Friday, 19 September 2008

Friday - Getting ready for 'THE WEDDING'

My Niece gets married tomorrow, I've spent a bucket load of money on make-up and accessories, I didn't go to this much effort or expense on my own wedding (relatively speaking, I know it was yonks ago). I rarely use foundation, it always used to make me spotty (oh to be that teenager again!). But I've now got one or two tiny blemishes and wrinkles that need a little minimising (ok, they're great big FURROWS).

My sister aka 'mother of the bride' says that she'll do my make-up for me [dunno why, I am perfectly capable of doing it myself] tomorrow morning - if I get there early enough - wedding 2pm. I need to be at said sisters by 11am to allow enough time for the make-up to set - hmm, I think she's trying to insult me but I can't quite put my finger on it...

I'm not altogether sure that letting my sis do my make-up is a good idea anyway, they're starting on the champagne at about 9am, if I get there at 11am she'll be sozzled when she starts on me. By the time I've been done (ages later) I'll have been drinking too and whatever minor miracles she'll 'appear' to have done to my face will no doubt be classed as BRILLIANT by yours truly, while I'll probably in actual fact resemble a decorative compost heap! I think to be on the safe side, I'll do my make-up before we go.

Now have you ever tried using individual lash inserts, the sort that last - ahem 'up to four weeks'? Well vanity dictated that I should have a go - They are a nightmare when you get to a certain age (someone who needs reading glasses).

Instructions - pour a few drops of 'Superfix Lash' adhesive onto a piece of aluminium foil [not included]. By the time I'd stuck the second one on the glue had dried. Now I'm not saying their glue is crap but you'd think it'd stay runny longer than that - say a week, in my case.

I tried doing them with specs on, looking through the lens with one eye while squinting with the other, that didn't work, I still couldn't see until I realised that I was in fact looking over the top of the lens so I could see and reach the squinty eye - so off with the glasses.
Hmm, I managed to get one stuck at the top of my nose, I might have left it and claimed that it was the beginnings of a 'unibrow' but I'm meant to be improving my appearance.

After my complete failure with the 'instructions' of - pouring a few drops of 'Superfix Lash' adhesive onto a piece of aluminium foil [not included] - I just dipped the lashes onto the doo-dah in the glue bottle and stuck them somewhere - well, 'close to but not touching the eyelid', as per the instructions - I think.

Anyway I persevered and now an hour later I've got lashes 'To Die For', shame they're stuck at odd angles, from one direction I look very surprised and from another I look half asleep.

OH SLEEP! I've got to go to sleep tonight somehow! WITH these lash inserts precariously balanced on my own stumpy lashes. What's betting I'll have to take them off in the morning because they'll be all screwed up and my own lashes are bound to fall out as I yank them off in a panic instead of remembering to use the remover [included].

Tomorrow, oh heck! I've got some false nails to put on ...

Friday, 5 September 2008

Still On My High Horse - and no signs of getting off it yet.

I am still miffed about the underhanded way that acefieldwork choose to conduct their surveys.
There are no two ways about it; I was lied to.

I DO SURVEYS, I'm on several online survey panels, I very often don't meet the required 'criteria' therefore am not suitable for a particular survey - mostly because I'm not responsible for any of the smaller, demanding, noisy people that seem to rule the world.

The surveys I do complete are done honestly. Advertisers do need to know if their adverts are reaching us and if we actually notice what they're advertising.

I am probably not the best survey panellist, I don't read newspapers, I get all my news online. I don't see adverts on the Internet at all unless I wish to, as I use 'Ad Muncher'. A wonderful program I tried and paid for that was worth every penny.

The only adverts I do see are on TV and there they make one HUGE error, I never, ever hear them and I'm sure I'm not the only one. The advertising is so loud compared to the programs that I'm ready with the remote in my hand as soon as I judge the adverts are starting and press the mute button.

Doing online surveys can be quite informative, in fact it's probably the only way that advertisers influence me in any way. I've even learnt which are the healthier crisps to buy, not particularly by believing everything advertisers say but by rummaging amongst the crisps on the shelves and having a look after completing a survey (the advertisers weren't fibbing but I'm a sceptic).
I'd never even heard of 'Sustainable Harvest', now because of online surveys about tea and coffee I have and so looked into it further.

These are just two examples of Market Research that in my opinion have got it right, there are lots of other examples I could mention but don't really have time at the moment.

I get paid for online surveys - not for myself, everything I earn goes to charity. Some of the Market Research Companies do it that way anyway and let you choose which charity you want to help. Others are set up so you can claim the money or goods if you want. But it's the charity option for me - I'm no Saint, it's just easier and I'm known for being idle ...

Thursday, 4 September 2008

Had my phone Market Research 'Interview'

Huh, am even more grumpy now, the lady on the phone was very nice, that really pi**ed me off, I wanted an argument!

When I said I was prepared to answer any questions on the program which was crap; but none on any advertising, she just said 'well you're refusing to do the interview which is up to you'.

I said that 'I wasn't refusing but I would only answer questions on the program on the DVD and I wanted to know why we were being treated like idiots when we're not (well not all of us) and that I'd been lied to'.

She was still NICE to me!! She must have had practice, I couldn't be nice to someone who spoke to me like I spoke to her, she went on to ask if I wanted to speak to a supervisor.
I didn't as I was busy, up to my eyebrows in glue, sticking my nieces wedding card together (will moan about that later - but it is a masterpiece)

So I just said 'no, I want no more to do with it and if they wanted me to answer questions on adverts then they should have said so, instead if sandwiching them between a 'pilot' episode of crap and saying that they wanted my opinion on that!'

She went on to say (nicely - bitch!) that that was the way they had to do it and she'd just put me down as a refusal.

Oh my God, I'm high on glue! and my exclamation mark key has nearly worn out!!

The Rocky Laporte Show - with ADVERTS

I'm a sucker for people coming up to me in the street with a few questions,
first off -'have you got a working DVD player?' - 'good, it'll only take 5 minutes now and 30 mins later and I'm not trying to sell you anything and for your time you'll receive a £5 Boots voucher'.
That was ok, my feet were aching, I sat on a bench while the 'I'm not trying to sell you anything' lady filled in my details. Then I had to look at a booklet and say which coffee, shampoo, perfume, kitchen towel, foundation make-up, conditioner, boxes of chocolate, fabric softener, savoury snacks, air freshener, mascara and marmalade I would like to receive if I won one of their lottery baskets (worth up to £100 in total)

Of course to enter this 'Lottery' I was given a DVD to watch (on my working DVD player), I couldn't watch it on my laptop or computer it had to be DVD player and I wasn't to fast forward or rewind, apparently it was a new pilot show that they wanted MY OPINION on (obviously my opinion is important, but I already know that). It was described as 'a bit like Friends'.

Anyway I dutifully watched the DVD with an open mind but alas not at the time I said I would because I hadn't yet returned from my marathon trip into Nottingham (will moan about that later)

It was utter crap, Rocky Laporte is possibly? a good comedian but he's no actor. There was canned laughter every 3 seconds but I never laughed once.


I started to smell a rat but persevered with the DVD as I was in a bit of an 'all or nothing' mood.
I even found myself taking note of the adverts, something I would never normally do in a million years.
I then had to fill in a 'programme evaluation' sheet - I didn't mince my words!
Then and only then, I had to open a sealed plastic envelope - S**T! it was the same booklet I'd had before - coffee etc.

I'm now waiting for my telephone interview, between 2-4pm, do you think I'll be a nice little sheep and do it properly?
WHAT? for a probable non-existent £5 Boots voucher and the chance of winning their equally non-existent lottery?
Anyway To receive my voucher I had to follow all the instructions and I failed at the 1st stage which was 'enjoy the program'

'Market Research' - they expect us to be honest with our answers why can't they be equally as honest with their questions instead of treating us like morons?

Rant over ...

Friday, 4 July 2008

Insulted by a four year old

We've just been to visit my other half's daughter and family, hectic to say the least, her youngest never shuts up, constantly badgering us all for 'a leg and a wing', no amount of threats from her mum or dad can shut her up, she's one of those kids that are afraid of nothing, no threats work, if you smack her bum, she wants you to hold her up to the mirror to admire the red marks and if they're not red enough, she asks you to smack her again. How do you beat that? she's not really naughty, just so full of life until suddenly she drops and asks for milk before falling asleep.

Anyway, lets get to the insult - They'd been to Ibiza on holiday and came back bearing gifts, mine was a lovely mug with a cat on it. My grumpy old man's was a leather belt as he'd requested, he put it round him and a small voice piped up 'that's too big for you Dadda.' - It wasn't, it was a perfect fit.
Then the little darling looked me up and down and said 'It'll fit Julie.'

I just gritted my teeth and breathed in [as you do] trying to look a bit thinner. I was muttering about it under my breath all the way home much to HIS amusement.

After we got home and I'd been stomping around for a bit, holding everything in every time I caught sight of my reflection, I gave in and tried on the bloody belt - HA!

Of course, being the adult that I am I let it drop - yeh, like hell I did, I immediately sent a text to the little horror's big sister, asking her to tell the little so and so that the belt was WAY TOO BIG for me...

Thursday, 12 June 2008

Middle of the Night

Why is it that when I can't sleep in the dead of night I write wonderful, deeply interesting blogs in my mind, yet when I wake up next morning all memory of them has gone? Is this just another sign of old age - or grumpiness?

I think it would be a good idea to take a notebook and pen to bed with me as I'm awake for hours listening to HH and their buddies doing what they want and bugger everyone else. By the way HH or H-effin-H as I call them are one of the main causes of my grumpiness.

I have heard rumours that H-effin-H are leaving for good and that we're going to have a wonderful supermarket [Asda] in it's place, after looking at the area on Google Earth I realise that if the rumours are true then we'll be living in the middle of a car park instead of a scrap yard [lovely] ... unless one of the other rumours is true that we're going to be demolished too. I've been asking my friends and relations if they've got a spare room in case we are homeless, so far we've been offered a tent at the bottom of a garden and that WASN'T even an offer from my favourite sister [a grumpy neophyte] she just bandied words about like 'skip', whether she meant for me or my possessions is a matter I'm not clear on.

Oh heck, that's a thought, just how much crap this grumpy old woman has managed to amass, I was ok with my small hoard of rubbish until I moved in with my 'grumpy old man', he's got more stuff squirrelled away [NOT MONEY!!] than me.

I'll just give one example of things he collects as a retired electrician - He'd nipped out for some milk and when he came back he was so excited he was practically twirling on the spot.
"OK, what's up?" I ask.
'The cafe round the corner has closed and it's being refurbished"
"Well they're chucking light fittings out and I can have them, I'm going back to fetch them now"

He came back with said fittings - for fluorescent tubes - a type of lighting I hate and which I'd gradually managed to evict four of from our house after moving in [when I say evict I use the term loosely, they're in the attic].
"What do you want them for?"
"You can't throw them away, you never know when they'll come in handy"...

Oh, another one, he's got a box of castors, he used to help refurbish fruit machines and they took off the castor wheels, so he brought them home as they're 'really handy' to have. That was five years ago, he hasn't used one but it has become a grumpy joke, if he makes anything for anyone they're always asked if they want it with castors ...

Tuesday, 10 June 2008

Another Grumpy Day

I'm in a grumpy mood, I'm tired. I didn't get to sleep last night until gone midnight because of big diesel stacker trucks working in tin-pot, corrugated metal sheds that I have the dubious pleasure of living near, they woke me again at 5.53am. I can feel another irate phone call to environmental health coming on, but that's a waste of time, they give you a sheet of paper telling you to fill in a diary of what they're doing and what times they disturb you, my last one was full of swear words as I wrote it whilst being grumpy - I haven't heard back, I wonder why?

Sunday, 8 June 2008

Being Grumpy - part 1

I've decided to start a grumpy blog as I know even more about being grumpy than I do about decoupage - my other completely riveting blog that no-one else is interested in.

I laid in bed this morning, thinking my normal grumpy thoughts, you know the kind of thing - 'I should really get up, but don't want to' or 'the garden needs tidying - nothing a decent landslide wouldn't fix, but I don't feel like it'. Then I thought "well I ought to write a blog about grumpiness, I have ALL the qualifications"

And indeed, this astonishing revelation spurred me to get out of bed and I arrived on my blogger dashboard where I proceeded to make a new blog. Imagine my annoyance to find that I couldn't use my chosen address of grumpyoldwoman, it took several attempts to get one I was nearly happy with. I need to find these other grumpy old women and read their blogs to see if they're as grumpy as me or whether it's just a half-hearted attempt at grumpiness.

Anyway, I've pulled a few weeds up so that's my gardening done for at least a month, I don't know why I bothered planting things really, they keep growing, I liked them when they were little, before they took over everything. It's not even a garden, just tubs and troughs on a concrete back yard: I was full of good ideas and intentions when I started gardening but I was only middle-aged then, I hadn't been practising grumpiness at that stage in my life.

I'm going to take the dog for a walk in a minute, this gives me plenty of scope for being grumpy; I can moan about dog-mess that hasn't been cleaned up, I can have a real grouse about the litter thrown, mostly beer cans just carelessly left by the under-age drinkers that think it's 'cool' to be drinking before they're legally allowed to.
It always amazes me that each generation grows up thinking that they're any different from the last one when in fact they're exactly the same but with an extra pinch of ignorance and bad manners thrown in.
Of course my generation was different, we were dead cool!

OK, so now I've checked a couple of grumpy old women blogs, one didn't write much - just said she was grumpy - fair enough. The other one I read and found myself nodding in agreement to some of her grumpiness although it doesn't look like she's been grumpy lately which is a shame.

I'm going to publish this post now, no-one will read it anyway so really it'll just be my 'Grumpy Diary' - I'm so glad I'm not using paper, with my moaning I could get through a small forest of trees ...