Like Father, Like Daughter

I'm a Daddy's girl, at heart. I love my Mumma dearly and she's ace, but Dad is, after all, the first man in my life and therefore, the most special.

Tomorrow, I'm going to have a day all to myself with him, because he's taking me to see my very first Opera! We are going to the Royal Opera House to see Boris Godunov performed by the Bolshoi Opera. Ooooh, how exciting.

Also, because he's a verbose man with a lot of opinions and he can't help sending them to those he feels may benefit, my Dad has just made his first leap into being published on the internet - please go here to read his report on Mr Landis on the British Cycling homepage. If that doesn't load - which it didn't at first, on my pc - here's what he wrote:

"I will be mortified if the B sample provided by Floyd Landis turns out to be positive. I have watched this epic sport for years, loved every minute and admired every rider. Spectating competitive cycling has given me some of the best moments of my life and I take my hat off to all these competitors but still the disgrace of drugs haunts this sport with all the recent events you know about."

"I'm in my 62nd year now and after being involved in an RTA in December last year I spent 9 months recovering from broken pelvis and other injuries. I rode my son's turbo standing up to aid recovery because I couldn't sit for months and got so fit I decided to begin racing this year. It's been Surrey League events so far: 3 races entered with 3 more to come before end of the season. I've finished every one so far - epic, gut-wrenching, punishing but inspiritational stuff, all of it."

"This sport belongs to all the riders, watchers, supporters, members and we are all utterly devastated when the drug allegations appear. So, I am calling for an un-equivocal lifetime ban for any rider caught using drugs, abusing our trust, demeaning and trivialising all the other decent sports people who claw their way out of the bunch. No ambiguity, an un-equivocal lifetime ban - in other words never to be allowed to race professionally again, to end this cheating once and for all."

He'd make an excellent blogger, I'll warrant.

Right, I'm now off to forage for foodstuffs as there's nowt to eat in my house except EGGS and then I'm going to settle down and watch as much Dr Who on DVD as I can until I fall asleep.

BLISS

I am cursed mother-to-be?

Ok. So, besides being the Slytherin Head Girl, general ass-kicker, spontaneous kidnapper, pyromaniac, attention-seeker, lover, colleague, and fierce friend, I'm also a sister to a fabulous brother and a proud daughter to two amazing parents. I mention this, because it is relevant to what I am about to post.

During the normal course of my day at work, I answer queries and questions from a wide range of people from across the country. Some of them are delightful, others are cunts, some go away from speaking to me happy and everything's shiny for the rest of the day; others, sadly, walk away fuming and foaming at the mouth because I will not let them win, because when I am right, I am RIGHT, goddamit.

Today's blog subject relates very much to the nastier side of my customers.

I was mid-call to a young, single Mum on income support who was clearly very distressed. I was handling her in the only way one can - let them shout themselves out, then talk calmly and reassuringly, gain their confidence and resolve the issue. Except that she wouldn't stop shouting. She kept on shouting. More shouting. It was going on 15 minutes and I'd only just managed to get through the identification process with her, she just wouldn't let me get a word in edgeways, sideways or any other ways.

The irony of this tale is that, if she had paused for breath and LET ME SPEAK, I could have solved her issue in about 30 seconds, but would she let me talk? NO.

And then she said something that was utterly unexpected. She said "How old are you anyway? You sound about 12 years old!"

Finally, a chance to speak! I replied, not in the slightest bit put off by her tone: "Well, clearly I am not, but that isn't the issue here is it Miss..." and off she went again, coming back with:

"Well, do you 'ave any kids? Do you?!!?"

Ahem. "No, Miss Customer, I'm 26 years old, and I don't have any children yet, but I'm not the issue here..."
Clearly not interested in whether I was relevant or not, she screamed (yes, screamed):
"If you had kids, you'd understand! You don't deserve to have children, and I hope you're never able to have any, you b*tch!!"
And then she hung up on me.

I was stunned. No-one has ever spoken to me like that in my life. Ever. Don’t get me wrong, I've been called some pretty horrible things during the course of my life, working or otherwise, and had some incredibly difficult confrontations/conversations, but no-one has ever been quite that unnecessarily personal and horrid to me.

So I burst into tears.

My Team (We are the Incredibles, because we are ace) are a bunch of lovely people and within 30 seconds one of them, M, had moved me gently away from my desk, given me a motherly cuddle, put me in a meeting room, fetched me espresso, water and tissues, alerted my team leader, who logged me out of my phone and then sent me outside to have a ciggy, under express instructions to not come back for 15minutes while things were sorted out. I got outside to find L (who is fierce and outspoken and doesn't normally speak to me) waiting with another cuddle and a cigarette and 2 minutes later, one of my Gay Boys J came bundling outside because he couldn't bear to see me cry and wanted to make sure I was OK. It was all rather overwhelming! Lovely, but overwhelming.

What had struck me, in that nano-second between the bang of the phone going down in my ear, and the tears, in a sort of strange rush was that I have a wonderful family, and what if, what if I couldn't give my parents a grand-child? Wouldn't that be a terrible shame? What if I never get the chance to be a great Mum like my own Mum?
It's odd. I'm 26 and I really don't want to have babies yet, but that was the first time ever in my life when I almost felt, intrinsically that I will know motherhood one day, and that no-one has the right to take that away from me. Those of you who've been reading my blog for a while will understand just how pertinent this event is to me.

In other, non-trauma related news, it’s sunny again in Brighton, so I’m off to the garden to have a BBQ with my housemates.