Day 350: Mas Benediciones Que Sean Posibles *

Bath snack

This evening, for the first time - possibly not for the last - I dropped warm custard onto my chest as I ate it, wrapped around ginger cake, in the bath. I am class. I am sophistication. I am radical. Man.

A man helped me with my case last night, heavy as a body, it was, and he took it upstairs for me on the bus and smiled all warm as he got off (a good few stops before me). That was nice. And lots of people on all kinds of different forms of transport or basic interactions in shops or in the street have been just delightful today. Really they have. I feel all blessed. Someone shouted a compliment this evening - admittedly someone who seemed a bit wired - and when I smiled and said a big 'thank you', he lost his shit, in a good way. He celebrated me saying thank you. It was really rather lovely. And then he crossed the road a bit haphazardy, and I worried for him, but it was a nice little business, that. 

Her

Also yesterday, I finished Caitlin Moran's book, How to be a Woman. I had almost planned to dislike it, but I have to say, it made me snort more times than any book I think I've ever read. She caught me off guard so many times. A nugget of just-rightness in the content of what she said, perhaps of the attitude, and so many instances of wonderful, wonderful joy in words. Words picked for the way they sit in your mouth, for the pictures they make and for the pure pleasure of how they go together to say just the thing that needs to be said. Her style reminds me of my friend's blog, which I have mentioned many times before (and no doubt will again), which is this:  http://reasonstokeeponbreathing.blogspot.com/
It's good. She has that pleasure in language, that wit, that sharpness that Caitlin Moran has. They're different too, of course, but I reckon they'd get on, those two, if they ever met. 

Yes. How to be a Woman. I really, really, really enjoyed it. It inspired me, buoyed me up, made me feel real and justified and indignant and chilled and no longer yearning quite so much to fit. I'd recommend it to anyone. Anyone want it? I'm done for now. It's going to any taker. Just give me a prod. 

Him again!

Seriously, though. I mean... how good is this man? 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qOQHB_V2g0
And by 'good', I mean joyful and skilful and talented and full of curiosity and life. And what a face. Him and Steen Haakon Hansen. They're going on my trophy wall, like stags. Best faces ever, fuelled by talent and creativity. 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81uJZIF9TCs&feature=related
This last one moved me. Little bit of a superminiweep at the end. 

And what a sweetness of a day. Up at the crack for a pitch in Luton, rehearsed for yesterday. Any acting job entails laughing. If it doesn't, it's not a job to do again. This, I'd do again tomorrow. It's all part of the 'do what you love' game, which is going well (for me at least) at the moment. The other actor (great fun, great acting partner) made me cry. Not in a 'look at you, you're shit!' way. Oh no. By telling a very moving story about his father stepping in once when he was set upon by other boys when he was a kid. He refused to let them change his route to school to avoid them. He checked if his son was okay before saying 'You can't spend your life hiding' or something along those lines. And 'Just pull yourself up and walk right through them.' Something along those lines. What made me cry was the message AND the love involved in letting your child, who you love and want to protect with all your heart, know that you trust them to be big enough to cope with the shit that happens. 

Better than this

The pitch went well. We had a laugh. The deliverers delivered. My ride was easy (you know I'd rather be doing more, but I enjoyed it anyway). And this afternoon, I got a text to say we got it. When I say we, I happily mean the company I did it for. They got the contract. Hooray! That doesn't mean I'll get the work - that's not part of the deal - but I'm delighted to have been part of the team that helped that happen. Very pleasing. Very pleasing indeed. 

Better than this, even

I saw Rob this afternoon - another case of doing what I love and wanted to do. We met near Clerkenwell when I got back from Luton. I've missed those meetings. I'd forgotten my laptop, which was unfortunate on all kinds of fronts, but it was nice just to talk, to catch up, and to eat what I think may have been the best lunch in my current memory. 

It was a burger. How can that be so groundbreaking? Oh, but it was. First of all, the 'chips' weren't chips at all. No skinny fries in this place. Oh no. They were potatoes, but small, thin, gnarled potatoes, like old farmers' fingers, chopped off and bashed around in the pan, some of them whole and others split open, showing their souls. I almost just ate all of them, with their mustardy mayo, without so much as a thought for the main attraction. 

Significantly better than this

The burger itself, then - hot and medium rare, soft, dripping with juice. The salad had all the textures and flavours anyone could need and the meat itself... oh, oh, oh. And then, to top it all IT'S ONLY HALF A BIG GHERKIN, ISN'T IT! And what a gherkin. Crisp, crunchy, fresh, like an actual cucumber, but tart as you like, pickled off the vine (or whatever it is the buggers grow on). I almost couldn't carry on. I was beside myself.  Thank you, Rob. For your conversation, your brains and your burger. So good. 

Don't steal my gherkin picture! Ooops.

A dose of Lilley magic was followed by a fabulous arrangement with a new referral... a friend of Lilley's Daniel. All very satisfying. And a continued walk up through Clerkenwell, Old Street, Goswell Road, past (and into) a hairdresser's for a haircut from a tiny, deft Italian man with a square beard and very pleasing upperwear. That's not a euphemism. His jumper rocked, and when he took it off to dry my hair (no point overheating!), his t-shirt rocked too. It was probably the most precise haircut I've ever received. I liked it. I almost had a sleep. I was a little bit tranced out. And that's all good.

A walk from Highgate. An impromptu and very lovely catch-up with Ruth. And an unplanned night in. I had two things I could have, partly should have, partly wanted to do. In the end though, the only thing that made sense was to come home and hover in and around my bed, have a bath, eat ginger cake and custard (I refer to the above) and chill the fuck out. I am so grateful for it. It was just exactly what I needed.

And here I've been. I've done a bit of 'work'. Which felt like play. I'm awake longer than I planned, and glad to be settling down for as big a sleep as I ca muster before 'viciously early' for a very cold swim. Even if I'm ill (my stinging eyes and minor aches suggest that some kind of cold or minor sore throat might be doing its struggly little best to take hold) then the water will be balm to me. It will hold me in its arms and banish all that I don't need. I'm very happy.

Damned

Oh, and even the thought of Tim Minchin as Judas made me very happy on the way up the escalator today. And I cried again. A few times. At something else. What IS going on? Whatever it is, I'm good with it. Very good. Thank you. 

* That's a speriment, that is. Not even sure if it's Actual Spanish. It's definitely a Actual Speriment, though. Strap in and see what it brings.