Was at a marvellous launch party last night, and gradually realised that there were celebs everywhere. But, rather like too many magazines in a crowded living room, people were just falling over them. Not only did Robson Green accidentally give me a backrub, but someone opened a door into Charlotte Church's nose. When they realised not only what they'd done, but who they'd done it to, they ran screaming away. And then laughed.
I didn't talk to Celebs. Well, I can't. But I did get to interview the controller of BBC One, Lorraine Heggessey. Which was odd. She's perfectly lovely, but emanates such background radiation of authority that my memory of the entire incident is wiped. I don't think I fainted during the interview, but do remember that lots of perfectly fluffy questions suddenly came out all wrong.
Such was the buzzing in my ears that I had no idea what I was saying. At one point I asked an appallingly dumb question and began to apologise for it, only to be stalled by her saying, "I've started to answer it. I'll finish."
I'm so so sorry. Fabulously powerful women terrify me. She really is like Servalan. Only nice. And a bit smaller.
Seeking calmness, I rang Adam for reassurance: "I've just interviewed Lorraine Heggessey."
"Really? Fab. We've just taken magic mushrooms. We're worshipping Steve's lighter. It's a god."
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