I have been luxuriating in the fortunate position of having a company car for the last five years. Some of which I detested (horrid '53 toyota avensis which severely lacked power) and some of which I loved (2.2 turbo diesel Honda Civic with lots of toys, heated leather seats etc. which I still miss, sniff!) But never the less having a fairly new car at your disposal for a few extra taxed pounds is extremely handy. Having lost my last job, I am now cutting about in my old car, a twelve year old Rover 200 (sexy?). As previously blogged this has had some set backs, smashed windscreen being one. It was slightly unreliable and after my sister's father-in-law had spent 3 hours trying to get it started one day, I decided to bite the bullet and put it in for a new battery and exhaust etc.
I was beginning to get used to motoring again. My previous job ensured that I travelled around 500 miles a week. So a couple of weeks without a car was quite restricting. I am the type of person who also doesn't know the first thing about public transport, I haven't been on a bus for about ten years, I held up the queue annoyingly, in the rain, trying to ascertain how much it would cost to go into the centre of Glasgow and where exactly they stop! So with the car now resonably reliable I was a busy little motorist once more, catching up on all the things that I hadn't been able to do.
I was gaily accepting invites left, right and centre because now I had the car and could fulfil these commitments even in the terrible weather of late. However, today en route to my mates leaving-lunch the car wouldn't start. Now I know that it isn't the battery as the starter motor is firing away but the engine refuses to catch. So I had to do something I hate and let down people who were expecting me.
But there is a larger issue at stake here. In a couple of weeks I will be rejoining the work force. I have a lovely new job (read scary and ambitious) which is based over on the other side of the city. I will really need to have my own transport for this as I will be working long, possibly irregular, hours and part of my job will be meeting with colleagues based all over the west Glasgow area.
So what to do, potentially pour more money away trying to make the Rover reliable and roadworthy, buy a cheap banger in the hope that it is less of a money pit? I really am not in a position to get into car finance currently. Not to mention that my tastes in cars slightly exceeds any possible budget at present.
So here I am browsing the internet from the confines of my flat in the hope that someone will be trying to offload a VW Scirocco, Civic Type R, Audi A3 or mini Cooper S for a few quid. Dream On!!!!!
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
Wednesday, 18 November 2009
My Annis Horriblis?
Well 2007 was a truly horrendous year for me, and I have spent the intervening time trying to piece my fragile self back together. Don’t get me wrong some truly amazing things have happened in the time since, I visited places I have never seen before, found out who my friends really are, and how fantastic they can be, had a ring side seat for the Sydney harbour fireworks at New Year and found a great home which I love with neighbours whom I adore to name but a few.
However a series of unfortunate events in recent months is proving that 2009 aint too hot either. I’m begining to think ‘what next?’ and that my parents dread to hear from me as it will just be a further tale of woe. My run of bad luck was kicked off in Sept when I had to go in to hospital for the first time in my life for an operation. This left me needing to stay with my parents due to incapacity and relying on my mother to help bathe me and wash my hair, sort of humiliating beyond the age of a small child. However, all went well and no further treatment was required so not essentially bad luck in itself.
On returning to work I discovered that I had lost my job and would be unemployed in a mere few weeks. This was devastating as I am the sole earner in my household and never quite got round to the grown up thing of saving and contingency plans. I had to fulfil certain work commitments before I was due to leave and was in Edinburgh on a two day exhibition when the next unfortunate event took place.
My colleagues and associated peers were enjoying a few refreshments in a bar after the very busy first exhibition day, when we turned to leave I realised that my Mulberry bag which had been sat beside us had been nicked! I searched the entire place in the hope that the thief was after cash and cards and had the decency to dump my bag. Unfortunately it was gone, along with my keys, phone, MAC make up, Marc Jacobs perfume, Chanel lip gloss and a USB stick containing my LIFE!!! It was these losses that were felt keenly, after all, cards can be cancelled and replaced!
I had just organised a replacement driving license and paid the £20 fee when I opened my mail and some Good Samaritan had found my licence in a hospital in Edinburgh and had posted it back to me. Although this restored my faith in mankind, it was alas a tad too late to save me the cost and hassle of replacing it. I fear bits and pieces of me will be turning up all over the greater Edinburgh area. I do not understand why thieves take handbags now, in the age of internet and phone banking my cards were cancelled within the hour and like the Queen I barely ever have any cash about my person, although the bag itself was Mulberry it had been well used and had that loved worn-in look.
So with the end of job came the end of being upwardly mobile as my company car was collected. Fortunately my parents had retained the run-around that my sister and I had used a good 10 years previously. Although a little rough around the edges it did the job and I was grateful my parents could spare it for my indefinite use. Needing one or two minor maintenance jobs I was off on public transport to pick up some jump leads, wiper blades etc before I could start motoring. On returning home, I walked passed my parking place and found that someone (you left your footprints all over the bonnet!) had sat? stood? on the windscreen completely shattering it!
Things were getting ridiculous, my neighbours resorted to leaving sprigs of lucky white heather and lottery tickets on my door step, in the hope that the wind would change.
These things happen and I’m sure I would have taken them all in my stride had they been more evenly spaced or had I not been so fragile in the first place. I am hoping that things are behind me now and I can laugh about these events (sort of). The support from friends and family make me realise that I am in fact lucky and the opportunities that I have had and will continue to have place me better off than a lot of people and at the end of the day I have my health, everything else is expendable is it not? And so as December fast approaches I am hopeful that 2010 will be my year.
However a series of unfortunate events in recent months is proving that 2009 aint too hot either. I’m begining to think ‘what next?’ and that my parents dread to hear from me as it will just be a further tale of woe. My run of bad luck was kicked off in Sept when I had to go in to hospital for the first time in my life for an operation. This left me needing to stay with my parents due to incapacity and relying on my mother to help bathe me and wash my hair, sort of humiliating beyond the age of a small child. However, all went well and no further treatment was required so not essentially bad luck in itself.
On returning to work I discovered that I had lost my job and would be unemployed in a mere few weeks. This was devastating as I am the sole earner in my household and never quite got round to the grown up thing of saving and contingency plans. I had to fulfil certain work commitments before I was due to leave and was in Edinburgh on a two day exhibition when the next unfortunate event took place.
My colleagues and associated peers were enjoying a few refreshments in a bar after the very busy first exhibition day, when we turned to leave I realised that my Mulberry bag which had been sat beside us had been nicked! I searched the entire place in the hope that the thief was after cash and cards and had the decency to dump my bag. Unfortunately it was gone, along with my keys, phone, MAC make up, Marc Jacobs perfume, Chanel lip gloss and a USB stick containing my LIFE!!! It was these losses that were felt keenly, after all, cards can be cancelled and replaced!
I had just organised a replacement driving license and paid the £20 fee when I opened my mail and some Good Samaritan had found my licence in a hospital in Edinburgh and had posted it back to me. Although this restored my faith in mankind, it was alas a tad too late to save me the cost and hassle of replacing it. I fear bits and pieces of me will be turning up all over the greater Edinburgh area. I do not understand why thieves take handbags now, in the age of internet and phone banking my cards were cancelled within the hour and like the Queen I barely ever have any cash about my person, although the bag itself was Mulberry it had been well used and had that loved worn-in look.
So with the end of job came the end of being upwardly mobile as my company car was collected. Fortunately my parents had retained the run-around that my sister and I had used a good 10 years previously. Although a little rough around the edges it did the job and I was grateful my parents could spare it for my indefinite use. Needing one or two minor maintenance jobs I was off on public transport to pick up some jump leads, wiper blades etc before I could start motoring. On returning home, I walked passed my parking place and found that someone (you left your footprints all over the bonnet!) had sat? stood? on the windscreen completely shattering it!
Things were getting ridiculous, my neighbours resorted to leaving sprigs of lucky white heather and lottery tickets on my door step, in the hope that the wind would change.
These things happen and I’m sure I would have taken them all in my stride had they been more evenly spaced or had I not been so fragile in the first place. I am hoping that things are behind me now and I can laugh about these events (sort of). The support from friends and family make me realise that I am in fact lucky and the opportunities that I have had and will continue to have place me better off than a lot of people and at the end of the day I have my health, everything else is expendable is it not? And so as December fast approaches I am hopeful that 2010 will be my year.
Monday, 16 November 2009
Miss Angry in Glasgow
This week I did something that is an exceptionally rare occurrence for me. I wrote a letter of complaint (well technically an email of complaint). I am the type of person that is always paying too much for gas and electricity. Never returns a item that is is faulty or doesn't fit (I have many items in my wardrobe that still have the tags on, furthermore there are many items abandoned at my mum and dad's house that have never been worn) I simply cannot be bothered with the hassle that this ensues. I know, I hear you all sighing with disapproval at my careless ways. I am far more likely to write a letter (email) of praise to a shop / business that has exceeded expectations. I worked for a long time in shops as a student and in customer service as a professional and thus when i get truly good service I want to ensure that the management / organisation appreciate its quality staff.
So what could possibly have provoked this sloth-like person to put pen to paper / fingers to keyboard? I was recently shopping in a famous British shop (you know the one, excellent food adverts that make you want to lick the TV and always a celeb-fest Christmas commercial) and saw that a favourite candle of mine had returned to the shelves. Excellent I thought as I shoved one into my basket. Now this candle had long been a favourite of mine. I always liked to burn one in my house, and had taken to gifting them to people who invited me over for dinner. Traditionally there were two sizes available a large and regular. Both encased in glass jars and boxed for sale. The large was the first to disappear from the shelves and sporadically the smaller one could be found in the larger stores, but eventually they disappeared all together.
So imagine my delight at finding, the smaller one, admittedly, back on sale. I duly purchased the boxed candle and went about the rest of my day. The following house work day I dug the candle out of the cupboard and removed it from its box ready to place it resplendent on my coffee table. Well, I was hugely disappointed, although the box packaging had remained the same the glass jar had shrunk, and thus the candle, and gone was the paper label replaced by a cheap looking, haphazardly placed, clear sticker describing the contents.
So disappointed that my £7.50 (the other glass candles in a slightly larger size are £5) had not bought the product that I expected I felt compelled to write to share my views. Now I am sure that they all had a good laugh in the office when they received my 3 paragraph rant about a ridiculous, extremely minor product in their range! I have lots of candles in my flat ranging from tea light in holders that have a combined cost of about 50p to exquisite sensual scented ones at £37 a pop. Why I felt such anger at the cheap look of the £7.50 scented candle in glass jar I still do not know, why that anger drove me to share my views with the retailer, I do not know. The point is that I did. If I applied this energy to researching gas and electricity suppliers, returning unsuitable clothes and complaining about faulty goods I'm sure I'd be able to afford many more scented candles!
So what could possibly have provoked this sloth-like person to put pen to paper / fingers to keyboard? I was recently shopping in a famous British shop (you know the one, excellent food adverts that make you want to lick the TV and always a celeb-fest Christmas commercial) and saw that a favourite candle of mine had returned to the shelves. Excellent I thought as I shoved one into my basket. Now this candle had long been a favourite of mine. I always liked to burn one in my house, and had taken to gifting them to people who invited me over for dinner. Traditionally there were two sizes available a large and regular. Both encased in glass jars and boxed for sale. The large was the first to disappear from the shelves and sporadically the smaller one could be found in the larger stores, but eventually they disappeared all together.
So imagine my delight at finding, the smaller one, admittedly, back on sale. I duly purchased the boxed candle and went about the rest of my day. The following house work day I dug the candle out of the cupboard and removed it from its box ready to place it resplendent on my coffee table. Well, I was hugely disappointed, although the box packaging had remained the same the glass jar had shrunk, and thus the candle, and gone was the paper label replaced by a cheap looking, haphazardly placed, clear sticker describing the contents.
So disappointed that my £7.50 (the other glass candles in a slightly larger size are £5) had not bought the product that I expected I felt compelled to write to share my views. Now I am sure that they all had a good laugh in the office when they received my 3 paragraph rant about a ridiculous, extremely minor product in their range! I have lots of candles in my flat ranging from tea light in holders that have a combined cost of about 50p to exquisite sensual scented ones at £37 a pop. Why I felt such anger at the cheap look of the £7.50 scented candle in glass jar I still do not know, why that anger drove me to share my views with the retailer, I do not know. The point is that I did. If I applied this energy to researching gas and electricity suppliers, returning unsuitable clothes and complaining about faulty goods I'm sure I'd be able to afford many more scented candles!
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
My Love for Sia
Picture the scene its Oct 2008 a Sunday night around 8.30 my neighbour and I were doing our usual in heading over to the local pub for a glass of wine and some jazz. My neighbours are both heavily in to music and make many great recommendations for my CD collection. They also play in several bands a miox of rock and funky jazz. Anyway this Sunday evening we were en route to see my neighbours' husband and his jazz quartet. Whilst walking the short distance to the pub (quite literally across the road) my neighbour was explaining how she had been catching up on old Jools Holland episodes and had seen a great female vocalist whom she looked up online and subsequently found that she was playing in Glasgow's the Arches that very evening. So we stop mid route and indecision takes over, do we go on a wild goose chase into the city to try to get a ticket or do we proceed as normal? Being slightly more technically aux fait than my neighbour, I fish out my mobile and try to get details of the gig and find out if there are still tickets available. Thus the decision was made, my neighbour seeing that I was keen enough to investigate decided to jump in her car and just turn up, worse case we would be back at our local in half an hour no harm done.
So we turn up at the Arches dutifully pay the required ticket price and in we go, neither of us really knowing what to expect. What then followed was one of the best gigs I have ever been to. I had no idea who Sia was or what she had done, but I loved it from the very moment that she took the stage in her UV reflective suit! Obviously as the show reached its climax I recognised zero 7's Destiny and the penny finally dropped.
So we made last orders at the local and were literally buzzing with excitement for the gig. The following day both of us were deperate to get our hands on 'Some People Have Real Problems' and independently accessed Sia's website to post her a message saying how much we had enjoyed the gig. Something neither of us had ever done previously!
From the first play of 'Some People Have Real Problems' I was absolutely hooked and listened to it continuously in the car and home for months. I know absolutely every bar and word but still get enormous enjoyment out of listening to the album again and again. 'Colour the Small One' is also fantastic but slightly more melancholy on the whole than 'SPHRP' which contains a heady mix of fabulous vocals, haunting melodies, dancey pop and quirkiness. 'CTSO' had some recognisable tunes from adverts and American dramas such as Grey's Anatomy.
I thoroughly recommend that you at least give 'Some People Have Real Problems' one play or at the very least check out some of Sia Furlers stuff on webites like YouTube and Spotify, please, you'll thank me when you too are in love!
Friday, 23 October 2009
Oh The Shame!
Well today, two very shameful things happened to me. I'm beginning to think that I must have done some very nasty stuff in a previous life!
Shameful encounter number one, I was at a customers laboratory and was making the usual small talk and chit chat that is becoming in a sales rep, we discussed the latest developments in science, ropey on my part! When we decided to move our meeting to the conference room upstairs I duly followed Mr Customer. Whilst plodding up the stairs at Mr X's back I accidentally lost my footing and missed a step causing me to lurch forward and bump my entire face off my customers ascending arse! I apologised profusely and tried to recover some modicum of dignity but I feel that I would have been best placed just turning round and leaving!
Shameful encounter number two. Now this story would benefit from some background info. Mr Y was old colleague and one time good friend we stayed in touch sporadically but after an encounter where he shouted across Sauchiehall Street that if i ever left my then partner he'd marry me. Well that dispelled any doubts that I had about his sexual orientation. Our friendship cooled somewhat after that event for the benefit of my then partner and due to change in work circumstances. Anyway roll on a couple of years and I meet him again this time not so newly single and we had a conversation where the jokey offer of friends with benefits was discussed. Later that day in a moment of madness and complete blase confidence i decided to get hold of his mobile number and I did text the following verbatim. 'Hi Y, its Jillybean here just giving you my number in case you ever want to wine me, dine me, .......'. What was more embarrassing that actually sending that text was that it did not even warrant a response from Y. I mean to say what red blooded male does not take up an offer like that?!?
So today I'm walking out of a local shopping centre and who do I bump into but Mr Y, well, If I could have died on the spot. Such acute embarrassment! Several minutes of awkward conversation ensued then we made our very polite goodbyes and went on our way. No references were made to my hussy-like behaviour which I think made things worse, anyway next time I see him it won't be anywhere near so humiliating, right?
Shameful encounter number one, I was at a customers laboratory and was making the usual small talk and chit chat that is becoming in a sales rep, we discussed the latest developments in science, ropey on my part! When we decided to move our meeting to the conference room upstairs I duly followed Mr Customer. Whilst plodding up the stairs at Mr X's back I accidentally lost my footing and missed a step causing me to lurch forward and bump my entire face off my customers ascending arse! I apologised profusely and tried to recover some modicum of dignity but I feel that I would have been best placed just turning round and leaving!
Shameful encounter number two. Now this story would benefit from some background info. Mr Y was old colleague and one time good friend we stayed in touch sporadically but after an encounter where he shouted across Sauchiehall Street that if i ever left my then partner he'd marry me. Well that dispelled any doubts that I had about his sexual orientation. Our friendship cooled somewhat after that event for the benefit of my then partner and due to change in work circumstances. Anyway roll on a couple of years and I meet him again this time not so newly single and we had a conversation where the jokey offer of friends with benefits was discussed. Later that day in a moment of madness and complete blase confidence i decided to get hold of his mobile number and I did text the following verbatim. 'Hi Y, its Jillybean here just giving you my number in case you ever want to wine me, dine me, .......'. What was more embarrassing that actually sending that text was that it did not even warrant a response from Y. I mean to say what red blooded male does not take up an offer like that?!?
So today I'm walking out of a local shopping centre and who do I bump into but Mr Y, well, If I could have died on the spot. Such acute embarrassment! Several minutes of awkward conversation ensued then we made our very polite goodbyes and went on our way. No references were made to my hussy-like behaviour which I think made things worse, anyway next time I see him it won't be anywhere near so humiliating, right?
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
Just One of Those Things
I'm beginning to think that I am actually living in some Bridget Jones esque existence, the other day I was running around Edinburgh University seeing customers (one of which was a complete honey btw) and trying to be all polite, knowledgeable and professional. When I got back to my car at lunchtime something was tickling me, so I look down and realise that the under wiring from my left bra cup had completely worked its way loose and was escaping out the neck of my scoop t shirt. I had no idea how long that had been the case, how embarrassing! Anyway I couldn't get it to go back in so i had to just remove it completely and spend the whole afternoon seeing customers with extremely lopsided breasts! Still waiting to see what effect that it had on my sales for that day ;-)
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