2016 was a wonderful year

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Ha! Now that surprised you, didn’t it? Someone singing the praises of a year in which we saw the UK divided over Brexit, Donald Trump – DONALD TRUMP! – elected president of the United States, hate crimes rise, an MP killed for speaking up for the helpless, war in Syria, the return of the Cold War and the death of Princess Leia (not to mention all the other heroes we grew up with).

Added to that, this year, I heard about the first death of someone I’d known at school. Other people I know have been diagnosed with terminal illnesses.

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I’m a feminist… aren’t I?

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It’s been one of the central tenets of my life – that I am a feminist. But now, I’m not so sure. Why do I say that? In the words of Max Bygraves, let me tell you a story…

It started, like all human interactions these days, on social media. A friend tagged me into a video of Laura Perrins, the co-editor of The Conservative Woman website, and asked for thoughts.

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Thank EU very much

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And now it’s August…

July’s been a busy month. We started off with a weekend away in Bournemouth and ended it back home in Newcastle, meeting family across from Canada who I haven’t seen for three years (practically to the day).

In between, there’s been lots of gym visits and a discovery that I can actually play squash – if you don’t worry too much about my service. Continue reading

The 10 joys of getting older

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After the doom and gloom of the past few days, I needed a cheer-me-up so counted the blessings of growing older…

  1. No more periods.

A friend of mine adores Auntie Flo coming each month. “I feel like a woman,” she says. I say she’s a bloody fool – as I may have told her once or twice or 59 million times. No more pain, no more hassle, no more mood swings (that one’s added at the insistence of Mr 50 Sense). I mean, obviously, I’ll be saying goodbye to white jeans, pouring blue water on me knickers and skydiving, but some sacrifices are worth it. Continue reading

15 signs you’re getting old

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My mam once told me that she wakes up and she’s 18. Then she tries to get out of bed and she’s 80. I know what she means – some days I wake up and I still feel I should be heading off to sixth form. Which is why I spent a half hour squealing on the swings in the local playground last week. (It was Mr 50 Cents fault as he was pushing me too high.)

So how do you know when you’re getting old? Well, I’ve discovered that there are some subtle signs to watch out for… Continue reading

My haunted house

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No matter what crazy scheme I’ve set my heart on doing, my mam has 99 per cent of the time said one thing: “Eeeee, well, go do it. If it all goes wrong, you can always come back home.” (The one per cent was my New Romantic phase in my early teens, when I tried to go into town wearing Steve-Strange-meets-Dame Edna-Everage make-up, she told me that I couldn’t actually leave the house.)

But now that’s gone. I have no home any more.

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