are we there yet are we there yet are we there yet are we there yet



I am very impatient. I don't like it when I don't know what will happen and when I have to wait for things to happen. I am going to drive my beloved boyfriend and everyone around me nuts until this house thing is sorted.



You have been warned.

used car salespeople, but for houses



So the property agent rings me back and waffles away at me about another couple who are interested in the house. The conversation went like this:

Agent: "Waffle waffle waffle waffle another couple are very interested waffle waffle but they have their house to sell, just like you waffle waffle waffle"

Me: "So. Um. Did they put in an offer?"

Agent: "No, but they are very interested. [more waffling] Your offer was okay with the vendor."

Me: [confused pause] "Our offer was accepted?"

Agent: "Yes."



For goodness sake. So yes, our offer has been accepted which doesn't really mean a lot. Paul has to sell his house, and in the meantime, someone else can come along and put in another offer on the house we want - like this mysterious couple who are "interested" (riiiiight). This agent also wanted to know which agent was selling his house and Paul's address so she could ring them herself and "check the progress of the sale". Um no, I don't think so. Smarmy little thing.



Anyway, so now we wait and see. So either expect a housewarming party invitation this summer, or expect more whinging on this site about our house hunting tales.

making an offer they better not refuse



We are putting in an offer on the house today. I mean, I would if the estate agent gets around to calling me. It's a long process before the house is yours, and then of course, you can always end up getting gazumped. I've never bought a house in North America, so I don't know if you are protected against stuff like this over there. Here, it's like the wild west. Scotland has a very good process in place, and the rest of the UK should hopefully follow in the next year or so. In the meantime, while viewed as immoral, gazumping is still not illegal.



From today's amusing house listings, here's an example of how not to decorate your living room:







Note the wallpaper: not one, but two different patterns divided by a dado rail. The ceiling is done in what's known as Artex; sort of like spackle gone mad. The combination of the wallpaper and swirly ceiling is enough to induce vomiting in your houseguests.



From today's amusing spam subject lines: "Lisa_macdonald, Are you snoring yourself to death?" Am I ever!

careful now



I was so certain that Chris had found this online somewhere as it looks so Photoshopped. But no, this is a real sign he saw at the war protest march in London and this is a picture he took himself. This is only going to be funny to Father Ted fans, unfortunately. Then again, even if you don't know the joke, you do have to laugh at the understatement of this placard. It's also worth noting that after the rally, Chris and his missus attended the theatre after an evening of fine dining. How totally radical, dude.





[and please, do not use this as an opportunity to get into a huge debate about Iraq - it's just a feckin' funny sign, awright?]

all the ducks are swimming in the water



Lemon Jelly was absolutely fantastic. Chris said to me at the end of the show, "That was brilliant drunk. Was it good sober, too?" - yes, most definitely. There was much dancing, bouncing, duck waving, singing, and general merriment. Before the show, they played a whole wack of 80s music that only Chris and I appreciated. You know you're getting old when you can belt out the lyrics to Spandau Ballet's "Gold" whilst Cambridge youths give you quizzical looks. The show itself was such good fun, and a lot more energetic than I expected. I thought it would be two guys and bunch of mixing boards (which it was, to a point), but they did actually play instruments and sing a bit. As Jack put it, "He's f***ing playing the cello!" and it was indeed very cool. Heather, Helen, and I danced with rubber ducks, which attracted quite a bit of attention from envious onlookers. Jack had one floating in his pint before the show, and a woman asked if he got it with the drink. She was terribly disappointed to discover that Heather had brought the ducks especially for the event, as she had hoped that they were giving out free ducks to the crowd. Overall, there was a nice feel to the gig and a good time was had by all - drunk or sober.



I happened to catch a review of the show on Radio One as I was driving home. Needless to say, it was delivered by a whingy girl on the phone to John Peel who complained that Lemon Jelly provided "inoffensive dance music" that was "rather twee", and that the audience contained people wearing "sensible trousers" (i.e. old fogies like me). She started off by saying that it wasn't really her kind of music; I think she didn't give an objective review, which is a bit crap if you're supposed to be doing this for a living.



It's a beautiful day outside today. So what are we all doing stuck in here?

hooray hooray it's jelly day



Off to see Lemon Jelly tonight, which should be good fun. It's a bit odd because it's not really music you can dance/mosh/bodysurf/jump up and down to, so I wonder if everyone will just sort of stand there and smile appreciatively. Actually, that's not entirely true - I can certainly see myself bouncing around to the Duck song. Yep, I'll be the one looking like a right dork going "fal de ra de ra do" whilst holding a rubber ducky.



We are paying a second visit to a house on Wednesday and so far, the buyer hasn't done anything vexing like decide not to sell his house. I think that I'm not really being realistic about this whole endeavor; I've already decorated the downstairs level of the house inside my head, and we've not even put in an offer yet. I also briefly considered what sort of food to get for the housewarming party and thought about plants I'd like to stick in the garden. This is definitely not good.

is that so?



"Blogging is not journalism.



Often it is as far from journalism as it is possible to get, with unsubstantiated rumour, prejudice and gossip masquerading as informed opinion.



Without editors to correct syntax, tidy up the story structure or check facts, it is generally impossible to rely on anything one finds in a blog without verifying it somewhere else - often the much-maligned mainstream media.



The much-praised reputation mechanism that is supposed to ensure that bloggers remain true, honest and factually-correct is, in fact, just the rule of the mob, where those who shout loudest and get the most links are taken more seriously.



It is the online equivalent of saying that The Sun newspaper always tells the truth because four million people read it, and The Guardian is intrinsically less trustworthy as it only sells half a million."



[source]



Well, excuse me while I ask my editor to take a look at my blog.