Category: general
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It’s been over a year…
Since I last wrote, with promises of restarting my challenge to write a blog post every week. Clearly I failed. But it’s been a bit of a year. I’ve quit two jobs, met someone and moved from the big smoke of London to smaller Southsea. Along the way I probably still haven’t found out anymore…
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E is for English…
By rights this should probably be about excuses. And I must make my own excuses for not managing to stick to my challenge of one blog a week…but it’s been a busy few weeks. What with having to come back early from Cape Town (with six deathly dull hours in Dubai – there’s only so…
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D is for diets…
The day I almost passed out in the office was when I realised that I was and never could be Beyoncé. Her of the tiny waist and glorious (imported locks). She had apparently spent weeks living on a diet of lemon juice, cayenne pepper and maple syrup. Losing stones in the process, which resulted in…
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Wallowing in Wallonia
In a bid to make sure that my 28th year on this earth is not totally wasted I’ve set myself a few challenges. The first of these being to learn the 32 counties of Ireland, and once I’ve achieved this monumental feat of memorisation, I plan to tackle the countries of Africa. I like to…
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Passive tolerance – at the very least
Stuart Heritage has a lot to answer for. But his main crime is leading me towards the Guardian website. I’m not so far gone that I would stop buying the Daily Telegraph every day. [Heaven forbid I miss out on their crossword.] I am, however, increasingly reading and agreeing with some of their editorials. It…
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Down the hipster rabbit hole
I wish I’d followed Alice’s lead. Not down the rabbit hole, but trailed the lone hipster of Bruges through the cobbled streets. If we’d followed him with his too tight, turned up jeans and frighteningly small feet shod in the trendiest of footwear – I think we’d have found out why three million people…
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Tin pot
Blind dates are atrocious. Don’t worry, I’m not straying into dating advice or going to moan about the decided lack of suitable menfolk in Northern Ireland. But, in my limited experience of the blind dating scene I would say that discussing the merits of Hitler and Cromwell isn’t exactly stellar first date fodder. Obviously my…
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Annie get your strimmer
Perched precariously atop a rickety ladder, wondering how I had been guilted into strimming a tree for Marian, I wasn’t best pleased to have my foray into gardening interrupted by a passerby. At least the shocked drivers, agog at the sight of a girl with a strimmer in hand attempting to dance and attack a…
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Baby, bellies and bums
Has to be said in all of the furore over the Royal baby that one thing has been overlooked. Not the weight, name, significance, nor indeed the sex of this baby…but actually the fact that Kate’s removal from public life in the weeks prior to birthing said prince has given her a welcome reprieve. Not…
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Fundamenta eius super montibus sanctis
To my knowledge no one has ever described me as a princess. In fact, as my family continually remind me the doctor told Marian I was to be a boy and upon my birth she demanded I be returned. Not exactly an auspicious start, but one that saw me playing with the boys or stones…
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