Yesterday’s post was titled ‘Friday’ - it was actually Thursday. That’s what my life is like now. I came into work early and the main door had been left open all night. I’m really pissed off about that. Last time it happened a prostitute spent the night servicing customers on the stairs (we have CCTV). Insurance won’t pay out if the door has been left open.
This morning a skip appeared outside my house. I really hope it is next door finally gearing up to selling their house, although it might be the new guy opposite. At this point there is absolutely no chance of me having the work done on my house - It’s just not possible.
I have a meeting with a client at 11 - one of the few people left who actually pays their bills.
One if the reasons I’m annoyed about the front door is that we now have a local drug dealer - who doesn’t have a doorbell so someone has to shout up to their window if they want ‘service’ - it’s right outside the studio. He has a lot of customers.
Later today I have to talk to my ‘in-between’ person at the job which appears to have gone horribly wrong. I’ve pretty much completed everything but the organisation is fairly chaotic and not well run and someone has decided they don’t need the work I’ve already done. In other news, a client has told me they need to hold a project for the duration of their children’s school holidays… which is nice for them, but not great for me. I think I’m probably too nice to people, a big part of being freelance is getting on with clients and building trust - but it’s a two way relationship, I seem to have forgotten that one. I’m getting walked all over.
Hazel O’Connor liked one of my tweets, which was actually a joke about her. This was almost as exciting as that time Toyah sent me a get well soon card after I came out of hospital.
A friend sent me a copy of ‘Hollywood Babylon’ that they had intended to give to charity. It was the same edition I bought from a shop called 69A in Liverpool when I was about 16. I loved it at the time, it was an ugly, lurid, sensational bit of trash that was from a totally different world that I inhabited. It was also incredibly badly written - not that it mattered. I suppose it’s what the internet has become now. I am looking forward to reading it over the weekend. (when I say ‘reading’ - I actually mean looking at the pictures and reading the captions). I find it hard to believe that Kenneth Anger is still alive.
Talking age - an aunt is in hospital at the moment. My family all seem to have lived to a great age in relative good health - all tall and slim, and active - but they seem to be entering their 80’s (and 90’s) now and time is catching up on them. Aside from the obvious - I have never actually been ‘ill’ as such - neither have my brother or sister - nothing more than colds and flu - or just working too hard. Probably ideal as none of us will ever be able to retire.
Whilst I’m on the subject of film, I have a close friend in that industry who knows a lot of very famous people and ‘cultural figures’ from the last 30 years (Including Toyah - which is how I ended up getting the get-well-soon card). It’s very strange and unnerving when they are on Facebook and interacting with people that I used to idolise or who are really quite well known - although at the same time - they appear generally quite dull in real life and most of their jokes are rubbish, and they all share click-bait, like real people. Without going into too much detail - I was on the sidelines of an exchange last week with someone who I expect you would all know and is a bit of a current pop culture hero - with a very high and positive profile - but who is actually quite cold, hypocritical and callous. It was chilling. Obviously - this anecdote is not particularly well written because I don’t want to say who they are - but it’s quite disappointing when you realise that everyone eventually lets you down, one way or the other.
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