Blog 1: How does this thing work?

Thanks to my friend the Hoople (aka Bill), I think I have this thing up and running.

It only took almost an hour (some of you may know just how well technology and I get along).  Luckily this time was well spent learning how to set up a blog, as I wait for the Salvation Army to come and pick up my refrigerator.  Yes, it is still in working condition and I would keep it except that my grandmother no longer needs hers, so I get to have it.  It is bigger, newer and possibly, shinier.  For those of you who have always wondered, size does matter...in any event, the lady from the Salvation Army told me that they can pick it up "between 8am and 3:30pm.  We may not take it though."  Ok, that was the politest way I have ever been told to go and do something improper with myself and the rest of the world.

So I leave tomorrow night for London (via Hong Kong to visit a dear girlfriend and her wonderful husband) to go to cooking school.  The Cordon Bleu, to be precise.  It is my year off from practicing and studying law...the better to refresh the brain upon my return.

To answer some prelminary questions:
No - this is not meant to be a career change (which is why I asked work for the time off before I applied for the course).  They agreed to let me come back when I am finished.

No - this is not a result of being inspired by the plethora of reality cooking shows on TV (which I haven't bothered to watch since I could predict the lines of the show - masterclasses excepted).

Yes - I have always loved food.  Some of you may know about my rule for dating and food - not negotiable, boys must be able to eat as much, or more, than I do.  It's no fun when he's full and I'm saying, "Great appetizer, where's dinner?"

Yes - I can cook.  Sort of.  It involves throwing everything into the pot and seeing how it turns out.  Requests for repeats indicate that the attempts have been, for the most part, successful.

No - they didn't require industry experience to get into the Cordon Bleu, which is good because I don't have any.  They did want a CV and a letter saying why you like food.  Lucky for me I dreamed about vegetables (sans butter - I left that part out) the night before I sent my application.

Yes - I know the coffee is bad.  See below.  It is cause for panic and confusion.

Yes - there is a uniform.

No - I will not take pictures.  If I do take pictures, I will not show them to you.  No matter how nicely you ask, so forget it.

Yes - there will be food that I either don't like or think is gross.  Not looking forward to having to eat it first thing in the morning, but must be done - talk about taking one for the team!

London Bound
Everyone kept asking why London instead of say, Paris, to which I say the following:

1.  More friends = more potential guinea pigs.

2.  I speak the language - sort of.  I realized how important this was while arguing with two evil telecommunications companies, who shall remain nameless (cough, Telstra and Optus, cough, cough) last March when I moved house.  I figured that if I couldn't make them understand that they had not provided their services and/or their services were no longer needed when we all theoretically spoke the same language, I wouldn't have a snowflake's chance in hell of doing so in my extremely limited French in Paris.  I know enough French to be snobby about my ability to speak the language and it's Not Good.  If I can't get directions to the Orangerie, I probably can't get them to fix my broadband internet.

3.  French bureaucracy can't be fun.  The UK Consulate sent me my passports in the envelope that they said they never received.  I didn't want to find out what the French one might do...

Sort of
I am now in the midst of packing (sort of) and sorting things out (sort of) and organising the apartment (sort of).  Everything has to be done at once because they are all sort of interrelated.

In the meantime my apartment looks like a disaster area - there are piles for mail (sorted/to be sorted - sort of!), piles for filing, piles of requested groceries, piles of toiletries that I'm afraid I can't get in London (or at least can't get without spending way more than I know they cost at home) and clothes to get through the freezing weather in HK and London.  By the by, thanks Abs for the warning re current temperatures in London.  Will be packing coats and hoping they don't take up too much room.  Am thinking clothes are of secondary importance - most, if not all, will probably not fit by the end of the year.  Have packed things that stretch.

Now it's back to more sorting/triaging everything for my bags.  Have realized that for a person who isn't into cosmetics, shoes and bags, the piles which have to be whittled down resemble Sephora and the bag/shoe section of a department store.  May have a problem with bath products...hope food fixes all.

Coffee has gotten cold but is still immeasurably better than the cup of coffee I tried in London back in April 2010.  Am panicking at the thought of bad coffee for the rest of the year.  May have to schedule a side trip (Italy?  France?) for coffee fix.  Or else spend the rest of the year in a coffee-deprived haze.  Do people judge if you drink cokes in the morning if drinkable coffee is unavailable?

Mesa suggested the title of the blog, so thanks JH!  See email re same.