As I wrote to friend Jennifer, discombobulated is the name of the game. I awoke this morning in Guildford and said to myself: HUH? Two days ago musing in the bathtub at Dolphin Square there was a feeling of relief, that the drudgery was over and the adventure was about to begin. There is something familiar about drudgery however and to have it disappear does lead to disorientation.
My last day at Dolphin Square was actually pleasant. Natalia, the Letting Manager called to say I could stay one more day at the hotel so I was happy, happy, happy. I went for the included breakfast and sat next to Polly. She was staying at Dolphin House as part of a group of 25 Environmental Science PhD students. Of course, it made no sense at all as Dolphin House is rather posh, not at all environmentally friendly and the seminars were located way across town. Polly was most inventive and interesting with diverse interests, careers and schooling. A brother who majored in musicology at Berkeley so there was a Bay Area connection. Then it was off to a water aerobics class taught by my precious personal trainer Brian. The other Brian, surprised to see me as he thought he was rid of me, cautioned against the breakfast telling me I would throw up in the pool. “HaHa” said I, then you would have to close the pool down like you did the time there was little kid excrement floating about.” He then threatened to hold my head under water and drown me. People have the strangest ways of saying goodbye. I laughed about the drowning although it is a sore subject. Uncle Dave drowned and my theory is that he had water phobia. I have it, a cousin has it and so does her father. The profound panic probably hastened his death and explains why everyone but he survived the boat’s capsize. . I explore it in my book. The women in the aerobics class talk all the time which irritates me immensely. I said out loud: “Please start the class, I am here to exercise, not talk” Brian looked at me, shook his head and mouthed: “Behave!” I have been wanting to say that for months. Then some lady wanted me to move over and I said: “No”. She said something about it being best to accommodate. “I disagree totally, you never get anywhere accommodating!” But then I remembered something Colette says: “Oh, did I say that out loud?” The gestures accompanying that statement include placing your hand over your mouth. It was fun but she acted like she didn’t[t hear me. People have strange ways of saying goodbye.
Then it was off to the hotel room to get a call from Giuseppe One saying that check out time was eleven. “Huh? Natalia said I could stay another day!” “But the hotel is fully booked, you can stay in your flat“ “Huh? I am supposed to get all of my stuff out!” So Giuseppe One the darling came to my flat and helped me pitch out things so I could get out of there and come to Guildford, It was such fun, he said he had moved five times and he was really good at it. He is cute and funny as well. This is proof that you never get any where by accommodating. If I had said: “Yes Sir” to him there would have been no help. So it all got done and I am out of Dolphin Square without the help of any of you blog readers. Although I did get this email from Regan: “I just read your March 10th post about what happened yesterday and saw you said “She is forgiven for not helping me move-She lives in Canada.” I laughed SO hard, because I was literally just thinking about how I wish I could fly back and help you move!! Too funny.” Valentine who does live in London also volunteered to help but it was all done. For that gesture his picture is placed at the bottom of this posting. He is the one on the right.
I took yet another load of stuff to Mailbox on Wilton Road to get mailed off. My stuff is scattered all over Canada and the United States. Bruce emailed to say that one box was in Philadelphia. It could only happen to me. I laugh as I write. The people at Mailbox were so wonderful, I do not know where I would be without them. But most of the people they deal with are so rude. One ridiculous Spanish woman kept yelling and yelling about being a professional and her boyfriend was all mad because he had to pay customs and that was a big surprise to him even though he was told and it is hardly something Mailbox personal can do, control customs offers in far away countries. I am not happy about the customs levy but yelling at Mailbox personal is not going to help anything. On the way back to Dolphin Square the taxi driver hearing me complain about the joys of moving advised me to drink a couple of gins and tonics then put on some high heel shoes. I laughed about the high heel shoes and told him it was going in the blog. Here it is.
Then back at Dolphin House a man keeps crying and wiping the ‘tears’ from his eyes with his tie. He says he is crying because I am leaving. He told me that I don’t look like I am 73, I look like i am 37. I said I would blog the comment, I am.
Natalia, the Letting Manager and I are great buddies at this point. I give her banking information for the return of the security deposit (unlikely) but I accidentally take it with me. She chases after me. I say to her: “Sorry but kleptomania runs in the family.” I laugh at my own joke and say: “I am going to blog it.” I did.
Then with Giuseppe One’s helpful instructions I hop on a train and come to Guildford. A wonderful young man by the name of Jack helps me with my luggage. I say: “Holy cow! I must not be in London any more. Someone is helping me with my luggage instead of being utterly rude.” He laughs. Of course, I gave him my blog business card.
Guildford is more wonderful than I even remembered and the people at the Harbor Hotel so welcoming. That is where and when this blog began. In the words of a cigarette commercial: “You have come a long way baby!” Read about Guildford tomorrow. Such fortuity all of this.