Summer's Over

I have less than 30 seconds to write this. I am quite annoyed.

I don't know why I'm even here sometimes.

Sunny Monday

Woke up this morning with the radiant glow of sunshine permeating through my curtains. Spent an hour reading my latest Jeffery Archer acquisition until I felt too hungry to go and strolled down the corridor to do the toothbrushing business and make some breakfast. No cereal and milk this time – soup noodles with mince beef, veggies and egg! Lovely and warm even if it was a bit too dilute. Didn’t really care, I was too hungry.

Telly time in the living room so while scarfing away at my home-made bowl of flavoured water and noodles, I watched Criminal Intent and Privileged. Currently in the process of watching SVU which I think is far more interesting that the previous two, although am a bit saddened to discover that there is only one season of Privileged. I quite like the character development but I can see how it can get quite annoying.

Rafie came and bought my home phone which I bought from the antiques shop. I got a nicer one on ebay for about the same price and anyway, I can’t return the one off ebay can I...

Thinking of what else I have to do for the rest of the day: watch the remaining recorded episodes of whatever is on the Sky+ box, return pan scourers to Tesco Express and… I’m out of ideas.

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Call the Boy – but he’s busy/I’ve got nothing interesting to say.

Don’t call the Boy – but I miss his voice.

There’s a catch 22 if I ever saw one. Damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.

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Ah yes, buy new batteries for my wireless mouse. Tho I may have some spare, I can’t find them…

Certain Things

Il ya certaines choses que je ne le comprendrai jamais.

Saying things in French gives it a certain mystique to that the English language cannot afford to it. With French, every phrase is said with emotion, with a gesture, with a deeper meaning and story behind it. It makes you wonder why.

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It’s funny how people can get so attached to things that to others are of no consequence. A smelly old doll could be someone’s precious childhood keepsake. A threadbare stretched out t-shirt is a memoir of a long forgotten past when times were simpler and perhaps happier. We assign our emotions and memories to these objects to materialise the events, traumatic or delightful, in a separate body to distance ourselves from the past; to stop us dwelling on it.

In essence, no-one is a walking video recorder of memories, ready to recall every last detail at a flick of a switch. It can’t and won’t be done. Sometimes you may think that you don’t horde, you don’t have to keep things to remember but it can’t be escaped. The mere action and emotion is iterated in the English language: “sentimental”, to attach memories of the past to objects of no consequence to the event. There is no logic. A sentimental old fool is not an oxymoron but a description of what it is versus the harsh logic of reality. It cannot answer the question why with words but rather with deep emotion and longing glance into the past.

What if you become sentimental about a living being? Merging the past and the present where past emotions and present physicality battle to take precedence in the beholders eyes. Is there a right and wrong victor? A battered wife weeps at the better past, an unfaithful lover prays for blindness. How can you choose?

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If you’re stranded on a snow-covered mountain top should you scream for help? Avalanche or ambulance?

Summer’s here!

But so far no parties. I went for Hui Teng’s (Hui Ann’s sister) birthday dinner courtesy of an invitation from Dominic. Went to Cosmo in Cardiff Bay, a Chinese, Asian, Oriental Buffet thing which turned out just as I thought it might – huge variety of food but a little pricy at 12 pounds a head. Saved a bit on transport cos a couple of the group had cars so we all drove down. Xiu Mei got a little food drunk and we were singing away walking back from Cosmo to the car. Funny times.

Anyway, there’s not much left for me to busy myself with these days. There’s the occasional trip down to Keylet to remind them that the flat is not going to fix itself. There are the odd trips to Tesco and grocery stores that ensure that I don’t starve from laziness. Other than that, now that I’ve got internet (yay! Since the 7th Aug) the vast quantities of rubbish on the web can entertain me to the point where I don’t know what else is going on outside and don’t really care to find out.

I have to force myself to stick to the rule that I instilled way back in Swansea: Must go outside at least once a day. Doesn’t matter where to or what I’m doing, there’s no substitute for fresh air. And once I’m outside, I find that I might as well walk around. I managed to walk down to Cardiff Bay from the City Centre with Julie last week. First time ever that I’ve led the way and it feels goooooood hehe.

Today however, I went down to the City Centre via Keylet for the above mentioned reason. My flat is 80% fixed up and clean but there are things like broken and non-existent blinds and missing desk chairs that I want sorted out. Walked down Salisbury Road past The Boy’s favourite hairdresser; contemplated whether I should take a picture of his “fave” hair style and send it to him but thought better of it. He can cut his hair where and when he wants however he wants.

Headed down to HSBC first to ask about the parents opening a UK joint bank account. I don’t know why but I’ve got the time, why not. I’ve got no complaints about HSBC, their customer service is very good and staff are very friendly BUT, it takes FOREVER to actually speak to someone who knows anything. Good thing I had time to kill and my new phone cum mp3 player with me or blood would have been shed (More on the new phone later).

With HSBC questions asked and answered, I hopped next door to Scope which has a special place in my heart. It’s a charity shop which benefits those with cerebral palsy. Chern and I discovered it together and it’s always got some long lost treasured gems at the back. I was feeling lovely and warm (cos of the sun) so I bought a book for my dad as a bday present and a top from River Island for £3.50.

With book and top in hand I decided to head over to the Cardiff International Arena to check out the ticket prices for Russell Howard who is going to perform in Cardiff on the 12th December. I’ve seen him on Mock the Week and Live at the Apollo and I love him to bits! He’s adorable, cute, funny and well fit! Haha! He’s seriously funny tho, he’s got the very British self-depreciating humour combined with a mildly cross-eyed puppy dog look that just draws you in. Ariff Azlan might be joining be to watch it so Yay for company!

On my way out of the box office (no tickets, I didn’t have enough cash, and besides there’s no rush) I saw above the construction boards that bordered the demolition of the NCP Carpark that used to face the Cineworld/Gala Casino/Venue Club building and I stopped to watch. What I saw was really amazing. Not to say that it was anything glamorous but the three massive deconstruction machines were mesmerising to look at. In the middle of the bordered area was a large pile of grey rubble – lots of dust so I’m guessing it was crushed concrete – and with any concrete structure, it was reinforced with steel rebars. As with everything in the UK, they try and recycle as much of it as possible, not only because it’s good to save resources but also because it’ll save them money in the long run. But I’ll get to that part.

There were three huge machines. One ripped apart the original building – floor by floor, pillar by pillar – until it was only big chunks of reinforced concrete. Another machine scooped and pushed the rubble made by the first machine into the centre pile. I have to point out that when the first machine ‘dismantles’ the original building, it does so in big hulking chunks, many of the chunks still have whole steel rebars in them, and you can’t recycle reinforced chunks. The third machine was the one I really admire the most. It had a beak-like mechanism in the front which it used to pick up big chunks of concrete and crush in-between its jaws, freeing the steel rebar. It would then manoeuvre the steel rebars into a pile and pick it up and drop it into a separate pile for the rebars. What really fascinated me about the last machine was the delicacy in which the driver manipulated the machine to separate and pick up the steel rebars and sheet metal from the rubble. Imagine a small dog nosing thru its food for its favourite bit and picking it up in its teeth and you’ll have some semblance of what the mechanical creature was like. It “nosed” the metal into position, it shook side to side to loosen the metal from its jaws, it even dropped and re-grabbed small piles of metal if it “felt” it didn’t have a good enough grip.

If anything, watching the deconstruction site has given me a new appreciation into demolition. Anyone can tear down a building, but to do it with style is a whole new art form.

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New Phone!

Nokia 6600 Slide! I like it! It’s black! It’s got 3G!

And I want to get an Invisible Shield for it.

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Oh yes, Last post was so optimistic. What I didn’t count on was the flat being left like a tip by the previous tenants. I returned to Swansea the same day and spent a couple of day fuming about the injustice etc etc. The flat is nice and clean and liveable now and I don’t want to relive the horror and disgust that I first experienced when I stepped in. Thank god for Aziah and her Mum and the wonders of disinfectant.

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Julie bought me a little sunflower in a pot which I have named Maximillian (Max for short). He's not doing too well at the moment but when he's feeling better and looking perkier I'll take some pictures to share.