Hola Barcelona

I wake up to find Luke staring into space. 'What's up?' I ask, moving my knotted bed hair off my face. 'Thinking about money,' he replies. 'Didn't sleep a wink last night,' he adds. I don't have the heart to tell him he was snoring like a trooper. He does this regularly: the staring into space, not the snoring. It's usually either about money or work.Another couple we know have just been offered newspaper jobs in Abu Dhabi with a 35 per cent wage rise and a chance to work with a former Fleet Street editor. 'Jealous?' Luke asks me, when I tell him. 'Yup,' I say. ...more

Muscle Mountain Overload

I need to spend less time at the gym. ...more

Miffed I'm A MILF

The wee scrote is pointing at me and balling, 'MILF, MILF, there's a MILF on the train.' The cheeky bugger. Mother I would like to "fondle", indeed. The schoolgirls, in skirts so short they make my eyes pop out, laugh and shout out, 'Bye Daryl, bye Briney.' Yes, yes, time to get on your way. This is testament, if any were needed, that I am not the young girl about town I thought I was. Miss Jean Brodie and I have something in common: we are in our prime. ...more

One Onion And Three Tubs Of Bisto

'When I was poor in Japan, I could survive days eating only flour and water,' I say proudly. 'I'd make homemade chapatis,' I add to reiterate my point that, given our stricken financial circumstances, we can economise. Luke looks depressed. 'I'd hope at the age of 35, after working 17 years in a profession, and earning a good salary, I wouldn't need to live off flour and water.' He has a point. ...more

Not Banking on Rankin

'You sound much posher than you used to,' my former university tutor says. 'That's because I'm putting on my posh voice for you,' I reply. 'You don't have to pretend to be posh for me,' he laughs. The hair is whiter and the arms are more muscular, but the clothes and voice haven't changed. I'm not sure if he does truly remember me, but he's making a good show of it when I shyly say hello. I'm at the Edinburgh International Book Festival with my book group friends on our annual day trip. I know, I know, the rock 'n' roll factor is off the scale. ...more

Willy ops and Bros

The creative writing course emailed to apologise for forgetting to send me their welcome letter two weeks ago. They also want me to prepare a one-paragraph biog to introduce myself to the other students. Luke comes up with this genius (he made me write that) suggestion: ...more

Macedonia Meltdown

'My wallet's been nicked,' Luke writes in a text from Macedonia, where he's covering the Scotland qualifying game for the World Cup. I think it's the World Cup. 'It had all, and I mean all, my money in it,' comes his next terse text message. '100 plus' is his third text when I ask how much he has lost. This is all we fecking need. ...more

Scabby Reject

Well, I feel like a right scab. And the day was going so well. This morning, scoffing coffee and toast in bed, I finished reading Cormac McCarthy's harrowing but brilliant The Road, and now, as I walk along another only slightly less post-apocalyptic-looking road, the sun is shining, a lorry man has tooted me, which shouldn't please me, but sadly does, and I've got a tasty sandwich in my bag to eat for my lunch. All is good with the world. ...more

Incompatible In The Bedroom

'It's just no good, we're never going to make it,' Luke declares in the morning. 'You're right, we just need to accept the truth. We're not bedroom compatible,' I sigh. He nods in agreement, adding, 'It's not our fault. When people ask what went wrong, I'll just say, 'Cameron used to steal all the pillows all the time, so I had her killed.' It's true, I'm a terrible hogger (and, some might argue, blogger). His would be a reasonable reaction. ...more

Making A Mess Of Massage Oil

Damn, it would appear I am in danger of alienating my only reader. Luke comes home after working a 10-hour shift (something to do with deadline-day for football players transferring clubs) and declares in a shocked voice that he read my blog today. ...more