Friday, 28 November 2014


So the Priory is going to the City. The Surrey one deals with the banker's wives and the City one is dealing with the banker.  Simplistic generalisation but basically on the money.
The ones who should go, won't because they think there's nothing wrong with them and its everyone else that has something wrong with them. And most of the really psychotic ones have already left having been dismissed for doing the banks bidding with 'wilful obtuseness' I think the financial ombudsman called it.  In other words, lying through their white capped teeth.   Will any of them who become farmers, bed and breakfast owners, interior designers, spiritual healers or whatever ever admit to once being a 'banker'?   I think not.
As for the rest, the ones who go, will not want to admit it because they work in environments that nurture/attract sociopaths who don't give a toss about anything other than their own needs which they will satisfy at any cost to others.
The city is big on self absorb not self aware, and they already know how to mind fuck so I am genuinely more concerned about the counsellor than I am about the 'patient'.  The English Psycho could out manoeuvre the American one any day.   These guys think they are omnipotent. Well, they've got away with screwing the world's global economy, and probably worse, why not?     Trying to get them to believe they are not God is a waste of breathe.  And hey, they don't need help anyway. Its those who live with them who do.

Tuesday, 25 November 2014


That name should get the number of hits up on this blog.  I wanted to put two more in, but then thought twice.   Teresa May after all will be going through everyone's dirty laundry soon, although from what I heard this weekend those in the upper echelons  ( must think of a better name for them..) have got the dirtiest laundry of them all.

Who will be going through the emails?  I imagine little elves beavering away in the cellars of Westminster in the midnight hours.   Friends of Tony Blair (FOTB)?    Talking of which….. I attended a charity event at the weekend. It was excellent and the performances were wonderful but it was the after event chat that was as intriguing as the event was grand. I was with people who know everyone, as in know/talk to/listen to everyone who is anyone who is written about in broadsheets and tabloid.  I know no one. In fact one of my dear friends once said to me (she is successful but not corruptibly so) 'I can speak to you openly Sarah because you don't know anyone'  I think she meant in her industry.

Any way, back to the after event chatter, where people were talking about who was suing who, and who was libelling who and who was doing what to whom and why wasn't anyone doing anything about it (I mainly said the last line, to which they always looked at me and said FOTB), I now think (having listened to this conversation) anyone who has reached the top of their game, especially in finance but any industry actually, is revolting - inside if not out. Revolting as in if you listened to stories about them they would make you physically sick, which is what I became. And they will all be OK because they are FOTB.     In order to get where they are, they have sold their soul.  I am trying to find another way of putting it, but no, that about sums it up.     I know a handful of good eggs who are at the top, but actually they're not really at the top. They are just very comfortable.    So they don't count.   Admittedly I don't mix in these circles that call themselves elite - and I'm pleased I don't.   I did for a short while and it was a bit like the party scene from Devils Advocate meets the dance scene from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

I think I've had a bad year, but boy, compared to this lot I've had it good.  Listening to the shenanigans (is that how you spell it?) of the upper echelons in society they must be an extremely bored and unimaginative lot.  I suppose there is only so much champagne you can drink, fancy restaurants you can go to, money and secrets you can hoard or hide.  Well as its Christmas they can all get together for their parties and pretend to be friends or enemies.     Its Christmas and Scrooge is on TV and that historian Dickens would look upon todays society and see how little the rich have learnt.   Scrooge was scared almost to death by the thought of going to hell which kick started him into generosity.  After Sunday, my feeling is now things have got far worse. Ghosts could visit this lot and they would still be bah humbugging, and on the quiet probably buggering Tiny Tim.

Tuesday, 18 November 2014


Waterstones, 6.30pm to 8 friends turned up to hear me talk about the latest book, including two ex boyfriends.  Thank you guys.  I really appreciated it.  And everyone else who came, thank you. To John who came all the way over from Essex and hates leaving his village let alone crossing London.   And Claire, thank you, you are so supportive and always lovely and fit everything and everyone in in your incredibly busy life.   Wish I had half your time management skills although I think like me, you sleep very little.   Julie and Nikki, you're always there for me.  And Ailsa - you are amazing!  Jo and her beautiful daughter - thank you for tweeting. and Chantal - another one who's a compulsive go getter but makes it look easy (its not).  And Richard huge huge thank you and hope the review isn't too bad.   I still remember the one I got from the Telegraph for my first book. It was a stinker.   But I learn from bad reviews, just like I do shitty people and I have had both in spadefuls this year - bad reviews and shitty people. But it makes the good ones shine bright.  I'm getting rid of the dead wood and helping others with yoga do the same.  I read once if you visualise a gravestone with their names on it, its one way of making them RIP, but I heard that a woman did that once and it actually happened.  So I'm not going to go there.  

I have been writing my christmas card list.   For once I am sending cards to people I have seen this year.  People who have been so supportive and kind, not just distant names I knew once.   I've got to know them again.  And managing to do productive stuff. Taught yoga this morning to a lovely class - and they like me.  That's so nice.   I've had a lot of hate. That's the only way I can put it, hate, coming my way this year and although its made me stronger and more aware of myself, it has made me much more aware of others.  After all, hate is fear.    We all have problems don't we.  Just I've become aware others have much bigger issues than me.  And boy do they dump.  But its all material for a writer. I'm here to observe, not judge.

Sunday, 9 November 2014


But good. Good week in that I got out and it took me away from the computer screen. World Travel Market was its usual nutty and eclectic self, but I arrived on the Monday when everyone was fresh faced.  Check out the new company  They are a company to watch, and go with.  I also visited on the Wednesday and noticed everyone drooping.  I have worked at exhibitions before. It is exhausting.

I attended the Luxury Travel Market - much smaller and more civilised affair (thick pile cream carpets, Mosimanns instead of Costa catering).    I liked those people I met at the stands very much but not those walking around the stands.  The sort who give generously to charity, look like brother and sister more than husband and wife, but if they want something you want they would rip your face off to get it first.  You wouldn't want to know them let alone be their friends.  

Next door was the must buy market.   The Spirit of Christmas, (spend spend spend)   the jumble sale for the upper middle classes, also had the type - but mainly women who should listen carefully to the lyrics of Joni Mitchell's Harry's House.  Polished and subtly perfumed despite their botox, facials, manicures, pedicures, boots, cashmere sweater look, they look utterly miserable.  And no amount of buying beautiful things can fix it.  Nothing. Not even the most interesting smelly candles (there were over forty stands selling smelly candles - how many do you need?)  They won't find what they need at Spirit of Christmas. Perhaps Brandy will do the trick.   There was actually a stand which sold 'posh trash'.     In the midst of this upper middle class madness I found the Linseed Oil Farm selling wonderful linseed flapjacks, and a stand selling furry knickers. They were my favourites and the person who will hopefully illustrate the front cover to my next book.  No more selfless so no photos.  

Check out which is quickly getting more info on where to go for emotional issues. This week - where to go if you are going to have an emotional breakdown.  So that's everyone then. 

Tuesday, 4 November 2014


I am very very upset.   I don't care about all the other crap the past two years - but I care about the tortoises. They have been with us since we moved to Richmond. It was tough moving here.   Tom was only three and still bemused why daddy had wanted to take the TV from the house.   We were going on an adventure, not a bear hunt, even more exciting, a home hunt.   To Richmond the other side of London, or the world as far as we knew.   Estate agents had tried to sell us everything under the sun other than the precise brief I had given them.   So we had moved home to rent until I had researched every road in Richmond (which I did) to see how the land lay. I saw the tortoises and bought two, to keep each other company.  They have been to France with us back and forth, loving the space, and with their passports (they have very long names) they have got on like an old married couple although I have never been sure if they are male/female, two males or two females and I'm not sure if they are either.   They are wonderful little dinosaurs in my home and other than Bruno I much prefer them to any other animal.   I am not a dog person or a cat person (Bruno you are the exception because you only visit occasionally for food) and then go.   The cats I am looking after are very cute and cuddly but they are also very noisy, needy and greedy - like the worst sort of boyfriend. Or if you're a bloke, I suppose you'd say girlfriend.  I am a tortoise person. They are so calming to have round the house (cats are not), they don't eat much, they were expensive to buy but they have been worth every penny.    True, I'm not sure if its Bill or Ben who's been eaten but I miss him/her anyway.

Monday, 3 November 2014


World Travel Market, by passing the Real America for Authentic India on route to the Falklands with a seven foot penguin dressed in a union jack. Yup, World Travel Market.    Africa was quiet.  I rode a Harley Davidson and have promoted it on for women who want to do a Thelma and Louise without the cliff jump.   Men shouldn't do Harley Davidson's especially those in mid life crisis biker leathers. Not cool, even if you do have a beard and can cook.    The travel trends are to do with mammals (men in lycra cycling). The craze in the States, although Richmond Upon Thames has got their first.  Go early before the gates open at Richmond and there they are cycling round, looking like morose puffed up seals and walruses depending on their girth.    Braggies are those who take photos of themselves when they travel, so I'm guilty of that one too, but hey its a blog.  And will not do it as much now. (THE ONE BELOW THE LAST ONE PROMISE…) Nor the yoga poses.  Online travel booking is pushing the rest of the market slowly but not completely out.
What else?  We like to stay in peoples homes abroad and eat with them. I see that lasting to a point - not because the demand will reduce, just the supply.   Sports Tourism with the rugby world cup landing here next year (just up the road actually).  And lastly, the fining of parents who take their children out of school for holidays during term time. People would actually vote for the party who gets rid of the fines.   That is how much they think of our politicians.  If they can keep one little promise they will vote for them.   As for the future, they think travel will invoke android and holographic staff in resorts, virtual reality holidays,
ipads used by guest as in reassert, hypersonic flight, tours in driverless vehicles, and fingerprint passports.  And oh yes, space travel.  But this was before the crash.