I COULDN'T believe it either. According to a survey, one in ten Britons has lost the will to live. It seemed a startlingly high number, until I read on. The results, published by an Internet psychotherapist site, were based on responses from those few hundred sad nerds who logged onto the site and were then prepared to waste hours in front of the computer screen answering 80 initimate questions from a psychoanalyst about their state of mind. Now I'm more convinced than ever the survey is wrong. Only one in ten?

I ALWAYS pictured the Queen as quite a frugal, abstemious woman, rushing round the palace turning down heating and switching unnecessary lights off. At least, that's what the royal PR machine would have us believe. But now I read that, in Milan, she rented an extra room for £315 a night below her £4,300-a-night hotel suite, just to house her shoes. It is an unfortunate reminder of fellow shoe-lover Imelda Marcos, who became grander as her downfall approached. Our royal family has never been more unpopular. Perhaps it's time they curbed, rather than flaunted, their excesses.

NORMAN Cook, known as Fatboy Slim, says he wants to be shot if he starts writing songs about his new baby, claiming musicians who write songs for their children have lost their edge. Which brings me to the lyrics of Norman's latest release, about his TV presenter wife Zoe Ball: "With no brassiere on, she's shaking like two balloons in a hurricane". I don't think Norman should worry should he get the urge to write about his baby. Because it can't get any worse than this.

COSMOPOLITAN magazine is aimed at young, dynamic career woman. But, like so many glossies, it is often out of step with the realities of modern life. The latest issue promotes power flirting. According to Cosmo, we should use techniques such as the "six second eye lock" and "handshake from heaven" to get everything the modern woman could want, from a better job to faster service at the greengrocer's. Don't they realise the person running the fruit and veg shop or interviewing you for that new job may actually be...a woman?

MY attempts to become a Domestic Goddess seem doomed to failure. The gorgeous Nigella Lawson in her book and TV series makes it look easy as she glides sexily through the kitchen, leaving a trail of nutmeggy baking pie fumes in her wake. I have tried. But it is disheartening when everyone shouts "Yuck" as soon as I produce anything I have baked (and that is before they have tasted it). When I suggest I might try a cake, my husband looks worried. He reminds me about the only birthday cake I ever made him, ten years ago. I thought my Black Forest gateaux recipe was foolproof. I bought two small chocolate cakes, spread jam and a tin of black cherries in the middle and iced it with melted cooking chocolate. After smashing it to crack it open, he reluctantly took a bite and nearly choked on the stones which were still inside the cherries. I wonder if Nigella has ever had this problem?

LIKE many council tenants, my friend's mother Joan thought the 1980 Housing Act, introduced 20 years ago this month to give people the right to buy their council homes, was a good thing. Then a divorcee, she had lived happily in her rented three-bedroomed house in Kent, where she had raised her family of three, for 20 years. When she re-married, she and her new husband bought it for a small sum. Now they are separating, he has moved out and wants half the value of the house, now worth about £90,000. Aged 60 and working in a care home, Joan can't afford to buy him out. If they sell, her share wouldn't buy a bed-sit. Back in 1980, before what they called the "sale of the century", Joan thought she had her home for life. Now she can't afford to live in it anymore.