BLOODY POMS
Seems like a win, win situation to me. And they give us shit for whinging....
Friday, November 24, 2006
Friday, November 17, 2006
Shorter?? Nooooo thanks
Well, my trip to the Vidal Sassoon Hairdressing Academy didn't end in tears... for ONCE someone in London did something right and listened to the customer! (I must point out that most of the students were from Japan, Korea, Spain... basically anywhere BUT the UK).
After arriving at the Academy in Bond St and waiting around for a bit we all lined up to tell this guy briefly what we wanted. I could hear "Trim", "nothing drastic", "Bob cut"... all these people got a tag and directed to the academy in the street over. I stepped up and said something to the effect "I want to keep the length but do something a bit different". As the words left my mouth I instantly had thoughts of ending up in an advanced cutting classroom with shards of my hair everywhere complete with blue streaks. "I mean..! Not TOO different!" I said, thinking I had saved myself. "Sit over there please" the guy gave me a piece of paper (I could make out the words 'Comps' and 'Kbridge'" and sat with about 6 others. I finally figured out that kbridge was Knightsbridge. This made me feel a little more at ease. Knightsbridge is quite an upper class part of town.. hopefully I was one of a lucky few off to be modelled by some professionals! No, it was not to be, still students, but in a small boutique of Vidal Sassoon with a very cool and helpful teacher at hand. I had a friendly Japanese chick start playing with my hair deciding I should indeed keep the length (Thank GOD!) but should add some volume and funk. I liked what I heard and said they could go nuts. She got in there and chopped up a storm and as she dried it I was a little disappointed thinking she'd just cut a regular two-layer do (boooooring), then she grabbed the mirror... not what I expected, but I was very pleased! For 4 quid 50, this is undoubtedly the best hair cut I've had! (See below for yourselves)
Russell Brand seemed to be her inspiration with "messy" being the word most used in two hours
After arriving at the Academy in Bond St and waiting around for a bit we all lined up to tell this guy briefly what we wanted. I could hear "Trim", "nothing drastic", "Bob cut"... all these people got a tag and directed to the academy in the street over. I stepped up and said something to the effect "I want to keep the length but do something a bit different". As the words left my mouth I instantly had thoughts of ending up in an advanced cutting classroom with shards of my hair everywhere complete with blue streaks. "I mean..! Not TOO different!" I said, thinking I had saved myself. "Sit over there please" the guy gave me a piece of paper (I could make out the words 'Comps' and 'Kbridge'" and sat with about 6 others. I finally figured out that kbridge was Knightsbridge. This made me feel a little more at ease. Knightsbridge is quite an upper class part of town.. hopefully I was one of a lucky few off to be modelled by some professionals! No, it was not to be, still students, but in a small boutique of Vidal Sassoon with a very cool and helpful teacher at hand. I had a friendly Japanese chick start playing with my hair deciding I should indeed keep the length (Thank GOD!) but should add some volume and funk. I liked what I heard and said they could go nuts. She got in there and chopped up a storm and as she dried it I was a little disappointed thinking she'd just cut a regular two-layer do (boooooring), then she grabbed the mirror... not what I expected, but I was very pleased! For 4 quid 50, this is undoubtedly the best hair cut I've had! (See below for yourselves)
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Me gusta tapas noches!
Yes, Carol and I graced the Spanish and English students with our presence Tuesday night at a quaint tapas bar just off Bond St... Don't we look simply enthralled??
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Rant Pt.2
It all started this morning when I got a reply to my email sent to Ticketmaster yesterday. Here's the story so far..
July-Sept Booked tickets online. When booking, you can ONLY pick the delivery by Royal Mail option (for an extra £5 thank you very much). Tickets will be sent to card'sbillingg address.
Sept - Moved from Willesden Green to Hammersmith
Sept 7 - Sent email through Ticketmaster website (as they encourage emails rather than phone calls), advising I had changed address and ALL my current bookings would need to be updated. Changed the billing address on all my cards.
Sept 7 - Got a reply saying that one booking had been changed and that I'd need to send back the booking references for all others to be changed. I replied to the return address and thought nothing more.
Oct 2 - Afterreceivingg a pile of mail from Willesden Green (randomly, as Cazza happened to be up there) including a 'We've missed you' card from Royal Mail, I had to trek out to Harlesden (after they couldn't tell me what was waiting and who it was from over the phone). Lo and behold... it was my Raconteur tickets (for the concert on the 19/10). The tickets had been there for 3 weeks...
Oct 4 - I emailed Ticketmaster "customer service" (HAHAHAHAHA), asking why the address hadn't been changed and to see if someone could check that the rest of the bookings had been updated (seeing as though quite a few were before the end of the year).
November 13 - One week until flying to Glasgow to see Tool and no sign of tickets. A friend hadreceivedd his Wembley ones and I had not heard a peep. Ticketmaster strike again. Once again, I send an email to "customer service" asking where my tickets were and that they'd better be going to Hammersmith.
November 14 - Ireceivee a reply saying 'Your Glasgow tickets are currently being dispatched to WILLESDEN GREEN. Your Wembley tickets are going to your new address'. Now. How can any sane person look at what they just typed - especially in response to my email - and not question the fact that one set of tickets was going to my OLD address and the other ones to my new address.
I promptly tried calling. 4 different numbers. 4 automated services. 30 minutes later I finally got to speak to someone. After ascertaining that it was 'my fault' that I hadn't updated my address (Why, I thought I was sending that initial email to Santa, so he knew where to find me on Dec 24) it was too late to get the Glasgow tickets sent elsewhere as Royal Mail had them. Oh and - she just had to point out - anyone at that address could sign for them, without ID. 'So,' I put it to her 'Although I'm telling you that I don't live there and don't know who lives there now, DESPITE telling you 2 months ago I had moved, my tickets will still be delivered to someone who, regardless of whether they know me or not, can sign for them??'. 'Yes', apparently. Also, APPARENTLY, you can't change your address online. 'So', I asked, 'why did the first person who replied saying 'I've changed your address, please send me the other reference numbers', not tell me that in fact, they couldn't change my address online. Conflicting stories much? We then spent 25 minutes changing the addresses on 6 other orders I had waiting...
She said she'd call me back after hunting down a tracking number from Royal Mail. After 4 hours I was calling them back as I had not heard back. This time Glen was on hand to see if he could unravel this seemingly difficult to understand issue. Again, it was explained to me it was too late to get the tickets back from Royal Mail. 'That's fine', I explained to him, 'I'll deal with that issue later. Right now, I want to speak to someone about why my original request was never dealt with - that is, getting my address changed so THIS WOULDN'T HAPPEN. I also want to know why the lady from this morning never got back to me'. He seemed perplexed and flustered... only adding to my rising urge to kill. He, again, took my number promising to get a tracking number for me (the least of my worries) and I took his name.
He called me back, unable to track down a number yet saying he'd have to call tomorrow. When I asked to speak to someone above him he again said there was nothing they could do about the tickets being delivered to Willesden. I AGAIN explained... this was NOT my problem. I want to know why my original request was never dealt with.
After much to-ing and fro-ing he got back to me saying he had followed up my original emails and found that they neverreceivedd my reply listing all dates, reference numbers and card numbers. How convenient.
___
* "Delivering customer service begins with understanding what customers want". This is not an isolated case. I think the whole of the UK "customer service sector" needs to do a unit of Business Studies at TAFE. That'll fucking teach them
July-Sept Booked tickets online. When booking, you can ONLY pick the delivery by Royal Mail option (for an extra £5 thank you very much). Tickets will be sent to card'sbillingg address.
Sept - Moved from Willesden Green to Hammersmith
Sept 7 - Sent email through Ticketmaster website (as they encourage emails rather than phone calls), advising I had changed address and ALL my current bookings would need to be updated. Changed the billing address on all my cards.
Sept 7 - Got a reply saying that one booking had been changed and that I'd need to send back the booking references for all others to be changed. I replied to the return address and thought nothing more.
Oct 2 - Afterreceivingg a pile of mail from Willesden Green (randomly, as Cazza happened to be up there) including a 'We've missed you' card from Royal Mail, I had to trek out to Harlesden (after they couldn't tell me what was waiting and who it was from over the phone). Lo and behold... it was my Raconteur tickets (for the concert on the 19/10). The tickets had been there for 3 weeks...
Oct 4 - I emailed Ticketmaster "customer service" (HAHAHAHAHA), asking why the address hadn't been changed and to see if someone could check that the rest of the bookings had been updated (seeing as though quite a few were before the end of the year).
November 13 - One week until flying to Glasgow to see Tool and no sign of tickets. A friend hadreceivedd his Wembley ones and I had not heard a peep. Ticketmaster strike again. Once again, I send an email to "customer service" asking where my tickets were and that they'd better be going to Hammersmith.
November 14 - Ireceivee a reply saying 'Your Glasgow tickets are currently being dispatched to WILLESDEN GREEN. Your Wembley tickets are going to your new address'. Now. How can any sane person look at what they just typed - especially in response to my email - and not question the fact that one set of tickets was going to my OLD address and the other ones to my new address.
I promptly tried calling. 4 different numbers. 4 automated services. 30 minutes later I finally got to speak to someone. After ascertaining that it was 'my fault' that I hadn't updated my address (Why, I thought I was sending that initial email to Santa, so he knew where to find me on Dec 24) it was too late to get the Glasgow tickets sent elsewhere as Royal Mail had them. Oh and - she just had to point out - anyone at that address could sign for them, without ID. 'So,' I put it to her 'Although I'm telling you that I don't live there and don't know who lives there now, DESPITE telling you 2 months ago I had moved, my tickets will still be delivered to someone who, regardless of whether they know me or not, can sign for them??'. 'Yes', apparently. Also, APPARENTLY, you can't change your address online. 'So', I asked, 'why did the first person who replied saying 'I've changed your address, please send me the other reference numbers', not tell me that in fact, they couldn't change my address online. Conflicting stories much? We then spent 25 minutes changing the addresses on 6 other orders I had waiting...
She said she'd call me back after hunting down a tracking number from Royal Mail. After 4 hours I was calling them back as I had not heard back. This time Glen was on hand to see if he could unravel this seemingly difficult to understand issue. Again, it was explained to me it was too late to get the tickets back from Royal Mail. 'That's fine', I explained to him, 'I'll deal with that issue later. Right now, I want to speak to someone about why my original request was never dealt with - that is, getting my address changed so THIS WOULDN'T HAPPEN. I also want to know why the lady from this morning never got back to me'. He seemed perplexed and flustered... only adding to my rising urge to kill. He, again, took my number promising to get a tracking number for me (the least of my worries) and I took his name.
He called me back, unable to track down a number yet saying he'd have to call tomorrow. When I asked to speak to someone above him he again said there was nothing they could do about the tickets being delivered to Willesden. I AGAIN explained... this was NOT my problem. I want to know why my original request was never dealt with.
After much to-ing and fro-ing he got back to me saying he had followed up my original emails and found that they neverreceivedd my reply listing all dates, reference numbers and card numbers. How convenient.
___
* "Delivering customer service begins with understanding what customers want". This is not an isolated case. I think the whole of the UK "customer service sector" needs to do a unit of Business Studies at TAFE. That'll fucking teach them
What to feed an Ipod
It seems that, despite Towsty's nagging and disapproving looks, looking after one's Ipod does nothing to save it from fucking up. My brand new Ipod, after only 4 months of use, is slowly dying. Somehow many tracks have become unfit to play (although can sometime be played in Itunes) and when I try to download them from the hard drive it throws error after error at me.. hence I stand to lose a hell of a lot of music. I am more than annoyed.
So far the Ipod bug has chewed at A Perfect Circle, The Living End, Foo Fighters, Raconteurs, Tool, The Black Keys, Alanis, Metallica... at least it has good taste.
++++++
In other news, I've had one of the most sober weeks on record for a while. It all started after the Citigroup party 2 November... they were the first of many banks to throw a Christmas party for their clients, and as such, much champagne was consumed (complete with it being held at Oxo Tower - overlooking the Thames and St Paul's.. photo's to follow). 2 magnums of champers later and this little troll had to be put in a taxi by one of her work elders. Coming into work the next day was like entering a battlefield... wounded and weak people lie slumped over their desks... bags of toast and bacon sanga's everywhere... the smell of hangovers was in the air. I'm not quite sure how I made it through Friday but, finally, the weekend came around. Saturday was Guy Fawkes celebrations... despite STILL feeling like shit, I proceeded to eat my triumphant sambuca jelly (and got everyone else addicted at the same time). BIG mistake. Hours later we ended up in the back yard drinking Stella and theorising about what great people we were and why we deserved better jobs/lives...
Thus came another Sunday in bed, for the entire day. The past two weekends had shaped up like this and I was sick of it! I was wasting the mere 5 hours of sunlight I was given to enjoy and I wasn't having anymore of it!
I've started back on serious point counting and the hitting the gym hard. Last Friday I did a 2 hour session then headed home for a wholesome night of mucking around with housemates and sleeping long hours. How refreshing was it to wake up on Saturday without a hangover?! And at 8:30am!! Saturday was jam-packed... I joined the Shebu library (and as such loaded up on books to fill in the time), we ALMOST bought a goldfish from the markets, Argos'd a house phone and a few things for my room and hit Morrisons up for some much needed roasting accessories. After rushing home it was off to the Natural History Museum with Ro to check out the Shell Wildlife Photographer of the Year Awards (muy bien!) then back home to waste away a cold winters night with Jarrod, the tv and a glass of wine (ONE! ... and maybe one or two very sneaky glasses of scotch. But thats it!!).
I awoke on Sunday feeling pretty good... early too! Called home and still had time to hit the High Rd for more supplies and join Jarrod up to the Hamm library (NEEEEERDS INCORPORATED). We discovered the giant Tesco's hidden in between our two main roads (oh my god!!!!) then wasted the arvo watching Justin host some music awards... ohhhh it was worth it.. ;)
So, I learnt a valuable lesson. This weekend I plan to do much the same thing. Mostly forced by my bank account to do so, but also, it felt so good being able to do all these things I'd talked about for so long (pet store, library, pc supplies etc) simply cause I wasn't stuck in bed feeling like shit! As my mum pointed out 'See Renee, as you get older, you just can't drink as much as you used to!'. I beg to differ with that, but at least I'm now learning from the disasterous hangovers. (Only 18 days til our Christmas dinner, where I can kiss sobriety goodbye...)
So far the Ipod bug has chewed at A Perfect Circle, The Living End, Foo Fighters, Raconteurs, Tool, The Black Keys, Alanis, Metallica... at least it has good taste.
++++++
In other news, I've had one of the most sober weeks on record for a while. It all started after the Citigroup party 2 November... they were the first of many banks to throw a Christmas party for their clients, and as such, much champagne was consumed (complete with it being held at Oxo Tower - overlooking the Thames and St Paul's.. photo's to follow). 2 magnums of champers later and this little troll had to be put in a taxi by one of her work elders. Coming into work the next day was like entering a battlefield... wounded and weak people lie slumped over their desks... bags of toast and bacon sanga's everywhere... the smell of hangovers was in the air. I'm not quite sure how I made it through Friday but, finally, the weekend came around. Saturday was Guy Fawkes celebrations... despite STILL feeling like shit, I proceeded to eat my triumphant sambuca jelly (and got everyone else addicted at the same time). BIG mistake. Hours later we ended up in the back yard drinking Stella and theorising about what great people we were and why we deserved better jobs/lives...
Thus came another Sunday in bed, for the entire day. The past two weekends had shaped up like this and I was sick of it! I was wasting the mere 5 hours of sunlight I was given to enjoy and I wasn't having anymore of it!
I've started back on serious point counting and the hitting the gym hard. Last Friday I did a 2 hour session then headed home for a wholesome night of mucking around with housemates and sleeping long hours. How refreshing was it to wake up on Saturday without a hangover?! And at 8:30am!! Saturday was jam-packed... I joined the Shebu library (and as such loaded up on books to fill in the time), we ALMOST bought a goldfish from the markets, Argos'd a house phone and a few things for my room and hit Morrisons up for some much needed roasting accessories. After rushing home it was off to the Natural History Museum with Ro to check out the Shell Wildlife Photographer of the Year Awards (muy bien!) then back home to waste away a cold winters night with Jarrod, the tv and a glass of wine (ONE! ... and maybe one or two very sneaky glasses of scotch. But thats it!!).
I awoke on Sunday feeling pretty good... early too! Called home and still had time to hit the High Rd for more supplies and join Jarrod up to the Hamm library (NEEEEERDS INCORPORATED). We discovered the giant Tesco's hidden in between our two main roads (oh my god!!!!) then wasted the arvo watching Justin host some music awards... ohhhh it was worth it.. ;)
So, I learnt a valuable lesson. This weekend I plan to do much the same thing. Mostly forced by my bank account to do so, but also, it felt so good being able to do all these things I'd talked about for so long (pet store, library, pc supplies etc) simply cause I wasn't stuck in bed feeling like shit! As my mum pointed out 'See Renee, as you get older, you just can't drink as much as you used to!'. I beg to differ with that, but at least I'm now learning from the disasterous hangovers. (Only 18 days til our Christmas dinner, where I can kiss sobriety goodbye...)
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
PHYSICAL CHALLENGE!
17 days with no money in the bank... what do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO??
You attempt to live off the free water at work whlist rummaging through your housemates food left in the fridge late at night. Yes kids, it's come to the ultimate moment where I become the skintest person on earth. After getting into the red this month (Read: DEBT IS BAD) I have no other choice - no, my Australian credit card is NOT the answer - but to lay extremely low for the next 3 weeks. Challenge accepted! (and did I mention I'll be popping into ASDA to do my grocery shopping this week?? *shudder*).
Wish me well.
You attempt to live off the free water at work whlist rummaging through your housemates food left in the fridge late at night. Yes kids, it's come to the ultimate moment where I become the skintest person on earth. After getting into the red this month (Read: DEBT IS BAD) I have no other choice - no, my Australian credit card is NOT the answer - but to lay extremely low for the next 3 weeks. Challenge accepted! (and did I mention I'll be popping into ASDA to do my grocery shopping this week?? *shudder*).
Wish me well.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
She's freaky... and I like it!
This little duck has tickets to Justin's gig in July 07 re-opening the Millenium Dome... ahhhh guilty pleasures!!
Friday, November 03, 2006
Sweet Home Alab... Adelaide
A guy I used to work for is visiting Oz over Christmas and happens to be going to a wedding in Adelaide. Here's a transcript of the emails going back and forth yesterday... made me think how much I actually love my little city..!
Dave: Renee, Unfortunately i can't go to Michael's bash. This is because i will be tucking into a 4+20 Meat Pie (the taste that made Australia great) in or around your home town and am thus unavailable for black pudding treats in London around this time... Dave
Me: Bugger the 4 n 20's.. tuck into a Balfours pie (with dead 'orse), Coopers Pale Ale, yiros (with LOADS of garlic sauce) and have an Farmers Union Iced Coffee. When in Adelaide....
Dave: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pie_floater
This lead to me spending the whole of yesterday look at South Australia related articles on Wikipedia (haha... The Old Gum Tree and the O-Bahn??) and harping on to everyone about how good Yiros's are.
A list of what I want to do when I'm home:
- Sunday session at the Grand!
- Cook a barbie (while it's actually hot) and have everything with barbecue sauce. (They don't have it here... they have "brown sauce"??!)
- Knock back some super chilled Pale's (and grab a jug of Pale at the Austral when they have em for $8)
- Sit in Elder Park
- Drive along King William Street (now realising how tiny it is!) up over North Terrace and past Adelaide Oval
- Watch a footy match at Noarlunga Oval (Go you Panthers!! (or "YOU LITTLE BEAUTY!!" as Robert Pyman put it so eloquently to me)
- Visit Dan at Charlesworth nuts for free samples. THE BEST NUTS IN THE WORLD.
- Eat a yiros from Rundle Street... and one from Jetty Road (and not smear the garlic sauce all over my arm and the table... oh dear)
- Marion shopping centre. (I miss shopping centres so much!!)
- Get a yogy from Central Markets!! MOCHA YOGY!!!!
- Shop for Bonds undies and trackies, Berlei bras and JeansWest jeans
- Drive up to Hahndorf/Murray Bridge.. I love the Hysen Tunnels!
- Walk down the Glenelg jetty (mmmm sea air)
- Visit DECS and the newly refurbished Wakey (I don't care if it's name has been changed.. it'll ALWAYS be the Wakey)
- Day trip to Victor (complete with Hairy Lemon soundtrack)
- Get a picture of me holding a koala at Cleland... just so I can bring it back and show everyone my 'pet' Koala.
Any other suggestions?
Dave: Renee, Unfortunately i can't go to Michael's bash. This is because i will be tucking into a 4+20 Meat Pie (the taste that made Australia great) in or around your home town and am thus unavailable for black pudding treats in London around this time... Dave
Me: Bugger the 4 n 20's.. tuck into a Balfours pie (with dead 'orse), Coopers Pale Ale, yiros (with LOADS of garlic sauce) and have an Farmers Union Iced Coffee. When in Adelaide....
Dave: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pie_floater
This lead to me spending the whole of yesterday look at South Australia related articles on Wikipedia (haha... The Old Gum Tree and the O-Bahn??) and harping on to everyone about how good Yiros's are.
A list of what I want to do when I'm home:
- Sunday session at the Grand!
- Cook a barbie (while it's actually hot) and have everything with barbecue sauce. (They don't have it here... they have "brown sauce"??!)
- Knock back some super chilled Pale's (and grab a jug of Pale at the Austral when they have em for $8)
- Sit in Elder Park
- Drive along King William Street (now realising how tiny it is!) up over North Terrace and past Adelaide Oval
- Watch a footy match at Noarlunga Oval (Go you Panthers!! (or "YOU LITTLE BEAUTY!!" as Robert Pyman put it so eloquently to me)
- Visit Dan at Charlesworth nuts for free samples. THE BEST NUTS IN THE WORLD.
- Eat a yiros from Rundle Street... and one from Jetty Road (and not smear the garlic sauce all over my arm and the table... oh dear)
- Marion shopping centre. (I miss shopping centres so much!!)
- Get a yogy from Central Markets!! MOCHA YOGY!!!!
- Shop for Bonds undies and trackies, Berlei bras and JeansWest jeans
- Drive up to Hahndorf/Murray Bridge.. I love the Hysen Tunnels!
- Walk down the Glenelg jetty (mmmm sea air)
- Visit DECS and the newly refurbished Wakey (I don't care if it's name has been changed.. it'll ALWAYS be the Wakey)
- Day trip to Victor (complete with Hairy Lemon soundtrack)
- Get a picture of me holding a koala at Cleland... just so I can bring it back and show everyone my 'pet' Koala.
Any other suggestions?
Thursday, November 02, 2006
And now kids, a story
(told to Dylan in a moment of despair (aka BOREDOM)
"... There was once was a girl called Rez. She wanted to make sure she was suitably drunk for the fireworks she hated ever so. But she was conflicted.. "I don't want to drink anymore calories!" huffed and puffed Rez.
"Aha!" she thought... "Vodka jelly! Jelly has no calories at all! AND! I'll substitute vodka for sambuca because it's ever so tasty".
Pleased with herself for thinking of such a brilliant idea, Rez trotted off to Tesco's. "What's this??? NO JELLY??". Dismayed, she left, empty-handed.
Never fear though, Rez cancelled her next lunch date in order to set upon Liverpool Street to get her mischevious hands on what she needed most....."
TO BE CONTINUED....
(EDIT: Part Two..)
"...As little Rez braved the cold, she and her friend Hayley skipped through the back alleys of Brick Lane. In and out of "offie's" they ducked, trying in vain to track down the jelly Rez so desired.
On just their second attempt Hayley cried out "I think I've found some!".
"Hooray!!" shouted Rez (forgetting her indoor voice for a moment) ... she was confronted with packets and packets of both orange AND strawberry jelly.
Rez's day had been made knowing there will be alcohol desserts for all."
"... There was once was a girl called Rez. She wanted to make sure she was suitably drunk for the fireworks she hated ever so. But she was conflicted.. "I don't want to drink anymore calories!" huffed and puffed Rez.
"Aha!" she thought... "Vodka jelly! Jelly has no calories at all! AND! I'll substitute vodka for sambuca because it's ever so tasty".
Pleased with herself for thinking of such a brilliant idea, Rez trotted off to Tesco's. "What's this??? NO JELLY??". Dismayed, she left, empty-handed.
Never fear though, Rez cancelled her next lunch date in order to set upon Liverpool Street to get her mischevious hands on what she needed most....."
TO BE CONTINUED....
(EDIT: Part Two..)
"...As little Rez braved the cold, she and her friend Hayley skipped through the back alleys of Brick Lane. In and out of "offie's" they ducked, trying in vain to track down the jelly Rez so desired.
On just their second attempt Hayley cried out "I think I've found some!".
"Hooray!!" shouted Rez (forgetting her indoor voice for a moment) ... she was confronted with packets and packets of both orange AND strawberry jelly.
Rez's day had been made knowing there will be alcohol desserts for all."
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Random
I literally haven't had time to write up Glasgow, Munich or Sardinia but for now wanted to jot down some memorable moments which keep coming up in stories being told..
- After talking non-stop about Kath and Kim on the flight to Alghero, Leah proceeds to buzz the steward only to order '2 CARDONNAYS' ("the aitch is soilent, Mrs Doi"), without realising. Fucking gold.
- Whilst lining up to get on the plane home from Friedrichshafen the German guy in front of us found it quite amusing when I shouted 'SCHNELL! SCHNELL!!' when they finally opened the gates (yes, we flew Ryanair, but it's no reason to be herded around for nearly 50 minutes..)
- At Carol's birthday last weekend, Leah (under many influences) thought she was Jake (the fuckin') Muss... "CHER CHER BRO. JUST BACK THE FUCK DOWN. GIRL. I'M JAKE THE MUSS!' Complete with arm and head movements. 24 carat as.
- In the cab from Oktoberfest to our hotel (with my two new American friends) the completely German cab driver couldn't understand why I started yelling.... it was SexyBack! And we had no volume!
- So far I've had to run for three planes because for some reason we didn't hear the boarding call. The closest was our measley flight from Manchester to Glasgow. We were set up at the bar when we noticed our flight should've been called, starting yo worry we proceed through to the gates.... "Will passengers Hawkett and Towsty PLEASE make their way to the boarding area now as the gates are now closing"... after the obligatory cacking of ones self, we piss bolted and JUST made the gate. And thank christ, cause Tool was only 4 hours away on the other end.
- Since Rodda left his bag behind at the car rental office in Alghero (containing his and Carol's stuff), we needed to go clothes shopping on our first day in Sardinia. We found a clothing outlet (Bernardi's).. which, on closer inspection was like a tarted up Primark. Us girls went digging through handbags and any other bargain bins and Carol eventually rustles up some underwear. What does Rodda come back to the car with? "A lined and fitted Italian suit! For only 39 Euro! That's like 20 quid man!!". That night at dinner Carol got fucked over on ordering fish which eventually rang up at a whopping 49 Euro's. Rodda couldn't help but point out "You can buy an Italian suit for that!"
- Meeting Warrick Capper's psycho lookalike at the AFL exhibition match. Somewhere there's a photo of him taking a speccy over my shoulder after screaming at him for a photo (OH DEAR).
- Being told that Worksop is actually pronounced 'WORKsop' not 'WARsop' like I was told by some old fogey working at Nottingham station. Christ sake! Will someone get it right please!!
I must write up those holidays in full before I forget all the classics.. come to think of it, but maybe it's better that way?
***
Oh, and p.s. - HAPPY 11 MONTH ANNIVERSARY TO ME AND V!! 11 FRICKING MONTHS!!!
- After talking non-stop about Kath and Kim on the flight to Alghero, Leah proceeds to buzz the steward only to order '2 CARDONNAYS' ("the aitch is soilent, Mrs Doi"), without realising. Fucking gold.
- Whilst lining up to get on the plane home from Friedrichshafen the German guy in front of us found it quite amusing when I shouted 'SCHNELL! SCHNELL!!' when they finally opened the gates (yes, we flew Ryanair, but it's no reason to be herded around for nearly 50 minutes..)
- At Carol's birthday last weekend, Leah (under many influences) thought she was Jake (the fuckin') Muss... "CHER CHER BRO. JUST BACK THE FUCK DOWN. GIRL. I'M JAKE THE MUSS!' Complete with arm and head movements. 24 carat as.
- In the cab from Oktoberfest to our hotel (with my two new American friends) the completely German cab driver couldn't understand why I started yelling.... it was SexyBack! And we had no volume!
- So far I've had to run for three planes because for some reason we didn't hear the boarding call. The closest was our measley flight from Manchester to Glasgow. We were set up at the bar when we noticed our flight should've been called, starting yo worry we proceed through to the gates.... "Will passengers Hawkett and Towsty PLEASE make their way to the boarding area now as the gates are now closing"... after the obligatory cacking of ones self, we piss bolted and JUST made the gate. And thank christ, cause Tool was only 4 hours away on the other end.
- Since Rodda left his bag behind at the car rental office in Alghero (containing his and Carol's stuff), we needed to go clothes shopping on our first day in Sardinia. We found a clothing outlet (Bernardi's).. which, on closer inspection was like a tarted up Primark. Us girls went digging through handbags and any other bargain bins and Carol eventually rustles up some underwear. What does Rodda come back to the car with? "A lined and fitted Italian suit! For only 39 Euro! That's like 20 quid man!!". That night at dinner Carol got fucked over on ordering fish which eventually rang up at a whopping 49 Euro's. Rodda couldn't help but point out "You can buy an Italian suit for that!"
- Meeting Warrick Capper's psycho lookalike at the AFL exhibition match. Somewhere there's a photo of him taking a speccy over my shoulder after screaming at him for a photo (OH DEAR).
- Being told that Worksop is actually pronounced 'WORKsop' not 'WARsop' like I was told by some old fogey working at Nottingham station. Christ sake! Will someone get it right please!!
I must write up those holidays in full before I forget all the classics.. come to think of it, but maybe it's better that way?
***
Oh, and p.s. - HAPPY 11 MONTH ANNIVERSARY TO ME AND V!! 11 FRICKING MONTHS!!!
I was working in the lab, late one night
Cobweb covered pubs, fake bats, face painted adults and drinking shots from test tubes. Yep. Last night was definitely Halloween! (p.s. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAZZA AND BEC!! X)
To follow this tradition (which I will be bringing back to Oz with me) comes Guy Fawkes this weekend. (Remember, remember, the 5th of November...) the skys will be ablaze. Far from being enthusiastic about the fireworks, I'm being dragged to Battersea Park to see what it's all about (HOORAY IT'S GOING TO BE ABOUT 7 DEGREES!) All I can say is... I better be under the influence of something.
To follow this tradition (which I will be bringing back to Oz with me) comes Guy Fawkes this weekend. (Remember, remember, the 5th of November...) the skys will be ablaze. Far from being enthusiastic about the fireworks, I'm being dragged to Battersea Park to see what it's all about (HOORAY IT'S GOING TO BE ABOUT 7 DEGREES!) All I can say is... I better be under the influence of something.
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