I said, brrr it's cold out there

Today is my Friday as it's my last day of work before the Easter break.

Hurrah!

Today I am thankful and VERY happy because Friend Who Knows Big Words, Gingerbread Man and I finally won the pub quiz last night!

After time after time of coming second to a bunch of alleged Google-cheaters, we finally won!

And even better, I actually knew some of the answers because it didn't centre totally around sport or audio clips – thanks to a new quiz master.

In fact, the whole quiz is deaf friendly, mainly because right from the start of this new guy doing the quiz, I have drummed it into him, and spoken up when he’s been out of sight and I can’t lipread. That means, that I hear everything. It’s therefore the best pub quiz I’ve ever been to – and my friends agree too, as they don’t have to keep relaying the questions to me.

Anyway, blogging from my iPhone is tricky today because my fingers are numb – it is so flipping cold! I know I haven't rabbitted on about the weather for quite some time now – Miss K used to think I was bonkers – but seriously, it's April tomorrow... I want teenage temperatures not preschool ones.

And on that note – I’m just off to sit on the radiator. It’s the only thing for it.

The running deaf girl races!

OK, Deafinitely Girly has some very erm… exciting, no wait, that’s the wrong word for it… SHOCKING news!!!!

She is running… in a race!

*pauses and waits for people to get back up off the floor

I know!

I don’t know what came over me, but Tigger inspired me. He’s visiting soon you see, and he suggested we do a race together that weekend. So we are...

Eek!

Seriously though, I am a teeny tiny bit excited – even though it is only a 5k run – as it will be my first ever running race since the house cross country nearly 20 years ago, when I came last out of the whole school… and you wonder what put me off running!

I’m hoping that this race will also give me added incentive to get out there and keep running. This morning – despite only having 4 hours sleep – I still got up and pounded the pathways of my local park. And I actually felt better for it.

OK, who’s kidnapped DG and put this odd running deaf girl in her place?!

It’s all thanks to Tigger really though – he kept quietly encouraging me. And now I have ‘come out’ as a runner – he’s noisily encouraging me. He even wants me to do the Great South Run in October but I’m… aherm… most deafinitely busy that weekend.

But if I am really going to keep at this running business, I really ought to invest in some running trousers that aren’t frayed to the knees, a top that isn’t meant for skiing and something more sophisticated than an egg timer.

Time for a shop at lunchtime today, I think!

Passionate about St John's Passion... erm!

Today I missed my morning run because I forgot to change the time on my alarm clock!

I woke up an hour late and have felt out of sync ever since.

*sniff

It also means that I have to go tomorrow – but hopefully the rain will hold off and enable me a dry meander through my local park.

The main thought getting me through this week is that Ma is coming to visit! She’s coming down for a long weekend for Easter, with Pa joining us later on. It’ll be great to relax and catch up with her – and if it’s rainy we can simply relax and enjoy crap TV while sitting on my lovely sofa.

Anyway, I had the most lovely weekend with SuperCathyFragileMystic and The Photographer. The car journey was quiet as I really couldn’t hear a thing – but we ate our weight in Percy Pigs from M&S, which would have kept us quiet anyway.

On Saturday evening, we went to watch SCFM singing St John’s Passion by Bach in Colston Hall. It was very official, with a traditional Baroque orchestra, which I found fascinating! Luckily, I was sat a mere few metres away from the bassoon, double bass and cello, so they more than made up for the fact that I couldn’t hear the violins, oboes or flutes.

I must confess, I was a little scared about sitting through two hours of no-interval choral music, but I was actually pleasantly surprised. What I could hear was very nice – and if the bits I couldn’t hear, weren’t, then it didn’t matter to me!

It’s sung in German – which isn’t the most attractive language in the world to lipread but I managed to pick up a few German words I recognised, and we were provided with a loose translation in our program for the rest of it.

Am I now passionate about Bach’s Passion? Absolutely not. But it was a very good experience and I was most impressed with SCFM’s singing abilities… two hours in rising temperatures and a big velvet skirt must have been character building.

The only thing I would have changed if I could, was the uncontrollable giggles I succumbed to just 10 minutes in. I can’t even remember what triggered it now, but the Photographer and I set each other off and I was silently (I hope) laughing so hard that I nearly fell off my chair. The more I tried to stop, the worse it got.

*blush

MUST… BEHAVE… BETTER!

Hearing in my car

Today is Thankful Friday.

I am thankful that I finally get to see SuperCathyFragileMystic’s new house in the Wild West erm… Country – it’s called Christmas Cottage and it looks really rather cute in the pictures.

The Photographer – SCFM’s boy – and I are driving up after work in my little car. Once it gets dark, I will no longer be able to hear him and drive in a straight line at the same time on account of lipreading issues.

Don’t worry though (especially if my Ma is reading this), I will pick to do the latter not the former!

And that reminds me, I had better warn him that conversation will be sparse and that he should bring music, as the only thing in my car right now is the Glee Soundtrack and Pavlov’s Dog – an eclectic mix of pure cheese and bonkers-ness.

Poor guy – it could be a very long journey!

Lipreading silent letters

You must excuse me, my cheeks are still glowing a warm shade of red from an embarrassing episode in Pret a Manger this morning.

There I was, buying my banana and sparkling water and after the 10th pardon, still with no clue what the man behind the till was saying to me.

*blush

It’s a noisy place, to be fair, but even my lipreading skills were no help, because in this instance, it turns out he was pronouncing a letter that’s usually silent – and this letter was the ‘p’ in receipt.

This ‘p’ and closure of his lips in the pattern of this word completely threw me. I had no clue what he was saying.

I looked to his colleague, who also seemed to pronounce the ‘p’, which was no help and eventually he gave up and said – do you want the paper thing?

Hurrah! Now I knew what was going on… but by this stage I was a gibbering, stammering, embarrassed ball of blondeness and he was pretty baffled, too.

‘I’m deaf,’ I reassured him – desperate for him not to think it was his English that was the problem – although it kind of was, but I don’t think he understood me.

So I grabbed my stuff and legged it – still red – to work.

It’s a long time since my lipreading skills let me down – I’m normally too on the ball, nosily reading people’s conversations in bars and restaurants, or from my bus in a traffic jam.

The other day I witnessed THE BEST fight between a couple – I think tourists – who were lost on Oxford Street. The guy had his back to me, so I was treated to a one-sided conversation as the girl ranted and raved about the fact that he didn’t know know where they were. It was getting so heated that I almost felt like getting off the bus and telling them where they were, just so she’d stop going mental at him.

Tomorrow, when I go into Pret, I am going to be on ‘p’ alert – or maybe I’ll just buy my banana from Somerfield like everyone else.

Jawlking home

Hurrah the sun is shining, the birds may well be singing and spring has finally sprung.

All this is a sharp contrast to yesterday evening when I made the decision to jog/walk or jawlk home!

Keen to try out my new running trainers, I decided last night I would walk the 4.9 miles back to my little flat. I set off and it started to rain. Halfway home, it was really raining so I decided to speed things up a bit and jog. Now, as I am only in week 4 of my walk-to-run program, I had no idea how I would fare, but I did alreet, running for 15 minutes and speeding up my journey considerably!

My goal now is to run the whole way home, but maybe I'll leave that until week 8 or something!

Having decent trainers that match my running style has really made a difference though. For starters my feet didn't hurt, and it's much easier to keep running when your feet don't hurt. Secondly, because I know they fit me, I worry less about getting nasty things like bunions – sore feet for life in exchange for fitness doesn’t seem like a good deal to me.

Ooh, and while we're on the subject of trainers, yesterday I won a pair of MBTs. For those of you that don't know, these are trainers with funny rounded soles and they are meant to improve your posture and give you a workout as you walk. More importantly, they cost a fortune!

So imagine my delight when I learnt I would soon have a pair for absolutely free.

Between them and the running, I will have my double-figure figure under control in no time at all.

Or at the very least, I'll break even in relation to my chocolate addiction!

Teehee!

Content with my deafness

Don’t know about you, but I am loving the warmer weather we’ve been having.

OK, so it’s not really warm as such, but it’s deafinitely not a cold as it has been.

Today, I even considered shedding the fleece on my morning run – leaving me with just three layers on, not four!

What I am not loving however, is the roadworks that are still happening outside my house – two months after they started and well over their deadline. It’s so frustrating as it’s making my morning commute much more stressful – and I’m not the only one. People are still behaving incredibly irrationally – driving down cycle lanes, ignoring pedestrian crossings in a bid to get through while the lights are on green, and winding down their windows and shouting at each other.

If it wasn’t making me late for work, I would almost be entertained by the whole thing. But really, it’s not entertaining anymore so I am going to write to the utility company in CAPITALS and tell them exactly what I think of their lateness.

Crikey, if I am doing this now, at 29 years old, imagine what I am going to be like as an old lady – I’ll get RSI from all the complaint letters!

Anyway, today is my Friday as I have tomorrow off for the arrival of my new deaf fire alarm. I am MOST excited about it – mainly because, well, I’ve never had a fancy gadget in my home that helps me with hear stuff before. To know that when I close my eyes at night, there’ll be no chance of me ending up drowning in smoke like on that hideous fire-warning advert on TV at the moment, makes me very happy.

What also makes me happy is that I am gradually becoming more proactive about asking for things I need. I’ve never really been very good at that.

Having my Wear My Hearing Aids Day yesterday, has also given me a new contentment with what I can hear. Hearing aids don’t make it better, I have confirmed that for another year. What’s more, it made me realise just how much I like my world with not much hearing…

OK, so that didn’t come out very eloquently, but I guess what I am trying to say that, lack of cinema outings, subtitled Virgin Media On Demand, phone calls, and whispered sweet nothings aside, I am more than happy with what I can hear.

And, also with what I can’t – as the bawling baby, lipread only, on the bus this morning confirmed.

It’s making me feel unbelievably content – for the first time in ages. Rather than just getting on with this whole deaf thing, I am actually happy about it.

At last…

Today is Wear My Hearing Aids Day

Today is a very special date in my annual calendar.

Yup! It's DG’s Wear My Hearing Aids Day!

This rare and sometimes forgotten occasion last took place over a year ago and came to an abrupt halt before 9am after a police car went by and sent me hurtling for cover, my flight reflex telling me World War Three had begun.

So naturally today, I'm intrigued to know if my hearing aids will make it to lunch!

Now, I must let new readers know that I have absolutely no ‘issue’ with hearing aids, they don't dent my sense of identity in any way, nor do I feel self conscious, they just don't help me an awful lot, that is all. I’m rather jealous of friends like Fab Friend who get on with theirs so well – it’s not just me being stubborn, I promise.

At my last hearing test, I had the chance to try out three of the latest models – and remained optimistic that at least one would make a difference. As the most important thing to me is speech clarity, we popped over to the children's clinic where I did a Word Test sat on a teeny tiny blue chair, trying to resist playing with the Lego. I did one Word Test without hearing aids, and then one with each of the new models.

In the end I chose the pair that helped me hear just three more syllables then when I was aidless. And for one week I knuckled down and wore them. And for that one week, in spite of high-tech digital tuning, I found myself not hearing what I wanted to hear and being unbalanced by the extreme volume increase of things I could already hear in the first place.

Hmmmm…

So today, on my way to work, I sat on the bus and heard the whirr of the air con, the chug of the engine, but not one single voice! And people were talking, I could see them. So in fact, my hearing aids actually succeeded in drowning out the sound of voices – something I usually have even without clarity! It felt as though I was in some bizarre 2D world with only the sounds of machines for company, and no sound of life!

On arrival at the office, what can I hear? The whirr of the air conditioning, the clicking of my keyboard, and softly, underneath all that, some voices. But with no clarity.

I hear no phones ring, no fire alarm test and no office gossip. It's like my non-hearing-aid world, only with louder air conditioning.

So technically, I am wearing expensive digital hearing aids so I can hear the air conditioning more clearly.

On attending a morning meeting, someone with the lurgy sat down beside me, and sneezed.

‘Jesus!’ I exclaim, halting the meeting.

I am wearing expensive digital hearing aids to hear people sneeze better and embarrass myself in public.

Which brings me to think maybe I should cancel my annual Wear My Hearing Aids Day and get back to hearing 'normally'. It can't be any worse than this, surely?

Hearing(?!) a clock tick!

Ooh, today the weather feels positively spring-like don't you think?

This was definitely reflected in my lack of layers when I went running this morning. I'm improving every time I go now, although I'm still not completely won over by this whole running thing...

Today I'm thinking about the weekend... already! You see, it's gonna be another weekend of DIY as I attempt to put right yet another piece of shoddy workmanship in my flat done by a previous owner.

And to help me with this one is DIY expert, Onion Soup Mate. Together with FSA Boy, she is renovating her own lovely house and having just done her bathroom, I reckoned she was the expert to ask for help with mine!

I will of course be doing some work, too, but I shall mostly be doing what I'm told.

Anyway, as I was lying in bed last night, I heard(?!) the strangest noise. ‘Tap, tap, tap, tap’ it went. My heart was in my mouth as I wondered if it was my heating again, but thankfully the heating had been off for some time, and it was a different tap. (At ease, Blanco!)

I got up to investigate, noticing that it got louder in the hallway. ‘Tap, tap, tap’ it went.

High and low I looked until my ears and eyes finally came to rest on a bright pink cuckoo clock given to me by NikNak for my birthday.

I've never really heard a clock tick before. Not since before I lost lots of my hearing, and certainly not without holding it up right to my ear.

How could this be?

And then it clicked. In my unsupervised DIY mania, I had put the clock up on a hollow wall, which was acting as an amplifier... even for deaf old me!

Incredible!

But then of course, I was torn between so happy I could hear something like a clock ticking but also not being able to sleep because of it.

In the end I reached a compromise. By day, the clock ticks and by night, time stands still.

I wonder what else I can nail to the wall to make it louder?!

Would this happen if I wasn't deaf?

Well, I started my day in style today, by falling down the steps at my rents' local station. Not quite sure what happened but basically, I went one way, my case went another, and my pride went out the window.

All in view of a cute guy...

What is it with me, cute guys, and public transport?

The said cute guy jogged over to me, collecting my suitcase on the way. He checked I was OK before safely depositing me, the suitcase, and my pride on the train.

Happy Monday to me!

Anyway, this weekend from a Mother’s Day point of view, was a bit of a disaster. Namely because I had somehow managed to book the spa day for the erm... wrong day!

We turned up on the Saturday to discover we should have been the allegedly on the Friday. Confused I checked my iPhone and the original email I sent was requesting appointments for Saturday 12th – and seeing as Saturday was the 13th, I began to see how this could have happened.

But what frustrated me was that I did say Saturday, and I also said I was deaf, so couldn't call, and if I had said Saturday 12th on the phone, I'm pretty sure she would have asked me which date or day I meant. But she didn't on email. She just said, yes that would be fine for the 12th. No mention of the day and that was that. So when the confirmation email came in, work being busy and all, I didn't really pay much attention to it. My bad!

But even so, when I didn’t turn up on the 12th, no attempt was made to contact me, which is just poor customer service in my book!

So OK, this whole thing started with an error on my part, but what wasn't my fault was the way the peroxided-to-within-an-inch-of-her-life woman at the spa reception dealt with the whole thing. She did that beauty school-belittling thing you often come across and left me feeling more than a little wounded about the whole episode.

It’s frustrating and I tweeted about it – wanting to add the # of: Wouldn’thappenifIwasn’tdeaf because I really think that’s true.

However, on a positive note, it’s only the first time ever that internet booking has not worked out for me. And would I really want to hang out at such a snooty spa anyway?

Most deafinitely not!

Just thankful it's Friday

Today is Thankful Friday.

It’s Friday, I am thankful.

Nuff said.

The silent, singing mouse

Phew – today is Thursday, which means tomorrow is Friday and then it’s the weekend!

Hurrah!

It’s Mother’s Day this Sunday, so I am off home to The Rents and on Saturday, I am taking Ma to a Spa – she’s having some tension melt back massage thing, while I laze around the facilities, which all sound rather fab. Afterwards, Pa is going to meet us for afternoon tea!

What a high life I lead eh?

Back to earth with a bump though, and today I am still struggling with this flippin’ cold. This morning I looked like a fish out of water as I kept dropping my jaw to try and clear my ears – with little success. It was only when the guy beside me on the bus shot me a rather strange look that I realised I must look quite odd and stopped. But the stopping seemed to make it worse and I began sneezing, lots.

At this point the guy on the bus moved.

What is it with me and frightening guys on public transport?

I suppose I should be used to making a fool of myself by now, I’ve been doing it for 28 years or so. But I think last night just about won the award for ‘Biggest fool made in quite a while’!

Shakira Shakira came for dinner and to see my new flat for the first time. Wine was poured, shepherd’s pie was eaten and the mood was jovial. It was then I picked up a soft toy mouse on the table and said to her, ‘Look what my Ma gave me at Christmas.’ I then proceeded to dance about with the mouse.

She looked at me quizzically.

‘It’s not doing anything,’ she said, trying not to laugh.

‘You mean it’s not playing a recording of Jingle Bells with a Polish accent?’ I said, going bright red in the realisation that I had just danced around the room to absolutely nothing.

‘No,’ she said, not even trying not to laugh.

This stuffed mouse is meant to play Jingle Bells when you squeeze it, but I had forgotten to do that. I can only hear it if I hold it right up to my ears, so I hadn’t realised it wasn’t playing.

*blush

Thnakfully Shakira Shakira knows me well, so she wasn’t shocked, or surprised by me dancing around the flat holding a silent mouse.

Mental note to self – No doing that on the bus!

A wasabi deaf fire alarm!? YUM!

Right, important things first – it seems I was hasty to contact the London Fire Brigade to ask them to sort out an alarm that would shake me from my sleep.

I should, according to this week’s Stylist magazine, have contacted Japan.

It says, and I kid you not, that a Japanese company has created a smoke alarm for hearing impaired people, using wasabi paste!

Erm…

Air Water Safety Services discovered that virtually every person with hearing difficulties woke up after the wasabi smell was released as its odour was so powerful!

Amazing stuff – but I think I’ll stick to my vibrating under-pillow pad thanks so I don’t wake up craving sushi in the event of a fire!

Anyway, enough about that and onto more about me, me, me!

At the moment, I am in week 2 of my Walk-to-run-in-10-weeks program, and it's going well.

I have proven to myself that I can run – something I've always doubted, and I'm already noticing the difference in my recovery time after each running section.

However, being unsure about whether I'm going to stick at this running business, I haven't really invested in any kit. I've got decent trainers as I don't want to get bunions, but beyond that, all I've got is a mash up of ancient sports gear.

On my first run I went out very unprepared and froze to death. On my second, my body was warm but my ears were cold, so ear muffs were added.

Classy huh?

On my third run, my hands were cold so I popped on some fluffy Peruvian gloves that Fab Friend gave me to complete the outfit. Then for good measure I added a Quicksilver fleece with flared sleeves as it really was bitterly cold, and the running outfit was complete.

But ah-ha! I haven't told you what the icing on the cake is yet!

My egg timer!

You see, the Walk-to-run plan involved walking and running, which requires a timer as there's no way I'm counting while trying to get a grip on putting one foot in front of the other at speed and remembering to breathe in and out at regular intervals instead of just randomly gasping for breath at sporadic intervals!

And, as I said earlier, I don't want to splash out on all the kit if I am not going to stick at this running malarky, so an egg timer is the only thing for it really!

So, if you see an ear-muff wearing, Peruvian-glove clad little michelin girl half walking, half running, around a park while clasping a bright orange egg timer, be sure to give me a wave, won't you!

My can't-hear cold!

Does anyone believe that an ulcer on the tip of your tongue means you've told a lie?

If so, I must have told the most humungous lie as I have the most humungous ulcer. It's so painful that talking hurts, and people who know me well will know it takes a lot for me to stop talking!

What I really need is some Bonjela and a week in the Bahamas… think we all know which one I'll be buying at lunch.

Anyway, the love/hate relationship with my iPhone continues to rage. When I accidentally poured water over it the other day, I realised I loved it and apologised repeatedly for ever thinking bad thoughts about it, promising to never think bad things again if only it would keep working.


But then, when auto correct changes words that are already correct into completely insane alternatives, I find myself tempted to immerse it in an entire bucket of water as punishment. It really is driving me bonkers.

And another thing, I never thought I could miss buttons this much. I never thought I would ever write a sentence about missing buttons.

But on the other hand, I love iTunes and Pocket Lyrics, and the tube application that tells you how many minutes away a train is, even if the station display board isn’t telling you.

Love/Hate – it’s a very fine line indeed, it seems.

This week I've managed to catch the tail end of the lurgy that has left French Boy bed bound for two days and knocked Friend Who Knows Big Words off her feet as well. It's not nice, but so far the main thing I have is blocked ears. It feels like the pressure is constantly changing and I can't clear them.

Naturally, this makes me a whole lot deafer.

For example, my TV is on twice the normal volume right now, and I'm sure I'm shouting when I speak, too.

On the whole, I'm not really aware of it until I do something so loud that even I notice. Like this morning when I went into tidy-up mode in my flat – Niknak is coming to dinner tonight – and started putting lots of things away in a hurry. It was only when I made the floor shake that I realised I was probably being very noisy, and then I remembered that French Boy is bed bound and sick and that noise will probably not make him feel a whole lot better.

I resolved immediately to be a whole lot quieter...

... and at that moment managed to drop a large box of cutlery onto my stone-tiled, kitchen floor!!

*sigh

I did try, honest!

What?! No Subtitles!?

A few weeks ago I had a bit of a Twitter disagreement with Virgin Media because I felt it was unfair to advertise broadband as costing less when you took a phone line in addition, than if you just got broadband on it's own.

Now, I know that just broadband is cheaper than a phone line and broadband put together, but what I really wanted to know was why, if broadband only costs £12.50 to line-renting customers who pay a further £11 for their line rental, it can't cost just £12.50 for broadband customers? I mean, I’m deaf, I don’t want a phone line, but I do want broadband for £12.50 a month.

Does this make sense? Or am I just being blonde about the whole thing?

Long story short, it was a discussion that went nowhere, so I bought a Vodafone Pay-As-You-Go Dongle for my laptop, which is incidentally fabulous, and forgot all about Virgin Media.

Then yesterday, I began to wonder if perhaps I shouldn’t have been so hasty after all when I was at London Aunt's house. You see, she has the broadband, phone and TV package with Virgin Media and, as we were tired, we thought an afternoon movie might be a nice idea.

There was nothing on TV that caught the imaginations of London Cousins 1 and 2 so we decided to investigate the Movies On Demand section, which I didn’t even know existed. ‘How exciting,’ I thought. ‘This would be worth paying that little bit extra for!’

With a massive selection of movies to choose from, Night At The Museum 2 was duly selected and we pressed play.

But…

…no subtitles

‘Doh, silly me!’ I thought, before stopping the movie, going into settings and turning on the subtitles.

Still no subtitles!

Seriously, I checked three further times just to make sure but there really didn't seem to be any. There wasn't even an ‘S’ in brackets like you get on normal TV when calling up the programme information!

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?!

With two excitable cousins waiting to watch the movie, I couldn’t very well suggest watching the EastEnders Omnibus instead, so I watched Night At The Museum 2 without hearing a single word.

London Aunt and Cousins 1 and 2 did an admirable job at keeping me informed of the storyline as much as possible, but apart from that, all I could do was watch the pictures. It was like being back in the 90s again. It was depressing. Even worse, it cost London Aunt £3 and something pence to buy! The DVD with subtitles and special feature probably doesn't cost a whole lot more than that – in fact, I just checked and it’s available for £6.98.

Keen to see what they'd say about this, I tweeted Virgin Media this morning first thing and eagerly awaited their reply as they were very speedy last time. Nothing has come through yet, but once it does I will update this post.

However, a quick Google revealed a press release from Virgin Media about the lack of subtitles currently available on On Demand. So it really is true. And although I am sure, like the iPlayer, something will eventually be done about this, it makes me sad that there are no apparent – please correct me if I’m wrong – concessions for a service that doesn’t serve deaf people well.

There’s only one thing for it – at lunchtime, I’m ordering the Night At The Museum DVD from Amazon using my laptop and internet from my Vodafone Pay-As-You-Go Dongle.

Hearing plane announcements

Hurrah! It’s Thankful Friday again and today, I am thankful for my latest visitors – French Cousin 3 and his girlf, whose blog name I have yet to decide on.

They arrived last night – him from Birmingham, where he is studying, her from Paris, where she works and I found them huddled in the cold by the tube. It’s cold alright, and poor French Cousin 3 forgot his hat, so this morning he departed wearing a rather fetching crochet and flower-adorned number belonging to his girlf!

He did look funny!

I am also thankful that tomorrow I can sleep, relax and hang out with London Aunt, reminiscing that this time last week we were on our way to Barcelona – or actually just delayed at Heathrow for hours and hours and hours due to a French air traffic control strike.

Pah

Hopefully this weekend I will also collect the amazing photographs that London Aunt took so I can upload them along with my account of how fantastic the weekend was.

It really was!

The only bit I’d like to change is the flight home.

You see, I’m not that keen on flying. Something about the announcements sends me into a tailspin – I can’t hear them but I can hear the voice, so in my head I’m hearing, ‘The plane is failing, we’re gonna crash!’ which is bonkers, I know, but I can’t help it.

So anyway, as you know, last weekend there was a terrible storm lashing France and Spain and I was more than a little worried that the flight home would be bumpy and plagued with apocalyptic announcments – and, feeling a little fragile as a result of alcohol, I decided to ask the BA air steward on arrival on the place if the journey to Barcelona had been bumpy.

‘Oh, yes!’ she said, brightly.

BRIGHTLY!!!?

‘How could she be cheerful about this?’ I wondered. And then she saw my face paling at the prospect of bumps, unheard announcements and a hangover in a confined space and realised she’d said the wrong thing.

I sat down with a huff beside London Aunt and took out my crossword puzzle, but my hangover prevented me from reading the clues, let alone understanding them.

Closing my eyes, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the lovely air steward from earlier to check I was OK – even though we had yet to leave the gate. I assured her I was fine but just hated turbulence, while London Aunt threw quizzical looks at me.

Not content however, the lovely air steward went and got the pilot from the cockpit to have a personal chat to me. London Aunt by this point was hiding behind her paper, cringing with embarrassment, while I felt like a 5-year-old child.

In many ways, I was most impressed by the service I was given – it’s just that, I only wanted to know if there was going to be bumps on the way back to London. That’s all!!!! I didn’t want to be the focal point of the plane, which I was fast becoming.

And then came the icing on the cake. The empty seat beside us was waiting to be filled by the MOST gorgeous man – except he couldn’t sit down as the pilot was having a chat to me. He was stood behind, smirking at me, as I went redder, and redder until I practically shooed the captain away to fly the bloomin’ plane.

By this point, my mouth and brain were completely disengaged and when he signalled that his seat was in our row I declared, ‘Fabulous!’ a little too loudly.

The cabin once again focussed on me.

He sat down, a little baffled.

I sat down, red.

London Aunt sat down laughing so hard, the Daily Mail she was hiding behind started to quiver uncontrollably.

‘Made a new friend I see,’ he teased.

‘Erm, bliuejhvskdjhkv kjhkh’ I replied, quite unable to speak.

Once more, a quizzical look.

Once more, a red-faced DG.

When the place landed, I clapped – which in context was an illustration to something I was saying to London Aunt – but out of context, to the cute boy made me look like some sort of Fruit Loop.

I learned something on that flight, you know. And here it is: Never, ever fly hungover and ask an over-enthusiastic air stewards about turbulence… especially not when the cutest boy you’ve met for some time sits right down beside you.

Travelling it seems, is insanely bad for my love life.

My Make-things-better-for-deaf-people wish list

Phew, how can it be Thursday already?

This week has been a bit mental to tell you the truth. Yesterday I had my day ruined by a barium X-Ray, which involved drinking 5 cups of chalky white stuff, being X-Rayed a lot and prodded with a wooden spoon – all high-tech stuff I'm sure you'll agree.

Anyway, it left me feeling pretty rubbish and so the only place I wanted to be was my bed. So there I went.

But that's enough boring health stuff.

More importantly this week, I got an email from London Fire Brigade, offering me a home visit where they'd fit a flashing, vibrating fire alarm... for free!

How amazing is that?

Now, I knew that councils offered this service but the fact that the fire brigade do is bloomin’ fabulous.

I'm rather excited in fact that soon, I shall know when my smoke alarm is going off when I have burnt my toast.

It will give me one less thing to worry about – and that can only be a good thing.

It always gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling when things happen that make my deafness better – like digital subtitles that can be recorded, the iPod lyrics app on my phone, Stagetext captioning being available at The Globe, and anything that used to go beep that now vibrates.

Every year I have fewer things on my Make-it-better-for-deaf-people wish list, but right now at the top is subtitled movies extensively available on iTunes, subtitled iPlayer on the iPhone, and subtitled cinema at sociable times.

If I get all that this year, I'll be a very happy DG...

Guess I'd better think of new things to add to the list, just in case.

New beginings

Phew, today's post is late because I have the day off and am recovering from my amazing weekend in Barcelona.

More will be revealed on the weekend for my Superdrugloves.com blog so I won't give too much away. But it was absolutely brilliant - from the amazing room overlooking one of the nicest streets in central Barcelona, to the literally life-changing visit to see some of Gaudi's work.

We even found some time to stay out partying until 3am, with me telling London Aunt our hotel was just around the corner continuously for 10 minutes as there were no taxis.

Barcelona gave me a chance to really think about things - what I want, how I react to stuff and how easy it is to change things.

And today I started on one tiny thing I have been thinking about doing for a year, but have never done.

Running.

Knowing that if I just went out and ran, I would fall over after 30 seconds, I have found a beginners programme and today I got started. And, do you know what? Once I got over the weirdness of wondering if everyone was looking at the red-faced girl hotfooting it through the park, I really enjoyed it. Just me and my egg timer - an odd running companion I know, but I have to do interval running apparently and build up slowly.

It's step one of my new beginnings...

I'll keep you posted on the others.

Barcelona calling

Today is Thankful Friday.

It’s pay day, which I am most thankful for as home-owning is expensive business don’t you know.

This week hasn’t been a great one for blogging. Work has been very busy and even lunch breaks were quite a rarity as we fought to get everything done for deadline day.

That has now come and gone and as if by way of celebration the sun has come out.

This weekend I am finally claiming my prize that I won by becoming the Superdrug Ultimate Summer Insider – yes, it’s taken me a while I know – and I’m off to Barcelona with London Aunt.

We have a 5* hotel booked and it’s all paid for, so all we need to worry about it which tapas to choose to go with our beer, and which Gaudi exhibition to visit first.

Yay!

And, before anyone gets any ideas about me giving away my location this weekend – I have people house sitting for me!!!!

It is quite scary though, reading about all this ‘I’m away – come burgle me’ in the news. I follow various people on Twitter who are forever giving away their location – be it on holiday, on business or just which restaurant they in for the evening, and while I am not a crazy person or a burglar, you have to wonder if there are people out there who literally scan the social networking sites looking for burgling opportunities.

Anyway, so where was I? Ah yes, Barcelona!

I first had the privilege of wandering this fabulous city last April with Miss K – we had a fabulous time and she gave me a wonderful guided tour that will hopefully come in handy this weekend when trying to find various favourite haunts – namely the absinthe bar – otherwise known as Bar Marsella!

Friend Who Knows Big Words also told me about a bar owned by Manu Chao – El Marachi… The Guardian called it a clandestine drinking den – guess we’ve got to check that out, too then.

CORRECTION: FHKBW has just informed me the bar is actually called Sin Copa – guess it would be rude not to check out both!

And that concludes Thankful Friday.

I have a half day so I must be getting on!

Have a good one peeps

DG

No time to write

Phew! Today is so busy, I couldn't even write my daily blog in my lunch hour, as I didn't get one.

What I did get time to do though, was eat an entire pack of Percy Piglets from Marks & Spencer – in one mouthful.

I would highly recommend Percy Piglets if you fancy a sweet treat – but I wouldn't recommend eating an entire packet in one go.

I

FEEL

SICK!

Things that go crash in the night

Phew, sometimes it really is possible to feel like you've had the whole day before the sun is even properly up.

Take this morning for example, when I woke up at 5.30am.

‘Brilliant,’ I thought to myself. ‘I've still got another hour at least of sleep.’

I flung the covers over my head.

Crash!!!!!

Even with my limited hearing, that did not sound good.

My first task was to locate my glasses, so I patted my bedside table gingerly. There was water and no glasses.

Next my thoughts turned to my iPhone, so I patted the floor, desperately hoping it had been thrown out of harms way in the drama.

I found my glasses!

The next step was to face the music and turn on the light.

Carnage greeted me!

Somehow, I had managed to catapult an entire glass of water over my bedside table and into my open handbag. The bag was wet, the table was wet, a gang socket was wet, my iPhone had gone flying through the air and was dry as a bone several feet under my bed. My brand new carpet was soaking.

Needless to say, I spent the next half an hour sorting out 2 seconds of clumsiness, and on finishing knew, that if I returned to bed, I'd never want to get up again!

*yawn

So anyway, this morning I was forced to watch the drivel that is GMTV because BBC breakfast was completely without subtitles! Nothing! Nada! Not even a haphazardly constructed sentence of spelling mistakes!

I don't like GMTV. It's like those terrible real-life story magazines you can buy with headlines such as, ‘I married my brother’ or ‘He liquidised my cat, but I still love him’.

I mean, this morning there was a whole host of important news to report. A car bomb in Northern Ireland, the Gordon Brown bullying fiasco, and sure, while they touched on those things, do you know where one of their roving reporters was?

A house in Liverpool that had been trashed by a Facebook party.

Not only are Facebook parties old news, so people really should know better than to put a public invitation on the biggest social networking site in the world, but honestly? Who cares? Who cares in the grand scheme of things about red paint on dirty washing, of a bathroom GMTV deemed too shocking to show viewers?

If I had done that as a kid, my dad wouldn't have gone on GMTV to discuss it, he and my mother would have stood over me until ever last bit of their house had been put back together and then sent me to boarding school for the rest of my life – without leave!!

So inevitably after listening to five minutes of this drivel, I turned back to the BBC and thankfully the subtitles had retuned... just in time to tell me about a Henry Moore exhibition at the Tate that I really want to go and see.

That's more like it! Proper, interesting news! Fingers crossed tomorrow, the Beeb will be on the subtitling ball, so there's no danger of me being subjected to a GMTV bulletin of a break-dancing granny from Kent, a rollerblading parrot or a follow-up human-interest story of the house party in Liverpool!

Here's hoping!

Bafta flashing

Monday!

Eurgh!

Can’t take this rain anymore – I hate getting so soggy on my morning commute to work…

*sniff

Anyway, a splendid weekend was had by me – highlights including speaking French on a tube platform at stoopid o’clock on Friday evening – I had no idea I could speak French, so think Joey from Friends standard, rather than Amelie sweet nothings.

And then on Sunday, we went to The Dorchester for London Aunt’s birthday.

It was brilliant, and the food was quite amazing. The understated glamour was so fabulous that I forgot where I was after a while – until we stumbled out into a pre-Bafta’s mêlée that is!

It was bonkers! People everywhere, cameras everywhere, Lancome make-up artists everywhere, egos everywhere, but not a star in sight!!!!!

It was then I chose the moment to stand on the back of a lady’s dress, which was strapless, as she was bending down to greet a child – camera opportunity no doubt – and so causing a potentially embarrassing flesh exposure on her part, with me completely oblivious to the whole thing.

Indeed, if there is any footage of this event, all you will see is me striding off purposefully through the throng of photographers, and Ma in the background cracking up at the lady’s misfortune.

London Cousins 1 and 2 thought it was the best thing ever however – they felt like movie stars as they negotiated the cameras and glamorous nobodies, and were bouncing up and down and grinning from ear to ear as we walked down Park Lane to try and get a taxi.

For me? Well I think it afforded me a glimpse of what it must be like to be almost famous – all those people thinking they were somebody, posing left, right and centre, only to have some clumsy blonde stand on the back of their rented frock…

Nope! Much rather be just me, I reckon!

Hurrah, it's Thankful Friday

Whoa this morning’s walk to the bus stop was most odd.

Firstly a drunken man stopped dead in the street and started shouting at me. I don't know what he said but I'm guessing it wasn't all that savoury. He was waggling his finger at me, and drooling into his beard.

Deeeeeee-lightful!

And then… just when I had recovered from that, a bird flew into my head!

Right into it! Witnesses would have seen me running around like a mad woman, arms flailing everywhere, hair wild, handbag swinging alarmingly on my arm as I had an extremely delayed reaction to the bird, which had now come to rest in a tree above me.

Anyway moving on, today is Thankful Friday, and I am thankful for the arrival of Friend Who Knows Big Words and French boy. Last night I went and collected them from the tube, and out of the lift came these tanned gorgeous people who looked like they’d spent an awful lot of time lying on beaches in Vietnam.

*Harumph!

But I couldn’t stay envious for long as it was just simply so marvellous to see them.

I've left them in my flat this morning, jet lagged and peering sadly out of the window at the weather. I've told FWKBW she can borrow a coat, but I have a feeling when I see her in the pub later she'll be wearing three coats…

But enough about that…

I am also thankful that I get to see Jenny M for lunch, which reminds me, I’m late.

Have a good weekend peeps.

DG
x

Phone call success!

Whoop!

Today's the day that Friend Who Knows Big Words and French boy get back from HCMC, and I'm so excited.

This morning I went to number 41 and popped a sheepish letter through the door to say, have you got French Boy's parcel of clothes?

It's a very nice house, number 41 – I'm sure FWKBW and French boy would probably rather stay there for a few days than my place!

Anyway the weekend is almost here, which means it's London Aunt's birthday take two... at The Dorchester.

I'm determined to actually eat this meal and not spend the entire duration throwing up. Although I'm sure if you're going to throw up anywhere, then The Dorchester bathrooms would be a good place.

But enough about vomiting, I want to talk about... well actually I don't want to talk about anything except what a great thing it is the FWKBW and French boy are almost home! Should be a splendid evening all round, I think!

NEWS FLASH!
Number 41 called and left an unintelligible phone message for me – the parcel had been returned to the depot…

ARGH!

With a heavy heart I rang the depot – and got the clearest speaking lady in the whole world. She tolerated the fact I was deaf, didn’t have a tracking number, didn’t know who sent it, and didn’t know when it arrived and managed to locate the parcel – amazing!

And I’m very pleased with myself for being brave enough to try calling them, too!

Anyway, it’s being delivered tomorrow, so French Boy won’t have to freeze after all!

Phew!

I heard it on the phone from Vietnam!

Dear Marks & Spencer,
What has happened to your fashion ranges this season?

Now, if I was a fashion blogger, this is exactly how today’s post would begin after a lunch time of window shopping almost had me running screaming out of what I normally consider to be a provider of wardrobe staples!

Seriously, just the other day I was telling someone how many things in my wardrobe are from the Limited Collection range and that while I might not be the most fashionable person on the block, M&S suited me just fine when it came to shoes and nice frocks…

Today however, I was wishing I could take it all back. It’s vomtastically bad.

But enough about that as I am not a fashion blogger, I am just a blogger – with an occasional bit of beauty blogging for the fabulous peeps at Superdrugloves.com…

Anyway, this morning while waiting for my bus, my phone rang – it was a VERY long number and the only person I thought it could be was Friend Who Knows Big Words, from Vietnam, so I answered!

It was her!

Whoop!

And she was calling to check that everything was still OK for her and French Boy to come and stay tomorrow on arrival back from HCMC.

Of course, I squealed before she finally said, ‘so we’ll see you tomorrow at number 41…’

‘Erm…’ I thought to myself, ‘did I hear that right?’

‘Number 49,’ I said. ‘I live at number 49’

SILENCE

‘But you told me you lived at number 41,’ said Friend Who Knows Big Words, with a panic in her voice that even little deaf old me could hear. ‘And so I had a box of winter clothes for French Boy sent there so he doesn’t freeze to death on arrival.’

SILENCE

‘Crap!’ I said, loudly, causing all the passengers on the bus I had since boarded, to stare at me.

So tonight, after dinner with the Photographer and the Fashionista, I am going to number 41, to show them my hair colour and ask them for French Boy’s clothes…

I can only hope they’ve got them there while they try to work out why a random parcel of clothes was delivered to their address…

If not, I may be taking French Boy on an emergency shopping trip – and it won’t be to Marks & Spencer!

Not hearing bus announcements

Today is lots of things! It's pancake day, it's rainy and cold, and it's London Uncle's birthday.

*sits quietly for a moment

Tonight I am going round to London Aunt's house for dinner. She's being great at the moment as she's always making sure the food she gives me is not going to make me ill – cue delicious salmon fishcakes in the place of delicious steak pie.

At least someone is being vigilant in this whole thing.

Anyway, this morning I've been playing musical buses, in the rain, which is always fun.

The bus came, I got on it, the bus stopped, something screechy occurred through the microphone, and I did the deaf thing of watching my fellow passengers to try and gauge what was going on.

Nobody panicked and nobody moved, so I assumed there was no problem. Except there was and sure enough bus man came upstairs as kicked us off, just as the replacement bus was pulling away...

Cue lots of huffing and passenger puffing and me realizing that even people with hearing don't seem to know what's going on with public transport announcements!

Then, along came another bus, and surrounded by a swarm of people, which prevented the use of umbrellas, we waited to board. And then, person number one in that queue decided that was the perfect time to vent his frustration to the bus driver about the situation, leaving me and 20 others outside, getting soaked.

If I'd known this was going to happen I wouldn't have spent 15 minutes drying my hair this morning, I would have spent it having some much-needed sleep!

Speaking of sleep... How many hours is it until I can next have some of that?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Attack of the Crohn's

Attack of the Crohn's!

Sounds like a 70's sci-fi movie, huh?

It isn't, unfortunately – but it has been the reason I've been a little bit quiet this week on DeafinitelyGirly.com.

You see, after forgetting to edit my diet, and indulging in all the wrong things at a Pot Luck Day at work, I ended up losing 3 days of eating and 3 days of sleep, too.

I knew things were bad when I had to go and have a sleep in a cupboard at work. I lay down in a corner and slept for a full hour... on the floor!

Delightful life I'm leading.

What upset me the most is how many fun things I have missed out on this week – a late night at the National Portrait Gallery, a Superdrug VIP night, and London Aunt's birthday party.

I was actually at the latter, but wasn't really the life and soul... and watched three courses of delicious food pass under my nose without being able to eat a morsel!

So when it came to being Thankful this Friday, I was kinda stuck for ideas – I mean, should I be thankful that I keep missing fun social events, that I got 2 hours sleep on Wednesday night, or...

And then I stopped and thought about all the things that made my life bearable over the last few days and have decided to be thankful for them. They are:

London Aunt! whoop!
Blanco and Mrs Blanco
My new sofa and Orla Kiely blanket
Ma and Pa's fantastic advice
Crap TV recorded on my digibox
Texts from lovely friends

I am thankful for all of the above and more – without them, I would have gone stir crazy.

So, it really is a very thankful Friday after all.

Being deaf aware

Today, is a very important day! It's Big Bro's and London Aunt's birthday!

Whoop!

The former lives far away in Clogland so this morning I texted him birthday wishes. I expect his birthday will involve a lot of cake. That's what birthdays seem to be about over there... cake!

The latter, lives just up the road from me, and she's having a party tonight, which probably won't involve much cake and deafinitely will involve wine!!!!

It's a special birthday for London Aunt, even though she's perpetually 21, and my gift to her is a weekend in Barcelona – actually that bit of the gift was my prize for winning the Superdrug competition, so my proper gift to her is a visit to a Gaudi-something attraction followed by tapas and bubbles!

Can't wait!

Anyway, another day has passed with me as an iPhone owner and every day I like it more and more! Sure I'm panicking about the fact I left my charger at home today, but apart from that, it's deafinitely growing on me!

I even used it to make an essential phone call yesterday to my insurance company to insure it. And for the 5 minutes I spent saying pardon, before handing the phone over to a helpful colleague, it was great. And had the prepubescent boy at the other end the phone slowed down when I told him I was deaf rather than speeding up, I might have fared a lot better.

This seems to be a common knee-jerk reaction though when I tell people I am deaf. They either start to witter in a panic, look down in embarrassment or in some cases start shouting so their voices are distorted anyway. The guy on the phone yesterday did two out of those three things, he may well have been doing the third, too but I couldn't see him!

But I know in all honesty I'd be no better – and even I cover my mouth when talking to Fab Friend Who Actually Wears Her Hearing Aids, and expect her to hear me when she can't see my lips...

Hmmmm time to book a place on a deaf awareness course perhaps.

A helping hand in IKEA

Regular readers will know that I've recently just bought my first flat and, although I am incredibly biased, I have to say, it is absolutely gorgeous!

At the moment I have two household missions:

To get my bedroom sorted to accommodate my – ahem – minimalist tendencies, and to get my spare room sorted so it's a peaceful haven for guests, not an extension of the erm... blatant minimalism in my bedroom.

So, this means storage, which of course means IKEA!

And so, I measured and hunted around in my dog-eared IKEA catalogue until I found something that was affordable and in stock at my local store, and set off for the big blue and yellow shop.

The trip was a success! Of course I filled my yellow carrier bag with things I never knew I needed on the way round, before coming to my senses, putting it all back and heading to the warehouse bit.

There, I found my chest of drawers. It had a warning sign about needing two people to lift all 43kg of it, but as there was no one around, I had a go. Well I could lift half of it, but the other 21.5kg was staying firmly put.

So off I went in search of help, and found it. He also reassured me that help would be at hand in the car park, too. But unfortunately, anyone who worked at Ikea at the exact moment I needed a hand with my heavy box, was involved with trying to diffuse a fight that has erupted inside the revolving door of the entrance to the shop.

It was quite a sight... 8 hoodies, trapped as by then the revolving door had given up trying to revolve, beating the crap out of each other!

So, anyway, this meant I was stuck in the car park with a great big heavy box and no way of getting it in my car. I did try though. First, I levered it onto my knees with a view to sliding it into my boot. Then I tried pushing it from one end, but it kept getting stuck. I looked around for possible men to help me, but they were all holding tightly to a girls hand, and asking a guy to help you while he's doing the IKEA mating ritual with his partner is easier said than done.

Then all of a sudden a shrill voice piped up, 'Can I help you, love?'

I looked up, and there in front of me stood a 40-something lady, peroxided hair, ruby red talons, massive heels and a rather glamorous outfit!

But who was I to turn down an offer of help when I’d spent the last 20 minutes trying to get the box in my car with little success.

And she was brilliant!

She got this amazingly heavy box into my car with me, without batting an eye lash, and I think I was more worried about her breaking a nail than she was!

As she waved me off, I couldn't help but smile about how lovely people can be, and how the most unexpected people step in to help.

I must remember to return the favour if I ever see another like me, in IKEA alone, thinking they can lift 43kg boxes.

Make sure you do the same please!

Blogging from my iPhone

Today's blog comes directly from my new iPhone, which has of course already been customized with a fabulous pink case!

As I type, I'm sat in a first class carriage, zooming back to London after an utterly brlliant weekend. I said "I do" and became Little Frenchie's godmother and had a nice time catching up with The Rents.

Anyway, the iPhone, what do I think? Well, on the surface I love it. It's pretty to look at, sleek, offers a host of utterly useless applications such as Paper Toss - addictive in some ways and annoying in others.

It also offers a wealth of utterly brilliant applications such as Scrabble, Facebook and perhaps the best one, Pocket Lyrics. When I saw this in the app store I couldn't quite believe it, after all these years of Googling song words, here's a program that works through the iPod and brings up the lyrics of the song you are listening to.

Amazing huh?

As a very hard of hearing person who doesn't hear lyrics at all, this is the best thing since sliced bread! No more mumbling along to songs, I'll have the words right there! This means I can also find out if songs are full of swear words or inappropriare content before declaring to my grandma for example, that she simply must listen to my new favourite song.

It's made me wonder what other brilliant applications there are out there on the iPhone for deaf peeps...

So let me know what your favourites are!

And, what of the iPhone cons? Well, as I suspected I miss having real buttons to press as it's much easier to hit the wrong key on here, but mostly what bothers me is the battery life. Just writing this had used up 5%, and you can literally watch it diminish before your very eyes, even with 3G turned off, wireless turned off, location features turned off, everything turned off.

Indeed to have any sort of decent battery life on this phone, it seems you have to turn everything off, or sit by a plug socket at all times. But if you do that, is there any point in having an iPhone? Wouldn't it be better just to get a smartphone, which has a working battery? A Blackberry perhaps?

Even though my lovely old Pinkberry didn't have a virtual bin I could toss paper into, a lyrics application and fast Internet, I trusted it to last the day, I trusted the keys to input the letters I wanted, and I trusted it to be a phone, push me
my emails and surf the web without the battery draining faster than, erm... water down a plug hole.

It shocks me to say this, and I suspect as Snowboarding Boy reads this he'll be thinking 'I told you so' – but i miss Pinkberry.

Will she ever lose her crown of Best Mobile Phone Ever?

Thankful Friday

Phew, today is Thankful Friday!

Thank goodness!

After a week of being rushed off my feet, I am heading up norf to see The Rents and then on Sunday I am going to be a godmother – to Frenchie.

Frenchie is Northern Boy's little brother – he was born in France, by accident, in the summer and it's an honour to be able to have such an important role in his life.

This week sees the retirement of Pinkberry, too. It's the end of a very successful love affair that I wasn't all that happy to end – but with a shonky battery, even shonkier roller ball and general decripidness in every other area, I reckoned it was time for an upgrade.

And for once, I have followed the crowd – which I can guarantee Snowboarding Boy will not be happy about – I have ordered an iPhone!

I have to say, O2 have really improved in the 18 months since I last got an upgrade. You can now upgrade online, clicking buttons and selecting call plans and everything. You don't HAVE to make a single phone call, which from a deaf person's point of view is utterly brilliant. But it does mean the days of excessive haggling are most deafinitely over. But then with the iPhone, I don't think haggling is actually an option anyway!

If I am honest, I do have some reservations already – about the lack of keys, the durability of it in the hands of the world's clumsiest person, and the size of it, and of course that it's my first non-pink phone in quite some time.

But I will give this amazing popular gadget a go and see if I become a convert.

For me, what I look for in a phone these days is good access to text messaging, emails and internet, and on researching it, the iPhone really did seem to offer me all that. When asking AW, who has one, what he felt the cons were the other day, he simply replied that it wasn't very good as a phone. But a phone is the very last thing I need it as, so I guess that's alright.

I can only hope that I can resist from buying every application I come across – although I will almost certainly be buying Scrabble the moment the battery is charged.

The only thing that remains to be seen is how easy it is to blog from...

so I guess you'd better watch this space.

Amazing Amercian Idol subtitles!!!

One of the best things about having a recordable digital box thing is I get to record utter rubbish that I can then watch when I can't sleep.

Now, one of the utter rubbish things I've taken to recording recently is the American Idol audition shows...

It doesn’t require any thinking – just a little laughing, cringing and wondering why these people ever thought they had a chance.

And I'll tell you something else, the subtitles are absolutely brilliant because they describe how each of the contestants is singing. Yesterday I had, ‘With Focussed Power’, ‘Badly But Not As Bad As Last Year’, ‘Weak And Out Of Tune’, and my favourite of the episode... ‘Bellowing!’

To be fair, she really was bellowing – I had to adjust the sound on my TV as I was concerned people in Zone 3 would hear it and unsurprisingly, she got completely rejected by the judges.

But seriously, if the BBC had subtitles like this, my breakfast news viewing would be complete…

…or at least a lot more amusing.

Visiting Nelly Mac

Hurrah! I'm back after my long weekend off, and what a fabulous weekend it was!

Saturday saw a change of plans and presented the opportunity to feed my IKEA addiction, in preparation for my guests, and Saturday evening The Photographer and SuperCathyFragileMystic came over for dinner and we drank all the bubbles in my house...

…and as it's a new house and lots of lovely people have given me bubbles, there was rather a lot to get through.

SuperCathyFragileMystic has just bought a new place too – in fact she moved the very same weekend as me, although her new place is a gorgeous cottage in the Wild West erm... Country.

Speaking of the Wild West erm... Country – that was where I spent the remainder of my weekend with Nelly Mac and her family.

It was brilliant to see my Goddaughter again. She's nearly 4 years old, you know, and is deafinitely the most girly girl I have ever met.

Hurrah to that I say.

Her brother is the most boyish boy I've ever met, too. He likes breaking things, climbing things, and exploring. At nearly 2 years old, Nelly Mac's house is just one big source of adventure to him. Yesterday he tried to flood the kitchen and performed a super hero move from the bookcase!

Unfortunately though, everyone was sick. So the long weekend was cut short on Monday morning to allow Nelly Mac a kip on the sofa with antibiotics, and me time to get back to London and continue with my working on my flat – this home improvement thing is never ending.

And now, on this rainy Tuesday it's back to work, and today we have our office Christmas party.

Odd? Of course!

Fun? Most deafinitely!

Friday! Whoop!

Today, is Thankful Friday!

And I am especially thankful that I now have less than one week to wait for my sofa to arrive!

At the moment I have a lone armchair, donated kindly by London Aunt, but it's pretty hard to kick back and relax in, and I keep finding myself on the floor at the moment, either because I've slid out of it, or because it's just comfier.

Slowly but surely it's all coming together, and this morning when I woke up, I felt thankful that I have a whole weekend ahead in my lovely little flat.

Anyway, you've long-since been familiar with my rantings about the BBC subtitles and how rubbish they are on Breakfast News etc etc etc…

Well, this morning they were actually incredibly useful. There I was munching on my toasted crumpet when I heard Andy Murray's name. Oooh I thought, is this about who he's playing in the final of the Australian Open?

I looked at the screen for clues, and there was a cat, curled up on a blanket.

Bemused I read the subtitles, which of course were behind, being live, and sure enough, the story was about Andy Murray.

Was he playing a cat? As the first British player to get this far since 1977 or something, that would give him a sure-fire advantage.

But alas, for once the BBC had got the pictures wrong, not the subtitles.

It made a nice change…

Happy anniversary Big Bro and Maxi Clog

Today is a very special day...

It's Big Bro and Maxi Clog's 4-year wedding anniversary!

This time 4 years ago, we were in Holland on a freezing Saturday... And when I say freezing, it was actually 5 degrees below. But the sky was the bluest blue and the sun was shining and it really was a brilliant day.

The next day wasn't so brilliant seeing as at breakfast, where I was crying into my coffee with the worst hangover known to man, Pa tripped and went flying headlong into the bar of the hotel.

It's a vision I will never forget – his plate one way, his glass another, the cutlery flying into the air, and my Pa, hurtling through my line of vision in a Superman pose.

Of course, there was blood, and a very broken nose and eye socket. I have the pictures but they're not really for general consumption.

So anyway, where was I? Ah yes, happy thoughts, weddings... kittens and the fact that tomorrow is Friday!

Bring

It

On!

Running to work?!

OK, so no blog yesterday…

Why? Well I decided to walk to work, for the first time since I moved to my new area, so instead of being able to write on the bus, I was stomping through Hyde Park.

It's just under 5 miles, but doesn't seem that far, with lots of interesting things to look at, people to watch and fresh-ish air to inhale, so I think I'll start doing it regularly.

Recently, both GBman and Tigger have been trying to convince me to take up running. So maybe eventually, if I get give in and give it a go, I can run to work...

Ha!

I'm still traumatised by memories of running at school. While I excelled at swimming, hockey and rounders, running just wasn't on my radar. I didn't get it! In fact, so slow was I, that a teacher, called Hairy Chap, used to give me a piggy back around the course so that he wasn't home late for dinner with his wife.

Seeing how much Tigger loves it though, has inspired me! So maybe I'll persevere, run through my two-second wall of pain that I seem to hit just running for the bus!

I'll let you know how I get on...

Reggae Reggae Sauce for Big Bro

Phew, where did the weekend go?

Seems like only yesterday I was excitedly heading for Heathrow airport to meet Big Bro. And now he's back in Holland.

*sniff

We had a great weekend though, catching up, walking around the city, eating a delicious curry, meeting up with GBman and Swedish Girly, and getting muddy along the river path looking for the bridge that was, ‘just around the corner!’

In the end Big Bro got out TomTom on his iPhone, which proved the bridge was anything but just around the corner!

Cue, lots of slipping and sliding back along the river the way we came, with me wondering how I have lived here for seven years and not worked out the lack of bridges yet!

In the light of him not having English food readily available, I stocked up on his arrival with his favourite things:

Sausages, bacon, HP sauce, peanut butter, muffins, crumpets...

…and erm, at his request, Reggae Reggae Sauce!!

I tried to make him eat as much of the food as possible as I don't really have sausages and bacon – or Reggae Reggae Sauce on a regular basis, but there's still a fair amount left!

Looks like I'm having Reggae Reggae Sauce sausage casserole tonight then!

Big Bro – COME BACK PLEASE!

Big Bro's visit

Whoop! Today is Thankful Friday and I am incredibly thankful that my No-Snow Dance seems to have worked and therefore hopefully Big Bro should arrive in London today!

I am ridiculously happy about this as I haven't seen him since August, and he's yet to see my new flat either.

Now I just have to count down the hours until I meet him at Heathrow, hope that 40 people don't suddenly want his flight – he's on standby and there are currently that many free seats – and keep my fingers crossed that a freak weather front doesn't suddenly surround the UK.

Positive thinking... I think.

I am also thankful for the fact that I've finally claimed my prize for being the Ultimate Summer Insider – my trip to Barcelona!

London Aunt and I are going and the prize value means we've got a 5* hotel in the best area, frilly flights with BA, and because that's all free, it'll mean we'll actually have the budget to enjoy ourselves, too.

I went to Barcelona last April with Miss K and loved it. Thanks to her expert knowledge of the city, I now feel as though I know my way around a bit, too.

Just gotta try and remember how to find the Absinthe bar...

*heehee

Commuting frustration

My commute descended into hell this morning after some STOOPID utilities company really decided to put a spanner in the works and totally stuff up one of the busiest sections of road in west London.

Bus stops were closed and there were angry scenes where commuters, who couldn’t read the ‘bus stop closed’ sign, shook their fists at buses that weren’t stopping, but then, still continued to wait there. And, for some unknown reason, my bus decided to block the entire road for everyone, and caused an even bigger hold up, with horns honking, hands waving, fists shaking… and then, he drove into a tree!

It was bedlam!

Seriously, I couldn’t have made it up if I’d wanted to!

And the worst part?

This is going to go on for another 2 months!

*argggggghhhhhhhhhhh

Yesterday, while driving through the roadworks myself, four cars in front of me went through a red light. When our lights changed to green, we were faced with another four cars flying at us from the other direction who clearly couldn’t be bothered to wait at their red light.

The roadworks are so frustrating and the hold-ups are so big, that they are causing people to behave insanely irrationally – it really is an accident waiting to happen.

I can’t take it anymore, I need to complain to someone...

So if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find them...

The pianist who made me forget I was deaf

Well, it is now Wednesday – and, as ordered by Big Bro, I am doing my anti Snow Dance at every available opportunity.

No SNOW I say! NO SNOW!

Anyway, last night Pa came down to London and we went to see Cedric Tiberghien in concert at the Queen Elizabeth Hall on the Southbank.

Brilliant!

In fact, it was, without a doubt, one of the best piano recitals I have been to for quite some time – Sorry Imo (gen Cooper) – and I was clearly not alone in thinking that. Sat beside Pa and I was a group of screaming fans – at a piano recital!!!!

What struck me first of all about Cedric Tiberghien, was that in the last five years – since I last saw him play at the Wigmore Hall – how much he seems to have grown, in my eyes anyway! He dwarfed the Steinway Grand and once seated reminded me of Shroeder, the piano player and Lucy’s love interest, from Peanuts – knees bent right up and back arched over the keyboard.

The second thing that struck me was how he appeared to be slow dancing with the piano, right there on stage. He seemed to be caressing the keys – teasing out beautiful melodies with ease.

The opening piece – by Chopin – was undoubtably the best. But the programme, entirely made up of Polish composers and mostly Mazurkas was utterly captivating.

Pa was worried about how much of it I had heard, as Tiberghien’s touch really is light, but I felt as though I heard it all. My seat did indeed allow me to key-read the high bits but the jaunty left hand carried me through any out-of-frequency sections with such ease that I completely forgot I was deaf.

And if a pianist to make me forget that – well, he must have been good!

Key-reading the piano

Hurrah! Today us Tuesday! And that means Pa is coming to visit.

Being a super-clever music man, he's always interested in what's going on concert-wise in London... And now I've got a 2-bed flat, it means he can drive down and not have to drive back the same day.

We usually go and see Imogen Cooper, as she's his favourite, and fast becoming mine actually, but having seen her last month, we're going to see someone else tonight.

Pa always buys tickets with a view of the keyboard end of the piano, which is really good for me because it means I can key-read the music.

When it goes out of my frequency, I simple watch the fingers, how fast they're moving, what keys they're on, and that enables me to follow the music better.

I think that's why prefer piano music to anything else. I once went to see a load of violins playing Vivaldi, and there was no hope of string-reading them. It was like watching a silent movie – all action, no sound!

Never again!

I've learnt I simply have to be choosy about what I go and listen to now. It's either got to be low, or contain instruments I can read when they go out of my frequency, like the piano.

Anyone know of any double bass recitals coming up?

Hearing my heating

Well, I can officially say, if I never pull another staple out of a floorboard it'll be too soon.

This weekend was Operation Shut Heating Up and it was totally knackering.

Blanco did an amazing job, and there really aren't enough thank yous for him, for hammering in what must have been 200 tacks to secure my hardboard floor, at 7pm, after a day of ripping it all up.

And the result?

Well, it seems to be quiet.

And if anyone else dares complain about it, then they can pay the carpet man obscene amounts of money to pull my carpet up then return to put it down and be exceptionally rude at the same time. They can rip the skin off their knuckles pulling out staples, move the entire contents of my bedroom – and I have a lot of shoes – and have hips that feel like they've done a million can-can kicks, because I am not doing it again.

In all fairness, she was gushingly grateful when I saw her yesterday. This on-going problem with the noise has spanned a decade, and when you picture the timescale, you can kind of understand her desperation.

But then I can understand my desperation, too. My desperation to make it stop, the nagging – I mean.

So yesterday, I got up at 7am, when my heating was due to come on, and sat on my little IKEA stool, a long piece of wood attached to my ear, the other pressed against the flow pipe on my radiator, listening!

This, for all my deafness, was a very good conductor of sound. So good in fact, that I could actually hear the rushing of the water – and nothing else.

Amazing!

Anyway changing the subject slightly, today I am doing my ‘No Snow’ dance as Big Bro is going to try for a second time to visit me at the weekend!

When the forecaster started blabbering on about snow this morning, I was furious. To ruin one visit from Big Bro is bad enough, but to ruin two, well that's just plain rude.

So I guess I'm just going to have to watch this space and keep everything crossed not only for the weather to stay calm, but that Operation Shut Heating Up has been a success, too.

It's Friday!!!!!!

Today is Thankful Friday, and seeing as it's felt like Friday all week, it couldn't have come soon enough!

Today I am thankful for two things.

Firstly that it is my Big Boss's birthday tomorrow, as it meant I got to make cupcakes to celebrate. I'm working on a new design at the moment... so hopefully it'll go down well.

Secondly I am thankful that tomorrow I will hopefully fix the noisy pipes issue!

YAY!

If we manage it, it will change my life!

If we don't manage it...

Well, my neighbour is just going to have go deaf!

Waiting for Friday…

Every single day this week, I've woken up thinking it was Friday, and today's been no different.

But at least today it's almost Friday...

Almost the weekend...

Which looks set to be another one of DIY – to try and fix my heating.

And on Sunday, I have a date!

*blush

Must remember not to talk about the DIY too much or else he's gonna think I'm Wendy out of Bob The Builder, or erm, something.

So it looks set to be a varied weekend.

Hopefully snow free, and hopefully a success in all areas.

Not hearing at the pub quiz

Today I woke up to a thick blanket of white enveloping my little area of west London.

It was perfect, thick, white sticky snow.

All ideal conditions to wake up to on the weekend. But not on a Wednesday when work is a priority.

So anyway, I made my way to the bus stop, slipping and sliding with the other commuters and waited.

The traffic was busy, the snow was coming down and some poor lady's car decided now was the perfect time to break down. Right by our bus stop.

So a couple of us stepped in to push it to the side of the road for her. Except she got out to push, too.

And left the handbrake on. So it wouldn't move.

Then she took the handbrake off but didn't get back in. So we pushed it without anyone steering or being in control of the brakes!

*Eek

Anyway, it all turned out fine and I am now on my bus into town.

I have no idea what the weather is like at this very moment as the bus is so steamed up it's impossible to tell. But fingers crossed my journey will be trouble free.

Anyway last night, I ventured out to see Gingerbread Man and Swedish Girly. We just went to our local pub as I've not been feeling fabulous recently, and had a post-New-Year catch up.

While there, a guy came around asking people if they wanted to enter the quiz. Why not? We thought, with GBman promising to relay the questions to me.

Round 1 however was a complete disaster! It was excerpts from radio shows and by listening to the voice and subject matter, you had to guess who it was! Erm...

Well, as you can guess I was a whole lot of use! But then GBman went and spoke to the quiz master who offered to play it to me with headphones on the MP3 player.

I didn't have the heart to tell him it wouldn't help that much but did it anyway, with GBman sharing them to see if we could get a better idea. And he did, which was a relief.

And do you know what? We did OK in the quiz... we didn't win, but we were only 6 points behind the winner, partly due to our appalling knowledge of rap songs and English bands...

And in spite of me not being able to hear anything, we had a very successful relay of questions going on, and I think I may have even helped get a few of them right...

What's more, I had a great time, which I never normally associate with pub quizzes. I mean, I know a lot of useless information, but it's the hearing bit I fall down on.

So, bring on the next one I say!

DG's Tuesday rant!

Today, I am sat on the bus being driven slightly insane by the man sat next to me.

He’s talking very loudly on his mobile phone, smells atrocious and keeps scratching himself in unmentionable places.

It’s making me wish I was hurtling along on the underground, and that’s quite something, as I bloomin’ hate the thing!

Another thing that’s making me wish I was on the underground is the number of New Year road works that have popped up around the capital – they are driving me insane, as nothing can actually drive.

It’s been in the news a lot lately how apparently this is all Thatcher’s fault...

Something to do with privatisation in the 80s and giving firms way too much power to just go digging up roads.

But what I don’t understand is why are people wasting time blaming someone who hasn’t been in charge for a good many years, instead of making changes. If Thatcher had the power to change stuff, doesn’t our current Government have the power to change stuff back?

London Aunt once said to me that in the time that you can moan about something, you can probably have fixed the thing you’re moaning about. And although when applying this to laws, Government and local authorities, it’s a bit more complicated than that, but surely it’s a start? No?

So Boris Johnson knows why the roads are being dug up, but what’s he doing about making it more organised and less disruptive? In last night’s Evening Standard, all he did was say how frustrating he was by the texts from his mates moaning about delays...

Well imagine my frustration that this is the only thing about the situation that seemingly bothers him! Right now, I am stuck in stationary traffic due to road works. I have a mad man who is shouting down the phone and still seems to have an unspeakable itch, and I have a headache from hearing his voice droning on and on and on. And I am deaf!

So Boris, while I don’t have your mobile number to text you direct, if you’re reading, please ban talking on mobiles on buses, road works during rush hour – or road works full stop (or at least get the utility companies to coordinate when they’re digging up the roads) – and this one just in, people who park in the bus lane.

Thank you, thank you very much!

Deafproofing my new flat

Today, is Monday...

Boo Hiss!

I wish it was the weekend already again, mostly so I could sleep and erm... sleep.

I've been really exhausted lately and not for any obvious reason either. I've never been a big fan of sleep but recently I find myself almost craving it.

This morning, as I write this on my bus journey to work, I just want to lie down on the seats and snooze, except I can't because it's full. How inconvenient!

Anyway, what is making me smile this week is my Digital Hard Drive thingymajig that The Rents gave me for Christmas. The idea that I can record stuff with the subtitles is AMAZING to me, and the novelty has yet to wear off.

Right now, I swear I get as much enjoyment pressing record as I do watching the stuff. In all honesty, I don't really have time to watch the stuff, but who cares... I have programmes recorded with subtitles on my Digital Hard Drive thingymajig.

It’s making me wonder why on earth I waited so long to buy one.

On another positive note, I've also set the wheels in motion to sorting out a flashing fire alarm for my flat. After the incident at my last place when my drunken neighbours set fire to their kitchen, I’m taking no chances and right now, my piddly smoke alarm would be wasted on me.

I’ve been looking at all the ones available and have decided I want one that involves the least drilling – as I’m still not very good at that. Having said that, this weekend I did have a DIY lesson with Blanco on how to plane doors – although I didn’t actually volunteer to do anything more complicated than hold the doors and swish them backwards and forwards in amazement once they were done.

Don’t get me wrong, I like the idea of DIY – but I’m not always very good at it. Take the drilling for instance. When I first inherited London Uncle’s electric drill, I excitedly attempted to put up a curtain pole above my window. I pressed the drill button and the force almost knocked me off the step ladder, and then the drill proceeded to bounce it’s way across the wall, me in tow, making dent after dent, until I eventually engaged my brain and let go of the power button.

*blush

Then, take the time the washing machine stopped working properly. It wouldn’t drain, so when it went into a spin cycle, it sounded like there was a small person in there fighting to get out.

So I took it apart… and flooded the kitchen, three times in the process of trying to put it back together again.

The list actually goes on, but I’m going to stop there… for now.

I’ve actually emailed London Fire Brigade to see if they’ll come and fit my alarm, as I’ve read that sometimes they do.

Of course this has nothing to do with an big red fire engine of burly men turning up at my flat, or the uniform… or

Right, time to stop talking I think!

It's Thankful Friday

Hurrah! Today us Thankful Friday and today I am thankful quite simply that it is almost the weekend.

I've got a fun one planned with a little bit of practicality thrown in. Wise Friend is coming to see my flat before his impending move to Canada and Blanco is coming to plane my doors, off the hinges, as despite me thinking you could saw bits off them on the hinges, you can't!

DIY and I are fairly new friends you see!

Anyway, today's cold snap and a lovely email from a Norglish girl yesterday has got me thinking about the state we're in during this cold snap and whether the UK will evolve from this more able to cope...

But before I can answer that I guess I need to go away and find out what we need to cope...

How do snowy places keep their runways clear? Their roads de-iced OR their vehicles equipped to deal with ice?

How to trains run in 40inches of snow at minus 30 degrees without breaking?

And how much would it cost to fix this all in the UK and at the same time make sure they could also cope with the baking summers that also cause delays?!

Time to hit Google I think...

After I've warmed up my hands enough to type again!

Thinking about this cold spell

Yesterday, after watching the snowflakes hurtle down at quite an alarming rate in central London, our office was shut early and we got sent home.

Today, there are no snowflakes, but instead, an icy sheen on the pavements, empty gritters passing by my bus, and people taking baby steps as they make their way to work.

Today I am wearing socks with toes, to see if that makes a difference to my freezing feet and, as I dashed out the door, I thrust on a red fleecy neck gaiter that comes right up over my nose. I look a little bonkers but I don't care, I'm warm.

Throughout the UK, everything is broken because of the snow. Flights are cancelled, roads are closed, and schools are shut. And it got me thinking, how do they do it in countries that are always this cold? I mean, schools can't always be shut can they? And there are flights in and out of snowy places all the time.

If this cold Artic winter is set to be a trend over here for many years to come, or indeed as Pa say, the next Ice Age is coming, then perhaps we should have a rethink about who's in charge here. For the next general election, let's get a Canadian running, let's have an Icelandic Mayor (are we speaking to each other yet?) and let's have our train companies run by people from the Trans Siberian Railway.

Of course, I am purely speculating for fun and this probably isn't a very good idea.

But things can't get any worse, can they?

So surely anything's worth a try.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

All around the UK this morning there's chaos caused by snow...

Just up the M40, High Wycombe has seen 20cm of snow, and motorists were forced to sleep on the A3 after terrible weather there.

And here in our little micro climate of zone 2? Snow? What snow?! OK, so there's a small smattering on the ground, and the overland tube near me has stopped working, but apart from that, it's like any other normal day, except I left for work early as the BBC led me to believe conditions were apocalyptic.

And, I'm sure they are in some places, just not here.

Regular readers will remember that last time London has loads of snow, Jenny M and I ended up making tea and coffee for 26 stranded bus drivers on the Fulham Road. It was brilliant fun as apart from the frustrations of being stuck, the atmosphere was quite party like.

I know I wasn't alone in hoping for a similar scenario today, where the weather is so bad you can't get into work, not where the weather gets so bad during the day, you can't get home from work, which according to the BBC is a much more likely scenario.

And so, I'm equipped. As my fellow Blogger Miss Brodie says of herself, "I'm an Inuit", that's exactly the look I'm going for today, because if I do get stuck in London and am forced to walk home, I wanna be warm in the process.

So with 6 layers, a giant bobble hat, reindeer gloves and big boots, I'm on my way. Beside me is a woman wearing 3inch heels and a very fashionable coat...

I feel ridiculous, so it better jolly well snow now!

Hearing teeth chatter

OK, I know I talk about the weather a lot, but it's utterly freezing at the moment!

Friends in the Norf are already reporting the snow that's due to hit the capital later today, but all this cold weather is bothering me.

You see, if it continues, then Friend Who Knows Big Words might postpone her return from Vietnam, and that would be a disaster.

In fact, she's just this minute texted me to let me know it's 34 degrees and sunny in Ho Chi Minh City, and ordered me to sort out the weather and demanding a balmy spring. Here's hoping eh?!

Anyway, the noisy heating saga continues. The noise is apparently intolerable downstairs, but inaudible upstairs – even to non deaf people!

Blanco has very kindly offered to accompany downstairs this weekend to have a listen, so we can hear for ourselves if there's a newborn foal living in my pipes.

It's insanely frustrating to deal with, but in the grand scheme of things it could be worse!

I mean, I could have no heating rather than heating that's allegedly noisy – and that would not only be expensive but rather hideous, too...

And on the subject of no heating, my new bus route to work has just that!

When I went on it in the summer, after visiting London Aunt, it was boiling, with hot air streaming through the heating vents.

And today? Nothing!

I'm sure there's a logical explanation such as in summer the hot air is channelled away from the engine to keep it cool or something, but it seems a little bonkers that in summer we're baked, and in winter we're transported in something the resembles a supermarket chiller cabinet.

Seriously, there's a man next to me, and his teeth are chattering, audibly! And if I can hear it, it must be bad!!!!

Deaf hip hop!

Whoop, today I am going back to work after a rather long break, and I can't wait.

OK, so I would have liked to stay in bed longer, but with a welcoming blue sky and sunshine outside the window, I felt inspired to start the day with a spring in my step, which I certainly did when I stepped outside and realised it was more than just a little freezing!!!!

Anyway, yesterday I went to see a brilliant hip hop show at The Barbican called Pied Piper and I absolutely loved it. It was especially good because, being a dance show, I didn't need to hear anything, although I did hear the thumping bass quite a lot.

It helped cement my New Year's resolution to get out there and see more visual theatre, to make the arts work for me, rather than lament when things aren't subtitled.

There's another dance show taking place on the South Bank that I've heard about... I'll go there next I think!

Happy New Year from DG

Whoop! Today is 31 December 2009 - the last new year's eve of this decade and the last day of what has been a pretty eventful year.

Today's blog comes live from Portsmouth, my old university town, where I am preparing to celebrate with climbing club mates.

At the bottom of Penfold's garden is a shallow grave, and in it, a suckling pig is being roasted... or at least it should have been, except it went wrong so after a quick trip to Asda, we now have the suckling pig, take 2!!

I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be to tell you the truth - these guys have been a part of my life for the last 10 years and I can't imagine life without them. From Onion Soup Mate and G, to Tigger and Mrs Tigger, and of course Mr and Mrs Penfold, just thinking about them all makes me smile.

And what of my resolutions for 2010? Well, last year, I made a prediction that by this time I would have my own flat, which I do. I also said there'd be a rugged man in my kitchen, which there isn't - unless you count the plumber... but he wasn't really my type.

So, this year...

Well, I think it's going to be about setting down roots in my new neighbourhood - I'm going to find a yoga class, which is apparently good for Crohn's, although hopefully it'll be deaf friendly, I'm going to learn Latin, because it's totally pointless on the surface but actually provides the building blocks to lots of other languages, and I'm going to find my rugged man for my kitchen...

and if he's lucky, I might show him some other rooms, too!

And that's it really...

All that's left is to wish you all a very Happy New Year and best wishes for 2010.

And now, well I'm just off to open the champagne!

Merry Christmas from DG

Merry Christmas!

There should have been a post yesterday, but Ma decided to hoover the study and start tidying in here just as I began typing, and seeing as the Dyson is perfectly in my hearing frequency, I had to give up as my little brain was quite kerfuddled.

It's amazing to think how quickly it seems to be Christmas again. This time last year, I was blogging from the snowy mountains in France - and yet it seems like yesterday.

I've just enjoyed a rare video call with Big Bro and his family of Clogs in Clogland. It was so wonderful to see them all on screen - my only hope is that one day The Rents will get an internet connection that's fast enough to enable me to lipread, too. But it's great to at least be able to see facial expressions and all of Mini Clog's presents, which he excitedly showed to us.

Speaking of presents, I did rather well myself, with lots of red kitchen accessories for my new kitchen, and more than a few cupcake-themed bits and bobs for my new flat - I shall need a removal van to get it all down to London.

Big Bro also sent over two jars of Speculoos Paste! Yumski!

One of them is crunchy and I am going to add some of it to the butter icing for the cupcakes I'm making for New Year's Eve...

Maybe I should just make some for today, too!

Happy Christmas DG readers, hope you're having a great one.

x

Hi honey, I'm back!

Phew, is this Deafinitely Girly's longest silence ever?

Seeing as I am not the silent type - in writing, or in person - this whole week off blogging has been a little out of character, I admit. But Deafinitely Girly has been a little bit preoccupied.

You see, when I was diagnosed with Crohn's the other week, I found myself with writer's block. It took me back 20 years to when I was told I was deaf. And then, 14 years when I was told I was going deafer. This kind of news always makes me go quiet.

Then, last week I had an unspeakable camera procedure - my insides made their TV debut - they insisted on starving themselves for 2 days so they looked their very best for the occasion, and so I spent the later half of the week eating delicious food to make up for the lack of eating forced upon me - and as a result there was very little time to blog.

And what of yesterday? I hear you ask...

Weeeee-eeeeell, there was snow yesterday, and London Cousins 1 and 2 asked me to get the sledges out of the garage - and really, it would be a shame to get them out and then not check they worked OK, so erm... yesterday was largely spent flying down a hill on a bright orange piece of plastic.

But today, there is no excuse. Over the last week, I've tried out all my favourite foods and drink on my Crohn's and it seems to be holding out OK - so I am feeling positive that I will still be able to munch my way through a Cadbury's Selection Box on Christmas Day, and so, seeing as food is the second most important thing in my life, I've got absolutely NOTHING to moan about, or cause writer's block - so Deafinitely Girly is back!

See you tomorrow!