It's been a year since I started this blog so I thought it might be a useful time to take stock.
With some degree of horror, I notice that it's also almost a year since I sat down to begin the 4th book. What the hell have I been doing with my time? Well, let me tell you....
1) Facebook - I find myself logging onto here whenever I am on the internet. And here was me thinking I was too old for it. Though often it feels like a complete and utter waste of time I do enjoy having some rather wonderful writers as my 'friends' and Aaron Sorkin's amazing question and answer sessions are always a delight. You can become my friend here
2) Being a housewife - This is what they don't tell you about being a mum. You also become a housewife. Once upon a time I cooked, cleaned, washed and generally looked after just one person. Me. Co-habiting brought about another person to consider, but generally housewivery was still a minor part of my life. Then you are a mother and suddenly there is a new person, one who requires more food, more cleaning and more washing than you ever thought possible, one who often seems to leave a trail of crumbs or banana goo wherever she goes and is utterly incapable of doing anything for herself except fetching her own shoes (as long as they are within immediate sight) and sometimes taking washing out the machine (if micro-managed) Being a mum is not all toddler groups, nursery rhymes and crayons let me tell you. Mostly it's housework.
3) Researching book 5 - Very naughty, but lately my favourite form of procrastination (cos it still feels a bit like work, yeah?) is reading everything I can find about bereavement, post-traumatic stress and aid projects in Asia. I am VERY excited about Book 5. Currently my sole motivaion for finishing Book 4 is so that I can start Book 5.
A year on and I'm still not sure what this blog should really be about. I don't feel I do much of anything interesting enough to tell my boyf about when he gets home from the office let alone blog about, so this can't be one of those girl-around-town diaries that I once liked and now am far too jealous of to read. The world needs another yummy-mummy blog like a hole in the head. My interest in celebrity is waning (I know! WTF? Maybe it's the economic climate?) and I sense my writing leaning more towards the strong emotional stories that my agent has always insisted were hidden beneath the glitz of my tittle-tattle. So I am unlikely to be the next Perez Hilton. So what then?
Before this drifts into the kind of existential rant that I simply don't have time for (see above) I should sum up by looking back to my very first blog entry. I may be a housewife not a girl-around-town, I may not rub shoulders with celebrity quite as often as I used to, I may spend way to much time on facebook - but my god I am still zeitgeist enough to have picked Cheryl Tweedy Cole as the subject of my very first post, back when she was just the Geordie one from Girls Aloud. This really has been Cheryl's year and I am happy for her. Maybe all you really need to become a national superstar is a cheating twat of a husband to prove something to.