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Football: I am converted to the cult of Football, I love it and I can see why everyone else does too. It all started when my new friend and soon-to-be flatmate Ian got me ticket to see Fulham play Wigan. Fulham are going to be our new local club when we move into the new flat, but Ian's been a fan since way before that. It was a Wednesday night game, the night after it freakishly snowed, so it was retardedly cold. We met at The Golden Lion (local supporters pub) for a quick beer before the game. You can't drink in the stands, so I was stunned to discover that it was a much more sober affair than going to games in New Zealand - they are actually all singing because they love the game, the team, and because it's loads of fun (and it warms you up!). I picked up some of the chants (many of which are unprintable and involve Chelsea, who weren't even playing that night but copped a lot of abuse anyway) and loved the way that one or two people would start singing and soon the whole stand would get involved. It was a good game too, I had a much better idea of what goes on having seen it live, and now I'm getting into the televised games too. I was really stoked to get a chance to go to a match as that was high on my list of 'when-in-England' must-dos. I'd love to go again.
Museums: The awesome V&A art museum / gallery had the 'Cold War Modern' exhibition which was a fascinating (and huge) collection of Cold War art, architecture, fashion and media. It was engrossing and I had a great time wandering through the kitschy stuff (back when plastic was new, etc). I had a hard time finding the exhibition though because the museum is HUGE, labryinthine, and full of incredible stuff from every corner of the globe. I'll definitely have to go back.
I also went to the Imperial War Museum with Macca and Millar. It was good, but not all I expected - very focussed on the two World Wars, and with two whole floors of super-depressing Holocaust, Children at War and Crimes Against Humanity stuff that we didn't feel checking out. I got my fill of tanks, rockets, and cannons but didn't come out of it feeling as though I'd really learned a lot of new stuff. I was expecting a museum of war, but there were no suits of armor, crazy Turkish swords, and not a single trebuchet. Not bad though for free though.
Westminster Abbey: Went there by accident today. I'd gone to Westminster to have a look along the river, but after a bit of wandering around the streets I found myself in the Abbey. It was half closed but still really cool. I decided I am not big on the Houses of Parliament, the style of the building really doesn't do a lot for me - all the little minarets and striations. I would like to go inside and check it out though, one day.
Biking: I am still biking to work. I have been rained on a few times, had a couple of flat tires, and a couple of freezing mornings but I love it. I am also getting quite fit, which is nice. My workies still don't think I'll keep it up but I see no reason not to - I don't care about getting wet and I'm never cold by the time I get home. I don't think I'd be handling the commute very well if I wasn't cycling - I've found a reasonably pleasant route now but it's expensive (~£7 day) and I just don't like being cooped up on the tube when it's packed with people. It's OK once or twice a week though.
Flat: I'm still in Willesen Green, but only for two more weeks. I'm hugely looking forward to the move, despite the atmosphere being much less icy than it was a few weeks ago - Steph and Lauren are talking to me again, which is nice. I'm mostly looking forward to the proximity to work, it should give me an extra hour of free time every day. I'll be able to start cooking again, entertaining perhaps, and just generally enjoying having 2 flatmates rather than 6-10. The possibility of having the house to myself on occasion is quite exciting!
Life in general: Is pretty good, though the days are getting short I've still a wealth of things to do and see and it's not yet bothering me that the sun is becoming pale and wan (though Anna reminded my today that it's autumn here, and not winter). I haven't been to Europe yet but I'm not fussed, I'm sure the time will come! I am still tossing up a trip to Iceland (as the posters point out, the exchange rate is very favourable right now) but I'm worried the airline might collapse or something so I think I'll sit tight on my money.
Fursty ferret: Is the beer I am drinking. There's a strong connection between animals and alcohol over here - I'm not sure why - and I could easily go to The Speckled Hen for a pint of The Badger Beer Company's (yummy) Eager Owl Ale! It's quite funny.
I'm not sure I had much else to write, apart from the bit about Screaming Skull. Where do I start and how will I stop myself before I get too cruel? If you've seen The Green Wing, she's like the HR woman in that - I think her name is Joanna. Really stampy and huffy, with tight tight clothing and a boomy voice, and a enough barely-represssed emotional baggage it's almost suffocating when she walks into the room. She's like Joanna-Green-Wing but also really manic too, really highly strung and angry. She fizzes and splutters and shakes when she talks (loudly and at a million miles). Everything is a drama. I find myself constantly telling her to calm down, and that everything's going to be fine. Anyway, she's mad at Max over some mis-communication about the meeting rooms yesterday. A chair was in the wrong place I think. Maxeen being Maxeen told her in no uncertain terms where to stick her chair, and now they are both hissing at me about the other when they get the chance.
Still frequenting Bada Bing - had a splendid breakfast there this morning. The whole greasey shebang for £3. Mmmmm.
Next outings on the agenda: nothing this month, because I just paid for my trip to Edinburgh at New Years, and I'm still getting used to being paid monthly. Might have been a little over-excited in my spending last week. I am however looking forward to the work Christmas party - 1920s themed! I even love the word 'Flapper'. Have a Flapper haircut at the moment too. Flapper Flapper Flapper.
Hometime!
Things make so much more sense here when it comes to seasonal celebrations. Haloween and pumpkins, because it's autumn. Fireworks in the earlydark, because it's winter.
Anyhoo, off to Clapham Common tonight, with the Porv's, for the fireworks. Hopefully. I'm really tired and I feel I might flake out as soon as I reach home, because I was up until about 2, watching the election.
Other things happening...um...Max has had an argument with a woman that I call The Screaming Skull, here at St John.
I don't know where I left things. Something about moving house and starting a job I think. Well, the new house is great, so far, and the people at Smiths never called me back. But the new house is good. Let's focus on that. The owners of the house are good company and the place feels like a home. I like paying rent to people I know, and only having to deal with two other people's living habits. The floors are clean and wooden and the bathroom's fresh and lino-ed. Most delighfully, there are squirells in the garden.
Porv works in 'Management', and she's just finished her Masters in that particular branch of study. I've no idea what is involved, but she used to manage things pretty well at St John and everyone really liked her here. She interviewed for a job investigating fraud today. I'm sure there'll be heaps of work for her down the line as the UK falls further into the recession abyss. Nathan, her fiancee, is a hedge-fund manager. I like to imagine he goes off to work to shape topiary all day. So does he, at the moment.
My room is small, but cosy. I have a wardrobe and a few pictures on the walls (there is a strong Dalek/sci-fi theme to the place, thanks to Nathan, which is fun), and a tellie and a bookshelf. My deep windowsill stops the cold from being right next to my head, and I can put all my trinkets on it, so that when I wake up and pull the curtains, they all get swiped across the room. Perfec.
Haloween had potential, but was ultimately a bit of a disater with Nic and I turning up to a very quiet do on a very hire-me-for-your-awful-work-do themed boat, which wasn't on water...all a bit confusing really. There wasn't a toilet aboard, so we all had to traipse through to a nearby bar in order to use their facilities. Not much fun getting called a 'hot mummy' by increasingly drunk vagrants every time I needed to pee. Just missed the last Tube and ended up nearly being really ripped off on a cab fare from West Hampstead to Willesden. Afte the driver said it would cost £20, Nicola politely told him she wished him to crash, and stormed off down the road.
I have to go home now and eat curry, but I'll definitely write more tomorrow. Definitely.
I called Smiths to get some idea of what is going on with my perhaps job there, and they said that there are a number of other applicants they are yet to see, who are trialling this week. I'm not going to hold my breath anymore and will try and find something else while I waiti for them to maybe call.
Flip Grater is playing a set tonight at the Big Chill House, and I wish I was going, instead of moving. I hope I get there on Thursday and we can have a proper catch-up. She mentioned getting a recipe for her next book out of me, and I'd gladly offer up the obvious entrant of Anna and Craig's Bean Salad, but I think the original inspiration for that came from Flip herslf, so I guess that's out. Maybe pumpkin salad. Yes.
It's funny sitting here at work with everything I have propped up against the wall in my backpack. Workies have been giggling all day and saying things like 'it must be so liberating', and 'I have a drawer bigger that that bag, just for my socks'. Har har.
Craig and I went out to Old Rope again last night and saw Raybon Kan, quite by accident, admittedly. It was nice, though I'm so tired at the moment we left two-thrids of the way through the evening, and I nearly fell asleep on the journey home.
Maybe I'll go to Marks and Sparks and get a Victoria sponge.
So much has happened this week. I've found a flat, Craig's found a flat, I think I have an evening job, Nicola's joined Weight Watchers...
I'll try and start at the beginning. On Tuesday I went around to my friend Purvee's place in Clapham and we ate curry and watched TV, and she offered me a lovely wee room in her apartment, for a price I can actually afford. She must have heard through various St John ties that I was looking...that, or she heard my wails of flat-finding frustration from across London. I'll be living with Purvee (Porv) and her fiancee Nathan - not a billion others and their hangers-on for once! The room in lovely, it even has a wardrobe, a big comfy bed and curtains (Willy G was dodgy on all these counts). We had a key-handing-over ceremony at a bar called The Fence on Friday night. I hope to move in over the course of the week.
Craig's place I will let him describe here soon (perhaps when he gets in...I think he's passed out at Millers) - from the discussions I've had with him it sound delicious. His PENTHOUSE floor is called the Buckingham Suite, or something. Oh to be a computer programmer and not a...what the hell am I, anyway? This is something I've been thinking about a lot lately. Not to the extent where I'm about to take off to a far flung part of India and 'find myself', but I have been thinking about further study, I need to be more clever if I'm going to survive in London. Just need some kind of direction. Sigh.
On Monday (realise I'm going backwards now, but hang on) I had a wander around Farringdon (near where I work) and Took my CV into a restaurant called Smiths of Smithfield. They were all a bit rude and disorganised but after I found someone useful, they told me they'd call me in the morning, which they did, and we arranged an interview for Wednesday night. Really weird meeting where I was given a menu, a uniform and told that I was starting the next night. So I turned up on Thursday and worked a 6 hour shift, and it all went really well. I wish I didn't enjoy waitressing, but I do. It was great to talk food and wine all night with strangers, and be on my feet for once (I swear I'm going to get DVT sitting at that reception desk). At the end of the night, the manager asked me to leave all of my uniform at the restaurant, and said that someone would call me in the morning. Turns out that the Thursday shift was a trial, and that there are a number of others going for the job (soooo competitive over here!). No one called on Friday though, and I'm wondering if they ever will.
And finally, the wonderful, beautiful Nicola has joined Weight Watchers. I came home last night to cook Craig a curry (master had requested something spicy for his evening meal), to find Nic on her bed (apparently having needed to pee for more than an hour, couldn't be bothered getting up though), reading through all of her new course material for her new diet. She's so funny. Was really excited about the cookbook with all these salads in it and the fact that she gets to eat dessert if she likes. She explained the program that she's on to me and it sounds quite decent. I'm still firmly in the 'eat sensibly when you're hungry' camp though, and we'll just have to see who wins on the fitting-into-our-clothes-from-home battle in a couple of months time. It's fair to say the Heathrow Injection has affected us all.
Today I'm off to sort out the rest of my Haloween costume. I can't remember if I've noted my most recent idea in the blog, but the plan now is to go as a zombie. I found a box of bandages under my desk at work and my boss said they'd expired (?!), and I could use them for my outfit. So all I need now is some thermals and some fake blood.
The clocks went back last night, so it's 8.20am. Just looked out the window and it is persisting down (remember Toni Marsh saying that? Does she still say it? What an idiot.). I need to wash my hair but I don't know if I can be bothered if the weather is just going to persist all over my do, though.
I have a new evening job and a new flat. More soon. I have to go to the new job now!
I missed yoga yesterday because I forgot my clothes (not entirely, of course) and didn't fancy stretching in just my winter tights and bra - never a good look, ever.
Update: Since I started writing this about an hour ago (I've been working!), the Creative Services Department have bought an entire Victoria Sponge cake for me, in celebration of my 'permness'. Yep. A whole cake. Thankfully Maxeen has volunteered to eat the whole thing, so I might yet get away with a good healthy day.
Off to Cambridge for another cleansing jaunt, on Sunday. Tomorrow there will be the now much anticipated Saturday trip to Suds, some grocery shopping and a movie.
Inspired by a sublime late night eastern European feast last night, I am going to attempt to make Borsche tonight for whoever will eat it.
Good thing is that Nicola and Craig are in on the flat deal now, so it's good to be looking at potentially setting up our own place. Nic and I keep having kitchen fit-out fantasies - 'imagine having a frying pan! Oh, and wine glasses!' - but I guess we have to find a place to put these things in first. There have been a number of likely options, but they keep getting snapped up really quickly, before we have even called the agents.
Yesterday I had a reply through from a 'homeowner' called 'Timothy'. After giving me his entire life history (which included the suspicion-raising morsel that he and his 'lovely wife' had recently relocated on a 'missionary crusade' to West Africa), he told me to send something in the realm of £1000 to him, and then he would send me the paperwork and a key. Like fork I'm going to go down that stinking-of-fraud route.
On the night-work front, I'm looking at waitressing again, but I can't even get up the nerve to approach places in my work area. I have printed off my updated CV and a couple of references, but I'm not feeling all that confident about anything anymore and I can't imagine walking into a bar and being all full of energy and spark, and landing a job right off the bat, not now. I've been applying for things online too and hearing nothing back (again), so that's not helping.
Abby took me to French and Saunders last night and the theatre was stunning. The performances weren't though, but then again, I never really thought that FnS were a riot anyway. I was just happy to get out and see what London is all about - when you have money. The West End goes mad every night of the week and there are hundreds of dolled-up people in the streets talking scores and stage presence. It's been so long since I was at a theatre that I got all excited when the lights went down, it reminded me of going to musicals when I was little (younger).
I'm off to the BBC studios now to be in an audience for a stand up comic. Our most recent evening at Old Rope was a complete fizzer, so this will almost certainly be a better offering.
Still can't do The Times crossword. Will stick to The Guardian one for now.
Whiskey drinking coming along nicely.
I have just made fish pie, and completely fumigated the flat with the pong of smoked mackerel. Not the best grounds for calling a flat meeting to discuss the rather enormous issue of the three random Australians who have been living here for the past month. They're attached to Kane's girlfriend's sister, and they've been in our toilets, living room, fridge and shower for weeks now, and we didn't even know they were arriving until they had.
Craig had an impromptu go at one of them for apparently knicking my watch last week ('I just found it in my bag'), and asked them all to leave asap. We've been given the silent treatment ever since, and I'm at breaking point now. Who just moves three of their mates into a flat without telling anyone?
Nicola and I have been looking at flats tonight, and we've also booked our New Years jaunt to Edinburgh, so that has been fun. It's so good to have her back. She's stayed at my side all night, including while I was peeling spuds and being ignored by the other girls in the kitchen, making sure that I had at least one person to talk to while I made dinner. We're off to a Haloween party at the end of the month with one of her workmates, and I'm going as a crocodile (a most deliberate departure fro the stock standard dirty-nurse or school-girl options that I can't stomach).
I have stopped eating bread and made sure I get a dose of protein in the morning and at lunch and I feel a million times better for it. Yoga is getting really good and I am sleeping more soundly now.
I think the plan of attack flat-wise will be a mid-week bake of some apple and blackcurrant pies and a nice sit-down, hopefully followed by a reasonable chat and some kind of resolution to the overstayer madness. Probably won't happen, but we'll see.
Yoga has started up again at work and we had a great stretch today, and then a big relax at the end, and I nearly fell asleep.
I haven't been sleeping very well at night (but marvelously during the day, which is pretty anti-social), partly because my body has turned against me and every minor thing that I've ever had has come back to bite in various areas. Nothing to worry about really, just annoying and a bit stressful at 2 in the morning.
More soon, Max needs me for something...
Anna: Apparently I'm not convincing y'all out there that I'm having a whale of a time in London, despite my efforts to keep this blog upbeat.
Truth is, I'm not having a very good time. I'm trying really hard to get a solid footing for myself here, but I've never found it so difficult to just get by. I've never felt like I might not get a job - even waitressing is a career choice here, and you need some kind of culinary qualification to do it. I've never not been able to afford decent food, or to move house, or to get to work.
I'm half way through the process of getting an appointment to see the doctor, so far it's looking to take 3 weeks before I get to the waiting room.
My social options extend to workmates at the pub, or dossers in the kitchen, or Craig's mates at the park. I'm not really that close to any of them. The friends I did have here have moved home, or moved on, and I miss my family.
I feel less like someone who's 'seeing the world' than I did when I was working at home. I can't imagine ever having enough money to visit the rest of England, let alone Europe. We just cancelled a trip to Cornwall, because I can't afford to go.
Moving house is set to cost me £1000 - a sum I'll struggle to produce in a month, even two. I can't find any flats in the area I'm looking (and, no, it's not flash). All I've got to move anyway is my backpack, full of ratty clothes that have been ruined by the washing machine that was, and little else.
I hate to whinge here, but sometimes it's hard to keep on keeping on, when it seems that you're treading water, trying not to go under. I know I have the marvelous Craig, and I have a job, and I do technically have enough to eat and that if I was in serious trouble, that a tidal wave of help would arrive on my doorstep in moments. When it's not quite 'panic stations', it's still hard though, and right now I don't want to go home to the horrible flat, with the random lodgers, and no milk in the fridge, having been rained on and Tube-molested. Perhaps the thing that annoys me the most is that I don't have any other option.
Is this what 'finding yourself' is? Overrated.
I'm 24 now. I'm also a contracted receptionist. Hermph.
Despite my underachieveing, we all had a reasonable weekend, including a visit to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, which seems to be one of the oldest pubs in London - it was rebuilt in 1669. Unfortunately there wasn't any cheese on the rather average menu, but there was plenty of cheap beer, so I had to drag Craig out before we missed the last Tube.
Off to Camden (again) on Saturday, I don't think I'll head back that way for a while. Too many people, unhealthy food options and unnecessary trinkets on offer. Spent some time with Abby, but we were both a bit down in the dumps about Ang suddenly leaving London without the usual fanfare - she's found a new bunch of friends here who surpass us on the exciting and cool front, I think. To be honest though, I'm quite happy to be missing out on the bad house music and semi-naking cavorting in mud at festivals thing though. If anyone knows anyone else who just wants to watch movies and cook and ride their bike to the park, can you put them in touch? Will consider pensioners.
On Saturday night, Craig's friends Hannah and Rachael arranged for a large part of a neat pub called The Champion (sounds awful, but it's not, think Wunderbar, with less Russians) to be reserved for a giant NZers-in-London catch up. I'm growing a touch tired of this theme, but it's not like I have any other large groups of people with similar interests to default to. It was a good night in the end, and I felt better about the work thing after talking to a couple of girls who are in similar meltdowns over moving to London and finding themselves at the Front Desk.
In order to fend off the effects of the Heathrow Injection, I have opted to drink straight whiskey at all social occasions. The HI refers to the 5 kilos or so that girls seems to gain after they arrive in London. By not drinking beer, or juice, or fizz when I'm out, I hope to stave off the weight (never mind the waffle and the burrito I had while wandering Camden). It also means I spend less and remain entirely sober because I've yet to learn to appreciate whiskey, and I usually manage about half a shot over the course of an evening.
It also mans I'm never hungover, so earlyish on Sunday I donned my leggings and jandals (in true kiwi style/lack of style) and braved the heavy rain to try and find some work clothes. I was threatened with a uniform at my SJA interview, so now I have to prove that I can dress appropriately, so as to avoid the awful spearmint-lilac-beige ensemble that Max would no doubt love to see me in. I went to Primark (bad idea, generally) and found a couple of things, but nothing worth fighting through the hoards for. Because it is impossible to try anything on, you have to imagine that everything fits you, and because it's so cheap, it's worth buying and then trying, and then burning, when it makes you look like an elephant (which my purchases did). I met with Craig to go to a much better part of the city and we wandered through the markets around Liverpool St, where Craig trumped me and found a magnificent woolly jumper that looks like some Starsky and Hutch-loving relative knitted him into it. I got a bit carried away in a vintage shoe shop and I'm now more than set for winter with a pair of leather riding boots, which are at least better than jandals (though the jandals did see me bond with a small child, as we jumped in puddles at the bus stop).
We are both looking for new flats and it looks like Craig has found one. I'm a bit nervous now, but it will all be for the best, I hope.
Things I am happy about:
It's 4.45pm
It's not raining
I have been offered the receptionist job
I am planning pumpkin salad for dinner
I have a wide selection of winter jackets
I have new underwear
and chocolate
Things I am ho-hum about:
Flatting in London
Joining a gym
Getting a new phone, computer, bike
Birthday plans
Being a receptionist
I'm very seriously thinking about going to Scotland for Christmas, maybe for a week. Have yet to speak to any relatives apart from Christine (who is staying in London I think).
I think Marks and Sparks milk tastes better than other milk. Is it branding or chemicals, or both? I wonder...
I'm looking forward to poached eggs on toast for tea.
I have been riding to work most days, and it's a great ride - I start with a few small hills on my way to Willesden Junction, and then there's a long downhill through Wormwood Scrubs Park to Shay Boo (Shepherd's Bush). After that it's a slower wending through back-streets to get to Hammersmith Bridge, which brings me onto a long curve alongside the Thames and finally, to work. It's about 12km each way and at ~45 minutes it's almost twice as fast as catching public transport, and a hell of a lot more fun (though I do miss being able to read most of the paper in the mornings). When it's sunny it's a beautiful ride.
I have lights, and today I'm going to buy a bright yellow jacket. I'm not sure if it'll get dodgier when it's dark but so far I havn't felt in any danger from the traffic - half the time I'm going faster than the cars anyway, and most people are considerate and stay out of the cycle lanes (when there are cycle lanes). Londoners have assured me that London has the worst drivers in the world but I've concluded that people invariably think this about the city they live in, as I don't think they're any worse than Christchurch.
We'll have to see if the novelty wears off come winter time (everyone at works thinks so) but currently I really think I'd rather be out cycling in the cold than squashed up at the top of a foggy smelly bus crawling through traffic, and then freezing on the platforms waiting for trains. Even if I start off cold when I'm cycling I'm guaranteed to be warm by the time I get to work. But we'll see.
Anyway. Saturday saw another Suds date with the increasingly impressive Nicola, and again we indulged in a good hour of industrious inactivity, watching our whites get whiter and our colours get brighter. After that, I went to get supplies from the supermarket, to fuel my most recent breakfast obsession, boiled-eggs-and-soldiers.
Following food, Nicola and I went to Camden to find her some clothes for Italy (where I am told it is still warm), and then I jumped across town to meet Hannah and Rachael while they looked at tops and shoes and birthday presents for people.
When I got home, the Park Mansions Australian boys were charging around wearing bras on their heads and making animal noises. Fairly standard. Apparently they'd been drinking since 4am that morning and watching the Aussie Rules. I went to make dinner in the kitchen, and by the time I was done, there were two Australians passed out in the living room, snoring loudly, and one missing Englishman (presumed bed). Their fish and chips went cold on the table as their snoring became more violent. I went to bed and felt old.
Craig took me to Richmond on Sunday, where we rented a boat and paddled up and down the Thames in the sun. Craig is a really good oarsman, and managed to get a far distance up the river, with me offering my always helpful and encouraging support from the little couch bit at the other end of the boat (cider in hand). A particular highlight of the trip was discovering some semi-scary-looking river gypsy pirates, who seemed to be fairly well established on their patch of water. Their one black boat was covered in various reeds and herbs and at one end was a smoking wood-fire, it was like something out of a cartoon. Quite the juxtaposition against the wealthy lawns of the estates on the opposite side of the river.
Afterward, we walked along the towpath to a Belgian beer bar and whiled the remainder of the afternoon away, eating cheese and pickles and sausages, and of course, rehydrating with a stein. It was a very very lovely afternoon.
Then, I had to take off to Ang's farewell drinks, which i nearly forgot about, and frankly, wish I had. When I got there, the girls recounted (just, over the bad bad House) their previous evening, which was a night out in Brighton (something I've been wanting to do for a while), that I never even knew was happening. Odd. I struggled to hide my grump as one of the group 'borrowed' a precious ten pounds from my wallet because she'd forgotten to bring hers (hmmm), while she went on about how amazing the weekend away had been. As I was leaving, someone said, 'I'll see you at the dinner tomorrow then'. I never knew about dinner either. Guess that's where they are now.
During my lunchtime stroll today, I was followed by a drunk all the way around the block. It was really unplesant, but thankfully there were heaps of people around, so I didn't feel unsafe, just a bit...followed. I'm not really the kind of person who is prepared to spend my energy trying to get to the bottom of why some drunk is indeed wasted and homeless and following me, but I seem to work with an awful lot of people who think that this is an appropriate course of action when someone is slobbering on your coat and fumbling with their Woodstock. Maybe it's because I work for a charity or something, but when I got back from lunch and relayed my lunch-stalk, most people wanted to know why I didn't even know the guy's name. What? I owe this unfortunate a conversation, and advice, because he's following my blurry outline along the road? I don't think he could have told me his name. He probably couldn't have told me what city we were in. Unless it was for another drink I spose...am I being heartless here?
Anyway, after a perturbed early afternoon, shackled to my ergo-chair, I was relieved to go and visit Ayse to download some of my 'God I find London to be a city of such contradictions' feelings, but arrived only to be informed by one of her collegues that she was out of action today, (slow down your reading here, it's a shocker) on an internal 'Personal and Professional Effectivness Course'. At this point my faith in the human race completely crumbled, and I'm writing this from a bunker in Lapland. Where there are no people to make me feel weird. Only fish. Sweeeet fish.
I've solved the wonder of what Max does when confronted with real work involving things like bins and lifting and cleaning - she refers such things to Richard (Facilities Manager). I must admit I'm a bit bemused by what her role involves now, but I really should calm down about what other people are up to an focus on my own exciting duties such as logging courier parcels and forwarding faxes. Goodness my administrating muscles are being flexed in this role.
I do however look forward to an interview on Tuesday, with Richard and Max. I can't imagine what they will ask me - they know nearly everything there is to know already. It's all a bit of a waste of time, but I spose you have to do the fair thing and have all the candidates run the same gauntlet. I think I'll go the whole hog and bake them a cake or something.
We went back to Old Rope for some comedy last night. Chester, Paul and their collection of German 'pets' were also in attendance and we all sat up the front and caught the imagination of most of the comedians' acts at one point of another. Fun though. And cheap! £5 really is a good price for three hours of entertainment.
Ang is going back to NZ this weekend, and she's having a do on Sunday night - 'I know you've all got work in the morning, but I don't care!' - charming. Almost all of my current London-based friends from home are heading back there for this Christmas. Not really sure what I'll be doing, come to think of it. It's hard to imagine what it's going to be like with no immediate family, and only really aquaintances around. Hmmm. Guess I'll just crack out another bean salad and see what happens.
More on Harrods: What a weird place. Owned by Egyptians apparently, which might be why there is an awful (truly awful) amount of gold crap on the walls. Impressive though - I can see what Ballantynes is trying to get at with all that crystal and crockery. At the end of the day though, it's all just a big pile of stuff, isn't it. I kept telling myself that, as I became increasingly intimidated by the snooty sales staff in the perfume section. I bought myself some banana gelato in the end, sat on the steps and listened to the security guards talking, and was happy with my lot.
On Saturday, it was really sunny and I read a good chunk of Adrian Mole at Kensington Gardens over the afternoon. A rally or two with the Ogosport set ensued, and after recovering over a snack consisting mainly of cheese, Craig and I were joined by some of his friends, who then took us to another friend's house in Fulham. Fulham is where I had my crushingly awful job interview, so completely justifiably (in my head), I didn't want to go there ever again. Ever. But there was promise of pizza and no one asking me stupid questions about work all night, so I went along and ended up having a good time.
Our TV and our washing machine are broken. I'm not really upset about either, now that I've discovered surfthechannel.com, and 'Suds', a laundrette just down the road from us, which is deserted on a Sunday morning, and well positioned for sun. So that's what I did on Sunday when I woke up - three loads worth of laundry. It would appear that it is our washing machine that has been ruining clothes, not the water in London, so I'll stop harping on about that.
Though it has taken much away recently, Park Mansions has gifted us the rather excellent company of a good woman by the name of Nicola (my Brick Lane friend), and I had a very enjoyable time gas-bagging with her in the sun, watching our clothes go round and round.
I am so impatient sometimes. I want to know about my job NOW. I want to move house NOW. I don't like not knowing what is going to happening in the coming weeks. I want a PLAN. In fact, I've made a flowchart of my life and I'm not happy with the amount of 'maybe' and 'depending' entries on it. Must take charge. Be more active. Power power power. Ugh. I think I just need a lie down. Perhaps.
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