Oh dear

I feel odd today.
I think it's because yesterday was odd.
There was a weird atmosphere between me and Philippa all day, as we were working together but due to go out together later.
It was like a big old fat ugly elephant in the room that neither of us could bring ourselves to talk about.
As a result, the meal itself was a bit of a disaster really.
I'd spent all day trying to work out whether I should consider it a date, or a meal with a work-mate, or an evening out with my boss.
I got in such a state that instead of enjoying a relaxed evening with someone I like, I turned into a nervous wreck and barely said ten words all evening. By the time the dessert menu arrived, we sat there like a married couple whose love has died and can't find anything to say to each other.
Not exactly what I'd been hoping for.

I'm thinking of sending her an e-mail at home to apologise and try to make the situation better.
This is my draft version:
"Philippa, it wasn't you, it was me. I haven't been out with a woman for ages and I'd forgotten how to be myself in social settings. You looked lovely and the food was lovely, but i couldn't eat it and enjoy it as my guts were screwed up tighter than a nuns knickers. I drank wine to try and qwell the nerves, which was unfair because you were driving and not drinking so you couldn't have any, and you were paying for it, and it didn't work anyway as it made me even more withdrawn. Your evening must have been shit. If we do it again, I promise to be more relaxed, and better company. I'll take a bottle of Kalms or start smoking or something, and hopefully you'll see more of the person you liked enough at work to ask out for a meal, even though it was really a thank you meal rather than a date. Anyway... call me..."

I don't think there's a way I could make that e-mail worse, but if you can spot one feel free to get in touch.

RC 31-7-10

Schadenfreude express

I have a new favourite taste - MACADAMIA NUTS. Not the salted ones that dry your mouth out and make you want to vom - just the whole, untreated, admittedly over-priced ones you can get in most health shops now. Philippa brought some in today as a snack and they're LOVELY. If you haven't seen them before, they're the ones that look like a poodles testicles, but taste much better. Trust me on this, for I know of which I speak...

Hannah and I had a good chat today, for the first time in ages. Things are going swimmingly with Nathan. I’m pleased for her, obviously, but in some ways I miss the old version of my sister. Sometimes when your own life is a mess it’s nice to have a sibling around who’s even more chuffed-up than you are.

RC 29-7-10

Bonus

Philippa has asked me out!!
She says she’s found it really hard to be in charge with Tom away, and she knows she’s taken it out on me a bit, and she’d like to buy me a meal to apologise and say thank you! So we’re off for a bit of posh nosh on Friday night, on her. When I say ‘on her’ I mean she’s paying, I don’t mean I’ll be using her as a table. Funny how your wit returns when you have something nice to look forward to.

RC 26-7-10

A thought about GOK WAN

Wouldn't his name be more appropriate if the 'K' was moved to the end of his surname?

RC 25-7-10

A good day

Life at work took a slight turn for the better yesterday. Tom came in to see how things are, and to tell us he’ll be coming back to work on Monday. Philippa almost cried with delight. Tom said he wants to take it easy for the first few weeks so he can still be helpful at home, and said he’s been hearing good things about how I’ve been working, so would I like to stay on full time for a bit longer? I said yes, of course. I feel that I know what I’m doing there now and the extra money has been helpful, so why not?
Tom popped out for celebratory cakes and biscuits, and made us all a cup of camomile tea. He was incredibly gracious and grateful to us for running things while he was off doing dad stuff. I conceded that Philippa is the real hero of the situation, and she beamed like a child being spoiled by its grandparent. Tom tells us we can both expect a nice bonus in our wages at the end of the month. I like him more and more by the second.
Philippa spent the rest of the day smiling and being much nicer to me. I still think she’s a bit of a bitch, but that may be my childish emotional state talking, and not me.
Anyway I had a large bottle of wine last night by way of celebration and I’ve woken up with a headache.

RC 24-7-10

Tents, and tense

Hannah and Nathan are having a holiday together next month. They’re camping at a Christian music festival somewhere in Cheshire. I’m assuming they’ll be in separate tents.

Things are still a bit frosty between me and Philippa. I get the impression that she thinks that her victory over me on the tennis court gives her the right to treat me as an underling in the office. I am fighting that concept tooth-and-nail. Technically and politically, I am a different department to her so she can’t tell me what to do. I think she knows that too, but I’m the only other person in the office at the moment, so I’m in the firing line. I know she’s got more work on while Tom is off, but it’s no good taking it out on me.
I have to say though, this job was much more enjoyable when she was being nice to me.

RC 22-7-10

Just the two of us

I spent the evening with Ted yesterday. It was nice to have a good catch-up, as the last few times I’ve been round his house it’s been full of drunk football fans. This time it was just he and I (or ‘us’ in old money)
He was full of good cheer. We chatted about The Open Championship and it took me ten minutes to realise we were talking about golf. Ted says I should have popped round on Sunday to watch it with him and I said ‘I wish I had done that, instead of being beaten up on a tennis court by a megalomaniac sex kitten.’
Ted also talked about watching the highlights of something called ‘Fish-o-mania’ on Sunday, and expressed his disappointment at missing Raymond van Barneveld’s nine-dart finish. He really does love his sport. If Sky showed an afternoon of snail racing and the Latvian ten-pin bowling championships he’d tune in to watch. Some women would go spare if their husbands watched that much sport, but I think Beryl loves it, because if he’s in his armchair watching telly, he’s not out in the garden getting sozzled or getting on at her in the kitchen.
He asked if I’d like to re-start our Sunday Afternoon Chess Club. I said ‘to be honest, I’d rather have my eyebrows plucked out one hair at a time by a blind babboon armed with rusty tweezers.’
I explained my reticence at getting weekly beatings again, and I think he understood my feelings, so we’re going to try learning something new together. The plan is to play something we’re both inexperienced in, so we can play on an even footing and learn from each other as we go.
He’s suggested something called Mah Jongg, which I’m sure he’s made up. It doesn’t sound like a hobby to me, it sounds more like the name of a Klingon.

RC 21-7-10

Deuce-Love-Adieu

Philippa and I played tennis yesterday.
For two hours.
I can barely move.
I turned up full of enthusiasm and pasta. Philippa turned up in a sporty dress with her hair tied up, and armed with an expensive looking racquet.
She looked fantastic. I spent most of the first hour distracted by her athleticism and her legs.
After about 15 minutes, I realised just how hard a game it is to play.
How the Hell Isner and Mahut played all day without dying is remarkable.
It took me six attempts to get a serve over the net, and then Philippa whacked it back past me before I'd even had a chance to stand up straight.
I lost the first set 6-0, and the second set 6-3, and I think she was going easy on me.
I crawled off the court like a defeated wrestler, soaked to the skin and panting like a cat in the sun; Philippa skipped off the court with not one bead of sweat on her beautiful brow.
It's a stupid game, and one I have no interest in playing ever again.
My right shoulder feels like someone has filled the socket with gravel.
A few minutes ago, I asked Philippa if she could give me a massage, considering it was her stupid fault I'm in agony. She just smiled sweetly and told me to get on with my work. I told her it was hard to process orders on the computer when I can barely lift my hand onto the mouse. She told me if my activities away from work were hindering my ability to do my job then maybe I should consider changing them. I said "Damn straight I'm changing them. I'm never playing tennis with you again for a start. You're like a Caucasian Williams sister."
She told me not to forget my place.
The power is going to her head, and it's making her unbearable.
I want a bag of ice for my shoulder, and a new job.

RC 19-7-10

Look who's back..

I had a text from my old supermarket colleague Jared this morning.
It arrived at 9.07am.
It said this:

"Just blocked the toilet at work with an absolute monster shit. Seriously, Ches, it was like a black mans thigh."

I do miss him.

RC 18-7-10

A quiz about Ben Fogle

Which of the following things has Ben Fogle not done successfully?

Rowed across the Atlantic Ocean
Trekked to the South Pole
Completed the Marathon des Sables
Made a television programme that anyone gives a shit about

RC 16-7-10

Has the worm turned?

Panicky and Paranoid - the two guys from the warehouse who were with us on the beach on Saturday - have been incredibly nice to me this week. Bless them. Amazing what the fear of losing your job will do to you, and how it will change your attitude towards the person who has the information that could finish you. They even seem to be moving differently around me. They’re trying to walk erect and upright in a way that resembles homo sapiens. Normally they mooch around with what I call ‘The Oasis Strut.’ You know the thing - when Liam Gallagher wannabes in their late teens and twenties walk like they’ve dislocated both shoulders and shit themselves.
I think they’re trying to look as efficient and hard-working as possible, to prove that the drugs aren’t affecting their performances at work.
I’m not sure why they’re bothering. Neither Philippa nor I intend to tell Tom about their ‘weekend habits’ and I don’t think Tom would care anyway, but they don’t need to know that. It’s nicer having them bring me cups of tea and buy me cakes, than having them call me ‘Lizzie’ and throw toy dinosaurs at me.

RC 15-7-10

My liberating love of language lingers on..

I have a new favourite word:
Onchidoridoidea
Look it up, it’s brilliant. And more importantly, say it out loud. It’s even more satisfying to say than ‘onomatopoeia‘, and sounds even better than ‘lickety-split’ or ‘wobble-board’

RC 14-7-10

Courting

Philippa has challenged me to a game of tennis. I was moaning about not having time to cycle now I’m working six days a week, and saying that I’m starting to feel unfit again, so she asked if I’d like to play with her this coming weekend. I accused her of being unimaginative, and only playing tennis because Wimbledon has just been on, but it turns out she’s been playing regularly since she was ten. I myself have never played. This is like déjà vu, with Ted and chess being replaced by Philippa and tennis. I must have a sign on me somewhere that says “IF YOU HAVE A LIFELONG LOVE OF A SPORT AND ARE VERY GOOD AT IT PLEASE ASK ME TO PLAY IT WITH YOU SO YOU CAN BEAT ME TO DEATH AND HUMILIATE ME.”
We’ve booked the court for midday on Sunday.

RC 13-7-10

Poetry upgrade, example 2

If you can keep your head when all around are losing theirs;
if you can face adversity, and rise above it like a cork on a wave;
If you can get through a day of life and not be upset, or anxious, or concerned in any way;
If you can take all that the world can throw at you - including traffic wardens, rain when you’ve put your washing out, stepping in dog poo when you’re wearing sandals, buying a new shirt and forgetting to take all the pins out before you put it on, the fact that one of your remote controls (normally the one you’re looking for) will always be missing, always having something on the car that needs fixing, people driving 15 miles below the speed limit when you’re running late for work, those annoying pillocks that take up the whole aisle in a supermarket instead of going up one side and then down the other - if you can take all this, and still smile..
Then you must be on valium.

RC 12-7-10

Stories from the Beach Pt 2 - 'Sandy Twats'

We went to the beach after work yesterday. Two of the warehouse boys, who obviously want to get in Philippa’s pants, offered to take booze and a barbecue by way of apologising for all the piss-taking I’ve been subjected to during the week. Nice of them, I thought, until we got there and they started handing round what looked like sun cream. It was a tube of Insect Repellent, and they’d taped the word ‘lizard’ over the word insect. And so the agony goes on…
They told me they’d be cooking up some mushrooms, which I thought sounded fantastic - eating outside using only food that the natural surroundings provided - so I didn’t bother taking any tea. Then, when I got there, I found out what kind of mushrooms they were talking about… They offered to share them, but I declined. I get crazy if I have too much coffee, I’m not going to start trying hallucinogens.
They ended up completely wasted, and sunburnt, and scared to swim as one of them was convinced the sea had turned into an army of jelly babies. We were very tempted to leave them there, but our good natures got the better of us. When we dropped them off, they made us promise not to tell their boss about their drug use, in case it got them sacked. Philippa pointed out while Tom is away she, as Office Manager, technically takes over as their boss.
They left, panicky and paranoid, and probably haven’t slept yet.
Good.
If Philippa and I hadn’t had a nice walk along the beach while they were hiding from demons in the dunes it would have been a totally shitty night.

RC 11-7-10

Poetry upgrade, example 1

I’m still working six days a week, which is a grind, but the money will be useful. To take my mind away from it all on my lunch break, I’ve been re-writing poems to make them more accurate and truthful. Like this one..

I wandered lonely as a cloud;
So actually it must have been quite crowded, mustn’t it?
I mean - you don’t often see just one cloud up in the sky, do you?
No - they’re caused by certain atmospheric conditions which tends to see many of them alongside each other..

I’m sure there’ll be more to follow…

RC 6-7-10

Research, and ribbing

I’m thinking about researching my family tree. It was something Hannah and I talked about after mum left. Our knowledge of our relatives, past and present, was based almost solely on our mother’s drink-addled memory and habitual bullshitting, so we’re not really sure if any of the information we have is correct. Most people who ever had to deal with my mum shut her out of their lives completely, so there could be uncles, cousins or stepsons we know nothing about at all. Initially it was going to be a joint project to help wile away the winter evenings, but now Hannah is pre-occupied with Nathan, I may take it on as a solo gig.

The guys at work are having fun at my expense. There are lots of posters up warning of lizard invasions, and some bright spark has mocked up a picture with my head on a chickens body, and a lizard sitting on its back. Most of them have also started calling me ‘Lizzie’ which is a crap nickname, but better than ‘Ches’ I suppose. Philippa says I should be flattered rather than annoyed, as it shows they’ve accepted me as a member of the workforce. The favourite song in the warehouse today was a re-working of ‘Sex On The Beach’ featuring lyrics about “Rory getting ****ed by a lizard.”
I admire them for their wit, but I hate them intently.

RC 5-7-10

Stories from the Beach Pt 1 - 'Natural Encounter'

Philippa picked me up at noon, and we met the others at a packed, sunny beach. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but I’m not particularly confident around water. Or to put it another way, I’ve never learnt to swim. So I wandered around in my shorts while the others splashed and swam. Later, after a particularly embarrassing attempt at beach volleyball, I realised my shoulders were starting to burn, so I thought it best to cover up. When I put my shirt back on, something scratched my back.. I panicked and ripped my shirt off thinking it might be a bee, but when I looked over my shoulder there was something at least three inches long sitting on my back. I flicked it off thinking it was a caterpillar, but when I looked down it was a bloody LIZARD.
I panicked instantly thinking I was hours from a painful death, until I remembered there’s no indigenous venomous lizards in Britain. But then I thought ‘what if it’s foreign, and had snuck into the packet of strawberries we bought from the shop?’ and the panic returned. As I approached hyperventilation, someone pointed out that the strawberries were grown on a farm two miles away, and that the lizard hadn’t bitten or scratched me anyway, so I started to feel a bit better.
I’ve just spent two hours researching online just in case, and it looks like it’s something called a ’common lizard.’ Typical British name. There’s lots of them, so we call them a common lizard. Or maybe they normally hang around on commons. Either way it’s an uninspiring and unimaginative name.

This has reminded me why I used to spend all my spare time sitting indoors eating junk food. Anytime I venture outside, I seem to attract a bevy of vicious insects or invertebrates that would normally leave people alone. I must have some kind of ultraviolet target on me that only creatures armed with stings or poison can see.
I’d like to say I impressed Philippa with my bravery in the face of nature’s vicious onslaught, but in reality I’d say at least three hundred people heard me scream like a girl and start jumping around like a fox on broken glass.
David Attenborough I ain’t.

RC 4-7-10

Red mist

My meeting with Dr Kozhliak didn’t go well yesterday. I may tell you more about it at a later date when I’ve calmed down a little bit, but in the meantime do please contact me if you can recommend a decent GP in Norfolk..
I went to discuss it with Ted when I got home but he was too busy moaning about Andy Murray to listen. “Never put your faith in a Scot” he said. Dr Kozhliak is Polish, so I assume Ted was talking about the tennis.
I may stop watching sport with Ted. He gets so angry. After last nights football he said that Uruguay should be shot for crimes against sport. The whole country, by the way, not just the football team. He also said that if he was Ghanaian he would hunt down the guy who missed their penalty and ‘string him up by his own perineum.’ I’m not sure where he gets these ideas from, but I’m sure glad he’s not Ghanaian.

Tomorrow should be a fun day.
Some of us from work had agreed to meet up for a Wimbledon party if Andy Murray reached the final. He didn’t, so we’ve had a re-think. Well, Philippa had a re-think and then called everyone. Eight of us are heading to the beach with a cooler full of beer and a BBQ.
I was going to invite Hannah and Nathan, but I was worried he might be tempted to walk on the sea.

RC 3-7-10

newmonthhaiku

The first of July
Summer is here in full force
and I am happy

Sometimes it’s hard to
judge if your haiku words will
fit within it’s rules

Philippa is nice
People will say we’re in love
If I don’t quit soon

RC 1-7-10