Miss Cay
I love my food. Always have done, and probably always will do. Over the past few years, I've also become rather addicted to large swathe of the cookery programmes that appear to be slowly taking over the airwaves. I've seethed silently over Auntie Delia's love of tinned mince and frozen hockey pellets of mash, cooed over Nigella Lawson's obscenely good-looking kitchen, and-on more than one occasion-had to restrain my mother from licking the television screen when she's caught sight of that James Martin bloke who presents Saturday Kitchen.
I do a lot of cooking at home, and take a real pride in my skills in the kitchen. I know how to make a halfway decent loaf of bread, I can bake cakes so good they have been known to make grown men weep and, upon feeding him the fruits of my labours after I attended a Malaysian Cookery Course, my boyfriend once told me that my food was "as good-maybe better" than the stuff he got from his local takeaway. (Charming lad).
However, around this time of year, an alarm clock goes off in my stomach. The alarm clock which compels me to park myself in front of a television at 8.30pm every weekday evening to watch two lardy, hairy, shouty men shovel obscene amounts of food into their mouths like a pair of mutant pez dispensers. Oh yes, it's time to come clean with my guilty little secret. Dollymixers, you can keep your Dancing on Ice and your X-Factor, I, Miss Cay, am addicted to Masterchef.
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Why I love...
I think Belle de Jour is great. And not just because she included a dedication to me in a book (although that kind of thing does warm the cockles of a girl's heart).
She's funny, literary, independent, intrepid. She's also kinda cheeky - she clearly appreciates and exploits the value of titillation, and isn't afraid of courting controversy.
Long ago, before the TV series, before the book deal and before even the Guardian weblog award, BdJ and I were blogging contemporaries. So I've been reading her for almost five years. And the more I read her, the more I like her.
And I liked her quite a lot in the first place. If you'll follow me over the jump I'll tell you why.
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Home and Living
Last week, my boiler broke. I spent three days a very shivery little blogger. Now, I have no water. I need my tea! I can't blog without tea! Short of getting Shiny Towers to pay for me to live in The Dorchester for the rest of the week (guys? any chance?) I've got to get someone in to do the work.
And after a chat with your next guest editor, Laura Kidd, I've realised I'd be much more comfortable with a woman doing it. So this week, instead of just one woman of the week, you've got a whole bunch of them.
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Women In Film
There are loads of woman who amaze me. But there's only one who absolutely kicks lady ass and always rocks my world.
I know, I know, you absolutely can't contain your excitement. Clue: She once said "Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get - only with what you are expecting to give - which is everything."
I'll put you out of your misery after the jump!
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Music
What's the greatest film ever, movie buffs? The Shawshank Redemption? Snooze. The Godfather? Long, complicated and snoooooze.* I will help you out, readers. It is Sister Act, closely followed by Sister Act 2: Back In The Habit. The humour! The singing! The nuns! To borrow from Tina, it's simply the best. And this morning my RSS feed exploded with joy as it told me that Whoopi herself, currently being simply the best on The View like we talked about last week, is going to produce the musical stage version IN LONDON. Too. Much.
Sister Act fandom keeps good company - Beth Ditto says Back In The Habit is her favourite film, mainly because of Lauryn Hill bits.
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Top 5
Michele Hanson nominates Joan Bakewell as her heroine of mature people in today's Guardian. But we have our own Top Five Older Ladies What Rock, after the jump....
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Women in Sport
I love watching freerunning, it takes me out of myself. I enjoy pretending I'm not the weak sedentary desk-bound lazy person that I definitely am. Willing them to make that landing, catch that ledge, imagining that I might be able to do it if I practiced enough. Obviously a significant obstacle to this kind of imagining, which we ladies have to try to leap over, parkour-like, is the fact that most freerunners are still male. Don't get me wrong - still plenty to enjoy in watching brawny men do their cat-leaps and what have you. Just not so much to identify with. But things are changing. Check out this awesome female freerunner, Karen Palmer, and be inspired to, you know, get up off your arse and vault that wastepaper bin...
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Fun & Games
It really is high time we had this on here. Whatever you think about their clothes, Diesel have always been very good at the web game. I remember their amazing MacDonalds-style website years ago, when everyone else was still trying to work out what an html was. Now they've got this viral video, and it made us laugh, it really did...
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Websites
Honestly, this is somewhere between utter madness and pure wonderfulness. We're so protective of our personal lives, so defensive of our details, how liberating would it be to post our phone number on the web and invite the world to use it at their will? Or to be the person who finds a number on the web and just goes ahead and text it, getting all our worldly woes off our chest? Here's how to get involved:
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Why I love...
There have been quite a few female investigators. They might not always be as high profile compared to some of the male ones, but I'm confident they still have huge status in the libraries and bedrooms of girls across the country. My fave was always...
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