Boody 'ell, I'm really not made for working! Or rather, I'm not made for getting up early in the morning, every morning. In the past 10 days or so I've been training for the new job, at different locations. The nearest is about an hour from home, the farthest about 2 1/2 hours. That is also the one I would be eventually based at, and latest clocking in time is 9 am. I have a problem, don't I? Especially because I've unexpectedly had a brilliant time since I started, especially last week. My co-new starters are a riot, really lovely people. This week we've been merged with another group that I can't say I'm particularly enamoured of, but hey, I won't be working with them so that's fine.
Last week I even managed to walk a lot, although this week it's proving much harder, with the different location.
The first job contacted me yesterday to request a further referee, as I had given two from the same organisation and they can't accept two from the same organisation. I explained I'd been there for about 13 years so I had no other work referees, really, and the lady helpfully suggested I could use non-work people from any organisation, such as voluntary organisations I've been involved with, or church, etc...
I thought it might be better not to mention that if I get anywhere near a church 1 - I start sneezing and 2 - the water in the font starts boiling over. As for voluntary organisations, the only one I've really been involved with is the community garden project, that doesn't have a leader. We kind of lead it as a group, so I'd be writing my own character reference, sort of thing.
There were two other people I could think of, who I am sure would give me excellent references, possibly even checking them with me before sending them off. One is the tutor I had last summer on the Community Interpreting course. She told me to my face I was one of the top students she'd had so I'd be pretty safe there. Unfortunately she's only known me for the two months I was on the course, which started less than 6 months ago, so I doubt they would accept her word.
The other one is Pauline, my ex counsellor. She's known me for almost 10 years, over 8 of which I was seeing her more or less every week. I stopped seeing her when I was made redundant as I couldn't afford it any more but we've kept in touch. She'd also give me a brilliant reference, but I was a bit concerned how it would look like, basically introducing myself as a nutcase even before I start the job! They'd possibly withdraw the offer :D
I've never made a secret of the problems I've had with stress, anxiety and depression, my previous employer knew all, including the counselling, and people in my private life also know. I don't have a major problem with my prospective employer knowing either, but not before I've had a chance to prove myself so they know I rock, nutcase or not. On the other hand, I have already disclosed all my official medical on the forms I completed for their people to check, so I might as well go all the way and disclose the counselling too. As Pauline pointed out when I spoke to her yesterday to ask if it would be ok with her, given the nature of the job it might even go in my favour. And if the company in question is remotely like the picture I've made of them, they wouldn't use it against anyway. If I have the wrong picture, it's probably better to find out now than later. So, on balance, I think Pauline is a pretty good choice.
I've been pretty good since last week, going to bed reasonably early every night - I mean, it was either that or turn up at work after lunch every day :D
Except last night when I went to see Lisa after work, and didn't get home until past 8 pm. Then I had to do a few things and after those I decided to watch the first part of Henry VIII. Of course I couldn't help but watch it 'till the end, it was so gripping, and I ended up going to sleep at an indecent hour, having to get up just over 4 hours later!
So tonight I've promised myself a very early night, and in a few minutes I'll be in bed with my new book. I've had it lying around for a while, but I was reading other stuff so didn't get round to it until today - and while I was at it, I've also updated my recent reads, which I'd overlooked for a while.
Playing on my iTunes in the last 15 minutes or so:
This;
This - just gimme a kiss!
These; and
This, for a grand finale :)))
Sweet dreams!
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
It's here!
So, tomorrow I'll start work in the "second" job. I'm still waiting for the first one so I thought I'd take this, just in case, and switch as soon as the other people call me. The other day I went to check out the place... can't say I'm too happy, it takes me 1 1/2 hours to get there :s
Oh well, I'll be doing lots of reading then :)
Anyway, I'm slightly panicky... I mean, enjoying my own time for over a year, and suddenly being thrown into 11-12 hours' days (including travel)? How am I going to fit in my walks from now on??? And sleeping in just at the weekend? And being organised? And getting dressed before noon? And how about the leisurely afternoons with friends, or gardening, or just bumming around? Arrrrrggggggghhhhhhhh!
While I was there I had a chat with the lady at reception. I mentioned that the last year (of unemployment) had had its benefits as I'd got fitter, done a few courses, got into gardening (with the added bonus of making friends on the estate for the first time in the 13 years I've lived here), lost weight and so on. She looked at me with absolute terror in her eyes, mumbling "oh no no no no!" as soon as I said "unemployment" and "has benefits" in the same breath. What is it about unemployment that is so terrible? It's true, I've had to cut down on expenses big time, for obvious reasons, but hey, it's not as if most of us don't have everything we need anyway. When deciding if I could accept the redundancy, I took stock of what I used to do and how I spent most of my money. Guess what? I could probably get by quite a few years without ever again buying clothes, household items, or leisure stuff such as books, CDs and DVDs. I have so much stuff that I hardly ever use, and even if I did in rotation it'd be quite a while before I'd get back to the start. I literally don't know where to put clothes anymore. I have hundreds of CDs and books (not too mention that instead of buying them, I could rent them from the library). DVDs I mainly rent for a pittance (and libraries have those too). The only thing I've missed, really, are the concerts but I'm sure I could survive without them (especially since I've won a few through competitions). Most of the money I used to spend when I was working went in things and activities that were meant to de-stress, but I've not needed to de-stress since I left work. London offers zillions of opportunities to do nice things and see nice places for free or very little money. Just take a packed lunch with you.
Yeah, nice cars, nice houses, holidays here and there and everywhere, weekends away, a good lifestyle... But is it? Or is it just for status? What's wrong with a small flat, public transport, sensible living within means and without waste? Is it really better to get all the additional things and then be stuck with the payments for the rest of your life, never being able to do what you really want because you're always tied down by the never-ending bills?
I suppose it's easy for me to say, as I have no commitments of any kind and the only thing I have to worry about are the basic bills, like gas, electric, that sort of stuff. If you have a family, or if you've never worked, it might be a tad harder to be able to shrug everything away. Of course it's also possible to take some time off here, due to the social security systems in place in the UK which are lacking in a lot of other places.
And I'm grateful that I had the chance in the past year... tomorrow, back to the grind :)
Oh well, I'll be doing lots of reading then :)
Anyway, I'm slightly panicky... I mean, enjoying my own time for over a year, and suddenly being thrown into 11-12 hours' days (including travel)? How am I going to fit in my walks from now on??? And sleeping in just at the weekend? And being organised? And getting dressed before noon? And how about the leisurely afternoons with friends, or gardening, or just bumming around? Arrrrrggggggghhhhhhhh!
While I was there I had a chat with the lady at reception. I mentioned that the last year (of unemployment) had had its benefits as I'd got fitter, done a few courses, got into gardening (with the added bonus of making friends on the estate for the first time in the 13 years I've lived here), lost weight and so on. She looked at me with absolute terror in her eyes, mumbling "oh no no no no!" as soon as I said "unemployment" and "has benefits" in the same breath. What is it about unemployment that is so terrible? It's true, I've had to cut down on expenses big time, for obvious reasons, but hey, it's not as if most of us don't have everything we need anyway. When deciding if I could accept the redundancy, I took stock of what I used to do and how I spent most of my money. Guess what? I could probably get by quite a few years without ever again buying clothes, household items, or leisure stuff such as books, CDs and DVDs. I have so much stuff that I hardly ever use, and even if I did in rotation it'd be quite a while before I'd get back to the start. I literally don't know where to put clothes anymore. I have hundreds of CDs and books (not too mention that instead of buying them, I could rent them from the library). DVDs I mainly rent for a pittance (and libraries have those too). The only thing I've missed, really, are the concerts but I'm sure I could survive without them (especially since I've won a few through competitions). Most of the money I used to spend when I was working went in things and activities that were meant to de-stress, but I've not needed to de-stress since I left work. London offers zillions of opportunities to do nice things and see nice places for free or very little money. Just take a packed lunch with you.
Yeah, nice cars, nice houses, holidays here and there and everywhere, weekends away, a good lifestyle... But is it? Or is it just for status? What's wrong with a small flat, public transport, sensible living within means and without waste? Is it really better to get all the additional things and then be stuck with the payments for the rest of your life, never being able to do what you really want because you're always tied down by the never-ending bills?
I suppose it's easy for me to say, as I have no commitments of any kind and the only thing I have to worry about are the basic bills, like gas, electric, that sort of stuff. If you have a family, or if you've never worked, it might be a tad harder to be able to shrug everything away. Of course it's also possible to take some time off here, due to the social security systems in place in the UK which are lacking in a lot of other places.
And I'm grateful that I had the chance in the past year... tomorrow, back to the grind :)
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The Great Unwashed... the End
After just under a year of (welcome) unemployment, I started looking around in September. In the last couple of weeks I've been informed that both the applications I'd made since had been successful (including tests, interviews, etc...) pending background checks.
It seems I'll be rejoining the working masses soon!
It's strange. One of the two jobs (the one I will accept), is something I'm pretty sure I'll love and I'm quite keen to start. On the other hand, I've throughly enjoyed my time off and I'll miss having all this time to do things I like whenever I like, seeing friends, going for walks, reading, listening to music, eating properly and generally not being stressed out.
Hopefully the company I'll be working for is much better than my previous one, and that will keep the stress at bay :)
Today I was supposed to go to their head office to bring them various documents they need to see to progress the recruitment. As I was getting ready to go out, I grabbed a drink out of the fridge to take with me. As I was putting it in my bag I thought: hmmmm, strange... this doesn't feel very cold.
Then it dawned on me. On Monday I had guys from the council round to do an electrical safety test. After they left I kept finding stuff unplugged (they'd had to unplug everything to check the sockets) up until I went to bed, when I couldn't turn on the bedside lamp.
It never occurred to me to go around the flat checking everything was plugged in... and of course the fridge was also unplugged, as I realised this morning. I didn't notice before because I have a super-duper fridge freezer that keeps its temperature for ages even when switched off, provided the door isn't opened. I'd opened it a few times to take milk or food out but usually I only open a tiny bit, stick my hand in and retrieve it holding the item I wanted, without even looking in. Also, the internal light not always comes on so it didn't register when it didn't light up these past few days. And thankfully I had never opened the freezer since Monday.
Still, it was 3 days so I really panicked and called the council in despair. I explained the situation and that I had a couple of hundred pounds worth of food in the freezer that I didn't dare open and WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!!!
A few minutes later the two electricians that were here on Monday sheepishly turned up at my door to check. They were really apologetic and opened the freezer to check the damage. To my relief, most stuff was still frozen. The only things that had defrosted were those in the first drawer. Everything else was fine. Even the things that had defrosted were still extremely cold. We all heaved a sigh of relief, even though one of the guys got his hand covered in what seemed like blood. It was the juice from the defrosted forest fruits that had run all over the place :)))
Thanks Mr Bosch, I knew I was getting a good deal when I bought your appliances over ten years ago!
I am now busy cooking 2 1/2 kilos of salmon, a few bags of mixed seafood and some meat so I can freeze it again before it spoils - and dinner tonight? Forest fruits, of course!
Of course I had to call my future employer to explain the situation and ask them if it was ok for me to go tomorrow with all the paperwork, instead of today. I bet they're already regretting their choice :D :D :D
It seems I'll be rejoining the working masses soon!
It's strange. One of the two jobs (the one I will accept), is something I'm pretty sure I'll love and I'm quite keen to start. On the other hand, I've throughly enjoyed my time off and I'll miss having all this time to do things I like whenever I like, seeing friends, going for walks, reading, listening to music, eating properly and generally not being stressed out.
Hopefully the company I'll be working for is much better than my previous one, and that will keep the stress at bay :)
Today I was supposed to go to their head office to bring them various documents they need to see to progress the recruitment. As I was getting ready to go out, I grabbed a drink out of the fridge to take with me. As I was putting it in my bag I thought: hmmmm, strange... this doesn't feel very cold.
Then it dawned on me. On Monday I had guys from the council round to do an electrical safety test. After they left I kept finding stuff unplugged (they'd had to unplug everything to check the sockets) up until I went to bed, when I couldn't turn on the bedside lamp.
It never occurred to me to go around the flat checking everything was plugged in... and of course the fridge was also unplugged, as I realised this morning. I didn't notice before because I have a super-duper fridge freezer that keeps its temperature for ages even when switched off, provided the door isn't opened. I'd opened it a few times to take milk or food out but usually I only open a tiny bit, stick my hand in and retrieve it holding the item I wanted, without even looking in. Also, the internal light not always comes on so it didn't register when it didn't light up these past few days. And thankfully I had never opened the freezer since Monday.
Still, it was 3 days so I really panicked and called the council in despair. I explained the situation and that I had a couple of hundred pounds worth of food in the freezer that I didn't dare open and WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!!!
A few minutes later the two electricians that were here on Monday sheepishly turned up at my door to check. They were really apologetic and opened the freezer to check the damage. To my relief, most stuff was still frozen. The only things that had defrosted were those in the first drawer. Everything else was fine. Even the things that had defrosted were still extremely cold. We all heaved a sigh of relief, even though one of the guys got his hand covered in what seemed like blood. It was the juice from the defrosted forest fruits that had run all over the place :)))
Thanks Mr Bosch, I knew I was getting a good deal when I bought your appliances over ten years ago!
I am now busy cooking 2 1/2 kilos of salmon, a few bags of mixed seafood and some meat so I can freeze it again before it spoils - and dinner tonight? Forest fruits, of course!
Of course I had to call my future employer to explain the situation and ask them if it was ok for me to go tomorrow with all the paperwork, instead of today. I bet they're already regretting their choice :D :D :D
Monday, November 09, 2009
Beautiful people
The other week I bumped into an old colleague I hadn't seen for ages. He invited me to the end of year party his (Nigerian) community was having this weekend.
On Saturday he called me to remind me of it. To be honest, I was quite hesitant. I don't like crowds, and being in an unknown place surrounded by people I don't know sends me into a right panic. But I like the guy, I used to enjoy working with him, so I said yes, of course I'll be there.
Yesterday I wasn't feeling too well which, added to the panic above, meant I almost didn't go. However, in the end I kicked myself up the backside and forced myself to go out. Worst-case scenario, it was a good excuse for a walk and I could always come home without going in.
I found the place, and went in. He was busy dj-ing so I sat in a corner by the door, always ready to bolt out. Initially it wasn't too bad; I'd arrived pretty early and the place was half empty, so it felt pretty ok. As the evening progressed and people kept coming, I started getting more and more nervous and trying to blend in with the wallpaper, eyeing the door. People would smile at me and say hi as they came in, but I didn't know anyone so I felt really out of place and conspicuous. I think the only reason I stayed was that I was absolutely fascinated by the women there. I don't know if I'm the only one, but I think Nigerian women know a thing or two about how to impress: their clothes are wonderfully colourful and bright, and what can I say about the headgear? I used to work with a woman who occasionally would come to work in full Nigerian dress, but a room-full of them? I just couldn't take my eyes off!
Eventually my friend came to ask me why I wasn't sitting at one of the tables, so I told him I didn't know anyone and felt a bit weird. No problem - he moved my chair to the nearest table, had a word with one of the ladies sitting there to introduce me and told me to sit there!
We chatted a bit and she explained what was happening as various people made little speeches. The first one was the presentation of the kola nut, a Nigerian tradition to welcome guests in the house: the male hosts present and break the nut, and after everybody has partaken of it the party starts.
After that the food started arriving. All home-made stuff made by members of the community, all absolutely delicious - I ate it even though I don't usually have hot, spicy foods as they make me hiccup, but it was too good too pass! There were mountains of it, and all through the evening people kept passing around the tables with more, asking if I'd had enough food and drink, if they could get me something else, if I was ok, if I was hungry - even at the end of the night as I was getting ready to leave!
Between courses there were traditional dances and more speeches. One of the dances was designed to get children involved and amused (there were lots of them!). The Abigbo dance was stunning. People moving to the rhythm of a trance-like music, a crescendo of tribal sounds culminating in a final release of colour. I stood on the edge, watching enthralled.
A lady told me that it's a stress-reliever. She invited me to try it for myself, dance to the music and see how all my muscles would relax :)
Talking about which, I was invited to dance. One of the ladies came to ask me but I declined as I felt too embarrassed, what with my two left feet... Then another lady asked me and she wouldn't take no for an answer so I was dragged in. I felt incredibly self-conscious and wish I hadn't. Must try harder next time :)
I also wish I'd taken my other mobile with me because the pictures I took with the one I had don't half give justice to the amazing dresses!
A great evening, with beautiful, friendly, kind, hospitable, truly community-minded people. I'm grateful to my old colleague for inviting me and very thankful to all there for making me feel so welcome.
On Saturday he called me to remind me of it. To be honest, I was quite hesitant. I don't like crowds, and being in an unknown place surrounded by people I don't know sends me into a right panic. But I like the guy, I used to enjoy working with him, so I said yes, of course I'll be there.
Yesterday I wasn't feeling too well which, added to the panic above, meant I almost didn't go. However, in the end I kicked myself up the backside and forced myself to go out. Worst-case scenario, it was a good excuse for a walk and I could always come home without going in.
I found the place, and went in. He was busy dj-ing so I sat in a corner by the door, always ready to bolt out. Initially it wasn't too bad; I'd arrived pretty early and the place was half empty, so it felt pretty ok. As the evening progressed and people kept coming, I started getting more and more nervous and trying to blend in with the wallpaper, eyeing the door. People would smile at me and say hi as they came in, but I didn't know anyone so I felt really out of place and conspicuous. I think the only reason I stayed was that I was absolutely fascinated by the women there. I don't know if I'm the only one, but I think Nigerian women know a thing or two about how to impress: their clothes are wonderfully colourful and bright, and what can I say about the headgear? I used to work with a woman who occasionally would come to work in full Nigerian dress, but a room-full of them? I just couldn't take my eyes off!
Eventually my friend came to ask me why I wasn't sitting at one of the tables, so I told him I didn't know anyone and felt a bit weird. No problem - he moved my chair to the nearest table, had a word with one of the ladies sitting there to introduce me and told me to sit there!
We chatted a bit and she explained what was happening as various people made little speeches. The first one was the presentation of the kola nut, a Nigerian tradition to welcome guests in the house: the male hosts present and break the nut, and after everybody has partaken of it the party starts.
After that the food started arriving. All home-made stuff made by members of the community, all absolutely delicious - I ate it even though I don't usually have hot, spicy foods as they make me hiccup, but it was too good too pass! There were mountains of it, and all through the evening people kept passing around the tables with more, asking if I'd had enough food and drink, if they could get me something else, if I was ok, if I was hungry - even at the end of the night as I was getting ready to leave!
Between courses there were traditional dances and more speeches. One of the dances was designed to get children involved and amused (there were lots of them!). The Abigbo dance was stunning. People moving to the rhythm of a trance-like music, a crescendo of tribal sounds culminating in a final release of colour. I stood on the edge, watching enthralled.
A lady told me that it's a stress-reliever. She invited me to try it for myself, dance to the music and see how all my muscles would relax :)
Talking about which, I was invited to dance. One of the ladies came to ask me but I declined as I felt too embarrassed, what with my two left feet... Then another lady asked me and she wouldn't take no for an answer so I was dragged in. I felt incredibly self-conscious and wish I hadn't. Must try harder next time :)
I also wish I'd taken my other mobile with me because the pictures I took with the one I had don't half give justice to the amazing dresses!
A great evening, with beautiful, friendly, kind, hospitable, truly community-minded people. I'm grateful to my old colleague for inviting me and very thankful to all there for making me feel so welcome.
Monday, November 02, 2009
I was wrong
There's a girl I've known for almost 15 years. I've always quite liked her as she's generally sunny and good company, but I never thought much of her values and some of her attitudes to life. I always thought she was a bit on the selfish side and a user. That's probably another reason I liked her so much, because we're so different and part of me was fascinated by this difference. Then she had a child a few years ago. Maybe having this child changed something in her, or more likely I was just wrong in my assessment of her, but whatever the reason, I've been finding her more and more of a rock in the past year or so.
It started when I was debating whether to accept the redundancy, over a year ago; it continued in the month just before I was made redundant, when I was panicking about being jobless for practically the first time in my life and telling myself I'd made the wrong choice.
And suddenly I had all this time on my hands, which meant I saw a lot more of her than at any other time since I met her (although not as much as I'd envisioned while I was still working, as I ended up being quite busy even without a job). Almost naturally I started spilling the beans when things weren't exactly as I would have hoped, on whatever front.
And there's a time for sympathy, but there's also a time for having some sense slapped in your face. Lisa is pretty good at that. She somehow manages to be there, when her own life is all over the place, and say just the right thing at the right time. She can be very brutal, but the important thing is that she's usually right and it's good to be reminded of a few home truths by someone you know is on your side and knows exactly what you're talking about, however brutal they might be at that moment.
It's pretty good to be reminded that things are really simple. They're only as complicated as you want them to be, but in reality they're pretty clear cut.
And in the past few weeks she's reminded me that I'm not as bad as I'd started to feel about myself; that if you care for someone you respect them; that you should never give unconditionally; that if you haven't learnt basic laws of simple human decency by the time you're 30, well, that's really nobody else's problems but yours and why should anyone bother explaining them to you; that I'm not responsible for anybody's problems that they brought upon themselves, therefore I shouldn't worry too much and pussyfoot around in fear of making them worse and feeling guilty about them; that you should only do something if it's good for you, even if it might indirectly negatively affect someone who's been hurting you for months with no thoughts of how badly they were making you feel. Most of all, that a liar's a liar's a liar. Very simple.
All obvious stuff, isn't it? But sometimes I do need to have it brutally slapped in my face, and this time was one of those.
And it's good to have friends, even (especially?) if they prove you wrong :)
It started when I was debating whether to accept the redundancy, over a year ago; it continued in the month just before I was made redundant, when I was panicking about being jobless for practically the first time in my life and telling myself I'd made the wrong choice.
And suddenly I had all this time on my hands, which meant I saw a lot more of her than at any other time since I met her (although not as much as I'd envisioned while I was still working, as I ended up being quite busy even without a job). Almost naturally I started spilling the beans when things weren't exactly as I would have hoped, on whatever front.
And there's a time for sympathy, but there's also a time for having some sense slapped in your face. Lisa is pretty good at that. She somehow manages to be there, when her own life is all over the place, and say just the right thing at the right time. She can be very brutal, but the important thing is that she's usually right and it's good to be reminded of a few home truths by someone you know is on your side and knows exactly what you're talking about, however brutal they might be at that moment.
It's pretty good to be reminded that things are really simple. They're only as complicated as you want them to be, but in reality they're pretty clear cut.
And in the past few weeks she's reminded me that I'm not as bad as I'd started to feel about myself; that if you care for someone you respect them; that you should never give unconditionally; that if you haven't learnt basic laws of simple human decency by the time you're 30, well, that's really nobody else's problems but yours and why should anyone bother explaining them to you; that I'm not responsible for anybody's problems that they brought upon themselves, therefore I shouldn't worry too much and pussyfoot around in fear of making them worse and feeling guilty about them; that you should only do something if it's good for you, even if it might indirectly negatively affect someone who's been hurting you for months with no thoughts of how badly they were making you feel. Most of all, that a liar's a liar's a liar. Very simple.
All obvious stuff, isn't it? But sometimes I do need to have it brutally slapped in my face, and this time was one of those.
And it's good to have friends, even (especially?) if they prove you wrong :)
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Why I love Britain
For the British sense of humour.
Exhibit 1:
Exhibit 2:
Now I'm scared :D
Exhibit 1:
"You know it cannot have been a good night when you get into a fight with Spider-Man and two cross-dressing men."
Exhibit 2:
"While we respect people's right to protest peacefully, the safety of the community is paramount. If you want to come to Manchester to protest don't get involved in disorder as you will get dealt with in a positive, firm and appropriate manner."
Now I'm scared :D
Friday, October 09, 2009
Old friends...
Not seen since I broke my ankle 7 years ago. I had to stop using them as they were hurting my foot, but yesterday I thought I'd try them on again, so I rummaged in the cupboard, and here they are :)
Interview went appallingly, as expected, and I went for a walk through Kensington Gardens afterwards, to de-stress.
Interview went appallingly, as expected, and I went for a walk through Kensington Gardens afterwards, to de-stress.
Friday, October 02, 2009
What are the chances?!?
I've been applying for jobs lately, and this week I had two tests for two different jobs. The people I did the second test for told me I'd passed it and gave me an appointment for an interview lasting two hours, next week.
I have just received a call from the people I did the first test for and they gave me an appointment for an interview at the exact same time of the other one!
I tried asking if they could do any other time next week but it wasn't possible, so on Monday I'll have to call the others and blag a different time from them. I foresee a hospital appointment letter dropping on my door step tomorrow morning!
All I need now is the other three companies I've applied to ringing me on Monday for tests at the same time!
I have just received a call from the people I did the first test for and they gave me an appointment for an interview at the exact same time of the other one!
I tried asking if they could do any other time next week but it wasn't possible, so on Monday I'll have to call the others and blag a different time from them. I foresee a hospital appointment letter dropping on my door step tomorrow morning!
All I need now is the other three companies I've applied to ringing me on Monday for tests at the same time!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Pandemic or mass hysteria???
I think I might have bronchitis. At the moment it feels like a very rough cold but I'm feeling like I did last year when everybody I knew kept telling me to go to the doctor's, and I kept telling them to bugger off 'cos there's no point bothering with a doctor for a cold, as you just have to let it run its course. About four weeks later I was half dead in bed, stuffed with antibiotics for bronchitis, tonsillitis and some other "itis" I can't remember.
Anyway, this time I thought I'd see the doctor sooner, before it blows out of proportion, so I went to the surgery. I glanced at the notice on the door saying that if you had certain symptoms you shouldn't enter the surgery but call the helpline instead, but as I was lacking the main one (i.e.: high temperature), I went in. At the time I went there I was actually feeling quite ill as I'd been out a few hours and not taken any remedies such as Lemsip for a while, and I'd been carrying shopping. I had a runny nose, a blinding headache and I was aching all over. I also had a slight temperature, but nothing near warning levels. With perfect timing I started coughing just as the receptionist was talking to me and I was telling her the symptoms and asking to see the doctor as soon as possible. This is when her face changed. A look of complete terror appeared on her face, and stepping back from the counter as far as she could without exiting the room through the wall she handed me the national pandemic helpline number advising me to call them. To no avail I tried to explain that the symptoms I had were due to a cold, not 'flu, that I had no temperature at the moment and that it felt as if it was turning into bronchitis like it did last year.
Just to make her happy I did call them when I got home, and after having a good laugh they advised me to go and see the doctor. What a surprise!
The following day (yesterday) I stayed in all day and was feeling a bit better so instead of calling for an emergency appointment I just made a normal one for Monday. By then it will have gone if it's a cold, while if it's bronchitis I can still have the antibiotics.
We shall see.
By the way, if you think you might have 'flu, do not go to see the doctor, but call the helpline on 0800 15 13 100.
You should contact them if If you or a member of your family has a fever or high temperature (over 38°C/100.4°F) and two or more of the following symptoms:
unusual tiredness,
headache,
runny nose,
sore throat,
shortness of breath or cough,
loss of appetite,
aching muscles,
diarrhoea or vomiting.
Please note: unless you have a high temperature, it's probably not 'flu and the antivirals won't work, so go and see the doctor instead :)
Anyway, this time I thought I'd see the doctor sooner, before it blows out of proportion, so I went to the surgery. I glanced at the notice on the door saying that if you had certain symptoms you shouldn't enter the surgery but call the helpline instead, but as I was lacking the main one (i.e.: high temperature), I went in. At the time I went there I was actually feeling quite ill as I'd been out a few hours and not taken any remedies such as Lemsip for a while, and I'd been carrying shopping. I had a runny nose, a blinding headache and I was aching all over. I also had a slight temperature, but nothing near warning levels. With perfect timing I started coughing just as the receptionist was talking to me and I was telling her the symptoms and asking to see the doctor as soon as possible. This is when her face changed. A look of complete terror appeared on her face, and stepping back from the counter as far as she could without exiting the room through the wall she handed me the national pandemic helpline number advising me to call them. To no avail I tried to explain that the symptoms I had were due to a cold, not 'flu, that I had no temperature at the moment and that it felt as if it was turning into bronchitis like it did last year.
Just to make her happy I did call them when I got home, and after having a good laugh they advised me to go and see the doctor. What a surprise!
The following day (yesterday) I stayed in all day and was feeling a bit better so instead of calling for an emergency appointment I just made a normal one for Monday. By then it will have gone if it's a cold, while if it's bronchitis I can still have the antibiotics.
We shall see.
By the way, if you think you might have 'flu, do not go to see the doctor, but call the helpline on 0800 15 13 100.
You should contact them if If you or a member of your family has a fever or high temperature (over 38°C/100.4°F) and two or more of the following symptoms:
unusual tiredness,
headache,
runny nose,
sore throat,
shortness of breath or cough,
loss of appetite,
aching muscles,
diarrhoea or vomiting.
Please note: unless you have a high temperature, it's probably not 'flu and the antivirals won't work, so go and see the doctor instead :)
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The "English" Cemetery
So called by virtue of being a Protestant cemetery and Protestantism being regarded as an almost exclusively English thing :)
It's in fact Swiss-owned and sits in the middle of Piazzale Donatello in Florence. It's the burial place of several artists, writers, philosophers, architects and generally "arty" people from the Protestant world (mainly English as they had a large community in Florence in the 19th century) who chose to make Florence their home. Among them: J.P. Vieusseux, A.H. Clough, W.S. Landor, Frances Trollope and Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
It's in fact Swiss-owned and sits in the middle of Piazzale Donatello in Florence. It's the burial place of several artists, writers, philosophers, architects and generally "arty" people from the Protestant world (mainly English as they had a large community in Florence in the 19th century) who chose to make Florence their home. Among them: J.P. Vieusseux, A.H. Clough, W.S. Landor, Frances Trollope and Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
Monday, September 21, 2009
You shall go to the wedding!
And I did, in the end. After my last blog on the matter, my cousin wrote me a letter. I was very surprised to receive it and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pleased too. Her letter laid a few things to rest and was a clear offer of peace, so I decided I could go to the wedding.
What I didn't count on was that I'd end up as the official interpreter, thus making a complete fool of myself :D
I was asked three days in advance so that gave me time to prepare myself and obtain the text of the ceremony from the City Hall, so I could translate it and then just read from it during proceedings. However, on the day a ready-made translation was shoved in front of me and I was told to just read from it. As this translation wasn't exactly brilliant, I kept half reading from it and half reading from the original text and interpreting/translating the registrar's words and the written text, getting very confused in the meantime.
The worst bit came right at the end, when the registrar ad-libbed a few well wishes. She whispered to me that she'd use simple words so as to make it easier. I thought about telling her to forget the simple words and make short sentences instead, stopping every 2 or 3 so I could interpret, but in the end decided not to as I had the feeling that it would be a very short thing anyway. Wrong! She just started talking and went on and on. I was trying to catch her eye to tell her to stop but failed, so when she finally shut up I'd forgotten the entire thing. Ooops!
I don't know if that was the most cringe-worthy moment, or if it was the one that followed shortly after in the town square, when the bride and groom were doing the rounds with friends and family and we were all milling around waiting to move on to the restaurant. I saw a woman coming towards me smiling, and saying: "Raingod! How good to see you! How are you?".
I think the entirely empty and slightly panicky look in my eyes stopped her in her tracks. I had no idea who she was or how I knew her. She then informed me that she'd spent almost a month at my place years ago, when she was in London. I still couldn't remember. Double oops!
Anyway, apart from those two "minor" details, it was a great day. Cousin looked absolutely gorgeous and the groom and his family are lovely, so the celebrations went really well.
What I didn't count on was that I'd end up as the official interpreter, thus making a complete fool of myself :D
I was asked three days in advance so that gave me time to prepare myself and obtain the text of the ceremony from the City Hall, so I could translate it and then just read from it during proceedings. However, on the day a ready-made translation was shoved in front of me and I was told to just read from it. As this translation wasn't exactly brilliant, I kept half reading from it and half reading from the original text and interpreting/translating the registrar's words and the written text, getting very confused in the meantime.
The worst bit came right at the end, when the registrar ad-libbed a few well wishes. She whispered to me that she'd use simple words so as to make it easier. I thought about telling her to forget the simple words and make short sentences instead, stopping every 2 or 3 so I could interpret, but in the end decided not to as I had the feeling that it would be a very short thing anyway. Wrong! She just started talking and went on and on. I was trying to catch her eye to tell her to stop but failed, so when she finally shut up I'd forgotten the entire thing. Ooops!
I don't know if that was the most cringe-worthy moment, or if it was the one that followed shortly after in the town square, when the bride and groom were doing the rounds with friends and family and we were all milling around waiting to move on to the restaurant. I saw a woman coming towards me smiling, and saying: "Raingod! How good to see you! How are you?".
I think the entirely empty and slightly panicky look in my eyes stopped her in her tracks. I had no idea who she was or how I knew her. She then informed me that she'd spent almost a month at my place years ago, when she was in London. I still couldn't remember. Double oops!
Anyway, apart from those two "minor" details, it was a great day. Cousin looked absolutely gorgeous and the groom and his family are lovely, so the celebrations went really well.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Crouch Hill gargoyle
This guy seems ready to jump out at you as you go by along the Parkland Walk. Still, I find him quite charming.
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Friday, September 04, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Responsibility? What responsibility?
What is it with men and commitment?
You meet someone, have a chat, get on really well together, have common aspirations. In the early days they're all over you like a rash, keep chasing you up and pushing for things to move faster. They swear blind that they'll support you and make sure you'll never be let down, tell you they'll always be there, say you can count on them and they'll make sure that things will work. A day doesn't go by without them contacting you, telling you they can't wait to get together and get things off the ground, that they really want you to join in what promises to be a great meeting of kindred spirits. They'll teach you, they'll guide you, they'll show you the way.
You're scared. It's something so far out of your comfort zone that you really doubt you can make it. But they so go on and on that it will work out that you start feeling safe, that should you get stuck they'll promptly step in and help you out, make sure your beautiful partnership will be so strong you'll never regret it. So your confidence builds up and you tentatively go for it. You're at the planning stages and talk and talk and talk, you've no idea what you're doing but they're so confident and full of themselves, telling you they'll always be there for you. And you make plans, you draw guidelines, you decide what you'll be doing and how...
Everything goes swimmingly, you almost start getting smug at how easy this seems. You're still a bit scared, and occasionally you might feel you can't carry on, but as soon as you mention it they rush in and tell you not to worry, they'll sort everything out. They're in charge!
Then the hard work starts.
Suddenly they're nowhere to be seen. When you call them to ask for help, they're ill, or they're too busy with work just now, or they're away, or their children are demanding their time, or the cat has died. So you try talking to them, offer to lighten up the load; if they can't cope with a full commitment they might be able to settle on something different that makes everybody happy. Oh no, I'll have all or nothing! How dare you offer me a smaller deal when you know perfectly well that I want it all!
And so it was that out of about 15 people at the first community garden meeting, 5 of them male, when there were boxes to build and position, dirt, manure and compost to shovel, heavy stuff to move around, lack of tools to deal with and alternative ideas to be thought, complaints from silly neighbours to negotiate, 10 of them have been turning up in the past couple of months, none of them with testicles. Balls, yes, but testicles? No.
What? Promises and commitment? You mean there's more than words to this if I want it to work??? I'm shocked and confused, never saw this coming! I hadn't realised I'd actually have to stick to my word and carry out my promises when I committed myself to be there. I really, really want to be part of this wonderful project, but you don't mean you thought I'd actually be up for dirtying my hands in horse shit, or do some heavy lifting? I never said I would, did I??? Excuse me, now I must go and attend to the hamster, but don't worry, I'll turn up when all's ready and there's fun to be had (provided Match of the Day isn't on)! And none of those smaller vegetable patches for me, I want the big motherfucking one, of course!
But that's ok, it's cheaper than going to the gym, and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger :)
You meet someone, have a chat, get on really well together, have common aspirations. In the early days they're all over you like a rash, keep chasing you up and pushing for things to move faster. They swear blind that they'll support you and make sure you'll never be let down, tell you they'll always be there, say you can count on them and they'll make sure that things will work. A day doesn't go by without them contacting you, telling you they can't wait to get together and get things off the ground, that they really want you to join in what promises to be a great meeting of kindred spirits. They'll teach you, they'll guide you, they'll show you the way.
You're scared. It's something so far out of your comfort zone that you really doubt you can make it. But they so go on and on that it will work out that you start feeling safe, that should you get stuck they'll promptly step in and help you out, make sure your beautiful partnership will be so strong you'll never regret it. So your confidence builds up and you tentatively go for it. You're at the planning stages and talk and talk and talk, you've no idea what you're doing but they're so confident and full of themselves, telling you they'll always be there for you. And you make plans, you draw guidelines, you decide what you'll be doing and how...
Everything goes swimmingly, you almost start getting smug at how easy this seems. You're still a bit scared, and occasionally you might feel you can't carry on, but as soon as you mention it they rush in and tell you not to worry, they'll sort everything out. They're in charge!
Then the hard work starts.
Suddenly they're nowhere to be seen. When you call them to ask for help, they're ill, or they're too busy with work just now, or they're away, or their children are demanding their time, or the cat has died. So you try talking to them, offer to lighten up the load; if they can't cope with a full commitment they might be able to settle on something different that makes everybody happy. Oh no, I'll have all or nothing! How dare you offer me a smaller deal when you know perfectly well that I want it all!
And so it was that out of about 15 people at the first community garden meeting, 5 of them male, when there were boxes to build and position, dirt, manure and compost to shovel, heavy stuff to move around, lack of tools to deal with and alternative ideas to be thought, complaints from silly neighbours to negotiate, 10 of them have been turning up in the past couple of months, none of them with testicles. Balls, yes, but testicles? No.
What? Promises and commitment? You mean there's more than words to this if I want it to work??? I'm shocked and confused, never saw this coming! I hadn't realised I'd actually have to stick to my word and carry out my promises when I committed myself to be there. I really, really want to be part of this wonderful project, but you don't mean you thought I'd actually be up for dirtying my hands in horse shit, or do some heavy lifting? I never said I would, did I??? Excuse me, now I must go and attend to the hamster, but don't worry, I'll turn up when all's ready and there's fun to be had (provided Match of the Day isn't on)! And none of those smaller vegetable patches for me, I want the big motherfucking one, of course!
But that's ok, it's cheaper than going to the gym, and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger :)
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Fish at Leamington Spa, 8-9 August 2009
Thanks to some great friends, I managed to make this wonderful weekend away in a lovely town I'd never been to before.
Despite hardly drinking at all, I got back wrecked and it took me most of the week to recover (not aided, I might add, by a few spells of heavy gardening!).
However, it was worth it, and here's proof :)))
And of course, the big man himself!
The Company I choose :)))
Despite hardly drinking at all, I got back wrecked and it took me most of the week to recover (not aided, I might add, by a few spells of heavy gardening!).
However, it was worth it, and here's proof :)))
And of course, the big man himself!
The Company I choose :)))
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Busy bees!
Been all over the place lately, and only just got around to uploading a few photos taken some weeks ago. Local woods, flora and fauna :)
Some time ago I posted the picture of a local tree that I love, as when it's in bloom it has some gorgeous colours. I only take pictures with my mobile, so it didn't really look as it really was. Here it is in its full glory, thanks to a friend who took a "proper" picture and let me have it!
According to this lot, you can thank... err... Him :)
Some time ago I posted the picture of a local tree that I love, as when it's in bloom it has some gorgeous colours. I only take pictures with my mobile, so it didn't really look as it really was. Here it is in its full glory, thanks to a friend who took a "proper" picture and let me have it!
According to this lot, you can thank... err... Him :)
Friday, August 07, 2009
Come again?
I've lost a considerable amount of weight lately.
Yesterday I popped in to see my ex manager and colleagues who remarked on it and said: "Oh, now you can stop wearing all those t-shirts and baggy clothes, and wear nice fitted tops and stuff, all feminine and lady-like".
Lady what? I replied. To which they all laughed. They've known me for almost 15 years and I think my complete disregard for clothes and preference for extremely casual wear is no secret.
So I was slightly miffed later in the evening when my aunt called (who's known me since I was born). In the past week or so there's been a major family disagreement: I received an invitation for a cousin's wedding to which I have no intention of going, reason being that I couldn't care less about this cousin.
Obviously she's aunt to both of us so it wouldn't be a good idea to slag her off to her, as that would put her in a position of taking sides, which is not desirable. For this reason I've been trying to be as subtle as possible, without coming out and clearly stating that I don't give a toss about the cousin nor her wedding. A friend being in London on that very weekend has served this purpose very well, as I can't be in two places at the same time.
However, subtlety was obviously being interpreted as "she really wants to be here for the wedding and wishes there was a way of getting out of the friend's arrangements".
So, the conversation went a bit like this:
Aunt: "Well, I understand that she's a very close friend of yours, but see how things go and maybe nearer the time you might decide to attend after all".
Raingod: "Actually, I don't think so, I don't think it would be a good idea".
A: "I understand, really, if it wasn't this friend it'd be easier to make it. But don't worry, there's still time".
R: "...".
A: " And you know, it's not a problem at all 'cos even if you decide at the last minute, there's that black dress you wore some time ago you could use, or one of your linen suits. Even I'm not having anything special done, I'd initially thought about a dress but then the seamstress suggested that a skirt and jacket suit would be better because I can use it again (cue a half hour disquisition about the pros and cons of a summer dress with cardie in September versus a skirt and jacket suit)".
R (and I'm proud to say, I managed to keep the next bit an internal exclamation, not uttering one word of it out loud): "What... the... fuck?!? You and the rest of the family have been playing every guilt trick on the book to force me to attend a fucking wedding I don't give a damn about, of a person I don't give a damn about, and you'd expect *me* to turn up in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt?!?".
R (out loud): "Auntie, friend or no friend, I really think it would be inappropriate to attend the wedding of someone I haven't talked to in 5 years. My cousin could have found the time to ring me some time during those 5 years if she'd been interested, so could I. Fact is, neither of us did, 'cos we weren't interested".
A: "Oh".
Now I've only got the other aunt to deal with (the bride's mother), and my father (the bride's uncle). Fun times ahead!
But the other interesting question arising from yesterday is: why is what you wear so important? Or rather, why do people think that when you lose weight, you automatically acquire an irresistible urge and desire to wear "pretty", feminine, lady-like clothes, after a life time spent happily wearing jeans and t-shirts?
And why do they think you're the tiniest bit bothered about what to wear at a wedding you have made it clear you don't want to go to in the first place???
Enquiring minds need to know.
Yesterday I popped in to see my ex manager and colleagues who remarked on it and said: "Oh, now you can stop wearing all those t-shirts and baggy clothes, and wear nice fitted tops and stuff, all feminine and lady-like".
Lady what? I replied. To which they all laughed. They've known me for almost 15 years and I think my complete disregard for clothes and preference for extremely casual wear is no secret.
So I was slightly miffed later in the evening when my aunt called (who's known me since I was born). In the past week or so there's been a major family disagreement: I received an invitation for a cousin's wedding to which I have no intention of going, reason being that I couldn't care less about this cousin.
Obviously she's aunt to both of us so it wouldn't be a good idea to slag her off to her, as that would put her in a position of taking sides, which is not desirable. For this reason I've been trying to be as subtle as possible, without coming out and clearly stating that I don't give a toss about the cousin nor her wedding. A friend being in London on that very weekend has served this purpose very well, as I can't be in two places at the same time.
However, subtlety was obviously being interpreted as "she really wants to be here for the wedding and wishes there was a way of getting out of the friend's arrangements".
So, the conversation went a bit like this:
Aunt: "Well, I understand that she's a very close friend of yours, but see how things go and maybe nearer the time you might decide to attend after all".
Raingod: "Actually, I don't think so, I don't think it would be a good idea".
A: "I understand, really, if it wasn't this friend it'd be easier to make it. But don't worry, there's still time".
R: "...".
A: " And you know, it's not a problem at all 'cos even if you decide at the last minute, there's that black dress you wore some time ago you could use, or one of your linen suits. Even I'm not having anything special done, I'd initially thought about a dress but then the seamstress suggested that a skirt and jacket suit would be better because I can use it again (cue a half hour disquisition about the pros and cons of a summer dress with cardie in September versus a skirt and jacket suit)".
R (and I'm proud to say, I managed to keep the next bit an internal exclamation, not uttering one word of it out loud): "What... the... fuck?!? You and the rest of the family have been playing every guilt trick on the book to force me to attend a fucking wedding I don't give a damn about, of a person I don't give a damn about, and you'd expect *me* to turn up in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt?!?".
R (out loud): "Auntie, friend or no friend, I really think it would be inappropriate to attend the wedding of someone I haven't talked to in 5 years. My cousin could have found the time to ring me some time during those 5 years if she'd been interested, so could I. Fact is, neither of us did, 'cos we weren't interested".
A: "Oh".
Now I've only got the other aunt to deal with (the bride's mother), and my father (the bride's uncle). Fun times ahead!
But the other interesting question arising from yesterday is: why is what you wear so important? Or rather, why do people think that when you lose weight, you automatically acquire an irresistible urge and desire to wear "pretty", feminine, lady-like clothes, after a life time spent happily wearing jeans and t-shirts?
And why do they think you're the tiniest bit bothered about what to wear at a wedding you have made it clear you don't want to go to in the first place???
Enquiring minds need to know.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Freedom
Of thought, of speech, of expression.
They'll all be a thing of the past in the UK if someone doesn't stop this lot.
In January of this year the Criminal Justice and Immigration Act 2008 came into force in England, part of which deals with the possession of extreme pornographic images. Such images are now illegal to possess even if the act depicted isn't, but only if they are deemed to show something for sexual arousal. Even if nobody involved in the act itself or picture taking or viewing is harmed, even if everybody involved gave their informed consent. On the whole, this is something that stinks of Thought Police a mile off.
More info here: Backlash.
Now something similar is about to go through in Scotland, see here: CAAN.
If that weren't bad enough, some bright spark has now proposed a Bill for *writings*, check it here: Coroners and Justice Bill.
This seems to have come on the back of Darryn Walker being cleared of charges brought under the Obscene Publications Act (info here). Mr Walker lost his job nevertheless, and it's unclear whether he'll be able to have any form of redress. It's useful to note that the arguments given in favour of the relevant parts of the CJIA 2008 were based on the fact that the material that would be criminalised was already illegal under the OPA. This is not true as the new Act has no such text. In essence, if someone goes to trial, their chances of acquittal would stand on the Jury not being a bunch of NotW readers who think such material is disgusting.
Now, I know all this is about pornographic material (and extreme pornography at that), and that we all have different views about what constitutes pornography and even more whether it's a bad or a good thing. However, the central issues here are freedom of thought, freedom of speech, freedom of expression, and human rights.
Please act and make your voice heard, while you still have a chance.
They'll all be a thing of the past in the UK if someone doesn't stop this lot.
In January of this year the Criminal Justice and Immigration Act 2008 came into force in England, part of which deals with the possession of extreme pornographic images. Such images are now illegal to possess even if the act depicted isn't, but only if they are deemed to show something for sexual arousal. Even if nobody involved in the act itself or picture taking or viewing is harmed, even if everybody involved gave their informed consent. On the whole, this is something that stinks of Thought Police a mile off.
More info here: Backlash.
Now something similar is about to go through in Scotland, see here: CAAN.
If that weren't bad enough, some bright spark has now proposed a Bill for *writings*, check it here: Coroners and Justice Bill.
This seems to have come on the back of Darryn Walker being cleared of charges brought under the Obscene Publications Act (info here). Mr Walker lost his job nevertheless, and it's unclear whether he'll be able to have any form of redress. It's useful to note that the arguments given in favour of the relevant parts of the CJIA 2008 were based on the fact that the material that would be criminalised was already illegal under the OPA. This is not true as the new Act has no such text. In essence, if someone goes to trial, their chances of acquittal would stand on the Jury not being a bunch of NotW readers who think such material is disgusting.
Now, I know all this is about pornographic material (and extreme pornography at that), and that we all have different views about what constitutes pornography and even more whether it's a bad or a good thing. However, the central issues here are freedom of thought, freedom of speech, freedom of expression, and human rights.
Please act and make your voice heard, while you still have a chance.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
I can't believe the news today
I thought the worst spin had seen a more or less quiet death with Bliar leaving office, but now it seems the current PM is all for it too.
Gordon, when I wondered if it weren't the ship that should be left to sink while you led the country with a different party, I was joking. I wasn't seriously implying that you should join the BNP. Honest!
There's something called the "Housing Act 1996". It makes quite an interesting read but I'll sum it up briefly here.
To get council housing you need to be a "qualifying person". To be a "qualifying person" you have to meet these criteria:
1 - be homeless or threatened with homelessness
2 - not be intentionally homeless
3 - be in priority need
4 - be eligible for public assistance
5 - have a local connection
As you can see the "local people" are already being taken care of (also by extra points being awarded to children of local residents), but what you might not be aware of, Gordon, is that a person who is subject to immigration controls is not eligible for public assistance (with very few exceptions). Therefore, your very nice words about giving more houses to "local people" (and out of curiosity, would these "local people" be white, Anglo-Saxon Protestants?) are really just a load of bulls, unless of course you want to breach every equality rule in the book.
It's true that there is a "perception" that the current system is unfair, but a government is there to lead, not to react hysterically when they see a few BNP voters. Maybe it went completely over your head, but those seats they gained weren't due to an enormous increase in votes they took, just to the fact that Labour voters stayed at home 'cos they're sick and tired of your crap.
The current perception is due to the fact that there is a dearth of social housing. I don't for a minute profess to know the solution to that, but surely stoking up racist flames isn't it.
In other news: shame that Mr Weaver can't claim the costs on expenses. I almost feel like starting a whip-round.
And relatedly: don't you feel sorry for the Keens? Nor do I.
I have a business suggestion for AEG Live: for anyone who chooses to keep the ticket instead of getting a refund, why not throw in a free MUG, with one of those tacky mirrory thingies stuck on the side?
Finally, for the "You Don't Say!" series: having a lot of sex increases your chances of getting pregnant. And for when I have a headache, please meet Ms Palm.
Gordon, when I wondered if it weren't the ship that should be left to sink while you led the country with a different party, I was joking. I wasn't seriously implying that you should join the BNP. Honest!
There's something called the "Housing Act 1996". It makes quite an interesting read but I'll sum it up briefly here.
To get council housing you need to be a "qualifying person". To be a "qualifying person" you have to meet these criteria:
1 - be homeless or threatened with homelessness
2 - not be intentionally homeless
3 - be in priority need
4 - be eligible for public assistance
5 - have a local connection
As you can see the "local people" are already being taken care of (also by extra points being awarded to children of local residents), but what you might not be aware of, Gordon, is that a person who is subject to immigration controls is not eligible for public assistance (with very few exceptions). Therefore, your very nice words about giving more houses to "local people" (and out of curiosity, would these "local people" be white, Anglo-Saxon Protestants?) are really just a load of bulls, unless of course you want to breach every equality rule in the book.
It's true that there is a "perception" that the current system is unfair, but a government is there to lead, not to react hysterically when they see a few BNP voters. Maybe it went completely over your head, but those seats they gained weren't due to an enormous increase in votes they took, just to the fact that Labour voters stayed at home 'cos they're sick and tired of your crap.
The current perception is due to the fact that there is a dearth of social housing. I don't for a minute profess to know the solution to that, but surely stoking up racist flames isn't it.
In other news: shame that Mr Weaver can't claim the costs on expenses. I almost feel like starting a whip-round.
And relatedly: don't you feel sorry for the Keens? Nor do I.
I have a business suggestion for AEG Live: for anyone who chooses to keep the ticket instead of getting a refund, why not throw in a free MUG, with one of those tacky mirrory thingies stuck on the side?
Finally, for the "You Don't Say!" series: having a lot of sex increases your chances of getting pregnant. And for when I have a headache, please meet Ms Palm.
Friday, June 26, 2009
NSFW
Well, I can't think of many things this would be safe for. In fact, I'm writing this with blood pouring out of my ears and eyes.
Don't these guys have mothers who beg them not to go out in the world and make arses of themselves? Don't they have girlfriends, or even a few Metal friends, who tell them that you *do not* do that sort of cover wearing a white plastic belt holding up your black jeans, where you've tucked your t-shirt in? With your hand in your pocket? And wearing a cap? Doing your own backing vocals? While strolling along the stage as if in B&Q?
Has it not occurred to them why they were called "headbangers"? I guess the only headbanging this lot has done was just before they agreed to go on stage, it's amazing what a concussion can do to you.
And did nobody tell them that the Bontempi keyboard is ok to play for your grandparents after a Christmas slap-up, when you're, oh, I don't know, 10?
Why did the roadie not unplug, at the very least, the, ahem, singer and, ahem, keyboard player? I mean, the guitarist was no Satriani, but if he and the drummer took a few lessons they might have a chance.
Now, *this* is how you do it. Look at the three cellists and tell me they're not having a collective orgasm!
Or, if you prefer the original thing, check this and drool.
Even a little older and calmer, the boys still rock.
And this is just too good for words!
Errr... I think I have just given away one of my guilty secrets :)))
Don't these guys have mothers who beg them not to go out in the world and make arses of themselves? Don't they have girlfriends, or even a few Metal friends, who tell them that you *do not* do that sort of cover wearing a white plastic belt holding up your black jeans, where you've tucked your t-shirt in? With your hand in your pocket? And wearing a cap? Doing your own backing vocals? While strolling along the stage as if in B&Q?
Has it not occurred to them why they were called "headbangers"? I guess the only headbanging this lot has done was just before they agreed to go on stage, it's amazing what a concussion can do to you.
And did nobody tell them that the Bontempi keyboard is ok to play for your grandparents after a Christmas slap-up, when you're, oh, I don't know, 10?
Why did the roadie not unplug, at the very least, the, ahem, singer and, ahem, keyboard player? I mean, the guitarist was no Satriani, but if he and the drummer took a few lessons they might have a chance.
Now, *this* is how you do it. Look at the three cellists and tell me they're not having a collective orgasm!
Or, if you prefer the original thing, check this and drool.
Even a little older and calmer, the boys still rock.
And this is just too good for words!
Errr... I think I have just given away one of my guilty secrets :)))
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Why geeks are (mostly) men
Hottest Girls.
[...] images of topless, sexy babes and nude models.
Popular, Asian, Blonde, Brunette and Swimsuit.
[...] nipples to be seen.
No, seriously, and who would that appeal to? Hmmmmm... lemme think, I might have to ask the audience here...
Oh, wait. A gangly, spotty, pre-teen boy whose hormones are starting to kick. Well, they do when Miss wears those 4-inch heels.
"Are you over 17?" Like fuc... er.. 'course I am.
And if they can get it from iTunes, they won't even have to explain what that "Big Tits Unlimited" is on mum's credit card.
Even Apple, that bastion of innovation and forward thinking, got caught up in this one. Why can't they grasp the concept that there are women around too, and that the first person to provide decent pornographic material that doesn't revolve around the tits and arses of teen-looking girls will be laughing all the way to the bank?
[...] images of topless, sexy babes and nude models.
Popular, Asian, Blonde, Brunette and Swimsuit.
[...] nipples to be seen.
No, seriously, and who would that appeal to? Hmmmmm... lemme think, I might have to ask the audience here...
Oh, wait. A gangly, spotty, pre-teen boy whose hormones are starting to kick. Well, they do when Miss wears those 4-inch heels.
"Are you over 17?" Like fuc... er.. 'course I am.
And if they can get it from iTunes, they won't even have to explain what that "Big Tits Unlimited" is on mum's credit card.
Even Apple, that bastion of innovation and forward thinking, got caught up in this one. Why can't they grasp the concept that there are women around too, and that the first person to provide decent pornographic material that doesn't revolve around the tits and arses of teen-looking girls will be laughing all the way to the bank?
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
So soothe me!
That's what he did. It only took one phone call to scatter the nightmares away. I just wish there was a bit more time...
Friday, June 19, 2009
Do the right thing
But was it?
And if it was, why does it hurt so much? Why do I feel sick? Why do I feel like I've ripped myself apart? Why do I want to pick up the phone and tap a text? Why do I want to click "send" on that email?
Why could I not see an alternative? Why could I not be stronger? Why am I so needy? Why do I want to sleep myself into oblivion? Why is there just one thought in my mind?
And if it was, why does it hurt so much? Why do I feel sick? Why do I feel like I've ripped myself apart? Why do I want to pick up the phone and tap a text? Why do I want to click "send" on that email?
Why could I not see an alternative? Why could I not be stronger? Why am I so needy? Why do I want to sleep myself into oblivion? Why is there just one thought in my mind?
On the buses
Well, I was on the Tube, to tell the truth... this morning, with 29 (I counted them!) children no older than 8, accompanied by a few adults - teachers and parents, I assume. There were also tourists and some suits, all of whom could have taken civility lessons from the 8-year olds, but that's another story.
What really, really struck me was that while most of the adults were white (except 1 or 2 out of about 6 or 7), all the children bar one were non white. Mostly African or Caribbean, with a couple of Asian-looking ones. Even the one white boy didn't look British or Northern European, but maybe Turkish.
It was really cute, all these little children behaving themselves really well, some of them even scolding one of the others if they felt they were wriggling around too much, or talking too loudly, or encroaching on someone else's space.
And then I thought: in the improbable event that the BNP gets its way, who's going to pay Mr Griffin's pension???
What really, really struck me was that while most of the adults were white (except 1 or 2 out of about 6 or 7), all the children bar one were non white. Mostly African or Caribbean, with a couple of Asian-looking ones. Even the one white boy didn't look British or Northern European, but maybe Turkish.
It was really cute, all these little children behaving themselves really well, some of them even scolding one of the others if they felt they were wriggling around too much, or talking too loudly, or encroaching on someone else's space.
And then I thought: in the improbable event that the BNP gets its way, who's going to pay Mr Griffin's pension???
Thursday, June 18, 2009
I feel cheated! Open letter to Jeremy Corbyn MP
Dear Mr Corbyn
I have been shocked at this scandal about MP expenses. You wouldn't believe the anguish and upset it's caused me. We all know why people get into politics. Serving the people. Giving something back to the community. Making a change. Working for a better future. Standing up for what's right.
Bollox. People get into politics so they can have a cushy job for a few years, then retire on a decent pension plus sky-high consultancy fees and Middle-Eastern peace envoy missions, and that's before the lecturing tours. So it's shocking that it took so long for the British media to get a decent story out of it, but finally the Telegraph cracked it and managed to give us something to moan about (although I have to say that even so, compared to some people this lot are a bunch of amateurs).
You can imagine my glee as I set about picking your claims apart, savouring the anticipation of firing off an email to the BBC, expressing my indignation at your blatant disregard for us righteous tax-payers. But nothing had prepared me for what I found.
£15-£50 phone bills.
Almost £30 at the local Ryman for files, notebooks and printing paper (recycled). And I note that the files and notebooks are blue... obviously ready to jump to the other side at the flick of a pen.
Ink and toner cartridges (refills).
Business cards (two colours... you see, it's the Blues again!).
Hall hires, tea bags and fruit teas, medium and rich roast coffees, semi-skimmed milk, rich teas and fairtrade sugar for constituents coffee mornings.
Rent paid to the Ethical Property Company.
I couldn't bear to pore over the claims you made before 2007, I was just too upset.
How do you expect us to go to work tomorrow, and fit in with our colleagues??? What are we going to talk about? What are we going to say when the boss comes in all wound up at her MP's claim for a 5th home in Paris, complete with frog pond and a full collection of Carla Bruni's lost porn flicks on Blue-ray?
"Oh, don't tell me! *My* MP got the old ladies fairtrade sugar, but then he went and blew 3 quid on Nescafe! How disgusting is that!"
No, seriously, couldn't you at least have hired a bunny to waltz around the room with jammie dodgers-laden trays at one of the meetings?
Very Upset in North Islington
I have been shocked at this scandal about MP expenses. You wouldn't believe the anguish and upset it's caused me. We all know why people get into politics. Serving the people. Giving something back to the community. Making a change. Working for a better future. Standing up for what's right.
Bollox. People get into politics so they can have a cushy job for a few years, then retire on a decent pension plus sky-high consultancy fees and Middle-Eastern peace envoy missions, and that's before the lecturing tours. So it's shocking that it took so long for the British media to get a decent story out of it, but finally the Telegraph cracked it and managed to give us something to moan about (although I have to say that even so, compared to some people this lot are a bunch of amateurs).
You can imagine my glee as I set about picking your claims apart, savouring the anticipation of firing off an email to the BBC, expressing my indignation at your blatant disregard for us righteous tax-payers. But nothing had prepared me for what I found.
£15-£50 phone bills.
Almost £30 at the local Ryman for files, notebooks and printing paper (recycled). And I note that the files and notebooks are blue... obviously ready to jump to the other side at the flick of a pen.
Ink and toner cartridges (refills).
Business cards (two colours... you see, it's the Blues again!).
Hall hires, tea bags and fruit teas, medium and rich roast coffees, semi-skimmed milk, rich teas and fairtrade sugar for constituents coffee mornings.
Rent paid to the Ethical Property Company.
I couldn't bear to pore over the claims you made before 2007, I was just too upset.
How do you expect us to go to work tomorrow, and fit in with our colleagues??? What are we going to talk about? What are we going to say when the boss comes in all wound up at her MP's claim for a 5th home in Paris, complete with frog pond and a full collection of Carla Bruni's lost porn flicks on Blue-ray?
"Oh, don't tell me! *My* MP got the old ladies fairtrade sugar, but then he went and blew 3 quid on Nescafe! How disgusting is that!"
No, seriously, couldn't you at least have hired a bunny to waltz around the room with jammie dodgers-laden trays at one of the meetings?
Very Upset in North Islington
Monday, June 15, 2009
The little red dress
I fail to see how the subject being a Muslim has any relevance when reporting a sex discrimination case.
Is the BBC saying that if the woman hadn't been a Muslim she'd have quietly acquiesced to wearing something that was most definitely humiliating and demeaning to her *only* because she was a woman? Is Auntie saying that the lady in question only kicked up this fuss because she was some Muslim weirdo, while a nice, blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman would have done her "duty" and gone along with the unfair dress code?
Am I missing something, or is the BBC not even subtly doing propaganda for the BNP? Is it trying to make up for that little slip of the tongue by one of its reporters the other day? Or is it just that they don't have a clue?
Either way, isn't it time they got their act together?
Is the BBC saying that if the woman hadn't been a Muslim she'd have quietly acquiesced to wearing something that was most definitely humiliating and demeaning to her *only* because she was a woman? Is Auntie saying that the lady in question only kicked up this fuss because she was some Muslim weirdo, while a nice, blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman would have done her "duty" and gone along with the unfair dress code?
Am I missing something, or is the BBC not even subtly doing propaganda for the BNP? Is it trying to make up for that little slip of the tongue by one of its reporters the other day? Or is it just that they don't have a clue?
Either way, isn't it time they got their act together?
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Three cheers for democracy!
Or is it?
Much as I dislike the BNP, I can't help but cringe at the hypocrisy shown by these demonstrators. I'm sure if you asked any one of them they'd say: "We must stop this fascist, racist scum from holding their gatherings because they will gag everybody else". Or something along those lines. Without even noticing the irony.
However, this lot could be excused their naivety because they seem to be mainly scraggly students, and we all did that sort of thing when we were scraggly students. We were full of good intentions, we wanted world peace and a spliff, but we didn't really know what we were talking about.
What I don't get is (what I assume is) a BBC commentator saying: "[...] wherever he [Nick Griffin] travels... a lot of thick-set men I think it's fair to say... security is the word but I think they are pretty thick set, I can tell you [...]" (minute 01.07-01.17 in the clip). Now, I may be wrong but I always thought that the BBC was funded by daylight robbery, also known as the licence fee, paid by everybody who uses a TV set to receive programmes, regardless of their political affiliation. In other words, they are supposed to be impartial and unbiased. I assume that, the BNP being so strong on law and order, those 900,000 people who voted them also pay the TV licence. Wouldn't they now have a good case to ask for a refund? I mean, not that it'd be the only one, but I'll gloss over that.
Anyway, just in case you were thinking the BNP is a good idea, check them out here. In a very, very superficial way, their policies could even sound appealing (if you ignore all that crap about white, white, white). What a shame they don't tell you how they'd go about implementing them. Could it be even they realise they're full of shit?
Much as I dislike the BNP, I can't help but cringe at the hypocrisy shown by these demonstrators. I'm sure if you asked any one of them they'd say: "We must stop this fascist, racist scum from holding their gatherings because they will gag everybody else". Or something along those lines. Without even noticing the irony.
However, this lot could be excused their naivety because they seem to be mainly scraggly students, and we all did that sort of thing when we were scraggly students. We were full of good intentions, we wanted world peace and a spliff, but we didn't really know what we were talking about.
What I don't get is (what I assume is) a BBC commentator saying: "[...] wherever he [Nick Griffin] travels... a lot of thick-set men I think it's fair to say... security is the word but I think they are pretty thick set, I can tell you [...]" (minute 01.07-01.17 in the clip). Now, I may be wrong but I always thought that the BBC was funded by daylight robbery, also known as the licence fee, paid by everybody who uses a TV set to receive programmes, regardless of their political affiliation. In other words, they are supposed to be impartial and unbiased. I assume that, the BNP being so strong on law and order, those 900,000 people who voted them also pay the TV licence. Wouldn't they now have a good case to ask for a refund? I mean, not that it'd be the only one, but I'll gloss over that.
Anyway, just in case you were thinking the BNP is a good idea, check them out here. In a very, very superficial way, their policies could even sound appealing (if you ignore all that crap about white, white, white). What a shame they don't tell you how they'd go about implementing them. Could it be even they realise they're full of shit?
Monday, June 08, 2009
Equal ops
It's not just the British politicians that suck.
“What if, instead of a photographer, there had been a terrorist armed with telescopic sights?,” asked Fabrizio Cicchitto, the head of the PdL faction in the Lower House.
Mr Cicchitto, we can only live in hope.
“What if, instead of a photographer, there had been a terrorist armed with telescopic sights?,” asked Fabrizio Cicchitto, the head of the PdL faction in the Lower House.
Mr Cicchitto, we can only live in hope.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
They really can't help...
But keep shooting themeselves in the foot.
Gordon Brown pledges to stick with people in their time of need. Well, it's a good sentiment, and kudos to him for being the only one in his party to feel it.
Lord Falconer reckons that while Brown stays, the Labour party won't unite. Come again? What Labour party?
Peter Hain thinks the European elections results will be terrible, and Nick Raynsford that the next general elections will be disastrous. Smartie points to both of them for seeing the obvious. Although it could be argued that what they are referring to wouldn't be that bad for the country, and as for the late Labour party, you can't kill a corpse, so no harm done there either.
Alan Johnson doesn't "agree that regicide gives you a unified party". I think the poor dear has been a bit confused by Gordon's attempts to be the Queen's knight in shining armour re: the D-Day fuck up.
But does anyone else notice how everybody, except the boss himself, is worrying about the party rather than the country? Could it just be that it's not Gordon Brown that should walk the plank, but the whole ship that should be left to sink while he continues to lead the country with some other party?
Now, that would be interesting!
Gordon Brown pledges to stick with people in their time of need. Well, it's a good sentiment, and kudos to him for being the only one in his party to feel it.
Lord Falconer reckons that while Brown stays, the Labour party won't unite. Come again? What Labour party?
Peter Hain thinks the European elections results will be terrible, and Nick Raynsford that the next general elections will be disastrous. Smartie points to both of them for seeing the obvious. Although it could be argued that what they are referring to wouldn't be that bad for the country, and as for the late Labour party, you can't kill a corpse, so no harm done there either.
Alan Johnson doesn't "agree that regicide gives you a unified party". I think the poor dear has been a bit confused by Gordon's attempts to be the Queen's knight in shining armour re: the D-Day fuck up.
But does anyone else notice how everybody, except the boss himself, is worrying about the party rather than the country? Could it just be that it's not Gordon Brown that should walk the plank, but the whole ship that should be left to sink while he continues to lead the country with some other party?
Now, that would be interesting!
I needed some cheering up...
So thank you to a lot of the people who posted their comments here.
It seems some USAmericans are throwing a strop at having been robbed of their beloved Dubya and his mates. It pisses them off so much that they have to go and flood a British newspaper column with their hilarious whining.
I mean, woe betide President Obama for snubbing Sarko', leader of their great allies... never mind that not so long ago something was renamed "freedom fries". Never mind, even, that the little man himself and his snotty wife had been bad-mouthing the Obamas behind their backs.
And bob forbid trying to start a dialogue with those filthy, dirty, uncouth, rag-headed, Middle-Eastern terrorists. Much better to nuke them, I say!
And what to say about his inability to hold a speech without a Teleprompter? Such an ignominy - not like not even being able to read off the bloody thing!!!
Then there's a few who claim that Obama and his socialist agenda are silencing all dissidents, therefore said dissidents have to go and vent elsewhere. I could actually believe that, mainly basing my opinion on NuLab and *their* socialist agenda and attempts at muting all opposition, wherever it comes from. However, I also seem to remember people being cherry-picked for Dubya's public appearances, so as not to have some unexpected criticism broadcast by accident on Fox News. Stones and glasshouses, eh!
I won't even comment on those posters who say Obama is destroying healthcare and education, 'cos that's beyond a joke.
Anyway, least this sounds like an Obama eulogy, the guy is somewhat chillingly starting to remind me of one Mr Bliar (edookashun, edookashun, edookashun!) - the People's President and all that. Well, at least he had the decency of making his mind known about Sarko' overlooking the Queen for the D-Day celebrations with facts (I wouldn't be surprised if the missed dinner had something to do with it) rather than the rather pitiful bleating we had from some Scottish quarters about ensuring the Royal Family would get an invitation.
This is the guy who couldn't keep his own Cabinet together with a whole factory of Superglue, and he thinks he has the clout to tell the French gnome what to do? Hello Gordon, the coffee is ready!
It seems some USAmericans are throwing a strop at having been robbed of their beloved Dubya and his mates. It pisses them off so much that they have to go and flood a British newspaper column with their hilarious whining.
I mean, woe betide President Obama for snubbing Sarko', leader of their great allies... never mind that not so long ago something was renamed "freedom fries". Never mind, even, that the little man himself and his snotty wife had been bad-mouthing the Obamas behind their backs.
And bob forbid trying to start a dialogue with those filthy, dirty, uncouth, rag-headed, Middle-Eastern terrorists. Much better to nuke them, I say!
And what to say about his inability to hold a speech without a Teleprompter? Such an ignominy - not like not even being able to read off the bloody thing!!!
Then there's a few who claim that Obama and his socialist agenda are silencing all dissidents, therefore said dissidents have to go and vent elsewhere. I could actually believe that, mainly basing my opinion on NuLab and *their* socialist agenda and attempts at muting all opposition, wherever it comes from. However, I also seem to remember people being cherry-picked for Dubya's public appearances, so as not to have some unexpected criticism broadcast by accident on Fox News. Stones and glasshouses, eh!
I won't even comment on those posters who say Obama is destroying healthcare and education, 'cos that's beyond a joke.
Anyway, least this sounds like an Obama eulogy, the guy is somewhat chillingly starting to remind me of one Mr Bliar (edookashun, edookashun, edookashun!) - the People's President and all that. Well, at least he had the decency of making his mind known about Sarko' overlooking the Queen for the D-Day celebrations with facts (I wouldn't be surprised if the missed dinner had something to do with it) rather than the rather pitiful bleating we had from some Scottish quarters about ensuring the Royal Family would get an invitation.
This is the guy who couldn't keep his own Cabinet together with a whole factory of Superglue, and he thinks he has the clout to tell the French gnome what to do? Hello Gordon, the coffee is ready!
Friday, May 29, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Do you remember...
Wednesday saw my friend and I strolling around Highghate, Hampstead and St John's Wood... and all you get is this lousy photograph ;)
Only joking. There's this gorgeous tree too, wonderful colour :)))
Only joking. There's this gorgeous tree too, wonderful colour :)))
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Tamil Tigers, Polish wildlife and London Geese
Went for a day out in Central London on Monday.
Got off the bus at Leicester Square because the traffic just wasn't moving. Found out why once we arrived at Westminster and saw a sit-in by Sri Lankan folks trying to draw attention to their plight. Admittedly, I know next to nothing about Sri Lanka, why they're slaughtering each other and all that, but I have a weird attraction to demonstrations, as the last time I joined any I was at school and would bunk off to go marching in the streets behind some banner or other. At the time any excuse was good to bunk off school, but demonstrations were particularly good fun as you'd always end up meeting new people and hearing various shite from different parties.
So I could have quite happily hung around Parliament Square for a while but, alas, my friend wanted to move on. We crossed the bridge and stopped at the Eye so she could have a ride while I waited on the ground and did a spot of people watching.
After a lovely lunch in Gabriel's Wharf, we walked across a photographic exhibition of Polish wildlife - stunning pictures, although I'm not quite sure I see the link between wolves, blue turtles and the Thames (I could understand the insects though, as they were feasting on me!).
We then met two friendly birds down by the river. Their friendliness soon turned to complete disinterest when they realised we weren't food-bearers :)
Got to say, I don't like people and crowds. I was only too happy when I walked past my favourite tree, which meant I was back home!
Got off the bus at Leicester Square because the traffic just wasn't moving. Found out why once we arrived at Westminster and saw a sit-in by Sri Lankan folks trying to draw attention to their plight. Admittedly, I know next to nothing about Sri Lanka, why they're slaughtering each other and all that, but I have a weird attraction to demonstrations, as the last time I joined any I was at school and would bunk off to go marching in the streets behind some banner or other. At the time any excuse was good to bunk off school, but demonstrations were particularly good fun as you'd always end up meeting new people and hearing various shite from different parties.
So I could have quite happily hung around Parliament Square for a while but, alas, my friend wanted to move on. We crossed the bridge and stopped at the Eye so she could have a ride while I waited on the ground and did a spot of people watching.
After a lovely lunch in Gabriel's Wharf, we walked across a photographic exhibition of Polish wildlife - stunning pictures, although I'm not quite sure I see the link between wolves, blue turtles and the Thames (I could understand the insects though, as they were feasting on me!).
We then met two friendly birds down by the river. Their friendliness soon turned to complete disinterest when they realised we weren't food-bearers :)
Got to say, I don't like people and crowds. I was only too happy when I walked past my favourite tree, which meant I was back home!
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