I almost want to wake you up so I can tell you how I feel at this moment, so you will open those perfect eyes of yours and I can see what colour they are now.  But I know how much you need your sleep, how tired you are even though you won’t tell me, even though you go on and on and on making sure I am okay with no complaint.  You may be the most perfect man in the world.

I can almost hear you laugh at me as I say that in my head.  I know how little you think of yourself and that just makes me love you more.

I love you so much I can’t remember how it felt to not love you.  You take all of my emotional pain away which makes the physical pain bearable.

And one day.  One day we will have children and will be the family neither of us ever thought we wanted.  And even if we don’t I know that the love we have will sustain both of us until we both sit in rocking chairs covered with a thick blanket being fed apple puree in a nursing home.

It is a short 14 months ago today that you told me you loved me and I found out that it didn’t hurt to say those words to you.  5 months ago today you asked me to marry you and I assumed the position of the happiest woman alive.

Thank you for every single one of those days.

Quick moment – Jasper on horseback!  Finally!

The only thing – the engagement ring.  Ugh.

See?

I highly recommend it for all Twilight fans and anyone who is looking for a Romance movie with a spot of action in it… Or anyone who is looking for some serious eye candy.  Oh no.  This is not a film for those of you who just dabble in the eye candy arena.  You better do some light stretching first.  It’s that serious.  And doesn’t the director know it.

But that’s not really what this post is about.

Yes, this is the earliest I have been out of bed for a while and certainly the first time I have been able to sit in front of a computer screen without feeling sick.  This whole typing thing is very odd and I don’t know exactly how I going to continue with the 900 things I have to do today.  I love what I do.  I do.  I really do.  I really really do but today… and yesterday and for as long as I can remember.  It’s hard.  It’s really hard.  It’s really really… You get the picture.

I think I am just whinging now.  My other half thinks I should just let myself be ill and get on with it.  I think I am never going to get better and there are other people in the world with far bigger problems than me and… Shut up Bec?  Okay.

But that’s not really what this post is about.

This post is about call centres.  We have had 987,086,543 calls from different call centres in the past few months asking us to buy double glazing, have free unlimited calls and get rid of the viruses our computers have.  They  call one after the other and don’t stop.  Yes, we have registered with the TPS – we have been for the past year – and yes we ask every bloody company who calls to take us off their lists – to no avail. I spoke to one guy who told me that he couldn’t give me his companies information as he was not authorised to.  When I asked him how he would sell me anything then? he told me that he would give me the company info after I had bought something.  Add that to the already heinous crime of answering the call with “Er… hello?”

Those are the ones that really annoy me.  The pre -recorded ones that just call your number over and over.  One double glazing company called 23 times in one day.  23!

But the call centres that call you are irritating.  The ones that you have to call are far far far far worse.

Over the course of my working life I have worked in a number of different call centres and offices where most of the business is conducted on the phone.  The first thing you learn is that most people just want to conduct the days business and then get on with their lives.  Now, whether they are calling for a quote, or to buy a pair of shoes, or to complain that your company (because you as the call centre monkey own the entire company at that point) has destroyed their carpet when delivering that pair of shoes, you should treat them with the same level of respect and politeness that you would want to be treated.

Sounds simple enough doesn’t it?

Apparently not.

A couple of hours ago I spoke (well croaked) at this woman who works for the Benefits Agency who could barely hide the level of disinterest.  She wouldn’t give me any information, told me my enquiry was irrelevant, and dismissed me by telling me someone would call me back.  When I asked when someone would call back she said ‘Oh… 3 hours”.  I am so so so certain that I am not going to get a call… And I have no faith that if I do get a call they will be able to tell me any information anyway.

No faith at all.

My levels of tolerance are going down by the second and I am not sure how long I am going to be able to maintain my usually friendly phone persona.  I am a nice person on the phone.  I don’t want to become one of the many who…

Sorry.  Am so tired.  I think I will have another nap and then do my work later.  I woke up quite energised (for me) today.  It was the call centre that killed me.

In my head I was not very nice about him, my heart belonged to the wee Scottish man and I was never going to betray him.

Cough.

I was wrong.

This past Saturday I finished watching the season 31/5/1 finale hand in hand with Neil crying my eyes out at the sheer loveliness/drama/sentimentality/joy of it all. As the final credits rolled I turned to him and said those three little words I admitted above and he nearly fell off his chair.

Matt Smith was wonderful and crazy and talked fast and was just this side of completely bonkers and can totally pull off a fez (“Fez’s are cool” may be one of my favourite lines), Karen Gillan was awesome too – she had a great personality and attitude… and she made me cry on more than one occasion. Stephen Moffat. I hate you. I really do. You’re one of those people who know exactly how to turn a phrase and make us laugh, cry and think all at the same time.

Git.

Then as the credits ended and the reminder that there would be a Christmas special appeared, I turned to Neil and laughed as I remembered that he would be joining me on the 6 month wait for the first time.

For you see, Ladies and Gentlemen, cats and kittens.  Matt Smith was Neil’s first doctor.

He had never bothered with the good doctor before.  He is not one to be pushed into watching shows.  If you run at him and say (for example) Battlestar Galactica is AWESOME over and over and over like I, and a few of his friends, have he becomes less and less and less likely to watch it.  The only way I got him to watch The West Wing was by buying and then leaving the boxset at his flat.  Intrigue did the rest for that one; but no one had left him alone with Doctor Who before.

He now has Christopher Eccleston’s doctor and has realised that it is not the actor but the show he likes.  I can’t wait to show him the David Tennant seasons! Ooo… which is the perfect way to fill the next six months!  Yay!!!

Oh and (Neil has just reminded me… Bowties are cool!

Saturday was the kind of hot that I both love and hate.  I love it because it means you can go outside without seventeen layers on where people are smiling and enjoying the tingly feeing of their skin cooking in the gorgeous sunshine.  I hate it because I go red and then peel.

This Saturday was different because I had somewhere to go, something to do.

My other half is an assistant ref at a LARP game called Preston By Night.  LARP, for those of you who have not come across this strange but wonderful phenomenon is Live Action Role Play.  Basically, each month a group of guys and girls meet up, dress in costumes of their own choosing and play a character.  PbN is a Vampire LARP game so the characters they play are, yes, vampires.  There is not a single Dracula or Edward (I was reliably informed that Vampires do not now, nor have they ever sparkled) and none of them talk in Eastern European accents.  They could if they wanted to – there is a German vampire, and there will probably be more in ze future.

Why do they do it?  Not because, as someone who doesn’t know any of the people said, they are ‘sad, lonely muppets who need to get a life’ but because they enjoy themselves, and as one of the new members told me he likes the idea of being able to escape the real world for a bit.  Life becomes so much more exciting if you think you are going to be attacked by a bear at any moment.

And, no, most of them are not sad or lonely.  Most have partners that encourage their hobby (if only because then they are guaranteed some ‘me’ time one a month, and there are a few partner teams who come along.  I go in an administrative capacity, and to help carry kit.  I am putting together their website so that the stories can continue and be developed in between games (known as Downtime), and I help answer the broad questions about rules and kit and things.  The refs (Neil and his best friend who created the whole shebang) answer the detailed questions and run the game.  They play Non Player Characters (NPCs) who go into the game and provide plot or information or something to fight or just mess with the characters minds a little.  All in the name of fun.

This game was very fun.  There was a possibility that it was going to be cancelled but luckily the USA did the sterling job of coming first in the group in the World Cup and Saturday became a free day again.  The sun was out and I took a book and my iPod thinking I could catch a few rays and go for a walk in the lovely town of Penwortham.  Instead I ended up answering questions about what was going on, catching people up on BIG PLOT and going through character creation.  The newbies were all very enthusiastic and wanted to get involved straight away.  I was enthusiastic for them but in my head (I swear) was going ‘pub, pub, pub’ as it was in my mind the perfect weather for sitting in a beer garden and having a cold beverage.

I love going to LARP.  I would never have the confidence to just let it all go like the players do, or run the show like the refs do but I love being around people who are enthusiastic and passionate about something.  When trying to explain it to other people I liken it to Improvised Theatre.  You have to stick to your character and the world but other than that you can do what you please.  Awesomeness.

Neil asks me constantly why I don’t tell him to quit.  My answer is always the same.  I would rather have a man who has a hobby and feels passionate enough to follow it than just watch TV and drink until he passes out every Saturday.  It makes him happy, it makes me happy.  Although I would appreciate some cupboard space that wasn’t stuffed with weapons and kit and other things.

And yes, I got me a red nose.

Today, oh today.  Woke up obscenely late as I couldn’t sleep last night.  Too bloody hot and was drifting between thirst and needing a wee the entire night!  Rubbishness is what it is and was.  It meant that I missed the F1 and only just made the match.

Should have stayed in bed.  You either know, or don’t care, about what happened.  In a nutshell.

• There was a blind linesman
• England forgot to take a defence/ England’s defenders didn’t read the rulebook on how to be a defence/they all wanted the glory and forgot to be a team
• The Germans were really fucking good.
• There was a BLIND LINESMAN

I’m not bitter.  Andy Murray is still in Wimbledon.  It feels good to be Eng… er… British.

After the football (that we don’t talk about) I made comfort food (chocolate Angel Delight) and then we took Jack for a walk down the Lancaster Canal

to the lovely Haslam Park. 

It was a sorry to the dog for me and Neil screaming at the TV and him thinking he was in trouble (he is a Rottweiler/German Shepherd and was supporting the other side) or we had gone crazy.  He became happy dog in moments

and for the humans it was a perfect way to destress after the disappointment of… the thing we don’t mention.  Jack was happy that he had a stick for a moment… before he lost it… he had a good bark at the ducks (mostly because he was grateful they weren’t his arch nemesis… swans) and then he had a few not so bad encounters with other dogs. Ever since he was attacked by the small yapper type bastard dog up the road Jack has been… what’s the world… nervous around other dogs and like to show his feeling about it.  Don’t get me wrong he’s not too happy about medium or big dogs either… but little dogs freak him out.  Which is what I had to explain to a couple of owners when Jack menacingly growled ‘please don’t hurt me’ and then hid behind my legs.

We couldn’t let him off the leash today because we had forgotten to take treats with us.  Yes, Jack is not as trained as we would like him to be but he is getting better.  I will embarrass him with terrible dog stories at another point.

But as this post is already way too long I will leave you with the hope that the next week is filled with better things.  Come on Murray!  BRITAIN expects!

No pressure.

We are doing broad strokes organising at the moment.  Very broad strokes.  The venue is the biggest and only thing being concentrated on at the moment.

We have three places on our shortlist – all with pros and cons – and all, weirdly, in the same price range.

But we have agreed on one thing.  We are getting married in church.

Now, Neil, my gorgeous other half, is not C.E. so he was not thrilled with the idea but after going to the church he found that he liked it, and  it all got a bit emotional when he stood at the front of the church looking back.  I rather stupidly and melodramatically whispered into his ear that this would be the first view he would have as a married man and that was it.  We started squeeing (quietly and respectfully obviously) and were mentally running round the church screaming Yay!

Then it stopped when we considered how much organisation it was going to take.  The flowers, the people, the order of services, the various things we wanted.

For example, we want at the reception a metal/wood sculpture of a tree that people can pin messages or their favourite quotes about love on.   We started digging around (God bless the internet – I mean, seriously, how did people manage beforehand) and become quickly shocked at how much that was going to cost.  We are currently considering a ‘Do It Yourself’ thing – there are courses available at the local college on metal sculpture.  It’s worth a try.

The whole theme of the wedding is writing because both Neil and I are writers in progress… or something, and we wanted to have all stationery reflect that.  Turns out screen printing on material is massively expensive too.  Classes!  Learning!  Artistic people of the world unite!  We will find a way!

See that – positivity.  It rules.

But we are not panicking about any of this stuff yet.  We are mostly just thinking out loud and writing stuff in my little book which I carry around with me everywhere.

But right now I am going to forget all this stuff and go to bed, snuggle up to my beloved and… Nope, there’s another idea coming (That’s what I get for watching Ace of Cakes before bed!)

I am awake (meaning I am not asleep and in no other way) and waiting for my pay to go into my account so I can pay bills and then go back to sleep safe in the knowledge that me and the other half have a roof over our head and internet connection for another month.

It’s not exciting but today it is what I have.  Yesterday was all drama and emotions all over the place (and, no, I am not talking about the football); today will be peace and quiet and vacuuming the living room.

I could be redesigning my blog.  Again.  I have been pumping life support into it for a while now and getting all het up in the minutae of it.  The CSS isn’t working the way it is supposed to.  I hate the colours the logo, the everything… The fact is what it looks like is the least importnat part of the whole thing.  I should just reset to 0 and just… write!

I could be sorting out my documents box.  Every bit of paper that arrives through the post, once it has been dealt with, gets shoved into a plastic box that I have been meaning to sort and file for a while.  It needs doing… but later, y’know?

I could be reading – I have a stack of unread books on the shelf that I could be devouring but I’m tired and I don’t wanna!  I am becoming more like a small annoying child every day.

I could be writing but I have a tense dialogue scene followed by a fight scene… and I’ll be honest.  I want to Stephenie Meyer it and fade to black.  I am not good at fight scenes.  Sex scenes?  Yes.  But a fight scene – it’s like baby’s first steps.

I suppose I am really fitting into the write what I know cliché here – I have never (and will hopefully never) be involved in an epic fight to the death so I can’t draw upon experience or put myself in the character’s shoes as well as I can when… well, the characters get down.

I have done the other thing you are supposed to – read as much as you can, write notes and then expand on them, brainstorm, ask those who know… but it all comes out as mechanical claptrap. He did this and then I did this and then he did something else and then… Bleurgh.  I have tried writing around it too – the sights, sounds and smells are all in my notes but still no A to B to C.

My other half (who has just turned over in bed and is now softly snoring (come on bank!  I want to be warm and snuggly again!) almost gleefully told me he could write it for me; and whilst I love his writing I almost beat him with a stick for just suggesting it.  I turned into Mama Bear and snarled at him.  Mine!  It’s mine!  Back off away from me!  I circled the wagons – my poor story hidden behind loading shotguns and shouts to save the women and children.

Thank you love of my life, apple of my eye etc etc but back off.  It’s mine.

I am starting to feel the old flow of creativity coming back again.

It has been a long struggle getting it back but maybe I can actually finish the damn story I am writing and then go on to the seventeen or eighteen other projects burning holes in my brain.

So I am going to do the thing we all do when we are waiting – potter around on Facebook, read and send tweets and then watch read the back entries on I Can Has Cheezburger.

I think we can universally agree that getting engaged and getting a new job in the space of two days is enough to make anyone go a little insane.

It was so nice to se the different reactions to the news of the engagement – all were very positive, although from people who know me there was quite a lot of ‘What? Bec? Engaged? Is the world ending?’ and ‘Giggling and happy and being girly? That’s not Bec! When is the real Bec coming back?’

The real Bec is here… she is just happy.

I got so (happy) stressed that my blood pressure went up and my finger swelled. We thought I was having a reaction to the ring, but, no, it seems to be a stress thing.

So, I am calming down.

Don’t get me wrong. I am still ridiculously excited and have gone a bit mad with getting hold of wedding brochures for every local hotel (I think I have chosen my reception venue) and have discussed colour schemes (I have pretty much decided that) and the pros and cons of getting married in church and… oh a thousand and one things. We have come up with a mad and wonderful idea for our invitations and, therefore, the rest of the stationery. I am going to pick up some craft materials at the weekend and try it out to see how great it looks…

The thing is the we have decided to hold off on an immediate wedding to give us enough time to save up the money we need to do it properly. We want to give each other the time to give each other the kind of day we may never have hoped to be a part of. There is certainly a part of me which is considering grabbing Neil and running for Gretna Green but then I stop and calm down. I hope that I am right in thinking that this is forever, but I am not naive enough to believe that time and all the laws of nature will leave us alone.

I am just enjoying every day that we have.

The job though. Oh… I can see some late nights just trying to understand the complexities of the nightmare that I have subjected myself to. It will all be fine, and what is life without a few challenges!

Me? Engaged?

Yes.

Your life is going terribly and your only joy in life is making other people feel miserable and crappy for being happy, but really did you have to?

Neil and I did a terrible thing.  We joined in a bit of fun on Facebook (fun… you know, that thing you don’t have because you are too cool or whatever) for Valentine’s Day.  We both posted

To celebrate Valentines Day, change your profile picture to you and your spouse/significant other and make sure to tell how long you’ve been together!!

and changed our profile pictures.

Although this heinous crime raised not one eyebrow on my page, on Neil’s it got sneering from 2 complete fuckwits who really get my back up.  Is Neil not allowed to be happy and revel in his happiness?  Is it an affront to your world view that someone smiles and thinks the world isn’t a terrible place to live in for five minutes?

I’m not saying you should be all sunshine and rainbows, unicorns and candy-floss but if you wouldn’t mind terribly keeping your negative, and not entirely helpful thoughts to yourselves, you tossers of the highest degree.

And here’s something else that you probably want to sneer at.

From cute-n-tiny.com

Normal service will be resumed after a brief cuddle in front of the TV.