24 October, 2008

Big Move

Great long pause in blogging is because we have finally moved house and so we are bereft of internet. Because of course back here in Edwardian Britain you cannot expect to move your internet seamlessly from one dwellingplace to another. In fact, you cannot even expect your phone line to move seamlessly from one dwelling to another. No, that would entail your NOT USING BRITISH TELECOMS, which is impossible to do. Even if you get your line rental from another company, if you move house, you have to move your line rental back to BT, then sit with them for another 12 months – unless you want to pay £75 for breaking the 12 month contract – and then move your line rental and broadband package back to whatever hopeless broadband package provider you were originally with. Because they are all hopeless. Come back, Hong Kong, beautiful wired island of the liberated electronic future – all is forgiven!

Our house is beautiful and our saddo Ikea furniture looks even sadder in it, but now we have no money to buy better furniture. We spent this month’s portion on a new Bosch tumbledryer, because the old dryer that was left in the house was like the prototype of a dryer that someone designed in, oh, say, 1850, and mocked up in the hope that some day the technology would be created that would actually make it work. It is in every way dryer-like, except that when you put your clothes in and press the Start button, your clothes do not get dry. In fact nothing happens, except that the room gets a little warmer from the energy you expend venting your feelings on the subject of outmoded dryer technology.

Bought the new one online from the Coop and, get this: we ordered it on Monday and it arrived on Tuesday, earlier than the time they said they would deliver it. I’m stunned. Efficient effective service. What is this? I don’t understand. It has shaken my worldview.

There is so much to be done. Luckily it is kids’ half-term next week so I have the week off. Unfortunately, we are off to Porto tomorrow with little sis – which will be lovely, but I am dying to get the house more sorted.

News seems to have spread around the school playground like wildfire that we have finally moved. Total strangers are coming up to LSS in the playground and commiserating with him re how difficult it is to heat big rooms with high ceilings and those huge Georgian windows – ha ha ha! – even though he has never said anything to them about the house. But somehow everyone knows which one it is. A primary school playground is a very small place.

06 October, 2008


I'm looking for a hairsalon that doesn't charge GBP65 a pop to cut my hair. Peering into the local dives, they seem mainly to cater for the black population. Do you think they would be any good at thick straight Chinese hair? I ask LSS. Well, I'm sure they'd have a bash at it, says he, in the manner of someone who pays GBP8 for his haircut at Tony's of Bedford Hill.

My problem is anyone who's ever cut my hair has engaged with it in a similar spirit of enthusiastic amateur can-do-ism: "Well, madam, we are primarily a kebab shop, but I'm sure we can do something for you - Abdul, the electric carving knife, please!"

01 October, 2008

Weird Shocks

Karaoke night for Little Squish's birthday last night. It was the first time I've ever done karaoke and it was excellent. I was a bit worried at first that I would come over all shy, but had not factored in that I would be there with a whole bunch of British people. I mean, I thought I was reserved - but I am nowhere compared to the British. Either that or there is some kind of exhibitionist gene in our family which allows even staid bankers to stand up and sing tunelessly to songs that they don't know very well, without batting an eyelid. Then the sister's even more exhibitionist drama school chums turned up and the rest of the Brits caved and ended up happily singing along to YMCA and Don't Stop Me Now, like everyone else.

Shock of the evening - I put on Heroes and it got skipped out of the playlist because NO ONE ELSE KNEW IT. How can they not know Heroes, for God's sake? I mean how young are they? Or rather, how old am I?!

Another weird shock. There were some chaps behind me in the lift lobby the other day speaking German and it gave me a strange erotic thrill. I have never before liked the German language. I tried to learn it once at school and I just couldn't get with it. Every time I looked in the textbook at all the cheery German dialogue, saying Thank you and Please and How much is a cup of coffee? I could not help thinking, I bet you weren't this friendly when you were throwing the Jews on the fires forty years ago. And now, thirty years later, I'm finding German sexy? What's wrong with me? Am I a masochist? Do I get off on power and domination? Am I going to end up like something out of Night Porter? Or is it just the time of the month when I find absolutely anything sexy (could be).

I took a look at the 3 blokes when I got onto the lift. They were not sexy. Still, made a mental note to watch Downfall again. What's wrong with me?!