I found out today who told everyone about my blog. It was Nikki. I wondered why my own little sister could have dropped me in it like that, but of course she and I had this terrible row when I got back from Greece because she'd nicked all my CDs from my room while I was away and I haven't even got most of them back even yet.

It was Suzanne who told me Nikki had been boasting a couple of months ago that she had found my 'diary' and it was full of 'stuff'.

When I challenged Nikki about it, she admitted contacting everyone mentioned in the blog, and giving them the URL. She even went to the length of persuading Joe Mason to get a notice put up at University, which I have since ripped up, but too late. Thank you, Joe, and, by the way, Nikki is too young and immature for you.

Well, Nikki, if you're reading this, and I bet you are, here's a little 'stuff' for all your friends.

Nikki, at the age of 17, still goes to bed with a disgusting furry bag, which used to be a teddy bear, and sucks it all night. All attempts to take it from her, for laundry purposes, for example, result in a peevish tantrum accompanied by tears.

That should totally improve your street cred, Nikki, what do you think?

And if I don't get my CDs back real soon, further, juicier, revelations about your private life will follow, so stay tuned, folks.

Well, I'm glad I got that one off my chest.

Had an unexpected encounter this afternoon. Jez (no point in hiding his name 'cos he's famous) tapped me on the shoulder in Boots where I was hunting for a shower cap (not for the shower but for protecting my hair during wet and dirty plumbing jobs). Jez is lead guitarist in Damp Patch, an up and coming band. When I knew him for years back we were playing together in a schoolkids' band called Deaf Shepherd. At the time I fancied myself as a lead guitarist but I never really had the talent compared with Jez. So I finished up playing a pretty lively (borrowed) bass guitar for Deaf Shepherd. I was always being told to stop trying to play the melody and just do the rhythm. We rehearsed for about six months, then had one or two gigs, and the band fell apart.

It wasn't till last year that I heard Jez and the singer, Benedict, had formed Damp Patch, and seemed to be doing all right as a warm-up band for more important names, but I never heard them play. I wondered where the songs were coming from, because the keyboard guy from Deaf Shepherd had always written the songs. He was part of the reason we broke up because he was never happy with the rest of us and fancied he could do better. I haven't heard of him since.

Anyway, Jez was quite complimentary about my bass as he remembered it. I said I felt a bit embarrassed I'd never heard Damp Patch play, and he gave me a couple of tickets for a concert next Tuesday. Result!

I reminded P last night that I was going on this Greek trip for most of next month. He was OK about it, but I was quite pleased to see that he looked a little concerned. I don't know if it's because he's losing his tame loo clearance operative, or he's going to find it harder to hoodwink his wife, but in either event, he seemed disappointed.

A rather disastrous date with D last night. It started just the same way as usual, but in the pub he started to drink pretty hard. When it came time for me to go to work, he tried to persuade me to stay, then when I left by myself, he ran after me and grabbed me. I was very alarmed, and I sort of froze. He saw my face and he tried to laugh it off and even called me a taxi.

I'm only having anything to do with him in case he screws up the Greek trip for me. When it's over, he's history.. or archaeology.  ie dead and buried!

I 'm really slow. I just sussed that P is now using me as his alibi when he spends time with his girlfriend. I wondered why he often gave me his mobile phone when he left me to get on with some repair I could handle. More than once, I've had to tell M, when she rang up, that he was on another job. He was on the job, all right. Of course, wherever he leaves me, I've got to hang around until he comes back with the van, so it's sometimes a bit awkward hanging around waiting for him, though he's always come back exactly when he said he would.

How did I find out about this? Not by doing a Sherlock Holmes. Turns out that this business is all in the family. R told me P's extracurricular interest is J, his own brother H's wife. And H is on the cross-channel ferries, so he's away two weeks in three.

Well, it's nothing to do with me, but I'm seeing friendly old P in a new light. And I hate that he's got me involved without the option.

Another date with D. I'm beginning to dread them. He seems OK, really, and I'm keeping him sweet because I don't want any hassle about the Greek trip but I certainly don't fancy him and it's a question of looking kind of available without actually being. We meet at the Uni, look at whatever's new about the trip, then eat, still Dutch, then a drink (or a few in his case), then he takes me home. He's had a couple of goes at getting me back to his flat, but it's in Finchley and he shares, so it's not really practical, thank God. Especially because I usually tell him I'm working on the overnight shift, even if I'm not. I've asked him in for a cuppa, but he always refuses. I've got a feeling that he carries on drinking after he delivers me.