There was Ask the Family (Robert Robinson, some smug middle class families and some near-impossible questions). Now there is Ask the Monkey, in which you - my loyal and adoring readers - are able to ask me (i.e., me) almost anything you like.
No, in fact, not "almost anything"; you may ask me anything you like. And I will answer. Just go here to Formspring and follow the instructions. Yes!!!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
I share some 'snaps' from my travels
Here are some photosnaps of my holidays so you can feel what it is like to be me (except on holiday). I am on day 2.5, and so far it is going very well. I have seen a lot of people I like very much, roasted some chickens, bought some cheese, bumped into people in cheese shops, eaten the cheese, taken two aeroplanes, laughed until I cried with the British Airways check-in man, bought some brogues and some very well-cut trousers, bitten my nails, seen my father, and been happy to see the French-Canadian veterinary histopathologist to whom I married. (He has been at a top research scientists' conference in Geneva, and has eaten nothing but cheese and potatoes for a week. This is not a lie.)
In my photosnaps (which are excellent) you may detect a recurrent 'theme', a.k.a. foodstuffs, most of which are made of cheese. You will be glad to know that I didn't have to be in Clapham Junction for long (train was late, obv, and when I asked when it was going to arrive, the lady said "CAN'T YOU READ?", and pointed at a blank announcement board), and I am sure you will enjoy the photograph in which the amphibious vehicle is reversing sharply after having driven in to a tree.
Eagle-eyed viewers will see that I have been in London, scene of my birth and 37 years of my stainless life, but that now I am in Amsterdam, scene of most of 2007 and some of the most happy times in recent years.
Amsterdam is where I would live if I did not have to live in Montreal. I don't mean I "have to" live in Montreal as in I am forced to live in Montreal, but really it is Amsterdam I love the best. Also my brother, RunningMonkey, and his virtually-wife (Our San) and her sister (Our Den) live here, so it is hard to find an argument against it, particularly in view of the proliferation of bicycles, cheese and almond-based biscuits. (It is also spectacularly easy to live here all year round and never, ever see a tourist. Who knew?)
If you too dream of taking photographs like this (slightly odd, mainly out of focus, colours I like, potential to make the most ordinary things very, very pretty), simply buy an iPhone, download the Hipstamatic app and never bother using a real camera again.
Cheese toasties at dawn!!!
NWM
In my photosnaps (which are excellent) you may detect a recurrent 'theme', a.k.a. foodstuffs, most of which are made of cheese. You will be glad to know that I didn't have to be in Clapham Junction for long (train was late, obv, and when I asked when it was going to arrive, the lady said "CAN'T YOU READ?", and pointed at a blank announcement board), and I am sure you will enjoy the photograph in which the amphibious vehicle is reversing sharply after having driven in to a tree.
Eagle-eyed viewers will see that I have been in London, scene of my birth and 37 years of my stainless life, but that now I am in Amsterdam, scene of most of 2007 and some of the most happy times in recent years.
Amsterdam is where I would live if I did not have to live in Montreal. I don't mean I "have to" live in Montreal as in I am forced to live in Montreal, but really it is Amsterdam I love the best. Also my brother, RunningMonkey, and his virtually-wife (Our San) and her sister (Our Den) live here, so it is hard to find an argument against it, particularly in view of the proliferation of bicycles, cheese and almond-based biscuits. (It is also spectacularly easy to live here all year round and never, ever see a tourist. Who knew?)
If you too dream of taking photographs like this (slightly odd, mainly out of focus, colours I like, potential to make the most ordinary things very, very pretty), simply buy an iPhone, download the Hipstamatic app and never bother using a real camera again.
Cheese toasties at dawn!!!
NWM
Saturday, February 13, 2010
I am in London
Yes, dear readers, the magic time has arrived: I am back in my 'home town'. Born in Wimbledon (for some unaccountable reason, for we did not live there and were not Catholics, yet nuns were involved) in 1969, followed by Kensington, Chiswick, Baron's Court and finally - the Monkeyparents' move to Fulham and then East Sheen notwithstanding - to Brixton, London is both my monkey and my master.
I hate it and I love it. I want it and I want to run away from it. I want to live here and lick the pavements every day, and I want to never step foot in it again. I am proud of it and I am not. I am allowed to say what I like about it, but no-one else (particularly people from rubbish cities*) is allowed to be rude about it.
Yesterday, we had a 'day out up West', which involved getting the 159 bus from outside the disused air conditioning factory in Kennington where my dear pals live, and getting off at Selfridges. Here is what I have noticed is great after 2 years and 6 months of living in Montreal, i.e. long enough to get things in perspective and long enough to forget a lot of things, but also long enough to forget the bad things.
Busses (Or is it "Buses"?)
Hello! I am on the top and I can see everything. Is like brilliant tourist bus, but for only 2 British pounds. Also great: people saying "thank you!" at the bus driver when they get off, ringing the bell, Oyster cards, yellow handles, good ads on the bus, people with different sorts of clothes on, people being polite, etc.
When I lived here, busses also involved shouting youths listening to music loudly, people who smelled of despair, never being able to get a seat and queues.
Tea
Anyone brought up in Britain (and probably also Ireland) who likes tea has probably suffered from being in 'the abroad', where tea does not involve boiling water and often involves being asked what kind of tea you want. Any British person knows exactly what "would you like a cup tea?" means, and has also probably said "ooh, lovely" when given a cup of tea at some point in their lives.
Yesterday, at John Lewis*, the lady asked me if I wanted a 'cup or a pot'. I nearly wept.
Advertising
People of Britain: please do not complain about advertising. The advertising you have to put up with is approximately 1 million times better than 90% of the advertising in Canada, where I live now.
Television, radio, newspapers etc
People of Britain: be proud. We may not have an empire, we may not be as funny as we think we are, we may not be that clever, the NHS may be fucked - in fact, we may be fucked in all sorts of ways, etc etc, but oh, the media things! They are brilliant.
Pubs
Hello pubs!!! I will have to fetch my own drink from the bar and the beer may be warm, but that is what I am used to. And also, you may have Hula-Hoops.
Marks & Spencer
Sigh.
There is also a lot of rubbish stuff, e.g. discontented youths, faint feeling of imminent danger, things being very expensive, not being able to buy somewhere to live within 3 hours' drive of a Tube station for less than 2 million British pounds, etc, and (particularly distressing in my case), being able to understand what everyone is saying the whole time.
People of Britain!!! How do you feel about it? Are these the romantic observations of the slightly homesick ex-pat? And how much do you want to be sick when you hear the expression "ex-pat"?
Pip pip!
NWM
* i.e., most other cities apart from about 10 - any suggestions welcome
** Usually I would be at Peter Jones, but I won't dwell on it
I hate it and I love it. I want it and I want to run away from it. I want to live here and lick the pavements every day, and I want to never step foot in it again. I am proud of it and I am not. I am allowed to say what I like about it, but no-one else (particularly people from rubbish cities*) is allowed to be rude about it.
Yesterday, we had a 'day out up West', which involved getting the 159 bus from outside the disused air conditioning factory in Kennington where my dear pals live, and getting off at Selfridges. Here is what I have noticed is great after 2 years and 6 months of living in Montreal, i.e. long enough to get things in perspective and long enough to forget a lot of things, but also long enough to forget the bad things.
Busses (Or is it "Buses"?)
Hello! I am on the top and I can see everything. Is like brilliant tourist bus, but for only 2 British pounds. Also great: people saying "thank you!" at the bus driver when they get off, ringing the bell, Oyster cards, yellow handles, good ads on the bus, people with different sorts of clothes on, people being polite, etc.
When I lived here, busses also involved shouting youths listening to music loudly, people who smelled of despair, never being able to get a seat and queues.
Tea
Anyone brought up in Britain (and probably also Ireland) who likes tea has probably suffered from being in 'the abroad', where tea does not involve boiling water and often involves being asked what kind of tea you want. Any British person knows exactly what "would you like a cup tea?" means, and has also probably said "ooh, lovely" when given a cup of tea at some point in their lives.
Yesterday, at John Lewis*, the lady asked me if I wanted a 'cup or a pot'. I nearly wept.
Advertising
People of Britain: please do not complain about advertising. The advertising you have to put up with is approximately 1 million times better than 90% of the advertising in Canada, where I live now.
Television, radio, newspapers etc
People of Britain: be proud. We may not have an empire, we may not be as funny as we think we are, we may not be that clever, the NHS may be fucked - in fact, we may be fucked in all sorts of ways, etc etc, but oh, the media things! They are brilliant.
Pubs
Hello pubs!!! I will have to fetch my own drink from the bar and the beer may be warm, but that is what I am used to. And also, you may have Hula-Hoops.
Marks & Spencer
Sigh.
There is also a lot of rubbish stuff, e.g. discontented youths, faint feeling of imminent danger, things being very expensive, not being able to buy somewhere to live within 3 hours' drive of a Tube station for less than 2 million British pounds, etc, and (particularly distressing in my case), being able to understand what everyone is saying the whole time.
People of Britain!!! How do you feel about it? Are these the romantic observations of the slightly homesick ex-pat? And how much do you want to be sick when you hear the expression "ex-pat"?
Pip pip!
NWM
* i.e., most other cities apart from about 10 - any suggestions welcome
** Usually I would be at Peter Jones, but I won't dwell on it
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
I write my shopping list
Regular readers will by now be aware that I am "passing through" London town on the way to Amsterdam later this week. I fly at 7.50pm on Friday night (on bloody Air Canada) and arrive early on Saturday morning; from Gatwick, I will take a train to Victoria and from there a taxicab to an air conditioning factory in Kennington where I will be staying in an unheated faux-medieval guest turret.*
I am not in London for long, and will be pausing only to go to the shops and to see, with the pathologist, 2 - 35 (depending on turnout) friends on the way back the following Friday. It will be excellent, and we will drink beers. I am sure of it.
In preparation, I have drawn up a shopping list. It is made of things that I cannot buy in Canada and that I feel the lack of. Here goes:
1. Hula-Hoops. The mighty, mighty Hula-Hoop. Plain, mind.
2. PG Tips teabags.
3. Bendick's Bittermints. The prince of all confections.
4. Muji pens.
5. Interesting and/or well-cut clothes.
6. The Mumford & Sons long-player.
7. A decent fucking newspaper.
8. Marks and Spencer BodyShaper tights
Otherwise, I shall just stand inside the front doors of Peter Jones and weep quietly for what I have lost; I shall not enter the doors of Liberty; I will go past on the bus eating an M&S prawn mayonnaise sandwich and I will not stop at Habitat or Heal's; I will not think about Andrew Edmunds; I will not think about London cabs or always being able to watch good telly and find a good newspaper to read; I will not think about driving across Westminster Bridge or Borough Market or any of those things. No. I will not.
In other news, I have just been sent this:
By the magnificent Dame Emma. "Sting's home turf, obvs", she writes in the comment box below. Yes. I edited this post to include that photograph. THAT is how much I love it.
* Actually and literally brilliant, despite the use of the words 'unheated' and 'faux'
I am not in London for long, and will be pausing only to go to the shops and to see, with the pathologist, 2 - 35 (depending on turnout) friends on the way back the following Friday. It will be excellent, and we will drink beers. I am sure of it.
In preparation, I have drawn up a shopping list. It is made of things that I cannot buy in Canada and that I feel the lack of. Here goes:
1. Hula-Hoops. The mighty, mighty Hula-Hoop. Plain, mind.
2. PG Tips teabags.
3. Bendick's Bittermints. The prince of all confections.
4. Muji pens.
5. Interesting and/or well-cut clothes.
6. The Mumford & Sons long-player.
7. A decent fucking newspaper.
8. Marks and Spencer BodyShaper tights
Otherwise, I shall just stand inside the front doors of Peter Jones and weep quietly for what I have lost; I shall not enter the doors of Liberty; I will go past on the bus eating an M&S prawn mayonnaise sandwich and I will not stop at Habitat or Heal's; I will not think about Andrew Edmunds; I will not think about London cabs or always being able to watch good telly and find a good newspaper to read; I will not think about driving across Westminster Bridge or Borough Market or any of those things. No. I will not.
In other news, I have just been sent this:
By the magnificent Dame Emma. "Sting's home turf, obvs", she writes in the comment box below. Yes. I edited this post to include that photograph. THAT is how much I love it.
* Actually and literally brilliant, despite the use of the words 'unheated' and 'faux'
Monday, February 08, 2010
I offer you another hypothetical fight
This time, with pictures only; you may write your answer in the comments box. (I have decided that poll mechanisms are very early-February 2010.)
You may also like to spend a few minutes wondering what would happen if Mr Clean got in a fight with Mr Muscle.
Up to you. As you wish.
You may also like to spend a few minutes wondering what would happen if Mr Clean got in a fight with Mr Muscle.
Up to you. As you wish.
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