The Episode Where Big Reads The Book

On the penultimate season of Sex And The City, Carrie writes a book based on her newspaper columns. But Mr Big, who she meets up again with in California, is horrified by what he reads in it. He insists on sitting up all night with the book, obssessing about how he is portrayed.

What I don't understand about this is, how come Big (and all her other men, girlfriends and gaypals) never noticed they were being written about until the book came out? I mean, she has been writing those newspaper columns every week for at least five years and not one of her friends, as far as I can remember, ever so much as squeaks a whimper. I wish I knew what measures she took to secure this extraordinary licence to dish.

I, in contrast, am beginning to feel the heat. There is an enormously long list of things and people I would like to write about, but day by day it's being chipped away at. "Pubshy" (you know who you are) for example, is coming to DC for the weekend over Easter and has forbidden me to type a single syllable into this blog about it or I die. I would dearly love to write about work and all the crazee people there, but that's probably suicidal too. And now my mother is reading this (hi mum! happy mothers' day yesterday! ) that's taken a whole load more potential topics off the drawing board...

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I think we've seen the last of TurkeyGuy's tail feathers. I took him to LiveArts to see Evita on Friday, a production for which EnglishJustin built the sets. To be fair, he had said he wanted to see Evita, but I am guessing he would probably have preferred a romantic outing a deux. Instead he got a barrelload of my friends, and I've never seen a group of people with less in common with someone. EnglishJustin did his best in the universal language of drill bits and 3 sixtyfourths of an inch (for it turned out that TurkeyGuy used to build sets too) but other than that it was fairly painful. TheSplash took me aside at one point and enquired, in the nicest possible way, whether TurkeyGuy and I were an item. I replied that I didn't think so, no, to which TheSplash replied, emphatically, "Good". I was about to ask him exactly, out of interest, what about TurkeyGuy had offended him so much - for on this occasion TurkeyGuy had actually kept most of his more inflammatory redneck opinions to himself - but then the TurkeyGuy himself appeared so we had to shut up and pretend we were talking about the weather.

Poor TurkeyGuy. The best thing about his brief appearance in my life is that I've learnt a whole load of interesting stuff about how one goes about hunting wild turkeys, without actually having to sit around for days in cold damp woods trying to shoot one. This information has all been passed onto Ricardo for his upcoming new Tarantino collaboration.

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While on the subject, I had thought WhartonStalkerGuy had completely dropped off the side of the planet. (Having had Meredith teach me how to look people's photos up on Google Images, I was in the most part relieved about this). In one sense I was right. He had dropped off the left hand side of the planet, on a trip to Seoul, Tokyo and Shanghai. I think I'm going to keep very quiet about my trip to Philadelphia on Wednesday.