Category Archives: Single Life

***Crush watch***crush watch***

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OK people, it’s about time this PANK pulled herself the Hell together, and dragged her crush-addled head right out of her arse……. All-consuming crush, on unrealistic target has distracted me long enough to interfere with my otherwise tidy and uncomplicated life (read; brain).  Having today realised I may have f*cked up some travel plans, I’m […]

Paris part II – July 2014

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I’ve said it before, but I will say it again.  I’m a lucky woman. For a start, I’m writing this from the beach. Which is 15 minutes from my place. Enjoying the hazy sun and a balmy breeze. (It’s the little things.) But most importantly for me, I have infinite freedom.  I’ve learnt that the […]

I’ve got deja vu

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It only seems like a few months since I was sitting in the airport waiting for a flight to Paris.  Oh wait, it is only a few months since I was sitting in the airport waiting for a flight to Paris. Different company, different circumstances. I’m excited to see my long-lost friends, it’s been too […]

If I was the Brazilian national football team’s aunt, I’d….

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line them all up, like they do before a match and walk along, give them the pity face and silently hug them all tightly to my breast. And I’d really mean it. There might even be hair stroking and face cupping. Then I would hand them all a gift-wrapped DVD of a Germany training video […]

Trips to Paris are like buses….

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you wait twenty years, then two come along at once.  Kind of. So having popped over the border to Paris in February, (for the first time since my marriage proposal in 1994), to visit Hot Frenchie, I find myself ‘popping over the border’ again to have some fun and catch up with my fabulous friends […]

Thought for the day

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Dear everyone One of the most infuriating things in the whole wide world, is other (cosily coupled-up) people’s interpretation of a ‘good time, enjoying good company’. The only option OBVIOUSLY being, a date.  As opposed to say, having a great laugh with a good friend,  enjoying some great live music, courtesy of another nice friend.  […]

Inherited hang-ups

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I remember very clearly, a time when my dad told me off for having airs and graces.  I was round about thirteen years old, I was in the kitchen with him and mum chatting and I asked for a Nice biscuit, (as in the city of Nice in southern France).  My dad thought I had asked for a […]