What's A Girl To Do....?

Dear Bat For Lashes,

You make me want to wax on, wax off, paint the fence and sand the floor. You make me want to ride a bmx with a gang of rabbits. You make me want to dance through the streets of London with a pretty feather head dress and a devil may care attitude. But most of all you make me want to download your new album....

Yours sincerely,

Summer Holiday...

Dear Miss Universe,

Stick to looking pretty, ssshhh not another word now, hush...

Yours sincerely,

Spring Has Sprung...

Dear Charity Shop,

Well you certainly welcomed me to London in style didn't you? What's that you want, a nice spring jacket? Why certainly Madam, how about this little number from Armani with a slight 80's twist that looks like it was made to measure? How about your straight up and down frame getting a little Jessica Rabbit in the middle? A nip nip, here, and a dart, dart, there, here a pleat, there a pleat, everywhere a waist, waist! How about we call it even at £22.50? Oh yeah, the smile, we throw in for free...

Yours sincerely,

Buzz...

Dear Electric Toothbrush,

I cannot take you anywhere. The shame of it, the absolute, mortifying shame of it. You may have thought it was funny to go off in my suitcase in the packed lobby of a very nice, very busy hotel. I found it not so amusing. Who knew a toothbrush could make such a whirr? Who knew a toothbrush could make a case shake so violently? Who knew that I could turn such a fetching shade of red as I scrambled to open my case prove to my laughing colleagues, that it was in fact an implement of oral hygiene that was causing such a commotion? It's not even the first time you've displayed such behaviour, one more incident and I'm switching to manual....

Yours sincerely,

Remember My Name...

Dear Fame,

Oh God, I just heard, I can't believe it, they've remade you. Now I don't want to seem narrow minded, trust me, there is no one, no one, who loves a dance movie more than me, with the exception of you and you know who you are and yes, we'll probably go see it together, but Fame, you are sacred. They have no business jazz handing you up with a load of over zealous songbirds, competing for a place in the Guinness book of records vocal aerobicising (yes I know it's not a word but lets just run with it) up and down the scales .

You, not to mention your spin off tv show, were an important part of my childhood, I wanted to be Coco so badly, no small achievement, please see previous letter in reference to dermis. Just once I wanted to do the flying splits like Leroy, I almost got there once only to balls up the landing and get two stitches in my lip, this would never have happened at Irish dancing...

Please don't let them destroy you, for God's sake, you could catch the moon in your hand, you couldn't get involved in pre-production? I'm going to have to go dig out my leg warmers...

Yours sincerely,

Is There A Doctor In The House...?

Dear Doctor,

I need help, a prescription doctor. I have a bad case of cabin fever. It's a really bad dose of Iwanttodomyownthingitis. No that is not a made up disease and yes the side effects appear to include lying...

I'm no medical professional, but it's acute. Let me list the symptoms, I have an inability to sit still in hotel rooms, I have a back that is missing my bed, I have a bottom that needs to sit on the chair by the window in my friends kitchen drinking tea, I would be drinking the tea, not my bottom, obviously. I have a hatred of every item of clothing in my suitcase, this I believe is what's fuelling the raging fever, overnight the seasons have changed and I am all wrapped up like a Christmas turkey. I have been wearing them for three weeks now and still have four to go. There is a small hole on the left side of my body, somewhere between my ribcage and shoulder, I think this might be where it is missing the daily doses of belly laughs administered by my friends. I am paler than usual, an achievement for one so Irish, my natural colour is blue, at the moment I am rocking a shade so pale that if you were to hold me up to the light, so transparent am I, you could use me as a filter. Blue, is but a distant fond memory.

What's that you say Doctor? Next week, three days off in a row in London? Why I'm feeling better already...

Yours sincerely,

A Little Etiquette Please...

Dear Cretin On Phone,

Thank you for jabbering incessantly on your phone for 40 minutes about petrol and brake pads whilst my colleague and I, who had worked a 14 hour day, were trying to decompress and read quietly. How astonishingly rude of you, yours is a face I would never get tired of punching...

Yours sincerely,