Hola Grandma

Yesterday I went into a store of one of my favorite boutiques. First, because I love their clothes, and second because the prices here in Barcelona looked a little cheaper than in the same boutique at home.

Straight off I saw a beautiful blue dress, a class act and perfect for both visiting customers and going to the theater. I have one a little like it at home, also from this boutique. So I was pretty certain it would fit and suit me perfectly.

I stood in a line at the entrance to the changing-room with a bunch of teens and twens. It was only then that I realized I might look a little out of place here. The radio was blaring out some state-of-the-art Spanish hit and the changing-room was being managed by two guys! I mean, they were right inside the girls' changing-room. At first I thought they were someone's boyfriends who had wandered in by mistake, but I realized how wrong I was when one of them charmingly showed me to a free booth with a disarming smile and some Spanish that I didn't get, but in my imagination was something like, Hola Grandma! Good to see you made it here!

One Flew Over

Last night I flew to Barcelona. I had some tranquilizers with me (my fear of flying is übercrazy) but had no need of them as a young man by the name of Julian came to my aid. Julian, a tattoo artist with tattoos from neck to foot, was sitting next to me. He held my hand all through take-off, and talked to me the entire flight. He was successful in banishing my irrational fears only in that he prevented me from bursting into the usual tears and becoming hysterical.

My fear of flying is surpassed only by... nothing! Having flown all over the world several times, I have now developed such terror of flying that I swore 4 years ago, when I last stepped out of a plane, that I will never subject myself to such idiocy again. This business trip is partially to prove to myself that I can fly, I must fly and I will fly.

Aunty Bailout

If you've been wondering how Germany plans to bail out all those other Eurozone countries that have not been looking after their piggy-banks as well as we have, look no further. This Cupcake and others like me will be playing a major role! Yes, we are the bailout aunties and uncles of the Euro family where a couple of the cousins and nephews went out and spent their pocket-money all in one go and forgot to save a bit for Christmas, birthdays and the like.

Having made what seems now to have been a disastrous decision to become self-employed 11 years ago, I am available 24/7 for work and do in fact spend a great deal of those 168 hours working. My most recent record was last weekend when I spent 22 hours working. I did exceed that when I was younger and my children were very little and used to go to their father every second weekend. On those weekends, I used to work 24 hours.

The Energy Cookie

Every morning, I consume a vitamin supplement drink that tastes and looks like fizzy orange juice together with two capsules packed full of vitamins, minerals, cod liver oil and the like.

I follow this up with a chocolate cookie and a cup of tea.

I know what you're thinking. Why bother with the vitamin drink and the capsules?

And you're right! I just wish they would find a way to fill chocolate cookies with all those vitamins and minerals and invent tea with all the goodness of that fizzy orange juice. First, it would save me time (I am just too lazy) and second, I could eat more chocolate cookies.

The Enemy Request

Have thought of a great new feature for Facebook – the Enemy Request, which as the name suggests, is kind of the opposite of the Friend Request. I’ve even thought up a verb for it – instead of “friending” someone, you could “enemize” them. Like the Friend Request, the other person has to accept the Enemy Request for it to work.

The Enemy Request could be used for various different categories of relationship and have different purposes, for example:

a)      You could enemize someone with whom you have a kind of Cold War relationship, and with whom you would like to become a little warmer. Through the enemyship (that’s enemyship, not an enemy ship like in Star Trek) you could go through a series of procedures that would enable you to iron out your differences and bring you a little closer to friendship.

b)      You could enemize someone you’re currently having a heated row with, or maybe someone you’ve broken off a relationship with. You want to get back on good terms with them eventually, but… only after you’ve both let out all your anger at each other. This would be a good alternative to “defriending” completely and blocking them from contacting you on Facebook.

c)       Or you could enemize someone you just can’t stand, have no interest in getting back together with and want them and the rest of the Facebook world to know about it. You could hurl virtual sticks or smoke bombs at them or poke your virtual tongue out at them from time to time. Well why not. 

The Doll's House

My Dad was a furniture designer inside an accountant’s body. Particularly, he was very concerned with the future of furniture. “In the future”, he used to tell me, “There will be sliding doors and neon lights everywhere”. This was the 1960s. He did have a point.

He worked as one of the chief accountants for a very renowned old establishment company with headquarters in Piccadilly in London. He had his own large office and secretary. I know, because when I was little I used to pretend to be sick once a month so that he would take me to work. I think we both knew I wasn’t sick. I used to sit in the secretarial pool and write poetry on a typewriter. And in the lunch hour we used to buy sandwiches and eat them in Hyde Park.