Fair enough, this isn't so much a rant as a general observation on an area that can potentially lead to so many problems it is ridiculous. Scenario 1- friend comes round to visit you, between you a bottle of wine disappears, friend can't drive home, friend needs somewhere to sleep. No spare bedding and all that, so friend hops into bed with you. Two females? That's fine. But as soon as is a guy, there are problems. Scenario 1A - guy is somebody's boyfriend. If their girlfriend finds out about sharing bed, even if you both passed out through alcohol and snored in entirely seperate slumbers for the night, you are both in trouble. Scenario 1B - guy is single. Guy therefore thinks he stands a chance with you, due to presence of contents of bottle of wine inside him, and you therefore spend entire night panicking that he'll make some sort of move.
Scenario 1B can of course be broken down further - I mean, if you are single then it isn't such a bad deal (provided the guy is not total munter). But if you have boyfriend, then spend entire night panicking about any contact being made. Not that I have a boyfriend as such - treading in dangerous water here so will escape - but I did recently pass a night wide awake, didn't get a wink of sleep, because was terrified would either a, have unwelcome contact made by guy who was in my bed or b, I would wake up in night and think 'oh, that is _____' and turn over, pulling them to me. Therefore ended up in foul mood due to tiredness and absolutely shattered when said non-boyfriend-guy arrived the next night, thus arousing suspicions and generally being too tired to care who was in my bed anyway.
Am heading to London in a week and will be staying with a guy for two days who in the past has found excuse to approach me, and no, I'm not interested. Exchange of emails implies my sleeping there will require my being in same bed. I am already sweating gallons and panicking about this, and the thought is passing through my mind to spend a small fortune on a hotel room for myself instead.
I guess it all comes down to trust, doesn't it. Ah, that glorious bond which ties the dodgiest of relationships together. It is SO HARD to have to erase all the times that mean you don't trust one particular guy and not transfer them to a new guy; in fact, I just can't. I'm useless at it. And in all honesty, dear reader, I'm slightly concerned this could mean I end up losing someone before anything has really gotten started. Sigh. Let's all just get single beds and be done with it.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Friday, April 22, 2005
A few 'Shout Outs', and baths for oldies
Have had an extremely crazy day, filled with moments of hating most of the world followed closely by thinking everything is fantastic. (Are these symptoms of manic-depression?!). Anyhow, would just like to make a few shout-outs to people today. And in no particular order we have...
Sameena. Chica, you rock. Sam is and always will be, no doubt, one of the least successful rowers of all time (sorry girl, but its true), on occasion can be fantastically 'up herself', but as a general rule simply rocks. At uni she worked way too hard - well, she actually did work which from my view is doing a tad too much - and still managed to fit in hours at the gym each day. She is possibly the greatest ego-boost on the planet and this shout out is to say thank you so much for keeping me a version of sane, particularly over the last few weeks. Although I still haven't forgiven you for trying to drag me into Ann Summers...
Niall. Irish accent of course to die for. In addition, total charmer who manages to make me smile however cheesed off with the world I am. Has ability to talk put up with hours of MSN ranting, and Jane in the depths of depression. Can't believe am actually becoming one of those cheesy people who is being converted to the concept that 'friends make the world go round' but Niall is certainly dragging me round to that way of thinking. Cheers, m'dear.
Steph. Final one. As anybody who knows her will say within the first sentence of a description, she is an absolute lunatic. With a scary degree of German-drive and determination, she generally scares the crap out of pretty much anyone and is thus highly suited to her future lawyer-profession. Steph is possibly the ultimate person to complain to about guys, us both being massively unsuccessful in our own special ways. Don't get to see you often enough, girl, but next time we meet up we have a date in a double. (Non rowers, ignore that).
SO. Those three sprung to mind because today they've been responsible in entirely seperate ways for my not throwing myself off a cliff. Not that this would necessarily be a bad thing - yes, I heard that thought filter through your minds...
On a totally different note. 'Bath Knight'. I mean, come on, who came up with the concept that it would be a good idea to put a door in a bath? Everybody knows you run the hot tap first, then the cold to bring to right level - old person using fancy bath may not fall over getting in or out, but will receive first degree burns from sitting in boiling water for ages while bath fills. Does bring beautiful image of slightly doddery oldie filling the bath THEN opening the door to get in... Why, out of interest, can they not cope with showers? Its a mystery.
Sameena. Chica, you rock. Sam is and always will be, no doubt, one of the least successful rowers of all time (sorry girl, but its true), on occasion can be fantastically 'up herself', but as a general rule simply rocks. At uni she worked way too hard - well, she actually did work which from my view is doing a tad too much - and still managed to fit in hours at the gym each day. She is possibly the greatest ego-boost on the planet and this shout out is to say thank you so much for keeping me a version of sane, particularly over the last few weeks. Although I still haven't forgiven you for trying to drag me into Ann Summers...
Niall. Irish accent of course to die for. In addition, total charmer who manages to make me smile however cheesed off with the world I am. Has ability to talk put up with hours of MSN ranting, and Jane in the depths of depression. Can't believe am actually becoming one of those cheesy people who is being converted to the concept that 'friends make the world go round' but Niall is certainly dragging me round to that way of thinking. Cheers, m'dear.
Steph. Final one. As anybody who knows her will say within the first sentence of a description, she is an absolute lunatic. With a scary degree of German-drive and determination, she generally scares the crap out of pretty much anyone and is thus highly suited to her future lawyer-profession. Steph is possibly the ultimate person to complain to about guys, us both being massively unsuccessful in our own special ways. Don't get to see you often enough, girl, but next time we meet up we have a date in a double. (Non rowers, ignore that).
SO. Those three sprung to mind because today they've been responsible in entirely seperate ways for my not throwing myself off a cliff. Not that this would necessarily be a bad thing - yes, I heard that thought filter through your minds...
On a totally different note. 'Bath Knight'. I mean, come on, who came up with the concept that it would be a good idea to put a door in a bath? Everybody knows you run the hot tap first, then the cold to bring to right level - old person using fancy bath may not fall over getting in or out, but will receive first degree burns from sitting in boiling water for ages while bath fills. Does bring beautiful image of slightly doddery oldie filling the bath THEN opening the door to get in... Why, out of interest, can they not cope with showers? Its a mystery.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
Builders
For the last few days, I've been woken at the crack of dawn by work-men. Who are supposedly sorting out a leaking window but who arguably spend more of their time drinking cups of tea, shaking their heads making tutting sounds, and telling me they're just 'popping off to get another tool' then returning two hours later. On a general basis, I object to workmen in that they have no respect whatsoever for your belongings - 'bit of plastering wont make that much mess, luv', as I chokingly make my way to the nearest exit - and leave the place looking like a bombsite, however small the job in the first place. Additionally, being female, I actually don't have a clue what they're doing. 'Oh, a bit of sponge filler? That stops water, does it?' And there was I thinking sponges sat around on the bottom of the sea or on the edge of my bath. And a 'lead tray'... well, sounds useful, I guess. But did they have to un-build half the end wall in order to insert said tray? Seems somewhat drastic to me.
And after all that, you get a whopping great bill that you have no choice but to pay. All this because the person who built the sodding house in the first place didn't bother to put the lintel in properly and the subsequent owners had patch jobs done that essentially made the whole thing worse. In cases such as these, it should be tracked back to that original builder and he should damn well have to pay up himself. Why the poor sod who happens to have bought the property in good faith and then ends up shelling thousands for shoddy workmanship?
A few other issues this house has had:
1. The washing machine wasn't initially connected correctly, result being that it leaked under the floor for months before I finally noticed water seeping between the cracks on the laminated floor. Which resulted in hell of having to have that replaced - all because a tap wasn't tightened.
2. The shed door now cannot be locked, because the idiot who constructed it initially couldn't be bothered to do everything up properly so now it is leaning sideways at an alarming angle and the padlock just doesn't ever line up. Have moved padlock four times on shed now and as keeps slipping more, still doesn't bolt.
3. Leaking shower. Surely SURELY when someone installs a shower they can think to ensure that water stays in the shower rather than goes all over the damn place. Result: more laminate flooring having to be replaced and an entire new shower fitted.
Am seriously considering taking a course in basic construction/maintenance so that can do these darn jobs myself. But that doesn't work, does it? Because there isn't TIME to do everything. So ultimately unless you know someone in the business, you are going to get screwed. Non optional.
My other conclusion is: any workmen out there looking for a wife? I'm available. And if you screw up our house you will incur the wrath of Jane. Yeah - that's not good.
And after all that, you get a whopping great bill that you have no choice but to pay. All this because the person who built the sodding house in the first place didn't bother to put the lintel in properly and the subsequent owners had patch jobs done that essentially made the whole thing worse. In cases such as these, it should be tracked back to that original builder and he should damn well have to pay up himself. Why the poor sod who happens to have bought the property in good faith and then ends up shelling thousands for shoddy workmanship?
A few other issues this house has had:
1. The washing machine wasn't initially connected correctly, result being that it leaked under the floor for months before I finally noticed water seeping between the cracks on the laminated floor. Which resulted in hell of having to have that replaced - all because a tap wasn't tightened.
2. The shed door now cannot be locked, because the idiot who constructed it initially couldn't be bothered to do everything up properly so now it is leaning sideways at an alarming angle and the padlock just doesn't ever line up. Have moved padlock four times on shed now and as keeps slipping more, still doesn't bolt.
3. Leaking shower. Surely SURELY when someone installs a shower they can think to ensure that water stays in the shower rather than goes all over the damn place. Result: more laminate flooring having to be replaced and an entire new shower fitted.
Am seriously considering taking a course in basic construction/maintenance so that can do these darn jobs myself. But that doesn't work, does it? Because there isn't TIME to do everything. So ultimately unless you know someone in the business, you are going to get screwed. Non optional.
My other conclusion is: any workmen out there looking for a wife? I'm available. And if you screw up our house you will incur the wrath of Jane. Yeah - that's not good.
Friday, April 15, 2005
Motorway Nightmares
Plymouth - Lancaster, simple enough. A38, M5, M6. Motorway, essentially, all the way. Surely mid-week, leave at a decent hour in the morning (by anybody's standards, not just mine), it should be a trouble-free amble, right? Bearing this in mind, and the fact am making good time, I decide to hop off at Stafford to see friend there (shout out to John here) and leave with large pile of blank DVDs - that I am informed are 'poor quality' but who cares provided they do the trick. Anyhow, digressing.
Saunter casually back onto the motorway, get about 400yds before hitting a wall of traffic. Which I proceeded to sit in for five hours - FIVE HOURS - on, just to make life better, the nicest day of the year. This was all due to the fact a lorry over-turned. Now, my point is - this couldn't happen anywhere but in the UK. Surely. Have one minor problem and the whole traffic system comes to a complete standstill. Take the States, for example. Huge freeways, endless options - not an expert, but can't see them getting tailbacks like this. We are clearly far too small a country with too many cars and, in my opinion, not enough roads. And to hear some Green Party lunatic going on about, 'we have proof that more roads leads to more traffic' is just ridiculous. How many people trog along one day, see a shiny new bit of tarmac, and exclaim that good God, they need a car? I mean, seriously.
Oh yes, one other thing. For some obscure reason in the slow-moving traffic my speedometer (and, oh damn, milometer) died. Darn annoying. Had to pay fifty quid for the privelege of being leered at on multiple occasions at the garage, and eventually getting the cable fixed. 'Men' (I use the term loosely) who work in garages should be kept in cages. Along with those who drink cups of tea on scaffolding all day - sorry, labourers - and taxi drivers who hang around in gangs. There is a vague element of comedy to having five guys peering into the bonnet of my Mini simply because when I arrived I was clad in a pair of figure-hugging jeans, but honestly. GROW UP. No wonder this country is full of depressed people. Jeez.
Saunter casually back onto the motorway, get about 400yds before hitting a wall of traffic. Which I proceeded to sit in for five hours - FIVE HOURS - on, just to make life better, the nicest day of the year. This was all due to the fact a lorry over-turned. Now, my point is - this couldn't happen anywhere but in the UK. Surely. Have one minor problem and the whole traffic system comes to a complete standstill. Take the States, for example. Huge freeways, endless options - not an expert, but can't see them getting tailbacks like this. We are clearly far too small a country with too many cars and, in my opinion, not enough roads. And to hear some Green Party lunatic going on about, 'we have proof that more roads leads to more traffic' is just ridiculous. How many people trog along one day, see a shiny new bit of tarmac, and exclaim that good God, they need a car? I mean, seriously.
Oh yes, one other thing. For some obscure reason in the slow-moving traffic my speedometer (and, oh damn, milometer) died. Darn annoying. Had to pay fifty quid for the privelege of being leered at on multiple occasions at the garage, and eventually getting the cable fixed. 'Men' (I use the term loosely) who work in garages should be kept in cages. Along with those who drink cups of tea on scaffolding all day - sorry, labourers - and taxi drivers who hang around in gangs. There is a vague element of comedy to having five guys peering into the bonnet of my Mini simply because when I arrived I was clad in a pair of figure-hugging jeans, but honestly. GROW UP. No wonder this country is full of depressed people. Jeez.
Monday, April 11, 2005
Tax Office
So I had one of those days where I decided to get all that boring crap out of the way - which included a two hour visit to the tax office. Worthy of a mention in that one guy actually lost the plot he'd been in the queue so long, walked over to the reception area, picked up enormous 20" monitor and hurled on floor before charging out, kicking glass out of door, and disappearing into the wilderness of Derriford. Office went crazy with shouts of, 'God, we need some help in here!' , females screeching, and one guy importantly snatching up the phone yelling, 'Get me the police!'. Too much excitement for one day.
Have had to endure hours of hold music, recorded messages, and people with a total inability to speak English. I'm all for employing those of non-English backgrounds, but dear God at least make sure they can speak our language. Example conversation: 'I want to cancel my mobile phone contract.'....'You want to complain about your contract?'...'No, I want to CANCEL my contract.'...'You can't do that.'...'Look, I know I can, I asked someone in a shop two days ago and they said I COULD.'....'Oh, you said CANCEL? Of course you can.'
JEEZ. At which point need to start requesting new phone as have hurled old one across the room.
Anyway, was all worth it in the end as discovered hidden stores in my bank account, uncashed cheques, and tax rebates really are worth all the hassle. Am celebrating getting everything done by going up North for a couple of weeks - see a few people, some more than others... Maybe even stick a blade in the Lune. Wow. Rowing. Not done that in ages. Beware ducklings, Jane is on the loose. (Beware ducklings, beware other rowers may be more apt). Will ensconse myself in Maidencroft for a fortnight, armed with multiple extremely tedious sounding books and attempt to develop an honest interest in Women's Studies. Any comments on how this is to be achieved would be appreciated (er - guys, keep it clean. Jeez).
Have had to endure hours of hold music, recorded messages, and people with a total inability to speak English. I'm all for employing those of non-English backgrounds, but dear God at least make sure they can speak our language. Example conversation: 'I want to cancel my mobile phone contract.'....'You want to complain about your contract?'...'No, I want to CANCEL my contract.'...'You can't do that.'...'Look, I know I can, I asked someone in a shop two days ago and they said I COULD.'....'Oh, you said CANCEL? Of course you can.'
JEEZ. At which point need to start requesting new phone as have hurled old one across the room.
Anyway, was all worth it in the end as discovered hidden stores in my bank account, uncashed cheques, and tax rebates really are worth all the hassle. Am celebrating getting everything done by going up North for a couple of weeks - see a few people, some more than others... Maybe even stick a blade in the Lune. Wow. Rowing. Not done that in ages. Beware ducklings, Jane is on the loose. (Beware ducklings, beware other rowers may be more apt). Will ensconse myself in Maidencroft for a fortnight, armed with multiple extremely tedious sounding books and attempt to develop an honest interest in Women's Studies. Any comments on how this is to be achieved would be appreciated (er - guys, keep it clean. Jeez).
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Naval 'Do'
And I'm back, after enforced absence due to lack of internet access. Not entirely sure how I survived so long without being able to hop online but I'm here, shaking and withdrawn, but here. So anyway, I'll start on the 'good news'. Went to a full-on Naval Ball on Friday evening - theme was apparently 'round the world in eighty days' which essentially justified the organisers using any decoration from the last hundred years as all were going to be relevant in some way or other. Since I'm meant to rant, I will mention that the food was AWFUL. As vegetarian gluten-free, I'm obviously a damn picky eater and had requested this beforehand. 'Starter' consisted of an onion salad, which I managed to stagger through half of before rejecting in favour of an unseen main course. Which turned out to be a larger portion of the same onion salad. Given that I was eating in the second sitting and had had three hours of drinking time before then...
Yes well, nobody else was sober so its okay.
Despite being terrified beforehand that wasn't dressed to a suitable standard of ponciness, I think I passed that one. Did mean to take photos but was such a nervous wreck entirely forgot - D'OH. Since am potentially going to the even poncier centenary event in August, I will make note to get photos then.
Spent most of yesterday massively hungover entertaining my highly energetic seven year old niece. This is not recommended after about two hours sleep and more champagne than I care to remember.
Went to Oxford last week to check out future 'alma mater'. Nothing to complain about there.
Wish I'd thought of this years ago - create a website on which to rant, and then am presented with remarkably little to rant about. Did have a miniature rant with friend Ed this morning (the 'Man' referred to in coffeekat's blog if anyone is interested) regarding the useless nature of shop assistants in this country. Particularly hate it when you walk up to a group of them yabbering away about their social lives, you start to hover with clear intent to ask a question, and none of them deigns to acknowledge your existence. How to Cheese Jane Off in one easy move, that would be. Frequently sees me going, 'Oh for God's SAKE' and storming off, making it blatantly obvious one of them just missed a sale.
Returning to veggie/gluten free point. WHY DON'T AIRLINES OFFER THIS AS AN OPTION? One or the other, if I'm lucky. I say that because every time I book a flight my agent assures me that they have requested that and they never bloody have - which reminds me, must ring up to see what I'll be expected to consume on my flight to BA in a month.
GRR.
Oh good. A bit of a rant. Feel much better now :D
Yes well, nobody else was sober so its okay.
Despite being terrified beforehand that wasn't dressed to a suitable standard of ponciness, I think I passed that one. Did mean to take photos but was such a nervous wreck entirely forgot - D'OH. Since am potentially going to the even poncier centenary event in August, I will make note to get photos then.
Spent most of yesterday massively hungover entertaining my highly energetic seven year old niece. This is not recommended after about two hours sleep and more champagne than I care to remember.
Went to Oxford last week to check out future 'alma mater'. Nothing to complain about there.
Wish I'd thought of this years ago - create a website on which to rant, and then am presented with remarkably little to rant about. Did have a miniature rant with friend Ed this morning (the 'Man' referred to in coffeekat's blog if anyone is interested) regarding the useless nature of shop assistants in this country. Particularly hate it when you walk up to a group of them yabbering away about their social lives, you start to hover with clear intent to ask a question, and none of them deigns to acknowledge your existence. How to Cheese Jane Off in one easy move, that would be. Frequently sees me going, 'Oh for God's SAKE' and storming off, making it blatantly obvious one of them just missed a sale.
Returning to veggie/gluten free point. WHY DON'T AIRLINES OFFER THIS AS AN OPTION? One or the other, if I'm lucky. I say that because every time I book a flight my agent assures me that they have requested that and they never bloody have - which reminds me, must ring up to see what I'll be expected to consume on my flight to BA in a month.
GRR.
Oh good. A bit of a rant. Feel much better now :D
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
