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Ban the office party – My first act as leader

I’ll happily go for a drink after work. But I choose who I drink with. The organisation of any works social event where absence is deemed an act of party pooping should be punishable by a large fine and community service. Add an enforced theme to the office party, and I’ll up the punishment to life imprisonment or a spell ‘on the wall’.

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Tales of the cities

I suppose I knew three US cities in ten days would be tiring, and just for good measure, there was the tiny matter of squeezing in the Fanning gay wedding. I’m back home feeling like a poolside inflatable with a slow but steady leak. This whole blog piece will sound boasty, but so little ever […]

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Starry starry night

My husband-to-be assured me we could get hitched with minimal fuss. In a registry office. With no guests. Neither of us will write special vows. I voiced  doubt.

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Happy cancer-versary to me

Exactly one year ago, a well-spoken doctor snapped rubber gloves, handed me a tissue and explained how she’d been without power since early morning. It’s a nightmare making porridge when you’ve only a camping stove and a billycan, apparently. She also said I had cancer. Determined to give this bombshell time to process, I focussed […]

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The hardest thing about writing

I write. It’s my paying day job, the way I fill the downtime hours and I’ve upped the pressure by telling myself I have it in me to be funny. On a stage. In front of strangers. Writing isn’t tough. Making it any good is more like work, but again, not beyond reach. What has […]

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An unprecedented level of calls

‘You’re getting very dark again. You need to see a doctor.’ That’s how the other half censored me as I launched into yet another tirade about how Theresa May had basically prostituted herself to the DUP to avoid having to move house just when she’d got on top of her geraniums. And so I tried […]

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Pale, stale and male … and invisible

I give more than a single shit about climate change, and hang my head in shame as other middle-aged white men dictate Britain’s place in Europe and encourage Americans to worship the buck over the book. And yet, I feel invisible.

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Back in the old town

Time heals, and just recently, I felt able to return to Amsterdam for my 50th birthday. Three years, they say, is how long you should always leave between visits to places that mean so much.

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Ten bad things about me

The ten things that I do wrong. Ten things guaranteed to make you move seats on a bus and cut down on visits.

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No news is good news – Information overload

Yesterday was Blue Monday. Officially the most miserable day of the year. I was supposed to feel weary and weighed down with worry. How do I know this? Because that’s what I read online. In the news.

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