Properly ill, not hungover ill.
A nasty little germ has climbed aboard and decided that if there were any spare fat on my body it would strip it off violently during the last 12 hours.I have a rotten headache, have only just got out of bed and it will not be up for long.
I’m missing TEDxEQCHCH. I’ve given away my ticket.
And out of all of that whinging, the thing that shines through is what lovely young men I share my life with. Chris (he doesn’t read my blogs and if you know him don’t tell him I’m writing about him) has made me tea, went to the shop and brought me a fruju, toasted hot cross buns when I decided the chance of them staying internalised was sufficient to warrant the risk, and has just watched a Susan Sells episode on Youtube to humour me. Nick’s at his father’s house otherwise he’d be looking after me too.
I love my kids. They have such different personalities, but their fundamental nature is the same. They’re both compassionate, they care, they’re intelligent, they’re funny – what more could a mum ask for?
If they’d been at yesterday’s filming at CTV we would still be rolling on the floor sobbing together.
There’s a stage term, “corpsing”. You don’t see it on tv or film except in blooper reels because it’s always edited out (ha! except in CTV’s case perhaps) but occasionally at the theatre you’ll see an actor get the giggles. Corpsing.It’s when they drop out of character, lose it completely, laugh uncontrollably. It’s an actor’s worst nightmare. Not something I ever did on live TV – thankfully we were recording next Friday’s show or it would have been just awful.
Donna Maree from Carpet Court brought in a carpet range to show the world. Great carpet – lovely product. Good value, nice feel. Soft, thick, rich – I ran my hands through it. For about a nano second. Then I laughed so hard the makeup lady was called, tears pouring down my face. This entirely professional behaviour lasted a good five minutes, the crew joining in.
Whoever the 25 year old wunderkind in the USA was who dreamt up “Lagina Court” (yup) as a name for carpet – I want to met that person. I want to find out how they got that name (yup – you say it just like you’d say …. the other word ….) past their marketing department.
We sobbed. We leaned. We gasped for breath. I found it almost impossible to touch the wretched stuff. Every time I tried, there’d be a snigger somewhere and off I’d go again. Poor Donna Maree. Thankfully her sense of silly matches mine. That episode screens on Friday the 27th (Monday the 30th on Maori TV). Hopefully the blooper tape will be in the Xmas showreel, and not go out unedited as the episode of May 17th did! (On Youtube, go to the end of the Temple Park Manor segment at about 21.30 in and realise this is what actually aired. It’s not a blooper tape. This is the real deal. Whoops!
The station is starting to feel like it’s real now. People are still very thin on the ground, and things turn so quickly back to the events of the 22nd. It’s very healthy but quite shocking too. One minute you’ll be laughing in the staff room, someone will say “um – did you see the episode we screened on Tuesday – the way we screened it?” and then you’ll watch and the whole room is howling with laughter. Then someone else will come in and say “have you seen that awful picture they’ve just released? It’s on the back of a magazine” and the room stops. Or we’ll be talking about the show, and someone will say “Do you remember when Jo …” and we’ll laugh, as we should, but then things turn to the carpark and getting jacks out of cars through broken windows so the building can be lifted in an effort to find people that nobody ever wanted lost.
Maybe it’s not a tummy bug. Maybe it’s a migraine. A bit of stress perhaps – there’s certainly been plenty of it this week, what with Wellington and some home things and looking forward to TED – sometimes our bodies have wonderful clever ways of telling us to slow down and take some time out, spend some hours with the kids we love more than life itself, the people far and near we wish we could be with more than we are able to.
Time to spend with the dog who decided about an hour ago that if it was good enough for Mummy to be in bed, she would be too. She jumped on (bad dog) licked my nose, sprinted off the other side and fled into the sunshine.
Fang the cat has always been my wellness indicator. She is aloof except when I’m not well. Last night she stayed with me in the bathroom for the whole four hours, looking fascinated to see her human behaving in such an undignified fashion. It’s nearly 3 in the afternoon on a beautiful sunny day. I might go back to bed now and wait for her company. I give it 5 minutes.
Her fur is so soft. Even softer than Donna Maree’s carpet. (Mustn’t put those two things together in my mind. Fangy takes herself very seriously and I’d hate her to think I was laughing at her, not with her.)