Tag Archives: Malbec

I slept in the bathroom doorway wrapped in a curtain?

Good day to you, readers. How are you today? I am old. I’ve suspected this for a while (wrinkles; generally being asleep before midnight; interest in gourmet chutneys) but in the last week my advanced years have become impossible to ignore. By way of evidence I’m including a picture of me hanging out with old people on the Seine last week. This blog details the changes I am noticing in myself. So. I had dinner in a fashionable restaurant in Soho last night. I attired myself in what I believed to be a voguish ensemble. My sister (who actually is voguish) greeted … Continue reading

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The worst best date ever

Hello there chums! I write to you in a minor grump. It’s Sunday night and I have spent the entire weekend humping furniture and other junk around The Man’s flat, rather than stuffing my face with mince pies and jigging around like an excitable Christmas elf like I wanted to. Oh poor little Robinson, drowning under the sheer weight of my material possessions! What a twonk. So. In my last blog I found myself flailing around – rather unexpectedly – in the mad, bad world of internet dating. Not as a dater, mind. I think I’ve served my time there. … Continue reading

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Armpits and washing machines. Oh and a hot man.

This weekend I moved into my new abode, assumed the role of a scullery maid and spent a lot of time in an attractive man’s armpit. Having gone through a little bit of hell to find my old flat I was a little disconcerted when I found out, less than a week into my six month contract, that the contract had already been terminated by the owner. But this is to be expected, apparently, so I grinned and bore it. After a short search, my flatmate and I  found a new place that overlooks a very useful amenity: a cafe … Continue reading

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Old + drunk

At 3.15pm yesterday it was cold and crisp in Buenos Aires. The afternoon sun sliced through gaps between the higgeldy piggeldy buildings, blinding Lucy Robinson as she charged down Avenida Cabildo clutching bottles of champagne. She was not entirely sure why she was buying champagne to celebrate the transmission of a programme that revealed to the Channel 4-viewing universe that she was a complete psychopath, but it felt like an important moment and rarely has she needed an excuse to get on the champagne. (Especially when it is retailing at £5 a bottle.) She charged back into the classroom at … Continue reading

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I’m getting married…

My feelings of inappropriate lust for my Spanish tutor have reached unmanageable proportions: I think it might be time for us to part company. During our lesson this morning, as he presented me with me a cup of tea (he even served it with a little dish in which I could rest my teaspoon! I LOVE HIM) he said “You smile a lot in these lessons, no? I smiled very hard indeed. “It is because you are such a brilliant tutor, of course,” I replied in a moronic fashion, wishing I had not drunk so much Malbec the night before. … Continue reading

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Romance: Four options

Bloody hell. I still feel like I’m on drugs. I was just walking up a street – Malabia, if you’re interested – and felt so bamboozled by the act of having set up shop on the other side of the world that I had to stop for a good ten seconds to scrutinise myself in the reflection of a shop window. Yes, it was definitely me looking back. A bit scruffy; attired in head to toe topshop; hair like noodles; clutching the world’s largest bag full of unnecessary stuff. A very clear reflection of me. In fact, it was sufficiently … Continue reading

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