For those of you who’ve followed us since the beginning you’ll remember that our reasons for leaving the UK were numerous. We wrote these reasons on post-its and stuck them on the wall of our bedroom in south east London before we decided to up stix and get the hell out of dodge. The reasons …
So here it is. My official website people, courtesy of my lovely husband. It’s still in beta but I’m just too excited to wait (wait? what’s that?) and had to share it with you all. Please spend time perusing the fantasy cast list. I spent many hundreds of hours living this fantasy. It’s only fair …
As you know John, Alula and I left the UK in January 2010. We were looking for a new home – somewhere hot, less stressful, somewhere with a creative, entrepreneurial vibe, somewhere with good schools and good people. And we found Bali and it’s our version of perfect living (back then I hadn’t even anticipated …
This week I said yes to a lot of things. On Thursday I took part in a Goddess ceremony. It told me I needed to do a past life regression. (I haven’t said yes to that yet). On Saturday I wore a black tutu and went ecastatic dancing in a rice paddy. There were a …
I am standing in the middle of a traffic island in rush hour traffic at the junction of St Martin’s lane and Long Acre. And I’m having an in depth quite serious conversation whilst people in suits rush past as though the end of the world is nigh. The conversation goes something like this: But …
I caught a taxi over London Bridge on Thursday and went right past my old office. It was like a regression – like remembering a past life (in this case not the kind where you discover you were Cleopatra with grape-feeding slaves but the kind where you find out you were the grape-feeding slave). And …
I’m not sure if you’ve seen Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs (possibly the best children’s film to be made in decades) but there’s a great scene in it when this fat bloke takes on some man-size roasted chickens and he ends up looking like this… Well that’s what I wanted to do with my …
Jack Bauer style The alarm bells should have started to ring when he straddled me. It wasn’t sexual, don’t get me wrong. It was more like he was getting ready to carve a particularly large parma ham. And it hurt. This man knew pain. He was on first name terms with it. There was a …
I am lying in my sickbed dying of consumption. Or that’s what it feels like. I saw Bright Star yesterday and I think John Keats had nothing on this. Ok, there’s not blood. Yet. But I lean up to hack up sputum and then collapse backwards onto the bed one arm flung out. I just …
I just had a bikini wax. It involved a butter knife, wax so hot I assume they climbed the nearest volcano and dipped their wax tub in a flowing lava bed to warm it up and two women. All behind a shower curtain. You want to hear about the rest of my day? I staggered …
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