Well, Chelle’s first birthday away from home was a bit of a downer, really, to be honest. The day started really well, with Thad waking me up at some god-awful time to give me some lovely pressies, including nice new thongs! (Personally I didn’t think that my old thongs needed replacing, even though they were falling apart and an odd shade of browny grey and white, but still my new pink ones are awesome!) and then off to work for me after talking for about 50 minutes to le family back home.
The best thing that happened was while I was at the bank doing some banking for the store, my phone rang and I thought it was my landlord because he said “Michelle? I’m outside your house can you let me in?” and also he had an irish accent (surprise surprise) like my landlord. Anyway, after some confuzzled blabbering I realised that he was a delivery man with FLOWERS! And so he came to my work and gave me really nice flowers and the biggest Cadbury Milk Tray you’ve EVER seen, from my lovely mummy! So fantastic, although the card was a bit odd, because it was from my mum but in different handwriting.
Anyway, at lunch I happened to be walking past a bike store and saw a really cool, cheap trekking bike that would be perfect for our trip to London, so I got �600 out and went to buy them, but then couldn’t make up my mind so I put a deposit down and said I’d come back tomorrow.
When I got home, we were going out for tea, so I said to Thad “I’m putting the �600 in my address book and then we left. After a very lovely tea at Wagamama, japanese chain restaurant, we came home and found our bedroom window open. Thad was adamant that he closed it but I just thought he was being silly until I looked at the bookshelf and noticed the address book lying open, with the money gone. Shite. A further search revealed also that my camera was gone, too. (Although our discmans, next to the address book, were untouched). So yeah. We called the Gardai and they came over very promplty and were very nice and organised for a crime scene forensic person to come over the next day. Sigh. Anyway, to put it short, someone must have heard me say where I put it. Not only that, but it’s nigh impossible to get in that window (you have to clambour over a fence laden with broken glass and over a roof) - not to mention that there were no fingerprints on the frame to suggest someone had gone through it.
Now our landlord was near our window when I said that and he has keys to our flat. So we’ve drawn our own conclusions.
Well the police are investigating and we’re drudging through trying to earn our money back. We’re not going to travel through Ireland any more simply because we’re sick of the place (no offense - a lot of it is lovely).
Anyway, internet about to run out. Toodles!
