Public Toilets

I’m sure everyone can relate to the times your out and about and you need the toilet. 

I have complied a few handy tips to save you all the following embarrassing situations. 

1) When using a toilet on a train be careful of the ones with sliding doors.  Always remember to lock the door.  Failure to do this will result in the door slowly opening on you mid wee to reveal you hovering over the toilet seat with your dress hoisted at your hips in a very undignified fashion.  The person who opened the door on you will not return to their seat to save you embarrassment, they will stand and wait for you to finish so they can giggle at you as you leave.

2) If (due to the lesson learnt from point 1) you decide to use the toilets at a train station.  Don’t be fooled into thinking you can simply squeeze through the gap to save yourself 30p.  It is considerably smaller than you think, or you are slightly larger than you think.  But one way or another the turning prongy thing will get you right in the bum, and it will hurt to sit down for the next day or so.  The best option here is to either pay 30p or wait until you get home. 

3)  Never trust a toilet that has the cubical walls and doors all the way up to the ceiling. Especially in a foreign country.  You will get stuck and no one will understand what you are saying.  No one will help you, and you will be there a while.

4) Always be careful when using a public toilet in a rush.  Even when time is limited check that you have locked the door in the actual lock, and not turned it while the door is still open.  Failure to double check will result in a young child opening the door and looking frightened when then see you squatting over the toilet seat.  Their mum will then have to tell them to close the door.  They will close the door but it will open again.  The best solution is to give up on your wee and wait until you get home.

5)  If you are visiting a seaside beware of pets in the toilet.  Particularly unruly dogs in conjunction to doors that have a large gap between the door and the floor.  The dog will run into the toilets and try and squeeze through the gap to join you in the toilet.  There is not much you can do in this situation other than look very un dog friendly, is to scream and hope it will leave you alone.  *note to readers this situation is specific to Australia but I cannot guarantee it wouldn’t happen in the UK*

I will leave you with one final important piece of information...scotch eggs contain meat.  The bit around the outside is not pastry it is actually sausage meat.

Present buying disasters

Unfortunately my friends and family long suffered at the hands of my present buying.  It’s not that I don’t try; it’s just sometimes my idea of a great present is a little different to most peoples. In the run up to Christmas I feel it my duty to share with everyone the following sharky incidents.

1) The dilemma of what you get your dad. They are always the trickiest to buy for.  One year I was in a quirky shop when I saw this beautiful orange sequin chicken.  I got the idea into my head that I should buy this for my dad because he once worked for a chicken magazine. I thought I was onto a winner.  Finally! Something that wasn’t liquorish allsorts or socks.   So I buy it and take it home.  I was so proud of myself.  I had a little spring in my step.  I get home, show my housemates, only to be informed that the chicken was in fact a pin cushion, for a female sewer and definitely not suitable for my dad, or any dad, or any male, or to be honest, anyone.  

Result: The chicken lives in my spare room and my dad got socks.

2) I’m sure you can all relate to that awful moment when you’re on your way to a birthday party and you realise forgot to buy a card and present.  So what do you do? You stop at a service station and buy the what ever you can find that looks like you haven’t just bought it from a service station.

Result: You turn up with a tatty card and a car sponge.

                                                                                 
3) Weddings.  Now you would think that this should be easy, you simply pick off a list.  But what if you’ve left it to the last minute and all the presents from the John Lewis list you can afford have been snapped up by those annoyingly organised people.  This happened to me, and there was this inner panic.  What should have been an easy task had suddenly been turned upside down. 

Result: You go to Lush and Lakeland…nothing says ‘congratulations on your wedding’ more than a plastic cow shaped bowl and spoon set and a travel shampoo after all.

4) My brother.  Now the problem here was not that he is difficult to buy for, but more my interpretation of a good present.  One year I was so chuffed with myself I’d gone shopping one afternoon and brought what I thought was a fun and somewhat educational present for my brother in the form of a ‘Mr Wonderful’ doll.  This was no ordinary doll he would speak saying all the things you wish men would say.  I thought great I give it to my brother so he knows how to be a good boyfriend.  I get home.  Show my friends and they delight in informing me that it is actually a present for a girl to give her the perfect man.

Result: Mr wonderful sits on my shelf accompanied by a Mrs wonderful key ring.  My brother got chocolate and a game.

A picture paints a thousand words?!

Never far from my mind, forever in my heart. 

Miss you more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.

xxx

How not to behave when been chased by police...

Some of you may not know that I am in fact a criminal after an unfortunate brush with the law a while back.

I was on my way to visit my good friend Catrinder Wiffendorinian and I was running late.  Very late.  I was singing along to a CD, which, in the interest of retaining some degree of self respect shall not be named, trying my best to make up a bit of time.  So I put my foot down and off I go on the motorway.  There I am happily minding my own business enjoying my singsong when I see some blue lights behind me.  I then noticed the blue lights are in fact a police car.  I couldn’t understand why they didn’t over take me, they had their lights flashing, clearly in pursuit of someone, or something, why waste their time behind my Corsa?

Some time later I noticed the police car was really close behind me and the police man was gesturing at me pointing at the hard shoulder.  It was then, and only then, that I realised he was after me.  Little old me in my sharkmobile was been chased by the police.  But I’m late, this is going to make me more late, so I keep going a bit more thinking I’ll soon be at my destination we can sort it out there. 

Mr Police man started to look mad, really mad.  So, I pull over to be greeted by an angry police man, who informed me he was about to call the helicopters for back up!  He shouted.  I put on the best posh sensible voice I could manage, and somehow talked my way out of a prosecution for driving without due car and attention and settled with a speeding fine and 3 points.

If I had gone that little bit further I could have been a star of the next ‘police, camera action’ or ‘high speed police chase’.  

Luckily, I manged to avoid  prison sentence, which would have been pointless anyway because as you can see from the picture below, you can't keep a shark locked up in a cage or cell for long anyway...

The Money Tree

During a meeting at work my boss brought me a money tree and explained how they are 'virtually impossible to kill' I was thrilled at the idea of watching my little money tree grow big and strong.  It started off so well, it even produced money.  I kid you not there was 47p in my money tree's pot.  I watered it, I fed it plant food and orange squash and the odd haribo.  I stroked its leaves.  I gave it so much love.  Maybe too much because I turned up to work the other day to find my little money tree had literally rotted away.  All that is left is a few rotting leaves and a pot of soil.

I was sad.  I'd never had to grieve a plant before.  It was a tough few days.   I was counting on that tree to make me rich, now I have to buy a bloody lottery ticket. The pain was made easier by a new plant appearing on my desk with a postit note "I am easy to care for water me once a week and love me" well, within a day I'd knocked the little plant on the floor and spilt the rocks and mud in a colleagues bag!

Lesson learnt: I'm probably not quite ready for kids.

Some of you may remember my interview advice post, and I confirmed that I am employed.  Here are two pictures of a typical day in the office when the sharks about....

After getting through 24 frankfurter hotdog sausages in little over a week, I have gone cold turkey.  It's been 9 days now...it's getting tough but this addiction must be stopped.  It starts with hotdogs it ends in heroin.

The one with the Cleaner and the Chicken Fillet

After an unexpected admission to hospital last June I sent mummy shark home to pack some bags for me.  Unfortunately I had just been on Holiday so all my favourite things were still dirty in my suitcase, but as I was in hospital looking good wasn’t high on my list of priorities.  Mummy shark came back with a bag full of the important things, pj’s, towels, toothbrush, clothes etc.  Trouble was she’d picked up my new Primark bra with air based chicken fillets in it. I removed the air fillets and put them in the bag.  I was a bit scared of wearing them and one boob suddenly going pop, and knowing my track record of embarrassing situations I’m sure if it was going to happen to anyone it would be me.  But still, I thought I’d keep them.  There is a lake at the end of our road and if someone drowns I can throw them a fillet as a buoyancy aid!  Or if I wanted to play catch in a room with lots of valuables the air fillet could be handy. You do never know when they might come in useful.  I would advise all readers to have a few ‘just in case’.  Anyway few days later the cleaner was cleaning my floor with a funny looking mop thing when she stopped and stared at the floor looking a bit bemused.  That was when I noticed one of my fillets had fallen out of my bag and was been swept around the floor!  I then had to explain that it was actually a chicken fillet from a bra and yes I do want to keep it.  Not embarrassing at all…

Words and Phrases

Am I the only one that gets their words and phrases confused?  I am constantly getting myself in a muddle, sometimes people correct you and other times they say nothing but look at you a little oddly, a little like the time at school when I sucked the wrong end of my pen and got a blue mouth.

The other week at work I was chatting with some colleagues about ways she can find another job, I then suggested she elope to a sunny place as I’m sure there’s lots of work going there, I got a really odd look back, turned out I meant emigrate.

While working as a conference assistant I got confused with the coffee jargon…

Conference delegate “Could I have a white coffee please?’’

Me “I’m really sorry but we only have the normal brown coffee or you could have it black?”

Conference delegate “You don’t do white coffee?”
Me “Well I can ask my manager but I really don’t think we do, we have herbal teas if you would prefer?”
Conference delegate “you don’t have milk?”
Me “yes milks just over there, you can help u can help yourself”
Conference delegate “so I can have a white coffee”
Me “I’m really sorry I don’t understand what you want, all our coffee is brown”
Conference delegate “coffee with milk”
Me *penny drops* “I understand now, sorry I don’t drink tea or coffee I don’t understand the lingo, I’ll just get one now for you”

The below happened during a recent hospital stay:
Nurse type bloke “ have you spent a penny today?”
Me “have I spent a what now?”
Nurse type bloke “a penny”
Me “A penny, no I’ve not spent anything today I don’t understand”
Nurse type bloke “ok have you been for a wee”
Me “Ahhhh yes, yes I have thank you”

During a recent conversation with a friend (whose name has been slightly altered to maintain her privacy) I took a question slightly too literally…

Me “I’m writing my blog but I’m getting a bit of writers block!”

Sammy Gangster “what you writing it on?”

Me “Well I write it in word then upload it to the blog”

Sammy Gangster “what hair colour are you?” “are you still brunette?”

Me “i am!”

Sammy Gangster “cause when I asked what you were writing it on, I meant the topic HAHAHA so you should really be blonde ;)

Me “HAHAHAH!!!!! I’m laughing, god I’m so stupid sometimes”

Sammy Gangster “I did literally laugh when you wrote that, I was like, O dear!!”

Me “LOL I think some people think seriously can she be that bad, but clearly I am, and in answer to your question I’m writing it on misunderstandings of words ironically!”

I have also been known to tell someone that a friend is going to pop her clogs when turned out the phrase I was looking for was bun in the oven!  Don’t even get me started on ‘sending people to Coventry’ mum once told me to send my brother to coventry when he was annoying me, i was like how on earth am I going to get him there?! How are people supposed to understand these bizarre sayings? Is there some sort of book people read that no one has told me about?

I will leave you with a video if I can upload it.  Its just the result of what happens when I’m let lose at cultural places.

My next blog will be some more car incidents along with some very useful advice including what NOT to do when been chased down the motorway by the police…

Interview Advice

Since the job market is considerably more competitive I thought I would offer some interview advice.  I think it would be safe to say I’ve had my fair share of interview nightmares.  The following are a few handy do’s and don’ts which should prevent the following awkward situations:

1) Always make sure you know what your entrance and exit routes are, especially in cafés and restaurants that might not show you out.  Failure to do so, can, and has resulted in me thinking I’m going through the door that leads to the stairs but actually ended up in the kitchen, I promptly realise my mistake leave the kitchen then turn to go through the other door which incidentally leads to the toilets. Third time lucky I finally get the door to the stairs, while the bloke that interviewed me has remained in the restaurant and watched the entire thing.

2) When asked why you have a few gaps in your CV do not respond with “Oh sorry,  have I?  I must have pressed the space bar too much, I did try and get it on two pages” What they actually mean is that there are a few areas which your experience is a little hazy and you haven’t demonstrated all your work experience particularly well.

3) If they call you up and say “we would like to see you for an informal chat about the job” this does not mean its ok to turn up in your jeans and casual jumper with a New Look shopping bag and some Pick n Mix.  What they really mean is, were not sending you an official interview letter, but it is an interview all the same, and the chap before you will be suited and booted with a brief case!

4) When asked about what you know about the company always do thorough research and not just what you see in the information book in the reception, failure to do adequate research will result in the following:
Interviewers: “So Clare, what do you know about the Abode Hotel?”
Me: (Feeling chuffed I know the answer to this one…) “I know you’re owned my Michael Cain”
Interviewers: “Yes that’s right we are, and do you know who Michael Cain is?”
Me: “Yes, Yes I do…he’s an actor, he’s quite famous!”

Interviewers: “What’s he in then?”
Me: “Erm, well, erm, films? Yeah he’s in films, he’s a filmstar. He’s in erm…..*desperately trying to think of a film…any film*…jaws?
Interviewers: (laughing) Yes we are owned by Michael Cain, and Yes Michael Cain is an actor, but no, we are not owned by the Hollywood actor Michael Cain but Michael Cain the professional Chef…and no Actor Michael Cain is not in jaws”
Me: *Nodding* That does make sense, I did wonder what Michael Cain would want with a hotel.

5) If you get asked the question “where do you see yourself in 5 years time” they are looking for evidence that you are ambitious and would like to develop within the company. Replying with “well actually, you know what, I’d love to be sky diving, I’ve always wanted to do one, so yeah I’d like to be on a beach sky diving in 5 years that would be great”  isn’t the best idea.  They will smile, nod, raise their eyebrows and respond with… “okkkaaaaay moving on….”

6) When asked a question “Are you good with geography” responding with “well actually I was at the pub quiz on Sunday and I correctly matched all the post codes to the areas, so yeah I think I am” may not be the best answer to the question, they will proceed to fire random post codes at you to name the city, and yes, you will get every single one of them wrong!

Unfortunately all of the above really did happen, but I can confirm that I am in employment and have *almost* learnt from my mistakes.  

Coinciding with all this wedding talk happening at the moment, I will leave you with a picture which I hope will remind all bridesmaids that even when you think your not been photographed, you probably are, and therefore, any embarrassing face you pull will be picked up on the official photos…………

Why I love the milk float ...

Well well well, it HAS been a long time since I updated.  I am going to share a storey with you about my near death experience that happened whilst living in Canterbury. 

My life was saved by a milk float.  That’s right people I owe my life to a milkman and his rickety old milk float. 

Let me set the scene…. It’s 3.30am I am wondering home with Maria McGilesinian.  We are lost.  So lost. We’ve recently moved house and we’ve not too familiar with the roads especially in the dark.  It’s late.  It’s cold.  It’s a dangerous world out there.  Especially for a shark like myself.  People often do not understand that I am a shark with a heart.  When I’m on dry land I cannot rely on my mermaids to protect me.  I thought I would never get home, we tried everything; rubbing a street lamp in the hope a genie might appear, clicking our shoes together chanting “there’s no place like home”, I dropped a penny on the floor in the hope it would bring me good luck, I even raided the bins for a chicken foot.  And then, just as I was about to engrave my will onto my fin and admit defeat, a milk float approached, it slowed down, the driver looked at us, smiled and asked if we were ok.  We explained how we were lost, very lost.  We gave our address and he chuckled to himself and said get on. I dread to think what would have happened had that milk float not appeared.  A world without McCruickshark just doesn’t bare thinking about.   So on we hopped to this nice milk float, he then drives…literally just round the corner….and there before us was our lovely new home with the nice black door.  A little embarrassed at how close we were, but still managed to nab ourselves two free bottles of milk.  We get inside, relieved to be in the warmth and rest our tired little feet, and I go to put the milk in the fridge… CRASH BANG WALLOP… that’s right I’d forgotten about that step into the kitchen and fallen flat on my face covered in milk.

From that day onwards whenever we went out we left a trail of bread crumbs just like Hansel and Gretel.  Worse case if the trail doesn’t lead us to our house least I get a house made of cakes and sweets.

The time I got in the wrong car (!)

Yes folks, I have indeed fallen victim to the rare but still very traumatic 'I get confused which is my car syndrome'.

Let me explain... I had just experienced Point 3 from my petrol station madness post. So was, understandably, a little flustered. I'd parked at Tesco, gone to get a few bits and pieces in a rush, hurried back to 'my' car and decided to eat my sushi box before I drive home. I looked down and saw the gear stick, a really nice, sort of sparkly gear stick. Then I looked at my nice clean, somewhat bigger than I thought, dashboard and began to feel really quite satisfied with my car. My seat was comfy, my dashboard was large, there was a rather nice smell and I had sparkles on my gear stick!

So there I sat, munching away on my sushi and started to think about my life and how I clearly don't appreciate the things I have. Just as I was about to discard my sushi box onto my passenger floor I noticed something. The floor was clean...there was definitely something wrong. Something very very wrong. That was when it dawned on me, after 10 minutes of me re evaluating my life and feeling all warm and fuzzy inside knowing things clearly aren't as bad as I think, it turns out I'm not in my car at all.

Then I saw my knackered little Corsa parked next to this snazzy little number. I get in my car, discard MY sushi box on MY floor, and drive home safe in the knowledge that my car is in fact a shit heap, things are as they seem in my life and you can get sparkly accessories for gear sticks!

Wanted!!!

A rare opportunity has become available in my tank...

I am looking for a male shark who is tall with dark eyes and thick brown curly hair. You must be available on a Sunday preferably afternoons to accompany me on nice walks.

If you are rich and a good cook that would be an advantage, but I will accept applicants with a willingness to rob a bank and enroll on a cookery course.

Previous petrol station experience is essential, along with a functional sat nav which I can use.

Please be aware that I am a very busy person and this excellent opportunity is only available on a Sunday and for a trial period of time over the summer, extensions may be considered if your lucky.

All succesful aplicants will be contacted and asked to atend the interviews scheduled for the 31st April.

Due to equal opportunities I am unable to discriminate but I would strongly advise people who are either poor, bald, shorter than 5''4, female, or have a Rhino allergy not to bother. I think we can safely say your application will be lost in the Atlantic.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Petrol Station Madness

I'm beginning to think perhaps I'm just not cut out for driving. Let me share with you a sequence of events...

Petrol Stations. They have previously been the source of sever embarrassment for me:

1) I have driven into the petrol pumps.

2) I have parked so far away from the pump that it wouldn't stretch far enough to reach the hole thing where the petrol goes in. Ended up practically straddling the pump trying to stretch it around.

3) I have got to the petrol station tried, for a good 15 minutes to open my petrol cap only to fail. I even attempted to prize it open with my bare hands which incidentally made my fingers bleed, in the end I gave up and drove home. It was later confirmed, by someone with a functional brain, that there is a) nothing wrong with my car, and b) that I actually need to unlock my petrol cap before attempting to open it.

4) Been so heavy handed with my petrol cap that it snapped right off in my hands.

5)Parked so close to the pump that after a huge struggle to get out of the car I couldn't for the life of me get back in. I mean I was SERIOUSLY close to the pump. It was embarrassing. People were waiting for my pump but I just couldn't squeeze in. So yes, I admit it, I climbed through my window whilst in a mini denim skirt. I laughed. The people waiting for the pump were laughing. And when I got home and shared this with my family, they not only laughed but also pointed out that I could have just gone through the passenger door.

So to conclude, those mini clips you find on you tube with people causing all sorts of chaos at petrol stations are real, and more than likely ME!

23 years old and still can't dress myself.

Well it's now 2010 and I have been officially awful at updating this blog, but alas I am back and ready to entertain.

Firstly a little update, I am, unfortunately, still human, but I noticed some of my teeth are beginning to go a bit more pointy and shark like. It's a slow process changing into a shark, but it will be worth the wait. My Australian tan has now vanished, and my teeth are back to normal colour. Turned out the whitening gel wasn't permanent thank goodness. I haven't had any more train disasters, partly due to the purchase of a car. That's right people, I am on the roads and yes you should beware I'm a terrible driver.

I have been having a few problems with my clothing recently. I'm now managing to dress myself okay and have had no more flashing incidents, but its when I come to remove my clothes everything falls apart. A little while back I was planning my outfit for a weekend away, and thought I'd give one of my newish dresses a trial. So I put it on, did the usual twists and turns in the mirror and decided it was a maybe. Went to take it off, and couldn't for the life of me get it off, I tried everything, every odd position I could think off, nothing. The result? I slept in it, wore it to work, wore it to my friends, slept in it again, got drunk, confessed to friends that said dress is stuck. It took three people to get it off me. I knelt on the floor, hands over my head. One friend stood on the bed pulling one side, another friend pulling the other side and the third friend assisting with the bottom of the dress.

I thought I had put that episode behind me. I really thought I had. Until about two weeks ago, I was getting ready for work, I put on my coat, did up the zip, and the zip started coming apart from the bottom. I tried to take it off but couldn't, and I really didn't have the time to keep trying as I was running late. Our office at work is usually cold I thought I could get away with it. So I arrive to work, and manage an hour before starting to feel really quite hot. Eventually I had to seek assistance. But this time I knew the routine, bend legs, arms above head, coat off, self respect...gone. It's a little like the hokey cokey ''knees bent, arms stretched, raa raa raa''

That is all for now.

Flashing on Trains

I went to visit a friend last week, Catrinder McWinder Wiffendorinian. It was a lovely day and we enjoyed a nice picnic. I did get chased by a fat duck which I didn’t enjoy but nevertheless it was a lovely day. On my way back to the Borough I asked a nice woman on the information desk at the station if she could tell me how to get to Peterborough. She looked at me oddly but that may have been because I was humming the Sesame Street Song, but I changed the lyrics in my head to Peterborough it went like this,

“Can you tell me how to get, how to get to PETERBOROUGH!”

Goodness knows how my song writing skills have been overlooked for so long. Had I been able to write our Eurovision song I think we could have been onto a winner.

As I got on my train and sat on my seat, I noticed a few people were staring at me but I thought that was due to my Simon Cowell teeth. They do glow a bit in certain lighting. There was a bit of an incident regarding our toothpaste when I was away. Turns out me and Sammy Mc Coxinian have been cleaning our teeth with extreme whitening gel for the last two months. I have been trying to understand how such a mistake happened but have yet to conclude on that one.

Anyway, the ticket man came and I noticed him looking at me strangely and also noticed his eyes staring a little south from my face. I thought he was a bit of a perve, until I happened to glance down and notice my new top from H&M had fallen right down and was resting on my stomach. My brown tights were pulled up to just under my off-white strapless grotty bra all of which were on full show. Why did no one tell me? People of Sheffield, you let me down.

Trains have never been my strong point, I have a history of getting on the wrong trains, I have a history of ‘forgetting’ to pay, and now thanks to H&M’s poor quality I have a history of flashing.

A message

This is a message to all men. When you use toilets, especially unisex large toilets please can you put the lid back because I tried to sit on a toilet seat earlier this week and ended up in it.

I probably should have checked the seat was down before I sat on it.

I probably should have better balance.

I probably could have waited until I got home.

But I didn’t and as a result I ended up with a wet bum.

That is all.

G' Day

I have made a lifestyle decision that I am going to become one of those people that get to hold Koalas all day every day. They are so cute, especially when there stoned which is almost all the time, its like the perfect animal! I am also rather in love with Kangaroos, I got to feed them in the wild and it was the best thing ever. My travel buddy Samantha McCoxinan has decided to scrap being a lawyer and become a dolphin trainer, because the men are all gorgeous and there good with Dolphins and good with kids = the perfect man!

So far in Oz I've had a few unfortunate incidents regarding flashing and a weird foot fetish man that offered $1500 to suck on my toes and a few other rude things, I cant say I was impressed with that, I'm at least worth $5000.

I've seen wild dolphins and been swimming in shark infested waters with my sharky friends, I had a run in with a sea lion which involved the little bugger sneezing on me and covering me from head to toe in snot, and believe me those things have A LOT of snot in there noses! It was gross and it smelt, and if I'm honest I think I even swallowed a bit. I've been stung by a jellyfish, broken one camera so far and drank more goon than I think is humanly possible. I also got swept out to sea on a Kayak and had to be rescued because I got stuck in a storm, apparently they almost had to call search and rescue for me because I was so far out and I was holding my oar up because that's what you do when your in trouble but it was acting as a sail (which I didn't realise!) and was sending me further away, silly me !

I love Oz and think I might have to find a way to live here for ever and ever, the beaches are amazing, and the weather is the best its not even summer and it's boiling! I even have a bit of colour, and also a lot more cellulite, but I guess we can't have it all!

Toodle Pips!

Oz!

I thought I had better inform you all that the shark of all sharks is off on a little adventure to the land of Oz. Ever since my failed arson attempt in my office I've realised I'm a lot safer in the other side of the world.It has taken a lot of organisation and planning, which as many of you will know, is most definitely not my strong point. But I can finally announce that I am flight tested, insured, packed - with what appears to be the entire contents of a small pharmacy, and in possession of a valid passport.

I met my friend today for a coffee and a natter, we were chatting about how well I had done in getting everything sorted. She was both surprised and impressed. That was until it came to her second question...have you got your dollars. I totally forgot the money. It was all going so well. Question one...have you packed? Answer Yes. Question two...have you got your money? Answer SHIT...NO! I had a few dollars that people had given me but that was it. It just hadn't occurred to me that I might need money. Coffee was followed by a rather frantic trip to the Holiday Hypermarket where I purchased my dollars. I try and avoid the Holiday Hypermarket at all costs, me and my friend once thought it would be funny to ask for a plane ticket to Iraq. It turns out that the staff there didn't share our sense of humour.That is all for now, I will be back to inform you all of my REAL shark, jellyfish and kangaroo experiences so stay tuned its about to get fun!

My arson attempt

I left the heater on at work last week. It was a very old heater, but I liked it. I liked it so much I decided it was too good to only be on during office hours, so I gave it an all nighter treat. Unfortunately not everyone agreed with my secret treat for the heater. I think leaving it next to a wooley cardigen may have been a bit of a over sight. But sadly the heaters illegal party was caught, and the poor thing was thrown out in the skip like an old shitty wardrobe. Aparently leaving a heater on over night is a fire risk. I miss the heater, it had so much to live for, but alas, it's gone. Gone but not forgotten. It will always have a special place in my heart.

I will leave you with a very special letter I wrote on the day I had to say bye to the heater...

"Dearest heater,
Thank you so much for keeping me warm, because of you I never got goosepimples.
Love your beloved Sharky pants"

The Belfast adventure

I somehow managed to survive Belfast! It was a very nice few days break. A few disasters including almost missing our plane due to getting carried away in Frankie an Bennies, but alas we made it.

The plane was a bit bumpy but that's what you get when you travel cheap. I love Ryanair they even play a cute little personal song when you take off and land ''lets fly, lets fly, fly, fly, ryanaire'' I'm thinking of using it as my X -Factor audition song, I'd like to stand out and I think this might well be the perfect way.

Once we arrived at Belfast and we managed to find our B & B we were given the choice of two bedrooms. One upstairs or one downstairs. My friend Catrinder McWinderwiffendorinian announced to the lady showing us around that we would like a room as far away from people as possible because ''we are quite noisy''. I'm not exactly sure what the lady thought she meant, and she did look somewhat bemused, and continued to show us a room with a big double bed and a single bed. Just in case there was any confusion regarding our relationship I decided to make a big point about me sleeping on the single bed letting Catrinder McWinderwiffendorinian take the double bed. At which point Catrinder clearly not noticing that this lady thinks were a couple says ''Oh its ok Clare you can just get in with me''. The look on the Lady's face was a classic.

The next day after breakfast we went out shopping for the day, and when we returned only the double bed had been made...

We also got to see the lights being turned on in Belfast, and I had the luxury of watching Same Difference Sing. Is it just me or does everyone seem to think about dancing burgers and hot dogs when watching Same Difference perform?

Belfast here I come

I'm off to Belfast on Saturday with my friend Catrinder McWinder Wiffendorinian; for all my long standing fans, this is the same Catrinder McWinder Wiffendorinian that I went to Madrid with earlier in the year.

And, as per usual, the organisation is shockingly poor. I was on the phone to Catrinder earlier and I had a few questions regarding the trip. Just some simple questions like... What time are the flights? What airport are we flying into? Where are we going to stay in Belfast? What time do we get back on Wednesday? It turns out, between the both of us, the only thing we know is that we have booked into a B and B somewhere in Belfast and we fly out there some time on Saturday. Tomorrow's lunch break will be spent ringing various B and B's in Belfast asking if we have booked with them, whilst Catrinder Mcwinder Wiffendorinian will try and sift through the emails to try and find our flight times.

Work has been a lot nicer this week, with no more important news that involves a mail merge of over 3,000 letters. I've also managed avoid guiding people which means that no one has been sat on the wrong chair, no one has been told were taking a right when were actually taking a left, and no one has had to ensure the most scariest guiding experience of their lives. They say practise makes perfect but in my case I'm not convinced.

I will leave you all with a picture of what happens to me after a bottle or two of wine....