Wednesday, 1 December 2010
It's been an interesting few weeks to say the least.
Firstly, I have found myself on a number of "dates" with Suit Guy who, after our first disastrous encounter seems to have taken a liking to me despite my penchant for Mushroom Stroganoff (See This Little Piggy....).
It's fine, I mean he is a really great,interesting guy, we go to the theatre and then he takes me out for dinner , we talk for hours and like the same music ( apart from Status Quo ),but there is something missing, and I can't quite put my finger on it, well actually I can....The problem is..He doesnt treat me like absolute shit...and its slightly unnerving me.And its got me asking myself what the FUCK is wrong with me?
I mean, why do I only fancy men who are bastards? It is so unhealthy and we all know that it ends in tears, I mean look at me and Dom and that fiasco. (oh Dom I miss you so much..shut up shut up shut UP Harriett you fool!!)
I called Fellow Actress the other day to try and get some perspective but she wasn't much help.
"You need to give them up, for like a whole year," she says.
"What men?" I say aghast. .
" No ,bastards. They act as drug. You know I once read that a toxic bachelor hits the same neuro circuit as cocaine. They are highly addictive and highly dangerous and the only way to kick the habit is complete abstinence."
She's become very extremist since she started attending AA after the wedding fiasco. Abstinence is her absolute favourite word right now. About bloody everything
"If only there was a meeting called Bastards Anonymous," I sigh, she pauses for a second." I think there is," she says, " but the waiting list is about six months long."
"So how's it going? " I ask, "How are you feeling as a sober person?"
"Amaaaazing," she gushes, "Harry its the BEST thing I've ever done, oh and I've met someone."
"Wow, that was quick, " I say slightly envious at her ability to bounce back so quickly from her self proclaimed heartbreak
"Oh My God Harry. He's amaaazing. He's a film star!!!.I met him at one of the meetings and we went for coffee after and the rest, as they say, is AA History."
" Are you supposed to do that? I mean, I'm no expert but isnt it against the whole ethos? Aren't you meant to be focussing on staying sober?"
"He's a film star Harry," she repeats ignoring me, "He is so fucking famous it's not even funny." She says hardly able to contain her excitement.
" Who is it?" I ask
"Oh I can't possibly say," she declaims dramatically." Its Anonymous Harry! " she tuts
" Right, I say,
" But," she continues , "I'll give you a clue.. he's the lead guy in that film we saw on Sunday? The American one? He's over here for a press junket."
"So you've basically just told me who he is," I say dryly
"Nope. I didnt say his name," She says "Anyway,you wont tell anyone. And I've only told my mum, and Clive."
"My hair colourist, but he's used to celebrities.He's heard much worse in the salon."
"Right," I sigh. I'm not sure how effective this group therapy is going to be for Fellow Actress if she cant even abide by the anonymity rule .
I am still pondering the age old dilemma of "Why Women Like Bad Boys," the next day in my new" fill in" job at my friend's boutique in Westbourne Park Its a cushty little gig actually because all we seem to do is
eat chocolate and drink tea and surf My Single Friend for new members "before the other bitches get a chance to get their claws in" (her words not mine) plus she pays me cash in hand which is always a good thing for an actor.
I am sitting there sipping on my third Earl Grey when a man comes in and walks over to the cash desk.
"Hi I 'd like to buy this red bangle for my wife," he says and picks up a blue one from the basket.
"Great," I say, "But you do know thats its not red?"
He looks perplexed and then says, "Oh in that case I'll take this brown one," he says and picks up a green one.
"Ok, " I say," But just so you know its not brown."
"Well what colour is it?" he barks.
"Oh for fucks sake," he shouts and throws it back into the basket and storms out. I am just about to run after him with a red bangle when Fellow Actress calls.
"Was it you?" she whispers
"Was it you who sent the paparazzi .Front page of the bloody Daily Mail?"
"No! What Paparazzi?" I say shocked that she would think I could do that to a friend, and even ,more shocked that she would think I own the telephone number of such an unsalubrious person
"Oh fuck. It can only be Clive then.Bastard. He said he wouldnt say anything" she snarls as I quickly log on to the Daily Mail website. There, right in front of me is a picture of Fellow Actrress snogging the face off a the aforementioned Film Star in a cafe in Primrose Hill.
" Oh god I've totally fucked up." she says, "My group won't speak to me,I've been banned, what a fucking nightmare!"
"What about the film star?And I thought you weren't drinking!?" I say staring at the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on the table between them in teh photo.
"Yeh, well, it was a bit of a disaster. I feel really bad actually, I mean I just thought we could have a nice romantic glass of wine but he just went on a bender."
"Babe!" I say,"You're not supposed to have even one drink if you're an alcoholic!!"
"Well I know that now." she spits,"Anyway he's gone AWOL. His PA has been calling me non stop trying to find out where he is and he keeps calling from this crack den in Kings Cross begging me to come and "party"
"Oh God," I say and suddenly the thought of being with a nice man like Suit Guy seems infinitely more attractive.
"Oh.But there is some good news." she says and I can hear her smiling on the other end of the phone. "My agent says the phone has been inundated with calls to offer me acting jobs. It seems even Bad publicity is good publicity."