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23 August 2006

Bright Lights, Big City

So, I'm down in London sorting out my old flat for rental, this time with a firm who'll do the lot, and not me getting stung providing "mates rates" to all and sundry. No more Mr Nice Guy.

Since I bought it in 2000, variously I've lived here alone, then for a long period with a very good girl friend (note separation of nouns), then with both she and long-term girlfriend (mine, not hers), then just me and girlfriend, then I move to Birmingham in late 2002 and girlfriend's mate (and ex-colleague of mine) moves in with her. Then we split up, and girlfriend moves out. Her mate (and my ex-colleague) stays for a bit. Jump over next girlfriend. New girlfriend and her flatmate from last shared house move in short term between locations. Flatmate moves on quickly, followed soon after by now ex-girlfriend. It's seen a lot of action, this flat.

I got the keys to it on my 26th birthday. That weekend, I had the mother of all house parties, where a number of friends DJed, alongside Mike from Hybrid. That impressed a lot of people (though not my neighbours), though I would never know anything about it. I'd been spiked by a "good friend", and spent most of my housewarming party hanging out the window yacking, wondering which way was up or down.

I came down here late on Sunday night, arriving just on midnight and being unloaded and settled by half-past. Reading that again, it sounds slightly crude: I am, of course, referring to the contents of the car.

Waking up bright and early on Monday, I leaped into action, getting all the unfinished jobs done, rearranging rooms, moving things in and out, hoovering, mopping. I am, admittedly, still to start on cleaning the oven. The kitchen now has a new 4-place crockery set, a 6-place cutlery set and new pots and pans. It's been Cif Wiped to within an inch of it's laminate life. The living room now has a four-seater table (not new, just brought out and unfolded) to join the twin- and treble-sofa (cum bed) plus lowlying coffee table. Freeview and telly will not be included. The toilet has a toilet brush and holder. The bedrooms have new Brabantia bins.

On Tuesday, I had two visits from major London sales & rental firms, who've given me a rent value of £12-1400 pcm - and a market value of up to £335K. Boy, did I buy property at the right time. Taking purchase and renovation costs to a total of 200K, that's a clean £135K profit in six years. Lovely job. I think I might look into this game a little further. In the evening my old London radio mate came round. He's just lost his job, through his own personal daftness, with a major dance music station in the capital. He's not stuck for leads, but he's not doing anything at the moment, so he came 'round last night. We killed about six hours, easy, just chatting, drinking endless coffees and Cokes, searching YouTube and chewing the fat. Which we both have plenty of.

Today, I've ordered a mattress for the second bedroom (it is delivered tomorrow) and, at the behest of both mother and good lady friend, been to have a haircut. For years, I had the pure buzz cut: I am balding, I have no problem with it, and my philosophy was to get used to the shape of my exposed head. I will be seeing much of it in the future. Then, somewhere around March, I decided to start growing my hair. See what I could get out of it. The Last Hurrah, perhaps? Anyway, I grew it out from a number one all over, and sure enough, after six months it looked lousy. Unkempt. Which is not me at all. And so, I've been for my first ever haircut that cost me more than a tenner. I'd rather not say how much it did cost, but the experience - from the swift welcome and in, to the consultation (?), the wash - not unusual, but followed by head massage with eucalyptus, the banter throughout from my hairdresser (male, Dennis), and the final result - were all much more than I've ever got from the barbers on Harborne High Street.

Later, I'm heading to Ikea with the same unemployed radio mate for some curtain rails. Why on earth would I consider that information interesting to anyone else? Tomorrow, I have to stay in all day waiting for this mattress - as usual, the tightest delivery window parameters provided are "between 9am and 530pm", which rather limits my movements: so let's get all the stuff I need for jobs tomorrow, tonight. Then I can ferret away like some DIY dickhead all day on Thursday. Whoopee fucking do.

I've just had a report that means I shall be doing this alone. Ho hum. God, I get so bored on my own.

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