boxed sets

when you live away from home its more than family you miss, in fact often it isnt family you miss at all...

i never thought tea bags would become such a hot commodity, the criteria for the choice of supermarket  being the availability of lady gray, or not. rumours in the town abound when heinz less sugar beans are back on the shelves, friends call each other to take orders and fill trollies directly from the warehouse. 

you can get used to washing powder, allergies permitting, and new breakfast radio DJs different voices, the same bla bla bla and well worn tunes, but the one thing, the one thing that never gets easier is the telly. Foreign telly sucks. Even if the programs are from home the timings are all wrong, endless repeates and woefully retro shows with no hint of irony. 

this makes the hottest the ticket in the expat community the boxed set, fresh firm conversation fodder, gluttonously consumed often in obscenly indulgent celluloid sessions drifting in to the wee hours. your cache and social circle can be measured by the library of gold dust wrapped in cardboard presented in disk form; the boxed set

well worn boxed sets in the LLSP household
- gavin and stacy
- modern family
- breaking bad
- nip tuck
- sex and the city (sorry)

calling your baby ugly

when you've been on your own a while, hard graft setting everything up from scratch, getting somebody new in the team is theoretically a moment to rejoice in reduced workload, shared responsibility and someone to bounce ideas off. but hold on, brace yourself it begins with more work, first there is the preparation, new people need a desk, a laptop, they need a phone a number, they don't know where the stationery lives, you need to show them around and introduce them to other people, some of whom you've forgotten their name, let alone what contribution they make to the company where you work. 

then they ask questions, all sorts of questions why do you do this, whats the history behind this, all enthusiastic and eager to please. just when you think you can enjoy a quiet sandwich at your desk they turn up with their note book. remember that great idea you had last year, the one everyone talked about, and your head office really loved, well apparently its shit and they do something far better, more shiny and wow in the real world where newly comes from.

they come with ideas you secretly wish you had, or you have had but couldn't be arsed to do as it seems too much like hard work, your colleagues suddenly view you with a sceptical eye, why did they think you were so great, maybe they never did.

so prepare yourself getting someone new in the team isn't about getting home earlier and getting a better work-life balance, its about someone younger, thinner, better hair but worse music taste with a brighter bigger future calling your baby ugly.

post it notes

post it notes are my new friends.

since september last year when we decided to buy several walls and what passed for a roof in a field in Devon, the subject of home renovations has loomed heavy in my mind and on my conversational rollerdex. yesterday was completion day; its our all ours. somewhere out there some banking smoke and mirrors happened and money that was never ours in the first place, transferred along with hefty sums of fees; supposedly for the arduous task of organising it all to the former owner of the brick and wriggly tin wreck changed hands and we are now the proud owners of a wreck.

this is beyond what our american cousins would call a fixer upper, its off the scale project wise, frankly its a condemned, it boasts no doors, no windows, it may have seen power at some point but I'm not sure, i have only glanced upstairs from the safety of a rickety ladder since up there no floors exist. but I'm sure once the concrete milking troughs are destructed, the harvesting equiptment moved out and ten ton of dirt removed, the first world luxuries of running water and glass introduced it will be a magnificent home, i only hope to sustain earning prowess to enjoy it. 

the orgy of home magazines is becoming a nightly affair, glossy pages of elle, homes and gardens, period living (snigger from david) inside out are poured over, no advert editorial and article left unscutinised and criticised. i trace my hand over walls in restaurants, snap pics of tiles in the bathroom and examine seat coverings at the bar, food is no longer central to going out to dinner, location chosen for interior inspiration.

the downstairs loo is overflowing with magazines, pen and a small stack of post it notes vital accessories in the smallest room, no research moment should be wasted

not enough meals in the day

sometimes there are just not enough meals in the day;

breakfast was with a former colleague, we always got on well despite the way things ended for her in our company, so i was keen to meet up when she called that she was from out of town, but i didn't bank on the entire meal being nothing but a bitch-fest about work; fortunately i tuned out after a while, since actual participation in the monologue from me was not required or even preferable, and so avoided indigestion normally associated with shop (pardon the pun) talk on a day off

lunch was with an old friend we haven't caught up in a while but it doesn't get off to a good start as leaving late from the whinging colleague I put my foot down and get flashed on the way, then I got lost in the maze that is Madinat, I find this place maddening, its faux soukes, lanes and old time stores, so by the time i reach I'm a bit fed up and not the best of company.

both these meals are punctuated by conversational teasers, this drives me insane. the game is played thus; 2, or more, people are having a conversation when party one drops enigmatic comments designed to give some, but not enough information about an exciting/juicy/secret topic and designed to prompt party two to respond with....what what what tell me.... this game playing fucks me off no end and i fall out over this with my friend later (update we dont speak for 4 months on the back of it)

high tea, or rather today champagne is taken with a current colleague and the birthday party of her one year old. i arrive early and not many are there, but soon some kind of people-kids-dog explosion happens and suddenly the modest suburban villa is bursting at the seams and filled with commotion, noise and finger food, after making myself mildly useful for half an hour i slip out on the pretext of walking my dog, a well know psycho-mutt and don't return. Fortunately my work-mate knows me well and realises it isn't personal.

dinner is alone time i make a surprisingly good Thai green curry, coincidentally what my friend at lunch had, food envy i guess

fortunately there are 3 or more meals tomorrow to look forward too all blissfully alone, i wonder whether reclusive tendencies are worrisome for someone in HR......