Next time you watch Strictly Come Dancing, try not imagining Jo Brand when you see John Sergeant talk… it’s uncanny.
Month: September 2008
Strictly Come Dancing’s Erin Boag’s facial transformation
Watching Saturday’s new series of Strictly Come Dancing, our eyes were drawn to only one thing.
No, not the awfulness of Gary Rhodes’ cha-cha, nor Ola Jordan’s ridiculously unflattering catsuit, but the amazing transformation of professional New Zealand dancer, Erin Boag.
It’s not that she was unattractive before, but she’s now gone totally Hollywood. Aside from the hair colour change, from severe black to a softer golden brown, she has clearly had some other serious work done.
We sat on the sofa and spent ages trying to work out exactly what she’d had done. Definitely veneers, which has completely changed her smile. On top of that, it looks as if she’s had a touch of Botox and possibly some fillers.
It’s pretty impressive and she looks amazing – far younger, far more confident and far more glitzy.
If that wasn’t enough, we were also convinced that Tess Daly has had her boobs reduced, but that’s not quite as obvious!
Cracking opener to the series and, although I’d have loved to see Gary Rhodes go, his dancing will keep us entertained for a couple more weeks yet!
Death
I’ve been thinking a lot about death recently. Not quite as grim as it may sound, but not exactly uplifting, I know.
It’s what happens when your Dad has a brain tumour that just won’t go away and you have a godmother who, according to some people, is not going to last much longer.
I suppose it has something to do with my age. You hear a lot about people in their mid-30s starting to experience older relatives.
Inevitably, this is what seems to be happening to me.
Admittedly, I could be writing a year from now and both of those people will be still be alive and kicking – and god knows how I hope that’s the case.
Anyway, back to death specifically. People have different perspectives at different times of their life. I know there was a small window when I was incredibly fearful of it.
And, to be honest, having young children does give me a little shiver, but I know that if I went tomorrow then I wouldn’t be devastated.
When it is time to go, there’s not a lot you can do about it, is there? Sure you can fight it sometimes, but if your number rises to the surface, then why keep forcing it back down?
I often dream about standing up giving the eulogy at people’s funerals. OK, so I haven’t dreamt my own yet, but it’s actually pretty comforting. It gets you used to the idea and hopefully means you’re less likely to be distraught when it truly happens.
I suppose going is worst for those left behind. All I want people to know is that I loved them and that it’s time to party and not be sad. Simple, really.