Edinburgh is fun. I always seem to be busy here. Something about associating it with independence and my own turf makes it all the more appealing. At the moment it is suffering the festival so tourists abound and get in my way. Honestly, don't they know who I am?! I'm also subjected to my usual bout of paranoia and keep thinking everyone's staring at me for all the wrong reasons. Namely, for nutella smears all over my face. Every summer, the jolly crepe van comes to Teviot place and every summer I queue up and marvel at the £1 increase in the price of a nutella and banana crepe as I buy it anyway- at nearly £5 a pop, you'd better wolf it down and enjoy it dammit. So I do enjoy it- immensely- and to prove I do, I eat it in a meticulously messy way which invariably results in a nutella facemask.

Only my date this time was kind enough to let me know I looked like I'd been nuzzling toilet bowls. So it's not the nutella this time, it must be my fading tan making me look like a leper.

Anyway! So far I've seen Andrew Lawrence, who was very funny if a bit odd. I laughed loudly at his inappropriateness and embarrassingly loudly at a quiet bit where he was referring to a suit he'd fashioned from his dad's skin. Then last night I went to see the comfortingly pleasant-voiced Edwina Hayes, whose voice soothes and songs reassure. I bought her album and it's lovely! She's also really sweet and chatty in person and not at all as mellow as her voice might suggest, quite the chatterbox! I also went to see The Dark Knight which was very good if over long and Batman's Batvoice a bit irritating. None of the acting was wooden though and the joker was quite terrifying.

I'm going to spend my weekend in St Andrews. A couple of years too late to woo Prince William but I'll try and bag myself a Sloanie anyway. He can keep me to the life of luxury to which I've accustomed myself. Marmite doesn't buy itself. Neither do those gold lined nutella pancakes.