A Brazillian With A Sword…Ouch!

So I am between jobs.  Albeit for 48 hours, but nevertheless, as intended I left the old place on Friday in a blaze of apathy, and am now having my loins girded for the enslaught of a new challenge tomorrow.

My working time at the old place fizzled out predictably, reflecting my appropriate levels of enthusiasm for the place.  The “leaving do” was a cosy lunch for three at the local Beefeater, where indeed I ate beef.  Luckily one of the three was my boss, and so as work etiquette dictates, those that earn the most pay the bill.  Being a Beefeater we did of course have the option of their set menu, that being –

Prawn Cocktail

Steak

Black Forest Gateaux

However, time was against us, so one course it was, as I had to get back to the office to do some more browsing of the internet to make sure it was all correct.  It wasn’t.

The evening saw me out on the tiles in Manchester for the first time in…well…ever.  This was not my leaving do I hasten to add.  I was driving as my attendance was a last minute decision.  Several colleagues from former employees were out and about, and I decided to tag along, mainly on the promise of a Rusholme curry.

Again, I was thwarted, as by the time we (one other colleague from present place was also going) had set off, the plans had changed, and we were going to eat in central Manchester at three times the price and half the enthusiasm.  Anyway, we started in some aircraft hangar like post modern bar in Piccaddilly (Kro Bar I think…do you get it??) and I willingly handed over the best part of a tenner for a pint of Fosters and a coke.  Colleagues arrived, we chatted, moved on to other bars, I drank more coke, and basically just counted down the minutes until food.  Slightly unfair that as it was good to catch up with folks I hadn’t seen in quite a while.

It turns out we were to be treated to a Brazillian.  I’m all for being neat and tidy but I fear this to be overkill!!

We also ate at a place called Bem Brasil.

bem brasil
With an s not a z

For those familiar with the Floridian equivalent of Texas De Brazil, you will be aware of the idea behind this restaurant.  You pay a set price that you expect to include a week’s accomodation, fill yourself up on cheap salad and soup and then watch blokes walk round with their swords out.

To be fair, it was very nice.  As I was eating with eight drunken blokes, it did turn into an episode of Man Vs Food very quickly, with the last to turn their coaster from green to red deemed the winner.  I counted myself the winner, despite not even bothering the scorers with my volume of food intake,  as shortly after getting to full, I threw (a lot of) some notes onto the table said my goodbyes, and then went to give a nearby car park my next mortgage payment.  There ended my leaving day!  The others I fear went on to who knows what and a large headache!

My one pint of Guinness and all that protein have stayed with me throughout the weekend, but I shall not elaborate on that here.

The other major event linked to my leaving is the lack of IT in the house.  Having handed back my state of the art (ahem) Dell laptop, and my iPhone, the house is bereft of decent devices with which to interact with the internet.  I am typing these words up in the converted loft, on a three year old PC, that has taken all of Saturday to catch up with the world, by way of installing updates for everything on it, and a few for things we don’t have.  We don’t use it a lot these days, and it shows.

We do have other laptops and computers shoved into various cupboards, but they are so old that the porn on them involves not a plumber coming to fix a fridge, but a blacksmith coming round to sort a horse out with his anvil.  I think I might copyright that film idea right there.

So until I turn up tomorrow we have had to endure the loft PC, and I am using Rebecca’s old phone, a Nokia E5.  I’m sure it is fit for purpose and all that, but let me tell you it is crap!!  It still has a good few months to run on the contract, but the chances of me sticking with it for all of those is pretty slim I must say.

For those who can remember as far back as last week, I had been cryptically referring to another job opportunity.  Well, it still exists, and negotiations have been ongoing over the weekend between my people (me) and their people (expensive recruitment agent).  Alas, as we stand we are some way apart on the valuation of me, and amazingly it is I who think I am worth more than they currently offer.  The reason for the oddness of this opportunity is it would involve me working overseas.

So, the compensation for doing so has to be huge, and right now, it isn’t huge enough, so it rests on the back burner and will remain so unless they come back with a number very close to the one I sent back in the last email, with more than a hint of disdain for their offer.  This all sounds very high powered business doesn’t it.  If I had hair, I’d slick it back, put some red braces on and shout agressively into a phone the size of a house brick.  Well, that Nokia E5 is pretty much as much use as one.

Until the opportunity is either finally buried or definitely on, I won’t bore you with any further details, which I’m sure is a blessing all round.

So what has been a very stressful time is hopefully coming to an end.  I just want to know what job I am doing, so I can commit to it, and deal with the relative ups and downs of whichever one it is.  I’m sure I’ll get this “closure” in the next day or so which will be a relief, not least for you dear reader, who is no doubt bored stupid hearing of it, on a blog where I keep saying I don’t do work stuff!!

So I shall leave you now, as Rebecca and I are home alone this evening.  Emily is out at a friends having pizza, sweets and DVDs, which is an odd meal in anyone’s book, and Louise is out at a friend from work’s wedding.  Yes Sunday is an odd day for a wedding, but the bride is up the duff and I suppose time is of the essence!  Either that or Louise is out at Dem Brasil with Dr Kildare from work, admiring the swords on show.

As an aside, for technical reasons that are beyond me, the spell check feature on this here WordPress blog thingy, does not work on this crappy PC, so I apologise now for any glaring errors you have just waded through.

Till the next time…..

It’s the little things, the incidentals…

THE SHED HAS LANDED.

It shall be mentioned no more.

Shed
It looked bigger in the shop!

We’ve had a bit of a change around here this week.  I’m presuming you have noticed by now a new look to my blog.  It was time for a change and a bit of colour to combat the unavoidable approach of winter.  Do let me know if you like the new look or if you fear change like the ravaging demonic beast that it is.

On a genetal note I do enjoy getting comments, (he said in a needy type way), so always feel free to post your thoughts.

In a week that has seen Tsunamis (why the silent T???), more economic torture, and no doubt millions of other personal tragedies, I find myself wrestling with one of those really small annoying problems that really get under your skin.

Before I say what it is, I will admit it is completely trivial and of no matter whatsoever, but still it lives inside of me like some sort of technical tumor.

For months, my phone has worked perfectly with my car’s bluetooth system.  I have jumped in and out of the red beast, with it pairing and unpairing as easily as Katie Price and Peter Andre.  It has been one of life’s little miracles that I can speak to my car and it knows who to ring, and when someone phones me, it pauses the CD, or turns the radio down, and allows me to speak hands free.

For some reason, about two weeks ago, the phone started just randomly disconnecting itself from the car’s bluetooth system, sometimes mid call, so I would then have to shout very loudly…

“Hang on, the fecking bluetooth has gone” whilst I swerve from lane to lane trying to wrestle the phone from the cradle to speak illegally for a few seconds to say goodbye.

It will reconnect if I press enough buttons either on the car or on the phone, only to deny me again moments later.  Then in a mocking style, other times it will connect and stay so, come hell, high water or a three car pile up on the M602.

In best man fashion, I have been looking for a fix.  Men like to fix things.  It is what we do in life.  If a problem has no solution then it isn’t a valid problem.

I have thus far failed.  Google has been of some help, and I’ve tried a few fixes that others have tried, but as yet no joy.  In the back of my mind, I know that I should either –

a) Give the phone to the IT chaps in the office, demand either a fix or a new phone, and flounce off all diva like.

b) Ring the phone manufacturer and ask them to sort it out.

Well you may guess that the first option is not my style, and the second one fills me with mental images of overseas call centres, and three-hour waits listening to Linda Ronstadt.

So I shall continue my quest for a fix, and until I do…don’t phone me when I’m driving.

By the way, ten pop picker points for anyone who can tell me the song and artist from which I nicked the title for this post.

Rebecca's battered phone.
Let's talk about texts baby.

Elsewhere this week on the subject of phones, I have to share with you a bit of a deal.  Rebecca has had her phone for two years now, and it bears the scars of a squillion texts.  Her contract is almost up, and we’ve been counting down the months until she can upgrade.  She’s been with O2 all her mobile life, and we saw no reason to change, and were preparing for a visit to the shop next month to pick out her new handset.

That was however until I got an email from Quidco.  A cash back site I have used quite a bit recently.  This email told me about a deal for new Orange Pay Monthly contracts, offering £140 cash back.

Nokia E5
That keyboard is going to take some hammer

To cut a long story short, I signed her up for a Dolphin.  Which is odd from a phone provider but with it she gets unlimited texts (vital), enough minutes (she doesn’t actually talk to anyone on her phone) and 500mb of internet each month for £20.  A shiny new Nokia E5, and Daddy gets a nice payment of £140.  I thank you.

On top of that of course, we now have an Orange contract within the house, which means we can finally take advantage of the Orange Wednesday scheme, which is quite apt as the company I work for “do that”.

This week has seen me realise that I also need to actually do some getting ready for my Paris trip, and luckily with Louise at home, she has been able to sort out some Euros for me (even though Adam has promised to pay for everything 🙂  ), and with the temperatures dropping faster than my council’s budget, some essential stuff to keep me warm.

So a wooly hat and gloves have been procured on my behalf.  I am sure I shall look dashing and exotic.

Paris Weather
Sunday sees a light drrrrrizzle.

A quick check of the upcoming weather for Paris shows that it may not be too bad, with some light rain forecast for Sunday, and with temperatures staying some way above freezing.  Forgive me if I still pack the woolies and seventeen different layers.  I don’t do cold very well at all.

Tomorrow sees a full day of travel, which of course will all go smoothly and to plan, and I get to Paris around 6pm.  I then have a few hours to kill until Adam arrives, so I’ll wander around shops, eat, and perhaps eat as well.

If the phone works over there (and my IT chap tells me he has made it so) then see you on Twitter for blow-by-blow updates from what I hope is an enjoyable weekend.

Au revoir….

Till the next time…..