Parlez-vous moo?

Rosette Prouvaire sighed as she tossed her unruly ebony hair over her shoulder. She was late. Bloody Rougemont was going to have a fit.

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WM XI will be delayed ’til later this evening.

Work has decided that Google Reader = no workand has blocked access. I suppose I’ll have to do my internet surfing at home from now on (pah!)

EDIT 17th July 08: Sorry chaps. I opened Google Reader and was faced by 180 posts. I couldn’t face it. But I’m sure you all wrote *fantastic* things. So here’s my suggestion.. have a look to the blogroll over there —> and pick someone you’ve never read before. Go read a couple of posts then come back here and tell me what you think.

Recently my televisual viewing pleasure has been interrupted by a spate of adverts for things like Friends Reunited, Facebook bla bla bla. Meet up with people you haven’t seen in ages! What is so-and-so up to now? Did they ever marry the super hunk from Form 4b? Everywhere you look, we’re being pushed to reconnect with our past. Let people know how we’re doing. Let them judge us on what we’ve achieved. Talk to people. Whether we want to or not.

It got me thinking about lost friends. Once they’re gone, is it a good idea to try and renew the friendship or do you just let things go?

I have an old friend, T (old as in the length of time I’ve known her, not age). She and I were inseparable. We went to the same school for about four years. She lived with us for about three. We were like sisters. And then, aged 8, we were separated. Different schools. Different friends. Different lives.

I haven’t heard from T in about 7 years. We met up once, while I was at Uni. It was odd. I always thought we had the kind of friendship in which, no matter how long it had been since we last saw each other, we would fall back into the old routine. It didn’t. We both had new lives. I was busy getting drunk at University. She was busy being friends with a certain Royal and going to fabulous parties at the palace. I was getting on with my “solid drinking degree”. She was reading History of Art. Probably.

Her brother died not so long ago. I thought about getting in touch but didn’t. Would it seem contrived? Would it seem like I was just getting in touch because I felt I should, not because I cared?

And so now, many years later, I think about her again. Will we ever be friends again? If I got married, would I invite her? Would she come? Would she care? What’s she doing? Who’s she with? Should I just let the friendship go?

I open up my email and write a quick note, addressing it to an email address from long ago, unsure whether it’s the right one or whether the subject will welcome the intrusion into her new life. It pings away into cyberspace.

I think it’s time to try and reunite.

Hello/Howdy/Aloha/You’ll never believe what…

Insert clever introduction focusing on subject of the day

Cue discussion of said topic with references to rugby/kenya/men/gin/bananas/sheep/all of the above. Argument with self about various different points of view on topic. Reference to other people who have discussed same topic.

Link to popular blog here with pertinent comment about how good/bad/famous/amazing/undeserving the writer is

Move topic towards personal anecdote making passing comments about N/love life/cucumbers/diet/house/cat

Funny punchline

End.

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COMMENTS SECTION:

1. Agreement with blogger calling on personal experiences

2. Note about lack of correct grammar in post

3. Do you want a bigger penis?

4. Disagreement with blogger calling her all names under the sun

5. Disagreement with the disagreement.

6. Self promoting link

7. Comment on how fit Rupert Penry Jones is

8. Ever fancied an Asian bride? Plenty wait for you now!

9. Clever pun and/or link to article on same subject but written in a better style.

10. Comment made 3 months too late with irrelevant statement

Much like the UK, in Kenya, pets form a huge part of a lot of people’s lives.

They talk to them, sing to them, take them out for walks, collapse with them on the sofa, make them part of the family. Some, you buy pedigree. Some, you buy from the street kids on the roundabout and some… some just seem to turn up and make themselves at home.

And so it was with the house we stayed at in Mombasa.

Chairman Meow, Ghengis Cat and Mewgabe all, to varying degrees, shared our stay at the coast.

Ever present at the supper table, the best fed cats in town didn’t seem to mind their new names. They also didn’t seem that inclined to make their way back to wherever it was they came from.

Dogmatix turned up on the second day. Slinking along, almost apologetically until sure of her welcome, the barrel shaped mzee soon became part of the family. She was out enthusiastic (and only) supporter of impromptu cricket games.

At night, she helped herself to the sofa. She kept our feet warm when the rain belted down (the rain in Africa is like nowhere else. Huge drops of rain onto hot ground produce the amazing smell of rain and sun and murham)

But finally, of course, all good things come to an end. I fancy that when we finally drove away after a week in their company, I saw them, all lined up in the drive, a small tear on their furry faces.

They’d never had it so good.

I wonder what they’re up to now. What about you? Have you ever adopted a pet? Have you had one thrust upon you (I know you have English Mum!)

If you do one thing this week you must: Visit my new blog. Oh go on, please. It’s boring and all it has is details of weight loss and diets and exercise but make me feel loved, go on. 

Posts I’ve liked in the last week:
Apollocreed discusses deodrant
Area trace no search looks at the problem of knife crime
Iain Dale despairs at the police
English Mum admits defeat
Blue Cat breathes deeply and calmly
LCT talks to herself
The Unbearable Lightness contemplates stripping
Jo meets a chav
Nicole can’t sleep
Leonie thinks about kittens in cups
Milla reminicises (and uses long words)
Rosie gives you an excuse not to go to work