Handbag Trauma

During my gap year in Paris, I treated myself to a mustard-yellow Marc by Marc Jacobs handbag. I still remember the whole experience with fondness - paying the very helpful and rather flirty sales guy my hard-earned and totally deserved money, who then chased after me with the box for the bag which he’d forgotten, and the satisfaction of leaving the shop with a bigger-sized bag that the one I’d gone in for. 

Three years later, and the bag was going grey and looked… well to be honest it was a complete embarrassment to have it hanging off my arm. So I did what any straight-thinking, money saving woman would do, and purchased a small pot of mustard-yellow shoe cream online, with the intention of ‘buffing’ it back to beautiful. I still don’t fully understand why it was such a bad idea… I was using common sense, wasn’t I?

Apparently not, and after days of returning to it to see if another 5 minutes of scrubbing cream into the leather would revive it, I gave up. Still grey, and now with a sticky coating all over, I put it into a Tesco bag and left it on top of my wardrobe for the next 7 months. The shame!

So come Christmas time I finally decided to do something about it. No, pay someone to do something about it. It didn’t take long to find a host of ‘handbag clinics’ online, and after  phonecalls and several quotations, I settled on handbagmakeover.co.uk, the cheapest and friendliest by far. 

They sounded really great, despite admitting after I explained my revival attempt: “Thank god this isn’t a video call or you’d have seen me totally cringe at the thought!”

So I shipped off my sorry-looking mouldy-mustard coloured bag and hoped for the best (and also hoped that it wasn’t a scam where people willingly send off their designer bags to an unknown address). Within a week, I received an email displaying photos of a brand new-looking bag. Shiny clean, back to it’s bright mustard yellow, and polished to the nines. My DIY attempt cost me an additional £10-20 for a ‘de-grease’, but the bag surgery was worth it. 

These websites have before-and-after galleries to show off their handiwork which is always fun to browse through - although HOW someone could put oily items or loose bottles of make up into a Mulberry Bayswater is quite beyond me. One lady had lost her Chanel bag to a house fire, resulting in one surviving panel. It did make me question, however, if it was still technically a Chanel bag if the four new panels had been made by someone other than Karl Lagerfeld, but then again I’d be pretty distraught if I’d lost a £2000+ bag to flames.

I paid £104 to have my bag revamped and revived - and some websites offer a total re-colour of your choice on your bag. It’s definitely cheaper than a new one, but do look after your bag in the first place, and definitely do not attempt a DIY involving shoe cream of any sorts!

Troubled Water

Another two productive days, writing my own articles for the website and getting started on features for the magazine including skin care products, answering Men myths (whether shoe size relates to penis size, if hair products cause baldness, if briefs reduce sperm count etc) and emailing a billion companies for high-res images to use for the magazine. All in all, it's still amazing and going great.

This morning started off rather disastrous though - I'm glad it doesn't continue in that vein! As a lady pushes past me on an over-crowded train, I suddenly hear a crunch and realise she's managed to puncture my pot of M&S bean salad, spilling juice all over the carrier bag. After debating whether to just give up and bin it (it started to look like I'd just vomited into a plastic bag and was waving it around freely), I stop at a food counter at Vauxhall to grab a spare bag to decant it into, and spend the rest of the journey carrying it upright like a highly explosive bomb.

After work I finish the day off with a quick trip round Oxford Street in torrential rain before meeting up with a friend for a trip to Wagamama's. We have a good catch up over miso soup before walking along Southbank in the rain.

To top the day off in the same spirit that it started, I return home later to find water absolutely gushing from a light fitting in the hallway ceiling, whilst Jen is at a Set List show. After some running around like a psycho wombat attempting to dodge the waterfall (no lies), I realise there's only one person to call: my dad. Half an hour later, and I've managed to locate the stop tap and turn off the water, strategically place a wok, a glass bowl and a frying pan on the already-sodden stairs and throw down towels over the lake of water rapidly making it's way to the kitchen. Look at me, a strong independent woman, finding the stop tap. Not stressed at all.

By 11pm, Jen's dashed home and we've got a Polish plumber round, who has bad news and good news after looking at the water tanks in the loft. Ever the optimist, we start with the good news, which is that he can make it temporarily safe. This leads to the bad news that the tanks are for-no-better-words 'fucked' and need replacing. We spend the rest of the evening laughing about it, whilst water keeps steadily dripping through the light fitting in Jen's bedroom. At least she hadn't gone ahead yet for a new stair-runner to be fitted in, or that too would have been screwed!


More articles of mine online: A Matter of Time and A Toast to Breakfast. 

Confessions of a Multi-Tasking Waitress

You are all probably aware by now that by daytime and regularly night time I am a waitress at a local village restaurant. I say restaurant because it definitely isn't as tacky or low-standard slap-up meals as you may find in a pub, and the word 'pub' seems to suggest (or from experiences as a small 6-year old) dingy rooms full of smoke and beer bellies. Minus the smoke nowadays, some village pubs still aren't the nicest of places. Anyway, step into this restaurant and you're transported away to a beautiful French-styled restaurant, highly expensive and elegant chairs that I can only stare at with jealousy, old fashioned duck-egg shutters on the walls and delicate lace curtains in the conservatory room and exquisite grey/lilac velvet curtains in the piano room. I do love where I work, and the chic decor definitely makes up part of the reason why I've kept my job there for the last year! 

I'm certain that anyone working to serve people every day will agree that you definitely meet a highly 'interesting' range of people, not all 'good' I must add... But these people keep my shifts turning and pass the night away and the more people I get the quicker it goes. So I shouldn't complain really.

I can only roll my eyes and scream VERY LOUDLY (inside my head) at some of the antics and words our customers come out with, and yesterday was no exception. We start the shift tying on lunchtime's apron, and polishing some cutlery. Polishing cutlery must probably be the bane of most waitresses lives - I was delighted to discover upon switching from a previous pub that the waitressing staff didn't have to polish cutlery (drying and polishing every piece of cutlery that has gone through the wash), and that was down to K.P. ('Kitchen Porter', AKA pot-washer, another one of my side-line and occasional jobs!). But this evening KP wouldn't be in for another half-hour, and we were already out of knives so I got my white towel out and started the mission of polishing. (Oh, it's a mission alright!)

Back to the bar and we're busy catching up with each other's busy lives. Sorry, I mean, getting to work on the many important jobs prior to our guests and customers arriving, such as wiping sauce bottles, polishing salt and pepper shakers, checking ashtrays constantly and making sure all the cutlery laid out in the restaurant is perfectly aligned. This is where OCD habits are applauded and creates a natural eye for the high-standard of neatness and perfection that is upheld at this restaurant. So whilst standing around at the top of the bar, welcoming guests and waiting for our next bookings to arrive I find myself stuck in a conversation with someone very intent in telling the whole world every single item in her household made by Apple. Did you know, she has two iPod Nanos, 2 touchscreen iPods, they all have iPhones, mac computers.... did I mention their iPad? And oh yes, of course, their iPad2, and... you get the picture. Breathing slowly and keeping calm - it's only the beginning of a very long night. I lovingly think back to my MacBook and trusty iPod which has survived a washing machine and a very hormonal cat. I bet theirs isn't PINK. 

On with the evening. My worst nightmare, of fourteen cronies coming through the door, and into my 'section'. I spend the evening losing my voice having to practically spell out the soup of the day, and take a simple order. Upon putting the first drink down, the man-in-charge is all set to order. 'Just let me finish getting your drinks over and then we can sort out ordering!' I HAVE TWO HANDS. Later on, the man-in-charge is all set to get onto dessert whilst half his table are still eating. Does he want me fired??

And so continues the evening. Table six don't want bread but want bottle water. Still. No, sparkling. No, still. Actually sparkling. I wait oh-so-very-patiently by the table whilst all my other tables are demanding dishes, drinks and desserts as well, and I'm STILL standing at a table who can't make up their mind over WATER. Table three need steak knives before their steaks arrive, table eight are sitting with open dessert menus but I know they're too busy gassing to have even noticed they were put in front of them. The lovebirds on table two are quite happy sitting, staring borderline-obsessionally into each other's eyes, which is all very well but I need to spray and relay it for the next booking on that table who have already arrived and are waiting at the bar. Meanwhile, in other news, table one are tugging on my apron (WHO DOES THAT?????), the kitchen bell for food is ringing and table seven are waving at me for the bill, Jedward plan to make a movie about their world takeover and Lindsay Lohan begins her house arrest with roof-top sunbathing. I think by this point it would only take for an old granny from the W.I. party to patronisingly pat me on the arm, yank me down to her level and squawk 'KEEP YER HAIR ON LOVEY' for the screaming to actually start coming out from my mouth. 

By the end of the night I'm manically laying up tables, perfecting the straightness of cutlery and blowing out candles like a very excited six-year-old. Chairs are linted (see what I mean about high-standards?!), ashtrays washed and polished and the outside chairs brought in, and with that I think it's fairly safe to say we can all sign out and depart. UNTIL NEXT TIME. I sprint to my car and shamelessly speed all the way home - I DON'T CARE about low-emissions and saving fuel, I JUST WANT MY BED!

Things to do when you are positively BORED OUT OF YOUR MIND.

What to do when there's nothing to do...

1. Iron random peoples’ clothes. ‘Random’ being housemates. ‘Clothes’ being the heap of clean washing that’s been sitting in the kitchen for a week. [Occupation rating: 10-30 minutes. Add a bonus 10 minutes for holding your hand under cold water due to iron burns.] Spice up your evening when a mystified housemate enters, wondering if there really is a washing fairy in the house. Or scare the hell out of him by informing him that his mother has moved in. 

 

2. Arrange the household’s DVD collection in alphabetical order. [Occupation rating: 2 minutes for under 20 DVDs, 5 minutes for under 100.]

3. Strip and remake your bed. [Occupation rating: 10 minutes for double bedding, add an extra 5 for cushion arranging. Interest level: 2/5, or 4/5 if you bang on some house-pumping music and make your bed whilst doing Gaga-esque dance moves.]

4. Clean out the waste-paper basket, leaving only the nice and interesting newspapers in to be used for fire lighting. Put any old and crumpled papers or leaflets in the recycling bin. [Occupation rating: 2 minutes, Interest level: 1/5, or 4/5 for any OCD’ers out there who get a kick out of throwing crap out and tidying things up.]

 

Before and After

5. Tidy up the cutlery drawer. [Occupation rating: 2 minutes, Interest level: 1/5, or 3/5 if you’ve gone out and bought a pink tray to add a female-touch to a house with 3 guys.]

6. Set an all-new high score on Bop It. EXTREME. [Occupation rating: 10 minutes-10 hours, Interest level: 5/5]

Waxing Lyrical

After failing miserably this morning to upload my photos onto my blog (bad points for internet ‘facility’ at the hotel), we wandered off in the direction of Grévin Waxworks. One of Paris’ most expensive attractions (18€ for reduced tariff - students, seniors etc), but we both felt it was worth it. We walked immediately into a party-themed room, with George Clooney right by the entrance. And my-oh-my he looks even more like William than I thought. Seriously. I just can’t get away from that family!! 

There was also a hall/room of mirrors, and after a grand staircase we were pushed into a completely pitch black room, staggering across to the sounds of ‘avance, avance’ and then witnessed a stunning light display (more interesting than it sounds) in the room of mirrors. Then back into the world of celebrities, including Harrison Ford, Madonna, Elton John and Ghandi, hundreds of snapshots and a waxwork history of Paris. My favourite waxwork was Naomi Campbell, who looked absolutely incredible and fierce, and I loved posing beside Marilyn Monroe. There were a few really quite scary and hairy men (most of them waxworks!), including this enormous rugby player who looked more like a dementor in rugby kit. And Mother Theresa looked more like the mother in The Life of Brian. But it was fun! Although there were many characters and people we didn’t recognise, as their fame laid within France… 

 

Hotel facilities: Internet

The hotel advertises wifi for it’s guests, but then charges you 5€ for 60 ‘non-consecutive minutes’ or 24€ for 24 hours (non-consecutive minutes). With hindsight, the latter would have definitely worked out best, seeing as time flies when you’re having trouble uploading photos through a slow internet server. So the internet is eating my money up, and I could have uploaded the photos at home in a third of the time! I made a fuss and they gave me back my 10€ and gave me 2 hours gratuit. So it is SLOW, and every hour I end up having to go back down and ask for ANOTHER password and username. 2/5. Because after all, there IS internet… 

Room/House Keeping standards - We returned this afternoon so exhausted, and were welcomed into our room by the aura of housekeeping. Puffed up pillows, straight duvets and clean towels. All perfect and tidy once more. :) Our shower cap and bath soap stores weren’t replenished however, but my laptop was still there when I returned! 4/5. And if they can give free bottles in the gym, why can’t they leave a some ‘welcome’ bottles of water in the rooms? IT’S WATER FOR GOD’S SAKE! Not Gin! 

   

So this afternoon we spent being appreciative of the fact we have a hotel. I could really get used to having it as a permanent home. Or at least, a ‘second’ home - like Kate Moss having an apartment at the Ritz in Place Vendome. Then this evening we went out for a showing of Le Diner de Cons - one of my favourite French films, at the theatre! We were very lucky to get a small box to the side of the stage, and even luckier when the other two seats in front of us weren’t filled, so we could move forward to the stage! It was a really good production, starring Philippe Chevallier and Régis Laspalès - well-known comedians and actors in France, and it was a very good performance! 

Came back and battled out another hour’s internet for free (the server is ridiculously slow!! I hope you’re aware it has taken me about 10 minutes to upload EACH photo in the last two days… Internet score has dropped to 1/5 but a boost to customer service for giving us free hours) and after a hot shower and a towel wrapped round my head, I can rest my feet! Also, for anyone who is confused, France DOES change their clocks back and forth the same time as England. The plus side of losing an hour, is that I’m one hour closer to being home, and I didn’t have to put any effort into making it go by quickly! 

The Last Post?

Have no fear... It's unlikely that I actually will die, so I'll still be around to post of course... I've spent the day working myself up in a tizzy about the whole machine thing - turns out it was a hired machine thing for the garden, and was due back today. Something tells me the the 'new' price of hire is going to be a little larger than a library fine. Oh help me. He'll come back and kill me and then bring me back to return it again tomorrow.

Today I managed to relieve some stress through de-cluttering my room. AND IT LOOKS AMAZING! I'm so pleased. I'm a very ruthless person, but usually my de-cluttering sessions include chucking out a load of old things (despite regretting later), but it's not as if I have years worth of memories and accessories in my room, which is why I've never really chucked out a lot of things. But, as it's almost time to return to England (we're under the 20 days mark - get polishing that Ark!) I started cramming as much as I could into the one box I have, taking down my photos and binning old magazines etc. It was very refreshing and 'clean'-feeling. I now have white walls and clear table tops, and had a good spring clean whilst I was at it.

Anddd... another achievement of the day, I happened to see, quite by chance on the Invader Map that there was a Space Invader reasonably close to the girls' Tennis Club! I had an idea the area it could be - a huge busy roundabout, so not exactly the easiest to wander around searching high and low, but, as I was driving the girls to tennis this evening, I spotted it right on the viaduct right by the turning! And I'd never seen it before, yet it was SO obvious! So after dropping the girls off, I got some snapshots. :)

However, the girls in the car after school were quite unbelievable - absolutely rejecting the idea that they should have to endure a car journey with a piece of machinery in the car. It stuck through the boot into the middle of the back seat, but it wasn't as if I was asking them to sit with Christmas tree branches waving up their noses! It took up the MIDDLE SEAT. Big deal! But I had Marie kicking the back of my chair constantly on the way to tennis, and no one seemed capable of pulling their bags out from the boot... You'd have thought they'd gone from Limo rides to being packed into a Smart car or something!

Back at home... I thought I'd try and attempt to do at least one thing right by 1) not cooking pasta for tea and 2) waiting to serve it when William arrives home. We have now waited an hour, it's gone cold and congealed and the girls have already raided the kitchen... I can't give him another reason to throttle me on arrival. Wish me luck :S

EDIT: 9.14PM:

Well.. I made it, and relatively pain-free (although I did manage to plunge my thumb into a pot of boiling water and rice. Good times.) 

He didn't get too mad.. although he was annoyed.

I should have called him.

I should have stopped to ask someone for directions.

I should have looked harder at the map.

I should have looked on the street for numbers (wtf??)

I should have tried harder... 

Apparently it was really easy because 'it's only opposite the swimming pool'. BIG DEAL. We don't GO to the swimming pool. It could have been a baseball court and it still wouldn't have made a difference. 

He then tried to tell me that he might be charged 5000€, but then changed it and said 500€. I am so dead. And the surprise is... Oh, no surprise - I have to go back tomorrow. But, keeping dinner on hold until he returned definitely scored some serious brownie points, and all his frustration vanished the moment I waved meat under his nose. :)

What did your last slave die of?!

So despite feeling positive about this week, by 9am this morning I've had enough. The house is in more of a bombsite than ever before. There are meat bones on the floor for the dog. On the floor. Not in the dog bowl, in the MIDDLE of the FLOOR. The kitchen is a tip, the rest of the house is a dump. *run home screaming* William had a go at me this morning because I didn't lay up the big table his standards for breakfast. He wants a big breakfast, with everything spread out on the table and plates and cups all set out.. For no one to actually eat together - pretty much ALL the time Juliette and Margot grab something on the way out to school - and a hell of a lot of toast wasted. SORRY that I wasn't fully enthusiastic about wasting my time and a lot of tea and toast to bother laying up for a banquet. 

To add to the hassle, he sent me on a trip to 'just up the road it's easy you go up up up up then down down down down and it's just around there'. Um, ok. To deliver 'a really heavy machine, it's in the car' which does Idon'tknowwhat and is for Idon'tknowwho. So I spent an hour driving round after the school run with the boot half open, driving up and down huge boulevards with other traffic searching for a place I didn't even know the name of... I gave up. Came home, ranted and bitched about how stupid and moronic the whole thing was, and then finally succumbed to Radio 1 online - after all these months - and cleared and completely de-cluttered my room. *...and breathe out*

 

The AUDACITY. He stuck POST-IT NOTES on all the kitchen appliances with 'to clean, thanks' on and left it for the cleaner. I actually feel sorry for her, it's bad enough having to pick up meat bones and scrub all the pans leftover from the weekend... but this is one step too far I rather think!

Dreading this evening. William said after the whole breakfast scenario 'be sure to make a good dinner this evening' as if it was to make up for the FAILURE and disappointment of this morning... jeeze, it's not as if I usually serve up dog food for dinner! But if he's expecting a 3-course meal then there's a good restaurant down the road. I'll be sure to give him better directions than his ones this morning. Argh! He's going to go mental when he discovers the machine is still in the car. OhhelpmeGod. 

Day in the Life of a Teenage Taxi Driver

You're probably already aware of the crazy amount of school runs I do just in one day, but once again it's felt like today hasn't stopped for a pause. And there IS no 'positive lining' because this day has still managed to drag on! It feels like it should be Tuesday by now!

We manage to locate the car (back in the Scenic, and after a weekend you never know where the car is or how you expect to find it) and load into it - Caroline included. First stop to school for Juliette and Margot. On to the train station to drop Caroline off, and back to school for Marie. She isn't speaking to me this morning for some unknown reason. Return home.

The daytime was ok I guess - I passed time by doing laundry, loading and unloading the dishwasher, powering through my French work folder and making lists of things to do/buy once I return home. It still feels like a lifetime away. I shocked a friend by telling her how that last day we saw each other, was 'only' two weeks ago. Even she agreed it had felt much longer than that!! AND I HAVE FOUR WEEKS TO GO. *head on desk*

Afternoon. The cleaner is happy with me as I washed and folded all the towels. I don't mind doing that as it makes the towel cupboard look neat when they're all fresh and folded, and my towel is also clean and new for tonight. I get a pat on the back. Gee, thanks. I run down the garden manically at 3.45 to collect Juliette who finished early (fortunately she remembered to tell me this morning, a change from last Friday when she texted me at 4 saying 'where are you?' but hadn't bothered to tell me she was finishing early...), ended up running back to the house to pick up the car keys and then back to the car and made it just in time. Came back home, watched 20 minutes of Gossip Girl before heading back out (Juliette in tow) to pick up the other two and go onto tennis. Marie is still not speaking, and deliberately left the boot open when she pranced off to Tennis. So kind!

Back home later this evening, I wow them with a frozen lasagne meal, although I hid the packaging... Caroline gets excited at having food, and starts trying to eat from the cooking tray AS I'm serving it. That's kind of it for today... my clothes are clean, my room is tidy, the house has recovered from the weekend, and there's one more box crossed off on my countdown list. Roll on Tuesday!

Hotel de Paris!

Well, after a varying week between non-productive and slow to crazy and everything happening at once, today I'd set aside to transform the spare room slash storage room on the top floor (the girls' floor!) into a chic Parisian chambre for Rosie to stay. Cracking the knuckles and after some 'before' photos, I spent the day transferring unwanted storage from the top floor to the storage room in the basement, changing the bed three times (the colours didn't match!) and hoovering, dusting and de-spidering the room (the latter more beneficial to me).

So, the moment you've all been waiting for - I hope you love before and after photos just as much as I do! And once again: THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY. Another week bites the dust.

And after...