i'm being naughty and posting from work (via wap you see). i'm incredibly bored because i'm on coatcheck but i'm making a small fortune in tips. i've made as much in tips as i would earn in a night under normal conditions. huzzah for fashionistas (for they make up the majority of the guests - the place is crammed with hot women in skimpy dresses. le sigh.) I am, however still reduced to eating almonds off the floor (or at least i was just then). ok i'm babbling and i've just run out of space.

i'm loving the sunshine we're having at the moment, although i managed to get sunburnt yesterday - even though i was only in the sun for 45 minutes. things are beginning to look a bit greyer on the horizon though, and i'm anticipating a thunderstorm. i love thunderstorms.

um, i was in another film on sunday with jess. it was kind of boring, but definitely worth it for the remuneration (i think that's the word) at the end. huzzah. although i was knackered due to having spent most of saturday night washing glasses at work (i spent literally two hours putting glasses into the glass washer, taking them out, refilling the glass washer and drying the previous glasses).

stu and i went to see the divine comedy last night. i have been a fan for quite a long time, but i hadn't seen them live before. it was really quite ace, although we were up in the gods, so the sound could have been better. they covered no one knows by queens of the stone age - after a preamble about how neil hannon had been on his annual leaf collecting holiday in bavaria when he heard the most perfect record, he transcribed it and translated it and then switched on his radio and heard it being played by a heavy metal band. thus it was a sort of ooompah version of no one knows with strings. and he went from the ridiculous to the sublime by finishing with sunrise - one of the most beautiful songs ever. another of the most beautiful songs he's written, songs of love (the theme tune to father ted), was played in a rather arch stylee, spoiling it a bit, imho. but a great gig none the less. weird but grate!

oh the other thing i wanted to add about gmail was this from the t's&c's:

"You do, however, agree that Google may monitor, edit or disclose your personal information, including the content of your emails, if required to do so in order to comply with any valid legal process or governmental request (such as a search warrant, subpoena, statute, or court order), or as otherwise provided in these Terms of Use and the Gmail Privacy Policy. Personal information collected by Google may be stored and processed in the United States or any other country in which Google Inc. or its agents maintain facilities. By using Gmail, you consent to any such transfer of information outside of your country."

having watched enemy of the state (it was ace by the way) on monday, i'm inclined to say grrr. but y'know privacy is overrated anyway. i want my gig of storage. and in a strange kind of way, i trust google. completely irrationally, but still.

hee, i'm totally beta testing gmail. thus you can email me there, and i should be able to read it, and probably keep it forever. i'm so 1.0 (alright not that 1.0, otherwise i'd have got tara1.0, but pretty 1.0). although my computer (which if it were a child would now be trying for prep schools - it's that old) doesn't seem to like the actual gmail site. they warned me the ancient browser was unsupported though, and i should be able to pick it up from college anyway.

but enough geekery. i was working last night. every time i work, it seems, someone hits on me. last time it was the best man at a wedding, though he was slaughtered (that means he was drunk, i didn't get so annoyed that i ritually killed him). my theory is that y'know: you're a girl, you give me alcohol, you tidy up and don't complain, therefore i love you. not that i blame them, i've done it myself in the past :)

this time it was a fairly old bloke, say late forties. and he passed me a note. i thought at first it was just a really lengthy order, but no it was a love note. a billet doux. and it read "i really fancy you - call me, [name phone number]. easy or difficult i don't know" (incidently, capitals were used, he wasn't that strange). it was that last sentence that confused me: "easy or difficult". was he implying that i was a lady of easy virtue? was he suggesting that it might be hard for me to get in touch with him? who can say? maybe him. at the end of the night he came up to me again and apologised (he must have seen me turn beetroot), adding "but i really do fancy you." gah.

there are pictures of me everywhere at the moment, just not here, y'know. i can at present be found in smash hits!, it's true, on page 15 (or something like that). i'm will young's body double. honestly. i'll scan it in at some point. and then there's a picture of sam and i at how does it feel on saturday here (we're the second picture down). yes, i do have cellulite on my chin, in case you were wondering. i always manage to have a fantastic time at hdif. and ian played poupee de cire by france gall. i know all the words. in french. i was so so happy.

today i made my way to tiffany's on bond street to attempt to buy my parents a present for their silver wedding anniversary. i was completely underdressed for the occasion, having come straight from college, but the staff couldn't have been nicer. go them. unfortunately (hmm), everything was way, way out of my price range (very charming and lovely assistant: "we have these silver key rings for £45." me: "fuck!"). so i went to liberty's instead. yay.

i had maybe the most surreal night ever yesterday. it's true sam was there, he'll tell you. it started off pretty normally (apart from the hickey the size of hamstead on my neck where the boy got over-amorous the other night). y'know pub n gossip n stuff. then of course they rang the bell for last orders at 10.15 (cos of it being a bank holiday), which is far too early to be heading home. so we walked over to carnaby street to find a pub that would be open later, which we duly did. standing at the bar of the pub was this man, and he insisted on buying us a drink. one drink turned into several, and suddenly it's midnight and we're heading back to his hotel room. it's ok, nothing bad happened, it was just weird. later there were two drunk sinister kids trying to stumble their way back to oxford street, and somehow ending up in a deserted communal garden (well in all honesty we climbed over the fence), before finally discovering the bright lights of marble arch. this doesn't happen very often, to anyone really. it was deeply strange. but fun.