Wednesday, December 31, 2003

Bullet blog...

Well, my lovely BF arrived on Monday night - whilst waiting for him at the station there were millions of cretins around. I then realised that there was a big match at St Mary's which explained their presence. Anyway, after the inevitable snogging, we settled down to watch "Jay and Silent Bob strike back" - being a fan of Kevin Smith, it seemed inevitable that I would watch it eventually, though I nearly boycotted it because it looked too "Hollywood". It was nice to see Randall and Dante and the Quick Stop grocery store in colour! It was a very silly film with large doses of schoolboy humour (making the BF guffaw with laughter) but managed to retain the clever dialogues for which Kevin Smith is reknowned.

I've applied for the Wimbledon public ballot! I'm well excited, man! I'm too old to do the old "queueing overnight" gambit, so thought I'd go for the civilised, if a little expensive, option. Probably won't get any tickets though - will have to join my tennis club again to get another chance as they have a Wimbledon ticket draw as well...

I've worked out the problem with my MP3 player, and there is no problem with it. The problem lies with my PC USB port. I installed the software on BF's laptop and connected it and it worked fine. I suspected as much. Sorry Amazon, I sent you back an MP3 player in perfect working order... d'oh!

My mission for today, should I choose to accept it, is to:

That's about it


Monday, December 29, 2003

Chrimbo - the not-very-well-edited highlights

Well, I'm back in Southampton for the next few days, getting ready for my move up to London. No work for me until next Monday, when I shall burst into my firm's London office and screech "It's okay, Witho's here" into the waiting ears of my new colleagues. Or alternatively, I shall walk meekly into the office, say "Hello, I'm Witho, I believe you've been expecting me" and be stared at for a bit - but mostly ignored - by my new colleagues...

Anyway, I suppose I should relay some of the events of the last week or so

19th December was my last day at the Southampton Office. I ended up sending an e-mail round to the whole department, probably in direct contravention of my Manager's wishes, but I wanted people to know that I was going and that I would miss my Southampton-based interactions - which I will! I got a lot of good wishes in response to my mail, and my line manager came rushing up and gave me a card signed by my "team". I was starting to blub as I walked out of those revolving doors for the last time. The BF was waiting for me outside to give me a big hug, which only served to make the tears flow more readily - you know how it is when you're feeling a bit teary and someone's nice to you which makes you even more teary and then they're even nicer to you because you're all teary and then you're in the crying cycle and you can't stop? Well, it was kind of like that... but I just about held it together and we walked home together...

I think I'm right in saying that we saw "The Return of the King" that night. It was nice that the film finally reached a satisfactory conclusion, but my buttocks were not happy after that 3 hour stint. It reminded me of the days when I used to ride pillion on my evil French ex's motorbike. After a couple of hours on the bike, all you can think about is the pain in your buttocks... no amount of shuffling about at red traffic lights can make any difference, it just becomes pure agony...

Anyway, here's the rest of Christmas handily condensed into some neat bullet points:

I'm just off to paint my toenails
My moblog is playing up at the moment - poxy thing


Saturday, December 20, 2003

It's oh so quiet...

Right, you won't hear from me for a while as the Christmas holidays have commenced and I'll be around and about in the following places (in the following order):

And that will take me up to just after New Year. Not sure when I'll be able to blog. Might send pics to the moblog, but it's not working very well at the moment... gah!

To (all) my loyal reader(s), have a wonderful holiday season, and look forward to catching up with you!

Love Witho

Friday, December 19, 2003

Today is my last day in this office...

... and no-one seems to care.

I've felt as if I'm not allowed to advertise my move to the London office - my manager's been really quite cagey about it and I feel he might be annoyed if I announce it to everyone. So instead I'll just pack up my desk, sneak off quietly at the end of today and see if anyone actually notices... Not really a fitting end to over five years, but by the same token, I don't want one of those embarrassing presentations either, given by a manager who barely knows me, despite being my manager for most of the five years...

It's all making me a bit wistful. I suppose we all like to think that we've made a mark somewhere, but I feel like I'm being swept under the carpet.

... while another era ends...

... coopblog is no more. Elsie, you were the inspiration for mine and many other blogs. Hope to see you occasionally in a comments box or maybe in another reincarnation. Take care, respeck girlfriend...

And yes, I know the comments aren't working this morning before you all start 'avin' a go!
UPDATE: Comments now "working" (as well as they ever do... *sigh*)

Thursday, December 18, 2003

A new era....

WARNING: This post contains slush. If you are feeling slightly nauseous, do not attempt to read...

It's the last day of term at the Big Fella's school. After he's despatched the kids, had a Christmas lunch with the staff (with all that that entails) and gone home to his bachelor pad (as it will be for the last time), he will finish packing his suitcase. He'll get on a train (well, two trains actually - or maybe a train, a bus and a train, who knows what delights "Network Rail" could have in store for him?) and arrive at Southampton Central station some time this evening. Witho will be waiting just beyond the ticket barriers by Platform 4, quivering slightly, probably wearing her silly pink trainers and brandishing her "cat" bag.

For today is the first day of a new régime. A régime where being apart will become the exception rather than the rule. A régime where Witho and the Big Fella can wake up at each other's side every day and thank their lucky stars that they found each other.

Okay, so we've got the madness which is Christmas to contend with first, but once the tinsel has been put away for another year, and the Turkey carcass stripped of its last strand of flesh, Witho and the Big Fella can start to be "normal". Happiness can be spread across the whole week, not just concentrated into the oh-so-short but oh-so-eagerly-awaited weekends. The tear-ridden Sunday night farewells will become a thing of the past, as will the train station reunions, the nightly 2 hour phone calls, the gaping void on "that" side of the bed...

Old moon fades into the new
Soon I know I'll be back with you
I'm nearly with you
I'm nearly with you...

Destiny - Zero 7

Wednesday, December 17, 2003


I'm lacking in inspiration for my blog at the moment. I think it's because when I started reading other blogs and thinking that I wanted one, I was a singleton, at war with the world, and could identify with some of the more angst-ridden blogs out there. I felt that if I had a blog, I would have a lot to say on a regular basis...

As it turned out, I started the blog when I'd already stopped being single and started being at peace with the cruel world which, until then, had denied me happiness for so long (not that I'd want to be melodramatic or anything...).

Which leads on to the inevitable question - why do I blog?

A number of reasons spring to mind, but all of them are problematic:

I just sometimes wonder what it's all for. The main effect blogging has had on my life is to make me even less productive at work and feel more guilty for being less productive. It's not as if the things I blog about are things that I don't discuss with anyone else. In fact, most - if not all - of my posts are things that I've discussed (either before or after posting) with the Big Fella. We talk about *absolutely* everything, so it's not as if I need another "outlet"...

I read a thing about blogging via Pinky's blog (can't be bothered to put a link in right now) which said that Bloggers cannot claim to be blogging for themselves and in a way I can see what he means. If you were doing it just for yourself, why not just type it all in a Word Document stored on your own PC, or hand write it in a diary (an innovative idea Witho - oh, hang on, people have been doing that for years). Why do I feel the need to publish it in this public yet strangely anonymous forum? (Well, I am strangely anonymous, as are the "characters" who feature in my blog, though I realise that not everyone is as cagey about it...)

I'm just confused about why I do it, frustrated at my need for approval and the time that I spend blogging. But I don't expect it will stop me....

Monday, December 15, 2003

Christmas Curry antics...

If you can't see this, it's because textamerica is broken!
Don't come complaining to me...

Now reading....

.... "What Color [sic] is your Parachute" by Richard Bolles, which tells me that a "Life-changing job hunt" typically has an 86% success rate which, when compared with other job-hunting methods (e.g. Internet, having just 7%) seems pretty impressive. Though I suspect that the life-changers *he's* talking about do actually know what job they are hunting for... unlike m'good self...

Better read more to find out....

Friday, December 12, 2003

Lunchtime is for... er... lunch!

I have long maintained that, in the world of 9-5 office work, lunchtimes are sacred and should be used for eating lunch, catching up with friends and generally chilling and forgetting about work for an hour. I have long bemoaned the lunchtime excuses of colleagues, who claim to have "chores" to attend to. I would think to myself "how come I don't have any chores to attend to?". Not that I was jealous of their so-called chores, I just wondered why people didn't do these chores at other times - e.g. the weekend - thus freeing themselves up for a relaxing lunch hour.

I'm starting to realise. Now that I have a life (i.e. the Big Fella), I'm finding myself devoting my weekends to BF-based activities, leaving me no time for things like:

so recently I've found myself going against my own principles; joining the lunchtime throng of faceless drones, being pulled into the surging mass of peopledom through malls, up escalators, in and out of brightly lit shops. I must say, I'm not happy with this development. I find myself drained and almost giddy with exhaustion after these lunchtime forays. TK Maxx is just not "do-able" in one hour - three is the average for me (and no, I'm probably *not* joking!). Sports Soccer is a shambles at the best of times - but lunchtimes are utterly hopeless. H&M is similar to TK Maxx in its requirement for "rummaging" time, whilst Cinnabons just taste better at weekends... or something...

Anyway, the upshot is that, particularly with Christmas fast approaching and all the extra chores that entails, I have been spending far too many lunch hours scuttling around town and not enjoying what should be my "break" from the tediousness and despair of my job.

There just aren't enough hours in the day *sigh*

Anyway, last night's Christmas curry was a pretty sedate affair for a change. I *did* wear the boob tube, though felt *extremely* self conscious and at first refused to take my pashmina off! I do have photographic evidence though, which may feature on here over the next few days if I feel brave...

Now, excuse me while I go off and panic about Christmas present buying...

Thursday, December 11, 2003

Let's get ready to rumble!

For tonight's Christmas curry, I'm thinking that multiple hair streaks, boob tube, pointy boots and facial glitter might just be the order of the day....

Love is....

... giving your girlfriend a container of coins to store in her car so that never again will she be a victim of errant P&DMs*...

Big Fella, you're a star, happy anniversary babe! (We're still on monthly anniversaries at the moment, like with babies, you start off describing their age in weeks, then months, then years)

In other news:

Despite not posting yesterday, I still managed to waste most of the day. I seem to have got myself into a worrying routine at work. I'm not a fan of routines, I think they deaden one's life experience. Here's the fascinating world of my typical day at work:

I need to break this cycle, but not sure how. Maybe the move to the London office will be an opportunity to implement a new régime. We'll see...

Today, I are be mostly....

... wearing a fake blue streak in my hair

Tonight, I are be mostly....

... attending the departmental Christmas Curry!

*Pay and Display Machine - see post of Monday 1st December for details

Tuesday, December 09, 2003

Shopping antics

Yesterday, went shopping for a winter coat. Came away with a silk, zebra stripe boob tube. Obviously!

Today, went shopping for Christmas presents for others. Came away with 2 new hair streaks for me, one blue, one purple and a cinnabon. Obviously!

Although to be fair, today I did manage to get something for my sister and something for the BF (which I shall not reveal as his prying eyes may land upon these innocent words...)

Trying not to blog (by blog I mean both "post to my blog" and "read others' blogs") at the moment, due to guilt. Clearly failing...


Monday, December 08, 2003


"The KP&M world record was smashed this weekend, as Witho spent an unprecedented £5.18 on loose sweets at Woolie Woofters. Witho said "I couldn't have done it without the Big Fella's contribution of two enormous jelly sweets in the shape of monster flies". The Big Fella's mouth was too full of KP&M to comment...."

Yes, readers, on our way back home from playing tennis, we stopped off at Woolie Woofters and let's just say things got a bit out of hand (out of the hand, into the pick 'n' mix bag!). The Big Fella even started putting "adult" pick 'n' mix items into the bag! I mean, what kind of crazy world are we living in, where things like this are allowed to happen?

Other weekend activities:

Also made the Big Fella watch another of my favourite films, Clerks and he was lovin' it, as I knew he would.

Right, I'm off to check out various blogs to find out what happened on Saturday at Billy's Jeans... catch ya later!

Friday, December 05, 2003

Witho goes to London!

My transfer to the London office has all been confirmed by HR. I'll start on 5th January. God, it will be weird commuting into the city - haven't done that in a long time, and then I was commuting to university, so it wasn't an every day, nine-to-five thing (we only had about 12 hours of classes per week, and none at all on Fridays!). So this could come as quite a shock to the system. I've been spoilt down here - walking to work every day. The voices: "Come on Witho, it's not every day is it, what about when it's raining, or when you've been for a run, or when you're running late, or when your moon is in Uranus, or when you're just being f**king lazy...." Okay, okay, these days I often take the bus, is that a crime? The voices: "Probably not... just wanted to wind you up..."

Anyway, as I was saying, when I was rudely interrupted! The voices: "Sorry Witho, carry on... " I will have to join the throng of city commuters, armed only with my not-so-trusty MP3 player (still haven't worked out what's wrong with it, still suspect the USB port on my PC, but can't prove it as don't have any other devices to try....) and the blank expression of a London commuter.

As a Londoner myself, I often get annoyed when people accuse "Londoners" of being unfriendly. Most of those unfriendly people are not Londoners at all. They may *live* in London now, but they were probably born in Surrey, or somewhere posh. The real Londoners probably aren't in Central London anyway, they're hanging around in their "boroughs", going about their daily business like anyone from anywhere else in the country. My friend always gets annoyed with "Londoners" who buy second homes in the countryside and push prices up in these areas. Again, I would argue that these people are probably not Londoners - yes, they live and work in London, but that's all...

Which reminds me of one of my favourite jokes - it's really a joke to hear rather than read, but see what this does for you:

Knock Knock
Who's there?
M.A.B. it's a big horse
M.A.B. it's a big horse, who?
*singing* M.A.B. it's a big horse I'm a Londoner, that I love London so....

You have to be there to appreciate it...

I suppose I just get annoyed when people try to judge others based on geography. We can't really help where we're born, let us just be individuals.

Oh, I dunno...

*crawls back under stone*

Thursday, December 04, 2003

Another blog to make me feel inadequate about mine...

Just stumbled across Bakerina and had to link to her because she mentioned one of my favourite films, "Say Anything", featuring my favourite actor, John Cusack. There's a scene in that film where John's character, Lloyd, holds aloft a ghetto-blaster playing "In your eyes" by Peter Gabriel outside the bedroom window of the girl who just tried to dump him. Makes me cry every time....

*pauses to think about John Cusack for a while*

Note to self: get "Say Anything" on DVD...

Wednesday, December 03, 2003

What colour are you?

Oh dear, I don't think Blue Witch is going to like this:

you are mediumslateblue

Your dominant hue is blue, making you a good friend who people love and trust. You're good in social situations and want to fit in. Just be careful not to compromise who you are to make them happy.

Your saturation level is medium - You're not the most decisive go-getter, but you can get a job done when it's required of you. You probably don't think the world can change for you and don't want to spend too much effort trying to force it.

Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.
the spacefem.com html color quiz

Though if it's any consolation, being "mediumslateblue" seems to equate to being "dullasditchwater" so I wouldn't recommend it to anyone....

Pick 'n' mix news

I have long been a fan of Woolworth's (or "Woolie Woofters" as I call them) Kids Pick 'n' Mix (hereinafter referred to as KP&M). The white chocolate mice, the candy shrimps, the jelly babies, those little ice-cream-cone shaped creamy things, mmmmm. Okay, it may be the most expensive way to buy sweets in Christendom, but that doesn't seem to deter me....

Anyway, over the weekend, I was in Superdrug with the Big Fella and he pointed out their Pick 'n' Mix display, knowing I was a fan of the "loose sweet" culture. Whilst at first I rejected the very idea, my blinkered mind thinking: "not Woolie Woofters, does not compute", I was soon drawn to the pretty colours and shapes like a moth to a flame, and found myself, bag in one hand, scoop in the other, facing this array of marvels.

I was impressed by the sheer variety of sweets available. As well as the standard-issue sweets one comes to expect (the aforementioned white mice and jelly babies), there were a number of previously unknown confectionery products which certainly captured my imagination. I spent over three pounds (yes readers, three pounds!) on a bag of these wonders. My enthusiasm was not dampened on consumption - they "ate" very well indeed and had the desired effect of making one feel ever so slightly nauseous.

Monday, December 01, 2003

Le weekend

(Second attempt at this, Blogger blew up the first time I tried to post it - thanks!)

Highlights were:

Low points:

Picture the scene.
A station car park, in SE London, in the rain

Witho: Dear Pay and Display ticket machine [hereinafter referred to as "P&DM" - you can tell I had to type this once before can't you?], please provide the cost of an all-day stay at your wondrous establishment for my humble automobile, love Witho
P&DM: Dear Witho, the cost of the stay you require will be two of your Earth pounds and sixty of your Earth pence, love P&DM
Witho (rummaging in purse): Dear P&DM, whilst I *do* have this amount of money within my pursular confines, I note that you only accept certain denominations of coinage, which means that I am exactly ten of your Earth pence short, love Witho
P&DM: Dear Witho, that's not really my problem is it? love P&DM

*accepts that she has a problem, starts rummaging in car for those stray coins which always appear when you're vacuuming the car, but when you need ten poxy pence for a ticket machine, suddenly decide they're going to hibernate for the winter*

Big Fella emerges from the train ticket office. Witho beckons him over

Witho: Dear BF, please provide ten of your Earth pence, lots of love, Witho [note BF gets lots of love, whilst everyone else just gets love - bless...]
BF: Dear Witho, I cannot meet your coinular requirements on this occasion, love BF


Another car park patron arrives on the scene and approaches P&DM

Witho: Dear car park patron, please provide ten of your Earth pence in a denomination no smaller than a "ten-of-your-Earth-pence" piece. Here is ten of your Earth pence in smaller denominations which I shall provide by means of an exchange. Love Witho
Car Park Patron: Dear Witho, please accept a twenty-of-your-Earth-pence coin, which is the smallest denomination I have which may meet your requirements, love Car Park Patron
Witho: Dear Car park patron, please accept my sincerest thanks, love Witho *sigh of relief*

Car park patron leaves the scene, running to catch the train which Witho and BF are also hoping to catch

Witho: Dear P&DM, please accept the following in settlement of the purchase of an all-day parking ticket - two of your Earth pounds and seventy of your Earth pence, this being an overpayment of the amount due. Love Witho
P&DM: Dear Witho, please accept the following: all your money spewed out again and no parking ticket. You have overpaid and this is simply not acceptable. Love P&DM.

Train rumbles onto station platform, accepts passengers into its midst, and rumbles off to its destination, Witho-and-BF-less...

Oh, the anger, the hatred. Words cannot describe it. Have you ever come across a P&DM which won't accept an overpayment? Because I haven't....


Which brand of consumer are you?

I've always been difficult to pigeonhole, as the results of this quiz clearly show....

Subtle shopper

You believe in the good life [okay, you got that bit right, but who would believe in the "bad" life?]. Your cooking is exemplary [hmmm, it's an example of some cooking - does that make it exemplary?], prepared in a hi-tech kitchen stuffed with Smeg, Alessi and Phillippe Starck appliances [I wish! - you haven't seen my kitchen, have you?]. The rest of the house is furnished from Heal's and the Conran shop [or maybe Ikea, hand-me-downs and junk shop finds... a couple of (cheap) things from Habitat]. You love sushi and fine wines [lies, lies, lies], bought from the Tesco Finest range and the local deli [I'll let you get away with that]. You wear Paul Smith, Joseph and Armani, Agnes B and Nicole Farhi [I've got a Nicole Farhi skirt, but it was 25 quid from TK Maxx - does that count?], but with the odd flash of ostentation - a Prada handbag or Jimmy Choo shoes [nope]. Make-up is from Space NK [we don't have that in Southampton]. You drive a Saab or Mercedes [actually, a "gold" Renault Clio - though I prefer to think of it as "metallic mustard"]. You're highly literate [I can read, and I'm tall - does that make me highly literate?], reading Martin Amis, Simon Schama and Margaret Atwood [never read any of these]. And you pay for it all on your charity credit card [switch is my friend - credit cards are dangerous...].

Found on Blue Witch...

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