Alison's Diary

Apr 20 2008

MONDAY

That's it, I'm now a vegetarian. My pal Jenny, who lives in the country, has just got two saddleback piglets. After being inundated with suggestions of what to call them, including pork and chop, she decided on Fatboy and Slim. I put on my wellies and go to meet them. They are the most adorable wee snorting things. I've always loved pigs but Dave banned me from having one in Edinburgh - grounds for divorce if you ask me - and getting my hands on these little beasties didn't help my obsession. They are more intelligent than dogs...and a lot of people. I decide to ban bacon, ham and pork from our house.

"What will you do with them when they are older?" I ask Jenny, looking at them with love. "Eat them," she says. Oh.

TUESDAY

Accies rugby team celebrate their 150th birthday and are playing the Barbarians at their Raeburn Place ground in Edinburgh this evening. There is a huge gathering of players, fans, kids and the guest of honour Mac Henderson, who at 101 is the oldest living Scottish internationalist. There is a barbecue and a beer tent in evidence - lovely. I decided to turn vegetarian yesterday but today I realise what a wishy-washy individual I am when I find myself inhaling the smell of bacon and burgers. Fatboy and Slim would not be pleased as I order and eat a large roll. Well, I will try to cut down first and see how it goes. Nae drink. Nae meat. Nae point. Great night although Accies get beaten hands down by the Barbarians. But it is still a buzz to see such high level playing at such close proximity. And those thighs...swoon.

WEDNESDAY

Get an excited phone call from my pal Sheila who works in Leith. I can hardly make out what she is whispering and initially think it is a crank call. Eventually I make out that she was meandering around when she spotted Desperate Housewives star Dougray Scott and the gorgeous Alastair Mackenzie from Monarch Of The Glen. While on the phone to me she is trailing them. "I can't believe you are doing that," I exclaim. "Well, they are both so gorgeous," is her excuse. I don't think that will hold up in court when she is done for stalking. She tells me they have just gone into The Shore. "Don't go in there," I warn her. We are going there tomorrow night for a launch party anyway.

"Do you think they'll be there?" she asks hopefully. "Not if they see you," I say truthfully. She's a worry that one.

THURSDAY

Been eating nothing but salad all day in advance of the launch of The Shore. It kicks off at 5pm and we are at the door at 4.59. Well, it is such a beautiful day - Sunshine on Leith and all that - and it puts us in the mood for a celebration. It is a great night with piano player Stuart Mitchell giving it laldy and the best canapes I have ever had, including mini steak and kidney pies and champagne flowing freely. Hic. The last thing I see is proprietor Jake Miller spotting Nell Nelson, left, who travels around Scotland by bike and samples local delicacies for her TV show The Woman Who Ate Scotland. She is just leaving and as she gets on her bike, Jake leaps into the middle of the road squawking, "You actually have a bike!" He thought it was just a gimmick for TV. The poor woman almost falls off her cycle she gets such a shock.

FRIDAY

Find a bit of paper in my handbag with 'fish and chips and treacle tart' scribbled on it. Initially confused. Was I handwriting my food orders instead of speaking them out loud? Then I recall asking The Shore's staff what Dougray ordered for his lunch on Wednesday. This is the extent of my investigative journalism skills. Eat your heart out Roger Cook. Have to be in the studio at 9.30am despite feeling delicate from last night then go to meet fellow Dougray fan Sheila. She is also feeling appalling so we take solace in fish and chips as a tribute to our hunk. The curative powers of the supper must be written about as worryingly we perk up immensely and were soon revved up and raring to go. Wish we hadn't though.

SATURDAY

Traditionally the day of regret and poison. Why do I go so mad at the weekend? I am a grown woman but there is still some kernel of inexplicable excitement that grows in me when the weekend is nigh and makes me head to the bar. In order to pep up the body after Thursday's delights I have a shandy - a real half-lemonade and half-lager effort. It actually does make me feel better. It works too well as the next has less lemonade and the following one has none. You can guess the rest. Take to the couch to watch Britain's Got Talent and look for my Auntie Joyce who did the auditions in Glasgow. Fall asleep and wake up 10 minutes after it has finished. I hope she wasn't on it. Next is the sequel, Britain's Got A Hangover. Yuk. I'd know a lot of people in that show.