Writer's block

Upon complaining to my friends today that I was struggling for a topic for my latest entry, I was challenged to write about chips.

"Which kind?", I replied, "potato-based or poker?"

"BOTH!" came the reply.

I wonder where chips (the edible kind) came from originally. I remember reading (or seeing) in an Asterix book some years ago one of the characters (Getafix?) boiling chipped root vegetables in hot oil in a cauldron. Does this mean French Fries are the origin? Oh dear. One of our national dishes is a French import. Sacre bleu!

Anyway. I like chips. Not so much without any condiment though. My main choices in this area are mayonnaise (Hellman's) and/or tomato ketchup (Daddies). I write 'and/or' because I'm not exactly averse to having a dollop of ketchup on one side of the plate and a dollop of mayonnaise on the other. But never a chip with both dressings together. What do you take me for?!

I have also been known to crave salt and vinegar on chips, but not often. Acid reflux and dehydration after-effects make those additions less appealing. (And the blood pressure! Don't forget the blood pressure!)

While I'm at it, let's have a little preach too. If you have fish with your chips, try to go for less common types. Cod is being fished to the brink of the abyss, as is haddock to a lesser extent. Ever considered hake or plaice? Scrummy is an accurate description. Both are white fish like cod and haddock, and plaice in particular has a juicy, sweet taste.

Poker chips are another matter. I've not tried, but I doubt very much that they are palatable no matter how much ketchup, mayonnaise, vinegar or salt are ladled on. I find they are better suited for substituting cold, hard cash in games of poker. As their name would suggest.

I previously mentioned owning some poker chips myself. I do have a third, much nicer set which are smaller than regular chips and clay-based. Again, I've not tried eating those either.

I don't have much to add on the subject of poker chips. I'm sure that most truthful* of websites, Wikipedia, can sate your thirst for knowledge, though.

*To be taken with a pinch of salt. (But not too much – think of your blood pressure!)

Anger

I feel angry today. I don't think I have felt it all day but I certainly wasn't feeling on top of the world when I woke this morning. I've felt kind of near the end of my tether and liable to snap given the right provocation.

I had that provocation about two hours ago and my stubborn self won't let me admit that part of the problem is mine. I take criticism badly and that's what triggered it.

I was told recently that anger is our illogical, unthinking self reacting how it wants to external stimulus. Right now I can see the point of the person who told me that. Had I thought about how what I was being told was making me feel, maybe I could have controlled my reaction and potentially not hurt the feelings of the other person.

Is it progress when you can see how lessons you've been taught can be applied in reality? Is that what learning is? If so, when do I consider that I have learnt what I was taught? Now? When I apologise to the person I reacted like this to? Or when a similar circumstance occurs and I behave with consideration for others?

I'd like it to be now, I know it won't be and I geniunely think it won't be until I moderate my actions and behaviour in the future. I find this depressing, because it means there's another negative situation waiting for me in the future and I don't want to confront it. Also it's disappointing that despite my enlightenment (for want of a better word) right now, I can't claim the knowledge in practise as mine. Hence I am impatient too.

This is a depressing entry today, and I apologise for it. I'm just in that mood today.

Secretarial genius

In case you were all wondering, the launch party went beautifully the other day and raised more money than we had hoped.

Filled with excitement (and lots of coffee – I didn't get to sleep much before 2am Monday morning) and buoyed with ideas I spent Monday and Tuesday drafting letters to thank our donors and to ask local businesses for donations for our next event.

Why do this so soon?

I wanted to capitalise on the good feeling shared by the rest of the committee in then ext meeting to dissect the launch, and get their approval for my letter templates.

However this was not the limit of my planning. As secretary, my main roles are to take and distribute the minutes and organise all correspondence. To this extent I remembered how good it was in the past that Comic Relief had bestowed a personalised certificate of thanks in addition to a letter of the same. This can be displayed more easily than a letter, so why can't my committee do the same?

Some of the committee members are not au fait with MS Word's capabilities (it might have its negatives but it also does many tasks without too much swearing on the user's part). I knocked up a few different variations of a certificate with our logo, borders, watermarks, WordArt et cetera to demonstrate my ideas to the others.

Am I nervous?

Well, I was.

The meeting was last night and I'm extremely pleased as my letters got the okay from everyone. The certificate idea was a completely different matter. Without trying to sound smug, they're a hit!

This means I also have a fight ahead of me. As the certificates have to be signed, it's more efficient to print them pre-signed so later this evening I've got to learn how to use the scanner part of my spangly new printer which is currently sitting dormant in the corner. Then it's just to test out different weights of paper and card (unfortunately we don't have the resources to laminate the certificates) and get the first batch sent off with letters of thanks.

I think I could really get to like this secretarial work. I could have an alter ego, superhero outfit – the works!

Sahara Desert IS Secretary Girl!

What you thought you knew

I was treated to the near breakdown of my very soul today when two different people told me that what I thought I knew about letter writing I did not at all.

How did this happen to me?

For the majority of my life I've been under the impression that letters to people whom you are acquainted with are signed off 'yours sincerely', if not then use 'yours faithfully'. This has been a staple of my letter writing ever since I can remember.

When I was writing a draft template today for my charidee work, two friends (who do not know each other) kindly offered to give me their much-needed comments and feedback. Which of course, included both of them telling me I was signing off my letters completely incorrectly.

I'm in a total quandary! Do I seek therapy through my GP? Do I track down the teacher/s who imparted this clearly-false information to me, torture them before beheading them in a fit of knowledge-system failure to sate my extreme* bewilderment? Do I stop whining about it? (No chance – this is prime blog material!)

What hasn't helped is, as a regular user of Snopes, (I am SICK of those emails sent to me by well-meaning people telling me I just had my PIN stolen by the unsuspecting looking stranger who's now wafting a business card under my nose with plans to rape, stab and kill me to death on a petrol forecourt), I would normally treat being told that something I take to be the correct form is not so with a hefty pinch of salt (watch that blood pressure!).

Wanted: Salt. Last seen smothering chips to death.

But I was soon the recipient of an email from a third friend cheerily offering me a link to the Basildon Bond website confirming what the first two friends were telling me.

I've lost all faith in my skills as a letter-writer (which I do for my parents) and feel ashamed. I'm sure I'll be looking in the local estate agents' window soon for a comfortable, well-appointed rock beneath which to live for the rest of my days.

*Well I feel shaken slightly, to say the least. Like I need a sit-down while hugging a soft toy.

A new venture

This evening sees my first social engagement in my new venture (if that's the right word for it). Long story short, I got roped into the secretarial role for a charity committee about a month ago as it is a new group raising funds in and around a nearby town. The suggested committee member was not at all keen on taking up the role (which is understandable – it's a role which needs experience in a secretarial and administrative environment and I can't say I blame her) so I was guilt-tripped into it by my beloved mater.

It's for charidee, great mate!

Tonight is the committee's launch party including an auction (having seen the lots on offer, I certainly wouldn't mind taking a shot at one or two of them myself) and frankly, I'm feeling increasingly more and more terrified.

Why? I think mainly because I'll be there in an official committee capacity and be expected to talk up the charity to strangers. I hope I might be able to put my assertiveness training into play but I've a fear words will escape me and I'll stupidly end up getting one of the other committee members to charm which ever person has just collared me.

I think I should emphasise just how much I want the launch to go well. I've been worried for a while now as the committee (through reasons I'm not going to go into here) were unable to pick the day of the launch and holding a function on a Sunday evening isn't ideal. (I'm glad I'm driving so won't have the chance to turn up for work tomorrow feeling worse for wear.)

There are (were?) fifty spaces available for guests but the last time I spoke to the chairlady she had numbers around forty. My worst idea of the evening is for people to be making speeches to a half-filled room, and us struggling to garner bids for the prizes.

You! Are you bidding? A MILLION POUNDS?! SOLD!

There you have it. I'm a worrier and right now I can't help but think of the worst possible scenario. (I mean, not apocalyptic, 'function area blowing up and people running from the launch on fire' worst possible scenario, but the launch not going as swimmingly as it could.

My afore-mentioned mother dearest has voiced some similar concerns but I don't think she's aware just how much a small part of me is dreading this evening.

Fingers crossed! *gulp*

Twitter FAQ

I wrote this for a friend today, and I want to share, because I'm that kind of gal! I make no apologies for errors contained.

The Sahara Desert Twitter FAQ

WTF is this Twitter malarky?!
You know the status update part of Facebook? To put it bluntly, Twitter's literally just that but without all the spammy advertising, "do you like this" thumbs up/down bollocks, applications, photo albums etc.

How do I get friends?
You don't. Not because you're a loser but because they're not called that on Twitter. Instead, you follow people whose updates you want to read, and you get followers who want to see your updates. Sounds very cult-ish but so far I've not seen Twitter catch fire like David Koresh's Waco HQ.

Jaysus, I don't want every Tom, Dick and Pervy Pete seeing my witty, intelligent updates! Twitter can go spin.
Don't be so hasty! If you have a protected account, someone may request to follow you and see your updates and you can approve or tell them where to shove their adoration as you see fit.

Well that's okay! I'm being very stalkery and am following eleventy billion other users. Is there a special name for their updates as I see them when I log in?
Yes! It's called a feed. This also appears when you click 'Home' at the top of the screen.

Like a pig trough?
No. Stop being stupid.

Sorry. Are there any other names I should know?
If you like. Voila! One vocabulary.
An update is a tweet
A common form of addressing your followers in a tweet is to call them Tweeple
You can see how someone you're following made a tweet: under their text it will say "8 [or whenever] minutes ago from" followed by the method they used:
web (updated on Twitter itself)
TweetDeck (a download designed for tweeting)
Tweetr (a download designed for tweeting) - you can see more downloads here http://twitter.com/downloads
txt (sending a text to your account)

I want to reply to someone's tweet because I have a clever insight to impart. How can I make sure they see it?
Start your tweet off with @ followed by their username ie: @twitterperson (that's a made-up user by the way) then write your message. A quick way of doing this is to click on the little grey arrow which appears when you move your cursor over a tweet. However, this does not guarantee the other person will see your tweet - you also have to rely on them checking their @ replies.

How do I check any @ replies I might have?
Click on the @[your username] link on the right hand side of your screen.

I want to bitch about all but one of my followers but I want to keep it private. Help!
Click into Direct Messages, select the follower you wish to message from the drop-down box, then write your message in the box.

I've seen a lot of people following someone pretending to be Stephen Fry. It's an imposter, right?
No, it's really, really Mister Fry of QI, Blackadder and Jeeves & Wooster fame.

Why does everyone but me follow Stephen Fry?
Because he's erudite, funny, intelligent, technologically savvy, and because we can't think for ourselves.

So are there any other 'tweeple' who have waltzed with Lady Fame?
Yes. This site is handy if you want to go into stalker mode: http://celebsthattwitter.com/The_List.html

I found the funniest website ever, and I want to tell my followers about it, but Twitter only lets me have 140 characters per tweet. This is frustrating, to say the least.
At first, yes, but happily Twitter will automatically reduce the url (the website address) when you click send, and convert it into a shortened url, which, when clicked, will direct the reader to the site you want to show them.

Can I reduce urls myself without relying on Twitter?
Yes. I use Tiny URL: http://www.tiny.cc/ . Follow the instructions on the page, it's very easy.

How can I change the colour of my home page?
Click on Settings (top of page), select the Design tab and go mental.

Some tweeple's pages have designs which aren't in Twitter's range of themes. Tell me I'm not going mad, please!
You're not. Yet. They've got more time than sense and have worked hard at their layouts. You can follow suit should you wish to become a social hermit. On the design tab, scroll down and click Change background image (where you can upload your own purdy picture) and/or Change design colours (where you can change the colours (like what it says in a Cuprinol kinda way)).

Screw that for a game of monkeys, I'm a social butterfly don'tchaknow. Learn me something else, please!
Alright, you impatient sod. From the Settings page you can also update your Account details (email address, username etc), Password (no explanation needed), Devices (so you can tweet by text), Notices (what emails you receive from Twitter), Picture (small square image that appears next to your tweets) and Connections (users who you've allowed to access your account).

I keep seeing the hash symbol in tweeple's tweets. What's that all about?
It's called a Hashtag. They are explained here: http://hashtags.org/ . To put it bluntly, if you are tweeting something you want to get a wider audience than just your followers. Precede a pertinent word in your tweet, such as in a tweet about shit tennis players at the popular annual tournament, #wimbledon, ie: "That Andy Murray's a Brit when he's winning and a Scot when he's a lanky waste of space #wimbledon". That would get more attention than tweeting exactly the same but hashtagging the word 'when'.

Can I see the most popular hashtags?
Yes. On the right of your homepage is Trending Topics. The list shows the most popular topics, and a lot of them are hashtags.

I heard about Twitter a lot in the recent news coverage following the democratic* election in Iran. What happened?
Due to the 'freedom of speech' Iranians have, the demonstrations were apparently organised a lot using Twitter.

Did Twitter blow up?
Not quite. During times of intense media focus (like the Iranian election and the death of Michael Jackson), websites such as Google, Reuters news agency, BBC etc, as well as Twitter have a lot of extra users (or 'traffic') which puts strain on their servers. This causes them to slow down or crash. That presumably prompts the suits to soil their undergarments and IT monkeys to perform their interpretation of the last minutes of a decapitated chicken.

What other websites are there which might be handy in my tweeting adventures?
Each time you refresh your home page on Twitter, on the right hand side (beneath your name, followers, following and updates) is a white box which links to Twitter-related websites. Here are some as well.
http://wefollow.com/
http://www.twellow.com/
http://beta.twittervision.com/
http://blip.fm/
http://www.twittertitters.com/
http://buzz.trazzler.com/

Wow. I feel like I could waste days on Twitter now! Thanks!
Join the club.

*democratic my arse.

This guide was bought to you by the letters Q, Z and the number twelvety.

Chores

Yesterday morning I woke up and thought to myself, I shall be mindful. To this end my reaction was to stuff all my bed linen in for a wash. Bear in mind, dear reader, this was about two minutes before I absolutely, positively have to leave for work.

My inner genius strikes again!

This meant that, given a fight between me, the duvet and the duvet cover usually takes about fifteen minutes and invariably ends with me losing badly, sobbing in the corner, I left it until I got home last night to put fresh linen on the bed.

But only after I've made my dinner (lemon and dill sauce is heaven), eaten it, made lunch for today, watched Universally Challenged (stock answer: Dave. And yay, some of the questions were based on Gustav Holst's Planet Suite) and What To Eat Now (Valentine Warner is a naughty public schoolboy and I LOVE him - YUM! WOW!).

Valentine Warner models the latest in country gent fashion - eel cravat!

So in other words nine o'clock rolls around and I have to work up the energy to make my bed something I want to actually sleep on rather than curl up on the sofa watching The Wire* then stay there for the night.

To cut a potentially long story short, I didn't end up inside the duvet cover (hurrah!) and won the fight in about 45 minutes. Go me!

*Bad BBC! Putting such a good show on so late! BAD!

BBC schedulers: Omar Little gon' fuck you up.

Poker

I went to dinner last night at a friend's house – what was previously going to be a celebration barbeque for the completion of their extension and to celebrate their anniversary and a birthday but the weather put paid to that.

As often happens at gatherings of my circle of friends, a round of poker was in the offering for after-dinner entertainment and as the exact number of people going for dinner was uncertain until I arrived, I was asked to take my poker chips.

I happen to have two sets of chips, courtesy of Argos (for when I hold a poker evening), so I took both. On occasion we've used a LOT of chips in our games.

I should add that I only started playing poker about a year or so ago, and I'm not a confident player. I keep a crib sheet with the ten different poker hands in with the chips. This proves very handy during games, not just for me, but also is a dead giveaway and makes bluffing nigh on impossible.

A game of poker last week. Crib sheet not shown.

However because I own the two sets of chips and have a crib sheet, I had a good deal of problems trying to work out whether to bet or not, because one of my friends there – a few sheets to the wind, I should add – decided that I should know what I was up to, obtained the sheet and started to test me on it though it was still my turn!

Safe to say I was knocked out of the game, but not first which was pleasing. Of ten of us there I came fifth.

I should add this was in part down to me folding a good few times, and towards the end desperately clinging onto the last two chips I had in a pathetic manner until I was forced by the big blind. Curses!

The Right Thing

I recently started reading Private Eye on a regular basis, after picking up the odd issue here and there over the past six months or so.

And it makes me feel bad.

Not bad in the sense I shouldn't read it, because I should. It's informative, witty and edited by Ian Hislop who is a great sport and mainstay of Have I Got News For You.

Boys and their toys. Bless.

But when I say it makes me feel bad, I mean it makes me feel impotent and highlights just how filled with bureaucracy this country's government is and how nothing ever seems to change given the references the publication will litter its articles with "Eyes passim" & "Eye ad finitum", when a current topic has been covered before, either ten issues or ten years ago.

It makes me want to switch voting habits, but to whom? The recent Telegraph expenses story has demonstrated to me that anyone of the main three parties can't be trusted (not that I did anyway, but I voted for the best of a bad bunch, and I voted because people have died for my right to do so).

At the last local and European elections, I was confronted with a ballot paper with the choice of Labour, Conservative or Lib Dem (I stuck with my usual choice in that case) and a ballot paper longer than my arm. I found myself nearly considering to spoil it, horrified as I was at the amount of BNP-lite candidates given on it. Thinking sensibly I didn't and managed to vote away from my usual choice and away from the other two of the main three parties. I think I felt good about this, but the party in question is not my chosen representative in the EU.

Private Eye also makes me fear for ever being sued or having to have any legal issues. Okay, I'm not an avid viewer of legal programmes, fact or fiction, and the ones which did interest me more dealt with the US legal system – yes, I'm squinting at the malnourished figure of Ally McBeal here.

Ally McBeal in paperweight mode.

What I read in Private Eye are tales of complicated appeals, rulings, injunctions and years of stress for those involved be they corrupt or not. It makes me shudder to even consider a situation where I’d have to go through any kind of legal wrangling.

However there is something which has piqued my interest which is being covered in the magazine. There is a fellow name of Simon Singh (http://www.simonsingh.net/) whose case can be read about here: http://www.senseaboutscience.org.uk/index.php/site/project/333/

Although I failed my science courses at 6th Form, I still find the subject fascinating. Mr Singh's case is important and fascinating. I hope you find it the same way too.

I shall keep reading Private Eye – to keep up with events in the Simon Singh case and to continue to make myself aware of issues which I feel aren't covered in as much detail elsewhere in the media. And to enjoy their macabre humour and sly wit.

Assertiveness

I attended a course on assertiveness today, in a bid to become a nicer, less argumentative person.

If I fail, I fear I will become the crazy old lady who stands in the street shouting at litter, whom small children fear and teenagers ridicule. I think I’d like to grow old disgracefully, in full charge of all my senses and knowing exactly what I'm up to as I get dragged kicking and screaming from a children's playground by the rozzers.

This is now forming a magnificent picture in my mind. My blotchy, greyscale image adorning the notice boards of local churches, village halls and community centres along with a big red 'WARNING' displayed above it. I want a special code for the filth to use whenever I am reported causing social unrest. A one-woman riot, that's what I'll be!

"Uh, dispatch, this is unit 2504, we have a uh… 10-45 in progress. Again. Over."
"(Aw jeez.) Roger 2504, please state your location. Over."
"Uh, dispatch we are at the Meadow Road park."
(sound of sobbing and screeching over radio)
"Please send immediate back up. Over."
"Roger 2504, armed support approaching at speed."

I should add, I don’t want to become a criminal and locked up. I just want to be old, get away with very bad behaviour and go out with a bang. Who wants to go out with a whimper?

Twitter and the media

Relaxing (does clutching at one's midriff in fear of seeing one's last meal magically reappear count as relaxing?) yesterday evening I was treated to an advertisement break between segments of Ladette to Lady.

Gillian Harbord

Ten pints of White Lightening later she was seen fast asleep in a rhodedendron bush

One of these ads was for Fanta soft drink and I happened to notice in the animation were one or two little cartoon birds.

That got me thinking, on how BBC Three's idents often feature birds and foliage wrapped around, and landing on, the neon tubes.

Now hold up there: a lot of Twitter's images feature cartoon birds and vine-y, twisting foliage.

"Hi Tweeple!"

Also Twitter's a raging success, in terms of a whole heap of people tweeting about similar subjects resulting in the internet blowing up (I think) when a certain Mr Jackson carked it recently, and news agencies trying to get around the constraints put on them by Iranian authorities.

Iran's Ayatollah Khamenei, yesterday

I don’t have a major point here but want to comment in a roundabout way how design teams for various organisations tap into the zeitgeist by ever so subtly plagiarising aspects of a more successful or popular product / website / whatever and hope some of its kudos will rub off on them.

Sub-post: Fulsome Fanta

When I was looking up images for the above entry, Google kindly gave me this glimpse into the abyss of history.

"‘Fanta’ was originally made from apple fibre and a by-product of cheese"

Fizzy milk? Don’t think I'll be enjoying a refreshing glass of that anytime soon. *retch*
http://www.fanta.co.uk/product.html

Coffee

My last entry featured coffee, and I want to expand on the subject.

Despite being from this green and pleasant land (mostly English with a smidgen of Welsh tainting my DNA), I abhor tea in all its forms. In the great words of Garfield, "ptooey".

I'd rather drink vending machine-strength coffee (and unfortunately do - work kindly let us have a cornucopia of free drinks) than taste a drop of the contents of Beelzebub's bladder. Two important factors inform my opinion of coffee: caffiene and the strength of coffee.

The subject of caffiene regarding coffee is short and sweet. Decaffienated coffee is an abomination. What's the point of drinking decaf when I feel the main USP of coffee is as a stimulant. You may as well drink water. Yes, I know people like the taste, myself included, but the caffiene content is one part of the main triumvirate of coffee, along with taste and strength.

Decaf is for pansies.

The strength of coffee is uppermost in my mind when considering this ambrosia of beverages, and can be described in four words.

The Stronger The Better.

Going back to where I admitted to drinking vending machine coffee, I need to defend myself. I've never had a coffee from a vending machine, free or not, which hasn't tasted (and in fact, was) was weak as gnat's piss and the same colour too. Ptooey. I like to think I've solved the problem.

First I need to tell you my employers kindly grant us two breaks a day (morning and afternoon) in addition to lunch. One break consists of ten minutes. This gives one 720 glorious seconds with which to do as one pleases, within reason. Get one's nicotine fix (not for me, thanks), answer nature's call* or treat oneself to refreshments, both food and drink. Oh joy!

I've discovered it's quicker to source two servings of vending machine coffee than to wait for the kettle to boil. However this leaves me with the problem of two steaming cups of gnat's piss.

Fear not, dear reader! I have solved this conundrum! Decant the two cups of liquid into one large mug and stuff in a good deal of (company-paid-for) Nescafé instant granules. Stir briskly before returning to one's desk in a manner best described as smug.

However, instant coffee pales in comparison to the joys of fresh coffee.

Sweet nectar of life, to quote a crab from Pixar's output.

To this end, I keep a 2-3 cup Bodum press at work together with a bag of Sainsbury's Finest grade five Costa Rican ground coffee. This is a treat for me, reserved for when I've got my act together of a morning and arrived at the office with plenty of time to spare, with which to bother brewing up a mug of hot heavenly glory.

This is not the end of my waxing lyrical, for there is a couple of extra hurdles to overcome where I work, before the end is in sight. One is milk.

Oh, how I'd love to be able to savour a mug of coffee in all its black goodness, but I feel I am acutely sensitive to the bitter tasting refreshments in life, and as such have to have some dairy in my drink. A splash of semi does the trick, taking the edge off the brew, preventing my face from collapsing in on itself like a fleshy black hole.

But my place of employ is haunted by Milk Monsters. Those colleagues of mine who snaffle all the milk the evening before, as they work into the wee small hours. A curse on thee! A curse!

The solution: Coffee Mate.

Never again will I have to forgo the darling drink again! (Unless my brain plays a trick on me and makes me forget to stock up when I run out. Dang it.)

The other hurdle is sugar. I was born with the sweetest teeth this side of Charlie Bucket and must have sugar in my coffee. There is a sugar jar placed in each small kitchen of the office, and each brims with crystals of Silver Spoon's finest white sugar. However, the aforementioned Milk Monsters like to make merry with the Teaspoon Terrors, those fiends who make off with many of the teaspoons secreted throughout the building. This means the sugar pots get liberally sprinkled with coffee granules over time.

Oh, and you see I wrote white sugar? Not in coffee, dahlink. It's just not the done thing! So nestled with my Coffee Mate, is a tub of glorious brown sugar cubes, adorned with two vanilla pods for a modicum of tantalising extra flavour.

I know how to spoil myself! Dear reader, coffee rules!

*I'm not saying we are banned from conversing with Mother Nature outside of our allocated breaks.

Drinking at work

Every once in a while, my employers will celebrate some acheivment, such as customers rating us better than our competitors or National Customer Service Week. Today is one such day.

Bucks Fizz is the order of the day (together with bacon rolls for breakfast) but not everyone's fond of champagne cocktails.

Buck's Fizz - not liquid refreshment

Buck's Fizz champagne cocktail.

Alcoholic refreshment for a Monday morning in the office.

I am, despite this being pre-mixed bottled Bucks. Happily, two people who sit on the same desk as me aren't, so I stupidly necked two glasses of Bucks before 10am.

Whoops!

I sorted myself out with a coffee (very helpful), but then I was given a third glass. Which didn't survive very long either.

Whoops!

Happily (?) I survived the day by refusing any more so I was properly sober by 5 o'clock. Despite being offered at least a half-bottle more. (I'd have decanted it into a screw-top bottle had I had one.)

*hic*

Chin chin!

Very Superstitious

Are you superstitious?

I inadvertantly broke a mirror at home today.

It's a bit blowy round these parts this afternoon, but very warm as well, so in an effort to create a bit of a breeze through the office without wasting power by switching the desk fan on, I've opened the window, the door, the bathroom window and the bathroom door.

When I've done this before, the bathroom mirror (freestanding, on windowsill) has been content to remain in its given spot, even on windier days than today.

Not today.

Today the mirror has it in for me. When my back was turned, it performed (or so I like to think) a double pike off the windowsill before executing a dying swan leap into the sink.

I think I should just forgo any energy-saving techniques for today to get revenge against the universe in an effort to balance out my karma.

"Universe, if you're going to bestow me with seven years' bad luck, I'm
going to warm up Earth for a bit by leaving my TV on standby. HAH!"

Only, I don't believe in superstition*. So my TV is not on standby and I need to buy a new bathroom mirror tomorrow. Unless karma gets me first.

*But I don't walk under ladders. That's just common sense - who wants an arse crack-displaying, overweight painter to present my head with a heavy pot of Dulux?

The real first post

My sense of proper behaviour dictated to me that I must to an introduction before I write my first entry. That done, here's what would've comprised your introduction to me had I not been thinking.

I've already intimated that the majority of my customers are decent types, polite and understanding of circumstances beyond the control of me or my colleagues (my colleagues and I?). Friday was a different matter.

Time of year dictates several people are off holidaying to far off places, like the Bahamas, Goa and Skegness

The Bahamas

Skegness - where would you rather be?

Which means we were busy anyway. The last thing I needed was a delightful lady in Dublin to call me, comment feistily as to the whereabouts of her order, call me back before I could get an answer from the couriers, call me back a second time to complain further then slam me on hold before I could finish the sentence I had at the time, and put her even more delightful store manager on the line to reiterate all her colleague had just ranted at me during the previous two conversations.

First. There is a general standard lead time for deliveries to ROI and this store is a regular, and knew it. Second, I hadn't called the store back because I was waiting to hear what the couriers had to say. No point me calling a customer when I have nothing to tell them, and I never said how long I'd be before I called back, because I didn't know, but I knew it'd be that day

(The second call the customer made, got through to one of my colleagues, complaining I hadn't bothered to call them back in a time which was never specified

Their third call got through to yet another collegue of mine and the sum of the conversation was me telling her what I already had - this being a Friday a proof of delivery could not be obtained until after the courier returned to their depot, which was after our offices shut, and the store shut, thus meaning details of the delivery could not be given to the store until Monday (tomorrow - and I'm so looking forward to work tomorrow).

The store manager then got on the line to complain loudly and at length about the (in her eyes, apparent) delay in delivery - the order was placed on Wednesday! Tomorrow is still within the expected lead time! Before going on to shout at me for not bothering to return the store's calls - uh, hold on one moment there, lady! I didn't call back the first time because I didn't have any information, and when I did speak to your dumbass colleague, I gave her all the information I had.

I didn't call back a second time because as far as I was concerned, case closed until Monday!

Reader, the third time I spoke to the original caller, I told her the exact same details as I had during the call before, because if I didn't, I'd either say nothing, or make up a load of lies. As a customer, which would you rather?

Introduction

Let's get the boring stuff out of the way. Welcome!

I aim to make this somewhere I can describe my life, dull as it may be, and see if I can't work it up into something interesting.

I've been inspired by blogs I've been following, vaguely (over the last couple of years, such as PostSecret) and more recently and attentively (having recently got my arse into gear and downloaded FeedDemon so I can easily (easier?) keep up with sites I like). You know, what an RSS feed is for.

No way am I expecting this to be an instant hit, or even a mild success at all. I ramble far too much.

But I do have a small hope I can write interesting pieces about my life, which as the title would suggest, involves my family, socialising and work.

I'm the youngest of three offspring, and my parents are still married after over 35 years. I'm an aunt to a teenage nephew and two twin baby nieces courtesy of my brother and sister respectively. I myself am single, happy this way and I've no desire for children of my own. I'm too selfish a person and I get easily irritated if things don't go as planned, and I'd be a horrid, bossy mother.

I don't make friends easily, but I have a small circle of regular friends who I see often, and some of whom I've known since I was a child. I'm one of those sorts who, when I make a friend, it's for a long time. Low confidence means it takes a good while for me to consider someone a friend.

I didn't do well academically when I was at 6th form college but it gave me more confidence after I finished senior school. I fell into doing administration and proved adept at it. I helped run a repair workshop before moving on after five years to run a sales and marketing office for 18 months.

I've now been working in customer services for four years which I never thought I'd love as much as I do. I place orders primarily, but also deal with a wide range of customer problems and issues. Whenever I describe how I feel about work, there's one area which makes all the problematic customers (and there's not as many as you'd think): I get to talk on the telephone all day long!