Oh, the messenger bag was a mistake. Even with a be-pocketed jacket to stuff my great useless hands into, a mistake. I could scarcely have contrived a better way to humiliate myself, walking through thick summer crowds in bright sunlight with that thing bouncing off my hip, zip-tabs jangling at top volume with every lurch*, and one arm dangling ( Read more... )

I thought I'd ironed out all my suicidal impulses years ago, so it was a bit surprising when, while going over my grocery-list and trying to work out the quickest way of getting in and out through the Galleries on a weekend, some sudden mad impulse said: 'go clothes-shopping, Brian! Go clothes-shopping alone, on a Saturday!' and I went. (Do I ( Read more... )

I went to Newcastle yesterday for my re-appointment at 'Transform'. I didn't get lost; I wasn't late; I wasn't unreasonably early; I didn't knowingly get off at the wrong place to avoid contradicting the taxi driver. I ended up missing the appointment anyway, of course, after two and a half hours of wondering whether I'd actually been forgotten ( Read more... )

My hair is now black, which wasn't on the menu. I look like a ghost. (Dark eyelashes in stark relief, yes, but also, suddenly, dark circles, too.) I'll really have to remember not to wear my black hoodie. People will get ideas ( Read more... )