I have so much to write about but I'm just too exhausted and brain-dead.

I need to write about how my previous post about Robbie Williams did not include the word SEXY even once. How did that happen? The man is SEX on LEGS. What was I thinking?

I need to write about how much I love Regina Spektor who I discovered late one night a few months ago on one of the music channels. How I instantly fell in love with her song (and it's fabulous clip) Fidelity. You must go to www.reginaspektor.com RIGHT NOW and listen to this song. I have just received the album Begin to Hope in its plain brown Amazon box and I'm learning to love it. Maybe it will be my summer soundtrack.

I need to write about how I also received Bruce Springsteen's Live: 1975-1985 in the same Amazon box. I have searched high and low for a Springsteen album containing Jersey Girl and this, to my knowledge, is the only one. Why does this song, written by the genius which is Tom Waits, break my heart each and every time I hear it? Perhaps it is the memories of weekend afternoons spent at the Thurless Castle Hotel in Cleveland Street in the late 1980s, where this song was my constant pick on the juke box? Perhaps it's just that it's an awesome song, a song of the 80s, a song of young adulthood (much like Mellencamp's Jack and Dianne and Dire Straits' Romeo and Juliet) which opens up something very raw deep inside me.

I need to write about how the Festive Season is swooping down upon me like an out-of-control roadtrain and I'm numb with shock and horror and feeling bad because I'm not getting into the "spirit". Maybe once we're on that plane to Perth I may start to dig myself out from under the weight which is plastering me flat to the ground at the moment.