Writer, photographer, "rapper" and general technophobe takes on the internet in what could be a very, very messy fight. But it's alright: she's harder than she looks, and she's wearing every single ring she could get her hands on.


Saturday, 4 April 2009

Top 15 Reasons to Be Glad I Didn't Make The Final For TBJITW

1. I can now attend my grandad's 80th birthday party, and can do so without my aunts and uncles asking if I'm "too famous to talk to them".

2. Heat magazine will no longer be interested in the state of my thighs, and ex-boyfriends will find it difficult to sell their stories (newspapers don't care that "she never, ever puts the lid back on the toothpaste"). 

3. I will still be able to moan about the weather, which will make conversations with strangers and the newsagent much, much easier to initiate.

4. I can talk and think about something other than TBJITW. Eventually. (Not right now, obviously.)

5. I can continue frequenting the local swimming pool, and therefore can continue getting in to scraps with the biddy in the fast lane who refuses to accept that she is a middle lane swimmer.

6. The BBC will have to cut me out of most of the documentary so that they can focus on the winning Brit, which means that it is unlikely that the pot-noodle session ("Why are you single, Holly?" "Dunno: because I'm kind of annoying?") will be aired on national television.

7. I won't get burnt, which means that my skin won't age too quickly, which means that I will continue being ID'd until I'm 87 and my face folds inwards on itself like a cat's cradle.

8. Men will not try and marry me for my island, or my £70,000, or my book deal, or my all round aura of success, because I now have none of the above.

9. I was genuinely happy for my competitors, and therefore revealed as a kind and generous person who appears to have no real ambition at all.

10. I can say the words fuck, bugger, bollocks and bullshit in my blog, without worrying that I'll be penalised by Queensland judges. Not that I want to, particularly, but it's always nice to have the option.

11. I can wear my pink penguin pyjamas without worrying that the BBC will try and film me in them.

12. I won't have a ridiculously good looking pool-boy, which means that I will be able to focus on more important things: like looking for another job that might also require a ridiculously good looking pool-boy.

13. My friends feel sorry for me, which means that they will forget the horrific voting process that little bit quicker.

14. I can finish writing my book, which will keep the voices in my head quiet for a bit longer.

15. I can finally admit to having voices in my head without simultaneously demonstrating that I lied on my psychometric test ("do you ever see things that aren't there?" D: All of the time). 

And the wildcard is:

16. I can now explore the world the way I want to - and write about it the way I want to - rather than the way that somebody else wants me to. Which is a pretty good feeling, because I'm not entirely convinced that I would have been able to toe the line properly anyway. I've never had much of a talent for obeying orders.

As my dad texted me at midnight last night: Who needs a bloody island anyway? Far too much sand. Gets in your sandwiches.

Exactly, dad. Exactly. And I do love my sandwiches.