I was having a gander through my blogroll on Bloglines and I read this post over at Confessions of a Nobody. I had myself only just perused my blog stats and chuckled at the Google search that had led one individual to my site:
funny pictures of mr motivator
I am nothing if not accommodating. So should you be in need of a funny picture of this fine specimen of a man, then here you go:
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TrackbackWorking with someone 6 years my junior is an education. I have learned a whole host of new phrases that the kids are using today:
To mug s.o. off vb. To take advantage of, or take liberties with, someone. Can be used as an aggressive question e.g. “Are you muggin’ me off?”
Blood n. A close friend or relative, can be used as a nickname. “You comin’ then, Blood?” Synonyms: Bruv and Cuz.
To buoy s.o. off vb. To get in s.o.’s way both literally or figuratively. Usually used as an aggressive question “Are you buoying me off?”
To tump s.o. in the boat vb. To hit someone in the face. Tump is derived from ’thump’. ‘Boat’ is derived from the Cockney Rhyming Slang - boat race, face, e.g. “I’m gonna tump that rude gal in the boat if she’s not careful”.
Yard n. House, residence, e.g. “Don’t make me come to your yard”
Bop 1. n. A long or complicated journey, usually taking a long time, e.g. “It was a proper bop”. Synonym: mission.
Bop 2. vb. To walk, to move from one place to another, to leave e.g. “I’m bopping”.
Sick adj. extremely good. Synonyms: heavy and bad
You can’t find some of these on the Urban Dictionary even, they are THAT with it.
Comments rss TrackbackI have not had the best start the week. For a start, I am fed up with walking into the office in the morning, to be met with little or no acknowledgement that I arrived. A cheery ‘morning’ from me gets a grunt from some, a whispered ‘morning’ back from my closest colleague and that’s it. It is the most depressing atmosphere at the moment, and being the ultra-sensitive soul that I am, I take it completely personally. I am just not feeling the love right now. This may have something to with the fact that I had been bitching over MSN about a certain ’situation‘. Or it may be just because it’s Monday and everyone is feeling blue. But still, I HATE it and it makes me want to pack my things and get the fug out of here.
I am also a little bit bummed that I have still only done one new thing this year - and that involved molesting some poor rams. It is almost a whole month into the year and that is all I have achieved??? Rubbish!
In brighter news, I have now caught up on Lost and it ROCKS. I cannot wait for it to return to our TV. Kate and Sawyer - aw! Jack seeing them - aw! On another island - eeek! Also, we go to Ireland on Saturday - which will probably be my New Thing No. 2 for 2007. More on this later!!!
I will leave you with a picture of me and my mum when I was little. We went to the Silver Jubilee parade in our village. I love this photo - mum is hiding something from me in her hand! The quality is not great as it is from a scanned photo that had water damage.
Comments rss TrackbackWorking at this place has its pros and cons..
Pros:
Cons
Not too much longer…..
Comments rss TrackbackReading other blogs can be an excellent form of inspiration and after visiting a site I haven’t read for a while, Charlotte’s Web, I have added two brand spanking new pages over there on the right-hand side. One is to record all my fantastic firsts for 2007. The other is to make a record of all the books I am reading, the books I have read and the books I want to read. Be sure to stop by periodically!
Comments rss TrackbackI am currently enjoying a whole host of TV shows, and since I cannot be bothered to keep up my TV blog, I thought I would share them with you here:
In addition to the above, we still start watching season 6 of 24 as soon as we are ccaught up on the last few episodes of season 5 that we missed. I will also be looking forward to Bones and Smallville which should be back on TV in Feb.
An essential part of the viewing experience are the fabulously snarky recaps brought to us my the mightly Television Without Pity. If you watch any of the shows they cover, I would highly recommend reading them. They also make a fantastic replacement if you can’t get to watch (I am talking you Urban Cowgirl!). Heroes is another new show that is coming to UK TV in February on the aforementioned SciFi channel….which means Erin recaps - yipeeee!!
Comments rss TrackbackEnjoying their day, originally uploaded by eurosys.
We had a lovely day on Saturday at Janneke and Nick’s traditional English wedding - the photos are on flickr. The food was delicious (lamb courtesy of her parent’s farm in Wales), the speeches were fun (and I came very close to winning the sweepstake which one of the ushers ran for how long the speeches would last) and the venues were lovely.
The celebrations for the wedding really started on the weekend of 5th-7th Jan when I drove over to the west of Wales to join the other girls for Janneke’s hen weekend. It was not your average, L-plate veiled, condom wielding, tiara and handcuff wearing affair that you usual find on the streets of Blackpool, Bournemouth and Brighton. There wasn’t a stripper, a stretch limo or copious amounts of alcohol. I didn’t even wake up on Sunday morning with a headache, let alone a full-on hangover. What we did have, though, was fun. And tons of it. There is always the feeling of slight trepidation when you go to these things, knowing that you only know the hen herself and maybe one other (which I did in the this case). The entire hen party was 16 in total - quite an impressive number. Luckily everyone was a peach. It was such a nice group of girls.
We arrived late on Friday night. I introduced myself to some of the party by driving down the lane which was leading up to the cottage (thinking I had gone the wrong way, I turned back down the single lane winding track). I met two cars coming up the other way, and the only option was for me to reverse back up the track without the aid of my side or rearview mirrors since it was pitch black behind and I couldn’t see the low wall on the righthand side or the cliff on the left! After a bit of negotiating with the wall (which luckily did not cause Zizou any permanent damage), I made it to the clearing at which point I fell out the car in relief to be greeted by Janneke.
At the cottage, her sisters had been busy getting things ready. Hot pea soup was on the stove for those who were hungry and introductions were made. Most of us had travelled quite some way to be there so bed beckoned.
In the morning we were given the option of a) going for a ’short’ walk which, and I quote, was “half an hour there and half an hour back” (this is NOT short) or b) lying in and having a leisurely breakfast. Only it wasn’t a real choice. It was a ‘do what you think is best’ choice. So we wellied up, pulled on our waterproof trousers and stepped out into the rain for our walk down to the beach and village. The scenery was just amazing. The walk back up the cliff was a challange but as there was a seven-month pregnant lady managing it I couldn’t really complain!
After drying off, we headed out to visit Janneke’s parent farm. I loved it there. Such cute animals.
I decided I wanted to be a farmer. Without the early starts, of course. Or the cold. Or the hard work. We had a tour of the donkeys’ barn, the cow shed (where a calf was born as we walked round) and then on to the new sheep shed where Janneke’s mum had made up some tables ready for some delicious pancakes and tea.
But first, we had a game to play. There were four rams lined in pens. We had to get into pairs and judge each ram on its merits according to the following criteria:
It was a hoot. I was paired with Janneke who was worried about not winning as her father would expect her to be able to do this with her eyes closed. Luckily we did win!
After the pancakes, we left to go to do some pottery for a couple of hours. I decided I didn’t want to be a farmer, I wanted to be a potter. It was so much fun. Like grown-up Playdoh. For the first hour, my group made Welsh dragons and then for the second hour, animals (I made a sleeping cat as it looked easy. It wasn’t).
We then headed back to the cottage to get ready for dinner. Before dinner, we played the Pants Game. We all brought a pair of knickers to the party and Janneke had to guess who had brought each pair. I actually made a pair of knickers by buying a plain white pair and some transfer paper. The logo said I [heart] Hussey. Mike Hussey is an Australian cricketer at whom Janneke and I cheered when we went to Lord’s on a corporate day. He was yummy and acknowledged our girlish squeals with the occasional nod or lift of the hand. We were in champagne-fueled heaven and it was a great day. Janneke clearly didn’t remember it though, and promptly thought Hussey meant hussy and was mildly offended! I gave the game away by saying ‘don’t you remember’… oh well.
We went to dinner at the village pub (picture sleepy traditional Welsh pub with sixteen girls arriving at once!). We had fun and wine and food. We went back to the house for a bit more wine then bed. Phew what a day!!! I did more that day that I have ever done in all the Januarys of my life added together!
The next morning, I had a bacon sandwich and then drove home, ready to collapse on the sofa with ricardo and a nice cup of tea.
Comments rss TrackbackI mentioned in my last post, I have been tagged for the first time by Urban Cowgirl, herself a tagged-for-a-meme virgin before she was tagged for this one. So here goes: Five things that you don’t know about me. Do not expect this to be particularly enlightening!
So, unless you have already done this (I have been too lazy to check your archives), now its your turn Jen, Contrary, Vicky and KidKate.
Comments rss Trackback Comments rss TrackbackAfter listening all day to the wind scream past our fifth floor window, and after seeing the police cordon off the streets around us to protect cars from flying building bits, I thought it would be a good idea to check my train company website to see if the trains were running ok. Turns out, not so much. Every train scheduled for the day had been cancelled with no news about whether any trains were running. I started getting that horrid panicky feeling I get when I think I have to stay up in London and not come home - I really can’t explain it. My colleagues seemed unfazed by the notion that without my trains, I am stranded 80 miles from where I live - my home, my things, my clean clothes, my toothbrush. I had several offers to stay with people at work, which I really appreciate, but if I don’t come home and get chance to unwind and purge myself of work and London, something just doesn’t feel right. So at 4.35pm I had enough - I left to chance my luck at Marylebone Station.
As I approached the tube turnstile at Bank, my heart plopped when I saw that the two lines I use showed ’severe delays’. But it turned out that these delays were non-existent. I got to Marylebone in damn good time. By 5.10, I emerged from the tube station, into the main concourse and scanned the board for my stop. Bingo! Train at Platform 1 leaves at 5.30. This is where my luck started to falter. I got on the train. Just. There are people rammed into every space on the train - not unusual in the tube but certainly not expected on my train which is a fairly long distance service. I get disapproving looks for deigning to occupy space which would otherwise be taken up by newspapers being read. Still, I pay over£4500 a year to travel on this line - I think I deserve to be there more than the Evening Standard.
The train actually left at 5.15, so I am glad I actually got on straight away (I had contemplated buying a magazine for the journey - how foolish!). The guy behind me is persevering with his magazine. There is just no way he cannot tell he is knocking it against my head every minute or so. In case he isn’t sure, I passive-aggressively huff (loudly) then smooth my hair down, which knocks his magazine in the process. Ha! That’ll learn ‘im. Except it doesn’t. The carriage is so crowded, I cannot lose my cool. I cannot even politely ask him to stop because this is on a train in Britain and we just don’t DO that. Especially if I was rude enough to crash the party.
The wanker finally got the message (well, I did mutter ‘for fuck’s sake’ in a pained and desperate way under my breath - he was bound to react) and he found a way to read his magazine without making me want to rip off his balls. After an hour standing with practically no space, not enough to even remove my lovely warm wool coat that I detested right at that second, we pulled into the first stop. We made way for the lucky ones who get to escape the cargo hold. I am standing in the vestibule area of the train and there are about 7 men standing in the aisle along. A seat is vacated. I don’t even see the seat, it’s that far away. And as a seasoned commuter - my spare-seat radar is pretty faultless.
And then a miracle happened. I am asked if I want the seat. Somehow, I managed to get in the carriage with seven goddamn angels. That’s the only explanation. Because there is no reason on this earth that I can think of that would explain why a hot, tired man would willingly give up the chance to sit when the nearest woman is seven people away. Thinking about it now, perhaps there is just one angel, who suggested they ask me. And the other men were too ashamed to say, “screw her, I’m sitting down”. I like the first version better.
I started to ask if they really didn’t want to sit and one of the angels whispered “don’t ask, just sit!”. Wise words, indeed. I thanked each one - I think I may have said the words “I could love every one of you”, such was my gratitude (and I am a bit glad that none of the tried to take me up on that) and I sat my fat, hot ass down, laptop bag, heavy wool coat and all, with a sheepish face and a warm, glowy heart. God bless the seven commuter angels of the 5.15.
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