Things that go through my head at 3.29am...

Reader, it is 3.29am and I am still awake. There are a number of reasons for this. I had a nap today that ended up being a bit too long, I drank too much diet coke too late, I ate too much cheese and now have heartburn, I'm excited about a script idea I had (and then wrote the full script for) and my brain won't shut up. So here is a list of all the things that have been going through my head tonight as I've lain in bed.



Things thunk.

• Maaaaan I shouldn't have eaten so much bad stuff today
• But all that cheese was tasty. And the giant yorkshire pudding filled with yumminess
• Although lunch alone was more calories than I should have in a day
• Why am I thinking about calories? I'll just have a green smoothie day tomorrow
• Maybe it's the green smoothies giving me heartburn
• Who do I think I'm kidding? It's the cheese. I wish it wasn't. Bloody Boursin. Being all delicious. 
• I wonder how I'd look blonde?
• I wonder how I'd look with blue hair?
• I should get blue hair
• Although that might slightly change my casting
• Let's be honest, I'm not badass enough to be a punk girl
• Quirky yes, punk, not so much
• Was that a spider?
• Nope, just a daddy long legs.
• Shit. That's annoying. STOP BASHING MY COMPUTER SCREEN.
• Who would I thank if I won a Bafta?
• Twelve people and counting
• I wish I could just wake up tomorrow with a driver's license 
• I've packed five boxes. Why does my room look messier?
• Why is there a spoon on my floor?
• Did I put it there for a reason?
• Is the spoon there to remind me of something? Like a knot in a hankie? 
• I wonder if anyone apart from Granddad Ian still uses actual hankies...
• I'm going to learn how to play the ukulele. 
• Crap, out of water AGAIN
• Can't get up, too cosy. Besides, hallways are where the shadow monsters live
• WHAT WAS THAT NOISE???
• Damn boyfriend....living on the other side of London...
• I really want some Millionaire's cheesecake
• No. No more dairy. Poor chest.
• Dairy is why I'm this curvy. I'm certain. My boobs are this big purely because of Wensleydale and Brie. 
• I need more boxes
• How the fuck am I going to get my bed out of the flat? I'll have to dismantle it before it goes to its temporary new home
• I COULD watch some more Dead Like Me on Netflix...Nah, save it for background noise tomorrow
• Is it autumn yet? 
• I'm going to miss all my stuff
• Need to apply for more work
• If I had more work I could rent the cutest little studio flat...
• Or a HOUSE if I lived in Yorkshire
• But then I'd have to live in Yorkshire. I'd miss the city too much.
• I bet my brother's awake
• Best not to call him though
• But I'm SO BORED.
• Fuck. Nearly 4am.
• Maybe I should try and sleep again.
• I could sleep in a hammock right now
• Mmmm....hammock....

And with THAT Reader, I feel able to try a doze....Goodnight! (or rather, good morning!)

Ash

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New Years Resolutions...

So it's New Years Eve Eve and as such I've come up with a list of resolutions that I think I should probably follow:

• Step away from the Boursin. You've had more than you can count this year and the addiction is getting out of control (oooh but the herby, cheesy goodness!)
• Do a feature film, with a nice juicy part-as much as I love doing tv, shorts and theatre (as well as my voice work) I have yet to tick off a feature on the to do list!
• Work out how to use my sewing machine. At the moment it keeps bunching and it's driving me up the wall!
• Start vlogging regularly. This may require some work on my editing skills...
• Enough with the smoking-this year is the year I stop for good.
• Eat more porridge. I forgot how utterly delicious it is! Started this morning with a bowl made with almond milk, raisins and chopped nuts with manuka honey. Blooming wonderful when there's a gale howling outside!
• Take some driving lessons (the provisional licence is now officially ordered!)
• Be the best bridesmaid EVAR at my oldest friend's wedding in July
• Dance like an idiot more. The many, many weddings I'm going to may help with that
• Do more stuff that I've never done before
• Take more risks, plan some adventures
• Only buy really beautiful underwear. No more primark rubbish, just well structured silks and vintage cuts
• Be the strong, happy version of myself that I enjoy being the most
• Enjoy my godson while he's young enough to let me dress him up in stupid outfits and give him big hugs
• Mentor more young actors
• Give back to society as much as I can

And the final resolution I did this morning (before January even begins, because I am a resolution GANGSTA)

Become an organ donor. Because I think it's a pretty fantastic thing to be able to save the lives of others through my death, and if I die before my time (as a number of dear people have this year), I'd like my family to know that part of me is still living and helping others in one way or another. If you guys want to make that one of your new years resolutions too, then please please go on https://www.organdonation.nhs.uk/, it only takes a minute or two and it could change so many lives. Only something like 31% of UK citizens are signed up-let's make 2014 the year that changes. 

Hope you all have a wonderful NYE and a bloody marvellous 2014!

Ash

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Romantical...

Reader, I've been watching some of the films recently that highly encouraged the romantic ideals that formed me as a young un. The Slipper and The Rose, The Princess Bride, Ten Things I Hate About You, Star Wars (shut up, and again, shut up. Hans Solo for the win.). And it made me think-did romantic gestures die out or did they ever exist to begin with?

The thing is, I grew up with really romantic parents. My dad proposed to my mum by taking out a full page ad in the newspaper, and had to wait a week to get a response. She never got an engagement ring, because they were so poor back then, but then years later, at Christmas, he surprised her with the most beautiful bit of bling you ever did see. He brings her flowers on a whim, they go out on dates and she scuba dived and skied for him (things that never caught her interest but that she did because he loved them). Quite often I'll walk in on them laying on the sofa all cuddled up and laughing uproariously at a private joke. They've kept nearly every anniversary card they ever sent to each other and recently my mum told me that whenever she goes out for work evening events or away with friends, she is always thinking about him and can't wait to see him again. They set me this incredible example of what love can be, so my standards are quite high. But is it my standards that are high or the standards of the rest of the world that are low?

I'm at an age now where a lot of my friends are getting engaged, and some of the proposals have taken my breath away. Not because they were the biggest, or the flashiest, but because the proposers knew exactly how their proposees had dreamed it would happen and had managed to outshine whatever they were expecting with their thoughtfulness. Similarly, one of my university friends is with someone who isn't scared to openly say how excited he is to spend the rest of his life with her, who asks her what she'd want out of a marriage and who sacrifices his one holiday to spend it with her family, not because he feels like he should, but because he really wants to. They race home to see each other every evening and sunshine practically gleams out of her when she talks about him.

On the other hand, there's also a chunk of my generation whose love lives are almost exclusively meeting up with people for a quick shag. I was talking to a friend the other day whose romantic life has been purely based around hook ups sourced from the internet, who told me she felt like true romance was dead and that she may as well enjoy herself sexually. She also confided that if she was still doing this when she was thirty she might move to Mexico or have a nervous breakdown, but since she's in her mid twenties she felt like it was still acceptable. Another male friend told me romance was dead, and that I should just get used to it. Big gestures, he told me, just didn't happen any more.

Now, maybe I'm wrong, but when I was growing up, I never wanted my life to be a series of one night stands. I knew that it was unlikely that I'd meet the man of my dreams and have my first kiss with him and then we'd go off to his palace and get married and have lots of perfectly well behaved babies, but I expected to have at least a great deal of romance in my life. Instead, I find myself midway through my twenties, single once more, slightly shellshocked and wondering what happens next. After a break up and some romance disappointments, how do you wind up not being the bitter fairy at the party?

When I first became single again I told my housemate that in order to survive, I had to think of life alone as simply a new life filled with hope to meet the great love of my life, but I think I'd forgotten about all the inbetween bits. The thing is, contrary to fairy stories, true love doesn't just pop up out of nowhere. You meet someone, you become friends, you date, you either want to rip their clothes off straight away or it's more of a slow burner, then love sort of blossoms. And how do I reconcile my dreams of the fairy tale ending with the beginning bits of awkward flirting and not being sure stage of meeting prospective dates? Cinderella certainly never had to put up with this bollocks-although she did have to deal with her only friends being rodents. And there's so much more to consider nowadays! When I was last single and dating (at the tender age of 21), I never bothered worrying about how I would be considered and how I acted in a relationship might affect the velocity of said relationship. I just sort of got on with it. Now I keep getting told that there are all these rules. Be unavailable (not really an issue for me given how crazy my schedule is), let them ask you out, never make the first move, don't be too intimidatingly well dressed (difficult given my wardrobe is almost exclusively 50's dresses and high heels). There's a whole bloody rule book that no one told me about! You're not allowed to just sit on the couch and make out any more, you have to go on proper dates! It's perplexing! And none of the fabulous single women I grew up reading about and watching on the screen are single any more. Carrie has Big. Bridget has kids and a toyboy. Even Jennifer Aniston is engaged. I'm part of this generation of boomerang kids who are all getting engaged and settling down and for the first time in a long while, I'm single, but it seems I'm one of the only ones. Although this does present a couple of nice things. I get to flirt with the gorgeous men that previously I would only dribble at from afar. I get to be a single bridesmaid (always fun, and includes bouquet catching and dancing like a nutter whilst drunk on pimms). If Nicholas Hoult comes knocking, I'll be free for a date (I'll be waiting for that call Nicky boy). I can focus on my acting without feeling guilty. I can eat a tub of Phish Food frozen Yoghurt for dinner and not be told off for it. Christmas is going to be a lot cheaper.

I haven't given up on my belief in true love and romance yet Reader. Even though my happy ending hasn't quite happened yet, I'll go on thinking that anything is possible and being moonstruck at weddings and happy for my loved up friends. Because life is too short to be spent being the bad fairy, especially when you can be the brilliant tea drinking, chicken owning, sparkle wearing fairy godmother in The Slipper and The Rose!

Tarrah!
Ash
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The first of many

Reader, I have about 6 blog entries I need to write. This is mainly my own fault for not writing one for so long, but then between trying to earn money, looking after my family, keeping my relationship in a happy place and feeding my ever growing Pinterest addiction, there hasn't been much time for typing up my thoughts and ideas. But I have realised that when I don't write them down, they are a lot harder to keep coherent in my brain, so I shall make much more of an effort to update weekly. Apologies for the long absence. Again.

So...updates!

The week before last was ridiculously full. Maybe I should make headings? That way I won't end up just mixing everything up in a big haze of bleh. Here goes..

Buffy on a big screen


So the lovely (and jaw droppingly young to be so wise) SJ had a birthday. As she works in a cinema, I found myself spending my Sunday night dressed as a geek in oversized glasses watching one of my childhood  favourites, Buffy 'Once more with feeling' (AKA the musical episode for those not acquainted with the series) on a big screen. Along with people dressed as Hans Solo, Lol Cat, My Drunk Kitchen and that masked guy from Watchmen whose name I can't spell (Rawshak? Raushack? Bollocks. I could look it up, but it's almost more fun not knowing.) Bloody brilliant. It reminded me of how good a role model Buffy (and indeed the majority of women in the series) is for young girls. I feel a bit sorry for the current generation of tweens actually. I mean...they have Bella in Twilight. I had a kick ass teenage vampire slayer. Who still found time to look after her mum and sister and do her homework. And choose bad men, not because they intrigued her with their sparkly male enigma-ness, but because if they took a step out of line, she was perfectly capable of breaking their pretty little necks. And because they were pretty (Oh Spike! Be still my beating heart! That awful accent....that gelled peroxide hair!) On reading The Hunger Games of late though, I was struck by the thought that Katniss kicks quite a bit of bum too. But there are only three books. Ideally, we need a weekly TV show with a strong female role model. I want my 8 year old cousin Daisy to aspire to fight her own battles, not to hope she'll be rescued in the nick of time by some randomer on a horse...

Retraining


Because the lovely fruit and veg account I was on at work has suddenly and unexpectedly downsized (major bummer), I spent much of the week before last training to go back on wines. I very nearly died of dull. It's not that the subject matter is boring, on the contrary, I'm actually quite into finding out about stuff like that. It's more that I did the exact same training nearly a year ago. And although it's very much needed, it was all stuff that in my heart of hearts, I knew. So although my brain needed to hear it so it could remember, it was also going 'uber yawn...I've HEARD this before!' I'm hoping that soon I'll get a nicely paid acting job that will take me away from the dreaded phonelines for a few months at least. Or maybe I'll get a promotion so I'll have to talk to people on the phones less. I am quite possibly developing a phobia of talking on the phone, having worked at the office for a year (in between various acting projects). Going away for four months to do my tour actually made it harder to come back I think! Having done something I adore for so long, going back to the daily monotony of phoning people was like going back to jail after a holiday in the sun. And speaking of holiday in the sun...

Holiday


An exciting thing has happened! I've just booked my first ever holiday with just me and The Lad (apart from our two nights in a dodgy Britannia hotel in Brighton last year, which was lovely, but more mini-break than holiday). In September we'll be spending a whole week in sunny Cyprus, eating nice food, lounging by a pool, dozing in the sun, frolicking in the sea and generally hanging out. I am so excited that I've already started making a list of the perfect holiday capsule wardrobe. It will be a short list since I'm only allowed to bring hand luggage, but I feel this means it's essential to get planning early. I'm even getting a Kindle so I can bring loads of books and not have to worry about not having room for clothes! Can't wait!

Film festival


A film I made got featured in The East End Film Festival! And people seemed to like it! There was applause and everything! There was a bit of a scary minute when my sex scene came on (I'm always worried I'll overhear someone talking about how mad my sex face/noises are in it) but everyone seemed to just take it as part of the film. And no one noticed me giggling nervously into my shirt and hiding my face while it was being shown, so I didn't look too uncool. Hopefully. There were so many great shorts that night, it made me really excited about the short I'm writing at the moment, about which you'll probably hear quite a bit more over the next year or so, but for now, I'm keeping mum.

Dreams


Coming back to the callcentre has made my dream life go crazy. At the moment I'm having vivid dreams every night about everything from primary school, to exploring alien planets, to cooking, to The Lad, to family, to little ruby babies with rabbit ears, to castles in the sky, to eco systems and worlds based around having water fountains everywhere, to weddings (of which I will be attending a lot next month), to acting, to poems by Blake, to dragons with opal stone scales. I'm not complaining because they're brilliantly interesting dreams, but they're a bit mad. It's like my daily working life is so boring now that my dream life has to be super interesting in comparison. Lets hope soon I have an acting job I can flood it all into!

Spiderman


I saw Spiderman. I kind of expected to hate it. But I loved it. I cried. Rhys was brilliant and green. I'm a little in love with Andrew Garfield right now (super strong, super cute, has big eyes and floppy hair, brings you flowers and stutters a little? Erm....yes please. Also, his and Emma Stone's on screen kisses look HAWT). On a less teenage crushy level, Garfield is a great actor. I saw him years ago at the National playing an American kid thrust into a massacre abroad and he was off the charts brilliant. He gives Spiderman something that I felt Toby Magwire lacked, a kind of teenage boy appeal that is very truthful (despite him actually being older than me). He gets bruised and battered, he can't form words without a slight lisp appearing, he walks like he's only just shot up to six foot whatever and still isn't used to it and he has a charming teenagey clumsiness to him. And Aunt May! She's so much more interesting in this film. In the last set, I always felt like she was a very 2D image, in this film they don't offer huge amounts of back story to her, but the relationship between her and her husband is so real and silly and touching that the tragedy (trying not to spell it out for anyone who somehow doesn't know what happens) is a huge blow when it actually happens. The mystery surrounding Peter's parents was also great and left me wanting more. The inevitable Stan Lee cameo was hilarious. In fact, the only thing I didn't like about the film was the teaser after the credits. It felt poorly structured and rather than exciting me about the next film (as the Avengers teaser did) it felt like an unnecessary nod to the fact that they still hadn't rounded off the narrative. Apart from that, damn fine show.

Fringe


I have a fringe now.

I guess that's about it for now! Hopefully there will be another post from me tomorrow eve, quite possibly about the family day I'm going to be having!
Tarrah Reader!
Ash
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Fear factor...

Reader, I am addicted to being scared. Horror films, spooky books, stories about ghosts and real life haunted houses, even people passing on urban legends late at night after a couple of drinks, I love it all. That is, I love it all when I can go home and get into a shared bed. Slightly less now that I have to sleep alone. With a big full length mirror facing me. And a red curtained window next to me. And a bed that has plenty of space for a ghost/demon/murderer/monster (delete as appropriate) to hide beneath it, waiting to get it's claws/knife/big clown hands on me.

So for the time being, I am attempting to avoid scary things. Now, this isn't particularly easy, given that
a) I have two scary but brilliant books next to my bed begging and pleading to be read
b) I am in a play that features a character who is essentially a spider given woman's form (and I have a very over active imagination)
c) Norwich has a ghost walk I really really want to go on

The thing is, when I was a kid I had really severe, quite terrifyingly grown up nightmares. And I have a sneaky suspicion that they might tiptoe back if the door is even open a crack for them (and take the place of the very humdrum nightmares I have now about forgetting lines, accidentally smoking and The Lad cheating). Don't believe they were bad? Here are a couple of the ones that scared me so much I slept with the light on for a good few years of my childhood (which is probably why my skin has such a delightful yellowish waxy tone to it nowadays)

1) The butcher


This one (I assume) must have quite a bit to do with seeing Hong Kong meat markets as a kid, mixed with the usual child nightmare of parents splitting up. Bear in mind I was about 5/6 when I first had this one.

My parents have got a divorce. I am surprisingly ok with this, so my mum takes me to meet her new boyfriend, a cheery, chubby chap with a bald spot. We go to his bungalow and he and mum sit, chatting about various old relationships they've had in his chintzy front room. Eventually, I get bored and decide to go fetch a drink. Without them noticing, I slip off the sofa and out of the door. When I get into the hallway (which is very femininely decorated, a bit like a maiden aunt's home) I see a number of heavy doors, none of which are marked. The one ahead has a humming noise like a fridge or something coming from it, so I realise that it must be the kitchen. With all my strength I push open the door and tumble in. Looking round, I discover that rather than being in a kitchen, I am in a giant meat freezer, complete with bloodied carcasses of meat hooked from the ceiling. When I take a closer look, I see they're the naked bodies of middle aged men, and somehow realise that these are the partners of all mum's new boyfriends' exes. Suddenly, his voice rings out from the doorway, 'She didn't know about him,' he booms, as I back into the swinging body of my father (only to find I can't scream), 'but she gave me permission for you!' He advances at me with a hook in one hand as my dad's hand twitches and I realise that he's not yet dead, but can't help me, because he is so horribly injured by the hook he himself hangs from. And I know I'll be joining him soon.


Creepy right?! I was so young! HOW DID MY BRAIN COME UP WITH THAT?!?!

2) The Dark Thing


So this one was when I was a bit older, about 8 or so, and you have to bear in mind that camping in my cousins garden was something we were pretty likely to do, both being big fans of american kids stories like The Babysitters Club and Sweet Valley High (where they did things like camp in the garden ALL THE TIME)

It's a very very clear, beautiful summer's night. Me and my cousin Nicki are camping out in her garden, without a tent, just with an old bed her parents are getting rid of anyway, so have let us use for the night as a bit of peter pan style glamour. Nicki gets into bed but before I go, I want to look into the pond, which is so still it's like a mirror. As I glance in, I see a dark shape soar above my head. I look up, but there's nothing to be seen so I assume it's a bird or a bat. I clamber into bed and say goodnight to Nicki, who's now drifted off anyway, so she can't hear me. As I close my eyes, dragged into sleep, the dark shape swoops down. It's not a bat, it's the size of a full grown man, but not a man. A formless being of evil who's only wish is to eat my soul and step inside to inhabit my body instead. I can't fight it off, I am already asleep.


Of course, the scary thing about this particular nightmare was that when I woke up from it, the shape was floating around my ceiling, before settling at the end of my bed, watching me as if waiting for me to fall asleep again, I screamed and screamed and my dad came running in and turned on the light, at which point it disappeared. Now, years later, I realise that it was a night terror (something which I've suffered a fair few times since with spiders), but as an 8 year old who couldn't logically work out what she was seeing, can you imagine how freaky that was?

You know what?

 I'm going to stop there and watch an episode or 10 of 30 Rock. Otherwise, there'll be no more sleep for me this month!

Tarrah folks! Dream sweet dreams....
Ash
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Positive thinking and dream mapping for the cynical generation

Right, so as anyone from my year at drama school will tell you, positive thinking is key. We even had a lesson in which a woman who trained in positive thinking came to tell us how important positive thinking is. Now, Reader, I subscribe heavily to the whole 'think happy=be happy' philosophy. I read The Secret, I watched Oprah! I even do visualisation exercises sometimes. I am generally an irritatingly happy shiny person. I have very little concept of sarcasm and when I try to use it, it's hardly biting satire, more grumpy 12 year old saying 'well, duh!' But let's face it Reader, in this age of grumpy celebs selling sob stories, po faced newsreaders and pouting being sexy, positivity is frankly unfashionable. I tried to start a trend for it, which seemed to fail abysmally. There's also a thing with actors, if you say 'yeah everything's AMAZING, I frickin' love life and I wouldn't change a thing' other actors hate you. Literally want to tear out your eyeballs and shove salt in the sockets. It's far more acceptable to go 'well, life isn't too bad, but then it's not great. I mean I'm not getting the auditions I want, my agent's a shit and I might as well give up and become a librarian'.

I think I'll stick to being unfashionably cheery. I've been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer of late (yes, I am a huge geek), and think, hey, if Willow can do it, I can! Now, one of the things I've learnt from all of the positive thinking stuff is that you should make a 'Universal wishlist'. It's a list of all the things you want to happen, and it makes the universe sit up and go 'hey now, that's a great idea! Well sure, if you want I'll just fix that up for you under the grill.You want fries with that?'

So, in the interests of positive thinking, here is one of mine (yes Reader, I have many)

1. I get picked up by my perfect agent. They finally get to my email and letter and go 'hey, you know what? That girl with her slightly angular nose and freckled forehead is EXACTLY what we need! Let's take her on and make her insanely A list!'
2. They pass on my details to the following directors: Everyone who is talented.
3. This very blog gets picked up and made into a column (well, one can dream) and possibly a film starring Zooey Deschanel doing a really really bad English accent (n.b she may have to put on some weight and lose the fringe. Potentially also wear a prosthetic nose.) 
4. Talented directors get in touch and audition me for many many projects, which I then get to pick and choose
5. I get cast in screen, stage and radio. All varied and rewarding roles that I can really get my teeth into. I get paid absolute buckets (obvo)
6. With the money I buy a lovely house for me and the lad, with a garden, a 50s style kitchen (with a red smeg fridge because we once saw one in a magazine and now we're obsessed!) and period features. I pay off my parents' mortgage and get them the villa in Majorca they've always dreamed of. I set up a trust fund for my brother, invest in my Mum's business, build a rehearsal/performance space back in Kent for my old Drama Soc and buy my Irish grandparents a house that's not in the dodgy end of Tottenham, a personal chauffeur and a woman to clean the house and cook occasionally. 
7. I keep getting work. Good work, not just poo things that I only do to be able to survive and keep myself in diet coke.
8. Mine and The Lad's relationship continues to flourish and be lovely. 
9. We travel to exotic places all the time, drink cocktails out of coconuts on beaches and generally live the life of Reilly. 
10. Mum's business BOOMS and she is on the cover of The Sunday Times magazine she's so fab. Dad wins loads of great contracts for work and is names 'Housing person of the year' (for lack of the correct/real terminology), Brother gets a first and a brilliant job in Criminology (with a sideline in drawing comics). The Lad works as a primary school teacher but also opens up a comic book store/cafe with performance space for our comedian friends and quiz nights.
11. I win a Bafta, Oscar, Tony, Mobo (shut up this is MY wishlist and I get to ask for whatever the hell I want!)
12. I am a size 8 with perfect teeth and hair. I am remarkably slim but in some miraculous way do not lose my boobs nor need plastic surgery or diets. 
13. I get cast as Hedda Gabler in a film version of the Ibsen play.
14. I win more awards.
15. Dad starts presenting a TV show about scuba diving and fishing (his two favourite things ever) which gets similar viewing figures to Top Gear. The public enjoy his combination of dad jokes and punk attitude. Mum writes a book which is seen as being the best feminist fiction to be published since Fay Weldon.
16. My family, friends and I are so happy and healthy that we're actually quite sickening, but this is obviously not picked up on by the media or public, who simply adore us.
17. World peace (just so I don't sound too materialistic...)

Right, so now that's all sorted, I shall expect to start having it all appear in my lap shortly. I'll just wait here watching Buffy till it does.
Will keep you updated Reader!
Ash
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