The truth about… my girl crush

Caitlin Moran

Just lately I’ve become a little bit enamoured of a certain columnist from The Times. Listen, I don’t buy newspapers – I rarely even watch The News for fear of glimpsing a headline so shocking that it might just prompt me to board up my doors and windows and stick my fingers in my ears until after the apocalypse.

I admit I slipped and my eye caught this “The teenage Good Samaritan beaten so badly his parents could not recognise him”, thank God the Telegraph kindly balanced it out with “Teen accidentally sends a Jamie Oliver Chilli Beef recipe as job application” – just about put the smile back on my face!

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Having a vocation

old typewriter

I recently read this post by Sara over at Mum turned Mom. She discusses her difficulties with pronouncing to the world that she is a ‘writer’. I understand. I haven’t thought much about how I label myself in recent years, preferring to just live out each day and fulfil each role necessary (you know the score: care-giver, cook, cleaner, employee, nurse, driver, decision maker, party planner, and on, and on…) but nowadays I manage to squeeze in ‘blogger’ and ‘reader’ and ‘commentator’ too.

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The Theme Game: Paper

Cootie Catcher

This week’s theme of paper has not fit in easily with the drafting of a cohesive story. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of people who do clever paper crafts with their children but I’m not one of them! When I think of paper, these are the things that occur to me:

  • I once trained to be a periodical journalist. Yes, I was destined for a career monopolised by the written word on the pages of a magazine. I had it in my head that a job as a ‘Features Editor’ would have rocked my world, but it wasn’t to be.
  • Confetti. Yes I once got married (twice actually). There was confetti.
  • Cootie Catchers (see above), remember them? Just about the only piece of pseudo-origami I’ve ever mastered and only because it was a great way of getting through a boring maths lesson at school! I’m just sad that I don’t have a daughter to pass this gem of a childhood time-waster down to (along with cat’s cradle and French skipping)
  • The much vaunted ‘paperless office’. Yup, I work in one of those (so how come there is so much shredding I have to ask myself?) and then I try to imagine an office with no computers (and probably a lot of cigarette smoke) – how times have changed…
  • And finally, the advent of the e-book – yes I have a Kindle (two actually) and yes, the technology exists to make the experience of reading off a screen more like reading from a paper page, but where is the artefact? Where is the art? Where is the joy of flicking through the pages, the smell of fresh print, the vibrancy of a well-designed cover? No screen will ever replicate those experiences and if it does? We’re all doomed!

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