millenium babies.

by charlotte guest

If we work off averages, I have just entered the second quarter of my life.

This makes me an elder to the millennium babies. As such, I expect reasonable levels of respect from these children, expressed in the form of manners.

Now this is no militant imposition of stuffy rules of address or behavioural procedures, it's simply a matter of being polite and acknowledging that because I have a bigger digit, I am therefore better.

dear internet users,

by kimberley veart

I understand that you appreciate wondrous abilities of the internet and have perhaps rejected the archaic practice of writing letters in favour of the efficiency of the email. However let me entreat you not to dismiss ‘snail mail’ so easily.

My main reason for this is self-preservation, as I am rather awkward email user. My issue with email is that I never want to respond immediately to a message for fear of getting caught in an awkward ‘instant reply’ situation which eventually someone has to end. I’d also rather people imagine that I have a life instead of being on the computer awaiting their message.

i want to ride my bicycle.

by kimberley veart

I blame Roman Holiday. Audrey Hepburn, I’m afraid is completely culpable for the romantic notions I entertain about bicycle riding.

My idea of riding my bicycle sees me effortlessly gliding along to a peppy yet mellow soundtrack, something bouncy with a xylophone perhaps. The breeze delicately plays with my hair and skirt and I smile happily as the world passes me by. I arrive at my destination looking and feeling like a goddess of health and beauty, which of course in my mind’s eye equates to Gwyneth Paltrow.