Tuesday, February 02, 2010

after all that

It is with a heavy heart from whence I write.

The full gravity of the situation, has, 24 hours later, begun to sink its gnashers into my hypothalamus. Which, I think, is where humans process emotion. Don’t correct me if I’m wrong, because I don’t give a fuck either way.

Peas, the tragic and defeated heroine, throws, with lacklustre, an electrical appliance into the bath tub with her in reckless abandon. To the accompaniment of a clutch of violins.

The appliance would be a Defy. FYI. As it rhymes with deny. Which is coincidentally the word that defines my life story right now.

Let me explain. I won’t harp on, as it’s a sore topic. This weekend was meant to be my silver lining. Amongst my Departue Lounge living. I feel like Tom Hanks in the fucking Terminal right now.

Albeit.

I prioiritised family peace for Richard Hammond. I blew Hammond off. Again, never thought I’d say that sentence in my life, as I dangle the ghd dangerously above the bath, but there you have it.

I had family concerns, and couldn’t meet Hammond. I was meant to meet him after the show, he couldn’t make it, and then we reorganised for the next day when I couldn’t make it.

Am I a martyr? No, I am a solutions architect. I suggested to a mate that he dress up as Richard Hammond for a party, so then I can officially say I have met him.

But since he has met Hammond he said : ‘No I can’t go as someone I already know.’

Good one. Even if I do let the cord go, to a cataclysm of sparks and lavender bath bomb shrapnel.

(In turn, and as a true example of fatal comebacks, I suggested to my mate that he looks exactly like Bryan Adams. Was your favourite summer in 1969? Is your favourite name Ryan with a b in front of it? Do you know not what you do and do you want forgiveness? What age do you want to be until you die? Do love Canadian power ballads from the 90s?)

I was going to write Hammond a letter pretending he did meet me, as if I really was at the Top Gear post-production party at Sapphire in Camps Bay. [Getting an invite was a good shout I suppose]:

Dear Richard

So great to take body shots from your belly button last night. You were a such a card.


Then thought better of it, in case he was drinking Vitamin Water the whole night.

So, might as well write the real deal:

Richard my sweet,

I put on my finest red heels, a skirt, eyeliner, I peacocked myself up a storm. I outpeacocked everyone, save the bird in the shirt with ‘I Love Hammond’ on it, and when you said to the audience she was your favourite,’ I was insane with jealousy.

When you entered the Cage Of Death stunt, surrounded by maniacking French motorbike drivers with a thirst for blood, I didn’t want to look in case you [almost] died again.

The fact that I saw your physical self about, er, 100 metres away from a dizzy height, was, in itself an orgasmic experience. You are really a yummy yummy Brit. And I can’t believe the opportunity to meet you is lost.

Maybe after my immigration court battle, if all goes well, I’ll bump into you grabbing a coffee off Holland Park, with a newspaper stuffed under your fragrant armpit, and I’ll resist the urge to pounce on you like a fat kid on a tray of petit fours, but instead look so beautiful your eyes will start watering. We can talk about the weather like it’s a surprise that it’s raining, and the millions of ways one can get to Shepton Mallet from Church Stretton, really, I won’t mind.

Or maybe even I’ll invite you over for a pot of Earl, and you can advise me on the pitfalls of buying a 1960 Fiat 500 from Italy and driving it back up to England with my boyfriend. I am told I won’t pay road tax for such a vehicle in London, which has to be a bonus.

Stay amazing. I will try not to cry in the meantime.

If you’d like me to run your official fan club site, hi if you’re hiring.

Peas

Xxxxx

PS: I was Google Imaging your bad self to find a picture of you to whack up here. But got too depressed, so laughed it off.

PPS: I’m listening to Twin Peaks as I write this. It’s a catharctic thing. Not especially healthy, and it does remind me of pine trees, but it seems appropriate, given my mood.

PPPS: My horoscope in the latest Elle says I’m about to come into some money. That’s all very nice – to pay fees and such – but really all I want is a visa. So if you’re a Virgo [not you Hammond. You’re a Sagittarius.], but other Virgos, enjoy the splurge.

16 comments:

Monkigirl said...

Oh Peasy, put the GHD down! You'll need it in humid London. I'm only picking up bits and pieces about what you're trying to accomplish with your legal battle, but I'm sure that if it is meant to be, you will succeed. Keep your chin up! Loved the Hammond letter by the way, very poignant.

Peas on Toast said...

Hi Monki :) I really hope so - I have now hired a GENEALOGIST. Have you ever - a dude who is all savvy with document collection and whatnot. I should write my next book on this experience.

Ruby said...

sorry you missed the show...

You and my dad are precisely the same: humour is the only thing that keeps you alive in very trying times.

Keep going.


xox

Hard said...

I know your pain, Ms. Peas. The British are impossible to please for ancestral citizenship. I gave up years ago... All my grandparents were born there, served in the colonial service, and my parents who were born in the colonies have citizenship. These facts didn't help my cause, unfortunately.

In the end it was easier for me to get Italian EU citizenship by a weird array of matriarchal marriage descendants even though there isn't a drop of Italian blood in me as far as I know.

You're probably better off applying to be a foreign student. There seems to be boatloads of them happily living in the UK shirking immigration law.


I moved out of London, recently, after living there for two years. I couldn't stand for the place so I'd happily donate my EU status to you if I could, but alas... ;)

Peas on Toast said...

Hey Ruby
I didn't miss the show, I just met out on the chance of meeting Hammond as my cherry on the top perk :(

The show was great, but I was REALLY looking forward to Hammond :(

Oh well. The world still turns... ;)

Hard: All my grandparents were born there, served in the colonial service, and my parents who were born in the colonies have citizenship. These facts didn't help my cause, unfortunately. If you grandparents are born in the UK, then you get ancestry no matter what! What happened, why were you refused???

po said...

Aw Peas you poor girl! But priorities call, I spose.

Revolving Credit said...

Not sure if it helps, but due to last minute entanglements, I missed out on Sundays show and seeing as it was the last one here, had no further recourse.

Tell you what, I'll dress up as a Hamster if you dress up as a Bottle of Jagermeister.

That way you can profess your undying devotion while I repeatedly slam you back!

Deal??

Peas on Toast said...

Deal Rev!

Can you speak in a Brit accent though as well? ;)

Revolving Credit said...

Depends - how do you taste with Red Bull??

OK, now you've got me thinking about bodyshots - how'm I supposed to concentrate on work now??

Fluffy Pink Thing said...

Aw Peas, that's devastating! I've got a bit of a crush on him too, but as I've got ZERO chance of ever, EVER meeting him, I was hoping to live the heaven-sent experience vicariously through you.

(Yes, I know how sad that sounds.)

Hey, maybe it's like that saying goes... "if you love something, set it free blah blah blah". Though personally, I'd opt for the stalking option. Just saying.

Sadie said...

Well fuck me dead. That sucks donkey balls. I'm so sorry you didn't get to meet Hammond peas.

Now I'm depressed.

estellevisagie said...

Hi there, I don't know if you've looked into this before, but you could consider ditching the ancestry route and try the new points based system for highly skilled workers instead (http://www.ukba.homeoffice.gov.uk/workingintheuk/tier1/general/ and http://www.ukvisas.gov.uk/en/howtoapply/infs/inf21pbsgeneralmigrant).
If you get enough points, you qualify to enter the UK to then find any work you want/can (no sponsor required). Simple as. And you really, really (REALLY) don't need a lawyer for this. I self-navigated the UK visa thing for 10 years, so do ask if you need any help, I'm practically an expert now! (but really everything you need is on the government websites listed).

estellevisagie said...

Hmm, just noticed the links got a bit mashed up. Shout if you want them.

Peas on Toast said...

Hi Estelle

Thanks so much for your help. Yip I have looked at Tier 1, however I don't have a Master's Degree. And until the Migration Association convinces the government to change the system back to bachelor's degree. They are reviewing it at the moment, and MIGHT make this change in April. I'm hoping amongst all hope they do this.

They're reviewing how points are allocated, taking into account salary brackets/experience now.

Hell. Anyway thanks for your links will check them out anyway. xxx

週休 said...

你怎麼能經過一片海,而忘記它的藍?.........................

Flirty 30 said...

Peas - I would like to say something to make you feel better... but all I csn think is: H-A-M-M-O-N-D!!!! N-N-N-O-O-O!!!

Sorry you missed him!

XXX