It kills me when actresses give interviews saying things like 'well, as an actor', implying they take their art sooooooooooooooooooooo seriously, whilst simultaneously, prostitute themselves for cosmetics companies because 'they're worth it'.  And yes, we are all aware of the irony of you selling youth creams when we're pretty sure you've had 'work' done.

Why is it, that the fashion press can see someone walking down the street and quite clearly think 'fuck, she looks like a bag lady', but when it comes to someone in the public eye that everyone is supposed to think is the most amazingly stylish person, they become the most sycophanthic people on on the planet?

Someone once told me that the difference between feeling down and being clinically depressed is how you feel in the morning.  With the former, you feel like you cannot get out of bed, with the latter, you often cannot get out of bed. I am not depressed but I was feeling blue all day yesterday.  This morning I woke up and thought I can't get out of bed but I did.  What it bought to mind was how people who are depressed manage it.  Without it sounding trite, I want to send a big hug to all those people who struggle with depression,  who manage to get out of bed and function at all, on a daily basis, and a gentle pat on the back for every hurdle they manage to get through and for every difficulty that they fight to cope with.

I finally caved in.  After months of walking past it in the supermarket, picking it up, putting it down, thinking 'this is a fucking ridiculous thing to be eating', it came home with me yesterday.  Yep, you know what I'm talking about.  That new spread that is basically, well, crushed biscuits in sweet butter.  I kept looking at it and kept thinking 'this is just wrong'.  Have we run out of things to eat, have we completely exhausted all possibilities.  Was jam, honey, peanut butter, marmite, fish paste, marmalade and sandwich spread  just not enough for us?  Did someone in marketing have a light bulb moment, 'I know what no-one's thought of yet, let's crush biscuits in butter because peoples arteries haven't quite furred up enough yet, there's still room for more damage'.  But in case anyone's wondering.  Sadly, it was yum!

I think it's time that someone asked the question, just what school of journalism did the writers of the Daily Mail celebrity pages attend?  I would give you some examples, the descriptive ones are the worst, but I am too scared that I might vomit.  Reading them, yes I admit I am addicted, is bad enough but typing them, would just be way too much.

Something is troubling me.  In the grand scheme of things, I know that it's not that important but hey, most things that bother me aren't.  It's a certain look that's most prevalent at the moment amongst girls and women.  I suspect it comes from TOWIE but seeing as I don't watch it, I can't be entirely sure.  Scouse brows, hair extensions, fake looking nail extensions, madly out of proportion breast implants, fake tans, massive tattoos, lined lips and I think probably the biggest offender in my book, the false eyelashes closely resembling fat furry caterpillars, glued on badly.  I know that there are lots of different looks sported at the moment and thank Christ for that, but this one's out there.  And I can see it.  ALOT.  What confuses me about this look the most is that over the years, a lot of looks have come and gone and we looked completely unattractive with some of them, remembering the punk years here, but the intention was never to look sexy with that particular one whereas this is meant to be an overtly sexy look, at least I think it is.  Jury's out on that one.  I mean is it, have I got it all wrong?  Are there men all over the land thinking 'wow, I can't wait to run my hands all over that', or is it that men are thinking 'well, it's that or nothing'?  If I was a bloke, I think I'd be declaring my celibacy right now.  Or considering men.

As females, we spend a lot of our earlier years wanting to share our lives with that special person and children, achieve it, then spend a lot of our remaining years, whingeing about how much they irritate us.  Why is that?  And marriage, what's that about really?  When the institution was invented, life expectancy was about 39, if you were lucky and don't think people spent that much time together.  And why marry at all?  Maybe the desire to have someone 'take care' of you is stronger than the urge to shag whoever you want, or maybe that just gets old.  Or we do.  Not jaded, just interested.  And when I say married, I include people living together.

'Is everything we care about just a distraction from the horror of existence?'.  I came across this the other day in reference to how much we worry about 'stuff' and it made me think.  Well is it?

I have just finished a massive declutter or a cull, whichever way you look at it and feel I have come close to a meltdown and am about to break out in hives.  It's time to accept folks, I am not like normal people, but I have to live amongst them in a normal world.  Have you any idea what that's like?  I wonder if it's because I live in a house that I don't like therefore making me focus on 'the stuff' filling it.