Showing posts with label I amuse myself. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I amuse myself. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
There is a land called Passive Aggressiva & I am their Queen ...
February 2007
My writing is the (snarky) Black Pen*
These are the things you find when you accidentally** delete ALL your photos off your MacBook then promptly panic and download them ALL*** from Flickr and then have to use the iPhoto autosplit magic to organise them in to sets because, lord knows, they cannot just sit in the programme with no semblance of order****.
A caveat: I was very annoyed. The blue pen writing belongs to a co-worker I was less than fond of, and she was making a big fat deal about her personalisation of a shared desk. Sigh.
She was lucky I didn't start on the X of thanks.
* I only ever use black pen. It's a thing.
** Yes I am an idiot.
** Around Six THOUSAND photos.
*** Ahh my slight ocd rears it's delightful little head.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Tattoo: Ewww Edition
This is my Rose Tattoo 5 days into the healing process.
Yes. It itches. A lot. No, I do not scratch it. Yes. this is EXTREMELY annoying.
(Shh, Mum, it is still totally worth it)
But more than anything else, it reminds me of this:
Ironic really, as it's the result of an addition to my personal colour scheme.
(cute notepad from www.nutandbee.com)
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Word of the Day: Purlicue
(PUHR-li-kyu)
noun:
1. The space between the extended forefinger and thumb.
2. A flourish or curl at the end of a handwritten word. Also known as curlicue.
3. A discourse, especially its summarizing part.
I heart wordsmith.org
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Silver lining?
My darling sister is AT THIS MOMENT* somewhere between Hong Kong and Auckland.
She is coming home to attend our grandmother's funeral (we pick her up tomorrow morning!**) and because she is an adorable little inconvenience Craig and I have had to relegate our luxurious dressing room slash upstairs lounge to her, I presume, bag full of dirty laundry (she has been gone for some months now) and sleepy little head.
As such I have had to remove all my day to day necessities from that room and place them strategically around the room Craig and I currently inhabit. (It is frankly distressing how much I consider to be "necessities"***). Oh, he will just lovelovelove it when I turn the light on at 5:30am to straighten my hair, he normally sleeps until after 6:20am. Silly man.
I am finding this to be an incredibly boring job. And! Noone else is home to notice just how ridiculously lazy I am being so, in the last hour alone I have:
1. Watched 3 makeup tutorials on youtube.
2. Synced my iPhone so I have new podcasts to listen to while I get on with cleaning (ha).
3. Iced my cupcake tattoo using a fuchsia sharpie.
4. Reshaped my eyebrows (hooray for makeup tutorials)
5. Spent too too long on Twitter.
6. Realised my list was much longer than 140 characters.
7. Decided to post on this darling website!
8. Written this extraordinarily pointless post.
9. Sigh. Decided to actually tidy the room.
* I'm guessing.
** New Zealand Winter Time starts tonight. We might show up an hour early or an hour late or just on time. Who can say?
*** Copper Boom!
She is coming home to attend our grandmother's funeral (we pick her up tomorrow morning!**) and because she is an adorable little inconvenience Craig and I have had to relegate our luxurious dressing room slash upstairs lounge to her, I presume, bag full of dirty laundry (she has been gone for some months now) and sleepy little head.
As such I have had to remove all my day to day necessities from that room and place them strategically around the room Craig and I currently inhabit. (It is frankly distressing how much I consider to be "necessities"***). Oh, he will just lovelovelove it when I turn the light on at 5:30am to straighten my hair, he normally sleeps until after 6:20am. Silly man.
I am finding this to be an incredibly boring job. And! Noone else is home to notice just how ridiculously lazy I am being so, in the last hour alone I have:
1. Watched 3 makeup tutorials on youtube.
2. Synced my iPhone so I have new podcasts to listen to while I get on with cleaning (ha).
3. Iced my cupcake tattoo using a fuchsia sharpie.
4. Reshaped my eyebrows (hooray for makeup tutorials)
5. Spent too too long on Twitter.
6. Realised my list was much longer than 140 characters.
7. Decided to post on this darling website!
8. Written this extraordinarily pointless post.
9. Sigh. Decided to actually tidy the room.
* I'm guessing.
** New Zealand Winter Time starts tonight. We might show up an hour early or an hour late or just on time. Who can say?
*** Copper Boom!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
My Sister and I are SO cool
Via text message this morning:
Charlotte: I'm inAWEgerated!
Me: The end of an error.
Charlotte: We are awesome.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
It's always encouraging when ...
Your Wii Fit sounds incredulous.
Note: iPhone photo taken just after 5:00am. Hence the gloom. I was awake & exercising before the sun & birds.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Quote of the Day (so far)
We opened presents with my Darling London Sister on Skype. And naturally, the video was playing up (with 10.25 million people online? it's understandable.) so we had to explain every thing we were opening. Painting word pictures.
Sarah: And I just gave Craig a leather strap bracelet. It's real leather, sorry Charlotte.
Charlotte-the-vegetarian: You make the baby Jesus cry.
Sarah: Nuh-uh! Jesus was totally into Leather ... Woah. That came out wrong.
Sarah: And I just gave Craig a leather strap bracelet. It's real leather, sorry Charlotte.
Charlotte-the-vegetarian: You make the baby Jesus cry.
Sarah: Nuh-uh! Jesus was totally into Leather ... Woah. That came out wrong.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Unemployment is hilarious
My temping work has temporarily dried up (sob) and in between frantically applying for permanent positions (fingers crossed!) I have been working on a Stitch'd Ink cross stitch kit.
When I was asking my grandma about borrowing an embroidery ring, I told her that it needed to be large as it was a portrait of a woman standing up. I didn't mention the lack of clothing.
And on top of the cross stitch? I actually, swear-to-everything, made lemonade!
In fact I made Lemon-Vanilla-Honey-Ade from a recipe I found here.
Inside a Black Apple's Lemonade
To Make One Reasonably sized pitcher (serves 6-ish):
1. Make a simple syrup by stirring together 3/4 c of sugar and 1 c water in a small saucepan on low heat, remove when sugar is dissolved
2. Meanwhile, juice about 5 good-sized lemons directly into your pitcher (reserve half your lemon-left-over peels and such)
3. Cool the syrup slightly, and then stir together with the concentrated lemon juice.
At this point I added in a couple of tablespoons of runny-honey. Because I'm basically obsessed with it.
Throw in a teaspoon or so of vanilla and give the whole thing a good stir.
4. Fill 3/4 of the pitcher with cool water.
5. If you're like Emily, toss about 1/2 your juiced-lemon wedges back into the pitcher. I love the taste that it gives! (I just threw in a couple of the least seed-y lemon halves).
6.Serve over tall glasses full to the brim with ice.
I feel absolutely ridiculous!
I should be wearing pearls and heels and a full skirted dress.
In short, I feel like I'm in the 1950s. Bizarre.
When I was asking my grandma about borrowing an embroidery ring, I told her that it needed to be large as it was a portrait of a woman standing up. I didn't mention the lack of clothing.
And on top of the cross stitch? I actually, swear-to-everything, made lemonade!
In fact I made Lemon-Vanilla-Honey-Ade from a recipe I found here.
Inside a Black Apple's Lemonade
To Make One Reasonably sized pitcher (serves 6-ish):
1. Make a simple syrup by stirring together 3/4 c of sugar and 1 c water in a small saucepan on low heat, remove when sugar is dissolved
2. Meanwhile, juice about 5 good-sized lemons directly into your pitcher (reserve half your lemon-left-over peels and such)
3. Cool the syrup slightly, and then stir together with the concentrated lemon juice.
At this point I added in a couple of tablespoons of runny-honey. Because I'm basically obsessed with it.
Throw in a teaspoon or so of vanilla and give the whole thing a good stir.
4. Fill 3/4 of the pitcher with cool water.
5. If you're like Emily, toss about 1/2 your juiced-lemon wedges back into the pitcher. I love the taste that it gives! (I just threw in a couple of the least seed-y lemon halves).
6.Serve over tall glasses full to the brim with ice.
I feel absolutely ridiculous!
I should be wearing pearls and heels and a full skirted dress.
In short, I feel like I'm in the 1950s. Bizarre.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Tales from the graaaaaave ...
In uh, Celebration of the end of my tenure (3 years, 10 months and 11 days ...) at an UNDISCLOSED call centre I have decided to share some of my favourite calls!
Chronologically, from the earliest to the most recent.
me : call centre uber-girl
CG : crotchety gentleman
me : welcome to (undisclosed paint company) you're speaking with Sarah
CG : uhh yes the first sunday of the month- you can take paint in to the store?
me : hm sir you'd be best to check with the store as you've reached the after hours for the technical advice li--
CG : what? why can't you tell me! you SHOULD KNOW. The ALBANY store - you take paint in on the first sunday of the month ... ???
me : well we are here to pass on the contact details of stores, and their hours.
CG : ALBANY. the ALBANY store. we want to take the paint in.
me : okay the number is ***-**** ... but i don't think you can take the paint in there on the first sunday of the month-
CG : what are you saying !?! i thought you didn't know !?!
me : i know the store hours SIR and the albany store is always closed on sundays
CG : .... oh. lets see here ... ohhh WAIRAU PARK. it IS useful talking to you then !!
me : yes sir, have a nice day *headdesk*
The joys of having a common name:
Me : (growling) helloo?
MANAGER : Hi Sarah! wondering if you'd be interested in some extra hours today??
Me : uh john ? i'm in Auckland
MANAGER : Oh! guess you wouldn't be interested then.
Me : yea, not until after the 3rd (when i get back)
MANAGER : ... bu- i thought you'd been put on roster??
Me : (light dawning) oh, i think you've got the wrong Sarah, John, this is Sarah-Rose
MANAGER : Oh no blah blah blah dreadfully sorry.
people amuse me. they amuse me in a very aggravating way.
me : could i have the name of the recipient?
caller : ay?
me : the name of the recipient?
caller : is that where i wanna send it?
me : no, it's the name of the person who is recieving the bouquet
caller : that's what I said *click*
uh no, you said WHERE, i asked for WHO.
caller : i'd like to book in for the 12 ... 12 pm session ... 12 pm HA! that means midnight!!
me : well, no sir, 12am is midnight, 12 pm is noon
caller : hrmpf. we'll have to disagree on that one
me : sure
I just spoke to a most delightful lady who railed at me because I dared imply (And how is that spelled?) that there was more than one spelling to the surname pronounced SM-EYE-TH. Like Smithe and Smyth and Smythe.
I take over a hundred calls each day, I've had it spelled to me each and every way. Names which are homonymous are not neccessarily spelled the same, such as Mckay/Mckie.
Then of course, she pointed out to me in her most disdainful tone that there is a difference between spelling and ProNOUNCE-iation. ha.
A gentleman just called up the WEATHER SERVICE and wanted to know if there was DEFINITELY going to be no rain in christchurch tomorrow.
I told him that definitely is an interesting term to be used with meterology.
me : I'm sorry sir, we don't offer that service through this line but I can give you your local number if you'd like ...
caller : okay, great!
me : ........... I'll need your location sir
caller : (here is usually inserted a snort of derision) oh, WELL it's ********
me : and can i have your surname please?
caller : uh .... uh .... is that your last name?
TWICE. This has happened TWICE in ONE day.
me : can i have your address?
caller : is that your phone number ?
but that kid sounded 4 and adorable.
my boss just rang my phone (an internal call, at work)
boss : did i call you or did you call me?
me : ... uh you called me ...
boss : oh. i must have pushed a button ... there's some kind of call waiting on your phone
I just had a lady go OFF at me because she couldn't understand me. Apparently my "stupid british accent" was too strong for her to understand. This is after she has commented at least THREE times on how bad the line was.
Perhaps it could be the incredible buzzing and distortion on the line that is making it hard for you to understand me ???
me : welcome to ****** ****** ***********, you're speaking with Sarah
caller : hi, Michelle was it?
A caller (from the company who is our tech support for like, EVERYTHING WE USE HERE) just thought that I wouldn't know how to spell his company name, or his name, but that I would magically know that he was calling from Auckland.
The worst thing?
His name was BEN.
me : Welcome to the ********** of *********** recruitment line, you're speaking with Sarah.
caller : Yes, Hi, I'm calling about the Magna Pacific Leather Bag ...
me : I'm sorry? you've reached the ********** of *********** recruitment line, I think you have the wron-
caller : no, this is the number I've called for the Magna Pacific Leather Bag.
me : well, I'm sorry, all we can do on this line is have the ********** of *********** recruitment pack sent out.
caller : no dear, this IS the number to call to get this Magna Pacific Leather Bag so you'r going to-
me : No Ma'am I'm sorry but you really have reached the ********** of *********** recruitment line
caller : this is 0800 **1 **2
me : no ma'am this is 0800 **1 **1 (smirk)
caller : oh - (click)
caller : hey, uhm, I'm filling out this application and it says that I need a Class B drivers Licence ... but uh what if I don't have a licence?
me : well, if it says you need a Class B Licence, (pause) then you need a Class B Licence
caller : oh aye?
me : yea, sorry.
Me : Thanks for calling ****** ****** ***********, you're speaking with Sarah
Caller : Hi, Where are you? Where is your shop?
Me : uh, I'm in Wellington, Sir, our technicians are all over the country but they work oout of their vans.
Caller : So you don't have a shop there?
Me : No, just the office here, our techs work out of their vans.
Caller : oh but I'm looking to get some roller wheels ...
Me : Okay, well I can pass a message on to our technician in your area-
Caller : and I can go to his shop?
Me : No, sir. He works out of his van, he doesn't have a shop.
Caller : oh okay. Can I call him? What is his number?
Me : it is 0274 *** ***
Caller : oh, he doesn't have a landline?
Me : No sir, he works out of his Van.
Caller : oh okay, don't worry about it then. [click]
and then my head exploded.
Me : welcome to ****** ****** ***********, you're speaking with Sarah
Caller : oh yes, hi, I have a commercial aluminium window that has broken struts
Me : okay, well I can have the local tech give you a call and arrange to do that repair for you sir,
Caller : right well we're just down on the waterfront there.
Me: oh we're a nationwide company sir so which waterfront?
Caller : aye?
Me : the waterfront of which city sir? Auckland, Wellington, ...
Caller : Auckland, where are you?
Me : Wellington, sir, so-
Caller : oh Telling-Bone aye? you speak english down there?
Me : ...... excuse m-
Caller : you sound like you speak english ok heh heh heh
Me : oh-kay, well-
Caller : no no don't mind me, I'm just being rude, it's my right
Me : [deepening my voice dramatically] yes sir, you're allowed to be rude and I'm allowed to be annoyed. now can I-
Caller : ho ho! one all! good on ya,
Me : Can I get your name sir?
Caller : don't call me sir, that sets me off. Trevor ***
Me : thank you Trevor, can I get your address ...
And the rest of the call was actually really nice. He stopped being annoying and confrontational and became almost jovial, wishing me a very good day at the end.
caller : the company name is ****** Pro-nounce-iation *****
me : I'm sorry?
caller : ****** ProNOUNCEiation ****
me : ****** ... pro NOUNCE iation?
caller : yes.
me : ... and how are you spelling that?
caller : P-R-O-N-U-N-C-I-A-T-I-O-N
And then my head exploded.
Me : Good morning *******, Sarah-Rose speaking
Caller : Ah yes, can I just go through to the extension please?
Me : sorry, which extension were you after?
Caller : no no I want to go through the extension!
Me : yes, but WHICH extension
Caller : oh, just a second
rustle rustle rustle ... rustle rustle rustle ... rustle rustle
Caller : it's ****
in the middle of a call.
Me : And what title do you go by?
Caller : huh? oh! hah, I don't know, Bitch? ha
Me : uh
Caller : hah, no, uh Mrs.
Me : Hah, okay, thank you.
I was actually speechless!
After deciding that I will organise for an information pack to be sent to him :
Caller : Do you want the first name first or the second name first?
Me : First name first please sir!
Caller : Okay, Smith. S-M-I-T-H
Me : ... Okay and your surname?
Caller : That was the surname. And the first name is John. J-O-H-N
It's times like these that my head and hand feel magnetised.
Easiest call ever!
caller : so this part where it says Programme code? is that were I put the programme code?
me : yes
caller : and where it says Course name? is that were I put the course name?
me : ... yes.
caller : cool thanks
me : ... you're welcome ...
Co-worker : Desiree, that's such a stripper name
Me : ... That's my mother's name!
Co-Worker : Oh ... no! Really?
Me : yes! really! that's never happened to me in real life before.
Caller : so my name is Cassidy Ray
Me : okay ... Cassidy Ray ...
Caller : No no that's Cassidy Rain
Me : Cassidy Rain? right.
Caller : And that's all one name. My surname is ****
Me : Cassidy-Rain? ****?
Caller : And Cassidy's with a K.
Me (incredulous) : Kassidy-Rain? okay ...
Small Victories
talking to a lovely lady regarding a booking for her husband. She gives his surname as Baumgarten and I spell it to her and she replies yes and we move on to the next part of the conversation when I hear in the background a man with an american accent start yelling at her.
Mr Baumgarten : NO! You have to SPELL IT TO HER. B as in BOY, A as in APPLE ...
the phone goes silent and then he's on the line with me. And he's still yelling.
Mr Baumgarten : My Surname is B as in BOY-
Me : Yes sir, I'm aware of that. I spelt it out to the lady I was just speaking to and she confirmed that it was correct.
Mr Baumgarten : Oh. Well.
And he proceeded to be completely horrible for the rest of the call but I still felt a little vindicated.
Me: Welcome to ********, you're speaking with Sarah
Caller: Marmite Marmite Marmite
(click)
Me: What the ....
Interesting Names
(I always forget to note these down)
Female
Veeshayne
Wayna
Kassidy-Rain
Pathfinder
Pepsi
Sally Garden
Male
Celestin
Mr. A. Pauling
Coronation
Nathanial Fairweather
Falstaff
Names I have been called
Vera
Sharon
Karen
Sandra
Christine
Yvonne
Michelle
Cheryl
As of2:30pm 3:30pm* I am now officially unemployed.
For the first time since I was ... 16? fun.
It also makes the trip seem very very close.
*heee! I covered for someone on my last day.
Caller : Thanks Sandra! oops! I mean Sharon, sorry.
Me (Sarah) : ... That's fine. Thank you.
Chronologically, from the earliest to the most recent.
me : call centre uber-girl
CG : crotchety gentleman
me : welcome to (undisclosed paint company) you're speaking with Sarah
CG : uhh yes the first sunday of the month- you can take paint in to the store?
me : hm sir you'd be best to check with the store as you've reached the after hours for the technical advice li--
CG : what? why can't you tell me! you SHOULD KNOW. The ALBANY store - you take paint in on the first sunday of the month ... ???
me : well we are here to pass on the contact details of stores, and their hours.
CG : ALBANY. the ALBANY store. we want to take the paint in.
me : okay the number is ***-**** ... but i don't think you can take the paint in there on the first sunday of the month-
CG : what are you saying !?! i thought you didn't know !?!
me : i know the store hours SIR and the albany store is always closed on sundays
CG : .... oh. lets see here ... ohhh WAIRAU PARK. it IS useful talking to you then !!
me : yes sir, have a nice day *headdesk*
The joys of having a common name:
Me : (growling) helloo?
MANAGER : Hi Sarah! wondering if you'd be interested in some extra hours today??
Me : uh john ? i'm in Auckland
MANAGER : Oh! guess you wouldn't be interested then.
Me : yea, not until after the 3rd (when i get back)
MANAGER : ... bu- i thought you'd been put on roster??
Me : (light dawning) oh, i think you've got the wrong Sarah, John, this is Sarah-Rose
MANAGER : Oh no blah blah blah dreadfully sorry.
people amuse me. they amuse me in a very aggravating way.
me : could i have the name of the recipient?
caller : ay?
me : the name of the recipient?
caller : is that where i wanna send it?
me : no, it's the name of the person who is recieving the bouquet
caller : that's what I said *click*
uh no, you said WHERE, i asked for WHO.
caller : i'd like to book in for the 12 ... 12 pm session ... 12 pm HA! that means midnight!!
me : well, no sir, 12am is midnight, 12 pm is noon
caller : hrmpf. we'll have to disagree on that one
me : sure
I just spoke to a most delightful lady who railed at me because I dared imply (And how is that spelled?) that there was more than one spelling to the surname pronounced SM-EYE-TH. Like Smithe and Smyth and Smythe.
I take over a hundred calls each day, I've had it spelled to me each and every way. Names which are homonymous are not neccessarily spelled the same, such as Mckay/Mckie.
Then of course, she pointed out to me in her most disdainful tone that there is a difference between spelling and ProNOUNCE-iation. ha.
A gentleman just called up the WEATHER SERVICE and wanted to know if there was DEFINITELY going to be no rain in christchurch tomorrow.
I told him that definitely is an interesting term to be used with meterology.
me : I'm sorry sir, we don't offer that service through this line but I can give you your local number if you'd like ...
caller : okay, great!
me : ........... I'll need your location sir
caller : (here is usually inserted a snort of derision) oh, WELL it's ********
me : and can i have your surname please?
caller : uh .... uh .... is that your last name?
TWICE. This has happened TWICE in ONE day.
me : can i have your address?
caller : is that your phone number ?
but that kid sounded 4 and adorable.
my boss just rang my phone (an internal call, at work)
boss : did i call you or did you call me?
me : ... uh you called me ...
boss : oh. i must have pushed a button ... there's some kind of call waiting on your phone
I just had a lady go OFF at me because she couldn't understand me. Apparently my "stupid british accent" was too strong for her to understand. This is after she has commented at least THREE times on how bad the line was.
Perhaps it could be the incredible buzzing and distortion on the line that is making it hard for you to understand me ???
me : welcome to ****** ****** ***********, you're speaking with Sarah
caller : hi, Michelle was it?
A caller (from the company who is our tech support for like, EVERYTHING WE USE HERE) just thought that I wouldn't know how to spell his company name, or his name, but that I would magically know that he was calling from Auckland.
The worst thing?
His name was BEN.
me : Welcome to the ********** of *********** recruitment line, you're speaking with Sarah.
caller : Yes, Hi, I'm calling about the Magna Pacific Leather Bag ...
me : I'm sorry? you've reached the ********** of *********** recruitment line, I think you have the wron-
caller : no, this is the number I've called for the Magna Pacific Leather Bag.
me : well, I'm sorry, all we can do on this line is have the ********** of *********** recruitment pack sent out.
caller : no dear, this IS the number to call to get this Magna Pacific Leather Bag so you'r going to-
me : No Ma'am I'm sorry but you really have reached the ********** of *********** recruitment line
caller : this is 0800 **1 **2
me : no ma'am this is 0800 **1 **1 (smirk)
caller : oh - (click)
caller : hey, uhm, I'm filling out this application and it says that I need a Class B drivers Licence ... but uh what if I don't have a licence?
me : well, if it says you need a Class B Licence, (pause) then you need a Class B Licence
caller : oh aye?
me : yea, sorry.
Me : Thanks for calling ****** ****** ***********, you're speaking with Sarah
Caller : Hi, Where are you? Where is your shop?
Me : uh, I'm in Wellington, Sir, our technicians are all over the country but they work oout of their vans.
Caller : So you don't have a shop there?
Me : No, just the office here, our techs work out of their vans.
Caller : oh but I'm looking to get some roller wheels ...
Me : Okay, well I can pass a message on to our technician in your area-
Caller : and I can go to his shop?
Me : No, sir. He works out of his van, he doesn't have a shop.
Caller : oh okay. Can I call him? What is his number?
Me : it is 0274 *** ***
Caller : oh, he doesn't have a landline?
Me : No sir, he works out of his Van.
Caller : oh okay, don't worry about it then. [click]
and then my head exploded.
Me : welcome to ****** ****** ***********, you're speaking with Sarah
Caller : oh yes, hi, I have a commercial aluminium window that has broken struts
Me : okay, well I can have the local tech give you a call and arrange to do that repair for you sir,
Caller : right well we're just down on the waterfront there.
Me: oh we're a nationwide company sir so which waterfront?
Caller : aye?
Me : the waterfront of which city sir? Auckland, Wellington, ...
Caller : Auckland, where are you?
Me : Wellington, sir, so-
Caller : oh Telling-Bone aye? you speak english down there?
Me : ...... excuse m-
Caller : you sound like you speak english ok heh heh heh
Me : oh-kay, well-
Caller : no no don't mind me, I'm just being rude, it's my right
Me : [deepening my voice dramatically] yes sir, you're allowed to be rude and I'm allowed to be annoyed. now can I-
Caller : ho ho! one all! good on ya,
Me : Can I get your name sir?
Caller : don't call me sir, that sets me off. Trevor ***
Me : thank you Trevor, can I get your address ...
And the rest of the call was actually really nice. He stopped being annoying and confrontational and became almost jovial, wishing me a very good day at the end.
caller : the company name is ****** Pro-nounce-iation *****
me : I'm sorry?
caller : ****** ProNOUNCEiation ****
me : ****** ... pro NOUNCE iation?
caller : yes.
me : ... and how are you spelling that?
caller : P-R-O-N-U-N-C-I-A-T-I-O-N
And then my head exploded.
Me : Good morning *******, Sarah-Rose speaking
Caller : Ah yes, can I just go through to the extension please?
Me : sorry, which extension were you after?
Caller : no no I want to go through the extension!
Me : yes, but WHICH extension
Caller : oh, just a second
rustle rustle rustle ... rustle rustle rustle ... rustle rustle
Caller : it's ****
in the middle of a call.
Me : And what title do you go by?
Caller : huh? oh! hah, I don't know, Bitch? ha
Me : uh
Caller : hah, no, uh Mrs.
Me : Hah, okay, thank you.
I was actually speechless!
After deciding that I will organise for an information pack to be sent to him :
Caller : Do you want the first name first or the second name first?
Me : First name first please sir!
Caller : Okay, Smith. S-M-I-T-H
Me : ... Okay and your surname?
Caller : That was the surname. And the first name is John. J-O-H-N
It's times like these that my head and hand feel magnetised.
Easiest call ever!
caller : so this part where it says Programme code? is that were I put the programme code?
me : yes
caller : and where it says Course name? is that were I put the course name?
me : ... yes.
caller : cool thanks
me : ... you're welcome ...
Co-worker : Desiree, that's such a stripper name
Me : ... That's my mother's name!
Co-Worker : Oh ... no! Really?
Me : yes! really! that's never happened to me in real life before.
Caller : so my name is Cassidy Ray
Me : okay ... Cassidy Ray ...
Caller : No no that's Cassidy Rain
Me : Cassidy Rain? right.
Caller : And that's all one name. My surname is ****
Me : Cassidy-Rain? ****?
Caller : And Cassidy's with a K.
Me (incredulous) : Kassidy-Rain? okay ...
Small Victories
talking to a lovely lady regarding a booking for her husband. She gives his surname as Baumgarten and I spell it to her and she replies yes and we move on to the next part of the conversation when I hear in the background a man with an american accent start yelling at her.
Mr Baumgarten : NO! You have to SPELL IT TO HER. B as in BOY, A as in APPLE ...
the phone goes silent and then he's on the line with me. And he's still yelling.
Mr Baumgarten : My Surname is B as in BOY-
Me : Yes sir, I'm aware of that. I spelt it out to the lady I was just speaking to and she confirmed that it was correct.
Mr Baumgarten : Oh. Well.
And he proceeded to be completely horrible for the rest of the call but I still felt a little vindicated.
Me: Welcome to ********, you're speaking with Sarah
Caller: Marmite Marmite Marmite
(click)
Me: What the ....
Interesting Names
(I always forget to note these down)
Female
Veeshayne
Wayna
Kassidy-Rain
Pathfinder
Pepsi
Sally Garden
Male
Celestin
Mr. A. Pauling
Coronation
Nathanial Fairweather
Falstaff
Names I have been called
Vera
Sharon
Karen
Sandra
Christine
Yvonne
Michelle
Cheryl
As of
For the first time since I was ... 16? fun.
It also makes the trip seem very very close.
*heee! I covered for someone on my last day.
| Days to go | |
| Finishing work | 0 days |
| Leaving Wellington | 10 days |
| Leaving New Zealand | 17 days |
| Arriving Bangkok | 31 days |
| Arriving London | 50 days |
Caller : Thanks Sandra! oops! I mean Sharon, sorry.
Me (Sarah) : ... That's fine. Thank you.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
like the jaws theme only sadder and as performed by Sarah's Inner Voice
Oh please oh please don't hang about inside my head too long, you'll start to notice the faint sobbing that underscores most of my thoughts right now.
Don't worry, it's not terrified or melancholy, just the faint human-violin whine of so many things to do, so many things to get rid of, so many things to buy.
You may know that it's coming up to the point where Craig and I are giving up our little flat and moving back in with my parents. We organised our insurance before we booked our tickets and the month delay caught up with us. So we will live in a very green, very little box room for a month before we leave Wellington. And everything that we are taking to London will live with us for that month before we leave.
This means we have to live out of packs for a month.
When I think about it too hard I hear a sort of keening in my head, like the jaws theme only sadder and as performed by Sarah's Inner Voice.
Granted the pack is over half as tall as I am, and pretty much as wide. But still, I have to pack a whole wardrobe in there!
I have had to ... streamline my wardrobe. No longer do I have 4 pairs of jeans, or 6 jackets of which precisely none are entirely waterproof.
To make it worse we are visiting most disparate climates. New Zealand is cooling (seeping) into the dank moist depths of Autumn (sodden fallen leaves), Australia is likely to be chilly in Melbourne but still warm in the middle-of-nowhere town in New South Wales we are visiting (described in terms of Where it's near. Only noone's heard of those places either), then Bangkok will be just easing out of the hottest part of the year (and I may just melt) and finally we arrive in London for Summer.
I don't half make it difficult for myself. But in the immortal words of Rory Gilmore Packing for all contingencies. Got it. Light layers.
In my desperation for streamlining I also have tried to make sure that most things will go with most other things. This has lead to a wardrobe of Black, White and Grey. I like to think of it as Monochromanticism but really? it's just a little drab. Even though I love Grey, and look great in White (oh the irony) and well, Black is just Black (♥) I still find myself despairing. And so, in a fit of pique last night I lashed out and bought a purple shirt. It is knit with princess sleeves and a teeny tiny knit pattern. And buttons! wow it sounds weird. But it's Aubergine and beautiful.
And now, having completely turned my mood around I will leave you with yet another table :
It's all happening. It's all happening.
Don't worry, it's not terrified or melancholy, just the faint human-violin whine of so many things to do, so many things to get rid of, so many things to buy.
You may know that it's coming up to the point where Craig and I are giving up our little flat and moving back in with my parents. We organised our insurance before we booked our tickets and the month delay caught up with us. So we will live in a very green, very little box room for a month before we leave Wellington. And everything that we are taking to London will live with us for that month before we leave.
This means we have to live out of packs for a month.
When I think about it too hard I hear a sort of keening in my head, like the jaws theme only sadder and as performed by Sarah's Inner Voice.
Granted the pack is over half as tall as I am, and pretty much as wide. But still, I have to pack a whole wardrobe in there!
I have had to ... streamline my wardrobe. No longer do I have 4 pairs of jeans, or 6 jackets of which precisely none are entirely waterproof.
To make it worse we are visiting most disparate climates. New Zealand is cooling (seeping) into the dank moist depths of Autumn (sodden fallen leaves), Australia is likely to be chilly in Melbourne but still warm in the middle-of-nowhere town in New South Wales we are visiting (described in terms of Where it's near. Only noone's heard of those places either), then Bangkok will be just easing out of the hottest part of the year (and I may just melt) and finally we arrive in London for Summer.
I don't half make it difficult for myself. But in the immortal words of Rory Gilmore Packing for all contingencies. Got it. Light layers.
In my desperation for streamlining I also have tried to make sure that most things will go with most other things. This has lead to a wardrobe of Black, White and Grey. I like to think of it as Monochromanticism but really? it's just a little drab. Even though I love Grey, and look great in White (oh the irony) and well, Black is just Black (♥) I still find myself despairing. And so, in a fit of pique last night I lashed out and bought a purple shirt. It is knit with princess sleeves and a teeny tiny knit pattern. And buttons! wow it sounds weird. But it's Aubergine and beautiful.
And now, having completely turned my mood around I will leave you with yet another table :
| Days to go | |
| Moving out | 4 days |
| Finishing work | 17 days |
| Leaving Wellington | 34 days |
| Leaving New Zealand | 41 days |
| Arriving Bangkok | 55 days |
| Arriving London | 74 days |
It's all happening. It's all happening.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
I am miniature. People find this Hilarious.
Disclaimer: I am (in my opinion) just a regular small-sized person. Others would beg to differ. There is nothing (as far as we know) medically causing my lack of ... size, but my mother did smoke while she was pregnant.
This weekend my mother found my diminutive stature frankly, hilarious.
I was sitting in the drivers seat (ssh. more on this later) and I said
Sarah : So, you just push the pedals with your toes then?
Mum : Uh, yea, the balls of your feet.
Sarah : Oh. So your feet are just meant to hang there?
Mum : No, you push the pedals.
Sarah : It's awkward to do that with my toes
Mum : No, the balls of your feet!
Sarah : The balls of my feet don't reach the pedals if my feet are touching the floor of the car!
And every single time she got behind the wheel to reverse or turn us around or steer us around a very solid parked car she looked in the rearview mirror at my other sister (also learning to drive. But she's 15, and much taller than I) and collapse into laughter.
After seeing this I knew that Craig and I would never be able to share a car, he already complains about his new midget driving position when my mother moves the seat. I don't think he'll even be able to get into the car after I've used it!
Which might actually be kind of fun in an Oh godDAMN it Sarah! kind of way.
Oddly enough, I too found it difficult to get out of the car when the seat was pushed up against the steering column.
I guess 5"1 is really that short after all.
This really means that something monumental is happening.
I AM LEARNING TO DRIVE!
After 7 years of conscientious objection I am finally giving in and learning to drive.
More than that! (which is seriously, huge enough news as it is) I am doing so not to settle a score, or to prove my (darling)husband wrong but just because.
Ok. Fine. Not just because but because of an undesirable comparison to someone else who shall not be named (Voldemort!?) who also cannot drive.
My first lesson was this past saturday and when I returned home I found Craig out in the garage and burbled wildly
Sarah : Hey baby, I drove!
Craig : Yea?
Sarah : Yea! I didn't cry or crash or anything. And I went into second gear and turned in a circle!!
Craig : Well done.
He's just glad I haven't been scared off ... yet.
NB: I also have short grandmothers. So it's Genetics vs Cigarettes and I think it's Genetics for the win
This weekend my mother found my diminutive stature frankly, hilarious.
I was sitting in the drivers seat (ssh. more on this later) and I said
Sarah : So, you just push the pedals with your toes then?
Mum : Uh, yea, the balls of your feet.
Sarah : Oh. So your feet are just meant to hang there?
Mum : No, you push the pedals.
Sarah : It's awkward to do that with my toes
Mum : No, the balls of your feet!
Sarah : The balls of my feet don't reach the pedals if my feet are touching the floor of the car!
And every single time she got behind the wheel to reverse or turn us around or steer us around a very solid parked car she looked in the rearview mirror at my other sister (also learning to drive. But she's 15, and much taller than I) and collapse into laughter.
After seeing this I knew that Craig and I would never be able to share a car, he already complains about his new midget driving position when my mother moves the seat. I don't think he'll even be able to get into the car after I've used it!
Which might actually be kind of fun in an Oh godDAMN it Sarah! kind of way.
Oddly enough, I too found it difficult to get out of the car when the seat was pushed up against the steering column.
I guess 5"1 is really that short after all.
This really means that something monumental is happening.
After 7 years of conscientious objection I am finally giving in and learning to drive.
More than that! (which is seriously, huge enough news as it is) I am doing so not to settle a score, or to prove my (darling)husband wrong but just because.
Ok. Fine. Not just because but because of an undesirable comparison to someone else who shall not be named (Voldemort!?) who also cannot drive.
My first lesson was this past saturday and when I returned home I found Craig out in the garage and burbled wildly
Sarah : Hey baby, I drove!
Craig : Yea?
Sarah : Yea! I didn't cry or crash or anything. And I went into second gear and turned in a circle!!
Craig : Well done.
He's just glad I haven't been scared off ... yet.
NB: I also have short grandmothers. So it's Genetics vs Cigarettes and I think it's Genetics for the win
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
My Earrings : Steve McQueen & Charles Bronson (The Cooler King and The Tunnel King)
(excuse the terrible photo of my right ear, but this story requires at least one illustration.)
This morning I woke up and the silver ball of my silver-ball-studs had managed to wedge itself into the hole of my silver tunnel. Said Ball and Said Tunnel are pictured above.
And by wedge I mean that it was STUCK.
Try as I might, I could not pull it out of there - and neither could Craig.
So at 6:35 this morning Craig and I were to be found standing in the doorway to our kitchen, Craig with both of his giant hands on my tiny ear, and me with one hand on his chest, and one hand around his right wrist, squinting and squeaking and squeezing his wrist.
I was squeaking not only because it's in my nature, or because it kind of hurt but because I was terrified that his giant hands would literally tear my tiny ear apart.
And the thought of that is pretty terrifying, you have to give me that at least.
I ended up using my much smaller fingers to take the backs off both earrings and manoeuver them both out of my ear at the same time (eek!) and at the exact moment they were freed they fell apart as though making a break for freedom.
I couldn't let two inanimate objects get the better of me (again) though so I caught them and put them right back.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
More exciting than Keith Richard's Brain Surgery ...
I would be lying if I said that this comment I received
I like reading about you and your husband; there should be a movie about you two.
hadn't completely made my day.
(I've got a headache, but it's better than a Subdural Haematoma)
I like reading about you and your husband; there should be a movie about you two.
hadn't completely made my day.
(I've got a headache, but it's better than a Subdural Haematoma)
Monday, April 24, 2006
My Hephaestus (only, he's not lame ... and he's not a blacksmith)
Sitting here in my short sleeves I can feel my hair near my elbows - a sign of a good day.
I fell in love with my husband all over again this weekend.
On Saturday night we went to see Dylan Moran and the seats were up in the gods.
It was the first time I had any sort of feeling akin to vertigo and I found it unnerving.
I kept looking at the elaborate ceiling that was so close to us and feeling my head swim just a little.
Mr Moran was a tiny tiny little man, fitting for his tiny angry diatribe that made up much of the show. He was very funny, but he spent far too long talking about how everyone is unhappy all the time which made me feel sorry for him, tiny angry little leprechaun man, I'm happy most of the time.
There was a heckler. I hate hecklers with a passion but Dylan gave him a dressing down "you just sit there and evolve", "you had a shit time there, you're having a shit time here, ever think that maybe it isn't the location?" - on learning the heckler was an irishman.
"Your smell has a sound"
All art is "jesus, fruit or tits".
Leaving the theatre we met a friend who turned around and said "Have you seen his DVD Monster?" uh no "you just did."
My poor, tired, long suffering husband put up with me as I dragged him to Espressoholic with Kat and Tim and ... others. He yawned and smiled and made dirty conversation and drank orange juice while we had coffee.
Tim : somethingsomething like a horse!
Craig : oh well, I don't like to brag
Kat : Ha! you should ask his Wife!
Sarah's Head : don't say it, don't say it, it's gross and just gah! don't say it ...
Sarah : Well, I don't choke and tell.
Sarah's Head : gah, damnit!
On Sunday morning I managed to touch Craig's lips enough to wake him up before 10. We had very important shopping missions to accomplish. Craig has been wearing a jersey-jacket for a couple of years now and the grey has heathered to a purple-y-brown and the collar has frayed. So we went hunting for them.
He ended up with two, one with a blue that brings out his eyes and I love, and one that makes him look like a race-car driver which he loves.
On the way back home we stopped so I could purchase 2 canvases and a graphite pencil. I spent the afternoon painting while Craig created dentist noises in the garage.
It was nice spending so much time with him, talking in the interval up in the gods, holding hands in the courtyard of espressoholic, standing in the same changing room as he tries on jackets, driving out to Tawa and back singing along to old rock songs and having him come inside smelling of metal, my Hephaestus, telling me that my painting is very pretty.
Oh also - I'm winning our bet.
I found trivia about the test track for Top Gear - that Gambon corner is so called because Michael Gambon came close to rolling his car as he drove (maniacally) around it. I brought this fact to Craig like a cat with a mouse and all he said was "... yea?" as if to say "... I know, so what?".
According to him they tell this anecdote nearly weekly, and I swear that I've never heard it before.
I tried to bet him $10 that they wouldn't mention it that week, but he wasn't having a bar of it. I then bet that they wouldn't mention it once in the next month (4 shows) and we shook on it and the bet was on.
So far it has been two shows, and not one tale of Michael Gambon's driving.
At least I know he's not just letting me win this bet.
I fell in love with my husband all over again this weekend.
On Saturday night we went to see Dylan Moran and the seats were up in the gods.
It was the first time I had any sort of feeling akin to vertigo and I found it unnerving.
I kept looking at the elaborate ceiling that was so close to us and feeling my head swim just a little.
Mr Moran was a tiny tiny little man, fitting for his tiny angry diatribe that made up much of the show. He was very funny, but he spent far too long talking about how everyone is unhappy all the time which made me feel sorry for him, tiny angry little leprechaun man, I'm happy most of the time.
There was a heckler. I hate hecklers with a passion but Dylan gave him a dressing down "you just sit there and evolve", "you had a shit time there, you're having a shit time here, ever think that maybe it isn't the location?" - on learning the heckler was an irishman.
"Your smell has a sound"
All art is "jesus, fruit or tits".
Leaving the theatre we met a friend who turned around and said "Have you seen his DVD Monster?" uh no "you just did."
My poor, tired, long suffering husband put up with me as I dragged him to Espressoholic with Kat and Tim and ... others. He yawned and smiled and made dirty conversation and drank orange juice while we had coffee.
Tim : somethingsomething like a horse!
Craig : oh well, I don't like to brag
Kat : Ha! you should ask his Wife!
Sarah's Head : don't say it, don't say it, it's gross and just gah! don't say it ...
Sarah : Well, I don't choke and tell.
Sarah's Head : gah, damnit!
On Sunday morning I managed to touch Craig's lips enough to wake him up before 10. We had very important shopping missions to accomplish. Craig has been wearing a jersey-jacket for a couple of years now and the grey has heathered to a purple-y-brown and the collar has frayed. So we went hunting for them.
He ended up with two, one with a blue that brings out his eyes and I love, and one that makes him look like a race-car driver which he loves.
On the way back home we stopped so I could purchase 2 canvases and a graphite pencil. I spent the afternoon painting while Craig created dentist noises in the garage.
It was nice spending so much time with him, talking in the interval up in the gods, holding hands in the courtyard of espressoholic, standing in the same changing room as he tries on jackets, driving out to Tawa and back singing along to old rock songs and having him come inside smelling of metal, my Hephaestus, telling me that my painting is very pretty.
Oh also - I'm winning our bet.
I found trivia about the test track for Top Gear - that Gambon corner is so called because Michael Gambon came close to rolling his car as he drove (maniacally) around it. I brought this fact to Craig like a cat with a mouse and all he said was "... yea?" as if to say "... I know, so what?".
According to him they tell this anecdote nearly weekly, and I swear that I've never heard it before.
I tried to bet him $10 that they wouldn't mention it that week, but he wasn't having a bar of it. I then bet that they wouldn't mention it once in the next month (4 shows) and we shook on it and the bet was on.
So far it has been two shows, and not one tale of Michael Gambon's driving.
At least I know he's not just letting me win this bet.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Making absolutely no sense since 1983
Craig and I were in the kitchen earlier (in fact just a few minutes ago which shows my dedication to you, my internet, that I will cook dinner and update at the same time!) and he was dealing with the unsavoury business of slicing chicken while I retrieved the Hoisin sauce (how is that pronounced anyway?) from the fridge.
Not furthering the reputation of small large-breasted women everywhere I was struggling to open it. And so, furtheing the reputation of my all-knowing-feminist mother I leaned over and banged the jar against the floor several times, swearing halfway through.
I put the jar down on the counter and Craig turned to me and said in a vaguely bemused fashion "D'you want some help there?"
Instinctively my left hand felt for my hip, my left eyebrow raised and my lips skewed ever so slightly, left (my left side gets very het up) and I measured my next words very carefully. They were a level tablespoon of "Excuse me?"
I think I saw him withdraw ever-so-slightly and he wrinkled his eyebrows and said "oh, did you get it open" pausing between each word.
"Of COURSE I did!" my left hand was still cemented to my hip "I am a ... strong ... independent woman and we don't need men for anything! Except maybe that procreation thing"
Craig fell back on his fool-proof method to talk me down from any (and all) ledge. He became annoyingly adorable "yes you do, you need us for love, and hugs" my eyes rolled "and ... to buy you things and drive you places" he was almost winning with that one so I buried my head in his chest for a second, looked up at him (being short can be useful) widened my eyes and tried to out-cute him.
"Nooo we don't! I don't need you for anything, except that procreation thing because I want my babies to have your eyes" he kissed me! I was winning "with my eyes as the only other option. I don't want my babies to have some creepy sperm donor eyes ... they'd be all white and squiggly"
Craig broke down into laughter and victory was mine.
Not furthering the reputation of small large-breasted women everywhere I was struggling to open it. And so, furtheing the reputation of my all-knowing-feminist mother I leaned over and banged the jar against the floor several times, swearing halfway through.
I put the jar down on the counter and Craig turned to me and said in a vaguely bemused fashion "D'you want some help there?"
Instinctively my left hand felt for my hip, my left eyebrow raised and my lips skewed ever so slightly, left (my left side gets very het up) and I measured my next words very carefully. They were a level tablespoon of "Excuse me?"
I think I saw him withdraw ever-so-slightly and he wrinkled his eyebrows and said "oh, did you get it open" pausing between each word.
"Of COURSE I did!" my left hand was still cemented to my hip "I am a ... strong ... independent woman and we don't need men for anything! Except maybe that procreation thing"
Craig fell back on his fool-proof method to talk me down from any (and all) ledge. He became annoyingly adorable "yes you do, you need us for love, and hugs" my eyes rolled "and ... to buy you things and drive you places" he was almost winning with that one so I buried my head in his chest for a second, looked up at him (being short can be useful) widened my eyes and tried to out-cute him.
"Nooo we don't! I don't need you for anything, except that procreation thing because I want my babies to have your eyes" he kissed me! I was winning "with my eyes as the only other option. I don't want my babies to have some creepy sperm donor eyes ... they'd be all white and squiggly"
Craig broke down into laughter and victory was mine.
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