I’m in the middle of a particularly British moment, the D.I.Y cup of tea. Not that I’ve been doing any real D.I.Y, just a vigorous cleaning of a recently inherited chest of drawers. I think that’s a sign that I’ve already been in le seizième for too long – I’m considering even a spot of cleaning to be D.I.Y, because around here, on doing cleaning oneself is a bit of a rarity, one for the occasional Sunday morning punters.

Why? I’m allergic to dust. This is also a recent acquisition. Before, and I’m almost ashamed to admit it, I thought allergies were just psychosomatic (shame! Boo hiss! I’ve just halved my readership… that brings it down to one, thanks for sticking by me, Mum). But now I have (particularly debilitating for a student) an allergy to dust and dust mites, and hence an allergy to our hand-me-down chest of drawers.

This has, of course, got me thinking about many profound things, as fuelled by radioblogclub.com. There are two cheesy pop songs I have a soft spot for at the moment.

The first is Mika’s ‘Love Today’. It reminds me of driving around in the summer, when everyone around here couldn’t get enough of his catchy words and operatic drivel. Now, like any discarded post-15-minutes-of-fame item of pop culture, its shrugged off as “oh… that..”.

Even worse, it has been relegated to the supermarkets. If I were to do any thought association with it now it would be drifting through the vegetable aisle of Franprix, while Guillaume ponders in the alcohol section, using a South-Western gut feeling to pick us a Bordeaux red.

The other song is Raphael’s ‘Caravane’. I have such a weakness for this song of last season – not that I know a word of it (I’m sure it doesn’t get very deep in its 3:30 minutes) – but because the film clip has a very Russian winter feeling to it. The gorgeous couple (not that this brings back memories), twirls in circles whilst swigging vodka. Ahh… those “were” the memories… I think…