Living the Dream! With Footnotes
Last night's play stuff was tricky, but fun and pretty energetic in parts. I went to bed knackered.
Today, I've got the challenge of a comedy gig at my regular venue, which likes to spring odd things on us occasionally, such as zombie film screenings or Morris dancing (the latter made one comedian actually run away once. Some people have a phobia of bells and hankies, what can I say?). The gig marks the beginning of what they are dubbing 'Sausageciderfest', so not only will there be oodles of my danger beverage available, but the place will be awaft with delicious sausagey smells.
I emcee and the important thing is to get the audience to relax and get the right kind of atmosphere going to appreciate the other acts and give them the best chance to do well with what is largely new stuff. Daunting? No - my gig is special and lovely and peculiar in so many ways. I love it!
For research I've been looking at my 1987 diaries, in which I moan about being ill a lot, am constantly smug about being cleverer than everyone else, write down my dreams (which are about wanting to be loved) and every fortnight refuse to buy Smash Hits because my name isn't in it again. Was I Morrissey?
This is September 25th:
I went to the doctors this morning about my facial problem, so he gave me some Quinoderm cream.
Andrew B was a pain again in Physics, as he kept kicking me, so I kicked him back. He looked at me snootily, so I looked snootily at him. Later, I went with Clare to the library to find books on early Christian living and stone age dietary habits. (1)I dreampt last night that it was a few years in the future. I was old enough to buy alcohol(2) and rich enough to afford hotel accommodation(3) frequently(4). I met a lad who was a Marillion fan and he gave me a book. It was entitled Misplaced Childhood(5) and on its front cover it had a lad looking backward(6). The book was a few years old. The Future (7).
I also lived in this big house with French windows in my bedroom leading onto a balcony (posh place). My rooms were littered with music centres(8), and tapes of songs I have never heard of (quite good actually). Mom and Dad frequented restaurants often. Dad won't lose much more hair, just a bit more grey. I'm young and everyone around me is young. I'm famous(9). My dream tells me I'm going to be successful!
1 - I'm not sure if I was equating the two things there.
2 - like I was gonna wait, hey? Actually... I did.
3 - Gotta love Late Rooms.
4 - making myself sound like an escort...
5 - Ah, now is this an unimaginative recycling of one of their actual album titles or just a statement on my life?
6 - Cross-eyed? Saliva on chin?
7- Wooo!
8 - I am clearly some sort of hoarder.
9 - Mmm. I haven't established what I'm famous for... However, earlier in the diary, I have stated that I am 'famous' because I was on Midland News in the crowd behind the reporter at the NEC Motor Show, and I walked round with my carrier bag for weeks so that people could 'recognise me' from off the telly. So it may seem ambitious, but I'd already set the bar quite low. Although, someone did mention me on Stafford FM last week!
So, my dream future was to live in a tip with a Marillion fan. And who knows, maybe if cameras sweep the streets filming torsos whilst filming news articles on unhealthy living, I still have a shot at a modicum of fame. Ladies and gentlemen - I am living the dream!
Crossposted from Weightwatchers: http://community.weightwatchers.co.uk/Blogs/ViewPost.aspx?threadID=1114984