More proof of why I’m not a morning person May 30, 2008

My other half springs out of bed in the morning, like he’s just had an electronic shock on his ass, but I’m quite the opposite.  I tend to use the snooze facility on the alarm for a good 15 mins, slink out from under the duvet, wander to the bathroom with my eyes half shut and until I get a brew, I’m pretty much useless. 

However, I am determined to get my dodgy knee better, which means early morning gym trips to the facility at the Boy’s work.  This morning, it was up at 6am, pack the bags and go. I did have time to make a cuppa tea for my vacuum cup/flask thingy, which does go down a treat whilst in the car on the M1. Not whilst driving, I hasten to add.

Duly, I did a good gym session of balancing, wibbling, squatting and stretching hamstrings with a wierd gym ball manouevre (it darn well works  but looks bizarre).  I had my lovely shower (see the boiler episode – another reason for morning gym trips) and then I went to get dressed.

I had obviously packed my gym bag with one eye closed this morning however, as there was no bra to be seen!  I couldn’t go to work without an over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder and I couldn’t wear my black sports bra as today I had  white shirt with me.  And it was sweaty (the sports bra, not the shirt).  There wasn’t time to go back home, so what’s a girl to do?

Luckily, much as I don’t like Tescos for many things, I do like the fact it opens 24 hours, is on my way to work, and stocks lingerie.  Racing there in my kit, I grabbed a likely underwear suspect and dashed to the till.  Changing in the loos, slapping on some slap and one deep breath later, I was ready to go – panic over!

Now I just hope I learn from this and don’t go on to forget my trousers/shoes/shirt one day.  Panic shopping is not good for the purse!!

 

(Not) in hot water May 29, 2008

For what might be a few weeks (the days drag without hot water, so I’ve no idea how long this has been going on), our boiler’s been on the blink.  Initially persuaded that our friendly gas man could fix it, Boy arranged a visit and nice gas man blew in some pipes, scratched his amazing barnet (very curly and thick long hair) and announced that it was fine.

For a day, we were back to the bliss of baths and easy washing up.  But then there it was again, the blinking light of evil at 50 degrees. No more showers for a while then.  The worst episode was me trying to have a bath last Sunday, after watching rugby in the rain.  Desperate efforts of boiling kettles, pans and saucepans resulted in a tepid puddle – not satisfying at all!

Boy then announced “I can fix it!” and proceeded to seek advice from our mate Bon-Bon who’s a gas man, who advised we should probably get Corgi in.  Balking at the prospect of paying out £300, Boy said “Fook that” and proceeded to order a replacement part for one of the bits which apparently always goes wrong.

It arrived, it didn’t fix it.

The next part of the saga is that the Boy has ordered another part, which he’s convinced will do the job.  At my tentative requests for a tradesman, he replied – “they haven’t got degrees, it can’t be that hard.  I’m an engineer, after all!!”

So with this mindless optimism and never-say-die attitude, we still find ourselves without hot water.  The bi product of this is I’m boiling the kettle to wash up, and going into work early for a shower.

I do bring some amusement to the early morning sports changing rooms cleaner though, who is bemused to see me popping in for a pre-work shower each day this week.  I must look like I’m really tight, refusing to heat my house or something.  She’s sweet though and sings whilst she works (errr, and whilst I’m in the shower – that sounds freaky now I’ve written it).  I’m hoping my visits don’t become a frequent occurance but with Beloved on the case, who knows?

Just thought – I must make sure I leave the house and travel a safe distance, when he announces he’s fixed it and switches it on….

 

Exterminate the daleks! May 29, 2008

I’ve just come back from a meeting at BBC TV centre in London, and unfortunately had to wait in reception for nigh on 20 mins before my meeting started, leaving me in hearing distance of some freaky promos.

They have these funky looking massive daleks in reception for Dr Who buffs, which shout out daleky phrases on occasion just to add to the sterile white and steel atmosphere.  Now, the first time this happened I thought, “how cute! Something for the kids doing the BBC tour, what a great idea.”

But, after 20mins of ‘exterminate’ and other blethery dalek phrases, I was ready to take a running aim and swing my hefty handbag in the face of these monstrosities.  I have never watched the new Dr Who so I can’t claim solidarity with a mission for saving the world in doing this, more like I am saving my own sanity.

Anyway, I decided against this as I’m wearing my new-ish boots today, which don’t have the best grip. Let’s face it, I’d look like a fool if I were to slip over (whilst running to batter a dalek)….

Cosmo? Check. Heels? Check. SATC here I come! May 28, 2008

SATC film is now released and I for one can’t wait to see it!

I haven’t sorted out when/who I’m going with yet; but I know when I do go to see it, I’m going to be in my best cocktail dress, skyscraper heels and perfectly coiffed.  I may have a sneaky cosmopolitan too!

Any girl who watched the TV series will know that we can all relate to some bits of every character.   The beauty of it is that we can empathise with the girls, aspire to be them (or have their shoe collection) and chuckle/gasp at the scenarios they get themselves into. 

 

I’d like to think I’m most like Charlotte (naieve, homely, sweet, arty) – but in reality I’m probably more like Carrie (disorganised, chaotic, comedy value) although without her figure, talent or wardrobe.  I’m definitely not like Samantha, I’m glad to say…

 

 

 

“An episode of instability” May 23, 2008

Not my words, and no – not referring to my state of mind either, thanks!

My physio’s assessment of Saturday night, when I twatted my gammy knee whilst moshing to Madness.

The good news is, it’s not as bad as I thought and although a set back, he reckons I can still avoid an operation.

The bad news, I’m not allowed to dance in high heels, so with a wedding party looming tommorrow night, I’m now off to scout out some suitably glam flat shoes to boogy in…

Note to self: stop gurning May 22, 2008

Facebook has been flooded with pics of our recent rugby tour, and I was agahst to see that i have chosen to pull a completely rank and random face whenever a camera was pointed in my direction!!  With The Big Day coming up next year, I must resolve to change this strange habit, for fear of gurning in my very own wedding photos!!

So, sometimes I pulled a face like Beaker:

 

Then, in others, I was more like the wide-mouthed Creature Comforts turtle:

 

But I’m glad that I haven’t resorted to proper gurns in any photos…yet:

 

 

Minibus mayhem, Madness Misery and more May 20, 2008

Rugby Tours usually involve a LOT of comedy moments, some drunk tearful episodes and a bit of bundling.  Last weekend’s 2008 tour to Whitley Bay in Newcastle, was no exception!

In previous years, we’ve literally had scrapes with minibus trips (I crashed one within 30mins of collecting it) – and this year was no different. This time, we were in the club bus and got it checked a few days before by a local garage, who told us to sort out a tyre, which we duly did (or so we thought).  On the trip up there, about 90 mins in, we were up the M1 and suddenly the bus started shaking. 

We were due a wee stop anyway so after we’d all piled in and out of the services in our dapper tour hats, we checked the tyres.  Only to find (gulp), one had a hole in it the size of a fist.   Being proactive and not keen on waiting for 4 hours for the AA to tow us, we set off again at a very slow speed, coming off at the next juntion.  One dodgy looking garage stop later, we were off to Aston Tyres to see Billy, who apparently, could sort us out.  Billy’s eyes widened as 14 women piled out of the minibus that drew up outside, swigging lager and cider (apart from the drivers of course!) and cajoling him to fix the bus.

Billy – what a star! The man is a leg-end and sorted the bus out for £40 in record time.  We were on our way again, but not before a photo opportunity with our new favourite tyre supplier!!

On arrival in Whitley Bay we realised we only need visit one street – that which we were staying on. OUr hotel was flanked on one side by a strip bar, and the other by the pub the Hairy Lemon (nice!) – we were in The Zone…

The usual mayhem soon descended, as we found ourselves walking for an hour to a fish and chip shop that was closed, playing beach olympics in the freeeeezing wind on a deserted beach, diving into the even colder sea water and singing rugby songs in a random local pub on saturday avo.  I was not keen however on the new drinking game, the “Finger of Fire” – involving sambuca, a lighter, and one’s own finger.

It was Saturday night that the tears struck, and I was the culprit! No sooner had Baggy trousers come on, than I was moshing on the dance floor – it was all too much for my dodgy knee, which promptly gave up.  Frustrated, in pain and facing the prospect of ANOTHER season out of rugby, the tears flowed down my pink glittery face (flamingo outfit, of course) for a good few songs following Madness. Boo it. 

After a few hugs, blowing my nose on my sister’s wings (owl outfit) and getting some trainers on, I was back on it and boogying slightly less manically for the rest of the night.  We stood out from the hen-party Police uniforms, in our wide array of “Birds” fancy dress (Thunderbird, Jail Bird and lady bird were in there, as well as Cuckoos and Parrots). 

Sensibly, I sat out of this year’s post-clubbing bundling fiesta, which involves forward rolls across a bed full of people, pile-ons and a bit of head bashing on radiators (not deliberately). 

Despite my fears, I lived through another rugby tour and what the heck – bring on 2009!

The Apprentice: Is post-mortem better than the real thing? May 15, 2008

If there’s one thing I love more than The Apprentice, it’s the ‘You’re Fired!’ programme on BBC 2 straight after the main event. 

Last night I quite literally laughed out loud for a good few minutes when Adrian Chiles pointed out how posh Rafe was; even down to his style of running – hilarious!! There’s always a comment on one of Margaret’s many telling looks as well; last night’s episode showed a wry smile as Lee talked about selling pants – had M got a pair on?

I also really like seeing the contestants as they are now, and watching how they deal with what are usually hideous comments from the panel (last week Jenny was lambasted).  Oof it makes you squirm sometimes!

Keep it up BBC 2 – as Lee would say: “That’s what I’m TALKING about!!”

 

Does Mother Hen click with drunken chicks? May 14, 2008

After a hilarious Hen weekend in a sodden, drenched Spanish resort (whilst the UK baked of course), my thoughts are turning to my own hen do next year sometime.  The Spanish excursion was a great laugh, a good bunch of girls came along and we all bonded over huge cocktails and girly chats.

So, how many people will be on mine?  Where will we go?  Activity or pampering? Crazy clubbing or beers and curry?  So many questions!

Then there’s another, more sensitive, question in the mix – Mum, or no Mum?

I spoke to Mother today and was telling her about the weekend just gone; and she quickly responded with some ideas of her own (pre-thought out no doubt).  Her first suggestion was a night out in Milton Keynes (where I work) – No.  Her second thought was camping – not a baaaad idea.  Then – she mentioned she could bring the caravan if we camp, therefore assuming, probably rightly, she’s coming along. 

Now, my Mum’s not a prude but I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with her witnessing drunken rugby songs, general rudeness expected on hen dos and a lot of drunk girls…But I also realise she probably wants to come along and celebrate with me.

So what’s a B2B to do?  Are two hen do’s the answer – one for drunks; one slightly tamer?  I’m on tour this weekend with the rugby girls, one of whom is my sis, so I think the first stop is to pick her brains…

I had no idea wedding preparation was sooo much about diplomacy and politics – there seems risk of offence at every turn with guest lists, duties on the day and who does what and who goes to what…

I feel I could take on international relations with Burma after all this!! 

Challenge Sis: Life Change #2 May 7, 2008

Spoke to my older sis last night who is planning a complete life change.  It’s her second, in the last few years, and  I can’t work out if she’s completely bonkers or entirely brave – probably a bit of both.

Sis worked for the BBC for over 10 years in London as a studio manager for the World Service, but then jacked it in, got a redundancy pay-out and had Life Change #1.  This involved moving to Carlisle, taking up a new outward-bound instructor job, working shifts at minimum wage, learning archery, climbing and kayaking, and buying a run-down building in France to transform into a gite with her other half. 

Surely this is enough of a challenge for one lifetime?

Not for big sis, she informed me last night she’s leaving her outward-bound job (to be fair, it barely pays enough to cover a week’s supply of value beans) – and her and her Boy are buying a wine merchants in Carlisle!

So, Life Change #2 will see Sis moving from a job where she’s had to take 14 over-excited Brownies on a rope walk to one where she’s a leading connoisseur and sales person on fine wines.  Cue an intensive wine course, a licensing thingy and a whole lot more enthusiasm. 

I don’t know anyone else with the balls to undertake not one, but two complete changes in their lives.  You gotta give it to the girl, she’s jumping in with both feet – I just hope the water’s warm!