It is all very well, this talk of bears with crossed eyes, and dogs with their heads in packets of crisps; of hairstyles from Paris and riding a giant donkey in the buff - for in truth it is all fanciful nonsense, recounted to distract myself (and the more attractive of my readers) from the rather more boring facts.The boring facts are these. I am not spending my days pursued by bears and flashing my gusset on the front cover of "Naked Hot Monkey" magazine; I am packing. This week, I pack up one flat in Amsterdam, leaving behind some friends and quite a big bit of my family; on Friday I travel to the London to pack up another flat and say goodbye to more friends and the rest of my family (who are in fact in France).
After that, around the 20th of September, I travel to the Canada! There, I shall forge a new life for myself (inc. finding a job, friends, hairdresser, dentist, crack waxer, etc). And I will not be afraid or lonely, for in the Canada are entertainments in the shape of beavers, mooses, snow, cabins and ice fishing; Celine Dion magazine pullouts and Pierre Trudeau dolls to collect; grades of maple syrup to distinguish blindfolded and, most importantly, a kindly veterinarian pathologist to soothe me to sleep every night with the special syrup he usually injects into horses.
What's more, moving to the Colonies provides me with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to rid my plush London apartments of the twelve tons of tut* I have gathered over the years, some of which I list below. If you want any of it, it's yours.
1 x Reebok exercise bike. Used twice in front of breakfast TV, c. 2003. Original price c. £350. Free to anyone who collects.
1 x fucking annoying, fat, virtually dead cat (see above) who answers to the name of "Monster" and is useless. Free to anyone who collects. No questions asked.
6 x identical muffin tins
500 books, various, including three copies of Moby Dick (stained), one copy of Who Moved My Cheese? , one copy of Reading Your Lovestars (spine uncracked), c. 23 different editions of the complete works of Jane Austen, five copies of To the Lighthouse and last (but most certainly not least!), the collected works of the Pullein-Thompson sisters
2,342 items of clothing that do not fit me anymore, probably infested with moth. Should probably sell on eBay but can't be arsed.
1,210 cosmetic items, including 342 different body creams, 45 different types of conditioner and over 500 different eyeshadows. All at least 12 months old. Free to anyone who collects.
Dust. 2 tons.
Bits of shit, including postcards that I cannot remember receiving, photographs of people whose names I cannot remember, and things written on bits of paper, the significance of which I no longer understand.
1.2m CDs, mainly free ones acquired when doing some work for a high street retailer (called Woolworths) between 1996 and 1998. Includes 3 Texas albums, "Now That's What I Call Rock", Vols I - 67, and three copies of George Michael's Greatest Hits.
3.2m cassettes, mainly including the Cocteau Twins, Everything But The Girl, Van Morrison, The Smiths, New Order and REM, 'compiled' between 1985 and 1988.
12 wooden spoons
54 mugs
A cake.
Come on! You know you want it!**
* is this the correct spelling for a word I have often heard my father use, but never seen written down?
** the cat or, at the very least the exercise bike. Preferably both.
14 comments:
Hurrah for moving.
You will then have permission to accrue much more sh*t over the next few years. Hurrah!
Oooh, good luck with the move = it's exciting, and that.
I was in a heated debate recently about how to spell tut, sadly there was no conclusion apart from a certain frostiness.
Also may I heartily recommend Freecycle, a system by which you list things you don't want anymore and people who want them will come and get them, I have given and received bikes a sofa and a fax machine so far, it is marvellous.
I for one shall never forget who sent me a postcard of a fibreglass smiling miner.
x
Wouldn't mind cat. However, prior tenancy of dog may be a problem. Will consider.
I thought it was tat.
I am not referring to your post which as usual was a stunning mixture of intellectualism, whimsy and foreplay.
But the word tut. Which I thought was tat.
No. They are different. This is the truth.
You have pony books???? Really??? You must never be parted from them. You will regret it.
If you *must* get rid, then bury them somewhere you can dig them up from in 15 years time, because you WILL need them again.
i thought tat was a vulgar abbreviation of tattoo.
anyway, welcome to the colonies. this continent's not ruined yet, like the old one, but you're welcome to help with the cause, as it were.
there is an insufficient number of british cats around here, so i do hope you'd reconsider taking him with you. he'd be very useful at spreading civility to the colonist cats.
Hooray. I will watch for your arrival.
I can help with some of the finding things, like dentists and such, but not right away. I will be wearing special " I'm allowed to be here" clothes and watching very rich men play golf at the end of the month.The week of your arrival I will be trained on how to watch.
NWM, I love you!
The CDs alone are priceless; and they sound like exactly what a self-haircutting pathologist might like. Don't part with them.
i speak on behalf of the cat who refuses to leave his home and current mistress who is kind, loving and all that he could ask for in a companion. don't pimp me out like that again monkey...you have been warned. did our time together mean nothing to you?
Beth. They are coming. This is the truth.
Anon - you fucked up my sofa, my armchair and my life. I never want to see you again, you feline fool.
Ms B - I love you too. The pathologist, however, does not love such music. He has excellent taste. That is why he loves me.
Asta - be under no illusion. You are now officially my best friend.
Kermit - they wouldn't let him in. He has a criminal record and scabies.
Minty. I am coming to visit. I am also going to stop only communicating with you through my comments box and postcards.
Tea and Cake - no chance. I am only allowed a tiny, tiny room in the attic with no windows for my things, but as long as there's room for the pony books, I am happy.
I htought that it was, "tat", as well...
Hey welcome to Canada!
You will like it(much more than you think!) Then you can join the throngs who emigrate here yearly...
be under no illusion. You are now officially my best friend.
Excellent. Do I get a badge?
Hello Miss NWM
As the truly official deeply and maddest cat lady the other side of Watford..I have been barred from looking after any more cats that I do not own.
I do hope The Monster goes to a good home.
Good luck with your Canadian Adventure
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