No Milk Today, My Love Has Gone Away

Before I move on to other things, just let me tell you a little story that will further illustrate the point of how fabulous my job is. This is so incredible I can barely believe it.

My boss, Gary, went on holidays to Toronto for 10 days. She came back Friday the 7th, and therefore the next business day would be Monday the 10th. We welcomed her back, everything was going swimmingly, I was making arrangements for her that I had been putting off until she got back (so that she could confirm or change them, not because I was being lazy). I had just scheduled an appointment for her for Monday with a director of one of our biggest clients, when she asked me, very nonchalantly (so nonchalantly that I didn't pick up the subtle note of impending doom in her voice),

“Lucia, am I going to the Bord Gais board meeting in Cork on Monday?”

I replied with confidence, “Sure, all your flights are booked, the relevant people are informed, all you have to do is show up.”

To which she replied, with a hint of amusement, “Then why have I six other appointments here in Dublin that day?”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

I buried my head in my hands, screwing my eyelids shut tight, in the futile hope that if I couldn't see the world, it would suddenly cease to exist. In the world of Personal Assisting, there is no cardinal sin bigger than diary cock-ups. Especially in Genesis, where the kind of people we deal with are the crème de la crème of the corporate ladder (usually directors, board members, CEOs, etc). Getting an hour alone with these people requires the same organisational and logistical efforts of say, the Dublin Marathon. Usually they (well, their PAs) know us and will make time for us, but re-scheduling can be and usually is a nightmare. Not to mention I'd totally screwed up Gary's week!

So, what was Gary's reaction to this debacle? My mind was racing with everything from “Oh, my god, I'm soooo embarrassed” to “I'll be sacked”. But Gary wasn't angry, or even disappointed. She just said,

“Well, Lucia, it's nice to know even you are fallible.”

WHAT??? Not only was she not going to make me feel bad about the enormous oversight I'd just committed, but she managed to find a way to compliment me about it!?! What an incredibly emotionally mature way to deal with the situation. Imagine the kind of place the workplace (indeed the world) would be if everyone chose to react in that supportive fashion instead of dishing out a heap of retribution. I still felt bad about my mistake, but I sure felt a hell of a lot better, and after I'd finished mentally beating myself about the head, I went into damage control mode, re-scheduling what I could and cancelling what I couldn't. Luck actually went my way as none of the clients seemed too put out by the changes (it doesn't always happen that way!). So that was the end of that. Unbelievable.

The other thing is - we're going boating! We're doing a project with Failte Ireland, the Irish tourist authority, into the Inland Cruising industry here in Ireland, so we have to do some product testing! Six of us (Gary, Michael, Una, Bridget, me and John O'Regan, the graphic designer we usually use to do the creative on our projects) are hiring a 9 berth cruiser for the weekend of the 21st/22nd/23rd of July and are going cruising on the Shannon! It's going to be soooo much fun! I'm in charge of all the organisation (hahahaha! The girl who couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery is taking care of the holiday arrangements of six people!) which is a bit scary, but ok. My colleagues are all great and loads of fun so I know we're going to have a great time, even if it rains for three days (though I really, really hope the weather is good, so we can swim and fish off the boat). The only unknown is John O'Regan, whom I've never met but from all reports is a raging alcoholic insomniac who smokes like a chimney. He could be awesome fun, or he could be a disaster. Every time we mentioned that John was coming, someone in the office would say, “Really? John? Oh, my goodness!”. After that happened two or three times I began to get intrigued as to exactly what kind of character we were dealing with here. I said,
“I'm kind of interested to meet this guy - everyone I've told that he's coming on this trip has had that reaction.” To which Roddy replied,
“You're exactly the type of bird he goes for; slightly left of centre. You know, a bit oddball. Wacky.”. Which is one of the most pleasing descriptions of my character I have ever heard, though you can judge for yourself whether or not it is accurate.

Anyway, enough about work. I've finally, after wanting to do it for aaages, started salsa classes. Shelly, the little genius, found classes that are:

a) close to home
b) only €8.00 and
c) really good.

I've only been to one class so far, but it was really fun and the teacher is good, actually correcting tecnique instead of just doing something and saying “copy me!”. Shelly and I are going together, and I think Marie is going to come too. Maybe Sabrina too, and if I mention it to Maria maybe she will come, who knows?

Another thing I've been putting off for ages is being part of some kind of organised sport. I found a football club just up the road from work with a ladies team - which would be absolutely perfect only training is on Mondays and Wednesdays, the same as the salsa. So perhaps I will try basketball or another sport instead. The idea is recreational, just have fun and meet people while doing something active, rather than taking it very seriously. But it's taking me a little while to find something suitable, close by and not a super dooper good team (the more tragic, the better). I need to play with crappy people!

A third thing that I've been putting off for ages and am finally getting around to doing is looking into becoming an adult literacy tutor. I find the literacy levels in supposedly developed countries like Ireland and Australia an absolute disgrace, and am going to do my bit to help. Furthermore it's downright dangerous for adults not to be able to read and write - both legally (how are they supposed to read contracts to sign them?) and physically (how do they read the correct dosage on medicine packaging?). The training courses don't start until September but I'm putting my name down now because this is something I really want to do.

I finally got into the World Cup - haven't missed a match in ages. All my teams are now out of the competition (well, to tell the truth Italy and France are the only two left) but I went to see France v. Portugal with my French flatmate, and although I was supporting Portugal in the end I was glad they didn't win; what bad sports they were! Tripping over every blade of grass on the pitch and beating up all the French players. I was appalled. Now I hope that Italy will take the cup, I was going for them before this whole thing started, much to the angerment (I think I just made up that word) of Marie, my French flatmate.

Now that I mention it, I don't think I told you about her before. Ilona, my old Polish roommate, fulfilled her dream of moving to London and working at Lucky Voice Karaoke, but that left us with a hole in the flat and the rent. That was filled by Marie, a 25 year old marine biology intern from Lyon. She's doing her final internship at Trinity College, has pictures of dolphins and jellyfish on her wall, loves aperitifs and hates Fabien Barthez (well, who doesn't).

Now it looks like Shelly and I will be leaving Bolton Street for slightly greener pastures. Well, not really, we're just going to be moving to a different part of the same paddock, since we really like the location we live in now but can't stand the flat we live in any more and furthermore it's just time, after a year, to have our own rooms. Our own space. As much as I love sharing a room (the company is good and it keeps costs down), privacy is a privilege that I have come to cherish over this last year. So we are (very slowly, without much motivation, since everyone hates moving) looking for a new place. But I am again coming to the same conclusion I came to when I was first flat-hunting here a year ago - Dublin is incredibly expensive.

Last night was the World Cup Grand Final, and what a game it was. I'll spare you the details as you either saw it or clearly don't give a damn about football, but the football was stylish and skilful, the atmosphere where we were was great (although I was supporting Italy and the place was full of French) and a great time was had by all (until the end, of course). Never have I been in such an enclosed space with so many testosterone-charged, hyper-tensioned Mediterranean men. If the smell of sweat wasn't so pervasive it could have been quite erotic. The only downers of the night were the Zidane debacle, and Trezeguet's face after it was all over. But even though none of my teams won, or even made it to the final, there's something so powerful about the image of the cup being lifted high, that I couldn't help but cheer my guts out. The other image that stuck with me was Zidane walking dejectedly back to the dressing rooms after being sent off - right past the World Cup.

As for me, my life is a little emptier without the beautiful game. I managed to move to the only country in Europe where football is not the main winter sport (it barely rates next to the Gaelic games). But I will fill it with other things, and wait it out until 2010.

I liked ending my blog last time with bits and pieces, so I will do so again. Here we go...

I'm planning a weekend in Lyon to go to Marie's birthday party...it's going to be soooo much fun, let's see how much of my high school French I can remember!

I've discovered a brand of Indian ready meals at Lidl for less than three euro a pop which don't have any additives and they use real spices (I can taste the fenugreek and I'm pretty sure I bit into a piece of clove). As I am now officially the laziest person in Dublin with regards to cooking this is a pot of treasure.

Last week the main printer at the office started to make bad clanking noises. We bought it last July, the 18th apparently. It's like they're programmed to break when the warranty's up. Hopefully I can get it fixed for free.

I have no appropriate summer clothes but summer is so short and cold here it's not really worth buying anything. Today I wore a skivvy and a skirt and I wasn't even hot.

I'm starting to think I over-analyse everything and take things too seriously.

Mark at work is a real prankster. Today he rang the bell and when I went to let him in there was nobody there. Sure enough he was waiting squished up next to the wall to jump out and scare me.

Paul Kelly's playing at the Village on the 24th. I really should buy tickets.

Sometimes, when I'm walking to and from work, I'm listening to my iPod, and a really good song comes on, and I smile, and someone walking the opposite way sees me and smiles back. That rocks. The other day I was listening to "Son of a Preacher Man" and miming the words and bopping along, and this guy beeped at me and gave me the thumbs up. Yeah.

A banana from the SPAR on the way to work costs me about 45 euro cents. This is outrageous.

Tonight I must go to bed early as last night I went at midnight (damn the match. Can't remember the last time I watched a match that didn't end in penalties!). On that note I will say, take care, see you soon! (And happy Independence Day for yesterday to all the Argies!)

Below you can find some pics of my flatmates, my ex-flatmates and I when Maria and Diana came to Dublin for a visit. The first pic is of some of the girls I've lived with so far (not all) but all of them live at Bolton Street/have lived at Bolton Street at some point. The last few are me, Maria, Maria and Diana (the original Bolton Streeters) pulling ridiculous faces to make ourselves laugh. Don't tell them I posted these here, they'll kill me.