All entries for September 2005
September 27, 2005
'...next to a hacksaw, isn't that nice?' Which is what I would have said on opening the cupboard under the stairs, apart from the fact it was 11pm, there was nobody else in the house, and for some strange reason, words failed me at this point.
So yes. That is as good an introduction to our house as any. I am living with her, him and One Who Blogs Not. And we also have apple trees, pear trees, and roses in the garden, and a mains drainage system in our living room. It is a lovely house of… loveliness, and also between us we seem to know about half the people in the street.
None of them has a severed Barbie head and a hacksaw though. Nowhere else in Leamington will you be offered a cup of tea and the chance to meet the Barbie Head of Doom. It's nice to know we have something unique to offer the neighbours.
And now we have internet, and thus my university life is complete. I can now give term my permission to begin.
Oh yes, in case you're now too scared to step inside the house, I should add that we worked out that it was probably red paint. Probably.
September 11, 2005
It would make a good afternoon Channel 5 film, wouldn't it? The mother bent on home improvement, striding through the house in her fetching oversized check shirts and cutesy patterned headscarves, is revealed, almost too late, to have ulterior motives under her seemingly innocent desire for a 'fresh' look to her bathroom. But it's okay, because it then turns out she's got some very rare (and yet very widespread in the land of the made-for-TV movie) disease, such as Munchausens by proxy, and there's a tearful reunion, and a vow of love and forgiveness, and a fresh start. And then the credits would roll over a couple of adverts for dentures.
However, as the longsuffering daughter, I would also have to have a med school application and an understanding and earnestly attractive boyfriend. We would also have to live in affluent American suburbia. So there's no need to fear for my safety just yet. I must just trust that my mother's sanding and painting frenzy is all in the name of New Shiny Bathrooms. Also, in her headgear she looks more comedy peasant housewife than all American wholesome. I keep expecting her to come out with a dodgy Russian accent, or try and fix me up with a local farmer who owns almost a whole cow.
And trust me, when I say shiny, I mean shiny. If you get too overexcited with the new touch-sensitive dimmer halogen lights, you need sunglasses to even so much as look at that bath. And then there's all the dust floating around, reflecting the enamel glory of it all. Brushing your teeth feels a bit like stepping into 2001: A Space Odyssey (the crazy flashy lights space trip bit – not so much the apes chucking stuff around, or the psycho computer). What more could one ask for from a bathroom?
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to stuff a chicken for dinner. I just hope Peasant Mother hasn't seen fit to invite the cow farmer.
September 06, 2005
Dear me. It seems like only yesterday I arrived here, with all my bags and belongings. I sat down in the middle of it all and thought: I am going to be here a very long time.
This was mainly because whilst I was having my Very Deep Thought TM my mother had carried on bringing in boxes. It took me a while to actually dig myself out in order to find food.
But yes, anyway, there I was, facing a very long time, even after I had managed to get all the way to the fridge. Not that this mattered so much, for the summer and I had such plans together. I was going to get a job, do all my background reading, clear out my wardrobe etceteraetcsketera, all the time with the summer laughing gaily in the background, smiling down upon my sunlit pursuits. I was also going to be wearing a rather frivolous and unnecessary hat, just because it's the summer and you can do that.
However, now my very long time is looking more than a little bit frayed around the edges, and not only have I still no job, no background reading, and my winnie the pooh pajamas with an 'Aged 12' label in the back, but it has also rained. A lot. So nothing I planned to do with my very long time has actually come to fruition.
All is not lost, though. I have been to the four corners of the kingdom (if those corners are Edinburgh, London, Tetbury and the Wirral – I was always crap at geography), seen naked people of both sexes (in a fully innocent manner – really!), seen lots of delectably famous people (not naked), enjoyed a torrid and regrettable affair with my overdraft (we both agree it should never have been allowed to get this far) and had lots of strawberries, because it's summer and you can do that.
Yes. I have also, you will be pleased to note, worn a frivolous and unnecessary hat.