Advice Part 58- Neighbours

Interesting fact- before I moved into my current apartment, I had only ever lived in houses. And this suited me just fine. I liked living in a self-contained place, with a garden, where I had the freedom to do what I liked within my own fences.

But apartment living is VERY different.

My advice to apartment-dwelling young players is that it is prudent to remember that there are other people VERY CLOSE BY if you decide to partake in unusual outdoor activities.

How do I know this? Read on.....

On Saturday, I decided to make a tiramisu. As we all know, I'm rubbish at cooking, so before I started my epic kitchen adventure, I decided to go for a walk to psych myself up. On the way back from said walk, I saw a sign in the vet's surgery saying "We want your old newspaper! Donations needed ASAP" with a picture of a sad looking cat beside it.

How could I resist such a plea for help? Answer: I couldn't

I had, however, already emptied my newspapers into my apartment block's bin, which meant that I would have to do a bit of a "bin raid" to get them back.

Still, no biggie.

However, I forgot about the newspapers the second I got home, and instead started merrily making the tiramisu. And (perhaps unsurprisingly) I decided I'd have to do a bit of "quality control testing" on the sherry used in the dessert. So I grabbed the nearest cup (the measuring jug I'd been using to whisk the eggs), and poured out an ample measure.

It was at this moment, whilst slurping sherry out of the measuring cup, that I remembered the papers. Fearing I'd forget about them again, I headed outside, drink in hand, and started digging around in the bin, tossing suitable papers over my shoulder, whilst taking sips from the cup and smacking my lips.

 

It was only when I turned around that I discovered my neighbour there. She had been watching me THE WHOLE TIME, and was looking absolutely horrified. After all, I was

• Drinking before midday
• Using a filthy measuring cup as my beverage receptacle AND
• Spending a copious amount of time foraging in the communal bin.

Oh dear. 

I gave her a friendly wave, but she quickly headed back inside, clearly believing I was mad.

Maybe I should take up dumpster diving for an encore?

Advice Part 57- "Granny trolleys"

Being the compulsive hoarder that I am, (see Advice Part 52 ), one of the major events of my week is going grocery shopping to stock up on EVEN MORE cans of tuna.

This would all be fine and dandy, apart from the fact that I don't have a car in which to carry my booty home.

But, gentle readers, I have discovered a solution to this problem.

My advice to young players is that if, like me, you lack an automobile and don't fancy online shopping/home delivery, I would STRONGLY recommend investing in a "Granny trolley." And to hell with your self-respect.

First, I should probably define my terms (spot the person who has written too many essays). By "Granny trolley", I mean one of those contraptions consisting of a large sack with wheels and a handle that are popular with elderly women (generally in former Eastern Bloc countries).

Here's a picture:

I obtained my "Granny trolley" somewhat unexpectedly, when a friend was moving overseas, and gave me hers. At first, I was slightly horrified at the prospect of walking down the main street of my suburb with such a creation. Despite the fact that the said trolley is bright red, with funky "off road" wheels and a streamlined shape, I couldn't help feeling that it was, perhaps, slightly "uncool" (yes, I know, I'm the last person who should be giving "coolness" advice, but stick with me....).

So I stowed the trolley away, and thought nothing more of it.

But then my father came to visit, and, upon seeing the trolley, was absolutely horrified. "What is THAT doing?" he exclaimed. "Surely you're not serious? You're not going out in public with one of THOSE?! Do you think you're 80 years old?!" He promptly threatened to disown me if I was ever seen with the trolley.

Needless to say, this was just the motivation I needed to start using it.

The next day, I trotted off to the shops, trying to affect an air of detached insouciance as I wheeled my red trolley along behind me. I was exceptionally embarrassed at first, but I soon realised that I actually quite LIKED it. I could buy as much as I wanted, without having to worry about carrying it all. It was easy manoeuvre. And I was able to sanctimoniously refuse the offer of plastic bags. Bonus!

I've now been using the trolley for 3 years, during which time they have become a bit of a hipster item (groan).

I better not need a new one anytime soon, as buying a replacement will send me broke.....

Advice Part 56- How to write a love letter

As many of you will know, I recently won a love letter writing competition. This was something of a surprise (to put it mildly), given that it was the first love letter I have ever written.

I have a strong suspicion that mine may have been the only entry in the contest. But let's not dwell on that.....

So, you may be asking, how did I pull off this miraculous feat? How do you write a (half-decent) love letter? My advice to young players is that provided you follow a few basic rules, you should be able to compose a romantic missive with considerable aplomb.

Guidelines for writing love letters

• Choose your medium of composition carefully. Typing out a letter on a computer, or (heaven forbid) sending it in the form of text message, DOES NOT create the right impression. Write your letter BY HAND! Pen and paper is good. Fountain pen and nice paper is better (although I must admit that I always associate fountain pens with rich bankers-if this is the impression you hope to create, go for it). Quill and parchment is best (but whatever you do, DO NOT use your own blood as ink- that is creepy, not romantic)

• Open your letter with a BANG. No beating around the bush. Take your hints from Mr Darcy's proposal (yes, I know this is a spoken proposal, but it is good advice): "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.''

• Make your letter short and sweet. Whilst you may be able to write 17 pages on the precise way that the object of your desire ties his/her shoelace, leave it out. Two or three paragraphs is enough. DEFINITELY no more than a page.
• Check your spelling and grammar. OK, so I have a bit of a fixation on this. But come on, a love letter is the chance for you to show off your eloquence and way with words. And spelling "its" wrong is NOT going to create a good impression.

• Play to your strengths. If you have a fine line in self-deprecating wit, then use it. If you are the master of puns, then put some in. But don't go over the top- the recipient shouldn't think your letter is a joke.
• Do not rely on romantic cliches. DO NOT tell your beloved that she is like the sun, or that your heart skips a beat when you see her. This is BORING! Use your imagination. Tell her she is like a delicious persimmon or that the sight of her makes you sweat so much that your eczema breaks out. 

• Be honest. Whilst you certainly want your letter to be complimentary, DO NOT lie. "Embellishing the truth" is OK. So is "careful omission." But don't chronically exaggerate, as the recipient will likely question the authenticity of your sentiments.
• Finish with an equal and opposite bang. If you would like a reply, ask for one. If you'll chat to them at the cafe tomorrow, tell them. DO NOT just finish off by writing something along the lines of "Yeah, well, I've ummm, run out of things to say, so I guess I'll see you around, hey?"

So, hopefully this has provided a few hints for the romantics out there. Ladies and gentlemen, pick up your quills and get to it!

Advice Part 55- Is that a dog coat you're wearing? and other friendly conversation starters....

I'm not sure why, but one of my talents (and there's not many) is that I seem to have a strong tendency to find myself unwittingly involved in rather unusual conversations with people I don't know.

My advice to young players is that whilst engaging in random conversations with strangers is all well and good, there are some people who are best avoided. And if you happen to find yourself chatting to such an individual, my best advice is to RUN.....

This observation was prompted by a series of events that happened on the weekend.....

So. Here we go.

One of my work colleagues, Jessie, has a dachshund, Fido, and on Saturday, Jessie had arranged for Fido to take part in the Dachshund UN, a piece of "performance art", where the dogs sit in a replica UN General Assembly.

I decided to go and watch (yes, I know that says a lot about my social life, but let's not dwell on that now....)

Arriving at the venue, I spotted Jessie. We were having a talk when we were approached by a rather presumptuous lady. I hate to appeal to stereotypes, but this woman was an "Eastern suburbs matron"- rich, rude and pretentious. She strutted straight up to us, and without so much as a "hello", pointed at Fido. The following conversation ensued:

• Lady (addressing Jessie): Your dog. Where is its coat?
• Jessie: She doesn't have a coat. She doesn't mind the rain.
• Lady (tutting loudly): Disgraceful! All dogs need a coat in the rain.
• Jessie (politely): I don't think that's true. Fido used to live in Sweden, and she went out in the snow without a coat.
• Lady (looking horrified): Oh! That is cruel! My Dasher has 3 little coats. He NEVER goes out without them. One of them has genuine fox fur lining (seeing my pained expression). I'm so naughty, I know, but it keeps him so warm. And it's from New York. The other is a rain jacket. And the third he wears around the house. It's a horrible, cheap imitation velour. Quite disgusting.

Here there was a big pause, and then.....

• Lady (grabbing hold of my jacket): Just like this. Yes, EXACTLY like this.

At this, Jessie burst out laughing, and the lady looked a bit taken aback. I just stood there gaping, and then said "Oh. Right. Thanks."

OK, so my jacket is a bit old and tatty, but I didn't particularly appreciate some random crazy woman telling me that EVEN HER DOG would be ashamed to wear such a piece out in public!

Still, I guess if I ever need a replacement coat, I'll know to stop by the pet store and check out their wares.....