warmlove's Diaryland
Diary
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Worst day EV-AH! (Wha'd am I? Chopped liv-ah?)
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You know when your day starts off all peachy-keen... freshly StIves scrubbed and optimistic-like? Then by the days end things have taken a severe nose-dive and you could quite easily do a murder on some unsuspecting East-end passer-by. I started (facial wash reference was appropriate) off the day at the Clarins Head office having a day of training there. It was in a swish glass-tabled board room and the lovely lady passed around hundreds of tubes and pots and canisters of these incredible (brain-washed me)skin-care products and we would slather them all over our hands and cleavage (don't ask). Free lunch and snacks (crayfish and salad bagette..mmmmm) laid-on...lovely cos I obviously I still have no money to spend. Finished early so I bounced out into the hot, hot sunshine. I went to jump on the 8 bus but, of course..that familiar beep beep beep beeeep that cries "You aint even got �1.10 you scumbag in a Zara suit tryin' to look all rich an that like you live in Putney or summat when you can't afford a week travelcard". So I attempted to squeeze a cheeky �5 oyster credit onto my maxed-out credit card but to no avail. My savoir, I knew was the �29 housing benefit cheque at the bottom of my bag! Sweat was pouring down the collar of my frankly, dirty due to the prohibitive cost of dry cleaning, suit jacket. I was stressed and pissed-out and angry. i marched up Bond Street towards Marble Arch with that familiar murderous feeling rising in my throat. I coulda drop-kicked, in succession, an entire group of teenage tourists from Spain..WALK FUCKING QUICKER OR BUGGER OFF BACK HOME AMIGOS..I resisted the urge to holler! Got to Marble Arch Money Shop and waited in line for half an hour all nervous as I knew I didn't have proof of address that they usually ask for. (I wouldn't have minded jumping on the back of a bendy bus to get home and hoping that no inspectors get on but the next morning I had this audition for the part of Joanna Vassa (a period piece about the daughter of a freed African slave and an English Ministers' daughter) the next day in Edgware ..behind God's back in Zone 17 or something!)
But the guy behind the counter was very appologetic for the wait I endured..he had a cute smile and was lovely..Kinda flirting but he was gay, however he did thankfully let me off the proof of address..I LOVE YOU! I wanted to shout out!!! Got my money, over-the-moon..but it wasn't enough to buy a week travel card which would at least mean I wouldn't have to worry about how to get to work for a week..food would be another issue...Loaded enough wonga to get onto that 8 bus...was the longest, stickiest journey of my life..stuck opposite two misogynistic nineteen year olds ('bruv, her face was butters, why did you go out with THAT?')..I had to whip off my flesh coloured tights off in full gaze of the drivers mirror...laddered them as a result. Excellent! Another fiver down the drain!
Got to Bow, dashed to library to print the Joanna Vassa script, stocked up on cheap starchy food from Iceland, walked home, relived that I'd be able to cook up some dinner and lunch for the next few days. Get to my house and....key in lock..struggle, struggle..the door is JAMMED!!!! Can't get in. Try for 25 minutes to get in! YAAARGH!!!!!! I turn around a very cute blue eyed bloke with a squash racket asks if I'm okay? Do I live here? 'Yes, unfortunately.. I'm really struggling. Thankyou so much'. He jiggles around for a bit as I pull the door at the same time. Very cute, especially if he shaved his demi-goatee! 'Erm..sorry..I can't'..and he's off. What a hero. I phoned my Dad in sunny west wales to ask him if locksmiths are ever free in London, knowing the answer before I hear it! I went to the intimidating Barbers next dooe to the Arts Centre and asked of they had a spanner I could borrow (I had concocted a plan as my dear Dad, bless him, rabbited on about Chubbkeys and Summer Door fram swelling!) The barber said "Yes, yes Princess..I sent you one of my big heroes, my big hero man!'...Five minutes later this stocky little Bangladeshi man waddles out! He was my hero..muscles tensed he twisted and wiggled (the door) like he'd never twisted and wiggled before..and BANG...door open! Hooray, they cheered all over Bow ! She was in at last!!!!!! Ready to prepare for the audition of her..erm..week...Which turned out (I write at the end of the next day, just about to go down to Vicky Park with The Allegra..post-audition) to be a pretty short but ..erm...sour audition..but It was funny when me and the guy readiing for the part of my husband how unimpressed the Director was and how I waffled senslessly when asked what i felt about the script!!! Ah, how I laughed/fucked it up!
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4:09 p.m. - 2010-07-22
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