The love affair with Bill Hughes continues. I fear, however, that I may have given myself away as I stalked him out of the classroom last Monday night, chatting about this and that, how wonderful I thought his class was, how was his leg and did he know if Caroline Moraghan was likely to get all the TV work in Ireland forever and ever? So excited was I that I forgot to shut up and take the turn for my car and found myself pretty much following Bill homewards for tea. Thankfully, Ginger John made an appearance just in the nick of time and so Bill gently shooed me in his direction, and journeyed on without this random woman from his class finding out where he lives. It was a blessing for many reasons, not least of all because Ginger John got me back on track to the direction of my car. I’ve always said it, Gingers rock.

 

The third TV Presenting Course was better than ever, with each of my classmates and I presenting an intro to our very own programmes that we would like to deliver to the telly watching masses. We had an international dance show from Sibéal, an history of the 10-year-old Electric Picnic from Dónal (Craig Doyle WATCH out) and a documentary on racism in Ireland against the travelling community from Ginger John. I had my own little show about parenting, inspired by a Facebook post I read from a friend who was donating to the Human Milk Bank. That’s right, read it again, The Human Milk Bank. (I still don’t know if I’m appalled or touched. Will get back to you on this later).

 

True to form, my Nerves Warrior came along to the class for the jaunt and this week, instead of just digging me in the backs of the knees for my piece, he landed multiple attacks all over my body. From the second I opened my mouth in front of the class, I shook from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and could only pray that The Jitters weren’t coming out of my mouth too. In any case, I got through it and a second attempt that Bill directed me through to slow down my pace and find my strong voice. As opposed to the teeny tiny girly one I used in the first place. Who knew?!

 

We’re off this week due to the bank holiday and our next task is to find a piece of journalism that speaks to us within our chosen genres, and we’ll get to deliver that again next Monday. Bill has suggested broadening our reading and therefore our resources on our chosen topics. One might think that one is well read, given the millions of courses that one has taken but in fact, one has realized that the extent of one’s reading is the free Metro and U Magazine. Poor show, Shazzy! I’ve now subscribed to Vanity Fair and lots of parenting-related blogs, and feel much more informed already. Even though I haven’t actually read anything yet.

 

I’ve had further signals that TV Presenting is the right course for me, with a trip to opening night of The Lion King with the wonderful Jennifer Stevens from the aforementioned U Magazine. May I refer you to Blog No. 1 where I mentioned that my introduction to telly presenting and wonderful hair, was Aongus McNally from Anything Goes in RTE when I was about six. Well lo and behold, sitting right in front of me at the Bord Gais Energy Theatre (and blocking the view, he’s so tall!), I give you… Mr. McNally. BOOM.

 

The Back of Aongus' Head ;o)
The Back of Aongus’ Head ;o)