Agonising is a brand new collective blog, in which a bunch of self-styled "interfering busybodies" attempt to answer their readers' Life Problems.

Having always fancied myself as a bit of a Marge Proops/Ann Landers (delete as appropriate), I didn't hesitate to sign up with the team of counsellors, headed up by Clare "Boob Pencils & Sympathy" Sudbery

Today, having prevaricated for quite long enough, my first piece of online advice can be viewed on the site: I'm 25 and Still Single.

If you would like to add your own words of advice - and I suggest that you read the site disclaimer at the top of the page before doing so - then the site's comments box is at your disposal.

OK, it's lazy-ass "you ask, I answer" time again. Fire away!

As an incentive (to myself as much as anyone else), if we reach 10 questions from 10 readers by the end of the day, then I'll write up the next couple of days in China (including The Shanghai Trip) over the weekend.

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1. Martin asks: How do you, personally, stop the itching after an intimate shaving?

Ah, a nice easy lob to start with. In my case, the answer is simple: I don't indulge in intimate shaving.

If I were still, um, how shall I put this, a Career Girl, then I might have considered doing so - as it is a little, um, how shall I pout this, Unreclaimed Scrub Land down "there". Indeed, a concerned Gentleman Caller once suggested that... but no, enough of that. People are watching.

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2. Zinnia Cyclamen asks: What is the most entertaining excuse you have ever been given?

Oh dear, I fear that this answer will wash me up upon the Shores of Raunch once again. But what can I do?

Many years ago, when I was still a Great Beauty and my dance card was always fully marked, I awoke in the light of dawn to see my Gentleman Caller (all the way from Des Moines, Iowa) - who had been so courteous and attentive the night before - stepping back into his jeans.

"Leaving so soon?", I purred, alluringly.

He shrugged, matter-of-factly. "Well, I shot my load, so there's no point staying. How do I let myself out?"

Way to kill a mellow vibe! How does one argue with logic like that?

Five minutes after his departure, I suddenly remembered the tube of Prioderm which he had accidentally left on display at the top of his open sponge bag, into which I had briefly glimpsed the night before.

"Er, T?", I said, nudging my mate back awake again. "I think we're going to need a shower. A very particular kind of shower..."

Hmm. Perhaps my pubic hair has entertained you more than long enough.

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3. robert asks: Why?

OK everybody, on the count of three?

One.

Two.

Three.

Because.

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4. Lucie asks: What was the last good book you read that you'd recommend?
(And the last trashy one you'd not like to admit to reading?)

Last good book: Margrave Of The Marshes, by John Peel and Sheila Ravenscroft. Particularly for its second half, written with tenderness and delightful wit by Sheila, which shone a revelatory light onto her role in their marriage for the first time.

(For instance, I had always assumed that - like most women of her age - Sheila wouldn't have given a toss about that ghastly racket which Peel inflicted upon his household, morning noon and night, her musical tastes probably stopping somewhere just before punk. Au contraire.)

(Oh, and on a more egotistical note: there was this.)

Last trashy book: Jodie Marsh's Bumper Pop-Up Book Of Celebrity Pubes. I'm hoping to make it into the next volume. Can you tell?

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5. robert (him again) asks:Um, could we get back to talking about pubes, please? 'Cause my head is in danger of exploding, in the face of this extraordinary - and ingenious - proposition.

OK, it's a boring answer I'm afraid. In ten years' time, K and I would be in our mid-fifties, and hence not exactly at death's door just yet. This would afford us the opportunity of sitting back and observing what happens to other people who opt for the digitisation process, then taking an informed decision further down the line.

The existence of a de-digitise (or "re-analogue") option would also assist our decision greatly.

I'm a bit worried about all that polyamorous "sublime intermingling", though. I mean, a quick analogue shag is one thing, but this sounds a damned sight more intimate - and hence threatening. Or would there be no tears and no pain in digi-land? Because if the stakes for happiness are increased, then this suggests to me that the stakes for misery would be equally affected. You know, like drug highs vs. drug comedowns.

Alternatively, if pain is eradicated, then how would happiness be measured? You can't ying without yang, even on the Internet.

Hmm. This is all a bit Pandora's Unix Box, isn't it? I'm going off the idea. Hey, I'm middle aged; we're supposed to be resistant to change.

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Hang about, I'm forgetting my own rules: 10 questions from 10 readers, and I've answered robert twice already. OK, so now I'm going to have to make it to 11 answers. Onwards and upwards!

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6. Clair asks: Which actor would you want to play you, in the movie of your life?

James "Mike Delfino" Denton. Purely for the private script conferences, and the one-on-one coaching sessions. ("No, James: Mike would do it more like that. Shall we take it from the top?")

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7. Anna asks:Actually, Troubled Diva is a good deal less considered and pre-planned than you might think; I operate for the most part on seizing upon random impulses and running with them, to see where they take me. Hence what I have always considered to be a rather haphazard and inconsistent tone of voice and approach to subject matter, which - although this means that virtually no reader could be interested in every word of every post - brings the blog part of its essential character.

Such planning as there is comes from a comprehensive retrospective sidebar, which gives some semblance of order to the day-to-day chaos, and by the regular "series" posts: the wedding stories, "Walking the forest path", the Chinese adventures etc. However, virtually no posts are drafted out in advance. I made a few paper-based notes for the China stories and the "forest path" series - and discovered that this was rather an effective way of storing key points - but that approach was almost unprecedented. Most of the time, I just bash things into the Blogger "edit" window (almost never saving posts in draft beforehand), proof-reading them using the "Preview" function.

However, I can never complete the final proof-reading until the post is published, and I can view it on the site proper - because that's the first chance I get to read it through the eyes of a reader.

Which brings me onto the main point. Although I don't deliberately plot ways of attracting traffic and boosting/retaining my readership, I do write every post with my readership in mind. I've said this before, but I am the complete antithesis of the "just doing it for myself and if anyone else happens to like it that's a bonus" blogger - the whole point of blogging, for me, is to provide something which I hope people will enjoy reading. And that, I would venture, is why this blog has found an audience: because it always reaches out, and never in.

However, if this outward focus is to work, then it can only work if it is maintained instinctively, and not self-consciously or artificially. I think it's very easy to tell when a blogger is deliberately trying to "market" themselves, and I find that kind of approach to be a real turn-off. If I've learnt anything from blogging over the last four and a half years, then maybe I've learnt how to write with this outward approach always in mind, at all times, informing every word - but at the same time, never letting it take over my thinking.

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8. J, my flatmate from Hangzhou, asks:That's a strange division of choices, J. If the choice was merely "win the lottery" versus "exist as normal", then there might be arguments in favour of the latter, as "win the lottery" doesn't involve any real sense of human achievement, and may merely mess up someone's life beyond redemption. (Although this does of course depend on the friend, and their attitude to material wealth.)

However, since you have added the self-fulfilment of "have a best-selling novel" to the unearnt lucky break of "win the lottery", it would seem to me that the odds are fairly massively stacked in favour of option a).

If the choice had been a three-way split - lottery, best-seller, normal - then I would have opted for best-seller. After all, a best-seller is going to net you a few quid in its own right, isn't it?

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9. Clare asks: What would an average day consist of in your dream life, and would it include any blogging?

You know what, Clare? I never think like that. My dreams have never been about specifics, but more about attaining states of mind. (In overlapping but roughly chronological order, they might read: love, popularity, freedom/independence, prosperity, pleasure, balance, peace of mind, personal fulfilment.)

Maybe in my dream life, there would be no such thing as an average day. Routine gets me down; and yet at the same time, part of me craves it.

Tell you what, Clare. As time is pressing on, I shall direct you instead to this answer to a broadly similar question, from October 2004. It's a flippant answer, but it also contains a kernel of truth.

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10. patita asks: think you'd ever be inclined to make the trek to SXSW (Interactive or Music)?

Um, well, I have given some thought to this, as my Bloggies finalist status from last year would have granted me cut-price admission to the SXSW festival. Also, if I had won my category, then I could have showed up to collect my prize in person... which, in sheer ego-boosting terms, would have been rather marvellous. Furthermore, I've always heard good things about Austin, Texas: particularly on the music front.

However. Having watched TV footage of large chunks of the music festival, I was rather put off by the frantic nature of the proceedings, with half the city rushing round the place and trying to blag admittance to sold-out gigs by "hot" bands which I could just have easily seen in Nottingham. (As we do extremely well for "hot" bands, and all of the city's live venues are within walking distance of my front door.) I was also put off by all the naked careerism and hustling that takes place, now that SXSW has become one of the key staging posts in any vaguely alternative band's career. Has SXSW jumped the shark, I found myself wondering.

My other issue would be the total nightmare that air travel to and from the USA has become - as K's recent experience in Florida (via Washington DC) has merely confirmed. I've kind of made a private vow to avoid travelling to, or through, the USA until things have calmed down a bit. That's another rant for another day, though.

As for the tech-geek side of SXSW: nah, not really for me. I'm a pretty half-hearted tech-geek.

Sorry, patita! It must be great having the whole circus coming to your home town - and if it were happening in my home town, then I'd be making block bookings and taking some major time off work.

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Oh dear: ten questions answered, but only from nine readers. Maybe those China stories will have to wait a while longer?

For those of you who haven't been following my mother's memoirs: you might enjoy the most recent entry, in which she fesses up to being somewhat less than the perfect hostess. (The "hostess" theme re-appears later in the same post, but in a rather different context.)

In a couple of posts' time, the narrative will switch right away from Dorset, as my mother begins to recount her memories of her parallel childhood in London's Inner Temple.

1. Cupcake blogs are huge. No, that's not some hip new Web 2.0 terminology which you haven't heard of before; I'm talking about weblogs which are solely devoted to cupcakes. Huge, they are.

2. The Big New Thing in US blogging seems to be reprinting unflattering photos of celebrities, accompanied by incisive comments such as "OMG WTF LOL Check out BRITNEY she looks so freakin FAT lay off the Krispy Kremes already TRAILER-PARK SKANK HO!!!", or "HELL-OOO?!! Jessica Simpson looks so freakin THIN eat some goddamm Krispy Kremes already SKINNY-ASS BEE-YOTCH!!!" Any UK readers who have browsed the front cover of Heat magazine recently should know what I'm on about.

3. The GLBT category divides between a) gay bloggers writing about Big Gay Stuff for a gay audience, b) bloggers with a principally straight readership who "just happen to be gay", and c) more snarky queens being gratuitously rude about celebrities (see paragraph 2).

4. When faced with the ethical dilemma of whether or not to vote for yourself in a particular category (see paragraph 3 section b), you will agonise for, ooh, seconds.

5. The most disappointing category by far was Best Podcast; I was hoping to walk away with a fistful of recommendations, but instead walked away with only one. Indeed, this was the only category for which I was unable to use up all five of my allotted votes. What disappointed me most was the way that almost all the podcast presenters affected the same blandly generic "US public broadcasting radio" voice, as I hadn't expected podcasting to be such a blatantly aspirational medium. Just as blogging differs stylistically from journalism, so I had expected podcasting to differ significantly from radio broadcasting. Where were all the personalities?

6. Waiter Rant, a sharply observed "job blog" from a New York waiter, is a damned fine read, and the one discovery that I shall take away from the whole dizzying, exhausting experience.

7. Ohmygod ohmygod Bryanboy... there are no words. (I had come across him once before via Lubin, but hadn't quite appreciated what a pan-global phenomenon he had become.)

8. Having roped in my almost-impossible-to-impress aesthete of a Life Partner to help judge the Best Designed category (he also lent a hand with Best Food), we both agreed that one site stood clearly ahead of the pack. If it makes the shortlist (announced on Friday), then I'll tell you which one.

Update: It was this one. Although it does look better in Firefox, as the disclaimer for IE users says.

9. Although I wasn't judging the Best Photography category, I found myself browsing some of the outstanding candidates from previous years, in order to showcase the medium to K (who has just resolved to buy his first digital camera). Not having browsed a photoblog for many months, I had forgotten just how excellent some of them can be. Here are my three favourites: Daily Dose of Imagery, Heather Powazek Champ, The Narrative.

(Still not convinced? OK, go here. And then here.)

10. Over the pond, blogvertising has reached epidemic proportions, as "ProBlogging" (via) becomes the new aspirational paradigm. Indeed, whizzing through the lists of dazzlingly ad-enabled candidates and then returning to my own place, I felt positively dowdy by comparison.

Last September, Rafael Behr wrote a lengthy think-piece for The Observer which, at the time, I thought was drastically overstating the "commerce will kill us all" case. Four months on, I can only commend his prescience.I can hear the rumbling from here, folks.

Look, do you know just far outside the Gay Loop I have slipped in recent years?

So far, that until a few minutes ago I had never even heard of Mr Gisby's Totally Gay Pet Shop.

Subtle as a flying man-bag, maybe. But also awfully droll. Hey, I still watch Will And Grace; I get these things.

Actually, do I even have any gay readers any more? Can I get a WOO, sisters?

Well over twenty years ago, I had this ace business idea. Not for something that would ever have made me seriously rich, but for the sort of pile-em-high, sell-em-cheap novelty that might have been massive for a few months, before vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. You know: like clackers, bonce-boppers, or the SDP.

OK, so I never acted on the idea - but it always comforted me to think that no-one else had ever come up with it either. My cosy little pipe dream: the Killer App which got away.

Via a rather circuitous route, and some judicious Googling, my pipe dream has been abruptly shattered.

In fact, it was shattered over ten years ago, had I but known at the time. (*)

Damn. Look, I was getting around to it, OK?

He who hesitates is lost. It's a cut-throat world out there, folks.

(*) This is the link which you click to find out what my Big Idea actually entailed. What do you MEAN, tacky? Given the right marketing push, they could have been MASSIVE...

Having signed myself up for another spell of reviewing the week's new singles for Stylus Magazine, my first week's contributions can be viewed here. This week, I cast my jaundiced eye over new releases from the Arctic Monkeys, Ashlee Simpson, Belle & Sebastian, Cat Power, Mark Owen and The Veronicas.

(Warning: if the writing style leans a bit towards the clever-clever at times, then that's because the frighteningly clued-up readership of Stylus Magazine generally leans the same way. One has to pander to one's demographic, after all.)

Now, when it comes to enjoying a late drink in the city centre, Our Journalist Friend (aka OldEngland) is anything but a killjoy. Many's the time, etc etc.

However, things do take on rather a different complexion when one's bedroom window is situated a mere 120 feet away from the nearest late-licensed bar. A bar which sits on the same strip as several equally lively late-opening establishments, all in competition for the same group of high-octane, high-spending young pleasure seekers. All of this in an area (Nottingham's Lace Market) which has been heavily promoted as our hottest, most aspirational "city living" residential zone - but which is now being equally heavily promoted as a centre for our glammiest, glitziest "destination" bars and clubs.

Such is the fallout of the UK's newly relaxed licensing laws, where it has become incumbent upon aggrieved residents to file their own individual objections to each individual establishment. By doing so, they will find themselves entering a Kafka-esque minefield of bureaucratic obstructions, and batlling against a system which would appear, whether by accident or design, to be heavily weighted against them.

Amongst the many and various obstacles which lie in their way, one in particular stands out: that if an objection should fail in court, then the complainants are liable to have the full costs of the case awarded against them. This is, shall we say, hardly an incentive for active citizenship.

Our Journalist Friend - a well-connected fellow, with a background in the law and the ear of many of the city's great and good - has managed to take his struggle for a peaceful night's sleep much further than most. Yesterday, he even succeeded in gaining a half-hour's audience with the relevant cabinet minister. However, such victories should be measured against the innumerable frustrations which have beset him at every turn, some of which have been detailed in this article which he penned for the Nottingham Evening Post.

To those of you who, like me, live in nice quiet streets where nothing ever happens past midnight: read it, and give thanks for your good fortune.

With nominations accruing over the period that I spent working in China, we ended up with a bumper crop of 22 posts this time round. As no-one in their right mind could be expected to plough through 22 posts in one go, I duly whittled this down to a shortlist of 12 for the benefit of my co-judges: Martin and patita.

As it's an untypical week, I'm going to break with convention and list the top three - because in any typical week, any one of these could have been the winner.

In third place: qarrtsiluni: An Indian Scale. To a backdrop of cellos, stinking shit, crap hotels, street vendors, Indian scales, cookery classes and Ayurvedic massages, the story of a deeply personal journey is beautifully spun. As one judge commented, this was a great examination of a critical transitional time.

In second place: feeling listless Review 2005: Gary Hollingsbee. This is a piece about an anxious father who is trying to do the right thing, a young son who might (or might not) be struggling at school, and an education system which might not (or might) be working in their best interests. Here's another comment from one of the judges.So, who is our winner? Why, it's Zinnia Cyclamen, with Real E Fun: Sam and Felipe. Originally published on the day when the first same-sex civil partnerships could be celebrated in the UK, this is a timely reminder of a recent past in which things were not always so straighforward.

When you read this - and read it you should, if I might be so very bold - please don't do that horrible short-attention-span skim-reading thing, which can so easily affect our enjoyment of good writing on blogs. This one deserves to be read at a steady pace. You know, like a good book or something. Remember books?

Onto this week's nominations, which can be placed in the comments box below. Rules of engagement are here. In particular, please remember the following: you can't nominate your own posts, you can't nominate any of my posts (but bless you for the thought) - and while it's OK to nominate more than one post, please don't get carried away.

I'm also going to introduce a new rule, to lighten the load for my judges. From this week onwards, you'll only have to vote on a shortlist of ten posts, which I shall select at the end of the week. (This won't be made public, to spare any blushes.)

Our guest judges this week are Tokyo Girl and Acerbia D.