Deafinitely Girly's rant

It's 7am and I've just got on a bus to go to work, because the tube strike means if I don't leave now, I risk being late on the busiest day of the year at work so far. It's deadline day, there's so much to do, and something like a tube strike could put a complete spanner in the works.

It makes me cross when the tube peeps strike. So cross that what sympathy I could have had for their plight has evaporated in a 5.50am alarm call and freezing cold morning. Do they think they're alone in facing hardships and unfair working conditions right now? Are the people being asked to pay back their bonuses striking? Are the people who've seen no payrise for three years striking? No! Are the people facing redundancies as a result of the natural evolution of technology striking? Yes it would seem so. Because that's what they're striking about isn't is? The oyster card rendering their services obsolete? Technology will always win, no matter how hard we try and fight it. I mean, I sure do miss bus conductors... but it would be a waste of money if we still had them now, wouldn't it?

This is not a good way to start what was always going to be a hellish Monday anyway. Even the promise of a party tonight isn't cheering me up, as I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to get home from it.

Its Christmas soon, everything is going to break because of the snow this week anyway. Couldn't they have just given us some respite for one day?

Perhaps I should have some sympathy, perhaps I am being selfish in wanting London to actually work for just one day. But really, life is a bitch. Bad things do happen. Not everything can be exactly the way we want it to be.

Of course, I have never had to walk in the shoes of the people who are striking, so perhaps I don’t know the full story. But what I do know, is that London cannot continue like this. From the top to the bottom, people need to get the acts together. Things are changing. People need to change, too. Economically, climately, and socially. Something needs to change, or we’re just going to become a pointless mass of people clinging to how things used to be, and forgetting that the way things used to be didn’t work either.

I don’t have the power to change things myself, but I do have the power to keep working, keep paying my taxes, keep being a decent human being, and if we all do that, us little people at the bottom, and then the people at the top do the decent thing too, maybe it could work…

And maybe there’ll be a flypast of pigs this afternoon, too.

Just maybe…

Me and Deafinitely Girly

I’ve been so busy recently that I haven’t had time to write my daily updates – I miss it because it’s strangely therapeutic. I also love it when people leave comments on my blog, letting me know they’ve been in similar situations to the ones I’ve written about.

One of my recent favourites has been from Dee, on my Quackers post here. She let me know that she once vacuumed the driver footwell of her car with her head pressing against the car horn without realising and caused the whole neighbourhood to come dashing out and see what the ruckus was…

This made me chuckle lots, and I also realised that walking down the street with a clucking handbag is not the end of the world. Neither is being too busy to blog every now and again, but I just worry, that if I don’t, I will miss this wonderful interaction from people across the world.

It is amazing how through Deafinitely Girly, I’ve encountered so many new people. From Speak Up Librarian, who I actually met when she was in London on holiday to a guy who emailed me this week to ask if he could include my blog in his college essay. It always makes me realise, when I feel isolated or alone because I miss out on general group chitchat or long gossipy phone calls, that I’m really not. There is this whole world out there that I can communicate with daily through Deafinitely Girly, email and text.

I love being Deafinitely Girly because she’s helped me learn to love me – the real me. The me, who before I started to blog, would have a 6-monthly wobble about being deaf, accompanied by lots of feeling sorry for myself and sentences beginning with ‘If I wasn’t deaf…’

She was the girl that often used to say either out loud or in her mind, ‘I can’t do that because I’m deaf’ and quite often that was just an excuse really. And she was the girl that wasn’t quite sure of her worth as a person in relation to her disability.

When I look back at how I was pre-Deafinitely Girly, I barely recognise myself. I was a different person.

I have a lot to thank this pink-mad, girly, ditzy, and quite frankly a little bit bonkers alter ego for really, because she brought me back to life.

My hearing's gone QUACKERS!

Last night, I went to Gym Buddy’s for dinner. In the car on the way there, she said to me, ‘I’m sure I can hear a buzzing noise coming from your bag…’

As I was holding my iPhone at the time, I was at a loss as to what it might be. ‘I don’t think I have any other vibrating things in my bag,’ I replied.

The taxi driver raised an eyebrow.

Over the course of the journey, the noise continued (inaudible to me) and Gym Buddy seemed more and more baffled.

On arrival at hers, it was so dark she couldn’t see the keyhole, so I pulled out my keys as on them is a little torch in the shape of a duck…

When you squeeze it, it lights up. But it also quacks – inaudibly to me!

‘That’s it!’ said Gym Buddy. ‘Thats the noise! I thought I was going crazy as I did think it sounded like a duck quacking!’

‘Did you think you were going quackers?’ I asked, finding the whole thing very amusing.

Until...

...I had the realisation that this duck torch has been in my handbag for at least two weeks!

That’s two whole weeks of wandering around with a quacking handbag I can’t hear.

What must people have thought as I quacked along the pavement, on bus journeys and eek, everywhere?!

*cringe!

So moving swiftly on, I also have some other extremely exciting news. I bought a digital radio. Now, radio is not much used to me in terms of hearing voices and wotnot, but I do love listening to Heart, Capital, Classic FM for the music side of things. I don’t know what I can’t hear, but deafinitely enjoy what I do.

So anyway, I have never really used a normal radio before as people always complain that I’ve not got it tuned in and they can hear loads of crackling, and while this doesn’t bother me, it’s just meant that in the past I have naturally gravitated towards the safety of CDs.

But the lure of an Orla Kiely Digital Radio was too much for me, and so I gathered together all my birthday money, shook out my piggy bank and got counting until I had enough.

And last night was my first night with a radio in my house for ooh, about 20 years… and I LOVE IT!

The digital tuning means I have a perfect reception without and fiddly knob twiddling(!) and I also have more cheese available to me than I could wish for… with a little bit of Arrow Rock thrown in for good measure.

OK, so there’s a lot of talking that means nothing to me, but then, in every day life there’s a lot of that, too. And seeing as my radio is incredibly pretty, I vote it can stay!!!!

A very busy weekend…

Well, well, what a lovely weekend I had with Onion Soup Mate!

On Saturday we got up early and headed to the Natural History Museum, where we spent two hours looking at things that were so old, it was almost incomprehensible. My favourite non-extinct thing was the Pink Fairy Armadillo – a very cute fluffy thing. Onion Soup Mate reckoned that if I was an animal, that’s what I’d be – tough on the outside, soft on the inside… not far off I guess!

Then, after a chilly lunch on a bench in Hyde Park, we decided to go to The Museum of London, which is over near St Paul’s Cathedral – but to make it a bit more interesting, we opted to walk it, with me giving Onion Soup Mate a guided tour on the way.

We wandered through Mayfair, stopping to watch an anti-war protest amble by, through Soho, which included the folly house in Soho Square, along Holborn, which was so quiet and past Chancery Lane, before finally arriving at the museum.

I have to say, this place is amazing. It documents London from before there was a London, and there was even the fossilised skeleton of a woolly rhinoceros, which apparently used to be a native!

But best of all? I found Gma’s lifts! You see, aged 14, Gma worked in Selfridges and I love hearing about her experiences in London then. The other day when we were chatting and she asked me if Selfridges still had the amazing gold lifts. After a lunchtime check, I confirmed they didn’t. And the reason why is because they’re in the Museum of London, and rather amazing they are too – kind of Egyptian style with beautiful illuminations.

Although I did feel a bit sheepish reporting back to Gma that I had indeed found her lifts, but in museum!

By Saturday night, Onion Soup Mate and I were exhausted, so Sunday was a more sedate affair of coffee and cake in an unwisely chosen cafe full of children. When I loudly exclaimed about the noise they were making, Onion Soup Mate cracked up, recognising that if I thought they were loud, then they must be.

Then last night I had a lovely time with BIL. We went to a little pub on the river and caught up, chatted and stuff…

…and now it is Monday. Yesterday seems a week ago and tomorrow seems a lifetime away.

Better just get on with it, eh?

Working on my phone manner

Sorry I've been a bit quiet this week peeps, it's been a mental one if I'm honest that's seen me so tired I actually forgot to set my alarm clock yesterday…

But, today is Thankful Friday and I am very thankful that Onion Soup Mate is coming to visit from the Wild West erm… Country. Although she came up for my birthday, I don't feel as though I really saw her much so it will be nice to have a good girly gossip together.

I am also thankful for people in my life who are honest with me. I mean, let's face it, there's a lot of times where people just aren't. This frustrates me, particularly as my grip on body language means I can often tell if someone is lying.

A random example is yesterday in my dance class. A new person was there who claimed never to have Zumba'd before. Bit while claiming this, her body language screamed out fake shyness, and she proceeded to nail routines left, right and centre.

At first, I gave her the benefit of the doubt, but when she was asked a second time if she was a complete beginner, her smugness gave her away.

Jealous much? Well, seeing as, after four months of Zumba, I still resemble a drugged-up newborn foal, perhaps. But honestly, would it have been so hard for her to tell the truth?

Anyway, the third thing I am thankful for this morning is my growing confidence on the phone – although that doesn't mean I'm hearing any better! But I have decided to be bold when my mobile rings and answer it.

And yesterday, I got that chance. But before answering, I googled the number to make sure it wasn't one of those terrible market research companies. It wasn't, but it was a Glasgow number, so I braced myself for a Scottish accent.

Naturally, there was one, and so I listened to the guy’s spiel for a few minutes, picking up one word, Halifax.

Now, I have a mortgage with Halifax so I therefore wanted to make sure all was OK.

Once he had finished jabbering away, I explained my deafness and asked him to repeat what he had just said slowly and more clearly. He took a deep breath and started again, at exactly the same pace as before.

‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘can I just stop you there. Is this about my mortgage?’

‘No,’ he replied

‘Are you trying to sell me something?’ I then enquired.

‘Yes,’ he answered, almost sheepishly.

‘I'm terribly sorry,’ I responded. ‘Being deaf, I never buy anything over the phone. But thank you so much for calling.’

And just like that, he was gone. How easy was that? No stressing all day about who that unanswered call was from. No worrying that it was something to do with my mortgage. And no getting frustrated. I felt so good about the whole thing, that it was almost as though I wasn’t deaf.

After 30 years, I’ve finally realised that I too can work on my phone manner. Work out how best to decipher exactly what is going on at the other end of the phone so I can get rid of them as soon as possible.

However, seeing as my phone only rings about once a month, it would appear I have rather a long time until I can practise this again. Ah well…

The alarm on my bus goes Wa-Wa-Wa

Wow, today the bus I am travelling on has an alarm on the doors to signal that they are closing.

Tell me, do all buses have this?

I have no idea if all buses have this because I have never heard one before.

Today, however, I am sat on the top deck directly above the back doors of the bus, and sure enough, I can hear a kind of low siren thing whenever we stop at a bus stop.

It's most odd to be able to hear it. In fact, I nearly got up to leave the first time I heard it as I thought it was some sort of emergency alarm.

It never ceases to amaze me how I hear things the randomest of things sometimes and yet when I pick up the phone, all I hear is gobbledygook... I guess this alarm must be just the right frequency for me or something.

I wonder what else I will hear today...

Fingers crossed it'll be something good.

Not hearing children

Today, it's absolutely freezing!!!!

I look like a Michelin Lady in all my layers, but I don't care, I'm warm!

Anyway, I had a brilliant weekend in the Wild West erm... Country with Penthouse Flatmate and First Uni Housemate. It was an early Christmas celebration, and, as Penthouse Flatmate now has three children, it was a very excitable one!

The eldest is my goddaughter and it was lovely to hear about how she's getting on at school and what her favourite things are... albeit with some translational help from the hearing peeps, as her lip patterns aren't quite there yet.

As I was struggling to understand her and her little brother, it made me wonder about how I will manage if I ever have any little people of my own...

I can't ask random strangers in the street, if I am out alone, to translate what my children are saying. But I guess, they'll only ever know me as being deaf, so they, and I, will accommodate that – most probably with signing.

On a plus side, I can't hear moaning and whining... so they will both be pointless tactics to try on me, and my clarity of understanding body language means I can tell a toddler who needs the loo a mile away!

But that's quite enough of that.

I have a busy week ahead. I am seeing Knows My Secrets and Friend Who Knows Big Words, and then on Friday, Onion Soup Mate is coming for the whole weekend. I can’t wait and am already planning lots of fun things we can do together.

But for now, it is Monday, and I have my day job to be getting on with… so I had better do just that!

Deafness in an emergency

Oh boy, Deafinitely Girly is tired today.

You see, last night, after unsuccessfully attempting the pub quiz with GBman and The Singing Swede, I returned home and settled down with a cup of tea and the contents of my digibox for half an hour before bed.

There was a weird noise occurring somewhere that I could just about hear, but I couldn’t pinpoint it, so I just carried on watching TV. Then my living room floor began to shake and I heard more strange noises… there was deafinitely a commotion coming from somewhere, but not hearing very well, I couldn’t work out where from. In fact, I really only had the vibrations of the floor to go on, and that wasn’t very helpful.

Then, I heard a serious of massive bangs – no mistaking these for anything else – and so I got up and looked out the window. There were two police cars, lights flashing and coppers jumping from them. The banging continued. My windows started to shake.

I came to the conclusion, given the noise, that they were battering next door’s front door in, so kept looking out the window, wondering what was going on. Another police car screeched down the road, followed by another, then another and another, until nine police cars littered the road – men in uniform propelling themselves from them before they’d even had a chance to come to a standstill, and then dashed to the house next door to mine.

By this point I was more than a little worried. And once the fire engine joined the melee, I decided I should probably go down and find out what the hell was going on. Terraced houses mean that I shared at least one of my walls with the commotion that was going on, and if they were going to have to start battering down anything else, I wanted to know.

Once outside in the dark, I flagged down the most gorgeous policeman and asked him what the heck was going on. He sheepishly admitted that, on account of it being a quiet night, every bored copper in the place had responded to the call, which is why I had the entire Met police force in my road, and that no one was dead, but there had been a commotion.

You don’t say!

Two hours later, the final police car finally manoeuvred its way out of my street and it returned to its leafy quiet suburbia once again.

But it got me thinking about just how much I don’t hear and whether this is a help or a hindrance. I mean, if I had been able to hear the voices from next door, which almost certainly formed part of the commotion, would I have been more or less freaked out?

If I had been able to hear the nine police sirens descending upon my road this would have deafinitely freaked me out. But instead, I got to watch it all unfold in almost silent wonder, feeling only the vibrations of the door being kicked in and the low rev of engines.

It was like I was watching TV with the mute button on, with BBC-quality subtitles – meaning I had no clue what was going on.

And speaking of bad-quality subtitles – the other day, BBC Breakfast described Waterboarding as a form of totter and informed me that nine male passengers travel on the Eurostar every year!

Hmmmm, maybe I should give Daybreak a chance for a change…

Explaining my deafness to a toddler

Well, I had the most amazing weekend with the Family Clog and The Rents…

*signs wistfully

It was brilliant to see them all, and Mini and Micro Clog are both absolutely wonderful.

Mini Clog’s English is incredible and he had people on the bus aghast as he chatted to me in English before switching to Dutch for Maxi Clog and then back again.

Big Bro wanted to explain to Mini Clog about my deafness, too, so that he knew to look at me when he was talking – it’s frustrating being 3 years old and having a grown-up ignore you, after all.

And Big Bro came up with the most wonderful way of explaining it. He of course told Mini Clog I couldn’t hear, but then he also explained to him that I could tell what he was saying without him having to use his voice – he could just mouth things to me.

Mini Clog was very excited about this, and at the first opportunity he tried it out on me, and I passed with flying colours, with Mini Clog in fits of giggles about his Aunty DG knowing what he was saying. And of course, he wanted to try it for himself, so I mouthed something to him.

He replied a load of gibberish and there were lots more giggles all round – I was very impressed with Big Bro for his idea, and will deafinitely be using this explanation for other small children, as it really works – Mini Clog always made sure he faced me when he spoke from then on.

Now the Family Clog are back in Clogland, I miss them lots – I miss being called Aunty, I miss the toys decorating my carpet, and the amazing smiles that feel like they were just for me… I also miss Big Bro. We have so much to talk about – I need his Big Brotherly advice, and it works so much better in person. I hope to see him soon again soon…

*sniff

And in the meantime, I finally have a new iPhone (HURRAH), so once it’s synched with iTunes tonight and charged up, I will soon be reconnected on messenger with Big Bro and Tigger, back on regular email access, and tweeting about my bus journeys!

Bet you all can’t wait!

The Family Clog are coming to visit

Today is my first Thankful Friday as a 30 year old, and I am thankful that my first week of 30 has been OK!

Mostly, however, I am thankful that I have today off work to get my flat ready for some VIPs!!!! The whole Clog family are coming over from Clogland to see me: Big Bro, Maxi Clog, Mini Clog and Micro Clog – and I am very excited.

Mini Clog and Micro Clog have never been to London and apparently Mini Clog wants to go on a Double Decker – that of course can be arranged, and I have a whole lot of other transport ideas for him up my sleeve as they seem to be his favourite thing at the moment. Looks like I may have to conquer my fear of the tube if I’m going to show him that!

I am also excited to hear/lipread Mini Clog speak English – even though he’s only little, he’s fully bilingual in Clog and English, and Big Bro says he’s getting better all the time. It’s amazing to think that he’s growing up speaking two languages so efficiently.

When I think about Big Bro and his lovely family, I burst with pride. Although they live far away and I don’t see them that often, I find it so exciting that the person whose front teeth I once kicked out while doing a handstand on the stairs, the boy who crashed our joint car before I even learnt to drive, and the ultra cool kid in my school who all the girls in my year fancied, now has this incredible life and family.

And, while it’s incredibly different from my life, I can’t wait to show them all my flat, my London and what I get up to – minus the partying til dawn and dropping my iPhone down the loo. And even better? The Rents will be here, too!

Should be a good weekend...

Bring it on.

Life without my iPhone

So, anyone who has seen me in since my birthday, will know that I broke my beloved iPhone in a moment of clumsiness as it slipped out my back pocket and down the loo.

*sob

Seriously, I think I sucked all the air out of my flat when I realised what I had done and watched my main port of contact with EVERYONE disappear in a little fizzle of the screen.

And since then, everything’s been a pain.

Firstly, it turns out I had the wrong insurance in spite of the fact I used my big amplified phone at work to call and check and asked the lady on the other end of the phone to confirm twice it was OK to keep my existing insurance with my new phone.

Then, when Pa spoke to O2 to try and sort things on Sunday, they told him to call back on Monday. Monday wasn’t good enough in my book, so Jenny M rang back and the person she got was very accommodating. Although, he broke the news of the £150 insurance excess, in addition to my new, more expensive monthly insurance payments.

At this point, I looked at my generously given 30th-birthday cheques sat on the mantelpiece and realised quickly what I was going to be spending them on.

Then, Jenny M was told that iPhone 3GS phones were out of stock – evidentially I am not the only person throwing them in the toilet. But Jenny M was also told that I would be texted when the stock arrived and informed of a delivery date.

However, in the interim, I had a million questions for O2 – they really must love me there – and so emailed the Disability Customer Care email with all of them.

No reply.

So then, I got two texts through in two minutes offering me two different delivery dates.

By this time, I was totally confused; so I cranked up my work phone’s amplifier and took the plunge to call O2 again, with my colleague on stand-by to help if need be. The first guy I spoke to was lovely, he then put me through to an insurance guy who was also lovely and said that I could choose a delivery date. So I replied to the first text message, but being a Blackberry handset that I am using at the moment, the texts were all grouped together so then I had a panic about which date I had confirmed for…

So I rang O2 again and got the most wonderful man on the other end of the phone. After the 50th pardon, I apologised for my hearing loss and he replied, ‘You can say pardon as much as you need to.’ along with a whole host of other reassuring things to help put me at ease during the stressful process of making the phone call.

And while we were nattering, hey presto! another text came through from O2 Insure informing me that the first text had been an error and I could only have the later delivery date.

This was fine, I just wanted to know when to be around to collect my new beloved iPhone.

I have been documenting my daily life without my iPhone on Twitter, not least because I cannot get over how much I relied on it to get me through the day. From the Tube App, which would have been very useful in yesterday’s chaos to Run Keeper to track my run home from work.

I haven’t been able to write my blog on the bus to work in the morning and have no Twitter feed until I log in at work. I have only been able to communicate by text, so had a very long-winded chat with Snowboarding Boy the other day about our dinner arrangements that normally could have been sorted easily on MSN. The list is endless…

Then today, the lovely Twitter peeps at O2 noticed my plight and DM’d me to find out what was going on. And they’re going to check that my iPhone is going to arrive on Monday and that everything is OK. Wonderful service as always from the O2 Twitter peeps, so thanks guys.

I finally feel as though things will actually work out… but just make sure, does anyone know where I can buy a waterproof iPhone case that’s drop resistant, and generally Deafinitely Girly resistant?

If so, drop me a line, as this is not a week I want to repeat again any time soon!

Deafinitely Girly's 30th birthday

Phew, I got so distracted by the different breeds of old ladies yesterday, that I didn’t write about my party!

So, was it good?

Most deafinitely.

I’ve never thrown a birthday party before, so I was a bit nervous as to whether this one would work, especially as I was mixing such an eclectic selection of friends.

When it came to choosing a venue, the main thing for me was somewhere that I could communicate with by email, as I didn’t really want to be on the phone discussing numbers, money etc. And in the end I settled on the pub right beside my house.

I love this pub. It’s where GBman and the Singing Swede and I go to win the pub quiz and, everyone is so friendly there, it seemed ideal.

And it was just that. We had our own section of pub – complete with Country Boy 1’s amazing ET pumpkin – and soon all my friends and family were meeting each other.

What was hilarious though was that they were meeting each other and then saying, ‘And what’s your blog name?’ Then, on finding this out, they instantly knew more about each other as they’ve read about their antics right here.

So SuperCathyFragileMystic and The Photographer met Gym Buddy, Tigger and Jenny M met Gingerbread Man and NikNak, and Miss K met The Food Expert. It was like a Deafinitelygirly.com reunion only with birthday cakes.

I was so touched that so many people had turned up to help me party my way to my 30th birthday, and I didn’t want the evening to end. And amazingly, not once did I feel deaf, or like I didn’t know what was going on – but then I guess, that is the bonus of having a party that’s for you.

We left, merry, with Ma giving Jenny M strict instructions to get me home safely. I promptly walked out in front of a car. Once home, I received a lovely text message from the Cheeky Barman. I’ll reply to that in just a moment, I thought and headed off to the bathroom.

And that’s when it happened. In my ‘’Rum makes me fun’ stupor, I dropped my lovely shiny, beloved, glued-to-my-hand-usually iPhone down the toilet.

*Squeak

I remember looking at it in stunned silence, knowing that all the lovely texts I’d received, photos I’d taken and wotnot since the last time I’d backed it up, had just disappeared in a puff of erm… toilet water.

I miss my iPhone… it’s currently sat in a bowl of rice under a radiator at home while I wait for a new one from o2 – but that really is a whole other story… and one I shall tell tomorrow.

I really am deaf you know!

Deafinitely Girly is upset.

And why?

Well, an old woman was mean to me on the tube the other day.

It frustrates me how old people think they can get away with being rude just because they’re old – in my opinion their age means they should know better!

So what happened? Well, there I was, struggling to get through a busy ticket barrier when the said elderly woman took me out with a big case on wheels – it hit me on the back of the legs and I went flying. I looked at her aghast and she sneered and me before saying, ‘I did say excuse me!’

Honestly, I thought that the words ‘excuse me’ were to give people a chance to move out of the way, not a legitimate reason to run them over with a big bag.

‘I’m deaf,’ I replied, and showed her my Freedom Pass as evidence – weird I know, but I was worried she wouldn’t believe me.

And I was right, she didn’t believe me as she then replied, ‘Yeah, right,’ before stomping over the people in front, too.

The guy behind me witnessed all this and jumped to my defence and soon there was a tidal wave of outrage following her as she struggled down the stairs with her big bag.

The irony of it is, that I would have gladly helped her with her bag had she not have been so judgmental. And, if I’m honest, I doubt she would have accepted anyone’s help anyway. She would probably just have had a go at them about assuming she needed help. As it was, we all made the waiting train and she didn’t.

And, while a tiny bit of me felt guilty about this, the other bit of me thought it served her right.

Then last night, in complete contrast, I was travelling home after a lovely birthday dinner with my friend Snowboarding Boy and this girl in her early 20s set upon an old lady in the seat in front of me. She stole her paper and ripped it up and was being very intimidating. The old lady was amazing though – she held her own and told the girl to shove off. And then everyone else on the top deck started sticking up for her, too.

Not being able to hear what was actually being said, I didn’t say anything but watched closely in case I was needed and then, when the girl gave up and went away, I tapped the little old lady on the shoulder and told her I hoped I would one day be as brave as she was just then if I ever needed to be.

Despite her bravado at the time, she was clearly shaken as it took a while for her to register that I was offering her support not attacking her. But she smiled gratefully and I went on my way.

To see two such different old ladies in as many days was quite eye opening. I hope I grow up to be like the one I met yesterday – she was quite amazing!

Deafinitely Girly is back

Hallooooo!

Deafinitely Girly has had a week off. And why?

Well, I had a VERY big birthday to celebrate, and that’s just what I’ve been doing.

Although you lot are going to get all the news in instalments, as there’s rather a lot to tell.

Last week I went home to The Rents for my 30-year MOT – this involved a physically painful visit to the dentist, and a financially painful visit to the optician.

My dentist is a wonderful Swedish bloke who doesn’t believe in doing anything to teeth unless they really need it. I share this philosophy on dentistry, which was why I hadn’t been to see him for 4 years until last Monday.

He was surprised to see me! He thought I’d been going elsewhere for my yearly check-ups – I had to sheepishly tell him, I hadn’t.

Now, what’s wonderful about him is that he’s completely deaf aware. He knows that his Swedish accent stops me from understanding him unless he speaks v.e.r.y s.l.o.w.l.y and he also always takes his health-and-safety mask off when he’s talking to me.

Anyway, as it turned out, I needed one filling – in a wisdom tooth, and as he explained this to me, I felt myself panicking. He suggested we try it without any pain relief as it would be quicker and, trusting him as I do, I said yes. But I made him promise that he would show my all the machinery before it entered my mouth and also tell me what he was doing at each step of the way as this would help me relax.

And this worked brilliantly – although the words, ‘Big drill’ were not exactly very soothing!

Then, I moved onto the Opticians. Here, they took away my bent glasses to fix them up, then took out my contact lenses. This left me so blind that I walked into a doorframe on my way into the examination room.

The Optician was also brilliant – she made sure she sat in front of me and up close so I could lipread and soon I was choosing shiny specs and marvelling at how much more pleasurable this was than the previous appointment, even if the bill was twice as much!

Then on Tuesday, I celebrated my impending big birthday with the Nottnum family! Nottnum Uncle decorated his dining room with everything pink for the occasion and the whole family were in on the preparations – it was so lovely of them and I had the best time!

The rest of the week then flew by – there was a performance of The Nutcracker in Nottnum that I went to see, catching up with French Aunt and all of a sudden it was time to return to London for my party…

But I shall tell you all about that tomorrow!

Remembering the past and the future

Wow it's cold today. It's also sunny and bright. I am wearing three million layers and my toes are cold.

Today is about remembering the past, but also remembering there's a future. Remembering the amazing things that have happened, but also remembering to actively go out and seek more amazing things.

Right now, there are lots of amazing things in my life. I have my house, I have my health, and there's this guy who makes me smile without even trying. I have this amazing sense of calm about who I am and what I am doing here.

There’s one person who I know would be happy about this – London Uncle. Especially if he thought back to the scared 16 year old here on work experience, who didn't even want to buy a tube ticket on her own.

He came with me that day, kept me company, showed me what to do, and in the years that followed, when I showed no sign of ever leaving, drank beer with me while watching Grand Designs, was always very polite about my badly-cooked potatoes, embraced my love of 80s movies – Flashdance – and gave me a quirky perspective on life that I will always treasure.

He and London Aunt showed me London through their eyes, and even though I've been here 8 years on my own, it's still their view I share.

Today when I see London, I must remember to thank London Uncle for helping me love this amazing city. He'll always be a part of it... and so will I.

Making the deafness interview

It's Monday!

*fake crowd cheering!

But what a lovely weekend I had!

Friday night was the leaving party of CK – London Cousins' au pair, who quite frankly is also a member of our family. We will miss her!

Then Saturday, I drove up to The Wild West Erm... Country for Jenny M's birthday party. As with all my friends, she's perpetually 21.

That night, we went to another birthday party where danced the night away, and on a rare breather moment when I was sat down, a guy approached me.

He said something – I didn't hear him. He said something again and slowly, I realised he was chatting me up!

As those words were: 'Would you like to dance?'

Haha!

He was already visibly shaken by my lack of comprehension surrounding the situation, so I said yes, but knew that Jenny M and co would also be there, too. So off we went.

And so we danced, and he talked in my ear, and I smiled politely, and we danced some more. And then, when he had obviously had enough of this non-responsive girl, he started bust some moves. And oh boy, what moves they were.

One of them, I swear, involved grabbing his ankle and kind of hopping around the dance floor – it was the most bizarre thing I have EVER seen in my life.

I had to leave the dance floor for fear of being hopped on, or dying laughing.

But what was wonderful was that I felt absolutely no reason to tell him about my deafness. I just wasn't that worried about whether he knew or not. And this is a fantastic gauge as to whether I like someone.

If I do like someone, they'll know about my hearing loss as soon as possible, to ensure that it doesn't stuff anything up. Of course that doesn't stop other things, such as alcoholic amnesia, shyness, and the ability to say all the wrong sentences – usually consecutively, for maximum effect – jeopardising the situation, but at least I know I can't blame my ears!

My deafness is like a first interview for both parties, and if we both get past that stage unscathed, well a second date may be just the thing!

Thank you for my friends

Today is thankful Friday and I am thankful for my amazing inner circle.

As written about last year, these are the people you could count on for anything, anytime, anywhere, and as I'm discovering this week, I'm blessed with a pretty good one.

This week, NikNak, for example, cooked me a fabulous dinner and dispensed equally amazing advice. Gym Buddy drowned her sorrows in tea and cake last night on the discovery that our highlight of the week, Zumba class, was full up!

*sob

And Tigger, well he just keeps me smiling daily with his boundless energy. And that's just to name a few.

Whenever I feel disheartened about October, I just look at my friends and think, it really can't be that bad if I'm surrounded by so many wonderful people.

And that is what I am thankful for...

Are the hearing people panicking?

I have news:

Last night we won the quiz...

Hurrah!

Although, actually, seeing as I barely heard any of it and gave two wrong answers, I think it's safe to say that I didn't personally win the quiz. But, from being last in the first half, we made an amazing recovery and somehow hit first place!

See, I told you those hard, hard of hearing things you do get easier over time!

And other good news? Well, the Chilean miners are on their way out, and they look amazing considering what they've been through these last few months. The subtitles are not great on the news reports, which is quite understandable, so I've been watching the pictures and it's almost overwhelming to see them and all their families reunited.

Anyway, the oddest thing happened on my way to work this morning. My bus broke down, in the middle of a massively busy street in Central London. First of all it came to a shuddering halt with me on the top deck. I sat awhile, engrossed in a MSN messenger conversation I was having, when I realised that we were not moving. And so I did what I usually do when things like this happen, I look around at other peoples’ faces to gauge their reactions – non-plussed means don’t panic, while wide-eyed means something terrible has happened.

But get this, I was the only person on the bus. So I had no clue what was going on!

I legged it downstairs to find the poor bus driver frantically turning the engine over with little success, and hung around hoping he’d noticed his lone passenger. And thankfully, he did and when there was a gap in the traffic, he opened the doors and I made a break for it.

He was talking to me the whole time, but I have no clue what he was saying – although I am really hoping it wasn’t, ‘Get help, please!’ because, thinking there must be bus emergency people for these things, I didn’t. Whoops!

It’s the first time ever that I haven’t had hearing people’s faces to rely on when I’m not sure of a situation and I didn’t stress out. And this, I was mightily happy about, because jumping off a bus, stressed, into a busy rush-hour street is a recipe of erm… almost certain death.

And so it seems I am on a learning curve this week – how fabulous!

Better check back tomorrow and see if I’ve finally learned how to Zumba, eh?

Not too deaf to dream

Today’s blog is coming to you from a teenage boy's bedroom...

Erm, actually, I am on a bus that smells like a teenage boy's bedroom...

There are also enough boys surrounding me that I feel like I am in a teenage boys' boarding school dormitory – something that would be wrong on so many levels!!

From my seat at the back of the bus, I am barely visible above the sea of sports bags, creatively gelled hair and haze of Lynx. It's a truly bizarre experience, and probably a small mercy that I cannot eavesdrop their conversation...

What a difference 10 minutes makes – this is deafinitely the last time I get the 8am bus to work!

Anyway, today I have two things happening that as a deaf person I find difficult. One is a haircut and the other is the pub quiz.

The former is a minefield of mishaps. From not hearing the 'Is the water ok?' question, to trying to move my head to lipread and causing wonky layers – over the years I've had my fair share of haircutting drama. But for the last 4 years, I've solved that by going to the same fab hairdresser. She really is amazing and now she knows I am deaf, the only thing I feel tense about is whether I'll like the finished style.

And the pub quiz? Well, as any hard of hearing person will tell you, these are always tricky to follow, and by the time someone has relayed the question to you, some other smart person had answered it, so you become something of an echo.

GB Man and The Singing Swede are very good at helping me with this though, and so now, very occasionally I actually get to bask in the glory of answering a question, rather than just answering 3 minutes after someone else has answered it.

It’s all about being proactive about your deafness though when it comes to situations like these. And it's also about not giving a toss about what other people think.

I mean, now my Zumba instructor knows I can't hear, I have a space at the front of the class reserved just for me. This is great, I love it!

But as the class is very full, I can feel the icy stares of the other people vying for my vantage point, and wonder if they’re thinking I am some sort of Zumba wannabe. I may well be a Zumba wannabe, but this not the reason I’m hogging the front row.

Another thing that’s important, is remembering that by doing these challenging things over and over again, they do get easier. And not only do they get easier, but they become enjoyable. And it is with this thought, that I am going to resume a couple of dreams that have fallen by the wayside over the years, after being labelled too hard because of my deafness.

So look out over the next few months and you’ll see how I get on!

You don't need to hear ballet

Today I am sleepy for a Monday morning – and when I am sleepy, I am more deaf.

I am also scatty, and this has seen me sign off an important email with a highly inappropriate ‘Lots of love’ this morning…

*cringe

So, I had a brilliant weekend – The Rents came down and I went to see the ballet Onegin at Covent Garden. The standard of the dancing was amazing, I couldn’t fault it, but the storyline is bleak. Basically in a nutshell it goes like this:

Man is cad…
Man makes woman fall in love with her…
Man breaks woman’s heart by flirting with her sister…
Man shoots her sister’s fiancé…
Woman moves on, gets married and just when she’s happy, Man pops up again and throws everything into turmoil…
Luckily, Woman comes to senses and tells him where to go…

It was 2½ hours of tension!

But I love going to the ballet, because I really don’t need to hear for it. I can just watch the dancing and enjoy the story and I am on equal footing with everyone else in the audience – better footing often as I get to go so much I know what’s going on more. I actually forget I am deaf when I am there, which can only be a good thing, can’t it?

And then yesterday evening, well I had a great time… and that is all you need to know for now.

Nobody puts Deafinitely Girly in a deaf box

Sometimes I get so frustrated when people put me in a box labelled deaf without really checking what that means.

It’s the same as when you meet an old friend of your parents’ who you haven’t seen since your teenage years and she asks you if your bedroom is still messy and comments on how your thunder thighs have miraculously disappeared…

Some people cannot get away from putting you in a box and keeping you there.

You see, for some time now, I have strived to prove that I can work outside this box. I have fought to ensure that no finger could ever be pointed at my deafness when it came to judging me.

I mean, sure, my deafness makes me less chatty on the phone, but to my knowledge, some hearing people aren’t chatty on the phone, either.

Sometimes I wonder what I should do about this living in a box thing – should I work with it? Get it some comfy cushions, make myself right at home, play up to the illusion that I’m going nowhere fast. Or should I throw the damn box out of the window and continue the daily fight to prove that putting people in boxes – no matter who they are or what they do – is a very outmoded way of thinking?

I’ve fought for lots of changes over the years – not just when it comes to changing people's perceptions about the state of my bedroom – and I know that in order to do this, you need commitment, you need thick skin and you need to have a love of banging your head against a brick wall.

You also need a blog – because it is through writing things down that you come to realise that of course things are worth fighting for, and of course I shouldn’t make myself at home in this crappy box labelled ‘deaf and going nowhere fast’.

Nobody puts DG in a box. So look out world, here I come!

I'm really not that deaf aware

Well, what a fabulous week I am having!

Every evening makes me smile at the moment.

Last night, Fab Friend came to stay and we went to the best Thai restaurant in the whole of London, which happens to be two minutes from my flat.

Fab Friend, as regular readers will know, is also deaf and when we get together we automatically look to the other one to do the job of our ears, even though we're both incapable of fulfilling this role.

So last night, when the softly-spoken waitress came over and started speaking, I looked at her and she looked at me awaiting a translation before we both burst out laughing at our complete lack of deaf awareness.

Then, once back at my flat, I started talking to her from another room... again a completely bizarre thing to do, as I get mad when people do this to me!

But it got me thinking about why we both forget the other one can't hear too. It might be because in our world, we are minority. Except when we go out with each other, there is always someone to translate the waiter, tell us what's going on, or hear us yelling from another room.

And if I can't be deaf aware, then it occurred to me how unfair it was to expect other people to be immediately deaf aware. So here's my suggestion: give hearing peeps a break for getting it wrong sometimes, and if you see Fab Friend and I out for dinner, please can you tell us what the waitress just said!

Deafinitely Girly's got writers' block

Deafinitely Girly has been awfully quiet recently, I know.

It’s odd… I have just got complete writers’ block – the kind that I expect to last a day, but in fact has lasted a week and is showing no signs of going away.

October, as many of you will know, is a funny month for me. It’s had its fair share of dramas over the years, namely 30 years ago when I turned up, and like I said the other day, this year I have new plans for October.

But I do wonder if it’s October that’s causing my writers’ block – and if it is, what do I do about it?

At university, my writing tutor advised those of us suffering from writers’ block to write naked with an unlit cigarette in your mouth. She swore by this method, but seeing as I do most of my writing on the bus, I’m not sure it’s going to work for me – although it could make the journey a little more interesting for other people.

Methods I have used over the years include writing in pink ink – always works, writing 10 words in exchange for 1 square of chocolate – I know, I can actually bribe myself, and just writing nonsense until it starts to take form. And that is the method I am trying today.

Here is my nonsense. Let’s hope it works and I’m back on form tomorrow, eh?

Thankful Friday

Even though it's rainy I'm still feeling thankful on this Friday.

Why?

Because every cloud has a silver lining, and as rain clouds are grey – perhaps they're silver inside!

I'm mostly thankful that I have a fun evening ahead with Gym Buddy and Web Whizz – we're having a night in of DVDs, junk food and wine to undo all the good work we've been doing at the gym recently.

I am also thankful that it's October – for this year I am rewriting my fortunes in October. I am making it a month of good times, good luck and good health. I refuse to have another crappy October. Or as someone said to me the other weekend... Don't think of elephants.

So, here's to a positive October, and the end of a very long week.

Have a great weekend everyone.

The lipreading reflex

It’s raining!

Harumph!

But on a positive note, this morning, after a week of head scratching, I finally remembered that I had not lost all my winter jumpers, I had merely packed them away during the summer.

This meant, that when I remembered where, I discovered a whole load of fabulous clothes I hasn’t seen since May! It’s like I’ve just been shopping, but without the credit card hit!

Anyway, today I want to talk about my dancing. You see, I’ve been going to Zumba class for two months now and, while I’ve got the moves – sort of – I’m lacking finesse...

This is mainly because no matter what move I do, my eyes are always on the instructor.

So my body is going one way, but my head is always going another, and this makes me look very strange – kinda like a jiving plank of wood.

The problem is, staring at people in order to hear what they are saying is a reflex that I just can’t shake off. It’s as strong as the old knee and hammer one at the doctors. It is literally physically impossible for me not to look at the person I am trying to hear.

I haven’t actually told my Zumba instructor I can’t hear, mainly because I never got around to it, and now, two months on, it seems a bit random to suddenly let her know. But I do wonder if I freak her out by staring at her from start to finish instead of looking at my hands or the ceiling, which is the head movement most of the dances seem to require.

I’ve actually tried practising at home – such is my desire to actually be good at this – and, when there’s no one to try and hear, my head definitely goes in the right direction.

So I’ve just got to work on breaking the reflex in class now. Perhaps over time as I learn the steps more, it’ll get easier. And in the meantime, I’ll just get my hip shaking and grapevines good, so that when my head eventually decides to join in, I’ll have it all...

…or something!

Hearing Mt. Desolation

What do you get it you cross two members of Keane with the Killers, Mumford & Sons, and Noah & the Whale, and a whole host of additionally talented musicians?

A band called Mt Desolation it seems!

And, while today, I am very, very deaf, it was completely and utterly worth it to see them in concert last night.

Being a not-very-hearing person, I'm not going to tell you how the lyrics moved me, as I didn't hear them. But I did hear the harmonies, the amazing bass and lower octaves of the treble and was able to musically-read the harmonica and violin.

We arrived early – yes, I know, we’re so cool – and took our places in the venue. It was at this moment that The Singing Swede and I realised we had positioned ourselves under the ONLY air conditioning unit in the entire building and it was blowing cold air right on our heads – I’m not joking, I looked like I was in a Celine Dion music video.

So the night began with me trying to look cool with a scarf draped over my head to keep the polar chill off my neck and my hair from flapping around wildly, and a group called The Staves. Three sisters, three amazing voices, two of them ex-Grange Hill – all wonderfully talented. As they shyly took to the stage, I had no idea what to expect, but as they performed each song, I felt my mood being raised an octave at a time. You can’t help but join in their sweet enthusiasm for what they do.

I also felt this bizarre jealousy that they could sing like that, before remembering that even before I went deaf, I could never sing like that!

And then, all of a sudden, Mt Desolation took to the stage, with me recognising only the main man, Jesse Quin – the bass guitarist from Keane, and the guitarist from The Staves – I know, I know, I should know more of them than this!

And what did I think? Well, they were amazing. There was incredible ‘audience body language lust’ going on for the bloke on the left, who I discovered was also in Keane and the girls at the front were in danger of giving themselves brain haemorrhages from dancing around so much. But it was brilliant.

From upbeat folky jigs to lilting melodies, I loved it all. It was captivating, entertaining and left me wondering why I don’t go to gigs more often. And the best bit? Nothing got too loud. And this was not because it wasn’t too loud, it’s because my hearing has recently got worse, and the recruitment I used to suffer, seems to be diminishing with it.

While this is a pain in many ways – it meant last night really was the best gig I’ve even been to. Lets hope my hearing hangs around until they’re next on tour again!

Deafinitely Girly does DIY

Another great weekend always signals the start of another week. But I'm not going think about that, because for now, I am basking in the glory of my slightly cowboy DIY success.

You see, being exceptionally blind as well as deaf, means that in the morning I get up, switch on my shower and hop in, all without my glasses on. I then leave the bathroom and go and get dressed.

But on Saturday morning, I had my glasses on when I turned the shower on and quickly noticed a torrent of water pouring out the corner of my shower door, down the wall, behind the skirting, before disappearing.

Argh!

Really just wanting a shower and not having to do DIY, I begrudgingly got my screwdriver out of the cutlery drawer and took off the skirting board and side panel of the bath to assess the problem. And there I found a very soggy wooden floor...

Argh

Amazingly though, this has clearly been going on for ages, as nothing new has happened to my shower door, so I was somewhat relieved my neighbour hasn't had a ceiling flood courtesy of me!

In the process of trying to fix the problem, I drowned my entire bathroom when the shower head took on a life of its own and flew around the bath spraying water as far as my hall carpet.

Argh

And after this? Well, I declared war...

I got out my gun, my er, silicone gun and I sealed the hell out of my shower door...

The result?! No leak. Hurrah! Well, from that bit of my bath anyway. The other leak? A takeaway carton seems to be for catching that for now – until I can get someone in who's answer for everything isn't just silicone sealant!

*blush!

Deafinitely Girly's on a mission

It’s official: I’m a deaf girl on a mission!

Recently, as I’m sure you’ll be aware, my posts have been a little thin on the ground here at deafinitelygirly.com and this has been frustrating me.

While I can, to some extent blame my busy day job, manic social life and sometimes crohn’s episodes, deep down I know that really, if I want to get something down on here, nothing will stop me.

But recently, I’ve been without a project. I’ve become complacent in a world of bad services for deaf and hard of hearing people. I’ve stopped complaining.

But not anymore. After a very successful brainstorm yesterday, I’ve rediscovered two battles that are worth fighting… or at least pitching politely to the people in question. And that’s exactly what I am going to do.

And while it’s all a little bit undercover right now, I can tell you that I am starting with Richard Branson. Anyone got his email address?!

Close encounters of the male kind

So, it turns out I am not so deaf that I cannot hear the roadworks that started up VERY loudly outside my bedroom window this morning. One peep through the blind confirmed that they were digging up a road that looks perfectly OK to me, but clearly needs thousands of pounds of my council tax spent to make it better – I tell you what, it had better be paved with gold by the time I get home tonight.

Harumph!

Anyway, on a more positive note, after something of a dry spell on the man front, I finally got one to notice me! Hurrah! Although, maybe not in the way I had hoped…

You see, there I was, striding purposefully to work, when on rounding the corner I almost bumped into a guy coming the other way. My reaction was to simply stop and let him negotiate his way around me, so that we weren’t to-ing and fro-ing in the same directions like often embarrassingly happens.

His reaction however, was to jump in the air, drop his rucksack and yelp!

*blush

Never in all my life has a man reacted to an encounter with me like this and I was so startled I burst out laughing, which then caused the strange man to pick up his rucksack and make a bolt for it.

I hastily checked my reflection, wondering if his fear had been caused by a lack of make-up, my concealer still being blobbed not blended or my mascara heading southwards, but everything was as it should be.

So heaven only knows what made him scream and run for the hills, but I’m hoping my next close encounter with the male kind will be slight more successful…

I’ll keep you posted!

A hearing headache

Do you know, I think last week's headache signalled a drop in my hearing.

I'd forgotten that this used to happen in my teens. I'd get a crashing headache, which was a clue that either my eyesight or hearing was on the move.

And since the floating triangles incident, my eyesight has been fine. And my hearing?

Well, let's look at the evidence...

Recently I've been watching my TV practically on mute. It's as thought the sound is irrelevant – all I want is subtitles

I've also forgotten we have a radio at work, when this time last year I was able to hum along to the bass tune.

And perhaps the most indicative of a hearing shift – loud noises are not making me fall over anymore… mainly because nothing seems very loud.

On Saturday for example, while out with Gingerbread Man and The Singing Swede, an ambulance went past full pelt. I braced myself for the noise, but none came. ‘Ah well,’ I thought to myself. ‘Perhaps the siren wasn't on.’ But then I noticed the Singjng Swede had her fingers in her ears.

Yup, there was deafinitely siren. And I heard nothing – not even up close! I mean, I'm used to not hearing sirens from afar, hence all the mishaps with emergency vehicles. But this? Well maybe that explains my close encounter with the police car earlier this month.

So this week, I'm going to have a ‘What can’t I hear anymore’ week, and report back. And if the evidence continues?

I think it's time for a trip to the audiologist! Don't you?

Today is Thankful Friday…

…and I am thankful that I no longer have crazy vision! I am not however thankful that I haven't had time to blog this week – it's not good enough and personally I blame the great books I've been reading on the bus instead of writing my blog.
Will do better next week – I promise!
DGx

The day I couldn't see or hear!

So, I know I've been a little quiet this week...

I had been looking forward to telling you all about my wonderful weekend of seeing Penthouse Flatmate, SuperKathyFragileMystic, The Photographer, and Blackberry the poodle...

But then on Monday, while sat at work, I was suddenly aware that I couldn't see properly – it was as though someone was letting too much light into my eyes. Within 10 minutes, this had progressed to flashing triangles across my vision, and at that point I was starting to panic. You see, if I can't see anything, I can't lipread, and if I can't do that, I can’t hear. And if I can’t hear or see, I am, in my opinion, utterly screwed.

Luckily a savvy work colleague was on hand to tell me she thought I was experiencing aura symptoms – what you get just before a migraine...

And boom! Just like that, a headache appeared.

And, 36 hours later, it's still here. Better than it was before however, which is relief, but still not gone, which is annoying.

Having never had migraine before, I wasn't really sure what to expect in terms of it going away. But it can apparently take a while, so I'm not too worried at the moment.

The most relieving thing is that I can see again. I have never been so thankful for anything in my entire life.

When I couldn’t see, I felt almost claustrophobic in my own head – a mass of panic spreading through me, wondering what on earth was going on. I never, ever want to feel that way again.

But anyway, back to the weekend – it was perfect in every single way. So nice to catch up with good friends, eat great food, meet new little people, hear about Goddaughter’s first week at school and congrats Penthouse Flatmate on becoming a Yummy Mummy of three.

And then, there was Blackberry! Well, regular readers will know I am definitely a cat person – but on meeting Blackberry the poodle, all that changed! She is without a doubt the most fabulous canine on the planet. While sitting in the sunshine of SKFM’s cottage courtyard on Sunday, Blackberry decided it was cuddle time, and before I knew it, I had a full-size poodle on my lap, trying her hardest to shrink to fit! It was brilliant – and the most amazing experience to spend time with such a loveable, intelligent dog.

So scrap the cat plan, I’m getting a Blackberry of my very own – and unlike the phone variety, this one won’t be pink!

Deafinitely Girly and the deaf mouse!

Today is Thankful Friday, and I am thankful that my parents are some of the few people I can still hear on the telephone.

And here’s why…

Regular readers may already know that I have an unwelcome housemate living with me at the moment – a mouse!

Now, not wanting to kill it, I wondered if I could drive it out with a special humane mouse repellent kit, which included a powder that the mouse didn’t like the smell of and an Ultrasound Mouse Repellent thing that plugs in and emits a high-pitched noise that mice apparently hate.

Well, get this – it appears I have a deaf mousemate! This is no joke because this mouse shows no sign of disappearing. And last night, it was almost as if it was trying to prove a point about this, because while I was in bed reading my new Katie Fforde book, which is splendid by the way, the mouse brazenly scurried into my bedroom!

And what did I do? Well, I screamed of course. And that was when I realised that this mouse cannot be profoundly deaf, just hard of hearing, as it turned on its heels and legged it under my wardrobe!

Oh joy!

And then, I did what any considerate human being does at 12.30am on a school night – I rang my parents!

Actually, I don’t know why I did this – they live 100 miles away from me, so are hardly handy for mouse catching. Call it reflex, call it needing to share my fear, call it these are the only people in the world who are likely to not kill me for calling them at this time, call it what you like, but call them, I did!

And, of course, they were asleep but thankfully, (phew!) saw the funny side to the fact that I felt the need to share with them my evening of mousecapades…

So then, what of the mouse? Well, he clearly doesn’t have an aversion to high-pitched noises, which I guess makes two of us, but seriously, there is no room for him in my house. He’s very badly behaved and keeps pulling tufts of carpet up for his bedding.

If he really is a hard of hearing mouse, maybe I should get a low-frequency repeller and see if that works…

Otherwise, there’s only one thing for it…

I’m getting a cat!

Be thankful for what you have... and say a little prayer

This morning I watched the most moving film, which has prompted me to actually post it here, a first for Deafinitely Girly. I never normally post films as they are never normally subtitled, but this one is – beautifully so.

It was a heartfelt birthday message from an Australian guy to his wife on her birthday, done in the Love Actually style where Andrew Lincoln tells Kiera Knightly he loves her.

The heartbreaking thing is that Kristian is fighting liver cancer and has two little boys, who also feature in the film.

Watching it, made me resolve to be thankful for every day I have and live my life to the full, whatever is thrown at me.

And now, I'm keeping everything crossed that Kristian gets to do that for a long time to come, too.

Rachel's Birthday Video from Kristian Anderson on Vimeo.

See the full film on Kristian's blog HERE

Deafinitely Girly and the siren she didn't hear!

Today I walked to work as all the tube people in my area were on my bus because of the strike.

GAH!

But honestly, I think I probably still beat them all to the centre of town as there were crowds of people clamouring to get on at each stop and the bus is always full from my stop even when there’s not a tube strike.

While tiring, especially as I have a lunchtime Body Combat class too, the walk was quite relaxing. There were lots of things to see, including people doing the same thing as me but in heels!

Anyway, yesterday’s lack of blog means I haven’t yet written about my brilliant weekend oop north with Best Friend And Head Girl and her family. It was my godson Petit Pois’ first birthday so I was keen to visit and give him birthday wishes personally.

He’s gorgeous, as is his older brother, Northern Boy, and we had a crazy weekend of midnight baking – the decoration of which was somewhat interesting – and mid-afternoon naps on the sofa when I could keep going no more!

I have ultimate respect for BFAHG – she keeps going on minimal sleep and has a very lovely happy family. I don’t know how she does it honestly.

Then, on Sunday, Jenny M came to stay – but I almost didn’t get to see her. In fact, I almost got to see the windscreen of an unmarked police car close up.

You see, on arrival at Kings Cross, I realised that due to tube closures, I would have to get a bus to Paddington to meet Jenny M. So I crossed the road, looking at the green man and was suddenly aware of something in my peripheral vision that didn’t seem to be showing any signs of stopping.

A quick look right, revealed it to be an unmarked police car with a blue light on the top, and I’m guessing, judging by the fact everyone else had remained on the pavement, a siren!

And of course, I did the logical thing when you have a police car flying towards you at speed. I stopped in shock.

‘MOVE!’ I willed my feet, but it took a few seconds for them to get the hint, by which time the police car had stopped and I was the focal point of quite a few people on the Euston Road, all wondering what the hell I was doing.

*Blush

It was most embarrassing, and the adrenalin led me to walk most of the way to Paddington, rather than bus it.

But this was good as it gave me the thinking time to remind myself that it was better to be embarrassed than embedded in the windscreen of a police car, better to be thought of as a moron by the policemen than be embedded in the windscreen of a police car, and erm… better to be alive and well than embedded in the windscreen of a police car.

As a deaf person who cannot hear sirens anymore, these things do happen and thankfully, on Sunday, I had a lucky escape.

Fingers crossed I continue to be as lucky. And in the meantime, could unmarked police cars please get fog horns, and in return I will try and not trust the green man and look around a bit first, before crossing the road.

That is all!

A Thankful (for my writing) Friday

Today is Thankful Friday and firstly I’m very thankful for all the wonderful people who have voted for me so far in the Superdrug competition. I really do appreciate it.

I am also thankful that this weekend I get to see Best Friend And Head Girl and her family. It’s her son, Petit Pois’s first birthday and, as he’s my godson, I am going up to see him... with a very unsuitcase-friendly, impractical present! Well, that’s what godmothers are for isn’t it!

I don’t, however, trust northern weather, so inspite of the relatively tame forecast, I’m believing none of it, so am currently melting on the bus in knee-high boots and jeans. If it is warm oop north, I will be pleasantly surprised and continue to swelter there!

Anyway, one last thing I am thankful for is Superdrug. Seriously, since I became part of the blogging team, writing an reviewing things, I’ve felt incredibly inspired. I love the thrill of coming up with new ideas, and I also love looking back and seeing the ideas I had.

Sometimes I wonder what I would be doing creatively if Deafinitely Girly didn’t exist, and honestly, I don’t have a clue... I think all my ideas would just be sat there festering while I did the normal London thing: commute, gym, drinks, commute. Deafinitely Girly enhances that, and I can honestly say that writing for Superdrug does, too.

Now go and vote for me please – so it can continue to…

DG x

Things my ears do instead of hear!

Today, my right ear is burning. The edge and lobe are simmering gently.

Someone once told me that left ears burning are for love and right are for spite.

So, if that is to believed, then someone’s being mean about me – a lot.

I also have tinnitus – and another someone else also told me that this was a warning signal humans have had since they were cavemen and some people kept it, while others didn’t. If that is to be believed, then every time I get tinnitus, should I hide?

Isn’t it amazing how my ears are so utterly useless at their originally intended purpose, and instead able to tell me when someone loves or hates me, and when danger is nearby?

Did they miss the memo about actually having to hear, too?

It would appear so!

I know these are silly things to believe, and I do take them with a pinch of salt – but it is quite interesting how over the years people have come up with explanations for random occurrences such as ears ringing or burning…

And, with so many scientific discoveries occurring these days, it’s something that probably won’t continue for much longer…

Soon there’ll be a complete explanation for absolutely everything…

And in the meantime, would the person who is saying nasty things about me please stop – my ear’s threatening to overheat!

VOTE FOR ME!

OK, so I don't normally do this, but my final competition post has just gone live on the Superdrugloves.com website and I'd love it if you'd have a look at it and gimme a rating! I had a Beauty Sale in aid of UNICEF's Pakistan flood appeal and raised £75, as well as having a fabulous time taking pictures and larking around with the Blancos and London Family. Click HERE to check it out!

Thanks wonderful peeps!
DG
x

Mispronouncing words… again!!

Oh dear! Pronunciation mishaps have been few and far between lately so I guess I was due one sooner or later...

And what a good one it was.

There I was sat watching a TV programme about some famous artist with my Pa when I asked, ‘Was he more famous posthumously?’ except I pronounced it post-hume-oos-leee

*blush

After pausing for a good old chuckle, Pa told me the correct pronunciation and I realised just how wrong mine had been.

Making those kind of mistakes in front of Pa is fine though. His chuckles are good-natured and as he’s a really word expert I think he finds my quirky take on my own language entertaining. He was also the one to point out that envelope has two pronunciations and that the paper posting way wasn’t quite appropriate when related to hugs, for example.

But it does worry me about who else hears my unique and quite frankly bonkers pronunciation…

And who hears it who doesn’t know I am deaf, and instead thinks I am like Joey from Friends taking inspiration from word-of-the-day loo roll?

I worked hard to build the vocabulary that most people build aurally during their teens and uni years where the big words come out in force. I grew tired of reading ‘limited use of vocabulary’ at the bottom of my essays and so I read as many books as I could to help this – even dictionaries, which were insanely dull – but the problem is, this doesn’t help the pronunciation… and pronunciation is another word that sounds totally difference to how it reads… just ask Friend Who Knows Big Words.

In fact, I think I’ll do just that, when I meet her for dinner tonight.

Hearing cheesy music

First of all, massive congratulations to Mr and Mrs Gym Buddy on their fabulous wedding at the weekend.

Invited to the evening do, I arrived to the sight of Gym Buddy looking radiant, amazing and utterly gorgeous from head to toe.

The day had, I was informed, gone without a hitch and everyone looked amazing, not just the bride and groom!

The party was a fabulous cheese fest of music, scrumptious buffet and not one, but two, chocolate fountains, and a song dedicated to me! Ha!

*blush

Gym Buddy had warned me this was happening after she’d heard it on my iPod on a car journey to hers one day, but I could not for the life of me work out which song it could be – in truth I was slightly afraid.

And then the opening bars came on...

The unmistakable notes of the Baywatch theme tune filled the venue!

And just two people took to the dance floor! Me, and Gym Buddy! But, thankfully, due to years of practice and my exceptionally bad taste in music, I was used to this and happily danced away!

But it got me thinking about my love of cheesy music. I mean, just why do I love it so? Perhaps it’s because cheese often has a very melodic bass line, which is mostly what I can hear, simple lyrics – so I can learn them easily, and a basic beat.

I think, from a deaf point of view, it’s the easiest kind of music to listen to.

I mean, when I listen a band like Napalm Death for example, there’s just so much going on, and so much bass distortion through my ears, that none of it sounds good anymore. The same for more trendy bands, where more emphasis is on the treble notes rather than the bass.

Yes, yes, yes, that is my excuse for my insanely bad taste in music, knowing all the dance moves to every Steps song ever made and thinking that the Baywatch theme tune is fabulous.

And I’m sticking to it!

Turning my hearing off

Today is Thankful Friday and I am thankful for the wonderful night out I had last night with Web Whizz and Gym Buddy. A few quiet drinks after Zamba turned into a party in Gym Buddy’s imminent wedding honour and before we knew it, it was kicking out time and we were turfed out into the torrential rain.

Seriously – what is with the weather? It’s FREEZING! I am in winter clothes – it’s August. Did Britain accidentally float into the Southern Hemisphere and no one notice or something?

I am also thankful that it’s a bank holiday, which means one extra day of fun, and a four-day week, next week!

Hurrah!

However, let’s get back to last night shall we. There wasn’t drinking of epic proportions, but there was wine – and this is the most brain-blearying of all the alcohols in my opinion – and this has given me a very slight hangover.

And, the problem with very slight hangovers – and monstrous ones from what I can remember from my less-restrained days – is that they obliterate my hearing.

Seriously, someone at work just stood beside me for a full five minutes apparently trying to get my attention – unaware of my deafness as she’s new – and then eventually tapped me on my shoulder causing me to jump and shout ‘What?’ at the top of my voice.

*blush

Then, there’s the attempting to lipread. Seriously, I can be gazing right at lips and nothing is registering. It’s quite bizarre. This morning in Pret, I said pardon 50 times to the poor guy at the till before giving up and answering yes or no alternately to see what would happen.

And that is how my day shall go.

I shall be channelling all my energies into my job and the hearing will have to take the back seat.

I’m turning my ears off as of now.

And, I shall be very thankful for the peace.

Have a great bank holiday weekend peeps.
DGx

Two weddings, a baby and some cats!

Today’s blog has somehow gone missing in Cyberspace after I hit ‘send’ from my iPhone this morning. It’s marked as an unsent message but I can’t get to it.

So here I am starting afresh.

It’s almost the weekend, which is fabulous, and what’s even more fabulous is that this weekend Gym Buddy is getting married.

*sob

Just thinking about it gets me all emotional, as I’m sure it’ll be an amazing day.

And on the subject of weddings, Deafinitely Girly has some very exciting news.

I am going to be a Witness at First Ever Friend’s wedding next year.

*whoop!

First Ever Friend went on holiday to Canada recently and I was hoping that her boy would pop the question as they have been together forever. And he did.

I found out yesterday in a card she had sent me, where she also requested I be her witness – which I think is kinda like the Swiss version of a bridesmaid except you get to choose the dress and there’s no aisle to walk down…

So momentous was this, that I actually braved a phone call, cranked up the volume on my iPhone and plugged my headphones in so that I could say congratulations. And, as she is my first ever friend, she knows my deafness well, so she spoke very clearly, and I think I heard most of what was going on.

Phew!

It's brilliant when these life-altering things happen to my friends. The excitement of the journey they’re going on is infectious, and I love going along for the ride.

When I think about all the things First Ever Friend and I have been through, it seems amazing that we actually live hundreds of miles apart. I know if I ever needed her, she’d be there quicker than if she lived around the corner, and I hope she knows the same is true for me.

What an amazing 18 months it’s going to be – Gym Buddy’s getting married, NikNak is going to be a mum, First Ever Friend – a wife, and me?

Well, I think I might join SuperCathyFragileMystic and get a cat!

Despairing at subtitles STILL!

I've come to the sorry conclusion that anything Top Gear is cursed when it comes to subtitles. I mean, I know BBC breakfast isn't renowned for the most brilliant subtitles in the world, but today they were terrible at the precise moment The-man-formerly-known-as-The Stig was being interviewed!

Jeremy became Germany, James became GMs and mostly I had no idea what was going on.

To put it simply: Arghhhhhhhhh

And on the subject of the current Stig – he'd be dumb to publish anything, as I really don't think it would endear him to anyone. Top Gear fans love the whole show, not just him, and I think he'd destroy a little bit of the magic if he shafted the programme.

And do I know who The Stig is? Quite possibly after dating a lose-tongued motoring journalist a few years ago, followed by a Top Gear insider a few months after that.

They both said it was the same person... And google says a whole lot of other people say that too.

And for me, finding out who it might be, did kind of ruin the magic of Top Gear a little for me.

So finding out for definite would probably ruin it completely!

Don't do it Stig!

And on a completely different note, I’ve been working hard over at Superdrugloves.com and the competition is nearing the end. To celebrate my year so far, I launched the Deafinitely Girly Beauty Awards 2010 and, if you like, you can read and rate it by clicking here. Thanks DG readers.

Life before Deafinitely Girly

Now this sunny weather is more like it!

I was expecting rain this morning when I opened my bedroom blinds, and it was so lovely to be faced with blue sky.

Anyway, the end of the Superdrug competition is nearing and that's partly why I've been a little bit quiet on here recently. Over at Superdrugloves.com, I've been trying to think up original posts and new ways to chat about products, and my latest post should up soon, so keep an eye open for it.

It's at time like this when there are so many Deafinitely Girly-related amazing things going on in my life that I wonder what I did before DG was born...

I mean, for starters what did I do on my bus journey to work every day if I wasn't writing my daily instalment?

And before I wrote for Superdrug, what did I do about beauty products? I mean, just going into my bathroom is like walking into a miniature beauty boutique. How did it become normal to choose my styling products to match my mood, my make-up to match any shade I am wearing and my...

…anyway, it's utterly brilliant and I love it!

I think another reason I've been quiet on here recently is because I'm doing Ok with my deafness. There's nothing I need to thrash out in words this week. No niggles or insecurities that I need advice or reassurance on.

It's odd. But I'm not complaining.

I remember as a teenager learning that these things come in cycles, so a high about my deafness is as normal as a low. I also know that the lows are particularly tough after a nice high period...

But when it comes, I'll be ready and waiting on Deafinitelygirly.com, safe in the knowledge that if anything can get me through it, writing can...

And some sparkly blue nail polish from Superdrug of course.

Learning to be a deaf grown up

Today is thankful Friday and I am extremely thankful about the fun weekend ahead I have planned.

Today, my littlest cousin, London Cousin 2, is 9 years old! I can't believe it – it seems no time ago since I was staying with London Aunt and Uncle, helping them out with her when she was a teeny tiny baby.

As I was buying her birthday present yesterday, a little fitted nautical-trend jacket from Next, I felt quite emotional that she has grown up so fast! And then I had to remind myself that she is only 9!

We are all going out to celebrate tonight – London family, The Blancos and The Rents, and it should be great fun...

Anyway, I am also thankful after watching the news this morning that I have already been to university!

I mean, I know the media has a tendency to make things sound worse than they are, but this lack of places thing sounds downright scary.

Looking back, I don't think I would have been one of the lucky ones...

Not without seriously playing the deaf card, and honestly, I never wanted that to be a factor in whether I should get in somewhere.

When I look back at my time at uni, I learnt a lot – it was an environment that suited me and allowed me to adjust to being a deaf adult.

Everyone is different but I think that many people benefit from this staggered form of growing up. I did my final bit during my postgraduate where I learnt how to be deaf in a work place...

It may sound bizarre but I didn't know how to act, how proactive to be and what to say to people – there is a professional way to vocalise your disability and it took time for me to get to grips with it.

If I had gone straight into work, I dread to think where I might be now. I would have had to have done all my learning and all my growing up in the harsh, unforgiving land of the work place.

It actually makes me feel a bit nauseous just thinking about it.

Big Bro on the other hand, did all his growing up in the work place and his amazingly successful career so far is a testament to his hard work but also evidence that uni was not the right path for him.

So here's what I think…

In an ideal world, Uni selection should not just be about grades, it should be about passion and drive. About the right people getting in because it's what they really want.

If times really are changing then people need to stop using uni as an excuse to get drunk for 4 years and start looking at it as a job in itself – regardless of the career plan they choose to follow afterwards.

If they don’t already, universities need to ask questions like, why do you want to come this uni? Why are you right for this course, what are your expectations? How can you contribute?

They need to weed out the time-wasters in the same way that companies do during job interviews.

I am good at my job. I got a 2:1 at uni, and that was without attending more than 4 english literature lectures in the entire three years – I self taught from notes as I couldn’t hear in lectures at all.

But I got not great A-level results, which today would probably not even get me a look-in on any course I wanted to do.

But my uni gave me a chance. They called me in for an interview and asked me all the same questions I listed above. They saw beyond my crap A-levels, saw my passion, drive and determination and allowed me to excel.

And for that, I will be forever thankful.

There was an old lady…

Today, I cannot stop yawning!

Sat here on the bus beside a little old lady, I'm worried I'm going to be snoring in minute.

Anyway, do you know this week I have apologised to a spider a total of five times?

Regular readers will know I have something of a wild front garden outside my house. Rainy weather sees me battling snails on the front gate and slugs on the pathway, and just when I'd got used to them, I was leaving my house on Monday morning and walked smack bang into the biggest spider’s web ever, stretched across my pathway. Seriously, this spider must be Tarzan in his spare time to bridge the gap over the crazy paving!

And what happened to the spider? Well I presume he was the blob on my face that I threw off while doing the manic dance that people only do when confronted with bugs.

The question now however is, is this spider so dumb that every day and every night he builds a new web across the pathway? Or is he so clever that this is him bearing a grudge for pillaging his palatial mansion the first time around?

Whatever it is, every morning and every night, without fail, he's there. And he's not little either! I believe the human term for legs like his are thunder thighs, and he has eight of them.

The question is, what am I going to do about him? At the moment I de-string one half of his web from the wisteria, which sends the other half flying into the bush with him left in the tangled web he's woven, and then I apologise to him politely and walk through.

I've tried commando crawling under the web, but that's not conducive to turning up at work looking like I actually give a damn. And short of exiting my flat via the window, there's really not much else I can do.

Anyone got any tips for spider relocation that doesn't include sending them to spider heaven? Should I get this old lady next to me to swallow a fly?

Suggestions on a postcard please!

This 'not hearing' business is getting easier!

This morning I had a new patient appointment at my doctor’s surgery at 7.45am, so right now, I’m feeling a bit sleepy!

I’m rubbish at doctor’s appointments. I’ve got that syndrome where you get inside the room and when they ask you how you are, your reflex is to say fine, because it’s amazing how much better you feel when faced with the prospect of a diagnosis.

I remember when going for my surgery last year, checking with the anaesthetist numerous times whether this was really necessary and that I felt much better already. He then pointed out the vat of paracetamol I’d had through an IV drip and explained that most people would feel better after that, too.

Anyway, my nurse today had the most fabulous accent and a rich deep-sounding voice, which made understanding anything she said virtually impossible!
I explained I needed to lipread and she was brilliant. But honestly, I still had very little idea what she was saying. The vowel sounds were so prominent, I couldn’t make out a single consonant!

But all in all it went well, and hopefully the Crohn's will stay quiet enough that I won’t have to visit again for a while.

This week is the week before the week before Gym Buddy’s wedding so we’re squishing in as much gym as we possibly can to ensure she’s in tiptop shape for the occasion! Last night was Body Combat where I beat my imaginary person to a pulp, and today is Body Balance – and I have no idea what that is. But it’s held by Web Whizz’s favourite instructor, the Tasmanian Devil, so it should be fun!

It’s amazing how used to not hearing in classes I am getting, too. It’s frustrating, sure, but I don’t feel the need to give up as easily as I used to now, and instead just accept that I will eventually have a clue what is going on.

It’s very satisfying to have overcome this hurdle and I’m even tempted to try some other classes I’ve always wanted to do.

Would a French class be too ambitious? If I could find a ‘Learn to lipread French’ class to accompany it, then my life would be complete.

Au revoir!

Hi Honey, I'm back!

You know you’re having a busy time of it when there’s not even time for a Thankful Friday.

Phew, massive apologies to anyone who needs them for the appalling lack of blogs last week. With a deadline for Hearing Times and Superdrug looming, my day blog took the back seat a bit. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t off being Deafinitely Girly and gathering plenty of material for the cyber pages of my blog.

On Friday, I was actually very thankful as I took the day off to go and visit Picture Mate. She recently had a baby, and I had a fabulous day catching up with her over lunch, meeting her gorgeous giggly little boy and generally chilling out.

Then, on Friday night I headed to down to Uni Housemate’s place where she lives with The Man. The Man used to have a terribly boring blog name, so it’s been upgraded as of today! Anyway, the reason for the gathering, which also involved Onion Soup Mate, G, Tigger and Mrs Tigger, was that Uni Housemate has turned 30, so we decided to celebrate at an open air classical concert on Saturday evening.

On Saturday, we woke up and prayed that it wouldn’t rain. It rained, so we set off for the concert armed with waterproofs, hats, umbrellas and me with a rather fetching camping chair that was bright pink, circular and featured the most fabulous Orla Kiely-esque print on it. We drove through the flooded motorway with some reservations about what we might be about to experience. But then, as we arrived, the rain stops, the cloud cleared and the sunset warmed us as we ate our picnic, waved our flags and sang along badly to Rule Britannia.

Twas fabulous!

Then today, we went for a walk in Pompey, along the sea front I know so well from my days spent studying there. What I had never stumbled upon though, was the unofficial nudist beach that I accidentally walked through today. A sight for sore eyes on so many levels, and let’s just say, I suddenly found the pebbles directly in front of me far more interesting that the surrounding vista.

Turns out Deafinitely Girly is a prude!

And there’s just one other piece of fantastically wonderful news to report from the weekend, and that is that Penthouse Flatmate and her husband, Future Prime Minister, had a baby – their third one and a little brother for my fabulous goddaughter.

Proving that good things really do come at weekends.

Roll on the next one I say!

A deaf girl in Paris

Phew! Am now on the planet to write a blog, after being slightly exhausted yesterday from my weekend in Paris...

But what a weekend it was!

It nearly didn’t happen though, after my Crohn's put in an impromptu Friday appearance, just before a lunch date. Three sips of soup later, I was trying to conceal my shakes.

But, after a consultation with my oldest friend, Dr SuperCathyFragileMystic, I decided that a holiday was just what I needed and, after promising Ma I'd be careful – turns out getting travel insurance with Crohn's is not that straight forward – I set off…

…in Premium Leisure class!

This meant I got a three-course meal and seemingly bottomless amounts of alcohol. The latter of which I couldn't have as I was feeling rotten, the former was a welcome sight after eating nothing that day.

And what of Paris?

Well, if I could lipread French better and afford to live in a little flat on The Seine, I would move there in an instant.

It's fabulous.

The Saturday was spent wandering the Musée d'Orsay, which is literally littered with fabulous and famous artwork. My favourites being the Degas Little Dancer sculpture and Van Gogh's self-portrait. Both of them had a vulnerability about them that was captivating.

Another interesting thing about the d'Orsay is that it used to be a station, so it was fun sitting in there, surrounded by paintings by all the great impressionists while imagining it was once the Parisian exit to Orleans.

Next, saw a trip to the Rodin museum. A magnificent house, where the artist himself lived and grounds that are adorned with his famous works – The Thinker, The Kiss, The Gates Of Hell.

But to get there however, we didn't walk. We cycled on the Parisian equivalent of the London Barclaycard bikes.

Luckily, French Cousin 2 is an accomplished Parisian cyclist so I just followed her, while silently hoping my European Health Card would cover me should I park myself under the wheels of a passing Renault.

And it turns out that cycling really is the best way to see Paris, and indeed the best way to get home at 2.30am after a party in the rain by the Seine!

On the Sunday, we took a boat trip down the canal from Parc de la Villette into the centre of the city. This involved five locks and a 2km tunnel under Paris. Interspersed with circular grills giving views of the sky, we motored down this secret highway by the gentle lamplight, marvelling at how creative the architect of this has been. When faced with the industrial unsightliness of the canal, he simply hid it, and built beautiful buildings on top.

Naturally, after seeing it from below, I wanted to see it from pavement level so we rented bikes and headed to the Place de la Bastille, a road junction that saw me wishing I had really had managed to take out travel insurance and letting out random yelps as I bounced over cobblestones, dodged buses and cars and kept a watchful eye on my excellent tour guide, French Cousin 2.

And all too soon it was time to return to London - on yesterday's 7am Eurostar... hence the lack of blog yesterday.

So now all that’s left to do, is plan the next trip…

Hurrah!

Covered in cobwebs

Today is Thankful Friday, and I am thankful that I have a long weekend ahead in Paris with French Cousins 2, 3 and 1, and Mustard Boy!

I haven't been to visit them all for far too long so am most excited. And the bonus is, I love Paris, too.

I am not thankful however, about the fact that, after making an effort to look nice today, I have now ended up looking like I've been dragged through a dusty broom cupboard backwards.

In a sense, I kind of have, in the form of the cellar in the old conversion I live in. This cellar actually belongs to my neighbour, but the electricity meters are down there, so today I had to brave it for the first time ever.

The first problem I met is that the staircase was designed for miniature people – think The Borrowers – and so, after navigation my way around two ladders, a lawn mower cable that was threatening to garrotte me, and a mysterious carrier bag, I began my descent... smack bang into a thick wall of cobwebs!

Sticky cobwebs.

I could even shake myself free as I was still stuck in the stairwell of minute proportions at that point.

Eventually, I reached the cellar and was confronted by the spaghetti junction of the electricity world. To find my meter was like following the lines reaching from Tony the Tiger to his bowl of cereal on a box of Frosties.

I then made the mistake of looking up, and found a housing estate of spiders above my head.

All in all, it was a traumatic experience!

This morning, sat on the bus, (probably still not cobweb free, probably with spiders in my hair... the thought of which was making me scratch my head quite a lot – proabaly the reason why the seat next door to me was vacant) I realised with sadness that my pristine look had gone out of the window.

So, I decided to work the shabby chic look instead...

Pssssst... One more thing – if you have a mo, check out my latest post for Superdrug, HERE!