The call from faraway corners of the Earth

I had to delete some texts in a raging fit of jealousy as I woke up this morning to some beauts in my inbox.

Exhibit A: “Oh fuuuck. Madonna is INCREDIBLE! Possibly THE MOST AMAZING concert I have ever been to. WISH YOU WERE HERE. You would LOVE this!!!”. STRAIGHT to the recycle bin.

Exhibits B through to E: Further Live-Earth-concert-related, expletive-riddled reports from Wembley Stadium. Delete delete delete.

Exhibit F: “Sitting at Joe Kool’s [Durbs – that would be my hoof-flicking ground] watching the rugby. Man I could move here, it’s awesome”.

Exhibit G: “The July has been INSANE. We were all over the place!! You should’ve been here!” Naught boet. Canned it in the blink of an eye.

Chunder, chunder, cotch and spew. If there is one thing I cannot handle, its feeling like I missed out.

When I lovingly turned on my radio this morning, I was lambasted with live recordings of the Chili Peppers, Foo Fighters and Razorlight from Wembley. On every channel. With no regard for my feelings. Fergie was indiscriminately peppered all over the airwaves. I felt nauseous.

The next installment will come later today, yes, as I sit at work, as the London contingent heads for the Henley rowing regatta piss-up of the century. I hope it BUCKETS down and their stilettos get sucked into the muddy earth.

Despite these personal trials, I still had a rather marvelous weekend in Dubai. It began with a solo wine-saturated viewing of The Age of Innocence on Thursday night, because I was so torn out after my 6-day working week I could not possibly have heaved my rear off the couch. It is an insanely romantic, haunting, and infuriating movie. I recommend it.

On Friday I burned plastic at Top Shop and River Island like a crazed woman. And THEN – this is where it gets even more SJP – I went for a massage. Unfortunately they couldn’t fly Schalk in for the job, but it was fabulous anyway. Korn, Peggy and I dined on Moroccan braised lamb and couscous at the Madinat and talked smut. Most guys (including Korn) would never admit it, but they love being ‘one of the girls’ from time to time.

Saturday kicked off with a callous spinning session, followed by a facial. Stop it! I’m becoming a koegal in front of my own eyes.

Then watched the Wimbledon Ladies final (unlike most of London, who were all at Live Earth). Venus you biscuit.

Some say she could take on Schalk.