You know you're tired when your mother refers to armadillos as 'armadildos' for a whole day and you don't notice until it's time to go home. Fortunately, we were at ZSL London Zoo, not a children's puppet show.

It was very cold. I was hoping it would warm up a little bit but it really didn't. As a result, I had my hands shoved into my coat pockets all day unless they were wrapped round a coffee. This also meant that I didn't pet any baby goats in the children's farm, or stroke the lovely pigs. The Bearded Pigs, by the way, were definitely the stars of the show. They were our first feeding visit of the day, and they were very cute and snorty and generally loveable.

Mum wasn't keen on the Komodo Dragons but they are my favourite, so we watched a keeper sit with the biggest male and pick his skin and give him a massage (which was awesome) and was very envious. The Galapagos Turtles, which were huge, lazy and incredibly slow also made good viewing.

As to be expected, there were school groups but they ran around getting glimpses and moving on so I was glad we had a bit more time to watch animals like the lions and tigers. Who both sat and slept seemingly all day. We visited them twice, a little later on the second time when the big groups had gone and the tigers were obviously aware it was nearly tea time and one of them was up on its feet. Being face to face with him, if just for a moment, was pretty cool.

I was pretty jealous of the lizards, who were in tanks heated to about 27 degrees and looked toasty warm. I wonder what life is like for them. They live longer but they don't have the freedom. Do you think they know they are saving their own species as they just sit there? I wish I could be that valuable and yet that lazy.

It would certainly stop me feeling guilty about having a 'lie-in' until 8:45.

Hey Little World, coincidentally a song by The Hives. My favourite song by The Hives. The point still stands. Hello. I haven't blogged for a while because I've had nothing to say as nothing has happened. Nothing of 'interest' anyway.

I haven't seen Harry Potter yet, I'm not watching I'm A Celebrity, I saw Merlin on Sunday instead of Saturday (anarchy). My new PIN still hasn't arrived so I still don't have any access to my money. I have planned and know what I'm getting LAUBLA for her birthday, though Christmas is still a little fuzzy. I'm five chapters into Black Butterfly by Mark Gatiss, and loving it. My calendar for November remains remarkably empty, but that's probably because I haven't filled it in much. I'm trying to drink more water than I usually do. Was I paid for last week? I still don't know.

Oi, Mr Capello. Play Crouch as a starting forward, not an 84th minute substitute.

Matt Cardle is still on his way to winning The X Factor, by flaunting his glorious arms and beautiful voice. What a sexy bitch. UNF.

Sorry Laura.

Work today was a laugh and a half, let me tell you. Called at 9ish, in by 10ish and out at 4:30. Ish.

I just knew today was going to be awful when a whole group of pikeys walked in. I know 'pikey' is a horrible word and probably offensive but there really is no other word that I can use to describe these creatures. There was a girl in a turquoise velour tracksuit with her mum, I think, and a girl who said nothing but looked alarmingly like a grumpy heron. Her face was remarkably pointy. Anyway they had these bizarre accents and ordered a ton of food like eclairs and a toasted sandwich. Then two more guys came in and were horribly rude to poor Ross who put up with it and made one guy a toasted baguette. As they were toasting my boss signalled for me to come up into the kitchen where she said "...watch out what drinks they're having because they keep taking them off the shelf" and, indeed, they were helping themselves to milk and Red Bull.

Eventually, after 'finishing', the girls stood up and headed for the door, signalling for all the others to go to. I shouted "Excuse me? I think you need to pay?" and the turquoise girl goes "I already have, haven't I?" to which I actually almost laughed. Anyway, she handed the uglier boy a fiver and they all left the shop, even though their order cost £13.11, and this guy just stood there holding out the fiver as my boss pointed out that that really wasn't going to cover it and "...this bill needs paying". So he argued pointlessly that it wasn't even his order, which was fair enough, and shoved a handful of coins into my boss's hand before stomping out himself. All three of us were in a bad mood and weirdly quite shakey, my boss asking me quietly "...are you okay?" as I went to fetch more lettuce.

"Fine," I replied, because I was. "but I think you should tell Ross to put that knife down."

And then, 5 minutes before I could leave, I was cleaning the coffee machine. I hadn't done it for a while so forgot to keep the funnels on the pipe from inside which usually directs the liquid downwards. Instead, I pressed 'rinse' and the boiling hot water shot straight out, straight into the middle of my chest. I shouted an "OH, OH PANTS!" because there was a family trying to eat krispie cakes behind me, and tried to stop the flow with my hands.

If you saw 'The Waters of Mars', it was that kind of jet propulsion but into me, rather than out.

Anyway, Ross ran down and we scrabbled around trying to attach everything back on by which point the water, thankfully, had stopped.

It's now 17:40 and hopefully nothing else crap can happen tonight. Hopefully.

As you probably know by now, the brilliant Martin Freeman has been cast as Bilbo Baggins in the new 2-part adaption of The Hobbit. If you didn't know this, where is this rock you've been living under? What have you been doing with yourself? The God-like Peter Jackson has been quoted as saying "...there has only ever been one Bilbo Baggins for us...Martin is intelligent, funny, surprising and brave. Exactly like Bilbo...". C'mon, the guy even looks like a Hobbit. It's a casting made in Heaven. Returning as their original characters of Gandalf, Gollum and Elrond respectively are Ian McKellen, Andy Serkis and Hugo Weaving. Sylvester McCoy will become Radagast the Brown. Awesome, awesome, awesome.

So that's all well and good but it's not what I wanted to blog about. I want to blog about the casting director's choices for the dwarves. Now, I'm not saying I know anything about being a casting director. From past experience I have perhaps not been the fairest judge of character (*ahem* Matt Smith as the Doctor and my following humiliation as he turned out to be utterly fantastic). On the whole, the choices for the majority of the dwarves in The Hobbit all sound great.

Spooks actor Richard Armitage is lead dwarf Thorin, Being Human actor Aiden Turner is Kili and a host of well-respected Kiwi actors and Jackson-associates complete the casting. It's nice to see quiet, proper actors being given the chance to shine for once.

My problem lies with the casting of Fili. They've cast Rob Kazinsky, an ex-EastEnders actor. For those who are unaware of Mr Kazinsky, he's the guy who got suspended from EastEnders for bombarding a woman with dirty text messages and photos of himself. Including one of a pig with his cock for a head. Classy.

I suppose he's probably a nice guy in real life or whatever and a reasonably good actor, Jackson likes him, but as a big LotR fan, and an admirer of Tolkein in general, I'd really rather have actors who can be relied upon not to act like schoolboys in one of the most anticipated fantasy films in recent years. Sorry if that's uppity, but I can't help it. I just prefer my actors with dignity.

The Hobbit (Part One) will be out in 2012.

In a perfect world the Sun would always be shining. People would be friendly and understanding. Kittens would dance with puppies at a disco arranged by unicorns and Oreos would be a standard health requirement. Unfortunately for all of us, we do not live in a perfect world. Far from it, in fact. Take yesterday for instance. I had a filling, and that meant an injection. It does not usually mean that one side of my face swells up, but that was indeed what happened. Cue an uncomfortable night's sleep after a surprisingly delicious chicken soup. I went to work today in hurricane conditions with a puffy face expecting a normal day. This did not happen.

The front page of The Sun this morning was a large photo of a yob kicking the Tory HQ apart during the 'hijacked' student protest. So this woman comes in and orders a bag full of stuff and when my back is turned, looks at the paper. She then announces after a moment's serious thought "...if they [students] want to go to University, they have to pay for it." She then went on to talk loudly about how students behaved disgustingly on the protest and insinuated heavily that the middle-class already have enough money to pay for it so what are they so protesting about?

Ooh, I don't know. Maybe £9,000+ a year student fees? Perhaps? WELL?

I was actually shaking with rage. My swollen cheek was wobbling with fury. It had a mind of its own. I made extra effort to be super-sloppy with her egg mayo sandwich, enjoying myself as I slapped mayonnaise all over the crusts. That'll teach her. Egg mayo in return for ignorance.

Handily, my bad mood was soon forgotten as a huge gust of wind (tornado-esque) ripped our shop awning from its brackets and across the road, onto the front bonnet of a car trying to reverse. I would've laughed, except someone seriously lacking a sense of humour was trying to order a cheese sandwich. Meanwhile, my boss was running about in the road attempting to gather up the awning in the pissing rain, apologising profusely to the driver and trying not to slip over.

10 minutes later we got a message on the till that honestly read "PLEASE WITHDRAW ALL AWNINGS. WIND IS VERY STRONG." My boss bellowed a "for fuck's sake" which pretty much summed up my exact emotions at that point in time. I shrugged, and got on with wiping bacon off my shoe.

Watch yourself. Changes are a-coming.

Big? Small? Positive? Negative? Who knows?!

Waking up at 6:30am yesterday morning really wasn't as bad as I would otherwise make it out to be. It was (finally) my last university open day, this time at Northampton, the hometown of Matt Smith. After my sausage bap and our coffees in Debenhams, we went to catch the bus following the instructions in the prospectus, which stated that the No. 21 bus runs to the Uni from Stop C. Approaching the bus timetable, we were able to read that in fact, the No. 21 doesn't actually go anywhere on Saturdays as it doesn't even run on weekends.

If you are expecting the day to perk up after this, think again.

Luckily the No. 19 ran to where we needed to go so we hopped on and finally made it to the campus. Opposite an enormous and spacious park, the place itself wasn't too unattractive. Unlike the back end of town which we wandered through, which was dominated with pound shops and a 'Booze City'. We headed for speedy booking, which took longer than turning up without booking, and were told that we'd be collected from the main hall to go to the journalism talk at 11.

While waiting, we played a fun game called 'Guess Who's The Course Leader For What', at which we were reasonably accurate, correctly guessing that the snappily dressed woman was head of fashion and textiles and the man in the braces was English. A man then came in dressed in a black t-shirt, jeans, and bearing a strong resemblance to Edgar Wright. He called the journalism people, as well as media production and film and television studies.

So we headed off to this room, which was already full of people. Edgar then announced to us all that he was actually the head of music production or some other bollocks, but was going to do the talk off a slide show for us for some reason. Meanwhile, an Irish man stood facing away from us, occasionally muttering words we couldn't make out. At the risk of sounding like an old drama teacher, the acoustics were terrible, and as we were at the back, we couldn't hear a thing. The entire talk was focused on media and film and television, with no effort to discuss journalism whatsoever.

After nearly 40 minutes of "mumble numble...rumble...bleughhh" the Irish man, who turned out to be the representative from journalism, announced he was going to take people on tours of the studios. He took the first two rows. There were approximately eight. We were the last. While waiting, Edgar put on a film that we couldn't hear either which did mention some journalism stuff but not much.

We gave up waiting, and went to reception to ask if they had a hall where we could talk to someone one-to-one, like at all the other open days we'd been to. The girl didn't want to say no, so she got this poor man to run around trying to find someone to talk to us. Eventually, the half Dean or something came to see us and announced she didn't really know the journalism course either, that the head of the subject was at home "...because he has a family" and proceeded to spend 15 minutes reading off a booklet we already had, just bullshitting to within an inch of her life. She was really quite good at it.

So we went for lunch, which was pretty cheap (that's a good thing) and decided to check out the library (which was also pretty good) before waiting for 40 minutes at a bus stop to come home.

This morning I got an email asking for my opinion on the open day. Was it well organised? Did I get all I needed from it?

I wonder what I'll put.

I've developed an unattractive habit. Whenever I collapse into an armchair, sofa or bed, I can't help but sigh an audible "Oh, God". I can't be that tired. And I'm not religious. Maybe I'm just grumpy. Maybe it's because I'm flippin' ILL.

Yes, Niagra Nose has returned! And I'm sneezing a lot. But my sore throat has pretty much gone leaving me sounding like a disgruntled Darth Vader. I may have another bath tonight.

It's so exhausting being an up and coming writer. When I'm not rubbing shoulders with actors and producers I'm off having photoshoots. Yes, tomorrow Laura and I are off to have a makeover and photos taken in a studio in Farringdon. I'm very much looking forward to it, and apparently they do photoshopping stuff so my bright red nose can be edited into normality.

"YOU CANNOT BUY MY OPINION, LIKE YOU WOULD BUY A USED MOTOR CAR!"

Okey kokey, pig-in-a-pokey! Time to complete my '10 things...' list.

Psychoville was absolutely excellent last night, and if you haven't seen it yet, do so NOW! Reece Shearsmith was even more brilliant in person than I think Laura and I ever expected. Very fidgety, very funny and generally a really, really awesome person. (I hate the phrase 'down to Earth'). "Steve...I done a bad preview..."

TEN things you wish you could say to TEN different people right now.

10. Right, so...see you at Christmas?

9. I wish you'd stayed behind.

8. I want the old you back. Is it possible?

7. I'm really quite glad it all got sorted out in the end.

6. I wish I'd just done it when I had the chance. Perhaps things would be different.

5. I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you for ages.

4. Stop treating me like a freaking monkey drone.

3. It's really not THAT difficult you know.

2. Please please sort it out! It's really bloody worrying!

1. I was disappointed that I hadn't gone to University this year. But actually, the thought of missing out on all this epicness and general brilliance with you makes me thankful I did stay behind.

NINE things about yourself.

9. I tire of things easily.

8. I know what I want to do...more or less.

7. I have no drive to go back to the gym, but I do have to.

6. I'm pretty excited for the upcoming months.

5. But I fear I'm neglecting the important stuff for the fun stuff.

4. I HATE mouth ulcers (just because I have one right now).

3. I have an insane knowledge of fonts. Like, text ones not religious ones.

2. I have man shoulders and I dislike my hair. Still.

1. Reading Conversations makes me feel better no matter what's wrong.

EIGHT ways to win your heart.

8. Embrace the nerdiness.

7. Cook good stuff.

6. Don't be easily put off.

5. Love Doctor Who, unconditionally.

4. Be ready for laziness.

3. Prepare to watch a lot of scifi/fantasy movies.

2. Be funny.

1. Just...be lovely.

SEVEN things that cross your mind a lot.

7. Migraines.

6. Work.

5. Money.

4. The internet.

3. Stresssssss!

2. Kitties.

1. What am I doing tomorrow?

SIX things you do before you fall asleep?

6. Turn my laptop charger off at the wall.

5. Write my diary.

4. Read.

3. Arrange my pillows.

2. Put Star on the bed.

1. Sleep.

FIVE people who mean a lot to you at the moment.

5. Them, specifically Him.

4. Fam.

3. D-Girrlllll!

2. My friends at Uni.

1. My friends at home.

FOUR things you see right now.

4. The framed prom picture.

3. My picture wall.

2. The Vesuvius Club.

1. My camera.

THREE songs that you listen to often.

3. Oh My God - Ida Maria

2. The xx - VCR

1. Well All Right - The Hives

TWO things you want to do before you die.

1. Tick everything off the list, and a lot of it is unlikely.

2. Be one of them.

ONE confession.

1. Everything is always so difficult. I'm amazed we all cope.

Laura's desktop background is the same as mine, so I'm going to show you what my desk area/work station/laptop zone looks like.