Premier at the Lowry and half pizzed in the Vine!

Thursday 26th February 2009

I have this thing I do (well maybe now I have realised I do it I can find a way of stopping doing it,) I think that I can fit in more than I actually can, time wise I mean, a good example of this is today.

Although the Metallica tickets had been on the pin board for at least 6 weeks, and I knew that I had to be at the Arena for like 8.30pm for the show, when i got the call to say I had been the lucky winner of 12 tickets to see the movie "Confessions of a shopaholic" and that each ticket holder would also get an exclusive tote bag crammed full with merchandise from the film "the winner can also take one special friend to Lime restaurant for a slap up three course meal for two includng wine at a date to be agreed with the restaurant manager" (god i love getting phone calls like that)

The film preview was to start at 6.00pm (prompt) armed with the info, feckles invited 9 school friends, who would all meet up with us at the Lowry Cinema. I finished work at 5.00pm, met up with my neice Lolly and after a quick sausage roll each we were on the met to Harbour City, we got to the cinema and met up with a group 10 giggly excited 16 year old Makeup monsters -(seriously orange foundation???how do you even ask for that ) the collectable tote bags were handed out (see empty bags, empty promises), we settled in our seats, the cinema only had us 12 and maybe three other couples dotted about, this was indeed an (almost) private screening. I handed
handed out 11 packets of pom pom bear ready salted and a crunchy apiece (everyone likes crunchies!) watched 20 mins of the film, ensured all was well and left the group in the more than capable hands of my neice aged over 18 (there always has to be a responsible adult in charge of a group of minors, and as one wasnt available I figured lolly would do).

I then hotfooted it back to the met station (glad i had sought sustinence from said sausage roll as energy levels would surely have been flagging by now) caught met back to St Peters square where hubs was waiting, in the Vine Pub as arranged (a country pub in the city) from the empty glasses on the table, I realised I had some serious catching up with him on the drinking score as he had managed to down 4 pints of Timothy Taylors.

His eyes glazed over as I explained the shennanigans of the Shopaholic Tote Bag Fiasco "I will meet you at half past, in the Vine" He had said as I left home this morning, I must have misheard him as a more fitting description would be " I will meet you half pissed in the Vine" after getting him an emergency quarter pounder with cheese (gurkin removed) we called for a quick pint at a pub on the way to the Arena (my first pint of the night! and hubs settled for a wussy bottle)

The last time Metallica were in Manchester was 1996, I cant remember if I went but hubs did. So on Thursday 26th February 2009 at 8.40, the lights went down, the band came on and the rocking commenced............ now for the second part of the story you have to look at Mosh Pits and Naked bits, but sadly no Brad Pitts................

mahoo

Empty bags and empty promises

It now comes to light that the "crammed full of merchandise" part of the prize is nul and void and was an error on the part of the editing team and the newspaper. They didnt have anything to "cram" the bags with. Using my wit (but leaving the wisdom bit out eeek!) I did have a bit of fun corresponding with the PR girl, well i thought i was being witty and wimsical and i may have frightened (or pizzed her right off).

Although the editor had taken responsibily for the error, the phone call i received was from someone who thought I should be just glad i was getting anything, as I it was all free. She also told me I was aggressive, now this seems to be a running theme through things when i dont get my own way (and I like to get my own way, in fact i insist on it). So i may have to work on that in the future. in the meantime I can say that the night was a success, the tote bags empty though they were were very gratefully received by 10 teenagers (the other two bags went to younger siblings). Using creativing problem solving skills and just short of £4 i hotfooted to quality save in piccadilly and bought 10 packets of pom pom teddy bear crisps and 10 crunchies, I passed them down the line just as the film started.

I thought my email to the PR girl (Not the editor) was just funny, but maybe it wasnt taken that way as I have not heard from her since ..... see what you think

Emma

I have just received a phone call from Laura, she informs me that it was an error on their part and its just unfortunate really. Am I happy with this explanation and outcome, well not really. She did say my emails were aggressive and as i was getting something for nothing i should basically accept it.

I now have to think of how to tell a group of teenagers that their tote bags are indeed crammed - full of fresh air that is.! With my amazing "creative problem solving skills" i will pop into tesco tomorrow lunchtime and get 12 curly wurlies, i can hand these out whilst I explain that as Lucy says, everyone makes mistakes, perhaps its a good job she isnt a surgeon.

The luck I have had this week will possibly mean we will be forcibly ejected from the cinema for having smuggled our own sweets in. If your interested I will let you know what the girls think of the film (and the bags crammed with fresh air) next week.

On a happier note, I have contacted Lime in the Lowry and booked a table for 5.30pm on friday, I do hope there is no mixup with that one, after they present us with the bill and I say "oh no we are not paying we won it out of the metro" as i have visions of us being dragged from our table and given a pair of rubber gloves and washing up in the back.

Maria

When good comps go bad!

When Good Comps Go Bad!

The alternative title for tonights blog should have been "12 lucky people" but after a few frantic emails with the lovely Emma from my local newspaper things are not looking so good.

The comp I entered asked the mad easy question of which australian soap opera launched Isla Fishers global career? was it

a) Home and Away b) Neighbours or C) Sons and Daughters?

Pen, stamp and a well chosen postcard and the comp has been sent off.

Congratulations - Dear Winner the text said you have won A screening of shopaholic at 6.00pm at the Lowry this thursday* for yourself and 11 friends, yes they were thin on the ground at short notice and so early (most of my mates have teas to cook for hungry husbands and picky children) so my daughter rounded up the 11, all coming mostly on the promise of a goody bag " Each ticketholder will also get an exclusive tote bag crammed full with merchandise from the film" the promise stated on the competition page. I duly copied this and handed these out, spoke to a few mums who required confirmation of everything, all was looking good until...... my last email from Emma (events organiser) she wanted to make it very clear that goody bags were not on offer, just an empty reusable bag. I reminded her of the wording in the original competition only to be told .... this was not the wording she had given to the editorial dept at the newspaper.

The only part of the comp still the same is the meal for two with a bottle of wine at Lime in the Lowry. Unless of course, thats changed and its now a gregs pasty with a fresh donut of our choice!

My mind wandered back to a previous life when I was let down by an Events Manager .... oh no its not the first time a comp went AWOL Our family of four were "whisked" to whipsnade zoo, we met David Bellamy (great I waited almost 30 years and the fecks beard had gone white, where was the vibrant red beard that made having a colour tv in the 1970's so worthwhile, white, white? the kids were underwealmed especially my youngest who said "mummy why is father christmas dressed like that" she was of course referring to the khaki safari suit! I was lost for words and an adequate explanation.

Now dont get me wrong we were well fed and thoroughly enjoyed the hotel we stayed in, wonderful food and fab carvery at the zoo, but getting back to Luton station did not go to plan. Our train back to Manchester was cancelled and in its place three changes at various places along the original route home. The "Events "Management Team" fled like frightened gazelles up two flights of stairs as I turned round to request some assistance, as two of the girls had highly inappropriate footwear to have been walking round a Zoo, I still shiver with dread when I hear the sound of stilletoes on metal stairs, I get that same feeling of impending doom.

It was like Planes, Trains and Automobiles only with a very grumpy hubs (who thinks all public transport is for losers anyway) and two hungry, tired children not to mention rucksacks aplenty. I have never wanted my own bed quite so much before. Anyway back to my original story.

What will I do when the empty bags are given to my underwealmed guests? My name will be mud, mud I tell you , I wont be able to show my face in stretford/Urmston/Sale/ Hale or Bowden again and dont forget these are no ordinary school girls these are Loreto Roman Catholic Grammar Girls , never mind born with a silver spoon in their mouths, this lot were born with with a Mac makeup bag bulging with Borjois, Clarins and Touche Eclait, i can hear them now "ohmygodIcannotbelievethebagisempty OH MY GORD"

Events (Mis) Management would be a more appropriate job title

Thank god these people are not passing laws in parliament or making really big financial deals in huge banks or maybe they are ......

*Oh yeah and I darent tell hubs, who thinks its all mad anyway and will be waiting in the MEN Arena for me around 8.30ish as we have tickets for metallica.

Laters

Mahooo

Happy Holidays? NOT.......

Nice Christmas and New Year?

I hardly any where to start with this one….

I feel sorry for anyone who had the misfortune of bumping into me after the holidays, as when they uttered this question with a smile, I was forced to either lie – “quiet really”. Or take a deep breath and tell the truth…………. My father in law died on New Years Day 2009. Not for him a rainy Tuesday in February, or a windy Thursday in December, no, a day that will always be remembered and never mixed up with any other. John Kenny aged 76 years of age collapsed and fell on 17^th December and for a week he was on a drip with the usual health improving medication until he took a turn for the worst and it all went pear shaped. He basically stopped improving, he began to sleep all the time and couldn’t eat, because he couldnt swallow every part of him began to shut down, after discussions with doctors at (No) Hope Hospital, it was decided to ensure he was in no pain they would administer Morphine by drip, over a 24 hour period. This was inserted on 26^th December, by 27^th we thought it best to get the local priest to give the last rites, (strangely comforting for an old non believer like myself) hugely beneficial to the family and I believe john who was by now unconscious. We were told one maybe two days, but tough as old boots even to the end (the dreadful black eye he had received when he collapsed was healing better than I have seen on anyone!) he just lasted and lasted; the ward ran out of morphine and had to send out for it. On the morning of the new year he was checking out, by the time Hubs and the rest of the family got their he had been gone maybe 20 minutes, I know mixed with the terrible guilt of not being their when this happened there is grief as painful as a stake through a heart .

Meanwhile back at home and fairly unaware of the finality of it all I had prepared a roast dinner with the idea that my mum in law could come and have a decent meal, she had been surviving on hospital canteen fare which is fairly grim and non too balanced. At around 2.00pm the Kenny’s came back and drank various quality whiskies and it didn’t matter than all the shot glasses didn’t match, MIL ate the roast dinner ravenously and in a state of shock and everyone else had sandwiches. We passed tissues round and whilst everyone else thought of new beginnings and 2009 we were in our own little bubble of grief knowing that for the previous two years John had been suffering from Dementia and didnt always know who we were made this no easier to accept, something had ended on a day when everything usually begins.

In Memory of John Kenny, my father in law (who came with me to audition for supermarket sweep at the Midland Hotel in 1995, and once made me a poltice from soap, sugar, bread and milk which removed a small nugget of glass deep in the sole of my right foot) R.i.p John Brendan Kenny

Curry Capers in Swinton

This could end up getting me hung but hey ho…..

Meals out - now when the numbers hit more than 4 or maybe 6 at a push working the bill out is a piece of cake. Working a bill out with work colleagues is fairly easy too, generally it just gets split and rarely is anyone brave enough or sober enough to ask that killer question “who had all the brandies and espressos?” With family it can be a little trickier, take last night for instance…………

12 people, two teenagers who leave early after putting a minimum amount to pay for theirs (you know like keep that never quite pays for everything), at he start of the meal I clearly stated “how are we paying for this I don’t want a repeat of the twins 40^th at café Istanbul where we had to explain fractions and percentages (yes, really, all we would have needed was a blackboard and some chalk to make it look like a lesson) borrow a calculator and explain the difference between a tip and service charge. The staff would have been quite within their rights to recommend we go to Greggs the bakers on our next family gathering, anyway I digress.

On entering the Balti house in Walkden, I told the waitress we wanted separate bills, Me, Hubs and the two nanas would be one bill, the others were split into a five and a three. When our starters came I repeated my request, and even after the mains finally arrived (after well over an hour, more drinks was the suggestion of the waiter each time our eyes met, I so wanted to say “actually no our meal might be nice though”!) amongst friends I would have said this, but amongst family including mainly out-laws (in-laws) I kept quiet, but as a woman now progressing towards 50 I cannot give you a watertight promise I can keep it up.

When the bill finally came, yep it was one long bill, I stated that the best course of action would be to send the bill back and request three separate bills. This suggestion (it was an order on my part really disguised as a serving suggestion – don’t you just love them on the side of tins?, anyway that’s another story) No, no its find we can just go up and tell them what we have had, I was first up it went like this….

Five halfs of kingfisher

Two cokes

One pint of Carlsberg

8 poppadums with assorted chutneys

One lamb karahi

One buttered chicken

One special biriani

One Lamb Tandoori

Three pillau rices

One extra large nan bread

The waiter did try to put another three pilau rices on and said his calculater was playing up, but I am way too long in the tooth to fall for such tricks…

Total £49.00 rounded off with a very much undeserved but tip I paid £52.00.

All sorted for the Stretford branch of the Kenny family, or so I thought. Next up was the Wardley branch, who were only paying for three and that seemed to go well. Finally the Swinton branch got up and what started off a sedate affair at the top desk with the till, quickly got louder and was getting more attention than anyone should get in an eatery sorting out a bill, at a glance I saw disgruntled faces – about three. As we put our coats on, in a loud voice I heard one of our party say “are we leaving a tip” as one of the nanas started reaching for her purse I said “no, I have paid for ours and left a more than generous tip” another loud voice (you know if you have something to say, why wait until you don’t have an audience, why not just say it really loud, this must be the an old Eccles/Swinton custom – certainly not a Stockport Cheshire who I think have more etiquette) stated, “actually there was a short fall of £15.00 and we just had to pay it”. I so wanted to shout GOD BLESS US ONE AND ALL but even I knew this was neither the time nor the place, what a pity.

We then ventured in separate groups to the nearest pub, where we tried out best not to make eye contact with each other, I know various peace talks are on their way over the next few days and I may just veto them.

The local pub had a dance floor where I admit my mother and I strutted our funky stuff to Maggie May by the popular recording artist Rod Stewart but I could not bring myself to dance to I will survive, which seems an appropriate theme for the evenings shenanigans.

First I was afraid I was petrified

Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side

And I spent so many nights feeling sorry for myself but I grew strong and I learnt how to get a long and now your back………..making me ill, splitting the bill, ive had my fill, any more and blood will spill, etc......

MahoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooX