The miracles of Word

Ooh I've got so much to rant about, I'll be here for a while. Thanks for the messages of support btw, it's good to know some people out there read my inane rantings! Thanks to the miracles of Word, at the moment I can write it all offline and then hopefully load it all up quickly once a week. At least I won't need to see a therapist. So, Tom Cruise. Today I heard that he bought Katie a phone and when she discovered it had a tracking system in it (yes a TRACKING SYSTEM!), he blithely announced that it was so he would know she was safe at all times. Controlling freakazoid anyone?! Now I have no love for Katie Holmes either. Contrary to the general opinion when Dawson's Creek ruled television, I found Joey really really annoying. All that dithering and mithering on about Dawson or Pacey, Pacey or Dawson. Spare me. But to be turned into a smiling idiot and stalked by Scientology nuts just by her bad choice in men seems a little unfair. Hey I've been stalked, he was only a librarian not some multimillionaire, but it's no fun.

My new choice of rant that will probably keep me going for some while, though mostly in my head as I can't get to my blog often enough, is my "new house". Out of the blue, like a miracle from the skies, has come a house that is for sale, is lovely, and that we can afford. Well for "afford" read "take all our money to the last penny and keep us up to our necks in debt for 30 years" but at least it'll be ours. So we've had our offer accepted, have started all the legal shenanigans, and I'm hoping for the best (but also quietly convinced it will all fall through so am living the dream while I can) - but I think the stress is only just beginning. I must be a sadist to agree to this. What's wrong with renting? You can move when the roof starts leaking or at least shout at your dodgy landlord to fix it. Now there's a theme for a rant - dodgy landlords I have known!

Down but not out

I have hit a small snag. My blog has been banned at work. What is a girl to do?! Not being in the technological era at home, we have yet to get the internet and we are about to move house so that is off for a few months. I went to an internet cafe after work last week - and their internet was down. I'm trying not to take it as a sign. Sad as it seems, I miss my blog. Just being able to write at home (when I can) or after work isn't the same as being able to write when the mood takes me. (Tom Cruise is still high on my celebrity news radar!).

So for now, I'll write when I can and hope to get on the old t'internet soon. But don't forget me!

When librarians go wild...

I've just got back from a 4 day library conference and it nearly killed me. Librarians on the razzle are a scary bunch, they manage to party till 4 or 5 in the morning and then turn up bright and bushy tailed for lectures at 9 the next morning. Well most of them did. And don't get me started (oh go on then) about librarians and discos. You've never seen so many usually sober and sedate ladies of the cardigan variety throwing shapes to Britney, and when Hey Ya! came on it was one of the the funniest things I've ever seen. One lady who admittedly wasn't a librarian, more of a publisher, was dirty dancing to some songs with a bemused man - and when she tried to get her leg round his neck mouths dropped all around the dancefloor. She will certainly be seen in a different light from now on.

Thankfully, this madness is only once a year, then we librarians go back to our normal day jobs and hide the crazy dancing, drinking and partying personas till next time round. You should all be very thankful indeed.

It's dangerous to be a Rock Star

I was watching a badly dubbed Metallica documentary on German Mtv recently (don't ask, the only other channel we had was Eurosport) and I didn't realise that their original bassist was killed in a coach crash in their early days to be replaced by Jason Newsted. They had a dodgy coach (or a dodgy driver) and when it crashed he got thrown out of the window and it landed on top of him. He had swapped bunks with Kirk Hammett, and my friend back at college had a serious thing for Kirk so I hope she never knew this, but I digress. This got me thinking to how dangerous the life of rock stars can be - it's not all throwing tv's out of windows and doing dodgy things with ladies of the night whilst under the influence of Jack Daniels. Take the drummer out of Def Leppard for instance. He lost his arm in a car crash, the whole of Lynard Skynard were wiped out in a plane crash. And what about Gloria Estefan? And Justin from the Darkness nearly had his career ended by a glass injury.

Pft. It's much safer where I am I think.

Celebrities (Pt 2)

Tom Cruise is now allegedly going to marry Katie Holmes. Marry?!?! Only a short time ago they met (well she's that much younger than him so he had to wait till she grew up obviously), she got lots of nasty looking snogging rashes, and now they're getting married?! Is life in Celebville so short that what would normally take at least 6 months to a lifetime (you know, meeting, courting, getting engaged, marrying, kids, dying...) is all done within about 3 months then on to the next victim, sorry, love of their life? Much as I like to see new love and smiley happy people all over the tv and trashy magazines, this is all a bit weird. He protests a bit too much methinks. I'd like to say I'll be buying a hat (for my invitation would be a definite, natch) but poor old Katie will get a nice career boost then disappear - where is Penelope Cruz now eh?! You see my point. There'll be a "Missing Celebrity Ex-girlfriends" show on when Big Brother finishes. Nicole was his wife so she doesn't count.

Bleedin' foreigners!

Americans. Don't they get everywhere? And they are so LOUD. In gay paree - the land of romance, croissants, very strong coffee - the atmosphere was blighted by braying American accents. Now, I work with a lovely Californian and I do heart lots of American rock stars (sadly one of the Americans I came across wasn't Chris Cornell), but highly excitable American teens abroad do tend to grate. Whilst admiring the architecture of Notre Dame, and basking in the romance of the moment, we were rudely interrupted by a girl pronouncing to anyone within about 100 miles that she was on her European tour, had "done London, and was going to to Rome next". Well bloody sod off to Rome then, and put a sock in it too. Why is it that when I was a lass, the closest I got to a tour was a trip to visit my friend who lives in Yorkshire and then the annual trip to Cornwall?

And in a restaurant one evening, all the customers were entertained by a young chap telling his mate about his shenanigans at a "frat party" (don't you just hate that term?) with a young girl that he "didn't really like but she just jumped on him and it would have been rude to throw her off" !!! Is it just me? Who wants to hear that kind of crap while having their dinner? I just hope the girl in question saw the error of her ways, and next time uses her teeth instead.

And please, people who go abroad, at least attempt some communication in the mother tongue. Learning to say hello, thankyou and goodbye should be compulsory, and tested at the borders before people are let in. The number of Americans (and Brits too to be fair) who were patronising and rude to poor shopkeepers and cafe owners for not understanding English made me very cross. Or maybe the French are canny and pretend ignorance so they don't have to converse with the annoying teenagers?! By jove, I think I've cracked it :-)

Ooh la la!!

Bonjour! Well we did all the main attractions - the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre (which incidentally is free on the first Sunday of the month - bonus!) and a museum which promised severed heads but when we got there realised it was very good marketing as they were actually severed statue heads from Notre Dame that had been chopped off, and not real heads at all. Damn. I do have a fascination for the morbid things in life...A fine time was had by all, and we managed to make ourselves understood to all the people we met who curiously had no knowledge of English at all. My other half was very pleased with his souvenir purchase of a lighter that flashes blue, red and white and plays the French national anthem while a green flame burns at the top. Sacre bleu!

As is always the way with trips that I take, we met several people who were away with the fairies. One man in our "local" brasserie/tabac played the national game Rapido which is like the Lottery but a new game runs on tv every 5 minutes. We had a go, as you can play with only 1 euro and win 30 back so the odds are good, but this man was completely obsessed. He had some weird strategy involving grunting and was very cross when he didn't win. All hands in the air whilst cursing with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Very gallic. Then he'd throw his old unwinning slips on the floor with his cigarette stubs and the poor lady who worked there (who was 75 if she was a day and very withered) had to clear it all up whilst frowning pointedly at the ashtrays and dustbins. One evening we were highly entertained in a nice little restaurant by a group of French students sat across from us. They refused to eat until their wine glasses were refilled (rather regularly) and shouted at the sullen waitress until she complied, managed to spill a bottle of red wine everywhere, and smoked between mouthfuls of beef bourgignon. I sometimes think I am way too polite, what do I care what people I'll never see again think of me? Us Brits are way too restrained.

The Olympic 2012 bid completely passed me by, it was only when the tv showed the Champs Elysees full of people in a publicity stunt for the Paris bid that I realised why the Eiffel Tower was so quiet on Sunday. Doh! I don't know who I would prefer to win, London or Paris. The Metro completely stumped me, foolishly I thought that being familiar with the tube I would be ok, but no. It was more luck than logic finding our way round between all the different lines and the double decker trains are scary man!

Next time we go I will be much more confident and there's still loads of things I want to do, we didn't make it to Montmarte or the Moulin Rouge, I want to see Ewan McGregor on an elephant before I die.

Bonjour!!

Hee!! I'm off to Paris tomorrow for le weekend and although my French is GCSE level and never used in a real-life situation with proper French speaking people (why did my school never have trips apart from to Yorkshire?), I feel duty bound to practice my pigeon French on the poor people I meet. I can say "can I have a tea with milk please?" and ask where the nearest garage is as I have a flat tyre. So I should have no problems at all then. I have heard conflicting stories about French people (no offence meant mon ami) from refusing to speak English to poor English tourists clutching a guide book, to refusing to speak French altogether, but speaking English really well instead to prove the point. Hmm. I think with a cheery "Bonjour!" and a smile I should win their hearts over and get my tea and spare tyre with no problem. (Especially with too many croissants oui?!).

Planes, trains ... and HORSES?!

Well you'll be pleased to know that I did indeed make my train with enough time to buy beer, but shortly after the trip began I started to wish I hadn't. We travelled with a well-known train company - think hot air balloons, rockets to the moon - in one of their well advertised brand-spanking new trains. Hurray! Or not. After departing London, we started to notice that things weren't quite right with our "new" train - water was coming from the roof, the toilet door wouldn't stay shut (leading to some hilarious getting to know yous with the passengers), and the intercom was perfectly legible which meant something was definitely up. So, we get to Rugby and the lovely northern conductor announces that they have to "reboot" the train to solve the problems, which in effect meant switching it off and on again. Now, I've done that with printers that won't play ball, and indeed computers, but I thought trains were slightly more complicated than that. So we sat in the dark at the platform for a good 20 minutes, then thankfully the train decided to work and we could set off again.

So far so good, but now the train is late, and being the last train out of civilization for the evening lots of people have missed their connections. No problem chirped up the conductor, he promised to get everyone to their final destinations be it by taxi, bus or ... on horseback. I swear we smelled horses when we walked up the train, I assumed this was due to the reported problems with the toilets on the fancy new trains, but are train companies now keeping horses on board just in case they need extra transportation? Times they are a'changing...

Rescue me!

The rest of the world is on the beach or in pub beer gardens and where am I? I'll tell you where I am, in exactly the same place as I was at 9am this morning. For reasons only known to the Great Librarian in the Sky, my library is staying open until 8pm and I'm the lucky one still here. There are 3 other libraries linked to us and they all had the sensible idea to close early seeing as it is a Bank Holiday weekend and all. So this means all the sad workaholic library users have come here instead. And I am VERY cross. I have a train to catch after I leave here, and time is tight, so if anyone gives me grief and tries to photocopy a case at 7.59 I will not be accountable for my actions.

If I'm not here next week, please start a collection for my bail.

Thankyou.

Put it away!!

My god. I know it's sunny today good people of London but please. On my way to work this morning I have seen unnerving amounts of flesh. And why is it the minute the sun comes out people decide to wear their summer gear but team it with their winter gear?? I saw several ladies in lovely summery sandals and skirts - but with their winter wooly coats on the top, one lady had her hood up too. So is it that Londoners don't feel the cold from the waist down? I also saw a man's bottom. Yes that's right. B.O.T.T.O.M. He was cycling to work (jolly good show, good for the environment and all that) but his shorts (skimpy at the best of times) had decided to head south leaving me a marvellous view of his bum cheeks. At 8.00 in the morning. Tempted as I was to stick my head out of the window and yell at him (I can't wolf whistle), in the usual repressed British way I merely shuddered and carried on to work. Eugh.

Talking happy talk

Now this doesn't happen often. This week mainly nice things have been happening to me and do you know what? Instead of accepting them and carrying on merrily, I am waiting for the fall - the REALLY big bad thing that is stored up for me. Is this normal? If I was indeed normal I would deal with the blow when and if it happens, and not be miserable in anticipation. For example, last night my old man offered to take me to the Maldives for a holiday later in the year (he heard off someone who heard off someone else that someone is doing really good deals - a definite then!). Now, those who know me know we had a few problems with our honeymoon earlier this year, and this seems to have instilled in me a fear of travel agents and indeed holidays. So I wasn't over-eager (I should have bitten his hand off there and then) but I made non-committal noises as I immediately assumed a) it would never happen and b) if it did we would almost certainly face danger of death or a very nasty stomach bug while we were there.

I have developed a suspicion of things in general too. After my run-ins with the travel agents and my evil bank, I now never believe people when they say they are going to do something. So it was a great surprise when I phoned up a train company to ask why I hadn't been given seats when my tickets arrived and they immediately allocated me some and sent out new tickets which arrived the next day. Ordinarily I wouldn't have even phoned them to check, I would have assumed my evil nemesis wanted me to stand up for 5 hours in a corridor near the toilets.

So what should I do? Try to be more positive and shrug off the bad things that happen occasionally (and thereby drive everyone I know mad by my cheeriness) or keep moaning?! Hee hee, I think the latter don't you? It's much more satisfying :-)

Wedding buffet attack!

So, I was at a wedding reception on Saturday evening. It was very nice, there have been lots of weddings to go to this year - a sure sign of getting old. Anyway, halfway through the evening a buffet was brought out (as usual we'd all eaten before to counter unexpected events - and on this occasion just as well!) and it all looked lovely, hot stuff, sandwiches and quiches etc.

And then it was gone.

Honestly. In the five minutes between noticing the arrival of the food and turning around again hoardes of starving (they must have been) wedding guests stampeded the table and left empty plates and stunned looking waitresses in their wake...

Piranas or locusts (thanks Mr Lady Librarian!) had nothing on these guys.

Going underground...

...or things I think about when forced to take the tube

Now I rarely get the tube if I can help it, maybe once a week if I have to. Last night I had to. I went to Holborn and it's really weird. As you descend into the BOWELS OF THE EARTH (said in a scary mad scientist fashion) it gets hotter and hotter and by the time you reach the platform it's really uncomfortably hot. Now it rained most of yesterday and isn't that warm yet what with it only being May and all, so I have come to the conclusion that they must have built Holborn underground station right above the fiery furnaces of hell/centre of the earth (boiling lava etc whichever way you look at it).

Do you believe in fate?

Hell yes!! Yesterday I booked a weekend break in Paris after failing miserably to book Barcelona or Madrid as they are all full of rich parents and their kids on half term breaks. And today I read an interview with the World's Most Handsome Rock God (aka Chris Cornell) who I assumed lived in some cool part of America like Seattle but he LIVES IN PARIS!!!

Do you think I'll bump into him if I hang around enough sleazy rock god type dives?

Dear Gwen Stefani...

NO!!! Normally you are the height of cool fashionableness. But for the first time I have seen a picture of you and I was shocked. Yes shocked. White tights with cut off toes and stirrups?! White tights?? Without toes?? Over stilettos?!?! Stirrups?? It's just not right. We all used to wear those horrible leggings with stirrups over our trainers but that was when we didn't know any better.

Please don't do it again.

See what I mean here

Oh my god!

To quote the marvellous Kaiser Chiefs - I have spent the whole day (don't tell my boss) trying to book a short weekend break. I have come to the conclusion that internet travel sites don't really have any holidays on them, they are just there to mess with your head. I decided on Barcelona (where to go is vague, the date we want to go isn't), and with all the major travel sites, they let you spend ages picking a hotel then when you try to book it, the flights aren't available! Why don't they tell you that when you select them? Then I decided Barcelona was too popular and tried Madrid. Found a fantastic bargain in a 5* hotel that looks like it was built out of gold, and again, after a lengthy process to select everything - no available flights. I certainly picked the wrong weekend, at this rate it'll be Butlins in Skegness. I bet that's all booked up too.

I don't have much luck with high street travel agents either now I come to think of it. Take my last holiday, I was sat 3 rows back from my husband on very long flights, we didn't get picked up at the airport, and had to hitch a ride with some crazy (but lovely) locals in a very small and cramped hire car.

And another thing, I was just sent on a mission to return a ream of paper for my boss that was bought yesterday with cash but was slightly the wrong colour. I had the receipt, the paper hadn't been opened so I fulfilled all the criteria for refunds yes? Oh no. Stroppy paper lady wanted to refund the money onto a credit card. I said "but we paid in cash" and she really fought to not give me the money back in hard cash. I explained that we were a small library and didn't have corporate credit cards or gold amex cards or anything fancy like that and after all my trouble with my personal bank card I definitely wasn't handing that over. And anyway, how can you refund money onto a card that didn't buy the thing anyway?

I'm beginning to think it's just me. And I watched the Spongebob movie last night and it was a disappointment. They changed his voice and everything. And he wasn't as funny in a long feature film. I don't think anything will please me this week!

Pirates vs ninjas (the aftermath)

As it turns out, pirates drink rather too much rum, get a bit bolshy and then feel a bit sorry for themselves the day after.

As a pirate vs ninja party which had been looked forward to for many many months, it was a bit of a letdown. People who hadn't even bothered to dress up were allowed in the door (if it was my party they would have been left crying on the doorstep), there were a worrying number of corsets for my liking, and not many ninjas. Ninjas mainly drink lager btw. But the costumes of my immediate group were amazing, worryingly my nearest and dearest made a fabulous ultracamp Freddie Mercury pirate and I am a bit concerned that I'm going to find him dressed up like a pirate every other day, you know, just making a cup of tea in the kitchen with his faux moustache and eye patch on. Our ninja had a great Fu Manchu moustache on (slight problem in the glue department, he had to be dissuaded from using superglue at one point - A&E anyone?) and lots of swords. Yaarrrgghhh.

On the news over the weekend they were suggesting making young offenders wear recognisable outfits - this should be changed slightly into making them wear pirate outfits. It would make people smile instead of throwing eggs or tomatoes at them (nazis anyone?) and whoever has the most inventive costume can get a few hours knocked off their time. Or perhaps a career in the theatre?

Pirates vs ninjas

I'm off to a party tomorrow night and I will mainly be a pirate. I could have been a ninja but my stealth techniques (never that good at the best of times) will be destroyed by rum.

Anyway, pirates drink rum obviously. What do ninjas drink? Green tea I should imagine.

Yarghhh, have a good weekend me hearties!

Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?

Eee!! It's only 4 days until Spongebob the Movie comes out on dvd and the new Audioslave album comes out on the 23rd.

Can life get any better?