Intermission.

I will get back to completing the tales of my US adventures but I also said I'd let you know what I'm up to here in muggy England (and when I say "you" I'm aware that no bugger is reading this, but adding to my blog stops me from going crazy while I'm too shattered to do anything else and also prevents me from pestering the Texan with countless phone calls ). The latest project is house hunting, well, room hunting to be more specific. This is an activity I loathe, I'd rather shoot myself in the foot. If anyone out there knows of a room to rent in a nice house in Chorlton where the the other occupant/s is sane I'd be very grateful for their contact details. Otherwise it is the laborious process of searching ads in shops and on the internet; phoning and finding that 80% of the rooms have already been taken. Trying to figure out if the person on the end of the phone is someone you could live with to save you the trouble of going to a viewing if they're not; viewing somewhere and 80% of the time having to find a nice way to say 'no thanks' ; being aware of being assessed by others when you know very well you are the perfect housemate - they just don't know it yet; having to decide in 15 minutes if you could live with these people and also figure out what nasty things have they temporarily hidden under the stairs and THEN you have to MOVE IN - always exhausting. I'm seriously considering pitching a tent in Peters Square. On the plus side, I've always used a move into a new house as an excuse to buy a new duvet set. That might not sound exciting to some of you out there, but I get a major kick out of it. Sadly domesticated I know but it keeps me happy.