Wednesday, 29 December 2010


I am back at work tomorrow. But just for one day.

Technically we get Christmas Day, Boxing Day, New Years Day and January 2nd. Which means, as they all fell on weekend days this year and we're entitled to them, we got the 27th and 28th, and 3rd and 4th Jan instead. On top of that, we get three days festive leave which is for the three week days in between Christmas and New Year that are neither of these.

BUT . . . because our department is so busy, they need people into cover on these three days, so I ended up being allocated the 30th.

It's obviously kinda shit as I like to be off the whole way through the hols, and it would be LOVELY to be off all the way through from the 24th Dec to the 5th January. However, I've been trying to look at it in a positive way and think "well, the 30th is halfway through the holidays, therefore I get 5 days off followed by one day in work followed by another five days off. Perhaps it will make me appreciate the holiday more."

However, not only have the past five days absolutely FLEW by, but I've been virtually WISHING them away so that I can get my one day in the office over with, so I can be back to being off work again. So it's like I'm not really appreciating the time off. Which is kinda crap.

Anyhoo, despite me being totally aware that I'm doing it, roll on 4pm tomorrow so I can have my next five days off . . . despite this current five days not being over yet.

Do you have to work over the Christmas/New Year period? Do you mind having to do it?

Tuesday, 28 December 2010

SONGS OF 2010 . . .

So in true "end of the year" style, here are some of my favourite tunes of 2010...

What's your top song (or songs) of this year???

Sunday, 26 December 2010


Loadsa toiletries and make up. Just what I like. :)

Pretty necklaces, all for me.

Chocolate and vino!

Beautiful Swarovski pen courtesy of my lovely friend V - doesn't she have the best taste?

New slippers, a scarf, a toasted marshmallow scented candle (mmmm), and a cute leather wrist cuff.

What nice presents did you get?

Saturday, 25 December 2010


Merry Christmas everyone!

Being ill over Christmas sucks. And I still am. I made it to my family's celebrations anyway and survived, although I coughed all over the place so I'm really hoping I haven't spread germs as well as Christmas cheer. We got the usual random selection of food for Christmas dinner - sausage rolls, home made steak pie, baked beans, potato croquettes, bits of beef, bits of ham, creamed mushrooms . . . Yeah, random right?

Anyhoo, I'm back at my flat now, coughing away some more, already dressed in my PJs despite the fact it's only 8.15pm. Yep, I AM a party animal. Don't worry, I'm not going to bed yet, gonna break open a bottle of sparkling rose I received as a present and browse the online sales. Rock AND roll.

Expect an upcoming post on some of the fab presents I've received. And probably one on the stupid stuff I end up buying in the online sales!

In the meantime, the only other thing I want for Christmas? Is for a certain person to take the ball I've nudged into his court on more than one occasion now and confirm whether or not I am going to get to hang out with him again over the festive period. Fingers crossed for me, eh?

Monday, 20 December 2010

SICK . . .

I phoned in sick today.

I physically couldn't get out of bed - despite the fact I lay half awake all night. I weighed up whether or not I could function in work and decided it was unlikely. I also weighed up whether going out in minus temperatures would help me recover and decided that wasn't even a consideration. I remembered how I was violently sick last night with no warning, and didn't particularly want to puke in public if such an occurrence were to happen again.

So a day of hiding under the duvet and coughing was all I could think to do.

The thing is though . . . I HATE phoning in sick.

It makes me feel guilty. Partly because there is so much in work to be done at the moment (I felt especially guilty after I found out another of my team members is also off sick today). And partly because I guess that's the way I've been brought up. No one in my family is off sick if they have to be. I'm probably the worst for it out of us all, and this is only the second time I've been off sick in four years.

But the bit I hate the MOST is the actual act of "phoning in sick". Because however genuinely ill I am, I feel like the person I'm speaking to on the phone doesn't believe me. No matter who my boss is, I always feel like this. I find myself overexplaining things, I can't just say "Sorry, I won't be in today, I'm sick" . . . I have to try and give them all the details, which probably makes it sound more like a made-up story.

It sucks.

Does anyone else feel like that when they phone in sick? Or is it just me?

Sunday, 19 December 2010


  • unwell. (Which I hate, because I don't *do* sick)
  • procrastinating rather than wrapping presents
  • feeling a bit removed from the blogosphere (just have loads of other things on my mind)
  • having loads of things on my mind (did you already work that one out?)
  • confused (why are boys so confusing?)
  • wondering why text messages can be so damn ambiguous sometimes
  • coughing a lot (severity of coughing noise? Sonewhere between a heavy smoker's cough and a deathbed cough. Yup, just like that.)
  • looking at my google reader and wondering how I've let the blogosphere go to the state that I have 659 unread items sitting there
  • considering pressing "mark all as read" as just thinking about it makes my head hurt and makes me want to go and curl up in a little ball
  • wishing the snow would piss off already. (it's just getting beyond a joke now.)
  • wondering where my appetite has gone and if it buggered off when my common cold turned up.
  • thinking waaaay too much . . .

Anyway, that's where I am right now. What about you?

Saturday, 11 December 2010


The snow is FINALLY starting to melt. I actually managed to walk down my street to the shop to buy wine earlier WITHOUT it being entirely an ice rink. It was a little strange, after Glasgow being pretty much white for the past fortnight. But I ain't complaining one bit.

On top of that, I get to escape to London tomorrow, which I'm also happy about. My first ever work trip to London IN DECEMBER. Only ever been in June before, so this should be good. Down there with a good group of colleagues, staying in a great location (near Kings Cross). On top of that, I get to reunite with Elle and Victoria, neither of whom I have seen since the Manchester meet-up nearly a year ago now. Can't wait! (Anyone else about???)

In other news, I am currently glued to the X Factor final. I don't really mind who wins, as long as Cher Lloyd doesn't win. I really liked her at the start, she came on and did this fantastic audition of "Turn My Swag On". But since then, she's went down in my estimation. So Matt, Rebecca, One Direction? PLEASE out-sing the arrogant little diva tonight!

Anyway, I'm feeling unusually optimistic tonight. It's December, I'm going to London, it's nearly Christmas, other things are . . . looking optimistic for now. We'll have to see.

Of course, there IS the fact I have to get on a plane. Which terrifies me a little bit.

There's ALWAYS a downside with me . . .

Tuesday, 7 December 2010


Okay, internet peoples, I need serious help.

My Christmas shopping is . . . not going well. In fact, it has stalled at pretty much the first hurdle. I've not bought much at all. My brain won't work this year. I usually have it done by now. Sometimes I even have it WRAPPED by now.


So I need ideas. For websites (preferably British ones, i've left it too late for anything further away than that.) For gifts for my girly friends. For dads and grandas. For mums. For male friends. Help help HELP!!!

Even just tell me what you have bought, or are planning to buy, your friends and BFFs. Maybe it will help give me inspiration!

Then all I need to work out is where I'm possibly going to get the MONEY TO PAY FOR IT ALL from . . .

MAN, Christmas is stressful!!!

Monday, 6 December 2010

SNOW = SH*T!!!!

So approximately ten days later and it's STILL effin' snowing.

Seriously, how long is this going to go on for? Miraculously, my colleagues managed to get down to London yesterday as planned, after a week of stressing thinking it wouldn't happen. Today, I had to do a mad long shift (6.40 am - 5.10pm) and I slipped my tootsies into my ballet pumps (sounds mental, I know, given the weather, but they are soooo much better than gripping on ice than any of my boots) and skidded and skated and teetered my way over the ice to work, thinking "well, hopefully this is the beginning of the end of the Ice Age." (While simultaneously sweating like a pig despite the negative temperatures due to the fact I was so stressed out about trying not to fall over.)

Famous last words, as next time I looked out the window, the snow had started again. And it snowed and it snowed and it snowed.

And gradually most of the public transport in and around Glasgow was cancelled.

And it EVEN got to the point where all the Glasgow office were reluctantly told we could actually go home if we wanted. And then, despite the fact it's our department's busiest time of the year, even OUR department offered to let us go. A TRULY unprecedented move.

So I got to leave forty minutes early and traipse through a snowy/slush puppy/ice rink in my ballet pumps. Yippee!

APPARENTLY it's meant to shoot up in temperature by the end of the week, but in the meantime I've forgotten what it feels like to be warm. And what it feels like to be able to walk fast without the permanent fear of slipping over on the ice and breaking my neck.

I am SOOOO over this weather. So far it's brought me:

*sore legs from trying to walk in the snow
*sore back from falling in the snow
*sore hip which was apparently a later side effect of falling in the snow
*permanently wet and cold feet
*clothes covered in salt and snow splashes
*embarrassment from falling over, and one or two near misses where I barely saved myself from falling
*extra long trips to work thanks to having to walk like Bambi for fear of falling again
*people trying to throw snowballs at me


I think so anyway . . .

Wednesday, 1 December 2010


Seriously, snow, you're pissing me off more and more by the day. The entire city appears to have shut down (well, apart from my office, where I still need to go every day. Sigh.)

But, if you are looking for ideas of snow sculptures to make, you could do worse than to try to make THIS . . .

Hi, giant "meat and two potatoes" snow sculpture!!! Let's watch while "Mum" pushes you over and kicks the shit out of you.


You're welcome.

Tuesday, 30 November 2010


  • Tuesday night drinks . . . are the new Friday night drinks. In fact, any nights drinking is the new Friday night drinks. Even those still done on Friday. (Why, YES, I've been drinking...)

  • Buying the right present for someone is AWESOME. I met my friend tonight for her to buy me a belated birthday dinner, and had her present from HER Birthday waiting for her . . . her birthday was in August. It was a Whoopie Pie recipe book and baking tray. She opened it, said "Did you know I'm obsessed with these?" I didn't know. In fact, she had stumbled upon them last month in a random cafe. I bought her the gift two months before. Am I psychic??? (I generally like to think I'm good at present buying, but when you buy someone something they've been wanting without KNOWING they've wanted it . . . it is the ULTIMATE. Especially if you bought it for them before they even knew THEMSELVES!!!)
  • Haggis balls are awesome! (And no, that's NOT an euphemism, thank Christ!)
  • Offering someone the rest of your companion's drink as you leave the pub is . . . a little weird. Look, if you were my friend, I might have drank it, but you WERE just a random sitting at the next table . . . do you really think I trust you???
  • Joining my sore back and vying for possible medical attention are a sore neck (just at the front), sore legs (from walking in the snow), and a random sore arm that appeared yesterday just after lunch and seems to hurt every time I flex my thumb or forefinger (pulled muscle? nerve issue? Any ideas?) . Of course it probably didn't help that when I fell yesterday, I used that hand to try and break my fall. (Without much success admittedly). I'm not used to having multiple sore areas at once (that haven't been brought on by alcohol and/or a hangover, that is), it's very disconcerting.
  • Why were there guys on my subway train home singing very loudly about fisting a sheep??? Why did it really annoy me at first, then I just really wanted to laugh?
  • Who would WANT to fist a sheep???
  • And WHY???
  • Was it possibly football related?
  • Why won't the snow just GO AWAY????

Monday, 29 November 2010


My day was shitty. My pride is wounded slightly. My back is KILLING me.

Yes, the highlight to the shitty day (work generally sucked, and I think I've given up on Work Crush because it has been four months since the wedding now - albeit it took me over a month to realise I liked him - and I'm tired of the constant mixed signals. Oh, and there was still SNOW, in fact MORE SNOW than there was yesterday. Yippee. Not.) was me falling flat on my back on the way home from work.

It was a total comedy fall admittedly, like the slipping-on-a-banana idea where I seemed to fly ten feet or so into the air before landing. And I think the shock got to me first as, although (thankfully) there were not many people around, I started laughing loudly. The sort of thing one does when you're alone and do something embarrassing and have no one you know to laugh it off with. Or the sort of thing *I* do when I've done something stupid and want to point it out before anyone else does. Like the time I walked into a pole outside my work when I'd only just started working there a few days before. Or the time I accidentally threw out my security fob for the door in and out of my office and had to point it out to everyone before I started rummaging in the bin for it.

Yeah, you have to laugh or you'll cry, right? I laughed, even as the woman in front turned around to ask me if I was okay. Then I picked myself up off the ground, looked around to see how many witnesses there were (the woman who asked if I was okay. The man behind me yabbering away on his mobile phone. That was it. Result!) and started walking.

Two seconds later, I heard the unmistakeable sound (it HAD just happened to me after all) of someone falling behind me. In the exact same spot I had. Oh yes, it was the guy on his mobile. His phone still clutched to his ear as he yelled aloud Trigger Happy tv style "Yeah, yeah, I've just fallen over!"

I continued to giggle.

As I got closer to my house, the pain set in. I am lucky enough to have never experienced back pain before. This was agony. I went into the shop next to my flat, for once not caring if they thought I was an alkie as I bought some wine "for medicinal purposes". I told the guy behind the counter that I'd fallen over.

I then told one of my flatmates who I've barely spoken to and usually walk past and just say hi.

I then text half of my phone's address book to tell them.

Then I cried with the pain for about ten minutes, got in a hot bath, then lay on my bed with a hot water bottle under me and started drinking my medicine/alcohol.

Oh, and then I told all you guys.

What can I say? Misery and humiliation loves company.

You can't share my wine though...

Sunday, 28 November 2010


When it snows heavily in Central Scotland, as with all extreme weather conditions, we can't cope. It's infuriating.

It has been snowing on and off since Friday night, but between last night and this morning, there was a veritable blizzard. And, unfortunately, I was not at home, but at my friend V's in the East End. So I bundled myself up, arming myself with a borrowed hoodie under my three-quarter length sleeve mac (I know, I know, what the feck was I DOING without long sleevesies at the end of November???) and prepared to tunnel through the snow to the city centre.

I knew the way, so that wasn't an issue, and I was wearing fairly sensible footwear (by my standards) so that was fine too. The problem was that my route took me down Duke Street in Dennistoun, which was full of vicious little neds who had no problem with aiming snowballs at any human being passing by. At one point, I actually went down a side street and up another one to avoid a particularly vicious gang of youths armed with the foul snow stuff. Only to emerge a street later to find they'd moved further up the street and as I walked past I found myself their target. They were, thankfully, really bad aims, because the snowballs which flew by me were hitting the wall next to me with pretty strong force.

So as I approached another gang of youths hurtling snowballs indiscriminately, I decided to try and different tactic (possibly taking my life in my hands, but oh well). "Having fun, guys?" I asked them with a smile (trying to hide the fear.) There was a moment of silence and then one who looked about eight shouted "Aye! You want to join in?" "No,I just want to be inside!" I replied, relieved, and kept walking. It worked. None of them touched me, although a guy walking just ahead of me had a massive pile of snow just FLUNG OVER him as he walked past. Oh dear. See, sometimes it PAYS to be friendly to the neds. You just have to pick your moments.

So I eventually made it home in one piece, although thoroughly exhausted. Walking in snow is HARD. At least I can count that as my workout for the day!

As for the frozen white stuff . . . well, it better bugger off quick smart, because I've already had more than my fill of it . . .

Do you have snow right now? Do you like it?

Sunday, 21 November 2010


So I mentioned the other day that I was going through somewhat of a dry spell. Sexually, romantically, whatever you want to describe it as, I have not had much action.

I last had sex in August 2009. I could probably work out the exact date, as it would have been the last time I saw F in person. But that will just depress me, so I think I'll not be that specific.

But it's not just lack of sex. It's also been just over a year since my last date. (Swine Guy.)

It's been over 6 months since my last kiss. (Creepy guy in Zante, at the start of May.) Well, I THINK it was my last kiss, as I'm FAIRLY sure I would have remembered if Work Crush and I had kissed in the taxi after the wedding in July.

So the closest I've had to any action was Work Crush feeling my leg that night from the looks of it.

And even THAT was nearly four months ago!!!

I know this probably sounds pretty depressing to some folk. And it IS a little depressing to me too.

But, at the same time, I quite often go through phases like this. Before F came along last year, it had been over a year since my last . . . I'm trying to think of a polite way to put this other than "shag" and failing. So let's go with shag. And before my ex before F, there was also nearly a year gap. And then before the one BEFORE that, there was more than a year gap again.

And before that there was nothing. I didn't lose my virginity until I was 24, after all.

Maybe that's one of the reasons why I don't get too bothered about the whole thing. I've only had sex with four guys, and I've had long periods of being alone between each of them, and I spent 24 years without getting any, so perhaps I don't care that much about the long periods of time I go without any "action". I like it when I'm having it, don't get me wrong, but after a while I barely notice anymore.

I can't help but wonder when the next time will be though. And who it will be with.

I know who I want it to be with. But then that's another story, already told on more than one occasion. Sigh.

On an unrelated note, would anyone like to contribute to my Battery Fund? A girl can never have too many batteries, after all . . . ;)

Monday, 15 November 2010

PROJECT *ME* . . .

Since I have nothing better to do this week, I have decided to focus on ME and try and make a kick start on this Getting Fit, Losing Weight thing.

Obviously, this shall be an ongoing thing - a fitness regime, after all, is for life, not just for a week - but I want to just spend this week pampering myself and looking out for just me for a change. I mean, I'm a ridiculously selfish person anyway, don't get me wrong, but I feel like I've spent way too much of the past couple of months feeling a bit miserable and/or all over the place emotionally, so maybe I can try and just have some proper me-time and sort myself out once and for all. And laying off the drink for a few days surely can't hurt either.

So I've been exercising more and trying to limit myself calorie and carb-wise to some extent. I've been spending longer cleansing my skin (once or twice I've even managed to take my eye make-up off) and I've been trying to avoid the alcohol a bit. I actually spent Saturday completely sober, my first Sober Saturday in AGES!!!

Of course, then I ruined it by going to see Diana Vickers last night with my sister and brother-in-law, ended up going for dinner beforehand, then drinking rose wine, white wine, vodka and even a bit of cider over the course of the evening. Today in work . . . I wasn't exactly at my best.

Diana, I blame you . . .

Friday, 12 November 2010

TGIF . . .

You ever have one of those days where you know within approximately two minutes of getting out of bed that it is NOT going to be a good day?

That's where I'm at today. I have managed to over-sleep, I can hear the wind and rain tearing up the world outside, and I still have to pick a bloody outfit. Grrr.

I also have no plans for the weekend, save for the Diana Vickers gig at the ABC on Sunday night. Mind you, I'm not actually all that sure I have the energy to do anything really.

The only upside to it all is that at least it's Friday, and I should have got paid. I hope. Maybe I should check that before I count THAT as an advantage.

Also, perhaps I should actually get ready for work, instead of just having a rant on here about how I'm running late etc.


Any good plans for the weekend, folks? Have a good Friday!

Monday, 8 November 2010


You know when there's a song that you identify with totally and completely, that cuts right through to your core? That you feel you could have actually written?

This is a song I have identified with on many an occasion.

What about you? Is there a song that you feel could be about you???

Saturday, 30 October 2010


Here's the thing - if you tell me a secret that you don't want anyone else to know, you can trust me with it. I won't go around telling people. I'm not that kind of person.

I know quite a lot of people's secrets and they stay inside me. Even the secrets of people I am no longer friends with, weirdly enough.

Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be enough space in there to contain all those secrets. Something has got to give. In my case, this means I don't really have secrets of my own. I will willingly share my life, my past, my experiences with just about anyone who asks (and some people who don't.) With or without alcohol in me. It's verbal vomit . . . all over the place.

It's unfortunate that a few of the relationships I've had have been ones that were meant to be secret. Because I was no good at that. The sneaking around is fun at first, but ultimately I'm quite an honest person . . . so I would have to start to share eventually. It would start off with my uber-best friends . . . and then start to spiral out of control a little.

Or the fact that of late, this crush of mine has become not quite so secret as I tend to get drunk and blab about it. It's went from two colleagues knowing about it, to about five or six. Maybe the next person I blab about it to will be HIM. Eek.

I don't see myself as a particularly secretive person. Although an ex of mine once said he felt like he had learned more about me from stuff he'd read written by me on a website than he had learned from me directly. Which I found a bit amusing. If you want to know stuff about me, all you have to do is ask. Or read my blog, I suppose. . .

Anyway the point is that your secrets are safe with me. My OWN, on the other hand, are not.

Are you good at keeping secrets?

Thursday, 28 October 2010


  • London. Mid-December. Three days. Will be there for work but free at night. If you may be in the vicinity in that vague space of time, holler.

  • If you like someone and want to email them, but can't think of anything to say, what do you say?????

  • As I have just posted on my facebook, tonight I am having a cheese and wine night. I am the only guest, and the cheese in question is a cheese string and the wine is cava. Are you jealous yet of my uber glam parties for one?
  • I have nothing else to say. That rings true of pretty much EVERYTHING in my life right now...

Monday, 25 October 2010

"TYPES" . . .

It's weird because I can meet a guy and say definitively "he's not my type" . . . when, in reality, I apparently don't HAVE a type.

I mean,I DO have a type, "in theory". The cliched "tall, dark and handsome" type, for example. That's always the one I like in books, or films. Obviously, you have the ones who don't fit into some of those categories. Like Brad Pitt - well, before he hooked up with Fangelina and became, weirdly, a bit ugly. He's tall, FAIR, and - usually - handsome. So he ticks some of the boxes, but not all.

In theory there is a type. In practice, it has never quite worked out that way.

But, no, none of the guys I have liked, or none of my exes, could be pigeon-holed into the same type. There's been tall and short (at barely five foot three myself, height isn't too much of a consideration in another half), fair and dark, blue-eyed and brown eyed . . . there's a fairly large spectrum. Well, not LARGE. I've not been around THAT much. Y'know . . . :)

My "type" adjusts depending on the guy I like at the time. So at the moment my type is this:

  • good arms (not necessarily overly muscled, but "manly")
  • sparkly eyes (I can't really describe this, I know what I mean though)
  • boyish/puppy-dog like enthusiasm and/or slight hyperactivity at times
  • a bit mysterious

And, yup, he ticks all the boxes. Grrr.


Do you have a specific type? Or does it just depend on the person you are interested in? SHARE!!!

Wednesday, 20 October 2010


Okay, okay, so I know it's nearly Thursday actually (at least where I am anyway!). But I've had a fairly shitty week so far what with a rather stressful but boring week in work and the whole mixed signals situation. And I feel pretty shitty in general. So I feel like I need to do "Cheer Me Up Tuesday", like, right now.

And, hey, it's my blog so it's my rules. If I want to do CMU Tuesday on a Wednesday night, then I can, 'kay???

So here goes - my new favourite past-time is to scroll through Youtube for the "unlikely things to hear" section of the TV show Mock The Week. I love it. :)

Ahhhhh . . . I feel a bit better already. :)

Sunday, 17 October 2010


So over the past couple of weeks, I've taken to walking to work in my ballet pumps as usual, then swapping them in the loos for high heels before I enter the office.

It wasn't really a conscious thing as such - a couple of days before I went on holiday it was pissing with rain and I thought my feet would get wet if I wore my ballet pumps, so I put on my UGGs. Then I figured since I was going to have to change shoes anyway once I got there (UGGs not exactly workwear appropriate in my eyes, after all) I may as well wear heels. So I did. And I felt very tall and like a grown up, and my legs were looking, in my opinion, FUCKING FANTASTIC, so I've kept it up since.

On Friday I was dressing down though. I had on black tights with hearts on them, a denim skirt and a basic top, so figured I could just keep my ballet pumps on for a change.

On Friday afternoon, one of my colleagues said to me "the guys out there were talking about you earlier" -
meaning the group of guys who work directly in view of the door into the office. "They were saying they like that you've started wearing high heels."

I hadn't even realised anyone had noticed. "Why were they talking about it?" I said. To me, it seems a bit of a weird conversation for guys to be having.

"They said they liked that they make you look taller." He replied, looking a bit vague.

"Oh right." I still found this weird. "Well, I'm not wearing heels today. So why did this come up in conversation?"

"They were saying they PREFERRED it when you wore heels."

"Right, so they were saying that I look crap when I don't wear heels then?" Typical female logic, right?

I think by this point my colleague realised it would probably be safer to just shut up and probably wished he hadn't said anything.

But I suppose, if nothing else, it proves that it's NOT just me who thinks my legs look fucking fantastic in high heels . . .

Thursday, 14 October 2010


Choosing an appropriate card for someone can be a minefield at times. As can buying presents.

Luckily, I'm not a person who is hard to buy things for. At least I don't THINK I am. And many people have confirmed this for me.

However, I think my teammates outdid themselves. When I returned to work a week after my birthday, it was to find a present of . . . FOUR BOTTLES OF ROSE WINE!!!

Can you imagine my joy/fear-that-the-rest-of-my-department-were-going-to-think-I-was-an-alcoholic?

(The latter not helped by the fact that they had apparently left the bottles sitting on my desk on one of the days I was on holiday.)

And, although the card they gave me probably completely reinforced this image-of-me-as-a-wino, could there really have been a card that was MORE made for me than this one????

No, not at all. Right???

Sunday, 10 October 2010


Thought I would share some pictures from my holiday to the Costa del Sol in Spain last week. So here goes . . .

The view from our balcony.

Me posing on an inexplicably misty beach . . .

The hotel swimming pool. I was too lazy to get off my sun lounger and INTO it though...

Posing on the Balcon

A church. My mum is in this picture too. She was trying to find out the mass times.

On the balcony with my wine.

A random street

Drinking cava on my birthday in Paradise Bar

Pretty beach

Me on the road to Maro

A random shrine in the middle of nowhere....

Outside the Nerja caves

A pretty hotel in Maro

A scary drop. I did NOT like walking over this bridge. And I had to do it TWICE...

Apparently this is a river. It's kinda small.

I liked the clouds.

Me on the street on our last night.

Saturday, 9 October 2010


***I went out for lunch today. And ended up spending 130 pounds. Oopsy. Okay, part of the money went towards a 30th birthday present for one of my friends, AND the aforementioned lunch. Feeling a bit guilty, but at least it was birthday money and money I didn't spend while I was on holiday. And I got a couple of nice outfits and some cute pyjamas, so I guess I should just enjoy my purchases.

***I'm STILL wondering how the idiot on our coach transfer to Malaga airport yesterday managed to leave his suitcase in the hotel . . . AND NOT EVEN NOTICE!!! Freaking weirdo.

***Despite eating and drinking waaayyy too much in Spain (half board so ridiculous amounts at the buffet morning and evening, too much bread and pate and/or cheese eaten on the balcony at lunch, waaaayyy too much Sangria and cava - the only thing I did right was avoid full fat fizzy drink, which is usually my downfall on holiday), I only put on 0.8 of a pound in weight. I'm pretty relieved about that. The diet will begin once again on Monday. And this time, I mean business...

***I'm pleasantly surprised at the weather here. I was expecting Glasgow to turn wintery while I was in Spain. But the past two days I still haven't been wearing a jacket, and I'm STILL too warm. Weird... Oh well, I'm sure autumn will hit properly any day now. Boo.

***I'm annoyed at the X Factor and the way it assumes I have no life and will devote both Saturday AND Sunday nights to it. Particularly annoying when tonight's show lasted nearly three hours. Um - excuse me X Factor . . . when do you expect me to actually, I dunno, LEAVE THE HOUSE???

***I'm back at work on Monday for the first time in over a week. And there's only two reasons I'm not completely dreading it. One is because if I have new clothes to wear, I don't mind work as much. And as for the other reason . . . well, I don't think I need to elaborate on that one.

***Oh and I only have one half day left of annual leave to take before Christmas. This is going to be a long couple of months. Argh!!!

***Considering I had nothing to say, this has turned into a longer post than anticipated. Off to drink more sparkling rose wine now. Ciao!

Any nice plans this weekend?

Friday, 8 October 2010


Example 1

The Scene: I'm sitting in Malaga airport swapping my Euros with my mum for British currency (she goes abroad more often than I do and it saves me going to a travel agent to get them changed back).

My mum: "Now, I really hope you aren't going to go out and spend this on five new dresses."
Me: "Of course not."
Slight pause . . .
Me: "Just maybe . . . THREE dresses?"

Example 2

The Scene: I have a bottle of fizzy rose we bought in Nerja last night in my suitcase (it cost something like 1 euro 50 cents) and at duty free in the airport I've bought a bottle of cava, which is clinking alarmingly alongside the raspberry Absolut I've purchased as we head for the baggage reclaim at Glasgow.

My mum: "Now, I really hope you're not planning on drinking both of those bottles of wine once you get home today."
Me: "Um . . ."

Nah. I couldn't really deny that thought was going through my mind at all, could I???

(Yes, I'm back, baby!!! Expect one or two more holiday related posts in the next few days. In the meantime, I guess I should go check out what I've missed via my google reader. Eek...)

Thursday, 30 September 2010


The flight is at 6am. I'm being picked up at 3.15am. I've not finished packing.

I'm drinking cava though and trying to get my fecking laptop to work for half an hour so I can download some new music onto my Walkman. And waiting for the fake tan I've put on my legs to dry - my legs rarely tan anyway and I don't wanna be walking around Nerja in short skirts with completely white legs.

I just need to get all the stress of actual travelling out of the way (I'm not even INCLUDING the flight - the worst part - in this stress. That's a whole OTHER level of stress, haha.) and then I can put my Sun, Sea and Sangria plan into motion.

I'm hoping to have a week of complete relaxation with my mum and also to get the Best Tan Ever.

Ah, the elusive suntan. Sigh.

I do tan, don't get me wrong. But blessed with naturally rosy freckly skin, I don't tan a nice brown golden colour. My skin subscribes to a pinky-reddy-brown colour. Which is better than nothing for definite but still . . . Maybe this year will be my year.

I wonder if Work Crush will miss me . . .

Anyway, I guess I'll see you all in a week. Although I might try and let you know I get there in one piece, if my phone is up to it. I'll almost certainly still be on twitter anyway.

Have a good week, peeps!!!

Tuesday, 28 September 2010


So in three days time I shall be in the town of Nerja in Southern Spain, hopefully sunning myself on the beach. (The weather forecast is currently looking pretty good.)


It's a double-edged sword though as getting as much of my body tanned as possible requires a bikini . . . or, I suppose to be totally nude . . . and I am not really feeling quite ready for that right now.

The plan had been to use the holiday as motivation to lose weight. And, don't get me wrong, that (combined with a pact I made with a few other bloggers that would cost us money pounds if we didn't lose WEIGHT pounds) has certainly motivated me more than I have in years to try and lose weight. I have lost nearly seven pounds in the past few months due to a lot more exercise and cutting down on the vino and pizza a tad. And I am DEFINITELY more toned.

And I am lighter than I was when I was in Zante earlier on in the year. Technically I should feel more confident in a bikini.

I guess I'm just disappointed really. Because I had high hopes that I would be back to my formerly slim self before I went away. And while I can definitely see a difference, I just expected more.

I know I'm not overweight (although technically my weight before I started my most recent health regime was over the recommended BMI for my height - which I think is pretty ridiculous actually) but I still have got a good 10 pounds I would feel far more comfortable without. Preferably more than that.

I also know that I'm not going to have this lost in three days. I'm realistic enough to know that.

So here's the plan. I'm going to try really hard not to let the fact I've not lost the weight I want to lose already bother me.

I'm also going to try not to let the whole holiday thing cause me to put on the weight I HAVE Lost.

Don't get me wrong. I'm planning to indulge a bit. It's hard NOT to on holiday. (Especially when you can buy sparkling rose wine ridiculously cheap in the Mercadonnas in Spain) But we're going half board, with buffet type meals. I'm sure I can choose the healthy option for at least one of those meals. It'll be hot (I hope) so I will make sure I drink tons of water (something that never happens in Scotland!) Since I'm going with my mum, I will undoubtedly be walking a lot.

I can make this holiday work for me.

Oh, and a suntan is ALWAYS slimming.

So I'm setting a new goal. I'm going to do my best NOT to put weight on while I'm away, and I am aiming to drop those ten pounds I desperately want to shed by the end of November. I think that is a realistic aim, and I'm pretty sure, that with a little motivation, and dedication to my cause, I can do it.

The basic plan (which I'm actually making up as I type) will be:

***at least 20 mins of exercise five times a week (the exercise dvd I do is pretty hardcore and after 20 mins you definitely feel the effects). This is on top of the amount I walk (I walk to work and back pretty much every day which is a round trip of nearly 90 mins, and I walk fast) so there's a lot of exercise going on there.
***limiting my vino intake, especially the weeknight drinking. (possibly considering switching to vodka as well since it apparently has less calories.)
***drinking more water.
***forget the website address for Dominos Pizza delivery.
***and Pizza Hut. And Di Maggios.
***using my kettlebell weight more (rather than it doubling as a way to stop random strangers just falling into my room during the night).

Any more suggestions for how I can meet my goal?

Monday, 27 September 2010


Below is pretty much my favourite on-screen kisses in a film - Winona Ryder and Ethan Hawke in Reality Bites . . .

It actually just makes me want to melt into a puddle.

Is it wrong that I want real life kisses to be like that???

Other great kissing scenes? Ross and Rachel's first kiss in Friends. Josh and Cher in Clueless. Or how about the point where Buffy and Spike FINALLY got together and practically made a building fall apart with their passion.

Okay, considering I am not a vampire slayer and I don't know any vampires (I think?), I guess that last one would NEVER happen in real life. Oh well . . . *shrugs*

What's your favourite kiss scene in a movie and/or tv programme?

Sunday, 26 September 2010


When it comes to the issue of whether or not I am photogenic, it seems to be one extreme or the other for me. I either photograph really well or really badly. There doesn't really seem to be an in-between in my case.

Pictures of me taken from the side rarely look good, especially if I'm laughing (double chins, ahoy!). I also went through a phase of not being able to open both eyes properly in pictures. I mean, I THOUGHT I had my eyes open at the time and then when the picture was actually developed, I would realise that one of my eyes was half closed. Oh, and there was another double chin! Or something like that.

But when I was out on Thursday night and multiple pictures were being taken, I was talking to another girl about this. About how in this day and age, it's good to be able to check what the photos look like and delete then instantly if necessary. Rather than all this waiting around for the photos to be developed, only to discover you look absolutely horrendous in nearly all the photos.

"That being said," I added, "I don't actually MIND the odd bad photo of me. My theory is the bad ones make the good ones look even better."

"I never thought of it that way," the girl replied. "But what if ALL the pictures of you from a night out are bad."

I shrugged. "All you need to do is recreate it. Put on the outfit you were wearing at the night out and take a couple of good pictures of yourself."

"Are you joking?" she asked me.

Sadly? I wasn't, I have actually done that once or twice.

Don't tell anyone, 'kay?

Are you photogenic?

Wednesday, 22 September 2010


***Ensure you are stocking shelves or rails wherever a customer is trying to look. Y'know, cos they LIKE the challenge of trying to peer around you to see or reach the thing they are looking for.

***And if you arrive WHILE they are looking, make sure that you push them out of the way without so much as an "Excuse me" or "Sorry". Yeah, manners - or lack thereof - are not important.

***Yell at people in changing rooms for no apparent reason. Yep, customers LIKE that.

***Remember that the customer is always wrong. Repeat this mantra on a daily basis. Now you can take the high ground and look down on them.

***If they challenge how much change you have given them after a purchase, refuse to admit on any level that you might be wrong. Make THEM feel uncertain about it and apologise to YOU.

***If the customer asks for a bag to put their purchases in, inform them that they are ruining the environment. Refuse to consider that they might just not always be sensible enough to be carrying a spare bag on them.

***Oh, and speaking of bags, if a customer has bought a bottle of wine, a couple of tins, and a few other heavy-ish items, don't EVER consider double-bagging them or putting them into more than one bag. Because why SHOULD the customer miss out on their bag giving weigh under the weight halfway home? It just wouldn't be RIGHT now, would it?

***If you HAVE to be nice to the customer for any length of time, make sure it only continues until after they tell you they don't want the store card you are trying to entice them with. Otherwise, what's in it for you???

***Hover around where a customer is standing looking at something, and the second they move away from the item, rush over conspicuously and straighten it. Making them feel guilty for touching things is FUN!

If you were advising someone on how NOT to be a good shop assistant, what would you tell them to do?

Tuesday, 21 September 2010


On Sunday night, I went to a cider party. (Yup, on a school night. I survived. I even made it into work before 9am the following day. Perhaps I should start drinking cider rather than wine . . .) At about ten pm, me and my friend decided to head home. As we were leaving, the hosts of the party said they had a few things they wanted to get rid of and asked if we wanted any of them. My friend chose a garbage can- which caused much hilarity as she then had to go into Di Maggios to order a takeaway while holding a bin. Well, I thought it was funny anyway . . .

I, on the other hand, chose something more practical (in my opinion anyway) - a book of jokes. So, in honour of it being Tuesday, and me having a seriously fucked up head, I thought I would share a few of the jokes. I can't guarantee you'll like them, but they helped ME . . .

Little Tim was in the garden filling in a hole when his neighbour peered over the fence. Interested in what the cheeky faced youngster was up to, he politely asked "What are you up to there, Tim?"
"My goldfish died," replied Tim tearfully, without looking up. "And I've just buried him."
The neighbour frowned. "That's an awfully big hole for a goldfish, isn't it?"
Tim patted down the last heap of earth. "Well," he replied. "That's because he's inside your fucking cat."

Three new inmates are sitting in their cell, contemplating their futures.
The first takes out a mouth organ. "At least I can keep myself amused by playing a little music. It'll help to pass the time."
The second takes out a pack of cards. "We can while away the time playing poker" he says.
The third man takes out a box of tampons. "What the hell are you going to do with those?" the other two ask.
He grins and says "It says on the box i can ride, swim, ski and play tennis with these."

A woman wanders into a chemist and glances at the display counter.
"Excuse me," she asks the pharmacist after a few moments. Do you sell extra large condoms?"
"Yes we do," comes the reply. "Would you like to buy some?"
"No," says the woman, looking around. "But do you mind if I wait around until someone does?"

Anyone got any good jokes or links they fancy sharing to make my day that little bit better???

Saturday, 18 September 2010


It's Saturday night. I have alcohol. I SHOULD be relaxing and enjoying myself and making the most of my weekend or whatever.

Instead I am too keyed up and frustrated to actually relax. I COULD blame the fact I was up at five am this morning to go into work and do some overtime, but I'm not tired at all. I kinda wish I was. That way I could just talk myself into falling asleep right now.

At this precise moment, I would just like to fall asleep and hibernate for several months, until my life could align itself the way I want it (until I could work out exactly WHAT I want, for that matter) and then I could wake up and it would all be sorted for me.

Is that too much to ask?

I guess it probably is. Life would be way too easy that way.

But I WOULD look less tired . . . :)

Thursday, 16 September 2010


Last night I popped into town to meet my sister and her friend and we headed to the pub for some food and - of course - the always-necessary vino or twelve. Ah yes. Wine wine wine.

And when it only costs £5.99 for a bottle of Blossom Hill during the week, you can have wine all you want!

(Well, until they run out.)

So anyway, I went up to the bar to order the first bottle of wine and the bar dude stuck the bottle down in front of me. "Do you need anything else?" he asked me. I shook my head. He took my money, gave me the change, and walked off.

I stood there confused, wondering if he had forgotten one of the most vital parts of ordering a bottle of wine.

You know, like . . . WINE GLASSES!

He went on about his business and I caught the OTHER bar guy's eye. He could clearly see the problem and I guess was about to say to the other guy when the first guy clocked his mistake.

He collected my glasses and popped them down on the bar. "Sorry about that," he joked. "I just thought you wanted to swig it directly out of the bottle."

I started laughing. "Not the first time I've done that, trust me," I said.

His look said he judged me.

"Not in a PUB though," I hastened to add, before making a sharp exit.

But other places.

Like inside the cupboard of a hotel room in Belfast?

And THAT wasn't my first time. Believe me . . .

Sunday, 12 September 2010


  • I haven't posted in a few days. This isn't normal. Not for ME anyway.
  • I really like my soon-to-be-new-team-member in work. And it will be awesome to have another female in the team after being the sole one for more than two years now.
  • I can't decide whether I like Cheeky Vimtos or Woo-Woo cocktails better.
  • I drank copious amounts of both last night, just to check.
  • Still haven't decided. More experimentation is likely required.
  • Rose wine will always be my first love though. (I PROMISE, Rosy! Pinky (no pun intended) swear.)
  • Sometimes I need to hear a second opinion of a guy from a friend in order to decide how I feel about him.
  • This may make me feel like a teenager, but, hey, I'm not exactly the most mature of people anyway!
  • Bed is good. (It's nearly half past twelve and I'm still in bed.)
  • Overtime is NOT so good.
  • Although the extra money is good.
  • I don't really have much to talk about. Hence this rubbish cop-out of a blog post.
  • I'm sorry. I'm sure inspiration will return soon.

Good weekends, people???

Tuesday, 7 September 2010


A colleague today told me I was one of the few people he knew who looked younger in the time he knew me than older. I think that was a tad of an exaggeration but I took it at face value (no pun intended) anyway.

He asked me my secret.

I said I didn't know. I KNOW I look pretty young for my age, I STILL get ID'd occasionally (once in the pub just the other week, in fact). But I don't KNOW what my secret is. I don't think I even HAVE a secret.

He asked if it was genetics. I shrugged.

"I know!" he decided. "It's because you drink so much alcohol, it's preserving your youthful looks."

"So . . ." I said slowly. "You're saying it's like I'm PICKLED?"

"Yes!" he agreed smugly.

So there you go, folks, there's the secret of eternally youthful looks apparently. Just pickle yourself in alcohol!

Problem solved.

Apparently . . .

Sunday, 5 September 2010

27 . . .

Memories from childhood are generally blurry.

Weirdly enough, I always remember the night of Christmas Eve 1983 more clearly than the memories around them. As this was the night when my little brother Mark died. Another victim of cot death.

I remember when my parents realised that he was no longer breathing. Then I remember me and my sister ending up in a neighbour's house. I don't remember being particularly worried about anything - I was barely four years old. I was enjoying the attention of the neighbours, to be honest.

And then we never saw him again. He was just gone.

I don't think I quite realised what had happened until years later. I remember that me and my sister got Mark's share of the presents too. Less than a year later, my brother Brian was born.

Nowadays, it's something I try not to think about too much. Deep down, I'm quite glad that I was too young to realise what had happened. I was actually quite aware of my mortality really early on in life (I believe I was about eight when I realised I was going to die one day and asked my gran about it - I think she told me not to be so ridiculous) so had I realised back then, I probably would have taken it far harder.

Even now though, when I DO think about it, I get teary. I wonder just how awful my parents felt about it. I wonder why it was HIM that died. I hate the fact I missed out on knowing a sibling.

Today, the 5th September, he would have been 27 years old, had he lived. What would he have been like?

I'll never know.

And that makes me unbelievably sad.

I hope, wherever he is now, he's happy.

Happy Birthday, little brother. xx

Saturday, 4 September 2010


Everytime I think of this clip from Big Brother last night, I want to weep from laughing.

In case you don't know anything about Big Brother, the Nadia they are talking about? Is a transexual.

And Nikki doesn't seem to realise she has said anything wrong.

And as for Brian's reaction to it . . . effin' hilarious.

I think this could actually be the best line OF ALL TIME from Big Brother.

What do you think?

Thursday, 2 September 2010


I actually don't HAVE much news, but I feel an insane need to post all the same (am I an addict? Should I make a trip to Bloggers Anonymous?) It's Thursday, it's nearly the weekend. I should be happy.

Why am I not??? Grrr. Tonight will mainly be spent drinking cava (yes, I never learn my lesson, do I? You'd think yesterday's post would have taught me but oh no!), reading "Look" and "Star" magazine, browsing the net (and trying not to spend my nonexistent cash - y'know, since it IS nonexistent and all) and watching Ultimate Big Brother!!!

Is anyone watching it? I haven't watched normal Big Brother in a few years now, but I do generally watch Celeb BB when it's on. This is like the best Celeb BB ever - I am absolutely LOVING it! I'm dying to know if Chantelle and Preston are going to get back together (I read online today that Preston's current girlfriend has apparently dumped him now - things could get interesting) or if Nikki is going to have a massive temper tantrum (she's been remarkably subdued so far, which is almost a disappointment) or if Victor (who I LOVE this time around) and Nasty Nick Bateman are going to start scheming together. I will be soooo sad when it's over.

In other news, I found out today that the Pope is coming to visit Glasgow. The POPE!!! Does it make me a bad Catholic that I knew nothing about this? Possibly. Although me then asking my colleagues if the Pope earned a wage, because "he must get to live in that fancy place rent free" might confirm my decidedly lapsed status. Where DOES he live? I know it's in the Vatican somewhere (right?) but whereabouts???

I also broke out my final pair of coloured contacts today. I've tried pretty much every colour of them now (and freaked people out a lot apparently - when I'm on nights out and people are drunk they start saying to me "this is going to sound a bit mad, but did you have YELLOW eyes yesterday?" It's really very funny. To me.) apart from the green ones, which I held off doing since my eyes ARE green, but I do kinda want to try them still. Anyway, I only have a brown pair left now (I can't afford to buy more right now, so have just been having to stick to my boring old normal contacts) so I figured I may as well use them. I always wanted to have blonde hair and brown eyes, and now I do! Yay. :)

Oh, and in other good news, I am still hopefully going away with my mum for my 31st next month. Unfortunately, my desire to go back to my beloved Canary Islands probably won't happen due to the fact it is ludicrously expensive. Ibiza and Menorca, on the other hand, are half the price. Probably because the weather is fairly unreliable in the Balearics at that time of year, but do you know something? I'd rather risk it than be stuck in Scotland for another birthday. Especially since this one is a bit of an anti-climatic one after last year's.

Do I have any other news? Um . . . no, not really. I'm just in a bad mood. I can't really explain it. Or it's a long story, and I still can't explain it, cos it makes no sense, not even in my own messed up head. So there you go.

What's YOUR news? (And seriously, where DOES the Pope live?)

Wednesday, 1 September 2010


1~ Bragging that you often come to work with a two-bottles-of-wine hangover is NOT actually the best way to impress a guy. (I found that one out yesterday)

2 ~ Going to work in the FIRST place with a two-bottles-of-wine hangover means you have a sore head, lack of focus, the occasional (or frequent) thought that you may be sick, a complexion similar to someone drained of all their blood by a thirsty vampire . . . and the constant longing to be back in bed, hugging your pillow and having mildly filthy dreams. (I found that one out today.)

Moral of the story: wine tastes great. The aftertaste though . . . not always so great.

Get the word out, folks . . .

What is your least favourite thing about hangovers?

Tuesday, 31 August 2010


I was walking into town after work to meet my sister for a drink or 20, when a guy from my work caught up with me. After I exhausted the etiquette of thanking him for inviting me to his wedding and congratulating him on a good old shindig, I kind of ran out of conversational juice. Give me a break. I'd been working hard all day, was gagging for a vino, and he wasn't making all that much of an effort.

Word to the wise. When there is a silence, when you don't make an effort to fill it, I will. And it will probably involve something weird that you don't need to know about.

Like my tights.

And how they were falling down within five minutes of me leaving the flat this morning.

And how the top of them rolled down and the rest of them wriggled down until I was terrified that the crotch of my tights was actually peaking out beneath the shorter-than-even-I-realised tea dress I was wearing.

And I was walking with my legs pushed tightly together in the hope that no one would notice.

And "did you know, there is NO attractive way to pull your tights back up???"

And how I was walking along the street, trying to look around to find a time that I COULD pull the tights up when there was no one else around, and then realising that I actually had WINDOWS On one side of me, and that there were offices contained on the other side of these windows and that in fact "just because there is glass between me and these other people doesn't mean they can't see me!!!"

Funnily enough, my colleague quickly made an excuse and walked up a random side street.

I'm not entirely sure I can blame him.

But word to the wise . . . if you're with me and there's an awkward silence? Please try and fill it . . . BEFORE I DO!!!!!

Monday, 30 August 2010


Okay, so hot on the heels of yesterday's post, here's another job related one. A commenter yesterday asked me to expand on the con artist story, and I've been asked about this in the past too. I always meant to post about it, but it is all a bit long winded so I've put it off before now. But okay . . . it's about time, I've waited over 2 years, and if I don't tell this story, you're more than likely just going to have me whining about my belated quarter life crisis, so I think I'll spare you that for now and tell you my sad tale of how naive little me (and a couple of other people) got sucked in by a big fat liar.

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.

Back in 2003, I was working for Directory Enquiries when I got a job through my flatmate's sister, to work as a receptionist in a law firm. After a week of it, I already hated it, and resigned, saying I would work my full month's notice just so that I would have time to look for a job. Two days after I finally left the company, I got a job with Scottish Power. This wasn't ideal for me, as it meant nearly an hour on a bus each way every day, so I very quickly told my bosses in there I was looking for something else. I went for a couple of job interviews without success, and then one day I hit pay dirt. Or so I thought.

One of the agencies I was signed up with sent me on an interview for a new company starting up in the city centre. It was described to me as a property website/zine type job, where I would be a "city editor". I would be assigned to deal with a certain American city on the website, research properties that were available and source journalists and freelance writers to write pieces on the area.

Sounds good, right? To me, with my marketing degree, and my interest in magazines and websites, and my desire to travel, it sounded pretty good. I didn't think I would get it though.

I turned up to the interview and basically walked into what appeared to be a building site. The inside of the office was in the process of getting done up, and was extremely rough looking. There was another girl sitting there waiting to be interviewed (she's still a good friend of mine these days.) so I had to wait until she had her interview. Then, remarkably quickly, it was my turn.

I was welcomed by a rather large blonde American lady. Her charm was immense. In fact, she was the type of person who could have sold snow to eskimos. She blew me away with her enthusiasm for her project, talked up the job to the stage where I would have done virtually anything to get it . . . then told me I had the job.

I should have known something was wrong there. I've rarely been offered a job without actually being asked any questions.

So that was alarm bell number one.

More alarm bells that I chose to ignore followed.

1) On the first day, I was the first to turn up. She rewarded me by sending me out to buy a hammer. Do I LOOK like the sort of person who knows where to buy a hammer??? I ran about Glasgow, sweating nervously, panicking, and scared to go back unless I found one. By the time I DID get back, my new colleagues were all there and about five minutes later, she told us we could go home.

2) We were phoned by the agency every other day that week to be told that the lady's kids were sick and we didn't need to go in. But, we were assured, we would still be paid. There wasn't any question about this. Considering I don't think any of us had signed a contract at this stage, that seems a bit odd now.

3)One of the first jobs we had was to strip wallpaper off the walls in the office. Yes, because THAT was in our job description. (Oh wait, we hadn't signed anything, remember? I guess we could do whatever she wanted in that case.)

4)Another task we were asked to do was phone property companies in the States, pretending to be interested in apartments and getting the details of them. I think she wanted to steal the details and put them on HER website. I managed one call, where I ended up having to conduct an entire conversation in the worst American accent you would have ever heard. I'm pretty sure the woman on the other end of the line knew I was faking. By the end of it, I was trembling all over and bright red with shame and mortification.

5)We were told by the agency the starting salary would be between 12500 pounds and 145000 pounds dependent on experience. I was offered 12500 which at the time I was perfectly happy with. We later discovered the sole guy we worked with had been offered 14500. Two of the girls decided to kick up a fuss, and she immediately agreed to give us all 14500. Who agrees to raising four people's wages by 2 grand that easily? Hmmm.

Oh, and alarm bell number 6??? Oh . . . that would be the most important one.

She didn't pay us.

The time for being paid came and went two or three times. She would assure us there had been some sort of glitch with her bank. Naively, we would believe this. She eventually gave us cheques as an alternative. Something inside me told me not to spend that money. Sure enough, the bank returned it to me.

In the meantime, I was working a massive dent into my savings, and working up a massive debt to my mother. Neither was ideal, but I still believed that this woman would do right by us in the end.

Eventually one day, she sat us down and told us she wouldn't be able to pay us for the indefinite future. She suggested we went out and got temp jobs, and then when she had all her financial matters sorted, we could come back - and that we'd get our money back at this stage.

The weeks went past. We all found other jobs, albeit temporary ones, and it didn't appear that we would be getting the money we were owed anytime soon. A couple of us decided to go to a lawyer. But just as we were sorting out an agreement with our lawyer, HER lawyer got in touch with an agreement that we would get our money paid back to us as long as we kept the matter confidential. Or something like that. The details are a bit blurry with time, this was 6 years ago now.

(I never got that money back. Therefore I don't think I need to keep the matter confidential. Anyway, I'm not naming names.)

A month or two later, me and my friend were offered jobs again. She said she was back on her feet as a property rental company now. She offered my friend the reception role and me an admin role, but she said she wanted to get me involved in wording the adverts etc.

Yes, she knew how to push my buttons all right. She was the puppet master, I the helpless little puppet who actually believed she wanted to help us, and that she believed that I would be good at the job.

Deep down, she probably just chose the most gullible one.

I remember discussing it with my friends, my boyfriend at the time, my mum. They were all dubious, all advised me against it. But that they'd support me whatever I decided. I wish they'd all been more firm with me now, maybe if I hadn't felt I had an element of choice, I wouldn't have gone back.

But I did.

And for few months it seemed okay. Because of bank problems, she was paying us in cash and (allegedly) sorting out the income tax/national insurance side of it. It was only when we started having to fend off angry calls from landlords we started to suspect that our wages were coming from the rent that was meant to be going into THEIR pockets.

After this realisation, things started to move fast, and the last thing I really remember of the position was being locked in the office while an angry landlord banged on the door outside demanding to see my boss. I don't even REMEMBER how we got out of that one. Articles started to appear in the papers about how she was a fraudster and had been arrested for such crimes in the past. Luckily I got another temp job at that point and moved on.

I got paid for most of that second stint, but never got any of the money from the first time around.

I stayed in touch with my boss, figuring that it was better to play nice and keep in contact in the hope of getting my money, than not at all. Then, one day, just as she had been PROMISING that the money would be along shortly, I found out that two of the ex employees had decided to report her to the tv consumer programme Watchdog.

I actually contacted one of them, who I was still friendly with, and tried to convince him not to do it.

Which is when he told me that, early on in our employment with her first time around, he had been driving her to see a client and she'd went off on a rant about me and how I had a negative attitude and was always whining. He hadn't wanted to tell me at the time but since I was sticking up for her, he thought I should know.

I thought this was a bit of a cheek of her, since I had actually been the most positive about the lack of money we had received, but I continued to try to be nice to her, because I still figured that I was better off keeping her on side.

But then she just vanished completely. Her phone stopped working, and she was just gone.

I guess she had to. She did, after all, owe loads of people money. Her employees, her clients. The swanky apartment she was staying in. Probably her Tae Bo and yoga instructors she apparently had. Her sons' private school fees.

(Despite this amazing lifestyle she had, if you questioned her about the whereabouts of your wage, she would complain how skint she was and how she only had seven pounds to her name and a hole in her shoe. No matter what day you asked her on, she always had seven pounds. Which was weird. The hole in her shoe? That was just sloppy.)

I ended 2004, thanks to her, in a temp job I loathed, boyfriendless (the whole work situation had left me depressed, miserable and clingy, and he couldn't handle me anymore), without any savings, and owing my mum two grand. It took me ages to get back on track and pick myself back up again but eventually I managed it. No thanks to that woman.

I learned a few lessons from it anyway, the main one was not to be as gullible and naive. It was stupid of me to go back again, I know that now. But it certainly taught me that there are people out there who will just take, take and take some more from you.

As far as I'm aware, she's still out there. Still in this country even. Still up to her scams.

I can only hope that karma bites her in the arse one day. Because she deserves it. Bigtime.

Sunday, 29 August 2010


On the 15th August, I celebrated my fifth year in my current workplace.

Five years. Bloody hell. This is somewhat of a record for me. I've actually done two different jobs within the company, but the time I spent in BOTH of those jobs is longer than I've ever held down another post with another company.

And believe me, I've had far worse jobs. A sixteenth month stint in Directory Enquiries, where I answered between 900 and 1200 calls every day giving out phone numbers to the people of Britain who chose to call 192. Three months in the toy department of John Lewis in the run-up to Christmas. Two stints working for what turned out to be a con artist (which actually wasn't that bad a job - apart from the whole not-getting-paid thing, that is.) Two receptionist jobs that made me realise I could not under any circumstances be a receptionist EVER AGAIN. I could go on. I've had about 15 different jobs. But I won't subject you to it.

So I don't actually mind my job that much most of the time. The problem is though, I've still not managed to work out what the heck I want to do with my life. Well, I still hold out the dream of one day writing a book. But in the meantime, while I work out the kinks on that one, it would be nice to actually find my dream job.

Unfortunately, the vacancies for rose wine testers are few and far between.

And when it comes down to it, I'm pretty sure that THAT would be my dream job.

Shame. :)

Do any of you have what you deem the perfect job? If not, what would BE your dream job?

Friday, 27 August 2010


  • Having a week off from work is awesome. BUT if you spend four days in another country getting drunk, followed by doing the Glasgow Sub Crawl approximately 12 hours after you get home . . . you kinda need ANOTHER week to recover.
  • And therefore you will be exhausted for the entire working week which follows.
  • Drinking alcohol helps me get to sleep better. (See? Now I can go with the "it's medicinal" line. Medicinal wine - the new sleeping pill . . .)
  • Forgetting to take my phone to work with me makes me feel like I've had a limb amputated. I keep looking for it, and can't believe it's not there. I also then worry that people have been trying to get in touch with me ALL day . . .
  • Only to find that I have received no phone calls and one text message. Ooooh . . . the Miss Popularity 2010 could be mine ANYDAY.
  • In work, I am a stomper. The guys on my team know I'm in the office before I walk in the door. Since they told me this, I'm growing increasingly aware of it. And paranoid about it. I try NOT to stomp but it won't happen. It's not just me, at least. Apparently, according to my colleagues, most of my colleagues are other girls around the same size as me. So perhaps it's some sort of small-girl-complex. Without us even WANTING it to happen. All I know is I walked in the door this morning, caught my two colleagues already there looking at each other knowingly and laughing and, when I said "You knew that was me, didn't you?" they both laughed and agreed. How do I walk more lightly? This is a lesson I need to learn.
  • Another interesting (to me) point? When I am LEAVING for the day, I don't stomp. Related???
  • If someone MENTIONS pizza to me, I want pizza. Then and there. I WILL go home and order it.
  • I ALWAYS overorder when it comes to pizza. This results in pizza for breakfast.
  • If I DO eat pizza for breakfast, vowing to be good for the rest of the day, that is BOUND to be the day that a colleague brings a delicious treat into work. Like the most DELICIOUS cupcakes I have ever tasted.
  • I will STILL eat a cupcake. Less than two hours after my pizza breakfast.
  • The film "Stepbrothers" is actually a lot funnier than I thought it would be.
  • Cava is delicious. But then I knew that anyway. So did you, I'm sure . . .

What have YOU learned this week? Any good weekend plans?

Thursday, 26 August 2010


I have always had a tendency to get involved with guys I work with.

I guess it's only natural. I'm naturally pretty shy, I'm not GOOD at dating, I'm not good at being chatted up by a random stranger, and I don't suffer from many cases of lust-at-first-sight, as in "Oh my god, I just HAVE to have that stranger standing right across the room even though I've never met him before in my life." (I live in Glasgow, after all, not a Hollywood movie.)

(Speaking of Hollywood, think how many actors and actresses meet - or cheat - on filn sets with their co-stars. Just saying.)

So it follows, therefore, that most of the guys I DO meet and talk to are through work.

My first proper boyfriend was a colleague in the department store where I had my first fulltime job. My second was a colleague I shared a computer with for a week, during training in another job. I wasn't even attracted to him at the beginning, but by the end of that week, I had gotten to know him and liked him in a MAJOR way. He turned out to be a first class arsehole in the end (left the job and then dumped me through a friend, while having his mum fend off my phone calls) but it's formed a bit of a pattern since, the whole work romance thing.

Obviously, after several failed romances and an ill-advised fling, I realised that the whole work romance thing possibly wasn't all it was cracked up to be. So I tried the whole hooking up with a guy I went to school with thing. That was with F, of course, and it turned out to also be an F for fail (although a fun few months were had, admittedly.) Then I tried the whole meeting a guy at a party thing (Swine Guy). Look how that turned out.


So looking back it's probably not the work romance thing that failed, perhaps it was my choices. :) I dunno, What I DO know though is that when you ARE having a thing with a colleague, it certainly makes WORK more entertaining. Trust me, anything that livens one's job up is a good thing. It can be like being back at school at times - seeing the object of your crush in the classroom, or walking by in the playground. Remember how fun THAT was?

And you know what the other does for a living and who they work with, so if you're ever at a loss for conversation, at least you have that to fall back on. Work gossip CAN be fun after all. :)

You can see them even when they don't want to see you. (That sounds stalkerish. Oh well.)

On the downside though, when they break your heart, you have to see them. Even when they don't want to see you. Even when YOU don't want to see them.

I've been there. More than once. And that is a killer. Trust me.

That being said . . . I wouldn't rule a work romance out again. Unless I end up working somewhere one day where it is completely forbidden. If it's right, it's right and all that.

I guess it just depends on whether I find the right one there. :)

What's your opinion on office romances? Have you ever done it? Would you? Share your stories, don't be shy!