Going Off Alarming

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...

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.

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

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

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.

D

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.

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

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

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

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