For the record

Due to public demand [ahem]*, herewith a brief discourse on the word 'diva'. (I feel I should really be leaving this to the expert, but there it is, I can't disappoint my public.)

'Diva' is not a synonym for 'female singer'. You actually have to have a talent for singing. And be older than 16. And have a whole Concorde-load of charisma, I might add. Thusly, even after 40 years, the likelihood of Natasha Bedingfield ever being deserving of the moniker is a little slender.

Not that I have anything against Natasha, you understand. Poor dear. Just another blonde popster, not a hope in hell of standing out from the crowd. Not like Rachel Stevens then. (Oooh... did I really just say that? Dammit, so much for secret guilty pleasures.)

Oh well. It's not like I have taste after all. Still love Dido although every Serious Music Critic tells me not to. [sigh] Just as well I have no aspirations to be a music critic then. Fillums, I know. Fillums, I have great taste in. After all Mars Attacks! is not just my personal choice for best alien comedy ever, it was universally lauded.

Wasn't it?

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*Look at me, Scroobious Superblogger! I have a public! They demand! Wheeee! ... well, just the one really, and an oldest bestest** friend can't really be considered my 'public', but indulge me, okay?
**Apart from all you other oldest, bestest friends. Obviously.