i hereby make a vow: i will never again talk about another woman’s body. (or at least, goshdarnit, i’m gonna try).

i won’t discuss how fat/thin/scrawny/cellulite-covered she is, whether or not her hair’s a mess or her teeth stick out or her bum looks big in that dress or should she show off her baby bump or did she lose her baby weight too quickly. i won’t compliment her boobs or criticise her bum.

NOTHING.

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another piece intended for publication that never quite made it. because i missed the boat on talking about independent bookshops rather than because i’m rubbish. apparently.

On a well-known London literary street two competing bookshops sit opposite each other. One is a large, well established independent; the other a branch of a large chain. Loyal to independents I made that my first port of all when I found myself in London recently. The shop had a great selection, with some highly specialised niche subject areas and a large range of fiction, magazines and gifts.

But this mythical place, a large independent bookshop that’s managed to weather the economy for over 100 years, was actually a bit of a disappointment. The atmosphere was kind of flat, (perhaps because there weren’t that many customers) the staff I spoke to were brusque bordering on scary and the café was tiny and cramped. It goes without saying (doesn’t it?) that in an independent you expect to pay the cover price (with maybe a small discount on occasion) so I was surprised this one had a ‘3 for the price of 2’ table, but the selection was so anaemic and dated as to be worthless. And if you’re charging full price for everything, you have to give the customer something extra in terms of service, surely!

The only thing I really loved about the shop was the books, and I can get those anywhere, so I walked across the street to the chain store. What a different atmosphere! Buzzing with people, my only complaint is the queues were too long (including for the Ladies’ – London needs more loos!) The decent-sized café (OK, a Starbucks, but it was nice), great discounts, a wide and interesting range and cute and colourful concessions made the chain a much nicer experience.

It’s not the conclusion I wanted or expected to draw but I won’t be going back to the independent next time I’m in the capital. Book lovers are always being told that If we want our independents to survive we have to support them. But will they return the favour? If I’m going to be scowled at whilst buying books before i sit in a noisy and cramped café to ‘relax’, I’d rather support the chains.

And as I know of so few decent independent book shops, I don’t think I have much choice.

this weekend i experienced the journey intensive. it was, as it says on the tin, intensive.

moving, intense, enlightening, surprising, scary, fulfilling, tear- and laugh-filled… and hard to describe. i wanted to write more about what we did, what exactly the course involved, but i feel like i need to treasure it to myself for now. (there’s also a lot i can’t tell anyone for confidentiality reasons, which is a darn shame let me tell you!)

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i’m succumbing to the lure of the f.a.q.

in honour of my upcoming two-year blogaversary, i’m taking questions (about me, blogging, my blog, nuclear physics and the meaning of life, etc.) which i will answer on said blogaversary in a shamelessly self-indulgent way. i’ll also use them to put togther a shamelessly self-indulgent f.a.q for newcomers to my blawg.

so if there’s anything you’re dying mildly interested to know, post it here or email me (dianewhatdoyoudo@googlemail.com) and we’ll see what i can do. keep ‘em clean!

please, somebody ask something…

newcomers to the blog - and those with bad memories - won’t know that the introductory paragraph in my sidebar used to declare that i owned “more bags than any woman has a right to” a fact that was and is indisputably true. one day i’ll take a picture of my impressive collection.

i will, however, need a widescreen lens.

but one bag i didn’t have was a carry-on bag. and one thing i will be doing over the next year is travelling. and not in a back-packing kind of way, in a grown-up holiday kind of way. finding my fabby, 360 degree swivelling wheel purple suitcases was easy but finding my carry-on bag was hard. i looked everywhere i could think of online: miss selfridge, oasis, ebags, ebay, topshop, M&S, principles, wallis, warehouse, evans and a few more besides. nothing. i wanted a leather (or at least leatherish) bag with straps big enough to fit over my shoulder and enough room for a couple of books, an ipod, camera, magazine, flight documents, some flight socks(!), mobile phone, lip balm, etc. basically i wanted a large handbag, but sturdy. i was having no luck finding anything large enough that also had long straps and looked attractive - more often it was 1 out of 3. then, last weekend, i went shoe shopping. having had a (very) rare victory, scoring 3 proper pairs of shoes and a couple of £5 pairs for beachwear-type situations, i decided to call in at river island on the way home, as they have a whole floor dedicated to accessories, from earrings to belts to bags. i was sure i’d find something good. but i only saw one bag i liked, and it was £90 - WAY too expensive! and light suede - how long would that last?! so i sighed and resigned myself to another day without my dream bag.

my mum wanted to call in at john lewis on the way home as she’s decided to take up knitting and make herself a scarf. while she was browsing wools, i took a look at their bag selection. there was a red handbag that was very pretty and not bad space-wise, but the straps were a bit short. there were a couple of so-so fiorellis (i know a lot of people like their stuff but i always find it a tad boring) but nothing on any of the other shelves, and i was near the end of the bag section… and then i saw it.

i saw IT. my heart began to beat faster and my palms started to sweat. i dumped my pile of shopping and bent over for a better look at this image of bagly perfection. it was bee-yootiful. black leather with gold ‘hardware’ it had a handle and shoulder strap, front and side pockets and plenty of room inside. it would be ideal for travel but could also be used as a big handbag or even a university bag/laptop holder (if i had a laptop that is). the only glitch was the price, which made me wince. and also cringe. i had never spent that much on a bag. i had never spent more than £42 on bag, and that was painful. but this bag was more than that. it was £565.

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ms mac did this bookly meme a while ago, and i… stole it. but i added on the first question to be different. you know i like to talk books! plus, it’s kind of an ideal post-trashionista ‘what next for my reading future?’ (or something slightly less self-indulgent).

what have you just read?

a very interesting collection of funny autobiographical essays on being fired, called… fired! tales of the canned, cancelled, downsized and dismissed. i really recommend it. before that, home by julie myerson which was a work of art. and i also just read and loved on becoming fearless so much i have added arianna huffington to my inspiring women list.

what are you reading now?

how to survive your mother. it sounds like a self-help book and the cover looks like a misery memoir, but it’s neither. it’s part TV journo jonathan maitland’s biography of his mother (a very interesting character) and partly a memoir of his investigation into her um, ‘misdeeds’, which he only becomes aware of in his forties… funny, sometimes shocking and a definite page turner.

do you have any idea what you’ll read when you’re done with that?

yes, thank you.

oh, you want me to tell you?

i have louise doughty’s novel in a year waiting for me at the library along with water for elephants. (i’m also hoping bill bryson’s shakespeare and peter falk’s autobiog turn up there soon…)

what’s the worst thing you were ever forced to read?

at junior school, a teacher made us listen to her read - which is even worse - the hobbit. i floated off into a trance and hated tolkein from that day forwards. » more…

i talked to my nutritionist on the phone this week. she has one of those hands-free headsets so she can take notes during conversations, but unfortunately it makes her almost inaudible. so on thursday, as i was straining (and for some strange reason, squinting) to hear her, she mentioned that as my pH test results show i’m “a bit acidic” (like i didn’t know that already!) i’d benefit from a mixture of magnesium and calcium called ionic cow.

“hee hee,” i thought, “finally a supplement name that shows a sense of humour!” ionic for the type of formulation, and cow because of the calcium, see?

then i got the information my nutritionist sent me two days later. » more…