'The Paparazzie? - cheap shots'

Celebrities who whine they can't cope with the paparazi waiting for them may have a point- the problem is most people can't understand what the problem is because they have never witnessed the paparazzi at work first hand.

Why is it a problem- quite simply when thirty photographers are stood around you snapping photos at the same time, it IS intimidating.

Let me tell you a story. This week I had my own experience of being papped and it left me shaken up and uncomfortable it was all in pursuit of getting a photo.

I work with a certain A list female celebrity (her mum is a music talent show judge)and had finished a shift at the BBC. As we waited around in reception we realised there were a lot of paps outside hanging around for a shot- more than usual.

It was dark and late at night and most of us just wanted to get off home. As the said celebrity walked out the building they all started snapping like mad and formed a circle as she stepped out into the road.

Stood on the fringes of the circle I was about to get into my cab, but I could see she was panicking and saying she wanted to go back indoors.

Instead of sneering like I would of done normally I felt massively annoyed that they had effectively snared her like a blinded rabbit and asked her if she wanted me to show her to the car.

Show her ?! I hear you say- trust me, 30 cameras going off is blinding- YOU CANNOT see a thing. As I led her to the car I felt equally exposed, ridiculed and self loathing quite frankly it was horrible.I saw our picture in the london free papers the next day- it was about 4cms by cms- all that for one shot of her leaving work- pathetic!

Now I see why celebrities take media organisations to court for invasion of privacy, why celebrities hit out at their cameras and why they wear sunglasses- its not a nice feeling.

We dont have a privacy law at the moment- legally privacy falls under confidentiality, but I would say its high time the paparazzi and glossy cheap celeb mags were reined in a bit.

I hate my job

If you hate your job and spend everyday at work wishing you were someone else then this is the blog for you.

Why do I understand and why do I care about you and your experiences?

My best friend and I both spent over two years in jobs we hated but for some reason couldnt get out of. She worked at a prison and I worked at an architects, both of us in jobs which were so mind numbing, counting paperclips seemed more interesting.

While we were in the jobs we kept a log of our boredom in the emails we wrote to each other and we have kept them- so now the diaries of dread are going to be added to my blog for you to enjoy reading in your frustrated mental cage that we call work.

They will be added soon.

If you want to leave a comment telling me why you hate your job- I want to know - where do you work, why do you hate it and what do your colleagues do that irritate you so mcuh? x

New year new me

I have a new hair cut.

It is a new year and I have decided it is time for a new change and am going to be faithful to my blog. this could be the first entry you read, therefore, be patient. Good things will appear on my blog soon.

Police without Radios

Ive just checked out todays' BBC report on the Jean Charles Case which is going on at present.

Worryingly one of the features of the failings of the met which has come out is that Police Radios dont work on the tube, yet this was a known operational problem following the 1987 Kings Cross Blaze.

Two serious implications come out of this a) police on the tube in another situation, may have to make a decision in future which could have the same outcome as the de menezes case.

B) what about the British Transport Police? I am making an assumption they have radios- if not, how do they communicate and if they are in a problematic situation, what would they do without the support of colleagues on their way?

Perhaps masts for mobile equipment on the tube is not such a bad idea afterall.

Radcliffe Smashes it

A short entry from me to say Radcliffe literally smashed it.

The woman beat her longstanding opponent in the New York Marathon by a credible 23 seconds - a race she had hoped to win for a long time, but what amazed me was that she went training intensively whilst pregnant.

Well done Radcliffe.

However it does seem to me to be unlikely that she will be able to compete in the 2012 olympics at 38 as looking at other athletes a lot of them retire by this point.

Maybe Im wrong, but I think that time will take its toll on the body by then and that her involvment will be more on the personality front than the track.

I know where 'Britishness' lives

Has anyone ever been to Frinton On Sea?

Well if you want to know what England was like fifty years ago, get yourself an £18 return from London Liverpool street and jump onto a train to a place turned back in time.

To get there, you speed through all the essex wonders- romford, chelmsford and witham before the scenes outside change to rural, villagey type places next to the railway tracks until you reach marshey areas with run down mills and desolate single platform stations.

Once you get to Frinton you hit the main high street which leads down to the seafront and like lots of old seaside towns such as Bexhill on sea you feel like its the 1950's.

Why?

Because there are no ethnic faces, no immigrants, no chav boy racers, no chain massive superstores, unique one off shops, charity shops by the dozen and clothes shops especially for old people. It is a place untouched by time.

True to it's charm, one of the nice touches of the town is that a lot of the shops sell local fruits, veg, meats and are very traditional in their interior layout its almost like being in a museum of time, but for real.

On the downside Im told that a lot of the people are not comfortable with foreign faces moving in and foster attitudes the BNP would lap up.

However when there are discussions about what it means to look for Britishnees I'd say that Frinton On Sea is a good starting point, as Im sure there are a lot of places around the country like Frinton which hold onto the old way of living, the Queen's England even if some of the political opinions are a little pre-historic.

Birdseye view by a hostess

Thursday night turned out to be an unusual one for me, as I played a 'hostess' for the first time at a Charity get together in Victoria.

My role was essentially to be a 'paid presence'- Ie stand there for 5 hours not doing alot but looking alert- but not to be sniffed at.

The pay was good, but what was even better, was the insight into how Londons' wealthiest men and women spend their week nights out entrtaining themselves.

The affair was attended by mainly people of 35+, wearing not particularly nice clothes in the royal Horticultural Hall which had been stylishly set out with white drapes and neon lights. Most of the people looked like they were from another world in which overdrafts dont exist, they had perfect teeth in place by the age of ten and just spend money on any whim.

They were not the new, celebrity rich- these people represent the very upper escashalions of londons traditional class structure, with names like those who sailed first class on the Titanic- they had a wealth which I could not put my finger on- something like the people who appear in Harpers and Queen.

Once the guests had all daintily sipped their champagne and checked each other out, to find their closest rich mates- they were ushered into the banqueting area to enjoy the 'entertainments' of 2 acrobatic performers wearing lycra all in one body suits, writhing through hoops suspended in the ceiling.

Having spent a summer working in a Spanish nightclub with circus acts like this, it wasnt a surprise to me, however, the elite farts politely watched on - intrigued by the nubile spectacle before them before tucking into dinner.

The best bit of the entire night was the auction in which two tables of female egos competed for 'garden consultations'and celebrity chef cooking sessions. What I couldnt believe was that despite, the age of the women and the assumed education they have probably had they were all spending their old husbands money.

I was fascinated by the way they would ask if it was ok to go above 2 grand and the men would wave them on as though it was tuppence.

Call me cynical but it was like peering into another world- although generous in shelling out for a good cause I didnt like the ease at which they chucked money around to outdo each other.

Def a good night as the irony was that I got all the perks of being there, through the entertainment and food wihtout having to sit on a table of balding, colgate teethed plonkers.