Rachael-The-Bully had a birthday do this weekend. Which meant I sang karaoke and we drank wine at our local pub. It was Halloween themed but no one in England really cares enough to do anything about it. So what you end up with is a half hearted attempt at some form of spooky theme... You know the odd cauldron here, a paper skeleton there... And 100 people packed into a room dressed in normal clothes whilst 8 or so people mingle in amongst them covered in blood with a sharp instrument of some kind protruding from their head.
It's not that any of us don't like the holiday, it's just that... Well... As a whole we are all just incredibly incredibly lazy. As such, we will sit around and talk about how cool it would be if we got dressed up and knocked on stranger's houses in order to steal sweety goods. We will remark about how amazing it must be to spend one Halloween night in America to see how it's properly done, but inevitably we will either opt for the "jumper and jeans" look or stick a witches hat on and say that's good enough.
I'm not saying that every single British person is the same but I have yet to go to a party that is any different. You will get the odd one who has made an effort but everyone else just sits and laughs at that person whilst having the following conversation:
Person A: Oh look! Someone has come completely dressed as the invisible man!
Person B: Wow, he looks amazing. How does he breathe in those bandages?
Person A: I don't know but what a good idea! I wish I had thought of that, it looks so good.
Person B: I know. We should have got dressed up this year.
Person A: We should have. I wish you had said something earlier... I have the perfect Smurfette costume and I've only had a chance to wear it once.
Person B: Ah well, next year we'll be more proactive. You know, like they do in America.
Person A: Yeah, next year we'll dress up as something awesome.
And the following year? We don't do anything different, we even have the exact same conversation again.
And as for trick or treaters? I haven't even bought any sweets tonight. I don't usually get any people knocking on my door and if in case there are any, I tend to watch Tv quietly in a darkened house and ignore the doorbell. It usually works... I mean they're some stranger's kids, they're not to know I don't have a life.
Also I think the concept of trick or treating is a little lost to us. We tend to appear slightly baffled at the idea of dressing our kids up, telling them to go against everything that we have taught them and to actually knock on a stranger's door and ask them for sweets.
As such, the only trick or treaters that do go out usually only venture to the houses of people they know so as to ensure that none of their kids end up eating a sweet full of poison or heavy sedatives.
And that, is how I know Halloween.
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 31 October 2011
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Actually darling, it's magenta.
There are definitely the extremes in people at my work. Just last week I talked about how ghetto my work side of London was but there are the extreme exceptions to this. A small group of people who walk the halls of my hospital definitely do not classify as "ghetto."
These people are known as the medical students.
Sitting at the bus stop I was privy to this beaut of a conversation today between a male and female medical student.
Female: Oh wow, I love your purple scarf.
Male: It's actually magenta. I got it at this quaint little shop. I liked it, it was so retro and I thought to myself, no one wears these kinds of scarves anymore so why not bring it back into fashion?
Female Oh I love it, it really suits you. Listen I've been meaning to introduce you to my friend. Toby, come over here, let me introduce you to [alas I didn't catch the name].
Toby: Hi, nice to meet you. Whereabouts are you in your studies?
Male: Well I have a PHD in (grimaces) Nuclear Chemistry. But I'm working my way onto a more medicinal route.
Toby: Oh I see, how interesting.
Female: Toby, have you seen his scarf? Isn't it lovely?
Toby: I was just thinking how nice that scarf was.
Male: Thanks, I was just saying I got it in this quaint little shop. I just love the colour magenta and no one wears that anymore, you know?
And this was where I had to leave them and get on the bus. Ah, I do love it when I meet people that make me seem common in comparison. There's hope for me in the ghetto world yet!
Peace out my lovelies.
These people are known as the medical students.
Sitting at the bus stop I was privy to this beaut of a conversation today between a male and female medical student.
Female: Oh wow, I love your purple scarf.
Male: It's actually magenta. I got it at this quaint little shop. I liked it, it was so retro and I thought to myself, no one wears these kinds of scarves anymore so why not bring it back into fashion?
Female Oh I love it, it really suits you. Listen I've been meaning to introduce you to my friend. Toby, come over here, let me introduce you to [alas I didn't catch the name].
Toby: Hi, nice to meet you. Whereabouts are you in your studies?
Male: Well I have a PHD in (grimaces) Nuclear Chemistry. But I'm working my way onto a more medicinal route.
Toby: Oh I see, how interesting.
Female: Toby, have you seen his scarf? Isn't it lovely?
Toby: I was just thinking how nice that scarf was.
Male: Thanks, I was just saying I got it in this quaint little shop. I just love the colour magenta and no one wears that anymore, you know?
And this was where I had to leave them and get on the bus. Ah, I do love it when I meet people that make me seem common in comparison. There's hope for me in the ghetto world yet!
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 24 October 2011
Seriously immune system... You suck.
I'm sick. Again. I know. This is something that happens all the time. I'm beginning to lose patience with the scientists I have working on my immune system transplant. I'm going to have to insist on punishing them if they continue to slack in this way.
The problem is I don't just the get the occasional cold. No, when I get a cold my body goes all out: sensitive skin, shivers followed by sweats. Closed up throat that causes me to want to be sick every time I swallow. Oh, and in the case of today, the ability to almost fall asleep in a persons office whilst waiting for them. Yeah, that was the point today where I decided I should probably go home.
My reason for getting this cold? I cleaned my house. I know how ridiculous it sounds but here were the series of events that led to my current state:
Saturday morning I woke up bright and cheerful... Well as bright and cheerful as my 'non-morning-person' self can be. I crashed out on the sofa and caught up on my sky+ box recordings and inwardly praised myself for getting into so many tv shows all at once.
The important thing is, I felt fine. I was happy and content.
However, at half one I realised that I have exactly 2 hours until people were going to be turning up at my flat to look at renting it. I then did something I had been avoiding to do for the whole year I had been there. I cleaned. I cleaned like I had never cleaned before. I spent two hours throwing stuff away, bleaching surfaces, scrubbing dishes and chucking clothes into drawers.
However, about an hour into the whole thing I started to sneeze. Assuming it was just the dust I continued. I then sneezed a few more times.
Once I had finished I had noticed that the phantom space where my tonsils used to be three years ago before I had them removed, had started to swell.
I took a huge gulp (and immediately regretted it as it had hurt like a bitch) and realised what this meant. One thing that I have notice since I viciously ripped my tonsils from throat is that two days before I have a heavy cold the ghost of my tonsil comes back to my throat and swells up. It is an omen that I have some inconvenient and highly medicated days ahead.
And sure enough, the next day I spent sneezing and today? Well let's just say that if I were a man then I would assume I was dying right now.
This was summed up by the following conversation between myself and Work-Buddy-James.
Work-Buddy-James has been shortened to WBJ
Me: I'm going to go home soon. I think I've got man-flu.
WBJ: What??? Really?? What the hell are you doing at work if you have man flu??
Me: I thought I could handle it.
WBJ: Handle it?? Lisa! No one can handle man flu. It's simply the worse thing that you can get... You have called for an ambulance right?
Me: No not yet, why? Do you think I need to?
WBJ: The fact that you're even asking that question just shows how delirious you've become. (Pause) How did you even catch man flu anyway? You're not even a man.
Me: ... there's a chance that it might just be a heavy cold.
WBJ: It's hypochondriacs like yourself who detract from the need of those truly sick. I hope you're ashamed of yourself.
I have given up convincing myself that I am fine finally and am now on my way home from work, longing for the moment when I get curl under my duvet and spend the rest of the evening feeling sorry for myself.
Guys, if this isn't proof that I can't to housework due to being highly allergic to it I don't know what is.
Peace out my lovelies.
The problem is I don't just the get the occasional cold. No, when I get a cold my body goes all out: sensitive skin, shivers followed by sweats. Closed up throat that causes me to want to be sick every time I swallow. Oh, and in the case of today, the ability to almost fall asleep in a persons office whilst waiting for them. Yeah, that was the point today where I decided I should probably go home.
My reason for getting this cold? I cleaned my house. I know how ridiculous it sounds but here were the series of events that led to my current state:
Saturday morning I woke up bright and cheerful... Well as bright and cheerful as my 'non-morning-person' self can be. I crashed out on the sofa and caught up on my sky+ box recordings and inwardly praised myself for getting into so many tv shows all at once.
The important thing is, I felt fine. I was happy and content.
However, at half one I realised that I have exactly 2 hours until people were going to be turning up at my flat to look at renting it. I then did something I had been avoiding to do for the whole year I had been there. I cleaned. I cleaned like I had never cleaned before. I spent two hours throwing stuff away, bleaching surfaces, scrubbing dishes and chucking clothes into drawers.
However, about an hour into the whole thing I started to sneeze. Assuming it was just the dust I continued. I then sneezed a few more times.
Once I had finished I had noticed that the phantom space where my tonsils used to be three years ago before I had them removed, had started to swell.
I took a huge gulp (and immediately regretted it as it had hurt like a bitch) and realised what this meant. One thing that I have notice since I viciously ripped my tonsils from throat is that two days before I have a heavy cold the ghost of my tonsil comes back to my throat and swells up. It is an omen that I have some inconvenient and highly medicated days ahead.
And sure enough, the next day I spent sneezing and today? Well let's just say that if I were a man then I would assume I was dying right now.
This was summed up by the following conversation between myself and Work-Buddy-James.
Work-Buddy-James has been shortened to WBJ
Me: I'm going to go home soon. I think I've got man-flu.
WBJ: What??? Really?? What the hell are you doing at work if you have man flu??
Me: I thought I could handle it.
WBJ: Handle it?? Lisa! No one can handle man flu. It's simply the worse thing that you can get... You have called for an ambulance right?
Me: No not yet, why? Do you think I need to?
WBJ: The fact that you're even asking that question just shows how delirious you've become. (Pause) How did you even catch man flu anyway? You're not even a man.
Me: ... there's a chance that it might just be a heavy cold.
WBJ: It's hypochondriacs like yourself who detract from the need of those truly sick. I hope you're ashamed of yourself.
I have given up convincing myself that I am fine finally and am now on my way home from work, longing for the moment when I get curl under my duvet and spend the rest of the evening feeling sorry for myself.
Guys, if this isn't proof that I can't to housework due to being highly allergic to it I don't know what is.
Peace out my lovelies.
Friday, 21 October 2011
Your guide to surviving the inevitable apocalypse.
Line-Manager-Monica and I have ever so slightly OD'ed on coffee today. Come 3pm onwards we have both been twitchy and overactive.
Work has actually benefited from this as I have been working at double the speed I usually do, however I am now trying very hard to slow my heartbeat back down before I go into cardiac arrest.
On the plus side, the apocalypse failed to happen today. So congrats people! We get to live another day!
To those who weren't even aware that the apocalypse was due to happen this morning:
A: Where have you been this week in terms of the internet?
B: You really should learn to be a little more informed and prepared, I mean it is the end of the world we are talking about.
So with that in mind I feel it is my duty to inform you the next set date for the apocalypse to hit the earth is apparently 11th November 2011.
For those of you who are rolling your eyes right now and muttering "another date? When will the religious extremists get a clue and realise that there is no point in guessing when this day will happen because they only look stupid when it turns out to be another typically boring day?" I say in reply... Judging by the previous experiences of these guesses you are almost certainly right but just ask yourself the question... What if this time you're wrong?
This is how I choose to look at each apocalypse prediction. Chances are we will likely live to a ripe old age or die prematurely from some accident/disease of some kind, but when someone suggests otherwise and gives me a date to aim for I can't help but begin to prepare.
So how does one prepare for an Apocalypse?
Well first off it's probably best to work out which side of the fence you will likely end up on when the day comes, be it firey or fluffy.
If firey might I suggest investing in some sunglasses, heat resistant jump suits and one of those hand held electric fans that also squirts water... Also a lot of batteries to continue to operate said fan.
It might be advisable to grab yourself some E45 cream and aloe Vera as well as a first aid kit with a lot of bandages and general dressings in the event that you do come into contact with the never-ending flames that threaten to engulf you for eternity.
I'm not too sure what the currency will be down there to buy yourself favours should you need it but I would advise against taking things like matches, lighters, hay, aerosol sprays... Basically anything that produces fire or is highly flammable will turn out to be pretty redundant when you arrive. You might have more luck with portable coolers, air conditioning units, a map showing the way out of hell... You know, useful things like that.
It could also be useful to associate yourself with other people you are certain will be going to hell as well... I won't make suggestions here as they are all far too predictable but all I will say is that you all know at least 9 or 10 people in your area who you need to start being chummy with. Go forth and make frenemies. I obviously don't need to tell you that the more evil the better as they will probably have more standing in the afterlife and therefore give you the social class you need to stop yourself from being as horribly mutated as some of the lower "unprepared" people.
The rest, such as food and sleep and bathing and whatnot I'm afraid is a little unclear to me as to whether they will be important or not once you are dead. But just in case, bring lots of marshmallows, a frying pan, a large knife to cut up all the evil animals who have been transported there, some flame resistant sleeping bags, and a lot of ice to cool down the almost certainly boiling water that will be awaiting in your bath.
Providing you have all of this available to you then I shouldn't foresee any problems with your future eternity. Good luck and remember the boy scout way ... "Be Prepared!"
If you know you are going to heaven then... I can't imagine that there is much you should need to do, just practice your curtseys and bows, buy some decent pastel coloured clothes and work on decent conversations to have with the likes of angels and Jesus. Actually, probably best to spend a lot of time on that, last thing you want to do is appear boring and have them change their mind.
Might I suggest working on some cloud and heaven related jokes. Oldest-Friend-Cafrin came up with an awesome one when we were 14... I'm surprised she didn't become a comedian with this wit.
Why do clouds float?
Because they don't have legs.
I know. Now that's being prepared... However you should all come up with your own ideas as well, as the angels might start to get bored with that one after the 1001st time of hearing it.
It also might be advisable to learn to play the harp. Also, if you are afraid of heights, I would go and see an therapist now because that shizzle might ruin your whole experience.
For everyone who wants to get an idea of what heaven and hell might be like, there are plenty of visual aids to choose from. A few suggestions are:
1. What dreams may come (movie)
2. The lovely bones (movie)
3. Supernatural (series: particularly season 4 onwards)
4: Bill and Ted's bogus Journey
There is also some reading literature that might help such as:
1. The lovely bones (better reference than the film)
2. The bible
3. Any other religious reference book (especially those with the words heaven or hell in the title).
All in all there is plenty that you should be doing to prepare yourself and less than a month in which to do it in.
If you're still acting all pessimistic about the whole ordeal then don't start grumbling the moment you find yourself consumed with fire and without aloe Vera or face to face with an angel and without a thing to say...
Peace out my lovelies and have an awesome weekend.
Work has actually benefited from this as I have been working at double the speed I usually do, however I am now trying very hard to slow my heartbeat back down before I go into cardiac arrest.
On the plus side, the apocalypse failed to happen today. So congrats people! We get to live another day!
To those who weren't even aware that the apocalypse was due to happen this morning:
A: Where have you been this week in terms of the internet?
B: You really should learn to be a little more informed and prepared, I mean it is the end of the world we are talking about.
So with that in mind I feel it is my duty to inform you the next set date for the apocalypse to hit the earth is apparently 11th November 2011.
For those of you who are rolling your eyes right now and muttering "another date? When will the religious extremists get a clue and realise that there is no point in guessing when this day will happen because they only look stupid when it turns out to be another typically boring day?" I say in reply... Judging by the previous experiences of these guesses you are almost certainly right but just ask yourself the question... What if this time you're wrong?
This is how I choose to look at each apocalypse prediction. Chances are we will likely live to a ripe old age or die prematurely from some accident/disease of some kind, but when someone suggests otherwise and gives me a date to aim for I can't help but begin to prepare.
So how does one prepare for an Apocalypse?
Well first off it's probably best to work out which side of the fence you will likely end up on when the day comes, be it firey or fluffy.
If firey might I suggest investing in some sunglasses, heat resistant jump suits and one of those hand held electric fans that also squirts water... Also a lot of batteries to continue to operate said fan.
It might be advisable to grab yourself some E45 cream and aloe Vera as well as a first aid kit with a lot of bandages and general dressings in the event that you do come into contact with the never-ending flames that threaten to engulf you for eternity.
I'm not too sure what the currency will be down there to buy yourself favours should you need it but I would advise against taking things like matches, lighters, hay, aerosol sprays... Basically anything that produces fire or is highly flammable will turn out to be pretty redundant when you arrive. You might have more luck with portable coolers, air conditioning units, a map showing the way out of hell... You know, useful things like that.
It could also be useful to associate yourself with other people you are certain will be going to hell as well... I won't make suggestions here as they are all far too predictable but all I will say is that you all know at least 9 or 10 people in your area who you need to start being chummy with. Go forth and make frenemies. I obviously don't need to tell you that the more evil the better as they will probably have more standing in the afterlife and therefore give you the social class you need to stop yourself from being as horribly mutated as some of the lower "unprepared" people.
The rest, such as food and sleep and bathing and whatnot I'm afraid is a little unclear to me as to whether they will be important or not once you are dead. But just in case, bring lots of marshmallows, a frying pan, a large knife to cut up all the evil animals who have been transported there, some flame resistant sleeping bags, and a lot of ice to cool down the almost certainly boiling water that will be awaiting in your bath.
Providing you have all of this available to you then I shouldn't foresee any problems with your future eternity. Good luck and remember the boy scout way ... "Be Prepared!"
If you know you are going to heaven then... I can't imagine that there is much you should need to do, just practice your curtseys and bows, buy some decent pastel coloured clothes and work on decent conversations to have with the likes of angels and Jesus. Actually, probably best to spend a lot of time on that, last thing you want to do is appear boring and have them change their mind.
Might I suggest working on some cloud and heaven related jokes. Oldest-Friend-Cafrin came up with an awesome one when we were 14... I'm surprised she didn't become a comedian with this wit.
Why do clouds float?
Because they don't have legs.
I know. Now that's being prepared... However you should all come up with your own ideas as well, as the angels might start to get bored with that one after the 1001st time of hearing it.
It also might be advisable to learn to play the harp. Also, if you are afraid of heights, I would go and see an therapist now because that shizzle might ruin your whole experience.
For everyone who wants to get an idea of what heaven and hell might be like, there are plenty of visual aids to choose from. A few suggestions are:
1. What dreams may come (movie)
2. The lovely bones (movie)
3. Supernatural (series: particularly season 4 onwards)
4: Bill and Ted's bogus Journey
There is also some reading literature that might help such as:
1. The lovely bones (better reference than the film)
2. The bible
3. Any other religious reference book (especially those with the words heaven or hell in the title).
All in all there is plenty that you should be doing to prepare yourself and less than a month in which to do it in.
If you're still acting all pessimistic about the whole ordeal then don't start grumbling the moment you find yourself consumed with fire and without aloe Vera or face to face with an angel and without a thing to say...
Peace out my lovelies and have an awesome weekend.
Thursday, 20 October 2011
There are some times when manners and general politeness are necessary, sometimes they are nice to have, and sometimes they lead to possible stalker/kidnapping incidents.
Whilst writing yesterday's blog on the way home from work, I was actually going through my own little drama. I had never been so glad that I had something as long and complex as the post I wrote yesterday to distract me. Here are my series of events for my journey home.
Just after 7 I got on a bus to take the first stretch of my journey home. There were lots of seats to choose from so I picked a nice window seat on the top deck and settled down to write my blog.
Shortly after I sat down, a guy came up the stairs and chose the seat next to me. I remember thinking this was weird as I was almost certain that there were plenty of available seats not so close but I chose to ignore it and continued tapping away on my phone.
The guy (who I shall call Brad) made two phone calls and then put his phone away. At this point I made the mistake of looking up at him. The moment I saw he was looking back at me I went back to my phone, trying desperately to tune him out. I thought I had been successful until I heard his voice.
"Hi."
Convinced that if I continued to not acknowledge him it would mean that the word hadn't been meant for me.
"Hi."
Crap. It didn't work and if I ignored him once more I would just have been being rude. As such I looked at him, smiled my weakest and strained smile and said "Hi" back.
"You work at the hospital don't you?" He asked.
"Yeah," I said. "The mental health hospital though."
"I thought so," He said, "I work in the hospital too, in the kitchen. I thought I recognised you."
"Oh." I said, not having a single clue who this guy was.
"I've been wondering where you've been, I haven't seen you for a couple of weeks now."
"Huh." I said, I was pretty sure I had never seen this guy in my entire life, let alone two weeks ago.
I shifted my gaze back to my phone, hoping that that was the end of that conversation.
"Do you live nearby?" He asked.
I smiled at this question. I didn't live nearby. Due to this, any unwanted attention I might get always fizzled away when I said this.
"No, I don't." I said. "I live on the other side of London."
"Oh?" He asked, clearly not fazed. "Whereabouts?"
"It's far," I said.
"Where exactly?"
I faltered, warning bells started to ring.
"Enfield." I said.
"Oh! That's really close to me! I live in Edmonton!" (For those of you who don't know, Edmonton is a short bus journey away from me).
"Huh." I said, officially wishing I had waited for another bus.
"So you must get on the train at the station coming up." Brad continued, oblivious to my disinterest.
"Yeah," I sighed.
"So do I! We can ride together."
I smiled weakly and didn't respond, shooting my eyes desperately back to my phone.
When it came to get off the bus, he went ahead of me and I allowed several people to go in front of me so as to tactfully put some distance between us and throw him a hint. Obviously this did not work because when I eventually left the bus he was standing there waiting for me. I tried my best not to roll my eyes and walked with him into the station.
We got onto the train and for one blissful moment I thought someone was going to sit on the seat next to me but she changed her mind at the last moment and left it open for Brad to take.
Brad sat next to me, trying to gain as much physical connection as possible. So much so he was practically leaning against me. I went back to my phone the moment I sat down, praying that he would get off the train soon.
"You're so beautiful." He said.
My stomach sank.
"Are you getting off at the next stop like me?" He asked.
I practically danced inside. I wasn't.
"Nope, I stay on the train, well it was nice meeting you."
"Really?" He said. "Well if you live so near me then maybe I should take your route home. It might be quicker."
Damn it.
"I wouldn't think so, it takes an hour and a half."
"Wow! That's better than mine, it takes me two hours."
Crap.
"It would be longer for you because the train I take doesn't go near Edmonton."
"I don't care," he said. "You're worth the detour."
"I really think you'd be better off going your usual way."
"Don't you understand? I want to go your way. It would be good for me to see a new way home and even better if I could travel it with you."
I start to panic, the stop he should get off comes and goes. Brad's still on the train.
"So which stop are we getting off at?" He asked.
"I think you should get off at the one before I do, that station has a train that will take you straight to Edmonton." I offer, desperation beginning to become evident in my tone.
"Why would I do that when I get to travel with you?"
It was at this point where the voice in my head was saying "because I don't like you and find you weird and stalkerish and would like you to disappear." What I actually said however was:
"There isn't an easy way to get to Edmonton from the train station I get off."
"I'm sure you can guide me to the nearest bus."
I said nothing and chose to ignore him instead.
"You are so beautiful."
"I have a boyfriend!" I blurted the lie out with as much confidence as I could muster.
"So?" Brad said. "I'm not interested like that, I just want to be good friends, I enjoy your company."
"Huh." I repeated. In my head the same sentence repeated over and over. Your photo's going to be on the news tomorrow. Your photo's going to be on the news tomorrow. Your photo's going to be on the news tomorrow.
As we neared the station that I had suggested he should take he turned to me.
"Can I have your number?"
"No." I said, inwardly congratulating me on my newly found balls.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to give it to you."
"Go on, we can chat and get to know each other."
"I'm really not going to give you my phone number, sorry."
"So you're telling me that if I were to go out of my way to travel home with you, you wouldn't even give me your number?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, well I might as well get off at this stop."
I actually felt like crying with relief.
"I think that's best."
"Can I meet you at the bus stop tomorrow?"
"No, I don't usually get the bus at this time."
"Can I see you tomorrow?"
"If you happen to bump into me in the corridor then okay but otherwise no."
"Are you sure I can't have your number so we can organise to meet?"
"No."
"Okay, well it was nice meeting you."
"Mmmm." I said and then watched him get off the train.
I went into work today, told Line-Manager-Monica, she marched into the kitchen to find the man and tell him to stop stalking her employees and found out that there was no one in the kitchen who worked there that fitted my description.
I don't know whether to be relieved or more freaked out.
Peace out my lovelies.
Just after 7 I got on a bus to take the first stretch of my journey home. There were lots of seats to choose from so I picked a nice window seat on the top deck and settled down to write my blog.
Shortly after I sat down, a guy came up the stairs and chose the seat next to me. I remember thinking this was weird as I was almost certain that there were plenty of available seats not so close but I chose to ignore it and continued tapping away on my phone.
The guy (who I shall call Brad) made two phone calls and then put his phone away. At this point I made the mistake of looking up at him. The moment I saw he was looking back at me I went back to my phone, trying desperately to tune him out. I thought I had been successful until I heard his voice.
"Hi."
Convinced that if I continued to not acknowledge him it would mean that the word hadn't been meant for me.
"Hi."
Crap. It didn't work and if I ignored him once more I would just have been being rude. As such I looked at him, smiled my weakest and strained smile and said "Hi" back.
"You work at the hospital don't you?" He asked.
"Yeah," I said. "The mental health hospital though."
"I thought so," He said, "I work in the hospital too, in the kitchen. I thought I recognised you."
"Oh." I said, not having a single clue who this guy was.
"I've been wondering where you've been, I haven't seen you for a couple of weeks now."
"Huh." I said, I was pretty sure I had never seen this guy in my entire life, let alone two weeks ago.
I shifted my gaze back to my phone, hoping that that was the end of that conversation.
"Do you live nearby?" He asked.
I smiled at this question. I didn't live nearby. Due to this, any unwanted attention I might get always fizzled away when I said this.
"No, I don't." I said. "I live on the other side of London."
"Oh?" He asked, clearly not fazed. "Whereabouts?"
"It's far," I said.
"Where exactly?"
I faltered, warning bells started to ring.
"Enfield." I said.
"Oh! That's really close to me! I live in Edmonton!" (For those of you who don't know, Edmonton is a short bus journey away from me).
"Huh." I said, officially wishing I had waited for another bus.
"So you must get on the train at the station coming up." Brad continued, oblivious to my disinterest.
"Yeah," I sighed.
"So do I! We can ride together."
I smiled weakly and didn't respond, shooting my eyes desperately back to my phone.
When it came to get off the bus, he went ahead of me and I allowed several people to go in front of me so as to tactfully put some distance between us and throw him a hint. Obviously this did not work because when I eventually left the bus he was standing there waiting for me. I tried my best not to roll my eyes and walked with him into the station.
We got onto the train and for one blissful moment I thought someone was going to sit on the seat next to me but she changed her mind at the last moment and left it open for Brad to take.
Brad sat next to me, trying to gain as much physical connection as possible. So much so he was practically leaning against me. I went back to my phone the moment I sat down, praying that he would get off the train soon.
"You're so beautiful." He said.
My stomach sank.
"Are you getting off at the next stop like me?" He asked.
I practically danced inside. I wasn't.
"Nope, I stay on the train, well it was nice meeting you."
"Really?" He said. "Well if you live so near me then maybe I should take your route home. It might be quicker."
Damn it.
"I wouldn't think so, it takes an hour and a half."
"Wow! That's better than mine, it takes me two hours."
Crap.
"It would be longer for you because the train I take doesn't go near Edmonton."
"I don't care," he said. "You're worth the detour."
"I really think you'd be better off going your usual way."
"Don't you understand? I want to go your way. It would be good for me to see a new way home and even better if I could travel it with you."
I start to panic, the stop he should get off comes and goes. Brad's still on the train.
"So which stop are we getting off at?" He asked.
"I think you should get off at the one before I do, that station has a train that will take you straight to Edmonton." I offer, desperation beginning to become evident in my tone.
"Why would I do that when I get to travel with you?"
It was at this point where the voice in my head was saying "because I don't like you and find you weird and stalkerish and would like you to disappear." What I actually said however was:
"There isn't an easy way to get to Edmonton from the train station I get off."
"I'm sure you can guide me to the nearest bus."
I said nothing and chose to ignore him instead.
"You are so beautiful."
"I have a boyfriend!" I blurted the lie out with as much confidence as I could muster.
"So?" Brad said. "I'm not interested like that, I just want to be good friends, I enjoy your company."
"Huh." I repeated. In my head the same sentence repeated over and over. Your photo's going to be on the news tomorrow. Your photo's going to be on the news tomorrow. Your photo's going to be on the news tomorrow.
As we neared the station that I had suggested he should take he turned to me.
"Can I have your number?"
"No." I said, inwardly congratulating me on my newly found balls.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to give it to you."
"Go on, we can chat and get to know each other."
"I'm really not going to give you my phone number, sorry."
"So you're telling me that if I were to go out of my way to travel home with you, you wouldn't even give me your number?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, well I might as well get off at this stop."
I actually felt like crying with relief.
"I think that's best."
"Can I meet you at the bus stop tomorrow?"
"No, I don't usually get the bus at this time."
"Can I see you tomorrow?"
"If you happen to bump into me in the corridor then okay but otherwise no."
"Are you sure I can't have your number so we can organise to meet?"
"No."
"Okay, well it was nice meeting you."
"Mmmm." I said and then watched him get off the train.
I went into work today, told Line-Manager-Monica, she marched into the kitchen to find the man and tell him to stop stalking her employees and found out that there was no one in the kitchen who worked there that fitted my description.
I don't know whether to be relieved or more freaked out.
Peace out my lovelies.
Wednesday, 19 October 2011
A Letting Agent we certainly will not be seeing again.
Last Saturday both Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey and I contributed to our flat hunt with organising one showing each. Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey provided us with the perfect flat. I, on the other hand, provided us with an introduction to what we will soon learn to be the worst letting agent we have ever met.
It started last Saturday with me finding my phone at half one on silent with 3 missed calls and 1 voicemail. I listened to the voicemail which was a letting agent we shall name (for reasons that I don't want to appear to be a bitch) Jeff. Jeff stated that he needed to hear from me before 1:00pm to confirm the (previously confirmed) showing for today's possible flat or else the tenant wasn't going to let us in.
I rang Jeff and explained to him that I had only just picked up my messages but that I was still interested in viewing the flat. Jeff told me that the tenant was one of the most awkward tenants he had dealt with and that he was demanding that I confirmed my viewing. I felt sorry for Jeff at this point because he seemed stuck in the middle of a difficult situation. He told me that he would call the tenant back and let me know if it's still okay.
Five minutes later I get another phone call from Jeff. He couldn't get through to the tenant so the showing had to be cancelled. However he had just had a new flat open up right in Enfield town in a block of flats that would give us a spacious balcony, climate control, our very own concierge and all of this situated above a gym. Naturally I agreed to see this as I saw it to be the perfect excuse to practice our "Daddy's little girl" game.
He hung up again and went to organise a viewing for this one. Five minutes later he called and said that this wasn't going to be available for today but that he could do the showing after work on Tuesday. As I didn't get home from work until late, he offered to pick me up from the station so that we could get there before 7 as that was when the concierge went home. I agreed and went off to view the flat Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey had picked out for us.
Whilst we were there Jeff called me again. This time he had managed to get in touch with the tenant for the original viewing and they had said we could come if we came now. I explained that we were looking at another place at the moment but we could be there in half an hour. He agreed and said he would meet us outside the flat. He asked if I knew the address, I said I didn't remember it so he said he would text me the details.
We viewed the flat we were in and I waited patiently for my text to come through. Nothing did. We left the flat and got into the car. Still no text. I suddenly remembered that I had written the address down and put it in my bag earlier in the week so I dug the address out and we head to the next viewing.
We sat outside the house for twenty minutes. No one came.
I rang the letting agents and spoke to Jeff's colleague "Bob." I asked Bob where Jeff was, Bob said he would ring Jeff to find out.
We sat outside the house another ten minutes. No one came or rang.
I rang Bob again and said that we needed to go as we had been waiting too long. Bob told me that he had tried ringing Jeff three times but hadn't got an answer because Jeff was apparently doing an assessment right then. He commented that he had seen in the book our viewing had been rescheduled to Tuesday night so we shouldn't be there at the moment. I explained to him (rather calmly I felt) the situation, to which he simply mumbled something about not being sure what was going on. I told him we had to leave and he became very apologetic and promised that he would get Jeff to ring me the moment he got back to apologise himself and confirm the viewing for Tuesday.
Jeff never rang.
Tuesday came about and I thought "better safe than sorry" so I called the letting agents to confirm that our showing that evening was still going ahead (considering I hadn't heard from them as promised I was, as you can imagine, just a little bit concerned). I spoke to Bob and I asked him to confirm our viewing. Bob checked the diary and confirmed we would be meeting at the location. I mentioned that Jeff had previously said he would pick me up from the station, Bob was adamant that the diary said "at the location" so that was where we were meant to meet. I didn't argue. I mean if it was in the diary then of course we mustn't dispute it. Who knows? the world might end.
I set off from work stupidly on time so as to ensure I could get to the location (as per the 'set in stone' arrangement) by quarter to 7 and snuggled in for my train journey home.
At about 6pm I received a phone call from Jeff! I answered expecting to hear apologies and explanations for the no show on Saturday. However I received a rather scripted phone call where he asked me to confirm our showing today. I told him that we would be there, just as I had said a couple of hours ago when I I had run them. Jeff became quite gruffly (totally a word) at this point and demanded to know who I had spoken to as he had not got the message. I told him Bob and he replied with, "Okay, make sure you're at the address on time because otherwise we won't be allowed in." Thinking that my punctuality didn't seem to be the factor so far I sighed and said "okay" before hanging up.
Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey, her boyfriend Karl and I met promptly at quarter to 7.
We waited. No one showed.
Five minutes later (after we had decided to wait inside instead) he turned up and showed us the place. He showed us around, once more without a single mention regarding the fact that he stood us up on Saturday. The flat was beautiful and "Daddy would have loved it darling." Although in reality it was a little out of our price range.
Today I get a phone call. The number on my phone tells me it will either be Jeff or Bob. I prepare myself mentally and answer.
Me: Hello?
Jeff: Hi, is that Miss Harries?
Me: Yup.
Jeff: Are you still looking for a property in Enfield town Miss Harries?
Me: (Thinks to herself that surely that was a stupid question as he had only seen us 8 hours ago) Yep, still looking.
Jeff: Well then you're in luck because we've just had a new property open itself up at a block of flats called Tower Point right next to Enfield Town.
Me: ... You're kidding right?
Jeff: I'm sorry?
Me: You can't seriously be talking about the same flat that you showed us last night right?
Jeff: *And this is genuinely what he said.* Oh, have you already seen the flat then?
Me: Yes... With you... eight hours ago.
Jeff: Oh! Was that you? Oh okay, well then we haven't had anything new but I'll be sure to let you know when you do.
Me: You do that. hangs up the phone and rings Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey Annabel? Whatever we do we must make a pact now. We are never going to get a place from anyone named Jeff or Bob.
And that is my loong version of events from my flat hunting. If you're still with me, well done! You get a sticker of your choice.
Peace out my lovelies.
It started last Saturday with me finding my phone at half one on silent with 3 missed calls and 1 voicemail. I listened to the voicemail which was a letting agent we shall name (for reasons that I don't want to appear to be a bitch) Jeff. Jeff stated that he needed to hear from me before 1:00pm to confirm the (previously confirmed) showing for today's possible flat or else the tenant wasn't going to let us in.
I rang Jeff and explained to him that I had only just picked up my messages but that I was still interested in viewing the flat. Jeff told me that the tenant was one of the most awkward tenants he had dealt with and that he was demanding that I confirmed my viewing. I felt sorry for Jeff at this point because he seemed stuck in the middle of a difficult situation. He told me that he would call the tenant back and let me know if it's still okay.
Five minutes later I get another phone call from Jeff. He couldn't get through to the tenant so the showing had to be cancelled. However he had just had a new flat open up right in Enfield town in a block of flats that would give us a spacious balcony, climate control, our very own concierge and all of this situated above a gym. Naturally I agreed to see this as I saw it to be the perfect excuse to practice our "Daddy's little girl" game.
He hung up again and went to organise a viewing for this one. Five minutes later he called and said that this wasn't going to be available for today but that he could do the showing after work on Tuesday. As I didn't get home from work until late, he offered to pick me up from the station so that we could get there before 7 as that was when the concierge went home. I agreed and went off to view the flat Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey had picked out for us.
Whilst we were there Jeff called me again. This time he had managed to get in touch with the tenant for the original viewing and they had said we could come if we came now. I explained that we were looking at another place at the moment but we could be there in half an hour. He agreed and said he would meet us outside the flat. He asked if I knew the address, I said I didn't remember it so he said he would text me the details.
We viewed the flat we were in and I waited patiently for my text to come through. Nothing did. We left the flat and got into the car. Still no text. I suddenly remembered that I had written the address down and put it in my bag earlier in the week so I dug the address out and we head to the next viewing.
We sat outside the house for twenty minutes. No one came.
I rang the letting agents and spoke to Jeff's colleague "Bob." I asked Bob where Jeff was, Bob said he would ring Jeff to find out.
We sat outside the house another ten minutes. No one came or rang.
I rang Bob again and said that we needed to go as we had been waiting too long. Bob told me that he had tried ringing Jeff three times but hadn't got an answer because Jeff was apparently doing an assessment right then. He commented that he had seen in the book our viewing had been rescheduled to Tuesday night so we shouldn't be there at the moment. I explained to him (rather calmly I felt) the situation, to which he simply mumbled something about not being sure what was going on. I told him we had to leave and he became very apologetic and promised that he would get Jeff to ring me the moment he got back to apologise himself and confirm the viewing for Tuesday.
Jeff never rang.
Tuesday came about and I thought "better safe than sorry" so I called the letting agents to confirm that our showing that evening was still going ahead (considering I hadn't heard from them as promised I was, as you can imagine, just a little bit concerned). I spoke to Bob and I asked him to confirm our viewing. Bob checked the diary and confirmed we would be meeting at the location. I mentioned that Jeff had previously said he would pick me up from the station, Bob was adamant that the diary said "at the location" so that was where we were meant to meet. I didn't argue. I mean if it was in the diary then of course we mustn't dispute it. Who knows? the world might end.
I set off from work stupidly on time so as to ensure I could get to the location (as per the 'set in stone' arrangement) by quarter to 7 and snuggled in for my train journey home.
At about 6pm I received a phone call from Jeff! I answered expecting to hear apologies and explanations for the no show on Saturday. However I received a rather scripted phone call where he asked me to confirm our showing today. I told him that we would be there, just as I had said a couple of hours ago when I I had run them. Jeff became quite gruffly (totally a word) at this point and demanded to know who I had spoken to as he had not got the message. I told him Bob and he replied with, "Okay, make sure you're at the address on time because otherwise we won't be allowed in." Thinking that my punctuality didn't seem to be the factor so far I sighed and said "okay" before hanging up.
Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey, her boyfriend Karl and I met promptly at quarter to 7.
We waited. No one showed.
Five minutes later (after we had decided to wait inside instead) he turned up and showed us the place. He showed us around, once more without a single mention regarding the fact that he stood us up on Saturday. The flat was beautiful and "Daddy would have loved it darling." Although in reality it was a little out of our price range.
Today I get a phone call. The number on my phone tells me it will either be Jeff or Bob. I prepare myself mentally and answer.
Me: Hello?
Jeff: Hi, is that Miss Harries?
Me: Yup.
Jeff: Are you still looking for a property in Enfield town Miss Harries?
Me: (Thinks to herself that surely that was a stupid question as he had only seen us 8 hours ago) Yep, still looking.
Jeff: Well then you're in luck because we've just had a new property open itself up at a block of flats called Tower Point right next to Enfield Town.
Me: ... You're kidding right?
Jeff: I'm sorry?
Me: You can't seriously be talking about the same flat that you showed us last night right?
Jeff: *And this is genuinely what he said.* Oh, have you already seen the flat then?
Me: Yes... With you... eight hours ago.
Jeff: Oh! Was that you? Oh okay, well then we haven't had anything new but I'll be sure to let you know when you do.
Me: You do that. hangs up the phone and rings Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey Annabel? Whatever we do we must make a pact now. We are never going to get a place from anyone named Jeff or Bob.
And that is my loong version of events from my flat hunting. If you're still with me, well done! You get a sticker of your choice.
Peace out my lovelies.
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Friends who enable are friends for life.
I have awesome friends. It's my birthday next month and One-And-Only-Daniela and Oldest-Friend-Cafrin have both revealed to me their birthday presents for me. Both of them have completely embraced my highly geeky side and for that I love them.
Oldest-Friend-Cafrin text me a couple of weeks ago and told me to book two days off work the week after my birthday. Curious, I asked why and she informed me that she was taking me out to the cinema for my birthday.
Intrigued I inquired as to why a cinema trip would require me to book not just one but two days off work and that was when she told me... I appreciate what I'm about to tell you may cause my street cred and general coolness fall from the single digit it was in down into the minus figures but I don't care. It is my guilty pleasure and I love it.
Oldest-Friend-Cafrin has booked us in not only to see the latest Twilight movie "Breaking Dawn" but also, on the night leading up to it's release, a marathon of all the Twilight movies, scheduled in so that at 12:05am Breaking Dawn will be shown.
Guys, I am not a massive fan of Robert Pattinson, Kirsten Stewart tends to bug the hell out of me, and after the crappiness that was the film "Abduction" I have resigned myself to the fact that Taylor Lautner can't act, but when you throw all of this together? I have been known to geek out in a spectacular way that neither can be explained nor denied. I simply love watching those movies.
All of this is nothing however compared to the feeling I get when I get to watch one of those movies for the first time. Ah man, the excitement that bubbles up inside of me is immense. So the idea of a marathon followed by a brand new showing of a brand new film is so amazing that I probably will snog Oldest-Friend-Cafrin the moment that I see her (secretly I know that's why she picked this present, she was hoping for that reaction).
Today One-And-Only-Daniela revealed to me her birthday present. Again I felt warm in the knowledge that my friends not only get my geekdom but embrace it and enable it. This was the text conversation we had today.
One-And-Only-Daniela is shortened to OAOD.
OAOD: How much of a harry potter fan are u?
Me: Is that a trick question? I love the stuff. Why?
OAOD: Lol, as a bday present would you like to go on the harry potter tour that opens in march?
Me: Really? That would be awesome! What does it involve?/where is it? Thanks Daniela!!
OAOD: Its in Hogwarts, not sure where that is lol
Me: Oh.My.Days!!!! Are we going to platform 9 3/4???
OAOD: Its at the Warner Bros Studio in Hertfordshire. Did u get my email?
(I look at her email and click on the link to the tour website)
Me: Wow!! Dude I wanna go there now!!!!!!! I am so gonna make my own wand.
OAOD: Lol out of what?
Me: I will find myself the feather of a Phoenix tail and bark from a really old tree. Yes I am that awesome.
OAOD: Lol joka
Me: Don't worry. I'll make you one too.
And that, people, is why I love my friends.
Peace out my lovelies.
Oldest-Friend-Cafrin text me a couple of weeks ago and told me to book two days off work the week after my birthday. Curious, I asked why and she informed me that she was taking me out to the cinema for my birthday.
Intrigued I inquired as to why a cinema trip would require me to book not just one but two days off work and that was when she told me... I appreciate what I'm about to tell you may cause my street cred and general coolness fall from the single digit it was in down into the minus figures but I don't care. It is my guilty pleasure and I love it.
Oldest-Friend-Cafrin has booked us in not only to see the latest Twilight movie "Breaking Dawn" but also, on the night leading up to it's release, a marathon of all the Twilight movies, scheduled in so that at 12:05am Breaking Dawn will be shown.
Guys, I am not a massive fan of Robert Pattinson, Kirsten Stewart tends to bug the hell out of me, and after the crappiness that was the film "Abduction" I have resigned myself to the fact that Taylor Lautner can't act, but when you throw all of this together? I have been known to geek out in a spectacular way that neither can be explained nor denied. I simply love watching those movies.
All of this is nothing however compared to the feeling I get when I get to watch one of those movies for the first time. Ah man, the excitement that bubbles up inside of me is immense. So the idea of a marathon followed by a brand new showing of a brand new film is so amazing that I probably will snog Oldest-Friend-Cafrin the moment that I see her (secretly I know that's why she picked this present, she was hoping for that reaction).
Today One-And-Only-Daniela revealed to me her birthday present. Again I felt warm in the knowledge that my friends not only get my geekdom but embrace it and enable it. This was the text conversation we had today.
One-And-Only-Daniela is shortened to OAOD.
OAOD: How much of a harry potter fan are u?
Me: Is that a trick question? I love the stuff. Why?
OAOD: Lol, as a bday present would you like to go on the harry potter tour that opens in march?
Me: Really? That would be awesome! What does it involve?/where is it? Thanks Daniela!!
OAOD: Its in Hogwarts, not sure where that is lol
Me: Oh.My.Days!!!! Are we going to platform 9 3/4???
OAOD: Its at the Warner Bros Studio in Hertfordshire. Did u get my email?
(I look at her email and click on the link to the tour website)
Me: Wow!! Dude I wanna go there now!!!!!!! I am so gonna make my own wand.
OAOD: Lol out of what?
Me: I will find myself the feather of a Phoenix tail and bark from a really old tree. Yes I am that awesome.
OAOD: Lol joka
Me: Don't worry. I'll make you one too.
And that, people, is why I love my friends.
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 17 October 2011
Further more I am perfectly capable of copng with a completely new lifestyle. Providing it's exactly the same as the one I have now... or better.
Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey and I went to look at another flat on Saturday. We kinda fell in love with it. To say it was perfect might be just a little of an understatement. It was simply beautiful and most importantly cheap.
Within 2 minutes of being inside the flat we had already dubbed it our own and were ready to sign on the dotted line. As soon as I got back home I was on the phone to the letting agents, telling them how much we wanted the flat. Unfortunately however the woman I needed to talk to was not back until Monday so I held my breath and hoped (Not literally of course because then I would be writing this dead and I'm sure if that were the case it wouldn't have nearly as many words in it).
Leah-The-Letting-Agent rang me today and told me that the landlord had picked someone else. I sighed and text Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey. She sighed and said we'd just keep looking. If I'm honest we kinda guessed we wouldn't get it as he wanted someone in there now and we weren't available to move for a while.
Because of this I'm not too gutted about the whole thing but I am worried about the inevitable repercussions of this situation. You see, we've seen the perfect house. Now we know that we can get all of our dreams in an cheap and breezy package.
This means that from now on we will forever be comparing all viewings to this one. Whenever a flat has a room 5cm smaller or is asking for £50 a month more, I fear we will turn our nose up to it because we've seen. There are better things out there.
As such I predict that we may fall into such a pattern that the day before we are due to move out we still won't have anything so will resort to a bejazzled cardboard box with a trench out back for a toilet in a nearby stretch of green to our local train station.
Instead of showering we will rely on our countries wet weather, running outside with our soap and shampoo the moment it pours down. I think if we were there long enough we should be able to fashion some form of shower out of the local park's climbing frame, providing we could find a bucket with some holes in it...
Either that or, instead of paying rent, we spend our money on a gym membership and use the showers in there... Ooh I like! We could collect bricks from various construction sites and buy that really strong super glue from the local shop. Then slowly but surely we can build our own house.
Oh dude. I think I'm in love with this plan. Screw paying rent I'm going to suggest to Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey that we do this instead. That's just awesome. Excuse me while I go revel in my awesome idea.
Peace out my lovelies.
Within 2 minutes of being inside the flat we had already dubbed it our own and were ready to sign on the dotted line. As soon as I got back home I was on the phone to the letting agents, telling them how much we wanted the flat. Unfortunately however the woman I needed to talk to was not back until Monday so I held my breath and hoped (Not literally of course because then I would be writing this dead and I'm sure if that were the case it wouldn't have nearly as many words in it).
Leah-The-Letting-Agent rang me today and told me that the landlord had picked someone else. I sighed and text Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey. She sighed and said we'd just keep looking. If I'm honest we kinda guessed we wouldn't get it as he wanted someone in there now and we weren't available to move for a while.
Because of this I'm not too gutted about the whole thing but I am worried about the inevitable repercussions of this situation. You see, we've seen the perfect house. Now we know that we can get all of our dreams in an cheap and breezy package.
This means that from now on we will forever be comparing all viewings to this one. Whenever a flat has a room 5cm smaller or is asking for £50 a month more, I fear we will turn our nose up to it because we've seen. There are better things out there.
As such I predict that we may fall into such a pattern that the day before we are due to move out we still won't have anything so will resort to a bejazzled cardboard box with a trench out back for a toilet in a nearby stretch of green to our local train station.
Instead of showering we will rely on our countries wet weather, running outside with our soap and shampoo the moment it pours down. I think if we were there long enough we should be able to fashion some form of shower out of the local park's climbing frame, providing we could find a bucket with some holes in it...
Either that or, instead of paying rent, we spend our money on a gym membership and use the showers in there... Ooh I like! We could collect bricks from various construction sites and buy that really strong super glue from the local shop. Then slowly but surely we can build our own house.
Oh dude. I think I'm in love with this plan. Screw paying rent I'm going to suggest to Anna-(Nickname-TBC)-Tidey that we do this instead. That's just awesome. Excuse me while I go revel in my awesome idea.
Peace out my lovelies.
Friday, 14 October 2011
Imagine little versions of me... Go on, just imagine it. Are you scared or excited? No, I'm not sure how I feel about it either.
Work-Buddy-James had a baby on Wednesday night. Well not actually him but apparently he felt entirely knackered in watching his wife give birth. Not only that but the sandwich he was eating at the time wasn't even that nice so he was pretty put out by that.
Anywho today he sent me pictures of his new son and can I just say, this kid is beautiful. His wife is Chinese and he is a white ginger dude which, by the way, is an awesome combination to make kids with. So much so that I'm considering dying my hair red and finding me a Chinese man... Before you say it, of course that's the same thing.
Since seeing the magic that is a Chinese baby boy with blue eyes I have been wondering whether or not it's time for me to get one of those (not necessarily a Chinese baby but a baby nonetheless).
I reckon I'm at the right place in my life... I'm single, I'm young, and I could really do with the extra cash that comes with child support. I'm kidding. Having a baby solely for the purpose of getting money from the government is NOT a way to bring a child into the world... You've got to at least have 2 or 3 reasons that rank above that.
Nah, in all seriousness I'm okay on the baby front at the moment. Even if just purely looking at the sight of a baby today made my womb explode, that's just a crappy side effect of being a woman and stuff.
Yup. The joys of womanhood comes with bleeding several pints of blood a month and pining for the day where you can balloon to three times your size, go through immense pain for what could possibly last a week in some cases and then spend the next three years trying to get your figure back and lose the stretch marks that seem to be adamant to haunt you for the rest of your life. All this only to have your womb explode again the moment you have achieved said normal figure and you go through the whole experience again. This (in my case as I would ideally like six kids in all) will continue to happen until your body can't create babies anymore and has decided that the process of tightening up again afterwards isn't nearly as easy as it was before and so you are left with a saggier and altogether 'more loose' version of what you had once.
Wow, all this makes me sound like I am dead against kids. I really am not. I want loads of them and I can't wait until they permanently destroy my body.
Even now I'm making plans to adopt an Ethiopian kid with Kayla from Mike and Kayla. I mean what woman who didn't want kids would do that? I rest my case.
If anyone else has been left confused about my views on the topic of this post then you're not alone.
Peace out my lovelies.
Anywho today he sent me pictures of his new son and can I just say, this kid is beautiful. His wife is Chinese and he is a white ginger dude which, by the way, is an awesome combination to make kids with. So much so that I'm considering dying my hair red and finding me a Chinese man... Before you say it, of course that's the same thing.
Since seeing the magic that is a Chinese baby boy with blue eyes I have been wondering whether or not it's time for me to get one of those (not necessarily a Chinese baby but a baby nonetheless).
I reckon I'm at the right place in my life... I'm single, I'm young, and I could really do with the extra cash that comes with child support. I'm kidding. Having a baby solely for the purpose of getting money from the government is NOT a way to bring a child into the world... You've got to at least have 2 or 3 reasons that rank above that.
Nah, in all seriousness I'm okay on the baby front at the moment. Even if just purely looking at the sight of a baby today made my womb explode, that's just a crappy side effect of being a woman and stuff.
Yup. The joys of womanhood comes with bleeding several pints of blood a month and pining for the day where you can balloon to three times your size, go through immense pain for what could possibly last a week in some cases and then spend the next three years trying to get your figure back and lose the stretch marks that seem to be adamant to haunt you for the rest of your life. All this only to have your womb explode again the moment you have achieved said normal figure and you go through the whole experience again. This (in my case as I would ideally like six kids in all) will continue to happen until your body can't create babies anymore and has decided that the process of tightening up again afterwards isn't nearly as easy as it was before and so you are left with a saggier and altogether 'more loose' version of what you had once.
Wow, all this makes me sound like I am dead against kids. I really am not. I want loads of them and I can't wait until they permanently destroy my body.
Even now I'm making plans to adopt an Ethiopian kid with Kayla from Mike and Kayla. I mean what woman who didn't want kids would do that? I rest my case.
If anyone else has been left confused about my views on the topic of this post then you're not alone.
Peace out my lovelies.
Thursday, 13 October 2011
I'm well ghetto now though... innit bruv.
For those of you who are not from the London area and might not have understood my title at all it was roughly translated to: I am getting to be pretty street wise at the moment... Wouldn't you agree my friend?
I have been working in the east end of London for almost a year now and as such, due to my subconscious's tendency to mimic those around me I have caught myself speaking in a term that one might phrase as 'ghetto.' Of course, the problem arises as my face, body language and general way of presenting myself tends to give off the impression that I speak the way in which I am writing this message at the moment.
The result that you get is a middle class looking girl acting like she is "well ghetto and tings." As such I'm finding people are giving me the look of... "that white girl is trying to be street, she ain't foolin no one fam." Although having said that they do tend to be pretty encouraging of my colloquial talk and allow me to engage in conversation without too much scoffing. We all know however that I am in reality far too much of a wannabe to ever be cool enough to fully pull it off. Probably the fact that I call the language 'colloquial' pretty much aids my point.
There is a large part of me that wishes I had enough of my own accent that I didn't need to mimic those around me but as I have been moving around for pretty much the entire of my life I cannot help but try to adapt to my surroundings. Even if what I am doing is a highly poor attempt.
It is the same wherever I go, lead me to the west country where Father's family resides and I will suddenly speak in a manner that suggests I've been a farmer my entire life.
If I am back in Essex, talking to Oldest-Friend-Cafrin then you would think I was sporting a perfect example of any cast member from 'The only way is Essex.'
This is in my blood and not anything I can run away from. Whilst on the phone to Father today (who has been living in Scotland for a total of four months now) he informed me that he too had found himself succumbing to his local's way of speaking. He has begun to use the word "aye" instead of yes and "wee" instead of little. It is not something we can run away from... It's obviously in our genes.
So that being said I have decided to embrace the chameleon inside of me. Especially as I work in an office with Line-Manager-Monica and she is a very strong Jamaican woman. The accent that I have adapted around her has amused me to no end. She hasn't yet commented on it but she must have noticed... I fear it's only going to get worse until all traces of any previous accent are gone and people start to ask me why I would choose to leave the Caribbean to come to such a cold country.
I'm gonna go cotch and watch my shows and tings now though coz it's bare late and I ain't about to be late to work again tomorrow bruv, that shizzle gonna get me in bare strife, you get me? (To anyone who is personally offended by my poor attempt at "street talk" I apologise).
Peace out my lovelies.
I have been working in the east end of London for almost a year now and as such, due to my subconscious's tendency to mimic those around me I have caught myself speaking in a term that one might phrase as 'ghetto.' Of course, the problem arises as my face, body language and general way of presenting myself tends to give off the impression that I speak the way in which I am writing this message at the moment.
The result that you get is a middle class looking girl acting like she is "well ghetto and tings." As such I'm finding people are giving me the look of... "that white girl is trying to be street, she ain't foolin no one fam." Although having said that they do tend to be pretty encouraging of my colloquial talk and allow me to engage in conversation without too much scoffing. We all know however that I am in reality far too much of a wannabe to ever be cool enough to fully pull it off. Probably the fact that I call the language 'colloquial' pretty much aids my point.
There is a large part of me that wishes I had enough of my own accent that I didn't need to mimic those around me but as I have been moving around for pretty much the entire of my life I cannot help but try to adapt to my surroundings. Even if what I am doing is a highly poor attempt.
It is the same wherever I go, lead me to the west country where Father's family resides and I will suddenly speak in a manner that suggests I've been a farmer my entire life.
If I am back in Essex, talking to Oldest-Friend-Cafrin then you would think I was sporting a perfect example of any cast member from 'The only way is Essex.'
This is in my blood and not anything I can run away from. Whilst on the phone to Father today (who has been living in Scotland for a total of four months now) he informed me that he too had found himself succumbing to his local's way of speaking. He has begun to use the word "aye" instead of yes and "wee" instead of little. It is not something we can run away from... It's obviously in our genes.
So that being said I have decided to embrace the chameleon inside of me. Especially as I work in an office with Line-Manager-Monica and she is a very strong Jamaican woman. The accent that I have adapted around her has amused me to no end. She hasn't yet commented on it but she must have noticed... I fear it's only going to get worse until all traces of any previous accent are gone and people start to ask me why I would choose to leave the Caribbean to come to such a cold country.
I'm gonna go cotch and watch my shows and tings now though coz it's bare late and I ain't about to be late to work again tomorrow bruv, that shizzle gonna get me in bare strife, you get me? (To anyone who is personally offended by my poor attempt at "street talk" I apologise).
Peace out my lovelies.
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
Why I do what I do.
Today I have got to have a geek day. What I'm about to tell you does help explain why my flat stays in the "skank mess" that it is, not that I feel I have to explain my dirty habits or anything.
You see today at work I was given a new job. I am now in charge of referrals for one of the wards. As such I got to sit down with the person who used to be in charge of it and learn the new process.
Once I had done that I got to write out a list of my tasks, summarise the plan back to the person teaching me and then write bullet points, breaking down each task in the list so that I had process fully mapped out.
After this I got to format my spreadsheet. My days, do I love to format my own spreadsheets.
I broke down each sector into name, ward and place. Allowed space for date and times of assessments to be clearly marked out, and factored in checklists to ensure all paperwork had been gathered and properly filed away.
In case this was a little tough to read I then formatted the table so that certain boxes shone different colours depending on the answer that was entered. I then sat back in my chair and marvelled at the beauty of my new absolutely gorgeous baby.
And it's not even finished yet! Tomorrow I get to correspond the table with the electronic documents so that they are one click away from accessing, start entering data whilst creating folders to add an extra sense of organisation and send out an email showing off my new baby for all to marvel and adore!
I am not kidding, the whole experience has been the best thing to happen to me this month. Not to mention that I have not been this physically attracted to something I've created on excel in a while. Who needs healthy relationships with loving partners when you have data, a computer and the ability to conditionally format?
...
Now that you see how much love and effort I put into my work can you blame me for not having any energy left to spare when I get home?
I know I'm going to have awesome dreams about this day tonight.
Peace out my lovelies.
You see today at work I was given a new job. I am now in charge of referrals for one of the wards. As such I got to sit down with the person who used to be in charge of it and learn the new process.
Once I had done that I got to write out a list of my tasks, summarise the plan back to the person teaching me and then write bullet points, breaking down each task in the list so that I had process fully mapped out.
After this I got to format my spreadsheet. My days, do I love to format my own spreadsheets.
I broke down each sector into name, ward and place. Allowed space for date and times of assessments to be clearly marked out, and factored in checklists to ensure all paperwork had been gathered and properly filed away.
In case this was a little tough to read I then formatted the table so that certain boxes shone different colours depending on the answer that was entered. I then sat back in my chair and marvelled at the beauty of my new absolutely gorgeous baby.
And it's not even finished yet! Tomorrow I get to correspond the table with the electronic documents so that they are one click away from accessing, start entering data whilst creating folders to add an extra sense of organisation and send out an email showing off my new baby for all to marvel and adore!
I am not kidding, the whole experience has been the best thing to happen to me this month. Not to mention that I have not been this physically attracted to something I've created on excel in a while. Who needs healthy relationships with loving partners when you have data, a computer and the ability to conditionally format?
...
Now that you see how much love and effort I put into my work can you blame me for not having any energy left to spare when I get home?
I know I'm going to have awesome dreams about this day tonight.
Peace out my lovelies.
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
I'm going to show you something that I won't even let my neighbouring friends see... Yes that makes you special. You're welcome.
I'm beginning to panic. I have people potentially looking around my flat this Saturday and I have not yet done a thing about it.
Remember how I occasionally mention I'm a clutter person? Well it might not surprise people to know that that description was a bit of an understatement.
Since I've been blogging for a while now I feel we've formed a bond. We are a tight and formidable unit. Just me and the Internet.... Or more likely, just me and 0.000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001% of the internet (give or take a couple thousand 0's).
As such I feel I can let you into a little secret that (I'm not going to lie) may very well have you cowering away from me in disgust. The clutter I have before mentioned? Well it might be a little closer to a skanky mess.
You see, I spend my working days organising two consultants. As such I spend 9:00-6:00 living a life based around routine, structure, spreadsheets, lists and organisation. Due to this I find I need an outlet, somewhere to not have to organise or tidy anything. I decided that that place is the place that I live. Tonight I will disclose to you just how bad my 'clutter' is... I warn you, it ain't pretty.
Can you begin to see my predicament? In just four days I have to make this flat look presentable and tonight, just like last night, I have not got home from work until gone 8.
I've got to be honest with you, I'm a little concerned I might not get this done in time.
Also on top of that I wrote a note on my hand today because I couldn't find any paper and after I have scrubbed at it several times it would appear that I have used some form of permanent ink.
I shall leave you all wondering just what could be happening on 22nd
November at 10am whilst I desperately try to de-skank myself. Wish me luck!!
Peace out my lovelies.
Remember how I occasionally mention I'm a clutter person? Well it might not surprise people to know that that description was a bit of an understatement.
Since I've been blogging for a while now I feel we've formed a bond. We are a tight and formidable unit. Just me and the Internet.... Or more likely, just me and 0.000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001% of the internet (give or take a couple thousand 0's).
As such I feel I can let you into a little secret that (I'm not going to lie) may very well have you cowering away from me in disgust. The clutter I have before mentioned? Well it might be a little closer to a skanky mess.
You see, I spend my working days organising two consultants. As such I spend 9:00-6:00 living a life based around routine, structure, spreadsheets, lists and organisation. Due to this I find I need an outlet, somewhere to not have to organise or tidy anything. I decided that that place is the place that I live. Tonight I will disclose to you just how bad my 'clutter' is... I warn you, it ain't pretty.
Can you begin to see my predicament? In just four days I have to make this flat look presentable and tonight, just like last night, I have not got home from work until gone 8.
I've got to be honest with you, I'm a little concerned I might not get this done in time.
Also on top of that I wrote a note on my hand today because I couldn't find any paper and after I have scrubbed at it several times it would appear that I have used some form of permanent ink.
I shall leave you all wondering just what could be happening on 22nd
November at 10am whilst I desperately try to de-skank myself. Wish me luck!!
Peace out my lovelies.
It's shameful plug for Younger-Brother-Daniel time again
Younger-Brother-Daniel has done a new video. Check it out... although I warn you. The thing scared the CRAP out of me so... you know... be careful and shizzle.
Also he did a new Brain Fart Bill and since I am starting to consider this particular cartoon character as a guy I could very much fall in love with one day, I'm going to plug him as well...
Brain Fart Bill part 3
That is all. Shall see you all soon.
Also he did a new Brain Fart Bill and since I am starting to consider this particular cartoon character as a guy I could very much fall in love with one day, I'm going to plug him as well...
Brain Fart Bill part 3
That is all. Shall see you all soon.
Monday, 10 October 2011
Flat viewing and a welcome long lost greeting to a way of life I had really started to miss.
Big big weekend this weekend. Looked at six houses with new flatmate Anna (nickname to be confirmed. Still haven't decided yet).
Also to come with us was Anna's boyfriend Karl. He has proven himself very useful to have around. I am very grateful to Anna who had the sense six months ago to start dating that one. Because she was so forward thinking we had a lift to each and every one of the flats and we didn't have to walk to one once. Karl and his car were very appreciated.
We liked two out of the six we were looking at. This fact was pretty redundant as each and every one of the estate agents who showed us around said that we were a little early in our looking for flats. I don't know what they're talking about. I find almost two months early perfectly fine.
One down point to the day however was that neither of us got to play 'Daddy's little rich girl' which is soooo my favourite game to play when flat hunting.
The game is us finding a flat that is so unbelievably out of our price range (or anyone without their own yacht's price range if I'm more accurate) and ask for a showing in amongst our more serious views.
This game is then heightened by putting on our most poshest of voices and view the flat whilst having conversations like:
Me: What do you think Annabel? Do you find the rooms spacious enough?
Anna: Well the second master bedroom seemed a little pokey for my liking but I know daddy would absolutely love the balcony.
Me: Oh darling, I know what you mean! And have you seen the dining room? Think of the dinner parties!
Anna: I have already considered that! It would be smashing wouldn't it? The one thing I worry about is the rent.
Me: Yes my dear, I know what you mean, it is a little out of our price range isn't it?
Anna: I worry daddy won't approve.
Me: Mine too... Well we will just have to tell them straight. This is the most expensive that they do on a renting basis. And after all we really could benefit from slumming it for a while, think of what we could learn?
Anna: You are right Lisa, it would really give us a chance to get in touch with the less fortunate people of our age.
And so on and so forth. It is awesome game. However the flat I did try to get a viewing for on the day had an unavailable land lord so we will have to wait to play that game another time. Damn.
In other news: almost in response to my last post where I shared my surprise on the kindness offered to me from Claire-The-Bully, she invited me to the bullies lair with Rachael-The-Bully and offered to pay for curry!
I accepted though part of me worried that there was a hidden agenda where they were going to fatten me and then roast me alive or something. However when I got there I felt a lot more at home with the whole situation.
To fully explain this next conversation I should probably explain that there was a very large chance I took double the amount of happy pills I should have taken on Sat because I couldn't remember if I had already taken one for the day and I'm on such a high dose that if I miss one I feel pretty crappy about it, so I though "better safe than sorry."
However when I reached the Bullies lair it became a little apparent that I may have OD'ed as I was more than a little talkative, leading to the following conversation.
Claire-The-Bully and Rachael-The-Bully have been shortened to CTB and RTB.
(Whilst watching X Factor)
Me: I really like her, I think she'll go far.
CTB: So you said about a minute ago.
Me: (Sniffs and grumbles incoherently to CTB) Well I think she's awesome.
Pause
Me: (Starts singing the song that had just been sung)
CTB: What is wrong with you tonight Lisa? You have not shut up since you got here. I'd understand if you had been home all day but you've been out in company! Aren't you tired yet?
Me: ... There's a small chance I may have OD'ed on happy pills today.
RTB: I'm going to say that that is a really big chance.
Me: Damn... Sorry, this might not be pleasant for either of you then.
CTB: You think?
Pause as Gary Barlow comes on the screen
Me: You know what Take That song I really like of his and have been listening to again and again recently? (When I hear no response I take that to mean "Go on Lisa, we'd really like to know" and so continue) Rule the world.
Pause. No reaction is given from either Bullies.
Me: I think I'm going to have that as my first dance at my wedding.
RTB: Really? You sure you don't want "Rabbit Rabbit" from Chaz and Dave?
CTB falls into fits of laughter behind me and I nod my head, oddly at peace with the conversation.
Me: And suddenly it feels right again. You buy me food on the condition that I eat it whilst listening to you insult me. This feels a lot more balanced now, I no longer feel uncomfortable about the change in situation or worry about having to respond to a compliment from you. Thanks.
CTB: Don't mention it mate.
RTB: Glad to help.
And I am genuinely glad it's gone back to normal. I was slightly freaked out for a while that they had changed completely. But gladly they haven't and I can go back to the snide comments and gorgeous insults that make our friendship work so well.
Peace out my lovelies.
Also to come with us was Anna's boyfriend Karl. He has proven himself very useful to have around. I am very grateful to Anna who had the sense six months ago to start dating that one. Because she was so forward thinking we had a lift to each and every one of the flats and we didn't have to walk to one once. Karl and his car were very appreciated.
We liked two out of the six we were looking at. This fact was pretty redundant as each and every one of the estate agents who showed us around said that we were a little early in our looking for flats. I don't know what they're talking about. I find almost two months early perfectly fine.
One down point to the day however was that neither of us got to play 'Daddy's little rich girl' which is soooo my favourite game to play when flat hunting.
The game is us finding a flat that is so unbelievably out of our price range (or anyone without their own yacht's price range if I'm more accurate) and ask for a showing in amongst our more serious views.
This game is then heightened by putting on our most poshest of voices and view the flat whilst having conversations like:
Me: What do you think Annabel? Do you find the rooms spacious enough?
Anna: Well the second master bedroom seemed a little pokey for my liking but I know daddy would absolutely love the balcony.
Me: Oh darling, I know what you mean! And have you seen the dining room? Think of the dinner parties!
Anna: I have already considered that! It would be smashing wouldn't it? The one thing I worry about is the rent.
Me: Yes my dear, I know what you mean, it is a little out of our price range isn't it?
Anna: I worry daddy won't approve.
Me: Mine too... Well we will just have to tell them straight. This is the most expensive that they do on a renting basis. And after all we really could benefit from slumming it for a while, think of what we could learn?
Anna: You are right Lisa, it would really give us a chance to get in touch with the less fortunate people of our age.
And so on and so forth. It is awesome game. However the flat I did try to get a viewing for on the day had an unavailable land lord so we will have to wait to play that game another time. Damn.
In other news: almost in response to my last post where I shared my surprise on the kindness offered to me from Claire-The-Bully, she invited me to the bullies lair with Rachael-The-Bully and offered to pay for curry!
I accepted though part of me worried that there was a hidden agenda where they were going to fatten me and then roast me alive or something. However when I got there I felt a lot more at home with the whole situation.
To fully explain this next conversation I should probably explain that there was a very large chance I took double the amount of happy pills I should have taken on Sat because I couldn't remember if I had already taken one for the day and I'm on such a high dose that if I miss one I feel pretty crappy about it, so I though "better safe than sorry."
However when I reached the Bullies lair it became a little apparent that I may have OD'ed as I was more than a little talkative, leading to the following conversation.
Claire-The-Bully and Rachael-The-Bully have been shortened to CTB and RTB.
(Whilst watching X Factor)
Me: I really like her, I think she'll go far.
CTB: So you said about a minute ago.
Me: (Sniffs and grumbles incoherently to CTB) Well I think she's awesome.
Pause
Me: (Starts singing the song that had just been sung)
CTB: What is wrong with you tonight Lisa? You have not shut up since you got here. I'd understand if you had been home all day but you've been out in company! Aren't you tired yet?
Me: ... There's a small chance I may have OD'ed on happy pills today.
RTB: I'm going to say that that is a really big chance.
Me: Damn... Sorry, this might not be pleasant for either of you then.
CTB: You think?
Pause as Gary Barlow comes on the screen
Me: You know what Take That song I really like of his and have been listening to again and again recently? (When I hear no response I take that to mean "Go on Lisa, we'd really like to know" and so continue) Rule the world.
Pause. No reaction is given from either Bullies.
Me: I think I'm going to have that as my first dance at my wedding.
RTB: Really? You sure you don't want "Rabbit Rabbit" from Chaz and Dave?
CTB falls into fits of laughter behind me and I nod my head, oddly at peace with the conversation.
Me: And suddenly it feels right again. You buy me food on the condition that I eat it whilst listening to you insult me. This feels a lot more balanced now, I no longer feel uncomfortable about the change in situation or worry about having to respond to a compliment from you. Thanks.
CTB: Don't mention it mate.
RTB: Glad to help.
And I am genuinely glad it's gone back to normal. I was slightly freaked out for a while that they had changed completely. But gladly they haven't and I can go back to the snide comments and gorgeous insults that make our friendship work so well.
Peace out my lovelies.
Friday, 7 October 2011
Sssh!! Don't move! You'll spook her.
Claire-The-Bully is being uncharacteristically nice to me at the moment. I don't want to complain about it because it's not necessarily a bad thing, but still... It unnerves me. I can't help but feel incredibly suspicious.
It's not even a case of easing up on the insults when we're together, that in itself is weird when she does it. Or even complimenting me on a night out, which does usually leave me with icy chills, thinking about what the connotations could be of such an act. No, today she has gone out of her way to be nice to me... twice!!
My impulse reaction to this has been "what does she want?" or "how badly has she hit her head?" I've even considered that she's currently going through her own form of Groundhog day and I have been betting against myself on how many times she's experienced this day this time round. At the moment I'm leaning toward somewhere between her 50th and 60th turn.
Regardless of the reason, she has been highly attentive and supportive of this blog today. She has advertised it on her facebook and her twitter (her twitter account does only have five followers but still, it's the thought that counts). There has even been one point where her friend commented and said he found the stuff a bit 'out there' (which is totally valid as he was talking about my no neck/no sense of humour post earlier in the week which even I considered as a little bizarre) and Claire-The-Bully totally stood up for me! Not even I would have done that for that post!
I am highly grateful for the complimenting and over all 'Lisa love' I have been experiencing from her corner but at the same time I've been kind of frozen in reaction to it. To me, her kindness is like catching sight of an animal in the wild, I'm afraid if I make any sudden movements or sounds I'll spook it away... But then if I don't respond I fear I may bore it and it will go away anyway... Tis a tricky one.
So I have decided that instead I will just talk about it candidly on here, fully aware that she'll probably respond with some kind of snide or witty remark as she returns to her normal self. Meanwhile I will secretly hold on to the small proof I have that somewhere, deep deep inside that tough and sarcastic exterior there is a woman who puts up with me - nay - even likes me.
By the way, I haven't spoken about the Bullies in a while so if that whole post baffled you and you would like to know what makes Claire such a bully click here.
Peace out my lovelies and have an awesome weekend.
It's not even a case of easing up on the insults when we're together, that in itself is weird when she does it. Or even complimenting me on a night out, which does usually leave me with icy chills, thinking about what the connotations could be of such an act. No, today she has gone out of her way to be nice to me... twice!!
My impulse reaction to this has been "what does she want?" or "how badly has she hit her head?" I've even considered that she's currently going through her own form of Groundhog day and I have been betting against myself on how many times she's experienced this day this time round. At the moment I'm leaning toward somewhere between her 50th and 60th turn.
Regardless of the reason, she has been highly attentive and supportive of this blog today. She has advertised it on her facebook and her twitter (her twitter account does only have five followers but still, it's the thought that counts). There has even been one point where her friend commented and said he found the stuff a bit 'out there' (which is totally valid as he was talking about my no neck/no sense of humour post earlier in the week which even I considered as a little bizarre) and Claire-The-Bully totally stood up for me! Not even I would have done that for that post!
I am highly grateful for the complimenting and over all 'Lisa love' I have been experiencing from her corner but at the same time I've been kind of frozen in reaction to it. To me, her kindness is like catching sight of an animal in the wild, I'm afraid if I make any sudden movements or sounds I'll spook it away... But then if I don't respond I fear I may bore it and it will go away anyway... Tis a tricky one.
So I have decided that instead I will just talk about it candidly on here, fully aware that she'll probably respond with some kind of snide or witty remark as she returns to her normal self. Meanwhile I will secretly hold on to the small proof I have that somewhere, deep deep inside that tough and sarcastic exterior there is a woman who puts up with me - nay - even likes me.
By the way, I haven't spoken about the Bullies in a while so if that whole post baffled you and you would like to know what makes Claire such a bully click here.
Peace out my lovelies and have an awesome weekend.
Thursday, 6 October 2011
To review or not to review, that is... Well not the question, but it has some of the same words in it.
I'm off to the cinema for the second time this week. For those of you avid readers, you may have noticed I have a film review blog attached to this one that states the last time I saw a film was two months ago. This blog lies.
You see I actually restarted this whole blogging experience this year by starting up my film blog again. This was going to be my only source of blogging. I had no plans to talk about crap and share my psychoses with the whole world, I was just simply going to be a kickass reviewer.
But then one day I met Younger-Brother-Daniel in London and he spent the whole day trying to see how gullible I could be. From this I had an urge to tell the world about my own confusions, I needed to vent to the world just how possible it was that squirrels only existed in England.
So in my lunch break one day, I clicked on another blog I hadn't used since I was a teenager. A blog that I had shamefully failed to regularly update back in the days Older-Brother-Glyn and his friends found it to be the new craze. A blog called "Random thoughts of a plum." But no matter how I tried to get my friends to use it, they were all far more interested in their myspace accounts and this brand new site that was starting to become popular called "Facebook." I had failed to update it then and I had let it fade away into nothing, a redundant site that did nothing but clog up google searches when people looked for tattoos of zombies on face or bad Pizza Hut service.
Then March of this year I placed my squirrel ponderments (new word that I just made up, you're welcome) on this blog and something came over me, something strange, something obsessive. Suddenly my life was sectioned into randomthoughts posts and my head was spinning with ways to eloquently put together the musings of my day.
For a while I tried to keep both blogs updated. If I'm honest I'm pretty impressed with how long I lasted but lately???? Well lately I have found there is not enough time in my life to do all the writing I want to do.
Don't get me wrong! If I had the choice I would totally live at home and get paid to write blogs and novels all day, but alas my time for this has not arrived yet so I have to make do.
As such, I have become highly lazy in the film review side. This is something that Film-Buddy-Kezia will not thank me for as she has already threatened to hurt me for every review I fail to write (I'm up to about 25 lashes). I feel tempted to just take down the site altogether but then I worry that with it I destroy a part of me... Yes I know how melodramatic that sounds but I'm okay with it.
Mainly I'm worried that if I take down the site then I will be essentially destroying the Internet life of Film-Buddy-Kezia. Yes I know she'll still live on regardless of whether or not I talk about her on there. But the internet version? What will become of her? If I stop, how will the world know exactly what films she's seen and when she's seen them? How will they be aware of her witty banter or completely bad opinions of films? If I stop, I worry she'll simply fade away.
Of course then I realise that due to not updating the blog in a long time, whatever small amount of viewers it did have, have now trailed off to look at more committed sites and actually, should I take it down, the only person who would notice would be me... And possibly Kezia.
And now I've realised I've written an extremely long post on something that I know in the long run I'll be too chicken to do and so it will continue to sit there, festering away whilst possibly offering the odd review to anyone who hasn't seen Tangled yet.
Hmmmm. I'm beginning to realise that my blogs might actually just be another excuse for me to procrastinate.
Peace out my lovelies.
You see I actually restarted this whole blogging experience this year by starting up my film blog again. This was going to be my only source of blogging. I had no plans to talk about crap and share my psychoses with the whole world, I was just simply going to be a kickass reviewer.
But then one day I met Younger-Brother-Daniel in London and he spent the whole day trying to see how gullible I could be. From this I had an urge to tell the world about my own confusions, I needed to vent to the world just how possible it was that squirrels only existed in England.
So in my lunch break one day, I clicked on another blog I hadn't used since I was a teenager. A blog that I had shamefully failed to regularly update back in the days Older-Brother-Glyn and his friends found it to be the new craze. A blog called "Random thoughts of a plum." But no matter how I tried to get my friends to use it, they were all far more interested in their myspace accounts and this brand new site that was starting to become popular called "Facebook." I had failed to update it then and I had let it fade away into nothing, a redundant site that did nothing but clog up google searches when people looked for tattoos of zombies on face or bad Pizza Hut service.
Then March of this year I placed my squirrel ponderments (new word that I just made up, you're welcome) on this blog and something came over me, something strange, something obsessive. Suddenly my life was sectioned into randomthoughts posts and my head was spinning with ways to eloquently put together the musings of my day.
For a while I tried to keep both blogs updated. If I'm honest I'm pretty impressed with how long I lasted but lately???? Well lately I have found there is not enough time in my life to do all the writing I want to do.
Don't get me wrong! If I had the choice I would totally live at home and get paid to write blogs and novels all day, but alas my time for this has not arrived yet so I have to make do.
As such, I have become highly lazy in the film review side. This is something that Film-Buddy-Kezia will not thank me for as she has already threatened to hurt me for every review I fail to write (I'm up to about 25 lashes). I feel tempted to just take down the site altogether but then I worry that with it I destroy a part of me... Yes I know how melodramatic that sounds but I'm okay with it.
Mainly I'm worried that if I take down the site then I will be essentially destroying the Internet life of Film-Buddy-Kezia. Yes I know she'll still live on regardless of whether or not I talk about her on there. But the internet version? What will become of her? If I stop, how will the world know exactly what films she's seen and when she's seen them? How will they be aware of her witty banter or completely bad opinions of films? If I stop, I worry she'll simply fade away.
Of course then I realise that due to not updating the blog in a long time, whatever small amount of viewers it did have, have now trailed off to look at more committed sites and actually, should I take it down, the only person who would notice would be me... And possibly Kezia.
And now I've realised I've written an extremely long post on something that I know in the long run I'll be too chicken to do and so it will continue to sit there, festering away whilst possibly offering the odd review to anyone who hasn't seen Tangled yet.
Hmmmm. I'm beginning to realise that my blogs might actually just be another excuse for me to procrastinate.
Peace out my lovelies.
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
Things are moving forward and I'm worried I'm too lazy to keep up.
My letting agent rang me up yesterday asking me if they could come round with possible renters to view my flat. This, I felt was a little rushed as I still have until the end of November before I need to move out and it will take at least six weeks to make my clutter look ... Well... Non-cluttery.
It also freaks me out that people are already interested in my flat and I haven't even looked at one to move into! Damn it, it feels like I only just moved in!
I am really looking forward to the 'moving in with Anna' part. By living with me I guess she will become a regular feature on this thing.. Wow, I haven't even given her a nickname on my blog yet, I shall have to rectify that rather promptly!
Anna is introducing a piano into the mix. Dude, it is going to be one long episode of Glee! Our neighbours are going to love us!
This is all very exciting and personally I cannot wait for this next year but it's the bit in between that is going to suck. The bit where I have to find a flat, pack stuff, move stuff, end old bills, start new ones, realise that I forgot to end one of the bills and continue to pay for two flats instead of one, have to start up my old business and hang around the red light district again for 'one last sale' until I manage to afford to live again. It's all very fiddly and almost hardly ever enjoyable.
But come January, once I'm settled and I've had the all clear from my check up at the local clinic then life shall be fun again... With the added bonus of actually having money!
...
I feel I should justify myself to my parents who have recently got into reading this thing... When I say 'red light district' I mean selling leaflets outside KFC, and when I say 'all clear from the clinic' I mean the Overdraft clinic at my bank where they shake my hand, pat me on the head and tell me I'm an awesome person for having credit in my account.
Yeah.
Peace out my lovelies.
It also freaks me out that people are already interested in my flat and I haven't even looked at one to move into! Damn it, it feels like I only just moved in!
I am really looking forward to the 'moving in with Anna' part. By living with me I guess she will become a regular feature on this thing.. Wow, I haven't even given her a nickname on my blog yet, I shall have to rectify that rather promptly!
Anna is introducing a piano into the mix. Dude, it is going to be one long episode of Glee! Our neighbours are going to love us!
This is all very exciting and personally I cannot wait for this next year but it's the bit in between that is going to suck. The bit where I have to find a flat, pack stuff, move stuff, end old bills, start new ones, realise that I forgot to end one of the bills and continue to pay for two flats instead of one, have to start up my old business and hang around the red light district again for 'one last sale' until I manage to afford to live again. It's all very fiddly and almost hardly ever enjoyable.
But come January, once I'm settled and I've had the all clear from my check up at the local clinic then life shall be fun again... With the added bonus of actually having money!
...
I feel I should justify myself to my parents who have recently got into reading this thing... When I say 'red light district' I mean selling leaflets outside KFC, and when I say 'all clear from the clinic' I mean the Overdraft clinic at my bank where they shake my hand, pat me on the head and tell me I'm an awesome person for having credit in my account.
Yeah.
Peace out my lovelies.
Just a quickie
Just a quick one, the real post will be coming later today, but I wanted to bring to your attention Younger-Brother-Daniel's new comic strips "Brain Fart Bill."
The second link in partciular had me laughing.
Introduction of Brain Fart Bill
Brain Fart Bill watches Doctor Who
I have a feeling I'm going to like this 'Bill' character.
The second link in partciular had me laughing.
Introduction of Brain Fart Bill
Brain Fart Bill watches Doctor Who
I have a feeling I'm going to like this 'Bill' character.
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
You know it's a good day when only half the usual amount of hair falls out.
Line-Manager-Monica is back from holiday today. I could not be happier.
This past week has been 7 days of running around juggling 16 balls, 24 knives, 12 jagged rocks, and 6 fireballs. No I don't work in a circus. And yes, with that talent I really should.
But today I had her back! Huzzah! This did mean that I didn't have so much to do in my covering work but most importantly when Line-Manager-Monica comes back, with her comes my back bone.
You see I have this really nasty habit of saying yes to everything asked of me. If someone comes to my office and says "hey Lisa could you just pop this over for me?" or "Lisa could you do me a favour and drop everything you're doing to do this thing as favour for me? it'll probably take all day but I'll be so grateful," if they do this, I physically cannot think of a single reason why I would say no to them. Not one. Even if just ten minutes earlier I had been crying into my coffee over the sheer amount of work I have to do and the severe lack of hours in which to do it. The moment that person asks me, I end up thinking "ah well their need is obviously bigger than mine."
Guys, this is not a good quality to have. Yes, it makes everyone like you, and yes that feeling is always nice, but when you find that you've fallen asleep in the front hall of your flat for the fourth time that week because you simply didn't have the energy to make it up the stairs???? Yeah it suddenly isn't worth it anymore, also you gain crippling neck cramp from the awkward way you fall to the floor/stairs.
But today Line-Manager-Monica was back and today she said no to people when I physically couldn't. And somehow today I got out the office by quarter past five!! That almost never happens!
Man, I can't wait to make it to my bed tonight. I wonder if it's like I remembered it. I might even sing some kind of march as I walk the journey. If only I had a flag I could wave...
I'm also considering purchasing a recording of her voice saying "no" so that I can use her to fight my battles outside of work as well. I could carry it in my pocket and blame the recording every time someone complained I wasn't being accommodating enough.
If that isn't the most awesome plan I've ever come up with then I don't know what is.
Peace out my lovelies.
This past week has been 7 days of running around juggling 16 balls, 24 knives, 12 jagged rocks, and 6 fireballs. No I don't work in a circus. And yes, with that talent I really should.
But today I had her back! Huzzah! This did mean that I didn't have so much to do in my covering work but most importantly when Line-Manager-Monica comes back, with her comes my back bone.
You see I have this really nasty habit of saying yes to everything asked of me. If someone comes to my office and says "hey Lisa could you just pop this over for me?" or "Lisa could you do me a favour and drop everything you're doing to do this thing as favour for me? it'll probably take all day but I'll be so grateful," if they do this, I physically cannot think of a single reason why I would say no to them. Not one. Even if just ten minutes earlier I had been crying into my coffee over the sheer amount of work I have to do and the severe lack of hours in which to do it. The moment that person asks me, I end up thinking "ah well their need is obviously bigger than mine."
Guys, this is not a good quality to have. Yes, it makes everyone like you, and yes that feeling is always nice, but when you find that you've fallen asleep in the front hall of your flat for the fourth time that week because you simply didn't have the energy to make it up the stairs???? Yeah it suddenly isn't worth it anymore, also you gain crippling neck cramp from the awkward way you fall to the floor/stairs.
But today Line-Manager-Monica was back and today she said no to people when I physically couldn't. And somehow today I got out the office by quarter past five!! That almost never happens!
Man, I can't wait to make it to my bed tonight. I wonder if it's like I remembered it. I might even sing some kind of march as I walk the journey. If only I had a flag I could wave...
I'm also considering purchasing a recording of her voice saying "no" so that I can use her to fight my battles outside of work as well. I could carry it in my pocket and blame the recording every time someone complained I wasn't being accommodating enough.
If that isn't the most awesome plan I've ever come up with then I don't know what is.
Peace out my lovelies.
Monday, 3 October 2011
I've got nothing.
I've got nothing to post about today. Nada. There is exactly zero amount of things going on in my thoughts.
Except that some stuff must be going on because I haven't been a vegetable all day. I'm not even convinced that some of the things weren't actually funny and blogworthy. All I know is in this particular moment I have no thoughts.
I briefly considered talking about my day in twitter because that has definitely been the funniest bit of my day. Internet people who you have never met are really funny people... Sometimes... Sometimes they're rapists. I might make a t shirt that says that...
I have decided not to put the tweets onto my blog because I fear out of context they won't be funny. You know... If you are boring... And had your sense of humour removed surgically.
...
... Can that happen? If so, what part of the body would they take out? What if it's a part of the body you need like your neck? Well I guess you don't need your neck, you can just look ridiculous with your head stuck facing forward and welded onto to your shoulders like a Sontaran.
I mean, if you didn't have a neck you wouldn't be able to look around without moving your whole body. I guess that means that you can kiss goodbye any chance of being able to check someone out on the sly.
There is also the issue of the voice box. Does this mean you can no longer talk without your neck? I guess you wouldn't be able to laugh at anyone's jokes if you didn't have a voicebox either... No that's ridiculous Lisa... People can laugh without making a sound... Just not very loudly.
Anyway I'm sure it's not imperative to have a neck in order to have a voicebox. The surgeon could just weld it onto the shoulder blade or something.
And if the source of our humour is in our necks and for some reason you've decided to cut it out then at least we can all know which stranger to go up to in the street when we have a kick-ass new joke to tell... the ones with necks.
Okay, now I'm kinda hoping that our sense of humour is in the neck. It would explain why I find giraffes so funny.
Wait... Did I just write a post?
Score.
Peace out my lovelies.
Except that some stuff must be going on because I haven't been a vegetable all day. I'm not even convinced that some of the things weren't actually funny and blogworthy. All I know is in this particular moment I have no thoughts.
I briefly considered talking about my day in twitter because that has definitely been the funniest bit of my day. Internet people who you have never met are really funny people... Sometimes... Sometimes they're rapists. I might make a t shirt that says that...
I have decided not to put the tweets onto my blog because I fear out of context they won't be funny. You know... If you are boring... And had your sense of humour removed surgically.
...
... Can that happen? If so, what part of the body would they take out? What if it's a part of the body you need like your neck? Well I guess you don't need your neck, you can just look ridiculous with your head stuck facing forward and welded onto to your shoulders like a Sontaran.
I mean, if you didn't have a neck you wouldn't be able to look around without moving your whole body. I guess that means that you can kiss goodbye any chance of being able to check someone out on the sly.
There is also the issue of the voice box. Does this mean you can no longer talk without your neck? I guess you wouldn't be able to laugh at anyone's jokes if you didn't have a voicebox either... No that's ridiculous Lisa... People can laugh without making a sound... Just not very loudly.
Anyway I'm sure it's not imperative to have a neck in order to have a voicebox. The surgeon could just weld it onto the shoulder blade or something.
And if the source of our humour is in our necks and for some reason you've decided to cut it out then at least we can all know which stranger to go up to in the street when we have a kick-ass new joke to tell... the ones with necks.
Okay, now I'm kinda hoping that our sense of humour is in the neck. It would explain why I find giraffes so funny.
Wait... Did I just write a post?
Score.
Peace out my lovelies.
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