Hi Diddly Dee, an Actor's Life for Me
"Those who agree with us may not be right, but we admire their astuteness."
Cullen Hightower
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Apparently...
...laughing at one's boyfriend when he goes to bed in a sulk about the football is not appreciated. Oops. *giggles* |
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1.7.06 22:55 |
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Apparently... (part 2)
...a man's good humour can be restored by building a makeshift fence in the back garden out of iron bars and large sticks. He's positively gleeful about making the foxes' access more difficult. In the meantime, I had Pimms for breakfast and am therefore giggling like a loon. I love summer. |
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2.7.06 11:10 |
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My Mate Sondheim
Ladies and Gentlemen, let me present two strange bedfellows: 1 Stephen Sondheim I went to see Sunday in the Park with George at Wyndhams last night and I was really hoping that this might be the breakthrough show that proved my dislike wrong. It's had fantastic reviews and I'm a fan of Daniel Evans, who plays George, so the stage was set for a good evening. In many ways, it was a very good evening - there were excellent performances from the entire cast, the show had been thoughtfully and humourously directed, the story is great and there were the most amazing special effects. Unfortunately, however, none of these points were enough to get over the sheer boredom of Sondheim's knowing erudition. There's very little I dislike more than someone trying to prove how much cleverer they are than everyone else, and unfortunately that's what I feel Sondheim is doing with his writing. I think I shall stick to just spreading my Marmite on toast in future.
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6.7.06 22:44 |
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Brand Snobbery
For the past month I have been blind-trialling a new foaming moisturiser. I was reading Vogue the month before last and was sucked in by the promise of a free goodie-bag and the possibility of my words of wisdom *ahem* appearing in said glossy magazine, so decided to give it a go. I sent in my details and promptly forgot that I'd done so until the package arrived a few weeks later; however having just run out of moisturiser it arrived at a very opportune moment and I decided to give it a go. I must say that I was pleasantly surprised by it - it comes in a pump applicator like the ones that styling mousse come in, and my skin really did look and feel better after the first week. I was given a diary to fill in, crammed with leading questions which clearly indicated to me that this was a product for *coughs* older skin. Not that wrinkles are generally my problem - spots have been much more of an issue recently, which is depressing when you're nearly 30, but I digress. Still, it seemed to be doing good things so I carried on with the trial, always spurred on by the thought of getting my goodie bag at the end of the trial, and hoping that it might be a Clarins or Estee Lauder product. Imagine my disappointment, therefore, when the freebies arrived this morning and they turned out to be Olay products. Imagine also my utter horror when I read in the letter that the new moisturiser will retail at £24.99. Twenty-four bloody ninety-nine?! It's a nice moisturiser, but, to be frank, there's no way I'm paying that much for Olay. Clarins, yes, but Olay? Olay still has connotations of grandmothers for me, no matter how much they try to rebrand it with funky packaging. It would appear that I really am a brand snob. If anyone needs me I will be partaking of retail therapy at Chloé and Christian Louboutin and having an Elizabeth Arden facial before drowning my sorrows in Bombay Sapphire. |
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8.7.06 17:23 |
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When I Grow Up...
I long to be elegant, but it's one state that I don't think I will ever attain. I can do well-dressed and fashionable if needs be, but elegant has always been a tad beyond me. There's a certain je ne sais quoi about some people that marks them out as being that little bit more striking than us mere mortals. It's not necessarily beauty - Leslie Caron, for instance, is not beautiful, but she most certainly is elegant. Nor is it the actual clothes that they wear - my friend Liz manages to look elegant even in cropped trousers and a teeshirt, damn her! It's something about the way they hold themselves, the way they move, the way they wear clothes. Being slim helps, as does being tall, but neither of these are enough if you don't have that certain something else. That indefinable aura. I do wonder if elegance is a slightly old-fashioned trait. I don't mean old-fashioned in a derogatory way, but I really can't think of many modern women in the public eye who are elegant in the same way that, say, Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly were. Modern clothes don't really lend themselves to it, to be honest. Catherine Zeta Jones is probably the closest we have to a modern day elegance, and her style owes much to the 40s, with perfectly waved Veronica Lake-style hair and classically cut dresses. However, when I searched for her on google images I found many, many photos of her looking utterly dreadful and very far from elegant, so I have dismissed her arbitrarily. Sorry, Cath - them's the breaks. One day I hope to discover the secret of true elegance, and when I do I plan to bottle it and keep it close to my heart. One day... |
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11.7.06 10:45 |
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London Gunpoint Muggins Soar
So says the Evening Standard today. Now, I do agree that gun crime is the height of stupidity, but somehow I don't think that's what they really meant to write... |
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13.7.06 18:34 |
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Friday Funny
A cowboy walked into a bar and ordered a whisky. When the bartender delivered the drink, the cowboy asked, "Where is everybody?" The bartender replied, "They've gone to the hanging." "Hanging? Who are they hanging?" "Brown Paper Pete," the bartender replied. "What kind of a name is that?" the cowboy asked. "Well," said the bartender, "he wears a brown paper hat, brown paper shirt, brown paper trousers, and brown paper shoes." "How bizarre," said the cowboy? "What are they hanging him for?" "Rustling," said the bartender. |
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14.7.06 15:21 |
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