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South Pacific in North Shields After work on Frid...
Blanuary Jews January is meant to be a depressing...
Tempus fugit Sadly those are latin words, so I'm ...
Under the knife Actually, I've no idea whether th...
A few loose ends This blog is about the details, ...
Friday night After the exhilaration of setting up...
What an eventful day. First I set up a show and no...
The Show! It's time to start bleating on about Th... my life While I'm currently having a stab a...
Time to post Now I appear to have time to post, b...

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Monday, January 31

The grass is always greener
In an attempt to work out whether the grass is greener the other side of the fence, I checked out my neighbour's lawn from the perspective of my garden. There was no doubt - the neighbour's lawn appeared a lot greener. I then shinned over the fence and had a look at my own lawn. My lawn still looked the worse. What does this prove? It proves that I don't do enough gardening... or maybe that the particular strain of grass that was planted in my garden is not as suitable - or maybe I don't have the right sort of drainage. Maybe it proves that my attempt to debunk an old saying is not going to work if I take it too literally.

There is no such thing as the perfect life. You might hanker after one sort of lifestyle, not realising that it comes with its own drawbacks. The happy family man is burdened with responsibilities that make him wish he were the carefree single man. The carefree single man may well wonder what there is of worth in his life and hanker after a better job. The guy with the great job may well work all the hours he possibly can and still feel unsatisfied, looking for some spare time... and so on. You can't compare your life to someone else's. Everyone would change their lot somehow.

So, perhaps it's necessary to compare your own life against itself. Am I better off now than I was a year ago? Am I going in the right direction? Is this what I expected for myself?

Looking at these questions personally, I would have to say that I couldn't possibly have expected my life to turn out the way it's going. I like what I'm doing. There's a great deal of stuff to keep me busy and I like talking about the things that I'm doing. Perhaps there's a sense of self-aggrandisement when I do, but I think I'm more passionate about the things that I'm up to than I am about what they say about me. If that makes sense. Sure, I may be a stand-up comedian, but it's stand-up that's good, not me. As a friend recently suggested, and I agreed totally, it's being one of the good guys that's important, not making yourself look good.

I had a look back at the Ashley of 3 years ago. I read the blog entries of January 2002. I was pretty dull, moaning on about Pop Idol results and computery things. Now, I moan about Musicals and comedy... no more dull, you might say... and you'd be right... um... well, I still prefer the me of now.

I wouldn't mind being a bit younger.

A week of rehearsing
I ran out of steam last night, which is odd, because I don't run on steam. I should have been continuing my one-man whirlwind of sorting-out-the-house, but I couldn't be bothered and so took an early night. I then slept quite late into this morning (late for a work-day), though I was in work earlier than I needed to be nonetheless.

This week will be taken up with rehearsals... except Friday night where I've got a costume call and Saturday where I have either a day at home or a day's labour in Leeds.

Tonight is my last rehearsal for South Pacific until after Guys and Dolls. I will need to pay attention, then.

Show weeks can really take it out of you. Two in close succession could well do me in. However, as I hit 30 mph this morning on the way into work, I didn't feel like a man about to be beaten by a few days' performing. As I walked up the hill from the Barber's at lunchtime, I felt slightly more breathless. I don't think the chocolate muffin that followed my lunch did my fitness any good. There should be a word for the feelings of pleasure caused by being in the process of eating a good muffin. As the dough melts in the mouth and spreads the flavour and taste into the head... aaaaah.

Time travelling barbershop
I asked my barber for a time-travelling haircut today and he obliged. I want my hair to be "grade 2" in 7 days' time. He had a go - I don't think he sent his clippers into the future, but he did his best. He cut my hair at 88mph if that's any help to the geeks out there.

Right. The roads and the bike are beckoning.


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