There’s Something About Danyl

There’s something about X Factor’s new protege Danyl Johnson that I just can’t stand. I want to wipe that smirk of his face, and put this arrogant twit in his place.

With the X Factor has been bigger and better this year, so to have the contestants had to deal with rising pressures of fame and performance. Danyl is undoubtedly a good singer, but whilst Jedward continue their sheer bloody awful dominance, there’s a backlash against the bisexual teacher that no-one seems to be able to stop. In all theories I should be a supporter. I should be supporting the LGBT, the fact that he’s a hottie and the fact that he’s actually good. But aside from the rumours of arrogance, of bullying, of his belief that he will win because he’s just amazing, his face makes my skin crawl, his voice sparks irritation, and his continual use of the  ‘power’ note at the end of every performance is starting to become a bore. Yes, he lost his spark last week. Yes, Dannii’s comment, though now forgotten, should have seen him get the sympathy vote. But now he’s several weeks in, his confidence is back, he’s even tried shaving his head to make people like him.

At the end of the day, whilst his voice may be up to it, if the public don’t like this smarmy little excuse of a man, then he’ll get nowhere, record contract or not. And no shaven head is going to win the battle. Jog on Danyl.

Save The Dollhouse

It seems that once again Fox is looking to cancel another series before it really gets a chance. Putting Terminator – The Sarah Connor Chronicles on the scrap heap earlier this year, far ahead of time, Fox seems to be weiling the knife for Joss Whedon’s latest creation – Dollhouse.

Far be it from me to compare T:SCC to Dollhouse more than mentioning their shared broadcaster. Ashley Miller’s outstandingly well character driven and written Terminator series truthfully far suceeds the lesser Dollhouse. It was original, intelligent sci-fi which was culled in its prime, with fans continuing to do all they can to push the series to another broadcast pickup.

Meanwhile, whilst Fox announces that Dollhouse is to take a hiatus mid season 2, it seems the axe is well and truly slicing through the air once again. The concept is good, and more than enough to keep me amused. Its sci-fi, has a few geeks (think CSI’s lab-rat characters), is full of pretty people, has a sprinkling of Brits,  and even has an ex ‘Neighbours’ star in the form of Dichen Lachman (whose acting skills seem to have rocketed since making the move to LA). It has enough of an undercurrent story arc to keep fans instrigued over Echo’s next move whilst the stand alone episodes stand up well against many other sci-fi and fantasy series.

Of course, whilst there is good, there is more often or not bad. Miracle Laurie who plays doll Mellie, certainly needs to heed her own name. Taking the concept of being a doll to rather uncanny method acting levels, she needs a miracle to be anything less than boring. Luckily it seems producers felt this way too and cut her free at the end of Season 1. Meanwhile, whilst TSCC came in with all bells ringing from day 1, its true that Dollhouse, midway through Season 2 still seems to be finding its feet.

However, whilst the small screen hits continue to pull in record ratings, it would be a shame for TV execs to not give credit where its due and allow further seasons to shows which do just ok. For now, save the Dollhouse, give Dichen a chance, and make sure that Miracle Mellie never returns.

Wasp Killing Resumes

There’s one animal that i’ve always loathed. Not because of it’s apparent lack of necessity, nor because its annoyance at picnics, but because that tiny little sting can cause death.

How I have managed it i do not know, but I can be glad to say that I have never been stung. Not by a wasp, or a bee, in fact I’ve only once been nibbled upon by a furry bumble. However, other’s are not so lucky and with my father being highly allergic, it’s taken me a long time to see a wasp and not uncontrollably want to crush the beggar to death. I did manage to stop, after all, I live over 100 miles away from my folks and actually, wasps do quite a lot of good as natural pest controllers.

However, a frantic phone call last night to inform me that my Dad had been rushed to hospital in anaphylactic shock because he’d been stung, has once again brought blood rushing to my revenge filled head. Thankfully he’s ok after the quick response of paramedic’s and bizarrely he was conducting the All Souls service when it happened. One minute he was leading the prayers, the next he was collapsed on the floor surrounded by a worried and hushed congregation. Awakening with a flurry of swearing, covered in the poppies that he sent flying as he’d crashed to the floor, it’s all by the grace of god that he didn’t join the people passed that the prayers were in remembrance of.

But my threshold has been reached, and once again I want revenge. Die Wasps Die. Come near me at your peril.

The Comfortability Factor

Dating continues to be a strange concept. Once again, I dared to poke my head above the sandy depths to take a light hearted flutter on the dating scene, and whilst it wasn’t a disaster it was rather odd.

I met J last week on a gay dating site. Normally I chat to a few people here and there but it never goes any further, but somehow, even though on paper he’s far from my ideal man, J caught my attention. After days of messages and then hours of phone calls, we finally decided that we’d meet up for a takeaway and DVD night. There was a veritable feast of chemistry, a strange recognition of characters so that it seemed we’d known each other for years, and laughs a plenty.

But then the oddity happened. In person there was nothing. No chemistry, no seeming attractive, either way. Just a complete comfortability with each other, to say what we wanted, to do silly voices, burp, be stupid, but none of the chemistry from before.

I’m perplexed. I don’t really know what happened. It’s added a whole new dimension to dating, that daunting feeling that whilst attraction and personality can come together, sometimes people can be just TOO similar or comfortable. My mind can’t really process the data, I’m returning to the underground where worries like this don’t have to concern my complex mind.

A Healthy Form of Torture

Whilst I always had a weird, inner want,  to run the London marathon I don’t think I ever expected to actually do it. After last years triumph – simply getting round the course in 4:30:36, I’m totally hooked on it. Flora ended their sponsorship last year, passing over to Virgin and so in 2010 it is even more vital that I gain a place. I did that last Flora, I want to do the first Virgin.

However, after unexpectantly gaining a place last year, this year is the opposite. It now falls to the horrendous task of trying to get a limited and widely wanted charity place. And of course, this is far more difficult as you can’t sign up to multiple charities, as some actually make you sign a contract. I’m rubbish at fundraising, and becoming tied into two charity places would be a nightmare.

After applying for a place with the Parkinson’s Disease Society, I now anxiously wait after the closing date tomorrow to see if I’ve been rewarded for my effort. I want my steel abs back, I want that extra push to give up alcohol, in actual fact I do want to raise some money for charity. Go on Parkinsons, give me a place and I’ll run like I’ve never run before.

An Escape From Reality

Ready for Evening Flight

For the dreamers, the heart warming hippies, the collectors of trinkets, and chains, and random craft goodies, I’ve found the escape from reality that we crave. Where dress refects personality, where no one is made to feel unease or worry from fello humans, where one’s mind can flit through the dream sequence of a day with yet more surprising surrealness to come later that night. And where do dreams like this appear from I hear you say. Well, it’s all down at The Secret Garden Party.

Not content to keep the joy of the summer festival at bay, where we frittered (and flitted) nights away as humble bee’s, The Secret Garden Party have come up with a cunning ploy to make us even enjoy the modern commercial neon light illuminated Christmas period. As my ongoing thoughts continue to sway in and out of daily life in a vain attempt to actually novelise those dreams that swirl and bubble in my head, there is decadence and surreality on the horizon. Yes, Secret Garden are having a festive party!

On the 12th December, only days after I’ve arrived back from the shores of America, people will be donning ladies and gentlemans attire, adding the final feather to their pirate’s hat, painting the last scale onto their sea creature costume, to take to the HMS Ulysses for a night of dreamlike elegance, hidden passageways, surreal parties, and primetime mind out of body experience. The Secret Garden’s Christmas Voyage is upon us, and for all that dare, be ready to enter a radical new world.

As I contemplate random attire, why not join us on the Voyage and turn dreams into surreal like reality.

Bring on the Hermitage

It’s that time of the month, year or whatever it is again, which makes me want to hide inside the hermitage and not venture out into the great unknown. After several weeks and ridiculously long hours working on another gardening makeover and a couple of TV pilots, I’ve most definately crawled back under my stone and intend on remaining here until further notice.

I shouldn’t be allowed out of the house in these moods. Only last week I took a bus, yes, public transport, to a clients. It didn’t put me in the greatest mood from the start but in my rather delicate frame of mind, seeing an old lady desperately staggering down the street, her trousers and knickers around her ankles, I simply couldn’t cope. Not one soul stopped to help her and I was stuck on this damn bus, surrounded by the elderly, and I thought I actually just wanted to die. For, leaving the house when in one these moments leaves me open to coersion of dangerous thoughts. Thought of ‘I don’t want to get older’. Thoughts of “what’s the bleedin point if I could end up with my pants at my knees, needing help and the human race blanks me from their radar.”

And to be fair. Hermiting isn’t all bad. It isn’t non productive. I’ve written more of the novel. I’ve applied to be an About.com guide. I’ve done all my writing work and even taken on some extra to help my editor out of a tight spot. Yes. Staying in the hermitage protects my mental state and still pays the bills. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Why I Love Freelancing

Why people continue to sit in dreary jobs, hating their bosses, dreading their workloads I do not know. I understand fully the situation, you’re stuck in a rut, you’re scared to try something different. I know that feeling. I’ve been there. But all I can say is freelancing is most definately the way forward.

Now I am here, I simply cannot understand why people are content to sit for weeks, months, years under the same cricital boss. Someone they may hate. Working for a company to gain profits that you’ll never see yourself.

Freelancing quite simply opens your life to an entirely new route, to a concept that once you have got your head around it, is sheer bliss. I have no boss, apart from me. I choose when, where and how much I work. Failure is down to me, and so I constantly strive never to fail, and you’ll be amazed at how easy that is when you yourself are the only one to blame. Freelancing allows you to do whatever you want, in an environment you wish, whilst making for a better and more productive life.

For example, after my “binge drinkers” television shoot this weekend I had nothing planned until the 5th October when I start filming more garden makeovers. The usual gardening clients and writing work was on the board for the next couple of weeks and all was rosy. Then today I get a call about a possible two weeks job starting on Monday for a new TV pilot. I’m a freelancer, I do what i want. So now I have two weeks working on a pilot. How could life be better. My writing work can be done in the evenings, my clients fully understand how my life works, and all is peachy.

I will say that one of the most important things for the freelancer is to have varied income streams. I have a gardening business, I write for online clients, and I work as a TV runner/researcher. If TV work dries up I simply increase gardening. When the wintery months arrive I focus harder on increasing my writing workload and relax a little on the yearly profit. In some ways its the best reason for becoming a freelancer as you get to develop a range of skills, work on a range of hobbies and you can never, never get bored with life!

Plus, for those of you worried about the financial woes, it doesn’t impact long term goals such as mortgages and loans because, as long as you register as self employed, you can do your own financial self assessment!!

Freelancing is the way forward to a better more fulfilled life. No more saying “I hate my job”. No more being bored in a little cubicle. The world is your oyster so grab it.

Julia & Julia

Having managed to miss any promotional material on the film ‘Julia & Julia’, it was not until this past weekend when a friend said she wanted to see it, that I took any notice. Taking the orange wednesday opportunity we hot footed it to the cinema and I have to say, the trailer was good, the film was awesome!

From the moment that Meryl Streep as Julia Child stepped onto the screen I was captivated. A Meryl Streep fan for as long as I can remember, I can never recall a time where I was so taken aback by a change of character. She was witty, comical and though her accent was rather perculiar it didn’t matter in the least. Utterly sincere when she needed to be, the story of the Child’s rise to celebrity chef and author was hysterically brilliant.

Meanwhile, away from the early 20th century of Paris, early 21st century took us to queens where cubicle loathing Julia Powell (Amy Adams) gave us a less funny, but still captivating ride of a modern woman feeling lost. Whilst I preferred Meryl Streep’s screen moments (along with Stanley Tucci who played a brilliant Paul Child), Adam’s portrayel kept the story moving swifty along, embracing blogging (hooray!) and cooking as she attempted to cook all of Child’s 524 recipes in 365 days.

A fantastic movie that was not cliched, was true to both stories and far funnier than I ever thought it could be, Julia & Julia really is one to watch this Autumn!

Half Marathons and Social Overload

I don’t know what tips the balance. Something in my brain. Something physically. Something other-worldly. I reach a point of social saturation where my brain goes into meltdown and I have to get away from people as fast as possible or risk falling even deeper into the well. I wouldn’t say that’s depression, for I don’t want to jump from a bridge, take some pills or bleed my wrists, but I do need almost instant solitude. It’s like fight or flight, I have to remove myself from the situation which is simply an over-powering from people. And it isn’t group size either, in its extremity it can occur with only one other person present.

My half marathon went very well. 1:49:35 and I was done. 13.1  miles on a hot day, inclines a bundle and a wanting to stop after only 3miles in. I was aiming for under 2 hours, which I achieved and I even and dramatically, to rapturous applaude,  managed to sprint the final 200m. There’s something about ending a long run on a athletics track that brings out the inner olympian. You feel drained. Shattered. Legs which feel simultaneoulsy like jelly and stone. Heart bursting. But somewhere, there’s a residual strength which see’s the red asphault, the white lines and suddenly utter madness brings instant resign to run, as fast as possible.

Im very glad I did, for otherwise I would have had a repeat of the London marathon where a few mere seconds over a definiative minute would have caused slight woe. As it was I was entirely happy with my performance and focussed on finding the next run to aim for even a smarter time. And, I have to say, the medal is FAR better than the FLORA highlighting london marathon.

Tonight I’m hiding. After yesterday’s exhaustion, family socialising and an afternoon with my sister I’m feeling satuarised. Normally, a quiet evening, biscuits and port with the folks in front of the tv would have been fine, but relatives have descended of the most frustrating kind. Debating the colour of milk, you can’t even have a normal conversation and I haven’t the energy to fight my corner or win my opionion. Its hermiting for me tonight. And I love it.