The Chick Tale Lounge

4 November 2006

The luck of the Monkey…

Filed under: Uncategorized — littlemonkey @ 8:02 pm

What happened last night… 

Careful to lock the front door, I walked my dog wearing my new winter coat.  On the way my phone dropped out my pocket with a thud. As a consequence none of the keys worked rendering my moby useless.

A big nasty firework went off, which scared my little man so much that he dragged me home so fast I was  running the whole way and had a near fatal asthma attack. Mental note: Exercise more.

When we got home I realised that it wasn’t only my phone but also my key that dropped out my pocket.

Living here on my own until Sunday.

Then began the fight: Barney (my dog) in the red corner me in the blue corner. Barney refused point blank to leave the front door to look for the key. Barney in the end won. Honestly he can literally be as stubborn as a mule.

So I tied Barney to the front door and went searching for my key in the pitch black with no torch! And no phone to ask for help!!!

I started swearing and nearly cried.

After approx 45 minutes I found the key about 3mm away from dog poo.

When I got back I let Barney in the house and he jumped in the air and barked with glee.

I needed counselling!

Found my old phone and put my SIM card in that to use. To cut the story short, I ended up sleeping on my old phone rendering the most  important button i.e. the answer call and dial number button useless….

23 October 2006

Romance is not dead!

Filed under: Uncategorized — bege @ 2:56 pm

Yes folks, the seemingly impossible has happened: BF not only remembered our 8 YEAR ANNIVERSARY today but also managed to arrange for an ENORMOUS bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates to be delivered at my office – despite the fact he’s currently residing in Nairobi, Kenya!  I can’t deny it brought a tear to the eye (oh alright then, a whole flood of tears…)

Seven weeks until we are reunited…..[sigh] 

(btw, in case you were wondering, my intention in posting this was not to gloat but rather to prove to all the ladies reading this -whether they be coupled-up or single - that sometimes, just sometimes, men do get it right!) 

20 October 2006

The Great Coffee Debate

Filed under: Uncategorized — bege @ 9:52 am

In recent weeks the controversy and anger surrounding who makes the coffee in our office has reached a crescendo.  Admittedly, there has been an imbalance of labour for quite some time, with two out of the four of us making rather more effort than the others (I, you may have guessed, was one of the two who didn’t), but I have always argued that they drink more coffee than us anyway, so it’s only fair that they should make it more often.  Well, it would seem that argument is no longer washing with said colleagues, who have now (driven to desperation) drawn up a ‘coffee chart’ to monitor how many times we all make hot beverages each day.  One full round equals 1 point, half a round equals half a point, and so on.  Oh – and apparently it doesn’t count if you only make your own (drats).  The problem is, since the new system was introduced we’ve all got a bit power-hungry for coffee points.  Now whoever gets into the office first races to the kettle in a desperate bid to be the first person there, thus securing their point by preparing the mugs with their quota of milk/coffee/tea bags/sugar (if some or all of these are in the cups when the second person reaches them they must, by law, allow the person who prepared them to finish their round – hijacking a round is frowned upon, and possibly even punishable by death).  Worst of all, we’ve taken to jumping out of our seats at totally random times during the day shouting ‘coffee anyone?’ at the top of our voices (even when we don’t want one) just to make sure we’re not bottom of the league table come Friday afternoon.  It all strikes me as being a bit anal really.  Pathetic even.  But can I stop?  Can I hell.  I’m just as competitive as the next person!

Anyone else have any office foibles they would care to share?

11 October 2006

“This is a pretzel town, pretty boy”

Filed under: Tweets, by Keris — chicktales @ 4:05 am

fat-tony.jpg
I’m a dreadful worrier. No, that’s not true – I’m an excellent worrier. I worry all the time. I’m writing this at 3.45am because I woke up, started worrying and now can’t get back to sleep. I go over the same things, over and over the same things, over and over and over, until I start to go a bit mad. I have been known to slap myself in the head. You know, to make it stop. It doesn’t work. But what does work (to a degree) is making a list. And something else that works is taking action. So when I was sent a list of actions to take, well, you can imagine my joy. It’s from Amanda Lowe’s Blissblast (which I recommend – it may be short, but it’s too the point) and it’s this. If you have a problem, ask yourself Amanda’s Magic 10 Questions:

1. Do you accept that you have a problem?
2. What’s the problem?
3. What is causing the problem?
4. What have you not done about resolving the problem yet?
5. Is there a solution to your problem that you haven’t thought of yet?
6. What would you like to change?
7. When will you stop letting it be a problem?
8. How many ways do you know to let go of the problem?
9. Could you do something about the problem?
10. When?

That’s got to work, hasn’t it?

The reason for the heading of this post and the accompanying photo is that the relentless nature of the questions reminds me of one of my favourite ever bits in The Simpsons. When Marge starts a pretzel business Homer ‘hires’ Fat Tony to deal with the competition, but when Homer fails to pay Fat Tony the kickbacks he’s agreed, Tony goes to see Marge instead:

Fat Tony: Sorry we’re late. Could we have the money now?
Marge: The answer… is no.
Fat Tony: I’m afraid I must insist. You see, my wife, she has been most vocal on the subject of the pretzel monies. “Where’s the money? “When are you going to get the money?” “Why aren’t you getting the money now?” And so on.

So when you ask yourself those Magic 10 Questions it might help if you do it in Fat Tony’s voice. Well, you know, it can’t hurt.

9 October 2006

My new favourite word is…

Filed under: Uncategorized — littlemonkey @ 10:11 pm

Fecker

Lola, can I please use it even if I am not Irish?

If I can use it  – is it okay if I just say it in my normal voice instead of a really silly accent, which only I recognise as Irish?

Please please please

x

3 October 2006

Erm…not pregnant- just fat

Filed under: Cheeps, by Lola — loladane @ 7:53 pm

It can never, ever be good when someone looks at your tummy and says “Oooh good luck”.

It happened today. There I was at work, feeling all svelte after losing 7lbs when I told a woman I was off on leave next week. “Oooh, leave,” she said, looking directly at my stomach, ” good luck”.

“It’s only a week’s holiday,” I replied and walked away, praying the ground would open up under me because not only did this woman think I was pregnant she obviously thought I was SO pregnant that I would need to be going off on maternity leave.

I’m not sure who first said it but you should never, ever, ever mention a pregnancy to a woman unless you can see her cervix dilating.

It was all I could do not to eat my bodyweight in chocolate as a comfort mechanism.

28 September 2006

Mr What if…. or Mr what a wanker….

Filed under: Uncategorized — littlemonkey @ 10:54 pm

Please provide advice, please pease please:

 Whilst I was still in a relationship and working in my previous job, there was, I admit some flirting with a guy at work.I was immensely flattered that he would even glance in my direction.  He is very handsome.

It started with me just thinking he was eye candy and staring at him out of the window from my desk at work. Then he stared back. Then we got to eye contact. About a month later he raised the game and smiled. Three months after that we talked, then we emailed and work went out the window. I literally spend 6 hours out of my 8 hour day emailing him.

I told him straight away that I was in a relationship. But he seemed to either like the challeng or like me enough. We met for a drink or two and I realised how compatible we were.

I was unbelievably attracted to him and he made it obvious he was to me. We shared the same passions, the same  left wing (woolly jumper wearing) political views and wanted the same future. But when we clashed it was massive argument time (which was very horny).

Nothing happened when I was in a relationship though, but it could have. So I realised our friendship had to slow down  ( because of my relationship, which was crap at the time).

But then I became single.

I told him about the break-up, we met and had our first kiss; nearly 2 years after we first started staring at each other . Yeahy!!!!!!!.

 It was a very romantic night.

Then a week or so later, he went cold and emailed me at work to say he had met someone else. (dumped twice in a month, yes my confidence was at an all time high) (Oh OK then I admit it,  I was then dumped the following week by another random, but that doesn’t bother me).  My grave will say “Resilient”.

Anyway back to the story, I got that lovely email at work and I didn’t bother to  reply. I left my job, moved back home and deleted his number.

About 2 months later (July) he text me again. Since I had deleted his number out of my phone, and I didn’t recognise his number, I text back asking who it was (Oh OK then i did recognise his number but had deleted his number and pretended I didn’t know who it was {to be cool}).

He text back stating the nickname I had gave him.

I ignored him.

But he persisted and persisted and tricked me into a response by texting about things I love, like puppies.

 After I caved in and responded to a text, he called me (for about 2 hours)  and apologised saying the other girl was a massive mistake and his reason: she seemed like an easier option.  I fresh out of a break-up with potential troubles. But he regretted it and wished he could turn back time. He missed me etc.

Now we are speaking terms and getting back to the flirty text messages.

He wants to meet up. I am not sure. From what I gleamed from the office gossip (after the whole dumping me at work by email thing) he is a bit of a male whore. But if truth be told, I really  like him… . But my gut instinct makes me think the whole thing is a car crash waiting to happen… . My friends are waving huge banners in my face saying “NO!!!!!!!!”. In fact all my friends think he is a d**k.

What do i do?

Do I,  in my fragile state,  risk another heart break.? Do I continue down the disasterous dating 21yr old line? Do I let myself heal and forget about boys? Or do i jump in with Mr What if or is he Mr what a wanker?

27 September 2006

These Feet Weren’t Made for Walking

Filed under: Uncategorized — bege @ 9:35 am

I do not own a single pair of comfortable shoes.  Hard to believe, I know (especially considering I’ve got nigh on 20 pairs) but it is, regrettably, true.  Take the latest ones – black pumps, no heel.  How in God’s name can they not be comfortable?  They’re flat pumps for goodness sake!  But no, today was their third outing and they have, once again, let me down, leaving big angry red marks on my heels and the sides of my feet (at the front – not sure what the technical name for that part of the foot is..?)  I did briefly consider wearing the low black kitten heels which are, arguably, the most comfortable pair I own, but reasoned if I wore heels I might then get the bus rather than walk from the tube station to work (the latter being the healthier option).  And then what happened?  My bloody black pumps hurt my feet so much I had to get the bus anyway!! 

The really unfortunate thing is that I’m not even safe with trainers.  On the whole they aren’t my favourite choice of footwear, being large (I’m a size 7, so trainers often look like great big boats on my feet – not a good look) and ungainly, but on occasion (ie when late for work, as I am every day) they’re ideal.  Except they’re not ideal for me.  At present I own one pair, and whilst they are becoming more comfy each time I wear them (about time after two years!!) they’re still not quite right - a bit tight around the toes, despite being my size (supposedly).

Then there are the three pairs of knee-high boots, which I hold close to my heart (especially the black suede ones I got in the Selfridges sale donkeys ago reduced from £200 to £90 – bargain) but which do, invariably, leave me gasping to sit down after walking in them for an hour.  No blisters with those though, which is a blessing I suppose.

The real perpetrators are the cowboy boots and the sky high peep toes – both bought on a ridiculous ‘must be fashionable’ whim and both worn a grand total of about three times.  The cowboy boots were a particular disaster, being purchased on the cusp of a new season and therefore being rendered useless soon afterwards, consigned to the back of the wardrobe and only dragged out on occasion, when I put them on, walk around the bedroom, feel my feet start to bleed and promptly take them off and put them away again.  The same was true of the peep toes until I discovered those new gel pad thingies you can buy in Boots for heels and the balls of your feet – truly inspirational (but still not quite a solution from the heavens).

Anyway, just wanted to have a rant really.  I don’t think my feet are a particularly odd shape – not too wide, not too narrow, not too large – so why oh why oh why can’t I find a single pair of shoes that fit me?

Don’t know why I’m worrying about this right now though, seeing as I’ll be spending the best part of the next two years installed in comfy hiking boots and flip flops as I trek across the African plains!  Ah, bliss.   

26 September 2006

Dating in your late twenties part 2…

Filed under: Uncategorized — littlemonkey @ 11:05 pm

Imagine he is cute and you’re dressed in your best, drinking alchofrolic vodka, in the new cool bar…”You’re how old?”

“27″ I whisper

“What?”

“27″

“Really?”

“Yep”

“Cool…like an older woman..”

“Older? How old are you?”

“21″

 ”What!!”

“I’ve graduated though and mature and stuff.”

“Born in …” hard to calculate when drunk “…”1985?”

“I’m an eighties kid”

“Back to the Future was filmed then.” I only know because Michael J Fox was my first crush. I used to kiss his picture in my Auntie’s magazine. ”Do you remember Gordon the Gopher?”

Shrug “Not first time round, but I…”

 Have made sharp exit.  I mean GTG is a national treasure.

21 September 2006

Holding out for a hero

Filed under: Cheeps, by Lola — loladane @ 10:29 am

Dean CainThere are times in your life when the Gods shine upon you and you know that just like Maria in the Sound of Music, somewhere in your youth or childhood, you must have done something good.

Tuesday was such a day for me.

There I was, arriving into work in my usual Tuesday morning funk when low and behold an seemingly innocent email revealed that Dean Cain, aka Superman, is about to arrive in my home-town to begin shooting a new movie.

To add to my considerable frenzy, the director has invited me on set…

TO. MEET. SUPERMAN.

I have shown my editor the attached picture and offered to recreate the pose- purely in the interest of journalistic endeavour of course.

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