19th April 2016 

Top 20 memories from when we went to Cuba:

1. With my hands full of breakfast items, spotting a black cardigan on the floor of the coffee shop at the airport, and a woman comes to the rescue…

Me: Thank you, but I don't think that's mine.
Woman: Oh, is it not?
Me: Well, I don't think it's mine. I'm not sure... it might be.
Woman: Well, do you have a black cardigan?
Me: Well yes, but I don't know if that black cardigan is mine - I don't remember taking it off.
Woman: But are you wearing a black cardigan?
Me: Um, I think so. I don't know…
Woman: (slowly) When… you… got… dressed… this… morning… did… you… put… on… a… black… cardigan…?
Me: Yes.

Woman gives me black cardigan. Woman walks away.

It was my cardigan.

2. The woman on the plane that had a plastic bag on her head for the entire 10 hour flight.

3. The angry attendant looking after the toilets just outside the arrivals gate at Havana airport demanding money when you can't get Cuban money until in Cuba (most toilets have a toilet attendant who expects a small tip after your visit.)

4. It's acceptable to have rum for breakfast.

5. Our tour guide, after making me crick my neck looking up at the sky out of the car window to see the amazing view up above, squealing about "the aeroplane going to the international airport".

6. Toilets are bad. I'm talking that toilet in Trainspotting. I've never been great at 'the hover' but post-Cuba? Thighs of steel. Especially as the cubicle door was often too close to the toilet - advanced yoga position required. Including rest breaks.

7. It's acceptable to have rum for lunch.

8. Trekking for 3 hours through vast barren fields in the high sun with a machete-wielding non-English speaking farmer who would sporadically cut down sugarcane or fruit for us to try *blocks out every horror film set in the rural outback*

9. All tourists carry antibacterial gel at all times.

10. Being very English in the queue for the Che Guevara museum - our guide trying to encourage us to slide up the queue next to the French brunette (somehow she thought I would blend in with her… maybe all Europeans look the same to her and we have the ability to merge into one being) and the guide heading up to the front to sneak us in quicker. We pretended not to hear and stayed where we were waiting patiently for our turn even though we were stood right under the midday sun with little sun cream and no water.

11. It's acceptable to have rum for dinner.

12. Playing real-life Mario Kart - avoiding huge crabs in the roads and cows in the fields.

13. Not seeing the moon until the 12th night in Cuba. Literally wasn't there.

14. Thinking me and my boyfriend were close until we had to share a poo bin. No matter how many rums you have, that's never ok. In addition, the Cuban diet is pork, rice, cheese, ham, rum, pork, cheese, rice and pork. The bin isn't emptied daily.

15. Being called "Hemma" for 2 weeks.

16. It's acceptable to have rum as a midnight snack.

17. EVERY Cuban owns a cockerel.

18. Seeing 3 adult hummingbirds and 2 baby hummingbirds with next to no effort (see item 15 of "Top tips on a trip to Spain")

19. The 21 hour journey home beginning with a 2 hour taxi ride to the airport only brightened by the taxi driver playing "English music" for us. Cue George Michael - "Careless Whisper", Gloria Gaynor - "I Will Survive", and Boney M - "Brown Girl in the Ring".

20. But the line of the fortnight goes to the Cuban host after seeing my sunburn:

"In England, you are nigger".



And that was Cuba.

 

8th September 2015 

Top tips on a trip to Spain:

1. Don't accept what you think the nice lady at the check-in desk said without having a quick look at your boarding pass whilst sitting in Wetherspoons with a prosecco… "Could passengers Neep and Soley please may your way to the gate as the entire plane is waiting for you."

2. Don't be late for your gate if you're really unfit as running across the width of Gatwick when you've just had a full English makes you feel sick for half your flight.

3. Don't just turn up for world famous landmarks and expect to stroll in. Order tickets online before you rock up. To anywhere.

4. Don't go to the Nou Camp and decide it would be nice to take in the atmosphere of the area after the game. This will make you miss the last tube, and the buses and taxis will be too busy, and you will have to walk an hour back to your hotel.

5. Don't do this on the day you have been up since 6am travelling from London to Barcelona.

6. Don't do this if you are wearing new sandals.

7. Don't stop at the shop outside the Nou Camp and buy 9 litres of water for your hotel room that you will have to carry for the hour long walk.

8. Don't try to pronounce the word for 'water' in authentic Catalan. You will sound like you're doing a tribal chant and the Catalan will laugh at you.

9. Don't let someone clone your details so that your credit card is declined at dinner whilst someone gambles away your money in America.

10. Don't research lots of nice cava bars and get your hopes up about visiting them. They'll probably be closed. Apparently they go on holiday too.

11. Don't attempt a romantic picnic on a rock next to a swarm of mosquitos.

12. Don't order your next drink before finishing your current one. The waiter will presume you have finished and will take your drink away forcing you to leap to its rescue like a parent on a BBC tour.

13. Don't order tapas without checking the accompanying sides. You may end up with 8 types of carbs as a lunchtime snack.

14. Don't forget to turn. Or at least make it to the beach for the morning as well as the afternoon.

15. Don't excitedly spend 45 minutes stalking the elusive Spanish hummingbird only for Wikipedia to tell you it was a moth.

 


24th July 2014

Did a stand-up gig today. I think it went well but I did manage to spoil a 17th Century clock, so... you know... swings and roundabouts.

 


26th July 2013

 

A lot has happened in a year. I was going to give you a day-by-day account of the last 378 days but it's getting pretty late and I have an early start in the morning. In a nutshell, I've made some rather life-changing decisions lately and I couldn't be happier. It's been nearly two years since I moved to London with the intention of becoming a comedian. A few weeks ago I realised that I haven't performed one second of comedy since I have been here.

I have been lucky enough to work, for the majority of my time in London, in the world of TV. More specifically, comedy TV. That in itself is pretty cool, and something that I would never take for granted. But there comes a point (probably around 10pm one snowy evening when you are wearing 12 layers of clothing yet somehow you're still colder than you thought was humanly survivable, you've eaten 18 biscuits to try and muster up some sort of sugar-induced energy, you've been up since 4:30am and you find yourself thinking 'I am 27 years old... I tried hard at uni... I am a good person... it wasn't supposed to be this way...') that you start to re-think your career plan. Don't get me wrong, there were some incredible sides to the job too. I mean, I was lucky enough to work on a comedy that went on to win a BAFTA. That felt nice. But I also worked 80 hour weeks, on less than the minimum wage, with quite often (but not always) egotistical, selfish people, never receiving any form of respect or reward. That didn't feel so nice. Part of me wants to start a TV revolution and control working conditions, bringing the whole industry into the 21st Century. But I know it would take more than my childlike voice to sort things out.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I've decided to stop messing around and do what I actually came here to do. I now have a 'normal' Monday-Friday 9am-5pm job with some of the nicest people I have ever met, and have evenings and weekends to write comedy and have a social life. I have seen more of my friends and family these last few weeks than I have in the last two years. I never realised just how important it is to have a glass of wine and a catch up with friends until I started doing it regularly. There's also a lot to be said for having regular income and working with like-minded friendly people. I have realised I would rather be appreciated in a job that allows me to work pro-actively towards my goals with lovely kind people, than work in the industry I ultimately want to be a part of but doing menial tasks for people who more often than not, wouldn't survive a day as a runner.

Rant over, now to look to the future. My first stand-up gig is in 4 days. Maybe I should be writing my set instead of writing this blog.

I'll just finish this catch-up wine with the family first...


13th July 2012

People are weird aren't they? I keep getting accosted by charity workers at the moment. I think I need a sandwich board saying 'I can't afford to pay my bills' and then on the back 'let alone give to charity'. They're not helping themselves when they start the conversation by asking me if I'm over 18. 'No' I reply, when actually I'm probably 7 or 8 years older than them. I did have another child-like moment the other week though when I was in a fancy European restaurant and we decided to go all out and try some snails. They came in their bowl with the special snail-eating apparatus. But no instruction booklet. I ended up asking the waiter to demonstrate how to eat the snails. It was the equivalent of asking your mum to cut your food up for you. We laughed and carried on as though it was the norm. 

Anyway, With the charity workers, sometimes I pretend I'm texting on my phone so that I don't make eye contact with anyone, but then one guy said "You don't need to text me love, I'm right here". Oh dear. He blatantly doesn't know me. One guy once asked me what my middle name was. I bit my tongue so as not to reply with "Space" as has been my standard answer for that question most of my life. I think my mum and dad knew 'Neep' was enough to deal with, without giving me a middle name to worry about.

Those people seem normal compared to the folk from my home county of Norfolk though. I got the train from London Kings Cross to King's Lynn yesterday. There were some disruptions due to an awful accident where a train had run into a car on a level crossing. The train driver announced over the tannoy, in quite a strong Norfolk accent, that there 'would probably be a replacement bus service in place' but he 'wasn't sure', so our instructions were to 'just check'. An elderly lady took the driver's 'advice'and when we were forced off the train 30 miles from home, she asked an attendant on the platform the best way for her to make the rest of her journey to Lynn. "Just follow someone else" came the reply. I can imagine her now having dinner in someone's house, having followed them out of the station, still asking for directions home.

At least she would have avoided the posh lady on the bus on the way home though. She gave her grandson a £10 note to play with. He made a paper aeroplane out of it. I wish I had money as toys. She called her husband to let him know they were going to be home late because "someone had decided to go on a jolly and throw themselves across the tracks". Wow. I mean, I wasn't there when the accident happened but I'm pretty sure there wasn't anything 'jolly' about it and I'm sure the poor family who tragically lost their father/son/husband are not having a jolly time now. I'm sorry, I'm being inconsiderate towards the woman and her problematic journey - I mean she did get home 50 minutes later than scheduled. I'm not sure who came off worse really.

I am hardly a good representative of a Norfolkian acting against the stereotype though, as the last time the clocks changed, it took me until around 3pm to realise I hadn't changed my watch. I unknowingly made everyone have their lunch an hour later than usual (god forbid anyone would get their own lunch). Good thing was, when I did realise, I was an hour closer to home time. It's actually a really good tip if you want to make your day go by quicker.

As much as I would like the old buggars of Norfolk to hold the top spot on the Weirdest Folk poll (even today I saw a pub called 'Black Boys Inn'... brilliant), there is one community that pips them to the post. Two words. Kentish Town. Here's my top 5:

5. The man who sits just inside the door to the Co-op every single day just watching everyone do their shopping.

4. The man who nips to the shop wearing a towel around his waist.

3. The lady who always has her face painted white.

2. The lady who always has her face painted red.

1. The lady who takes naps leaning against traffic lights.

Kentish Town does attract some high clientele on occasion though, it must be said. I had a pizza with Michael Palin the other day. Well, he was at the next table. I watched him the whole time like some undercover paparazzi. He paid in cash, put on his coat and headed towards the door. "Bye Mike!" I shouted as he passed our table.

He didn't reply.

 


23rd April 2012

I've had a lot of fun on public transport recently. I don't know whether you've ever tried to get from Preston to London on a megabus, but I can tell you now there's nothing 'mega' about them. I lost seven and a half hours of my life that day. The only highlight was the bus driver announcing over the tannoy that we would have to stop at Manchester because they can't read train timetables there. Not only does this not really make sense, I'm pretty sure that he was from Manchester himself so I don't really understand what his point was. He followed up his analysis with a comment on the ever-increasing cost of Virgin Trains. Fair point, I thought. He then continued on to note that those flying by plane had better remember that the FlyBe planes have one engine on the wing instead of two.... I'm sorry, you what now? Those flying by plane? Engines on the wing? Am I in a film? And remember this is all being said over the tannoy to a bus full of people. And just when I thought the driver's announcements had peaked, we were all given a stern warning about not standing up out of our seats until the bus had stopped moving. Ah that's nice I thought - he's concerned about our safety. But oh no,the reason behind his concern was that he simply didn't like filling out paperwork if somebody was to 'slip on their bum'. Although if anybody didn't follow the rules, the driver would call the police and he would find that 'really entertaining' so, you know, every cloud...

I shouldn't complain though as at least everyone on the bus was house trained. I got on the tube the other night after a lovely evening out - treated to a nice meal, taken to a show, and as we sat down on the tube to go home, I commented how the boy opposite us looked so deep in his sleep that I worried he had missed his stop. I wish I hadn't had so much concern for his welfare. If you've ever wanted to clear a bit of space on a tube carriage, try projectile vomiting from the sleeping position. In approximately 2.6 seconds, he had his pick of the seats. And all this whilst developing his own clothing range. 'Vomit Trousers' I believe they were called. I mean, I personally loved them and we even took a pair home with us. At least the incident made me extra vigilant when encountering the exact same situation the very next day. Except this time I think the guy was genuinely ill and didn't make contact with any part of me. I let him off.

It seems the tube is generally a good way to develop new fashions. For instance, I was recently close to launching a new look of wearing just one shoe instead of two. I casually donated my other one to the train tracks. Luckily, it was right in the middle of rush hour so there were plenty of people in the stampede behind me to notice me hopping with arm outstretched towards my quickly disappearing slip-on (or should I say 'slip-off'?) shoe. A lady saw my panic and came to my rescue. There was giggling. I made a joke about turning up to work with one shoe on. There was some tumbleweed. I looked down and went out of my way to not make eye contact with anyone for the rest of the journey.

And you thought commuting was boring. 

 


11th January 2012

I almost accidentally sent my boss to Ghana today. He wanted to go to Ethiopia. I spent a good couple of hours trawling through flight comparison sites, ringing up travel agents, trying to get the best deal. I was looking for a specific flight so that he could travel with a colleague who had already booked his ticket, but could only ever match half the flight each way. I blame the fact that flights to Ghana and flights to Ethiopia both stopover at Frankfurt. This only encouraged me to have my mouse poised over the 'BUY' button after carefully selecting my flights to Ghana. And to write an email to the colleague who had their flights already booked to tell them that they must have got the name of the hotel wrong as there isn't a Sheraton Hotel in Ghana. There's a Sheraton Hotel in Ethiopia FYI. I spent the next hour imagining receiving a phone call from my boss in the middle of the night - "Gemma, why am I in Ghana?". Awkward.

This must be another example of why people don't see me as a grown up. I had a haircut the other day. You know when you first sit down and the hairdresser asks you if you want a cup of tea or coffee? Well, this hairdresser asked me if I wanted a squash. A squash. I'm 26 in a few months. Yes I thought, I would like a squash, but only if you have a plastic cup. And maybe a straw. I don't want to make a mess. As the conversation developed, I told her that I lived in London. I knew straight away what her first question would be. "Oh are you studying there?" "No", I replied immediately. "I finished uni nearly 4 years ago". Cue the moment's silence and slightly puzzled look as I see the cogs turning in her head trying to work out how I'd finished uni so long ago at such a young age. It's a conversation I have most weeks. As we discussed hair styles and products, I told her that I use 'DustIt' in my hair. She asked me if my mum ordered it for me. I'm not even joking. I didn't know how to respond. So I said "yes". I really wasn't helping the situation. As I went to pay by card, the hairdresser told me that they didn'thave a card machine and they only took cash. I didn't have any cash on me so I explained that my Dad was sat outside in the car waiting for me so I'd go and ask him for some money. I might as well have just walked back in holding his hand.

It was almost as embarrassing as last week when I proudly presented my Boots Advantage Card at the till and the cashier told me I was in Superdrug. But not quite as embarrassing as the time I got home from work on the day the maintenance man had been round, to find the oversized cardboard cut-out of a man (that I used as a prop in a performance I might add) that I keep behind my wardrobe stood in the middle of my bedroom. I can see it now. The maintenance man pulling the wardrobe forward to get to the plug, sees the cut-out, pulls him out, looks around to see if I'm lurking in a corner staring at him, and heads for the door, scared for his life. I'm guessing that plug will stay broken for a while yet then. I can't even have a glass of wine to recover from all of this. I'm on a complete ban of wine and biscuits/cake for as long as physically possible. Which won't be much longer if I'm honest. It's been 9 days. It feels like 9 months. I actually dream about people with wine glasses for heads and biscuits for palms. I don't even need to be asleep to see them. And the shops aren't helping me. I went in Tesco today to find their new display of 'Seasonal Chocolate' staring right at me. Chocolate bunnies and Creme Eggs. I don't even like Creme Eggs but I still wanted one. Luckily a woman with a madeira cake for a neck picked one up and it put me off. Happy Easter everyone.

   


6th December 2011

Got up mega early today and joined the swarm of travellers in the race to get to work on time, and spent the rest of the day slaving away so keenly that if you looked close enough, you would see steam rising from my body. No wait... that's not true. I'm actually unemployed.

Finding a job is hard. After begrudgingly accepting the fact that I need to look for a temporary job that isn't what I want to do and will probably make me cry every night until it's over, I skipped to the recruitment agency at the top of my road. The man was lovely. Didn't have any jobs for me, but was lovely. When I told him I worked in television, he said 'yeah you look like you do'. I'm slowly learning that people can tell alot from my looks. (Why isn't my 'I'm a comedy writer and performer and you want to pay me to make comedy' look shining through?!) After trudging around the shops on the High Street searching for non-existent 'Christmas Vacancies' signs, I strode home to search the internet for jobs further afield. I opened my laptop to find my internet not working properly. I rang the internet dongle people and a lady answered. She was definitely in another country as I could hear my voice after I used my voice and I could hear my voice at the same time as I could hear her voice. I loved it. She also had a very strong accent. I loved that too. But what I loved the most was that she had hiccups. We had a sterling conversation. On more than one occasion I had to use the phrase "I don't know what you want me to do. I'm just looking at the screen".

When I got off the phone, I had a firm voicemail from my estate agent demanding to know why I hadn't paid my rent and that I would incur charges for not paying on time. I was told to ring back urgently to explain myself. I rang her back and explained that I had paid my rent over a week ago and that I wasn't really up for paying a fine for avoiding something that I hadn't avoided. I've already got people on my back about a water bill for a property that I didn't even live in. The estate agent realised that she hadn't received rent from 5 or 6 other tenants that were all due on the same day so decided that maybe there was a problem her end. Yeah... maybe.

4:20pm glass of wine? Don't mind if I do... 

 


14th November 2011

Found myself collecting raw turkeys from a butcher's at 7am this morning. One had to travel on the passenger seat because there wasn't much space in the car. Only just managed to refrain from putting it's seatbelt on. Maybe its thoughts like that, that stop others from seeing me as a grown up. I answered the phone to a colleague today who thought she had rung the wrong number because she had thought she was talking to, and I quote,"a little girl". Later on, I met the big boss of the company I work for. We hadn't met before. He asked me if my mum knew that I had gone out in the cold in just a t-shirt. She didn't know. I wonder how long it will take to get rid of the turkey smell in my car?


29th October 2011

Spent my evening with Colin Mochrie, Greg Proops and Wayne Brady off 'Whose Line Is It Anyway?', and Fred Willard off Anchorman. Just a regular Saturday night. And I got two free glasses of wine. Oh and some other guy was there too. I wasn't really sure who he was though so I wasn't bothered about him. Someone called Ricky Gervais or something... Like I say, I wasn't bothered.

 


28th October 2011

A few days ago I was on the platform at the station and as the train slowed down, I made eye contact with a bloke who I thought was somebody I went to High School with 7 years ago, over 100 miles away. We had that awkward moment where we're both staring at each other, not completely sure if the person we're staring at is actually the person we think it is. I looked away. I looked back again. I was pretty sure it was him. I got on the train and thought no more of it. Today I bumped into that same person in the street. I told him I thought I'd seen him on the tube the other day. I hadn't.

 


17th October 2011

Sometimes I wonder when the day will come that,in the eyes of the general public, I will be a grown up. Today I went to register at my local doctor's surgery. The lady on reception asked me how old I was and I replied with "I'm 25". In a split second, she looked up at me, squealed with delight and shrieked "Oh! You're so cute!" Brilliant. What with her, and the man serving me in the supermarket the other day telling me that I 'looked like' I had a nectar card, I think I need to stop going out in my Sainsbury's pink rabbit suit.

 


9th October 2011

I went food shopping for the first time in ages today. I realised I hadn't fed myself for about three weeks as I've been getting free food at work. And when it's free you take advantage don't you. In a day and a half I worked out I'd eaten scrambled eggs on toast, a banana, a cheesy bagel, a beefburger in a roll, a bratwurst, a caesar salad, 2 pavlovas, some sour sweets, a white chocolate magnum, more scrambled eggs on toast, a sausage, cheese on toast, pepperoni pasta, some vegetables, treacle tart and custard, some wine gums, an egg wrap and a seafood wrap. That's a lot. So I'm in the supermarket today and I wheel my trolley to the checkout. I didn't realise it was a 'Basket Only' aisle. A supervisor approached and informed the checkout lady that she shouldn't serve trolley people before 8pm. It was only 5:30pm. I explained that I hadn't noticed the sign and that it really wouldn't be a problem for me to move to another checkout. The supervisor wasn't happy and asked the checkout lady if she minded serving me. She wasn't bothered.There wasn't even anyone else in the queue. I thought the supervisor was going to arrest me. I won't be mixing up my checkouts again. I might get my clubcard confiscated next time. It just wouldn't be worth it.

 


28th September 2011

Today, whilst driving in busy traffic, I found myself getting increasingly annoyed with pedestrians wandering out into the road and cyclists pulling out in front of me. I had to make a very important decision - whether my desire to teach these people a lesson was greater than my desire to not be a murderer.

 


26th September 2011

Just seen Adrian Chiles walking down the street in Soho. He was wearing a full on grey tracksuit. For a second I thought 'He's late for The One Show'. Then I realised he wasn't on it anymore.

 


22nd September 2011

This week I found out I have the same life as Sarah who I work with. She has an uncle in New Zealand, I have an uncle in Australia. She has a cousin called Emily Rose, I have a second cousin called Emily Rose. She lost her grandad a couple of weeks ago, I lost my step-grandad a few days later. We both don't like the taste of water. We have both dated people with the same hair and clothes. We have both dated people with the same job. We both love Primark. We both have a theatre degree. Our favourite supermarket is Asda. Sarah's favourite tipple is red wine. My favourite tipple is red wine. Neither of us are keen on Keira Knightley's acting. We have both unsuccessfully attempted philosophical conversations with our friends about the weirdness of sleeping/dancing/food/hair. (Why does everyone put themselves in a soft square in a darkened room and let themselves slip into a short coma every night? Why do we fling our limbs about when we hear a particular noise? Why do we get excited about meal times like its a new experience when we eat potentially three times a day, every single day? Why do girls find it necessary to shave the hair on their legs and under their arms, yet to have a huge mound of hair on top of their head where everyone can see it, is perfectly acceptable?) The list goes on. Considering dying my top-of-the-head, fully-acceptable hair blonde so that we perfectly match.

 


19th September 2011

Managed to flood my kitchen and living room by cleaning the bin. Didn't know the bin had a hole in the bottom. Laid a towel down and left the flat in the hope it would have cleaned itself by the time I returned. Decided to get a haircut. The hairdresser, after she had washed my hair, told me it would cost an extra £10 to dry it. I dried it myself on a hand dryer in the ladies. Met an older woman who had been to the same hairdressers and wasn't happy with her cut. She cried. She'd had her hair done for her mother's funeral. She asked me to go back to the hairdressers with her and tell them she was upset. I did. Then swiftly left. Went home. The towel was still there.

 


13th September 2011

Just seen a whole shelf of Christmas stuff in Morrisons. September 13th people. September 13th.

 


12th September 2011

Met Michael off I'm Alan Partridge today. He's not Geordie in real life. He should be. I tried to earwig on his conversations but I had to be subtle as he's married to someone I work with. I hate how often I find myself in situations where I have to pretend to be cool when really I want to stroke their face and ask for a picture.

 


9th September 2011

Found myself telling Kathy Burke all about my new flat this morning. We then discussed the differences between Manchester and London, city-wise. Just a regular Friday morning conversation.

 


8th September 2011

Bumped into Sean Lock in a bar at 11am. (They sell coffees too).

 


6th September 2011

Bumped into Gok Wan in a lift today. He was coming out as I was going in. He had a bit of a shiny face. I was glad because sometimes I have a shiny face.

 


5th September 2011

Spent the morning in the same room as a really good looking man. Spent the afternoon sitting in front of Jack Whitehall. I wish that work would inform me of these things so that I could dress more appropriately.

 


2nd September 2011

I'm in the Mercedes again. I look out the window and casually see a giraffe sauntering along. Turned out to be London Zoo. Think I preferred it when I thought it was just strolling to the shops.

 


1st September 2011

Just found myself 'doing emails' in the back of a chauffeur driven Mercedes. I know it was a Mercedes because I googled the logo on the steering wheel. Just a shame it's 7:40am.

 


30th August 2011

Just cleaned my teeth with the warm water that came out of the cold tap. It's now midnight and I can hear Enrique Iglesias 'Hero' coming from the people in the next room. I can hear Jewish music coming from outside. I look out the window to see about 30 people across the road crammed in a small kitchen, sitting on worktops. For once, a trip to the synagogue suddenly seems the better option.

 


29th August 2011

Checked into a hotel for a week as my flat isn't ready until Saturday. I'm pretty sure that in order to stay here, I'm supposed to be Jewish. Didn't twig when I read that the hotel was called 'King Solomon Hotel'. Considering asking for a bacon sarnie for breakfast. 

 


26th August 2011

Today I walked into a room and saw a BAFTA, a National Television Award, and a British Comedy Award casually standing on a shelf with about 10 other awards. I realised this is where I work. I mean,like, my actual job.

 


17th August 2011

I had a job interview in London today. Afterwards, I went to look around some areas I might live in. My shoes hurt. Alot. I decided a pair of white socks might help. I couldn't find any. The only socks I could find had union jacks on. They were very bright against my white shoes. I either looked like a very keen tourist or a very patriotic local. I was neither. But I didn't care. I'd had a phonecall. I have a proper job working on a new comedy written by Kathy Burke at Tiger Aspect Productions in London.

 


12th August 2011

Ewen Macintosh just watched my performance on YouTube. He said it was, and I quote, 'very funny'. He is now following me on Twitter. Keith off The Office is following me on Twitter. I told him if he ever needed an awkward 25 year old girl, he knew where to find me. He said he does need one but not in the way I meant. Not sure if I'll speak to him again.

 


29th May 2011

Went with my 27-year-old brother to see my Nan in St. Germans today. She has lived in the same house longer than the 25 years I have been alive. They had closed a road on the way so we followed the diversion. Then the diversion signs stopped. We got lost. My baby niece was in the car. She wanted milk. We'd forgotten to take it with us. I rang my Nan for directions. We were still lost. We passed a white bridge. We passed some stacks of hay. We needed milk. We passed a field. We passed a white bridge. The baby was crying lots. We were in a field. We passed a white bridge. We saw the motorbike in front obliterate a small rabbit. I screamed. The baby screamed more than me. We passed a field. We passed a white bridge. We passed some stacks of hay. We passed a white bridge. I rang my dad. 'Where are you?' he asked. 'Near some fields' I replied. 'I've seen a white bridge'. An hour and a half later, we ended up back at my Mum and Dad's. Fed the baby. Got back in the car with my Dad at the wheel. We were at my Nan's in 10 minutes.

 


21st May 2011

A good friend of mine got married today. I was Chief Bridesmaid. Chief of drinking a fair amount of champagne, half a bottle of rum and a Baileys nightcap the night before. I couldn't see to put my makeup on this morning. I saw my breakfast twice. I had my hair done then had a 2 hour nap whilst keeping my head in an upright position. I couldn't eat my starter. I ate my main course outside on a picnic table about half an hour after everyone else had finished theirs. I wish I could have hidden it as well as the bride.