Its Puckering Time!
Once again, time has run away with me ... not so much to spend eternity with me as to dump me in the middle of nowhere and run away into the night, laughing like a disturbed seaside attraction.
Okay, the disturbed laughter was actually me whilst spending every evening last week watching all twenty-four episodes of Boston Legal, season 3, so apologies to the neighbours for the late night cackling ... and apologies to any ladies out there that may end up suffering my interpretation of Alan Shore's approach to pulling!
Whilst they can all tell me where to disappear to, my colleague in the drama group isn't going to have much of a say as she has to kiss me in the next production. Poor soul.
Last week, we were psyching ourselves up for kissing for the first time, both as nervous as the other and both giggling like kids: I even made sure I had a shave on the day and had a packet of mints to hand, just in case. As it turned out, all that prep wasn't required as she had a migraine and had decided not to come.
A brief reprieve from the inevitable!
Today's rehearsal, we couldn't avoid it and after the tea break found ourselves doing the scene we should have done last week. Unfortunately, as I was completely unaware that we were going to do this piece, I hadn't shaved, had an instantly fuzzy mouth from the nerves and it wasn't until I got home that I discovered a spot on the side of my nose. I belonged more on the set of The Adams Family than an Agatha Christie adaptation: that's not the kind of memory you want to leave someone with, even if it is fake.
Okay, so you're probably wondering why I'm making such a fuss about a kiss? I mean, its not as if I haven't kissed before. At least, no-one beyond three years of my own age.
Well, I was disturbed to work out that when she was born ... I was in my third year at secondary school. You can't tell me that's not freaking her out!!
Okay, the disturbed laughter was actually me whilst spending every evening last week watching all twenty-four episodes of Boston Legal, season 3, so apologies to the neighbours for the late night cackling ... and apologies to any ladies out there that may end up suffering my interpretation of Alan Shore's approach to pulling!
Whilst they can all tell me where to disappear to, my colleague in the drama group isn't going to have much of a say as she has to kiss me in the next production. Poor soul.
Last week, we were psyching ourselves up for kissing for the first time, both as nervous as the other and both giggling like kids: I even made sure I had a shave on the day and had a packet of mints to hand, just in case. As it turned out, all that prep wasn't required as she had a migraine and had decided not to come.
A brief reprieve from the inevitable!
Today's rehearsal, we couldn't avoid it and after the tea break found ourselves doing the scene we should have done last week. Unfortunately, as I was completely unaware that we were going to do this piece, I hadn't shaved, had an instantly fuzzy mouth from the nerves and it wasn't until I got home that I discovered a spot on the side of my nose. I belonged more on the set of The Adams Family than an Agatha Christie adaptation: that's not the kind of memory you want to leave someone with, even if it is fake.
Okay, so you're probably wondering why I'm making such a fuss about a kiss? I mean, its not as if I haven't kissed before. At least, no-one beyond three years of my own age.
Well, I was disturbed to work out that when she was born ... I was in my third year at secondary school. You can't tell me that's not freaking her out!!
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