To explain....

Moch once had a boyfriend called Bryn, I think it was Bryn. I forget how old we were but I would hazard a guess at 14/15... Anyway, I called him Bra, not just once, I called him Bra all the time, and one day, we were outside her house and the boys were throwing a football around and I said something about Bra and I think it was that one time too many and then next thing I know the football was thrown at my head.

So my eyes watered and mys head spun and I think I was in shock, I think she was a little in shock too, so I went home, and then refused to answer the door, or talk to her at all, until she started pushing notes under the door, notes that said she was so sorry, so so sorry, and she would never do it again, and she really didn't mean to do it at all, and she was so sorry, and please would I stop calling her boyfriend Bra?

So, do you tell them the dress is hideous or....

Here's a question; would you rather I was:

a) The kind of friend who tells you exactly what they think when asked an opinion, the kind of person who, when in discussion, says what they think no matter how much it clashes with your point of view.

or

b) The kind of friend who tells you that yes, you are right, and you want me to tell you that you are right, so that is what I am doing, you are right.

I think that most people, when asked that question, would go for A, but a lot would secretly like B.

So what does that mean? Or is it a matter of deciding what kind of friend you should be according to the situation? I'm friend A, I always have been, I can't just agree with a person so as not to upset them, I've definitely lost friends in the past because of this, but I like to think the friends I have are real friends, no one I know would think of me as a sycophant and I wouldn't want to be one.

But does that breed resentment and tension? Does it mean that conversation are avoided and opinions are unspoken? Do my friends appreciate my candor, or dislike it?

I used to put my friends into categories, person A was the person to talk to if I needed to wail and be told that yes, my life was SO VERY DIFFICULT, person B was the person to talk to if I needed a slap in the face and told to pull myself together, nothing is ever that bad you big drama queen, and person C was the person who said who knows? let's get ice cream!

I like to think I could be all of those things, that I could read a person, decide what they needed at that moment and deliver, but it's very difficult over the wires, miles away from that person. Email can be so cold, and my instinct to be honest and plain can be translated at the other end as argumentative and uncaring.

Maybe I should be person C, ice cream never upset anybody.

Actually ice cream would possibly upset a diabetic, but I could suggest a fun fair or something.

Taking the piss

I get the renewal quote for my car insurance, and it is ridiculous, it is marginally less than last year but as I haven't claimed anything in the last 12 months I find this incredibly annoying.

I use a popular website which everyone remembers because of the seemingly compulsory brain melting advert and manage to get a new, lower quote. I call my existing insurers, they go off to have a discussion (for 'discussion' read 'man who answered the phone probably clicked on the button under my name on his screen that says 'cheaper quote for if she phones having shopped around and found it elsewhere'') and come back having beaten my new quote.

So WHY, can I not have it that cheap in the FIRST PLACE?! I've just wasted 20 minutes that I could have wasted looking for shoes!!

2nd worst dream I've ever had

The worst dream I ever had was when I was 6, I can remember it as clearly as if it was last night, I'm in a large house and I walk into a bathroom, where I see my father holding my sister who is a baby, she is very still and covered in blood, there is a knife on the floor, he sees me, he drops my sister in the sink, picks up the knife and begins to walk towards me. I run out of the room and into a bedroom where I see my grandmother (mum's side), I tell her she has to come with me, that Daddy's a bad man, she says that it's too late, that she's already dead and turns away from me. I run out of the room and see my grandfather hanging from a rope attached to something on the ceiling. My mother is standing at the top of the stairs holding a roll of carpet, it begins to unroll down the staircase and when it gets to the bottom I see that my grandmother was inside it, her face is blue. I run to the door, open it and run down the road as fast as I can, then I woke up screaming.

I know exactly where this dream came from, my maternal grandparents passed away (completely natural causes I should add) when I was 3 (grandfather) and when I was 5 (grandmother). My mother worked nights and had fallen asleep on the sofa one evening before dad was home from work, I was 6 and took full advantage of the situation, watching TV until about 10pm, feeling oh so grown up, I think I thought there would be lots more children's TV that I was missing by being sent to bed, unfortunately I saw a holocaust documentary and when my father got home he found me sitting on the carpet transfixed by these horrendous images on the TV, sobbing.

Watching horrible documentary about people being murdered + only dead people my 6 year old self knew about = dream about murdered grandparents. Quite why my father was the Michael Myers of my dream I don't know...

So last night I had a similar dream, except this one ended with me sitting on a bed in a hotel (weird that), being attacked by Liz, who was trying to smash a pint glass over my head while shouting "fucker!". I woke up screaming when she had managed to smash the glass and was trying to stab me in the eye with a pointy shard.

Death by pint glass, I have NO idea where that came from. Perhaps I have had a row with Liz and it was so traumatic that my brain has erased it from my memory, I am 98% sure that hasn't happened though... (got to allow 2% for possible mental tendancy's, I could be a secret psycho, do psycho's know they are psycho's?) perhaps it's because I haven't spoken to Liz in a week or so and I was thinking about that, and perhaps I am afraid of being murdered? Put the two together and I have a dream about being murdered by Liz.....? Nope, that doesn't make any sense.

I do know that my screaming also woke up the man in the room next to mine who knocked on my door at 3.34am to make sure I was ok.

I think I much prefer dreams about Demi Moore, Matthew Woodward, and jet ski's.

And another thing!

Just because I signed up to the Anya Hindmarch newsletter so that I could find out when the 'I am not a plastic bag' bag was available, doesn't mean I want to know about everything that Anya Hindmarch does. The emails that come in might aswell say, subject: YOU CAN'T BUY ANY OF THIS STUFF BECAUSE IT COSTS THOUSANDS OF POUNDS.

I didn't even get a 'I am not a plastic bag' bag, Sainsbury's in Northfield ran out, not that I've seen anyone in Northfield carrying said stylish and yet environmentally friendly bag.

Scum.

Plastic bag carrying scum!

grumble grumble grumble....

Two things I always wanted:

1. An office of my own, with my name on the door and a pretty view.
2. A super great smart phone pda type thingummy so I could pick up emails/check stuff and generally be touch with everything all the time.

Two things which are hugely over-rated:

1. Having an office of your own with your name on the door and a pretty view, it means that:
a) people know where you are, and they come and find you.
b) the rest of the time you're just in a room on your own, and that's not fun.
c) the pretty view turns out to be code for 'can't open the window because the air outside smells of manure'.

2. A super great smart phone pda type thingummy that means you can pick up emails/check stuff and generally be touch with everything all the time, because:
a) You're in touch with everything, all the time, whoever though that would be a good idea?! When my boss sends me emails at 7.20pm on a Saturday, I know about it, when my boss sends me emails at 1.30am on a Tuesday, I KNOW ABOUT IT.
b) when you do receive an email, and you're at your desk, your phone beeps, and then your PC beeps, giving you the distinct impression that the technology in the room is shouting at you.
c) And then, because of all the sodding applications on the bloody phone, it runs out of battery power roughly 20 minutes after you've charged it.

Having a miserable afternoon, can you tell?

When sleep is not enough

Last week I lost my Sat Nav, I realised I had lost it when the M40 was closed and I had to use a map, A MAP, to get home, 4 hours later and I was like a refried bean, grey and mushy. I phoned the hotel I had stayed in last week and sure enough, someone had found it on the floor of the third floor corridor and handed it in. There are good people in the world still.

This week I lost my car key, I realised I had lost it when about to exit my hotel room this morning, I spent 20 minutes on the floor of the hotel room searching, only to be informed by the same receptionist who had given me back the Sat Nav that I had left it on the check in desk the previous evening.

She said I looked tired, I had a look in the mirror and yes, clearly the highlighter is no longer working, it needs a wing man, I must invest in some touche eclait and a hair cut, and I should drink more water.

Either that, or the parts of my brain that control not losing things, and the parts of my brain that control not looking 50 when you are 26, are conspiring against me. I'm not sure what touche eclait can do about that....

Dream

I'm in my house, there is a knock at the front door, I open it to discover Mr Woodward and Mr Dzeryn, Mr Woodward says "we're off, are you coming?", I say "yeah, sure!", I call to Glenn, "I'm off to Australia then!", we climb onto jet ski's in the ocean outside my house, Matt and Ant on one, me on another, Matt's jet ski doesn't really start and mine keeps sinking, we struggle on until we reach a small jetty. We climb onto the jetty and walk towards a small deli, Matt says "there's a great place we can go to for lunch, it sells plates of meat and rice", Demi Moore approaches, she tells us she knows somewhere great but we'll have to race her to get there, she shouts "race!" and we all run down a hill lined with little shops, we run past a sign that says "Welcome to Alaska", my alarm goes off and wakes me up. I am distraught that I cannot see the end of the dream.

30 seconds from mars, could you hurry up so you can get there? You are boring us.

I am in the car, I am listening to 30 seconds from Mars and the song that both Kerrang and Radio 1 are playing OBSESSIVELY. I am thinking that if someone had told me when I was 14 that the delelelelelelectable Jared Leto would front a band, and sing about being pained and tortured while staring meaningfully at the camera during the video, I would absolutely have come in my pants. What a combination, those eyes, that wailing, I was overly dramatic, oh that I had to wait so long for such a dream to come true.

As it is, I am 26, it is 6.40am and I am wishing the delelelelelelectable Jared Leto would shut the fuck up. How old is he now? 35? He needs to move on, that red car is long gone...

Left in the dark.

A family friend who you respect and like throws a party for an ailing relative, he's not sure if she'll make it to Christmas so he dresses up as Santa Claus and the family has an impromptu Chrsitmas Day celebration. He is bright, funny and generous.

Two weeks later he is walking home from work and, almost like a pause on the way, he throws himself off a bridge that sits over a dual carriageway during rush hour traffic. His body is identified by the cards in the wallet he didn't take out of his pocket. He leaves no explanation.

You think you have all the answers, that good or bad, life plods forward with few surprises. Then something explodes in the air, devastating the people you love the most, and you feel like you've been punched in the face.

Pride comes before a fall, I am living proof.

On Saturday I went shopping with my mother and I bought two suits, I spent the rest of the weekend on a mini 'get me' high, because the skirts were a size 12, the jackets were a size 10, and they were all half price.

I come to work this morning, all smug and feeling slim and confident in my new suit, it is dark blue, I have teamed it with a silvery grey wrap top, I feel stylish and professional, I walk into an early meeting, I sit next to a man wearing some kind of farmer outfit, I could be straight off the streets of New York City, Farmer Man leans towards me:

FM: New suit?

Me: Yes, yes it is.

FM: You've left the label on the sleave.

And of all the labels to leave on a suit jacket, it could have been 'Tailored by Next', it could have been 'size 10' (or as I would have wanted it to say "SIZE 10!!!!!"), but no, it said "machine washable". I sneaked out of the meeting early, locked my office door, and gave myself a talking to.

I'm remembering now when I worked at the college I was in prior to this one, I walked across an office full of women, sat down, and one of them came over and whispered "did you know the seam on your trousers is split?", and there it was, the seam had split all the way up my bum, exposing my bright pink knickers to an office full of the bitchiest women I have ever met.

Life lessons, never get too cocky, either your underwear will be exposed or everyone will see how you're trying to avoid dry cleaning.

and then I went to sleep naked in a field

I always wanted to call a post something like that, and now I can!

The chap I work with who had the medieval wedding had a party on Saturday night, so we took the new GIANT tent and had a brilliant time. Last time we camped it was considerably warmer, but I was freezing all night, so this time, we took an air bed, double sleeping bag, double duvet and four pillows. We also followed advice given to us by a couple of seasoned campers and, rather than the 14 layers I usually wear, we slept naked.... at 5am I had to get out of the tent for some air because I was so hot I couldn't breathe, bloody genius! Always get naked, I'm so glad there is a time when that rule can be applied!

I also tried something for the very first time...

I am debauched, I am like the Marquis De Sade, only without all the syphilis.

My boyfriend the genius

Glenn's doing a course, he joined his firm as an administrator (that's how all the greatest minds start out by the way), and pretty soon they asked him to hop on the graduate train, destination Career Land (was that too cheesy? Possibly....).

There is a price to pay for this opportunity and it's two years of study alongside his full-time job (graduate surveyor), and his part-time job (putting up with me). Once a month our house is a little terrace of tension (again with the cheese, what's wrong with me?!) as he completes assignments in time for deadlines set in stone.

A couple of weeks ago was one such weekend, on the Sunday he locked himself in the study and hammered away at an assignment that seemed to baffle him. I kept myself to myself, I have long since learned that Glenn does not want to talk to anyone, no one can help him, the best and only thing you can do is stay away and bring him the ocassional cup of tea and a hobnob. Sometimes even this annoys him, so it's best just to stay away, and this was one such day. I stayed downstairs, cleaning and watching Grey's Anatomy re-runs (ah, twas a nearly perfect day), and then suddenly he bursts into the living room;

Him: I can't do it!!

Me: Sorry?

Him: I don't get it! I can't do it! I'm going to FAIL

Me: Is there anyone on the course you can talk to?

Him: The VLE is down, there's no one

For those of you not in the know, you're very lucky, and VLE is Virtual Learning Environment

Me: Anyone from work you can talk to?

Him: No, anyway, I have to do this on my own.

Me: Ok... clutching at straws but desperate to be helpful... what about my dad?! He knows loads of stuff about stuff!

Him: I can't call your Dad! You don't understand, I will FAIL, FAIL, The ENTIRE course. Honestly! Talking to you is USELESS!

And he slammed the door and stormed off upstairs mumbling something incoherant.

So he submits the assignment the following morning, and the results arrived today.

Best Marks Yet, I just want to say that again, BEST MARKS YET. The boy is stunning, ridiculous and stunning. The marking tutor wrote "a good assignment with a well presented and detailed take-off- well done!".

Just awesome, and totally worth telling the world about.

Or at least the 9 people who read this.

Totally blagging it, every single day.

Last week my boss told me to go away and put together a business case so that the powers that be will pay for me to do a masters in something possibly IT related, this week I had the following email conversation:

Lecturer:

Another Hectic day in MIS land i guess ..... Oh the life of a high powered MIS type consultant.
I was trying to sort out a few arty pictures of young lads for the older members of my teaching team who struggle to put a name to a face......
BUT as you already know the MIS rogues gallery is not live yet - hard to believe i know ....BUT TRUE !
Any idea how long i need to wait ?? Are you the right person to hassel ??
If not SORRY for bothering you with this small trivial issue.....enjoy another coffee and please keep the music and laughter down!

Me:

I am indeed incredibly busy with the rock and roll lifestyle we MIS consultants like to maintain but have taken a few precious moments out of my day to tell you that the rogues gallery IS live. I am lucky enough to be able to see all faces of the many learners this college have welcomed through the disinfectant, some photographs I was pleased to be exposed to, others not so much...
You will, I'm afraid, have to brave the IT helpdesk as if I can see it then there's something up with your machine, are the gerbils still running in the little wheels?
Would help if I could, I think it's a problem many of you poor, unappreciated and neglected teaching staff are suffering...

Lecturer:

Unfortunately one of the gerbils currently has bad feet ...... possibly as a result of too much exposure to disinfectant. He has been told to rest and that he may need two weeks off. As a result the remaining gerbil is doing his best but due to fatigue the wheels are spinning very slowly...... So i am off to the IT helpdesk again!
This time i am not going to leave until they have given me either a gerbil jump lead or a pair of brand new gerbils.....Unfortunately as you have spotted i am not the only lecturer with broken or underpower gerbils at the present.
Enough ..... your door is closed again today ........... enjoy the coffee morning!!

Eight Legged Freaks

Why is it that you can go months and months without seeing a single spider, and then, out of nowhere, there are spiders the size of dinner plates in your bath. There they are every morning, but you never get used to them, so every morning, and every evening, I walk into the bathroom, glance around and then THERE IT IS, bloated, hairy and sitting in my bath, or in the sink, or, as Glenn found once, attached to the towel hanging from the cabinet, oh the screaming.

So if it's evening, I can just shout for Glenn, like this; "GLENNGLENNGLENNGLENNFUCKINGSPIDERINTHEBATHGETITGETITGETIT!"

However, this morning, it was 5am and I didn't really want to wake him, so, bravely, I grabbed the shower head from the wall and blasted the hideous beast down the drain. I left the room to get something, I returned and HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK I watched it crawl back out of the drain. I had left the shower head in the bath though, oh stupid me, so I had to pick it back up from it's position directly next to the spider and blast said spider back down the drain, I left the shower on and stepped into the bath, I washed my hair and showered and I never took my eyes off the drain.

It's not fooling me twice, evil spawn.

Any idea's about how to get rid of them for good? Remembering that we're not in Australia so while it is true that these spiders pose no threat to my continued existence, neither can we call exterminator type bodies to kill them off.

Email to Oz

Hello gorgeous!

Glenn is scouting backpacks, he wants a backpack with wheels (I WONDER WHERE HE GOT THAT IDEA FROM??!!), and he's just bought a 6 man tent because we're off to a party next weekend that we have to camp for, I wanted to hire a VW camper but he decided, in that manly way, that we just needed a bigger tent. I think we need a bigger tent and some sort of bungalow but I have been outvoted. Maybe a six person tent will be better, cross your fingers...

Have I told you how much he loves the hat? I think I did but just in case, HE REALLY LOVES THE HAT, he was wearing it while he ate a curry and little bit splashed up onto the hat and I thought he was going to have a heart attack, the hat recovered nicely but I think he learnt a lesson in when it is appropriate to where the hat and when it is not; Australian outback? Yes... Birmingham curry house? No...

And you're all packed! How exciting! not long to go now, in fact there is 9 weeks until we leave the miserable old UK, I know because I have a count down in my diary, 9 weeks until Hong Kong, and Australia, and me dragging you to bridal shops and making you try on the most revolting dresses in the shop BECAUSE I CAN. At leat Ant is going to make it feel like a holiday again, and the weather sounds like it's hotting up! It's just getting colder here, shouldn't complain though, think of all the starving children in africa, they'd give anything for a bit of drizzle.

Yeah, we haven't booked anything yet, lots of time though, but we really should do it, it'll be November before we know it and if we miss the boat we'll be furious...

I have to go to the British Masters Golf Tournament at the Belfry on Saturday, Glenn got free tickets from work, they're supposed to be £139 each and I've been told I should be very excited but... It's fucking golf d'you know what I mean? Unless you can think of any hot golfers I can perve at while swigging the free champagne from the tournament sponsors (MOET!! YES!!) in inappropriate heels (and I think I want that entire last sentance on my tombstone please), then I'm stuffed. Just keep thinking about the champagne tent... and the Pimms tent... and the gin tent...

I'll get over the PM business, one day they'll see the light but as someone said to me while I was having a moan about it, if they pay peanuts then they'll get monkey's, so hopefully they employed some 19yr old for 15k and right about now they're crying softly and whispering my name...

I had my appraisal yesterday and I totally rock, the word my boss used was 'exemplary', so I am appreciated, I'm researching a masters that I want to do that they might pay for if I put together a business case and I have asked for a payrise, you don't ask you don't get!
I still have little surprise for you pair at home, got them all now, I just need to remember to POST THEM, you know what I'm like though, useless!!

Love and miss you, give a sloppy kiss to cousin IT for me.

Hxxxxxxxxxxxx

Something to celebrate

So.... My sister passed her driving test! Woo Hoo! And before anyone says "it's about bloody time", we're not going to look at the negative, we're going to emphasise the positive. She passed first time, with no minor faults, and she's the proud owner of a little fiesta, which she will now use to terrorise the nation.

She arrived at my house at about 9pm, in aforementioned fiesta, on the brink of tears:

Me: what's the matter?

Her: Oh my god, oh my god! The light's on the car don't work, I mean they work but they're not bright enough, they don't light anything up! I just drove here in the dark and I nearly pulled over on the dual carriageway because I couldn't see anything! Thought I was going to die, I nearly called you, oh god, I have to get home in that thing, bloody hell, I can't believe I've bought it and the light's don't work properly!

Me: The light's aren't bright enough.

Her: I just said that!

Me: How many turns did you make on the stalk when you turned them on?

Her: I DON'T KNOW!

Me: Because if it was just one, I think I know what the problem is...

And yes, she'd only got the sidelights on, but hey! We learnt something from his, we learnt that a person can pass their test with no knowledge of how to operate headlights.

We also learnt that we should avoid black fiesta's.

Some days you leave work having accomplished, and others you leave work having driven a 'colleague' to unemployment.

I’m working with a man who is new, who has no knowledge of the sector we work in, who arrives late and leaves early and is paid 15k more than me, this is not new information, I have been ranting about this for a couple of months now.

Today, after a long, long week at work, I am sat at my desk trying to fix something that does not want to be fixed. I am mumbling the message that the application keeps throwing at me under my breath to try and understand how to fix it, I am mumbling “L14 must be an integer…”.

New, inexperienced and overpaid man is standing next to me waiting for something to print, he is looking at the screen and listening to my mumbles, he taps me on the shoulder, he cocks his head to the side and, in a slow voice, as if he’s talking to his two year old, he says “an integer is a number”.

I look back at the screen, I look at new and overpaid man, I look back at the screen, I feel three months of frustration and resentment rise in my chest and I look back at him.

I shout “I KNOW WHAT A FUCKING INTEGER IS”.

I look back at the screen and say “The problem is that L14 IS an integer and I don't understand why the system can't see it, you patronising arse”.

New, inexperienced and overpaid man sits down, my boss leans over from his position at the end of the desk and says “she has an English degree, she knows what words mean.”

New, inexperienced and overpaid man resigns.

revenge

Some say happiness is the best revenge, others say it is finding out that a girl you hated for making your life miserable all through school recently married someone widely acknowledged to be a raving homosexual.

Conversation with my sister

Her: Oooooh, that jacket's nice

Me: Thank you!

Her: Where's it from?

Me: Florence

Her: And Fred?

Me: Really? really? Not Tesco, Italy...

Her: Oh, ha ha!

Me: Do you know about Italy? It's in Europe.. Do you remember about Europe? We're in Europe..

Her: Yes thank you!

Me: Just checking.