Being Me

Had a great time tonight performing at 'Cafe Create', an arts cafe in Leamington Spa.  I did this monologue about acne.  I made it a monologue and not a poem because I couldn't find any rhymes for acne.  Apart from Hackney.   But apart from throwing in a random reference to North East London, I couldn't see how to fit that in.  Give a poet a break, peoples. About spots Look, I'm sorry, but when I buy a product called ‘spot concealer’ the name gives me certain expectations.  But it seems my understanding of the words 'spot' and 'concealer' are different from those of the manufacturers. Here we are again, where I often find myself, mired in the tricky and dangerous swamps of vocabulary. Let us flounder together in the mulch of meaning and examine these words. Spot : I watched a play once in which a woman yelled, ‘Out, damned spot’.  I’m not sure why – her skin looked fine to me – but she had a doctor and a nurse in attendance, so I guess her acne m

It's a long, long time since I had to get up in the night to feed or change a baby.  These days, I only get up in the night to check that I'm still alive before dropping back off. But I still remember, even though it was so long ago, that the sweet and loving things one said about Baby in the daytime were often translated into something quite different at three o'clock in the morning .... Daytime: 'Yes, he's got a healthy pair of lungs on him, that's for sure.  Cute, eh?' Nighttime: 'Darling, I can't stand Baby's noise any more.  Please bang some nails into the nursery window, otherwise I am afraid I will fling open the sash and cast Baby out into the dark night.' Daytime: 'Right, that's his lunch done.  I'll just pop up and change his nappy just in case he gets nappy rash.' Nighttime: 'Yes, I know his nappy's been on for seventeen hours now and weighs as much as a Tesco lorry.  If you DARE wake him u

Been thinking about ways of making money and wondered whether to start taking in students again.  We used to when we had a young family.  For some reason, though, they always went back to Italy/Spain/France after their two weeks with us feeling a little shaky.  The last Italian we hosted summed it up by saying: 'Italian families not like you English families.  Not like you at all,' before edging out of the door and heading back for Rome without looking back. One day, we'd cooked a large shepherd's pie which we wanted to put in the fridge to save for the next day's tea.  So we put it in our bath to cool down, running some cold water for it to sit in to get it cooler more quickly.   We often did this.  The bathroom was right next to the kitchen, so it seemed like a handy little trick. However, the Italian student came home from her day at college and said, 'Can I go in the bathroom to have a bath?'  'Yes, yes, of course,' we said, fetching her a to

Yay!  250 followers.  That's three since I said I wouldn't be blogging much.  It obviously works.  So, let me say, here and now, that I am NEVER BLOGGING AGAIN.  NO, NEVER.  NOT EVER.  NOT EVER AGAIN..... But, while I'm here, I have a few thoughts about following instructions. 1.  On the toilet roll holder in a cubicle at work today, I saw that it said, 'If toilet roll has run out, turn clockwise for another roll'.  Well, the roll did run out, and what a rigmarole that is!  Standing up.  Pants round your knees.  Turning round a few times (I got it wrong at first and went anticlockwise - I didn't get my Spatial Awareness O'level).  And all that in a small cubicle only just bigger than me.  What's more, not even a SUGGESTION of a new toilet roll making its way down.  What a con that is.  Next time I'll take my own tissue.  Pff. 2. Last week, I bought this chocolate steamed pudding which came in a tin.  It said on the side, 'Pierce the can lid

It tickled me that the day after I posted saying, 'I won't be posting much' I get another follower.  Is this because someone, having read my blog, found the thought of me NOT posting really appealing, so they joined up? Anyway, while I'm here, I want to show you this German who has won a world's best beard competition .  His beard has a moose in it. I wonder if, somewhere, there is a moose sporting a beard with a German sculpted into it.  I would like to see that picture very much. Talking about beards, I wrote a blog post once about Goldilocks and The Three Beards to show what harmy can be done just by adding another consonant to a word by mistake.  If you can be bothered, it is  right here. If you can't be bothered, you are perhaps tired and weary, so here is a nice picture of some fish for you to look at instead.  They are kissing.  Isn't that sweet? Hey, they think we're peaceful to look at.  Hah!  Look at them, peering in through the gl

Maybe it's time to explain my relative absence from the blogosphere and the likelihood of more absence ..... Some good news:  I have a new job.  Sometimes I like doing it. The flip side:  I am drowning in work like I've never drowned in work before and can't keep up with reading your blogs, even though I need the laugh like I've never needed laughs before. Some good news:  I have had a couple of recent opportunities to perform some poetry and more to come. The flip side:  That means I have to write fresh stuff. Some good news:  I like writing fresh stuff.  It's well fun. The flip side:  I don't have time to write blog posts about wrapping babies in foil or in dead cats . The good news:  You don't have to read my posts about wrapping babies in foil or dead cats. The flip side:  You may be as sick in the head as I am and therefore wanting to. Some good news:  I have found out how to use Twitter (in a very basic fashion) The flip side:  I ha

Samoa is jumping forward a day and I'm thinking, 'Hey, I want some of that'.  Join my 'Why-Should-Samoa-get-all-the-Luck?' campaign and read my campaign statement  here on Poetry 24 'Hey, Dad.  This is fab.  Not many of the other little boy pandas can claim to be going on 28 dates!'

I learned some things while performing poetry at the Chipping Campden Comedy Club last night.  (I just realised that could be shortened to CCCC which sounds something a very accommodating Italian would say.)  I thought I would pass on my new-found wisdom in case you find yourself in a similar situation. Lesson 1. Don't take your sister, if she resembles you closely, to any of your performances.  She will get half of the thanks for your performance afterwards and, also, you will get people looking at you strangely and thinking how much you look like that woman who performed her poetry. As for differences between the sisters, there were nun at all. Lesson 2.  Make sure you have planned for the likelihood that a cat will stroll into the performance space while you are mid-poem.  Have a wittier comment ready for the occasion than mine, which was 'Oh! Oh!  I can't believe this!'  (which was ad libbing at its very, very creative best).  And bear in mind that th