So as Mr PB and I departed from our domestic flight in Heathrow the other day, we were shocked to suddenly find ourselves being chased by security guards. Had Mr PB suddenly turned into a secret drug traffiker without my knowledge - I found it hard to believe. Had they discovered the haggis hidden in the bottom of my suitcase - surely that was allowed within the UK?? No, I had 'stepped' over an invisible high secuity line when trying to find my way to the baggage reclaim, and was in breach of some massive security regulations. Next up, the armed police arrived ( I thought highly unnecessary, and obviously gave me the giggles), and this made Mr PB very stern. Our id's were checked, passport numbers noted, and I was not allowed to talk to Mr PB - we were separated. After 40 mins though we had a happy ending and I got my suitcase, my teddy and my haggis back. Really, do the British police think Mr PB and I are the next Mr and Mrs Smith! Fact: I love celebrity and fashion, it goes no deeper than that.

My big sister is turning 40 this weekend. The drama is immense. You would think she was going to the moon. But then maybe it feels like that. She has been dieting for 3 months in the run up to the big day, worrying about her outfit for 6 months, and asking me everyday how old she looks. The local facialists think that Christmas has come early. Why does the big 40 scare us all so much? I keep telling her I am getting older too, so it is impossible to be objective about her age - I still feel 21, she still feels 25, and I hope that this will never change. Bring on the dancing on that bar this weekend, sis - just like the old times..except my skirt may be longer...