Posts Tagged ‘spreadsheet’

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stand up. (Chancery Lane + Russell Square)

November 7, 2012

Last night I went to the Wilmington Arms (which, for the record, is inconveniently not near a Starbucks) in Clerkenwell in East-Central London to watch Toby deliver a 10-minute stand-up routine about being a “knitting geek” for a Science Showoff event. I got off at Chancery Lane:

 

stopped off at Pret and then settled myself in for an evening that was pleasantly surprisingly funny: I learned about Steven Seagal being an actual sheriff; that there is a new animated series of My Little Pony that sounds utterly hilarious; there was a celebrity a few hundred years ago who allegedly gave birth to bits of rabbit; the 4 ghosts in Pac-Man actually have names and personalities; and that my boyfriend is incredibly witty, funny and charismatic on stage. I am so proud of Toby for getting up in front of us all and entertaining us – he didn’t look nervous at all, and got lots of laughs. Perhaps in the near future I’ll get to go onstage again too! It’s been too long and internet delays / actually having a social life for once has prevented me from releasing my new album, but I swear and promise it’s coming!

We walked to Russell Square tube station and rather excitingly, got the Piccadilly line to Turnham Green (where it only stops early in the morning, and late at night – yes, we were out on a school night!) and then changed to the District to get home. I was thinking about my geeky qualities – at first, I couldn’t find any other than being a bit of a music obsessive, but then I realised: my London underground photo project (which is going quite well by this point – I think I’ve done around 80 stations!) is quite possibly the epitome of geekiness; also, my fondness for spreadsheets (e.g. the blood pressure spreadsheet, the annual Christmas gifts / winter birthday presents spreadsheet, the useful but ultimately ill-fated “have I snacked this evening?” spreadsheet) as an organisational tool for daily life might be evidence that beneath my exquisitely fashionable exterior lies the beating heart of a nerd. Enough!

 

I’m done.

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reboot.

May 8, 2011

When I started this blog, I just envisioned it as a fun space to talk about my life and loves, where I could be honest and frank without fear of repercussion. I branched out into talking about music and doing reviews, which I have since reined in because while these posts were popular, I just haven’t felt inspired to write any new reviews lately. Toby suggested that I could create a separate blog for music, culture and fashion in the future, but as I’m writing less posts I didn’t think I could devote enough time to two separate blogs – I feel like I am neglecting this one as it is! (A new layout is long overdue 😉 ) The idea is good and one day I would love to, but right now I am focusing on my job, trying to find a new job in London, and my family and friends, visiting Toby in London (he came down to Bristol this weekend and we had such a lovely time 🙂 ) – I just haven’t got the time.

Since I got my new laptop in December, I transferred all of my content across to it from the old one, but I haven’t used Photo Booth in a long time. Yesterday, I opened the programme and started flicking through the old photos from last year. I haven’t realised, but I used to look better (not that I look drastically awful now, but I feel that I looked slightly slimmer, slightly fresher, slightly more fashionable) a year ago when I was doing the QCG at UWE. That year was such a good one for me – I made some lovely friends, I began to make inroads into the vocational sector I wanted to pursue, and I met two people who are instrumental to my evolution into the person I have become today – Mike, who is like a big brother to me and has given me so much confidence in myself, and Toby, whom at this point I can confidently say is the love of my life who loves me back.

I found my first proper full-time salaried job doing something I wanted to do, I finally passed my driving test and bought my first car, I got my first four (!) tattoos which more than declaring my inner edginess and free spirit, declare my new-found confidence in the person I am. And now that all these big events have passed, I’m just trying to keep everything going. I feel like I am on a treadmill paying for my car, trying and so far failing to pay off my debts, growing my professional experience and my CV whilst trying to find that elusive job in London, growing my relationship with Toby. And I seem to have barely any time for myself. I have put on a little bit of weight – not a drastic amount, but a few pounds that I would like to shift. I don’t like my hair (which has always been the case, but I feel that it’s fine but not pleasing) and I would like to do something interesting with it – I may well do in the summer, as I’m thinking of dyeing it black again and cutting the sides really short, and letting the top be longer and straighter. Straightening my hair is something I’m out of practice with, but the other night I decided to use my GHDs before I went to pick up Toby from Parkway station, and it felt refreshing and cleansing just to do something different with myself.

But it’s more than that. It is about devoting time to myself – not through comfort eating (which I recognise I have been doing in the evenings over the last few months), nor through my new budgeting spreadsheet (which is something I have to do, but not what I particularly want to do!). It’s about actively taking care of myself. After an initial run at an Abs Workout iPhone app, I decided I didn’t like the exercise schemes on it, so I have found a youtube abs workout by Laura London which I am doing 4-5 times a week. In this way, I can maintain my slim figure and hopefully drop those pesky few pounds. Which in turn, makes me feel good on the inside. I aim to straighten my hair more, and do more interesting things with my appearance once the summer holidays approach (so that I don’t make any faux pas in front of the 2000 odd teenagers at college – not the most forgiving audience!) – because doing this makes me feel good and is a symbol of me taking time for myself and being prepared to value myself and say “I am important”. It’s vanity, but it’s also so much more than vanity.

Through Toby’s love, and through the close friendships I enjoy, I have nurtured others and in turn nurtured myself. One reason I have slowed down on the reviews, which I hadn’t really thought about until very recently, is that I am tired of criticism. Both receiving unwarranted criticism (which I shall talk about in a forthcoming post), but also being expected to give criticism. I don’t like the fact that so much of society seems to thrive on putting others down in order to build ourselves up. Why do we feel that in order to give an opinion on an album, a film, an outfit, a friend, we have to find something negative? It’s one thing if the negative naturally occurs to us, but to me it seems crazy to actively search it out. So until I feel ready, I am going to leave the reviews. For now, I am working on myself.

Hence the title of this post, “reboot”. Something I have always done on this blog is write about my emotions truthfully, and connect them to what I’ve been going through. While these posts may not garner as many hits, it’s been cathartic for me to be able to reflect and grow, and the responses I do receive to those posts are the most gratifying. I am reading Janet Jackson’s new book True You, and while it may not be the most eloquent piece of literary writing, it is something I enjoy because to read someone else’s struggles, triumphs and insecurities allows me to connect with that person, and to reflect on my own. I am 25 years old, and for over half of my life I have been getting to know myself and trying to understand who I am. So in turn, by sharing my own thoughts and my own insecurities, I can start to embrace them and move past – and hopefully help you all not only to feel closer to me but to feel closer to who you are. I’m just like you, a human being – this is me, take it or leave it. But I hope that my own struggles and successes inspire you, and I also hope that you will also share yours with me because I would like to be inspired in kind! 🙂

I am rebooting my life a little bit – remembering that among the many other commitments in my life, I am important and valuable, and deserve some time and dedication. I am rebooting this blog a little bit, making sure that I find the strength and bravery to share the good and the bad with you, so that we know that we are not, that we are never alone, and that we can all grow and get past our insecurities, capitalise on our triumphs and find and nurture our happiness and our joy. I know that I sound a little bit bizarre right now, but it’s mainly because we’re not supposed to talk like this in society – it exposes our vulnerability and risks us getting hurt. Well, what I have found makes me feel better is knowing that I’m not alone – we need to be honest with one another and talk about all of these things! Otherwise we all just suffer in silence and alone. I have a good life, and I want it to be better; I want to nurture my own happiness and the happiness of those around me. I want to be able to look back on my life when I am old and say “I made mistakes and I had successes, but I always tried to do the right thing and I had a rich and full life.” If I can look back and say that, then I will be happy. That journey starts here and now. And in such a way, I am rebooting myself.

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apples and oranges.

September 20, 2009

For close to 4 years now, I’ve been an Apple convert.  The time has passed by quickly, and I don’t regret making the switch one bit.  My first Apple product was technically my 40GB iPod photo which now looks like a giant brick! I can’t believe I used to carry that around with me! But then, I can’t believe I used to carry my walkman and 5 or 6 cassette tapes to school each day, nor that I used to have a little bag with my discman and a few CDs in it that I used to wear around me.  Something I forgot until my iPod had to be sent away for repair during my second year of university was that CDs JUMP.  How we’ve come to expect perfection!  Or I have, anyway – I have no patience for songs skipping, I have little patience for my iPod taking a while to get its head round a song I want it to play.

However, I never considered getting an iPod as becoming an Apple convert.  Once I saw how easily my iPod worked and how straightforward the menus were, I became interested in getting an Apple laptop, especially as my current laptop was slower than a dinosaur.  During my first year of university, I had lots of problems with anti-virus software and protecting my computer.  It became ridiculously slow, and in addition to that, the laptop I had had a poor attempt at imitating Microsoft Office.  In the end, I had enough, and just before Christmas 2005 I ordered my first Apple laptop, an iBook G4.  It took me a month to get used to the fact that there was no right-click button, that the tabs and x’s and everything were in different places.  Also to get used to the fact that as a Mac, my computer was practically already virus-immune without constant annoying updates from AVG and Spybot and Norton Anti-Virus.  The resolution and picture quality was far superior than what I had been used to, and although there were several software compatibility issues, they were a lot easier to overcome than I had feared.  The aforementioned Microsoft Office was no longer needed, as I didn’t require any spreadsheets, and I could open and create word documents in TextEdit.  So it was all good!

Of course, it’s not all been problem-free.  I’m now on my third iPod (which is just over a year old), a 120GB silver iPod classic.  I’ve had it just over a year, and apart from the fact that the click wheel only clicks in the headphones, it is behaving quite well. For a while it was working extremely slowly, but the iPod software update on Snow Leopard fixed it and it’s back to normal.  I have had a lot of iPod issues in the past, having to send back my iPod time and again and getting replacement ones.  Particularly in the case of my first iPod (the photo one), I got into a rhythm of hitting it and knocking it in order to get it to behave and function, which in retrospect was quite ridiculous.  My second iPod, a 5th-generation iPod classic with video, still works, though it went through a period of deleting itself of all my music which was why I got a new one.  Because I have such a huge amount of music (though 120GB is more than enough space, and I haven’t come close to filling this iPod yet, with 35GB still free!), having to reload it onto my iPod is a MASSIVE pain, and now I use a handy program called iLinkPod to back up my iPod every month or so.  It’s a great security blanket, and ensures that I never lose my songs (something which is a much more real concern with digital music – it’s far easier to lose a file than to lose a CD), nor my formatting – I am a little bit anal about how I categorise my songs and make sure that everything has the correct artwork.  So with my new iPod, I bought AppleCare to keep it under guarantee for a lot longer, and I feel a lot more secure now.  And everything is working fine!

The introduction of an Apple Store to Bristol has also been a great advantage.  Up until the opening of Cabot Circus last September, there was an Apple retailer in Temple Meads which was more or less hopeless when it came to fixing any issues that I had.  Problems with my first laptop and its CD drive went unrepaired because they were so pathetic in their service that I just preferred to persist with the problem than get it fixed by them. (When my CD or DVD would skip upon putting it in the drive, I would just beat the base of the computer and it would work.  Again, I am glad to say those days are long gone!)  When my hard drive finally corrupted (I think to be fair, that was my fault because in Spain, I would leave my computer on my bed and it would overheat lying on the thick blanket that I had bought), it was easier just to buy another laptop than get it fixed by them and face their judgement.  Also, their costs would probably have been close to the cost of another laptop anyways.  I bought my second laptop in Easter 2007, and I still have it today!  The one time that I had a problem with it, last Christmas when it would only work with the power adapter plugged in, I took it to the Apple Store in Cabot Circus, who repaired it and although they had said that providing a new logic board would cost £400 (a price I decided I was prepared to pay), they fixed it for no charge.  It was a lovely Christmas Eve present, and to this day I’m not sure if that was a mistake… I just got out of the store clutching my laptop before they could change their mind!

Updating my operating system to Leopard and recently Snow Leopard has kept my laptop current, and although it is 2 and a half years old now, I don’t feel that it’s been left behind or is lacking anything. I have got a Microsoft Office replacement now called NeoOffice, so that I can plot my anti-snacking spreadsheet and make a beautiful printable CV.  Using the real Microsoft at work has made me appreciate Apple all the more.  My Dell laptop starts up and shuts down so slowly; it installs updates at a snail’s pace; Microsoft Office is actually not that user friendly, with certain apparently-advanced functions being a rigmarole to discover.  And don’t rely on the help section – it only helps you with incredibly obvious things, and anything more technical is a struggle to even find according to their index system.  I conclude that their help sections must have been written by morons, and this week at work, I have solved my queries by using Google, seeing that the Microsoft help section had failed me so.  In short, I can’t see myself going back to Microsoft.

However, there is one area of my life where I’m not willing to let Apple in.  The iPhone, while I appreciate is a marvellous piece of kit and has so many useful (and useless! 😉 ) apps as well as a slim touchscreen, iPod capabilities and Safari web browser, is just far too common.  I see it everywhere. In addition, it’s expensive and I’m not really into buying phones on contract (I get easily confused), so I prefer to buy them SIM-free and then just keep my standard O2 Simplicity contract, which gives me unlimited web browsing, and enough free texts and minutes for £20 to keep me satisfied. I see iPhones everywhere, and while they are pretty and fantastic devices, I prefer to be a little bit different.  I have the LG Prada II, which is a beautiful sleek black touchscreen phone.  However, it also has a pull-out QWERTY keyboard (one of the main selling features for me) so after a little bit of teething, I can text pretty damn quick. I also have the internet and a camera and all the other important things I wanted in a smart phone.  But for me, it is more beautiful than an iPhone, it has the designer name which makes it a little more special to me, and I have never seen another one being used in public.  I am confident that the iPhone is probably a superior piece of kit, but not by much – I am happy without all the extra apps, as long as I have my QWERTY keyboard, free internet browsing, emails, beautiful phone and unique phone.  The LG Prada II has taken me a few months to get my head around (the instruction manual is not very clear, and it does randomly do crazy things such as restart when I receive more than one email), but I have grown to love it and appreciate its quirks as much as its beauty and functions.  As I’ve only had it for 5 months, I’m not really looking into what phone I might get next (iPhone or otherwise), as technology these days (particularly with smart phones) evolves so quickly that I won’t even think about it until my current phone starts getting tired and a new one will be necessary.  However, I know that Dior have got a beautiful phone on their website…

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self-control.

September 7, 2009

The past couple of days, I have been in various situations which have prompted me to think about the values of restraint and self-control.  Most of the time they are positive: I have a spreadsheet on my computer to track my evening snacking, and in the last 6 months I have managed to reduce my evening snacking to only 29% of a month (this is more difficult and more impressive than it sounds, believe me).  Restraining from this has complemented my gym regime and I’ve lost weight and toned up as a result.  I’ve been restraining from spending too much and buying too many pretty things because it’s only now that I’ve got money coming in again, and despite enduring desperate cravings for certain items, I realised that these cravings pass and I don’t need the things I think I need as much as I do.  (I am still getting that Gucci bracelet in the next month or so, make no mistake.) After wrecking my Nintendo DS during a bout of throwing a Naomi I have been making a conscious effort not to get so annoyed at Street Fighter IV on my PS3, and just taking a breather when I get frustrated.  I have been cutting down on my cigarettes only to preserve my voice, and it seems to be helping (or at least not getting worse), and I don’t feel quite as guilty.

Today at work, I seemed to be having a good day, working for my two bosses Cass and Kerry.  I was mainly helping Kerry today with endless spreadsheets, and I’ll continue doing that tomorrow.  However, Cass popped his head around the door after lunch and asked me if I could help him move some boxes from one room back to another (where they originally were, and where I moved them from right at the beginning of my job about 6 weeks ago). I felt sorry for him when he found out they had to go back, and it turns out that when I agreed to “help” him, I would actually be doing it by myself.  Fine, I said, I would go and do it when I came to a break with Kerry’s stuff, which I did.  I was barely physically able to move one of the cages full of stock (there were 6, Cass had told me there were 5) – Cass envisioned the whole task would take an hour or so, and then I could reload the cages once I was finished.  After 2 cages, the second of which I had to get a policeman to help me with when it came to pushing it up the slope towards its destination, I was aching and drenched in sweat.  And quite pissed off!  I couldn’t do any more, Cass had gone for the day so I couldn’t explain that the cages were just too heavy for me to physically move (and I am no weakling), and there was no way it was possible for me to empty them all before the end of the day, let alone fill them up with more stock.  (I am also quite confident that Cass did not fill up the cages himself, otherwise he would not have asked me to transfer them all within one hour, because he would have realised that that was an unrealistic and fairly dangerous demand!) I felt that I might let him down in some way (though I hope he will understand, he is usually very reasonable) and I hope that he knows by now that I am the farthest thing from workshy.  It’s just not physically possible for me to do, especially not within tonight’s time constraints.  Tomorrow if I have half a day to do it, and the cages are split into (much) smaller loads, it might be possible.  We’ll see.

In addition to this considerable irritation, I was trying to call my mother at work to get a lift home on her way back, since I was staying at work later than usual; it took me over an hour to get through to her work on the phone, and even then when her colleague answered the phone, he asked me to call back again in 5 minutes (I said no, and told him that I would rather my mother called me back – I think I had been calling that shop enough for one day).  So I was quite annoyed about that, although in both cases I know that nobody was deliberately at fault, and that I should keep my rapidly rising anger in check.  Somehow, I managed to do this, and me and my mum exchanged stories about our frustrating days on the journey home.  I bought 2 dvds at Tesco (Bride Wars & Notorious) and plan to relax with some chocolate Mars drink and good pudding (tonight will be a night where I probably will snack – I plead extenuating circumstances!) watching one of them.

The final straw tonight was when I got home from work with my mother, only to have problems deleting a message from our answerphone (which hates me); apparently, it senses my finger on the delete button and refuses to work, though I have witnessed my mother deleting messages and she does nothing different from what I do.  My parents both made a comment and I exploded, prompting my father to mock my “grumpiness”.  I stormed off (I was definitely grumpy, but there was no need to point it out – what do you think you are going to achieve by highlighting my bad mood?  Certainly not make me feel better…) and sat in the small computer room on the floor, and my mum came in and said that just after I’d left, he had done the same thing to her (her day had not been great either).  I didn’t have a massive explosion of anger, but there just comes a point where you can hold things in and hold things in and be aware of not pushing your anger or frustration or emotions onto other people, but just holding your tongue and taking deep breaths and dealing with frustration calmly and rationally… and it all spills out anyway.  Some people just don’t seem to realise that they pile burden on top of burden on top of you, and I’m not superhuman – eventually, after enough pressure, I snap, just like anyone else.  Is that a fault of mine?  Should I have more self-control?  Or is it an issue where I restrain too much and let things build up? When is it right to not say anything and deal with your issues by yourself for fear of upsetting or alienating someone else, and when is the time to speak up and say “I can’t take anymore”, before you explode?  How do you know when the right time to do that is?  In short, how do you predict when enough is enough?

As I said at the start of the post, although I recognise I have a temper (which developed due to Street Fighter and also due to various trying situations at the Perfume Shop), I am fairly good at controlling it, especially around other people.  But yesterday, discussing Jill’s death with my parents, I think I was the one who put my foot in my mouth.  I was asking about what kind of cancer she had died of – a reasonable question, I thought.  My mother didn’t know.  I found it odd that Jill’s husband, despite the fact he had spoken to my mother at least 3 times in the past couple of weeks and had asked her to pass on updates of Jill’s health to mutual friends of hers and my mother’s, had neglected to mention what type of cancer she was actually suffering from.  I understand people being private, especially in times of suffering and grief, but I thought that generally, people suffer from lung cancer or breast cancer or cancer of the womb or cancer of something.  If you say “She has cancer”, the automatic question is surely “cancer of what?” I found this weird that nobody seemed to know, and that Graham had not passed on this vital piece of information to my mother, especially if my mother was then supposed to inform other people herself.  And yet, my parents were both like “you don’t ask that kind of thing!” I understand not wanting to probe into someone’s grief, but I found it strange that the question had not been asked, and even stranger that my mother hadn’t been told in the first place!  Yet after our discussion, I felt like I was somehow unfeeling or tactless, and that I had said the wrong thing (my father’s sister also died of cancer – to this day, me and my mother know very little about it).  I guess that everyone deals with death in their own way, and I understand that grief is a private and individual process that not everyone wants to share or shout about.  But I don’t understand people not asking basic questions; I later spoke to my mum about it and she said that I hadn’t upset her at all, but that as you get older, you learn more and more as you get older not to disturb others’ fragile emotional states.  I understand this already, but I just don’t know the rules about what you talk about and what you don’t talk about in times like these.  If we don’t speak up and ask questions, even about fragile or poignant situations, how do we become better informed? Is it more respectful to be silent and remain in ignorance? Is restraint really the better option in this instance?  I don’t get why people don’t talk about these things.  If we did, then maybe it would clarify, if not ease the grieving process / understanding of exactly why Jill died.  So I don’t really know at all just how much restraint or self-control is a good thing after all.

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run this town.

September 2, 2009

On a day like today, despite having less than 5 hours’ sleep and nearly 30 pages of spreadsheet to type up onto the computer at work, I was feeling fierce.  I got up earlier than usual so that I could get to work early and make my hours & fit my social breaks in too.  I had my new top on from Zara and I looked pretty nice, if I do say so myself. (There’s nothing like wearing a new purchase for the first time.) As you might know, at times my self-esteem can be a little bit low and I can feel vulnerable and insecure – as much as I would like to pretend to be invincible, I’m only human.  But I also think it’s important to acknowledge and document when I’m feeling up and strong and good.  For every negative, sooner or later there comes a positive.

Looking at another unemployment report on the news, and recognising the jobless state of 1 in 6 UK young people as myself only 6 weeks ago, I felt that if I could find work, these people will do too.  If you really want it, there is hope, even though you might feel hopeless.  Just don’t give up.  Everyone is down sometimes – as much as some vindictive people might want to make you feel low, it doesn’t make you a failure or any less of a human being.  You just have to take a moment, acknowledge your pain or mood, regroup and come back swinging.  After a summer where I left my job at the Perfume Shop in full faith that my new job was going to be better paid and a better standard of work, I had to wait around for 2 months before I even got a start date.  Now that I am working, I am pretty happy with my job – my office is comfortable, the people I’m with are nice, my boss appreciates and respects me, the pay rate is higher than what I was on at the shop and I don’t have to bust a gut, while I am treated with more respect and my brains and skill generally is more appreciated.  I don’t feel like I am fighting against anyone just to get through the day – I feel like I am generally being helpful and other people want to help me too – it’s constructive and not an uphill struggle.  Looking back, although I loved working with perfume and some of my colleagues at the Perfume Shop ended up being good friends to me, I dreaded going to work more often than I should have, and I ended up feeling bullied and harrassed at work by people who wanted to wring every last drop of blood out of me.  I was worth more than that, and it took me too long to realise.  The limbo of being unemployed in between that job and my current work at the hospital only exacerbated that feeling of helplessness and worthlessness, when I had unwittingly pushed myself into that limbo precisely because I thought I was worth more.  It was a hard period, and I felt somewhat embarrassed and stigmatised to be in that situation, because I didn’t want to be judged as somebody who was “on the dole” or “too lazy to be in work”, because that is the farthest thing from who I am or ever will be.  But I didn’t give up and everything is turning out right – I like my job, they like me, and I got funding for my university course starting in 3 weeks (!!!) and I hope that that will lead me in a direction I want to go.  I feel optimistic about my future.

Which is why I don’t understand the attitude of some of my old colleagues who practically blank me when I walk past them in town.  It happened today, and it’s not the first time.  Despite the hugs and best wishes everyone gave me when I left, apart from the times I’ve popped in to visit them, I’ve heard nothing.  What happened to friendship? What happened to all the hard work? What happened to all the favours I did, conversations we had, presents I bought, music I bootlegged for them?  Did it really mean nothing?  I mean, surely a friendship should go two ways, so if they want to speak to me, they can contact me.  I grew tired of making the first move and initiating conversation by popping in to see them.  It makes me question whether their friendship was ever true.  Like I said, some of the people there I’m sure were genuine friends, and we don’t have to talk all the time for that to remain true.  But to be ignored in the street, to be judged and hear gossip about me that not only is untrue, but is damn unfair considering how much I bent over backwards and did so many favours for some of them – it does sting a little bit.  I guess it’s “c’est la vie”, and I have to remember that I am in a better place now.  I made the decision to break free, and I guess that their reaction is part of the whole reason why I was so dragged down while I worked there – perhaps they don’t like that I found somewhere where I feel more valued (and paid)?  Perhaps they decided to villify me once my back was turned because it makes them feel better about the fact that there is nobody to be their workhorse now that I’m gone? I don’t know.  I wish them only the best, and I hope that some of my friends realise that they too are worth too much to be downtrodden and worked to the bone at a young age there, only to never get the prime position because there’s always someone new who swoops in and pushes them back down.

If you’re wondering why there is a fly picture of Rihanna at the top of this post (not that I need a reason 😛 ), check the title – it’s taken from the “Run This Town” video from Jay-Z’s new Blueprint 3 album (which I am really feeling).  The swagger of the song, epitomised just by the title, is something that I was feeling today in my nice clothes with my nice friends and in my nice job.  I’m working hard, I’m moving up after a brief (but long enough thankyou) period of stasis, and I am determined to achieve my goals and “run this town”.  I hit the gym to look fly.  I socialise to enjoy myself.  I make music to achieve my dreams of being a singer (once again, check Touch Me and enjoy it – there’s plenty more where that came from!) and also to push my artistry forward and entertain my friends.  I make money to hit the gym, buy my labels and keep everything easy.  I am close to friends and family while also pushing forward for my own independence.  I want, more than anything, to be a success and to be happy.  Isn’t that what we all want?  So this is more than anything, a motivational post because I’m feeling good and want to share that energy with y’all – I can “run this town”, and so can you.  Never give up!!!

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hoax.

August 12, 2009

I remember a quote from Cruel Intentions which is a great place for me to start today.  At some point, Sarah Michelle Gellar’s character says to Selma Blair’s character re. sex (I think), “Everybody does it, but nobody talks about it.”  I feel that I am on to discovering something about office work.

Largely, people sit around doing nothing.

Ok, you can all feel free to say “duh”, but let me walk you through my day at work today.  It is not very long and not particularly exciting.

08:50 Arrive at work, open up my laptop and discover my boss is not going to be in at all this week.  (I only work Weds – Fri)  So much for needing to be “supervised”!  Ever since the first two days of my job, I have worked unaccompanied and contact my boss (who works from home) via email.  Mine are full and courteous and punctuated and friendly, his are one-line responses which suggest he doesn’t really like using the computer.  I won’t take it personally though, because this appears to be how everyone communicates at the hospital.

09:00 I set about delivering the small amounts of stock that need to be distributed to wards.  At the dental hospital, I encounter an intercom that nobody appears to answer.  After 5 minutes, a man walks up to me and informs me that he can’t let me in because he “doesn’t know who I am”.  I show him my clerical NHS badge and he decides to help me.  Once inside the building, I find all the admin desks are manned, so why nobody was answering the intercom remains a mystery to me.

11:15 I attend a Swine Flu Information presentation for half an hour, which involves watching a Powerpoint Presentation while a nurse delivers incredibly obvious statements such as: “Swine flu is different from seasonal flu, because you can catch swine flu all the year round” (I nearly raise my hand and respond “yes, this month is August and therefore not the winter”, but restrain myself) and “if you think you might have swine flu, go on the swine flu website”.  Nevertheless, I stay awake.

12:30 After returning from the presentation, I start doing some more Health & Safety online training (which I’m supposed to do as part of my induction, just as I am supposed to be “supervised” at the start of my placement).  Halfway through a module, it decides to not work, so I go for lunch to McDonalds.  The queue is ridiculous, especially considering that there is another McDonalds about 5 minutes’ walk away.  Obviously it’s the eating venue of choice in central Bristol.  I haven’t been for a couple of months in the interest of my health, but I indulge today and my burger and chips and dips are suitably yummy.  I read some more of Glamorama, which I am thoroughly enjoying.  Bret Easton Ellis is my authorial discovery of the year methinks! (I know, I am late)

13:30 I return to the office, making small talk with one of the nurses and encountering no success with running my Health & Safety tutorial.  I do a couple of other tasks, then return and call the IT Helpdesk for the third day running on this job.  (I have worked there a total of 4 days.) I inform them of the problem, and the guy valiantly tries to fix it through remote access to my laptop.  Of course, he fails.  I am promised that an engineer will contact me and come to fix the connection issue.  The nurse in the adjacent office tells me just to use one of the vacant computers at a nearby desk, and I finish my tutorial.  I “learn” how to roll my eyes, shrug my shoulders and wiggle my fingers, all in the interests of maintaining flexibility in my limbs and avoiding RSI.  I also defiantly slouch in my chair, rather than obeying the rigid recommended posture (with a picture of a spinal column for my reference).

16:15 I call the IT helpdesk for a third time to inform them that I will be going home, as the engineer hasn’t called and if he were to call now, I wouldn’t be there.  The man on the other end of the phone believes that I am implying that the engineer did not come fast enough, and begins to get huffy with me.  Those exercises came in useful after all: I copiously roll my eyes.  I am promised that somebody will call tomorrow.  I go to the nurse next door, Julia, who has kindly volunteered to sign my timesheet in my boss’ absence, except nobody knows what band or code I am supposed to be entered under.  We go down the corridor to the temp bank office, who inform us that “it doesn’t matter, they can fill it in”.  Julia is as bemused as me, and I go home.

My day seemed to be a battle to find things to do.  I spent quite a lot of empty periods smoking, texting, on MSN on my phone, playing Minesweeper on my laptop, and although I perhaps shouldn’t be complaining, I really am not stimulated!  I am slightly warmed by the fact that I am getting paid for this.  My boss constantly reminds me to “take my time” because I apparently complete his tasks too quickly, but I don’t exactly rush.  Being unsupervised and left to my own devices, and considering that my job involves walking all over the hospital, I could quite happily walk to Starbucks for an hour and have a coffee and read my book, undiscovered and getting paid for it all the while.  I’m not sure if I feel audacious enough to do this, but considering that my boss already emailed me saying “tomorrow will be a light day” (as if today were a heavy one!!!!!!!11), the fact I’m considering it doesn’t bode well.  Well, it does for Starbucks’ pockets and for my caffeine intake, I suppose.  But if this is the working world, and if this is how most people work (I reiterate that I work in a hospital, where time is usually of the essence and in principle, lives hang in the balance) day to day, I am going to need more stimulation.  I dream of working for Gucci, for Armani, for Prada and shaping the whole world through fashion while rushing from place to place, flanked by fabulous forward-thinking fashionistas and speaking into 3 different cell phones in 3 different languages.  I dream of being a famous singer and travelling day and night from country to country, singing and dancing my ass off and making hordes of people smile and laugh.  I don’t particularly dream of daydreaming (how meta) as I sit uninterrupted at my desk, typing emails and maintaining spreadsheets, but I guess it is better than the Perfume Shop! It’s certainly easier work for better status and pay, but I just feel like I am uncovering a big hoax, that the people who do supposedly vital or important jobs aren’t really any brighter than you or me (often, less so).  I guess that I should have known all along. *rolls eyes*

h1

the characterisation of cake.

August 1, 2009

While I was writing my previous blog entry, I was talking to one of my best friends Nana about cake.  We are both trying to get fit and not fat, and cake gets in the way.  Lately, my mother has been bringing home iced madeira cake, with little layers of cream and raspberry jam in the middle, and it’s absolutely delicious and irresistible, and plays havoc with my spreadsheet where I plot the nights that I do snack after dinner against the nights that I don’t (I have improved a lot in the last 5 months! I currently stand at not snacking 68% of nights, and my aim for August is to get to 75%).  This is the conversation (Nana is “Back in London”, I am “chase – lycanthropy” – but then, you didn’t need me to tell you that if you’ve been reading 😉 ) :

11:59:32 Back in London :-): ohhh yes

11:59:48 Back in London :-): ahh cake 😀

11:59:52 chase – lycanthropy: hah

11:59:58 chase – lycanthropy: cake is my friend and my enemy

12:00:15 Back in London :-): yes

12:00:23 Back in London :-): i have a love hate relationship with cake too

12:00:45 Back in London :-): he has me wrapped around his finger…

12:00:50 Back in London :-): makes me want him more when i know i shouldn’t

12:01:31 chase – lycanthropy: haha you think of cake as a man

12:01:34 chase – lycanthropy: i think of cake as a woman

12:01:39 chase – lycanthropy: but yes i know what you mean

12:01:47 chase – lycanthropy: iced madeira cake is especially tempting

12:01:52 chase – lycanthropy: also toffee cheesecake

12:01:58 chase – lycanthropy: (which is what my nan serves)

12:02:33 Back in London :-): omg

12:02:37 Back in London :-): maybe i should just come to bristol today

12:02:38 Back in London :-): lol

12:06:55 chase – lycanthropy: :p

12:07:05 chase – lycanthropy: i am going to write a blog about this conversation we have had about cake, you know

12:07:06 chase – lycanthropy: i can see it now

12:08:02 Back in London :-): hahaha

12:08:11 Back in London :-): i look forward to it 😉

12:08:13 chase – lycanthropy: 😀

The thing I find most interesting is that Nana thought of cake as a “male” thing, whereas I envisioned cake as more of a female temptress, weaving her web around me and drawing me in closer.  It’s funny how people’s minds work and differ.  I am used to the idea, after years and years of language study, of the idea of nouns being masculine or feminine; interestingly, “gâteau” is masculine in the French, and “pastel” in the Spanish is also masculine.  But “tarte” (French) and “tarta” (Spanish) are both feminine.  So unless we’re being really specific about what kind of cake we’re eating (whether it is a big cheesecake, or a slab of marble sponge), either gender could go.  I guess another reason why I think of cake as feminine is because until you’ve eaten 3 slices and it’s sitting in your stomach (something I genuinely don’t do very often, I promise), cake is a dainty, light creature, with pretty pastel colours of icing and soft, sweet flavours.  In other words, to me, cake isn’t exactly grr butch.  But obviously now I’m gender stereotyping, and I like people to think that I am sweet and seductive (at least some of the time, when my façade isn’t being icy cold).
I watched Transamerica and it’s funny how that film links in. I’m not going to do an in-depth review of it or anything, you can get those elsewhere.  But Felicity Huffman and Kevin Zegers both expertly played flawed yet beautiful characters who shone in the midst of an occasionally hokey script.  And we all have a quest to work out who we are, because society demands to put us in a box of its own conventions – he, she, gay, straight, etc.  We can’t just be because then nobody knows where they stand and how to “understand” us (the joke being that they’d rather not spend the time trying).  And I think, in a practical, day-to-day way, I can understand that.  If we spent time trying to suss out every single person who came our way and honestly made the effort to see who they really are, we’d never get anything done.  Labels never tell the whole story, but I can appreciate that they exist for a reason.  But when the label is wrong, then the misunderstood person has a lot of ground to catch up, all the while feeling like an outsider just waiting for someone to see the beauty of who they are, beyond what they are, regardless of sexuality or gender.  At least cake doesn’t have that problem – whether we think of it as a he or she, at least we are in no doubt as to how marvellous it both looks and tastes!
(ps. Nana, I hope you don’t mind me posting the snippet of our conversation up here – nothing private was said so I hope it is fine! Let me know 🙂 )