It's like Glastonbury, but with less stupid frocks

Scarily, I think I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I've been out en Becky since the last Sparkle, but it's still kind of pleasing to know that this year's event is already firmly penned into the diary. I've even pulled one of those fingers out exceptionally early in order to book an apartment at The Place, which means this year I won't be slogging across Manchester in entirely unsuitable heels to crash the parties that are bound to be held there. (Does anyone abide by The Place's "strict no-party rule"?)

So, er, anyone else going? Apart from me, that is... and Jane... and Isobel who's paying for half of our apartment. Speaking of which, I should really email to tell her that.