Monthly Archives: December 2010

Well, well, well, would you look at that? It’s my one year Blogoversary. And what a way to celebrate a year of Ritzi and the approaching end of The Year of Promiscuity than with a good shag?

SO. It’s the festive season. I’ve got party invites coming out of my ears. Somehow, I’ve managed to fit into slinky dresses despite having four – yes FOUR three course meals this week. After one of them (a little actors reunion style affair) I decided that three courses and almost an entire bottle of wine to myself was simply not enough for Ritzi, and so declared I was off to Century for a night cap, and anyone who wanted to join me was welcome.

It being late, on a weekday, and the beginning of Panto season, most folks had early morning rehearsals, except for… the Little Drummer Boy.

LDB and I used to work together a looooooong time ago. He’s not an actor any more, having chosen instead a life of hi-hats and base drums. He plays for quite a few shows and is a veritable man-slag.

Score.

We head off to Century’s roof garden and proceed to get smashed on a bottle of £78 Champagne. I don’t remember who paid… but since I don’t carry cash and my bank haven’t called me bitching about going over my overdraft (again) I’m going to say it probably wasn’t me.

We reminisced about happy, carefree times, and bitched about the people we’d just been with (showbiz folk are two faced. Deal) and I made him laugh his way out of his chair when I told the story of SPEED DIAL-GATE. Eventually, (I say this like it was late, it was like 11.30 or something) LBD turns to me and says;

“You know what Ritzi? You and I would be shit as a couple, but I’ve always thought we’d be damn good in bed.”

I’m sorry – did LDB develop some crazy telepathic powers since diverting to the musician religion? Because I’m sure that line was pulled straight out of my daydream archives.

Of course, I ripped it out of him for using such a line, but with several gallons of champagne bubbling through my veins it took about… ooh, three and a half seconds, before I said; “Come on then, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Someone at the Musicians Union knows what they are doing when it comes to minimum wage negotiations. LDB and I hop into a cab and five minutes later, pull up at his flat in Euston. Two locks and a lift later, and my clothes are on the floor.

Considering I’ve been so swamped with work that I haven’t even made the effort to get laid since JULY – the haste was very much appreciated.

Hilariously, the entire event from start to finish lasted exactly the length of Guns and Roses’ ‘Paradise City’ (nice ipod choice there LDB ) which I have since learned is 6 minutes and 46 seconds.

What a way to round off the year.

Afterwards, I hunted for my knickers (eventually finding them dangling precariously off the corner of a Christmas card from his mother) while he made a pot of tea. Which we then drank to sober up. Then we laughed for about ten minutes about the fact that we’d just shagged up against the door of his flat without checking if his flatmate was home. When my tea was drunk and my head just clear enough to find my shoes, I made my way outside, flagged down a cab and was in by own bed by 12.45.

It may be cruel, but I am just going to flag the irony that the tea and laughter lasted longer than the actual sex. Bless you LDB. You’re right, we would be shit as a couple. I don’t fancy marrying someone whose foreplay resembles a rather short drum roll.

And now, after a week consisting of two press nights, three dinners, two parties, five international conference calls and a spontaneous trip to Kings Cross to gift my American Intern buddy a photo of him enroute to platform nine and three quarters, I sit on my couch, post shower, looking back on a year of climbing the ladder.

A year ago, I had a job but it wasn’t the one I wanted. I was a tad heartbroken. I wasn’t too fond of my living situation. And it hadn’t even snowed yet in December.

Today, I love my job. I’m so over TVboy I could probably run into him and NOT throw up. I live in a beautiful flat. And last weekend I spent four days in the countryside under 2ft of snow having a lovely time while everyone else dealt with cancelled trains and overcrowded tubes. Not to mention I’ve made some fantastic friends, travelled to far off lands and attended some quite frankly FABULOUS parties. If all of this can happen in a year, I’m positively bursting at the thought of what I might be writing on December 11th, 2011.

And so, I’ll leave you the same way I did on that first entry, three hundred and sixty five moons ago;

At the end of the day, we’re all climbing up a ladder. Some are longer than others, and some are easier to climb. We all slip every now and then, and sometimes it takes time to find the strength to heave ourselves back to the rung we’d reached before. But we’re all on the way up, and we’ve got to keep climbing. That’s why the ladder’s there after all.

RitziCx