I haven't blogged here for a while. I have, quite clearly, failed at what I've set out to do. I don't know why I've managed to so spectacularly fail to achieve the goal I set out for myself, which was to write one of these a day for a 100 days finishing...a while ago now! I think maybe the issue was setting myself up to write something interesting, important and relevant every day was a little too ambitious back then.
Anyway, I'm back here now because someone is indeed in need of a letter. And it's my squishy...you can call her what you want. If you know who she is of course. Which you might. Or don't. Who knows.
Her Grandfather died this weekend and, the fact that it wasn't really unexpected and the fact that he has lived a long, interesting and happy life, doesn't really make a difference to how sad she feels right now. Many of my friends have lost family members recently and every time it happens I feel a combination of sadness, fear and relief. And then, though I'm glad I'm human enough to feel empathy, I feel guilty for each of these feelings, knowing that this isn't about me or my thoughts on life and mortality in any way.
But it's strange how each of us respond to news of death in different ways. Some of us become cloyingly sympathetic, appearing to stroke, hug, kiss, feed and comfort the bereaved in a variety of ways. Others of us run a mile- wanting to get far enough away to be able to deny the basic, terrifying truths of life and mortality. And there are so many -an alien race to me- who can bravely face death straight on. Who can accept and discuss and rationalise, and who can understand that life and death are part and parcel of our everyday adventures. I'm not one of those people. My sister calls me a dreamer, a fantasist...she derides my attempts to look further than the everyday- whether that be in romance, religion or career plans- and I think this translates to my response to death. I push it anyway, I refuse to believe and, luckily perhaps for my business, I make jokes.
But, Squishy, maybe that's not the worst response after all. I can't physically be with you now anyway and I doubt I could cook anything that would entice you greatly. Lots of the people you love are there doing these things now, and no doubt you're doing them in return for your family who are just as sad as you. And you're facing life and death head on right now, I can't see the appeal of me being there just to affirm that's what you're doing and what's happening. So I'll do what I'm best at. I'll write you blogs, I'll send you jokes or funny YouTube links, I'll distract you with stories of my latest mess ups or woes of a broken heart and you can forget your problems for a minute and play Mama Squishy. I'll tell you funny stories from work and we can laugh or bitch over our contemporaries' behaviours, successes or misfortunes. Because I've realised that who I am is much of what you are too. You might have a proper job and a real life boyfriend. You might talk about marriage and cook proper meals and pass your driving test and go on hen nights, but really you're a silly, funny, fantasist too. So how about this. You can call me, you can cry. I will respond. But in a couple of weeks I'm gonna rock up on your doorstep with a CRATE (read bottle) of something pink and sparkling, some slag mags and news from Londinium. You can fill me in on the past few weeks. We'll talk about some serious stuff, we'll cast our eyes to the heavens and be thankful for all the good things we have and have yet to come and then we'll descend rapidly into two giggling, joking, slightly crass (at times), ridiculous beings and have a lovely time, thankful that no one else gets to see us at what might be our best or our worst. We won't know and we won't care. Until then hold tight, do some crying, do some smiling, look after your Grandma and remember that it'll get better.
Showing posts with label A Hundred Days to Make Me a Better Person. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A Hundred Days to Make Me a Better Person. Show all posts
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Starting again...
I'm a long way from finished on this blog. As, I'm sure, you can see.
If you're a meanie, you probably noticed this a while ago and quietly sniggered into your teacup thinking, 'I knew she'd never manage it'. If you're a nice'un and were impressed by the attempt I initially made at creating and maintaining this blog, you were probably pretty disappointed in me and a little sad that something so potentially life affirming could be neglected so apparently easily.
I'm also a long way over the deadline. But - despite admittedly getting very sidetracked - I'm definitely not a quitter...if anything, once started, I'm obsessively bound to completing a task, so I intend to do so with this one. Even though I stopped writing entries on this project months ago, I've often thought back to it...I've come across moments, situations and people that I feel could benefit from these letters and I've felt lazy and guilty that I haven't sat down and written anything. So the next few entries will be filled with me going back over those moments I wish I'd captured at the time, in the vain hope that the old adage 'Better late than never' will stand true.
If you're a meanie, you probably noticed this a while ago and quietly sniggered into your teacup thinking, 'I knew she'd never manage it'. If you're a nice'un and were impressed by the attempt I initially made at creating and maintaining this blog, you were probably pretty disappointed in me and a little sad that something so potentially life affirming could be neglected so apparently easily.
I'm also a long way over the deadline. But - despite admittedly getting very sidetracked - I'm definitely not a quitter...if anything, once started, I'm obsessively bound to completing a task, so I intend to do so with this one. Even though I stopped writing entries on this project months ago, I've often thought back to it...I've come across moments, situations and people that I feel could benefit from these letters and I've felt lazy and guilty that I haven't sat down and written anything. So the next few entries will be filled with me going back over those moments I wish I'd captured at the time, in the vain hope that the old adage 'Better late than never' will stand true.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Letter nine...
Dear my babies,
I know I know, you're NOT babies. I coined that phrase years ago to cover all of you en masse so that when people said, 'What're you doing tonight Lucy' I could say 'Looking after my babies'. And seeing that I babysat pretty constantly when I was younger this was something I had to say ALOT. I understand that you're not babies now and, even when you were, you were not my babies. Actually I believe you belonged to your parents. So...
...moving on.
I'm doing this thing called '100 Days to Make Me a Better Person'. Look it up on Facebook, you'll find it. It's pretty much what it says on the box: You do one thing, every day that should, in theory, make you a better person. My interpretation of this was to write letters to people every day that either:
SO, risking being cheesy about it, I guess you've all helped me become a better person. Whether that's by testing my bloody patience to the extent that I've developed superhuman tolerance levels, by giving me something or someone other than myself to think about when I've been wrapped up in my own little teenage world, by making me smile, laugh (cry, scream etc.) and by giving me wonderful little humorous anecdotes to share with people.
I've said that I spent most of my teenage years babysitting and, had theatre not got in the way of that, I'd probably be doing that still. Spending a night getting drunk, jumping about in a club or even watching films with friends rarely came close to how much I loved babysitting y'all. I looked forward to each afternoon or evening I got to spend with you guys, organising what films we would watch, which books we would read, which games we would play- you mostly all threw my ideas out the window when I arrived but we tended to have a nice time nonetheless.
Screaming bathtimes and refusals to go to sleep aside I loved babysitting each and every one of you, and I'm thrilled I'm in touch with so many of you still. I like watching you all growing up, being in plays, reaching GCSE's, dating and starting your own babysitting jobs.
So I thought I'd end with a mini list of just some of my memories:
Love and Kisses,
Lucy
xxx
I know I know, you're NOT babies. I coined that phrase years ago to cover all of you en masse so that when people said, 'What're you doing tonight Lucy' I could say 'Looking after my babies'. And seeing that I babysat pretty constantly when I was younger this was something I had to say ALOT. I understand that you're not babies now and, even when you were, you were not my babies. Actually I believe you belonged to your parents. So...
...moving on.
I'm doing this thing called '100 Days to Make Me a Better Person'. Look it up on Facebook, you'll find it. It's pretty much what it says on the box: You do one thing, every day that should, in theory, make you a better person. My interpretation of this was to write letters to people every day that either:
a) I feel could do with receiving some kind words, a kick up the arse etc.
OR
b) People that I think have helped me become a better person.
OR
b) People that I think have helped me become a better person.
SO, risking being cheesy about it, I guess you've all helped me become a better person. Whether that's by testing my bloody patience to the extent that I've developed superhuman tolerance levels, by giving me something or someone other than myself to think about when I've been wrapped up in my own little teenage world, by making me smile, laugh (cry, scream etc.) and by giving me wonderful little humorous anecdotes to share with people.
I've said that I spent most of my teenage years babysitting and, had theatre not got in the way of that, I'd probably be doing that still. Spending a night getting drunk, jumping about in a club or even watching films with friends rarely came close to how much I loved babysitting y'all. I looked forward to each afternoon or evening I got to spend with you guys, organising what films we would watch, which books we would read, which games we would play- you mostly all threw my ideas out the window when I arrived but we tended to have a nice time nonetheless.
Screaming bathtimes and refusals to go to sleep aside I loved babysitting each and every one of you, and I'm thrilled I'm in touch with so many of you still. I like watching you all growing up, being in plays, reaching GCSE's, dating and starting your own babysitting jobs.
So I thought I'd end with a mini list of just some of my memories:
- Ben and Sarah for being the first kids I ever babysat.
- Sarah Brodie and Sarah Binney's obsessive reading, particularly in the evening when I was trying to switch lights off
- Watching George of the blooming jungle a record number of times BRODIES
- Sarah and Ben deciding that because I was being paid to look after them I was to be their slave
- Sarah Binney's poem that I still have about Hans the Clockmaker
- Hannah's drawing that I still have
- Angelo at 13 months old screaming for 5 hours straight until finally I called my mother and burst into tears myself
- Lucas and Michel jabbering away in French until they remembered I spoke mainly English
- Rasmus making me read a book in Danish and laughing hysterically every time I got a word wrong
- Oliver at 2 years old hitting me and refusing to go to sleep until he finally fell asleep in a warm little bundle in my arms
- Harry demanding I stay in his bed until he fell asleep and waking every time he felt me trying to leave
- Harry at 2/3 years old coming downstairs at 10pm, getting a fork out of the draw and eating the majority of my dinner. Didn't ask, just informed me that this was the plan.
- Stella showing me the beautiful pictures of her posing in the sunglass adverts
- Stella sneakily making sure I read a minimum of 4 books each night before she went to sleep
- Watching 101 Dalmatians with Hollie and Sam
- Not that I was an actual babysitter for these guys but cuddling with Jasmine, Thomas and James in Seymour whilst watching Bear Grylls was loverly!
- Playing the Game of Life with the twins
- Theo's cheeky little face that crumples into a grin every time he does something naughty which is...pretty much every day
- Moses getting lost in Wonderlab and the receiving the first of what was to be many of his lovely warm hugs when he found me.
- Moses giving me an interview for Joint Stock until Theo appeared from nowhere and tipped him off his chair
- Teaching Mo and Theo how to make Chocolate Easter Baskets
- Moses telling me every five minutes, 'I'm hungry Lucy'
- Super Heroes, Super Heroes, Super Heroes...
Love and Kisses,
Lucy
xxx
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Letter eight...what'll it be?
Dear Anyone-Who-Has-Ever-Been-Cast-Off-By-A-Lover,
This letter begins fairly self explanatorily I would venture. It's a common enough theme but something that isn't necessarily addressed enough (except, as Holli puts forth, in emo songs). The first bloom of love -this is a cliche, but so is said bloom- is breathtakingly exciting and beautiful in most cases. People, for the first time, learn what it is to share themselves with another human being, to create a partnership against the world, to laugh together and to create a secret little language made up of special words and specific body language. And then there is of course sex. Something that is considered central to the honeymoon period for most couples. For teenagers, disgusted by the concept of conversing about sexual activity with their parents, it is sometimes even more exciting as it has the element of rebelliousness and novelty about it.
I would never NEVER suggest warning people against throwing themselves fully into love and relationships. Regardless of what we're told, what we see in other people's partners' behaviour, how ridiculous we think it is when a friend doesn't call us for six weeks because she or he is so in love with their new squeeze etc., we still pay no heed to this knowledge when we've found our own love story. We think that the story is different for us. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn't. In fact often it isn't. I say this not to sound cynical but the truth is that the majority of us have had one or more failed relationships before we finally settle with THE ONE. Or, you know, A GOOD ONE. So it stands to reason that a large amount of us have had our hearts broken, been dumped, done the dumping and then regretted it etc...
We talk a lot about the role of friends in the post break up situation. You're supposed to go back and support your friend regardless of how badly he/she has abandoned you during the 'love-in' period. Because let's face it, the first time is a miracle, a never traversed-never to traverse again plain of experience in which you transcend logic and normal behaviour, and give in entirely to your emotions. So bad treatment of friends can perhaps be forgiven just this once.
But after listening to the stories from friends (and including my own) about the way you feel after the first relationship breaks down I sometimes wonder whether more is needed. Personally I said that it was the first time that I realised that emotion can actually become a physical pain. This is an oft repeated sensation as if the feeling that 'he/she was the only one for me', 'I'll never love again', 'no one else will ever want me like he/she did'. Other people committed petty acts of revenge, slept around, drank heavily, experimented with drugs or, in extreme cases, moved onto self harm and suicide attempts. It seems that romantic love is a dangerous business and one of the few vices that comes to you young and of which you remain a user for life. If people survive their first break-up (which obviously the majority do, let's not get carried away here) they are likely to hold back in future relationships. This is a sad sad thing. Yes, by all means protect yourself but don't ruin love for yourself. I myself can admit to being affected in this way after a bad breakup, but am learning that you lose more by staying 'safe'.
So I'm writing this letter to say:
Don't be scared. Romantic love can add so much excitement
and joy to your life. I'm jealous if you're still waiting for your
first love. It's a most wonderful sensation. Breaking up is, in
many many cases, extraordinarily painful. At the time you'll
ignore anything I or anything one else has said/will say to you.
You won't imagine your pain matches anything anyone else has
ever experienced. And perhaps you're right. I don't know. How
could I possibly know. I only know how I felt. And that was shit!
But I don't wish for you to avoid the pain of a break up. If it's a
way to ensure you ultimately get to be with the one who's perfect
for you, and you alone, then why bypass a bit of crap for a lifetime
of love?
This letter begins fairly self explanatorily I would venture. It's a common enough theme but something that isn't necessarily addressed enough (except, as Holli puts forth, in emo songs). The first bloom of love -this is a cliche, but so is said bloom- is breathtakingly exciting and beautiful in most cases. People, for the first time, learn what it is to share themselves with another human being, to create a partnership against the world, to laugh together and to create a secret little language made up of special words and specific body language. And then there is of course sex. Something that is considered central to the honeymoon period for most couples. For teenagers, disgusted by the concept of conversing about sexual activity with their parents, it is sometimes even more exciting as it has the element of rebelliousness and novelty about it.
I would never NEVER suggest warning people against throwing themselves fully into love and relationships. Regardless of what we're told, what we see in other people's partners' behaviour, how ridiculous we think it is when a friend doesn't call us for six weeks because she or he is so in love with their new squeeze etc., we still pay no heed to this knowledge when we've found our own love story. We think that the story is different for us. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn't. In fact often it isn't. I say this not to sound cynical but the truth is that the majority of us have had one or more failed relationships before we finally settle with THE ONE. Or, you know, A GOOD ONE. So it stands to reason that a large amount of us have had our hearts broken, been dumped, done the dumping and then regretted it etc...
We talk a lot about the role of friends in the post break up situation. You're supposed to go back and support your friend regardless of how badly he/she has abandoned you during the 'love-in' period. Because let's face it, the first time is a miracle, a never traversed-never to traverse again plain of experience in which you transcend logic and normal behaviour, and give in entirely to your emotions. So bad treatment of friends can perhaps be forgiven just this once.
But after listening to the stories from friends (and including my own) about the way you feel after the first relationship breaks down I sometimes wonder whether more is needed. Personally I said that it was the first time that I realised that emotion can actually become a physical pain. This is an oft repeated sensation as if the feeling that 'he/she was the only one for me', 'I'll never love again', 'no one else will ever want me like he/she did'. Other people committed petty acts of revenge, slept around, drank heavily, experimented with drugs or, in extreme cases, moved onto self harm and suicide attempts. It seems that romantic love is a dangerous business and one of the few vices that comes to you young and of which you remain a user for life. If people survive their first break-up (which obviously the majority do, let's not get carried away here) they are likely to hold back in future relationships. This is a sad sad thing. Yes, by all means protect yourself but don't ruin love for yourself. I myself can admit to being affected in this way after a bad breakup, but am learning that you lose more by staying 'safe'.
So I'm writing this letter to say:
Don't be scared. Romantic love can add so much excitement
and joy to your life. I'm jealous if you're still waiting for your
first love. It's a most wonderful sensation. Breaking up is, in
many many cases, extraordinarily painful. At the time you'll
ignore anything I or anything one else has said/will say to you.
You won't imagine your pain matches anything anyone else has
ever experienced. And perhaps you're right. I don't know. How
could I possibly know. I only know how I felt. And that was shit!
But I don't wish for you to avoid the pain of a break up. If it's a
way to ensure you ultimately get to be with the one who's perfect
for you, and you alone, then why bypass a bit of crap for a lifetime
of love?
All sorts of people will try and give you advice on life. Do listen to them. You never know what gems you'll pick up. But ultimately love is a solitary occupation. Except for your lover. You should probably share with them.
Lucy
Lucy
Monday, December 7, 2009
Letter seven...
Have you been watching I'm a Celebrity....? No me either. Nothing very exciting ever seems to happen on there. I reckon that once you've seen the first series you've seen 'em all. Although I do sneak a peek at the tabloids when I'm in Sainsburys because you never ever know when something might come along that tickles your fancy. And this week the news from the jungle tickled my fancy very very much. Nope...it wasn't whether Jordan/Katie and Peter will infact remarry and have another Cinderella wedding...nor whether Jordan/Kate and Alex Reid will infact marry inside a cage while Reid engages in a Cage Fight. Nor whether Jordan/Katie...actually it surprisingly had nothing to do with Jordan/Katie. No, what thrilled me beyond all belief was the news that Stuart Manning and Gino D'Acampo may well be facing criminal charges for killing and eating a rat on screen. It got me thinking about the fact that UK TV channels seem to be constantly airing things that get their contestants in trouble (think Frankie Boyle on Mock the Week) and though ITV must be given a concession due to the fact that their show is actually live I still thought I should offer a word of support to the 'victims' in this case. (I say 'victims' because in all these cases people have I suppose done something wrong. Even though I think it's been strange that TV Channels choose to broadcast sensitive material I'm not necessarily advocating the innocence of the contestants.)
Dear Stuart Manning and Gino D'Acampo,
I thought I would drop you a note to say that I think it is -though amusing from the outside- quite strange that you are facing charges for killing and eating a rat on I'm a Celebrity.... I'm sure it must be somewhat less amusing and a little more worrying for the two of you. I assume that, like many others, you went on the show to inject a little life into your careers and attract public attention. You probably weren't expecting to become criminals. I know they say all publicity is good publicity but...I'm not 100% certain I would necessarily be thrilled at the prospect of being summoned to court on...are they murder charges...mouseslaughter? I'm not really sure.
The papers outline the fact that you were only on a show, you weren't actually starving (although maybe quite hungry) so you probably didn't need to kill an animal. And before you claim that a rat isn't an animal I am the proud owner of a host of little gerbils so I'm quite attached to rodents. But this makes me wonder why you did kill the rat. Was it purely out of hunger? Were the cameras hidden so well that you forgot you weren't really surviving alone in the jungle and your manly hunter/gatherer instincts kicked in? Or were you really just hoping to attract a little attention?
Anyway I'm sure it'll all make sense soon. Possibly. Maybe. I'm not sure how serious a crime this is considered but I wish you all the best for your trial and hope it all works out for the best. Also I hope the rat risotto was nice.
Lucy
Dear Stuart Manning and Gino D'Acampo,
I thought I would drop you a note to say that I think it is -though amusing from the outside- quite strange that you are facing charges for killing and eating a rat on I'm a Celebrity.... I'm sure it must be somewhat less amusing and a little more worrying for the two of you. I assume that, like many others, you went on the show to inject a little life into your careers and attract public attention. You probably weren't expecting to become criminals. I know they say all publicity is good publicity but...I'm not 100% certain I would necessarily be thrilled at the prospect of being summoned to court on...are they murder charges...mouseslaughter? I'm not really sure.
The papers outline the fact that you were only on a show, you weren't actually starving (although maybe quite hungry) so you probably didn't need to kill an animal. And before you claim that a rat isn't an animal I am the proud owner of a host of little gerbils so I'm quite attached to rodents. But this makes me wonder why you did kill the rat. Was it purely out of hunger? Were the cameras hidden so well that you forgot you weren't really surviving alone in the jungle and your manly hunter/gatherer instincts kicked in? Or were you really just hoping to attract a little attention?
Anyway I'm sure it'll all make sense soon. Possibly. Maybe. I'm not sure how serious a crime this is considered but I wish you all the best for your trial and hope it all works out for the best. Also I hope the rat risotto was nice.
Lucy
Letter six...also somewhat delayed due to no internet
Dear Unemployed Actor,
It's pretty shit being you. I expect so at least. You've trained for a few years (University, Drama School, classes whatever route you decided to go), you've splashed out on Headshots, printing CV's, writing to hundreds of Theatre Companies, Film Companies etc. You may have even found an agent and completed two years of TIE. And now WHAT? WHAT? Well nothing's really happening is it? I mean you had an audition on Monday but that was the first one this month. You're pretty sure you're going to be moving back home next week unless you can persuade your boyfriend/girlfriend to let you move in with them despite the fact you KNOW your relationship isn't ready for that. You're taking on more and more part time work which started off being just promotions work (which you sort of squished onto your CV as Acting work) but now you're really just working in a bank. In fact it's starting to look less part time and more...well like you have a job. A JOB? Jeez. That's what you trained your ass off for?
Look...I write this to cheer you up. I know it doesn't seem that way, I'll probably get to the cheery bit soon. But I admit it's not entirely altruistic. I'm about to join you. Of course I hope I'm going to join the slightly more successful version of you BUT I'm not writing off the possibility that I might go through a um...resting period. And I'd like to be prepared. So let's have a joint pep talk. Okay? Okay.
So...we kinda knew this might happen. We can't say we weren't warned. No we were warned. We were warned numerous times. By numerous people. Sometimes people we didn't even know cornered us a dinner parties to ensure we understood the folly of our profession didn't they? But we smiled smugly, ensured them we understood and that we were well prepared. But really we weren't. We were living in a fantasy world, expecting to fall right into our first job and never look back. Why? Because some SOME people do. We've read about it in the Sunday Times Culture Supplement. But the reason that these have made the news is because they're not really the norm. The norm is you. What you're going through right now. Sorry, what WE'RE going through right now (theoretically of course, I may NEVER be in your situation...). So we have a choice. Are we going to stick with it or not? I mean let's be honest, that really is what it boils down to. There are factors that will affect this decision but ultimately you need to devote yourself as much as possible to your career if you're gonna run with it. Don't worry about letting people down, looking stupid etc. If this is NOT the career for you, if you really have had enough GET OUT! There are too many of us here anyway! But if your heart and soul are still in this job. If you still want to act more than you want anything else (perhaps not including family and friends: I feel that ambition doesn't necessarily need to be ruthless to be effective), if you truly believe you are good enough to get out there and put on a great performance...then go for it. Even if you need to step back, gather some cash and come back to it...make sure that you do. Don't take the easy route.
I believe in you. And I want to see your show!
Lucy xxx
It's pretty shit being you. I expect so at least. You've trained for a few years (University, Drama School, classes whatever route you decided to go), you've splashed out on Headshots, printing CV's, writing to hundreds of Theatre Companies, Film Companies etc. You may have even found an agent and completed two years of TIE. And now WHAT? WHAT? Well nothing's really happening is it? I mean you had an audition on Monday but that was the first one this month. You're pretty sure you're going to be moving back home next week unless you can persuade your boyfriend/girlfriend to let you move in with them despite the fact you KNOW your relationship isn't ready for that. You're taking on more and more part time work which started off being just promotions work (which you sort of squished onto your CV as Acting work) but now you're really just working in a bank. In fact it's starting to look less part time and more...well like you have a job. A JOB? Jeez. That's what you trained your ass off for?
Look...I write this to cheer you up. I know it doesn't seem that way, I'll probably get to the cheery bit soon. But I admit it's not entirely altruistic. I'm about to join you. Of course I hope I'm going to join the slightly more successful version of you BUT I'm not writing off the possibility that I might go through a um...resting period. And I'd like to be prepared. So let's have a joint pep talk. Okay? Okay.
So...we kinda knew this might happen. We can't say we weren't warned. No we were warned. We were warned numerous times. By numerous people. Sometimes people we didn't even know cornered us a dinner parties to ensure we understood the folly of our profession didn't they? But we smiled smugly, ensured them we understood and that we were well prepared. But really we weren't. We were living in a fantasy world, expecting to fall right into our first job and never look back. Why? Because some SOME people do. We've read about it in the Sunday Times Culture Supplement. But the reason that these have made the news is because they're not really the norm. The norm is you. What you're going through right now. Sorry, what WE'RE going through right now (theoretically of course, I may NEVER be in your situation...). So we have a choice. Are we going to stick with it or not? I mean let's be honest, that really is what it boils down to. There are factors that will affect this decision but ultimately you need to devote yourself as much as possible to your career if you're gonna run with it. Don't worry about letting people down, looking stupid etc. If this is NOT the career for you, if you really have had enough GET OUT! There are too many of us here anyway! But if your heart and soul are still in this job. If you still want to act more than you want anything else (perhaps not including family and friends: I feel that ambition doesn't necessarily need to be ruthless to be effective), if you truly believe you are good enough to get out there and put on a great performance...then go for it. Even if you need to step back, gather some cash and come back to it...make sure that you do. Don't take the easy route.
I believe in you. And I want to see your show!
Lucy xxx
Letter five...somewhat delayed to due no internet
Dear Mr and Mrs Kercher,
The biggest news of today -for me at least, for many others and, most importantly, for you- was the news that Amanda Knox was found guilty of your daughter Meredith's murder. People following the case on TV, in the newspapers etc. cheered at this result, feeling vindicated on your behalf, feeling glad that there was apparently no longer any 'mystery' to this story. So it was strange and humbling to read the news report on Sky News detailing your family's response to the verdict.
In this response none of you were quoted as saying anything derogatory regarding Amanda Knox or taking any glee in the fact that a young girl was being locked up for 26 years. Words like 'justice' or 'revenge' didn't come into it. You indicated that some sort of 'closure' had been reached for your family in court but that there would be no 'celebration' to commemorate this. Your family's thoughts were so clearly with Meredith on that day rather than the law, the arguments, the denials and all the rest of the horrible aspects regarding the case. They were instead located with your daughter, and your family showed such incredible dignity through your grief, sorrow and anger.
There's no question that this has been a case that has shaken many communities around the world. Even now that a verdict has been reached it seems that there are questions regarding the trial, whether the jury reached a correct and fair verdict etc. And sadly it is likely that these arguments may go on for some time. It is probably correct to assume that your family will be involved or, at least, notified of some or many of these appeals or future trials and I very much doubt that this is something you approach with any sort of relish. However I have no doubt that you will do anything but cope in the dignified way that you have thus far.
I suppose I would like to close this letter by wishing you well. Despite the fact that parents lose children more than anyone would care to admit, it is impossible to see your individual loss as anything other than devastating. I do not wish to write in order to patronize you or suggest I know how you feel or how you're coping. I would simply like to send you my best wishes. To say that I realise how awful the last few months must have been for you and I hope with all my heart that something or someone can ease the pain. I never met your daughter but her story with stay with me.
Kind Regards,
Lucy
The biggest news of today -for me at least, for many others and, most importantly, for you- was the news that Amanda Knox was found guilty of your daughter Meredith's murder. People following the case on TV, in the newspapers etc. cheered at this result, feeling vindicated on your behalf, feeling glad that there was apparently no longer any 'mystery' to this story. So it was strange and humbling to read the news report on Sky News detailing your family's response to the verdict.
In this response none of you were quoted as saying anything derogatory regarding Amanda Knox or taking any glee in the fact that a young girl was being locked up for 26 years. Words like 'justice' or 'revenge' didn't come into it. You indicated that some sort of 'closure' had been reached for your family in court but that there would be no 'celebration' to commemorate this. Your family's thoughts were so clearly with Meredith on that day rather than the law, the arguments, the denials and all the rest of the horrible aspects regarding the case. They were instead located with your daughter, and your family showed such incredible dignity through your grief, sorrow and anger.
There's no question that this has been a case that has shaken many communities around the world. Even now that a verdict has been reached it seems that there are questions regarding the trial, whether the jury reached a correct and fair verdict etc. And sadly it is likely that these arguments may go on for some time. It is probably correct to assume that your family will be involved or, at least, notified of some or many of these appeals or future trials and I very much doubt that this is something you approach with any sort of relish. However I have no doubt that you will do anything but cope in the dignified way that you have thus far.
I suppose I would like to close this letter by wishing you well. Despite the fact that parents lose children more than anyone would care to admit, it is impossible to see your individual loss as anything other than devastating. I do not wish to write in order to patronize you or suggest I know how you feel or how you're coping. I would simply like to send you my best wishes. To say that I realise how awful the last few months must have been for you and I hope with all my heart that something or someone can ease the pain. I never met your daughter but her story with stay with me.
Kind Regards,
Lucy
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Letter three...
I write this whilst listening to 'Zero to Hero' from the famed Disney movie Hercules.
Just thought you'd like to know.
So...
...about a few of my personal heroes.
Ugh, that was quite honestly the most tenuous segway I could possibly have constructed. You're quite right to feel so deeply disappointed at me. I'm sorry. Really I could've done better. I've actually switched it off now. The singer ladies were getting a little bit screachy.
So anyone still hanging in there please come with me on this journey. This miraculous journey to thank...you've guessed it...my family. NO! Please read on. I'm not going to be writing anything so soppy that you'll feel that I'm a) showing off about my awesome family or b) using this as the opportunity to practise my Oscar speech. I really just want to point out to my clan what they've done for me and, perhaps in the process, let others realise the power they have to affect other peoples' outlooks or future opportunities in life.
Today I was in a Theatre Seminar with a lovely Producer who came in to teach the class at my University. I've studied Theatre and Drama for three years now and often felt incredibly 'out of it'. I've sat pretty much sulking in group projects when my ideas seem to be scoffed at, I've glared accusingly at derogatory grades on papers and portfolios I slaved over, I've sat listening to lectures and watching staff and student recommended productions in complete confusion. I've raved over musicals, cabaret and ummm...men in dresses and been met with blank stares or, worse, smirks. To be quite honest I was starting to feel stupid, talentless and out of touch. I mean this hasn't of course been a constant feeling, more a nagging, hiding, growing sort of dread, and I certainly began to banish such thoughts whilst studying theatre in America.
But today...TODAY...it's finally dropped into place. As I listened to a man working in theatre, answering questions such as 'Why do you want to be in Theatre Lucy?', giving my opinion on shows I've seen, actors I've heard of etc., all I could think was THANK YOU MUM, DAD AND GRANDMA!!! Thank you for introducing me to theatre at the tender age of 2, taking me to see Postman Pat the uh musical, onstage, live....whatever that particular spectacle was called, thank you for taking me to see Disney on Ice, Hot Shoe Shuffle, Five Guys Named Mo, Kat and the Kings (especially Kat and the Kings!), Guys and Dolls, Oklahoma!, Sweet Charity (though that particular production was spoken of with vitriol on the radio today), An Inspector Calls, Mamma Mia, Forbidden Broadway...there are literally dozens to choose from.
Though there are hundreds, even thousands of people fighting me tooth and nail to work in this profession. Though these people might be more disciplined, more beautiful and sexy, more intelligent, more logical than me. Though have I often realised the folly of entering such a profession, though I've questioned my talent, ability and looks a trillion times, I realised something today. And that is that I have been born into a family that, though they would have preferred me (DAD) to go to Cambridge to learn Mandarin and Law, have nonetheless given me the best backing ever to go into showbusiness, theatre, call it what you will. Because they've given me a breadth of theatrical experience that many are not lucky enough to have received, the opportunity to see audiences interact with different shows, to stand at stage doors to shake hands with my favourite actors, get them to sign my programmes and breathe in the sweet scent of someone who has just stepped off the most exciting and heavenly place in the world to me (except maybe Mummy's hugs- whoa that was unnaturally sickly sweet of me). The need for, the understanding of and the appreciation of Theatre is deep inside me, and thats thanks to them.
I really wanted to write this because, although I've always been thrilled at our trips to the theatre, it's only really today that I've understood the implications of this on the rest of my life. I've listed a huge amount of theatre related life history above but really it's only been one of many aspects of my life bequeathed on me and strengthened by my parents. It's just the one I'm talking about today. I've seen, befriended, dated and loved people whose outlooks on life, treatment of waiters, shopkeepers, nurses, children etc., love of reading, career decisions etc....have been coloured, shaped or even dictated by their parents, siblings or older friends' impacts on them.
So I thought I'd post this so that you look back and consider what impact your family or older friends have had on your life. Not necessarily in paying for expensive theatre tickets or taking you on holidays but perhaps just by the way they've lived their lives, the way they've looked out for you, how they've handled situations where you've been picked on or felt lost and scared. Perhaps you'll be surprised to find where one of your passions began, who was responsible for it and who fed or enabled it to grow and lead you to your niche in the world. Or read this and understand that you can be the one to introduce your children, younger siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews to the things this world can offer. You'll certainly have an impact, affect a decision, change a mind...And maybe, just maybe, you'll be responsible for helping them find their place in life.
This wasn't a letter to make me a better person. I lied. This was a letter to pay homage to those who made me a better person and to encourage you to do the same.
Lucy
P.S. Sofi I am NOT a goody two shoes for writing this. You suck and I love you xxxx
Just thought you'd like to know.
So...
...about a few of my personal heroes.
Ugh, that was quite honestly the most tenuous segway I could possibly have constructed. You're quite right to feel so deeply disappointed at me. I'm sorry. Really I could've done better. I've actually switched it off now. The singer ladies were getting a little bit screachy.
So anyone still hanging in there please come with me on this journey. This miraculous journey to thank...you've guessed it...my family. NO! Please read on. I'm not going to be writing anything so soppy that you'll feel that I'm a) showing off about my awesome family or b) using this as the opportunity to practise my Oscar speech. I really just want to point out to my clan what they've done for me and, perhaps in the process, let others realise the power they have to affect other peoples' outlooks or future opportunities in life.
Today I was in a Theatre Seminar with a lovely Producer who came in to teach the class at my University. I've studied Theatre and Drama for three years now and often felt incredibly 'out of it'. I've sat pretty much sulking in group projects when my ideas seem to be scoffed at, I've glared accusingly at derogatory grades on papers and portfolios I slaved over, I've sat listening to lectures and watching staff and student recommended productions in complete confusion. I've raved over musicals, cabaret and ummm...men in dresses and been met with blank stares or, worse, smirks. To be quite honest I was starting to feel stupid, talentless and out of touch. I mean this hasn't of course been a constant feeling, more a nagging, hiding, growing sort of dread, and I certainly began to banish such thoughts whilst studying theatre in America.
But today...TODAY...it's finally dropped into place. As I listened to a man working in theatre, answering questions such as 'Why do you want to be in Theatre Lucy?', giving my opinion on shows I've seen, actors I've heard of etc., all I could think was THANK YOU MUM, DAD AND GRANDMA!!! Thank you for introducing me to theatre at the tender age of 2, taking me to see Postman Pat the uh musical, onstage, live....whatever that particular spectacle was called, thank you for taking me to see Disney on Ice, Hot Shoe Shuffle, Five Guys Named Mo, Kat and the Kings (especially Kat and the Kings!), Guys and Dolls, Oklahoma!, Sweet Charity (though that particular production was spoken of with vitriol on the radio today), An Inspector Calls, Mamma Mia, Forbidden Broadway...there are literally dozens to choose from.
Though there are hundreds, even thousands of people fighting me tooth and nail to work in this profession. Though these people might be more disciplined, more beautiful and sexy, more intelligent, more logical than me. Though have I often realised the folly of entering such a profession, though I've questioned my talent, ability and looks a trillion times, I realised something today. And that is that I have been born into a family that, though they would have preferred me (DAD) to go to Cambridge to learn Mandarin and Law, have nonetheless given me the best backing ever to go into showbusiness, theatre, call it what you will. Because they've given me a breadth of theatrical experience that many are not lucky enough to have received, the opportunity to see audiences interact with different shows, to stand at stage doors to shake hands with my favourite actors, get them to sign my programmes and breathe in the sweet scent of someone who has just stepped off the most exciting and heavenly place in the world to me (except maybe Mummy's hugs- whoa that was unnaturally sickly sweet of me). The need for, the understanding of and the appreciation of Theatre is deep inside me, and thats thanks to them.
I really wanted to write this because, although I've always been thrilled at our trips to the theatre, it's only really today that I've understood the implications of this on the rest of my life. I've listed a huge amount of theatre related life history above but really it's only been one of many aspects of my life bequeathed on me and strengthened by my parents. It's just the one I'm talking about today. I've seen, befriended, dated and loved people whose outlooks on life, treatment of waiters, shopkeepers, nurses, children etc., love of reading, career decisions etc....have been coloured, shaped or even dictated by their parents, siblings or older friends' impacts on them.
So I thought I'd post this so that you look back and consider what impact your family or older friends have had on your life. Not necessarily in paying for expensive theatre tickets or taking you on holidays but perhaps just by the way they've lived their lives, the way they've looked out for you, how they've handled situations where you've been picked on or felt lost and scared. Perhaps you'll be surprised to find where one of your passions began, who was responsible for it and who fed or enabled it to grow and lead you to your niche in the world. Or read this and understand that you can be the one to introduce your children, younger siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews to the things this world can offer. You'll certainly have an impact, affect a decision, change a mind...And maybe, just maybe, you'll be responsible for helping them find their place in life.
This wasn't a letter to make me a better person. I lied. This was a letter to pay homage to those who made me a better person and to encourage you to do the same.
Lucy
P.S. Sofi I am NOT a goody two shoes for writing this. You suck and I love you xxxx
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Letter two...
Matt Herndon is a boy. He is a very nice boy. A very nice boy indeed. I met him at University in the USA, loved him immensely and have only kept vaguely in touch with him. Often since then thoughts of him have passed through my mind and, when a beautiful little lady suggested that I write todays 'one of a hundred' letters to him, I immediately understood the wisdom of this. If anyone can teach me how to be a better person it's Matt.
Dear Matt,
I'd like to begin this letter by pointing out that though I am without doubt a friend of yours and, I hope, vice versa, we have never been particularly close or had a 'bff' type relationship. I say that not to offend or beg (since I'm pretty certain we will one day reach this level) but to point out just how wonderful you really are. Despite the fact that I can currently only say we are 'casual friends' or 'close acquaintances' I feel obligated to write a letter to tell you what a ridiculously wonderful person you are.
I'm not doing this because you're going through a hard patch, run out of money, recently dumped etc. because none of those things are true or, if they are, I don't know about them. I'm writing to you because when I asked people who buoys them up, makes them smile or is there when they need someone it is your name that repeatedly comes up. So who is this singular female (for she is a female) that specifically told me to write to you today? Who loves you so much? Who so you may indeed ask. I shan't share. She may or may not decide to tell you but, regardless of this possibility, she's out there, around you and adores you...quite rightly of course.
Please Matt, stop blushing. For once just sit down and listen to us tell you the following. YOU...ARE...COOL. You're cooler than cool, you're icy cool, you're...this is getting embarrassing even for me actually. You're no Saint of course, even you do shitty things...I mean I've never actually seen nor heard tell of these things BUT I'm certain you can't really be perfect. You are, however, a very interesting young man: exciting to be around, pleasurable to meet and comforting to have as a friend and ally. I, like others, can be certain of aid or kind words if I reach out to you for them. Even something as simple as agreeing to be in a new, scared and silly little English students Directing I scene and, may it be pointed out, doing a kickass job of it, brought happiness to ahem...that one little silly English student, not to mention the rest of the cast and the audience who enjoyed your performance immensely (if McGibbon's marking was anything to go by ;)). Working with you in the US I learnt that you're a truly decent guy, great to be around when things get tough, always willing to go the extra mile and sticking with any commitments or promises made no matter what the circumstances. Teachers and students alike are awed by your talent and your attitude. Amongst other things I've been asked to comment on your sense of humour, your big smile, your generosity, your humility, your supportiveness and the fact that you never have a bad word to say about anyone.
I'll stop now. I realise that you're partly happy about this, partly embarrassed and, quite possibly, wondering if people are gonna think you've engineered this whole thing to look smug. Oh you weren't thinking that. Hmmm. So I'll just sign off by saying that I miss you a lot, I am so glad I got to meet you, work with you and laugh with you. It sounds like you're still busy being Matt so continue the good work and I'll see you soon I hope.
Lucy
P.S. Don't feel that this letter means you have to go on being such a virtuous being. You can break out and rebel now. It's all in writing to show what a morally efficient person you've been up to now.
Dear Matt,
I'd like to begin this letter by pointing out that though I am without doubt a friend of yours and, I hope, vice versa, we have never been particularly close or had a 'bff' type relationship. I say that not to offend or beg (since I'm pretty certain we will one day reach this level) but to point out just how wonderful you really are. Despite the fact that I can currently only say we are 'casual friends' or 'close acquaintances' I feel obligated to write a letter to tell you what a ridiculously wonderful person you are.
I'm not doing this because you're going through a hard patch, run out of money, recently dumped etc. because none of those things are true or, if they are, I don't know about them. I'm writing to you because when I asked people who buoys them up, makes them smile or is there when they need someone it is your name that repeatedly comes up. So who is this singular female (for she is a female) that specifically told me to write to you today? Who loves you so much? Who so you may indeed ask. I shan't share. She may or may not decide to tell you but, regardless of this possibility, she's out there, around you and adores you...quite rightly of course.
Please Matt, stop blushing. For once just sit down and listen to us tell you the following. YOU...ARE...COOL. You're cooler than cool, you're icy cool, you're...this is getting embarrassing even for me actually. You're no Saint of course, even you do shitty things...I mean I've never actually seen nor heard tell of these things BUT I'm certain you can't really be perfect. You are, however, a very interesting young man: exciting to be around, pleasurable to meet and comforting to have as a friend and ally. I, like others, can be certain of aid or kind words if I reach out to you for them. Even something as simple as agreeing to be in a new, scared and silly little English students Directing I scene and, may it be pointed out, doing a kickass job of it, brought happiness to ahem...that one little silly English student, not to mention the rest of the cast and the audience who enjoyed your performance immensely (if McGibbon's marking was anything to go by ;)). Working with you in the US I learnt that you're a truly decent guy, great to be around when things get tough, always willing to go the extra mile and sticking with any commitments or promises made no matter what the circumstances. Teachers and students alike are awed by your talent and your attitude. Amongst other things I've been asked to comment on your sense of humour, your big smile, your generosity, your humility, your supportiveness and the fact that you never have a bad word to say about anyone.
I'll stop now. I realise that you're partly happy about this, partly embarrassed and, quite possibly, wondering if people are gonna think you've engineered this whole thing to look smug. Oh you weren't thinking that. Hmmm. So I'll just sign off by saying that I miss you a lot, I am so glad I got to meet you, work with you and laugh with you. It sounds like you're still busy being Matt so continue the good work and I'll see you soon I hope.
Lucy
P.S. Don't feel that this letter means you have to go on being such a virtuous being. You can break out and rebel now. It's all in writing to show what a morally efficient person you've been up to now.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Letter one!
After joining forces with my mother and scouring the Evening Standard (NOW FREE in London...sometimes, not always) (http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/standard/article-23777607-thank-you-london-says-sudanese-woman-jailed-for-wearing-trousers-london.do) I decided to write to Lubna Hussein, the Sudanese woman jailed for wearing trousers in Sudan. To be fair, it is illegal in Sudan for women to dress 'indecently' under article 152 of the criminal law (http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/aug/02/sudan-women-dress-code), so she was arrested for a crime (of sorts) rather than just the simple act of wearing trousers. However she did so to make a point, that point being that the aforesaid 'simple act of wearing trousers' should not be against the law and furthermore to highlight the way that women are treated under Sudanese Law.
Dear Ms. Hussein,
I'm writing to you to congratulate you on your bravery and courage in your fight against the Sudanese law you so disagree with. Although I have researched your situation I can't pretend to truly understand the situation inside and out, or to have a working knowledge of Sudanese Law and precisely how it affects women.
However, as you have been quoted in the Evening Standard as thanking Londoners for their support in your fight I feel that, as a Londoner, I'm in some way now part of a dynamic linking London to you and your struggle. Due to this position I suddenly find myself in, I've decided I have three options:
I'm writing to you to congratulate you on your bravery and courage in your fight against the Sudanese law you so disagree with. Although I have researched your situation I can't pretend to truly understand the situation inside and out, or to have a working knowledge of Sudanese Law and precisely how it affects women.
However, as you have been quoted in the Evening Standard as thanking Londoners for their support in your fight I feel that, as a Londoner, I'm in some way now part of a dynamic linking London to you and your struggle. Due to this position I suddenly find myself in, I've decided I have three options:
1.) To ignore you and your situation altogether
2.) To reject your beliefs
3.) To support your beliefs
2.) To reject your beliefs
3.) To support your beliefs
The first would just be churlish considering the amount of effort you've put into this case and the risk you've put yourself at. The least I can do is consider your argument. Having done so, despite questioning certain aspects of your case (e.g. why is it so important to wear trousers, shorter skirts etc. for women in Sudan? Or is this just a very small act of defiance to highlight a much larger problem?), I find it impossible to reject the passionate beliefs that you must hold in order to lead what seems to me to be a genuine and dangerous fight for womens rights.
So I've decided that I'm impressed, shocked and awed by your situation, your actions and your insistence on making a difference. I know some people are accusing you of exaggerating the situation for women in Sudan in order to make yourself a public figure. I can't of course prove that this isn't the case but, as far as I can see, a women who gives up her immunity offered by a job in the UN and willingly submits to the possibility of whipping in order to make her voice heard probably has higher things on her mind than getting her photo into the paper for the sake of celebrity.
I read that you were planning to write to show your support to the family of the 16 year old girl recently lashed in Sudan for wearing a knee-length skirt. I am therefore writing this letter to show my support to you. To say well done for your actions, your strength and your courage. You've shown yourself to be a strong lady and I hope you achieve all you intend to. Also...thank you for your flattery of us Londoners!
Lucy
So I've decided that I'm impressed, shocked and awed by your situation, your actions and your insistence on making a difference. I know some people are accusing you of exaggerating the situation for women in Sudan in order to make yourself a public figure. I can't of course prove that this isn't the case but, as far as I can see, a women who gives up her immunity offered by a job in the UN and willingly submits to the possibility of whipping in order to make her voice heard probably has higher things on her mind than getting her photo into the paper for the sake of celebrity.
I read that you were planning to write to show your support to the family of the 16 year old girl recently lashed in Sudan for wearing a knee-length skirt. I am therefore writing this letter to show my support to you. To say well done for your actions, your strength and your courage. You've shown yourself to be a strong lady and I hope you achieve all you intend to. Also...thank you for your flattery of us Londoners!
Lucy
Day one!
Facebook does many things. Some good, some bad. Gneh...so goes the world. On this occasion it's done something very very good...It's led me to the world of Josie Long and 'A Hundred Days to Make Me a Better Person'. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not under any illusion that I'm perfect- I'm far far away from that, even in my parents eyes! However, after mulling over the whole shebang for a while I still couldn't think of anything specific to do that would a) make me a better person and b) I could really truly and honestly commit to doing for 100 days. So I considered what a 'better me' would be and decided that I'm so busy at university and in trying to kickstart a career that I'm often concerned that I don't do enough to reach out to others. I then posed the question 'What could I do for 100 days that would benefit as many other people as possible?'. The decision was immediate and unanimous (both my brain and uh...soul agreed) that I would write to one person somewhere in the world every day that I think needs some words: be they simply kind words, an expression of sympathy or understanding...perhaps even a word of encouragement or a kick up the arse. I have no idea as of yet who I'm going to write to, what I'm going to say, if I'll get any replies or, indeed, if my letters will even be welcomed. But I intend to do it. And I'm starting today....now infact.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
