What a tremendously long bloliday!! (That’s bloggers’ technical termificology fyi, you’re welcome.)
Babeses (for the Expaterati)/ Dahlins (for the Brits), where to begin?? Xmas was an amazingly spiritual time of giving for me, hence my blogging hiaticus, and it has been a crazybobs delicious whirlwind. The previous occasion when I lay down the annals of my life for you, I was in Disneyland Florida, as you will recall. So I’ll begin with now, work backwards, doing some bits in the middle, then proceed to the end of the beginning bit. Or no, I’ll just start with Disney.
Given that life just made sense there, I decided to extend my stay beyond the kids’, and popped them on a plane back to London with Clara. They were having an awesome time, but Chrimbo is really so much nicer for irritants to spend with their grandparents, isn’t it? In the afore-mentionsed spirit of giving, it felt only right and proper for me to forgo my selfish maternal needs, and that Max and Mills returned to the bosom of the extended family. Plus, an incrediblé thing happened out there in Florida – even more incrediblé than the Burberry and LuluLemon prices at the outlet mall: I met my Prince Charming! Literally.
After a brief fling with a Mickey Mouse guy (it just didn’t work out; there was such a distance between us due to the immenseness of his ears, and frankly his attempts at reassurance, saying, “All the better to hear you with, my dear”, quickly became tiresome and creepy), one day I was watching the parade at the Magic Kingdom for the 87th time, and there was a chap on a float, playing Prince Charming. As our eyes met through the adoring crowd, he held my gaze, doing his charming waving posing thing, and in that moment, time stopped. Suddenly it was as if only he and I existed in the universe, while all around us became just a blur of… of other stuff going on, and stuff.
It must only have been a matter of seconds, though it felt like a lifetime, and then, I knew. So, long story short, I shacked up with Phil, once the irritants were departé, checking out of the resort, as it would’ve been unethical for a Disney employee to be fraternising with a guest, and I didn’t want him to put his character career at risk. My principles just wouldn’t allow me to do that, and also the whole place was booked solid. I located a very droll motel next to a highway, and made that my HQ for the remainder of the trip. It was hilarious because it was just like the motels you see in films, and one half-expected to be awoken in the middle of the night by a Quentin Tarantino villain in possession of a suitcase full of automatic weapons. So fun.
Phil and I had a simply divine time, and it’s extremely true that at Disney, dreams really do come true. We did some serioso Netflixing and chilling, let me tell you!! Mostly Disney films. He’s an actor/ dancer/ singer/ model on a one-way trajectory to Hollywood (of that I am certain, and as you know, I have yet to be wrong about anything), and apart from my British accent and fabulous physical being, he adored the fact that I am distantly related to the Royal Family, and that I have a ton of media contacts worldwide, and a boatload of fans in my own right. We just clicked, you know? Therefore thusly, it was with some considerable annoyance that I received a call one sunny afternoon while he was at work, and I lounged by the motel pool (imagining myself in Gone Girl), from my mother. She rudely demanded to know when I would be flying back to “attend” to my children, which I thought was pretty rich given that she was failing horrendously to attend to my needs as her child, by interrupting this special period in my life. Just like that, I went from Gone Girl to Girl Interrupted. The painful irony was, of course, entirely lost on her.
What could I do, babeses, as a doting mother, but dash back to London as soon as very possible?? So that’s what I did, after a few more beautiful days with Phil. He was just perfect for me: he smiled and waved, and smiled and nodded, and was completely charming all the time. I wondered how my life would have been, had I married Phil rather than Don, all those years ago. Unlike Max and Milly, our children would’ve been (could still be!!) a cosmic combination of my searing intellect and his smiley, wavey charm. How far they would go in this world, with those qualities!
In my excitement, I told Clara about Phil and she must’ve been in a bad mood (why are so many women in such a bad mood all the time?!) because her less than enthusiastic response was, “EJ, do you really think that’s the basis for a mature, lasting relationship?”
Why I had expected her to be happy for me, I do not know. Too often people delight in the misery of others, I observate upon reflection, rather than in their joy, and that explains a great deal about the human condition and the state of the global economy and just goes to show that everything Plato and Buddha said was true. They’d back me up here, no doubt.
Coming back to non-Disney London has been a shock to the system, I won’t deny it, but I’ve been rushed to the bone with my performance work. Thanks for your support, my loves, Expaterati or otherwise. Below are some fab pics – thanks to these mega cutting edge film peeps for helping me with the stills – of me doing a full-house performance at the London Comedy Store. It was a weird one because how it works is that a whole bunch of freebie comics show up (obviously I’m not a comic, more of an edicator, sharing the message of my glamorous life, but let’s keep that to ourselves) to get judged by the first rows of the audience, and the first rows are the ones who bagged their seats early, so they’ve had some loooong drinking time. Super smart business model, and if I ever wore a hat, I’d take it off to that venue; but I don’t wear hats because they suck the chi from my fiery locks.
Not sure about putting the clip on my YouTube channel, as the compere repeatedly used the C word shortly before my set (not with reference to me, por supuesto), and there’s just no way to stop children getting on the Internet. Could cut that bit out, I guess…
Finally, I’m very excited to say that I’m planning my visit to Singas next month!!!! It does depend on childcare arrangements as I appear to have somehow lost Mummy’s willingness to assist, but Don has turned up… Yes, he has! Will save that for another post, even though I know you’d love to read another couple thousand words from me right now. Sorry!! Delayed gratification is a good thing though, for many people (not me), so I’m doing you a favour.
What with my visit, I am urgently wanting to contact a hot Aussie chap by the name of Jonathan Atherton, as it would be way cool to do some performance while I’m over there. If anyone knows him, feel free to put in a word on my behalf. Just say hi or guarantee him a sell-out night at the Blu Jaz Café, or just hi.
Sending lots of love. Xx