Quarter-life crises and balding men

Hi guys

What a week I've had. I need some good luck, or something to look forward to. Ever since I started my new job, things have been going so wrong. I've just finished writing up a piece I did last week. I got sent to an old mansion house, which is one of the oldest buildings in a nearby village and is supposed to be haunted. Melissa sent me along with one of my most boring colleagues, Mandy. I'm not being horrible (well, I am really...) but she is the most boring person I've ever met in my life and I'm including Nick in this, so you can tell how boring she is, can't you? She is about 40 and she acts like a nun, or something. She looks and acts much older than she is. We went to the house on Thursday, which was quite nice weather-wise, and she still wore a fleece jacket and a mid-calf length tartan skirt, which made her ankles look like tree trunks. She's got this red hair, but it's not a nice shade of red. Davina McCall wouldn't say nice things about Mandy's particular shade on her hair-dye adverts, put it that way. It just hangs in little limp threads around her shoulders. She wears circular rimmed glasses that she has a habit of looking over, so why bother wearing them? She is the ultimate frump. She talks dead slow, too. Honestly, I'm always yawning when I'm with her. I try to be all energetic and bouncy, but she still drawls and drives at 20mph in a 30 zone.

Anyway, I just wanted to give you a picture of the boringess that is Mandy, before continuing with my story. We went into the house, with our cameras and notebooks and Mandy started complaining about being cold. I was boiling, but she stood there shivering in her fleece. "I can sense paranormal activity," she'd said and I just shrugged my shoulders and tried to stop myself laughing as she started touching walls and going "Ooooh, Can you feel it, Callie?" No, I couldn't feel it. When I'd gone to the care home with Nick, I could feel it, but nothing was happening in the mansion house. It was just a plain old house.I reckon Mandy was trying to pretend just to get a good story.

Anyway, after an hour or boredom, we got back to the office and Mandy said that she would write up her experiences and I was to write up mine and on Monday we would collate the writing into an article. She said that if mine wasn't exciting then she would jazz it up a bit. In other words, they are making up stories to sensationalise them and attract readers. That is not the sort of journalist I want to be. I think I'm having one of those quarter-life crises that I read about recently. What if journalism isn't for me? What else can I do? Aaaaghhhh! I'm in crisis mode - help!!!

Today, I have written the truth - that the house, although old, was not in the least bit scary and if it was haunted, then maybe the ghosts come out after dark.

I'm going out with Erin again tonight. We went out for a meal last night and she told me that she was going to end it with her fiance, today. I tried to tell her that she is a committment-phobe and that the only reason she is dumping him is because she is scared of ending up with a baldy and that is just shallow. I also read recently that there is a new test people can do to see if a man is going to end up bald. If they sell them in chemists, I reckon Erin will be using it on new boyfriends. At least it will save the poor fellas from the humiliation of being dumped once their hair falls out. I am not that shallow. I have to find a decent fella to actually go out with and ask me to marry him before I start worrying about baldness.

Anyway, I best go now. I'm going out for a run while the weather is nice and then will have to shower before our night out. I can't wait to find out if she's decided to give it a go with him, though knowing Erin, the poor guy will be dumped for good.

I will catch up with you next week but until then,

Callie signing off

xxx

Moany Monday

Hi all

I am soooo tired. Hope you are all ok on this gloomy, wet Monday. I have been working literally all weekend. My boss decided it would be time to send me on a 'jolly'. Yep - a jolly. That's what she called it. I think her exact words were something like, "I thought it was about time that you went on a jolly. It's not fair that you're stuck here all the time while the others have all the fun. It's all expenses paid!" I didn't really get a choice and so I had to agree. I'm sure there is some law about having reasonable notice before having to give up an entire weekend but I was too fed up to argue. Anyway, jolly was not the word I would use to describe a rubbish weekend, locked up in a B& B (bed and breakfast) all by myself.

They sent me to this B & B near to some woods where people have reported UFO activity. I am quite interested in all this stuff - I love the X-Files, but I didn't want to have to go traipsing round woods in the dark, all by myself. I could have been murdered or anything! I wasn't murdered - as you've probably guessed, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this, but you can understand how scared I was, can't you?

It would have been perfect for Nick but I'm still not speaking to him, otherwise I might have suggested he join me. He would have had to pay for himself, but he's not short of money now he is some super journo in his new company.

I put my wellies and waterproof reflective jacket on and took my camera into the woods on Saturday and last night, because I didn't see anything on Saturday. I wasn't alone when I got there because there were loads of tourists with tents and everything, just watching the sky. At least I was getting paid extra to go, I wouldn't volunteer to spend my nights UFO watching. Boring. These people must have no life (no offence if you are one of them!).

Some of the people were nice, though. There was this lovely old man, Fred, who'd brought a flask of soup with him and he poured some for me because I was freezing. He told me that when he was little he saw a UFO and he said an alien put its face up against his window and it looked a little bit like ET but it was grey instead of brown. I didn't want to say anything, but I expect he was dreaming at the time - sleepwalking or something.

I did get to see something last night but it wasn't proof enough for me. There was a mist in the sky which glowed a bit and then disappeared. So, I didn't even get any photos. Melissa (my boss) was a little disappointed and she said that she would send someone else next time. As if it's my fault that the UFO didn't show up!

I'm going to the gym in a bit because I feel so flabby at the moment. Since starting this new job, I've not had time to exercise and there's always someone bringing cakes or biscuits into our office and I just stuff them into my mouth on auto-pilot. Coincidently, I read an article in the paper recently that said women who work long hours or who have high pressure jobs start to put on weight - Why didn't I think of writing this! I'm seriously slacking.

Anyway, I'm gonna grab my gym gear now and until next time...


Callie signing off

xxx

The Smiths were so right...

Hi guys,

How are you all doing? I hope you are doing better than I am. All I can say is...'I was looking for a job and then I found a job and heaven knows I'm miserable now....' - which is a line from the Smiths' song Heaven knows I'm miserable now. My new job is not what I'd expected at all. I should have stayed where I was, boo hoo, wail wail etc. I hate it. My boss is a right bitch and my colleagues are stuck up arrogant snobs who think they're better than me just because they've been there longer and have MBAs and so on. I could get an MBA if I wanted one -  I just don't want one. You don't need one for journalism anyway. Richard Branson and Sir Alan aint got them - they've just got great business sense. Agghhh! I'm feeling so stressed. I've just finished typing up copy for tomorrow because I didn't get chance to do it on Friday and, unlike my old workplace, if we don't get stuff finished on Friday we have to take it home and do it.

Just kill me now. I feel like going back to my old job on my hands and knees, clutching my handbag and saying 'please, Sir. Can I have some more?' and hope my old boss takes pity on me. I'm too proud for that, though, and my replacement looks just as much fun as my new colleagues. I was going to call them workmates, then, but they're no mates of mine. I just hope that as the weeks progress, I will start to settle in and they might start treating me a bit better.

Oh yeah, and Erin finally dumped her fella. She has a serious case of committment phobia, but at least it means I now have someone to go out with on Saturday nights. I couldn't go last night though because I was working and I was exhausted. We're gonna go out tonight, but Erin won't drink much because it is a school night - literally for her! She is still working at the same school as her ex but she has applied for a couple of other jobs. I warned her that she might go somewhere worse, but she doesn't care.

Anyway, I hope you all have a great week ahead and I will update you on my escapades next week. Until then...

Callie signing off

xxx

Screwed-up Sunday

Hi guys

I'm typing this with my left leg covered in plaster and bandages. Why? you may ask - well, it is all Lila's fault, as usual. I wanted to have a little leaving do on Friday, the only problem was I didn't want to invite anyone I worked with, because I don't like them and I can't wait to leave, so Lila kindly offered to organize a meal in town followed by drinks at the local rock club. She'd invited Ella and Erin (who, yet again, was free to join us now that she'd been separted from her fiance's hip) and so I decided to take Lila's advice and dress girly for a change. I bought myself a nice dress from the high street, which was blue with little daisies printed on it and I bought a pair of high heels. They were a dark blue, made to look like denimn, with high, wooden, clog-like heels. Admittedly, it did take me a while to get used to walking in them,  but by the time we reached the restaurant, I was walking like a pro (not that type of pro!!!).

It was quite a good night. The wine and the gossip was flowing. Erin admitted that she wasn't ready for marriage and that she had fallen out of love (or should it be lust?) with her fiance and so we told her that if this was how she was feeling then she had to call the wedding off. She said that she couldn't do that to him and that if she did she would have to face him in work and that would be terrible. I told her she needed a new job, then, but she said that it was so hard to find work these days that she should stay put. I sometimes feel like putting a bomb up her arse because she just won't get motivated to do anything. It's not fair on her fella either.

We went into the rock club and one of my favourite songs came on and so I forgot I wasn't wearing my docs and I ran to the dance floor and that was when my heels decided to splay in different directions. I skidded on somebody's beer they'd spilt on the floor and landed spread eagled near some skinheads. It would have been physically painful if I hadn't been so embarrassed. My embarrassment sort of blanked out any pain. The skinheads helped me up but I couldn't stand and that was when the shooting pains started. They had to call an ambulance. Everyone was staring and it was just horrible. I'm supposed to be starting my new job tomorrow. I'm still going, but it will be on crutches. I knew there was a reason I didn't dress girly. I don't care if men think I'm a lesbian anymore; I just want to be comfy and not break my ankle when I'm on a night out.

It took me a while to get used to the crutches, as well. I think I've finally gotten the hang of it, though. It's ok when I'm at home because everything is on one level - it's stairs that are a problem. I'll just have to hope the lifts work tomorrow. And that is most of my goss this week. The gang at work got me a card and a photo frame with all their ugly mugs in it. I don't know why they thought I'd like it. Obviously, I wasn't popular enough for them to put into a collection for me. I shouldn't grumble too much. Tomorrow is the start of my new career and I've just got this amazing feeling that it will be the start of something special. I will update you next week, but until then...

Callie signing off

xxx

Singalong Sunday

Hi guys

How are you all doin'? I'm ok. Last week in work was horrible. My boss is giving me all sorts of horrible jobs to do, just because I'm "leaving him in the lurch" (his words, not mine), such as sorting out the filing cabinet and waiting on all the visitors he's had recently. He interviewed for my replacement last Friday and I have to train up this geeky lad, all next week. I am so not looking forward to that.

I went out with the girls last week and it was great fun. We went to this transvestite bar first, which is always a good laugh. The only problem is that most of them look better than us, lol. Anyway, we went to this rock bar and Erin actually admitted that she felt too young to be settling down with her teacher guy. I knew there had to be something wrong, otherwise she wouldn't have come out by herself. She's been glued to him ever since she started that job. I told her it was just wedding jitters and all that but she went all quiet and weird. Ella was on top form and even before we got into the club she practically had her tongue down some poor unsuspecting guy's throat. He looked like Meatloaf. She likes that type - can't think why.

I didn't meet anyone. Typical. Lila says it's because men don't like women who look like lesbians (again, her words, not mine). I wouldn't like to get insulted by Lila because words come spewing out of her mouth before she's engaged her brain and most of the time she isn't trying to be insulting at all. I have nothing against lesbians, by the way and I know that some of them look extremely feminine;  it's just that, as I am not one, I don't wan't men to get the wrong idea. Lila says she's just trying to help. When I asked her to elaborate she said that I should grow my hair and stop wearing clumpy doc martens. I told her where to go, after that. There is no way on Earth that I am giving up my docs; they're comfy and they could come in  useful in the offchance that I may have to kick a deranged attacker who might want to murder me on my way home.

I can't wait to start my new job. I might get to meet a nice guy, there. I'm going out tonight with Lila. She's dragging me to the karaoke bar, because we haven't been for a while. The only problem is that the England match is on. I will have to wait until that's finished before I can get up and scream my lungs off. I hate the footie. I can't wait until it's all over. Lila likes watching football in the pub. She says it's a great place to meet men. I suppose it is, if you want a fella who likes to do nothing more than sit in a pub, swigging beer, burping and farting while he watches something I consider to be boring drivel. I don't know why she wants to go anyway considering she has a sugar daddy on the go.

Oh well, I am going to go get a bath now and then I'm gonna go up to my Mum's, have a Sunday roast before hitting the town with Lila. If you do like the footie, then I hope you enjoy it and "Come on England!" - I suppose I gotta show willing and all that. Until next time,

Callie signing off

xxx

Sizzling Saturday!

Hi guys

How are you? I am better than ever! I got the job! I got the job!Yipeeeee! Yee haaaaa! and all that....
I am so excited. I think I've spent the past week with a permanent smile etched on my face. I went to the interview last Monday and I was soooo nervous. I took my portfolio with me, which has all of my articles in it and I even dressed in a smart black trouser suit. It was a woman who interviewed me. She was lovely. Her name's Melissa and she's gonna be my new boss. She loved my work and said I would be joining a team of young, fresh talent and I should fit right in. She offered me the job on the spot and, obviously, I accepted! and then she showed me around the office where I will be working. I didn't get to meet everyone but there were about 4 or 5 people busy typing. They looked up and smiled at me and the atmosphere was just so laid back.

I felt so good handing my notice in. "Who's going to do Callie's World now?" was all that he said when I dumped it on his desk. "You'll have to change the name now." I'd replied and he'd just shrugged his shoulders and muttered "Congratulations." And that was that. I've got to give two weeks notice and then I'll be off to "The Rivendale Echo." I can't wait.

I'm going out with the girls tonight to celebrate. Erin is actually coming on a night out without her fella. Methinks the rose coloured spectacles have fallen off. I will find out later, of course.

It's a good job I've had something to smile about otherwise all this football on telly would have driven me mad! Why do they keep moving all of my favourite soaps around. It's not fair how my whole telly-watching routine has been ruined. Four whole weeks it goes on for, too - and then just when I think telly is going to get back to normal the Olympics starts! Oh well, hopefully I will be too busy with my new job to worry.

Anyway, I best go and get ready for my big girly night out. I hope you enjoy the week ahead and until net time...

Callie signing off

xxx

Gross-out Sunday

Hi guys

Sorry it's taken me until now to post. My internet connection went down on Thursday night and I was going to get somebody to sort it (because I have no idea about techie stuff. I used to ask Nick - but after last weekend we're not on speaking terms) but Erin, trying to be nice, told me she'd get her fiance to help me. Fat lot of good he was. He's supposed to be an IT specialist, but he spent ages last night faffing about with all these wires and in the end he gave up! I suppose he tried to help, but if he is supposed to be a specialist and teaching our future generation, then there's no hope for us! So, today, I had to spend nearly £100 for someone to sort it out because it's out of hours. Oh well - rant over. It seems to be working now.

Anyway, about last weekend...

As you know, my neighbour, Rosie, organised a lovely get-together in our communal garden to celebrate the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. She and her friends had done a great job decorating all the gates with bunting and setting out the tables, covering them in Union Jack flags. They had a stereo system connected up with some old songs playing and it was a great atmosphere. I'd invited Nick, but as soon as he arrived I could tell he didn't really want to be there, he had such a grumpy face. And then I remembered how I'd felt about him when he'd first come to work with me. I thought he was the most boring person ever. I'd only agreed to start going out with him again because I thought he'd get me a job in his place and he'd let his hair grow and he didn't look that old anymore - he actually looked quite cute. Anyway, for some strange reason, he turned up last Monday with his head shaved. I could see flecks of grey in it and he looked old again. I didn't want to say anything to him, at first, but the more drinks I had (followed by Rosie's notorious sherry trifle) I got a little bit tipsy and told him what I thought of him. I think it was something like, "God, you are so boring! Stop being such a miserable git and join in, will ya!"  I think his reply went something like this, "All you ever do is moan! I don't have to have a permanent smile etched on my face, you know, like some weird clown." And I'd said something like, "I don't think I've ever seen you smile. And what's with the hair! You look like a convict." I think that was when he slammed his drink down and shouted, "Don't call me!"
It was a little bit embarassing, I must admit. We haven't spoken since. I think I should apologize, but I doubt he will answer my calls. He is just so boring, though. Being with him at the party was like pulling teeth (Not an analogy I can use with Liam, though, considering he probably quite enjoys pulling teeth.)

So...after Nick had stormed off, Liam came over and sensing my distress (at being dumped in public) he came over and asked if I wanted to go to his apartment. At the time, I thought it was a great idea, because I felt I'd spoiled the party, a little. I told him that I didn't sleep with people on the first date and he said that it wasn't a date - but anyway, it was a huge mistake going into his apartment. I got to find out what a weirdo he is ( I could write an article about him).

Firstly, I noticed a smell of bleach, like a hospital smell, as soon as I walked through the door and the walls were so white it was almost clinical. All of the furniture looked like it had come straight out of an IKea catalogue and there was no dust or marks anywhere. My black TV and shelving unit has permanent dust on it that never comes off no matter how hard I clean, yet his black techno things were shining and mark-free.
He got us some wine and put coasters underneath, which every other man I'd dated didn't bother to do.
We had a good chat while we watched some coverage of the Jubilee on TV. After a while, I needed to go to the toilet. That was when things went downhill. On the wall next to the toilet was a poster entitled, "Choose your pooh" - not the most romantic thing to look at, I thought. It was gross. There were different shaped ones called different names such as grapes, corn on the cob and mashed potato. Apparently, if yours is like gravy, you have a problem. I gagged and was almost sick and then, when I went to wash my hands, I was greeted by another poster, stuck above the sink, describing the ins and outs of plaque, complete with a picture of someone's grubby teeth with bacteria on them. That's when I did have to be sick. It was just too much.

When I got back to the living room I asked him where I could get a drink of water and so I followed him into the kitchen and that, too, was clinical. His stainless steel things were actually stainless. I'd always thought stainless steel was a lie - mine are all covered in fingerprints and other gunk that just won't come off no matter what I do, yet his were all gleaming. I know he's a dentist and everything but this was all just too weird for me. After I'd drank the water, I made my excuses and left. It still gives me shivers to think that he lives in the apartment right above mine. Why can't I meet any normal guys? Maybe it's me who's too fussy. I should lower my standards - I'm not getting any younger! I could get an older guy, like Lila has. I've been calling her Sugar Baby - there was a thing on TV the other day about women who date older men - they call them Sugar Babies. Sounds quite nice, really. Doesn't make it sound pervy at all.

I'm going to Mum's later for Sunday dinner - although it's usually Sunday tea, by the time she's got it ready. I might stay overnight, because I have the day off tomorrow. I'm going to another interview. It's doing a similar job, but for a bigger paper. Fingers crossed.

Anyway, I'll go now but until next time...


Callie signing off xxx