I've rediscovered...

Mad About You, Ellen and Scrubs in a big way. I used to watch these programmes, well Ellen and Mad About You, when I was younger but now they are being shown on TV in the UK and I'm revisiting the classics. Scrubs, whilst much newer is excellent too. And Seinfeld. Seinfeld is amazing. Elaine, George and Kramer. There's a bit of each of them, in each of us. Scary shit. But true.


My weekend was fraught. On Saturday, I went to B&Q to buy paint and painting apparatus (aparatii?) so I could paint my bedroom. I was chatted up by a lovely, yet slightly bovine Turkish woman. She insisted I give her my email address. So I did. I hope that wasn't a big mistake. The thing is, I LOVE Turkish food and was secretly hoping she'd introduce me to some good restaurants. Well, not so secretly, I did ask her to recommend some Turkish restaurants. Apparently, there are none in Oxford. The best ones are in London apparently.
What's disturbing is how flirtatious she was being. She was manning the 'Refunds' counter and was generally quite unhelpful. I was waiting in the queue to return a lightbulb my housemate had purchased about 3 months ago which was broken. I didn't have the receipt. I didn't have a hope in hell. I shuffled up to the counter and said "please may I exchange this broken lightbulb for one that isn't broken?" "You have receipt?", she barked. I involuntarily took a step back. "Erm...no, I'm afraid I haven't." "You go find another one, I exchange." I scurried away thinking she probably thinks I'm really cheap for wanting to exchange a faulty lightbulb. Having not purchased said lightbulb, I was annoyed with my housemate for being asked to do his dirty work. Anyway, I finally found the lightbulb aisle and found a matching bulb. It was £9.80. £9.80?! For a fucking lightbulb? At that price, the fucking thing had better outlive me and my children (ha, ha...like I'm ever going to have those smelly, noisy fuckers). Anyway, I went back to the desk, she said "very expensive. Why so expensive?". I muttered something indecipherable, said "thank you" and hurried away to continue with my shopping. Short story long, I had to go back to her counter so she could page some monkey to mix the colour paint I wanted (pale blue) and in the process, she visibly softened, sent all the other customers away by saying "no refunds or returns today" and proceeded to flutter her eye-lashes and thrust her ample bosom in my face. Lord knows what she thought I was thinking but it wasn't what she was hoping.

Wrong forest, wrong tree.

I barely managed to escape with my dignity intact.

That evening, I headed to London to meet up with Tristan and Sophie. Tris and Soph. Who I don't see nearly as often as I should. I blame them entirely. Tristan and I used to share a house when we were at Cambridge along with the lovely Mary and the less lovely Matt. Anyway, met up with Tris and Sophie for a jug of Sangria (they were raving about it. It tasted of weak piss to me) in some 'bar' in Neal's Yard. We chatted and caught up on stuff.

Tristan and I then went off to Soho for dinner. We decided to by-pass the lovely, welcoming, extensive menu, clean, reasonably priced type of places and instead, went to some Italian place which could have doubled as a crack-house. It was, erm, interesting.

Currently listening to: Strange Currencies by R.E.M. (another great band I'm rediscovering).

Sunday, it rained all day. 'Nuff said.

Currently wearing: blue Cons, strange, yet wonderful cords, stripy shirt, knitted vest/tank, black tie, white studded belt. I look interesting according to Evil bosslady.

Currently eating: sunflower seeds by the handful. They're good for you, apparently.