Mac attack.

I’ve cracked it. Today during an insane tidy/dump/clear session (coupled with the most productive work day on record) I’ve managed to resuscitate my old iMac (the white one but not the round one) that has been ‘broke’ for a year or so. 

Ben had suggested fixing it or chucking it and I hadn’t bothered to do either. So I gave it one more shot today. And bingo bango bongo the bloody thing works! Now has latest mac OS upon it and is in the coolest place in town.

I’ve put it in the bedroom on the shelves over the bed. Wireless keyboard and mouse. Netflix subscription and speakers. It’s comput-tainment!

Coupled with the ability to log into it from the living room – which adds the benefit of spying on the bedroom. NICE WORK.

I also got my WIFI radio working (such a busy day) – prompted to me by Sean on Skype for an hour (which was majestic) and now have Brit, Thai, Sing and US stations on call.

Our bedroom is now a ‘media’ room – fact. I’m waiting for Extreme Makeover to burst through the door at any moment.

Moral of this story – don’t give up.

I’m In!

Joy of joys (it’s turning out to be a bloody good week I can tell you) I have the keys to my new apartment! I’m frankly ecstatic. It was tense because of my trip to Bali – for which I leave tomorrow – and the logistical nightmare of moving in when you’re in Indonesia and your flats are in Manhattan. But it’s OK. Because I’m bloody in!

Aron and I took a stroll over earlier to get the keys. A landmark moment, and he liked it and let me tell you – he’s picky, v e r y picky. In fact he summed it up with a laugh and the phrase ‘this is a bachelor pad’. Yes I think it is. 

So, thanks to good friends (Rachael) who will oversee my movers and watch them destroy all my cherished posessions, and my cleaner, Kitten – who has now offered to do all my laundry, run errands and COOK FOR ME, I’m in good hands.

I liked the fact that Kitten the cleaner told me that I was not to eat any more ’send-y out-y junk’ and she would make Uruguayan food for me, whatever the hell that is. I’m excited. She’s also going to pre-stock my fridge and do stuff like that. So Kitten is now a Maid, not a cleaner. Fact.

It’s been a shitty couple of weeks, so what with this, Holley graduating, and my trip to Bali – I feel like a corner is being turned, a cloud lifting and a new beginning, er, beginning.

Hurrah! All that remains now is another trip to London to catch up with dear friends and we’re all set!

 

Shot below is my new living room.

 

Huzzah! A night on the ’tiles’!

Tonight the city beckons with her dainty hand, which belies a wicked wicked core.

We’re off to Country, on Madison for dinner with Over Qualified Many Secret Skills Friend in the city who’s just returned from Long Island. We are VERY excited.

Today Ben has remodelled the entire flat.

Well, we’ve moved the bed, but above our bed, lies a super chic hospital bed curtain (but in aluminium and lined fabric) and to move it was an act that involved a mop,  4 seperate trips to the ‘hardware store’ and plenty of ‘arrghhhs’ and flat batteries on a drill.

Why does a rechargable drill never really recharge?

Ben can be so manly at times it hurts.

A great weekend.

Well thanks to Marie and Julian we’re all clinically exhausted. Manhattan is fresh out of Gin, there’s nothing left in ANY store, and that includes most of fifth avenue, but what’s missing is our sense of love at a great weekend. We did laugh. We did certainly drink, and all the while Marie and I were under the influence of cold medication and warm hearts. Thanks for the flowers guys – it was very sweet.

So life returns to (ab)normal, no one’s here, it’s just the two of us and Top Chef. Sweet joy and sorrow.

In other news, I’ve had to put a note under the downstairs neighbour’s door. Their bass is kicking out and literally moving our sofa with every Def Leppard record they play (I’m not sure it’s Def Leppard – and isn’t it amazing that man can play the drums with one arm?)… but it’s bass-y. I drafted it in a warm and friendly way, simply saying could they please turn down the bass before we come down there and rip their feet off. (Seemed like a novel way to make a point: as is writing a book I suppose).

You may or maynot know that when we lived in Islington, London, we had some serious noisy neighbour issues, so although I’m lighthearted right now, it could all change. If you turn on Sky News/CNN and see a 23 pound lighter communications ‘whizz-kid’ holding a bunch of shabby chic loft dwellers hostage – c’est moi.