Janey Godley’s Blog

This one was particularly horrifying. It started with my daughter’s best pal Victoria, she was standing in my living room and we were jokingly mocking her about a boy she had met. She took it badly and ran into my bedroom and climbed onto my bed and opened our big window. We live on the top floor. I watched as she climbed backwards through the window and held on with both hands onto the frame, screaming she was going to let herself go.

My daughter was standing on the bed begging her to come back in and for some reason I could hear my husband down in the back car park shouting at her to stop the nonsense.

In the moment I stood there I felt the utter depth of her soul and I actually understood her need to let go, in between all the screaming and watching my daughter beg her to stop, I actually felt the horror of Victoria ’s pain. It was disgusting and hollow.

Like a bottomless pit in my stomach. That one second of her pain was revealed to me like she had transferred all her deepest fears and sorrow to me in one glance and my soul had sucked it in and let it penetrate my heart.

Victoria just closed her eyes and let herself go out of the window. My daughter Ashley fell on the bed hysterical and wept. I ran out of the bedroom and ran about panicking then ran back into the bedroom and the scene that faced me made my heart stop. Ashley was standing up on the window ledge, she made eye contact with me, and she never spoke, she smiled and her eyes twinkled and then she waved, and then let herself drop into the emptiness.

I ran to the window paralysed with fear and watched her fall and then she bounced off a parked car and her broken dead body lay stiffly beside her friend Victoria who was splattered all over the concrete. My husband was screaming as his daughter lay in the backyard dead.

I woke up screaming and ran into Ashley’s room and there she was all sleepy and tangled up in her duvet. Her favourite teddy was snuggled up in her arms and her dark hair was spread around her head like a dark wavy halo. Her pale face was serene, her dark eyelashes sat thickly on her cheeks and that beautiful pouting rose coloured mouth made her look like a baby.

I stood in the silence of her bedroom and watched her for a few moments.

I was recalling the sheer horror that I had felt seconds ago and knew in that moment that if she died I would have to go to my death to; I couldn’t bear to live my life without knowing she was there.

I know grief, I felt it last week.

The rest of the fringe will be piss easy. I have my daughter safely hugging me as I write this. Life is good.

On Friday night I did my comedy preview show at Kilmarnock, then went to the Central station and got on the late night sleeper to London . The cabin was tiny and hot, one wee squinty bed with the covers so tightly tucked in I had to squeeze my fat bloated body in.

I couldn’t sleep, the bloody train rocks and shoogles all through the night and I kept waking up thinking the train was crashing! Nice…

Anyway managed to get to London on time to do the fabulous BBC Radio 4 show ‘Saturday Live’ with the ever so cool Tom Robinson, he is amazing. I love the show and it was a great experience being on it and Tom is a wonderful guy. I am such a fan of his.

Then I got in a cab and went to Heathrow to fly back home and do my other preview in Kilmarnock. The show was not as high energy as I wanted but after having such a heavy period and being tried….well I was all out of sparks! Though the show went fine.

Last night I sat and watched ZULU that old 60s movie with Michael Caine and Stanley Baker and pissed myself laughing at the accents and attitude of those poncy British Soldiers. How presumptuous of them to assume they could colonise a nation with a stiff upper lip and silver service tea set! I have to say though it was shot beautifully and the scenery was stunning. I am going to watch ZULU DAWN next and catch up on my old films.

I always do this at Edinburgh time; I get out all my old film classics and watch them. It takes the heat off the stress of doing two shows a day.

So it is now Monday. I am getting packed up and today I go through to Edinburgh to do my technical run through. I am still woozy and tired but ready to roll.

I hope the two shows go well ‘Janey Godley’s Chat Show’ at the Green room 5pm and ‘Tell It Like It Is’ my comedy show up at the Pleasance at 7pm.

He is a Scottish comic and he does a character called Senga McInally and it’s based on me. I heard about it through a mate and she told me it was hilarious, so I checked out his website and there he was in a black curly wig and in a dress, and actually does look like me! Except he kind of ruined the image by standing holding a beer and I don’t drink!

He goes on stage and does a parody of me and shouts about my best selling book! (I couldn’t pay for this kind of advertisement) I am so chuffed.

Anyway I popped down to a wee bar locally where he was gigging last weekend and asked him personally to come on my chat show at the Edinburgh Fringe at the Green Room at 5pm. He did at first agree but it seems now he can’t make it and I am so upset.

Can you imagine having your very own tribute act on your very own show?

My husband told me that until you have an impersonator you are a nobody, so at least I have discovered that I am famous enough to be recognised by audiences without even being there and that must say something.

Even George Bush had his own impersonator on his stage at one event, and the UK Puppet show Spitting Image proved that you had to be someone to be parodied.

Some other comics pointed out that his act is rather cruel about me, but I can’t see how that is true, if he goes to the bother of buying a black wig and dress and talks about my achievements then that’s not cruel. That’s good press.

My daughter and I did an extreme tribute to Jade Goody on my website videos; if she wasn’t famous she wouldn’t be worth doing, so it’s all relevant!

If he is nasty and cruel about me, fair play to him, I put myself up to be poked at and you have to take everything on the chin. I say stuff about famous people. I am just amazed that I am famous enough for audiences to have that laugh of recognition about me, that’s the amazing thing. Gobsmacked!

Anyway I don’t believe that the guy would be cruel or nasty about me, why would he, he is my tribute guy!

So a big round of applause and respect to Senga McInally and her continuous success is my thought on the matter.

May she live to see another day?

I remember about twelve years ago, I went to a private therapist to talk about the sexual abuse I had suffered as a child.

I didn’t really want to go but was advised that it would help. This was a new age type of holistic therapy. But it was recommended and although I was hesitant I tried to open my mind and try it.

On meeting the woman who was my one-on-one therapist, I immediately felt uncomfortable. She had that overly bright smiley look that makes me think of people who are on Valium or who are eternally happy over nothing.

Anyway she hugged me (how odd) and then sat me down and told me that before she could asses me we had to do some exercises!

I had just finished an eight hour shift in my busy pub and didn’t feel like being a tree or whatever the fuck she thought I wanted to be.

Anyway she stood me in the middle of this floor in a big empty room and handed me a small hard rubber ball. There was big circle in blue on the opposite wall and she told me to throw the ball at the circle, and then tell her what made me sad.

I was so fucking tired and couldn’t be arsed with this, I couldn’t see how being raped at five could be solved by lobbing a ball at a wall, but I thought I shouldn’t be churlish.

She told me before I threw the ball that anger is a controllable emotion, that it is natural and expressive, so not to feel strange but to feel ‘safe’. Then she smiled serenely, nodded her head at me, then opened her arms and hummed loudly.

I stifled a giggle.

I decided to take her words on board and I lifted my arm up and with all my strength I battered that wee ball towards the wall, it hurled in the air at an amazing speed, the sheer force of it hitting off the wall made a big popping sound.

The ball smacked the wall, ricocheted back and hit the woman right in the eye.

She fell on the floor and went into the foetal position and gasped in pain.

I stood there not knowing what to do, why the fuck did she stand in the room with her arms open, she looked like a target!

“Are you ok?” I asked.

She jumped up and held her eye with both hands and screamed at me “You have probably damaged my eye, why did you throw it so hard?”

“I was raped” was all I could say.

I laughed so much, she screamed more at me. All I could do was grab my coat and run out.

She was right; it did make me feel better.

At least I got some peace and quiet.

I saw the feature of Ashley and I in the Sunday Times Ecosse section and the picture they used of me is hideously funny. I am stuck on a fence with one leg over and one leg behind the metal rail and it really is the most unflattering picture of me I have ever seen. Ashley looks like a Goddess. I look like a fat stuck pig. The article was great though.

Well there has been trouble at the Godley house hold. Husband and I had yet another spectacular shouting match (all we do is fight). As always it my fault, me again and my big fucking annoying mouth. I seem to make him pissed off just by breathing…is that possible? He is big MAN…you see I have run out of insults and have resorted to calling him a man that’s how exasperated he has got me lately.

Ashley is even grumpier; her favourite jeans that she has worn to death have actually died. They have fallen apart and are in shreds.

She had out seven pairs of jeans today and apparently none of them fit properly like her old jeans. So I have decided to get the old jeans and take them to a tailor to be copied. The things I will do for some fucking peace. I may just run away and never come back. They might not even miss me.

So there we have it, daisy chains and shouting matches. At least Scotland isn’t flooded.

It seems Middle England is under water this week. Huge floods have swept across most of Cheltenham, Gloucester and other places that sound like building society’s in the UK .

Scotland seems to be fine so far and I am not sure if we are under threat but there is a reason they call us Lowlanders here in Glasgow !

I may move to the Highlands like my forefathers. Actually I recently investigated my gene pool and it seems I had a great, great, great Granny with the surname Derham, which isn’t actually from Durham but is Dutch.

How nice, I quite like being a bit Dutch.

My husband has Scottish Highlanders going back five generations and that explains why our daughter is really tall and looks like a big highland lass! All dark hair, fair skin and strong legs, Ashley was made for tree felling and fighting invaders.

I was made for rolling down hills and making clogs I suspect.

Here is my family tree that I found out so far- start at the bottom with my dad and work upwards.

(Her mum and dad) John Derham and Catherine Rogers (no dates)

(Her mum) Julia Derham (b 1853 d 1914)                                                    

(Her mum)Julia Gunn (b 1887 d 1949)                                                                    

(His mother) Martha Currie (Died in 1950’s) 

  My dad Jim Currie (still alive)

So there we are- a wee bit of my history. I would like to add more to it, but I am still searching and need to go up to the genealogy department to finish it all off, but haven’t got the time yet.

I love figuring out where I came from and find it immensely interesting.

I will update as I find out more.

My name Godley was actually my middle name, I was born Janey Godley Currie –Godley was given to me by my Aunt Janey who married a bloke called John Godley in the late 50s and then she divorced him and I was left with his name and no one knows anything about him!

I suspect he was from Kent or somewhere like that, my aunt and he never had kids together and I don’t speak to my aunt. She hated me for taking her brother to court for sexually abusing me.

Her brother is my Uncle David who raped and abused me as a child and she defended him and insists I am a liar.

My uncle was charged and sentenced to three years imprisonment for abusing my sister and me. So I will probably never know who John Godley was or is or where he is now. But I have his name and I am proud of it!

I don’t hate my Aunt Janey, I feel sorry for her. She is somewhere out there convincing herself that her family name is intact and their honour is preserved.

What a shame, but I don’t feel sorry for telling the truth….EVER!

The young guy stood there and as the public waited on his answer- I pushed him again “Am I going to hell even though I am a good person? Come on tell the people, they want to know” and he said quietly “Yes she will go to hell” and I laughed loudly and said that priests who have abused kids will got to heaven but I wont and yes my life is perfect.

So after that wee conclusion I marched off home happily. I am sure is Jesus is up there watching us he would agree with me more.

Life can be like that.

I may read the last few pages and spoil it for everyone! I WILL NOT!

Husband and I went down to Balmaha on the banks of Loch Lomond to visit my niece Ann Margaret, she and her husband were camping with baby Abi and Shaun. The sun was shining when we arrived and baby Abi was sitting sadly on a swing, so I went over to find out what was wrong; I thought she would be happy to see me.

“Hello Abi, are you ok?” I asked.

“No” she sulked.

“Why?” I asked.

“I want a wet suit and boat of my own, everyone else has one” she pouted.

I couldn’t stop laughing, a fucking boat and a wet suit! I recall begging for one roller skate when I was her age, one skate would have done me…a fucking boat? Hahahaha…

Anyway she finally decided to stop moaning come play on the beach. Just as we got there the clouds burst and the weather went from searing hot to pounding rain…we all ran towards the tent and huddled in to get out of the slashing storm.

Ann Margaret had a wee one ring gas stove, so as she and her husband drove off to buy fish and chips for dinner, my husband and I boiled some water and had a cup of tea. Finally the rain stopped and we sat outside in the wet fresh greenery and drank our hot mugs of tea…it was delightful!

The fish and chips arrived and wee Abi who is only four years old and must have a stomach the size of a wee golf ball yet managed to stuff huge amounts of food in and a few slices of bread!

She eats like hell and is a tiny wee fairy type child…it never fails to amaze me.

Shaun, who had been in the Loch swimming for ages also ate like a ravenous wolf, I couldn’t stop laughing at the way they sat so lovely and all fingers and pointy pinky fingers, yet chomping their way through a whole fish and plateful of chips.

They don’t normally get chips and fast food, but as the rain had destroyed all chances of eating from the barbeque desperate measures were needed!

Husband and I drove off home leaving the happy wee family sitting outside their wet tent, but enjoying a day with their kids. Ann Margaret’s youngest baby Julia was being babysat, so they had more time to spend with Shaun and Abi.

When we were leaving Abi hugged me and said “Can you buy me a boat Aunty Janey?” I just laughed and promised I would teach her to swim so she doesn’t need a boat in future.

We were passing a field the other day and there was a goat sucking on a sheep’s teats, well I hope that’s what it was doing, I hope I never witnessed sheep rape, I am not sure if it was a female sheep-anyway the sheep was trying to get away and goat was really insistent. Yuk.

Whilst on that theme of wild life and sex, my daughter once had to sit exams in her old school church and in the middle of the exam a pigeon starting screaming around the rafters as a male pigeon tried to pin it down for sex!

There were feathers and dust flying all around the place and my daughter complained that she couldn’t concentrate on her maths exam as pigeon rape took place!

I am sure many people here recall back in their childhood seeing two dogs stuck together at the ass and women would come out and throw buckets of water over them. I used to think it was like the ‘pushmi-pullyu’Llama from the Doctor Doolittle stories.

I think I am all out of animal sex stories for now.

I had to go on the phone for nearly an hour tonight talking with a journalist as Ashley and I are featured in the Sunday Times Ecosse section next Sunday; it’s about mothers and their daughters.  I hope I came across ok.

Glasgow was hot today, well not to start with, we had hail stones as big as pebbles then the sun came out.

Four seasons in one day!

The stony beach overlooks the east side of Loch Lomond and it can be a peaceful place at times, but not today.

I was surprised to see many young girls as old as eight, nine or ten running around naked as their parents sat and watched them play on the busy shore. I kept averting my eyes incase I looked like a pervert that likes watching naked females play in the surf.

I am not being stuffy here but how hard is it to cover up little girls developing bodies?

I wish we lived in a society that has no inhibitions about naked kids….but fucksake dear parents shoot yourself in the face, people have camera phones and access to the internet and we all know the consequences of that equation.

Only recently we have had to deal with the barrage of publicity of that wee McCann girl being abducted from her holiday villa, people snatch kids and usually girls.

Well at least the naked girl’s parents were sitting close and not dining out of reach of their kids like the McCann family, who I think need a good kick in the bollocks for leaving their three small kids unattended.

Anyway lest I rant about the negligent McCann family, I did have a decent day at the beach.

We stopped at the Carbeth Inn on the way home and Ashley remarked about the sheer amount of fat baldy bikers and asked “I wonder what the ratio of hair loss to bikers is?” and that made me laugh.

Life is ok; we are all waiting patiently on our move to Edinburgh in August for the Fringe 2007. I am gathering amazing guests for my chat show and my new comedy show ‘Tell It Like It Is’ is all good to go.

Do come along if you are in the area, would be nice to see you all!