Clouds really do have silver linings

Today started abominably. Many many much too many late nights and far too much drinking-imbibing-consuming of the Alcoholic Liquids is truly starting to take its toll. The mirror reflects a wrung out rag. Tired and grumpy, accompanied by a raspy voice and thick head, I managed to make my way to the kitchen for some tea. I thought I should eat something too and decided at this point to be sensible and have some Scott's Porage Oats. With raisins. Good Wholesome Food for Soaked Livers. I sat at the table watching the squirrels; chewing carefully and swallowing slowly and planning my trip back Up the Stairs to the Good Place Beneath the Duvet. Enter Scottish Housemate. I have no recollection of how I ended up participating in the planning of a Roast Dinner and a Trip To The Shops. Well and truly roped in, I was forced to abandon warm and cozy bed thoughts in favour of a hot shower and the task of Getting Dressed.

Let me skip to the best bit. Alannah, this Primark. Primark, this is Alannah. Never have I been so thrilled to bits with a bargain. A few coins for like a zillion pairs of knickers, Ally McBeal clouds-all-over pyjamas, and Other Pyjamas and Stuff. Throw in a handbag and glittery belt and call me Pleased as Punch. The roast was rather good too. And, inadditiontoaswellas&also, I have the day off tomorrow so I can Recover Properly.

Fortnums, Stansted, Langoustine

What do those three have in common? My Christmas in Brittany! I decided. Not a very hard decision it has to be said. My flights are booked, my luggage is to be checked at £7 per piece and my arms are to be full of my gift for the French family. I thought a very English hamper from Fortnums would do the trick.

That leaves the langoustine. Now, this one deserves some discourse. In the past when I have had houseguests or indeed been a houseguest, the question one asks and gets asked is something like "what don't you eat?". Or if you had a menu in mind "do you eat such and such?" Such and such usually being brussel sprouts (no) or cranberry sauce (yes). This must be the first time that I have been asked if I will eat langoustine! Sadly, the answer is no. What! you cry in disbelief. It's true. Tuna and cod is my fishy lot. I'm a food Philistine, I know. But I'm going to France for Christmas, so there.

Write it down: my favourite song lyrics

:)I may have mentioned before: I love music. This is the place where I will write down any song lyrics that have an impact on me, not ones that run round in my head, those annoying ones you can't get rid of, but the ones where I know, just know, that actually it was me who wrote them. They, those artisty musically musical people, sucked them from my brain and put them to a tune. Some of them are meaningful sentences (to me obviously), some are just words that I think are nicely strung together...or uniquely descriptive...or funny. I'll put a link on the sidebar for continuous updating.

Ani Difranco (Adam and Eve) - "So I let go of the ratio of things said to things heard, and I leave you to your garden and the beauty you preferred."
Arcade Fire
(Neighbourhood #1 Tunnels) - ...then I'll dig a tunnel, from my window to yours."
(Crown of Love) - "Your name is the only word that I can say..."
The Bravery (Give In) - "All I want is everything."
Charlies Amp (Lights in LA) - "...it's staying out 'til 3 with people that excite me."
Cooper Temple Clause (Waiting Game) - "...I promise I never meant to turn you away. Why did you trust me with your heart?"
Counting Crows (A Long December) - "All at once you look across a crowded room to see the way that light attaches to a girl."
The Cure (Just Like Heaven) - "I kissed her face and kissed her head and dreamed of all the different ways I had to make her grow."
Feist
(Mushaboom) - "It may be years until the day, my dreams will match up with my pay."
(1243) - "Sweet heart, bitter heart, now I can't tell you apart."
The Fratellis
(Cuntry Boys and City Girls) - "I love the way you city girls dress, even when your head's in a mess."
(Whistle For the Choir) - "So if you're crazy, I don't care, you amaze me."
Guillemots (Annie, Let's Not Wait) - "I found something crying; it was my soul."
Interpol
(NYC) -"It's up to me now, turn on the bright lights."
(NYC) - "I had seven faces; thought I knew which one to wear, but I'm sick of spending these lonely nights training myself not to care."
The Killers
(Sam's Town) - "I know that I can make it as long as somebody takes me home, every now and then."
(Read my Mind) - "...with magic soaking my spine."
Neko Case (Hold On, Hold On) - "I leave the party at three a.m., alone, thank God."
The Ordinary Boys (Talk Talk Talk) - "Tell me all your secrets, I'll never tell you mine."
The Psychedelic Furs (Pretty in Pink) - "The one who insists he is first in the line is the last to remember her name."
Puggy (Sorry) - "Sorry you didn't notice what this meant."
R.E.M.
(All the Way to Reno) - "Your Achilles heel is a tendency to dream."
(Aftermath) - "And you've worked it out, and you see it all, and you want to shout how you see it all."
(Leaving New York) - "It's easier to leave than to be left behind."
Roddy Woomble (My Secret is My Silence) - "You approach land without a harbour to find your way home."
The Shins (Phantom Limb)
"Follow the lines and wonder why there's no connection."
"This town seems hardly worth our time."
Stereophonics (Hurry Up and Wait) - "Wait to get there, and when we get there, we wait around for anyone to tell us what we even got there for."

A nice warm feeling

Today I was invited to France for Christmas. I was lamenting the fact that I was sans family for the first time in many a year (OK, ever) and that I would be the only housemate without somewhere to go for the usual celebrations. Woe is me. And that's when My French Friend said, "Let me ask my mum, then you can come to France with me and spend Christmas with my family." How nice is that? How nice I ask you? There is one small issue I see in this arrangement. She is the only one in her family who speaks English. Problem. Sign language is an option...or at least enthusiastic gesticulating, like some earnest form of Charades...

But France for Christmas. v. intr. pon-der-ing.

We just didn’t connect

Today I wandered the street called Oxford in search of what I thought was a pretty simple request. I’ve read about it, I’ve heard about it, but I’ll be damned if I can find it. A data card: laptop internet connection through my mobile phone. Quick explanation: I’ve moved into my new houseshare (love love love) but we have yet to install wireless broadband. Now, it must be stated as a fact that the internet is essential to my being and I get [insert Latin name here] a.k.a. “the shakes” without it. This posting is quite a naughty one because I’ve hopped onto an unsecured wireless network. What? It’s a medical emergency(ish). Thank you whoever you are.

I was saying. I visited all of the mobile phone shops up the street and down. Whilst every single one was able to offer me a data card on a 12 month contract, only one (brightly coloured one) was able to offer me one without – but I could only get it online! How funny is that? I’m looking to get an internet connection and the only way I can get it is online.

One sales advisor at one of the major mobile phone providers, who I have always regarded highly (the provider not the advisor), informed me that although I was able to get what I was looking for, it wasn’t there, and what’s more he refused to tell where I could get it.

Here’s to piggybacking (but just until I get my own). Thank you.

Putain!

I've had such a sh*t day at work, it deserves its very own posting. That's it, that's all I'm going to say about it, lest I get fired.

Could it be, could it be?

1 x 4-bed house. Check.
3 x friendly housemates. Check.
1 x lovely street. Check.
1 x awesome bedroom. Check.
With en-suite. Check.

Woo hoo! Almost there. To do:

1. Meet landlord.
2. Sign tenancy agreement.
3. Move in.

Easy as 1,2,3? Let's hope so! I do so deserve it.

The beat goes on

I'm back onto my flatshare saga. It's ongoing. Yesterday it appeared to be moving in a good direction. The fabulous Gumtree brought together a whole bunch of seemingly like-minded people looking for a decent place to live at a reasonable price. Outcome? The search begins for a 4-5 bedroom house. At this time of year? Apparently not. 4-5 bedroom houses seem to be very scarce "at this time of year". Why? Students, that's why. They've swarmed the streets of Clapham and nicked the lot of them. Where does that leave us (read: me)? Frustrated. I have the means, I just don't have the end. And I was so hoping to move by the weekend.

Couples. Couples everywhere.

People I know have started inviting me out with them and their friends now that I am Single. I suppose previously they thought that the marital state would mean I already had plans...Nevertheless, it's very thoughtful and I am pleased to be invited and pleased to accept.

There is just one thing that has reared its inconsiderate supremely unattractive head recently and I am finding it very difficult to cope with, particularly when arranging to meet up somewhere public, such as a tube station. Places where Other People arrange to meet up too. Suddenly it seems to me that everyone in London is in a relationship of some sort. Every which way I turn, couples all over the place. Meeting up, going home, kissing, hugging, laughing. Fuckers. I barely lasted until midnight before I finally had to acknowledge my utter misery. My mood crashed and shattered on the floor of the Ha! Ha! Bar. I turned my back on it and went straight home.

There was one highlight of the evening. I learned a new swear word. Putain. Look it up. (Clue: it's French)

Hunting (High and Low)

So it's been a bit since I placed my Pick Me ad for a flat-share so it's time for a progress update.

The Scorecard:
5+ stars = When can I move in (assuming you want me to)?
Double stars for “I like the way you think”
Double negatives for “wrong on so many levels”

Flat 1
Who: Two boys; one girl.
For: I was offered coffee; it’s near to the gym; I know the area well (3 stars)
Against: a lorra lorra stairs (double negative); a dubious snow globe collection (double negative) (-4 stars)
The room: good enough (1 star)
Verdict: 0 stars = No

Flat 2
Who: Two girls.
For: very friendly; they shared their wine with me (double stars) (3 stars)
Against: loud talking, talking very loud make it stop; they gave me an up-down look at the door (double negative); don’t like that particular street = (-4 stars)
The room: good enough (1 star)
Verdict: 0 stars = No

Flat 3 (actually more of a house)
Who: Two girls; two boys.
For: I got lost and one of the boys came to find me, how nice is that? (double stars); really lovely people (3 stars)
Against: living with a couple (double negative); very narrow poky house; busy, noisy area with some dodginess within my peripheral vision = (-4 stars)
The room: not great (0 stars)
Verdict: -1 star = No

What have I learned? In no particular order…
1) Don’t go for places where the rent is suspiciously cheaper.
2) Don’t go even if they say “we’re not a couply-couple”.
3) Don’t ask about the snow globes. Trust me.

Will the rest of the week and weekend brings more treats of this ilk?…I remain surprisingly hopeful that I am close, so close.

So Low

I have a tick. Not the bloodsucking variety, but the variety that you develop in order to cope with some particular stressful circumstance. I recognised my tick today, tipped my hat to it, when I connected two unrelated events and leapt wildly to the conclusion that mine is in fact a bona fide tick.

First someone said: "You're very attached to your iPod of late, aren't you?" I looked up at him, and askance (he's very tall you see, and he was standing to my left) and said something brilliant like "Am I?"

And then a bit later while I was making tea or something equally mundane, I had a rare-but-becoming-more-common-yet-perfectly-understandable-given-my-personal-circumstances mood crash...and the first thing I did when I got back to my desk was select a playlist, pop the little white pips into my ears and sink into it.

Music, my drug.

Would you live with me?

I placed an ad today on one of those free online looking-for-a-room sites.

I spent some pencil-chewing time thinking about how to present myself and what I am looking for. It was harderer than I thought it would be. I started with some lovely descriptive words and strung those together with some sturdy joining words, then I sprinkled in some very sensible words for balance and weaved a magical piece of prose. OK, it was legible and that was good enough I thought, so I pressed Post My Ad Now! (or summat like that).

So proud was I of my published accomplishment that I promptly whizzed the URL to my friend in a show of look-at-me-so-independent-already. She replied immediately-

"Erm, are you sure? I don't really think you should put the word "bedroom" in the same sentence as the word "socialise"...Wrong impression, know what I mean?"

"Urggh, that's gross," I replied with vigourously executed disgustinged-faces.

"...and perhaps you shouldn't use the word "fun" either. You'll attract party animals."

"Oh, boy, we can't be having any animals a-partying in my home, verily no!"

"So, try again and send it to me before you post it, OK?"

She may as well have patted me on the head and gone poor, poor you, whatever is going to become of you in the great bigedness of the world.

She's right of course, I have no idea what I'm doing. So this is the ad, eventually posted after much wordsmithery:

I am looking for a friendly household with a decent size room where I can relax. I am 30 years old, easy going, love music, reading and the internet (wireless broadband would be good). A glass of wine and a chat is also a good idea from time to time. A good shower is important! I am reliable and consistent and I pay the bills on time.

Form an orderly line please! As if. Not one response yet.

Thank you, Anna Pickard

Sunday started like every Sunday has started for...well for some time now. Eyes open at 7a.m. Que? On the weekend? On goes the iPod, which is next to my bed within half-awake-fumbling reach (thank you Logitech® Portable Speakers for iPod). I get up, go to the loo, make a cup of coffee, get back into bed, lie there for a while listening to my tunes with my coffee resting warmly on my bosom. Then I snooze a bit and am woken by my stomach grumbling something about being woken up at the dawn of time yet still waiting for a feeding. So I get up again and make some toast and some tea.

Today's toast topping: peanut butter sprinkled with pumpkin seeds. I recommend it, it's too tasty.

I take my feast back to bed and boot up my laptop for some surfing, some Myspacing and some emailing. Same old same.

So there I am, toast'd and tea'd, writing an email to someone ("someone" is said with gravitas) and it's a difficult email and I'm still not sure if I will send it. I want to put in a quote from the the Wizard of Oz and I wanted to make sure I had it right so I Googled it. The first listing is how I found Anna's Little Red Boat.

Her blog distracted me from the task at hand (probably a good thing) and I have just spent the last hour wiping tears from my cheeks. Tears of laughter you'll be pleased to hear. It's the best thing that could have happened to me this very Sunday. Very funny. Did I mention she's funny? It's just what I needed. So, thank you Anna Pickard for making my day. Punk. I haven't laughed like that for such a long time. (The kind of laugh where no sound comes out and then you snort like a pig - the best!)

Flatshare Virgin

And so it has come to pass that I find myself looking for a room to rent. What qualities ensure you'll make and/or find a good flatmate? Do I live with boys, do I live with girls? Do I choose somewhere new, do I stick with what I know? What if I hate it? What if they hate me? This is all new to me. Almost thirty-something and starting what is essentially a new life. But, I keep telling myself in a stern voice, I love change, remember. (See Born Under a Wandering Star). I'll be fine.

Everything's changing

Another Friday night at home. Surfing, watching TV, blogging, updating MySpace and downloading music. I can't tell you how many of my Friday nights look like this. (Last Friday and the Friday before: exceptions). Having said that, tonight does feel different, like a temporary state. I just know that this is not what my future looks like.

London Bridge American-Style

Let me sum up yesterday in three words: I love London.

I took An American Colleague sightseeing and we had such a great day. Both nursing sore heads from the night before, we set off at noon with a Starbucks and a double chocolate muffin and just walked. The weather was awesome and we had no real plan. From Trafalgar Square to Bankside and all the way around again.

She was so looking forward to seeing London Bridge, and knowing full well she was mistaking one bridge for the other, I played along and took her to London Bridge. She looked at me incredulously and said that it didn't look like the pictures! I thought about spinning a yarn but one look at the glorious Tower Bridge behind her silenced me and I just pointed and smiled.

Free bar

Something monumental happened this weekend. I'm trying to imply by the title that alcohol was responsible for it, but I honestly don't think it was. It helped, yes. I can't describe what I am feeling. Perhaps it can be called Possibility?

All I know for sure is that decisions have to be made.

On the box

I was dragged kicking and screaming to John Lewis today. It wasn't the journey I objected to...I love taking the number 6 to Oxford Street (no really, I mean it); it was the purpose of the excursion that I objected to so vehemently. End goal: digital TV aka Freeview. Yeuch. Who needs 40 channels when 5 do the job just fine?

Like the iPod revolution, I swore I would never, ever be converted. (I now own a little black nano which I carry with me everywhere. See Pod Person).

Anyway. The little silver box was purchased, taken home, and connected. It didn't take long; before I knew it, I was scheduling my programs and ooohing and aaahing over the selection of channels. Disgraceful. I have again lost the battle against "things I do not need to be happy". How fickle am I?

The Superkings

This is not intended to be a blog about bands, but here is another one worth a listen. They have a more rocking sound. I'm totally addicted to one of their songs found on Overplay. It's called Legend of Three Guitar Men.

The Superkings are Lancashire-based and have a number of profiles on the web, including a MySpace page.

Could you?

Well, I thought I could, but I was unceremoniously informed that simply being an upstanding-citizen-and-all-round-good-person is not enough to join this particular police volunteer program. I was prepared, willing and able to give up all my spare time to do my bit. Psyched even. I filled in the form with serious thought and consideration, lined up the appropriate referees, and waited in anticipation for the acceptance letter and details of my first assignment. Alas, when I received the letter, it was to tell me that I had to have been living in the UK for 3 years to even be considered. When I queried it, no one was able to provide me with an explanation as to why. "Those are the rules." Apparently.