I think there must be something wrong with me. The internet is boring me these days. I just can't find the endless energy I once had to surf. I am no longer sucked in through the looking glass. I sit at my desk and work. The satisfaction of my clients pleases me and I make helpful, and dare I say, insightful, comments in meetings.

Actually, that last bit was a lie. I still scowl, since being even remotely interested in anything work related is, AS WE ALL KNOW, extremely uncool. When it comes to career I am straight on to the back of the bus, my friends. My place is most definitely backseat with an occaisional moon at passing cars.

What is wrong then? I ask of myself. One of the two questions that constantly plague me. The other, of course, being - why the fuck aren't you rich, bitch?

Perhaps as I spiral down the otherside of middle age - spiral yet with ever better shoes and a complexion that seems to thankfully be finally clearing up at last - no zits just sun damage - yay! - I am finally getting middle aged. One thing I realized this year was that I am now out of VH1's demographic. VHfucking1. I actually went to the VH1UK launch party at Camden Lock. Christ I thought as I snogged Chris Evans, these people are old. The entire programming at that stage consisted of Dire Straits. Just like my checking account.

In other news, someone I know who is insanely wealthy just lost a lot of it, and I mean lost more than Chad ever had, last month. I think to have loved and lost is better than to have never loved at all. Unless it was money, in which case I have no idea how to help you out with that one, since I am a fantasist who has always believed that I had more money than I ever did. It's nice though and you can only do it when there is only you. Introduce another person into that world and the facade crumbles quicker than a Cadbury's Flake. New York is an expensive habit.