I hate the fact that there are already Merry Christmas signs dangling above the tills in my local shop.

But worst of all, I hate the thought of drawing the short straw at forthcoming dinner parties and ending up sitting next to Dull and Duller.

It's an issue that raises its head more at this time of year than any other because there are just so many more events to go to and often the guests don't know each other.

Believe me, the dinner guest from hell comes in all shapes and sizes.

There's often no way of knowing until it's too late, your wine's poured, you're bored, and there's still three courses to go.

The trouble is, the suffering they inflict can be so severe it brings out the worst in everyone – so instead of just one undesirable, you end up with a whole room full.

Some unsuspecting victims become chain-smokers in a bid to escape from the endless drone; others fish out their phones and start frantically texting their mates, begging for a five-minute break in the form of an "emergency" call ; then there's the tried and tested method of simply hitting the bottle, in the hope that will make their terrible tales more interesting.

Recent dinner party disasters include the woman whose sole topic was her breast pump; the lady explaining in graphic detail how her young son had recently discovered his dangly bits; the watch collector; the soppy couple with more money than sense; the woman insisting it was ok to wear mink because they were bred for their pelts; and the embarrassingly drunk girl repeating everything five times.

I've been a vegetarian for almost 20 years but one diner who I'd not seen for a few months, obviously struggling for something interesting to say, actually resorted to asking me: "So, are you still a vegetarian?"

It was social desperation in the extreme.

Some can be easily pigeonholed as baby bores, wine bores, wedding bores, work bores – specialists in one tedious topic – others manage to achieve an astounding level of mind-numbing monotony in every subject.

And before you tell me only boring people get bored, I promise you I could keep myself entertained forever with a good supply of books.

It's when other people get involved that the problems start.

Still I've learned an important lesson.

Not only must you always turn up with a bottle of wine and bunch of flowers for your host, the most important item to have in your possession is a good escape plan.

"Oh golly, is that the time?

"I must get back to… erm...wash the cats and feed my hair."


Enjoy a bite out on the credit crunch

THERE'S not many pluses to the credit crunch but there are aspects of being a "recessionista" – fashionista on a budget – that I really enjoy.

I've been borrowing my mates' clothes rather than buying them.

Not only does it save me a fortune, I get tried and tested style successes each time.

Even better are the collection of two-for-one vouchers that keep arriving in my inbox for restaurants including Ask, Café Rouge, Pizza Express, and one of the most wondrous eateries in Leeds – Gourmet Burger Kitchen.

That's a very tasty silver lining to our nasty credit crunch cloud.

I like to call it a credit munch.


Perfect present for a shame-faced best friend

I'M extraordinarily organised with Christmas prezzies this year.

I've already bought my brother's and decided on mum and dad's.

After a girls' night out on Friday – when my BF once again committed the unforgivable sin of drunk dialling – I've also pinned down the perfect gift for her.

For anyone unfamiliar with the term, drunk dialling is when inebriation clouds the judgement, causing a phone user to lose all self-respect and ring someone they shouldn't – invariably an ex or a recent conquest.

The result? On top of a stinking hangover, embarrassment so severe the offender wants to tuck their head into their armpit and hibernate until Steps return to the charts.

This affliction is now so widespread, techno geeks the world over are coming up with ingenious methods to thwart those drunken impulses.

There's a mobile phone with a built-in breathalyser that, when blown into by an intoxicated reveller, displays a warning and an animation of a car swerving and crashing. Easy for even the tipsy to understand: car-crash behaviour, avoid at all costs.

It can also be programmed to block selected numbers, from bosses to mums, exes, even curry houses, if the breathalyser records a blood-alcohol concentration over a certain level.

In Oz, you can stop yourself dialling under the influence by planning ahead.

You just key '333' followed by the number you fear you might call, blocking it until the next morning.

Now there's Mail Goggles, which asks you to solve simple maths equations in an allotted time.

If you can't answer, the message won't send, thus saving you from sending a late-night email you will undoubtedly regret once sobriety kicks in.

Ingenious.

So, I will finally be able to stop my pal from making boozed-up calls to losers.

All I need now is a device to stop her picking the wrong men in the first place.