| Decisions, decisions, decisions... |
[17thOct, 2009|12:54] |
I have just discovered that my ex has 'taken back' yet another thing he'd given to me as a present. This time it's a necklace that he's had shipped over from New Zealand for my birthday last year. I'm not ungrateful, but when he asked me what sort of thing I liked, I said I didn't mind, as long as it was silver. Of course he got a great big gold thing that really wasn't to my taste at all. Concequently, it didn't get a lot of use. I have just seen this necklace around the neck of his new girlfriend in her profile picture on Facebook.
Behold the lost treasure of... uh... Cowley Road.
Now then, on the one hand I'm not in the slightest bit surprised, as this is precisely the sort of thing I have come to expect from him, on the other hand, I don't think the new girlfriend will be too chuffed to discover she's been given a second hand present from his previous girlfriend. My head tells me to merely continue to laugh at his delightful antics and take no further action, my heart tells me to give into my childish side and drop him in in by posting a subtle message on his Facebook page where the new girlfriend will be bound to see it.
Poll #1472469 Head vs. heart.
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 2Should I expose the ex as a cheapskate?
I shall follow your advice, oh wonderous deciples of LJ. Show me the way! |
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| Got wood? Well, yes I have, as a matter of fact... |
[9thOct, 2009|09:06] |
Anyone can look like this hunk of wood burnin' love - Yes! Even YOU! Simply carry this convenient 10 stone block of carved oak around with you, then, should any ab flashing moments arise... Hey presto! Be the envy of all your blind and partially sighted friends!
That's not all! We'll even throw in a tin of wood varnish fake tan for FREE! All this can be yours for a mere...
Order now to avoid disappointment!
Picture for display purposes only. Real mannequin may be constructed from blu-tack. No refunds. |
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| I knew I shouldn't have ignored that gipsy. |
[27thSep, 2009|13:42] |
I have spent an hour and a half boiling my fresh beetroots. The home grown lettuce, tomatoes and (shop bought) celery are all prepared and awaiting consumption. The ham is sitting there, all, um, hammy. The bread has been defrosted and is ready to be sliced for my uber delicious sandwich. Everything's perfect. Except...
*gasp*
I'VE RUN OUT OF SALAD CREAM!! D:
I might as well just go back to bed now. My day is ruined. |
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| We're not really singing from the same hymn sheet. |
[25thSep, 2009|09:22] |
Words my phone does not have in its dictionary:
Duvet
Margarine
Custard
Biro
Phlegm
Cooker
Words my phone does have in its dictionary:
Plebicite
Hark
Discomfiture
Betwixt
Thither
Nasdaq
My phone is really not on my wavelength at all.
In a complete change of topic, there is an area manager at my company who, whenever he has need to write an e-mail referring to more than one computer mouse, uses the word mouse's. It really gets on my wick, but I'd just like you all to appreciate the super-human effort it's taking to control my urge to rant on about it for a good 300 words or so.
Don't even get me started on the apostrophe. |
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| A* customer service |
[12thAug, 2009|19:36] |
Customer: Hi, I need another one of these cartridges.
Maggot: [after a lot of searching] I'll 'ave to order that.
Customer: Um...
Maggot: Do you want it for today?
Customer: Yes!
Maggot: Well, it won't get here for today. It'll 'ave to be tomorrow.
Customer: Oh. Never mind then.
A quality example of how to build someone's hopes up and shatter them in one cruel step. Nice work Maggot. |
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| USP fail. |
[9thAug, 2009|10:21] |
"The unique thing about Parker pens is you have to keep the lid on or they dry up."
Dear Lord - It's been nine years. When will the torture end?
DEAR HUMAN - IN ABOUT A YEAR WHEN SHE RETIRES.
Nice one Lord! |
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| Spooky goings on. |
[5thAug, 2009|21:04] |
I have CONCLUSIVE PROOF that I am being perved on by a tech-curious ghost.
Recently, whilst showering, my razor has repeatedly 'fallen off' a flat surface (ususally at least three times per showering session) but only ever whilst I've had my eyes closed.
Then... the pointer on my laptop screen will start wandering around the screen of it's own accord (not whilst the mouse is over a shiney surface or anything), but it will usually go straight to a picture and then keep moving back and forth between the same three or four points on the screen (usually pictures, but sometimes just certain words). Poor bugger hasn't learnt to click on anything yet, but that's probably a good thing. Who knows what I'd find being delivered to my house should he work out how to use my PayPal account...
Someone did die in this house in the 1890's, so perhaps he's still hanging around. Looking at naked women and mucking around with computers... Typical bloke. |
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| Xbox eye. |
[7thJun, 2009|20:08] |
I seem to have developed a rather worrying inability since the introduction of an Xbox into my life.
Short games are fine, but should I spend longer than an hour on a game, I have a sneaking suspicion that I become so engrossed in the game, that I stop blinking.
Surely that can't be normal, can it? That's like forgetting to breathe if you find yourself caught up in a good book, or drowning in your own saliva because you've not remembered to swallow once in a while during a long film. If various basic bodily functions simply decide to have a bit of a break if I get distracted, it won't be long before I find myself in some seriously hot water.
[Note to heart - I've always got my beady eye on you, so don't even think about it.] |
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| Sunny Summer Sunday Sum-up |
[31stMay, 2009|19:12] |
Well, today turned out to be a really lovely day. I met up with some school chums and we had a lovely lunch by the river, did a bit of shopping and sat in the park for a while. Wandered home after they'd all gone their respective ways, mowed the lawn, and am now enjoying the last of the day's glorious sunshine in the garden. I'm especially pleased with myself though, for despite being in the sun for over 7 hours, I'm not burnt! In your face Mr. Sun. I'm packing factor 45 and I ain't afraid to use it.
Tomorrow shall consist of another trip into town (for photography purposes), some fairly heavy duty room tidying and hopefully some more garden frolics.
This weekend pleases me.
**edit**
Shitty biscuits. I've just discovered that I *have* been burnt after all. My scalp's been got where I part my hair. Curse you, you flaming ball of scalp burning gas!!
*shakes fist at the sunset* |
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| Waiting for Jack. |
[30thMay, 2009|16:44] |
Twelve years ago, to celebrate us finishing our A Levels, myself and four friends went to Majorca for a two week holiday. At the time, I was sort of seeing a guy (only met up a couple of times) and I knew he liked Jack Daniels, so I bought him a bottle as a present. Upon my return home though, I realised that the only reason I liked him was because he liked me, so I did what any mature young lady would do and just ignored his phone calls until he got the message.
Today I finally open that bottle.
Not sure it was worth the wait, but it'll do. |
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| Heyalp! (and gerrof moi laaaand) |
[14thMay, 2009|09:33] |
I have come to the conclusion that I may be wheat and/or dairy intollerant, so I'm going to attempt to give them up for a while to see if that helps with things.
If anyone has any experience of this and knows any good alternatives (or ones to stay away from), I'd be very grateful for any help you're able to offer.
Right, with that out of the way, I shall continue with the thrilling tale of either the discovery an exciting new culture or a fearsome case of ethnic cleansing... (Imagine some dramatic DAH! DAH! DAH! style music.)
Picture the scene...
I'd come home from work and checked on my little Japanese maple out the front of my house and thought it felt a bit odd when I touched it, but didn't really think that much of it, until I looked at my hand and noticed that I had a few little clingons, basically doing what they do best. I looked back at the tree and what I had assumed to be bark was in fact a near total coverage of aphids.
Ugh.
I hastilly put my usual crisis plan into action and set about fervently ignoring the problem and hoping it'll just magically go away. I checked back again a week later and guess what? It only went and bloomin' well worked! Not one disgusting life-force sucking insect to be seen! In your face proactivity.
That's not to say there weren't casualties though. My three remaining little trees all suddenly died. (Feel free to imagine the dramatic music again here.) A highly suspicious case of Cypresside if you ask me, as there was absolutley nothing wrong with them previously. Huh. Well, I went to the back garden to check out the Mystery Fruit Tree to see if it had done anything yet (surprise, surprise, it hadn't) and you'll never guess what I found. Those pesky kids aphids had only gone and taken over the Mystery Fruit Tree!
So now I've either discovered the beginnings of a Romany aphid culture (not seen any caravans or lucky heather yet), or they've been displaced by a more fearsome force. I suspect it's either squirrels or dolphins - they're both pretty sneaky. I'll keep you posted as to any future developments. |
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| Bank Rubbishday Monday |
[4thMay, 2009|19:45] |
I am very much In A Grump.
I am in fact so far into The Grump that I am invisible to the outside world. I like to think of it as a Grump coccoon, from which, eventually, I shall emerge as a crumpled and dishevelled new being who, provided she doesn't get eaten in those first few fragile hours, will be able to flit and fly and frivol to her heart's content.
The causes of my Grump are numerous and my ever shrinking tollerance for each new annoyance caused my mental state to diminish substantially until the inevitable happened... There was a slight eye leakage incident on the walk home from work.
In my defence, the drinking tube that seriously injured the dromadary's spine, was a man with a group of late teens repeatedly screaming at me that I was a fat slag as I tried to cross the road.
Wanker.
Anyhew, for the time being, I am still wallowing in the coccoon, but hope to break free by the time tomorrow arrives. I suspect a dose of ATA* may kick-start the emergance process.
Come on Bols, don't give up!
*Ashes To Ashes |
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| Stuck for ideas... |
[5thMar, 2009|21:24] |
Today I purchased my very own HOT GLUE GUN. (Pew! Pew! Pew!) I've developed a decidedly itchy glue trigger finger since its purchase three and a half hours ago. I don't have the time, or the inclination to use it on the thing I bought it for at the moment, but I really want to play with it.
I considered gluing all the fruit in the fruit bowl together, into a giant fleshy totum pole, but I suspect that at some point I shall want to eat said fruit, and I doubt glue would enhance the expreience, or count significantly toward one of my five a day. I could always just settle for gluing my fingers together, I'm usually a dab hand at that.
Billy Connolly is looking dead pleased with himself on telly at the moment as "wildlife doesn't scare [him]", and demonstrated this fact by pointing out how he completely failed to flinch when a lemming waddled past about five feet away from him. The lemming in question looked to be an awe inspiring 10cm or so long, but did indeed have a spine chilling nose twitch, so I can see that his smugness is totally justified.
I have to run the shop dressed as a school girl tomorrow.
I can see an unfortunate accident occuring during the night involving the hot glue gun, six sticks of glue, and my front door. |
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| Birthday blues. |
[4thMar, 2009|22:05] |
Well, in the past month I have turned 30, almost (but didn't actually) resigned from work and started the exhausting task of readying the garden and planting out the first bulbs and seeds, none of which have been particularly spectacular. I'm still hoping to be hit with some sort of divine inspiration for what would make me happy, but short of some long lost relative dying and leaving me a lovely little cottage with enough grounds to try to live some kind of hermit style sulf-sufficient lifestyle, I don't think I'll ever work it out.
In a slightly less depressing vein I have a shiny new toy, which I still haven't got tired of playing with... my lovely new netbook. It's my main birthday prezzy, and I heart it. There 's someone near work that has a password protected wi-fi account, but as futile as it is, I haven't given up trying ot guess their password. I'm hoping it's coming from Pizza Express behind us, who advertise free wi-fi, so I've been trying lots of pizza related words, but to no avail. Think I'll start on pasta words next.
We've been changing the wall colour at work, which involves sticking up these large plasticy sheets, which absolutely reek of chemicals and solvents when they're first taken out of the box. Maggot had this to say about the smell..
"That reminds me of celery... Or 'lectrical cables when they go wrong and start burnin'."
Remind me never to let her make me a salad. Or let her re-wire anything for me either.
Actually I'd quite like to see her try to plug in an appliance using a stick of celery. |
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| Happy 2009. |
[2ndJan, 2009|10:57] |
New Year's Resolutions:
1. Keep the house clean and tidy.
2. Pay of all, or at least a significant part, of my credit card.
3. Loose weight and generally get healthier.
4. Be braver.
Realistic New Year's Resolutions:
1. Get the house tidy, but fail to maintain any kind of order for longer than a week.
2. Carry on paying off piddly amounts so it'll take approx. 56 years to pay off the full balance.
3. Do an exercise video one time and assume that all the weight will just fall off by the morning.
4. Perform one misjudged act of 'bravery', make a complete tit of myself and feel compelled to move into a cave a long long way away from any other human being in order to lessen the shame.
Brilliant! Should be a good year. |
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| Festive horror. |
[30thNov, 2008|13:20] |
It's been 342 days. Three. Hundred. And. Forty. Two.
I thought it was all over. I mean, I know it's all going to start again, but that I can deal with. What I can't deal with is the fact that it never ended.
Would someone please explain to me how, after all this time, I am STILL finding needles from last year's artificial Christmas tree attaching themselves to my person?
I'm all for realism, but isn't the point of artificial trees that they don't drop their needles? It scratches your arms to buggery putting the damn thing up, it sheds if you even so much look at it with too much force, and it takes up loads of space, so I'm considering having a Christmas aloe vera this year. Much less hassle. Granted the six baubles might seem a bit pathetic, and the lights would probably have to just go round the pot, but I think it's about time the humble aloe was allowed to join in the horror festivities.
Right, I'm going to go and look at the cupboard now. Actually getting any decorations out at this point would be too much for me, so if I can gradually build up to getting them out of the cupboard first, it'll be far less traumatic when they come out of the boxes in the end. |
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| Limax lump challenge. |
[8thNov, 2008|20:29] |
The most exciting thing that's happened today was that I found that a slug had done a poo in the shape of Japan in my shower. I wonder which other countries he will poop out for me during the course of this week. (He's taken refuge on the ceiling, so he wins as there's no way I can reach to get him down.)
Still, there's the fireworks in a couple of hours, so yay!
** EDIT**
Stupid rain. Bah. |
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| Knock knock. Who's there? Someone who's not giving up their day job. |
[2ndNov, 2008|12:37] |
"How many mice does it take to fvck a lightbulb?" poses The Boyfriend. I questioningly repeat the query back to him combined with a particularly fine trademark 'Look'. "Ah! No! I messed it up! ... How many mice does it take to screw in a lightbulb*?"
Suffice to say, he's not very good at jokes.
I however am clearly HIGHLY humorous (to look at anyway). I have made myself a very sexy makeshift neck brace out of a scarf, due to the fact that I can no longer move my head without uttering some kind of Maria Sharapova style grunt. I'm choosing to blame new new door handle/locking mechanism at work, which has been installed at head height and requires you to have placed at least in the top 10 in the World's Strongest Man competition in order to open it.
Damn you door. You win this time.
This war is not over though, for I possess both a packet of matches and the ability to use them. Let's see how well you're pathetic Fire Door sticker protects you tomorrow, eh? (For legal reasons, I should like to state that I will probably not actually set fire to the door. Should some scorch marks be seen within the next 24 hours, this would be merely some sort of freaky coincidence, and in no way proof of any kind of irresponsible fire based vengeance.)
*The answer's: Two, but I have no idea how they got in there! Har, har, har. |
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