Scobie snacks, Miss Dent, the age of parental death and whether to embrace the Christmas tree!

There's so much in the news about this Endgame book but it just leaves a nasty taste in my mouth. So let's discuss...

Willkomen! Bienvenue! Welcome!

Let’s get to it then…

SCOBIE SNACKS

Let’s talk Scobie Snacks. I know Omid Scobie a little. We once snogged at some showbiz after party and I ended up back at his gaff in Angel (I think). Those were sketchy drunken days to say the least. I was first to arrive and last to leave the party.

The thing about people like Omid that I really don’t get is what are they really trying to achieve in life? They’re essentially making a living by writing about the inner workings of a family that’s been in the spotlight throughout its lifetime. But it’s all so darn negative.

Well, it’s kinda the shitty job I used to do. Snooping around, writing continually from “sources” about people’s lives and generally digging up the dirt. Thinking I knew what was going on. Sometimes we were correct, sometimes we were way off and sometimes our sources were just wanting to grab their £2,000 cheque in the post or off the back of a courier bike.

I also just don’t get how somebody like Omid has ended up doing this for a living. The guy was hardly setting the showbiz world alight on magazines. He was pretty invisible back then.

Sure, at some point Meghan and Harry have supposedly fed him the juice and he’s forever going to be deemed their “mouthpiece”. But the reality is all he does is write showbiz-style gossip about the Royals as if he has the inside track. But how much inside track does he have? Is he in touch with Meghan and Harry right now? I doubt it. Knowing people who are in close contact with Harry myself, I can’t envisage Harry being stupid enough to continue nurturing this relationship with direct contact.

Meghan, on the other hand, may well still be in touch with Scobie for his snacks. She was fame hungry after all. Working the showbiz writers in London to see if she could date footballers or famous UK celebs to further her blossoming career. I just can’t help but think Scobie’s real source is Team Meghan. Some daft PR thinking they’re doing a great job. Continually guiding the narrative down a hugely damaging narrative for the Royal Family.

I guess here I am and life is so very different from where somebody like Omid resides. I wake up in the morning with the clearest conscience. I know who I am, what energy I’m putting into the world and where I’m heading. I think if I was still nurturing my ego, writing crap about people for a living and generally just putting that energy out into the universe I’d be thoroughly miserable.

Omid’s not the only one doing it. There are still people I used to work alongside who are still slaving away with their tabloid ways. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, this type of journalism or writing feels like the most backward form of industry. It’s only a matter of time before it all crumbles. Gossip will always have a place in the world. But it’s in a huge transitional period right now with social media and mobile phones.

No doubt this book will be a global bestseller but at what cost? A person’s morals and happiness? I think so.

NOT SO HAPPY GRACE…

I know Grace Dent was highly excited about going into the jungle. She told me a while back. But the reality of being on a show like that with ITV, being a pawn in the game and generally having no control over life is not something everybody can cope with.

Watching that final moment when Grace found out she was chosen by the public to take part in another challenge was a very hard scene to watch. And LIVE. Nowhere for her to hide the pain and deteriorating mental state.

I was genuinely happy when I read she’d left the jungle. Hope she manages to claw herself back to normality and is able to reflect on the experience with some sort of a smile.

Personally, I don’t think being trapped in a jungle with somebody like Nigel Farage would be something I could handle. Other journalists would have gone for the jugular with Farage for the ratings. But Grace is a kind human with, er, grace in her heart. Onwards, Dent.

THINGS I’VE LOVED THIS WEEK

·      Jo Whiley’s nightly BBC Radio Two Show. The best music, the best vibes and genuinely enthralling every time. Perfect for my working late evenings.

·      All the Light we Cannot See on Netflix. I loved the book and I have to say the telly adaptation is totally captivating and really moving.

·      Kylie Minogue’s new single Hold on to Now. Not really getting the buzz I feel it deserves. It’s big.

·      Girls Aloud’s return to performing with their arena tour next year. It’s a big fat YES to this tour in memory of Sarah Harding.

·      THAT Strictly moment with Bobby Brazier’s routine depicting his grief surrounding his mother Jade Goody’s death all those years ago. The tears rolled.

·      Finally there’s a good Mexican restaurant on the King’s Road. Check out Ixchel. The most amazing selection of tequila too.

TO BOTHER WITH A TREE OR NOT?

Last year I really went for it. The tree was ordered (I went eco for the first time and had a ‘live’ one that was collected post-Christmas to be re-planted) and I went crazy on decorations. There was a Madonna tree decoration and I even bought new lights.

But this year I’m not feeling it. I’m also not hosting anybody at home. So, I’m left with this decision – am I bad to just say “fuck the tree” and go without?

Before you think it or say it, I’m not feeling blue and I’m perfectly happy. I’m just out so much throughout the Christmas season (anybody else’s diary absolutely mental this year?) that I’m not sure I can be arsed with the drama of ordering it, dressing it, occasionally talking to it and then having to do the clean up once Christmas is over. It just feels like a lot to deal with.

On the plus side, I can report I’ve written all my Christmas cards and they’re all stamped up and ready to go this week in time for December 1. Last year I went “aggressively early” according to my mother and friends, and I didn’t want to repeat that smuggypants performance.

So maybe for this year I’m just going to have a year off. I’ll return next year and will go full pelt. That’s settled then, thanks for listening to my Christmas conundrum. No tree will be coming through this door.

THE AGE OF PARENTAL DEATH

This week I’ll be attending a school friends’ memorial for their parents who died recently. Another one of the gang lost her lovely dad just a week ago too.

It feels like as we approach our mid-forties we are fully embracing the time in one’s life when parents begin to get sick and start to die.

It’s been 15 years since my own father passed away. My memory of that time in my life is a little sketchy to say the least. I know being in your late twenties and losing a parent is far too young. You end up missing out on all those formative years of becoming a fully-fledged adult. It feels like so long ago now that it happened to me that in some ways I can’t fully hear his voice and that sometimes troubles me. I hate the thought of that sound drifting away.

Each time one of my close pals loses a parent it rips away at me.

You know what they’re going through, how they’re feeling and how they’re trying to navigate the end of one of the most important people in their lives. It’s not an easy process.

I often write a letter to my close friends when it happens and there’s honestly only one thing I offer to them as advice and that’s follow your gut on every decision. Don’t let anybody sway you otherwise. It’s a big fucking deal losing a parent and until you’ve been there you can’t fully understand that fact.

Sure, there’s the obvious stuff – make sure you eat (even though you won’t want too), make sure you talk ONLY if you want too and generally only see who you want too. Just remember, you don’t owe anything to anybody apart from yourself during that time.

Obviously, sometimes you’ll need to hold your shit together for the rest of the family until after the funeral. But just know that those real true friends will be there to catch you when you fall. You will fall…eventually.

So to Kathleen and Miranda, I’m here for you. Always. On your terms and when you’re ready.

Until next week, Kids.