Christmas, and hello again!

So I'm back home for Christmas and for the last few days have been in a baileys stupor. It's been grand.

I know this is my first post in a while. My attention has mainly been focused on university and completing all my modules. I'll upload all the completed drafts when I have access to a computer.

In all honesty I've felt creatively stunted as of late. Anything I write I immediately regard it as a load of boring twaddle.

I also want to start making things; to be creative rather than dribbling away on the sofa watching cheaters and eating fried chicken.

With this in mind I vow to start spending my time doing actual, real life things (hello new years resolutions). So hopefully, if all goes to plan, I'll be able to start regularly updating this blog with interesting content. Fingers crossed.

So, other than that, you wanna see what I got for Christmas? Yeah you do! Of course you do!

Adios x

Fifty Shades of Grey by E L James

This book is so badly written that I have in fact highlighted the parts which I find the most offensive. Let’s begin shall we? 

“Why don’t you like to be touched?” I whisper, staring up into his soft grey eyes. 

“Because I’m fifty shades of fucked up, Anastasia” page 269

This is in fact the first time the term “fifty shades” is mentioned in the whole book. No, the title is not some clever reference; it is in fact just him being a pretentious twat. E L James repeats this term several times throughout the whole book, probably because she thought it sounded so deep and she wanted everyone to know just exactly how deep and dark and mysterious Christian Grey really is.

Christian Grey is not deep, he is an arse. A terrible, pretentious arse who cares far too much about other people’s eating habits and really should be focusing on his career instead of stalking some boring cretin. I bought this book because, like everyone else, I was lead to believe that Mr Grey is the epitome of sexiness, I was thoroughly disappointed.

As for our protagonist, Anastasia Steele, I may be sick with rage because of how dull, annoying and just downright terrible she really is. This is the kind of girl who gives her sub-conscious and inner-goddess (whatever the hell that is) personalities. If I wanted to read a book about multiple personality disorder I’d read Fight Club, at least then I wouldn’t be so inclined to stamp the book into the ground out of the pure hatred I had for them.  “Surely she can’t be that bad?” I hear you say:

 “I KNOW WHAT HE’S REALLY LIKE- YOU DON’T!” page 352

Moving on, let’s discuss the sex part. Now here is where E L James writing flourishes and actually becomes fairly decent, you can tell she’s in her element (the dirty cow). However what I can’t get my head around is why she would think this would turn anyone on:

“Your ass will need training.” page 256

Literally the most un-erotic thing I have ever read. She also seems to find it necessary to repeat “The Contract” several times.

Ah yes, The Contract, about as interesting to read as the iTunes Terms and Conditions.  It’s basically a list covering all the details involved with having sex with Christian Grey and he thinks it’s appropriate to shove this, this creepy, boring contract, right in Anastasia’s stupid little face. If this had happened in real life the girl would have looked up at him, fear in her eyes, and slowly realised she was dealing with a sexual predator.

There are in fact a lot of choice mistakes, particularly with wording, which I believe someone should have pointed out to E L James during the editing process, however seeing that one of the editors was her own husband he probably wanted to avoid a shit-storm, “Of course that works honey! Oh you’re just so good at writing!” Luckily I’m here to point them out for her:

“I steal into the bathroom, bewildered by my lack of underwear” page 332

“He grins a wide, white-toothed smile at Kate, and she almost literally dissolves into the couch” page 306

Almost literally. ALMOST. LITERALLY. 

And you know what? Despite this, despite all the continuity errors, the poor choice of words, the absolutely terrible characters and just down right bad writing, I still got hooked. By the last 200 pages I just couldn’t put it down, I can’t even explain why, I imagine it’s how grossly overweight people feel, devouring more and more shit until you lose all reasoning. I just had to know how it was all going to play out; will they be together in the end? What deep, dark secrets is he hiding? How are they gonna fuck this time?

And you know what, I’m gonna buy the second book, I have to buy the second book. And I shall clasp it to my chest and weep at my own inadequacy as I realise I have given my hard earned money to such a terrible, terrible author.

tl:dr – Creepy rich weirdo hunts down and beats up some boring ass girl.

kindle

The Death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave

“Where are you going?” she says and smiles at Bunny. “We’re so outta here,” says Bunny Junior, who has found himself a pair of shades. He cocks his thumb at the Punto sitting in the car park. “Like, gone.”

I finally got round to using my HMV gift voucher to treat myself to a few books. Enticed by the blurb and ominous title I decided to buy "The Death of Bunny Munro" for a mere two pounds and trust me, it was worth every penny. (I'm aware that due to the low price this isn't much of a compliment but it should be taken as one.)

The book follows Bunny Munro, a sensual glutton, thrust into the responsibility of looking after his only son following the death of his long suffering wife.

Nick Cave's writing is flawless. This fact in itself is a little sickening since not only is he an excellent writer but also the lead singer of the critically acclaimed band "Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds" described by NME as "a gothic psycho-sexual apocalypse".

I am almost tempted to dismiss the man altogether (grossly successful people disgust me and make me feel small and insignificant) however I will let it slide this time due to the fact he managed to write a book which successfully glamorised the British seaside, a near impossible task.

"Glamorised" is perhaps not the right word, it's too tacky for that, he made it sexy. Bunny Munro himself is sexy, in a sordid, filthy, evil way. This makes the book excellent reading since there is nothing better than a nasty protagonist that seduces and shocks you. I found myself calling out "No, Bunny, no!" whilst reading some of his particularly nasty deeds. 

Bunny's abrasive character is contrasted well by his son, the strange and endearing Bunny Junior. Cave manages to create a convincing voice for a child with his simplistic logic and an eerie naivety in the face of horrendous traumas. Following the pair together as they come to terms, in their own way, with the death of mother and wife, it gives the novel a heart rather than just being a glib shock story. 

I highly recommend popping into HMV and finding this book. I highly recommend popping into HMV anyway since it's an absolute goldmine for cheap yet surprisingly spectacular books but I'll be nice and include links for where you can buy the book online.

tl;dr - Sleazy dad with a stupid quiff takes his crusty eyed son on a road trip so he doesn't have to think about his dead wife.

hmv

kindle

Monday morning at Hamleys

As I walked to Hamleys I thought to myself it was quite peculiar that I now worked in Regent Street. I imagine dropping it in conversation, leaning against the wall of a very hip and trendy London bar, peering out of my Louis Vuitton sunglasses at the simpletons that surround me, each one drawn in by my dazzling presence. "Oh, well." I would purr, dragging on a cigarette and taking time with my words, letting them hang on to each lazily drawn out syllable; "It's just London you know."

"You're too early."

I and another over-eager inductionee, Dan, stood helplessly in front of the unnecessarily large desk that swamped the receptionist. It was difficult not to notice the odd quirks of the head office, the circus-esuqe mirrors that wave in and out mounted on the walls, the waiting area made up entirely of faux-gold thrones and the Barbie attached to the door of the women's toilets. "There's a Ken on the boys too." Lola would later tell us. We weren't allowed to wait in the reception on the thrones for some reason so instead we passed the time trying to find a can of Diet Coke on Regent Street (which is surprisingly hard.)

When we got back all the other inductionee's had taken the thrones and I must admit I'm still a little bit bitter about this. Eventually we were all led into the room where for the next two hours Lola, our inductioner, would teach us everything there is to know about Hamleys. For example, did you know that forty nine million, four hundred and twenty thousand, eight hundred bubbles are blown in the store each year? I didn't. I do now. Then she lead us out of the room to give us a tour of the entire shop, "Don't get distracted guys." was repeated several times.

I did not listen to a single thing she said the entire tour. It was incredibly difficult since we were walking past magicians, a Lego version of the royal family and a frosted pink room entirely dedicated to the whims and wishes of little girls. "I'm going to be working here! I work for Flitter Fairies!" said a girl in the group. "I want to work here too!" Said the sad voice of the little girl that lives inside me.

An employee held a small toy version of himself in his hand. I would later ask him why he had a small version of himself and his reply would be to hide behind a counter piled with seals and make very loud and convincing seal yelps at the passing customers.

After the tour we all ran off to our separate departments. I was assigned ground floor and got to meet Leanne, one of my bosses, who let me go have a break before I got stuck in with all the toy business. I was dithering about what kind of chocolate bar to get from the vending machine in a canteen full of future co-workers who slightly intimidated me with their McDonalds and microwavable lasanges. I finally decided on a KitKat Chunky however the hook spun too slowly so it just ended up balancing on its end and not budging. "Well," I thought to myself "This is embarrassing and unfortunate, but it's not like this could happen again?" Wrong. It can. So I ended up being the guy having an argument with a vending machine.

"C'mmmmaaaan don't do this to me."

My first job was to man the teddy bear section, it was time to put my charming sales skills into action. I spot a lone elderly couple ogling the glass cabinet filled with limited edition Steiff teddies and our conversation went a little something like this:

"Excuse me, would you be interested in buying some very expensive teddy bears today?"
Long Pause.
"No."

Then I spent a good hour blowing bubbles for toddlers, smiling like mad at literally everyone and having people dressed up as safari rangers squirt me with water pistols. I also had a nice conversation with an american woman who convinced me for a short while that she in fact owned an orangutan.

The rest of the day was spent putting back all the toys who'd wandered away from their shelves. I ended up deliberately taking my sweet time doing it just so I could cuddle the toys for a bit longer. When I was younger I used to be obsessed with Beanie Babies and I had to put back this Beanie Baby which was literally just an adorable purple ball of fluff and I just couldn't stop looking at it. It was literally too adorable and I need to have one in my life.

Speaking of literally too adorable I had an encounter with a toddler tottering about the Yoo Hoo section. He seemed to like the toy I had in my hand so I did the only sensible thing I could think of and brought it to his level so he could boop it's nose. It was love at first sight. He gently took it from me with his ridiculously tiny toddler hands and remained entranced with it's cuteness whilst his parents tried to coax him away. "Come on now, you don't really want that toy do you." I think you mean you don't want him to have that toy, Mr and Mrs I-Don't-Love-My-Child.

Eventually I had to stop creating problems for parents and go home but not before having an awkward side step dance with a giant teddy bear being lead by the safari ranger. I really hope this job doesn't kill my love for toys but as for now I'm just going to spend all my wages on literally everything.

Ciao for now x

So That Explains Why There's So Many

It was on

 the afternoon when

 the clown wrapped up balloons

for the children while their mothers 

sipped rose and talked of others. But

when the clown was done it esca-

ped up towards the sun

so now it remains

up

in

the

sky

where

you

might

see

it

still

fly

by.

Pont Saint Esprit, 1951

The bakery is on fire.

Stop these snakes from crawling out my mouth!

The town is on fire and our flesh

Stop these thorns bursting out my chest!

Sizzles.

 I can see it all so clearly.

Great fat beasts crawling out the gutters

filled with teeth that scrape the roads.

Bats only bigger, only longer. 

Get away!

Has it been like this for days?

"Save us! Save us! Whatever did we do to deserve this,

monstrous treatment to our lives?

Please kiss our mother's and father's goodbye,

for we fear that soon we shall surely die."

They would not know of the terrible things,
that had been planned for them.
Diethylamide in the bread, what could it do them?
For days they would spend trapped in this hell,
no escape from their own minds.
And the price? Five deaths.
A woman strangled. The rest institutionalized.

Drifting Off

The warm room is filled with traffics quiet hum,
and I am cucooned in bed.

Do you feel scared? Frightened?
No.
Sometimes, but not tonight.

I feel a memory. A school play.
And a darkness that moves forward,
and with it, violet roses swirl about me,
like the animations of fantasia.

And then I think of myself plucked from earth,
and placed into space amongst the fragmented galaxies.
I'd be so small compared to the burning stars,
and the cold hollow moon.

Do you feel lost? Suspended?
No.
I wonder whether admist all the darkness,
I could still see the how beautiful it all was?

And do you think of the sun?
Yes. I do now.
I see its surface churning.
And I could touch it,
and sink my arm into it.

Do you like it here?
I do. I like the unbelievability of it all.

Would you stay?
Forever? No.
I'd be tired of eternity eventually.

So what now?
I guess I'll stay dreaming until dawn catches up with me.

Daffodil

I am just buzzing
With life! Oh please get me
A drink of water.

Sunshine petals, ah!
Look at all us daffodil's
Brightening your day.

I’m quite tired now
I’ll curl up into the ground
And sleep until spring.

Choo Choo

Ticket Inspector coming, no free ride today.
Look out the window.

Cool light in laked woods,
makes me think of Cerulean.
Placing my feet in summer streams,
so that the pebbles may dig in my hard heels.

The machine has declined my card, this happens every time.
So I tell him it's his fault.
And he says no, go get some money out.
And I say I'm not running with all these bags.
And he says it won't take that long.
And I say it will.
And he says I'm just making excuses now.
Which I'm not,
but I say fine.
With much contempt.

It didn't take that long. And when I get back,
we spend ten awkward minutes together,
politely making it clear,
that we were in the right,
and they were in the wrong.
So now I'm sitting in a seat not as good as the last.

I want to move but the Ticket Inspector,
has just gone through the door.
And I don't want him to think I'm following him.

With all the years spent on the train, I wonder,
have I sat on every seat?

Fields gather up the water,
of rainy days barely remembered.
In them the sky is mirrored,
azure. The clouds are whisked up,
fit to burst. Juxtaposing. Cutting.
Through the dirty babe crops.
And the trolley man sits in the aisle next to me.

He faces my direction,
and when I look up, he looks away.

It might be the John Lennon glasses,
drawing in attention.
They make me feel extra confident and all together,
a better person.

The sun draws out the terrecotta,
of suburban rooftops.

And then the train stops. Letting on
well maintained teenage girls,
and I find my self slightly intimidated.

The John Lennon glasses make me feel a bit silly now.

Ballad for the Boy

I got the call on a Tuesday,
the morning crisp and fresh.
The snow will lay the ground tonight,
my friend will lay to rest.

The girls at work had cried all day,
the boss had taken leave.
And I, unsure of what to think,
had little time to grieve.

He lost his loved one months before,
the reason I dare not ask.
Although I knew he hurt inside,
the extent I could not grasp.

And it seems I could not help him,
from drowning in his grief.
His sister found him hanging,
he sunk to the beneath.

It's sad and strange and I have to admit,
that I don't know what to say.
The only thing that comes to mind;
Such a shame. Such a shame. Such a shame.

University Is Over

Hurrah! And I'm starting my new job at Hamleys on Monday! :D I hope I get discounts on build-a-bear merchandise.

I'm going to upload all the poems I've written for this semester in a great huge bundle so you can all become inspired by my thoughtful insights on life.

I have a feeling that with a lack of a university course prodding me to do some writing I may slack off. I'll have to keep an eye on myself over the summer, it's very likely that instead of writing I may drink myself into a Pimms oblivion.

Here's a little haiku to start things off:

Pimms oblivion
I shouldn't be drinking it
It makes me lary

adios x

Hello, Play for Performance Module

Note:

Throughout Dean’s monologue Jane is unable to hear him. Although she will interact with him of her own accord, anything which he says falls on deaf ears.

*During this impromptu scene where Dean whisks Jane off into a makeshift city of London (After the line “You’d be skipping along and I’d grab you by the arm.”)  Jane should be theatrically animated but in no way should her performance be realistic. She is not a conscious character in this scene but merely an accessory for Dean’s story telling.

Casting:

Dean

Jane

Dean (13)

Mrs Whitehall

Classmate One

Classmate Two

Thomas

George

Grandmother

Mother

Dean (5)

Ash

Act One – The Office

(The sound of rain lightly falling against a window can be heard, the curtains open.)

(Two desks are in the centre of the stage with a computer, telephone and general office paraphernalia on each. Dean is sat on the left one and Jane on the right. There is a table to the left of the stage with a kettle, mugs, coffee pots, milk and sugar sitting on top it. The background consists of a plainly decorated office wall with a single window in the centre between the two desks depicting a view of London on a drizzly day)

(The curtains open and the sound of rain quietens as we catch the end of Jane’s story, Dean is listening intently.)

Jane: I just can’t help it you know it’s a guilty pleasure! I just love it like, oh god the drama and how utterly foul they are! I think girls are just suckers for absolute trash television (Laughing) I highly recommend it.

(They both smile at each other nervously)

Jane: We, er, should probably get on with some work.

(Dean nods in agreement. Jane turns to her computer and begins typing, Dean chooses not to work but instead idly gaze out of the window behind them.)

Dean: You know I love this kind of weather.

(He gets up and stands beside the window to look out across London. Jane continues with her work silently.)

Dean: It’s so peaceful. Perhaps not the best if you’re working outside; like lollypop ladies they must hate it. But in here it’s just, lovely. (To Jane) You look stunning today. I love that blouse on you it’s beautiful.

(There is a pause where he lingers on Jane a little too long. She turns her head to look in Dean’s direction which makes him jump. Oblivious to his embarrassment she gives him a warm smile before returning to her work. Dean begins to move around the office.)

Dean: If I were a girl and I knew you I’d probably hate you. (To Jane) Not because you’re a bad person or anything! It’s just because you’d be a lot prettier than me. (Pause) I guess that’s a pretty weird thing to say, sorry.

(He pause’s again however feels compelled to add one more thing.)

Dean: Actually you know what if I were a girl I’d probably be the one who has a ridiculously large nose compared to the rest of her face, know what I mean? I feel so bad for those girls, those big nosed girls. I promise I’ll stop now.

(He stands by the coffee table and begins to idly play with one of the mugs.)

Dean:  I remember when you first started working here. Ridiculously hot day and I’d eaten a cornetto which had dripped all over my work shirt. Actually I kind of licked at the stains when no one was watching; I really like Cornetto’s.

(He places the mug down and moves freely around the office.)

Dean: But yeah you kind of, skipped in? Yes you definitely skipped into the office and I stood there, licking my stain thinking “Who the hell skips places.” And immediately labelled you as a very bad person but you know what, you weren’t, you were lovely. And you waltzed up to me with this silly grin on your face and just yelled “Hi!” I mean how couldn't I like you, your so friendly!  And from there on it’s been a whirlwind of a friendship. You with your Geordie Shore, me with my culture, it’s a laugh riot. And you know what the best thing is? You continue to say hello. Like, I dunno, I don’t want to sound bitter about this or, sensitive, but some of the people around here can’t even be bothered to make any eye contact. I mean it doesn't hurt really, does it? A bit of recognition, a smile. God no I sound really bitter (laughs) sorry.  It’s just I've had to put up with this kind of stuff in the past it gets to me.

(Lights go out.)

Act Two – School

(Whilst the stage is dark the office desks and coffee table are removed and replaced with 2x4 rows of smaller school desks with chairs attached to them which face the audience. A blackboard is placed in front of the office window and a large wooden table is placed to the right of the stage with a comfy chair behind it. Paper work is piled up neatly on one side of the table.)

(Girls and Boys between the ages of 12 to 13 in school uniform sit in the chairs and begin to talk to each other. They become louder and more boisterous and as the lights come on we are confronted with Dean’s twelve year old classroom.)

(Dean (13) enters the stage. The whole class stop talking and stare at him for one awkward second before continuing on with their conversations like he was never there. Dean (13) takes his place in an empty desk at the front and opens up a large, beaten up copy of the Oxford Dictionary which he begins to read.)

(Mrs Whitehall Enters.)

Mrs Whitehall: Morning class, morning class.

(Classroom continues talking.)

Mrs Whitehall: (Shouting.) Good morning class!

(The class jump up in shock. They all turn around hastily to face the front of the classroom.)

Classroom: Good Morning Mrs Whitehall!

Mrs Whitehall: I hope you’ve all had a good weekend!

Classmate 1: Brilliant Miss.

Classmate 2: The best Miss.

Mrs Whitehall: Very good! (To Dean (13)) And you Dean?

(Dean (13) is obviously embarrassed by being singled out; Mrs Whitehall goes to Dean (13)’s desk and crouches down in a patronising manner.)

Mrs Whitehall: Did you have a good weekend?

(Dean (13) nods furiously, still embarrassed, and buries his head into the dictionary. Standing upright she returns her attention to the class)

Mrs Whitehall: Fantastic! Now today we’ll be working in pairs so I want you all to find a partner please.

(Mrs Whitehall takes her place behind her desk as the class becomes busy choosing who their partners will be. Dean (13) looks around the classroom, completely ignored by his peers.)

Mrs Whitehall: Has everyone got a partner?

Classroom: (In unison) Yes Miss.

Mrs Whitehall: Have you Dean?

(Audible sighs can be heard coming from certain members of the class, Dean (13) timidly shakes his head.)

Mrs Whitehall: Okay then well you can pair up with Thomas and George for today.

Thomas: (Protesting) Oh come on miss that’s not fair!

Mrs Whitehall: Excuse me Thomas?!

George: He’s right miss I don’t want to work with Dean either.

Mrs Whitehall: (Accusatory) And why on earth not?

(George and Thomas look at each other)

Thomas: With all due respect Miss, he’s fucking dull.

(The classroom erupts with laughter as Dean (13), crushed, buries his head into his dictionary.)

Mrs Whitehall: How dare you! Get out of my classroom!

(Mrs Whitehall continues to shout at Thomas and George while the rest of the class remain laughing. Lights fade out.)

Act Three – The Office Again

(With the lights still out the setting reverts back to the office. Dean has resumed his place beside the window whilst Jane still hasn’t moved from her desk. Lights come on.)

Dean: It’s just sometimes I wish I could get more from people than just their apathy, or their sympathy even. That’s the one thing I can’t stand is the pitying looks I get from some people. I’ve got it all my life from teachers, counsellors. Thinking they’re being really nice and looking out for me. The head tilt and the puppy eyes and the “You alright Dean you okay today?” It just makes me feel really awkward like I’m an invalid or something. I just wish people would treat me like, you know, a person, like you do. I mean the worst for it is Ash; I really, really cannot stand that guy. He’s such a nasty piece of work and you should know that he stares at your (Hints towards his bottom.) all the time. Do girls actually like that? Being eyed up wherever they go? If I went out every day and a whole load of women looked me up and down and thought “Me likey.” I would absolutely love it but I guess girls have a little bit more decorum than us. But yeah, he’s awful.

(He quietens down like he has just finished his sentence but is overtaken by a surge of irritation.)

And he is so bloody condescending to me! But it’s only when other people are around, when I’m by myself it’s like I don’t even exist but when we’re in the office it’s all “Yeah you alright mate you okay mate?” Winking at everyone so they all look and think what a real top geezer he is when really he’s just a massive cunt.

(Dean slaps his hands to his mouth)

Dean: Oh shit I’m sorry I shouldn’t swear. Oh fuck sorry! (Laughs). I always feel guilty whenever I swear my grandmother used to tell me off for doing it. (Pause.) Did I ever tell you I was brought up by my grandmother? I’m sure I’ve mentioned it at least once. My mum was very young when she had me and couldn’t really handle looking after me on her own so instead I went to stay with my Grandma. I didn’t really mind, I mean I still got to see my mum every now and then I knew who she was.

(Lights go out.)

Act Four – Mother

(The office desks and coffee table are once again removed. A large rug is placed in the centre of the stage along with a sofa which faces out towards the audience. A much larger window with curtains replaces the office window. We can see depicted in it a well-kept garden with a patio.)

(Grandmother and Mother, both holding cups of teas, take their places on the sofa each. Dean (5) sits on the floor with the same Oxford Dictionary however in a much better condition. The lights come on.)

Grandmother: And what about young David any more plans with him?

Mother: Oh god mum we’re over. He took me to India and he got really drunk and tried to trade me in for some camels.

Grandmother: Ah, that’s a shame. (Pause) He might of gotten a good price.

(Grandmother drinks her tea with a smug look in her eyes. Mother shoots her a look. Dean (5) toddles up to his Grandmother and places his finger on a page in the dictionary. She picks up the book and adjusts her glasses.)

Grandmother: Ah let’s see that’s… Reconnoiter. That’s Ree-cuh-noi-ter. It means to make an observation to er. To get a really good look at something, okay?

(Dean (5) nods vigorously. He then turns towards his mother and gazes at her with delightful curiosity which seems to unnerve her. Dean (5) returns to his position on the floor.)

Grandmother: He’ll find words he likes and gets me to read them out for him. He loves that dictionary best present we ever bought him. (To Dean) You’re a peculiar little child aren’t you?

(Dean (5) turns around and nods vigorously once more.)

Mother: I don’t like the way he stares at me.

Grandmother: Don’t talk about him like he’s not here Emma.

Mother: Well it’s true! He gives me these funny looks it freaks me out.

Grandmother: It’s because he loves you Emma for Christ sake you’re his mother.

(Dean narrates over the stage through a microphone.)

Dean: This is only partially true. Really it was because my mother would visit every couple of months and every time she would have dramatically changed her appearance. As a child, it was fascinating.

Mother: I’m not around long enough for him to know I’m his Mother.

Grandmother: Now that’s enough. He’s not an idiot Emma he knows who you are, he knows who I am and he loves us both. He’s just an ordinary child and you’ve got to start seeing that. Look I never blamed you for not being able to look after him I know you were young, and foolish-

Mother: (Interrupting) Mum…

Grandmother: (Interrupting) Well I’m just saying if you’re going to sleep with a boy who can’t even remember which sides are left and right pregnancies are bound to happen.

Mother: (She holds her hands to her head) Jesus Christ.

Grandmother: But what I’m saying is, he’s your son, and he’s an intelligent boy in his own right I mean the boy reads the Oxford Dictionary for a laugh for pity sake. He’s happy enough with me but you know he could do with just a little bit more affection on your end, right?

Mother: (Sulkily) Right.

Grandmother: Now I’m going to go put the supper on. I’ll leave you two to. (Pause.) Reconnoiter each other.

(Grandmother exits. Mother plays with her cup of tea awkwardly whilst Dean (5) continues to read the dictionary. Eventually Dean (5) comes up to her, dictionary in hand, and places it in her lap. He points to a word.)

Mother: Oh er, that’s, er, ignoramus. It means, well-

(Dean (5) clambers up to the sofa and rests his head on her shoulder.)

Mother: (Thoughtfully) It means me. Sometimes.

(They look through the book together as the lights go out.)

 Act Five – The Office, Finale.

(Setting reverts to office, Dean has returned to his previous position; Jane is still at the computer.)

Dean: She was never a bad woman; she just didn’t really know how to deal with me. We still keep in contact, Facebook right? It’s just you know she has her life and I have mine. Wish it was a bit more of a life though. God it’s depressing working here, I don’t know how you can just be sat there typing away-

(Dean looks over at her computer screen.)

Dean: You’re playing Bejewelled! What the hell you sneaky bastard!

(Dean smacks the table loudly causing Jane to jump. She turns around and sees him holding his hand out to the computer in a mock-judgemental manner.)

Jane: I’m sorry I’m sorry! (Holding her hands up.) Please don’t arrest me!

(Dean Smiles and shrugs his shoulders. She laughs and returns to playing bejewelled.)

Dean: No wonder I have to do the work for the both of us. You know I can’t say I blame you this is the pits. I wish I would have told you on your first day how awful this job really was, saved you from a fate worse than death.

(He walks up to the right side of her desk as she continues to type, unaware of his presence.)

Dean: We’d be back there on that sunny day last year. You’d be skipping along and I’d grab you by the arm.

*(He grabs her by the arm, she looks up and holds a dramatically surprised face.) 

Dean: And I would say “Jane! Jane, It’s not safe here!” and whisk you off into the streets of London!

(She leaps out of her chair and they stride off together, arm in arm.)

Dean: And we would walk along the embankment watching the street performers and eating cornetto’s until we stop in front of the London Eye.

(A large screen drops down in front of the office desks so that only Dean and Jane remain on stage. A picture of the London eye now covers the stage. Dean takes Jane’s hands into his and as she clutches them her eyes filled with adoration.)

Dean: And I would tell you “Jane, the office is a bad place. They never turn on the air conditioning when it gets too hot and the receptionists will treat you with contempt.” And you would say:

(Dean narrates in a high pitched voice imitating Jane whilst she mimes the words.)

Dean: “Dean, oh Dean! I never knew! Thank you for saving me from such a terrible fate!” And we would make the decision to throw in our jobs and become street performers.

(Dean pulls back leaving Jane yearning for his attention. He speaks to himself.)

Dean: Actually I wouldn’t have the confidence to do that. Scratch that idea instead we’d-

(He pulls her close to him and holds her by the waist as they look out towards the audience. He motions his hands towards the sky as Jane looks out with amazement.)

Dean: We’d buy an Ice Cream Van! And after a good day of work we’d celebrate with cider lollies and then I’d get too drunk off them and eat all the cornetto’s and you’d get mad at me.

(Dean lets go of Jane. The background of the London Eye rolls up and Jane quickly returns to her seat. She resumes her position at the computer like nothing ever happened. Dean remains at the front of the stage. The sound of the rain comes in quietly.)

Dean: Hopefully not too mad.

(Dean starts to move freely around the office.)

Dean: You know I’m sorry I complain about work so much. I don’t mean to sound like a miserable bastard I’m not; I try not to be anyway. It’s just; I feel so, pointless sometimes. I mean really what am I doing here?  Shouldn’t I be, I dunno, doing something with my life? I know I don’t have it that bad but living in London just didn’t turn out to be what I expected it to be. There’s just so many people here and so much to do I thought I’d find my own niche y’know, but I haven’t. It’s like the more people there are the less anyone will care.

Dean: (Becoming more passionate) But I didn’t want to spend my life just shacked up with my grandmother like I’d just given up on it all y’know? I don’t want to be some pitiable creature I wanted to like, have a life you know? Make friends! Have jokes. Get a dog. (Pause)

Dean: (To Jane) And I mean let’s face it the only reason why I’m still working here is because of you. I know I just sound like some stupid fool with his heart on his sleeve yearning after any affection he gets but you know what, maybe that’s the case. It’s just when I come to the office and I see you, you make me shake. And I don’t feel like such an outcast because you’ll always say hello, always. And I’m just looking forward towards the nine hours we spend together every day even if you just spend it playing bejewelled.

I mean it’s so stupid I spend every day with you and we hardly talk. I mean I know we speak online but it’s not the same as a real conversation. I would give absolutely everything I have in the world just to have the smallest of small talks with you. It’s like those dreams when try to run but your feet won’t move. I just sit here and wish for words to come out from me but I just can’t make them.

Dean: (To himself) And you know what even if I could tell you all of this I wouldn’t, I know that you’d just freak out if you knew how I felt and I don’t want to lose what we have at the moment; I like our little chats about bad television and what our dinners were like! It’s just-

(He turns around once more to look at Jane. Dean becomes quiet as the next words he says are what he wishes he could tell her every day.)

Dean: I don’t know how to tell you that I love you. I don’t know how to make this go the way I want to go. I just wish I wouldn’t feel so stupid-

(The rain suddenly stops as Ash enters)

Ash: (To Jane) Hey darling you alright.

(He looks up at Dean and speaks to him in a loud and patronising manner.) Ah! You alright there Dean! You having a good day?!

(Dean freezes. Humiliated by Ash’s behaviour he quickly takes his place behind his desk and stares blankly at the computer, typing up imaginary work. Jane looks at Dean with a concerned look which is then quickly replaced by a hostile one towards Ash.)

Jane: (Annoyed) Jesus Christ Ash he’s mute he’s not an idiot.

(There is a pause as Ash stands in his place, embarrassed.)

Ash: (Recovering) Ah, sorry darling. (Pause) Sorry Dean, look I was just looking for some extra pencils, y’got any?

Jane: (Focusing on her work) There’s some on my desk.

Ash: Ah thanks babe. (He goes around the back of her chair and reaches over her to get them.) You coming to the pub for lunch later then?

Jane: Maybe.

Ash: Ah hard to get huh? Feisty girl. (He looks over at Dean) See ya around then Dean, mate?

(Dean throws an embarrassed smile towards Ash’s direction.)

Ash: (To Jane) See ya later then sweetheart. (He gives Dean a wink and exits the stage.)

(Jane looks up from her work to see Dean visibly upset by the ordeal.)

Jane: (Concerned) I’m sorry about Ash, Dean. I know how he can be. I don’t like it either.

(She gets up and stands in front of him, Dean manages to make eye contact.)

Jane: Look I know we can’t ever really, y’know, chat chat, but we’re still friends aren’t we?

(Dean smiles and nods.)

Jane: And I mean if anything’s ever bothering you, you can always tell me. We could set up a little system of notes.

(She pauses and smiles. He smiles back.)

Jane: So, Dean, is there anything you need to tell me?

(There is a pause, Dean’s voice plays over the speakers as an internal monologue.)

Dean: I can’t.

(Dean shakes his head. Jane squeezes his arm before returning to her desk to resume her work. He returns to gazing out the window as the sound of rain becomes louder and louder. The lights fade out.)

End.

Final Days

Currently on the ferry waiting to go back to London. We got here super early so we managed to get the best seats!

That's right, corner sofa, next to the window and the bar is directly behind us. This is seriously going to be the best ferry journey ever.

So on Friday we went to go see the Cirque Du Soleil which is a French Candian Circus (Jane went nuts over it because she's French Canadian.) Sadly I couldn't take pictures of the performance because I'm pretty sure all the circus people would get really sad but take my word for it it was amazing. They had women hanging off chandeliers, people rolling around in giant hoops, this huge giant of a man who for some reason wouldn't stop wailing, angels, people-horses and a tiny woman attached to big balloons floating around all over the place.

Afterwards we were treated to copious amounts of sushi thanks to John and Jane and by golly that was also the best. The best.

Sam's Dad being confrontational outside the Sushi Restaurant.

Sam took me out to show me how pretty Amsterdam is at night. Apart from a bumpy start where he crashed into a bike and I fell off the back into the road it turned out to be quite a sweet night looking at all the bridges lit up.

Yesterday (Saturday) we left the house early to go climb trees! We got to wear helmets and harnesses and swing through the woods on zip wires and maneuver our way through mid air obstacles. Sam's top kept riding up whenever he went on the zip wire which was beyond attractive. We all looked pretty attractive actually. 

Especially Sam.

When we got back I decided it might be a good idea to take some pictures of the house that John and Jane live on because it is quite literally stunning.

This is the other cat, she didn't like pictures, or me, or anything. Bitch cat.

And finally we spent the evening tripping our balls on magic truffles. We went to go explore Vondelpark during sunset which was actually quite beautiful because of the stunning clouds and the vibrant flowers. I managed to get a few pictures but then the phone started to become really confusing and scary so I had to stop.

Quick little side story here, parrots live in Vondelpark. About 40 years ago some domestic parrots escaped from someone's house and they were like "Oh whats the worst than can happen." And yeah, parrots happened. So them flying about along with the distant sounds of a man playing a saxophone made our park adventure quaintly surreal. Once we were back home the rest of the trip was expectedly hilarious and wierd with alligators in ceilings and far too many Kate Bush music videos but it was fun, a pretty sweet end to a pretty sweet holiday.

There was the small problem however with what to do with the weed we'd bought since I didn't really want to be a drug smuggler. Instead we decided to hide it somewhere.

If you ever happen to find yourself near the photo booths at Rotterdam Station, you know where to look.

So yes now we're on the ferry, it's started moving and Sam's just pointed out to me that all the dark patches in the sea are schools of fish which is pretty cool. Oh here is a picture of my Hard Rock T-shirt like I promised.

 So I guess that's it, bye bye Amsterdam x

Wednesday and Thursday

We didn't go to the Hard Rock Cafe, we slept. In fact we slept until three thirty in the afternoon the next day. To be fair I'd spent the whole night watching Goodfellas and developing a huge crush on Ray Liotta.

ahhhhwaaalaaargh.

So I needed time to re-cooperate from his shockingly blue eyes. Anyway me and Sam ended up going out in the evening. We did civilized pre-drinking with John and Jane and got tipsy on a variety of liqueurs then hopped on Sam's bike to the Hard Rock, me sitting side saddle and giggling every time we went over a bump. 

When we got there we had super delicious strawberry daiquiri's and I was a massive tool and bought myself a Hard Rock T-shirt (I shall post pictures later). Then we thought it might be a good idea to go to a coffee house and get high, it wasn't. I ended up petrified in a toilet queue because I'd convinced myself someone was definitely having a baby in the toilet whilst I'd left Sam on his own at the bar thinking I was never going to come back.

We sat outside the coffee house to try and ride it out but all the lights and people were not helping so we decided it would be best if we just went home, curled up in a ball together and cried. I made Sam cycle back through Vondelpark as I took pictures behind us so that was nice but as soon as we got back home and collapsed in bed even opening my eyes brought on waves of nausea and going to the bathroom to get ready for bed was one of the most arduous trips I've ever made in my life.

The next day was a lot nicer. We had to leave the house early so spent the day doing lots of touristy things such as:

Going to the Heineken Museum

We actually got there too early so had to pass the time souvenir shopping but when we did eventually go in it turned out to be The Best Museum Ever. They made sure all the boring historical stuff was gotten out of the way with first so we were free to do all the exciting things like eat Barley and stir Wort! 

We had a go at being master DJ's and learnt how to pull the perfect pint as well as going into this simulation room where you were a bottle of Heineken. 

Worst barman ever.

Hey look at this fun beer wall.

Sam says the whole museum was a giant advertisement. But yes after all the beeriness we went for stupidly huge burgers at the Hard Rock served by a nice lady named Nina and looked at the pretty view outside our window.

Then took an excruciatingly long bike ride (where we rammed into a very angry Asian man) to:

Nemo

Which is a science museum for children. It had lots of fun activities to educate us in scientific matters like blowing huge bubbles! 

And mirror related fun!

Though it did have this horrendously creepy giant metal robot girl which has potentially ruined the whole trip with it's foulness.

seriously wtf Amsterdam.

So apart from that it was a super lovely day out. You can probably tell I'm not keeping up to date with these blog posts since I'm writing this on a Saturday but I've just been so busy having a much better Easter Holiday than you I just haven't had the time! I'll make sure to write the rest on the ferry but as for now we're about to go cycle off to Vondelpark to try our "Atlantis" Magic Truffles, wish us luck.

Oh and one more thing: