I can but thank feck that I have never eaten here...
The Horror!
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Leaving do? Don't.
@ Thursday, 14. Aug, 2008 – 12:21:30 pm
So next Thursday sees my last day in this job. And I am not looking forward to it.
It's been, by and large, a really nice place to work, with friendly people, flexible working and
far tooeasy work. I'd hardly call it challenging, but it has been interesting and I've enjoyed my time here.But that's not why I'm not looking forward to my last day.
What I am actually dreading is that horror of horrors that anyone who has ever left an office job is forced to experience: the Staff Leaving Ceremony.
That awkward half-hour or so at the end of the day when the entire office moves to crowd around your desk, proffering an oversized card incongruously featuring a teddy bear proclaming Sorry You're Leaving! that you'll be embarrassed at having to carry on the bus on the way home, together with a present that a few days before everyone was grumbling about having to fork out for as yet another brown envelope made its overbearing, guilt-inducing way around the office.
(A present that, incidently, most people are only interested in seeing in order to judge exactly how much the person who is leaving was really liked, by virtue of whether you have been gifted a 46-inch plasma screen LCD HD TV, or a used teabag that has been scooped out of the sink in the shared kitchen and cleverly passed off as a mantlepiece ornament, creatively decorated with a twisted paper clip stabbed in the top.)
When you're suddenly expected to revert to the favoured diet of a hyperactive nine-year-old and gobble down cheap crisps, Tesco Value mini sausage rolls and those slightly sweaty, sugar-coated, cream-stuffed cakes of the hippopotami-thighs-inducing ilk.
When your awkwardness will be compounded as you are coerced by your similarly awkward co-workers - some of whom barely knew you existed until an hour ago and certainly won't care once the next hour is out of the way - into making a farewell speech that will inevitably start with the phrase: "I hate making speeches..." and contain the lie "You've all been great to work with and I'll miss you all..." and will then be cut short in embarrassed acknowledgement of its inadequacy, leaving everyone standing around wondering what the point of that was, what to do next and what vital work they can invent as an excuse for getting back to their desks without revealing that they, too, hate these Staff Leaving Ceremonies and would far rather we all just went to the pub and got pissed in proper English fashion.
Yesterday I had this conversation:
"So, RTB, what would you like for a leaving present?"
"Erm... A pint?"
"Hahahaha! No, really - what would you like for a leaving present?"
"Really? Erm... Two pints?"
And then there was this little gem:
"Ooh, we'll have to think of some things that we can tell P for your song."
"My... what?"
"Oh, remember when so-and-so-whose-leaving-do-you-missed-because-you-didn't-like-her left and P brought his guitar in and invented a song for her?"
*cringes* "No."
"Ah. Well, he did. We thought it'd be funny to have one for you, too!"
"No. Please. No. I don't want a song."
"Ah-hahaha! Yes, it'll be funny!"
"No. I don't want a song."
"Ah-hahahaha! We'll see!"
"I. Don't. Want. A. Song. No. No. No. NO!"
And for those of you who might think that I'm overreacting slightly to the hideousness of having to sit on my chair in the office while everyone stands around and joins in with a song that far surpasses Happy Birthday To You in its unwanted-centre-of-attention-cringeworthiness, let me just reveal that P is this man...
Not exactly someone I want to be seranaded by, as I'm sure you'll understand.
Hm. Maybe I could call in sick...
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Feelin' hot, hot, hot
@ Thursday, 31. Jul, 2008 – 03:26:47 pm
So then, let's see. The weekend forecast for Manchester, UK, where I am currently located.
Sat: Heavy showers. Max 20C.
Sun: Light showers. Max 20C.And next, the weekend forecast for St Louis, Missouri, where I shall be located as of this Saturday.
Sat: Mostly sunny. Max 35C.
Sun: Mostly sunny. Max 36C.*dances*
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P off
@ Thursday, 31. Jul, 2008 – 12:02:42 pm
So tonight marks the end of an era.
My lovely flatmate, P, has finally succumbed to the unrelenting tick-tock of his ageing biological clock and joined the Fearsome Ranks of the Grown-Ups as he moves in with his girlfriend (of approximately 24,576 and a half years) this weekend.
I'm really going to miss him
Who now can I stay up with until Stupid O'Clock in the morning watching re-runs of Shameless and This Life, talking about love, life, travel, football and the many merits of Guinness and Beer Lao as we open "just one more" bottle of red wine?
Who now am I going to tempt out for a We'll-Just-Pop-Out-For-One, But-Then-Again-Thursday-Is-The-New-Friday, Ooh-Look-They-Serve-Beer-Lao Drinking Session of Doom?
Who now am I going to wind up for arriving home plastered one night, putting a corn on the cob on the hob for a late night snack, promptly forgetting about it and passing out in bed, then waking up in the morning and grumpily enquiring if I'd "burnt the fecking toast?" upon entering the kitchen in which I was standing, in open-mouthed horror, examining the charred, smoking remains of my thankfully very robust (and hence very expensive) saucepan?
Who now is going to share my highs and lows with tea and
winesympathy, a caring ear, a shoulder to sniffle on and the incredible comfort of an awkward joke to hide absolute terror of having to say something grown up and helpful that is the true mark of a male friend?Who now is going to do my abandoned piles of washing up when I go away for the weekend?
Seriously? Who?*awaits*
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Gnat impressed
@ Monday, 28. Jul, 2008 – 02:30:26 pm
As aforementioned, I was unfortunate enough to be subjected to a vicious assault this weekend whilst taking a relaxing stroll through the Silent Valley.
Our unsuspecting group was busy admiring the tranquil view across the reservoir when we were suddenly set upon from all directions by a rabid group baying for our blood.
Try as we might to defend ourselves, our fiendish attackers were simply too great in number and too unrelenting in their frenzied onslaught for us to escape without multiple injuries.
Bloody gnats.I bear the scars of our heroic battle to this very day. And one in particular is proof of the barbarous determination and twisted perversity of our callous attackers.
For, as I sit here at my desk, I am finding it nigh on impossible to resist the temptation of scratching the torturous, compelling itch that is currently tormenting the nerve-endings on a red-raw patch of skin located on the underside of my left breast.
AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
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The shortened version
@ Monday, 28. Jul, 2008 – 09:15:51 am
Got to Ireland.
Got to the bar.
Got a pint of the Black Stuff.
Got out while the going was good.
Got a wonderful welcome from the Ks and the Os.
Got ever-so-slightly clucky over Baby O'K.
Got out and about in some beautiful scenery.
Got eaten alive by Gnashing Gnats of Doom.
Got stuffed to the gills with yummy food.
Got my nose into numerous glasses of red wine.
Got it reaffirmed that Guinness served in Ireland is the best in the world.
Then got it reaffirmed again.
Got saddened by nostalgia.
Got filled with helpless laughter.
Got some great memories.
Got a smile on my face.Oh... and I also got the job.
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Weekend away. To be sure.
@ Thursday, 24. Jul, 2008 – 09:21:55 am
So today I am off here...
There will be this...
There will be these...
And there will be an obscene amount of this...
Have good weekends, peeps... x -
Marketers, WIN - Rowtheboat, FAIL.
@ Wednesday, 23. Jul, 2008 – 02:07:49 pm
So I was on my way to the counter of the health food shop (ha!) to purchase my health-conscious chocolate brownie* that I've been craving since first opening my eyes this morning (and probably before that, in my Gu-filled dreams), when my attention was drawn to this:
I mean, honestly - this is beyond human endurance."Food of the Gods" (aka chocolate in all its forms - except for the Vileness that are Hershey's Kisses - aloo chili and my mum's Tia Maria ice-cream) is one of my favourite phrases (coming a close second to "Black Soup of the Gods"). And here it is, that very phrase, inscribed across the packaging of "a rich luxurious dark chocolate bar with cocoa nibs". How could I be expected to resist this temptation?
No, I have no idea what cocoa nibs are. But I am willing, purely in the interests of market research of course, to find out...
Thankfully, however, during the course of the journey back from health food shop (ha!) to desk, I have analysed the situation and realised that my desire to make said purchase was in fact influenced, albeit on a sub-conscious level, by the fact that this bar is:
- 100% ethically sourced (so I am therefore selflessly contributing towards a higher standard of living for more people across the world)
- Organic (so therefore must be good for me)
- Gluten-free (so therefore won't... erm... cause me to expire from excess gluten)- Vegan(who am I kidding?)So, take that, you Pernicious Marketers. You haven't sucked me in with your paltry Strapline of Joy meets Chocolate Product equals Winning Combination attempt at all. I'm simply being virtuous, healthy and... erm... eschewing gluten. Ha!
FAIL.*Yes. Of course I bought the chocolate brownie, too.
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From the wuff side of the streets
@ Monday, 21. Jul, 2008 – 04:24:11 pm
I'm guessing that this site is for
insanepet owners who are more Avril Lavigne than Paris Hilton... -
And another...
@ Sunday, 20. Jul, 2008 – 12:32:01 am
Reason why I wanted to learn how to play the piano
properly#23: wonderful haunting melodies... -
Guess the word
@ Friday, 18. Jul, 2008 – 09:22:51 am
I'll give you a clue. It's me, today. In fact, it's been me all week. No idea why.
I blame the weather. A pox on t'rain!
(That's me cursing the rain, by the way. Far be it from me to wish any harm to any commuters out there.)
Anyway...
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Time heals - so let's give these researchers a slap
@ Monday, 14. Jul, 2008 – 03:29:10 pm
I am shocked, stunned and amazed by this research.
It appears to imply that your general mood tends to dip and rise in acccordance with recent events, rather than in accordance with events that happened many years ago, which you learn to adapt to over time.
Isn't that astounding?
I feel enlightened. That was soooo worth an internationally collaborative 20-year study.
