Happy Birthday to me!

Well, I made it. Twenty-two years old as of 7:13 this morning. How am I treating myself, you ask? I am in good old London town, ensconced in the Twickenham Marriot and ready to toodle across the city to Shakespeare’s Globe to see The Tempest.

I am excited for several reasons! Firstly, I am a big fan of the Theatre (all forms of drama really) and did once harbour dreams of being an actress. Secondly, I am really big lover of Shakespeare; say what you will of him, but the man had a gift with language and devious plots! Lastly, I am really super thrilled to see an actor I particularly admire, Colin Morgan, in the flesh as he reprises the role of Ariel, the whimsical sprite!

So, here’s to some old ‘culture’ (innit)!

On a slightly different note, this strip was published on Dilbert today, and sums me up perfectly (just swap wife for husband)… ironic that it was published on my birthday!



People are just plain silly.

Because they are, aren’t they? Except for me of course, in my all knowing perfection. Yeh…

I’m sure there are thousands of blog posts out there ruminating on this very subject, and perhaps I should wait until I have more of an ‘online presence’ before I talk about it… but I fancy writing about it now.

I work in a hotel (as a stop gap…. and I tell myself that everyday) and it is, without an iota of exaggeration, a terrible job.

I’m a Room Attendant (which, as the name would suggest, means I prepare and clean the rooms) and I encounter all sorts of interesting examples of human stupidity on a daily – no, hourly – basis. This can come from many sources; my work colleagues, the guests… but, most commonly, the management.

Dear Lord above, the Management. Now there’s a blogpost all on it’s own!

Now, I don’t consider myself to be a genius by any stretch of the imagination. I am, at best, of average intelligence. I would probably be described in the modern world as ‘bright’, but not especially academic – my talents have always inclined towards English, and I struggle heroically with maths and science.

BUT, either I have astonishing levels of practical sense, or the majority of people are incredibly dimwitted.

Now, I tend to view life in pretty simplistic terms, which is not to say I see everything in black and white – in fact, I’d say that most of life is in varying shades of technicolour. But that’s not to say that we have to complicate life. And yet, the management (certianly at my place of work) seem to actively strive to complicate matters. If there is a simple and efficient method for something, I can predict with unfailing accuracy that that method will be scrapped and a new, mindblowing system will take it’s place.

But why? I mean, not to sound like a whingy child, but I just don’t get it! Have these people never heard of, ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’? Or even, ‘less is more’?
I’m not lazy (it’s one of my few virtues!) but I also don’t see the point of making pointless work for yourself. Or, even worse, for other people!

So, that’s the management. Then you have the guests…

Guest: “Excuse me, cleaner lady?”

Me: (Resisting the urge to squirt chemical cleaner in her face) Yes Ma’am? How can I help you?

G: There’s no hairdryer in my room, I’ve checked everywhere. You must have forgotten to put one in.

Me: (trying to maintain a pleasant smile) I’d be very happy to check for you, I definitely made sure there was one in there when I serviced the room prior to your arrival.

G: I’ve told you, I’ve looked everywhere. I want one as soon as possible, this just won’t do.

And so, gritting my teeth, off I went and got her one. And, sure enough, when she departed the next day and I serviced the room… there was the original hairdryer, in the wardrobe, where I knew I had put it.


My absolute favourite, was a woman who said “You must be working the summer between semesters as University, are you?”following our brief discussion on the events occurring in Syria, and when I explained that no, I wasn’t at uni, nor had I been, she looked dissapointed and muttered ‘the youth of today, such waste!’.

I wasn’t offended, per se, but annoyed by her judgemental attitude. Unbeknown to her, I’m waiting to pass my Medical for the Army, so I’m hardly wasting my life… but so what if I was happy to work in a hotel for the rest of my life? Would it matter? Somebody has to do it after all.

Anyway, this turned into a bit of a rant, and it wasn’t really supposed to, but now that I’ve expended all that effort typing it, I’m not going to delete it! I hope that somebody reads this, and feels that wonderful momentary relief of “Yes, it’s not just me this crap happens to!”

Until my next blog, bloggers. And remember… people are just plain silly. 🙂

I’m really terrible at commitment!

No, I really am! I couldn’t even commit to keeping a blog regularly updated. I mean, two posts in 2011 and nothing since is a pretty abysmal effort by anybody’s standards.

I should like to say that it’s because my life took such a dramatic turn of course, and that finding time to write anything – nevermind post it – was impossible. To an extent, that’s almost true, in a pretty loose sense, because there have been a few sizable changes in my life since 2011. However, nothing exciting enough to warrant abandoning my blogging endeavour before it had even started.

Plus, I think it’s disconcerting to write to nobody. I don’t have a ‘readership’ or an ‘audience’ yet (or, ever?) and it’s like attending one of those god-awful New Years Eve parties your friend blackmailed you into going to, only for for them to bugger off and leave you awkwardly sipping your drink in a quiet corner, contemplating the likelyhood of social suicide if you strike up conversation with the wrong person and your rather unique brand of humour falls flat.

This isn’t quite so daunting I suppose, because I don’t have to witness the raised eyebrow and disdainful sniff you might give my blogpost if you happen to stumble across it. But it’s the thought of it! If I were to embody one of the Seven Sins, I’d probably be Pride… the thought of my earnest ramblings being met with anything other than amusement and appreciation irks me.

I probably shouldn’t attempt to persue a career as a professiona writer, I’d be terribe at dealings with the critics…

So, I think that will be all from me this evening. I’m going to make a decent effort at updating this blog regularly, because I don’t like failing at things, and giving up on this so early on felt like full out failure to me.

If, by some wrong turn, you stumble across this post, and think that you might like to read more of my insensible ramblings in the future, then here are the kind of topics you can feasibly expect me to make comment on:

– Anything horse related (89% of my life is horse related)

                – In connection with the above, anything animal oriented is a good bet

– Literature! I am a mahoosive bookworm, and read across a wide, wide range of genres. Whilst positive reviews are a good possibility, frothy-mouthed rants about terrible plots and 2D characters are just as likely

– People. Yes, people fascinate me. Mostly, I’ll admit, with their stupidity, but also with other, more admirable, traits

I’m sure there will be other things, but these are probably my main thinking points. If you think you could slog your way through a few hundred words on any of those topics and still be smiling at the end of it, then I hope to see you back! Or for the first time.

Is anybody reading this? Hello?!

Nevermind, it’s Jack Daniel’s-O’Clock anyway!

The Window Cleaner Conundrum

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I dread the Window Cleaner day. When I was a little girl, we used to have our windows cleaned every two weeks. Now, I’m sure the guy was lovely, but I’ve ever had a suspicious mind and I used to doggedly follow him around, sitting broodingly at the bottom of the ladder and waiting for him to commit some kind of travesty. My commitment to this was absolute; regardless of rain or wind or hail, I was quite determined to be a deterring force again the potential mischief of the window cleaner.

Now, I don’t know what my sub-conscience has against these good people, but the inherent suspicion has never really faded. I’ve gone years without having a window cleaner visit the various places I’ve lived. However, this has changed. With my current job I have a live in position, which by its very nature comes with many pros and cons. One of the cons is that they have a regular window cleaner. But, he doesn’t have a schedule. The horror! I can’t even plan to not be around, because he appears without warning! Take today, for example. My boss and his partner had gone food shopping, so I knew I had a good few hours to myself in the house. The sun’s shining outside, I’ve spent all morning working out in the sunshine, and now I’m ready for a relaxing dinner break before I do anything else this afternoon. I’m slouched out in the kitchen, halfheartedly making a cup of tea and something to eat, when Boom! the ladder gets slapped up next to the window and the window cleaner guy appears on the other side, peering through the glass before waving enthusiastically (“Alright luv!?”) and proceeding to lather up the windows.

Well, is it just me, or is this a tad awkward? He’s quite evidently watching me make my sandwich, and I don’t know where to put my face. Every time I glance up he smiles benignly through the window at me. Go away! I don’t want your smiles! I want my peace and quiet! And then, just to really top it off, he ascends the ladder and I come to the awful realisation that he’s cleaning my bedroom window. And my bedroom is a tip. There is underwear scattered everywhere. Oh dear me.

By the time he has left, my boss has returned from food shopping. Will this day never end!?

And this, I mutter darkly – and somewhat to the confusion of my boss – is why I hate Window Cleaner day.

Autumn Skies, and hello.

Autumn Skies

There’s something magical about Autumn. I love all the seasons differently, they all offer a little something that the others don’t. But, Autumn… well, it truly takes the proverbial biscuit. Does anything truly eclipse the delight of the crisp early mornings, the satisfying crunch of fallen leaves beneath your boots? The thrilling smell of woodsmoke from one of countless small bonfires, reminding you that Bonfire Night is not that far around the corner.

For me, nothing beats an early morning ride out on my (reluctantly) faithful steed. Except, perhaps, a late evening jaunt out where photos such as the above are taken with no photographic flair or skill.

No, you can keep your cosy nights in before the fire. You’ll find me curled up in my girls stable, breathing in the scent of hay, straw and the inexplicable smell of horse that manages to be both subtle and overpowering. And if I can’t be found there… well, I’ll be in the saddle of course, experiencing Autumn close up and personal.

Hello, by the way, this is my first ‘blog’. Terribly nice to meet you.