Friday Falafel

Appetizer
On a scale of 1 to 10 (with 10 being highest), how funny do you think you are?

Given the title of this blog, it is difficult to know how to answer this question. Initially it was supposed to be followed by "and most of the time I don't even have that", but got lost in the ether somewhere during the change from diaryland to blogspot.

I get told I'm funny. Sometimes it's followed swiftly by the phrase "...for a girl", which makes me want to elbow people in the ribs and respond with "Thanks! You talk awfully well for a monkey."

I also, however, get told off for my sense of humour. The title 'Comedy Uncle Léonie' has been bandied about more than would normally be expected (for a girl). 'Dad Humour' is my favoured brand, it would seem.

I love jokes, I love making people laugh and I love finding things funny.

I'm not sure, on a scale of one to ten, how funny I am. Ten. No, one. Alright, an even five.

Soup
Name a local restaurant would you recommend to a visitor to your town or city.

This is actually a really difficult question to answer. For a start, London is huge and I don't go to the same restaurants over and over. Also I rarely go out to eat. The money thing, of course. Last night I went to a pizzeria in Angel (not you, Miss D), but I hadn't been there before. It was nice: good atmosphere; good service; good food at good prices. I wouldn't necessarily make an effort to go there again, though, because there are loads of places like that.

Hmmm. There is a place I like in Covent Garden called Café Mode. I went there for lunch the other week with my friend Gemma, and they were lovely. The food is really great and very affordable even for someone as broke as I am. The maitre d was so pleasant and friendly to us, and when we said we had to leave after just a main course he was shocked, offering us coffee on the house, or a glass of wine. We really had to go, but before we did he gave us a little card saying that, next time we're in there, we can have a complementary bottle of wine. I've been there on quite a few occasions, a date; drinks with a friend; a big engagement dinner. It probably isn't the most classy place in London, but I don't like places with pretensions, and this is just a warm and friendly place to be.

Salad
What's a lesson you were lucky enough to learn the easy way?

Probably being careful with money. I have fucked up more times than I care to remember, but even in the direst of times my parents have helped me and made sure I didn't get in trouble. Now I am more responsible, and on constant guard about how I'm spending my meagre income.

Main Course
Where would you like to be 5 years from now?

I don't know. Geographically I can't imagine that I'll have tired of London by then, I love it here so much. It's home.

Other than that? Who knows. I want to be singing for a living, but in what capacity I have no idea.

Dessert
If you could see the front page of a newspaper from June 2, 2106, what would you imagine the headline might be?

'World Peace: Exclusive Report On Why It's Working Really Well'.

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Other things that are working really well: My Diet. Except that when I say 'well' I mean 'rubbish'. I may have slipped in the fact that I went to a pizzeria last night. Guess what happened? It was terrible, right, because I accidentally fell over into a pizza and had to eat my way out of it! Would you believe that? No? Oh, well, it's my story and I'll stick to it until I forget what it was and then I'll make up something equally implausible.

I'm feeling marginally less stressed about the concert. Which, by the way, you are welcome to come to. It is, however, in Harpenden, which is in Hertfordshire. Email me through my other website if you are interested.

I really have not much else to talk about. I feel a bit dejected today but I don't know why. Tiredness, perhaps. I need to get organised for the weekend, which is looking to be a bit hectic what with all the rehearsing and telling people where to be at what time, and working out all the songs and all sorts of stuff. My brain doesn't work properly when I'm tired, it thinks all sorts of horrible thoughts and starts beating me with the big self-criticism stick. You're fat. You're ugly. You're stupid and useless and doomed to enduring failure. It isn't very nice to me, but I am at a loss as to quite how to shut it up. Any suggestions?

I'm not funny today, so perhaps the answer to the first question should reflect that. Sometimes I am funny, but then sometimes nothing is funny and my sense of humour drips out of my ears along with my brain.

Please help me feel less rubbish, Internet. I don't know how.