I think I must've been living in a hole in the ground over the past year.
I have just discovered the Wedge Card, a cool card that gives you discounts for local, independent shops around London. The Wedge Card costs a mere tenner (with £5 of that going to a worthy charity - local, of course). and it was launched in December 2006. The people behind the card say: "Wedge is the little man. The local independent shopkeeper and all the locals who love the fact that their High Street hasn't fallen prey to the large multinational large chain, turning it well into well, a faceless, desensitized "brand only" environment."
Even though little men don't really do it for me, personally (sorry, bad joke, couldn't help it - low on blood sugar), I'm really turned on by the Wedge Card right now. I've gone and signed up for one, and I wish more Londoners knew about it.
A quick flick through the discounts on offer turned up:
The Design Museum
Nina and Lola (hip online fashion store)
Crockatt and Powell (yay for my fave independent bookshop)
And there are lots more. So if you're a Londoner, please sign up for a Wedge Card now, here . You won't regret it, especially once you've made a couple of small purchases, because it will pay for itself. (You'll probably also feel quite smug and pleased with yourself for supporting local shops too.) It's just a pity that I won't be around in London much longer to use it.
So that defines my new mission: to shop more at independent shops this year. I already do try to shop locally, but sometimes I get lazy. Now I have a new excuse to avoid the Tescos and the Asdas and the Selfridges of this world. It's my new mission, dammit. Make it yours too.
Wednesday, 30 January 2008
Thursday, 10 January 2008
Mission 022 - Money, happiness and con-men
The Buckwell and I have just sold our flat. We made a reasonable sum of money on it. This got me thinking about whether money really can buy happiness. Certainly for me, the moment I saw the bank account balloon was a source of great excitement. But that excitement fizzled out about as quickly as a cheap Catherine Wheel.
The letter from the property lawyers turned up, giving the breakdown of the whole transaction. So in my practical, skeptical way I went through it, item by item. And one item I didn't like the look of. For some reason, we have been charged rent payable of £230.49. Quoi? We've had a lot of trouble with our solicitors; they've been generally hopeless. But I will refrain from mentioning the name of the firm thus far, until the Buckwell chases the discrepancy up tomorrow.
In the meantime, I have been stewing over it in my head, mentally scripting the complaint letter and scheming to garner as much negative publicity for them as I can. After all, nobody rips me off and gets away with it. Well, that is unless you are a papyrus seller in Cairo, a camel driver hawking rides around the Pyramids, a carpet seller in Aleppo, a spice seller in Marrakech, a jewellery merchant in Sousse, or a furniture transport company in Denmark. (But I'll get them back too, eventually.)
My, I do sound like a vengeful sort.
Money doesn't buy happiness, but losing it can mean unhappiness. Particularly when you lose it through property lawyers with no concept of customer service. Hmmm, perhaps service is the real issue here? After all, with the benefit of distance, I actually have rather fond memories of some of the other cons.
But I have decided that it's time to put a stop to it. My mission is to not fall for any more cons in 2008.
Have a happy new year.
The letter from the property lawyers turned up, giving the breakdown of the whole transaction. So in my practical, skeptical way I went through it, item by item. And one item I didn't like the look of. For some reason, we have been charged rent payable of £230.49. Quoi? We've had a lot of trouble with our solicitors; they've been generally hopeless. But I will refrain from mentioning the name of the firm thus far, until the Buckwell chases the discrepancy up tomorrow.
In the meantime, I have been stewing over it in my head, mentally scripting the complaint letter and scheming to garner as much negative publicity for them as I can. After all, nobody rips me off and gets away with it. Well, that is unless you are a papyrus seller in Cairo, a camel driver hawking rides around the Pyramids, a carpet seller in Aleppo, a spice seller in Marrakech, a jewellery merchant in Sousse, or a furniture transport company in Denmark. (But I'll get them back too, eventually.)
My, I do sound like a vengeful sort.
Money doesn't buy happiness, but losing it can mean unhappiness. Particularly when you lose it through property lawyers with no concept of customer service. Hmmm, perhaps service is the real issue here? After all, with the benefit of distance, I actually have rather fond memories of some of the other cons.
But I have decided that it's time to put a stop to it. My mission is to not fall for any more cons in 2008.
Have a happy new year.
Mission Update - Starting the year on a low note
Well here I stand before you, just over a week into 2008, with hanging head and shamefaced expression. I have failed two missions.
I had been going strong, staunchly resisting the chips from the canteen downstairs at work, but yesterday something inside me broke. I ordered some and ate them. They were actually pretty good. But I didn't feel so well afterwards. So there, my first confession is out. Now for number two.
I got also Jerome's flu - my excessive garlic and chilli concoction came to naught. The morning we got up to depart for Japan, I was tired and listless. My nose was hot, my throat felt like a piece of sisal was hitching a ride in it, and my eyes were watery. Halfway to the airport, the sneezes were coming thick and fast, along with lots of mucus. "I feel hot," I said to the Buckwell. "Feel my forehead."
He did. "No fever," he replied.
So I popped a couple of cold and flu tablets and tried to ride it out.
The flu tablets must've worked a bit, because British Airways upgraded us to Club class on the way over to Tokyo. However, it was obvious that I was really sick; I declined the Champagne on boarding, and went for an orange juice instead. Then, despite the fully-flat bed, movies on demand, and food on proper china plates, things went rapidly downhill. It all reached a head about 30,000 feet up, somewhere north of Ulan Batur, when I woke up after a short sleep, with a piercing earache, the shivers and a large trail of mucus winding its way from my nose to my mouth. I winced, and said plaintively to the Buckwell, "I think I have a fever".
Dutifully, he reached across and felt my forehead. "Nope."
So I curled myself up in the foetal position (what a waste of a flat bed), and shivered for an hour.
"What about now?"
"Sorry. You still don't have a fever."
"Oh".
Eventually, we got to Tokyo, and I soldiered on for a couple of days until my cold/flu faded away. By about the fifth day, I was back to my normal self. But on our penultimate morning, I woke up with a sore throat and ballooning neck glands. By the evening, I was exhausted and in bed by 9pm. "Damn," I moaned. "I think I'm getting another cold." The Buckwell reached over and felt my forehead. "Oh no," he said. "Now you really do have a fever."
I had been going strong, staunchly resisting the chips from the canteen downstairs at work, but yesterday something inside me broke. I ordered some and ate them. They were actually pretty good. But I didn't feel so well afterwards. So there, my first confession is out. Now for number two.
I got also Jerome's flu - my excessive garlic and chilli concoction came to naught. The morning we got up to depart for Japan, I was tired and listless. My nose was hot, my throat felt like a piece of sisal was hitching a ride in it, and my eyes were watery. Halfway to the airport, the sneezes were coming thick and fast, along with lots of mucus. "I feel hot," I said to the Buckwell. "Feel my forehead."
He did. "No fever," he replied.
So I popped a couple of cold and flu tablets and tried to ride it out.
The flu tablets must've worked a bit, because British Airways upgraded us to Club class on the way over to Tokyo. However, it was obvious that I was really sick; I declined the Champagne on boarding, and went for an orange juice instead. Then, despite the fully-flat bed, movies on demand, and food on proper china plates, things went rapidly downhill. It all reached a head about 30,000 feet up, somewhere north of Ulan Batur, when I woke up after a short sleep, with a piercing earache, the shivers and a large trail of mucus winding its way from my nose to my mouth. I winced, and said plaintively to the Buckwell, "I think I have a fever".
Dutifully, he reached across and felt my forehead. "Nope."
So I curled myself up in the foetal position (what a waste of a flat bed), and shivered for an hour.
"What about now?"
"Sorry. You still don't have a fever."
"Oh".
Eventually, we got to Tokyo, and I soldiered on for a couple of days until my cold/flu faded away. By about the fifth day, I was back to my normal self. But on our penultimate morning, I woke up with a sore throat and ballooning neck glands. By the evening, I was exhausted and in bed by 9pm. "Damn," I moaned. "I think I'm getting another cold." The Buckwell reached over and felt my forehead. "Oh no," he said. "Now you really do have a fever."
Thursday, 20 December 2007
Mission 021 - Cough cough, sniff sniff
Wow. A month's silence. Sorry for being so inexcusably slack. I've actually had more time than usual for blogging, given that the last 2 weeks have been spent on jury service. That means a little bit of sleeping in (love those 10:15am starts), a little bit more exercise (walking to court), cultural lunchtimes (Tate Modern), and plenty of opportunities to read books while waiting to be herded into the court for a cattle, sorry, jury call. The first week I managed three books, the second week was a little less literary owing to actually being in court for most of it.
I found it a welcome change from the tedium of my everyday life. But I feel dreadfully sorry for the people on the jury for the Diana inquest. There's only so much monotony I can take.
So this Christmas, the Buckwell and I have decided to go all out with a bit of culture shock. We're off to Japan.
However, there is a nasty threat looming over the trip. The Buckwell has been suffering a nasty bout of MAN FLU this week, which had him bedridden, feverish and coughing. So my mission is rather obvious - to avoid his flu at all costs. As I am a woman, it should not be too hard. However, just to be on the safe side, I am planning to liberally lace onight's dinner with garlic and chilli....
I found it a welcome change from the tedium of my everyday life. But I feel dreadfully sorry for the people on the jury for the Diana inquest. There's only so much monotony I can take.
So this Christmas, the Buckwell and I have decided to go all out with a bit of culture shock. We're off to Japan.
However, there is a nasty threat looming over the trip. The Buckwell has been suffering a nasty bout of MAN FLU this week, which had him bedridden, feverish and coughing. So my mission is rather obvious - to avoid his flu at all costs. As I am a woman, it should not be too hard. However, just to be on the safe side, I am planning to liberally lace onight's dinner with garlic and chilli....
Tuesday, 20 November 2007
Mission 020 - To bye or not to bye
First up, sorry for the really bad pun. It's somewhat indicative of my desperate state of mind as this week, as I wrestle with my latest mission - to resist the temptation to resign. It could be quite a good idea for you to adopt this mission too, to avoid you joining dole queues and getting far too familiar with daytime telly.
Here are a few reasons why you should resist the urge to resign:
- At your latest dinner party, someone tells you that you're an excellent cook and should open a cafe. Although this may sound like a valid reason, remind yourself that although your duck and couscous was undoubtedly extremely tasty, you can't guarantee that every patron at your cafe will be just as drunk and rambling.
- You have a mortgage/rent that needs to be paid regularly. And you are not talented at busking.
- Your husband likes to spend money on bike parts, and you like to spend money on shoes. And the money has to come from somewhere. Especially for the shoes. (I know it's a cliche, but that's the way it is.)
- The grass is not always greener on the other side. in fact, sometimes it's astroturf.
- The current job is building character. (I just don't know what kind.)
Hmm. I'm not doing a very good job of convincing myself. I'm going to watch some telly.
Here are a few reasons why you should resist the urge to resign:
- At your latest dinner party, someone tells you that you're an excellent cook and should open a cafe. Although this may sound like a valid reason, remind yourself that although your duck and couscous was undoubtedly extremely tasty, you can't guarantee that every patron at your cafe will be just as drunk and rambling.
- You have a mortgage/rent that needs to be paid regularly. And you are not talented at busking.
- Your husband likes to spend money on bike parts, and you like to spend money on shoes. And the money has to come from somewhere. Especially for the shoes. (I know it's a cliche, but that's the way it is.)
- The grass is not always greener on the other side. in fact, sometimes it's astroturf.
- The current job is building character. (I just don't know what kind.)
Hmm. I'm not doing a very good job of convincing myself. I'm going to watch some telly.
Monday, 5 November 2007
Mission 019 - A spot of mending
Buttons. They were bound to come up sooner or later.
Last Monday or Tuesday I had a button come off a jacket. It's still off, and I have been wearing the jacket sans button, regardless. What a lazy slob.
Now, I think there's a fairly good chance that, like me, you've got something tucked away in a drawer that needs a spot of mending to make it wearable again. Maybe you're even wearing it. My jacket is just a hint of a vast mending pile that includes:
Pair of dress shorts with split seam
Dress with ironing mark (awaiting customisation and transformation into new dress)
Trousers that need hemming
Top with unravelled shoulder seam
Half-made cushion (just needs one side of the zip doing)
Trousers with missing button.
No wonder I have nothing to wear.
So my latest mission for me, and you, is this: Make a start on the mending. Even if you just sew on a button. It'll take you all of five minutes (and most of that will be spent finding the needles and thread) and you'll wonder why on earth you've been putting it off.
Last Monday or Tuesday I had a button come off a jacket. It's still off, and I have been wearing the jacket sans button, regardless. What a lazy slob.
Now, I think there's a fairly good chance that, like me, you've got something tucked away in a drawer that needs a spot of mending to make it wearable again. Maybe you're even wearing it. My jacket is just a hint of a vast mending pile that includes:
Pair of dress shorts with split seam
Dress with ironing mark (awaiting customisation and transformation into new dress)
Trousers that need hemming
Top with unravelled shoulder seam
Half-made cushion (just needs one side of the zip doing)
Trousers with missing button.
No wonder I have nothing to wear.
So my latest mission for me, and you, is this: Make a start on the mending. Even if you just sew on a button. It'll take you all of five minutes (and most of that will be spent finding the needles and thread) and you'll wonder why on earth you've been putting it off.
Friday, 2 November 2007
Pet update
As of this evening, the pet mission is back on. Our first set of critters are going home to their owner, as she's now out of hospital. Someone from the cat charity is coming to pick them up tonight.
The funny thing is, that only this morning I had the fleeting thought that i would quite like to see the back of them. If only for the reason that last night one of them missed the litter tray and deposited a large poo and a puddle on the floor of the bathroom instead. Then they shredded the newspaper surrounding the tray to create a poo, piss and paper installation of impressive proportions. It was a really great way to start my morning.
So from tonight, we are once again sans pets. There might be more arriving Sunday. Hopefully they will be better acquainted with their litter box. I'll let you know.
The funny thing is, that only this morning I had the fleeting thought that i would quite like to see the back of them. If only for the reason that last night one of them missed the litter tray and deposited a large poo and a puddle on the floor of the bathroom instead. Then they shredded the newspaper surrounding the tray to create a poo, piss and paper installation of impressive proportions. It was a really great way to start my morning.
So from tonight, we are once again sans pets. There might be more arriving Sunday. Hopefully they will be better acquainted with their litter box. I'll let you know.
Thursday, 1 November 2007
Mission 018 - The only way is up.
As soon as I wrote this title, I was reminded of that grating track by Yazz that sat atop the NZ singles chart for several weeks in 1988. Not a great start. But please hang about a couple more minutes. This post gets better.
My blog is rated by Technorati at 4,446,976= in popularity. (This is out of 110.4 million blogs, so is either quite good, or quite bad, depending on how you look at it.) But this is not good enough for me. So my new mission is to bump my rank up. I don't expect to reach the 100 top blogs, or even the top 100,000. The top 1,000,0000 will do, for now.
Then of course, there's the Google ranking. And although you can find me if you type in Susanonamission with no spaces, you won't find me on Google any other way. (Google Susan Wills and you'll get an American pro-life activist, a ceramic artist, a lawyer and a winery owner.) There are, unfortunately, many people with my name out there. All American, I think. So I've been doing lots of research about how I can improve the ranking of my blog. Problogger is an especially good source, although ironically, in a recent post, he says 'Forget about page rank and concentrate on good content'.
So first, please help me by going to Technorati, here , where you can create an account. Then search for my page Susanonamssion and choose it as one of your favourites. Thank you. Another thing you can do is link to my page if you have a blog and would like to recommend my blog to others. Either of these things would be great.
And here's what I've decided to do about the blog content.
Given that my blog is quite self-absorbed, I've decided to open my missions up to everyone. Now you can share in my achievements, surpass me, or fall behind as you choose. Of course, some missions will be more achievable for you then others. Mission 015, Chips, for example, will be quite easy for you, as you don't work near the cafe downstairs (unless you are one of my colleagues reading this). Feel free to take on this mission as your own. Just in case you need a reminder, here it is again: ' Increase the ranking of Susan's blog'.
Again on the content note, for more waffly posts that don't fit here so well, I have also started a new blog, Four Zebras in the Road. This one is more for me to waffle at will about all sorts of things that don't fit into my/our missions and is still being refined a bit, although I have high hopes for it. The main pic is one I took in Namibia in September. I think it's rather attractive. Do you?
My blog is rated by Technorati at 4,446,976= in popularity. (This is out of 110.4 million blogs, so is either quite good, or quite bad, depending on how you look at it.) But this is not good enough for me. So my new mission is to bump my rank up. I don't expect to reach the 100 top blogs, or even the top 100,000. The top 1,000,0000 will do, for now.
Then of course, there's the Google ranking. And although you can find me if you type in Susanonamission with no spaces, you won't find me on Google any other way. (Google Susan Wills and you'll get an American pro-life activist, a ceramic artist, a lawyer and a winery owner.) There are, unfortunately, many people with my name out there. All American, I think. So I've been doing lots of research about how I can improve the ranking of my blog. Problogger is an especially good source, although ironically, in a recent post, he says 'Forget about page rank and concentrate on good content'.
So first, please help me by going to Technorati, here , where you can create an account. Then search for my page Susanonamssion and choose it as one of your favourites. Thank you. Another thing you can do is link to my page if you have a blog and would like to recommend my blog to others. Either of these things would be great.
And here's what I've decided to do about the blog content.
Given that my blog is quite self-absorbed, I've decided to open my missions up to everyone. Now you can share in my achievements, surpass me, or fall behind as you choose. Of course, some missions will be more achievable for you then others. Mission 015, Chips, for example, will be quite easy for you, as you don't work near the cafe downstairs (unless you are one of my colleagues reading this). Feel free to take on this mission as your own. Just in case you need a reminder, here it is again: ' Increase the ranking of Susan's blog'.
Again on the content note, for more waffly posts that don't fit here so well, I have also started a new blog, Four Zebras in the Road. This one is more for me to waffle at will about all sorts of things that don't fit into my/our missions and is still being refined a bit, although I have high hopes for it. The main pic is one I took in Namibia in September. I think it's rather attractive. Do you?
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