Why Eleven Year Old Lizzie Modelled Herself on Sarah Parish

There used to be this TV show on the BBC called Mistresses. It was a drama about four thirty-something women, who were best friends, and the various hiccups in their love lives. It was first on three or four years ago, as I was starting high school.
This was also the time I was swiftly turning into the complete BBC nerd which I am today, and Mistresses was one of the first TV shows which I felt that connection to where the characters became real to me, long before Hustle and even before Britannia High (I'll get on to that).
The four main characters were Trudi, (Sharon Small) a cheerful, housewife and 9-11 widow with annoyingly low self-esteem, Siobhan, (Orla Brady) a lawyer whose marriage is unstable due to her husband's apparent infertility and ends up pregnant, the father being another guy she works with, unsure whether to keep lying for the first five or so episodes. Jessica, (Shelly Conn) was a bubbly, promiscuous events planner, who fell in love unexpectedly with a lesbian whose civil ceremony she was playing and Katie, (Sarah Parish) a GP who had an affair with a terminally ill patient and helped in giving him an overdose, and now his son is on the case.
Watch it. It's so good.
The point is, the way that it inspired me. I was desperate to live this glamorously, and also to find a solid and tight group of friends, so I tried hard to match my friends to each of the characters, and so I did so, with a small, fairly tight-knitted group of friends I had through guides (I wasn't too popular at school in those days), which was obviously hard with eleven-thirteen year olds. My friend Beth (but not you, Beth ;) ) assigned me Katie and I was pretty pleased that my friends seemed to think I was mature, but I didn't start wearing tailored suits.

Sometimes with blogging, something seems interesting and like you can talk about it for a long time... and then you can't. It's sad.

Other stuff:
I've had a really awesome day today. I went out for breakfast. I moved a couple of steps towards living on the edge. I pulled a muscle in my stomach and learnt that I can't say "Ibuprofen" (sp?).