Witch has woken up just on the wrong side of hungover this morning. Just reaching for the paracetamol and then you'll have my full attention.....

Ah. That's better. I took them with scorching hot coffee in the hope that they'll dissolve more quickly. Unfortunately now I have a massive blister on the roof of my mouth. Oh dear.

And what's going on with my feet? Man, they're twice the size they were yesterday. I've always had problems with bunions, but today my big toe joints look as if someone has stitched golf balls into them.

Last night was a success; the outfit went down very well and I managed to stay in the shoes all night - a first for the six-inch lovelies. The last time I wore them was a disaster. In my defence, I forgot that Newcastle was cobbled and there was nowhere to sit in Perdu (it's all weird bed-type furniture), but needless to say I didn't last long before the Wanderer had to carry me home.

Last night, however, I stood all evening; hence probably why the bunions are bad this morning, but I didn't want to ruin the effect of my dress by scrunching it up in a dark corner. I contrived to meet the Wanderer beforehand, so at least I had a strong arm to steady me on the stairs.

The Oliver! lot were there, quite a few had zipped over from Wicked and there were even a few members of the Joseph cast knocking about. All in all, quite a bizzy old affair.

Showbiz showbiz... Anyway. Witch had better go, darlings. I've got to prepare for my first day on Sister Act. Should be fun!

Will let you know how it goes, chickens...