Even as a Weegie* I’ve always felt kinda continental. Somehow or other my own DNA circumvented the dominant freckly-faced, gingery genes of my Scottish, English and Irish heritage, and I’ve always harboured the fantasy that there must be un poco of Spanish pirate somewhere in our family bloodline. But as I sit here in this
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Category Archives: Me, myself, I
I am the enemy. Or at least I used to be. Once upon a time, I was one of the bad guys. Back in the day, I earned a crust as a member of the Fourth Estate, Oh yes, dahlings, for a great big chunk of my adult life, I worked in the media. Yep,
As the year end approaches, I’m feeling quite low I’ve been under the weather and business is slow Try as I might, there’s been scant seasonal cheer (But that’s partly because of Trump’s odious leer) The weather’s gone mental and the daffs are in bud The rain keeps on rainin’ and there’s mud, copious mud
Business, it’s like childbirth. Well alright then, commerce is heehaw like childbirth, but there certainly are a couple of uncomfortable parallels. Firstly, if you knew the truth about what running a business is really like you’d have to think very seriously indeed about whether you’d go through it or not. And then, of course, there’s the exhaustion.
I’m a nasty, bitchy old hag. Official. Aye. I’ve come over all evil this October, and that’s without the benefit of facepaint and fancy dress. But if you cannae sharpen your talons, bare your fangs and be a wicked auld witch in Hallowe’en week, then you might as well hang up your broomstick for good. Bitchy behaviour’s
Photo courtesy Elaine Livingstone Photography Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the feministest of them all? Sorry sistas, but it’s certainly not me. Not this month, anyway. It pains and shames me to ‘fess up, but it looks like I might not register quite as highly on the sisterhood solidarity scale as I’d always
Teachers need some education. And I’m not talking the 3 Rs. I’m talking talking. Please Miss, and Mister, gonnae no’ keep talking to parents like they are single celled amoeba. Gonna please not bother with the hectoring, the condescension, the superiority syndrome and the preachy patter. It’s not big, and it certainly ain’t clever coming
I am pure authentic, me. Really, I am. When it comes to small business, I am the real deal. I am 100% pure in heart, mind and practice. Except, of course, I’m not. What I am is 100% pure human business being – flaws, foibles, failings and all. If that makes me genuine and brimful
I’m big and ugly enough. Big and ugly enough to have dodged being punched during my 15 years working within the rarefied bubble of broadcasting. What I didn’t escape were some full-on “talent” tirades. I’ve endured hissy fits, being bawled out in public, and blamed for everything under the sun. I’ve bobbed and weaved as
