I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it...

Every so often, you get amazingly good news. Good news could be a text, a letter, a lottery ticket, or it could occur in an early morning conversation. I am crazily excited, because in the early hours of this morning, I learnt the most awesome news...The Creepshow are coming to the UK. I have been wanting to see this band FOREVER.  Have even been thinking about going to Canada this year just to go to their gig. I love this band.

I am a Psychobilly. Which if you haven’t heard of this music genre, it takes Rockabilly music (50’s style rock n roll) and put a darker kick into it. It’s often linked with punk...not that I see myself as a punk...Psychobilly, in my world and definition, is like taking zombies and kitting them out with a double bass. Haha, yes that is the technical term. Anyhoo, The Creepshow - they are very much like the ‘Horrorpops’, but that comparison is like saying Galaxy is like Cadburys (just to clarify, Cadburys whips the backside of Galaxy). 

So, The Creepshow are coming to the UK in two months time, and I am so thrilled that I practically need peeling off the ceiling. I am, and always have been a bit of a music snob, not as bad as some people I know, but I am pretty black and white – I either love a band, or I don’t. The first time I heard The Creepshow, I remember being musically swept off of my feet - have a complete crush on Sarah Sin, and I cannot wait, to hear these guys live. This is my gig of a lifetime. 

I'm H.A.P.P.Y

Well, I am three days away from June, and I am very pleased to confirm, that I am 100% bonafied HAPPY.  I type this entry with a big grin, and tightly crossed fingers (metaphorically speaking, needless to say, I need my fingers for typing said entry). I’ve never been a lover of the SAD diagnosis, but at this point in time, the sky is blue, the sun is dazzling, and the world is a better place than it has been for the past 10 months.

They say be careful what you wish for, and I’ve always believed this to be ‘be careful what you wish for, because you may just get it’ meaning, that life doesn’t live up to the expectations that you first hoped, but I’ve been thinking this over recently, and I’ve changed my stance. ‘Be careful what you wish for, because you might just get it’ and you will be terrified that someone, somewhere, is lurking with a sharp pointy metal thing, ready to burst the resulting-wish bubble.

Over the past few weeks, I have noticed so many 1111’s , and for those who know me (or who read my voodoo post) know how insanely superstitious I am. When I noticed one this morning, I had nothing to wish for. It’s pretty scary, but right now I don’t want to change a thing about my life. It’s a rare occurrence for me, and since 2011, it’s even more unfathomable, but I am actually truly happy.

ALL SHARP POINTY METAL OBJECTS ARE BANNED IN MY WORLD FOR THE UNFORESEEABLE FUTURE. 

Tell Me Baby

It’s not often that I will concern myself with new mum articles; being as child friendly as a razorblade rattle, the world of new mum matters tend to fly straight over my head. However, my brain has been somewhat addled recently, and there is a distinct need to activate it again and what better kick start than a good old fashioned rant?

So, in the Daily Mail last week was the headline ‘How the 'most beautiful woman in the world' has been accused of betraying her country for failing to lose her baby weight’.  This extreme headline was all because of an unfortunate photo of Bollywood beauty - Aishwarya Rai. Ok admittedly, it was the most flattering photo, but be fair, she was in the back seat of a car, so why would she be looking glamorous? Not to mention that she has just had a baby – which again, is not something that I have ever considered, but I can’t see it being much of a picnic. We have all had unfortunate photos taken of us, whether from an awkward angle (or just a general angle) but luckily enough most of us have the luxury of ‘damage limitation’.

Many years ago, I was crazy enough for a brief moment to sign up to Facebook. YES I KNOW! I didn’t put anything private on it, I didn’t put any photos of myself. I knew that if something had happened in my world, the people who mattered would already know so I didn’t even update my wall. However, an ex-friend of mine had put some of our holiday photos on her Facebook and tagged me in them. Anyhoo, her boyfriend (and my at the time arch-enemy) decided to make a rather unflattering comment about my presence in this photo. This comment, because attached to my tagged image, appeared on my Facebook – there for all the people I knew, could read the insult over and over again. Needless to say, that was the beginning of the end to my FB liaison.

Yes, I know I have moaned about this in the past, but what right to people have to make comment on others? In what world do you believe that to be acceptable? I had never heard of Aishwarya, and I saw from her photo’s she was incredibly stunning - in fact more goddess than human, but she hardly looks like she’s chewing a wasp now – and as for the extra weight - I really don't think its done her any damage at all, I think she looks stunning. I found this picture taken at Cannes this year, and I think she looks amazing, hardly the whale the media are making her out to be. She is gorgeous. 

 There is far too much pressure on new mums to be yummy mums.  One comment quoted in the article said ‘Fans say actress, 38, should lose weight fast 'like Victoria Beckham did’. I couldn’t disagree more. Aishwarya was quoted in saying that she just ‘wants to focus on being a mum’ and in my mind, that is the lesson that women like Victoria Beckham can learn from, not the learning curve that puts figure before family. 

I`m so angry- Everything you do makes me furious with you

I try. I really do try; but sometimes, buttons get pushed and trying goes out of the window.

 I’m not known for my patience, my laid back attitude or my ability to suffer fools gladly.

Coming from a call centre background, I totally do my best to empathise with the god awful workload that is inflicted on the customer service reps. I know how frustrating it is to be bound by rules, I understand how annoying it is when you get the blame for company policy, but there is a point, when even I lose my patience, and I just want to call the half wit at the end of the phone, a god damn numpty!

I received a letter today from Npower – who ironically only this weekend,  was I defending their customer service from another disgruntled customer (aka my mum). Anyhoo, this letter told me that my gas safety inspection was due, and apparently they had tried numerous times (numerous being once) to get to my meter checked (during the day whilst I am at work) and if I didn’t arrange an appointment within the next 7 days I would be charged the cost of a warrant for them to force their way in. Now before I go any further, I know that by law the meter belongs to the company. I understand that every two years gas meters need to be checked. I am by no means moaning about the activity itself.

So, I call up the number on the letter and happily I don’t mind talking to the robotic women who tells me that she can’t find my reference number. I don’t mind waiting whilst I am placed in the queue to talk to an operator, and I don’t even mind repeating the same details that I gave to the automated service. I happily ask for a Saturday inspection as advertised on the letter (between 8am – 4pm). I am told that this weekend is booked. Fine. Next weekend. This is also booked. Not a problem I advise, just put me down for whatever Saturday is coming up, at what ever time and I will work around you. Turns out all imminent Saturdays are blanked out, and the agent ‘James’ tells me that instead he can offer me a two hour evening slot.

‘That would be lovely’ said I, ‘between 6pm and 8pm would be perfect...any night is fine, I will work around you’. What a wonderful customer I am. ‘I can book you an appointment for next Wednesday’ instructs James. ‘Lovely, so next Wednesday between 6-8pm, thats perf...’ ‘Not between 6-8’ interjects James ‘no,between 2 and 4’. I ponder for a moment, what kind of strange sleep patterns James must have that would result in him thinking 2pm is during the evening. ‘No James’ (yes I always use peoples names, because it’s so horrible being spoken to like you are a computer) ‘I don’t get home until after 5pm, so I can only do from 5pm’. The line goes quiet for a moment, and my faith in James continues to dwindle.

‘But the company don’t work after 4pm’ says he. I glance at the letter,  that is starting to screw itself up in my frustrated hand- there in black ink (boldblack ink just to emphasise the point) is the line:

Appointments between 8am-8pm Mon to Fri, 8am- 4pm Saturday’

‘Oh, but the letter states that I can have an appointment until 8pm’. I work during the week. I teach, so I can’t just decide to leave early, and I am certainly not going to use my holiday so that I can wait for your engineer, so, as I said, I will wait in for any evening between 6pm and 8pm. I will wait in during a Saturday- so what when will we be booking this appointment?’ and then, I swear I must have skipped back in time, because all of a sudden I am hearing the same statement as I did earlier ‘Well Mrs Foster, I can offer you a two hour appointment slot for next Wednesday’. Clutching to the final straw I tentatively ask ‘between 6 and 8pm’ Oh foolish woman. Of course not. Between 2 and 4pm.

Ok, this went on for a lot longer than I am willing to type, but if you could add at least another 7 minutes of circular conversation that would be great.

I now start to lose my patience... ‘James, I work. I work from 7am until atleast 4pm. My journey home is atleast an hour. I work very hard, and I am sure that you can appreciate that I like to use my annual leave on things I enjoy doing. However, there is a bank holiday coming up. I will sit in on whatever day most suitable so that you can come out then to inspect the meter’...but you know what? I am rebuffed as the inspectors do not work bank holidays – but what they can do instead is offer me an evening slot next Wednesday between 2pm and 4pm.

So I have now offered NPOWER 3 possibilities. NPOWER have offer 1 repeatedly.
1) I will sit in on my Saturday
2) I will wait in for any evening they wish to select
3) I will sacrifice my bank holiday for them to visit during a weekday.

And still the broken record continues. So confirm once again. ‘I WORK! I AM NOT HOME DURING THE DAY’, so James, my now not so friendly agent asks if I have someone else who could sit in for the inspection. ‘No JAMES, BECAUSE THEY ALL WORK TOO’. He then asks me if they could take holiday to wait instead. So let me get this straight. I won’t take holiday to sit in my house for the appointment, and yet you think other people will give up their holiday to sit in my house?’. You know what, forget it, I will go and find the first homeless guy or kid slacking from school and just see if they wouldn’t mind sitting around my house should I? He then goes on to tell me that if I don’t book the appointment I will receive the charge of £150. I wouldn’t mind, but I am perfectly happy to make an appointment and have now spent the past 23 minutes trying to do so, but stupidly,I would like to make an appointment that I can attend!

Now I am perfectly used to the world being set up for people who shouldn’t benefit to benefit, but this is damn right ridiculous. If you work hard, and you get off your butt to earn a living you will get fined because you’re not at home all day, but if you don’t work and are at home all day, then your fine? (yes fine, not fined...if I wasn’t so angry I would laugh at how funny I am).

James then comes up with a real stunner ‘If you call back tomorrow Mrs Foster, we might be able to get you a Saturday appointment’. I stare dumbfounded at the phone. For a slight moment, I even got excited, but then the brain kicked in. ‘But you said they don’t work on Saturday?’ silence follows. ‘James. Do they work on Saturdays?’. Silence continues. ‘DO THEY WORK ON SATURDAYS?’ he tells me that he is going to find out and that he is just going to put me on hold. Eventually, and yes, it was eventually, he returns ‘No Mrs Foster, they don’t work on Saturdays, but I can book you an appointment for Wednesday’

By this time, I have well and truly given up and do something I have always tried not to do. ‘JAMES, I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!’. He then tells me that his manager is in a meeting. Ok, well unlike NPOWER I do not discriminate against people who work, I am happy to speak to any manager. ‘They are ALL in a meeting’ he informs me. So during the busiest time for a call centre, NPOWER are smart enough for ALL of their managers to be in a meeting? Every single manager? In a meeting? When the phones are the busiest? When the most complaints are fielded? ALL YOUR MANAGERS ARE IN A MEETING?????’

I then tell him, that the second his manager appears, he WILL call me back and this WILL be tonight! James takes the details, he even had the audacity to ask if it was about the meter inspection. He then really pushed his luck, by asking if there was anything else that he could help with. I hung up at that point before I burst a blood vessel.

I have now been on the phone ranting to my mum ( and for this one time only, never to be said again I will admit ‘MOTHER KNEW BEST’ and ‘MUM WAS RIGHT’ NPOWER customer service is DISGRACEFUL ), I have cooked and eaten dinner. I have typed out this blog on a dodgy sticky space bar keyboard and I have dyed my hair, whilst waiting for the call back. Shockingly the call back has not happened.

AM NOW SEETHINGLY ANGRY...

Ok – I was angry last night when I typed the first part of this post (around 6pm)…angry didn’t even begin to cover it by 8pm last night. My stomach is still knotted this morning with the utter outrage from last night and so I have decided to update this entry (I am sure you read this with bated breath).

Shockingly I didn’t get a call back last night, so at 7pm I decided to write to the complaints department. To add insult to injury, when I went to submit the complaint, a message popped up advising me that the complaint had exceeded the maximum character allowance. Needless to say my anger then progressed up the Richter scale.

I decided if Npower wouldn’t call me, I would call them. So I called their complaints line. I was told by the automated message that my call would be answered in less than two minutes. I was happy to wait that time. I was less happy when I was still waiting twenty minutes later. Finally my call was answered, after nearly half an hour of waiting I was so relieved to talk to someone…Oh if only I knew then, what I know now.

The agent who answered my call told me that he wouldn’t be able to take my call, as the centre was too busy. At this point, I was that woman, and I did lose it. I didn’t swear, no I did something far worse and something I am not proud of…I cried! In sheer and utter defeat, I cried, I shouted and I couldn’t understand why he was wasting time arguing with me when he could be getting on with my call and sorting out the problem.

He then offers me a call back, but of course, I have heard this before, and I tell him as much - so instead, he tells me to call back at a quieter time – and when should I call back? WHEN I AM AT WORK!!!!

How can Npower think it acceptable to keep people queuing for half an hour, only to turn them away when they get through? How can they be so discriminatory against people who actually go to work? And with such a competitive market out there right now, how can they even call the experience I received last night Service?

Latest Update:
I received a letter from Npower this morning - the contents told me that they had been trying to phone me to discuss my complaint - oh and what times had they been trying to contact me? Oh yes, during the day...WHILST I AM AT WORK!!!!

11:11 To find you

To you,

I've been thinking about writing to you for a while now, because I guess at this point in time, you don’t know of my existence - in the same way that I don’t know of yours; but I like to think that in the same way that I am thinking of you now, that you think of me during the quiet moments of your life.

Whilst walking through town, travelling on the underground, sitting in traffic or ordering a drink in a bar, I look at the men who look at me, and I think, are they you? Have we passed in the street? Have we stood in the same queue? And then I think,  how will we meet? What will you say? Will we know instantly or will it be slow burning?

How will we know?

This time last year, and I wouldn’t have even considered you. You would be another life in the world that I hadn’t given a moment’s thought to, but the world turns and lives change. What has your life been like so far? Have you loved? Have you ever given your heart completely? Has it ever been broken? What scars will I kiss away?

What will our lives be like? Will we agree on wallpapers, will we fight over the washing up? Will you laugh at me when I pull the door that say's push. Will you be there for me when I stumble? 

Whenever I make a wish, I make the wish to find you.

I read that the heart is too big for one person alone, it needs someone to live inside it; I don’t know whether I am meant to be looking for you, I wouldn't know where to start searching, but I want you to know, that right here, right now, you are in my thoughts.

xx

Inspired by Rob Ryan's 'This is for you'