Hello there. Today, we’re going to talk about periods. Specifically, we’re going to talk about the ill-defined beast that is PMS. I’m already having to stop myself apologising for picking such a scandalous topic, which sort of highlights why it’s a good thing to be discussing.
Unlike the infamous ritual by which 11-year-old girls are removed from mixed classrooms to learn their fate, I’m asking the boys to stay and listen. If you don’t think it’s your business, that’s all the more reason to stay. Welcome.
I’ve been meaning to write this one for a while. Read on and you’ll probably figure out why it’s taken me until now to get around to it…
Here are some facts:
- In January, I started an awesome new job at Coney
- In the months of January to March 2018, I lost a total of six Oyster cards
- I suffer from what’s probably best described as moderate clinical anxiety
I have a little theory that links those facts together. But first, let me expand on each one.
Hello there. Happy New(ish) Year! This is just a quick ‘What I Did On My Holidays’ to get me back into the whole writing thing, but I’m going to find time in my busy busy schedule for some cartoons just as soon as possible. Continue to watch this space.
Here is some information about me.
- I live in a flat in London, to which I only sometimes lose the keys
- I have a full time job (a new one, which is great by the way)
- I pay taxes
- I have conversations about spreadsheets on an alarmingly regular basis
- I manage OK on the whole paying-bills, keeping-appointments, cleaning-and-tidying front
- I get my five a day and take vitamin supplements
- In recent times, I’ve actually been known to get excited about vegetables
It’s been a while, etc, etc. But I’m back, and I’ve managed to age at least thirty years since I last posted. Read on to find out more about my middle-aged life…
You may be familiar with the ‘Expectation vs reality’ memes that were everywhere a few years ago. They tend to be amusingly cynical or self-deprecating, and go something like this:
Thanks to Kate, who follows some excellent mailing lists, I managed to get a cheap ticket to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead at the Old Vic theatre on Thursday night, the same day it was broadcast as a National Theatre Live showing. The play is basically an Absurd take on Hamlet, and it’s very entertaining. You can still catch a repeat of the NT screening, so read on for why you should see it (or, if you’re so inclined, why you shouldn’t).
Well, it’s been a strange and eventful day. I generally avoid doing reviews on this blog because I’ve always been irrationally afraid that the person whose art I’m insulting will read what I have to say. It’s never been a big worry, because my online profile is pretty low, but now it’s happened.
I woke up this morning to find that my post about The Archers from the very first 12 days of Christmas had been shared on social media by the official Archers page. I now find myself in the confusing position of being both slightly star-struck to be tweeted by Lynda Snell, and horrified that I know who Lynda Snell is. And apparently I’ve displeased the fandom.
I’m sure my excuses for the yawning gaps between posts are beginning to wear a little thin, so I won’t bother to make any this time. Just rest assured that I have excellent reasons for disappearing into the ether, and as usual I promise I’ll try to do better from now on. As an apology for my silence, here’s a quick roundup of a weird and wonderful place Dom and I stumbled across yesterday: The Bookbarn. Continue reading