It's interesting how, after a couple of glasses of wine late on a Friday night, Lisa's quite happy to let me put a photo of her on my website. It's slightly less interesting how, in the cold light of day, she completely changes her mind. Still, we've reached a compromise...



... and what's more, we actually went out in public dressed like that. Having been assured by Lisa's friend that parking in the vicinity of his flat is no problem at all, we rejected the bus in favour of my car, and set out last night for birthday drinks on the other side of Brighton. Our destination was a street called 'The Drive', an appropriate name, as you have to drive up and down it at least half a dozen times before it finally sinks in that there are no parking spaces. Still, I enjoyed our jaunt through the backstreets of Brighton with a bottle of wine in each hand, as we made our way on foot from the multi-storey car park a quarter of a mile away.

Staying just long enough to hear a story about an avocado baby, which certainly didn't make me question the sanity of our host in any way (no, really), we left promptly in order to fulfil a prior engagement with my sister on the A23. She in turn has formed a close relationship with a pair of crutches after having her front doorstep painted in gloss paint shortly before a rainstorm. Not that she lives the life of Frank Spencer or anything.

Today very nearly featured a mercy mission to the local hospital, until the patient in question had the nerve to be discharged before Lisa and I could turn up with the grapes. Some people are so ungrateful. The least they could do is remain ill until we arrived. That's the problem with modern medicine - they can tell when you're better. I blame Doogie Howser.