How to make friends in a new town

As adults, I feel like making friends is something we think we’ve forgotten how to do. Like, for the most part we definitely know we have had the ability to make friends at some point in our lives, because we have friends to prove that hypothesis. But who can honestly remember how they got there?

This is starting to feel like the build-up to some life-changing advice that’s really worth something, so I should quickly confirm that it absolutely is not that. What I did is exactly what the thousand other articles you’ve probably already read have already told you to do. But sometimes it helps to have something super-obvious reiterated one last time.… Read More How to make friends in a new town

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Bloody well summer, innit.

Back when I lived in London I enjoyed the nice weather up until around late spring, but then the humidity would arrive, and the bad-tempered, sweaty men on the northern line would take up even more room while manspreading, and the air felt like it had somehow thickened in the heat, which was a phenomenon I had always previously assumed was reserved for sauces alone.… Read More Bloody well summer, innit.

So, I might not be a minimalist

Now that I have a whole dwelling to myself, I spend an inordinate amount of time reading articles about all of the ways I’m failing to maintain an aspirational millenial home. I don’t have a cactus. Nothing is rose gold. I literally couldn’t give a shit about hygge.

Unfortunately, though, it is not even remotely in my nature to have a curated or (perish the thought) minimalist living situation. I like stuff too much.… Read More So, I might not be a minimalist

The joy of saying ‘no’

Being new in town, though, and in need of Cornwall friends, I’ve definitely taken on more than I can keep up. Promise me, however vaguely, that it might be ‘a good way to meet people’ and I have always been there. It’s just that it’s a lot. I do tap dance on Mondays, yoga on Tuesdays, roller derby also on Tuesdays, choir on Wednesdays, paddleboarding any time of the week… I basically do more extra-curricular activities than some middle class five-year-olds whose parents already set their sights on them going to Cambridge.… Read More The joy of saying ‘no’

The man at the cinema who can bite me

To the front of him are three rows. Anybody in possession of any level of logic knows that those three rows are going to be A, B, and C. This man decides his ticket is actually telling him to sit one row further back next to a very pretty blonde girl who immediately becomes engrossed in conversation with her friend. That is not how the alphabet works.

As the people in D 1-4 stand up to let the man out, he lifts a leg and tries to climb over his seat into the row behind (which the citizens of row D all know is row E, but we’ve made a psychic agreement not to say anything on account of the fact that we all just want this man out of our lives).… Read More The man at the cinema who can bite me