Yes, it's true, I have been in Edinburgh for a full month now! Time flies when you're drawing all day. And what a month it's been; bouts with burocracy, electric cookers, weird scottish weather phenomenae and more. A full month and I'm still writing all of this from an internetcafe. But not for long, because I finally have a phonenumber! Yes, it's true. You see, I can't remember if I told you this before, and I can't be bothered to look it up, but in order for me to get an internet connection set up at my house, I needed a phone line. And in order to get the phone line installed, I needed a UK mobile phone number. Well, I've almost got two out of three now. The phone line will be installed somewhere next week and then I can get an internet connection set up so I can finally leave this place full of other people and sticky keyboards forever! (Unless I invite a lot of strangers to my house and spill lemonade all over my keyboard) Wish me luck.
Living in another country for a month can also make you think about all the things you miss that you took for granted in your own country. Before the hate mail starts, yes of course I miss all of you! Well, maybe not all of you. You know who you are. But before I came here, I never thought I would miss this: bread. They have bread in Scotland. But it's well, not that great. Factory made, squishy stuff, posing as bread. See, when you get some bread at a supermarket in Holland, it may not be as good as the bread you'd get at an actual baker, but it's alright. Here it's gross. Same with vegetables. I have yet to find a green grocer who sells vegetables of some actual quality. What I have found though, is a baker. One who sells bread that tastes good, great even! Only one problem though: last week I went down there to get some more bread, so I could have lunch at the studio in stead of having to go out and get something unhealthy. When I got there, they where closed! They open at 9:30! What self-respecting baker opens at 9:30?! Guess I can only get bread during the weekend. Still better than no bread at all.
One thing about Edinburgh that I'm still not used to after all this time, is the smell. I haven't touched on this in my previous posts, but if the wind blows in the right direction, Edinburgh stinks! There's a brewery nearby and smell is just nauseating. Let's just give it another month.
Oh, and last week I found out it's a bank holiday this Monday. I didn't have time to plan anything, so I guess it's just gonna be a relaxing day off.
End of month one.
Sunday 6 May 2007
Tuesday 1 May 2007
Lamp to the Slaughter
I was having lunch at a Chinese buffet (for some reason everyone around here loves to do that, and you know me, always doing what everybody else does so people will think I'm cool), when I got a call from an electrician. He was sent by the letting agent to install my new lamp.
You see, the living room ceiling light that was there when I moved in, wasn't going to win any beauty contests, but it did its job and blended in well enough with its surroundings. I had already discovered the box in my hallway containing the new one, but I didn't really feel like putting it up, because 1: My ceiling is quite high and I don't have a high enough step ladder, 2: It's very, very ugly.
But alas, it's technically the letting agent's appartment, not mine, so they installed it. I have to say though, now that it's actually hanging from my ceiling, I can see just how ugly this thing really is. The entire room is light; wood coloured floor, magnolia coloured walls and ceiling. The new lamp is dark grey, almost black. It hangs from a chain and is shaped like a chandelier, with five lightbulbs.
Then I turned it on. Wow! That's one bright light! With the flick of a switch, my once cosy living room changed into an O.R.! This light is so bright, I'd rather stare directly at the sun for half an hour than turn it on. This light is so bright, it can be used to send morse signals to spaceshuttles. This light is so bright, you could send it off to college. At least the chain is short and the ceiling is high.
This other time I was hanging out, watching a movie (I finally saw my first Hitchcock film, North by Northwest! Yay!) when I heard two loud beeps. I had no idea where they came from, so I came to the only logical conclusion: digital ghosts! Later I found out it was the entryphone. It beeped again and when I picked up this voice was asking for someone whom, as far as I knew, didn't live in my appartment. Turns out he had pressed the wrong doorbell. In stead of the button underneath the appartment number he was trying to reach, he pressed the one above it. Or the other way around, it's confusing anyway. I sure hope this won't happen too often.
Worst. Post. Ever.
End of days... is a film so bad, it's funny.
You see, the living room ceiling light that was there when I moved in, wasn't going to win any beauty contests, but it did its job and blended in well enough with its surroundings. I had already discovered the box in my hallway containing the new one, but I didn't really feel like putting it up, because 1: My ceiling is quite high and I don't have a high enough step ladder, 2: It's very, very ugly.
But alas, it's technically the letting agent's appartment, not mine, so they installed it. I have to say though, now that it's actually hanging from my ceiling, I can see just how ugly this thing really is. The entire room is light; wood coloured floor, magnolia coloured walls and ceiling. The new lamp is dark grey, almost black. It hangs from a chain and is shaped like a chandelier, with five lightbulbs.
Then I turned it on. Wow! That's one bright light! With the flick of a switch, my once cosy living room changed into an O.R.! This light is so bright, I'd rather stare directly at the sun for half an hour than turn it on. This light is so bright, it can be used to send morse signals to spaceshuttles. This light is so bright, you could send it off to college. At least the chain is short and the ceiling is high.
This other time I was hanging out, watching a movie (I finally saw my first Hitchcock film, North by Northwest! Yay!) when I heard two loud beeps. I had no idea where they came from, so I came to the only logical conclusion: digital ghosts! Later I found out it was the entryphone. It beeped again and when I picked up this voice was asking for someone whom, as far as I knew, didn't live in my appartment. Turns out he had pressed the wrong doorbell. In stead of the button underneath the appartment number he was trying to reach, he pressed the one above it. Or the other way around, it's confusing anyway. I sure hope this won't happen too often.
Worst. Post. Ever.
End of days... is a film so bad, it's funny.
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