say what? (17.10.06)

no word of a lie - I just heard the following on television, verbatim...:

"There's no need to be anxious if you have Hiscox personal insurance"

Say it in one breath. Go on.

A hairy issue (16.10.06)

I find myself on the horns of a dilemma. I know, something new and different for me. Hey ho. So - here's the question - is it better to be noticed for being different, or not to be different?

Perhaps I should elaborate...

For the vast majority of my adult and late teen life, I have had short hair. Varying degrees of spikiness, granted, but short nonetheless. Said short hairedness is best illustrated in the picture you see here - althought that was taken a good four years ago, a mere week after I started drama school. But you get the idea.

Since then, my hair has varied in length, style and colour. You name the hairstyle, I've probably had it. All bar long, flowing locks, that is. I recently took the decision to grow my hair, as I thought it would make me 'more castable'. After all, who wants to shell out for a wig if they don't have to? With longer hair, I can play someone from pretty much any era, and as it's infinitely more stylable, of pretty much any type. All well and good, you may think.

But here's my problem. I'm not stunningly beautiful. Yeah, OK, I'll admit I'm probably not what you'd call ugly, but I'm not drop dead gorgeous either. And that's the thing.

I'm fairly average looking. Which is fine - and often better for an actor. But, by definition, that means that I'm not a lot better, or a lot worse, looking than most other people. Consequently, if you were flicking through Spotlight, chances are that if you did notice me, you'd have forgotten me again once you'd looked over another 20 images. Possibly even another two. Just another average looking actress with mid-length, nothingy hair.

However, if I had short spiky hair, I'm going to stand out a bit, just by virtue of being different. If you're flicking through Spotlight, and the other 3 actresses on that spread have mid length hair, you'll probably be more likely to remember me for looking a bit different.

But will having short hair typecast me? Or limit the parts and the plays for which I'm seen? Hmmm. So you see my problem...

photos: short hair copyright lisa bowerman, 2002, blonde hair copyright claire grogan, 2003

sorry, which way? (13.10.06)

Recently, I have noticed a worrying phenomenon occurring in my neck of the woods. Signs, like the one you see pictured, have been appearing everywhere. All pointing to the Dulwich Picture Gallery. Which would be fine – I have nothing against the DPG, in fact, I really rather like it – but for the fact that these enigmatic signs are peppered around South London (it seems that every time I go out in the car I see a new one), and helpful they are not. The furthest afield I have spotted one is at St George's circus. Usefully, this sign points in the general direction of Elephant and Castle, where there are no more signs. And being a large double roundabout with no fewer than 7 exits in total, this kind of scuppers any plans one might have had of being safely ushered from Waterloo to DPG in one flowing, easy movement.

This work of genius is compounded by the fact that (other than the vague sign at St George's Circ) I haven't seen a single sign which points in the right direction... There's one at the corner of Peckham Rye and Nunhead Lane (pictured) which points towards East Dulwich, when in actual fact the DPG is up Barry Road. There's one in the middle of Peckham (for those of you who are local – outside the Kentish Drovers, by the library) which points enigmatically down Rye Lane. Particularly bizarre, given that the sign points the wrong way down a one way street, and the next turning on the right leads straight into the bus garage.

But, above all, there's one at Elephant and Castle, which points in what can only be described as entirely the wrong direction. Again, for the locals, you come up Newington Butts to the South roundabout, and a sign helpfully points towards the South London Tabernacle. Technically, that is the way to the DPG, but only because the laws of the road in this country dictate that you go clockwise round a roundabout. Since you have to take the last exit off that roundabout, the sign would be more helpful pointing in completely the opposite direction.

If you do decide to visit South London, and fancy an injection of culture, I highly highly recommend the DPG. But, for your own sake, look it up on a map and write out the directions before you cross the river - it'll save a lot of angst and confusion in the long run. Trust me. Oh, and for your own sanity, ignore the signs.

(couldn't write a blog about S London culture without a plug for one of my favourite museums - go go go, it's wicked!!)

'Nanas (12.10.06)

More often than not in this world, it would seem that things fall neatly into piles of right or wrong, and generally what goes where is fairly simple to discern. It is wrong, for example, to stab someone in the eye. It is right to offer others the last almond slice before pouncing on it. It is wrong to wear leggings unless you're Kate Moss OR you have something flowing and diaphanous (or a denim skirt) covering your hips. It is right not to sell your little brother into slavery. And so forth. But today, I came across something that I'd never known was wrong, and yet, when I spent some time thinking about it, it became so obviously an abomination that I had to avert my eyes.

Today, a young woman got on the bus and sat in front of me (one of those seats that are rotated 90 degrees to all the others, so I had no choice but to see what she was doing) retrieved a banana from her bag, and proceeded to eat it. All well and good you might think. But she held the banana by the end that connects it to the bunch, and broke off the other end and ate it from the bottom up. At first I thought it curious - it even made me question years of banana eating. Have I been peeling bananas the wrong way for, well, all my life? But then I thought NO! (just like that) - all pictures of peeled bananas in the popular consciousness peel from the stem end, not from the bottom. And then I tried to think of a picture of a peeled banana in the popular consciousness. I failed. A quick image search on Google, however, led me to the images that you see herein. All peeled from the stem end.

I would have rested my case here, but curiosity got the better of me, and I Googled peeling bananas. It would seem that the topic has sparked a number of blog entries - even articles - over the years, but this was my favourite - a blog entry from a chap who has kindly illustrated with photos a better way to peel bananas. Who knew it was such a hot topic...?

I still feel strangely out of sorts, though, like my whole world has been shaken up like a child's snow-dome. Oh well, I'm sure I'll get over it.