Land of the Living

I'm back. From outer space. And spending a lot of time on house insurance comparison sites, utilities comparison sites and dining table sites. If my arse sits on another sofa in a showroom it'll think I've retrained as chief arse to sofa person. 

stuff

Girl Crush

This woman is orange. She wears the palest lipstick known to man and uses so much eyeliner her eyes basically disappear. And for all those reasons I should be a bit nonplussed. However, I have a massive girl crush on her.

(And I have watched all the Sewing Bees in a row - and yes it is GBBO but with dresses instead of cakes)

Tattoo

I just caught sight of my 15 year old tattoo. It's on my back and I pretty much never see it. It's held up remarkably well for a small town tattoo artist that put his finger in places they shouldn't have been (my bum). Yay. 

More Houses

I'm beginning to think that I have lost the gene for getting excited about houses in real life. Gone. Today I saw what should have been the perfect house (2 actual full size bedrooms and not a shit hole) but whilst I was excited at the photos I walked around (the very small) living area and came to the conclusion that whilst I like it a lot they could do one for the asking price. So tomorrow will be negotiating £20k off what they're wanting and me saying things like, 

"She moved in 3 years ago and has done nothing to the house and she wants £40k more. I know you said she was a police woman but are you sure she hasn't been smoking crack?"

To try and avoid a melt down I have been looking at glitter dinosaur fascinators on Etsy. I love Etsy. You can basically find every sort of shit on there. Who wouldn't want a purple triceratops wandering around on their head?

House Finding Blues

For the last 6 weeks I have devoted my life to Rightmove and scouring individual estate agent sites in the hope of finding a house that isn't ridiculously overpriced and that would fit a normal couple in as opposed to the Borrowers. 

I don't mind the internet bit so much, it's dealing with the wanky estate agents that gets me down. I have to be pleasant to them for a start which really is not my bag. Then I have to try and juggle a Saturday to ensure that we can see 4 unsuitable properties in a time frame that does not mean there's 2 hours to kill 'on the wrong side of town' so we end up in a caff with some hungover hoodrats commenting how they'd wear MonseiurB's trainers and my handbag. Yes. This did happen. Yes. I did think they were going to mug us. Luckily I had some scalding hot tea. Watch out! I have boiling brown water in a mug and I'm not afraid to use it!

But most of all it's the shit I get off the agents on the Monday when I have to field the 'feedback' calls. I mostly want to say, 

"You're a child who is paid to literally open a door. When I ask questions about planning/previous extensions/GENERAL SHIT YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT WHEN YOU'RE TRYING TO SELL A FUCKING HOUSE you give me an answer followed by, "But don't quote me on that". AKA YOU DON'T KNOW THE ANSWER". "

Instead I have to find a polite way of saying, "This house is overpriced for the fact it's 1.5 bedrooms and doesn't have a bath." One who we shall call PhillipTheChild, because his name was Phillip and he was a child, had the audacity to tell me he knew how much I really wanted this house and could I put in a higher offer. The answer was no. I couldn't put in a higher offer. Another told me I was very quiet when looking around the house. I bit my tongue instead of saying, "I'm quiet because it's a total shit hole and I could be in the pub now lamenting the lack of a house instead of standing here. Talking to you."

So the sooner a house is found the better.

But most of all the best time for me to deal with estate agents is when I'm on my period because then I am curt and don't take any bullshit. Curiously, they're nicer to me than when I'm attempting to pretend I'm not a horrible bitch. Hmm. Lesson learned perhaps. 

I'm selling some stuff....

Question

If you're an individual that represents victims of child abuse should you enjoy this? 

On a Motherf***ing Train

I write this at 12:34 on the Eurostar to Paris. The mornin started with 2 glasses of champagne, breakfast and a sighting of Peaches Geldof (pregnant but stupid, stupid thin). I think I'm a bit wasted but when I have the above train picnic to get through it's only right I power on through.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone.

My Mad Fat Diary

I don't think I'm the 'demographic' for My Mad Fat Diary (it's on E4 so I'm about 15 years too old for the programming) but I still really like it. Most of all there is an acoustic version of Return of the Mack in the first episode. Of course it's brilliant. 

Woo

If you've ever wondered what Vivienne Westwood's vagina looks like go to the ICA for Juergen Teller's 'Woo' exhibition. There are other things there too that are nice. And then you can have lovely cocktails when you are done. 

HOW OLD?

The problem with starting a new job is that no one knows for sure how old you are so enivitably you are asked, down the pub, when everyone is lubricated enough to be brave enough to ask. 

Last week a 27 year old was moaning about being old. I pointed out that she really REALLY isn't old and need to chill out a bit. She asked me how old I was (I think she thought I was younger *AIRPUNCH YEEEESSSSSSS*) and when I told her I was 29 she nearly fell off her chair. 

Her: You really don't look 29

Me: Is that because I dress like a clown?

Her: Hmmmmmm. Do you use creams?

Me: *Long dramatic pause* Yes. Yes I do. A fucking lot of creams. 

I can not sleep. This has caused me to do the following completely irrational things;

1: Watch Ted. It is total toilet;

2: Get angry that I'm watching Ted on a 15in MacBook Pro as opposed to a 21inch iMac (First World Problems);

3: Read half of a book I have already decided is total toilet but I can't afford to dl another from Amazon; and finally

4: Cry because I miss my boyfriend. I saw him 3 days ago. 

I might have to neck some codeine just to pass out. 

Hypothetically Speaking...

You know when you bang on about looking for a film for ages and having difficulty finding it? You know when your DVD drive fails on your Mac and you're in the process of backing up your shit as you're off to the 'Genius Bar' the next day? You know when you find that film you've been looking for for months in your downloads? And you realise you're so fucking zeitgeist (let's call it zeitgeist as opposed to fucktardary) you downloaded it and you forgot about it? That.

More importantly, has anyone had a DVD drive fail on an iMac? Mine has. Does this mean a shiny new slim iMac? Does it? DOES IT? *doubts it*

2013

I have given up on New Year's Resolutions as I ultimately fail and then I am sad so have a picture of my new bag I obtained for Christmas. It's bad enough it's by Alexander Wang and everyone sniggers at the word wang but now all my friends have started calling it ScrotBag as they believe it looks like a scrotum. Alas, I have started to call it ScrotBag too. I think it may stick.