13 March 2004

Days like today are incredibly bad, and incredibly wrong.

When I get up before dawn (I'm not referring to my imaginary girlfriend) you know something dreadful is going on. Like the time I was very bored with life, going slightly mad, and took to going to be in the audience for live breakfast television on a regular basis because it was something to do for a couple of hours, and involved getting a free breakfast.

This morning I left my bed unneccessarily early under duress. Sadly, not by anyone present at the time. I had received previous instructions that today, there was something I must do.

The way things go in the first hour or so of the day is usually indicative of what the day will be like on the whole. This morning, 20 minutes after leaving the house, I had a woman with bad teeth come up to me in Belsize Park. Initially I couldn't understand what she was saying, but then I caught "when you get your finger caught in it or have to blow your nose?" I figured she was talking about my facial piercings - after all, what else could I get my finger caught in that could be affected by me blowing my nose?

This was the second time in two days my facial piercings have attracted attention. On Thursday, a boy of about 3 was in the queue behind me in the Post Office. Usually, if small children want to pose questions about me to their guardians, they will ask either "what is wrong with that lady's legs?" or, of course, "why is that lady in a wheelchair?". Once or twice "why is that lady so fat?"... but the piercings seem to go unnoticed. This boy was persistant.

"What's in that lady's nose? What is that in the lady's nose? What's that? Answer in English. What is that in that lady's nose in English?"

As my friend said, it was like hearing the boring half of a phone conversation as I couldn't undetand what the father was answering. The most odd thing about this for me is that we were only a couple of miles north of Camden Town. Surely by this point in his life, and living in this area, the boy must've seen people with more facial piercings than my measly 10. And why was he only remarking on my nasal accoutrements? I think the fact that I've had a needle shoved into my mouth is far more interesting.

But, yes. Back to Belsize Park. Which seems to serve as a hangout for a lot of London's more colourful characters. The other day I was at a bus stop in Belsize Park and an elderly bloke came up to me and said with a Cornish accent "Are you alright? It's just that my wife, well, she's just like you."

I so desperately wanted to reply "What, a raving lesbian? That must be so hard for you to live with that knowledge," - curse these manners of mine for preventing me from saying that.

10 minutes later, I was still sitting, waiting, and I had another bloke say "Are you waiting to cross the road?" This time I was a bit more plucky. I accompanied my "no, I'm waiting for a bus" with evil eyes and a slightly impatient tone.

None of these people beat the tiny, frail old woman who came up to me and asked me if I wanted help. When I said "no, I'm fine", her reply was

"I'm sorry dear. I didn't mean to force myself upon you. I've helped people like you who were stuck before, see."

I was still cringing by the time I got to Golders Green at the mental images flooding my brain, following her suggestion that she forced herself upon me. Bad and wrong. Call me ageist - but she just wasn't my type.

I've wandered down tangent lane with these Belsize Parkian characters. Forgive me.

Yes, today, started off oddly. By the time I'd gotten as far as E16 (just one short of a boy band. A bit like Westlife now) I could sense that I would really of been better off had I stayed home and slept.

The queue of people hoping to audition for Big Brother stretched right along the side of the ExCel building. It was such a bleak morning. I was there because I'm constantly being harrassed and told that I should be on Big Brother, that I'm fascinating and would be an asset. Clearly, I spend most of my time with slightly crazy people (perhaps they secretly live in Belsize Park?), and I was not offered the option of not going. Well, I could've not gone I suppose - but I'd never hear the end of it. I'm sure, had I not gone today it would even be mentioned in my epitaph:

"Lisy lived a full and brave life, despite her 'problems'. She achieved many things during her 104 years - even if she didn't audition for Big Brother in 2004."

After about 5 minutes of sitting in the queue I found myself rolling my eyes with boredom, every time I heard someone near me speak. I have never before met so many people who are so dull and tedious, and will never get on telly due to their lack of charisma and personality (well, I say that, they could, I suppose, of all been contestants on last years Big Brother). I sat in this queue for 3 hours. By the time I got to the front I was too bored to think of anything else other than how much I was looking forward to going home.

Upon reaching the front of the queue, it was truly special to see all these people who had been so cocky about how wonderful/beautiful/experienced at these things they are just freeze and have nothing to say other than "um, yeah. You should pick me, cos, I'm, err... fun."

They were not selected.

Despite my wit, I was not selected to enter the building either. Funny that.

Embarking upon my journey home, someone who had also been rejected started speaking to me as I rounded the corner towards the DLR station. When he said to me "You used to go to Brunel, didn't you?" I realised he was someone I once had a conversation with on the long night bus journey to Uxbridge. As the train bound for Lewisham arrived at platform 4, he said that he might return tomorrow to audition again, this time with cum stains on his shirt, following tonights excursion to G-A-Y. I wished him luck with that.

Of course, the recruitment process is pointless. They're only going to attract people like me with as much charisma as Tipp Ex. And not even the pink Tipp Ex for pink paper... just normal, boring Tipp Ex. What they should do is send a Big Brother recruitment unit to Belsize Park and just wait.

That would be a TV show worth watching.

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