Skip to main content

I have a long, long list of topics I could write about today.

I could write about the perfect Italian mini-break I had with my beloved sister not so long ago.

I could write about nearly tripping over deer in the beyond beautiful Richmond Park, around which I went for another long, long walk.

I could write about my glee at security tickets to see David Tennant in a play early next year and how my 26-year-old-self would feel vindicated after missing out on seeing him play Hamlet when I last lived in this fair city.

I could also write about how I finally got myself a UK bank account which makes me feel that I finally 'live' in London.

But I'm not going to write about any of those things, not today.

The reason? Well, today is a day I'd rather forget.

It's the day I became utterly dismayed with the United States of America and crossed it from my list of 'places to visit anytime soon'.

America, a nation that decided they prefer a president that grabs p*ssies, rather than have a president that actually HAS a p*ssy.

And I.Can't.Even.


Popular posts from this blog

On brain freeze

Due to the inevitability of British Winter, my brain stopped working.  There will be a proper posting next week... probably.

On the privilege of seeing Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (no spoilers, promise!)

Beloved characters from books, films and television shows are often sacred ground for us fans. We have journeyed with them, taken them into our hearts and think about them when our real lives are being a little less than spectacular. And so, when these characters are revisited for what sometimes feels like a money grab, and what sometimes is (I’m sure) a form of closure for the creatives, we wait with the duelling emotions of hope and fear, wondering if those in charge are about to wreck everything. Most often than not, they do wreck things, a lot (Mitch Hurwitz and your Arrested Development season 4 shambles, I’m looking at you!). While I always want more Bridget Jones, Mad About the Boy didn’t quite do it for me and I’m terrified about seeing Bridget Jones’s Baby for fear that watching it will forever ruin the first film and first two books for me. Similarly, I’m nervous about the upcoming Gilmore Girls episodes even though I’d give my right arm to go back to Stars Hollow. And maybe

On accidentally becoming a cat person

Building a new life in a new city can throw challenges at you both big and small. Most challenges are to be expected; learning a new public transport system, setting up a bank account, finding the local pub, getting a job, making friends. Some are not; Brexit, realising your old winter clothes are a laughing stock when compared to ACTUAL winter clothes, Brexit, knowing your phone calls home will always mean one side of the conversation is just waking up while the other is on its way to being drunk and never the two wavelengths shall meet, Brexit. What I hadn’t planned on were challenges that would fundamentally change who I was. And in that respect, there is one challenge needs addressing, and has needed addressing for some time. For the eagle-eyed amongst you, you will have noticed a certain someone who has crept into my Twitter feed and onto my ‘ currently reading ’ page. And for those of you who have spotted this certain someone, and also know me well, will surely be wonder