I hope she acquits herself well.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
I hope she acquits herself well.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Whilst I understand that not everybody puts the same amount of consideration into these things, I was horrified by some of the outfits I saw. The men were all dressed pretty much standardly in tailored shorts or slack with a short-sleeved shirt or polo shirt - dull but inoffensive. But the women! Shorts pulled up as high as possible so that the waist was just below the bust, often with t-shirt tucked in and bagged over. And the colour scheme - fuschia pink with lilac seemed a popular combo.
Why do they do it? Why does all taste and decency desert some people once they go on holiday? I remember my mother saying things to us like 'it will do for your holidays' usually about a t-shirt or vest top that was cheap or not particuarly nice. It seems that this mindset is wide spread, but not in my suitcase. On holiday I dress exactly as I would at home if the weather was nicer.
Well, it was a place and rather beautiful place at that. Very green, but also very craggy. The weather was perfect - warm, but not too hot. And it was very quiet.
We were slightly worried when at our departure gate, there was barely anyone under 65. It was like a scene from Cocoon. We had wanted somewhere quiet but certainly didn't want to be the only non-pensioners, just because we suddenly felt very self-conscious that we stood out from the rest of the people there. But it turned out to be fine as the place we were staying wasn't populated by such a grey-crowd, but it was thankfully bereft of the usual English tourists.
We did plenty of swimming, drinking (rediscovering Portugese lager, SuperBock) and exploring (the town being rather like an Escher painting with stairs & winding paths that didn't really go anywhere. And we went on a cable car, which I found absolutely terrifying on the way up (I was frozen to my seat for the whole 20 minute ride) but I quite enjoyed on the way back down - the calming beer at the top may have played a part.
Unfortunately, within an hour of being back at work, all the relaxation was undone and I'm back to feeling wrecked
Friday, May 19, 2006
I love the Lambton Worm and think its a pity that it isn't known much outside of the region - its our equivalent of Robin Hood or King Arthur really. I used to love going to Lambton Lion Park as a child (it later became Lambton Leisure Park when they got rid of the lions) and they had a little display there explaining the legend.
Anyway, here is the original song:
One Sunday morn young Lambton
Went a-fishin' in the Wear;
An' catched a fish upon his huek,
He thowt leuk't varry queer,
But whatt'n a kind a fish it was
Young Lambton couldn't tell.
He waddn't fash to carry it hyem,
So he hoyed it in a well.
Whisht! lads, haad yor gobs,
Aa'll tell ye aall and aaful story,
Whisht! lads, haad yor gobs,
An' Aal tell ye 'bout the worm.
Noo Lambton felt inclined to gan
An' fight in foreign wars.
He joined a troop o' Knights that cared
For neither wounds nor scars,
An' off he went to Palestine
Where queer things him befel,
An' varry seun forgot aboot
The queer worm i' the well.
But the worm got fat an' growed an' growed,
An' growed an aaful size;
He'd greet big teeth, a greet big gob,
An' greet big goggle eyes.
An' when at neets he craaled aboot
To pick up bits o'news,I
f he felt dry upon the road,
He milked a dozen coos.
This feorful worm wad often feed
On calves an' lambs an' sheep,
An' swally little bairns alive
When they laid doon to sleep.
An' when he'd eaten aal he cud
An' he had has he's fill,
He craaled away an' lapped his tail
Seven times roond Pensher Hill.
The news of this most aaful worm
An' his queer gannins on
Seun crossed the seas, gat to the ears
Of brave an' bowld Sir John.
So hyem he cam an' catched the beast
An' cut 'im in three halves,
An' that seun stopped he's eatin' bairns,
An' sheep an' lambs and calves.
So noo ye knaa hoo aall the folks
On byeth sides of the Wear
Lost lots o' sheep an' lots o' sleep
An' lived in mortal feor.
So let's hev one to brave Sir John
That kept the bairns frae harm
Saved coos an' calves by myekin' haalves
O' the famis Lambton Worm
Noo lads, Aa'll haad me gob,
That's aall Aa knaa aboot the story
Of Sir John's clivvor job
Wi' the aaful Lambton Worm!
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Here is my guilty haul:
Primark navy with white polka dots shirt dress - worn three times so far.
H&M black 60s style jersey dress - worn twice over jeans.
Warehouse black & white striped prom dress - one once at a wedding & spilt creme caramel down it.
H&M brown patterned wrap dress - wearing now for the first time.
French Connection Brown patterned tunic - bizarrely it looks better on back-to-front
Celia Birtwell Monkey Puzzle shirt dress - needs a slip under it
Celia Birtwell Red Little Rock dress - just arrived yesterday & I think it would actually look better with opaques.
It's not started well. I've changed my combination of boots & tights three times, but still not happy with my outfit and my hair looked good before I washed, but typically now it looks terrible and there was no milk so I haven't had my early morning cup of tea and the Present Incumbent has left his phone at home which will make meeting up tonight very difficult and I'm very tired and it looks like rain.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
- The smell of laundrettes
- Cherry tomatoes
- The Singing Horses
- Gael Garcia Bernal
- The Monkees
- Detective programmes
- New York
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Friday, May 12, 2006
The PM is certain that the manager of the venue we are using next week is gay but I had thought he was straight but I've realised now that I can only tell with people whose first language is English.
The PM even thought he might be in with a chance if he was single. That I find even harder to believe.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
And in the past year and a bit, I've cried alot through grief. And then in the last couple of months as work has battered my self-esteem I've cried on a few occasions because I've felt like a failure. On Saturday I cried twice - once when I saw an old man sat on the bench outside his house in his dressing gown in the rain and later at a documentary about Bobby Moore.
But I have never cried in front of anyone at work. I've gotten annoyed & once or twice, my bottom lip has started to quiver but I've always managed to get a grip in time. There have been times (London bombings when my sister started to cry on the phone which set me off & finding out someone I knew had died) when I've had to dash to the toilet for a few minutes.
However, my manager, henceforth to be known as The Tearduct, cries at least once a fortnight when something work-related goes wrong. Its getting ridiculous. I'm useless in these situations and really I don't think that crying is the right response from her most of the time.
They were purchased from a random stall that sometimes appears near work (like the shop Mr Benn frequents). It wasn't there yesterday when I went out to buy fruit, so I bought a tunic/dress from French Connection instead! I don't think that can count towards my 5 portions of fruit & veg.
The young lad serving managed to carry out a phone conversation with his girlfriend while serving me. This covered how she was better off with her mum because hostels are awful, but he isn't taking her mum's side, when she would next call him, how she was tight for ringing after 6 as she had plenty of credit on her phone. He would have been better off making sure he wasn't serving rotten fruit.
The other assumption is that we must be able to get free theatre tickets. Again we don't - unless shows aren't selling - in which case it is fairly safe to assume that you don't really want to go either (with the exception of some things at the Soho Theatre). Today the office was broken into and a CSI type woman came - she was asking about the nature of our business and sure enough her second question was about free tickets.
I must say I was rather disappointed with the CSI women - she was decidely lacking in glamour - she wasn't Horatio by any stretch of the imagination. I remember being equally disappointed when I did work experience at a law firm and it was nothing like LA Law. One of the female lawyers had a hump and mustache.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Yesterday, in a fit of rage that I can only liken to Jesus overturning the money lenders tables in the temple that time (I did go to a CoE school so I know this stuff), I tore down part of their display from the wall that was blatantly anti-USA propaganda.
It was a piece about the world's population that started off with the claim that the world was over-populated (I braced myself for Jonathan Swift's idea to eat the poor) but then continued into a diatribe about how the USA controls most of the world's wealth. What it had done was to simplify the world's population into 100 to make it easier and then claimed that 20 of those people owned 40% of the world's wealth and they were all in the USA (I can't remember the exact figures, but you get the idea). I have heard similar figures to this before, but usually it is the whole G8, not just the USA singled out and in doing this, it started to read like anti-USA propaganda.
To top it all, the rest of the exhibition isn't even very good.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
I was so close to resigning as well.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
I haven't actually filled out the return form yet - I don't know why I'm delaying it because I really can't keep it.
Still that frees up £100 to try to spend next week when Oxford Circus restocks.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
We then went to Don't You Want Me Baby. The ex-holiday rep caused a massive argument in the queue that resulted in 10 people being barred - she was in the right but I hate scenes & Jo was rather embarrassed too. The club itself really wasn't worth the effort - the floor was covered in broken glass & the music wasn't great. There were a few sleazy men in there - one who when it was obvious he wasn't getting anywhere with me said that all my friends danced as if they were from Essex. The Dutch girl kept claiming random men were the stripper, including one bloke who had such bad BO. At the end of the night he came over to Charlotte & I and asked who from our group had called him a tosser - diplomacy had left me by then so I replied 'It could have been anyone of us' and walked off.