During the heady days of my second year at university I first ventured into the world of the weekly column. Called 'North by South', it made sweeping regional generalisations based on the often tragically amusing anecdotes that comprised my life in Newcastle. I managed to string it out for 18 issues and get my face recognised in Marks' and by drunk student clubbers, who would often subsequently remark that I was an ignorant southerner or something, and that they read my weekly 600 words of self-indulgence solely because of how pleasantly angry it made them (this is another tragically amusing anecdote, by the way). Plus it allowed me to write about Greggs every once in a while.
Were I to try writing one now, I'd be a bit stuck. After all, today, my last work-free day before I lose another sunny weekend to an air-conditioned hole, I have achieved the following things:
- hemmed an early 90s Aztec-print charity-sourced skirt WITH POCKETS.
- secured a 'tutoring' gig.
- taught myself how to tutor about King Lear (i.e., read King Lear)
- enjoyed the news that Nick Griffin was refused entry to the Buckingham Palace tea party - Go Queen!
- baked a couple of cakes, cocked up the icing. I think it looks 'rustic'.
- Decided that any attempts to make my late 80s hounds tooth-print summer trousers acceptable enough for Milton Keynes (teaming them with savage wedge boots and a top not sourced from my floor) was not worth it to watch Toy Story 3 and reluctantly changed out of them (comfy) into early 90s mum jeans (comfy, but nothing in comparison).
Hardly face-recognising quality content. This became all the more apparent when I was directed to Neil Boorman's new column on viceland.com. Unlike me, he's actually formed copy on events of interest to more than one person and writes about them with Paxman-esque withering 'tude whilst owning a diversely proportional amount of qualifications. Check it outttt.
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