- OurProperty.co.uk are interesting, good interface, but you have to signup to a free account, and there's a montly search limit.
- my previous favourite, nethouseprices.com have just redesigned the interface and frankly, searching is harder
- this week's winner is houseprices.co.uk, who not only have a lovely, minimal web2.0 look about them, but also have a googlemaps mashup so you can see prices visually. They get the prize*.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Property prices - a very London-dinner-party conversation. Since the Land Registry data was opened up, there's a number of players:
Special thanks to Justin for pointing me in the direction of this fabulous paschal linkage: it's like a manic seder. Love it.
My buddies at Ghettoplotz made Timeout. Yay.
I have been a little quiet for the following reasons:
- I am waist-deep in a great project, which is connecting all the dots of my varied interests.
- my laptop died. Again. Can you believe? Anyway, it's gone off to a Brussels health farm (aka Sony repair centre) and the UPS pickup bloke and I had a deja vu moment when he came to collect it. It's twoish years old, it's a laptop. These things happen. They will fix it.
- In the meantime, I have ordered a new laptop because (a) I need one and (b) it's my year end. I was all ready for a Toshiba Portege, and then, at the last moment, went Sony again. New Vaio winging its way to me as soon as their warehouse move is over.
- I efficiently transferred my cash ISA to people who had a better rate. Nearly a month ago. Turns out they send a cheque, second class, with no signed receipt or security tracking. How twentieth century. The Abbey have no idea where my money is, and some bloke (Robert) in the Chairman's office had never even met the Chairman.
- We had a freeholders meeting for my block, which has been re-arranged three times since Jan 4th, and two people didn't turn up, one because they "didn't know about the meeting" despite emailing confirmation of their attendance to my neighbour
- I have written a list for my Pesach cleaning. It is long.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
art
Every time I see this ad on the tube, I get confused. See, I have a friend called Dan Favin (NB, not he real name, power of google, blablahblah) and every time I see this poster I think to myself, "I didn't know Dan Favin was an American minimalist installation artist."
Must give him a call. The one I know, I mean.
NB: the real Dan Flavin.
Must give him a call. The one I know, I mean.
NB: the real Dan Flavin.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
You know it's nearly Pesach when people email you JibJab's "Matzah!".
In the olden days, it's was about the calendar, the clock changing, the post-Purim thang that meant you should start cleaning your cupboards with a vengeance. Nowadays, it's all digital.
In the olden days, it's was about the calendar, the clock changing, the post-Purim thang that meant you should start cleaning your cupboards with a vengeance. Nowadays, it's all digital.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
If you were at the Brighton Festival 2006 on Saturday May 6th, you could see Chuck Palahniuk and Irvine Welsh in debate. Say.
Monday, March 27, 2006
I don't always blog the details of my work, as lots of it is confidential/too technical for interest, but today's the Guardian Changing Media Summit, where I did the research and put together the programme. I am the Xeni Jardin of my own life. Watch this space.
The weekend - movies; Capote (fascinating, but ultimately depressing because he was so selfish), V for Vendetta (hard to believe it was based on a vision of Thatcherite fascism, but nowadays looks remarkably like New Labour), my local gastropub (North London Tavern) with some old friends - where I was delighted to see the "no smoking till after 10pm" sign, but when I queried the waitress about it, she told me the person smoking in the restaurant area was the owner, a great shabbat lunch that went on till six pm, and two sets of Sunday papers.
Friday, March 24, 2006
So I hate The Jewish Chronicle (JC as it's known) website with a passion. It's retro, not optimised for firefox, looks lousy and doesn't have any news on it, because you have to subscribe, in some remarkably 1996 way.
So you can't see the three stories I just read...
the Sunderland community, where my grandmother came from is finally dying, and they're having their last Shabbat services tomorrow morning. All that's left is a chevra kaddisha (burial society) - no more shuls, schools, ladies guilds, cheders... it's the story of regional UK Jewry, but I feel sad
the JC informs me there is antisemitism on the Guardian Comment Is Free blog.
Danny Finklestein, one of the stable of regular columnists, and also an editor of the Times, has written this week's column as an open letter to Tony Blair.
Putting aside the obvious issue that since the death of Chaim Bermant some eight years ago, that opposite-the-letters-page slot has not felt right, the JC's columnist strategy has been - largely - make sure they're famous elsewhere.
It works for some people, but I feel strangely frustrated that Danny's written a political column with no Jewish content, or context, or even sensibility. In the interests of transparency, I should state that Danny is somewhere on the friend-acquaintance spectrum, and I admire him as a writer and a wit. But this week's column? It's interesting, sure, in the Times maybe. Is it a JC column? I don't think so.
Here's what I think a JC column is about (bizarro-world stream of consciousness to follow)... anything ranging from...
- the Institute of Jewish Mother Studies at Manchester University
- Jews and the property gene (everything from why we live in cul de sacs to why we can all price property at twenty paces. We can't take it with us when the Nazis come).
- Is there really more antisemitism, or are we all Woody Allenly angsting about it?
- What do we think about outmarriage?
- Why are we obsessed with counting Jews?
- How does Anglo-Jewry function now that the strong link with Israel and zionism is problematic (less people going on year schemes/aliyah/Israel summer trips) - what is the diaspora potentially without the place we left?
- Tay sachs/genetic testing - do people take this seriously?
- The "shul with a pool" thing - with less and less people doing the religion thing, what does the culture thing mean?
- are Jews really hip? Is the Jewish hipster thing coming to the UK?
- is there a Jewish conspiracy
- can the community create an inclusive non-judgemental space for everyone who walks through the door, or will we always be judging people's hats and kippot and haircuts
- how does a community retain its independence - difference - while playing a part in the broader society
- interfaith stuff
- regional communities and how they survive as they shrink
- does the internet in some way remove the need for community?
- is there really a resurgence in Jewish learning?
... the list goes on and on. These are first thoughts, sure. But it seems to me there are people who live and breathe this stuff, and they're not all writing for the JC. Yet.
So you can't see the three stories I just read...
Putting aside the obvious issue that since the death of Chaim Bermant some eight years ago, that opposite-the-letters-page slot has not felt right, the JC's columnist strategy has been - largely - make sure they're famous elsewhere.
It works for some people, but I feel strangely frustrated that Danny's written a political column with no Jewish content, or context, or even sensibility. In the interests of transparency, I should state that Danny is somewhere on the friend-acquaintance spectrum, and I admire him as a writer and a wit. But this week's column? It's interesting, sure, in the Times maybe. Is it a JC column? I don't think so.
Here's what I think a JC column is about (bizarro-world stream of consciousness to follow)... anything ranging from...
- the Institute of Jewish Mother Studies at Manchester University
- Jews and the property gene (everything from why we live in cul de sacs to why we can all price property at twenty paces. We can't take it with us when the Nazis come).
- Is there really more antisemitism, or are we all Woody Allenly angsting about it?
- What do we think about outmarriage?
- Why are we obsessed with counting Jews?
- How does Anglo-Jewry function now that the strong link with Israel and zionism is problematic (less people going on year schemes/aliyah/Israel summer trips) - what is the diaspora potentially without the place we left?
- Tay sachs/genetic testing - do people take this seriously?
- The "shul with a pool" thing - with less and less people doing the religion thing, what does the culture thing mean?
- are Jews really hip? Is the Jewish hipster thing coming to the UK?
- is there a Jewish conspiracy
- can the community create an inclusive non-judgemental space for everyone who walks through the door, or will we always be judging people's hats and kippot and haircuts
- how does a community retain its independence - difference - while playing a part in the broader society
- interfaith stuff
- regional communities and how they survive as they shrink
- does the internet in some way remove the need for community?
- is there really a resurgence in Jewish learning?
... the list goes on and on. These are first thoughts, sure. But it seems to me there are people who live and breathe this stuff, and they're not all writing for the JC. Yet.
Paris is sounding scary this week. Hello N, how are you?
I had a quick coffee with a former work colleague during the week - it was really lovely to catch up, we both had reason to be in the British Library - and we hadn't seen each other for a few years.
We'd both been doing interesting stuff in the intervening time (her slightly more than me, I have to admit), but she told me something that I've not been able to stop thinking about.
I met a woman in my first job who had been promoted, and showed me the ropes for the first few days. We stayed vaguely in touch; we both worked for a variety of media companies and it's a small world blah blah blah. She was a nice person.
A few years back, maybe two, she's top brass at a media plc, and I did a piece of competitor analysis for her, it was nice to be in touch, and she told me she'd got married the previous year. I remember what she said in her email, "it was the most rewarding day of my life" and I remember feeling happy for her; not everyone finds love, especially if they work 20 hours a day, and she seemed happy and settled and I congratulated her.
So this week, my friend told me that this woman had lost her husband - I'm guessing he was in his late thirites - and I was just shocked. She didn't know any details, although my desire to know details, have an explanation, was as much for me to make sense of the world as anything else, but I've not been able to stop thinking about it.
I've not been in touch with her for a while, so I think it would be weird for me to write and say "hear your husband died" but I feel like I want to acknowledge it in some way. This morning, while I was brushing my teeth, the thought of her loss came into my mind and I was momentarily... breathless. Tearful, almost.
The world can sometimes seem terribly unfair.
Of course, it swings both ways. My former colleague also told me that my first boss, who must now be pushing fifty, and was a nice, incredibly green fingered woman, but slightly spinsterish, had met a bloke in a bar, found love and moved to Berlin.
This woman - who always had slightly unfortunate initials on internal documents, STD - I remember as being quite bitter about men, and filled her time growing spider plants in our office (the oxygen was good for us), doing charity work, renovating her house and holidaying in exotic places. Not that any of these things are bad things.
And now she's all loved up in Eur-ope (imagine Woody Allen voice, please), which can only be a good thing.
So, one good, one not so good. Do they balance each other out?
We'd both been doing interesting stuff in the intervening time (her slightly more than me, I have to admit), but she told me something that I've not been able to stop thinking about.
I met a woman in my first job who had been promoted, and showed me the ropes for the first few days. We stayed vaguely in touch; we both worked for a variety of media companies and it's a small world blah blah blah. She was a nice person.
A few years back, maybe two, she's top brass at a media plc, and I did a piece of competitor analysis for her, it was nice to be in touch, and she told me she'd got married the previous year. I remember what she said in her email, "it was the most rewarding day of my life" and I remember feeling happy for her; not everyone finds love, especially if they work 20 hours a day, and she seemed happy and settled and I congratulated her.
So this week, my friend told me that this woman had lost her husband - I'm guessing he was in his late thirites - and I was just shocked. She didn't know any details, although my desire to know details, have an explanation, was as much for me to make sense of the world as anything else, but I've not been able to stop thinking about it.
I've not been in touch with her for a while, so I think it would be weird for me to write and say "hear your husband died" but I feel like I want to acknowledge it in some way. This morning, while I was brushing my teeth, the thought of her loss came into my mind and I was momentarily... breathless. Tearful, almost.
The world can sometimes seem terribly unfair.
Of course, it swings both ways. My former colleague also told me that my first boss, who must now be pushing fifty, and was a nice, incredibly green fingered woman, but slightly spinsterish, had met a bloke in a bar, found love and moved to Berlin.
This woman - who always had slightly unfortunate initials on internal documents, STD - I remember as being quite bitter about men, and filled her time growing spider plants in our office (the oxygen was good for us), doing charity work, renovating her house and holidaying in exotic places. Not that any of these things are bad things.
And now she's all loved up in Eur-ope (imagine Woody Allen voice, please), which can only be a good thing.
So, one good, one not so good. Do they balance each other out?
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
I wish it to be known that the wifi at the British Library sucks.
Badly.
So a month or so ago I signed up for £35/month pass, which was expensive but good. Except that after the first logon, it never worked again, and I wasted ages getting in touch with Building Zones trying to get it fixed. I paid a squillion pence to a stupid 0870 number who were unhelpful. But s-l-o-w-l-y.
In the end, I cancelled the £35/month thing, because I was paying for something I couldn't use. But now I'm back at the library this morning, and need to sign up to something else...
So I call the British Library switchboard - carefully avoiding their 0870 ruse) and talk to a woman who says she'll look on the internet for me. To tell me what wifi providers they support. Like I didn't already look. I tell I already looked and she says she might see something I didn't see. She sees an email address. Great. And do I want to give them feedback? No, I say, I just want something that works without wasting my time.
So now, I've signed up for SkypeZones on the vague recollection that they're also in the British Library, as I can't bear doing the whole other crappy thing again.
It seems like being a consumer is really hard work, nowadays. I just want somethng to work.
I am politer in real life. Honestly.
Badly.
So a month or so ago I signed up for £35/month pass, which was expensive but good. Except that after the first logon, it never worked again, and I wasted ages getting in touch with Building Zones trying to get it fixed. I paid a squillion pence to a stupid 0870 number who were unhelpful. But s-l-o-w-l-y.
In the end, I cancelled the £35/month thing, because I was paying for something I couldn't use. But now I'm back at the library this morning, and need to sign up to something else...
So I call the British Library switchboard - carefully avoiding their 0870 ruse) and talk to a woman who says she'll look on the internet for me. To tell me what wifi providers they support. Like I didn't already look. I tell I already looked and she says she might see something I didn't see. She sees an email address. Great. And do I want to give them feedback? No, I say, I just want something that works without wasting my time.
So now, I've signed up for SkypeZones on the vague recollection that they're also in the British Library, as I can't bear doing the whole other crappy thing again.
It seems like being a consumer is really hard work, nowadays. I just want somethng to work.
I am politer in real life. Honestly.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Image(1254)
A slef-portrait, including my favourite colour (purple). Taken somewhere in EC2 on the way to the most ridiculous meeting that I will write about one day. The guy kept me waiting for 45 minutes, didn't have a meeting room so we had to lean against his desk, he said "it's like a sweat shop in here" as we walked past the dozens of "worker bees" (which did not exactly endear him to me) and it turned out they wanted me to do the impossible in an outrageously short timeframe.
Also, there office was in a scary alleyway, so you'd hate to work there.
As I left he leaned down and said to me "is there any way we could persuade you to take on this project?" And I said no. Firmly.
Also, there office was in a scary alleyway, so you'd hate to work there.
As I left he leaned down and said to me "is there any way we could persuade you to take on this project?" And I said no. Firmly.
Oh, I hate it when people don't get things right.
So I'm doing a piece of research, and signing up for a bunch of websites to see how the sector works and get some data. I sign up for an information site, with the phone number 020 7000 9999 (or whatever) and it comes back and says it's not a valid phone number.
So I enter 0207 000 9999 and it accepts me. Which is wrong. All London numbers start 020 and then are some are 7XXX and some are 8XXX. They're just wrong.
Gah.
Also, of course, sometimes I make mistakes. Must be more forgiving.
So I'm doing a piece of research, and signing up for a bunch of websites to see how the sector works and get some data. I sign up for an information site, with the phone number 020 7000 9999 (or whatever) and it comes back and says it's not a valid phone number.
So I enter 0207 000 9999 and it accepts me. Which is wrong. All London numbers start 020 and then are some are 7XXX and some are 8XXX. They're just wrong.
Gah.
Also, of course, sometimes I make mistakes. Must be more forgiving.
I was gutted I couldn't make Saturday night's east end PunkPurim extravaganza - and here it is written up in the the Guardian - Jewish hipsters and sacred cows.
It was in my diary, and my peops were going and everything, but I had a sudden incidence of scary back pain, and I knew that standing in a heaving bar with three hundred of my closest unzerer (bad use of yiddish?) would not best please my delicate L4/L5 back issue. So I took some valium (as a muscle relaxant, you understand, which on top of the afternoon's B52s had me delirious as a bubble gum house) and ended up with something of a boudoir soiree with R and D. With chocolate.
The people I know who went have given it variously great and not-so-great reviews (but then that's the Jewish disease, to some degree) but frankly something that's (a) not in North London, (b) doesn't have a ticket price, (c) is a radical mishmash of weird stuff and (d) isn't organised by an existing Jewish body and (e) isn't obsessed with the numbers game is already making it, in my book.
So well done to Joseph (sorry I didn't reply to your email) and the crew, and I can't wait - back permitting - till the next one.
It was in my diary, and my peops were going and everything, but I had a sudden incidence of scary back pain, and I knew that standing in a heaving bar with three hundred of my closest unzerer (bad use of yiddish?) would not best please my delicate L4/L5 back issue. So I took some valium (as a muscle relaxant, you understand, which on top of the afternoon's B52s had me delirious as a bubble gum house) and ended up with something of a boudoir soiree with R and D. With chocolate.
The people I know who went have given it variously great and not-so-great reviews (but then that's the Jewish disease, to some degree) but frankly something that's (a) not in North London, (b) doesn't have a ticket price, (c) is a radical mishmash of weird stuff and (d) isn't organised by an existing Jewish body and (e) isn't obsessed with the numbers game is already making it, in my book.
So well done to Joseph (sorry I didn't reply to your email) and the crew, and I can't wait - back permitting - till the next one.
A mega cyclone batters the Australian Queensland coast and devestates 90% of the banana crop.
Is the world getting scarier? Are bananas about to get more expensive?
Is the world getting scarier? Are bananas about to get more expensive?
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Also, I recently learned a great little life hack to get good tickets at the National, but I'm sworn to secrecy. Sorry.
I had some fun and games in Debenhams recently. Particuarly taken with their Black 'half moon' long sleeve jersey dress by Betty Jackson.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Talk about a mashup - Gawker Stalker. Coming soon, to a town near you...
Have you heard of the Pink Ladies? It's a women only cab service.
Dave Gorman in this morning's Guardian on Flickr.
And Dave, it's flicker, not flick-are. Just so you know.
And Dave, it's flicker, not flick-are. Just so you know.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Extremely speedy note to say I've heard the megillah (loud), I've seen three Power Rangers and a Scooby Doo (it's kinda a fancy dress festival for kids), I've plaited my niece's hair and decorated with two bobbles and five clips, I have made mishloach manot with my nephew, including his discovery of my latent ability to do bubble writing (too much graffiti on my chemistry book in the eighties, methinks), and now I'm off to work.
Manchester is so much more fabulous than I remember it - a buzz, loadsa building... being called by my car service (sister).
Manchester is so much more fabulous than I remember it - a buzz, loadsa building... being called by my car service (sister).
Monday, March 13, 2006
Saturday night's (second) party was kinda like everyone I've ever met in my life all in a house in Cricklewood. Sorry, I mean Cricklehamsptead.
People I'd not seen for years, together with those I see every week, all dancing and eating and drinking and chilling out.
A and her terrible husband P - he made me say that, it's bizarrely the only way he'll meet me for coffee, if he gets mentioned on my blog, apparrently - I hadn't seen in years, and it was lovely to catch up, talk interior decor, property prices and failed friendships. Not that we have any, you understand.
There's something very wonderful about people you've known for a long time, even if you haven't seen them in a long time. Like some friendships are .. robust. Others, I guess not.
People I'd not seen for years, together with those I see every week, all dancing and eating and drinking and chilling out.
A and her terrible husband P - he made me say that, it's bizarrely the only way he'll meet me for coffee, if he gets mentioned on my blog, apparrently - I hadn't seen in years, and it was lovely to catch up, talk interior decor, property prices and failed friendships. Not that we have any, you understand.
There's something very wonderful about people you've known for a long time, even if you haven't seen them in a long time. Like some friendships are .. robust. Others, I guess not.
Tonight is Purim: The Festival of Lots - a minor but fun festival.
Some random thoughts:
Some random thoughts:
- It's basically a kids' festival - lots of dressing up and noise. When I knocked-on (how Manchester) at some friends yesterday afternoon, their three kids were going wild making their fancy dress costumes
- there are three basic mitzvot (good deeds/things you should do) - hear the megilla (the story), send mishlo'ach manot (shalach monuss in yiddish), which are small gifts of two kinds of prepared and unprepared food, and matanot l'evyonim, gifts to the poor, aka charity (there are more, and I'm sure someone will comment about Purim se-udot (festive meals) and the like, but I'm just giving you a taste)
- like all/most Jewish festivals, it's based on the premise "they tried to kill us (Haman), we won (Mordechai), let's eat (Hamantashen)
- traditional food is hamantashen, triangular shaped pastries in the shape of Haman's ears. I have not made any this year, although I used to make fabulous ones with my mum
- some people get a bit competitive about shalach manot - I made four small parcels in little baskets I bought in Golders Green with my sister. I'm not very good with large gifts, and I don't really like to be showy
- When I lived in Singapore, which has a large secular Israeli community who all seem to do something secret for the government they can't tell you, they all came out on Purim, Simchat Torah and Chanukah - they're kinda like the secular high holidays because they're fun (rather than Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Pesach, which are harder work and less fun)
What a weekend. Met many cool newmedia-ish and comix-style people, went to a houseparty that had an Israeli security guard and a chill-out room with Howard Jacobson hiding in the corner (OK, not hiding), a brief book-launch (stylish and vegetarian, quite a combination), a house-viewing (not my own, I offer this service, with valuation, for house-hunting friends, and it turned out I knew the next-door neighbours, so I did a possible-neighbour-shidduch), 3X starbuxim (though strictly camomile tea, I need to go easy on the coffee - it's the third space that does it for me, I realise, not the sugar hit).
Now, off to Manchester - work and Purim. Some combination.
Now, off to Manchester - work and Purim. Some combination.
Recent theatre:
- Resurrection Blues - the Robert Altman production of
Arnold Wesker'sArthur Miller's last play, at the Old Vic - basically, a Jewish guy not getting the whole Jesus thing, but Robert Altman's vision was a little disappointing, and the Ikea-stylee set a little amdram, frankly. - The Complicite production of Measure for Measure at the National, which was visually appealing, and truly brought the play to life. Kinda reminded me of a production of Merry Wives that I saw in Stratford when I was at school/college (can't remember) with my family, which was in 1950s dress, and I still remember. When someone brings Shakespeare to life, it's truly amazing.
Friday, March 10, 2006
There is something ironic yet fitting about me being the number one google search for ghastly upvc glazing - remember?
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Linky-linky love...
- Double tragedy of Stockwell shooting .. Panorama on Wednesday night on Jean Charles de Menezes and Operation Kratos. Fascinating insight into how our goverment decides things, and interesting parallels with how Israel deals with suicide bombers.
- I was sacked for being gay, banker tells tribunal .. Homophobia in the city to the tune of £5m - one to watch.
- Britain turns off - and logs on .. Do you spend 164 minutes a day online? That's the UK average, apparently. Who do you think they were interviewing?
- NHS chief quits amid worsening cash crisis An £800m NHS deficit? That's so much money, I can't actually understand how much it is.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Is it me, or is Bad Lads Army in desperate need of an apostrophe?
Hope it's not overly Lynne Truss to point this out, but sometimes, you know, it just...
Hope it's not overly Lynne Truss to point this out, but sometimes, you know, it just...
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
My brain is just one big link farm. Here ya go...
- Stalkr is go... on Flickr .. Suspect this guy had a few friendly words from Yahoo; now rebranded as friendfinder. I kinda liked Stalkr.
- Blogs to Riches - The Haves and Have-Nots of the Blogging Boom .. Interesting piece about who's cool and who's not in the A-list blogosphere.
- Bloggers in Amsterdam: DISCLOSURE .. Apparently, blogads.com took a bunch of (largely US) bloggers to Amsterdam for the weekend for no reason. How nice.
- Suppliers, Gourmet Heritage Potatoes, Northumberland, UK .. The wonder of the internet means you can buy heritage (ie obscure types that hardly grown any more) potatoes.
- British Jews 350 .. This year is the 350th anniversary of vibrant Jewish life in the UK. Although what no-one's saying is that the sefardim (eastern/spanish/portugese) Jews got here first, and the ashkenazi (polish/lithuanian/russion etc) majority didn't arrive till the 1880.
- 50 things for winter 2006 .. Fifty things we should all do this winter.
Camden Council doorstep recycling now collect cardboard and plastic bottles. Yay. From next wednesday. It's taken me two years to get the Monday morning recycling into my head, but it's a small price to pay for saving the planet.
So I'm going out of town on a business trip, just booked the ticket on thetrainline, which I've used for years, despite its usability flaws.
And, get this? I book my ticket, check all the boxes, put in my credit card... and then, after the transaction has been sucessful, it informs me that I have paid (past tense) a £1.50 credit card fee.
So I go on saynoto0870, because I don't want to spend another £1.50 finding out why, but the 0207 landline number is just an answerphone, so because I'm a sucker I call the 0870 number, and spend six minutes (60p? the tarrif is well hidden on the telewest phone site) to find out that I can write and complain. No one can tell me why they've started doing this or why they didn't inform me. Then a supervisor in India gets on the line and says it is on the website, and I say it isn't, or if it is, it's really small, and then I think, bugger this, and hangup.
So now I'm £2.10 down and pissed off. Transparent, opensource, they're not.
And the trains don't even run on time.
And, get this? I book my ticket, check all the boxes, put in my credit card... and then, after the transaction has been sucessful, it informs me that I have paid (past tense) a £1.50 credit card fee.
So I go on saynoto0870, because I don't want to spend another £1.50 finding out why, but the 0207 landline number is just an answerphone, so because I'm a sucker I call the 0870 number, and spend six minutes (60p? the tarrif is well hidden on the telewest phone site) to find out that I can write and complain. No one can tell me why they've started doing this or why they didn't inform me. Then a supervisor in India gets on the line and says it is on the website, and I say it isn't, or if it is, it's really small, and then I think, bugger this, and hangup.
So now I'm £2.10 down and pissed off. Transparent, opensource, they're not.
And the trains don't even run on time.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
no5 floor
Did I mention that I went to lunch at No5 (Cavendish Square, behind John Lewis) recently, and was seated on a table between Simon le Bon and his wife(let?) and Nicola Horlick and a rather attractive man.
They, of course, recognised neither me nor my lunch companion, glamourous as we were.
They, of course, recognised neither me nor my lunch companion, glamourous as we were.
So the first water meters are to be forced on households due to a water scarcity status ruling.
About time. I've had a water meter for coming up to a year, and not only does it make me consider my usage, but my bills have gone down.
And there's a bunch of other water-saving things you can do.
About time. I've had a water meter for coming up to a year, and not only does it make me consider my usage, but my bills have gone down.
And there's a bunch of other water-saving things you can do.
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