Loads of weirdos send me things, like strange bits of leather. And then there was the guy who thought I was having his baby. Apparently, he's been writing to Princess Anne too, so I clearly belong to a good, erm, sub-section of society.

I'm not extravagant, so I won't need to rein it in too much. Me and my friend make each other cards. I love being creative and making things. But a better credit crunch idea is to not even bother sending cards.

I get recognised a lot. If there are a load of school kids together, they'll shout at me, but I'm quite good at giving grief back. I give as good as I get.

I've been quite lucky - everything I've done has been quite varied.

I met Princess Anne once at a charity do and she said Blue Peter made her realise TV was all lies - she'd gone to Africa on safari with Valerie Singleton and they didn't see a thing, but when she watched it on TV they'd edited in some lion cubs. I was like, 'Oh dear.' I still don't know if she was joking or not.

Maybe I could do some indie film and get my kit off. I'd never say never.