Whether you believe in it or not, star signs can be very random, and in turn, very funny.
We were talking about astrology today, and this was the first site I found. I've never seen anything before that mentions what ailments a star sign suffers from or what their "beneficial foods" are, so I thought I'd share them today as my moment of random zen.
As I was born on the 19th of Feb which is on the cusp between Aquarius and Pisces, I get to double dip and cherry pick all the best bits of both star signs as I like (oooh! my ailments of choice: Alchoholism, Drug addiction, lack of sleep and insanity! cool)
Some mindless fortune telling for Friday. Enjoy:
Aries
Ailments
Arthritis, rheumatism, skin complaints, knee injuries, bone diseases, depression, eczema.
Beneficial Foods
Cabbage and kale.
Taurus
Ailments
Earache, goitres, gout, laryngitis, obesity, tonsillitis, swollen neck glands, throat inflammations, constipation.
Beneficial Foods
Beans and celery.
Gemini
Ailments
accidents (usually small, but frequent), bronchitis, pneumonia, nervous exhaustion.
Beneficial Foods
Lettuce and cauliflower.
Cancer
Ailments
Gastric disorders, heartburn, indigestion, obesity, ulcers.
Beneficial Foods
Watercress and milk.
Leo
Ailments
Backache, palpitations, fainting, blood disorders, fevers, dizziness heart problems, pill-popping.
Beneficial Foods
Oranges and peas.
Virgo
Ailments
Anorexia, bowel problems, indigestion, intestinal infections, appendicitis, malnutrition, hernia.
Beneficial Foods
Lemons and caraway seeds.
Libra
Ailments
Eczema, skin diseases, kidney and bladder infections, diabetes, abcesses, lumbago, vein disorders.
Beneficial Foods
Strawberries and plums.
Scorpio
Ailments
Bladder disorders, cystitis, genito-urinary diseases, piles, prostate trouble, PMT.
Beneficial Foods
Prunes and hops.
Sagittarius
Ailments
Injuries to hip and thigh, falls, obesity, baldness.
Beneficial Foods
Asparagus and cucumber.
Capricon
Ailments
Arthritis, rheumatism, skin complaints, knee injuries, bone diseases, depression, eczema.
Beneficial Foods
Cabbage and kale.
Aquarius
Ailments
Injuries to lower legs, ankle problems, poor circulation, varicose veins, blood disorders, nervous disorders, sheer lack of sleep.
Beneficial Foods
Pomegranates and pineapples.
Pisces
Ailments
Bunions, chilblains, alcoholism, drug addiction, lymphatic and glandular disorders, forgetfulness, insanity.
Beneficial Foods
Raisins, dates and cereals.
Friday, August 31, 2007
The point of the blog
I can't sleep. It's not that I've been tossing and turning, and have just deciede I can't sleep. No, it's 1am now, and I've only just gotten into bed. I've stayed up and watched crap tv for ages, knowing full well I'm not interested in what I was seeing, but just dreading having to go to my bed. And I have no idea why. Why is it that I have this nervous, uneasy, twitch, that is making me feel, well, scared? And the wierd things is that I have no idea what I'm scared of. It's like having the Mean Reds. I know it's not the usual fear I get before I nod off, which makes me get up and check all the doors and windows are locked at night. No, this fear is just dense, heavy, and stodgy, like a wool blanket that's too thick and oppressive and holds you down and suffocates you. And the worse thing is that I know that writing things down is supposed to help you relax and make you feel like you're surrendering your problems, but it's almost as if typing these words out gives breath and life and substantiates this fear into existence.
What's wrong with me? There is nothing to be frightened of. Nothing is going on. So why is my heart racing? Why can't I relax and sleep?
This is why I own a blog. So that I can write all these things down, and later on, much later, when this fear goes away, or the feelings that I have day to day, or little events that go to make up a life, are forgotten and surrendered to the past, I know that by writing these things, these crappy, little, stupid events and thoughts, means that I will always have some record of it. Albeit, if only in the digital universe, to be made up of 1's and 0's and little bits of electricity.
Now all I have to do is be able to sleep, to start another day.
Argh it's late and I appologise for this post. I'm going to try to get some sleep.
What's wrong with me? There is nothing to be frightened of. Nothing is going on. So why is my heart racing? Why can't I relax and sleep?
This is why I own a blog. So that I can write all these things down, and later on, much later, when this fear goes away, or the feelings that I have day to day, or little events that go to make up a life, are forgotten and surrendered to the past, I know that by writing these things, these crappy, little, stupid events and thoughts, means that I will always have some record of it. Albeit, if only in the digital universe, to be made up of 1's and 0's and little bits of electricity.
Now all I have to do is be able to sleep, to start another day.
Argh it's late and I appologise for this post. I'm going to try to get some sleep.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
The most productive thing I've been in years
I love this site from instructables.com! It gives you instructions for how to make your own ipod or mobile phone stand out of your business cards. With clear instructions and pictures, this site is cool! (Seriously it rocks)
Honestly, I really LOVE this. I've made a few loads of them now for peoples phones, ipods and business card holders. I've even worked out how to make one for an ipod with cable attached (since we all keep ours plugged in at work) using postcards from our local Benugos. I really do think it's the most productive thing I've done in months. Seeing as I'm a bit just fed up with everything at the moment, this has certainly soothed my savage need to create and build something useful.
Finally I've found a second use for all my business cards! The first use obviously being for those "win a free lunch" draws at pubs and restaurants.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Hoorah for the long weekend
It's T-Minus 2 hours until the start of the last bank holiday weekend in Britain. HOORAH!! I can't get out of here quick enough, since I've spent all week swearing at the bugs I'm trying to fix. I think if we are nice enough to give our clients NPE's then they should happily take these little gifts and live with it. Stupid software.
Anyway, I'm obsessed today with 2 things:
1. Thinking with my belly first
I stumbled across this from 101cookbooks (fabulous site) and I am seriously in love with these madelines. I love madelines in general, with their softness and their delicous buttery fattening goodness. The idea of a plate full of these delicious little cakes straight out of the oven is definitely making me want to rush home right now and make them. Unfortunately I first have to buy myself a proper madeline tin first, which is something I intend to do this weekend. YUM. For the recipe check it out here
2) Not getting fired at work
They've taken away our YouTube privaleges!!! It's a freaking disaster! How am I going to listen to "If I Could Turn Back Time" by Cher now? Where will I get my Roxette fix? WHERE?? This, my friends, is why god created the internet (well, not himself personally but you know what I mean), so when we get cravings for crap 80's music, we can go to one site, one search and 2 seconds later, be teleported back to days of bangs and scrunchies and bad, bad, rock ballads with guitars!! So now my account has been "super scouted" which means that management have been flagged to the fact I've looked at a website that I should be looking at. Unfortunately, I was super scouted the second time today when Calv sent us all a link to blacks.co.uk for hiking and outdoor gear for our next trip to the Artic circle. Unfortunately, he thought he sent us there, but instead sent us to another blacks site, which is not a camping store at all, but a site with explicit material, of a sexual nature. Super scout smacks me again. For inadvertedly looking up porn at work. Damn it.
Have a good long weekend if you're in Britain. Otherwise, see you on the otherside!
Anyway, I'm obsessed today with 2 things:
1. Thinking with my belly first
I stumbled across this from 101cookbooks (fabulous site) and I am seriously in love with these madelines. I love madelines in general, with their softness and their delicous buttery fattening goodness. The idea of a plate full of these delicious little cakes straight out of the oven is definitely making me want to rush home right now and make them. Unfortunately I first have to buy myself a proper madeline tin first, which is something I intend to do this weekend. YUM. For the recipe check it out here
2) Not getting fired at work
They've taken away our YouTube privaleges!!! It's a freaking disaster! How am I going to listen to "If I Could Turn Back Time" by Cher now? Where will I get my Roxette fix? WHERE?? This, my friends, is why god created the internet (well, not himself personally but you know what I mean), so when we get cravings for crap 80's music, we can go to one site, one search and 2 seconds later, be teleported back to days of bangs and scrunchies and bad, bad, rock ballads with guitars!! So now my account has been "super scouted" which means that management have been flagged to the fact I've looked at a website that I should be looking at. Unfortunately, I was super scouted the second time today when Calv sent us all a link to blacks.co.uk for hiking and outdoor gear for our next trip to the Artic circle. Unfortunately, he thought he sent us there, but instead sent us to another blacks site, which is not a camping store at all, but a site with explicit material, of a sexual nature. Super scout smacks me again. For inadvertedly looking up porn at work. Damn it.
Have a good long weekend if you're in Britain. Otherwise, see you on the otherside!
Thursday, August 23, 2007
So how did it go?
How did our summer party go?
I was well nervous on Friday afternoon. On the tube to the venue we were talking about how we thought it would end up in a big fight between our group and the group from downstairs (where the women are from). Not being a violent bunch though, instead of knives and guns, the whole fight would be played out in interpretative dance and song, like some sort of grand West Side Story production, with high kicks, singing and some chorus line work.... Obviously after laughing, joking and talking about people from our company for 30 mins, we only noticed another group of people from work on the same carraige as us as we were getting off the train....
If you're in London I'd definitely head up to the Roof Gardens for a night out! The gardens are on the top floor of the a large building in Kensington, and looked amazing. Our dining tables where under a big marquee with little lights dotted everywhere, and there was a classical guitarist playing for our pleasure. The food was really, really good too.. BBQ's sea bass, prawns, squid, chicken, lamb and ribs.. Grilled veges and proper, nice, salads. And some really yummy puds for afters (the boys apparently where trying to decide which desert was more manly: the cheesecake or tiramisu... I don't think there's a clear winner in any of those options). But I'll spare you the details of how cool the venue was and skip right on to the bitchy bits.
We were all standing in one of the gardens before dinner, drinking our extremely expensive beers and wine, and I nervously waited for the group in question to turn up. 1 1/2 hours later, and we were seated for dinner (because I told the Maitr'd that I wasn't their mother and if they couldn't turn up on time, that was just too bad, but the rest of us where eating now!). When they finally did turn up the two women made their grand entrance through the middle of everyone. Having never really seen them before but only hearing lots about them, I was not in the least bit surprised that they looked like Samantha wannabes from Sex and the City. Our entire table watched them walk in and sit down, and their entire table watched us walk past them to get food. Evil stares from the two blondes I was used to by the time desert came round!
Though other than that, nothing really happened. No fisty cuffs, not arguments, nothing. The only real incident with them happened when one of the women were in the toilets and apparently asked her friend for some lipstick. One of the girls I knew was in the toilets as well, and she told me she said to her "yeah, you look like you need it"..
After dinner our group just sat around the table chatting. We then went and danced to the live band in the gardens, and finally made it to the dance floor where at one stage I found myself half moshing to Jump Around by House Of Pain. In high heels. My feet were well and truly fucked by the end of the night (I'm a flats girl myself).
The only other incident occured when we were all leaving, and one of the girls we were with was calling for a cab home. Not realising this, we hailed her a black cab and told her we had a cab for her. Only after hanging up on the cab firm did she notice it was a black cab, and she then yelled at me "YOU KNOW I CAN'T AFFORD ONE OF THOSE, NOW YOU'VE MADE ME HANG UP ON THE CAB FIRM. THANKS A LOT". To which I got really pissed off at (come on by this stage I was well quite soused) so on the way home I got myself more and more angry about it, so when I got home I called her to give her a piece of my mind... when she didn't answer I thought "oh well that's mature", so I called again... No answer. So I thought "I'll text her what I think", but thought better of it.. then called again... and again.. and again.. no answer, no answer, no answer. So I left her this text "can you call me or I'm calling the cops". No reply. No call.
I woke up on Saturday morning with a horrendous hangover. Still no call back. So I called her again. No answer. (You're getting the general gist of this at this stage right?). Eventually I get through a recorded message: "This number is not connected". So then my over active imagination starts to work quick smart, double time: What if we put her in the wrong car? What if it wasn't a mini cab at all? What if the mini cab was one of those dodgy ones with a serial killer or rapist driving it? What if she's in hospital, or worse: lying dead, naked in a ditch? What would I say to her cousins? What would I wear at her funeral? Do people still hats for a funeral these days? Hmm.. where would I get one of those from? I imagined her family crying and accusing me "why didn't she just get in the black cab? Why didn't you make sure she was ok?", and me sitting there saying "If only we'd given her money so she wouldn't have had to get into that cab of death."
In the end, like a pyscho bitch stalker, I'm ashamed to say I called her 21 times in the space of 16 hours.
When someone suggested we call another friend of ours who might know, again, I still got no answer. After he didn't return my call for 2 hours I thought "oh my god. He's at the morgue identifying the body isn't he??". When he did eventually call me back, he said all casually, whilst I was on the other end of the line all frantic on the inside, trying not to let people see the crazy come out: "Oh her? Oh yeah, she lost her phone in that cab we put her in last night". Oh.
In the end, like a pyscho bitch stalker, I'm ashamed to say I called her 21 times in the space of 16 hours. And let me tell you something: when people hear you've called somone 21 times like that, no matter, how good your intentions are, people just sees you as a crazy freak. A stupid, stalkering, overly paranoid, dotty, crazy freak.
To draw to a close this saga of woe that has been our company's Summer Party from hell, the only thing that is left to retell is this: what happened to the two wicked witches? Did they get their comupance?
Our head of HR dragged one of them into this office on Monday and gave her a bit of a 'talk'. He called me up to tell me what had happened, and what he'd said and he told me "she was extremely contrite about the whole situation". I would have given him the sort of response he was looking for, but I was desperately trying to find out the meaning of the word 'contrite' on the internet (I did do 2 unit related English at school... it is my first language,... you'd think my vocabulary would be a bit better wouldn't you?). When I found out it was "remorseful" I became all benevolant. However, when she called me to appologise, and say how she didn't mean to make me feel so bad, instead of feeling victorious, I just felt, well, embarrased. I couldn't wait for the phone call to be over quick enough. When she asked me if there was anything I'd like to say to her, so I could make myself feel better, my mouth dried up and I just said I wanted the whole thing to be done now, and just start again. I'm not sure if that's what she was hoping for, but I guess it was what I was hoping for. And the second woman? The one who called me up all those times, and yelled and bitched? I've not heard from her at all. Not that I'm going to hold my breath on that either.
So there you are. Hopefully another drama finished and done. I'll probably keep organising events for our company. But I'll be damned if I organise a nice one any time soon. All parties from now on will be upstairs in the crappy pub down the road, with beer nuts, sausage rolls and deep fried everything. No glam parties, no celebrities, no dressing up, nada. Lager and crisps only. You know, I'm not half sure if that isn't what people really want anyway...
I was well nervous on Friday afternoon. On the tube to the venue we were talking about how we thought it would end up in a big fight between our group and the group from downstairs (where the women are from). Not being a violent bunch though, instead of knives and guns, the whole fight would be played out in interpretative dance and song, like some sort of grand West Side Story production, with high kicks, singing and some chorus line work.... Obviously after laughing, joking and talking about people from our company for 30 mins, we only noticed another group of people from work on the same carraige as us as we were getting off the train....
If you're in London I'd definitely head up to the Roof Gardens for a night out! The gardens are on the top floor of the a large building in Kensington, and looked amazing. Our dining tables where under a big marquee with little lights dotted everywhere, and there was a classical guitarist playing for our pleasure. The food was really, really good too.. BBQ's sea bass, prawns, squid, chicken, lamb and ribs.. Grilled veges and proper, nice, salads. And some really yummy puds for afters (the boys apparently where trying to decide which desert was more manly: the cheesecake or tiramisu... I don't think there's a clear winner in any of those options). But I'll spare you the details of how cool the venue was and skip right on to the bitchy bits.
We were all standing in one of the gardens before dinner, drinking our extremely expensive beers and wine, and I nervously waited for the group in question to turn up. 1 1/2 hours later, and we were seated for dinner (because I told the Maitr'd that I wasn't their mother and if they couldn't turn up on time, that was just too bad, but the rest of us where eating now!). When they finally did turn up the two women made their grand entrance through the middle of everyone. Having never really seen them before but only hearing lots about them, I was not in the least bit surprised that they looked like Samantha wannabes from Sex and the City. Our entire table watched them walk in and sit down, and their entire table watched us walk past them to get food. Evil stares from the two blondes I was used to by the time desert came round!
Though other than that, nothing really happened. No fisty cuffs, not arguments, nothing. The only real incident with them happened when one of the women were in the toilets and apparently asked her friend for some lipstick. One of the girls I knew was in the toilets as well, and she told me she said to her "yeah, you look like you need it"..
After dinner our group just sat around the table chatting. We then went and danced to the live band in the gardens, and finally made it to the dance floor where at one stage I found myself half moshing to Jump Around by House Of Pain. In high heels. My feet were well and truly fucked by the end of the night (I'm a flats girl myself).
The only other incident occured when we were all leaving, and one of the girls we were with was calling for a cab home. Not realising this, we hailed her a black cab and told her we had a cab for her. Only after hanging up on the cab firm did she notice it was a black cab, and she then yelled at me "YOU KNOW I CAN'T AFFORD ONE OF THOSE, NOW YOU'VE MADE ME HANG UP ON THE CAB FIRM. THANKS A LOT". To which I got really pissed off at (come on by this stage I was well quite soused) so on the way home I got myself more and more angry about it, so when I got home I called her to give her a piece of my mind... when she didn't answer I thought "oh well that's mature", so I called again... No answer. So I thought "I'll text her what I think", but thought better of it.. then called again... and again.. and again.. no answer, no answer, no answer. So I left her this text "can you call me or I'm calling the cops". No reply. No call.
I woke up on Saturday morning with a horrendous hangover. Still no call back. So I called her again. No answer. (You're getting the general gist of this at this stage right?). Eventually I get through a recorded message: "This number is not connected". So then my over active imagination starts to work quick smart, double time: What if we put her in the wrong car? What if it wasn't a mini cab at all? What if the mini cab was one of those dodgy ones with a serial killer or rapist driving it? What if she's in hospital, or worse: lying dead, naked in a ditch? What would I say to her cousins? What would I wear at her funeral? Do people still hats for a funeral these days? Hmm.. where would I get one of those from? I imagined her family crying and accusing me "why didn't she just get in the black cab? Why didn't you make sure she was ok?", and me sitting there saying "If only we'd given her money so she wouldn't have had to get into that cab of death."
In the end, like a pyscho bitch stalker, I'm ashamed to say I called her 21 times in the space of 16 hours.
When someone suggested we call another friend of ours who might know, again, I still got no answer. After he didn't return my call for 2 hours I thought "oh my god. He's at the morgue identifying the body isn't he??". When he did eventually call me back, he said all casually, whilst I was on the other end of the line all frantic on the inside, trying not to let people see the crazy come out: "Oh her? Oh yeah, she lost her phone in that cab we put her in last night". Oh.
In the end, like a pyscho bitch stalker, I'm ashamed to say I called her 21 times in the space of 16 hours. And let me tell you something: when people hear you've called somone 21 times like that, no matter, how good your intentions are, people just sees you as a crazy freak. A stupid, stalkering, overly paranoid, dotty, crazy freak.
To draw to a close this saga of woe that has been our company's Summer Party from hell, the only thing that is left to retell is this: what happened to the two wicked witches? Did they get their comupance?
Our head of HR dragged one of them into this office on Monday and gave her a bit of a 'talk'. He called me up to tell me what had happened, and what he'd said and he told me "she was extremely contrite about the whole situation". I would have given him the sort of response he was looking for, but I was desperately trying to find out the meaning of the word 'contrite' on the internet (I did do 2 unit related English at school... it is my first language,... you'd think my vocabulary would be a bit better wouldn't you?). When I found out it was "remorseful" I became all benevolant. However, when she called me to appologise, and say how she didn't mean to make me feel so bad, instead of feeling victorious, I just felt, well, embarrased. I couldn't wait for the phone call to be over quick enough. When she asked me if there was anything I'd like to say to her, so I could make myself feel better, my mouth dried up and I just said I wanted the whole thing to be done now, and just start again. I'm not sure if that's what she was hoping for, but I guess it was what I was hoping for. And the second woman? The one who called me up all those times, and yelled and bitched? I've not heard from her at all. Not that I'm going to hold my breath on that either.
So there you are. Hopefully another drama finished and done. I'll probably keep organising events for our company. But I'll be damned if I organise a nice one any time soon. All parties from now on will be upstairs in the crappy pub down the road, with beer nuts, sausage rolls and deep fried everything. No glam parties, no celebrities, no dressing up, nada. Lager and crisps only. You know, I'm not half sure if that isn't what people really want anyway...
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
What NOT to say at a vegan festival
When working at a vegan festival (remember, no animal products of any kind. No meat, no dairy, no eggs, no leather, no honey) here are some things you shouldn't say to customers. Definitely don't say any of these, then fall over yourselves laughing about it. (Oh I'll never be asked to work the stall again!)
1) Hmmm hammy
"This lady wants to know what are these shoes called?"
"Parma"
"Oh, you mean like the ham?"
"Um... more like the city...."
2) More baby seal skin
"So can you tell what the differences are between these two pairs of boots?"
"Well they are very similar, both water proof, both very sturdy, great for walking, so they're almost exactly the same. Well, except this pair is fur lined.... "
(me thinking: "oh shit!")
"Um, not mink though!"
(Me getting stern look)
"Um.. not fur of any kind... You're absolutely right sir, that wasn't funny at all..."
3) Beeatch
"So being a vegan means they don't believe in cruelty towards animals right? But cruelty towards humans is totally fine? So like that old bat being a bitch just now? That's completely within her ethos huh?"
4) The Colonel
"So what are you protesting about today?"
"The terrible things that KFC have done. It's an outrage and an abomination"
"You know you're right! It is an outrage they stopped doing hot and spicy chicken. I love that stuff, it was the best. All crunchy on the outside and spicy inside... And it's never quite been the same since. But still, an abominations a bit heavy going don't you think??"
1) Hmmm hammy
"This lady wants to know what are these shoes called?"
"Parma"
"Oh, you mean like the ham?"
"Um... more like the city...."
2) More baby seal skin
"So can you tell what the differences are between these two pairs of boots?"
"Well they are very similar, both water proof, both very sturdy, great for walking, so they're almost exactly the same. Well, except this pair is fur lined.... "
(me thinking: "oh shit!")
"Um, not mink though!"
(Me getting stern look)
"Um.. not fur of any kind... You're absolutely right sir, that wasn't funny at all..."
3) Beeatch
"So being a vegan means they don't believe in cruelty towards animals right? But cruelty towards humans is totally fine? So like that old bat being a bitch just now? That's completely within her ethos huh?"
4) The Colonel
"So what are you protesting about today?"
"The terrible things that KFC have done. It's an outrage and an abomination"
"You know you're right! It is an outrage they stopped doing hot and spicy chicken. I love that stuff, it was the best. All crunchy on the outside and spicy inside... And it's never quite been the same since. But still, an abominations a bit heavy going don't you think??"
Friday, August 17, 2007
10 mins and countdown
10 mins before we leave for our summer party. I have a dress on (which I'm not sure I like), as well as 2 pairs of shoes (1 pair of high heals, 1 pair of sparkly flats in case I can't walk anymore in high heals) plus a pair of black trousers to go under the dress (it looks alot better than it sounds...)
C said I should go and meet a celebrity and make the women who have been bitchy to me jealous. I said he would have to be a blind one for me to have any chance.... Is Stevie Wonder in London tonight??
I hope tonight goes well. I hope I don't end up fighting with anyone.. I hope my minders remember they are my minders....... I hope it doesn't rain...
God I'm nervous.
C said I should go and meet a celebrity and make the women who have been bitchy to me jealous. I said he would have to be a blind one for me to have any chance.... Is Stevie Wonder in London tonight??
I hope tonight goes well. I hope I don't end up fighting with anyone.. I hope my minders remember they are my minders....... I hope it doesn't rain...
God I'm nervous.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Another day, another party, another rant.
Here are my top 5 reasons why I am sick to the gut with this fucking summer party. If you're a bit sensitive to swearing you might want to look away. Oh fuck! I've already said 'fuck' haven't I? Sweet damnation.
1) Ticket Stress:
Having gone through trying to make sure that everyone who says they are coming is in fact coming, I had, over the last 4 days, 4 cancellations. You'd think that with a guest list of 20 odd people that wouldn't be a problem right? Wrong. I've spent the last 2 days emailing and emailing and emailing people. I give them deadlines for when they have to tell me if they want to come. They ignore me. Like some sort of self flagillating, 'just abuse me' idiot I extend those deadlines. I even call them up to find out if they want to come.. I get lots of "yes I'm coming" then "oh, um, sorry, no can't make it". You'd think after all the "why can't I get a ticket" bullshit I had, I wouldn't have had any problem shifting those ticket eh? 30 emails, tons of phone calls and 3 days of the run around and only at 5pm today did I finally manage to do it. Yes
2) Inevitable "I have nothing to wear" Stress:
Girl from work: "so what are you wearing Friday night?"
Me: "I'm not sure why? What are you wearing?"
Girl From Work: "Well... i bought a black pencil skirt, and I'm wearing a satin black top. E is wearing a black skirt with a fish tail, and sequined satin top too. We'll both probably wear stilletos I guess"
Me: "Oh. Bugger".
Now I have 36 hours to find something to wear. And because recently it's been raining heaps (hey, we've had floods here, full on "God want's to smite thee" floods), I've not been cycling to work as much cause I am truly a baby when it comes to skidding on slippery areterial roads in London and dying horribly by having my brains smashed in by a lorry. So I've obviously chubbed up a bit. And now I think nothing I own looks good enough to me. Fuck Fuck Fuck. I complained to Li, who, like some sort of fashionista fairy god mother sent me what seemed like hundreds of links to different clothes and shops I could go to. Fabulous. Problem solved? Well.... haven't managed to make it to any shops yet... Hey I've got 1 shopping night left.... How hard can it be to come up with the perfect "I look cool, but I'm not trying to hard" outfit?
Yeah I know. I'm screwed.
3) Body Stress:
Number 2 obviously leads me straight to number 3. So in the next 36 hours I have to make sure I've exfoliated, body brushed, plucked, pruned, conditioned, moisturised and done whatever sort of agricultural cultivation I need to do. Obviously I had big plans to do some serious exercise this week. Ok Ok, ok so that didn't quite materialise. Still, it's great eyebrows that you get remembered for. Not being a size 0 model lookalike with perfect hair, makeup, and skin, who looks amazing in the skin tight, Posh Spice type clothes, who can attract every man they see. At least that's what all those fashion magazines with their size 0 models splashed across them keep telling us. Of course I know it's not what you look like, it's who you are. But who I am would be greatly enhanced with gravity defying breasts, toned abs, killer legs, and the latest Dior whathaveyou outfit. Personlity. That's what I'm going to keep telling myself I have. And hopefully great eyebrows.... Who the fuck am I kidding?
4) Guest List Stress
Grrrr. I have said over and over and over again that this venue works on a guest list system. I give out tickets, but their nothing more than a piece of cardboard with the address and time on them. Guest list: simple concept: you're not on it, you don't go in. Do people listen to me? Fuck no! I've heard in round about ways loads of people who have swapped their tickets with other people. Have they told me? Hell no. If they can't follow simple, easy, a CHILD would get it, instructions, then to hell with them.
5) Bitch Stress
The killer. The reasons why it is all so bleak.
I had yet another phone call from the woman from downstairs saying she heard people on the waiting list are getting tickets, and where did they come from? When I pointed out that these were the ones that had been returned (see point 1), she came back with "why was I not asked if I wanted a ticket?" - well, that's because she'd already bought one from the venue (that I had to fucking organise it for her myself), and did I mention that organising her social life isn't actually my job, with java developer as a neat side line? When I said this she told me "well you know I wanted to go, and I would have cancelled my own ticket". When I said I was working through the waiting list, and she wasn't on it and I had specifically asked her friend if they wanted to go on, she said "well you still should have asked us first. I demand that I should have been asked first" WOAAAH there woman. You're not on the list. You already had a ticket. YOU WEREN'T ON THE LIST. I went through the people who patiently waited for a ticket. Was I supposed to jump all those people and ask her? Is she supposed to be the Messiah or something? After a 5 minute conversation where I told her I was flabergasted at what else I could possibly have done for her, and besides she couldn't have cancelled because she wouldn't have got her money back, she screamed at me like a child, and she hung up on me like an adult. Oh yes, this is what I have to contend with.
She might think I'm some sort of push over that she can try to bully, who will just roll over and do what she wants because she seems to try to do this with everyone else, but that's going to hell change come Monday, when I put in a complaint about her behaviour. Oh yes my friends. Complaint. I am going to tattle on her to teacher like a kid in primary school whose being bullied by kids for lunch money. And I'm going to do this because I know on Friday night she's going to say something bitchy to me and you know what I say? "BRING IT ON". Come and fucking get me girl. Just. Do. It. I know it sounds childish, but one word, one wrong look, so much as a huff or sigh in my direction from these middle aged, high maitenance women and I am SO up for the fight come Monday.
Now my only problem is that I may need to get me some minders. Not to protect me from them, but to protect me from myself. A few drinks, and I am angry and upset enough (I was physically shaking this afternoon after that phone call), that I sincerly hope I do not say something stupid.
God I am sick of this fucking party. I do not want to go anymore. Staying at home, curled up on the couch with East Enders and a bucket of KFC sounds intensely more appealing right now. Fucking volunteering. Stupid people. Calv says he hates "people who blame everyone else for things that are their own fault" and with these people from work, I utterly agree.
1) Ticket Stress:
Having gone through trying to make sure that everyone who says they are coming is in fact coming, I had, over the last 4 days, 4 cancellations. You'd think that with a guest list of 20 odd people that wouldn't be a problem right? Wrong. I've spent the last 2 days emailing and emailing and emailing people. I give them deadlines for when they have to tell me if they want to come. They ignore me. Like some sort of self flagillating, 'just abuse me' idiot I extend those deadlines. I even call them up to find out if they want to come.. I get lots of "yes I'm coming" then "oh, um, sorry, no can't make it". You'd think after all the "why can't I get a ticket" bullshit I had, I wouldn't have had any problem shifting those ticket eh? 30 emails, tons of phone calls and 3 days of the run around and only at 5pm today did I finally manage to do it. Yes
2) Inevitable "I have nothing to wear" Stress:
Girl from work: "so what are you wearing Friday night?"
Me: "I'm not sure why? What are you wearing?"
Girl From Work: "Well... i bought a black pencil skirt, and I'm wearing a satin black top. E is wearing a black skirt with a fish tail, and sequined satin top too. We'll both probably wear stilletos I guess"
Me: "Oh. Bugger".
Now I have 36 hours to find something to wear. And because recently it's been raining heaps (hey, we've had floods here, full on "God want's to smite thee" floods), I've not been cycling to work as much cause I am truly a baby when it comes to skidding on slippery areterial roads in London and dying horribly by having my brains smashed in by a lorry. So I've obviously chubbed up a bit. And now I think nothing I own looks good enough to me. Fuck Fuck Fuck. I complained to Li, who, like some sort of fashionista fairy god mother sent me what seemed like hundreds of links to different clothes and shops I could go to. Fabulous. Problem solved? Well.... haven't managed to make it to any shops yet... Hey I've got 1 shopping night left.... How hard can it be to come up with the perfect "I look cool, but I'm not trying to hard" outfit?
Yeah I know. I'm screwed.
3) Body Stress:
Number 2 obviously leads me straight to number 3. So in the next 36 hours I have to make sure I've exfoliated, body brushed, plucked, pruned, conditioned, moisturised and done whatever sort of agricultural cultivation I need to do. Obviously I had big plans to do some serious exercise this week. Ok Ok, ok so that didn't quite materialise. Still, it's great eyebrows that you get remembered for. Not being a size 0 model lookalike with perfect hair, makeup, and skin, who looks amazing in the skin tight, Posh Spice type clothes, who can attract every man they see. At least that's what all those fashion magazines with their size 0 models splashed across them keep telling us. Of course I know it's not what you look like, it's who you are. But who I am would be greatly enhanced with gravity defying breasts, toned abs, killer legs, and the latest Dior whathaveyou outfit. Personlity. That's what I'm going to keep telling myself I have. And hopefully great eyebrows.... Who the fuck am I kidding?
4) Guest List Stress
Grrrr. I have said over and over and over again that this venue works on a guest list system. I give out tickets, but their nothing more than a piece of cardboard with the address and time on them. Guest list: simple concept: you're not on it, you don't go in. Do people listen to me? Fuck no! I've heard in round about ways loads of people who have swapped their tickets with other people. Have they told me? Hell no. If they can't follow simple, easy, a CHILD would get it, instructions, then to hell with them.
5) Bitch Stress
The killer. The reasons why it is all so bleak.
I had yet another phone call from the woman from downstairs saying she heard people on the waiting list are getting tickets, and where did they come from? When I pointed out that these were the ones that had been returned (see point 1), she came back with "why was I not asked if I wanted a ticket?" - well, that's because she'd already bought one from the venue (that I had to fucking organise it for her myself), and did I mention that organising her social life isn't actually my job, with java developer as a neat side line? When I said this she told me "well you know I wanted to go, and I would have cancelled my own ticket". When I said I was working through the waiting list, and she wasn't on it and I had specifically asked her friend if they wanted to go on, she said "well you still should have asked us first. I demand that I should have been asked first" WOAAAH there woman. You're not on the list. You already had a ticket. YOU WEREN'T ON THE LIST. I went through the people who patiently waited for a ticket. Was I supposed to jump all those people and ask her? Is she supposed to be the Messiah or something? After a 5 minute conversation where I told her I was flabergasted at what else I could possibly have done for her, and besides she couldn't have cancelled because she wouldn't have got her money back, she screamed at me like a child, and she hung up on me like an adult. Oh yes, this is what I have to contend with.
She might think I'm some sort of push over that she can try to bully, who will just roll over and do what she wants because she seems to try to do this with everyone else, but that's going to hell change come Monday, when I put in a complaint about her behaviour. Oh yes my friends. Complaint. I am going to tattle on her to teacher like a kid in primary school whose being bullied by kids for lunch money. And I'm going to do this because I know on Friday night she's going to say something bitchy to me and you know what I say? "BRING IT ON". Come and fucking get me girl. Just. Do. It. I know it sounds childish, but one word, one wrong look, so much as a huff or sigh in my direction from these middle aged, high maitenance women and I am SO up for the fight come Monday.
Now my only problem is that I may need to get me some minders. Not to protect me from them, but to protect me from myself. A few drinks, and I am angry and upset enough (I was physically shaking this afternoon after that phone call), that I sincerly hope I do not say something stupid.
God I am sick of this fucking party. I do not want to go anymore. Staying at home, curled up on the couch with East Enders and a bucket of KFC sounds intensely more appealing right now. Fucking volunteering. Stupid people. Calv says he hates "people who blame everyone else for things that are their own fault" and with these people from work, I utterly agree.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Friday Moment of Zen: One for the boys, one for the girls
Upon my happy adventures on the interweb today, I have watched the following two things on YouTube, which though being so vastly different, both I watched with disbelief, and I submit them to you as the Friday Moment of Zen:
I will not submit which I think is the more interesting, nor which one I've categorised is for 'boys' or 'girls' as I think they hold equal value for both sexes. Especially for Mr Vigo Mortensen from 'A Perfect Murder' era, which I stayed up until 1am to watch last night.....
Possibly the lack of sleep is an explanation for why I am capable of watching utter garbage on the Tinterweb.
Leave me a comment which you find more a) intersting b) useful in life. Enjoy!
- Battle of Kruger: A deadly battle b'twixt lions, crocodiles and water buffalos (oh my!) over the life over a water buffalo calf.
I watched in amazment how these lions dragged this baby buffalo to the ground! I watched in amazement as the lions where forced into a tug of war with a crocodile! I watched in amazement as the lions were finally beaten off by a herd of water buffalo. I also watched in amazement that this wasn't filmed by a nature program like Planet Earth, but simply by a dude with his video recorder, who says he barely knows how to use it. There is hope for me yet as an enthusiastic but lazy photographer, that maybe, by sheer dumb luck, I too might be ahble to take a photo of something remarkable one day. - The GHD guide to curling your hair with your hair straighteners.
I watched in amazment that you have to use 5 different hair products to make your hair curly. I watched in amazement that this video even exists. I watched in amazment that I think I've watched this before......
I will not submit which I think is the more interesting, nor which one I've categorised is for 'boys' or 'girls' as I think they hold equal value for both sexes. Especially for Mr Vigo Mortensen from 'A Perfect Murder' era, which I stayed up until 1am to watch last night.....
Possibly the lack of sleep is an explanation for why I am capable of watching utter garbage on the Tinterweb.Leave me a comment which you find more a) intersting b) useful in life. Enjoy!
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
They just don't make them like this anymore
Currently my playlist contains lots of French, German and Spanish dance/rap music. So that means lots of MC Solaar, Kate Ryan, Run Lola Run, and some crap Jennifer Lopez spanish stuff she made before she got herself almost arrested for being with someone who carried guns to nightclubs, and called herself JLo... Basically at the moment, if it's in a language I can just understand, it's made the playlist.
Having listened to Désenchantée by Kate Ryan for about 20 times now, to work out all the words (and secretly to see if I can sing along correctly so if I ever end up in a Francophone kareoke bar again I can wow the crowds with out singing songs from Grease, or Africa by Toto), I decided to google the song, and found the original version of this, sung in the 90's by the French singer Mylene Farmer. A grace à (thanks to) YouTube, i found the video clip, and you know, they just don't make them like this anymore, though I'm trying to recall any english (I mean english speaking, not english british) video clips that are like this - set in a concentration camp, it features kids smoking, women eating bugs, people beating up the lead singer, a riot, death, fire, soldiers beating up an old man and a kid who can't be much past 10 killing some soldiers with a semi automatic rifle. Kinda puts all the video clips with the singer wrything around in skimpies, all lathered, trying to whore themselves for single sales to shame.
It's a brilliant song, but the video is a bit like watching Schindlers List crossed with Saving Private Ryan crossed with French pop.... Check it out...
If you're interested in the Kate Ryan version, that I am currently listening to on repeat check her out here. Filmed all around Brussels, it's kinda nice watching my spiritual home with eurotrash pop (sorry Kate, you're not eurotrash. You're not any kind of garbage. You rock you old thing! Even if you didn't make it to the last 12 at eurovision this year).
Si tu est intéresté, les paroles pour la chanson suive. Tellement, je l'adore, et je pense, finalement, que je peux le chanter sauf les petites erreurs:
Désenchantée:
Nager dans les eaux troubles
Des lendemains
Attendre ici la fin
Flotter dans l'air trop lourd
Du presque rien
A qui tendre la main
Si je dois tomber de haut
Que ma chute soit lente
Je n'ai trouvé de repos
Que dans l'indifférence
Pourtant, je voudrais retrouver l'innocence
Mais rien n'a de sens, et rien ne va
Tout est chaos
A côté
Tous mes idéaux : des mots Abimés...
Je cherche une âme, qui
Pourra m'aider
Je suis
D'une géneration désenchantée, désenchantée
Qui pourrait m'empêcher
De tout entendre
Quand la raison s'effondre
A quel sein se vouer
Qui peut prétendre
Nous bercer dans son ventre
Si la mort est un mystère
La vie n'a rien de tendre
Si le ciel a un enfer
Le ciel peut bien m'attendre
Dis moi,
Dans ces vents contraires comment s'y prendre
Plus rien n'a de sens, plus rien ne va.
Having listened to Désenchantée by Kate Ryan for about 20 times now, to work out all the words (and secretly to see if I can sing along correctly so if I ever end up in a Francophone kareoke bar again I can wow the crowds with out singing songs from Grease, or Africa by Toto), I decided to google the song, and found the original version of this, sung in the 90's by the French singer Mylene Farmer. A grace à (thanks to) YouTube, i found the video clip, and you know, they just don't make them like this anymore, though I'm trying to recall any english (I mean english speaking, not english british) video clips that are like this - set in a concentration camp, it features kids smoking, women eating bugs, people beating up the lead singer, a riot, death, fire, soldiers beating up an old man and a kid who can't be much past 10 killing some soldiers with a semi automatic rifle. Kinda puts all the video clips with the singer wrything around in skimpies, all lathered, trying to whore themselves for single sales to shame.
It's a brilliant song, but the video is a bit like watching Schindlers List crossed with Saving Private Ryan crossed with French pop.... Check it out...
If you're interested in the Kate Ryan version, that I am currently listening to on repeat check her out here. Filmed all around Brussels, it's kinda nice watching my spiritual home with eurotrash pop (sorry Kate, you're not eurotrash. You're not any kind of garbage. You rock you old thing! Even if you didn't make it to the last 12 at eurovision this year).
Si tu est intéresté, les paroles pour la chanson suive. Tellement, je l'adore, et je pense, finalement, que je peux le chanter sauf les petites erreurs:
Désenchantée:
Nager dans les eaux troubles
Des lendemains
Attendre ici la fin
Flotter dans l'air trop lourd
Du presque rien
A qui tendre la main
Si je dois tomber de haut
Que ma chute soit lente
Je n'ai trouvé de repos
Que dans l'indifférence
Pourtant, je voudrais retrouver l'innocence
Mais rien n'a de sens, et rien ne va
Tout est chaos
A côté
Tous mes idéaux : des mots Abimés...
Je cherche une âme, qui
Pourra m'aider
Je suis
D'une géneration désenchantée, désenchantée
Qui pourrait m'empêcher
De tout entendre
Quand la raison s'effondre
A quel sein se vouer
Qui peut prétendre
Nous bercer dans son ventre
Si la mort est un mystère
La vie n'a rien de tendre
Si le ciel a un enfer
Le ciel peut bien m'attendre
Dis moi,
Dans ces vents contraires comment s'y prendre
Plus rien n'a de sens, plus rien ne va.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Late Night Noises
I really don't know anything about the neighbours upstairs, except that I think they might be a bit deaf. A fact I've gleaned thanks to their telly being up so fucking loud from about 9am until sometime around 9pm every evening. Not that I mind that honestly... it's kinda nice to have some connection to people who live next to you, even if that connection is only their love of crappy day time reality TV shows about people trying to sell their old household rubbish or talk shows where people beat up their relatives for running off with their cousins.
However, sometimes, late a night, like now, I lie in bed, and I can hear them moving about upstairs and I honestly, fervently, and sincerely hope that what I am hearing is them getting fidgety at 1am, and not them getting it on at 1am... cause somethings moving around up there, and I'm praying I'm not lying underneath old, deaf people doing the nasty.
Eek.
However, sometimes, late a night, like now, I lie in bed, and I can hear them moving about upstairs and I honestly, fervently, and sincerely hope that what I am hearing is them getting fidgety at 1am, and not them getting it on at 1am... cause somethings moving around up there, and I'm praying I'm not lying underneath old, deaf people doing the nasty.
Eek.
Friday, August 03, 2007
My 4 Point Plan to Becoming the most despised woman in your company
Sick of being liked at work? Want completely bitchy people to bitch about you and abuse you on the phone for something that is entirely their own fault? Want to feel like shite about yourself? If you too want to feel like this, then follow my 4 point, guaranteed or your money back, plan. Trust me, unlike fad diet pills, this plan will get you results in 4 weeks or less!
- Volunteer to help run social committee or club. A social club at work which takes every employees contribution of a WHOPPING £4 per month. For this £4 per month, the social club will organise events like theatre trips, quiz nights, nights at the races with dinner, a huge open bar and dinner Christmas party AND a summer party. Yup, for only £4 a month, they can go to ALL of these events if they say they want to go to them in time, because for only £4 a month, the budget is pretty tight, and if you're one of the organisers, you have to try to get the best deal possible for the tiny amount of cash you get to organise these events. Remember though: to make this plan work properly you have to VOLUNTEER to do this, so this isn't part of your job, you don't get paid extra and you do all the work, like finding venues, making tickets, creating posters on your own time.
- Organise the summer party. Don't just organise it at a crappy bar. Try to do something really cool, like go to the Roof Gardens in west London. Know that, because this is an expensive venue, there is a limit to the number of people who can go. Also realise that you've broken the 3 cardinal rules of social events: having it on a Friday, having it far from the office, asking people to pay £10 to come. Realise that the number of people that can go to this year's party is only 6 less than last year's summer party. To make it fair, ask people months in advance if they prefer an expensive venue, with limited number of people, or a cheaper venue where everyone can go. When everyone says "EXPENSIVE VENUE EXPENSIVE VENUE!", go on ahead an organise it. Make everyone aware they have to get tickets early because not everyone can go. Everyone will say that's fine.
Find out after you've started organising, that the venue is owned by Richard Branson, and is the haunt to many celebrates on Friday nights. Find out after you've organised it for some reason it's in loads of London papers and is getting brilliant reviews for it's multi million pound refurbishment.
Careful: You'll be stressed because a) you hope people will come and you've not just spunked the limited resources on an event no one will go to because of the 3 broken cardinal rules. Allow guests to come because guests can always go to the summer party, and what if you don't sell enough tickets? Careful: You may also start to feel kinda good you're organising a really cool do for your company... hope fervently people will like it. - Run out of tickets. Oh yes. It's a popular event now. People request tickets thick and fast. Run out of tickets within 3 weeks. Reneg on your flatmate after she offers to give up her ticket and you say "no don't worry about it, guests can come, so you can be my guest", and ask her if she can give up her ticket for someone else. Feel bad you have to do that. Tell people who ask now they have to go on a waiting list. Scrimp and save and try to find money for extra tickets. Find only enough money for 3 more places.
- Have people call you on the phone to yell at you. You're almost there! Answer calls from women on other floors who are livid there aren't any tickets for them. Have them scream that you should not have allowed guests. Have them yell and say "why are we subsidising other people?". Point out that even if all 10 guests don't come, they still couldn't go because they did ask for a ticket early enough, and all the people on the waiting list would have got those tickets first. Remember: they're now going to be irrational and say things like "well, I work on site 3 days a week so didn't see my email". Point out they've had 3 weeks to ask for tickets. Don't point out you yourself worked on site for 4 bloody years, one of which was overseas so you never went to social events that year, and that not being in the office doesn't mean you can't read your fucking emails, because you managed to do it. Don't point out they must be completely unprofessional if they don't check their emails on site. Don't point out they must be completely lazy for not getting in early enough. Don't point out the world doesn't revolve around their arses, so just because they want a ticket doesn't mean they can get one. Don't call them back when they slam the phone down on you mid conversation to ask them "I'm sorry, are you 6 years old? Grow up".
- Have same people bitch to everyone in company. Now you'll get other people coming and asking you the same questions. You'll get managing directors asking you "so, what's happening with the summer party? I hear things aren't going well?". Have people talk about you behind your back to other people on the social committee, who of course tell you what's being said. Have them get into heated arguments in pubs about how poorly organised it was, because they can't get a ticket. Have people call you up every single fucking day to talk about it. Start to feel worse and worse about yourself. Very quietly cry at desk.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
You'll wish you'd never said that
Retraction: Following a little hissy fit by the eminent Dr D, I've retracted this post (well the offensive word he called me).
Conversation between me and Dr D:
Me: "Did you run in to work in that shirt?"
Dr D: "Yup"
Me: "Hold on, didn't you wear that shirt yesterday?"
Dr D: "Yup"
Me: "What did you sleep in that shirt too?"
Dr D: "Um...." looking sheepishly "yeah, I think I did!"
Me: "You know, when someone asks you something you don't always have to tell the truth!"
Dr D: "But I find that honesty is the best policy though, wouldn't you say so Ch
Me: "Oh you're going to pay for that"
And so it starts for yet another week.
* - due to overwhelming screeching, the actual phrase used by Dr D had to be removed.
Conversation between me and Dr D:
Me: "Did you run in to work in that shirt?"
Dr D: "Yup"
Me: "Hold on, didn't you wear that shirt yesterday?"
Dr D: "Yup"
Me: "What did you sleep in that shirt too?"
Dr D: "Um...." looking sheepishly "yeah, I think I did!"
Me: "You know, when someone asks you something you don't always have to tell the truth!"
Dr D: "But I find that honesty is the best policy though, wouldn't you say so Ch
Me: "Oh you're going to pay for that"
And so it starts for yet another week.
* - due to overwhelming screeching, the actual phrase used by Dr D had to be removed.
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