Where's your phone at though?

Have you seen this yet?

Dear Friends who think it's ok to have your phone out at dinner,

Dear Friends who have to update facebook when we meet for coffee,

Dear Friends who would email the police rather than call them if they ever found my dead body in a recycling bin,

I love you, but please, for the sake of our friendship, for my rapidly decreasing patience, for your personal communication skills, for the children, for Queen and for country, 

put your phone away.

Live your life. Be present in the present. 

And the next time you get your phone out at dinner and its not someone calling to say that your house is on fire and you need to go rescue your goldfish tank and your Extreme Ironing trophies - you're paying. 

With love from Rachel

How to Survive a Quarter Century Crisis?

Despite being told last weekend that I looked 17 I am, in fact, fast approaching my mid-twenties (#notsurehowtodealwiththis). Any of you fortunate enough to have met High Queen Rachel of Melodrama may remember the not-quite-Quarter-Century-Crisis (read this if you missed out). Well, now that I am more or less recovered I am sufficiently qualified to offer some diamonds of wisdom on how to survive a Quarter Century Crisis (real or imagined)...

It's simple really - Find a friend.

Seriously. Find a friend who gets it. Find a friend to help you plug the leak of your dreams, bail out the sinking boat of your Quarter Century Crisis, fix the oars of your hope and row to the shore of Life As A Grown Up. #cheesybuttrue

Find a friend who not only understands what you’re trying to figure out, but can help you get to wherever it is you want to go – even if you don’t know where that is most of the time.

Not a friend to patronisingly pat your hand, offer you a side tilt look of sympathy and then change the subject to something less..awkward. Not a friend with whom you can become unhealthily dependant – i.e. calling each other to discuss what to have for lunch/what socks to wear because you can no longer face any decision alone is not ok (if this is you, then you need to find another friend to get you some help, and soon).

To survive your Quarter Century Crisis you need to find a friend with whom you can be honest. Find a friend who will help you set goals and ask you why if you haven’t met them. Find a friend to help you keep your sense of humour. Find a friend who will lovingly (and that’s o so very important) tell you what you already knew but where too scared to admit. Find a friend who will bring round the Nutella/beer/comfort food of choice when what you thought was the right track turns out to be a costly dead end. Find a friend who will bring round the Nutella/beer/comfort food of choice when zip-a-dee-doo-dah there’s plenty of sunshine heading your way and a Bluebird singing on your shoulder.

Find a friend like this – and not only will you survive your Quarter Century Crisis, but you’ll have a BFF to boot! #winwin

And everyone knows sharing is caring, so if your friend hasn’t hit their own Quarter Century Crisis then maybe helping you out will induce their own (thereby helping them avoid the ridiculously trendy haircut/sky diving/expensive sports car/excessive plastic surgery of the Mid Life Crisis.) So don’t forget to be there for them too. Bring the Nutella/beer/comfort food of choice. Support them in their laments and champion their celebrations.

Find a friend, survive your Quarter Century Crisis. Simple.

Any way-more-sparkly-than-pearls diamonds of wisdom on Quarter Century Crises you care to share?

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.