Slipping on the Dancefloor
I think I should start a new blog entitled ADVENTURES OF A MEDIA MINX. At my age it really shouldn't be allowed, or should I say ALOUD it shouldn't be....
Last night I went to see - with THE BARRY - Leslie Jordan in MY TRIP DOWN THE PINK CARPET.
I have never been in the middle of so many gay men in my life. I knew pretty much half of them.
Apart from the aftershave the after show party was too much fun for an old bird like me. I slipped on the dance floor, tore my blouse on the door knob and smudged my mascara with my forgetful fingers. All in all a disgraceful night I am delighted to say.
The show is Leslie, very skillfully, talking about his journey from small town Southern Baptist boy to the celebrity he is today and his arrival at sobriety and authenticity. I cried, Barry cried, the guys in front, behind and by the side of me cried. It's a show that speaks about acceptance.
The after show party was DEEEEVINE. Ridiculous camposity at The Cafe de Paris. Pink cocktails and canapes - 2 inch hamburgers and three inch hog dogs. Not to mention the tiniest morsals of mash and sausages all served up by surly young things who had obviously been told not to make any kind of conversation. Conversating was Out dahling...
I met so many lovely people and ended up dancing wildly with a journalist from HELLO magazine and a hairdresser from Austria who wanted to do my hair. Given the history of Austria and my least favourite dictator I think I'll stick with Dan in Soho.
Barry bought me so many cocktails - he made a deal with the Polish barman - that my journey home passed me by. My time space relationship went out of the window. I nearly took £600 out of the hole in the wall pressing all the wrong buttons. Gods Gift, as usual received me with the welcoming arms of a sober northerner who had just given of his Mr. Turner in Hackerknee
It was a very early start this morning over to Hertforshire to take my mother for her psychological review.
She was ready, we arrived on time but the poor Social Server,who was seeing us, was twitchy with nerves. Having given my autograph to the self confessed inappropriate autograph hunter we went upstairs in the lift.
The shaking Councillor confessed that - well to be honest she didn't confess anything - I put two and two together and realised that the right hand didn't know what the left hand was doing that nobody could see the wood for the trees and that we had been on a wild goose chase with several red herrings only to be led up various other cliches. Five minutes later I removed my mother, the husband and myself form a deeply embarrassing moment. The poor social server wanted to give my mother an assessment by way of making our trip worthwhile. It felt like the dentist offering to extract a tooth just because we had turned up.
I shook her hand and noticed that her shoes reflected her job. Utilitarian and in need of repair. Who to blame? Budget Cuts? Inefficiency? I wonder what the coalition wallers would do if they found their mother in the same situation. My heart goes out to every single person in the NHS who is trying to offer a real service.
We walked to the end of The Village and had fresh coffee and bagels. Then my brother beeped us and collected my ma and took her home in his Jeep.
Gods Gift drove us to Farringdon, parked and unloaded a suitcase, a box and a bag of VHS's - my lifes work - which The Barry is transferring to dvd's.
Then get this, I was taken to lunch on a moored boat somewhere on the thames. They might as well have blindfolded me since I could'nt get you there. We had a delicious lunch with a lovely couple and a baby and still managed to talk shop. I had a huge glass of fizzy water and angosturas bitters to settle the stomach which was seasick by the time we got to the Manchego sheese.
Into the office for a final hug and off I went on the tube.
Hot and packed. Out at Victoria, only one escalator working. Who is Boris going to blame for that? The 170 to the flat. A quick hug with the old man then off he went to The Arcola for his perf. I am now attired in my Friday night apparal, well my every night apparel, my pj's, sippers, vest and nowt else.
Tonight's gonna be a goodnight as I am doing nothing but writing and Graham Norton. I LOVE HIM.
Tomorrow I am MC'ing a charity do in Richmond.
I'm knackered just thinking about it. Then Sunday's show with you, Bill Ward and me.
Enjoy your Friday Night.
Jeni Barnett tells of her scrumptious time at Good Food Live in her first audiobook! Download NOW from iTunes
lovely post as usual,so agree with you re Graham Norton,am in the States but manage to watch on i player,love it!
Loved your trip down the pink carpet jeni.It was fantastic to imagine all the glitz. Keep it up Jeni. You make my day.
Sounds like you had a fantastic night at Leslie Jordan in MY TRIP DOWN THE PINK CARPET - in relation to gay men - I think in gay world you are an icon and it comes down to how natural you are - if your nature could be bottled and sold you would be a millionaire and Jim could retire - good idea or not ?
I think for Gay Pride this year we get you on a float all done up in your finery and lead the parade - personally think you will stop the traffic but who cares, you are the one ad only Jeni Barnet !