But, before I get into that, there�s the small matter of the giant Frisbee and its related comments. Yes, it IS a giant Frisbee, but I think I should explain that its not a regular Frisbee (made of hard plastic, specially designed to break every fingernail you have it you catch it wrong, able to knock out even the most resilient of teeth etc etc) but is a cloth Frisbee with a padded polystyrene edge to it. This means that it is very very light and tends to float and glide rather than streak through the air like some scary orange ninja weapon (which Im sure has a proper name. And that proper name isn�t Nantucket which is the only word I can think of right now). Being very floaty light, if it glides its way gently into�.ummmm�.say a shitload of brambles, it doesn�t have the necessary weight to work its way down to the ground. Just thought Id clarify.
Tim also suggested that our giant Frisbee looked like Button Moon, which had me singing the bloody theme tune for days, so thanks for that, Tim. Just in case you aren�t familiar with the Zombie Hangover From Hell mindfuck that is Button Moon, here, in all its televisual goodness is an episode just for you. Prepare to marvel at the cutting edge special effects and incisive narrative, folks.
For those of you who have been wondering, and those who have already applied for his job (!), Slaveboy is still gainfully employed as, severally, my assistant, the butt of my jokes and the maker of my coffee. Troy did the business with the flaying but she did show me, once again, why she is a company director and I am still bumbling around in middle management with a dazed look on my face. Man, she�s goooooood! It was the nicest, most friendly, non-confrontational flaying Ive ever seen. Don�t get me wrong, Slaveboy�s instant and long-lasting full-body blush, hand-flapping and defensive whining were all sure signs that he knew he was being flayed but she just did it so NICELY. Afterwards I expressed due amounts of awe and she told me she will show me how to do it too, which Im sure will be a nice change for my subordinates who are more used to the Eyebrow of Doom and venomous diatribe (voice carefully dropped by half an octave to give me a bit of gravitas � also the only way to stop the rest of the office hearing when Im giving someone a roasting). Slaveboy didn�t speak to me for the rest of the day but was OK again on Monday and has finally booked his place on the Excel course that he needs to do to stop me killing him to help with the stats reporting he needs to keep up to date.
I had a business trip to Glasgow scheduled in for this week. I flew up on Tuesday lunchtime and our Scottish area rep picked me up and gave me a little tour on the way to the hotel. It was a nice bright sunny day so he said he�d drive me over to Loch Lomond for a look at the scenery. Just as we got to the visitor centre car park, the heavens opened. It rained so hard that we couldn�t actually see anything further away than the car windscreen. We didn�t even get out and go for the coffee and cake we�d planned. We just turned around and went back to the hotel.
Oh! WHAT a hotel! Its just LOVELY!! Next time you are in Glasgow, I DEMAND that you stay there. The service is unobtrusive, polite and effortless, the food sublime. I dined on filo parcel of haggis, potato and turnip in a creamy whisky sauce and then roast cod with smoked bacon, wilted spinach and yellow pepper cream. I took a shower in my all-marble bathroom and looked out of the ten foot high windows at a view of distant hills. Then I got into a bed so big that I could lie across it without my feet hanging over the edge.
No giant hairy musician, taking up half the space, snoring, farting, scratching his nuts, huffing beer-breath over me, coughing and wheezing through the night like a rusty old pair of bellows. It was as quiet and lonely as a tomb.
I couldn�t sleep.
Next morning I breakfasted on smoked salmon (three huge slices, crusted with herbs) and creamy scrambled egg, toast, coffee and fruit juice and went off to the seminar we were hosting. The actual presentations were given by one of the most talented designers in our field and by two Trade Association presenters who talked for most of the morning about how the delegates could get more out of their businesses. It was an interesting seminar and I think my clients learned plenty, but I could sense they were all waiting for the afternoon�s designer demonstrations, which is where they pick up the little �insider tips� which can turn a regular sale into a �WOW� moneymaker.
Halfway through the morning there was a discrete cough behind my ear and the young banqueting manager had come to tell me that they had received no instruction as to what they should be serving us for lunch. I panicked slightly as I hadn�t organized the seminar so didn�t know what should have been ordered but he told me not to worry and said he would provide a �wee finger buffet�.
An hour later, utterly silently and without me noticing it had even arrived, a really lovely hot and cold buffet magicked its way into the anteroom. Hot savories of every kind, a dozen sorts of sandwiches, sauces for dipping and decent china plates.
Stuffed with onion bhajis, cream cheese pastries, bacon and mushroom tartlets and a thousand sandwiches (one of which turned out to be cheese and SALAD CREAM! Unexpected�but delicious!) I settled myself near the front of the stage to watch the demonstration. The designer pieces were typically lovely � we use that designer a lot for our own company products and I know his work. I obviously know it even better than I thought as, halfway through the demonstrations the delegates were invited to guess the retail worth of the piece being made.
The two trade association guys had already been digging at me for most of the day � they�re self-important tossers, the pair of them, and me being the only �girlie� at the seminar meant that I was constantly the target of snidey put-downs and attempts to make me look thick � and they thought it would be funny if I guessed the value too as I was the only �non-professional� in the room. It backfired slightly when I was the only person in the room to guess the right price. I didn�t think it necessary to mention that the designer had made an almost identical piece for me, back at the office, during the last corporate photoshoot and I�d taken it home and had it in my sitting room for a week afterwards. Hell, I could have made that (and priced it) better than anyone in the room if there�d been TWICE as many delegates. The designer is also a friend of mine � Ive got drunk with him (and his fabulously camp and indiscreet gossip of a partner) on several occasions, most recently at Tatton Park in July, but the TA guys don�t need to know that either and the designer didn�t let me down by confessing.
At one point, he filled one of the creations he had made with a bright purple liquid. Stood on a twinkling light platform, the effect was stunning. �What have you used to get that colour?� shouted a voice from the audience. It went quiet and all the biros in the room poised themselves over all the notebooks, ready to capture the formula for this violet nectar. �Ribena.� said the designer. And then he took a swig, to prove it was.
At the end of the afternoon, we raffled the designer pieces and the delegates got to take them home with them. I was going on the plane so I couldn�t really take anything. Boo. I would have felt much worse if I didn�t already know the dates for the next photoshoot, at which I will be able to blag armfuls of stuff without having to ask!
Glasgow airport appears to be undergoing something of a refit. Either that or its even more of a shithole than the other regional airports Ive been in recently. I sipped a glass of watery coke in Frankie and Benny�s, and waited for my flight to be called. The smell of dirty chip fat wafted on the night air. Eventually the departures board told me that I could go through to the departure lounge only to change to say �DELAYED� just as I got past the security point-of-no-return. For two and a half hours I sat on a molded plastic chair in a freezing cold cavern of a �lounge� with ab-so-flipping-nothing to do. The TA guys were on my flight too. We stared at each other blankly. For a long long time. I phoned home and Jooj told me that L hadn�t made them any dinner yet. I explained to Jooj how to cook frozen fish and chips. She took written notes over the phone. I made a mental note to kick L�s head in when I got back.
I�d had to get a cash advance to go on this trip, mostly out of bloody-mindedness because Twat Inc refuses to give me a company credit card. They say I can claim back any money I spend. That would be fine, except sometime I have to spend hundreds of pounds. Even that would be fine if we got our expenses back immediately but we have to wait until the middle of the following month and, to be honest, I cant do without so much as a tenner of my wages if Im not going to get it back for five or six weeks. They�d deigned to give me 50 quid. Id spent �26 to have my luggage checked in (Id had to take a load of products with me in my suitcase, otherwise I usually travel light enough to have �hand-baggage only�) and �17 on a taxi to the airport. That left �7 to get the taxi back from Chigley airport to my house. It also meant that I had no money to buy dinner while I waited for my delayed flight.
I finally got home close to midnight last night. L had made me a ham sandwich. Bless him.
Absolutely knackered at work today. Troy sent me home at lunchtime. I said Id have a sleep but instead Jooj and I made a moussaka � she�s starting to get the hang of this cooking lark. Then I went and picked Treac up from school and we went for a walk over to the shops. I was teaching for a while this evening and now Im doing this. In a minute I�ll go do the packed lunches for tomorrow, empty the dishwasher and re-load it and do some laundry.
I�ll sleep when Im dead.