Dear Dad

Stop reading my blog. Or at least, if you're gonna read my blog, stop referencing my blog to me. I know what it says, I wrote it.

Thanks for saying I'm witty though. And it's nice to know I have at least one reader...

The Christmas Spirit

I realise I'm a bit late with the Christmas-themed blog. But oh well. This is basically the tale of the run-up to my Christmas, and Christmas day.

In the week leading up to Christmas, I worked 6 out of 7 days. And subsequently lost all faith in humankind, and the will to live. Those of you who know me, will know I work in Sayers (and those of you who don't, have just been told). Most of the conversations I have with customers pass without any major incidents. We make the sales transaction and move on with our lives. However, there are some customers who feel it is their duty to make my shift just that little bit more stressful. Here are some examples of things customers do that make me want to hurdle over the counter and dropkick them all the way to PoundBakery, so they can mither someone else about baked pastry goods:

• "Can I have a pasty?" - The single most annoying question a customer could possibly ask. We're a bakery. We sell a variety of pasties, and I'm not a fucking mind-reader. You're going to have to be more specific.
• "Do you have any *name of any item we sell*?" - If it isn't on the counter, chances are, we don't have it. I'm not hiding a secret stash of steak pasties from you.
• "It costs extra to sit in? That's ridiculous. The world has gone mad! I'm now going to complete my conversation with you in the rudest way possible because, clearly, you write the company policy. Etc, etc, etc." - Actually, no, contrary to popular belief, the staff of this particular shop do not make the rules, we just follow them. You know, so we don't get sacked. It costs extra to sit in because you're paying for VAT and the wages of the sorry bastards who have to clean up after you. Deal with it, or get out.
• Similarly, don't pay the take-out price for a pasty, then sit in the cafe in the hope that no-one has noticed, then look at me like I have three heads when I ask you to either pay the difference, or leave.
• Do not ask me stupid questions, because stupid questions are usually followed up with a stupid answer, but no doubt if I gave you a stupid answer, you'd get me sacked. In the time I have worked at Sayers, I've been asked if the bean and SAUSAGE pasties are vegetarian, what the difference is between the plain iced bun and the fruited iced bun, and whether the cheese and onion pasties are very cheese-and-oniony. These are just a few off the top of my head and this is by no means an exhaustive list. Just take my word for it. People are idiots.
• There are quite a few options with our menu. So when I ask you if you want your coffee black, latte or cappuccino, or how many sausages you want on your barm, do NOT just go 'whatever', as though you have a 'usual' order that I should know about. I'm asking you for a reason, I work here and I know how the ordering system works, so just answer the goddamn question.

Over the Christmas period, incidents such as the above happen on a more often than average basis. On top of this, people go Christmas shopping, get themselves stressed, then come and take it out on us when they decide they want feeding and watering. For this reason, my Christmas spirit was at a low ebb, until I went home on Christmas eve after work.

I love Christmas eve. It's one of my favourite days of the year. This year, I spent it in my onesie, wrapping presents, watching The Holiday, and generally getting really excited about Christmas day. My Christmas day was also perfect, particularly Christmas morning. The only downside of Christmas this year has been that my dad has been working nights, meaning we got up at the crack of 7am when he got in from work and opened presents. Me, my mum, my dad, my brother and my dog, all sat downstairs, in front of the fire, and took turns opening presents (yes, even the dog). It was genuinely perfect. My dad sat with a pint(!) of whisky and lemonade ("Dad, it's 7 o clock in the morning!!"..."I've been at work ALL NIGHT." was the closest thing my family got to an argument throughout the whole of Christmas day) and turkey butties, while my mum made the rest of us breakfast.

Presents-wise, a couple of weird things happened. My dad bought my mum the same book as my mum had bought me, and none of us knew until we'd opened them, and me and my mum both got slankets (blanket + sleeves = slanket). I got a BEAUT Pandora charm bracelet, with an elephant charm and a hedgehog charm, which I love, amongst the usual things like dvds, books, perfume etc. My brother got an iPod touch, which nearly ended up outside buried in the snow due to the amount of mithering he did about how it works and how you put apps on it etc etc etc.

Which brings us to now, Christmas week. Last night I went out for a meal with Frankie, Vicki, Katie and Nathan for Frankie's 21st, during which we became that table that everyone hates, as discussed in my blog of a week or so ago when me and my friends went to a different Italian restaurant. Oh well, what goes around comes around. The highlight of my night was when Nathan got meringue in his eyebrow.

Today is my little brother's 16th birthday. Which makes me feel ridiculously old. Last month, he went looking at colleges and started trying to decide what he's actually going to do with his life, which made me realise that it's 5 years since I was doing that, and that in 6 months' time, I'll have left uni and will be turning 21, which means I'll actually officially be an adult. And that scares me shitless.

Maroon 5

I just love them. So much. I don't think there's another band in the world that I like every single one of their songs. Including Westlife. And for those of you who know me, you'll know how significant that claim is. Their current album, Hands All Over, is sterling. And it helps that Adam Levine, as well as being a lyrical genius, is beautiful.

Exhibit A: Never Gonna Leave This Bed

The beginning of the festivities, and a moment of appreciation.

Last night was the first official Christmas gathering I've been to. Me and some of my friends from college (Charlotte, Jess, Nathan, Robyn and Andrea...yeah, you got a mention, congrats.) went to Franco's for a nice, civilised meal. And then we realised we were in Wigan. There was what was clearly a work's do on the table next to us (I don't know why we got sat next to them, the restaurant was basically empty. I'm assuming this table scared all the other customers away), who it can only be assumed they had been treating Franco's as their local for the majority of the day, as they were all HAMMERED, and the waiting-on staff clearly hated every single one of them. Understandably. One particular woman's voice plagued our entire evening. I found out that the only underwear she owns are thongs, and Charlotte saw the evidence of this in a gash-flashing incident in the toilets which left her traumatised.

However, apart from that, I loved it. I realised that it doesn't matter how long I haven't seen my college friends in, nothing ever changes and it's like we've never been away when I do see them. I cannot WAIT to spend New Year's Eve with some of them. I love them a lot, and I do wish certain members of the group would stop spending 8 months of the year in a different country (yes Jess, that's you). I also love it when we refer to ourselves as 'the girls', regardless of the fact that Nathan is there. He's an honourary girl.

Now, I'm going to have a moan. Because an entry in my blog isn't complete until I've complained about something. I hate the snow. Like, I can't even put my hate for it into words. I enjoyed it for about 15 minutes while me and my brother played in the garden in the snow with the dog, but then the dog got too cold and wanted to go in, and the novelty had gone. Every train back to Chester today has either been cancelled or delayed, meaning it was basically impossible for me to get a train back to Chester tonight, so my mum has to take me, because I would get BOLLOCKED if I rang work tomorrow and said I couldn't get back to work my shift tomorrow because of the snow. Add to this the fact that it took me two and a half hours to complete a 45 minute train journey yesterday to get home, and you'll understand why the snow is the bane of my life at the moment.

I need...

...a night out. So badly. No less than THREE nights out have been cancelled this week. Although I'm not overly bothered about Sunday because we're partaking in drunken sledging instead. Hello multiple injuries. I've never known it to be so impossible to arrange a night out though, especially in the run-up to Christmas.

I also need it to STOP SNOWING. At least until Christmas Eve, because I'm working until 5pm that day, and if I get stranded in Chester and can't get home for Christmas Day, I will spend Christmas Day wanting to die.

My Life Lessons

I've realised lately that all my life lessons seem to come from either Friends or How I Met Your Mother. It's nice to know I can learn about life whilst laid in bed, eating a chocolate santa and wearing a onesie.

My onesie is my new best friend. It is also, however, a death trap. Because Primark has ridiculous expectations of my height, and I therefore keep tripping over the extra material where the rest of my legs should be.

Current Annoyances...

1. Why, in the third year of uni, does one of my tutors think it's appropriate to send everyone in our lecture the attendance statistics for the first term? I'm 20. I know I've not been to every lecture, but I'm supposed to be in charge of my own education and all the lecture notes are on IBIS anyway. That's what it's there for. I'd like to point out that the tutor who has done this is the one who teaches the DULLEST subject in the world, and just spends an hour a week reading off a Powerpoint. Don't blame us for not turning up if you're not even going to attempt to make the topic interesting.
2. Why is my room like a sauna all of a sudden? There is no inbetween with this house.
3. The fact that, after a weekend at home, I STILL returned back to Chester and had to clean this shithole I call a house. Bearing in mind that, over the weekend, we had people viewing the house for next year. And certain people are STILL incapable of cleaning their shit up. People who will remain nameless. Although I live with only 3 other people. And I'm only REALLY talking about one, maybe two of them. So it's not that difficult to deduce...
4. Why am I SO indecisive that I can't even decide if I want to dye my hair dark again or not? I think I do. But the thought of it scares me a bit for some reason. I'll leave it blonde over Christmas so I don't get the 'you look better blonde' lecture from my whole family at the same time.
5. Secret Santa. Everyone at work has spent the last few weeks since we drew names out of a hat trying to find out who has who for Secret Santa. If you were supposed to know, it'd just be called 'Santa'. I hate it when people don't play by the rules. And even though I have probably the best person I could have got to buy something for, I'm still struggling to think of something. It will definitely be a joke present. Because I am hilarious.

I love...

1. RBs
2. Gay night at RBs
3. My friends
4. My friends at gay night at RBs
5. My friends and alcohol at gay night at RBs
6. When Set You Free gets played without me asking
7. Everything about tonight

Jingle Bellends

While I was in SA, me and 4 other girls called each other 'bellend' as an inside joke. As it's the festive season, I've jazzed it up a bit. We are now jingle bellends. And there will be a jingle bellends reunion tomorrow night. Also tomorrow night, pretty much all my favourite people who live in Chester will be out, and it will be my first night out in nearly three weeks. I have very high expectations of tomorrow night. The beauty of this, is that Gender Blender never disappoints me. It is always, without fail, mint. (Touch wood.) It's mint for the following reasons:

1. There is this relaxed atmosphere that comes as part of it being a gay night. The relaxed atmosphere occurs because it's full of regulars and there's virtually no chance of 'the grinding guy on the dancefloor' being present.
2. We know the DJ. This means we get a bit cocky and walk in like we actually own the place and get shoutouts from him as soon as we do walk in. It also means that our song requests are pretty much guaranteed to be played.
3. There's no knobheads out. Because it's gay night, and said knobheads avoid gay night like the plague.
4. As mentioned, all my favourite people go out on Tuesdays.
5. Drinks are dirt cheap.

I really could go on. I'm sure I'll think of more reasons before tomorrow night. It's pretty much the only night out I am willing to be hungover in work for. I refuse to entertain the prospect of SU Friday, because the SU is gash, and I work on Saturdays, but I'm quite happy to go out on Tuesdays knowing I'm in work on the Wednesday morning.

Eyebrow Shaping...

...is the bane of my life. Tonight, I drew blood whilst in the process. And my eyebrows (or what's left of them, I'm not the best at eyebrow shaping) still have a pulse.