there goes all our dignity

Big financial news in the UK where Richard Branson and a bunch of friends have decided to have a go at taking over Northern Rock.

A consortium led by Sir Richard Branson's Virgin Group has put forward plans to take control of Northern Rock. Under the plans, Northern Rock would keep its stock market listing but would be rebranded as Virgin Money.

This is all very well but surely it can only be seen as bad news for us Newcastle United supporters. If our club's sponsor is taken over by Richard Branson does that mean we'd have to go to the matches in shirts with Virgin written across the chest? Like we don't get made fun of enough already?

who's laughing now?

Every-so-often I start to worry about where all my money is going. I sit down and mentally add up all my regular expenses, look at my exceptional outgoings, check with the rate of inflation - and then go and make a cup of coffee and try to forget all about it. Every time I do this I come to the same conclusion - my biggest expense by far is my car.

I drive about fifty miles a day (not taking into account the occasional diversion) yet by the time I've filled the tank (€70 - its cheaper in Donegal), paid the tax (£115), sent a cheque in for the service which showed up that my brakes needed completely replaced (£323) and paid for insurance I'm out a fortune.

Insurance is the one that gets to me. I have never claimed, I drive a sensible(ish) car, It is rarely parked on roadsides or in less desirable areas and I tend to keep it between the hedges at all times. Yet I pay extra because I live in Northern Ireland. My premiums would be almost £60 cheaper if I lived in some leafy town in the south of England. What annoys me most is when I sitt filling in the online forms - giving every last detail, double checking the vehicle details, hitting submit... only for the screen to tell you that the insurer only covers mainland UK. It's discrimination, that's what it is.

Still, it could be worse. I'm a teacher, and apparently they rate quite highly on the safe drivers list. I think maybe only Bank Managers pay a cheaper premium. Apparently the worst thing I could be is a footballer or a comedian - then I'd be paying (on average) over £300 more! I understand the footballer thing but what have comedian's ever done to deserve this kind of treatment. Are they being victimised because the Insurers are insecure about their public perception - perhaps they feel unloved and want to take it out on someone.

The moral of the story is that if, next time you are pulled over by the police, and after making a sarcastic comment are asked "What are you, some kind of comedian?" the answer should always be "No!"

how much!?!?

It’s our school formal tonight. A couple of hundred teenagers are about to descent on one of the nicer hotels in Portrush and turn it into party-central. For those Americans out there a formal is, I suppose, a little like a school prom. Final year pupils dress up in evening wear, try to slip a few miniatures into pockets, handbags and secret hemlines, and go to a hotel for a meal and a dance.

This is my third formal as a teacher. I didn’t go to my own formal as a pupil – we got tickets to see Bob Dylan in Belfast (I know, it shames me) and spent the evening in the Kings Hall. I remember thinking at the time that we were saving money despite the travel costs and the entry fee to the concert – these days I think we’d be saving more than a little money.

The pupils these days think nothing of the money they throw at it. I’ve seen couples arrive in a chauffeur driven vintage Rolls Royce followed by another couple in a stretched Jaguar Limo – from Limavady to Portrush! In my day you got your elder sister to give you a lift down in her bashed up Rover Metro.

I asked a fairly level-headed seventeen year old how much she was spending on this evening.

“Hmm” she said, “The dress was fairly cheap – it only cost £180; the shoes and handbag were expensive - £50. The jewellery is a present from my Mother – although I bought a necklace to go with my dress £75. The Limo is £40 each, the make up, eye brow shaping, manicure, pedicure, wax, eyelash tint and teeth whitening is about £120. The tan was two sessions I think that’s £30 in total. I had my hair styled, that was £48, the tickets are £25 but I’m paying for my partner as well so that’s £50. The photo is £8… I think that’s about it. How much is that?”

“£601” I think the shock had sharpened my mental arithmetic skills. “for one night.”

“Yeah, but it’s the only night like it I’ll ever have.”

“For one night.”

“But I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.”

“One single evening.”

“But I’ll still have the dress and jewellery for years to come.”

“Will you ever wear the dress again?”

“Hell no!”

“How long will the hair and stuff last?”

“Well I can’t keep it like that for school on Monday.”

“six hundred pounds.”

“and a pound”

I’m spending £35 – I feel cheap.

100 not out

This is my 100th post. Monumental I know. Some people celebrate religious festivals, some personal anniversaries, some famous moments in history... somewhere out there I like to think that there are some web geeks cracking open a Dr Pepper in honour of the centenary special needs post. I know how unlikely that is, but I can dream.
There is, as usual, a problem. This post should be special, it should be worthy of its status, it should be memorable, it should be the post to end all posts... but I can't think of anything to write. Total mental block. Creative tank running on empty. Imagination systems failure.

In the past three months I've written posts - sometimes cliched, sometimes facetious, sometimes humiliating - but I've always thought of something to say. Today I apologise, I am spent. 100 posts, 3 months, 35,346 words - and I've run out.

I was reading a blog the other day - I wish I could remember the address, but I can't, sorry - where the author had decided that his readers have had a great time reading his writing and should start paying to support him. He put a link to paypal along with the rational that he had written so many words which equated to two novels which would cost about $12. After looking at my bank balance I like this idea. Now, including character names, the screenplay of Heathers comes to 15,123 words. So, in essence I've written twice as much as Daniel Waters did in 1988. On Amazon.com the DVD (THX version - not the special box set, I'm not greedy) retails at $10.99 - which would work out at $25 if he wrote as much as me.

I take personal cheques and most major credit cards - thank you.