We’re back, jetlagged, already sick of work, and sneakily taking a look at options for our next holiday, but don’t tell anyone.
The Trip Report has started with Day One now up on The Dibb. There is a link to it on the Trip Reports Page.
This isn’t a proper post, as with work, trip reporting and being fed up, I don’t have time, but I just wanted to say hello to everyone now we are back in the UK.
I’ll probably do a blog post this weekend if I can, as I have some inner rage to expel on some theme park behaviours I encountered that made my (usually calm) blood boil.
See you then, and of course, till the next time…..
This isn’t helped in any way by our house going up for sale, so as well as having to prepare for the important stuff, such as our trip, but I’m also having to cosmetically enhance the house to fool some idiot into thinking we’ve done loads of work on it rather than hand over all our renovation budget to the board of Disney.
A house has gone on the market down the road which Louise tells me we like and, therefore we are to see if we can off load our current one to secure it.
As you might expect last week at work did not fly by, but somehow the weekend arrived, with a slight sense of foreboding as I had an inkling of the amount of stuff we had to get done.
The weekend started with the revelation that the cheap as chips suitcase we’ve been using for a decade will not survive another trip. Really, is nothing built to last these days?? Indignant at having to spend money after only ten short years of dragging our current case across the Atlantic, the first task of the weekend was to secure new luggage. We also had a very brief discussion about buying a new rucksack. Louise pointed out one that would be suitable, and I reacted like she had suggested I lopped off my left arm. Ryan is getting on and he needs some work but if that were the criteria for being replaced I would have been gone long ago.
A case of bad taste?
We left the girls at home getting ready to go out with their friends, (which worryingly takes forever these days…there will be trouble on holiday if I am denied early startiness) and Louise and I scoured at least two shops to find something suitable. There wasn’t a great deal of choice if I’m honest, but the main criteria being, it is cheap, and it is well proportioned (hey, that sounds like me), we soon settled on the flowery affair you can see in the picture.
Size wise it fits the bill as either of the girls could get in it, which in hindsight could have saved me the cost of one flight!!
For the second time in recent history I then ventured to the Trafford Centre on a Saturday, as Louise “had no clothes at all” for the holiday. I needed a couple of things too, and as I needed Louise along to let me know if I liked stuff, it was two birds with one stone.
About to be blown off....
As we got in the car to leave I spotted something on the roof the likes of which I have never seen before in this country. As the photo shows, it is half dung beetle, half fly, and after snapping a quick photo I was glad to get into the car, floor the accelerator and see it be blown off in my rearview mirror, and that isn’t something you see every day, unless you go looking for it on the internet.
First things first, we had lunch. Then we started the tour of every women’s clothing shop in there. The day was full of ups and downs, with lows as “nothing looks right”, and then moments of elation as a triumphant Louise emerges from a changing room, garments aloft, wielding here switch card like a samurai sword.
I got some new trainers. The whiteness of these new trainers you cannot begin to perceive. They come with several sets of dark glasses to be handed out to passers-by. They announce the fact that I have just purchased them like the brightest beacon on the darkest night. Did I mention that they are white?
I also got some brown sandals. Now, as I told the girls this on our return home, their faces reflected the horror that phrase could mean. However, trust me they look very suave and sophisticated. I like them because Louise said so, and she also said they are good as they hide most of my horrid feet from view.
Our return from shopping saw me go to the gym and the supermarket as is becoming my Saturday routine, and Louise, not yet fed up with retail establishments ventured out again to the Middlebrook retail park, next to the Reebok stadium, even though a match was in full flow. She has no fear, having braved the Trafford Centre, she now struck out solo to face the traffic chaos that is the end of a match at the Reebok.
She returned with that holiday essential, a new phone! Yes, that’s right, with mere hours to go until departure, she felt the need to replace our perfectly good phone. I didn’t really pursue that for personal safety reasons, and she did seem to have bought enough clothes for the entire Magic Kingdom crowd, so I’m guessing she’s sorted now.
Bum Steer
Now, a word of warning. If you, like us, enjoy settling down as a family to watch a film, then don’t whatever you do, do so with one called “I Love You Phillip Morris”.
We are big Jim Carrey fans, so we were looking forward to watching this one, and the 15 certificate told us it was fairly sure to be OK for the girls, with perhaps a little swearing, which is nothing they won’t have heard anytime that I’m doing DIY.
I won’t go into details here, but the “bottom” line is that the girls quickly made their excuses and averted their eyes in a few “love scenes” as I quickly scrabbled around trying to find the fast forward button.
Don’t get me wrong, the film is very good, just not a family one!
Then, the day of rest dawned. Louise had been up for a while, making lists! I knew immediately I was in trouble. So today I have –
Hung a picture (minimum swearing)
Mowed the lawn
Cleaned the kitchen
Dropped the girls off somewhere
Popped in to see my Mum
Resealed the bath
Hung a mirror (maximum swearing)
Made tea (putting that pizza in the oven was a tough one).
Louise was last seen in our bedroom somewhere under a pile of clothes. I think I got the better deal to be honest. Rebecca has just done the “try on” of stuff in her drawers and selected the garments that will make the Atlantic crossing, and Emily is now upstairs doing the same. I suspect they will both return with more than they left with!
So we move into the last few days, and for once I am having to work right up until the day we go, as having just started at the new place, I have very few holidays to take. So Louise is off Wednesday and Thursday to get stuff ready, and I shall appear on Thursday evening just in time to sit on the case, zip it up, and then unzip it again on Friday morning to force all the last-minute hair apparatus in. I suppose I could leave my GHDs behind??
Emily’s idea of getting ready for holiday is to try on three T-shirts and then ask which take away we are having on Thursday evening. For the record she wants a curry.
As I type I can hear a conversation upstairs centring around knickers, and thankfully the verdict is she has enough. This is good news as this morning Louise took Henry to the vets. The amount of money exchanged there was on a par with the holiday budget, so if we haven’t got something now we’re doing without. Henry is fine by the way, apart from an infected ear, and issues around his anal glands.
Apparently, after a quick root around up there, and the appearance of some cottage cheese like substance from his glands, Louise almost lost her breakfast, and don’t forget Louise has worked in Operating theatres, and sees old lady boobs all day every day.
He seems much happier in himself now, and when Louise came home and described the procedures done by the vet, I sort of understood the amount of cash charged.
Anyway, he’s ready for his holidays in Yorkshire now, but the instructions for the giving of medication is longer than this here post, so the best of luck to Steve and Di, his carers whilst we are pet free.
So come on Friday, hurry yourself along. I only hope the trip is a magical one, and gives a good return for the sheer amount of hours that have gone into it’s making. For the record here are some of the milestones I am looking forward to –
The airport
Arriving at the villa
The first “big shop” at the supermarket (cake, beer, crisps with perhaps some fruit)
The walk up Main Street on our first morning
Food, all of it.
Hard Rock Hotel
Harry Potter stuff
Daytona
The Beach Club
and I even don’t really mind turning forty!
I will say goodbye for now, as I doubt I will blog whilst overseas. I may manage the odd tweet/facebook as the girls will have their laptops with them, and I shall see you all back here in early September for more tales of household chores, shopping and my dog’s backside. How could you resist?
The weekend has been less than restful, and it is only now that I have planted my backside on the couch, found an episode of Two and a Half Men I have only seen about twelve times, and commenced the me time.
Yesterday saw me tackle a task that has been festering at the back of my mind for months. I threw the back seats down in the car, ready for the trek to the tip, took a deep breath, and ventured into the garage. Someone once said that it is crazy that we leave thousands of pounds worth of car on the drive, and stuff the garage full of worthless crap. We had indeed, and it took many, many hours to get to a stage where you can now walk through the garage without striding over stuff.
To put the level of work into context, in one box we found the photo from the twelve week scan of Rebecca! Rebecca is 13 years old.
So with two trips to the local tip, we said goodbye to stuff we had kept for years, under the illusion that we would need it someday. Sod’s law says that we will next week.
The afternoon, as last week, was spent at the gym, and then Asda. I truly am living the dream.
This morning saw me wrestle with the downstairs loo. By that I mean that Louise had started to decorate it this week, and it was therefore my job to finish it. The room, as you might imagine, is small, so why is it then that it took me bloody hours, and it still isn’t finished. I ran out of wall paper just before I ran out of patience. There are so many nooks and crannies in there that not one piece of paper went on in one piece. The complexity of wallpapering is directly related to the level of bad language.
Pleased to have a reason to stop, I did.
So, that explains my opening sentence!
Keep going....
This week saw me produce a pre trip report, which was perhaps a little premature, but hey, such is the story of my life. I’m not a big pre trip writer, and have only done one a couple of times, as I’m never really sure what to put in there. Anyway, with my countdown racing to a conclusion, I felt obliged.
As a result of posting this, there may be a few new readers here at http://www.mkingdon.com so welcome to you if that is the case.
I don’t know if anyone else feels like this, but when we get as close as this to a trip, I try to tell myself to enjoy having a countdown, and in some way, fear the holiday racing past all too quickly, and then I’m sat back here staring a bleak winter in the face, wondering when the next trip will be possible.
So for now, it seems I can think of nothing else than the upcoming trip. I am looking forward to so many things it would be difficult to list them all. These things are not necessarily the big events either, it is also the silly things. For me, the sheer joy of the morning of the outward journey is pure magic. For once, no-one minds getting up at silly o’clock, and the drive to the airport is a jolly affair. Even the hours spent at the airport are special, and somehow I don’t mind paying over the odds for an average breakfast, and if the girls are looking to get anything bought for them, this is a good time to get me!
I don’t think Louise enjoys this as much though, as her fear of flying is pretty bad. I wouldn’t say that I enjoy the flight, but mainly due to an over eagerness to get to the front of the car hire queue. Louise however, is genuinely afraid of the entire thing. I suppose it shows how much she enjoys the holiday that she puts herself through it every year.
Two by Two
This year, I’ve booked seats right at the back of the plane, based on the assumption that if we hit any mountains then we’ll be OK, as you never hear of any planes reversing into these things. The layout of the plane is typically 3-3-3, but right at the back it narrows to 2-3-2. This means we don’t have to worry about one of us (me of course) having to sit with another family, and we can just concentrate on annoying each other.
In years gone by one of the grown ups (yes, that includes me) would have sat with one of the girls, as we would have had Polly Pockets to dress, and food to cut up, but these days the girls can sit together, share iPods, films and their opinions on any boy unfortunate enough to wander by.
The films on board look pretty good, with the latest Shrek, Iron Man 2, Valentine’s Day and a few others I can’t remember available so these should pass a few hours. For me, the worst part of the flight is just after the food, drinks and duty free have been around, and things settle down. It is at that point that I realise that we still have about six hours left, and the girls start asking me how long to go!
The big kid in me just wants to get there, beat everyone though immigration, be the first to get the car, and be free of the airport and en route to the villa. I will remind myself now, to savour every moment, even those that I find boring and frustrating, as they are all better than being back at work!!
I don’t usually deal with queues and people particularly well. You may wonder then why I continue to go to the one place on earth guaranteed to inflict both on me. I can’t answer that really, but I do know that this peaks on the outward journey, with a multitude of tuts heard at every stage, from the check in desk to the restaurant we have breakfast in. I promise to restrict my Meldrew-esque moments to a minimum Louise!!
Oh yes, I just remembered. A historic event happened yesterday. You may remember in a previous post my disdain at Louise’s suggestion that I may need some new shorts. I made the point that I only wear them for two weeks every year, so in effect, regardless of the fact that they are older than the kids, they are almost brand new.
Anyway, I bought some new ones! They should see me right till my 50th now!
I’m waffling now, so I should stop. My excitement is over-riding my ability to edit myself. If you think this post has been a winding piece of nonsense, lurching from one thought to another, all holiday related, just wait until next weekend, when it will be my last blog post pre holiday.
I’m not sure yet if I will be tweeting from Florida, I need to ask the IT chaps at work if my phone tariff will inflict thousand of pounds worth of data charges by taking it to the US. In a way I hope it does, as it will mean two weeks away from email. On the other hand, I could do with my phone to act as sat nav, mobile internet look up, and tweeter whilst away.
The week began with Emily’s actual birthday. Being a Monday, and Louise and I having to go to work we had to wake her at some silly time to bestow pressies upon her. This, on a school day is dicey, but to do it in school holidays is something that only the bravest souls should attempt. We did offer her the option of having her presents on Sunday evening, but bless her, she felt this wouldn’t be quite right.
Pigging Loud
It was probably the lure of presents which meant that she was awake, and amazingly smiling quite quickly and with minimum physical harm to either parent. We were not stupid or ambitious enough to actually assume she would get out of bed, so we did the deed in her bedroom and she was delighted with the gifts on offer.
From Nana, Grandad and Auntie and Uncle, a pig that you can stick your iPod into. Folk have been arrested for less, but it seems this is OK to do. It isn’t very big, but seems to have the audio output equivalent an Iron Maiden gig. In fact that would be preferrable to some of the shouty nonsense that has been pouring out of it this week.
Most of the girl’s music is at worst tolerable, and some quite enjoyable, but at the other extreme, is the shouty nonsense with a bloke using some sort of ridiculous deep gutteral noise to spout lyrics that no-one can actually make out. Yes, yes I know I now sound like every Dad in history, but I refute that claim. Where music is concerned I am fairly discerning, having almost been a pop star and everything, and I’m sorry but this stuff really is just noise.
Emily’s other main present from good old Mum & Dad was a camera. She’d asked for this a while ago, and in line with all good Dad traditions, I had told her she had no chance as they were too expensive, so she was nicely surprised upon ripping the wrappings off.
Sharp Shooter
She fancies getting into photography, which ties in with her overall interest in all things media, film and stuff. Having looked at proper SLRs, chuckled at the price and moved on we got her what I believe is called a Bridge camera. As the name suggests a sort of half way house between the usual point and shoot and those proper cameras where you need to know what you are doing.
As someone who is firmly in the point and shoot, leave it on automatic setting camp, I really hope she does get into photography enough to know her ISO from her elbow, then she can teach me. What it also means, is that this year we should have two lots of photos from our holiday. I suspect Emily’s collection will be quite select, as the “effort” of actually carrying it around will all be a bit too much…unless of course good old Dad shoves it into the never-ending rucksack.
The girls have been off this week as the holidays are now in full swing, which has meant getting to work has been a whole load easier. No teenagers to get out bed, no lunches to make, and the traffic on the roads has been a delight. Work itself is making a little more sense every day, and I feel like I made the odd positive contribution every now and again too.
So the week really passed without too much to note. Saturday saw the girls and I strike out to the forbidden land that is the Trafford Centre on a Saturday. My declaration that we had to be out of the house by 9.30am crashed and burned on the rocks of showers, hair dryers and hair straighteners. I must learn to get ready quicker! Anyway, we got there pre lunch, and the main job was to get Rebecca some shorts. Gone are the days of buying a multi pack of multi coloured shorts, possibly with flowers on from Adams. Back then, the girls would more or less wear whatever you put on them. My how things have changed, and we spent hours, scouring every clothes shop in the Trafford Centre for shorts….denim shorts.
Can I just say what an absolute nonsense female clothes shopping is. Items are not grouped together in one part of the store, so you might find a pair of shorts near the door, and several others tucked away in some dark corner. Then even when you do find them, the game of trying to identify what bloody size each garment is starts. These labels are not displayed obviously on the outside of the clothes, or on some large clear label, or even better hung around the top of the hanger. No this crucial information is hidden inside the shorts, on a label the size of a pin head, in a foreign language. So this means I have to root around in women’s shorts getting all hot and sweaty (so many jokes, so little time), as the girls will not exert that level of effort, as it may impinge on their job of looking cool.
Then, I had to summon the crash team to revive me when I saw that the price for a piece of denim, stitched into the shape of shorts started, yes, started at £20. I won’t continue the rant here, but we dropped a bunch of cash just to ensure Rebecca didn’t have to spend the fortnight in her swimsuit. Of course the expense was added to with lunch, the obligatory Starbucks, and a couple of T Shirts for Emily, as the sulk factor for having being dragged to the Trafford Centre, and not being bought anything reached serious levels after a few hours. Rebecca also secured herself a new pair of black converse as her old ones were literally falling apart. She does wear them as her school shoes, so Dad logic says, yes you can have a pair for the holidays, and then they will do nicely for the new term when you get back! Result.
Toys with your affections
The rest of Saturday was spent by me at the gym, taking a few ounces off in readiness for the calorie onslaught that will ensue in the US, then we went to see Toy Story 3 in 3D. It was up to the usual high standards, and Emily cried all over again. I say again, as of course she and Rebecca watched it last weekend for her birthday do.
Perhaps the theme of growing up and moving on struck a chord with Emily, as at 15, she has a drawer full of toys she just won’t part with. As soon as her back is turned, I am due an eBay bonanza.
How I wish I had this guy's job!
Over the weekend I have also watched the episodes of Man vs Food that I had sky plussed on Friday. It is on one of those high numbered channels on Sky that you rarely stumble to, but believe me it is well worth it.
The premise is that Adam Richman travels the US visiting eateries, and taking on various eating challenges. Some are truly ridiculous, and one episode stood out for that very reason. I can eat, but this meant taking down a 2lb sandwich, and 6lb milkshake in one hour. I won’t spoil it by telling you whether he did or not!!
If you haven’t seen the show have a look for it on Friday nights, aroundabout Channel 249 or 250 I think…or of course You Tube is your friend.
One last thing to point out, is that I have started to use Four Square. I can’t really tell you what it is, but it is a new social networking thing, so I thought I’d give it a go. I only mention it as it posts updates as to my location from time to time, so when you see them on Twitter or Facebook, it might explain why I am posting trivia about being at Asda!! Not that me posting trivia is anything new to anybody.
Before I start, can I just point out, more for my benefit than anyone else, that it is 25 days until we go to Florida!
This is not a gloat, well not solely a gloat, but more of a wake up to me that this thing is close now. The whole new job thing has really taken my eye off the clock watching, agonising minute by minute countdown analysis that is normally going on around now.
With my first week at the new place under the belt, my eye is now drifting back, slowly to the very pleasant task of awaiting our latest trip.
Oh, I bought our park tickets! I know I have dragged that out for weeks now, but with the realisation that we don’t have long to go, and a minor rally on the Dollar rate, I took the plunge. I used Orlando Attractions in the end, and got an 8 day Magic Your Way Base Ticket, with 2 days for free. We will not do ten days in Disney, but it gives us a couple spare in case we want to pop in for an evening etc on a non planned Disney day. Add to that the 14 day 2 park Universal ticket and we are sorted, and all with change out of a grand! I was happy. Well as happy as I can be parting with that amount of cash!
So, this new job then, how did it go? I know you will not have slept with worry all week, so let me enlighten you. It was OK.
Now what else happened this week….
Oh, more detail perhaps? Well, it was OK, with most people being very welcoming, and I certainly know more now than I did last Sunday, but there lies the rub for me. For the past many years I have been the guru, the gnu, the expert, the one with an answer for any question. So to transport me from that to being the bloke who is still opening every cupboard in the kitchen area trying to find a cup, well its a culture shock.
Quayed up
By Friday however, I was feeling like progress had been made as I did make a couple of contributions that were remotely useful. Hope is high that I may do the same again next week.
The week itself consisted of training on Monday, London to see a customer on Tuesday, another customer meeting, but this in the office on Wednesday, and then Thursday and Friday a series of internal meetings and getting stuff sorted to respond to customers.
The view to the left is a snap I took on my walk from the car park to the office on Monday morning. The offices are at Salford Quays, so it is all penthouse apartments, pink pound and expensive coffees, but the views are certainly better than the last place which was a business park in Bury (no offence Bury).
Having avoided being uncovered as the charlatan I am in one whole week, we’ll see if we can do the same again next week and take it from there.
Emily returned from Berlin on Friday evening after another 24 hour journey from hell. She had a great time, but was glad to be home. When she posts her photos (obviously on Facebook) I will post a link here if anyone wants to have a look.
She was zombie like and hadn’t eaten properly in about two days, so we did the decent thing and ordered a load of Dominos pizza. Her early night drifted to 11pm of course, and she is still struggling now to be honest.
This is mainly because she had her birthday “do” yesterday. This involved seven teenagers descending upon us at lunchtime Saturday. We quickly deposited them at the cinema to watch Toy Story 3, whilst we did the BIG SHOP, and prepared things for the evening.
Well groomed groomFringes are fire hazards
This involved buying three tonnes of junk food, preparing it, supplying a few horror DVDs and then buggering off out for the night. We tried a local restaurant for the first time having driven past it a million times threatening to eat there. Desperate to escape Teen City, we arrived early, and had the place to ourselves initially, but very soon the place was buzzing as an Asian wedding was taking place. We were enthralled to be honest. The colours, dress and all round showbiz nature of the event was great to watch.
With all the hullaballoo, we couldn’t leave the restaurant as we would have had to walk right through the video and photos, so we just sat and watched. This meant that we missed the film we wanted to watch at the cinema, Inception. So we had to kill 45 minutes until the next showing with a glass of wine and J2O. I will let you guess who had which!
The film was great…I think. It is so complicated it was hard to tell. I was almost afraid to breathe in case doing so distracted me from the story line and I lost the thread.
So we didn’t get home until midnight, to find our lounge looking like Beirut, and smelling worse. So we shut the door and went to bed like the responsible adults we are.
Next thing, we are awake at 8.30am, by shouting and giggling from downstairs, and I am soon on bacon butty duties. An enormous amount of getting ready happens and finally they all stumble out of the door around 10.30. I see this as a chance of escape, and run away, I mean drive to the gym. Having being operated on a little while ago (what do you mean you forgot?), I have not been to the gym since. I have used our treadmill at home a few times, but that is quite gentle really, so I was fearing the worst to be honest. I was right.
Five minutes in to my normal routine I was seeing my life flash before my eyes, and as most of it seemed to involve seven teenagers and an Asia wedding, peppered with highlights from Inception, it didn’t make much sense. I somehow made it to half an hour on the cross trainer, and then shuffled for a further ten on the treadmill. The sit ups I ended up with were less than elegant, and I dragged my wheezing frame into the changing room before I presented the gym with the highlights from last night’s curry!
As for the rest of the day, well the kids are out, probably taking crack somewhere, Louise is happily ironing away upstairs, so I think I’ll take my lead from Henry, and join him in a bit of this….
It has been a few days littered with goodbyes. As I may have mentioned, I finally, after 12 weeks of hellish notice period, left my job on Friday. As tradition dictates I was expected to take in some snacks for the team, as part of the ritual of escape.
It may not surprise you to learn that I may have over bought. I do…no, did, have a largeish team of around thirty, but I still defeated them, and ended up bringing home quite a bit.
I was, by some bizarre circumstance, quite busy on my final day, which was annoying. Perhaps they may miss me after all, but frankly, you cannot imagine the enormity of the toss I do not give. As the time came to actually leave, the goodbyes were made with arms full of gifts and excess food.
The saddest goodbyes were with the chaps at my favourite supplier Merus Software. We have worked together for ten years now, never had a cross word, and I can honestly say that it was fun working with them. As they are based in the South West, our virtual office that we share is a chat room, and the goodbyes exchanged there were harder to do than the ones face to face in Bury!
Nerds for Herding
Anyway, on to the important stuff, what pressies did I get? Well, I got a posh pen. I am not an aficionado of pens, but it looks nice, and someone let slip that it cost £40. These pen makers must live off the gift trade as surely nobody in their right mind would spend £40 of their own money on a bloody pen??? I also got some M&S vouchers. A safe, and appreciated thought, as, within 48 hours they are spent. Louise works on the premise that vouchers expire within minutes, and we have spent the day today in Bolton getting me some new clothes.
There, I admitted that I do clothes shopping at M&S. I am officially 106.
I think I realised today how long it has been since I actually went clothes shopping for myself. Put it this way, I didn’t know that half the shops we walked by existed. The last time I was in town they were model aircraft shops, and toy shops selling Rubik Cubes. Having only managed to get two items of clothing for the best part of £50 was also a bit of an alien concept!
My team also got me another present which was a little odd, but a nice thought. A photo of the team!! Now, my unofficial job title for the past ten years has been nerd herder, so you can imagine the subjects in said photo would not trouble the cover of GQ magazine, but as I said a nice thought all the same. It now lives on my fridge. It puts the kids off eating too much!
Working...honest!
Emily’s work experience ended on Friday too. The two weeks were probably two of the longest in her short life. Anyway, on Friday she was allowed to “work on her PC”, which meant playing with Photoshop, and perhaps more likely browsing the internet.
Speaking of Emily, the second set of goodbyes were this morning as we waved her off on her school trip to Berlin. Linked to this, yesterday I had to go to a travel agents to pick up some Euros for her, and I realised that people actually still book their holidays in these places. Whilst queuing I overheard couples taking to “agents” (typically early twenty something false tanned travel experts) describing their ideal/preferred trip, and then sitting back as these girls then tap at computers and make phone calls to secure their holiday.
It brought back memories of doing this with my Mum & Dad, over twenty years ago. Really, someone needs to tell them that internet has been invented. How can you hand over thousands of pounds based on one brochure photograph and the reccomendation of Kirstie from Bolton (apologies to all Kirsties).
So back to this morning. Having packed yesterday we wrestled her out of bed early, and drove her to school. We then stood for half an hour as about fifty sleepy teenagers were packed onto their coach. There was a slight delay as one chap didn’t turn up. It turns out he thought the trip was tomorrow. Oh dear.
At 9.30 the coach left, followed by all the parents waving at their particular bundle of hormones, all feeling a little bit sick and upset at the thought of their child being out of their control and protection for the next week…or was that just me? I hate the thought of Emily doing the long journey without me driving the coach and sailing the ferry. Who said I was a control freak??
As goodbyes go this week, this was the harder of the two!
Tomorrow of course I start my new job, so all those new kid at school feelings will resurface, but hopefully I can avoid having my head flushed down the toilet for most of the day. To ready myself for the trauma of this new experience I have told Louise that the correct preparation is to sit on my arse for about six hours in front of the golf. She looks sceptical, but she’s busy with her ironing hobby so she’ll be OK.
I still haven’t ordered my tickets by the way. My finger has hovered over the button a couple of times, as it has with the purchase of dollars too, but with the dollar rate having a welcome surge recently I am holding my nerve as long as possible to gain those extra few pence that will make all the difference to our holiday.
We’re nearly ready though. I have, with the aforementioned M&S vouchers bought a shirt that is one of those that you will only ever wear on holiday, as it is –
White
A bit see through
Built for maxiumum coolness (and I mean temperature, as that boat has long since sailed)
Likely to get you beaten up if you even think about wearing it in Bolton
All I am missing now are my obviously brand new bright white trainers, bum bag and one size too small speedos!! Now there is a mental image to leave you with…
For those too young to understand the reference in the title, your life is poorer for not having embraced the poodle permed, leather trousered, white teethed Lothario that was the lead singer of Europe, Joey Tempest. The title of course refers to their finest hour, well three and a half minutes anyway.
The countdown reference is double barreled. You may have heard me mention that I am due to start a new job? I mentioned it once or twice. I can’t believe that I’ve been saying this since April of course, but next week will be my final week of purgatory, otherwise known as my notice period. This countdown has sort of distracted me from my more important countdown to my ever so special 40th birthday WDW trip. This countdown too is entering the final furlong, with around 40 days to go now.
Last week and the one to come have been a little unusual in that Emily has been with me on work experience. I do find it odd how things work out. When I started work at my current employer, Emily was four, not yet in proper school, and now some ten years later she is in GCSE phase, and how ironic that she is on work experience for my final two weeks.
The experience she has mostly gained in her first week is the mind numbing banality that is the working office. I think it was mid afternoon on her second day when she uttered the fateful phrase “How many hours to go?”. Well, if I calculate that you will start work at say 18, and retire anytime between 55 and 75, I’d say she has a lot of hours to go. Hopefully, it will help her to appreciate school a little more, and follow my one and only piece of advice about school, work and life in general.
That is to find something to do that you enjoy, because if you don’t, work becomes one long interruption to what you’d rather be doing.
Emily’s other contribution to this week has been to be the daughter with a broken heart. They tend to alternate on this one, having met some boy, agreed to go out, and then about seventeen minutes later, break up. This is a little disrespectful I suppose, as this week Emily is very, very upset over some little Oik, and I’m sure at fourteen the world seems to have ended. If only there was some way to inject what you know into them they may not be quite so upset, but I suppose everyone has to go through it. It is not an easy thing to watch though. I should ready myself for lots more to come I guess.
On to more pleasant matters, and I have (I think) decided upon the ticket options. It will, as predicted, be the Magic Your Way Base option for seven days, along with a two park Universal ticket which last for fourteen days, but we’ll only use two. I had more Disney days in the plan, but to keep the ticket spend down to a level that George Osbourne would approve of, I did a quick switcheroo with the plan.
I have tagged an extra day onto our Daytona Beach visit, and rather than do their and back in a day, we are going to do a stay over. This suits Louise a lot, as you may know that she is the first to tire of the Disney parks every year, and she is quite keen on a spot of sunbathing. After a quick trawl of the The Dibb, I had enough info to make some firm plans.
Accommodation wise, the criteria was clean and cost-effective (ie cheap), as we’ll be spending very few hours in it. A name that popped up a fair bit on The Dibb was the Sun Viking Lodge. A quick bit of a google found me a price of less than £50 for a three bedded room (this is key as the girls are not keen on sharing a bed). Having used Quidco, this cash back brought the price to nearer £40!!
The location looks superb, being beachfront, with a decent waterslide and pool, and if the rains come, and indoor pool too. It is also less than five minutes from the baseball park where we have tickets to watch a game on our second evening.
We oughta Water Park
Again, from Dibb research I discovered that Daytona has a waterpark, and this being the activity I had culled from the plan, this seemed like a good option. Even better that upon looking at their web site, the admission for our date was $12 each!!
I am not expecting a Disney experience from our break at the beach. The hotel will not be Vero Beach, and the water park may not live up to Typhoon Lagoon, but it will be good to experience new things, and of course save a few hundred quid into the bargain.
Once I have the new job started, I imagine that I can concentrate more on the holiday, but for now it seems perhaps further away than it is.
So onwards we go into my final week at work for the old regime, and if you can imagine scenes similar to the closing ceremony of the World Cup, or even the last Olympics, these will be the scenes in an office in Bury on Friday. I expect several members of my team to be wailing, tearful wrecks as I try to leave the office with several of them attached to my legs begging me not to leave.
More importantly I will find it hard to leave the office, burdened as I shall be by the vast quantity and size of the leaving presents I shall have bestowed upon me.
Let me remove my tongue from my cheek, and just hope that I can slip away in a peaceful manner with minimal fuss, and then get on with the new job…but only for a few weeks, as I have a holiday booked. I did mention that didn’t I?
You may also have noticed that I have worked out how to embed video into these here posts…be warned!!
The time is drawing close when I need to make my annual trip through the absolute maze that is, buying theme park tickets for our Florida trip. The sheer enormity of the options available are enough to scare anyone, even someone who has been through this as often as I.
The simple stuff is usually Universal, as we only need two days there around our on site stay, and even I can navigate that purchase fairly well. Sea World and Busch have alas not made the final cut this year. Budget plays a part, but really we just don’t have enough days to get to them and do them justice. So the real task is to select the ideal ticket option for WDW.
So that will be a major thrust of my weekend to come, and if you need the internet this weekend I’d get on it early as I may wear it out by late Sunday.
Ticket to Rides
My choice may be swayed by the ever improving dollar rate. Many a day in the preceding months I have toyed with the idea of getting some dollars before the dollar rate dropped any further. Seeing rates at less than 1.4 at one stage was truly depressing. Thankfully, the bank rate seems to be consistently above 1.5, and whilst this is still pretty paltry compared to the freakishly high 1.9 or so we have had on one previous trip, psychologically, getting above the 1.5 makes me feel like I have had a minor victory!
With a better dollar rate I may buy our tickets from a US site in dollars. We shall see. I am tempted by those non hopper things, for the exact amount of days we need, as they are good value, however, they come with several drawbacks.
1. You can’t hop between parks
2. They don’t include water parks and Disney Quest
3. We can’t just pop into a park on a whim for an hour or two, as this will use up a full day
Choices, choices.
How goes your post op recovery Craig? I hear you all say in unison. OK, thanks. I have had better weeks in terms of sleep, mobility and lack of pain, but I seem to be emerging from those woods now, and edging back to something like normal, well as close as I ever got anyway. I got bored of the whole resting and not doing stuff within about two days, and just became really frustrated by not being able to do anything. Now that I can actually do stuff again, the appeal seems to have worn off a little.
The week gone by has seen Emily go to Chester Zoo on her end of year reward trip. The reward was that I was allowed to give the school £17 for the privilege. Speaking of Emily she finishes school this week, as she has a busy few weeks ahead until the official end of term.
Next Monday she starts two weeks work experience. She managed to get a placement at the same place as one of her friends. How did she manage that? Well, because she is coming to where I work. My team is naturally delighted to have the bosses daughter around for a fortnight!!
Once she finishes that, she immediately goes to Berlin on a school trip. This is to support her History GCSE, in which they are covering the Nazis. The itinerary looks great, and I wouldn’t mind going. Seems only fair after sorting her work experience out for her? Then on her return, it is her fifteenth birthday, and of course a few weeks after that we go to Florida.
Some locals Emily may meet
We attended a planning session at the school a few weeks ago to go through the long list of rules, and even worse, stuff they will need to be bought to take with them to Germany. As the group are obviously below eighteen, visiting the proper concentration camps is not an option but they are going to Sachsehausen Concentration Camp which apparently was the place where they trained SS officers to carry out the Final Solution. They are also doing the Stasi Museum, the Wannsee Villa and Checkpoint Charlie amongst lots of other stuff in a very busy week. There will be some light after all that shade as they also visit a waterpark, ten pin bowling and the Olympic Stadium.
Most of my school trips involved a kagool, curled up sandwiches and three hours on a coach to some caves in Yorkshire. Although, I did do one overseas trip to Hamburg to stay with my German pen friend. Everyone in my German class had a pen friend allocated, and they also came over to stay with us. My chap was called Carsten Polland. I wonder where he is now? Germany I am guessing, but you know what I mean. This exchange programme will explain why after three years of study, my grasp of the German language starts and ends with being able to ask for a piece of Black Forest gateaux.
Sounds like a fun summer for Emily. She had better make the most of it though, as next year is her official GCSE year and she will be locked in her bedroom for all of it revising. In case Emily reads this, if you look up the definition of revising, there is no mention whatsoever of Facebook, MSN or iPod. Just so we are clear!
Time to draw this here post to an end now, as I have the house to myself. The girls are out with friends celebrating someone’s birthday. This involves a trip to Manchester (for a change), a visit to see Eclipse, and then a sleepover. The best bit of all of that is that it happens at someone else’s house. Louise is also out, at the hairdressers, which is a double-edged sword. It creates an Xbox opportunity, but also creates a huge dent in the bank balance. Life is never simple!
I’m off work today. This is because yesterday I underwent a touch of surgery. Nothing major, well, major enough to need a general anaesthetic, and a few frayed nerves, but I’m up and about today, if a little gingerly, with more dressings than Paul Newman.
The day started early, and not without nerves. Upon arrival, insult was added to potential injury when I was instructed to put on my gown, which is understandable, but what are the medical benefits of paper underwear? I think they are just used as a source of comedy whilst you are asleep. They certainly are not built for comfort I can tell you.
It has to be one of the oddest sensations and experiences in life to be put under. Some stranger wanders up, sticks a needle in your hand and talks to you like some sort of begowned Paul McKenna. However, this was not to be the only odd conversation of the day. As the theatre nurse came to collect me, we walked down to theatre, and she struck up a conversation no doubt intended to put me at ease. Of course this started with the weather, but then turned into a very bizarre (one sided) conversation about her recently acquired paddling pool for her kids. This went on for a good ten minutes, lasting all the way until I got onto the slab.
I now know the relative benefits of your solid framed affair compared to the traditional blow up model. This is amazing really as my mind was obviously elsewhere, as we were sat in a little room just outside theatre, and I could see and hear stuff going on next door that was quite distracting.
Anyway, back to my drifting off. I’m sure they have a standard script for these occasions, as he gave me all the usual warnings about feeling a small prick in my hand (which I thought was a little forward as we had only just met) and then that I might feel some cold in my hand. Then as I started to feel a strange tingling all over, he was telling me all about some lovely warm beach I was on, and that the oxygen mask on my face was really a scuba mask, and I was drifting along looking at fish and stuff……
That is where I left that conversation, as the next thing I knew my name was being called out by some nurse who was all blurry. Mighty relieved to be awake again, a quick squirt of pain killers and a bumpy trip back to my room brought things to an end. Within an hour or two I was fairly normal again, enjoying my lunch and having my dressings done, however, not at the same time. How I am looking forward to having them all removed, as they made a great job of attaching some sticky tape to every hair on my body!!
I was allowed home around 4.30pm, and enjoyed every pot hole on the endless drive home (Louise was driving not me!!). I then ate the largest McDonald’s known to man as I was starving.
So I have a few weeks of being trussed up whilst stuff heals, but I am told I should be fine to go to work on Monday. Hmm, we’ll see!!
Luckily I managed to get this done before my new job starts, and of course before our holiday.
Having time on my hands at the moment, I stumbled across something that really made me think on the internet. No, nothing like that!!! One of Rebecca’s friends had posted some old photos, and it seems that we officially had the cutest child in the universe. Well we had two, but I only have photographic proof of one at my disposal for this post.
It is strange that this feels like just yesterday, but on the other hand seems like a lifetime ago.
Cuteness v1Cuteness v2
So if any of you have children around this age, not too long from now you will wake up and find out that they have turned into something like the photo at the foot of this post.
Ok, she's still cute!
Right, I’m off to make the most of not being able to do anything, although I think I can manage to manipulate the Xbox controller!!
A pretty uneventful week in the Williams household to be honest so I expect this to be a brief.
They're Coming Home, they're coming home....
First, I should comment on the football. After the glorious anti climax of the first game, the entire nation was built up to expect some sort of cricket score against the Algerians. Well, I can safely say that the game was probably the worst performance by an England side in my memory. I have no idea what was going on, but there were footballers there who looked like average Sunday league players, after a particularly heavy Saturday night.
Louise has taken to watching the England games with me. This is not conducive to matrimonial harmony, as when my team is not doing well I become mono syllabic and grumpy. Louise famously came into the front room during the 2005 Champions League penalty shoot out, with me on my knees, two feet from the TV, praying. She wanted to ask me to do something like feed the cat or something equally important before I came up to bed.
My less than pleasant response meant I enjoyed tongue and cold shoulder for the next few days. The enormity of those occasions are understandably lost on those that do not “get” football.
On Friday, I was quite upset and angry about the whole thing. The sheer audacity of the England players to perform so badly was shocking. The enjoyment of these major tournaments is based upon having the odd win, or at this stage, I’d settle for a goal or two to celebrate.
I suspect though, as usual, having disappointed so well, they will pull it out of the bag in the last game and get through. Although, after Friday’s game, I am struggling to see how that would be possible for the same players to be less crap!
Enough football (until we win a game anyway).
Saturday night saw us attending a 40th birthday party for a friend of mine. I have known him from school, and we started our first band together at the age of sixteen, and continued to be local pop stars well into our twenties, until jobs, families and hair lines started to become bigger (or smaller for the latter) parts of our lives.
We’ve only seen each other a few times over the past ten years, and always finish these occasions with promises of more regular outings, so it was lovely to meet up again, along with other members of various bands from our history. An evening was spent remembering all the toilets we played, some of the weirder band members we accumulated through the years, and if I’m honest more than a small urge to dust off the black leather trousers and rock some ear-splitting riffs. For those not in the know that means play some music together.
I doubt it will happen to be honest, as we all have lives full of work, families and a lack of motivation to cart a load of gear to a cold rehearsal room on a Sunday morning, but you never know.
We looked just like this....honest!
I took along some vouchers for Simon’s present, but I also stumbled across an old band photo in a drawer, so I framed it and took that along. We all had our best moody pop star stares on, and more crucially full heads of hair. None of that stopped us looking ridiculous of course, but we were enjoying ourselves.
Luckily for you I don’t have an electronic copy of this (or any other photo) as all this was well before digital cameras, but just use your imagination to conjure up the image of five young blokes all in black, with mood lighting and sexy scowls.
It was very easy to get back into the old routine with everyone. Playing in a band does bring you together differently than other friendships, and had there been a collection of instruments strewn around the room, plugged in, tuned and sound-checked (just like there always is on Glee, Fame etc) we may well have performed a few of the old classics. Sadly there were not so we had to sit and listen to some ex Red Rose Radio DJ pump out everything from Chain Reaction to the inevitable sixties medley. Rest assured I did not endanger the dance floor, other than to wander over and say good-bye to Simon and his wife at the end of the night.
This time we really should get together before Simon’s 50th!!
Apologies for the brevity today. I shall promise to blog again before the week is out, you have been warned.
Have I mentioned that I’m working my notice? Maybe once or twice.
Now of course this has not affected the level of professionalism, dedication and commitment I exude at all times….much. Well it has a bit, and this was demonstrated on Thursday when I attended a meeting in Sheffield. Firstly, I was quite impressed with myself that I could motivate myself to go, and not delegate it to someone who gives a sh…I mean one of my guys who would benefit from the learning and development opportunity.
You see, there we have an example of the first thrust of this here blog post. Corporate bull$hit. Please do pardon my French but it is called for I feel. The business world it seems is littered with people who have been brainwashed into using it, or even more scarily, actually use this stuff and believe it.
Looking back at my notes from this meeting, it seems I didn’t make a great deal of them, as I got bored relatively early on, which in any other circumstances would have been risky, as the attendees where chock full of cheese. We had to do that cringeworthy round the table introduce yourself thing, which inevitably turns into a battle of the job title.
There were a couple of MDs (one of them mine), many Heads of (yep, regrettably I had to cough to one of those), and many other job titles that I still don’t know what they mean. Most like I, just said our name, job title and company, but there is always the odd one or two who launch into a ten minute monologue on their responsibilities, experience and how they were a prefect at school. You see now why I was bored so early on?
So rather than watch the powerpoint slides I started to capture all the bull$hit bingo terms that I heard. There were many of the common ones that I hear all the time….
Model, best fit, and my personal favourite, synergy! One of the guys was obviously a serial meeting attendee, and revelled in the concept, insisting on capturing the “Expectations” of the meeting before we started. My contribution of “Finishing early enough so the M62 isn’t the bag of spanners it is at rush hour” didn’t make it to the flip chart though.
I see one entry on my notes underlined and ringed a few times. It is a new entry in my dictionary of dreariness. Are you ready?
Glide Path. Yep, you read that right. What the bloody hell does glide path mean? I know what he wants it to mean, but why not just say it?? It was right up there with another classic, Helicopter View.
Is that you CJ?
In terms of popularity, there was no competition, it was the term “piece”. In nearly every sentence you heard it. How? Like this. How do we tackle the “insert any topic here” piece? Have we thought about the “insert any topic here” piece? To me this is like someone dragging their nails down a blackboard.
It was like living in an episode of The Office or Reginald Perrin (for the older readers). I do feel like I don’t belong in this universe of Austin Reed open necked shirt wearing, ego waving, sanctimony, but alas I must as I have a mortgage, kids and an addiction to expensive holidays.
So we move onto the end of the week, and the World Cup started. We are “beaming” matches throughout the office for all staff to enjoy. Beaming may be over egging the technology, but it sounds impressive when explaining this to people. In truth, we have scattered a few tellys, and a couple of projectors around the place, securing the best stuff for the area close to my desk of course. There is no point in managing the IT department if you don’t get any perks is there?
So on Friday we watched the opening game, (whilst obviously working a full speed as well). A good game, and it whetted the appetite nicely for our opening game last night. After the usual over the top build up by the media, the millions spent on advertising cheap beer and crisps by the supermarkets, the country wakes up this morning to a massive hangover, and a sense of deflation. Only a 6-0 win would have matched the expectations of the nation, and 1-1 draw leaves everyone feeling a little let down.
You can never enjoy watching England to be honest. However I thought there were a lot of positives, and I’m sure we will get better as we go. Frankly the next two games should be formalities and should give us some confidence for the next phase.
Now, what would one of these be without a bit of a rant? Luckily it just so happens I have one. Saturday afternoon saw us at Tesco, against my better judgement. I had done the “big shop” late on Friday night at our local 24 hour Asda, and it was a dream. It was basically me and a load of people with the munchies or who had run out of beer, and it was great to hold up about twenty people with just two items whilst I checked out a full shop!
Anyway, back to Tesco. We needed ” a few bits” which is female talk for stuff we could do without, but absolutely won’t. We had a hand basket, and all the checkouts were crammed full of England tops buying cheap beer and crisps, so we went to one of those self-serve things.
Amen!
My God, what an abomination. It took us about twenty minutes to check out a dozen items. The assistant patrolling the area may have well have just done the whole lot for us as she was over every other item, entering her password. It took her a while to believe that I was over 25 for the alcohol purchase, but other than that we couldn’t find Lemons on the alphabetic list of fruits (so that went in the bag for free), and nearly every other item became an “unexpected item in the bagging area” or just wouldn’t scan.
Technology at its best! I left with high blood pressure, a desire to never darken Tesco’s door again, and a free lemon! So, I’d call that a result.
I just need to point out that our fridge has broken. I appreciate the nine o’clock news will not be troubled by this news but it has really naffed me off.
It isn’t even the main function of the fridge which has broken. It simply will not dispense water from the fancy water dispenser thing in the door. After a bit of Googling on the subject the water tank may be frozen. I’ve turned up the temperature a bit and we’ll see what happens.
The reason this irks me is that there seems these days to be a constant stream of stuff breaking. A symptom I suppose of having so many gadgets and gizmos (I have them aplenty as my favourite Mermaid might say). Last week it was Rebecca’s netbook, before that Louise’s car, and next week it will be something else….so just to set the lovely jolly tone for this post, I am not in the finest of moods.
I do of course appreciate that there are many things worse than these minor incidents, but I reserve the right to be in a strop. OK?
Breathe!
As I mentioned in my last post, I am in milestone mode, and the arrival of June is another on the road to our holidays.
I know the start of June isn’t officially the start of summer, but in my mind it is, as traditional summer stuff happens in June, like Wimbledon, the World Cup, and this year the paying of the balance on our villa. See, so that last one proves that we are close now….right?? S’funny how usually the thought of dumping hundreds of pounds fills me with dread, (especially on netbooks, cars and fridges) but the cheque sent off today was written with a smile on my face, but looking back, a pen would have made things a whole lot easier.
Of course my notice period rumbles on endlessly, and this in no way meant that last week I spent most of it on the internet watching news events unfold, like the World Cup Squad “announcement” (I’ll come back to this in a minute), Rafa Benitez leaving Liverpool, and Rio Ferdinand getting injured.
For all of these, I think they all showed that the way in which news is relayed is changing (or perhaps has already changed) forever. Yes, for years the web has been a source of news from official sources, and most people would go to the BBC site for “official news”, but the advent of Twitter is the real change agent here.
News breaks on Twitter first now, and you can find out things much more quickly there than via any official news channel. To be honest, this will now be the way in which the official sources are getting first wind of news breaking. With an application like Tweetdeck, as soon as you are vaguely aware of an event, you can create a search column based on any term (I created a “Ferdinand” one and within seconds I had unofficial news of his injury, and that he would miss the World Cup, hours before it was official) and watch people, often on the spot, report on an event.
This meant that the “announcement” of the squad for the World Cup was actually a stream of tweets spread over the day, meaning that by the time the FA posted any sort of official announcement everyone knew the outcome. Even the unfortunate footballers left out, like Darren Bent, tweeted how gutted he was about three hours before it was official. It does amaze me how this isn’t thought of by bodies like the FA. This new fandangled internet thing has changed how stuff works, and they can’t send some bloke out in a blazer with a piece of paper to read stuff out anymore.
I do find this stuff interesting, which is odd, as really I have become familiar with it (or had to) due to the nature of my job, and it is very unlike me to like anything connected with my job. It will still be relevant to my new one too, probably more so, as that is much more closely connected to how people use the internet on mobile devices, and twitter, specifically to report stuff as it happens, is one of the major ways in which people do and will use their mobile. It may not be Twitter specifically, but how many of us update Facebook on the move? This is just news for our friends and connections rather then being about some overpaid fop tweaking a knee.
I know those following me on Twitter will be endlessly enthralled with news on lawn mowing, my tea and where I am dropping the girls off today.
Anyway, I digress…I’m not sure from what, but it felt like I did.
As we creep ever closer to departure, the sacrifice scale increases. What do I mean? Well, there are times when at weekend we would like nothing more than to go out for a meal or three, buy this or that, but with dollars to acquire, and the worst exchange rate in the history of the world ever (OK, perhaps I exaggerate) we have to hunker down, and have a few boring weekends. Even I, with my blind obsession for WDW feel this pain, and it can get quite frustrating. Ultimately though it is worth it, well it is when we are there. When we are tied to the couch enduring some bloke cut wood on Britain’s Got Talent I could quite easily give away a large sum of cash just for someone to make it stop.
Just put the dish IN the dishwasher.....
The girls have no issue in not doing a lot. In fact, if it were an Olympic event I would enter them both. We have recently decided that the handouts of seemingly unending cash is to stop, and they shall earn some spends each week. I’m not saying they are on their hands and knees singing Hard Knock Life, but little things like keeping their rooms recognisable as a room, a bit of hoovering and perhaps even managing to get the odd dish into the dishwasher rather than just leaving it either wherever it fell, or at best on the kitchen worktop, will make the house a happier place.
In this way they can fund their trips to Manchester, where they congregate with other Emo types, and stalk boys. We’ve already had our first “upset” over them both liking the same boy, but it didn’t last long, and to their credit they agreed that being sisters was more important, and they moved on. Emily has decided that she doesn’t want a boyfriend at the moment, and has recently turned down one boy, which quite upset Louise and I as we think he is great! He is now going out with one of Emily’s friends instead…how fickle these boys are!!
Mirror, mirror on the wall.....
Rebecca on the other hand definitely does want a boyfriend, and seems to have a different one each week, but most of them are mainly over Facebook.
She changes her status one way or another, for one boy or another, most times not even having actually been “out” with them. Bless her, she is finding her feet, and is ever so slightly conscious of her looks at the moment so we have to walk on egg shells most of the time.
At the risk of sounding like a biased Dad, if only she knew how beautiful she was…..same goes for Emily who has so little confidence in how she looks it is scary.
On another totally unrelated topic (why change the habit of a blog-time), it is looking like we will have three Dibb meets whilst in the US. Now, again, this is a sign of how life has been changed by the internet. Even when the internet was established in our lives the prospect of meeting people from off of the internet would have been a bit odd.
Through a mutual love of WDW we have met some lovely people, and we are pleased to call them friends now (not sure what they call us though). Our three meets this year consist of two regulars, Jakki (TinkTatoo) and her family, and Margaret (gala) and two of her kids.
Jakki is leaving Florida on our first day, so we have a very limited window of opportunity. We’ve arranged to meet at the Main Street Bakery in Magic Kingdom. We shall try not to gloat too much at their impending departure, but to be honest, they will have been in the US for about six months anyway, so my sympathy will be limited!!
Margaret happens to be staying at the Hard Rock Hotel on the same night, so we’ve arranged to meet at the pool bar for cocktails. There is nothing in the theory I can see you formulating that these meets are taking place around cakes and cocktails. They are simply the most convenient locations available!!
I’ve also got a yet to be fully arranged arrangement to meet up with Andy (Woody) as he is staying at the Beach Club at the same time as us. Again, I suspect this will be alcohol based. Having met Andy several times already (virtually) whilst playing Call of Duty on the Xbox, I’ll just have to look out for the bloke in the army uniform, fully armed, shooting at people.
Having also struck up a now fairly long lasting friendship with Mike Jones, and latterly his wife Amanda, based on a web site, I come back to my theme of stuff changing how we live our lives. It could very well be the case that my girls meet their future partners courtesy of the internet, and for their generation, any stigma we may or may not have about that will have long gone. They spend half their waking lives on the thing so the odds of a relationship starting there is pretty good. Don’t worry we’ve had the “conversation” about nasty folks etc……
This brings me to a parting thought, on this topic of change, that I don’t think I’ve shared with you yet, but I may have so apologies if so, but it is very relevant here. The headmaster at the girls’ school said that around 40% of the pupils now at school will do a job that hasn’t yet been invented.
I’m pretty sure I have mentioned that already, but hey ho, you are not paying to read this drivel!!
In life only change is constant. Someone clever said that, and it wasn’t me. My favourite piece of wisdom, that I really did invent is, In the great block of flats of life, one man’s ceiling is another man’s floor. Think about it.
I have been incredibly lucky. Don’t get me wrong, at times I have also been incredibly unlucky, but the luck I refer to being good is that since 1999 I have been able to go on holiday to my favourite place more or less every year.
So in some respects, each year follows a similar pattern as the countdown does exactly that. Depending on how early we book, I mentally tick off certain landmarks of the year as they pass. If we booked nice and early, then this mean Christmas, Easter, and then as we get into summer, the passing of Rebecca and Emily’s respective birthdays in May and July tell me that we are getting close.
During a countdown that is usually months long, some weeks I don’t really think about our holiday. I know it is there, like a long term promise, don’t get me wrong, but other life stuff takes over, and I am swept along with it. The business of life doesn’t really impact this, as some other weeks I can do little else but think about our upcoming trip, even if I am rushed off my feet at work.
I suppose this is the main difference between “normal” holiday makers and those who see it as more than just two weeks away. A trip to Florida is pricey. You can’t get away from that, but to coin a phrase, it is the holiday that keeps on giving.
With the level of preparation and planning required over things like –
Flights
Accommodation (often several different places each trip)
Park Tickets – A million different combinations
Dining Reservations
Car Hire
and a host of other things, it can be, and some days is, a full time job.
Then upon returning to the UK, if you are so inclined (and I am) you can then continue to enjoy the holiday for weeks and months to come. This, for me, takes the form of writing my trip reports. This takes a while, and I usually don’t finish mine until late October.
Then, often the cycle starts again, as the next trip begins to cross my mind!
I know that many of you visiting my blog do so (very kindly) as you have read and hopefully enjoyed some of these trip reports. This means that all this will probably make sense to you. I do of course understand that there are those outside this “club” that simply don’t get it.
Holidays for those not of this mind set, can be a very simple affair, and they certainly would never dream of writing about it when they got back!! That’s OK. I am not in any way criticising anyone for this. I fully understand that I am not normal!
I have given up trying to explain to non believers what this is all about. Disney is only for young kids, it is a theme park (singular) like Alton Towers, and isn’t something that adults could enjoy for two weeks, with or without kids. I have heard this a million times. As I say, no point arguing. Besides, the more people who don’t get it, the shorter the queue for Soarin!! If someone calls the Florida version Disneyland then you know they don’t get it at all!!!!
Last week has been one of the weeks when I have been thinking about the next trip. Aside from stressing about the abysmal exchange rate, I have been fine tuning the plan, and browsing various web sites, trying to inject a little of the Disney magic into an unseasonably cold and windy UK week.
I am re-reading for about the four hundredth time a couple of the Disney books we have hanging around. This all helps.
But why? What is it that keeps drawing us back?
Well, if I could put my finger on that, I could sell it, and make a fortune. All I can do is perhaps try to express how the place makes you feel.
In my rational mind, I fully understand that Disney is very much a for profit organisation. I can see the business elements hidden behind the magic, even as I hand over my handful of dollars, which I know is probably inflated for the privilege of spending them on their hallowed turf, but I don’t mind at all.
And so it begins....
Disney is built on nostalgia, on the legacy of generations, and of course family. It is a haven from the madness of the real world, and a sanctuary for a family to escape to, and make some memories. The beauty of their business model is that we market to ourselves. For me, I was hooked early. I first went when I was ten, in 1980. We actually stayed in Miami, but drove up Orlando to spend two days at the Magic Kingdom, and the rest is history.
Now, WDW is a common language spoken by the extended family. I am by far the most addicted, but we’ve invested thirty years and unimaginable amounts of money in the place, and this means that every time we go back, we stumble across a memory, a half remembered episode of a previous trip that sparks a warm glow, or in some rare cases a shudder!! But the latter are very few and far between. Disney have somehow found a way, like childbirth, of having their guests forget about the time when they queued for Dumbo for two hours and had a one minute ride, or spent a day in a park when it was so busy you couldn’t see the pavement below your feet.
The special memories, and the place they hold in the hearts of my family are unique, emotive and unforgettable. I may be an extreme case, but I feel many things as I step onto Disney property –
Safe
Comfortable
Happy
Relaxed
Privileged
A heck of a pull.
I don’t have a favourite park, but the essence of the experience for me is the Magic Kingdom. Every penny that a trip costs is paid back on the first morning stroll up Main Street. The castle seems to draw everyone up Main Street towards it like some sort of friendly tractor beam, using smells unique to this one place on earth, sights that are both familiar yet ever exciting, and perhaps this is the crux of the experience, friendly, engaging, welcoming and highly professional Cast Members.
If you read any of the many books on the market that talk about some of the behind the scenes elements to how all this works, you know that the level of detail, and the attention to it is a massive part in the chasm between WDW and UK theme parks. Every smell, note of music and each blade of grass is there for a reason, and is controlled to be exactly as they want it to be.
This is where the detractors can be heard to bemoan the manufactured sterile nature of the place. I can understand that point of view. To be honest though, I live fifty weeks of the year in the non manufactured, natural, uncontrolled environment, and frankly, most of the time it sucks. With that in mind, I can suspend belief and normality quite easily and allow myself to be swept along with the magic.
I also think that there are two (well, there are hundreds, but bear with me) main types of holiday to WDW. Both are wonderful, and can honestly be a once in a lifetime (every year!), but they are different. This is where my Disney snobbery raises its head, be warned.
The first type of holiday is the one most probably undertaken by everyone going for the first time. If you haven’t stumbled across one of the many Florida planning forums you will still have a great time, but perhaps only skim the surface of the place and I have known people return from this type of trip and be less than impressed. One family we know were a case in point.
I spent not an inconsiderable amount of time writing up a series of tips, recommendations and things to avoid, all of which they seemed to ignore. Their main priority seemed to be that the hotel had a bar!! Having holidayed in the Med for years, their holiday focussed on the pool and as much alcohol as they could imbibe. Wow, I do sound snobby here, but let me explain.
Ironically had they read my tips, they may well have discovered an angle to Disney that not many do. One of the multiple faces of Disney, in their unending ability to morph themselves into the exact experience you are after, is the night time entertainment at places like Jellyrolls or Pleasure Island at Downtown Disney (which was still open when they visited).
As I type this, Louise is in the kitchen pursuing her hobby of ironing, and whilst she does she has Meatloaf blaring out. Right now the song playing only means one thing to me, and that is Jellyrolls. Paradise by the Dashboard Light is not a song I was really aware or fond of earlier in my life, and Meatloaf is by no means a regular on my iPod, but having had a couple of fantastic nights at Jellyrolls, this song now takes me there, and I can almost smell and taste the place, right here on my sofa in Bolton.
Disney even make getting drunk slightly magical, and classy, and you don’t really see that advertised on the telly…but it’s there if you know where to look.
So this second type of holiday is the one that sees the extra bits of Florida, the slightly more hidden gems of WDW, and you only tend to find out about these from –
Someone who has been there and discovered them
Knowledgeable folks on the internet
Guide books
For me it was a mix of all three, but I was pointed in the right direction by a colleague who had been a DVC member for years. He dropped the bombshell that you can wander around Disney resorts whether you are staying there or not. This opened my eyes, and the door to many hours of doing just that. With appetite whetted, my thirst was quenched with endless hours of internet use and book reading, and like most things, you only realise what you know when you try to explain it to someone else.
In the case of the family I gave the tips to, I wish I hadn’t bothered.
As my colleague often quotes now, using a Star Wars analogy, back then I was the young Jedi to his Obi Wan. I have since spent many metaphorical years in the swamps with Yoda and I am now the one telling him about new things, and old, which I have discovered, and we can easily spend too many hours in the office swapping stories and experiences from our trips.
The real trick that Disney, and of course the rest of Florida have up their sleeve is that there is still so much to discover that despite all my trips and research, I still don’t know what I don’t know yet, and if I went every year for the rest of my life (what do you mean if!!) I would still find new things every time.
I’m not really sure why I have felt the need to write this post. I think it is undoubtedly part of the countdown process, and a rock to cling to in the seemingly unending passage of days to the next trip. I still don’t feel that I have managed to explain any part of why I feel like I do, and that is eternally frustrating.
There we have it I suppose. If what Disney did was easy, then everyone would do it. For their attention to detail, unending pursuit of excellence, insistence on quality, and the undefinable essence of magic, I salute them, thank them, and ask them to put the kettle on, as we won’t be long now.
This working your notice lark is tedious beyond compare.
Not only am I now handing over longer term projects to other suckers…I mean colleagues, as I won’t be here to see them through, but I am also trying to get my head around my new job too. So in effect, I’m busier than usual when you may think a notice period is a time for late starts, early finishes and lots of internet browsing.
Naturally, I have partaken quite heavily in all three of those activities too, as I am slowly turning down my give-a shit-ability for my old/current role. That is easier said than done though, as ten years is a long time, and I have literally done the whole blood sweat and tears stuff trying to do a decent job for almost all of that time. Stopping that, and “letting go” is tough.
So I’m four weeks in, and have another eight to do. Sigh.
It’s funny after working somewhere for ten years that once you have taken the massive step of politely telling them where to stick their god awful job (ahem), your mind starts to wonder about the small things, the changes in routine that a new job means. Let me list a few, as we haven’t had a list of any sort for a good few posts now…
The commute – I could do the calculations for how many times I have driven to and from my office, but frankly even I am not that bored…give me another few weeks though and I’ll know the exact number. Anyway, my point is that I know the route, and the exact time required in all weather conditions and at all times of year down to the nearest second. My new job is roughly an equal distance away but obviously a different route. On the first day I shall have to leave before I go to bed to make sure I am not late!
The school run – My current job allows me to eject the kids at Grandmas each morning for their breakfast before school. My new one probably won’t so we shall have to trust the little bleeders to get themselves out of the house unaided to catch a bus. At thirteen and (soon to be) fifteen you would hope we can be confident of that…..
My fitness – You may well know I am renowned for my athleticism, toned physique and all round hunkiness, and this is due to a lunchtime ritual, usually three or four times a week in the gym at the hotel next door to my office. Alas, this will no longer be possible in the new job, so despite the upside of saving £30 a month on the membership, I may well be thirty stone by Christmas!
My ability to do the job – A strange one you may think, but I feel I have made a decent fist of the current job, and have risen meteorically through the ranks over the last ten years, or more accurately, avoided being found out and sacked. Starting a new role, at a new company, doing something pretty different is ever so slightly worrying.
Didn't Jules Rimet play for Bolton?
There are a thousand other little niggles, and being frank, this seemingly endless notice period is just giving me more time to fester over them.
By the time I start my new job England may have won the World Cup (and I don’t mean cricket), Wimbledon will have happened, the girls will more or less have finished another school year, and Katie Price, after becoming pregnant with triplets, will have had a third boob installed so she can feed all three at once whilst posing for her OK shoot.
So whilst I have always been quite satisfied with my three months notice period, thinking that the buggers will need to throw me a load of cash if they wanted to make me redundant, I am now on the flip side of that, contemplating insulting the MD or assaulting someone in the canteen to secure an early exit.
Minor criminal acts aside, it looks like I am here till mid July.
On a totally unrelated topic, the annual ritual of desperately trying to lose a pound or two in order that I don’t need to buy any new holiday clothes has begun. For most of the year, my trips to the gym are really just used to allow me to eat unlimited amounts of trash at weekend without ending up being winched through my front window. Now that the time approaches where I actually need to be seen in public in a T Shirt and shorts, I have to reign back the calorie intake for the next few weeks/months.
The Boys are Back in the Barracks
Louise berates me every year to invest in new holiday gear, especially shorts. Yes I may have had them for many a year, but I only wear them say twice each in a fortnight, so in elapsed wearing time they are probably the newest items of clothes I own.
If you’ve seen the Alan Partridge episode involving his shorts then I have some way to go until my boys are out of the barracks! However many of my shorts are considerably older than Justin Bieber, but then again most things are.
They are also more entertaining too, but that’s another story.
What I haven’t done for a while is comment on the films we have watched courtesy of our Tesco DVD Rental club thing. This weekend we had a couple that were enjoyable. We started on with Law Abiding Citizen with Gerard Butler (who Louise fancies).
I had high hopes for this one, and it did keep my attention with a plot full of twists and turns, however it did start to stretch the bounds of realism after ten minutes. I have no issue with that….I have after all watched Con Air more than once, but it just turned into a very different film than I expected.
We then settled in for what turned out to be the marathon that is 2012. I had a feeling it was a long one, but did not expect the two and half hour marathon that followed. Again, an enjoyable action packed film that more or less justified the numb bum caused by the length of it. Of the two films, I’d say this was the more popular in the Williams household.
I hear there is to be a vacancy on Film 2010 after Mr Ross leaves the BBC. Surely I am a cert for that role with such insightful film reviews?
I don’t think any other post to date has taken such a windy route from one unrelated topic to another, so it is probably best to draw to a close now.
As we sneak under the 100 day marker, I thought I’d just post a brief update as to the plans etc.
As you can see from my Dibb Planner (and by the way these planner things are excellent) our plans for August are starting to come together.
The only diamond Louise will see this year....
Most days are now mapped out, a few ADRs booked, and most recently we’ve decided to spend a day at Daytona Beach, then that evening watch the Daytona Cubs baseball team. We’ve been threatening to do so for a few years now, so we’ve finally taken the plunge.
I looked at the Tampa Rays, who are Major League, but we’ve plumped for a minor league game (as it is about ten times cheaper) but also as a bit of research suggests these minor league games have a great atmosphere. At $33 for the four of us, if ten minutes in the females are bored to death I don’t mind leaving. Had we paid the $70 each for Major League I would have nailed them to their seats till the bitter end!!
ADR wise, after saying I wouldn’t be booking (m)any we have ended up with –
Yak And Yeti, to round off our day at AK
Kouzzinna on the evening of my birthday
Captain’s Grille for an unfeasibly large breakfast
California Grill for the last night of our hols.
We last did Cali Grill about ten years ago, and the kids, having spent what we thought would be a rest day at Blizzard Beach, were knackered, and spent the meal either moaning, asleep, or trying to go to sleep, and we didn’t exactly appreciate the ambience etc.
Now with the girls being 15 and 13 at the time of this trip, I suspect it will be the other way round.
Hopefully with a 7.50 reservation, and Wishes at 10pm, we might be able to see the fireworks at the end of the meal. I remember hearing something about the viewing of fireworks having changed at Cali Grill…anyone know for sure what the score is?
Anyway, there isn’t much else to plan.
I’m just waiting for the dollar rate to behave itself so I can book my tickets and get some spends.
As my trepidation filled previous post outlined, we were off to Drayton Manor on Saturday, and this meant a fairly painful early start to the day. I was personally up at 6.30, and after a quick shower I was then stuck with the job of waking up Emily, Rebecca and Nat (Rebecca’s friend) in an attempt to get to the park before lunchtime.
They were pretty good to be honest, and we left the house at 8am, only half an hour later than I felt would be ideal. The SatNav predicted just under two hours, which should be fine for a 10am opening. Indeed yes, we arrive at 9.40 (what do you mean I must have broken the speed limit?) and with a complete lack of queue, caused by the sub zero temperatures and what turned out to be constant drizzle for the entire day, we are into the park just before 10.
Medieval Fringes
How happy I was to learn then that the rides did not open until 10.30!! So we wander about a bit and try to kill some time and get our bearings. With the cold starting to turn apendages blue, we seek out an indoor space to cower in for half an hour. A hot drink each sets us back the best part of a tenner, and we wait for stuff to be open.
We then wander outside and see rides starting up, and decide to do a nice gentle one to get everyone warmed up. It was a sort of Octupus style thing, but with Mexican Hats!! Yes, I know. A decent enough ride, apart from the fact that the bucket seats were filled with an inch or two of rain. When asked if they were going to wipe the seats down, the “cast member” shrugged and walked back to the hut he started the ride from.
So with moist bottoms, we endure the ride as the wetness made its way north. Nice start.
The Terror of a Tower
Rebecca has turned into an absolute fear free zone in theme parks, and is not happy to realise that Nat, and to some extent Emily are less than daring with every ride. This also impacts on me as I am now dragged onto the Apocalypse ride with Rebecca.
Don’t get me wrong, I like most rides and fear very few, but I am less than keen on the ones that take you up a couple of hundred feet and just drop you to the floor. Indeed, as we find ourselves walking straight on to the ride, and making our way up the tower (how bloody high does this go???) I did turn to Rebecca and tell her that I hated her!!
She looked less than convinced that this was a great idea, but of course it was all too late now. Sat at the top of the tower, having left my glasses with the attendant, I can make out rough shapes below, and it seems Louise was one of them, waving with a very wicked smile on her face.
Those few seconds before realease were pure hell. What few muscles I possess, I had them tensed. Then, the fall happened. My God.
Feeling just a little sick, we stagger back to the other cowardly lot, and mentally make a note that we don’t need to do that ride again.
The rest of the day is spent trying to avoid hyperthermia, and the heaviest of the rain. They have some decent rides, like G Force, although the loading capacity is shocking, and the ride very short. The girls enjoyed the pirate ship thing too.
It is very obvious that someone from Drayton has been to Florida. There are some things that have been lifted almost directly.
They have the shark hanging upside down thing, just like Universal, and a couple of rides are sort of “own brand” equivalents of US rides. The Happy Feet 4D cinema thing is sort of like Philharmagic/Shrek 4D, but just less good! As an example, during the show it won’t surprise you to learn that the seats move, and some water is sprayed on you. We sat on the front row, and I wondered why every time the audience screamed at getting wet I was wasn’t.
As I left the show I realised why. The jet of water was aimed perfectly at my crotch. A large target area I grant you, but I spent the rest of the day looking like I had poor bladder control.
The ultimate rip off though is the Pirate’s Adventure ride. The attempted similarities to Pirates of the Carribean are beyond uncanny, from the entrance/queue, to the boats, even down to the scenes as you go around. The scene with the dog holding the keys is identical, although the dog at Drayton is a goat….yeh, we couldn’t work that out either.
It really is a complete rip off, scene by scene, just on a crapper level, with much poorer execution.
Is that lamp portable, I'm freezing?
The zoo is OK. The highlight of the day was the reptile house. The reason being it was lovely and warm, and we spent a long time in there!
I am aware that my level of negativity isn’t good, and it might sound snobby to say that if you hadn’t been to WDW, you might not have the same opinion. Snobby it may be but I think it is true. I can’t help that really.
As expected the staff were young kids, with little or no interest in the guests, just going through the motions. This is the essence of the difference between the UK and US experience. No-one was rude really, just bored, cold and looking forward to going home, which spookily is how we felt too.
To be fair, Rebecca enjoyed the rides, so in terms of her birthday outing it was fine, and gladly she and Emily took it all in the right spirit. Yes, we know it isn’t Florida, but we’ll make the best of it. Maybe some day they can teach me that level of maturity!
I tweeted a couple of times during and after the day, and I was mildy impressed to find that Drayton Manor has replied to one tweet where I said…
“Back from Drayton Manor, kerrriiiist it was cold!! Dominos ordered, heating on. If I say I’m going to a UK theme park again, shoot me”.
They said…
“That seems a little drastic, maybe just wait for the summertime when it’s warmer?!”
Girls just wanna have fun....
I’m sure a warmer, drier day would make all the difference, but then again, that would mean higher crowds, and the prospect of a long queue for the rides there would just upset me more! Alas, the weather is not the issue really. It is the fact that all UK theme parks (that I have visited) are tacky, a bit dirty, have surly staff and charge more than their US counterparts, which are none of those things.
This I think also contributes to that glazed, knowing expression you see on people’s face when you tell them you are going to Florida (for the umpteenth time). The lack of comprehension is palpable, and it is clear they try to reconcile their knowledge of UK themeparks with flying for nine hours to spend two weeks in one.
It is like saying you are going watching the local Sunday League footy match, when you’ve been a season ticket holder in the Premiership. The concept is the same, but the standard and the execution is woefully inferior. This of course doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the Sunday League match, but given a choice most would choose the Premiership…especially if it was costing you the same to watch both!!
I fear I am a lost cause, probably not representative of most visitors to a UK theme park, and looking at their Twitter feed, they do indeed have lots of positive feedback from customers after their visits. So maybe the quality of the park is not the problem, maybe it is my expectations?
Oh yes, we always had some sort of political event this week too, but I don’t have the time, knowledge or will to comment on this trivia when a major event like a chance to slag off a UK theme park has presented itself!!
All I will say is that I have found the events quite riveting, which is probably quite sad….anyway…
This Friday (tomorrow as I write this) it is Rebecca’s birthday. Over the years, having exhausted every single birthday option from McDonalds, to Wacky Warehouses, petting zoos, and in latter years, discos (don’t I sound groovy) in scout huts, and house parties, we have struggled to find something cool enough for Rebecca this year.
She is turning thirteen, so a happy meal and a stroke of a sheep isn’t really in order.
Her decision/preference was Alton Towers. Now, you may or may not know that I am allergic to UK theme parks due to my over exposure to the abject excellence of US theme parks. I have tried in the past to appreciate them in Blighty, and failed.
However, for the sake of my youngest I had a look at the web site. How much??????
It turns out that on Saturday, when we plan to go, there is an event on at Alton Towers, which will see thousands of young Christians attending the park. So, a UK theme park, at weekend, with an inflated crowd. I think not.
A little bit of googling later and she decides on Drayton Manor instead. We are taking one of her friends too, so I have had to sell a kidney to fund the day. I am full of trepidation about the outing to be honest, partly because the weather forecast looks “changeable” to say the least, with strong winds and rain predicted. Can anyone say Kagool? I am also trepidated (I say it is a word!) as I always leave a UK theme park feeling bereft of pleasure, money and a sense of well being.
UK Theme parks are more often than not
Dirty
Cold
Staffed by ASBO holding teens
Cheap in terms of quality
Expensive in terms of admittance
Full of horrible food at Five Star prices
Now I appreciate that my opinions may affect my ability to enjoy said UK outings, but I’m hoping that anyone with experience of a theme park on the other side of the pond will understand the sentiment? If you haven’t been to likes of Walt Disney World Resort or Universal Resort, my embittered ramblings here may not resonate.
I do hope for a good day out, for Rebecca’s sake though. She certainly enjoys the large rides these days, and hopefully, as her birthday “do” it will tick the boxes for her. I shall try my bestest not to stand around tutting all day, as the wintry winds and icy rain pour onto my £50 lunch.
Please, if you feel the same, feel free to back me up. Also, anyone with experience of an excellent day out at Drayton Manor can also reassure me I would not be better burning the cash and watching the videos of our previous Florida trips instead.
So I can now let you know (as no doubt you will not have slept since my post mentioning said secret) what all the secrecy was about.
I have a new job!
Oh? Is that it? Alas, that soundtrack to my life is apt once again. I was down in that there London last Thursday meeting with important types from the new company, agreeing stuff….and stuff. I knew as I left the meeting that I had the job if I wanted it, so after many minutes deliberation on Thursday evening, I resigned on Friday morning.
I know this stuff happens all the time, but I have been with my current employer for ten years, and feel totally institutionalised (that word is a bugger to type by the way…try it). The fear factor of leaving is softened as the new company is run by an ex-boss of mine (the one who took me to see United get dumped out of the Champions League a little while ago), and having worked with/for him for many years, I shouldn’t have to start all over again in the prove yourself stakes.
The new role is quite different to my current one, with new things to understand and learn, and I am in no way suffering a crisis of confidence that I shall be discovered to be a charlatan (or any other mid 90’s Madchester band), and realise that I was consigned to work all my life with my current employer.
I’m not going to bore you with company names etc. You barely care as it is, so besmirching any brand names on the internet is not needed. An audible sigh of relief around the internet is heard.
So this week I have been telling the managers that report to me, and then my team, that I am off in July (yep, 12 weeks notice…what fun), and I was mightily flattered at the reaction. They had the good grace to at least appear upset, and shocked, and being serious for a second, I did not expect anything like a reaction of this type, so that’s nice. I haven’t been a complete arse for the past ten years then.
With my never ending notice period, by the time I actually get to my new job, I only have five weeks at the new place and then the countdown ends and we are off on holidays. Don’t fret, I have already checked that the holiday dates would not be an issue!!
As a weird coincidence, my new MD (the ex-boss referred to earlier) goes on the same day, perhaps even the same flight we suspect. His villa is on the same development too. I feel slightly responsible as I convinced him to go two years ago when we worked together, promising his kids were not too young (hey, they are 21 and 27…joke!) and now he seems to be hooked too.
A period of notice is a weird place, with my natural work ethic and give a toss-ability hard to shake, and I have to keep reminding myself that I really shouldn’t care anymore. It will take time I think.
What's that, I'm a prefect? Great!!
Other news this week, also of a good nature, is that Emily has been accepted as a prefect at school. For Emily, the benefits start and end with a special coloured tie, which denotes her newly acquired super powers to the rest of the proles at her school. Beware her wrath fellow schoolmates.
Planning wise for the upcoming hols, little has progressed lately with all the job kerfuffle, as my concentration span can only deal with so much at once. I did get pointed at an iPhone app that looks to be an excellent addition to any control freak, OCD WDW lunatic (hey, that’s me). It was wizzo off of the Dibb who drew my attention to it (Thanks Paul). The WDW Lines app shows you in real time the current wait times and fastpass return times, also allowing you to enter the wait times etc as well.
Walk the line!
As I type, Buzz Lightyear has a twelve minute wait!! This app alone guarantess that I will actually take my phone with me, rather than leave it in the kitchen drawer at home to avoid any contact with work whilst on holiday!
It just so happens that the company I am going to work for actually do all this stuff. iPhone apps, mobile marketing, mobile vouchers (think Orange Wednesday campaign) so in time I might even understand how it all works. Anyone who is paying attention, might have worked out that this is where I got my hands on the iPad last week. Still no sign of the free one by the way.
And so as this post comes to a lovely full circle of completeness, I have my fingers crossed that whatever shower get into power next week, it doesn’t destroy the the dollar rate, as I have park tickets and spending money to worry about….and if something as trivial as a new government were to queer the pitch I shall be less than pleased.
I know you will no doubt have read my previous post in which I was less than enthralled at the prospect of your new iPad product. I know you are a regular reader of this blog along with all the other movers and shakers in Apple land!!
On Thursday of this week, I was in that there London, for reasons that I shall explain at a later date. A strange series of events meant I had my hands on one of your new fandangled iPads, and used it for all of about three minutes.
It may well be an oversized iPod Touch, but it is a thing of beauty Stevie boy. You guys know your design, and it had to be wrestled from my clammy mits. As long as that free iPad arrives this week I am sure we can now be friends again?
My “first dibs” on the iPad mini idea still stand though.
Probably best to send me an email or similar, as if you phone me I won’t be able to hear your voice. My view on that hasn’t changed!
Well I can’t tell you, otherwise it would not be a secret. All I will say is that I am working on something that I hope comes off, and if it does it should be better for me and the family all round. More news as it breaks…you shall be the first to know. Actually you won’t as Louise would be quite upset were that to be the case.
I have to point out that my lovely silver sexy Macbook has gone to the great big recycle bin in the sky, and I have been landed with, I mean I have been lucky enough to get a HP EliteBook in its stead.
It seems OK, but the keyboard feels very different and it keeps putting a \ when I just want to do a capital letter. Frustrating, and I therefore distance myself from all typos in this ere post.
Snotty Spaniels, you know about. We ended the last post with us making an emergency dash across the M62 to drop the little git off with our friends who were to let him recuperate in the country air of North Yorkshire. Luckily we had planned to go and see said friends last weekend, so this meant Henry could have a week in the land of James Herriot, and then come home with us, a week later.
Het up Henry
So this weekend just gone, we spent the lovliest of times with Steve and Di in Sinderby. After an uneventful journey, apart from Rebecca acting as iPod DJ all the way there, and inflicting the very best and worst of Emo culture upon us, we arrived to see Henry distraught at being seperated from us.
We were also blessed with the weather, and for the first time this year actually dined Al Fresco. I have no idea who invited Al, but he was welcome. The rest of the day was spent wandering around a pretty little town/village called Leyburn, where Louise and Di spent what felt like three days in a soft furnishing shop whilst Steve, myself, the girls and Henry waited ever so patiently outside. I had never heard a dog tut until Saturday.
On the way back to Steve and Di’s we stopped off to feed two donkeys (Steve and Di do this regularly, we didn’t just stumble across them), and they were in a field right next to Marmiom Tower.
Through the arched window...
We then retired to a nearby beer garden to sample the delights of the local brew, namely Black Sheep. Again, a first for the year, having a beer in a garden named for that purpose.
We then retired to Sinderby for a lovely meal courtesy of Di, quite a lot of wine and beer, and for the second time in a week, a session huddled around a fire pit. I must admit the temperatures dictated we didn’t move too far from the flames!!
Henry spent the evening being a right pain in the backside, as he located what we think was a hedgehog house, in the back garden, and would not leave it alone.
One by one, the girls first, we retired to bed, with us all giving in to droopy eyes by midnight.
Sunday saw us mainly eat to be honest. Bacon butties all around for breakfast, followed by lunch at the local boozer, which is a true country pub with stunning food.
Say Cheese
After a brief stop off at Tesco in Thirsk we find our way home via the A1 and M62, with Henry on his way back to Chez Williams. He has had a busy week, and a very hectic weekend which may explain why, for once he did not whine all the way home. Instead he fell asleep almost immediately and looked like this until Bolton.
The rest of the week ahead is full of meetings and secret things which I really hope will all come to fruition by weekend or at worst early next week. Don’t worry, it won’t be anything as exciting as I’m building you up to expect!!
My head is all over the place to be honest, which probably accounts for the rambling (more than usual) unstructured form of this post. Apologies.
I’d like to thank the keyboard on this laptop for making this post twice as difficult to type as normal.
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