A maths lesson

1 smackhead decorator willing to work for peanuts found on Gumtree+ 1 crowbar + some cronies = Us - (1 brand new flat screen telly + 1 new laptop + 1 fancy watch) + big bill for door repair





While it seems

(Us - 5 hours waiting around) + 2 doughnut-eating cops + 1 indifferent fingerprinting dude ≠ our stuff recovered
thankfully

Good insurance company (can you believe that?) = new shit for us

Does no one else see it?

I know this is slightly TMZish, but I have said this for a very long time and Boy does not believe me. So I put it before you - don't they look, like, crazy-the-same?

A young Alfonso Ribero (AKA, Carlton from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and yes, this is the cover to his album!)


Manchester United footballer Nani

PS - Ha ha to Manchester United for losing to Liverpool! They were sitting ducks, for God's sake! You could have be the death knell to Benitez. Suckers!

Here I am, desperately cheery

Because I am a narcissist, I have re-read a tonne of my old blog entries and I am much, much cheerier. I am also very sad for my last, eversoslightly emotional blog entry. Considering my last entry was nearly a year and a half ago, that's not very nice, innit. So I've decided to play nice with your emotions. Or take them on some manic rollercoaster ride. She's low! She's high! What the fuck?

Anyway, cheery story... cheery story... have to give a cheery story... what do I say?... okay, here's one:

Last weekend, P had her birthday celebration on Sunday. She had it on Sunday cos I had mine on Saturday. I probably shouldn't have, but she was a sport about it all. She told me to show up at 2000. So that meant I was trying for 2030, but really probably getting there at 2100 or even 2115. She texts at 2035, where are you? I show up sharpish.

I didn't think you were going to be so late, she said. You're usually on time. I don't know what universe P rolls in, but I am never on time.

Uh, honey, you never heard of CP time? What? Oh, Latin time, says she (she's from Chile). I think we should agree to call it Brown People Time from now on.

I haven't been round this many Latinos since living in Durham. I didn't know enough Latinos, so I have no experience to draw upon, only stereotypes. But mama, why you gotta succumb to stereotypes? P and pals were telling me an amusing story about having 7 people in a car. You know that's how dumb white (American) Southerners think Mexicans roll, right? I am becoming alarmed by this chat.

We are going to the club in a taxi, right? Cos Autumn's booty needs space baby. I ask. Of course is the reply.

Liars! P's homeboy rolls up in his SUV, puts the back seat down at 7 of us cram in like sardines. What if we get stopped? I asked, nervously. It's cool cos Homeboy has blacked out windows (and the stereotypes keep coming).

We're at the club and I have to be pulled/rolled out of the back, though in the most dignified way possible (Latin men are very gentlemanly). And into the club. Oh, I forgot to mention: P is gorgeous. Lovely to look at, effervescent personality, skinny as hell, ridiculously tall (especially since she is wearing a pair of heels that frighten me) and can roll her hips in ways that make Shakira jealous. That night, I was playing the part of dumpy friend in clumpy heels. We all have our roles.

However, the music is R&B, hip-hop and rap. I am in my heaven. They even play How do you want it?, which is like, crazy stupid, cos I'm like the only person in the whole world that loves that song. And when the clock chimes 0300, and the lights come up, I make my way home happy. Mostly cos I know that unlike P and pals, I don't have work or any responsibilities in the morning.

See? Cheery, cheery me. Okay, not as cohesive as my past shit, but I'll get the mojo back. Just stick with me kids.

I gotta feeling...

My volleyball team seems to have a team song: the Black Eyed Peas' "I gotta feeling". I'm such like a grandma, every time that song comes on I turn to one of them and say, "Now who sings this?" I kinda hate the song, but I like the feeling it does evoke in us: pure joy, as it was played after we won a particularly intense game.

As I was walking the dogs, the old MP3 fired off 'Return to innocence" by Enigma and Enya. OK, no judgements about my musical taste - you should all know by know by now it's pretty shite. However, it reminds me so much of Okinawa and when I was in high school. The reminiscing was so overwhelming, I wanted to cry in the street. I think it was coupled with the knowledge that I would be going back to Okinawa for my first time in 16 years. I will make no qualms about it - I was a total gaijin when I lived there, but it was my home, innit. I lived there for almost 10 years. And you put your head round that: never going back home for 16 years. That's half a lifetime ago.

Boy thinks it's weird that I'm this emotional and I've only had one Japanese lesson and we don't go until April. True dat, but my multitudes want me to feel, so I listen. I feel a great sense of trepidation. This is where I'm from and yet, what if I don't remember anything? I don't know if I can really articulate it right now as I am literally in the middle of my emotional maelstrom and I'm going down. All I can say is that I gotta feeling...