You should see what it's like during a messy week.
6 years ago today I arrived in London. I came for a year, on a secondment from the Jo'burg office.
It was freezing. After getting through passport control (where I had to submit to a health check) and dragging my many bags through a unfamiliar and transport system, I got to South Coulsdon, where I ordered my first minicab. I had no idea what was going on, and I didn't understand anything the guy said on the phone. Still I got to Coulsdon Manor.
I wandered around Coulsdon a little, but it was beyond freezing (and mind numbingly dull) so I ate lunch at the hotel and passed out during the Grand Prix. The next day I made my way to Croydon, where I would be working, and was to spend the next 14 or so months. For a while I even thought Croydon was London.
Last week I got my permanent residency. This means they can no longer kick me out. In a years time I can apply for citizenship.
Although I am pleased that I have my residency, and far more relaxed as I now have some security that's not dependent on me remaining with the same company, the home office still managed to prove themselves Squirrel Monkeys.
As I have only a few pages remaining in my passport, I got a new one in South Africa. I didn't sign it as my signature is digitally embedded under my photograph. And no one has ever checked my passport for a signature ever. Except the home office who suddenly (I have been told this has never been a problem before by my visa agent) decided that they would not put the stamp in the new passport as it's unsigned.
So as a result I have my stamp in my old passport with no space left for visa stamps. Which means I have to pay £250 to the bastards to get it moved, or carry around two passports.
Bureaucratic Squirrel Monkey Knobheads!
Sigh. I need to stop paying these people to be my friends. I don't think I'm getting the value for money I deserve. What happened to all the hero worship.
I bought two swanky suits from the new Ted Baker Endurance store that opened up in Covent Gardens on Friday. I've also bought 5 work shirts and 4 new ties. I felt it was time, since I haven't bought new clobber for work for quite a while and with the new project and new beginnings and such, it was needed. As part of my new beginnings I'm clearing out all my old ties. They are not quite 'in fashion' anymore. One might question if they ever were in fashion, as my fashion sense is not quite the same as Razorheads.
Free to a good home ... for whatever purposes. However if you actually do use them for nefarious purposes I want to see pictures of who got tied to the bed. let me know if you want one (or more) and I'll send them on.
Current Takers are
They are all silk except for one which is acrylic and has a 'rude' picture on the inside. They're all in pretty good nick more or less.
If you're curious, these are ties I'm keeping.
My parents were always The Beatles, Cliff Richard, Neil Diamond.
I would have been more The Stones, The Doors, Pink Floyd.
In fairness I think Cliffy Boy was just my mom, but our tastes musically have always been quite disparate. It's not that I disliked my parents choice of music (although they often disliked mine) but just that my taste came from somewhere else. Many people would question me using the word taste but to them I say "Screw you mutt breath". At least I have my own unique brand of music taste, which in all honestly is most likely better than yours.
Relative to your parents era, what's the differential in your music taste to theirs?