fudge it

me: Picture the scene - all the passengers on the bus looking very tense as it slowly moves towards the area hit by the tornado, and then the silence is broken by the sound of me slurping on my Strawberry Ribena.
brian: You're a class act, Gairl. Did you burp & spill too - for the full effect?
me: Give me credit! (chewed on my straw)

bushra | permalink | |

you've gotta wonder what you're doing in the office when you send an email to about ten people, and get five out of office replies. and you could have got one more if someone had remembered to switch theirs on. that's it, i know what i'm doing. i'm avoiding tornadoes. getting home will be a drag, innit.

bushra | permalink | |

bah.

2 shopping trips with sisters #1, #2 and #4 yesterday. all day yesterday. they got me with the 'oh, we're only going to the one shop, come on' line.

sister #2: so what did you think of the sandals i got? those crystal things on them are really good, aren't they?
sister #4: i think they're really nice. i think sister #1 should get them too.
me: i'll pick some up for you tomorrow if you want?
sister #1: yeah ok.
sister #2: but. but i don't want her to have the same shoes as me!
sister #4: listen you. if it's ok for me and sister #5 to wear matching shoes, then it's ok for you and sister #1.
sister #2: ...

even later:

sister #2: i don't think bushra's going to be talking to us after this.
me: i'm not talking to you now.

my advice? avoid soho road. i almost passed out from walking past each shop and alternately getting hit by the smell of perfumes, hot wax, incense and fried food.

bushra | permalink | |

thought for the week: seek out simple pleasures.

'approach something with your full attention and an open mind. and you'll find pleasure and complexity in it. a bunch of grapes. or a glass of water. or a field of grass. or a sky of clouds. all of such things can lead to calm'.

bushra | permalink | |

i've had to email a post to blogger because blogger.com is all messed up. this would have been a post about how i've been sending pictures of a sleeping snoring office person to J, but oh well. you're going to have to wait until monday to find out what that was all about.

update:

J: Is that him ASLEEP?

bushra | permalink | |

you're going so slow you're going to come to a stop.

i bet everyone has already done radioblogclub by now, oh-so-hip har has it loaded on her website and everything (my favourite track on her playlist: a tie between the 'galang sholay remix' and 'lady madonna'. and the streets! argh!). but how cool is it? load a whole bunch of favourites on there (ok, i only have four, but still, this is just the beginning innit) and listen online kinda thing using the juke blog link (you can listen to my playlist but you have to register first) or play it on your pc (winamp in my case, uh oh brackets again). i'm doomed, i tell you.

(oh, and it's seven titles now. still a long way to go.)

bushra | permalink | |

grr.

actually, no. maybe that should be a 'hmmm'. i don't mind that sister #4 waited until we got home before she explained that the smashed glass panel in one of the doors was because brother #4 and sister #5 had been fighting again. i suppose it's ok, they felt really really stupid after and both muttered 'it was my fault'. i don't think it'll happen again soon. you know what was funny? when i got home yesterday the dad had taken all the sharp bits out and was going to get a replacement panel, but until then there's this hole in the door. when the nosy neighbour came round she thought it had been all fixed up. 'yes it looks much better now' she said and when she tried to touch the 'new glass' her hand went right through the door.

and then this morning, i heard this really really loud crash in the kitchen, but unlike the mother and sister #1 who were also awake at the time, i didn't bother to go see what it was. you know, you hear one loud crash and you've heard them all, innit. the dad was trying to shift a giant fridge that was much taller than him.

ooh look, a message:

Help! We are in a strange place and thirsty.

Thank you so much -
from the plants

that's my friday reminder from office neighbour to water the plants. be gone!

bushra | permalink | |

wednesday. and i can't believe i haven't mentioned the scoubidou i made up all by myself. i'm calling it the snake stitch. whaddaya think?

bushra | permalink | |

me: oooh, interesting...
S: ...
me: ...
S: ...
me: what?
S: oh, nothing.
me: can't i even talk to myself at my desk anymore?!
S: no.

bushra | permalink | |

message sent.

me: maybe i should post an advert. wanted. can you pretend to be me for a few weeks while i go and get married and move house and job? argh!

i've decided. i'm going to hunt for guest bloggers to go crazy on fudge it for a few weeks. so watch your inbox and start digging out those fake 'delivery failed' notices in case i bother you.

only one FAQ so far:

Question: 'If I help you out does it mean that I've got to move into your house...so that I can keep everyone up to date with the goings on of Brother #3, Auntie #12 and Niece #3 etc..???'

Answer: for taking up residency in fudgeit towers, make sure you bring prozac.

bushra | permalink | |

so last week.

so anyway, following an email thread discussing, let me see, Muslim girls in black, Satanic sailors, the BNP, that history thing on your internet browser, eventually, eventually you just know the conversation will turn to Big Brother:

me: I've stopped reading papers and stuff. All part of my dumbing down process. Even stopped reading Heat (again). We were talking about Big Brother at the work lunch yesterday. N sat there covering her ears and shouting 'La La La' because she hates it. Five weeks without Big Brother. I think I did well.
J: I can remember back in 1999 when the first BB was broadcast, I'd been reading about it for weeks in advance, and I was appalled by the idea of a load of loud, stupid, vain, wannabe-tv-presenters showing off on television. I expected it to be like that a cross between Celebrity Love Island and Hollyoaks. But the first episode I accidentally caught was mostly about Nick Bateman, so naturally I was immediately hooked. I can understand why people say they hate it, but you invariably find that they haven't watched it. Just because BB is cynical, exploitative, manipulative, sadistic and now a corporate brand, I don't necessarily accept that that makes it lowbrow. I think if you liked Shakespeare, you would like Big Brother. If you have any sense of curiosity whatsoever about human behaviour, you would like Big Brother. In fact, if you don't like Big Brother, you should go to the doctor and have your pulse taken, because you're probably dead.

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thought for the week: select your company well.

'as harsh as it may sound, mixing with highly stressed people will make you feel stressed. on the other hand, mixing with calm people - even for the briefest period - will leave you feeling calm'.

bushra | permalink | |

office move is complete. now installed on third floor, stop. great news, there is air conditioning! i now own a goat, a pot and two remarkable pencils! N is not sure about the position of her desk, bad feng shui with your back to the door innit (i got the window, and facing the door, lucky me), but hang on she has just sent me a message:

"Are you there? Why has that woman got an inflatable penguin on her desk???? Next to the fluffy dog? One wonders what her house looks like?? Weird being here innit?"

bushra | permalink | |

i was going to blog about something this morning, but then i forgot what it was. now i remember: i got my phone back after i sent it for repair last week. what the phone people didn't tell me was the phone would be reset, so my contacts, nokia wallet and email settings are all gone. the thing with this phone is when i first used it it offered to copy my contacts from my sim to my phone. so i hit yes. what i didn't know was it would delete the contacts off my sim too. oh so helpful.

me: i had that many numbers on my phone, i was like, y'know, popular.
S: oh aye...
me: and now i'm like this social outcast. i've got two numbers on there. that's it. and those aren't family numbers either.

if i had your number, i don't anymore. so send me a text or something. also: don't do what i always do and leave your name out of the message.

bushra | permalink | |

thought for the week.

office neighbour found some old calendar notes while she was clearing out and packing her stuff (we're moving to another floor). they feature a thought for the day, and office neighbour must have kept the noteworthy ones. i managed to grab them so i can post one here every week. no, you don't have to thank me, it's all part of the service.

'CLEAR OUT THE CLUTTER: Physical disarray adds to the tension of life. Clearing out the clutter is an orderly way to calm.'

how appropriate.

bushra | permalink | |

i think this is my first official request for a scoubidou:

'Bushra, if I ask nicely could you please, please, please make a scoubidou for C, as I am conscious that she is one of the few children at the crèche without a scoubidou accessory!!

Something simple will do...but it must be in PINK or else it will clash with her tweenie boots (which she insists on wearing even in the hottest weather).'

i'm going to make it today, plus a few others need finishing off. then i'm going to stop for a bit.

bushra | permalink | |

argh, it was so hot yesterday. although it might just be me. no, it isn't. look, one of the neighbour's kids:



i doubt you can see them but his hands are loaded with waterbombs. we've got this giant fan, but niece #3 won't stop playing with it. first she sent it crashing to the floor. and then she found if you stand near the protective grill and speak very loud, it can distort your voice. so she got really close and said "B! E! O! ME! YOU! WOO!" but didn't realise the fan was on that mode where it turns around so it tapped the side of her face, making her jump back. which was funny.

bushra | permalink | |

hmm.

remember those massive fireworks they had in birmingham for the millenium celebrations? or the earthquake? or what about the major bomb scare on saturday night? yeah well. i slept through all of them.

bushra | permalink | |

stop making sense.

1.
office neighbour: back of your throat hurting?
me: yes...
office neighbour: do you feel like you want to scratch your eyes?
me: er...
office neighbour pretends to claw her eyes out.
me: they feel a bit ticklish?
office neighbour: yes, that's hay fever. i'm sorry.

2.
me: I can't believe it. I've got hayfever. Every time I put my contacts in my eyes start stinging, that's if I've managed to get them wide awake and
open. (Also: specsavers now do contacts and solution for a tenner a month. Where are yours, eh? and if I hadn't read this email before I sent it, it would have been 'my eyes start singing')
J: 'My eyes start singing'; what a lovely line for a song. I may quite possibly have to thieve that without telling you. Oh bugger. Told you.

3.
me: you know, it is OK to talk to yourself sometimes, i read it somewhere.
S: yes, but is it normal?
me: i don't know, but it is OK, okay? ...there, that should do it.
S: yes. that should do it(!)
me: oh, i was just talking about this email i sent. i had to send one of our standard answers because he's another one asking about those thingywhatsits.
S: of course. the thingywhatsits.
me: argh! what is happening?!

bushra | permalink | |

meetings. the practical alternative to work.

J: 11:00am: team meeting. Everybody sits at the table. C tells S it's her turn to chair. S says it's C's turn. C says that she isn't chairing anymore, she's delegated it to us. S says she thinks the line manager should chair too. C says she doesn't. C leaves the room to fetch something. Suddenly, and without warning, S emits an extremely loud and long scream and throws her pencil and papers across the room. S #2 spills her tea all over the desk. There is what you might call a pregnant pause before C comes back.

C: "What was that?"
S: "I was just ... letting out some tension."
C: "Well I don't think that that is acceptable behaviour."

Suffice to say, the remainder of the meeting has a somewhat tense atmosphere.

bushra | permalink | |

blah blah blah. shall i sum up lunchtime conversation by using a few select words from the follow up emails? better not. oh go on then. you had vomitariums and, and, ah forget it.

M: the more i think about it, the more we need to have bushra's picture up on the work website.
me: it's a shame these scissors aren't sharp.
the authority: oh no, that can be a good thing too!

later.

the authority: is everybody happy?
M: yes...
me: yeah...
M: you're not pretending to be a blue peter presenter are you?
the authority: i'd love to be a blue peter presenter! a dream job!

bushra | permalink | |

blog this...


because i can't think of anything else.

bushra | permalink | |

i went to leeds...

me: ...and all i got you was this hyperlink. notice how i didn't call it a stupid hyperlink? that's cos it's a cool hyperlink, innit. ow. i'm so tired, i got home late, and then i sat in the kitchen at 23.30 after i mopped the floor and watched it dry.
J: an excellent link. i will study it in more detail later.

also: look. no, wait, listen. a little piece of art (more info here). you're welcome.

bushra | permalink | |