How I long to find my inner-Tallulah! I have tried red lipstick, high heels, oceans of gin but to no avail. (I would be tempted to try chain smoking, but my meagre teacher's salary will not run that far, but I do think I'd look rather elegant with an ivory cigarette holder). Talluah evades me again. And, I can't help but think that if, in the words of Tallulah, 'only the good girls keep diaries, the bad girls don't have the time' then the same can be said of blogs.
Tell me Tallulah, how would you handle being dumped by a swarthy fanny-rat a few meagre hours after your dog died? What is the appropriate response?