Cops and Meerkats

This is an extremely popular and successful series of ads for a car insurance website. They are incredibly odd and random and yet it's easy to see their appeal!

In other news, I have had 2 experiences recently that demonstrate why the London Met police are so slated over here. I'd heard that they were racist, but I didn't experience that (Australians are not usually their specific target) I have instead witnessed their incompetence!

I rang 999 the other night. I've never called an emergency number before, but there was a guy who had been buzzing my neighbour's doorbell for about 10 minutes, then someone let him in and then he went up and knocked on the door inside the building for about 15 mins! It was, of course, the one neighbour for whom I don't have a phone number so when the knocking started to sound aggressive, I called the cops. About 10 mins later, the neighbours came home and obviously let the man in, so it must have been OK, but 5 mins after that I got a call from the police saying they hadn't forgotten about me and would try to come by soon! What if I was being murdered?? I told them they didn't have to come (I was actually relieved they didn't turn up, in case the neighbours hated me) but it did seem a bit hopeless.

The next day I needed to get a certified copy of my passport to apply for Ben's visa. I went to the local police station and waited for quite a while (people kept pushing it - grrr). When I eventually spoke to the policeman at reception and asked him if he could certify a copy he said "I don't know. What do I have to do?"

"I think you just have to sign and stamp that you've seen the original."

"Well I mean I can stamp it for you, but I don't know if it would be official or nuthin."

WHAT?? Of course I need it to be official! Then he said something strange about having done something similar for South Africans before, but not Australians. What difference would it make? Maybe he was being racist towards Australians.

I went to the post office. They knew what to do and even gave me some advice when the copies I made were a bit dark.

The funniest bit is, after going to the police station I got a text message from the Met Police asking me to go to their website and fill in a survey about their performance when I'd called 999! Hilarious.

But man, I hope I never have to rely on them to rescue me.

Jesse

My lovely aunt Jesse Sherlock died last week, of cancer. Cancer is such a horrible, insidious way to die, but Jesse lived exactly the way she wanted to and was incredibly outgoing. I loved and admired her.

On the off chance that anyone reading this knew Jesse, you can donate to a fund, to preserve a part of British woodland in her name. This is the link.

Last time I saw Jesse was in January and she treated us to a wonderful evening at a pub in Scagglethorpe (the BEST name for a town EVER! Like something out of The Lord of the Rings!)

And Fliss and I are thinking of you Mum, and of Cissy and everyone else who loved her.

Finally!

The prison film has finally been given the absolutely, iron-clad, definite go-ahead. Hoorah! (and phew - I was starting to get just a TAD nervous about it). I quit the Barbican because I knew the project was funded, so I assumed it was green lit, but then we had to get permission from the Ministry of Justice and it took about 3 weeks. But I got the call today and it's all go.

For the last 3 weeks I've just been waiting, not just for the prison film but am waiting for actors to respond on 2 feature film projects and also waiting to hear about a job application. At least now I can get into a project properly rather than just waiting!

Got my British drivers license in the post yesterday. Somehow that feels even more official and important than the passport!

Anyway. I'm off to drink some cider to celebrate the fact that I do actually have the job that I thought I had but then wasn't so sure!

Lucky charms?

For some reason we always have ladybugs in our flat. Not sure why, but they're everywhere! I hope they're as lucky as people say.

Trying to buy a present for Ben's birthday today, which has proven to be difficult. How do you choose an object to put in the post that is interesting and has meaning and says "I love you"? Keeping in mind that he already has an iPhone.

Mitwoch

Seeing as I haven't left the house for about 2 weeks and have not attempted any exercise since the theft of my bike (grrr) I made myself go to Pilates last night. Sadly the teacher that I used to love is no longer there (come back Emily D!) and although the new teacher was perfectly nice 2 new yoga schools have now opened up even closer to my house so I might explore them! What a trendy, yuppy area I must live in, with at least 3 yoga schools!

My main job at iceandfire this week has been to try and find interviewees for new projects, including British people who are living in poverty and Australians/NZs/Canadians/Americans who are living and/or working illegally in London. We have a script about undocumented migrants, The Illegals, but that focused on the people you would expect - Africans and Latin Americans - but the majority of illegals workers in England are actually white westerners. If you know anyone who would talk to us (completely anonymously and confidentially) then let me know.

Things also seem to be moving with World of Chickens, although I'm not going to hold my breath. At the moment I have 2 films that are supposedly shooting at the same time, but the chances of either one of them actually making it are so slim that I'm happy to go along with it.

Spoke to Chels yesterday - she's about to move in with a Scientologist! I'm so impressed. A Scientologist in LA. I'm hoping Chels can investigate and find out the secrets of their inner circle...

PS: The title of this post is Wednesday in German, but I don't know how to spell it!

Thurs/Fri Update

Back on track now. Up to the present.

Thursday night I went to an event organised by BECTU, the media & entertainment union. It was a discussion on the future of TV drama in the UK, featuring two big names in British television, Charles Sturridge and Tony Garnett. They were both great - so eloquent and interesting. I also loved the fact that, although they were both very critical of how the TV networks are being managed over here (especially the BBC) they were also positive and hopeful about the future. Whenever I've been to similar events in Australia they would always end up being really depressing, all doom and gloom, but this was still inspirational despite the criticism and disappointment at the current climate. I wanted to talk to Charles Sturridge afterwards - it was a small, intimate atmosphere so I felt confident going to speak to him - but he seemed to disappear fairly quickly after the talk, unfortunately. I did meet some other good people though, including a director from Melbourne who has been working in TV here for about 7 years. She has offered to have coffee with me so that I can pick her brains. She works in factual but might still know some good people and be able to offer advice.

Was invited to 2 events last night - a party and a concert - and ended up piking on both of them! The concert was a composer I didn't know and it started to piss with rain just before I had to leave, so I cancelled (my friend had been given free tix, so I didn't screw her over too much!) and I'm blaming Chelsea for missing the party, because we skyped for over an hour! Although we all know that it's not actually Chelsea's fault, that I was glad for the excuse!

It's starting to cool down here although the weather is still generally pretty good. Some rain this week but it's supposed to be sunny the next few days. Global warming is doing wonders for London!

x

Chapters 5 & 6

So on to Chapter 5. A bit later than I promised. My new housemate is... Felicity! Yes, little sis has moved in. She finished at Arsenal in June then went on holiday for 4 weeks (to Spain - poor thing!) but when she got back she struggled to get a job. Being unemployed, I offered for her to move into our small room so she could avoid rent until she could afford it again. She has now been offered a job back at Arsenal, so she is working there until she goes back to Melbourne in December. Arsenal really needed her back, so Fliss is enjoying being the person who came to their rescue!

Chapter 6: My crap week. It started with my new bike being stolen... from inside my apartment building! Yes, the one Ben bought me for my birthday. It lasted 2 1/2 weeks. Bikes are just really hard to hold onto in London! I was so pissed off, am still really annoyed actually. I was enjoying riding my bike around. I put in a police report and everyone said to go and look at Brick Lane market, where a lot of stalls sell second hand bikes, but I haven't found it yet. *sigh*

Then the day after my bike got stolen I had the 11 hour shift from hell at the Barbican! In the whole time I've worked there I've never needed to call security or the medic, or even call the manager to sort out an issue, but I had to do all 3 on my last shift! I was looking after the cloakroom at a wedding and the patrons got SOOO drunk. They weren't allowed to take drinks outside while they smoked, but we had to tell them about every 5 minutes. They started sneaking drinks outside under their coats, in their jackets and bags. They only had to put it down for 3 minutes, but apparently that was too much to ask. One gentleman, upon being asked (by me) if he could please leave his drink inside said "What is this, the Third Reich?" To which I replied "Are you calling me a Nazi??"

Later in the evening, there was a fist fight between patrons (thus security was called), then some drunk guys picked up their mate and dropped him on a terracotta pot, knocking him out cold (medic) and my manager caught them doing cocaine OUTSIDE OFF THE PAVEMENT! So wrong. It was the longest shift of my life.

Then I got rejected by 2 agents. One of them, to be fair, liked me and my work but said to get back in touch when things had progressed further because he doesn't have any contacts he would consider useful to me at this stage in my career. AND my rent got taken out before I got paid by iceandfire, so in the middle of my crap week I had £18 in the bank! It's better now though.

I've just drawn a line under that week. Moving onwards and upwards. I hope.

Chapter 4: New job!

I had started to despair over the summer about ever being able to quit my job at the Barbican. I resented them somewhat less when I found out they were going to pay us the London living wage (there's been a big union push for councils/boroughs to pay the London living wage, as opposed to the British award minimum, because it costs so much more to live in London than anywhere else in the country).

There was one good thing about the Barbican job, which ironically came out of the worst ever shift (which I talked about in an earlier post) During the dreadful Carpark 5 shift, I met Graham Sheffield, Artistic Director of the Barbican. I chatted to him briefly, and the next day I cheekily sent him an email about iceandfire's season at the Edinburgh Fringe. A couple of weeks later he wrote back and said he'd like to come, and he did! Christine saw him in the audience, shaking his head and tutting in the appropriate places (it's a show to make you angry!) So I then sent Graham another email after the festival was over and asked if he would meet with iceandfire to discuss a potential collaboration. Not only does iceandfire fit many of the Barbican's artistic aims/vision (as discussed at some Barbican staff meetings) but Graham is also on the board of advisors for freedom of speech organistion Index on Censorship, whose editor is on OUR board! And they have commissioned one show from us and we are working with them on another.

Anyway, on a fateful day about 3 weeks ago, Graham's PA got back to me and said he was keen to meet and talk about a collaboration. Very exciting for us - the meeting is in a few weeks (late Oct) and the Barbican is definitely the most high profile venue/arts collaborator we have spoken to. About one hour after receiving this excellent email, I had a phone call. From Inside Job Productions, with whom I made the prison film in May, offering me another job! A more long-term project, to take me (working part-time) til late February!

So I feel like I must have been working at the Barbican for a reason. Putting up with the less-than-generous pay and unexciting work in order to get this meeting for iceandfire with Graham Sheffield... then the universe rewarded me by allowing me to quit!

My final shift at the Barbican was another doozy though. I'll go into more details in the Crappy Week chapter...!!

Chapter 3: Birthday/Ben leaving

My birthday in early September was Ben's last day in London. The Sunday before my Tues birthday I had a pub lunch with some friends and family (Mum and Dad were over, from late Aug to mid Sept). My previous housemates didn't realise it was lunch, however, and after we had all gone back to our place for cake and tea I got a call from them demanding that I go back out to the pub and have a drink with them! It was very nice to see them though.

On the day itself, Ben took me to buy a bike. We went to this lovely shop in Victoria Park that recycles bikes and builds custom-designed bikes for disabled people. Then we walked through the park, a whole section I have never seen before (it is a huge park!) and we saw deer and numerous squirrels. In the evening we went to dinner with my parents and Fliss at a nice Sardinian restaurant nearby. It was lovely, but knowing that Ben was leaving the next day I started to get a bit weepy by the end of the evening and just wanted to spend time with him. Ben left early the next day, I couldn't go with him to the airport because I had to work. I walked him to the street, where he said I should go back inside. I watched him from the window as he trudged to the bus with his backpack. I won't see him until Christmas, a 3 1/2 month parting, the longest so far.

Chapter 2: Portugal

I have already put some photos up of our Portugal trip. We flew into Faro, which is on the south coast near the border with Spain, and stayed in Tavira, a small town about 40 mins away by train.

Had an incredible flight over though, sitting next to this odd woman. She was reading the Daily Mail, so alarm bells went off early, but at first she was just talking about her health and other less-than-interesting subjects. Then she picked up the paper. Front page was news of the Lockerbie bomber being released back to Libya (not sure if you got this news in Aus) and the crowds in Libya waving flags and cheering as this man got off the plane. This woman shook her head. "These people would have us all wiped off the face of the earth. Look at them!" I made vaguely reassuring noises but didn't really say anything. "They come over here, talking about human rights..." Ben did nothing to help me. He sunk into his book. Eventually the woman asked what I did for a living and I took a deep breath. "I work for a human rights organisation" I said. Thus we started a debate.

What was interesting though, was that the debate was quite enjoyable. She never got personal or nasty, often referring to how much she was enjoying the debate and how much she liked me. Eventually she tried to bait Ben into the conversation, asking what he did. When she found out Ben was interested in history she told us we should go to Spain, to the north, where there are the oldest universities in the world. "Yes, built by Muslims" Ben told her. "No... Really?" The Moors, Ben informed her. Eventually she nodded "But those Muslims were different to these ones with the..." (she mimed the burkha).

She herself, Brenda, was a British aristocrat living in Portugal (she wasn't willing to confront the irony of an ex-Pat Brit being anti-immigration) with an incredible family history and so many stories to tell. Her niece, who is married to some Hollywood special effects artist, and when Brenda went to her wedding she sat next to "Oh what was his name, George Kukas I think? Short, Jewish man." "George LUCAS??" "That must be him. And some Francis Coppola fellow." She had no idea who they were, although she did seem to know that they were impressive names to drop! Also some crazy relative of hers who was a strict vegan with six degrees and lived in a sprawling mansion with, among other things, a Romany sword encrusted with diamonds and rubies laying around. Some great great uncle had been the Duke of Wellington's right hand man and had taken this sword from Napoleon himself, who had taken it from the Russians!

Arriving in Faro, Brenda showed us where to catch the bus. The public transport in southern Portugal worked well, but was infrequent. The train from Faro to Tavira only took 40 minutes but only arrived every 2 hours! We missed one so we sat in Faro and ate cheese sandwiches and drank beer. A typical menu in Portugal seemed to be: cheese toastie, ham toastie, cheese + ham toastie, cheese baguette, ham baguette, cheese + ham baguette. Arriving in Tavira we had another ex-Pat Brit show us to our hotel, a lovely softly-spoken man named Brian. He gave us his number and we intended to call him on our trip, but in the end we just wanted to spend time the two of us.

Tavira was an excellent place for a holiday where I just needed to do nothing much of the time (especially after Edinburgh). It's a small town, attractive although run down. It meant that we didn't feel the need to rush out and see many sites, we could just stay in and read a book if we felt so inclined. To go to the beach, we had to catch a ferry (Tavira is on a river) with these grumpy old Portuguese men with leathery skin. It was only a 15 minute trip, and very pleasant, but the way back would often get very crowded on board (I don't think there are strict maritime rules in Tavira, the old men seemed to pack everyone on!)

One day we did venture out to see a Moorish castle which had been the subject of crusader attacks in the 12th Century (no prizes for guessing whose idea it was...) We caught the train out to the middle of nowhere, somewhere inland. It was really hot, 33-35 C, and we had no map and no idea where the castle was. We just trudged, following some road signs that pointed (we hoped) to the town. Eventually we came to the top of a hill, there was very little around in terms of houses or shops, and we finally could see the main town, and the castle that dominated it. We made our way up there and it was in excellent condition, a fine castle specimen. There was little else in the town though and so we were keen to not miss our train back, or else we would have to wait more than 2 hours in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a hot day. Thankfully we got to the station with a few minutes to spare and made the 1 1/2 hour trip home, our legs sticking to the seats of the unairconditioned carriage.

There was also a castle in Tavira itself, not a very big one but very beautiful, with a garden in the middle. There was a lovely restaurant next to it, so on our final night we went and ate next to the 12th Century castle, on top of a hill, looking over the town, in the candlelight. Quite romantic, if I do say so myself.

Chapter 1: Edinburgh

iceandfire did the Edinburgh Fringe for the first time in August, taking our show Rendition Monologues for a one week run. I went up for 4 days.

The Edinburgh Fringe Festival was crazy. The festival itself was much as I expected - a similar vibe to the Adelaide Fringe (the 2nd biggest fringe in the world I believe) or the Melb Comedy Festival - but doing a show was exhausting. Constant promotion and plugging. You can't just build up to opening night and then relax once it's over. After opening night drinks you have to go back out there, with flyers, and hassle people to come to your show.

I think I found it especially hard because it's the first play that I've worked on (for more than one performance - iceandfire's outreach project usually only does one-off shows) where I wasn't creatively involved. So my job was to deal with the stress and promote the show but without getting any kind of adrenaline rush when the show went well. I wasn't onstage performing, or sitting in the audience enjoying a show that I directed and gauging the audience's reaction.

That said, the show did go pretty well. We got an average audience of 60 per show - compared with an average audience of about 6 for most shows - and we got a 5 star review from WhatsOnStage, plus a nice review in the Scotsman as well. Sadly the reviews came out the day before our last show, so not much time to bring in an audience! Oh well. That was part of the learning curve.

The other big lesson came from the rubbish PR company that we hired, who seemed to do absolutely nothing. Perhaps they did plenty, but they certainly didn't tell us about it. I sent them at least 6 emails asking them to be specific about who they had contacted with a press release and invited to opening night and they would always reply with vague responses like "We are talking to our contacts. Peace." I swear, he signed off every email with the word "peace". The company's only advice while we were actually there at the festival was to get the cast to go out to the cool bars and get photographed with celebrities! When I asked "why?" he said it was for the media. But why would the media care about a photo of 5 guys they don't know standing next to someone they maybe do?? Who is going to print that? These guys DIDN'T EVEN COME TO OUR OPENING NIGHT!! I was furious.

So we did get some OK media, but it all came from me. I didn't even know anyone in Edinburgh, that was why we hired a PR company. They got us one radio interview on local Edinburgh radio. We threatened to not pay the second half of their fee (not sure if Christine gave in eventually) but they STILL didn't produce any evidence that they had done anything. They said they had some but refused to hand it over. Wankers.

But next time we'll know better!

Email me if you want to know the name of the company so that you don't ever waste £1000.

Task for the weekend

I am officially nominating myself in the Worst Blogger of 2009 competition. In the "just plain lazy/crap" category. Not in the "inciting racial hatred" category or anything.

So quite a lot to talk about. I think I'm going to do this in chapters based on significant events of the past 2 1/2 months or so...

1) Edinburgh

2) Portugal

3) Birthday/Ben leaving (a bitter/sweet chapter)

4) New job (sweet!)

5) New housemate (you'll have to wait and see...)

6) My crap week last week (just plain bitter)

Think that's most of it. The list is more for me than for you (I don't know if anyone still bothers to read this, considering how inconsistent I am!) I'm going to try and write about all of the above over this weekend. In chronological order.