Month: February 2024

Two cats live here. Rajah and Carlos. I expect you’ll all be sick of photos of them before long. Tonight I’m too tired. Not because of them. Looking after them really only involves keeping the food topped up and telling them how beautiful they are. They have an outside garden and they do all their stinky things out there no matter the weather. No litter tray! Inconceivable!

I’m tired just because of this atrocious weather. It was a long drive from London to Brighton and then from Brighton to Hastings with faulty wipers through an assault of sheeting vicious flood. Visibility went with the dark and it was just vile for much of the way. I knew there was a Lou half way and then a log fire at the end of it all.

India Rakusen kept me company most of the way with her BBC podcast “Witch”. Worth digging into for sure. A measured blend of facts and woowoo, and plenty of food for thought over plenty of episodes. I’ve only got two left now and I’ll be driving a good four hours tomorrow. I’m taking my hostess and the cat mum off to Heathrow so she can fly to Goa.

It’s 30° in Goa. Why the fuck am I not flying to Goa? Better by far than this unseasonal bad weather in South English February. How dare it still be winter when there are daffodils in the verges? The flat is full of cut spring flowers but there’s been so little sun they haven’t wanted to open yet. I can feel it retreating, but yeah, I suppose the rainy season is still to come. February early spring is perhaps a function of my optimism more than a reality. It’s coming though.

Lou is with me in the woods for the first few days. Once I’ve gone to Heathrow and back we can catch up here where there’s no traffic noise and two affectionate fluffy idiots. There’s an Airbnb nearby that has people for the weekend, but it is rarely tenanted at this time of year so mostly we can hang here and forget the hustle and bustle.

After the weekend I’m doing that spot of filming and then shooting off to Budapest for a wee jaunt on my own. Then I’ll be here a week or so with the cats and perhaps another friend. For now it’s late and I’m up early for the chauffeur service. Time to go to bed.

I’m shifting my base for a bit. There’s a friend of Lou’s who lives in the woods near Hastings. I know that woodland pretty well from summertime visits to a patch of woodland owned by my dear friend’s uncle. Bella has two cats and a roof over her head, but she’s pretty much in the woods. And she’s off to Goa. Someone needs to look after the creatures. A change is as good as a rest, they say. So I’m gonna go live with the cats. There may or may not be another friend there at some point. I’m pretty chilled about it all, really. I’m mostly thinking about the cats and the sunset through the trees.

I guess it means I’ll have to pack a basic bag tomorrow morning though. There’s a fair amount going on. Sure it’s only one day of filming, but that’ll be happening on the 13th and I’ll have to be on form. “I like your humility,” said the wardrobe mistress today and I told her I’d be showing off about that later. A comment that comes from someone who is flooded with people who look and sound like me but are pompous egomaniacs. Even more than I am. Writing words about my life daily. Maybe that’s a benign way for the narcissism to come out. Rather than being a shithead to everyone. But yeah, bless her. She thought I was nice.

Fuck. Maybe I am.

Nice can still be sexy. Sexy-nice. That’s me. Yeah…

She was dressing me in the most horrible clothes. And she took one photo with the jumper I was wearing. It’s red cashmere – the garment you wear when you think you’ll be spilling wine down your front. I got it on Vinted for tuppence.

Bedtime. Need to print some stuff out in the morning before I leave, and get the paper etc. Admin never stops.

I was in Walworth today attempting to get some young people to switch their heads on about energy consumption. It used to be a living but the company seems to be slowing down at the moment. Most of the people I knew who teach these workshops, they’ve all gone off to do more predictable things. Muggins here keeps his options open on purpose. Muggins had to get up early post poker.

A predicted, I woke up somewhere in Elephant and Castle with a Vanilla Latte in one hand and a muffin in the other. No contact lenses and a vehicular soup between my flat and the caffeine. I shoved my lenses into my newly caffeinated eyes and zinged the rest of the way to the car park and the big room full of youth.

They’re good this school. Last year I was there with no printouts and no screen. I’m supposed to be running a PowerPoint. The whole event devolved into theatre. The kids seemed to enjoy it. They asked for it back but this time there were tables and printouts and it all felt more official. There was even a volunteer from the National Grid. Wasn’t expecting them, they didn’t really know why they were there. I don’t think they spoke to a single student for the whole workshop. Just looked a bit fazed and smiley. Like me before the coffee.

The day did the day thing thing and time moved as it likes to and eventually I got to go home. Now it’s into the bath and another early bed cos there’s an Addison Lee showing up at sparrow’s fart tomorrow to take me up to Mill Hill and a costume fitting. I won’t have to drive or prepare though so I’ll make a coffee in the bubbler and carry it. But still, still I struggle with that bit of the morning before half seven. Thank all the Gods I’m not a schoolteacher.

These workshops are easy now. But the easier they get the less I want to do them. Maybe I really am a masochist.

Poker.

I almost took the pot. Got my stake back.

We weren’t expecting this.

Adam catalysed it all. He just casually suggested maybe Brian he and I should come play poker. It ended up being a lot more people. Brian’s business partner Louis very much wanted in on it. I wasn’t concerned about the win or the loss, but that was where the game was going to be pointed.

The excellent thing was that Louis talked us all through the betting, the blinds, the game of it. And then he took the pot. I fucked up royally on the biggest hand of the night, being convinced I had an 8 and then, when revealed, discovering it was a 5 and I had nothing instead of the winning 3 of a kind I had been playing. But the host taking the pot on the first ever night isn’t really etiquette. Louis was a gracious winner. And it was nice to see all the humans.

Jack and Adam from this year’s Carol. Louis who was there for many of the squeakier moments over the years, making it all happen, trying to troubleshoot the explosions. Brian and I, and it’s glorious having him here again. I’m thrilled about it. More humans were there too, but etiquette.

I’m working tomorrow in Walworth, at arse in the morning. Early enough that I’m gonna lay my clothes out when I’m done writing so I can ghost into my car while I’m still asleep. The good news is there’s a predictable Gregg’s in a petrol station ten minutes from my house towards work. That’ll be my wake up.

For now it is bedtime. A lovely lovely inaugural poker night for BarclayHook Towers. I’m battered and have to do unfamiliar things first thing tomorrow. Night night.

A&E in this country must be absolutely run off their feet. With all the funding cuts over decades, the gradual trickle of the glacial dismantling of the system by the implacable plastic men at the top of the system right now must be stretching our friends the care workers that CARE to breaking.

GPs now have to be booked about a week in advance. By which time the flu you had has either killed you or got better. So we all have to go to urgent care in order to get a prescription of antibiotics for a septic tooth.

I have scavenged a fair amount of antibiotics over the years, a good two courses. They are for emergencies where something definitely needs them quickly. Say it happens on a Friday night? Then it’ll save me a trip to A&E and five hours or more waiting because they have to bump the guy who fell into a vat of tapioca up the list ahead of me.

What’s the solution? More funding TO PAY THE STAFF WITH. Captain Tom knew this, but nothing that he earned walking went that way. It went to NHS Trusts, which is like Pizza Express saying the tips go “to the advantage” of staff, meaning they build a training centre.

We can clap all we like, but these people are working incredibly hard for us and everything is being defunded, including them. They make it work. just. But they do it for complicated reasons of their own. And eventually most of them are going to get squeezed out. Apart from a new government that isn’t made of plastic and lies, I’m not sure what we can actually do to save the ruins of this incredible healthcare system I’ve lived with all my life.

Lou went to A&E today to get a prescription of antibiotics for an infected bite. That would normally be a GP thing but on Friday they had nothing until Thursday. That’s a mess of a situation. Means you can only really use your GP for routine medical check ups. Anything pressing and you just have to go to A&E…

I’m at home, trying again to chip away at the mountain. Progress is being made but slowly slowly.

I’ve been saying I’m gonna get myself to Budapest for the best part of 25 years now. The amount of times I’ve earmarked a weekend for it and then something has come up … it has got to the point where my friend out there jokes with me about it. “See you in Budapest on the weekend,” he’ll say, knowing damn well I’m not gonna be there.

The opportunity came up again and it looked like a good one. Lou was gonna be working there and I wanted to meet the people and see the show having not done so yet. It’s never very near London. I booked a flight mid February with Wizz, no refunds, no luggage.

Lou’s circumstances have unexpectedly changed and she won’t be there anymore. I could bin the whole trip, but something makes me want to finally see my friend and his town. We were at drama school together, forever ago. He’s still doing this silly job. We are brothers.

I’m gonna go out, I think, finally. I’ll try and see the show anyway, and catch as much of the city as I can. It’s something to look forward to at the end of this long long winter.

Meanwhile, in America, the groundhog predicted an early spring. I like to think that the groundhog’s predictions are backed up with serious scientific work, so if it’ll be an early spring over that side of the pond, there’s no reason we can’t have one too. Maybe it’ll be springtime in Budapest.

I’m still half expecting something to happen that means I have to cancel again… I’ve got a day on set before I fly. Betcha it gets pushed to the next day…

Hopefully when we wake up it’ll be tomorrow. You never know with Groundhog Day.

I thought I’d go look at the news for a change, and very quickly established that that’s a mistake. Iran and USA going big guns at each other as another head of the hydra that started with Ukraine and will lead to Taiwan via everything. And closer to home some sociopathic children murdered someone for being trans. I’m sure lots of lovely things happened recently but those are the easiest stories to find and I’m not sure why I looked at it now. It’s all vile.

I didn’t leave the house today and probably should have. I’ve been a bit of a morlock. Snotty coldy nose isn’t helping but hopefully by tomorrow I’ll be feeling less rubbish on that front. Even my teeth hurt. I need to see the sun. Morning is the only time. So I’ve sent myself to bed. I might even have a sleepy drink and just nod off into crazy dreams so I know I’ll wake up refreshed and early enough to catch the light tomorrow.

Another week. Time just flies by. I have too much hanging over me at the moment and need to dig dig dig up towards the light. But it’s all too easy to just let the days tick past accompanied by these feelings of powerlessness. I really ought to find some legal advice. But pulling my own socks up will be a starting point. Yesterday I was so upbeat – I’ve just had a day of heady coldiness and it has ground me down a wee bit.

Weekend stretching out in front of us all. I can’t believe it’s Friday night. I’ve never felt less like going out on the town than I do right now.

My sugar craving has been fixed with a mug of Ovaltine. I’ll probably feel a little less crap in a day or two when any remaining alcohol is out of my system. Friday night? Not this week.

February at last. Imbolc, and a long bright day. I slept with my curtains open and was cooked awake. Last week I ordered some boxes of lucky charms, and they arrived yesterday. A nostalgia thing, after long happy teenage summers in Maine with my godfather, fishing, eating sugar, chopping wood and trying to prevent him from killing me and making it look like an accident. Don’t ask. But I was after those lucky charms back then. There’s nothing quite like the squeak of those marshmallows on your teeth first thing in morning. I had a little bowl and looked ahead to the month to come.

The light is coming back, but the dark doesn’t want to let go. Bad news coming in from left and right. A new friend is suddenly catastrophically flooded and has to stay at ours. She was there when I woke up. Brian fielded the emergency and I didn’t have to wake for it, so had been happily talking to myself in my pants for quite some time when she came in. I’ve been getting ready for another self-tape. Lucky me.

Tristan showed up late morning after I had pleaded with him for assistance. It’s the sort of tape that requires his creative eye. We drove round to Tanya’s and made use of a corridor there.

My favourite casting notice so far. I want to get the offer just so I can print the email offering the part, pin it up somewhere and chuckle to myself when I remember it. Satan.

My process with self taping has been extensively documented in these pages. I didn’t like that they’re easier if you live in a big house and have money for lights and reflectors and things, but actually now you can get the basics cheaply enough that it is not so much of a barrier to the broke. Also they are common enough that I’ve started to trust that people see the performance and the actor more than the lighting state and background. I’m still a little cynical about whether they actually all get watched, but perhaps that’s after having sent some blinding ones and had no traction.

Tristan and I took time in the set up, but actually had it down fine first take because we did. We did one more for safety and then I was relaxed enough to take some risks with a character ident. It’s Satan for crying out loud. You’ve got to be mischievous.

Normally it goes out the morning it’s due, but I got it in to Esta before close of play and she sent it on. I can leave a little bit of me attached to that one knowing I did a good job. I’m not sure why but I’m feeling generally optimistic about the things I send right now. Perhaps the positive change is looking at me for some reason. Although so many of my dearly beloved are having a hard time with the fingers of winter still pulling their spirits down. Light is coming, and it is there if you look for it, always.

I saw my first snowdrops today. The daffodil shoots are poking up. The tentative edges of spring, coming through, and the promise of a true summer to match our true winter.

Last night was lovely. I don’t get out so much these days, I guess. I was early to Waterloo so rolled into Flavia’s home which is near The Cut so perfectly well placed. It’s always a joy to visit her and we have been friends for long enough that we can see each other out of the blue without having communicated for months. I’m having a clean February so as a last gasp I bought a nice 2020 Amarone from Sainsbury’s and the two of us had enough of it that by the time I got to the Young Vic I was pleasantly lubricated.

The crowd at the Vic was lovely. An old boy’s network type affair, but fewer potatoes than the last one I went to. Turns out that people who go into the arts often end up with perspective on things. I enjoyed it, and by cleaving to my old friend I managed to leave early and get home before I was drunk.

Now I’m in bed with a hot toddy after another long admin day. It’s slow going. I’m awful at it. Bed is looking tempting and I’m gonna live the dream. I finally got around to watching something a little bit like cricket highlights from the India test the other day. The BBC have lost it, which is a great shame. No test match special on the radio. That kept me company on many a long solo drive in summer. It’s all change these days.

February tomorrow and I’m fully expecting the world to immediately feel a little bit brighter and a little bit warmer. I might be grumpy for the first three days as I’m going to be annoyed with myself for being strict, but after that I will probably be full of beans. Hopefully see some of you in the light of Imbolc.