30 December - Dogs

They love their dogs in Mexico but perhaps the standards of care are not up to European sensibilities. My friend keeps rescuing some from abandonment, under-nourishment and so on.

tbc

28 December - Beach advice

Well, I have one piece of advice I stick to religiously when on holiday: no photos for the first few days, till you've caught the sun, started to look healthy. And then photos are only allowed when a little lipshine has been applied if nothing else. Trust me, it's amazing the difference the shine reflecting off your lips makes. It lifts up the photo to magazine shot. If you can curl your eyelashes that too... lifts everything....

However, I was not prepared for discovering that not having gone to the gym at all for the whole of December and part of November (my gym buddy/motivator has slacked for her own reasons and being devoid of committment myself, I followed suit), meant I looked like shit even without fearing any photos. It's amazing what happens. I didn't go mad at Xmas, hardly that, but just eating as normal and not exercising and there you go, fat thighs. Ok that's what sarongs are for, but I never find one I like.

26 December - Cold spells

Ah the joys of a Manchester London done in 3 hours on xmas afternoon. Nobody on the roads, not even the police. Counterpointed by arriving to find boiler does not kick in and one has to wear the new Xmas jumpers and scarves and go to bed early and cosy up.

But what bigger joy than wheeling your suitcase down an empty road on the way to an airport, on the way to brilliant sunshine? Can't beat that feeling, can't beat winter holidays! Nothing will ever make me be here at this time. Hasta la vista.

24 December - Sun & Snow

Don't know about you but this month has not been great, in my case due mainly to erstwhile profligate and irresponsible banks lending to all and sundry and now refusing to lend to 'low risk' people such as moi. No debts, no c/card mountains of debt, large equity in property and not even a flat screen TV yet just because they're chucking them at you cheap. Oh no, I'm business as usual ie. careful and a saver. But asking them for 100k seems to be taking weeks to sort out. Couple that with job insecurity and I've had the first sleep interrupted nights of the decade (splitting up from boyfriends no longer keeps me awake at night much when it happens).
It also means I've run out of time to do a number of other things and that's also kept me out of the mass hysterical thronging of shops shouting to the four winds that all is 70% off. I find this depressing. A quick w/end to northern Italy has revealed that nobody there has any sales or distressed selling of anyhing because there, unlike here, people are not borrowed to the hilt and before they buy a property very wisely they're asked to have saved a 40 to 50% deposit towards it. Hence the phenomenon of 30 somethings still living at home whilst they buy BMW's instead of saving for a house. But by the time they do so, their ageing parents near retirement or already in retirement, find a way to relase some of their cash and hey presto, the happy house hunter puts 75% down and really is laughing as carries on with his/her regular spending. Not a bad financial model. Couple to that the everyday tax evasion and they're really in a better place right now, notwitsanding the usual crap TV and a prime minister wiht a facelift, hair transplant and so on.

But where was I? Yes, finally today I can think about packing and my conundrum is that am heading to Mexico but stopping for a few days in NY on the way back and am not sure which part of my wardrobe should suffer by looking worse. The sunny, lenghtier period which may well include a visit to Havana/Cuba or the NYC few days. I think it will have to be NY as a) the clothes for freezing weather take up more space and b) I can always buy something there. After all, since they started this all recession, their sales should be 90% off! We shall see.
Mexico will be great, since 2 party loving friends are already in situ and gathering fun cohorts for me to associate with when we arrive.

And a question of etiquette. Should I get in touch with the brother (and his family) of a former girlfriend with whom am incommunicado since over 2 years ago? I have no beef with him or him with me and in fact we're very fond of each other though have not really talked in this feud time either. He lives in NY, I hardly ever go to NY and have never in fact been w/o seeing him. But, former g/friend is out ther for the holidays too so he'd have not to mention he's coming to meet me... Mmmhh what to do? Let it go? Seems a shame...

23 December - Condi oh Condi

Went to preview of friend's film charting the love obsession of a fat comedic actor with a good voice who is trying to woo/get to Condoleeza Rice as he's in love with her and as no known boyfriends of her exist (or g/friends) he may have a shot. It's a long journey during which he meets some people who know her or have written about her and gets to sing his songs. It veers between wanting to be Borat'y (the writer/director is in the shots often enough and at one point nakedly chasing the lovelorn Condi pursuer) and wanting to shed some light on Condy's secret life as a failed concert pianist who ended up as the most powerful black woman in America after Ophrah and before Michelle O.
Er.. it sorts of works but has a limited shelf life and with no distributor in sight I dread to think.

We're meant to go karaoke afterwards but this being just before xmas, nobody is up for it and it gets cancelled. My B/F's ex turns up as the lights are dimming and has no choice but to sit in the seat in front of his, and she makes every possible effort to squash her large spiderish or camel-ly shape (yes, I still can't see the attraction of octopus long limbed woman myself) into the smallest size che can manage. When the lights go up she studiously avoids my B/F and goes to talk to Mr Director who I also go to say goodbye too whilst making sure she notices how much I look like Gisele Bundchen today (clothes wise) and whilst I notice that her hair is always in silly girlie bunches on the sides. I mean, she's pushing 35 so they have to get a bit more under control no? Anyway, I'm sure she doesn't give two shits about me or him but you know... I like the desert between my beloved and any ex. Plus I've been there, ie. in the avoiding an ex in a room with just a dozen people. It's kind of funny to practice and you know if Ange and Jennifer can play that game after 5 years since he changed camps, I can enjoy it too. I'm Ange btw, do you need to ask?

20 December - Le sex c'est chic

Occasionally I should pay tribute to the boy who provides me with everyday good humour, fun and sex. I keep thinking this cannot be right and surely it should be a downard spiral with relationships waning in intensity but Toph seems to climb new heights as we go along. So thank you darling for exceptional standards of sexy time (to put it like Borat). And thank you to my best friend who always gets it right with gifts (yes, I have already opened her xmas gift). This time she gave me what is clearly a very stoosh and elegant piece of beachwear that can double up as evening wear. But upon removing it from the package to show Toph, I could see his eyes light up and thought, but of course! Nightwear!!
Clearly I should wear tops slashed to the waist more often. Or to the back too since my back is a major turn on to him. Let's just say that though black is a bit of cliche' colour for him in the bedroom and he prefers kaleidoscopic missoni style mixtures, this top paid for itself ten timesfold (well it was a gift so even better).
As you know I go a little coy when it's about my exploits with the boyfriend, so I have to leave it there. But darling, bring it on!

18 December - Jim Caveziel & Tiga

Nothin really, I don't know him but I fancy him like mad though he's in precious few movies. I happen to see on TV a not so good one with him and Jennifer Lopez, Angel Eyes or some such. He plays outer worldy quite well, it was him on Thin Blue Line wasn't it? Love that film though right now think I got the title wrong.
Anyway, I am looking and looking at him on TV and then it hit me. The lovely Tiga/super dj I love, has the same haircut!!! at least on his record covers/wigs and all. It's funny as it's a sort of Beatles cut and I absolutely loathe them and that cut on them. Sometimes you find you think these things and you wish you could investigate your own psyche a bit more to find out why. Anyway, Jim, I salute you cause you're stunning. The eyes too! Wow!

12 December - Chefs & Science

Only last week I was sort of dissing a colleague who was so excited to go and have lunch at a special do with Gordon Ramsey which, on top of ludicrous bill would for the actual cover price of however much it is, £100 or so, also get her his latest book. She was like a little puppy and I was like 'god what is it with these people?why do they get so excited about chefs and overprices cookery book porn?'

And so it was that a mere few days later I went for lunch at Marcus Wareing at the Berkley, where a long time ago I had a memorable meal but I suspect the incredible wine had something to do with it and the frisson of erotic charge since after dinner the inevitable would have happened with that particular man. Whose name I can't now remember, typical.

Lunch was excellent and the best part was that the maitre d' took us to the kitchen (I was about to write 'backstage' because that's what it is) and upon entering, there was Marcus in the corridor taking a minute to himself and I ended up gushing something like oh my god you're the best. At least he's not a prat on TV. Must be what I hate the most about his erstwhile friend Gordon.

The main fact I gleaned was that recession means that there are no tables of 8, just lots of tables for two lured in by the great £35 set lunch (like er.. us, though if you get then charged a fiver for a coffee you can see they make their money back) and secondly that between them in the kitchen and those out front there are about 2 staff per each customer and it shows. It was flawless. So really I should not resent how much food costs in a top restaurant.

Even more so because next door practically at Harvey Nicks, we run into an old colleague of Toph who had to quit television becuase of lack of work and she took a dive in her earnings by switching from production manager to sales assistant/manager. So there she was and in all the time she talked to us, she never stopped taking money from customers of which there was a steady stream. All buying £200 of this and a £100 of that (I kid you not, there is a face bronzer by Chantecaille that costs £100. I repeat, a face bronzer). As this young lady with a wallet full of fiftys nearly left w/o her change so loaded was she, our new best friend told us 'you should have been there last wednesday when I took £8k off one woman'. I said 'you what? what did you sell, the entire stock?' . She said no, she took me to the shelf with the products made by plastic surgeons, you know, science face creams at £300 a bottle of ... serum.. you can't call it moisturizer any more. So I could see how you can get to £8k kind of in half an hour. She then proceeded to add that this woman paid in cash and she spent a good while counting freshly issued bank packets of fiftys. Money laundering or what? I had to ask and yes, the lady was middle eastern, what else in knighsbridge?

She also said she uses the stuff everyday herself as it's there on the shelf but that she doesn't believe it's what will give you great skin. How refreshing. It's water, and what you eat and your genes. She heaped us with samples and off we went. Suddenly I think that having lots of people slaving for me in a restaurant is immensely preferrable than spending that money on a pot of something greasy. What a con the skincare industry is. What an absolute con. There goes my old grandma with just her nivea and she was fab.

5 December - Tigs

Is it possible to be happier? At 3.30am I shared a car to his hotel (but not to his room) with my favourite DJ, Canadian beats merchant Tiga who had played a pretty darn good set at The End for preceding two hours. It was not an easy set till an hour from the end when he gave us some tunes with the odd vocal. He doesn't like the room and neither do I as he has a large pillar in front of the dj booth so he can't really see the crowd. I should have gone to some darker corner at the other end of the room but I stuck to behind the booth so you sort of don't really get the right vibe.

For anyone who thinks the dj life is an easy lark, money for nothing and so on, it isn't. The boy had arrived that day from Toronto and after dropping off for a couple of hours at beautiful Browns Hotel of which he saw just the bed briefly, he was being picked up at 6am for the first flight out to Moscow where he had a Nokia gig that night. I'd have loved to get on the same flight but only because it was a novelty for me, if i had to work a gig, well, I'd have just to be thinking about the cash I was getting paid and the fact I'm promoting my new album "Mind Dimension" for you folks who want to check it out, because otherwise the stress on my body from lack of sleep would send me demented. And his poor manager Oliver had to do the same trip of course. Reminds me of the good old days of FBS and his mate Ginger Tim who was essential company on those gigs. You just can't keep going otherwise. Well, you can, but it fucks with your body eventually.

So, as I excitedly told my friends, Tiga now knows my name. How cool is that? Should we meet again, he'll say hello Lisa and I'll be just elated. Thank you I. for making it possible. And thanks D. my disco granny friend who was having the working day fromn hell that day (sacking people at Wapping and making the figures balance and vomiting from the fear) and let me down for the gig. If she'd been there, I'd have gotten a taxi with her instead of taking advantage of the lift. But major shame that I just didnn't have it in me to carry on, not even for a proper drink/chat with I. who was shattered from the night before. The little minx had gone to the Girls Aloud party at the Berkeley post Nobu and so it is that she confirms that Ashley Cole is very very short and so I don't fancy him any more. I don't really but mmmhhh. The same evening another friend snogged a 22 year old up and coming singer songwriter. She's 43? I love those sadie frost moments I can't have any now but bring them on fro my friends.

Other reason to be happy is that the gorgeous R. who came with us to Tiga is making me a compilation. One of those old fashioned things! aaaahhh, can't wait. Has to be said that I had earlier in the night left him talking to this other lovely canadian woman S. friend of friends who's here to study fashion branding/marketing blah blah and he was clearly taken. Well, she's 26 and she's hot. They could be very happy together. He's going to ask her out. Awww..... I better not say anyting about this on and off thing she has with some son of some major fashion label person in Paris. He sounds like a dick so let's hope R. will get her away from that.

We'd gone to an art thing in the East End where one of the works was by an erstwhile lover and you know what? The piece didn't speak to me at all. Once upon a time I'd have read god knows what into it. But I bought something else instead.

3 December - The Burbs

Something wrong in the state of Denmark when I go to the Burberry sample sale courtesy of a friend who works there and I don't find a single thing I want to buy. Have the scarves and the mac already. Nothing else calls my name. There was a lot of old cobbler to be honest, you know, the padded signature jackets but about 3 years too late to be on any trend unless you're buying for your auntie who lives in Hong Kong and treasures these bits of expat stuff. I did like a short jacket/mac with very gaudy gold buttons. Inside me there's an 80's flashy girl but... I put it back on the rack and haven't missed it. You know, that was always a sign. Thinking about the item you didn't get for weeks after you missed out on the chance.

Anyway, a little later my friend who works there calls to say she has kept some handbags which were previously around a grand and she'll sell them for £300. I tell her no, there is a recession, the bastard dollar has gone too high with the pound and I'll need my cash for mexico and NYC. However, you can never say no to these things so I will go take a look. But yes, recession. Spent a couple of hours last w/end photographing some designer handbags that a friend wanted to ebay. Took ages as it's more complicated than you think to have the bag look like it does when Grazia take the photos. The simple thing would have been to photograph one of us holding it but we were in one of those can't be arsed moods and wearing hideous clothes and clearly the bags would not have looked good against us. I did however trek them all into work to see if anyone wanted them here but the verdict was no. Mostsly on account of money anxiety sweeping the nation. So if anyone wants a couple of marc jacobs, some old prada and miumiu and a topshop clutch and some French Sole blue ballerinas size 41, a McQueen tartan dress size 12, Get in touch. I don't know who has the time to do Ebay but taking the photos was boring enough and I can't imagine how tedious it will be to load them up, write the blurb etc. The funny thing is that when something becomes old or unloved by you it really isn't worth much, so can you be arsed to sell it for £30? Given that I take stuff to carboot sales and sell it for less than a quid you'd think yes, but I find that easier to do than this process of one by one. oh I don't know. Am having a downer because I also took photos of some of my clothes. Now it's finally the time to let go of the biking leather trousers (worn very very few times as know nobody with a bike) from 15 years ago. But now of course who'd want them? The saddest ever thing about them is that they have a 24" waist. That's 24" folks. Yes. And I had trousers that were smaller than that. and that' a true 24" not a current let's call it 24" but it's really a larger size than that cause women have got bigger. Am not majorly depressed as I wearr 26", 27" now, 28" is too big but you know, those were the days. I got those trousers to match a lover who was often in leather gear and they sort of remind me of some gig we went to pretending not to be together but probably being very obvious. He was married, some other audience would have been our co-workers. mmmhh

2 December - Boots & Pads

No the boots made for walking but the chemist shop. Tell you what bugs me about age (#754 of infinite things). Having to buy sanitary pads/towels whatever you call them when I don't know when /if the darn thing called blood will happen again. There was an offer of two packets for ££2.00 instead of the individual £1.50 so I wasted 30 seconds thinking I should get the 2 packets or save the 50p and just get the one as it will probably last me a few months at the rate of current menstruation becoming scanter and scanter due to egg shedding being minimal.... It would be fine if it was just a question of blood but it isn't. The mood alters whether the period releases the pressure mental and otherwise.. or not. So you don't really win anything.

1 December - Memory & Aids

I receive an email from former flatmate of over 20 years ago with whom I keep in contact a few times a year and see maybe twice a year or so. She's telling me she's off to Tokyo for most of the holidays and how are you and can I take a look at their new website etc.

She's put on copy someone called A. probably because she wants to let him know the same information. It takes me ten seconds to remember who this guy is... Some really really young guy I met a party at her house maybe 5 years ago? He was so full of himself that I found his energy quite a turn on and told hime to ring me. He did. I invited him over, and I think he liked the fact he didn't have to go through any courting/dating ritual before having a pretty memorable night. His opening words were along the lines of 'I'll do anything you ask me to do'. Oh yeah? How about ... and so on. And the best part was that he was off a few days later to South America to go visit the on and off g/friend he had proposed to. Think he had worked in treavel and met a colombian, bolivian, peruvian woman, can't remember, who needed marriage before being allowed into the country. And so I never contacted him again, nor him me, bar a late night phone call later on but you know, I don't do booty calls anymore. It was just one of those ones where I had to prove I could get someone twenty years younger and he had to prove he could be up to scratch to what he perceived as a different level of sex action.


I'm having trouble even picturing his face, I just remember he was wearing jeans and a white shirt and has dark hair. But beyond that... nothing. Funny that. I should really have started taking a photo or two of people in the last ten years as memory does dramatically decline for all type of information unless it's in your face every day and even so... Becks kids are called Brooklyn, Cruz and there's another one... ah, Romeo. See, there should be a switch somewhere that asks you 'Would you like to hang on to this memory/infomation or would you prefer to switch it to something more useful/relevant to you personally?'. But would I want to remember more about this guy A.? Actually no need ....