Welcome. I feel that is what should be said when someone visits something for the first time and as this is my first post it is definitely what is called for. I have pondered many many times to start and it was after watching another episode of Dylan Moran's comedy Black Books that I felt compelled to finally put finger to keyboard... My life has taken a sudden turn down an unknown road recently and to say it has gotten slightly monotonous would be one way of describing it. The realisation of this I think hit me last night during my, what has now become, regular routine of in bed by 11.30, followed by one episode of favourite comedy show of choice (two if I'm feeling frivolous) and lights out if I can help it by 1am. And as to not to start developing mould, moss and any other green form of foliage which grows on something which has been stationary for too long, this is my attempt to be the rolling stone.
Keep moving. Keep producing. Keep creating. Must not become repetitive, boring and start stories with the line ‘my cat did the funniest thing yesterday...’

5th September 2010.

It’s official. Summer is over. I relish the thought of waking every morning to find a tropical idyll behind my curtains as I rip them back. It has proved not to be disappointing over the last week since being back in England after a 10 day stint in Berlin and Budapest and I felt I had cheated the English skies by moving countries to soak up the best weather. A week of cloudless skies and feeling hot under my clothes, I had got the best of it. But no. Today yes back to that morose reality. I don’t mind winter, wearing lots of layers, chunky knits and boots worn with thick socks. It’s the first transition that takes the hardest to get used to. One minute the house smells of coconut scented sun cream and my bikini is never dry. And the next I’m looking at my jumpers as if it’s just spat at me. Resentment that I have to wear these long sleeves and cover up my hard attempts at, for once, gaining a tan. Not that that has EVER worked in my favour! On second thoughts, what’s so bad about the cold breeze rushing in from months of being beaten away by the sun?? At least now I don’t have to wear sunglasses just to avoid the glare from my white as sheet legs as the light bounces off them. Or worry about the flab that has developed from my 3rd year. I was far too busy and stressed to think about setting aside time to go to the gym/netball practice and prise that 8th biscuit from my hand. That 8th biscuit was the pinnacle point to when concentration finally set it, of course...

So yes, as much as I will miss that sudden rush of excitement when the sun beams into my room in the morning, giving me the incentive to grasp the day by the balls, it does actually alleviate a lot of unnecessary bother about thinking which top makes the tops of my arms look less chubbed because now the social graces of winter have arrived where it is deemed careless to show this part of one’s body. Thank god for rain...