Monthly Archives: November 2011

Buses are bastards.

Anyone who knows me in real life (or follows me on Twitter) is fully aware of my day-to-day battle with getting to work. Not only do I have to contend with the horror of actually getting out of bed and finding clothes, I then have to board the bucket ‘o’ bollocks buses provided by First Buses.

I won’t go into too much detail about my loathing for First otherwise I will come off like a rage-filled, foamy-mouthed, Daily Mail reader. I will however provide a short summary of my rage points:

  • First’s inability to run buses that don’t stink/fall apart/breakdown. Everyday for three weeks last year, I managed to board a bus that would go on to break down .
  • First’s bizarre recruitment policy which seems to exclude hiring drivers (with the exception of about 5) who have a concept of customer service.
  • The inability to keep to a timetable. This has bugger all to do with traffic/accidents etc. I mean drivers loitering, smoking, eating and drinking rather than getting in their bloody vehicles.

I could go on.

Essentially I resent paying First £1200 a year for a service in which I’m only on time to work 2/5 days each working week. On a journey that takes upwards of 90 minutes each day, which would take a car 45 mins.

My commute drives me so completely round the bend that when I saw this poster last week, I nearly had a fucking aneurysm:

I’ve got to hand it to them. Whoever is in charge of First’s marketing department must be a really funny bastard.



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It’s been a long old week. This time last week I was sitting in the Mountain Café in Aviemore, eating a breakfast the size of a family pet and resolutely refusing to leave.

This week, I’m stuck at work, mindlessly ploughing through tasks until hometime, when I’ll have to dash home and get the house respectable for my exciting visitors this weekend.

So in an attempt to cheer up my lunch break, I’ve been looking at my holiday pictures and pretending I’m back up north, propping up the Scottish tourist industry with yet another trip.

My last visit was jam-packed with awesomeness, but last time I definitely didn’t get to squeeze in some animal-viewing action. We more than made up for it this time round, with two visits to the Highland Wildlife Park and a trip here to visit these gorgeous creatures:

Scabby antlers.

We liked the baby one the best. He was stupidly cute. The highlight though was making our own antlers, even if the music playing was sinister. Scott looked on in bewilderment as two grown women did some PRIME cutting and sticking in the kid’s area. Joyful.

It wasn’t ALL animal hijinks though. Oh no. We did have a productive reason to be in Scotland – finding a wedding venue for Hayley and Scott. What could have been an eyewateringly difficult task, was actually pretty pain free.

Somehow, I can see at least 5 of the wedding party ending up in the loch.

Look at the beautiful bridge! And the trees! The colours! It’s going to be magical.

Wedding planning can knock the energy out of you, so we basically sustained ourselves with cake the whole holiday. Cake. Every. Day. Amazing cake too.

Genuinely have been dreaming about these cakes. Uhmmphh

We nommed some bloody beautiful baked goods in amongst the trees at The Potting Shed and watched the squirrels and birds devour all the treats left out for them (you can see the feeders in the left of the picture). We also saw some horses, but luckily for the birds they weren’t ACTUALLY in the tree. Phew.

When we weren’t eating cake, we were drinking gin. Glorious gin. We drank it with dinner. We drank it with cake.

A brief serene moment. Before the mischief continued.

What’s that? A bracing walking on Nairn beach? Why not warm yourself up with a bucketful of gin and pretend to be vegetables? (Don’t ask).

I wouldn’t say there is such a thing as toomuchgin but we certainly tested the limits of gin consumption after a rowdy game of dominos one evening.

Nestling behind that can of tonic was the empty shot of sloe gin that Hayley had to do for cheating. *hic*

Bearing in mind I’ve never met any of Scott’s family before, we ended up sleeping in all corners of his Aunt’s after having got through several bottles of gin – bought and homemade – and essentially passing out. It was bloody excellent.

The morning after wasn’t too excellent though. I had one of those bastard hangovers where you wake up feeling dandy and then by noon you want to curl up and sleep for the rest of time.

We walked off a bit of the hangover with a quiet walk around the beautiful clava cairns:

The trees, the trees!!

There was talk of sourcing blankets and having a kip in them.

A steam train? In Scotland? It was TOTALLY the Hogwart’s Express.

I waited for the lady with the trolley full of Honeyduke’s sweets. She didn’t turn up.

Now THIS is an arty pretentious shot:

But hey, they really ARE lovely tickets.

The rest of my birthday was filled with more animals adventures (in which I mounted a wooden wolf), more cake (which was actually the size of my face), and an amazing meal here – where we of course snaffled some more gin.

Alas, before we knew it, it was time to go home. And back to work. Back to the shitty commute on the shitty buses, and dealing with other shitty humans. No more holidays for me this year, but should I want to remember the good times, I’ll ram my amazing cardboard antlers on and eat some cake. Even though we all know that HOLIDAY cake is the best. And the tastiest.

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This was not THE best start to a week. Particularly after having what was probably one of the best holidays I’ve had in a bloody long time.

Monday saw me return to work, only to find my (poorly) boss had been off sick for a week, leaving the Library empty. That meant arriving on Monday to no less than a FOOT of post to deal with, 300 emails and one VERY irate student member who left me crying at my desk. That’s right. Crying. Crying my big fat face off like a proper chump.

Tuesday saw me almost trip over a dead deer which was SOMEHOW on the pavement outside work, just lying there, all glassy eyed. I’m not usually bothered by dead stuff, but because it didn’t look all mashed up (like roadkill usually does) it left me really glum and depressed and a tiny bit freaked out all day long, fearing I’d trip over it in the dark on my way home.

Luckily some kind soul/demented deer botherer moved it during the day. Didn’t stop me from almost throwing up everytime I stepped on an acorn, mistaking it for a hoof crushing under my not inconsiderable weight.

Today has been monotonous to the extreme that I actually WELCOMED the hordes of directors in the Library for their training session. I even WAVED at them, like some sort of idiot.

My mind is turning to mush after just 3 days back. ARGH.

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Filed under Work