'tu me manques'

Seeing as how I don't speak French, I am not sure if this is true.
But I do know that I love it.
So much so that I have framed it and hung it on the wall in the pineapple shack.

As a self confessed hopeless romantic I feel a certain obligation to make comment come February 14th.
But of late I haven't really been feeling the love.

In fact show me a nice girl who doesn't appreciate a nice boy within a nice arms reach and I will show you a mountain of detritus courtesy of Freedom Furniture or Dare Gallery or Good Guys or you get the picture.
And I will show you a box of Voltaren.

And somewhere in amongst all of that wrapping and scaffolding and cartonage and whatever - I hold grave fears.
Because I have lost a whole bunch of keys. 
To every window and sliding door in my little Pineapple Shack.
AND the letterbox. 
Here was me, my letter of application, "I will be a very quiet tenant, respectful of your property." 

And now I am a common vandal.
Armed with a coat hanger and tongs I crept down to the foyer in the dead of night.
I knew there was 'stuff' in my letterbox. 
And so with the wire and the tongs and my fingers I tried to coax it out of the crack. 
Until ping! The whole front flew open. Scared the life out of me!
It is now permanently open. Never to be shut again - without a key.
I feel the need to dodgy up a few more letterboxes to make it look like an outside job!



I asked the agent about spares. No love there.
I asked the building manager about spares - even less love there.
He said 'HAVE YOU LOST THEM?' With a tone..
I said 'Um no...just temporarily misplaced'. 
Definitely NO. LOVE. THERE.

Next I will show you 15 Allen keys.
Who says my lovely stainless steel fan needs to have it's handle at the top and not the side. Who the hell buys a fan, comes home and unpacks it (more rubbish) and expects to have to put it together themself!  I like it this way, it looks like an ear ..
If I could understand the directions to the air conditioning I actually wouldn't need the fan. But what is the point of having an air conditioner blasting in the living area when you only want it blasting in the bedroom.
The aircon and I are not feeling the love either. 
I am a little hot and bothered.




When I moved in I had the electricity and the gas connected. Obviously.
All rather straight forward.
Until I went to make my favourite chicken and coconut curry.
I admit - I was very slow getting started in the kitchen. The appliances looked so shiny new.
But I certainly knew the oven worked as I had warmed a pizza in it!







I just didn't realise the oven was electricity and the cooktop wasn't.
So I went to light the gas cooktop and you guessed it. No love there.
So I look under the cupboard. Yay -  there is a tap. But it doesn't say ON or OFF.
It doesn't even say gas! All I know is that it is extremely tight and I am not touching it.
Three days later the building manager (the one with the tone) turns it on for me.
And glares!
I am determined to crack him.

The DVD recorder/player was by far my darkest day. Yes, "it's easy" says the 'Good Guy', you just plug it in.
I said "easy for you - you do it every day!" "No he assured me - "it's easy".
So two weeks later I summoned up the courage and unpacked the box. (more rubbish)
Just connect the red to the red, the white to the white, the yellow to the yellow - take the one from the TV and stick it in the DVD and take the one from the DVD and connect it to the wall.
Except there was no yellow hole.
So I just left it hanging.

I put a hibiscus in my hair and I inserted my Hawaii Five-0 DVD for the big alpha testing.
Hit Play. Oh God.
I was certainly hearing the music but Steve McGarret was no-where to be seen.
Not one tiny little bit of Aloha to be found there.  

So I attempted to google 'yellow cable stuff'.
But I don't have Broadband and after a few minutes of frustration trying to read "stuff" off my iPhone I gave up.
And had a little cry. Followed by a little sleep.
Two hours later I emerged to try again.
Nothing. 
The TV is so heavy and the Cabinet so awkward.
Again - I was not feeling the love.
I was feeling a very wet face and by this time my hibiscus had well and truly wilted.



Particularly when I received a text message from Telstra telling me I had used up my monthly gigabyte allowance with 18 days to go!

Further wilting.
But I did have a slight inkling how this may have happened!
Oh yes I well and truly had been feeling the love there.
The day I discovered my own 'Personal Hotspot!'
I have a 'Personal Hotspot!'
Does everyone know about this?
We all have one! It's fabulous.
It's almost mindblowing.
I couldn't believe how simple it was to use!
And instant gratification.
Suddenly my sleeping iPad came alive!
I could play Words on both my iPad and on my iPhone.
I could play with myself.
And win.
Every time.
I was completely enamoured with my own 'Personal Hotspot'.
Until that text message. Followed by the bill.
Oh dear.
Who would have thought my own 'Personal Hotspot' would be worth THAT much.
I SAY! It is pretty damn wonderful I'll be the first to admit but ..
Oh my!

So. I have now deactivated my 'Personal Hotspot' and I have promised myself it is only to be accessed in times of dark and dire desperation.
Like when Steve McGarret is no-where in sight.

I decided that I would go back to that 'Good Guy' and demand he explain to me exactly what needed to go where. 
I am a woman who needs clarity!
So I stuck my arm down behind the TV to take a picture to show him.
Because the TV is too heavy for me to to move.
But when I looked at the picture on the screen of my iPhone I instantly saw something yellow.

It wasn't marked 'yellow' like the red was marked 'red' and the white was marked 'white'.
But inside the hole was yellow.
Pineapple yellow. 
Tentative hope sprung.
And ever so cautiously I plugged the yellow cable into the yellow hole. 
And there he was. 
Steve McGarret.           
In my own little pineapple shack. 

Relief washed over me.
In so many ways.
I was content.
No 'Personal Hotspot' required.

Happy Valentine's Day.
I hope you too are feeling the love.