.....Otherwise known as the Hampstead & Highgate Express, came out today, with a piece about me and this gig. I thank them heartily for that and hope that this might lead to a veritable deluge of meetings. A cornucopia of responses. Actually, I could do with a horn of plenty.
I'm depressed. My progress is so painfully slow at the moment that If all continues at the current rate, I will amass just 6 meetings by the end of the bet and amongst other tortuous tasks, I will be forced to run the London marathon next year.
I feel like giving up, but I can't. I was listening to my friend Cindy today. She mentioned that I had sad eyes. I think her words were something like, "..don't be discouraged, try to realise it's hard to take courage. In a world full of people, you can lose sight of it all and the darkness inside you can make you feel so small." Then she started banging on about showing my true colours or something.
Of the 30 letters I sent out at the beginning of this week, I have received just less than one reply. To those who are mathematically challenged, that equates to none. I have always trusted The Royal Mail, but surely something is afoot. That having been said, last night at my friend Mark Sheldon's music pub quiz (Mark works for Radio 6), I got chatting to a young lady by the name of Jude, who mentioned that she might be able to get me in touch with the BBC Radio 'press office'. That could be a good lead but I won't be holding my breath.
I've already had so many people promising me this and that (and ocassionaly a bit of the other). "sure I'll have a word with Guy Ritchie", "Sacha (Baron Cohen) will definitely meet you", "yeah my cousin works for Chelsea, Frank Lampard no problem". Even my sister, bless her, mentioned she'd have a word with Todd Carty's wife while waiting to collect the kids. The thing I've learnt however, and this applies generally in life, is that the only person you can really rely on to help you is yourself.
This weekend therefore, before starting my London Marathon training, and after the girding of loin, steeling of spirit, grasping of nettle, biting of bullet and thinking of cliche, I shall make a concerted effort to write to AT LEAST 100 more of the celebs in one fell swoop, and by gum I shan't fail. Mind you Lady Macbeth said that as well.
In the meantime I'm going to undertake some of the long overdue housework that I've been putting of for a week or two whilst I've been sticking stamps to envelopes. In fact my kitchen sink has become a bit like Denmark. There's something rotten in it.
For now, here's a picture of a tree 
Possibly illegaly, and I may be sued but hopefully not.
