We went to Nicosia/Lefkosia today , walking through no-mans land past the spooky buildings with the silent reproach of bullet-holes
and visited
Selimye Mosque/St Sophia Cathedral and Buyuk Han
There was a beautiful rainbow while we were walking back, which I did photograph, a perfect arc spanning a blue sky above a ruined and abandoned building. The shot in my imagination would have been that same rainbow as a halo around one of the several rolls of razorwire
Friday 17 December 2010
Friday 10 December 2010
Donner und Blitzen, Cyprus Style
this is/was the list of things I remembered about the trip - I may never expand on them but my memory is triggered
Miscommunications: Paul was going to drive me to Gatwick, but he thought the flight was at 10pm rather than that I wanted to leave at 10am. As an example of my relationship with time, that one was quite spectacular. JL's very first school concert was the same day, at 10am, so the priorities were clear. I stepped into the L'Oreal zone and got a rather expensive taxi instead.
Mark was, of course, already there, eating breakfast at Joe's with a pint of Guinness to wash down his full english. He claims the only reason he doesn't do this at home is that there is no draught guinness in his kitchen. My own (non-alcoholic) breakfast was rather tasty.
We bought some duty-free Dewars and Mark sloped off with the bottle, his plastic funnel and the cokes we'd bought at WH Smiths to concoct a cheaper option than sleazyjet's slow trolley service. It took aaaaages! I wondered if some security camera had caught him messing with a funnel in the loo and taken him off for questioning about his terrorist activities but I think he probably had a couple to make room for the mixing.
I don't get a buzz from travelling any more, there is no frisson of excitement about the travelling and I blame my over-frequent business travel for that. Airports and stations are no longer places to automatically head for the bar, I just want to get on the damn plane, or train and get to where I'm going.
Some of that practice means I don't fret about getting to the gate 'early' either. If I'm travelling on business, I have a seat reservation, usually on the aisle, and my bag will go under the seat in front. If I'm on sleazyjet, there will be a seat somewhere on the plane, usually an aisle seat next to a couple travelling together, who stood like cattle for at least an hour longer than I did so they could sit together - and my bag will go under the sear in front.
What is no practised is knowing how long the hike is from the departure lounge to the (eventually) designated gate, in this case probably half a mile. Once we got on the plane, and found seats together(!) we were entertained by seeing the perfectly essex young woman with the pink suitcase who had been sent to the back of the queue when she tried to buck the (just wait, we won't meet your eye because the plane isn't ready yet) system at the gate get on the plane last, with her oversize pink princess pull-along, bleating that it was too heavy for her to lift up into the overhead locker and expecting first-class BA service on a cheapo line. Some idiot managed it all for her, then she got fussed about which seat she wanted. No one smacked her. Pity.
So, settling down to a long and boring trip, I indulged in bits of childish behaviour which means Mark will probably choose to sit on a different plane from me next time we travel, we hit a lovely little bounce over the Alps in the middle of a storm. Lots of bumpy turbulence, VERY bumpy turbulence, enough to generate a bit of very noticeable weightlessness, WHEEEE!
Mark wet himself . Well OK, it wsa more the wearing of the (red) wine which slopped all over his lap while the plane was jinking about. The very camp steward noticed (what was he doing gazing at Mark's crotch?) and appeared with a wodge of paper towels and a look of terrible dilemna on his face as he wrestled with the temptation to dab away himself or to let Mark do it himself. There was a definite spark between him and the steward, one of the fat blue static kind; at least that's the only one I saw.
The chap sat next to us looked very much like the Czech boss I used to have and listened avidly to our conversation (particularly my childish idiocies about are we there yet, elbow fights over the armrest, whiny voice and soi-disant witty comments). He didn't so much join our conversation as comment on it, which seemed a bit weird.
As a follow-up to the alpine drop, we got to Cyprus larnaca airspace at the same time as three humungous thunderstorms. Seatbelt signs on, barked messages to the crew from the pilot, including a strained-sounding "cabin crew to your seats NOW" and the pilot told us we couldn't land but would be playing tag with the storms until we either found a clear bit to land between them or started to run out of fuel and would have to land at Paphos, about eighty miles away.
It was WONDEREFUL! While we dodged about in the sky above and between the storms, we saw towering lightning, flashes about a mile long between pillars of cloud lit in stark majesty that would challenge any special effects film. I wasn't looking forward to having our journey extended by a detour to Paphos and wondered idly what would happen if the storms were there too. Just how much fuel DID the plane have?
Eventually, the pilot saw a gap and took us through a corridor of teeth-gritting superbumps to land to a storm of more than token applause from the passengers. I think he deserved some kind of medal for that trip.
The rain was absolutely torrential, we chatted for a while with an old couple who told us all about their place in the north, their friends, their garden, chapters from their life stories and then, when their car turned up to collect them, blanked us so completely they didn't even say goodbye.
We arrived at Maria's, I unloaded the two or three kilos of chocolate I'd brought, and we got stuck into a much apreciated chilli Christina had cooked for us. Settling down to a couple of drinks and catch-up, listening to the rain, we wandered outside for a cigarette which was fortuituous since Maria spotted the unexpected swimming pool on the terrace. The living room has a huge expanse of full-length windows with about an inch of frame at the bottom, and almost an inch of water on the terrace. Mops and brushes were weilded and the drainage holes unblocked to let the water flood down the drainpipes instead of over the living room floor.
I did my own pugwash impression an hour or so later, trousers rolled to half-mast and getting soaked by warm rain and giggling a lot.,
Saturday
The HAT!!!! And the Ronnie Barker Sugar and Spice
Blue Pine
• Mammoth chop
• Red red wine
• Sidney – second wind – etc
• JD hair
Sunday
Scirocco –
• Cashmere
• clothessssssssssssssss
Miscommunications: Paul was going to drive me to Gatwick, but he thought the flight was at 10pm rather than that I wanted to leave at 10am. As an example of my relationship with time, that one was quite spectacular. JL's very first school concert was the same day, at 10am, so the priorities were clear. I stepped into the L'Oreal zone and got a rather expensive taxi instead.
Mark was, of course, already there, eating breakfast at Joe's with a pint of Guinness to wash down his full english. He claims the only reason he doesn't do this at home is that there is no draught guinness in his kitchen. My own (non-alcoholic) breakfast was rather tasty.
We bought some duty-free Dewars and Mark sloped off with the bottle, his plastic funnel and the cokes we'd bought at WH Smiths to concoct a cheaper option than sleazyjet's slow trolley service. It took aaaaages! I wondered if some security camera had caught him messing with a funnel in the loo and taken him off for questioning about his terrorist activities but I think he probably had a couple to make room for the mixing.
I don't get a buzz from travelling any more, there is no frisson of excitement about the travelling and I blame my over-frequent business travel for that. Airports and stations are no longer places to automatically head for the bar, I just want to get on the damn plane, or train and get to where I'm going.
Some of that practice means I don't fret about getting to the gate 'early' either. If I'm travelling on business, I have a seat reservation, usually on the aisle, and my bag will go under the seat in front. If I'm on sleazyjet, there will be a seat somewhere on the plane, usually an aisle seat next to a couple travelling together, who stood like cattle for at least an hour longer than I did so they could sit together - and my bag will go under the sear in front.
What is no practised is knowing how long the hike is from the departure lounge to the (eventually) designated gate, in this case probably half a mile. Once we got on the plane, and found seats together(!) we were entertained by seeing the perfectly essex young woman with the pink suitcase who had been sent to the back of the queue when she tried to buck the (just wait, we won't meet your eye because the plane isn't ready yet) system at the gate get on the plane last, with her oversize pink princess pull-along, bleating that it was too heavy for her to lift up into the overhead locker and expecting first-class BA service on a cheapo line. Some idiot managed it all for her, then she got fussed about which seat she wanted. No one smacked her. Pity.
So, settling down to a long and boring trip, I indulged in bits of childish behaviour which means Mark will probably choose to sit on a different plane from me next time we travel, we hit a lovely little bounce over the Alps in the middle of a storm. Lots of bumpy turbulence, VERY bumpy turbulence, enough to generate a bit of very noticeable weightlessness, WHEEEE!
Mark wet himself . Well OK, it wsa more the wearing of the (red) wine which slopped all over his lap while the plane was jinking about. The very camp steward noticed (what was he doing gazing at Mark's crotch?) and appeared with a wodge of paper towels and a look of terrible dilemna on his face as he wrestled with the temptation to dab away himself or to let Mark do it himself. There was a definite spark between him and the steward, one of the fat blue static kind; at least that's the only one I saw.
The chap sat next to us looked very much like the Czech boss I used to have and listened avidly to our conversation (particularly my childish idiocies about are we there yet, elbow fights over the armrest, whiny voice and soi-disant witty comments). He didn't so much join our conversation as comment on it, which seemed a bit weird.
As a follow-up to the alpine drop, we got to Cyprus larnaca airspace at the same time as three humungous thunderstorms. Seatbelt signs on, barked messages to the crew from the pilot, including a strained-sounding "cabin crew to your seats NOW" and the pilot told us we couldn't land but would be playing tag with the storms until we either found a clear bit to land between them or started to run out of fuel and would have to land at Paphos, about eighty miles away.
It was WONDEREFUL! While we dodged about in the sky above and between the storms, we saw towering lightning, flashes about a mile long between pillars of cloud lit in stark majesty that would challenge any special effects film. I wasn't looking forward to having our journey extended by a detour to Paphos and wondered idly what would happen if the storms were there too. Just how much fuel DID the plane have?
Eventually, the pilot saw a gap and took us through a corridor of teeth-gritting superbumps to land to a storm of more than token applause from the passengers. I think he deserved some kind of medal for that trip.
The rain was absolutely torrential, we chatted for a while with an old couple who told us all about their place in the north, their friends, their garden, chapters from their life stories and then, when their car turned up to collect them, blanked us so completely they didn't even say goodbye.
We arrived at Maria's, I unloaded the two or three kilos of chocolate I'd brought, and we got stuck into a much apreciated chilli Christina had cooked for us. Settling down to a couple of drinks and catch-up, listening to the rain, we wandered outside for a cigarette which was fortuituous since Maria spotted the unexpected swimming pool on the terrace. The living room has a huge expanse of full-length windows with about an inch of frame at the bottom, and almost an inch of water on the terrace. Mops and brushes were weilded and the drainage holes unblocked to let the water flood down the drainpipes instead of over the living room floor.
I did my own pugwash impression an hour or so later, trousers rolled to half-mast and getting soaked by warm rain and giggling a lot.,
Saturday
The HAT!!!! And the Ronnie Barker Sugar and Spice
Blue Pine
• Mammoth chop
• Red red wine
• Sidney – second wind – etc
• JD hair
Sunday
Scirocco –
• Cashmere
• clothessssssssssssssss
Sunday 5 December 2010
Lazy Sunday
I didn't realise how much I needed to be cheered up until I spoke to da man on the phone earlier today, and later read an email from a friend I haven't been in contact with for a while. Now I am cheered.
On the ffs side; getting myself another drink and chucking the obligatory five ice-cubes into the huge crystal wine glass con brio , I heard a crystal chingggg and thought an ice cube had missed the glass. Then the scotch I poured into the glass poured out over the kitchen counter through the hole made by the ice cubes. Hilarious. Now I am using the last of the four latest lovely glasses. It really does taste different, trust me! With luck, Cargo still sell them and this last one will last until I get to the shop for reinforcements.
On the happy news side of things, I found the single missing piece of glass without using my naked foot. I really need to stop adding con brio, it plays mayhem with my collection of crystal glasses.
Then, just to make life more interesting, I checked how many players were left in the software poker tournament and discovered there were only nine of eighty left ~ and closed the window by mistake. pfffffffffffffft!!!!!!!!!!!!
On the ffs side; getting myself another drink and chucking the obligatory five ice-cubes into the huge crystal wine glass con brio , I heard a crystal chingggg and thought an ice cube had missed the glass. Then the scotch I poured into the glass poured out over the kitchen counter through the hole made by the ice cubes. Hilarious. Now I am using the last of the four latest lovely glasses. It really does taste different, trust me! With luck, Cargo still sell them and this last one will last until I get to the shop for reinforcements.
On the happy news side of things, I found the single missing piece of glass without using my naked foot. I really need to stop adding con brio, it plays mayhem with my collection of crystal glasses.
Then, just to make life more interesting, I checked how many players were left in the software poker tournament and discovered there were only nine of eighty left ~ and closed the window by mistake. pfffffffffffffft!!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday 4 December 2010
Missed
another red devil - by £50
maybe Santa will bring me one, I've been very good!
I'm just tormenting myself; I decided how much I wanted to pay, and was outbid. Obviously wasn't meant to be
But I did get the hat to match the new coat and ordered the gloves to match them
Going off to the hundred pound shop now ....
I'm just tormenting myself; I decided how much I wanted to pay, and was outbid. Obviously wasn't meant to be
But I did get the hat to match the new coat and ordered the gloves to match them
Going off to the hundred pound shop now ....
Friday 26 November 2010
bad hair day
I suspect I left the hair dye on a bit too long...... waiting for it to dry properly to see how loud it is
Friday 19 November 2010
Little Sylvia
She always preferred to be called Sylvie, as her mother had been. She was my father's cousin, they grew up together, and I was fortunate enough to spend time with both of them and to hear some of the stories from their childhood.
The chance to hear more of those stories, and to feel connected with my father by talking about him with his closest living relative closed when her God took her home last night. It was quick, and unexpected, and I hope she felt neither fear nor pain. I think she is 75, as my father would have been, and an inspiration to everyone as a caring, interested and lovely lady with a truly wicked sense of humour and unstoppable sense of fun.
I am glad we went to the island in May, although we didn't see each other often, I will miss her terribly. My loss is insignificant in comparison to the pain her husband and children must be feeling. God grant her, and them, peace.
The chance to hear more of those stories, and to feel connected with my father by talking about him with his closest living relative closed when her God took her home last night. It was quick, and unexpected, and I hope she felt neither fear nor pain. I think she is 75, as my father would have been, and an inspiration to everyone as a caring, interested and lovely lady with a truly wicked sense of humour and unstoppable sense of fun.
I am glad we went to the island in May, although we didn't see each other often, I will miss her terribly. My loss is insignificant in comparison to the pain her husband and children must be feeling. God grant her, and them, peace.
Wednesday 17 November 2010
Notatall Slobbering
I'm confused. I think it's because I'm in some unpronounceable town in Germany, OK, Nettetal-Lobberich near Munchengladbach, which I always thought was a made up name from Scotland The What, and outside an eclectic collection of alcohol.
I may copy this to the blog since tomorrow will be hellish as today was.
Boy boss is a total nightmare as a driver.
I'm obviously overrun with pheromones at the moment and keep finding men flirting with me ( the weird tall Dr Who type in Schickeria tonight was a bit scary).
Fortunately I had an honour guard of 3 colleagues, all of whom would have been foxing hopeless if he had got out of hand
Child from Kodak sweet-talked the bar landlady into giving him the Johnny Walker logo glass so he could give it to me. He did offer to pay for it but her missing English and our hopeless German made that a bit tricky.
This was 'our' bar, the only place open at 11pm last night after flight delays due to fog and terrifying drive through thick fog in a brand new 9kilometres on the clock Galaxy. Boy boss couldn't cope with parking despite parking proximity alarms but wouldn't let anyone else do it either. The hotelier eventually came out and moved his own car to give him a double space to aim at
A long cold walk through deserted foggy streets finally led us to the only place that seemed to be open, where they rustled up a plate of chips and ham & cheese baguettes which made us more nearly human
No place here takes any of our cash or credit cards so we have now cleared out all available euros and are not sure if the hotel bills can be covered tomorrow.
Please pay the ransom if they keep me hostage. That weirdo in the bar might fetch up again.
Tired. Probably more drunk than I think after a quiet scotch & coke after work, several beers, Jagermeister, more beer, free shot of fruit vodka and a couple of JWreds. Ah. And the scotch & coke I'm having now.
The upshot of all this is that I won't be back in Blighty till midnight on Thur ; plotting to play poker with my beloved infant on Friday and/or see Sid - and Mark doesn't have to cook dinner because CollAnne are supposed to be feeding us on Sat.
I may copy this to the blog since tomorrow will be hellish as today was.
Boy boss is a total nightmare as a driver.
I'm obviously overrun with pheromones at the moment and keep finding men flirting with me ( the weird tall Dr Who type in Schickeria tonight was a bit scary).
Fortunately I had an honour guard of 3 colleagues, all of whom would have been foxing hopeless if he had got out of hand
Child from Kodak sweet-talked the bar landlady into giving him the Johnny Walker logo glass so he could give it to me. He did offer to pay for it but her missing English and our hopeless German made that a bit tricky.
This was 'our' bar, the only place open at 11pm last night after flight delays due to fog and terrifying drive through thick fog in a brand new 9kilometres on the clock Galaxy. Boy boss couldn't cope with parking despite parking proximity alarms but wouldn't let anyone else do it either. The hotelier eventually came out and moved his own car to give him a double space to aim at
A long cold walk through deserted foggy streets finally led us to the only place that seemed to be open, where they rustled up a plate of chips and ham & cheese baguettes which made us more nearly human
No place here takes any of our cash or credit cards so we have now cleared out all available euros and are not sure if the hotel bills can be covered tomorrow.
Please pay the ransom if they keep me hostage. That weirdo in the bar might fetch up again.
Tired. Probably more drunk than I think after a quiet scotch & coke after work, several beers, Jagermeister, more beer, free shot of fruit vodka and a couple of JWreds. Ah. And the scotch & coke I'm having now.
The upshot of all this is that I won't be back in Blighty till midnight on Thur ; plotting to play poker with my beloved infant on Friday and/or see Sid - and Mark doesn't have to cook dinner because CollAnne are supposed to be feeding us on Sat.
Monday 8 November 2010
Lost Weekend
lounged yesterday. The shorts were wheeled in for a couple of hours before a BBQ that was cancelled so they were here all afternoon.
We watched (most of) Mary Poppins, found cheeseburgers in the freezer which dealt with their dinner, my son paid for our dinner from the takeaway, with top-up chips for the shorts, and I got into building Cosmopolitans which caused me to go to bed very early.
This morning has been a series of discoveries. Since I have no recollection of doing any of it, some house elf or Mac Nac Feegles have been in and dealt with domestic duties. Like.... finished loading the dishwasher before switching it on; switching off my computer, opening the curtains, switching off the lights, and washing up the fragile crystal martini glass I was drinking from. Twitter input seems fairly innoccuous, but the 'not fair' quote and link was from dim and distant, not last night. Maybe Chronos is getting freudian on me
I'm glad I gave a bodyswerve to everything I could/should have done this weekend as I feel totally relaxed now. Apologies to everyone I should have visited or contacted.
mmm, catchup:
I cried mercy on going to Germany last week and so had only the Holland trip to deal with. The Kodak guys were there too, improving the social aspects by telling evil after-dinner jokes when the boy had gone to bed and fencing work conversations. The high spot of evening entertainments was fishing fifty euro out of my wallet to offer the boy boss when he said he would jump in the lake we were standing next to if anyone offered 50euro. He welshed.
The plane took off at the time it should have been landing at Heathrow, trashing what might have been half an evening at home, getting there on Wednesday took forever since the later flight misses the direct trains to Den Bosch and I had to hang around in Utrecht for a connection. For someone who says she hasn't been anywhere, I seem to have been to far too many places. Unfortunately, lots of these are for work and don't involve any touristing. Last time I was there I saw a sign for an Hieronymus Bosch museum and it turns out he was born there, but the museum only has copies of his paintings.
We watched (most of) Mary Poppins, found cheeseburgers in the freezer which dealt with their dinner, my son paid for our dinner from the takeaway, with top-up chips for the shorts, and I got into building Cosmopolitans which caused me to go to bed very early.
This morning has been a series of discoveries. Since I have no recollection of doing any of it, some house elf or Mac Nac Feegles have been in and dealt with domestic duties. Like.... finished loading the dishwasher before switching it on; switching off my computer, opening the curtains, switching off the lights, and washing up the fragile crystal martini glass I was drinking from. Twitter input seems fairly innoccuous, but the 'not fair' quote and link was from dim and distant, not last night. Maybe Chronos is getting freudian on me
I'm glad I gave a bodyswerve to everything I could/should have done this weekend as I feel totally relaxed now. Apologies to everyone I should have visited or contacted.
mmm, catchup:
I cried mercy on going to Germany last week and so had only the Holland trip to deal with. The Kodak guys were there too, improving the social aspects by telling evil after-dinner jokes when the boy had gone to bed and fencing work conversations. The high spot of evening entertainments was fishing fifty euro out of my wallet to offer the boy boss when he said he would jump in the lake we were standing next to if anyone offered 50euro. He welshed.
The plane took off at the time it should have been landing at Heathrow, trashing what might have been half an evening at home, getting there on Wednesday took forever since the later flight misses the direct trains to Den Bosch and I had to hang around in Utrecht for a connection. For someone who says she hasn't been anywhere, I seem to have been to far too many places. Unfortunately, lots of these are for work and don't involve any touristing. Last time I was there I saw a sign for an Hieronymus Bosch museum and it turns out he was born there, but the museum only has copies of his paintings.
Wednesday 27 October 2010
Hollandaise sauce
I'm currently using a random wifi connection that doesn't need password or payment and very grateful for that. Bit cheeky I know but I also know that my track record for submitting and claiming expenses is abysmal so any avoidance of charges has to be good. It's just a real shame that it only seems to work in, or directly outside, the civilised smoking room they have in the hotel.
The boy wonder continues to be a nightmare to work with but I am making the most of this couple of days to grab as much info as I can from the team to be able to influence the project direction and make my working life easier. Dining alone isn't usually my favourite pastime but not having to take care of someone else's ego during dinner last night was a relief.
My 'niece' Donna had a camera on Saturday, I'd forgotten all about that till I got a facebook message to say I'd been tagged - oops. Getting drunk around drunk people with cameras and facebook accounts is always a dangerous procedure ~ but a nice reminder of an enjoyable night out.
Home tomorrow night, and then the juggling act to squeeze in everything I want to do before I go to chermanee for Monday, then back to Den Bosch for Thur/Fri. The following week is already under siege but I ought to be in the UK until the 16th at least. I'm looking forward being at home even if it will only be for a week at best.
OK, enough sauce, I'm off to find out if it has stopped raining so I can visit the 'street of restaurants' and check out the local eyecandy with a nice glass of something....
tot de volgende tijd
The boy wonder continues to be a nightmare to work with but I am making the most of this couple of days to grab as much info as I can from the team to be able to influence the project direction and make my working life easier. Dining alone isn't usually my favourite pastime but not having to take care of someone else's ego during dinner last night was a relief.
My 'niece' Donna had a camera on Saturday, I'd forgotten all about that till I got a facebook message to say I'd been tagged - oops. Getting drunk around drunk people with cameras and facebook accounts is always a dangerous procedure ~ but a nice reminder of an enjoyable night out.
Home tomorrow night, and then the juggling act to squeeze in everything I want to do before I go to chermanee for Monday, then back to Den Bosch for Thur/Fri. The following week is already under siege but I ought to be in the UK until the 16th at least. I'm looking forward being at home even if it will only be for a week at best.
OK, enough sauce, I'm off to find out if it has stopped raining so I can visit the 'street of restaurants' and check out the local eyecandy with a nice glass of something....
tot de volgende tijd
Sunday 24 October 2010
leaving home
Last night was a stunner, after eventual breakfast at my mother's; and the unexpected pleasure of having a visit from her cousin Robert while we there there, my sister and I toured about town (which has become unbelievably shabby since I was last here) I declared stumps and we retired to the Old Schoolhouse for coffee and the ability to sit outside and enjpy a cigarette with it.
We decided to eat on the balcony there and to have a final drink on the outside terrace with more smoking, and so it was done. We split a bottle of wine with a pleasant meal before going back down to the bar and ordering our drinks.
Out of nowhere, a tall good-looking young man accosted my sister. How much coincidence to find our 'Nephew', his sister, her fiancé, their best man, and later their parents, to be in the same pub we'd picked by chance? We ought to apologise for gatecrashing and practically taking over the leaving party they were at, but it was so wonderful to spend the time with them all. I'd forgotten how raw a Saturday night in town can be, and am entirely out of practice in situations where people know what I drink and just keep setting them up. It means I entirely lose track of how MUCH I'm drinking. The saving grace was probably that the drunk fishmerchant trying to chat me up, entirely disbelieving I was on the phone with my lover, managed to knock over my drink when I was outside, and my sister managed to knock over the next drink when I got back inside. We were pretty much slaughtered and didn't leave till about midnight, but then, Oh surprise! carried on drinking (martinis by then for me) and sharing deeply emotional sister2sister conversation.
Top night; I'm sad to be going home today, and even more sad that I'm not actually going to get home to my own house but to an hotel in Holland where I will be until Thursday night. Double invites for Saturday, an attempt to fit in seeing my brother and his wife who left for MK the day after I came up here, and the shorts, who I miss, before probably losing next Sunday afternoon and evening to travel to Germany.
"However the sky grows dark with invitations, However we follow the printed directions for sex, beneath it all...." (Larkin)
PS my sister did my ironing today and we're about to have another drink in the house before I get back on the hamsterwheel and set off for Schiphol. *wail!* I don't want to go!!!
We decided to eat on the balcony there and to have a final drink on the outside terrace with more smoking, and so it was done. We split a bottle of wine with a pleasant meal before going back down to the bar and ordering our drinks.
Out of nowhere, a tall good-looking young man accosted my sister. How much coincidence to find our 'Nephew', his sister, her fiancé, their best man, and later their parents, to be in the same pub we'd picked by chance? We ought to apologise for gatecrashing and practically taking over the leaving party they were at, but it was so wonderful to spend the time with them all. I'd forgotten how raw a Saturday night in town can be, and am entirely out of practice in situations where people know what I drink and just keep setting them up. It means I entirely lose track of how MUCH I'm drinking. The saving grace was probably that the drunk fishmerchant trying to chat me up, entirely disbelieving I was on the phone with my lover, managed to knock over my drink when I was outside, and my sister managed to knock over the next drink when I got back inside. We were pretty much slaughtered and didn't leave till about midnight, but then, Oh surprise! carried on drinking (martinis by then for me) and sharing deeply emotional sister2sister conversation.
Top night; I'm sad to be going home today, and even more sad that I'm not actually going to get home to my own house but to an hotel in Holland where I will be until Thursday night. Double invites for Saturday, an attempt to fit in seeing my brother and his wife who left for MK the day after I came up here, and the shorts, who I miss, before probably losing next Sunday afternoon and evening to travel to Germany.
"However the sky grows dark with invitations, However we follow the printed directions for sex, beneath it all...." (Larkin)
PS my sister did my ironing today and we're about to have another drink in the house before I get back on the hamsterwheel and set off for Schiphol. *wail!* I don't want to go!!!
Saturday 23 October 2010
backed off
Enjoying my two days holiday in Aberdeen at my sister's, wondering where the time barrier is between breakfast and lunch since we are supposed to be at my mother's for breakfast this morning.
I'm out of words. I've shared them all with my sister-in-law who collected me from the airport on Thursday, my mother who cried when I arrived unexpectedly on her birthday, my brother, my favourite nephew and his gorgeous girlfriend who also came to my mother's chosen "rated number 1 in the UK" restaurant for her birthday meal and especially with my sister.
Dressing up for dinner seemed a bit OTT so I didn't, and thoroughly enjoyed a proper seaside meal, meltingly good smoked haddock and chips, followed by a knickerbocker glory complete with tinned mixed fruit and cloyingly sweet thick icecream. Having moved my bank account and unable to get to the major dosh in transit between old and new accounts, my nephew rolled up with a bithday card for me stuffed with scottish notes which may well disappear on our shopping trip this afternoon.
No, he's not that generous, it was payment for Edinburgh in August which has been floating in the bank system since then and only found it's way back into his account this week.
Steak and butcher burgers for dinner last night, and the amazement of seeing both eggs turn out to be double-yolked. Proper farm eggs, from a farm, not a supermarket.
Fly in the ointment was squeaky and the dutch manager calling me yesterday; especially since the message is that they want me to be in Germany extra days next month. I'll think about it on Monday, I'm on holiday!
Next holiday: December and sunny Cyprus!
I'm out of words. I've shared them all with my sister-in-law who collected me from the airport on Thursday, my mother who cried when I arrived unexpectedly on her birthday, my brother, my favourite nephew and his gorgeous girlfriend who also came to my mother's chosen "rated number 1 in the UK" restaurant for her birthday meal and especially with my sister.
Dressing up for dinner seemed a bit OTT so I didn't, and thoroughly enjoyed a proper seaside meal, meltingly good smoked haddock and chips, followed by a knickerbocker glory complete with tinned mixed fruit and cloyingly sweet thick icecream. Having moved my bank account and unable to get to the major dosh in transit between old and new accounts, my nephew rolled up with a bithday card for me stuffed with scottish notes which may well disappear on our shopping trip this afternoon.
No, he's not that generous, it was payment for Edinburgh in August which has been floating in the bank system since then and only found it's way back into his account this week.
Steak and butcher burgers for dinner last night, and the amazement of seeing both eggs turn out to be double-yolked. Proper farm eggs, from a farm, not a supermarket.
Fly in the ointment was squeaky and the dutch manager calling me yesterday; especially since the message is that they want me to be in Germany extra days next month. I'll think about it on Monday, I'm on holiday!
Next holiday: December and sunny Cyprus!
Tuesday 19 October 2010
facebook link It's ludicrous that the social engineering wallahs can't seem to get out of their ivory towers enough to see that this stuff isn't just theory. I truly believe that the majority of people not working WOULD work if they could find a job that brought in enough to keep themselves and their families. Council tax, private renting, cost of travel, cost of childcare and getting over unemployed de-conditioning alongside the terror of being out on the street are exacerbated by over-complicated and unfair taxation rules. Minimum wage should be completely tax-free, for everyone. Travel costs and time should be paid (at some level) for everyone. Small business employers get stiffed by complex tax, National Insuranceand employment legislation rules alongside stupid 'schemes' where they can sometimes be paid several times more than the person they are 'helping'. That's OUR money, not the government's - the government don't HAVE any money except what they collect in taxes. I pay tax, I work long hours, I am reasonably-well funded but very time-poor. Like most of the other reducing number of tax-payers, I am my notice period & savings away from trying to live on £50 a week. .....
Libertarian and liberalist I might be, but I resent working for a nothing future; the unemployed and unemployable are suffering a nothing present without much hope of any change in their future. Shoot them, put them out of their misery, or do something tangible to give them back their pride instead of targeting the headlines with cheap shots about cheats and punishment for the un-abled
/end rant/
Libertarian and liberalist I might be, but I resent working for a nothing future; the unemployed and unemployable are suffering a nothing present without much hope of any change in their future. Shoot them, put them out of their misery, or do something tangible to give them back their pride instead of targeting the headlines with cheap shots about cheats and punishment for the un-abled
/end rant/
Wednesday 13 October 2010
tomato soup
chicken soup might be good for the soul but porn star martini's are good for birthdays ~ deep appreciation for everyone who helped make my birthday special
Saturday 9 October 2010
work/life unbalanced
0919, not long up, and already feeling stressed again; more so if anything. It’s Judy's birthday and I feel it matters enormously that I should get there today, but I so wish it wasn’t for noon; I need to leave at 10:30 to maybe get there in time.
I can’t do this; the effective scenariois was: words on the right are the update
1. leave for East London and Judy's irthday at 10am Birthday card/gift
2. arrive at Becton at noon Took the wrong exit on the A406 and had to retrace. Found her house but they were at the pub. Directions were wrong and I overflowed
3. share Judy's birthday Got to the pub at about 1330; Judy loved her pink presents and recognised the silk of the scarf *happy*
4. travel to Victoria and the O’Brien’s birthday for 5:30 Cancelled
5. stay in London at Mark’s Cancelled
6. leave for Heathrow at 12:30 Re-scheduled for Paul to drive me at 1pm from home
7. flight to Amsterdam at 1600
7a train to s'Hertzogenbosch consorting with squeaky again but at least we won't be sitting together and I have my new Kindle to play with
Groan* working with the blonde boss. I actually HAVE done some thinking; if he and 80% set objectives, then I want to know what they are – NOW. I also want to know specifics of milestones and deliverables. How we get there is manageable even if impossible
8. 2 days in Veghel working too hard need Laptop, Business clothes and shoes
9. Taxi to station ½ hour Noon latest to leave. Thankfully alone to unwind and de-stress
10. Train to Schiphol 1 hour More unwind and de-stress time
11. Flight to Heathrow 1.5 hours => 15:30 Even MORE unwind and de-stress time
12. Home or Mark’s?? Mark’s.
13. Brickhouse for 7pm. From home 2 hrs, from Mark’s 1 hr Party clothes and shoes
14. Day off at Mark’s
15. Office by 9am Laptop, Business clothes and shoes in place
1934 NOW, AT HOME. Sid called just after I got back to the house, and we were on the phone for almost an hour. I have promised I will go over there; ironing, packing and sorting myself out are once more in abeyance.
I went back to Judy’s after the pub and met her adorable little dog, leaving at 1640 and still managing to screw up directions. Maybe I’m short of B-vitamins.
So, the revised plan. I get Paul to drive me to the airport tomorrow; I go to Mark’s from Heathrow on Tuesday, from his to the Brickhouse for my birthday celebration and to work on Thursday by train from Mark’s, leaving my clothes at his to collect at the weekend.
Weekend 16th is the poker regional finals at Brighton. Mark sounds very keen that I should go with him. (*item: Mathijs wants me to be in Verden some days of the week 18th-22nd – I am on holiday 21-24, flight gets into Luton at 22.30 and I need to be at home and organised the evening of the 20th.)
Weekend 23/24 I will still be away but need to get to Viersen on the Sunday night ready for PAM workshop 2. That will be another nightmare since, although I may be able to get a flight direct to Amsterdam, it will mean taking the laptop and business clothes with me.
Weekend 30th I am invited to, and plan to attend a do N&N are running on the Saturday afternoon, I missed their first one and need to show some support! At least the next workshop, location tba - Dusseldorf??? is planned for the 4th/5th and not the Monday/Tuesday
Weekend November 6th I will have got back from 2 days in Viersen, Veghel or Verden. Will life seem less frantic then? It might be the first available weekend to have some quality time with the shorts. I did see them on Monday evening after work; the gorgeous blonde is reading everything he can lay his hands on and the minxcat from hell is being pretty gorgeous. We won’t mention the lipstick scribbles on the mirror in the cloakroom, it means she loves me (and that I need to keep my makeup out of her reach)
Fighting off the guilt and sad I'm missing the candlelit dinner Mark had planned for me tonight. He's forgiven me, so he says. I've almost forgiven myself. At any rate I am much more calm than I have beeen since yesterday morning
I can’t do this; the effective scenario
1. leave for East London and Judy's irthday at 10am Birthday card/gift
2. arrive at Becton at noon Took the wrong exit on the A406 and had to retrace. Found her house but they were at the pub. Directions were wrong and I overflowed
3. share Judy's birthday Got to the pub at about 1330; Judy loved her pink presents and recognised the silk of the scarf *happy*
4. travel to Victoria and the O’Brien’s birthday for 5:30 Cancelled
5. stay in London at Mark’s Cancelled
6. leave for Heathrow at 12:30 Re-scheduled for Paul to drive me at 1pm from home
7. flight to Amsterdam at 1600
7a train to s'Hertzogenbosch consorting with squeaky again but at least we won't be sitting together and I have my new Kindle to play with
Groan* working with the blonde boss. I actually HAVE done some thinking; if he and 80% set objectives, then I want to know what they are – NOW. I also want to know specifics of milestones and deliverables. How we get there is manageable even if impossible
8. 2 days in Veghel working too hard need Laptop, Business clothes and shoes
9. Taxi to station ½ hour Noon latest to leave. Thankfully alone to unwind and de-stress
10. Train to Schiphol 1 hour More unwind and de-stress time
11. Flight to Heathrow 1.5 hours => 15:30 Even MORE unwind and de-stress time
12. Home or Mark’s?? Mark’s.
13. Brickhouse for 7pm. From home 2 hrs, from Mark’s 1 hr Party clothes and shoes
14. Day off at Mark’s
15. Office by 9am Laptop, Business clothes and shoes in place
1934 NOW, AT HOME. Sid called just after I got back to the house, and we were on the phone for almost an hour. I have promised I will go over there; ironing, packing and sorting myself out are once more in abeyance.
I went back to Judy’s after the pub and met her adorable little dog, leaving at 1640 and still managing to screw up directions. Maybe I’m short of B-vitamins.
So, the revised plan. I get Paul to drive me to the airport tomorrow; I go to Mark’s from Heathrow on Tuesday, from his to the Brickhouse for my birthday celebration and to work on Thursday by train from Mark’s, leaving my clothes at his to collect at the weekend.
Weekend 16th is the poker regional finals at Brighton. Mark sounds very keen that I should go with him. (*item: Mathijs wants me to be in Verden some days of the week 18th-22nd – I am on holiday 21-24, flight gets into Luton at 22.30 and I need to be at home and organised the evening of the 20th.)
Weekend 23/24 I will still be away but need to get to Viersen on the Sunday night ready for PAM workshop 2. That will be another nightmare since, although I may be able to get a flight direct to Amsterdam, it will mean taking the laptop and business clothes with me.
Weekend 30th I am invited to, and plan to attend a do N&N are running on the Saturday afternoon, I missed their first one and need to show some support! At least the next workshop, location tba - Dusseldorf??? is planned for the 4th/5th and not the Monday/Tuesday
Weekend November 6th I will have got back from 2 days in Viersen, Veghel or Verden. Will life seem less frantic then? It might be the first available weekend to have some quality time with the shorts. I did see them on Monday evening after work; the gorgeous blonde is reading everything he can lay his hands on and the minxcat from hell is being pretty gorgeous. We won’t mention the lipstick scribbles on the mirror in the cloakroom, it means she loves me (and that I need to keep my makeup out of her reach)
Fighting off the guilt and sad I'm missing the candlelit dinner Mark had planned for me tonight. He's forgiven me, so he says. I've almost forgiven myself. At any rate I am much more calm than I have beeen since yesterday morning
Tuesday 21 September 2010
flickering
today has been endless, and I need to aim for being IN the office by 8am tomorrow. yes, yes.
I fired up the machine just now to pay Boris £8 for the pleasure of having a second cup of coffee this morning and actually managed not to get lost finding the A4 to get to work this time. If they do rescind the western patch of congested extortion, I suppose the congestion will spread freely and make that option as long as the other one, but both of them shorter.
Update on the car business; I was right, 30 seconds to declare it an insurance write-off; an "uneconomic repair". I asked sweetly how much was uneconomic and triggered the script about how they can't tell me until they assess the damage. The irony escapes them. The write-off was declared by whoever fetched the car from Bermondsey to take it to a garage for damage assessment. The courtesy car is therefore only allowable for 48 hours; offered a week after the accident; I hadn't realised insurance companies offered stasis as part of their instant care package; obviously I didn't need to do anything or go anywhere until they got round to doing something about the claim
Birthday arranged and paid for; sales lead hook baited and bitten by supplier project manager who escaped having to buy me dinner as well as the drink after work ; I was TIRED!!! - but he knows he owes me two dinners now
This high-intensity Knowledge Transfer fornight has ratcheted up several gears now that squeaky is back (I should take up scrying) with most of my efforts to hand things off to other people so I can get on with my 'real' job circling back to my being the one who knows how to get things organised. Bah. ENTJ personality has its drawbacks
First out at poker last night, on a self-inflicted, had enough, stupid, all-in; but the compliment of the month prize goes to the man with the roving eye whose company I have been keeping for a while or more. He managed to lose his place in a conversation with friends outside the pub when he transferred full attention to a pair of lovely legs exiting from a scabby old Mondeo across the street. It took him several minutes to realise they were mine. You'd think he might recognise them by now.
Having been treated to a late night supper of super-light omelette; I decided I should have omelette for dinner tonight. Mine was rubbish in comparison, my culinary skills are obviously deteriorating, or maybe I just need a bigger frying pan
Bulletins over for the moment : the list of things I have crossed off the list of things to do NOW is quite impressive, unfortunately the clamour of other number one priorities is no shorter
I've started reading "I shall wear midnight'; but too tired even to stay awake long enough to finish it.
Roll on Friday and flying to Cyprus for some serious backing off and basking in hot sun - no whale jokes please!
all typos are my own work
I fired up the machine just now to pay Boris £8 for the pleasure of having a second cup of coffee this morning and actually managed not to get lost finding the A4 to get to work this time. If they do rescind the western patch of congested extortion, I suppose the congestion will spread freely and make that option as long as the other one, but both of them shorter.
Update on the car business; I was right, 30 seconds to declare it an insurance write-off; an "uneconomic repair". I asked sweetly how much was uneconomic and triggered the script about how they can't tell me until they assess the damage. The irony escapes them. The write-off was declared by whoever fetched the car from Bermondsey to take it to a garage for damage assessment. The courtesy car is therefore only allowable for 48 hours; offered a week after the accident; I hadn't realised insurance companies offered stasis as part of their instant care package; obviously I didn't need to do anything or go anywhere until they got round to doing something about the claim
Birthday arranged and paid for; sales lead hook baited and bitten by supplier project manager who escaped having to buy me dinner as well as the drink after work ; I was TIRED!!! - but he knows he owes me two dinners now
This high-intensity Knowledge Transfer fornight has ratcheted up several gears now that squeaky is back (I should take up scrying) with most of my efforts to hand things off to other people so I can get on with my 'real' job circling back to my being the one who knows how to get things organised. Bah. ENTJ personality has its drawbacks
First out at poker last night, on a self-inflicted, had enough, stupid, all-in; but the compliment of the month prize goes to the man with the roving eye whose company I have been keeping for a while or more. He managed to lose his place in a conversation with friends outside the pub when he transferred full attention to a pair of lovely legs exiting from a scabby old Mondeo across the street. It took him several minutes to realise they were mine. You'd think he might recognise them by now.
Having been treated to a late night supper of super-light omelette; I decided I should have omelette for dinner tonight. Mine was rubbish in comparison, my culinary skills are obviously deteriorating, or maybe I just need a bigger frying pan
Bulletins over for the moment : the list of things I have crossed off the list of things to do NOW is quite impressive, unfortunately the clamour of other number one priorities is no shorter
I've started reading "I shall wear midnight'; but too tired even to stay awake long enough to finish it.
Roll on Friday and flying to Cyprus for some serious backing off and basking in hot sun - no whale jokes please!
all typos are my own work
Monday 13 September 2010
ouch day 3
More 'mare today : the insurer blames the broker blames the insurer for cancelling the insurance policy on my car. After applying increasingly sarcastic conversation with both of them in a game of ping-pong. e.g. "and the renewal is due when?", "September THIS year, you mean?", "and the date today is? " they establish that the the terminology is "lapsed on renewal", as advised by the broker on August 25th. Faced with a robust sequence of "when did not wanting to renew my policy become a cancellation?" and "if it was cancelled then, what happened to my letter of confirmation and refund for the rest of the policy term?" and also, "so renewal is due when?" ; they are cornered into ~oh, ermmm, actually it's not due for renewal until September 29th.
I cannot resist checking with them if they are sure they mean THIS year.
The insurer says it will take two days to reinstate the policy; I ask them if they can tell me how long it took them to cancel it (they didn't like that question very much)
Everyone in the office now knows my full name, spelled out in full, my address, date of birth, postcode, car registration, and how viciously polite I can get when I start to lose it
Current status:
A garage in Bermondsey or somewhere equally esoteric has my car; charging an unknown amount per minute to store it.
I probably took the slowest train from Paddington to Slough, and the most expensive taxi from the station to the office, Speaking bus reasonably well in London does not translate to the local idiom of bus prevalent in Sloff.
My working day was trashed by bad temper and frequent calls on both mobiles with a backup work and personal emails. Who would have thought Tyla was a real name?
Finally, there IS a claim number, confirmation that my NCD covers it, and a promise that I will get the courtesy car the policy provides ~ once the policy is reinstated, and the assessor goes to look at the car, and they sort out a repairer, and the repair lot go to collect the car, and, undoubtedly, take 30 seconds to declare it an insurance writeoff.
So, tomorrow, listen out for "seconds away, round 3 - CLANG"
I cannot resist checking with them if they are sure they mean THIS year.
The insurer says it will take two days to reinstate the policy; I ask them if they can tell me how long it took them to cancel it (they didn't like that question very much)
Everyone in the office now knows my full name, spelled out in full, my address, date of birth, postcode, car registration, and how viciously polite I can get when I start to lose it
Current status:
A garage in Bermondsey or somewhere equally esoteric has my car; charging an unknown amount per minute to store it.
I probably took the slowest train from Paddington to Slough, and the most expensive taxi from the station to the office, Speaking bus reasonably well in London does not translate to the local idiom of bus prevalent in Sloff.
My working day was trashed by bad temper and frequent calls on both mobiles with a backup work and personal emails. Who would have thought Tyla was a real name?
Finally, there IS a claim number, confirmation that my NCD covers it, and a promise that I will get the courtesy car the policy provides ~ once the policy is reinstated, and the assessor goes to look at the car, and they sort out a repairer, and the repair lot go to collect the car, and, undoubtedly, take 30 seconds to declare it an insurance writeoff.
So, tomorrow, listen out for "seconds away, round 3 - CLANG"
Sunday 12 September 2010
ouch & cleaned up a bit
19:10
A40 Southbound 30 miles from Aylesbury, short lampposts bit before Western Avenue
visibility good
road conditions dry
traffic heavy, 3 lanes travelling c30mph(?) -relatively slowly anyway
looked away at something ?rearview?radio?
looked back again
Black Saab in front of me had stopped. I braked but went into the back of his car while he sailed into the back of the Range Rover in front of him.
The~ said “thanks a bunch” was edgy almost aggressive; quicker than quick to pick up whatever was on the road behind his car and throw it in the boot; also to clear up glass etc from the front of his car too – before I could take any photograph; I hit video not photo – eejit.
DAMAGE
my car :
front grille pushed back; radiator damaged enough to be leaking, front valance, bonnet & both wings damaged.
SAAB His rear number plate fell off. However, at the front, his headlights were broken and front grille pushed back
RANGE ROVER His rear numberplate fell off and there was a bit of a scuff on the bumper.
Paul info from home: your insurance is due to run out at end of this month (29th) customer ref : r0025825- policy number : a090000001n8nn
I cant find the number your meant to call to notify them. it says in the hand book the number is on the card you should carry with you.
The only number i could find was 08000353939
0800 Saturday: START
Renew Website check has a Claim Hotline number : 0800 035 4346: it just rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang,
9am 0800 035 3939 worked, a girl took details, told me the policy is with Royal Sun Alliance, gave me their number 0870 380 3311, and told me they are not open till Monday.
Asked her to check if I have a courtesy car on my policy, and I do. Great! ~ from the repairers IF the car is repairable; scrap that then, I can't even put the claim in till Monday
Class; an accident out of office hours could have left me stranded at the side of the road for the entire weekend.
So much for their bold website claim
Renew car insurance excels in providing you with motor car insurance quotes that are value for money and provide reassurance that claims will be settled without fuss...because your safety matters.
Adrian Parry, Managing Director
Checked RSA website again
0800 300 252
Indian chap answers and asks for my policy number. A0~. “we don’t deal with those policy numbers; tried the customer reference number begins R “we only deal with policy numbers which begin with zero
He gives me a number 0870 165 0509
RSA website again: contact 01403 232 323
Which directs me to 0845 609 3300, their “emergency hotline”
The ‘emergency hotline gives me another number 0800 300 252 –
CIRCLE COMPLETE
RESTART
Indian woman answers and aks for my name, I give my name and the line goes dead.
I call back and get the Indian chap again; this time I give him the policy number without the ‘a’ prefix. He mishears 6 consecutive zeroes; mistakes six for 5 and gets the last number wrong too. It’s obviously my accent. He can’t find it.
He asks for the registration, I give it. I have to correct him to get it right.
He tells me this is a commercial policy (What?) and gives me another number 0870 165 0509
Mark gets up and tries the 0800 claim line again on his own phone; it just rings.
He calls the website number and gets a person somehow. (I discover later he called the quote line, who were keen to be keen and asked them what would happen if we had to make a claim. "No problem!" they said, "Good" he said " we already have a policy with you and would like to make a claim". Score one for the customer.
1100 -Robert- tells me he will get the claims people to call me
1138 –David- calls me “was the accident your fault”? : Well, probably since I went into the back of someone else. Later in the convo, after I point out that their website claims easy, fast, courtesy car stuff etc, he tells me they have a no-fault team which I can ’try’.
1148 ??? transfers me to –David- on the emergency helpline, who asks for Registration, Name, Address.
How MANY times do I have to give how many people the policy number, name, address, registration etc? None of them seem interested in logging any accident details since Julie at 8am or so who took some details but not of the other cars.
-David- eventually says he can organise for someone to collect and store the car until I can make a claim at 9am on Monday by calling 0845 071 0150. His extension xnnn Reference 0T2. . .
I’m not sure what time the wagon turned up to collect the car; it was unexpected anyway since they did just turn up when I’d expected them to call first. The chap was quite wonderful, he reminded me to take the tax disc, and spent ages dismantling half the car so I could have the CD changer from the boot, the stereo AND the lead from one to other.
Monday morning before I can move this any further; still not happy about it all at all.
I return to the pimlico penthouse with my hands covered in nasty greasy grunge and grime to find Mark has got ready and is dressed in white tie etc : his excuse being that he thought I was already dressed for us to go out. ziff; I wore that stunning outfit to dinner LAST night, I have another one for the Proms tonight.
Still, it was a huge relief to know the car is not going to be sitting in a residents parking bay in the congestion zone, and that whatever the insurance crew decide, it all starts from being able to tell them the car is at ....Cedars 304-312 Lynton Road, SE1 5DD. Insurance assessors can see it there, whichever repairers they demand can fetch and hopefully (fingers legs and eyes crossed) fix it from there, and I can collect it from wherever it might be in London. DV
A40 Southbound 30 miles from Aylesbury, short lampposts bit before Western Avenue
visibility good
road conditions dry
traffic heavy, 3 lanes travelling c30mph(?) -relatively slowly anyway
looked away at something ?rearview?radio?
looked back again
Black Saab in front of me had stopped. I braked but went into the back of his car while he sailed into the back of the Range Rover in front of him.
The~ said “thanks a bunch” was edgy almost aggressive; quicker than quick to pick up whatever was on the road behind his car and throw it in the boot; also to clear up glass etc from the front of his car too – before I could take any photograph; I hit video not photo – eejit.
DAMAGE
my car :
front grille pushed back; radiator damaged enough to be leaking, front valance, bonnet & both wings damaged.
SAAB His rear number plate fell off. However, at the front, his headlights were broken and front grille pushed back
RANGE ROVER His rear numberplate fell off and there was a bit of a scuff on the bumper.
Paul info from home: your insurance is due to run out at end of this month (29th) customer ref : r0025825- policy number : a090000001n8nn
I cant find the number your meant to call to notify them. it says in the hand book the number is on the card you should carry with you.
The only number i could find was 08000353939
0800 Saturday: START
Renew Website check has a Claim Hotline number : 0800 035 4346: it just rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and rang,
9am 0800 035 3939 worked, a girl took details, told me the policy is with Royal Sun Alliance, gave me their number 0870 380 3311, and told me they are not open till Monday.
Asked her to check if I have a courtesy car on my policy, and I do. Great! ~ from the repairers IF the car is repairable; scrap that then, I can't even put the claim in till Monday
Class; an accident out of office hours could have left me stranded at the side of the road for the entire weekend.
So much for their bold website claim
Renew car insurance excels in providing you with motor car insurance quotes that are value for money and provide reassurance that claims will be settled without fuss...because your safety matters.
Adrian Parry, Managing Director
Checked RSA website again
0800 300 252
Indian chap answers and asks for my policy number. A0~. “we don’t deal with those policy numbers; tried the customer reference number begins R “we only deal with policy numbers which begin with zero
He gives me a number 0870 165 0509
RSA website again: contact 01403 232 323
Which directs me to 0845 609 3300, their “emergency hotline”
The ‘emergency hotline gives me another number 0800 300 252 –
CIRCLE COMPLETE
RESTART
Indian woman answers and aks for my name, I give my name and the line goes dead.
I call back and get the Indian chap again; this time I give him the policy number without the ‘a’ prefix. He mishears 6 consecutive zeroes; mistakes six for 5 and gets the last number wrong too. It’s obviously my accent. He can’t find it.
He asks for the registration, I give it. I have to correct him to get it right.
He tells me this is a commercial policy (What?) and gives me another number 0870 165 0509
Mark gets up and tries the 0800 claim line again on his own phone; it just rings.
He calls the website number and gets a person somehow. (I discover later he called the quote line, who were keen to be keen and asked them what would happen if we had to make a claim. "No problem!" they said, "Good" he said " we already have a policy with you and would like to make a claim". Score one for the customer.
1100 -Robert- tells me he will get the claims people to call me
1138 –David- calls me “was the accident your fault”? : Well, probably since I went into the back of someone else. Later in the convo, after I point out that their website claims easy, fast, courtesy car stuff etc, he tells me they have a no-fault team which I can ’try’.
1148 ??? transfers me to –David- on the emergency helpline, who asks for Registration, Name, Address.
How MANY times do I have to give how many people the policy number, name, address, registration etc? None of them seem interested in logging any accident details since Julie at 8am or so who took some details but not of the other cars.
-David- eventually says he can organise for someone to collect and store the car until I can make a claim at 9am on Monday by calling 0845 071 0150. His extension xnnn Reference 0T2. . .
I’m not sure what time the wagon turned up to collect the car; it was unexpected anyway since they did just turn up when I’d expected them to call first. The chap was quite wonderful, he reminded me to take the tax disc, and spent ages dismantling half the car so I could have the CD changer from the boot, the stereo AND the lead from one to other.
Monday morning before I can move this any further; still not happy about it all at all.
I return to the pimlico penthouse with my hands covered in nasty greasy grunge and grime to find Mark has got ready and is dressed in white tie etc : his excuse being that he thought I was already dressed for us to go out. ziff; I wore that stunning outfit to dinner LAST night, I have another one for the Proms tonight.
Still, it was a huge relief to know the car is not going to be sitting in a residents parking bay in the congestion zone, and that whatever the insurance crew decide, it all starts from being able to tell them the car is at ....Cedars 304-312 Lynton Road, SE1 5DD. Insurance assessors can see it there, whichever repairers they demand can fetch and hopefully (fingers legs and eyes crossed) fix it from there, and I can collect it from wherever it might be in London. DV
Saturday 4 September 2010
A real man....
A real man is a woman's best friend.
He will never stand her up and never let her down.
He will reassure her when she feels insecure, and comfort her after a bad day.
He will inspire her to do things she never thought she could; to live without fear and forget regret.
He will enable her to express her deepest emotions and give in to her most intimate desires.
He will make sure she always feels as though she's the most beautiful woman in the room and will enable her to be the most confident, sexy, seductive, and invincible.
No wait... sorry... I'm thinking of wine.
Never mind.
copywrong my m8 Shani -TQ
~ and according to Gareth Hunt on a radio show several years ago
- A real man wears waterproof mascara so it doesn't run when he cries -
and last Saturday ....
A real man accepts it when you say you want to eat in the kitchen (at the table). A few minutes later he declares the kitchen out of bounds until further notice; makes sure your drink is topped up, checks the level of lighting is perfect for reading your book, and disappears for a time.
A short whle later, he announces that dinner is imminent and leads you into the kitchen where the only lighting is provided by pure white candles in silver candlesticks on a perfectly set table with a tablecloth you didn't know he possessed. Flamboyant flambé follows before serving of the perfectly cooked steak, original recipe mushrooms in cream sauce and caramelised tomatoes. *deliciously happy sigh*
Conversation, compliments, and cabaret provided by the rubenesque woman across the road skipping playfully downstairs for something, having neglected to cover her curves on her way past the long staircase window. He missed it; but sat like a cat at a mousehole till she reappeared on the way back up.
He's working on the first definition.
He will never stand her up and never let her down.
He will reassure her when she feels insecure, and comfort her after a bad day.
He will inspire her to do things she never thought she could; to live without fear and forget regret.
He will enable her to express her deepest emotions and give in to her most intimate desires.
He will make sure she always feels as though she's the most beautiful woman in the room and will enable her to be the most confident, sexy, seductive, and invincible.
No wait... sorry... I'm thinking of wine.
Never mind.
copywrong my m8 Shani -TQ
~ and according to Gareth Hunt on a radio show several years ago
- A real man wears waterproof mascara so it doesn't run when he cries -
and last Saturday ....
A real man accepts it when you say you want to eat in the kitchen (at the table). A few minutes later he declares the kitchen out of bounds until further notice; makes sure your drink is topped up, checks the level of lighting is perfect for reading your book, and disappears for a time.
A short whle later, he announces that dinner is imminent and leads you into the kitchen where the only lighting is provided by pure white candles in silver candlesticks on a perfectly set table with a tablecloth you didn't know he possessed. Flamboyant flambé follows before serving of the perfectly cooked steak, original recipe mushrooms in cream sauce and caramelised tomatoes. *deliciously happy sigh*
Conversation, compliments, and cabaret provided by the rubenesque woman across the road skipping playfully downstairs for something, having neglected to cover her curves on her way past the long staircase window. He missed it; but sat like a cat at a mousehole till she reappeared on the way back up.
He's working on the first definition.
Wednesday 1 September 2010
Spider Solitaire
bloody addictive game - I've won the 2nd of the intermediate level _ at the 79th attempt - 1139 points 160+ moves
and now I'm getting competitive; what's your best?
I decided to skip the office today; the electronic communicator shows if I'm working or not so there's no real issue with that. Win situation managing to run a tough supplier interview with the new girl apprentice in attendance and withOUT the squeaky blonde screwing it up for me. Payoff in calling for reinforcements from the short boss when I hadn't an xing clue what was causing the nasty user problem, and discovered the user hadn't watched the the training vid or checked what content they need to put in the file *smothered laughter*
Paul has gone incommunicado and not responded to my phone calls, think it's because he knows I want the password to move the service contract onto my new 4G iphone toy; I'm also contemplating getting a kindle now they're so cheap. £100 for something that can hold 3000+ books and has a battery life of a month has to be tempting
and ~ surreal rides again; motored to Tesco to get cigs; spend a ton as usual (well, they have Nicholas Feuillate at a tenner off, and 18yo Highland Park at half-price) and came out to find a really lovely RED del sol parked next to mine. I took photographs! Mine's a japanese import and a year older; theirs doesn't have an horrendous ding in the wing and is cleaner but otherwise identical. I did buy some food as well
I'll post the pic eventually
not calling Mark cos the spiders stole my evening and he'll be mardy if he's having an early night : Dinner with Trish tomorrow evening and working from home again Friday. This working from home malarkey is all wrong, it's been screaming hot all day and my tan has another 24 hours of fade because I was indoors, working, all bloody day - PAH!
and now I'm getting competitive; what's your best?
I decided to skip the office today; the electronic communicator shows if I'm working or not so there's no real issue with that. Win situation managing to run a tough supplier interview with the new girl apprentice in attendance and withOUT the squeaky blonde screwing it up for me. Payoff in calling for reinforcements from the short boss when I hadn't an xing clue what was causing the nasty user problem, and discovered the user hadn't watched the the training vid or checked what content they need to put in the file *smothered laughter*
Paul has gone incommunicado and not responded to my phone calls, think it's because he knows I want the password to move the service contract onto my new 4G iphone toy; I'm also contemplating getting a kindle now they're so cheap. £100 for something that can hold 3000+ books and has a battery life of a month has to be tempting
and ~ surreal rides again; motored to Tesco to get cigs; spend a ton as usual (well, they have Nicholas Feuillate at a tenner off, and 18yo Highland Park at half-price) and came out to find a really lovely RED del sol parked next to mine. I took photographs! Mine's a japanese import and a year older; theirs doesn't have an horrendous ding in the wing and is cleaner but otherwise identical. I did buy some food as well
I'll post the pic eventually
not calling Mark cos the spiders stole my evening and he'll be mardy if he's having an early night : Dinner with Trish tomorrow evening and working from home again Friday. This working from home malarkey is all wrong, it's been screaming hot all day and my tan has another 24 hours of fade because I was indoors, working, all bloody day - PAH!
Tuesday 24 August 2010
Frankfurt
Almost quarter to 7; all my plans for an easy trip to Verden in working time instead of my own, and being in good time for the planned dinner with the dark boss’ boss to discuss plans and projects, have disintegrated.
My son fetched up with the shorts in good time, we set off in good time; max hour to the airport and allowing 45 mins to get there seemed good. Stopping for petrol, no problem. Convincing him that the A41 is not the best route if you want to be west of London has got much easier. M40, lots of weather, too hot, pouring rain, sudden gusts of wind , all good. Next turnoff, M25.
Sign: M25 Southbound exit closed due to accident.
#Ah pfuiii!!!
Next sign: M25 Southbound exit closed due to accident on slip road.
In-car debate about which might be the best alternative route, and we ended up travelling north on the M1, having checked that the accident WAS on the slip road (lorry at a jaunty angle at the side of the road)
Fretting... all that organisation and feeling serene about the available time, packed, unconcerned about the journey, quite looking forward the arriving at a civilised hour for a civilised dinner – trashed!
So. Up the M1 and down again at the next junction, plain sailing really. The shorts had a proper awed moment when we went past the plane just before the tunnel to Terminal 1, I had my moment of stress trying to read the signs on the road, having assumed my son was as used to driving to T1 as I have become. Out of the car and into the airport before half one; cool!
Departure Board. Flight at 14:15 delayed. Leaving at 14.29. Approximately, one assumes. Unbelievable! Even if it hadn’t been a delayed departure, I was on time, with time to get myself a sandwich for lunch, and settled to wait.
Just after I polished off the sandwich and realised the book Mark loaned and recommended wasn’t at all what I’d expected; he said it was a 'gay' book and I wasn't expecting fascinating hooks to classic literature, the gate finally showed up for the delayed flight. Only 15 minutes, delay, no issue, they can make that up on the way, and there is almost an hour for the transfer time at Frankfurt.
Gate 5 was there, people in uniforms with walkie-talkies were there, lots of prospective passengers were there. The plane wasn’t. After a long while, people started coming out of the gate. The uniforms stopped avoiding eye contact with the passengers and moved behind the desks putting their professional smiles into place, we got on the plane.
An hour later, we were there. On the plane. On the ground. In London.
Eventually, the plane took off and we were flying at the speed of sound (80% of it, according to the pilot, who said he had his pedal to the metal and was doing 550mph – what IS the speed of sound?) The plane hit a few potholes in the sky on the way, but it was water that splashed all over my shirt and the wine was saved for savouring between potholes. It was quite fun really, holding the full glass of wine over the aisle and practising zen go-with-the-flow instead of throwing it all over the floor and the other passengers.
We landed at 17:40. The exact minute the connecting flight took off.
20:13 ~ I am off for another smoke now: the Camel sheds are civilised, and have decent extraction fans: the cherman beer is good and is coiling nicely round my brainstem, I sent a text to the boss to tell his boss he’s being stood up
Flight leaves at 9: I don’t want to miss it ...
My son fetched up with the shorts in good time, we set off in good time; max hour to the airport and allowing 45 mins to get there seemed good. Stopping for petrol, no problem. Convincing him that the A41 is not the best route if you want to be west of London has got much easier. M40, lots of weather, too hot, pouring rain, sudden gusts of wind , all good. Next turnoff, M25.
Sign: M25 Southbound exit closed due to accident.
#Ah pfuiii!!!
Next sign: M25 Southbound exit closed due to accident on slip road.
In-car debate about which might be the best alternative route, and we ended up travelling north on the M1, having checked that the accident WAS on the slip road (lorry at a jaunty angle at the side of the road)
Fretting... all that organisation and feeling serene about the available time, packed, unconcerned about the journey, quite looking forward the arriving at a civilised hour for a civilised dinner – trashed!
So. Up the M1 and down again at the next junction, plain sailing really. The shorts had a proper awed moment when we went past the plane just before the tunnel to Terminal 1, I had my moment of stress trying to read the signs on the road, having assumed my son was as used to driving to T1 as I have become. Out of the car and into the airport before half one; cool!
Departure Board. Flight at 14:15 delayed. Leaving at 14.29. Approximately, one assumes. Unbelievable! Even if it hadn’t been a delayed departure, I was on time, with time to get myself a sandwich for lunch, and settled to wait.
Just after I polished off the sandwich and realised the book Mark loaned and recommended wasn’t at all what I’d expected; he said it was a 'gay' book and I wasn't expecting fascinating hooks to classic literature, the gate finally showed up for the delayed flight. Only 15 minutes, delay, no issue, they can make that up on the way, and there is almost an hour for the transfer time at Frankfurt.
Gate 5 was there, people in uniforms with walkie-talkies were there, lots of prospective passengers were there. The plane wasn’t. After a long while, people started coming out of the gate. The uniforms stopped avoiding eye contact with the passengers and moved behind the desks putting their professional smiles into place, we got on the plane.
An hour later, we were there. On the plane. On the ground. In London.
Eventually, the plane took off and we were flying at the speed of sound (80% of it, according to the pilot, who said he had his pedal to the metal and was doing 550mph – what IS the speed of sound?) The plane hit a few potholes in the sky on the way, but it was water that splashed all over my shirt and the wine was saved for savouring between potholes. It was quite fun really, holding the full glass of wine over the aisle and practising zen go-with-the-flow instead of throwing it all over the floor and the other passengers.
We landed at 17:40. The exact minute the connecting flight took off.
20:13 ~ I am off for another smoke now: the Camel sheds are civilised, and have decent extraction fans: the cherman beer is good and is coiling nicely round my brainstem, I sent a text to the boss to tell his boss he’s being stood up
Flight leaves at 9: I don’t want to miss it ...
Saturday 7 August 2010
bad beat
can't be bother to try posting the pic - one of the last 3 players in a tournament of 80; K 7 in hand; 3 8 9 on the flop; King on the turn, 7 on the river .....
looking good ....
and the unfolded other had pocket 8s.
rats.
The blond boss gave me a brand new Party Poker table top this week; I'm thinking of taking it up to Edinburgh with me next weekend - I need the practice
looking good ....
and the unfolded other had pocket 8s.
rats.
The blond boss gave me a brand new Party Poker table top this week; I'm thinking of taking it up to Edinburgh with me next weekend - I need the practice
Sunday 20 June 2010
more ketchup
you want fries with that?
I've been caving this weekend: bailed on invites for Friday night and last night, but the week hasn't been a complete social disaster, I did manage to see the short minxcat on her birthday on Tuesday, and to have dinner with Trish after work on Thursday at The Crown but that only worked because it's close to the office and she was waiting for me when I gave up waiting for her call. I would have left earlier if she'd been calling my current mobile number and not the old one (which is my alarm clock and event contact number). Not my fault she decided to stop work at 4:30 and I was expecting her to call around 6:30!
I'd been streetwalking in the early afternoon ~ OK, OK, I was 'avvin a fag and prefer to take a walk down the road rather than suffer the smoking shed ~ and Trish happened to be driving up the same road on her way to work at the same time.
Still, the food was fabulous and I amazed myself by having only one glass of wine. No magic tricks from the proprietor there, time; I think Paulo's where we were last week is the only place to do that.
The new school is going well, but the reshaping of my life-pattern to allow waking at 6 and getting to work for 8:45 (TGF my son acting as alarm/check call) has not been matched by a reciprocal leaving after the mandatory 8 hours including lunch-break. The theory is that I will get used to it, it will become automatic, and my energy levels will get back to normal. Can't wait.
It's quite surprising how differently I react when colleagues assume I'm great, there's a bit of a positive feedback loop going on, and I've already been made project monitor, not bad for only having been there a week. Also, getting home for my tea every night has been lovely, even if I am dead on my feet by 10pm and totally lights out at 11. Good news is that my man lives closer to the office than I do so I'll be checking out the M4 tomorrow morning and am optimistic that I will be able to harass him more often ;)
Yesterday was domestical and family social; the new grass has had its first haircut and looks great at ground level but has many bald patches seen from upstairs. Lots of washing was done, and I decided to walk to the nursery while the red devil was being examined by the garage and was able to spend some time with D and the shorts. I now have a vicarious kitten, it seems to be coping with living with a 5yo and 3yo but there have already been a couple of "back off" scratches and a level of mutual respect is being established.
Unreasonably chuffed that the red devil got it's MOT with minimal fuss; the horrible squealing noise appears to have been a part-seized handbrake (now adjusted at a reasonable cost) and new tyres were something I knew I'd have to do soon. Total cost, £275. Result!
When I collected it, the proprietor asked me if the targa top still works (of course it does!) and told me one of his mechanics was desperate to see it in action, "if I wouldn't mind". Mind? I love showing off the Thunderbirds are slow action. All clicks and whirs with occasional beeps. The lads were seriously impressed. I should point out that my exhaust sounds MUCH better than the one in the link, lovely to inherit a complete stainless steel system. I chose not to demonstrate the reverse manoeuvre and drove home topless.
Bit of a kip did for any plans to go out but I read "Anansi Boys" and cerfed about on youtube to enjoy the music references. Wikipedia is a spoiler, I'd recommend just reading the book.
Feast or famine with me; I'll try to update a little less extensively but more often
x
I've been caving this weekend: bailed on invites for Friday night and last night, but the week hasn't been a complete social disaster, I did manage to see the short minxcat on her birthday on Tuesday, and to have dinner with Trish after work on Thursday at The Crown but that only worked because it's close to the office and she was waiting for me when I gave up waiting for her call. I would have left earlier if she'd been calling my current mobile number and not the old one (which is my alarm clock and event contact number). Not my fault she decided to stop work at 4:30 and I was expecting her to call around 6:30!
I'd been streetwalking in the early afternoon ~ OK, OK, I was 'avvin a fag and prefer to take a walk down the road rather than suffer the smoking shed ~ and Trish happened to be driving up the same road on her way to work at the same time.
Still, the food was fabulous and I amazed myself by having only one glass of wine. No magic tricks from the proprietor there, time; I think Paulo's where we were last week is the only place to do that.
The new school is going well, but the reshaping of my life-pattern to allow waking at 6 and getting to work for 8:45 (TGF my son acting as alarm/check call) has not been matched by a reciprocal leaving after the mandatory 8 hours including lunch-break. The theory is that I will get used to it, it will become automatic, and my energy levels will get back to normal. Can't wait.
It's quite surprising how differently I react when colleagues assume I'm great, there's a bit of a positive feedback loop going on, and I've already been made project monitor, not bad for only having been there a week. Also, getting home for my tea every night has been lovely, even if I am dead on my feet by 10pm and totally lights out at 11. Good news is that my man lives closer to the office than I do so I'll be checking out the M4 tomorrow morning and am optimistic that I will be able to harass him more often ;)
Yesterday was domestical and family social; the new grass has had its first haircut and looks great at ground level but has many bald patches seen from upstairs. Lots of washing was done, and I decided to walk to the nursery while the red devil was being examined by the garage and was able to spend some time with D and the shorts. I now have a vicarious kitten, it seems to be coping with living with a 5yo and 3yo but there have already been a couple of "back off" scratches and a level of mutual respect is being established.
Unreasonably chuffed that the red devil got it's MOT with minimal fuss; the horrible squealing noise appears to have been a part-seized handbrake (now adjusted at a reasonable cost) and new tyres were something I knew I'd have to do soon. Total cost, £275. Result!
When I collected it, the proprietor asked me if the targa top still works (of course it does!) and told me one of his mechanics was desperate to see it in action, "if I wouldn't mind". Mind? I love showing off the Thunderbirds are slow action. All clicks and whirs with occasional beeps. The lads were seriously impressed. I should point out that my exhaust sounds MUCH better than the one in the link, lovely to inherit a complete stainless steel system. I chose not to demonstrate the reverse manoeuvre and drove home topless.
Bit of a kip did for any plans to go out but I read "Anansi Boys" and cerfed about on youtube to enjoy the music references. Wikipedia is a spoiler, I'd recommend just reading the book.
It was rumored that there was going to be a movie adaptation of Anansi Boys (from the radio play), but the "moviemakers wanted to change the lead black characters to white or drop the magical elements altogether". Gaiman claimed not to need the money, "Not needing the money puts me in a magical place because I can say no. I like the idea of having good movies made or having no movies made."
On 9th April 2010, Gaiman updated his Twitter feed with, "Anansi Boys script starting to look a bit more like a script."
Feast or famine with me; I'll try to update a little less extensively but more often
x
Saturday 12 June 2010
said zebedee
Check out this link for what other people said
Tired like a fish and still too much to do for tomorrow; my evening was lost to a lot of traffic, getting lost, and lucking into parking practically outside the pub where my sister was waiting for me with various people for a wedding in High Wycombe tomorrow. Her weekend has been planned to the n'th degree and it seems very unfair that we only managed three precious hours in each other's company.
As my heroine Scarlett O'Hara said ~ I'll think about it tomorrow!
Tired like a fish and still too much to do for tomorrow; my evening was lost to a lot of traffic, getting lost, and lucking into parking practically outside the pub where my sister was waiting for me with various people for a wedding in High Wycombe tomorrow. Her weekend has been planned to the n'th degree and it seems very unfair that we only managed three precious hours in each other's company.
As my heroine Scarlett O'Hara said ~ I'll think about it tomorrow!
Thursday 10 June 2010
ketchup
First day at the new school tomorrow, off to Mars at last. At least I have a short week the first week! I took a week's holiday after the bank holiday weekend to keep the resource managers off my back and lucked into what may end up being summer 2010.
The island was great; the shorts were happy, it rained a lot on the Saturday but turned out fabulous on Sunday/Monday so there are lots of pics from the beach and the woods to jog the memory : they're here
This last weekend was pretty good too, lovely sunshine right up until ten minutes into my trip to London with the top down on the car. So much for the anticipated airbath. I had to stop after ten minutes to put the top back up because it started raining! Obviously triggered by my son bringing my hose back from the nursery and plumbing in the tap thingie so I could water the garden. Haven't needed to use the hose since.
Dinner was severely delayed by a couple of side-trips to have a drink with a couple of Mark's friends, and getting caught up in my distant local's pub quiz. I got one of the world cup round questions! Well, what other team except Scotland would be the 'never qualified at group level'?
Out and about at the LAM on Sunday, catching up with people but missed a birthday party at Hampstead; wasn't first out at poker, got up in time to slide under the cameras before 7am on Monday so I didn't have to give Boris any money and it all went rather well. Except for getting up at 6 after going to bed at 2am and feeling wiped out all day.
LLM last night saw a fine collection of fine women getting on rather well drinking fine wine and getting mashed (well, I did at any rate)
Someone sent me this today, I like it :)
The island was great; the shorts were happy, it rained a lot on the Saturday but turned out fabulous on Sunday/Monday so there are lots of pics from the beach and the woods to jog the memory : they're here
This last weekend was pretty good too, lovely sunshine right up until ten minutes into my trip to London with the top down on the car. So much for the anticipated airbath. I had to stop after ten minutes to put the top back up because it started raining! Obviously triggered by my son bringing my hose back from the nursery and plumbing in the tap thingie so I could water the garden. Haven't needed to use the hose since.
Dinner was severely delayed by a couple of side-trips to have a drink with a couple of Mark's friends, and getting caught up in my distant local's pub quiz. I got one of the world cup round questions! Well, what other team except Scotland would be the 'never qualified at group level'?
Out and about at the LAM on Sunday, catching up with people but missed a birthday party at Hampstead; wasn't first out at poker, got up in time to slide under the cameras before 7am on Monday so I didn't have to give Boris any money and it all went rather well. Except for getting up at 6 after going to bed at 2am and feeling wiped out all day.
LLM last night saw a fine collection of fine women getting on rather well drinking fine wine and getting mashed (well, I did at any rate)
Someone sent me this today, I like it :)
The Urine test
(This was written by a rig worker in the North Sea - What he says makes a lot of sense!) I work, they pay me. I pay my taxes and the government distributes my taxes as it sees fit. In order to earn that pay cheque, I work on a rig for a drilling contractor. I am required to pass a random urine test for drugs and alcohol, with which I have no problem. What I do have a problem with is the distribution of my taxes to people who don't have to pass a urine test.
Shouldn't one have to pass a urine test to get a benefits cheque because I have to pass one to earn it for them? Please understand that I have no problem with helping people get back on their feet. I do on the other hand have a problem with helping someone sit on their arse drinking beer and smoking dope. Could you imagine how much money the government would save if people had to pass a urine test to get a benefit cheque?
Saturday 22 May 2010
this evening I've been mostly ~
convergence of coincidence - for Ah So, and Later
long way from bored
picked up an email from the great god of CPR who has a utilisation code to keep me in thrall to Mars and performed a rewarding telephone interrogation of Sid about SAP
note: no translations offered
also managed to narrowly avoid electrocution by molesting a mouse whose tail snagged my lovely cold and sweet scotch & coke to create a nicely liquid arc which fortunately fell short of the PC
long way from bored
picked up an email from the great god of CPR who has a utilisation code to keep me in thrall to Mars and performed a rewarding telephone interrogation of Sid about SAP
note: no translations offered
also managed to narrowly avoid electrocution by molesting a mouse whose tail snagged my lovely cold and sweet scotch & coke to create a nicely liquid arc which fortunately fell short of the PC
Saturday 15 May 2010
privacy
Linkedin
Your profile has been viewed by 10 people in the last 30 days, including:
Recruiting Manager at Logica ~ wonder what they were searching?
Finance Director at Covance ~ turned out to be Anne
SAP Consultant at GlaxoSmithKline ~ no guesses : must be Rod
Someone in the Consulting function in the Telecommunications industry from London, United Kingdom ~ hmmmmm
Someone at TalkTalk ~ not exactly informative this one
A poem from my sister: ~ it was just the one day ~
Freecycle/Freegle: I so hate the politics of groups; people - I hate people's inability to think for themselves and to see the glaringly obvious threats and blackmail. The US freecycle founder got addicted to power, the UK mods rebelled against the autocratic methods and declared UDI with Freegle. The same few people direct and manage the tiller. The group I have been running for the last few years under the freecycle banner needs to be moved, by democratic vote of the other mods. The threat, expressed by freegle, and casting the deciding vote, is that freecycle will convince yahoo to delete the group. Freecyle have made no threat, although I believe they would do that.
I'm left wondering why it matters so much to me. I like the idea of being associated with something I see as socially activist; I like the feeling of enabling something good and useful to individuals, local community and the overall ecology of the planet and the population. I detest the unthiniking groupthink
Your profile has been viewed by 10 people in the last 30 days, including:
Recruiting Manager at Logica ~ wonder what they were searching?
Finance Director at Covance ~ turned out to be Anne
SAP Consultant at GlaxoSmithKline ~ no guesses : must be Rod
Someone in the Consulting function in the Telecommunications industry from London, United Kingdom ~ hmmmmm
Someone at TalkTalk ~ not exactly informative this one
A poem from my sister: ~ it was just the one day ~
Freecycle/Freegle: I so hate the politics of groups; people - I hate people's inability to think for themselves and to see the glaringly obvious threats and blackmail. The US freecycle founder got addicted to power, the UK mods rebelled against the autocratic methods and declared UDI with Freegle. The same few people direct and manage the tiller. The group I have been running for the last few years under the freecycle banner needs to be moved, by democratic vote of the other mods. The threat, expressed by freegle, and casting the deciding vote, is that freecycle will convince yahoo to delete the group. Freecyle have made no threat, although I believe they would do that.
I'm left wondering why it matters so much to me. I like the idea of being associated with something I see as socially activist; I like the feeling of enabling something good and useful to individuals, local community and the overall ecology of the planet and the population. I detest the unthiniking groupthink
Thursday 6 May 2010
Life on Mars?
Snuffly the red-nose drained 'ere was in sunny Slough for a declared tough interview this afternoon. My company want to charge me out at a dayrate 50% higher than the contract market candidates, and 400% of what I get paid. It seemed to go well (kiss of death) and I'll find out tomorrow if I managed to sell myself and the company bodyshop prices.
It was kinda fun; it's not often I get to play challenge and response with other geek-types and I think I might enjoy working there. It's only an hour drive, half of it through nice villages and country lanes with pleasant-looking pubs along the way.
Even if they don't want me, I've had the experience of a 'proper interview', and the satisfaction of knowing my CV is at least good enough to get me to interview in competition with cheaper contract alternatives.
If they do want me, I'll have the opportunity to work in a much wider field than I have been and to sharpen my edge for non-test areas, which will also bring in some nice fat bacon directly attributable to me. Got to be worth a decent payrise. Sod promotion, gimme the cash. If they won't give me the cash, I will be better placed to move to another company.
All positive stuff! It's been pretty tough these last couple of weeks, juggling four different things at the same time; together needing more time than there is in the clock day, let alone the working day. It'll be a relief to go back to a single project but I must, I must stop working lunatic hours.
I managed to work only half my one-day holiday last Friday before collecting Mark from the station and setting off for the annual Givaudan reunion at Cumberwell Cottages again. Only 6 originals this time, others had to bail due to imminent birth (Géraldine), Irish wedding (Mike), being abroad (Sarah in Spain, Steve in Florida) It has to be said that most of the weekend passed in a pleasantly alcoholic haze, even if we didn't (quite) manage to finish off the litre of Glenfiddich even with Neil & John helping a bit. It was lovely to see them all again, and very strange to remember it's 13 years since we worked together.
Romantic touch with Mark bringing glorious red tulips back from his exploratory stroll to investigate the landfill site (what?!) Our Saturday expedition to Bath was abandoned when we saw the tailback caused by a gas emergency on the main route so we drove for miles around the countryside instead, stopping off at Wotton Under Edge ( I don't think that's a dropped aitch) for a wander, a proper English teashop coffee and cake and checking out the charity shops. New summer hat for me, and a copy of Brewer's Rogues, Villains and Eccentrics for Mark. Do check the link; the sample made me laugh out loud. Knocking down a bunny outside the the village of Knockdown is funny now, but I didn't think so at the time. Meant I refused to drive back to check if the ?buzzard?kite? Mark saw parked in a field with its prey was still there. Inadvertent or not, I'd seen enough carnage for one day. Next year is already on the cards for June, and Mark's card has been marked by the girl gang who most definitely want to see him around again. I think it's the combination of his dashing good looks and (often true)tall tales.
Poker on Monday night: I'm not doing well this league, pretty much bottom of it, but it's still fun. Some very sad news that one of the women who played poker with the gang died last week. Spare a thought for troubled souls, she was a laugh and provided us with much amusement pursuing Mark, to his alarm.
Grass seed has been scattered about the much dug/raked back garden, it's a bit confusing that the seeds are coloured green making it hard to see if any of them are sprouting! Paul has done sterling heavy digging of the front garden so I have some future therapeutic exercise, preferably wearing not a lot and getting toned and tanned at the same time.
Next stop a weekend at home, BBQ invites for the next weekends, then Shanklin with the shorts for the next holiday weekend. Neither of them were born the last time I was there, with their parents, in 2004 to see the Manics, The Who, Bowie, Snow Patrol, Suzanne Vega et alia at the Festival The line-up doesn't look nearly as good this year, even with Paul McCartney headlining, I wish I had seen Faithless though. SO wonderful that "our family have a house on the island" (it was left to my Dad's cousin, but she is generous enough to let any of us use it). Looking forward to seeing them again in advance of the August family gathering in Edinburgh for my father's birthday.
enough ramble; I'm still full of the cold, but am happy to have spoken to my mother on the phone today to catch up on the latest hospital adventure jump-starting her eccentric ticker. It seems to have been regulated. *relief*
It was kinda fun; it's not often I get to play challenge and response with other geek-types and I think I might enjoy working there. It's only an hour drive, half of it through nice villages and country lanes with pleasant-looking pubs along the way.
Even if they don't want me, I've had the experience of a 'proper interview', and the satisfaction of knowing my CV is at least good enough to get me to interview in competition with cheaper contract alternatives.
If they do want me, I'll have the opportunity to work in a much wider field than I have been and to sharpen my edge for non-test areas, which will also bring in some nice fat bacon directly attributable to me. Got to be worth a decent payrise. Sod promotion, gimme the cash. If they won't give me the cash, I will be better placed to move to another company.
All positive stuff! It's been pretty tough these last couple of weeks, juggling four different things at the same time; together needing more time than there is in the clock day, let alone the working day. It'll be a relief to go back to a single project but I must, I must stop working lunatic hours.
I managed to work only half my one-day holiday last Friday before collecting Mark from the station and setting off for the annual Givaudan reunion at Cumberwell Cottages again. Only 6 originals this time, others had to bail due to imminent birth (Géraldine), Irish wedding (Mike), being abroad (Sarah in Spain, Steve in Florida) It has to be said that most of the weekend passed in a pleasantly alcoholic haze, even if we didn't (quite) manage to finish off the litre of Glenfiddich even with Neil & John helping a bit. It was lovely to see them all again, and very strange to remember it's 13 years since we worked together.
Romantic touch with Mark bringing glorious red tulips back from his exploratory stroll to investigate the landfill site (what?!) Our Saturday expedition to Bath was abandoned when we saw the tailback caused by a gas emergency on the main route so we drove for miles around the countryside instead, stopping off at Wotton Under Edge ( I don't think that's a dropped aitch) for a wander, a proper English teashop coffee and cake and checking out the charity shops. New summer hat for me, and a copy of Brewer's Rogues, Villains and Eccentrics for Mark. Do check the link; the sample made me laugh out loud. Knocking down a bunny outside the the village of Knockdown is funny now, but I didn't think so at the time. Meant I refused to drive back to check if the ?buzzard?kite? Mark saw parked in a field with its prey was still there. Inadvertent or not, I'd seen enough carnage for one day. Next year is already on the cards for June, and Mark's card has been marked by the girl gang who most definitely want to see him around again. I think it's the combination of his dashing good looks and (often true)tall tales.
Poker on Monday night: I'm not doing well this league, pretty much bottom of it, but it's still fun. Some very sad news that one of the women who played poker with the gang died last week. Spare a thought for troubled souls, she was a laugh and provided us with much amusement pursuing Mark, to his alarm.
Grass seed has been scattered about the much dug/raked back garden, it's a bit confusing that the seeds are coloured green making it hard to see if any of them are sprouting! Paul has done sterling heavy digging of the front garden so I have some future therapeutic exercise, preferably wearing not a lot and getting toned and tanned at the same time.
Next stop a weekend at home, BBQ invites for the next weekends, then Shanklin with the shorts for the next holiday weekend. Neither of them were born the last time I was there, with their parents, in 2004 to see the Manics, The Who, Bowie, Snow Patrol, Suzanne Vega et alia at the Festival The line-up doesn't look nearly as good this year, even with Paul McCartney headlining, I wish I had seen Faithless though. SO wonderful that "our family have a house on the island" (it was left to my Dad's cousin, but she is generous enough to let any of us use it). Looking forward to seeing them again in advance of the August family gathering in Edinburgh for my father's birthday.
enough ramble; I'm still full of the cold, but am happy to have spoken to my mother on the phone today to catch up on the latest hospital adventure jump-starting her eccentric ticker. It seems to have been regulated. *relief*
Saturday 24 April 2010
amazoning
For anyone who doesn't know, I work as a 'senior test manager', and have the requisite fold in my brain that means I get passionate about testing and find it infinitely interesting. Twelve years of specialising in testing doesn't mean I passed the ISTQB exam last year though. Truly humiliating since I missed it by only 4 marks on a mentalist multiple choice paper; I'd have been happier if I'd missed it by a mile. Anyway, I went looking on Amazon for the qualification bible and decided it was time I bought some of the books I actively want to flesh out the eclectic collection of books Sid lends me and the inherited collections of his and P's clearouts, and random purchases in charity shops.
Good news is that my company has allowance for paid study leave so I intend to find the next available exam date and take study time immediately before it so I actually achieve the qualification. (Then move on to chasing Prince2 and ITIL) Bored with the geekness of all this yet?
One of my qualifications for the internal thing I'm doing is ownership of TMap Next Back in 2007, when we were hanging out with Sogeti, I asked for and was given a complimentary copy of this (they liked me ~ enough to tell me I have a job with them if I want it) and I'm stunned to discover it costs £83.95!!!!!!! Just as well it was a gift, I doubt I'd ever have paid that much 'on spec'.
I've also got TPI, another Sogeti bible, which sells at £42. I don't remember paying that much so I guess it was another gift. Just as well.
So, in the zone, I qualified for free delivery, and all the books I ordered are brand new and overall cheaper than the cheaper options. Anyone who wants to go looking for a book to buy me can check out the ones I want on the intermittently updated amazon wishlist; for what I am reading or have read, check Shelfari. Which reminds me how irritated Sid was that I ignored the link when he sent it to me then, months later, recommended it to him after signing up on Paula's recommendation. (giggling a bit)
It's Saturday, it's sunny, it's afternoon already, I have dozens of things to do and am happy to reoport that my miserable mood on waking has dissipated.
Suppose I should go chase a car now.
Good news is that my company has allowance for paid study leave so I intend to find the next available exam date and take study time immediately before it so I actually achieve the qualification. (Then move on to chasing Prince2 and ITIL) Bored with the geekness of all this yet?
One of my qualifications for the internal thing I'm doing is ownership of TMap Next Back in 2007, when we were hanging out with Sogeti, I asked for and was given a complimentary copy of this (they liked me ~ enough to tell me I have a job with them if I want it) and I'm stunned to discover it costs £83.95!!!!!!! Just as well it was a gift, I doubt I'd ever have paid that much 'on spec'.
I've also got TPI, another Sogeti bible, which sells at £42. I don't remember paying that much so I guess it was another gift. Just as well.
So, in the zone, I qualified for free delivery, and all the books I ordered are brand new and overall cheaper than the cheaper options. Anyone who wants to go looking for a book to buy me can check out the ones I want on the intermittently updated amazon wishlist; for what I am reading or have read, check Shelfari. Which reminds me how irritated Sid was that I ignored the link when he sent it to me then, months later, recommended it to him after signing up on Paula's recommendation. (giggling a bit)
It's Saturday, it's sunny, it's afternoon already, I have dozens of things to do and am happy to reoport that my miserable mood on waking has dissipated.
Suppose I should go chase a car now.
Tuesday 20 April 2010
on the bench
It's strange how being at home 'on the bench' i.e not having a paid project to work on, feels entirely different to being at home on holiday as I was last week.
I had an entire hour before I got a call asking me to work on an internal project: to create a senior mgmt presentation on how 2 different project methodologies fit with 3 different test methodologies and how we can convince clients we do all of them spectacularly well using 'a few slides'.
In the best tradition, someone else 'owns' this so it won't be my name on it, but at least it's interesting.
Brighton was wonderful on Saturday, fish and chips in the open air, and a stroll along the front after getting knocked out of the regional final. I was 46th of 69 qualifiers, out just before Mark but not first out from our team. Result I guess but I think I could/should have played better. Drinking pints of lager across the afternoon anaethetised me for the livescreenS football in the pub but I was glad to be on the train back, even if the american lass in the carriage was unbelievably LOUD, overconfident and irritating
We drifted over to the pub around Sunday teatime, after Formula 1, and discovered the new Sunday poker league was starting. Dinner was exceptionally late as Mark decided to play properly and win while I played recklessly and was second out of the game. PAH! I realised a long while back that poker is NOT a team sport and ought not to have assigned any weight to playing like idiots and getting out early.
Reminded myself there to pay Boris his tenner as a fine for not leaping out of bed at 6:30am to beat the 7am congestion zone camera.
I've been making some minor moves about job-hunting: things like inflation running at over 3% while my salary is static, emails from on high whinging that people need to observe rules to book holiday (a month's warning for a week, and 2 months for two weeks) regardless of project impact, because it messes up their forecasting and people need to forecast their holidays for the whole of this year ssssssssssssssaake!
The killer was finding that picking the wrong expenses authoriser (from the supplied list) means they delete the claim so now I have sent off the receipts under one claim number, and need to make new claims, with new numbers, and get them validated again, and guess which of twenty names is the right one. The email I sent to ask who CAN authorise them hasn't been answered. It's almost always the little things that get to you, the big things are shrugged off.
The garden has doen well on attention while it's been sunny, I might even plant that grass seed soon but raking stuff about is just as therapeutic as digging and a lot less effort
I had an entire hour before I got a call asking me to work on an internal project: to create a senior mgmt presentation on how 2 different project methodologies fit with 3 different test methodologies and how we can convince clients we do all of them spectacularly well using 'a few slides'.
In the best tradition, someone else 'owns' this so it won't be my name on it, but at least it's interesting.
Brighton was wonderful on Saturday, fish and chips in the open air, and a stroll along the front after getting knocked out of the regional final. I was 46th of 69 qualifiers, out just before Mark but not first out from our team. Result I guess but I think I could/should have played better. Drinking pints of lager across the afternoon anaethetised me for the livescreenS football in the pub but I was glad to be on the train back, even if the american lass in the carriage was unbelievably LOUD, overconfident and irritating
We drifted over to the pub around Sunday teatime, after Formula 1, and discovered the new Sunday poker league was starting. Dinner was exceptionally late as Mark decided to play properly and win while I played recklessly and was second out of the game. PAH! I realised a long while back that poker is NOT a team sport and ought not to have assigned any weight to playing like idiots and getting out early.
Reminded myself there to pay Boris his tenner as a fine for not leaping out of bed at 6:30am to beat the 7am congestion zone camera.
I've been making some minor moves about job-hunting: things like inflation running at over 3% while my salary is static, emails from on high whinging that people need to observe rules to book holiday (a month's warning for a week, and 2 months for two weeks) regardless of project impact, because it messes up their forecasting and people need to forecast their holidays for the whole of this year ssssssssssssssaake!
The killer was finding that picking the wrong expenses authoriser (from the supplied list) means they delete the claim so now I have sent off the receipts under one claim number, and need to make new claims, with new numbers, and get them validated again, and guess which of twenty names is the right one. The email I sent to ask who CAN authorise them hasn't been answered. It's almost always the little things that get to you, the big things are shrugged off.
The garden has doen well on attention while it's been sunny, I might even plant that grass seed soon but raking stuff about is just as therapeutic as digging and a lot less effort
Thursday 15 April 2010
I'm happy
Music for today, Clint Eastwood
Jeremy paid the bill so now it's official; we both go to Brighton on Saturday as players, and Mark has the pleasure of knowing he did qualify higher in the league than I did.
The holiday feeling is still in play, LLM last night was the pleasure it always is, and I did the green thing, based around wanting to wear a dress and choosing which one on the basis of shoes I can walk in that look great.
and it's far too early in the morning
Jeremy paid the bill so now it's official; we both go to Brighton on Saturday as players, and Mark has the pleasure of knowing he did qualify higher in the league than I did.
The holiday feeling is still in play, LLM last night was the pleasure it always is, and I did the green thing, based around wanting to wear a dress and choosing which one on the basis of shoes I can walk in that look great.
and it's far too early in the morning
Sunday 11 April 2010
tinternet
I have a theory that tinternet is rubbish this weekend as a result of half-term and half the world on the case with facebook and other idiocies.
I blamed the minxcat from hell for trashing my connection this morning, her brother having grassed her up for messing with my computer, and finding stuff like the desktop, endless stuff on my machine (must get a password set up on this new notebook) but even I can't blame a 2 year old for killing my wireless connection and pay a lot every month for a constant connection I don't use. I *could* call Richard Branson but I've not been in the mood for lilting welsh accents at £1 a minute to fix it.
About time I actually used some of the tenner or so a month for a mobile dongle affair and even *that* isn't working poroperly so - I blame the massed logins of chillun and their holidaying parents for overloading the oversold infrastructure.
I'm on ollidays too: having escaped the project from hell with great relief and a reasonably translatable 'success' to tuck in my hatband, or garterbelt as the case might be.
I blamed the minxcat from hell for trashing my connection this morning, her brother having grassed her up for messing with my computer, and finding stuff like the desktop, endless stuff on my machine (must get a password set up on this new notebook) but even I can't blame a 2 year old for killing my wireless connection and pay a lot every month for a constant connection I don't use. I *could* call Richard Branson but I've not been in the mood for lilting welsh accents at £1 a minute to fix it.
About time I actually used some of the tenner or so a month for a mobile dongle affair and even *that* isn't working poroperly so - I blame the massed logins of chillun and their holidaying parents for overloading the oversold infrastructure.
I'm on ollidays too: having escaped the project from hell with great relief and a reasonably translatable 'success' to tuck in my hatband, or garterbelt as the case might be.
Sunday 28 March 2010
Spring
The Vernal Equinox is past; I recently found out that the sun rises half an hour earlier in Norwich than it does in Plymouth, and that the railways are responsible for GMT; also that Christchurch College in Oxford has resisted all blandishments to conform and is still using local time.
Three months of playing poker in the pub have gone well; won outright once, and finally got to the end of round 4 on the software poker tournament. Proof on file!
The dining table has six piles of assorted paper on it, representing six months of unclaimed expenses and the funding for me to get really silly and start playing poker for pounds not points.
Terrific news is that Mark, having waited the longest time, has now got three jobs on offer; one certain, one with crossing fingers, eyes and legs; one left-field independent with a safety net and sky-high limits. That, my imminent escape from this nightmare project, and Paul having full-time work for a few weeks even if it is crucifyingly minimum wage which is TAXED ffs!
Sad and not good news, ouch: I know Sid will read this, and that awful rule of three only just occurred to me. His mother is extremely ill, and he is doing a lousy job of being uncaring. I need to call my mother to talk to her about my aunt, and my ex-father-in-law, both of whom died in the last week.
Three months of playing poker in the pub have gone well; won outright once, and finally got to the end of round 4 on the software poker tournament. Proof on file!
The dining table has six piles of assorted paper on it, representing six months of unclaimed expenses and the funding for me to get really silly and start playing poker for pounds not points.
Terrific news is that Mark, having waited the longest time, has now got three jobs on offer; one certain, one with crossing fingers, eyes and legs; one left-field independent with a safety net and sky-high limits. That, my imminent escape from this nightmare project, and Paul having full-time work for a few weeks even if it is crucifyingly minimum wage which is TAXED ffs!
Sad and not good news, ouch: I know Sid will read this, and that awful rule of three only just occurred to me. His mother is extremely ill, and he is doing a lousy job of being uncaring. I need to call my mother to talk to her about my aunt, and my ex-father-in-law, both of whom died in the last week.
Monday 22 March 2010
un autre weekend
action packed weekend here; I'm proud of me: left Markk's feeling relaxed and peaceful Saturday lunchtime( thank you, again) Had a thoroughly pleasant eveining and night with Bill & Claire: lasagne was off the menu, having remembered Claire is allergic to dairy stuff, but I provided an antihistamine tablet so she could polish off my ancient Green and Black's icecream, and she washed it down with a cheap but very creditable eight cans of cider: I stuck to cokking whisky and coke; Bill restricted himself to two bottles of wine and read 'Unseen Academicals' with much chortling and pissing off of Claire since he was meant to have organised getting the book into her Christmas stocking. Claire and I watched episodes 1-4 of Mrs Brown's Boys, laughing out loud a lot and toddling off to bed around 3am, content with the world.
Morning arrived, sun was shining, guests were still asleep, shower was hot, all was right with the world.
Shorts arrived after lunch looking adorable and lavishing 'we love you' attention on me BEFORE I directed them to the princess and pirate goody bags: missy got herself caked in mud playing in the garden, Alex managed to read the word 'bubbles', by himself, on a container with no clues. My son is still my favourite man walking this earth; he remembered the password for my home wireless thing for my new notebook (TGFT); and Dee called me later to thank me for the sweeping bag collection of bog roll and assorted hotel-liberated coffee sachets and milk tubes, and the Nike (sod the tick symbol, they're too tight for my trotters) trainers that I've only worn twice in ten years.
Did washing, hacked the jasmine triffid to a manageable size with the shears (battery or charger or both on the hedgetrimmer having expired) and discovered garden yardage while doing a Charlie Dimmock impression, which amused my son greatly. oops!
Small bit of freecycle moderating and off to Skiddley's with a very lightweight baggins since I haven't been reading much lately: LOTS! of vampire movies waiting for me, pint of S&C, much twittering in the marsh and a massive tease with a Phillip Larkin book of everything he ever published ; gah! how can anyone *read* a poetry anthology? I want my own copy! High Windows:
~ And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is endless, and is nowhere.
to quote Agnes "I'm happy too"
...... but I still haven't done my vexing expenses
Morning arrived, sun was shining, guests were still asleep, shower was hot, all was right with the world.
Shorts arrived after lunch looking adorable and lavishing 'we love you' attention on me BEFORE I directed them to the princess and pirate goody bags: missy got herself caked in mud playing in the garden, Alex managed to read the word 'bubbles', by himself, on a container with no clues. My son is still my favourite man walking this earth; he remembered the password for my home wireless thing for my new notebook (TGFT); and Dee called me later to thank me for the sweeping bag collection of bog roll and assorted hotel-liberated coffee sachets and milk tubes, and the Nike (sod the tick symbol, they're too tight for my trotters) trainers that I've only worn twice in ten years.
Did washing, hacked the jasmine triffid to a manageable size with the shears (battery or charger or both on the hedgetrimmer having expired) and discovered garden yardage while doing a Charlie Dimmock impression, which amused my son greatly. oops!
Small bit of freecycle moderating and off to Skiddley's with a very lightweight baggins since I haven't been reading much lately: LOTS! of vampire movies waiting for me, pint of S&C, much twittering in the marsh and a massive tease with a Phillip Larkin book of everything he ever published ; gah! how can anyone *read* a poetry anthology? I want my own copy! High Windows:
~ And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is endless, and is nowhere.
to quote Agnes "I'm happy too"
...... but I still haven't done my vexing expenses
Friday 12 March 2010
Thursday 11 March 2010
IQ
some kid on TV has just been quoted as having an IQ of 141 which "puts him in the top 1% of population" - huh? Mensa minimum was 146 last time I looked, and that was the top TWO% - but this kid could read at 2 and, at 10 is more articulate than most adults : ...... ah. and also asian background, photogenic, engaging personality, and on a prog about scholarships to Harrow . hmmmphhh
141 sounds a bit low to me; scary kid! But damn cute.
hmmm: looked up the mensa website (must re-do the membership sometime) and the limbo poles are at 132 for one form of measurement and 148 for the 'Culture Fair' one. Best news for my alcohol damaged brain is that you don't need to resit their tests once you've passed; it's a ticket for life. All I can say is that it explained to me, to my satisfaction, why I have such trouble communicating with the rest of the world.
In mensa terms, I'm in a class of my own: too clever for most and not nearly clever enough for the rest.
but I still have good legs, good friends, and good times ;)
141 sounds a bit low to me; scary kid! But damn cute.
hmmm: looked up the mensa website (must re-do the membership sometime) and the limbo poles are at 132 for one form of measurement and 148 for the 'Culture Fair' one. Best news for my alcohol damaged brain is that you don't need to resit their tests once you've passed; it's a ticket for life. All I can say is that it explained to me, to my satisfaction, why I have such trouble communicating with the rest of the world.
In mensa terms, I'm in a class of my own: too clever for most and not nearly clever enough for the rest.
but I still have good legs, good friends, and good times ;)
Monday 8 March 2010
freezing
Discretion and perhaps sense has struck: I've called the plumber and arranged for him to come today and not Friday; called work and declared a cheeky working from home without a laptop. Leaving London in briliant sunshine this morning, ahead of the Boris bite, I used the windscreen washers and caused an instant whiteout as the wipers smeared water across the glass where it instantly froze.
At least it only took the usual hour and a half to get from Mark's to mine, instead of the two and a half hours to get there on Saturday. Who would have thought a traffic lights failure on the Hanger Lane gyrotary would cause such an impossible crawl on the A40?
I've had a fabulous weekend, feeling back on form, thoroughly enjoyed having my demand for a 'proper date, not a poker date' met - in spades. Rib Eye steak and whisky seasoned mustard sauce - mmmmmmmm: eat your heart out, Jamie, he's better looking than you are and a brilliant chef
Managed to get to the LAM for the first time in 7 months and to catch up with people I haven't seen since then or before then, meet a few new people, collect a promise for free lighting crew for my birthday (if I do manage to book the Broken Chords to sing at it) and spend rather a lot of money on finally finding cufflinks interesting and suitable enough for my brother's 50th birthdays.
Almost time for the 9:30 conference call: the Rammy battalion of champagne glasses have made it back into the attic as part of my fetching the radiant eye-damage heater down and the fingerless gloves are working a treat.
Scaring myself now; it's morning, I've been up for hours, achieved something, and I'm in a good mood!
At least it only took the usual hour and a half to get from Mark's to mine, instead of the two and a half hours to get there on Saturday. Who would have thought a traffic lights failure on the Hanger Lane gyrotary would cause such an impossible crawl on the A40?
I've had a fabulous weekend, feeling back on form, thoroughly enjoyed having my demand for a 'proper date, not a poker date' met - in spades. Rib Eye steak and whisky seasoned mustard sauce - mmmmmmmm: eat your heart out, Jamie, he's better looking than you are and a brilliant chef
Managed to get to the LAM for the first time in 7 months and to catch up with people I haven't seen since then or before then, meet a few new people, collect a promise for free lighting crew for my birthday (if I do manage to book the Broken Chords to sing at it) and spend rather a lot of money on finally finding cufflinks interesting and suitable enough for my brother's 50th birthdays.
Almost time for the 9:30 conference call: the Rammy battalion of champagne glasses have made it back into the attic as part of my fetching the radiant eye-damage heater down and the fingerless gloves are working a treat.
Scaring myself now; it's morning, I've been up for hours, achieved something, and I'm in a good mood!
Sunday 7 March 2010
technology challenge
I make my living in IT, I get paid to know stuff about computer systems and applications, and I can't Xing work out why the [post comment] link thing has diappeared from my blog: Hadn't even noticed it was gone till I was told I'd blocked them (eh?)
so, maybe, just MAYbe, now I've twiddled the settings it'll be back
so, maybe, just MAYbe, now I've twiddled the settings it'll be back
Saturday 6 March 2010
the old boiler
Saturday, Mar 6th, 2010 -- You may run around trying to do one too many things today, which actually could prevent you from doing any of them effectively. Finding a sustainable balance between work and play is more difficult when you cannot catch up. Making one too many promises might even prompt you to think about walking away from your commitments without even trying to fulfill them. Don't be foolish; it's smarter to pare back your responsibilities before the day gets under way.
Too true.
I thought the house was a bit cold last night, turned the thermo up on the boiler as usual and didn't give it another thought. House was bloody cold this morning when I eventually surfaced; thought I'd set the timer to go off at 9. Nope, little flashing fault indicator says the fan or the flue is f*** (cough*faulty) I checked the flue thingie outside to see if the local yoof had choked it with something forra laff, but it seems not.
Wondering if it's worth asking my neighbour who drives a van that says 'plumbing and heating' to have a look, but more likely to need to call a 'professional' who'll have an extravagant call out charge and make sure he goes over the included half hour inflicting a patronising monologue about how it's really old, and they don't make these any more, and I really need to replace it, but he'll see what he can do, doesn't have the right parts but will bodge it with this cheap wahtever 'as a favour' and generally tee me off completely. Accompanied by drinking my tea and alternately sucking his teeth and shaking his head at the awfulness of the price he's going to charge me to fix it.
The flying plumbers installed it about 7?8 years ago so it probably is a bit old as these things go, and saving three grand on the original installation means it doesn't owe me much
Checked the net; probably need a new PCB which costs about £100
OK predictions over. Let's see how it goes
5pm : he's been and gone, I am £90 poorer and will be another £300 more poor on Friday when he comes to supply and fit a new PCB board. If only I was good at electrickery: I'd already netted the fact that it was either fan itself or PCB, and it's a straightforward take it out put the new one in. If only. Damn cold; gald I'm staying out tonight - at least I hoep I am! waiting for the washing machine to finish and then I can head for London
Too true.
I thought the house was a bit cold last night, turned the thermo up on the boiler as usual and didn't give it another thought. House was bloody cold this morning when I eventually surfaced; thought I'd set the timer to go off at 9. Nope, little flashing fault indicator says the fan or the flue is f*** (cough*faulty) I checked the flue thingie outside to see if the local yoof had choked it with something forra laff, but it seems not.
Wondering if it's worth asking my neighbour who drives a van that says 'plumbing and heating' to have a look, but more likely to need to call a 'professional' who'll have an extravagant call out charge and make sure he goes over the included half hour inflicting a patronising monologue about how it's really old, and they don't make these any more, and I really need to replace it, but he'll see what he can do, doesn't have the right parts but will bodge it with this cheap wahtever 'as a favour' and generally tee me off completely. Accompanied by drinking my tea and alternately sucking his teeth and shaking his head at the awfulness of the price he's going to charge me to fix it.
The flying plumbers installed it about 7?8 years ago so it probably is a bit old as these things go, and saving three grand on the original installation means it doesn't owe me much
Checked the net; probably need a new PCB which costs about £100
OK predictions over. Let's see how it goes
5pm : he's been and gone, I am £90 poorer and will be another £300 more poor on Friday when he comes to supply and fit a new PCB board. If only I was good at electrickery: I'd already netted the fact that it was either fan itself or PCB, and it's a straightforward take it out put the new one in. If only. Damn cold; gald I'm staying out tonight - at least I hoep I am! waiting for the washing machine to finish and then I can head for London
Thursday 4 March 2010
whoroscope
General Daily Horoscope Influences
Although our empathy makes us more compassionate today, the emotional intensity could be quite strong. Fortunately, we are able to flow with the powerful currents rather than exhaust ourselves fighting against them. Our reactions may be extreme as the Scorpio Moon tilts our perspective away from the center. However, it's not necessarily easy to express our thoughts in words; we may be better off just letting our actions speak for themselves.
Thursday, Mar 4th, 2010 -- You know that you are bringing something important to your job today, and it's not just that you show up. Your ability to sympathize with others blends well with your desire to make your workplace a happier and healthier environment. Almost everything you suggest now is looked upon eagerly by everyone involved, but that's just because you are also willing to listen to what's being said.
Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. I did get some flattering feedback from my sidekick support that the Config Manager (who is quite tassty actually, despite his strange taste in hats) reckons I'm totally up to speed on everything that's going on; not entirely reassuring as that might mean that I have to stay on beyond the end of the month. I'm not sure if I gained or lost points in chasing a super-senior VP off using my desk this morning but I do know that the news of what I said to him hit the rest of the project within half an hour. No, it wasn't rude; I saw him hovering around my desk, looking shifty, caught his eye contact and said 'No, D... , I *am*planning to use my desk today'.
What??? What's wrong with that? I'm as human as he is (though Sid assures me I will probably recover from that and go back to being a real person)
and, especially, wtf does what and how I said something to a VIP type have to do with my ability to do my job?
Besides: said chap and I had a very long and interesting conversation a while back, about his childhood in Scotland, and his upcoming holiday revisiting his pre-teen haunts. No wonder I never got anywhere climbing that greasy pole.
So, what else. Bawd wwiv it now: Watching, well, more listening to Question Time: Carol Vorderman has a better presentation as a presenter than as a person; and poor old Boris has hardly got a word in
Although our empathy makes us more compassionate today, the emotional intensity could be quite strong. Fortunately, we are able to flow with the powerful currents rather than exhaust ourselves fighting against them. Our reactions may be extreme as the Scorpio Moon tilts our perspective away from the center. However, it's not necessarily easy to express our thoughts in words; we may be better off just letting our actions speak for themselves.
Thursday, Mar 4th, 2010 -- You know that you are bringing something important to your job today, and it's not just that you show up. Your ability to sympathize with others blends well with your desire to make your workplace a happier and healthier environment. Almost everything you suggest now is looked upon eagerly by everyone involved, but that's just because you are also willing to listen to what's being said.
Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. I did get some flattering feedback from my sidekick support that the Config Manager (who is quite tassty actually, despite his strange taste in hats) reckons I'm totally up to speed on everything that's going on; not entirely reassuring as that might mean that I have to stay on beyond the end of the month. I'm not sure if I gained or lost points in chasing a super-senior VP off using my desk this morning but I do know that the news of what I said to him hit the rest of the project within half an hour. No, it wasn't rude; I saw him hovering around my desk, looking shifty, caught his eye contact and said 'No, D... , I *am*planning to use my desk today'.
What??? What's wrong with that? I'm as human as he is (though Sid assures me I will probably recover from that and go back to being a real person)
and, especially, wtf does what and how I said something to a VIP type have to do with my ability to do my job?
Besides: said chap and I had a very long and interesting conversation a while back, about his childhood in Scotland, and his upcoming holiday revisiting his pre-teen haunts. No wonder I never got anywhere climbing that greasy pole.
So, what else. Bawd wwiv it now: Watching, well, more listening to Question Time: Carol Vorderman has a better presentation as a presenter than as a person; and poor old Boris has hardly got a word in
Monday 22 February 2010
taxis
So much for organisation. I got up at 5:30 this morning and started work at 6am to get ahead of the game and allow time for a taxi to get me to my dental appointment at 8:45.
I booked a taxi for 8:15, at 7:45. It's now 8:30 and teh taxi firm have reproved me for chasing them up because 'they are delayed by the weather (it's snowing) and they are very busy this morning'. Class.
NOW they're here - why do *I* always get teh blame for being late?
I booked a taxi for 8:15, at 7:45. It's now 8:30 and teh taxi firm have reproved me for chasing them up because 'they are delayed by the weather (it's snowing) and they are very busy this morning'. Class.
NOW they're here - why do *I* always get teh blame for being late?
Saturday 20 February 2010
that hat
I've had a wonderfully relaxed day, chauffeured to Oxford to the Steampunk Exhibition, which was wonderful, but much much smaller than I thought it would be. The building is marvellous, and the contents of the Museum of Science History, fascinating. Netsuke of skeletons; an amazing little brass booklet affair with tiny inscriptions for an unbelievable number of mathematical sorting outs.
We wandered a lot, I bought a copy of Whitsun Weddings, we had double double expressos and cakes sitting outside in a little railed garden listening to a trio of trumpet, saxaphone and tambourine playing on the next corner and were treated to the sight of a silent but amazing display of dance/ballet/acrobatic/dramatic performed by about eight lads who drifted into view, delivered their choreographed routine, then melted silently back into the crowd, disguising themselves by putting their jackets back on. As they left, the yourng trumpeter decided to demonstrate he could do backflips and cartwheels too.
Sid declined to visit in the evening as the short people were imminent (smothered laughter). they arrived, exclaimed squeakingly and shrilly about the peppa pig and Ben10 books with stickers; peacefully scrawled all over the sheets of paper stuck to the fridge door, played for ages with the £1 each flashing light wands (and only broke one each), ate all their dinner and demanded the 'book with rhymes' for their bedtime story.
They're asleep, I'm exhausted - night
ah - the hat! I introduced Sid to the covered market, and he foolishly encouraged me to go INTO the Hat Shop. There it was; a confection of black sinnamay with an explosion of net and polkadots. It had to be tried on. Once I figured out the best way to wear it, I fell entirely in love with it, plotting to marry people off so I would have an excuse to wear it. Soooooooooooooo tempting. I took it off and told the sales lady it was time for her to terrify me, then, and only then, looked at the price tag.
£250.
Yearning, but I didn't buy it. Even #I# can't justify that price for a whimsical hat. Hmmmm. I did get my annual bonus letter this week, and the bonus will be paid this month instead of next (due to some weirdness about tax rules changing) but it's not exactly a life-changing amount and - oh, dear ; I do so like that hat. Perhaps I'll have forgotten about it tomorrow
We wandered a lot, I bought a copy of Whitsun Weddings, we had double double expressos and cakes sitting outside in a little railed garden listening to a trio of trumpet, saxaphone and tambourine playing on the next corner and were treated to the sight of a silent but amazing display of dance/ballet/acrobatic/dramatic performed by about eight lads who drifted into view, delivered their choreographed routine, then melted silently back into the crowd, disguising themselves by putting their jackets back on. As they left, the yourng trumpeter decided to demonstrate he could do backflips and cartwheels too.
Sid declined to visit in the evening as the short people were imminent (smothered laughter). they arrived, exclaimed squeakingly and shrilly about the peppa pig and Ben10 books with stickers; peacefully scrawled all over the sheets of paper stuck to the fridge door, played for ages with the £1 each flashing light wands (and only broke one each), ate all their dinner and demanded the 'book with rhymes' for their bedtime story.
They're asleep, I'm exhausted - night
ah - the hat! I introduced Sid to the covered market, and he foolishly encouraged me to go INTO the Hat Shop. There it was; a confection of black sinnamay with an explosion of net and polkadots. It had to be tried on. Once I figured out the best way to wear it, I fell entirely in love with it, plotting to marry people off so I would have an excuse to wear it. Soooooooooooooo tempting. I took it off and told the sales lady it was time for her to terrify me, then, and only then, looked at the price tag.
£250.
Yearning, but I didn't buy it. Even #I# can't justify that price for a whimsical hat. Hmmmm. I did get my annual bonus letter this week, and the bonus will be paid this month instead of next (due to some weirdness about tax rules changing) but it's not exactly a life-changing amount and - oh, dear ; I do so like that hat. Perhaps I'll have forgotten about it tomorrow
Wednesday 17 February 2010
busy
Poker in the pub on Mondays (got to 2nd in the league, currently 5th but still another 7 games to play), girl's nights and dinners during the week, time with my sister in London, recent Champagne Rammy, having the short people around for sleepovers, being spoiled on Valentine's Eve - the year is tumbling into it's normal social chaos
Joe Allen's tonight
Less interestingly (apart from the company) probably Pizza Express tomorrow night
Steampunk Exhibition on Saturday
Still Teed off with work and not in the mood to socialise with people who have treated me badly but tempted to go get my free drinks next week at the Old Bank of England I didn't know it was between Sweeney Todd's and the Pie Shop; the venue looks interesting
Also next week, the restaurant near the British Museum whose name I've already forgotten next Thursday with a couple of friends I haven't seen for a long, long time
-and still haven't got to the cinema to see Nine so that might deal with the remaining weeknight next week (Fridays are reserved for eiether working till silly o'clock and not getting home till 10:45pm or going round Sid's to talk, drink wine, and watch DVDs till even sillier o'clock)
I'll backfill on the Rammy and Valentine's - eventually
Also trying to make time to get my CV together for a cheeky punt at a rather well-paid job in the city.
ah, and mostly happy - apart from work: and waking at 3:30am and not being able to get back to sleep
Joe Allen's tonight
Less interestingly (apart from the company) probably Pizza Express tomorrow night
Steampunk Exhibition on Saturday
Still Teed off with work and not in the mood to socialise with people who have treated me badly but tempted to go get my free drinks next week at the Old Bank of England I didn't know it was between Sweeney Todd's and the Pie Shop; the venue looks interesting
Also next week, the restaurant near the British Museum whose name I've already forgotten next Thursday with a couple of friends I haven't seen for a long, long time
-and still haven't got to the cinema to see Nine so that might deal with the remaining weeknight next week (Fridays are reserved for eiether working till silly o'clock and not getting home till 10:45pm or going round Sid's to talk, drink wine, and watch DVDs till even sillier o'clock)
I'll backfill on the Rammy and Valentine's - eventually
Also trying to make time to get my CV together for a cheeky punt at a rather well-paid job in the city.
ah, and mostly happy - apart from work: and waking at 3:30am and not being able to get back to sleep
Wednesday 10 February 2010
venting
That job-hubting idea looks significantly more attractive now than it did this morning.
This IS the worst project I've ever worked on and there aren't many upsides outside of not having to spend four hours a day commuting.
My personality needs a makeover, I need to learn not to care
This IS the worst project I've ever worked on and there aren't many upsides outside of not having to spend four hours a day commuting.
My personality needs a makeover, I need to learn not to care
morning
I'm awake, functioning, sitting in an hotel room with coffee and cigarette : any bets on my being at work on time?
Thinking about work, and a passing comment on TV jsut now that inflation is running at 2.9% and savings at 1%; makes my 0% payrise even more useful.
Thinking more seriously about looking for another job; even if it would mean having to arrive at the office on time every day
Thinking about work, and a passing comment on TV jsut now that inflation is running at 2.9% and savings at 1%; makes my 0% payrise even more useful.
Thinking more seriously about looking for another job; even if it would mean having to arrive at the office on time every day
Sunday 7 February 2010
and found
This might be the best place to tell people I've found the power lead for my laptop and the little leather bag with the phone charger. Next to the books which were on the dining table last Saturday, and underneath Big Red.
I blame Mark (he's getting used to that) if he hadn't done the new man bit and made the bed last weekend, I might have chucked BR back on the bed, next to the teddy bear. Mind you, if my bedroom looked a little less like a rummage sale, I wouldn't have spent hours looking for them
Upside is that I've tidied up all sorts of odd places in the house and re-acquainted myself with the hoover as well
cheese! wrote this ages ago and just found it when I was closing the machine down. 'nother fast forward week coming up ....
I blame Mark (he's getting used to that) if he hadn't done the new man bit and made the bed last weekend, I might have chucked BR back on the bed, next to the teddy bear. Mind you, if my bedroom looked a little less like a rummage sale, I wouldn't have spent hours looking for them
Upside is that I've tidied up all sorts of odd places in the house and re-acquainted myself with the hoover as well
cheese! wrote this ages ago and just found it when I was closing the machine down. 'nother fast forward week coming up ....
Thursday 4 February 2010
Rammy 2010
I seem to have lost several days here, and have enjoyed all of them but been a bit lacking in time to post it for posterity ;
been on the go since ummmmm - a long time ago, and still in mid-go, all of it great fun.
Walking into Mark's pub about 7.30pm, being told he had been in, finding his hat and coat on a table which had two drinks on it. Barstaff were a bit offhand but then I was tired from work and not in sparkle mode. *shrug* the pub was quite crowded and it's a biggish table.
His coming back from the gents, giving me a quick kiss and immediately dashing outside for a cigarette did seem a little odd. More than a little odd when the girl I'd passed smoking outside came in to sit at the same table and kept looking at me. Wondered about that.
She turned out to have spent all afternoon with him. .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
=addendum for the wider viewpoint
just as well she's my sister, we'd all had lunch together in Chinatown, we'd arranged to meet there, and to choreograph a massive wind-up on the pub.
Mark had told them K was an internet date, that I was working in Aylesbury, and generally collecting lad-points
He discovered his mates are rotten bastards who only laughed their socks off while he drama'd his plight
He also discovered K and I can do the drama thing quite well, which made him feel increasingly uncomfortable : I think he was beginning to wonder which reality was the imaginary one.
The pub was much entertained (and a little relieved I think) to discover they'd been had.
been on the go since ummmmm - a long time ago, and still in mid-go, all of it great fun.
Walking into Mark's pub about 7.30pm, being told he had been in, finding his hat and coat on a table which had two drinks on it. Barstaff were a bit offhand but then I was tired from work and not in sparkle mode. *shrug* the pub was quite crowded and it's a biggish table.
His coming back from the gents, giving me a quick kiss and immediately dashing outside for a cigarette did seem a little odd. More than a little odd when the girl I'd passed smoking outside came in to sit at the same table and kept looking at me. Wondered about that.
She turned out to have spent all afternoon with him. .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
=addendum for the wider viewpoint
just as well she's my sister, we'd all had lunch together in Chinatown, we'd arranged to meet there, and to choreograph a massive wind-up on the pub.
Mark had told them K was an internet date, that I was working in Aylesbury, and generally collecting lad-points
He discovered his mates are rotten bastards who only laughed their socks off while he drama'd his plight
He also discovered K and I can do the drama thing quite well, which made him feel increasingly uncomfortable : I think he was beginning to wonder which reality was the imaginary one.
The pub was much entertained (and a little relieved I think) to discover they'd been had.
Friday 29 January 2010
losing a day
I have successfully convinced my subconscious that today is Saturday (helps that I'm on holiday today) and the Rammy is tonight. Fate always gives in to temptation when it comes to me, and time, so I'll make the early cry that I won't be ready in time for the Rammy, but maybe, just maybe, I won't be stressed to hell tomorrow and getting out of the shower as people arrive ....
Sofa has been moved to make a bit more space, I have my list of small and large things I plan to get done, a shopping list, a menu plot, and my sister to keep me company: so it's all going rather well this morning
Something else crossed off my list of things I must do is taxing the red devil. I couldn't find the letter from DVLA the other week and gave up at the idea of having to track down all the paperwork and phone some 0300 number but today, randomly, I found the letter lurking behind the African mask in the hall and it all simplified. £190 silently detached itself from my bank account and ghosted into the coffers of the goviment.
I heard on the radio that an estimated 1 in 20 motorists don't have insurance, and that this number is likely to have increased following the awfulness of the recession, redundancies etc. So we who pay sometimes extortionate amounts for car insurance are being penalised for the risks of those who don't. Why don't they put the road tax and automatic 3rd party insurance on the price of petrol? Cars run fine without tax, insurance, MOT but go nowhere without fuel so it's a guaranteed source of income, those who use the roads most often will pay most and people won't be paying for other people's lack of insurance etc. Probably too sensible.
One of the girls in the office talked me through the streetcar concept; for an initial joining fee, you can hire a car when you need it and pay a fixed amount per hour/day which includes fuel then leave it in any of their designated spots when you're done. Wouldn't work for me but it's a great idea for people who live in or visit London and would otherwise be paying overheads on a car, plus residents parking if they can find it, plus congestion charges - hmmmm, she didn't mention if the streetcars cost includes congestion charges. Anyway, I had heard about it before but didn't know how it worked, seems like a stunningly good idea to me.
Sofa has been moved to make a bit more space, I have my list of small and large things I plan to get done, a shopping list, a menu plot, and my sister to keep me company: so it's all going rather well this morning
Something else crossed off my list of things I must do is taxing the red devil. I couldn't find the letter from DVLA the other week and gave up at the idea of having to track down all the paperwork and phone some 0300 number but today, randomly, I found the letter lurking behind the African mask in the hall and it all simplified. £190 silently detached itself from my bank account and ghosted into the coffers of the goviment.
I heard on the radio that an estimated 1 in 20 motorists don't have insurance, and that this number is likely to have increased following the awfulness of the recession, redundancies etc. So we who pay sometimes extortionate amounts for car insurance are being penalised for the risks of those who don't. Why don't they put the road tax and automatic 3rd party insurance on the price of petrol? Cars run fine without tax, insurance, MOT but go nowhere without fuel so it's a guaranteed source of income, those who use the roads most often will pay most and people won't be paying for other people's lack of insurance etc. Probably too sensible.
One of the girls in the office talked me through the streetcar concept; for an initial joining fee, you can hire a car when you need it and pay a fixed amount per hour/day which includes fuel then leave it in any of their designated spots when you're done. Wouldn't work for me but it's a great idea for people who live in or visit London and would otherwise be paying overheads on a car, plus residents parking if they can find it, plus congestion charges - hmmmm, she didn't mention if the streetcars cost includes congestion charges. Anyway, I had heard about it before but didn't know how it worked, seems like a stunningly good idea to me.
Wednesday 27 January 2010
zebedee
busy, busy, non-stop weekend. Shorts are gorgeous though exhausting; I still have my fabulous relationship with time and (with the help of a very friendly lift to a more useful station so I could avoid the megrims of weekend engineering works)actually arrived in town at a reasonable time on Sunday to be spoiled rotten by an unexpected dinner menu to go with the xmas wine which was properly appreciated - cheers Jane!
Pokering is the latest fidget: 4th of 12 last night, truly relaxed, enjoyed and and enjoyable evening: online tonight; 250 to 596 : maybe I should venture the money stuff - but not until I get my expenses in and paid so I can kill the nastier kind of plastic cards
Not booking the hotel till Monday morning meant I missed the usual so-so one and am instead in a more flash hotel which has a very draughty set of french windows opening onto a very nice stone balcony where I can set fire to things without setting off the fire alarm. Nice in-room dins too, and an ordinary phone line instead if an 0870 ripoff so a friend can call me. Good (OK, only OK but)productive day at work ; lush room : think I might stay here again.
Even without the upgraded room, free internet, closer to the office, less soulless reception area and interesting artwork outweighs the not-inclusive breakfast.
Mostly I think real people interfaces over the weekend would create a benign viewpoint anyway
Looking forward to this weekend too
Pokering is the latest fidget: 4th of 12 last night, truly relaxed, enjoyed and and enjoyable evening: online tonight; 250 to 596 : maybe I should venture the money stuff - but not until I get my expenses in and paid so I can kill the nastier kind of plastic cards
Not booking the hotel till Monday morning meant I missed the usual so-so one and am instead in a more flash hotel which has a very draughty set of french windows opening onto a very nice stone balcony where I can set fire to things without setting off the fire alarm. Nice in-room dins too, and an ordinary phone line instead if an 0870 ripoff so a friend can call me. Good (OK, only OK but)productive day at work ; lush room : think I might stay here again.
Even without the upgraded room, free internet, closer to the office, less soulless reception area and interesting artwork outweighs the not-inclusive breakfast.
Mostly I think real people interfaces over the weekend would create a benign viewpoint anyway
Looking forward to this weekend too
Thursday 21 January 2010
Rammy 2010
It's time to fetch the flute platoon from the attic and attempt to force my living space into some semblance of gracious living. Some photographs from previous extravaganzas uploaded; several years are unrepresented but it's been a legend for a most of my last three or four lives.
We had serious fireworks for a couple of years till some killjoy neighbours decided they should complain to the council and I got a threatening letter. The letter of the law doesn't actually match 'there should be a law' attitudes. Oh well. Fireworks had to come off the menu
I want/need to get one of those negatives to PC converters to be able to upload some earlier Rammy pics - the Mandarin Crew in full flig; Paul H forced to play Cinderella by the indomitable Nellie, Niko made to wear a frock and serve drinks as punishment for being improperly dressed.... When I get a roundtuit, I'll document the history : suffice for now to say it all began with a bet where I won the bottle of champagne and instituted a party to celebrate the first pay-cheque of the year.
The timing clash with Self-Assessment is a total rotten no-fair: having a good time versus being sensible....... c'mon, what do you think?
For today; not being able to take a break till almost 4pm was rescued by the chance to have a guilt-free afternoon coffee with MD, who had been ermmmmm rather early for an appointment in town.
We had serious fireworks for a couple of years till some killjoy neighbours decided they should complain to the council and I got a threatening letter. The letter of the law doesn't actually match 'there should be a law' attitudes. Oh well. Fireworks had to come off the menu
I want/need to get one of those negatives to PC converters to be able to upload some earlier Rammy pics - the Mandarin Crew in full flig; Paul H forced to play Cinderella by the indomitable Nellie, Niko made to wear a frock and serve drinks as punishment for being improperly dressed.... When I get a roundtuit, I'll document the history : suffice for now to say it all began with a bet where I won the bottle of champagne and instituted a party to celebrate the first pay-cheque of the year.
The timing clash with Self-Assessment is a total rotten no-fair: having a good time versus being sensible....... c'mon, what do you think?
For today; not being able to take a break till almost 4pm was rescued by the chance to have a guilt-free afternoon coffee with MD, who had been ermmmmm rather early for an appointment in town.
Wednesday 20 January 2010
film tribute
the people in the room hotel room next door have only just stopped banging on the wall yelling about how loudly I was laughing at something el romeo sent me
6th of 12 in only the third game of poker I ever played with that lot (in my distant local) has got to be good - and possibly the best game I'll ever play
and anyway, it was a Queen and something rubbish, didn't match the hearts on the table and I didn't know enough to know it was a stupid bet. Luckily, the other guy that stayed in had a marginally more useless hand.
Worked till some stupid hour tonight so wasn't able to get to see Nine tonight (cue Bob Seger) either; too late to get to Watford last night for what turned out to be a great evening for those who live sensible lives and left work at the proper time.
Not taking any bets on getting the Battersea connection connected tomorrow night but it'll be good if I can
Getting in the bath with the last of the bottle of wine now, aka - anddddddddddd RELAX!
I always wondered what it would be like to go out with a film director, but I was thinking more champagne than Kronenburg
6th of 12 in only the third game of poker I ever played with that lot (in my distant local) has got to be good - and possibly the best game I'll ever play
and anyway, it was a Queen and something rubbish, didn't match the hearts on the table and I didn't know enough to know it was a stupid bet. Luckily, the other guy that stayed in had a marginally more useless hand.
Worked till some stupid hour tonight so wasn't able to get to see Nine tonight (cue Bob Seger) either; too late to get to Watford last night for what turned out to be a great evening for those who live sensible lives and left work at the proper time.
Not taking any bets on getting the Battersea connection connected tomorrow night but it'll be good if I can
Getting in the bath with the last of the bottle of wine now, aka - anddddddddddd RELAX!
I always wondered what it would be like to go out with a film director, but I was thinking more champagne than Kronenburg
Tuesday 19 January 2010
recidivist
back to realitee - sing! you know the words
there is absolutely NO point in paying £29 for a bottle of coloured alcohol from the room service menu
played poker, didn't do too badly
played with the heart-in-the-right-place barman to cart my suitcase
hell! I'm pissed!
last night ; making a major body-language statement, "you're MINE". He seemed happy with that comment, and the extremely LOUD body language
He IS da man ; 4sure etc : ridiculous grin on my face all day today even if sleep-deprived
there is absolutely NO point in paying £29 for a bottle of coloured alcohol from the room service menu
played poker, didn't do too badly
played with the heart-in-the-right-place barman to cart my suitcase
hell! I'm pissed!
last night ; making a major body-language statement, "you're MINE". He seemed happy with that comment, and the extremely LOUD body language
He IS da man ; 4sure etc : ridiculous grin on my face all day today even if sleep-deprived
Tuesday 5 January 2010
Bedtime Story
Once upon a time, there was a little boy who was, for some unknown reason, terrified of trousers.
This wasn’t much of a problem until it came time for him to go to school and his mother showed him ~ a pair of trousers! Worse than that, she expected him to wear the dreadful things.
It was too much, he was utterly terrified and ran, screaming, from the house and all that he had known to hide under a bridge, refusing to answer anyone, or let anyone see him.
Mostly, he lived on goats. Goats were a bit nervous crossing the bridge and would keep hesitating, and stopping then starting again until they sounded as if they were tap-dancing across it, which would wake the boy up and remind him how hungry he was, and how frightened, and how little, and he would shout out as LOUD as he could that it was HIS bridge and to leave him alone!
Being under the bridge made his voice echo and rumble so people thought there was a HUGHju troll under there and would run away.
Mostly, little goats were so frightened they would die of fright and fall off the bridge.
Mostly, ‘Gyptians would cook the goat, and leave a big plate of curried goat with peas and rice for the troll under the bridge. He liked that better than the pointless pennies people would throw in the water when they crossed over.
One day a trueserman came across the bridge in a little cart pulled by a goat. The boy was very hungry that day, goats had been avoiding the bridge for weeks and he was starving, which made him very bad-tempered.
He ROARED his hunger and the poor goat was so frightened it leapt out of its harness and fell off the bridge
So, the trueserman was stuck on the bridge with his little cart, and went to look under the bridge and saw the boy. He was called a trueserman because he always knew the truth and knew there wasn't a troll under the bridge, just a noisy boy.
“You got my goat” said the trueserman, “I want it back”
The boy got scared again and ran away, even though the trueserman was wearing a kilt, not trousers, or even trews. The trueserman chased him along the riverbank, among the rushes. In the reeds was a rush basket, or maybe the other way round. And in the basket was a baby.
The trueserman kicked the basket over and the baby fell out, but this is a bedtime story so nothing nasty can happen to a baby. Instead, the baby turned into a swarm of midgies and flew up the truesermans kilt. Midgies bite. That’s how the Highland fling was invented.
Suddenly a great warrior appeared, wearing a strange black helmet with a pattern of pinstripes and a bow.
This wasn’t much of a problem until it came time for him to go to school and his mother showed him ~ a pair of trousers! Worse than that, she expected him to wear the dreadful things.
It was too much, he was utterly terrified and ran, screaming, from the house and all that he had known to hide under a bridge, refusing to answer anyone, or let anyone see him.
Was he was a troll?
Yes, I suppose he was, well, that’s what people SAID he was, after a while
Mostly, he lived on goats. Goats were a bit nervous crossing the bridge and would keep hesitating, and stopping then starting again until they sounded as if they were tap-dancing across it, which would wake the boy up and remind him how hungry he was, and how frightened, and how little, and he would shout out as LOUD as he could that it was HIS bridge and to leave him alone!
Being under the bridge made his voice echo and rumble so people thought there was a HUGHju troll under there and would run away.
Mostly, little goats were so frightened they would die of fright and fall off the bridge.
Mostly, ‘Gyptians would cook the goat, and leave a big plate of curried goat with peas and rice for the troll under the bridge. He liked that better than the pointless pennies people would throw in the water when they crossed over.
One day a trueserman came across the bridge in a little cart pulled by a goat. The boy was very hungry that day, goats had been avoiding the bridge for weeks and he was starving, which made him very bad-tempered.
He ROARED his hunger and the poor goat was so frightened it leapt out of its harness and fell off the bridge
I think the boy’s name was Donald]
No, it was Roary (R H U A R H I, he was Scottish)
I think his name was Donald
It was Rhuarhi.
Donald
Rhuarhi
Donald
Do you want to hear this story or not?
I want to hear the story
Be quiet and listen then
OK but his name IS Donald - - - Come and sit over here
What?
Sit here. Come.
Vlad, do you want to hear this story?
Yes, Grannie
Enough with the Grannie
OK, Grannie
How old are you?
twelve
No, you're not. You want to hear this story or not?
Yeth
So, the trueserman was stuck on the bridge with his little cart, and went to look under the bridge and saw the boy. He was called a trueserman because he always knew the truth and knew there wasn't a troll under the bridge, just a noisy boy.
“You got my goat” said the trueserman, “I want it back”
The boy got scared again and ran away, even though the trueserman was wearing a kilt, not trousers, or even trews. The trueserman chased him along the riverbank, among the rushes. In the reeds was a rush basket, or maybe the other way round. And in the basket was a baby.
The trueserman kicked the basket over and the baby fell out, but this is a bedtime story so nothing nasty can happen to a baby. Instead, the baby turned into a swarm of midgies and flew up the truesermans kilt. Midgies bite. That’s how the Highland fling was invented.
Is that midge ure’s?
~ shut up or I’ll sit somewhere else (translation from helpless laughter)
Suddenly a great warrior appeared, wearing a strange black helmet with a pattern of pinstripes and a bow.
Take that off.
Shan’t
Take it off now.
Giggle
The End
Of ‘that’ story
The story about the warrior Vlad and his strange headgear is for grown-ups.
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