I couldn’t be bothered to clean up all the mess the plumber left… I know I’m lazy. I was straight onto Google to find my next little helper. ‘House Cleaning‘ pulled up a number of contenders with a little company who promised to be round within the hour. Erm… OK then.
I was halfway through watching Aliens (god i love that film) when the cleaner arrived. I invited her in, showed her the pit that was my apartment and excused myself while I finished off the rest of the film. I’d gotten to that bit where the soldiers had to seal themselves in away from the aliens. Such an awesome film — James Cameron really knows how to crank up the action!
Anyway… the cleaner was kinda quite… she just got on with things. I had to raise my feet to dodge the odd vacuum cleaner swipe. The other challenge was trying not to make too much mess while she was working… I figured I wasn’t paying for her to follow me around and clean up after me — right?
She even did the washing up and the bathroom! I think I could get used to this! From end to end, it took her about an hour and half to get through all the mess. The place was gleaming after — good job… good job indeed. And what’s better… I didn’t miss a minute of my film. Everything was peachy… until I had to pay. A — yes… payment. In all fairness it wasn’t too bad I guess… now that I think about it… if it was too cheap… I’d be getting a cleaner in all the time… which is faaaaar too lazy… isn’t it?
So, that should be about it for me with regards to house work… hopefully. I’m back in work tomorrow, so should be fun.
I had this god-awful smell in my flat the other day. It took me ages to track down where it was coming from. After a bit of routing around and furniture removal… I finally found the problem — my kitchen sink was leaking and all the dirty water had pooled in the cupboard beneath it. Yuck!
I went online and Googled ‘Drainage company London‘ and found an excellent company. I explained the problem, gave them my address and they were round in no time. I had to go out to see one of my friends so I was a bit worried that there would be a clash in my calendar. It didn’t matter as the guy was happy to work in the house while I was away. I came back about two hours later and all the work was done! Awesome.
Before the guy left, he said there were some other things that I’d need to look into fixing in the not too distant future. He reckons it’d save a load of hassle if I do it now. I’m not so sure. Now that I think about it… I doubt I will stay in that property for too much longer… there’s too much going wrong with it lately and I could really do with shortening my daily commute.
This brings me to my next point… i totally love shopping… it doesn’t matter what it’s for… so house shopping fits the bill. Property prices have gone a bit crazy lately… so I’m not sure what I will be able to afford… but we’ll see what we can do. I’ve seen a few nice properties for sale on my way to work… so I don’t think my options will be limited, which is always a good thing. I guess I’d better get saving!
So… you know when I cracked my tooth during my vacation in the USA? (See my previous post if you haven’t.) Well… you’ll never guess what happened yesterday. The dentist who treated me sent me a text message! … I didn’t mention that I got chatting to him after he fixed my face did I.
Here’s the long story to bring you up to speed. When the dentist — his name is Hal — fixed my tooth, we got chatting. He was a really nice guy… but he didn’t have much time to talk. Instead, we agreed to meet up for a drink once he’d finished work. Ok — so the guy had been poking around in my gob for thirty minutes… but… why the hell not?
We met up at a local bar and talked about all sorts of things. He was about my age, was unattached, had never been married, had no kids, and he had a good job. The fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous made him pretty much my ideal man… with the one small, almost insignificant draw back that… HE LIVED ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ATLANTIC OCEAN! Tough break.
We had an awesome night… there was definitely chemistry… but we didn’t go any further and went our separate ways (yes… we exchanged contact details. That brings me squarely to yesterday’s text! He’s moved and opened up his own practice — Ophthalmologist Sacramento. He invited me over to check out his new house and to catch up. He even offered to pay for the flight!
I really want to go… but I’m a bit worried. He’s paying for my flight… so… is there an expectation from me to repay the favor? Maybe I’m overthinking it… after all… I can’t afford a trip out there right know. Who knows — I’ll keep you all posted.
A friend of mine was telling me that a tree was starting to cause issues with her house. I didn’t understand what she meant at first but apparently trees can be a big deal if they grow too close to a building.
Now, I envisaged a tiny little tree might have been the cause of her concerns until she invited me round for dinner one day. When I got there, I saw the mother of all trees! It was huge — almost twice as tall as her house and about half as wide. She proceeded to tell me that trees roots go as deep and far as a tree is tall and wide. I started to realize why this was so much of an issue for her because the tree was half as far to the house as it was tall… which meant… the roots must have worked their way into the tree’s foundations.
If you’re in a similar position, I wish I could tell you how to protect your home from tree damage… but it’s beyond me I’m afraid. She showed me round the house and the damage was evident — there were cracks everywhere! What’s worse… her insurance wouldn’t pay out because the tree had been there for years and she hadn’t done anything about it. Tough break huh?
Apparently she’s having a tree surgeon (I’ve always wondered why they’re called tree surgeons) come round in a few days to take the top off of the tree… this is supposed to stop it getting any taller and more importantly, to stop its roots from growing further. That will of course prevent further damage… now she just has to deal with the damage she’s got. This is where it gets messy, cause they’re going to have to drill through her kitchen floor to take a core sample…!
I was on holiday last year — went to the USA. I went with some girlfriends. It was a strange kind of adventure as we booked two weeks off of work, packed our bags… and went down to the airport. We didn’t have any tickets… we just waited for the first cancellation to occur.
We sat in the airport for about 18 hours before we got our break. What’s more… we got business class seats!! How awesome is that!? We arrived about 10 hours later… we were beat, as we’d been traveling 28 hours in total. We stayed at the first hotel we found and slept for about 12 hours!
The trip was set to be the best one ever. We were in Lexington… we had all the time in the world and no place to be. First stop… we needed to eat. We found a burger bar — I ordered a triple cheese burger and my friend just went for a single. I bit into my burger, i heard a crunch and I felt a lot of pain. Yeah… i’d chipped a tooth.
The waiter knew something was up and he came straight over. We got a full refund and he even pointed me in the direction of the best dentist in lexington ma. We caught a cab and we were there in no time. All I had to do was confirm my medical insurance (i’m so glad i got some) and I was seen too in no time.
Dentist, injected me, I was numb in minutes and he began drilling away. The whole episode from start to finish lasted about an hour! Unbelievable!
We decided to go steady with food the following day. I stuck to the soup and my friend had a salad… we both followed up with some vanilla ice cream.
Just got home from work and I’m fuming. I’ve been sat next to this jerk of a guy — some surgeon who does plastic surgery. I managed to get a seat on the train — I sat next to this guy, who seemed OK. We chatted… you know… the usual crap: How’s your day been? Where are you from? Did you see the game? Blah, blah, blah. The smallest of small talk… you get the picture.
Let me be clear… I was in one of those moods where I could have quite happily sat in silence until I got off… BUT this guy was just yammerin’. I wasn’t too fussed until he started talking about my nose. Like ‘… are you happy with your nose?’ What do you say to that? ‘I’m sorry?’ I replied. He continued to tell me about Rhinoplasty Exeter, which is his surgery. He started talking about how he could reshape it and so on.
Where does this guy get off? You can’t go around telling people you’ve just met that you can perform plastic surgery on their nose to improve it. I felt like punching the guy in the crotch!
I quite like my nose. A guy I used to see said it was my best feature… among others… but we wont go there ;). It’s a pointy but perfectly proportioned appendage, even if I do say so myself. What’s more… if you’d seen the guy on the train you’d killed yourself through laughing. Think Woody the Woodpecker meets Professor Clump and you’ll get an idea of the kind of monstrosity that was his nose. Maybe he should spend less time annoying people like me and more time figuring out how he can operate on his own hooter!
Right, I’m off. I apologize for the angry post… but I’m just so mad! I promise that I’ll be more civil in future posts.
I got chatting to a guy who travels on the same route as me in the mornings. It started out by just bumping into him every once in a while. Then, one morning, he was like ‘… do you intentionally try to knock me over in the mornings…’ My first reaction was ‘who’s this idiot?’ but when I looked at him… i could tell he was joking around with me. He was cute! I laughed and that was that. I saw him a few days later… and we started chatting. Our commute is about thirty minutes, so after a month or so… we kinda knew each other relatively well AND we got on.
We became friends and we kinda ventured into that ‘… attraction zone…’ He was married (I noticed his wedding band), so I figured it was just friendly chit chat. (Why are all the best ones taken?) Anyway… what are the signs a married man wants you? I mean… if i didn’t know better… I’d say he wanted me… who wouldn’t — I’m a catch! I like to think I’m too fussy… yeah… that’s my problem — fussiness.
Moving on. If I’m honest… I’m toying with the idea of asking him out for a drink… is that a step too far? How would I feel if it was my husband? Yeah… maybe it is a step too far. I do enjoy our chats. We’ve been talking about the intricacies of Brexit lately. All I can say is… what a flaming mess we’re in. He knows his stuff too — he told me about all the pros and cons about the UK’s exit from the EU and what it will mean for the future. It’s actually very interesting… I bet it has something to do with his job… I should ask! Maybe that’s too intrusive — argh! I just don’t know.
It’s summer here and it’s hot as hell. Very few places bother to invest in air con though… god only knows why. I sweat like a pig in the winter so it comes as no surprise that i’m a ball of sweat meat by the time i get to work in the summer months.
Thankfully, my office has got air con. We have these huge, ceiling-mounted units that say ‘Snowman split system air conditioners‘. I don’t know who they are or what they do… all i know is that those little babies pump out loads of cool, sweat-absorbing, totally yummy, fresh air.
My boss has caught me stud under them many a time with my arms raised high as i try to dry off my sweaty pits. I was embarrassed the first… hmmm… fifty times… but we’re both used to it now… so why stop now.
An added perk of having these units is that they have to get serviced twice a year. We have them technician come in to do the work. He is GORGEOSE. I literally cannot concentrate on my work when he’s in the office. I’ve tried to catch his eyes many a time… but he’s always too busy. He must love his job… or be gay…
One time, the air con unit got stuck on max over the weekend — lol. When we got into the office it was like a winter wonderland! Penguins would have been at home in the office. I actually had to go home and pick up my winter jacket. We took a picture of all the staff in their winter gear, which was so funny as it was the middle of summer.
Any way… enough of my waffle, i’m off to bed now. I’ve got another funny story for you… but it can wait.
OMG! I had the best weekend. A girlfriend and I ended up going to an event — paint and sip asbury park. I’m guessing you can figure out where it is… but the ‘sip’ bit may throw you.
Basically, there a workshop that has been designed for all us arty, drinky types. We paid 50 bucks and were set loose with a tonne of read wine, a few gallons of premium emulsion paint, some paint brushes and loads of virgin wall space to go crazy with. It sounds kinda weird right… but it’s an absolute hoot. My friend and I started out actually trying to be like serious artists. Carefully picking our paints and brushes. Taking long sips of wine while considering who we were going to enlighten our surroundings. My first painting wasn’t half bad either. We even collaborated on a very nice portrait of a local park — it was very inspired. A few bottles of fermented grape juice later… well… it was a totally different story. We soon progressed onto silly stuff… and I mean silly. I’d be lying if i said that there wasn’t the odd cock picture thrown in… yeah… very immature. You’ve gotta know that we were on our fourth bottle by then.
By the end of the night, there was more paint on us than on the walls. We were quite literally covered in the stuff. I’m pretty sure I drank some as well! So… what’s to be made of all this? Well… I’m not quite sure… maybe cause I can’t remember most of the event. Something tells me they should dial back on the wine and focus a little more on the painting. I also wonder if they managed to scrub off the five-foot tall picture of… shall we say… maleness… that I drew on one of the walls — lol.