Things I like about living in Harpenden versus living in London - we were out at the gym today when the Post Office tried to deliver a package. They posted through their usual note which said that the item would be ready to collect after one hour. In London you have to wait at least a day, sometimes two. I love the fact that the man in the van basically just takes it back to the depot and then you can collect it.
OK, it might not sound like much, but I liked it.
God damn, marriage has made me soft. But I like that too.
It's been a fun, relaxed week of not having anything pressing to do and mainly being at home, which after the hectic stress of touring has been much appreciated. My lifestyle has become immediately extremely healthy - I've been exercising every day and keeping my aggregate calorie consumption at under 1700 per day and have been steadily losing weight. On a day like today where I worked hard at the gym for an hour it almost became difficult to eat all the calories I was allowed. I felt like I was eating like Mr Creosote, with a massive plate of pasta for lunch and a massive stir fry for dinner, but I still had over 600 calories to use up in the evening.
If you've read this blog for a while you'll know how often I go on a diet and how it usually starts well, but then drifts off after weeks (or sometimes months) - I am very unusual in this regard. Sometimes (like earlier this year) I feel like I am working hard at it but it has no effect, but this time there's a quiet determination behind it all. I thought the incentive of getting married would have spurred me on before, but that just added stress and pounds, but this time... this time is the time. I know I've said that numerous times (and maybe even this year), but those times I was wrong - this time is the time.
My wife cooked cupcakes this evening, which I think is part of the contract once you're married (the husband becomes impressed with rapid parcel collection times and the wife starts baking) and this instinct might have a negative effect on my diet if it becomes a daily occurrence. Dave Gorman discussed exactly this phenomenon in his latest show - also the number of tweets he got about punching above his weight in relative attractiveness to his wife, which I am getting a lot of as well from people who have seen our wedding pictures. I suppose it's OK if people let her know how much better looking than me she is, now that we're married and there is literally no way out. But she seems content enough about it all in spite of this disparity. The other day we went to see our bank manager, who discussed life assurance with us. If we take it up and either of us dies in the next eleven years, the other one gets an impressive lump sum. She seemed to think that she'd rather have me than the money, whereas I wasn't quite sure. I mean I like her and all that, but it was a couple of hundred grand. I am amazed more married people aren't killing the shit out of each other. Thank God she didn't choke on that carrot before we had signed up for this death lottery. But once we have, I am going to be feeding her a whole range of ungrated root vegetables.
After writing about the incident someone (Andy Bates) sent me a link to an app from the British Red Cross which explains what to do in emergency situations like this. It's probably wise to try and read it through beforehand, but there is a function to guide you through an emergency as it's happening - my wife would have loved that, if I had been on my iPhone as she was choking to death. But in spite of my hilarious jokes about wishing death on my new bride, I did have a look through to see what I should be doing if this happens again. And it turns out that it was more or less what I did do - even my attempt at the Heimlich Manouevre was pretty much on the button. And I realise that I actually probably did some good the other day, even though I felt useless and powerless. I think I might actually have saved her life. Which is a good thing to have so early in a marriage. When she's complaining about me picking my feet or farting in bed (eating all these vegetables might be good for me, but it's not too good for anyone else), I simply have to remind her that without me and my sharp blows to her back she would be six feet under now and she has to shut up.
And although she has almost certainly saved my life - because had I not met her and had she not seen some spark of something good within me, then I might well have killed myself through debauchery in the last four year - she didn't do it so dramatically, so it doesn't count. And I am not sure this new passion for baking isn't part of some long term goal to fatten me up to ensure that I peg it before the term of the life assurance is up.
But a couple of hundred grand is the least she deserves. I love her so much that I would go willingly if that's what she wanted. The idiot she is she prefers to have me than a pile of cash.
Life assurance is a funny business though. Obviously it's one based on fear, but it's actually just putting a massive bet on, against yourself. In essence we're being asked to wager £6000 (in monthly increments- quite a bit more if we want to add in the idea of serious illness too) to get £200,000 if either of us dies in the next 11 years (and all this, of course dependent on medicals to ascertain if there is any actual risk of that happening - so our bet could go up). The chances are neither of us will die in the next eleven years - the bank picks up our six grand. As long as only one in every fifty people who takes up the policy peg it in that time frame, the bank makes a nice profit. I don't know what the actual odds of one of us dying before 2023 are, but I reckon they might be longer than that. I wonder if I want to chuck £6000 away then I might want to try my luck at Ladbrokes rather than Natwest.
It might be a nicer system if you actually took out death assurance. You pay £30 a month, and if you both make it to eighty you get a massive pay out (I suppose that's sort of what a pension is, but I'd like to see a lottery win sized one off payment rather than a monthly income). I mean it'd be tough shit for the people who didn't make it that far, but there'd be a few delighted octogenarians blowing their winnings on coke and hookers.
I love gambling. It's nice there's this official and legal high risk gamble with thousands of pounds. My feeling is I'd rather keep the six grand, because I am definitely immortal. My wife is less sure. We'll see.
And another fantastic name added to the Leicester Square Theatre podcasts - on June 11th I will be joined by movie star Nick Frost. Do book ahead for these, the Minchin and Lee shows are already sold out and the Brooker one only had three tickets left last time I checked, so don't hang around. All dates are up at
The Leicester Square Theatre website and all tickets are a ridiculously cheap £12.50. One more guest to find for May 14th, but I think it will be another biggie, and still tickets available for Charlie Higson on May 21st and Graham Linehan on June 25th. Really looking forward to these. They will all go up online at the British Comedy Guide and iTunes for those of you who missed out or can't make it.
More info about that and everything else that I am up to in
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