Sweetie darling

Well, well, well - here we are, several weeks lapsed between posts. And sadly nobody to blame but my own sorry self.

Last week, for what must be the first time ever in my career, I had a totally PR experience. On Wednesday night I went along to help with the ING end of season F1 party and (after a few short hours of standing around in the rain with an ING umbrella) found myself sipping champagne with the stars. Well, not that many recognisable stars but at least more than I have previously been in the same room with, B-List or eitherwise. Then the following day, I recovered from a somewhat distinctive headache by going to a long schmooze-fest of a lunch. Beats carrying boxes around and getting shouted at on the phone, which is what my job usually seems to entail. No doubt it'll be another five years before it happens again.

In terms of other recent activities, October saw me whizzing off to Cardiff for Jamila's birthday and helping her cater a dinner party for a dozen guests. What seemed like a daunting task at first turned out to be absurdly easy - once I'd delegated all the hard bits to my minions of course.

November saw me back again for an evening with Bill Bailey. Lionel Richie is a horse-faced drivel monger. Apparently.

In other news I have finally managed to return to going to Ceroc on a regular basis - strictly speaking, perhaps a more expensive hobby than I should have considering the state of my credit card bill but if I looked at it that way, I can barely afford to stay home and watch paint dry, so it's not much of an argument.

The end of the year is nigh and I am off to the sandlands in two short weeks. Plans for nails, coffees and massages already in place. Hurrah!

Flatmate Nick called Claude and Eustace fat the other day - my concern at the idea of leaving him in charge of them while I'm away steadily grows.