I may be a girl with a one track mind, but a few other things have been occupying my thoughts today:

1) Does working on a (US funded) movie mean that I am sucking the cock of the multinationals? Since my politics lie within the region of anti-globalisation, anti-capitalism etc, have I sold out? Can I really expect to make a difference or create change in the (fucking sexist and racist) industry being the only socialist-feminist in the crew?

2) I miss stroking pussies. Not my own - which obviously gets lots of hand attention; it's playing with cats I miss. I have been dealt the double edged sword of not having a garden and working long hours often on location, which means any cat in my flat would be destined to a life of loneliness and boredom. I need some fur therapy...

3) Which burns more fat: running for 60 minutes on the treadmill, or pushing weights for 60 minutes? I need to know. ASAP.

4) Do all my (female) friends think I am a pervert? I suspect so. The irony is, they get more sex than I do. But hey, their sex lives sound dull (I mean, if they don't climax, what is the point?), so I guess its all swings and roundabouts (I know, a crap cliche, too knackered to think of another right now).

5) How much is too much? Once, twice or three times a day? You know what I am talking about...

6) Will I lose all my willpower and invite B over for a pre-shoot shag? It's getting harder to resist the thought by the day; I am entering my pre-menstrual stage shortly - there'll be no hope for me then...

7) They say 'never shit in your own back-yard' and I suspect I might be about to do that as some interesting possibilities have opened up for me at the gym, well -ish anyway. The nice guy I met last week (lets call him Ginger) is pursuing me. He's eager, which is nice, but something seems missing somehow. Maybe I just need him to have more edge? And the other instructor there - see the earlier blog, (now known as Blue Eyes), is still as cute as ever, but not really showing much interest. I know I shouldn't act on anything; it could mean I am prevented from visiting that gym again if it all blows up in my face. God forbid I miss my endorphin fix from my local gym, that'll never happen. Looks like it might end up having to be B servicing me after all...