‘Isla’s still two…’ If we were having coffee, you’d say ‘WRONG! She’s three.’ I’d say, screw you. But you’re right. She is three. And I’m still tired from all the festivities. I’ve been really social these past couple weeks. I went out of the house and everything. And now I’m tired. Too tired to take Isla to a show that included audience participation. She went with her grandparents instead. And I had plans. Those plans included writing and drinking…
I’ve wanted to start a monthly round-up thing of stuff I loved/internet finds/blogs to follow, etc. Name ideas for this feature have included: Lorna’s Love List (I think that sounds a bit rude, though. And not sarcastic rude.) Crap I Would Actually Buy (Maybe, if I remember to click the buttons. And companies ship to the UK. And while I’m at it Book of The Month, why aren’t you worldwide?) People I Want To Drink With – See also: Where’s…
‘Happy Birthday, baby!’ ‘Go to sleep, Mummy.’ ‘Aren’t you excited?’ ‘Sleeep, Mummy.’ Isla crawled into bed between us, then well, went back to sleep. ‘What time is it?’ ‘Five o’clock.’ ‘Well, shit. G’night,’ I said. Two hours later. Stickers and balloons in bed. ‘What, no penguins?’ Isla asked. ‘C’mon, guys!’ Her favourite thing of the early morning was a helium balloon that we bought in Inverness (more on that shopping trip later. Because it was indeed a trip.) Back to…
‘I don’t want to go.’ ‘Yes, you do.’ ‘What are you going to do for me in exchange for going out and speaking to people?’ ‘I’ll fix your phone screen.’ ‘Good deal. I prefer messaging to speaking. Actually, I hate people.’ ‘No, you don’t.’ ‘I don’t. But how bout reading? Can I stay home and read?’ ‘No.’ ‘Harsh, dude.’ But I left Neil in the kitchen with my phone, working on his end of the bargain. I got in the…
I’ve been writing for longer than you think. I’ve been writing for longer than I think sometimes. I used to write fiction, had five novels on the go. Used to write short stories longhand. On my bedroom floor. When I was 25. I used to draft things, even when people said to leave that shit in. I used to type my writing at 3 in the morning, while blasting music I found on Napster. That’s how far back we go.…
