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Dammit!
Don't you just hate it when you spend ages painting your nails for an interview and then you burn the tip off one of them lighting a nervous fag?
Anyway, hi kids... missed you all heaps... Need to catch up on the goss...
I've had a fairly normal week all in all. Hung out with Joan Rivers PA who had had so much surgery he couldn't actually move his face - but gave me some great makeup tips if I ever decide to give up corporate hell and become the worlds first female drag queen. Reims was fab, much champagne was drunk and I now consider myself a bit of an expert if anybody wants to invite me out for a bottle or two. The trip was slightly ruined when the French customs tried to throw my parents in jail for fraud, but my school girl french saved them a life time of pain et eau and it all turned out fine (small tip - don't ask the French Customs 'why?' at any time unless you are prepared to be thouroughly searched in a small cupboard!!).
I got very drunk at the weekend (I know I know we've talked about this) and much to my concern woke up on Sunday with two lesbians that I appeared to have rescued at some point in Old Compon Street. Now nothing happened but they scared the life out of my flatmate... much explaining had to take place over a few rounds of who wants to be a millionare and hang over gin at the local pub.
About to update my CV now - so let me know everything I have missed
D x x
PS Mr X got back from yachting yesterday and I am like a nervous excited school girl with a crush after the summer holidays - I hope he still fancies me - best not to tell him about the lesbian thing though - even though it was very innocent - it might give him the wrong idea x
Don't cry for me Argentina
I got an email yesterday the gist being....
Dear Daisy
I have decided to move to Buenos Aires
Love
Mr X
Now - turn away if you are easily upset by bad language
FUCK THE FUCKING GODDAM SEAHORSE!
Actually the email its self was 3 pages long, very sweet and claimed not to be a 'dear john' letter. Yeah right - it was one of those emails that makes the person writing it feel really good and the person reading it really helpless. THEN I had to go straight to my interview after reading it - I can imagine the notes the lady interviewing me made 'moronic candidate, twitching and red eyed - unable to anser any questions including her name'.
What makes this worse its that I have now been dumped for America, Canada, New Zealand and goddam fucking Argentina.
Straight after my interview Beth poured a bottle of red wine down my throat and told me to take to higher ground. Which I am doing by, erm doing nothing.
Oh well... time to be single again I think.
Pass me the fucking chocolate and the friends video.
D x x
This is getting silly now
So E4 (I swear this is true) called me yesterday whilest I was eating chocolate watching Beverly Hills 90210 and periodically screaming 'fuckwit' (and crying at Scott Scott's funeral - tragic).
They asked me to take part in a dating programme on a desert island that is being filmed next week. I have just been to see them to discuss it and I am thinking about it... last week I had a seahorse and the week before a job, but right now I can think of nothing better than a healthy dose of reality TV and champagne.
They are thinking about it too as I exlained that I wouldn't do dangerous sports or wear a bikini - so watch this space....
If I take it - I get a three week holiday for free in the sunshine (at a secret location) and a chance to forget about Mr X. I am emailing him today to let him know (its only fair). I have to decide by tomorrow...
I am a little raw and exposed at the moment - is it a good idea to share it with the nation?
D x x
Well...
E4 called today to say that they really wanted me to do the reality TV programme we had discussed and I said yes, because frankly taking risks is what life is all about. Also if I do look stupid then it will only be strangers who think so because my friends know and love me for me regardless.
They are sending me the contract today special delivery. It is nothing to do with lapdance island (for those who were concerned) because we all have to meet at Heathrow on Wednesday to be flown to a secret location... they just wouldn't go that far. My screen test didn't involve any naked people either!!!
I am really scared though - suddenly about midday I went from laughing and thinking it was funny to a cold sweat of dread that I had just made a huge mistake - but my friends reassured me that they think its funny and I should go for it... now I just have to decide who to be (secret temptation to stir up heaps of trouble and be Nasty-Daisy).
The bad news is that they are taking away my mobile and I am allowed no contact at all with the outside world (a la Big Brother) and so I won't be able to keep you all updated as to what is happening... Gutted - still you can help me prepare and I promise to try and mention you on TV (give me a code word to say!!).
D x x
PS The Seahorse was informed and said that he wished he could stop me going - but just didn't have the right to - ha ha - that will teach him a little lesson... Mess me around and I go on National TV to declare my singleness to the world - especially funny as he has been doing that annoying boy thing of texting me niceness all the time - just to keep me hanging on!
So then...
I'm sorry I didn't write yesterday but I have been doing serious battle with the producers and lawyers on E4 about my contract for this new reality show I am going to be in. I CANNOT believe that people actually sign these things I really can't. Basically I was going to sign to say that I was happy for them to dig around in my past and the past of everyone who knew me and that they were allowed to make stuff up about me and broadcast it!! Erm hello?? So they could say ANYTHING about me and there would be nothing I could do...
They have now removed this clause after hours of tense negotiation. At one point I didn't think I'd be able to go! God, people must want fame to sign that!
The thing that amused me most though about the contract is that they have the rights to any merchandise that comes out - imagine that! Little Daisy-dolls for sale for £3.99 in London... Hmmm I think I'm getting a bit ahead of myself perhaps...
My father is very unhappy that I am doing this - he thinks I am bringing 'shame on the family'... he keeps asking me why I feel the need to be filmed 24 hours a day and have a pin microphone wherever I go. I can't explain it and I don't really know - as I pointed out they persued me to be on the programme not the other way round... it just seemed funny really.
Also I have this need to prove that I am here and to leave something tangible and concrete for people to know that I was alive. I want to make a small splash before I go. Reality TV and a blog may not quite be on Marilyn Monroe or Truman Capotes level, but at least this way I know that I am not one of those grey people I see in the tube that could disapear without a ripple.
Be prepared...
is my new motto - and as such I have been shopping all weekend for new PJ's, nice knickers etc etc... Have my collection of Marilyn postcards to put on the wall of the reality TV compound and my hair straighteners packed and ready to go... I also have my peroxide ready in case I actually last the whole three weeks...
I just found out too that the programme I will be on won't be on our screens until January/ February because its not real time - so you won't all be able to vote for me... I wonder thus how the selection process will work?? Oh, and Keith you will know me by the fact that I am the tall blonde surrounded by Marilyns who keeps saying 'Spragging'
)
On a different note completely - I have had the most lovely weekend. It was one of the kids that I used to teach 21st birthday and we went to a fantastic local church hall party back near Liverpool where I am from. I love parties like this - a healthy dose of cheesy music and many good looking young whippersnappers there to take me for a spin on the dance floor (and clubbing afterwards which unfortunately ended with me having far too much champagne and standing on the bar of the lcoal club singing 'You're so vain' to the owner who is a mafia boss... not so clever).
I have this one little boy (well 18 year old boy) who is unbelivably beautiful and terribly shy. He is (in the words of my sister) like a small pet to me. Bless him dearly for whenever I come home he never leaves my side. Just sits quietly and drinks champagne with me and lights my cigarettes while all of his mates down pints and hang out on the dance floor chasing Britney-esque women. I had him with me until 5am on the party night... as my mother says, maybe I protect him, because nobody will take me on.
Anyway, I have to go for a quick lunch with the parents now and then catch the train to London to hand deliver my contract and doctors cert and make the last few preparations for Wednesday... AAAggghhhh!!
Just conning myself really....
I have just eaten a giant bag of yogurt covered raisins from the health food shop in Bond Street tube station... They were quite nice and at the same time as eating them I had this smug feeling that I wasn't earing a Mars Bar or crisps and that I was being pretty healthy (despite not being able to loose the 10 pounds that the TV will put on me by tomorrow). Anyway - having brewed my tea and switched on my PC I chanced to glance at the back of the packet... Dear god - I might as well as had a deep fried mars bar and a KFC bargain bucket!! Now all of these fat little things are swimming around in my stomach, giggling madly and aiming staright for my hips... Honestly - I can feel them! It's times like this that I understand my father saying I was a bulimic who forgot to throw up....
Plus - I suddenly have developed 14 year old skin - I have about 6 spots... well, tiny little blemishes... Where from though? Where? I haven't been in London this weekend in the pollution, I don't eat fried food - its not my hormones (as far a I know) and so once again it is just my body being a bastard and trying to upset me.
It's working too....
