Friday 10 July 2009

Quick reminder - my blog has moved...

Hi there – I have now moved my blog to the following address:
www.norefundculture.com

It’s still very much ‘You’ve Been Crumped’ but with the added element of ‘No Refund Culture’. An explanation of what this is all about can be read on the new blog by clicking here.

Sunday 5 July 2009

My blog has moved

Hi there - I have now moved my blog to the following address:

www.norefundculture.com

It's still very much 'You've Been Crumped' but with the added element of 'No Refund Culture'. An explanation of what this is all about can be read on the new blog by clicking here.

I have moved it to a new place so that it is easier to use (and hopefully looks a bit better) - let me know what you think of the new look. The new theme on the blog is fun as in the top right hand corner as the reader you can change the colours depending on your mood.

If you follow me please change the RSS feed or the address in your reader.

If you have kindly linked to me in your blogroll then it would be great if you could change the web address.

Thanks, Neil

Thursday 2 July 2009

Modern living: Automation drives me bingo bango

There is an old adage that ‘if it isn’t broke don't fix it’. I wish that organisations would remember this, especially when it comes to automation of customer service processes that seemed to work perfectly well prior to the implementation of an algorithm.

The biggest culprit is clearly the telephone helpline. I am sure that on paper they somehow make sense, i.e. money is being saved somewhere along the line. But what about the hapless mug on the end of phone? ‘Cause that's how you end up feeling.

How many times, having dialled the number, typing in endless hash tags and single digit numbers (a #1#5#4#1#5#2…) to navigate through endless menu options and then listening to muzak for 15 plus minutes you end up:
  • With the phone being accidentally hung up as the operator answers

  • With the line going dead as it simply times out

  • Hanging up in pure frustration having been bored to death by a voice 'artist' who keeps telling you how they are ‘experiencing a higher than average volume of calls’

The whole telephone thing drives me crazy (top tip is just press nothing and often, after being prompted loads of times to press buttons, you get whizzed through to a person - RESULT).

A further example of automation craziness was last night. While waiting on the platform to come back on a train from Birmingham New Street station, I heard the following announcement: ‘I am sorry that the 22:30 to London Euston will be delayed…’ This again came from an automated system. In this instance ‘WE are sorry…’ would be better. I don’t want an apology from an automated system – I will let it apologise for the collective train company – but a computer generated human voice sorry just doesn’t wash.

This post was actually started on my Blackberry as I sat in the new and improved (!) post office, on the High Street in Camden. And yes folks, you guessed it they have gone all automated on us. Gone are the sheep pen ropes that zig zagged in front of the counters (obviously they were unloved – us Brits HATE queuing) and now we have a deli counter ticket system – one where you take a numbered ticket and wait your turn. This is complimented with a front of house refit – now more white with red, rather than red with white and faux red leather modern(ish) looking couches.

On paper I can see that this is a BRILLIANT idea – I can see the concept, the storyboard, I bet in the marketing team meeting it was fabulous. But guess what – it doesn’t work. Basically I waited for one whole hour – I’ve never queued in a post office for that long – ever. You cannot tell how long the wait is going to be – you just sit there – ageing.

When my number got called I had to stop myself from screaming out ‘House’ like I was in a bingo hall (I was surrounded by sweet old ladies). People were moaning and arguing with the staff left, right and centre – generally a miserable and depressing experience – well done Post Office.

One thought I have had is that this has been done on purpose. The point being to force people to do more things online. Create a bingo hall and folk like me won’t want to go on in there.

Monday 29 June 2009

Forget Pablo, may I introduce Neil Picasso...

I was hopeless at drawing at school. Have a go at doing your own at Mr Picasso Head.

Saturday 27 June 2009

Modern living: Brandtastic and when they aren’t

A friend of mine, who also works in PR, showed my blog to her (lovely and very smart) boyfriend and he came across my post about my now dusty Cartier watch. He made a comment along the lines of “I like the way Neil writes, but he works in PR, doesn’t that mean that he should be all about the brand? I mean isn’t building brands what you guys do for a living?”

When I was told this I immediately got defensive (not too dramatically mind) and explained that my problem is not with brands themselves but rather when a brand lets you down, as Cartier did to me.

I have reread the Cartier watch post and can see that I might need to clarify my position a little. So thank you friend’s boyfriend for your insight. So here I go...

I do believe in the value of brands and yes part of what I do for a living is to build belief in them. I think that brands are powerful and by their very nature build loyalty – strong invisible ties that keep you coming back for more. They inspire us and give us a warm fuzzy glow when we interact with them.

Some of my favourites are:
  • Clothes: Paul Smith, Nicole Farhi and Hugo Boss
  • Electrical stuff: Sony , Toshiba and Miele
  • Food: Sainsbury and Prêt-a-Manger
  • Department stores: John Lewis
  • Skin care: Clarins
  • Cars: Mercedes Benz
  • Sports clothing: Nike

This then extends into countries (Italy, Spain, Thailand and India), artists (Chris Bush), where I like to go and see films (Vue), the ice cream I love (Haagen Dazs) and even bins (Brabantia) I buy for my home (I’ve got three of them).

So I am an official brand lover and from my list of brands above you will have already got a feel for me as a person – drawing from your experience (whether as a fellow brand devotee or just having seen marketing relating to that brand such as an advert or maybe even an engaging viral). This short list of brands blends into a profile of me. Not all of me, not a definitive "yep I got this chap sussed" but more of a flavour.

Brands are about human interaction, they are built by organisations which are run by people and the consumer of that brand, who again are people, derive enjoyment from buying, visiting, using, etc, etc, etc, that brand.

As part of the brand experience there are always going to be times when a product lets you down – it’s normal, things break, they are after all just stuff, and stuff is fallible. I can cope when something screws up. What I hate is when something does go wrong and you give the brand an opportunity to correct it, and following this plea the response is "bugger off". They don’t try and keep you, they just spit you out. This is the problem with brands that don’t live up to the proposition, as Cartier did in my experience, where a ‘lifetime guarantee’ guaranteed absolutely nothing. We want brands (with all our heart) to deliver on the promise.

As the saying goes ‘To err is human’, and when we make an error we should apologies where necessary and strive to get it right. This is what great brands do (I will maybe post some more on great brand experiences in the future). The very process of correcting a problem reinforces our belief that our decision to engage with the brand was a good one in the first place, building more trust, more loyalty.

Phew, that was a long post, I hope that I have explained myself a little better. Anyway I’m off for a Diet Coke now ;+))

Friday 26 June 2009

Loved stuff: Bad yet thrilling memories

Just watched a Michael Jackson tribute programme where they played his best videos – boy they were great tunes and the video spectacles that that he created were amazing.

To be honest I haven’t been a huge fan over the last decade and some of the ‘reported’ elements of his life were frankly a bit worrying - reported being the operative word. I have been the first person to be fascinated by his changing appearance and making quite frankly disparaging comments.

It is so terribly sad that he has died, especially as he was about to do the mega London concerts and was going to get the satisfaction of being back on top – where he clearly enjoyed being and with his talent for singing and performance he did deserve.

I am feeling a bit queasy about the whole thing: how the media is suddenly being so positive about the man – having torn him down so hard for such a long period. I am sure that more money will be made as a result of his death by the vultures who were doing very nicely on the money front on the drag down.

However as I said I took part in being fascinated by the man and fuelling the tear down. Yep, feeling a bit rubbish about it.

You just think that if he could have heard all this positive stuff being said now that it might have given him a boost that, let’s face it, all of us need from time to time.

All very sad – but listening and watching the videos on the box has brought back two childhood memories that I had totally forgotten and which have made me smile...

NUMBER ONE: I had the Thriller album on cassette tape – I was eight years old and I absolutely LOVED it. I played it so much that I stretched the tape. So now when I hear any of the songs from the album I actually think that they are being played a tiny bit too fast. I had a Thriller poster on my bedroom wall and Elaine (my little sister) and I used to act out the Thriller video morning after morning for months.

NUMBER TWO: I was 14 and the day that Bad came out my dad took me to town in the car and I stood in the queue before the record shop opened to be one of the first to get it. I had never done that before (or since). It was a big moment and I remember rushing home and playing that LP over and over again – it was the coolest thing ever.

All the ‘RIP MJ’ on Twitter seems on the surface a bit too much: overly media generated and desperate, but do you know what, he does deserve to rest in peace and he did inspire millions of people.

Thursday 25 June 2009

Word from nowhere: Cognizant

Yes my friends, with hindsight, the the word 'aware' is definitely more than sufficient.

I used this interesting word in the pub earlier this evening. Ouch - contact the Plain English Campaign.

Wednesday 24 June 2009

Loved stuff: Dance goes viral...

I love this video, MaestroJ cited it as an illustration of how something on the web goes viral through word of mouth.

Enjoy...

Monday 22 June 2009

Crumptales: Hammer Cottage of Horror

The weekend in Shropshire was a source of inspiration for the old blog. Here is the third and final installment...

We stayed in a quaint little cottage which was on the Walcot Hall estate. It is called the Dipping Shed on account of the fact that they once dunked woolly beings in chemicals to keep them tick and flea free. It is suitably cottage like - just want us Londoners need from our weekends away.

However there was something very strange about this place...

Here is the cottage...
Here is the lovely view...
However, the interior was like the set of a b-movie horror film...


Then it got a whole lot worse...

Sunday 21 June 2009

Modern living: Stress gets everywhere

If you are a townie like me and think that our modern urban lives are stressful, then please spare a though to our countryside dwelling friends...



I spotted this on the notice board in the the foyer of the Shropshire church where Ali and Emily were hitched.

Loved stuff: Weddings of people in love

Just back from a lovely weekend in Shropshire (which is on the English-Welsh borders – embarrassingly I thought that the county was north of London – dahh). Anyhow, I now know where Shropshire is located and can confirm that is a charming county and well worth a visit.

We were at the wedding of our friends Ali and Emily. I really do love a wedding – I am after all a hopeless romantic and thrive on being surrounded by positive emotion. I delight in hearing people say heartfelt things about each other.

They are a gorgeous couple, deliriously happy and properly in love with each other. I did have a minor inner panic when Emily was more than half an hour late for the church service, and at one point Ali walked outside. Basically no drama on this front at all: Ali just needed the loo and Emily was making sure she looked gorgeous. She didn’t disappoint. She is a very beautiful and talented young lady and she actually made her own dress which was amazing.

Emily and Ali are actors / work in the world of theatre, so as a result they have a very flamboyant group of friends from the creative arts. The speeches were absolutely ace (particularly Ali’s friends who were toastmaster and best man) – very entertaining and definitely the best I have ever heard at a wedding.

Ali’s speech was lovely – his emotions broke at the end of his speech as he told us how lucky he was that Emily was his wife. My adrenal gland gave me a little spurt of adrenaline and he had a wee moment of controlled tears welling in my eyes – fabulous!

They worked so hard to make the day perfect: and it absolutely was...

Monday 15 June 2009

Loved stuff: hats (part two)

'Fabulous' Blogger insert picture functionality is driving me totally mad - so have had to revert to a part two (to stop all the pictures jumping around so much)...


Halloween boat part - Mummy mask as hat - Vix embraced and Millennium Dome (know the O2 ) in the background:














At Nadia and Gareth's 'Big Jewish Wedding' - loved my suede purple kippah:
















My thirtieth birthday party fancy dress (goodies and baddies themed) - I was Genghis Khan:








Loved stuff: hats (part one)

I don't wear hats that often - but I was looking through tagged Facebook pics of me and there are a variety of hats on show (also demonstrates my love of the fancy dress party)...

Charlotte's hen do:



















Hat from Prague worn in the cold of Lapland:














I loved this hat - my favourite festival hat for three years in a row:



















'Chav' party - loving the Burberry - Hena's very shiny tights and grumpy Chav Vix in the background:








Saturday 13 June 2009

Word from nowhere: Dopey inter-relationship phrases

This doesn't strictly fit into my 'Word from nowhere' category. In fact it could be in a new category called 'Words from a known source that you say all the time with your partner and make you laugh'. But hey let's go crazy and keep it in the former category ...

Chad and I have a number of daft phrases which we have accumulated over the last six years (it was our anniversary yesterday) and use all the time. Here are a few...

  • “It’s like Beirut in here!”: when a place we are in is really noisy or really quiet (this comes from a Catherine Tate character)
  • "I knew before": this is in a French and Saunders sketch. You have to say this really loud and the 'before' needs to last about five seconds. This is definitely one for when we are indoors at home!
  • "I can do that!": another Catherine Tate special - a very liberating catchphrase as it encourages you to do anything
  • "Have you ever heard of a thing called Butter? Gold in colour and slippery to the touch": If I say the word 'butter', as in "Could you pass me the butter please?", then Chad out of reflex says this (it's a scene from Little Britain)
  • "Oh bless": we say this one in a sickly sweet way, mimicking this comedy airhostess that served us on a plane who said it ALL the time i.e. "Hi there, oh bless, would you like some tea? Oh bless you, here is your tea of bless, thanks, bless" -no kidding it was brilliant
  • "That madam is a one cent coin": This has to be said in a dramatic, breathy and condescending way. We say this if someone does something unintentionally annoying. This one is from the funniest shop worker in the history of people that have worked in a shop. A Little Britain character in her own right who works on a cross Channel ferry

So share with me some of your dopey catchphrases please..

Thursday 11 June 2009

Sensible(ish) post: High definition blogging!

Here is a post from today on my work blog called 'High definition blogging!'. I cannot take credit for the post title (which is inspired if you read the post). My business partner came up with it. She is on fire today and came up with a great creative theme for a pitch that we are preparing for next week.

Anyhow, the summary of the post is:

  • Pollster surveyed British GPs and patients on their use of the web
  • Wrote in a magazine article that one in four patients were blogging
  • I called the pollster author to check up on this crazy stat - turns out by 'blogging' they meant 'reads' nor 'writes' a blog (odd definition)
  • Minor concern that this figure is now going to get touted around the UK pharmaceutical industry as gospel
  • Great research though and the market research agency have what looks like an amazing data set that I would love to investigate

Tuesday 9 June 2009

Grumped: BA turning into Ryanair

In a massive traffic jam on the M25 having been picked up from T5 by a taxi driver. So a Grumped moment is at my finger tips...

Milan trip was good. I even managed to catch a bit of the old part of the city with a late night walk followed by an alfresco beer with Chair and our my lovely client. All very pleasant although it was pointed out that my eyes were blood shot and I looked like hell (the daily disposable contact lenses are very unforgiving after 18 hours of wear).

My Grumped moment relates to my flight out to Milan on Saturday.

I stupidly attempted to check in two bags. My micro suitcase and a laptop bag (doubling up as an 'on-site event bag'). The latter contained scissors and all manner of other sharp pointy things that you cannot take through Security - and hence why I wanted to check it in.

Anyway I wasn't allowed to without paying £35 pounds as my ticket only allowed one bag to be checked in. This was despite the fact that both bags together weighted less than my allowance.
Most annoying and out from my mouth popped the title of this post. This was met by a harsh look - batted back with my most smiley of smiles. 'Frosty' then couldn't - I guessed faked - not being able to print me a receipt and inconvenienced me further with a trip to the baggage desk where 'Incompetent' was unable after 10 minutes to print me a receipt.

Learnings from experience:
  • Don't fly British Airways - I know they are our national carrier but they are expensive and don't give you a better experience
  • Remember to get your jumbo suitcase from storage before you fly
  • Pay a few pounds to have your small case cocooned in 200 metres of security plastic wrapping. As the Spice Girls said "two becomes one" and you don't pay the extra (as I did on my return journey)

So ziga zig argh BA. I hope the £35 compensates for my new BA avoidance strategy.

Word from nowhere: Vomitus

I have worked in healthcare communications for a long time now but yesterday was the first time I have had to use the correct medical term for chundering (delightful).

Another favourite medical term of the same genre is 'Flatus'. Don't know what this is? If you had flatulance you would be passing a number of them!

Whoever said PR was glamourous didn't work in healthcare
PR ;+)

Saturday 6 June 2009

Leaning Tower of Pizza (boxes)

In Milan working this weekend. Remember the TV show 'Catchphrase' with Roy Walker? His catch phrase was say what you see..



Thursday 4 June 2009

Loved stuff: My two favourite YouTube Classics

Ninja cat - so funny...



Brilliant elephant...

Wednesday 3 June 2009

Green, maroon and moronic

We have European Parliamentary elections tomorrow (not local ones where I live). I’ve already cast my vote via the post – I’ve missed out voting in the past because of ending up not being able to get to a polling station in time (normally because of work) so I have been a firm believer in the security of a postal vote for the past 10 years.

So I’ve already marked the ‘X’ on my ballot paper to be counted. I’ve voted for the party that run my Borough, who are also the party of my MP (I live in Brent and so feel free to do your own homework). I can tell you that I didn’t vote for the Green Party – and today just reinforced why...

We got back to Camden from a prospective client meeting at lunchtime. So a colleague and I jumped out of the cab and dashed to a favourite sandwich eatery to get, surprise, surprise, a sandwich. As we started walking down Camden High Street we could hear someone ranting on a megaphone in the distance.

We turned round a few times and as the traffic started up from the traffic lights the words ‘Vote Green tomorrow’ came into ear shot. Then the orator came into view. A lady passenger of a maroon Toyota Prius was heading toward us down the road, window down, megaphone hanging out of the car with luminous green ‘Vote Green’ posters sellotaped to the rear windows. Again she cried ‘Vote Green Tomorrow’.

Now my colleague and I looked at each other and as I though it, my colleague yelled out “Get on your bike and stop driving around in a car”. Green lady yells back “It’s an electric car – vote Green tomorrow”, as they sped off into the distance.

Man oh man – so many things funny yet fundamentally wrong about the whole thing:

  1. Where does Green lady think that electricity comes from? Let me tell you: the burning of fossil fuels or nuclear power
  2. A Prius does use a bit of electricity but we do have to remember that they actually use more petrol to get themselves around
  3. Aural spamming is not a good way of persuading people to do anything you want them to do
  4. The car was maroon, yes I know, maroon – can a car possibly be sprayed a worse colour? Who buys a maroon car?

This is the problem with single issue organisations – if you are single issue you lose all credibility the second you don’t totally act in line with that single issue.

I think that the environment is hugely important and a difficult thing to balance with our modern lives of, to name just a few things, cars, planes and doing our shopping online (where our little one-off purchases get whizzed from across the globe). It’s a huge quandary.

I don’t want be too disparaging of the Greens. Single issue political parties are important. They keep us on our toes, we need people with extreme issues (as long as they don’t cause genuine harm) – it’s just that shrieking from an ugly coloured, pseudo-environmental credentialed car expecting the recipients to be mobilised into action is, well, just plain moronic.

Monday 1 June 2009

Loved stuff: BBC Radio 4 - Today

I love the Today programme on Radio 4. I drive to work most mornings (I HATE the evil Tube) and I secretly like it if the worst stretch on my journey (the Finchley Road) is rammed full of traffic and I end up in a mini jam. It means I get an extra 10 minutes added to my journey and I get to hear more of my favourite radio show.

I love talk radio and the gang on Today are always brilliant - shaping the media agenda but striking the right balance with the random and quirky stories. I love all the presenters but am really loving Evan Davis (also presents Dragon's Den - TV gold) who is my favourite at the moment. He was a bit shaky when he started on the show a while back but is totally ace now. He did a great interview with Mr Brown this morning.

Mr Davis might be becoming a a new 'weird crush' for me - OK he's just not Rodrigo Santoro - but (along with the rest of the Today crew) he is both funny and professional and above all really smart. I also have a weird crush on Andrew Marr - it's the intensely smart / witty thing going on again (!!!). Anyway I digress...

As a PR person I have pitched the Today programme a few times - I haven't managed to get anything proactively on it yet (even huge stories that have gone across all news channel wide including the BBC). Ho hum. Anyway, despite the fact that they have never succumbed to a Crump pitch, I still love them.

Saturday 30 May 2009

Loved stuff: My garden

I really love being in our garden here is the wilds of Cricklewood, London. The garden was actually the main draw when we bought the flat.

Previously I had lived in a much smarter part of town, in a much bigger flat. The problem was that it was top floor with no outside space. I lived there for six years and kidded myself that no garden = no problem. Anyway thankfully I wised up and when Chad and I moved in together and got the new place, getting a garden was top of the list.

As the weather was great last weekend and summer has arrived in London we did a big tidy up in the garden: pressure washing the decking, putting in new plants, moving unhealthy looking plants to spots where they might do better etc.

The weather is glorious again this morning, so here are a few snaps that I took this morning...

Gorgeous allium in bloom:

Shiny disco balls:
The garden shed that cost way too much:

Monday 25 May 2009

Anti-Grumped: B&Q redemption...

I posted recently about the B&Q glue disaster.

My follow-up on this is that the glue washed out of my clothes and my beloved Armani jacket came out of ‘Paradise’ with the glue removed. I took my dry cleaning bill back to B&Q. The nice duty manager from before was there. He looked relieved that he didn't have to pay for a new jacket and gave me the dry cleaning money plus a card to get 10% my shopping.

So I stocked up on plants for the garden (all now planted).

So not a bad outcome from the Orange DIY establishment in the end then.

Crumptales: Taking flight

I have lost count of the number of flights that I taken in my life. For the last ten years I have spent loads of time on planes travelling all over the place for work – I have been to some amazing places as a result.

I was actually quite late to taking flight. The first time I went on a plane I was about ten on a family holiday to Greece (up until then we had always been on holiday to France in the car – three children in the back of a BMW – you can imagine the bickering that went on. Poor Mum and Dad!)

There are two great stories from that first flight...

STORY ONE: My sister Elaine (about nine years old at the time) and I boarded the flight with huge excitement and settled into our seats. We were fascinated by all the magazines, safety information card and I remember wanting to keep the sick bag as a memento. As the plane was at the start of the runway about to take off, Elaine turns to me and said really loudly “I thought airhostesses were meant to be pretty”.

A second later there was a loud cough from behind us. We both turn to look through the gap between the seats to see an airhostess in the jump seat glaring back at us! We then look at Mum who is across the aisle and giving us the famous death stare. Oh Lordy.

As if that wasn’t enough...

STORY TWO: Involves just little ten year old me. Half way through the flight I need to go to the loo. I had been watching everyone intently during the flight to try and work out the queuing protocol. So I had this sussed and I asked Mum for permission and she said “off you go then”. I waited for my turn in line.

On entering the cubicle I was totally fascinated by all the little compartments for the tissues, loo roll, bin etc. I even had a squirt of the hand cream. While settling down on the loo seat I spied this long red cord, that looked like a bathroom light pull. I was looking at it thinking “I wonder what that does?” So as any curious self-respecting ten year old sat on the loo would do I gave the cord a good hard yank. Disappointingly nothing happened for at least 15 seconds, but then all hell broke loose.

There was a pounding hand on the toilet door and cries of “are you OK in there?” I was frozen solid unable to move or speak. About five seconds later the door was flung open and there stood before me was none other than the ‘ugly’ airhostess, with about five passengers standing behind her all trying to get a view of the ‘emergency’ taking place. I still couldn’t speak at this point and the airhostess kindly closed the door with a sneer on her face.

I think I stayed in the loo for only a minute or so more – it felt like hours though. I finally plucked up the courage and exited the cubicle (having had another squirt of hand cream for good measure). It was the walk of shame back to my seat – everyone was looking at me and sniggering – I was so mortified. Elaine thought that the whole thing was hilarious and spent the rest of the flight carping at me – making that tuneful “wah, wah, wah, warrrrrrhhhh!” noise.

Anyway, I wasn’t put off flying and as a university student I actually worked at Gatwick airport during my ‘holidays’ as a passenger service agent or a PSA as were known (EVERYTHING to do with airports has a three letter acronym). So while flying is not always as eventful as that first flight, I do find the whole thing interesting having experienced airports from both sides of the fence.

This post has made me remember loads of hilarious working at the airport stories. I’m gonna write these up in the future. My prompts for these future posts are:
  • Stage fright / first plane boarding announcement
  • Two Americans / four tickets
  • Waving in a flight
  • The sweaty lady / foundation issue
  • Italians / boarding by seat row number (or not!)
  • The Adams Family goes on holiday to Bulgaria
  • The Rastafarian and the hat
  • Friend / carbon copy tickets / rude word / dismissal
  • Old Indian lady / her patient six hour wait
  • Family on the wrong coach with the England cricket team

PS: The ugly airhostess actually wasn’t that ugly – she just had really bad pink, blue AND orange eye shadow caked on her lids
PPS: Let’s not discuss my carbon footprint on the flying front – that would be too terrifying to consider

Friday 22 May 2009

Word from nowhere: Juxtapose

This is going to be a new section to my blog: words that I have said for the first time.

Today I used the word 'juxtapose' in a team meeting.

Not sure where that came from - pretentious, moi... N x

Oh here's another word - insomnia!!! I cannot sleep but I can hear Chad and both cats snoring!!!

Saturday 16 May 2009

Grumped: Cartier watches

A few years ago when I was employed by someone else to run their agency (rather than run my own) and I was earning too much money (ergo: I don’t earn loads now!!!), I made a very frivolous purchase.

That purchase was a Cartier watch - it cost several thousand pounds. The thrill of buying it was amazing and it came in the BIGGEST box that you have ever seen (about 30 cm by 30 cm by 20 cm) to house a watch. But the box did come with two straps (a metal one and a leather one) plus an all important lifetime guarantee – which I was told by the jewellers to keep safe and they did all the necessary stamping to it to prove purchase etc.

I have to say that I really loved that watch and wore it every day for more than five years. Now a while back it started to lose time and making a weird clucking noise. So I hocked out the lifetime guarantee from the aforementioned box and took it back to the jewellers. They filled out all the paperwork, keeping the lifetime guarantee documentation and I paid the £20 charge to get the watch sent off to Cartier. I got a call from the jewellers about two weeks later telling me to come and pick up my watch. So in I go to collect it. On arrival and I am informed that Cartier has said that they cannot mend the watch under the lifetime guarantee because they believe the watch has been ‘knocked’.

Now first of all I cannot recall the fateful knock – but the chances are that a watch is going to get ‘knocked’. For hell’s sake it’s a watch that has wrapped around my left wrist for five years. Secondly, and this is the bit that really annoyed me, Cartier said that for £300 they could service the watch and that they felt that would fix the problem!!!

There is no way that I am going to pay Cartier another £300 to get that watch fixed. I am not sure if I am cutting off my nose to spite my face here but I am really cross about the principle that I made this purchase with a belief in a globally renown luxury brand’s lifetime guarantee.

I have read the small print of the guarantee and it really does turn out to be a worthless piece of paper with ‘get out’ after ‘get out’ clause. I have tried to search the Internet to see if other people share my frustration – but you cannot find anything as Google searches just bring up thousands of pages selling either fake or second hand Cartier watches.

With hindsight I look back on the Cartier purchase as something actually embarrassing. In these current credit crunch times, as us Westerners feel a bit squeezed and our charitable donations have declined, there are millions of people around the world who are suffering as a result. That watch now symbolises something a bit obscene and what is wrong with the world in which we all lived a few years back...
  • That I felt the need to demonstrate my worth by buying into the luxury myth - a watch shouldn’t cost thousands of pounds – it’s just plain dumb
  • Big brands, such as banks and those purporting to be luxury are in many instances just hollow worthless shells – they have no substance or care for their customers and make them feel like duped fools

I am not a tree hugger (although I am sure that an embrace of a three hundred year old oak tree might help us put our small periods on this planet in perspective), however I do hope that as we all come out of this recession that we can individually and collectively wise up. That we recognise what is valuable, solid and worthy of our attention and investment.

Boy this post opened up a can of worms!

Sunday 10 May 2009

I feel sorry for houseplants

...I really do. They have such terrible lives of neglect and suffering. Nearly all my friends, family and work buddies are hopeless at looking after them. Now I am no Alan Titchmarch, but I am able to keep a plant alive and it is really simple. Here are my (insightful!) top tips:
  • Plants need light (some want direct light and some don’t). So that means (Hena) that a plant is not going to thrive in a room where the curtains are permanently closed

  • Plants need water. Not loads of water (or tea dregs – you know who you are!) where they end up having their poor roots suffocate. Plants roots (other than aquatic plants) need air in the soil so that can actually draw up water

  • Plants need food. Not all the time but every so often. Baby Bio is my plant food of choice
My favourite houseplant is the Peace Lilly (Spathiphyllum wallisii). Here is my pride and joy (I've had it for more than 10 years):


It is ace and easy to look after and blesses you every so often with lovely white flowers. The great thing about this plant is that it is really hard to kill. So when you get back to work, after two weeks of annual leave, and your Peace Lilly hasn’t been watered (by people that promised they would) and the leaves are actually lying on the desk – you simply give it a water and hey presto a day later the leaves are all perky and healthy looking.

It’s a fighter – it needs to be ‘cause it’s a tough world out there.

Thursday 7 May 2009

Loved stuff: Burgers

I read a great article in USA Today on a flight back from a meeting in Germany. The basis story was that President Obama did a dash out the White House (followed by huge troupe of press) to grab a burger for lunch. It was a most amusing little story, very human and West Wing like.

I'm so pleased that Mr President is partial to a burger because I love them - it really is one of my most favourite things to eat. Even in a smart restaurant I will often opt for burger heaven. Anyway I'm not going to bleat on (I have had about five hours sleep the last two nights and I need to crawl into the sack) in this post, but I really do like the burger.

PS: One of the best burgers in London is served a one minute walk away from my office at the Camden Bar and Kitchen. The burger is homemade and it is totally delicious.

Tuesday 5 May 2009

Loved stuff: Our Springle McDingles...

The Spingles are on sparkling form tonight. We've been at work today but my guess is that they have been sunbathing all day in the garden and now full of beans as a result. Sophie keeps running in and out of the room like she is on a yo yo. Even Tiggy (aka Fat Mama) is hyper mobile tonight.

I realised today that I hadn't posted any pictures of the beloved moggies on here, so may I introduce them...

Tiggy:














Note: confident gaze

Sophie:














Note: nervous gaze

Monday 4 May 2009

Stress monkey management

The genes we inherit help determine whether we have a cool head or a short fuse, scientists have found, according to The Daily Mail. Now I haven’t looked into this study in any great detail (I haven’t hunted out the original scientific paper), but I am a bit sceptical, based on stuff I have read in the past. The bottom line is that it is highly unlikely that a single gene could be assigned this attribute.

It does make sense that the way we react to a given stimulus might (among a load of factors) be down to how much our bodies releases neurotransmitters such as serotonin or dopamine (which ultimately comes from our genes), and maybe we end up a bit predisposed based on our genetic make-up. But at the end of the day I think that we choose how we react to a stimulus and most of the time this, I believe, is about conditioning and habits formed over time. Therefore it is possible, to relearn how you react to a given situation.

Now I’m not saying that it is easy to break an old habit like getting really angry and fly off the handle. But based on the fact that there are loads of studies that show that being angry is bad for your health it has got to be worth doing.People that know me well will know that at times I can be a stress monkey and can let things get on top of me. I do know how to channel this negative energy and not end up in stress hell – but I sometimes fail to enact the necessary thinking (because that is all I have to do) to deal with stress properly – which in turn has a rolling stone effect and just makes me feel more stressed.

Us humans are complicated wotsits, we spend too much on negative stuff and forget how fortunate we are. So this post is for you Crump. Remember it.

Sunday 3 May 2009

Loved stuff: Kirstie Allsopp

I love Kirstie Allsopp and I am really excited about her shift from property guru into homemaker extraordinaire. I hope that this is a new track for her. We need a British 'Martha Stewart'.

She has a new show called 'Kirstie's Homemade Home' and I just love it. It's my perfect TV programme: property, interior design, arts and crafts and a splash of shopping plus The Allsopp. She has been making stuff for a property she has done up in Devon - I am really jealous as she has got to do glass blowing and a whole load of other things that I also want to do. I have been inspired by The Allsopp and intend to up my arts and crafting quota in 2009.

She is a wonder and I just love her, according to the Wikipedia entry on her (as a result of her family's peerage) she can be referred to as The Honourable Kirstie Allsopp - how fab and I couldn't agree more. She also gets to work with Phil Spencer (lucky lucky lady).

I don't think that she has a website or blog of her own - she definitely should.

Saturday 2 May 2009

Loved stuff: Whiskers on kittens...










...are, like the lovely Julie Andrews sang, one of my favourite things.

We are staying at Rob and Sarah's this weekend. They have a new edition to their family. She is called Jasmine and is so cute. She likes to sit on your shoulders and fall asleep. So adorable - I'm in love.


Monday 20 April 2009

Crumptales: Seeing your names in lights, OK, raspberries...

It’s my birthday today. I have had two consecutive weekends of birthday fun. So today, the day that 36 years ago I arrived in the world, I am having a fun night in with Chad. We have had a ‘Chad Special’ meal (yummy chicken with gorgonzola and Parma ham) and we are watching Desperate Housewives as I type. Heaven.

Yesterday we had gang fun at Charlotte and Brendon’s. I got to feed my godson, who is having solid food shovelled into his mouth for two weeks now. It was brilliant fun. He was spitting out the veg (carrot and broccoli) but has miraculously learnt how to swallow the sweet apple and pear option – sweet tooth (well gums) – good boy. Anyway the little angel was put to bed and the grown-ups drank bear / wine and had a lovely Thai take-out. Fun, fun, fun.

The highlight of the evening was (apart from hanging out with my best friends) my birthday cake. Charlotte made it, it was delicious, and most importantly it had my name spelt out in raspberries – how fabulous. Thanks Charlotte.

The cake itself nearly included essence of lottiedigits. Not heard of it? Well let me explain. The Lotts was making the cake and was using a tea towel over the bowl to prevent the cake mix being splashed out by the electric whisk. The towel then got caught in the whisk and pulled it into the metal blades followed by the Lott’s hand which ended up mangled in with the whisk. After a bit of screaming good old Bren ran in the kitchen and hit the eject button to release the whiskie bits, towel and fingers.

Thank goodness that the cake mix was fine – otherwise Lotts would have been most annoyed.

Saturday 18 April 2009

Tripping the light, not so, fantastic

Last Easter weekend I reported the glue incident in relation to my DIYing. There was a further incident that weekend that involved me nearly electrocuting myself!

I have one of those handy gadgets to detect if there in any electrical wires behind a wall. I spent six hours last Saturday putting up this nifty metal sheeting on the kitchen wall. It was a real fiddle but I managed it (although during the last half an hour the fiddle factor went through the roof – as did my blood pressure). Before commencing this I ran this gadget (not sure what the proper name for it is) over the wall where I was working to check for metal and wires. There was a wire so I avoided drilling there. Simple hey!

Anyway I was packing up my tool boxes feeling very pleased with myself and then we decided to put up this magnetic knife strip on the wall. I totally forgot to do the gadget check. Chad was holding the hoover as I drilled through the tiles. Hole one no issue, hole two was a whole other story. As the drill went in there was a MASSIVE flash of light from the hole and all the lights at the back of the house went out. Chad and I just stared at each other for a few seconds in total shock. I had drilled straight through a wire. I was SO depressed for hours after this incident – I hate it when I am a muppet.

Anyway we spent most of this week walking around in the dark, but our electrician, Nico, came yesterday and fixed it all. He told us that the new consumer electrical unit that we had put in a month or so ago (as part of doing up the bathroom and kitchen) had saved my life!!! The old 1960’s one that we had in before wouldn’t have tripped so quickly and your truly might have been a gonna. How scary is that.

I live to tell the tale – result. Anyone need some DIY doing!!!

Friday 10 April 2009

Grumped: You can glue it if you B&Q it

Ok, ok, I know it is my own fault for not going to Homebase for my Easter weekend DIY needs...

Chad and I stupidly went to B&Q (groan) so it's my own fault for getting myself covered head to toes in contact adhesive.

It is especially my own fault because it was B&Q branded adhesive (ok it was 'IT' branded which is their rubbish kitchen range but you have to give me some dramatic license here), I mean it actually had a B&Q logo on it - so I was simply asking for trouble...

I pick up a tube of glue today in the 'Orange Hell' and the tube (and it turns out every other tube of glue in that box) had a split in the top of them. I walked down the aisle and with the tube in my hand, hear a weird squirting sound, and next thing I know I look down and the tube has covered me (jacket, cardigan, jeans, shoes and bag) in fringin' glue. I was so angry that I nearly took off through the leaking prefabricated roof. Poor Chad didn't know what to do (other than look a bit scared and suggest that we get another tube!!!). Thankfully he didn't laugh as I might have started crying as there was a major excess of adrenaline in my veins at that exact point.

Anyway I get dumped at the paint counter by an assistant with some wet wipes to try and get the glue off me - which I proceed to smear deep into the fibres of my clothes. After asking TWICE I was taken off to see the manager. He was actually very nice and wrote me a letter of apology on the spot (with instructions on the dry cleaning policy followed by the clothes replacement policy).

I am gutted that I have glue on my beloved and favourite Armani jacket. I hope that it can be saved in Paradise* or otherwise B&Q face a £600 replacement bill.

Anyway I HAVE to learn from this. Stop going to The Dump and go and see the lovely people at Homebase when I have DIY needs. They may be an extra five minutes drive away but I won't end up wanting to tie bricks to my feet and jump in a reservoir after I leave.

* The lovely dry cleaners on Parkway in Camden.

Just one Venice, give it to me...

Last weekend I had the absolute pleasure of visiting Venice, it is one of the most wow factor places I have ever been to - I loved it. The place is totally chaotic, falling down and just so desperately beautiful and romantic. It seems to cast its spell on everyone - everywhere you look are couples holding hands and having a damn good snog. Young or old this place makes you feel amazing.

I have been to quite a few cities in Italy, Verona, Florence, Siena, and Rome (which rocks), but Venice totally wins for me. The city is so familiar to the new visitor as it has been used as the set for lots of movies and adverts.

As a child the advert for Walls Cornetto had a massive impact on me. When you are ten years old you LOVE ice cream (I still do) and this particular brand represented the height of totally sophistication for me. On family outings (mainly to stately homes or castles - of which we visited hundreds) my sister and I, as the offer of an ice cream presented itself, used to beg for a Cornetto*. I cannot remember the exact price but they were always the most expensive option from the ice cream van or the sliding glass topped deep freeze at the gift shop. I would estimate that sis and I had a success rate of only ten per cent on scoring the Cornetto. Poor dad would plead poverty and so 'no, no they are too expensive'. But if he was feeling flush we used to get a Cornetto. I can actually recall a memory from more than 30 years ago of one such occasion when we 'won'. I can remember how happy that mint Cornetto made me as I sat on the steps of a castle, wearing my Popeye the Sailor Man t-shirt and favourite grey Hi-Tec trainers in the baking sun. Bliss.

So with this deeply rooted association between ice cream / happy family holidays and Venice it is not really surprising that I got a lump in my throat as we got onto the beautiful wood clad water taxi to speed us to the airport. Venice is an amazing place that is at the top of my list of places to go back to.

The Crumpometer is in the Green - with pink tinges, cooing doves, violin stings and the lapping of the gondolier's paddle in slightly sulphur smelling canal water.

*Baby brother Ian prefered a Mr Whippy which he used to smear over his angelic face

Brussels: good, but mainly bad and ugly

I write this post as I hurtle along on the Eurostar back to London having spent a full week with a client at a congress in the capital of Europe (and Belgium): Brussels. This is probably at least my thirtieth trip and time and time again it’s just amazing how this city continually fails to impress.

A trip to Brussels is more about the highlights: suddenly finding great stuff, little sparkles of joy, amongst the mire of total and utter crude. The whole city is full of truly grumpy people, far too many very scary and aggressive homeless people (I’d be hostile if I was homeless as well by the way), and generally a feeling that everyone, given the chance, would jump on the Eurostar, and like me experience the palpable sense of pleasure that grows proportionally in relation to the distance that you are sped away.

Now first of all, I must say that I feel quiet lucky this trip – I wasn’t robbed. A trip a few years back saw my laptop being nicked while waiting in a taxi queue. Not so for a colleague on this visit, who was accosted by some ‘drunks’ on his way back from a restaurant, only to find that they were in fact pickpockets who relieved him of his wallet. Poor Stuart.

On this trip there were some good bits; meeting up with two old work colleagues and going for a great dinner, as well as eating in two other fantastic restaurants with my super clients. One of these restaurants had a crazy menu of weird food combinations that were ace – amongst the choices were combinations of starter and main course that were billed to be ‘rejuvenating’, ‘detoxifying’ and ‘energising’. There was also a ‘pregnancy’ menu which I avoided.

But this is the thing about Brussels – the food is really good, excellent and I always enjoy it (and I am not a foodie), but pretty much everything else is well, rubbish, disappointing, irritating, or downright anger-inducing.

Other than being robbed which is never a good experience, elements that drove the Crumpometer into the red this trip were
  • A range of smelly taxi drivers: you name the exudates and I seemed to get into a taxi honking of it – totally disgusting
  • A range of taxi drivers who needed anger management therapy. I even had to shout at one to inform him of my displeasure as he steered me through a number of near death experiences
  • The RUDEST and LAVIEST congress centre-employed staff EVER...

...They just did not want to be there. A piece of chewing gum on the sole of their shoes would have been more welcome in their lives. The exception was a lovely lady called Alyson who worked with my team on site who was ace but we hired here from a separate agency. An example of the staffing drudge happened for about the 50th time this week as I approached an information desk this morning. Lumpylo (I think that is what her name badge said) behind the desk had her back to me as I approached to ask her for some ‘information’. She was woofing her way through a croissant (or three), turned her head towards me (I still had the full view of her gargantuan butt) and talked to me firing crumbs out of her mouth while still skilfully maintaining a sneer from the corner of her mouth. She was totally unhelpful, did that shrug of the shoulders that so perfectly communicates: ‘I don’t give a bugger about you and I would in fact be delighted if you would move out of my sight, die and never darken my door ever again’. Aaarrrggghhhhhh

Another annoying, yet amusing, congress employed staff moment was with the audiovisual technician who fell asleep in full view of the audience of the meeting I was helping organise (he was literally slumped over the av equipment). Initially I panicked as I though he was dead but a sharp prod to the ribcage seemed to revive him!!!

Anyway must stop the grumbling now, Brussels was good in many ways. the congress was fun, clients were super, activities all went well, plus I am now back in Blighty having emerged from the Channel Tunnel and am on my way home to decorate the kitchen – oh bugger, maybe Brussels isn’t that bad and ugly after all…

Wednesday 18 March 2009

No-one puts baby in the corner

I mentioned in a recent post that Tiggy and Sophie are returned; back from the cattery after the completion of the building work. It is great to have them back home – they are so entertaining and adorable. Nothing beats the sound of a happy purring cat to lift my spirits and make me feel content about life.

What is so lovely about them is their predictability, interspersed with acts of randomness, that really delights. Following the predictability path Sophie and Tiggy reacted to coming back home in exactly the same way that they have done previously following their mini breaks at the full board luxury lodgings provided care of the Animal Medical Centre of Cricklewood.

Tiggy, aka Fat Mama, falls straight back into family life – trying to hunt out the junk food she loves and chilling on the sofa. Sophie, aka Pensive Daughter, was, well her usual pensive self. She has been hiding a lot under the bed or behind the sofa and then dashes out for attention and then runs off again. She also barely ate a thing for two days – just to make us worry and get some pay back for sending her away for nearly three weeks. She is such a funny thing – she loves attention, especially diving in and shoving Tigs out of the way (which often results in Sophie getting a whack on the head from her mother).

Despite being so bold Sophie will sometime have a freak out and end up deciding that she needs to hide again. No-one puts baby in the corner – she puts herself there.

Sunday 15 March 2009

Moral panic on plastic

Just had my internal eco-warrier 'tut tutting' about the fact that my 'tortoise that cared too much' post mentioned that I brought my shopping home in plastic bags.

Now first of all I did use the evil plastic bag because I ended up buying more than I expected - five rolls of kitchen roll (recycled!) takes up lots of space (and I walked so I couldn't just chuck it in the boot of the car!). I did also use my Envirosax bag - which I love - but I only have one and normally this meets my plastic bag replacement needs (Chad does the main food shop and he ALWAYS uses his bags for life).

I actually bought Chad an Envirosax bag for Valentine's Day from a cool gift shop in Crouch End - so we actually have matching bags!!! I know passion is alive and well in my relationship.

Anyway I did use the bad plastic ones that live forever and strangle the tortoise's aquatic cousins, turtles, in the Pacific Ocean, and there will probably be a time when I will use the naughty plastic bags again. Anyway, I am sure that Envirosax will save the day and pacify my inner-ecowarrier as I use it more and more.

The tortoise that cared too much

Now the building work is almost complete (just one more day to go) we brought Tiggy and Sophie, our beloved moggies, home from the cattery on Saturday. We had to do a monster clean to get rid of all the post-building work grime (so that the babies didn’t end up coated in dust). So on Friday night after work the marigolds went on and we cleaned for six solid hours. We had to clean EVERYTHING that we own. It was hideous.

Prior to the cleaning commencing I had to nip to Somerfield (the not so super, supermarket that is walking distance from the house) to buy said marigolds, kitchen roll and other cleaning necessities. It was a real toss-up between going to the ‘Field’ or jumping in the car and going to Sainsburys. The reason for the conundrum being that I absolutely loath the Somerfield experience. In theory it shouldn’t be that bad – it has a good selection of stock (they even have Yarden’s humus which is my number one favourite snack item), it’s quite spacious, it’s clean but there is just something so depressing about it. Friday’s experience just reaffirmed why I should have jumped in the car.

I walk to Somerfield, pick up a basket and start gathering up my supplies. I then proceed to the check-out which they need to rename ‘get frustrated on your way out’. I was in a queue of about 15 people, shuffling at snail speed through the sweet-racked maze created to control us. There were two people on the tills and I notice for every one person that this chap served, the women on the till next door managed to serve at least two and a half people. Now having worked on a till in M&S in my youth, I can be a bit uptight in the till queuing scenario (I was a speed demon on the till). So I start obsessing about why the differential in speed between the two cashiers – I had plenty of time to do this as it took me 20 minutes to get to the starting line. I couldn’t work out what was going on but found out as I approached the tortoise (not the hare) with morbid trepidation.

Now I know that I like good customer service but Mr Tortoise took this to a whole new level...

He picked the first item out of my basket, looked at it for about two seconds, then looked me in the eye, smiled then said ‘do you want this?’, I said ‘yes please’, he then turned the item around to find the barcode, looked at me, smiled, scanned the code, then placed the item in the bag. This happened for EVERY single item in my basket. It was unbelievable. I managed to stay cool, although my response to the question ‘do you want this?’ declined from the aforementioned ‘yes please’, to ‘yes’ to ‘a nod’ deteriorating to me just grimacing at him.

I nearly ran out of the building with my shopping yelling ‘free, free at last, thank god I’m free’, although in reality I walked home with plastic bags digging into my hands and grumbled away to myself. Bless the tortoise – he cared a lot, just too blinkin’ much.

Saturday 7 March 2009

New toilet heaven, B&Q hell

Pleased to report that Chad and I (plus Dave and Des the builders) managed to find a new loo that will fit - phew.

It did require us to go to B&Q as it opened at 8am, never a good place to be before you have had a cuppa. Team B&Q were their normal helpful selves! Classic this morning went like this...

Crump: 'Good morning, I wonder if you can help me'

B&Q staff member: 'Ugh' - not sure how to write the sound that a cave woman makes in the movies as she gesticulates at the fire and the lump of diplodocus flesh sizzling on it.

Crump: ‘Is the white glaze on the 'Madrid' toilet which is displayed downstairs going to match the glaze on this sink (pointing to the 'Valencia') which we already have?’

B&Q staff member who turns out to be the bathroom ‘expert’: ‘They are both white, so yes’

Crump: ‘Yes I can see that, but whites can be different. So are they going to be the same, or might there be a chance that they are different?’

B&Q: ‘They are white so they are the same’

Crump: ‘ Sorry, I don’t think I am explaining this properly. I can see that they are white, but whites can be different, they could come from a different manufacturer for example. So is there a chance that they could be different and that you would recommend me not to mix and match?’

B&Q: ‘They are white, so they are the same’

Crump: ‘Thanks for your insights’

B&Q: ‘No problem, you can do it if you B&Q it!’

OK she didn’t say the B&Q doing it bit but she may as well have done. This is why Homebase exists - to fill the oh so important void that is customer service and product knowledge in the world of DIY. Homebase might not have as much stock and different options - but the stores are clean, the stock is tidy and when you ask them a question they don't just shrug their shoulders or say 'I don't know' and walk away from you unlike their orange uniformed counterparts.

What I think is funny is that the 'You can do it of you B&Q it' TV adverts feature staff who act like they work in Homebase. I suppose it is good for a company like B&Q to be aspirational though;+)

Anyway, because of the whole white issue we bought a new 'Madrid' loo AND sink and we have to take the now redundant 'Valencia' items (which are currently residing in the lounge) back – wish us luck...

PS. I wonder what other city or region of the world will have the honour of sharing its name with a toilet suite range? B&Q already have the Toronto and the Glouchester. Having been to Valencia, Madrid, Toronto and Glouchester I cannot see the link.

PPS. Any suggestions for city / WC twinning?

Tuesday 3 March 2009

Oh crap

We are ‘doing’ the bathroom at the moment. We are a few days in and when I got home from work last night all the HORRIBLE old suite was all gone. 'Hurrah' I thought, no more shell scallop-edged sink and loo and we promptly went around to stay at Nadia and Gareth’s home to stay the night (as there was no loo etc. at Chateau Cricklewood).

Dave the builder (good chap and really pleased to recommend him if you need a builder) called this morning to say that the new throne that we have purchased and due for installation today won’t fit. Aaaagggghhh!!!

So I come home from work and there it is: the annoying ugly toilet is back in position - gutted. We are meeting up with Dave first thing tomorrow morning to work out a plan of action. I know that I have lived with the shell monstrosity for 18 months but it was gone yesterday and like a bad smell it has returned.

Don't panic - I am sure this dire situation can be resolved.

Thursday 26 February 2009

Bridezilla in waiting?

Chad and I decided to get ‘civilised’ last February when we went away for a long Valentine’s weekend away in Copenhagen. So after of year of not doing much about it we have decided to seize the moment and 29 August this year is the day. We have a venue, a great place in Hampstead, and we have got the ball rolling on all the other bits. I am now really excited about it.

I have been to so many weddings in my life, I reckon approaching at least one hundred. Being the son of a vicar (and having once dated a hairdresser) I have been invited to many. I have also been a sounding board for many a future bride or groom over the years. So now it is quite weird making decisions (and having to think about paying) for our own.

Hopefully neither of us will turn into Bridezilla – the scaly green monster with no perspective that terrorises those around them in pursuit of the day perfect. Watch this space...

Wednesday 25 February 2009

Multi-tasking hell

Just had a total XY moment while popping out to get my lunch.

I was mid purchase at the till in Prêt when a friend called. Instead of saying “can I call you back in two minutes” I carried on talking.

While still talking on the mobile I proceed to a newsagent to buy a magazine. I then get my hand stuck in the bag with my sandwich in, drop my wallet and swipe my glasses off my face which arc across the shop and have a cushioned landing in a box of Walkers crisps.

I then tell my friend that I need to hang up and I will call her back as I skulk out of the shop with three customers and the shopkeeper all smirking at me.

I am living proof that men, while apparently doing multiple things at once are in fact kidding themselves. Dangerous thing my lunch run!

Tuesday 24 February 2009

Babies in the crèche...

Chad and I had to drop Tiggy and Sophie off at the cattery today. We have building work starting tomorrow for three weeks and they will freak out with all the noise and general stress. We have also been informed that this is a good decision because all the dust might cause them health problems with their eyes and lungs.

It is really bonkers how guilty we both feel - like sending kids off to boarding school I imagine. You know it is going to do them good but neither the kids nor the parents really like the idea of it - well not these kids or parents anyway! As I am sitting here typing I really miss the fact that one of them is not trying to walk over the keyboard. I didn't awake to four eyes staring intently at me waiting for breakfast which weirdly I miss.

They are in a 'penthouse' for three weeks, will get their nails done and will be looked after by very attentive staff - sounds like a good holiday to me. I have convinced myself that it OK. A bit too much anthropomorphic projection I hear you cry. Yes probably true but these cute little moggies are like our babies (friends refer to them as our gaybies) - which unless you are a cat lover you probably won't understand.

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