Monday, 5 January 2015

GOODBYE TO THE ULTIMATE FIGHTER
 
 
The death of much loved ESPN anchor Stuart Scott, yesterday has led to an outpouring of love, fond memories and best of all the circulation of one of the most poignant and inspiring videos I have ever had the privilege to see, from this ultimate fighter who battled his cancer for 7 years.

I watched it through a flood of tears and it turned my thoughts to my Gramps who lost his fight 15 years ago and my Mum who has now fought cancer twice and although she's currently in remission, she continues to fight daily to regain the health she once enjoyed.

For those of us encircled by the deadly ring of cancer, recent comments downplaying cancer, most notably from Dr Richard Smith, a former long-serving editor of the British Medical Journal, now chairman of a health technology company, who on an online blog declared that 'Cancer is ‘the best way to die’, and that the country should therefore ‘stop wasting billions’ trying to find a cure for the disease; might as well be a punch in the face.

When someone says to me they hate something or someone, I always now temper it with just how much I hate cancer. This body invader strips away the body and soul of it's sufferers, diminishes their daily lives, vibrancy, strength and bodies.

Nothing can ever prepare you for the sight of a loved one literally shutting down and physically disappearing in front of you. I truly wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy and it's for that reason that I quote and ask you all to remember the words of Stuart Scott.

"When you die, it does not mean that you lose to cancer. You beat cancer by how you live, while you live and the manner in which you live,"

RIP Stuart Scott and all those other ultimate fighters who you've joined and to those that are still with us, fighting to live their lives their way, your courage and strength are an example to us all.







Saturday, 2 August 2014

Tulisa : The Price of Fame

There was a definite poor me/victim slate, along with a dash of paranoia and shades of Geri Halliwell who did a truly awful documentary charting her life after her spilt from the Spice Girls :0)

Call me cynical but the fact that Tulisa took the time to enlist a film crew to chart her 'agony' and try to spin a bad situation, to help with her media and in turn sponsor...ship rehabilitation; was pretty hard-nosed and businesslike, contrasting sharply with the actions of the victim she was trying to portray to us.

Her acting audition which was apparently ruined by someone following her to her casting agents, seems to have continued at home with her tearful monologue to camera. Just a flag, who cries into a camera and then keeps ranting 'they made it happen!' ?

We've always known about leaks to the press, but when the film confirm that her right-hand man Gareth had leaked a false court location to the press, it made me wonder what else have #TeamTulisa leaked to the press during the course of the year.

So who's to blame for Tulisa's situation - she is. There's no smoke without fire, particularly when your last meltdown was over your sex tape being released on the internet.

The buck stops with her behaviour and she should take ownership of that. She put herself in a very dodgy situation driven by greed and to a degree stupidity. She believed her own hype and it's the one thing, that has destroyed many a bigger and better 'star' than she is and ever will be.

If Tulisa thought this documentary was going to put her point of view across, unfortunately she failed. Of course Twitter flamed with tweets about the show, some from #TeamTulisa, saying how strong she had been during her 'ordeal' . The rest focused on her massively changed physical appearance, particularly her lips since her N'Dubz days.

Only time will tell whether Tulisa : The Price of Fame has proved to be an own goal for its star.

Wednesday, 11 June 2014

Just Call Me Wing Girl !

I was lucky enough to meet one of my favourite people, via a model friend on the set of a client's commercial. She mentioned a friend who had an online boutique, that was in need of a little of my social media magic and the rest as they say is history.

L is funny, ridiculously smart, effortlessly glamourous and unbelievably, single. Unlike me, she's taken to the wonderful world of Tinder, to find a mate and regularly delights me with her dating updates over a cheeky latte or two.

"So I just had a message from my disaster dinner date tonight". I couldn't help but smile as she continued, "The poor chap had a terrible nervous twitch. So distracting! It just didn't turn me on!!", at which point we both burst out laughing.  

"So he texted me, "Can I see you again?" I replied, saying I didn't think there was enough chemistry for us to take it further and he replied,

"Crikey, that was £200 well spent then" (NICE!!!!!)

Sour grapes in dating is never a great thing, but you can't fight that old devil chemistry. I recounted my latest dating adventure and instead of the over the top response of the only other buddy I'd mentioned it to, L fired back briskly "Next!"

Less than 24 hours later she came up with the perfect salve to my bruised ego.

"I've been invited to see Snoop Dogg on Thursday. Are you free?"

I'm not the fastest texter usually but I pinged a yes back pronto. As turned out I was to be her wing girl, to shield her from the advances of a recent Tinder buddy, who unfortunately, wasn't working out. He had said she could bring along a friend, who could keep his friend company so to speak.

I didn't realise how badly things were going between them, until as I noticed a grumpy looking man, staring intently at the pair of us, as we walked towards the gig venue. It was her date and his friend ! She'd walked straight by the pair of them (she's as blind as a bat without her glasses, which she refuses to wear in public) and was on the phone actually calling him, to ask where he was !

The concert was of course off the chain. Snoop was on fire. L's date's buddy turned out to be a cool guy. I thanked L's date for inviting me along and then we hit the awkward parting moment. L's date asked which way I was going and I said to the underground.

For some reason I was looking at L as I make my declaration and seeing her panic at the thought of being left with her date, said we were going in the same direction.

Conceding he was fighting a losing battle, L's date kissed her on the cheek and started to walk away, turning briefly to gesture (in the weirdest way - tapping his fingers like he was playing on an x-box) that she should text him.

"I take it you won't be texting him then?" I asked her. "Hell no!" she said mimicking his tapping fingers :0)









 

Tuesday, 10 June 2014

Addicted To : Made In Chelsea

My devotion to this show is legendary. Anyone who knows me, knows that I have spent just about every series of it, tweeting wise guy comments about the increasingly ridiculous, almost incestuous activities of its bright young thing inhabitants.
 
What drives my tweeting are the cast members and their 'adventures'. I marvel at their ability to shift from one rocky relationship to another at breakneck speed, barely taking a breathe to digest what just happened, while wharfing from one sexy location to location, always immaculately dressed and if they're female always in possession of a killer wardrobe and divine arm candy.
 
The current main storyline concerns the up until now super sensible, but oh so silly named Binky and her boyfriend Alex; well actually I should ex, ex boyfriend.
 
First, because he cheated on her 3 times and then after she'd taken him back after this spell of cheating; it was revealed (two of her girlfriends at a social gathering) that while they were 'on a break', Alex had, had an orgy with several girls and his best buddy Spencer.
 
I sat google-eyed as Binky wrestled with staying true to the candle of love she still held for Alex and her increasingly exasperated group of girlfriends, pleading with her to see sense. Binky of course saw absolutely no sense and proceeding to lost it with two of her best girlfriends and in the most WTF moment of the episode, made peace with Spencer, Alex's orgy buddy in crime.
 
Honestly you couldn't make it up - of course I jest since like so much other reality TV series MIC undoubtedly has more than it's fair share of scripted moments, usually for characters who are interminably boring like Victoria 'Horse Face', who's job remains a mystery and whose biggest MIC moment to date was denouncing another cast member Cheska as being...horror or horrors...Ugly !
 
My writing has just been interrupted by a mini tribe of curly haired 'far to beautiful for words' curly haired boys taking pictures outside the Starbucks I'm writing in. It seems a timely place to end this entry.

He's Just Not Into You !

It's taken me a while, well actually several decades to conclude that my love life is almost permanently pants.

This isn't a bitter harpy speaking to you it's more a disappointed Dora, who has tried big love, fast love, casual love, heartfelt love and has finally realised that not everyone gets the love life they deserve; no matter what the songs say or however many self-help books they read.
 
I can honestly say, that having 'dated' men with varying degrees of separation, age, haircuts and success, the common denominator in my love misadventures is me and therefore after my latest "He's just not into you" non-date moment, the blame must rest firmly on my shoulders.

I haven't really dated anyone since Big B, who texted me on my birthday from NY with his standard, "Things have been crazy at work, but I'll definitely call you soon" message.

Since this has been an almost standard text or phone message from him for well over a year and should really be his answerphone message, I replied with a very definite 
 
"Lovely to hear from you, unfortunately this ship has sailed' and please don't feel you have to text or morse code me anymore".

Then, as I scurried down the street today, after a client meeting to grab some lunch, I bumped almost head on into second to last, most recent love interest, bounding down the street holding hands with his new girlfriend.
 
She looked so ridiculously glam skinny, though lacking the sense to properly blend her fake tan, all the way down her neck; that I prayed a taxi cab would take me out, as I crossed the street, so at least my almost regulation jeans, slogan t-shirt and signature shades would at least be hidden by the taxi's bonnet passing over my head !

Which brings me neatly to my latest non love interest - Mr Fox. A handsome, mature super smart, salt and pepper wily fox with a devilish smile. Add to that a razor sharp wit, alpha male aura and the ability to rock a suit old school, so well, that it makes a woman want to ditch the rules and go home with him.
 
(Before you ask, no I haven't :0)

Because of his super blunt 'no commitment' directive (which I actually found strangely 'refreshing'), issued right before the end of non-date one, I had Mr Fox in mind for a short but sweet, summer fun slot. Somerset House Film Four open air movies, Hyde Park snooze feasts, visiting galleries and museums and just generally hanging out.
 
After dinner, I walked him to his latest meeting (I'm an equal opportunities work destination companion) and established during the length of that walk, that due to work commitments and his super hectic life, that I probably wouldn't see him again face to face until mid-September.

"So I won't see you before you leave then ?", I said.
"Let's play it by ear", he replied.  In other words he was done.
 
Don't get me wrong I wasn't heartbroken by the news that there aren't going to be any more Odd Couple moments with him, but however, cool of a dating diva you may be, experiencing such a pointed "He's just not into you" moments is never a good thing for the old ego.

I had thought things would be much easier having dropped my squeeze requirements down from Mr Right, to Mr Season. The realisation that my 'dating picker' is totally off even, when it comes to choosing Mr Season, drove me to a serious sugar overload - a packet of Haribo Starmix, was rapidly consumed.

This sugar-filled frenzy that was only reined in by a Skype call with Q, who's back on with Mr Recycled (a guy it didn't work out with first time around, but who you leave enough distance between dating to justify going back for another go, when all other love interests have been exhausted).
 
She reminded me that I do have a lot going on - family stuff, keeping a business afloat, clients happy, barely sleeping and a sweet and sour addiction to rocket salad and Haribos. By the end of her 'prep talk' my dating ego was marginally re-inflated.