1. 'The Outsiders' - great film, based on a story written by S E Hinton. I'm assuming that she had no affiliation with the mighty 'Hinton's' supermarket chain of the 70's/early 80's (taken over by another mighty conglomerate - 'Presto'). Anyway, I have gone off on a tangent. This is a great movie. It's like the 'Who's Who' of Brat-Pack films. My favourite (sweet little Ralph Macchio) gets burned in a church fire saving some Deep South skip-rats. The story is of two rival gangs - the Greasers and the Socs. Fab.
2. 'St. Elmo's Fire' - 1985 film. Appalling theme toon (thank you, John 'one-hit wonder' Parr). Rob Lowe fucks his way around town. Even manages to 'bone' a bird who works at the dole office and wears appalling support stockings (the bird, not Rob Lowe). Best bit? Where perpetual loser and wimpy kid, Andrew McCarthy, gets to knob Ally Sheedy. Hurray for the underdog!!
3. 'Pretty In Pink' - Molly Ringwald (ginger-lass made good) and Andrew McCarthy (he plays a rich high school sort who wears cricket jumpers) go to the school dance. No fucking plot - just real 'feel good' stuff. Her best friend ('Duckie') was uber-annoying. As Woody Allen would have said 'what I wouldn't give for a sockful of wet manure'.......
4. 'About Last Night' - coming of age relationship film where Rob Lowe shags Demi Moore on the biggest bean bag I have ever seen. And in the shower too. Mind you, the grouting was fucking filthy - this was clearly in the days before Cillit Bang had arrived. Brief synopsis - they meet in a bar, shag each other stupid, move in, he puts twin dressing-gown pegs on the bathroom door....then it all goes tits-up. Let that be a lesson to you all.
5. 'Youngblood' - Rob Lowe plays an ice-hockey player. I think he shags some lady on a very woolly rug by a fire, as I recall. Other than that, I forget what the plot is....
6. 'The Karate Kid' (1/2//3). However, I rather think that they should have stopped after number 1. I adored Ralph Macchio, although due to a congenital condition, whilst he was well into his 20's when he played the part of Daniel LaRusso, he actually looked about 15. The he went and spoilt it all by marrying some lass called 'Phyllis'. I mean - 'Phyllis' - would you???? He was also a shite actor, but I just couldn't see it back then.
7. 'Risky Business' - Tom Cruise and his teeth do something about setting up a date/call-girl thing. I forget, frankly, but remember that he shagged Rebecca de Mornay in front of some French windows on a stormy night. The windows thrust open, at about the same time as Rebecca de Mornay's dress fell off, I recall.
8. 'The Breakfast Club' - I found Judd Nelson to be hilarious in this film - he was the 'bad lad' who got detention on a Saturday with 4 other kids ('a brain, a beauty, a jock and a recluse'). Absolutely first class stuff - genius!
9. 'Dirty Dancing' - OK, it was shite, I suppose, but an iconic film from my youth. Patrick Swayze, Jennifer Grey (and her huge snout), great music. What's not to love? Nobody puts baby in the corner....
10. 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off' - genius from John Hughes (RIP). Three friends skive off school, take a classic car for a spin and get up to no good. Jennifer Grey (and her huge snout) make an appearance as Bueller's sister who wants to grass him up. But, our Ferris manages to out-do her!!
Sunday, 11 December 2011
Saturday, 10 December 2011
Will December be magic (again)?
It is 2 weeks until Christmas. I am jobless in 3 weeks. I was cleaning a cupboard last night and found some old childhood books. Got extremely nostalgic, then extremely upset (possibly rioja-induced, I am unsure) I have applied for a few roles, none of which have come to anything yet. I was interviewed for a role last week, one for which I am clearly over-qualified. I read with interest on the Reed website this morning that this job has just been advertised with them. So, by careful deduction, I assume that I have not been successful. Not the end of the world, the travel there and back would have been a killer (40+ miles each day).
My colleagues continue to make me wonder why abortion was not made compulsory after 1981. They truly are cunts. No, like...seriously. One of them feels that it is her life's work to email as many of her friends as possible, whilst surfing the Argos website for cheap tat for her grubby little kids. The other is just fucking lucky to be there. I shall walk away on 30th December with no regret, just sweet relief that I don't have to spend another day there listening to and smelling terminal bullshit.
The most wonderful time of the year? Err, let me be the judge of that, eh? I really dislike Christmas, all of that forced, make-believe frivolity. It will be my combined Christmas and leaving 'do' next Friday. I feel sure that I shall be irritated by the general 'falseness' of it all. I aim to just have my meal (paid for by the bastarding company - think I may possibly choke on every mouthful - bastards) and then leave. Do you know, reader, they haven't even sent out my letter regarding my severance, leave date - nitto, nada....fucking nowt. I fully expect to have the mother of all fights on my hands in order to:
a) get the money
b) get the right amount of money
c) get it before the end of January - a mighty month after I will have 'left the building' (a la Elvis)
It's a good job there are no breweries around requiring 'a good drink', as these twats wouldn't know where the hell to start.
But, I am trying to look forward to Christmas as best I can. I have no decorations, no tree, no cards. But, on a positive note, I have all of my presents bought (although not yet wrapped). I am filling my evenings watching old Brat-Pack films, eating mince pies and slurping red wine.
Merry Christmas, everyone xx
My colleagues continue to make me wonder why abortion was not made compulsory after 1981. They truly are cunts. No, like...seriously. One of them feels that it is her life's work to email as many of her friends as possible, whilst surfing the Argos website for cheap tat for her grubby little kids. The other is just fucking lucky to be there. I shall walk away on 30th December with no regret, just sweet relief that I don't have to spend another day there listening to and smelling terminal bullshit.
The most wonderful time of the year? Err, let me be the judge of that, eh? I really dislike Christmas, all of that forced, make-believe frivolity. It will be my combined Christmas and leaving 'do' next Friday. I feel sure that I shall be irritated by the general 'falseness' of it all. I aim to just have my meal (paid for by the bastarding company - think I may possibly choke on every mouthful - bastards) and then leave. Do you know, reader, they haven't even sent out my letter regarding my severance, leave date - nitto, nada....fucking nowt. I fully expect to have the mother of all fights on my hands in order to:
a) get the money
b) get the right amount of money
c) get it before the end of January - a mighty month after I will have 'left the building' (a la Elvis)
It's a good job there are no breweries around requiring 'a good drink', as these twats wouldn't know where the hell to start.
But, I am trying to look forward to Christmas as best I can. I have no decorations, no tree, no cards. But, on a positive note, I have all of my presents bought (although not yet wrapped). I am filling my evenings watching old Brat-Pack films, eating mince pies and slurping red wine.
Merry Christmas, everyone xx
Friday, 11 November 2011
Friday 11th November 2011
Well, reader...I have returned to my blogging duties. I admit, I have been rather neglectful of late. Possibly because I have had far too much on my poor blonde, Mackem mind...who knows? As I sit here having a small break from doing some work (course-work for a distance learning qualification that I have enrolled upon), I thought it would be a pleasant distraction to get my blogging groove back.
So, 'what's new, Madam Noir?', I hear you cry? Well, not a great deal has moved on in terms of work since my last blog entry, back in early October. I am still waiting for a definitive 'end date' from the bosses at Shitty Central. Last I heard, it was to be 31st December. But, still have not had anything official through in terms of a formal offer. This troubles me slightly, I confess. More so, as my colleague (the one who does nowt and just looks on t'internet all day and is deemed to be some sort of demigoddess by her manager) is 'up the stick' and I am fearful that the powers that be may ask me to stay to cover her maternity leave. Personally, I think I'm too far along in the process to do this...but you never know. That would be hell. Sheer, pure h-e-l-l.
I really do need to get out of the place, though. I spent their afternoon trying to manoeuvre my monitor to obscure the face of the jerk sitting opposite me. He annoys me on a daily basis when he eats/talks/breathes. I can feel my stomach buzzing and fizzing whilst watching/hearing him eat a packet of fucking Walker's crisps. The bloke is insane. Never before have I felt such venom when watching someone eat. He's such a cocksucker - and he is friendly with Mr Metrosexual (another annoying twat in the office). Simple fact is....I just need to leave.
My colleagues within my team are a set of cunts. They haven't once thanked me for saving their jobs by handing in my note of interest. I tell you one thing, the bastards will get a rude awakening when they actually have to do some fucking work. No more fannying around on t'internet and texting boyfriends. Nope.
I was trying to think of a suitable playlist to compile that really summed up what I feel about things at the moment.
Standout tracks:
'Touchy!' - Aha - because I am very fucking touchy at the moment....have you noticed?
'I Quit' - Bros ' - I've had enough, I've had it right up to here now, I'm taking a break...I quit'
'Sick & Tired ' - The Cardigans
'Can't Get Out of Bed' - The Charlatans
'Trapped' - Colonel Abrams
'A Pain That I'm Used To' - Depeche Mode
'Feel The Pain' - Dinosaur Junior ' 'I feel the pain of everyone...then I feel nothing' - yep, that's me.
'It's a Motherfucker' - Eels. Yes, it bloody well, is....
'Unbelievable' - EMF - because, like my employers, you couldn't fucking make it up if you tried....
So, 'what's new, Madam Noir?', I hear you cry? Well, not a great deal has moved on in terms of work since my last blog entry, back in early October. I am still waiting for a definitive 'end date' from the bosses at Shitty Central. Last I heard, it was to be 31st December. But, still have not had anything official through in terms of a formal offer. This troubles me slightly, I confess. More so, as my colleague (the one who does nowt and just looks on t'internet all day and is deemed to be some sort of demigoddess by her manager) is 'up the stick' and I am fearful that the powers that be may ask me to stay to cover her maternity leave. Personally, I think I'm too far along in the process to do this...but you never know. That would be hell. Sheer, pure h-e-l-l.
I really do need to get out of the place, though. I spent their afternoon trying to manoeuvre my monitor to obscure the face of the jerk sitting opposite me. He annoys me on a daily basis when he eats/talks/breathes. I can feel my stomach buzzing and fizzing whilst watching/hearing him eat a packet of fucking Walker's crisps. The bloke is insane. Never before have I felt such venom when watching someone eat. He's such a cocksucker - and he is friendly with Mr Metrosexual (another annoying twat in the office). Simple fact is....I just need to leave.
My colleagues within my team are a set of cunts. They haven't once thanked me for saving their jobs by handing in my note of interest. I tell you one thing, the bastards will get a rude awakening when they actually have to do some fucking work. No more fannying around on t'internet and texting boyfriends. Nope.
I was trying to think of a suitable playlist to compile that really summed up what I feel about things at the moment.
Standout tracks:
'Touchy!' - Aha - because I am very fucking touchy at the moment....have you noticed?
'I Quit' - Bros ' - I've had enough, I've had it right up to here now, I'm taking a break...I quit'
'Sick & Tired ' - The Cardigans
'Can't Get Out of Bed' - The Charlatans
'Trapped' - Colonel Abrams
'A Pain That I'm Used To' - Depeche Mode
'Feel The Pain' - Dinosaur Junior ' 'I feel the pain of everyone...then I feel nothing' - yep, that's me.
'It's a Motherfucker' - Eels. Yes, it bloody well, is....
'Unbelievable' - EMF - because, like my employers, you couldn't fucking make it up if you tried....
Sunday, 2 October 2011
Sunday 2nd October 2011
I return to the land of blogging after a self-imposed hiatus of over one month. Madam Noir has been busy. I have been at Shitty Central and then on annual leave for one week. Back to SC tomorrow, though. The funny thing is, I'm not that bothered about it. Possibly due to my impending redundancy. Feels almost as though I am just killing time until the inevitable happens. It feels strange to think of what things will be like on my last day at work, after 14.5 years of shuffling around the same building.
So, what have I been up to this week? Well, just relaxation, meeting up with friends and good times. That's the way that a week off should be. I haven't done any college work. I'm sure that I will get my groove back tomorrow when the reality of work crashes down upon me like a hammer.
I had my third Come Dine With Me date last night. It was very nice, but now that I have joined the middle-classes and purchased a dining table, I rather objected to taking my own tray and eating my meal off my knee. Plus, I left the bloody tray behind. I am a tad concerned. This is Easington, after all. That tray will have gone straight up someone's nose. Sold on the black market to a bloke with a dog on a piece of string or something. I am rapidly becoming the Margot Leadbitter of Roker. Give me a week or two and I will be wearing a floor-length dress and going to enunciation classes.
Went into York on Friday, to celebrate my 38th year. I sashayed into Jo Malone and had my arms rubbed by a woman with very long nails and a very gay hair-style. I thought that she might have been a 'friend of Dorothy's', what with the rather 'busy' haircut, but then observed her talons. No bona fide gay lady would find nails like that to be functional. I also indulged in a breakfast at Betty's Tea Rooms - absolutely divine.
Anyway, I was thinking about terrible lyrics in songs (going off on a huge tangent there). There have been some truly atrocious ones, over the years. So, my choicest morsels are (in no particular order):
So, what have I been up to this week? Well, just relaxation, meeting up with friends and good times. That's the way that a week off should be. I haven't done any college work. I'm sure that I will get my groove back tomorrow when the reality of work crashes down upon me like a hammer.
I had my third Come Dine With Me date last night. It was very nice, but now that I have joined the middle-classes and purchased a dining table, I rather objected to taking my own tray and eating my meal off my knee. Plus, I left the bloody tray behind. I am a tad concerned. This is Easington, after all. That tray will have gone straight up someone's nose. Sold on the black market to a bloke with a dog on a piece of string or something. I am rapidly becoming the Margot Leadbitter of Roker. Give me a week or two and I will be wearing a floor-length dress and going to enunciation classes.
Went into York on Friday, to celebrate my 38th year. I sashayed into Jo Malone and had my arms rubbed by a woman with very long nails and a very gay hair-style. I thought that she might have been a 'friend of Dorothy's', what with the rather 'busy' haircut, but then observed her talons. No bona fide gay lady would find nails like that to be functional. I also indulged in a breakfast at Betty's Tea Rooms - absolutely divine.
Anyway, I was thinking about terrible lyrics in songs (going off on a huge tangent there). There have been some truly atrocious ones, over the years. So, my choicest morsels are (in no particular order):
- 'Hermann loves Pauline and Pauline loves Hermann. They made love and gave birth to a little German.' - 'Hermann Loves Pauline by Super Furry Animals
- 'De do do do, de da da da is all I want to say to you' - 'De do do do, de da da da' by The Police. Sting, you deserve to have your tongue cut out for being the purveyor of such banal lyrics, get back to the rainforest, you TWAT.
- 'You fill up my senses, like a night in a forest' - 'Annie's Song' by John Denver. Ok, John...you like this woman, right? So, what is the best way to convey your feelings? Flowers? A ring? A declaration of love? No, you decide to tell her that she makes you feel 'shit-scared'. Like being lost in Kielder. L-o-s-e-r.
- 'White Lines (Don't Don't Do It)' by Grandmaster Flash Featuring The Furious Fibe & Melle Mel. Yanks - don't they understand? Don't Don't Do It?? Two negatives makes a positive - therefore, they are actually advocating the use of cocaine in this cheery mid-1980's ditty. Yanks? Planks.
- 'Make love, like a man. I'm a man. That's what I am' - 'Make Love Like A Man' by Def Leppard. They're from Sheffield. It explains a lot. Really, it does.
OK, so these are the ones that really stand out. I am convinced that there are many, many more. However, I shall save them for another blog entry.
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Wednesday 31st August
Ah well, reader. Back to work tomorrow after a wonderful weekend in Paris. Still, looking on the positive side, only two days to endure and then it will be the weekend and the second of my 'Come Dine With Me' dates. Liv (the host) is opting for a French-themed evening, which should be fun. Quite apt, considering my jaunt there last weekend. I sent her a message today, after she had mentioned that the evening would have a French theme. I advised her to ensure that the food was shit, service was surly and that she raided my purse at the end of the night, leaving me bereft of any currency. Good Lord, it was expensive.
I went to see Stephen (hairdresser) this afternoon and he raised a very valid point about Paris. You never see any fat people. It's true, I had never noticed it...but they are quite a slim race. The only porkers that I saw were foreign tourists.
I was shocked at the amount of vagrants, beggars and people with strange afflictions (no limbs, limbs that looked very un-limb-like, etc). Quite tragic and very sad to see.
So, highlights for me? Well, Venus De Milo at The Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Arc De Triomphe and Sacre Coeur.
I return to Shitty Central tomorrow. Apparently, one of my cohorts is having some 'problems at home', therefore meaning that I have to do a late shift tomorrow. Super. So, the last few hours of my time off have been spent having lunch with my oldest friend. Followed swiftly by a haircut and quick shopping trip, whereupon I purchased a top from Gap, some chicken liver pate and a punnet of strawberries. 'How very decadent!', I hear you cry.
On to a more sombre subject now. Seven years ago today, my wonderful mam died. In some ways, it seems like another lifetime ago, yet in some respects...just as if it happened yesterday. Weird. I miss her so much. Miss her conversation, her silliness, the smell of her hair. Sometimes the sadness of it all just hits me like a train. That's grief for you. No warning of when it will hit again. Just the sheer pain when it does...the huge sense of loss. It gets easier, but still hurts like hell. And so, I pour myself a night-cap (Isle of Jura single malt), listen to some music and just 'remember'. Here's to you mam...xxx
I went to see Stephen (hairdresser) this afternoon and he raised a very valid point about Paris. You never see any fat people. It's true, I had never noticed it...but they are quite a slim race. The only porkers that I saw were foreign tourists.
I was shocked at the amount of vagrants, beggars and people with strange afflictions (no limbs, limbs that looked very un-limb-like, etc). Quite tragic and very sad to see.
So, highlights for me? Well, Venus De Milo at The Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Arc De Triomphe and Sacre Coeur.
I return to Shitty Central tomorrow. Apparently, one of my cohorts is having some 'problems at home', therefore meaning that I have to do a late shift tomorrow. Super. So, the last few hours of my time off have been spent having lunch with my oldest friend. Followed swiftly by a haircut and quick shopping trip, whereupon I purchased a top from Gap, some chicken liver pate and a punnet of strawberries. 'How very decadent!', I hear you cry.
On to a more sombre subject now. Seven years ago today, my wonderful mam died. In some ways, it seems like another lifetime ago, yet in some respects...just as if it happened yesterday. Weird. I miss her so much. Miss her conversation, her silliness, the smell of her hair. Sometimes the sadness of it all just hits me like a train. That's grief for you. No warning of when it will hit again. Just the sheer pain when it does...the huge sense of loss. It gets easier, but still hurts like hell. And so, I pour myself a night-cap (Isle of Jura single malt), listen to some music and just 'remember'. Here's to you mam...xxx
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
Wednesday 24th August
Well, reader...only one more day of work to endure and then I am off for almost a week. Hurray!
Update re: work. They have progressed my note of interest in redundancy. Although, I found out today that three other colleagues at different locations have also submitted their interest. So, who knows what will happen. I am the only one with a personality, so I feel that it is only fair that they let me go...don't you? Until that decision is made, I will soldier on, doing the day job. Knowing my luck, I will probably fall off my chair into a boredom-induced coma before that happens.
I have been feeling quite stressed over the last couple of days. I didn't realise how stressed until I had some physio treatment tonight. The physio tried to pop an acupuncture needle in my ankle and my foot was jumping all over. She had to hold it down quite firmly to get the needle in - that has never happened before.
Anyway, enough of this work flim-flammery. I am looking forward to having a few days off and going on my sojourn to Paris. Although, dreading the inevitable flight. I have advised Amy (my holiday-buddy) that we will have to put the world to rights over several glasses of French red wine. She has handed in her notice at work - she is completely sick of work and is planning to visit a friend in Australia. May even stay out there, eventually. She has asked me if I want to go, but I can't stand people being so 'chipper', like they are in Oz. I need a bit of gloom to make me feel normal!
Need to go to the local post office in the morning to get some Euros. I won't be purchasing anything extravagant in Paris. Just food/drink. Plus, entry to galleries/museums, etc. I desperately want a pic of me by the Eiffel Tower....me and a huge erection....first time for everything. Hope that it won't be as much of a let down as other erections in my life...
Update re: work. They have progressed my note of interest in redundancy. Although, I found out today that three other colleagues at different locations have also submitted their interest. So, who knows what will happen. I am the only one with a personality, so I feel that it is only fair that they let me go...don't you? Until that decision is made, I will soldier on, doing the day job. Knowing my luck, I will probably fall off my chair into a boredom-induced coma before that happens.
I have been feeling quite stressed over the last couple of days. I didn't realise how stressed until I had some physio treatment tonight. The physio tried to pop an acupuncture needle in my ankle and my foot was jumping all over. She had to hold it down quite firmly to get the needle in - that has never happened before.
Anyway, enough of this work flim-flammery. I am looking forward to having a few days off and going on my sojourn to Paris. Although, dreading the inevitable flight. I have advised Amy (my holiday-buddy) that we will have to put the world to rights over several glasses of French red wine. She has handed in her notice at work - she is completely sick of work and is planning to visit a friend in Australia. May even stay out there, eventually. She has asked me if I want to go, but I can't stand people being so 'chipper', like they are in Oz. I need a bit of gloom to make me feel normal!
Need to go to the local post office in the morning to get some Euros. I won't be purchasing anything extravagant in Paris. Just food/drink. Plus, entry to galleries/museums, etc. I desperately want a pic of me by the Eiffel Tower....me and a huge erection....first time for everything. Hope that it won't be as much of a let down as other erections in my life...
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Sunday 21st August
Hmm, finding it very tricky to get my blogging groove back lately. I simply can't think of anything remotely interesting to say. So, I have made a cup of tea and eaten an egg custard (M & S, of course) to try and assist my creative flow.
So, my weekend so far has been moderately OK. Not that I have done anything terribly exciting. Friday night was spent in the company of my colleague at a Thai restaurant chatting about the prospect of my impending redundancy. I shall find out about that on Tuesday when I have a one-to-one consultation with a groin in a suit and my union representative. I fully expect that he will tell me that I have been matched or slotted to a role, that I will be expected to apply for it and that my note of interest in redundancy will not be progressed at this time.
Well, if that is the case, fiendishly cunning 'plan b' will steam into action. 'What is that', I hear you cry, dear reader? Simple really. Just to do a bloody awful interview. Like, really awful. However, could my conscience allow me to do that? Would it? I still have a modicum of pride left. Admittedly, this dwindles on a daily basis - but it is still there. I shall update you on my progress during the week.
Went to Newcastle this morning with Miss Underscore. Had a rather disappointing scone at John Lewis. Searched for inspiration in HMV for a CD. Found none. Just felt myself getting agitated as I moved past the James Blunt section. Not even a brief meander along the rows of DVD's could inspire me. So, the sum total of my spends in the city was £9.95 to get a pair of boots re-heeled and £20 on M & S food shopping. Nothing purchased for my impending sojourn to Paris. I wanted to alight from the QueasyJet flight looking aloof and confident, like Audrey Hepburn. However, I fear I will look more like Audrey Roberts. Parisians are renowned for looking effortlessly stylish, debonair and sexy. How the hell will I fit in? I will be taking my Merrell walking shoes for the daytime walks...might take some 'chase me catch me fuck me' heels for the evening...well, maybe in my case...'chase me, catch me, get the Compeed blister plasters out and fuck off'. I've been hearing about how rude Parisians are. Hey, that is no problem. For I can do rude right back at them - the beauty of it is that they won't understand a bloody word of it. Result.
Am looking forward to the visit to Versailles. The gardens are meant to be spectacular. However, if I was in charge of them, I would probably think it too much of a 'chore' and demand that my friendly builder, Ronnie, came to throw wood/slate chippings over it. Personally, think it would look rather effective.
Anyway, my hedonistic weekend of revelry continued on Saturday with a trip to see the lovely Liv to get my toenails painted. Then off to meet a guy that I haven't seen since school. He is a recovering alcoholic. I haven't told him that I am gay. He quite clearly wants to be more than friends (a girl just knows these things...I'm not being conceited). I need to tell him soon. Tough, but that is how it is.
On the afternoon, my ex (Debbie) came to collect some post. Post that is still being delivered here despite the fact that she moved out last September. Anyway, we had a chat over several cups of tea. She was telling me all about her new partner - she sounds happy - I am genuinely pleased for her.
Going off on a monumental tangent, I copied Nirvana's 'Nevermind' album to iTunes this morning before I went to Newcastle. I had forgotten how fantastic is was - and still is. God, I bought that CD in 1991. Things were so much different back then. I was dating my first boyfriend, was totally besotted with him. I was at college - in my second year studying for my A-Levels. Everything about that time seems so magical now. I suppose it was, looking back. I didn't have a care in the world, nor a hint of all of the trials and tribulations that were to come over the next 20 years. It's a good job that we don't know what the future holds, isn't it?
So, my weekend so far has been moderately OK. Not that I have done anything terribly exciting. Friday night was spent in the company of my colleague at a Thai restaurant chatting about the prospect of my impending redundancy. I shall find out about that on Tuesday when I have a one-to-one consultation with a groin in a suit and my union representative. I fully expect that he will tell me that I have been matched or slotted to a role, that I will be expected to apply for it and that my note of interest in redundancy will not be progressed at this time.
Well, if that is the case, fiendishly cunning 'plan b' will steam into action. 'What is that', I hear you cry, dear reader? Simple really. Just to do a bloody awful interview. Like, really awful. However, could my conscience allow me to do that? Would it? I still have a modicum of pride left. Admittedly, this dwindles on a daily basis - but it is still there. I shall update you on my progress during the week.
Went to Newcastle this morning with Miss Underscore. Had a rather disappointing scone at John Lewis. Searched for inspiration in HMV for a CD. Found none. Just felt myself getting agitated as I moved past the James Blunt section. Not even a brief meander along the rows of DVD's could inspire me. So, the sum total of my spends in the city was £9.95 to get a pair of boots re-heeled and £20 on M & S food shopping. Nothing purchased for my impending sojourn to Paris. I wanted to alight from the QueasyJet flight looking aloof and confident, like Audrey Hepburn. However, I fear I will look more like Audrey Roberts. Parisians are renowned for looking effortlessly stylish, debonair and sexy. How the hell will I fit in? I will be taking my Merrell walking shoes for the daytime walks...might take some 'chase me catch me fuck me' heels for the evening...well, maybe in my case...'chase me, catch me, get the Compeed blister plasters out and fuck off'. I've been hearing about how rude Parisians are. Hey, that is no problem. For I can do rude right back at them - the beauty of it is that they won't understand a bloody word of it. Result.
Am looking forward to the visit to Versailles. The gardens are meant to be spectacular. However, if I was in charge of them, I would probably think it too much of a 'chore' and demand that my friendly builder, Ronnie, came to throw wood/slate chippings over it. Personally, think it would look rather effective.
Anyway, my hedonistic weekend of revelry continued on Saturday with a trip to see the lovely Liv to get my toenails painted. Then off to meet a guy that I haven't seen since school. He is a recovering alcoholic. I haven't told him that I am gay. He quite clearly wants to be more than friends (a girl just knows these things...I'm not being conceited). I need to tell him soon. Tough, but that is how it is.
On the afternoon, my ex (Debbie) came to collect some post. Post that is still being delivered here despite the fact that she moved out last September. Anyway, we had a chat over several cups of tea. She was telling me all about her new partner - she sounds happy - I am genuinely pleased for her.
Going off on a monumental tangent, I copied Nirvana's 'Nevermind' album to iTunes this morning before I went to Newcastle. I had forgotten how fantastic is was - and still is. God, I bought that CD in 1991. Things were so much different back then. I was dating my first boyfriend, was totally besotted with him. I was at college - in my second year studying for my A-Levels. Everything about that time seems so magical now. I suppose it was, looking back. I didn't have a care in the world, nor a hint of all of the trials and tribulations that were to come over the next 20 years. It's a good job that we don't know what the future holds, isn't it?
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