~ was almost perfect.
Alex the ninja in a huge santa sack, all of us out in the dark playing with Paul's Ferrari, JL crawling inside her santa sack to find out what else was in there (why is it so bloody difficult to find presents for 2 year old girls?) new shooooooooooooze! endless food, NO stress, nicely merry but not drunk, and ~ what else can I say?
Sunday 27 December 2009
Tuesday 22 December 2009
That last working day
I was already demob happy in the morning, minimal packing with an overnight bag instead of a suitcase, and in good time for breakfast and work. How was I to know?
Arriving at the new desk in the penthouse garret, I fetched out and plugged in snoopy 2 and fired it up to start work. Unconsciously touching my ear, I discovered I'd lost one of my earrings. Yes, one of those earrings. I was and am quite surprised at how upset I was, and am about that. I called the hotel to tell them I'd lost it, but they didn't call back and I guess some chambermaid or laundryperson has slung the single sparkly thing away, which they wouldn't have done if it had had a price tag on it. Not convinced I'd have got it back even so. Has anyone, EVER got anything back from an hotel when they've left something in the room? To date, I've had denials on a Jabra headset, cheap calendar and cheapish but irreplaceable print I still regret, a zippo that meant a great deal to me, and now the earring. *sigh*
The day recovered quite well when I met Jane C for a drink after work, she has some mad idea that my supporting her promotion nomination did the trick, and lavished compliments on me about how much she learned from me when she was in my team last year. All embarrassingly flattering. More than that, she had a lovely Christmas card for me and mine, and a rather nice bottle of rouge which she sternly informed me I had to enjoy properly in good company. She's back working in Brum after Christmas so she & Ray are unlikely to make the Rammy but there is always hope.
Lots of amusement that evening. We chose not to stand in the space by the open door leading to the toilets, finding it infested with appalling stench. Instead we infiltrated the empty tables and chairs clearly reserved for diners and were able to sit in comfort and didn't even have to use Plan B (order a bowl of chips)to assert our rights as ladies of a certain air.
Eventually, we had to take it in turns to descend into the bog of stench (I'm sure there's a labyrinth reference in there but can't quite remember it). On my way down the stairs, I passed a young man who wished me Merry Christmas, so I returned the salutation and went about my business. The smell was actually less bad in the loo than at the top of the stairs.
When I came out and started back up the stairs, he was still there, and called to me as I got half-way up the first flight of steps
Him: Can I ask you a question
Me: Go on then, ask.
Him: would you give me a Christmas kiss under the mistletoe?
Me: there isn't any mistletoe
Him: it's imaginary
Me: OK, you can have an imaginary kiss
Still, terribly flattering, especially since I discovered he wasn't lurking down there asking every woman who passed; he hadn't asked Jane at any rate.
The second drink meant that I didn't get back into the building till about 7.30; cheerfully checking with the security guys that they hadn't locked the garret, I discovered they had. Leaving my laptop open on the desk surrounded by paper and my overnight bag under the coat stand obviously wasn't enough of a signal. They couldn't find the key for almost an hour "because the lock had recently been replaced". I blame the second drink for my being able to remain in good temper.
Having failed dismally to finish the stuff I had planned to polish off before the hols, mostly due to people sending review comments a week late; I got a late-working payoff when I received and forwarded an last gasp email from Mrs Business signing off the test approach I'd been selling her for the last two weeks. RESULT! Conscience immediately cleared, I eviscerated snoopy2 of the battery and DVD drive to save weight and left the building like a kid from the last day of school ~ and took a horribly expensive taxi to Marylebone on the basis I deserved it only to find I'd just missed a train and had to hang around for another half hour.
Giving a couple of quid to a mad old lady who hangs around there sometimes, it was interesting to notice that two other people suddenly started digging in pockets and bags to give her something. Why did they need an example? It meant the time passed quite quickly with a deep conversation between strangers about how the homeless cope, and how easy it is to fall between the cracks in society and end up on the street.
Arriving at the new desk in the penthouse garret, I fetched out and plugged in snoopy 2 and fired it up to start work. Unconsciously touching my ear, I discovered I'd lost one of my earrings. Yes, one of those earrings. I was and am quite surprised at how upset I was, and am about that. I called the hotel to tell them I'd lost it, but they didn't call back and I guess some chambermaid or laundryperson has slung the single sparkly thing away, which they wouldn't have done if it had had a price tag on it. Not convinced I'd have got it back even so. Has anyone, EVER got anything back from an hotel when they've left something in the room? To date, I've had denials on a Jabra headset, cheap calendar and cheapish but irreplaceable print I still regret, a zippo that meant a great deal to me, and now the earring. *sigh*
The day recovered quite well when I met Jane C for a drink after work, she has some mad idea that my supporting her promotion nomination did the trick, and lavished compliments on me about how much she learned from me when she was in my team last year. All embarrassingly flattering. More than that, she had a lovely Christmas card for me and mine, and a rather nice bottle of rouge which she sternly informed me I had to enjoy properly in good company. She's back working in Brum after Christmas so she & Ray are unlikely to make the Rammy but there is always hope.
Lots of amusement that evening. We chose not to stand in the space by the open door leading to the toilets, finding it infested with appalling stench. Instead we infiltrated the empty tables and chairs clearly reserved for diners and were able to sit in comfort and didn't even have to use Plan B (order a bowl of chips)to assert our rights as ladies of a certain air.
Eventually, we had to take it in turns to descend into the bog of stench (I'm sure there's a labyrinth reference in there but can't quite remember it). On my way down the stairs, I passed a young man who wished me Merry Christmas, so I returned the salutation and went about my business. The smell was actually less bad in the loo than at the top of the stairs.
When I came out and started back up the stairs, he was still there, and called to me as I got half-way up the first flight of steps
Him: Can I ask you a question
Me: Go on then, ask.
Him: would you give me a Christmas kiss under the mistletoe?
Me: there isn't any mistletoe
Him: it's imaginary
Me: OK, you can have an imaginary kiss
Still, terribly flattering, especially since I discovered he wasn't lurking down there asking every woman who passed; he hadn't asked Jane at any rate.
The second drink meant that I didn't get back into the building till about 7.30; cheerfully checking with the security guys that they hadn't locked the garret, I discovered they had. Leaving my laptop open on the desk surrounded by paper and my overnight bag under the coat stand obviously wasn't enough of a signal. They couldn't find the key for almost an hour "because the lock had recently been replaced". I blame the second drink for my being able to remain in good temper.
Having failed dismally to finish the stuff I had planned to polish off before the hols, mostly due to people sending review comments a week late; I got a late-working payoff when I received and forwarded an last gasp email from Mrs Business signing off the test approach I'd been selling her for the last two weeks. RESULT! Conscience immediately cleared, I eviscerated snoopy2 of the battery and DVD drive to save weight and left the building like a kid from the last day of school ~ and took a horribly expensive taxi to Marylebone on the basis I deserved it only to find I'd just missed a train and had to hang around for another half hour.
Giving a couple of quid to a mad old lady who hangs around there sometimes, it was interesting to notice that two other people suddenly started digging in pockets and bags to give her something. Why did they need an example? It meant the time passed quite quickly with a deep conversation between strangers about how the homeless cope, and how easy it is to fall between the cracks in society and end up on the street.
weather
The presenter on the telly is saying we have 'lost' the threat of snow for today, as if that's a bad thing.
I'm wondering if I'll manage to get the car door open when I get back to the station tonight, and how long it might take to get the windows defrosted enough to dare to drive home. All of three miles. I passed on going to see Nine last night; it was freezing and unpleasantly slushy and slippery underfoot so I watched Victoria Wood on telly instead
Yesterday was my first day using the new desk in the penthouse garret with the great and the good, I'm sure there are career points in this somewhere but mostly it only added more distraction to a day that dissipated in meetings instead productivity. Watching the politics at first hand. mmmmm
My son would be proud of me for being nice to a Big Issue seller; the chap appears to be 'new' to the job, angry and upset that people simply ignore him when he's trying to do something for himself instead of sitting on a blanket and just begging. I can see his point. I'm not sure why my son has a soapbox about these guys (and they're almost ALL male) but I do know he's right.
rambling - time for breakfast in the hotel and back to the garret to suffer another day on planet project
I'm wondering if I'll manage to get the car door open when I get back to the station tonight, and how long it might take to get the windows defrosted enough to dare to drive home. All of three miles. I passed on going to see Nine last night; it was freezing and unpleasantly slushy and slippery underfoot so I watched Victoria Wood on telly instead
Yesterday was my first day using the new desk in the penthouse garret with the great and the good, I'm sure there are career points in this somewhere but mostly it only added more distraction to a day that dissipated in meetings instead productivity. Watching the politics at first hand. mmmmm
My son would be proud of me for being nice to a Big Issue seller; the chap appears to be 'new' to the job, angry and upset that people simply ignore him when he's trying to do something for himself instead of sitting on a blanket and just begging. I can see his point. I'm not sure why my son has a soapbox about these guys (and they're almost ALL male) but I do know he's right.
rambling - time for breakfast in the hotel and back to the garret to suffer another day on planet project
Sunday 20 December 2009
Solaced by Solstice
Space and Light
Space:
Finally got someone on freecycle to come and take the 2-seater sofa away, and a couple of the CD tower things. David and Anke stopped in this morning on their way back to Bristol and I handed on some of the sci-fi intercepts so David now has reading material over Christmas and I have oodles more space.
Unfortunately, the shorts expect me to fill it with a Christmas tree *gloom* I usually get away it but they're coming to mine for Christmas Dinner this year (sudden embargos allowing) Looking forward to it; ignoring all temptation to unhappiness
Light:
I finally figured out which bulbs I needed to get so the uplighters all work again *cough* except for the dinky bits to hold the glass in the small lights, cos they fell inside it bah! Blu-tac to the rescue - I have these visions and aspirations for an organised life and they never quite seem to work the way they should
Roll on Wednesday and hols till the end of the year.
PS planning to go see the preview for Nine at Leicester Square tomorrow night. Looking forward to that too!
Finally got someone on freecycle to come and take the 2-seater sofa away, and a couple of the CD tower things. David and Anke stopped in this morning on their way back to Bristol and I handed on some of the sci-fi intercepts so David now has reading material over Christmas and I have oodles more space.
Unfortunately, the shorts expect me to fill it with a Christmas tree *gloom* I usually get away it but they're coming to mine for Christmas Dinner this year (sudden embargos allowing) Looking forward to it; ignoring all temptation to unhappiness
Light:
I finally figured out which bulbs I needed to get so the uplighters all work again *cough* except for the dinky bits to hold the glass in the small lights, cos they fell inside it bah! Blu-tac to the rescue - I have these visions and aspirations for an organised life and they never quite seem to work the way they should
Roll on Wednesday and hols till the end of the year.
PS planning to go see the preview for Nine at Leicester Square tomorrow night. Looking forward to that too!
Thursday 17 December 2009
Surrealists
Last night I went to the Capgemini Christmas jolly at the Dali Universe at County Hall; I still adore Dali. I got minging, stumbling, undoubtedly slurring drunk. Started with a champagne and cassis which had a raspberry surprise waiting at the bottom of the glass, followed, over the course of the evening, by three glasses of white wine.
My old boss, the gorgeous Stephen, was there, still looking like Clint Eastwood, trying to introduce me to my current boss, who was trying to introduce me to him - among 400 or so mostly male colleagues, most of whom I didn’t know or recognise, milling about around sculptures I wanted to just stand and stare at. In the status stakes, I did have the pleasure of watching some serious points rack up when Stephen mentioned that I’d been the test manager on Starhub, probably the biggest international project we’ve ever done. I have a great future behind me.
I did recognise Richard, Rachel’s friend, memorable because I always did forget his name and managed to do so this time too. And Dave Y from the project, looking strange in a DJ but just as down-to-earth and friendly as he always is. I was quite surprised when he said he’s never heard of Dali, had only recently discovered Gaudi, and for some obscure reason thought they were connected. They're both Catalans but a vegetarian architect and a dissolute artist aren't quite in the same game.
There was food, but it was mostly weird stuff to be trying to eat from a bowl: Lincoln sausages and mash; a couple of other options which were equally unappealing so I went large on two bits of chocolate brownies and one beautifully presented miniscule mince pie, about the size of a fat marshmallow.
There were a couple of artists doing caricatures and mine looks like a cruel caricature of the bloody queen; more sigh. I still have it, found it in my coat pocket this morning. I remember that the crowd had thinned a lot when I decided to leave but have a big blank space during which I collected my coat and hat and the next blink was seeing a cheerful but concerned faced chap with a benny hat asking if I was sure I was OK as I fell on the floor getting into a taxi I don’t remember hailing. I also don’t remember getting back to the hotel, or paying the driver, or getting to my room. From the change in my pocket, the fare was £14, and I did still have the money I’d taken out with me.
That’s the one far too many. It was damned dangerous for me to be alone on the street in London in that state, and I’m lucky to have no more than embarrassment to remind me. The cheerful faced chap turns out to be Robbie, a senior programme manager : as I discovered when he wandered into my office today and said, “didn’t I help you into a taxi last night”. I felt very humiliated and blushed a lot.
At least I didn't wake remembering a vivid dream about snogging the face off a colleague to realise it *cough* hadn't been a dream (as happened on a work jolly to the Isle of Wight several years ago)
Moral? Eat first.
My old boss, the gorgeous Stephen, was there, still looking like Clint Eastwood, trying to introduce me to my current boss, who was trying to introduce me to him - among 400 or so mostly male colleagues, most of whom I didn’t know or recognise, milling about around sculptures I wanted to just stand and stare at. In the status stakes, I did have the pleasure of watching some serious points rack up when Stephen mentioned that I’d been the test manager on Starhub, probably the biggest international project we’ve ever done. I have a great future behind me.
I did recognise Richard, Rachel’s friend, memorable because I always did forget his name and managed to do so this time too. And Dave Y from the project, looking strange in a DJ but just as down-to-earth and friendly as he always is. I was quite surprised when he said he’s never heard of Dali, had only recently discovered Gaudi, and for some obscure reason thought they were connected. They're both Catalans but a vegetarian architect and a dissolute artist aren't quite in the same game.
There was food, but it was mostly weird stuff to be trying to eat from a bowl: Lincoln sausages and mash; a couple of other options which were equally unappealing so I went large on two bits of chocolate brownies and one beautifully presented miniscule mince pie, about the size of a fat marshmallow.
There were a couple of artists doing caricatures and mine looks like a cruel caricature of the bloody queen; more sigh. I still have it, found it in my coat pocket this morning. I remember that the crowd had thinned a lot when I decided to leave but have a big blank space during which I collected my coat and hat and the next blink was seeing a cheerful but concerned faced chap with a benny hat asking if I was sure I was OK as I fell on the floor getting into a taxi I don’t remember hailing. I also don’t remember getting back to the hotel, or paying the driver, or getting to my room. From the change in my pocket, the fare was £14, and I did still have the money I’d taken out with me.
That’s the one far too many. It was damned dangerous for me to be alone on the street in London in that state, and I’m lucky to have no more than embarrassment to remind me. The cheerful faced chap turns out to be Robbie, a senior programme manager : as I discovered when he wandered into my office today and said, “didn’t I help you into a taxi last night”. I felt very humiliated and blushed a lot.
At least I didn't wake remembering a vivid dream about snogging the face off a colleague to realise it *cough* hadn't been a dream (as happened on a work jolly to the Isle of Wight several years ago)
Moral? Eat first.
Monday 14 December 2009
when you are 5
when you are five, and you have to go to school on your birthday, going to London for the first time to look at the lions and the polar bear is less enticing than going home to play with the toys you got to look at but not play with when you got up.
So you throw a tearful strop and are old enough not to be distracted by anything until you get your own way, winning big on the birthday bluff that adults won't tell you off 'today'
Men!
So you throw a tearful strop and are old enough not to be distracted by anything until you get your own way, winning big on the birthday bluff that adults won't tell you off 'today'
Men!
working from home
today that involved forgetting to set the phone alarm properly and waking pleasantly at 9:30 Snoopy2 may or may not work; so far I can't get the wireless thingie to switch on, even if I did get the helpdesk to unlock the razz security number generator.
The weekend turned into a major tour of the country: London to home to Leicester on Friday; Leicester to Milton Keynes to home (to visit the other Jean, who was delighted to see me after mmmmmmffff years, me bad) to Chelmsford on Saturday; Chelmsford to Harlow to home on Sunday. Being possessed of a total lack of any sense of direction, I got lost getting to Chelmsford (which isn't fair since I've been there several times) found the TA centre before I found the hotel, knew the hotel is less than a mile away and got directions by phone from someone at the TA centre.
All good, but they directed me to the 'other' Premier Inn. Cost me an extra £3 for the room and doubled taxi fares but I'd had enough driving by then.
Still, fancy dress, cheap booze, jumping disco (mostly the records, unfortunately), good friends, and I was actually DANCING! Hurrah for knees in recovery.
The weekend turned into a major tour of the country: London to home to Leicester on Friday; Leicester to Milton Keynes to home (to visit the other Jean, who was delighted to see me after mmmmmmffff years, me bad) to Chelmsford on Saturday; Chelmsford to Harlow to home on Sunday. Being possessed of a total lack of any sense of direction, I got lost getting to Chelmsford (which isn't fair since I've been there several times) found the TA centre before I found the hotel, knew the hotel is less than a mile away and got directions by phone from someone at the TA centre.
All good, but they directed me to the 'other' Premier Inn. Cost me an extra £3 for the room and doubled taxi fares but I'd had enough driving by then.
Still, fancy dress, cheap booze, jumping disco (mostly the records, unfortunately), good friends, and I was actually DANCING! Hurrah for knees in recovery.
Friday 11 December 2009
Feastive
The season is almost on us, Christmas parties, all those opportunities to eat, drink, spend too much and be swept along with the festive flow.
Two parties this week, Ladies on Wednesday which was great fun; I managed to get and wrap the presents, find and write the cards, except for Donna - sorreee! as I didn't know she was going to be there. P sent me a phonepic of my name in lights which served as a bit of a landmark to let me know I was close.
Looking at a streetmap outside the station got me an admirer; weird! No, I wasn't lost. No, I didn't need any help. No, he didn't know where Eldon Street was. No, I didn't want him to walk with me till I found it. No, I didn't fancy having a drink with him first, or taking his number in case I didn't find my friends. If he followed me, I didn't notice.
Gatecrashed an invite to the dark side of the company last night at The Funny Side and almost all of it WAS funny. I'm trying hard to remember some of the jokes to claim as my own. Taking snoopy back to the hotel before getting to the place meant I missed the food, which was a shame as it did look appetising, and did another buy my own drink before finding out what the magic word was for the bar tab - oh, well.
WALKED back to the hotel again; this is getting to be a habit; there's a positive spiral going on with the leg, the better it gets, the more I can walk easily and do stairs, which makes it get better. I don't mean the spiral walnut jobs, I don't have a wooden leg yet.
Holiday today; time to read the paper over breakfast, and off shortly to get on the next hamsterwheel. WHY did I promise to go to Leicester today? the logistics of getting from there to P's or to Colchester tomorrow for a TA fancy dress party in tine and on time tomorrow is ermmmmm feeling like a bit of a challenge right now.
Verking from home on Monday so I csn take my favourite blonde out for his birthday after school, and then getting back to the hotel so I can go to the 9am start (what!) all day meeting on Tuesday. It's next week already, and another company do, the mothership black tie one at The DaliUniverse. I went there years ago with a friend and her neice, they were finished their tea and buns by the time I emerged, wishing I'd been on my own to have stayed longer. Wondering a little at the quote that, to be a Dali fan, you have to be a masochist
Two parties this week, Ladies on Wednesday which was great fun; I managed to get and wrap the presents, find and write the cards, except for Donna - sorreee! as I didn't know she was going to be there. P sent me a phonepic of my name in lights which served as a bit of a landmark to let me know I was close.
Looking at a streetmap outside the station got me an admirer; weird! No, I wasn't lost. No, I didn't need any help. No, he didn't know where Eldon Street was. No, I didn't want him to walk with me till I found it. No, I didn't fancy having a drink with him first, or taking his number in case I didn't find my friends. If he followed me, I didn't notice.
Gatecrashed an invite to the dark side of the company last night at The Funny Side and almost all of it WAS funny. I'm trying hard to remember some of the jokes to claim as my own. Taking snoopy back to the hotel before getting to the place meant I missed the food, which was a shame as it did look appetising, and did another buy my own drink before finding out what the magic word was for the bar tab - oh, well.
WALKED back to the hotel again; this is getting to be a habit; there's a positive spiral going on with the leg, the better it gets, the more I can walk easily and do stairs, which makes it get better. I don't mean the spiral walnut jobs, I don't have a wooden leg yet.
Holiday today; time to read the paper over breakfast, and off shortly to get on the next hamsterwheel. WHY did I promise to go to Leicester today? the logistics of getting from there to P's or to Colchester tomorrow for a TA fancy dress party in tine and on time tomorrow is ermmmmm feeling like a bit of a challenge right now.
Verking from home on Monday so I csn take my favourite blonde out for his birthday after school, and then getting back to the hotel so I can go to the 9am start (what!) all day meeting on Tuesday. It's next week already, and another company do, the mothership black tie one at The DaliUniverse. I went there years ago with a friend and her neice, they were finished their tea and buns by the time I emerged, wishing I'd been on my own to have stayed longer. Wondering a little at the quote that, to be a Dali fan, you have to be a masochist
Friday 4 December 2009
shoebox
The man finally came out of the cave and turned into Prince Charming, proferring a single scintillating red stiletto on a diamond-studded silver box, which turned out to have a silver bulldog and a queen nestled inside it.
Decode THAT, Armani!
answers on a post(card) please
Decode THAT, Armani!
answers on a post(card) please
Thursday 3 December 2009
Wednesday 2 December 2009
Starring in a life near you
Lovely late birthday treat meal at L'Etoile last night, fabulous food, some Pouilly Fumé I didn't ask the price of, and endless chat. Amazingly enough I WALKED back to the hotel, more amazing in terms of not getting lost than being able to walk that far (ermmm, maybe a mile?) though that's good too. Thoroughly enjoyable evening after a rotten work-poxed day
Good news that my mother's hospital visit was 'only' a scare, not actually pleurisy, 'just' a chest infection. It took a flurry of intersibling phonecalls to track her down at home but at least we've proved teh comms links still work.
Bad news? I'm not entertaining bad news today la-la-la- happy happy, joy joy
this song for me this morning
Good news that my mother's hospital visit was 'only' a scare, not actually pleurisy, 'just' a chest infection. It took a flurry of intersibling phonecalls to track her down at home but at least we've proved teh comms links still work.
Bad news? I'm not entertaining bad news today la-la-la- happy happy, joy joy
this song for me this morning
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