You know what I miss?

Mix tapes.

I think I am not alone in this but mix tapes were great and so was This Is My Jam and I miss that too, because I really liked listening to songs that people I like, like, and now nobody does that anymore. I even miss the way how on Myspace you could set a song to go on your page.

And you know you’ve hit hard, sad, times when you are reminiscing over the days of Myspace.

When we were younger, living in different places (before I was a child bride, even) we used to make each other MiniDiscs and send them in the post. I sat for hours, inputting the song names with the remote control, so they would show up when he played it. I’d settle for a personalised playlist now, I suppose.

4 books I want to write or thought about writing this week:

  • The one I am writing, which, slowly, slowly I am still trying to do. (It’s shit, I hate it, it’s awful, I’m wasting my time.)
  • “What the fuck am I going to do with my life?” A memoir where I try out all the careers I want to do and then at the end reach a conclusion.
  • A collection of short stories where it gets increasingly dark. As in, like, literal darkness, not ‘oh that’s so dark.’ Not sure WTF either and have no ideas for stories, just thought that having a theme might help.
  • A parenting book. I have nothing to say about parenting particularly, just thought that since I like having children and writing, maybe I would come up with some ideas?

Chris Gethard fantasy

I keep fantasising about talking to Chris Gethard on Beautiful Anonymous. So, basically, “I want to talk to someone about myself for an hour.” I mean, not enough to actually try to phone the podcast or find out HOW to phone the podcast, but a bit.

Which is kind of sad and probably means I need to find some friends or something.

BRB just going to make some friends.


Before work

P is usually acceptable at sleeping now. But last night, this morning, she wanted her covers off, no, covers on, no, my bed, no, her bed, Tiddler on, goodnight again. We are all a little bit ill and unrested.

She woke up properly at 7,

‘I’ve finished my sleep now.’ She said.

And then, spotting the cat asleep on her bed.

‘Oh! Hello Murray. Can I stroke him really gently?’



Today I asked someone (my age? A bit older?) how old her daughter is.

‘8,’ she said.

‘No, not 8, I mean 8 months. 8 and a half months. That would have been a misspent youth if she was 8! Haaahaha.’

‘HA. Yes, ha, imagine.’


Home (to my just about 8 year old)

In the other tab of this web browser, it says ‘uneatest school work ever’ because that’s what he Googled this evening. He did some not very neat work today at school and had to stay in for a few minutes at break time to finish it.

‘That’s so mean!’ I thought, ‘I’m going to bloody take him out of that bloody neat freak school and teach him myself, in a camper van, on the continent!’

I barely had a chance to look up Swift Kon-Tikis on Auto Trader when we talked about it and actually, all is well, I think. He didn’t know what he was doing (NOW! This is when you must ask for help!) and then tried to rectify it, then messed it up (highlighter pen everywhere) and started again.

‘If I didn’t have to stay in, I would have chosen to stay in, to get it right.’ He said.

Then we talked about primary and secondary consumers in food chains and said good night. He’s OK.



The self checkout used to say “select from popular items or look up item alphabetically” and they have changed it to say “select from popular items or have a browse”. You don’t BROWSE WHEN YOU ARE ON A FUCKING SELF CHECKOUT? You’ve already browsed, in the shop. OH, yes, self checkout machine with 200 people queueing behind me, let me just have a browse.