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Liz Jones

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which my ex wants to, gulp, see me

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It’s strange, conducting a new(ish) flirtation entirely over the internet. Preferable, in many ways. If he’s annoying, you can just switch him off, blaming...

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which I decide I want my ex back

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Let’s look at the old scoreboard, shall we? Since becoming single, I have been pursued by: P – he who threw a strop when...

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which I list the things I’ve lost

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I know we’re not supposed to be materialistic, but I’m afraid I am. As much as I love my animals, there are a few...

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which I realise I have been loved

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I have to tell you about Valentine’s Day. A card arrived in the post. It was blank with no message at all. It came...

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which I’m ghosted by the New Man

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Last week, I wrote how the New Man – you know, the sane one, with a house, own business, son at university, has heard...

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which the New Man gets spooked

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Oh. Dear. God. You know how I wrote that I am finally, FINALLY happy? That I have a lovely, sane New Man on the...

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which there’s yet another new man

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Oh dear. I’ve just attempted to dye my hair at home now the weather has warmed up and I’m no longer in a Benny from...

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which a photo (nearly) reveals all

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I woke this morning to six inches of deep snow, so I took a photograph of the view from my office window: the ruins...

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which I realise I’m actually happy

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Someone keeps sending me gifts. Dog toys, mostly. Something they gnaw on to clean their teeth. Flashing lights for their collars. It can’t be...

Liz Jones’s Diary: In which I learn an important lesson

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The man who says he’s in love with me, despite never having met me, continued to send long emails. Each one had its own...

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