Snotbag

So I was in the window at work (behind the window getting stock, not actually in the window) when I see a woman waiting to be served. I go over and ask if she needs help. This is how the conversation goes

~*~

Can I help at all?

Give me the pearls at £30.

Oh yes, those have actually been reduced to £15 now.

Why? What's wrong with them?

Nothing, They've just been reduced for a limited time.

OK, Get them.

~*~

I'm a tad bit annoyed at the rudeness but collect the pearls and put them on the counter. Smiling all the while, I explain that they're cultured pearls, RRP of £55 pound, and look lovely on.

The conversation continues

~*~

No those aren't the ones in the window.

Oh, well these are the only ones for that price but I'll...

I'll show you the ones in the window, they're the ones I want.

~*~

As of yet, no smiles, no happiness. I follow her with my own forced smile out into the window display. She points out the very pair I'd shown her 4 seconds ago. I explain this information and tell her that it's just because of the lighting in the display and the fact the pearls are close to the light.

It continues again

(please visualise this woman as slim, plum coloured coat, sucking lemon mouth, and a look on her face as if she can smell dirty nappies and feet all the time.)

~*~

Bring out that string you gave me earlier and we'll see if they are the same shall we?

Honestly, they are the same but as all pearls are unique, each string will look slightly different.

Well I want the one out the window.

I can get it but it will be the same I'm afraid (by this time I can't be bothered to sugar coat my words anymore.)

Get those, I want those. If they are the same, you wont mind swapping them over will you?

~*~

by this point, the queue has managed to grow beyond the front door and all the other customers are looking ether bored or pained to see me endure this sarcasm from Snotbag.

~*~

So, into the locked room behind the window. I stand on tip toes and reach to get the pearls down. I hold the window ones against the other ones. Shock horror, they are the same. I'm half tempted to take the same pair out just to get a little kick out of what has become a chore of a sale. But I'm stopped before I can do my evil plan laugh 

~*~

My work mate pops her head around the door and says "put it back, she's buggered off. Snotty cow."

Apparently I'd taken too long (about 25 seconds) I was useless and she was going somewhere where the sales assistant knew her job.

~*~

Deep breath, smile, put pearls back.

~*~

So the ordeal with Snotbag was over. And I'd just started to like her. I put the pearls back in the window and turn to walk away. Then, as a final finale piece....

~*~

The clock falls off the wall and hits me on the head.

Carol Singers

A group of about 20 school children were outside my shop for three days this week singing Christmas songs and raising money. Now for the first 10 minutes this is cute, but when the children only have a four song repertoire, it soon gets a tad bit annoying. After half an hour I've heard Rudolf The Red Nose Reindeer, Jingle Bells, Frosty The Snowman and 12 Day of Christmas four times. by the fourth round, 12 days becomes a bit mumbled.

~*~

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love sent to me

9 laleezdanzi

8 mazamillen

7 swazzarswi'i (getting faster)

6 geezalain

FIVE GOLD RINGS!!!!!!

4 corlyburs (faster)

3 frenchends (faster)

2 turrledoes (lightening speed)

AND A PARTRIDGE IN A PEAR TREEEEEEEEE!

~*~

We also got a Simpson version of Rudolph (words in caps are shouted)

~*~

Rudolph the red nosed reindeer

Had a very shiny nose

And if you ever saw it

You would even say it glowed (LIKE A LIGHT BULB)

All of the other reindeer

Used to laugh and cal him names (LIKE PINOCCHIO)

They never let poor Rudolph

Join in any reindeer games (LIKE MONOPOLY)

~*~

Bless, they were there almost all day. Poor fund raising, mumbling, excitable nippers.

~*~

One other thing, the label on my smoothie reads as follow (next to the ingredients list)

Non Sick Note

Dear Boss/teacher/__________

This note is to clarify that _______has not eaten chocolate spread out the jar, made crisp sandwiches or pretended that wearing jogging bottoms to the shop counts as exercise for over a week.

They have also consumed the entire contents of this bottle. thus ticking 2 of their 5-a-day. 58% of their RDA of vitamin C and some fibre. Plus they are thinking about going to boxercise with Carol on Tuesday.

Therefore, please accept this note as permission to have next ______day/afternoon off in return for their excellent healthy behavior.

Yours Sincerely

Innocent.

~*~

This made my entire week.

~*~

(Note courtesy of Innocent Smoothies.)

Weather

It's Snowing. A lot!

~*~

McBride and I were sitting watching 'Children Of Men' (a very good film I think) and I looked towards the window. The curtains are quite thin and there's a street light over the road. "The light outside looks funny, the wrong colour almost." I get up, peek out the window and let out an involuntary squeak. "it's snowing!"

~*~

The next morning, (yesterday) I had to go to work at 8. So I arm myself with snow boots, mittens, ear muffs and camera phone and set off.

~*~

It's strange how quiet everything goes when it's snowed. the whiteness dulls the traffic noise. Glasgow doesn't stop when the weather gets rough. I remember in January when snow hit the south and the whole world seemed to stop. Up here, even the blooming litter pickers are still hard at work. But all the cars, buses, drunks (it is Glasgow) and children are silenced in the whiteness. Walking through the park listening to Sigur Ros and marvelling at the frozen playground and the humorous snow graffiti. (someone had written the word 'faeces' in the snow.)

~*~

towards the city centre, the snow turns to that manky grey slush that we all know and love. and by this time, my fingers are numb. lets got to work. it's not as pretty here.

~*~

Waking up this morning to that similar silence, i sneak out of the bedroom and open the living room curtains. The shop over the road has disappeared behind the snowfall. (the stuff falling from the sky, it hasn't snowed so much that buildings are hidden, don't worry) the fir tree outside is covered in the stuff. A ready made Christmas tree. and because our street is a close and blocked at one end, no cars are coming through so the road is a flat, white, clean sheet. like a freshly made bed. pretty.

~*~

There are three ideas running through my head.

1: Snow angels in the road

2: writing CC HEART MM on the road

3: Making an army of snowmen at the top of the road to stop any cars coming in and ruining the road.

~*~

Then again, maybe I'll just make a hot chocolate and sit under a duvet and watch Muppet Christmas Carol. It's not too early is it?

~*~



Human Cushion

My day today starts off well. The fact I'm not at work until 10:30 means I can stay in bed and have a snuggle with McBride before leaving at 10. As I won't be finishing until 7, I decide the best idea is to grab the train in and back again. Save walking through a frozen park in the dark. (rhyme)

~*~

So I grab my tickets, hop on a train and take the three minute journey into Argyle Street. There's a fair few people jumping off with me and we march towards the escalator. For some strange reason, you have to go down a flight, before walking along a tunnel then back up a flight again. I'm not quite sure why.

~*~

So we walk along and make our way to the 'up' one. I'm standing there listening to 'Doves' when suddenly, about half way up, I feel a sudden thump in the back.

~*~

And this is just the beginning.

~*~

The guy behind me has missed the step whilst running up the escalator. he has fallen forward and is now using me as a human cushion. BANG!

~*~

Now imagining this next bit happening in slow motion.

~*~

I fall forward. My hands go out to stop myself. The tips of my fingers hit the step three up from mine, bending my finger nails backwards and numbing the nerves in the middle and ring fingers on both hands. My right shin hits the very corner of the step in front. the 'tooth-edged' step you find on most escalators. My left foot slips out behind me, turns 90 degree clockwise and hits the step behind. My cheek hits the moving banister and my book hits the floor.

~*~

ouch.

~*~

'Oh, s**t, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, oh s**t, oh god, are you OK? oh s**t.' Is all i can hear and i nurse a poorly face with poorly fingers. The guy behind my has his hand on my back and looks whiter than a white thing. (snow?)  at this point I'm so embarrassed but the fall I just smile and say 'Don't worry, I'm fine. no worries. not your fault.'

~*~

At this point, we're at the top of the steps. He looking very concerned. (He's about 50 so it's all very strange t have a guy this aged with his hand on my shoulder.) But I just shrug off all the sympathy and smile again. 'Don't worry.' He picks up my book and I wiggle my fingers, still numb

~*~

I continue walking (limping) to work. I get into the staff room and see I'm shaking. shaking? why?

~*~

My manager sees me and makes me a cup of tea. Then I prod my leg. Yep, that hurts. Prod my face. Yep, that too.

~*~

But at least my fingers don't hurt. It's 4pm before I feel them again.

~*~

Moral? Less haste, more speed. Or, try not to used small women as pillows. we will break.

Male Customers

Some are sweet

~*~

Do you think she'll like this one?

Well, I think it's a lovely design. I think she'll love it.

Well in that case, if she doesn't like it, I'll bring it back and give it to you, a beautiful necklace for a beautiful girl.

~*~

Some are funny.

~*~

Can I have something from the window?

Yes, let me pop out and have a look with you

Wow, you're not from round here.

(laugh) no, unfortunately not

No, you've got well a sexy voice, unlike all the n.e.d's (Non Educated Delinquents) round here. Wow, just keep talking to me and I'll buy what ever you tell me too...but not diamonds, I'm quite poor.

~*~

Some are adorable

~*~

Have you got anything with 'Mum' or 'Mummy' on it.

Yep, is it from you?

No..it's...erm, My wife is pregnant and I.. wanted to get her a Christmas present from bump.

~*~

My heart melted.

Happiness is...

...Serving an 80 year old woman.

~*~

OK so that doesn't sound like the greatest thing around but let me explain.

~*~

I'm half way through selling an 80 year old (we'll call her Betty, just to make it easier) a pair of earrings. Betty is quite fond of pearls it would seem and is hoping to buy a pair of simple studs for her grand daughter. As we're talking about the 9ct gold and the fresh water pearls, someones mobile begins to ring in the queue behind her.

~*~

'If you like it then you should have put a ring on it,

If you like it then you should have put a ring on it,

If you like it then you should have put a ring on it,

oh oh oh, oh oh oh, oh oh oh, oh oh oh'

~*~

The queue all turn to each other with looks of 'Well it's not me.' Betty turns around, shakes her head and smiles at me. "probably someone with they're earphones in who can't hear their own phone ringing."

~*~

Then she reaches in her pocket and pulls out a mobile phone 'Or maybe it's just an old woman who's forgotten she downloaded a new ring tone.'

~*~

This little old lady not only had Beyonce as her ring tone, she downloaded it herself. Betty is a legend!

One Of Those Days..

04:30  ~ Wake up to the sound of the title music on a 'Friends' DVD. Try to get out of bed without opening eyes too much and bang shin on the bedside table.

09:30 ~ Wake up to my alarm and find McBride still lying with his arm across my tummy. He should have been in school half an hour ago.

09:35 ~ Into shower. Still quite sleepy and hazy eyed. Accidently put face scrub in hair. After worrying about the exfoliating 'bits' rubbing hair off or something equally ridiculous, wash hair properly with herbal essences.

09:50 ~ After moisturising, find I've only shaved one leg.

10:15 ~ Burn tongue on tea.

10:50 ~ Walk to train station and find out at the ticket booth that purse is still on the coffee table. Walk back home and retrieve before trying again.

11:15 ~ Arrive at work and begin to change, put t-shirt on back to front.

11:30 ~ Begin shift.

11:35 ~ Head butt window whilst helping a customer.

11:45 ~ Finally realise t-shirt is on back to front.

13:40 ~ Ask a fund raiser to send us a letter on 'pedded haper' instead of headed paper.

14:00  ~ Begin to lose voice.

15:10 ~ Choke on a monster munch during a break.

16:30 ~ Voice goes completely.

16:45 ~ Take bins down to basement, slip up on stairs.

20:00 ~ Close up shop and walk to train station.

20:05 ~ Stand on the join on the escalator step and lose balance as steps descend.

20:15 ~ Arrive home, fill kettle to make tea.

20:40 ~ Realise the kettle will boil quicker when switched on.

Off to bed soon, hopefully I won't lose my foot to frost bite or fall over a badger on the way.

Finally.

I can finally tell you the fantastic news that I have internet in my flat. Hurrah! Let's all get drunk and celebrate. It only took two months.

~*~

So much, So Much SO MUCH to tell you. I tell you now, this will be a long one. Go get some tea.

~*~

Right. I'm in my kitchen right now. how exciting is that. OUR kitchen. Mine and McBride's. We have co-habited (is that right?) And I have made more cookies than ever before. McBride must be loving it.

~*~

Well, maybe not. The poor guy has a broken toe. Broken the day before Steffi and Gary arrived. Apparently in class they were running around bare foot (Remember, McBride is a 26 year old and this is not a pre school) when someone ran into him and sort of snapped his toe backwards! Ouchy. So he's limping around with a swollen foot. I, being the ever careful girl I am, have managed to tread on it roughly 68 times already in the two weeks he's had it. I did buy him Danger Mouse slippers to say sorry though so I think I'm back in his good books.

~*~

So Steffi and Gary came to stay a couple of weeks ago. That was pretty epic. Hosting's good fun. I spent a week on a sofa bed and didn't break my back, which is cool. Steffi and I walked for miles shopping, which was also cool. It was just awesome to see them again. Steffi cried when she got here, cried when she left, the poor woman was almost hysterical when she met me from work the day they arrived.

~*~

So work (see what I'm doing here? little links between paragraphs to make it flow. Good ey?) I now work in a jewellers. It's fabulous. Lots of sparkly things, a gold, a diamonds. We had a guy come in one Friday who bought an engagement ring. He then came in on the Sunday and said "She said yes, thank you so much for helping me, she loved the ring. Thank you." so job satisfaction is of a high level. We also keep chocolates behind the till which always makes me smile. It makes the walk home seem shorter.

~*~

Yep, I walk to work and back everyday. I walk through Glasgow green which is all orange and red at the moment. Apart from early mornings when it's white and frosty, (or when it's pouring down, in which case, i catch the train.) It's a lovely park and comes complete with a beautiful fountain and 'The People's Palace' which is like a city museum. Come visit, we can go there some time. We'll get cake.

~*~

Cake, mmm.

~*~

Ok so that wasn't really a link to a new paragraph but the thought of cake makes me smile. As does the boy in the next room playing his guitar. I'll get soppy for a moment. skip the next bit if you wish.

~*~

Living with him is wonderful. Waking up next to him in the morning and thinking, 'This is ours. We paid for this.' It makes me feel great. Coming in from work and finding post on the floor addressed to both of us. Hearing him sing in the shower. it all makes my tummy a bit fizzy. I like it.

~*~

But I miss people so much. you know who you are (Ooh, how very cryptic.) Before getting the job, I was very lonely in the day time and had resorted to ridiculous things like watching 'Loose Women' to pass the time. Not a good plan. Although I kind of envy them. I wish I could get paid to sit for an hour bitching about the world. Lucky sods.

~*~

This post has somehow lost it's way. I'm sorry. My posts will go back to their usual random selves soon. I just wanted to update you on life in the north. A life where the little things are making my day.

• Leaving my tights on the heater whilst I have a wash in the morning
• Listening the the dozens of busking on the high street (A whole post will be dedicated to this)
• Introducing McBride to musicals in order for him to find a song for school.
• Watching Hugh Fernley-wittydoo-dah on Channel Four and thinking 'I'm so making that at the weekend'
• Watching the old guy and his really fat dog walk past every morning at the same time.
• Pretending to be in a music video when walking through the park early in the morning whilst listening to Sigur Ros.
• Using phrases like 'No, you can't have mashed potato, we're too poor to buy a potato masher'

~*~

Life is pretty cool at present.

~*~

Now if only I could work the blender...

Home

OK. Let's be honest.I lied when I said I'd be online in just over a week. As you can see a month has gone by and I'm only just blogging again, and it's not even from my lap top. I'm through in Edinburgh on LizBirds netbook waiting for the motive to get out of my pyjamas and jump on the bus back home.

~*~
Home. My home. Bridgeton in Glasgow is now my home. It feels weird to say it but it's true. After a night out, I feel that comfort when I turn the key in the door. It's home to me, not a place to stay before heading off again the next day. It took a couple of weeks to feel that way but it is now. My pictures are on the walls, my momentos are held on my fridge with my magnets. My dresses are hanging in my wardrobe. I have settled.

~*~

I get my Internet on Thursday. Hurrah! I can finally sell my crap on Ebay. I can also update you properly on all the very exciting things I'll get up to. things like dodging charity workers (guiltily) eating cake (even more guiltily!) and spending too much money in Lush (unguiltily, if that's a real word) So keep your chin up. I'll be back sooner than you think with anecdotes and other things. ooh it's exciting isn't it?

~*~

No?

OK then.

~*~

See you soon

Yep, Still Here

Och aye!!!

~*~

Yes, I'm still here, sat at the RSAMD on a classroom computer printing off CV's. Unfortunately I only have about 47 seconds before I have to rush off to buy a washing machine. But never you fear, lovely reader.

~*~

In about a week I shall have full internet access in my new flat. I have been jotting down bits and bobs on my lap top ready to copy and paste as and when. As soon as I'm up and running, you shall be invited into the wonderful world of me.!

~*~

Thank you for your patience whilst this little blip called moving gets in the way of life.

~*~

Love to all from northern skies.

Small people

British summers, they're full of drizzle, screaming children and the faint smell of drains. (Maybe it's just Portsmouth that deals with the last one.)

~*~

So, armed with a big bottle of juice, cardigans, sun cream, jammy dodgers and camera, McBrde and I venture out to the seafront with a seven year old. (No worries, we had asked to borrow her from my cousin. We didn't just ake a random child from Sommerstown.)

~*~

Little'in  wants to see the butterflies and the dinosaur so first stop is the common. Looking out to sea with a look of contemplation is a 50 ft dinosaur.  (I will say, the size is approxamate. As we type, McBride is looking into the middle distance and chewing the side of his mouth in a 'round about...probably...something like...' way),The dinosuaris part of an artist project that is also at a Local Gallery. We take some pictures and have a wander around the feet. Little'in then kicks the back leg and says "It's made of plastic don't you know?" We then cross over to the beach and throw stones. I pretend to throw little'in in the sea. Little'in tries to push McBride into the sea. McBride takes its a little further and gets me in a firemans lift.

~*~

Next it's the arcade. It's ridiculous how accictive a two pence machine can get. It's also ridiculous how heavy the toys in the grabbing macine can be. Little'in is left empty handed after a massive win on the two pence machine. So we decide to cheer up up again by walking to the butterflies.

~*~

McBride has to pop to see a friend so Little'in and I have a race all the way to the toilets. I'd forgotton that small children don't have strong bladders. I'd also forgotton the reason why I'd grown such a strong bladder. It's the public toilets on the seafront.

~*~

Canoo Lake. Lots of small children with brightly coloured nets trying in catch tiny fish. There's families playing bumper pedlos and old people feeding pidgeons. Little'in and I sit on a bench dedicated to 'Ken Miller' and wait for McBride to return. I start daydreaming and only resurface when Little'im jumps on the bench and frantically waves her arms around. "He's not waving back.I think he needs to go to Specsavers!"

~*~

Cuberland House has not changed at all since my first trip back around 1991. I'm sure it hasn't changed since 1951 to be honest. But all the same, we wander round, looking at a texidermists dream. Everytime we see the word 'Southampton' We are bombarded with facts about the Titanic. "That's where the Titanic sailed from. The Titanic hit an iceburg. Did you know the Titanic was meant to go to America?" Guess what this terms topic was a school.

~*~

Anyway. We look at fish, stuffed animals and butterflies. We see a woman breast feeding quite openly in the butterfly house, (bit strange) And rush around after a 7 year following the same conversation over and over. "what's this?" "That's a..." "what's this?" "Well that's a..." "What's that?" "Stand still for two seconds and I'll explain." No matter how much wisdom McBride and me want to embark, we're back out the front door within about 20 minutes.

~*~

Did you know that the pavement outside the natural history museum is made of fire? No? Us neither. But little'in is certain and uses this as a legitimate reason to scramble around trying to get on McBride's shoulders. Seriously pickle, It's starting to rain and we're waiting for a lift from a lady who promised us she'd be here 10 minutes ago. Calm down and ssshhhh.

~*~

Children are great. They're full of questions that you know will take yonks to answer "Why is the queens husband not the king?" They say the most 'old people' things. "So, how are those eggs of yours coming along then?" and they make you quickly remember that you're no very fit. "Lets race to that tree!"

~*~

At least when they're not yours, you can give them back when you're done.

Finding Things Out The Hard Way

Yesterday was the first day of my holiday. It was also a family friends 18th Birthday. I love a good party so decided to start my preparation early in the evening. I ran a hot bath, crumbled in a lush bubble bar and soaked myself into a prune.

~*~

I also thought it would be a brilliant idea to have a packet of Maryland cookies next to me. I can assure you now that it's not. I'm reminded of the monster munch incident as I take a bite out of cookie number four. Yep, it breaks.Yep it falls into the water. Yep it all happens in stupidly slow slow-mo. Crap.

~*~

So the next two minutes are spent fishing around under the bubbles for half a cookie. I've got images of the bubbles fizzling out as the sugar content eats away at the bath water. I have horrible thoughts about putting my hand underwater to discover my broken cookie has done a 'Gremlin' on me and turned into a scary human killing monster cookie. I swish my hand around and find it. A soggy, crumble piece of used-to-be-yumminess.

~*~

Just when I think it's over, I grab the cookie and apply a little too much pressure. It crumbles into millions and millions (no exaggeration, honest) of pieces that float to the top. My water has been contaminated. I can feel the crumbs between my toes. This is not how a lush bath is meant to feel. No other option, the plug comes out, as does the McFarley.

~*~

Being an 18th party, there were many teenagers present at the venue. Many of the men drunk on a pint of cider. Many  of the girls in dresses they look uncomfortable in. All but one of the girls. She looks very comfy in her tight grey mini dress. So confident in fact that she allows one of the boys to swing her around when a song they like comes on.

~*~

But unfortunately what begins as a fifties style jive turns into a bit of a horrific moment. He swings her legs over in my direction. I turn around at the wrong moment and...No, no shoe in the mouth, no kick in the head. Just a flash up the skirt. (I must stress once more that this is a mini dress)

~*~

There is nothing on under said skirt. Nothing. For what seems like a lifetime I am face to face with a 18 year olds...thing. Oh god, put the girl down, PUT HER DOWN!

YapYapYap

Firstly, I'd like to apologise for the last post. I was tired. I'd had a long week and only too late did I realise that my brain and fingers were both in working order, but unable to work in conjunction. Sorry about the randomness of the whole affair.

~*~

I'm in another one of those 'Let's listen really intently to these song lyrics' moods. Finding a line in so many songs that make me go 'Ooh, clever! Well done you.' Sometimes, this mood makes me change my facebook status to said lyrics. Most of the time it makes me late for things. things like miss the bus because I'm too busy rewinding the sang to hear it again. Being late for work because I won't turn off my music until the songs finished.

~*~

Music is Love, Love is Beautiful, Beautiful is a Song, A Song is Music. It's all connected.

~*~

Gag!

~*~

So, I had this customer the other day (here we go) who stormed over to my till point and slammed a bill onto the counter. She actually made my member of staff jump.

"Good morning madam, you OK there?"

"I want you to sort this out" Picture, if you will, a small terrier of a woman with a face that needs an iron and a voice that equally crinkled. She's quite well spoken and is wearing one of those fleeces with the pictures of the wolves across the back. know the ones I mean? Good, then we'll continue

"OK, would you like to pay your bill?" (oh yeah, I completely forgot to say that the piece of paper was in fact a statement for her store card"

"No, I don't want to pay my bill (sarcasm) I want you to be clever and tell me where the hell it says I need to pay £27" (Patronising)

"Well madam, if your statement says that then you must have spent that and need to pay it back. I can do that on this till if you want."

"What did I say?" (patronising tone turns to alight anger) "I will not be paying this and you are going to sort it out that I don't. Understand?"

"I'm sorry, if there's a mistake then you'll have to call the number on the statement. I can't access your bank details on this till."

(hand flicks in the air as if swatting at a wasp "I'm done with you girl, I want to speak to your manager."

~*~

Now, I've been in the shop this whole time and have listened to the conversation. My staff member comes over to get me and, after the initial look of 'you couldn't possibly be old enough to be in charge' she puts the paper back on the desk and says the self same thing to me.

Unfortunately I get the disco remix with two verses of "That girl said she wouldn't do anything" and a beet box of "I know my rights" I just calmly explain that there's nothing we could do and if she talks to or about my staff like that again, I would have to ask her to leave the store.

~*~

This is the moment when anger turns into blind terrier style yappy rage.

"How dare you talk to me like that, I demand to know why I'm forced to pay my hard earned cash on something like this. The girl before you was useless and you're just the same. I want to speak to someone higher than you." the 'you' at the end of this sentence is spat out like a pip. Pow right in the eye. The word 'speak' has a certain level of saliva in it, which narowly misses my left cheek. Phew, close call there!

~*~

"I can get a floor manager but...."

"No, I want (dramatic pause) the store manager."

"Unfortunately he's unavailable but I can get you a floor manager. I regret so say (I'm the sarcastic one now) that they will say the self same (sorry Siany) thing as me and my staff."

"Oh forget it, I'll go upstairs to business support. I'm just going round in crcles with you and that girl of yours."

~*~

And you have a lovely day too.

A Post About....Nothing. (Seriously)

I am beat!

~*~

I'm contemplating on making those three words my entire post.

~*~

I am beat

~*~

But I won't. Instead, I will bore you with small stories about my days. It's just a pile of words. Every now and then, a couple of words pop up and say to me 'We're going to start a sentence, want to join us?' Most of the time I decline the offer, choosing instead to check my facebook page or watch another weird video on You Tube. But today, my fingers feel the urge to type. They want to get the random guff that's inside my brain, twist it into paragraphs, write it down and put a small star surrounded by two wavy lines after each one.

~*~

See

~*~

I've been typing a lot this evening. Writing a new CV from scratch, trawling through job vacancies at various shopping malls and stores, filling in online application forms and typing in criteria for flats I want to buy.

~*~

I, my good friend, am growing up! Yey me. After a day sipping JD and Coke and flinging a frisbee around, I'm sitting down and doing proper grown up work on a proper grown up computer ( as apposed to my cheeky little net book type affair) I won't lie and say I'm not scared about this whole thing. I'm terrified (I've been using that word a lot recently. I must get a thesaurus. Otherwise people are going to start to hate me.) But I'm tres exited. McBride is home for the summer and I keep forgetting that when he goes back to Glasgow, I'll be there next to him. Tugging on his sleeve and saying 'pleeeaaaaasssseeeeee can we buy that Kath Kidston apron?' or 'ooh ooh ooh, look, a Hello Kitty toaster!'

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Erm, so this isn't going anywhere really is it. I think I might just delete the whole thing and start again. Then I think Nah, just type type type. Oh god whats this about? Quick, make a point, say something clever, witty, intelligent (which is the same as clever)

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........

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Nope, it's not happening. I'm going to bed.

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Tomorrow I'll blog for a better reason than 'because my fingers wanted to.' Still, It kept my fingers out of the cake in the fridge for a while.

Five things

Things that have flittered through the cobwebs of my mind in the last few days

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1: I have a play to do.

A play I feel totally unprepared and under rehearsed for. When on stage, I feel like I'm really acting. That sound big headed and wrong, let me explain. I feel like there's no naturalness to my character. It all feels quite shallow in meaning. Like I'm just reading the lines from a book. I'm trying my hardest but I just look back over my last scene and think to myself 'That was obvious acting, and, even more worrying, not very good obvious acting.

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2: My basic academic skills have failed me big time.

Standing at the till point, the transaction comes to £4.50. The customer gives me a £10 note and a 50 pence piece. I press the £4.50 button then can't for the life of me work out how much change to give the customer back. The till display is saying no change due to wrong button pressing and I'm left staring into my till drawer thinking 'so 10 take away fifty is nine fifty. plus four pound fifty is twenty seven divided by pi is...'

It's not difficult woman! Seriously. To make matters worse, I look to the customer and say (and I quote) 'Sorry, my mathematical skills are badder than I thought.' Badder? That's not even a word! Go back to school dipshit!

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3: My arm muscles are starting to look like they could do some damage.

My new job demands more heavy lifting than my last job. In Gunwharf, I had about 9 men that could carry a box for me if i promised them tea. Now, I have no one so it's down to 5 foot 2 me to lug crates of notebook down a flight of stairs. Because of that, my arms are starting to muscle up a bit. Now, I must confess, it's nothing compared to the Fabulous Calves Of Finch™ but I'm quite proud of them. 

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4: The sun is shining

This makes me smile. Enough Said

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5: He comes home on Tuesday. This is a very Very VERY good thing.  

A Year

In roughly two weeks time, I'll never (touch wood) have to live at opposite sides of the country from McBride again. Never have to wake up and wonder what he was up to, if it was raining where he was, if the sky was the same colour.

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Because in a couple of weeks, I'll be able to just roll over and see him, frowning in his sleep.

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A year has past. Where the flip did it go? OK so it's not been a whole year but near as damn. I've been reading back over past posts and looking back with a smile. That feeling in the pit of my tummy when I got on that train back in September. That feeling of total insecurity, longing, loneliness. There was a fair sized chunk of me that got left behind on that platform. And another fair sized chunk that was frightened about the year to come. Frightened of almost everything. Being alone, Him finding someone else, Him realising I wasn't all that I was cracked up to be. Terrified of just drifting through the year, never really knowing where or who I was. I was terrified of having to stand on my own two feet with no arm at my side to grab onto when it got slippery.

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And now I'm here, typing about the fact that I won't have to do it again. A year has just flown by and I've grown in so many way (except physically). I'm a manager. I can drive (almost) I feel like I've grown up. I know now I can stand on my own two. and I can stick out my chest and say "Well bloody go me! Aren't I awesome?" (what's also good is the fact I remained modest throughout)

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Then I think back to all the times I've had to say goodbye to him. Airports, Bus Stations, Train Platforms. Too many times, I was so caught up thinking about the next goodbye that I took for granted that magic moment when we said hello. So the last time he came home (about a month ago) I made sure that all I thought about was that moment.

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Now it gets soppy.

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It's when his hands touch either side of you face and he holds it like a glass flower.

Its when he smiles that little smile that only you seem to see.

It's when he strokes the hair off your face and says "Hey you"

It's when he kisses you and your legs go fizzy

It's when he looks at your tear streaked face and whispers "Don't cry beautiful"

It's when he holds your hand and you remember how much you missed it, but at the same time, it feels like it's been there the whole time.

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Wow, I should write poetry.

The next post will be less gag inducing

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Promise

England's Bid

A few people I'd like to have a word with.

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Mr Capello

You're mind games with the team have NOT worked. Leaving it until two hours before the game to tell which players are starting is NOT a good tac tic. The players will not respect you, they will not like you. Neither will the fans.

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Mr Rooney

It is not your god forsaken right to wear that shirt. It is an honour and a privilege. Don't prance around like a fairy and then cry when the fans boo you. You have not made a single impact in what we laughingly call and attempt at the world cup. Don't pretend you are god. You are not!

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Mr Official

The ball was sodding in. there is no way in hell it was out. Technology is there for a reason. Use it!

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Mr England Fan

You spent £1000 pound to get across the world. Hotels, merchandise, tickets for the game, kit, sunscreen, whatever. It was all bought in the hope that we would win. I'm sorry the team we all support is so poor.

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For 4 years we have waited. For 4 years we have hoped for that second star. And once again, 11 overpaid, underachieving morons have let us down.

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And yet, in 4 years time, we'll all be there again, Thinking about 'what could be'.

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I'll be in Scotland by then, Wishing we'd qualified.

Stupid Moment

A short post but a post I feel I need to share.

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I've been interviewing possible staff members all day today. All applicants were sweet, charming girls and I feel a little bad that I can't hire them all.

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That's not the point

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The point is this.

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The first question in the interview is 'tell me about yourself.' The usual answers always pop up, sociable, friendly, enjoys films etc. But one girl said "I'm a twin"

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The words fall out. I can feel them falling from my tongue but I can't stop them. The second I say it, the little voice in my had goes 'tit'

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'Oh a twin, that's cool, Siamese?'

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See, tit!

Giving Blood (Or Not)

Two posts in one day. Lucky you.

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So, it's been four months since I last handed over (via my left arm vein) a big bag of O positive. So after work today, Steffi and I head over to the local community centre to partake in a lovely blood giving type party. Well, that was the plan.

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We arrive, have the compulsory glass of water and sit down before each being taken being a blue screen and asked out date of birth, if we've taken asperin in the last 7 days and if we've ever had sex with someone who injects themselves with blueberry juice whilst driving a heavy goods vehecle. All everyday questions.

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Then the mini needle comes out. They prick the end of your finger and drop the blood into a small test tube full of blue liduid. Only my finger won't bleed. My poor circulation has once again come up trumps. the poor nurse is squeezing my finger so tight that hers are turning blue. We finally get enough claret and she plops (strange word that) it into the tube. It's supposed to sink, mine does not. Fab!

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So it's onto the next table to have a blood test. A slightly bigger needle comes out to play and another lovely nurse takes a bit more blood. Then puts in in a machine before shaking her head and sighing.

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"OK, so your iron levels are not quite up at where they need to be. We need them to be at least 125."

"And mine is?"

"111"

"Oh, Bloody hell." (No pun intended)

" Yeah so you can't give today I'm afraid, you'll have to give it a year before you can donate again"

Bollocks!

~*~

So, instead of getting myself prepared to give blood, I take the 'Iron Levels Down?' leaflet and sit nxt to Steffi (who also had to have an iron test but passed.)

She is mental and has to have a local anaesthetic to be able to give blood. A needle to stop the needle hurting, yeah that's brainy! But she's soon given her bag and is sitting up ready to head over to the food table to have a glass of squash and a penguin.

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Then she goes grey.

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She's quickly ushered back onto the bed and her feet are placed on a big pillow. Bloodyhell (there it is again) talk about drama queen. She's shaking like shaky thing and is a grey as a grey thing. I think it's time to call Gary. It's about ten minutes before she back sitting up again, swinger her legs over the side of the bed like a small child. Apparently she's desperate for the loo. All that water beforehand has made it's way through. So slowly, hand in hand. The two of us, the one who couldn't and the one who did but then went crazy, hobble to the loos.

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"Do you mind if I blog about this? I ask

"Just don't take my picture and put it on facebook. If you hear a thud from the cubicle, I've gone again, climb over and get me."

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Loves My Steffi

Mondays

So it's Monday. Mondays are always so bloody hectic I almost wish they were at the end of the working week so I can relax afterwards.

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Take today for example.

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Get into work at half eight. (after sitting on a bus full of students who think they're rock stars when in fact all they can play on the guitar is the intro to 'Stairway to Heaven') and sign in. Put my bag in my locker (turn off phone to avoid rubbish iPhone battery running out) Pick up post and sigh at yet more CV's that i didn't ask for. Over to my shop.

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Sign into the till, check till float and grab paperwork. Take paperwork up to first floor and get Saturdays taking from the blue folder in the canteen. Work out how we did against target and take all paper work up to top floor.

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wait whilst another staff member uses the only computer. Then sign on and fill out Monday Morning Feedback. (a long process full of targets, percentages and equations. never the best thing so early on a Monday.

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During this time, I also check emails. Plead vie email, apologise via email, beg via email and so on. before printing off any thing 'important' and photocopying anything necessary.

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Then I head back down to the ground floor before taking a left into my stockroom (which is down yet another flight of stairs) I check for anything I may need (paperwork wise) during the day and then head to dispatch to make sure my pick up was indeed picked up.

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Then it's back over to my till to count stamps and see what today's target is. Then look around the shop for anything that

a: links to any of the 'important' paperwork, things to be taken off etc

b: Is untidy and needs to be put right

c: needs to be replenished with stock.

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After establishing point C, it's back down to the stockroom to get said stock. Then it's back up to the shop. And it's still only 9 o'clock.

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It's going to be a long day!