One Act play rejected!!!!

I've just had a one act play rejected from the CornerHouse One Acts festival in Tolworth. I don't know the first thing about the festival so my play wasn't 'tonally' correct for the festival but the feedback is so lovely that I just had to share it.

Still Young

POSITIVES: daring; very well written; convincing and believable dialogue; three good, strong characters; really believable; flowed very well; really liked this

NEGATIVES: food fight calls for serious choreography; f-word; unsuitable for family audiences; feels more awkward than funny; overplayed slapstick

• Rather daring entry for the CH based on teenaged student's suspicion (justified as we see in the pay-off!) that his 30s-something single mum is having it away with his best friend. Sprinkling of the 'F' word, although appropriate for the characters and not over-used, would justify an 'Adults Only' flag in the programme. Script calls for a half-hearted comedic fight between the lads, involving tomato sauce and food bits which would call for some serious choreography. Would be best-suited for final slot of the evening.
• Cast of two men, one woman. The young men are friends, but the realisation dawns on one that the other may be having a fling with his mother. The audience is strung along. Is he having an affair? Isn’t he? Adult conversation, including the f-word, which makes it unsuitable for family audiences, and probably a bit strong for sleepy Tolworth. It’s very well written, though, and might be worth using for a more adult one-act evening, rather than the general one. Convincing and believable dialogue, and three good, strong characters.
• I thought this was really well written, I liked the way the "internal" scenes within the piece put different pairings of the trio together one after another to comment on the unfolding storyline. Characters really believable - the whole thing flowed very well. One scene - need to suggest a kitchen - but doable, I would imagine. I really liked this. But - & I don't think I'm being over-prissy - I don't think it's suitable for a family audience - the subject matter, some of the references & language - which you need to keep it real.
• A rather sign-posted take on the rites of passage for a young man. Bills itself as a comedy but feels more awkward than funny. Overplayed slapstick ending is at odds with the feel of the rest. Adult themes and some (necessary?) swearing.
• This was good although some reservations about the family audience. I think the title could have been more imaginative. I liked it but think there would need to be some adaptations.

X-Factor Blues

Normally I feel empty at this time of year. At soon as X-Factor finishes, it's like a friend leaves the country to go off traveling. I know I'll see them again but it doesn't stop me missing them terribly. But not this year. I'm glad it's over because, quite frankly, they lost me when Diva Fever got voted off.

X-Factor worked because it was like Panto. There were the same old characters doing the same old things but it was brilliant. And then Simon Cowell fell in love, turned into a nice fella and 'whooosh' - the magic was gone.

I think Sean Ryder to replace Simon Cowell. That would make it interesting. Or Gordon Ramsay. None of the judges makes any sense so I don't think they need to limit themselves to people in the music industry.

Matt is a great singer and Rebecca a worthy runner up. I would like to have seen one erection (as they have come to be known in our house) in second place though so that I could be rooting for the other person to win. For the first time in ages I really didn't care who won - not good.

It was all too nice. This is not what I signed up for!!!

Letter to my Lib Dem MP

Dear Mr Ed Davey, Lib Dem MP for Kingston, Surbiton and other posh places,

I voted for you and for once I actually did some research and voted for you based on your policies. Next time I shan’t bother. I shall choose who I vote for in the same way that I chose which dog I’m going to bet on at Wimbledon Dog Track – comedy names! So far that method has never let me down.

Right now, having seen that you voted for the increase in University tuition fees despite pledging during your election campaign not to do so, I can’t help but compare you to a page three model. They’ll happily wop out their lovely bits whilst they’re becoming famous enough to warrant a career in television but as soon as they reach that point, away go their principals never to be seen again. I’ve always wondered if they ever really wanted to get them out in the first place, and now I’m wondering that about you.

I left university with ‘student’ debts and they set a pattern for my twenties of never quite having enough money to cover all of my living expenses and being able to live the lifestyle that my new graduate job deserved. Students are generally short of funds but the idea is that they should be rewarded for their studies by having loads of dosh once they graduate and get a job. This generation won’t because you’ll be clawing it all back in loans (and 40% tax lest we forget). Only in middle age will their money be their own. Some will leave with £27,000 of debt; that’s the cost of a wedding and a good car! We’ll know the intelligent couples by the fact that they couldn’t afford a wedding!

But of course that’s not true because those who go to University will have Daddy’s who can pay their fees and buy them a Vera Wang gown.

I do appreciate that cuts need to be made all round and I understand the reasons why. Can I put forward a couple of suggestions.

1. Reduce the number of places. You will achieve the same result of fewer people going to University but you will discriminate based on intelligence rather than wealth.
2. Cut English degrees. I’ve never seen the point. If people want to spend 5 hours a week reading a book and discussing it form a book club – it costs less to the tax payer.
3. Cut elections. Clearly they’re a waste of time because as soon as some-one gets into power they’ll do whatever they want anyway.

If you need any further suggestions on how to run the country I’m sure the secret services know exactly where to find me, what I’m wearing and what I had for lunch.

Kind regards

Sarah

Russia - is that really in Europe???

I do feel for David Beckham. He's shaking off his image of being a bit of a thicky and is becoming an ambassador for British sport which is brilliant. I have no doubt that he and the whole British team poured their hearts and souls into the World Cup bid. We had a Prince, two Prime Ministers and a handful of legends. But it wasn't enough.

So what did we need to do to win this bid? It seems to be coming down to two things.

1. Silence our press; or

2. Dig behind the sofa for spare change, stick it in a brown envelope and give it to the FIFA officials.

I don't know the answer but the more I hear and read about the matter it seems to me we're better off out of it. FIFA seems to be run by a bunch of scoundrels. I watched the Panorama program and couldn't help but notice that every one of the FIFA members accused of corruption also looked evil. They wouldn't have been out of place on the stand of a war crimes trial. Are they being accused because they happen to look like they might be up to no good or have they come to look like that because they are up to no good. I'm not sure this one will ever be answered.

The Panorama program was put together by a man who has been trying to prove the corruption in FIFA for 20 years and has been banned from their premises. He clearly has his own drum to beat. However, I was amazed by the terms and conditions which FIFA ask countries to abide to. They keep these secret but the Dutch, being scared of no-one, published them and they were rather shocking. The host country has to change their laws to accommodate FIFA including Tax breaks and change/scrap immigration policies. Britain is a nice place - no-one would leave afterwards. The whole country would be full of even more football fans. It's hard enough to get to the bar at the moment as it is! David Cameron didn't hesitate to sign this. A bit of perspective please.

The Dutch also worked out the costs to their country and estimated that hosting the world cup would cost them many millions - not make them many millions. So why the hell do it??

I'm married to a football fan. He goes to away matches which makes him quite hardcore. Over the time I've been with him I've come to understand that Football is much more than just a game. Football fans will support their team come rain or shine and on losing streaks that are longer than their own life spans because..... football is emotional. Football, and sport, is now being marketed as entertainment. But it isn't, because to claim it's entertainment is to say that the customers have a choice on who they go to see. They don't have a choice - they will only go and see their own team... because they are emotionally attached.

Football is also about pride. Fans are proud of their teams. Well, fans of good teams are proud of their teams - the other half want to be proud of their team, if only their team could kick the bloody ball in a straight line and towards the oppositions goal for a change.

In the same way that you end up paying nearly £10 for a cup of tea and a sandwich on the train because you have no choice of vendor, football fans are ripe for exploitation.

I'm going to end with a question. If we have the money to host a world cup, why don't we just do it? Bypass FIFA. Set up our own federation. They do it in wrestling all the time! FIFA won't change because they have no need to. A bit of competition might give them a kick up the arse.

FIFA only have power because we give it to them.

But what do I know, I'm just a girl.

Remembrance Sunday 2010

Just went to the remembrance day service in Kingston. I will confess that I hadn’t actually remembered it was Remembrance Sunday and only went to Kingston because Rachel was kicking off and I’m too hormonally challenged today to deal with it in a grown up fashion – so off to Kingston we stormed!

Anyway..

I’m a bit shocked by how many people did not sing during the service. There were a good few hundred people there so we should have been able to make quite a rousing noise. I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to get Rachel to sleep, but it turned out that I didn’t need to worry about that. I felt a bit of a pillock standing there singing on my own. I didn’t really know the hymns either and the band were crap so they didn’t help me. I’ll take my hymn book next year with the music.

But the worst bit was the fact that very few people sang the national anthem. I thought that was shocking. Shocking. Where is their pride? I get the impression that there were more tourists than genuine people down there. I am proud of my country and very proud of the armed forces and the work they do so I sang my little heart out. So much so that I was then approached and asked to join the Elmbridge Ladies Choir – I politely declined!

But apart from that the parade and the service were lovely. The Sea Cadets were a rag tail bunch and their drilling was hilariously bad but very cute. There were a lot of army (real army) present and lots of police cadets. It was good to see that this kind of thing still not only exists but thrives. Kids of Kingston, you did us proud.

BORED

Things to do today

1. 1. Eat entire chocolate orange - done
2. 2. Wait in for new dishwasher
3. 3. Have hair pulled, face scratched and eyes poked by baby girly
4. 4. Buy husband new chocolate orange

Roll on the weekend.

Plagues hit Clapham

Several things have happened recently which makes me think that my housemate have either incurred gods wrath OR one of the four horsemen has escaped from the other three and is going wild.

Firstly, a couple of weeks ago my housemate left a folder on the floor overnight. The following morning when she picked the folder up there were some maggots underneath it. This is quite random as the folder was pretty much in the middle of the floor. We concluded that the fly who laid the maggots must have been very strong to lift the folder and give birth underneath it!

The following day I was walking back from a job interview and all of Clapham was teeming with flying ants. People were accidentally hitting one another as they were trying to keep the flying ants from crawling up their noses, into their mouths etc.

Then yesterday I returned home from a days work, walked over to the window, pulled the cord on the sash blind and was promptly covered in blue bottle flies. As I said to my boyfriend later, it was like something off X-Factor (I meant X-Files but I was still a bit traumatised). Transpires that the maggots under the folder were just a break-away group from a much bigger bunch of maggots, all of which turned into flies yesterday.

I don’t like flies so trying to get rid of them was a bit of a traumatic experience. Luckily my housemate came home half way through my efforts and finished off the stragglers by hoovering them up in mid-air! Then there was much cleaning.

Now if this is God then these events are darn similar to the fourth plague that happened when Moses was about trying to free the Hebrews. This means we still have death of livestock, boils, hail and locusts amongst other things to look forward to. It’s time to sell the cow me thinks.

TOOTHPASTE

At work the other day one of my colleagues, who works on the Colgate account, was trying to figure out what you call a piece of toothpaste that you would put on a brush. We went through a few thoughts i.e. slug, bit, sample etc. We asked a pharmacist to see if there was an official name. This continued for a while.

I was just getting up to go the kitchen when the answer hit me.

“A KNOB” I yelled at the top of my voice!

Not a word was spoken for the next 5 minutes as everyone was laughing their arse off. It doesn’t help that I work in an open plan office so for most of the people I work with the only part of the conversation they heard was me standing up and yelling "A KNOB".

FIRST AID ANYONE?

At our Xmas party last night I had a conversation with one of the ladies from accounts. Our qualified first aider has recently left so the lady in question was asking me if I wanted to become the next first aider. In principle it’s a great idea as I get to go on a course for 4 days and play with bandages. However, my major concern would be that if some-one collapsed, I’d actually have to do something. I voiced this concern to my colleague from accounts. She went on to say the following.

“Well if some-one does collapse all you have to do is call an ambulance and put them in the missionary.”

This is not a position I’ve ever been in myself at work and I’m not sure it’s a place I want to go!

Happy Xmas

POLTERGEIST ATTACK - UPDATE

I wrote to the chap who set up the ghost tours to tell him of my experience in the Black Mausoleum. After a few days he wrote back to me thanking me for taking the time to write to him. He then went on to offer me complementary places on the tour should I ever be in Edinburgh again. I haven’t answered that e-mail!!

I thought the whole incident was over and behind me until Saturday night. Whilst telling the story to a friend at dinner, boyfriend displayed his usual cynicism. “You just felt ill” he said. Once we’d had the obligatory “how dare you not believe I was attacked by a poltergeist” row, he went on to say the following.

“The only thing that I can’t explain about the whole thing is the scratches that were on your back.”

WHAT!!!

Earlier in the week he’d discovered some scratches on my back. When he’d pointed them out I’d started to freak out slightly!!! Thus, he quickly changed his story to say they were just marks from my bra. However, after 2 and a half bottles of wine on Saturday night he changed his story.

So what made the scratches? Neither my hand nor boyfriends hand is big enough to have made the scratches. I’m not sure we’ll ever know…

But one thing we do know - if I need to get the truth out of boyfriend then ply him with 2 and a half bottles of wine!!!

This is the last entry on this subject. It’s giving me the eebie jeebies!

MacKenzie Frenzy in Edinburgh

Now as some of you know, I am a bit psychic (that’s kick, not co) and strange things are often happening to me, so it won’t come as any surprise for you to hear I was attacked by a poltergeist on Sunday just gone. Yes, it’s completely true. Brace yourselves for a tale of horror.

I went to Edinburgh this weekend to celebrate my housemate turning 30. I went with my lovely boyfriend (the one who had the bra on his doorstep) and a whole host of other gorgeous people. On the Sunday evening, 10 of us decided that we should do a ghost tour. I was so keen I even organised the thing!

We decided to do the ‘City of the Dead’ tour at 7:30 in the evening so that it would be dark, but still early enough that we could go for dinner afterwards. The tour took us through some of the spots in Edinburgh where the most horrific and bloody events have taken place. We even did a re-enactment of one of them - as soon as I figure out how to put pictures on here they'll be one of me as a Roman soldier!

The final parts of the tour were in Greyfriars graveyard. When I got to the graveyard I was a little apprehensive. Luckily lovely boyfriend was making himself fully available for hand holding duties so I wasn’t as scared as all the single people!!!! The final part of the tour took us into the black mausoleum which is in the Covenanters prison. The history for this piece of land is gruesome.

History lesson

If you already know this bit you can skip it. I’ve left out most of the facts and hammed up the dramatic bits to keep it interesting.

Many moons ago the Scottish Presbytarians, unhappy with the way that Charles I was running the show had yet another uprising against the English. This uprising was ruthlessly quashed, and those who did survive were sent to the Covenanters prison. There they were forced to lie face down on the floor all day until they came up for trial. There is no shelter in the Covenanters prison, so these people were open to the elements. If they stood up they were shot and probably had other horrible things happen to them as well.

The person responsible for this persecution was a chap called Bloody MacKenzie. He was a total sod and thoroughly enjoyed torturing the Presbytarians. When he finally carked it he was buried just outside the prison area where he’d carried out so much of his work.

In 1999 his grave was disturbed by a homeless drunk looking for a dry sheltered place to sleep. When I say disturbed, he actually fell through the bottom of the tomb into an illegal body dump and was discovered by the caretaker climbing out of this hole covered in slime and bones (Caretaker crapped himself as you can imagine!!)

Ever since then, there has been poltergeist activity within the Covenanters prison in the Black Mausoleum. This is odd as it’s not where Bloody MacKenzie was laid to rest, but when it comes to this sort of thing too many details just bogs you down!!!

This paranormal activity includes people being pushed, hit, scratched, burnt and knocked out. Some people have felt an invisible thing bonk them on the head. Next thing they know, they’re coming round outside. There are all of the usual cold spots etc, but the cold spots are so severe that if you don’t move you pass out.

There have been loads of investigations into this poltergeist and both dramatic changes in temperature and fluctuations in EMF readings have been taken at this site. Whether or not it’s a poltergeist can’t be conclusively said but something funny is certainly going on down there.

Shortly after the poltergeist activity started Edinburgh council closed the site to the public. The man who runs the tours saw an opportunity and asked them to re-open it for his tours. He now uses the tours as an experiment to document the poltergeist activity on the tourists. Is this legal?

Back to me!!!

As we walked through the Covenanters prison towards the black mausoleum I felt a little dread. When we went inside however I was mildly disappointed to find it was just a room!! I was expecting a large coffin with bones and blood everywhere. I stayed by the door regardless so as to ensure I didn't feel claustrophobic (I've not been claustrophobic previously but you never know!!)

For the first few minutes I was absolutely fine. After about 4-5 mins I started to feel a crushing sensation in my chest. I thought it might be because I was gripping my boyfriend too tightly so I loosened my grip. The pains continued. I then started to feel nauseous and my legs started to go weak. I was desperately trying to ignore the feelings as I didn’t want to miss out on seeing some-one being attacked by a poltergeist!! Also, I couldn’t live with the shame of being the one who did get attacked!

It got to the point where I thought I may actually be sick. I’ve been taught from a young age it’s wrong to throw up in graveyards so I made boyfriend take me outside. Once I was standing outside the mausoleum the nausea got worse and I started having pains in my stomach. By this point I felt really weak and light headed.

That part of the tour over, we started to exit the prison area (me leading the way!!). As I walked away the nausea became worse and I started to wretch, as if I was going to throw up. It was a real battle to stay upright and not throw up at this point. Once I'd walked through the gates the wretching was really bad and I started to feel a crushing sensation in my hips which started sending spasms of pain up my back. As we walked to the next part of the tour I started to feel a bit better.

Despite feeling like crap, I really enjoyed this tour – the guide was amazing. I can highly recommend that you all go on it. I myself will never be going on anything remotely similar ever again!

So what happened?

I’ve done a bit of investigating into what happened to me that night, mainly so that I can come up with a rational explanation and people will stop thinking I’m nuts. The following are possible explanations.

1. A Poltergeist attacked me
3. All of the 50 people in the mausoleum were releasing an increased number of pheromones as everybody does in a situation where fear is involved. Pheromones from one person are proven to have physical effects on others. It could be that I’m super sensitive to pheromones and being bombarded by that many at once made me ill.
3. I had a really bizarre anxiety attack (although a lot of the symptoms don’t seem to fit, but maybe I have special anxiety attacks!).

This list is not exhaustive so if you have any theories of your own please feel free to send them on to me via e-mail. If they’re abusive, I will name and shame you on the blog!!!

If I’m nuts I’m not alone

The link below will take you to the website which has other peoples’ experiences in the black mausoleum. Some of them are hilarious!!

http://www.blackhart.uk.com/cod/surv.html

BIG SHOUT OUT TO ANOTHER BLOGGER

I stole the idea to start a Blog of a mate of mine, so thought I'd send you a link to his site too. He's fabulously funny!!

http://stuffwhatihavewroted.blogspot.com/

PS It's not a cult - you can look without having to write your own blog!!!

ACHVIEMENT

I didn't finish the Disaster on the M1 story properly!

When I finally got back to boyfriends house he had run me a bath and cooked me a big bowl of curly fries with cheese.

How sweet.

To be fair though, he did send me off to the midlands in a blow up car!

HILARIOUS BRA STORY

BACKGROUND

I'm currently doing an amateur panto and the rehearsals are in a rather awkward place for me to get to (actually, it's not that awkward, it's just that I'm crap at using public transport). Also, I have to get back on my own late at night so my fabulous boyfriend insured me on his car. Unfortunately the car can only be parked outside of his house due to parking permits so when I do use the car I then end up having to either stay at his house, or walk home in the dark on my own. That boy is no fool!!!

You also need to know that there are two girls that live in the flat above boyfriends, and they share a front door.

THE STORY

It was rehearsal night so I went to boyfriends’ house straight from work to pick up the car keys. Knowing that I was going to be staying over at boyfriends’ house I had packed my overnight bag (rucksack for the less glamorous amongst you!). I got to the door step and started rummaging in the bag for the keys. I couldn’t find them so put the bag on the floor to rummage further. I then spotted a bra on the doorstep, laid out completely flat! I thought “How odd”, found my keys, stepped over the bra and went into boyfriends flat.

“Hello boyfriend” I said, “There is a bra on your front doorstep”. “Ah, that’ll be the fox” said boyfriend. It transpires that, despite being highly sophisticated city animals, the foxes in Clapham don’t wear bras. Rather, the fox drags things out of the bin to eat. The theory was that the fox had dragged the bra out of the bin in an attempt to get to some food.

So I grabbed the car keys, stepped over the bra and went on my way to rehearsals. I came back from rehearsals at about 10:30pm and the bra was still there. At this point I thought “Should I hang this bra on the inside door of the girls upstairs?” but decided against it because if the fox had dragged it out of the bin then they clearly don’t want it. I figured that they’d find it in the morning.

I went to bed, went to sleep, got up the next morning and got ready for work. Opened the front door to leave for work and the bra is still there. As it’s now daylight I decide that the bra can’t stay on the front doorstep of my boyfriends’ house. What would the neighbours think! So I bent down to pick up the bra and only then did I realise that it was my bra! It had fallen out of my bag when I was rummaging for the keys.

I took it back into the house and boyfriend washed it for me later that week. You’ll be please to know that the bra is fine and has made a complete recovery from being left on the doorstep all night!

Disaster on the M1

I was coming back from my Brothers house, having left early because I needed to get to Southfield's for 2pm for a rehearsal. I'm going down the M1 (not ragging the car as you would expect!!) when I hit a traffic jam. Transpires there had been an accident, so the motorway was pretty much stationary. I crawled past the exit slip for junction 10 and was approaching the bit of the road where the entry slip meets the motorway, in the middle lane, when all of a sudden masses of smoke poured out of the bonnet and engulfed the car. I quickly switched off the engine and proceeded to begin the very important task of panicking! Thankfully a lorry driver got out and pushed me to the side of the road. Then another lady stopped and gave me some water to put into the car, which at this point we had decided was overheating. I had no idea where to put the water, but I took it and thanked her!

Then I phoned my boyfriend who owns the car. "Boyfriend" I said "You're car is broken!!" He told me ring the AA. At this point the woman came back (oddly enough, I think she must have reversed up the hard shoulder) and a Spanish lorry driver got out to help me. The two of them figured out how to open the bonnet, and then the woman left, so the Spanish lorry driver took off the cap and put the water in the appropriate place. By this point the car had cooled so he got in and tried to start it. It wouldn't start. It wasn't until hours afterwards that it occurred to me that the immobiliser was on!! Oops!

So I asked the Spanish lorry driver to help me push the car onto the hard shoulder on the slip road which he did. His work was now done, so he grabbed hold of me, kissed me on both cheeks and ran back to his lorry!

I waited for the car to cool right down, took off the immobiliser and started the car. It started of course, but after about 5 minutes steam was starting to come out again. At this point I decided that clearly I can't drive down the M1 with steam coming out of the car so I'll get the AA to tow me away.

I rang the AA with the membership number that boyfriend had given me and was told that because boyfriend wasn't with the car they wouldn't come and get me. Transpires that it's boyfriend that is covered, not the car. They suggested that I go to one of the orange SOS boxes and call the police who would send out a garage for which I'd have to pay. I put the phone down and cried! Once I'd done that I walked down the motorway to the orange SOS box and called the motorway control room. They were lovely and tried to figure out a way I could be towed for free. We couldn't figure one out so they called a garage to come and tow me away.
Then I went back to the car and prepared to wait. I rang the bank to transfer some money so that I could afford to pay for the tow truck. The end of the conversation went thus.

Bank man "Is there anything else we can do for you Miss Cantrill"
Me "Well, if you could come to the M1 and fix my car that's broken down that
would be great!!"
Bank man "Have you rung green flag?"
Me "No. My boyfriends with the AA but it transpires that it's him that's covered
rather than the car so I'm having to call a garage out"
Bank man "Because you have an additions account you have nationwide breakdown cover
with Green Flag"
Me "Seriously"
Bank man "Yes, seriously. Would you like the number"
Me "God yes"

And so it was that green flag came, put the car on the back of the lorry and drove it back to Clapham. The motorway had been totally closed by now so we went back up the slip road and took the back routes to get to the M25. This was fabulous as we went past Whipsnade zoo so I saw some penguins, some wallabys and some Bison. Hoorah.

I got back to London at about 6pm. I'd left my destination which was 100 miles away at 11am that morning. Boo!