I didn't want to end the year on a viral

We should all ring out the bells and celebrate this joyous day. I know it's not party time for New Year's Eve yet, but that is not why I am rejoicing anyway.

I now know how to attach a toilet float, bleed a radiator and my chest of drawers with the drawer that I yanked on and broke has now been swapped with those belonging to Mr FF. My lessons in extracting the OU zip files via Windows - the only thing this OS is used for in our household - will take place later, as will mastering the sound system connected to the projector. It's the toilet float I am most happy about though - whoever would have thought that being able to click a green plastic end into a white plastic spool at the bottom of a toilet cistern would have made me grin with sheer delight.

Mr FF will leave here about 6am Sunday morning and is booked into a Paris hotel; a subsequent flat share for a few weeks in Paris is all set up, which takes the heat off and leaves me time to make appointments for him to view prospective studios at his leisure, which we can then furnish with all our spare stuff - a taste of home for him.

Fellow bloggers - I hope 2010 brings you a few crumbs of comfort, some glasses of cheer, a tickle and a cuddle and a lot of happy moments. We can never expect perpetual happiness - it would get boring - let's just ask for a few laughs over the next twelve months and many happy meetings in the blogosphere

Bisous à tous

36m people have seen this - be one more

I bet - like me - you'll sit and wait to see how the bride will make her entrance.

I've never posted a viral on here before but this made me smile

Blogging about daily life suits me fine

A blogger whom I visit regularly - well his site anyway - thinks that people blogging about their daily life is quite dull. He prefers to deal with important matters in the world today and I like to read his views and also the comments that have been left. However, personally, I much prefer the inconsequential, la vie quotidienne*, the micro aspects that people encounter - their worries, hopes and silly jaunts.

We've not much time here at Fancy Towers for silly jaunts - it is next Sunday that Mr FF will take himself off to Paris ready to begin his new job there. We've not been able to find him somewhere suitable to rent - even though I have left dozens of messages, voice mails, emails and - in the end - got into a nervous irritable state about my lack of success. It was all to do with this Xmas and new year lark; people just have not been around. He - with so much on his plate (he is working at home to finish something before he starts this new position) is trying to allay my fears by telling me he'll be just fine in a hotel to begin with. So be it; I just wanted him settled, that's all.

Anyway, on our noticeboard is my list of things that I must be shown before he leaves:

How to attach the toilet float (see previous entry)

How to bleed the radiator

How to unzip my marked OU essay (my notepad runs on Firefox and to get my essay I need to go to one of our workhorse machines in the basement office. One of the machines has the dreaded Windows - every techie's loathed operating system).

How to play music through the big sound system connected to the projector in the living room (for when my ears are sore from my mp3 headphones).

Once these four things have been explained to me I'll know that I am ready for this life as a Person Alone. Until then even going to the toilet will contain a little knot of worry.


*gosh, people throwing in French phrases is just so pretentious

Me versus the toilet

Whilst Mr FF is spending a couple of days in Paris getting acquainted with his office and his team, ready to start there for real on 4th January, I've come up against my first hurdle. Every house has at least a couple of things that are not as straightforward as they should be. One of our little problems can be the toilets.

First of all you have to realise that I am the least handy person in the world. I can't wire a plug, change a fuse, put up a shelf - all that sort of thing is a mystery to me. I grew up in the sixties and girls were not then taught woodwork,electrical and plumbing basics or how to wield a hammer; on the other hand I am a good cook and can run a home quite well - who says gender sterotyping is a waste of time?

Back to the toilet - for the last couple of years both the upstairs and downstairs loo have developed an intermittent problem. They keep flushing and left unattended would just go on for hours and we would have the most horrendous water bill. Most times a couple of presses of the knob is all that it takes to make it stop. Occasionally this fails to work and Mr FF removes the top and fiddles about in the wet bit with all the levers and knobs - this does the job. My biggest worry about Mr FF being away is that the toilet will perform its major problem - yes, this did happen yesterday evening.

I only had a moment of mild panic before I eventually unscrewed the silver screw on top, lifted off the cistern lid and tried to scrabble around to re-attach the left side lever that had come adrift. I couldn't find what to hook it on to though - I tried all sorts of variations and the wretched thing refused to click into place. I did however press everything else that was inside and pressable and lo and behold I got the flushing to stop. So, the downstairs loo is now out of action but at least there isn't the sound of the perpetual pump in the background.

So I guess in my first household challenge I got around 6/10 - I solved part of the problem but didn't resolve it to my satisfaction.

Must do better

Our lives will change in 2010

Remember when I recently blogged about Mr FF getting stuck in a lift in a London bank just before an important meeting. Well, that meeting was the second interview in a five interview process (two in person and three on the phone*) and, after about six weeks of waiting and wondering, we know now that he has indeed got the job. From the beginning of January he will be spending the week working in Paris and will be renting a studio flat there. He will try and return as many weekends as he can but, as we are a four hour drive from Paris (and the road tolls are €22 each way),this is not something I expect him to do week in week out. When you have a new job - and this is a very good job - you need to rest and relax at weekends, not sit in a car for the whole of Saturday morning and Sunday evening.

This is a real change for us. We've been a couple now for 12 years and the last seven here in France have seen us have together 24/7. It will be very strange to be here alone with the two dogs, but I'm going to treat it as a chance to perhaps get out a bit more and meet some new people. A lot of the time I have been staying in to try and stop the dogs from barking and generally disturbing Mr FF working away in his basement office. Now I will have no excuse.

All this time here in the French house we (mainly him but I've done my little micro bit) have been running a business but to be self employed can sometimes be good and can sometimes be scary; this last year has been very scary. The French really make the small business pay a lot of dues and it can be almost crippling. I'm very proud of him for getting this job: he didn't even apply for it; an agent approached him and set those proverbial wheels in motion.

Ultimately, when the housing market picks up and he is sure that he can see himself in this job for life (a French job if good is usually for life, people don't chop and change very much), we will move as near to Paris as we can afford. So, a new year comes and with it a lot of change for us.

*including 1.5 hrs in technical French

Habits

Sometimes I wonder if I suffer from a form of OCD because I do have certain habits that I wish I could break and find myself unable to do so. I suppose I shouldn't really do posts about the less desirable parts of me but say, in about 40 years time when I can no longer remember what I was like, this might be a useful aide-memoire to remind me of my younger self.

My first ever memory of an obsession was having to be kissed eight times (four on each cheek) by both my parents before I went to bed - they must have been very loving and understanding. Even now I still love the shape that the 8 makes - who knows why kids develop these things?

As a young adult I used to crack my knuckles a lot and, even though it makes Mr FF wince, I still do it occasionally, admittedly usually during a row to (perhaps) emphasise how stressed I am becoming. I'm sure it can't be good for the finger joints but, for a nano-second, there is a very satisfying feeling in making one's bod make such a noise.

At night, when lying in bed, I also crack my left arm. I sort of flick it out and it makes this noise and I feel things slightly move around.I don't know how I first got the idea of doing this and I always tell myself it can't be doing me any good but yet I still carry on.

I get quite obsessional about my shoes, slippers or boots matching the top I am wearing. My mum drummed it into me when I was still very malleable that you should never wear more than three colours. The thing is that I can extend this ism to people around me and really really have to bite my tongue* when confronted with someone wearing lots of different hues, especially if the tones don't match.


Don't I sound ghastly.

Do you have any bloody annoying funny little tics like these?

*I once went to a wedding where the best man had a navy suit with brown shoes - I do not know to this day how I resisted saying something