Going Off Alarming

Reality Check - Something Special

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 12:53:26 +0100

And so the law of Sod strikes again. It is year end for me in my job and the busiest most manic time in the calendar - hence my tardy recent posting.

The Good Lady Wife has a job that is flexible most times but at others totally and utterly immoveable. It happens to be one of those now. She has a job that has some security implications so I cannot blog the reasons why. It is not calendar dependent or seasonal like my job so cannot be predicted.

And so, the afore mentioned law of Sod strikes as 23 month old Dixie decides now is the best time to contract chicken pox. She has to be quarrantined at home for a week which means that due to the GLW's work situation, I have to take time off work.

The poor love is covered in red spots from neck to belly with hardly any white to be seen. The odd spot on her head and legs but it is primarily concentrated in her midrift.

As even those of you without children will understand, she is not pleasant to be around, getting frustrated at the constant itching and is very grumpy.

Now add to this equation that as JuliaHames has previously pointed out, Children are in fact, vermin. A harsh choice of word perhaps, but true in the correct sense in that they are disease carriers and spreaders. So therefore the whole family now has a virus of some sort. Sore throats, bad sinus, headaches type flu-y thing all round.

So here I was today, moaning my poor luck and generally pissed off with life as work goes nuts without me, and I am stuck at home feeling unwell and looking after a spot ridden grumpy, demanding and ungrateful 2 year old.

Woe is me.

But then after sitting through most of Milkshake on channel 5 I switch to BBC2 and come across "Something Special" - and my reality check starts.

It is a pre school kids programme with a massive difference. It is about mentally and physically disabled children. I assume it has the aim of "normalising" them to young children, IE to show that it is normal and not be freaked out when they see them in the street. It also teaches kids sign language.

But to see those kids unable to hold their heads up, and have eyes darting in all directions, unable to speak or communicate in any shape made me feel guilty as hell for moaning about having to use up leave at an important time of year to look after an otherwise 100% healthy child.

Bad luck? Woe? get a grip Dan....you have no idea what struggle is!

And clearly I don't. To say my perspective has been changed, would be an understatement.

Right, goota go. Have to dab poor Dixie in Calamine.

Dan

Comments

Grrrrrr!!!! Look - It's Quite Simple

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 18:15:48 +0100

Tea made with a tea bag in mug - MILK IN LAST
Tea Made in a pot, regardless of bags or leaves - MILK IN FIRST

That is all.

(Bloody busy at work with it 5 weeks to year end, so blogs exceptionally short and I will expand on this sometime soon)

Dan

Comments

The Neighbours New Car

Thu, 07 Feb 2008 17:25:02 +0100

As I work from home when not visiting, I see a lot of passing life out of my office window. 99/100 times this is mundane stuff...postman, gas man reading the meters, delivery men etc. Occasionally I see more interesting stuff like a new kitchen being installed and the tradesmen going in and out.

Today, my neighbour directly opposite has just taken delivery of a brand new Vauxhall Zafira.

They have 4 kids so it makes total sense to buy such a machine. And, the car is the best in it's class without a doubt.

But what has prompted me to blog this is my reaction. I found myself really pleased for them. I am actually watching them now playing with the new toy. Doors are open, kids are diving in and out of it, the boot/hatch keeps opening and closing and the dad is clearly as pleased as punch with is new purchase as he is standing just peering in.

The kids in particular have big beaming smiles. They had an old - but excpetionally reliable - Toyota Previa that no doubt had been to the moon and back. Now they can turn up at school and feel a little better tomorrow. Good luck to them.

I have just noticed that the dad had closed the doors and is going in. He bleeped the alarm, but had a telltale glance back over his shoulder before he shut the front door.

I have no idea why this has been so uplifing to watch them. It just has.

Comments

A Very Bad Day....but deliciously bloggable!

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 18:16:50 +0100

Sometimes you just have a bad day and have to accept it. Friday was that day.

It started actually on the stroke of midnight when Dixie decided that now was the right time to cut a new tooth. Much wall shaking screaming and a gallon of Calpol later and she was a little happier. But as I trudged back to bed, I snuggled down under the still warm duvet only for Pixie to regret eating the cheese before bed and start crying about having bad pictures in her head.

I honestly do not feed them LSD with their milk and biscuit, but her description of “bad pictures in her head” did rather take me back a few years to listening to rubbish music in a far away field in the middle of some Surrey or Sussex farm somewhere. Or maybe it was a disused warehouse on the Old Kent Road. I really can’t remember and that’s probably for the best.

But suffice to say she no longer trusted her own wardrobe not to come alive so into the marital bed she came with the deeply snoring GLW and me. At this point the traditionalists among you may well be asking why on earth the MAN of the house is doing these things? To cut an annoyingly long story short – Shift Work.

Now Pixie, like all 4 year olds have what can only be described in bed as a “spin cycle”. Honestly, it wriggles and kicks and moves like a demented dervish. Every time I dozed off, BOOT, I copped for one in the back. This carried on for much of the night.

(At this point I would like to nod to Ladee-Bird who has had a very similar experience blogged lately)

So bleary eyed at 6.30 I get up with Dixie leaving Pixie spread eagled in the bed. How can a small 4 year old take up so much room?

The mobile rings.

Very odd for my phone to ring THAT early. I recognise the number as my boss’s so I answer.

“Oh great, Dan you are awake”
“Err, yes, where's the fire?”
“Need a massive favour, can you get to Birmingham for 10?”

Mind awash with logistics, I say yes, but it will be tight and I will have to upset the Good Lady Wife.

“Good man”

I gulp. What have I agreed to? I was given no details of agenda, just casually told to check the blackberry and it will all be clear. Oh, that’s all right then.

So a hasty shower, tea made for the GLW, apologies for dumping her in it and I left. Pixie, by the way had now nudged the GLW so far across that her leg was on the ground.

I leave and almost immediatley hit traffic.

And lots of it.

M25 was a shambles. I am an everyday user of this road and know the hotspots every well. You know you are in trouble when you queue where you don't usually.

But the upside of the delay was that I was able to read the agenda. I had a look of horror – I had been set up. The meeting was to dump a long and loyal business partner. Great, thanks.

By 10 I was still only approaching the NEC when I should have been in Broad Street...

I finally arrive at 10.30 but can’t park at the building. So I park in the NCP and have to walk and it’s pissing down.

I turn up in reception, soaking wet, sign in, pop the pen in my pocket and meet the smiling man who is so happy to see me and I am about to blow a hole in his bottom line.

He does not take it well. I don’t blog work, but I have to share part of his tirade against me as it does rather hit a nerve that regular readers of my blog will understand.

“You come in here, drink my tea, steal my stationery chat up my staff and then you tell me I am no longer ‘part if your plans for the future’”

I had to admit, he had me spot on.

I did not finish my tea and left in a bit of a hurry. I get back to the car only to get a ticket on the windscreen. The pay and display ticket had obviously fallen on the floor of the car when I closed the door. Bastards. I argue the case only for a man with what can only be described as a best endeavours effort at the English language pointed me to a sign to write an address to complain to.

The phone rings. Boss again.

“Can you get to Oxford on your way home”

No “how did it go”, no “are you OK?”…just get to Oxford on your way back.

So we meet in one of our buildings and he casually tells me that all my accounts have “grown too large for our part of the company” and they are to be moved on.

Great. So all the work I have done building these up is swept away for someone to pick up and I have to start over. To be honest, this is the procedure, it’s just when it happens, it’s a pisser. Unless it’s a dog of an account then it is a boon.

So on seeing my short-term bonus take a walk, I decide not to head home and log on and clear mails.
I get a message from the GLW – “don’t forget the meal tonight”.

I rarely go out at the moment so a meal out is a big thing for both of us. It is a friend’s birthday and babysitters are sorted and the GLW has been excited about getting dressed up for ages.

I look at the watch and decide to leave with plenty if time in hand.

But yet again the traffic gets the better of me and this time the M40 has a lorry on it’s side and the traffic wombles decide to shut the whole road forever.

Finally I get going and actually, shockingly am moving at a real pace in the outside of the M25. I move from the middle lane to the outside crossing over what I thought was a cat’s eye. Only this cat’s eye did not pop down. BANG.

That did not sound too good.

I carry on for about another 100 yards and “BANG” my tyre bursts and I slide and wobble at 75MPH on the outside lane of the M25.

I manage to cruise into the hard shoulder and I come to a rather sad stop on the chevrons of the entry slip of junction 30/31…ladies that’s the Lakeside exit!

So with roaring traffic on both sides of me I call the fleet company and with the only bit of good luck I have all day the signal is strong and battery in tact.

He arrives in less than an hour and fits my embarrassingly small and ugly spare wheel and on I go with a maximum of 50MPH. (A quick note here: I am capable but I am not allowed to change the wheel.) I plod home with the most enormous "Norbert Dentressangle" and "Eddie Stobarts" flashing their lights and overtaking me. The shame of it.

I arrive home late and with the GLW looking a million dollars but foot tapping away, I then dive in the shower and get changed as quickly as only men can.

We take her car as I was too embarrassed to drive on my mongrel wheel and arrive only 20 minutes late. Fashionably late, I would say.

One good thing was that I was able to impart my day story, rather than talk kids all the time as someone with my current lack of social interaction has little of interest happen.

Thankfully as the clock struck midnight just as we returned home and Pixie and Dixe were fast asleep. Good old Grandma.

Not a peep until 6.30 Saturday Morning.

Bliss.

Dan

Comments

Saturday night is NOT Alright

Wed, 30 Jan 2008 16:08:27 +0100

“No, I am sorry but I do not want to stay a Saturday night”
“But, sir, it makes the trip £150 cheaper if you do”
“I realise you are doing your job, but please don’t ask me again, I do not want to stay a Saturday night”

You get the idea.

I *have* to go to a wedding in New York at the end of June. Yep, on the face of it this is all very glam and exciting. However, when you scrape the surface you realise that with two pre school children and plans to move house, spending £1500 on going to a wedding that does not need to be 4000 miles away is not the fun idea it should be.

I shall refrain from blogging about the wedding as it could easily get me in to trouble should someone stumble upon it. But suffice to say the idea of getting married in New York was a great one when it was just an idea but poorly thought out now it has turned into reality.

It is my best and oldest friend. Known since primary school and we have been through the lot together. He is marrying a great girl, mother of his fantastic one year old – to whom I am proud god parent. I will be his best man and had he got married n the moon, I would still have gone. And probably with less issues than I have with NY.

The problems started the moment he asked me last summer. The first decision was how many of us were going to go? 1, 2 or all 4? A quick decision was that Pixie and Dixie would not appreciate the delights of that great city so they are going to stay at home. But what about the GLW?

First it was – “Yes, we can spend some time together”
Then it was – “don’t want to leave the kids”
Followed by “I really want to go”
Then “can we afford both?”
Etc etc etc, and so this continued.

All the while we were waiting on the happy couple to get their finger out and actually book something. They did book the actual wedding and some other bits and bobs, like a restaurant and cars, but the small matter of flights and accommodation were a bit behind. They did promise that they would try for a package that we could buy into that never materialised and finally after much procrastination and decisions on Hotels, they announced “This is where we are going, sort yourselves out” Ok, maybe not as harsh as that, but in effect that’s how it was.

Originally this was because the airlines do not release flight until 300 days or so prior to departure. Fair enough. But then it dragged on to the end of Jan and only this week did we finally get a confirmed flight and hotel for them.

I was not going to book anything before they did. That would leave me open to all manner of possibilities.

So last night, the GLW and I had a long conversation about whether she would go or not. The old indecision came back again before finally getting the courage to leave the kids behind.

So on to the web to book.

Now, they get married on a Friday. So my plan was, so as not to take the proverbial out of the in laws looking after my children – to go on the Wednesday and fly back Saturday night for Sunday morning.

And then the trouble started.

If I flew Wed to Sun it was approx £400 with the big carriers. To move to a Sat night was £950!! And the cheekiest bit of all was the outbound changed as well as the inbound price!!

I “webbed” all the usual suspects and they all have the same thing: Premium for NOT staying on a Saturday. Dial a flight could do same hotel and flights £150 cheaper if I came back a day later…..how does that work????

Airmiles point blank refused.

To cut a very long story short, we settled on a decent deal with Expedia for BA and the Novotel for about £610 each. Which was £550 if I stayed another night.

I want to get back to see Pixie and Dixie. Pixie is 4 now and such great fun. Dixie is almost 2 and she is the one I am most worried about. Pixie we can talk to and she will understand. Plus, Grandma is great fun! Dixie will be a bit lost and wonder where we are I think.

Maybe I am being silly. I am sure she will be fine but the guilt won’t go – and it certainly would not allow me to save money and have a longer holiday to boot.

Dan

Comments

Dirty Dancing

Tue, 15 Jan 2008 12:57:10 +0100

As part of the GLW's Christmas present i bought tickets last summer for Dirty Dancing at the Aldwych Theatre (How about that for planning ahead?) I wrapped them up in a huge box with bricks in it so she would not have a scooby doo what was inside.

It is her most favourite film of all time ever, so it was an easy pressie to buy....plus I got to go to!

I love the theatre, we usually go once a year or so and I must admit we do pick out the more popular and commercial ones. Previous trips have been to see Joseph & Chitty Chitty bang Bang amongst others. You get the idea. Theatre snob I am not...or am i? As last night, I think perhaps I was - I noticed different things and many of them annoyed the beejeepers out of me.

It all actually started last summer when I bought the tickets. £60 each is a bit steep really, and when the theatres compain that they are half empty, it is hardly surprising. However, DD is full up until the summer now, so people are shelling out. But it does rather leave a sour taste when the credit card bill comes in. Yet people are paying £75 for the Spice Girls so I suppose in that context £60 is a bargain!

Anyhoos, we get there just before 7 and we are forced to queue in the rain. When eventually we are herded in there are no bars open and not even the doors to the bars are open so we have everyone packed in to the foyer like sardines and people from the back pushing through thinking we are just standing there for the hell of it.

The merchandise stall is there and plenty of people looking but not buying. On closer inspection I am not surprised. The price of the tee shirts, vests and assorted tat was outrageous. But again, I would not mind but the quality was appalling. I would not fancy the vest lasting more than 3 washes.

Finally the doors open to huge relief and I go and get a beer. £3.60 for a very small bottle (275ml, not even standard 330ml)of Carlsberg is hardly value. I don't mind a premium, but again it rather annoys me that you have this rampant profiteering.

So on to the theatre itself and how these things have not been knocked down and rebuilt is beyond me. Savagely cramped (and I am only 5'7) and not steep enough so you have to bob in opposite direction to the person in front, who is having to do exactly the same thing. The air conditioning was hardly sophisticated. Melting at one point and freezing the next. The decor is run down and the accoustics not that great. I am all for tradition, but really they all need massive investement to bring them into this century.

I noticed - naturally - that we had more of a cinema audience than a theatre one. Plenty of crisp bags and sweet wrapper rustling and a few shouts from the 80% female audience when Johnny took of his top (yes, I was a bit jealous I suppose) but the problem was someone always tried to be funny and that caused some ripples of laughter and it did seem to put off the actors...maybe that snobbish streak is coming through eh?

At half time, the queue for the womens toilets was immense. Stretching virtually the whole way around. I just find it baffling that in this day and age, these theatres have not sorted this perennial problem out. Made worse by the demographic last night of course. Some women not brave enough to go in the mens, missed the re start.

Anyway, what about the show itself? Two words:

ABSOLUTELY MAGNIFICENT

The actors were flawless, the staging immaculate, the story superbly re created for stage. The sound, the dancing the atmosphere, just breathtaking.

So, despite the price of tickets, the poor customer service, the over prices drinks, the shoddy merchandise, the run down theatre, the queuing, the toilets, the cramped seats and the whooping and hollering from the masses, it was just the most wonderful 2 hours.

And that is the thing. If you are rewarded with a play of such brilliant entertainment then you can forgive the peripheries.

And the GLW loved it 100 times more than I did and that is saying something.

Happy Christmas, C.

Dan

Comments

The 9 Rules Of Christmas - Important

Thu, 20 Dec 2007 17:07:08 +0100

I have been away a while. I went canoeing….Ha! not really, a mixture of work going nuts and Dixie deciding that now is the time to get new teeth, have a cold, growing pains and be a general pain. Sleep is for wimps at the moment. I have eyes like droopy.

Anyhoos, I wrote a blog in early September about how Christmas was in full swing in my local Tesco’s where two isles were then dedicated to Advent calendars, Xmas puddings and other assorted festive goodies. I thundered against it then and for good reason….I, with still 5 days to go am all Christmassed out.

I was a bit of a nerd this year and sorted the shopping out in November. I hid it all and forgot about it until today when I wrapped it all up. I then had to pop in to town for some work related things and finally it hit me – I am bored by Christmas.

Don’t get me wrong, with a 4 year old I am really loving the Santa bribes and the excitement she is generating. But I just got fed up with the rampant commercialism of Christmas – and this is from someone who errs on the right in his politics. Market forces and all that.

But I have been bombarded by email everyday for 6 weeks now with “latest ipods” and “Nintendo DS” emails amongst other crap. Every TV advert is about SPEND MONEY HERE and every TV programme has been about presents.

You just know that if you had the gall to delay Christmas by a month, it would save you 50% as the stuff you have bought will all be in the sale on Boxing Day. As an aside, is anyone brave enough to ask for their gift receipts and take the new shirt back, get the full refund, then re buy it at sale price and pocket the difference?

I’m not, but I wish I was.

I am not religious at all, but I do believe strongly in the family. Christmas should be about the family day. I find it really sad when families war over Christmas. Usually as someone is trying to please everyone and in doing so, end up pleasing no-one.

Parents have a really tough time, especially if both sets of in-laws are alive. Who do you spend the 25th with? Both sets want to see their grand children and I understand that, but the accusations of favouritism are inevitable despite the almost certain alternate years rule that most use. One of my friends has three sets as the step dad that brought him up with his biological mum for 15 years, then split up and remarried, also expects a visit. I feel for him as he cannot win.

So here in my humble opinion is how Christmas should be.

Rule number 1 –

No decorations, no big signs, no snowy adverts with Santa, and DEFINATLEY no Christmas music until 12 days prior – (with an extension for Slade that bans them until the 24th) So the “season” starts on the 13th.

Do your shopping as you wish, shops can show their gift sets, but no decs or tree or music until 12 days. You do not need the assorted extras to shop.

Rule 2 –

Xmas morning is a private affair for the immediate family only. So mum, dad and kids. Everyone else can swing. Presents should be material for the kids – whatever they wanted and personal for the wife/Husband/significant other. Something that is thoughtful, took time to think about and get. Price should be unimportant. Oh, and that thing she has been dropping hints for in the past 6 months would help too.

Rule 3 –

Make it clear in the run up who is being seen on which day. No arguments, no debate and do not fall for the emotional blackmail.

Rule 4 –

Dinner should be with who you want to be there. Extended family is great, as many as you can cook for and physically fit in. Bigger the better.

Rule 5 –

NO TELLY. Sky plus what you need to, but switch the box OFF.

Rule 6 –

Leave the kids to play with their new toys. Don’t drag them here and there when all they want to do is play.

Rule 7 –

Boxing Day is for football (or Horse racing/rugby if that is your bag). Don’t try and buck that. Ever.

Rule 8 –

Go back to work on 27th. If you don’t Xmas will seem too long and you will argue with the family. It will be quiet anyway, so don’t use up your leave (unless you are in one of those offices that force you to).

Rule 9 –

Enjoy it. Don’t see it as a chore.

Happy Christmas all.

Dan

Comments

Am I right...or just tight?

Wed, 28 Nov 2007 15:39:49 +0100

I am working from home today so I have to make my own tea for once. Just now, I had a scolding hot cuppa and so biscuits primed for dunking. Two digestives and three rich tea - which a friend of mine referrs to as "Prison Biscuits" as he tells me that is all you get inside - shame.

Anyway, as always I digress...

So I dunk my first rich tea and I hang on for a few seconds more than you should as I must admit I do favour a bit of brinkmanship when it comes to the dunk. I enjoy the soggy tea soaked state it comes out in and find the delicate flapping of the biscuit onto my tongue quite delicious. Peter Kay famously does a routine where he calls rich tea "one dips" ("get the spooooooooooooooooon") as he prefers to go for the brick like Hobnob and sees the rich tea as the scardey cat of buscuits. But me, no. I enjoy the gamble that is the rich tea.

Plonk.

In in drops to my tea. I desperatly try and save it with my first grab, burn my fingers and the biscuit breaks up. I lose.

So I choose a digestive and do the same, but this time through no fault of my own but a design fault in said biscuit, after just two dunks...

Plonk

Clearly a crack in the biscuit has caused this as digestives are good for at a bare minumum three, maybe as many as six dunks. Now faced with soggy tea, I decide to make a new one.

It is at this point I start thinking about the cost as I pour it away down the sink with various beige dregs gloopilly faling over the edge of the cup.

So a cup of tea at home I worked out to cost a fraction above 1p. My mind then flicked back to yesterday where I was charged 40P in the canteen of one of our offices and £1.80 at Watford gap services.

I am of course prepared to accept that they have overheads and I have no issue with making a profit. But bugger me, the profit on a tea is quite something isn't it?! Especially as at the services it came in a poxy pot that I did not want and had the wonky lid that they all come with so half of it misses the cup and goes over the table. Then you have crappy UHT mini cartons of milk and a wooden twig that is supposed to be a stirrer......all for £1.80????

Don't get me started on hotel tea either. That comes in a tiny thimble and charge the price of a three bed Semi in Dulwich.

Even 40P at the office in a supposed "subsidised" canteen is a bit rich, but you do get a sensible poly cup and proper milk plus if you are stationed there they have no issue with you bringing your own mug - however big - and filling it for same 40p.

So my point is, what is "fair" for a cup of tea? Bearing in mind the 1p I worked out was for me buying Tetley on BOGOF plus my share of the milk and hot water, and the big companies can buy in mahooosive quantity at a fraction of retail - I reckon their gross cost of a tea is no more than a third of a penny. Including the cup, pot, milk, hot water, heating, lighting, cleaning and wages spread over the business.

I have made a decision and I am no longer going to pay more than 50P for a tea. I don't mind a mark up, but when you consider it, there is a mark up and a rip off.

Tea falls firmly in to the latter category.

so, as the headline says...and I right, or just tight?

Comments

The Doctors Surgery

Fri, 16 Nov 2007 13:02:33 +0100

I had to visit for a blood test today. Nothing dramatic just an alergy thing.

But the nurse was running late and I ended up sitting there for 45 minutes and quickly got bored of the out of date home and garden magazines. So I ended up analysing the people in the surgery who had come to see the doctor and were going in and out at regular intervals while I waited for nurse Debbie to arrive.

So first up a very large lady who struggled to her feet when called. She looked around and said "oh, it's my knees...I hope Dr West can help me"

Now, I am no doctor. But I think I could quite eaisly diagnose this problem and present a solution.

"look love, you are overweight by a considerable margin. Now that is your business, but your knees hurt because you are carrying too much weight"

"if you want to be overweight, fine. I have no issue with that, but do not come to me asking for help with your knees as that is one of the prices you pay for your over indulgence Now stop being a drain on NHS resources and eat a bit less and walk to the shops"

Second up was clearly an unwell child who was coughing horribly. Bless him.

Third we had the block who sat next to me. He STANK of smoke...absolutley reeked of it. And whn he spoke he had one of those gruffly, phlegmy unable to finish my words propery voices that make you heave to listen to it. He gave me no clue as to his visit to Dr West, but my assumption was "i have this really bad chest Doc"

"really? you surprise me...you look like you look after yourself so well too"

Fourth was an old lady who looked like she was heading for the departure lounge...if you know what I mean.

Fifth was another child, baby this time and I am pretty sure she was suffering what can only be described as "PPS"...Panicky Parent Syndrome.

I am an expert in this as with Pixie, I think I invented it. Every sniffle it was Pneoumonia..., every time she coughed it was Whooping Cough...no really...every time she cried for more than an hour it was death just around the corner.

Yet the diagnosis was easy. Have another child and get over it. Dixie has been to see the doc once in 20 months. Pixie went weekly until Dixie was born.

And so to my turn. I strode in to the Nurses room confidently and then turned into a gibbering wreck as, coward that I am was faced with the needle.

But, such a brave boy I was I managed not to faint.

maybe I am just allergic to needles.

Dan

Comments

A Human Cash Machine!

Mon, 12 Nov 2007 12:53:15 +0100

It has been a bad few weeks in the R household. Yet again the dreaded virus has spread across the 4 of of us. House full of coughing and sneezing people is not a pleasant place. I am currently under the doctor on a very expensive set of perscriptions for somethig additional(I have no been to the Doc in over 5 years and was shocked at the price of it all) but nothing to blog there.

However, Dixie has taken on a new role. Apart from being entertainment manager of the house (impressive at 19 months) she can now actually crap money.

Yes, you did read that rather vulgar phrase correctly.

I will spare you details, but suffice to say after three days of only wet nappies, she was becomimg rather grumpy. Then after another bout of butt clenching and screaming the GLW then forced her on to a potty and low and behold the potty was filled with what can only be described as "muddied coins". The fell out like one of the "shove 2p" machines at the seaside.

The shock of seeing cash in a potty was quite something. I did think for a moment that we cut her open and take the gold like the fable says, but they ended up killing the goose and that was a price too high.

I joke, but the seriousness of it was quite real really. The fact that she had ingested these coins safely was a stroke of luck. Only took on going the wrong way down and - well - does not bear thinking to be honest.

So Pixie's piggy banks are now on high. My coinage is safely put in a bottle to save up for my Aston Martin (should only take 20,000 years) and the GLW only steals my money and anything left gets spent on a variery of tat we do not need. So no issue of her ever having money left over.

I am not sure it is over yet either as we had a pretty bad night with her last night and as a consequence I have no energy for work and have diverted to blog.

Maybe she can start producing notes. It wont hurt anywhere near as much and I would not have to worry about doing my forecast and last weeks report that I am currently procrastinating over.

Actually my forecast is easy - Fk All. Reason: Plan to be lazy and cancel visits, blaming customer for cancelling me.

On second thoughts - bad idea.

Better get to work.

Laters all.

Comments

danger Ladies Wot Lunch and Three year old Backhands.

Thu, 01 Nov 2007 17:13:20 +0100

I have had a week off work and as I have been doing cool things instead of visiting customers in godforsaken industrial parks on the outskirts of nowhere and stealing tea, pens and bandwidth.

On Monday I took Pixie to her tennis lesson. Not really a tennis lesson at all, more a case of organised chaos with a bunch of pre schoolers determined to get a black eye from a wild backhand at some point. But it is great to watch.

Anyhoos, I leave Pixie in the capable hands of "Lee" the impossibly fit and toung tennis coach who all the mums seem to have a little crush on. Well, he is not my type so I went to get a coffee.

It it one set of stairs and about a 15 yard walk to the bar. I have never had to avoid crashes as much ever - even driving around the Arc de Triomphe in Paris!

Obviously there are no cars in this place, but it is all middle aged women on their mobile phones texting as they walk. They are out of control. Not one was looking where they were going, all were just hovering their thumb over the keypads as the walked.

"'scuse me"
"eh? whaaa?..oh sorry"

There were at least 6 of these in the few yards. Why do they walk and text? It is damn dangerous...could have had my eye out!

So after negoitiating the route back to the courts I sait amongst the yummy mummies all glued to their phones. Not one spoke a word. Not one looked up from their screen, except to see how their darling boy was doing occasionally.

They missed a treat. It is hilarious watching 3 & 4 year olds battle to hit a ball or a balloon while the "sumptious" Lee tries to keep order.

It all broke up after a while and the children trudged out red faced and gasping for water. The women meanwhile made a bee line for "Lee".

"what tennis requet is best for Miles"
"what should Daisy wear to help her"

These daft questions were all about getting Lee's attention. It was the only thing that kept them away from their phones.

Me jealous?

well maybe a tad...

Comments

37 Today! Happy Birthday To Me!

Mon, 22 Oct 2007 10:19:10 +0200

Yep, my name does not lie...DanR2210...2210 being today and hence my birthday.

So what?

So nothing.

This morning the GLW was on early turn at work so was gone before 5, so it was down to me to round up Pixie and Dixie to nursery. No real alarms as such so perhaps they did realise it was my birthday and made life easy.

And now I am at work. Well, at home at work as I deliberatley made no appointments today and will spend the day chasing orers and doing reports. Or blogging.

Just another ordinary day and to be honest, twas ever thus.

When growing up, no real fuss was made of my birthday. Yes I was treated well in the present department, I vividly remember bikes and things but no real extra special stuff. Just an ordinary day with presents and cards. Over in a flash. It did not help being the youngest of three with a 5 year gap either as clearly mum and dad were fatigued by it all having gone through it twice and seemingly thought it was over! Mistakes will happen eh?

So when I started to go out with girs properly, it shocked me to see what they had on their birthdays. Real attention, you know big family dinners, banners flags and lots of little niknak prezzies as well as the biggie. It lasted the full day to, from special breakfast to late posh chocolate in front of the new DVD - or video as in my case as I am a bit old now. Summer birthdays was always a big BBQ party.

The GLW is the same, birthdays are BIG in her household and you are expected the day off work and spend it together which I think is realy nice.

My family can barely get the cards to each other on time - parents excepted. My sister being utterly appalling and will always bring a dog eared envelope to me sometime in November. It will have an address and stamp on it, but that final part of actually posting it seems to elude her.

So here I am in an empty house with 3 cards waiting downstairs. The postie is due soon and I doubt she will need a larger sack, yet with the strikes at least it provides a wonderful excuse to my sister.

But the day should get better. The GLW will finish at 2 so we will go and have a late lunch together then get Pixie and Dixie where 4 year old Pixie will make me a cake and I will open cards and prezzies then.

Happy birthday Dan.

Comments

Watch out - Pen Thief Alert!

Fri, 19 Oct 2007 15:35:36 +0200

Maybe I should plead the 5th here but I feel it is time for some honesty. I have finally been busted on one of my terrible habits and so as a kind of confessional, I thought I would own up formally.

Y'see, I am a pen thief. Now don't get me wrong, I do not steal Mont Blanc and other flashy brands. Not my style. But the simple truth is I NEVER have a pen to hand. Ever. So when in need of one, I will see one on a desk and "borrow" it without asking and in truth, with no damn intention of handing it back. I have been getting away with it for years and years.

I often have pilfered a pen only to hear 5 minutes later from an adjacent desk "where is my pen?" and to compound things, they would ask me if i had seen it.

"nah, sorry mate" as I slid the pen below desk level.

Now in the days of stationary cupboards this was an issue. You could never get past the gatekeeper of the key who was usually either a secretary or a clerical assistant which an inflated sense of importance.

"err, can I have a new pen please"
"what do you want it for"
"err, why do you think"
"where is your one"
"lost it"
"well find it"
"look, i need a pen, there are at least 10,000 in there so gimme the key"
"ok, but don't take any post it notes or selotape"

Now I work from home when not visiting customers so my habit has got worse. I walk in to an office and any unguarded desk will see the logo'ed pen into my bag in a flash. I will re-iterate that I only steal essentailly "free" pens. Like advertising ones, or company ones.

For example, if I clear out my bag now I will have pens from Nortel, BT, Met Police, Littlewoods, Bexley community partnership, Shell, Citibank, Wembley Stadium, Marriot Hotels and HSBC. I have lods of others, but I listed those from companies you will have heard of.

So as I have tens of pens in my bag, why do I steal them? Well as explained earlier it is because I need one "NOW"!! and will not ferritt around in the bag for one. So if there is one laying on a desk, it will do. So why do I not give it back...err, well that I can't answer.

Maybe this pen kleptomania shows some symptoms of a deep psycological issue. Or maybe, I am just a common thief.

I am a nightmare at a trade show. Recently at the NEC I just trawled all the stands for giveaway pens. Thanks CRM TEchnologies whoever you are! But I do draw the line at Argos. I do put those back.

So if work in an office and ever you wondered where your pen went and it went missing about the same time as that dodgy looking account manager came in, then email me and I will send it back.

But the reason I bring this up today is twofold. I was at a seminar this week where some jumped up bint was talking about "your personal brand". Part of this was what pen you use and how you are perceived when using it. Needless to say this hit rather a raw nerve with me as I have spent exactly zero on pens my entire life.

But secondly at a customer this morning I used a pen with their logo on it to sign in. The receptionist recognised it as the one that went missing about the time of my last visit.

Despite my protestations that I had just picked it up, she was having none of it.

"i suppose a tea is out of the question then"
"milk no sugar?"

Ahhh...I've still got it!

Dan

Comments

Taps...taps taps flippin' taps

Wed, 10 Oct 2007 21:25:00 +0200

OK, I agree not the most exciting of headlines and perhaps not the most interesting blog I have ever written, but something really is starting to bug me.

Taps.

Yes, taps. Not taps per se, but the inconsistency of taps. Let me elaborate...

This morning i was getting Pixie and Dixie ready for nursery and the natural chaos that ensues. Dixie has now learned how much fun it is to take of velcro strapped trainiers and then socks, and Pixie will not even contemplate getting dressed until Horrid Henry has finished. Time was getting on and I had to be in a meeting on the other side of the M25 in two hours.

I just thought I had enough time to pay a quick visit to the toilet while the credits of Horrid Henry rolled and Dixie was waiting by the door - ("door - door....car, car, cat..dog...etc"). What i did not factor in was the washing of hands. I put on the hot tap and waited as it poured cold. And waited, and waited and then finally it dribbled to a stop. Then I opened the tap a little more only for the most insipid lukewarm water to come out. Now during all this, Dixe had again undone her shoes and socks and the second horrid henry had begun. War broke out as I man handled them into the car, one sockless and one shouting "I want to see Horrid Henry and the Injection". Happy days.

Anyhoos. I manage to get to the meeting on time (south side of M25 luckily, north was closed for 8 hours today) and after consuming vast buckets of tea in the meeting I visit the toilet again. This time, on washing hands the water comes out at 300MPH and I have that classic embarrassment of the splash on the front of the suit trousers. So there I was under the hand drier pointing it at my nether regions, when in walks the guy I had the meeting with.

"bloody taps, too fast!"
"yeah, alright, I believe you"

Not sure whether he will sign the contract.

Finally, back to HQ and I have my final visit to the toilet and this time the taps are quick but at a decent flow, so I put my hands underneath only to find the the temperature is provided at thermo nuclear levels. Such is the heat, I am sure you could make tea straight from the tap. My hands turn red and I am sure the skin started to peel.

As I leave I notice a sign on the mirror "caution, water temperatures supplied at high level" - which begs the question...why? and another was, why not on the mirror that I was using.

So there you have it. A day terrorised by taps.

Dan

Comments

Back Back Back!!!

Wed, 03 Oct 2007 13:03:01 +0200

Problem solved thanks to BT. Won't bore you all, but basically it was a slow connection but was OK for UK based sites but those based abroad had issues for my connection. All sorted now and the site is whizzing along.

So since my last brief and very grumpy blog entry, "Pixie" my nearly 4 year old has turned 4. My word did she understand what birthdays were all about this time around. The last three have sort of bewildered her, but this time is was a full onslaught to the prezzies. Not pausing to look at what was actually inside as she tossed it aside and went on to the next prezzie eagerly. Great fun to watch.

Meanwhile 18 month old "Dixie" was picking up the prezzies and running off with them - for a laugh. Annoying the bejeepers out of Pixie - which was also funny.

All in all, things are cool here.

So we had a little tea party for Pixie and both sets of grand parents came over. I really like my In-Laws and I am lucky in that respect as none of my friends get on with theirs.

But they have one quirk that drives me insane. They get ready to leave, get packed up get towards the door and then start a new conversation and we end up hanging by the door for 20 mins. Then we get outside and they start another, so we are now by the cars for another 15 while simultaneously chasing Dixie around the Close and stoping her from running away.

They do this EVERY time. In their house when we visit too. I am just about opening the door and Father In Law will say "oh, just got to show you these pics on the PC" so polite boy that I am, I stand in his study for half an hour looking at various pics and calming the now frustrated Pixie and Dixie.

A minor complaint in the scheme of things as they are really nice, helpful, non interfereing people...and that is rare thing for In Laws.

But it drives me nuts.

Anyway - glad to be back blogging and catching up on a few people.

Comments

Nuts To All This

Mon, 24 Sep 2007 14:08:36 +0200

I have not been blogging recently, not out of choice but because this website is doing my brain in.

It is as slow as a tracle covered slug and nothing is where it should be anymore. I log on and wait and wait and wait, then think, nuts to it life is too short to wait for this.

I am no luddite, but these changes have messed up the site and i can't get on with it. At all.

So for the time being I shall still read everyone elses if i can, but I am not going to wait around and get annoyed trying to do my own.

Signing off for now -

grumpy arse.

Comments

So This Is Christmas?

Tue, 11 Sep 2007 12:02:32 +0200

Tesco's - Monday 10th September.

I hate going grocery shopping. Just mindlessly wandering the isles filling your basket with essentials and then over doing it on non essentials just because they are 2for1.

In truth, I go with my list (not usually a anal person, but I have to for Tesco's) and i damn well stick to it. However the GLW will pop out for emergency milk and come back with 8 bags of what can oinly be described as "stuff".

Anyway, I digress.

I was drawn to the seasonal isle. I was drawn to it in a sad way as another reminder that summer was gone and awful autumn was drawing in with the early dark days and dirty leaves ridden streets.

When I saw what was in the seasonal isle, my sadness turned to anger.

Advent calendars, Christmas biscuit boxes, tinsel, decorations and other assorted Santa branded tat.

Let me remind you again. It was September 10.

Between now and Dec 25, we have Halloween and Fireworks night - yet they are not even registering yet - but Xmas is well and truly in swing in Tesco's West Kent. I half expected Jingle Bells to be playing on the tannoy and the staff in santa hats.

Is it too much to ask that christmas be confined to just the 12 days? If you want to shop for prezzies for buget or convenience purposes, I understand that. The stuff is the same whther you buy it in July or Xmas eve, but without the razzamatazz. Or Queues.

But does anyone need to buy an advent calendar in September? 90 days before the first one is due to be opened?

Or is this another wheeze from Cadburys where advent calendars now start on september 1???

Please - everyone just stop this nonsense. We have yet to lose the hour off the day and you can buy christmas crackers.

It ain't right.

Dan

Comments

It's Always The Quiet Ones - the Porn Library

Wed, 05 Sep 2007 10:37:51 +0200

We never truly know peope at work do we? We think we do as we spend quite a bit of time with them, we chat about "stuff" find out a bit about their family, we see them under pressure and rather like Big Brother, you can put on an act for a while, but your real personality always comes out.

My dad has a saying that you do not know anyone until you have lived with or been on holiday with someone. I think he has a point.

So there is a guy at work I have known for about 5 years. We speak every day and meet at least once a fortnight. We have had a few "overnighters" and some long sessions in the hotel bar has ensued. I class him as a friend even though we have never met outside of the work environment.

That changed this weekend when he invited me over his way for a beer as his wife was away with her work. I took him up on it, we went out had a decent time and then he asked if I wanted a nightcap back at his place. So I did.

He got me a beer and said "so what shall we watch then?" at which point he opened up a huge swing DVD cabinet and inside was hundreds of DVD's. Nothing odd there until I started to look at them:

100% porn. Every single one of them and there must have been 300+! I swear, no exaggeration.

But most were not ordinary porn, they were all manner of stuff including gay, BDSM, extreme, midget - Row upon row of hardcore.

"you like your porn then?" I said jokingly.
"yeh, me and the wife - it's all we watch"

Now, I have to admit to a pang of jealousy at that point as like most people (men) I enjoy a bit of porn occasionally, but the GLW will have none of it.

"do you have the life of brian in there at all" I said with sarcasm
"no, but we do have a film with a python involved - fancy that one?"
"err, no"
"yeah, let me see if I can sort out a tame one for you" Which I found mildly patronising, but I let it pass.

I finished my beer and said I had to go. Not because I was embarrassed but if I do watch porn, it is on my own and not with another man! Plus, as fascinated and intrigued as I am by the dark side of sex, I am a bit straight in my own life really. (note - not too much information now, Dan!)

So yesterday I pondered if my view on him had changed. Well it hadn't. I have a rule of my own which is that you are into what you are into and it is not for me to judge. But it did shock me at his openness. I see this guy a lot and never did I think he would have a vast libary of porn, which clearly included diverse porn. This is a a guy who never mentioned sex at work - even when doing the fantasitcally childish "would ya?" game when talking about female colleagues.

But there he is every night with his wife watching "shaving Ryan's Privates" - complete with a picture of a woman with what looked like a Gillette Mach 3 razor - I did smirk at when I saw it on his shelf. I think I saw "Star Whores" too.

fair play to him - I may even ask to borrow a few one day.

The tame ones though.

Dan

Comments

Gat(gets on my)Wick Airport

Thu, 30 Aug 2007 16:00:59 +0200

I used to love flying. The whole process I enjoyed. Everyone seemed to be in Holiday mode, people smiled and did not mind the queing too much and the bit that I loved the most was the TRAVOLATOR!! Where else do you get moving floors that walk for you?? Brilliant. I so looked forward to walking backwards on it - never not funny!

I have flown to Scotland on business a couple of times recently and it has been a bit of a pain, but I travelled alone so I did not really notice too much.

However, this time Gatwick airport was a hell hole. Savagly over crowded, miserable people bumping into you and just sniffing instead of apologising, the queues were interminable and the staff were just plain rude.

It started in the approach. Now you are not allowed to be dropped off at the front of the airport and have to go via the old coach park. Not in itself an issue except there is no space and no trolleys and it is two floors from the desks.

So into the overcrowded hall, where to be fair BA do a half decent job. I am pre checked in so it is just a bag drop in a fast moving queue. And the girl at the desk was pleasant.

Then security and I am in the hands of BAA. The queue was halfway round the departure desks. Then nobody had properly read the signs and were throwing tonnes of stuff away (separate issue here about the absolute stupidity and over reaction and rigid enforcement of this policy).

The staff are just so rude. I saw the way they spoke to people naturally unhappy about throwing away sealed bottles of water and juice and it was like prision officers speaking to inmates.

The GLW was selected for extra bag screening and the woman rummaged around in the bag, tossed things out and then shoved them all back in crushing the kids sandwiches in the process and cracking some DVD boxes. Apology? No. So I ask for one and get nothing but a blank stare and off she walks to antagonise the next customer - and yes we are CUSTOMERS!

So Finally I think I am through when I am hit with a new queue of shoe screening. No signs to warn you, nothing. I have an armful of bags and children and I am frantically tring to get my shoes off while not dropping Dixie and simultaneously taking hers off and trying not to hold up other disgrntled customers, I momentarily lose it.

"OH FOR FKS SAKE" I yell.

To which the woman looking at the shoe screening TV agressivley says "got a problem?"

No "sir" or, politeness at all. Infact it reminded me of when I was ateenager and blokes who thought they were hard would try and pick fights by using that phrase.

"not with you, no. Not your fault all this is it?" I respond. Clearly up for a row, the woman then said something along the lines of "it is for your safety and if you don't like it don't travel". Possibly the most patronising comment I have ever recieved.

Astonishing.

I was about to give her the full barrels treatment when the GLW hurried me away.

This theme of poor service repeated itself within the airport with all "officials". No grace, no personality just raw agression.

I hated every moment of it and could not wait to board.

Not going to debate the security side of things here, but it does not need to be so unpleasant. It has got to the stage where I really want to avoid airports at all costs as the process does not make it worthwhile travelling anywhere nice.

So I am holidaying in Hastings next year.

Dan

Comments

That Madeline McCann Moment

Tue, 28 Aug 2007 13:53:37 +0200

I cannot ever pretend to know fully how the McCann’s feel, but what I can say is that I had the smallest taste of it on holiday and it shook me to my very core.

For blog purposes, my two daughters will now henceforth be knows as Pixie and Dixie. Pixie being 3 (“nearly 4 dad”) and Dixie being 16 months.

It was our last day, we were clearing out the apartment and as it was ground floor we had opened both back and front doors. Dixie was happily playing with the plug sockets, I was brushing my teeth, the GLW was sitting on the case trying to squeeze the last piece of tat bought randomly from the market into the straining case. Also with us was the GLW’s mum who was busy doing much the same as her daughter.

I shouted to Pixie that it was time for her to brush her teeth. As all kids that age, she said no and run into the courtyard garden, at which time I was certain I heard the door bang.

I asked the GLW to get her for me while I set the Disney toothbrush up and get a chair in to the bathroom so she is able to watch herself. It had worked throughout the break to such an extent that she actually had white teeth for a week.

“Dan – is she with you?”
“no, I think she went into the courtyard”
“well, she is not here”
“She is not with me, or in the bedroom”

We both shouted for her – no response. So we looked outside and there was no sign.

Our apartment block was in a long line so we were able to see all the way down the path. No sign.

Mild concern at this stage, but she knows where everything was so we assumed she had gained confidence and taken herself off to the small swing park or the pool.

I checked the park which was literally 10 yards away– empty.

So I came back and me and the GLW spilt up and went the two ways down to the pools. I say two, but each splits at the end so there are actually 4 routes down.

The GLW and I both met at the gate at the bottom – nothing.
I continued to look in the gardens and other routes while the GLW went back to double check the apartment.

At this stage I was still only mildly worried as my logical side was still in control and I just assumed the we went one way while she was on the other path.

When the GLW and I met at the gate again and we realised neither of us had her, fear really set in. It was now about 15 minutes and the GLW burst into tears. I said something reassuring like “don’t panic, she is about” but secretly I too was starting to panic.

The GLW went off to reception and to be fair they got on the radios straight away. Being the “big changeover day” the swipe card barrier was up, and they closed it for us. I started to enlist the people around the pool to start a search. They did not need encouraging. They could sense the fear and panic rising prior to me asking. They could see me checking the bottom of the pool like a demented idiot and realised I was not looking for just some jewellery that had slipped off when swimming.

Full description issued and people started to wander about looking under cars and in drains and onto roofs. Real panic set in as the realisation hit me of what I was asking people to do. I began to consider what picture I should use and at what stage do we officially declare her “missing” all call in the local police?

I started to return to the apartment when I heard the GLW scream echoing through the complex “It’s OK she is here”

The relief was instant. I then saw her running towards me and I picked her up, unsure whether to issue the biggest bollocking of her short life or just hold her tightly. I did the latter. With a few tears welling I gently said “never do that again”.

I returned to the pool and thanked everyone and they too shared my relief.

So where was she?

Well, she has this thing where she hides. But she is rubbish at it. She thinks that covering her head means that she cannot be seen and also the moment I say “where are you” she giggles.

But this time she had got behind the armchair and not giggled. Then when the GLW did her full sweep of the apartment, she had gone out the back way and was playing with the fountains while I was out front.

The GLW’s mum who was looking after Dixie while we were searching was in the courtyard and looking out front while Pixie went out back.

As I said a the start, I cannot pretend to know how the McCann’s feel – and ignore the rights, wrongs and rumours of what surrounds the case – the fact is that after 100+ days, Maddie is still missing. I only had about 20 minutes in total and that was the worst 20 minutes of my life.

Dan

Comments

Ok - Panic Is Starting To Set In

Tue, 14 Aug 2007 16:37:54 +0200

It is Tuesday now, T minus 4 days. And I do mean "T" as well because we are flying off to Spain on Saturday.

I am not afraid of flying in the slightest. I do not bat an eyelid. I am more nervous driving on the M25 each day. So why the PANIC?

I am taking my youngest daughter who is 16months old. She has the capacity to sit still of a dog that has just seen it's owner return after a days at work. She is a bit of a brute - she has a boy's mind trapped in a female head.

I am one of those people that would roll their eyes when I saw in the airport queue a toddler and baby and I would just KNOW they would be next to me. I also felt the awkwardness that the parents felt.

Now that is me.

I just know she is going to want to run around, I know that she will fight me to move when she is on my lap when the plane is taking off. And when she does not get her way, she will scream the place down.

In contrast her 3 year old sister ("nearly 4 dad") will be an angel and her only annoyance will be asking questions that I can't answer like; "how does the plane stay up" "why don't clouds fall to the ground" "why is that lady fat?"

The 16 month old is so gorgeous and gives such a lovely smile, but she wants what she wants and failure to deliver means only one thing - the scream.

The confines of a plane for the best part of 3 hours is going to be a tough one.

Is Choloroform legal?

Comments

Boot Fairs - Voyage of the dull

Sun, 12 Aug 2007 12:34:58 +0200

Is there really anything more pointless than a boot fair?

I had the misfortune to *have* to visit this morning as the GLW and her mum decided that a great way to get rid of our and their junk was to get up at stupid o'clock, load the car with said junk and drive to a nearby field and allow people to browse and offer 5p for the lot.

Look, I have no issue with ebay addicts, although in truth ebay is no more than an e-bootfair.

But bootfairs? Why are they so damn popular? I mean, I took the kids there this morning and all there was were rows and rows of cars selling old video tapes of workouts by women who were famous 15 years ago, stuff that would only ever be seen on great grandparents sideboards (no, not antique, just tat), well thumbed books and kids toys - usualy broken.

The mum in law was hilariously trying to sell two of the oldest suitcases in the world - I mean who on earth would buy them?

Now, I am aware that there are some sneaky dealers who prowl bootfairs and pick up a Ming vase for 50p from an unsuspecting vendor and go on to sell it for the price of a detatched house in Mayfair.

But this was like house clearances in one place. A feast of old trash to buy and sell full of people with nothing better to do than look at what other people have in their loft.

And yet, the GLW has just called and told me she is packing up and has made a profit of £80.

Just goes to prove that I really do know nothing. People really do want to buy old crap.

And the suitcases sold for 50p

Dan

Comments

I am in serious trouble

Mon, 06 Aug 2007 13:51:37 +0200

Not so long ago Abi wrote a blog about a typo and how it totally meant her email was miss interpreted (apologies for no link)

well, I have just sent the GLW a text message that was meant to end "see you later".

However, I have an old mobile phone and the keys sometimes stick so what actually was sent was "see you kates"

I got a text back saying "who's kate?"

*gulp*

Comments

Cheat Cheat Cheat!

Thu, 02 Aug 2007 16:23:54 +0200

I feel a bit of a fraud today. The whole of the team is running around like maniacs getting sunk out with emails and not being able to keep on top of it all, and I have managed to get level with all my work.

Now, without boring you, my job should be proactive, but never is. I should go and make things happen, but 99% of the time I react to things that have happened. But today, as it is quiet, I should be making calls and contacts to keep business flowing, but instead I have lazed about reading various blogs and watched a couple of episodes of Family Guy that were on sky plus.

When I get a call from a colleague and they complain about how busy they are, I just agree and say "yeah, it's a bit of a nightmare at the moment" when in reality the toughest thing I have done all day is press pause.

This will catch up with me soon.

I do feel guilty.

I really should call someone

I really could help my colleagues out by doing some of their quotes or contracts.

but fk it, I am going to dig out a Sienfeld DVD while the house is empty.

Dan

Comments

Your Kids - The Embarrassment Factor

Thu, 26 Jul 2007 08:34:20 +0200

I have quite a low embarrassment tolerance. I can go red quicker than a set of traffic lights when I am hurtling towards them in an emergency dash.

So how did I feel when at the weekend while queueing to pay for my parking my 3 year old plunged me so deeply in it, that you could actually fry eggs on my face?

There we were in line and at the front was a rather large lady. No, she was massive, huge. One of those ever so large women that actually wobble when they walk - or rather waddle.

My three year old ("i am mearly 4 dad") says in a voice that was so loud there were people in adjoining postcodes able to hear; "dad, why is that woman so fat? Does she eat too much food?"

Cue sniggering and tittering from the rest of the queue and one man who clearly has top embarrassment tolerance - he just plainly laughed out loud.

The poor woman clearly heard it, ignored it and waddled back to her car.

My three year old, oblivious to her lack of manners continued to skip merrily in her tinkerbel dress around the pay machine without a care in the world.

Sunny side up sir?

Dan

Comments

The Ego Has Landed

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 14:03:49 +0200

Life has a funny way of compensating. Sometimes, just sometimes somthing happens that just makes you skip a little, smile a bit more and generally feel good about yourself.

After the crushing realisation of age catching up in my previous blog, yesterday I had the total reverse.

I was visiting one of my regular customers and they have a large office in some god forsaken industrial park in High Wycombe. Usually what happens is; I turn up, ask the pretty receptionist if I can steal some bandwidth and electricity and log in with my laptop on a hot desk, steal some tea, steal some of their phone calls then raid their stationary cupboard.

They don't seem to mind. They place plenty of orders.

The banter is good as being a home based worker when not on the road I don't get into offices much. And our own offices are now so full of hotdesks that you cannot get chatting to anyone. I know these people in my customers offices better than my own team.

Anyhoos, enough of the background - to the money shot.

I cheekily asked one of the girls if they would make me a tea as I am a guest in their premises and it would be rude if I went a did it myself. (despite me making it myself on a thousand other occasions, which to be fair she did point out to me) but she relented and then did a round of teas. As an aside, it never is just one tea is it?

She and her friend (girls always travel in two's don't they?) went off to make said teas and I realised that I had some biscuits in my bag they could share out. So I wondered over to the kitchen (which is enclosed) to give the biscuits over when I overheard their conversation and it went along the lines of this:

Girl 1 - I am glad Dan is in today
Girl 2 - Yes I noticed you perked up when you saw him
Girl 1 - I wish I had known i would have done my hair
Girl 2 - You like him?
Girl 1 - yeah, he's cute. Considering he is mid thirties he looks good.
Girl 2 - he's OK but not my type
Girl 1 - he is a laugh and the office is better when he comes in
Girl 2 - is he married?
Girl 1 - yeah, two kids too.
Girl 2 - oh well never mind
Girl 1 - story of my life

at which point I slid back to my hot desk with rather glowing cheeks. This is something of a rarity for me. Not that I am some ugly picasso like munter, but nor am I Brad Pitt, George Clooney or a boy band member. I am as I say - standard. I have been previously described as a cross between John Sim (life on mars & latterly Dr Who) and Les Dennis!

Now it is fair to say that girl 1 is very good looking. I have seen her on company nights out and she dresses to kill. So suffice to say my ego took a massive boost to know that a younger girl thinks I am "cute" and not only that but a younger girl who is attractive too.

I played it cool when my tea came over and gave her the biscuits to share around at which point girl 2 gave me a knowing look. Or perhaps I imagined it.

But hey - I will dine off this story for a while.

Dan

Comments

It's Official.....I Am Getting Old

Wed, 18 Jul 2007 10:20:38 +0200

I am well aware of the cliches like; turning into your dad; when you do not understand modern music; or it is too loud; kids don't talk proper like we does, etc etc and I hae steered clear of all of them.

I still like new music - gangsta rap, heavy house & similar excluded. But that is not a modern thing, I grew up in the acid house era where all this came from (to a point) and hated that. "Aceeeeeeeeed, aceeeeeeed" A musical phenomenon? yeah right, whatever. So that is not it either.

No, last night the GLW took delivery of the brand new Next Catalogues. (Note the plural BTW. Yes, 2 catalogues now...one for clothes and one for home and gadgets...but I digress).

I like Next stuff. I have two suits from there and an array of casual wear. But this morning I was casually flicking through when I saw a pair of jeans, faded, with paint splashes on that they want £35 for.

"why would anyone wear jeans that made them look like they have been decorating all day?" I said.

"Ha Dan, you are getting old, it is the fashion now" Replied a chortoling GLW like a teenage daughter.

Now seriously, a couple of my mates look like this every night in the pub. They are painters by trade (when not trying to sell me dodgy Lacoste Polo shirts)and they have a crappy old pair of jeans, trashed and splodged that they work in and then they shower and change into something that is clean.

Why on earth would someone buyt a pair of jeans that look 10 years old and dirty? My immediate reaction ot seeing someone like that would be "so where you working at the moment" and no doubt when the response is something like "in the carphone warehouse" he will wonder why I look bemused.

So, there it is. I am officially old. The omitted cliche from the beginning was about fashion and clearly it has passed me by.

Now, where did I leave my waffle trousers?

Dan

PS - I am only 36.....that's not old....is it?

Comments

I Am On diet!! Me!?

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 12:07:22 +0200

Well who would have thought it eh? I am 5-8, 10 and a half stone and I am on a diet. Honestly, on windy days I have to wear lead in my shoes to keep me on the ground.

Well, perhaps i am being a little unfair. The Good Lady Wife (for latecommers to my blog more often referred to as "the GLW") has decided that as we are off to spain in August it is time for a 7 week diet and therefore by default I too am on a diet.

So now in the fridge is low cal this, diet that. Dinners are all low fat. We had pasta in tomato sauce last night which while rather pleasant, did not hit the spot like a slab of fillet steak with new potatos dripping in butter.

Now, please do not think I am being a typical male here and suffering because the wife does all the cooking and shopping. It is not like that. I am silently BANNED from eating or indeed buying such foods as it is "unfair" and i would be bad for her as I would not be showing her the encouragement she thinks I should supply.

But the fact are these: She looks fantastic. She gave birth just 14 months ago and looks as good now as the day we were married, but this diet thing was so successful (gold memebr at weight watchers) that now she finds lumps on her thighs in her imagination and says they need "smoothing out".

So because of this, the nice thick Hovis white bread has been replaced by what can only be described as brown cardboard with gravel in ("they are seeds and really good for you"), the country life butter is now something so insipid at actually spreads when cold and tastes like you have licked 100 envelopes.

Th beer and wine....oh the beer and wine....yes gone. Replaced by diet coke and fking cranberry juice.

I am working from home today and for lunch I think I am going to go to the local deli and load up on a whopping great cow baguette.

And chips.

I am fading away I tell you.

Dan

Comments

I was only away for 10 days!

Wed, 04 Jul 2007 13:12:10 +0200

Blinking flips...I have a week and a half away and all hell has broken loose in blogland.

No need to repeat and outline or even comment on people's various individual disasters but it does go to show how fragile it all is in both blogland and real life.

Airing personal views no matter how annoymous is a dangerous game and hiding behind a nickname and an avatar is no real safety net. And when the "Friends only" mechanism crashes it can only mean disaster.

Anybody I know who accidently strays across my blog will know within five minutes that they know me personally. i am happy about having only a modicum of annonimity as it keeps me honest and tactful.

But I am also aware that may dilute my blog as when I want to tear into the GLW or my work with a tirade of pent up fury...I can't.

But I am a bit of a voyeur and enjoy reading about others who are willing to share more than I do, so it is for that reason that i am also upset by what has gone on as it will make people be more like me in blog land.

And that would be a disaster.

Dan

Comments

Just A Quickie

Fri, 22 Jun 2007 17:38:46 +0200

Just to say I am away for a few weeks from Monday, I won't be writing (but I will be reading) and I do not want to be deleted from any "friends" lists for not being active.

I am very selective over my blog friends and am genuinely interested in what they have to say. I read them all which is why I keep it to a small band. (OK, not that many people have invited me, but I have refused and deleted a handful or so that were just collecting for ego purposes)

So if I lose one, I take it personally - which reminds me - where the H did Euryice go? I liked her stuff.

See you in July people -

PS - JuliaH...still need update on missing £35K - and stay off the wine!
Nicolasconfessions - You are unwell...behave yourself
Lonemum - Let it pass and keep carving!
Abilene - Stay on the darkside..fab reading (I do mention it to the GLW, but she does not seem to want to play)
La -SPICE - sorry could not make laspice day. In dairy for next year
Annie - OK I fell for it, but am still interested in next chapter
Ladeebird - July 1 is a good day. Don't fear it
Bloglikesit - don't kill off tweety
Delilah - Not really read much yet to comment.

See ya!

Comments

Going Off Alarming

Reality Check - Something Special

Grrrrrr!!!! Look - It's Quite Simple

The Neighbours New Car

A Very Bad Day....but deliciously bloggable!

Saturday night is NOT Alright

Dirty Dancing

The 9 Rules Of Christmas - Important

Am I right...or just tight?

The Doctors Surgery

A Human Cash Machine!

*danger* Ladies Wot Lunch and Three year old Backhands.

37 Today! Happy Birthday To Me!

Watch out - Pen Thief Alert!

Taps...taps taps flippin' taps

Back Back Back!!!

Nuts To All This

So This Is Christmas?

It's Always The Quiet Ones - the Porn Library

Gat(gets on my)Wick Airport

That Madeline McCann Moment

Ok - Panic Is Starting To Set In

Boot Fairs - Voyage of the dull

I am in serious trouble

Cheat Cheat Cheat!

Your Kids - The Embarrassment Factor

The Ego Has Landed

It's Official.....I Am Getting Old

I Am On diet!! Me!?

I was only away for 10 days!

Just A Quickie

danger Ladies Wot Lunch and Three year old Backhands.