Don't Talk To Me About Life

I was nearly killed by Valentine's Day. I was on the tube and some guy "accidentally" whacked me with an oversized bunch of flowers. If they had been roses with thorns it could have cut me. If one of the thorns had tetanus on it, it could have killed me.

Nobody thinks of the innocent victims.

I got a card, which was nice. It was in a red envelope, which was also nice. I also ate some Maltesers and watched CSI (two episodes) so all in all it was a successful day. I could have rounded the whole thing off nicely with some cheese, but everybody knows that cheese after chocolate is unethical.

Speaking of cheese, I am going to Paris soon. My Impish Little Sister lives there, of course, and the other day she sent me a text message saying the following:

"Hey miss léonie head how are you? What are you doing from thurs 29th march until 2nd april? Can i send you tickets to paris? Love impish xx"

Partly I love her because she doesn't use text speak. Partly because she is my sister and I can sometimes borrow her clothes.

Primarily, however, I love her because she says things like "can I send you tickets to Paris" and she isn't even toying with me to be mean. Hurray!

It will be her birthday on the Sunday, and she is organising an event entitled "Cabaret Trash", with bands and acts, and I will sing! I want to do dirty lounge jazz. In a long black dress whilst lying on a piano. With martinis and men fanning me and perhaps stroking me, although maybe that would be taking the 'trash' element slightly too far. To make matters considerably better, my older sister Alex will be coming as well, and we are booked onto the same Eurostar there and back. What larks shall be had! My friends and co-conspirators Chris and Dan are hopefully coming too, provided that I hassle them enough.

I met up with bloggers the other day. For drinks. Betty and Mr Angry and Greavise, all of whom are twinkling away prettily in the links section. Also present was Bec, of ex-flatmate fame. She counts as a blogger despite not having written anything on her site since the dawn of time. For the sake of nostalgia I keep her linked as well, and she has recently resolved to write some more so I am hanging on for that. The drinks were very nice, and the company delicious. There was slightly less talk of nipple tassels than last time, although more talk of big plates that vibrate and whether a Valentine's Day text message is quite getting into the Proper Spirit Of Things.

Tonight I am going back to see New Producer. Well, I am going back to look at the coffee machine, really, but if there is some music going on then that'll be all the better.

Today, I have been informed, it is sunny in Paris. Sophie is happy, and I am trying to make plans. I shall go running and make them. Then tomorrow I get to go for coffee with Andre, which is lovely. On Saturday it is the birthday of my friend Max, who is delightful and in whose honour I shall drink wine.

I am hoping that this Sunday the silence won't get me, but, as always, I wait and see.