30 March 2006

Brilliant Tips for Budding Bar Staff - #3 Never Drink in Your Own Watering Hole

I think you know what I mean here. I'm not saying don't have a drink in your bar, I'm saying don't get drunk beyond all common sense and decency in your own bar. You will never live the humiliation down.

Having said that, most of our bar staff have been highly intoxicated in my bar at some point while not at work - some more frequently than others. It's a bit like a spectator sport for the rest of the staff, and sometimes bets are even taken.

Unfortunately I joined these sorry ranks a few weeks ago - the bar staff are still making things up to tell me (at least I can't remember doing them - so they must be made up, right??)

28 March 2006

Me and Mrs Jones

You know, there really are times when I wish I had either a laptop, or a really nice (and capable) mobile phone.

I'm currently writing the original of this post on a plain paper notepad while sat with my knees around my ears on the train back to university. But it's not so bad; I have a reserved seat and no-one has demanded I remove my overstuffed rucksack from the adjacent seat yet.

Whenever I do go home on the train I always make a determined effort to not look like a student.

I always fail

Because of the necessity to change trains I try and dress practically (train stations are cold places). This means a 35 litre rucksack, sensible flat boots or trainers, a fleece (usually emblazoned with my university name) and my long hooded coat. Add to this a permanent look of confusion and droopy, tired eyes. I don't think I could look more like a student if I tried - but yet so far I haven't been mugged or victimised while standing alone on a station platform. Maybe it's the aura I project of 'leave me the hell alone and don't even try it'!

Like anyone who's been away from home for a while, it's a very bizarre feeling to walk back into your family home after an absence of several months. It's the little things I miss from home, like the smell of the breadmaker first thing in the morning, and the dog diving headlong across my lap and landing with his head between my cleavage (just like a typical man). What I don't like to find when I return home is that my mother has started bagging up my clothes for the charity shop, and started storing some of her clothes in my room. It's nice to feel wanted.

Going home for mother's day was always going to get me Brownie Points, but I was just as thankful for having a few days 'proper sleep', with no telephone calls at antisocial hours, no fire alarms, no noisy students and definitely no sleepwalking.

The sleepwalking thing is ironic really. I only started wandering when I first went to university, and it was usually when I had slept somewhere else, like after I had been home for a weekend, or when I first returned home for the holidays. I blamed it on a constant change of environment, and it really didn't happen all that often - once every four to six months.

I haven't been home in months, yet last week I went for FOUR moonlit strolls, and slept like a baby when I got home.

It's been a source of amusement that I've spent a lot of my time at home sleeping. I slept on both trains home, the car from the station to home, the car to the restaurant for Sunday lunch, the car back from lunch, and then the sofa all the way through Harry Potter in the afternoon. In fact my father (the great Mr Jones) found my lassitude incredibly amusing. So amusing in fact that a quick twitch of the steering wheel in his hands caused my head to leave the head rest and smack with a resounding thud against the supporting strut to the side of my face. His hands conveniently twitched four times on the way home. I may have sulked while they laughed hysterically.

I always vowed when I started this blog that I would not write about family and friends, but I'm going to break that rule here and now.

As I've mentioned in comments on Tom's blog, my mother is registered disabled and has to walk with a stick. Since I've been away so long I hadn't realised her condition had changed so much. After having treatment with the more common, and possibly cheaper drugs, the powers that be decided that she could try a much more expensive, so called 'wonder drug'. I don't even know where she's hidden the walking stick now, because she certainly doesn't need it at the moment. She even raced me up the stairs yesterday, as well as taking me for some much needed retail therapy.

And that you see is the advantage of being a skint female student, as well as daughter to a dedicated follower of fashion. My mother is the original fashionista, and she even boasts wearing hot-pants in the 1970s (had I not seen the photos I wouldn't have believed it myself - damn she had better legs than I do!)

She hadn't told Daddy Jones, but she'd been buying me clothes in the sales for weeks, as well as exercising her plastic for me when I actually got home.

In return for this I attempted to fix their company computer. I got most of it sorted, but the rest is beyond even me - and with the year-end approaching for their business I really don't want to be too daring.

This is where it gets interesting though. Despite spending money with my mother, I'm a definite daddy's girl. You see, despite being a very dozey, almost blonde tart sometimes, I'm a very firm tomboy. I think my dad secretly wanted a boy, but he made the best of a bad job. This probably explains why I was sat in the kitchen last night with my father, watching University Challenge and drinking whiskey while my mother sat and watched Coronation Street in the living room.

Following my visit home a few things have come to light:

  • I am no closer to deciding between a career in medicine or a career in the ambulance service, even though my mother has promised me a pink stethoscope for medical school.

  • I can always go into the family business if I want to - my father has promised he would train me up.

  • There is a possibility of my father teaching me to ride a motorcycle this summer. (I'm letting him tell my mother - he's braver than I am)

  • After discussing why the iPod mini they bought me is dying (internal battery failing after 2 years of constant use), my father has promised me a new iPod (30Gb video) and speaker dock if I pass my masters degree.

  • Mr and Mrs Jones will support little Merys no matter what she decides to do (although they would prefer to introduce her to friends as Dr Merys Jones).

Final deadline to make my decision through UCAS - May 16 (I think)

26 March 2006

Home for sleep

Ok, I've had enough now. I've been sleepwalking again and I feel like I haven't had enough sleep for the last week - so I'm doing what every good student does in times of need;

I'm going home for a few days.

I am not, however taking any washing with me. I'm good like that (besides, I actually like doing laundry!)

I intend to sleep for the entire journey home, with my iPod plugged firmly into my lugholes. With any chance I may even wake up for my stop!

While I do have the internet at home, dial-up ain't broadband so I may not post for a few days!

(sleepy) Merys

23 March 2006


Sorry Guys, and any of you that commented, if you wanna leave them again that would be gratefully appreciated. I'm being a proper bint and managed to delete the post and then recover it, only to have to republish and lose the comments!

The one where Merys is a daft bint...again (again)

In my usual frame of mind, I decided to try and see how long I could manage without anti-inflammatories (diclofenac). I stopped taking them on Sunday, and was still feeling OK on Monday so I decided that it must all be in my head.

Now i'm in pain. Everything hurts today - my back, my knees, my wrists, my neck, my ankles are even a bit uncomfortable. Not that I'm after sympathy because it is my own choice after all. I just wish at age 22 I didn't have this. Should also try and prove this to my useless GP, since she told me it was all in my head.

Hmm, anyway, rant over - will start taking diclofenac again this afternoon.

Merys' day so far: Get up at 9, speak in depth to parents
Have bath, wash tangled mane etc
Ring my potential medical school re: accommodation
Ring my potential paramedic school re: fitness test
Ring my mother and relate all previous information
Have breakfast
Attempt to study
Bleach all worksurfaces
Ring someone else
Cook dinner of duck breast with hoisin sauce

Done a lot today haven't I?

Currently watching Serenity (again) and trying to eat and study together.

22 March 2006

Southpark Merys

I found this lovely little site courtesy of Mr Bill Sticker, traffic warden extraordinaire!
here's what yours truly would look like in the best cartoon in the world (after The Simpsons and Futurama of course!)

21 March 2006

And again....

And I've been at it again. I was doing it on Saturday night (twice), and last night I was strolling around looking for my boots.

This is getting bizarre again. There's no real suprise that I'm tired is there??

20 March 2006

A roundup of news

Hello guys and gals: I'm a mummy! Or rather my seamonkeys are. I have seamonkey babies in my tank now, meaning that they weren't all the same sex - obviously.

I have a job interview tomorrow to go on the bank for a nursing agency doing care assistant work. I really hope I get it because I need to balance my work experience up a bit (as well as needing the money). I've been doing lots and lots of observing with the ambulance (will summarise it in a few weeks maybe), and I think I've become heavily biased. Even the 5AM starts aren't bothering me anymore, and I've started drinking way too much tea.....

OK, so that's my good news out of the way. In less enthusiastic news I've been rejected from a paramedic course because I failed the fitness test. A slight concern to be honest. My heart rate went off all on its own accord, and didn't ask my permission to go over 178 bpm. I did the pissy girl thing and cried my eyes out on the train back home.
Needless to say I hit the gym with a vengeance.

Just got back from the gym so I need to dive headlong in the bath before I ferment in my own juices any longer. (Just did a fitness test and got a 'good level' score, so there really is no comparison is there?)

18 March 2006


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Created by bart666

Green is the colour

*my apologies, this should have been posted yesterday but I was having computer problems


Green, it would appear is the colour du jour. I heard someone described in my bar tonight as 'he's wearing a green top and has a shamrock on his face'. Because that could be one of two hundred people.
I swear that students will celebrate the opening of a paper bag sometimes. I don't mean this as derogatory to the Irish, I mean to say it's a celebration that isn't relevant to a lot of people.

14 March 2006

I like curry

Well, I don't actually like curry, but I did find this:

I like curry

Humour me and click the link

Student Diet

Ok so everyone assumes that I live off baked beans and pasta.
This is a blatant lie. I live off toast, crumpets, bananas and diet coke.

You need a strong stomach (and tolerant housemates) to live off beans all the time. I have neither and hate baked beans.

While I am an absolutely fabulous baker, I have a very limited range of meals that I can actually cook. Add to this my very limited budget and you have me living off limited food groups.
This isn't to say that I don't eat properly - I do (just not when I'm in my flat).

Having just looked in my fridge it consists of:
half a bottle of martini (has been there for 6 months)
Low fat margarine
Bag of peppers
Many tins of tuna
3 jars of Hoisin sauce
Skimmed milk
Low fat cream cheese
Water chestnuts
Weightwatchers Jam

Sitting on my shelf I have:
One egg
Tea bags
Tinned tomatoes
Tinned fruit

Recipe suggestions in the comments box please.

13 March 2006

Brilliant Tips for Budding Bar Staff - #2 Personality

It's funny to think, but customers aren't just frequenting a bar because of the price of the beer. The general atmosphere has an impact, and indirectly the behaviour and attitude of the staff (preferably friendly).

How you approach bar work has a direct effect on how easy your night will go and how much you make in tips. It's just like life. Karma comes round, and if you mouth off at the customers it will come right back at you. Thankfully, my bar is very laid back, and usually if a bar person gives a customer some attitude, it's been deserved and we're usually backed up by management.

It's always wise in a busy bar to have a good sense of humour. It makes the shift go quicker and you'll enjoy yourself more. This relates to your colleagues and the customers. It's well known in our bar that the majority of the staff are bonkers (myself included). It's quite common for us to dance around the bar, juggle bottles/glasses and generally wind the customers up.

Personally, I think you have a be a flirt to be a good bar maid, and I will slyly wiggle my arse under the guise of dancing while fixing someone a drink. Makes me smile even if no-one else does!

Sometimes I even get a 10 pence tip.

12 March 2006


Since I've been in a shitty mood lately I decided to treat myself to some new pets.
I now have 4 sea monkeys, who will hopefully decide to mate and have lots of little friends. However, they could all be the same sex, in which case I have a problem!

10 March 2006

I do something amazing

So I just got this through in the post this morning:

08 March 2006

What is the point?

Disclaimer: This is not a post designed to receive comments of sympathy, comisseration, or general attention. Hence why I have disabled the comments box. If something has pissed you off, then email or IM me (at the same address).
I am not trying to attention seek - just to vent.

I am honestly wondering what the whole f*****g point is at the moment. Seriously don't know what I want to do with my life, but I seem to be damned which ever way I turn.

The problem is the decision: I really can't make my mind up between being a doctor or being a paramedic. I've made the pro and con list, and it hasn't helped. I've had the arguments with the nearest and dearest and that hasn't helped either. Unfortunately it would appear that because I don't require my masters degree to be a paramedic, that it has been a waste of money (not my opinion) and I should use the masters degree for medicine. I've pointed out that this might be a slightly invalid reason for being a doctor. "Excuse me, I would like to be a doctor so I haven't just wasted 5 grand". Don't think that will wash somehow.

Quite frankly I feel like shite. I don't want to make this decision because no matter what I choose it will be wrong to someone. Am seriously considering jacking in the masters and both courses because it would make life a whole lot simpler. I should go back to what I do the best - retail and leisure work.

All I'm doing at the moment is panicking and crying a lot, and that does not a happy productive student make. I've even found myself starting with panic attacks again, which really irritates me.

On being a traitor

So, even though the lecturers strike was on yesterday, I had to cross the picket line. The problem: the computer suite is in a university department and I needed an electronic resource for some work.

I'm all for lecturers getting better pay, and a one, or even two day strike doesn't bother me that much (duvet day), but I do object to my work not being marked.

By all means, go on strike for better pay and conditions - I have no problem there. But by refusing to mark any assessments, write any exams or read any coursework - I could potentially have failed my masters.

It isn't my fault you don't get paid enough, God knows I pay the university enough in tuition fees. Unfortunately my opinion isn't shared by a lot of academics, and I'm preparing myself for a backlash.

Let's hope an agreement is made before owt drastic happens.

07 March 2006

Duvet Day

Lecturers strike = day of study (duvet day)

03 March 2006

It's all a tiny bit bizarre....

Well. I've had a recent barrage of interviews for various universities and various courses (hence why I went Dahn Sarf), and I find myself in a complete and utter quandry now.

As I previously mentioned, I have an offer for medical school. A conditional offer, meaning that I have to pass my masters if I wish to accept the place. This particular medical school has around 250 students (I think), and still has made more offers than places available.

Recently something very bizarre has happened. I have been made an offer to train to be a Paramedic through university. An unconditional offer. For anyone who doesn't know about how the UCAS system works in the UK, an unconditional offer refers to the university being happy with existing qualifications, and/or being so impressed that they don't care what you get in your current studies. I think I fall into the former category, having too many qualifications already.

The thing that suprised me about the offer to be a paramedic - they only have around 30 places for candidates, so they can't offer more places than they have.

What suprised me even more; getting an offer after digging myself a JCB sized hole and arguing (albeit constructively) with the interviewer about the new CPR guidelines and ethical implications of the automated chest compressors. All good fun.

Still very confused about my career plans. But thank you to the 4 people who think I should be a lap dancer. Always helpful.

Inclement Weather

A slight sprinkling of snow and the country goes to pieces. Worrying.

I had more snow than this at home at Christmas, and I didn't crash into anything (OK, so I did lock my wheels while stopping, but I didn't hit anything). To echo what You're Nicked has said, drive according to the weather you morons! A speed limit is in indication of maximum speed, not an order.

I was having much merriment watching stilleto clad bints tottering around yesterday, as well as the suede boot variety getting very wet feet. Osmosis; a truly wonderful action.

Why was I laughing quite so hard? I was dressed like Scott of the Antarctic. Maybe it's a Yorkshire thing, but snow doesn't phase me all that much. Maybe it's the snowboarding lessons paying off. Yesterday I was togged up in stout boots, quilted hiking trousers and a thick jacket.

Laughing; lots and lots. Me, I could survive anywhere.

Merys Mears

02 March 2006

Simple mathematics

Stilettos + snow/ice = base over apex.
Simple huh?

01 March 2006

I simply couldn't resist

Needless to say there was quite a lot of sniggering from the locals as I simply had to stop and take a picture!
Next stop - Hogsmeade

Merys' Adventures in the Big Smoke

I had written a lovely post yesterday on my way to London, but my phone decided that it wanted to eat it instead of post it.
So, I popped down to London in the name of education and careers. I still don't know which route I intend to follow, but parents nagging me won't make my decision any easier or quicker.
Every time I heard a southern accent my face lit up. I think I like London, although I'll admit that I didn't see a great deal of it. No time for sight-seeing. Just enough time for lunch with a long-suffering friend, interview and home. I couldn't even tell you which region of London I was in, and they were discussing the geography of the city at interview. Being the only Northern Bird, I was having difficulty in following the conversation. My limited knowledge of the tube map in the back of my diary hadn't been a great deal of help either. I fell to the kindness of strangers in my direction finding, and got hopelessly lost on the tube. Ne'er mind eh? It's all a learning curve.
And if you were on the tube today and saw an annoying chick in a red shirt being the only person standing on the left of the escalators - that was me! I just don't get the 'stand on the right' thing - surely standing on the left makes more sense in the scheme of driving on the left and overtaking on the right etc.... Maybe I'm too much of a Northener for London.