All the things I do instead of writing…
On the tube this morning, a lady got on at Bond Street wearing that ever more familiar red-soled shoe. I thought the shoe looked rather cheap, another of those black patent leather stilettos with a concealed platform and slightly too thin a heel for such a chunky front. Of course, being so evidently made by... Continue Reading →
Every city probably has this divide on public transport. If you board at 8am, it's full of people rustling their papers, cumbersomely trying to sip a Starbucks at the same time, and looking amusingly bright eyed as they contemplate another day of spreadsheets. Get on at 6.45, and the carriage is filled with men in... Continue Reading →
I am watching a documentary about a very old lady in a red jumper. “What is it like when you believe you will die in the next second?”, the interviewer asks. She is asked this a lot, she replies; and the answer is that you do not perceive any emotion – just blackness descending on... Continue Reading →
I've still not got around to removing this blog from my Twitter feed, and consequently have stopped updating it; it seems incredibly vain to even vaguely assume that anyone I know would want to read my bored ramblings, so I started writing them somewhere completely anonymous instead. But I suppose now I'm just more bored... Continue Reading →
I seem to have spent most of the last year taking every possible opportunity to be away from London. It seemed like the only way to enjoy living here, in small doses, with regular breaks from the long, long tube journeys, the crowds and the terrible air quality. In fact it just made me mildly... Continue Reading →
I've spent quite a lot of time recently just slouching about the house, having broken my wrist. In some ways it's quite nice, but there is nothing like temporary disability to make you appreciate what most of us take for granted every day. The most banal flicks of the hand are either impossible or very... Continue Reading →
My bank holiday treat was a two-day cycling trip to try out my new bike. It is a Specialized Tricross, and although largely a road bike, it is by all accounts supposed to be strong enough to handle off-roading. Perhaps what the manufacturers and reviewers define as off-roading is just a bone-dry, unsealed track on... Continue Reading →
These are short extracts from my diaries as a 13-year-old for 1991. It was the year that we left Australia to live in Germany permanently. Reading them paints a strange picture of a very pressurised and unsettled life, and some unintended hilarious observations. March 4th 1991 Today was our school free day. At 12.00 we... Continue Reading →
I just browsed about a bit, looking for the US reaction to Cameron's first visit to the White House. Apart from the amusing way they always refer to him as "Prime Minister Cameron", the focus of their main media outlets seemed as click-chasingly focussed on domestic news stories, as they are almost all over the... Continue Reading →
I went to see Twilight on my own last night - as usual I just wandered past the cinema on my way home, to see if anything was starting soon. I've been so irritated by the whole Twilight thing for a while. People always seem to jump on vampire stories in recessions - maybe it's... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 