WARNING. (Again in case you didn't read the title.) This blog contains many, MANY swear words. If you are under 16, of a sensitive disposition (I know most of us are right now) or if you’re easily offended, I probably wouldn’t read it. All views are my own and in no way intended to piss anyone off. Most things are sarcastic. Don’t take it too seriously. I did warn you... look away now. OK... you’re still reading? Well then you probably want to know that I am sat in my crusty, unwashed pyjamas. Not some sexy red lingerie or active wear. I’ve been in them all day along with one of my stagey show hoodies. I just ripped off half of my toenail... with my own heel... both are now bleeding. Why the universe wants to punish me for wanting to write down my thoughts I have no idea. I plan to maybe go for a walk tomorrow. I'm gonna wear my show hoodie to feel like I actually exist and I'm not in a weird dream. I haven't found the time to write in months. Ironic since now all I have is fucking time. Time, time and more time stretching into forever. Time to think about my failure to write... apart from in my £14.99 ‘Gratitude Journal’ I bought from Anthropologie along with a candle that smells like Earl grey, before the global pandemic. (If I counted the pennies back then like I am now, I would be so rich.) It's basically a stupid blank book with some motivational quotes about being grateful. What a load of shit. Still, I buy these things in a desperate bid to become a better person rather than the shitty one I’m always telling myself I am. I thought this would be the perfect time to write again though. The birds are so happy they are pissing me off. I’m bored, you’re bored. Turns out we all have nothing better to do than read a semi-angry blog I wrote. If any of the things I write in my blog apply to you, or rather you THINK they apply to you – don't be offended. I care about you, and your life, but I don’t care how you get by. It’s probably not about you anyway so get over yourself. If you're reading this... I won't actually know you're reading it... unless you tell me. It will be like our little secret. My eyebrows are like a caveman’s. My SNS nail polish I got two days before my show closed is growing and growing and growing. My nails are so long they can slither down the banister and turn on the telly when I’m still upstairs. This may not seem important in the grand scheme of things but it’s another £40 I could have used to buy more hand wash. I’m going to attempt to crack the Guiness World Record of the longest nails and let them get all brown and curly. I already cut my own hair and it looks pretty good to be fair. Next up is one of those crap videos of me having a Britney breakdown and shaving it all off. I've always wanted to. By the way, I’m not making fun of mental health issues cos I have them myself... that’s only OK when I say it. Saying that, I have just bought myself a new laptop. Yep. Ordered it online and it arrived by courier (standing far away) to my doorstep. Now regretting that £900-odd decision however, since I don’t know when I’m next going to get paid again. You have to laugh or you would cry, right? I could send it back to the fruit-inspired retailer and am told they will give me full refund... but it’s too late... it’s got crisp crumbs in the keyboard and I’m writing this blog. No going back now. Welcome to lockdown. The month is Aprilary. The year is 2020 - I think. I am listening to a clip called ‘3 hours of Tibetan Singing Bowls Meditation Music’ whilst typing trying to convince my body that it is not hungry and instead, bored. I’m not saying I’m over eating at all but I can't see my fucking feet anymore. I love crisps (every flavour) so much and I can’t stop eating them. Bread has never been more important in my life. I just place big slabs of butter onto whole loaves whilst wiping my arse on the 300 toilet rolls I bought, in order to prepare for these dark times. I watch all these exercise tutorials from people who are not qualified to teach exercise but, ask you to ‘donate into my Monzo account huns’ (whilst sitting down and eating my fifty loaves.) Then I look at myself in the mirror and punish myself for being a lazy bitch. I watch movies all day about global mass extinction and Joe Exotic. I feel sorry for him. I totally connect with him ranting in his online videos. We all know she killed her husband. I have no doubt I’m not the only one but I literally can't be arsed to do anything. Days roll by like the oblivion. I have exactly zero motivation most days to deal with this utter fuck-fest we are in. I cannot listen to one more person tell be to ‘be positive’ cos I’m not. If you’re not either, hooray! Let's be ungrateful together, right here and now because I’m giving you permission - you're allowed to feel shit. I can’t post motivational quotes on Instagram and take pictures in my workout clothes when I’m not fucking working out! I haven’t washed my hair in two weeks and I found enough fluff in my bellybutton to make a decent cotton bud. I know I’m not alone on that one – I've seen your greasy selfies. You just put on some Rimmel and used a ring light. I keep hearing people spout on about the fact that ‘all we have to do it sit inside and watch Netflix.’ ‘At least we don’t have to worry about our homes being bombed...’ I understand that Gandhi and let me just brush away the butterflies and bees buzzing around your asshole to tell you that I really AM the most sympathetic person that walked the earth. I frequently cry about sad things I can do nothing about. Yes, I KNOW this is the first time this has happened, we are all in it together. I feel very guilty every time I don’t have change for a homeless person because yes, at least I have a bloody home to isolate in. BUT I am still allowed to struggle with this. I have built my existence on being social, moving at a fast pace, working a dynamic job and my mind needs this to survive having a bloody breakdown. Having a mind like this is pretty hard work. Everything is a challenge. I love meditation and mindfulness – I practise it every day... but there’s no way we can meditate our way out of this shit. I would definitely appreciate not being told about all the happy things I can be doing with all this time I have. I posted a video on my Insta of a happy moment I had in a field and then deleted it again because I just felt false. It was a genuine happy moment but I still. Felt. False. This blog is what I’m ACTUALLY thinking about 90% of the time I’m not on a nice walk... Thousands of people have lost their lives to an unknown and deadly virus. Wtf?! I have two knitting projects on the go – both hideous colours of wool which I will never finish or wear. I have started puzzles and not finished them because I hate puzzles. I still torture myself by buying them and driving myself further into insanity because Jessica on Insta had a puzzle so I got one too. I saw that new girl Cady wearing army pants and flip flops, so I bought army pants and flip flops... you get the picture. I have painted a picture. Its abstract done with a palette knife, various layers and time with shades of blue. I got an A* in my art A-Level (not boasting or anything) and when I showed it to a 5-year-old over FaceTime yesterday she said: ‘what is it?’ I said: ‘it's the ocean.’ She said: ‘it doesn’t look like the ocean... the ocean doesn’t have grey in it.’ I said: ‘well its abstract, so it doesn’t look exactly like the ocean.’ Even 5-year-olds don’t like my fucking artwork. I have made some crystal pendants for my bloody little Etsy shop but the crystals seem to be faulty because my energy is pure bleak fam. As well as my pendants, I have started to learn Macramé because whilst on a calming woodland walk in my show hoodie, I found a bit of wood with dog teeth marks on it. I felt inspired and painted it white to hang my Macramé – it's not bad actually. Genuinely proud of that one. Due to the fact that the shit has well and truly hit the fan, I have sat and re-evaluated my life and talked with myself over and over about why I chose to be an Actress and Singer. It seems to be in a global crisis, that our wonderful government doesn’t give a shit about Actors and Singers like me and their knitting projects. Despite listening to Michael Ball and Alfie Boe on repeat in their posh fucking houses with their uninterrupted organic veg deliveries. Now is the time when I question why I didn’t become a surgeon like I wanted to back in the day. Yet again my decision comes back to haunt me. It always comes down to bloody money over passion, doesn’t it? I hate money. I never seem to have enough of it. No matter how many times I tell myself I am rich in spirit, love and family, I still need money to exist and live. Let’s face it, money isn’t everything, but it sure fucking helps. Most actors live week to week and don’t have a mortgage because they CAN’T GET ONE. They have 4 jobs to pay off their drama school loans and their 795pcm rent in London for a single room in Acton. Rich people posting motivational quotes online during this time mates my blood boil. Families across the globe will go to sleep tonight completely destroyed mentally by the worries that lack of money brings. Meanwhile Kim Kardashian shows off her children’s ‘playroom’ complete with supermarket. I bet that store is still stocked-a-plenty with beans and bog roll. Also, kudos to Kim for making all that money doing nothing in the first place – I'm just jealous. I LOVE what I do. I love performing and I have whole-heartedly constructed a career for myself where I don’t have to be myself. According to my therapist - this was completely on purpose. She thinks I don’t enjoy being myself and I LIKE pretending to be other people. Pfft. I was once told I over-shared online so I cut back on my posting and videos because I started to see other people’s videos as cringe-fests. Well, look at me now... because I'm going to share exactly what I bloody like. I like sharing. As creatives, aren’t we all just sharing our ideas and seeking validation 100% of the time? I don’t trust anyone who says they perform for others... It is always for ourselves. Yes, some performers say it’s purely a selfless act but I think that’s bollocks. It makes me feel happy to share my gift (lol) and have people enjoy it and feel inspired. I always wanted to help people and now I’m feeling selfish and ungrateful again because I’m whinging about money. I don’t want to go and work at bloody Tesco for funny Instagram content. Guess what? It's not funny. Actors who post those career announcements about supermarkets and make a joke out of it do not think about the people whose job that actually IS. You’re working at Tesco? SO WHAT. Nobody cares Carol. I find it highly amusing that all these non-famous self-employed actors are suddenly getting ‘Cameo.’ No Clive, I don’t want to pay you £26 to say Happy Birthday to my friend Pauline because you’ve been in one West End show! I’ll do it for free! I've been in 5 West End shows... not including 3 pantos, regional and touring productions. (Prob won’t be employed again after this offensive blog though...) If you think you can charge some poor teenager to say Hello to them in a video of you singing ‘Memory’ from Cats, then you need to seriously look at yourself. There are definitely other ways of making money from your art that doesn’t play on innocent people’s good nature. I think it makes you look greedy hun. Bloody Cameo?! The irony is they ask you how many followers you have when you try to sign up... but most people signing up have purchased all their damn followers. If I need some shopping money though, I’ll be sure to sign up. Again... no offence meant if you have Cameo cos times is indeed 'ard... but you have to think a lot of yourself to sign yourself up to that. Unless you're genuinely inundated with requests from people asking you to say Happy B'Day to their friend Pauline... Anywayyyy, I probably shouldn’t have bought myself a laptop but I thought, fuck it! If we are going to be stuck inside for weeks, then I may as well enjoy YouTube videos of blackhead extraction and Korean street food on a large screen, rather than my phone. I mean, look at me... I need two devices these days! I never knew there was so many different ways to make eggs on toast with some kind of cheese and cabbage... N.B. I tried to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich yesterday after watching a street food video but, when you use Violife vegan cheese - its total shite. I’m also doing another qualification course at the moment (go me) to save myself from the shittiness of being a future unemployed performer. Having a laptop allows me to type up my assignments about attachment theory rather than handwrite them all in quill and ink. Back in September 2019 I think it was... I flew to the USA to see my bestie and then to Australia to see my old nanny family and other bestie get married. I had some amazing time out before work started again and got fat in the process. I took my laptop and carted all of my recording equipment to the other side of the world in case I had to record a voiceover demo. I did get some demos would you believe it... but I couldn’t fucking record them. Why? My laptop was too busy going for a dip in the on-board swimming pool that was; my rucksack and an entire bottle of water. That’s the last time I try to be eco-friendly and lovingly cart my eco, glass water bottle to the other side of the world when the lid doesn’t fucking close properly. The worst part is that I was 3 hours into the flight before I realised my water bottle was empty and my laptop was... very wet. Bless Wendy the cabin manager though, delicately placing it into a cupboard upside down and giving me a sympathetic smile through her pink gloss-stained teeth. It never turned on again. RIP laptop. When I landed, my friend’s husband and I even made an upside-down drying unit constructed with fans and a sheet after watching a video tutorial about that and something about rice. I know I sound like an ungrateful bitch and yes, some people can’t afford a laptop in their wildest dreams, but this is my real world and my fuck up and it’s all relative and all that bollocks. My old laptop still has my children’s books I wrote on it... I try not to worry about this since Randy at the fruit-inspired laptop shop in Minneapolis said that they can be recovered from the hard drive or some shit because that wasn’t water damaged somehow – unlike the rest of my entire old computer. Every cloud has a silver lining! Also you may be thinking I probably shouldn't write children's book since I'm so passive aggressive... BUT funnily enough, I'm actually OK at making up children's stories and being a nanny. I'm pretty childish. I feel like a walking contradiction because I want to be positive online and only share happy things but I also need to share this. I need to reach out and talk to people who feel the same as me. I'M FED UP of posting woodland pictures on Instagram and pretending I’m feeling grateful and happy when I actually feel stuck and sad. I have been thinking of doing webcam work whilst wearing a mask because it’s the closest I will get to any action and if you are going to sell your body, a global pandemic seems like the perfect time! Nobody would know it was me and I could genuinely walk around with no clothes on and get paid for it. That or I could become a Corona-free escort girl, driving around London in my Mum’s Ford and shacking up with millionaires who have private islands to isolate on. (We would fly there from London on their private jets.) I feel lonely in this... To be clear, all we need to do is survive at this time. We don’t need to complete daily to do lists. For some people, surviving may indeed be re-organising their wardrobe 10 times and making cakes, for others it may be crying and eating. It may be doing a mixture of both. Maybe you’re reading all those ‘self-care’ to do lists online and sleeping until 2pm. It’s all good baby. You survive how you need to survive. I should remind myself not to look at old videos of myself happy and in a musical though... fake tan really does help you look good. I really want to be grateful. I want to look outside at the sunny day and the beautiful surroundings and feel glad. I want to be positive on ‘social media’ and post dancing videos and yoga tips. I want to keep making beautiful craft projects. The truth is, people have no idea what’s happening inside your mind at any given moment. Uncertainty is the huge block holding me back. I really don’t do well with uncertainty - I MEAN, WHO DOES? Some people who love the adventure of ‘not knowing.’ My Mum is fighting Cancer again at the moment so I’m trying to decide whether or not I risk her life, or spend precious time with her. Go figure. We all have our own battles and it’s not good to compare your worries to the worries of others who seem to be worse off. It’s not good for your soul. Do what you gotta do to get by, my darling. My neighbours are all so lovely except the Wicked Witch of Amersham next door. (Hope she doesn't read this.) For some reason... she doesn’t like me. I always smile and wave but I genuinely think some people are just jobsworths. She tapped on my kitchen window yesterday and mouthed: ‘can you put your car round the back?’ No ‘please,’ no ‘thank you.’ I had been unloading my shopping (bog rolls and paracetamol) from my hellish shopping trip where NOBODY was keeping the 2-metre distancing rule. Now I see why Geraldine on the Amersham Facebook forum was so furious... In that moment I smiled my best smile and mouthed back: ‘of course!’ What I really saw flash before my eyes was me ripping open a packet of bog rolls, lighting them on fire and posting them through her letterbox. I don’t get it because her cockney husband is really nice and literally doesn’t stop talking about his time working in the film industry, whenever he has the chance to talk to someone other than his wife. Probably explains a lot. They have a Shih Tzuh crossed with a Maltese (google it – go on) and she puts a pink bow in its hair. This sounds like a joke – but it's not. I swear. Every damn day this dog barks and barks and pissing barks. Usually really early in the morning when I’m gently rising from my wonderful slumber. I swear she encourages it to bark. I imagine her sitting at her window whispering into the dog’s ear: ‘that’s right Delphine... yip yip yip.’ I love all dogs so much. But I sure hate that bitch. My patience (usually pretty thin anyway if I am honest... unless you’re a child) seems to be running out and I have become very passive aggressive. It pisses me off when crumbs aren’t wiped up or when the pots are left IN THE FUCKING SINK instead of next to it so you can actually get to wash the damn pots. It makes my eyes twitch when there are hairs ANYWHERE in the bathroom or when someone uses the bath/shower and doesn’t rinse it out. I may be asking a lot here but I don’t want to shower in someone else’s body hair. Does that make me odd? I think bathrooms are white on purpose just to piss me off. Any public toilet makes me heave because I just look around at all the specs of bodily fluid. I have discovered that some women indeed can indeed piss on the toilet seat. You thought it was just men... HOW SUSAN?! I have to say though, I am allowed to leave pots in the sink, piss on the seat and not hoover for 5 months, just nobody else. Every morning I wake up and tell myself I am going to do a juice detox. Then I just see the bread and I can’t be arsed. There has been much speculation about the starting point of this virus. Most people are saying it came from eating bat soup or summat. Fair enough. Really there’s no point in wasting time talking about where it actually came from because we will probably never find out anyway. I am pretty sure I have the virus as I had some interesting symptoms – mainly not being able to taste all the carbs I was inhaling. Still ate them anyway though. I am very worried about the older and more vulnerable people and it baffles me when I hear about people still going out and swanning about when they don’t need to. I mean... I’m having a nervous breakdown here and even I’m not going out! I know the choice of politicians wasn’t great to begin with and I feel bad for our Boris that he has Coronavirus but I really wish Jeremy Corbyn was Prime Minister. Of course BORIS got a fucking test! Prioritise that mop-headed lunatic before the frontline NHS staff saving lives... I do love that Boris is embracing the stay indoors, bed hair though. Well, I wouldn’t want to be him right now, having to advise a bunch of British people in a global pandemic. I just can’t help feeling like nothing he says comes across as genuine. Boris is doing an OK job I suppose... but a Tory government really is for the few, not the many. I’m not having a go at you if you voted Tory. You prob just didn’t know any better. Now I hope you’re thinking about where we would be if the Tories DID privatise the NHS. I’ve pretty much used up all my brain power ranting for now. I hope you’re all trying to stay sane in the best way possible considering the circumstances. Try not to tell people what to do (reminding myself of this also...) Sorry if I am not replying to texts or messages much. The irony is that even though I have time, I’m shutting the world out. Funny what those there them pandemics do. To conclude, I just went onto YouTube for different music... Up popped the below recommended videos... honestly. I don’t know what YouTube is trying to tell me, or what these photos say about what I watch but, Beyonce herself cannot hope to look as good as me now, so bore off. 'Stay safe' as everyone is saying now like the world has a 2020 slogan... (I'm gonna get it printed onto a t-shirt with a photo of an Andrex puppy.) I'm here if anyone needs to rant without being told to stay positive. Reach out to me - for free! Kimberly xx I did tell you that you shouldn’t have read it. To be continued...
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