Invisible Stranger

Invisible Stranger

Collecting Crises on Old Compton Street and Beyond

Contact me

Little Tinker

Currently clicking:
- bboyblues
- bitful
- blue witch
- diamondgeezer
- glitter for brains
- london calling
- naked blog
- troubled diva

Usually Playing:
- ute
- neil and chris
- peter and anna
- june
- kurt

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Tuesday, August 19, 2003
Party Pooper
I haven't quite said "no", but have given a definite "probably not", to a party-invite for this weekend. It's being hosted out in the country by an occasional mate of mine, and his rather famous pop-star wife. We're hardly bosom-buddies, so it was nice of them to ask. Previous bashes at their place have been a hoot, and, whenever things started to flag, me and his lovely missus would just go out into the garden and discuss the rhododendrons, about which she knows quite a bit.

Ten years, even five years ago, I'd've jumped, wide-eyed and open-legged, at the opportunity of going showbiz and mwah-mwah-mwahing with the famous, the fondly-remembered, and the what-was-your-name-again? And now? Well, the whole celebrity thing just doesn't do it for me. In fact, it's too much like hard work. I'd much rather stay at home with a bottle of Merlot, and, should I crave sincerity and affection, a video of Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? That's loads more fun than working a room of never-to-be-met-again luvvies, or the awkwardness of pretending not to know who Super-Famous Person is by starting the small talk with "So, exactly what is it you do for a living?"

Besides, there's a bloggers' meeting in central London this weekend, which I might just try and make. For scandal, intrigue and glamour, I reckon that one's going to be hard to beat…