My father just called to ask me where I went to University.
I'm really starting to worry about those two...
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Seriously?
The other day my mother called to ask if I was in the office.
At 10.30am.
On a Wednesday.
Honestly, I have no idea what she thinks I do for a living...
At 10.30am.
On a Wednesday.
Honestly, I have no idea what she thinks I do for a living...
Thursday, March 05, 2009
It's that time of the month...
The flat downstairs appears to be ready and on the market - and cheaper than ours for some reason we haven't yet worked out. In addition, our annual rent review is apparently coming up in April, which Gareth has hinted might have some impact on whether we continue in the flat or not.
As we're now in the sixth month I've been in this flat, the ominous timing (and potential implications) of these revelations has not escaped me.
As we're now in the sixth month I've been in this flat, the ominous timing (and potential implications) of these revelations has not escaped me.
Friday, February 27, 2009
A-list?
Forgot to mention my first decent celebrity spot since my London period began:
- Guy Ritchie swigging beer at The Punchbowl in Mayfair
Some might say seeing a celeb at a pub they own is no real achievement. These people should keep their unwanted opinions to themselves.
Whistlestop tours
What a busy last few weeks it has been.
After several varied attempts to deliver one of our new Billy bookshelves (I say one since we ordered three - our excesses know no bounds), I had little or no faith in IKEA successfully negotiating the delivery of the new sofa. And yet, somehow they did - even managing to get here during the specified delivery window. Bizarre. Anyway, new sofa all sorted. Now my Sauron-like eye turns to other things, viz. a new dining table. (Is this when you know you're old? When your wishlist veers away from shoes, entertainment and frivolity to furniture and homewares?) Gareth thinks I'm kidding when I speak of more new furniture - he little knows the true horrors that lurk within my catalogue-perusing soul.
The last week or so saw me fleeing the English countryside for warmer climes as I paid a brief but fruitful visit to the motherland and the sandlands. Three days in Chennai were filled with watching baby cousin Diya dancing like Flag Hippo, a dramatic bit of food poisoning, picking out lighting fixtures and attending a religious ceremony at my parents' new flat which involved circling around an indoor fire comprising of twigs and dried cow dung. Yes, an indoor fire.
The sandlands were simultaneously just as I left them and completely different than I remember. As always the roads have changed, there are innumerable new buildings and the new dedicated Emirates terminal has opened at the airport - all very big and shiny and new (natch) but with just a touch too much of the great hall with all the columns under the mountains of Moria in LOTR for my taste. Still, hurrah for getting hair and nails done, catching up with good friends and, of course, shawarmas.
Must make special mention here of the girl behind the counter at McDonalds in Jumeirah who spent longer telling me that getting a cheeseburger with no pickles would take more time than a regular one that was already made than she did actually considering that she was wasting more time having the conversation than just placing my order and getting on with it. When I ask for better customer service, this is not what I mean.
Still, visits to Dubai always serve to highlight to me just how right I was to move away when I did. What seemed like a bit of an irrational and not fully-formed plan at the time has worked out for the best in so many ways - stressful though it has been at times - and I am grateful for having had whatever sense I did that made me make the leap into the unknown. While the city remains a nice place to pop by every so often, it feels less like 'home' every time - even less likely to feel so once the few remaining people I know there move away, as they inevitably all will. Cue a long and varied debate on the nature of growing up as an expat and the sense of inherent homelessness it engenders.
Anyhoo, back in sunny England now, with the wedding approaching ever closer and a mild sense of panic setting in that I have to turn 29 before then.
After several varied attempts to deliver one of our new Billy bookshelves (I say one since we ordered three - our excesses know no bounds), I had little or no faith in IKEA successfully negotiating the delivery of the new sofa. And yet, somehow they did - even managing to get here during the specified delivery window. Bizarre. Anyway, new sofa all sorted. Now my Sauron-like eye turns to other things, viz. a new dining table. (Is this when you know you're old? When your wishlist veers away from shoes, entertainment and frivolity to furniture and homewares?) Gareth thinks I'm kidding when I speak of more new furniture - he little knows the true horrors that lurk within my catalogue-perusing soul.
The last week or so saw me fleeing the English countryside for warmer climes as I paid a brief but fruitful visit to the motherland and the sandlands. Three days in Chennai were filled with watching baby cousin Diya dancing like Flag Hippo, a dramatic bit of food poisoning, picking out lighting fixtures and attending a religious ceremony at my parents' new flat which involved circling around an indoor fire comprising of twigs and dried cow dung. Yes, an indoor fire.
The sandlands were simultaneously just as I left them and completely different than I remember. As always the roads have changed, there are innumerable new buildings and the new dedicated Emirates terminal has opened at the airport - all very big and shiny and new (natch) but with just a touch too much of the great hall with all the columns under the mountains of Moria in LOTR for my taste. Still, hurrah for getting hair and nails done, catching up with good friends and, of course, shawarmas.
Must make special mention here of the girl behind the counter at McDonalds in Jumeirah who spent longer telling me that getting a cheeseburger with no pickles would take more time than a regular one that was already made than she did actually considering that she was wasting more time having the conversation than just placing my order and getting on with it. When I ask for better customer service, this is not what I mean.
Still, visits to Dubai always serve to highlight to me just how right I was to move away when I did. What seemed like a bit of an irrational and not fully-formed plan at the time has worked out for the best in so many ways - stressful though it has been at times - and I am grateful for having had whatever sense I did that made me make the leap into the unknown. While the city remains a nice place to pop by every so often, it feels less like 'home' every time - even less likely to feel so once the few remaining people I know there move away, as they inevitably all will. Cue a long and varied debate on the nature of growing up as an expat and the sense of inherent homelessness it engenders.
Anyhoo, back in sunny England now, with the wedding approaching ever closer and a mild sense of panic setting in that I have to turn 29 before then.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
White Monday
An unexpectedly long weekend, thanks to 8 inches of snow on Sunday night, which ground the whole city of London to a halt on Monday. I was pretty effectively stranded at home for the day seeing as buses, Underground lines and trains had stopped running and I require all three to get to work.
Still, a nice unexpected day at home, consisting of hot beverages, a walk to the park, being snowballed by delinquent teenagers, the start of Season 2 of the Sopranos - oh yes and a bit of remote working.
Over the weekend I received not one but two cookbooks so Saturday was spent proving that I can cook as well as anyone with the letters n,i,g,e and l in their name. Made Nigel Slater's Potato & Mushroom Pie (which turned out to not be pie at all) and Nigella Lawson's New York Cheesecake. (The capital letters are meant to reflect how much time and effort this recipe-following involved - mostly in sourcing ingredients and a suitably sized springform cake tin.)
After expressing mutual disinterest in schlepping out to IKEA on a Saturday, Gareth and I decided not to get a new sofa after all. On Sunday we ordered one online. It arrives on the 14th.
Still, a nice unexpected day at home, consisting of hot beverages, a walk to the park, being snowballed by delinquent teenagers, the start of Season 2 of the Sopranos - oh yes and a bit of remote working.
Over the weekend I received not one but two cookbooks so Saturday was spent proving that I can cook as well as anyone with the letters n,i,g,e and l in their name. Made Nigel Slater's Potato & Mushroom Pie (which turned out to not be pie at all) and Nigella Lawson's New York Cheesecake. (The capital letters are meant to reflect how much time and effort this recipe-following involved - mostly in sourcing ingredients and a suitably sized springform cake tin.)
After expressing mutual disinterest in schlepping out to IKEA on a Saturday, Gareth and I decided not to get a new sofa after all. On Sunday we ordered one online. It arrives on the 14th.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Bewilderness
Talked to my mother last night. Told her my plan for the weekend was to buy a sofa. To which her response, verbatim, was 'but wouldn't you rather have a laptop?'.
As yet, I am unable to work out how or why these two objects would be considered interchangeable substitutes for each other.
As yet, I am unable to work out how or why these two objects would be considered interchangeable substitutes for each other.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
So, 2009 eh?
Looks like I've left it too long to comment in any useful way on the changing of the year, death of the old, rise of the new etc. Suffice it to say I have spent much of this year cold and hungry and my prospects for that changing any time soon seem slim to none. On the plus side, I still have a job and I haven't moved house. Yet.
Claude is still looking ill - he has developed a worrying new symptom which sees him floating near the top of the bowl and puffing in a strained fashion. Am trying another dose of the medicinal drops as prescribed by the lady in the piscine emporium but am unsure how to proceed if that doesn't work...
Pre-ordered the new Bruce album last week and it's STILL NOT HERE. You have let me down, Play.com. The effects of this dastardly behaviour on our otherwise strong relationship remain to be seen...
Books I've read so far in 2009:
On a more cheery note, he posed the question last night of which celebrities we should cast in a live action remake of the Cluedo boardgame (or Clue, to my American readers who did not have Ludo as children and thus were denied one of Life's simple pleasures. Along with Snakes & Ladders - I have not the words to describe how contemptible I think their cop out Chutes & Ladders version is). So far I've got:
Claude is still looking ill - he has developed a worrying new symptom which sees him floating near the top of the bowl and puffing in a strained fashion. Am trying another dose of the medicinal drops as prescribed by the lady in the piscine emporium but am unsure how to proceed if that doesn't work...
Pre-ordered the new Bruce album last week and it's STILL NOT HERE. You have let me down, Play.com. The effects of this dastardly behaviour on our otherwise strong relationship remain to be seen...
Books I've read so far in 2009:
- Dreams From My Father - Barack Obama - v good
- The God Delusion - Richard Dawkins - v interesting for the most part. Gratifying to see I was and am not deluded although this did deny me any kind of eye-opening or life-affirming experiences
- Dawn Of The Dumb - Charlie Brooker - painfully vitriolic but v funny for the most part. Sets the bar for the kind of writer I wish I was brave and smart enough to be
On a more cheery note, he posed the question last night of which celebrities we should cast in a live action remake of the Cluedo boardgame (or Clue, to my American readers who did not have Ludo as children and thus were denied one of Life's simple pleasures. Along with Snakes & Ladders - I have not the words to describe how contemptible I think their cop out Chutes & Ladders version is). So far I've got:
- Mrs White - Dawn French
- Professor Plum - Stephen Fry
- Colonel Mustard - Bill Nighy
- Mrs Peacock - Cate Blanchett
- Miss Scarlet - Angelina Jolie (Gareth had Nigella Lawson down for this one, presumably because he fancies her. That was his game, this is mine and I decline to let Nigella's unspeakably smug mug anywhere near it)
Which leaves only Reverend Green remaining - I'm toying with the idea of Rob Brydon but am open to suggestion. Thoughts and comments to the usual address please.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Do vets treat fish?
Piscine emergency this weekend.
Returned home from a haircut (which subsequently did not get noticed much amongst the drama) to the news that Claude was swimming oddly and had an unpleasant looking red gash by one of his gills.
After careful observation (and the passing thought that staring into fishbowls on a Saturday afternoon was not the ideal way to spend what precious little is left of my twenties), a telephone consultation with Mr Kenny (he who knows about fish) and suitable documentation (photos of injury and video of unusual swimming motion), I wandered down to the fish emporium in Crystal Palace to secure suitable medication i.e. disturbingly-coloured stuff that gets measured out in drops per gallon of water or something equally precise that I didn't really follow. While there I also (finally) discovered what species the twins are - Calico Fantails for anyone who's interested.
As of yesterday the odd swimming seems to have abated but the red gash is only minimally improved. I fear the danger is not yet fully past.
Returned home from a haircut (which subsequently did not get noticed much amongst the drama) to the news that Claude was swimming oddly and had an unpleasant looking red gash by one of his gills.
After careful observation (and the passing thought that staring into fishbowls on a Saturday afternoon was not the ideal way to spend what precious little is left of my twenties), a telephone consultation with Mr Kenny (he who knows about fish) and suitable documentation (photos of injury and video of unusual swimming motion), I wandered down to the fish emporium in Crystal Palace to secure suitable medication i.e. disturbingly-coloured stuff that gets measured out in drops per gallon of water or something equally precise that I didn't really follow. While there I also (finally) discovered what species the twins are - Calico Fantails for anyone who's interested.
As of yesterday the odd swimming seems to have abated but the red gash is only minimally improved. I fear the danger is not yet fully past.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
X-Men 4; The Wrath of Lakshmi
Tried telling the boys at work about my potential magnetic/radioactive superpower. They were not supportive at all, reacting mostly by laughing derisively and suggesting that time probably just seems slower around me since my stories are long and dull.
The fools will pay for their insolence. When my powers reach full strength, they'll be the first ones I vaporise.
The fools will pay for their insolence. When my powers reach full strength, they'll be the first ones I vaporise.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Retail therapy?
While I know I have a varied, diverse and generally interesting personality, I thought a list of my material purchases from the last week or so might provide Lakshmi-novices with valuable insight into just what they're getting for their money:
- Brown leather Coccinelle handbag (was on sale, how could I say no?)
- Disturbed's latest album (annihilation will be unavoidable)
- 11 P.G. Wodehouse books (10 Penguin edition, 1 Vintage)
- A Terry's Chocolate Orange (round, but not round for long)
- Seasons 3 and 4 of Entourage
- Travel insurance (despite no solid plans for any trips in the near future)
- Clean Cotton scented Yankee Doodle candle (went out, meant to buy lunch, bought a candle instead. As you do.)
- Greatest Hits of Erasure CD
Try as I might, I can't discern a pattern...
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
We are the champions
Went to (and won) pub quiz at the Commercial last night - leaving my Herne Hill pub quizzing record at an unblemished 100%.
Very gratifying to win, despite the relatively meagre prize, but very disturbing to note that my only real contribution towards our success was knowledge of bad 90's music - I correctly identified a Peter Andre song (can't believe I just admitted that in writing) and knew what country Ace of Base were from.
The shame of it.
Very gratifying to win, despite the relatively meagre prize, but very disturbing to note that my only real contribution towards our success was knowledge of bad 90's music - I correctly identified a Peter Andre song (can't believe I just admitted that in writing) and knew what country Ace of Base were from.
The shame of it.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Celebrity spots in London so far
- Lucy Liu at the Rodin exhibition at the Royal Academy of Art, looking at sculptures and being accompanied by a very tall man. As all very short women inevitably are
- Howard from Take That at the Hospital member's club in Covent Garden, looking for the bar. Presumably to drown his sorrows, as Take That had not had their renaissance yet and he was, at that time, just another washed-up ex-member of a 90's boyband
- Laura something or other who is currently one of the favourites on this year's X Factor* walking down the street in Covent Garden. Until and unless she wins and actually goes on to have a singing career, we might have to award her only temporary/pseudo/British-standard** celebrity status for now
- Sir Derek Jacobi buying some sort of unidentifiable thingummy at a special effects/theatrical make-up shop in Covent Garden.
Looks like Covent Garden is a clear winner for potential celebrity activity but think the quality or at least recognisability of the contenders could do with some improvement...
*Singing-based reality TV contest, similar to Pop Idol, American Idol and countless others, to which I am hopelessly addicted against my will
**It doesn't take much to become famous in Britain. Really it doesn't.
YES WE CAN!
What a momentous week this has been for world history - some might argue it's really more about American history but considering the 'leader of the free world' makes decisions that impact all our lives these days, I think we've all had enough of a stake in the recent US elections to celebrate at the result.
After months of preparation (mostly consisting of soaking up relevant media articles, watching episodes of the West Wing and reading The Audacity of Hope), Gareth and I stocked ourself with pizza, Pepsi, pretzels and pudding (the election was obviously brought to us by the letter P) and settled down to watch the entire night of US election results from 11.00pm to 6.00am. In practice, this consisted mostly of several hours of dull talking heads commentary from random people whose insight was no better than my own, briefly punctuated with amusing moments such as when Gore Vidal (who appeared to be drunk) told the BBC correspondant he (BBC man) shouldn't ask any him (GV) questions since he (GV) didn't know who he (BBC man) was.
Our patience and resilience was rewarded when Barack Obama emerged the clear winner and Sarah Palin's hopes of murdering John McCain and usurping the presidency amounted to nothing.
In a cynical and largely charmless world, it's nice to feel so strongly united with so many people, regardless of race, gender, creed, geography or age and feel like we've all been witness to a historical event.
A change we need indeed!
After months of preparation (mostly consisting of soaking up relevant media articles, watching episodes of the West Wing and reading The Audacity of Hope), Gareth and I stocked ourself with pizza, Pepsi, pretzels and pudding (the election was obviously brought to us by the letter P) and settled down to watch the entire night of US election results from 11.00pm to 6.00am. In practice, this consisted mostly of several hours of dull talking heads commentary from random people whose insight was no better than my own, briefly punctuated with amusing moments such as when Gore Vidal (who appeared to be drunk) told the BBC correspondant he (BBC man) shouldn't ask any him (GV) questions since he (GV) didn't know who he (BBC man) was.
Our patience and resilience was rewarded when Barack Obama emerged the clear winner and Sarah Palin's hopes of murdering John McCain and usurping the presidency amounted to nothing.
In a cynical and largely charmless world, it's nice to feel so strongly united with so many people, regardless of race, gender, creed, geography or age and feel like we've all been witness to a historical event.
A change we need indeed!
Monday, October 20, 2008
How to spot people at the airport who have just got off a flight from Dubai
They're the ones wearing sunglasses.
Indoors.
At 9.00pm.
In England.
Indoors.
At 9.00pm.
In England.
Uh-oh...
Gareth walked into one of the spider webs the other day.
The mind boggles to think what hideous retribution awaits.
The mind boggles to think what hideous retribution awaits.
Things male friends talk to me about
- Curtains
- Cleaning products
- The relative merits of beards
Any glamour I may once have exercised is clearly gone.
Things my cab driver thought I might be interested to hear his views on
Discussed during a 15 minute journey to Heathrow:
- Gloria Estefan
- Driving in Windsor
- Volvos
- Asian cab companies
- Advertising on the radio
- Maintaining the right attitude during an economic downturn
All, as I'm sure you'd agree, worth knowing about.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Everybody needs good neighbours
There are, not one, not two but three fairly large spiderwebs right outside my front door, playing home to what appears to be West Dulwich's native species of arachnid.
I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this state of affairs - my attitude towards spiders generally being that they're welcome to exist in an abstract sense, but not share my home - after all, they're TECHNICALLY outside and not attempting to interact with me in any significant fashion. That said, it's only a matter of time before winter sets in and they start looking around for more hospitable environments and when they do, it will surely not escape their attention that our home is within spitting distance of theirs, providing all the convenience of staying in the neighbourhood without having to foot the cost of ever-increasing energy bills. Plus, it's obviously only a matter of time before I come home late one evening, fumble for my keys in the relative darkness of our doorstep, inadvertently stumble right into the murky depths of at least one of the webs and incur the wrath of its occupant. And one shudders to think what the upshot of that kind of thing might be.
Gareth takes the view that they're 'interesting looking' (I maintain that he needs to re-think his idea of what is worth observation and what isn't) and they have not actually made much effort to get to know us, so as neighbours go, they're better than some. As such, we are leaving them alone for the moment.
We are, after all, not here to fuck spiders.
I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this state of affairs - my attitude towards spiders generally being that they're welcome to exist in an abstract sense, but not share my home - after all, they're TECHNICALLY outside and not attempting to interact with me in any significant fashion. That said, it's only a matter of time before winter sets in and they start looking around for more hospitable environments and when they do, it will surely not escape their attention that our home is within spitting distance of theirs, providing all the convenience of staying in the neighbourhood without having to foot the cost of ever-increasing energy bills. Plus, it's obviously only a matter of time before I come home late one evening, fumble for my keys in the relative darkness of our doorstep, inadvertently stumble right into the murky depths of at least one of the webs and incur the wrath of its occupant. And one shudders to think what the upshot of that kind of thing might be.
Gareth takes the view that they're 'interesting looking' (I maintain that he needs to re-think his idea of what is worth observation and what isn't) and they have not actually made much effort to get to know us, so as neighbours go, they're better than some. As such, we are leaving them alone for the moment.
We are, after all, not here to fuck spiders.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Please don't stop the music
Some days, you unknowingly pick exactly the right song.
Each step times perfectly with the beat and the walk to the station actually improves your mood, despite the fact that you're on your way to work at an ungodly hour of the day when even the sun hasn't made it out of bed yet.
Today is going to be a good day.
Each step times perfectly with the beat and the walk to the station actually improves your mood, despite the fact that you're on your way to work at an ungodly hour of the day when even the sun hasn't made it out of bed yet.
Today is going to be a good day.
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