There is a model of San Pietro on my desk (actually, on my boss's desk, where I am sitting and having delusions of grandeur today). It started off pink, then was blue for a few months. Today it changed back to pink. Like some sort of tacky, plaster-based Global Hypercolour model... This fascinates me. I am easily amused :-)
Speaking of Rome, I am feeling smug to see that it's one of the best value European destinations over the bank holiday. F and I (if he has finished his dissertation, which I suspect he won't have done) were planning some kind of long weekend away, and, where we were hoping to try somewhere new, I'd quite like an excuse to get my ass back to Rome so I can fill my rucksack with more balsamic vingegar and olive oil and other such potential terror threats they probably won't allow on the plane.
The problem with books is that I like them too much. I am being very liberal in my throwing away of stuff I "don't need" ("need" is a relative concept; I'd argue books are a great necessity) so that we don't have so much to carry when we finally move in a few weeks. I have even been lovely and charitable and dumped all these books/videos/clothes on Camden High Street's various charity shops. The problem? I am buying more to replace them. Charity shop books in particular are good value - I bought Private Eye's "The Secret Diary of John Major, aged 47 and 3/4" for £1! I am reading it now (and would recommend it) despite the fact that I have six books in a pile in the corner of my room that I am intending to get through at some point.
My hallway was cleaned last week. Yes, I was shocked, too. We stood in what felt like the vast open (fridgeless) space of our hallway and marvelled. I don't think I've ever seen it clean before. Maybe it was deliberate, now that they've finally driven us into moving out.
Speaking of Rome, I am feeling smug to see that it's one of the best value European destinations over the bank holiday. F and I (if he has finished his dissertation, which I suspect he won't have done) were planning some kind of long weekend away, and, where we were hoping to try somewhere new, I'd quite like an excuse to get my ass back to Rome so I can fill my rucksack with more balsamic vingegar and olive oil and other such potential terror threats they probably won't allow on the plane.
The problem with books is that I like them too much. I am being very liberal in my throwing away of stuff I "don't need" ("need" is a relative concept; I'd argue books are a great necessity) so that we don't have so much to carry when we finally move in a few weeks. I have even been lovely and charitable and dumped all these books/videos/clothes on Camden High Street's various charity shops. The problem? I am buying more to replace them. Charity shop books in particular are good value - I bought Private Eye's "The Secret Diary of John Major, aged 47 and 3/4" for £1! I am reading it now (and would recommend it) despite the fact that I have six books in a pile in the corner of my room that I am intending to get through at some point.
My hallway was cleaned last week. Yes, I was shocked, too. We stood in what felt like the vast open (fridgeless) space of our hallway and marvelled. I don't think I've ever seen it clean before. Maybe it was deliberate, now that they've finally driven us into moving out.
posted by RLS at 1:41 pm
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