It is here at last! The great day when I can announce to you all that I have found a place to live! Yeeeeah 😀
In less yeah-worthy news, I am struggling to blog on my new toy. More on that in a minute; but for now, here’s the good news:
I have viewed approximately ten zillion and seventy-eight apartments and houses in the past few months. Regular readers will know of my terrible* trials during this time. It started with the stressfulness of packing my stuff up from the old place, and musing about how my possessions resemble popcorn, in my handy guide to what you shouldn’t do when moving house:
Spend more time staring at your pile of stuff, wondering how it got to be so big, than actually packing it. Like…how does this happen? It all fits into your living quarters (relatively) neatly, then as soon as you start placing it all in boxes, it goes BOOM and expands to ten times the size. Like when you make popcorn. Right? Except less tasty and less suitable for movie snacking. Also a lot heavier.
Then, a while later, when I had viewed a few places and become somewhat disheartened by all the FROTHINGLY BONKERS people and UNSUITABLE FOR HUMAN HABITATION houses there are out there, I did not hold back on how I felt about the whole thing:
Oh, the joyous world of house-hunting! Oh, the merry fun of seeking out non-psychos to live with! Oh, the delights of paying agencies eleventy thousand million pounds just to hand you a piece of paper!
Shiny thing irritates me and helps me simultaneously
You may or may not (probably not, but still) have noticed the lack of a post on Friday. This is partly because I was suffering from a combination of being over-excited and over-tired. Picture a sugar-high toddler, and you’ll get the idea. Not someone you want writing a blog post, is it?
However, it was also due to technical difficulties with ye olde worlde super expensive piece of amazing modern technology; to wit, my new iPad. It is still awesome, but blogging from it is presenting ISSUES. The free WordPress app is fine for checking stats, and pretty good for replying to comments, but is hopeless for composing a post. So I did some googling, and downloaded BlogPadPro, for the princely sum of 2.99 of your English pounds. It’s slightly better than the WP app for composing a post, but wouldn’t, for example, let me blockquote any text. It also required several attempts to upload an image. Oh, I also tried logging into WordPress from the browser, and writing the post from there, but that was a non-starter.
The upshot is that I am writing this on my laptop. So before I howl any louder with frustration, does anyone have any advice about a better blogging app for the Pad of i?
Howeverrrrrr.. remember when I rashly made a New Year’s resolution to write every day? And remember how I envisaged my iPad being helpful for this? Well, guess what. No, go on, guess. Give up? OK, I’ll tell you.
I have been writing every day. Yes! On the iPad! And I have been neglecting friends, family and various other duties a little, because I have so much to say. I started writing a story and the words are falling out of my fingers. (That sounds weird. You know what I mean.) So here, in unedited first draft form, are a couple of paragraphs from The Unstereotypical Sailor:
I have said they were in a pub; but it is probably not anything you would recognise as a pub. You see, when you are the only drinking establishment for one hundred and thirty-eight miles, you can afford to ignore modern trends in pub furnishings, such as toilets, a bar, or glasses for the patrons to drink out of. What the patrons and the landlord fondly imagine to be a pub is in fact a smelly, filthy, leaking shed, with assorted barrels of beer littering the sawdust floor. These barrels are the only seats in the shed, and are also the main source of alcohol, apart from Mother Martha’s moonshine which she sells outside.
The method for extracting your drink is to grab a sawn-off cattle feed tin from the floor, pour away any contents (solid or liquid, urine or beer), persuade someone to move from their seat or simply punch them until they fall off it, fill your tin, and consume the beer, attempting to avoid cutting your mouth on the sharp edges of the sawn-off tin. Once you have got yourself outside a couple of tins (they are very large tins), and you hear Nature calling in her unmistakeably pressing voice, you push your way through the assembled company until you find yourself in less foetid air. This is the signal that you are outside, or as near as makes very little difference, so you unzip your trousers and relieve yourself on whatever objects happen to be nearest.
*#firstworldproblems and all that, I’m well aware.