smokingboot

First thing I had better record is that I am extremely happy. In three days I have written more of the new thing than I managed of the old thing in 4 months. I am still slow, woefully slow; and it is a very frippery piece I write, without meaning, but it makes me laugh. Reading the Puppy's work made me realise how hidebound I have become about language, how terribly old school. That's cool, I love old school, but I could do with loosening up a bit and letting words and situations tumble out of my head in sheer pleasure. That's what's happening as I write the new. I hope to develop it and sell it but right now I need to relish the mad joyful little thing it is.

And speaking of mad joyful little things, the time has come to return to London for work for which I needed a) a tan and b) pretty nails.

See, coming back from Tuscany, with a little bit of brown help, I looked rocking on show and in real life; the response from all was uplifting, the effect on screen was pretty and energy free for me; no more hours spent putting muck on my face so that viewers could differentiate me from the living dead plus I got to wear my favourite short dresses without tights/hold ups. But the tan went, and yesterday I decided to try one of those spray tan places. And I have paid. Oh, how I have paid.

My legs are usually white as lard, but not today. Today I have brown calves and white shins, golden thighs with big brown blotches on the inside legs, and best of all, dark chocolate feet. The tan has migrated away from the leg zone, downwards towards the deep orange soles and ankles, or upwards towards my coffee coloured thong line. I have always revelled in the multi-ethnicity of my background, but I never expected a fake tan to demonstrate it so well; right now I have viking buttocks and a carribbean punami. Don't tell me to shower; this is after the shower. Believe me, on seeing this little lot, I have showered like the queen of showering. It was when I got out that I noticed one final difference, so subtle one would only notice it in daylight: One of my legs is entirely darker than the other.

Back to tights then, really dark tights.

And the nails? Well they at least manage to look cute, cut square across the top with a mosaic of rose and white shell. My fingers look like little men in sparkly pink fezzes.Right now, my life is so ridiculous I can't stop grinning. It's like having a permanent pimms in front of me, full of strawbs and apples and mint.

Here's to laughter:-D