The Day I Ran Over George Michael


Since my husband (I will never call him My Ex – even though he now is) left us I continue to struggle with aligning my personality to what happened.

None of the popular options available (angry.bitter.regretful.devastated.accepting) seem palatable and after a number of years, indifference still seems elusive.

I’ve observed some women “moving on” (another term I struggle with) perhaps more traditionally, by re-inventing themselves with a new tattoo or job or hair colour ; swopping man-bashing stories whilst enjoying tequila shooters with other Divorced Friends and peppering the conversation with recently learned terms such as “crazy-making behaviour,” “borderline” and “narcissist.” As one of my brothers wryly observed it’s funny how years ago people were just assholes. Continue reading

Woolly, Woolly



Over the weekend, I determined to start readying the back yard for winter much earlier than usual. Unlike my super-organized (and retired) neighbours with their obsessive rows of squat, compact bags of leaves I seem always to be caught by surprise and have to deal with cracked plant pots, lone garden trowels and pale, withered hoses in the spring. One of the larger planters was extraordinarily heavy so I shunted it toward the garage ancient Egyptian-style a few paces at a time.

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Not Just Another Mouth in the Lipstick Vogue





Honestly, there’s nothing like a trip to Sephora to raise the spirits after both an appalling week at work and all those sinking moments of time spent watching the current world news. (For which I can find no satisfactory method of dealing with apart from healthy, regular shots of denial). Historical justifications, finger pointing and frantic hopping trips to news sites across the web have all proved hugely unhelpful to me. People who offer compact, intellectual summary statements are exceptionally irritating because, really, nothing is that simple, is it? The best advice I have heard thus far – apart from going on a total news fast – seems to be making a relentless effort to be absolutely the best person you can be, in your own day-to-day life. It’s the only strategy that makes sense – apart from letter writing and lobbying obviously – and really, it’s sort of a mash-up of that grassroots notion of “Think Globally, Act Locally” which I also love.

But I digress. Because perhaps I could do a much better job if I had a really top-notch lipstick. Continue reading