So, Myra Hindley is dead. Weird. For so many years she's been this, like, lurking evil presence in prison, and now she's gone. What will the tabloids rage about now?

The thing that's always struck me about the Moors Murders was that Myra Hindley was always made out to be that little bit more evil than Ian Brady. For a few reasons - e.g. Brady admitted his guilt and accepted his punishment, while Hindley repeatedly appealed for release. But I think the main reason was because Hindley was a woman, and women who kill - especially women who kill children, are viewed as that little bit more evil, because after all we're all supposed to be loving and nurturing and caring, aren't we?

You can probably predict my take on all that. IMHO I would hazard a guess that women are inclined to kill or be violent just as often as men, but either don't carry out the act as often, or aren't caught as regularly. And let's face it - women are more likely to be killing kids than adults, because of physical constraints, or perhaps just because they're around children more. Sally Clark, Andrea Yates et al.

Anyway, it feels like the end of an era, kind of. Myra Hindley is gone. No more high-profile appeals and celebrities (including Barbara Windsor) campaigning to have her released. That's another thing: I reckon a lot of the reasons her supporters wanted her to be released centred around the fact that she was a woman. I don't see any high-exposure campaigns to get John Straffen (Britain's longest-serving prisoner, convicted of two child murders - less than Hindley - in the 1950s) out of prison.

Right, I'm no legal expert, just a lay follower of serial killer cases, so I'll leave it at that. No doubt I'll get corrected by a legal type or two ;-)

In other news, I now have a purple-haired boyfriend. C has been wanting to dye his hair purple for a while, so on Friday night he met me at Clapham Junction and we went and bought some hair colour. I was going to do mine my usual browny-auburn but C persuaded me to get an "intense red" colour. C got an "intense purple" from the same range. On Saturday morning we staggered out of bed at 11am and did our hair.

C's looks great - he had medium brown hair before, and now his hair looks dark in low light, but get him in the sun and you can really see the indigo-purpley highlights. Mine turned out very dark, since my hair was dark brown already, but in the light it's got a burgundy sheen, which is pretty.

After we got dressed we went round to the Café de la Place and had a nice, leisurely lunch. After that, we wandered up to Clapham Junction, had a mooch around Northcote Road Market, and then came back home via Battersea High Street market and bought some fruit & veg.

In the evening we went to a venue next to Spitalfields market to see the BMX Bandits. We were on the guestlist, as C is mates with their guitarist. After the gig, we got to go backstage and hob-nob with the band, which was fun. Amusingly, C's mate G couldn't understand a word I was saying due to my accent. I had no trouble getting my head around his broad Glaswegian accent, but he barely comprehended what I was saying. I know that since I moved to London my accent has been changing (it used to be a pretty standard, well-enunciated, Surrey chirp), and I've been feeling recently that the way I speak has become a lot looser. I'm all drawn-out Surrey vowels and lazy consonants now - when I even bother to pronounce the consonants. One day it'll start causing me trouble, I know ;-)

We left the venue around 1am, after seeing the band off (they were driving back to Glasgow that night!!) and made our way home via the night bus. On Sunday we were again spectacularly lazy, not dragging our arses out of bed until 5.45pm. Shocking.

And now it's Monday. Crap. Work would seem less of a drag if I was working towards something, or had something to look forward to (like a holiday). But sadly not.

OK, that's me. Back to the grindstone.