Its been an interesting few weeks, and I have been painfully reminded recently that life is not simple, it isnt easy and sometimes it isnt nice. However in a cliche to end all cliches, life is what you make of it.
To the beginning and a jaunt to the UK, to spend time with the girl I refer to as my big sister, I do this not as a throw away term but because sometimes in life you meet people that go further than friendship, that have a place in your heart that makes them family. I have heard the phrase ‘friends are the family you choose for yourself’ over and over again my whole life. I have always questioned it, because given the chance I would pick my own family ten times over, well my immediate family anyway. I always wondered what it meant until I met Rachael. I have a brother, who is my world, who proves that blood is thicker than water and who I would lay down my life for without question or hesitation. You are supposed to be able to be yourself with your family in a way that you cant with anyone else, ever. Another great phrase just re-iterates that ; ‘Maxine you are my family, this means I will ALWAYS love you, but I wont always like you’. It took me many years to understand that sentiment. I strive to find that with friends, and in relationships. Understanding that you cant like someone every minute of every day, you are going to be annoyed, irritated etc but that love remains, and trying to remember that. I digress.
Rachael came along, and stole a little piece of all the Reddings hearts. She is dear to us all for different reasons. To me I gained a sister, one that I can swap shoes with, who I can laugh til we have to pull the car over with, that I can cry with, that I can tell anything too because she loves me, and would never judge, and because I feel the same about her as I do about my family, I would protect her with everything I possibly could, with anything I have. I can be in her kitchen making dinner and I can be at a black tie function and it makes no difference. So I went to the UK to spend time with her, and drink endless bottles of wine, laugh until even we hurt and cry and gossip and laugh some more.
Aside from Rachael though, there was another important part of the trip. Michael Ball. The months had stretched interminably and then it was there, mere days away. You can imagine my distress the day before to hear that the 4 tickets I had bought for my mother, auntie and Rachael had not been delivered seamlessly as promised. Indeed there were 2 tickets only and not even in the post code of where we were supposed to be sitting. Cue major tantrum. Believe me there was much foot stamping, flicking of hair and shouting. That was just at the laptop. Help was delivered to me in the form of the great man himself. Michael Ball via the power of twitter alerted the evil puppet masters that are ticketmaster to my plight, and within nanoseconds the worlds campest man, don’t think I am exaggerating here, think Paul O Grady melded with Boy George and a dash of Alan Carr thrown in for good measure, rang me to reassure me.
Reassured but with no physical tickets, at 2.00pm on the day of the show, I head off to do the only thing appropriate at that moment, have afternoon tea at the Carlton. With champagne. More phone calls from the worlds campest man and still no tickets, and we are rapidly approaching the actual show, I now have two new pairs of Louboutins to choose from, Rachael is incoming with great speed from work and I am thinking I may need to breathe into a brown paper bag at some point soon. More Tweets, more ranty phone calls and Matthew (worlds campest man aka WCM) has rung to say he is working on it, my front row tickets are a thing of the past, some evil bastard has them and I won’t be getting them back, however I am within 2 seats of where I should have been. Now WCM just has to get these 4 little beauties to my hand prior to the show. WCM enquires as to how much I actually love Michael Ball as he is very impressed at the level of detail in which I have quizzed him, and how many managers he has telling him to ensure I am fixed. I assume he meant in regard to tickets, but who actually knows.
Tickets received, Louboutins on I went and promptly had the best night of my life. That is not blowing it out of any proportion whatsoever. I cried, I laughed and I sang my little heart out, much to the joy of the people behind me, if you have ever heard me sing you will sympathise with them. I have spent 2 years trying to find a song that meant so much to me emotionally, and for many reasons which I will not share with you all, after all some things should remain precious (this one isn’t its just painful) I couldn’t remember the title, I searched everywhere for it to no avail, and then there he was, my hero singing the song, better than I have ever heard it sung. I cried buckets. He followed it with my Mother and Fathers song, cue more tears from a usually non emotional Maxine. It was amazing, and worth every frantic phone call, penny, tear and laugh. He was magical and that’s why I will always defend him, every person in the Royal Albert Hall felt like they had met him personally by the end of the show. My thanks have to go to Matthew, the worlds campest man, he is also a bit of a hero in his own camp way.
I spent the next night in London with some awesome people, having a night that ranged from the extreme, 23 pound vodkas, to the hilarious, Gay Eastenders cast members trying to impress me and Simon, to the genuinely awesome, meeting Sayed finally and chin wagging on my favourite subject for quite some time. To the expensive, 400 quid leather jackets which you just HAVE to have. I adore London when you can afford to enjoy it, that sounds arrogant and showy offy, but London is best enjoyed from the back seat of a black cab.
Back to Newmarket and the Sofa or more accurately the wine bar, and there began and ended my trip to see my Sister.
Being back is always difficult, back to work on a project that for the first time in a long time is proving difficult to harness, tricky to beat into Maxine style submission, and having spent weeks not being able to get up the interest or passion for it, it has beaten me to a place where I now need to get it right because I am downright furious. I will show it, and them, and it will be amazing, and I envisage weeks more of nasty facebook ranting, shouting at my friends and family about it, and then it will be over, it will have been achieved, and hopefully done well. Then I can breathe a sigh of relief and get back to normal.
I lost my Grandmother this week, which is something that I wont delve into, as some things are not for public discussion I believe, however I will say that it makes you look at your family, and you do imagine what life will be like without them. I have learned that even my creative mind cant do it. There is no where in my mind that I can dream a world that doesn’t have my family in it. They are moving into my apartment block soon, and I am the luckiest girl alive to have them so close by, but with 4 floors between us, so I can have a 5 minute arrival warning !!
In the midst of all of that I have my lovely Victory Heights Family Dinny looking after me, trying to ensure that the sparkles are back in my life and I am smiling. They succeed every time they pick up the phone, or send me to a rat infested hotel with practically no booze for a weekend away. I have had a strange year so far, and its already July, some new things that creep up on you and surprise you, some things you thought you wanted and when you get them you don’t anymore, and the things that you find you can wait for, because without being sure, you feel they may be important.
I think that on the route to my 30th birthday I may have finally learned to keep some things to myself, and not expect people to behave the same way you do, but that when they do you should enjoy it, and treasure it.
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