Ho hum.

Dear colleagues

As a result of the power shutdown scheduled for Saturday 30 June there will be two periods of disruption to IT services while systems are switched between electrical supplies. This will affect all IT services at Hull and Internet access at Scarborough during the following times:

Friday 29 June 2007 between 12.30 pm and 2.30

It's like they read my mind *sob* don't take it awaaaaay!

Hovering a mouse over the green strip at the end reveals my favourite personality trait.

Clearly it's a very busy day here. Again. It's very cold. I have a lot of work to do. I prefer browsing for...anything.

I think I might be on the verge of a McDonald's.

Fact:

The most dreaded household task is also the most satisfying, and that is defrosting the freezer. The correct method for doing this is, without question, the way your dad did it.

*fires up the hairdryer*

Ahhhh, it's been so long!

I am officially installed in the new office. Ironically, since handing in my assessment form for a regrading to a higher pay scale in light of my extra work, I seem to have been instantly downgraded to Reception Bitch. An old guy came in to transfer our old phone number to this building and I told him the line didn't seem to work at all, just beeped. Apparently, I don't have to worry about things like that, my job is to "sit there and look good". Well (a) I don't look good, I couldn't be bothered to shower this morning, and my chin has a big spot that is threatening to mimic impetigo, and (b) you'll take the call about the next dead student, will you?

I've been given a long list of things to do today, mainly calculations for poor students. However, there has been one main area of debate since we moved in two days ago. The toilet. Thus, I have so far drawn up the following:

Attempting to follow Danny Wallace's 'Yes' experiment is producing problems.

Biscuit?
Turkish delight?
More turkish delight?
Finish it off!
A bhuna?! Have a madras!
More rice?
Do you think he'd be better off in a bigger cage? I think you should get a bigger one.
You should definitely do your MA.
I think you should have driving lessons next year.

Argh, stop!

On that note, the university campus is closing, and I'm being sent home. Evacuate! Joy, I get to wade knee high through 'muddy' water. Wish me luck!

Bag of shredding x 13 bags of shredding + endless boxes of the stuff = I have a fucking headache

I've just finished my application to have my salary regraded onto the next scale. I printed it out, held it aloft, and yelled "AVAST, here be gold", just because it felt right. And then a pirate walked in, and I really wish I was kidding. Toy sword, big rings, the works. Smelt like one too. Very polite though.

Firstly, it's very important I share this knowledge: if anyone tootles down (up? just where are we?) to Hull, and goes to Zest on Newland Avenue, it is imperative you have one of their homemade pizzas. They're enormous, they're delicious, and they're a fiver. Handy moneysaving/bellyfilling tip for you all there. I can't believe I've lived here - and near there - as long as I have, without going to Do Pizza in such a thrifty manner. Marvellous.

I went there with the 'Nice' housemate and the 'Vegan' Housemate, who, now that 'Normal' housemate has moved out for inconvenient end of tenancy reasons, I am getting along with. Quite well, in fact. I don't like it one bit. Well, I've always gotten along with the Vegan. The Nice one...umm, not so much. She's so sickly nice and seems so kind, bu she's actually quite arrogant, and shudders at men kissing (feel my wrath, bint).

It will be very strange in August with just me and the Normal flatmate in the new flat. No doubt she will continue to be The One That Never Empties The Plug Of Ridiculously Long Hairs, And Always Without Fail Leaves Cereal Bowl On The Side Every Morning Until Someone Else Washes It. Not to worry though, as I will counteract by being The One That Never, Ever Takes The Rubbish Out, a role I have played quite happily for four or so years. At least we'll be able to talk to each like we're deaf (I don't mean shouting) without anyone giving us "how un-PC" looks. It's really not as un-PC as it sounds, honest.

Speaking of the new flat, I will offer these monies... *counts*... £11.27, to anyone who can (a) pack everything fo me, and (b) offer me a place to live for a month so I don't have to move home for all of July *sob*. I have the first week off work (nothing at all to do with Ex Ex being home that week before she buggers off to Nepal - again - for 6 months), but then I have to travel from Grimsby to Hull everyday, which sucketh almighty. Then I have a week off, in which I may visit my oldest friend in London. Thn I have to travel for another week. Then I don't work August, and move into new flat.

Hang on, why am I complaining? A week in the company of She I Love, 5 days at work, a week of London shenanigans, 5 days at work, and off in August. No rent to pay until late August...no rent ever charged by parents...free food, washing done, and broadband...woohoo! Boo hiss boo to the 90 minute bus journey every morning and evening (and the minor irritation of having to live with my family), hurray to money saving!

...Ah.

Boo hiss boo to the MA I've decided I'm going to do which will consume all of my money and leave me destitute, overqualified and unemployable!

A wonderful link there to the reason I'm going to bite the proverbials and do the MA I want to do, and that is because Ex bought me Danny Wallace's 'Yes Man' for my birthday, and I've just read it, and it's hilarious, and if saying yes can get him to be head of development at the BBC and marrying an Australian girl, then god dammit I'm going to do the same and see where it gets me. I hereby embrace the power of Yes. Yes, I will move home for the summer. Yes, I will get a new flat. Yes, I will do my MA. Yes, I will send a parcel of Her stuff back to her instead of carrying it round for another year. Yes, I will take Dyson the Plec back to Pets At Home!

For Dyson is NOT A PLEC, he is a goddamn LOACH, only apparent now that he has grown a bit and is getting a red dorsal fin. He is very lovely, but he is now compeltely useless, and I paid for a useful plec, not a loach that shits a lot. Yes Power!

A biscuit? Yes please!

And yes, I will ignore that NOBODY has noticed I've dyed my hair =(

"Welcome back to Big Brother. Now, the girls have been crying out for more men...are you ready for the newest addition to the house?"

*loud whoops and waving of 'I AM HERE, NOT AT WORK!' banners*

"Let's hear it for Tom, everybody!"

*more whoops, and some boos for good pantomimic effect, the crazy bunch*

"Now, Tom is a Dark Lord. He prefers to be referred to as Voldemort. A large proportion of the community are terrifed of him and dare not speak his name. He loves well-tailored robes and blasting people out of his way with a wand. A wand, ha! Tom says his dislikes include wannabe it-girls that walk around in minishorts complaining they have fat legs, and people weeing in the shower. His favourite cheese is Caerphilly."

Ex Ex says:
what words did you want to have with me?
Me says:
not important
Ex Ex says:
no
talk to me
Ex Ex says:
well i know it's stupid but i feel like ive done something wrong!
i text u twice last week and u never replied [THIS, INCIDENTALLY, IS A LIE - GUILT TRIPPING WORKS WITH HER THOUGH]
Ex Ex says:
oh god
im really sorry [SEE?]
loads has been goin on in my life the past few weeks [LIKE, YOU'RE SEEING SOMEONE AND HAVEN'T TOLD ME? JUST GUESSING]
im really sorry
ive been rubbish again [OK STOP NOW BECAUSE I DIDN'T ACTUALLY TEXT YOU AND NOW I FEEL BAD...]
Me says:
it's ok it wasn't important
Ex Ex says:
but you are important
have i mentioned my charity idea to you yet?
Me says:
no
Ex Ex says:
i plan to set up a charity
and i was wondering if you'd like to be a trustee?
Me says:
hmmm
keep talking
Ex Ex says:
its to help educational establishments in developing countries
Me says:
oh that's so u
Ex Ex says:

and eventually i want to fund the work the charity does by organising gap year style trips at affordable prices for under-priviledged kids here in the UK
but obv this is gonna take lots of time
and effort
Me says:
obviously
Ex Ex says:
and i want my very best friends to be the trustees
you are one
so please?
Me says:
it's a stupidly good idea and you should know by now i'd do anything for you so of course i will [WHAT WITH ME BEING UNQUENCHABLY IN LOVE WITH YOU, STILL]
Ex Ex says:
thanks so much
love you
Me says:
love you too [WELL I DO]
Ex Ex says:
best friend [FINE]
Me says:
naturally
do i get to do bossing about?
Ex Ex says:
you get to help make decisions
and as the charity grows you may get to boss about yes
Me says:
that'll do for me
this is a far better idea than your last plan of becoming a prostitute
Ex Ex says:
escort!!

The words finger, little and wrapped come to mind. And don't I still love it *sigh*

Please just stop raining.

Today promises to be cold, damp and miserable in every respect.

My boss has just been told her mum's died, and has gone home, so now I'm alone, and sad for her, and not in the mood for talking to people.

I have a leaky shoe and my sock is wet.

Everyone who has come to the office has preceded their stupid questions and enquiries with "isn't it wet out?". Perhaps I look like I actually live in the office. Maybe it's my crazy, slept-at-my-desk hair. Oh no, wait, it's because I walked to work in the rain, cretin, I am FULLY AWARE of the weather!

Like clockwork, two days after a heavy downpour, our roof leaks. The room ends up smelling of cabbage, and the cleaners decide to counteract the smell with industrial strength 'cranberry' air freshener. Just thinking about this is making me retch. I can't wait to get back after the weekend. I can't wait to move to the new office in a few weeks. But most of all, I can't wait until lunch.

Who stole June?

I'm not sure of the purpose of this one at all...

You Are Beef

You're big, burly, and maybe even a little stinky. And no one's going to come between you and a good steak. And you've probably never met a vegetable you like, unless fries and ketchup count.

From: NT [mailto:person@email.com]
Sent: 25 January 1999 01:56
To: helpfulservice@ourinstitution.ac.co.uk
Subject: help with transport costs

Dear sir/madam

our daughter is due to start her course at the uni in sept.
we live in xxxxxxx and wondered whether there would be any assistance towards transport costs using her own car, either towards fuel or perhaps bridge toll concessions, or if you could advise us of who to contact.
thank you in anticipation of your reply

Forwarded to me from another department. Better late than never, eh?

Replied anyway!

That small ping occured at some point on Saturday afternoon while I sat fishing with my dad.

The pond looks a little greener than the last time.

No carp this time. Dad managed a rud the size of one of my goldfish after 2 hours, then pulled out two more. I managed three, including a lovely slimy tench, bigger than dad's best effort :-) When Dyson gets too big, I have every intention of releasing him in this pond. There aren't any catfish in here and maybe he will become enormous and be a Catfish of Legend. Hopefully he won't eat all the existing stock.

It was a beautiful sunny day. The field next to us had eight young horses in - one with flatulence - which entertained me for ten minutes. There were young ducks that had grown all their adult feathers but still followed mum, making noises like puppies and not quite daring to venture from the reeds to get the bread I threw at them. It was very quiet and calm.

The sudden ping was that I was quite happy with how things are right now, the things that matter anyway.

I may have a boring job that barely pays enough to live every month...
But I don't have the problems faced by half the people that I see on a daily basis. When I'm a newly single parent, with three children under ten, a mortgage my ex alcoholic husband won't contribute to anymore, I'm trying to pay CCJs and 26k of debt, and I'm training full time to be a nurse, then I'll have problems. My employer is flexible, and even if the people with kids have priority on taking time off, it's rare I ever have to change my plans because of work.

I may live in Hull...
But as cities go, it could be worse. It's cheap living, even if it isn't exactly luxurious. We don't have problems faced by other cities, for example, gun crime. There may not be much greenery in the city but if you have a car/the inclination to sit on a bus for an hour, you can get to the surrounding areas, which are nice for walks. (Note: I do not have a car, nor bus inclinations, but the option is there for me if I can ever be bothered).

I may not have a bustling social life and 500+ friends...
But the friends I do have will listen to me, even if I never see most of them. People never know how to take me. I seem to manage to offend people, or they think I'm weird, but there are other people who do take me with a pinch of salt and I love them for it, else I'd be quite a lonely figure. I seem to have two extremes with people - either very attached to them, or 'fine, if you can't be bothered then get fucked, whatever'. I would rather have a few friends that know me than be the person that everyone thinks they know.

I may be single...
But if I'm not with anyone then I don't have to worry about ever going through a break up again. I can't handle it, it destroys me. I'm very obsessive and dependant on other people for emotional support and stability and if anything goes wrong I take it very personally. I am determined that never again will I cut myself anywhere over what another person has said or done to me. I do it too often and it acheives nothing but further guilt and sadness.

I may have to move home for all of July...
But at least I have a family I can go home to. My sister and I will either get on like a house on fire, or kill each other, but at least I've got her. My parents treat me like I'm still sixteen, comment on what I wear (lately I look like a builder, apparently), comment on my job, on money, on what I eat, on friends, on everything, and it drives me insane. But, I know they will always be there. I have a dad who will drop everything and drive me somewhere if I need him to, will drive me back to Hull when I visit for the weekend, will pay at the supermarket if I need to stock up, will happily let me go fishing with him even though I ask stupid questions. Mum worries a lot, and has issues that she won't even acknowledge having, let alone resolve, and we all worry about her, but she will also make sure that my sister and I are looked after, however old we get. Our rooms are always kept nice - even if they are how she wants them, not how we like them - and we've never been asked for a penny in rent, because it's home. I'm not spoilt, because we're not well off, but I'm lucky.

This doesn't stop me thinking about the negative parts, but I'm slowly lifting myself out of the negativity and realising that most of those things are disatisfaction. I feel I've missed the boat on some things already. I don't know what will make me satisfied and I hope something will click one day. Or 'ping', I prefer the pings.

Excellent, it's Friday that means I can go home early, and even more so today, as I have martyred myself by 'working through lunch' while everyone goes out, leaving me in the excellent position of having only 1 hour 45 minutes left of my working day.

I did take yesterday off in revenge for them leaving me on my own all day last friday, but that is neither here nor there. They think I had a sore throat, but I know the truth - I couldn't face getting out of bed to get wet in the shower, and couldn't go to work with vile hair, so what was I to do?

I didn't waste my day of course, oh no. I ate a chocolate muffin for breakfast, then accompanied an equally skivicious flatmate (note: it is unlikely that 'skivicious' is even a word, let alone the correct one, and I am aware of this) to Mecca Pets at Home.

After arguing with her over whether I should buy another goldfish (oh he was lovely, black and gold, I called him Rocky), I decided to rebel anyway, and purchased Dyson.

Right in the middle. *squint*.

Now Dyson is, clearly, a very small catfish (sorry, pleco). That green orb like thing is an algae wafer pressed upon my by a very eager girl who seemed very impressed with herself that she knew what they ate at all. Quite frankly, so was I.

Dyson has not gone near these wafers, and instead he shimmies all over the rocks and appears to be eating slime, although there shouldn't be any slime, as I bought the rocks after him. The goldfish think it's Christmas and are gorging themselves on algae goodness which I rather doubt will be helping their poo levels. So, I'm trying to find out just what the hell a pleco this size eats. Google is failing me in this respect. My pen was hovered over a notepad ready to scribble down advice, but glancing down I see all I have written is 'cucumber'. Not especially useful.

Dyson was not the only purchase of the day. I did spend an extortionate amount on rodenti extraordinari.

Super Hans the hamster, who has tripled in size in a week, enjoys his new climbing apparatus, if only because it allows him to make kamikaze leaps from the cage while my attention drifts to the Big Brother Banshees for a millisecond, resulting in a thrilling chase behind the back of the coffee table, into the Christmas tree box, down a tube of Christmas wrapping paper, ending with a very undignified plop back into the cage when I tip the wrapping paper vertically and shake him out. Bad boy.

Wow. I've used the word Christmas three times in one blog. Almost six months to go!

Boring boy from Manchester:

"Is a turtle an animal? Isn't it a fish?"

I called him a c**t. I couldn't help it.

Three years ago today I suddenly became very happy indeed.

When we sat on the top of the bus home, she kissed my fingers, and it made me shiver. I still shiver when I think about it. I think everyone should have small memories like this. It reminds me that although it all ended so, so badly, it started so blissfully well (as things tend to do), and I will always have that little shiver as a memory, along with the others. I don't think it will ever fade.

Happy anniversary baby. Or maybe not, seeing as I haven't called you that for seven months.

I had thought today would be hard for me, but actually, it feels ok.

I dislike monday stress, it induces serious biscuit dependence (four!). Somebody has been bad and claimed for our hardship fund when they're probably bringing in more money than me. Ahh the nursing grapevine - they really are all naughty. Unfortunately this will now mean phone calls, which I hate, and polite letters, which I can do - hurray for that useful degree in English.

I also have greasy hair due to an ongoing 7.30am shower battle with a flatemate. My alarm goes off in good time but by the time I've sat on my bed for 10 minutes - the usual itch/burp/fart routine - she's in it, for half an hour. So I go to sleep again and get to work late, looking like shit, and moaning I'm hungry as I can't remember the last time I knew breakfast on a weekday.

I also have two chin spots. Most distressing start to the week.

Had a nice random weekend at home. A friend I've known for 15 years was up from London for about 48 hours and pleasingly spent most of it with me, which is rare. London sounds busy and hectic and scary. I do not envy her lifestyle. She keeps asking me to go and visit, which I would like to do, but on the condition I can just do touristy things and lay in a park. That I can cope with. No 'trendy' things. I'd feel like one of those country bumpkin girls of old, that would stay with rich relatives, go to elaborate balls in their best poplin gowns, and find themselves stared at by the elite girls with feathers in their hair. Or something.

As part of the weekend we got tiddly in the village pub and I thought it would be a very good idea to text Party Fish Boy and ask him to join us, having not seen him since January. Later, huddled in a toilet cubicle (as girls tend to do when they have anything to say about a boy), I confirmed that yes I do still like him oh rather very much. I cannot stress how strange this is. If I fancy a man, he is either:

Gordon Ramsay,
Johnny Depp, especially as
Captain Jack Sparrow,
Jake Gyllenhaal,
Mike Barnes from Hollyoaks, or
Gay

For me to actually fancy a straight guy I'm friends with is highly unusual. He has quite a fit sister actually (see my point?).

I may have scared him slightly (once again) my informing him and my friend that the only things on my to do list - apart from buying chemicals for the fish tank - are:

Move to Leeds or Manchester and do that sodding MSc that I'm in denial about wanting to do because it is geeky.
Have someone to take to the fist school reunion in 3 years time.
Be sprogged up by 30.

The second and third points are not necessarily related or dependent on each other in either way.

I blame the soda in my wine, the bubbles made me giddy, all 4 glasses of it.

I don't think it's much to ask though, is it?

...apt.

And if you find this one, Normal Flatmate, fecking well tell me this time, I'm not going through this rigmarole again.