Yeah, so I always go with the 'I've been manic' line but really, the last month or so has been relatively odd, glamorous and, err, more odd.To give the headlines, I've had a Halloween gathering that saw the Space Hopper Dildo being ridden by numerous people (but not inserted - though half way through the evening I condomed it up just in case...) had my vagina cast, been 12 feet away from Toni Colette and Cameron Diaz, and been to a 'sophisticated' orgy. And the latter three were all for work.
The former was because, as a result of the manicness (writing about 10,000 words for the latest issue of Scarlet and having a couple of book proposals to write after the Frankfurt Book Fair) I hadn't had a chance to catch up with any of my mates so I did a random 'invite a few close friends for a Halloween-esque party' that rapidly turned into 'have about 50 people turn up at the flat, some of whom I know, and drink to excess'.
I challenge anyone with a Space Hopper Dildo not to use it as a conversation point (hell, I'm not going to use it for anything else. There is such a thing as too comedic a sex toy). Several people sat astride it (though, as I mentioned, not on the huge scary black dildo). Some even simulated oral sex on a Pink Limpy for photographic purposes while straddling the Space Hopper Dildo. I haven't seen the photographs yet. But that's probably a good thing.
Other highlights of the party include a mate managing to leave not only his iPod and glasses somewhere in my flat, but also his shoes. Which is, I feel, an impressive level of druknenness - and more proof for the Daily Mail that binge drinking may not be the best idea in the world. When someone asks 'can you phone my shoes' it gives an indication that they may not be the most sober person in the place (though I was inebriated enough to attempt it...) Other than that, all that needs to be said of the party is that my house resembled a very bad thing afterwards. And I felt both glad that I finally gave up my middle class guilt a few months ago and got a cleaner, and so guilty she was clearing up such a tip that I paid her almost twice her going rate.
The vagina casting (or to be strictly accurate, labial casting) was for the Emily at Large column in Scarlet, in which I have to go out and try something 'new and/or wild' each month. I won't give details away as the article doesn't come out for a couple of months (Jan issue, out Dec, to be accurate) but it was a thoroughly entertaining experience. Made all the more so by having a friend of mine from university days taking the pics for the piece (he is a photographer/designer rather than just random perv but nonetheless, I think it'd be fair to say that, having re-established contact with me all of a week before I went off to undertake the task in hand (?), he was a tad shocked to be asked to photograph my minge covered in plaster of Paris.) And I loved the results (both photographically and 'cast' wise. Even if it is a tad odd having a perfect replica of my bits sitting on top of my TV, elegantly framed with a red curtain. Make up your own jokes here)
The Toni Colette/Cameron Diaz situation was a press conference for In Her Shoes - a film that I loved for being at the clever end of chick-flick. And for nearly making me cry (something that's good in films or books but bad in people). I was dead chuffed to be invited to the press conference but marginally less so not to get to ask a question (only about 7 people did, and the person hosting the press conference knew them all by name) Still, I sat in the second row of the press conference and had a chance to see them both up close. And they both really are gorgeous. Cameron did the giggle too, which was kind of hot in a 'you'd be much hotter if you were allowed to answer any interesting questions'way. Ho hum.
And then there was the orgy. As it's also for a feature, I can't say much about it. All I will say is that:
a) I didn't play (some things are too much to do for work)
b) I won't be going to an orgy again
c) They served sushi. Which struck me as more than a little inappropriate. But maybe that's just my sense of humour.
Other than that, it's been life as normal. Had another couple of books published: Whip your life into shape: the dominatrix princliple (less dirty than it sounds) and Sex for Busy People, and been doing a tonne of radio interviews/general publicity for You must be my best friend because I hate you: Friendship and how to survive it (the latter being my favourite, and not just because I get the best royalties on it). I also interviewed Tracey Cox who is a total sweetheart, and have been blathering to the people who are setting up the Sex Academy which sounds like a damned good idea and I'll no doubt be enthusing more about as time progresses.Oh, and I've still got sales boy (of the rubber pussy testing story) staying with me, which is generally a very good thing (though I was mildly narked when he left said pussies out in his room for me to explain to my cleaner. She was surprisingly understanding)
I've also just read Taming the Beast - a brilliant book that made me cry (in a good way) and is so worth reading. All in all, life is good. Though I reckon a Dublin or Devon break is called for soon, just so that I don't explode. If it wasn't for Deliverance providing me with gorgeous food when I've been too manic to cook, I may have exploded already.