Sunday 28th August 2011 1.15am

I'm bored. So I write.

My boyfriend tells me I should find inspiration in the countryside, in the trees. Maybe it's my country upbringing, maybe it's my cold heart, but I don't find this life inspirational. People are my inspiration. The breath of life, the living creature amongst the still.

Still. Still life. Work, eat, sleep.

No. Just, no.

Ever since I could remember, I wanted nothing more than to get to London and let my life begin. The people, the excitement, the 'something-to-do-no-matter-what-the-time' mentality.

I am the first to sit back and admire the world, the natural beauty of our universe. Why, just now I stopped my friends and made them admire the stars. Look at those stars. You don't see those stars in London. Ten stars per postage stamp in your sight. Stars. Wow. And then....

Well. Jeez. Sometimes I admire this country life. Sometimes I pity. Neither are right. I try to picture this situation with my loved one in my arms. I think the bliss would be blissful, for a short while. It's like a holiday. Everybody loves to relax, but 4 weeks later you want a challenge (or you should).

Maybe that's why country folk (generally) get settled and have children earlier. Who knows.

My brother has learning difficulties. He has really struggled his whole life. About a month ago he came to visit me in London for the first time, alone. The more I talked to him, the more I realised, you are so lucky. No, it's not lucky to have these problems, these issues. But my GOD, he knows what he wants to do in life. He knows he has to work with cars, he has an ambition, a target, a place he has to get to. I have always been the same. Ok, I didn't really struggle in school (apart from severe laziness in anything that didnt fulfill me) but at least I always knew what I wanted. My Mum remembers me, at a very young age, telling her that I was going to move to London and be an actress. How lucky. How remarkable to always know what you wanted. I honestly can't imagine not really knowing.

I really hope my best friend doesn't hate me for writing this, but I have always admired her for her intelligence, her supreme authority and wiseness, and yet I feel she has not found her calling. I hope she NOW has, as the career she now pursues seems to be something that she cares about and wishes to pursue deeply. But it always tore me up how she was the most deep, interesting, phenomenal person I knew, and yet she couldn't quite find what she wanted to do in life. All I want/wanted was for her to be happy. Content. Serene. Excited.

I hope she's found it. She is my rock. And all I want is for her to be happy. And this won't be the last time. I hope that our friendship will blossom throughout our lives, and therefore we shall face bigger struggles together than 'what job should I do'. We will face, marriage, children, cancer, dying parents, betraying friends, big decisions.....possibly. And if these things to happen to us, I want us to deal with them together. Friends are for life, not just for christmas. You can divorce your partners. You choose your friends, not your family.

bla bla bla. Thoughts of a random 23 year old in the middle of the countryside, somewhere, some way off, mean nothing, to most. But someday, someone will read my words and be moved. For whatever reason. Even if it just makes them pick up their phone and ring that best friend, that brother.

Goodnight. Choose wisely.

Wednesday 24th August 2011 11.27am

I've been a busy girl. Where to start?

Well, 'Little Shop of Horrors' opened. I was terrified. It's been quite an eye opener for me, this project. For one, it's been a little while since I've had such a big challenge and it also happens to be the biggest job of my career so far. For two, working in a new way with a new director has been interesting. The show is a brilliant success and everything has worked out but it's interesting to come into contact with people that work in different ways. My weak point in acting has often been my movement. My (sometimes in the past) low body confidence has often caused me to feel insecure with movement choices when creating a character and so in this show when faced with a directer whose main skill is movement, I am faced with a challenge. I am a thinker. When I say thinker, I don't think I am one of those stuck-in-a-book actors, but I do like to make sure that everything, every movement, every joke comes from truth. Something which is sometimes hard to find in musical theatre.

But, the show is open, and I am learning something new every day. The cast are fabulous and I'm looking forward to settling into our short run now that rehearsals are over. Press night tomorrow. Fingers crossed for more lovely reviews.

Talking of low body confidence - this has been something that has had me torn up inside for years and years and I've finally decided to do something about it. No, I'm not seeing a shrink or seeing a hypnotist (all of these things I have considered), I am taking up Burlesque classes. And I am terrified. Ok so I've always been an impulsive person. But this sudden impulse requires me to stand on stage at Madame Jojo's in little more than knickers and some stickers on my boobs. Hmm. I am going to the classes with Tigz Rice (Burlesque photographer extraordinaire) and she is looking for increased body confidence too. There's no doubt about it, I will be eating a lot better and working out more in the build up to this momentus event BUT won't it be wonderful to stand on stage and feel beautiful and liberated? I hope so, Gok Wan seems to believe in this method so why can't I? If in december you find me locked away under a mountain of dorito bags you can guess it probably didn't go to plan......

It was my birthday yesterday. And what a lovely birthday it was. Cocktails with friends, dirty kebab, breakfast in bed, morning napping, new ipod and babiliss hair rollers (yes!), posh nosh lunch at the top of the oxo towere with my beloved, ring shopping (although I'm yet to pick the right one) and 'Betwixt' at Trafalgar Studios (brilliantly bizarre - although slightly upset that Ellen Greene had left the cast and I had not realised). 23. Don't think I can claim to be the baby anymore. Although, God bless those friends that will always be ten years older - you know who you are - (you will always be my favorites).

This morning I had my first meeting with Miles, the director and choreographer of our new Burlesque/Follies/Revue/Show/Spectacular at Proud Cabaret. Not much to report, lots of idea being thrown around - all of which I like. Let's just say, Madonna better watch out. Coco's going VOGUE.

Summer is quickly fading and christmas seems to be approaching quicker than is humanly possible. But this year I don't mind. If my luck carries on the way it's been going I'm happy for life to trundle along at whatever pace it wants. Love, work, family, friends. Yep, things are pretty peachy. (Ok, some sunshine would be nice but we can't have it all).

Saturday 6th August 2011 8.30pm

I leave for Leicestershire on Monday morning. Yep. Off to Leicestershire to play Audrey in "Little Shop of Horrors" for the summer. I am so very excited but so very scared that it will be over before I have time to blink. I keep standing outside of myself in rehearsals and take it all in. Everyone else is so calm, collected, not bothered etc. I guess to them it's just another job. But I am loving every moment. I had to stop myself from shedding a little tear. (wuss).

I am so ruddy ambitious, I do wonder if I will ever stop getting so excited when things actually happen. I'm always on a journey, always trying to get somewhere. But I'm not really sure where that somewhere is. And that's fine, right now anyways. But do you ever worry that you'll never be content? I guess the sky's the limit so why stop just as you reach the stars?

As a kid I always wanted to be famous. I don't have that need anymore. In fact, it was a sad day last year when I realized at the age of 21 I was probably too old to be a popstar. Now, I think I could take it or leave it. I don't think fame would do me any good as a person. But it would be lovely to be respected for your art, to be able to pick and choose roles, songs, red carpet dresses!

I know I wasn't put on this earth to be ordinary. And I've known that from the moment I could think. But my life isn't ordinary. And that's the main reason I started writing these blogs. So this ridiculously insane life of mine could be documented in some way. For me to read when I'm old and sat in a rocking chair. For my grandchildren to read and see that their Gran used to be hard working and talented.

I CANNOT IMAGINE doing a 'normal' job. I just don't have it in me. Sometimes I wish I did. Sometimes I envy those people that seem so content with their routine, their regularity, their desk, their suits, their home-by-five-dinner-on-the-table-at-six. But nope. I couldn't do it. I go from job to job, theatre to theatre, club to club, and I wouldn't change it for the world. And I don't want it to change either.

I do know (despite my mother insisting that I'm a 'career girl'), that all this would be nothing without love. I wish I could convince myself of that when I'm out of work!!

Last Monday, most of my old class of friends from Central went out for drinks in memory of Professor Bruce Kirle (the most inspirational man that ever graced my life AND the man who gave me my ticket into this crazy career by unleashing me on Central). We sat, and we talked, and we remembered. And my best friend Katy looked around the table at our friends, then turned to me and said : "I thank him for a lot of things, but mostly I thank him for bringing us together".

A few nights ago, my boyfriend and I walked arm in arm and he said : "Life without family is nothing. Family is all there is".

I remember Bruce saying: "What good are the good things in life, if you have no one to share it with?"

No good, no good at all.

Saturday 23rd July 3.09am

Feminisation.

I don't think it's a word. But it should be. Feminisation. You know that moment where a man you work with calls you 'Honey' or 'Darling'? You think it's all well and good until you think about it properly, and you think, 'hold on, you didn't call HIM darling, or her honey'....why do I deserve a pet name and they don't? Why is it, because of my feminine assets, I have to be simmered down with a 'honey' or a 'darling'? Why don't you just ask me to join you in the other room like the rest of the 'guys'?

Ok, I'll be the first to admit that when a dreamy prince calls me darling I may melt at his call, BUT, within a professional context, if you are male (and I do mean straight OR gay), why am I darling? why am I your honey?

In all honesty, I am not your honey. I am a professional. A professional woman that has studied hard at an art form she respects. Yes, I realise within this industry we are all 'lovies' and 'darlings' but it's when it is reduced down to a nickname for the only blonde in the cast I begin to take notice. "Oh, Sam, Simon, Robert, we are in the next room. Joanna honey, sweety, would you care to join us also?". Yes, I would care to join you, just like Sam, Simon & Robert, because it is my job, and just because I have a pair of tits and a vagina does not mean you need to be nicer about asking me. My female form does not give you reason to treat me like I am delicate. I, within my life, will deal with pain beyond your non-vagina imagination.

Men, I like you, but this pussy-footing has to end. You know those women that want you to ballet dance around them?

Those women will be the death of you.

Those women have double standards.

Any decent woman today realises the death of petty nicknames is imminent and the blaspheme they place on our 'race' should be extinct.

I call to you women: Next time someone calls you honey, ask yourself why? Ask HIM why. Why is it you must be referred to as a sugary sweet substance when other gentleman may proceed in their job without a comment? Why is it that our tits (yes, tits), something that we are born with, something that is natural, something that is part of our unchangeable form, must dictate passers' by opinions? Bosses' opinions? Builders' opinions?

I have rather large-ish boobs. And a day won't pass without a comment or a wolf whistle.

Imagine if men had to display their penises for all to see. All hours of the day. First thing in the morning, after a hot bath, after a cold shower, after an all night session. Imagine if their sexual assets were constantly a topic of conversation. They walk past you in the street and you have the right, the audacity to comment on size or form (and what that makes you as a person).

Anyway, enough. Goodnight.

Sunday 17th July 2011 11.56pm

So. Had my last night at Proud Cabaret last saturday. Got a little bit teary. It really is a shame to think that it may be the last time all us girls (and some boys) get to work there all together. But hey ho, we move on, things change. Such is the way of life. I really grew at Proud Cabaret. Starting off as an occasional Saturday night singer for the Tassel Club and slowly advancing into a compere (something I never thought I could do, nor want to do). I loved that the show was mine to play with. There's no secret, acting is my first love, and I love having someone else's guidance with direction but it was terribly exciting to do what I wanted to do, to make creative decisions on songs I thought would work etc. I do wish to be a director one day, but at the moment I think I have my fingers in enough pies as it is!

But yes, quite sad to leave. I really enjoyed hosting by the end. It's exciting and challenging to have the audience in your grip and to be the link between the performers and them. And my gosh I will miss those performers. What a welcoming group they have been.

After my last performance there was (of course) a VAST amount of alcohol consumed. Which is to be expected. Only problem was, I hadn't packed for my trip to Malta. And I left at 6am that morning. After a trip to Maccy D's (too much cheese) and an hour 'nap' (drunken stupor), I arose and "packed" and hopped in my cab feeling like a badger's behind. (Let's just say on arrival to Malta my outfit choices were interesting).

I was in Malta with 2 drama school chums and a friend of a friend. I have never been on a 'girls holiday' before and so was looking forward to the time out immensely. I have never been a girl's girl. Ever. No offence ladies, but I do tend to get drowned in some typical female conversation. (Hence, women I find inspirational go way way up on a pedestal for me). But, despite fears that I would find so much girl time difficult, and despite old paranoias' creeping back in from the hell that was drama school, I had a fabulous time.

Sun, sea, sand, food, a casual jelly fish sting (not mine) and before I knew it, it was over and I was on a plane outta there. Goodbye sun. Hello precipitating London.

Flew to Jersey yesterday to do a corporate Burlesque show with the gorgeous Folly Mixtures. Despite drunken pervy grabby corporate men we had a pleasant time. Really good to get to spend some time with the girls and very much hoping our ambitions of putting together a September show together come true.

Now I'm sat at home. A bit lost for what to do to be honest. I start my new job tomorrow. A job I feel like I've been waiting for my whole life. (You see how I manage to build it up and stress myself out?? - such a drama queen.) But no, really, playing Audrey in 'Little Shop of Horrors', in a professional show, with a big stage, a big budget and a top creative team really is a dream come true. I seriously can't wait to get stuck in. And yet, I am also shitting it.

C'est la vie.

Saturday 2nd July 1.11am

1am. Home. Bed. Laptop.

My life is crazy. I sang my whole life, went to top drama school, do random acting jobs and then somehow have ended up as the hostess/ringmaster of one of the biggest Burlesque shows in London. I, who used to cringe at the thought of a short skirt, now parade myself around in corset and frilly pants for all to see, draping my limbs across pianos, pulling on ties and sitting on laps.

I share a corridor (yes a corridor - not a dressing room - oh the glamour) with several skantilly clad women who talk passionately about work, life, ambition, make do and mend, vintage lifestyle, men, being self employed and where to buy the longest lasting lipstick. These women, these "strippers" are the most excitingly passionate and hardworking women within the creative arts I have ever met. Meticulously planning every move, every tease, every carefully placed crystal.

Sex is a powerful thing. (oh like you didn't know that). I don't really know when I realized that I could be sexy. And that it could be a good thing. It was sometime around 'A Little Night Music' at drama school when I had to play a saucy, sexually active maid. But that was just the start of it. Burlesque has undoubtably changed my life. These women are empowered. I really hope Burlesque continues to blossom and grow as it has been because (especially as a typical ex-body-hating girl) it is so SATISFYING to see women ENJOYING their bodies and being PROUD of what they are and how they use it. The media has, for too long, made women feel like they should never be satisfied, that it should hurt to be beautiful. It's really not true. I used to look at skinny skinny women and envy them like mad. Now I just think how much better I fill a corset. How Coca-cola bottles were modeled on figures like Marilyn Monroe not Kate Moss.

I'm not saying that being thin is unacceptable. Far from it. (I'm just coming from the background of someone who has never been thin). In Burlesque, EVERY female body is worshipped, Big hips, small hips, huge boobs, no boobs, cellulite, balletic legs, it doesn't matter. All the girls OWN it. And that's what makes them sexy.

Never giving away too much. But just enough to make you go weak at the knees.

Yes please. Boogie on reggae woman.

Thursday 30th June 12.13pm

Sometimes I feel so lucky I want to pinch myself.

Life really has a funny way of creeping up on you. Dire lowness to ecstatic happiness. Swings and roundabouts, swings and roundabouts.

Currently sat in my boyfriend's bed (today is our weekend) as he makes smoked salmon and scrambled eggs with bubbly for breakfast (I know!?). Don't ask me where I found him, I simply don't know. I joke to him that I go around watching plays until some guy catches my eye, and in this case I caught the eye of a man playing a crazed rapist. That obviously did it for me. Sold. Hook, line and sinker as they say. But yes, pinching often has to follow.

I think it's so easy to sail through the good times in life without a backward glance. But I have learnt, through my many ups and downs in my short life, that you simply HAVE to appreciate things when you have them. Because you never know when they'll be gone. Kisses, smoked salmon, acting jobs, magazines one day. Loneliness, empty bank accounts and polishing cutlery the next. You never know. Hopefully that won't be the case, but you never know. I remember one time in my life when everything felt SO perfect that I used to have horrific nightmares, things that COULD go wrong, and probably should, because everything is going too well! Karma and all that, innit. Ha. Innit geez.

Saw Liza Minnelli at the Albert Hall last night. What a woman. Yes, ok, her voice is definitely not what it was but who cares! My God, that woman has stories to tell and she knows how to tell them. Needless to say, what with her being one of my idols, i cried A LOT. Alone. Ha. It was nice to hear someone else sing 'Cabaret' for a change! Think my Friday cabaret show may be a secret dedication to the woman. I'm thinking 'Maybe This Time' sat on the grand piano might be quite nice - especially since those lyrics seem to fit quite well with my life at the moment.

Having watched quite a few live shows over the last few days what with Liza and Glastonbury, one of my favourite things to see is the performer's face when it all sinks in. Or when they REALLY see the crowd for the first time. This euphoria that lights up their eyes. The disbelief that this could actually be happening. The adrenaline that comes when you hit that high note and people actually applaud you. Liza described this feeling and then sang 'Everytime We Say Goodbye'. It's true. It's hard being a performer, particularly in cabaret shows, giving your ALL every night, sometimes to people that can't even be bothered to bring their hands together, but it all pays off. It all pays off in that one moment. For me at the moment it's when I sing 'Cabaret'. It's when the lyrics fit perfectly to an emotion you're feeling. You connect, and the audience feel it. And for a tiny moment, we all feel it together. You've told your story, people have listened, people have emoted. Crazy. What a great career. You don't get to express that stuff in an office job.

"When I was younger, I would have all these emotions that, well, everybody has them, but I didn't know what to do with them, so I would find a song that described how I felt and I would learn it. Which meant by the age of 13 I knew 4000 songs! But it's true, some people collect stamps, I collect lyrics" - Liza Minnelli

Tuesday 28th June 2011 9.51pm

So I'm sat in my old bedroom of my parent's house. Just packed my belongings ready for the mega-early-mega-long bus journey back to London tomorrow. Trying to figure out how one average sized girl can manage a huge rucksack, a guitar (in a hard case), a handbag and a large (new) macbook pro. But God knows I'm gonna try.

I love my family but we suffer from 'lackofthingsincommontosis'. I have been sat in my room most of the evening wondering why I am still in sleepy Somerset and not returned to my crazy London life. There isn't an answer really, except that when you're not with family you miss them, and when you're with them you all sit in seperate rooms staring at separate TV screens or computers. The next time my parents see me I will be embarking on my biggest role to date.

So I'm back from Glastonbury 2011. And just to make all you non-glastonbury-2011-goers happy, I am not going to rave at how AMAZING it was. Because I'm not utterly convinced I had a good time. I was 16 the last time I graced the festival (despite actually coming from this very town) and I did feel it had lost it's magic somewhat. I couldn't really decide whether it was me being an old hippy, or just that I see the world more clearly now at my grand old age of 22, but it didn't seem as friendly as it once was. Ok, granted, I made this decision pretty sharpish when I received a feline hostile laugh upon my entrance to the festival. (I only asked where my campsite was). But unfortunately I wasn't much convinced otherwise as the festival continued.

I think other factors in my lack of enjoyment were the fact that when I last went I was a young adventurer, Glastonbury spelt freedom and excitement. But now that I live a constant life of freedom and enjoyment, Glastonbury felt quite small and tame by comparison. Friends were also interesting. I have a group of friends that are unconditional. But there was no denying it, there was a strange strain on our relationships this past week which has left me feeling lost, and a little upset. Feeling like you're the old boring toy that no one wants to play with is hard work in festival land. Especially Glastonbury. Where's the unconditional world wide love that Eavis dreams of? Anyway, as we get older, getting wasted and staying up and doing ridiculous things seem to take the place of getting lost in music and doing for the music. But as I said, maybe I'm just an old hippy.

A friend spotted my 'Vivien of Holloway' advert in Elle Magazine today. Madness. This time last year I was working two jobs - one as a waitress and one as an entertainer at Madame Tussauds. Now, if you walk into WH Smiths right now, you can find me in THREE magazines. It weirds me out how normal things become so quickly. If you'd told me that last year I would have thought you were joking. If you'd told me at 16 that I was going to be a model I would have eaten my own head!

Anyway, the parents beckon. A glass of red wine and a chat may solve my worries. Deary me, Somerset is definitely not for me anymore. Take me back to my strip clubs and night buses. (I'm lying - I always get a cab - snob). I'm gracing the Albert hall to see one of my idols Liza Minnelli tomorrow night. (And I also can't wait to be back in the arms of a certain Welshman).