My Super Sweet 30th.

Only when you've got cancer and it's your birthday is it acceptable for your friend's husband to buy you knickers. It's a little-known present-giving loophole that Tills' husband Si took advantage of the other night when they gave me my birthday presents. And they're not just any old knickers, oh no. They're the Best Knickers In The World: a white thong with 'Mrs Dave Grohl' on the front. And,

My Super Sweet 30th.

By: Unknown on: 01:53

Papa's got a brand new brag.

Apparently it's worth putting on a bit of slap and a nice top to visit your local mini-mart. Last night, on my way round to the corner shop, I got checked out. And I didn't imagine it either. A bloke I was walking past glanced over at me (less glanced, more looked me up and down) and gave me a smile. (And no, cynics, he wasn't smirking at my wig. I know this because the shopkeeper commented on

Papa's got a brand new brag.

By: Unknown on: 06:01

Much hairdo about nothing.

I've spent years faffing with my hair. I've demanded impossibly high standards from it. (I'd better clarify that I'm talking post-school, by the way – 1990-1995 was a half-decade hair-mare. With that and the braces, it's amazing I ever got snogged.) I've blow-dried, straightened, sprayed, lacquered, highlighted, lowlighted... all in a quest for the perfect 'do. Newsreader hair, if you will. You

Much hairdo about nothing.

By: Unknown on: 08:00

Hi, my name is...

When I first met P, I hated him. I took his initial shyness as arrogance (I told a colleague he was 'practising to be a git') and did all I could to avoid him around the office. But that changed over the course of two nights. The first was a very VERY debauched house party at which I was introduced to absinthe and woke up the following morning draped over a boy on the kitchen floor (thankfully

Hi, my name is...

By: Unknown on: 15:02

Putting it about.

I've still not made my peace with the wig. I've moved it to the bathroom windowsill, given it a headband for company and stood my new wig brush beside it, but me and it are still a long way off being friends. We're sizing each other up. It's a Mexican stand-off every time I walk past the bathroom door.But I'm not wearing it. I've not even put it on once today, instead opting to leave the flat to

Putting it about.

By: Unknown on: 13:22

Does my bum look big in this?

As I type, I'm looking down from my bed at a foreign, furry, blonde rodent. Otherwise known as my new wig. It's balanced carefully on a stand on the floor and, despite the low light in here, it still looks glossy and healthy and wholesome. It's everything I'm not.

I've never felt further from healthy than I did last night. The nausea may have subsided, but the aches haven't. I was – and still am

Does my bum look big in this?

By: Unknown on: 14:24

This is a low (but it won't hurt you).

I once got food poisoning on holiday in South Africa after eating monkfish with olives. After an evening watching my meal reappear down the loo (or 'singing into the big white telephone' as my Dad would put it), I knew I'd never eat olives again. We've all got ruined favourites – foods that you've previously liked but, having had to taste them again in a not-so-favourable pukey fashion, you're

This is a low (but it won't hurt you).

By: Unknown on: 13:22