Oh, Marlene..

Marlene Dietrich said, 'I do not think we have a right to happiness. If happiness happens, say thanks'. As much as I love you, I totally disagree, sorry Marlene! 

We all deserve happiness, don't we? We weren't just put on this earth to work ourselves to death, ensuring large profits for fat cats who pay lip service when it comes to caring about our welfare!

As I write this I hear Maggie Thatcher's voice booming out with her ''children who need to be taught traditional moral values are being taught they have an inalienable right to be gay''. You were right in one thing, Thatcher, children were being ''cheated of a sound start in life- yes cheated''. You made sure of that with your homophobic Section 28. You made sure that I was a confused teenager and that this confusion went into my 20s...even late 20s... You made sure that I was so confused at not being interested in boys when the other kids would talk about who they had kissed and who they fancied. You made me hide when the first lesbian kiss was shown on TV when I was 15... Hide because I liked it and I felt shy about liking it and I didn't want my parents or friends to know, because what was this life? Was it even an ''option''? I didn't know. I couldn't comprehend it. I knew I was different to most, which is probably why I was bullied throughout school. No one talked about the prospect of gay relationships. Sex education focussed on not getting pregnant and not catching aids (the less said about the awful aids advert with the big rock, the better!) and STIs. It didn't tell us that we had the right to find true love and that love is love no matter what. 

The light didn't ping for me until I was 28, and by that time I had gone down society's expected norm and got married to a man...even though I knew, when I was walking down the aisle (and in the run up), that it wasn't right. But why wasn't it right? I continued to cause arguments just so that he would sleep in another bed to me. I didn't want to be touched by him in any way. I didn't know why. I just knew that I didn't want sex with him or even affection.  Just 6 months to a year later, I developed a crush, and although nothing happened, I am ever so grateful to her, and it was a genuine lightbulb moment. Ah-ha! That is what it is! Ok, so what to do now? I had no clue. Yes, we had the internet but it isn't like it is now (I mean Section 28 was only repealed in 2003..and we still saw headlines of the likes of ''gay judge..'' like his sexuality had anything to do with his job!). I found a site called, 'Gaydar Girls', just to chat to other women and I ordered three dvds- Sugar Rush (a whole series set in Brighton about a lesbian), Imagine Me and You, and Kissing Jessica Stein. I quickly had two dates with women lined up. I knew that I preferred older but one of them was younger and convinced me to meet her. By this time I was almost 30 and she turned out to have lied about her age and was only 24. We had a nice evening out but I told her that it wouldn't work. The day after, I had a date with a human rights lawyer; I will call her Diane for the purposes of this blog, who was 11 years older. The first date was in The Shakespeare's Head in Soho, not far from where I was working. It seemed to go very well. We agreed on a second date- a sushi restaurant in Hampstead, apparently not far from where Diane lived. This date was the total opposite of the first. She cried on my shoulder about a woman she was in love with but who was married to a man and the woman loved her but she wasn't sure what the future held etc. Then she spoke about money a lot. And for someone who was a human rights lawyer it jarred! Especially when she pointed out her little blue car later and then said, ''I have another one at home. It's a (can't remember, but a posh one)... but I don't drive it often as people stare.'' I knew then that she wasn't for me, and just add that I clearly wasn't for her as not long after the woman she was crying over, let’s call her Kate, left her husband and moved in with Diane and her daughter. 

But how did I fit into this gay and lesbian world..? When I went to a gay bar or two with one of my good (but straight) friends, I just didn't feel like I fitted. It smelled and I didn't look anything like the women in there... I joined another couple of dating sites and met a woman who became my first girlfriend. Realising you are gay later in life, for me, was like being a teenager again and I guess that I got caught up in it all that I ignored all of the red flags and ended up in a relationship with a bully- a narcissist who also became physically violent, regularly, from about 12 months in. The verbal stuff started about 6 months in. It took me till 2012 to get out of that house and that relationship. London is an expensive place and I just didn't have enough money for a month's rent in advance plus a deposit...then I got a particular job, which I say saved my life, as her violence had continued to get worse, as my first pay packet enabled me to move and rent a room in a woman's flat- even if it did take all of my pay!

I escaped that relationship largely unscathed- or so I thought, anyway. Until about a year later, having moved back up north six months after leaving her- due to my landlady turning the flat into a Chinese warehouse (that's another story!), when I had, what I later realised, was a panic attack in the middle of Home Sense in The Arndale. 

I had a lot of interest from women but I preferred to be alone for a while. I have never been one of those who have to be with someone as lovely as it is when you are with someone who truly cares. Later, I began a relationship with a friend (we had shared a kiss a few years earlier but neither of us thought the other was interested- again women and not wanting to speak up. That is another story) and by this time it was a long distance relationship due to her still being in London and then moving back to Ireland, due to her long term illness. It didn't last long as due to her debilitating illness and disability, she didn't feel she could commit to a relationship now that she couldn't really travel any more. It's all good though, after a brief fall out because she chose to email me instead of speaking to me when I had only just come back from spending a week with her, we are friends these days, once again. After this, I chose to have another break from women and dating. Then I ''saw'' someone for a few months but it was never proper, before beginning on the dating apps and meeting a myriad of strange (not in a good way) women, including one who was a scary stalker.. The whole of that year was like a comedy show. Some of the things that I could write here (another time!) would make you wonder if it was fiction! Trust me, it's all true and for an actor and a creative, it's excellent material! Dating has never been easy, of course it hasn't. I'm sure that many would agree. And now I find myself in another difficult situation, and for once in my life I am following my heart and allowing it to guide me on my next journey to happiness and contentment. I am putting myself first. So yeah, Marlene, I am afraid that I do disagree. We all have a right to experience happiness, for as long as it lasts, which we all hope will be forever. 

So there you have it. Not as light-hearted as usual, but I hope just as intriguing! 

Love a Real Northern Hermia x

Be a Tree!

I am dead on my feet from carrying my weight (yeah, I know I am only small..) and I am swaying..I am swaying.. (yeah thanks, Rod). If only drama schools taught you to tap into stress, uncertainty, instability and the potential onset of early peri menopause, they would have got the perfect looking tree from me!

And the most important thing? I would have FELT it too! Swaying. Very unsteadily in the breeze. My arms too heavy for my small frame, my head flopping like the heaviest branch high up there (oh be quiet, I know I am 5 foot 2.. but stay with me ha ha) and my legs giving way. This is what a tree must feel like when it weathers a storm! So any new actors out there, if you are asked to be a tree...speak to those going through stress, instability and peri menopause and you will crack that tree! Ok, not crack it, because unlike Ben Ashton, most of us value trees and actually like trees. You know what I mean! They absorb carbon dioxide during photosynthesis. They are useful flood defences and help to prevent a river bursting its banks. Our moths, birds, butterlfies, bats etc feed off trees and hedges which helps them to breed anbd thrive..and they boost our mental and physical wellbeing in many ways. They keep us rich in oxygen, they filter pollutants, shade us in the heat and improve our immunity. AND, they help us regulate our hormones (the less said about those the better), strenghten our curculatory and nervous systems when we breathe them in. They offer us relief from anxiety and depression...and much more. You aren't here for science lesson (see Mr Smith and Mr Bond, I did pay attention..just not to physics because that is basically maths!) so we'll stop there. Although I will say that this Northern Hermia loves to be in the woods, looking up at the trees. It's my favourite place to be after the water. The smell of the earth and crunchy leaves as you walk among them is just everything. 

You'll remmeber me 'bobbin along, bobbin along...' well, I have news, I am now sailing. I am sailing, home again, cross the sea...to be free! It's a long journey and it won't happen over night but I should be among calmer waters within the next few weeks. Just in time for me to don my tights as Dick..yep, it's almost that time again!

But until now, take care readers. 

Love, A Real Nothern Hermia x

Do the Limbo Dance!

‘Limbo cool, limbo fine

Ev’rybody gets a chance

Clap your hands it’s party time

Do the limbo dance’.

Yeah, thanks, David!

Have you ever had to hold yourself in a fixed position? An awkward position for too long and found yourself stuck? I’m not counting when we were all bendy kids, but as an adult I mean? It hurts, doesn’t it?! You can’t just jump upright. You can’t focus, you have a permanent headache, you can’t eat or drink. And you feel ‘’ready for the knackers yard’’, as our Elsie used to say! And yet when those fingers snap, we have to be ready to do a full on tap dance down the street with our heads in tact firing on all cylinders. 

Growing up, I was told to ''Be realistic''. In fact I remember the career woman who came into high school: ''What do you want to do for a career?'' Me, ''I want to act''. Her, ''You're from Preston, be realistic. What do you really want to do?'' Me, ''I just told you. I want to act''! She wasn't alone. In my experience it was usually people who, perhaps, came from a more affluent background didn't (and still don't in my experience) want us (the majority) to aspire to our goals. They (not the teachers, but those in power) want us to be their yes people. They don't want us to be able to question their motives or their answers.

But when you ''slap'' them in the face with their realistic realism, they certainly do not know what has hit them! We do. Its strength and determination. We know how to survive when the going gets tough...  ''When the going gets tough, the tough get ready''...The tough, does indeed, get going!

For any of the nay sayers who tell you that you can't follow your dreams, turn Billy up. Sing it loud and sing it proud: ''I'm gonna put this dream in motion, never let nothing stand in my way..!'' 

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia x

                                            image by: Tntisland dot com

Here Have a Carrot!

But don't get too excited..you're back to waiting again! 

I know that you have jumped through hoop after hoop for months, but you need to wait. Wait for their right arm to connect to their left arm..you could be waiting a while. There isn't a time limit. Sorry about that, but I am smiling apologetically, does that help? 

No.

'I'm spinning around, move out of my way..' I feel like Worzel Gummidge. Though I am not sure if my head can spin anymore. I'm trying to concentrate on one thing but there is always someone tapping on the other side of my head, trying to get in. Tapping, tapping away..I keep saying ''don't knock. I don't live here..well not permanently, anyway''. But the tapping will not let up. ''When will you have a home''? I DO NOT KNOW! That's it. That's done it. Phew! It's calm again.. Until five minutes later anyway..this time it's louder! Tap tap tap...tAP! Ok, here goes..

Check email regarding our home application...no reply.

Email extra information..no reply

wife emails extra information..no reply..

Someone I hardly know calls to let off steam, without asking how I am. I kind of imagine that their stress is further away from my ears than it is, and I ask how they are besides this. They promise to call in a couple of hours for a catchup.. four hours later, no catch up, but I guess they feel they've lightened their load?

Tap, tap tap tAPPPPP! 

Checks. Blank email. Wait, what does it say? Ah yes, ''welcome to Limbo Land''. Welcome?? I've been staying here for over three months. Surely you know that? But apparently it's temporary?...

Cup o'tea and slice of cake, Aunt Sally?

Love a Real Northern Hermia x

Getty Images. Mike Lawn

Montenegro Calling!

And, no, this isn't about Eurovision! 

From time to time..ok who (whom sounds too up it's self) am I kidding? Let's just say, regularly. Yep, that's it. I regularly have such random dreams... many are like film sets, though last night's was more like a comedy sketch! 

One of my close friends had gone to Montenegro by himself. I didn't know this until another close friend of mine, went too and also didn't tell me. I only found out after seeing photos, on her socials, of her floating in the sea in a large inflatable. 

I managed to get a cheap flight, and flew over there, by which time, my male close friend had flown home but my female friend had stayed (she is renowned for delaying her flights back when she is away...mind you, I don't blame her!). I joined her and we had such random times..including her saying, ''It's a pity so and so is married'' ( a lovely colleague). I was shocked and replied, ''Oh my God. I didn't know you fancied him!''. Her, ''Oh no. I just fancy a snog''! See, random!

On our return journey on the bus to the airport, another friend of mine was on his way home after also being in Montenegro! It's strange as neither he or my female friend a tan. It was me that was really bronzed! Hilarious for those who know me and refer to me as Casper (at least it's a friendly ghost. Could be worse!). 

The following week, I was stood outside The Lowry Theatre in Salford and Jack P Shepherd (yes, David in Corrie) came running out to greet me. He had a part time job there but had just returned from, yep you guessed it, Montenegro! His tan was dark..but then I saw it! A gooey patch at the top of his leg. It looked like treacle, but it smelt like gravy! You could actually peel it off!

A friend of mine says that it means that what is on the surface isn't real so to be aware when meeting new people. And that the people I know and love are genuine no matter what their outward persona... 

But I am choosing to believe that Montenegro is calling! 

Greetings wherever you are are,

A Real Northern Hermia x

Take Me For a Spin!

A spin. Verb-Turn or cause to turn or whirl around quickly. Noun- a brief trip in a vehicle for pleasure. Quick or brief. I am pretty sure that seven months shouldn't follow either of those words?! I mean, I love the waltzer because it spins quickly, but I love it because it doesn't last for long! And some people class their relationship as long term even if they have only been with the other person for six months!! Not exactly a spin, would you say? Then again, the U-haul thing can be common in the gay world! There's a saying  that I always loved..'here's me not able to find a matching sock, but there is she able to find her 'true match' every two months'! (sic).

If I was an alien, imagine that they definiately exist, I reckon I'd be too afraid to visit planet earth, that's for sure! Imagine looking down from above to see us all scurrying about. Scurrying..that could be another word for spin, could it? 

The other day, I recorded an audition for an animation about a dinosaur family. It was meant to be funny and ridiculous but to be honest, it wasn't that far fetched! Well, I don't think anyway. Ok, apart from the physical differences like I am not a 121 foot Patagotitan, I am a (real) Northern Hermia (short), but apart from that...! Mind you there are drawings of them by the sea, so maybe I am not that different after all! I am still bobbing around on the bottom (top) of the beautiful briny sea..the instability, housing wise, is still thus BUT my Dad has finally had the operation he had been waiting for for two years and my Father in Law no longer needs a heart operation because, apparently it has returned to normal! So that's two things.. will the third be a permanent home? And when will that come? 

Until then, 'I'm spinning around, move out of my way..'

Credit: bilimseldunya

Weird People Rock!

Dance it, dance it... 'Cause you're free

To do what you want to do

You've got to live your life

Do what you want to do

'Cause you're free...' If I sing it loud enough, will it suddenly be true?  

The other day, I shared a meme (I know, I know...) which said. "I have two moods. 1. Constant panic and worrying about every detail. 2. It is what it is". It made me chuckle. At that moment I had gone from completely stressing to "oh whatever"! The quote was from a page called 'Weird People Rock'. Is that relevant? Anyway, my head is racing round and round like a big Catherine Wheel on Bonfire Night. 

Since our landlady caused such an unstable living environment by not only increasing our rent hugely, but also by being unwilling to negotiate with us as anything less wasn't "tenable" (I know), I feel like I'm becoming more weird, (by society's standards) each day. This usually extroverted woman is becoming a little more introverted with each passing day. The fighting just to get what we should have, just to get some sort of home, the injustice of it, packing boxes with no idea of where they will be unpacked, is enough to throw anyone off balance..and when you add to that the shock illness and death of my Mother in Law, plus a father in law who is in and out of hospital and the fact that our landlady is unfairly, but legally by all accounts, expecting us the pay the extra rent for the time we have left (even though she has served us a Section 21 because we couldn't afford the huge increase) it's surely enough to make anyone want to run away..fast!?! 

As I sit in the early evening sun, and watch both teenagers and adults alike jumping into the quays (the canal), I can't help thinking that I've always prided myself on knowing myself quite well, and for the most part, liking myself too. I've always told those younger than me that once you get your twenties out of the way that you'll feel more comfortable in your own skin. Then, bang! Is this a passing thing? Will my brain suddenly reattach to the rest of me or will I be out at sea, sitting there, bobbing about on the rough British waters in the winter...or longer? 

People ok, friends, my wife, they often ask where my head is at when I start to chat and tell them my thoughts and concerns. Apparently they can be random to them, but to me, they make perfect sense! I was also saying to someone the other day that perhaps those of us who are neurodiverse are actually typical and those who are "neuro-typical" are the neurodiverse ones? One in seven people in the UK are said to be neurodiverse. That's quite high. Maybe we are the "normal" ones? Who decided what is typical in society and what isn't typical? Maybe it was some white middle aged wealthy man who said, "I'm great, be more like me. If you aren't like me, you aren't normal!" Whatever normal is and means, anyway! Why am I wondering if I'm more weird than usual? I mean, weird people Rock, don't they? Don't they? 

Until next time... Bobbing along

bobbing along on the bottom (top)

of the beautiful briny sea...

Love a Real Northern Hermia x

''Two Ladies, a Dog and a Cat in a Van''

Apparently, rocking is a sign of madness...

I am certainly overwhelmed! I am agitated and scared. And I cannot for the life of me remember even simple words half of the time, so if I stare at you for a while before replying, it isn't because you have a huge zit on your nose (I mean, you may do...moooooooollllllllllllllleeee), but because I am working hard to make the cogs turn.

What has happened to me? Instability, that's what. Like thousands and thousands of others, our rent was increased hugely and our landlady didn't want to understand, even though she admitted that we have been great tenants, and replied to us with ''anything less (than the extra) isn't tenable''. Tenable?? What the heck is that? Does she spend her time watching game shows? Tenable?? 😕 Now, I understand that mortgages are going up but I am willing to bet my favourite old cuddle teddy that she does not have a mortgage. If she does, that is because she has remortgaged to buy other properties (she owns several).

I have never been a fan of greed. Society has for a long while thought it acceptable to make a profit out of necessities. It has always made me sick to the stomach. But you know, when people are down, they are easier to control by the establishment. Anyway, I digress. Our landlady served two great tenants (her words) a Section 21 which gives us two months (6 weeks now) to leave. Rental properties in the wider area, due to a housing shortage, are way beyond our affordability so; we went to our local council. 

If you have never been to a housing department before you will find that due to the system that the officers have to follow, things like the dentist and petrol (to and from caring responsibilities) aren't deemed necessary. Initially we weren't even able to bid on social housing but a Section 21 means that we are at risk of homelessness. 

Housing associations upload their available properties to the council home site at random intervals, but I have yet to see more than six available properties on there, and out of those, only one maximum two that we are eligible for. And for another matter, most are without any photos (even of the outside) and have very little information. One property didn't even have a street name in the description! 

In my opinion, council housing officers do their best and are actually lovely, but when there are barely any houses, what are they to do? At least you feel like you are human there. One particular staff member remembers everyone's names when they arrive and leave. She must see hundreds a day. I am impressed, but it is a thankless task- seeing lots of distraught people each day. I have seen people with suitcases piled up in front of them- scenes which have been reminiscent of a modern ''Cathy Come Home''- a wonderful film by Ken Loach (if you haven't seen it). 

So as I type, I am surrounded by boxes with no idea where I will be taking them and where we will be laying our heads, come the beginning of October. The system has no regard for peoples' wellbeing.  We have to wait it out, bidding on properties we can't get due to being in prevention and not full blown homelessness yet, and then when we leave we go into what is called 'relief'. Will we be a priority then? You'd think so, but no...Not for at least 50 odd days. So we need to stay with a friend (none of our friends have the room), go into emergency accommodation, or sleep in the car...yep this is the situation which many nice, working (I add this in case you fall victim to believing that poorer people are lazy) reliable people are finding themselves in. Maybe Maggie Smith's Miss Shepherd, had the right idea, but rather than ''The Lady in the van'', it will be 'Two Ladies, a Dog and a Cat in a Van''!

That's all from Limbo Land for now. 

Sending love to everyone out there!

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia x

 

Livin' La Vida Loca..

Come on..living la..’ Well, that’s how the last 18 months or so have felt, haven’t they?! Hopefully more normality will ensue. It needs to happen!

Apologies for the lack of blog last week. It was crazy. Away for a day or so, and then back LIVE in front of an actual IN THE FLESH audience. What a dream it was to be back on the stage and working with creative friends and colleagues once again!

So, I have gone from auditioning in smart tops while wearing my knickers (and, no, they aren’t on show,cheeky) to wearing my thicker pj bottoms, listening to the roar of the thunder while I type. It has gone from 30 degrees a few days ago, to 12 degrees now! Madness.

I had a break from work and house sorting this weekend as I went to see my parents. It was the first time I’d seen them since March which is far too long. Madam Corona has outstayed her welcome by at least 17 months..yep, yep, I know it’s been 18 months, but I’d had enough in month one! The walls were meant for climbing, weren’t they?! ;)

Ta-ta for now,

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia! x

Wake Me Up Before You Go Go

...Was the cry as we spent the third or fourth solid 12 hour day packing and transporting our stuff to the new house we are renting. I was literally swaying back and forth, side to side. We had had about 4 hours sleep for goodness knows how many consecutive nights running. No time to eat. Being in the kitchen with boxes towering over me while my other half transported things from other parts of the house, was definitely overwhelming. I could not move to pack more even if I tried.  I escaped upstairs and, yep you guessed it, packed something else! We grabbed whatever snack we could. The previous week, I only sat to eat my tea. It was all work, work, work, pack pack pack, audition, pack etc. This week, even this so-called Duracell Bunny is dead on her feet! I would say, ‘if I didn’t see another box in my life it would be too soon’, but I can’t because we are still absolutely surrounded by stuff. Please let me fall into a ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ and someone wake me up when it’s done! Ha ha. In other news, I’m off to the theatre tonight. Yep, an actual IN PERSON LIVE play! It’s been so long since us thesps have been allowed ‘’home’’.

Till next time,

A Real Northern Hermia x

Hectic Fever Diva!

 
Well we are still unsure as to where and when we are moving to, and I can confirm that the grass definitely isn’t greener in ‘limbo land’!

Oh, by the way, I am no longer ‘’just’’ an actor, presenter and voice-over artist, but I am a hair colourist too. Ha ha. I have wanted a balayage for a long time and spoke to my hairdresser about it. I booked a date to have my new headshots taken (more about that in a bit), but my hairdresser is now away for a while, so I took a deep breath and taking matters into my own hands, within a few hours, I had transformed my hair. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but after researching, I think that I managed to ‘paint’ (this is how the technique is described) my hair quite well. I’ll pop a photo lower down.

Have you watched the Davina McCall documentary called Sex, Myths and the Menopause? It’s about time that women’s health was thrust into the spotlight. I don’t know about you, but I know of so many people who have suffered after being brushed off by doctors, told that they have to go private if they want to be referred to a specialist clinic (you do NOT ..It even says this under the NICE guidelines, along with not giving out anti-depressants to treat peri and menopause symptoms as a first resort). I’ve always said that if these side effects were experienced by cis-gendered men, there would be a cure at every petrol station! I’m not at that point yet, but I always keep an eye on such things as friends are struggling and also, forewarned is forearmed as they say. However, I feel like my hormones have always ruled my life (and have been fobbed off and told it’s ‘women’s problems’, growing up). This leads me on to hectic fever diva!

As I was saying before, I booked to have my new set of actor headshots taken next week. The reason for it being next week is because this should be before we need to pack and move house, and also it should have been the week or so after my period. However, I am already a week late (before you ask, there hasn’t been an immaculate pregnancy), and last week, I was so exhausted, sickly and dizzy. Hormones are now causing hectic fever (hot and cold), hot flushes, and I am very emotional (I’d probably cry at a walkers’s crisps ad right now), cranky and worn out. Once it starts, my skin goes grey, acne thinks it’s my best mate, and my hair tends to look like it belongs on one of those long sticks at the fair (no, cheeky, not a scarecrow. Then again, maybe I could be the new Worzel Gummidge…). Still, at least I know what my new ‘casting type’ will be! Now where are all those roles for a tired, cranky, emotional, irrational, candy floss woman? Hit me up!

That’s it for now!

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia x

P.S Here is a photo of my balayage.

Hustle Bustle, Duracell Bunny!

'Every day I'm hustling.. (insert music) ' Yes, this is me, the Duracell Bunny, a nickname given to me by one of my best friends because, in more normal times, I run around doing a million and one things, attending countless events on top of work, while making time for friends and family. Last week I had the taste of my ‘’old life’’ back again. A crazily busy week and it was brilliant. Albeit tiring! Usually I can cope with the hustle, bustle and the juggling. Last week by Saturday, I felt like one of the zombies in Shaun of the Dead. I think it’s the trying to move house which tipped my balance. We’d seen 6 places on the Wednesday and on the Saturday, we saw another three, then I had to go to the chemist and then we’d arranged to see some friends. I felt like I was falling asleep in my seat. Our friends are not boring, may I add, but I guess that this pandemic has sucked some of my Duracell energy out of me. I need to become a rechargeable pack!  BUT that must be the light flickering at the end of the tunnel now. Surely?! I can hear it saying..well, it's more of a whisper but it's definitely there, ‘come on, we can do it..we are almost there’!

It’s midweek. And not just any old Wednesday, today has started off very interesting…in most jobs, if you got asked to engage people while making dinosaur noises, you’d probably laugh and think it was a joke.. Ha ha. But an actor says, ‘Oh yes, sounds great. Where, when and how much is the budget?’
Hashtag An actor’s life!

Have a good week!

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia! x

Spin That Hamster Wheel!

 And…The Hamster Wheel Keeps Spinning!

Thank you to those of you who have started following and reading my blog..this is only my second post and since I have published my first, I have become not just busy, but crazy busy! This Real Northern Hermia is not just juggling work and projects but also wasps nests and moving house! Or trying to anyway! The Hamster wheel does indeed keep spinning, and you know how it is, or if not you can imagine how it is, when you have little legs!

In the space of a week, we found our dream flat, we thought, jumped through hoops with references, ID, selfie photo verifications on this app and that app..all on the busiest day EVER, I hasten to add- two different jobs, test driving a car and I was back in a particular studio for the first time in over a year, but anyway, after all of that and getting references in, the following day we were told that our initial offer had been cancelled as the current tenant had decided to stay, so, deflated we were back on that hamster wheel! And how it spins!! Yesterday, we saw 6 different flats/houses and none of them screamed ‘’this is your new home’’..in fact two of them screamed, ‘’get out fast’’ not that we were able to as we actually got locked inside. Yep, you did read that correctly, LOCKED IN! So there was us..well, me, needing a leg up to get over the back gate. Like a farcical game of cops and robbers!

Now, I must follow the link for the Covid vaccine..for the umpteenth time to see whether I'm still being told to go all the way to Darwen or whether I will be allowed to utilise one of the MANY vaccination centres in Manchester…you know, where I live! #jumpsbackonthewheel..until next time!

Love,

A Real Northern Hermia x

A Real Northern Hermia, Keeping up the Spunkiness!

Well here we are, my first ever blog! I'm not sure if this will work out, but I thought someone somewhere may be interested in hearing about a real Hermia..yes, I do mean from A Midsummer Night's Dream.. Myself and a friend who is also petite and the same height as myself, have always used the slogan for our work..'though she be but little she is fierce'..so this is me, a Northern woman living in the North West, juggling various jobs, responsibilties and trying to push her career forward, while keeping up with her spunkiness. 

Recently I heard of a callout for stories about being abused by someone in a position of power, in my industry..I wrestled with this..I was 20 when someone took advantage of me, and though I had told some people over the years, and spoke about it publically when the #metoo movement kicked off, I hadn't fully revisited that ''event'' since. By revisited, I mean every single detail, the day, the time, and exactly what he did, the fact he encroached on my work two days later, coming into a room, via the only exit out of that room, and begging me not to tell the police. It took me two weeks to prepare myself, and though I had, by this time, missed the deadline, I emailed every single detail over to the organisation. I felt fine and ready to do this, but afterwards, I was sort of floating, a bit like an outer body experience? I was chuffed that I had done it, but I felt..I don't know..weird...not like myself. I guess, I could prepare myself as much as I wanted, but that writing each little detail out wasn't as ''easy'' as telling what the short version had become. That version had 20 years to get used to itself. But it's done, I offered to voice my own ''story'' too, and I have allowed myself to be proud of me. 

Love,

a Real Northern Hermia