Thank You, Internet

So, this post was conceived at 10pm tonight, when I was faced a washer/dryer whose drum didn't empty, there was a less than pleasant smell emanating from the rolling drum and the fabric softener refused to leave the dispenser. I was faced with the prospect of calling out a Hoover engineer at 110 quid a pop and sacrificing a day's holiday waiting for him/her, or I could, in true British spirit, do it myself. And whom did I turn to in my moment of despair? You guessed it, the Internet. A few mouseclicks later I discovered horrible reviews for my make/model of washer/dryer (where were they when I was making my purchse two years ago?) and, wonder of wonders, someone very kindly explaining that one of the reasons for my problem could be a clogged drain pump filter, which was fixable. Wet, smelly and messy, but easily fixable. So there, on the kitchen floor, on all fours, with my face close to the floor peering into the filter, while trying not to gag on the smell and trying to keep my knees dry, I thought, "whatever would I do without/did I do before the Internet"?

Dear Internet, 

Thank you for everything. 

I've turned to you to look up universities to do a postgraduate degree, read reviews about washer/dryers, find a recipe for Kerala naadan* meen** curry, find love, keep love, buy car insurance, buy shoes, find a home to rent, find a home to buy, buy air tickets, book holidays, do my weekly groceries, look for a car, talk to friends and family across continents, look up exam results, book my driving test, book visa appointments, buy postage, change my reading habit, for Kazaa and Napster, to start and keep a journal, buy clothes, donate to charity, send birthday cards and flowers, decorate my home, find out what that beautiful plant growing by the side of the road is called, get my fix of the news, share mine and learn from the thoughts/experiences of others on forums, aid my clock-watching on a slow Friday afternoon at work, and find step-by-step instructions on how to clean the filter of a washer/dryer, among millions of other things I simply cannot remember. 

You took my life and turned it on its head, and things have never been any more complicated than getting on Google, since.

Thank you for it all. 

P.S. The washer/dryer has been fixed and will be tested tomorrow morning (because I really don't want to walk downstairs to a flooded/smelly kitchen, first thing in the morning) - watch this space. 

*naadan - from the country or traditional (so I am told)

**meen - fish (so I know)

It is turning out to be quite a summer!

I have my fingers crossed so as not to jinx it.

Man, Woman or Person Who Swallowed a Box?

I was faced with this at the Thornhill Park and Ride, outside Oxford, while dying for a wee, and so I did not at all appreciate being subjected to an extra two seconds' wait to work out whether I was going into the correct toilet.

Yes, you will now say to me that I really should have just focussed on the tiny skirt (?) or tilted my head sideways to read the very arty-farty metal lettering that, in case you are wondering, says FEMALE. Let's face it, wouldn't it have been easier to have it just read 'Women' or 'Ladies' with the usual bog-standard stick figure image? 

As an aside, I find it intriguing and mildly amusing that Baby Nappy Changing Units are always located in the Ladies' toilet if there isn't enough space to give them a separate room. Are there never any men who may a) travel alone with babies and/or b) would like to change their babies' nappies?