Thursday, 22 September 2011

I Heart Banks

Yey! I know nobody cares about my whingey bank-problems... but my plan of being consumed by rage and completely ignoring the situation worked!

Today I checked my account again and the money has been taken off my credit card amount, so I won't be charged millions of pointless pounds again and I didn't effectively throw the last, precious amount of English money I had in the bin.

I am so happy- I don't hate you anymore, Royal Bank of Scotland! I'm sorry for calling your mum a fat whore, I' sure she's a lovely woman and she is welcome up to my Cinderella room anytime for tea and cake. Although she would have to bring the cake, because I'm skint. But it's not your fault that I'm skint, RBS! Now I can say with all certainy that my financial crisis was caused by everyone else in the world, apart from me, obviously. It has nothing to do with me.

I have some other good bank news! Today I went to my new French bank all by myself and, although I didn't really understand anything, I came away with my cheque book and debit card! Wow. I no longer feel an unhealthy fury towards banks. I feel like banks are my friend and occasional fuck-buddy (if they're up for that and they don't think it would get in the way of our newly formed friendship).

On a slightly less positive note, I can't actually use my new bank card until I receive my pin number in the post and I have no idea where my post might be, or if us peasants who live in the Cinderella rooms are even entitled to get post. Maybe the gardienne has received the letter already, looked at the stupid English name on the front and thrown it in the incinerator, along with the remains of that prince who came by last week to take me away on his white horse...

I really wish I was living in a fairytale. As much as I now heart banks, I bet Rapunzel didn't have to worry that if she left her tower, the banks wouldn't know where to send her statements. Talking of Rapunzel, my hair is now so long that if I stick my bum out as much as I can, my hair can rest on it like a shelf. (I don't know which part of my appearance that statement actually said more about.) I need to get it cut, but I had it cut in August and it just grew more. It only confirms what I have always suspected- I have magic powers.

Now, because I don't put photos of myself up here, I am aware that some of will not know what I look like or even what my real name is. Well, my real name is Olga Schelisnger and here is a photo to prove just how long my hair is:

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