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Monday, October 15, 2007

Lisa coloured her hair yesterday evening with Garnier 'Intense Brown' hair dye. It looks very nice. It doesn't look quite as nice splattered all over my Cosy Cream carpet of course, but the good news is that if you get down on your knees for half an hour while she's in the shower, and start scrubbing with a bottle of 1001 Stain Remover, it is just about possible to remove it.

Sadly, the same isn't true for pine shelving units. But the intense brown streak (which in artificial light looks more jet black) now decorating the front right-hand corner of my living room shelves actually adds character to the room. Which is just as well, because having tried stain remover, eye make-up remover and Dettol, nothing short of a chainsaw's going to shift it.

So I'm not bitter, and Lisa's welcome to dye her hair again at my flat any time she likes. As long as she dyes it cosy cream.

Anyhoo, if there's one thing I like to do in life, it's procrastinate. So despite having a job to apply for and an article to write, I found myself sitting in front of the computer yesterday afternoon getting annoyed by the world domination of PostSecret, the ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard, whereupon they're scanned and placed on the web.

On top of celebrating his one-hundred-millionth visitor recently, creator Frank Warren (not the boxing promoter) has just published his fourth compilation book based on the blog, and within five days of being released it's already reached number 12 on the Amazon Bestseller List. Which is particularly annoying as the blog's only been running for three years and Frank doesn't have to write a single word of it himself.

But rather than become bitter and twisted (or spend my afternoon doing something worthwhile), I decided to make myself feel better by creating a rival site: PotsSecret, where people can mail in their secrets anonymously on homemade earthenware. I think it'll catch on. And within two hours of closing the kiln, I'd applied for that writing job and submitted an article to the Argus. Self-therapy rules.