I am a British woman in my 30s.
I spent a lot of the last ten years living and working in Russia. Moscow, to be specific. I am married to a Russian. No, he doesn’t own any football teams. Or drink vodka for breakfast.
I was born and raised in a small town outside London. It was the prototype for Milton Keynes. This means it’s a New Town built on the enlightened social and architectural principles of the fifties and sixties. Which is quite as horrifying as it sounds. Now I live in London. My husband, the Moscovite, refuses to acknowledge there is life outside the capital of any given country. We have bought a flat in the one and only street in London which resembles my home town.
I studied History at university. So obviously I taught English (as a foreign language) for the next ten years or so. Well, I used to teach, then I managed teachers, and then I trained them.
I was supposed to be retraining as a secondary school teacher.
This process has been slightly interrupted by the fact that I am now a Mummy. Or possibly a Mommy. My First Born, aka the Star, was born in June 2008.
In my free time, in the days when I had free time, I mostly watched TV. And worried that I watched too much TV.
Now I just worry that the Star watches too much TV.