All things unnecessary

Trip Start May 27, 2010
Trip End Aug 31, 2011

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Flag of United Kingdom  , England,
Monday, November 7, 2011

It was Halloween this week. Does anybody really care? When did this American tradition suddenly take over the world?

I don't get the whole sentiment of saying "Happy Halloween" either. What is there to be happy about? Being annoyed by not so scary ghouls? Being happy about carved pumpkins that could in fact have helped some number of starving people in famine-struck parts of the world avoid starvation? I wasn't impressed at the prospect of opening the door to some shitty little kids wearing stupid cheap outfits and demanding treats from complete strangers. So Phil and I decided before the event that if there were any knocks at the door then we would do either of the following:

1. Not answer the door.

2. Tell the little turds to please go away (in less polite terms).

3. Open the door and hand the kids a banana and say "don't eat it all at once".

Despite not wanting to entertain the stupid notion of Halloween, we were somewhat disappointed when no kids came knocking at the door. With all the planning we'd put in to how we were going to greet the trick or treaters, we were let down by not being able to unleash our planned responses.

And on Tuesday it was evident that Halloween was over for another year, when walking into the supermarket all the shelves that were adorned with Dead Heads chocolates and glow in the dark pumpkins had been restocked, but with Christmas stuff. "Right, Halloween's over, bring out the Christmas stuff."

With Christmas comes the Grinch. That might well be me, but not at Christmas time, because I love Christmas. My grinchiness comes out every other time of the year. Or maybe I'm just a grumpy bum. See the example below anyway.

A girl at work, regularly sends around an email to a group of people, some of which are men, saying she's on leave on Monday, or that she's doing her filing, or that she's going to the toilet. OK well she doesn't tell us when she's going to the toilet, but I've made it clear that she sends emails to let people know her movements. Not bodily. Anyway. At the end of the polite little ditty is a "x". What does that x mean exactly? And how it is to be interpreted? X marks the spot? X as in "kisses"? Does she love me? If she does, I'm a little bit freaked out. I personally don't think it's necessary to put an x at the end of your work-related email, especially when it's being sent to members of the opposite sex, and members of your team that you barely even know. In which case, can that be deemed as harassment? I don't know. But what I do know is that the letter x, on its own, has no place in an office. Just saying.


See, it's OK for me to do that because this isn't a work email.

Anyway, when the working week was over I went home in the rain and greeted my future husband and we went out for dinner with his family for his Dad's 60th birthday. I'd asked Phil earlier in the day "can we get drunk tonight?" and he said he'd already told his work that he wouldn't be in over the weekend. Yesssss, I thought. Friday night drinks are the best.

We had a lovely dinner at the King's Head, followed by a couple of drinks at The Plough.  After that, all three backseat drivers got back in the car with Gill at the wheel.  Phil and I were dropped off at the Hares & Hounds after I successfully directed the driver to our destination.  Given my semi-cohesive instructions, I thought I was OK and hadn't drunk too much. But it only took a sniff of Addlestones and I was away.  I logged in to the pub's wifi and Skyped Ben who text me later to remind me that I was telling him that I like the orange Tic Tacs the best. 

Saturday morning therefore wasn't very nice, and Phil did what he does best and went to get the McDonalds.  We didn't rise until well into the afternoon, and when we finally did, I managed to be productive for a little while, cleaning the floors, ordering invitations for our parties and discovering a new and better way of making dumplings, before heading back to bed for a couple more hours.  I was woken a few times by the cracking sounds of the fireworks being let off all around town given that it was Guy Fawkes night.  We had Dan's birthday drinks later that night in town, so getting up a couple of hours later saw us in better shape and ready to get back on the beers.  We didn't stay too long at the pub, and went home to get some takeaway and watch the X Factor.  It was so crap that I fell asleep and had to go up to bed, knowing that first thing in the morning I'd have to get up to chat to Mum and Jacci on Skype. 

I got up at about 6.15 and set up the laptop to show them the outfit I've put together to wear when Phil and I get married.  I thought I'd pull the coffee table over to stand on to give them a better view of the whole outfit.  The view wasn't very good though, because the table underneath me started creaking and moving, and before I knew it the heel of my shoe had gone through the surface of the table and I had to jump off before my whole body went through.  I was mortified and told Phil as soon as I got back upstairs, knowing that covering up the hole with last month's Marie Claire wouldn't keep the secret for long.  That, and the fact that I'm hopeless keeping secrets!


This week will mark 5,000 views since I began writing my blog over a year ago.  5,000 views - that's amazing.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think so many people would want to read my trash talk.  Thanks to those who do bother to read it, it makes me feel like I actually have something worthwhile to say. 
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Ben Eaton on

Woohoo! 5000 hits! More fun than an S&M parlour! Love the blogs Heids, almost as much as drunken skype calls in the middle of my weekend :) PS what is it with you breaking furniture over there? Is it your way of telling Philo that you need new stuff? How's the outdoor furniture going? Replaced? You falling through that chair is still to this day one of the funniest things Ive ever seen. Loves it.
Righto. Keep the blogs comin'!


(Is it ok that I used that??)

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