You're mugging me right off...

Dear EE, May I suggest some SERIOUS training with your staff? Having had my phone stolen on Saturday let me fill you in on what I have had to endure since then.

First off I was a previous Orange customer before the merge. Therefore after my phone was stolen I went on the website to find how to cancel it. Unfortunately the only way to cancel your phone is to phone up. Can you see where this can cause problems? May I suggest a live chat option on the site for those who do not have access to a replacement phone or friend to call you.

Luckily I was able to call Customer Services (CS) and have them cancel my phone. I was informed I could go into an EE store to collect a replacement SIM free of charge. So this is what I did on Monday during my lunch break.

First off I went to Holborn and was told in here they can’t do it but I could go to the Fleet Street branch where they could help me. So I did (we’re nearly an hour into the lunch break now due to all the walking). Here I was told sure I can have a replacement SIM – but it costs £10. Not free like CS told me on the phone. Your man in the shop also – serious attitude problem. He basically said to me ’it’s not my problem what CS have told you it’s a tenner – deal with it’.

I called CS (again) who apologised and said pay the £10 and they will credit this on my next bill. So I agreed. I went about purchasing my ‘free’ replacement SIM. The guy got it from the back and started explaining what to do with it. Luckily I asked if it mattered that it was a T-Mobile SIM and I was a previous Orange customer. He said yes of course it matters this T-Mobile replacement SIM would not work. So I asked for an Orange SIM. They don’t do Orange replacement SIM’s in store – only over the phone.

I called CS (again) after explaining my predicament CS told me ‘of course you can get one in store’; so I put her on the phone to the rep in the EE store where they proceeded to have an argument about who was right. The man in your store won and I was told to phone up for my replacement SIM. By this time I had almost been two hours so I had to back to the office; where....

I called CS (are you getting the picture here?) Your man this time said he was terribly sorry and would be able to get me a SIM out between 0830 and 1230 THE VERY NEXT DAY! Marvellous I said. I confirmed all my address details with him. The next day I arrive home after 6; no SIM.

I called CS. Here’s what happened next:
ME: Hi, where’s my SIM please?
CS: It was successfully delivered at 4pm.
ME: There is nothing in my post box from you – or a failed delivery slip.
CS: It was definitely delivered to (Street Name) by UK Mail at 4pm
ME: What number?
CS: There is no number
ME: Well how can they deliver if there is no number? I confirmed a number with your man yesterday.

CS: Oh yes there is a number on here but not in the delivery notes. I don’t know where it’s been delivered – but do you know you can get one in store?!

ME: *BANGS HEAD ON TABLE IN FRUSTRATION WHILE EXPLAINING YESTERDAY’S ORDEAL*
CS: OK I will post you a new one. But if you’re not in there’s a charge and you have to give back your old SIM. It’s the rules

ME: *ALMOST CIRES WITH STUPIDITY OF THIS STATEMENT*
ME: How can I hand back my old SIM, It’s been stolen – that’s why we’re having this conversation. I clicked through all those LOST/STOLEN options on the menu and you asked me at the beginning of the call what has happened to my current SIM, where I told you my phone was stolen.

CS: OK well you have to pay a charge if you’re not in
ME: How can I not be in my POST BOX? You said they are posting it in the POST BOX you said that’s what HAPPENED TODAY!!! While we’re on that, even if I had a SIM am I expected to stand by the post box waiting for your delivery man? Or will you have him call me to say he is standing waiting for receipt of my stolen SIM...Oh wait he can’t I HAVE NO PHONE!!!

It makes one wonder what has happened to Orange and T-Mobile since merging. Perhaps you have spent all your money on Kevin Bacon and thus cannot afford to hire anyone with any competence – or have any protocols in place to deal with those pesky things some businesses like to call ‘customers’. I have now resorted at scoffing to myself every time I call your line and hear you are ‘dedicated to excellent customer service’. Your staff members in store told me there is no communication between your call centre and stores nor any consideration of Orange vs T-Mobile protocols.

You have given me about the same level of stress than the actual mugging that left me in this position.

I DREAD to think what may happen tomorrow if this magical SIM is going to arrive or if a burly delivery man is going to refuse to give it to me until I pay him / give him my stolen SIM.

Congratulations EE – for possibly the worst customer service I have ever experienced.

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Restaurant Review: Ping

Restaurants that have opened to hype and high expectation recently have included Meat Liquor, Sushi Samba and Duck & Waffle. All have lived up to said hype and been amazing. Another that has been on my lust list is Ping - a dining and ping pong concept (not to be confused with the chain restaurant Ping Pong). Reviews have been good, the idea is good my expectations were high.

We arrived at our booked time of 730 and were shown to our seats, the place wasn't too busy yet (Wednesday evening). We perused the cocktail menu and soaked up a bit of atmosphere. A short time later we were asked to move to another (identical) table close by. We didn't really mind as hadn't ordered anything yet. Our waiter was a young trendy type decked out in 'sports gear' the ladies dressed in vintage cheer leader style outfits.

Table decorations including cheese grater tea light holder

First up, drinks order, I opted for a passion fruit cosmo. This materialised pretty promptly with a very satisfyingly limey G&T for H. At this stage our waiter informed us we'd have to wait 20 minutes or so to order food as the kitchen just had an order of 60 pizzas from a large party. Fine by us, we were in no rush. It is also worth noting when I booked I asked about booking a ping pong table and was told these are done when you arrive you put your name on a board and get a table that way. We weren't warned this large group had reserved the tables until 10pm (regular punters can't do this). We said that was fine and put out names down for 10 o clock, alcohol would make us better, right?

Back to the food, the pizzas are all very reasonably priced at £7.70. We opted for a San Paolo which is chicken and cream cheese and a Frasers Fvourite with sausage and bacon, yep healthy as you'd imagine. The food didn't  take very long at all to arrive and the size was about right for one each, the dough was pretty think and well; doughy.

The Ping Menu

Frasers Favourite

San Paolo

Here is where I'm going to get pretty critical - you'll soon see why. There wasn't loads of topping and the pizza was no where near as good as say Santore. The 'chili oil' on the table had about as much kick as a baby kitten purring over a ball of wool. Still we were pretty satisfied. Here's where it went wrong. It was 9pm by now and when the waiter came to take our plates he said 'do you want the bill', in a way that meant 'I want you out of here'. Do you WANT us to want the bill? We had a ping pong table booked for an hour away and wanted to try a Ping Porn (later) and have a couple more cocktails. His response? 'Well we actually needed this table back at 8.30'.

Couple of pictures to break up the rant

Chicken-y goodness. The San Paolo was better

Where to start? 1) one hour table turn in the evening?! That's practically fast food, 2) we weren't advised of any time limit on the table on booking 3) we couldn't order for a good 45 minutes because of the large party leaving a grand total of 15 minutes to play with?

On voicing these concerns out waiter looked nonplussed and buggered off somewhere. A while later he grudgingly bought the dessert menu. We said to him, as we were pretty put off by this damp squib we'll just leave and sod our ping pong table (we said it in a much more polite and understanding way). He made tiny noises about 'no no stay'. So we did, rightly or wrongly.

We ordered the Ping Porn, who can turn down a pizza base smothered in nutella and mixed berries. It was as expected on arrival. Pretty good but the dough was again quite thick so after the pizza it was pretty stodgy and filling.

The Ping Porn

Thick dougy, chocolatey partial goodness

Slosh. Yes I had it all over my face

We had another cocktail feeling a bit like criminals who no one wanted around and at the allotted time headed to our ping ping table. As predicted we were both amazing. Balls were flying everywhere and we spent most of our time chasing them all over the shop. Fortunately the other tables are also doing this. There are three in total and we were on the middle one with two large parties either side. A tip for you, go on the side with your back to the mirror- not the bar or you may find yourself chasing balls to the bar pretty frequently whereas the mirror breaks there stride.

I'm ready. Scouting out the playing field

After this we went to the bar to pay up. Our card had been taken as we arrived earlier as 'we have had a number of people just leave without paying in the last couple of days' personally I can't really believe this, this place doesn't feel like it would attract that sort of crowd. To sum up, a good concept but executed badly. Perhaps they are teething problems, perhaps we were unlucky on the night because of this party. It's put me off a bit do I certainly won't be rushing back, which is a damn shame. Service makes so much of a difference between ranting about a poor experience and raving about re-booking immediately.

Still, 'Bounce' is opening in October. Run by the same crowd that own All Star Lanes and opening nearby in Bloomsbury this will perhaps beat out ping in the dining/ponging stakes. Will keep you posted...

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Eyeful Tower

The London Olympics are a topic that make me shudder with despair right now. It may be the opening ceremony tonight and some people may be generally excited. However I venture a guess I'm not alone. Ask those living and working in London you will find we are peeved. The signs all over the place warning us to be careful, take other routes and generally uproot our lives while not getting any tickets despite living on the doorstep generally grates me.

Image Source

One of the things that makes me most sick? The Eyeful Tower. No, competitive helter - skelter did not become an Olympic sport, the huge monstrosity of red metal that cost a whopping 22.7 million and is twice the height of nelsons column and a whopping 72 feet higher than the Statue of Liberty is 'The Orbit Tower'...but what is it's purpose? Oh that's right absolutely nothing!

What a ridiculous waste of money. OK so they have managed to make the 'Millennium Dome' a success now (thank you O2) what what are we going to do with this in a few weeks time when the throngs of tourists have gone? Stick a restaurant on top? I have no idea if there's room but if they were going to do that why not do it now when you have the footfall??

Five other things that frustrate me greatly about the Olympics:

1) Not getting any tickets in the ballot but tickets still being available with days to go
2) The patronising posters on the tube shifting blame to commuters and telling me to change my route
3) The signs on the road telling me to avoid central London (I work there you divs)
4) Feeling like a criminal for writing the words Olympics, London 2012, Games and combinations there of
5) Tourists

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Open Letter to Facebook Users

I've been thinking about Facebook this week...here is my 30 second rant.

Facebook is not social therapy. Please do not air your problems that should be moaned about through the proper means, such as your friends over a glass of wine. The whole world doesn't need to know. Another bug bear? People sharing bad news and others 'liking' it, oh your cat died? Big thumbs up from me!

Next thing...sharing other people's news. No, no, no. If XX gets engaged or alike, that is for them to share. Not you. Just wait. Or even better? You want to congratulate your friends? Text or phone them, heck go and see them!

Pouting pictures of yourself? Just don't take them, period. Mirror shots and / or the ever tricky doing it in the mirror backwards while pulling your sexy face? Just stop. to be fair Instagram is worse for this, endless streams of people who clearly love themselves yet comment 'so rough today'.

Tagging...I'm having so much fun with my honey at XX restaurant? Oh are you? I think you're on Facebook projecting fun but clearly not having it, otherwise why is your phone out? And does anyone else actually need to know where you are having dinner/drinks/at your flat unless you're inviting them? Didn't think so.

This leads me neatly onto writing 'I love my baby so much (tags name) or ever better...writing on THEIR wall 'Love you so much', that is absolutely the appropriate way to show emotion, publicly. Not over text or in person, that way no one else will know how corny you are!

I categorise Facebook in two ways, 'competitive diary syndrome', those taggers and on site photo posters who want you to know exactly how fantastic their life is (the 'look how much fun I'm having's) or the 'Look how much fun I've had's), those who post endless photo albums of the same photo in a slightly different setting. The worlds worst Facebook album name? Honeymoon Cont...

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Dating and Dieting

Today children we are learning about the letter D, what begins with D? Dating. What else begins with D? Dieting. Now children...which D's do not go together, you guessed it!

'I am only going to have a gin and slimline tonic' goes right out of the window with the immortal words 'shall we just get a bottle of wine' sigh. 

Going to a Black & Blue restaurant for said bottle of wine?! Error!! Ohh the smells. I'll just have a double bison burger extra cheese, pickle and bacon. Fries? 

MUST TRY HARDER. Dieting is such a mugs game. I used to mock the girls who ordered a side salad while I was guffawing with my steak and ribs combo. Trust me that will never be me, but I'm on fat fighter fortnight, courtesy of Rosemary Connolly; temptation doth mock me.

Rant over, I will be good for the rest of the week I promise...but as you can see from the above picture, the calories are literally calling my name!

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Wedding Planning; Part 1

Three weeks ago after the hot dog cook off I was going for my first experience wedding dress shopping. I am maid of honour to the B2B (bride to be) who lives in Brighton. Having explored some shops alone on the south coast she wanted to try some in London and we had high expectations.

On arrival at the dress shop we were introduced to our assistant and asked what the bride was looking for. The answer to this was a few things...a bit unsure but maybe a fish tail. We were literally marched towards the fish tail section and scorn was poured if I wondered off to look anywhere else at all the delights of the shop. The B2B picked 5 dresses to try and told this was enough. She also told the assistant she had a short list of 5 and was told in a rude way that in fact is not a short list, that s when you pick 1 or 2...I beg to disagree if you pick 1 that's your dress...not a short list.

While B2B was marched off to the changing room there was another bride standing in the mirror with a dress on alone. I told her she looked nice (you know, she maybe wanted the support since she had no friends or family to gush) at this point our 'helper' decided to tell me 'other brides don't like you looking at them while they're in dresses' excuse me?

She also refused to pin my size 6-8 friend in 'in case it damaged the dresses' so she couldn't get any idea of what the sample size 10-12's would look at if they were close to fitting. After she tried 4 (for some reason she wasn't offered to try the 5th dress she had earmarked) we were basically frog marched out. I wasn't allowed to take any photos of my friend in the dresses or anything else for that matter 'not our policy it's copyright for the dresses'. The same dresses that are photographed to death in magazines? I found this hard to believe. I did sneak one photo however...

Clearly this woman wanted to go home and hated her job. B2B even said if she had love a dress she wouldn't have wanted to buy it from here due to the horrible woman. Such a shame. All this and never mind champagne we weren't even offered water...

I will not name the shop but if you are interested drop me a comment and I'll let you know. Since I had never been dress shopping before I was sorely disappointed, surely the movies can't be lying to me?! This can't be it?

Luckily we had a trip booked in to Brighton the following week to see the shortlist, and I was assured we would have a completely different experience. Of which I will keep you posted.

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Gateway to the Soul

If your eyes are the gateway to the soul, I have a very strict door policy. Also known as my glasses. Some people say they have milk bottles - I have triple glazing. I have worn glasses forever (don't judge me by my mullet...)

I've never met anyone with as bad eyesight as me. If people try on my glasses they describe it as being the most pis**d they have ever been...fantastic, best night you've ever had...just remove the specs! About 18 months ago a friend of mine had eye surgery more effective than laser surgery (it lasts forever, not 10 years) and they can do it for people with really bad astigmatisms. This is one of my slew of problems, instead of being spherical my eyes are the shape of rugby balls, which means contact lenses don't play ball and slip all over the place blinding you until they reline. In my case they don't even do this.

I had been curious about the surgery, known as intraocular lens replacement. They basically remove your faulty lens and replace it with effectively a permanent contact lens based on your prescription - that doesn't have the opportunity to slip around. Nerves were the thing holding back from taking the plunge. I didn't know if I could go through with someone literally injecting your eye to numb it, then slicing it open, taking out a bit of my eye then replacing it with a foreign body.

I put it on my list of things to do in 2011, but didn't get around to it/was still too much of a wimp. In 2012 I decided this was my year. I was going to be free from glasses, buy loads of sunglasses and maybe change my hairstyle. After speaking to the friend who had it done and being reassured I wouldn't be horrified by the procedure I booked in for a consultation at Optical Express Harley Street.

Even weeks out of my appointment I was nervous. I had to have dilation eye drops. I am honestly a massive wimp when it comes to eyes and drops are my idea of a nightmare. On the day I was actually feeling OK about it all. After reading more about it I was hyped up that I could go through with it. Although I knew there was a possibility I wouldn't be suitable it didn't really cross my mind.

We headed off to the surgery and were called in fairly promptly after 4 pages of form filling on detailed family history and medical ailments dating back to the 1800's. First off we watched a video (horror movie) telling you how safe it is etc. etc. Then it was time for the dreaded glaucoma test...why can a puff of air be so scary? I was very proud that I managed three whole puffs in each eye, that is definitely a record.

Next up it was a general eye test and lots of eye measurements. This is where it all started to go wrong. I was deemed unsuitable. Was it due to my epic astigmatism? No. My massive farsightedness and high prescription? No. The chamber that holds my lens is too shallow. Excuse me what?! What chamber? I didn't even know I had one let alone that it would provide another eye problem to add to my extensive list.

Just breaking up with another glasses pic...this dress is probably back in fashion

It was only at this point I realised how much I REALLY wanted the surgery. I had picked a date to have it done and everything, being told in the first consultation I could be glasses free in as little as 4 weeks. Gutted isn't the word. They then left me in a corridor where I had the joy of watching successful candidates go in and come out of their surgery with their lives being changed forever. Salt, wounds, thank you very much.

So, I am deemed to be a glasses wearer for life. No treatment known to man can cure me. The good news? My eye site will go on to deteriorate until I'm about 40 where I'll probably need cataract replacement surgery. Lovely, my chamber isn't too small for that then.

Who says you can't party avec bins?

If you have made it this far into this post congratulations - rant over. If you have read this far because you are considering similar surgery here's the info. If you're thinking about laser the max prescription they do is +4.5 (if you know your prescription).

This was intended to be a series of posts on the progression of surgery and changing of life. Unfortunately that won't be happening.

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#Fail #EPICFail

So, I had a pretty much train wreck of a day on Saturday. I decided to go to Westfield (west, not east) to collect my Michael Kors bag that has been held captive at the repair unit since mid December. It started off OK, I picked up a couple of pieces in the French Connection sale (although I did try on 12 items and only two were deemed worthy of a purchase). I then went to collect my bag.

The girl I have dealt with over email and phone was on holiday, however the other lady in the shop was very helpful and immediately pranced backstage (to the store room) to collect my estranged love one. An uncomfortable amount of time later she reappeared with a carrier bag, out of it...not my bag. So, back she went this time less of an uncomfortable amount she reappeared, this time with the correct bag. Phew. I was however slightly disappointed with the service, it took over a month (granted it was over Christmas), but I thought maybe the bag would have been cleaned/polished/buffed to a pristine condition for my troubles, it wasn't. Still worse was to come...

I may be completely overreacting here, but since when haven't you been able to pay for goods in Boots with part Advantage card points, part cash/card? I had a couple of smaller items and a 3 for 2 offer on haircare. I also have almost £15 in points (around the same amount of the two hair products). My items were scanned and I entered my Advantage Card. I then stated I wanted to pay with points and was told I didn't have enough, so I said I'd pay the rest on card. This is when the trouble started.

I literally said it was the strangest thing I've ever heard, why couldn't I part pay? He didn't know. His genius answer was to pay for two of the haircare products on card then the rest with my points....errrr slight problem...it's a 3 for 2 deal! WHY would I want to pay for something that would be free should I buy it together? He said if I purchased the other smaller items on card I would have enough points to pay for my 3 for 2. So that's what I did. When it came to buy the rest I was 8 points short and he refused for me to make up the 8p in cash. So stupid. When I pointed out you always could pay part and part another clerk butted in to say 'yeah about 10-15 years ago'. I was so enraged I didn't buy the things. Seriously, that is such a stupid rule.

I then continued shopping and was pretty knarked off. I even went as far as to pull Boots a dirty look as I walked by (mature). I decided to go into Debenhams to look for a camera case. The camera I got for Christmas really isn't in the best 'hands' residing in one of my running gloves acting as a make shift case. When in here there were some nice gifty bits...I thought this would be a pretty good pressie for a relative named Bill.

This is the moment where I turned around and felt my bag of French connection goodies be blocked in it's path by something...a vase. It teetered while all I could do was look in despair. My reflex was to block it's fall with my shoe. It did actually cushion it a bit. Not enough. It then swayed joyfully on the floor as it smashed into a million pieces. Great. I am 'that' person, thank god I wasn't out shopping with my Mum, she always used to say 'careful you don't smash anything' and my personal favourite...'you'll have to pay for that.'

I looked around helplessly as no store workers rushed over to assist. There were however some children running around (no, I didn't think about blaming them) and a parent who looked at me with a 'Judgey von Holier than thou' face. I was therefore reluctant to step away from my mess in case a) a child got hurt or b) Judgey thought I was bolting. Eventually I had to leave the mess. I picked up the two biggest bits of glass and took them to a nearby till point where three cashiers were having a merry old chat and not serving any customers. I presented them with my smashed produce and asked for a brush. One of the young attendees said he didn't have one but walked off. I followed him and retreated back to my mess. As I was trailing in his wake I asked if I should pay for the vase. Thankfully the answer was a casual 'no' as if this happens all the time. And here was me with the fear of god in me I was going to banned/penniless/shamed.

I thought I should take my sorry arse home after this, but I wanted some nice dinner and a bottle of champagne having just received a bonus at work. I went to M&S first as they usually have a decent selection, but no. Nothing that tickled my fancy. I then deduced in Morrisons they would be very reasonably priced. After trawling the wine aisle three times I couldn't see any champagne. My eyes were literally deceiving me. I asked an attendant and champagne is actually kept, in this particular Shepherds Bush branch of Morrisons...behind the cigarette counter. Classy. I went over there, the selection was tiny and the queue was enormous. Cue my leaving. Tesco Express on the way home would have to do.

Somehow on the way home from the station I managed to MISS Tesco express. How? I have no idea. It has surely been moved. Thus concludes my epic fail of a day.

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IOS5

So how annoyed am I now? Just went to update my iPhone to the latest software...my computer memory isn't big enough for the cloud so nothing can be backed up...apparently. Then what happens? The whole thing cocks up and I lose everything on my phone and have to restore.

Everything.

Photos that I haven't uploaded onto the PC, phone numbers, calendar, all my messages, notes (some relating to work), saved safari bookmarks.

Severely pissed off doesn't even cover it. Why when I plug the phone into iTunes and it syncs does it say 'backing up' what the hell is it backing up exactly if I have NOTHING?

This isn't the first time this has happened. In December last year I lost everything. Some how I have so much more this time.

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The Pedi from hell...not for the feint hearted

So, I've been going to the same nail salon for about a year and a half (quite long for me since I've moved a lot over the last few years) they are really reasonably priced and do a good job, plus they serve amazing green tea. I always get the same thing done too and had never had a pedicure before in my life. I see people getting them done on a Saturday afternoon in the massage chair and it looks really nice, so before I went to Vegas I decided to go for it. They also do a great deluxe mani pedi deal, so me and my housemate booked in to have it done together.

I felt all very relaxed and was looking forward to being pampered for a couple of hours. I sat in the chair and set the massage to roll.

The girl who was assigned to do it I've never seen in the shop before. The man (who is the best at manicures) was assigned to my friend, the owner was not in yet. As she started there was a lot going on...one foot was in the spa getting bubbled away, my back was being electronically massaged and she was working the bottom of my foot. It was quite painful in parts, but I've come to expect this from a decent manicure...beauty is pain as they say!

She spent ages on my first foot which was nice, I KNEW they needed a lot of work! She then asked me if I hike...er no, but I run, I responded. Her answer to this, barefoot?! Ok so my feet are bad but it's walking in London, there is a lot of walking involved!

She started on my second foot and it was still uncomfortable in parts, then I had a really sharp pain and jumped. I was ok she assured and carried on, albeit a bit more carefully. She then seemed to finish that foot remarkably quicker than the last.

Once she put some cream on my feet is when I noticed her (gloved) hands had blood dripping from them..."er excuse me am I bleeding?!" a phrase that caused the manager to come over. Once she summoned the girl to get the first aid kit I was told it was fine. When I asked if the cut was big the trainee said yes and looked worried as the manager said no!

The trainee was clearly very flustered, I felt a bit sorry for her until I realised she had obviously known she'd hurt me when I jumped but she chose to ignore it, that's why the right foot had so little attention compared to the left, she was trying to breeze over the fact she had taken a chunk out of my foot!

I was then told by the manager (who I really like) it happens! I was expecting a bit more care than the worry that everything I had touched had to be disinfected immediately. As I still had a manicure to go I was in there for a while after, long enough for me to bleed onto my shoes! What makes it worse? I didn't get it free, I didn't even get a discount!

Now if this was the end of the story I'd probably let it go, I like the woman she always does a good job of my hands, however as you well know I was off to Vegas. Now when I say I was in pain, I was in PAIN! I couldn't even walk properly. They don't open on Sunday's otherwise I would have called them and told them how sore it was, literally I couldn't even sleep because the covers were irritating it.

When we got on holiday the only shoes I took were sandals. There were two particular areas of excruciating pain, the heel where she had wounded me and also the ball of my foot which had somehow cracked all the way around, it was disgusting. Because of this I had to wear plasters on these ares, you can imagine how attractive that was in my sandals and around the pool...hmmm

(This is where I would normally post a photo, I have left these to the bottom so you can stop before you have to see them, if you so wish)

This went on for days, I had a limp it wasn't fun. In the night I had resorted to fashioning sort of makeshift bandages out of wet flannels and strapping them on with hair ties and a bikini strap. (I imagine this is the suburban equivalent of survival in the wild, very Bear Grills of me)

So this went on for the whole holiday. One day while we were shopping I resorted to the purchase of a pair of trainers (reebok ree-tones, I had fancied a pair to see if they were going to make me skinny) and socks, and immediately putting them on in the shop. It was so nice to even have socks on!

The only problem being I had packed a very smart outfit collection for day, trainers were just not going to set it off! Luckily on the day of purchase I was in jean shorts, however all I had for the rest of the time were dresses...the next day in the Bellagio brunch with no chance I was going to bear the agony of sandals I put on my tea style dress and the reetones!

Suffice to say I'm never going back there! (the nail salon, I'd quite like to go back to the Bellagio) I had considered going back and telling them exactly how much pain I'd been in, but not sure what I want out of it, a free manicure? Nah. So I actually went to a new nail bar when I got back. Honestly it was not good. They did a fine job, but just 'fine'. I didn't get any conversation or a green tea, and it was more expensive.

What to do now? Go back to the butchers or try and find another one!!

There are the photos of my heels soon after the attack. I haven't taken any of what they look like now as honestly I'm embarrassed!

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Ode to TFL

Second day back at work...like the journey to Ealing isn't far enough. I'm currently standing (freezing) at east acton. The tube arrived here at 0850. At 0905 we were ceremoniously turfed off with no explanation. The replacement train behind wasn't even going to Ealing. Neither is the second that's just arrived. What really adds insult to injury is that after a mere 15 minute delay the tube status on my phone says 'good service' ...my arse!!

Alas before I even have a chance to post this the central line strikes again. Yet again a reading of 'good service but there isn't a central line train for 14 minutes?!? Don't get me wrong its not some ungodly hour...it's 18.20 on a Monday!! What the heck is going on?!

Oh and on another minor whinge..to the 'gentleman' this morning who physically bummed me out of the way so he could get the seat someone was vacating..bravo. Single handedly proving chivalry is very much alive.

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London Underground, Tourists and the summer...

I won't be the only person experiencing this problem. If you do not work in London or a big city you may as well stop reading this now. This is concerning tourists, holiday makers, families and school trips who insist on using the London underground during rush hour...without a clue.

We've experienced them all...the ones who stop. In the middle of no where. For no good reason. This can be on an escalator on the walking side, one of my personal favourites as soon as they get to the top of the escalator. The ticket barrier, as soon as they've gone through the ticket barrier, as soon as they see a sign, as soon as they see another person! Really just keep walking. The London underground is incredibly well signposted. It really is idiot proof. So why do so many people stop in the middle of a busy isle and get out a map?

One of my next favourite is enormous groups of (generally) French school trips who insist on making sure all 217 pupils are huddled together making one unavoidable, impossible to navigate around clump of idiocy. They are easily identifiable by the backpacks they insist on wearing really loosely so they hang roughly round their knees. One teacher is at the front dawdling, another at the back - aimlessly trying to make anyone move in any logical direction or speed.

I know people like this have to travel on the network, I'm just saying...why during the hours of 7.30 and 9.30 and 16.45 and 18.30?! there are plenty of quiet times of the day when yes, your enormous suitcase will fit on the tube, yes of course that double stroller / 2 bedroom semi will squeeze on!

And while in on the subject...people in the street who insist on walking 4 people wide when there is no room for anyone else to get around. The number of times I've risked my life darting into the bus lane to avoid this particular breed of muppets...just walk sensibly. Or if you see someone who is clearly rushing for a train just part like the red sea and be considerate - do not scornfully look at me when I have no other choice but to nudge your 2,000 Primark bags in order to navigate the pavement.

Rant over...it's the school holidays (great now we also have 4-11 year olds to content with...)

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