Double Babs

What a weekend!

Me and my other half have been to the top-glam locations of Newcastle-under-Lyme and Sheffield, where we saw Janice Connolly in two different guises.

First up on Saturday was the New Victoria Theatre in Newcastle-u-L, where Janice was playing Helen (the mam) in 'A Taste of Honey'. Jo (the daughter) was played by 'Shameless' star Joanna Higson. I was very impressed by her - she played the part with enough light and shade to make me believe in the character, making me forget that slutty nurse she plays. Janice went down a storm with the audience, having just the right amount of blowsiness for a mother described as a 'semi-whore'. If you've never seen the film, starring Rita Tushingham and Dora Bryan, I recommend you go out and rent it or buy it here.

Samantha Siddall, who played Mandy Maguire in 'Shameless', was in the audience. I was tempted to go up to her and say how sorry I was she had died, but she had a right face on and didn't look like she wanted anyone to talk to her. She didn't really look any different in real life, she was dressed slightly more upmarket than Mandy, but still quite chavvy.

Afterwards, having a drink and a pie with Janice and her family, Noreen Kershaw came up to congratulate her on her performance. She played WPC Phyllis Dobbs in Life On Mars but now concentrates on directing. I should have had an I-Spy Book of Actresses with me. Janice also pointed out the woman who she based Barbara Nice on, which was... nice. She also asked if we wanted to go to a variety show at the Lyceum in Sheffield on the Sunday night. We were both quite keen, so she got us tickets.

The last (and until Sunday, only) time I visited the Lyceum it was being used as a disco. It has since been refurbished as the theatre it was, and is now quite stunning. The acts were outstanding - Ursula Martinez did her own brand of conjuring, making a red handkerchief disappear then pulling it out of her clothes. The twist was that, having produced the handkerchief, she then removed an item of clothing. By the end, she was completely naked on stage and produced the handkerchief from down below. I saw her in 'Office Party' at the Edinburgh Fringe last year and she took everything off there as well. More nakedness came from Spymonkey, an hilarious dance troupe (and this is coming from someone who's not keen on dance). They transformed a piece about Joan of Arc into a farcical poledance, during which two of the male performers lost their underwear. Marawa was a charming lady from Australia - what she can't do with hula hoops can't be done! At one point she had a load of them swinging around her and didn't drop a single one. Janice was doing Barbara Nice and did a bit from her show 'Hiya and Higher'. To make it even better, I won a poster, signed by all the acts, in the raffle.

There were two aftershow parties that we were invited to, but we just went to the first one, in the theatre, and had a bit of champagne and canapés. I had been asked by staff not to take photos during the performance and told this to a lady I'd met there. It turned out she was co-producer of the show and had commissioned an official photographer for the evening. She very kindly said she'd send me the Barbara Nice pictures for the website (if you don't know by now - www.mrsbarbaranice.co.uk). How much better does an evening get!

The Misery of Gout

Gout is such an unglamorous illness! There's the pain, not being able to wear heels and the distasteful knowledge that you have crystals of uric acid making themselves at home in your toe joint. I mean, URIC ACID!!! You might as well say you've got pee running through your veins.

So, I went to bed on Thursday night with a slight twinge in my right foot, the sort of feeling you get when you've done too much walking and your feet are really tired. I woke up at 3am in agony - my foot was so sensitive, the duvet touching it brought on a sharp, burning pain, pain so intense I couldn't get back to sleep. I lay awake until 6am, then got up, made a cup of tea and had a couple of Nurofen (a stupid time to do that really, as my alarm was due to go off at 6.40am). When it was time to get up, I didn't, I knew there was no way I'd be able to face the journey to Leeds with a furnace burning in my foot. Instead I called in sick and tried to get an appointment with the doctor. As usual, getting an audience with the Pope would have been easier (a quick kiss of his ring, some tea and a Garibaldi) and I got to see the nurse instead. She poked, prodded and pulled, then announced it was probably gout, printed off a prescription and some details to take to the hospital, telling them to test my blood and what to test it for.

I had to miss the launch party for the Scaramanga Six's new album Songs of Prey. At one point in the evening I thought it would do me good to get out of the house for a while, but I pulled on a boot and thought I might pass out from the acute pain, so that was my night out up the Swanee.

So far this year I've had to start wearing glasses (albeit stunningly stylish ones) and have contracted gout. Is this the start of the slippery slope? All in all I feel quite old and more than a little depressed.

London Town

Just had a weekend in London. Due to work commitments it was all too short - Friday night to Sunday morning. I went to see Sparks at the Kentish Town Forum on Friday night, where they played their new album, 'Exotic Creatures of the Deep' and an old album, 'Kimono My House'. I could have gone to see them doing 'No. 1 in Heaven' on Saturday, but I saw them do that one last year and didn't want to try and recreate such a magical evening, with me dressed as an angel and loads of people chilling out in the Edward VII pub afterwards. On reflection I think I did the right thing - the pub people were supposed to be meeting up at afterwards had stopped serving and lot of people didn't go the one along the road, so that was a bit of an anti-climax.

I had promised myself I wouldn't go to Camden/Chalk Farm markets this time, but was staying so close to them I ended up there after all. I'm glad I did, I got some great clothes, including a hyper-groovy blue and orange psychedelic print shirt that I wore to the gig (and got lots of compliments about). A couple of tattoo-style t-shirts persuaded me to part with some more cash and my hat fetish was also indulged.

After all these years, I finally got an A to Z of London and this changed the feel of the weekend. Instead of getting the tube everywhere, I walked a lot more and saw places I'd usually miss. I also visited Portobello Market for the first time and spent several hours looking at overpriced clothes and antiques. This is a strategy I will definitely use again!

Looking Out of a Train Window

I've been away to Edinburgh for the weekend. As ever, it was a great feeling to see the now-familiar streets and buildings. Not everything was the same though - Princes Street is currently closed off while they do work on the new tram lines - this is supposed to be finished by 2011. It should have been started on Saturday morning but it has all gone pear-shaped. The firm doing the work has now demanded an extra £8,000,000 for 'additional costs'. So far, no work has gone ahead.

I was also tempted to go and see 'The Vagina Monologues' on Saturday night. It featured Karen Dunbar (Scottish comedienne who was the main attraction for me - I was intrigued to see what she'd be like in a dramatic role. Interestingly, the theatre it was playing at is a couple of doors away from CC Bloom's where she used to compere the karaoke), Kaye Ward (apparently she's on 'Loose Women'), Gail Porter (the one who's hair fell out and isn't Jade 'I'm going to shield my kids from the news of my cancer by having it plastered over the front pages of every newspaper and magazine' Goody/Tweed) and Michelle McManus (won X Factor and spent the money on pies).

Anyway, I got to the theatre and saw, in huge letters: 'The Ultimate Girls' Night Out!'. I went out drinking instead.

So, I was on the train back this afternoon, looking at the scenery whizzing past (inbetween reading Simon Doonan's 'Beautiful People', which had me laughing out loud). I noticed that, with the odd exception, any particularly picturesque piece of countryside with buildings on, had rather nice buildings, buildings with character. Then we got closer to England. I noticed then a lot of what must have formerly been fairly lush, luxurious landscape had been blighted with identikit boxes with little charm.It's no wonder a lot of Scots don't want to be identified as British.