3 Flatmates (male)
4 Bedrooms
2 Toilets
1 Bath
1 Shower (en-suite) (my room)
2 Microwaves
48 Stairs (46 from front door to bed, 2 branch off to bathroom and toilet)
39 Drawers (in my room alone)
2 Mirrors (in my room*)
52.5 Glass Bricks (stopping my shower from soaking the rest of the room)
2 Cable TV boxes (one in my room)
1 Television (not in my room)
10 Mbit (the alleged speed of my internet connection)
3 am (the time the big heavy freight train went past and woke me up)
6 Pillows (on my bed - you can never have too many pillows)
2 Steps (from my bed to the shower)
7 Plug sockets (all silver and shiny)
n Boxes still unpacked (where n = too many)
6 Hours (until the guy comes to try fixing the shower of chinese water torture for the second time)
*both belong to the room, not me. I do not currently own a proper mirror. For 18 months I mostly did my hair by silhouette on the wall or reflected in one of the pictures hanging in the living room.
Well, I'm moved.
My mountain of crap (note, previous photo contained less than half of said mountain) has been packed and transported from old place (down approx 20 stairs) to new place (up 46 stairs) with profuse and grateful thanks for the help given by Adrian, Helene, Chris, Neil, Charles and Stuart.
I have internet again, and cable tv, which would be even better if I had an actual TV to display it on.
I have a shower in my room that hasn't been installed properly and drips randomly like chinese water torture and a flatmate who reacted in a way that I didn't expect and wasn't prepared for when his bike was stolen.
It's been an incredibly long week. I've found this whole move incredibly difficult and I'm utterly exhausted - physically, mentally, emotionally, and there's still a shitload of unpacking to do, which would be going faster if it weren't for the fact that while I managed to avoid dislocating or otherwise damaging myself on the move day itself thanks to the above help, I then completely forgot that flu has made me all floppy, picked up a too-heavy box and promptly dropped it again when my shoulder came out and my wrist threatened to follow suit. Nothing seriouis, just a bit of soreness and the realisation that I'm going to have to change tactics for unpacking.
So yeah, I'm moved.
I'm starting to regret going for an attic room...
I, a knitter of able hands and quick wits, to hereby swear that over the course of these Olympics I will uphold the highest standard of knitterly excellence (along with nearly 4,000 other knitters worldwide).
I will be deft of hand and sure of pattern, I will overcome troubles of yarn overs and misplaced decreases. I will use the gifts of intelligence and persistence (as well as caffeine and chocolate) and I will execute my art to the highest form, carrying with me the hope for excellence known to every knitter.
I strive to win. To do my best, and to approach the needles with my own best effort in mind, without comparing myself to my fellow knitters, for they have challenges unique to them.
While I engage in this pursuit of excellence and my own personal, individual best, I also swear that I will continue to engage with my nearest and dearest in conversation, care for my pets self, speak kindly with those who would ask me to do something other than knit, not feel annoyed by the timing of the house moving and the having of the influenza and above all, above every stitch thrown or picked, above every cable, every heel stitch, every change of colour, I swear this:
That I will remember that this is not the real Olympics, that I'm supposed to be having fun and that my happiness and self-worth ride not on my success....
but on my trying.
Let the games begin!
Okay, so I've been out of the house exactly four times in just over a week.
Yes, that makes me even more cranky and cabin feverish than you can possibly imagine, and given how well some of you know me, take what you're thinking and extrapolate.
Then do it again.
Aaaand again.
Now you're getting close.
So, in order to alleviate the crushing boredom that has settled over me like a cloud of cheap perfume in Debenhams perfume department, I have designated today as say "Hello" day.
Simple concept. Just leave a comment saying hello. Or Hey. Or Howdy. Or anything you like really.
God I'm bored.
Help me.
Nobody asked for it, I just thought it was cool (and not just cos Random Tom did it first, although I will confess that it was seeing him do it that made me think of doing it).
You can now listen to each of my posts rather than reading them. Theoretically, a link will appear at the end of each post on the home page (why it is currently only appearing on one out of three is a complete mystery to me I'm an idiot. I'm sure this is not news) which will allow you to click on it and listen to the synthetic speech translation of the post (not me reading it out, sorry to disappoint anyone who just suddenly got a little bit excited (that'll be no-one then (I'll stop with the brackets soon, promise (not that I was only doing this to see if I could freak the robovoice out or anything (oh no, not me(actually, it didn't work(damnit))))))).
You can also subscribe to the podcast, should you wish to. Simply feed the url to your podcatcher and apparently it will then automagically download this to your mp3 player. I wouldn't know, since I don't have such a thing (no, not for lack of wanting one, just for lack of cash).
So anyway, have at it.
(and in case the linkydink hasn't appeared on the previous post yet, follow this link to listen to the mp3 file of "Moving On" - which is unintentionally hilarious (although that might just be to me). Almost as funny as listening to Kylie Minogue reciting the lyrics to "I should be so lucky" as if it were serious poetry).
There's a voice,
That keeps on calling me.
Down the road,
Is where I'll always be.
Every stop I make,
I'll make a new friend.
Can't stay for long, just turn around and I'm gone again.
Maybe tomorrow, I'll wanna settle down,
Until tomorrow, I'll just keep moving on
Down this road, that never seems to end,
Where new adventure, lies just around the bend
So if you wanna join me for a while,
Just grab your hat, come travel light,
That's hobo style.
Maybe tomorrow, I'll want to settle down,
Until tomorrow, the whole world is my home
In ten days time I'll have lived here for 18 months.
I'll also be beginning the process of moving to a new place.
In all the places I've lived in London, this has felt most like home, but London is London and my home is not my own so the time has come to close this particular chapter of my life and start the next.
I'm going from a wonky house to a wonky house, and from one (female) flatmate to three (male - the landlady's wee brother, a teacher and a tube geek).
I'm going from a reasonable sized double room with my desk in a spare room and a separate bathroom with shower to a HUGE double attic room with sloping ceilings and more than enough space for a desk (and a knitting alcove) and an en-suite shower and my own personal staircase (and a separate bathroom with shower and toilet and additional toilet).
Who knows, I might even be able to hang up my hammock chair again.
So while on one hand I'm looking forward to being there and being settled in and unpacked, I'm not looking forward to the actual packing and moving (or the being skint for the next two months - any and all tips on how to eat incredibly cheaply without starving or bin-raking gratefully received).
Now, where did I put that bubblewrap and those boxes...
Bleurgh.
I've got way too much to do to be ill.
*sniff*
... the online home and (not very) alter(ed)-ego of Ann McMeekin, a recently freelance Web Accessibility Consultant.
... passionate about many things, most of which will turn up on this site at some time or other.
... contactable via email.
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