Fanciful about Food...

Reader, when it's breakfast, I am deciding what to have for lunch. When it's lunch, I am deciding what to have for dinner. When it's dinner, I'm working out a way for us to have snacks later without me being the one to overtly suggest it. I am obsessed.

The first thing I ever baked in my current flat

The thing is, food really does shape my life-most of my memories as a kid are tied around food-the worlds best banana pancakes in Bali when I was 3 that spoiled me for all other banana pancakes forever, ranbutans [sic?] eaten from paper bags in muggy hotel rooms with my parents whilst in Asia then being horribly disappointed by them back in the UK, my dad's ice cream floats (drunk on our front doorstep with all the neighbourhood kids), my Irish nan's roast potatoes that I will never be able to fully replicate and my English nan's date slice (for which I have the recipe, kept safe in a book, written down by 11 year old me and with everything spelt grossly, luxuriously wrong).

I knew I was head over heels for my boyfriend when I didn't even think about food on our first date, then on our second insisted on taking him to an Irish pub so that he could try red lemonade. I wanted him to be able to taste the drink that was the memory of so many childhood trips to Kerry because I knew he was important, even then. I was so delighted when he liked it that I threw my arms around him and kissed him.

For me, food means more than just nutrition-it's logged with emotion, nostalgia and memories. I've never been great at dieting for that very reason (which is a shame given that staying trim is part and parcel of being a screen actor). I grieved when my favourite Chinese take away closed down (I've never really recovered that particular betrayal).

In recent years more layers have been added-I know that at some point I want to have kids, so I know I have to keep my body fit and well, which means not only avoiding the wrong foods, but making sure I eat the right ones too. The past few years have had be eating meat and fish, discovering that my severe anaemia (despite my 17 year old protests) was linked to my vegetarianism and that steak is delicious. I don't just eat veggies because I have to now, I eat them because I love them and feel pretty rough if I don't. I make sure protien happens in every meal and that it's not always cheese. The older I get, the less food I can get away with eating without drastically changing size and shape. Which isn't to say that I don't still have huge pizzas and burgers-of course I do-but they had better be worth the damn calories. Frozen pizza doesn't cut it these days, it has to be the real deal or I feel cheated.

I can't tell you any dates from history but I can tell you what I ate the day we went to my first ever football match (smiley faces with soy sauce and ketchup-we were out of salt), or what me and my housemates talked about the first night we got drunk together and ate free buttery toast from the Christian tent ('Sorry man, we don't want to talk about god, we're mostly here for your food'). I can tell you the first meal Rob and I ever went out for (Thai food, which we barely ate because we were too busy laughing and doing Eddie Izzard impressions), what was served my first day on a proper TV set (veggie chilli and rice and loads of treacle sponge to ward off the cold), what I ate after my first proper break up (quorn hot dogs, one a day for 2 weeks. I lost almost a stone and looked DREADFUL), what I ate my first night in New York (TGI friday popcorn shrimp), what I ate when I found out my great uncle died (a really bad pizza from Pizza Hut), the drink my dad made me when I got mugged (very sugary tea, even though I hated tea, he said it was good for shock), what I ate the first time I was hungover (beans and chips, which I then threw up).

I feed people when they're sad-mashed potatoes, as Nora Ephron once said, are the best thing to treat melancholia. I also feed people when they're happy, celebration recipes stolen from Delia or Ottolenghi. I feed people to express my love for them, making Rob poached eggs on spinach and avocado is often my way of saying 'thank you for being incredible', cooking for my mum when I visit is my way of saying 'thank you for giving me a day job and being great at advice' and my dad's favourite carrot cake spells out how grateful I am for him putting up with all of my madness as a child (the man cut toast into pirate ships for me for god's sake)

So what's the moral of this blog post?
God, I don't know. I must be hungry. I think it's probably that food is a beautiful and special thing and we're lucky we have so much of it or something. Ask me again after lunch.
Ash
x

In which I disagree with someone more important than me...

Reader, the other night I went to hear a Very Important Man (VIM) who is involved in my industry speak. A lot of what he said I nodded appreciatively at, and I applauded at his work and even stood up when everyone else did at the end to give a standing ovation (although I felt a bit silly given he hadn't just performed or done a Ted Talk). But there was one thing out of all of the things he said that I really, really disagreed with.

A young student in the audience asked for advice for people who wanted to be actors and he replied, in all seriousness; 'Don't be in a relationship, don't get married, don't have kids'.

To that, I say BOLLOCKS.

In case you mis-read, that is a very clear, BOLLOCKS.

Being an actor is not always easy. When you're working, it can be the best job on earth, but the set backs are hard and sometimes it can be emotionally traumatic. Last week 3 potential, well paying, career changing jobs melted away into nothing when I found out I had been lied to by a professional catfish ( you can see the vlog on that HERE). I was gutted. I was scared. I felt invaded. But about a year ago, I was also lucky enough to meet someone who changed my life and who knows more about me than anyone else in the world, someone who I respect as an actor and producer, someone who gives great advice and who I love so much that sometimes it scares me a bit. So when at first I tried to overlook the fraud, he sat me down and gently made me look properly so that I'd see going to meet this person was unwise and would put me in an unsafe situation. When I felt stupid he told me all the thing that made him proud of me, that I often overlook. When I cried, he held me and kissed me till I stopped shaking and then sat me on a terrace in his jumper and brought me wine and chocolate. By the morning I felt ready to do detective work on the fraudster and properly report them, and felt more positive about my life.

If I had been single, I wouldn't have had that sounding board. Yes, friends and family are incredible and make my life wonderful every day, but being in a relationship you get a cheer squad of one and a partner in crime to back you up and help make difficult decisions. Now I'm not saying you need to be in a relationship as an actor, of course not! I've been single as an actor, and it was fulfilling and excellent! But it didn't make me a better actor. Nor does being in a relationship, but it gives you some much needed support in an industry that can sometimes be very lonely.

You also have someone to share the good times with-we've celebrated so many achievements together, and because he's there to see how hard I work at it, he knows how important it is when something finally pays off and we take huge amounts of joy from our successes.

Ok, so being in a relationship means that when you go to work abroad or on tour you have someone to miss, but that just means that you have something excellent to come home to. True, you can't just jet off to live in LA at a minutes notice but a) when would you have done that anyway, leaving all your family and friends behind and b) to be honest I would follow my partner anywhere, and I know he'd do the same-what matters is that we have someone to enjoy the journey with us.

Now please don't take this as me single shaming, it's not at all. I loved being single, I was great at being single, I was a single actor for a year and my career was just dandy. But don't let people tell you that being in a relationship gets in the way of your career. If you're with the right person, it supports it. You determine how your life works, how your relationships work, how your career works. If you're in a relationship that's holding you back, then it may be time to look at the dynamics of that relationship. But for goodness sake, don't give up on love just because some 'industry professional' told you to. That's their experience. Not yours.

Ash
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5 Reasons To Wear Good Pants....

Reader, I tried writing a blog post last week about what I'd been up to in the time since I last blogged and I had to stop because to be honest, I just sounded really smug, and I was pissing even myself off. So let's just say that I'm really happy at the moment and then there won't be complaints of people vomiting at their computers and throwing rocks through my windows. Instead I decided to talk about something really dear to my heart.

Pants.

Well, underwear to be specific. Not many people know this about me, but I am OBSESSED by lingerie. I probably own more lingerie than most people own entire outfits. Ever since I was about 16 and had teeny tiny boobs that didn't actually need a bra, and had no one to actually SEE my undergarments, I have preferred going on lingerie shopping sprees to any other kind of spending money type activity. When people find this out about me, they tend to assume I do it for men (at which my inner Boadicea snarls and sharpens her sword). They are very wrong. I would actually challenge anyone, Male, Female, Trans, Gay, Straight, Bi, Body Confident, Body Not-So-Confident, Single, Taken and all in between to wear great underwear for a month and see what change it brings in them. I think you'd be pretty astonished! And here's the thing, great underwear to you might not mean the full ensemble of garter belt, stockings, lace et al, it might mean a pair of superman boxers with a pretty bra, or those David Beckham kecks you've always side-eyed in H&M. Great underwear is the underwear you not only feel good and comfortable in, but the underwear that you would be quite happy to show excitedly to other people.

And here are 10 reasons why it's great to do just that....

1. Great underwear makes you walk a bit taller. You walk with a swagger because what you have under your clothes is your little secret. You could be wearing baggy joggers and an old top on the outside but the underwear that makes you feel like one hot tamale underneath will make you strut like you're in Prada daaalink. And sometimes we need that boost on a Monday in a scary meeting or meeting with that guy/gal you promised yourself you'd actually ask out for once.                                                                                                                                                  
2. If you got hit by a bus, you wouldn't wake up cringing about the holey old nonsense you were wearing with Homer Simpson plastered all over them that had faded after too many washes. You could look your nurses in the eye. Yes you have to cut off my pants, but damn, aren't those pants INCREDIBLY AWESOME?! 
3. Unexpected sleepovers. Ok. Let's get real here people. In this day and age, hook ups happen when we least expect them. We're living in the era of tinder, an era where one night stands are as accessible as fast food, and people should not be judged for having healthy sex lives. But don't get caught out-if you always wear good underwear, you're far more likely to not have to turn down a night of romance for bad underwear reasons. Even if you end up choosing to share a bed with someone you've just started dating but decide not to do the deed, a great set of underwear under his T-shirt (or just a great pair of boxers) will make you feel classy as heck. People complain that liaisons are never like in the movies because 'who wears underwear like that all the time just in case?' N.B. some of us do. And it's AWESOME. 
4. Control that body. No but seriously. You know what really hurts going downstairs too fast? Boobs that aren't properly held in place. Bad bras do not protect you from droop and can cause rashes and bruises and stabby under wiring. Not so comfy. Wear underwear that feels good for you. Same for those with other equipment. Wear underwear that holds you securely in place and you're less likely to sit on....erm...things. Also less chance of cringey accidental displaying in shorts or thin jogging bottoms. From a very simplistic level, you should wear things that look after you. As if your bits are being hugged by your fairy-undies-mother. (pic related, owl is exactly how you should feel)                  
5. Underwear is, to put it frankly, brilliant. You can be displaying one face to the world with your outer garments and quite another underneath. Underwear is like a daily gift for yourself (and maybe for a significant other if you're so inclined) and should be treated as such! I have a friend who works in an office and due to office dress code has to don boring suits but has the most beautiful underwear collection ever because it's her way of sticking a finger up at the system (sure, put me in grey suits but underneath that I am all leopard print silk and you have NO IDEA). Buying underwear can give you an alter-ego no one knows about, a secret that gives you confidence-hell, with the right pants, you could be a superhero.

Till next time Reader!

Ash

x

My shameful secret...

Reader, I have something to confess. It's an unpopular view these days, one that others may sneer at or turn away from in righteous disgust. It might cause me to get shoes thrown at my head. The thing is....

I love Valentines Day.

I know what you're thinking, 'It's alright for her though, she's stonkingly in love!', well yeah, that's true, but I loved it when I was single as well.

Here's the thing. Being in love on Valentines is amazing-this year my Partner In Crime and I spent the whole day together, just the two of us, which sounds fairly simple but given that we both lead such busy lives, it was complete heaven. We went to the cinema (no, not to see 50 Shades of Grey, we were all about Big Hero 6!), we ate bacon, we danced around the living room and drank wine while we cooked an Italian meal from scratch, we accidentally made each other the same present...it was without a doubt the best Valentines day I've ever had. But even when I was single I loved the day. When I grew out of the idea that Valentines had to be just for couples, I started spending the day doing things for myself. One year I treated myself to lunch at a cafe I'd always admired when walking past. Another year myself and curly one wrapped ourselves in duvets and watched When Harry Met Sally with a bag of doritos, diet coke and packs of cigarettes (I was still a smoker then). Last year we ate Chinese food and watched The Slipper and The Rose (best Cinderella adaptation EVER) and laughed our socks off.

Heading towards PIC's the other day, it occurred to me that the only time I've ever been unhappy on Valentines day has been when I was unhappy in a relationship. Whenever I've been happy it one it's been grand (although this weekend definitely topped them all) and when I've been single I've loved it too.

Maybe it's because my expectations aren't huge-at the ripe old age of 26 I've never had an anonymous Valentines day card, and I've never really been that materialistic. The concept that someone would have gone to the effort to make something or organise something for me is far more touching than any bunch of flowers or shiny bauble. Valentines cynics might say that the festivities encourage us to only show our love for someone on one day, but I disagree. I show my love for my partner as often as I can. Valentines is just another excuse to celebrate it-an excuse to turn off mobile phones, refuse plans and jobs, lock the doors and just be. Those days don't come round particularly often when you have busy lives, so we need to celebrate them while we can and use them as an excuse to indulge in having a real, honest to goodness day off.

Hope your Valentines was wonderful Reader, whether your were single or taken for it!
Ash
x

p.s. if you don't already, you can follow my vlogs here: https://www.youtube.com/user/magenta/videos

Hello 2015...

Ok. So in all reality, I should have written this blog post in January, not *looks at calendar* MIDWAY THROUGH FEBRUARY?! Bloody hell Reader, what happened?



Ok, so 2015 has been ridiculous so far. Pretty much from the second day in I've been so awash with auditions, acting jobs, teaching jobs, coaching gigs, social life stuff etc that I've not even dyed my hair yet (I think I actually have more root going on at the moment than I ever have before...seriously, it looks like a bar of chocolate dipped in carrot juice). Add to that the fact that a huge proportion of people I love were born at this time of year and you have a very expensive, very busy chunk of time...and now I have roughly a kajillion hen do's to attend as well because I am now of an age where half my friends are getting married and the other half have taken up very expensive hobbies. Like having children.

Saying that, I wouldn't have it any other way- we're both so busy and skint, the gorgeous boyfriend and I now don't feel guilty having dates where we refuse to leave the house (time spent in comfy clothes watching cartoons, cooking and playing each other music we used to listen to when we were young and stupid-or younger and more stupid-is utter bliss when our lives are so frenzied). I love having regular acting work and the projects I'm working on at the moment are interesting and varied. And of course, since I've been working so hard, I've felt no shame in booking two holidays for later this year!

I am pretty stunned looking at my diary though. Every other weekend contains a wedding, a hen do or acting work. I have wisely booked my second holiday at the end of the wedding season (when Rob and I will be so full of cake, debt and booze that a week in Tuscany sunning ourselves and weeping gently into bowls of pasta will be required). I am actually quite impressed that I am of an age where not only am I perfectly able to book hotels, hen do's, travel etc for weddings, but that I also book my own holidays. When did that happen? I'm pretty sure last week I was blissfully unaware of the price difference between flying on a weekend in school holidays and flying in a time when no one wants to travel, and the only thing I had to worry about when going to a wedding was if I could remember all the moves to the macarena.

It's looking to be a pretty fantastic year-loads of juicy acting jobs to sink my teeth into, a producer role on a film I'm very passionate about getting made, adventures to plan, family time to enjoy, friends to hang out with and celebrate massive events with and a man who not only loves me but also has taught me the joys of popcorn mixed with malteasers. 2015-I think we're going to get on.

Ash
x

Earlier and earlier every year....

So Reader, if you've followed my blog for a while, it will come as no surprise to you that Christmas is my most favourite time of year. I get craft crazy, bake all the time, generally wander round with a face like a child in a Dickens novel who's just been given entry to a toyshop.

To make sure I don't go too mad I generally instate a rule that I can't do Christmassy stuff before the 1st of December. Which means no Christmas music, food, films or decorating. Every year though, my addiction takes hold a little more, and I find excuses to get the season going earlier and earlier. Going to the annual Taste of Christmas fair with my gorgeous make up artist friend SJ (remember her? from the cake blogs?) in late November now gives me an excuse to get outrageously excited a bit early. Going to my boyfriend's hometown to have Advent Sunday dinner with his family and old friends is also going to allow me to have mince pies in November (because it would be SO RUDE not to) and the fact that I have an enormous Irish Catholic family who keep having babies means I have had an excuse to start shopping and crafting since the first of November. Last year I spent a week filming in Portugal in December so I managed to convince my housemate that we had to decorate the flat in November so we'd still get the full levels of Christmassy vibes.

Don't get me wrong, I'll still be mostly sticking to my rules-no Christmas films before 1st December (and yes, that includes Christmas TV-re-runs of Kirsty Alsops homemade Christmas and Nigella's Christmas specials are like crack to me), no christmas music on the ipod before 1st December, no opening Christmas magazines (now sat tantalizingly at the end of my bed) no reading A Christmas Carol or putting a Christmas theme on my laptop....

but...

I may have already burnt a Christmas scented candle or three....
and made Christmas pudding....
and have my home made wreath on my bedroom door...
and given my boyfriend a 'Christmas decoration starter kit' for his flat...
and coerced him and also curly one to let me come and help decorate the second they want to feel Christmassy....
And read all the Christmas catalogues from all the supermarkets and planned all the food (because they don't count...right?)

Oh dear...

Elf
x

Erm...I mean,
Ash
x

Things that should be taught in sex-ed...

Reader, the other day, a friend and I were laughing over drinks about how naive we were about sex as teenagers, and exchanging some of the ridiculous things we thought back then and urban legends our 15 year old selves had been convinced were true. It made me think a bit about how actually, I learned very little from my sexual health classes that could be put to good use (not helped of course by the fact that when I was having those classes, your contraceptive choices were limited to the pill, condoms or a coil and we were taught by a very nice lady going through the menopause who for some reason decided a group of 15 year olds really needed to know all the details of childbirth rather than the realities of sex.) If I were to go and teach a sex ed class (thank god this will probably never have to happen) of young women, there are certain things I would definitely make sure they knew. And because I am not particularly likely to do that, and because as far as I can tell, everyone is still being shy about all this stuff, I am going to ignore the British voice in my head going 'DON'T TALK ABOUT THIS STUFF' and actually tell you some stuff! Which may be helpful if you're a 15 year old girl. Or a 20 year old girl. Or whatever.



 Things we didn't learn from sex-ed classes, that might have been useful

• The majority of the time, the guy has no idea if he's got an STD, and you won't be able to tell either, so until you both get tested, keep it covered missy! 
• The pill may have side effects. No, not in the same way paracetamol says 'may cause dizziness', more like 'may make you want to eat literally everything, may give you crippling migraines, may make you a crazy person who cries or yells all the time, makes you fall in love with people that you would never normally fancy because of weird hormonal effects, stop you wanting to have sex which, let's face it is the SOLE purpose you're on the damn thing anyway'. If they try and give you microgynon say hell no. It is dreadful. None of my friends have had good experiences on it.
• No you can't get pregnant by giving a guy a hand job in a jacuzzi
• No you can't get pregnant by both being naked in the bath
• No you can't get pregnant by hugging each other for a long time
• Yes you can get pregnant even if he doesn't finish inside you. Stuff gets released even before that.
• Look, this is a picture of what a real penis looks like. And here's an erect one. In fact, here is lots of photos, just to show how different they all are. 
• No, testicles don't have a hard skeletal casing.
• No, penises don't have a bone, they get hard because they get a rush of lots of blood to them.
• This also makes them change colour.
• Yes they can break. Please be careful with them.
• Here is a pamphlet about thrush and cystitis. If you are a woman who is having regular sex (or sometimes, because life is cruel, even if you're not and haven't got any in a long time) you will probably have both of these things. They are horrendous. 
• Boobs are weird. Seriously, don't worry about them. Just wear good underwear. 
• Periods are hell. Feminax is brilliant, hot water bottles are heaven, dark chocolate helps. 
• Oh my god guys, sex is SO MESSY. Like, SO MESSY. 
• There is no elegant way to deal with the mess.
• Never feel ashamed for wanting to have sex. Wait till you are legal, and wait till you are emotionally ready and with someone who will treat you well, but never feel ashamed. It's a natural and wonderful thing. 
• Go and read erotica. Work out what turns you on. Porn is made mostly for men, and to be honest, it's not sexy. You might find erotic fiction better. Or sex scenes from The Postman Always Rings Twice or Cruel Intentions. Go, discover. Don't wait for your partner to tell you what to feel.
• The implant is like a gift from god. Rare periods, no pills, less side effects. Heaven. 
• Sex is not just for pregnancy. Your teachers, nuns, parents, local priests etc may tell you otherwise. DO NOT BELIEVE THEM.
• Ignore the awful 60's diagrams your science teacher will show you. Sex is not laying down, very very still. This is generally a much less fun way to do things.
• You don't have to be in love with your sexual partner but it helps a LOT. Like, it's so much better it will BLOW YOUR MIND. However, you do have to definitely want to do it.
• You can say no whenever you like, it is completely your right. Even if you are naked, even if you're already halfway through. The most important thing about sex is consent. 

I think I'd better repeat that last one, because it's SUPER important:

THE MOST IMPORTANT THING ABOUT SEX IS CONSENT 

You are the boss of YOUR body. I have heard too many stories recently about people only having sex because 'they felt they should' and saying that they had sexual encounters that weren't rape because 'I didn't say no' but felt pretty close. Say no. It is your choice, and your right. It is also your choice to go and have sex. Do not let people shame you, or make you believe having sex is something to feel bad about. You feel exactly how you want to feel about it, whether you choose not to go through with it, or you take that step. And talk about it. Ask questions. We are a closed off society sometimes, and we shouldn't be, because it means teenagers are afraid to be curious. There is always someone who will be willing to be honest with you if you are brave enough to ask the scary questions.

Ash 

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Reasons I'm smiling....

So Reader, yesterday I was on a train home, grinning to myself, when I overheard a lady kiss her teeth and say 'I don't know what SHE's got to smile about'. So I thought I'd share some things. In the hope that it infects. Maybe it'll get back to her and she'll not be able to help but use some of those face muscles! 

REASONS I AM SMILING GORMLESSLY

1. My train station is on a hill. Which means on my way home, I get to run down it, giggling to myself. I do this every time I come back alone, even if there are other commuters. It is JOLLY GOOD FUN.
2. I am getting to spend time with lots of my fabulous friends at the moment. Which I am LOVING.
3. Autumn/pre-christmas Winter is my favourite time of year, because of all the reasons in this video and more. I also start my Christmas prep in October, with Christmas pudding making and starting to hand design Christmas presents for my non-adult relations.
4. Halloween is just round the corner and me and two of my favourites have come up with a BRILLIANT costume idea
5. I am having some adventures in non-Englandy places soon-4 days in Italy with the parents, then 4 days in Ireland with the Partner In Crime and I can't wait!
6. I am really excited about a new career path that will hopefully run alongside my acting/vlogging/writing work. And I'm feeling motivated about it! Which is all jolly nice.
7. I have discovered exercise is actually giving me more energy than usual and am actually ENJOYING working out four times a week ( I know, feel free to throw shoes at my head etc)
8. I am baking on Wednesday. I blooming love baking.
9. Guardians of The Galaxy exists. And for that we should all be grateful.
10. Everywhere smells of autumn at the moment-my room has orange and cinnamon candles burning, walking home from the station I could smell bonfires and damp and roast dinner smell eminates from every home. Lush.
11. Curly One has moved into THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GROWN UP HOUSE and it is only 20 minutes on the train from me. Which is just deliciously delightful. And I was able to help her move in, which made me happy.
12. I got to catch up with my beloved make-up artist/prosthetics guru SJ this week. Long time followers of this blog may remember that SJ and I used to do cake shop reviews here-keep your eyes peeled on my vlogging channel-this Christmas, we are potentially doing a short Christmas series! Cakes, crafts and canny behaviour...
13. School kids are back in school. Which means the streets are mine again! (I love having non conventional working hours...)
14. This year, long flowy coats are in fashion. Which means walking round pretending to be a Daphne Du Maurier heroine
15. I was introduced to THE GREATEST TEA PLACE today at the Leicester Square Arts Theatre. It's called Madd Hatter's, and they make Tea Lattes. In flavours so wonderful you'll want to cry, like candyfloss. And they have Oreo cake. And iced tea that tastes like it has a bucket of sugar in but actually only has one teaspoon per TEN SERVINGS. I may never leave.

Anyway my dear darling lovely Reader, I hope you have lots of reasons for smiling too-and remember-you're all reasons for me to smile too!

Remember not to kick piles of leaves-hedgehogs like to sleep there

Ash

x

Oh what a difference a year makes...

Reader, I am now officially moved out of Bag End. Which is a sad thing because I loved living with Curly One and having independence and a place I could invite lots of friends to without having to ask permission. But I am also moving back in with my family, who I adore, and frankly, I couldn't have afforded to live away for even a week longer so it's come at a perfect time.

Today, surrounded by boxes and piles of clothes going to charity shops, ebay and dry cleaners, I have been reflecting about the year at Bag End and all the things that have changed since I first moved in there. The big one is money-I went in with two grand in savings and I've left with £12.50 left at the end of my overdraft. We were paying far too much for Bag End, which was consistently on the brink of collapse, with doors breaking, a latch that kept slipping and locking us out, no insulation and old windows surrounded by rotting wood, but for us it was priceless. Much as I'm going to miss it though, I am very much looking forward to mending my coffers and getting back in my bank manager's good books. I've never been particularly good at not having money, it stresses me out more than most things to be unsure how I'm going to pay bills, and the constant praying I'll have been paid for one of my projects before another bill leaves my account. Which also partially prompted wanting to start as an acting coach, along with my camera based work with the brilliant young people at the Almeida Theatre, which shocked me with how much I enjoyed it. 

When I moved in, I was also a stone lighter than I am now, having lost a bit of weight due to grieving after a big break up. A year of eating more cheese than I ever have in my life has amended that-I am now the fattest I have ever been. But I don't really care-now I'm back home (where cheese is not seen as something to be eaten with every meal like we did in Bag End, and where my healthy parents have a gym in the basement) I know that the weight will fall off me fairly naturally anyway, but more than that, I am far more at peace with myself than I ever was when I moved in. I accept my body for what it is, something that I need to look after, to listen to and to let rest when it needs to. 

Speaking of heart break, I was very muted when I moved in. I cried often, I was terrified of where my life was going (how do you adjust when the future you had mapped out vanishes overnight?) I was single, the thought of dating made me seize up and I was pretty sure I would never fall in love again. Over the year I went on dates, discovered what I did and didn't like, not only in the men I dated, but in myself. I discovered that I was more able to ask people out than I thought, I was even asked out by others a few times. I learnt how to say no, that if you can't talk to someone then there's no point, that I'm not the kind of girl who can do casual. I learnt to love being single again, to love the excitement of a night out, to feel complete by myself. And just as I'd learnt to love spending time by myself, and that I didn't need a romantic partner, I went to an audition and got completely knocked off my feet by someone. So now I'm on a new adventure, being in a new relationship whilst living with my family, with someone who is just as creative, childish and romantic as I am. I am so smitten and excited about our adventures, I feel a bit like a teenager again!

Someone said to me recently that I was more like myself again. But I disagree. What Bag End has taught me is that I didn't need to look back to someone I used to be, I needed to find a new me-someone who took on all the lessons of the past but was able to accept that the future is a changeable form which probably won't ever turn out as you expect it to, but to enjoy all the twists and turns. I have my old sparkle back, yes. But I'm also stronger, more resilient and more willing to try new things.

When I moved into Bag End, Curly One and I toasted each other with tiny bottles of prosecco and talked about the year ahead of us. I said I wanted to do things that scared me, and I'm really proud to say I have. I've started to learn how to drive, I've begun vlogging, I gave up smoking (for the second, and hopefully final time), I've let myself become poor in order to do things important to me (like performing at Edinburgh), I've dated, I've eaten new things (Salmon, beef, dim sum and soft shell crab to name but a few!). Bag End, more than anything, gave me the space to grow. And I was lucky enough to do it with Curly One, who I have laughed with, cried with, danced with, quoted Eddie Izzard with and eaten more cheese with than I have ever consumed in my life. 

So today, while I'm unpacking the rest of my boxes and drinking vast amounts of honey and lemon (I have a rotten cold), I will be thinking fondly of all the brilliant, unexpected and life changing things that happened to me during a year in a cold little hobbit hole in North London. 

Ash

x

Why do weddings make us cry?

So, as you guys know, The Bride recently did something rather incredible-she got hitched! And it was the wedding of a lifetime! A gorgeous manor that looked like something straight out of a period drama, so much good food that I felt like I'd eaten more than I'd had in weeks, she looked like a princess, he glowed with pride when he caught her eye, we all danced to a live band and I taught a bunch of people to headbang. It was lovely. And there were lots and lots of tears.

I cried watching her get into her dress, I cried when she couldn't help but kiss her soon-to-be husband as soon as she got down the aisle, I cried as they exchanged their vows and I cried during the speeches. I welled up giving her the book me and her other oldest friend had compiled for her, I shed a tear when we chased her bridal car down the road. Everyone cried at the groom's speech, and then again when we did the bridesmaids' speech. I couldn't express how happy I was without welling up.

So what is it about weddings that make us get misty eyed?

Well I've noticed the crying thing has only come about as I've got old enough for my friends to start getting married off. Now don't get me wrong, these aren't sad tears-nope, anything but! They're happy tears, proud tears, overwhelmed tears. They're tears which are hopeful for the couple but also hopeful for yourself.



The thing is, unless you're not a believer in marriage, the wedding day is like this really awesome chance to celebrate love. And what's so bad about that? You get to shout from the rooftops how important that person is to you. It's like saying to that person-'You are it. You're my best friend, my family and the person I want to share my bed with forever and a day.' And that's a huge deal. Marriage isn't something to be entered into lightly, you do it because you know that the person you're meeting at the end of the aisle is someone you don't only want in your life forever, but that you need. Which is why divorce is such a terribly sad thing.

Watching friends you've watched grow up get married is incredible. You see it all in your head-what they looked like when you were kids, arguing about who would get your period first, that time you designed your dream dresses (and laughing to yourself as you compare her incredibly stylish and elegant ivory gown with her old vision of a turquoise monstrosity with sequins and puffy sleeves, topped with a tiara...eight year old's visions of wedding dresses are fairly Big Fat Gypsy Wedding-esque), confiding in each other about your first kisses and talking about what you wanted to be when you grew up. You remember teenage angst, and worries over spots, greasy hair and the boys that didn't like you back, and you then you watch as it all melts away and your friend, that same one who used to wear owl-like glasses and play with furbies, turn into royalty. And it's not the dress that does it, it's not the big venue, the presents or throwing the bouquet. It's love. I've never seen The Bride look so beautiful as she did when she looked at her new husband, or glow quite so much as she did with pride when he gave his speech.

My tears were out of pure happiness-because the little girl I played Tomb Raider and hopscotch with was a woman. And that day, I saw her whole future in front of her-the ups, the downs, the laughter, the tears, the late nights and the early mornings. And I knew all of it would be ok, because she'd be doing it all with a partner in crime who knew her better than anyone, loved her more than anyone and wanted her happiness more than anyone. It's a weird sensation when you realise that you're not your oldest friend's port of call any more, but when you're handing over to someone who loves them that much, it's also one of the best feelings in the world.

So, to The Bride and her lovely new husband- with all my heart I wish you that long, wonderful future.(I promise next time I see you both I won't cry. Well, probably.)
Ash
x

Fringing...

Well Reader, here we are. In a couple of hours I'm getting picked up by the other bridesmaid and we're off to the wedding site, tomorrow I'm bridesmaiding all day and friday I fly to Scotland for my first night performing on The Fringe (sans Tech run, which is happening as I'll be giving a speech for my oldest friend over the wedding breakfast). I have so much to do that my brain has shut down-packing has turned into 'just shove some stuff in a bag and hope for the best', I have to do washing up, drying up, fridge emptying, emptying all the bins and change my sheets so when I arrive home at 7am after an all night coach I can just faceplant into bed. Oh, and I'm in the midst of trying to get in touch with our letting agent to prep for the big move back home. Which is proving bloody impossible.




So what am I doing? Blogging. Of course! I've also spent a large chunk of this morning sorting out my YouTube accounts-essentially I'm setting up a new one for just my acting stuff and auditions which you can see here  to compliment my usual vlogging channel. I've also been dealing with some less nice stuff. I filmed a vlog about feminism the other day, which has got a mostly lovely response. In it I talk about some of the reasons why I think we still need feminism and some of my not-very-nice experiences being a woman. And how most feminists love men too-we just want to be equal to them in the eyes of the world and be treated fairly. Which isn't a very drastic thing to say, but I've spent a while deleting comments and banning people from my channel for sending me and my viewers rape threats, calling me an 'ugly bitch' for having a perspective and calling my lovely regulars (not all of whom agree with me, but who all share their views in a reasoned, respectful and intelligent way) derogatory names. Why do we need feminism? Because a girl can't share her views without people telling her they'll share her home address with convicts and rapists apparently.

Don't worry though, I'm not letting that get me down. Because trolls aren't worth my time. Tomorrow I get to see my oldest friend get married to the love of her life, a man who looks at her like she's rare and wonderful (which, of course, she is), I'm off to Edinburgh with a cast of people I love spending time and acting with, and I spent yesterday kissing someone incredible as the sun set across The Thames. Beats some nasty little boil sitting squawking abuse at their computer, doesn't it?

Life is actually rather beautiful at the moment. And I feel really lucky to be living it. (Even if I STILL haven't finished packing...oh bollocks...)
See you in Scotland Reader!
Ash
x

The perils of being part sloth...

Reader, were you to meet me in real life, you might be fooled into thinking that I am an energetic lass with buckets of get up and go. You would be wrong. I am incredibly busy, yes, and constantly doing stuff, but buried deep beneath all the meetings and auditions and international jobs and projects is a sloth whinging that 'I JUST WANT TO STAY IN BED AND BE FED PIZZA AND HAVE SOMEONE SCRATCH MY BACK'. For, dear Reader, I am a secret lazy bint.

If given the choice, I would always choose to stay in my cosy flat with a delicious meal and a pile of books bigger than my head over going out to a cooler than cool event where I have to schmooze. Don't get me wrong, I love a bit of a schmooze too, but I am so rarely in my home, that the chance to be in front of my telly in my pants with my home made aubergine bake in front of me and an episode of Friends on the telly is just a dream come true.

So this evening, the first evening in a kazillion years when I've actually been in and able to cook a beautiful meal (pasta made out of courgettes in garlic and basil, chicken stuffed with mozzarella and sun dried tomatoes and drizzled with pesto in case you were wondering...) and 3 episodes of Friends later, I am feeling a little guilty about not having done any work or any tidying (I've been out so often of late my room is a rubbish dump with a small space for me to sleep in), I thought I'd share with you some of the struggles of being half sloth and a quarter mattress (on top of my quarter human obviously).

SLOTH GIRL STRUGGLES

1. Mornings

Oh mornings. These days I set three alarms because my bed is SO COMFY, leaving it makes me die a little inside. It's summer at the moment and when I see sun shining in in the morning my first thought is 'Oh, what a beautiful day!' and my second is 'I have NO EXCUSE to stay in bed. Arses.' My favourite kind of day is a day where I have nothing to do and it's pouring down with rain. This hasn't happened for about a year, but even so. 

2. Eating healthily

So, as you might have remembered from previous posts, I am a rather fantastic cook. I can whip up traditional and innovative recipes that will make your head spin so fast you'll get whiplash. But because I'm really really lazy, my current favourite dinner is a cheese string and a bowl of ice cream. Thank god for green smoothies, I'd definitely get scurvy otherwise...

3. When people tell you they're in the area and are going to drop in

 

One big issue I have with being a sloth girl is that my bed very quickly becomes the epicentre of everything. It is my desk, my dressing table and my library. And because, at the moment I am so horrendously (but in the nicest way possible) busy, I have no time to clear it all up. Nor do I have time to tidy the kitchen. Or put on a clothes wash. So when people 'just drop in' it's like panic code red and all of a sudden some very creative 'mess hiding' comes into play

4. People thinking I'm super feminine when I'm actually not



You know why I wear dresses? Because it's only one piece of clothing. Less to wash, less to coordinate and people think I'm FANCY. Know why I have long hair? Because I'm a lazy fucker and cutting and stying takes forever. Also partly because I can whip it back and forth. (Just whip it)

5. Stairs



Much like a sloth, I am lazy, clumsy and do not have lots of control of my limbs. Stairs are not my friends.

6. Exercise



When I do exercise, I am genuinely exasperated that I am not instantly a toned size 8. If I do exercise once a week, I'm so smug that I have issues containing it. A friend of mine who has my ideal figure told me she worked out four times a week for an hour each time. WHO HAS TIME FOR THAT? I'll stick with being a bit lumpy thanks...

7. Thinking one of my arms is a branch, reaching for it then falling to my death



Oh no....wait, that's real sloths...

I bloody love sloths.

Anyway, hope you're well Reader! I'm in bed. Predictably.
Ash
x
p.s don't forget to check out my vlogs! 

Not every first kiss is a First Kiss...

So Reader, I was recently told that my high expectations for a first kiss were pretty terrifying. This is fair. I expect great things from a first kiss, and if they're not great, I tend to lose interest fast. But it was while mulling this over that I realised something-not every kiss is a First Kiss.



Ok, so hear me out. When you kiss someone for the first time, sometimes it's one of those kisses that just doesn't make something click inside you. And you realise that you probably won't be kissing them again after today. Those kisses cannot be classed as First Kisses, since they are also (at least in part) last kisses. They don't mark the start of something that might carry over into another day, week, month or year. It's not a kiss that you'll remember 10 years down the line, when you're kissing them on your way to work or when they bring you a cup of tea done just right. It's a first kiss. Not a First Kiss.

So what constitutes a First Kiss? Because a first kiss lowercase is not the same as a First Kiss uppercase.

A First Kiss is the beginning of something new. It's that moment where you are stepping off a cliff because you're 65% sure there's a bouncy castle at the bottom of the fall. It can only really be judged in hindsight-if you can't remember your First Kiss then why did you have a second? A First Kiss does not have to be perfect (contrary to my high expectations), it just has to make you want to kiss the person again and again. A First Kiss shouldn't be really tricky, it should be something that you want to tell passers by about 'Oh, excuse me-I just had this INCREDIBLE kiss' and then they should applaud. That should be a thing. When I am Emperor of the Universe I shall make it so.

A First Kiss doesn't have to be the beginning of a long term relationship-but it can be the start of something else, the First Kiss of an adventure abroad, or of a fling you'll remember for the rest of your life.

Your First Kiss should be on the DVD constantly playing in your brain of your top ten relationship best bits. Maybe your top 20 if you've had a particularly interesting life. Because some kisses are meant to be held on to and replayed over and over.

A First Kiss should be so good that a brilliant song plays in your head

although possibly not THIS song

But more importantly, a First Kiss should be perfect even if it's not. Because it's with the right person, who enjoyed it just as much (and hopefully also wants to kiss you lots more).

I hope you have some truly brilliant First Kisses Reader!
Ash
x
p.s. Don't forget to check out my vlogs! I release a new one every Tuesday and Friday!

The Richard Curtis Effect...

Reader, living in London is a pretty wonderful thing sometimes. But it sometimes has a rather odd effect on me. I'll be walking across London Bridge with a friend, and suddenly it's as if we've entered a strange dimension, where we're endearingly bumbling English folk. Suddenly we start making grand statements and doing really wanky things, like holding hands and running across in the rain hollering and whooping, or yelling across the Thames. What a bunch of knobatrons.



I call this The Richard Curtis Effect. It's when the feeling of being in London overwhelms you to the point where it feels like your life has become a scene in Bridget Jones or Four Weddings and A Funeral and you start imagining that everyone pauses for comedic effects and certain moments go by in slow motion.

Now, obviously, this has its good points-somehow, cringey moments are less awful when you're imagining what Hugh Grant or Domnhall Gleeson would do during them (and as someone who has truly embarrassing moments day to day, this is cheering). I have learnt to laugh at myself when I do something ridiculous, and just think of it as a story to tell my friends when they need a giggle. Also, how cross can you get with yourself when you think that Richard Curtis is directing your story and thus this is all just a prelude to you being about to fall in love with the guy who reached for that book at the same time as you in the tiny second hand shop?



Because that's the thing about The Richard Curtis Effect-you think that there's always going to be a happy ending, no matter how dire things get. Incarcerated for a drugs offence you didn't commit? The dishy lawyer you're in love with is about to break you out and start your career as an internationally acclaimed journo. Wife dead, leaving you with tiny, angry blond stepson? You're going to get off with Claudia Schiffer and form a bond deeper than most biological father/sons with the sprog. Born ginger? You get to TIME TRAVEL and spend your life with the woman of your dreams. Always late for weddings and leaving a trail of mental ex girlfriends behind you?...Oh...ok, this one is a bit awkward, you're in love with this total dickhead American lady who can't tell when it's raining. (I like to imagine when Four Weddings ends, Hugh sorts his shit out and gets with his fantastically sarcastic best friend who has forever loved him from afar). Your career always goes stellar, your house is always either a cosy one bed above the globe with french windows, a rambling country estate or a snug little cottage covered in roses. You may have some heartbreak, but that makes the story SO much better. As does the fact that you're a little bit fat and you sometimes wear some really, really dire outfits.



When I walk around Southbank, you know what I hear? Well, it depends on my mood actually. If I'm happy, it's 'AIN'T NO MOUNTAIN HIGH ENOUGH etc etc', if I'm sad it's always 'Sorry seems to be the hardest word' and there is inevitably a lot of standing looking across the water, clutching a coat to myself. I know. I am RIDICULOUS. I am not Bridget Jones by any stretch of the imagination (apart from the clumsy side, the love of all cheese, the lack of a tidy bedroom...erm....shut up) but when The Richard Curtis Effect looms, I just go with it, and so does my internal soundtrack.



This has also affected my taste in men. You know who I get crushes on? Boys with posh voices. Floppy hair also leaves me wooed. Men who are polite and gentlemanly, but then also hysterically funny and you could imagine them doing really mad but sweet things for someone they liked (Domnhall travelled through time guys. I'm just saying). I am a SUCKER for romance. I try to deny it, but I am. It's atrocious. I blame things like Love, Actually and Four Weddings ENTIRELY. I fear that without their influence, I would be a far more cynical, realistic woman.



Saying that though-who wants to be cynical? I am a massive optimist, and if that means seeing through the rose tinted glasses of British rom-coms with people with large teeth and larger hats, so be it! I may say things that come out ridiculously wanky sometimes, but I always say them with genuine feeling, I know you can use prescription goggles instead of glasses whilst at the cinema if you lose your specs and I know to never, ever, EVER go back to a man who cheats on you with a lithe American model. Life lessons people.

So go out in London today Reader (if you in fact live there-if you don't...erm...I don't know...watch Four Weddings or something) and enjoy looking through the rom-com goggles!
Ash
x
P.s. Richard Curtis is also responsible for the Mr.Bean movie. Yeah.

It's just (just) a little crush (crush)...

Hey Reader! How are you today? Gosh, isn't that a smart outfit you have on?

Reader, I'm in a good mood at the moment. Why's that? Well, I have the beginnings of a bit of a crush, and whether it comes to anything or not, crushes are lovely things to have.

'But Ash!' (I hear you collectively cry) 'Crushes are terrible things! They could mean unrequited love! Pain! Anxiety! Stress-sweating!'

Calm yourself Reader. Deep breaths. Chill the fuck out.

If you let yourself get hopelessly lost in the crush, well, yes. There is the chance of all of the above happening. Or the crush might be mutual and you might end up getting to have kisses under the moon and stars (see previous blog entry for my aforementioned romance-addiction). Or the crush might just fade when you find out the person picks their nose, or snorts, or votes BNP *shudder*.

The joy of a crush is that you don't know which of the above is going to happen. You get excited when they contact you (particularly if you haven't instigated the contact), you find yourself wearing the good knickers (just in case you get run over by a bus in their company, obviously. n.b. why is this a thing? My gran always told me to wear good undies in case I got hit by a bus, but I feel like if I was hit by a bus a) my clothes probably wouldn't fly off my body and into a neat pile by the side of the road and b) I'd probably have slightly bigger worries), you have dreams where they make a move on you (which, at least in my case, are always vaguely like an episode of Friends. Or Buffy. Or Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog-Neil Patrick Harris, I will wait for you till you're reincarnated into a body that likes lady bits. Promise), you blush when they're mentioned as if people magically can see into your brain and watch said dreams, you find random, insignificant things that you have in common ('LOOK! I FROWN WHEN I READ TOO!') and lots of other brilliant but odd stuff. And crushes have enormous health benefits!



1) I've just seen a face...

When you have a crush, you don't release as much cortisol, so your skin is clearer! How fabulous is that?!



2) Unbreak my heart

Having romantic feelings toward someone decreases your blood pressure and heart rate! (even though it can sometimes feel like it's going to burst out of your chest...Particularly whilst playing footsie or when you're THAT CLOSE to kissing)




3) Everybody hurts

Crushes release similar drugs to pain meds, so aches and scrapes hurt less! Don't believe me? Check this report on the very subject!



4) Sweet like chocolate boy

When you're lusting after someone and you have a suspicion they feel the same way, everything tastes sweeter-which is partly why people tend to gain a little weight in happy relationships. It's all good though, it's happy chub! And it makes food taste gooood. (even the veggie smoothies that I'm currently making myself)



5) Then I got high, then I got high, then I got high

A crush can make you have a reaction similar to getting high-it releases large levels of dopamine into your brain, which make you feel all good. It's a pretty addictive feeling! (And may explain why I'm so dopey around people I fancy)



6) I see the want to in your eyes

Last but not least, when you're around someone you LIKE like, your eyes get all huge and sparkly. Your pupils dilate, giving you the sort of eyes craved by most anime-enthusiasts!




The thing about crushes, Reader, is that we don't enjoy them enough whilst we have them. And then we spend the rest of the time complaining that our love lives are dull. So go! Enjoy your crushes! Just remember that they're not the be all and end all-that title belongs to Asian food, Netflix and how many colours you've painted your nails today.

Cheerio Reader!
Ash
x

Why I deleted Tinder...

Reader, I have a difficult relationship with online dating.

Here’s the thing. I am a true, die hard, hate to admit it, wants to be kissed in the rain whilst being told that ‘IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU’ romantic. The secret is out. Now, there are a number of issues with this. I set my friends up (a lot) because I want everyone to have a happy ending. When I go on dates, if that sparkle isn’t there, I just lose interest almost straight away (and those rare occasions where I have fought through and carried on dating regardless have never ended well). My underwear drawer looks like what the Brothers Grimm would have had in mind for their heroines (mixed with a little Dita Von Teese of course). I own just-in-case ball gowns. I play the ‘true love game’ on tube escalators (pretend you’re in your own rom com, and someone on the escalator going in the opposite direction is THE ONE. Pick anyone, then use your mental powers to make them look at you and ‘have a moment’. (Note; this can go horribly wrong if a) there is no one there you fancy-as you HAVE to choose someone, you might end up with someone dreadful b) you look a bit mad, as you try and make lightning come out of your eyes like Matilda c) They might get the wrong idea and think you’re angling for a shag or something) I also don’t fall in love particularly often. Actually, I don’t even fancy people particularly often. And my ‘type’ isn’t a physical type, it’s a completely personality based one-I like charming, funny men with a geeky streak (who are usually also creatively talented).

Now, part of me being a die-hard-romantic means that I’m not someone who can do casual dating very well. I don’t really LIKE dating (it always makes me feel like a kid pretending to be a grown up), and I find the concept of dating someone I barely know completely bizzare. The last guy I dated I’d worked with and then chatted to on social media for a month or so before I asked out (I KNOW! How bloody brave am I?!) and before that, my ex was someone who had been mentioned in conversations by a mutual friend for TWO YEARS before we dated (and there was a two week period where he showed up at all my auditions and socials, so we hung out a lot before anything actually happened).

So, last year, a dear friend of mine introduced me to Tinder. I had it on for three days, then turned it off, for a number of reasons. 1) I didn’t feel ready to date again after my relationship broke up 2) I kept seeing guys I knew on there 3) All of the men seemed to be really entitled. As in ‘YOU HAVEN’T MESSAGED ME IN A DAY YOU BITCH’ when I’d added them two days before. I messaged back saying, ‘I don’t know you, I don’t owe you anything. Have a nice day.’ Then logged off and deleted the app.

Roll on 10 months and I’d been in the dating pool for a while. My fantastic friend insisted on me downloading the app again so we could play it side by side in SoHo-him doing the ‘men looking for men’ version and me doing ‘men looking for women’. Reader, I won’t tell a lie-at first it was a confidence boost-I had an 100% success rate, with every guy I swiped right on having already said yes to my profile (not that I swiped right on many-when your type is based on personality quirks, Tinder can be tricky). But yesterday, at the airport, I deleted it again. Once more, without having been on a single date.

Why’s that? Well the problem with Tinder is that it makes you lose faith in romance. Can you imagine telling your kids ‘Well dear, daddy was posing topless with a doped tiger in his pic and I just thought-I know nothing about this man, but he’s the one!’ It’s all based on looks, which means it takes a while for you to work out how much of a twat someone is, plus, every time you get talking to someone, they turn out to be AWFUL.  Here are three of the worst I encountered:

    1)      The guy who looked really sweet, slightly geeky (yay!) tall and cute. Until I looked at his ‘about me’ line. ‘If you want to be dominated, you’ve found the right man. I know my way around a rope and will treat you mean’. Erm. No thank you. 

    2)      The guy who was gorgeous in a down-to-earth sort of way, sounded completely normal when we chatted, and then referred to black people by the n-word. OFF YOU FUCK.

    3)      Perhaps the strangest-a lovely property developer. A little older, wiser (one would hope), environmentally aware, dreamed of setting up home in Asia. Talked a little about how our families both came from Ireland, and we both went to schools in a similar area. Asked me if I’d like to go for a drink with him (very politely) and I said yes, but that I was busy for a week or so. Didn’t hear from him for a couple of days, till yesterday-when he sent me a photo of him in his pants. Completely unexplained. In the mid-afternoon. Nearly choked on my sandwich.

App deleted post haste.

I just don’t think it’s for me Reader. I am so confused by the whole thing-but then what was I thinking would happen when I went on a dating app based on what people look like? 

An issue I seem to have in the big wide dating world is that I look one way and am actually a bit different. I have big boobs and a wear big heels and flirt like billy-oh and sometimes wear highly glittery eyeshadow. But I am also a huge geek, secretly shy, prefer being barefoot to wearing any kind of shoes at all, am clumsy as anything, can't go out without two books in my bag, spend too much time baking and kind of want to be Batman when I grow up. Men meet me and think I'm one thing, then get to know me and get confused. So in hindsight, trying to meet someone where they judge you on appearance just would never work for me. 

So I'm going to take a risk Reader. I'm going to just hope I end up with someone the usual way. Well...not usual, I'm an actress, writer, vlogger and baker. I'm probably never going to be entirely conventional. And if that means not being on Tinder, I am fairly ok with that.

Have a lovely day Reader, and remember to check out my vlogs, new ones out every Tuesday and Friday! https://www.youtube.com/user/magenta/videos

Ash

x

Ten reasons it's great to be single...

Reader, as you may have gathered from some of my previous entries, I am single. Which can be a pain in the arse, given that most of my friends are getting married and having babies and I spend most of my life wondering how much ice cream I can eat before I have to exercise, but it also has a variety of plus points (when I can avoid married friends making sympathetic clucking noises at me). Here are ten of my favourites!

Ten reasons being single is fabulous

1. The bed situation

Shh, you filthy minded lot! I'm talking about the fact that because no one will be IN your bed you can keep it in exactly the state you prefer. In my case (and because my bed is also my office) that means piled high with books, notepads, clothes and scripts (which I end up contorting my body round in order to find space to sleep). When I'm seeing someone I end up grudgingly making my bed every day. When I'm single I can be a messy bint.

    2. Not having to hide the fact that you're actually not that interested in intellectual stuff

The moment when you realise that you don't have to pretend to like searingly smart documentaries about the world ending due to humans being dickheads is really, really satisfying. You can just switch over to yet ANOTHER episode of Friends. Or Charmed. Or even Footballer's Wives. AND NO ONE NEED EVER KNOW (Tanya's flicky eyes were the best thing on the box back in the day...). Also, newspapers. You don't have to read them. Apart from The Metro (which doesn't really count) and The Evening Standard (but only to flick to the crossword at the back). And you can lie about it and there will be no one to jump in with 'What are you talking about, you NEVER read the newspapers!'

    3. Not having to plan your schedule around someone else's

You know what I bloody love about being single? That I don't have to diary plan with anyone. I am so busy. ALL THE FREAKIN' TIME. When you're in a relationship, you also have to plan in couple time. As a singleton, I work very hard to plan in ice cream and watching Netflix time (I somehow always manage to squeeze it in somewhere...)

    4. Clothes that few men understand

There are items of clothes in my wardrobe that only women (and a VERY select few high fashion obsessed men) understand. These items are not items that make me look like Jessica Rabbit, they've got interesting cuts and kitch prints and in general I only wear them when I'm single. Because the response I get when I wear them is that women go 'ooohhh that's a fabulous look' and men go 'erm...you look weird'. (Often I do look weird, so this is fine but when I am single I am much happier to experiment with my wardrobe, as I am less likely to show anyone up-my patterned tights have a FIELD DAY)

      5. Inappropriate crushes

When I'm in a relationship with someone I love, I don't get crushes on other people generally-all of my attention and affection is just aimed at that one special person. But when I'm single, there is a WHOLE LOT of inappropriate going on. I had a crush on an 18 year old the other day. Eighteen. As in, almost a decade younger than me and barely legal. AND HE WAS FLIRTING WITH ME. I think. I was mostly trying to stop blushing and telling myself to shape up so I could be wrong. I get crushes on people in relationships, I get crushes on friends. I don't let myself fall for them, sometimes the crushes only last a day and nothing ever comes of them, it's just that for that brief period of time I go all woogly over them (shut up, I can't think of a real word). Being single means life is full of potential. Delicious, entirely inappropriate potential!

   6. Flirting

Ok, so this leads on from the last point. But when you're single you can flirt. Not only that, you can flirt WITH INTENT. Which is ever so much fun.

   7. Kissing takes on more importance

Ok Reader, here's a question-why do people stop kissing in relationships? Ok, so I know that it's a precursor to sex and when you're in a relationship, you're pretty much guaranteed action, but I LOVE kissing! Kissing is the best! And when you're single, kissing is so thrilling. You spend dates thinking feverishly that tonight might lead to that first, wonderful kiss. You have conversations with the person you're crushing on, not actually listening to what they're saying because you're dreaming that they'll grab you and kiss you in the style of Rhett Butler. You carry mints around with you just in case you bump into Nicholas Hoult and he decides to pucker up. Kissing is MAGICAL. I put a lot of meaning on first kisses-if I don't feel a spark then I tend to lose interest fairly quickly-which is probably unfair, but I think kissing is super important. Don't you? Answers on the back of a postcard people...

   8.   Shoe choices

I love high heels. I have far too many of them. But I love them. When I'm in a relationship, I tend to live in flats. This is for a number of reasons. 1) Men get weird if you're taller or as tall as them 2) They get pissy when you're walking slow because it's hard to walk in what are essentially stilts 3) They get embarrassed when you go barefoot at the end of the night. So I end up just giving in and wearing flats. When I'm single, I am super tall. In fact, generally people are shocked when they realise quite how short I really am (it's like my secret identity! Short arse girl!) 

   9. Male friends

I love my boy mates. They make me laugh like a drain, we take the piss out of each other something silly and they give the best hugs. But boyfriends get funny about how close I am with them. Ironically, most of my boy mates are so like brothers to me that I would never go there, but partners seem to think they have something to be jealous of. To be fair, even the most laid back partner might get annoyed to see his girlfriend playfighting with a hunky man she gets on with really well. I'm not saying I ditch my male friends when I have a partner, but it definitely makes it easier being single. (Also, then you can also do number 6 without feeling too guilty)

   10. Being a career girl

I love my career. I love being an actress, a writer and a vlogger. I love it. And when I'm single, I can get properly lost in it. I can spend my days doing the admin stuff that pays the bills and the nights learning lines and recording vlogs. I can spend weeks rehearsing, then getting pissed with cast members in the pub below the theatre. I can become my character with no risk of it affecting my relationship. It's like, so method dahlink. Poncy though this is, it is kind of true-being in a relationship is distracting. If they're not in the industry then they don't understand how you can dedicate so much of your life to something that doesn't pay, if they are then there's always underlying jealousy or resentment (or just the fact that both of you are flighty creative types who might have to leave at a minutes notice). 

Ok, so let's be honest for a second Reader, if I fell in love-like, actual, proper, head over heels love? That would win out over all of these things, because love is very important and wonderful. But at the moment I am not in love, and I am single and I am still happy. And you can be too. Go on, think of a few reasons why being a singleton works for you! 

Tarrah Reader!

Ash

x

The lessons learned from reading...

Reader, one of my favourite authors/poets died today-the wonderful Maya Angelou who wrote 'I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings' and 'Gather Together In My Name'. Recently, another favourite (although entirely different) author passed, Sue Townsend who penned the hysterical Adrian Mole series (as well as The Woman Who Went To Bed For A Year and the brilliant play Bazaar and Rummage). These deaths have made me think a bit about how important books have been to me in my lifetime.

When I say important, I feel like I'm not giving books enough credit. See, when I was a kid, I didn't have many friends. In fact, I got bullied, pretty severely. I learned to read really young (by about 8 years old I was reading books written for young teens quicker than most 15 year olds) and it became a massive form of escapism for me. I may have had to put up with insults and violence, but I could hide in a corner and become Anne Shirley (of Green Gables) or Matilda or Nancy Drew and have adventures in my mind for a few hours.

Before I even left primary school, I had finished all of the books in the school library and within a year of going to high school I'd also chomped my way through all the 'young adult' books in my local library too-so my mum started giving me her books, with the instruction that if I didn't understand any parts of them, to come and ask and we'd talk about them. My mum was pretty liberal, so she let me read books with more mature themes-Daphne Du Maurier, Sue Townsend and Maya Angelou found their way to me and I would sit for hours transfixed by the stories. They taught me how to deal with bullies (by being kind back-it confuses them-and then living a life that makes you happy), what it might feel like to fall in love before I'd even really met any boys, how as a woman you have to know yourself, because the world will try telling you who you are from when you first sprout hips and breasts, that the best heroines have to go through a ton of difficult stuff before they get their rewards, that freckles are not a bad thing, that gumbo tastes wonderful and that porridge can either be the worst thing in the world or the best depending on how it's described, that men who have silver tongues rarely have golden hearts and that love is the most important thing in the world.

Having a well stocked book case in the home is essential for kids. I learnt more about sex (and the consequences of having it) from books than I ever did from sex-ed classes. I also learned about the darker side of humanity-when my friends wanted me to lie to their parents about where they were when they were off with boys they didn't really know, I wouldn't do it, because I'd read tales where things had gone horribly wrong. I was a super safe teenager, because I knew exactly what could happen from all the crime books I'd read. I could explain a number of philosophical and psychological ideas from what I'd read and had a much greater understanding of the greater world than most teens of the same age. Whenever I had a problem, there was a book I could go to that would give me someone else's experience. My life had been lived by a million characters and they were all waiting on my shelf to give me advice.

Give your kids books parents, so they can learn too,
Ash
x

Wedding survival guide for singles...

Reader, it seems like everyone is either getting married or breaking up at the moment. Lovely though the former is, my purse is paying the ultimate price and as a single woman, there's something rather gutting about your loved up friends asking if you're bringing a plus one and having to reply...'nope...just me...' Now, I actually rather like being single. I like the excitement of dating, I find not being in a relationship means I have more time to focus on my career and I have a lot of travelling planned over the next year or so which wouldn't go particularly well with commitment. But there's something about being in your late twenties which means you get a slight pitying face when you go to a wedding alone. I only know this, because I went to weddings with my ex, and it was lovely and romantic and full of hope. When you're single, it's still lovely (because obviously you're overwhelmingly delighted for your loved up friends), but it also gets an extra layer added to it. Something I like to call 'The Single Girl Veil'. So I've made a little survival guide for all you single guys and gals out there, so you don't hulk out this summer at the 10th wedding you attend...

The Ash Acting Up Wedding Survival Guide for singles...

• Bring a cereal bar. The photos take forever and you'll be fainting by the time the food (in inevitably tiny portions) appears.

This is actually good advice for everyone, but particularly the singles. You don't want to be that person obsessively talking about food, or chasing down the (ridiculously fast) canapé waiters. You'll miss all the good conversations! People in couples usually tag team and have one person looking out for food at any given time. You have to look out for yourself, kid. Survival of the fittest! Or, least famished...

• Don't get too drunk

This one is for a number of VERY IMPORTANT REASONS. 1) It's someone else's day. Don't be a selfish twat. 2) People in couples have a partner to help them back to the hotel. You do not. 3) People might assume you're getting drunk because you're sad that you're single. I know, fuck em, but they do not understand that wine is simply delicious and there was NOT ENOUGH FOOD. 4) You might accidentally get off with someone you hadn't intended to. Which reminds me...

• Don't kill the bride when she's set you up with the only other single there, who makes children cry and dogs whine when they walk past

If you're single, I can promise you that it's highly likely you'll already have been auctioned off to the highest bidder without your knowledge. And then you'll get to the wedding and there will be the most awkward introduction in the history of awkward introductions. And inevitably, in some kind of strange Bridezilla/Groomzilla meltdown, they will have remembered ONE THING that you are attracted to and attributed it to someone you would have to have consumed A LOT of booze to spend an hour with, let alone the whole night. 'We remembered you liked creative guys! Jeremy here plays the kazoo!' Even sadder than this is when you first see the guy that they've set you up with and he's gorgeous, poised and well dressed, then you talk to him and he has the personality of a mouldy pear. Remember, it's their big day, deal with the situation elegantly (and don't then get pissed and shag him anyway. I have a friend who did this and still gets hopeful calls from the bloke. Silly girl)

• Don't be bitter

This one is very important. Remember, this day will probably only come once in your friends' lives. You may have been to 4 weddings this month, but they only get one day which is all about their love. Allow yourself to enjoy the romance of it, feel hope that one day you'll meet someone who will want to be legally and spiritually bonded to you and act like a kind and loving fairy godmother/father who has come to bestow good will and charm. Sending out death rays when anyone mentions love doesn't go very well with the day. And it might give you indigestion. 

• Don't let other people shame you about how much you've spent on the gift

As a single person, you have half the income they do. You've had to spend more on a hotel room, more on the trip up and you pay more tax than smug marrieds. So what if you hand made the gift? BUGGER THEM. It's sentimental. Or something.

• Wear good pants

There is a small chance someone might see them. Sex happens at weddings. A lot. My friend was conceived at one (don't you love mums who don't know when to stop talking?). On that note, also bring condoms. There's never any shops near by.

• Don't be ashamed to crack out some classic moves

Look, let's be honest. How likely is it that you're going to meet the person of your dreams at this thing? Not very, I'd say. How likely is it that getting crazy on the dancefloor to Cotton Eye Joe will make you fabulously happy? SUPER LIKELY. Be the first person on that floor. Get everyone jumping, from the 6 year old flower girl to the groom's 82 year old great uncle. Joy is infectious! Who cares if you look like a complete weirdo? You'll spend the night laughing! 

• Don't be the crying girl/boy at the party

This may be harsh, but I have NO TIME for people who get pissed and cry at other people's events. It's not cool. If you're sad, excuse yourself and go home for a little weep. If you are likely to cry after 2 glasses of malibu and lemonade, then don't drink. This kind of relates to the point about getting too drunk and being bitter, but it's essential. Cry with happiness. Cry because the bride looks beautiful, or the groom said something heartbreakingly lovely in his speech, or at the moment when they mention a special person who couldn't be there. That's fine. But don't cry for yourself at a wedding. Or a birthday. Or a christening. Or any event that celebrates someone else really.

• Bring business cards

I know this sounds a bit cagey for a wedding, but what if you meet a supremely awesome business contact? Or make friends with someone whilst dancing to YMCA? Or meet the person of your dreams? Business cards not only mean networking is easier, but if your phone dies you still have a way to keep in touch after the party!

• Don't wear a big hat

You will misplace it. And no one will be able to see if they're sitting behind you.

Well gang, however many weddings you go to this summer, I hope you have a fantabulous time!

Ash

x

p.s. Remember to go watch my vlogs and subscribe to my YouTube channel! I now bring out new videos every Tuesday and Friday!  https://www.youtube.com/user/magenta/videos