I love the idea of clubbing unsuccessfully. Last night was very unsuccessful as we'd left the venue by 10.30 to get the bus home.

Usually I can wake after a night out and think, "Yes, that was very successful: the music was good, I danced a lot, I talked to people I like and my face is hurting from smiling so much. Much fun was had."

Who writes these things?

I have just received a letter from my doctors' practice suggesting I go for a cervical smear. I have been ignoring similar letters from my health authority because they clearly state that the smear process should start when you're 25--I am 24 and I had a smear when I was 20. It was a very unpleasant experience.

This letter, however, says the system operates for women between 20 and 64 years of age. It goes on to tell me, "Our records show that you have not yet taken advantage of the invitation to attend for a smear." Taken advantage of the invitation? Is it a free gift? Have I been invited to a VIP event?

It's almost as badly put together as the hilarious letter from my car insurance provider offering me accidental death insurance:

"No matter what out aims, ambitions or dreams are, none of us really knows what the future holds. When we're young, we often feel that we can live for ever, but sadly it's a fact that fatal accidents happen every day to people just like me or you."

Apparently these fatal accidents occur most commonly to people between 16 and 24 (I'm almost safe!).

Does anyone read this without hearing a voice screaming from between the lines, "You could die! You might die tomorrow! Then your parents will have to pay off your student loan!"

Do people really respond to this kind of persuasive argument? I'm sure one million people already do have this cover, but I bet they weren't patronised with euhemisms and indirect references.

Who writes this shit? Their managers should be sacked.

Google Earth

I was browsing the Earth for ages just before, finding my house, finding places I'd been to across Europe, looking at places I'd like to visit, and then I zoomed out too far and I started feeling strange. It's weird, spinning the Earth around and zooming down on places.

Then I realised the weird sensation I felt was vertigo.

One of the girls on my PGCE course said she cured herself of a number of phobias in one day, one of them being vertigo. She went down a very high slide. I can make myself do those things, but it definitely doesn't cure me. In fact, I'm usually more frightened the second time (the terrifying Kamikaze water slide at Wet 'n' Wild in North Shields is an example of this).

I'm obviously the complete opposite of an adrenaline junky.

I'm very out of date as our Tiscali internet connection was down for two weeks. I felt strangely lost and out of touch with the world whilst internetless, rather like when you lose your mobile phone. Weird how quickly we make ourselves dependent on technology.

Weeks on from the Mercury Music Prize I still have an image from the ceremony imprinted on my brain. There was a priceless shot of Thom Yorke during the Arctic Monkey's acceptance speech, his hand over his mouth (his head was resting on it) and his eyes sort of screwed up in a combination of embarrassment, bewilderment and disbelief at the great arrogance and inarticulateness of Britain's greatest songwriter. Excellent.