Monday 13 August 2012

How to Solve the Problem of the Dealers at Your Door?

So I wouldn't say I live in the 'hood exactly. I wouldn't say that I lived in a dodgy area. And if you knew how much our rent was you'd probably think that we lived in a 'gated-community' with a butler, en suite rooms, private gym, walk in wardrobes a la Princess Diaries (a girl can dream), roof-top garden, actual garden, and view of the Thames/Buckingham Palace/Eiffel Tower.

But we don't. 

What we do have is a bunch (gang?) of guys who like to hang around in the courtyard  between the building where I live and the one opposite - and they do lower the tone rather. Here's us trendy hipsters trying (well not really trying because that wouldn't be ironic) to raise standards to oversized glasses frames, good coffee and creative alternatives but our efforts seem to be in vain - they do not care for such things. *sigh*

One or two will usually surface around lunchtime and by 8/9pm there's at least ten guys smoking, eating chicken, dropping litter and riding around on Boris Bikes until the early hours of the morning. I'm not sure of half of what they do, but the half I am sure of fo' sure ain't legal. Sometimes leaving the flat or coming home can be stressful when you know that you might have to walk past them, which is kinda ridiculous because they rarely say anything to you. And sometimes they do share useful security facts about how they watched some guy stealing bikes from the building - but didn't bother to stop him. 

Whether I like it or not they are part of my community. They are literally on my doorstep, quite often blocking the way to the door - but when they realise you want to get into the building they generally move out the way without you even having to ask - see, they're nice boys really I'm sure. 

Which poses the question of how to solve the problem of the dealers at your door? We've (flatmates and I) been wondering about this alot lately. Do we:

A. Ignore them? Fix your eyes on the floor/anywhere but them and purposefully walk past as if they're not there? Which is just ridiculous because it's obvious that you've seen them. 

B. Befriend them? I'm not even sure if this is possible.

C. Report them? The Police come every now and again, sometimes they search them and other times they don't. Not gonna lie - it can actually be quite entertaining, especially when they start complaining to the police about other people who 'lower the tone' but other times it's hard to watch.

D. Make them a cake - my standard solution to everything

E. Other. Suggestions on a postcard please.


So far we've gone for a mixture or A and B, depending on how brave we're feeling and how much weed we can smell. Not gonna lie I mostly go for A - ignore them. But braver flatmates than me have got them to carry heavy suitcases of groceries up two flights of stairs to the flat. And another one has had a long enough chat to discover that one of them really loves his girlfriend and would do anything for her but because their families are from different countries no-one wants them to be together or get married - you see, I'm sure they're nice boys really.

Apart from the noise they don't give us much trouble (although remind me to tell you about the Great Litter and Chicken Wing Debates) but it would be nice if any guest who arrives or leaves after 7pm didn't have to pass some Iron-man Bravery Contest just to get to our door.

Any ideas?

All Sons & Daughters

LOVING All Sons & Daughters right now.

In particular:




My life is yours 
My hope is in you only 
My heart you hold
‘Cause You made this sinner holy 
Holy, holy 

Your glory is so beautiful 
I fall onto my knees in awe
And the heartbeat of my life 
Is to worship in your light 
‘Cause Your glory is so beautiful 
Your glory is so beautiful 



The heartbeat of my life is to worship in your light.



Sunday 5 August 2012

London 2012


I am loving the Olympics right now.

Loving the drama. Loving how London’s transport system seems to be holding up and loving the nice shiny bling that Team GB seem to be rapidly collecting. Who knew that we could actually win stuff?! Look at our recent contenders: men's football in Euro 2012 - we never seem to win at football; Andy Murray at Wimbledon – please, as if his gruff British self could match up the effortless Swiss elegance of Rog. But maybe today is his day. Go Team GB!

But I’ve just discovered that we Brits have a history of being good at rowing and cycling. I thought Steve Redgrave and Chris Hoy were one-off freak successes - apparently not (I'd never heard of Bradley Wiggins before he won the Tour de France but rumour has it that he's actually won quite a few Olympic golds). I've also discovered that we finished fourth in the Beijing medal table – and given that the top two were China and the USA who we could never match, that’s not too bad.

I must admit that during the Olympics I suddenly start claiming my Jamaican heritage. Not that I'm a glory hunter and love a celebration or anything. I hear there's gonna be some good 50 years of independence parties too. Go Jamaica!

I think it was the 2000 Sydney Olympics that made me an Olympics fan. When else can you watch swimming, fencing, handball, hockey, tennis, football, shooting, archery, gymnastics, weightlifting, rowing, cycling  and a million more sports all in the space of a couple of hours and all from the comfort of your own home? Five Points the BBC for putting it all online. The Olympics is pretty much the one time every four years that I actually care about sport.

I am loving seeing the shades of Wimbledon polluted with colour, life and music. Some of the AELTC members are probably crying themselves to sleep.

I also love that on the one year anniversary of the start of the riots we had the best night in British Athletics. Five points to Jessica Ennis, Greg Rutherford and Mo Farah for giving us a night to be proud of.  (Although why I’m proud of complete strangers just because they happen to be the same nationality as me is a mystery).

One thing I'm not loving - how Will & Kate managed to get tickets for everything. What was that? Did someone say rigged ballot? Surely not.

All in all I’m loving London 2012. Team GB for the win!