Janey's Blogs - February 2006
Wednesday the 1st of February 2006
12:58:35 AM
Dentist and sleepiness…
So I slept too much again, I almost died when my
alarm woke me up to get myself to the dentist for the ongoing treatment
I am getting for my new smile. I lay on his couch and almost slept
with my mouth open.
He proceeded to start working on my new crown and preparing my teeth
for the veneers that he is putting on next week. This involved scratching
the front of my teeth to make them rough enough to hold the small
shells that are whiter than my old yellow choppers…which actually
are whiter since I have been using the night time bleaching treatment.
I hate the night time bleaching thing, I have to squeeze this clear
gel into these rubbery mouth forms that fit over my teeth, I hate
them as I cannot sleep with them in, so there is a true fact that
women cannot sleep with something in their mouths …men take
note!
So I now have rough front teeth that make me feel like a wee cats
tongue is in there. As I run my tongue over my teeth its like roughcast
walls!
I start my comedy with confidence workshops tomorrow
with the local teenagers and I am so looking forward to it.
I also took bookings today for gigs in Holland in April, I love
gigs in Amsterdam, and the people are amazing there. The only thing
that bothers me is, I am getting stressed with all the travelling,
I hate the packing, the unpacking, the trains, planes and taxis…makes
me cranky as fuck to be honest. It feels so good to be on my own
sofa.
I need to stop moaning about it all, as it is stupid to keep moaning
about it as I chose this life!
I read today in the Scottish press that a young
girl aged eleven is being treated for heroin addiction, I cant tell
you how awful that is especially as I have been working with the
heroin addiction teams who are prevented from going into junior
schools and making them aware of heroin dangers.
Can you believe that the government prevents them for trying to
help kids?
That’s absurd, when my daughter was five years
old, I took her to a young girls funeral, she had died of heroin
overdose, I wanted Ashley to see the horrific final events of drugs
and then I took her to every drug death funeral till she was nine
and that was nearly fourteen deaths she attended.
My daughter had to see what happened, now I don’t assume that
would stop her taking drugs BUT I do know that Ashley was aware
of the results of heroin.
It does help to educate kids about drugs…as early as possible in my opinion.
Friday the 3rd of February 2006
03:18:56 AM
Me at 3am
So I caught the train to Aberdeen, I finally get
to the wee bed and breakfast. My hands were so cold dragging my
trolley case that fingers went blue and I could not even write my
name in the register. Aberdeen is freezing. The gig was completely
sold out and the crowd were well noisy, the first two acts went
on and got some level of respect and were very good, but up the
back the guys were chatting and heckling.
I dealt with them fine and one guy shouted “Stop speaking you
bitch” I was annoyed and answered “Is that you arguing
with your gay lover?” The crowd let out a big laugh and
then the guy replied “Actually Janey, I was telling those two
women talking to shut up”
That was ME shut up! I did apologise and the crowd
laughed and I said “I am not used to people standing up for
me!”.
They were a really nice bunch, so I finished the gig and walked
home in the near 2 below zero frost taking my breath from my body.
My lips are sore as I had to go back to the dentist this morning
at 9am as the impression he took to get my veneers made went wrong
and that blue sticky stuff tears the skin from my lips…all
my fault I suppose for giving the dentist a ‘bad impression’….BOOM
BOOM!
So here I am in the wee room.
The bed and breakfast kindly gave me the smallest
room;
I asked “Do you have a smaller room than this?”
“No…that’s the smallest one we have” the lady
answered.
“I thought so” I smiled.
It really is small and narrow
and get this- there is three sets of lights in here with three different
light switches! I mean for fucksake, you strike a match in here
and the place is illuminated!
So I am awake as I have a five am cab ride to Dyce
Airport in Aberdeen as I am the Tricia Goddard chat show tomorrow,
they have a one off special dealing with abuse survivors who are
making the best of life….well I don’t know if that is
true about me, but I am sure talking about the book and comedy will
be fun regardless of my abuse status.
Chat to you all in London.
Saturday the 4th of February 2006
01:05:34 AM
London Aberdeen and the Brit Awards….
So I went to Aberdeen, did the gig came back to
the tiny bed and breakfast that had more rules than Barlinnie High
Security prison. I stayed awake as I had a 6am flight to go to London
to take part in the Trisha Goddard Chat show on UK national TV in
UK.
The show was a one off special about child abuse, I was on to talk
about my book and my own past abuse as they wanted someone who was
a ‘survivor’ on the show and that was my role. I was so
very tired when I got on the plane at 6am. I sat beside a chatty
woman and I wanted to kill her “So what do you think of hardcore
fisting porn?” I asked her and she never spoke the rest of
the journey. That’s works every time.
I was so tired when I got off, but my hair was perfect as I had
spent the whole night fussing with it when I had nothing else to
do in Aberdeen. My driver was there to take me straight to the TV
studios, I got there, was welcomed in, got the make up girl in to
literally paste me in her entire collection of face colourings,
then got changed into the nice outfit I picked and then almost fell
asleep.
I was getting worried as the TV Company had not received my book
so I called my publisher and they biked one over, it came just in
time for the filming.
The show went up and there was a few women on talking
about their sexual abuse experiences, it was heart wrenching. I
then got my moment to talk about my life, my book and Trisha was
awesome. What a lovely woman.
So then I left the show and was whisked off to the amazing flat
in Westminster ( I will never stop bigging up these apartments and
will be in Dumase’s debt forever for her constant help, she
is the sassiest chick in London).
I promptly fell asleep at the flat and woke up to about fourteen
fucking annoying phone calls, but one was amazing I have been invited
to the VIP party of the BRIT awards, these are the UK’s premier
Music Awards….am so excited.
Maybe 50 cent will be there and ask me to marry him or at the very least casual sex?
Sunday the 5th of February 2006
01:57:50 AM
No Escaping The Nightmares….
I stayed up late last night as I couldn’t sleep
properly after having napped at 6pm –ish, so finally I went
to bed at 4am. I had a multiple horrific type nightmare. I got out
of bed in the dark, I didn’t know where I was, I banged my
knee off the bedstead and tried hard to familiarise myself with
the apartment. I rarely stay in the same one twice, so it’s
hard to recall where light switches and the layout of the place.
So I managed to get into the hall and my brain was
all fuggy, I was scared and confused as I desperately slid my hands
on the walls that surrounded me looking for light switches.
Finally my hand felt something metal on the wall
and I clicked it on, the light scorched my eyes, my brain was telling
me to go back into the bedroom to find my phone and check what time
it was as all the heavy drapes were pulled and I couldn’t tell
from the sky outside what time of day or night I was in. My heart
was pounding from the fear of the dream…nightmare dream to
be honest.
The marble floor in the bathroom was warm and I
remembered the under floor heating, but I was sweating and my hands
felt sticky, I looked at my outstretched palms and my eyes could
hardly take in what I was seeing, they were covered in blood…I
turned to run out of the bathroom but the floor slipped beneath
me and there standing in the hall was a man…I didn’t know
who he was, I tried to scream but he leapt in one movement and grabbed
my throat and held me down.
I saw his face as he got closer, I could see bits
of flesh hanging off and his blood dripped into my eyes and made
me blind. I tried to catch my breath and he took one fist and punched
me hard in the chest and I felt my lungs empty in one swift gasp.
I lay there and let the darkness swallow me and as my eyes cleared
I saw a wee girl sitting in the shower, her nightdress was familiar,
though I don’t know how, she was wet and shivering and begging
for me to help her, but I couldn’t, I did try to get up but
the man put his feet on my neck and reached over and grabbed the
wee girl out of the shower. As she was pulled past me, she stared
at me crying yet keeping eye contact and I recognised her…it
was me when I was small. I know her and I felt her fear as she passed
me.
I tried to shout at the man as he pulled her body
across the bathroom floor, she reached out her hand to me to pull
her back but my arms wouldn’t move and the man just stood her
up and dragged her nightdress over her head, she stood there naked
and I saw her skinny ribs on her back, she was covered in bruises
and then…she just walked with him into the bedroom and I lay
there shouting but nothing came out. I lay there and could hear
her screaming as he panted. Then I woke up.
One day this will stop and I will save her, maybe not today.
Monday the 6th of February 2006
03:56:20 AM
The Malcolm Hardee Tribute Show…
Tonight was just fucking great; there were at least 40 performers on in an extravaganza at the Hackney Empire in London. I had been groggy all day due to the nightmares, and this made me feel like shit, but I cheered up when I arrived.
My old mate Findlay and his friends were coming
and I was too tired to meet them beforehand and this annoyed me.
I got to the amazing old theatre at 8pm, the show
had just started and there were loads of huge stars that were friends
of the late great Malcolm milling around backstage, Jools Holland
and Glenn Tilbrook from his band Squeeze were there, Arthur Smith,
Boothby Graffoe, Jimmy Carr, Stewart Lee, Kevin Eldon, Brian Damage
and Krystal, that bloke from the Fast Show whose name escapes me,
Malcolm’s old mates from the Tunnel club and many more I cannot
clearly recall…it was so good to see so many people who loved
Malcolm turn up for his benefit gig.
I was horribly nervous as the night went on but seeing so many familiar
faces soon calmed me down. I was on so near the end, it was me,
then Johnny Vegas and then the infamous Balloon Dancers that Malcolm
had created many years ago and that was the close of the show.
I did hit the stage nervous as the crowd had been
very cruel and heckled all the way through poor Jimmy Carr’s
set, yet he pulled them back and made the best he could of a conflicted
audience.
I did talk too quick for the first 50 seconds, being
on that HUGE stage in front of that HUGE audience made me jitter,
but then I settled ok and enjoyed my stage time.
Then Johnny Vegas came on, he was already drunk and a bit shouty,
he didn’t really capture the crowd and then it all went downhill
on a bobsleigh, Johnny normally thrives on this kind of situation,
but he became incoherent and the crowd went for his throat. He rambled
on some more and then tried to get the crowd on its feet to honour
Malcolm, but people started leaving as they thought this was the
end….We were meanwhile all standing side stage and we knew
the balloon dancers had to go on, time was running out, the people
were heckling each other and Johnny became morose and mumbly.
One of the spectacular Can Can dancers who were on earlier tries
to distract him and lead him off but he was having none of it, so
the MC ran on and started to introduce the next act (the infamous
Balloon dance), just then I snuck on and twisted my hand round Johnny’s
jacket and quickly lead him off.
There was no other way to do it and the crowd were
getting so stroppy, he had been getting louder and drunker…it
really was time for him to get off.
The press were there in droves and I was worried
the show would fall apart, which to be honest would have been just
like a Malcolm type show anyway.
John Fleming who had put the whole thing together was amazing throughout
and I would like to take this opportunity to thank him for what
would have been a grotesque nightmare in the hands of any other
organiser, all those egos? All that alcohol? All those things that
can go wrong? He kept his cool and that is a testimony to his friendship,
Malcolm would have been chuffed.
Well done Mr Fleming…you pulled it off!
Tuesday the 7th of February 2006
09:39:48 PM
Well the Teeth are done…..
I didn’t sleep well last night, because my
husband woke me up at 3am…because he thought that would be
a good idea. Despite me telling him I never slept well in London,
despite me explaining how I hadn’t had a decent night’s
kip in days, he thought a 3am booty call was cool. We still aren’t
talking; I am scared to look at him lest I stab him! Lovely!
So I stayed up till 6am calling New Zealand and checking details
of the tour and stuff. I did go back to bed and fell into a scary
sleep that fucked me up a bit and at 3pm I had a dental appointment,
the final treatment to get my new veneers fitted. I lay there tired
and grumpy as the poor man tiled my mouth for me.
The job was done, so I went into the reception to
pay. My credit card bounced! Maybe the dentist would have to take
the veneers back off as I hadn’t paid. I started to call the
credit card company and then my phone started ringing, I had BBC
radio, BBC TV and gigs all being booked right there in the dental
receptionist desk, she started taking notes for me. I still hadn’t
paid the fee, there seems to be a problem with my card and a payment
that didn’t go through, so I whipped out another card and paid
my bill.
I have no idea what has happened with my card, but I am sure it
will be fine.
I am booked for 60 acts in 60 minutes next week in Manchester, it’s
a cool BBC show and I am chuffed to be on it. I just need to organise
my life and get everything done and sometimes it gets all on top
pf me and I lie awake panicking that I have forgot something.
My poor daughter Ashley had been vomiting all night and throwing
up all day, I feel so bad for her, she has some food poisoning.
There is nothing worse watching your own child being that sick,
I would do anything to take it off her and let her be safe and well.
I am sure she will be fine.
I will post a final picture of my teeth as soon
as my laptop lets me download them.
Husband will never wake me up again; I will actually kill him if
he does!
Thursday the 9th of February 2006
07:53:58 PM
Am in Leeds…
I have been so bloody busy, I have had not one minute
to blog, but finally am here in Leeds. I am staying at the K-Space
apartments as I detest hotels now; I have had my fill of them. Serviced
apartments are the way to go, this wee solo flat is cool. As usual
I am staying around a building site (everywhere I go in England
its being developed!) but the flat is nice…really helpful guy
called Steven met us and greeted us…makes a difference.
The new teeth are nice, I am still not used to having a full straight
smile of white teeth and I can’t stop staring at them! Now
I have noticed my wrinkles, double chin and may have to get plastic
surgery to make me look pretty! I am JOKING!
I read with horror Madonna’s article in Elle
magazine, she says “I don’t like being this skinny, but
all the men I have dated including my husband Guy like me very thin,
so I starve myself to look how he desires me, I prefer a bit of
meat on me, but Guy hates it”
Well, there we are, well done Madonna…I am
sure even your kabala people will love that you starve yourself
in case you are not loved. Surely if her religion is that strong
to her soul, she would not give a flying fuck what a mere mortal
thought of her body and she would have the religious security in
herself to be who she wants to be….
I can just imagine loads of young women reading
that article and reinforcing this current trend we have for young
females risking their own well being to stay dangerously thin.
You only have to look at Victoria Beckham to see
how far this trend has entrenched itself in the 21st century, the
irony is, despite Victoria starving herself, her husband fucks other
woman. There is a lesson there for us all ladies!
Eat cake –get laid.
Saturday the 11th of February 2006
03:26:15 PM
Leeds and laptop problems…
I am sorry it has been a few days since my last
blog, the laptop went a bit slow and it needed a clean out.
The shows are going great, I love being up there
on stage doing my stuff.
Have been really inspired with comedy again after
doing the workshops with kids lately, they are so honest and funny.
Every week, I take 14 teenagers on a comedy workshop; I want them
to gain confidence and fun from comedy. Some of those kids are so
fucking funny when they get up, I see them just throwing themselves
into it full tilt and I love it.
The improve exercises get them into the groove and
they really do show a great interest in performing; some of the
one liners they come out with are hysterical.
So I am still in Leeds, I went shopping yesterday for a decent outfit
to wear to the Brit Awards night. Now those who know me know that
I am small, quite chubby (less now since I have stopped eating rubbish)
but my boobs are huge for a small person like me 36DD.
So I stand in the designer store looking at fabrics colours and
then am approached by the skinniest, nubile gay-est man in the world
“Can I help you?” He asked. So I explained that
I needed an outfit and he escorted me over to a range of clothing
that would never have even fitted around my fucking wrist…I
am not joking…these clothes were for some eleven year old girl
who looked like a seven year old boy…to be precise.
I looked the shop assistant in the eye and then pointed to my two
huge Scottish globes and said “Do you honestly know what I
am pointing at? These are tits, and they are huge, there is nothing
in that range that accommodates my tits, do you have clothes for
women here or is everything for women who date men who like their
women to look like children? Did Gary Glitter design these clothes?
Did Michael Jackson help him out?”
The lovely wee gay dude burst out laughing and we literally held
onto each other pissing ourselves giggling, he then started to try
to stretch some of the tiny clothes across my boobs; this went on
until people started commenting and we stopped. I never got an outfit,
but I have a new screaming queen gay pal.
I have nothing to wear, but who cares, its not as if I dress up
better and Kanye West will want me, I already have a man who wants
me, ok he is not famous or a black rap artist, but he does go to
the chemist to get me tampax…cant see 50 cent doing that can
you?
Sunday the 12th of February 2006
06:15:06 PM
Missing my Home and trying to Kill my Husband…
I am a nasty whore lately, we are staying in this
wee serviced flat and everything is so small and close. The flat
is great don’t get me wrong but small ‘see through’
plastic tables that are knee high and my big clumsy husband do not
a partnership make.
He is making me mental, we are not used to being stuck together
in such a small space, I climbed into bed, I had to go from the
bottom and climb up as there is no real space at the sides and as
I climbed I accidentally put my pillow on his face as he slept and
he screamed thinking I was trying to suffocate him, I wasn’t
then but now I might.
The flat is cool, the advantages out weigh the cons as we have a
full kitchen and good TV service and Free internet!
I cant wait to see Ashley, she called last night and told me at
her Karaoke night she hosts there was a big mental man with a big
cut on his head trying to sing “Who’s Sorry Now”
she made me laugh telling me the whole scene, step by step….thank
God she has his height, looks, brown eyes, good hair yet my DNA!
Well I have to apologise to my bloggers who normally receive a ‘February
Newsletter’. My pc has been screwed and I haven’t had
time to get it done. Sorry!
I was appalled to see in our National press, British soldiers attacking
some Iraq’ youths, this is fucking terrifying and morally awful…who
wants to be the parents of these young men? Who fucked them up so
far that they attack helpless people in such a degrading manner?
War makes people mental but it shouldn’t make them violent
to that extent, we can’t become animals in the face of an enemy.
I am also annoyed at the whole ‘Drawings of Mohammed’
situation sparked off in Denmark. I am a stand up comic and I reserve
the right to take the piss out of anything I see fit. On stage I
laugh at Catholics, protestants and Jewish people, the audience
laugh…but when I say the word ‘Muslim’ they all go
squeamish and nervously quiet…surely its ok to talk about every
religion? Surely leaving out the Muslims that’s a form of discrimination?
It turns out that photo copies of Mohammed dressed
up as a paedophile were passed around extremist groups, when the
Danish press were confronted by these images they were horrified
as they NEVER drew those cartoons. It was extremist groups that
drew them themselves and admitted this saying “This is what
they would look like if you had drawn them”
That’s fucking outrageous! It was done to incite
more hatred!
The world is mental.
I have one more gig tonight at Leeds Jongleurs and tomorrow I drive
through to Manchester to take part in the BBC Radio 4 show ’60
acts in 60 Minutes’, then I go home for one night and fly out
to London on Wednesday to go to party season central! Brits and
Bafta’s in one week? I am a society IT girl….well tit
girl to be honest!
Monday the 13th of February 2006
06:58:10 PM
Am Stressed and British Airways gets all my cash…
I am now in Manchester, the drive from Leeds was
easy. Just as I have my whole diary worked out, everything is thrown
into disarray. I am going home tomorrow to do a workshop with the
kids then on Wednesday I fly to London at Midday so I can attend
the Brits party and I would be staying in London till Monday so
I can attend the BAFTA awards on Sunday. Then I get a phone call
from BBC wanting me to attend an audition in GLASGOW on Thursday!
I cannot possibly fly to London then fly home and
fly back! That’s madness and BA already get the lions share
of my cash as it is!
Luckily, BBC have arranged for me to get the audition
in London on Wednesday morning at 11-30am. So I am flying out of
Glasgow at 6am instead!
I am so fucking stressed trying to organise my life,
I don’t know if I actually live in London now.
Husband was annoying me trying to talk over my phone
calls and that made me mental, he doesn’t understand that whilst
I am trying to make adjustments to my diary I am not interested
in how many towels are in this hotel room. At least there are no
‘see through’ stacking tables in this room as his aspergic
brain just couldn’t comprehend the wee tables in that flat
in Leeds, “If I cant see them, then they do not exist”
is his thinking.
So I am off to learn a whole script before Wednesday
and now go off to record a show for BBC radio four….my head
is going to explode, yet husband has just asked me “Do you
fancy a wee kiss and hug before you go?”
If I kill him you are all my witnesses.
Tuesday the 14th of February 2006
09:07:33 PM
Car Crash
We just left Manchester hotel, I decided that being
so shattered I would lie down in the back and sleep all the way
home. So I propped a pillow in the back seat, made a wee cosy bed,
strapped on my seat belt and snuggled down. I was tense, yet tired;
I hate trying to sleep in the car and made an effort to relax. I
was listening to radio 4, there was a guy on saying the worse stress
he ever suffered was when his car crashed and he looked at the shock
on his wife’s face and I wondered how my husband would react
in that situation. I could feel the engine purr along, the car stop
and start through city traffic and then…BANG, I was thrown
forward, my head hit the driver’s seat and then I slumped back,
glass shattered all over me and I sat straight up to see a bus behind
us all mangled at the front….a fucking big bus!
Husband had stopped at the entrance to a roundabout to check for
on coming traffic (as you do, ramming onto a roundabout without
checking is known as suicide) there were traffic lights in the approach
to the roundabout, maybe three bus lengths behind the entrance onto
the actual roundabout. The bus saw them as green…looked right
to check for traffic as he came up to the roundabout…strangely
enough he never looked in front of himself and crashed straight
into our stationery vehicle!
The bus was busy with passengers, I jumped out of the car and my
head was numb with the bang it got, I checked myself for any cuts
and watched husband walk over to the bus man who shouted “You
were stopped there on the line and those lights back there were
green, so this is your fault”
Husband looked at him and walked away and came over
to check if I was ok, as he came near, bus driver came with him
“You must be in shock mister bus driver, to assume that you
can crash into stationery vehicles and be annoyed that they were
in your way is just nuts” I spoke quietly.
Our insurance people quickly assured us that we are in the right,
the roundabout was indeed not governed by any lights and in any
case if it were and we had stopped at a green light and were stationery
as the bus approached (as we were) then it’s the bus drivers
fault for not looking in front of himself. That did not stop the
panic and shock settling in.
I had a 5am rise tomorrow, a BBC drama audition,
a party to attend and a flight to make…WHY ME?
We drove home in a back windowless car, it rained inside the car,
which was an experience…we were shocked and shattered but above
all safe. I will post a pic or a link to it here soon as possible.
Friday the 17th of February 2006
10:44:39 AM
The Brits and Naked girls…
I have had the most horrible couple of days. After the car crash, I had to stay up to 5am to get to the airport in the hope British Airways would let me on the first flight. I did this on the advice of their call centre staff, when I got there the staff did give me a stand by ticket, then a really angry supervisor decided that I wasn’t getting the ‘free’ upgrade to an earlier flight and made me buy a new ticket. I did this as I had an audition with BBC at 11.30am, I did explain to her I was acting on advice from BA staff but she stood there all angry and mental and said I was “immoral asking the ‘girls’ on the desk for an early ticket as this is impossible” I was about to tell her about how sitting in a BA plane for three hours on the tarmac after getting me out of bed at 4am for a 7am flight that never took off till 11am last December was fucking evil, never mind immoral, but I saw she was one of those women who will always be right, even in the face of wrongness…poor cow.
But I am going to write and complain to her boss,
when I get home.
So anyway, there I was flying into London early
and got straight to the apartment in time for a change of clothes
and coffee. I made it to the BBC centre in time and the audition
passed very quickly, I think I did the best I could. This part is
for a Scottish drama and the good thing is, IF I get this part I
get to ride a ‘Penny Farthing Bicycle’ how cool is that?
I dashed off back to the flat to get ready for the
Brits party; I took ages with my hair and make up as I did want
to look nice. Finally I met up with Emma, my publicist from Ebury
Press. We got through the whole ‘red carpet’ door scenario
and walked downstairs at the Astor which used to be the Atlantic
Bar, where I used to run a comedy club in 2001.
I love the old Art Deco bar, it really does remind
you of a bygone era, all original Art Deco fittings, marble pillars,
ornate ceiling, huge chandelier…it looks like the interior
of the Titanic!
Anyway on the floor at the entrance to the main
bar was a huge projection of a swimming pool complete with huge
big Koi Carp dashing about…it was scary to step on, my brain
knew it was a silver screen on the floor with a digital projector
but my eyes kept dashing around trying to make sense of the image
as I literally walked on water…and fish!
We got seated and then in came a horde of very near
naked girls…I have to tell you how funny this was…one
girl was small and very skinny but with HUGE un-natural globe like
fake breasts, the nipples of which were poking though a fluorescent
pink string vest she was wearing (she had no bra of course), all
she had on underneath the pink string vest was a pink tiny g-string,
her hair was that extreme white blonde and she looked like she had
just opened her make up bag and shook it over her face!
She was surrounded by equally near naked girls who
almost all looked the same, g-strings, big hair burst make up bag
affliction…
As I went to the loo…pink fluorescent girl
was lying on the swimming pool effect flooring, the digital fish
swam everywhere as the blue water shimmered on the screen, she laughed
with photographers around her, she then spread her legs wide and
at that very moment I said loudly “I don’t know if you
know but as you opened you legs a big animated fish swam into your
vagina!”
The photographers laughed loudly and pink girl looked
at me annoyed and sniggered “Well old woman, are you lying
down here getting YOUR picture taken?”
I looked at her from a strange angle and then walked
round to see her face and I replied “No, I am not because I
managed to get an education, not a very good one to be honest but
one that will ensure I never have let fish swim up my vag in front
of strange men!”
Again people laughed and I then felt desperately
sorry for her, I was annoyed at taking the piss out if her as she
really believes she is doing what empowers her and maybe it does,
I just don’t agree with it and I shouldn’t mock her for
choosing that life…who am I to judge?
Now the whole room was heaving with minor and major
stars of the music business, young men stared at the semi naked
pouting girls for a short while, the pouting girls were now kissing
each other, maybe for two reasons…
1) They were disappointed in the men
there
2) If they pretended to be lesbians
the men would want them more…
Anyway as I watched the men watching the women, the actually became
strangely immune to them and after a while women who were dressed
actually became objects of curiosity! I had four young guys come
over to chat to me as they assumed that as I was older and had clothes
on I must be influential in the music business, the pushed the sexy
girls out of the way to sit beside me and were pretty annoyed to
find out I was just a stand up comic/writer.
It was a funny night and yet good fun, I saw loads of famous people,
who largely sat by themselves or with their minders and chatted
intently, as the near naked girls giggled and chattered like wee
gaudily dressed sparrows on the fringes of the room.
Lets hope they had fun!
Sunday the 19th of February 2006
01:56:36 AM
Groucho Club and fun…
Well I have finally broken my ‘I don’t drink’ statement,
ok let me make this very clear, I choose not to drink alcohol as
I don’t like being that drunk feeling BUT Monica and I went
for a night out to the famous Groucho club in London. It’s
an exclusive private club that is mainly attended by the TV, media
and film people.
I love it there and the place is really nice to hang out in, no
mad London tourists, no crazy buskers or half naked girls trying
to fuck a footballer, just nice interesting people who like nice
places….and to network.
So I decided (why?) to have a gin and tonic, an occasional drink
is cool for me and I like to have one now and again, but after four
gin and tonics, I was giggly. Which didn’t seem to bother me,
but I felt a wee bit dizzy….anyway we chatted with Jude Law,
Ben Chaplin and a few other famous actors who either Monica or I
knew through our work connections, she was having a natter to a
couple of journalists also. So the company was good, the drinks
flowed and I staggered slightly for the first time in years…Monica
laughed her ass off at me, she is a bitch!
We had a great time and the guys famous or not were great form and
you do forget that you are chatting to really popular people and
end up talking about mundane stuff and sharing wee stories. I decided
enough was enough and I needed to go home, not until I hit the fresh
air did I feel the full effect of the alcohol and getting a taxi
was a fucking nightmare, but we made it and I finally got to bed
and just lay there watching the ceiling spin.
Ok Jude Law would have made that a more exciting time…but alas…I am married and he is not really into dating older married fat women…
Tuesday the 21st of February 2006
12:03:28 AM
My London Trip summed up….
So here I am back in Glasgow, my blogs have been very sporadic due to the nature of my life and laptop, so here we are then…the full story.
I had a really mental week to be coping with and
after the car crash, the early flight where BA totally screwed me
around at 5am, to the dash to the BBC in Television centre to do
an audition with a script that I had only been given the day before,
I was stunned that I actually managed to speak English and got through
the audition no problem! Trust me my brain was fried.
To make matters worse the cab driver who took me to my flat turns
out to be the ex husband of a TV star, he is Italian and around
50 years of age and spent the whole journey telling me what a slut
his actress ex wife was. This man was obnoxious and I sat there
as he told me how many men she fucked, how she drank too much and
what a bitch she was until I finally snapped and said “Maybe
you drove her to all that with your constant whingeing, I personally
feel like fucking strangers just to get away from you, please drive
the car and stop disrespecting women and keep your opinions to yourself”
Getting to the flat was a relief.
The flat is great as always, I love the people at Crown Lawn who
always look after me and they are the one solid thing and security
I have in London! The internet connection is spot on, and the place
is always immaculately clean.
Going to the After show party at the Brits was exciting, though
as explained before the amount of near naked girls was slightly
disturbing. At least the BAFTA’s are always guaranteed to be
classy.
I have to add that my nights at the Groucho club
were just spectacular; I took a couple of copies of my autobiography
for the staff there who had requested them. Meeting Jude Law (who
I had met previously) and the charming Ben Chaplin was a nice experience.
They were both really nice guys to have a chat with.
The night of the BAFTA’s was such a trauma; firstly I was so
excited about seeing the article in the Sunday Times
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2099-2034191,00.html
I was very happy with the way the magazine dealt with Ashley and
I, the Sunday Times are very good at their job.
So there I was all hyper and I laid out all my clothes to get prepared
for my big night. I decided to do a new hairdo, I decided I would
blow dry my hair straight and then put in a collection of rollers
around the ends of my hair to give it a wee wavy look…well
that was the idea, turns out that half the fucking nasty wee evil
rollers got tangled into my wiry bushy hair and had to be physically
ripped out, taking half my scalp with it! I looked like an owl that
had been through 40 minutes in a dry cycle of a tumble dryer and
I only had 20 minutes to go before the taxi picked us up!
So I had to stand naked in front of the mirror (
I cant blow dry fully clothed it would make me sweat to death) and
fix the ends of my hair and then rush back on all of my clothes.
Just then I realised I couldn’t find my sexy necklace…so
in a blind panic I ripped everything out of the wardrobe, scattered
all my stuff out of my case and finally found the damn thing. I
stood up, all sweaty, hair all bushy (again) and finally put on
my necklace, the taxi arrived and Monica and I were off.
London was dark and very rainy, I envisioned squelching down the
red carpet with brolly ends poked into my skull…well my scalp
was already numb from the roller ripping event.
The taxi was caught in heavy traffic, we started to panic as we approached Leicester Square and encountered traffic works that prevented us from getting into the square. Time was crucially ticking away, we had to be in by 6pm or they close the doors.
All the big stars had already been down the red
carpet, I know this as Ashley was keeping me updated by phone. Finally
the car made it into the square after the police showed the driver
where to go and we were literally the last to get there, we found
out later.
We got out of the car, a huge guy offered us a brolly
and off we went. The sides of the red carpet were rammed with hundreds
of photographers all screaming and shouting at the few stars who
were still promenading down the entrance to the cinema that was
the venue for the awards.
The rain squelched as I predicted beneath my leather stiletto’s,
the ground was slippy and I realised with horror that we have to
actually climb a set of Perspex stairs and get up onto a huge transparent
platform made of illuminated glass and walk to the other side down
more steps taking us into the main door. This arrangement was daunting,
more so as every step of the way had hundreds of photographers and
fans all watching ever move.
My heart almost stopped as the minute I put foot
onto the glass walkway my feet skated….fuck- I was going to
fall on my well dressed, bushy haired ass in front of the world’s
media.
I felt the brolly being carried by Monica jag into my head; I walked
slowly and yet elegantly all the while breathing slowly, as I managed
to get to the other side I saw Heath Ledger being interviewed on
the carpet down the five ominous steps now facing me.
I took the first step and managed it, the second
step and gained confidence, the third and fourth step were slippy
and the final step caught me out. It was shorter than the rest and
wetter, my heart lurched, I stumbled, I saw the bank of photographers
at a slightly skewed angle as my body fell forward, my knee buckled
and my body weight was heaving forward and then by some amazing
luck and skill I actually recovered….I never hit the floor
and landed in a puddle behind Heath Ledger…I heard a few of
the photographers laugh loudly, some gasped… but I made it.
I saw the smartly dressed staff in front of me,
egging me on to get to the door without falling over, like parents
encouraging their wee kids to the final line of the egg and spoon
race.
I was upright and marching home to the big glass
doors and safety. They practically hugged me as I got there! A big
man in a dinner suit reached out his arms and helped me get over
a wet patch on the carpet and led me in from the rain and horror
of that near ass fall!
I was home and dry…thank God. We rushed up to our seats and
found the show actually starting! Fucking how late were we? I was
staggered at the amount of people and the seats were the furthest
away up the back and right against the side, it was like sitting
on a cheap airline seat in a posh frock! What crap seats…we
could not even see the stage! Monica and I were crushed and damp
and annoyed at the horrid seating.
I decided it would be easier to just get back out
of the seat and stand in aisle up the back and watch the show. So
I did.
The show was long and I missed some of it as I went outside into
the foyer and sat on a big comfy chair and watched it on a monitor,
which was all I was doing inside the auditorium, but in a tiny chair.
The show finally finished and we got a car to take us to the ball
at the Grosvenor Hotel. As we were walking down the stairs, Jake
Gyllenhall was standing alongside us, clutching his gloriously gold
BAFTA award.
A lady beside me asked him “Can I touch it?”
Jake smiled and held it to her to touch; we all
slowly kept making our way slowly on the stairs.
He smiled at me and I said “Can I stroke it?”
He politely held it to me and I added quickly “No…not
that!” and he laughed out loudly and people around us laughed.
He then opened his expensive black jacket and said “Help yourself”
So I stood there and giggled as I stroked his very toned chest! He then lifted up the back of his jacket and grabbed my hand and put it on his ass and added “You want some of this!” I kept laughing, his smile was huge and he obviously has a good sense of humour.
I told him I was a stand up comic and he answered
“I love stand up, wow what’s your name?” We chatted
a bit more and then reached the ground floor entrance to the ball.
What a guy, we then posed for a picture. I was well
happy!
You can see the photo’s on
http://janeygodley.bravehost.com/myPictures/me+and+jake.jpg
http://janeygodley.bravehost.com/myPictures/me+and+Mr+Clooney.jpg
As you can see I also managed to have a good chat and photo with
George Clooney…albeit in the gents toilets…well that’s
another story!
Thursday the 23rd of February 2006
12:44:23 AM
Stress and more stress…
I am slightly overwhelmed at life just now, not
only am I trying to book flights to NZ, trying to secure venues
for Edinburgh, trying to rehearse my play for next week AND try
to be me for a few days and all I can do is sleep.
I love doing the comedy workshops for kids in Drumchapel,
it really is so rewarding. Those wee teenagers really throw themselves
into the improv exercises and take part in every scenario we give
them. I will miss them when it all ends.
I feel ragged and tired and can’t seem to get
on top of everything at home, the ironing has come to resemble Mount
Killimonjaro and the windows have so much dirt on them I think a
dense fog has landed on Glasgow ever single morning when I try to
look out into the street.
So tonight I am going to bed early to sleep more and try to be rejuvenated for tomorrow.
Friday the 24th of February 2006
09:38:31 PM
New Laptop and Sexy Men…
Well, here I am on my new laptop, after all the
shit of broken pc; I went out today and bought a new one. It took
hours to load it all up so am sorry I have been away for a few days,
not my fault…pc problems!
I am off tomorrow to Newcastle, I am doing workshop
thing during the day for Aspergers Syndrome help group, as my husband
has Aspergers, and boy is that fun?
So I have been exasperated by the antics of my main
home computer, it broke six weeks ago and now they STILL haven’t
fixed it, so much for PC services, they are about as fucking useful
as blind window washers; I hope they all fall into the sea with
the stress they have caused me.
My new teeth are still looking good and one unexpected
bonus is that I can no longer bite my nails as they will snap my
veneers – so for the first time in my life I actually have
nails. It feels so very weird and I am scratching everyone and everything
as I go about my daily business.
I did get an apology from British Airways, they
sent me a bog standard letter of sorry-ness, which to be honest
will never make up for the nasty way I was treated by that angry
woman at 5am in Glasgow who is the supervisor called Lillian…God
knows she must need a hug after the way she behaved. I will NEVER
fly BA again and would urge everyone who gets treated badly to complain
and vote with your cash. I did tell the customer services woman
(who was very nice) that I will be putting it on my blog which gets
LOADS of hits daily…so I did it!
Mind you I have had a great week, what with hob
nobbing with Mr Clooney and Jake Gylenhall… who am I to complain
about anything?
Oh News just in…recent pictures in the press
reveal that Kiera Knightley’s new boyfriend is her co-star
from Pride and Prejudice –‘Rupert Friend’.
In Edinburgh fringe 2002, Rupert was starring in
a play called ‘Kassandra’ with a cool crew of actors,
Rupert was lovely and we became mates, in fact on my daughters bedroom
wall is a picture of Rupert dressed in US Marine clothes holding
me on stage as he carried me off after my last night show…he
is gorgeous! I had him first Kiera!
Sunday the 26th of February 2006
09:48:17 PM
Newcastle and people…
I was nervous about being in the car and being driven
a distance, but I was ok in the end. I need to get over the car
crash and get on with my life. I had an odd gig in Newcastle, I
addressed a group of Aspergers sufferers and their partners, my
husband has mild Aspergers syndrome and talking about my experiences
was actually good. The people their apparently enjoyed the talk
as well and I got to answer some questions about my relationship
living with a man.
Then I went to the Literature and Philosophy Library
to take part in a panel discussing ‘Comedy-what’s the
Point?’ that was really interesting to hear peoples view on
what they thought of live comedy. Later on we did a comedy gig in
the library and that was awesome…being surrounded by all that
history and architecture, millions of books and huge paintings getting
to tell jokes and share funny stories…really odd space to work
in.
There was a huge leather topped table, so I just
climbed onto it, sat down and chatted with the microphone.
There were a few philosophers in the crowd and we
had a bit of a banter…which was really good.
I love my job and need to stop worrying and being
stressed, husband gave me a big talking to about my constant fretting,
he made me sit down and go through my diary and helped me book five
train and three flight journeys, helped me organise my diary and
told me to share the problems more and stop shutting everyone out
to deal with things myself.
I have resolved to share my work load and get into problems that get me down and in future, make sure that stuff that is worrying me will be talked about…maybe it was me who had Aspergers and not him?
Tuesday the 28th of February 2006
09:22:51 PM
I have been a big Fat Whinger!
I recently read my blog and noticed all I have done
is moan and that’s not good. I need to get out of my scary
mood and carry on being informative and funny. Neither of which
is easy when you are tired.
So I thought I would tell you a funny story about
what happened on the way to the shops today.
I needed a newspaper and some bread and happily
walked to the local shops, my hair was being its usual ‘Scarecrow
backcombed on acid, possibly restyled by a crack whore who is blind’
look. My favourite look I may add. So as I crossed the road, all
my hair and I do mean the whole of my hairy head whipped in front
of my face and made me totally blind for a few seconds. In these
few seconds I almost got hit by a motorbike.
The biker screeched to a halt and then got off his
bike, ripped off his hood and guess who it was?
Yes, it was an angry biker! A man who was pissed
off that I almost killed myself beneath his very safely driven wheels
stood and shouted at me.
“What are you thinking of? I almost belted
you across the tarmac you mad whore?” he screamed as small
Asian men laughed at me as they were coming out of the Mosque across
from my home.
“I am sorry my hair got in my eyes” I
mumbled.
“What is wrong with your hair? Its needs to
be tied back if you can’t control it, I use a hair band and
some good firm gel” he answered back.
So there I was getting hair tips from an angry biker,
who nearly killed me, and he did actually have good controlled hair,
it was all sleek and tied back.
“I hate it tied back, it makes me look severe
and old” Was all I could say back.
“Well you could just tie it back at the top
and leave the rest down” He added.
How fucking surreal was my day? He was right, I
either look severe or dead on the Glasgow streets….what can
I say.
He said his goodbyes, gave me some more hair tips
and roared off on his bike.
Today I have stopped moaning about my transient
lifestyle and get on with my job and life.
A near death experience and seriously good hair advice.