As I may or may not have mentioned a couple of zillion times, I was not supposed to spend my working life in a shop selling leather furniture to city dwelling academics and novelty aprons to students, there was a time when it was expected that I would do a drama degree and then become a working actress, playwright or something along those lines. When I was doing A Level Drama my teacher was a fromidable midget woman who struck fear into the hearts of many and reduced teenage girls to tears on a regular basis during each big production/exam piece/lesson/minute of the day. She, however, was not too horrible to me. I didn't technically like her too much but I think she liked me because I would quite often end up writing the plays we produced for our exams and doing extra bits like composing music and learning my lines on time. I wasn't doing any of this to please her, I just really loved it. So she fully expected me to go far I think, further at any rate than 10 miles down the road to a gift and home furnishing shop - where the most acting I do is pretending to give a crap every day when talking to customers about whether that lamp will look good in their art deco lounge or about the fact that the mirror they bought last Thursday smashed on Friday and disfigured their gerbil. I am not guessing that she expected more of me, I actually know she expected more because once a month she comes into my shop to buy a card and tells me. The first time it happened I was offended, it went a bit something like this..

Her: (In complete shock at seeing me behind counter of shop on a Saturday, 6 years after leaving school) 'Katy!'
Me: Hello Mrs X
Her: 'Do you work here? (Complete disgust)
Me: 'Yes, yes I do' (hangs head in mock shame)
Her: 'But...(struggling to understand)...you went to university, didn't you?'
Me: 'oh yes'
Her: 'And you finished your degree, did you not?'
Me: 'Yes I did'
Her: 'And now you're working here (in a shop)?!
Me: 'Yes I am. You aren't imagining it. I have a good drama degree from the third best Performing Arts university in the country and now I'm working in a shop - anyhoo, it's been a blast catching up but if you don't mind, I have to serve the next person....' (Mrs X leaves shaking her head in amazement)

Basically, we've had pretty much the same conversation every time she's been in over the past 2 years - except now instead of bewilderment, she looks at me with this sarcastic twinkle in her eye, like we have this great 'in joke' together about how disappointing and crap my life has been and how I haven't fufilled any of my potential by not actually having won an Oscar yet.

Last Saturday morning, almost directly after the whole Kiera Knightly thing, in walks Mrs X for her monthly dollop of self esteeem destruction. 'Still here, Katy?!' she chuckles to me, eyes laughing, eyebrows raised, voice scornful. 'Of course' I say to her, unblinking 'we don't close until 6, it would be irresponsible of me to leave sooner' and walk away. Next week I am going to go back to my old secondary school where she has taught for the past 15 years, walk confidently into the drama department, look amazed to see her and gasp with disgust,

'STILL HERE, MAUREEN?!'

Because, quite frankly, enough is enough. No one should have to be ridiculed on a regular basis by their teachers 9 years after leaving school!! It's just not how life is supposed to go. Anyway, what with all my acting training I should be able to get the tone and pitch spot on so she knows never to darken my (shop) doors again. Wish me luck.

Today, into my small independent giftshop on a side road off the city centre of oxford, walked Hollywood starlet and Oscar-nominated Keira Knightly. As we gazed at her stunned and all agog, internally screaming 'Jesus Holy Christ on a crutch - a properly famous person who isn't Susie Dent from Countdown or the guy who used to play the doctor in Eastenders, or Anne Diamond but one who has just sat next to Jack Nicholson at the Oscars, starred in two films with Johnny Depp, snogged Orlando Bloom and was completely miscast in Bend It Like Beckham' - she proceeded to head straight for our fake flower section with her male companion and spent a short time playfully putting them behind his ear and generally messing about. Then as quickly as she had arrived in our meagre little unfamous lives, she left again. We didn't speak at first and then slowly, as the hugeness of what we had just witnessed dawned on us, the garbled sentences came out of our mouths, tumbling in uncertain torrents of confusion and excitement, 'did you just see...?', 'was that...?', 'I can't believe...' But a 4 hour stint of rewinding and reliving the moment on our instore cctv camera prooved time and time again that we hadn't imagined the event to brighten up an otherwise dull and monotomous day in shopland - it had actually happened. Wow. Isn't it weird when you realise that potentially anyone that exists in the world today could walk into your life at any time and with this theory in mind there is no reason why Jake Gyllenhall won't be next to peruse our novelty mugs and pearl jewellery. I'm going to have to start brushing my hair for work again and with view of getting back into acting - reciting Brecht monologues loudly at staggered intervals just in case someone influential is listening.

Dear LORD, how could this have passed me by?!!! It's fabulous! Google Idol. When I was about 10 this is totally the sort of thing I would have done had the internet been invented. My best friend at the time, Catherine and I would more or less do this in our bedrooms and lounges - put on little concerts where we would mime and dance to all the latest hits from the top ten in stupid costumes and to great comedy effect. often performing to audiences of family members and other friends who were no doubt in awe of our musical and comedy talents. Fner. I'm sure we'd have won Google Idol! Anyway, go check this out and marvel at how much contestants Kelly adn Pomme (who my brother claims reminds him of me and Catherine 17 years ago) absolutely RULE!!! then click on past competitions and check out Rebekah and Dave - legends in their own living room. Literally. Amazing stuff, I wish I was young again. Also - if Paul and Dave are reading this - I totally 100% think you should enter - you guys would win this!

My latest internet addiction is online Boggle. For the past week I have been playing complete strangers who obviously spend their entire lives scanning dictionaries for 4 and 5 letter words and who beat me so badly I have lost before I have begun. So basically I want you guys to sign up and challenge me so I can at least be beaten by people who know me! Go to Joggle and sign up. Then search for me under players (my username is littlemanic1). I hope to play some of you guys soon and then after that, get a life.

So, as of last Friday I have reached the grand old rock star death age of 27; the age that many prodigal troubled geniuses find it hard to live beyond. Some examples from the '27 Club' are: Kurt Cobain (Nirvana), Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison (The Doors), Kristen Pfaff (bass guitarist, Hole), Ron "Pigpen" McKernan (founding member of Grateful Dead)...As I recover from my hangover and pack away the birthday cards I can feel my own will to live waning. The desire to drive off a cliff or shot myself in the face, or inject large quantities of drugs into my veins is growing stronger by the day. Actually these feelings are no stronger than usual, I think I may actually survive the year. I guess this means I am not a prodigal genius....oh well. Having reached 27 and not actually done anything constructive with my life yet I have come to terms with this already.

To mark my birthday this year and possibly to prevent me from joining the 27 club, my brother gave me Pride and Prejudice on dvd and a tub of Clover margarine. This is not as dodgy as it sounds and has nothing to do with lubrication, it has entirely to do with the thing that made me laugh the most in 2005: last autumn, Will and I went to see Pride and Prejudice at the cinema and Will accidentily took a tub of margarine with him. That was the event of the year for me, it made me laugh so much I was almost removed from the auditorium for ruining the opening credits for everyone else. It may not sound like it would be funny but let me tell you, there is absolutely NOTHING funnier than someone producing a tub of margarine from their bag in a cinema at the beginning of a period drama instead of the bag of sweets they were expecting. Seriously, it was the funniest event of the last 12 months. Don't look at me like that, it's been a depressing 12 months.

To everyone who forgot my birthday, I expect pots of marg in the post asap by way of an apology.