Saturday night me and Mum spent half the night working out a route to Elstree...then another one...and another...and a fourth just in case. Oh yes we were PREPARED this time, overly some might say but at least this time we wouldn't be stranded in the middle of London.
With more than a few arrangements up our sleeves, we set off at 1pm and was there by 1.45pm, didn't get lost, even if we did have to go round a roundabout three times, DOESN'T COUNT. We parked opposite the studios and joined the end of a the very short queue, we just assumed it was the Dancing on Ice queue, there were no signs up saying it was and wasn't very obvious. However the family in front who seemed to know EVERYTHING about Dancing on Ice and skating in general (it sounded like they had a script about all they've done and seen, yawn, ready to tell anyone around who was listening...us) said it was, so we munched on sandwiches and @salihughes' birthday cake, nom, see told you we were prepared.
So an hour into this next TV drama things were going well, it was sunny, not raining, we were at the front of the queue and eating lunch. Marvellous. No, there is no BUT, it really WAS marvellous.
At 3.30pm my toes had once again frozen and were threatening to break off at any given moment, I even wore my uggs this time which turned out to be no help whatsoever, although for the two and a half hours we waited, I got incredibly distracted by a rather gorgeous looking man in front of us in the queue...kept me busy. Then the ticket guy, not Martin the very funny small camp gay, came out and sorted us out into priority and non-priority. Now up to this point we were content and everything was going swimmingly well...then this guy started pulling people out and started a new priority queue...a long one...100 people...oh shit. We already knew the studio was going to be smaller than expected and they would need to sort out the skaters' family and friends first, but no one warned us about PRIORITY TICKETS. Me and Mum quick glanced at horror at each other then went on to glare at all the priority snobs who were starting to get red wristbands. HOWEVER. I had my lucky bracelet on which is also red, a clear sign things were going to go well...right...yes right...no but again...we got wristbands! Only just though, as the family behind us got raffle tickets, which were to be drawn if there were seats available after us wristbanders had been seated. After kissing my wristband and clinging on to it for dear life, we were 'processed and fed through to the holding area' *tumbleweed* Yep, that's how they phrased it, we now seemed to be some sort of animal or other being, we felt like we were going to get gassed or something. Worrying.
ALAS NO, this 'holding area' was a hall filled with warmness, hot drinks and chairs...I didn't sit on them, oh no, I was sticking to the plan of being as close to the door as poss in order to run and grab good seats when we were called, genius. So while Mum spend 40mins at the end of the hot drinks line, what did I do? I'll give you three guesses. Of course I went over my contract on Twitter. Bring on my bill O2.
I heard up to "Would wristband numbers 100..." before I legged it to the door, they could have said "Go home you're all too ugly for this show" and would've sprinted through the gate to the studios. After passing the Big Brother portacabins where @jonalmond works (I was the only one jumping with excitement over them...not literally jumping over them ...) we were through a door leading right to the studio, WOAH it was TINY. We were given two seats and just watched the others come in, and not a lot of people followed us, then we looked round and saw that at least 80% of the seats had white paper saying reserved on them, we were LUCKY to get in! My lucky bracelet was clearly involved.
We didn't even have to wait a long time to see the slebs and family piling in, I kept a beady eye out for Danny's fam (who I know) and found them sitting right beside us! Wahay, obviously more help from the bracelet. But (yes NOW there's a but) then we heard the annoyingly distinctive voice of Andy...the effing warm up guy...thank God he wasn't in our view cos we would have leapt across that ice, strangled him, and given him a £90 bill for Friday morning's taxi *glares hard*. After the boring ever so familiar *rolls eyes* Vegas dance and adverts game (people around us gave us strange looks when we imitated what he was about to say) the show began! Live on ITV1...bloody brilliant.
Although before the show began we were introduced to the people who hold the show together, all the judges (I had to restrain Mum when Angela Rippon swanned past us in that dracula outfit) Torvill and Dean, and Phillip and Holly. Oh. My. Days. Holly Willoughby is absolutely GORGEOUS. I was so mesmerised when I first saw her. Her figure, her hair, her features and her dress were so stunning I would definitely turn lesbian for her. No joke. Her and Phillip walked past us a lot during the show and there were loud sighs coming from me and Mum, her for Phillip and me for Holly. I adore her and love her nearly as much as Davina McCall.
In the breaks the funniest thing I saw were the make up girls running on and tidying up how the judges looked. They put a ton of make up ON JASON GARDINER'S HEAD. HAHAHAHA! I have never seen a funnier sight. And although I missed the Baftas, the award for cutest child EVER goes to India, Gary Lucy's daughter. She is ADORABLE. Screamed for her Dad when she shouldn't have, kept silent when she should have, and held her I LOVE YOU DADDY sign upside down during the whole show. Brilliant.
The thing me and Mum were most interested about was what on earth we were going to do in the hour gap between the skating and the skate off? We already knew we got free doughnuts (I love Elstree), and I was half hoping they'd put Wild at Heart on the big screen. They didn't. Instead, all the skaters came over to their family...right next to us...and there were no barriers in front of us...so after a few awkward glances Mum grabbed me and pushed me over to Dean Gaffney and Michael Greco for a photo. I didn't complain. Nom.
Then we just kind of hung around for ages, watching all these slebs push past us, literally, and Sharron Davies is a GIANT. Jordan, Claire and her fiancé came over to chat and tell us how Danny was feeling. Considering he got 17.0 for the fifth week in a row, he wasn't his best but we all tried to cheer him up and he did, and went back out smiling. As the skate off started the tension was building dramatically, and the breaks in between each skater being put through seemed an age, we were up and down like yoyos cheering and clapping, but Danny's name still hadn't been called, and when Phillip went to a break, we were shitting it. And so were the family. When we were back live, I was shaking uncontrollably and when he finally said "....Danny & Frankie!" I SCREAMED and jumped like a loon. LUCKY BRACELET YOU LEGEND. See, red bracelet, red wristband, and what colour was Danny wearing? Red. ;)
After the whole saga was over, Claire ran down and pulled us past the ticket lady who was filing everybody out. A quick "They're with us!" got us through and we got photos with Danny and managed to congratulate him. MUM got a hug, I DIDN'T. *strops* And I look rather shocking in the photo. OH WELL.
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And theeeen we got home at 11pm :) FABFABFABFABFABFAB! AGAINAGAINAGAINAGAIN! I love Elstree, roll on summer's Big Brother. X
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