Vienna hangover.

I just spent about fifteen minutes trying to think of a good intro to this blog entry, but decided it would be better to just come out with it.

I fucking LOVE Vienna.

There you go, I said it.

I have just spent another 15 minutes deciding whether  to remove the swear word or not, but came to the conclusion it was absolutely necessary to get my point across.

Vienna was beautiful (I’m sure it still is) I took lots of pictures, but they didn’t really do it justice.  The buildings are fantastically intricate, and the detail on them is just breath-taking.

On a different note I also thoroughly enjoyed being able to smoke in the pub!   I had a wonderful 2 days of complete over-indulgence.  The days was packed with sight-seeing and walking and the evenings socialising, eating and drinking.

It was lovely to spend some time just Moss and I, and also with some of his friends.

On the second night, Moss and I went out, then came back to the hotel quite early.  I had to be up at 6 to go to the airport and Moss had to work.  however after watching the EMAs on telly for awhile, I realised that if I’d wanted to watch TV I could have done it at home.  I was in Vienna!

Me: Let’s go back out.

Moss: What, Now?

Me: Yea, come on, I’m on holiday!

So off we went.  It was a bit silly really, but I wanted to squeeze every last ounce of enjoyment out of my 2 days.  When we got to the bar, some of the crew we there too.  I felt like they were my friends to so we had a few more drinks and then the Jager came out.  

I should know by now when to stop, I knew I had to be up early but was past caring by then.

I don’t remember getting up, or packing up my stuff, or saying goodbye, or checking in.  I remember being sat on a chair at Vienna airport, staring at a water feature and thinking ‘this is what it must feel like to be almost dead.’

Next I was at the gate waiting to board.  I saw a drinks machine.  I needed water badly, but wasn’t sure if I could actually make it over there without falling from dizziness.  I went for it.  There were 2 types of water, I had enough sense about me to realise that one was still, and one was sparkling, but I couldn’t understand the words. I needed still.  After swaying at the machine for a minute, I picked one and stumbled back to my seat.  I opened it. It was sparkling.  I wanted to hurl right then and there but needed to get the still water to rinse the taste of the sparkling out!  I fumbled about for more euros, I couldn’t count, the machine seemed so far away.  I was dizzy. I wanted to curl up in a heap and die.  I hadn’t felt this bad in years….

I don’t like flying at all, but I always promised myself it would never stop me from doing anything.  

We took off, the plane was small and I felt every movement.  The feeling of my alcohol filled stomach jumping up, the bouncing, the tilting.  I felt my whole body get hot.  Too hot, I was visibly sweating.  I reached for the sick bag and a voice in my head started shouting  ’Don’t you DARE, don’t you dare be sick on this plane, for gods sake sort yourself out.  

I wasn’t sick, but something strange started to happen.  I started to shake.  I mean really shake, I couldn’t help it, I moved positions to try to stop it, but I kept shaking.  The woman next to me glanced over, I was ghost-white, sweating and shaking and I’m pretty sure everyone on the plane could smell the alcohol streaming out of my every pore.  

The captain came on and said the air was rough (no shit!) and we would be landing in about 40 minutes. A new hot flush wave came along.  Forty minutes?  No!  I can’t do it, I cannot last 40 minutes on this plane.  I want to get off now!

It was so awful, I never want to experience that again, god know how I lasted, but I did.  After that I had 3 1/2 hours in Dusseldorf to kill, and kill me it nearly did, I wanted to sleep so badly but I didn’t want to be that person sleeping in the airport.  It passed in a haze…somehow.  Eventually I was on my next flight to Manchester.  By now I just wanted to get back and see my kids…and sleep.  I was so hung over and tired I had tears in my eyes as we touched down.

What a trip!  Such an amazing time, seeing my husband, seeing Vienna and almost seeing the contents of my stomach on the plane!  

I amaze myself sometimes, I am 31 and sometimes I still act like Im 19.  One thing is for sure though, the whole drinking then flying lesson has been well and truly learnt! 

 

 

Shoe shopping.

I didn’t plan on buying new school shoes today, but when both my kids came home with gaping holes in theirs, I didn’t have much choice.

I went to John Lewis (I know – check me!) as it was close to my mums and I’d had enough of buying £7 shoes from Asda that lasted about 3 weeks.

I had a full on day of getting ready today as I fly to Vienna tomorrow, so I really could have done without this whole shoe shopping thing.  

We walked through the store and Iden stopped and pointed at the mannequins saying “wow, I bet SHE’S good at musical statues!”

When we got to the shoe area, there was a suited man and his assistant running around after a lady with one of the most beautifully dressed, yet obnoxious children I’d ever seen.  We waited about 10 minutes and finally Mr suit approached me.

“Do you have a ticket?”

I looked around at the deserted area

“Err, no, but I think I’m next”

“Oh, ok, that’s great, that’s no problem at all”

I didn’t think it was.  Isla went first, she got her feet measured and tried on 3 pairs of shoes.  As she walked up and down, I wondered what the man thought of us.  Isla was wearing a denim skirt (in November) and one pink and white striped socks up to her knees the other at her ankle, with a mud stain on her calf, and un-brushed hair. Iden looked like he’d just rolled out of bed in his bagging manchester united top and football stained trakky bottoms, with his long blonde hair all over his face.

 Things worsened when it was his turn, he took off his shoes to reveal one light grey sock and one black sock.  Shit!  why didn’t I check?  I knew we were coming here!

“I’m dying to ask” said the suit with a chuckle  ”Does he have another pair of those at home?”

“ha ha ha” I faked “funnily enough, he does!”

I also told him to be very careful with my son’s odd-socked feet as they would be worth millions one day.  His face didn’t crack.

Iden tried on one pair and said they were too tight.  The man said they had plenty of growing space.  I think it was because his others we falling off his feet that anything in one whole piece felt restrictive to him.  

He tried on another and said they felt “lumpy”  ”That’s the curve at the bottom” suit told us.  he finally decided on a non-restrictive, non-lumpy pair, and after 45 minutes we were on our way.

I was really proud of my kids tonight.  Although the suit didn’t quite “get us” they were great, their little personalities shone through, and they were beautifully behaved, odd socked, mud-stained and all.

Tonight I said goodbye to my kids till Friday, it’s not long, but I found it really hard.  I think it’s because I’m actually leaving the country this time and not just hopping on a train.  I gave them both a big hug and a kiss and said I love them and I’d phone tomorrow.  As I drove off I beeped the horn and put the window down, just in time to hear Idens very loud voice shouting “I LOVE YOU BEAUTIFUL!” down the street.  Pretty much made my year.

The minority

One light, one mind
Flashing in the dark
Blinded by the silence of a thousand broken hearts
“For crying out loud” she screamed unto me
A free for all
Fuck ‘em all
You are your own sight

It’s amazing how certain times of your life will happen, then live dormant for years inside you, only to all of a sudden come to light at once.

It started about 2 weeks ago.  I had to give a talk on my time on Ringling brothers circus.  I dug out my programmes, newspaper clippings, pictures, got my act on DVD. and I started to remember my life 10 years ago, my life on the road, my life before I had kids.  My life as a circus acrobat, traveling the states  and Europe. It used to cross my mind now and again, but not like this.  

This past week my husband was in England with Green Day, I went to London, Sheffield, Birmingham and Manchester.  I saw them 5 times, I was a big fan before so it was like Christmas and birthday for me.

I find it hard to explain what I felt when i got backstage, but it was a sense of belonging, even though I didn’t know anyone, I know what that life is like.  I think it’s something that never leaves you once you’ve been there.

To say i missed it, is not enough.  It was a yearning, a need, a must.

I remember what it’s like to be part of a big show, sometimes when you’re doing it, day in, day out, you forget.  It becomes your normal life.  You forget that you’re all apart of something amazing. The riggers, the sound and light guys, wardrobe, catering, spot operators, performers, everyone,  everyone is working towards the same thing.  The amount of work and people that’s involved is staggering – but you are all necessary.

I don’t know what the happy ending is, I’m not in a position to up and leave with two kids at the moment, but saying I wasn’t jealous of my husbands job/lifestyle would be a lie.

I feel big change is coming.  I don’t know what it is yet, but sometimes the universe just gives you a huge smack in the face to keep you in check, you either respond to it or you don’t.  

Ironically,   I was one of the 80.000 people singing “I wanna be the minority” This past week

Forgive me for this unstable blog – I am exhausted, liver-damaged, confused, drained, jealous, bitter and emotional – I’m a fucking woman, what did you expect?