It's slightly worrying when a friend comes to visit from Sydney with the message: "Oh your mom told me to tell you to wash your jeans, and if you don't I'm supposed to wash them when you're not looking". Haha, I miss my parents.
Tuesday 23 June 2009
Tuesday 16 June 2009
Little Victory
This cursor has behaved more like a metronome on ecstasy. I type, the cursor flies across the page. I stop, it flashes back at me; blinking mockingly. I think, the cursor accelerates leaving a trail of text in its wake. It pauses and catches its breath, waiting for me. I read what has been typed, then without thinking the cursor moves from right to left undo-ing everything. This periodic movement has been an on going theme all night. Each time I type, I re-read and delete it. Re-word then delete it. Alas, sometimes the thoughts and words just don't sync up. So here I am, blogging about my anthropomorphic cursor.
When it comes down to complaint letters my emotions always trend the same. I'm generally the victim of some travesty which pisses me off. Self-righteous and all I pen this injustice to somebody who cares. This is where things get a little strange, these spiels serve no purpose other than to entertain. I get a certain satisfaction writing these letters and deep down I like to think people get some value out of reading them. Don't get me wrong, I don't go around complaining about anything. I start off angry and end up laughing.
All letters are signed with my full name, contact address and phone number. Generally, I don't get a reply. So it came as a surprise when I sent off a typical whinge to my bank and received this as a reply.
I'm glad to report it didn't tick and contained complimentary wine. I wonder if it's poisoned...
When it comes down to complaint letters my emotions always trend the same. I'm generally the victim of some travesty which pisses me off. Self-righteous and all I pen this injustice to somebody who cares. This is where things get a little strange, these spiels serve no purpose other than to entertain. I get a certain satisfaction writing these letters and deep down I like to think people get some value out of reading them. Don't get me wrong, I don't go around complaining about anything. I start off angry and end up laughing.
All letters are signed with my full name, contact address and phone number. Generally, I don't get a reply. So it came as a surprise when I sent off a typical whinge to my bank and received this as a reply.
I'm glad to report it didn't tick and contained complimentary wine. I wonder if it's poisoned...
Monday 8 June 2009
June 2009
June. Our return Eurostar from Belgium to London was delayed by a meagre 30 minutes. As a nice gesture the kind people at Eurostar offered all patrons affected by the delay a free one-way journey on the Eurostar valid for the next year. Coupon in hand I headed to Paris for the first week in June. I had two goals this trip: Catch up with some Sydney-siders and attempt some "proper" Parisian sightseeing.
June. We are approaching the mid point of 2009. What a torrid start to the year. My trip to Paris marks the end of travel for an entire month. I long to sit down and do nothing this weekend. Not too sure if it has to do with being overseas or me getting older but time seems to be riffling by at a million miles an hour. There's always some birthday, some fare well, somebody visiting, some excuse to be doing something. The London week knows no bounds. Musicals, movies, exercise, shopping, social sport, dinner, drinks, partying. It can happen on any night!
June. Start of the month and we are still experiencing a sub-optimal Summer. Last I checked we were hovering on around a daily average of 14 degrees. Add to that overcast skies, scattered showers and Tube disruptions. It's been a pretty average start to the season. These reasons aren't enough to warrant my current state of disconnect. It possibly has to do with the mass exodus of expatriates packing up and leaving London. Visa issues and job redundancies appear to be the main culprit forcing people back home. Strangely enough this emptiness of having London friends leave has been offset by visiting friends from back home. This and the anticipation of seeing old friends in the not too distant future.
June. We are approaching the mid point of 2009. What a torrid start to the year. My trip to Paris marks the end of travel for an entire month. I long to sit down and do nothing this weekend. Not too sure if it has to do with being overseas or me getting older but time seems to be riffling by at a million miles an hour. There's always some birthday, some fare well, somebody visiting, some excuse to be doing something. The London week knows no bounds. Musicals, movies, exercise, shopping, social sport, dinner, drinks, partying. It can happen on any night!
June. Start of the month and we are still experiencing a sub-optimal Summer. Last I checked we were hovering on around a daily average of 14 degrees. Add to that overcast skies, scattered showers and Tube disruptions. It's been a pretty average start to the season. These reasons aren't enough to warrant my current state of disconnect. It possibly has to do with the mass exodus of expatriates packing up and leaving London. Visa issues and job redundancies appear to be the main culprit forcing people back home. Strangely enough this emptiness of having London friends leave has been offset by visiting friends from back home. This and the anticipation of seeing old friends in the not too distant future.
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