Mental the normal amount

Once upon a time there was a girl, well actually there were lots of girls, in fact about 50% of the World was made up of them. Well, yeah, so there were lots of girls except for that time when God made a woman out of that mans rib cage, then I think there was just the one girl. But this once upon a time there was a girl amongst many others and...wait, hang on, what was I talking about?

Girls...rib cages...is my iPhone correct when it separates the word rib from cage? I want to join them, in holy matrimony. Ribcage.

I had a rib cage once. No wait, I still do have an actual rib cage. Imagine not having an actual rib cage. What if you just had a spine and no rib cage. Imagine how wobbly boobs would be then! And if you squeezed them hard enough you could probably feel the lungs underneath.

So once, when I was a girl who had a rib cage I went a bit mental. Not because of the rib cage, in fact the rib cage has nothing really to do with the story except that once a girl was made out of a rib cage and I am a girl, a girl who went mental. Proper like Meryl Streep mental. Well, Meryl probably hasn't actually gone mental but she could play mental. Picture Meryl Streep playing Virginia Woolf. No wait...Meryl was the one that wasn't Virginia Woolf in that film where they were all mental. But no one wants to picture Nicole Kidman so ignore the film, picture Meryl Streep playing Virginia Woolf. But maybe not as skinny as Virginia Woolf, I mean I still eat. And my nose is actually reasonably in proportion to my face. But when I was a teenager it was MASSIVE. Actually, I'm not sure I had a face, just a nose. So picture Meryl Streep...and Virginia Woolf but not skinny, with a normal nose and forget Nicole Kidman and that was me, in fair Verona where we start our tale. Except, it's not actually in Verona where we start but Shakespeare wrote that and I once played Juliet. Not when I was mental. Well just before the first time I was mental but that's not this time and I wasn't mental when I played her. But Juliet kills herself and I wore a backless white dress that got wet in the torrential rain whilst I was lying still pretending to be unconscious underneath said rain and when I took my bow everyone could see my nipples. They are quite nice nipples to be fair but back then when the whole audience had seen my nipples not even a boy had seen or touched them so it was highly embarrassing. Poor little innocent 17 year old Hannah.

So yeah, picture me if I was Meryl Streep playing Virginia Woolf without the nose and not anorexic somewhere that isn't Verona. Well London actually…and a little bit of Paris. Not mixed together. That would be weird. Imagine mixing Paris with London. I mean first off you would have created the rudest person the World has ever seen and Big Ben would sit a top a long thin spike and the Queen would be headless. Shit that's treason. Think of poor Prince George. Don't make us mix Paris and London. I'm a little bit scared now; will the Queen take my head for talking about her losing her head? I quite like my head. I mean, sure, it comes with a face with a double chin, round cheeks and an annoying tendency to gurn but it’s MY face. It's not yours. You have your own face, which might also come with double chins and stuff but love it anyway because it is your face. And you only get one and it always changes so even if you like it today, you might not like it when it gets wrinkles but that's not fair on your face because it can't help it. Plus you don't want to look like all those people who try and change their faces. Name me one person where that's worked?

Right so we're in London but we actually started in Paris. Okay, picture Meryl Streep playing Virginia Woolf only not skinny with a normal nose living in a studio flat in Paris with a 'pet' mouse. I use the term pet loosely because he wasn't invited, he just moved in. Sure, at first he was very unwelcome, hell he made me scream. But soon I realised he was just as down on his luck as I was and heck crying into a bottle of wine whilst a mouse hides in the cupboard was definitely less lonely than when the mouse wasn’t hiding in the cupboard. So…

Meryl Streep, playing Virginia Woolf but not as skinny or with a big nose, living in a small studio flat with a mouse for company and drowning in a sea of wine and cheese and then she goes mental. No wait…she already is mental. Technically, she ‘went’ mental in London before she moved to Paris.

Okay, it all started with Glandular fever back in 2008 in London. There was a ginger man. A pub, a ginger woman, a ginger dog (I’m not even lying) and…well it started there but the main character didn’t know it had started. She knew in Paris. So we’re in Paris but then wait, the tablets and proper doctor saying “’Ere love, your mental”, that happened after Paris, in London. I’m so confused…

Basically, what I’m trying to get at is this morning the doctor said I’m not that mental anymore and we can start reducing my mental pills as she reckons I’m near on the normal amount of mental. So, yeah Meryl Streep, after she won an Oscar. Picture that. Then rewind a few years to Meryl Streep struggling actress but not mental, just poor, with chubbier cheeks, a double chin, a tendency to gurn and ginger hair. That is where you find me.