You know how I sometimes take on too much and my life gets a bit hectic? I think I've outdone myself this week. I am just dashing from one thing to the next in such a flap that it's almost exhilarating and I almost forget to get tired.
I think this week might be the hardest one of the year, with a gig every night in a different part of the country, plus having to move all our stuff so the builders can destroy our home, plus having to pack the things we need for our move into our new temporary home out of London, plus lots of wedding things to do. This morning we went out to buy our wedding rings, a suitably Valentine's Day thing to do. I am hoping that there will never be a three month period in which I spend so much money on rings in my life again. I like rings and they're pretty and symbolic - but for symbols they're pretty pricey. Unless they are supposed to symbolise the expense of being married, in which case, carry on as you were, rings. I am certainly happy enough to be finally getting my own precious - I have never really worn a ring in my entire life (there might have been an early one from my first girlfriend, but it broke or got lost or I took it off because my friends mocked me - I genuinely forget) and this is an important one to have. I am happy to pay the money for it and the two rings that my fiancee gets out of this (how come she gets two and I only get one? Not fair!) But both from a personal happiness and financial point of view I just hope I don't have to do this again. One of the advantages of leaving marriage so late in life is that I hopefully will only be able to do it once. Ring fingers crossed!
And whilst I had always thought marriage is just a piece of paper which makes no difference to a relationship, I have been wrong. It really does make a difference. I liked the idea of us having these matching rings. It made me feel even closer to this foolish woman who wants to be with me for as long as we're breathing (and if I have my way, long after that, stuffed in a tableaux in the Tower of London). But if my teenage friends had turned up in the shop and started laughing at me for showing affection to a woman like some kind of gaylord then I might have felt differently. I think nearly all those idiotic twits are married themselves now. If only I had thought to mock their effeminate ring wearing and have my revenge. I will do it the next time I see them.
There's nothing like having a wedding ring on your finger to make you realise that you're going to get married. In fact this is the only time that you have a wedding ring on your finger and you're NOT married. There was still time to escape. But a) I didn't want to and b) the investment incurred in the buying of these rings made the concept of bailing out now financial suicide.
Secretly I really, really liked having a wedding ring on my finger. Don't tell my schoolfriends.
But there was also the matter of 16 Ferrero Rochers to buy. I wonder at which point I will break and fail to keep up my end of the bargain. My girlfriend offered me the get out clause of making 16 chocolates the upper limit, as long as in return for her leniency she was allowed to eat the chocolates. But I refused to make that deal. I think I have a few more years in me yet. Marriage is about nothing if it is not a competition in mutual misery where nobody wins. I will have to keep buying the chocolates and she will not be allowed to eat them. Neither of us will be happy. This is how it has always been and how will always be.
Fittingly my
Metro column about the smugness of Valentine's Day came out today. It seemed to go down pretty well with most people though one man po-facedly tweeted me to say, "St. Valentine was a real Christian who was martyred for protecting two Christians who were in love." How embarrassing. My keenly researched article was shown to be so inaccurate it was almost laughable. But not laughable. Meanwhile I was pleased to have got the word "meatus" into the nation's favourite free newspaper. Little things please little minds. But meatus is great because it sounds like it's harmless like "meatheads", but it isn't. It is very slightly rude. Ha ha ha.
Back home I struggled through some more admin before having to jump in the car (the sat nav started working after I reset it - the revolution is on hold) and head to Canterbury. Bad traffic turned this 90 minute drive into a frustratingly tiring three hours. I'd hoped to write my blog and maybe even my next Metro column before the gig, but I also had two interviews to do and the show started fifteen minutes earlier than usual so I had to write the majority of yesterday's blog in the interval of the show. Which shows how tight time was for me today.
It was a really cracking Valentine's Day show, with a real sense of jeopardy hanging in the air - had people done the right thing in bringing their dates here? I was able to get a laugh after various anti-romantic comments by simply saying "Happy Valentine's Day."
The staff here had been reading my blog, asking how they compared to the facilities at Exeter and being extra nice to me (but I could tell they were always nice anyway - they even handed out chocolate hearts to the audience). Again being made to feel welcome and wanted made all the difference. It certainly made me add the venue to the list of the places I want to return to. That's the way to do it theatre people.
I think they thought I was nice too. A lady at the front of house was amazed that I came out to sign programmes after the show and didn't have a team of people to help sell my DVDs. She told me about a famous actor who had a huge entourage with him, despite the fact that he didn't even sell that many tickets. I guess the niceness thing cuts both ways.
The journey home was actually easy and I didn't feel as tired as I should have and quite enjoyed it. I had 30 minutes to relax when I got home at midnight and watched an episode of Community with my ring twin before falling asleep at 1am, knowing I was doing two hours of phone interviews at 10am tomorrow.
What a day! Can't wait for St Skeletor's Day!
