Way back in June, just before I went to Florida, my road tax came up for renewal. And so did my car insurance and MOT. Actually, that’s not quite true: the tax disc was due to expire while we were away, and because of the general stress/excitement involved in going on vacation, not to mention all of the other car-related expenses going on at the time, I became absolutely convinced that I would forget to renew it, and when I got home the police would be waiting for me at the airport or something. Because clearly I have no idea how these things work AT ALL.
Anyway, I was so sure that Bad Things were going to happen involving this tax disc that I ordered and paid for it online the very second the renewal notice came in the mail, then I sat back and congratulated myself on being so freaking organised.
A couple of days later, the new tax disc arrived, but – and here’s the kicker – rather than sticking it on the inside of my windscreen, as required by law, it’s looking increasingly likely that I just stuck it INSIDE THE BIN instead. Or, you know, somewhere.
Then I went on holiday, in blissful ignorance of the fact that my careful planning had all been for nothing, and my car was now sitting in the driveway displaying an out of date tax disc.
Then I came home and proceeded to drive the car here, there and everywhere (well, to the gym and the mall), STILL without the tax disc. Terry drove his mum to the airport in said car-with-no-valid-tax-disc. Then, four weeks later? He drove her back. And still the tax disc was out of date.
Today, though, while out in the driveway, Terry finally noticed the fact that my car was sitting there being ILLEGAL. So he told me about it and I, of course, proceeded to freak the hell out. A fingertip search of the house was undertaken, but I knew that it was in vain, and I knew this because it’s only been a few weeks since the LAST search of the house, and I’d like to think that if the missing tax disc had turned up while I was searching for the green dress, I’d have noticed it. I mean, I’d LIKE to think that, but last time I checked I was still Amber, and you really never know with me, do you?
In the end I called my bank and was all, “Oh, hai, do you by any chance know if I paid my road tax in June?” Luckily my bank are used to such questions from me, and they confirmed that yes, I had, in fact paid for the new disc, so I am not being quite as illegal as I thought I was. It’ll now apparently cost me £7 to get a replacement disc though, and meanwhile I am sure – SURE – that wherever it is, it is probably with the green dress and missing top.
WHAT WILL BE NEXT?
Tagged car wars, things I lost
Yesterday I was working away at my desk when I happened to look round to find that OMG, there had been a MURDUR! </ Taggart>
This photo doesn’t really do the scene justice, because there was stuffing EVERYWHERE. Whoever the victim was, it was clear they had been, not just killed, but also skillfully disemboweled. Closer inspection, however, revealed not just one, but TWO possible victims:
On the right of the picture: Bluddy. So called because he is a BLUE version of BUDDY. This unfortunate creature is “Buddy”:
As you can see, Buddy hasn’t been well for quite some time. My mum performed pioneering surgery to sew his face back on after the, er, event that led to its removal, but ol’ Buddy, he just hasn’t been the same since. Sometimes he can’t even remember who he is, the poor guy. We keep him around now for purely sentimental reasons: he was Rubin’s first toy, and actually, we’ve had Buddy longer than we’ve had Rubin, because as soon as Terry and I knew we were definitely getting a dog, we rushed out and bought Buddy for him. When we brought the young Rubinman home, Buddy was bigger than him. Then a year later? Buddy was dead. Shame.
Anyway, back to our crime scene, and as I’m sure your keen minds have deduced, our victim was not, in fact, “Bluddy”, but …
Yes, it’s the DUCK! Who is simply known as, er, “Rubin’s Duck”. Or who WAS known as “Rubin’s Duck”, past tense. I don’t think that duck will ever “quack” again, somehow, which is a shame, because it does actually “quack” when Rubin presses it with his nose. DID actually quack.
Of course, we didn’t have to look far to find the alleged perp: he was standing right there at the scene of the crime, looking strangely pleased with himself:
He’s all “Yeah, I did it. SO? I’d do it again…” And he would. For now, though, his work here was done:
Still looking inappropriately smug, considering he just disemboweled one of his best friends. That’s the closest we can get him to sit to that dustpan and brush, by the way. Not that I want to spoil anyone’s illusions of how Rubin is a WOLF or anything, but he is TERRIFIED of that thing. Any closer and he will totally lose his mind. I think it must come to life at night and attack him or something.
This concludes our investigation into the Sad Case of Rubin’s Duck. Don’t have nightmares, folks…
Tagged rubin
Wow, see how easy it is to get out of the habit of blogging when there’s nothing at all happening?
Lately life has entered one of those weird “frantically-busy-but-also-mind-numbingly-boring” phases. In fact, I don’t think I’ve left the house in the past couple of weeks other than to visit the parents/walk the dog/go to the gym. THAT’S how dull it’s been.
Oh, and I started going running. Like, running outside, as opposed to on the treadmill. Because I figured that the coming winter was JUST THE TIME to start a hobby that involves being out of doors all the time. D’oh! I thought it would be fun, though: I had this image of myself, a lonely yet dignified figure, battling bravely through rain, hail and snow to pound those pavements, and saying things like, “I’m just addicted to exercise!” and “It totally clears my mind and gives me, like, space to be ME, you know?”
Of course, I was obviously on crack when I thought these things because I am forced to run through Bandit Country. Well, not “forced” exactly. I mean, no one has actually held a gun to my head and said “Run through Bandit Country, wench! Run like the wind!” Or not yet, anyway. The aforementioned all work/no play scenario means that I just don’t have time to drive somewhere nice to run, though, so Bandit Country it is. And it’s … an experience. I dunno, maybe it’s the same no matter where you run, but people here actually stop and stare as you go by, with their mouths open in astonishment. Yesterday I ran past a group of women with their kids, and they all actually stopped their conversation so they could turn round and watch me. And trust me, I was moving so slowly I was almost going backwards, so they weren’t open mouthed with awe.
Still, at least I’ll be able to run away now if someone tries to attack me with a branch again!
Anyway, I’m going to try and keep at it for… well, a while at least. Maybe until next week, because by then we’ll be deeply into winter here, and I won’t want to leave the house at all. Ever. Terry, meanwhile, is currently in training for a 10k AND a triathlon. Because that’s what kind of crazy HE is. He did ask me to join him in running the 10k, but it cost £16 (Why, I could buy another green dress for that kinda cash!) and you’re not allowed to listen to music while you run. Oh, and it would kill me. Maybe next year lifetime.
A few weeks ago, I was talking to my dad, and my dad said something that really struck a chord with me. It was this:
“Don’t hesitate to buy shoes,” said my dad. “Buy all of them. Especially those ones with the red soles.”
OK, so I’m paraphrasing here. I think he might ACTUALLY have said something about seizing the day, living life to the full, not putting off until tomorrow what you can do today, and all that. And I think the “not putting stuff off” bit might have been in reference to all of the STUFF belonging to me that’s still in my parents attic and my old bedroom.
But I chose to interpret it as “buy shoes”.**
It was my dad’s fault.
Am I grounded?
*Possibly not
** ON SALE, though! SALE.
Tagged christian louboutin, shoes
Well, the replacement green dress arrived on Saturday morning (I waited all morning for the mail, so obviously it arrived the very second I switched on the shower. I wish I’d thought to do that earlier…) and I can report that All Is Well. Thankfully, this now concludes the period of my life where I spent an entire month writing about the same freaking dress, over and over again, GOD.
Slightly against my better judgement, but because some of you asked to see it, I now present what’s likely to be The Biggest Anti-Climax in the History of this Blog Ever:
Yes, it’s THAT dress. And actually? That’s not even the replacement dress. I was too lazy to take a photo of it, so this is actually a photo of the original, may it rest it peace. Wherever it is. (WHERE IS IT?!) I’m happy to have tracked down one just like it (only new! With tags!), but even so, I don’t think I will ever wear it now. That would just be ASKING for trouble…
Tagged lost dress
Well, it’s been one of those weeks, folks: husband sick (it’s those “daggers” again, unfortunately), new green dress still “in the post”, someone trying to impersonate me on the internet. You know, the usual.
Oh, the Crazy Internet Impostor thing? Yeah, that was… weird. I mean, OMG, drama on teh internets! Who’da thunk it? Because the internet is normally such a sane place! Or, if not “sane” exactly, at least there’s normally only one of me on it, which I think we can probably all agree is a Good Thing.
For a brief time this week, though, there were two of me. There was the REAL me, and then there was Imposter Amber: a girl – or possibly a boy, who knows? – pretending to be me. I found out about Impostor Amber yesterday morning, when I woke up to find an email in my inbox from a member of a Sonic Youth forum (I know, random!), who was writing to let me know that, well, there were now two of me in the world, in that one of the members of this forum had been posting my photo on a “Show us your face” thread, and claiming it was her. Or that she was me.
And sure enough, so she was:
And not only pretending that she was me, but pointing out that it is a “bad picture”! With zits!
(She later deleted all of her posts, but not before I took screenshots. Shame.)
Of course, I immediately assumed that this girl was one of my haters (Hi, Amy!), but as I read on, I realised that the thread she’d posted it on was one of those “post a photo of yourself” ones, and she actually wanted people to think it was a picture of her. So I think the whole “bad photo, sad face” thing was probably just a transparent attempt to get people to say nice things about her – I mean me – and of course, some people did. (To which she was all, “Aww, thanks, guys! I guess I just have low self-steem!” LOL!) And, inevitably, some other people … well, it’s the internet, you can probably guess how that one panned out. Just your average “group of teenage boys picking apart a woman’s appearance anonymously” kinda thing, really.
Luckily for me, I’m fairly used to being talked about as if I’m not a human being with, you know, actual feelings, and I’m pretty flattered that someone decided they wanted to pretend to be me (even if that person did turn out to be totally crazy), but even so: isn’t that just the funniest/saddest thing you’ve heard all week? Oh, and when someone called her on her idiocy, Impostor Amber claimed that it was all a “social experiment” and whined about how no one appreciated her “art”. Hee! I couldn’t make this up!
Still, another day, another drama, as Britney says. And here was me thinking only Elvis and Jacko got to have impersonators!
(Oh, and for anyone who’s interested, the Impostor Amber’s justification for pretending to be me is under the jump.)
Continue reading →
Tagged impostor amber, OMG internet drama!, people who steal my photos, trolls
Remember my beloved green dress? The one that was tragically and mysteriously LOST?
Well, it’s still lost.
Sorry, I just realised that the start of this post probably made you think I was about to tell you I found it under the living room rug or something, and oh, how I wish that were true! (Note to self: check under living room rug.) But nope, no such luck. The green dress is still as lost as ever it was: probably even more so, to be honest, given the time that’s now passed since it was last seen.
BUT! BUT!
I have bought a new one! Yes, a NEW GREEN DRESS! That is exactly the same as the OLD green dress in every respect, other than that it is new (with tags, no less!) and, well, NOT LOST. Well, not yet, anyway.
I found the dress last night, on eBay. You see, ever since that terrible day on which I was forced to admit to myself that I would, in all likelihood, never see the original dress again, I have embarked upon a strict regime of searching eBay almost non-stop for one just like it, using multiple different search terms, and calling upon reserves of patience which, to be totally frank, I had NO IDEA I even possessed. There have been days when I’ve forgotten to feed and clothe myself, but BY GOD, I’ve never forgotten to search eBay for THAT DRESS.
And then, last night, I found it. I don’t think that sentence really sums up my shock and excitement at this fact, so let’s see….
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There, that should do it.
Of course, because my non-stop searching meant that I was alerted to the presence of The Dress almost as soon as it was listed, the auction still had a full week to run when I found it. And there was no way on earth I could sit it out for a whole week – I mean, quite apart from anything else, I have to sleep SOME time, you know? – so I emailed the seller and asked her if she’d add a Buy It Now. And then I sat and pressed Send/Receive on my email until she finally replied, several hours later, agreeing to sell it to me. If only I could apply this degree of dedication to OTHER areas of my life!
So, yes, new green dress, same as the old green dress. Brand new. With tags. In my size, and everything. Which kinda makes my whole “I will never, ever find another one like it! Wah!” thing seem a bit silly now, no? And, of course, it will not make me feel any better about What Happened That Night. (WHAT DID HAPPEN THAT NIGHT? It’s driving me insane!), and I will always wonder what happened to my original dress. And top. But at least I will have a new one now. And if the old one ever DOES turn up, then I’ll have TWO of them.
Mind you, I won’t be totally easy in my mind about any of this until the dress is safely in my hands. (I say “safely” – I don’t think ANYTHING is really “safe” in my hands at the moment, especially given recent events) I mean, what do you think the odds are of this latest dress being lost in the mail? Or suffering the same, mysterious fate as the last one?
I’ll keep you posted. Because clearly there is NO LIMIT to the amount of posts I can write about this freaking green dress. GOD.
[Special disclaimer for all of the people who like to take every word I write super-seriously (hi!): Emotions in this post may have been exaggerated for dramatic effect. May not have been, though.]
Tagged lost dress, things I lost
This week we’ve had a new visitor here in The Shrieking Shack (if you’ve ever had birds, you’ll know exactly why I call it that): everyone say hi to Cheeky!
In this picture I am willing him NOT to poop on my shoulder later. Clearly my mad bird-hypnotising skillz failed me on this occasion, though, because right after this photo was taken… he pooped on my shoulder. Ah, well, you win some, you lose some.
Cheeky belongs to my sister-in-law, Lila, who is currently off on her holidays, and his presence brought our total bird-inhabitant total up to two, because I forgot to mention that Pepe the Parrot has also been with us for the past four weeks:
 That one time when Pepe escaped Pepe is the chief shrieker in our house. Here is the sound that Pepe makes, although I have no idea if this will work:
Pepe screaming like a banshee
He went home on Wednesday, so now we’re back to just the one feathered friend. Unlike Pepe, though, whose entire existence is focused around the act of HATING EVERYONE with a fiery HATE, Cheeky is a friendly little chap, who will come and perch on your shoulder, before pooping on it. His shrieks are also much quieter: in fact, I have christened him “Craig David”, because like the celebrated songster, Cheeky mostly likes to repeat his own name every few seconds. So we get, “Cheeky! Cheeky, Cheeky! Budgie!” interspersed with some long monologues spoken in a man’s voice, which can be really quite freaky the first time you hear it. And also the second.
Cheeky is also very much in love with Terry:
Terry just happened to be resting his hands on the desk like that, and Cheeky flew over to perch on them. I swear, it’s just like living inside a Disney movie ALL THE TIME. If we could just teach him to clean the house for us, while whistling a happy song, that would be great!
Cheeky goes home tomorrow, though, so the Disney-ness will end, and it’ll be just us and Rubin again. I think Rubin will be happy about this. We, on the other hand, will quite miss the little guy…
Tagged cheeky, pepe
It’s started again: the whole “let’s pretend Amber is running a shop!” thing, I mean. I’ve had a good few weeks WITHOUT being constantly asked about my “stock” and where I ship to, but this morning I woke up to this:
—–Original Message—–
From: Woman Who Thinks I Have a Shop
Sent: 05 August 2009 02:39
To: Magic Amber
Subject: guerlain kohl kajal eyeliner
Hi
I am wanting to purchase Guerlain Kohl Kajal Eyeliner online. Do you have it in stock?
Woman Who Thinks I Have A Shop (Australia)
And no, WWTIHAS. No, I don’t have it “in stock”, on account of how I AM NOT A SHOP. But still they contact me. Last week, I got this:
—–Original Message—–
From: Ponds Hand Cream Woman
Sent: 02 August 2009 20:04
To: Magic Amber
Cc: Magic Amber
Subject: ponds hand cream
i puchased some ponds hand creame and it was very watery..my address is [removed] [name removed]!
If I was American, I’m guessing the correct response to this would be a chirpy “Thanks for sharing!” But I’m not, so I just thought, “The HELL? That’s … fascinating… about the Ponds Hand Cream and all, but you know, why are you telling ME”? And why the address? What was she expecting me to do, turn up at her house to inspect the watery hand cream in person? And even if I DID sell Ponds Hand Cream(e) (Which, just to be clear, I DON’T), did she think I’d just send her a new one, on the strength of a one-line email? Sending complete strangers on the internet your address: not really such a great idea, no?
Also, note that this person was so keen to tell me about her watery hand cream that she put my email address in the CC box as well as the “to” box. Yes, the SAME email address. So I got two copies of this email, which, first thing in the morning, when I’d yet to have my coffee, convinced me there was some kind of watery hand cream epidemic going on, and that I was The Chosen One, who would have to fix it.
But no: it’s just yet another epidemic of people thinking I’m a shop. And there’s really nothing I can do about it.
Tagged email fun, I am not a shop, magic amber
Last week Amber’s Magic iPhone predicted that yesterday (Sunday) would be the only dry day we’d be getting for a long, long time: possibly the last one ever, for all I know. We knew we should probably try and make the most of this by doing something other than mowing the lawn and messing around on Twitter, so when my parents said they were planning a trip to Lindisfarne, in the north of England, Terry, Rubin and I decided we’d go along for the ride. We’re annoying like that.
First, though, we went to North Berwick, for a quick, Famous Five-style adventure, with old castles and rocky coves and smugglers and stuff:
Tantallon Castle, represent!
For Erin…
(You can totally imagine the smugglers, and the adventures, and the lashings and lashings of ginger beer this place must’ve seen over the years, no?)
This beach isn’t actually in North Berwick itself, but very close to it. It was on the way down to the sand that my family realised I was trying to kill them:
Buh-bye, dad!
Bye, Terry!
How we laughed.
After that, we went to Cove, but didn’t didn’t take any pictures, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. Then we headed across the border and down through Berwick-Upon-Tweed to Lindisfarne, a.k.a. The Holy Island. Lindisfarne is only an island when the tide’s in: when it’s out, the island can be accessed by car, via a causeway which was really quite spectacular to drive across: Terry described it as “otherworldly”, which pretty much sums it up. Makes you wonder why we didn’t bother to take any photos of that, either, eh?
We did, however, take some photos on the island itself. It’s called The Holy Island because there’s a lot of, um, holy stuff on it. Like this ruined priory, which is the burial place of St Cuthbert, apparently:
No, the land isn’t ACTUALLY at that angle. Just tilt your head and imagine it.
And this pretty church:
Best of all, though:
Ruined castle FTW!
Then we came home, stopping into North Berwick again to buy fish and chips, which we ate looking out over the sea. Fabulous. Since we got back, I’ve spent more or less all of my time searching for coastal properties in East Lothian which are within our price range. Conclusion: there are none. Which is a shame, because I really think if I could just buy a house by the sea, I’d be inspired to finish my novel, and would maybe even stop whining about the loss of the green dress for a few minutes. (Yes, it’s still lost. No, I’m not over it.) I’ll keep looking.
And that was how we spent what the MET office tells us may well be The Last Dry Day of the Summer. It was a good way to spend it, I think.
Rubin thought so too. And he didn’t suffer any ill-effects from his attempt to drink the ocean, either, so a good time was had by all!
Tagged lindisfarne, north berwick
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