Scott Palmer, dapper eConsultant, is back in town. We went to dinner at Belgo's, new Belgian cuisine in Covent Garden, then sat on Lance's roof garden drinking American beer and gossiping about people we knew. Lance's friend's boyfriend is best friends with an old colleague. What a wierd small world.



Tonight it's off to the Donmar to see Betty Buckley.

I did something I didn't think I would -- I called in a vote to have someone evicted from Big Brother. And simply because the other nominee was cute. I've now confirmed that it's an evil thing.



But seriously, to think of the ways that a tv programme is going to alter some people's lives for the worse is frightening. This isn't entertainment, it's the equivalent to psychologically stalking someone. I didn't like Nick, but hope he has the sense to sue them for ruining his life.

Hi blogger. Sorry I've been ignoring you.



Let's see. Booked my trip to Paris today for the bank holiday. Two and a half days of shopping, winetasting, and muddling through with my appalling French. Should be fun! And will be a nice break for the tedium of rainy weekends in London.



I'm now fixating on moving to Islington. Going this weekend to check out streets and see where I want to live. I'd like a nicer, cheaprer flat in a cool neighbourhood. Oh, and a trendy boyfriend or at least a periodic fling! That's not too much, is it?



Had dinner last night at an Asian restaurant in Maida Vale with Niamh and Rob. Had a couple of glasses of wine and became Chatty Cathy, but don't think I said anything embarassing.

Madonna named her baby Rocco. Eeek.

The Weekend Report

Friday night went to the pub with some people from work. Met a man does casting adverts intent on picking up one of my co-workers. He was, however, good company and kept us amused and in pints for the evening. Then went to Spice Grills and had a curry and drunken conversation with our MD (always a good idea.)



Saturday did some shopping and cleaning and a very long walk in the sunshine, and framed the new print of Shaftesbury Avenue in the 1950's that Annabel gave me. I like it because there's a 14 bus (that runs near my flat) and a play called Hippo Dancing on a marquee. Sunday, I got adventurous and went for a hike around Richmond until it started to rain, then chatted online with a Danish man who may or may not be coming to London.

Had a brilliant night last night. Our editor's boyfriend let us take a tour of his workplace. The HultonGetty Images library is one of the largest collection of photographic images in the World, and their Paddington warehouse has millions of catalogued photos, daguerrotypes, plates, and negatives. We got a brief history of the collection, a tour of the vintage rooms and workstacks, and beer! We looked at original Cecil Beaton prints of the Royal family and Vivien Leigh, 19th century Punch editions, and a 1870's San Francisco panorama.



We then went to some tragic bar and drank vodka martinis until midnight. I love boozy olives.

Why do smart, sarcastic, caustic men appeal to me so much?

We had a freak rainstorm today. It rained, biblical rain, in driving sheets that flooded streets within minutes. Kind of exciting, except now it is going to be hot and humid.

Who wants to be a big survivor?



What the hell is happening to television? Apparently, people are finding real people more interesting than fictional TV characters. Big Brother in the UK is just unbearable. I tried watching it and found that I just really wanted the whole compound to explode in one fireball taking those annoying people with it into obscurity.

Saturday night, on channel 4, there was a documentary on the life of Bob Marley. I'd forgotten how amazing reggae music is. So I'll work the rest of the day with Bob Marley on my headphones and a slight boogy in my step.

Today's the Queen Mum's 100th Birthday. It was also Liza Tarbuck's last day as host of the Big Breakfast. Guess there's no reason to not be at work on time anymore.

Our London office celebrated its first anniversary party with a blowout at the 10 Room in Piccadilly. Salsa music, free beer and wine, and the press! Could have been a tricky situation, but fun was had by all. When the pictures are up I'll post the good stuff. Then some friends and I went to Cafe Boheme where I continued the doing damage to myself trend by switching to vodka at 1am. Not feeling at all pretty this morning!

I have a headache and am meant to be writing an outline for a mentoring programme here. I guess writing that "giving a sh*t about people is a requirement" isn't appropriate.

The NHMM site, the perfect accompaniment to the mullet.

Had dinner last night at Jason's, a seafood restaurant on the canal in the lovely Warwick Avenue. Warwick Avenue, known as little Venice, is a neighbourhood of stately white homes and Georgian row houses. It is also home to a species known as "trustafarians." Rich, young, white people who live off of their trust funds, but have bohemian pretentions.



The food was lovely -- monkfish and crab meat in a creamy sauce. Highly recommended.

I don't know if this is real or not, but it seems that the Web will smell.