James Bond are you stalking me?

I woke up with crippling cramps and a fierce headache, Emin announced he had bought tickets  for the early showing of Quantum of Solace. Oh Joy, so I got up, threw up and took one Nurofen short of a suicide bid and I was good to go, well crawl.

All my life I have been stalked by Bond, as a child my father would like nothing more than to watch the old Bond films on Christmas Day. Not my cup of tea but a happy dad = a happy family so we would all crowd round the new tele for a couple of hours of misogynistic fun and frolics. In a house full of women revenge was sweet, all be it for a couple of hours.

Later at Art College I became an unlikely friend of a lovely calm elegant student. She lived in a house that was so big, when her parents sold it, they made it into a Hotel. A group of us would hang out there some evenings and, as you do we would trawl through the record collection looking for cool music. I found the soundtrack to Midnight Cowboy, which I love. Emma then told us that her uncle had written it! Her uncle was John Barry... She rarely saw him because of tax issues and maybe other issues, but what a fabulous uncle to have. 

Enough? nope. my husband was a complete Bond fanatic, obsessed, he collected Japanese pressings of the soundtracks, they were about the same thickness of a piece of two ply. He even managed to wangle his way into a press viewing of a new Bond film. We even had our first dance at the wedding to We Have All The Time in the World. Sadly as it turns out, we did not, and I moved on.

A few years later I got on very well with someone at work, it transpired his brother was (still is actually) one of the writers, so I was regaled with various stories about flights on Lear Jets and broken bones. He finally managed to blag a day on set with Halle Berry only to forget to put film in his camera. 

I moved schools and finally thought I had escaped, but then I saw Emin prefixes his email address with.. yep you guessed it 007.