Thanks. No really. I mean it. 

Thanks for being kind about my blog. Thanks for reading it, liking it, sharing it, commenting on it, saying nice things about it, putting up with my overuse of the word vagina (which must have a Freudian interpretation) (Rachael! Hannah! Mummy’s at the vagina again!) and all the other annoying things I do like not closing brackets and writing big long sentences and not giving a hoot. I’m sure somebody out there must be bitching about it though –

“Who does she think she is with her shitty blog? Swanning around the internet like she’s got hooses tae let”

Christ knows why I do it. I just get the urge to write stuff down. It probably makes up for some deficiency elsewhere like my intolerance for chatting on the phone or making small talk. I don’t write it necessarily because I want folk to read it; I could just as easily do it anonymously but just think of the terrible things I could say if it was anonymous! That’d cause a right howdydoody!  

I fancied writing an anonymous bloggy blog about my brief and calamitous foray into online dating but I’m toying with the idea of writing that for an open mic night so I can act out the accompanying actions. No I really am. And that’d be nae fun if it was anonymous. In fact it would be nigh on impossible. 

I should really include pictures in the blog now and again so here are two. Here’s my bedside table. I’ve a thing about having fluids beside my bed apparently, and errr…oatcakes…and kiwi fruit…and sinus spray.