MonkeySeeMonkeyDoo

Where It Stands

2010-02-28T11:59:00.001Z

Friday 19th February

It’s the end of the line, is what. I’ve put off writing and posting this for weeks ‘cause to me that makes it so final, but the point of no return really came a while ago so there’s no use putting it off any more. Tickets are booked, shipping company has my deposit and I’ve starting sorting through all my stuff and giving/throwing a great deal of it away. I’m officially moving back to the States.

I still find it a bit galling to say that; that I HAVE to say it. Despite the attempts of others to dissuade me, it still feels like failure on my part that I’ve not been able to make things work. As I’ve said before, it simply never occurred to me that my grand master plan of moving over here, getting a job and building a new life wouldn’t pan out. Because of a stupid visa, of all things! Well, that and the fact that I’m not really qualified to do much of anything, it seems. But I do think one reason why I’ve not been considered for many jobs is because of the whole sponsorship thing. But I’ve been jobless for 3 months now, and the short of it is that I can’t afford to keep looking for work. So, I’m packing up and moving back to Colorado. Where, at 34 years of age, I must move in with my parents for an as-yet undetermined length of time. Tell me again I’m not a failure?

And this is it! Once I leave, there’s no coming back for anything other than visits. I highly doubt I’d ever find a job that would post me back here. The only reason I made it over in the first place was by squeaking in on my tourist visas, and I’m sure as hell not doing that again! There’s no point, considering that 2 MSc degrees don’t seem to have made me any more of a desirable employee than I was before. I didn’t exactly use my head when choosing them; in retrospect I would have been much better served if I’d done one in conservation. There are loads of those sorts of jobs over here, but they all require formal qualifications.

But there’s no use whining or using hindsight. It is what it is and I have to find a way to make the most of it. I have no earthly idea HOW at this point, considering that my father has several times pointed out how horrible the US job market is with 10% unemployment. But I HAVE to find something. There’s not much to make a person feel more worthless than being jobless and totally dependent on the goodwill/charity of others, especially when there’s no excuse for being unable to find work. Over the course of my life my parents have probably shelled out up to $200,000 on my education, and I’ve topped it up with another $50,000 or so. How on earth could a quarter of a million dollar brain NOT pay off? There’s NO reason I shouldn’t be self-sufficient.

If only wishing made things right! I know I have to find a way to roll with the punches, but it seems that’s all I’ve been doing for the past several years. I’m feeling quite abused and battered at the moment. Even cushioned by my parents, I’m getting dizzy. The best I can do is find some semblance of stability doing something I can tolerate for a few years and just see where it goes from there. I can handle doing crap work for a while if it ends up getting me somewhere.

But, at the risk of hurting people’s feelings, I don’t think anyone will ever really understand how much I DON’T want to move home. How I wish I could stay!

Random Adventurement

2010-02-23T14:19:00.002Z

20/02/2010 1650

I’m sitting at the Gloucester rail station and only just realized that it’s over a 20 minute wait until my train arrives! How better to fill the time than to address my poor neglected blog? This is the 1st adventure I’ve had in ages that was even remotely worth writing about.

Why Gloucester? In general, I’ve been meaning to come for ages, but for the Friday farmer’s market which I’d heard from several people to be very good. I even had a date picked out in December – in order to coincide with the Christmas market – but that day the weather was so abysmal I could barely see my hand in front of my face. Hardly good for sightseeing!

In particular, I chose today for 2 reasons. 1st, my flatmate is in all weekend and I couldn’t bear the thought of being shut in with her the whole time. Also, it’s a nice-ish day and not that I’ve taken on a whopping three weeks work at EH I’m acutely conscious of how little time I have left for any exploring. There are still so many people and places I want to see, and now I have next to no chance to do so. Thus, best hit what I can while I can.

I didn’t have a map of the city when I set out – for some reason my battered English guidebook doesn’t even mention the place, which is a bit odd considering there’s quite a bit of history there. Still, after a bit of wandering I hit the tourist information center and they hooked me up. I would have liked a walking tour or something, but those don’t run in winter. ??? Still, it turns out Gloucester is one of those compact places where most of the stuff you want to see is never more than 10-15 minutes walk away.

I started off at the Cathedral, which is nice as they go. Nowhere near as impressive as Durham or Salisbury, but a fun stroll. All most people know about it these days is that bits of the Harry Potter movies are filmed there, and there’s not a whole lot of information provided that really goes into the history of the place. Not that’s free, anyway. Most people should know by now that I’m too cheap to pay for stuff like that. But I still had fun wandering around, taking random pictures that in 10 years I won’t remember WHY. :P At one point I say a tiny white-haired lady escorting a tall guy – she led him up to the crypts, unlocked the door and let him down. I longed to follow, but just watched as she shut the gate. She looked at me as she was re-locking it and gave a little grin – like she knew what I wanted – and then turned and disappeared into the gloom. That lucky bastard!

After the Cathedral, following the advice of the tourist lady, I hit the Folk Museum. It’s basically 2.5 buildings devoted to the tools of craft and industry common to Gloucestershire over the last few hundred years or so. That may not sound so interesting but it really was quite good and very well presented/organized. I spent several fun hours poking around learning about pin-making, farming, eel fishing, how to make butter and cheese, and all sorts of other things. It was free admission, but so good that I didn’t mind slipping change into the donation box.

Finally I made my way down to the Historic Docks area of town. It was late-ish afternoon at this point, so I wasn’t sure I’d make it to both the museums I was interested in before closing time. Not that I knew where they were! In the end, the National Waterways Museum won out over Soldiers of Gloucestershire only because I found it first! Turns out, it was a good choice ‘cause I got there only about 35 minutes before the “official” closing time, so the guy at the counter let me in for free and told me what the hot spots were. How nice is that!?

I actually had almost an hour to explore, as they weren’t all that interested in kicking anyone out. Turns out it was a museum dedicated to the history of England’s canal system and the types of narrow boats used for trade and recreation. Again, more interesting than what I describe.

So, that’s my day! It’s getting dark as the train heads back to Swindon – the sunset out the window is pretty great! Methinks I will hit the Chinese restaurant on the way back and get some take-out for dinner. I haven’t done that in….years! Then I shall hole up in my room munching, packing, watching a movie and/or playing on my ‘puter. I may even get around to typing this entry up!

Day 1 of avoiding Elaine completed! :P Finding something to do out tomorrow could be trickier what with limited Sunday transport and all, but I’m scrappy. I’m sure I can come up with something! 8-)

Throwing Down the Gauntlet

2010-01-26T14:36:00.000Z

Yes! She finally returns! I think it’s ‘cause I finally have something to say again. I mean, there’s loads to say, but not a whole lot these days that’s not whiny. I’m just trying to roll along and see where I end up – hoping it’s good – and I’ll comment on the journey once I get there.

But I DO still plan on posting my end-of-year review. It’s partially written somewhere in the depths of Darwin. I just have to dig it up and eventually finish it. But, today, I’m actually moved to write something else and I am, if anything, pretty much ruled by my motivations.

Facebook: To “friend” or not to friend?

OK. As ever, first the setup. Despite the appeal of being able to keep in touch with far more people than I normally do, Facebook most certainly has some drawbacks. Especially for someone who’s recently started playing some of the game applications. Until lately I refused to accept as a friend anyone I didn’t personally know. But now other game players occasionally try to “friend” me as a way of increasing their armies or neighbor count. The only reason I’ve relented and started accepting some of these requests is because I’m able to so restrict their access to my profile information that they can’t see any photos or information about my friends and family.

I don’t communicate with these people outside of the games, with the exception of one lady – but that’s only because when we “friended”, I thought she was good friends with someone else on my contact list. Turns out not, but now she feels free to comment on anything she sees on my page as well as send me little updates on her thoughts and activities. Turns out also, she’s VERY religiously and politically conservative, and we all know how well Jenny gets on with them types of peeps!

In truth I have, up to now, help my peace remarkably well. I’ve not risen to the bait when she’s posted anything about Christian values, the non-existence of evolution, the war in Iraq and other such topics bound to bring out the best in me. :P If I had more time or inclination I’d go into greater detail, but please take it on faith that I’ve been very VERY good! But this morning I awoke to one of her posts that just drove me over the edge.

“shame on america: the only country where we have homeless without shelter, children going to bed without eating, elderly going without needed meds, mentally ill without treatment - yet we have a benefit for the people of haiti on 12 tv stations.”

The post ended with something like “99% of you won’t have the guts to copy and paste this into your status”, which is generally how she ends her little observational pearls of wisdom.

I almost don’t even know where to start with such ignorance. America (which she is so proud of she doesn’t even bother to capitalize) is the ONLY country with homeless? With hungry children or untreated sick people? Excuse me? And shame on Americans for holding and responding to a mass appeal for charity to help earthquake victims? For such a champion of Christian values – doing God’s work and honoring the spirit of Jesus – I ask, since when does charity for the helpless stop at the border? Yes, there are people in need in America, so there are everywhere else in the world. The humanitarian aid found in the almighty dollar can only stretch so far!

The problem with trying to respond to a post from this lady is that I know she won’t listen or care to what I have to say. She has, in the past, slammed the door on people who try to debate with her. She just wants to say what she wants and not face any sort of consequence. But even in the interests of keeping the peace, I felt I had to say something, so my status post of the day reads: “Jenny Haddon has MORE than enough guts to NOT re-post other people's offensive status quotes.”

So! We’ll see where that gets me. Will I open up some great dialogue? I think not. Has this even been a very eloquently worded defense of my own thoughts/opinions? Hardly. But, as I was pointing out to someone this morning, I’m not actually out to upset this lady. I object to the way she throws things out there but isn’t interested in the opinions of anyone who even remotely disagrees with her. I’m trying to make the somewhat futile point that I DO disagree with her and I deserve to have my objection acknowledged. If she has a problem with that, then she can bloody well stop sending me all her posts!

No Cleaning for YOU!

2010-01-02T18:51:00.003Z

I'll type up more of the details later, and finally get around to doing my Year In Review post, but I just wanted to quickly share something now about my current adventures in Chicago before I forget it....

Marty just confessed to me that the main reason he doesn't want my help in doing his Saturday morning cleaning chores is because he only does it in his boxers and so I can't be around.

I understand the practicality - 'cause when cleaning you DO end up getting dirty and sweaty and covered in cleaning products. But still!

I love this guy! :P

Serendipity

2009-11-16T16:30:00.003Z

So, a friend of a friend, whom I've met for all of about 3 hours, was this weekend indulging in his hobby of watching obscure foreign debates over the internet. Towards the end of one, he said to himself "Hey! I know that girl!". He told his friend today, who watched it himself and then e-mailed me. Sure enough, it's the IQ2 debate on "Democracy: Is It Right For Everyone" that I went to at the Opera House in Sydney!

I missed seeing it air on BBC World by one day, and have looked for it since, but only ever found a 10-ish minute clip on YouTube. This link is the debate in its entirety. Jenny makes her appearance at 1:26:26. I was so anxious that the moderator not cut me off, I was talking at light speed. I was also doing some odd windmill-y thing with my hand! I'm not sure that I made much of a point - none at all, actually, since they never really addressed my question. But to be fair, they were running out of time.

Anyway. If you have an hour and a three-quarters to spare, it really was an interesting debate, no matter which side of the issue you come down on. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Making an ass of myself on international TV was just icing on the cake! :P

Venting My Spleen

2009-11-09T22:42:00.001Z

10:30am

I’m taking one of my many English tea breaks to write this up real quick and I’ll type it up later when I get home. Maybe by then I will have calmed down a bit. Despite my currently calm exterior, something’s just happened to send me completely over the edge – I’m absolutely seething at the moment.

I just got an e-mail from the HR department with a questionnaire to fill out and a little note attached saying that they forgot to stick it to my “leaving e-mail”. Let’s forget for a moment that the HR peeps here are totally useless and that for them to forget to attach something to my leaving e-mail they must first SEND ME the bloody leaving e-mail! But I’m livid because I still have 3 weeks left and I’m being treated as if my neck is already on the chopping block.

I mean, I know there’s no hope for reprieve. My contract will NOT be extended and every other job-seeking avenue I’ve gone down hasn’t panned out. So, no matter what I AM out of here at the end of the month. But, as I said, that’s 3 weeks away! I’m not useless – I can still contribute!

It’s a terrifying feeling to be so out-of-control of my fate; I’m having a horrible time dealing with it. So maybe I’m overreacting ‘cause I’m over emotional or in some sort of sustained hormonal state of hysteria, but I find myself uncharacteristically angry and wanting to lash out.

I’m tired of people trying to tell me that everything will be ok and things happen for a reason. I want to be hopeful and believe that, but it still feels like I’m being placated. Even if the people saying it mean well I get angry because everything’s fine for THEM. THEY aren’t struggling to find a way to survive. That, or it’s people from back home because they just want me back in the country for some reason – even if once I’m there it’s not likely I’ll see them any more than I do now – and I find that selfish when what I want is to stay HERE. I want to find a job I like and can do well in, and build a life for myself.

But I can’t HAVE what I want, can I? It doesn’t seem as if I’m asking for much, but even though I’m trying and trying it’s just not working out. I have no clue what I’m doing or how to plan even a few hours ahead. The uncertainty and insecurity is really starting to get to me. I’m nowhere near as bad as I was last year with the panic attacks and all, but I find myself constantly doubting myself and wishing, SO wishing, that something would magically happen to make it all go away, to make things better because I’m just so tired of fighting and LOSING all the time.

I’m tired of having to constantly keep myself in check because I’m so angry all the time and I don’t want to take it out on people who don’t deserve it. At the same time, there are several who DO deserve it and I can’t lash out at them, but that’s a different story. Maybe this is my way of pulling away from what few friends I’ve made over here – knowing that I likely can’t stay and keep them. But I’m finding myself with fewer and fewer people to turn to when I need them the most. I’ve not had a proper hug in weeks. Jenny needs hugs. They’re like food for me.

Ugh! All this because of a stupid e-mail! Well, in truth, that and a bunch of people this past week who’ve blown me off for various activities and not even bothered to call or text me, but whatever. As always, the mantra these days is “Just get over it”. Despite how good I am at it, I don’t particularly enjoy being whiny. I tell you what, though! I’m SO not filling out that damn questionnaire so I can tell the HR peeps how happy and shiny my time here has been! At least, not until my very last day. Maybe by then they’ll have remembered to my leaving e-mail. Maybe by then I’ll have stopped raging at the world for things that are out of my control and I can fill it out calmly and clearly. Maybe….

More Baby Abbie Memories....

2009-11-03T16:59:00.003Z

When she gets older, she's gonna wish I didn't have these!

The Haddon tradition of celebrating 1st (formerly 6-month) birthdays by allowing the child to bury themselves in cake. :P

6 Years Ago, Already!!

2009-11-03T16:55:00.001Z

I can't believe how fast the time has gone!

Happy Birthday, Abbykins!

8-)

Hooves Are Yummy, Dammit!!

2009-10-15T16:37:00.002+01:00

As mentioned before, I brought a *small* quantity of candy back from Australia – mostly Minties, FanTales and Violent Crumbles. In an effort not to hog everything and re-inflate myself to the size of Montana (and someone commented today that it really showed I’d lost weight. Yay!), I’ve been sharing said candy around. Spreading the love, so to speak.

The problem is, some of my chums here are fairly hard-core vegetarians. While I certainly don’t see the appeal, I try to be respectful and do make an effort to cater to those who practice. I’ve been known to make vegan or gluten-free birthday treats, and have even gone so far (though failed) to track down vegetarian marshmallows. And there-in lies the problem. So many processed foods these days have gelatine in them, and that includes candy. Here I’ve been extolling the virtues of my favourite Australian goodies and sharing them around, but I only just read the ingredients list on each of the bags and they all have gelatine in them!

I did a quick run around the office to reclaim anything that had not already been scoffed, and to apologize to anyone who’d already chowed down. Most don’t seem to mind ‘cause they know it was an honest mistake (and if they really cared that much they could have read the ingredients themselves) but I still feel a bit guilty for unintentionally duping them into eating animal. I’ve never really appreciated it myself when someone tries to slip me food they know I don’t like/want (even less when someone once tried to slip me Ecstasy ‘cause they thought it would be funny to see how I reacted). I just don’t like the look they tend to get on their faces when I ‘fess up. :-(

In the Meantime....

2009-10-14T05:48:00.000+01:00

In the many days it has taken me to publish all the posts and photos from the trip, there's been other stuff going on.

Getting back into a regular sleep schedule has been fun! I did OK the first night, just because I was able to stay up until about 11pm and then slept until 7am (which is late for me!). But the next few nights, even if I went to bed at midnight I was still wide awake around 3am. I'm desperately trying to break the habit - it's one thing to be a naturally early riser, but that's just ridiculous!

I'm slowly getting adjusted to living in the new place. It's not terribly comfortable and will never really feel like a home, but it'll do as a short-term stopover until I know what's going on job-wise. I've had an interview in London for yet another 6-month contract - this one caseworker-type stuff. It would at least tide me over until near the end of my contract and let me look around for something more permanent. If I get it I'd have to move closer to London, but now that I'm already all unsettled I find I don't mind so much (aside from the expense).

Getting back into work, too, though it's quite dull still. I'm getting sick of having to correct stupid mistakes made by people years ago - mistakes made either because they didn't know how to use the system, didn't care, or there was no cohesive standard for setting up location records. My first full day back was Monday, and it seemed like every case I encountered was a huge problem one. It was most frustrating, and almost a comfort to think I only have 6 weeks left. But EEEEK! Only 6 weeks left, and if I can't find a job then WTF am I gonna do?!

I was hoping to shed quite a few pounds in Australia what with all the walking and whole not-being-able-to-afford-food thing, but there wasn't much noticeable difference. A wee bit came off, though, so I'm not totally discouraged. How often do people managed to actually LOSE weight on a vacation where they've not been shackled to a toilet? :P Am creeping down and am now the lowest I've been in about 20 years. Even at this snail's pace, it may only be another few months to go until I can have my "I Lost A Pete" party (a chum of mine is a bit weedy and figures he weighs 10.5 stone, which is 147 lbs. Once I'm down that much, we said we're gonna have a wee celebration. :P ) I don't know if I can manage it before Christmas, but we shall see. I did manage to get used to walking around and being more active while on vacation, but options are more limited now back in Swindon, and now that my membership has run out I can''t really get into a gym routine again until I know where I'm gonna be living.

While I could be totally wrong or jumping the gun, it appears that Formula 1 boy has totally flown the coop. Things were a bit strange before I left, and I sensed he was backing off a bit after almost a month of intense texting and spending almost an hour on the phone every night before bed. I put it down to his having a really bad week and being totally stressed, but then I didn't hear a peep from him the whole time I was away and barely a thing since I got back. There's been no indication of interest in even resuming a fraction of our former level of contact. I highly doubt this will have any satisfactory sort of resolution. Shame. I thought he was nice, and definitely enjoyed being pursued a bit. But oh well. He lasted longer than anyone else (and there have been OH so many others!). Usually they've disappeared after the first encounter. This one made it to date/meet-up number 2! Either he's got some willpower or I'm losing my magic touch. :P

Lauren is back in the UK!! My goofy adventure buddy! Granted, we dream and scheme more than we can ever afford to execute, but that's nearly as much fun. I'm totally excited about having her (relatively) close for the next few month and really excited about the prospect of hanging out on the occasional weekend. Watch this space for possible future craziness! Heh heh heh!!!

Snippets

2009-10-13T05:35:00.004+01:00

** - Apart from toiletries I managed to use absolutely everything I packed at least once on my trip - even down to my new swim suit, as I went for a dip in the pool at the Port Stephens hostel. Things like the swim shorts (which I actually had the courage to go without!) and the sleeping bag may not have been entirely necessary, but I did at least use them. What with only taking 4 days worth of clothes, I managed to keep the weight of my bag down to 10 kilos on the way out, thought that was near trebled on the flight back what with all the prezzies, bottles and candy I brought back for peeps! The ridiculous thing was, though, that even though she admitted that it was a fairly empty flight, the lady who checked me in wouldn't let me check my smaller backpack in as baggage too! Most of the candy was in there, and surprisingly heavy. But rather than free up space in the overhead bins (and save me no end of inconvenience!) I had to reshuffle everything around to try and cram as much heavy stuff into the big backpack as I could and then still like a giant overstuffed bag around with me. Stupid!

** - Speaking of bags. Once back in Swindon I was walking to the apartment from the train station, now only a 5-minute journey, and suddenly really felt the weight of all my bags. I tried to tough myself up by saying to myself "It's only 30 lbs worth of stuff. ANYONE can carry 30lbs!". After chanting this mantra for a while I had to stop, though, 'cause I suddenly realized that it wasn't 30lbs but 30 KILOS! No wonder I was sore! :P

** - Speaking AGAIN of bags, I'm a bit disappointed that I wasn't able to afford or bring back many quality souvenirs. Not just for myself but anyone. I know I can't get a prezzie for everyone I know, but it's always nice to be thought of and receive a little token. I just couldn't do it. For myself, I mostly just bought some Violet Crumbles and postcards - I mean, I get all the memories and such. I REALLY wanted to get a nice opal necklace or something, but was very distrustful of all the tourist shops and their massive discounts. Their stuff might have looked nice under the lights, but I was very skeptical of the quality/veracity of the products. At one point I did go into an actual jewelry shop - telling the lady up front that I likely couldn't afford anything in there but I just wanted to educate myself as to what to look for in a really good piece. She was very nice and helpful, and looked almost pityingly at me when I found a artfully misshapen pendant - absolutely beautiful and colorful. I asked her about how much something like that would cost and she quietly replied "That's about $5,000, dear". Needless to say I just put my hands behind my back and quickly vacated the shop! :P

There are loads more weenie bits to recount, but I just can't think of them at the moment, so I think I'll just leave it for now, and if anything else occurs to me I'll make a rare exception and amend this particular post.

Desperately Seeking A Shower

2009-10-11T17:39:00.004+01:00

Friday 09/10 01:00 (Thailand)
Thursday 08/10 19:00 (London)

Have just left Bangkok. It kinda sucks that my first trip to Thailand consisted of a 90-minute layover at the airport. Around midnight, no less! But, oh well.

I had an interesting encounter getting off the plane, though. I passed a guy on the walkway and just happened to notice that he was holding up a sign with my name and seat number on it. He didn't have much English, but once I'd shown him my ticket and proved who I was, it turned out that he was there with a wheelchair for me! Apparently my fib to the airline about needing an aisle seat due to knee problems has caught up with me! :P

Friday 02:27 (London)

Long flights make people cranky! I just went for a stretch in the back of the plane and bumped into an Irish med student I was chatting to before boarding in Bangkok. There's a lot of ambient noise on a plane, so it's not easy to hear people and sometimes you need to speak up, but some lady just told me off for talking too loud. WTF!!!

08:57

Reading-bound, finally! It took an hour to get through customs and baggage, and then ANOTHER hour just to get from Terminal 4 to the Central Bus Station! Insane! Had a very surreal experience at immigration, though. I was in line talking with the Aussie guy I sat next to the whole flight - good bloke - when all of a sudden I heard my name. I turned around, and in the line for UK residents there was a girl I knew at EH before she left earlier in the year to go around the world adventuring! She got on the plane in Bangkok but we never saw each other! How strange!! Her line moved WAY faster than mine, so she'd already picked up her bags and gone off by the time I got through, but what a laugh!

Waiting at the Airport

2009-10-10T17:37:00.002+01:00

Thursday 08/10 16:20

DON'T MAKE ME LEAVE!!!!!!

Final Hours

2009-10-09T06:36:00.013+01:00

Thursday 08/10 12:55

My shuttle to the airport leaves in about 90 minutes. I'm sitting in a chocolate bar on George Street (Aussies DO love their chocolate! And ice cream) getting ready to enjoy a fancy hot drink and then I will be trekking back to the hostel for the last time.

I had two more items on my activities wish list by the time I got back to Sydney yesterday - things I decided I wanted to do pretty much as soon as I booked my flights last year. 1) Hold a koala and 2) try to make my way out to the houses we used to live in on the North Shore. Another item was already booked for 6:30pm - I wanted to have a nice dinner and watch the twilight over Sydney Harbour from the revolving restaurant at Centrepoint.

Since I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get to the 'burbs and back, I opted for the Koalas. There are better places to see them farther out of town, but they take some planning to get to so I went down the easy road and went to Sydney Wildlife World at Darling Harbour. Overpriced as it was, this turned out to be a good choice. I didn't have to wait too long and it wasn't all that crowded. While I was hanging around there was plenty of opportunity to watch the baby Koalas playing. Even though there is only one designated petting Koala every day (it's actually illegal to hold on in NSA, apparently *sigh*) the handler demonstrating the babies let a few select people have a pat and, seeing how excited I was, he let me be one of them. 8-)

When picture time came around I handed my camera off to a fellow tourist, so I managed to sneak more than just the overpriced photo they give you. My Koala's name was Mo. He'd been hanging around out of reach for most of photo time, but I was patient (for once!) and held back until he climbed back down - even if he was then more interested in eating than posing for the camera.

I then headed down to the kangaroo enclosure, where they just happened to be doing another demonstration with juvenile males. Again, there were people lined up for petting/photo opportunities, but it was just for little kids. Luckily for me, however, one of the kiddie wranglers was the same girl who'd done my Koala photo, so when she saw me hanging back to take a photo she asked me if I wanted her to get one of me petting a kangaroo while he fed. Sneaky, but most cool and very kind of her!

After that it was time for me to go get washed and gussied up for dinner. Or, as fancy as one can get when you've been living out of a backpack for 2 weeks with only 3 other changes of clothes. But I was clean and presentable, and much better looking that some of the yobs I saw in line around me! I went for the cheaper of the two restaurants, which just did a big buffet dinner. In retrospect I would reconsider that, though, 'cause the food really sucked. Granted, I got a huge discount with my YHA membership (even though the offer expired last month, but I think the guy at the reservation counter appreciated that I actually talked to him instead of just passing by), but it still wasn't worth the money.

The view helped make up for it, though. I literally just parked my butt and stared out the window as night fell and the city started to twinkle. It was great! I think the waiters thought it was a little odd that I wasn't eating all that much (buffet dinners are wasted on me, anyway) and that I didn't leave when I was finished, but they weren't busy and I felt justified in making the most of my "seat rental". I didn't bother with photos 'cause I knew they wouldn't really turn out well, but I'll sure remember that view.

This morning I checked out bright and early, stored my bags and set off into the wild blue yonder known as the North Shore. Once again I was victim to almost implausible Aussie niceness as I relied on miscellaneous bus and train peeps to get me to variious destinations. The bus drivers in particular were extremely chatty and helpful, but so too was the random kid who pretty much escorted me from Gordon train station to my stop near Alvona Avenue.

Both houses look almost the same as I remember (as much as I can remember, anyhow). The St. Ives house is a bit run down and ratty looking now. The lemon tree is gone, back yard is changed and a lot of the flower bushes have been ripped up. I swear the terraced garden light is the same, though! But I recognized it from way down the road, as well as the surrounded houses, the bush reserve across the street and even the path I used to take through some trees to get to my old bus stop - though that now has changed.

The Westleigh house was a bit harder to place since I was so much younger when we lived there, but I did remember it. Even the red brick shopping center around the corner is still there! I remember being sent there to pick up grocery odds and ends when I was little, and it's hardly changed at all (from the outside, anyway).

So it was something of a rush to haunt the old homesteads after so long, though I doubt I'll ever feel the compulsion to do so again. There's always that risk of disappointment that things won't be quite the same as you've imagined for so long. Sometimes I think it's better to just cherish the illusion. It was good fun, though, and I do wonder what it'll be like in another 23 years' time!

Got to head off to the airport now. Where have these 2 weeks gone! I'll be back at work tomorrow and suddenly feel like I haven't accomplished ANYTHING, yet I know I've had the trip of a lifetime and done so much AMAZING stuff! I mean, WOW! 8-)

The Fast and The Furious

2009-10-08T17:33:00.015+01:00

Wednesday 07/10 11:17

I can't believe I leave tomorrow. I feel like I've been here for ages, and not nearly long enough. There are still things on my "list" that I want to do, and I'm resigning myself to the fact that it will likely be unfinished. Maybe that's how it should be, though...

The Port Stephens hostel may have been cozy, but it sure wasn't warm! Good grief! I'm talking huddled-in-the-fetal-position-with-the-blanket-over-my-head freezing! I just can't sleep when I'm that cold.

It poured absolute buckets Monday night, but the morning was bright and sunny. A perfect day for all my adventuring! Mr. Man came and picked me up for parasailing, which was fan-freakin'-tastic! Turns out, I was the only person booked for the morning but the crew of 4 took me out anyway. It wasn't at all scary, just a great that was over way too soon. I'd forgotten a towel so the owner said he'd keep me dry, but that didn't stop him from playing a few tricks on me. At one point I was about 15 yards away from the boat but only 1 foot above the water and certain I was about to drop in. But then the boat sped up again and I was soaring back up. SO much fun! I have my camera to one of the crew guys, and he so nicely took loads of photos for me while I was up there.

Next was dolphin watching, which I've done before but it was part of the package and it never really gets old. Sadly, the dolphins weren't really much in the mood to come out and play. We saw a few of them way off in the distance, but really it was just a nice 90-minute boat trip. Plus the Captain let me drive the boat for a bit! There was supposed to be a lunch scheduled after the trip, but I found out I was the only person booked for it! I felt a bit pathetic sitting by myself in front of a big buffet, but luckily some big tour groups showed up and eased the pressure off a bit.

Last, but not least, was the sandsurfing. I had to make my own way from Nelson's Bay to Anna Bay (about 30 minutes by bus) and then walk for about 15 minutes, but I finally made it. One of the guys came over in a big 4x4 to drive us all out to the dunes. When he saw my booking slip he actually apologized for not having driven in to Anna Bay to pick me up there!

Sandsurfing was great, though going down the dune was a lot more fun than climbing back up for another go! :P Still, it was pretty easy to get the hang of, and my fear of heights didn't come into play at all. The only reason I stopped was because I had to be mindful of the bus back to the hostel. To make things easier, one of the tour guys drove me straight back to the bus stop.

Post Stephens really does seem to be a bit like an Australian Mayberry. It is touristy but, by and large, it's an Aussie tourist spot, which seems to make all the difference. The only non-Australians I've run into were my fellow guests at the hostel. I find that quite refreshing. But the town is small and folks-y enough that everyone knows each other and are forever stopping to wave at each other or honk to say hi. It's quite something to witness.

I've not had a good hunk of Australian lamb since I got here - the only proper meals I've had were part of a tour. So I made sure to stop at the shops on the way back to the hostel so I could pick up a nice leg chop. My group reconvened over dinner and use of the BBQ. There were no Tim Tams, but instead a really huge campfire and toasted marshmallows late into the night. This place is so cool!

Now I'm on the bus and almost back to Sydney. The hostel lady made a call and arranged for me to be picked up and driven to the depot this morning, so that was nice and easy. Now I've got just over 24 hours until I have to head out to the airport and my flight back to the UK. I really have almost no idea how to make the most of that time!

Slam Dunk!

2009-10-07T16:46:00.009+01:00

Monday 05/10 22:47

My left shoe is STILL damp - inside and out!! Ugh! Up early again. New roomie came in at 3am, turned on all the lights and started ranting about how she's had to walk all the way in from town. I wanted to make a snarky comment about how hard it is to check bus timetables (and most buses here DO run all night) but I was too tired to make my mouth work. Just as well, really.

Some nice guy gave me breakfast - he sidled up and fobbed off a couple boiled eggs, which was very nice of him. But otherwise I made pretty quick work of just getting out of the Poo House. I decided to store my big backpack and just take the smaller one up to Port Stephens, so here's hoping it won't be too cold at night as I've left the sleeping bag behind. Fingers crossed!

I spent the morning at the Powerhouse museum, which was enjoyable. They have some really neat stuff, though little in terms of cohesion. My favorite part was the display on architecture and design over the last 300 years. Sometimes I wish I was creative enough to put together some of the stuff I saw, but oh well. At least I got the opportunity to look and marvel. Today's a public holiday, so the place was swarming with kids and parents. I found myself amazed, too, at the array of names foisted upon the poor defenseless youth of Australia. As I wandered the halls I heard repeated cries of "Roger", "Lachlan", "Rufus", "Hooper" and the old American stand-by, "Mykaela". Not for the first time I wonder if there will be a reaction in a few generations' time and we will be back to bog-standard Jane's, Mary's and John's. :P

One horrible thing about living these days - and I'm not sure if it has anything to do with nationality or what - is that you become unused to the kindness of strangers. Or at least being around people for whom making an extra effort is matter-of-course. Somewhere along the way to Port Stephens I crossed an invisible line and entered such a world.

I told the bus driver that I needed to get to the YHA, and rather than drop me off at the depot from where I was expected to make my own way, he told me to stay on and he'd drop me there once everyone else was sorted. Along the way he gave me a sort of personalized tour of the area and told me funny stories about some of the locals. The ride took a lot longer that it should have, but we had a good chat and he gave me the local bus timetable and helped me sort out my transport for tomorrow. In the end, he dropped me off almost right at the front door of the hostel.

This particular hostel, so far, seems to be the nicest I've stayed in. It's not the most modern or conveniently located, but it's friendly and comfortable. Five 5-bed bungalows are scattered on the edge of a national park. I was informed that my hut has a resident possum in the roof and a pet snake who wanders in and out occasionally. At least I was warned! :P The lady who runs the place also made a few calls to confirm the bookings for my adventure package tomorrow and told me that, rather than taking a bus into town that would have me hanging around for 90 minutes, the owner of the parasailing company would pick me up in the morning and drive me to Nelson's Bay. I mean, WOW!

I was also given the choice of who I wanted to room with, but just took the first bed I was assigned and ended up with an American couple trying to move out here and a German guy on holiday from his job/bride in Brisbane. What a great decision! These guys are a lot of fun and, together with the three girls in the bungalow next door, we had a spectacular night. There was some drink involved but not much more than a few glasses each. I'm not sure how the subject originated, but at some point Manuel (German guy) asked if anyone had hot chocolate. I just happened to have a single sachet nicked from one of my morning tours at Ayers Rock. Combined with 2 packets of cookies that meant that we had a round-table evening of "Tim-Tam Slammers".

For the uninitiated, a Tim-Tam Slammer is where you bite diagonal corners off a Tim-Tam cookie and use it like a straw to suck the hot chocolate through (I'm told it's even better if you have rum or something to mix in with the hot chocolate). Just before the cookie is about to dissolve you suck it up all in one go. It's surprisingly tasty, but much more fun watching other people go for it. I took a whole slew of pictures and videos (clearly! And sorry that the videos are sideways - don't know how to fix that), and the evening passed in near gut-busting laughter. Brilliant!

The Truth is a Virus

2009-10-06T13:40:00.012+01:00

Sunday 4/10 21:00

How can I already have less than a week left? There's still so much I haven't done!

Mindful of the ticking clock I set out to cross another "should do" item from my list and set off to tour the Opera House. Getting up early wasn't a problem, since one of my roommates set the alarm on her phone and then proceeded to ignore it for 10 minutes while some damn electronic rooster crowed on and on. Finally I got up and turned it off myself, heard a sleepy "thank you" and then all four of them rolled over and went back to sleep. So, I put myself together - my shoes, especially the left one, are still not fully dried out - and set off into the drizzle.

I do like walking through Sydney before too many people are up and about, though. It's fun to look around at the closed shops and near-empty streets. I made it to the Opera House relatively quickly. When I went to sign up for a tour I found out that it was discounted because they couldn't show either of the two main stages due to the "Festival of Dangerous Ideas", which was making use of the spaces all day. I wasn't too bothered, so went ahead.

It was a bit surreal that the first room we were ushered into was the same place I have very bad memories of back from 1986! When Mom flew over to the States to find a house for us to move into she (unintentionally) ended up leaving Michael and I with Holly - the German babysitter from hell. Among other things, this woman is probably the reason for my pathological aversion to health food and avocados. But she also felt that we kids weren't cultured enough and dragged me to a chamber music recital at the Opera House, and proceeded to chew me out afterwards 'cause I was bored and fell asleep during it. I got flashbacks as soon as we walked into the hall, even though it's now being used for a Canadian puppet show.

Anyway. The tour was good but I did want to see if I could afford to see anything while I was there, and simultaneously was intrigued by these Festival events that were going on. So I made my way to the ticket office and was pleasantly surprised when, simply by asking for a discount, the lady knocked a $40 down to $20 AND it was being held in the main concert hall so I'd get to see it after all. How could I say no?

I did have several hours to kill before it started, so I decided to tackle another "should do" and took the bus out to Bondi Beach. I'm not necessarily one who enjoys beach swimming (anything I can't see the bottom of or that can be found in nature, really), so I wasn't too fussed about not having any bathing gear on me. I had intended to do the walk from Coogee to Bondi at some point, but knew there wouldn't be time for it. So instead I just strolled along watching the peace demonstrators, the crashing waves and few surfboarders. Cold and drizzly as it was, the beach was quite empty. I couldn't help wondering how packed it would be on a sunny day!

I was excited to get back to my event, so I didn't stay long. Soon after I was settled into my seat in the Concert Hall, and WHAT a treat! It was an open-panel debate on the topic "Is Democracy Right for Everyone", and while the panelists didn't really stick faithfully to the subject it was still pretty interesting. I took notes through the whole thing (drawing interesting looks from the people around me!), so I may come back and write a full post on it at some point. I even got up and asked a question! Granted, it wasn't answered, but apparently there's still a chance that I could be seen by up to 70 million viewers of BBC World/Fox on October 17th, depending on the editing. World famous, I could be! Hopefully not for making a prat of myself. :P

The debate ran late, so it was about 5pm by the time we got out. I'd intended to find a good pub to watch the Rugby Finals in - Parramatta was in against Melbourne for about the 1st time ever, so the whole city was up in arms about the game all week. I may not really understand the rules, and prefer Union to League (I think) but I figured I'd give it a go. None of the pubs I came across as I walked up George Street looked that promising, though. But I had a brain storm and headed towards the Central YHA - which I'm still wishing I'd booked at rather than the Glebe one - to see if they had any footy-related activities on.

When I got there, lo and behold!, my pal Phil was there. Even though he works the night shift he was behind the counter hanging out with (I think) his partner. Turns out they didn't have anything arranged, but just because I brought it up they ran upstairs and put the game up on their massive cinema screen. So, I was able to curl up on my favorite squishy chair and try to follow along. Parramatta gave it away in the end, which is a bit of a shame.

That's about it, really. I hung around for a bit afterwards. Didn't have enough time to run down to Darling Harbour, but was able to catch some of the fireworks show down there from the YHA. Checked my e-mail only to find that nobody loves me *sniff*. Headed back to Glebe (what a pain!), ate some more pizza, repacked my bags a bit and then made an early night of it. I really hope my shoes have dried out by tomorrow! I'm getting tired of cold prune feet.

Drip Drip Drippy

2009-10-05T13:09:00.007+01:00

Saturday 03/10 23:50

No pub quiz last night but I did have a lovely chat long chat with UK Boy. Found out we share a love of all things rainy and, even though it was quite cold, when the lightening started we could both be found sitting outside and watching the flashes through the fog.

This morning dawned cold and drizzly so there wasn't much chance that I was gonna embark on another expedition before heading back down to Sydney, so I just checked out and caught an earlier train. Found my way to the new hostel with no problems, though it's a trek from the main bits of town. I'm regretting now not staying in the main hostel again. Sure, it's nice to get a different perspective - Glebe is supposed to be the funky bohemian part of town - but given the number of things I still want to do it just would have been more convenient. Plus, this new hostel is something of a hole and the whole floor I'm on smells of poo. I'm already looking forward to leaving and heading up to Port Stephens.

I just dropped off my bags and headed into town. There was something of a mission to accomplish as my big backpack broke up at Ayers Rock and I needed to find a new clip. It was just grey when I left but started raining harder and harder as I walked. By the time I got to Darling Harbour almost an hour later I was quite drenched - having eliminated both an umbrella or poncho from my luggage for space reasons, and I still don't own a raincoat that's not 6 sizes too big. I ended up buying a hideously touristy umbrella for $5, but given how cheap it was, it didn't last too long.

On the spur of the moment I detoured into the IMAX theater. It was recommended by UK Boy, though I didn't end up seeing the same show as him. It was an expensive way to dry off for 45 minutes but I did enjoy the show - "Under the Sea" in 3D.

Afterwards I looked around a bit and found my backpack clip. I also had a wander through the Queen Victoria Building. I have a vivid memory of being there as a kid. Mom and Michael had to spend a good amount of time looking for me; Mom had done something to tick me off so I ran away and hid in a stairwell for a bit. Yes! I was a brat, but I was also about 8. It also doesn't mean that I might not have been justified at the time. :P

Following the rumor of a Latin music and dance festival I ended back up in Darling Harbour. There were some brave souls singing and dancing over at Cockle Bay Wharf, so while the rain continued to spit down I hunkered under my already-failing umbrella and watched. There wasn't a huge crowd but the music was spicy enough to get some people salsa-ing away on a makeshift dance stage. I watched a few of them in particular, and they didn't seem to even know half the people they were dancing with, which I thought was pretty cool. For a second I lamented my lack of rhythm and inability to dance with any sort of style or grace, but then the wind and rain picked up again and the moment passed. :P

I was pretty wet and miserable, and my waterproof hiking boots proved to be anything but, so I only toughed it out until about 19:30 before beginning the long squelch back to the poo hostel. The walk in must have taken at least an hour, so I did loosen the purse strings enough for a bus ticket. Stopped off to pick up what turned out to be an excellent pizza (with enough leftovers for 3 more meals!). Then began the task of wringing all the water out of my clothes! 8-)

Jenny Got Played!

2009-10-04T15:47:00.003+01:00

Friday 02/10 17:00

By a series of bus drivers, no less! But more on that later...

I got back to Sydney from Ayers Rock with no real problems. Turns out the Japanese lady next to me was just hoarding the barf bags - she didn't actually need them, thankfully. Ran into a family from Wisconsin (why, oh WHY would you take a 2.5-year old roaming around Australia on an adventure holiday?!). The Dad was slowly making his way to a science fiction book festival in Canberra (I advised him to start saying "Can-bra" instead of "Can-ber-ra" if he would like to avoid a lynching or beating of some kind. :P ). So we talked geek for a while and he gave me some reading recommendations. I'm gonna miss out on going by about 4 days. Otherwise I would totally have considered changing my itinerary!

Spent the night at Sydney Central again - once more somewhat sleepless, so I was able to reconnect with the night shift peeps. Clearly I was still in Ayers Rock mode, though, 'cause I woke up around 5am panicking that I'd missed a sunrise tour! :P

Anyway. I got packed up and set off for the Blue Mountains. It's only about a 2-hour (slow) train ride from Sydney. As usual I spent most of my time staring out the window. It's funny, but opposed to my being plugged in whenever I go anywhere in the UK, I've barely even listened to my iPod the whole time I've been here. Even on planes. Odd that.

Pretty much the first thing I did after dropping my bags off on a (bottom) bunk at the Katoomba hostel was check the activities board and see what there was to do. It ate up most of my budget for this segment of the trip, but I immediately booked a horseback riding session for the afternoon and an eco-friendly tour for this morning.

The horseback riding was pretty cool. It was basically a 2-hour ride through the Megalong Valley on a steady gelding named Tom. He was pretty well trained to follow the lead horse, so my only real job was to just stay on and occasionally give a little squeeze with my legs to get him going again. We rode thorugh some pretty bushland and the guide I was with even taught me how to canter a bit. As much as I like horses, though, I'm not sure how much I enjoy riding them. I spend most of my time feeling bad that they have to carry a great lump like me around on their backs. Even if the guides say the horses are OK with it, I still feel it's a bit rude of me.

We finished just before 5pm, and I played a bit with their cockatoos while the horses were unsaddled. I wasn't ready to pack it in for the night when I was dropped off at the hostel so I went on a roundabout hike to see the Three Sisters that had been recommended to me. It took about an hour each way, so the sun had set by the time I got to Echo Point, and the Sisters were illuminated but a giant floodlight and looking pretty spectacular.

The rest of the evening was pretty mellow - made dinner and went to sit in the TV room. A Belgian guy had some US tv show called "Glee" on, which I originally dismissed as being stupid but just as I was gonna get up and leave someone came out with the funniest line and I just couldn't go. It was enough to start a conversation during the commercial break with him and an English guy - who I hit off pretty well with. Turns out he lives about 40 minutes from me and knows someone who works for EH! We had fun chatting with other peeps in the room and it's possible some of us might head out into town for a pub quiz tonight, so that could be fun.

My eco-tour this morning had me up at 6am to go have breakfast with some wild kangaroos! The guide was the owner of the company and sure knew his stuff about the area. Man can spot a kangaroo or wallaby like nobody's business! The obviously didn't come too close while we were out of the car and eating, but we saw a fair few while driving there and back.

The rest of the day was spent wandering Katoomba and going to Scenic World for all the rides, which I remember from the last time I was here as a kid. Here's where we get to where Jenny got played. I, stupidly as it turns out, believed the bus driver when he told me it was an easy 1-hour walk from Gordon Falls to Leura Cascades. The soreness from the horse ride I was told was guaranteed never materialized, so I figured I was up for it. MIstake #1!

How a walk that involves many hundreds of steps descending and ascending hundreds of meters can be classified as easy, I don't know! Good grief! If I wasn't sore this morning I may well be this evening! Besides which, it's not a 1-hour walk when you get waylaid by some crazy Polish guy who decides to lecture you about the worldwide Freemason conspiracy against the Poles and their ability to emigrate anywhere and how we're all gonna get it come World War III (though granted, that's not the bus driver's fault). Also, I still don't get the point of recreational walking. Yes, there were some pretty views but I didn't connect with nature or myself and there was no sense of accomplishment when I was done. I really don't understand the appeal.

There was no chance to chastise the driver for his fib 'cause there was someone else at the wheel when I got back on the bus. So, instead I just went to Scenic World and had a blast with the rides and all the scenery. Man! Was that fun! If I hadn't already spent all my money I'd totally go back and do it again. I swear, that's the place that's responsible for my love of train rides and funiculars. The world's steepest railway! SO cool! Plus, the views from the Sky Tram aren't too shabby either. :P

I got played again by another bus driver who dropped me off at The Edge (nature IMAX movie - ran into more Wisconsin-ites) and said he'd pick me up on the last run but never showed, so I had to leg it back to the hostel in the rain. But, hey! Rain! That just gave me the excuse to get washed up, and this is the ONLY hostel I've stayed in so far that has both properly hot water and decent pressure. So now I'm all shiny and clean and feeling good. Nothing sore yet.

Just waiting to see if anything unfolds tonight. Back to Sydney tomorrow but spending the weekend in a different hostel. Glebe is supposed to be that artsy bohemian part of town, so we shall see what it has to offer. 8-)

Ngyajlu Duck Pulka

2009-10-03T15:20:00.002+01:00

Wednesday 30/09 12:15

That's as close as I can get to "I'm a big duck" in Pitjantjatjara seeing as how there's no word for "duck" and it's not a written language, so I've really had to approximate the spelling. The Anangu guides this morning thought it was a hoot that I asked for it, though!

It was up again at 04:50 for another sunrise tour - this one led by local guides in case you couldn't already guess. There was one older man - Ashley Uluru - speaking Pitjantjatjara with another guy, Lenyon (a white New Zealander of all people!) translating. There was also a young guy along kind of helping/observing - his name was Cassidy Uluru and he was a lot of fun. Imagine what Antonio Banderas and Orlando Bloom's love child looks like and that's Cassidy. :P He says he does a mean moonwalk and is planning to break it out come Saturday. Almost makes me wish I was staying!

I had a rather interesting perspective on the tour this morning 'cause the girl who led my tour yesterday afternoon was along as an observer on this one. We ended up having breakfast together and then hung out through the rest of the morning. I got some insider tour gossip and we made fun of the obnoxious Tucson family/tourists in general (turns out that old guy yesterday has a heart attack! We all figured it was just dehydration/too many drinks at dinner!). She's the reason we spent so much time chatting with the tour guides while we walked, I figure, but she was nice and good fun. She had a load of great Uluru photos on her phone and sent them over to mine, and we exchanged e-mail addresses so I can send her some of the ones I took with my camera. So, overall Ayers Rock has been pretty good from a chum perspective. 8-)

It rained this morning! Twice! Granted, it was only for about 3 minutes at a time, but still! I was told yesterday that only something like 1% of visitors ever get to see that, so I feel all special. :P Of course, having so much cloud cover meant that the sunrise didn't offer much in the way of color changes, but that's why it's a good reason to go more than once. Didn't stop me from taking pictures, though!

On my way back to Sydney soon. I likely won't get back to the hostel until about 1730, and I can't imagine anything terribly exciting will happen tonight. Laundry. Woo hoo!

The lady in the seat next to me just nicked all the barf bags and stuffed them in her purse. Not a good sign!!

Bug Candy

2009-10-02T14:55:00.001+01:00

Tuesday 29/09 23:15

Besides the inborn radar that signals my presence to every flying insect within a 5-mile radius, it seems that the sunblock I've been using attracts desert flies in record numbers. People have noticed! Joy.

Red Dawn

2009-10-02T14:37:00.007+01:00

Tuesday 29/09 22:35

I'm trying to finish up writing about the day while I wait for my hair to dry, but I'm absolutely shattered. This is been a very long day with lots of walking and talking to single-serving acquaintances (most of them Americans).

This morning was quite different viewing-wise. The sunrise wasn't as spectacular as the sunset, though was still amazing. Plus, we were in the coach viewing area which was packed with loads of people all vying for the best shot/p[lace to stand (and not necessarily caring if that meant right in front of you). Afterwards I went on a guided walk, which would have been more enjoyable but for the obnoxious 8-year old from Tuscon and her over-indulgent parents. They basically hijacked the whole thing. But it was nice to get up closer to the nooks and crannies of the rock walls and learn a (very) little bit about the geology of the area.

This afternoon was a walking tour of Kata-Tjuta (the Olgas) followed by a sunset viewing, BBQ dinner and stargazing. After trekking to the 1st lookout at the Valley of the Winds we had a choice of walks to do for the first half of the day, and since the tour guide made the 2nd half of Valley of the Winds sound more than a little challenging and scary, I opted for Walpa Gorge instead. It was still about an hour of walking over rocky terrain, and the scenery was very pretty. The obnoxious Tuscon people were back, but luckily they chose the hard option. I felt bad for the tour guide, though, 'cause I know that little girl was getting on her nerves!

Dinner was good, if huge, and afterwards we had a very good star talk. The moon was REALLY bright, so some stuff wasn't visible. I still can't pick out more than a few constellations to save my life, but if someone else points them out I can kinda see the patterns!

We had a bit of excitement on the way back. One of the older gentlemen on the tour didn't listen to the guide when she warned about pushing too hard in the heat and not drinking enough water - he collapsed just after dinner on the way to the bus. Luckily there was a paramedic on the tour, and he seemed ok though they dropped him off at the medical center on the way back.

Ugh! I'm really tired! It's been a long day, and I wasn't working on much sleep to begin with. Am all packed and ready to go, as I have to check out before my 5:30am tour tomorrow. Hair dry-ish. Bed time.

Biker Chick

2009-10-01T13:21:00.012+01:00

Tuesday 29/09/09 13:20

Desert time! Yeah, I'm in the desert and have caught a cold. Typical! :P Of course, it could have something to do with the fact I've been here almost a week and the closest I've come to a fruit or vegetable this whole time is a scoop of mango ice cream my first day, but that's just a guess! I know I should be eating healthier but seeing the prices of everything has kinda put me off that whole food thing. I'm trying to avoid it as much as I can. :P

Anyway. Left Sydney yesterday morning. Got my first glimpse of Ayers Rock/Uluru from the air - just happened to be sitting in the right spot. It was amazing to begin with, and each sighting of it since has not failed to be even better.

Checking into the hostel was quite a faff. Jenny's fear of heights extends even to bunk bed ladders, so I specifically requested a bottom bed. They assigned me one, but when I got to the room some guy materialized and proceeded to inform me in broken English and no uncertain terms that he and his wife were taking both the bottoms and I could basically stuff it. I went back to reception to see about getting a different room - they offered to go force them to give me my bed, but I didn't fancy spending 2 days with them shooting evils at me. The key for the 2nd room didn't work, but the 3rd time was apparently the charm as I ended up with a room to myself!

The hostel itself is a dump. Basically they can get away with charging what they do because once you're here there are almost no alternatives. But it's only for 2 nights, and I'd not planned on spending much time in my room anyway.

After getting settled my 1st order of business was the Harley ride I'd booked around the Rock at sunset. I was supposed to wait out front for the guy to pick me up, and when I got there saw a bunch of guys in leathers standing around some motorcycles so I figured that was them. Turns out it was just a bunch of guys on a road trip! But I stayed and chatted/let them make fun of me until my dude showed up.

I've never ridden a motorcycle before, but OMG I loved it!! At first it was a little strange to be clutching at a total stranger, but I was too busy staring at the Rock to really let it bother me. My guide (Ian) did a lap all the way around first, dropping factoids here and there, and then found us a great spot at the sunset viewing area. He poured a glass of champagne and then pretty much left me to enjoy the view. We were in the car viewing area, which I now know to be a lot less crowded than the one for tours (obviously). There were a few dozen people, but everyone was pretty much quiet and, for lack of a better word, entranced. One crazy hippie lady scratched a massive Hari Krishna prayer into the dirt with her cane, but that was pretty much it from the nutters.

It's amazing how quickly and subtley the colors change. Every picture I took looks different. I was surprised, though, how soon everyone else packed up and left as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. There was still so much to see! Ian and I stayed chatting until the first stars came out, and then we talked about those. It was full-on dark by the time we finally headed back to the resort.

Ian gave me the rest of the champagne to keep - he would have tipped it out otherwise and said it would be a shame to waste it. That was probably my first mistake! :P I'd not intended to buy dinner but I ran into the Harley dudes and we started chatting again. One fun thing the hotel does is sell overpriced meat and let you cook it yourself on banks of BBQ's. Since that's the line they were in when we started talking I just said "Screw it" and joined in for the Outback Combo. Dinner consisted of beef sausage, emu sausage, kangaroo skewer and a crocodile kebab. Pretty tasty!

When I got to the BBQ's my platter o'meat was taken from me and, for the price of a conversation and the promise to e-mail them when they got back to Melbourne, I had my dinner cooked for me to perfection. In true Aussie bloke fashion, they had an Esky out in their supply van so I was invited to join in (2nd mistake!). I felt like a bit of a mooch and offered to buy a round at the bar, but several beers later they still wouldn't hear of it.

We all kinda mutually packed it in around midnight. Besides being QUITE tipsy I was absolutely shattered, not having slept much the night before. AND I had to be up at 0430 for my sunrise tour! What the hell was I thinking!? But we were having lots of fun. Possibly TOO much fun, but the Good Judgement Fairy prevailed and "Smitty" didn't get the end to the evening he was hoping for. :P In the end, I was escorted back to my room (mostly because it turned out they were next door). We never talked about plans for today, though, so I didn't really get to say goodbye and they checked out while I was on my tour this morning. *sigh* Oh well. They were good guys. Would have been fun to ride with them. 8-)

Room With A View

2009-09-30T14:22:00.004+01:00

Oh, man! Today has been a day! One of THOSE days like you'll never forget.

I was raring to go for my Harbour Bridge Climb this morning. Even so, I almost managed to be late thanks to some kindly but misinformed train conductors. Still, I got there and all checked in with no problems.

It took about an hour for us all to get kitted up in suits and harnesses and such (and they are OH so stylish! :P) plus they made us practice going up and down ladders the right way, but everyone was pretty nice and we just joked about while everything got sorted. I briefly chatted with an American guy making the most of a 2-day layover. He's a cultural anthropologist working for the USDOD in Hawaii, so of course he was telling me all about the Forensics Identification lab out there. But we got cut short a bit when the group guide separated me out and moved me towards the front of the group. I'm still not completely sure why he did that. Maybe afraid that I'd hold everybody else up if I was at the back or something. I don't know.

Anyway. The day was fairly sunny and a bit breezy, so I was a little concerned about overheating and getting all sweaty when they added rain pants, fleeces, hats and gloves to our outfits (and even a big hankie tied to our wrists!), but I was glad of it before we'd even reached the first level. The wind REALLY kicked up, blowing steadily at over 70km/hour. I would have been SO bloody cold without those layers!

The climb itself didn't take too long at all. Some stairs, 4 ladders and then a bunch of low, shallow steps. I'd really got myself worked up and worried that I'd not be fit enough to finish, but it was almost easy. No offense to that illustrious person, but even my Mom - she of the bad hip/knee and emphysemic lungs - could do it. Mike (the guide) set a really good pace and stopped every once in a while to chat a bit/let people rest up. Before we knew it, we were at the top and looking out over Sydney.

I was higher just the other day over at Sydney Tower - more than twice as high, actually - but that came without the sense of accomplishment. This was something I'd worked for, even TRAINED for, and even if it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be I still did it.

That's when THAT moment hit me. I realized that just a few years ago there's no way in hell sheer determination would have got me up those steps and ladders. Physically I quite simply couldn't have handled it. As powerless and helpless and frustrated as I've been with my life this whole year, I at least have control over that and today I did something that drives home that there's no going back. I stood at the top of Sydney Harbour Bridge, drinking in the view, alone in a crowd but ok with it. Mike came down the row to get us all lined up for the group pictures and smiled when he saw the shit-eating grin on my face - though I'm sure he gets that a lot.

And then it was time to head back down, which took a bit longer only because we stopped for individual shots a few times. The great thing about being in the first group of the day was that we didn't have to wait on anyone else and could just do our own thing. I spent the whole trip stuck between the two stereotypical Texan girls right at front and a Mom and her son from Manly behind (this was his belated birthday present). So it was nice chatting a bit as we stepped down or waited. The Mom - Vicky - thought it was funny that Mike kept teasing me at how my beanie hat was always riding up. He said I was going for the Swedish Chef look, and took our picture together to commemorate the ridiculousness. I tried to explain that I just have an abnormally shaped head and that always happens, but whatever. Vicky took pains to try and get it settled on my head properly when picture time came around. Nice. :)

So, yeah. I didn't want to come back down, though it was nice to get out of that ridiculous wind, which got even stronger while we were up there. Even I was getting blown from side to side - thank goodness for the safety harness! They don't allow personal cameras up there with you, so I caved and did exactly what they want you to do by spending stupid money on a photo CD. But at least I've got the picture proof to remind me of such an awesome experience.

The rest of the day was spent wandering The Rocks some more, repacking my bags so I don't disturb roommates tomorrow morning (I really need to wash undies and socks!) and then heading out intending to stroll around Hyde Park. But as is my travelling habit, I changed my mind as soon as I stepped out the door, turned left instead of right and so it has been an afternoon at Darling Harbour consisting of parks, crowds, a Malaysian festival of some kind, the Maritime Museum (free bit only - I spent all my money on photos this morning!), lots of walking and now a chocolate cafe at Cockle Wharf as I write this. I think I'll hit Chinatown on the way back to the hostel.

The sun has been shining bright all day but is not offering much warmth what with the wind and all - which down at street level is really just a strong breeze. It's heading down now and will be set within the hour, so it'll be time to head off soon. Not only do I not enjoy being out alone at night (not a safety thing, just feel pathetic-er at night), but maybe if I start walking I'll warm up again! Am regretting only bringing my summer jacket rather than a hoodie.

It all changes tomorrow, though. It's desert time, baby! 8-)

By Land and By Sea

2009-09-29T14:40:00.001+01:00

Saturday 26/05/09 19:05

No dust storm but the wind today is nuts! It has been blowing strong all day. My hair is an absolute rats nest but it also looks quite good for once. Too bad I couldn't think of an excuse for someone to take my picture today. :P

Had a very random day today. It started around 3:30am with lots of door slamming and loud voices in the hall. I tried to ignore it as long as I could, but gacve up the ghost for getting any more sleep around 5am and went downstairs to play on the internet. I needed to top up my card, so spent some time chatting with the night workers at the desk, one of whom was Phil from the other day. They were pretty funny about the loud group on my floor - apparently a bunch of 19-year olds who had been giving the staff grief all night.

But, anyway. I said something to Phil about not wanting to be too touristy today and he immediately went online and printed me off a plan for a self-guided walking tour of The Rocks. I thought that was so sweet!

I didn't start in on that right away, though, 'cause it was still really early and the city completely dead when I left the hostel, so I took a new route down to Circular Quay - stopping to talk to some firemen on the way - where I then went completely ferry-mad and bought a day pass for unlimited rides.

First I took the Rivercat to Paramatta, which is about an hour away. The crew thought I was nuts when I asked if I could sit out on the front deck instead of inside with everyone else. It was very cold and windy (thus the hair) but still good fun. Once at Parramatta I basically just wandered up the river walk and through a park - what bits of the town I saw were very pretty. I also found a shop that sold the best little bits of baklava I think I've ever had!

Once back from Paramatta I set out on the walking tour, which was quite enjoyable except I kept drifting off the map. It wasn't the most clearly marked path in the world! But getting lost was just of fun, and I had 4 maps on me, so it's not like I couldn't have found my way somewhere. Good thing I had them, too, because 2 people stopped me for directions and I was able to tell them exactly where to go!

I visited two of the pubs which claim to be the oldest in Australia and had a hideously overpriced pint of porter in each. "Nelson's Blood" at The Lord Nelson (funnily enough)for $7.90 and "James Squire" at The Hero of Waterloo for $8. S'truth!

Getting lost on my way over to The Rocks weekend market, I happened across what must be the theater district. I recognized the face of Cate Blanchett on a poster and went over to look. Turns out there was a Saturday matinee of "A Streetcar Named Desire" about to start. On a whim I went inside and, I suppose, rather foolishly asked if they offered concession prices for YHA members. Mr. Campy Man behind the counter looked at me as if I were some little insect and said "Well, we don't really need to do that, do we?". I swear, if he had tacked "honey" on the end I would have smacked him! :P

I might have thrown my budget (such as it is) to the wind and gone for a ticket anyway, since the show was bound to be both unique and spectacular, but they were all sold out. I was told I could hang around and wait in a corner, and if anyone showed up with an extra ticket they would point them my way, but I didn't have enough cash on me and I doubt random strangers would accpet travelers checks!

Despite disappointement at my lost opportunity I soldiered on and wanderer for another hour or so. Eventually I found myself near Circular Quay, so I decided to take another ferry ride - this one to Manly. Had some walking, had some sun and sand and quite a lot of wind. Then it was time to head back to the hostel and cook dinner, organize myself for tomorrow (Bridge Climb!), watch the evening movie (What's Eating Gilbert Grape - I slept through most of it) and then settle down to write this freakin' novel. I'm pooped!!

Things I'd forgotten about
Burger King is called Hungry Jacks over here.
Blinky Bill/Snugglepot & Cuddlepie
The very yumminess of meat pies, sausage rolls and Violet Crumbles
The song "I Still Call Australia Home"

Things I never realized/was aware of
How freakin EXPENSIVE everything is!
Banks aren't open even a half day on Saturdays

Woozy and Boozy

2009-09-28T13:53:00.000+01:00

10:30PM Friday 25/0/09

Today was a really great, if very long, day. I did manage to sleep fairly well, though some of the people in the room had no qualms about slamming the door at 2am or something. As such, I wasn't that bothered about getting up and ready at 6am!

Today was Wine Tour Day up in Hunter Valley. It was good, but kinda proved my earlier concerns about travelling alone - that no matter how uncharacteristically outgoing and chatting I may be, I'm still always going to be the odd person out because I'm not here with a friend or a partner or a relative the way everyone else seems to be. I had barely even signed into the tour before the driver suggested that I sit in the front of the bus with him so that everyone else could sit with their respective others. I didn't mind 'cause he was nice and we chatted a bit - he called me "Miss Jennifa" all day - but it still made me feel a bit pathetic.

It's worse in the evenings, I've discovered. Roaming around alone in the daytime is one thing, but sitting down to meals or wandering at night is so isolating. Oh well. I'm trying not to let it get to me. As I sai, today was good. The drive up was really pretty and the driver (Nick) kept asking if I remembered places or streets as we passed through the North Shore. In truth, I'm remembering very little, but what I do seems to hit hard.

We went to 4 vineyards and tasted at least 35-ish wines. Most of them were quite nice, even the whites which I'm not usually fond of. I kinda understand now what the hell people mean when they talk about "fruity notes" and I know how to "fluff" wine. Oddley enough, most of the Shiraz I tried - usually my favorite - I universally disliked. I know know if it was because we only went to little dinky places or what, but there you go.

The day also included a nice lunch and a quickie visit to both a chocolate and a cheese shop. By the end of the day we were all a fairly chatty group but for two mother/daughter combos from Chicago and Queensland. I did like the two UK couples but they were there together and not really looking to add to their little circle. So, for most of the day it was just me chatting with the driver, except for the ride home when everyone else fell asleep (can't hold their wine!) and I just stared at the window at the scenery. We drove over the Harbour Bridge at night. Great!

I have no idea what tomorrow will hold. Theoretically another dust storm but I haven't planned a thing. Hopefully something interesting will present itself...

The Trick Is To Not Care

2009-09-27T02:07:00.002+01:00

15:47 Thursday 24/09/09

About how stupid you look being a tourist, that is. I may whine and complain about it, especially when surrounded by loud, overbearing Americans and thus, tainted by association while on vacation, but the truth is I enjoy being touristy. Especially when it makes you look stupid! Which is why I've been walking around in soaking wet clothing for the past hour looking like I've wet my pants!

After a half-hour free jet boat ride my hair is a wild tangled mess, I'm sopping wet and what bits of me have already dried are incredibly salty. I can stand that everywhere but my face. After the adrenaline rush of a harbour tour I was reduced to stepping into a local bar to ask if I ould please use their facilities just so I could wash my face! The waiter didn't mind - he thought it was funny. Maybe he's used to it. :P

19:57

Other activities today have included a more sedate boat cruise, wherein the rest of me dried off. The morning was spent doing other miscellaneous touristy bits at Sydney Tower/Centrepoint - including the Skywalk, which is where they secure you up right good and have you climb around the top of the tower. Spectacular views!

Man! It's only 7:55pm and I'm fading fast. I was hoping at least to make it until 10pm. I'm having to do a load of laundry already, what with one of my 4-days worth of outfits smelling of airplane and another now crusty and salt-ridden. Having such a purpose is helping a little bit to stay up, but not much. I almost don't care if I go to bed now, that I'll likely be wide awake by 3am. Keep in mind I've been up for about 2 days straight now. All I want to do right now is sleep! I'll likely change my mind about the whole 3am thing come 3am, but here goes!

Memory Lane

2009-09-26T06:10:00.002+01:00

08:45 (Sydney Time) Thursday 24/09/09

I don't remember much about my miscellaneous forays into Sydney city centre from when I was a kid, but some things are hitting me so strongly. My first glimpses of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, for sure, but also Macquarie Street where Dad's office used to be - now high-rise apartments and sidewalk cafes....

I'm sitting on a park bench by Circular Quay - sipping coffee and eating a toasted bagel with vegemite. The Opera House is in front of me and the sun is shimmering on the water as ferries drift by. The Bridge is obscured for now, but you always know it's there. I've already walked to Campbell Point this morning to get some good photos (I'm going to end up with SO many shots of the same places!). Its been really interesting watching the city slowing coming to life this morning. Almost dead when my train pulled in from the airport just after 6am, slowly stirring yet still disquietingly empty when I hit the streets again at 0730, and now getting noisier as people head off to work and tourists step blinking into the day. For a big city it's still quite peaceful so far, though.

For not having slept properly since Monday evening I'm surprisingly functional - though the day is early so time will tell. I didn't really sleep on the plane(s) but did, on the last leg, force myself to sit with my eyes closed for a few hours. I could still hear everything around me but I think I may have shut down my brain enough to keep me going and help re-set my clock.

We arrived just after 5am - a wee bit earlier than expected and with the lightest touchdown I've ever experienced - which is rare. Customs/luggage didn't take too long, mostly I think because of the campy guy I was chatting with at the time. He was like a good luck charm - everything went smoothly and fast for him and it trickled down to me. A nice change from my Travel Curse!

Anyway. The hostel wasn't too hard to find. I can't check in until noon, but the very nice/tired/frazzled night-shift guy (Phil) let me go upstairs anyway and take a shower. We chatted for a bit and he said I was the nicest person he'd talked to that whole day. Which is sweet but makes me sad to think what his day must have been like! I offered to buy him a coffee when I ran over to the shops to get shampoo, but since it was the end of his shift he said he was going upstairs for a beer. So hopefully that helped. As I was heading upstairs I head him say quietly to his morning replacement, "She's fun. She can stay". Awwwww! 8-)

But! The 9am hour has passed, which means touristly stuff is now open. I may as well make the most of my morning, as I will undoubtedly be struggling by this afternoon.

Getting Here is Half The Battle

2009-09-25T20:47:00.004+01:00

03:09 GMT Wednesday 23/09/09

I'm flying somewhere over Afghanistan now. There's something odd about being able to say that. I don't know why it never occurred to me that I would end up over this part of the world, but I find it surprising. Makes me curious and want to get down there someday.

Only 5 hours into flight time with another 7 to go (on this leg). It's -65F outside and it sure feels like it. I'm bloody freezing! 3 layers, 2 pairs of socks AND I nicked a blanket from the guy in the seat in front of me (he didn't want it) and I still can't keep warm. I almost find myself longing for the heat of Singapore.

Ay, yes. Singapore! Jenny has egg on her face after insisting for months that she had a non-stop flight to Sydney. Turns out, "direct" doesn't mean the same thing as "non-stop", even though when I booked the tickets I had to actively make the decision as to whether to layover or not. Grrr..... I hate layovers. 12 hours to Singapore, about 2.5 hours to refuel, and then anouther 7-ish hours to Sydney. 8 hours is about how long it takes to get from London to Denver (non-stop!). This trip is making me appreciate how relatively easy it is to get home.

I almost didn't even get this far, though. Jenny's Travel Curse has struck again. Despite a considerable amount of preparation and planning over the past 10 months - tickets, getting a visa, finding places to stay and looking into things to do - this whole trip almost came crashing down around my head because of some computer glitch from 23 years ago!

When I arrived at the airport I'd already done airline check-in (twice!) so I thought it would be a breeze to get myself sorted. Thank goodness I've had it drilled into me my whole life to always leave plenty of time at airports! The stupid computer wouldn't print my ticket and after making my way through 3 customer service agents the problem was identified as being my Australian travel visa. Despite my having applied for it back in July, I was told it had been revoked. A call was placed to someone who in turn called Canberra and over the course of an hour it came to light that the Australian Border Agency (or whatever theyc all it) has no record of my ever having left Australia back in 1986, so I've been in the books as an illegal alien ever since my last visa ran out over 20 years ago! WTF!!!

Anyway. The situation sorted itself out and obviously I made the flight, but still! How do I always manage to get myself into these sorts of situations?! Please, oh please, tell me this is the only (albeit rather considerable) speedbump and that the rest of the trip will go smoothly! 8-)

Almost 4am now (for me. Bright light outside. No idea where I am now. Signing off.

The Fingers of Animals???

2009-09-19T21:39:00.001+01:00

My French has always been terrible. A little while ago on the bus we passed a storefront with a sign over it saying something like “Le Lingue de les Droits de l’Animal”. I thought my translation of it was a bit off, so I asked Claude what it said – “League of the Rights of Animals”. Which accounts for my earlier confusion. I thought “droits” was French for “fingers”! :P

I am currently sitting in the front room of Bryan and Claude’s FANTASTIC new Paris flat. The place is amazing – historic, spacious, grand and, of course, their own special brand of funky. The last two days have been crazy crazy and I’m absolutely shattered. Doing laundry at the moment ‘cause I know I won’t have the chance once I get back to Swindon and before I head off to Australia. How nuts is that?

Anyway. I arranged a quickie trip to Paris for several reasons. 1) Because I CAN! After so much of this year spent, quite literally, not ALLOWED to leave the country, I now feel the need to do so at every opportunity. 2) Because it’s been far too long since I’ve seen any of the Paris Haddons – well over a year for everyone but Lauren. Finally, because I had an e-mail off Mizz Newland about 6 weeks ago saying that she and her Mom were coming to Paris and saying I should try and meet them out here for a day or so. As insane as the timing is, what with me about to fly off to Sydney, I booked a few extra days off work, found a deal on Eurostar tickets and here I am!

And it has been wonderful! A great relaxing break despite all the running around and stuffing myself stupid and worrying about moving tomorrow, etc. I’m o glad I came. Thursday night was a nice catch up with all the family, sans Sonia who for some reason feels the need to stay down in Lyon and study rather than come see me. Friday was busy busy following the Lady Newlands around town – the Louvre, an open-top bus tour, a few cafes, some window shopping, lots of chatting and one of the best patisseries EVER! My function mostly was to try and keep them from falling asleep all day, at which I kinda succeeded.

Today was vaguely calmer. Bryan and Claude, being the absolute stars that they are, offered to host Jenn and her Mom over for lunch. I fetched them from their hotel and escorted them to the flat, via the aforementioned patisserie so we could pick up dessert. We chatted and ate for hours until pretty much everyone had lost the will to function, which of course is when everyone left to finish their errands for the day. Jenn and Mama Newland to be touristy, Bryan to do household-assembly chores, and Claude, Lauren and I went clothes/house shopping for about 4 hours!

Anyway. Tomorrow I’m up well and early to catch the train back to Swindon. As soon as I arrive I shall be rushing off to the new place to drop my bags off before heading to the old house to commence the final move-out with the help of some friends. Hopefully we can do it all in one go and I will officially no longer be living with Creepy Boy and under the rule of my crazy landlady. Then it’s back to the new flat to unload and unpack and get as settled as I can before I have what may or may not be a date for Sunday afternoon/evening. Monday =’s work, Monday night =’s packing my backpack and trying to square as much of my remaining stuff away as possible. Part of Tuesday =’s work and then I’m off to the airport and Australia-bound.

The sheer enormity of the next few days is so great that I’m having trouble processing it all, let along getting excited for my trip. I’m having to take life one bit at a time, but unfortunately those bits are chunks of time no greater than about 5 minutes! Right now I’m just hoping that things stay relatively smooth and nothing happens to upset my schedule too much. We shall see – fingers crossed! Even the fingers of animals! :P

P.S., Sophie's Blanket

2009-09-19T14:40:00.001+01:00

As I said, the exact same thing in pink.

Latest Works, Part Deux

2009-08-31T23:14:00.000+01:00

Yeah, I know it's lame to just post pictures of blankets I'm making rather than write anything, but things are just so pear-shaped at the moment I'm tired of whining about it!! More later.....

This is one of the baby blankets I'm doing for Helen's twins. I know this looks wonky, but I didn't block it or anything. So this is Jasper's, and I'm working on the exact same thing in pink for Sophie.

My Latest Creation

2009-07-29T23:18:00.005+01:00

Look what I made!! I seem to be chronicling all my so-called achievements of late, but I must say, this is one of the ones I'm most proud of. I've spent months working on this thing off-and-on. 1050 little yarn yo-yo things, all woven together in as close to randomness as my order-obsessed mind can make. I'm being quite selfish and keeping this to myself for now, but have already started my next project - 2 baby blankets for my boss's twins. She picked a pattern that I am SO not smart enough to figure out, but damn have I been trying! I think I've actually invented a new stitch to get around the part I don't know how to do! :P

Jenny WANTS!!!!

2009-07-29T14:06:00.000+01:00

The Constant Gardener

2009-07-26T11:30:00.004+01:00

Methinks I let this one runner bean grow a leeeetle too long! But it's still damn tasty! I'm LOVIN' the whole home-grown food thing! I foresee the potential to go full-on crazy given a few years and adequate growing space!

(The corn is now taller than me, btw, but I have NO idea when all that will be ready)

C'est Formidable!

2009-07-26T11:27:00.001+01:00

I already have a few people convinced that I work out in some sort of clown museum. Really it's just a bloke-y gym with some rather odd characters. But I love that I know have this picture to fully illustrate my point when I send out texts re: some of the crazies I sweat alongside of! :P

CORN!!!!!

2009-07-22T15:51:00.003+01:00

Not quite as high as an elephant's eye, but for something grown in a pot not too shabby!!!

Also, check out how well everything else is doing as compared with the picture I posted a few weeks ago!

An Open Book

2009-07-14T07:40:00.003+01:00

Happy Bastille Day!!!

The observation has been made that I spend an awful lot of time at the pub. In my defence, I would argue that I maybe go once a week for lunch with the mapping boys, and then maybe twice a month or so with a group of work peeps on a Friday night. That really is pretty much it.

Having said that, this ale pull tag is what the owners of my local gifted me with last Friday at lunch. These people know me FAR too well!! :P

Jennifer Mary, Quite Contrary

2009-06-27T22:50:00.006+01:00

My garden is SO a-growin’! If you can call a collection of grow bags and potted plants a garden, that is. The backyard of my house is nothing but paving stones and gravel, though, so pots are basically my only option.

I don’t know why I suddenly got on the kick to do this – it’s not like I’ve ever tried to grow fruit or vegetables before. Plants/green things have never really been my strong suit. I can do basil and rosemary, but have never really had much success with anything else. But this year I started out with one thing and it just took off from there.

I think maybe it’s partly because it’s another way for me to get outside and potter around a bit. Another reason might be because I damn near threw my back out carrying bags of dirt back from the Garden Center and I wanted to make damn sure all the effort was worth it! Whatever the reason, my “garden” has been very much a focus for me of late, which is all the more reason why I’m so pleased at how ell it seems to be turning out.

On display we have: zucchini, butternut squash, tomatoes, jalapeños, strawberries, corn (!!!), and LOADS of peas and beans. The beans so far are just flowering, but there are quite a few pea pods that have sprung up. The most obvious sign of success so far has been my strawberries. Look how pretty! A couple of them have just started turning red, so I think they’re about ready to eat. Tomorrow will be the big day for that, I think. I can’t believe it – I’m actually gonna be able to eat something I’ve grown!! I’m not saying I want to turn into Farmer Jenny or anything, but as an after-school hobby and all, I’m pretty psyched at my apparent ability to be even vaguely sustainable. Hey-ho, let’s go!

Mish Mash

2009-06-27T22:32:00.008+01:00

Holy cow! SO much to report! I know I haven’t posted for ages – just haven’t been motivated. I’m still not, really, but I’m not ready to give up on this thing yet and the big stuff just keeps piling up. So, I figure I’ll start out small and go from there. Pictures will possibly be uploaded, depending on how this wretched mobile broadband thingie works out. If it’s gonna take an hour per photo, sorry folks!

Lots of little things to report. I’ve been getting better about getting out of the house and exercising regularly. I never remembered to weigh myself when I first joined the gym, but as of the first time I can remember checking my weight about 8-ish weeks ago I’m now officially down a stone (14lbs). I guess that’s good, even if it’s nowhere near as down as I’d hoped to be by now. It’s enough for me to have gone out and bought some new clothes for Mom and Dad’s visit, however! :P

Still plugging away at the job, which I continue to enjoy, but I’m always applying for new positions, both in and out of EH. At this point, I just need to focus on getting a permanent position that pays more than 20K a year so that I qualify for a working visa come February. I’m not terribly worried about it yet, but I will be soon, if only because this year seems to be passing by SO damned fast! I can’t believe it’s almost July already! Where has all the time gone!

Anyway. Big news #1, for any who may not have heard, my visa appeal came through last week. The documents sent over from the Tribunal were 6 pages of legalese. I tried to skip to the end, though that didn’t help THAT much. Still, I was able to discern that the judge ruled in my favor – basically pointing out that I’d been eligible for a visa all along and the Home Office made a mistake when processing my application. So, that’s one hurdle overcome at least. Theoretically the Home Office will contact me and have me send out my passport for processing – which can take 6-8 weeks. So the whole thing is far from over, but still….. I guess now the next worry is whether or not I’ll have it back in time to go to Australia!

So, yeah. I spent the latter half of last week celebrating that. Actually, almost all of last week was pretty damn awesome. Thursday was just a few steps above. Other highlights of the week included accidentally poisoning a new friend (who I’m sure will never trust my cooking again, though in my defense I ate the same stuff he did and was fine, so I think he already had a bit of a stomach bug when he got here), a really good pub night out with a couple of peeps and baking up a storm of a cake for my boss’s leaving do. She’s pregnant with twins and is one of the nicest bosses I’ve ever had, so I wanted to do something nice for her.

This was the end product. I had Kieran draw the design, which I then copied out and transferred to the cake. I wish I’d thought to do something better with the banner, but I’m still pretty pleased with the result. It’s been a long time since I did any fancy cake decorating – I’d love to take a class or something, but it doesn’t seem all that practical as I’d have to re-buy all my icing tips and stuff. Still, as a one-off thing it was a lot of fun.

Blah! I have a bunch more entries to write, so I’m gonna stop this one here for now. It may have not been all that thrilling or anything, but give me some credit! I’m only just getting back into the swing of things! To recap: life’s good, fun times are too be had on occasion, gym appears to be working, judge says I’m allowed to stay through February. Woo hoo! I can only hope I’m on a roll and even more good stuff is yet to come. 8-)

Good Day Sunshine

2009-05-31T20:51:00.001+01:00

Yes, she’s back, but only for a little while. Despite appearances, I’m not ready to give up on keeping this blog, but I am going to work my way back into the habit slowly, just so I don’t burn out or anything. I want to be able to detail cool things that happen to me day-by-day, but I do feel a bit of pressure to be entertaining, which isn’t always possible when you lead an exceedingly mundane life! Maybe someday I’ll find that happy balance!

Anyone who knows me is aware of my intense love and reverence for a good, heavy rain. But we’ve had that here in Swindon for a good several weeks now – not always nice downpours, but at least grey and misty. So I’ve actually enjoyed the last few weekends as they’ve been rather cloudless and sunny. I live rather close to a pretty little park, and it’s never all that busy, so I’ve just bought a picnic blanket and I’ll head out there for a couple hours on a weekday afternoon to read for a while and generally bask.

The park is such a great place to people-watch, and it’s totally fun to deliberately take things out of context. I plug into my iPod playing on shuffle and just have this great soundtrack for all these people running around/chatting/playing ball, etc. I can just lie out and stare at the world around me behind my shades, and no one really minds ‘cause they’re all doing the same thing! I got a bit burnt the first time, but I don’t stay out very long, and it’s very relaxing. Here’s hoping I get the chance to keep this up on a semi-regular basis throughout the summer! 8-)

I'm On TV!!!

2009-04-27T13:23:00.002+01:00

I don't really need to tell you what I did this weekend, check this out!

Little April Showers

2009-04-15T15:57:00.001+01:00

I was awakened around 3am by the most thunderous roar of raindrops on my roof and skylights – it was glorious! I kept hoping it would last so I could run outside and play at a more respectable hour, but alas, it had all but petered out by the time I got up and left for work. I still haven’t quite learned my lesson about playing in potholes and puddles on the walk in – which leaves me wet, chilled and/or steaming throughout the day, but oh well. I still get grins and pseudo-exasperated looks from peeps when they behold my rather bedraggled appearance – no one cares, really. They just find my fascination with the wet stuff a bit odd. Whether they are laughing with me or at me, however, is yet to be determined! :P

Of course, another thought that went through my brain when I woke up and heard the rain was “My beans are drowning”! One of the ways in which I occupied myself over this 4-day Easter break (when all I really wanted to do [since I wasn’t able to make it to Paris] was come in to work – how sad is that!) was to potter around the house and play with dirt and seeds. I re-did the flower baskets out the front, spruced up my herb pots in the kitchen and planted some flower seeds in the back garden (if you can call a few square meters of paving and gravel a garden). Since there is no actual dirt back there, I hauled a 60L (when dry!!) compost grow-bag back from the garden center – at no small expense to my back! – and planted some dwarf bean seedlings. Should they survive this recent deluge, I’ll go back for some reeds to make a frame, and maybe my efforts will actually result in my being able to sample the fruits of my labours! I’m kinda entranced by the idea. I’m tempted to get some more bags and maybe try for some peas and strawberries, but we shall see. Not including the cost to my back, it’s really only about £6 for both bag and seedling, but I’m still worried about tempting fate and getting too settled while the whole visa thing is still up in the air. No word on that yet, and none due for some time.

Anyway. Other activities undertaken over break included some spring cleaning, several visits to the gym, finishing up my latest crafty project – of which I’m very proud, indeed. On Friday some friends took pity on my lack of recent adventures and drove me out to Avebury and West Kennet. We walked around there for a few hours, and Paul gave mini-lectures re: the history of the stones and stuff. It was raining off and on, but nothing too heavy. I had a lot of fun and took loads of pictures – which may or may not get posted later depending on who wins the war between myself and the mobile broadband peeps. Paul and Amanda go to Avebury all the time, and Paul’s mom has been there before as well, so I think I found the whole experience most fascinating, but I think they had a nice time as well. I likely would have spent most of the day in the house otherwise, so I was certainly glad for the chance to get out!

The only other thing that went on was that I actually went and saw a movie on Sunday! Absolutely everything was shut, what with it being Easter and all – fancy that! But the movie theatre was open and, having nothing better to do…. The closest (good) cinema is about an hour’s walk from my house – well on the other side of town – but it’s not such a bad walk, there’s no hills or anything. I just plugged into my headphones and went into autopilot. I ended up seeing “Knowing”, which isn’t the most fantastic of movies, but good enough. It was at least worth the effort it took to get there, and was a decent way to pass the early afternoon. It may be more of a rental-type experience, but there you have it.

More to tell, but no time. I have to pinch and steal the opportunity to post on my breaks, and even then I’m nervous about anyone seeing in case they think I’m misappropriating my internet time. Until next I creep in at 7:30am…..!

Assimiliating

2009-04-03T14:58:00.001+01:00

I've really been here too long! I've been asked to cater a cake for a party of 80 - Scouts 10 year anniversary or something. I was e-mailing one of the people interested, and caught myself thinking that "flavor" just looked all wrong. I wanted to spell it "flavour"!!! I don't know if I should be scared or not! :P

Oh, Happy Day!

2009-03-27T08:36:00.007Z

Where to begin! I’ve been terrible about updating lately, mostly because I feel guilty about using internet time at work, but also because I’ve been whining to most of you about all this over the phone anyway, so what’s the point in writing about it as well? But, in the interests of posterity, I may as well, eh?

Let’s begin with one of the best birthdays I can recall in recent memory! On the grand scale of things it could be described as somewhat mellow, but I had so much fun and was feeling the warm fuzzies all day. It actually started on Tuesday when I hoofed it home early to begin making the Cake of Cakes! Zukar Almond Kirsch Torte – that which over the years has evolved into my birthday cake of choice and which I’ve been without these last several years. I winkled the recipe out of Il Mama, upscaled it a bit so as to make enough for peeps at work (i.e., transformed an 8” layer cake into a 9x13” 4-layer monstrosity requiring no less than 32 eggs!), and spent 8 hours that evening putting it all together. The result was absolutely stupendous! I waited years for that cake and, hot damn! Was it worth it!

Getting the damn thing in to work was no treat, though. You might not think that 4 light and fluffy sponge cakes and 5 almond meringues would be heavy, but put them all together with the syrup and the buttercream and it all adds up! My arms certainly got a workout carrying the tray!

I arrived at work to find my desk decorated with streamers and some cards and prezzies laid out from my fellow office peeps, which I was totally not expecting. Other than bragging about the Cake of Cakes, for which I gave no reason for baking, I only told a couple of people that it was my birthday when I was trolling for bodies to celebrate with after work, but I guess word gets around! I was pretty useless work-wise all morning, mostly because Michael, Kate & Co. gave me a fantastic cookbook that I read from cover to cover, and had more than a few comments from the peanut gallery as to what I should make and bring in (it’s funny now that I’m switching offices ‘cause loads of people have come up to quasi-complain that they anticipate being cut off from access to treats when I bring them in from now on – that all my ‘new friends’ will benefit from the baking. I’ve said that they can stay on the list, it’s just their job to come visit me if they want goodies; I’m not delivering to them!).

Just after noon a bunch of us walked over to an Italian restaurant (right by my house, actually) that does a good lunch deal. I think it’s one of only 2 proper restaurants within 10 minutes of work that’s not a curry house (of which there are dozens!), so it was a refreshing change. It was very nice and tasty – mellow, but fun. We sat around for ages, just hanging out. No one really cared about getting back to work! We finally did get back around 2:30pm, but really I was just passing through as I’d arranged to meet up with someone at the pub at 4pm. There followed an evening in with a parade of work peeps dropping by to sit for a while. There was a core of four of us in for the long-haul, but I was really touched by the number of others who came by – including one who didn’t arrive until after 10pm, but knew we’d still be there!

Despite the plethora of interesting pictures available indicating otherwise, no one got that toasted (heh heh, though it was really fun coming in all bright and chirpy the next morning to see loads of groggy, pained faces! :P). Our table did get into a beer mat flinging contest with the table behind us, but even though the bartender usually frowns on such shenanigans he let us get away with it – he knows us (and me) by now! At one point he made me stand on my bench and had the whole pub sing to me!

So, yeah. We stayed at pub until close and then, being famished, Paul, Amanda and I headed off to Paul’s favourite curry place which, again, just happens to be right by my place. So it’s both tasty and convenient. We knew it was time to call it a night, though, when we started nodding off over our papadoms! I trudged back to the house, called Kate and the kids, went to sleep around 1:30am and was up again by 4am (ok, so that wasn’t so fun!). But the entire day was completely amazing and touching, and I can’t believe how much fun I had given that I usually dread my birthdays with all their ensuing miserableness. It was great! I wanna do it again! :P

Stay of Execution

2009-03-19T15:04:00.003Z

I was waiting until I got an official letter from HR confirming that all was go for launch, and I just did.

I have a job for the next 6 months. I passed the interview for the GIS position I'd been asked to apply for (found that part out on Tuesday) and today was formally sent the offer letter. As far as they are concerned, my contract will now expire 31 Sept 2009 (so does that mean I can stay forever since that day will never come?) and I have until 18th August to resolve any outstanding visa issues (which still isn't enough time as the average turnaround time is 29 weeks which puts me well into October). But we'll just cross that bridge later, eh?

Right now I'm in the mood to celebrate! Unfortunately, no one else is, but we may go out tomorrow night, so at least there's that. But, woo hoo!!!!!!

Day Tripper

2009-03-17T09:50:00.004Z

I’ve stopped really trying to talk to people about the whole visa/job thing, mostly because there’s nothing I or anyone else connected with me can say or do about it to make me feel any better. The three most common responses I get are A) there’s nothing that can be done so just sit back and wait, B) some empty platitude about how everything will work out for the best, or C) a question somewhere along the lines of “When are you going to give up the ghost and move back to the States?”. None of these are much of a comfort, but the thing is I don’t have an answer anymore than do the people I talk to. I have no clue. So, I choose to internalize rather than perpetually whine (except here).

As a result, I’ve had a rather introspective weekend and a great many hard and angry conversations with myself. The thing is, when your mind is furiously screaming at yourself, the body just sort of goes into autopilot. I set out for a quick errand into town on Saturday because the weather was nice and arrived home again 4 hours and more than 5 miles later – and just a wee bit exhausted!

I started out just meaning to finally get my library card and maybe pick up a book or two – that was one hour. Next, having nothing better to do and being rather loathe to go home, I wandered up into Old Town and explored around Swindon’s art gallery and history museum (such as it is, that really only filled up 30 minutes between the two of them! But I know the one of the town’s Cultural Directors, so I can’t really say it’s totally crap). After that the walking started. I picked a random road and just started off, but after about 10 minutes realized I’d already been that way before when I first came to Swindon to go house hunting, so I doubled back and picked a different route whereupon I finally found a destination. There’s a big lake/park complex about 1.5 miles from town called Coate Water, so I just headed there.

It was a good walk, though I didn’t stay very long once I arrived as the sun was already starting to go down. I really just walked up, stared at the water for a bit and then turned around! Not a lot of reward for all that effort, I would say, but I guess the point was the journey, not the destination. I don’t usually enjoy recreational walking – I really don’t see the point or wherein lies the fun in aimless rambling, but I found it quite therapeutic to be doing something even vaguely active whilst I mulled things over in my head.

I know I tend to overanalyze or contemplate even the most unlikely scenarios. I guess that’s where my dislike of not being in control comes into play – as much as I enjoy spontaneity, when it comes to the grand scheme of things I like to have a plan and know where I’m going. At the moment I’ll settle for knowing I’ll have some form of income after the end of this month.

One of the hardest things to come to terms with is the question of how much longer I should fight to stay over here. My immediate instinct is to do absolutely whatever it takes – to exhaust what little savings and mental strength I have left and eke out every second possible in the hopes that somehow things will turn out the way I want them to. The problem is, not many people understand where I’m coming from so I have a hard time justifying such a seemingly irresponsible course of action to others, let alone myself.

I really can’t explain it, but I feel so strongly that this is where I need to be, here is where my future lies. I may not have much of a career at the moment, but I think I may finally have found a wee bit of a niche, if only I can wiggle my way in and take root. I feel like I can build a life here, both professionally and personally, in way I never could back in the States. At the risk of sounding George Bailey-like, I’m not really needed back there – everyone has their own life going on and I’m just ever hovering in the periphery. I’m not really needed here, either, but I feel a sense of potential – like someday I might be. It’s nothing against anyone back home – please don’t anyone take offence at what I’m saying. I know I’m not expressing myself very well, but I’m just trying to communicate how frustrating and sad and lonely is this whole situation in which I now find myself and it seems like no one really gets where I’m coming from.

I have to wonder as well, though, how much pride comes into play in my decision to keep fighting. Is it just that I don’t want to be sent home with my tail between my legs? Do I feel like I’m owed something for having turned my life completely upside-down for years in an attempt to change the path I was on and so very unhappy with? I shouldn’t have had such an expectation that suddenly everything would be alright once I moved over here, but I know I certainly hoped that such a drastic change would signal something.

I think it’s more that I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life thinking ‘what if’. What if I had just held on a little longer? What if I was in the right place at the right time and still missed my chance? What if I had it right and good and let my future slip through my fingers because I didn’t try hard enough? To me, that’s a bigger sin than not trying in the first place. I don’t want to end up with some romanticized notion of how perfect my time in England was – when I have quite a lot of proof that it’s been far from fun a good deal of the time – just because I didn’t ever have the chance to make my own decisions and leave of my own accord when I was ready to.

Ideally I will be able to continue working and specifically at EH, but I’m preparing myself for another bout of joblessness and the humiliating task of begging for employment, just so I can maximise my chances of being sponsored for work visa. The fact that I could be prevented from doing even that for the next few months with my current visa status up in the air is not so comforting, but I’m still going to try. In the meantime, I think I’ll need a great many more walks before I get anything of any kind sorted. As it stands at the moment, two weeks from today I will be out of a job. Bring it on.....

Great Scot!

2009-03-13T08:41:00.002Z

Short story: This is Bruce. He wore his kilt to work yesterday to try and cheer me up. Bruce is my hero right now. 8-)

Longer story: A few weeks ago four of us in the office all had interviews for the same position. As a result, we were all a bit spiffied up (for a little while at least, before we all reverted to the jeans and t-shirts tucked away inside our backpacks). Since this is not our usual attire, clearly, a few comments were thrown about at our expense from all those who sat comfy in casualwear at their desks. The four of us meant to go out together and have a ‘bankers lunch’, but we couldn’t bear to stay dressed up that long!

Because everyone was talking about how odd it was to see people out of their usual attire/comfort zones, the idea was bandied about that the whole office should share in the experience – those who usually dress down should dress up and vice versa. There’s a charity day held every 2 years called Red Nose Day (see entries from 2 years ago, about this time), which seemed to be the perfect goofy excuse to try and drum up support, and that day just happens to be today.

Yes, as I type, I am at my desk and as dressed up to the nines as Jenny can get. With her limited means and wardrobe, that basically means I’m in a skirt and high heels, but still!!! If I’d had the money and been able to justify it, however, I actually found a proper dress I’d have been willing to wear! I’m talkin’ proper British lawn/picnic party dress – something that would not have shamed the peeps at Ascot had-I-a-matching-hat kind of dress. Can you imagine?? *Shudder* :P

Anyway. Obviously, Jenny jumped on the bandwagon with this idea. I guess I needed something goofy to throw myself into and this was just the perfect outlet. I’ve been trying to drum up support for over a week – pleading and persuading that the idea isn’t really so bad and assuring peeps that they’d end up having fun in spite of themselves. Not many are all that keen, but I’ve acquired a very few converts, not the least of whom was my pal Bruce who was willing from the first time the idea was floated. (This is the same Bruce who tried to cheer me up that last awful ‘visa’ Monday by taking me out for lunch and a pint, but I couldn’t as I had to get my appeal sorted).

So, I’ve been treading the fine line all week between enthusiasm and obnoxiousness and, as I say, a few peeps have slowly started to come around. Bruce even went out and bought new shoes to go with his kilt (no it’s not a traditional one, though I’ve seen pics of it. This is the ‘lightweight’ one he has, designed to be worn to sporting events as evidenced by being paired with his Scotland rugby shirt). But then, disaster struck as he scheduled a business meeting for today and it turned out he had to work from home for it and wouldn’t be able to come in to the office.

I didn’t kick up a fuss, but knowing that my sidekick would be absent on the day made me a bit sad. Fast forward to yesterday when I looked up as Bruce walked in and he was all kitted out as he would have been today, had he but the chance. I head him tell someone else he did it because I’d been looking forward to the whole ‘dress-up’ day so much, and he wanted to make sure he participated. It was amazing! I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for ages! He endured a wee bit of teasing for it, but that must always happen. I feel a bit bad, actually, for Scots when they have their kilts on, as they are invariably ribbed or asked if they’re going au natural. He must be used to it, though, or else he’d never wear one.

Usually there’s a group of us who go to the pub for lunch on Fridays (only to end up there again after work, but we are always very responsible during work hours!), but yesterday we pushed it up a bit so we could celebrate Bruce’s extraordinary sense of fun. I was quite happy to hoist my half-pint and toast his good sportsmanship. If only I could say the same for the rest of the peeps in the office! Not many dressed up today, but there’s still a small core of us! Some of those who did really went for it. More pics to follow! 8-)

Happy Monday Jenny!

2009-03-02T17:24:00.004Z

My visa application has come back and been rejected, and I've heard back that I didn't get either of the jobs I interviewed for these past few weeks. Yay Jenny!

The appeals process for the visa has already begun. I spend a very long and frantic lunch gathering together additional paperwork and such and then sending it off. I have no idea what's going to happen now, or even if HR is going to allow me to keep working. The outcomes of several different scenarios leave me totally screwed, with really only one possible happy ending. It really feels like this appeal is my third strike. If this one gets rejected, I don't know if I have any other option than to move back to the US, which isn't the end of the world, but if I go I don't want it to be because of bureaucratic cock-ups such as those which have been the cause of both my rejections so far.

I'm trying to stay positive, but it's really hard. I'm in desperate need of a good hug and am feeling very much alone at the moment.

Limbo

2009-02-26T08:45:00.003Z

Randomness: I’m hosting a dinner/movie party with a few work peeps this weekend and, due to the lack of a car and my inability to carry everything back from the store I had all the groceries delivered to the house. I also used this as an opportunity to store up on bulk items like sugar and toilet paper and I noticed something. The 5kg bag of sugar I bought has a big banner on it that says “naturally sweet sugar”. How can it be anything else? Sugar, by definition – whether it comes from cane or beets or whatever – is naturally sweet. Anything else and it would be sweetener. So, what kind of selling point is that? Or is it something that average person just wouldn’t notice?

I would like to state for the record that I am not misappropriating work time to do this. I typed this post up at home last night, and as I’m plugging it online, I’ve not yet clocked in. So there!

Still no word on pretty much everything – job, interviews, or visa. The hanging around and waiting for the other shoe to drop is driving me a bit nutso. I had an interview last week, about which I’ve heard nothing. They seemed pretty antsy to fill the position, so I can only conclude that they’ve offered it to someone else and are just waiting for them to say yes before everyone else is let off the hook. Which is fine. It was a year-long position, but wouldn’t have been terribly challenging. If this is going to be my last year in England, I’d much rather do something difficult and enjoy it than play it safe and be a zombie day in/day out.

There’s another interview scheduled for Friday – this one with my current boss on the panel! – but I don’t really consider myself to be much in the running for that one. Three other people on my floor who kinda already do that job in some form or another are going for it as well. It’s a permanent position, as opposed to temporary contract, so it will be hotly contested and I’m not really all that qualified. I have a feeling I only got as far as the interview stage out of courtesy. Still, better to be 1 of 7 rather than 1 of 45!

The job I’d be most interested in, even though it’s a short-term contract, I’ve not even heard about whether or not I have an interview. I was specifically told to apply for it by the woman who’d be manager for the position, and I’ve sat down with her and had a talk about the job duties and all. I was just going nuts because the application was due almost 2 weeks ago, and they usually aren’t this slow about telling you if you’ve made it or not. But then she stopped by my desk again the other day to say that the application sorting program was down, so who knows when or if that’ll happen. Soon, I hope!

Anyway. My visa has now been expired for almost two weeks, as well. I’m still allowed to work as normal, but the uncertainty is awful. I feel completely unhinged just because so much depends on this working out, and I really don’t like dealing with such a constant level of insecurity. My chums at work are being really sweet and supportive in so many ways. Lots of peeps now deliberately stop by my desk to check in and see if everything’s ok, and some of the GIS guys have been really great about helping me self-train for this GINA position I’d really like to get, just so I can up my chances should I get to interview. I’ve been sent all matter of internet links to follow and last week one of them lent me a couple of reference books (whether or not I’ll actually be able to puzzle them out is another story!). If nothing else, this is why I want to stay here so bad. I’ve never worked somewhere where I can be proper friends with almost everyone I work with, where we want to take care of each other and are quite happy to go off and socialize all night after already spending the whole day together. I’m not saying it’s always happy funshine or that it happens more than once every week or two, but it’s nice to feel some sort of sense of family and community again. I think that’s why I’m so scared that it’s all going to come crashing down around me.

As several, more rational, people than myself have pointed out there’s not much I can do other than sit back and wait. Unless they are lying through their teeth, they all seem to have faith that something will work out so I guess I should too. It’s just hard. I start thinking about things over and over and get locked into one of those vicious negative cycles I’m so prone to, and once one of those is in full swing it’s so hard to break free. I need something to happen and preferably something really good ‘cause I have no idea how I’m even going to function if the worst happens. I mean, if I tried to appeal, would I be allowed to keep working? If not, how the hell would I afford the undoubtedly exorbitant fee they would charge to reject me yet again? How long would I have before I get booted out of the country? How would I get everything back to the States? Who would take all the things I left behind? I mean, I just bought a 5kg bag of sugar. I wouldn’t take it with me but that would take a ridiculous amount of baking to get through before I left – if I made that many treats everyone at work would be curled in the fetal position under their desks suffering from diabetic shock! I’ve been on a massive crocheting spree of late, completing 3 full-size blankets in the last 4 weeks. What the hell would I do with all this extra yarn!

I can’t help but think about all these stupid piddly little things. Even now I can feel that I’m working myself up to the point where I’m not going to get to sleep for hours. Ugh! I really am trying to be positive about all this, it’s just difficult when you are so powerless over your fate. For now, I’m just going to focus on getting through the week, and then preparing for my dinner party on Saturday (Mexican!). How sad is my life at the moment that I had to restrain myself from starting to make stuff up tonight? That’s how much I’m looking forward to this weekend!

But I’m still thinking about that “naturally sweet” thing. That’s going to bother me…….

I'm An Alien

2009-02-13T15:17:00.003Z

My visa officially expires today. I've had no word yet from the Home Office as to the status of my current application for an extension (the last I'm allowed to apply for before I have to be officially sponsored), but all I know now is that if they deny this one now I'm screwed - I'll have to leave the country in order to re-apply and the chances of my getting back in to work when I have no guarantee of employment past the end of next month are pretty much slim-to-none.

I know there's nothing I can do to speed up the process, but I HATE being this powerless over a decision that can and will affect my entire future. I want nothing more than to stay here and do my job, but who the hell knows if that's even possible. I've been trying SO hard all day not to throw a complete nutty - some of the people I'm particularly chummy with at work have helped a lot, but it's still quite an effort. I went out to lunch with some peeps to 'celebrate' my new immigration status of illegal alien, and the party will continue on after work (why we even paused in the festivities I do not know 'cause it's not like we're getting anything accomplished in the meantime. Everyone's trying really hard to be supportive and reassure me that everything will be OK, which just makes the whole thing harder, really, 'cause I can't help but contemplate the reality that I might have to leave this place.

We shall see, however. In the meantime, there really isn't anything I can do but wait and hoist my glass this evening. 1 hour until Pub O'Clock. Jesus! How the hell am I gonna make it through the next few weeks until I get word!

Snowbound

2009-02-06T09:40:00.004Z

No! I’ve not given up posting! I’m just busy at work (and it’s not exactly ethical to post there, as I’m doing at the moment [on a break!!!], and there’s no internet at the house anymore (or phone or tv/cable), so I’m a bit cut off from the world for the foreseeable future. Methinks I shall survive, however.

Not if this snow has anything to say about it, though! Anyone ever seen ‘The Day After Tomorrow’? Jeez!! It was funny on Monday when there were just a few inches and everyone lost their freakin’ mind. Someone referred to the few falling flakes outside as a blizzard, and the Swedish lady I share a desk with just looked at me and laughed!

Apparently, the snow in London on Monday was bad enough to disrupt London bus services for the first time since the Blitz, which is saying something. But, as the wonderfully snarky man who sits across the aisle from me pointed out, this (at the time) was only the worst snow storm to hit Britain in 20 years, so clearly there’s been worse and they’ve made it through unscathed. He sees it as testament to how soft the English are getting, I suppose.

So, this whole experience was fun to start off with. I’ve been complaining for years about how the English don’t know what a proper snowstorm is. Not that I was ever anxious to see one, as I’m not overly fond of the stuff, but I always did object a wee bit to headlines such as ‘South West blanketed with 5cm of snow’. By Monday/Tuesday, however, it was falling thick and fast. I called Mom (to gloat a wee bit) because if what was coming down had been rain, it would have been like standing under a power shower – and that kept up for hours.

By the middle of the week, I was willing to acknowledge that, the Swindon area at least, was in the throes of a proper, apparently unending, snowstorm. Fewer and fewer people were showing up for work as most commute in – some from Bristol, and I was starting to get worried about some of my chums who drive in. Suddenly, people were looking at me as if I was some sort of expert in how to deal with this mess, and the first thing I said was “Don’t drive!”. I swear, these guys dink around in their piddly little value cars, I’m not even sure they’ve heard of snow chains or traction control. Nobody in this country seems to know how to drive in ice and slush, so it’s just safer all around if they just stay home!

So, the past two days the office has been really quiet – pretty much restricted to those who live on town or to the few brave souls who venture out on the trains – which actually haven’t been that affected by the weather but for the first day. Today it’s a bit of a dead zone, though. I suspect that most of the Bristol peeps won’t even try for it, and even those who usually have no problem with their 45 minute daily walk in will think twice. I, living but 10 minutes away, have no excuse. Not that I really mind coming in as it’s not that big a deal and I have nothing better to do at the house, especially now that the replacement tv has packed it in and I can’t even watch DVD’s anymore. Besides, I kinda like slushing around in the snow. I’ve even considered going out into the backyard to build a snowman, but haven’t quite overcome my dislike of all things wet, white and fluffy just yet. Maybe tomorrow! :P

In the meantime, though, I’ve never been more glad of my new hiking boots! THANK YOU, ‘rentals! It’s actually not that cold out, so the snow very quickly starts to melt and go slushy (the word of the day, apparently) so slogging around is something of a messy chore. My feet, to date, have stayed warm and dry, and that’s a wonderful thing!

So yeah, who knows how long this will last. Theoretically it will clear up starting tomorrow and then the real melt will begin. Life has been somewhat put on hold due to this storm, so I’ll be glad when it can get back to normal. I was supposed to have people over last night to help me transfer the beds between my old room and the new one – which I’m completely moved into now and it’s quite comfy, if I do say so myself. I just refuse to use the bed that was up there as I know fairly precisely what’s been done and to who in that thing. I don’t even really want to touch it! But with the weather and all, that got canned – even if they hadn’t backed out I would have forbidden them to drive over anyway (see earlier comments!). I compromised last night by at least switching mattresses, and we can just deal with bed frames at some later date.

That’s about it for now. I’m rather impressed that I’ve managed to pound out this novel and provide pictures, no less. For anyone who’s interested, they are: a shot of the backyard, complete with forlorn tropical tree and the remains of one of my plants that was left out to die when I left for Christmas; a shot from the end of my street looking towards the brewery down the road; the building where I work (a converted railway works) and a shot of a rather forlorn looking parking lot. If I had the chance, I’d get a shot of the periodic avalanches of snow that launch off the roof to the now roped-off sidewalk below, but you can’t exactly predict these things, can you? Quite a sight to see, however.

Anyway. I should probably get back to work. It’s funny how much more noticeable it is that you’re slacking off when there are only 4 people in the office! :P

Working Lunch

2009-01-30T15:51:00.000Z

Never a good idea! I never take lunches if I can help it anyway – it’s breaks my concentration and I then eat when I otherwise wouldn’t normally. But when it’s a social thing and, in this case, used to replace our traditional Friday night bi-monthly pubbage, I can’t necessarily say no. Well, I can, but not without seeming like a huge grump. Besides, these are people I like to spend time with, and since I don’t necessarily within the parameters of work, why wouldn’t I make the effort?

The down side is that they just buy me drinks a) because I’m a girl and they tend to have a chivalrous streak, and b) because they like o see me tipsy. I don’t drink as fast as they do, yet I’m still expected to keep up. Invariably my drinks tend to be poured into someone else’s glass, but trust me, I’ve still had more than enough to put me off working for the rest of the day, and I still have 1.5 more hours to get through until my movie date tonight. Bleh!

So, not as word has been said about my 6-week hiatus. Not much to say, really. The less said the better, so far as I’m concerned. I’ll get into it at some point, but maybe not when I feel like I’m being such a whiney-pants. I finally feel like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and I’m revelling in it, quite frankly! So we shall just see how everything pans out.

Look at me being all cryptic! Really, it’s just that I’m doing this at work – having no internet at home now - and feel the need to dash off quickly. I’m determined to get SOMETHING useful accomplished this afternoon, otherwise I won’t have earned my fun tonight. Here goes!

Carry On Pubbing

2008-12-15T21:17:00.007Z

I'm still not going to talk about where I work or name names, but I am going to write a wee bit about how great the last few weeks have been at the office. It's not about the actual work, but more about the peeps. I feel like I'm starting to fit in and really make chums. Many of them have been really good to me and, ever since the work Christmas party in Bath (more later), have really opened up. I've been having a great time and it's made the wait until going home a lot more bearable.

Friday night, a night generally reserved for going out anyway, kinda doubled as a "Jenny Send-Off" party. This time around, the group of us didn't spend the whole evening at our 'local" but instead wandered up into Old Town and went to a cool place up there. I didn't actually drink that much (comparatively) but I did bring Gordon, which is just an invitation for highjinks. That may, actually, explain the shift in attitude towards me after the office party seeing as how I took LOADS of pictures and then stuck them up for everyone on the shared drive - a great icebreaker.

Anyway. I was just perusing through some of the 160 (count 'em) photos from Friday night and I came across this one. One of the people in it is my boss. The other is my new music and movie guru who has, among other things, recently opened my eyes to the wonder that is XTC. His next project is to educate me in the ways of a famous set of English slapstick-y dirty comedy films from the 60's and 70's known as the "Carry On" films. I've seen part of one on TV, but apparently must experience the joys of each on a proper projector screen such as K. has just set up in his living room. I already have reasons to look forward to coming back to Swindon. Who'd have thunk it! Much as I want to be home and with my friends and family, I have friends here waiting for when I return. The party has already been planned for the Friday I get back, and apparently a bunch of peeps are going to the same store where I bought my shirt so that we can ALL be Spartacus. :P

Just Sittin' Here....

2008-12-02T07:02:00.000Z

I’m at work exceptionally early today, in the attempt to rack up as much flexi-time as possible before I go home. It would also be very industrious of me if only someone could find something for me to do! Instead, it’s just me sitting here, in a very large open plan office, hearing nothing but the clackity-clack of my own keyboard. The eerie thing about being here this early is that, as time passes and no one else walks in, you start wondering whether you have it all wrong and this was really supposed to be a day off. Where IS everyone!!!

Randomness: I was cleaning out my desk (‘cause really, what ELSE is there to do!) and I found the following note on a Post-it:

TUESDAY: Find out why this is bothering me.

It wasn’t attached to anything, but taken out of context, it’s quite funny. I wonder what it was about Tuesday that made me write that. Hey wait… Today is Tuesday! Oh, hell! :P

Walkabout

2008-11-28T10:00:00.000Z

OMG, OMG, OMG!!!! I just booked a flight to Australia for two weeks next September! Freakin' AUSTRALIA!!!!I have NO idea how to pay for the trip and everything I’ll want to do once I’m there, but I’ve got a ticket there and back. On SUCH a high right now. Wheeeeeee!!!!!!

Anyone wanna come with?? :P

My Hero, My Dad

2008-11-26T10:00:00.001Z

***Pictures to follow as soon as my computer starts cooperating***

Despite all the drama and general suckiness going on, in addition to the fact I seem to have succumbed to some form of lurgy and feel like crap, I take this moment to pause and reflect on momentous events in the world around me, albeit, very very far away from me. Today, the presses have stopped and the Eagle has landed. On this day Charles Schultz, Robert Goulet and Tina Turner were born and, sooner or later, the world rejoiced. On this day, yet another illustrious person entered the world – mi padre. My Dad turns 60 today.

As I said in my Mom’s birthday message earlier in the year, 60 is nothing more than a wrinkly 30, and is something to be celebrated with wild abandon. All “0” birthdays should be treated as such, especially when you’ve had more than 4 or so. At that point, there should be an exponential growth in partying. Too bad, that probably isn’t going to happen in this case, but I can still imagine what it might be like. Sigh. All that lost potential. :P

Anyway. Since I can’t be there to mark this special occasion with my physical presence and a hug, I feel compelled to issue a verbal one in front of all of my five readers. It’s actually easier this way because now I can say things I’d probably never get the chance to say to his face. This is probably going to get all touchy-feely and mushy, but that’s the beauty of the internet – no one can see you blush.

Looking back to my childhood what I remember most about my father is his overwhelming presence – looming like a giant in my small world. I was very much a Daddy’s little girl for a good while there, and even the threat of letting him down was often enough to get me to tow the line. I was, and still am to some extent, so desperate to please, so terrified to disappoint.

I don’t deny that a lot of what my Dad represented to me was hard, and that I didn’t appreciate it at the time. He taught me the lessons of dedication, integrity, hard work and familial duty. It may sound old-fashioned, but that’s what works. These are the qualities I value most within myself (on the rare occasion they rear their heads) and strive hardest to improve, and the examples of which I’ve always found embodied in my father. I doubt I’ll ever find anyone who rivals him in that respect or in my estimation, so I guess I’m still Daddy’s little girl.

I don’t think I’m re-evaluating the past through rosy-colored glasses. We’ve definitely had our rocky patches (decades), at least from my perspective, but that’s to be expected. People will, of course, rebel against that which seeks to keep them restrained and my rebellion against my parents just started early and ended later. My point is, that if someone had told me 15 years ago that it was possible to be friends with my father I would have thought they were smoking crack! You can’t regret the tough times, though, because that’s what leads you to the happy ones.

My Dad didn’t just help give me life, but shaped the life I lead – the life, despite everything yucky at the moment, I love. Everything good in my life has come about because of my folks. I’m a reflection of my father; he sets the example I try to meet every day, and I’m a better person for it.

So, I guess this whole post has been a very inelegant way of saying to my Dad “Thanks for being who you are”. I love who you are; I appreciate who you are and (most of) what you stand for. :P Look around and see what a fabulous life you’ve created for yourself and with your family. It’s fantastic how many people there are out there who love you. I hope that truth gives you all the warm fuzzies I can’t be there to administer myself.

I hope you have an amazing day today, Dad. Happy, Happy Birthday. I love you lots and wish I could be there.

The Fit Hath Hitteth The Shan

2008-11-17T18:56:00.002Z

What a difference a day makes! Much as I would like to, I couldn't go the whole day yesterday sharing the house with the GF and not talking to her (I should mention that she has as little love for me as I for her). In the midst of our awkward conversation it came out that she's pretty much planning on moving in here until she and George move out to a place together in the new year. I was just a wee bit floored! I was already a bit squiffy about the fact that she'd been given a spare key to the house and I hadn't been told - am I wrong to think that only those who pay rent should have unrestricted access? I am also of the opinion that, if you're the gf/bf/guest of a housemate, you have no business being in that house when the other is not there. So, I actually stood up for myself and said something, which was a big mistake.

Prefacing it by saying that I wasn't trying to be mean, I asked if either she or George had even considered asking me how I felt about her moving in. I was told no, that I should get used to her being around and a part of George's life, and that the three of us could talk about it when he got back the next day. All right, fine. I went out for a walk, and the next thing I know my phone is ringing off the hook. When I answered, George started having a right go at me for "ambushing" the GF when he wasn't around, for making her feel unwelcome, and he said that as long as he paid the rent for his room he could have whoever in there whenever he liked. I tried to get my side across, in that this is a shared house, and she isn't just up in his room. While I don't expect them to shut themselves up whenever she's here, I was trying to point out that she does significantly change the dynamic in the house (I did not say negatively) and that affects me. Even if it's just a courtesy, I think I should have at least been informed. I mean, the last I knew she was supposed to be moving in with a friend of hers yesterday, and then all of a sudden she's here indefinitely. He told me I'd driven her from the house - that she was on her way to her brother's house, which was a complete lie because when I got back she was in with her feet up. I tried explaining things to her, but she kept saying that I should have said something the day before when George was home - forget the fact that neither of them had dropped the bombshell on me the day before, but whatever. It's useless trying to get through to her, because she always has to play the victim somehow.

The things I didn't point out to George were that, a month ago when she was staying here I asked if she was moving in, and he said no because that wouldn't be fair to me. A few days after that he was telling me that, for his own good, he needed to get as far away from her as he could. Now all of a sudden he's calling her his other half and confirming that they are moving in together when a few days ago he said he didn't want that. Forget courtesy, I'm just trying to keep up!

Anyway. George threatened me with moving out right away. I don't think he should - it'll be a huge hassle for me as well as him, particularly since I'm going away in a month for 3 weeks, and that's not really enough time to get a new person (that I feel I can trust) moved and settled in. We'd miss out on that whole get-to-know you period, and that would be weird. But, I'm not going to fight it, either. I looked around for new places myself, but there's nothing convenient out there I can afford, and I have it pretty good right here. He's supposed to get back from Wales tonight - I have no idea when - and maybe we can hash some stuff out then. Personally, I don't care what he does. I thought we were friends, but apparently not. He can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants, it makes no difference. I only have an issue when it has a direct impact on my life, and when this person stresses me out to the point that my chest gets tight at the thought of her being around when I get home, I don't need that. All I know is, the George who was screaming at me on the phone yesterday is not the guy I met when I moved in. I want HIM back, even if I could no longer trust him farther than I could throw him.

So, there it is. GF isn't in at the moment, which is the only reason I've been able to plug online and crank this out. I have no idea when George will get back or if he'll be alone, no idea if we'll be able to have a reasonable conversation and actually hash things out somewhat amicably. I feel better for having said something, though, despite the problems it's caused. My intention wasn't to make such a fuss, but maybe it's a good thing. We shall see. The Jenny Saga continues.........

Brutally Honest

2008-11-16T13:29:00.001Z

I know this is incredibly, painfully long, but if you’re at all interested in what’s been going on lately, please bear with me. I’ve been putting off writing about graduation and some other stuff because I wasn’t sure what kind of spin to put on it. Everything is so complicated these days, and while I don’t want to be completely whiny and pathetic and woe-is-me, I feel like I can’t in all honesty be Miss Happy Sunshine like I usually try to be. I don’t often slip into – I don’t want to say fits of depression, because that just sounds like I’m trying to diagnose myself – but I’m definitely in a serious slump, and it’s physically and mentally exhausting trying to be happy for other people all the time. If I’m not smiling or making light of things, people around me will often immediately jump on my case for being a downer. I can’t help but absorb the vibes of those around me, and they are almost always negative. Usually I can deflect it, but sometimes it just gets the best of me and I can’t shake it no matter what I do.

I will say that my recent graduation experience has a lot to do with how I’m feeling at the moment. I spent weeks, months, looking forward to it, I guess basing my expectations on how much fun I had up at Durham. I really wanted to celebrate this one because I worked SO much harder for this degree, and even if I missed out on a distinction I felt I deserved to be treated to some sort of party. Granted, I don’t have as many good friends at Bournemouth as I did at Durham, but I was certainly looking forward to hanging out with those few. I did have the growing sense as the day grew nearer that it wouldn’t be what I was building it up to be and that I would likely be disappointed, but I had no idea how badly things would fall apart.

Without in any way assigning blame – ‘cause you really can’t in this instance – everything first got shot to shit when my friend Sharron’s Mom had a heart attack the week before (she’s ok now and recovering slowly but well). Of course, this cancelled out every plan the two of us had made. Sharron was going to come to Swindon a day early, we would head down together and share a hotel room, have some good hang-out time, go to graduation and a really nice fancy celebratory dinner with Sophie and Georgina, go to Monkey World the next day and then head back up to Swindon before she left to join her family for a rugby game on Saturday. Obviously none of that happened. I had a non-refundable deposit at the hotel for a double room which they wouldn’t let me change to a single, so I had no choice but to head down to Bournemouth early and stay in an expensive double room by myself. The one thing they did do was let me cancel the Thursday night reservation, but that meant I had to find a place to crash for that night. Luckily, my friend Fran took pity on me and drove me back to her house in Swanage (about an hour away) and let me sleep in her daughter’s room.

The graduation itself was awful. I had to get there early to pick up my robes and such, but that just left me with loads of time to wander around dodging loads of students surrounded by their families and feeling completely pathetic and alone. I eventually joined up with some of the peeps from my course, but of the 16 of us originally, only 6 showed up for the ceremony, so it’s not like there was this big pool of excitement or energy to draw from. I tried to get into the spirit of things and put on my happy face, but really all I wanted to do was run away. I thought this was going to be some sort of grand celebration the like of which I would never experience again – I certainly don’t plan on getting ANOTHER degree, and since I’ll likely never marry, have kids, or become president of anything, what other opportunity am I ever likely to have to celebrate something really momentous in my life? But I did try to not feel sorry for myself, acknowledging that the day was not just about me and I shouldn’t project my bad feelings onto others. All that really resulted in was my getting really snarky at how stupid and pointless the whole affair was – to give you an idea, I spent the last 30 minutes occasionally poking Emma next to me because that was more fun than listening to the guy onstage talk about how cool the school was (forget the students!). The only good thing I can say about the whole experience is at least this diploma looks official, whereas my Durham one looks as if I could have printed it off on a bubble-jet printer.

So, yeah. Fran took me home with her family and kindly allowed me to spend the night at hers and attend the mini-party she’d organized. It really was very kind of her to include me like that, but I did feel like an intruder most of the time. The only other alternative would have been to stay the night in Bournemouth and go out with Sophie and Georgina, but as soon as Sharron was out of the equation, their plans for Thursday night changed from our going out for a nice dressy dinner to going out and getting completely wasted, and I just wasn’t in the mood for that. So, Swanage it was.

I almost couldn’t wait to get back to Swindon so I could talk everything out with George ‘cause I knew that would make me feel better, but here we enter stage 2 of Jenny’s Grand Saga, as even here things are falling apart. I was, as always, probably a little too enthusiastic when I first moved in about how cool things were here and what a great housemate George is. I just couldn’t get over how cool it was that there was someone in my house who actually didn’t mind when I was in it, which was a novel experience after the last few years. It turns out that a lot of that attention I was getting was a direct result of George’s being in the middle of several complicated women issues and I was just a convenient distraction.

I may be divulging too much personal info here, but in the interest of backstory I don’t really care. George has one ex-wife and one wife that he’s separated from, with three kids between the two of them. When I first moved in he was dating the personal assistant of his boss (the boss that just happens to be our landlady), but when looking at the two of them you had no idea why they were together. After a few weeks (and their break-up) it came out that George was involved in a very complicated secret affair with another lady from work who is also married, and when he was going out with the PA it was because they were on a break and he was trying to distract himself while she supposedly gave her all to her marriage.

To make a long story slightly shorter, things exploded about a month ago when she left her hubby and picked up with George again. She moved in for about a week, but after that both he and I were sick of her, and he was trying to talk her into reconciling with the hubby. Instead she went to her parents’ house, and occasionally snuck back to ours, but it seemed for a while like things were getting better. She’s from a conservative Indian family, so if they knew she was carrying on an affair, she’d be disowned, but I don’t have a whole lot of sympathy for her because she knew that when she started in with George.

Anyway. George started getting a bit quiet and distant with me a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure what the cause was – he has LOT on his plate with work and kids and all. Add to that the fact that I have no life and no real friends in this town, and I acknowledge that he may be a bit sick of me being around all the time. I’ve tried to back off and not be in his face all the time, and we’ve had a few talks about it, but he doesn’t often admit what’s bothering him. I have no idea what kicked off while I was down at graduation, but things were significantly changed when I got back.

George was supposed to go down with me – he said he felt bad that I wouldn’t have anyone there cheering for me and, even though I pointed out how much trouble it would be for him to get the time off work and get down there, he had me order him a ticket. As we got closer, a variety of different reasons were presented as to why he couldn’t go and, sensing that he was looking for a way to back out, I just let it go. But I was really looking forward to at least talking with him when I got home. Instead, it turns out that my time away initiated a two-day nookie-fest, the GF is back and he’s barely said boo to me for over a week.

I acknowledge that I can sometimes get territorial when it comes to my guy friends and other women, but this one is a piece of work and sheer bad news. George is a grown man and capable of making his own decisions, but I wonder at his taste when he’s chosen someone who will do nothing but drag him down and complicate his life beyond belief. She is incredibly selfish and self-centered, and has an ugly personality such as I’ve rarely encountered before, and she’s in my house all the freakin’ time! I feel incredibly unwelcome in the house when she’s here – very isolated and alone. She snips and snipes, talks about nothing but herself, and when I tune her out or do my own thing, complains to George that I’m the one making her feel unwelcome, which gets him tetchy with me. I’ve tried talking to him about it, in one of the few moments we’ve had the last week when she’s not around, but he doesn’t want to get involved.

On top of all this, George is defecting to another company and runs the risk of being kicked out of the house by his boss when he puts his notice in. The obvious answer to this given the circumstances would be “Good! There goes one source of stress”. But the thing is, despite this, I don’t want him to move out. I don’t see this thing with the GF (who is also now pregnant with her hubby’s baby and getting rid of it without even telling him) working out for very long, and miserable as I am now, I hold out the hope that things will go back to normal when she’s out of the picture. She’s pushing him to move in with her, but he’s said to me he doesn’t want that. If George goes, I know we won’t really keep in touch and I’ll lose the one companion I have in this town. Given my track record with housemates, there’s no guarantee I’ll end up with a winner in his replacement, and I don’t want to have to move myself in order to alleviate any personality issues. I’m limited in that I have no transportation other than foot or bus over here, so that really restricts where and when I can go anywhere. Since I have no life or friends here, it would be a really bad idea for me to live by myself since then I’d turn into even more of a hermit than I’m naturally inclined to be.

So, yeah, my home life is less than ideal and I feel that I can’t fully express myself because if I do it might tip George over the edge as to whether or not he’s going to move out for sure. I’m extremely isolated over here, with a number of close friends in this country I can count on one hand and none of them are closer than a few hundred miles away. I’ve tried looking for clubs or societies to join as a way of meeting more people, but nothing out there really interests me and what does costs money. I get on with some people from work, but they all have their own well-established lives, and I don’t feel yet like I can rely too heavily on anyone there. My job still feels quite pointless as there’s not a whole lot organized for me to do – that’s the problem, I guess, with having my actual bosses working in London and completely unaware of me out here in Swindon. I’ve applied internally for some other positions – I have an interview for one on Wednesday – but again, there’s nothing terribly exciting, it’s just work. I’ve applied for other jobs and for position back in the States, but in this current job market I feel like I should just be grateful that I have any sort of work and can still put a roof over my head. I’m incredibly unsatisfied at the moment, though, and am much more working to live than the reverse.

I’ve just spent a very long while complaining about the evils in my life, but the worst is actually yet to come, as all of the above have apparently resulted in having an incredible impact on my mental and physical well-being. I woke up in the middle of the night last week almost completely unable to move or breathe, with my heart pounding out of my chest almost. It was an absolutely terrifying experience and lasted the better part of 20 minutes. I spent the rest of the night trying to calm down, but felt terrible. I hadn’t even been at work for an hour the next day when LBM came in, took one look at me, and told me to go home. I did, under protest, but it’s a good thing I did ‘cause it happened again shortly after. A lady at work I talk to said the next day that it sounded as if I was having panic attacks. I tried getting in to see a doctor, but they wouldn’t let me because I hadn’t registered yet and that takes a week. So I went to the local walk-in clinic, where I sat with the unwashed masses of Swindon’s Finest before being seen by some form of nursing professional. I got a brief examination and was hooked up to a heart trace machine. The first time they ran it, the results were so screwy they just looked at me and said “that can’t be right”, which just inspired me with confidence. It was run again, and this time I was told that there was nothing seriously out of order. Apparently I’m having fits of palpitations that are irregular, but not so irregular that there’s anything to worry about just yet. If I have another “turn” that lasts for more than 30 minutes, I’m supposed to high-tail it to the hospital, but until then she said I should just get around to registering with the doctor and go see them.

So yeah. I’ve had “panic attack” and “angina” thrown at me, but have no idea what’s going on. It could be stress-related, it could be an actual physical condition. Even the doctors aren’t likely to be able to tell me what it is. I’m trying to deal with everything and let stuff go so I don’t get as wound up, but there are constant stresses in my life – one of whom is fannying around my house right now even though George is up in Wales - that aren’t likely to resolve anytime soon, so I just have to learn to live with them. An obvious answer would be to just cut my losses and run back home – forget the visa issues, no more housemate problems, get an apartment and a car and just do my own thing. But then I’d still have to worry about a job, and even if I moved back to Denver I wouldn’t be THAT much less isolated than I am now. When I was there before it wasn’t uncommon for me to go a month or more without seeing any friends or family. The out-of-sight-out-of-mind issues apply just as much in the US as they do here. Plus, despite all this, I do still LIKE living here on occasion. There may not be as much purpose for me being here as I would like, but I still sense some sort of opportunity that I would miss out on if I took the easy road home.

So, the heart of it is that I’m completely lost and burnt out, and have no idea what to do with myself anymore. I look forward to the little things – it’s about a month until I go home for Christmas when I can get some much needed R&R, family time, and hugs from my kiddies. George and I are hosting a huge Thanksgiving dinner here next weekend (which, even though the GF will be here for it, I plan on BEGGING him that I be free of her in the days leading up to it). But Jaime is taking the train down from Durham, Fran and her husband are driving up from Swanage, and Lauren is flying in from Paris, so I’ll at least have some friendly faces around me for a little while and can not feel so unbearably alone.

I know I have a personal journal for this sort of thing, but it doesn’t do me any good to put all of this out there where no one can see it and maybe offer some help or support. It’s not fair of me to dump all this on people, but everybody needs to do it sometime. I don’t necessarily feel better for it at the moment, but maybe I will in 5 minutes, or 5 days, or 5 years. Right now I just feel weak, because I can’t seem to deal with all of this on my own and I should. I just need some space and to sort myself out – I just wish I knew how.

Declarations of Independence

2008-11-05T09:38:00.003Z

I just had the rather uncomfortable experience of talking with someone who carried on his entire end of the conversation with my boobs. He never once took his eyes off them! And it’s not even like the ladies are out today – I’m wearing a sweater! It was quite disconcerting, though.

I went and had a quiet chat about it with a lady I’ve come to know pretty well at work. It was already established that this guy was hard to talk to, and I wanted to find out if one of his “issues” was that he can’t look people in the eye, or that he’s just a perv. Turns out it’s both, but more the latter and he’s been spoken to about it before. But that doesn’t make it any more acceptable.

The whole thing just made me really mad, though, and has put me off for the rest of the day. I almost want to try talking to him again, just so I could have the satisfaction of being, like, “Hello, jackass! My face is up here!”. I don’t know how constructive that would be considering that he’s one of the bigger big boss men in the office, but I will certainly stand up for myself next time - maybe that would make me feel a bit better. As it stands right now, I just feel a bit dirty. Definitely not cool, and definitely not what I need today, as it’s crazy enough. Grrrr……

And oh, hey yeah! We have a Democratic president again. Woo hoo!! I’m not sure when every English person I encounter will stop walking up to me and asking my thoughts on the matter – I’m hoping very soon. But at least they’re excited/involved. Personally, I’m actually not too thrilled about the whole Democratic president/senate/house of representatives combo, as I think there should be SOME form of dissention and debate in the legislative process, but at least (as far as I know) the Blues don’t have a super majority. But I guess if that’s what it takes to try to clean up this mess we’re in, the people have spoken! Good luck, America! I just can’t believe Colorado’s a blue state now!!!

Playing Dress-up

2008-11-04T20:39:00.012Z

It's only a few days since, and already Miss J. is asking me about my Halloween pics! Jeez, lady! :P

Not a whole lot happened this year, but it was a damn sight more fun and eventful than the last few years. I didn't have the money or inspiration to come up with some sort of cool and exciting costume - I was tempted to try the whole pineapple idea I've been kicking around for the last few years, but never actually sat down to try and figure it out. Instead, I settled on my pirate wench costume from last year and decided to kick it up a notch. I never much liked the corset I made last year, so I went online and tried to find an alternative. This research resulted in a work buddy coming home with me during a lunch break and duct-taping me into a t-shirt so I could cut it up and use it as a pattern. Since I have no sewing machine nor the ability to use one, I spend a week hand stitching it together, sewing seams and a hook-and-eye panel, and even putting in boning (otherwise known as heavy-duty cable ties taped into rigid sections. When finally assembled, it was pretty much a perfect fit, only requiring me to take some bits at the top so it fit better. It was quite an effort, but I was very proud of the result!

Anyway. The day before Halloween we had a mini-pumpkin carving event at work. Big Boss Man apparently dislikes the day (freak!), so while he was out at lunch a bunch of us carved up our pumpkins and stuck them on his desk as a surprise. I was quite pleased with how "Mack" turned out, but it was hard to get the good glow-y shot in the office, so I had to light my candle and stick him under my desk to get a proper picture. We weren't supposed to even light the tealights - them silly English and their health and safety rules! I finally pointed out to Little Boss Man (shown here, and YES! I have permission!) that the smoke alarm was more than 25 feet above my desk and not about to be set off by one little candle, so I went ahead and lit it anyway. Suckers!

Friday was the big Day of All Days - the absolute BEST day of the year next to October Daylight Savings (and I get them both in one week!!! Awesome!!!). Going to work was just something to be done - I only went as a way of passing the time until I could go home and get dressed up. George had said he would take me out on the town, though I wasn't too sure about the reality of that actually happening since he had to cover a driver's shift the night before and hadn't actually slept in about 36 hours come Friday night. But, being the good guy that he is, he was true to his word and came home with a zombie mask, which he then stuffed a clown nose into the nose hole of. I completed the outfit by washing my old clown costume and giving him a special straw to drink through, and then Mr. Good Sport and I hit the road (after he completed my traditional "Daddy" pirate tattoo).

Swindon town itself was pretty dead (pardon the pun), but we tried to make the most of it. We hopped round a few bars first - Costume-wise George got WAY more attention than me from both boys and girls alike. More boys than girls, though, which he was both amused by and a wee bit upset about. I tried to help him fend off the advances of one particularly drunk and amorous guy, but apparently I'm a terrible wingman! :P Must work on that......

So, yeah. We stayed out as long as we good, but eventually hunger and a lack of sleep drove us to buy greasy kebabs and walk home. I retreated upstairs to wash up, and by the time I returned less than 10 minutes later, George was already fast asleep on the couch still in the clown costume. I SO wanted to take a picture, but actually restrained myself from doing do. The next day, George told me he thought it would be funny if I had. Dammit!!!! Why, oh why did I resist my initial instinct!

And there it is!!! My best Halloween in a good long time. I'd say I can't wait for it to come 'round again, but then I'd miss out on the fun of looking forward to it. 8-)

Someone Needs To Listen To Me When I Tell These People To Stop Growing Up!!!!

2008-11-03T11:48:00.003Z

For the antsy-pants people whoa re already asking me (you know who you are! :P), Halloween post will follow at some point. I just can’t do it at work.

This quickie post relates to a certain small person who is turning 5 today – which in and of itself is just wrong. I don’t have any pictures of her less than 11 months old (again with the wrong-ness), so this one I randomly found will have to do.

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ABBYKINS!!!!!!

K6 Caped Crusader

2008-10-21T15:36:00.004+01:00

I’m well aware of how shamefully behind on my posting I am. I don’t understand where all the spare time goes anymore. Part of it is that I’m now living in a house with 47 million television and music channels, and once one sits down on our massive padded couch it is extremely difficult to escape its clutches until bed time. The other issue is that we don’t have the greatest internet service. Whereas in Bournemouth my computer was wired in 24/7, in Swindon I have to make an actual effort to hook up and sign on, which I usually can’t be bothered to do. It’s extremely easy to put everything off until the weekend and say I’ll write something up then, but that’s when I actually get off my butt and do something. The past few weeks that ‘something’ has included walks, helping one of George’s friends move, playing grease monkey, frenetic housecleaning, a solid 6 hours of dancing followed by two days sacked out on the couch watching rugby, and I went off-roading again the other day. Clearly, no time to blog!

So, I’m doing it at work now. And yes! Before you freak out, it IS my lunch break! They’re really starting to enforce my taking one rather than working straight through, which is a bit irritating ‘cause I’d rather just go home and start the slothfulness sooner (after my obligatory 1 hour on the exercise bike, mind), but oh well. They pay me so they make the rules, some of which I follow.

Anyway. I’ve been trying to keep a bit mum regarding the specifics of who exactly I work for – not that most of you don’t already know – just in the interests of maintaining some semblance of professionalism. But that kind of gets in the way of me saying pretty much anything about what I do to occupy the days. So, without actually naming my workplace, I figured I’d just go ahead and describe what I’ve been up to and how I’ve earned my new title.

I actually have several projects on progress at the moment – most of them extremely boring and nothing that a trained monkey couldn’t do, but I knew all that when I signed up for this contract job (which, for those who haven’t heard, has been extended through the end of the fiscal year [March, 2009]). But one assignment got dumped into my lap a few weeks ago that I’ve had loads of fun with and now, sadly, is coming to an end.

See, British Telecom decided that they would save money by taking out about 11,000 of the lesser-used pay phones throughout the country. The problem is, these were those iconic red phone boxes you find all over England, and many local councils, village residents and parish officials were not about to let their neighborhood’s only claim to fame go quietly into that good night. So, in order to prevent BT from proceeding with their self-imposed deadline of 1 November to start ripping those boxes up, loads of towns and villages have applied for protected status of their kiosks – referred to as ‘K6’ as that’s the brand or model of the most common type of phone box.

My main job lately has been to go through the applications, map out exactly where the box is located and see if there are any listed buildings in the vicinity, as this is one of the criteria by which these kiosks can be protected. I then write a little report as to whether or not the box should be listed and then the whole pretty packet gets sent on to someone who actually has the authority to make such a decision. I’m not saying that any recommendation of mine will play a part into whether or not a K6 is saved, but I’m still putting my all into justifying why it should be. Out of the many, many reports I’ve compiled, I’ve always managed to come up with some reason, no matter how obscure, as to why that particular phone box is special. I’ve done internet research, called local residents, even conspired with district conservation officers to find any excuse at all. The best one I’ve come up with so far is that National Trust might flood a protected area and return it to wetlands and if that happens, the southern boundary of that will end up a few hundred meters from a kiosk located in a one-road village with 11 houses of no historical importance whatsoever. I argued that increased tourism brought by the extended conservation area will be enhanced by a feature of architectural and cultural significance. Will it work? Who knows. But I’m sure trying, for damn sight!

As such, I was bestowed with the title of ‘K6 Caped Crusader’. My LBM started it by passing on to me a little foam K6 kiosk he’d been given a few years earlier. I drew a little cartoon, and the lady who sits across me improved upon it. I showed that to George who, on the day I told him about the afore-mentioned case which ate up the better part of a day to research, went out and bought me my phone box ashtray/paper clip holder shown up above. It’s probably a good thing that the whole project is winding up, or else I’d end up as swamped with this red kiosk stuff as monkeys!

It’s all pretty cool, though, and I like to think that I might be helping make a difference/save some of these things. George was the first to point out the irony however, since followed by many others, at a Yank fighting to help save icons of English heritage that British Telecom wants to destroy. He finds the whole concept a bit frightening. I think it’s funny. At the very least, I now have a hook-up, should any actually be torn up, so that we can try and rescue it from the dump and add an interesting new feature to our back garden! 8-)

Steamrollered

2008-10-09T14:30:00.000+01:00

So.... Even though I never volunteered for it, and no one can actually remember who said I was in charge, I’ve apparently been tapped to plan this year’s office Christmas party! They just forgot to tell me about it until I asked why people were giving me suggestions!

I barely know these people – how have I already earned the reputation of a magic party planner?

Mud Bandits!

2008-09-22T17:05:00.010+01:00

I spent most of this weekend getting ready for and going off-roading at a place near Swindon called Foxton, which was FAN-freakin’-tastistic! I went with George (always, now, George!) and his friends Graham (right) and Andy (left). Graham is George’s work partner and mentor. It’s really sweet what close friends they are – George calls Graham “Dad” and they take endless care of each other. Since they are both really great guys that care has extended to me a bit since I’ve moved in, and now I get included in with a lot of the stuff they do in their free time. Stuff which, this weekend, consisted of going off-roading. Andy is Graham’s neighbor and his wife/partner Claire was supposed to come along as well, but they didn’t think it would be very practical to expect their 1-year old daughter Freya (such a CUTE chubby-drooly thing!) to really enjoy a full day out in a muddy field with not many toys or distractions, even if we all took turns playing with her while everyone else went out.

So, George bought a Range Rover earlier in the week, partly because it seems his other 4x4 may be beyond repair, but also because I think he wanted something a little different. The man goes through a LOT of cars – he’s 29 and says he’s owned about 100 so far, mostly ones he’s fixed up and sold on, but still!! Anyway, after picking this mud-encrusted monstrosity up on Friday, Saturday was pretty much spent checking it out and trying to get it fixed up in preparation for Sunday’s outing. Here is the now-famous George and his hammy smile as he tries to sort out some sort of problem – I don’t know which. There were actually quite a few – something about a plug that didn’t fit and then trying to sort out a tow bar of some kind since the Rover isn’t technically legal to drive on the road (doesn’t that make you feel good, Mom? :P). Mostly I just stayed out of the way as George and Graham did their tech-y speak – something I’m used to after having spent so many years hanging out with IT geeks and gaming nerds.

Given the extent of my knowledge re:the inner workings of a motorized vehicle (i.e. – put key in and turn ='s car move) I was pretty much useless for any actual repair work. I was, however, put to work digging out encrusted mud from the brake linings and suspension coils – using an electrical screwdriver for lack of anything better! To give you some indication of how massive this vehicle is, at one point all three of us were comfortably (if not in comfort) stretched out underneath it with much room to spare.

So the fixing was Saturday but the driving – oh! The driving! – was Sunday. We had a beautiful day for it, too. Much of the past few weeks (hell! The last few months!) it has been very cloudy and cold. The guys were a bit worried it might rain and make some of the more fun mud and water holes impassable, but instead it was sunny and warm all weekend – quite perfect, actually. Foxham is basically just a (quite pretty) great hilly field in the middle of nowhere. There’s an RAF base on the other side of the woods, and people just take their cars and moterbikes all over just to see if they can. Many of the cars get stuck or break down – most of them are towed in on trailers, so those participating are at least guaranteed that a functional vehicle will take them home again! We saw one Land Rover that was just completely totaled and turned over on its side most of the day!

Despite appearances – most of the drivers I saw take prodigious good care of their vehicles. Until the moment the car finally packs it in for good, there’s not much an owner won’t do to keep it going, even if that means giving the radiator CPR to get the water running through it again! All this loving care and attention didn’t do very much good, however, as the Rover suffered overheating problems all day. Pretty much every time we stopped there were great billows of steam issuing out from under the hood. Not to worry, though. We just let her cool a bit, topped up the water, and set off again!

Graham and I did a few funs in his little Suzuki first. He’s notorious for going full-tilt and, thus, getting stuck and needing a tow. That’s another reason, actually, why George needs the Range Rover – his own Suzuki died towing Graham out of a big hole last time they went out. So it was no great surprise that, within about 5 minutes of Graham and I striking out on our own we needed rescuing TWICE. It was great!

This here may not seem like it would be a very hard puddle to get through, however what you can’t see is the giant great drop-off right in front of us.

This is the angle shown on the indicator when we got stuck nose-first in said puddle and I was almost standing up in my seat in the cab. Also shown is the view I was faced with when my nose was almost pressed up against the windscreen!

Andy took my camera off me and got one of the car as the guys were hooking the winch up to drag us out - see me in there smiling and trying not to fall out of my seat. 8-) Sadly, it turned out that some sort of bit had cracked up or de-threaded or something, so the little car was, as usual it seems, rendered out of commission.

Once the Suzuki was out of the picture, we all piled into the Rover and (except me) took turns driving like mad people. We encountered no end of cars that managed to get stuck in their various holes and puddles – some of them quite spectacularly. I’d say that’s half the fun of something like this. When someone’s really in a pickle, loads of other cars just roll up and everyone starts troubleshooting until someone finally gets them out. Having the biggest, most powerful vehicle there meant George was often out hooking up to tow cars a ways. And yes, more than a few comments were directed his way about over-compensating for something! :P He lost a few bits off his car over the course of the day, but I don’t think anything really serious. I almost faceplanted in a giant sucky mud pit trying to retrieve a broken piece of fender, but managed to recover. Another casualty of going full-tilt in the Range Rover was the driver side windscreen washer dispenser but, not to be deterred, George just hopped up on the hood and wiped it down with his shirt!

If I’ve done it right (which I doubt), here and here are video clips of two of the runs we did.... You may have to go to high-def in order to view them properly (I can't believe I've stooped to the evils of YouTube!).

Because Fate is a cyclical little bitch it was inevitable that, after pulling so many vehicles out of mud all day, it became our turn to get well and truly stuck. On our last run of the day George just went for all manner of stupid mud pits and holes, the result being that once again we were nose-first in a giant pond of muddy grass and water (I’m a little disappointed that the picture Andy took of us chopped our heads off!). A lot of drivers had gone home by this point, but most that were left came over to try and help (you can see the cavalry coming in the background of this one).
Even then, it took 45 minutes of deliberation, 6 failed attempts, and eventually 3 Land Rover Discovery working in tandem to generate enough power to drag us out. I think part of the problem may have been that the car brought most of the pond back up with it!

And that’s pretty much it. I had an amazing amount of fun, and can’t wait to go again. Apparently this goes on once a month or so, so hopefully I won’t have to wait too long. I must make more of an effort to get dirty next time – even though I was slogging around a bit, I didn’t get anywhere near as messed up as everyone else. I guess the title of "Mud Bandits" is a bit misleading, eh? Heh heh! Anyway, Graham even made mention about teaching me how to drive a stick shift so that I can have a go on a run. I guess the cars are designed to get beat up, so it doesn’t really matter if I mess up! I have to say, that would be awesome. This was almost as good as riding rollercoasters all day, just not quite as amusingly violent. :P Definitely a thumbs-up, though, and I’m so glad I got the chance to go. Who’d have ever thought I’d become a high-octane adrenaline junkie?? :P (NOT!!!!)

Loki's Meat Puppet

2008-09-22T15:20:00.001+01:00

It’s been over a week now, so I think I can actually bring myself to talk about what happened the Tuesday before last when I was well and truly Fate’s bitch for the day. You know, some days are just days, but then there are times when you just HAVE a day, and this was one of them. By 10am I was already of the mindset that life would be a whole lot easier if I’d just commit hari kari and have done with it!

Ok, enough set up. The short version of all this is that my junior boss and I arranged to go to London and meet the people who are actually in charge of the short-term project that is my job. But since when have I ever stuck to the short version? :P The long version involves a tale illustrating how thoroughly I proved to Little Boss Man (LBM) what a complete freakin’ retard I am!

LBM was off that Monday, so the Friday before we’d made all our plans to meet up on Swindon station platform and ride over to London together. No problem. I had my tickets and train schedule all written down in my day planner. I had my timings all worked out. I woke up on time and made something of an effort with my hair, etc. I was even ready to walk the 20 minutes to the train station until I realized it was pissing it down with rain. Usually at this point George would have insisted on driving me, but he was off at an early-morning meeting, but no problem. I’d researched bus schedules and knew I’d get there in plenty of time.

In retrospect, leaving the house was my first mistake. :P Despite umbrella and hoodie I got drenched on the way to the bus stop, so I know I was doomed to spend the rest of the day looking like a frizzy-haired yeti. When I got to the station, the bus driver forgot I’d rung for him to stop and just sailed by, not letting me off until 2 blocks further up, so again with the wet. Also, as previously mentioned, my hiking boots are full of holes and no longer watertight. Joy.

Once on the platform, LBC was nowhere to be seen. Knowing that he’d been best man at a wedding that weekend and taken Monday off to recover from the inevitable hangover. I figured he was just running slow. But then the 0811 pulled up and he still wasn’t there, which was cause for alarm. Rather than us both miss our previously scheduled train, I hopped on and sent him a text asking where he was. I’ll admit, I was feeling a little smug about the fact that I was at least responsible enough to make my train. That feeling didn’t last very long.

I got a response from LBM about 5 minutes later saying he was waiting for me on the platform, which was when the first “Oh, shit” thought popped into my head. You see, lately I’ve had a bad habit of carefully writing down details down in my day planner and then completely disregarding said details in favor of those I KNOW to be right in my head. Sure enough, when I pulled out my ticket I saw that my booked train was due to leave Swindon at 0833, not 0811. And now I had to tell my boss I was on the wrong train.

Because the National Rail peeps are generally complete drips, if you’ve bought an advance ticket you aren’t allowed to ride on any other train, even if there are loads of seats available. So, I texted back to LBM that I had to get off at the next stop and wait for the right train to catch up with me, so I’d meet him then. He laughed my mortification off and said “no problem” (I’m not such a big fan of that motto anymore!). So, I sat in a cold, drippy station for 10 minutes, stewing in my embarrassment, until the next London train arrived. LBM had told me to just find a seat and we’d meet up in Paddington, so I grabbed the first one I found facing the right direction and settled in. No problem.

About 10 minutes later I got another text from LBM saying he was pulling into the station but he couldn’t see me on the platform. At this point, my thought was not “oh, shit” but “Oh, f***king hell, not AGAIN!”. But yes, folks. I’d hopped on the wrong train...again. And it’s not like I could have lied about it because what if he’d come looking for me? It’d be fairly obvious pretty soon that I wasn’t there! So I had to send a text to tell him what I’d done AGAIN, thinking at this point that if it were possible to fire someone for sheer idiocy, I’d be out of work in a heartbeat.

I managed to work myself into a pretty good tizzy by that time I got to Paddington, not helped by the 10 minute wait for LBM to show up. It got even worse when I saw that he was dressing in nice pants and shoes rather than his usual jeans and sneakers. The then seemingly obvious fact that the London offices were a bit more dressy than ours only then occurred to me. I was frizzy-haired and dressed in damp t-shirt, jeans and my aforementioned leaky hiking boots. LBM had neglected to tell me anything different and I suddenly realized that I was going to spend the rest of the day victim to that very subtle psychological disadvantage that comes from being the least presentable person in the room. This on top of clearly being out of my wits.

As if this wasn’t enough to equate a truly bad day (at this point it was only 10am), I then proceeded to have a minor flip-out on the Tube. LBM wasn’t entirely sure of where he was going, but I count myself to be reasonably familiar with the underground. Familiar, that is, when I remember not so much what stop I’m aiming for but where I actually got ON. That sort of thing really helps when your brain starts screaming at you that you got on a train going in the wrong direction. I actually convinced LBM to get off – we had out feet out the door – before he just looked at me and said “Jenny”. In that tone of that one single word I knew he’d never trust my judgment on anything ever again.

Why is there never a pit available to swallow you whole when you really need one? You should be able to depend on that sort of thing!

Anyway. There really is a good deal more, but even now when I can laugh about it all, I just can’t bring myself to go on. Whatever Master of Fate was pulling my strings last week made a right good hash of that day. I don’t think I’ve ever felt less in control or secure in my ability to make sound rational decisions. Still, there are bright sides to all this. I did not go home and immediately start eating, drinking or baking – my usual three reactions to stressful situations (aside from indulging in a nutty). I took a shower and washed the day off me, made a hot cup of tea, and was able to laugh about it by the time George got home. My boss still thinks I’m an idiot, but I can manage that day by day. Besides, somewhere out there is the golden jackpot of good karma, and that thing has my name written all over it! I just gotta be patient to reap the reward! :P

Domestic Goddess

2008-09-22T11:50:00.001+01:00

I’ve taken the day off work today, so I really have no excuse for not catching up on posts (other than crappy-ass internet connection, that is, so I may write them all up, just not actually get them online). I’m actually motivated to get them done today though, which is not something that can really be said of the past few weeks. I think I’m still on a high from this weekend. That, or I just want this crushing weight of self-imposed obligation off my shoulders so I can start building it up again over the next month.

It may seem a bit soon for me to be taking time off, but the thing is that I’m only required to work 7 hours and 12 minutes a day, but have the flexibility to work pretty much whatever hours I want. Because I can’t fathom a 9-4 work day when I’m usually wide awake by 6am, I’m usually in just after 8am and stay until well after 5pm, usually not even stopping for lunch – just because that’s the sort of day I’m used to putting in. Consequently, I’ve accumulated a lot of flexi-time, only two days of which I’m allowed to carry over into next month. So I’m forced (yeah, FORCED! Twist my arm!!) to use up my extra hours before they all disappear.

I don’t quite know what to do with myself! I’ve already been to the store first thing this morning – I have quite a bit of baking to do for various folk. I’ve been writing and although I’ve not been able to get our wireless router magically working I have somewhat managed to sort out the hash that Barclay’s has made of my new bank account (I was on the verge of a heart attack for a few hours on Friday when I found out that my old account was emptied before the new one was set up, and as a result they could find no trace or record of my having any money there!!). I’ve tidied the kitchen, cleaned out the fridge, re-plumped the cushions on the front room sofa and fed the fish (have I mentioned we have a GIANT, like 150-ish gallon – fish tank? It’s GREAT!). I should do the upstairs bathroom except I’m really not enjoying the prospect of cleaning up after Nigel – ugh!!

I’m doing laundry and have even hung washing up on the line. Yes, dear readers, I have been reduced to using a clothes line after all. :P We have a washer/dryer combo unit in the house which both sucks (mechanically speaking) and uses energy like you wouldn’t believe, so I have conceded to hanging shirts and jeans and stuff out on the line as long as I’m allowed to dry what George refers to as my “smalls” in the machine – much like the bargain we struck that he would rinse dishes after washing them (SO many English people don’t, and I just don’t understand that ‘cause otherwise you’re eating dried soap!) as long as I promised to try and get out of the OCD-ish habit of only eating off of my one set of dishes consisting of a blue plate and a green bowl (something I must admit I don’t often succeed at, but I just like the colors!).

Anyway. There’s still a bunch of stuff I can do, but even with my list I feel a bit at loose ends just because I’ve done a lot already and it’s not even noon. I think I’ve peaked too early, but I have to keep the momentum going otherwise I’ll just sack out on the couch and be perfectly useless for the rest of the day. George added Sky movies to our package a few weeks ago, on top of the 500+ music and TV stations we already have – I think at this point the only channel we don’t get is Nollywood, which is Nigerian cinema, so the temptation to be slothful is tremendous. Y’all should be very proud of me that I’m downstairs typing this and have not turned on the “media system” ( I swear, it takes up to 4 remotes to get going – I’ve barely figured it out!).

So yeah. Maybe instead of sitting here writing about what I could be doing I should actually DO it! I have my post from this weekend almost reading to go. Who the hell knows when I’ll ever finish the damn zorbing one! It’s been sitting out there in the ether so long I’m really starting to hate the thought of it, even though I had an absolutely spectacular time. I should probably just have done with it so I can get it out of my life. Blah!!! Here goes......

High-Pitched Juliana Rides Again!!

2008-09-19T11:58:00.001+01:00

Ahoy, me hearties!!! Today be International Talk Like a Pirate Day! I finally remembered!

I’m sitting at work, at the moment, dressed in a (neat and clean) pirate monkey t-shirt, I have me pirate monkey sitting on my desk guarding me pirate treasure (otherwise known as the costume jewellery ring last seen when I dressed up as the Queen of Hearts for Summerball). The lady who works at the maritime archaeology desk even sent me a bunch of the more thrilling pirate shipwreck case reports she’s worked on. I’ve even run a bunch of my co-worker’s names through the Pirate Name Generator online – thus today’s title. The best I’ve seen so far is ‘Pirate Bill the Sword-Test Dummy’. :P I highly recommend you all have a go, as it’s great fun.

In other news, I know I’m terrifically behind on my posts – I have several written, just not typed up yet. Delays will continue, at least through this weekend, as I will be having far too much fun to sit on my butt and type (except for maybe tomorrow morning) as George is taking a bunch of peeps off-roading in his new 4x4. He says I can even have a go at driving – the first time I’ve been behind the wheel in almost a year. Woo hoo!!!

Anyway. Three cheers for Pirate Day!! So set yer sails in search of booty, hoist yer flagons o’rum and keelhaul all the scurvy landlubbers that try to tell ye nay to this great, grand day o’celebration!!! YAR, matey!

Working Girl

2008-08-31T21:48:00.000+01:00

There are going to be a couple of posts now, written on the train down to Bournemouth for Zorbing (ZORB!!!), for lack of anything better to do. Jenny pulled a Jenny and packed her book in the depths of her backpack before burying it in the luggage compartment. All that’s left is me, some paper and a pen – so what do you expect??!

Anyway – I have yet to really detail what I’ve been doing at work these last few weeks. Mostly because I’m still not sure myself, and neither are my bosses! :P The easiest way to explain is that, back in 2000, a project was started to take a picture of every single listed (historic) building or monument in Britain. I have a feeling that photographers were just handed a list and told to go for it. Needless to say, they couldn’t find all the places they were looking for.

What probably happened in most cases is that the buildings/monuments were destroyed either by natural forces or by developers of modern structures who bribed councils to turn a blind eye. Apparently it’s cheaper in this country to just pay the fine for illegally tearing down a listed site than it is to apply to do it through proper channels! I’m so not surprised! :P

The problem is that these buildings are still officially listed, so there may be other people crashing around the countryside looking for them and, when not finding them, getting cranky with Heritage Protection peeps. Fast forward 8 years later (can you tell this is a government job?) and enter Jenny! My job to start with, and already accomplished, is to write all the local councils where monuments couldn’t be located and request official notice as to their status so a report can be sent in to get the list updated.

I’ve had a few responses already, as well, which is pretty good although the attitude I get is pretty amusing. People are either incredibly helpful or incredibly snarky. I had one guy challenge me a bit about the need for his report to be on official letterhead, and I had to pull rank. If only he knew that I had no rank to pull! I may be higher up on the governmental food chain, but have no authority to speak of, whatsoever!

So, yeah. Part of my job is compiling this report. Another part is updating/transferring a few thousand listed cases on the databases, and the rest is still unspecified.

It occupies the days, however, and provides with that all-important paycheck. The peeps at work are friendly, if still a little bit wary with the new girl. There possibility for some sort of advancement or lateral transfer, but even if there wasn’t Swindon is apparently the sort of place where you have to try really hard to NOT qualify for a job. George works for a recruitment agency (which just happens to be owned by my landlady) and without even having seen my resume says he could probably get me a job – maybe even in a forensic lab in Oxford – making twice what I do now. Even he admits, though, that that’s more a job for making money rather than for having fun. It’s cute, though, that he keeps trying to find options so I can stay on if my contract isn’t renewed in 3 or 6 months. But it’s reassuring to know that I HAVE options – a sense of security I’ve really been missing of late.

So! THERE is the description of my job in a nutshell the size of a small Volkswagon. Enjoy the tasty goodness inside. I know I do! :P

Surprise of the Day

2008-08-31T09:47:00.000+01:00

I’ve been paid already!! You could have knocked me over with a feather this morning when I got to work and the lady at the security desk asked me if I’d like my pay slip (She and the mail guy like me already – I brought cookies in the other day and made sure they got some. Guess what their nickname is for me now! :P). But I can’t believe I’m quasi-solvent already! My contract said that I’d be paid a month in arrears, which I assumed to mean what it did at Bournemouth – that I’d be paid at the end of September for these past two weeks work in August. But, no! Score one more for EH – they actually pay you for the work you do when you do it!

So, yeah. I can pay my rent now. Not that I couldn’t before, but now I can do so without my balance dropping below the level where the bank fines you. I really must change that, but the hoops involved for non-British peeps are truly ri-damn-diculous. Just changing addresses to the new place will take about 6 weeks – hardly useful if I actually needed a statement for something.

Anyway. Things are continuing to look up, which feels like a refreshing change (though perhaps not a justified one) from the past year or so. I just mean to say that I feel like I can be content and belong somewhere again, which is not necessarily something I had in Bournemouth a lot of the time. I like going to work – not necessarily because it’s all that interesting but because it’s good to feel useful again. I like wandering around town and carving out a little niche for myself. I like being home because I’m finally living with someone fun again and am not made to feel as if I have to hide out in my room. It’s just a good all-around thing and I’m really enjoying it. Of course, it could all come crashing down at any moment, but I’m not going to think about that right now! 8-)

Another thing to be thrilled about today is that there’s another Seattle-ite in the world! Jessica gave birth yesterday to the lovely Miss Charlotte Amelia. I’ve only seen the immediate post-birth pictures so far, but how can a combination of Mark and Jessica be anything less than gorgeous? I mean, really! I’ve been all giggly and squeal-y ever since I heard the news. It’s just not possible to be anything else when you hear about new cute chubby drooly things.

So welcome to the world, Miss Charlotte. It’s a good one this week, and I’m sure glad to be in it. I hope you are too!

New Digs

2008-08-23T09:15:00.005+01:00

So, I know I've been fairly mum so far about the whole Swindon experience, but mostly that was due to a lack of internet access at home, being wrapped up in the whole experience, and the need to process a bit. The short of it is, after almost 7 whole days, I am SO feckin' happy to be here!

There are, of course, complexities and issues, not all of which I'm sure yet I have the freedom to discuss, but overall they don't yet affect the general relief and happiness I feel to finally be out of Bournemouth and have my feet on a path of some kind. Poor maligned Bournemouth! It's really not such a bad place. It just came to embody all the feelings of bitterness and frustration associated with my inability to find steady employment and my general friendlessness. Would I ever go back there to live? Probably not without a really good reason. Is Swindon the be-all-and-end-all answer to all my problems? Definitely not, but it's certainly a fresh start in many ways - a chance to get some working experience, to meet new people, to change what was a very unhealthy living environment and also to reinvent myself a bit and get on a better, healthier path. I feel somewhat refreshed at the moment, which isn't something I've experienced in a good long while.

Anyway! Yes, I moved up last Saturday. Sophie showed up with her big yellow car and we proceeded to stuff it to the gills. I was AMAZED that, with only a little juggling/forcing/kicking of bags and boxes, we were able to fit everything in. The car was stuffed to the gills, though, and I had to have a pile of stuff on my lap the whole way. I was tremendously hungry before we even left the house as I'd spent the previous week eating the dregs of my cupboard and fridge so there'd be less to move. My meals the day before consisted of a bowl of rice and peas! So, we stopped for lunch on the way up, but made it to Swindon in surprisingly good time.

No one was at the house when we arrived, which felt a bit strange and like I was just taking over. As soon as the car had been unloaded Sophie drove me just down the road to the grocery store, where I bought even MORE bags of stuff to unpack! She stayed long enough for tea and to envy the remarkable selection of digital tv channels the house has to offer - 500+, at least! - before leaving me to myself. Just as she was going though, one of the housemates arrived home.

Enter George! I think I'd forgotten after this past year that it was possible to enjoy the company of someone you live with, but George is a hoot! That first weekend was a bit odd because he had his two little boys staying over - sweet kids, but they just created a totally different dynamic. We just seemed to click, though, and already are sharing cooking/house duties and pooling grocery bills and such - he's already elected himself my chauffeur should I ever need to do a big shopping haul, and has offered free use of his bike should I wish. He seems really easy-going and, barring some unforeseen drama, I think we'll really get on while we're here. We've already fallen into the habit of having a good chat after dinner and watching the Olympic highlights until the bloopers reel is done, at which point it's time to hit the sack. Being comfortable with the other people living in my house is definitely a novel experience.

Nigel is the other roommate. I also met him that first night, albeit very briefly, and have since not yet spent more than about 5 minutes in his company. He's very reclusive, but not to the point of creepiness like some people. I think it's just because he really only sleep here during the week while he's working, and just waits to go home at the weekends before really living it up. He doesn't even really cook - just eats lunch at his workplace and then makes a sandwich when he gets back here. So, I'm sure he's nice enough, I just don't know him at all.

So yeah. I spent most of that first night unpacking and getting as organized as I could. There's no proper desk in my room for my computer, which is driving me a bit nuts as I just have little boxes and piles along one wall, but the rest of the room is already all comfy and home-ified. I gave up at one point and drifted downstairs for some Olympics and dinner - everyone esle had left again by this point - but couldn't get either the swanky tv or decrepit oven to work, so I basically went to bed bored and hungry. Not, perhaps, the best way to start my life here, but everything was right as rain the next day, so I don't begrudge the house at all. :P

Blah! I think I'll save the whole work experience for another blog. Until then, I shall sit ensconced on a very comfy couch, have some tea, and bid my housemate good day as he appears downstairs - which from the sound of things will be quite soon. 8-)

My Friends, My Enemy

2008-08-19T19:01:00.002+01:00

I've written several times extolling the virtues of my hiking boots and the places they've taken me. So comfy and secure, I have wandered chunks of Europe and the States with nary a care for my feet. There may be only a few dozen days in the last 2.5 years that I haven't worn them - despite what people claim they are an extremely versatile shoe and good for almost any occasion. Some may feel it's ridiculous for someone like me to even own a pair of hiking shoes, and that I'm somehow degrading the recreational walking community, but I don't care. I LOVE my boots!

It's been a slowly dawning realization that my friends are beginning to wear down under the (considerable) weight of Jenny's lifestyle. No, literally! You can tell I walk on the outsides of my feet because the shoe heel is worn down to a diagonal line - when I come back to them after a few days of other shoes I feel tilted. But, the leather is pulling up and you can sometimes see my socks through them, so they are clearly no longer watertight. Getting caught in a sudden downpour on my way home from work (WORK!!!) today was enough to prove that.

The problem is, these boots are irreplaceable. These perfect boots have ceased to be manufactured, sloughed off to the side by some inferior "improved" model. They are still made in women's sizes, which conveniently end a half-size short from what I need, by the men's version can barely even be found except on sites such as e-bay, and then the shipping charges are extortionate. I've TRIED looking at other brands/models, I really have, but nothing matches to comfortable perfection of my Montrails!

And they know, they KNOW that their inevitable demise approacheth. I don't WANT it to happen, but it's coming, and they've started to take their revenge. These perfect boots, which I never had to break in and which have carried me faithfully across many a varied terrain for years in warmth and comfort have TURNED on me! 5 miles a day through Italy? Nothing! 5 minutes walk from the Outlet Center to my new house? Blisters galore! Pain and achiness. What has haappened? What is to become of me? Am I going to have to settle for some ordinary shoe because I can't find a boot that rivals that which I had and remember fondly?

Curse you, beloved boots!

Would You Believe....?

2008-08-15T10:22:00.003+01:00

For the past two years I have lived within an hour of a place called "Monkey World" and never been???

Shocking!!!

I also, despite efforts to de-crap my life such as mailing boxes of books and monkeys home and taking bags of stuff to the charity shop, am now worried that everything I've packed up for the Big Move tomorrow is not all going to fit in Sophie's car.

That is easier to believe, don't you think? Where has all this come from!!

Packing Up

2008-08-14T09:04:00.002+01:00

I'm in the final stages of packing up my room - at the point where I stop carefully organizing everything into separate boxes/containers and just start throwing miscellaneous crap into plastic bags. It will make the unpacking take a bit longer, but I just don't care anymore. It should only take a few hours to get decently settled, and I'm going to have almost the whole weekend. As long as nothing breaks I'm happy.

This week started off a bit manic with lots of appointments and things, but has settled down. That, or I'm walking around in some sort of surrealistic fugue state due to lack of sleep brought on by my Olympic obsession. The house here has digital tv, with live coverage on 6 different channels, so I don't have to wait for evening highlight shows to watch just bits and pieces of the events I enjoy. The flip side of that is that I've been getting up around 2am all week for stuff like swimming, diving and gymnastics, so I've really only been getting about 2-3 hours of sleep a night and maybe a hour's catnap in the mornings. It's getting a bit like walking around in a dream! But, the Olympics are only once every few years and, I must say, I am reveling in the BBC coverage with no commercials. Over 4 hours of the Opening Ceremonies and not a single ad. Glorious!

The other bonus of catching all the sports coverage in the mornings is that I'm left with the rest of the day free - thus with the packing almost done and pretty much all the chores completed that I can handle. There is still some shopping to be done, but I can't bring myself to spend any more money for a while. I managed to save 75 pounds by electing to not get my TB vaccination, but Kenyon may force me to go through with it if I want to get on their volunteer list. I think it's ri-damn-diculous if they do, though, because I had a long talk with the TB nurse at the hospital, and he told me that, when administered out of infancy, the vaccination is over 80% ineffective. Plus, it's not that easy to catch it to begin with - he said that the highest chance of contact exposure would come if I was locked in a room with an infected person coughing ON me for about 8 hours. Even if I wasn't smart (or hygienic) enough to get out of the way of that, the chances of my actually contracting TB would still be quite low. On a 3-week disaster relief rotation, even in a location where the disease is rife - he said the likelihood of my contracting TB was exceedingly minimal. The UK government has absolutely no faith in the vaccine and has stopped requiring or subsidizing it, but won't condemn it outright as a sort of cover-your-ass thing. I think for Kenyon to force something like that on a volunteer is insane, and I'd much rather sign a waiver or something. It not even about the 75 pounds, really. I just don't think it's right to force people into injections they don't need and that have an 80%+ failure rate.

Anyway. I gave myself a little treat last night. I've been wanting to go up to London for the stage production of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" for over a year not - particularly because there's a specific person I want to see in it - but the timing/cost of such an adventure has never worked out. So, I took the next best step and got a ticket to see the road show version here in Bournemouth last night. It was a great seat, and I had a really good time. It's quite a laugh. I must say, having listened to my CD version so very many times, I was quite dissatisfied with the girl doing the Narrator, and also with Pharaoh/Elvis, but the supporting cast made up for it. I still want to see the London version, but I can hold out for a good while yet.

That's about it for now. I move up to Swindon in Saturday, and start work on Monday, both of which I'm really looking forward to. I'm not sure yet whether or not internet has been set up in the new place, so it may be a while before I can post again, but I'm sure to be back on soon at some point - I can't go TOO long without internet anymore. So sad!

Go, Speed Racer!

2008-08-08T11:16:00.002+01:00

Utter chaos the last few days. When I first got my offer it seemed like I had so much time before I actually started working, and now here I am a week away from moving. Where has all the time gone?

I've been running around crazy trying to get stuff sorted. Packing is going well, but I've run out of boxes, so I'll have to stop by the convenience store across the street next week. The guys there like me and will give me a few if I catch them on the right day. I have appointments at the hospital as well to get the last of my shots - TB test and jab for the bargain basement price of 75 pounds (Ugh!). Then I can get all that paperwork in for Kenyon and officially be someone who never gets called out for work.

Last week I had the horrifying realization that I own little other than jeans and monkey t-shirts and so would have to invest in a "work wardrobe". The very thought of me having to buy office-appropriate shoes and a handbag nearly sent me over the edge, until my frantic texting got a response from a friend saying that "smart casual" meant basically anything other than blue jeans and sneakers. So, cargo pants and hiking boots are fine. Phew! Still, I had to address the whole top situation, so I went off and had a torturous shopping experience in which I spent an obscene amount of money (for me). I think people would be proud of me - not a monkey in sight. I may just be able to pull off looking vaguely professional, even if I'll undoubtedly feel like an alien. Jenny don't do dress-up.

There has been lots of other running around - quests for a day planner and new hiking boots (both unrealized as yet), deposits paid for the new house and for the hotel rooms I was frantically pricing and trying to book for graduation in November (easily realized as people are more than willing to take your money, especially when you don't have much), as well as friends to visit and more packing. Yesterday I went down to Swanage for the day to visit a chum and we had a grand ol' time. It was weird, though, because even then I couldn't slow down and get my mind out of overdrive.

I thought Wednesday night was going to be a bit of a break and went to see "Mamma Mia" with...well, with a bunch of strangers, actually - friends of other friends who are out of town. Dreadful movie! Absolutely terrible! Meryl Streep is annoying, Pierce Brosnan hammy, even Colin Firth couldn't make it more enjoyable and I think I'd dislike it even if I was more fond of ABBA than I am. The only redeemable moment came during the credits when the guys came out in their little jumpsuits. It must be a generational thing - I can understand why women "of a certain age" would enjoy a film that brings back memories of their so-called wild and crazy days, but it just didn't appeal to me at all. Every woman over the age of 40 in the theater seemed to enjoy themselves, though, so I guess it can't be all bad.

Anyway. More craziness awaits in the days to come - Swindon, Salisbury, more shopping (ugh!) and more packing. Must remember to take the last dose of my cholera vaccine. I still have to sort out getting my new house keys and making sure my "moving van" is still a go. I feel like I'm going full tilt and can't slow down. Maybe I should just take the day off and watch the Olympics! :P

Jenny's Play Date

2008-08-03T01:17:00.001+01:00

I had an exceedingly uncomfortable evening on Friday, in what can only be described as a play date.

Some back story is in order. For those of you who already know all this, just skip to the next line of stars.

*****************

I currently live with 3 other rent-paying housemates, plus some freeloaders. There's Richard and Sara - the disturbingly close siblings - and Chloe who, among her many foibles is a professional victim and reclusive to the point of creepiness, thinks she's a cat, showers in the sink, constantly leaves her messes out for other people to clean up and is generally one of the most annoying and disgusting people imaginable. In the house we more often than not also have Richard and Sara's other sister Amanda, who has pretty much taken to living in our front room rent-free, and Sara's boyfriend Marcus. So, it's basically their house, and Creepy Chloe and I just rent our bedrooms (of which mine is significantly bigger than hers) and are allowed to use the kitchen. Needless to say, it's been a bit awkward most of this past year.

Anyway, while things are often tense, I've actually been getting along great with Richard and Sara of late either because I'm moving out and we all see a light at the end of the tunnel, or because we are all uniting with our mutual loathing of Chloe, who never does any housework (seriously! It took her 7 months to clean our bathroom, and even then it was a half-ass job) and, as of last week, didn't even know which trash can was for trash and which was for recycling. We are all completely fed up with her and, while I don't want to be mean, I have to admit I go to extraordinary lengths not to have to talk to or even see her.

Chloe, who once oh so tactfully told me that she couldn't wait for me to move out so she could have my room, had a bit of a hissy when she found out that Richard and Sara were automatically giving it Amanda. She actually crept out of her room long enough to give an ultimatum to Sara saying that if she didn't get first dibs then she was leaving. Not being the most intuitive of people, she probably thought Sara would cave instead of jumping at the chance to get Chloe out of the house. So, yeah, she's moving out a week after me, and the other two are practically dancing. Chloe has not helped household relations with the ad she posted when looking for a new place, which Richard found online, calling us un-hygienic weirdos - a statement we all feel is a bit rich coming from her!

I am getting to the point here. I've mentioned before that I've started hanging out lately with the two guys who scheduled my hours at uni - mostly going to movies. They are both Portuguese, and really nice and funny, especially this guy Andre. It just so happens that they are friends with Chloe too, even though she didn't talk to them at all last year. Every now and then they'd ask me about her, and I'd just say something to the effect that I thought she was fine, but we don't really talk so I didn't know. I was basically trying to be tactful and not slag off one of their friends. Andre did ask me what was going on more specifically one, and I did make it clear that we really don't get on, but I still held back on my overall loathing. Maybe I shouldn't have...

*****************

I got a text Friday afternoon inviting me over to Andre's house for a movie night, which was cool enough. It's about a half an hour walk away, but that's not too bad. Just before I left, I found out Chloe was supposed to go as well, not that it occurred to her to offer me a ride (this girl drives her car across the street to go to the gym!). I arrived about 10 minutes before her, but as soon as she came in the door, Andre hopped onto Skype to talk to his wife, who's away in Colombia for a few weeks, for about 45 minutes. He told us that we should decide what movie we were going to watch, but that he thought that it was important we discuss and do it together. So I was just left there to make the most awkward small talk with this girl I live with but can't even work up a shred of desire to care about what's going on in her life. There's always some big huge drama going on which she is the victim of; she's always dropping dark hints about her problems, but I have a very perverse streak in that the more effort someone puts in to try and get me to ask them what's going on in their lives, the more I refuse to. I have no patience or desire to deal with professional victims.

The quick wrap-up to this exceedingly long and complicated story is that Andre and Chloe had met up previously that afternoon at the gym and planned this evening for the three of us. Andre, being the nice guy that he is, thought he was engineering some quality time for me and Chloe to spend together - like a parent getting two kids with issues to play together. Chloe, being self-absorbed as well as clueless, thought my unwillingness to listen to her pour her heart out had something to do with the almost perpetual tension going on with pretty much everyone in the house. I tried to be respectful of the fact I was in Andre's house and he thought he was doing the right thing, but every minute I spent either deflecting Chloe's attempts to get me to inquire into her latest tragedy or watching movies while she sat next to me constantly petting and stroking her hair (!!!!) was pure torture.

I feel I did manage to be civil and as pleasant as I could be. I can't bring myself to be angry at Andre, who just suffers from the nice guy disease in thinking that everyone can get along if they just talk through their problems. Not having heard my whole side of the story, I don't think he realizes just what a nightmare Chloe is to live with. If he did, I don't think he'd try something like that again! I just hate that I'm put in the position of having to deal (again!) with someone I genuinely loathe, only it's made a 100 times worse by the fact I've had to live with her for the last year. I don't like having to be insincere and pretend that everything's bearable just for the sake of appearances (Yes! I know this is the real world and everyone has to go through this sort of thing, but that doesn't mean I have to like it or refrain from complaining about it). I swear, I could never survive in politics!

But, it's almost over and, in the grand scheme of things, not that big a deal. Two weeks from today I'll have moved up to Swindon and be meeting a whole new set of roommates (yes, I've chosen a place - whole 'nother story, very little drama). Theoretically I'll only ever have to see Creepy Chloe one more time after that - when we go zorbing with Andre & Co. at the end of the month - and then that's it. Soon this will be a distant memory and series of funny stories, on par with those I have of Thornton and PHB (teaching her dogs to pray with her, etc.). I will survive. :P

I just can't believe I had a scheduled play date with her!

House Hunting

2008-07-27T05:07:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was a bit of a nightmare day. I went up to Swindon to look at a load of houseshares to try and find a place to live for the next 3-6 months, and karma decided to take a big old bite out of my ass. I'm not sure what exactly I've done wrong of late, but the end result was that it took almost 6 hours for me to get back down to Bournemouth. The travel curse strikes again!

The houses themselves were less than inspiring - I was able to find something wrong with all of them. It could just be that I'm picky, but when it comes to your living environment, I don't think that's such a bad thing. I don't particularly want to live in some derelict cookie-cutter house with a bunch of slobs who apparently never clean the kitchen. I prefer a larger bedroom as I do have a lot of stuff (though I'm cutting back - I spent a few gut-wrenching days packing up 4 boxes to mail home at a shocking price, including HALF of my stuffed monkey collection!). But I also just don't like feeling hemmed in by walls, and a tiny room stuffed full of a double bed and furniture with no room to walk is not my cup of tea. I fully recognize in this respect that I've been thoroughly spoiled my whole life, but I can't necessarily help that that's what I now prefer. I've proved that I can live in small spaces, but that doesn't mean I want to if I don't have to.

What I find really odd is the number of people over here who are shocked that a "routine" request for any place I inquire about is whether or not they have a clothes dryer. I find it shocking that I even HAVE to ask, but that's REALLY not something I'm willing to live without if I don't have to. But a lot of people I've phoned sound amazed that I want one, often citing the waste of energy as a reason not to have one, and informing me that the clothesline is a perfectly acceptable and environmentally-friendly alternative.

Don't judge me! I'm not an eco-terrorist! I'm just not a hick! I don't really fancy hanging all my particulars out for the world to see for hours at a time, and I don't get how a country that so collectively moans about the rain/lack of sunlight can have a leg to stand on when then advocating the sun as a means of properly drying clothes. You can't have it both ways, people! Besides which, I've discovered that it costs the same amount to wash a load of clothes as to dry it, so I don't see how 5-6 loads a month makes that much difference in the grand scheme of things. Bite me, people, and gimme my dryer!

Anyway. Of 8 that I looked at, only 2 were vaguely acceptable, but not all that desirable. One house had nice enough folks, a really nice kitchen and living area, and a decent room, but no dryer and it was much further out than I'd hoped to be, meaning I'd have to catch a bus rather than walk, which I'd like to avoid. The other place had a dryer, but suffered from the same location problem and had no living area. It was basically just a collection of en-suite rooms sharing a kitchen and laundry facilities - much like the student accommodation up at Durham only fancier. The rooms were very pricey and ground floor with windows that looked right over traffic on a busy road. Blah!

So, I think I'm going to have to line up some more places and spend another 40 pounds to go up there and have a look. I know from experience that if I can't vaguely enjoy where I'm living, I'm not going to like my time in Swindon at all. A self-contained place really isn't an option, especially for a short-term lease - it's just to expensive. Plus, I'm enough of a hermit as it is, in a city where I don't know anybody, I really need to put myself in a situation where I'm forced to socialize with people.

But, yeah. I left Swindon just before 3:30pm, and was fine until I got to Reading for my connection, which is a whole 1 stop. I thought I was lucky because the train down to Bournemouth was delayed and I could make it, rather than waiting almost an hour for the next one. Yeah, right! We creeped our way down south before stopping altogether in Brockenhurst, which is only one stop from Bournemouth. There we sat for TWO HOURS because the train ahead had broken down and they couldn't figure out how to move it. At one point, we were all off-loaded onto the train on the next platform, while ours was sent down to try and tow the broken one back, but that didn't seem to do much 'cause we still just sat there. We finally got moving again and pulled in just before 8pm, but by then I'd missed the regular bus services up to uni, so I did a bit of a grocery shop and then waited...and waited...and waited...because the bus turned out to be almost 30 minutes late. I didn't get home until after 9pm! Ridiculous! I need to remedy whatever it was that I did, 'cause I don't think I can take another day like yesterday! :P

Concerns

2008-07-21T10:33:00.006+01:00

In true Jenny fashion, I read the instructions/side effect pamphlet for my cholera vaccine after I took the dose. At the bottom it states: "do not take if you are allergic to formaldehyde".

Formaldehyde??!! Otherwise known as embalming fluid?

Did I just drink embalming fluid??!!!

Celebrations

2008-07-20T10:00:00.005+01:00

I should have posted this up yesterday, but I really couldn't be bothered. I spent most of the day online looking for flatshares and trying to familiarize myself with Swindon via the internet. A part of me feels like I'm tempting fate by doing this, since I haven't actually signed anything and have only been offered the position - a phone call isn't exactly official, is it? But I can't not do this, as I feel completely unprepared as it is.

Anyway. My word, but did I drink some terrible wine on Friday night! I decided on my way home to start the tempting of fate by inviting a few peeps down and imbibing a few, so I hit the ASDA (UK version of Walmart) across the street from the train station before I caught my bus back up to uni. I'm usually quite picky when it comes to wine, even though I don't know anything about it, but as my Dad pointed out when I'd called him with the news, I was a bit hyped up! As a result, I decided to go only for wines that had funny names, sticking mainly with my beloved Australians.

This picture doesn't include the bottle of Cawarra Chardonnay I had before anyone arrived - quite tasty, even though I'm not fond of whites, but it wasn't too dry which is my main objection. Heather and Georgina brought the Balance one - I think it's so sweet they decided to join in! - along with a very nice card. I did feel a bit bad for celebrating in front of them considering Georgina got rejected from a job she'd been gunning for about an hour after I got my news, and Heather's just been dumped by her f***wit boyfriend, but as they themselves said, my wee party was just a prelude to their version of therapy, which is to get their groove on in some sweaty nightclub in town. So they could be happy for me and make themselves feel good at the same time. Sophie was supposed to come down as well, but chose instead to stay at home and finish her exceedingly overdue dissertation. Geez! Where are HER priorities!! :P

Verdicts! The Cawarra, which nobody else got a sip of - was good. Heather and I started in on the Crackerjack next, which was OK, but a bit dry for my taste. It was all downhill from there. Perhaps you will notice that on the two bottles in the middle, it doesn't actually state what KIND of wine it is, just that it's white. Because I'd received looks of horror and disgust from my housemates (who I don't think have stopped dancing since I said I was moving out, and Creepy Chloe has already told me she's glad I'm leaving so she can have my much bigger room, even thought the other two say there's no chance in hell for that) upon seeing my selection of Blue Nun (they just couldn't understand the spirit behind my selection criteria)... Wow! Terrific run-on sentence there! Anyway, because we were told it was so bad, we decided to go for the Blue Nun next, and I must say, it was every bit as horrific as I'd been told. My word!

I could only drink one glass, as could Heather before she begged me not to make her finish it. I've never had a bottle of wine so bad I had to pour the rest down the drain, but there's definitely a benchmark now! We couldn't go on after that - anything else would have been tainted, rather than improved, by comparison. It was time for the dance fest to begin, anyway. So, the girls headed off into town and I cleaned up the remains of our takeaway Indian feast, left a few drunk messages/e-mails for people and still managed to be in bed by midnight. That's my kind of party! :P

YEAH, BABY!!!!

2008-07-18T19:14:00.001+01:00

Now, see. I have pages of notes and comments I was scribbling down over the course of the day - I don't know what it is about train journeys that sets my so-called creative juices a-flowing, but the tap was on full blast. I was all prepared to get home from my interview, immediately change out of fancy gear into my more slob-like attire, and set down to type it all up as a way of decompressing from what I felt was a fairly depressing day.

But then, as I sat dozing, I heard my phone ring - a big no-no on the train, but I was expecting a call so I committed the faux pas of answering. And there followed what I've been waiting for all these months. After all the doubt and uncertainty and wondering what the hell is so wrong with me, I finally got the call.

I HAVE A JOB!!!!! It certainly ain't THE job, but it's A job, which is really all I care about that the moment. Details will be posted as soon as I have them - theoretically I will get an e-mail on Monday. But, yeah baby!!!! I'm not a shiftless bum anymore!!!

Woo hoo!!!!!

Round 2

2008-07-14T10:30:00.003+01:00

Post #401 - the pressure's off! There's just something about them round numbers. :P

I just got back from getting another round of jabs for my immunization requirements. The Hep B one hurt a lot more than last time - apparently because it was a single dose and not combined with the Hep A - but it still wasn't SO bad. I now also possess a +12 Shield of Defense against Polio, Tetanus, Diptheria, and Yellow Fever, and got the Rx renewed on my scary-ass crazy horse needle of an EpiPen for my bee allergy. All that's left now is another combined Hep A/Hep B and TB; am still debating on whether or not to start the 3-shot Rabies course. I'm sure it's useful, but also damn pricey.

I have to go to the hospital for the TB shot, but since that's a live virus, it can't be done within 3 weeks of the yellow fever shot, and then I have to keep that arm injection-free for 3 months. Crazy! I also enjoyed the bit of news that, by being innoculated against yellow fever, one of the rare side effects was that I can actually come down with yellow fever within the next 4-5 days - just in time for my interview on Friday!! Joy! I know it won't happen, but I can just imagine walking into a room looking like death, and saying "Oh, it's fine. I've just got an infectious disease of the 3rd World"!

Good news! It turns out I'm not as stupid as I think I am! I found the saved job description for said interview - finally! I'm not an idiot who forgot to save it, just the one who creatively renamed the file and then forgot I did so! Good thing I found it, though, because I sent an e-mail to the scheduler asking if there was anything I special I should do/be aware of in preparation for it - thinking back to my "packing test" for the Science Museum - and she wrote back that, as she assumed I was aware of the job duties, I should be fine! Eeek! But anyway, at least now I won't feel quite so in the dark on Friday.

Just as a side note, and yet another shout up to the health system in this country. I'm not complaining, mind you, especially considering almost all the treatment and shots I've received has been pretty much free (minus the taxes I pay, of course). I just find certain aspects of the system to be particularly useless. I came home from the clinic and found a letter from the county health council saying that they'd been informed I'd been ill the week before last and had some tests run. Enclosed was a pamphlet describing my symptoms. Just in case I wasn't already aware of how I was feeling, I guess!

Anyway. For now, I'm all dosed up, complete with official certificates, ready and prepared to venture off into and survive the wilds of the world as soon as I'm called upon to serve the victims and families of disaster. Or Swindon for my interview, since that's more likely to happen first.

Memorialization

2008-07-13T09:17:00.002+01:00

I've actually had lots of piddly little things to say the past 10 days or so, but really couldn't be bothered to put fingers to keyboard. It's not so much laziness, as that I was otherwise occupied with completely useless tasks - mostly job-hunting or work-related. But I have has a lot on my mind of late, whether significant or not.

The week before last marked the 5-year anniversary of my so-called blogging career, but since I started this whole thing as a means of coping with my grandmother's impending demise and other unbearables in my life at the time (*cough* TPD/PHB), that wasn't necessarily something I've been eager to commemorate. I really can't believe I've been posting this long seeing as how, previously, my record for keeping a journal of any kind was about 7 days. I'm still not certain why writing about my personal life on a computer and publishing it on the internet is so much easier for me than handwriting in a book hidden under my mattress, but there it is.

I was also searching for something significant to write about for this particular entry because it just happens to be post #400 on this blog. I thought that meant it should be at least something vaguely interesting, but apparently my brain right now has other plans! As a consequence, it seems I've decided to mark the occasion by writing something so trivial it has just wasted three minutes of your life in the reading of it! What a way to celebrate you, my few and faithful readers! Sorry about that. :P

This Time Last Year

2008-07-07T13:51:00.000+01:00

ITALY!!!!!!

*sob*

I Could REALLY Hurt You Right Now!

2008-07-04T12:54:00.004+01:00

Let me begin by issuing a hearty, resounding "FECK YOU!" to the person who, years ago, first laid out to me in great detail the extreme pain incurred when undergoing a Hepatitis B injection. I was told that it hurt so much because they had to use a large bore needle and dig deep down into the muscle in order for it to be effective, and then the offended arm was pretty much useless for a good day or more afterwards. Already terrified of needles to begin with, this description gave me the heebie-jeebies so bad that even as an adult, yearly offers for a highly recommended and fully funded course of immunization from the Police Department couldn't tempt me to even consider the process.

Since I had to go back in to the Dr.'s office today for a blood draw, I figured it was about time to get started in on all those immunizations I wrote about a few months back. I was, of course, petrified at the thought of becoming a pin cushion, and the consultation meeting I had with the nurse first didn't help much, as she mapped out exactly how many times I needed to be stuck over the next several weeks and in what order. I kept telling myself to stop being scared and get on with it, but I couldn't stop looking at the pile of needles in front of her with horrified fascination - hoping that the size of the Hep B one wouldn't send me screaming out of the room.

And it was NOTHING! Abso-fraggin'-lutely nothing! It was like a bee sting - though not really, 'cause a bee sting could, actually, kill me dead. But it was just a weenie little prick and then over, after all those years of quite literal fear and terror. Maybe needle technology has changed over the years, but I'm more inclined to think Mr. Storyteller Man was just taking the piss, and SEE what that did to me? I'm EXTREMELY gullible and have an overactive imagination - you can't DO this to me, people!!

Serendipity

2008-07-03T00:44:00.003+01:00

Well, I've had a singular night! I actually left the house, for one thing, and spent the evening in the company of adults who weren't out to get completely hammered! T'was great! I'm flying high at the moment, mostly because I'm hyped up as one can only get when they've spent hours laughing at one of the worst movies ever made. Bad movies usually make me really angry, but this was so magnificently ludicrous I was laughing and screaming at the screen almost the entire time. Luckily for me, only the person next to me heard me shouting "What! WHAT!!!" and "Oh, come on!", as the sound was turned up really loud and I was usually screaming during the loud action sequences anyway, but he didn't mind at all 'cause he was doing the same thing.

I knew nothing about this movie before walking in and sitting down, which is exactly how it should have been. What little plot "Wanted" has is ridiculous, and if I'd known that the main premise was based on a group of assassins founded by some weavers 1,000 years ago and controlled by the Loom of Fate, I'd never have paid my whopping £2.75 for the ticket. Suspension of disbelief is not even an option because you'd have to suspend your entire grip on reality and the universe as you know it. This movie is pure feckin' madness, and I've not laughed harder or longer in a very long time. For that, I shall always love it, and probably get me a copy when it's released on DVD, just so I can relive the fun, albeit without the endless run of insane surprise plot twists and rip-offs from other movies ("Luke, I am your father!").

What a night!!! See, we were supposed to see "Hancock", but it was sold out, so we went for "Wanted" instead, mostly because we knew based on tv ads that we'd be able to mock it. But now, I don't think I can bring myself to see "Hancock" because, even though that's supposed to be bad as well, I highly doubt it will be able to top tonight for sheer entertainment. I can't believe how much fun I've had tonight - and to think the only reason I got invited along was because I stopped by work to tease them about when they were going to assign me another week's worth of steady work! What a freakin' night!!!

When One Door Closes...

2008-07-01T17:46:00.003+01:00

Well, I just heard back and I didn't get the job. I am disappointed, because both the job and the living in London would have been REALLY nice, but I'm also a little relieved that I don't have to suddenly spring into action with the finding a place to live in 4 days and all. Besides which, I still have an application in to the Science Museum for one job, and in the process of applying for another, so I may still end up there. You never know.

It's also not all doom and gloom today, however, because I also got an e-mail this afternoon requesting my presence at an interview in Swindon in a few weeks time - a 3-6 month job working at English Heritage doing something with archaeological databases. At least, I THINK that's what it's for. When I went to my big massive Jobs Applied For folder, where I save the ad for every position I apply for, I discovered that I apparently didn't save the ad for this particular one, so I really have no idea what it's all about! Methinks I shall be flying by the seat of my pants for that interview! It doesn't pay as well as the Science Museum, but Swindon is nowhere near as expensive as London. I'm not going to count my chickens, however. I shall just take it as it comes.

I'm still applying for jobs all over the place. While feeling ill and whiney upon my return from London on Saturday night I did call my Mommy and say that, if I didn't get this job I was seriously considering packing up and moving home, rather than wasting another 3-6 months (and all the associated costs of rent and living). I still think that's a valid option, but can't very well justify leaving before this next interview. I've spent much of the last few days, however, focusing on jobs back in the States, just to see if I'll have any better luck back there. I did find one job that I'm very remotely qualified for but am comforted by the thought I likely won't get. I think there are a few people out there who understand why the notion of working and possibly living within 10 miles of Arnold, MO horrifies me a wee bit. :P

So yeah, that's about it. I'm still feeling SO ill! It was bad enough today that I went to the doctor (which should tell you how bad it is). I hurt so much I was actually a bit scared. She's gonna run some tests, and I have to go in on Friday for a blood draw for a liver function test. At first she told me that I was likely suffering from an inflammation of my gall bladder, until I pointed out that it quite clearly states in my chart that I no longer HAVE a gall bladder. My diagnosis was then amended to a severe-ish case of gastroenteritis - which I've never had before but don't necessarily recommend. I think this doctor is something of a sadist, however, because after I described in detail and even exhibited the intense cramping pain I feel after eating anything, she insisted that I continue eating regular snacks and meals as much as possible. I guess it makes sense - I have to replace everything I'm losing, but I'm ok with not being curled up on the bed in a fetal position whimpering for 2 hours after every few bites!

Anyway. Theoretically it will clear up on its own in a week or so - I just have to cowboy up and tough it out. I can't imagine having to move while feeling like this, though. I might then have ended up whimpering in the fetal position for no good reason! Gotta look on the bright side!

27 Hours in London

2008-06-29T23:44:00.002+01:00

Blah! So, I made it safe and sound through my interview, though I looked a mess. I was presentable enough when I got on the bus in Bournemouth, and even when I got off in London 3 hours later, but as I arrived a wee bit early I decided to have a wander through the Science Museum and scout the place out. The last time I was there was with Dad back in '99 when, in an attempt to pass the time of out 14-hour layover from Denver to Harare, we decided to go as a means of staving off jet lag. Anyway, by the time I had to leave the main building and go around to check in at the side entrance, it was absolutely pissing it down with rain and I got drenched. So, I basically looked like a drowned rat in front of the people I was trying to impress, and all the time I'd spent time carefully choosing and actually IRONING my outfit was for naught, as the girl before me got through dressed in jeans and sandals.

Anyway. I still think the interview went ok - I spouted off all the appropriate nonsense about team building and communication. Afterwards, the guy who walked me out said that I "did ok, providing there is no fierce competition", which I find to be a sort of ass-ended compliment. I can't figure out if he just wasn't that impressed, or that the fact he wasn't a native-English speaker interfered with his getting his true message across. Whatever the case, I'm supposed to find out within the next day or two if I've got the job, with a start for next Monday. So, I could potentially have to arrange a move in 5 days. Eeeek!!!!

The rest of my quickie visit was spent looking at potential flats, which I wasn't too impressed with (not that I expected to be) and hanging out with Karen a bit. I don't know if it was by dint of my being in a big germ-infested city again or that I got a wee bout of food poisoning at Pizza Express up in Golder's Green, but by Saturday afternoon I was barely functional. While on the Tube, I actually came the closest I have ever been to fainting; the only thing that kept me upright was that I was hanging on to the handrail. I barely made it off the train, and the station attendant first had me sit down in her little booth and then escorted me off the platform! I made it to the bus station and then back down to Bournemouth, but I still feel absolutely terrible. I can only hope it's a signal from my body to beef up on the healthy foods and vitamins, and not a sign of things to come!

How Dumb Do I Look?

2008-06-25T22:26:00.004+01:00

No, really? I'm just curious about the big flashing "IDIOT" sign that is CLEARLY blinking over my head, visible even to those I only encounter on the internet.

I've been sending out feelers for house/flatshares for less than two days now. I've been using reputable websites that post ads and pictures of the places, yet already I've been approached by two scam artists who have tried, within the space of just a few messages back and forth re:details of a particular apartment, to get me to sign contracts and send hundreds of pounds worth of deposit money before I've even seen the place! One of them even tried to convince me she was English, even though her grammar and syntax made clear she has only a passing familiarity with the language. I am genuinely curious to know what it is about me that screams "CHUMP!!!!".

That said, I have lined up at least one legitimate viewing, and hopefully can get a few more by Friday. I still think I'm jinxing myself, but just in case I get this job, I'd rather be able to zoom up and move straight into a place than have to leave all my stuff in Bournemouth and go live in a hostel for 9 weeks. Either scenario is not particularly convenient, but I have to say, imprudent as the expenditure of extra money is to move to London, I'm really excited about the potential prospect of living there again.

Really nervous about this interview, though. It's been so long, and I'm so out of my element, I just know I'm gonna mess SOMEthing up. Plus the prospect of having to take a "packing test" scares the willies out of me! I even tried looking on the internet for some form of guideline or article on the proper packaging techniques for museum artifacts, but so far no cigar. Eeeeeck!

Jinxing Myself

2008-06-24T13:00:00.002+01:00

INTERVIEW!!!!!!!!! I HAVE AN INTERVIEW!!!!!!!

It's only for a 9-week contract job, but it's up in London, it's at the Science Museum, and I am ridiculously giddy even though it's nowhere near to being in the bag. I have, just in case, started scouting out possible house/flat shares up there, and have tried to figure out the logistic of co-ordinating a short-term move, so I guess we shall see if any of it pans out.

I;m just happy to have SOME indication if interest in myself and my qualification after more than 6 months of job hunting, even if this is the sort of position a monkey could handle. As it happens I happen to be a monkey, and a somewhat qualified one to boot! So, cross your fingers and wish me luck around the general vicinity of 2:10pm GST Friday. That's about when I start my "packing test" to see if I can handle moving museum collections.

WHHEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

Watch This

2008-06-22T10:18:00.003+01:00

I know I've said before how much I detest blog entries that are just links to something else - particularly youtube, which is usually my way of prefacing a blog entry with a link. :P But I defy you to watch this and not be both amazed, and somewhat envious of this guy's life. It's wicked awesome. Many thanks to Bryan for sending it to me.

Make sure you watch in high def.

8-)

Hey There, Old Lady!

2008-06-17T10:19:00.005+01:00

The time has come for much celebration and jumping around, for screaming from the very roof of the world that MY MOMMY TURNS 60 TODAY!!!!!!!!!! (OMG, can you believe it? How has she not crumbled into dust yet!) Just listen to that echo reverberating across the internet and around the world. 60….60…..60……60………60….……………..60……. By the time it stops, she’ll be 65. :P

To be sure, 60 is nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, in this day and age it’s not even that big a deal. A few hundred years ago, now, it’d have been a wonder to make it this long. But now, 60 is just a slightly more wrinkly 30. However, every “0” birthday must be approached with a sense of occasion and, with every passing “0”, an increasing sense of majesty. Thus my need to advertise on the internet.

If I was a more eloquent or gifted writer, this is where I would launch into some beautiful speech about how wonderful and special my Mom is to me, and pepper it with cute little anecdotes and trips down memory lane. But alas, I’m not. And I’m not copping out, I promise. I’ve really tried over the past few days, to cobble something like that together but, over 5 years of blogging to the contrary, words actually don’t come that easily to me.

I would hope that my Mommy knows how wonderful and special is to me, and that I treasure the time we spend together. I never would have guessed (or believed) 15 years ago that she would turn out to be one of my best friends. But that’s teenage-dom for you, from which we both emerged somewhat emotionally unscarred (:P). I freely admit to being a Mama’s girl (and a Daddy’s girl, but you’ve gotta wait ‘til November to get your little tribute. :P), though I would like to think the apron strings are at least high-tensile elastic. They stretch, but I always bounce back! Now, it doesn’t get much better for me than those few weeks a year when I get my daily hug, or the time in between when we have one of those ludicrously long phone conversations that you just sort of fall into unplanned and cover every subject imaginable.

I can only hope that when I’m 60 I’ve done half the stuff she’s done – and I’ve got some serious catching up to do just to get half! I know I’m not supposed to be a clone of my mother, but there’s a significant part of her in me, which I’m a lot more grateful for now than I used to be. I sometimes wish there was more, just so I could figure out how to put it all together. I’ve never known anyone else who can make running around crazy an art form, but Mom can do it and somehow still look fab and somewhat calm doing it. She’s sociable, generous (sometimes to a fault), creative, crafy, a million things more and, of course, completely off her rocker at times. But I’ve been taught by example to embrace my inner crazy and not care so much what other people think of me. My Mom has been, and still is, a fantastic role model, and one I hope I’ll always strive to be like.

But, as I said, 60 in this day and age is really just the beginning. Mom, I don’t know what you’ve got going on for the next few decades, but I can’t wait to see how much fun they will be, and I’m already looking forward to several more adventures. For now, though, I hope you have an absolutely fantastic, splendiferous day, get lots of hugs from the grandkiddies and are thoroughly spoiled. Unfortunately, the best I can manage is this crappy old discolored photo I’ve always loved. Scanning didn’t help with the overexposure, but the sentiment (and the hug) from 13 years ago is still there.

Happy Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!

8-) Jenny

Book Review #2

2008-06-04T10:23:00.000+01:00

I started writing this post a few days ago, and so must say that I am in no way copying miss Jessica in the theme of it. But great minds think alike, as they say, so I see no shame in the similarity. Seeing as how I’ve not had much to do other than sit on my butt for the past few weeks, I figured I’d go through some of the books I’ve been reading to pass the time. In the spirit of keeping things short(er), I’m restricting my comments anything I’d not read before.

The Rose of Sebastopol by Katherine McMahon

Terrible, terrible! This is the sort of book you get when your traditional bodice-ripper author tries to get serious. I borrowed it from Lauren while in Paris and really struggled to power my way through it. I understand the concept of suspension of belief when it comes to both fiction and movies, but books like this really make it difficult. It succumbs to the familiar pitfall encountered by authors who don’t know what they’re doing in that she has 21st century characters living way outside their era. The lead character is insipid and impossible to sympathize with, and there’s some strange sort of needlework theme running through that I think is supposed to mean something, but it really doesn’t. This book also has one of my pet peeves in the back – a list of questions and discussion topics for book groups – like readers can’t be trusted to do their own interpretations and analysis.

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

Yet another prize-winning book that makes me wonder why?? There was absolutely nothing cool or clever about either the plot or writing style, and not even tackling subjects like incest and hermaphrodites got the story even close to being provocative. The narrative blundered on and on for almost 500 pages, and then attempted to wrap everything up in about 50. By the end of the book, the story had not “come full circle” or even reached any form of satisfactory conclusion. As a whole, the book was to forced, too contrived and it tried way to hard to be witty or original. A hermaphrodite ends up moving to a house called “Middlesex”. Oh gee, just beat me over the head with it, huh?

The Partisan’s Daughter by Louis de Bernieres

I’ve had a hit or miss relationship with this author – I loved the first book I read by him, “Captain Corelli’s Mandolin”, and then his South American trilogy, but since then I’ve fallen out of love with his stuff and this book does nothing to change that. It’s really more of a short story than a book, as I don’t even thing it went more than 200 pages, but there really was no point to the whole thing. Guy meets girl, girl lies to guy and then runs off leaving him transformed and full of regrets for life. If it’s any indication of what mindless fluff this book is, I read it in less than 4 hours.

Holidays in Hell and Republican Party Reptile by P.J. O’Rourke

These are two of the books that resulted from my ill-fated search for fiction in the Bournemouth Uni library, and it probably would have been best if I’d just left them there. The first one was vaguely enjoyable, but both suffered from being so amazingly dated that they just weren’t funny any more. Add to that the fact that this author thought he was SO much more funny and witty that he really was – he took himself so seriously it was annoying. He might have been good once, but 22 years later he’s more of a joke than his books are. Again, these books of no substance were breezed through in a matter of hours.

The Other Boleyn Girl by Phillipa Gregory

I kept hearing good things about this book (which should have been a good indication of things to come – I can never trust reviewers), so I decided to give it a shot. There was a time when I used to enjoy historical fiction, but I guess now I just know better. :P I suppose it can be said that that this author did some background research, but it appears to be just enough to have turned this book into a complete farce. The characters are all portrayed in unrealistic extremes, I have a feeling 16th century women weren’t all that empowered when it came to their roles in the bedroom or attitudes towards child-rearing, and in case you were in danger of forgetting the title of the book, the phrase “the other Boleyn girl” is repeated at least 15 times. I know this book doesn’t present itself as being fact, but there are people stupid enough out there to read this and think it’s real, especially now that they’ve made a movie out of it, and I guess that’s what I find the most annoying. I revile revisionist history, especially when it’s presented is such a seemingly innocuous form.

Collapse by Jared Diamond

I’ve actually only just started this one, and it’s not that I dislike it, but I just can’t really bring myself to care very much. I like the subject but it’s a hard read. Maybe I’m just worn out with the effort of all this reading or intellectually stunted, but I haven’t yet made it past the first chapter. I keep having to go back and re-read pages. Add to that the fact that exams are over and I’m no longer forced to sit in a room with nothing to do, and this book may never get finished. I like to think I’ll get around to it some day. :P

**************************************************

So, it may appear that I’ve not enjoyed a single thing I’ve read over the past few weeks and you’d pretty much be correct, aside from established favorites such as “Jane Eyre”, Bill Bryson, and the complete works of Jane Austin. As you perhaps can tell, I’m a bit particular when it comes to the sorts of books I like, which is probably why when I find one I do enjoy I tend to read it over and over until the covers fall off. Appearances aside, it’s not that I don’t enjoy new things, I just have a set of standards I’d like to be met – clear and descriptive writing, intriguing characters, creativity, some sort of conformity to historical fact (if that’s the genre) – none of which are a bad thing. On the plus side, when I DO find something I enjoy, I’ll be sure to rave about it as much as I rant about the stuff here. Aren’t you just looking forward to that?! :P

Yikes!

2008-06-02T10:06:00.003+01:00

I just got the application form in the mail to join one of the disaster relief agencies out here. It's absolutely no big deal - anyone who asks can join and it's highly unlikely volunteers will ever get called out, since obviously the people who are actually employed by the company get first crack at any work. This is just an on-call thing in case of REALLY big emergencies, and even then I'm on the bottom of the list.

Still, it's a good thing to have on the resume, and is genuinely something I'm interested in doing. It's more than just a question of filling out paperwork however. The following is a list of inoculations I'm required to provide documentation for.

Hepatitis A - 1 injection
Hepatitis B - 3 injections in 8 months
Typhoid - 1 injection
Polio/Tetanus - 3 injections over 12 weeks
Meningococcal Meningitis - 1 injection
Yellow Fever - 1 injection
Diptheria - 1 injection
Tuberculosis - 1 test then 1 injection
Rabies - 3 injections

I know I had a meningitis shot when I moved into the dorms at Durham and I remember, way back when, having to have a TB test when I worked at CU, but I don't have paperwork for them and if I ever had any of the others I've long since lived past the booster periods. I'm fairly certain, on reflection, that I've not even had a tetanus shot since I left college. Looks like if I wanna work for these peeps, I'm gonna have to become a regular pin cushion (assuming I can get them done free or relatively cheap).

Jenny don't like shots. :(

Pluggin' Away

2008-05-29T15:26:00.001+01:00

Blah! After getting two rejection letters yesterday and, terrified at the thought that tomorrow is my last day of paid work, I went into overdrive mode today. I had the good fortune to be invigilating in a computer lab for both the morning and afternoon exam sessions, and so have been sending various drafts of CV’s and cover letters flying all day. Some positions I’m wildly overqualified for, and others not remotely, but I’m taking a stab anyway. I’ve already had one response asking me to elaborate on my knowledge of 19th century material culture. I’m gonna have to think about that one seeing as how the answer is pretty much ‘zip’. :P

But, I have managed to get myself a sort of 8th hour reprieve. A ‘casual’ e-mail sent into work saying that, as I’ve not been contacted regarding any summer work they may as well close out my file, resulted in a phone call offering some pick-up work over the next few weeks. It won’t be much more than a few hours of notetaking here and there and prodding students to finish up their assignments, but it’s better than nothing! So, I guess that’s good news!

Unfortunately it means yet another month here in Bournemouth. I’d been considering just picking up and getting away, even if I do end up having to move home in a few months. I just want to get out of here – I feel stagnant. Moving to a short term place wouldn’t be the brightest of ideas, considering the money it would cost for moving all my stuff and paying security deposits and such, plus, knowing my luck, as soon as I moved and was settled I’d then be offered a job which would require yet another relocation. But that’s how much I’m learning to hate this town. Anyway, if I have another month’s work, that plan is at least put on hold. I can tough it out.

I keep thinking back to this time last year. All I had hanging over me was my dissertation and, regardless of all the work I put into it, I really had such a carefree summer. Parties, picnics, trips to Prague and Italy and Sheffield, that magnificent week of the Mass Graves course; I totally spoiled myself. Now I just feel weighed down with the pressure of being all grown up and trying to establish a career. That’s exactly what I want, but I still can’t help feeling a bit nostalgic.

Oh well. Something will happen soon. It’s bound to, and I’ve always believed in that whole ‘everything happens for a reason’ mojo. Even if I’m not thrilled about where I am at the moment, it will lead to somewhere. I know I just don’t have the perspective yet to see the good of it. Until then, I shall keep my chin up, my fingers on various different keyboards, and my CV zooming through the internet. And I’d better do some research on 19th century material culture! :P

I Wanna Be Sedated

2008-05-22T10:28:00.001+01:00

Wednesday 12:50pm

Given that I can’t stand the books I checked out of the library the other day, I’m taking time out for some observations written on the back of an exam booklet. I don’t think I’ve ever had as bad a reaction to a person as to the student I’m currently invigilating for. I understand that people have legitimate problems, some of which may need to be catered to in an exam environment, but this guy takes his self-entitlement to an Olympic level and behaves in such a way that, if there were judges to score him, he’d be marked down for being such an asshole. That was only my first impression. At this moment, we’re only halfway through his already interminable exam, and he’s only gotten worse.

He didn’t start off on the best of feet what with all his swearing and stomping around. There are a bunch of us one-on-one invigilators set up in this building and he got his room assignment mixed up. After sitting in a dark and empty room well past the time his exam should have started he got upset and, rather than knocking on the door of an invigilator obviously waiting for a student to show up (i.e., me), he chose instead to interrupt someone who had already begun her exam and started bitching out her invigilator because he’d been given the wrong room number (which, of course, he hadn’t).

A few minutes later, the poor harried woman who organizes the exam timetable ushered this guy into my room. He was by then 15 minutes late and not exactly calmed down by the knowledge that the mistake he was already claiming to have interfered with his mindset too much for him to perform properly was, in fact, his. He then proceeded to take his time and unpack two shopping bags full of “necessary supplies” – 4 bottles of water, 2 cans of soda, a thermos of what turned out to be extremely bad-smelling coffee, a box of muesli bars, 2 boxes of Tic Tacs, various small bags of snacks, a pocket watch, 8 textbooks he wasn’t allowed to open but “needed near him” and miscellaneous other bits of junk I’ll have to clear up once he’s gone.

Special needs students get extra time to finish – fair enough – and some others are allowed certain amounts of extra time per hour for rest breaks. Most students I’ve encountered don’t actually take these – why draw out an exam longer than you have to. They just want to get it done and over with. This guy insists on his full 10 minutes allotment every hour, and is indeed paranoid about missing it since it’s not up to me to remind him to take them in time. He keeps trying to cheat and extra few minutes out here and there as well, which is annoying.

What’s really obnoxious about this (besides the attitude and endless talking to himself/describing to me of everything he’s doing) is that he doesn’t NEED these breaks. As part of my invigilation duties I have to be familiar with the student’s disabilities – there is no medical or psychological reason for him to have them. The extra time has been granted as a technicality and he’s just determined to milk it for all it’s worth, and I’m just getting more and more bitter about that by the moment.

Of course, what does all this matter in the grand scheme of things? Not a whit. I’m just irritated because he’s a dick and is inconveniencing me with his insistence on all these breaks that are cheating me out of my own break before my next exam this afternoon – an exam I’ll now actually be late for because we were delayed 25 minutes by this guy’s mistake and subsequent tantrum. I’ll get over it, and clearly he’ll think nothing of it.

It’s just frustrating right now, listening to him fidget and mumble on (I even loathe the way he sneezes!) in this stuffy classroom that now smells like stale airplane thanks to his rank-ass coffee. He has spilled some and is angry at me because leaving the room for tissues to wipe it up would constitute his last break, and that’s not fair! There are no toilets in this building, so it’s a five minute walk to get to them so, no, I’m not stopping the clock when he’s not supposed to be bringing in food and drink anyway. He’s retaliating by not letting me open a window to air out the room because the noise would be “too disruptive”, as if he could hear anything over his own voice.

Ugh! I WILL get over it! This day won’t last forever. It can’t! Letting it all slide can and will happen. But if I end out the day smelling like airplane and this guy’s stale farts it’s gonna take a hell of a lot longer!

79 minutes to go…..

Great Thought

2008-05-20T14:45:00.000+01:00

I don't remember where it came from, but in the past few days I've heard something that stuck in my head and makes me smile every time I remember it.

Consider the Last Supper, and the idea that the food and wine are the body and blood of Christ. Then wonder.....what would it be like if someone had ordered the white?

:P

Bibliophobic

2008-05-20T13:28:00.001+01:00

I come here, on this somewhat pleasant May day, to comment upon the shocking lack of books in the school library. Exam time is upon us here in Bournemouth, which means lots of time sitting around with little else to do than read, stare out the window, text people, and occasionally raise my head from said activities in order to make sure my student isn’t cheating. Barring the odd semi-crisis, it’s not exactly the most challenging work in the world, but I’m getting paid to sit on my ass and do this, so I’m not going to complain.

Maybe I’m still in an uber-reading phase because of my time spent in Paris, but I’ve been blazing through my extremely limited library like nobody’s business and, faced with another two weeks of this, I stopped by the library this morning for some fresh material. Thinking that I would have little trouble finding something of interest to read, and not really caring about subject matter, I typed ‘fiction’ into the search engine just to get a general idea of what kind of catalogue there was to choose from. Maybe my first clue should have been that, after being here for almost 2 years, I had no idea what floor of the library the fiction section was! NOTHING came up!! I found lots of books on how to read and write fiction, but even after branching out my search to include other keywords, there was absolutely nothing to be found resembling a “classic”, other than a copy of “The Canterbury Tales” that I search high and low for but was never found.

I then tried the book search technique that’s served me well on many a paper and both dissertations. I chose an aisle and walked down reading the titles of all the books on every shelf. Remarkably, despite all the advances in Library Science over the decades, I still find this the fastest and most efficient method for finding specific and related source material for whatever subject I’m researching.

Eventually, after about half an hour, I found a shelf labelled “Literature”, though this was an extremely eclectic collection of the so-called ‘greats’. There were, admittedly, 9 copies of “The Color Purple” (excellent read, but one I’ve done dozens of times), but sitting next to it was “101 Great Golfing Moments”. And before you ask, no, it was not misfiled! I checked the code stickers and both books were exactly where they were supposed to be. Also in “Literature” could be found a couple humor travel books from 1988 (which I eventually snagged out of desperation), a few encyclopedias of science fiction, some how-to manuals and a book on gender attitudes in literature called “Chick It”. Such was the extent of Bournemouth Uni’s fiction section, unless I was just looking in the absolute wrong place.

I’m just in a weird place right now because I’ve always considered libraries to be the Source of All Knowledge. In all my years I’ve never found one so decidedly wanting in actual books (as opposed to text and research books). Even Durham’s Swirling Vortex of Evil had floors of fiction (if also interestingly filed) it would have taken me years to get through. I suppose a lot of this has to do with Bournemouth’s history as a polytechnic, and the fact that the closest this school comes to an English or History Department would be the Media School and Film Studies program. But what’s the point of having shelves devoted to interpretations of, and instructions on how to read, Shakespeare without ACTUALLY having Shakespeare? Have I popped a gasket or should this make sense to me?

Well, anyway. As I said, I ended up with two books by P.J. O’Rourke, which though fun are so dated it’s depressing, and a basic coursebook on British Archaeology, which I figure I should get better acquainted with in case I should ever land an interview and have to prove I have passing knowledge of. Once I’m through these, it’s going to be a whole new adventure trying to find something else to read, unless I cave and buy some used books online or start combing through all my travel books in earnest. All I know is that I can’t face the next 2 weeks without something to do, and I won’t always be so lucky as to be invigilating in a computer lab like I am at the moment. If only I could bring my laptop! :P

Jenny ='s Job

2008-05-16T21:24:00.002+01:00

I'm curious what it is about this equation that prospective employers don't get when they see my CV. Clearly I'm just smarter if it's so obvious to me, but it wouldn't exactly do for me to point this fact out. So COME ON PEOPLE!! Don't make me beat you!

Jenny ='s Job. It's as simple as that.

Manna for the Soul

2008-05-15T20:39:00.001+01:00

Having just literally been kicked out of the TV room downstairs (and the sofa cushions re-plumped and doors slammed behind me before I could even make it to the stairs) I figure now’s a good time for an update on my quickie trip to Paris. Needing to escape the ridiculousness that is Bournemouth was reason enough, but the über icing on the cake was 4 days spent with family and an extra 4 hours spent with my Mommy! I got some sun, some hugs, loads of yummy food and was once again inundated with monkeys. So, all in all, a great break! 8-)

I arrived Thursday morning and made my way out to Maisons-Laffites. After a little while to get settled, Antoine took me out to the north suburbs to a park called Buttes Charmant (or something), where we met up with Lauren and a bunch of her friends. We had a great picnic on the side of a hill (the slope causing more than a few problems, especially for Antoine and his wine :P).

Once it got dark we went to Lauren’s flat to hang out a bit longer, where I met her special friend, Monsieur Froggy.

Friday I was left to my own devices as everyone else had work to do. I decided to head out towards Montmartre, where I’ve not been since I first visited Paris with Mom and Dad back in ’97. I remembered something about a funicular, and I’ve always gone ga-ga for that sort of thing. So, I was a tad disappointed when I got out there and realized how ridiculously sort a ride it was, something I wasn’t about to spend money on when I could walk up the steps in about 5 minutes!

So walk I did. I meandered my way, stopping occasionally to take pictures and apparently making friends. At one point I stopped to take a picture of an old lamp post and, even though wasn’t aiming anywhere near him, pissed off an old man enough that he stopped feeding his pigeons and stood up to give me a bird of a different kind. Just for that, I did take his picture just to spite him, so his actions became a self-fulfilling prophecy, really.

Sacre Coeur didn’t rock my socks so much, but it was pretty, and a worthwhile way to spend a few minutes or so. Lauren and I made arrangements to meet up on the south end of town, so I filled the time in between by walking instead of taking the Metro. I really have no idea how far it was – a ways, but it didn’t take as long as I thought it would. I did see some interesting things along the way. I swear, I passed through the “wedding” district, with gowns and suits in every window, and then the “hair” district. :P Just before I met up with Lauren I found the ULTIMATE in cool toys! I plushie pirate ship, with a monkey in the crows nest and waving a pirate flag that was a happy face. I wanted it SO bad, but resisted the urge to spend money I don’t have. SO cool, though!!!

Saturday was Mommy day, which is a saga in and of itself and not so much my story to tell. Short version – her flight was delayed more than a few hours, so our 1pm lunch became a dinner. But I still got to hang out with her for part of an afternoon, and we all had happy family time with Nancy. Lauren picked a really nice restaurant for us to go to and we had a great evening until Mom was about ready to pass out.

Sunday and Monday were both pretty mellow days – nice picnics, reading, scenic drives and strolling. Just the laid back quiet time I needed – completely free from stupidness and somewhat free from the stress of the whole joblessness situation. The whole break was so relaxing – I read 4 books in 5 days! I don’t remember the last time I indulged in such luxurious behavior! C’est mangnifique!

And then I came back. To this house and these silly people. I really can’t get out of here fast enough – I’m not well equipped to deal with meanness and idiocy. But that’s another story and not really one worth whining about. I had my first holiday in ages and it was wonderful. That’s all that matters. 8-)