Gridlock, free dental care and wigs

We made the mistake of attempting to drive to London on a Friday evening.

As we were cruising through the sylvan splendour of the Wye Valley towards the Severn Bridge at Chepstow, heading for the M4 motorway towards London, we heard on the radio that there had been not one, but two crashes on the M4. The first would have caused a half hour delay. The second, involving a coach, had entirely blocked the London-bound side of the motorway at Reading.

As we plotted lengthy detours involving Swindon and Oxford, I took decisive action to preserve our sanity by aborting the trip and turned back to Monmouth. There was no particular reason that we had to be in London tonight, so we avoided the hassle. I bought a bottle of Romanian wine – surprisingly quaffable – and tempers have been soothed.

K and I got cards from the NHS today entitling us to free dental care, prescriptions and wigs because we are claiming Child Tax Credits. On Monday I’m going straight to the doctor to demand Viagra and a brunette mullet toupee, while K is having her teeth fixed up on your taxes.

Ups and Downs

(Preamble to this post: for those of you not aware, I have been job hunting.)

The bad news first:

I didn’t get a job I didn’t really want. Yes, you read that correctly. So maybe that wasn’t bad news after all. I think.

Apparently I was too “senior” for the role. But does that mean to old or too experienced? I’m not sure which is the more flattering.

The better news:

I have officially acquired MCP status. No, not “male chauvinist pig” for all you 1970’s women’s libbers. It stands for Microsoft Certified Professional. Now, to be honest, the actual class of MCP that I got was a distinctly “junior” one: the MCDST, not the coveted (and difficult to acquire) MCSE. The latter will follow in time.

The international news:

Looks like half the population of Ukraine is going to riot after an (allegedly!) fiddled election.

The joke:

Bill Clinton takes his dog to the vet. The vet asks “Would you like him castrated?”, to which the dog replies “Yes, please.”

Beginnings

Thus begins my online journal, or blog, to those of you more au fait with online English. Now, I hate mission statements that don’t actually own up to what an organisation is really for. I mean, it’s just not true that a company simply wants “to be the best supplier of x product/service in y country”. They want to make lots of money for their stakeholders and, in doing so, provide a service.

Anyway, where was I?

Ah yes: mission statements. The aims of this particular blog are, in descending order of priority:

– to keep in touch with friends and family who I don’t see very often because they are far away
– to achieve a higher state of self awareness (not quite Nirvana, though) by keeping a journal
– to take the promise of the “democratisation of publishing” that the Net affords and speak my mind. If one or two people take note or are entertained/informed, that’s good enough to soothe my ego 😉
– to recommend sundry books/films/causes/websites/ideas etc., that I think deserve recommendation
– to practise creative writing.

This may be a moving target and will probably change weekly, so there. That’s enough. I’ll update as and when I can and have something worth writing. I don’t want to bore anyone.

Stay tuned!

Food, mostly.

ValerieTarico.com

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