They’ve outdone themselves this time, haven’t they? It has been reported that she has been named after either Harper’s Bazaar, the fashion mag or Harper Lee the author and the seven comes from David’s football number. I actually really like the name Harper and if indeed she has been named after the To Kill a Mockingbird author then I like it even more. I have to say the idea of the Beckhams sitting around reading is quite hard for me to imagine but I don’t want to pass judgement, I’m sure they’ve both read some great works of literature (ahem).

Anyway, Harper Lee is one of those authors who has a pretty remarkable story. For starters contrary to popular opinion she is in fact a woman and secondly To Kill a Mockingbird is widely considered to be one of the greatest books ever written.

Harper Lee or Nelle Harper Lee as she was named, was born in Monroeville Albama and was the youngest of four children. Her father, Amasa Coleman Lee was once a newspaper editor and proprietor but went on to become a lawyer. It was her mother, Frances Cunningham Finch Lee, where the name Finch (the surname of the main character in To Kill a Mockingbird) came from. Despite this and the fact that her father was a lawyer, Harper has always said the novel is not biographical in any way.

Growing up Harper was a tomboy. She spent her time reading and hanging out with her best friend, who just so happened to be Truman Capote. The idea of two of America’s greatest writers hanging out together as children is just wonderful, don’t you think?

As Harper grew older she became no more girly and while at the all-female Huntingdon College she really stood out from the others as she had her head down studying rather than letting her hair down partying. She can’t have been that shy and retiring though as she was reportedly a member of the college’s glee club, Rachel Berry eat your heart out.

Harper didn’t stay at that college long before transferring to the University of Alabama at Tuscaloosa. She became the editor of the school paper, known as the Rammer Jammer during her time there. However, when she was accepted into the school’s law programme, she didn’t have the time to continue being editor.

I was surprised to find out that Harper went to Oxford University on exchange for one summer. She was clearly a hugely talented and bright young woman. On her return her mind was made up, no more law for her. She was to pursue her dreams as a writer.

In 1949, at the age of 23, Harper arrived in New York City. Her old childhood friend Truman Capote was there at that time and was becoming a bit of a literary star. The pair started hanging out again and became friends with the Broadway composer and lyricist Michael Brown and his wife. She clearly made an impression on the pair because as a gift they gave her a year’s wages, with a note saying: “You have one year off from your job to write whatever you please. Merry Christmas.”

And the rest is history, she had written the first draft of To Kill a Mockingbird in a year and it was published in 1960. It became an instant best seller and it still is. I read somewhere that it is the second most read book after the bible.

What’s so fascinating about Harper’s story is that she never wrote a novel again. She attempted two others but never felt they were good enough to publish. And how could she feel that anything would be received in the same way as To Kill a Mocikingbird was?

If you haven’t read it you must, and likewise if you haven’t read any Truman Capote you should, In Cold Blood is one of the most well-formed and gripping books I have ever read. I remember a teacher at school telling me that Harper Lee spent the rest of her life playing golf and steering clear from the public eye, you’ll be hard pressed to find any interview with her. I don’t know about you but there is something that inspires me but also makes me a little sad when I think about this young woman who wrote something so remarkable and then never really wrote again.

So, although I am unsure about the Beckhams choosing the name Harper Seven for their newborn daughter I am pleased it reminded me of Harper Lee’s wonderful story and gave me a chance to share it with you. You never know Harper Seven might have a literary classic within her too.

For the past three years or so, since I’ve started really sinking my teeth into celebrity goss I have to confess that I have been an avid reader of the paper. I am ashamed to say that I would love nothing more on a Sunday than to crawl hungoverly to the newsagent, or more likely send my boyfriend and then sit trawling the pages seeing which unlucky celeb had been named and shamed that week.

I did not for one second stop to think about where these stories came from and the emotional impact it would have on the people involved to see their lives splashed on the front of a one pound paper. This was perhaps naive on my part or a subconscious decision to ignore any niggling suspicions or feelings of unease about reading it. If I had stopped to think about it rather than being consumed with this unhealthy desire to know about people’s private lives then I don’t suppose I would be feeling like this now.

I feel like a bad person. It is someone like me who drives these papers, I am a part of keeping Murdoch’s wallet brimming over with cash and I have given him a small bit of power a man like him should not be allowed. Growing up my parents always instilled Murdoch hatred in me. While all my other friends were watching Sky, we weren’t allowed it as my parents refused to let Murdoch play any part in their lives. And look at me now, I’m a disappointment to them and to myself.

Watching Steve Coogan on Newsnight last week was the final straw for me. I was surprised that I felt such pain for him and he’s a man who, let’s be honest, doesn’t seem particularly likeable. But why should his life be dragged out in the press in the way it is? People like Coogan should be lauded for their talent. Who cares if he sleeps with prostitutes while snorting coke or whatever it is. It’s got nothing to do with me and nothing to do with you and it certainly doesn’t affect his ability as a comedic writer and actor. Furthermore it is never acceptable to use illegal methods in order to uncover these bits of tittle tattle.

And so from this day on I promise to search out only positive news regarding celebrities and read nothing Murdoch owned. I promise to avert my eyes when I see stories of affairs, alcohol abuse or drug use. I am beginning a crusade to bring people happy, positive and talent-praising news. Celebrity gossip doesn’t have to be bitter and full of hatred but rather a celebration of that person and their achievements in life.

Wish me luck.

I shouldn’t really like The Only Way Is Essex. It is essentially a celebration of misogynistic men, stupidity and fake boobs, which I should be appalled about. But I’m not, I love it. In fact I bloody love it and I’m not ashamed (well maybe a little). So, I thought I’d share with you two of the reasons I haven’t been able to take my eyes of the TV these last couple of weeks and why I am TOWIE ‘till I die.

Lydia and Arg

Lydia Rose Bright
This series I have become well and truly obsessed with this woman. She is one half of the shows comedy couple with Arg. She is pretty, wears great clothes –stylish not slutty and she is literally the only girl on the show not to have a boob job. I have got a few concerns though, firstly what does she actually do, job wise?

And secondly her relationship with Arg, he’s just not pulling his weight enough. It makes me sad to think he would be abusing her niceness and is spending too much time with dickhead of the year Mark Wright. Oh and her mum is classic. Between them they have caused most of the laugh out loud moments of the show.

Amy giving Chloe a spray tan

Plastic Surgery
If you don’t live in Essex then you are going to be absolutely amazed by the array of surgery in the show. Who knew so many people have had stuff done and that they all hang out together in plastic surgery packs? My plastic surgery highlights are probably Amy’s cheek implants and then Chloe Simms and Lauren Pope’s faces. What the hell? If you don’t know what I am talking about, google it now!

What I don’t understand is how and why men find this attractive? It’ s quite depressing really that men fall for that, is it because it accentuates the things they love (boobs and mouth) or is it because that’s what porn stars look like? Any thoughts please?

Firstly there were reports that he had been drunk and abusive on a flight. His response was priceless, he said:
“I had met a lady with a baby before getting onboard.
“I simply went back to see her as the baby was being restless. I’m good with kids and I thought I could give her a break if I sang to the kid.
“Why else would I be going back through the curtains into economy? I actually slept for most of the flight.”
What? Sorry I forget that you were such a huge star that you would never be seen dead in economy other than to comfort a baby. WTF?
Katona’s ex went to say:
“Sure I’d had a couple of drinks but I’m an Irishman. It takes way more than a couple of vodkas for me to be sloshed.
“I’m Irish, I drink a lot of drink and I drink a lot of the time. But what is being claimed never happened.”
OK, is he basically just admitting he’s an alcoholic? Not quite sure why he feels the need to tar all the Irish with the same brush. I bet Kezza is loving all this though, for once she is the sober one.
It gets better though. Later in the week he was photographed with one of Australia’s most notorious gangsters. I didn’t know Australia had gangsters but that’s beside the point. The gangster is John Ibrahim, who has been charged with various offences including manslaughter and in 2004 was named “a major organised crime figure” by Australian police. Oooo get you Brian, mixing with the bad boys.
I don’t know about you lot but I’m thinking that the ex Westlife star who looks like butter wouldn’t melt, seems like a bit of a prick really.
But hang on; oh this all coincides with the release of his new single. Yeah he’s still making music, god help us. It seems his new tune isn’t quite getting the response he hoped for. Called Just the Way You Are ( Drunk in a bar), it’s has got people a little worked up.
Lyrics include ‘I like you just the way you are, drunk as s**t dancing at the bar’ and ‘can’t wait to get you home so I can do some damage, can’t wait to get you home and take advantage.’
Oh dear Brian, what do you think you are doing? People are questioning if the song is promoting date rape. I perhaps wouldn’t go that far but seriously what the hell is he singing about. Firstly it’s just moronic and against the law ( it’s called rape, Brian) to get a girl drunk and take advantage and secondly, I have never met a man who finds it attractive watching me stumbling and slurring all over the bar. Drinking is not cool kids and it certainly doesn’t look pretty. Again, having to defend himself he said: ‘For the record I wrote the song about how I love it when Delta has a drink (which is very rare) and she’s dancing.’
‘I am shocked at these ridiculous accusations about my new song that have been written.’
Ha, so both you and Delta like a drink or two, nice.
If you want to take a listen, check it out below, but please I beg of you don’t enjoy it .One more thing though, it has been suggested that the song is all a joke. Hmm I don’t know but I do know that I preferred Brian when he was the chubby one in Westlife. Thoughts?

Tomorrow is International Women’s Day so I thought it would be as good as time as any to look at what it means to me to be a woman.

It also happens to be the centenary of the event which is pretty remarkable really, but how much has really changed since the day was first founded?

I would say I am pretty lucky. I have a goodish job, I have people I love around me most of the time, I’m financially secure and have all the basics such as water, food and electricity. But would I have more if I were a man?

In my office alone the highest earners are men. I could say this is because they are the most qualified but this just isn’t true. Men time and time again have more opportunities to succeed. You can’ t deny or escape this fact.

The main thing in my eyes that holds women back in the work place is pregnancy. I want to have children but I know only too well that at that stage in my life my career will have to be on hold, maybe not entirely but certainly to an extent. Women have children, they always will but still after however many years it has been that women have been allowed in the work place, it seems the necessary measures to ensure their career doesn’t take a back seat just haven’t been put in place. It’s not enough what we are offered at the moment. I still hear stories on a regular basis of women who have been discriminated against in the workplace because they have chosen to have children. Shouldn’t their partners who make this choice with them also suffer? Or better still, no one should suffer because of the most natural thing on earth – child birth.

But that’s not my problem right now. My problem is that I am still referred to as a copy girl. I am not a fucking copy girl, I am a copy writer. And don’t even pretend for one second that you think I am girl because I’ve seen you staring at my boobs, yes my womanly bosom.

My problem is that every day I listen to my girlfriends talk about how they have been treated by men. He takes them for a date, says he enjoyed it and then ignores her. They sleep together and he ignores her afterwards. He says he isn’t ready to commit ( fuck off , she only asked you to come round). He says she is being needy. All the while she meticulously follows those silly rules that society has set for us. Don’t text back straight away, don’t sleep with him on the first date, don’t introduce him to your parents too quickly, don’t call him when he doesn’t call you and the list goes on. Why does this happen? I know my friends and I aren’t all angels but I keep getting the feeling that somewhere along the line men have figured out that they always have the upper hand and they act like that.

We might all be sexually liberated but is this a sign that we are equal to men? I don’t think so, do you? It means we are copying the behaviour of men without taking on the other aspects of it, which they are allowed to enjoy.

To mark tomorrow, the artist Sam Taylor Wood (I won’t go into my huge dislike of her right now) has made a short film with Daniel Craig to highlight the reality of being a woman. It makes me slightly sad that they seem to think that the only way to get people to stop and listen is to use a man dressing up as woman. Oooo the hunky James Bond in drag. Give a shit. Anyway take a look and see what you think.

Nah not really, I miss it. With work becoming increasingly more frustrating I need an outlet to write about what I want to, in the style I want and with shitloads of swear words.

So, where am I going to start?

Come on you know me, it’s something that disgusts me and involves the sexist treatment  of women, by themselves but also by the dreaded Paddy McGuiness. Take Me Out.

If you are fortunate enough not to have seen the programme the basic premise is this: McGuinness will try to match a single man with one of 30 women from across the UK. The man enters the studio and announces just his name, age and where he is from. Each of the girls has a light in front of them, and if they decide the man is not for them, they switch it off. The women continue to rule themselves in or out as the suitor reveals more of his personality, before one is eventually chosen to go on a date. While this is going on McGuinness says as string of offensive and disgusting (ok sometimes amusing) phrases, examples being Let the winkle see the picker! or Let the pinky see the perky!

What’s interesting is that on face value it looks like it is the man who will actually suffer sexist treatment. And they do to an extent. Why should women be able to turn on and off a light just because they don’t like the look of someone and why should the men have to impress the women?

But it’s not that. What it is is an embarrassment to all women everywhere. These 30 women dress up to the nines and flutter there eyelids in an attempt to catch the eye of the one man who has his pick from 30, yes 30 women. These women are desperate. Or they might not be but they certainly act it.

Despite misgivings, I and others may have, the programme is popular, I’ve found myself watching it week after week to see if certain contestants ( JoJo and Lucy,ahem) ever get picked. But at the end of the day it’s just like school but on television for millions to see. The women are inevitably picked on their looks and the man who is the most attractive always has the most options left at the end regardless of his personality.

Why are these women doing it? Why are the men? Why do they not do 30 single men one week and then 30 single women the next, at least that way it would be equal humiliation for both sexes.

Unfortunately people will judge a book by it’s cover, but do we really need to see that on a Saturday night in, when we are inevitably hung-over and feeling crap enough as it is anyway?  I certainly no likey.

I was really bloody stressed, to the point where I was having nightmares about work every night. I needed a holiday so managed to get a last minute deal with the muv and big bro to Ibiza for five days. Not to party, just to sleep, read and get some sun.

My expectations of Ibiza were pretty low. Who really goes there? And does anyone really go there not to get off their face and sleep with random strangers? I hate big clubs, I hate girls with fake tan, fake nails and extensions, well hate is a bit strong but it’s not for me.
It can’t all be like that though can it? I thought to myself as we arrived at the airport. After checking in, waiting for hours on the other side, we learn our flight has been cancelled. There is no announcement, it just says it has been rescheduled. People start asking questions, where are we meant to stay? Why has the flight been cancelled? But there is no one from easyjet around.
Three hours later, after much confusion we are back where we started – at the check in gate. Still no easyjet staff and no announcement has been made. No apologies. In the end we find a hotel to stay in, with the promise of a flight at seven thirty the next morning.
Flights do get cancelled, I understand that. My issue is that there is no communication. Easyjet no longer have staff in airports other than Luton. Their work is given to staff from other companies, so they have as little idea of what is going on as the rest of us and to be blunt they couldn’t give a shit about us. It is not really their problem to say sorry to us and reassure us that our much needed holiday will happen.
Anyway when we finally got to Ibiza, I had that feeling of guilt, the same I had when I wrote off my friends new boyfriend as an airhead before I even spoke to him. Ibiza is beautiful. We were staying in Es Canar, the other side of the island from San Antonia, the party side.

Our hotel was completely empty for some reason, which suited me perfectly and everything was really cheap, like a beer was one euro fifty. Bargain. The little town is like a an old school English sea side resort, it is not trying hard to be cool, it is what it is. It is however a tourist town, I don’t think Spanish people really live there, there was a lot of English people running the bars who had been living there for fifteen years.

The thing I like most about getting away is getting the chance to read. I read Mr. Rosenblum’s List: Or Friendly Guidance for the Aspiring Englishman by Natasha Solomons. It says on the cover that it is hilarious. It wasn’t. It deeply upset me and moved me to tears. It’s an easy read about a German couple trying to fit in to Britain after moving there before the war.

The second book I read was A Change in Altitude by Anita Shreve. I always like her books, they are easy to read, well written and have great story lines. This one didn’t disappoint but it made me sad as well. I think there is a lack of happy easy to read books that aren’t chick lit. Oh I did start reading one that came free with Glamour but about ten pages in the character started complaining that she didn’t want to have start dating again at 26, it was too hard for her. At that point I felt so angry that I couldn’t continue reading something so ridiculous.

Sangria

Sooo, after five sunny days, eating, swimming, playing bingo and doing crosswords I was ready to head back to the big bad world. Not without a delayed flight back with easyjet ofcourse…

Gambas

There seems to have been an explosion of sluttyness and inappropriate behaviour in recent weeks.

It started with Miley Cyrus, who unveiled her new single, aptly tilted Can’t Be Tamed with a completely new look, which is a far cry from the little Miley we knew and loved.

The 17-year-old’s new look reached new levels at the MuchMusic Awards in Toronto where she appeared in some very skimpy outfits.

In the same week, a picture of her was released on the internet by Perez Hilton, where it appeared she was wearing no knickers.

Now obviously this sounds shocking, disgusting even, that a grown man would publish a picture like that on his website that would be seen by millions. However, I find it really hard to feel sorry for her.

She appears on stage as an adult, goes out with an older boy, has been seen grinding up against a 40 something year old man and has posed topless in a magazine, so it’s hard to still see her as a child.

But she’s 17, that’s still young.And we all know what happens when people start acting older than their age, ahem Britney Spears.

Speaking recently Miley said:

“I’m not trying to be ‘slutty,

“I feel more comfortable dressing with a little less, which is just how I’ve always been. Now I’m able to do that a little more freely and, also, I’ve just grown up to be this way, too. It’s not like this was me five years ago. It’s me now, presently.’’

Then there is Gossip Girl star and singer in The Pretty Reckless, Taylor Momsen, who I personally find more worrying.

At just 16, she has started dressing in just stockings, a t-shirt and stripper heels. On top of that it has been reported she smokes and drinks whiskey on stage (both of which are illegal).

This is what she had to say recently in FHM uk ( what the hell is she doing there, she is barely legal):

“I’m not looking to be Miley fu**ing Cyrus. I don’t care about the fame.
blah blah blah

“However, I do think the Disney bubblegum sh** that the world is living right now is pathetic. I thought we passed that repression.
blah blah blah

” Our record is a life record. It confronts everything head on. It’s death, love, drugs, sex, religion, politics.”

What? you are 16, how can you sing seriously about these things?

I wouldn’t say I am a prude but I do find it disturbing seeing young girls trying to dress so old, and behaving like adults.

Being a teenage girl is really shitty and hard, what these girls need is a little bit of guidance and someone (like a parent) putting their foot down and saying no. If I tried to leave the house dressed like that at 16, my parents would have gone mental. Just because these girls have adult jobs, it doesn’t mean they have the brains or understanding of adults.

What do you think? Is the media causing a whole lot of fuss about nothing or are these girls out of control?

I really like Big Brother and always have done and always will. Even when everyone started slagging it off I stood by it, so when last summer one of the best seasons, in my eyes, aired I was,it seemed one of the only ones to watch it.

In January I stood in the freezing cold to watch the celeb BB house-mates be evicted, I risked ridicule from friends and colleagues by standing right at the front by the stairs in constant view of the camera. All because I had to be a part of the last ever celeb BB and thank god I was there, to see Alex Reid come down the stairs after Vinnie Jones, is a one off experience.

And I have already got my place at this years final and have already completely and happily excepted that my social life for the next three months is pretty much non existent.

I can see you all looking shocked and thinking I am one stupid loser. You may be right but once I came to terms with my love of BB, it has made my life a lot easier.

Why do I love it so much? I love people and any people, well I love watching people, that’s probably more accurate. I like seeing how people interact, how they get on, how social groups form, how romance starts, how race affects friendship, the things to see are endless.

BB works so well because each week the dynamic has to change when one person is evicted, so it’s like watching a whole new show!

I can already tell this year is going to be really good. The 11th and final series of Big Brother launched with just over 4.5 million viewers on Channel 4 last night, Wednesday 9 June. This was the lowest opening night Big Brother audience since 2001′s second series, when 3.5 million tuned in.

Where have all the viewers gone? Looks like it’s just going to me again this year.

The show started with a twist, there were loads of potential house- mates there who got picked by Big Brother live.

Anyway first in was Josie, 25 from Bristol, with a really strong, almost comical west country accent (sorry).

For the first time the house-mates are present while Davina plays the VT about who they are, so they can see the crowds reaction. I love the crowd, they can make up their minds in seconds about whether they like someone or not. They seem to like Josie. However she has spent the last three days just lying in bed or smoking.

Second in is Steven, 40, the one with no legs and only one eye. He was clearly going to get in,although how they think he is going to compete in most tasks is beyond me. Steven was blown up in Northern Island when he was 19 but he has shown this doesn’t mean your life is over, he has gone on to have 8 children, he plays basketball, talks to troops all over the world and blatantly has The Sun’s vote already. He has also pissed off house-mates with his horrendous snoring and farting in bed.

Third in was writer and broadcaster Ben, 30. Urgh people who say that make me feel sick. He’s just really posh, the crowd hated him. He already has Mario following him around like a lost puppy, and he isn’t really helping the situation as he is extremely tactile.

Next in Rachael, 23, a hair stylist, Beyonce look a like and big mouth.

Fifth in was Nathan, 25, a trainee joiner and all round normal bloke.

Sixth in was David, 39, a Christian minister from South Wales, who entered the house dressed as what appeared to be a monk.

Number seven was Govan, 21, who really there’s isn’t too much to say about, other than that he claims not to be gay but clearly is.

Then we have Caiomhe (pronounced Kee-Vah) a 23-year-old bi- sexual student from Dublin.

Ninth is Ife, 25 and a dancer. So far seems pretty average apart from her collection of wigs.

Tenth is Shabby, 24, who is reportedly a film maker, she lives in a squat, is a lesbian and really annoying.

Number 11 is John James, 24, from Australia. I personally do not want him in the house. He doesn’t even live in England. He’s vaguely cute but really really dim.

Then we have Sunshine, 24. who is already highly annoying. A vegan medical student, who clearly is not mentally stable enough to be there.

Unlucky 13th is Corin, 29, who kind of looks a bit like Jordan and has an extreme Stockport accent.

And finally we have Mario, 28, who is a Big Brother obsessive. He was picked to go into the hosue randomly and had to go in wearing a mole costume. His mission was to make sure no one found out he was a mole, while doing loads of things to sabotage the house. Somehow is got away with it and is now a fully fledged house-mate.

See! How could you not want to watch a show with such a crazy bunch of characters?