A single girl in a showbiz world

Tuesday 30 September
No alcohol today - I'm on target! Feel so much more positive when I don't drink.
I did slip up a bit on the eating front. But (a) it's hard to give up two things in one day. (b) I got sent a lot of free jelly beans and sweets in a guitar case to mark the re-branding of virgin radio to absolute radio - a pr gimmick - so it'd be rude not to indulge before I shared it out. (c) I went to the gym in the morning and worked so hard I could barely walk so I needed the energy.
Met up with a former newspaper boss for lunch, who told me there was a job at her place if I wanted it. To be honest I dont. When I leave print journalism, I wanna be on TV! But it helped my ego to know that someone valued me.
Otherwise the work day had one major highlight, (apart from the sweets), which was that:

I BLAGGED A FREE TRIP TO AUSTRALIA IN LESS THAN A MONTH!
Red Bull invited me to watch their Air Race in Perth, Western Australia. So I'll be watching their small planes compete in air-based loop the loop and chicane challenges and then going up in one myself.
Then I've got an extra week in Oz to do my own thing. In their summertime, which is perfect as I need a tan.

The lowpoint was that:
I had to go into conference today and made a bit of a boo boo by speaking to the editor when I hadn't been spoken to. Not a good move as it wasnt my place to butt in and I was made to feel small. Completely deserved it and lesson was learned - respect the editor. The overall editor is the only person in that place I do respect, but it's political to show I respect the hierarchy.

In terms of men, I'm seeing Sugababes guy tomorrow, (my ex who manages the Sugababes). So I went shopping after work and bought the sexiest high heels in the world - 5inch black PVC with gold studs dotted over them. I'm 5ft 9 so they take me to over 6ft.

Then I got a bit carried away while shopping and bought a strapless dress, leather gloves and black scarf. And then I picked up a cute pair of pink slippers when I was by the till....
But I totally deserve it. Cant wait to bump into the ex tomorrow. And when he asks if I wanna do something, I'll take great pleasure in saying NO

Monday 29 September
I get one day off a week, (because on Mondays I do freelance stuff on TV), and I felt like I completely wasted it on Sunday.
I came home from work on Saturday, went to bed at 9pm and slept until 930am. That was well-needed.
But by the time I'd done a 13 mile run in preparation for my race on 12 October, then ate breakfast, cleaned the house and gone grocery shopping I realised it was time to go out again. I stupidly agreed to judge a karaoke competition at a posh hotel becasuse I liked the old owner of the hotel. Something didnt add up when I spoke to the organiser of the actual comp, but i still decided to do it. But when I got to the hotel, I was informed the old owner had left. I had to spend more than two hours listening to terrible singers. I had to have a couple of glasses of champagne to get through it, (which isnt good as Sundays are my detox days). And then I got peckish and had some canapes. But it was so low-budget, they werent proper canapes they were sarnies with the crusts cut of. Ham and mustard, cheese and tomato and salmon and onion. Talk about retro.
I have to admit, I was quite rude and left before the winners announcement. But that was 1130pm and I was sooo angry with myself for wasting my rare night off.
The only good thing was I had a few minutes to write my lines for my TV project, becoz i needed something to take my mind of the dreadful singers.
Today Ive just been working on the freelance TV work, from 630am. Nerves overcome me on set, so I went to kfc on the way home and got some chicken and ice cream and washed it down with champagne. (Thank goodness I go running)
Best mate F texted me that her wannabe bloke kept cancelling lunch on her. But she could do so much better. He's married. She needs someone who loves her for her.
Thats what I need too.
But the plan of the week is to say NO to comfort eating and NO to too much booze (mainly becoz I want to be in optimum shape for the race)
And I'm also gonna say NO to myself when I get in a bad mood, (I make myself happy / unhappy) and NO to things that seem like they are a waste of time. This is a 'be good to your body and trust your instincts week'.
BRING IT ON!

Saturday 27 September
Writing this in the office, which is slightly risky, but I don't care what people think of me any more. Everything I have written is true and I stand by it. This is me - accept it.
All I've been thinking about all day while putting together my column is going home to sleep.
I used to think about love and romance and the other stuff every few minutes. Now all I think about is sleep.
Column looks ok with some decnt stories about Spice Girl Mel B and model Kimberly Stewart as well as the Kate Moss tale.
But every time I submit a story, I am petrified someone will take offense and sue me. It's the Saturday jitters. That's when I need a calm, rational man to take me to one side and tell me I am being a silly girl. And to occupy my mind with stuff other than work.
But I dont have one to call, so I have gone back to the chocolate. I discovered that the classic childhood chocolate toffee bar curly wurly has just 115 calories and takes a while to eat, (comforting). I had two - but thats just 230 calories, which is less than a bar of Cadbury's dairy milk and lasts lots longer.
Earlier in the day I had a giant white chocolate and raspberry cookie and then I ad a scone with jam as an afternoon treat.
Skipping dinner tonight though - straight to sleep.
Cant wait for my bed, as i keep saying, but feel bad because ive had to cancel a day out with F tomorrow. She wanted to meet in a pub beer garden to work on our man plan. But I'm too tired and too toxic, (full of bad food and several days of boozing).

Friday 26 September
Funny day as I am sleep deprived from the previous two days.
But still found energy to go out. Firstly because I promised best pal F that we would go on a proper man-hunting mission. (She wants me to put men before work)
Secondly because I wanted to get some material for a new top secret freelancing venture I am doing.
So I went to interview grime artist lethal bizzle at a gig at the royal albert hall. One of the other reporters asked him if he could get off with any girl in the world, who would it be. He pointed to me and I thought i might explode with a mixture of happiness and embarrassment. I could have capitalised on it afterwards, but I think I was frightened. So I didn't do anything like give him my number or anything - I basically ran away after I interviewed him and let someone else do their interview. For all I know he was looking for me and couldn't find me. (I can think that to boost my ego)
Went to meet F at a casino, because we thought it would be the perfect hang out for rich sexy powerful men. Rich maybe, but nothing else. F even ran into with one of her former snogs who was a complete freak. He scared her so much, we didn't even accept the drinks he wanted to buy us with his £2000 winnings.
We left about 11, and decided to go to a bar in Mayfair popular with hedge fund owners and city types. Rich - probably. Attractive - definitely not. F and I walked the room a few times and couldn't find anyone we desperately wanted to talk to. Everyone was in checked blue shirts and suit trousers - the city boy uniform - and their bellies were busting out, as they'd obviously had too many boozy lunches. The music was terrible, although some guys tried to sway to it. It was embarrassingly bad. Prince William and Prince Harry have been a few times, which says it all. I've seen them dance before and its not pretty, although William is worse than Harry.
So F and I go to Shoreditch House. The last time we went there, we had so much fun because we jumped in the rooftop pool. This time, it was a different atmosphere because it was a friday night. There were lots of groups of friends, a few gay couple but no men in the mood for conversation / fun. F and I were sat watching a group of 5 guys play pool, but not one was up for starting conversation.
F and I ended up playing dominoes. Rock and Roll (not). At about 1am I decided to call it a day and cut my losses. I don't mind going to work tired if i get something out oof it, but it wasn't happening that night.
Set my alarm for 730 before I hit the sack at 145.

Thursday 25 September
My plan was to go to a party with Orlando Bloom, go home early and get some sleep.
I ended up in a West End nightclub getting abuse from Kate Moss and her crew until 330am. And then having a nightmare journey home involving a hot advertising exec and a shortage of taxis.
Taking it from the top, Orlando's party was dull. He turned up to the launch of a new property development party thrown at the posh Hempel hotel, then was surrounded by bodyguards and refused to talk to any journos. (Point of him being there - none at all)
I'd dressed up in a super slinky dress to meet Orlando, so I stayed for a bit afterwards to see if any of the men checking me out were hot. They weren't my type.
But on the way home, I decided to pop into the Met bar. Paul Weller's son Natt was DJ-ing, and I wanted to check out my competition as I have DJed in the Met before.
When I got there, the night turned dangerous as I bumped into my DJ booker Ashley and his mate from Amsterdam, Snapey.
Snapey works with all the best footballers like Beckham and Lampard, as he makes adverts for Adidas. He had lots of hilarious tales and he is super trendy in the way he dresses. Totally my type if he was slightly taller.
Anyway, the met bar wasn't kicking, so we get in Ashley's merc and drive to the exclusive members club Bungalow 8 in Covent Garden. Breeze straight in - ashley is a member - and get some vodkas in. Kelly Osbourne swans in with her bloke, but I dont even try and talk to her after our recent punch up. But then I get a text from another nightclub promoter telling me kate moss and jude law and more are in his club Vendome. I knew I had to go.
Look around for ashley and he is snogging someone, which totally shocked me as he is maried and i thought happily married. (Love in showbiz never runs smooth)
Snapey looked bored so he said he'd accompany me to vendome. Saw kate moss kissing a bloke - amazing story for me - and when she left the club we celebrated with a glass of champagne.
Managed to bump into the guy she snogged again on the way out (lucky) so I decided to take his photos. Snapey was so shocked i was such a ruthless journalist - yet again i put work before impressing men.
We got into a cab on a high and he wanted me to go back to his hotel because it was his last night before flying back to amsterdam tomorrow.
I was all up for it - we drove off and kissed in the car. Then I started thinking about how I was due at work in just over 6 hours time. (I get in the office at 10am). A wave of tiredness came over me. So yet again work came first. I made the cab let me out.
What was I thinking? I was on Portman Square alone at 330ish in the morning. And I had to walk for quite a bit to Berkley Square in Mayfair before I found a cab. Think I crawled into bed about 4am. Alone again.

Wednesday 24 September
Had a great day apart from one minor drama before lunch. Lets start with that - get the bad stuff out the way and end on a party high.
Im slightly embarrassed to admit it but a delivery of flowers to my newspaper offices went so wrong, I burst into tears in the ladies loos. (Like something out of a dodgy rom com movie)
At about 11am, I had a phone call from the receptionist saying I had a deliver, which I had to collect. I was abut to go to the lifts, but the editor came over to my desk and we got in a conversation. I forgot about the flowers. Twenty minutes later, I got another call from reception. The flower delivery guy shoved them in my face and had a massive go at me, blaming me for getting him a £60 parking ticket.
Then i looked at the card on the bouquet and they were from the pr of a band who wants me to write about the band. Why can't I get flowers from a hot man?
Then I got even more upset when I realised that I'd never be taking them home. Because I go out literally every night, to about two or three parties a night, I would definitely lose the flowers en route home.
Cue me -0 in the ladies - sobbing about how I wanted to be at home in bed, with a nice man baking for me....
But I pulled myself together. Back to work. Went to a store party at the Links Of London jewellery shop in Chelsea, then to the gig of new singer Katy Perry. Met up with an old pal Jason there, who I roped into taking a photo of me and Katy.
Then Jason and I chilled on the roof of Shoreditch house members club, surrounded by the stars of the new British movie How to Lose Friends and Alienate people. (By that stage in the night we couldn'tbe bothered talking / working)
Jason and I have known each other since we did Maths A'level when we were 18.
Motto of the day - men aren't all arseholes, only the ones you fancy.

Tuesday 23 September
The postive thinking thing works! Started the day with an hours session in the gym - very nice. Did 25 mins on the treadmill, 15 on the cross trainer and then worked my upper arms with some weights. The whole body workout was good.
Was quite productive at work - suggested some ideas. And then i got in contact with some tv companies (because I'm desperate to get out my current job).
Went to lunch with a colleague who's leaving tomorrow. She's just got married and realises there's more to life than work. I realise there is more to life than work theoretically, but practically I cant seem to make the men thing work...
But lunch was nice and at her leaving do later that evening, I looked around at my colleagues and thought 'at least my life isnt as bad as yours.'
I'm young (ish), talented in several areas and optimistic rather than negative like them. I know that I will find a man eventually and be happy, but they are so work-obssessed and negative they will never be happy. And thats sad.
They go through the working day being miserable, rarely get out in the evenings and on nights when they do they turn on charm to women in a desperado way. A couple really flirted with me tonight. They are 30-35 yr old men, quite ugly becoz of the long days and boozy lunches/nights and completely desperate. Shoot me before I get like that!
Tonight I did the flirt and destroy tactic to boost my ego. Had the news ed of the daily star sunday eating out of my hand. But I didnt comply.
At the end of the day, I like myself more than I like them. I left the leaving do at about 930pm, went to asda on the way and bought myself a mini bottle of champagne.
I'm drinking it now. Love my own company sometimes.
Just goes to show, even news editors of national papers are not happy.
But I am and I am gonna stay that way. Go me! I
ts gonna be a busy couple of days at showbiz parties, but I'm mentally and physically strong.

Monday 22 September
Yesterday was positive enough - my morale was boosted my a charity concert Jude Law organised to promote World Peace Day (yesterday). Annie Lenox and Lenny Kravitz were cool, but best of all was summer of 69 and Bryan Adams. Nobody can be depressed when listening to Summer of 69...
Afterwards had a bit of flirtation with singer John Legend, and didnt throw myself at him (bonus). Then my ego was boasted with flirtation with a photographer (although he's not my type).
Earlier in the day I did a 13 mile run in 2 hours, so I'm in shape for the half marathon on 12th October.
And Im in shape for any hot men to come across my path. Bring it on!
Maybe its time to give NME guy a little 'hello'?

Saturday 20 September
Confession - I've been too depressed to blog for ages. No man action, what's the point?
But there's even less point felling sorry for myself so I'll get it out of my system now and turn over a new leaf tomorrow.
The man action has been so grim, I've even started throwing myself at random celebs.
I went to Naomi Campbell's charity fashion show on Weds night and met singer Taio Cruz. Though he was quite hot and then thought I was in there when he said he kept in shape by 'sexercise'. I wanted to drag him home and help him keep his figure right then and there. Then about 5 minutes later, his girlfriend came back from the loos. Dammit.
The next day I met trhe Pussycat dolls at a gig in Brixton. Their manager Jeff was so Hot. We got on well, he approved of my sexy outfit that I'd put on to hold my own with the dolls. But in retrospect, the dress was quite short and the heels were veryt high. I had to walk up the stairs in front of them and that didnt work out so well. Dammit.
Met Lewis Hamilton, race driver, the same night. Towered over him in the high heels. Yet another fashion disaster.
Even worse was later that evening I met Kate Moss and her hairdresser James Brown at members only nightclub Bungalow 8. He inched my bum. It hurt and he is gay.
Friday was yet another fashion week party, posing round. And tonight Im writing this in the office where I will be until 11pm.
So plan is straight home, early to bed (for me) and then a long run tomorrow. Life can only get better...

Weds 17 September

NME man is going to be a long project....But it is hopeful becoz
(a) he sent me a text to make sure I got home ok
(b) he invited me to Southampton to learn how to drive a speed boat. He needed a girl to take for a feaure and I am that girl. (So I know he doesnt have a significant other)

So the date was as follows:
I blagged two tickets to the premiere of Tropic Thunder. It wasnt easy - I literally had to beg the PR and then get to the cinema before him to pick them up. We saw Jack Black, Ben Stiller and Robert Downey Jr introduce the film, which was quite cool. Then the film was hilarious.

But in retrospect, a cinema is not a place to seduce a man, particularly straight after work when there hasnt been any boooze involved.

Then I had a choice of after parties and I lost it a birt as I couldnt decide. We went to soho house in the end, and had some snacks / couple of drinks. But definitely chose the wrong seats as we were opposite each other on a table rather than next to each other on a sofa. There are so many things to think of when seducing a man.

So next time, on our boat trip, Im gonna so work it. And work out beforehand so I have a fit body for the wetsuit.

It's going to be a long project - that date is in October - but its a personal challenge.

Monday 15 September
Forgot to say Maxim man called and left a voicemail. I can't be bothered to reply. He should call a dirty phone sex line instead.
There havent been any other straight men recently, because it is fashion week, dahling.
Although I do hear music producer Mark Ronson has split from model Daisy Lowe. He was looking pretty hot, when I went to his 33rd birthday recently. I wouldn't say no...

Monday 15 September
Back to work tomorrow - straight into London Fashion Week. Five years ago, I'd have been so excited I couldnt sleep. Now I am so stressed about it I can't sleep.
I don't know if my body is strong enough to run round town for the next 4 days, surviving on fizzy mineral water (if Im lucky) and maybe a few glasses of something alcoholic at the end of the night. (There's never any food except the cereal bars that I load into my bag)
But I've had a good week off. My parents took the family to Claridges today!! My sister Joanna is back from Qa'tar for two weeks, so we pushed the boat out. It was pretty good value - 30 quid a head for the set lunch and we drank mineral water. And completely worth it - every single morsel was divine.
Starter - mackerel with crispy duck, cofit of egg and crispy leaf salad with mustard dressing
Main - pan-fried gurnard with scallops, citrus veloute and cauliflower
Pudding - roast figs on pain d'epice with ginger and blackberry ice-cream.
Plus bread as a side and petits fours afterwards.
Forget NME man, I need to date a chef at Claridges. But the latest with that is it is our date tomorrow. So I sent one text to check it was still on. It is - he's emailing me tomorrow to confirm details. I'm going to squeeze it into fashion week events somehow.
But still no kisses in text messages YET. There will be...

Sunday 13 September
Saturday started well - did a 10 mile run in just under 1hour 45, so I am on target for a good time in the half marathon race that I'm doing on October 17.
But then booze and men got involved again.
It had to happen. I DJed with best pal F at the Met Bar in London's trendy Met hotel, (the place that used to have the Gallaghers and the Appleton crowd in the 90s). We were on from 11pm - 3am, so we needed a few glasses of bubbly to keep up our energy levels.
Throughout the gig I was getting texts from men that couldnt be arsed to make it. Even Maxim man called, (so I just made out I couldnt hear him). So I needed the bubbly to inspire witty responses to the texts / calls from the useless men.
The strangest call was from Sugababes guy, (he's in the girl band's entourage). I havent seen him for ages because he can't have a normal relationship. He's desperate to get me to have a threesome, and even though I work in shallow showbiz, I'm really not that kind of girl.
He hasnt left me alone all weekend. ASking me about a 3some with F (as if), then commenting on photos I'd recently posted on facebook.com, then asking if I remembered various intimate moments we'd had. The man is sex crazy, and he's obviously not getting it anywhere else at the moment. It's really sad because he is 34. All the Sugababes can manage settled relationships despite touring, so it's about time he did the same. He's lost his chance with me though - NO WAY ON EARTH.
So after the Met Bar at 3, F and I try to continue the party in Hoxton. We'd heard there was a trendy warehouse rave, but we couldnt find it. So we sat in the reception of a trendy hotel, the same one I'd woken up in with two other girls earlier this week, and shared a half bottle of Moet as a nightcap. And for flagging energy levels, we bought a bar of Dairy Milk each.
Put the world to rights, got a taxi home and fell into bed at 520am. Then I had a haircut at 12 noon, which I was 20 mins late for so I only had time for a blowdry. That was traumatic. Almost as traumatic as the fact that Sugababes guy won't leave me alone...
NME man - 3 days to go!

Friday 12 September
Maxim man is such a loser - no calls since our weds rendez-vous. Quelle surprise.
So I went all out to forget him last night. I went partying in Shoreditch, snogged a tall, handsome man and partied til 5am in a hotel room. Woke up with best pal F and another girl in bed feeling grotty surrounded by empty champagne bottles. Dread to think how many alcoholic units I consumed.
I started off well behaved. Since I'm off work this week, I might as well try and be a bit healthy coz I dont get a chance normally.
But the evening went downhill after I met CJD man. He was tall and handsome and a pal of F's bloke so I was intrigued. We chatted, drank, danced and kissed.
Conversation started off well. He's totally non-celeb - a web designer. The only celeb link is he lives in Camden, just behind the Hawley Arms where he used to drink with Amy Winehouse. And works on Gt Portland St near Radio 1 where he sees sone cool music artists and celebs every week. (This week it was McFly and TV's Kelly Brook). But when the conversation moved on to exercise and then to giving blood, he dropped a bombshell.
He said because he had a blood transfusion for an accident before 1995, he wasn't allowed to give blood because there was a chance he had CJD. Mad cow's disease.
How do I meet these men?
Drank a lot more champagne, chatted to the girls all night and woke up this morning feeling rough.
Had a day of eating junk and watching TV. Its almost 9pm now and my hangover has almost gone.
NME man - still resisting the urge to text. It's 5 days til our drinks. Hair cut on Sunday in preparation...

Weds 10 September
Had a Maxim man change of heart. He sent me a photo and had a rather nice six pack. It was lust. I invited him over. We kissed. He's just left.
It's not terrible - just kissing and I enjoyed it. But I should have probably spent the time sleeping because I know I'm unlikely to see him again for ages.
And I dont see the point in occasional kissing unless he has something really fab to offer me.
I actually went on a date earlier tonight with a man that does have more to offer. This man works in private equity and his uncle has shares in the best nightclubs in London like Annabels and The Buddha Bar.
He is a perfect gentleman (bought me flowers), very intelligent and obviously rich. BUT he is a weirdo when it comes to his family. Especially his UNCLE. Call this man UNCLE GUY.
Tonight was the second time I dated him and he's lucky I agreed to it. Because last time, he called me an hour before and said he was bringing his uncle and his uncle's mate on our date.
And on this date, he started talking about how worried he was about his younger sister. Sweet but not very sexy.
Hence why I invite Maxim man round.
Please, please, please let it work out with NME guy next week so no more stress. I've been good and havent contacted him yet. Make him want me and all that (I really hope)

Monday 8 September
I'm off work this week, so this blog wont be as exciting in terms of celebs.
But I reckon I will be a lot happier.
Had a GREAT day - ran 13 miles this morning. I'm doing the London royal parks half marathon on 13 October, so I decided to run the whole amount today. Took me 2.5 hours but it was my first ever try.
In the evening I had a pollo pizza express plus banoffee pie with mates -I deserved it.
And then I stood up for myself when it came to another man I met recently. This is Maxim man, (works at the men's mag Maxim). I've only met him once, when he took my number, and since then he wants to talk dirty on the phone. What's the point if we never get to meet? So i said I couldnt be bothered.
And an NME update - we have a date to meet. Drinks on 16th September (a week tomorrow). I just asked him what he'd been up to in a text and then suggested a meet. So happy he agreed, but not happy he didnt use kisses (x) in the text messages. Normally a x means keen...Saying that, by the time he's been on a date with me there will be a lot of kisses.

Sunday 7 September
After the mega sunday lunch, I had 30 mins of thinking time on the train back to London. And guess what I thought about - men.
As I sat on the evening train alone surrounded by couples and families, I asked myself if there was any guy in my life who I could see myself being a girlfriend to. And I reckon there is.
My plan is to invest some time chasing him and start thinking about him sometimes rather than work, which I think about a lot of the time.

I've fought for my career, now it's time to fight for a man.

Let's call him NME man, because that's where he works.
At the end of every blog, I'm going to put in an NME update.
But at the same time, I'm not cutting off my options. If another hottie crossed my path in the meantime then BRING IT ON.

Sunday 7 September
Back to the suburbs for family lunch. It was my bro's 20th birthday on Friday and because my sis is living in Qa'tar with her long-term boyfriend, I thought I should make the effort. Only a 30 minute train ride from Euston, but you may as well be in a different universe as it is so QUIET.
We had a massive lunch. A bit unconvential for a Sunday - my brother got to choose as it was his birthday and he wanted TGI Fridays!
Over shrimps, chicken, chips and veg followed by dirt cake (chocolate cake with mousse, popcorn and oreo cookies), we had plenty of time to chat.
And my mum, who married my dad at 30, told me she was worried I wasnt 'living the moment'. When 90% of my life is good and 10% is bad then I focus on the 10% bad. I feel ashamed - a life of drinking champagne, eating posh canapes and seeing movies at premieres rather than paying for a cinema ticket isn't that bad.
That's what I'm gonna tell myself next time a 'celebrity' is rude and offensive or my editors shout at me for leaving a party at 2am rather than 4am.
But I'm still going to moan when I get home at the end of the night. Seriously, showbiz isn't that glamorous.

Just so you know - I am a showbiz journalist. That's why I get invited to top parties (yay) and spend most of my life working (boo).

Saturday 6 September
Crawled into the office at 9am still recovering from Thursday night's excesses (delayed hangover) and didnt get out until 730pm.
Nightmare day deciding what to put on the pages, with lots of different hierarchy telling me what I had was just about acceptable (that's a compliment) or rubbish (the usual reaction)
There's more humour in a funeral parlour. If it wasnt for the top editor, who is an inspiration, I'd have quit ages ago.
The highlight of my long day was a new lawyer, who is covering the holiday leave of the usual guy. Definitely a bit of flirtation going on there. That is until I had to eat lunch at my desk, (dont get a chance to leave my seat on Saturdays), and the lawyer saw me when I had a chunk of Leon coleslaw hanging out my mouths. Not a good look.
Plus I have bags under my eyes from the week. Instead of getting an early night last night, my LTL (long term lover) wanted to talk dirty on the phone.
LTL and I have known each other for five years, though different partners. He has one now, I don't but he says he loves me in a different way to his girlfriend. Why do I put up with it? I wanna be his girlfriend.
Conversations with him leave me feeling worse than before he called.
I deserve better.

Friday 5 September
The reason I didn't blog when I got in last night is not because I found a handsome man, but because I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer.
It wasn't spectacurlarly late - about 3am - but I had been up to Buckinghamshire (by train) and back (by bus). All for the 33rd birthday party of a well-known music producer.
Anyway, party was quite decadent - absinthe jelly, mini burgers and fish and chips. Free-flowing champagne, vodka, gin and whisky and lots of cigarette smoking.
Plus the fancy dress, which was a terrible idea. Girls look hot in fancy dress. Men either dress up as women or hairy animals and look ridiculous.
There were a couple of blokes dressed up as lily allen, some amy winehouses and even a bjork (the theme was album covers.
I dressed up as Pink - Get The Party Started. Jaime Winstone (Ray's daughter) told me she loved my skinny jeans and stripy top but I loved her Sex Pistols inspired union jack dress much more. She rumbled me straight away and didn't tell a soul.
Then another PR recognised me and threatened to chuck me out. I had to hide in the loos for a bit (further reducing my chances of pulling). I missed the cake shaped like a stereo - so annoying. Missed the speeches, missed the performance by Kitty, Daisy, Lewis. Missed the music producer dirty dancing with his young model girlfriend, who wore an amazing Kate Bush tiger catsuit.
Then when I did get back down everyone was way drunker than me and I stuck out like a sore thumb (AGAIN). So I got spotted.
A PR threatened to call the police and some security goons dragged me to a tiny room. I had to explain myself to two people and they threatened to take my camera away. I told them they couldnt search me, resisted their bluff about calling the police and they let me go after about 30mins. It was quite terrifying with them all yabbering on at me how it was just a quiet birthday for a hard-working man, (sob, sob - not)
So my mate and I swiped a bottle of champagne and we had a fair bit of it on the bus back to Mayfair, shared with some young male and female models. All under 20. Dressed up stupidly.

Wednesday 3 September
Im never gonna get a man unless I learn to say no to parties or I get more staff. The trouble is I never know who's going to be where so I end up running round town and never enjoying myself where I am. I'm always anxious, even when I'm talking to a hot man.
Take the first event I went to tonight - a party showcasing a new album from singer Anastacia. Her radio plugger was quite hot and he invited me to a gig for one of the label's other artists that night. I would have gone but I had it in my head that I had to attend other events.
And the othere events weren't even that good! I went to an opening of a new museum, where Katie Price went. She's looking a lot prettier now her boobs are reduced but shes as prickly as ever. She will pose for photos but won't answer any questions. But I do like her hairdresser and her hairdressers husband. The husband, an interior designer and I, had a great chat while Katie strutted her stuff, stayed for 45 mins and left (wonder how much she got paid for that?)
My new gay mate said I was too beautiful to be single. I know that, but there are only so many men around if you follow celebs all night.
As proof of that, I bumped into one of my exes at that party. He's in the industry and still looks quite cute despite the late nights. He grabbed my hand in a dark corner and asked me to stay for another drink. But yet again, I was concerned about lack of stories and decided to move on.
After collecting my goodybag (very odd slime gel and a Guinness Book of Records) I went to an after-party for the premiere of The Duchess movie starring Keira Knightley and my mate from last nite, Dominic Cooper. Keira was straight in the VIP area and wouldnt come out while Dominic wasd mobbed and in a 'work' mood rather than a naughty mood like last night.
So I stayed about 10 minutes before going to Punk nightclub. On the way I got the taxi to pull up to a newsagents so I could get a Yorkie. (Chocolate is almost as good as sex)
Punk was busy with tredy London teens and early 20 somethings who were going mad. The person (call her EI) who I was expecting to see wasn't there and so I decided to leave at midnight. I don't mind cute indy boys but I do mind partying hard on a weds when I still have thurs and fri nites to go.

Monday 2 September
How can a girl fail to pull at a party celebrating male achievements? Where all the men are dressed in tuxedos and knocking back champagne to celebrate their win?
Answer no 1: Becausue most of the men have brought their dates
Answer no 2: The ones that havent bought their dates have brought their mums (Gavin and Stacey comedian James Corden)
Answer no 3: I am too interested in chatting to people to get stories for my column and come across as 'unavailable'
It's a lot of no1, a bit of no 2 and lots of no 3.
The problem is I've done this job for 5 years, and so when I meet people at parties my instinct is to grill them rather than let them know I am single.
Take Steve Coogan. He was definitelt flirting with me when I asked him about his new stand-up tour. We stood shivering on the balcony, but I felt completely unaffected by his charm as a voice in my head said 'how can we make a story out of this?'
After I'd finished with him, I stood by the escalators where stars were leaving the dinner to come to the party at the royal opera house. Spent a good 15 mins seeing 'not yet made it' celebs like Nick Grimshaw (Radio 1) and Will Young (made it but not coole enough), before spotting Denise Van Outen and deciding to take the plunge. After talking to Denise about her TV show, chatted to Tess Daly about her and Vernon and then talked to their openly gay PR. What am I thinking?
But the night got better as I spotted actor Dominic Prince - star of History Boys, Starter For Ten, Mama Mia and the Duchess. We chatted for ages, he was laughing at me and looking in my eyes. We ordered 'off the cocktail menu' demanding a vodka tonic with FRESH lime and clinked our glasses to the success of us.
But then he was mobbed by lots of blonde girls and used the same charm on them. I felt a bit stupid - I thought and hoped I was making an inroad with Dominic.
So I left just before 1am, without saying goodbye. Whats the point? (I know my attuitude is wrong but I clearly didnt fancy him enough to make the effort and we all know men are lots of effort)
His film premiere is tomorrow night. I'm going.

Tuesday 2 September
Went for a 'showbiz' lunch in the trendy Hoxton bar and grill - ie a bit of fish and a shared bottle of Riesling white wine.
My 'date' was the PR for Girls Aloud and The Pussycat dolls. We talked fashion, our favourite grooming ranges and the merits of keeping fit by walking to work / going to the gym.
But my date isn't interested in women
It seems like the most of the men I meet swing the other way these days

At least I got some stories on the girls out of it...

Monday 1 September
It was the Restaurant of the Year Awards at the posh Grosvenor House in London, which started very promisingly.
I'd dressed up for the evening in a gingham mini dress with a black lace trim, worn with 4 inch Nine West sandals. And every man in the building turned their head to look as I walked in.
I made the most of the champagne reception - one of my favourite parts of an award ceremony for ease of mingling. A lot of the time, I just do champagne and no dinner.
Resukt no 1: Tom Parker Bowles remembered me from when I was at the Mail on Sunday and we had light flirtation. (He's married). But got hime to film a slot for my website
Result no. 2: Met a cute chef from a restaurant called Hibiscus, which is one of the top restaurants in London. He gave me his card and invited me in.

Then it was dinner time and I was placed next to a 40 year old chef from a restaurant in Twickenham (in the sticks of London) and a restauranter from Canary Wharf (enough said). No wonder I dont stay for dinner when I have tables like that.

Food was v meaty - salt beef and bean salad, followed by Partridge. Desert was the tiniest ever piece of blueberry cheesecake so I was hungry.

I left before the awards ceremony coz I was so bored and hungry, but had a minor rush when somebody tipped me off Guy Ritchie would be celebrating his 40th birthday in a Mayfair pub. I like masculine men and Guy Ritchie's mates would be that.

But when I get to the pub, it was obvious the tip off was wrong. Ended up sipping a diet coke at the bar on my own while texting the person that gave me the dodgy tip off. Does drinking diet coke count as drinking alone? Yes. At the end of the night, it means I'm back home alone with a few words of banter from the cab driver.

Better luck tomorrow
x

Friday 29 August

I owe this blog to the daughter of a rock star and a tv personality. The girl in question slapped me round the face in a packed nightclub and made me question why I work as a gossip columnist.
Do I make anyone happy? I certainly don't please celebrities. Nor do I please my editors, who think no story is ever good enough. Occasionally, a minor PR is happy with me but there's only so much Red Bull a girl can drink. (After a few plugs in my column, I have 4*24 cans delivered a month).
The worst thing of all is that I work so hard I have no time for a boyfriend
This blog is going to document my job - good and bad. I might read it back and appreciate what I do. I might wanna quit.
But the blog will last at least until I find a decent TALL man. I am 6ft in heels and I'm not going to lower my standards.
Let the writing, and man-hunting, commence...
x