Saturday, 31 July 2010

The post office and I are just never going to get along

I wonder if you remembered, or even noticed, that a year or two back there was a lot of post office closures. The ones that weren't making much money got closed or scaled back. Anyway, one of the fatalities was the Glasgow High Street post office, which for me was situated conveniently just a few doors up. Let me describe this place. It was a small, basic postoffice. It had a few things for sale including all the packaging/envelopes as well as drinks, snacks and wee travel things like nail clippers etc. It had a passport photo booth, a cash machine and the two post office windows. You would queue up in a straight line, waiting for either of the windows to be free and if you saw something in the shop bit you wanted on the way down you just took it up when you went to the window. I usually bought these cola bottle sweets made by this company, Lady Bird Confectionary. They were great. Anyway, the main thing that was great about the post office was there were two people who always worked there, two men, always quite nice and quick to serve you. Also it was never crazy busy (I guess why it closed which is a shame). I liked this post office. This post office liked me.

So it was closed. I discovered this driving down the street one day to my dismay. The next time I had to post something (ebay probably) I had to go online and search for the next nearest post office. This post office is the Glassford Street post office in Glasgow and it is a whole world away from my cosy village-esque branch. Firstly this one is nearer the city centre so it is busier. It is very very busy infact and it is a small place and its always packed especially at lunch time. It resides right up the back of a newsagent type shop. A few words on the nature of this shop. This isn't a newsagent like you expect. A comparison here serves to illustrate my point. I went to the post office in the West End where my brother lives, the one on Dumbarton Road. Inside I found helpful staff, short waiting times, advice, an orderly queue & pleasant members of the public. This post office was also part of a newsagent. At the west end post office the main product they have on show as you enter is Yankee Candles. At my post office it is Buckfast and obscene brass(esque) models of gay men "embracing" eachother. They also have a heterosexual one and it is even more repellent. The shop is PACKED to the gunnels with stock, most notable being many, many of those hallmark birthday cards with things like "to my favourite brother's wife's best friend's cousin who is 9 today and named joe" and a long soppy and pointless "poem" on the inside spanning 4 seperate pages, thus making it a pamphlet rather than a card. They also sell Tourist items such as magnets with famous London landmarks on them. In glasgow. yes. The most annoying thing about the whole shop is that, while you are waiting in the packed place to get served you do see some things that you want to buy such as all the postage items (string, manilla envelopes and other EXCITING stationary) but there are notices allll over (on those neon coloured stars, obviously) with "pay at shop, not post office" on them. By this point you have already waited for 10 minutes in the queue and will be damned to go to the shop counter at the other end of the place. I've never bought a single thing from that shop.
So, moving on to the post office itself, well actually before you can even see the post office you have to queue in a ridiculously cramped in and out barrier system. Inevitably you are pushed together with the other "people" who use the post office. I guess the people who used to go to the High street branch started using fedx because the people in this one are definately more "big n' pretty" at the trongate than crabtree and evelyn in princes square. If you have ever taken the time (oh yes, there is one thing that is in abundence at the post office) to look at these underclass type people they are either A) obese and wearing the wrong clothes for it, B) gaunt and junkie-ish to the point that they look like corpses or C) very very old and probably humming/whistling some elvis song. Those from Category A are way too big for the barrier system and take the barriers with them as they advance to the front. The Bs usually smell of pish, or BO or shit or eau de pish or something you do not want near you and you are always next to them in the line. The oldies have NO perception of what personal space is and basically have their chins on your shoulders and often like to comment on the thing you are posting. "ohhh! careful with your parcel hen, dont want to knock someone out he he he he".
Anyway here we are we made it through the barrier system and the people and we are at the counter. This is where the long wait becomes obvious seeing as there is never more than 3 people serving, more often its 2 and 1 is always in the bureau de change bit. You realise this bit, which also is used at the post office, has a seperate queue so you could have spend the 25 mins in the queue of death or actually walked straight up to the bureau counter and been like "ehhh £1 worth of euros? oh you cant? well while im here i have this package to post..." This usually causes fights between those in the long and short queues too which is fun. The people serving are awful though. Apart from the bureau guy they are all women, they are all about 50 and they all hate the world and everything in it starting with parcels, stamps and post office customers. NEXT! Asking for something that isn't "ukfirstclassnoproofofpostageexactchangebye" puts them out big style and then their day is ruined. chances are 20 other people already ruined it before you got there so you are screwed from the get go. I have had some success though, you would think I would get more pissed off and snooty the more I get this response. In fact this is the common response, for example, I was in 2 days ago and there was a woman who had to wait 15 minutes in the queue (don't know why she was so pissed, thats decent for the place). Anyway she was standing there with a huffy look on her mug and shifting from one foot to the other, hand on her hip, sharply exhaling every few seconds. "HUUHH". "HUUUUUUH". "HUUUUUUUUUUUH-HUH!". The reason was becuase some silly goose decided to fill out his road tax at our post office and it was taking all 3 members of staff a long time to work out how this was done. Anyway she was served soon enough and she plonks her package on the scale, waits for 2 seconds then grabs it off. "I'm sorry I need to weigh that" says the woman serving. "HUUUUUUH" she goes and whacks it back on. It is posted and the receipt is given; "heres your receipt thanks see you later, bye". As the woman walks past the queuing people on her way out she says "cheeky bitch" in that schemey way. WHO WAS SHE TALKING TO???!?!?! no-one, her own ego, thats who. drama queens at the post office. she must be a really important person. Yea so now instead of being dramatic or pissy I challenge myself to make the women serving smile. I make myself sick. "Heeeeeeyy! Uk first class plleeeease, will i just pop this wee parcel on the scale? ok, on it goes heehee!! Is that it done? Here i'll pass it through... YOUR WELCOME!!!" *grin manic-like*. I swear, it has started to work, the other day one of them said thanks - SCORE!

So thats the post office. I deal with it passive-aggressivley now and i hate the place with every fibre of my being and if I have to go in again I will probably have a breakdown and start pulling the queue barriers down and smash the bureau glass. But maybe I will just remember the 57p of profit I am making on the item I am ebaying and having to make an extra trip to that god forsaken hell hole for as the buyer didnt pay for another day, and I will be happy, and try to make the post office women crack a slight smile. Fingers crossed.

Monday, 26 July 2010

Fashion Victims

I feel that, seeing as I have no friends, it is about time I told it like it is vis-a-vis the ridiculous "trends" that some females subscribe to in failed attempts to be fashionable. I am not blaming these girls as, lets face it, most of them don't have the braincells to actually consider why and where they are getting these awful garments. Indeed I choose to blame the shops; I have been in topshop recently and its one big place filled with a few nice things and all these fur lined, feathered, thongy red herrings putting you off the scent of looking like a person. Regardless of fashion and what designers do, topshop is an idiot for thinking the regular people out there know how to manage their products. I shall expand on a few of my most detested items of late.

Firstly, as it is current, the gladiator sandal. What the hell is this thing? It's like a normal sandal has procreated with five others and the result in human terms would have 7 fingers and an extra ear. I am not against leather, sandals, or multiple straps (in theory) but when people buy items like this the mind boggles. Even the idea behind the whole thing is ridiculous. Gladiator. Yes, I want to look like a GLADIATOR. A slave who has to fight to a bloody death in front of many social betters. And how shall I do this? By mimicing what a movie told me he wore on his feet while partaking in said beatings. GREAT idea guys, hats off.

Now we move on to the second of the three most awful trends I have singled out, UGGS. WHAT THE FUCK ARE THESE FUZZY LUMPS OF SHIT COLOURED MATERIAL? I mean, really these are like your slippers and your wellies bred and, may I ask, would you actually wear either your slippers or your wellies outside on a day to day basis (save collecting the paper or being on a farm/it very wet?) The most awful thing about them is the colour (poo brown of many varients), no the price (in excess of £100 at australian friend told me they used to cost buttons btw, morons).. oh! or the fact that the knock off ones often seem to look marginally better...actually, no i've got it. its the way people think they are waterproof and charge them through muddy puddles and they end up all brown and wet and the boot slips off the heel so the person looks like they have some sort of debilitating limp.
Either way, anyone who wears these should know they look like they stepped in dog shit and it is now engulfing their legs.

Thirdly and finally, my most hated of ALL. Wearing leggings in place of trousers.
I have no idea who this woman is but she outlines the problem exactly as I wanted her to. Leggings are not trousers/jeans. They are leggings. They are barely more coverage than tights, yet somehow it is now ok to go out wearing leggings and a t shirt? WTF?! Also for some girls leggings have become too demure and now they will wear tights as trousers. These girls seem also to think an awful lot of their own arses. Because, indeed, that is all you notice when said fashion item is worn: arses. You know I can see your arse, and your arse crack, and from the front I can see your crotch, when you go out like that? Why does that not bother them.

And there. We are done. People are idiots. I clearly am brilliant (well, at least I dont wear harem pants). And Topshop is the devil, converting sheep to look like mutton dressed like lamb day after day. Good Morning.

Friday, 23 July 2010

"OMG! Love Tumblrbot"

Man, they know exactly how to snare me.

I joined Tumblr yesterday (or was it the day before?) and I have a new time wasting occupation that will have to be carefully monitored come september but keeps me from going out my box while planning a wedding.

I just posted a wee thingo about a strawberry facemask that I made with a picture. I LOVE THIS. Plus there are only like 2 people "following" me (stalkers) so I can say what I want and not give a shit about which exfriends/fashion victims/inlaws are gonna see it (unlike facebook). I tried to get around it on facebook by just posting stuff at like 7am when no one looks and no-one goes back to look at. Ah it was my fault accepting people I don't even like to be friends on facebook. Too many people who I used to go to school with who never even spoke to me then. So I'm not letting this happen to Tumblr (my one, my love, my all) I'm keeping it net people only and the select few who I like. This and Lawrie's MSN revival keeps me thinking I'm still 17.

A few other things to bulk this out:
No matter how much I SCRUB my teeth, especially the backs of the middle two (top and bottom) they never feel clean, what the hell??
The Fiery Furnaces are way better than you and your pals.
I have gotten over my recent anger/dissapointment/bleghness and I am feeling better. Infact I am hoping my stress spots will kindly subside now (hence the scrub).
I'm going to a pre-hen night coven party (me mum and 2 aunties) where we shall be partaking in sherry cocktails (yes I am 80). Then to balance this I hope to go to time capsule swimming (FLOOOMES) next week with Les (yes I am 8).

I love you x

Sunday, 18 July 2010

I'm gonna run run run run run

It is 5 mintues later but I really felt this needed to be a new entry so it will be short but sweet, representing this new turn for me.

As I leave forever the ridiculous attempts of friendship behind I am embarking on a somewhat bigger challenge than I faced in September last year. That was a 6k road race. This year it is the Great Scottish Run 10k race. Ok so it is only 4k more but last year the 6k was my absolute limit, albiet I only trained for a month. For this I will have trained for about 2.5months and I am already hitting 7k in 48 minutes which I am happy with indeed.

Having completed the 6k last year I basically, aside from a few short jogs, did not run from november through to may. That time was spent doing my honours. I took the running back during the latter stages of my final exams and havn't looked back this summer. Despite it being useful to help me climb the hills of the University campus for another year - my masters- and from keeping me from getting to the third trimester of "pie baby" in time for the wedding, I feel I am my best when running. Not actually when running but it compliments my life and those endorphins are good wee buddies to have swimming about. Plus I'm never out of puff climbing stairs :)

So, this 5 weeks into the training and i'll be aiming for 8k by this time next week.

These Things That I've Done

Oh yeah thats right I never did anything.

You go through life trying to be a good person. You make friends and you try to be nice to them. Be supportive, be flexible, be accomodating, be yourself. I have never been anything but loyal. Three times this year that has been taken for granted and I've had my good nature ridden over roughshod.
Anyone who knows me knows that I don't suffer fools. They also know that I do not let people walk over me or people I care about. Why then have I let people abuse me like this?
In the first instance I was too involved too quickly. I thought it was great - what could be more fun than a friend who seems to get you and want to spend time with you? It is a nice feeling to make a new friend in such a quick and seamless way. Smooth sailing. But of course it came all of a sudden that it was self-serving. It hurt me a lot and I was upset and I cried and I could not understand why I would be treated like that. I never received an apology - in fact, the whole painful issue was swept over as though meaningless and that was the most horrible part, as long as i was speaking then my feelings were irrelevant.
So I said I would learn and to an extent I did, inasmuch as I learned for how to make a cushion around me when such happened. I was used completely this time, a passing fancy of a skin deep window shopper. I was taken in completely and emmersed in while it was right, when the window of opportunity remained. Then, suddenly I wasn't quite the scene. I wasn't moving fast enough. What I represent had gone full circle in terms of "coolness" as it does so often while the other fashion victims catch the trend. But then i was not dropped so sudden, I was held as a back up and used as a facilitator until enough new rope had been accumulated and it was safe to jump ship. With this I wasn't bothered. I thought oh well people drift in and out of lives no point trying to pursue it. I thought I wasn't as involved having learnt from before and demanded of myself I would not be hurt by it. And I wasn't. But I was used and I grew angry and as of yet I have not had my way to revenge my feeling on this individual but mark my words it is coming. A metaphorical ticking time bomb exists and be it she is ignoring it or she has forgotten it will approach oh so quickly and she will have to react to me and take exactly what she needs to know in exchange.
The third came of a sudden after a long peaceful time. My best friend, my life long, the one I would never expect to lose. How dare she? how could she be so hurtful, so self-centred, so much, dare I say, a bully? As is always the case these events need time and they need reason and this shall be allowed for, I would hate to be considered rash. But this is the end. This is it and there is no going back. As Stuart said, she needs to take a good look at herself. It is going to rain down and she wont know what hit her. It will not be pleasant, it will not be business like and it will veer from civil in places. That is not my choice, that is my prerogative.
Three times this year I have been used and walked all over. I have been ditched, I have been ashamed and I have been laid-into in the most arrogant and self righteous manner and I have taken it in good humour. I will not apologise even once more for something I did not do. I will not accept a verbal beating by accepting someone else has flown off the handle. You fly off the handle then expect to be shot down, no-one will speak to me like that. To them, do you know who I am? Do you know what I have done? You average, moronic useless beings, destined for mediocrity. I will laugh at them soon and bridges they never knew existed will be burnt. For the first two, their times will come, for the third, and final, she will have it now and never know it again. You have lost it all, everything, and it is all that you deserve.

From here on in I devote myself 100% to the only two things that matter and I will never again make the mistake of letting myself be taken for a fool.

Note: no reference in this refers to physical violence in any way shape or form. It is metaphorical.