Monday, 17 December 2007

Dear Reader

What happened in that French tunnel 10 years ago?
Who knows?
But as the plot thins at every turn, has anyone else noticed just how perfect Princess Diana's letters were? It's almost as if she knew they'd be reproduced in a newspaper at some point.
On the other hand, that might be what it takes to get people back to writing proper letters, by hand, on expensive paper. The kind of letters worth keeping.
Think about it the next time you text someone: "Thnx 4 lst nite - it wz gr8."
Raise your game: write a letter, sign it with a flourish and then try to live the sort of life where a note from you will be worth hanging on to.. just in case.

Wednesday, 12 December 2007

Merry Christmas and all that

Tis the season of goodwill to all men and don't-mind-if-we-bring-the-deadline-forward-do-you to all freelancers.
Consequently, it'll be a bit quiet on the blog for a week or so.
I just can't be expected to think up funny things to write while filing copy early, making shepherd costumes, keeping the house clean and forgetting what I've ordered for everyone off the internet.
So, have a lovely Christmas and I hope the big fellow brings you something nice down the chimney.
And I'll be back to blogging when the leftovers are finished and the pine needles Hoovered up.

Thursday, 6 December 2007

girls talk shop

Tuesday night was the Women in Journalism Scotland Christmas party.
It was the group's first outing for a good long while and its return at Glasgow's Scotia Bar was given a hearty welcome - not least for the punch fountain and tasty feast.
Sure it's great to have an excuse for a blether about who's doing what where and a few sherries, but there's more to it than that.
You'd think that in 2007 glass ceilings, inflexible bosses and other bits of inequality were consigned to history books.
Sadly, though, work still needs to be done. There can't be many women who've been kicking about in the working world for more than a couple of years who don't carry a few scars from having to fight their corners once or twice.
The work-life balance chestnut, the fact no one seems to care about your opinion if you have grey hair or slightly less perky tits, knowing damn fine the new lad in the office is paid more than you, missing out on the golf-course deals, nasty big boy bullies who don't like women with ideas... and so it goes on.
Don't get me wrong - I quite like men and most of them aren't narrow-minded and sexist. It's just a pity that the few chauvinistic dinosaurs left are so good at making an impression.

Tuesday, 4 December 2007

Island hoping

I spent this weekend on a metaphorical island listening to the imaginary surf lapping along the fantastical shore, watching the sun rise and planning my made-up future.
No I haven't gone bonkers I was on a course run by the irrepressible Jack Black. I think they call him a motivational guru.
Essentially it was all about using all the bits of your brain - creative and methodical - being receptive to ideas and taking control of things. Not rocket science although for some in the audience it was an intense and transforming experience.
What has surprised me is my own reluctance to blog about it. Maybe everyone people would react with that tight smile and almost imperceptible stepping back which accompany the thought: "She's desperate and now she's obsessed. Please Lord, don't make her try to convert me."
Fear not. I won't.
But I do wonder what makes us all so resistant to something that blatantly works for so many people. Perhaps the reason is that everyone (except me, and things are still pretty good for me) has a perfect life with all their goals attained and ambitions met. No?
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