Potiron machine part seventeen

I wrote this on August 20, 2008.

I am sat on a two-seater couch with a coffee table and four chairs as my audience. I’m still in the Holiday Inn in Heathrow surrounded by people conducting the public aspect of their life. This means both business and pleasure. I must be incredibly cheap and stubborn, or in other words, frugal. I have yet to pay for a thing today and have demanded that I don’t pay charges I have accrued at this hotel. I adore the emphasis on customer service in the hospitality and tourism industry. Without a company credo forcing the ‘grin and bear it’ motto on its employees, I’d be out at least £80.

I have twice swallowed my gum today. I’m not especially proud of that. Normally I can make a delightful choking slash hocking sound and save the gum from the depths of my throat. Not today. I must be out of practice. Has England deteriorated my street skillz?

The ending of that last paragraph was bittersweet.

Géraud is going on a Guinness diet so that his bide can get some R&R. The limit, for at least a solid seven consecutive days, must not exceed one Guinness par jour. And there is no option for accumulation. Although, I must admit that Guinness has been the source of some great nights. It has also fed my addiction of list-making.

Prix de Guinness en Angleterre

The Albert Hotel (Widnes) £2.50

The Manors Arms (Widnes) £2.80

Park Royal (Warrington) £3.60

Wetherspoon’s (various locations) £2.20 £1.69 on Monday

The Railway (Runcorn) £2.54

The Mohammed Ali (Widnes) £2.75

The Hillcrest Hotel (Widnes) £2.60

The Bradley (Widnes) £2.50

The Old Queen’s Head (Chester) £3.00

O’Neil’s (Liverpool) £2.60

Evenwood Farm Pub (Runcorn) £3.00

The Wellington Arms (Runcorn) £2.40

The Barley Mows (Runcorn) £2.60

The Bears Paw (Frodsham) £2.57

Holiday Inn Heathrow (London) £3.75

The temperature outside can’t be more than 65 and the air conditioner is on. I don’t understand the reasoning for using A/C when the temperature outside is actually colder than the A/C setting. It must all feed into the illusion that this is summer.

THEN I WROTE THIS

My eyes have developed super powers. I can look out a window and at any given time see rain. It’s similar to how people with ESP can sense spirits and ghosts. The sun can be fully round and egg-yolk yellow and still the gouttes will present themselves to my eyes. Now, mostly for fear of persecution, I have not divulged my super power to anyone. Imagine the harassment of “the girl who sees rain” or even worse “the freak who thinks water is constantly suspended then drops in the sky”. It would certainly kill my career as a Children’s TV presenter. Children don’t like rain it makes them shrivel and feel old, which they fear, unless they are more then 6/12^ths of the way towards their next candle blow.

What is the best way to teach fractions? Age or Money? Do you think that drug dealers excelled in chemistry in high school? I bet they were pretty adept with a triple-beam balance.

I just burped but I could hardly hear it. It’s not silent in this lobby. I think the best silence villain was a salesman this morning who was trying to sell (con) three men into the candy machine business. To me, it sounded instantly bogus. He was aggressive and too prepared to knock out questions of doubt. This man probably loves a good striptease. At one point during his spiel he actually said this, “don’t worry about getting mugged because as soon as it happens the thief will realise he just grabbed a bag full of 20p coins and let go and it’ll make quite a scene as they spill all over the ground”. SO how bout some candy machines? A man reminiscent of the glasses man in Willy Wonka minus the glasses and cool creep and add slime and shiest. The sugary sweetness of candy loses most of its appeal when you know a greased down suit stands behind it, rubbing his sweaty hands to warm his frozen soul.

For all my illiterate readers

I'm in the Holiday Inn near Heathrow Airport near London but definitely not in it. Géraud is here for a conference on the ISO1400 so I came along (under the impression the conference was going to be in London). I think it may have not been the best decision to play tag-along seeing as all I've done so far is eat and spend money on transportation. However, I did find 50p so it hasn't been all losses. I think I should gamble. My luck isn't terrible and I need a new vice.

Another thing that somewhat validates my being here is that I have access (paid) to the internet and I can finally get in touch with the world and upload photos as well as sign up to have internet in my maisonette in the nord, or as Grod says, chez les abrutis. And besides the techonological aspect of the hotel there is the bouffe bit. So far I've stolen 2 parts of boursin, 1 part of nutella, 1 pot of miel, 1.3 packets of special deluxe muesli, and 1 indian buffet style lunch. Somehow despite having a few pieces of argent I still feel penniless and my basic instinct of gather and store all food in sight kicks in. I think Géraud is finally starting to realise how I ate for free in New Orleans...slight of hand + guts + moxie.

I've been trying to plan a journey to the lake district for this coming weekend but I'm having trouble because the map makes it look bigger than it is. Ok, so this is not really my problem but I'm still impressed with how maps can make areas look vast which aren't. We can criss cross the entire lake district in under 5 hours and that includes the travel time from radical Runcorn. --> I just like to open up the forum for giving Runcorn and good nickname using tackiness and alliteration.

And now, so as not to alienate the illiterate fans of my blog, photos from Chez Grod & Poule.

Storage Closet/Guest Room

Bedroom

View from our love shack

Bed with Storage machine

Desk in Bedroom

Washing Machine and Coffee Maker in Kitchen

Bathroom Door view from Hall

Bathroom

Toilet, Bidet & Sink

Rub a Dub Dub

Grod playing racing games à l'aise

Front Door view from Hallway

Kitchen

Kitchen sink

Géraud

Guitarre

TV

Dining Table

Eating Yoghurt

Papa Tauveron et Matthieu

Mama Tauveron

Grimace

Someone ate too much?

This is only a Taste

I wrote this on August 8, 2008.

It’s been a long time since I saw you, saw you, saw you.(Aaliyah, if you have any questions)

Géraud and I have moved out of our prisoner’s chamber in the police lady’s pad and into a 1st floor maisonette across the bridge in Runcorn. We have traversed the pont, which while easy to do for day trips is not often down amongst the English folk from these parts. A colleague told me that it’s rare for someone to switch sides of the River.

Ah, and that brings me up to my next tidbit of information. I have found a job. Well, in all honesty, I didn’t really find it, it found me. About a month ago I went into a recruitment agency in Runcorn and registered because I was at a low point in my job search. Well they called me two days after I called them back, with a temporary position as a receptionist covering for a receptionist that is out sick. (1.her sickness is due to a paper allergy) (2.WHAAA why be a receptionist when you are allergic to paper?) So for the last two weeks I’ve been working at TDG European Chemicals in Runcorn, where I answer phones, talk to truckers over an intercom, and sort loads of mail. Especially on a Tuesday. Out of divine respect for a single God, the Royal Mail Service does not operate on Sunday…= time lag in post. Truckers have to mail in their fuel delivery records as well as their time sheets. These are often stained with coffee and grease. Not often enough is there a smushed Twix bar clinging to the outside of an envelope, but it does happen. And although tempted, I did not indulge.

I indulge myself in the gourmandise that is French cheese and wine. We have our own fridge in our very own petite maisonette, and it’s overwhelmed by cheese. The pungent odour of cheese lingers as soon as that door opens. It’s a pleasant reminder of the power of electricity combined with refrigeration. Apart from our cheese domination, our fridge is a friend of vegetables and not very often meat. This might be my doing, unintentionally, of course.

Carrie once asked me about what I eat daily in Angleterre, and I shall you indulge you, Poule. It goes something like this, muesli + plain probiotic yoghurt + two probiotic capsules + a spoonful of flax seed oil, a banana/pomme + sandwich of the day(usually veg and cheese, but for the last few days it’s been PB&J), café au lait, petite pomme de nain= everything I eat before dinner time. Dinner can be a wide array of anything, but it’s usually vegetable dominated. Géraud has just eaten his very first corn on the cob and sweet potato. This French boy has been seduced by the pleasures of Fine American Cuisine. I’m anticipating a very excited GROD for Thanksgiving.