Worst week of the week award? September 18, 2009

Anyone remember the Worst Week of the Week award, awarded weekly, on a week by week basis? It was part of an ace Radio Two comedy prog. Well, I reckon this week I am a contender.

It all started Sunday, with a hangover…

Strike One.

A quarter of the way into a rugby game on Sunday, I got an almighty blow to the head and immediately hit the floor, with an egg sized lump rapidly growing on my bonce. Whoever hit me, did it pretty hard but I have a concrete skull so after 10mins of ice packing, I felt bullish and fine, so went back on to play. I later realised I had concussion when I got nausea and pins and needles in my face whilst at work the next day!

Strike Two.

When I went back on the pitch on Sunday, no sooner had I got the ball than I went on a little dash on the attack. It was going well, I’d beaten one defender and just had the full back to get round. My sidestep was planned but on execution – crunch! The old familiar battered knee re-emerged. Two years on from my grade 2 ACL tear, I am still getting gip. It was sore beyond belief and I had to hobble off, whilst cursing quite loudly in anger. That was the end of that game, and my knee’s not a great deal improved five days on, worst luck.

Strike Three.

Yesterday lunchtime whilst driving back to work, I had the misfortune of meeting Neanderthal man. Whilst going along a dual carriageway, a white van driver decided to cross the road over to an opposite slip road, and basically chuntered straight into my lane. I somehow managed to swerve round him but the back end of the car got scuffed. On exiting my car, in order to exchange details, the driver emerged as an angry Scotsman, fervently gesturing and shouting obscenities. I didn’t understand the offensive language until I’d asked him to repeat it, as he really had a broad accent.

Anyhoo, after trying to blame me, Neanderthal man got back in his van and drove off without giving me his details. I managed to get the license plate and when he parked up just a bit away from me I drove up again, stayed in my car (wasn’t sure if he’d get physically aggressive – yikes) and asked him again for his contact details. He begrudgingly gave me a name and business, but claimed he didn’t have a phone. So now we’re going through police, insurance and all sorts to try and get it sorted.

On the upside, I’ve had my three bad things happen now so surely my luck must be turning. But in the meantime, can anyone beat this for a rubbish week?

Northampton General Hospital? Nil points December 10, 2008

So this morning I got up 0650 and sleepily microwaved and ate a big bowl of porridge.  This isn’t my normal behaviour but with a nose operation in the afternoon, I was told not to eat anything after 7am – and frankly, I struggle to go a couple of hours without a scooby snack so an early rise was essential.  After a quick shop to get some easily edible essentials, and resisting the urge to drink anything, I was off to Northampton General in a cab, psyching myself up for a nose operation.

After checking myself in with the ward receptionist I took a seat in the dismal waiting room (6 skanky chairs) and flicked through some April 2008 magazines.  A very excitable young boy (6 years old maybe?) was giggling heartily at his mum’s jokes and taking great glee in doing his spelling tests, bless him.  On the other side of the room, which had a whiff of bleach about it, a larger lady showed us just why she needs a nose operation as she sloped into sleep and started snoring incredibly loudly.  Various nurses drifted in and out of the room looking for patients (gone missing?) and double checking who we were and what list we were on (err, shouldn’t you know that?).

After ages (it was ages, probably over an hour) a sheepish looking nurse came through and began by checking who we were (again) and then saying “unfortunately…”. I knew this was bad, but surely she wasn’t going to call off my operation for the second time?

 

You guessed it, she was.  It fell to her to tell us that there was, once again, no room at the inn.  Poor woman, she did look really apologetic but I was no happy shopper this afternoon.  Having rearranged work meetings, socials and beavered away to get ready for recuperation, I was not happy at the prospect of waiting again for another operation date.  Much as having my nose operated on is not a prospect I relish, it was worse to psyche myself up and then be let down.  Again.

 

Having rung the waiting list lady (another apologetic person. They must spend most of their working days apologising, poor staff!), I was told that not many people want these operations in the run up to Christmas time (no shit Sherlock!  Christmas parties with black eyes is not the best combo!!).  What this means though is that I might get listed again before Christmas.  Which means I might have black eyes for some parties but what the heck, I just wanna get on with it now. 

 

As much as I appreciate that the NHS is trying desperately to cram everyone in as soon as possible in the hope that people will clear beds quickly, this policy is SO not working.  For the second time, I’ve had to rearrange my life, get work sorted out, have people take time off work to pick me up and look after me, and psyche myself up for what has turned out to be a non-event.  I even took ‘before’ pictures of my nose this morning!

 

On the other hand, I can’t worry about what’s out of my control, so rubbish as it is, I just have to wait again for Northampton General to sort itself out.  I believe that the third operation date can’t be cancelled, or if it is I go private, so here’s hoping my face will be smashed up soon!!!

OK people, the fun’s over: John has to go November 17, 2008

Another strictly fest on Saturday with the girls was muchos fun, I loved it and the highlight for me was Austin’s tango (he rocks!) and Jodie’s quickstep – both fabulous!!

However, Sunday’s results show was not fun in a bun as once again John Sargeant was kept in, meaning that the excellent Cherie got knocked out. John is very witty and funny and yes he’s charming, but he does not deserve to be in the competition at this stage.

He is right that democracy rules and the public have their right to keep in who they like, and the results are proving that the public are getting it wrong, in my view. Strictly is a dance competition, not a popularity contest, although I recognise that, of course, characters and loveability have a part to play.

Part of the problem this year is that apart from John, no other celebs are invoking strong feelings amongst the audience. They are all competent and good (apart from John), they are all decent and nice (Christina especially so), there is no wild competition or stand out leaders. This even surface to the show means that John really does stand out with his wit, charm and disastrous dancing. I think this is what’s behind it – people have really taken to John, and there’s even a Sargeant’s Charming Army formed.

Having said all of this, I have to appeal to all Strictly viewers who have voted for John to stop now. Great people going out makes a mockery of the programme and I for one am not enjoying John any more – I am watching him to see what mistakes and slip ups he’s making, not how much he’s improving or getting into performing the dance. The judges are at the end of their tethers, and so am I. Sargeant, lovely teddy though he is, has to go.

UPDATE – 20 November – yesterday, John bowed out of SCD.  I’m quite cross at him for this – my problem was with the public voting to keep him in, but he’s now gone against his fan base and all those people rooting for him (misguidedly) by exiting in this way.  Louise Bolotin’s blog on it hits the mark…

who knows when my nose job will be? November 14, 2008

Following yesterday’s optimistic post about my nose job, I’ve just been told by Northampton General Hospital that Monday’s operation is cancelled as there’s no beds.

It’s good they’ve contacted me today rather than Monday but I am still mightily pissed off.  For one, I was psyched up to go under.  For two, I’ve been doing a big handover document for work. I’ve also held off meetings and booked them in my diary for when I was to be due back at work.  Now all this might change.

They have no idea when it might be rescheduled in for, but said they “hope it will be before Christmas”.  Nice! Thanks! So now, my op might be the day before my Christmas do, say, or a couple of days before I’m due to go to Gloucester to watch the rugby. It’s just Soooooooooooooooo inconvenient!!

Still, can’t do anything about it, so I can’t worry about it I guess.

Blogging as therapy? October 7, 2008

Blog therapy?

Yesterday I drafted a vitriolic blog about a rugby game I’d played at the weekend, spilling out my anger and frustration which had carried over from the match.

I’d saved it, fully intending to add more bile and then post it today.  But today, I’m feeling calmer.  I’m thinking, what’s the point of posting it now? I don’t feel that way so much any more.  I’m not so angry or venomous.  I don’t know why, but it has subsided.

So is it a wasted post?  Should I have pressed publish straight away?  Or, has the act of blogging in draft form provided a therapeutic remedy to my gripe?  Would it have been a case of ‘blog in haste, repent at leisure’?

Suicide and Smelliness: two acts of selfishness in one day October 2, 2008

Today I was down in London again for a meeting with the BBC, but contrary to last time I was there when I had a moment of hilarity hearing “Heaven is a Place on Earth” blaring from a pensioner’s mobile phone, this afternoon was a nightmare trip back to MK.

Arriving at Euston at 1230, the concourse was extraordinarily busy so I grabbed an M&S sarnie and tried to work out what was going on. Turned out, someone had chosen to chuck themselves under a train earlier that day so the network was in meltdown. There were no trains going out of Euston whatsoever.

Now I think I am generally a tolerant person who can empathise, and I’m sure this person who committed suicide was in the depths of despair and perhaps not thinking straight. But for blinking heck’s sake, why not just have a thought for others as you approach death? The hundreds and hundreds of people who had their journeys wrecked were not thinking happy thoughts but rather pouring hatred on the selfish person who had killed themselves. Hardly the vibes to enter the afterlife with, are they?

Having read Anna Karenina, I wondered if jumping under a train seemed to some people to be a more dramatic, poetic way to end their lives, rather than just taking a potent drug cocktail or hanging themselves.

Anyhoo, as a consequence, I has to traipse off to St Pancras to get a train to Bedford, assured there would be a bus at the other end to take me on to MK (St Pancras is completely ace, by the way). The train to Bedford bit worked, but on arrival in true “Computer says no” fashion, I was answered with “Dunno anyfink about a bus” when inquiring about my onward travel. A helpful passenger pointed me in the right direction so I walked into Bedford town centre (as dire as I remember from last time I was there) and caught the bus to MK from there.

Sigh of relief when on the bus was quickly replaced by a sharp intake of breath as a man going for the smelliest pits in the world award chose to sit near me. Then he moved to sit right behind me. Have you ever sat near someone with proper, disgusting, BO? Real BO that clings in your throat? It was rank. I couldn’t move as the bus was off and there weren’t any empty seats nearby I could sneak into. To top it all, we then ran into traffic and despite holding my breath as much as possible and turning the air con on full whack, there was no shifting the stench. What’s wrong with a wash now and then? Surely someone can tell when they REEK? Another act of selfishness for the day (and I could visualise myself appearing on Grumpy Old Women with all this anger…).

Arrival at MK was like returning to paradise after visiting hell – I was so relieved to get off that bus and back to normality at the clean, hygenic office. Yes – I was very pleased to get back into work.

Things that are annoying me today September 11, 2008

As you can tell from the title, this post will be a bit of a rant. I feel I’m being quite negative lately, sorry about that as I’m usually a sunny optimistic person, but sometimes you gotta let off steam, ain’t cha!  Most of these are petty and silly but then it’s those kinds of things that wind me up…so here goes.

1. People who don’t pay their tea money then keep drinking stuff I’ve paid for.

2. People who I leave a message for who don’t call me back.

3. Nicky Campbell on Five Live breakfast.  He just annoys me full stop.

4. Slackers. I can’t say any more on that.

5. I’ve got to Five and run out.  That actually makes me feel better as I thought I’d have a list as long as my arm.  Aaah, and now some lush Oasis tune has come on to Last.fm.  I guess today is getting better and better…

And to continue the upbeat vibe I’m ending on, tonight I’ve got lovely book/wine club with my buddies – we have been reading R.J.Ellory’s A Quiet Belief in Angels which has been totally excellent. I recommend!

Act in haste, repent at leisure. July 7, 2008

I’ve just made a mistake.  Some woman left me a comment on this blog entry, and basically slagged me off – and I deleted it.   I really wished I hadn’t.

The blog entry is where I consider whether my Mother should be on the hen do.  It’s something to consider as many of my mates are lager drinking rugby girls, and the usual willy-related hen jokes might wear thin on my Catholic, naieve Mother.  So, I am being a good person in considering her.
Well, the message I got in this comment was not seeing me in a good light at all!  I paraphrase, but basically the message sender was saying “how rude to consider cutting your Mom out of your hen do, after she’s been working her butt off to pay for said wedding”.  Rude. And ignorant – you don’t know me, lady!!

Now, if my Mum was paying for my entire wedding, she would of course be on the hen do without question.  In addition, she would get first say on the guest list and the style of the whole caboodle.  She’d also be re-mortgaging, and probably having a nervous breakdown. No, scrap that. Definitely having a nervous breakdown.  As it happens, we’re paying for most of the bash ourselves, lady, so shut ya face!

Anyhoo, the reason I’m annoyed I deleted the offending comment is because I acted too hastily, in a moment of crazy, deluded goodwill.  The commenter sent another message after her first one saying delete it, cos she didn’t want to offend the bride.  Too late, girlfriend!!  Having mulled it over, I now wish I’d hung onto the message.  And possibly even published it.  My mate was brave enough to do this on her blog and it sparked a whole rush of comments and new readers – you see, hate mail can be good!!

If the face doesn’t fit… July 2, 2008

The news that Imperial College withdrew its offer to a potentially brilliant medical student because he was convicted of burglary years ago whilst in his teens, is something I find really depressing. This stuffy institution says it wants to uphold the ‘trust’ of this profession but I find the decision completely short sighted and a sad reflection on what we are saying about who gets a second chance in life, and who doesn’t.

Majid Ahmed freely admits he made a mistake and has done more than most teenagers to put things right. He’s volunteered with charities, changed schools and has worked hard to become one of the brightest pupils from that school. The conviction was for burglary in 2005 – a very personal and upsetting crime for the victim, no doubt – but, it’s now spent, which I think should mean that it now can’t be held against him.

In past jobs I’ve worked with offenders in prisons and ex-offenders on community projects and have had very frank talks with them about their past, their crimes and their hopes for the future. One guy had been an armed robber using guns, and he talked to me about how it actually felt to pull a trigger. It was chilling, but honest – and it was powerful – the talks he gave to kids about gang culture really opened their eyes and, we hoped, put some of them off that path in life. The armed robber went on to get a degree whilst in prison, and on his release he was going to University to do a PhD in Philosophy. I didn’t come away from the prison thinking he was innately evil or couldn’t be trusted. He was someone who had taken a wrong turn and made a bad choice in life. He’d learnt from it.

Ahmed’s crime was nowhere near as violent as many of the prisoners I worked with, but like many I came into contact with, he’s been honest and learnt from this one bad choice. His isolation makes me worry about what we’re doing, as a society.

People seem to talk about giving others a second chance to improve themselves, reform and contribute to society – and then we deny them the opportunity when they are willing to do this. What’s that saying about us? “Sorry, but you might be a yobbo – you’re not coming in”. Imperial’s attitude is antiquated and discriminatory. I wouldn’t have any problems if I came across Ahmed as a doctor – he seems bright and honest about himself. Can those powers that be really assume that he’s going to duff up patients and nick stuff off wards? How can they be sure that someone with a squeaky clean past won’t turn out to be a mass murderer? The fact is, they can’t.

Rather than preserving trust in the medical profession, I think Imperial have just gone to prove that the profession is a ‘closed shop’. If your face doesn’t fit, you’re not in.

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)….