I've been prompted

7 THINGS I CAN DO (how about you?)
Sing. Give me the score of a twiddly Baroque opera aria and I'll quite happily lock myself in a room until I've got it. Signature song: The Catalogue Aria from Don Giovanni.
Cook. Chocolate mousse from scratch? It's really not as difficult as you think. Signature dish: coffee-chocolate semifreddo. I won't do dinner parties again, but I'll cook just for you with pleasure.
Entertain. It's a compulsion, what can I say?
Hear. You won't believe how annoying it is to me when people are slightly off their notes.
Make daunting, seemingly impossible projects happen. It's spooky, really.
Self-dramatise. Oh, don't give me an opening.
Appreciate beauty. Yes,everything must be functional - just make it beautiful too.

7 THINGS I CAN’T DO
Lirpe. That's the word for clicking your fingers, thanks to her. I just never worked out how.
Put up with bullshit. Really, are you so much more important than everyone else?
Deny myself anything. I can diet perfectly - by accident. The minute you tell me I can't have something, that something is all I want. Budget.
This may be linked to the denial point above, and explains why other people have furniture and I have the world's most incredible CD collection. Polyphony R us!
Be organised. That's why I'm always at work at 10pm. I drive myself mad.
Stay focused. Erm. Ditto.
Like Barbra Streisand. I've tried, really I have, and I'm letting the side down, but: no.

7 THINGS THAT ATTRACT ME SEXUALLY
Eyelashes.
Big, strong hands.
Tallness.
Beefyness.
Tall, beefy men with big hands wearing crisp white shirts.
Suggestion. (The actual doing often spoils the fun.)
Bergamot.

7 THINGS THAT I SAY MOST OFTEN
'What is it about...?!' - always in irritation.
'The thing is...'
'Right'. If said with deadpan voice, it means I'm completely not listening to you.
'Dude, pick a lane' - my pet hate about Jozi drivers.
'Lank tit graze, China!' - because a certain someone keeps on asking for the bloody story.
'So...'
'DDR!' Stop laughing, you lot.

6 THINGS THAT SCARE ME
Growing old.
Nobody wanting me.
Being a failure.
Spiders - and it gets worse every year.
Heights (but they are easily avoided).
Not knowing what I'm supposed to do on this planet.

7 THINGS I PLAN TO DO BEFORE I DIE*

Hear Vivaldi played in Venice.Ergo, go to Venice. And Rome, again.

Fall in love. Yes, I'm nearly 30 and no, it's never happened. Obsession has happened, and I don't want that. I want to know what the big deal is. And dammit, it would be so much easier if I didn't always have to do everything myself.

Sing baroque music on stage overseas. And receive applause because I've worked at it so hard for so long. And with that, re-record my arias. Better get cracking.

Allow myself to make mistakes, because I do - but I can't ever get over them, and it's exhausting.

Own a glam flat in London, another in Rome and a third in Cape Town. My house will be in Joburg. Not copying the Scrivener - we merely think alike.

Stop waiting for my life to start. It's been going for three decades and I haven't noticed.

* Impressive things I'd always wanted to do before shuffling off, and now have: I've heard my ultimate, absolutely favouritest piece of music performed live, in an appropriate church, in historically informed manner. That would be the young Handel's Dixit Dominus. Wow. Less dear to me but certainly always impressive, and rarely performed, Thomas Tallis's Spem in alium - three times in total. Bizarre, since it requires such massive resources to perform it and I simply got lucky with the Handel, despite its comparitive ease of production.