treefroggirl

posted by Thomas on Dec 21

Sean, an old work mate of Stuart’s had an long lay over in London today so we thought we would take him for a walk along the South Bank so he could see a bit of London.

Sean has lived in Canada for over 20 years but before that his family was from Iran and he has dual nationality.

We took the tube to Vauxhall and walked toward the bridge. Stuart pointed at a modern, would be innocuous if not for the 50 million security cameras all over it building.

“That’s MI5.”

“Really?” Sean said.

“Yep.” Stuart said.

Sean pointed his SLR camera at MI5. “Can I take a picture of it?”

“Sure.” Stuart said.

“You sure?” Sean said.

“Yep.” Stuart said.

Sean took a picture and we continued on our way toward the Thames path.

A police car with lights on passed us, stopped and backed up several feet. It parked, lights still blinking.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if they were stopping us for taking a picture?” Sean said.

“Yeah, it would be.” I said.

Two policemen exited the car and walked briskly toward us. Cop the First was tall and blonde and had a non-descript English accent. Cop the Second was short and brunette and sounded like an extra on East Enders.

Each had handguns holstered to the top of their thigh.

“Do you know what that building is?” Cop the First asked.

We looked at each other like it was a trick question.

“MI5.” Stuart said.

“Why’ya tayken’ a-picture ov it’thn?” Cop the Second asked.

We looked at each other again like it was a trick question.

“Because it’s MI5.” Stuart said.

Cop the First and the Second reviewed the pictures on Sean’s camera and were satisfied that we were not intending to blow it up in the future even though Sean was carrying a rucksack and had a dark complexion.

“Are we not allowed to take a picture of it?” I asked.

“Oh, you’re allowed,” Cop the First said, “but we don’t encourage it.”

While we were allowed to take a picture of MI5 and we weren’t doing anything wrong, they did fill out a little citation detailing our tête-à-tête (for our records) although they kept saying over and over that this was as far as this would go and that our information would not be entered anywhere and we had nothing to worry about.

Nicole rolls her eyes inside her head, but smiles and nods at the Policeman.

When asked for his address, Sean gave them his Canadian details. He said later he considered giving his Iranian passport to see what they would do.

I must admit, both officers were very polite and friendly. If you are going to get randomly stopped for taking photos of buildings, they were the men for the job.

So if you get out the tube at Vauxhall and walk toward the river, on the right is an unmarked building.

You are allowed to take a photograph of it.

It is however, not encouraged.

posted by Thomas on Nov 5

Yesterday was my third year arriving in the UK. I got a nice present.

posted by Thomas on Oct 23

A couple of weeks ago I posted The Great Schlep to my Facebook and Bunin commented about it and told me that he is friendly with Sarah Silverman. Bunin is in a sitcom and is a very talented actor and improv performer living in LA for a little over ten years now, so his being mates with S.S. didn’t surprise me.

Told him that she was performing in London soon and that I might go. He said that if I saw her after the show I should say hi and that he and I are friends.

This made me giggle.

The odds of me seeing Ms. Silverman after her performance and saying, “Um. Hi? Sarah? Hi. I’m friends with Bunin. Um. Hi. Yeah. And he’s my friend and you’re his friend so I thought… um. We could be friends. . . Wanna braid each others hair?” were rather slim indeed as she was performing in the 3,000+ seat Hammersmith Apollo. Don’t think he realized that she wasn’t going to be in a little comedy club.

Don’t think Sarah realized either.

It wasn’t her fault they kept us waiting in the lobby for an hour plus. It was like being on the tube only with a bar. It wasn’t her fault that her supporting act Steve Agee was ill and did not perform. They had a video feed where he said something I couldn’t understand for two minutes which was annoying considering their trying to set that up is what kept us schvitzing in the lobby for ages.

You could feel the audience could maybe turn on her. It was in the air. When she came out she quickly got the audience on her side. No small feat. I was laughing so hard I was crying. At one point Sarah said, “This is going really well! I can’t believe I was nervous about this all week.”

And it was. It was going really well.

Then the show ended after she had been on stage for about 45 minutes. We assumed it was joke… or a way to get an encore. We clapped. We stayed sitting. We slowly stopped clapping. The lights came up. But not all the way. Were they needing us to clap more to get her to come out? We clapped more. We slowly stopped. She wasn’t coming out. This couldn’t be the end. Really? We stayed sitting.

Sarah bounced out wearing her slippers, “Go home! I don’t have anything prepared! I’m not Chris Rock. We had a good show.”

She tried to riff a bit with the audience. Some of it worked. Some didn’t. Someone suggested she sing a song. She shook her head, “I shot my load.”

Up in the balcony where I was, a guy suggested Give the Jew Girl Toys, but she didn’t remember the words so he prompted her all the way through it which was kinda funny. Then a woman up in the balcony shouted out that she was over hyped and didn’t deserve the ticket price. We all booed the woman that was heckling.

She tried to take some Q&A but it was really uncomfortable and you could feel she wasn’t in control. “I need to leave on a laugh.” She said. We all wanted to give her a big laugh. Each second felt like forever for me so it must have felt like years for her. Finally she got enough of a response and she exited stage left.

Walking out, I heard someone say, “That was the most surreal end of a show I’ve seen in my life.” On the tube I heard someone else say, “No more of these American comedians.”

A lot of the reviews say she bombed. That isn’t accurate. She was also not booed off the stage. I only heard two hecklers.
She had a fantastic show. Sure it was old material, but it was great and from all the people laughing for those 45 minutes, the audience thought the same.

The problem is there is no way in hell when people have paid nearly 50 quid that you only give them 45 minutes of entertainment. If there had been an opening act and if we hadn’t been corralled in the lobby for Donkey’s Years, I suspect it would have been a different ending.

I do think it is disappointing that someone that has been doing stand-up as long as she has, didn’t have something in her back pocket. It is really too bad.

It was a fantastic show that curdled at the end. In some ways, that is worse than bombing.

posted by Thomas on Aug 29

Click the picture to see the invite.

Calling everyone in London that reads this! My Department is doing a Community project with a Children’s Centre in Kent that is part of Barnardo’s.

We’re in the fundraising part at the moment. . . If you would like to come to a fab party Saturday September 6th at Adam’s Street, a fantastic London Private Members Only Club, please go to our Just Giving site and donate £10.00. Then leave a comment on this post and I will make sure the ticket is e-mailed to you. (Please note that drinks are not included.)

Tickets are limited, so move fast!

If you aren’t able to come to the party, if you can donate even a small amount, that would be amazing. Microsoft doubles whatever we raise so even £5.00 can go a long way!

posted by Thomas on Aug 2

Yesterday was a re-reading day. I finished off Moon For The Misbegotten, which I must admit I had never read. O’Neill is interesting. At first he pisses me off, his novelistic character descriptions and stage directions. The way his people talk to each other, then he sucks me in and breaks my heart. I’ve actually never seen his plays performed which is a sin.

Over lunch I read re-read Betrayal which is my favourite Pinter play. I love it actually and it is the only Pinter play I can say that about. I realise that this is also a sin.

Around 5 or 6 PM I decided to re-read the last Harry Potter. I haven’t looked at it for a year and I was in the mood. Finished it around 3 AM. I do that sometimes. Read things straight through. I’ve never been good about holding off the pleasure of reading, making it last. I rush through to the end.

Some work people were going out last night in Soho, but I made the choice to not go. I want to be on the wagon for a few months. My loophole is that I can drink when I am out of the country visiting my mom in a couple of weeks and my next biz trip in September.

Stuart was going to the pub and wanted me to go with him, but in addition to my not drinking in the UK thing I have a ‘I do not want to be around him if at all possible when he is drinking’ thing.

It’s for the best.

He called me at 11:30 and he was lucid. He didn’t have that click in his voice when I know he’s been on the lash. I was impressed. He said he would be home in twenty minutes.

He left his phone at home so when I closed HP at 3 AM and he still wasn’t home, I couldn’t call him.

I started to turn out the lights and get ready for bed when the phone rang.

I heard Richard saying something.

Then Matt said, “Rapp! Rapp!”

And Stuart sang, “Three times a lady.”

I stared at the phone. “Hello?”

They hung up.

I waited a few moments debating if I should call Richard’s number or not to say something that ended in an exclamation point.

I called and Stuart answered.

“Did you like that?”

“What was it?”

“She didn’t get it! You didn’t get it. And we PRACTISED. Come on—“

I heard Richard saying something.

Then Matt said, “Rapp! Rapp!”

And Stuart sang, “Three times a lady.”

Pause.

“Did you get it?”

“Your singing?”

“Once, twice, three times a lady. “

“Why did you hang up?

“We thought you would be sleeping—“

“You thought I would be sleeping?”

“And you would pick up the phone and hear once, twice, three times a lady and then we’d hang up and that would make you happy.”

“I was awake.”

“You were awake?”

“You should be happy I was awake.”

“You don’t get it. She doesn’t get it.”

I tried to explain that I did get it, but that I didn’t think the execution was perhaps the best and I didn’t understand why they thought calling and hanging up on me at three in the morning was going to make me HAPPY but he ignored my speaking and they ran through the song again.

I decided to cut bait. “Ok, baby. Sounds like you’re having fun. I’ll let you go.”

”I was sad you weren’t here Thomas Cole. People kept asking and I had to make excuses.

”I’m sorry baby.”

“Know what we’re doing right now?”

“Something that will likely result in your being killed and or arrested?”

“We’re standing in front of a church yelling at people through a traffic cone.”

I could hear Matt and Richard background.

“That sounds great baby. Have fun.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

Pause.

“Okay.”

posted by Thomas on Jun 1

Stuart and I went to the Camden Green Fair this afternoon and had a lovely time walking around.

There was a huge herb stall and I circled it three times controlling myself from buying every single variety of basil on the planet as I already have two on my kitchen sill. (There was African blue basil that was especially gorgeous). I really feel the pain of not having a garden when I look at herbs. I didn’t have any cash on me but Stuart offered to buy me a plant so I settled on rosemary since that is one of my most common purchases.

Stuart bought himself a succulent at anther stall and garlic. The garlic surprised me, with it being an outdoors plant but also Stuart is more interested in aesthetics with plants than with using them. For example, he won’t let me near his aloe.

We wandered over to the next stall where they were giving away pear tree saplings. Stuart took two.

“Honey, we don’t have a garden.”

“I’m going to put it in my office.”

“But it’s a pear TREE. It should be outside.”

“I’ll get a container. All it needs is sun and water.”

“Okay honey.” I’ve learned that there is no reasoning with Stuart when he gets an idea about something. He’s like a raccoon stuck in a trap with its paw wrapped tightly around something shiny. If it let go, it would be free.

“Now all you need is a partridge,” I smirked.

“Waa?”

“To go with your pear tree.”

When we got home we put the rosemary and the garlic on the sill.

“And don’t you go near my garlic!” Stuart turned the plant protectively.

“You do realise that at some point we’ll need to dig up the garlic.”

“What are you talking about?”

I held one of my garlic bulbs against the base of the plant. “This is in the dirt and at some point you’ll need to pull it up.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Garlic is a bulb. It grows in the dirt. Like onions.”

“You mean. . .” Stuart turned and looked at the garlic plant. “The garlic doesn’t grow up top?”

“No honey.”

“I thought it would be a little garlic tree with it growing off of. . . the. . .umm. . . leaves.”

“No honey. I’m sorry.”

“I got stitched up.”

posted by Thomas on Apr 16

Mel ran the London marathon Sunday (read a funny entry about the effects of it on his body here) and it has got me thinking. . .

I have wanted to walk one since 1999, (ain’t no way I’m running with my breasts. I’d poke my eye out.) but I have always made excuses about finding the time to train.

Mel was sweet and said that if he could do it, anyone can– which I don’t believe. It takes months of commitment and not everyone has that in them.

Anyway, I really want to do it. Nearly ten years of saying I wanna and I need to make it a I am.

So I am trying to get a place on my own because the charity I would want to run for was not awarded any running slots.

Annoying.

Might have to go for the one in LA.

posted by Thomas on Mar 27

Three years ago I arrived in London.

Two years ago I started my new job at my current employer that those of you that can read between my not very obscure lines know where it is.

One year ago I was getting pissed in the pub.

What am I doing this year? I’m staying away from the pub for one. I’ve had a few too many hours/days spent in one recently.

I have an idea for a play actually. I think tonight I’m going to bugger off and hide myself away and try to remember who I used to be.

posted by Thomas on Dec 6

people that don’t know how to walk down a crowded pavement holding an umbrella without nearly poking the eyes out of everyone around them should be shot.

People that carry big fuck off umbrellas that a Catholic family of twelve can fit under should have their arms and legs ripped off and then be beaten to death with them.