Katie Price has clearly had a great time partying day and night in Ibiza for the last week or so. Good for her. Everyone needs to let their hair down sometimes. 

 

However I will restrain myself from commenting on some of the 'outfits' she was photographed cavorting in. And I won't pass judgement on her decision to have a big X tattooed over the tattoo of her ex husbands name on her arm.  Mmmm. 

 

However, Katie, or Jordan as she seems to have regressed to, does not look like a happy girl to me.  There is something kind of manic, and dare I say it, more than a little sad about this mom of three children behaving more like a teenager on a drunken binge holiday in the sun. 

 

Where are her friends?  We all need good pals who can hit us with the truth when we ourselves can't see the wood from the trees.  And to me (and my perhaps over active imagination) Katie, although surrounded by people, looks lonely and lost.

 

In the meantime, Peter Andre is playing the perfect father and indeed stepfather as pictures of him spending time with their children in Cyprus seem to prove.  The photos, especially of him and Harvey are heart warming. 

 

Look at what you have lost, Katie.  It is no wonder you are acting so crazy.  If I was your friend I would be telling you to take time out and make sure you are doing the right thing.

 

Or is this all some bizarre PR game that is too subtle for me to understand? 

This week I was struck by two photographs which appear on the website. One was of Emma Thompson and Dustin Hoffman at the premiere of their new movie Last Chance Harvey. The other was of Sophie Dahl and her fiancé Jamie Cullum attending a fundraising dinner at Hampton Court.

 

Yes, you've got it! What's the story with taller women and smaller men? Is it just me or does anyone else think that this arrangement looks just a little strange?

 

I've not seen the movie Last Chance Harvey, but I would bet money that in it the height differential between Ms Thompson and Mr Hoffman is not as obvious as it was in real life at the premiere.  If my theory is right, I think it proves that, for many of us, the sight of tall women with significantly smaller men is a little uncomfortable. 

 

Am I just ridiculously old fashioned about wanting to feel a little protected by my man and to be able to comfortably able to rest my head on his shoulder? And how on earth does dancing work? I'm fascinated. Am I alone?

 

Perhaps my fascination has something to do with the fact that I'm six feet tall. And for the record my other half is not Mr Universe, he's also six feet tall. But it works!

Britain's Got Talent was a huge hit in our house. My kids, aged from 21 to eight (I've only got three; the one in the middle is ten) loved it and were glued to it every week. Our personal favourite was Stavros Flatley. The humour and affection between father and son was a joy which lit up their uninhibited performances. They were brilliant. Their lack of talent was more than made up for by their attitude, which seemed to be "we are having a great laugh and making great memories that we will dine out on for years." It was wonderful stuff.

At the other end of the scale was Susan Boyle. Like everyone else I was very moved by her beautiful voice and I was cheered by the fact that here was a middle-aged woman who has clearly missed all the widespread advice about botox, anti-ageing creams and even a good eyebrow trim. But what a talent. I read about her life in Scotland, where she was clearly a well-known and much-loved member of her local community, active in her church and living quietly with her cat, and it seemed idyllic.

So as the press interest in her increased I did start to have some concerns as to how she would cope. And so it is with sadness I read she was admitted to the Priory Clinic after the final of Britain's Got Talent. Perhaps fame and massive fortune are not for Susan. I am now hoping she will be surrounded by good people who will care for her and give her the best advice.

And that may just be to look back on all this as a wonderful adventure, a story to tell around her fireside in Scotland as winter closes in and the nights grow longer. Maybe it will be enough to just be a local hero, rather than an international one. Either way - I wish her well!