Hi there.
Hello there.
Hi.

I keep starting a blog post and then remembering that I have pressing matters such as 'pick up skin cream from doctor' (don't worry, it's just for spots, not an embarrassing rash or anything like that) and 'remember to post 3 month late birthday card to father'.

I get distracted very easily - it's something I've found throughout my life, which in a way doesn't fit with the way I also get completely obsessed and involved with things. I obsess over particular films, tv shows, shoe designers, small children's woodland-creature-based toys, etc... watching or looking at them again and again - but I can't seem to concentrate on making the direction my life is going in a decent one. I get distracted by endless cups of coffee and searching for Manolo Blahnik on Google just one more time...

But still. 10 days to go and I'll be in New York.
I am pleased about this.

Last week I had an audition for Doctor Who. The part was amazing, the (highly confidential, so don't ask) script was amazing...the filming dates clashed with my New York trip, but I would have dropped it in a second for the chance to be in Doctor Who. I just heard that I didn't get it, which obviously is a bit disappointing, but at the same time it's now rather handy that I'm going on holiday, as that way it was always going to be a win / win situation: go to New York or be in Doctor Who.
So my new plan might be to book a constant stream of holidays, in order to continually place myself in this win / win situation with regards to auditions.
Obviously it doesn't work in practice as I currently have about 12p in my bank account.
And it also doesn't work philosophically - as if you're constantly on holiday, the holiday becomes your life and therefore isn't a holiday any more.
It was just a thought.

It was still very exciting even to be considered for Doctor Who, to be honest. I didn't watch it when I was little (I'm a bit young - it finished when I was about four), but I got into it more recently, mostly because of my ex-boyfriend, Tom Bell. Tom is a massive Doctor Who fan - he has an enormous video collection, he buys the magazine every month, he probably has a whole box of little action figures that he never dared tell me about for fear I would mock him.

Anyway, the point is that because of this I did get into it quite a lot. Not just the new series, but quite a lot of the old ones - mostly the Tom Baker ones - although I actually sat through 10 black and white, fun-filled hours of 'The War Games' (actually, that was pretty dreadful, but I was trying to impress Tom at the time), as well as a one about a rather dubious Ming the Merciless-style evil 'chinese' magician with an evil midget assistant who kept killing women in order to suck their life force, but he kept mutating...no, hang on, I think I've confused two different episodes there. There was a monster man who kept mutating because he kept stealing the life-force of his victims - and I think the 'chinese' magician with the midget assistant was a different one. I don't know why he killed people - oh, maybe he was working for the mutated monster-man...
Not sure.

I joined a gym at the weekend. After pissing off my housemates by attempting to dance in my room, I decided it was time I made more of a concerted effort to get fit.
Plus it was cheap.
I've also been drinking some of those 'Weight Gain 2000' milkshakes so I can be a beefcake like Cartman.

They're not really Weight Gain 2000 - they're some sort of weird protein supplement that apparently isn't that bad for you. And I'm not really drinking them (don't worry mum), I just tried them a couple of times because my boy bought one of those massive tubs of the stuff from Holland and Barrett. They're actually just pure protein - you mix it with milk... to be honest I think it's just a boy version of Slimfast, so you can go on a diet without looking like a pussy.

Right, I'd better go.

See you soon, lovelies

Ruth x

I don't really know what happened with that last post of mine. I somehow managed to accidentally hack into the Chortle admin and put my blog in completely the wrong place. Oh well. I've fixed it now.

I recorded a wee snippet for Channel 4 radio's The weekly show on Saturday, which was much fun, albeit slightly terrifying, as the show also featured Ricky Gervais. It was ridiculously exciting to be on the same show as someone who is, basically, internationally famous. I can't help but feel it might be the last time. It was a good bill actually - it also featured Tony Law and Greg Davies, amongst others. If you fancy a listen, it should be up on https://www.channel4radio.com very soon.

God damn, I love Johnny Cash. I have recently become obsessed with most things fifties (apart from things like casual racism and sexism - I'm less enamoured with those) - although of course a lot of Johnny Cash is actually sixties. Well, you get my point. I've taken to leaping around my room to Jerry Lee Lewis and Chuck Berry. These are the things a girl has to do to distract herself from unemployment and the terrifying prospect of old age and death.

It's such a beautiful day! I love this bitterly cold, blue sky winter weather. I'm praying this is what it will be like in New York (less than 3 weeks to go! Yeaaahhh)

I got very drunk on Saturday night. I somehow ended up in Camberwell, and made the acquaintance of the FATTEST cat I have EVER seen. It was literally wider than it was long - it was like a funny waddling barrel with a tiny cat's head. It was very sweet though.

I've been writing songs. I want to record them, but I don't have facilities or money. This is a problem that also seems to pervade through to most aspects of my life.

Might go and see that Borat thing tonight.

Buy away, my pretties

Ruthio x

I have been baking lately.

In a fit of madness I bought myself a diet book - this is something I have never done before as 1) I don't really believe in strictly following diets, I'm more of the 'stop putting cake in your mouth and go for a run, you fat twat' school of thought and 2) I never stick to them anyway - I tend to get enraged when they tell me I can't eat things I like. This one was a GI diet book, and when they said I wasn't allowed things like fruit juice or sweetcorn I got in a strop - what kind of diet doesn't let you eat sweetcorn? A crap one, that's what.

Anyway, the upside of this purchasing error was that there are some rather good recipes for sugar-free cakes in the back. Now I realise that 'sugar-free cake' sounds like both an oxymoron an a really bad idea - but they're actually pretty good. Despite having no homemaking skills whatsoever, I managed to make a batch of fruit buns that were actually quite tasty. I then got a bit ambitious and decided to have a go at scones (by 'have a go at' I mean 'try to make' not 'criticise' - that would just be silly) - which, contrary to my expectations, worked rather well.

Well, after this I got a bit cocky and decided that as well as using sweetener instead of sugar, I would try replacing the normal wheat flour with rye flour, for an all-out healthy scone extravaganza. Again, I was kind of expecting it to be a massive failure, but they were pretty damn good. Although they were more like rock buns than scones.

The success of the rye flour buns then led to one of those 'this is the funniest thing ever' moments that you only have when you're just about to fall asleep or are just waking up, where you usually don't bother to write the idea down and just forget about it, but when you do write it down, it turns out it definitely wasn't the funniest joke ever, you'd just temporarily lost your sanity in a moment of sleep deprivation.
Hence the title 'wry buns'.

Yes, it seemed like a good pun at the time. Then I remembered 'good pun' is also an oxymoron.

I like oxymorons.
I don't like morons though. They are a different thing and a lot more prevalent in general life.

I was temping earlier this week. It was possibly the worst job I have ever had to do (and I've cleaned up quite a lot of sick and been paid £2.45 an hour in my time) and involved the hideousness that is DATA ENTRY. Turns out many media types can't be arsed to put their business card details onto their computer, so they save them all up for A THOUSAND YEARS and then get an unsuspecting temping-monkey to break their hands doing it for them.

There were literally thousands of these things - I got repetitive strain injury after just one day, and THEN it turned out they complained to my agency that I was late back from lunch when I wasn't even late! Fortunately I got ill after 2 days and had to take the rest of the week off.

I know that when you're starting out in this industry temping is just something you have to do, and for the most part I don't mind it - reception work is usually quite nice, and I don't mind just typing a few letters and that sort of thing - but data entry is just the worst. And so utterly humiliating. I'm almost 24, I have a degree from Cambridge and I'm spending my days typing names and addresses for £8 an hour. In the meantime my housemate gets paid £25 an hour to do some nondescript job which, from what I can gather, involves showing people how to turn on a computer. It makes me despair. A lot of the time I feel like I have no real qualifications - I'm just getting by day-to-day in the hope that something better will come along.

"I hope that something better, I hope that something better, I hope that something better comes along" - Ralph the dog, the Muppet Movie

On the plus side, I'm doing the 4 Weekly show tomorrow at the Soho Theatre. Exciting!

Notice how I spent 3 paragraphs on the bad part of my week and just a line and a half on the good part. I do try not to focus on negative things, but I find they're funnier to talk about. Especially if you're English; no one wants to hear someone banging on about how great their life is.

Right, have to go. Time for tea.

Ruthie P and her band of merry men x