Posts Tagged ‘friends


People have an annoying habit of referring to me in the plural form.

I first noticed a few months ago: I happened in the area where someone I know had opened an Italian restaurant some time previously, and I decided to drop by and say hi. I found him much changed. Not only he had taken to making sushi: he had also grown distinctly Asian features.

I wrote him an e-mail to inquire about this puzzling turn of events, from my own e-mail address, signing with my name only, with such formulations as: “*I*happened at your restaurant…*I* wanted to say hi…*I* was surprised to see that…” and he replied soon afterwards: “Dear friends, you (plural) are always so kind, thank you (plural) for your (plural) concern. I leased the place to a Korean cook) [mystery solved!], but I will be sure to  tell you (plural) immediately when I open a new place”. Huh?

Once alerted to the peculiar phenomenon, I realised that this happens all the time. People inviting *us* to events. Asking me how *we* are doing, how *we* spent the holidays, what plans *we* have for the upcoming weekend.

I am puzzled. Have I developed multiple personalities without realising? Is my guardian angel suddenly visible? Is that a covert way to imply that I am fat? Do I look like the Pope? Or am I really the Pope? Could I be the first atheist Pope in the history of the Church? What were the good old Cardinals thinking?

I have a sneaking suspicion that by referring to me in the plural form they actually mean me and my FBFF. Because they also apparently tell her stuff and assume that I will be informed. “But how come you do not know?? I did tell your FBFF!”

Well, breaking news! I am not her! She’s not me! I am not we! She is not us! We are not you! You are not him! Him who??

When they go all plural on me, or ask me to do things like relaying a message or giving her something, I politely tell them that I have no idea of what’s going on with her, and that they should contact her directly.

She seems to have chosen a completely different approach: when people ask her about me, she simply makes things up. That brings about interesting situations, like something that happened last Sunday: I had an ice cream with a common acquaintance, and when I left to go home he observed that I was going in the same direction as always. He found that very surprising. I found his very surprise very surprising. Huh?? He explained that my FBFF had told him I had moved flats, and I should have told him, he would have been soooo happy to help. I evilly replied that I haven’t moved, but that I want to and I am very grateful for his kind offer and will make sure to contact him when the time comes. He turned slightly green at that. I wonder why, perhaps the ice cream had disagreed with him?

Anyway, I would like to use this opportunity to launch an appeal to all my friends and frenemies, none of which know about this blog, so my appeal will wander aimlessly through cyberspace like a message in a bottle, and will be retrieved in fifty years or so by a young  and rather cute journalist who was actually looking for something about depressed kittens, and he will come to the very old me for an interview, and I will brew him a steaming cup of tea with actual crushed dried leaves, and he will find this very quaint and will ask me where you can still buy the leaves and not the usual concentrate or a powder, and I will tell him that I had grown it in my garden, and he will love that and start planning in his mind a series of articles about the way you used to do things in the good old times, and he will ask me how did I manage to grow tea in this climate, and I will reply “Oh, but this is not actual tea, my dear”, and cackle evilly and later dispose of his body in the tools shed.

But I digress. So here is my appeal: Dear grammar debauchers, there is a reason why most languages have evolved a singular and a plural form, and it’s a perfectly good one! And no, it wasn’t to provide teachers with a further torture instrument – although that might indeed be the case for irregular plurals. So, use wisely and correctly this wonderful option given to us by the Gods of Grammar!

Thank you very much. We have spoken.



Studies show that coffee helps alleviate depression, and that coffee brings about depression. Well, thank you very much, Scientists, this is helpful.

I have done some experiments myself, and I have found that drinking coffee too late in the afternoon will keep you awake at night and you will lay on your bed thinking of how you have nothing to look forward to for tomorrow, next week, or the rest of your life, which is admittedly a wee bit depressing.

On the other hand, drinking coffee in a nice café with a good friend is definitely a powerful lift-me-up. And yet I suspect that in the combination going out/good friend/coffee it is not the element “coffee” that really makes the difference.

I wanted to test this theory of mine, and resolved that next time I go to a nice coffee place with a good friend I will order an ugli fruit squash and see if it works as well as a steaming espresso; but although I think I can dig out a place that serves ugli fruit squash, apparently there’s no finding a good friend who would sit and drink with me, not even in the interest of science. Bummer.

One thing is certain though: coffee might act as an anti-depressant by providing you with a purpose in life, and that’s something.



I have officially become invisible.

I can still see myself, but I have grown invisible to others. I realised it when I tried to contact the Blasted Thing, one of the persons I most care about: some three weeks after the last time we had a brief coffee, I suggested via Skype we could have coffee again. I was met with stony silence. Not even a “Sorry, I don’t have time – Don’t call us, we’ll call you – I’d love to, but right now I am tied to a solitary rock on the slopes of Mount Doom and having my soles tickled by a disgruntled orc, so that would be inconvenient”. Nothing. Would it have made the universe implode, dropping a couple of lines?
So, not to be too hassling, I patiently waited for two more weeks, and then asked, “Speech is silver? 😉 “. Reply: nothing, nada, nichts, rien, niente.

Invisible. How cool is that? So what can I do with my new-found superpower? I know I am supposed to fight crime, but how boring, isn’t every single superhero doing that already? And I’m not very heroic in general, I am more the mischievous type. Plus, frankly, what would I look like, in one of those spandex superhero costumes? Oh, right, I forgot, I would look like nothing – and yet I think I would still manage to be embarrassed.

Anyway, first of all, bye bye, personal grooming, pretty clothes and make up and jewelry! No longer needed. I can eat all the chocolate I want and not care about that pesky zit on the tip of my nose!

Working will no longer be necessary, I guess. I could keep my job and I can think of quite a few new career opportunities, as a magician, entertainer, special effects specialist, or I could haunt castles and palaces and get paid by the touristic promoters, but I’m not sure handling with money is feasible at all, or anyway I will need much less.

I can go and live at Ikea, or just squat anywhere. Luxury hotel. Or big villa with a swimming pool. Might even manage to drive the owners out and get the place all for myself (note to self – get the keys BEFORE you go all poltergeist on them: you might be invisible, but that does not mean you can walk through walls).

For food I can walk into the very best restaurants and taste a bit of everything. I can also sneak into the kitchen and arrange the food on the plates in funny shapes and make the vegetables scream and plead for their life and totally freak the cook and waiters out.

I can go to the cinema, museums, and travel anywhere for free.

I can make my riderless bike the stuff of LEGENDS!

And then there will be the pranks. I will whisper into people’s ears. I will pull their hair. I will pretend I am their good conscience and scold them for all the meanness they dish out on a regular basis.

I will get to the computer of the BT, recall our chat and reply to myself , “Of course, I’d love to do coffee!” and see if this really makes the universe implode.



Not everybody is so lucky as to naturally develop depression; but there is hope for those unfortunate souls condemned to perpetual cheeriness, in shape of a videogame that allows them to virtually experience it!

It is meant to help friends and family understand what their loved one is going through, with the objective, presumably, of helping them overcome it.

So this is the link:

It starts with an uplifting quotation, Remember sadness is always temporary. This, too, shall pass, and you find yourself in a pretty, whimsical forest landscape; you move around, you make friends, and with their support you can climb the trees and reach happiness, which is a sunny sky over the treetops with leaves and daisies that inexplicably fall from above. OK, that’s puzzling, but I can live with it.

But happiness doesn’t last, and you go back to baseline mood (the forest). Alright, you can’t be ecstatic all the time, laughing too much gives you wrinkles after all. You go on with your usual life, you enjoy the arts, as the creators helpfully suggest, and spend time with your chirpy friends.

But then, the forest turns dark and creepy, your friends turn their backs on you, and you plunge into despair. With great effort, you do manage once to go back to baseline mood, but you finally fall to your death in a hellish deep dark hole, AND THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO AVOID IT. Would have been better to be put out of your misery right at the start, I guess.  Crushed by one of those giants daisies that shed flowers from the sky.

Fade to black, and for good measure you get mocked too, with another quote: Every man dies – not every man really lives.

Euh… Thank you???


It’s Sunday! Already? Wasn’t it Sunday, like, just a few days ago? Again, I have a long list of stuff I want to do; will I manage if not all at least the majority of the items??

  • Sort out a matter with my former BFF – this goes on top because it is going to be the hardest thing to do. But her response will probably be poisonous, so better to do it as late as possible? Otherwise I will end up like the knight in the pic and won’t accomplish ANYTHING. Or perhaps I SHOULD in fact do it first thing in the morning, so I, being a little pile of ash, won’t have to do any of the items that follow? EVER?
  • Wash hair – although I have done it last Sunday already! Is this something like brushing your teeth and being nice to your friends, something you just keep doing over and over again, with no discernible advantage? Ah no, wait, I am not meeting anyone until Tuesday afternoon, so that can wait and I can cross it off already. Yay me!
  • Wake up. DONE! (I’m doing good)
  • Write a blog post – not finished yet, but by the time I hit “publish” it will be finished, so I can consider it done.
  • Wash the dishes – cook something (I have INGREDIENTS!!!) – wash the dishes again (umpf)
  • Eat whatever I have cooked before it spoils – remember that if it does I will have to throw it out and it will be work anyway
  • Splatter my old bag with nail polish – probably one of the few things I will really accomplish
  • Clean the bathroom – as if
  • Exercise
  • Water the plants – the plants have all died long ago, so DONE!
  • Change the wallpaper of my blog – I have changed the slogan yesterday already. When I chose the name, I wanted it to sound a bit like a medicine, so for the wallpaper I want something with pills (keep it an explosion of colour though).
  • Draw a new avatar – I want to do something REALLY simple, just a line drawing, but the real challenges are: a. Find my drawing pen, b. Find a white piece of paper, and c. Free enough tabletop surface (that’s where I will finally give up)

So how many items will I manage? Bets are open.

More chicken depression!

I noticed with amazement after writing another post ( that the internet is teeming with people asking for advice on how to cure a depressed chicken.

It made me go all “awwwwwww”, until I got to think on why are people so caring and understanding towards chickens, whereas in my experience they rapidly get fed up and leave when confronted with a depressed human? What does a chicken have that I, for example, haven’t? It’s not like it can fly, which is admittedly a very cool skill to have.
Then I had an epiphany:

Eggs. Eggs are key. I would have gotten all the support I needed if every morning I had laid a nice deep orange-yolked egg.

[Hyperbole and a Half]

I had great plans for this Sunday: work (lots), exercise, clean at least the kitchen, draw a profile picture for the blog, make myself clean and presentable for the coming week (wanted to wash hair and do nails and perhaps even a facial? – will have to content myself with just hair), write a post here, reply to the people who have answered a long and complicated question of mine in a forum (darn, they were so thoughtful and articulate, too), sort out the matter of why Twitter blocked my account, sort out the matter of a (former?) friend of mine – even worse, decide how to sort it out, but for that I would need a long bike ride, and a list of pro and cons, and I’m not sure how to handle that without ignominiously crashing on the pavement, so make it sort out the matter of how to handle at the same time a moving bicycle and a list of pro and cons – and I’m surely forgetting something, so add to that make a list of things to do, not the same as the list of pro and cons – perhaps write it on different coloured paper, so I don’t find myself on a riverside path with a bit of paper that reads “WASH THE DISHES!” . Plus the ordinary background activities, like breathing and pumping my heart.

I’ll never make it. I think I will just forgo the breathing and heart pumping things.

*** Update ***

I haven’t done any of that yet, BUT I’ve painted the house keys with nail polish.

*** Update to the update ***

I put glitter on them.

***  Update number 2 ***

And I washed a bed sheet. I remembered only when hanging it to dry that it was ripped and I wanted to throw it out. My one endeavour for the day, and all I have to show for it  is a clean rag. Sheet.

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