jump to navigation

Past perfect September 26, 2007

Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.

Just a quickie.

The perfect friend has been and gone. His new girlfriend is perfect. He has got slightly more perfect since I last saw him. Cooking was kept to a minimum. I didn’t sneeze all over them. The Russian is back, which is perfect. We went out to dinner as a perfect foursome tonight and that passed off perfectly, even though I thought the floor might tip up as the Russian and I both sat on one side of the table and the perfect Finns sat sveltely on the other. But it withstood the strain.

A dear friend and his boyfriend, the beautiful friend – I helped get them together, so I can die happy – held a bash on Saturday night. The perfect friend and his girlfriend agreed to come along. I also dragged perfect bloggeress B. along and she agreed, perfectly, to be dragged. The perfect friend is probably perfectly unaware that when anyone ever meets him, the conversation that ensues within one second of him leaving earshot is about his beauty. The dear friend, the perfect bloggeress and I popped out onto the balcony for a ciggie so we could discuss the perfect friend’s perfection. “He is gorgeous,” commented the dear friend, hostlily. “He looks just like a Finnish A_ – my perfect friend was a Finnish A_ – I was neighbours with in California in the early 80s,” B. added.

I put off the ciggie.

“B., he DID live in California in the early 80s.”

We turned on our heels and once we’d calmed down from the palpitations his renewed beauty inspired, B. asked if he’d lived on such and such a street.

“Perkele jumalauta saatana vittu!” he exclaimed. “I’d just said to my perfect girlfriend that you looked familiar!”

Cue ferocious reminiscing, photos being taken on mobiles and sent to siblings, a quick mobile chat between the perfect friend and B.’s brother and subsequent sterling work by the B. family in getting me old photos of the families and of the two sets of children playing together 25 years ago which I presented to the perfect friend this evening.

You’ve got to admit, as coincidences go, that’s a pretty good one.



1. narrowback - September 26, 2007

ah, remember…there’s only like 50 people on earth – the rest is all smoke and mirrors

2. bowleserised - September 26, 2007

I think we might be related. That’s the only explanation.

3. Ed Ward - September 26, 2007

Oh, that’s B.’s party trick. Weren’t you there the night we discovered that a friend of mine in Austin was her first cousin?

4. pleite - September 26, 2007

Ed, I wasn’t, but I am intrigued. The perfect Finn also bumped into someone who knew his cousin, though that was, admittedly, someone from his hometown here for the same worky thing, so not quite so amazing.

B., so are you related to everyone? And do you mean you’re related to me or to him? I have invented some Scottish ancestors somewhere back in the family tree. They’re bound to be in the Bowleserised clan.

Narrowback, I was once talking to this woman and we were sure we had a connection and we discussed it all at length… and then remembered that we were mother and son sitting in her living room watching Australian soap operas. We couldn’t believe the coincidence of it all!

5. Anonymous - September 27, 2007

purrfect, purrrfect…

6. Valerie in San Diego - September 27, 2007

That’s a lovely little story. And for some reason it cheers me up immensely.

7. bowleserised - September 27, 2007

What did he make of the photos?

8. bowleserised - September 27, 2007

Might be second cousin – my great uncle’s son. How does the cousin thing work again?

9. pleite - September 27, 2007

B., it’s all very complicated, especially when generations get involved. So, I reckon your great-uncle’s son is your first-cousin-once-removed. His children, if the Good Lord has been gracious enough to grant him any, would be your second cousins. The Russians are very good with this, partly by being forced to be by having an incredibly complicated system where relations have different titles depending on permutation. So they call female cousins sister and male cousins brother. I always get confused when the Russian talks about a brother and doesn’t mean his brother… And perfect Finnish A_ was THRILLED TO BOLLOCKS with the photos and actually didn’t remember the London visit so was doubly thrilled to bollocks. He tucked them into his perfect jacket pocket and will no doubt be showing them round in Finland any day now.

Valerie, it’s a nice one, especially as B. and perfect Finnish A_ didn’t instantly hate each other or remind each other that one owed the other $12 or something like that. So it was all a success. And a lovely excuse for me to see photos of them both from 25 years ago where, we all agreed, B., you look absolutely identical (apart from in height, as a 6-foot five-year-old girl would have been odd).

Anonymous, indeed, indeed. (I think.)

10. bowleserised - September 28, 2007

Ach so! Thank God for Russiana! And I’m glad the Finnish one was amused. Did he remember the reindeer? They were in the background of one of those photos.

11. pleite - September 28, 2007

Hmm, he didn’t mention the reindeer. I think we were more taken with the fashions of the time, and the fact that one of his brothers had ever had hair.

12. bowleserised - September 28, 2007

And didn’t one of them look like he was fresh out of Aha? Not that Aha existed then…

13. pleite - September 28, 2007

He did, he did. I even suggested as much to perfect Finnish A_, and he agreed wholeheartedly. And his father looks just like the man who teaches (or rather taught, in the 70s, but the programmes are still shown. I like watching them) English on German TV.

14. KMS - September 28, 2007
15. Marsha Klein - September 29, 2007

Ooh, my sister was at university with Francis Matthew’s niece.

‘Appy Birthday, kitten!

16. Anonymous - September 29, 2007

Ooh, that is indeed very special. And perfect. And I am so proud of you for coping so perfectly. You must not sell yourself short when you are clearly a wonderful host. When I next visit Berlin (because I shall! Now that I am getting a wage and all!) can we meet for coffee? And random sandwiches? I do miss the randomness of German sandwiches… x

17. Le Welsh - September 29, 2007

Apologies for being anonymous; ’twas not my intention… x

18. Ed Ward - September 29, 2007

Happy birthday to the perfect host!

19. narrowback - September 29, 2007

’tis your birthday BiB? if so, birthday greetings from amer-i-kay.

20. KMS - September 30, 2007

Birthday thingyness from me too.

21. pleite - October 1, 2007

KMS, thank you, thank you. I got your first comment by e-mail and didn’t have access at that precise second to the blog and I have Alzheimer’s and I couldn’t work out why the buggery you were sending me a reference to that actor. Whom I don’t know, actually, but, having followed the link, he seems much too glam to have presented the programme I like(d) to watch. That had a beardy Engländer who spoke very good German and who went through the rules or constructions two no doubt poorly-paid actors had just demonstrated in wonderfully bad sketches with very poor sets.

Narrowback, it was, it was. And thank you too. Another year down the drain.

Ed, thank you, thank you too. And I have just got a glut of work out of the way, and I am guest-free, so it is, at last, time to get hostly with you. After all, didn’t the stars also have it that this should occur in October?

Temporarily anonymous of Cymru, yes, coffee and sandwiches and everything else would be good. But I am a rubbish host. So rubbish you can’t believe it. Nervous. Which the guests probably catch, contagiously, and then we all spend our time bumping into each other from nerves and crying. Hopeless, hopeless. I’m better out than at home, but only just.

Marsha, that is wonderfully obscure. Well done. And thank you too for the birthday wishes. I am officially in post-birthday gloom. This very sweet Russian birthdayish song sums up the mood nicely. “…К сожалению день рождения только раз в году…” (Unfortunately it’s only your birthday once a year.) I keep telling the Russian it’s my birthweek but he’s having none of it.

22. marshaklein - October 1, 2007

Aww, that is wonderfully melancholy (it’s those accordions, I tell you). My birthday is at Christmas, so my post-birthday gloom usually feeds straight into New Year depression!

At the risk of repeating myself, I just have to say that you are far from being a rubbish host. So far, in fact, that I doubt “rubbish” is visible from the point you occupy on the hostliness scale! But, I do understand the panic-inducing nature of house guests (even the ones you really want to see) and as for doing it all alone, well the less said about my solo efforts the better! Let’s just say that, if I was ever to become a single parent, my children would be the first to petition social services to take them into care! So I’m glad that the Russian is restored to you and domestic bliss can once again reign in the BiB/Russian household.

23. pleite - October 1, 2007

OK, I’m going to attempt to be very paaasitive and rework my interpretation of the domestic sitch into bliss. I’m sure we’re very nearly there!

Do you think I can ask to be taken into care? I’d love to be pampered by some social worker (before he/she goes on to murder every one of us in the home, claiming Munchausen made them do it).

24. engelsk - October 2, 2007

Happy Belated!

25. pleite - October 2, 2007

Darling, thank you, thank you. I am officially now over the fact that my birthday is vorbei.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: