Which Witch?

Riding home on the bus, recently, I spotted a young woman getting on at one of the stops on the way out of Camberley. She looked to be in her early twenties, tall, with long dark hair, which contrasted with her pale skin. She wore a long black skirt, down to her ankles, black, high, wedge heeled, black boots, a black top and black jacket. The only thing on her not black was a purple bag, hanging off one shoulder. The bag was fabric, with a wiccan-like design woven into it. She reminded me of Winona Ryder in the film, "Beetlejuice," only taller. So, I wondered, is she a witch?
A couple of conventionally dressed girls on the bus kept snickering over the witchy girl. She ignored them and listened to music on her MP3. I found myself very attracted to the possible witch. Was she casting a spell over me? Ironically, recently, Steve Allen was speaking on his show on LBC radio, 97.3 FM, London, when he compared a woman to Morticia Addams, as if that was a negative. I quickly emailed Steve and let him know that I found Mortica very attractive, when I was a boy. Still do. Morticia always wore long black dresses, to the ankle, and had long dark hair, and pale skin. Before Steve read my email on the air, he read one from another guy, saying the same thing. So, I'm not the only man who's attracted by this look. I wonder how many other men are also bewitched by these charms?

Miss England is Angry

As everyone who's ever used Myspace knows, some people create fake profiles, pretending to be celebrities. I have no idea why anyone would want to be bothered doing that, but they do. Well, it seems that fakers have struck Miss England. The real Miss England, Georgia Horsley, is angry that there is a fake Myspace profile of her. She is outraged that the fake profile makes her seem stupid and "tarty." Her mood is described as "horny," she's listed as single, and has drinking as a hobby. Metro Newspaper quotes Horsley, a Miss World contestant, as complaining, "they have made me come across as a bit thick and a bit of a tart." Honey, you're a model and a beauty pageant contestant. Why on Earth would anyone think you were a thick tart?

London Evening Hat Trick

Last night, I was back in London. This time, I was an extra in the filming of a documentary. Confidentiality restrictions prohibit me from discussing the content of the show, but there were a lot of women involved. In particular, a certain female, professional dancer, was there, who had an amazing body. Dark haired, tall, with a sporty build, she happened to end up near me during one scene. When the group of dancers she was in kept doing their bit I couldn't take my eyes off her.
When I arrived early for the shoot, I was told to come back in about an hour. Finding a near by pub, I treated myself to a pint. Three nights out in London, in a row, and still working my day job, leads, me to feeling very busy. There are some positives to this, as I hardly notice being single. On the other hand, I wonder how this will affect me for the weekend, when I do my radio show. Will I be able to stay up all night, Saturday night, or will I be too tired? The director seemed a bit loony, but all in all, it was a fun shoot. Filming ran late, so, once again, I was late getting home.

This Takes the Biscuit

Today, I worked on my first commercial. It was a TV advertisement for a magazine. I am excited about it for two reasons. First, it pays better than the film work I have been doing. About three times as much, so today was the best single day's pay I have ever had. Second, I should be seen in this commercial, given that there are only six of us in the scene, and it will be shown repeatedly, thus maximizing my public exposure.
I arrived early, which is good for me. As I was sitting waiting, a gorgeous actress walked in. She had a beautiful, full head of auburn hair, flowing down over her shoulders. Wearing a business suit, she also had a sizzling hot figure. I later learned her name is Carla and she's a TV presenter on Sky Channel 634. She's also a former dancer, which would explain the figure. For my sins, I got to sit next to her for the entire shoot. What's also impressive about Carla is that she's over thirty, but still looks gorgeous. That's one of the nice things about working in TV and films, you get to work with some stunningly beautiful women, sometimes.
The premise of the ad is that Carla and I, plus four others, are sitting around a table in a meeting room. We are all dressed like lawyers. At the head of the table is an empty chair. It's empty because the boss is not there. Instead of being in the meeting, he's off reading this magazine we are promoting. He can't put it down. We're all bored waiting and doing various things to pass the time. One woman is texting on her mobile phone. Another woman is doing a crossword puzzle, while a male colleague sits next to her, trying to chat her up. Carla is doodling on a pad. Originally, I was supposed to be rolling a biscuit (cookie for American readers) back and forth, across the table with a male colleague, opposite. After a couple of rehearsals, the director decided that instead, my colleague would be sleeping with his head on his hands. That left me and the biscuit. He asked me to play with it in some way. I decided to spin it, on edge, like a top, on the table. The director liked that idea and decided to go with it. Thus began the great biscuit challenge.
The director decided he wanted to end our shot on my spinning biscuit. The problem was to work it so the camera finished tracking back just as I spun the biscuit, but have all the action fit within the time allotted for this part of the commercial. We were shooting for a 30 second commercial and our scene was supposed to take 7 seconds. Coordinating the camera tracking, my spinning, and the 7 seconds, became very difficult. We did take after take. I finally lost count when we hit 40 and that's not counting the numerous rehearsals we did. Little bits and pieces of the scene kept being adjusted and re-adjusted. We had a female cinematographer, which was a first for me. The whole crew were great and a joy to work with. They got us water and fed us breakfast. When we finally wrapped, around 1PM, I was being teased about being typecast, forever more, as a biscuit spinner. Given that my spinning biscuit became such a central part of the scene, I feel fairly confident I will be seen in this commercial. I am looking forward to when I finally see it on TV.
Between takes, I spoke with Carla as much as possible. When I asked her where she lived, I thought she said "northward." So I guessed Honslow. To this, she replied, "northward," or so I thought. I tried Harrow, even Luton. Still, every time she would say, "northward," in an ever more exasperated voice. Then I figured out that she wasn't saying "northward," but "Northwood." I found that funny. Carla looked so good, I thought she should be doing bigger time stuff than this. I pictured her as a leading lady in some film. When I asked her if she wanted to do bigger acting projects, in the future, she replied in the negative. "I'm a better TV presenter than I am an actress," she explained. She just does the acting on the side, on her days off from TV presenting. In any case, she made my day. In what other line of work can you spend a day playing with biscuits and chatting to a gorgeous lady, and get paid for it?

Blocked Out

This afternoon, when I boarded the bus home, from Camberley, there was a gaggle of beautiful young women on it, again. However this time, they had occupied my usual seat, in the emergency exit row. I needed to find a different place to sit. I settled for one of the seats near the front, with lots of legroom. These are the ones that have signs above them requesting that one give up the seat for a pregnant, or elderly person. I'm not old enough to be elderly and I can't get pregnant, but I am too tall to fit in most of the rows on the bus. My knees get jammed against the seat in front. These buses must have been designed for elves. Why don't they add, "and for the big tired guy, on his way home from work, who can't fit into any of the other seats" to the signs? Don't I deserve a seat, too? Beauty is wasted on the young.

Little Scotland Annie

Yesterday was Annie's birthday. Who's Annie? She's this woman who works where I work. She mans one of the two coffee bars that our restaurant provides, out in the office complex. I have no idea how old Annie is, although, judging by the wrinkles, I would guess she's over 60. She is so pretty, I always tell her how pretty she looks. She says it brightens her day. She has short, blond hair and sparkling eyes, sitting behind delicate, rimless eyeglasses. She's so thin, I might even say too thin. While she may not have voluptuous curves, her delightful, pixie face is so lovely, I don't usually notice her boyish frame.
Not only does Annie look lovely, she's got such an innocent, gentle way about her. I have never seen her angry, or even heard her utter a cross word. She also has a gentle, Scottish accent, probably because she's from Scotland. It's not one of these harsh Scottish accents that some people have, but caresses the ear, like a gentle sea breeze on a summer day. Why is it that people from Scotland talk so funny? You'd think they'd notice that they speak differently from the rest of the people in Britain. It can be endearing on certain people, like Scotty, from "Star Trek," or on Annie herself. On others, not so, particularly on the men. I notice that I keep coming across older Scottish women who look very beautiful. What is it about Scottish women that they can look so good in their later years, while many other British women look like they are coming apart at the seams? Annie's husband is fortunate to have a wife who's still such a delight.