chairs, beds & couches

So in other news:

I have mastered riding Dennis in heels.


The Brit and I have bought the first furniture for our [waiting] house
A bed and a couch. Couch - sorry sofa or settee - that's what they call it here - only comes after the bed.

So we will spend the first couple of weeks entertaining guests on our bed. Having people over and offering them a cup of tea on our [amazing! Memory foamed and spring coiled! King-size! White! Bespoke! Crafted!] bed.

We've got spreadsheets and we've given our move phases. Check us out. More organised than Thatcher at a cucumber sandwich rally.

Phase 1 is "Get stuff we cannot live without. And paint the walls."
Phase 2 is "Buy plates and a microwave". (We can eat sandwiches until then).
Phase 3 is "Fill our house with cool shit."
Phase 4 is "Buy a braai."

Because we figured we will be spending an ample amount of our lives at home either sitting down or lying down, best we invest in a fuck-off couch and bed to massage our backsides.
As a result, our bed and couch are jaw janglingly hot. And probably the most expensive we've ever owned.
Frankly? We're delighted.

I cheated and fast-forwarded to Phase 3 yesterday
I put a bid in on eBay. For some antique chairs. Which are in Holland and will cost me the same amount to ship over than the price of the actual chairs.

Sigh. I'm so shit at online auctioning. At least it isn't a piano this time. Either way, here they are. I have garnered the opinions of my nearby colleagues. And this is what the general outcome is:

1) "Oh my God, those are amazing. In the right setting, those will look incredible."
2) "Your boyfriend is never going to have his mates around yo watch footie with those chairs. Does he know?" (Yes.)
3) "What if Liberace calls and wants his chairs back?"

Hey, we could always have them re-upholstered if they cause too many 'Gaks!' amongst the minions.