A Little Effort Goes A Long Way.

I don't want to come across as a grumpy-guts, but I hate having to go to the supermarket. I don't like how they're always cold when you step in, I find it ironic that they sell you cigarettes right by the front door yet make you walk all the way to the back to pick up your medicine, and I dislike how they compare the prices of two very similar things using different measurements, where they say "this one is £1.50 per 100g" and "that one is £14 per Kilo". Really? Is it truly that hard to get some kind of consistency? C'mon, this isn't politics so don't try and deceive us.

Anyway, I'm going around the supermarket, looking out for one of those shallow trolleys because there are none outside. You pick up your shopping, bung it in the trolley (that you've resorted to picking up in the isle and hope that it is not someone else's) and when you're done, where do you head: the self-service isle. It's not because it's quicker than a normal checkout (apparently you need ID to buy Red  Bull, which involves standing around for eleventy million years while a till person runs up to confirm that, yes, you're not five) but because it involves not having to be greeted with a "huuuui" followed by "you wanna bag wiv vat mayt'?" In fact, I was asked by a till assistant the other day if a parsnip was, in fact, a parsnip. Suffice to say I resisted the massive urge in me to convince him, with a "duh!" look, that it was actually a laptop. After this little event, you walk out, load up the car and drive out, making sure you don't hit the mass of trolleys that have congregated around those little plastic shelters that live in the middle of the car park.

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Some People Seem To Just Make It Up As They Go.

The other day someone telephoned me to ask me a question about manners and customs. I know I know, I'm sure it happens to you guys all the time, right? Anywhoo, I'm asked about what can only be abbreviated to "takeaway etiquette", and the premise is this: this person had invited a friend round for a delivery from the Maharajah House, and she had sent him an email before-hand to remind the friend to bring the cash as apparently they've got a bit of a rep for forgetting their pennies when they go scoff a korma. What followed was a phone call from the friend to say how "disappointed" he was that he'd been asked to pay. He'd got it into his head that if you invite someone round for a takeaway, that the host is obliged to pay. This wasn't even a case of "I thought that the host paid", it was a definite "No! You're wrong".

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I could learn every language in the world, and there's still one that will always stump me.

There's one thing about speaking English that I enjoy; everyone else in the world appears to speak it. It takes the whole "language barrier" thing away for the majority of the time. This was discovered by a friend of mine on a trip to The Netherlands last year when, in the belief that they spoke as little English as we do Dutch, she shouted "tits" across the train, much to the rapturous amusement of a German business-boy opposite me. Even if you're from, say, Norway and you're speaking to someone from France, you might not speak each others' language, so you'll both speak in English. Bonus! Now, this doesn't mean I'll do the standard thing while abroad of speaking LOUDLY... AND... SLOWLY while asking for TWO... BEERS... PLEASE because I can't be bothered to learn the local lingo.

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Stop being so grumpy. It could be worse. For example...

I do love mornings! Not the "getting-up" part, or the "few-grumpy-minutes-before-the-kettle-boils" part obviously, but after then, when I'm wide awake and can find the mental capacity to laugh at everything and everyone. I try not to get annoyed in the morning, especially if I have to commute somewhere. This is for a very good reason, you see. I see every morning the same people getting very and hilariously wound up behind the wheel of their car in the jams. I can even see them shouting abuse at everything before them, which simply means I can insert my own amusing commentary to what they're saying, or give these complete strangers, who I see all the time, their own nicknames. Hey, some of those traffic jams are pretty long, I'll have you know! Anyway, I am always cheery on a long morning drive for a very good reason. I call them "They".

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Is a little bit of courtesy really too much to ask for?

Now I'm not one to whinge (HA!) but I like to look on the nicer side of things. Who among us complains about the drive into work? You're stuck in traffic while half-asleep, you didn't have time to eat breakfast, your traffic jam seems to be meeting yet another traffic jam and to top it off, you have noticed that the fact that you're baffled by the noises that come from Radio 1 these days indicates that age is slowly rearing it's head.

Be cheery! At least you're driving! In your car you can sing wildly out of tune, you can shout abuse at the silly man on the radio for his silly suggestions, you can launch a major excavation project in whichever nostril you choose, all in the comfort of your own space. You could be on the bus, for example, sitting on someone else's chewing gum, listening to children scream as loud as they can while the crazy lady sits and stares at your ears. Plus, you'll be really cold.

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The Future Is Here..... Apparently.

Who out there has a "smart phone"? You know, the kind that lets you check Facebook, watch Germans fall over on Youtube and generally waste time browsing the web, all on a phone that has a battery life of about 34 seconds?

Now, who has the Internet? Well, all of you obviously, otherwise how are you reading this? Maybe on a "smart phone". I love all this technological shenanigans personally. I get unbearably excited over new gadgets that do all manner of non-essential yet interesting stuff. I'm sure most of you also use Facebook (Ultimedia does) and I'm sure a fair number of you use Twitter (again, Ultimedia does).

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Ahh, the joys of moving. Shame about the estate agent.

This week, I have mostly been moving. It's a little overrated, in my opinion. I'd forgotten how frustrating it is dragging stuff up stairs that you've had to disassemble, followed by being totally baffled at the procedure of putting it back together again. There's also the factor of "settling in", which is a cosy euphemism for living out of your bags for a couple of days, not having a clue where anything is, not knowing how to turn the hot water on and forgetting that you had to turn the fridge on, so you have no snacky food to make you feel better. You'd have a cup of tea, but the kettle is in a box. Somewhere. Also, why is it that new homes have that strange smell? You know, that smell that you only get when you go into someone else's house, that leaves you wondering what your own "house-smell" smells like to others?



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Lack of back-ups get my back up!

Ladies and Gentlemen... It has started!

I went to my car this morning and it was covered in frost for the first time this year. This is not a good thing; it signals that the real winter has started and it will be at least 3/4 of a year before it becomes warm to an acceptable level. It also means that I have at least a 25 minute wait when I get home before the radiators do their mighty work and warm the place up. It means that I will get home when it is night-time, it means that venturing outside involves putting on coats/hats/scarves/gloves which simply takes up too much of my time.

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A Little Effort Goes A Long Way.

I don't want to come across as a grumpy-guts, but I hate having to go to the supermarket. I don't like how they're always cold when you step in, I find it ironic that they sell you cigarettes right by the front door yet make you walk all the way to the back to pick up your medicine, and I dislike how they compare the prices of two very similar things using different measurements, where they say "this one is £1.50 per 100g" and "that one is £14 per Kilo". Really? Is it truly that hard to get some kind of consistency? C'mon, this isn't politics so don't try and deceive us.



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Looks always deceive.

I love surprises. Good surprises, mind, I don't for example relish the moment when I come home to find a tiger has ravaged my house. No, I love good surprises, that feeling of thinking something is simply not going to work despite assurances then, lo and behold, it all goes according to plan. Imagine how amazed the observers of the Wright Brothers' first flight must've been when it all worked. I mean to those who don't understand the physics of flight, it is an utterly preposterous suggestion that a structure made of wood and canvas would actually fly? What, like a bird? Nonsense!

But it did, and that must've been like watching someone say they'll walk through the Empire State Building, on fire, then actually doing it.

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Top Ten Tips for selecting the Ideal Meeting Venue

When arranging meetings, there are so many options available, from an in-house meeting room to a generic business centre, from a hotel room to a dedicated conference venue. Even though we’re in difficult economic times, daily rate is not the most important consideration, especially if you have to pay for additional services such as IT equipment that you believed was included in the original price! Without doubt, choosing the right environment for your conference, meeting or training event can be as important as the content.

To help bookers identify the key criteria when selecting their meeting venue, Peter Darnell, Chartridge Conference Company’s managing director has prepared a guide based on their customer’s feedback.

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