Cuckoo in a Cockatoo’s Nest

Theatres are funny places. They seem to absorb a little bit of everyone that spends time in them. No matter how many times I’m in a theatre, or how welcome they make me feel, I always feel a little like I don’t belong. Like there is a long list of people far more deserving who…

Wiping the Slate Clean

Imagine if you woke up one morning with the ability to wipe the slate clean. To start again. Would you do it? Are there things you would alter, or eradicate completely? Or would you only tidy up a few things rather than blot the lot? I suspect there are very few people who wouldn’t change…

Goodbye, Victoria Wood

There was something bad about the day from the moment of waking. One of those days that seems to jangle in the air like impatient keys, unsettling me, keeping me on my toes and on the look-out. Whenever I feel like a day is ready-marked for bad things I try to tell myself off for…

Massive Face

I almost puked when I saw it. My massive face. It’s probably not healthy to have quite such a visceral reaction to the sight of your own visage, but there we go. It was like the moon. Somebody, right here at the paper, the tykes, had put a really big picture of my face alongside…

Doing Stuff is Good

I had a terribly cultured weekend. This was not due to me being terribly cultured in general – that is a label saved for people better than I – but simply because I got off my typing-til-I-twitch toosh and said yes to stuff. I am not a great goer to things. I either find myself…