The New Necessary

Maybe we're tired, maybe we're nuts, or maybe we're just really easily amenable to the power of suggestions.  Whatever the case, I'm not sure if it's really safe to let H or I go shopping this week.

After a marathon of Downton Abbey, I came home with this claret.  For 3.89 GBP, I couldn't resist.  I did resist the crystal goblets to drink it out of (you're welcome H).  But I wouldn't say no to a butler to serve it; sadly I never did unwrap one for my birthday.  Alas, if I got my butler, I would probably need to get some appropriate glassware.

Not to be outdone in weirdness, after a glorious lunch of dim sum, I found H at the checkout line of the neighboring Chinese supermarket with these two giant bamboo steamers:

 

Apparently these are necessary to steam the frozen dim sum he had also selected.  Forget the fact that the rice cooker has been used to do the very same thing for the past three years and the fact that we have two small cabinets in our tiny kitchen to store all cookware and containers in.  Two steamer baskets + one lid, each with a diameter of ~16 inches = NECESSARY.  However, as the official sous-chef/chief taster for Master Chef H, I can't really object to his kitchenware selections.

One day I'll have to do a pictorial inventory of our overseas kitchenware titled either What Our Kitchen Cabinets Look Like After Moving Overseas in Four Suitcases and Leaving Behind All of the Gorgeous Items From Our Bloomingdale's Wedding Registry or Expat Kitchen Essentials.  Either way, prepare to be astounded.

I Don't Think I Woke Up Back in the Middle East, Did I?

While there may be some positive things about the United Kingdom that remind me of my time living in the Middle East (i.e. late night grocery shopping, kebab shops, Nando's), today I had my first wtf, are you sure I've escaped Doha moment?  Last weekend, I ordered an iron online from Debenhams.  I know, very exciting; I think I might actually be getting closer to 30.  Anyway, given that my wallet was across the room and H was sitting next to me with his wallet conveniently located in his pocket, I used his credit card to place the order.  The prescribed order confirmation timeline had passed so this morning I called Debenhams to check on the status of the order.

Upon request, I provided the customer service representative with:

• The confirmation number, "Great, thank you miss."
• Delivery destination, "Yes, thank you." 
• E-mail address, "Great."
• Name the order was placed under, "Excuse me, may I please speak with your husband?"

"Umm, pardon?"  

"I need to speak with your husband as the order is in his name."

"I have all the information and I actually placed the order; the confirmation is going to my e-mail address."

"I'm sorry miss but I can't discuss any details of the order with you."

"You realize that w're talking about an iron, right?"

"I'm sorry but the order is in your husband's name."

Ok, last time I use H's credit card instead getting up off my lazy butt to get my purse.  What did this guy think?  That I had hacked someone else's e-mail account, found an outstanding order for an iron, and called to find out when they were planning on delivering it to the address on the order?

Wow, maybe I'm missing something (like the iron came with a free person to iron everything, or better yet, a butler) but given that I had all of the order details, refusing to update me with the order status seemed a little extreme.  Sorry H, but you're going to have to add calling Debenhams to the bottom of your million item long to-do list.

While you're at it, maybe you can also do the following:

• Pre-emptively give me written permission to drive in the United Kingdom.
• Order me a sweatshirt that says, "Don't worry, my husband allows me to go outside without a headscarf/burqa/niqab."
• Write me a permission slip for buying Winter Pimm's, Baltika and Savanna Dry.  It can read something like, yes, these items are within my wife's 'allowance' and she is over 18.
• Hire a butler.  Whoops, sorry, I don't know how that line item slipped in.

Many thanks!

New Birthday Wish List

Dear H,

Since moving from Perth, I've added a few alternative options to my birthday wish list.  While I appreciate the caring motivation behind the desire to get me rec specs, I would much prefer something else.  For years, I've wanted a puppy, but now that we live in the United Kingdom, I would also take a hairy coo:

More specifically, I would love a baby hairy coo:

I still have an outstanding desire for a mercenary, but given our current location, I would happily accept a butler.  One that has good connections to get us into castles and distilleries in the winter season and who is an expert at pouring tea would be preferred.  I know just the person if you can persuade him to come work for us.  I would also greatly appreciate it if the butler was able to make the meager heating systems here warm our house.  For some reason British people think that heating a piece of metal in the corner of a room will warm a whole house, trust me it doesn't.

While they may fail on the radiator front, Brits definitely get an A+ for their seemingly widespread use of heated towel racks.  This falls into the future birthday category (don't worry, I'll still be turning 26), but I would really love to have heated towel racks in all future homes. 

Don't worry H, I haven't forgotten about you.  For your birthday I'm getting you the top item on your list, a pair of dictator sunglasses.  Putin has them, Gaddafi had them, now you can have them.  Might I suggest that you consider adding a white Toyota Hilux to your birthday wish list to compliment them?

Love,
Anonymous Expat