I WOULD RATHER HAVE THE CASH.COM is a site and blog, sharing my experience quitting the booze.

Sunday, 29 November 2009

Anger Management...?

Yesterday was a great day, but I still had a couple of bad moments, I am going to share with you. (Mainly because I've sort of established by persona as a grumpy old woman now!)

So, Friday night I left work after a great meeting with my boss and some talent, and I had to take the Z1 camera kit back home with me for a shoot on Saturday. (My own doing, cannae blame no one!)

Rush hour, on a Friday night at 6pm, is not pleasant when you are carrying a massive camera back on one arm, and a massive tripod bag on the other. I thought my innocent face would mean grown men would stop and help me down the stairs, silly thought that was as everyone just tutted and huffed past me constantly knocking the bags off my shoulders. Ironically, I get pissed at people carrying bags or babies during rush hour, now I have sympathy towards them.

I went to the gym with my mate Emilee and had some dinner, and ended up venting my built up anger from my trecherous tube journey out on the treadmill instead. Although why I'm not a size 6 yet is baffling me...

Then on Saturday morning, I had to make a similar journey with the kit to the shoot. As I got near Arts Ed in Chiswick, I thought 'mmm, I'll stop and pick up a nice cheese and chicken baguette'... As I walked into the cafe, I laid my tripod bag down and it lightly tapped the woman next to me. Horrified it had knocked her (not knocked, tapped) I apologised immensley, to which she just shrugged. Rude? Much?

On my way out she gave me a shitty look, to which I replied with my equally disgusted 'yeah, fucking what?' look.(Once a council estate kid, always a council estate kid). Then she said, now get this... "What? You want me to apologise for YOU hitting ME with your bag...?" To which I replied, quite quickly as well may I add... "No, I want you to ACCEPT my apology for accidently hitting you with my bag." (Not hitting, tapping). Then, this grown woman, this stuck up, Posh Chiswick, DICKHEAD of a woman replied "but it really hurt!" Astonished, I just mumbled something like "like bugger it did" and walked out.

A normal person would leave and be thinking "mmm, chicken and cheese baguette in ones hand" but not me. I then spent the next hour wishing I had replied with something better than my useless mumble, and feeling so bad a woman had been so snotty with me, for something I had so genuinely apologised for.

This ladies and gentleman, is the time most people would be thinking of that Jack Daniel's they were going to neck later that day. (Honestly, sub consiously, you do.)

So, we do the 5 hour shoot. Went amazingly well, but it is exhausting to produce.

I returned back the way I came at 5pm, camera bags gallore still, and an hour and a bit back to Kentish Town, I'm shattered, and still peaved at that damn woman.

But I couldn't sit and moan, as I had tickets to see my favourite comedy act, 'Late Night Gimp Fight' (if you havent heard, google then go watch.)

10 mins into the show and I realised it wasn't Jack Daniels who would brighten by night up, but the 5 boys from Gimp Fight.

Who said the answer is at the end of the bottle? Its not... it's at the PLEASANCE.

Thanks lads


Friday, 27 November 2009

Grumpy Bollocks and attending the theatre

Hello People,

Nice to see I have a couple of followers and most people are enjoying the blog. Apparently I have some grammar mistakes, I apologise now, but I didn't have the best schooling. It wasn't until I hit 18 that my reading age was the same as my age.... My IQ isn’t much brighter.

Anyhoo, so yesterday I had a bit of a shitty day. The annoying thing is, I haven’t made this blog anonymous, so I can't actually tell you all everything in case those people I am talking about read it...

But, i had a shitty day. I was a grumpy bollocks all day, even though I was meeting my friend in the West End as we had comp tickets for Hairspray - the Musical.

So, I left work and met Nathan. He is still a drinker, and offered me a glass of wine, forgetting about my drastic life change. I am not going to lie to you, I was tempted. You know when you have that mid week moment, where for a split second you think "Fuck It?”. I can imagine it’s that wild little rock chic in me that likes to think I am Sarah Harding, and I can wake up and still look gorgeous after going out on one... But, I am a tee total-er now. So I had to settle for diet coke (slowly weaning myself off the Redbull – it was causing me problems! Mainly wee-ing issues)

Nathan was in a buzzing mood... singing in the streets (a habit I seemed to have picked up on by 11pm) and we headed over to Hairspray, feeling a little more uplifted. Although his Vodka Diet cokes might have perked him up, it was purely his personality that cheered me up.
The show was AMAZING! I am big Phill Jupitus fan anyway, working in comedy and all… but he was just OUTSTANDING! He looked like a mates mum I grew up with though, you know those large,loud, boisterous mums that stood around in the council estate? He was that woman! (Still mentioning no names, although I’m sure she still wouldn’t be able to work a computer!)…

But his singing was ok, his acting was top notch, and the whole production completely wowed me!
So I left the theatre, and imagined Nathan meeting some of his mates in the cast, and all heading back to his bar in Soho and having a few drinks, and you know what, because of the day I had, I couldn’t tempt myself. I thought, if there was one day I would break, this could be it.

So I came home, and called my boyfriend in France for two hours instead.

Willpower is being tested a bit; I won’t lie to you, but so far, so good.

BTW some of you keep asking me questions on Twitter or FB, feel free to ask away.

G x

Thursday, 26 November 2009

Comedy Night, the night one is usually a wee bit tipsy...

So, last night, was my Noostar Comedy night for work. I really do love doing these nights. I book the acts, arrange the whole night, promote it, and it all culminates in one show in Soho, once a month.

This one, was a mahhhusive one! I booked a whopping 10 acts! I do the booking the acts myself, the first time without the aid of our old researcher Jason, who had a real eye for comedy. So after a month of online badgering everyone to come, and getting it online and in the press (we were Time Out recommended dont you know??)... the night came.

It's a big deal for me, as I want to be a comedy producer, and my boss comes down to the gig every month, which great as he is a busy man. So I get to Freedom in Soho for around 5pm to sound check, set up the tables and programms etc, and by 7pm, the doors open and were getting photoshoots done with the comedians, and we're smoozing the media types who come down.

Now normally, by 7pm, I would have rewarded my hard work with a glass of wine. A red if I may... but last night, I couldn't. So Im running around, worried about breaking even on the door, worried my acts are all happy and have actually arrived (its so hard doing a comedy night without comedians) and making sure the door is ok, the event manager is ok (he was fine, HE was pissed!) bla bla bla... and doing that all, without the relaxing warmth of a red wine in ones body, was... new...

But it was another challenge, and another hurdle. And I passed like a virgins sti check.

Tonight im off to see Phill Jupitus in Hairspray, lets hope he is any good or I'll be wanting to hit the bottle like Jim Davidson when I leave! (Overdramatic? Much)

Anyway, once again, if you like the blog, give me a shout out. (Holler like a DJ you get me??!)

Mucho Love
G x

Tuesday, 24 November 2009

What a difference, a shitty day makes...

24 little hours...

Shouldn't complain, but you know I will...

Today, was an example, of how EASY it would be, to come home, open a bottle of red and U.N.W.I.N.D...

I was so grumpy by about 3pm at work. God knows why? Bit of pressure, too much thinking, little low with the miserable weather - you know the thing.

Had a row with my flatmate and best mate James too. It was stupid aswell, I owe him some bill money, and he wanted ME to go to the cashpoint, and i wanted HIM to go to the cashpoint... you can see how it started?? So, really, I sort of wanted, to come home, and have a drink.

I tweeted my anger too, and I will mention EVERMORE FILMS are naughty.... they actually encouraged me to drink? The swines.


I went to the gym again. I know? The fucking gym?? Seriously, if anyone reading this knew me a year ago, they would be convinced I had been abducted my healthy aliens and had my brain cells changed to those of athletes...

I went to the gym, and people watched. You know that thing when you look like your working out, but really you are watching the fatties on the treadmills??

So, to conclude this crap blog of rambling, I didnt drink. But I do seem to be replacing alcohol with food.

That reminds me, I bought 4 x chocolate muffins for £1 in Sainsburys today, so on that note, Im off..

Do comment if you feel like it, you dont have to login or anything. If you are too mean though, I will hunt you down and force you to attend the gym with me.

Peace out, Westlife
G x

Monday, 23 November 2009

Recent anti drinking scenarios...

After my initial blog, I remembered a couple of other vital occasions, where I have fought the need to drink. Yay me!

The first one, the night before my party, was ... and I kid you not, VIP tickets for MUSE at the o2! A very cool friend of mine, a TV presenter is friends with the drummer, and 5 of us went to the o2! Now, guys, this is FREE DRINK all night, this is partying with the coolest band on the planet right now (Its twilight month afterall!).... After the gig, we troddled down the weird halls into the family room. A few women breast feeding in a stuffy office looking room, and we figured we were hanging in the wrong room... so we went to the VIP - VIP room. Whilst everyone was necking the complimentary vodka, wine and beer, I drank... redbull. And unfortunately, lots of it. I went back to a mates flat with the girls (and Dom) and we put MTV on the flat screen and had a boogie... by this point, I was off my trolley on redbull. That drink DOES NOT give you 'wings', its gives you 'wee'... and a lot of it. By the time I got home around 5am, I had around 18 pees on the loo, and couldnt sleep for anything! So, I changed one vise for another... not a good idea.

Another occasion when I could have easily caved, had I not had the sheer willpower, was my recent trip back home. NORTHAMPTON. Now, as Alan Carr will tell you, we are not ones to deny where we come from. BUT.MY.FUCKING.GOD. That place is hideous. I have the best family and friends ever, but going out in that town, sober - was a huge challenge for me. No wonder why my mate Soph was knocking back the wine, I almost praised her.
We walked our way from bar to bar, a tad boring when sober and you can actually feel your feet hurting, with the DJ in each place deciding it WAS still in fact 1999, and the women in some of the bars? They are either wear nothing, and in fact spend the evening 'bossom pounting' (thats my new term for pouting with your tits out) or they look like men in drag. Seriously, at one stage I thought Wayne Rooney was woddling about in drag... (shudder).

So... two nights, and two very different reasons for wanting to knock back the booze, and I witheld... can I keep it up? Lets hope so..

If you like this blog, tell your friends, and leave a comment. I have frigging no experience with using blogger...

G x

Ok, so I'm blogging, this should be fun.

Wowzers, blogging hey? How 21st Century of my ass….

OK! I will give you all a wee update, but I won’t go on about my past in some 'This is your life' fashion, ‘cos frankly, no one gives a monkeys !
So, its Oct 31st - Halloween, I am running around Soho House with some friends (mainly TV people, TV presenters, music industry types) and I've probably spent £100, and I’m pissed. The theme is ‘Dead Famous’, so I went as Keith Floyd. I look more like a murdering butcher with random blood splattered all over me, but I don’t look the silliest person there. My mate Monkey has gone as ‘Dead Madonna.’ (Cheating, but a great costume none the less).

On the Sunday, I wake up, and once again, feel like crap. I am dehydrated, self loathing, feeling fat and glum, and then depression kicks in.
Every week thousands… no millions of us do this to our self. I am not alone feeling this way, as I stuff my face on a Sunday with my third packet of Wotsits as I watch the Saturdays X Factor on Sky Plus.
Most people drink because they think it loosens them, makes them more courageous and fun loving… and hey, if its only once a week, whats the harm right?
Well for me, it doesn’t ADD anything. I am not louder, more confident. I am still the same me, only hobbling, more scint, and slowly aging quicker in the process. So on that Sunday, I figured I had gulped my last glass of white wine… I had downed my last Tequilla, and I was quitting the booze.

Bit drastic? Possibly. But I don’t do things by halves.

So, I quit the booze. Bit tricky as it was only 2 weeks before my mahhussive 25th Birthday Party at PUNK, SOHO and I was laying on champagne galore…
I had friends from Northampton, all my London mates, work mates – everyone who would usually associate me with a drink – having 200 people each individually asking me “why im not drinking” can get tiresome, so at about 10pm, I just rolled around drinking redbull out of a glass with ice PRETENDING I was drunk. “If you cant beat them….”

So, I decided to give myself an aid. A focus. Something to aspire with.

So I have decided to set up a site called www.iwouldratherhavethecash.com with my good friend David Gatt. A gimmick almost, but dead serious, and a vocal distraction for when people ask that dreading question….

I WOULD RATHER HAVE THE CASH will keep a tally, with HOW many drinks I get offered, and HOW MUCH money I would have raised had I asked for the cash instead (and got it!)
So, the next time I am out in Soho, and someone offers me a drink, and I WOULD have ordered a large white wine, I will type down £4.20 into the tally instead…. Be interesting to see how much I get.

But for now, my sober ass is going to get back to work.

Speak soon
G x