...Think, Think, Think...

Poles Apart

Last weekend, I went to see an awesome play called Poles Apart. I realise that approximately 1/3rd of my readership already know this because they were either watching the play with me, or they were in it.

I don't often meet other bloggers.  In fact there isn't anyone in my real life that even writes a blog themselves, although one friend is thinking about it.  He'd be a great blogger, he's the coolest person I know by a long shot.

A month or so ago Ellie from The Daily Smoke suggested that we meet up to see fellow blogger Daniel Hoffman-Gill in his play, Poles Apart.  I had what can only be described as a complete fucking whore of a month with one thing or another, but I did manage to get myself together and get a ticket booked.

On the day of the show, I texted Ellie in the morning and she said that she'd be meeting Rashbre, another blogger in the Commercial Tavern at 5:30pm with a view to getting something to eat before the show.  Rashbre is a blogger who I was aware of but I'd never really read his blog (he's in my google reader now but as I'm about a week behind I still haven't really read his blog!  But I will!). 

Its an interesting thing, meeting people off the internet.  Especially when those people blog anonymously.  You never really know what to expect.  You have an idea of their character but no idea what they look like or sound like.

I decided (in my total lack of wisdom) that I'd meet them via Oxford Street so that I could do a bit of Christmas shopping.  EPIC fail there.  You're shuffling along, stuck behind tourists who seem fascinated at the window displays and don't stop to think for a second that there are people with things to do and places to be.  I managed Debenhams, Selfridges and Ann Summers before I gave up.  Oddly enough, Ann Summers was the only shop wtih any breathing room.  I guess crotchless knickers don't feature on that many people's christmas lists.

I moved at a snail's pace back towards Bond Street Tube station and headed in the direction of Liverpool Street.  On my journey I tried to work out what everyone would look like.   Not easy.

It turned out that in the time it took me to get from Bond St to Liverpool St the heavens had opened and it was absolutely pouring down.  This meant that I had to juggle an umbrella, two bags of shopping (paper  carrier bags...which are of course, not waterproof) and Google Maps on the iPhone to try and work out where on earth the pub was.  For 20 minutes I wandered around, noting that the city looks a lot different at night than during the day. It was also slightly weird not following my boss - thats what I usually do in the city.  He knows where we're going and so I totter behind him (client meetings = silly shoes). Eventually, I gave up and got a cab.  

The pub itself seemed quite unusual.  From the outside, I wasn't really sure a - if it was open and b - how exactly to get in as none of the doors looked like a "main" door.  I worked it out and wandered through the extremely dim lighting towards my party - Ellie, Rashbre, Melanie and John.

We left the pub straight away and went to Brick Lane for some eats and Rashbre very kindly filled me in as to some of the local history as I'd never really been to East London before. After being accosted by the locals, we settled on what was pretty much the first indian restaurant we came to.  We were promised freebies that I'm sure we didn't get, but you could make an absolute killing if you were vigilant about getting what they offered!

We had a fairly quick meal as we were cutting it slightly fine to get to the theatre on time, but we still had time to chat and sort of scope eachother out.  I had no idea what Rashbre would be like but he was extremely warm and friendly.  He gave me a copy of his book which I've made a start on but I'm a notoriously slow reader so it may take me a while!  Melanie and John were very sweet but I didn't get much of a chance to get to know them (John's blog is also now in the reader to be caught up on!).  Ellie is what can only be described as effortlessly beautiful.  She was shorter than I'd imagined, but she's one of those people that glows.

Cobra..or maybe Tiger beers and a curry later, we're on our way to the theatre.  I was glad that everyone else knew where we were going because I had absolutely no idea.  Set me down in the West End and I'm fine, I can get wherever I need to go.  Anywhere else in London?  No.  I don't worry about getting lost so much, because I know that if you walk in a straight line for long enough you'll find a tube station, but when I've got to be somewhere I like to know exactly where I'm going.

Rich Mix on Bethnal Green Road is quite a nice venue.  Poles Apart was playing up on the 4th floor and it was a lovely space.  Probably only seats for 100 and so you're right on top of the action.  As I've mentioned before, I love that.

The play was, in my opinion, brilliant.  I spend far too many evenings at home and the utter crap on TV slightly astonishes me when I'm reminded that there are intelligent, funny, talenter writers and performers out there who don't get the recognition they should.

As well as being very funny - laugh out loud funny, in fact - the story had a point.  These two men, instead of blindly going with the masses who rant "these bloody foreigners, coming over here, stealing our women and our jobs, they have it easy" decided that they would find out for themselves what it is really like to be an immigrant, not speaking the language, not knowing anyone. Off they went to Poland, with a comically translated letter, in search of employment.  Turns out, its not that easy.

I learned so many interesting things during the show - I had no idea how badly the Polish were affected during the war.  Of course I knew they were invaded at the beginning of WW2 (the fact was reinforced by the Fawlty Towers episode "The Germans") but I had no idea how hard they fought and how much they lost.  Its utterly tragic.

There were also some hilarious send ups of Nick Griffin - the man is a joke after all, so why not take advantage of that.

Reading his blog recently, DHG said that the show we saw may have been the last time that Poles Apart is performed, which hits me with both a sense of joy that I got to see it before the run ended but also with sadness that so many people will have missed out on such an entertaining, informative and downright funny show.

Thank you Ellie, Rashbre, Melanie and John for a lovely evening and great conversation, and thank you Daniel for a great performance and a wonderful, thought-provoking show.

To Do Today... / Christmas Decoration Trauma

Full list of actions to be taken to secure my status as Domestic Goddess/functioning member of society (for today at least).  In no particular order:

• Review of Poles Apart and lovely meeting with fellow bloggers
• Tidy House
• Bake - mint chocolate shortbread and homemeade mince pies
• Put up Christmas decorations
• Write Christmas cards
• Make shopping list for presents I still need to buy
• Assignment x 2 for courses I have ignored for almost 8 months
• Small amount of form filling for work, even though I'm meant to be on holiday

So far I have done none of these things.

I went out and bought a Christmas tree, lights and decorations.  The first lot of fairy lights did not work.  I find this out after I've wound all 100 of them around the tree.

I take these back for replacements.  I get home, feeling all clever in thinking I'll plug them in while I'm putting them on the tree so I know that they work. 

They do work.  For about 10 minutes.  Then... nothing.  Not even one little fairy light.  Unplug, replug, check for loose bulbs.  Darkness.

I can't put any more decorations onto the tree until I know whats happening with the lights.  Problem is I've now reached "christmas decoration apathy" and it can all just sod off. 

I realise this is probably my own fault.  These are Poundstretcher lights and you know what they say - buy cheap, buy often. But, I have another set of 50 from there that works fine, I just can't seem to make 50 go around the whole tree.

I will get to all the other stuff, but I now just can't be arsed.  Christmas is just so draining.

If you want to be psychotic, thats totally fine but..

...don't drag me into it.

I've had one of those weeks this week.  The kind of week where I learn things about myself that I'd never been really aware of before.I've now fully established my position on trust.  They say that trust has to be earned but I don't work like that.  I seem to make an instant judgement.  Either I trust you from the off, or I don't and I never will.

Thats not to say that I don't mak bad calls.  There are times where people do things that mean they drop down on the trustability scale and it always upsets me a little bit.  I'm always slightly saddened by makng a bad call and by feeling that I'd been let down.

Naturally I realise that this is my own doing.  I am the creator of these situations and therefore shouldn't really complain.  Still, this is my blog and I'll whinge if I want to, whinge if I want to.  You'd winge too if it happened to you.  Okay, maybe you wouldn't but the Lesley Gore reference was too easy to pass up.

So, here's the story.  One of the stories of fucked-upness that I've been subject to this week.

I have a work colleague on my facebook.  Not someone from my office, a client.  Nice guy,  seemed relatively stable.  Smart enough, bit flirty, but taken.  Stable girlfriend etc.  Nothing between us other than a bit of banter.

We'd had the odd conversation on Facebook and last sunday, he's online and I say hi.  I ask how his weekend was and he said it had been a bit up and down, he'd had some girlfrind issues.  The conversation sort of flows around that.  He'd done something stupid that wasn't cheating and she'd found out.  Her ex had always flirted with other girls and he promised he'd never do that and he did and now he didn't know what he was going to do without her.  He didn't want to be on this planet without her...and other various overly-dramatic statements.

I didn't think much of it, although its always slightly worrying when you're talking to someone who's saying such things so I just gave the best advice I could and tried to suggest avoiding as many cliches as possible.  At the end of the conversation, he asked if she could read what we'd written.  I said I didn't mind, but not to force her to read it because its not necessarily going to be what she wants to see, innocent or not.  It seemed slightly weird, but whatever.

And that was pretty much that.  It did leave me wondering whether I'm just astonishingly laid back about these sort of things, or whether I've just become accustomed to involvements with men who flirt.  Generally, it doesnt bother me.  Its what men do.  Its biological, they can't help it.  Other than that though, I didnt give it much thought.  He was out of the office the monday and so I didn't speak to him.

So here's where things get fucked up.

Tuesday, he calls in at work to speak to me.  He actually asked to hold while I finished up another call.  When he got put through, the first thing he did was apologise for the previous conversation.

Not uncommon.  People often apologise for outbursts of emotion - I've done it myself.  Except thats not what he was apologising for.

"That wasn't me. It was my girlfriend..."

Insert stunned silence here. 

"..so yeah, if you ever see me on Facebook its not me.  Its her."

How did you find out that she'd done it?

"Oh I was there...I told her not to, but she did it anyway."

Right.  I see.  Well, thats safely one of the most psychotic things I've been party to in ages.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that.  I just wanted to apologise."

Yeah...apologise.  Right.  The entire conversation, not him.  My valuable advice - a pointless waste of time.  Not a real conversation.  I bet you can guess how annoyed I am can't you?  I bet you can guess how much I like being used as a pawn in other peoples fucked up little games?

Thats right boys and girls; I don't fucking like it one little bit.

I realise I'm perhaps dwelling heavily on something insignificant, but frankly who the fuck is she to use me to test her boyfriend?  Sorry darling, but if you don't trust him take it up with him, don't drag other people into it.

I don't have the energy to go into the other things that have pissed me off this week - mostly because the sum is greater than their parts and has totally drained me.  Hopefully next week will be better.

An Open Letter to a Man Who Doesn't Appreciate What He Has

Dear You,

We've kept in touch off and on since we dated a couple of years ago.  I'm no fool, I know what you want. 
Every few weeks if you haven't heard from me you text, calling me honey or baby and asking how I am.  You use that as a thinly veiled excuse to ask if I'm single.  I am.  I think I will be for a while.  I'm not ready to be involved after what happened the last time.  My blind faith has eyestrain and needs a rest. 

You suggest we meet up.  You never really think about how far away you live and how although I can do that journey in a couple of hours, I don't really want to go that far and back on a work night.  Stay over, you suggest, but its too far to commute into the office in the morning.  You've never come up here to see me.  even when we dated you never bothered.  It was always about convenience for you and thats why you're still in touch.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" I asked a while ago.  I'm paraphrasing but your answer came along the lines of, "Yes, but she's not as dirty as you are."  Dirty being the label for a woman who isn't afraid of her sexuality.  Since then, you've shamelessly been trying to get me to come and see you.

I caved in November and we had lunch.  All of an hour before you had to go back to work.  You hadn't changed much.  Still the same.  Over-confident.  Thinking you'd got me all figured out.  Cocky enough to ask "Where's my kiss?" and I kissed you.  But I didn't feel anything.  No warmth, nor any desire to continue down that path.

During lunch you avoided the topic of your girlfriend when I asked.  I was only doing it to make you feel uncomfortable.  I think it worked.  You said that we were "mates" and we didn't have to sleep together.  A few days later you text me again, asking to see me for "some fun."  I reminded you that you've got a girlfriend for that.  You come back with a reply that you're almost single, not understanding that being single is like being pregnant; either you are, or you're not.

You didn't realise that two years have changed me.  Before I was a victim (I use that word in the loosest possible sense) of the game.  Now, if needs be, I can be a player.  You think that I don't realise that you're spinning lines.  I know you don't realise that I've been subject to more skilled players than you, both on the receiving end and watching from the sidelines. 

Just before christmas you sent another text, asking to see me before christmas.  Then between christmas and new year you told me you were going to be away for new year but that you'd see me when you got back. 

A few weeks go by and your new year pictures are on facebook.  For a man who is almost single, you looked remarkably happy and cosy with your girlfriend.

This past week, you text me again to tell me I've been quiet.  I replied that I've been busy at work and mentioned how cosy your new year pictures looked.  You're so brazen that you replied "Yeah, it was a good time.  When can you fit me in?"

I don't know the ins and outs of your relationship.  Maybe everything is on the rocks, but I can't see that for a minute from the couple of hundred cosy pictures of you two together.  I feel for her.  She probably has no idea.  By the same token, I feel for you for a couple of reasons.  Firstly, because you're too stupid to see when you're risking a good thing.  Secondly, because I'll toy with you like a kitten with a ball of wool as long as you allow me to.

I'm not vengeful by any stretch.  But you see, I'm better than being your whore.  If you're not smart enough to work that out and to perhaps assign a little more worth to people, you'll get everything you deserve.

I should clarify, I don't wish you any ill will.  I just wish that you'd realise how lucky you are to have someone and how stupid that you are that you'd jeopardise that for the sake of a lay. 

Lots of Love

Beth