All the things I do instead of writing…
Last week seemed to have a bit of a non-stop schedule of activities based in the city, which made today's 10km run through the Arundel Estate in West Sussex all the more enjoyable. Still, I also went to the rather more rarefied spectacle of an evening at the Royal Opera House. I had got some... Continue Reading →
I went to pick up some documents from another office this lunchtime, and walked all the way through the main Canary Wharf shopping centre. Canary wharf, for anyone not living in London, is the gleaming peninsula of corporate headquarters that was built in the middle of London's rather deprived and run down docks in the... Continue Reading →
The many faces this blog has already taken on are perhaps some testament to my peripatetic nature. I'll pick up a new hobby, do it like a crazy person for about six months, then get all demoralised about the fact that it's not a career, and I therefore prefer to stop doing it rather than... Continue Reading →
In an effort to feel like I'm doing something with the acres of time at my disposal, I entered a whole slew of 10km runs at the beginning of the year, and a half marathon in September. Running is in some ways quite an irritating activity, mainly because of the way other people view it.... Continue Reading →
I have been terribly remiss in writing anything recently - not even my own paper diary (which contains even more endless chatter than this blog). There are several reasons for this, but the main one is that I went on a rock climbing holiday to Spain, in Gandia near Valencia. I have been climbing indoors... Continue Reading →
I was reading a comment article in The Times this morning entitled "If you're not Kate Moss, smoking isn't cool". I don't think she looks cool smoking at all, or certainly not in the Louis Vuitton catwalk image. It was following the well-trodden path of generating controversy for greater press coverage, and the whole effect... Continue Reading →
I have for so long imagined little scenes in my life as they might have turned out, but as they never do for anyone, because everyone is reticent and risk averse - unless of course they're completely wasted and staggering around Covent Garden in London so drunk that they walk into a glass door at full pelt... Continue Reading →
I'm quite disconcertingly comfortable with my own company. When I'm not at work (which is most of the time), I have all the head space I need - I can read the papers, construct bizarre diet plans I won't stick to, shout at the morons on breakfast TV, indulge in antisocial personal habits like picking... Continue Reading →
I've been reading through yet another random set of "tips" about leaving comments, and I'm increasingly unsure why anyone would take it that seriously - one person commented: "Ok, so we’re all scared to comment I will admit I have been guilty to leaving random comments and now can really work on leaving pertinent information... Continue Reading →
Maybe I'm taking a silly movie too seriously, but about halfway through Black Swan I thought I must've somehow not only travelled back in time to 1962, but into some sort of parallel universe in which all a fragile woman really needs is a good rogering by some aggressive svengali twice her age. Add the... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 