I'll give it 110% Lord Sugar

It's Apprentice season again and in our house this means avoiding Twitter and Facebook on Wednesday night (and sometimes Metro the next day) until we've managed to watch the recorded version we have on the telly box. This year the first episode was on a Tuesday night and I had a residents' meeting AGM to attend, so we recorded it and intended to watch before the next night. Only due to some Sky box mix up and a Hubbie confused by reminders it didn't actually get recorded. Then to make matters worse the chap next to me on the train the next morning had the Metro open on the full page story of the first to be fired - thanks mate ! Instead we accepted that at this stage there are too many of them to try and remember so we caught up on Wednesday instead.

First impressions: 

• The women are all terribly young and for some reason really false looking with fake hair, eyes and skin - I kid you not. I'm not about putting women down, but they do look like a new range of Bratz dolls.  
• The men are the usual mix of arrogance, badly fitting suits and Brut. Apart from Myles who is the hottie silver fox who was shown in just a towel to keep the women interested. 
• All contestants are practised and fluent in the hideous 'business' phrases that have created "Bullshit bingo" and "Suralan" drinking games across the nation. 

Of course the real stars are actually Nick and Karen and Hubbie pointed out that she has stolen my trademark 'unimpressed face' and head shake. In the spirit of taking it back I gave him a few simple chores to do while I was out at a yoga course today. I've measured his success in terms that an Apprentice candidate would understand. Judge for yourself how he did:

Task 1: Buy more cat food. The boy loves going to the pet shop in town and he likes to chat to the parrot so it's a win all round. 

Outcome: Cat food bought and delivered safely home.

Success rate: 100%

Boardroom Explanation: I've got the instincts of a tiger and I'm hungry for this opportunity Lord Sugar. I'm a finisher.

Reaction: Smug smile from contestant - grimace from Lord Sugar and "I don't like a one trick pony, cos he's probably a phony."

Task 2: Buy a birthday card for the boy's uncle and post it to go before last post at lunchtime. 

Outcome: Bought card, put in on table in lounge. 

Success rate: 50%

Boardroom Explanation: "I'm a procurement specialist with a good eye for time management. The boy was in charge of postal logistics and I just can't see what he contributed to this task Lord Sugar."

Reaction: Karen shakes head and Nick rolls eyes to ceiling.

Task 3: Clean the downstairs loo - that only he uses. Including the bit where a magazine got stuck to the windowsill (no I didn't ask how) and he left it there so I wouldn't notice it was stuck fast. 

Outcome: Poured toilet cleaner into the pan… erm that's it
Success Rate: 30%
Boardroom explanation: "I get right into a task and I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty, but I'm an ideas man with a head for the bigger picture. I left this to the team and thought they had it covered."
Reaction: Lord Sugar "Those that can't teach, bleach - is that right ?"

So the conclusion here is that if Hubbie was a contestant on the Apprentice he'd be averaging a 60% success rate by now and his piece to camera from the taxi home would go something like this.

Hubbie: "I know I have what it takes to do the chores without being watched over. If I just had a bit more time I could have shown what I'm capable of. I'm not going away though, it's not the last you've heard from me."

Me: I hope not, who's going to bath the boy if you flounce off mate ?

How you like me now ?

"No, my NCT group didn't bond at all." It's the truth we don't tell isn't it ? We're supposed to say that they are the backbone of our friendship group. The ones who kept us sane during the baby bit and who we still have coffee with once a week even though Sabrina went back to her job straight away and Melanie and Mike (the nice ones) have twin babies now as well. Well my group didn't get on from the first meeting - we were all perfectly civil of course (we're not animals), but we weren't about to start meeting up for tea and baby chat and that was clear from the off.

I hadn't actually expressed this out loud until last Friday night. I met up with a friend I haven't seen for years - well not since she had the first of her two children - and we were trying to catch up on around 5 years in a few hours. We had a rapid and wide-ranging discussion that encompassed; our kids, our husbands, going back to work (or not), how long was it since we last saw each other ? the family support we have around us and the groups that we take our kids to. It was during this that she asked me if I had bonded with my NCT group and I uttered the words that you're just not supposed to say. Now, I realise that not all parents choose to go to the NCT pre-natal groups. If you do there is this mythology that they will become your best friends throughout the whole birth and after process and you'll be friends for life (well until you go back to work anyway).

Then it occurred to me that our parents didn't have this option and both my Mother and Mother-in-law have been very honest about how lonely it was raising their first child. Neither of them had family nearby to help and both of them were isolated and caring for a baby without having their own mother around to help or advise. Neither my nor Hubbie's family live nearby so we don't call on them for day to day childcare, but they have been massively helpful with raising our son. My sister still takes care of my boy which enables me to go to work knowing that he is with someone he loves and who loves him. As we are fortunate enough to have families that are pretty internet savvy we use Skype so that they can chat to our son and see him running around playing at home when we can't get to them in person.

We have a great relationship with our neighbours who are very kind to our boy and help us out with childcare so I haven't really felt the absence of that group support that the NCT gathering is renowned for providing. I'm not critical of the NCT, far from it I think it's great and the course we did was invaluable in teaching us so many things we had no idea we didn't know. In fact I still keep in touch with my tutor and have met up with her a few times as well as interviewing her on my radio show. The other parents though, were a different story. I think it comes down to the twin issues of Hubbie's disinterest in 'joining in' and my seeming incompetence at 'fitting in.' Hubbie isn't bothered about making pals with new people so he is friendly, but not trying too hard. Me, on the other hand, I'm trying far too hard. I offer to make tea for everyone, make crappy jokes intended to lighten the atmosphere and talk far too much. It's only when I see people glazing over at another 'interesting' bit of info I just had to share with the group that I realise I've done it again.

What I've always wished for is that effortless cool that I observe in others. Those folk who just ooze confidence and social magnetism and whose entourage hang on their every word. I always desperately wanted to be non-conformist as I knew I wasn't going to be part of the popular crowd. At school this meant making my own clothes (not all of them, just the crazy stuff like a puffball skirt that I'd seen on the Clothes Show), spending ages on decorating my nails and doing my hair differently every day. At university I went a whole other way and found a few groups that I could be part of - the university newspaper, the radio station and my friends who I went to gigs with and dressed the same as. The latter were also the friends I lived with and it was very confusing when the washing consisted of similar goth skirts, black tights and floaty tops only discernible by the different sizes.

Now that I'm a grown up I have learned to embrace my conformism. I like it actually. I still talk too much and I still share too much. I still think that people who like me must have got it wrong. I slightly mistrust them for not knowing better.

So imagine how amazed I was that one of my Twitter followers is Dave Gedge of the band The Wedding Present. Then last night during a radio show I was presenting I tweeted him to say I was playing one of his songs and he tweeted this:

I'm not sure it makes me cool, but it does make me very happy indeed.

See that bloke doing really old jokes ? That's you that is.

This time last week I was in Leicester Square watching Rob Newman try out his new show in advance of a tour and a new book. You may remember him from The Mary Whitehouse Experience or the "comedy is the new rock and roll" gig he did at Wembley Arena with David Baddiel before they famously split their highly successful partnership. Baddiel went on to present football shows, write a hit football song and mediocre novels.

Newman went on to write even worse novels, a lot of very worthy gigs (anti-sweatshops, eco causes, etc.) and all the while I was supporting his fading star while recalling his past glories. The unfortunate thing I found last Monday was that he seems to be doing the same. We had heard the majority of his jokes before and while the political haranguing and history lessons may be new material the impression of Jarvis (sleazy character from way back when) the neighbours with sinister sounding voices and the whole schtick that held the serious stuff together was maddeningly familiar. One member of the audience was clearly so put out about this that he kept stealing a march on the punchlines which is unkind, but less rude than the woman who walked out saying she was going to kill herself instead of still watching.

Most of the audience had heard all this before - you would hardly pay to see a once well known comic doing try out material in the West End on a Monday night unless you were a fan of his would you ?  So it was merely politeness that we laughed at jokes we'd heard many years ago and maybe a misplaced loyalty to him as we guess he probably needs the money. However, loyalty is one thing, blind faith or fandom is entirely another.

Hubbie has a few pretty strong convictions, the number one of these is "never meet your heroes." I first realised this as we were queuing outside the Hammersmith Palais to watch The Fall play the last ever gig there before the venue was redeveloped.  As we waited outside a shambling man in a leather blazer walked between us in the queue and I spotted that it was Mark E Smith - Hubbie's musical hero. I asked him if he wanted to speak to or acknowledge him and Hubbie shared his number one mantra with me. Bearing in mind how unpredictable the Mr Smith can be it is no bad thing to leave him be as you have no idea what state he will be in on any given day. On that day he performed pretty well, but was mistaken by  security for a drunk audience member and almost didn't make it back onto stage after a short break. On other occasions he has disappeared during a gig and not reappeared at all, so that wasn't so bad on balance.

Of course if I was to meet an actual hero of mine like Maya Angelou I'd be completely tongue tied and incapable of speech. That's how it goes in real life. I was once asked by Shabana Azmi if I could lend her £5 to pay for a taxi as I waited outside the QE2 centre to go into a conference at which she was speaking. I did that thing where you move your mouth, but words don't come out and took out a fiver from my purse to give her. This does beg the question what journey in Westminster costs £5 that it wouldn't make more sense to actually walk ? Also, do I have a face that looks like it would proffer a fiver to a stranger (albeit a movie actress and now campaigner for women) or did she choose the most obvious person who'd help her ie. an asian woman ? No matter, I was happy to help her as I knew my Mum would be chuffed when I told her about it. An hour later when she sought me out to return the money I was equally eloquent, having spent the whole intervening period thinking "well there's a fiver I'm never going to see again." I was touched that she remembered me and that she made a point of giving the money back - it made me feel very warm towards her. So when I retell the story now it's with a little embellishment and we are now the best of mates. It's not like anyone will check is it ?

Unless you are reading this Ms Azmi, in which case thank you :o)

Lipstick, powder and paint.. and a shedload of shoes !!

In my dreams this is what I'd look like

I told Hubbie a few weeks back that I wanted to change my image. Being a polite chap who has learned the art of not saying stupid things to his wife when she has access to a range of things to throw (macbook, mug half full with tea, remotes, etc.) he just hummed and said, "Ok."

The phrase 'change of image' suggests I had an image to start with, which is not entirely accurate. What I have is an idea in my head of how I used to dress and do my hair and nails and a distant memory that I used to think about my appearance before I left the house. I've realised that I rarely look in the mirror and don't know what I look like when I go out. So imagine how surprised I was when today two young women complimented my appearance.

Of course this is post image change and it has been many months in the making. Firstly I decided to trade in my post pregnancy jeans with wide legs and stretchy waistbands for fitted styles with a panel that holds every flabby bit in and up. I got the ones that Gok Wan makes (natch !) and put them away while I thought about wearing them when I felt up to it. I also went through a process of collecting suitably stylish tops that would be wearable and washable (essential with a toddler who likes to throw things). It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I started to wear the slimmer jeans with massive baggy blouses over the top and then today with a fancier top than I've worn in ages.

Today I read this blog about nail varnish adding-bit-of-colour and it reminded me that I used to take time and effort over my appearance. I used to paint designs on my nails and do my hair differently every day. Well it was always a variation on plaits, but it was still different. I also used to co-ordinate my shoes, bag, belt, scarf, etc. It was a full time occupation choosing what to wear and how to look. I'm not suggesting I looked any better than I do now, but I made more effort.

In reality it's more like this 

In reality I was experimenting with different looks until I found what suited me. I wore pretty much only black for about 12 years so just moving onto colour was progress. It's also been a long road which has resulted in my having far more shoes than any person could ever reasonably need and so many bags that even when I give away ten of them it still looks like day 4 of the Next sale.

As well as an inordinate amount of accessories (I haven't even mentioned scarves or jewellery !) I own enough make up to pass for a WAG. This is all the more disturbing as I barely remember to put on lipstick and eyeliner (my minimum) let alone the mascaras, eyeshadows, glosses and powders that have quietly accumulated over the years.

The only time in recent months that I've looked like anything other than a suburban Mummy is when I went to a ball and got all dressed up nice for an evening out. Before I left I said bye to my boy and he looked at me with a sideways glance. He gave a shy smile and looked a bit puzzled. I realised that he never sees Mummy look less than dull and seeing me look nice was such a surprise to him that he automatically switched to his flirting face. He usually reserves that look for Lucy the librarian, Maureen at Sainsburys and today the girls who served us in Wimpy who all waved him off as we left as he blew them kisses.

So I'm not quite in the Victoria Beckham stakes when it comes to full on glam, but I'm making more effort to look less rubbish. If for no other reason than I like the idea that my son thinks his Mummy looks pretty enough to flirt with.

My childhood love of Michael Rosen is rekindled...

Like 18,882 other people I follow Michael Rosen on Twitter. You know him, the poet who wrote for children and performed on television and radio when you were little. The man who told us it was cool to read books and that we were not nerds at all.

Well, he has serious concerns about what is happening to education at the moment - and who can blame him - so I sent him an email this evening outlining a few of my thoughts. Imagine how flabbergasted I was when he replied less than half an hour later asking if he could include my comments on his blog !

He's put them on his blog and now I'm putting them on my blog (which is a curious form of cannibalism surely ?) Anyway, what a lovely man and still the most important advocate for children and reading this country has.

http://michaelrosenblog.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/letter-from-parent-of-2-year-old.html

If you want to follow him: http://michaelrosenblog.blogspot.com and http://www.michaelrosen.co.uk

When will I, will I be famous ?

You are probably aware that Andy Warhol is attributed with saying that in the future everyone will be famous for 15 minutes. Well it's the future now (compared with then) and we have the insidiousness of reality TV fame which enables the mentally ill to convince themselves that they are "living the dream." That dream appears to be to marry in haste (and often), have a lot of children, get divorced, develop an eating disorder and sell photos of each of these events to trashy magazines. I think I prefer my dreams to be a polar bear or an astronaut thanks.

I am not immune to the lure of fame, only in my experience it has been separate events where I have had a fleeting brush with fame. Well, strictly speaking with the famous as the closest I've ever been (or want to be) is where I've spotted a famous sort. So here, as usual in no particular order, is my 15 minutes of fame (spotting):

- Did I even mention the time Bobby Gillespie grinned at me on the escalator at Highbury and Islington station ? Well he did - he was on the down escalator and I was on the one going up. I stared at him in disbelief and he grinned at me all friendly like - what a lovely man.

- Pop Will Eat Itself walked past me as they were preparing for a gig at my university Students' Union. I knew it was them because of the hair, I don't recall the gig and I have no idea what they do now.

- Me and my friend Neil were in a pub in North London and we saw the woman from Echobelly who isn't Sonia (he recognised her I just stared and tried to work out how I knew her).

- Linda Robson from Birds of a Feather asked me if this was the platform for the London train at Reading station. I told her it was and that there was a train due in about ten minutes. She thanked me.

- I saw Jonathan Ross twice in one week - once at the LWT studios and the other time he and his family were sitting in the row behind me and my sisters at the Leicester Square Odeon watching the Lion King. I told people he was stalking me, but we all know that's just fanciful nonsense don't we ?

- I saw Xander from Buffy in Covent Garden only to find out a few days later that he is one of triplets so it might have been one of his brothers.

- I often see the woman who played Susan the receptionist of the motel where Alan Partridge lived in "I'm Alan Partridge."I think Barbara Durkin lives in Croydon - Ahaa !!

- I've also seen the actress who was the mother of Jan Francis in Just Good Friends (Sylvia Kay). I stopped let her cross the road in front of my car in Caterham on my way to a Zumba class one Saturday morning. I'm nice like that you know.

- I walked past Nadia from Big Brother on Upper Street - she was pouting and appeared to be waiting for a cab with shades on - it was not a sunny day.

- I saw Sean Pertwee with his son at the N1 centre on Upper Street - it shows great restraint on my part that I didn't just go over and lick him.

- Upper Street clearly is the place for spotting folk as I walked past film critic Kim Newman and Dave Gorman on the same day.

- I had a letter in the Guardian on Saturday once when I reported that I'd seen Jon Ronson on the King's Road with this son Joel. The letter was in his writing style - if you google it there may even be some record of it in the ether.

- I once saw Trinny and Susannah walking arm in arm on the King's Road which led me to wonder if they really do hang out together or if they were filming a programme.

- When we stopped at services on the M4 once me and my Mum saw the singer Paul Young - I had to explain to her who he was.

- I stopped for a cup of tea at the motorway services and spied at another table David Emmanuel - yes him who designed Diana's dress with his wife.

- I nearly bumped into Marc Almond on Tottenham Court Road (the YMCA end) - he looked very shiny.

So there it is - the roll call of fame that I've been in proximity to. The eagle-eyed will notice that it's not scientific, but as some of these encounters were so fleeting the sum total is probably around 15 minutes.

I am expecting a call from Hello any day now as I'm practically a celebrity in my own right now surely ?