I spent the day lying on the sofa feeling unwell and very sorry for myself, then I came across the Jeremy Kyle show and stopped feeling sorry for myself and decided to lay all of my sympathy on someone else. If The Jeremy Kyle show isn’t living proof that the British dental system is shambolic I don’t know what is!

To backtrack, this day of misery on the sofa feeling as if someone up there hated me was totally self inflicted – and for once, not a hang over! I started Yoga.

Last September I had hip surgery. I spent two months on crutches and the next seven months using it as an excuse to be totally lazy so with the idea of going on a summer holiday in the back of my mind I realised it was time to stop the ‘my poor hip’ routine and start getting back in shape - I’m on the slow road to thirty and things don’t stay in place like they used to!

I found an extensive and exciting list of classes at my local sports centre and once I’d crossed off the colourfully named classes that I could only imagine require a hell of a lot of sweating (and frankly, energy) I was left with a diminished list including yoga and water aerobics. What the hell happened to aerobics, step, bums, tums and thighs and all of the simply named, easily distinguishable classes of ye old worlde. Now I’m really showing how long it is since I’ve been to the gym, but really, aero combo, below the belt, body combat, body jam to name but a few seemed to me like unimaginatively named scenes from a low cost porn movie. So I decided on Yoga. I’ve not done it before but at least I’ve heard of it and wasn’t quite ready to get my body (and my scar) on show for water aerobics.

Once I decided on yoga, I was then faced with the decision of what type of yoga. Hatha, sivananda, pilates? I just want to do plain old yoga. I phoned up and asked what type of unpronounceable yoga would suit me best and they ‘invited’ me to join a beginners yoga class the next day. With much trepidation I turned up to the class and soon realised how unfit and inflexible I was. In the class I was one of the youngest and the slimmest, but by far the worst! I didn’t want to look feeble so pushed myself beyond my limits and after an hour of shaking limbs, a few dubious positions and sweating profusely, other than feeling like I was going to die, I felt quite proud of myself for getting off my lazy ass and doing something.

But now I can barely move and picking up the remote to turn Jeremy Kyle off is about as painful as leaving it on. I will go again though; I just won’t exert myself quite so much next time!

My next big feat is resisting doughnuts, they whisper my name and tell me I want them. Krispy Krèmes are the food of the devil and I must resist. I’m not dieting, that’s a word that doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. My love of food is too great to ever diet but when I decided to cut out one bad thing, it was between chocolate, cake, alcohol and doughnuts. Now I’m having second thoughts. My other big change is cutting out late night snacking. I’m not much of a morning person, more of a night owl, so I tend to be up late and eating all sorts of rubbish until I fall asleep. Now I find myself continually walking around the kitchen opening and closing cupboards subconsciously hunting for food.

I haven’t yet succumbed. It has only been three days though!

I started my weekend by heading to BBC London’s studios on Friday night to do the lovely Tessa Dunlop’s show. It was a late one – 11.20 at night! - so I wasn’t too keen but on getting there instantly cheered up listening to her easygoing, very funny chat show. It was a phone-in show so I was slightly nervous about the public reaction to my rather controversial topic but everyone was really supportive. It always surprises people when I say if I had a daughter I wouldn’t let her dance – well I wouldn’t. I’m not hypocritical just well informed!

On Sunday I decided to get away for a night and drove down to the coast for well needed little break. My last holiday was about a year ago and an absolute disaster; I caught salmonella on the second day and spent the next ten days in a Thai hospital. So I thought a relaxing weekend at the coast would do me a world of good. It started out great - weather perfect, a great little B&B with sea views and lovely dinner - perfect relaxation. I woke up in the morning with plans of exploring a bit more of the surrounding coastline before heading back to London and back to work. I jumped in my car and started down the road but it all went wrong. The car was shaking and a guy started shouting at me and throwing some slightly dubious hand signals, with the madman out of sight I jumped out of the car to find my tyre as flat as a pancake.

Now, I’m a girly girl, I don’t know where to start with things like this, I did know however that I didn’t have a spare tyre, neither did I have a phone signal. Hmm, now what? My only option was to walk back to the little town where I had spent the night - a ten minute walk downhill not too bad I figured - then I can find a garage, helping hands, phone signal even. Or not. There was no garage, no one knew where the nearest garage was and my phone signal was still working against me. I was in a quandary and all I could do was kick myself. I knew the tyre was dodgy before I even started the bloody road trip - why didn’t I just change it in London before I left?!? So after five minutes of kicking myself, wallowing in self pity and a quick ice cream I trekked back up the hill armed with my AA card in search of a phone signal.

Four hours later the AA decided to make an appearance with more bad news – no tyres to fit my car within a thirty mile radius. I called every garage I could until I found one and got towed there to sort it out. Seven hours later - 5 pm - and I was more than a little exasperated with the whole situation and everyone saying to me ‘you should have a spare’. In hindsight I know that, but it really didn’t help for people to keep telling me!

I eventually got home - feeling less relaxed that when I left - to be greeted with this week’s Big Issue and a great feature John Bird did of me. And then today my editor e-mailed me that I’d hit number 22 in the book charts – after just under a month of sales!

So after a disastrous weekend this week looks promising. So far…….

Learn what to do (and more importantly, what NOT to do) when you’re in a strip club in my article on strip club etiquette on AskMen.com.

Check out the review today in the Metro! 

Yesterday saw me doing the Robert Elms show for BBC London radio. This was my first live radio interview and I was surprisingly nervous! My day started with me sniffling with hay fever so the obvious solution was to take anti-histamines. Just before jumping in the car I knocked back a few piriton so I didn’t sound like a snivelling fool on the radio. By the time I got there, rushed through and was seated in front of Robert Elms with a micro phone a millimetre from my mouth, I realised a mixture of nerves and anti-histamines had left me with a very dry mouth – not good on radio.

It all ended up fine and the interview went better than expected, a few hesitations and stumbles but I figured I’m a newbie, I’m allowed!

So maybe no career in radio but it was fun. Good practise for lots more radio to come next week. If I learnt anything it’s that I get a very dry mouth with nerves so make sure I have a water supply!

The book is in the shops and I can’t help popping past WHSmiths in the station in the hope of seeing someone buying a copy. It hasn’t happened yet but it’s only a matter of time.

I’ve had a really mixed response about the book, it’s mainly positive with my friends fully supporting me, a fantastic following on facebook and journalists positive reviews. But there have been one or two negative reactions.

Firstly from another dancer! She has never worked with me or even met me but decided to impart her lack of wisdom on many girls that do know me. Firstly she decided I must be a liar as most of the book can’t possibly be true, secondly she thinks that earning four grand in a night is physically impossible unless you do something extra! Hmm, as much as I hate to see jealousy rear it’s ugly head at least I know people are reading the book and even talking about it.

The second ‘bashing’ I received was from a punter at the White Horse on my night out with the girls. Now generally the White Horse attracts a nicer, working class type of guy. But this guy was anything but. My friends, all excited, were looking at the book and showing their friends when a guy decided to put in his two pence worth in.

 “Don’t think you’re anything special” - he said to me while I was just sat there enjoying my wine - “you’re mediocre, that’s why you were a stripper. Strippers are mediocre women, that’s why they do it. Don’t forget that.” I was stunned and for once in my life speechless but it showed me, there was more to writing this book than a personal project. If I can humanise the industry and even change the perspective of a few people, I’ll be happy.

I expect a mixed review and I’m prepared for that. The strip industry is very controversial and I accept that people have their opinion on it. 

My only big surprise was how much I hate the sound of my own voice!