All the things I do instead of writing…
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 other day, I went to see the best play I've seen in many years at The Royal Court, called Clybourne Park. The reviewers kept saying it was a very funny satire about race and property, and I certainly couldn't help laughing at the accurate portrayal of the ugly sides of human nature, although I... Continue Reading →
I am watching The Red Shoes. I am quite drunk, because today I got my bonus numbers, my sister is starting a new job on Monday, and Tesco's was selling Lanson Rose at half price. Originally I was planning to open the second bottle in about half an hour, but then my sister went off... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 