One Man, Two Guvnors..

I love the theatre and I’m not a great reviewer. I can tell you if I enjoyed something, I can tell you if the actor was good. I don’t read plays and I can’t talk at length about this stuff.

That said, if you are in or near London anytime soon, you should go and see One Man, Two Guvnors, it’s sold out at the National Theatre, but it’s transferring to the Adelphi in November.

It was so much fun, the musical intervals were fantastic. James Corden was brilliant (and he must have been exhausted at the end of the play!), the cast really did look like they were having a blast. I think farce is probably harder for actors than melodrama to get right and they got this right.

Really if you can, go and see this.

 

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Sunday Music

Dinner with Sarah this week.

Sarah and Ryan are two of my favourite people.  I heard this again the other day and was transported back to a time when Sarah was married to John, I lived with Craig, Ryan was little and there was a tape and this song, House of Bamboo was on it, it seemed to get played a lot.

John and Sarah are divorced and Craig is long gone from my life but I hear this song it makes me think of far away times,  even though I wouldn’t swap them for being were I am now.

While we’re thinking about Andy Williams, this one…

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Respect..

After the riots of this week, I’ve been hearing a lot about respect, parenting and the lack thereof. My Facebook feed has been full of people calling for the army, water cannons, rubber bullets to be used against what has variously been labelled as ‘scum’, ‘underclass’, ‘chavs’ and so on and so forth..

There have been calls for benefit to be removed, people participating should be evicted if they live in social housing…and so on..

People far more articulate and knowledgeable than me have written some interesting stuff on this..

Camilla Batmanghelidjh wrote about it in the Independent

My personal favourite was this from Nathaniel Tapley

This from Laurie Penny

Alan pointed me to this today

Russel Brand wrote this in the Guardian today

I keep thinking about the Job Centre. (I know it’s difficult to follow the logic but I’ll get there eventually). You see, I had to sign on at the end of July. To start the process you need to call them. So I did and I called and I called. After a morning of this, I applied online, a long application form took me about 45 minutes but no matter, I’m IT literate and I have broadband at home (for the minute!).  An auto reply said someone would contact me within 2 days hours. This was Monday, I figured that sometime on Wednesday, I’d get a call. On Thurday morning, I got the call, they had an appointment for me to attend the Job Centre, on the next Monday at 8.30am. She gave me a list of things that I needed to bring to the interview and I was all set.

At 8.30am on Monday 25th July, the job centre wasn’t open. A group of us stood and waited. At 8.40am they opened the doors. At no point during the time I was there, did anyone attempt to apologise or explain why they were late opening the doors.

At 8.45am – ish, a lady starts to talk to us about the packs we have been given. She tells us that we can have 14 days a year off from job seeking but we can’t go abroad, that we must attend every 2 weeks to sign on or we could lose our benefit, that if we have an interview and that is the reason we can’t attend, we must call them and let them know, that we will have an appointment today and sign a job seekers agreement, that if we don’t keep to this agreement we will loose our benefit, at no point does she introduce herself and the ‘presentation’ is all over the place and hard to understand because her English isn’t that good.

After this we go to have the interview and make the job seekers agreement. I wait 30 minutes before I am seen. We talk about my skills, she looks at my CV, etc. My next signing on appointment will be in 2 weeks at 10.40am. I’m told it’s on the 2nd floor and given a cycle letter.  That’s it.

2 weeks time. I arrive at 10.35am, I was at my Mum’s the night before, so I go straight there, I have a coffee in my hand, I’m told that I can’t take my coffee in as I might commit violence against the staff with it. Ok that’s a fair point, until I notice the cups of tea and coffee that the staff have on their desks – what’s to stop me committing violence with their tea and coffee. There’s a big sign saying ‘No mobile phones’, my book is on my phone, so I switch it to airplane mode and start reading. “No” says the security guard,

“But it’s on airplane, I can’t make any calls with it”

“No mobile phones allowed” he repeats.

It’s nearly 10.40am, it won’t be long until I see someone. At 11.05am, I hear someone saying, what sounds like my name…”Ms Demps, Ms Demosay”, I figure it’s me they’re calling and I get up but I can’t see anyone calling my name. That would be because they are around the corner and sitting down. I get there and say hello, I sit down, I say “it’s Dempsey, my name”

“Oh” says the man, who didn’t stand up, didn’t apologise for the 25 minute wait, is wearing a sweatshirt, “Where’s your job search booklet?”

I hand him the booklet I have to fill in to document what I have done to find work. He reads it, signs it hands it back to me, gets me to sign something and tells me I can go. I haven’t had a letter from anyone confirming I’m going to get any money, does he know what’s going on with that? No he doesn’t, call this number downstairs.

I think about respect, I have worked since I was 19. I lost my job because a director of the company I worked at, didn’t pay tax preferring to gamble it away.  I was unemployed for 9 months. The next job was a temporary contract and when that ended, I tried to temp but it’s not regular or enough money to pay my rent (I live in London, it’s lovely but expensive) and there are no holidays, sick pay or benefits. I’m not signing on because it’s easy or fun, I’m signing on because I like eat occasionally!

If I call up my bank, the person answering tells me their name, if I’ve been waiting in a shop to be served, the server normally apologises for the delay, in the job centre you aren’t treated like you’re worthy of any kind of courtesy and don’t even get me started on trying to understand Housing Benefit.

When I was about 10, I decided that no-one should come into my room without knocking. That was fair enough said my parents, but that being the case I needed to apply the same rules to them and my brother. If I was going to demand that my privacy be respected, I had to afford the same respect to other in my family.

Were the rioters criminal? Yes.

Stupid? Yes (and as my mother has been pointing out, this is England, they’re called the Police – you can call them coppers, bobbies, pigs, scum if you like but they are not the Feds, idiot).

Greedy, violent, amoral? All of those things.

Poorly parented? Probably

Disrespectful? Yes but who isn’t?

We live in a culture of disrespect, of doing amoral, sometimes illegal things and getting away with it.

MP’s, bankers, News International, policemen…they’re all taking what they want, it’s damaging society, no-one’s stopping them. They’re not only getting away with it, but being flattered, courted, respected.

I think the reasons the riots happened are complex and a huge part of me hopes that they are all caught, locked up and keys thrown away. However, we need stop pretending that the rioters were being more disrespectful than other people. They were just more violent.

The disrespect, that’s everywhere…and they are normally on the receiving end of it.

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Stuff and nonsense

Things I am thinking about now.

1) The aftermath of this…

2) I’m a little bit worried about this boy, maybe time to go to Belfast

3) Looking forward the the theatre on Sunday, we’re going to see One Man, Two Guvnors, a Richard Bean play with James Corden, what’s not to love!

4) Looking after Ms T today, she’s not gonna be happy about that. Thursday are normally spent with her Oma and I am a poor replacement and totally unmoved by her tantrums, she’ll learn and after an hour or so, we’ll have fun!

5) Ironing, I have a pile of it and I don’t want to do it

 

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The difference a year makes..

August 2010

Oliver and Tabitha last year at my birthday.

August 2011

This year walking, talking (well they can both say no!), chaos causing individuals. Olly is more used to the flat and knows were all the good stuff is. For a toddler that’s 1) the bathroom, so taps can be turned on and water splashed 2) Aunty Nic’s bedroom so he can open all the drawers and play with the radio 3) the kitchen so he can press all the buttons on the washing machine and oven. He wasted no time in showing Tabitha. I was quite surprised about Tabitha’s willingness to follow Olly around and get into mischief!

We survived this time but next year we might have to take it somewhere else!

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I still love this city..

Last week I wrote about how much I loved London.

Over this weekend rioting broke out, last night in Ealing, where I live.

I grew up here in the 80’s, I’ve lived here through riots, football hooliganism, bombing, I was even tear gassed at school (brother of a pupil threatening a teacher, no we weren’t seriously hurt). The point is that as wonderful as London is, it’s not perfect and this stuff does happen.

This is what I’ve learnt. We need to carry on day to day. If we don’t, if we are afraid to live,then ‘they’ win. When 7/7 happened I continued to use the Tube, because no-one was going to scare me out of my city. This week, I’m going to continue to live in my city. No-one scares me out of my city.

I’m a Londoner. We can do hard things. There are people living in this city that are rioting. We can argue about why later but the best part of London isn’t the people rioting, it’s the people this morning who took to the streets to tidy up and ask the Mayor where his broom was..

We don’t break easily.  I’m still proud to be a Londoner and it’s still an amazing place to live.

Today that’s all I’ve got.

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Is that the champagne talking..

Christelle gave me this card for my birthday..

She said she saw it and thought of me!

I don’t know if I should worry but it made me laugh….

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Advice

Heather had a great post on Friday about advice and asked for the best piece of advice that we’d been given.  I wrote this and I think it’s worth repeating!

Three things:
1) If it’s something you can’t tell your mother or your best friend, don’t do it!
Whether it’s the bitching about someone, giving up on the run, being involved with someone unsuitable, if you’d be too ashamed to admit to the people that love you, that’s a pretty good guide that you shouldn’t be doing it!!
2) You can do anything for a minute.
Running that bit further or faster, doing a plank, dealing with something I don’t want to be that housework, filing etc, you can do it for a minute and then see how you feel!
3) If no one died or got seriously hurt it’s not a disaster or a crisis.
It might feel like it but really it’s not, take a breath, you’re allowed to be upset/stressed whatever but normally it’s not the end of the world.

I think those three cover most situations.

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Sunday Music

Pink Martini. Just because they are fabulous, this year martinis were the birthday drink of choice and ‘Hang on Little Tomato’ fit where I am right now…

so I hold on to this advice/when change is hard and not so nice/if you listen to your heart the whole night through/your sunny someday/will come one day soon to you..

Jillian’s favourite (in fact Olly thinks that Dosvedanya is Russian for Grandma!)

I don’t won’t to work, I don’t want to lunch, I just want to forget, so I smoke..

Over the Valley

 

 

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Zombie Dodging…

Oh for the money to leave the country and do this…

Run for Your Lives

never have I wanted to run a race more….

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