shoes

shoes
Originally uploaded by sashinka-uk

My friend Sue is an artist, and I totally love these shoes at her recent exhibition. They're a little bit art deco, and a little bit playful. Unlike real shoes, they're quite delicate, and you probably couldn't wear them.

For a reason I don't know, these shoes totally call to me.

Just listening to Alan Duncan on Question Time (in response to the Morrisey issue) saying that he basically doesn't want any more immigrants coming into the country. All I can say is that I'm a fourth generation immigrant, and I don't expect I'll ever forget it.

In 1897, when my great grandfather came here from Romania/Moldova, fleeing persecution, this country welcomed him, and he made a whole life he. Sure, he made a contribution, built up a business (or two), and was forever proud of his British identity. If Alan Duncan had his way, I wouldn't exist.

I'm going to Paris in a couple of weeks, for LeWeb3 (which, strictly speaking one should pronounce in French), and I'm getting all into French property:)

SoPi, anyone?

Momtaz Shisha Cafe
Originally uploaded by sashinka-uk

The Streets of Cricklewood: Three in a series

I got really excited, and I mean really, when the Momtaz Shisha Cafe started opening about six weeks ago.

First, they got a sign. My immediate thought was: hummous. I thought, bottom of the Edgware Road comes to Cricklewood, how cool is that. I watched them paint and decorate and ship in furniture. Then, they put seats outside, and I thought, it's nearly winter, who sits outside? But then I realised, shisha is like smoking, so you have to do it outside now.

So it's quite busy, now it's open, but it's 90% about the shisha and like less than 10% about the humous, so I've been nervous about going in. I've walked past, peered in to the kitcheny bit. But I am yet to step over the threshold.

Give me time.

OK, so I never thought I'd say this, but I received superlative customer service.

Sorry it took me so long. I've been a little to-the-coast (I don't know entirely what this means. I heard it once in a Woody Allen film. I think - hope - it means busy).

So my Virgin Media operative arrived and rang the doorbell downstairs. Initially, I was worried because even though I buzzed him in, he didn't actually come in, and I had to run down and let him in. Seems as though he wasn't door-enabled.

He said, "I gather your cable modem doesn't work". And I said, "no, it works, it just does something odd to my wifi, and I now have two wifi routers. So you're apparently going to change the cable modem."

He said they don't support wifi routers. I was starting to feel all oh-dear-what-shall-I-do, as I know that I can't make inbound calls to the Virgin Media customer care operative, they only receive calls. But a smile and flash of cleavage (I made the last bit up, he was just fairly customer service focussed) and he plugged everything in, although it did take a few goes and we had to draw a diagram of our daisy chain. Also, he didn't understand why the wifi router was right next to the cable modem, because "it's wireless, innit." I persauded him the wireless router needed to be plugged into something to give wifi to all the other things.

Anyway. Seven-inch version: it works. It took ten minutes. And if I can find the receipt for one of my wireless routers and fax it to Mary at Virgin Media, they'll credit my account. Now, that's what I call customer service.

Well, what are the chances of this happening? I have a problem with my Virgin Media (once Cable London / Telewest) broadband, which seems to have fried a Linksys and Netgear wifi box, and someone's supposed to be coming round 12 - 4 today to change my broadband router and do something about it.

And they just called and said they're running a little early, and could they come round now.

Wow.

Although, reserved-wow, as let's see if they can fix it.

It is 5am. I am at Luton airport, forced to use crappy internet kiosk at £1 per ten minutes, which is £6 per hour, which is slightly more than the minimum wage or what you get for working at McBux. In fact, we should all be a Luton airport internet kiosk.

On my way to web2.0 in Berlin, and ironically my broadband died around 1130 last night when I was just about to do online checkin. I cannot think of online checkin without remembering that terrible, yet somehow memorable late 80s Israeli TV ad "ah, Mr Cohen, you make advance checkin". I, however, did not.

Luckily, once the taxi driver had refound my house, because hey, I never use that local cab firm like all the time, like they practically live with me, I got here in good time and it's like the middle of the day here. Bought Euros for the princely £5 commission (the woman at Travelex, when pushed, told me that because it's a private airport the rents are higher, thus the price of everything is increased).

And yes, I can't link because the interweb here is ropier than old rope, but I know I haven't said anything since the VWF (Virtual Worlds Forum) the week before last. But it was great. We had 450+ people from 23 countries, great feedback, cool press coverage and a multiplicity of ideas of what to offer to the virtual worlds community next.

Uhoh. Two remaining minutes. Sheesh this internet is slow. Hope it's faster in Berlin. See you on the other side.