Stereotypes of a kind

Temporarily plucked the straw and seaweed out of my hair so that I could pass undetected among the commuters onto the London train this morning. Ah, London - a fabulous city - but why is everyone always in a rush? It makes me feel that I've been missed off the invitation list for a really exciting, life-changing - nay, seismic - event, a bit like always being the last one to be picked for the class netball team. Though admittedly I was / am crap at netball and indeed all sports involving implements.

Anyway, survived the bumpkin detector at Victoria Station and headed to Marylebone High Street for a training day. There are a lot more women than men working in charities and today's gender profile was no exception - 5 entries out of 16. Took the opportunity while the policy manager was doing his thing to take a closer look at the gentlemen of the non-profit world. Two were late 30s-40s, slender, earnest, close cropped hair, glasses, jumper-over-shirt wearers with an almost trendy urban feel including man bags and loafers, . Two were 50+, vocal, pastel jumpers, very-to-extremely portly, with flowing rumpled white hair and beards and a future playing Santa Claus at church functions. Two matching pairs. The 5th was a kind of hybrid.

Which set me to thinking - what sort of stereotype am I? 40. Single (since split with D 18 months ago). Blonde (with assistance of Shelly and co - thank you ladies). Female (a constant). Dog lover (ditto). Recent yoga convert (borderline obsessive). Writer (sporadic).

Middle Aged Blonde Lady Woman perhaps? MABLaW for short.

Arrived home to find a book I'd ordered from Amazon had arrived (hooray!). And that my first ever payment for public lending rights is on its way (wonderfully, writers get a few pee each time one of their books is borrowed from a library, which is added up and paid annually). The money's extremely welcome of course, but it's amazing knowing that nearly 1,700 people borrowed my book from a library. Wow!

Patted self on back for progress on resolution pages today. Can report with pleasure that:

• Did not buy coffee / pastries / other delicious temptations from stalls and shops on the station and elsewhere whilst in London. Although this was much aided by the provision of substantial and delightful lunch at training day (3 helpings)
• Read most of the way there and back - started "Sidetracked" by Henning Mankell (which Rhona bought me for Christmas). Am loving it!

So a good day. Yes, a very good day.