the resurrection (i am)

hi guys :^)

and welcome back. 

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are you sitting comfortably? okay. let's begin, again.

let me tell you a story about a time most recently where i was, for the day, markedly famous! i'm sure i'll get onto the important stuff later...

let me procrastinate right now okay :) okay :) 

okay guys here we go... r u ready...

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it was cold in the studio; that 6am feeling of light air and large headache. something about being studied by an audience makes me feel the need to dress overtly feminine, i don't know. i prefer it when i wear trousers, personally, but the little niggles in my mind say i don't look good. so i wore this long black skirt that accentuates my waist while ignoring my arse- white blouse on top thats light and flowy and tucked in. my hair was relatively middling length then and black, just past my shoulders. light makeup, just mascara really. 

there's this vile colouring of red that's just so unpleasent and unnatural it's rarely chosen for clothing, only solely by insipid brands for advertisements, but it saturated the sofa that itched my underside. of course, my situation of finding my little fragile self in the studio was completely auspicious and borderline miraculous (how often do you get to be on the tele?!), but it had gotten to the point whereby the sweat and general clam building up on my palms was just making me nauseous. i tucked my hands under my thighs and rocked back and forth, trying to encourage the moisture onto the seat below me which was so obviously not built for comfort. 

weather was before me. i'd never seen a weather man strut his stuff in real life before- did you guys know it's just a green screen? and it's super-imposed like post-production? because i did, i found out in theatre school when i was like 12. and then i completely forgot for like almost 10 years and had that cracking memory return to me sat on the Points West sofa by Ian Fergusson as he told us there'd be an easterly breeze around noon. the air con was fucking rambling on i just know it, i was covered in goosebumps- maybe, to be fair, it could've been the nerves. i googled Ian after the show and found out he specialises in sharks. cool! i love people's little niches. mm.

well then i knew my section was coming up. i'd been sat beside David Garmston for about 20 minutes, patiently waiting for my chance to shine, my chance to impress the whole damned BBC crew (yeah i know we really should defund the BBC and not pay our licenses and such but how could i pass up the opportunity to appear on the evening news? even if it is just the South West offshoot...). i watched David reel off lines fed to him through the teleprompter- not a word wrong, what a natural!- and then he lifted his A4 interview plan up with his little pre-prepared questions. it was littered with scribbles which shone through the underside, barely enough for me to see his corrections. but i did, and i was endeered. he had such a lovely warm presence.

i was introduced as "Daisy Leechelle, writer and keys player." apparently, i recently made my Bristol debut of original lyrics within a single for Treemask, and have achieved a plethora of other fantastic and significant things in recent times. i thanked David.

"yeah it's been a grand year actually, working on so much with the band and really just harnessing my creative skills..." i didn't know what i was saying guys genuinely i must've just blacked out.

"yes brilliant work, and such talent in one so young. would you care to share with us your most proud accomplishment of this last year?"

oh shit uh

"well David, there've just been so many!" i laughed and he reciprocated it with a chuckle, "it's terribly hard to choose from" i hoped he'd drop it and crack on with his little probing list. he didn't.

"ah! but if you had to pick just one?" i remember thinking oh dear god David haha lets move on shall we?  but the truth is, nothing was coming to me. well there was nothing to chose from was there? i started fidgeting and i just knew i would've lost viewers if we'd been live. silence in the studio. 

"that's okay, Daisy" he steered away, sensed my unease, "how about you tell us about your return to Weston-super-Mare? mustve been a lovely time back home after your years in Bristol?" dude?? how he knew so much about my personal life, looking back, i cannot fathom. "investigative journalists" i thought to myself. just answer, daisy.

"well i mean yeah the three months i had of working a dead end insurance job answering phones and having my toilet breaks monitored was just such a cleansing time for me!" i was just begging he ride off of my satire. alas.

"oh wonderful! a restful time then?" yeah David actually having mum get ill again was absolutely brilliant and just did wonders for my skin. 

"Weston is so much quieter than Bristol, and that's something i definitely miss now i'm back" saved it.

"where's your ring?" what the fuck

"im sorry?"

"your engagement ring?" his white hair was almost reflecting the studio lights into my eyes, and i'm pretty sure i was coming up on vomit. "why aren't you wearing it?"

"oh well i mean um"

"can you tell us more about your more recent gigs? you seem to be gaining some traction!" wait what? did he say that?

"oh haha yeah! i mean, people have been really kind to us and the boys have all worked so hard, i always feel like the weak link, you know? and tom's been writing so much recently for something new-"

"do you think you'll ever be able to hold a man down? i mean, even recently you've failed so miserably on that front and for no real reason? is it lack of faith?"

David. fucking David.

"i don't know David im really here to talk more about my work..."

"haha of course Daisy!" still jovial and polite, as if nothing had happened? it was the strangest thing, the way his character sort of sifted in and out. my skirt felt heavy. heavy and grey. wait, wasn't it black? "but you haven't done much of that have you?"

"im sorry, i don't-"

"do you think your degree was a complete waste of time now you're back in your old waitress job?"

"oh i wouldn't say-"

"would you say that your feelings towards women in a sexual context often cause problematic thought processes for you in day to day life?"

"now, hold on a minute-"

"is your reasoning for bringing back this old blog legitimate in terms of being an outlet for grief and other troubling emotions? or is it just another grapple for attention?"

"David, please-" his face was different. he was different. i don't remember-

to be honest, i don't remember any of it. didnt happen. all bollocks. would've been brilliant though, being on Points West.

welcome back everyone. sorry for the absence. why kill a good thing, mm?