Safe

Thursday, July 7th, 2005 | Bad Days | No Comments

BBC NEWS | UK | Multiple blasts paralyse London

UK Home Secretary Charles Clarke said several explosions in central London had caused “terrible injuries”.

Just to let everybody in Australia know that I’m safe and well.

Arse.

Tuesday, February 22nd, 2005 | Bad Days | No Comments

Now, I’ve never claimed to be an athlete. At one point in my time, I may have considered myself to be a swimmer, but I’ve never ever had the ability to run, or throw, or catch - all necessary qualities of any so called athlete.

I was always picked last for every team (except the Waterpolo team). I never won any running races as a child, and have been called ‘Ducky’ for my waddly little run. Beloved laughs himself stupid when I run.

So, I’m hoping against all odds that my affinity with water will extend to frozen water. We’re going skiing next week, and I’m almost as frightened as I am excited.

Frexcitened: The experience you have just before you Bungy Jump, or ski off a large and perfectly safe mountain.

We’re off to Bulgaria where the skiing is hectic and the alcohol is very cheap. Not that I’m ever going to drink ever ever again. I made that Vow last week. But its reassuring to know that if I do become the newest human pretzel, I can drown the tears in a cheap beer and not worry that it’ll be luke warm.

But, more than my fear is my desire to be able to beat Beloved to the bottom of the slope… You see, he’s an ‘athlete’. He can run. He can catch. He can throw. He was always chosen first on the football team, and he laughs when I run.

I’m going to beat him, or die trying.

Fridays

Saturday, February 19th, 2005 | Bad Days | No Comments

Friday Nights in the Squashed Frog household are usually quite tame. Mr Frog will go and play with his toy car while I cuddle down and do very little thinking aided by the tv or a book. It’s lovely and cosy and a little bit romantic when a dirty Mr Frog runs over just to get a kiss.

Last night, we went to the In Laws for dinner. Once again, quite tame. This week the night was shared with others with the same ‘chill out’ objective. Cold beer was had. Chinese take-out was eaten. Belts were loosened and much chilling out was had by all.

Our friday nights are tame. We dont go out and get drunk and fall down. We dont go out and become rowdy and drunk and vulgar, and we definatly dont go dancing with high heels on. Not at all.

Well… perhaps once.

JW (right) is screaming with joy. I’m screaming with pure terror.
“who put this bastard wine in my hand?”

Work Do
(pronounciation: werk´ dŭ-), officially a form of bonding. Used to promote teamwork within a corporate environment. Often degenerates into a messy blur of wine, dancing, random hugging and pain.
Team bonding is achieved on the Monday when the photographic evidence is analysed and somebody is crowned the Drunkest Pisshead in the World, until the next Work Do.
Tales of hangovers and alcohol poisoning are often related to Work Do’s, often triggering the inevitable “Never Again” oaths.

World of Pain Illustrated in Perfect Clarity.

I serve as an example to others.
DONT DO IT

Freeparking.co.uk

Monday, June 7th, 2004 | Bad Days | No Comments

Yet again, Freeparking Support has let another customer down.

I tried to renew my domain (always hosted with them, never transferred) and the DNS has just been scrambled.

For over 10 days, my company has been without a website and without crucial email due to a Freeparking screw-up.

Not acceptable.

After waiting a week for a response through their ticket-system on their website, I’ve now got to the end of my patience. I’m calling their premium callrate, and STILL getting no responce.

My advice to everybody out there - USE A DIFFERENTY COMPANY!!!! Freeparking are good at taking your money, but bad at delivering the product!

Symptoms of being female

Thursday, April 1st, 2004 | Bad Days | No Comments

PMS is a bitch.

Last night I cried til my head was hollow and my heart was numb.
This morning, I feel like all the odds are stacked against me.

Monday Bloody Morning

Monday, March 1st, 2004 | Bad Days | 1 Comment

I spent a lot of yesterday in tears, sobbing my little heart out til my head ran out of tears and snot. The crying then became dry, and the sobs became more like hiccups. Finally, the hiccups softened into sighs, and misery turned into resignation.

It was Sunday night - Time to leave Beloved, time to put my life on pause, time to go back to that constant irritation; Reality.

Every time I looked at him, I realised that I wouldn’t be able to look at him tomorrow. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the casual body contact, or the easy intimacy that we shared. I wouldn’t be able to reach out and squeeze his hand. I wouldn’t be able to feel his arms holding me close. Yeah, I know all this sounds sappy and unbecoming of a geek-girl, but every time I have to leave him, it feels like I’m dead inside.

I miss him so much that I’m starting to resent my job. I’m starting to look at everything that’s keeping me in London with such hostility that I dont know why I’m even here. I’ve got to watch my mouth, keep a leash on my tongue so that I dont lash out and burn all my bridges and mix all my metaphors. I’m learning that London means leaving Beloved. London, despite the population of 2600million people, means loneliness.

I miss him already.