Domestic Interlude

When I moved in with Max his mum sent me these cute post it note things with text like ‘Looking for this?’ and ‘It’s here!’ written on, with big green arrows. I forgot about them until the umpteenth time Max couldn’t find something that was right in front of his face. He sort of accuses me of moving things without really accusing me, even though I can plainly see what he’s looking for and it hasn’t moved from where he left it. Recently he lost his nail clippers. I hate the things so it’s not surprising he thought I might have ‘accidentally on purpose’ lost them. But I hadn’t. Days and days this went on, ‘I can’t find my nail clippers!’ Too bad, you’ll have to turn into Wolverine or use scissors like the rest of us. But not my sewing scissors!!

Anyway, I was tidying up the other day and I found the clippers. Not hidden anywhere, just sitting on the shelf under the coffee table, minding their own business, as they probably had been doing since the last time Max used them. And then I remembered the post its and this was the perfect time to use them. I stuck them on the mantelpiece like so:

I was really looking forward to the moment he saw them, and then I could laugh at how funny I am. I basically live for those moments. But then he came in and chatted to me and walked past the mantelpiece half a dozen times and he didn’t see them! Why I’m surprised given how this whole thing started I don’t know, but he was robbing me of my moment. So then I had to point out that I was waiting for him to notice something, which sort of defeats the point, and finally he got it. I count it as a victory, even though I wanted more.

And this is how we live, with point scoring and one-upmanship*. Isn’t that how all the great romances lasted?

*To be completely fair to Max, it is more how I live, and he just puts up with it. Because he’s a lovely patient man who lives with a lunatic.

Meltdown Redacted

In the continuing adventures of Living With a Boy, this week sees our heroine overreact slightly to a messy house, bewilder her boyfriend and try to come to terms with the fact that hey, people are different. Some people like bins to be emptied when they are full, and some people can either ignore the fact that they are full or just plain not notice it at all. Some people like washing to be placed in a laundry basket, others are happy to have it spewing all over the place in IKEA bags. Some people like to get the boring and annoying chores out of the way before relaxing, others prefer to play Skyrim. It’s a mad mad world full of opposites, and sometimes you end up living with one.

It’s cool, the meltdown is over, we are back to liking each other again now. He’ll try to do better with the chores, and I’ll try not to care so much. We can all blame my mother for raising a child that cares about a neat and tidy house. Did you hear that Mum? It’s all your fault! (Not really. I love you. Don’t hate me. Thanks for bringing me up right.)

Moving on from domestic (non) bliss, today is my last day at work for THREE WEEKS. I am immensely giddy about this. (So much so that it took me four attempts to spell immensely correctly. Ye gods). Hardly anyone is in the office today and in half an hour I will be the only one left, so work? HAH! I shall eat all my advent calendar chocolate and that is that. I may also drink quite a lot of tea.

I’m really looking forward to Christmas, but then I always do. Time off, good food, surrounded by loved ones…it’s great. I shall be going to Yorkshire next week to spend the festive season with my family. There are two turkeys in the back garden waiting to be eaten. I don’t know which one gets to be ours. Maybe I could pardon one, like they do in the States?

I might post again before the big day but if not, Merry Christmas all!

Who Lives in a House Like This?

Hey! Who would like a tour of my flat? You would? Well aren’t you in luck then cos here it is!

Part One is the living room and bedroom.

Part Two includes exciting things like the kitchen! And the bathroom!

I know, try to contain yourselves.

Online

Oh hey look, I am sitting in my flat, on my computer, on the internet!! We are finally hooked up again. And we have TV! With TiVo! I have no idea how to use TiVo, but I will be an expert shortly and never miss a programme ever again. I have missed having telly, just being able to have it on in the background or flick through channels when I’m bored. DVDs are fine, but you have to commit to watching them, at least attempt to focus.

Now that everything is working I’m very happy with Virgin Media, but I was less happy earlier in the day as I sat about waiting for them to arrive. My time slot was 8am to 1pm, so I got up just in case they came first thing. That pretty much guaranteed he wouldn’t of course. He rang at 12.30 to say he’d be half an hour, ‘or somewhere around there’. By this point I was bored out of my skull. I even did my ironing. He finally showed up at 2pm. He was very lovely and it was a quick install as the tenants before us had had Virgin, but I could have done other things with my morning. Like sleep. Like an epic lie in. That would have been fabulous.

Anyway, it’s all done now and I can go back to spending hours on the internet and commenting on things and watching video without a content lock (thanks T-Mobile). It’s fantastic.

I Know, I Know, This is Such A Big Deal

No, we still haven’t got internet at home. I can’t even remember what I’ve been doing the last two weeks. Mostly attempting to organise the flat while being stupidly busy and not often at home, which is difficult. We don’t have a microwave and I’m getting strangely fond feelings for things like mixing bowls. I need to bake. It’s my age right? I’ve been to roller derby practice (another girl broke her leg, ouch) and home to Yorkshire for a weekend for my grandmother’s 80th birthday.

But I’m not here to write about any of that. I’m here to continue to show my pettiness when it comes to my bed. Remember last year and the good pillow? Nothing has changed much since then, and moving in just means Max can’t escape to his own ‘perfect’ bed any more. The problem this time is my duvet. Max has issues with it. I got rid of his in a fit of consolidation, because it was old and thin and, well, gross, and mine was just nicer. Girl stuff is, isn’t it? But then he moaned about mine not being as big as his, to the point I actually laid them both out to prove that they were in fact the exact same size. Point to Carrie. It’s still not right he says. I go away this weekend and at some point in one of our exciting conversations he tells me he’s ‘fixed’ my duvet and it now covers his feet as it should. Great. I get home to see it laid cross ways on the bed, so the buttons are on the side. I really really hate it when the buttons aren’t at the bottom, but decided if it made him happy and covered his damn feet then so be it. I’d change it around properly when I had a minute.

Problem (such as it is) solved right?

Cut to last night and getting in bed and Max is getting comfortable and then sighs and says again that the bed is wrong. He turns the duvet around so the buttons are at the bottom (where they always had been when I make the bed) and says ‘That’s better!’ and turns over to go to sleep.

OH MY FUCKING GOD.

Now, I know that in the grand scheme of things this is not the end of the world, and I’m sure somewhere there’s some wise person going ‘Pick your battles’ and this would not be one of them, but for god’s sake. That’s how it has always been! I say. You put it the other way with the goddamn buttons on the side and said it was fixed. No, he says, you must have moved it when you made the bed. Oh so it’s my fault is it? Welcome to Midnight at the Overreaction Palace.

I swear to god he does this shit just to wind me up.

Up next in Living With a Man Chronicles, we visit how Max owns four t shirts and five hundred thousand pairs of white socks.

Road Kill

God updating your blog lapses when you’re in the middle of moving and you don’t have proper access to the internet. We still don’t, but we are in our new flat, hurrah! Last Wednesday was a bit hectic since our van men were an hour and a half late due to getting an accident on the way (bodes well). They were also not as good as the first guy who moved me and seemed to take issue with having to actually pick stuff up. Um…that’s your job guys. Still, we got in eventually and then Max had to go back to work and I attempted to put the place in order. It’s an ongoing process, but we have a wardrobe now, another hurrah!

I took Friday off work to get stuff done and also because I was headed to a roller derby boot camp. My afternoon did not go to plan as I was rudely knocked down by a cyclist and ended up sitting in the back of an ambulance for a bit. I did not get flashing lights though as it didn’t go anywhere. I’d like it noted that I WAS COMPLETELY IN THE RIGHT! I was crossing the road on the green man like a good girl and he was coming the wrong way down a one way street. I would generally look both ways before crossing but on a green man on a one way I didn’t. He yelled but was going so fast I didn’t have time to do anything before he smacked into me and I hit the floor. Hard. With my right elbow. I’d just been to pick up some bits for the flat and can only assume the oven tins took the brunt of the hit on my left side as I don’t seem to be hurt there, and I don’t think I hit my head.

I burst into tears from the shock but people were very nice and helped me out of the street and got me some water. The cyclist stopped too but didn’t seem that bothered honestly, and then police came, possibly community support officers I dunno. They were taking all our statements and then cyclist sped off, with one officer in pursuit, but he got away. I find this amusing now, but not so much then.

Initially I said I didn’t need an ambulance but in the end agreed to be looked over, and they were very nice too and I am fine just bruised and shaken. I still went to the boot camp and only fell on my elbow once. I would write more about it but since the majority of what I have to say is negative I should keep my mouth shut, lest I be breaking any roller derby rules. The good things were mainly getting to hang out with my fellow Rec Leaguers and laugh a lot (and moan about the boot camp) and also one brilliant lesson that spread over the two days and was really helpful, about default strategy and how to always be useful on the track.

In other derby news I can now register my skate name. If only I had one.

Moved

I live with a boy now. Five days and it’s going well. Obviously we’re in the clear! Pfft, it is totally the honeymoon period. Max seems genuinely thrilled everyday with my presence which is amusing and also lovely, of course. We have spent a week in each other’s company before though, on holidays, so it’s week two, three and beyond we have to worry about. Although if I can survive a week or so living out of suitcases with my crap everywhere then I’m sure it will all be fine. And having someone to download all my programmes so I can watch them on the HUGE tv helps. As does his little morning booty dance, even though I try to ignore it and go back to sleep. Why is he always in such a good mood in the mornings? It’s not normal is it? Usually I don’t like to be around people until I’ve had my breakfast, because I’m a morning grumpus, but when you live with Hyperactive Man that’s nigh on impossible.

I moved in on Sunday having finally found a man and van that could do that day and who did in fact show up. I had moved most of my boxes down the stairs already to be helpful and also not make it be longer than a two hour job to cut costs (we ended up doing the whole thing in just over an hour). And because I was up and ready by 11am but hadn’t booked the dude til 2pm. I did try to help him move my big bookcase but it turned out he didn’t need me at all and I was just in the way. He was strong. And then we got to Max’s and he helped us unload and then had to go to work. He’s working stupid hours at the moment, so I don’t actually see that much of him.

We’ll be moving into our new place some time next week. I’m looking forward to having access to all my stuff again, and not having to worry about moving constantly. It’ll be nice to be settled again, but Max’s house isn’t so bad really. He makes me tea, what more can you ask for?

What’s 17 in TV years?

I am moving on Sunday. My room looks like a bomb has gone off, though I like to think I know where everything is I imagine over the next week or so of living out of a suitcase at Max’s I will discover differently. But this isn’t a post about moving, it’s a goodbye. Part of moving in with Max involves promising that my tv, my ancient, much loved, tiny tv, is not coming with us. Because this is my current entertainment set up:

Hi Rory!

That tv is 17 years old. I got it for Christmas when I was 13. It’s so old that the only way to connect to a vcr (yes I still use video) is by the aerial, and the only way to play a dvd is through the video. It’s a very complicated mess of wires and scart leads back there, but it works. This tv has moved with me many times. The first shortly after that Christmas when we left my dad and it was our only tv sitting in the kitchen among our furniture of deck chairs and the little camping fridge. Possibly the very last dad-like thing the father did was to help tune in the channels on that there tv.

It didn’t come to university with me since I couldn’t really afford the licence, but it came to London, obviously, and moved from Highbury to Hatfield to Finsbury Park to Stoke Newington. Each time I set it back up I’d expect it to have died on the journey, but each time it didn’t let me down. It loses sound every now and then, and picture, but a jiggle of the scart leads usually sorts that out. And there’s the flickering…but really, considering its age, it’s not doing too badly. But it’s time to go.

Tomorrow I’ll be getting rid of it. Poor little blighter. I’m moving on to bigger and better things:

Max’s 40 inch mega tv.

It’s the kind of tv you can’t look at for too long without your eyes going funny, and I know that when I watch Gilmore Girls on it it will be like watching a play, because all the scenery looks fake and weird. And I bet it doesn’t last 17 years, but it’ll do.

And I Have to Live With a BOY!

You know what I miss? Being in an office where my computer faced a wall. Ah the days of being able to go on the internet and have no one know. Not that I ever blogged while I was at work or anything, pfft…I also miss having an internet at home that isn’t shit. I swear, Virgin Broadband is balls. I can usually get online for about five minutes, and then it goes off. I have tried everything. Sometimes it’ll let me on some websites, so I can check Hotmail (yes I do still use Hotmail. At least it’s not Yahoo!), but it seems against WordPress for some reason. Possibly it is tired of the drivel I write here and is launching a protest. But hah! Here I am anyway internet hater, so suck it.

So…Things you may have missed:

• I’m moving in with a boy. It has only taken us ten years of knowing each other to get to this stage. Hey, we’re both commitment-phobes, this is amazing progress for us. I told my flatmates I was moving out and they cared not a jot. Which is not unexpected. But they will miss me when there’s no toilet roll, and the bathroom hasn’t been cleaned, and they are freezing because they don’t know how to use the heating, and their bills haven’t been paid…Anyway, hopefully it will be mid-October when we do move, and we don’t have a place yet. I stress about moving and the possibility of being homeless, because I am a stress head in general, but I am sure it will be fine. I am not stressing out about moving in with Max though. I am ridiculously looking forward to it in fact. Hey, as a commitment-phobe you have to be impressed with me about this. It will just be so lovely to come home and have someone to hang out with, someone who wants to spend time with me, and who I can cook with and have dinner with, instead of sitting off in my room by myself or being ignored. I won’t have to yell at him any more for watching things without me and I won’t have to carry my possessions around on my back when I want to see him, I can just go home. Sure, it’ll probably be weird living with him in the beginning, and since I like my own space there’ll be times he does my head in, and vice versa, but I am sure we’ll be ok really.

• I went to see Rock of Ages. I really do need to write a proper review of it, because it is is mental. My brain still hasn’t got to grips with everything that went on in that show.

• I went to a pub quiz last night. I did really well, guessing that Polo is the sport you’re not allowed to use your left hand in, South Pacific is the musical featuring Happy Talk, Old man of the forest is an Orangutan, and that a cruciverbalist is a crosswords enthusiast. Though I am peeved about that last one because no one believed me! Oh yes, it is more likely to be someone who makes crucifxes. We didn’t win, and I don’t know where we came because there were so many teams they only did last place and top three.

• I wrote an article for Inside Line magazine, a derby mag, and the first one in the UK. I also helped out with the sub editing. My copy came this week and it looks fab.

• Roller derby is going ok. I am trying to pretend my first bout is not coming up and not get stressed about it, even though on the night itself I will probably want to puke. We have had a couple of team meetings and talked strategy, and we’ll have t shirts with our names and numbers – though mine won’t be a derby name. I still don’t have one. I don’t mind so much about us winning though. It will just be good to see what a bout is like, and hopefully survive it. And then at the end of October I am going to a weekend derby bootcamp, which I am really looking forward to, though it will be knackering I’m sure.

And those are the highlights, if they can be called that. Hey, I never said my life was interesting.