Today is Thankful Friday and I am extremely thankful that Tigger is coming to stay. I haven't seen him for absolutely ages so it'll be good to catch up. Plus we have our run on Sunday!
What I am not thankful for is Sunday's weather forecast! Rain and wind! Gah, not exactly optimum conditions for my first running race ever.
But it'll be an experience no matter what, I'm sure!
Anyway, isn’t it lovely that we’ve got a nice long weekend coming up, and that it’s payday today. This month has been expensive – I spent £300 on broken things in my flat, which is half the price of a Mulberry handbag. Although now I am a house owner, I should probably stop pricing things against Mulberry handbags, seeing as I will never be able to buy one ever again.
Next on my expenditure list is sorting out my windows. In typical London fashion, I have single-glazed sash windows, which while beautiful, are somewhat on their last legs. Several have broken panes and all of them could do with bits replacing. Ideally I would like wooden ones with double-glazing in, so they’d be energy efficient and safe, too. But I think that’d be several dozen Mulberry handbags, so I might just have to make do with face-lifting the existing ones.
Part of me wanting better windows is a safety thing – you see, sash windows just don’t seem very burglar proof, and after spending vast amounts turning my door into the equivalent of Fort Knox, it seems bizarre that the rest of my house is protected by single glazing and rotting wood.
This all hit home this week when my neighbour emailed me to say she had caught some men with a ladder in our garden. I freaked out, partly because I worry whether, if someone broke into my flat, I would hear them? And once they were in, would they ever be able to get out my Fort Knox of a front door?
I had one sleepless night over it. And then I pulled myself together and reminded myself that I keep my toolbox under my bed – the obvious place for such a thing don’t you think? – and in that toolbox is a very large wooden mallet.
I slept well last night.
Friday, 30 April 2010
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
Running with music
So the countdown is almost at an end – my run is almost here!
*eek
Actually, in a weird way, I'm looking forward to seeing if all this training has paid off. This morning's run would imply that it has, as I didn't get tired until right at the end of my 30 minute jaunt, and before I started this running lark, I couldn't even run for a bus without getting uncontrollably out of breath.
It really is amazing, and quite satisfying, too.
Anyway, today I tried something new and different on my run. I tried running with my iPhone playing music. Now, it was quite good, except that I didn’t have a playlist and so hitting shuffle meant that any old song could pop up at any time and these were not always best suited to pounding the pavements.
What I also struggled with was actually hearing it, above the sound of the traffic and general rush-hour din. I never listen to my iPod in public places for this exact reason – for instance, on the bus, I would have to have it on full volume just to get the bass, and I’d be one of those people on the posters being inconsiderate about my music. Except I wouldn’t be being deliberately inconsiderate, I’d just be trying to hear the bloomin’ thing.
So where, was I, erm… yes I didn’t really hear much of it. I’d miss the first minute of the song and then finally get the bass line and realise what I was listening to, and then my head would make up the rest. And because my head was so busy making up music it forgot that it was running and the whole thing flew by.
Not quite the point of running with music, but if it works, I’m not complaining. I do however, need to source some bass-heavy music to run to so that I can actually hear it all the way.
Time to get Pa to dig out his Napalm Death album I think.
*eek
Actually, in a weird way, I'm looking forward to seeing if all this training has paid off. This morning's run would imply that it has, as I didn't get tired until right at the end of my 30 minute jaunt, and before I started this running lark, I couldn't even run for a bus without getting uncontrollably out of breath.
It really is amazing, and quite satisfying, too.
Anyway, today I tried something new and different on my run. I tried running with my iPhone playing music. Now, it was quite good, except that I didn’t have a playlist and so hitting shuffle meant that any old song could pop up at any time and these were not always best suited to pounding the pavements.
What I also struggled with was actually hearing it, above the sound of the traffic and general rush-hour din. I never listen to my iPod in public places for this exact reason – for instance, on the bus, I would have to have it on full volume just to get the bass, and I’d be one of those people on the posters being inconsiderate about my music. Except I wouldn’t be being deliberately inconsiderate, I’d just be trying to hear the bloomin’ thing.
So where, was I, erm… yes I didn’t really hear much of it. I’d miss the first minute of the song and then finally get the bass line and realise what I was listening to, and then my head would make up the rest. And because my head was so busy making up music it forgot that it was running and the whole thing flew by.
Not quite the point of running with music, but if it works, I’m not complaining. I do however, need to source some bass-heavy music to run to so that I can actually hear it all the way.
Time to get Pa to dig out his Napalm Death album I think.
Monday, 26 April 2010
Happy 2nd Birthday to MEEEEEEEEEE (DG)
Guess what?
I forgot my own birthday!
Deafinitely Girly's second birthday to be precise!
It was on Friday, but I was so flustered from sleeping in, I forgot and nattered on about Thankful Friday instead. But then, I had a lovely comment from a reader who reminded me it was my birthday and also said great things about my blog!
*big grin
Looking back, it's hard to believe this of started two years ago, and that I've more or less blogged every week day since 23 April 2008 – give or take hospital visits, hangovers and holidays.
What on earth have I had to say?
Let's have a review shall we!
Well, in the beginning I addressed my past. From going deaf to boy struggles – I recounted the stories that had shaped me, blown my embarrassment factor out of the water and given me something to say in the first place.
Then where was my Down-On-The-BBC era, which lasted a long time and to be fair, was quite justified as the subtitles are often rubbish during important things like the news and Top Gear.
In these two years I've had over 18,000 hits and more if you count the ones through Deaf Read that don't register on my hit counter.
I've also got a column in Hearing Times, which I love writing, and my Superdrugloves.com blog, which has caused my make-up bag to double in size since last summer when I won the competition to be the Ultimate Summer Insider, and has seen me jet of to Barcelona on an amazing 5-star weekend away with London Aunt.
But perhaps the biggest change is me. I feel older and wiser, more proactive about my deafness – ready to fight the battles worth fighting and quietly ignore the ones I’ll never win. I've come to learn over the last two years that some people are not worth the hassle and some people are more than worth the hassle. I now know that some people will never learn about my deafness and some people will actually know more than me, teaching me in their own unique way how to do more than just ‘get by’ and instead get out there and grab every opportunity that arises.
Deafinitely Girly has put me in touch with amazing people from all over the world and reconnected me with people from my past.
But most importantly, she's helped me be me. To get it all out, and put fingers to keyboard about what I'm really thinking. It’s amazingly therapeutic, and when I have sad, bad or mad days, the support that comes flooding in really is overwhelming.
Just last night, I was watching a recording of Young Musician of the Year. It was the strings final and as a kid, I always used to watch this with The Rents. But this time around, I couldn’t hear anything. Nada – not a pip, squeak or scrape for most of the performances, with the exception of some low bits from the harpists.
Now pre-DG, I wouldn’t have known how to deal with this and would have probably felt rather sad for the remainder of the evening. But last night, I simply fast-forwarded the bits I couldn’t hear and enjoyed the interviews with the performers instead.
I dealt with it in a positive manner, and not only got on with it, but enjoyed it, too, rather than dwelling on what I couldn’t have.
And that’s what I’ve learnt from DG in the last two years – she’s made me happy to be me.
Which, really, can only be a good thing.
Now, it’s time to bake that birthday cake I think!
I forgot my own birthday!
Deafinitely Girly's second birthday to be precise!
It was on Friday, but I was so flustered from sleeping in, I forgot and nattered on about Thankful Friday instead. But then, I had a lovely comment from a reader who reminded me it was my birthday and also said great things about my blog!
*big grin
Looking back, it's hard to believe this of started two years ago, and that I've more or less blogged every week day since 23 April 2008 – give or take hospital visits, hangovers and holidays.
What on earth have I had to say?
Let's have a review shall we!
Well, in the beginning I addressed my past. From going deaf to boy struggles – I recounted the stories that had shaped me, blown my embarrassment factor out of the water and given me something to say in the first place.
Then where was my Down-On-The-BBC era, which lasted a long time and to be fair, was quite justified as the subtitles are often rubbish during important things like the news and Top Gear.
In these two years I've had over 18,000 hits and more if you count the ones through Deaf Read that don't register on my hit counter.
I've also got a column in Hearing Times, which I love writing, and my Superdrugloves.com blog, which has caused my make-up bag to double in size since last summer when I won the competition to be the Ultimate Summer Insider, and has seen me jet of to Barcelona on an amazing 5-star weekend away with London Aunt.
But perhaps the biggest change is me. I feel older and wiser, more proactive about my deafness – ready to fight the battles worth fighting and quietly ignore the ones I’ll never win. I've come to learn over the last two years that some people are not worth the hassle and some people are more than worth the hassle. I now know that some people will never learn about my deafness and some people will actually know more than me, teaching me in their own unique way how to do more than just ‘get by’ and instead get out there and grab every opportunity that arises.
Deafinitely Girly has put me in touch with amazing people from all over the world and reconnected me with people from my past.
But most importantly, she's helped me be me. To get it all out, and put fingers to keyboard about what I'm really thinking. It’s amazingly therapeutic, and when I have sad, bad or mad days, the support that comes flooding in really is overwhelming.
Just last night, I was watching a recording of Young Musician of the Year. It was the strings final and as a kid, I always used to watch this with The Rents. But this time around, I couldn’t hear anything. Nada – not a pip, squeak or scrape for most of the performances, with the exception of some low bits from the harpists.
Now pre-DG, I wouldn’t have known how to deal with this and would have probably felt rather sad for the remainder of the evening. But last night, I simply fast-forwarded the bits I couldn’t hear and enjoyed the interviews with the performers instead.
I dealt with it in a positive manner, and not only got on with it, but enjoyed it, too, rather than dwelling on what I couldn’t have.
And that’s what I’ve learnt from DG in the last two years – she’s made me happy to be me.
Which, really, can only be a good thing.
Now, it’s time to bake that birthday cake I think!
Friday, 23 April 2010
Sleeping through my vibrating alarm clock
Today is Thankful Friday and I'm extremely thankful that I woke up at 8.15, just 10 minutes before the latest time I can leave the house for work. Any later and I would have been stuffed, but 10 minutes was enough time to throw on clothes, eat toothpaste and even watch a cat fall out of a tree, but that's a whole other story…
I am quite amazed though, that I managed to sleep through two vibrating alarms without even stirring.0
I must be shattered!
Anyway, today I am also thankful that my toilet is fixed – unfortunately however, my boiler is not.
You see, my foolproof plan of photos and arrows that I sent to the plumbing company, was not so foolproof! The lady who I emailed, ordered the wrong part, in spite of the fact that I checked with her that she had all the information she needed from me.
Gah!
But I'm getting there gradually with this home-fixing lark, and next time I'll just make sure I send detailed descriptions as well as photos, so that people know what I'm talking about.
The plumbing company, to be fair, were lovely about it. They texted me about things instead of calling and were very apologetic. But all that doesn't fix my heating.
*Sniff
But that's quite enough about that.
I'm off to enjoy my Friday. Hope you do, too.
I am quite amazed though, that I managed to sleep through two vibrating alarms without even stirring.0
I must be shattered!
Anyway, today I am also thankful that my toilet is fixed – unfortunately however, my boiler is not.
You see, my foolproof plan of photos and arrows that I sent to the plumbing company, was not so foolproof! The lady who I emailed, ordered the wrong part, in spite of the fact that I checked with her that she had all the information she needed from me.
Gah!
But I'm getting there gradually with this home-fixing lark, and next time I'll just make sure I send detailed descriptions as well as photos, so that people know what I'm talking about.
The plumbing company, to be fair, were lovely about it. They texted me about things instead of calling and were very apologetic. But all that doesn't fix my heating.
*Sniff
But that's quite enough about that.
I'm off to enjoy my Friday. Hope you do, too.
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
Deafinitely Girly's political musings
I'm having a weird week for lots of reasons.
It's hard to describe why. I've laughed and cried in equal measures – possible more than any other week this year.
I'm exhausted and exhilarated.
Anyway, I saw Gingerbread Man this week and he commented on the fact that I never talk about politics and the forthcoming General Election on my blog. I pondered as to why this was, and realised, shockingly, that it's because I don't know enough about it to comment in depth.
So yesterday, I sat through a Lib Dem party political broadcast – the one where Nick Clegg is walking in various locations surrounded by hundreds of sheets of paper.
‘Must pay attention,’ I thought to myself, and then I began to wonder whether they cleaned all the paper up afterwards or if they'd done a fancy camera trick to get it there.
‘Focus!’ I chided myself, and began to read the subtitles.
It has to be said that Nick Clegg gave a lovely speech. He uttered inspiring things about tax, education and the banks having to pay for the mess they make.
But then I remembered something Gingerbread Man said about how even if the Lib Dems come 2nd in the election and beat Labour, Labour will still have more seats than the Lib Dems because of way our system works.
And that naturally makes you think, what's the point? And I don’t think I'm alone in having this thought process.
When I read about the political parties' aims if they got into power, I don't believe them anymore. I don't believe that once they'd got in, the stuff that made people vote them in, would get done. And I believe that of all the parties.
Which once again begs the question, what's the point?
But then, even in my political ignorance, I’ve concluded that there is a point, and I will vote for someone and encourage my discouraged friends to put crosses in boxes, too. Because if we don't vote, then there's a chance that other parties, with even less honourable intentions than the three main ones, will gain more say in how this country is run, and that really might not be a good thing.
So that's it. That's my one and only, and quite frankly not very informative political musing.
Now I'm going to go back to wondering just how Nick Clegg cleaned up all that paper in his party political broadcast.
It's hard to describe why. I've laughed and cried in equal measures – possible more than any other week this year.
I'm exhausted and exhilarated.
Anyway, I saw Gingerbread Man this week and he commented on the fact that I never talk about politics and the forthcoming General Election on my blog. I pondered as to why this was, and realised, shockingly, that it's because I don't know enough about it to comment in depth.
So yesterday, I sat through a Lib Dem party political broadcast – the one where Nick Clegg is walking in various locations surrounded by hundreds of sheets of paper.
‘Must pay attention,’ I thought to myself, and then I began to wonder whether they cleaned all the paper up afterwards or if they'd done a fancy camera trick to get it there.
‘Focus!’ I chided myself, and began to read the subtitles.
It has to be said that Nick Clegg gave a lovely speech. He uttered inspiring things about tax, education and the banks having to pay for the mess they make.
But then I remembered something Gingerbread Man said about how even if the Lib Dems come 2nd in the election and beat Labour, Labour will still have more seats than the Lib Dems because of way our system works.
And that naturally makes you think, what's the point? And I don’t think I'm alone in having this thought process.
When I read about the political parties' aims if they got into power, I don't believe them anymore. I don't believe that once they'd got in, the stuff that made people vote them in, would get done. And I believe that of all the parties.
Which once again begs the question, what's the point?
But then, even in my political ignorance, I’ve concluded that there is a point, and I will vote for someone and encourage my discouraged friends to put crosses in boxes, too. Because if we don't vote, then there's a chance that other parties, with even less honourable intentions than the three main ones, will gain more say in how this country is run, and that really might not be a good thing.
So that's it. That's my one and only, and quite frankly not very informative political musing.
Now I'm going to go back to wondering just how Nick Clegg cleaned up all that paper in his party political broadcast.
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
Cold showers aren't fun
Phew, boy do I feel invigorated this morning after a cold shower and hair wash! At one point I thought my brain was going to shut down, the water was that cold!
Luckily however, I have a boiler man booked on Thursday to hopefully fix the problem – at great expense...
Plumbers it seems are like supermodels – they don’t get out of bed for less than a set amount.
Oh the joys of flat owning.
Recently however, I've noticed how much better I've been sleeping in my little flat. And I think part of this is to do with lack of worrying when I settle down at night – largely due to my fire alarm system. You see, by having the vibrating pad under my pillow and flashing light by my bed, I am totally prevented from lying awake for a few minutes thinking about whether or not there’ll be a fire and if I'll wake up and if anyone will rescue me before I drown in smoke – like the gruesome TV advert.
Now, I know that this is no longer an issue, so I have one less pre-slumber worry!
Amazing!
So anyway, this week, apart from the cold showers, is going well. This morning I ran 3 ½ miles, just half a mile shy of my race length, and apart from a wavering moment two thirds of the way around, I really enjoyed it.
And the best thing is how I feel afterwards.
Invigorated!
Positive!
Alive!
All great ways to start the day.
Indeed, I was feeling great until that cold shower…
Roll on Thursday!
Luckily however, I have a boiler man booked on Thursday to hopefully fix the problem – at great expense...
Plumbers it seems are like supermodels – they don’t get out of bed for less than a set amount.
Oh the joys of flat owning.
Recently however, I've noticed how much better I've been sleeping in my little flat. And I think part of this is to do with lack of worrying when I settle down at night – largely due to my fire alarm system. You see, by having the vibrating pad under my pillow and flashing light by my bed, I am totally prevented from lying awake for a few minutes thinking about whether or not there’ll be a fire and if I'll wake up and if anyone will rescue me before I drown in smoke – like the gruesome TV advert.
Now, I know that this is no longer an issue, so I have one less pre-slumber worry!
Amazing!
So anyway, this week, apart from the cold showers, is going well. This morning I ran 3 ½ miles, just half a mile shy of my race length, and apart from a wavering moment two thirds of the way around, I really enjoyed it.
And the best thing is how I feel afterwards.
Invigorated!
Positive!
Alive!
All great ways to start the day.
Indeed, I was feeling great until that cold shower…
Roll on Thursday!
Monday, 19 April 2010
The problem with being deaf when things break...
Boiler broken: check
No hot water or heating: check and check
Toilet broken: check
Just as well I’m old enough to own a Mastercard isn’t it!
Seriously though, things breaking in my flat are a nightmare for me, as I can’t just pick up the phone and get it sorted. However, when I first moved in, I found a local plumbing company to service my boiler and was able to arrange the whole thing by email. So this morning, as I was having my cold shower, I resolved to email them as soon as I’d warmed up and sort the whole thing out.
The problem with email is that there’s lots of too-ing and fro-ing with questions that could be answered quickly if I was on the phone. So this time, I thought I would email them with everything I could possibly think of concerning the boiler/toilet issues. So I took pictures of the offending boiler and toilet and photoshopped in arrows and text to illustrate what the problem seems to be.
But on reflection, this probably means that right now, there’s a gaggle of west London plumbers rolling around the floor laughing at the email they’ve received with pictures of a toilet and broken boiler and blonde-girl speak written all over it trying to explain what the problem is.
Maybe I should go to plumber night school so I no longer have these communication problems. And while I’m at it, I’d better go to electrician night school, too. And maybe car mechanics night school. And if I can’t learn how to fix it, perhaps I’ll just have to make lots of plumber/electrician/car mechanic friends who I can text when it all goes wrong!
A fool-proof plan… no?
No hot water or heating: check and check
Toilet broken: check
Just as well I’m old enough to own a Mastercard isn’t it!
Seriously though, things breaking in my flat are a nightmare for me, as I can’t just pick up the phone and get it sorted. However, when I first moved in, I found a local plumbing company to service my boiler and was able to arrange the whole thing by email. So this morning, as I was having my cold shower, I resolved to email them as soon as I’d warmed up and sort the whole thing out.
The problem with email is that there’s lots of too-ing and fro-ing with questions that could be answered quickly if I was on the phone. So this time, I thought I would email them with everything I could possibly think of concerning the boiler/toilet issues. So I took pictures of the offending boiler and toilet and photoshopped in arrows and text to illustrate what the problem seems to be.
But on reflection, this probably means that right now, there’s a gaggle of west London plumbers rolling around the floor laughing at the email they’ve received with pictures of a toilet and broken boiler and blonde-girl speak written all over it trying to explain what the problem is.
Maybe I should go to plumber night school so I no longer have these communication problems. And while I’m at it, I’d better go to electrician night school, too. And maybe car mechanics night school. And if I can’t learn how to fix it, perhaps I’ll just have to make lots of plumber/electrician/car mechanic friends who I can text when it all goes wrong!
A fool-proof plan… no?
Friday, 16 April 2010
A visit from the Godson
Whoop! Today is Thankful Friday and I'm thankful for so many things it's not possible to list them all here.
Firstly though, I'm thankful for my gorgeous godson, and to his mum, Best Friend And Head Girl, for asking me to be godmother.
They live Oop Norf, but yesterday all popped in for dinner along with Friend Who Knows Big Words, as they’re down here on holiday. It was so lovely to see everyone again. Northern Boy is 3 years old now and growing fast. He simply adores Friend Who Knows Big Words, and stuck to her like glue all evening.
My godson is gorgeous – quite gorgeous! At 7 months old, he's smiling, giggling and gurgling and even managed to miss throwing up on my carpet, projecting it onto the kitchen tiles instead! So considerate, don't you think?
Now they’re all gone again, I’m missing them lots.
Anyway, I am also thankful that my running is getting easier. This morning I did 25 minutes without stopping, quite an achievement in my scheme of things. Even better, I wasn't overtaken by anyone, which reassured me that I must have speeded up in the last 8 weeks, too!
The run is drawing nearer.
But I’m feeling ready. And I am also thankful I am not running the Brighton Marathon this weekend. Lots of luck to those who are.
Firstly though, I'm thankful for my gorgeous godson, and to his mum, Best Friend And Head Girl, for asking me to be godmother.
They live Oop Norf, but yesterday all popped in for dinner along with Friend Who Knows Big Words, as they’re down here on holiday. It was so lovely to see everyone again. Northern Boy is 3 years old now and growing fast. He simply adores Friend Who Knows Big Words, and stuck to her like glue all evening.
My godson is gorgeous – quite gorgeous! At 7 months old, he's smiling, giggling and gurgling and even managed to miss throwing up on my carpet, projecting it onto the kitchen tiles instead! So considerate, don't you think?
Now they’re all gone again, I’m missing them lots.
Anyway, I am also thankful that my running is getting easier. This morning I did 25 minutes without stopping, quite an achievement in my scheme of things. Even better, I wasn't overtaken by anyone, which reassured me that I must have speeded up in the last 8 weeks, too!
The run is drawing nearer.
But I’m feeling ready. And I am also thankful I am not running the Brighton Marathon this weekend. Lots of luck to those who are.
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
The 'What can I hear?' game
So, no blog yesterday... sorry!
But I have been rather busy lately with the running, my column in Hearing Times – due in Friday – and a few secret projects.
Don't get me wrong, I like it that way, but I do find, if I don't get my sacred bus journey to work for some reason or other, then the blog doesn't get done.
It's Wednesday already, which is great news. Wednesday is my favourite day of the week as by the end of it, the weekend is almost here.
This weekend, I am headed to Pompey to see Penfold and DangerMouse. DangerMouse is in a bike race on Sunday so we're gonna cheer him on, and I may take my running gear and take advantage of the endless sea front.
Anyway, this morning I woke up early. Stupidly early – 5am – knowing that in order to fit in my now 40-minute session on my walk-to-run program, I only had another hour in bed.
Unable to go back to sleep, I played a game that I used to play in my old flat when lying awake at night. It's called 'What can I hear?'. Since moving to the new place, I haven't played it, and it transpires that this was in fact for good reason. I can't hear anything. I mean it's not completely silent, but in the 15 minutes that I lay there listening, I heard maybe two cars... and that was it! In my last flat, I heard two cars a second, and I couldn't hear my TV if the window was open.
It gave me some understanding of just why my new housemates in the last place used to look so traumatised after their first week of living there. To hearing peeps, it must have been dreadful!
I do like the silence in my new place... but now I need a new game for when I'm lying in bed at night unable to sleep...
Perhaps I should just count sheep!
But I have been rather busy lately with the running, my column in Hearing Times – due in Friday – and a few secret projects.
Don't get me wrong, I like it that way, but I do find, if I don't get my sacred bus journey to work for some reason or other, then the blog doesn't get done.
It's Wednesday already, which is great news. Wednesday is my favourite day of the week as by the end of it, the weekend is almost here.
This weekend, I am headed to Pompey to see Penfold and DangerMouse. DangerMouse is in a bike race on Sunday so we're gonna cheer him on, and I may take my running gear and take advantage of the endless sea front.
Anyway, this morning I woke up early. Stupidly early – 5am – knowing that in order to fit in my now 40-minute session on my walk-to-run program, I only had another hour in bed.
Unable to go back to sleep, I played a game that I used to play in my old flat when lying awake at night. It's called 'What can I hear?'. Since moving to the new place, I haven't played it, and it transpires that this was in fact for good reason. I can't hear anything. I mean it's not completely silent, but in the 15 minutes that I lay there listening, I heard maybe two cars... and that was it! In my last flat, I heard two cars a second, and I couldn't hear my TV if the window was open.
It gave me some understanding of just why my new housemates in the last place used to look so traumatised after their first week of living there. To hearing peeps, it must have been dreadful!
I do like the silence in my new place... but now I need a new game for when I'm lying in bed at night unable to sleep...
Perhaps I should just count sheep!
Monday, 12 April 2010
Lipreading Mamma Mia... kinda
This morning, I wrote my blog on the bus and emailed it to myself, as I do every morning. Except this morning, it didn’t arrive. Which means that someone somewhere in my iPhone address book got my unedited blog for Monday… and I got absolutely nothing.
My bleary-eyed state on the bus also means that I can’t actually remember what I wrote, either! Most annoying.
I do know that I wrote about having a marvellous time with Whiskey Cousin. We shopping, ate a lot of food in China Town at a place called Wonky – or Wong Kei as it was actually spelt, and then went to Mamma Mia. Thanks to the lovely box office peeps, we had premium tickets near the front for a fraction of the price, so I was able to follow a little of what was going on, and could even lipread some bits. It was a totally brilliant evening – especially the bit at the end when everyone jumped up from their seats and sang along with the cast.
I think at this point Whiskey Cousin wanted to crawl under her seat with embarrassment as I sang my heart out!
Teehee!
Anyway, yesterday a French man saved my life – OK, alright, he didn’t actually save my life, but he certainly saved my sanity after the tube I was travelling in stopped in a tunnel, for what seemed like an eternity (probably about 2 minutes!).
You see, I had just dropped Whiskey Cousin at the station and it was the fastest, and only route home, given the weekend tube closures. Hating the tube, I was not feeling overly enthusiastic when I got on the train, but I consoled myself that it was only a few stops – pah! A few stops and a long wait (2 minutes) in a tunnel.
So, the train stopped.
I took a deep breath and sat down.
The train didn’t move.
I got out my iPhone and tried to play Scrabble to distract myself.
Still the train stayed put.
I looked up wildly, and asked the man opposite me if there had been any announcements. He looked totally freaked out that someone had actually spoken to him and ignored me.
And that was when the lovely French man stepped in. Seeing my wide-eyed stare, he asked if I was OK and I admitted I hated the underground and asked if he could chat to me until the train started moving again.
And so he did…
In fact, the first thing he did was tell me he had a girlfriend – I’m guessing he must have wondered if I was actually running an elaborate pick-up plan – and then we chatted. I found out he was a PHD student working at a company over here and he was from the Loire Valley but studied in Lyon. He totally cheered me up and distracted me for the eternity (2 minutes) that we were stuck in the tunnel for.
As he walked with me from our station, I marvelled at how nice he had been in my time of need – and at how good looking he was.
Perhaps it should have been an elaborate pick-up plan after all… but then pitching myself as a neurotic, wide-eyed blonde is not perhaps the best idea.
Hmmm… back to the drawing board!
My bleary-eyed state on the bus also means that I can’t actually remember what I wrote, either! Most annoying.
I do know that I wrote about having a marvellous time with Whiskey Cousin. We shopping, ate a lot of food in China Town at a place called Wonky – or Wong Kei as it was actually spelt, and then went to Mamma Mia. Thanks to the lovely box office peeps, we had premium tickets near the front for a fraction of the price, so I was able to follow a little of what was going on, and could even lipread some bits. It was a totally brilliant evening – especially the bit at the end when everyone jumped up from their seats and sang along with the cast.
I think at this point Whiskey Cousin wanted to crawl under her seat with embarrassment as I sang my heart out!
Teehee!
Anyway, yesterday a French man saved my life – OK, alright, he didn’t actually save my life, but he certainly saved my sanity after the tube I was travelling in stopped in a tunnel, for what seemed like an eternity (probably about 2 minutes!).
You see, I had just dropped Whiskey Cousin at the station and it was the fastest, and only route home, given the weekend tube closures. Hating the tube, I was not feeling overly enthusiastic when I got on the train, but I consoled myself that it was only a few stops – pah! A few stops and a long wait (2 minutes) in a tunnel.
So, the train stopped.
I took a deep breath and sat down.
The train didn’t move.
I got out my iPhone and tried to play Scrabble to distract myself.
Still the train stayed put.
I looked up wildly, and asked the man opposite me if there had been any announcements. He looked totally freaked out that someone had actually spoken to him and ignored me.
And that was when the lovely French man stepped in. Seeing my wide-eyed stare, he asked if I was OK and I admitted I hated the underground and asked if he could chat to me until the train started moving again.
And so he did…
In fact, the first thing he did was tell me he had a girlfriend – I’m guessing he must have wondered if I was actually running an elaborate pick-up plan – and then we chatted. I found out he was a PHD student working at a company over here and he was from the Loire Valley but studied in Lyon. He totally cheered me up and distracted me for the eternity (2 minutes) that we were stuck in the tunnel for.
As he walked with me from our station, I marvelled at how nice he had been in my time of need – and at how good looking he was.
Perhaps it should have been an elaborate pick-up plan after all… but then pitching myself as a neurotic, wide-eyed blonde is not perhaps the best idea.
Hmmm… back to the drawing board!
Friday, 9 April 2010
A not very Thankful Friday
Today has not been a very thankful Friday so far. I overslept, had hideous dreams, smashed Friend Who Knows Big Words' favourite glass, cut my finger and shut another one in a door.
*sniff
Not even the sun is cheering me up. I just want to crawl back into bed and pretend today isn't happening.
On a positive note Whiskey Cousin is coming to stay. She's 13 so I've got us tickets to see Mamma Mia – half price on account of my deafness, and premium seats, too. I don’t know if I'll be able to follow much, but the guys in the box office reassured me its very similar to the movie script, so I will watch and memorise that in advance! They also announced that they are looking at doing a captioned production soon. Yay!
I'm also planning to take Whiskey Cousin to Portobello or Camden and maybe the Tate Modern for some cultcha.
Should be fun!
Finally, I do have one more thing to be thankful for... that I managed my jawlk home yesterday. The Runkeeper application on my iPhone said it was 6 miles and I reckon I ran for two thirds of it at least. Running down Oxford Street was not an option, so I walked that bit. I'm still not fabulous at it though, and always seem to get this moment about 1 minute in where I want to give up, but the more I ran, the more I got into it. And without my rucksack, I reckon it would have been a whole lot easier.
Running is getting easier.
And if that's not something to be thankful for, I don't know what is.
*sniff
Not even the sun is cheering me up. I just want to crawl back into bed and pretend today isn't happening.
On a positive note Whiskey Cousin is coming to stay. She's 13 so I've got us tickets to see Mamma Mia – half price on account of my deafness, and premium seats, too. I don’t know if I'll be able to follow much, but the guys in the box office reassured me its very similar to the movie script, so I will watch and memorise that in advance! They also announced that they are looking at doing a captioned production soon. Yay!
I'm also planning to take Whiskey Cousin to Portobello or Camden and maybe the Tate Modern for some cultcha.
Should be fun!
Finally, I do have one more thing to be thankful for... that I managed my jawlk home yesterday. The Runkeeper application on my iPhone said it was 6 miles and I reckon I ran for two thirds of it at least. Running down Oxford Street was not an option, so I walked that bit. I'm still not fabulous at it though, and always seem to get this moment about 1 minute in where I want to give up, but the more I ran, the more I got into it. And without my rucksack, I reckon it would have been a whole lot easier.
Running is getting easier.
And if that's not something to be thankful for, I don't know what is.
Thursday, 8 April 2010
Running or chocolate
Hurrah! More sun!
It's amazing how that big burning ball of fire has the ability to put a spring in my step, even during the most challenging of weeks.
It's fabulous, I love it!
But while I am still in tights and knee-high boots, and at least 4 layers, there is someone on my bus this morning in a floaty skirt and gladiator sandals...
In April!!!!
All I can say is, she must have pretty warm blood because, while it may be sunny, I'd struggle to use any warmer adjectives when waxing lyrical about the weather.
Anyway, today is another planned jawlk home from work as I really need to pull my socks up with this running lark. Tigger runs 10 miles on a bi-daily basis, so our run will be a walk in the park for him, quite literally!!
Most importantly, I have decided to give up chocolate until this run is over because I am totally addicted and it can’t be healthy.
Hmmm, I have a feeling this will be more challenging than the run!
It's amazing how that big burning ball of fire has the ability to put a spring in my step, even during the most challenging of weeks.
It's fabulous, I love it!
But while I am still in tights and knee-high boots, and at least 4 layers, there is someone on my bus this morning in a floaty skirt and gladiator sandals...
In April!!!!
All I can say is, she must have pretty warm blood because, while it may be sunny, I'd struggle to use any warmer adjectives when waxing lyrical about the weather.
Anyway, today is another planned jawlk home from work as I really need to pull my socks up with this running lark. Tigger runs 10 miles on a bi-daily basis, so our run will be a walk in the park for him, quite literally!!
Most importantly, I have decided to give up chocolate until this run is over because I am totally addicted and it can’t be healthy.
Hmmm, I have a feeling this will be more challenging than the run!
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
An unexpected trial of my deaf fire alarm
Last night I nearly got the chance to try out my new vibrating/flashing all-singing-all-dancing fire alarm – except I was out at the pub.
On returning from the pub – where we came second in the quiz and won some lovely cider glasses, the acrid smell I had smelt the time my neighbours actually did burn their flat down, greeted me. It had me in a flap. My heart was racing and my eyes were imagining the strobe light of my alarm before I’d even got through the door.
There, Friend Who Knows Big Words was able to find out from French Boy, who had passed on the pub quiz in favour of watching football, that there had indeed been a fire – a very little one, in the form of a smoking tubigrip bandage.
You see, since he fell down a waterfall in Vietnam and trashed his ankle, poor old French Boy has been limping. To alleviate the pain, he’s been wearing a support and last night, in an attempt to get rid of a loose thread, he burnt the said loose thread and rested the tubigrip bandage on the suitcase in my spare room.
But the tubigrip bandage had other ideas and continued to smolder – burning a hole in itself in the process and melting the suitcase.
‘My carpet?’ I gasped on returning.
‘Unscathed!’ was Friend Who Knows Big Words reassuring reply.
*Phew
‘French Boy?’ I enquired.
‘Thankfully not wearing the bandage at the time of the fire…’ she added.
It was scary though – and made me all the more thankful for my flashing, vibrating fire alarm.
Three cheers for London Fire Brigade I say!
On returning from the pub – where we came second in the quiz and won some lovely cider glasses, the acrid smell I had smelt the time my neighbours actually did burn their flat down, greeted me. It had me in a flap. My heart was racing and my eyes were imagining the strobe light of my alarm before I’d even got through the door.
There, Friend Who Knows Big Words was able to find out from French Boy, who had passed on the pub quiz in favour of watching football, that there had indeed been a fire – a very little one, in the form of a smoking tubigrip bandage.
You see, since he fell down a waterfall in Vietnam and trashed his ankle, poor old French Boy has been limping. To alleviate the pain, he’s been wearing a support and last night, in an attempt to get rid of a loose thread, he burnt the said loose thread and rested the tubigrip bandage on the suitcase in my spare room.
But the tubigrip bandage had other ideas and continued to smolder – burning a hole in itself in the process and melting the suitcase.
‘My carpet?’ I gasped on returning.
‘Unscathed!’ was Friend Who Knows Big Words reassuring reply.
*Phew
‘French Boy?’ I enquired.
‘Thankfully not wearing the bandage at the time of the fire…’ she added.
It was scary though – and made me all the more thankful for my flashing, vibrating fire alarm.
Three cheers for London Fire Brigade I say!
Tuesday, 6 April 2010
As good as new
Well, another Easter is over, chocolate has been consumed and fun has been had, and now it's back to normality.
What's nice about this morning's normality is that the sun is shining and the birds are most very likely to be singing. It's also Tuesday, so we're one step closer to the weekend already.
Anyway as you know, this weekend, my Ma was visiting and she brought her hearing aids with her as they've recently been turned up. She complained that everything was too loud, but looking back, I think she did a lot better than normal, and it was back to me saying pardon most of the time instead of her.
However, it reminded me that while they can help, they're still don't make everything perfect in the same way that glasses do.
I mean, without my glasses, there quite frankly is no world. In some ways, I can't wait for the day that hearing aids are as good at glasses. Then all I'd have to do was sort out my Crohn's and then I'd be as good as new.
Here's hoping eh? Here's hoping.
What's nice about this morning's normality is that the sun is shining and the birds are most very likely to be singing. It's also Tuesday, so we're one step closer to the weekend already.
Anyway as you know, this weekend, my Ma was visiting and she brought her hearing aids with her as they've recently been turned up. She complained that everything was too loud, but looking back, I think she did a lot better than normal, and it was back to me saying pardon most of the time instead of her.
However, it reminded me that while they can help, they're still don't make everything perfect in the same way that glasses do.
I mean, without my glasses, there quite frankly is no world. In some ways, I can't wait for the day that hearing aids are as good at glasses. Then all I'd have to do was sort out my Crohn's and then I'd be as good as new.
Here's hoping eh? Here's hoping.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
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!
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!
Monday, 29 March 2010
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!
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!
Friday, 26 March 2010
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!
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!
Thursday, 25 March 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
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!
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!
Thursday, 18 March 2010
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…
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…
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
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?
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?
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
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?!
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?!
Monday, 15 March 2010
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!
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!
Friday, 12 March 2010
Thursday, 11 March 2010
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!
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!
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
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!
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!
Monday, 8 March 2010
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.
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.
Friday, 5 March 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, 4 March 2010
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.
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.
Monday, 1 March 2010
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.
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.
Friday, 26 February 2010
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
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
Wednesday, 24 February 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
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!
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!
Monday, 22 February 2010
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!
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!
Friday, 19 February 2010
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
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
Thursday, 18 February 2010
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!
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!
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
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
*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
Friday, 12 February 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, 10 February 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
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!
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!
Saturday, 6 February 2010
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?
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?
Friday, 5 February 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, 4 February 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
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!
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, 29 January 2010
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…
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…
Thursday, 28 January 2010
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!
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!
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
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...
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...
Monday, 25 January 2010
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!
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!
Friday, 22 January 2010
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
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
Thursday, 21 January 2010
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...
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...
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