Journal Entries
Emergency at Chateau Ormondroyd
Posted Jun 12, 2005
Earlier today, I was fretting a little about the danger of my life being a bit dull over the summer, what with no University and none of the cultural life that goes with it. Little did I know that before the afternoon was out, I'd have two of the emergency services visiting my flat. 
Chateau Ormondroyd is a first-floor flat that is entirely electrically-powered. Hot water comes courtesy of a boiler in the bathroom. When I got up this morning I noticed that the boiler seemed unusually hot, making the bathroom a bit steamy: but I checked and the boiler's switch was set to 'normal', and I hadn't left any hot taps running. So I went out for a walk, just for a couple of hours...
When I returned, I saw to my horror that the front door of my flat had been smashed in, and I thought I'd been burgled. 
But there was a note on the door handle from the fire brigade. It explained that they'd had to break in to cut off the water supply to the boiler, which had burst while I was out, soaking the bathroom carpet, triggering the building's alarm system and summoning the fire crew.
After I'd been in for a few minutes, the doorbell rang and I had a visit from the police, who'd been alerted by the firefighters. The two officers who called on me were sympathetic but could do little to help. They offered to get my door boarded up, but fortunately I had the presence of mind to ask whether I'd be expected to pay for the service. The answer was affirmative. The answer to whether I could afford this was negative. So there was nothing for it but to wait until tomorrow morning, when I can contact the estate agents who run the building.
Which is a bit of a nuisance, because for now I'm lumbered with a broken door - meaning that I daren't go out - and no hot water. 
But I have had one memorably surreal experience today. I was standing in the bathroom when I felt a drop of water fall on me. I looked up and noticed that condensation had left big droplets of water all over the ceiling, leaving it looking rather like bubble-wrap. So I ended up getting out my mop and reaching up to mop the ceiling. 
And the moral of the story is: be careful what you wish for... 
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Latest reply: Jun 12, 2005
Ormy's film screening date!
Posted Jun 6, 2005
'At Full Consciousness' - the 30-minute film drama in which I star as a very sinister 
- is to have its 
premiere at the Pictureville Cinema in the National Museum of Photography, Film & Television, Bradford, this Friday (June 10) at 10am. Admission is absolutely free.
Sorry about the short notice, but the University of Bradford have done such a poor job of getting information out about this year's screening of students' work that I only got the time confirmed this weekend, and the producer of the film (a University student) didn't know about the screening until I told her!
It's a rather early screening time, but I am pleased by the fact that our film is opening the students' show this year. Clearly, the organisers felt that my adoring public shouldn't be kept waiting for a minute longer than necessary. 
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Latest reply: Jun 6, 2005
A serious senior moment?
Posted May 26, 2005
Last night I went to a cashpoint, inserted my card as usual, keyed in the PIN... only to have it rejected, because I'd got the PIN wrong. I paused for thought, felt confused... 
...and suddenly realised to my horror that I couldn't remember the correct number.
I was tired, and the last few weeks have been mentally and emotionally exhausting for a variety of reasons. But still, this beggared belief. I'd had that number for years. I'd keyed it in so many times that I no longer thought consciously about the number: it was as if my fingers knew what to do.
So I walked away, stunned. Then I thought that I'd remembered the number, came to another cashpoint, tried it... nope. Wrong again.
I realised at this point that I was in the last-chance saloon, and that another failure would mean my card being confiscated. I came to my home branch of my building society, the one that's a few yards from my front door. I thought again... yes, of course! THAT was it!
I inserted the card. I keyed in the number. The machine did its impression of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal. 
It was too late to do anything about it last night. By scraping together my change, I just about found enough money to go ahead with my plan for yesterday evening, which was to go to the movies ('Kinsey', since you ask. Rather good, too. 
). But today I had to go back to the building society armed with some ID and explain the situation. My card was quickly returned. Again, I thought I'd remembered the number at last. Went outside. Tried it. The cashpoint went 'slurp' again... 
The folks at the building society were very humane and patient about it. They let me have some cash to tide me over, and they've ordered me a new PIN to go with the card, which can be returned again tomorrow. But I just can't understand how I've managed to forget a number that I must have used hundreds if not thousands of times. 
Admittedly, some worrying signs of dementia had been setting in for a while. I watched 'Coronation Street' the other week and quite enjoyed it. Worse, in the rehearsals for BUSOM's latest concert tonight, I've been singing an Andrew Lloyd Webber song ('All I Ask Of You') and enjoying that too. So if my mind erodes completely and I start wanting to watch reality TV shows, download novelty ringtones or vote Conservative, please don't judge me too harshly. It seems as if my marbles are rolling away through the grating of time and down the drain of oblivion. 
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Latest reply: May 26, 2005
Forty-Twosday
Posted Apr 29, 2005
6:30pm Tuesday: The brand new series of ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy’ begins on Radio 4. 
11:20pm Tuesday: Repeats of the classic TV series of ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy’ begin on BBC2. 
Never mind renaming Thursday ‘Thing’. Surely, for the next few weeks, Tuesday has become Forty-Twosday? 
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Latest reply: Apr 29, 2005
Life through a lens
Posted Apr 18, 2005
I've spent quite a large part of today on camera. First, in the afternoon, I went to the top floor of the National Museum of Photography, Film and Television to record a small part in a student drama, yet to receive a definite title but due to receive its premiere at the same NMPFT in about six weeks. I was very happy with the way the scene went - we got it in the can in two takes, and I thought I did a decent job. Once again I played a doctor, and once again I had a director telling me to be nastier - in this case, to stop sounding as if I actually cared about my patient! Honestly, how can people keep casting me as these unpleasant characters when I'm so obviously a lovely guy really? 
My second spot of filming was an insert for a forthcoming multi-media show, 'The Cleaners'. It was a considerably more disturbing experience, because I wasn't playing a character but being myself, and talking about fear. Several of my friends were making similar contributions. Vox pop-style compilation films of our talk about our fears will be shown between the live-action scenes of the drama, which is on the theme of urban paranoia.
I didn't hold back when I recorded my bit, and included some very personal stuff about my worst fears. 'The Cleaners' is a show that will, hopefully, eventually be touring the country, but part of the deal I accepted when agreeing to contribute is that I don't get to see the material that was filmed for it tonight until I do so as part of the show's audience.
So I think that'll be a night in the theatre that I'll anticipate a little nervously...
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Latest reply: Apr 18, 2005
Ormondroyd
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