'Always keep that happy attitude. Pretend that you are holding a beautiful fragrant bouquet.' Earl Nightingale

I’ve lost something. I don’t know what it is, but it’s starting to cause a little bit of anxiety. I am happy, but there is a big feeling of self doubt kicking in. I think it may be that I have started enjoying living such a commercial life. I seem to have lost my zest for being humble, and am enjoying gloating and revelling in spending money. I despise people who rely on money as a form of social acceptance, and that is what I think I have started doing. I think I am realising it now I realise I am spending my days doing nothing but being frivolous and am not inspiring myself to meet new people.

I can count on my hand the number of people that I can just go for a quick drink with, and this has been down to my own self being indulgent and indifferent. I haven’t been accepting many olive branches and am now starting to feel a bit lonely.

Although I am doing well financially, I can’t help but feel I have lost my zest for creative endeavour. I haven’t got any projects on the go that I can wholly throw myself into, so am now having understanding the meaning of being sufficient. If I want to remain doing well, I have to start injecting some of my time back into the arts. Performing isn’t like a horse. You can’t jump back on it whenever you want. The horse has short term memory loss and you have to remind it of who you are, and to reassure it that you are in fact good at riding. So I could just spend my time travelling, getting off my face, being a hedonistic tearaway and creating amazing anecdotes to tell, or I could keep dipping  my toes in the pool, making sure that I don’t  forget how to swim. I have decided already that next week I shall be going back to Southend to rehearse and film some acts I have in mind, to send off and make sure I have a show reel. I can rely on word of mouth and people finding me stuff, but maybe I need to start working a little harder….I need to fund my travelling at least.

I am also going to take time on my travels to explore some topics of interest. I should take this opportunity to actually gather some material to work with if I return back to East 15, or for when (or if) I come back and start creating some more realistic work. I needn’t be so naïve when it comes to my art, I’ve already discovered that I am good at what I do (I just need some to find out what it is I am good at).

Like all good things, fun does come to an end. And when you realise that nearly every time you have come to Balans, drinking and blogging on your laptop you have come alone, you begin to remember your life isn’t full of glamour. You may be in a posh place, but you are alone. That’s never a fun thing to learn, but at least it’s character building. I need to stop pretending and I need to start working harder. I’m not being hard on myself, because I have had it easy this past month. I need to prepare myself for what is about to come…

My plans at present are very vague. I have to leave the flat by March 12^th, go home, repack, and then get on a coach to Paris. That is it. No accommodation and no job (however I think I have options).  I’m not scared. Or anxious. Very excited, but not the kind of excitement like you get on Christmas eve, the kind of excitement you get when there is post; it maybe be a bill saying you owe the council a grand, or it might be a cheque for a recently deceased distant family member that you didn’t know about, who happens to own the whole of Croatia… A bit like a box of chocolates which Forrest Gump is tucking into.

So to reassure my lovely readers, I am ok, and I am happy, despite sounding like a depressive. I’m just beginning to wake up and smell the coffee. And It’s not because I work in a coffee house. I do wash.

We’ll make a promise. I shall keep on smiling as long as you all keep on reading…I know that is blackmailing in its worst form…but what are you gonna do? Sue me?

NB I apologise for Miss Cairos obscene language when she stole my bog from me. She’s now in the same place she last left me. But all I have left her with is a glass of turpentine. She’ll get the idea soon enough.

Tiaras, ramblings and a bottle of Perrier Joet

Hey all! It's me. The exotic sex kitten who is Miss Cairo. I have tied Zack up in the kitchen, handcuffed to the oven with the gas left on. But don't worry my beauts, I left him with a bowl of cat food, and a glass of Prosecco.

So this is how  I spend my Valentines day. Alone. In Balans. Only my laptop to keep me company....and a cheeky bottle of Perrier Joet. This is how I shall live the rest of my life. Full of loved up couples and helpless romantics, there's me, in a mini skirt, looking fabulous and wearing a tiara. In my opinion, this is the ONLY way to live your life. No point at doing things halfheartedly. What is the point? You only end up living a life of regrets.
My job at the Box ended. My mornings of sipping Moet are no longer...until I next get booked! I had a wonderful time working there, everyone was absolutely lovely, and now I know how I want to be treated as a performer. In fucking style. It was an honour and a pleasure working with Lazlo, it's not everyday within the first twenty minutes of meeting, you end up stripping each other and fucking a stranger over a dinner table. Unless you're a porn star, and the boiler needs fixing.
It's been a long weekend, as you can probably tell. My writing isn't up to much scratch (when is it?). Working till 4 every morning then working in a pub, then shooting a tv pilot really takes it's toll on you at times. It took me two  days to recover from a weekend running at full steam on 3 hours sleep. And the only way I can come out of recovery is to drink champers all night....however, a modelling audition with a puffy face tomorrow morning isn't going to be fun at all! Fuck it. I'm beautiful enough.

Not much else has been going on in either the lives of Zack or Cairo. It's mainly been; drink, smoke, party, sleep, eat very little, moan a lot and pretend that we are the king and queen of Sheeba. And that's how we rule. With (a little) dignity and (not very much) class.

Zack had an impromptu visit to Southend to surprise two beautiful ladies on thier birthday (because he has a MASSIVE ego, and thinks everyone misses him) and he said it was absolutely wonderful seeing everyone again. He can see the change and growth in you all and looks forward to seeing you all again, hopefully at the circus showing!

Urgh. Die Will Young with your all time love bullshit.

I'm not bitter. I just hate the commercialisation of it all. Why the fuck do you have to spend so much bloody money on one day just to tell someone how much you care for them. Surely you should do it every bloody day. I have been sick of seeing everyones generic 'surprises' of cheap champagne, roses, and fucking chocolates. Be original. For christ sake. If you really want to surprise your loved one, shit on thier chest. An everlasting memory.

Oh god. Queens singing along to 'Saving all my loving for you'. I'd say leave it to Whitney, but she'd probably have a problem with singing it. What with her being not alive and all.

I am being a ranty princess tonight. Fuck it. I am wearing a tiara. And drinking fucking champagne. And fucking swearing. And do you know why. Because I can.

Realising I am only twenty has opened me up to realise something. It is now my job to think I own the world, until I become wise enough to realise that I have a lot of learnin' to do. And that's brilliant. I now have an excuse for doing silly things which I will regret and never learn from.

Two glasses of Champagne and I am a wreck. Luckily I am on my third to balance it out. I think I should sign out now and now wreck valentines day. It's my duty.

Happy fucking valentines day you sons of bitches.