Author Archives: Hayley Campbell

(Read Part I if you are late to this particular party in which I reveal the things that men say. To me. To my face. To my actual face.) B.I. #7 01-12 ‘I mean, I’m not gay or anything but … Continue reading →

Each time a lithe heap of muscle approaches me all wrapped in spandex and says they’re a personal trainer and do I need help I say ‘Yes, I do,’ because obviously. I am new here. I follow it up with … Continue reading →

I am in no way qualified to spout opinions on the breastfeeding of tiny babies seeing as I have pushed no baby out of my body ever. Know this. The reasons for inexpertly floating the subject are two-fold: i. it’s … Continue reading →

My first proper boyfriend — I say proper meaning we lived together and our collective underpants tumbled together in one 60-degree machine wash — was a man with little to no taste. He owned exactly two CDs. This is not … Continue reading →

There’s a thing that happens around the time my face becomes routinely obscured by a rediscovered scarf from the back of the wardrobe; when the cold streets suddenly fill with little woolly spheres which I presume are the small children … Continue reading →

I was the first of three babies to slide out of my dear Mum over the course of a few years. I don’t know if the gene pool was particularly shallow the day they ladled some out for me, but … Continue reading →

I spunk an inordinate amount of time on the Internet, Internet, and during that time yesterday when I could have been writing a book or cooking an actual meal so as to nourish my body with something other than a … Continue reading →

I deliberately think and worry about things in order to delay sleep, which is a bad thing I do just to avoid a certain dream I’ve been having on a bi-monthly basis since roughly 1992, AD. I worry about the … Continue reading →