Left to right: Ben, Alan, Miss Mish and Buni. Sadly not present: the elusive Nixon.

More pictures are here (courtesy of Mish), and full write-ups of the evening are here and here.

I'm back. But still a tad lagged, my chickens. Lagged like an old boiler, indeed. So please bear with me, as I slowly find my bearings.

Peru was... an Experience. As opposed to a "holiday" in the more conventional sense of the word. In fact, "endurance test" might be nearer the mark. But more of that as it comes, no doubt. I'd hate to spoil the plot.

My warmest thanks to Alan, Ben, Buni, Mish and Nixon for keeping the place spick and span over the last two and a half weeks (although I'm sure I don't remember those particular fag-burns on the carpet). I've been keeping a watchful eye from various Peruvian cyber-caffs along the way, and have been mightily entertained. Especially by Alan's "gay rut" (been there myself, several times), Ben's "dream team" (my vote would also have gone to La Burchill), Buni's "lost weekend" (or should we make that fortnight?), Mish's "grand tour" (actually, Ha Ha's are retro-chic these days; you mean to say you didn't know?) and *cough* THAT Nixon piece, and its ensuing comments (I might return to this subject in the near future).

Small steps for now, though.
(In a literal as well as a figurative sense, but we don't have to go there.)

It's good to be back.

(Posted by Miss Mish)

Just a teeny little aside here.
We've just taken a lot of the cushions down into the wine cellar and are hiding out, drinking our way to freedom.
There's already a squabble as we can't decide if we should be drinking alphabetically (absinthe, bacardi, brandy, cointreau etc) or chronologically (the 1953 Chateua Lafitte, the 1954......)

We thought we'd leap out upon them and shout "surprise!" when we they get back all jet-lagged and fit and toned. And also to get first dibs on the souveniers and duty-free.
Now excuse me, but I think we're upto to the 1963 Gordons. I really, really must go..........

Posted by Bob

Sorry I was so quiet; I'll make up for it tonight at George's ;-)

n.b. Nixon: You'd better be there!

(posted by Miss Mish)

Picture the scene:
An aging Drama Queen is standing by herself in the ballroom of Troubled-Diva Towers. It is late, her lugagge is piled up by the front door and she is already slightly drunk.
Dressed in her going away outfit of travelling suit and hat, she meanders, gin in hand, dropping cigarette ash upon the marble flooring. Stumbling ever-so slightly, she tearfully bids farewell. Taking a deep breath, she approaches the door and begins to sing …………


“And now the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend I'll say it clear
I'll state my case of which I'm certain
I've lived a life that's full
I traveled each and every highway
and more, much more than this
I did it myyyyyyy wayyyyy”



“Oh to hell with this. I’m not going”



(Seriously, gentlemen, it's been great fun and I love you all. Now if only people had actually read it while they were away......... Mwah! Mwah!)

(posted by Alan)

While I’ve read a lot of ‘professional’ blogs before, Mike’s was the first personal one that I read and what a great one it is too. And, through his links to other excellent personal blogs, I’ve become quite an addict. So, being asked to guest-blog here has not only been great fun, but it’s been a privilege too. Now that my time as a guest-blogger at Troubled-Diva has come to an end, I’ve come to realise two things, one of which is a ‘good thing’, the other, probably not.

Firstly, I’ve come to realise that I really like Nottingham.

Until recently, when asked what I feel about Nottingham, I’ve always said something along the lines of, ‘It’s alright’ or some other non-committal comment lacking in enthusiasm. The main reason for that is my bias against most English cities and towns that developed after having fallen in love with Newcastle-upon-Tyne, a place where I spent 2 great years until January last year. Contrary to all expectations before arriving in Newcastle, I grew very fond of it within 2 months of arriving there. So, rather irrationally, all other places that I’ve been to in England, have been compared with Newcastle and they've all compared unfavourably - Nottingham just didn’t have a chance! But, writing about the place over the past 2 weeks has opened my eyes a lot and I can now admit that despite its failings/short-comings, I’ve really enjoyed myself here and I can honestly say that I've grown very fond of it.

However, in case you are wondering, Newcastle is still my favourite city in England!

Secondly, the blog-writing bug has bitten me.

This can’t be a ‘good thing’ as not only will it make me spend more time at the computer at the expense of ‘real life’ but it’ll also mean inflicting myself on a larger audience than the poor souls that know me already. Actually, while liking the idea of having my own blog, thinking of how to approach it isn’t that easy as most of the best personal blogs seem to have a theme/topic around which the personal stuff hangs. In Mike’s case, it’s music; in Ben’s, football. But, there are others like Mish’s that are just as compelling without having a definable topic that brings it together. For the moment, I can’t think of a theme/topic that I’m sufficiently interested in so my blog would have to rely on something much less definable, an altogether more difficult approach, it would seem, to interesting blogging.

But, watch this space – you've been warned!

Anyway, it’s been fun being here and I really look forward to meeting the other guest-bloggers tomorrow night. And, as it will be my second meeting with Mish, we may yet cohabit.

Mike, thanks for letting me soil your pristine home with my ramblings and, once you've picked up the pieces, washed the sheets and glasses, and cleared the rubbish, I hope to see you soon.

(Posted by Ben)

Well, my stay at Diva Towers is coming to an end, and I'd just like to thank my fellow guest bloggers (with whom I will be rendezvousing tomorrow night), you the lovely TD readership, my producers, my parents, God, Allah - but above all Mike for entrusting me with a set of keys in the first place.

A couple of bottles of Dom Perignon have gone walkies from the cellar and there's a dubious stain on the drawing room chaise-longue, but apart from that I hope you'll find the place pretty much as you left it, Mike.

So, without further ado, adieu.

(Posted by Ben)

So, decision time...

Four excellent suggestions, all of whom are potentially brilliant bloggers, but only one winner...

Is it to be Julie Burchill (Alan's choice, after some deliberation)?

Or Lily Savage (Miss Mish)?

Or Christopher Isherwood (la Byd)?

Or Dorothy Parker (Paul)?

How to choose between them? Oh well, here goes...

For the sake of the team dynamic, I'm inclined to go for another woman, which rules Isherwood out - sorry la Byd.

Lily Savage and Aunt Cyn would certainly get on famously, but I can imagine them forming something of a hareem - guzzling cooking sherry together and taking great pleasure in tweaking D H Lawrence's beard and upsetting Alan Bennett with all manner of lurid suggestions. Perhaps not the best appointment in the interests of team morale - sorry Mish.

Which leaves Dorothy Parker and Julie Burchill. Cynicism and bitchiness v plain bitchiness. Though cynicism is a trait I admire, with the likes of Lawrence, Morrissey and Will Self already onboard, choosing Dorothy Parker could be overkill - sorry Paul.

So, the seventh member of the Guest Blogging Dream Team is Julie Burchill - congratulations to Alan! A copy of Will Self's 'How The Dead Live' is yours to treasure.

Thanks to everyone who took part in the competition - and to everyone who read the posts.

(posted by Miss Mish)


Last night, I heard a tiny news item on R4 concerning Alton Towers. No, not the sister-mansion of T-D Towers, but the amusement park here in the East Midlands.
It appears that a couple living near-by have made an official complaint about the noise and Alton Towers now has to Do Something About It.
Now this has left me with a couple of surreal images. One, of the couple in their pajamas attempting to get an early night, whizzing round to bang on the windows and shout: “Will you keep the noise down in there!” The other, of a crack team of librarians being bussed in to police the park, being placed on the roller coaster and turning round to sternly say: “Shh!” when people start screaming at the top…..

(posted by Alan)

George's!!

It appears that I’ve been missing out on a little treasure when it comes to Nottingham despite it being within spitting distance of the Broadway Cinema and the Lord Roberts, both places I frequent a lot, especially the latter.

It may be small and cosy, but George's bar can certainly fit a lot of people in as Saturday night turns into Sunday morning. The décor is an eclectic collection of objects lovingly collected by George in the 11 years that she’s owned the place. Small Christmas lights festoon the drinks in the bar area, Barbie and Ken dolls make love to the Vodka bottles, Ken bonks Ken, pictures of long dead movie stars and Ethel Merman dot the place. A ‘Frida Kahlo’ portrait of George looks down over everyone. And Ethel Merman belts out her disco songs.

George, herself, is quite mad but completely engaged in everything that is going on and with everyone there. But, later, when there is a sudden influx of people just before official closing time and the glasses have reached a stage where they need to be recycled, the wheels come off and chaos reigns - several customers offer to wash glasses, others clear tables and order is restored after George has told the newcomers, in no uncertain terms, to leave. Those left behind, settle down, knowing that they can stay until George runs out of drink. Her customers, just like her décor, are an eclectic bunch that encompasses all ages, all genders, all sexual persuasions and the rest. And, as Mish said, ‘They are so much better-dressed than the crowd you find at the Lord Roberts, darling!’ Well, not only that, they make for a much more interesting bunch too.

And this is the place where I first meet the fabulous Mish and her bearded friend R. Mish, I’m sure, is always a picture of loveliness but I was most taken by her sitting there, swathed in pink, cigarette smoke curling up from her cigarette-holder, and a glass of wine in hand. Unfortunately, having arrived late, I didn’t get to see her wearing her hat but it was there, next to her pink handbag with its subtly protruding nipples. Mish ordered me a gin and tonic and we began to talk and drink. Drink and talk, talk and drink…Some time later, R left to go to Rock City and Mish and I drank and talked and drank and talked and…

At some point the Australian cello player that I’d spent the night with before entered the bar and sat down behind us with a friend – I was glad to see that he smiled very happily when he saw me. Some time later, it appeared that he was really very happy to see me - I do so love feeling liked and wanted! Next, a Scotsman that I’ve known a while arrived with two of his friends. I chatted to them for a bit but they didn’t stay long. Mish and I joined the cello player , his friend and the lovely young man that Mish later took an enthusiastic shine to. Later, just Mish, George, lovely young man and myself were left, still talking and drinking.

I was ready to sit there all night but several text messages from the Scotsman got me into NG1 just as last entries were going in at 1.45.

Only two days to go until Wednesday and I’ll be there again. This time, Ben and Buni will join us.

(Posted by Ben)

Roll up, roll up...

Just a quick reminder that the deadline for entries for the Guest Blogging Dream Team competition is tomorrow (Tuesday 3rd August) at 4pm.

C'mon now people, don't be shy!

(posted by Miss Mish)

Now just a minute, just a minute. I distinctly remember there being a weekend around here somewhere. I just took my eye off it for a second and it has vanished.
I remember seeing the new Woody Allan film with The Husband on Friday night. Not a classic Woody, but ticks all the right boxes, well told and for once you don’t get the embarrassing sight of Woody dating a gorgeous woman 30 years his junior (unlike his real life). Then we had dinner together and were tucked up in bed by midnight.
On Saturday I remember reading the papers, doing the laundry and then getting ready to go out to meet one of my fellow blog-sitters. The Lovely Alan turned up and we talked and drank and talked and drank anddrankanddrank and managed to stop in time before we fell over. We met lots of other people too and I distinctly remember kissing a young man rather enthusiastically after Alan had left but it all seems to have happened in an hour or two.
Sunday I remember doing nothing but reading the papers and cooking dinner (and thinking about that charming young man a little guiltily) and then before you know it, I’m back at my desk again!
So come on, which of you lot nicked my weekend?


* I also appear to have left my mobile in the bar, my lipstick in the ladies and my reputation down the back of that comfy sofa in George's. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.