I know there have been alot of pictures recently, I worked out how to send pictures directly to my blog with Mark's phone. Then I told him about it and he reset it so that they went straight to his blog instead :( but on the upside of that I've decided to get a blackberry when I'm due an upgrade which is sometime in July-so not long to wait! Any advice would be gratefully accepted about which are good handsets/tariffs. Anyway, those pictures below are a mish-mash of pictures that I liked on his phone-except the health and safety pictures, I always knew that I wanted them on here that's why I was a little late for work that morning. I'll annotate them at some point.

The picture above is the result of a 'what colour is your personality' test which I completed because of a conversation I had with my new colleages about how accurate they are and I couldn't join in fully because although I know that my aura is mostly green and yellow (a fact that recieved sniggers and rolling eyes) I had no idea what colour my personality was. Well now I do. It's green, like my aura. I don't much like the interpretation, but in a round about way it's true. But then I could find a bit that's true for every personaility colour. Hey-ho, now it's back to searching for venues, dresses Etc. and trying to find a polite way to say 'I don't actually like you therefor you're not invited.' wish me luck!

fuck it, that'll do

As I was walking to work this morning I notice the man in front of me, he was squat and barrel shaped and walked by swinging his arms outward and to a lesser extent his legs, he looked like a large bipedal lizard. As I was thinking this a small woman in a fawn coloured woolly had sped past like a deer running through the open. I think i might be watching too much David Attenborough as I seem to have turned my walk to work into a surreal safari!

Work was a little strange as I started in a new department today, the guy who's training me is really nice and open about never having trained anyone before and said if I think I need anything different just to say and we'd work it out. I said not to worry as I've had tonnes of training and I'm not shy so I will let him know if I'm not clear, but that it wouldn't actually show until I started doing stuff rather than watching other people do it. Part of the job is to go around the building checking for faults, I am so glad that I wore flat shoes and not the killer heels that make me feel great psychologically but cripple me physically. More about the new job when I know a bit more about it, my mind's still a bit shell shocked with everything I've learnt today.

I'd love to give you a thought provoking and structured entry, but as I've mentioned, we've found somewhere new to live so I've spent most of tonight having a bit of a clothes cull, a major sort out so that I can at least see what I've got, looking at books while Mark packed them up and painting my nails then peeling off the varnish-well I had to have a little bit of me time. So I simply haven't the time at the moment, sorry dolls.

I'll be back and sensible when life is a little calmer and, ironically, I have less to write about!

Notice, again...

Got back from Lunch today to be told that I'm finishing up next Friday.

I think I'll quote Captain Darling.

"Bugger."

There, now that's a bit better. Merry Christmas you fuckers.

On my way to work this morning

I saw a pooh-leece boat speeding down the river with it's siren blazing and wondered who they were warning of their presence? The only other boats moving was the clipper-trundling along in an elderly manner taking it's predictable route. The smaller police boat was screeching it's siren and weaving along. The other thing that came to mind was, who are they actually going after, is there a cormorant fishing without a license? They disappear under Tower Bridge and I carry on over it, just as I get to the south side gates I see a song thrush, dead on the ground in a fenced in part of the bridge. I know which bird it is instantly, it has text book markings so perfect that at first I thought it was a child's toy, a stuffed replica of the real thing. Well it was stuffed in a sense. It made me a little sad, but I carried on to work. I'm leaving early today to register with an agency that might find me a permanent job and to get anti baby pills from the doctor. They both need to be done, but I'm not fussed either way by them neither looking forward to nor dreading them, just a chore that I have to do.

I've just been told in the lift by the Mayor's PA that she would want a mountain of them, gesturing to my egg on toast, as there's practically nothing to it. I bet there's not even butter on that says she. well there is-lot of in fact. Because I'm slim people tend to think I don't eat-this is not the case, I eat and I eat well, I just use the energy that I get from the food I eat. I think that has something to do with having a full time day job and a part time night job. Either way, if I start getting fat I'll adjust the levels of intake and activity accordingly-this seems to be the bit about weight control that most people don't understand.

I was thinking some really profound stuff last night whilst I was smoking outside of the pub-I was a little stoned and tipsy so it probably wasn't that interesting to a sober mind and I knew at the time I'd never remember it today, but I thought wouldn't it be good if you could somehow record your thoughts as you think them then delete the ones you don't want to publish are correct the spellings on the word you've been slurring? I guess not really, blogspot would become an attic full of peoples old thoughts that they will never use again but didn't have the heart to discard-which it is, in a way, I suppose.
Skye told me once that I shouldn't hold on to the negative things-diary entries, text messages or anything that's broken my heart. But I can't help myself, I need to keep them for reference to try to learn from them, but I don't I just go over them again and again, opening emotional scars, picking the scab so it bleeds. I used to do that physically (I was emo when everyone else was grunge) but I can't do that any more, 13 years old and it's a cry for help 29 years old and it's a free trip to the funny farm. I wish I'd learnt alternative ways to deal with negative emotions at the time. Poor me, any suggestions?

I don't believe that any one's reading my blog and I can't work out the analytics page to see anything useful, so by show of hands (or indeed comments) I'll ask you that if you've read this please leave me a comment, even if its an emoticon just so that I can get the gist of it.

For now I'll do a token amount of work then get on with flat/job hunting-everything is about tho change so if you're already here, keep reading!

Applications and tarot cards

I applied for a job today. The one I'm currently employed in. I wont get it, I know I wont. I don't care enough about the work I've been given so I've been really half arsed thinking as a temp I'll be out of here soon anyway. 18 months + down the line I'm still here and they are looking for permanent staff-bugger. I love the place I work in-geographically it's perfect, walking distance, nice route, nice views, close to the pub job. The people I work with are (for the most part) lovely and there's a good social aspect. As it's City Hall it looks wonderful on my CV, but the work I'm given is tedious and finicky and, fuck me, dull as ditch water.

I hate form filling, but had resolved to make a great job of it and last night was set up to do just that, Mark was out for the evening, I had emailed the application pack and colleagues applications for the same job so I've got some guidance and sat down to 'kick this form in the balls.' Having done the easy bits-name, address, DOB... I decided to go for a smoke. Now let me explain the way you get into the flat that I live in: first there is a wrought iron gate that you need a chub key to get in, then there is the front door which is a modern uPVC one with a handle that you unlock with a yale key. Now you're in the building. The entrance to the flat also requires two keys, a chub lock on the first door leading to a space that is less than 1m square then a yale lock to get into the flat. Yes, I know that's a lot of locks. So I've got a notepad to jot down a few ideas, a cigarette, a lighter, yale door closes, no key to get through the chub door. So now both doors are locked and I have no key and, on closer inspection, I've also forgotten my pen. Ahhh well, it's 20:45 Mark said he'd be home before 22:30 so it can't be long till he's leaving anyway so I won't bother him. I smoke and wait. I search my pockets for something of use, finding my oyster card holder-I've been meaning to sort it out for a while so I remove all the old train tickets and travel cards (except the ones I want to keep for sentimental reasons) and absent mindedly start shuffling them. So now I'm sitting on a laminate floor surrounded by shoes and reading my travel cards (they predicted more London Loop walks and trips to Wales).

Wow. Matches! I'm not going to start playing with fire in a small space that I can't get out of, but if I strike a match and let it burn, it'll make charcoal and at least then I can doodle, so I do this with 8 matches and design an imaginary garden perfecting my use of a spent match as a pen as I go. Now it's about 22:00 Mark must be on his way home by now. I text him a cryptic text saying I'm in limbo without him and could he get me some chocolate-haven't had any dinner yet! At 22:20 I start calling him. No response. I get a call back at 22:35 telling me he's just left, I tell him to make haste as I'm stuck in the hallway, he wants to know why I didn't call him earlier "because I didn't want to spoil your evening" says I. It's true, I wouldn't have thought twice about it a few weeks ago but then, every thing's different now.

Thoughts of the application form have long left my head, I want food now (I didn't get my chocolate bar as Mark had no money) quick, easy, pasta it is.

So I completed the form in a rush this morning. In short it's a half arsed application for a job that I do half arsed everyday. If I get anywhere it will be a miracle. Maybe it'll help that I'm already here, that shouldn't make a difference but it's not what you know it's who you know in this life. Unfortunately I've just discovered the person that short lists the application forms is the only person here that seems to have a problem with me.

Should've gone to the pub instead.

Happy Birthday MpB!

Last weekend was a great one. I don't have time to go into everything in detail but I'll do the itinery and fill in the gaps later.
Friday: Sam Smiths pub with Marks workmates and Dave.
Angel for 'do you remember the first time'-never made it, Steam passage for last orders.
Chip shop Mark has a need for excessive salt.
I fell asleep almost instantly Mark and Dave sat up chatting til dawn.
Saturday: Chelmsford. Pitch and putt with Mark, Dave and Luke then on to Romford dogs. Mark had a £40+ win-lucky sod, well it is his birthday weekend. Home. must. sleep.
Sunday: Dave and Jadey came to London. London museum. Wheterspoons for dinner. Then Two Brewers in Whitecross street. I pointed out where we'll be living on a map in the city-wish we were there already. We walked Dave and Jadey to Liverpool street then walked home.

It doesn't sound like much when it's put like that, but trust me it was well worth it!

I hate working Fridays!

Pub work is lame.

That is all.

The most boring night of my life

Was last night at the pub. I was working not drinking and socialising with friends although I've had a few nights that have come close (meeting old friends that you no longer have anything in common with and end up having stifled conversations about public transport or the weather).

But last night was verging on painful. I wasn't with my favourite people, none of the customers were even vaguely interesting and the main manager was supervising. Yes he has some good and un-pc jokes on his phone which he shares with us, but that can only last so long. I happened to know my arch nemisis was drinking around the corner and I hadn't gotten around to phoning the pubs in the local area as part of 'pub watch' ie theif in the area and I walked past the bitch on my way to work, which really pissed me off. I tried not to think about her and suceeded, but the boredom that followed was so intense I almost wish I'd allowed myself to be angry instead. I had half an hour break at about 20:40 and couldn't find anywhere to go so I had a cigerette then loitered around the bar. By 21:15 I was back behind the bar and had reached my capacity for boredom, by 21:40 I was the most bored it is humanly possible to be and there was nearly two hours left of my shift. TWO HOURS!!!!!

Between then and the end, I tried to list in hy head all the nice things Mark has done for me over the last 18 months. I got as far as the apple danish he got me for breakfast a week or so ago but the intrisic and repeating boredom had settled in by then and I got bored with that.
Then I rememberd the episode of the young ones called bored where Vivian puts his foot through the telly which put me in mind of Bottom-I'm currently amking my way through seris 1-3 on DVD so I started humming the men behving badly theme tune, this is some strange link between the two seris' that I have made in my own head, I think it's a prompt as to which comedy seris I should acquire next.

And now I'm at my day job, the system has crashed again and the boredom is edging it's way back. But at least here I can blog and perhaps buy men behaving badly on Amazon!

I've been called mental in various different ways and for a number of different things quite alot recently. Some of the things I've done I admit are a little strange but most of them are the sort of things that I'm sure everyone thinks but not everyone says.
For example the same person has called me autistic twice in the last few weeks, once for claiming I'm good with numbers and once for reciting the Big Breakfast competition address and the Going Live competition phone number. Although I think these are due to a certain amount of television brainwashing (surely everyone of my age who was baby sat by the telly can do this?) and suppressed competition entries (I always wanted to enter the competitions but wasn't allowed to use the phone and my Mum thought writing in was a waste of time).
Last night at PQT I was arranging boxes of mugs for members of the public to take once they had filled in their comments forms. I got a tad over creative with the positioning of the boxes and a little upset when someone actually had to take one-ruining my display which resulted in me spending most of my time putting new boxes where the old ones had been to keep my display intact. A colleage called me a "perfectionist." The quote marks were added by my colleage at the time and are not a later addition by myself.
Another example from work: I have posh coffee that is ground for filter, alot of the people I work with have the same sort and it's become a sort of trend amoung us. However, I triple filter mine. I'm being economical, using a small amount of coffee and running it through the paper filter three time using two cups. This was described as compulsive coffee making.
One from home now: we have two sauce pans and a steamer one sauce pan is larger than the steamer, one is smaller. It's clear to me that the large one is for pasta, boiled potatoes and the like, the small one is for beans, pasta sauces etc and the steamer is for vegetables. Now last week I saw my boyfriend take the 'pasta' sauce pan off of the draining board and use it to cook beans, so I said he was being lazy not taking the 'beans' sauce pan out of the cupboard. It turns out this sort of thing is not instinctual to him and I had to explain the difference while he looked at me, half smirking half amazed.

I know each of these actions has a perfectly reasonable explanation be it economical, environmental, inspirational or just plain common sense. But I seem to be the only person on earth who thinks these things.

As long as I don't tell my psychiatrist I should be alright....



********
Additional. When I tread on a crack in the pavement that I can feel through my shoe I try to stand on another similar sized crack with the same part of my other foot to even things up. I've only told one person about this, he didn't call me mental-it turns out he does the same thing.

Prioritise EVERYTHING!

I left my book at the pub last night. It's not a problem, I haven't lost it forever or anything, I work there and it was left on a shelf behind the bar with my scarf. Ironically so that I wouldn't forget it when I left to go home. So this morning on my way to work instead of having my nose in a book I looked around me. I have a particularly nice view on my way to work as I cross Tower Bridge and go along the South Bank a little way, so I really should appriciate it a little more. I watched the Thames swell showing smooth surfaces looking like a balloon streatched and close to bursting and ripples like the same balloon after it had burst, looking old wrinkled and useless. Cormerants on the surface taking a deep breath to dive. It was lovely. There's always something going on in the green outside City Hall and this morning there was a huge inflateable dome that wasn't there yesterday, I'll see what that's all about at lunch time.

I got into work ten minutes early to be greeted by my boss asking if I had finished a task she gave me on Tuesday afternoon. To explain, I've done this before and it took the best part of a week and yesterday I had to go to a meeting, take the minutes and type them up. On top of which she has put me on phone duty which means that as soon as you get any kind of flow for anything you're doing the phone rings and you have to stop. So my reply was "no, I'm afraid I haven't had the time to finish it yet, but I'll get on to it now if you want." She tells me it's a priority to get it done so start it ASAP. I'm not even meant to be here yet and I know she wont sign my timesheet for a minute over my contracted hours. "And the TfL post didn't go out yesterday so can you do that as a priority too?" she added accusitory. She didn't even ask me to do that so that can't be my fault! She's obviously read the word 'priority' in a memo she's recently recieved and got the jist of the meaning but not quite the correct definition, I really want to tell her that if she keeps calling things "priority" it equates to nothing being a priority and that if you want someone to do something you a) have to ask them and b) give then enough time to get it done.

And today started off with so much promise!

I was working on the phones today

and the word I said most was "knob-head".

That is all.

Monday, Monday

I didn't get to Super Picnic Sunday, it didn't happen.

Friday was fun, drinks with colleagues then to the Gladstone to see Tom Rodwell again, he never disappoints and this was no different. I stayed in the pub until the bitter end and had a little chat with Tom, he even gave me some careers advice! I wasn't drunk at all, which is surprising because I'd had wine at work then leffe in the pub and either of those on their own usually floors me. I think it might have been the slight intimidation I felt from all the directors that were there, it wouldn't be a good idea to get drunk and start shrieking.

Saturday was shit.
I was left in the cold.
I didn't get the shopping I wanted for Super Picnic Sunday.
The garage next door have a sound system that shakes the foundations of the flat.
I had to go to work.
I was working with my least favourite people.
I was foolish and gave my number to a guy that wants to take me out.
although he left shortly afterwards I know he'll come back, he's asked after me when I've not been working and now I've...

...oh, shit.

I shall send a message declining, I don't know exactly what I'll say, I'll make something up. Don't give me a reason to go, just don't I'll finish us. I know I will.

Sunday was better, I nearly told Mark what's bugging me. But I couldn't formulate the words. However I imagined myself saying it seemed to send the wrong message. I don't want him to hate me but I know from experience that it won't be my defences he jumps to. I'm not the one who started this, and I can see the sneakyness that he can't, the sideways looks checking if I'm around, the guilt that shows a hug means more than it should. It's not for me to point it out again, I'll be left with and "I told you so" and a broken heart. We went over to Mark's brothers for dinner Kelly had made home made quiche and some lovely potatoe salad. We watched too much telly and Justin and I had a sly smoke and because it was both of us Mark didn't judge me as much as he would have at home.

It was a long journey back, quite a long walk to the station at that end (and we got slightly lost which meant my idea that we should aim for the second from last train was a worthy one) then a long walk from London Bridge to home. We didn't want to go straight to sleep and so watched a bit more Red Dwarf-the later series, not my favourites. I fell asleep during the second episode and Mark woke me to ask me if I was asleep.

People are incompetent

I open letters for the Mayor of London, here are some of the things I've seen written in them. People really do say the funniest and stupidest things sometimes!

shootong (shooting). loose a loved one. i am a single working part-time mother
wondered why "sky" was not painted or stick to the sides of the car as enormous
inviolved evidense incompetance offense
a letter from Turkey with 31 stamps on it containing a single A4 sheet of paper
buss reniual condiductor borugh
help me lot time/i like lot/they very good/please no close Deaf project/we very trust them/please you help no close deaf project/please you write me say what happen.
remeber Human Tighs ploce state exttradition privet sector
Concerns over your statement you made on TV saying. You was looking into the numbers of affordable housing which haerd reconised as to weather the man..
fell off his pocket phone latter gherbils this is lies envielmental police
asre pacience whenver forigners througout trammer (trauma)
eletric over ground train routs read side (road side) fire seves (services) beeing
it coast over a million waring (warning) rong dose (does) flonting the law
beleave me a police sitting in a car respible
hope I wont be fobbed off with a letter (because judging by the one you have written you won't be able to read it!)
I personally alone with many others.. he felt know sexual inclinations
this lot is from a PCSO:
cummity diverty disapline keeps them of the street comunicate
they'r wheather photoe had a bite of bad luck badley diversty
knifes homes who parents are God help us moped head tubu station
in the late 80s (october 1984 to be precise) pention recie electrolasis
eletodes pumpt intoe thats wright combution coffe exibition
yaddies
likely i escaped in founding an honest workman traters (bnp leaflet) mobil telefone
cease my goods
you intend making changes to the system (this one's from the house of commons)
movie stairs on the bus conveiate building survivor being a nuance
didnt no at the time drug test was Clare speed aidvitamens wakening for my baby locazaid the parson i was in hospital with section out on ball
he dose no i wont it removed
i like what i have study travel & tourism I like kids old parson i can sing love to go on big brother. i am very concern youth who are invole in i have a small scare
my hushand has been in the removals business we cannot possible ask our customers
access for disables people
addressed to KL congratulating him on a winning tv campaign-3 months after he lost
we no these useless labour...we was glad to see the back of..
these letters you see in the papers are wrote by...
keep well away from them there nasty barmy people
Livingstone dune nothing.. dont give a dam se me and my wife pleas do
I have all the werk loged apolergise I' am incompertent arsking wast
whot conpleet pensernase (pensioners) fore years arfter nothink
projek emforsimea (emphysema) wich i dought enythink seeing you in our mist mehboob (thats a real name!) I am sadden to be writing this excusing him of not stopping an unfortunately situation success in city hall and your mayor ship Meir rewuest
treveling do not no the area alcahol I would be very greatly if you could once again..
I am a virgin, roman catholic single mother of my only child. sunny crouch (real name)


I did note the irony in the original name for this post "spellin errors" and yes, missing the g was a genuine mistake!

I'm going to make it happen

I met a lady today who is going to help me improve my German-did I mention I was trying to learn it? She seems sehr nett and very organised so I think this will work out quite well. It will be nice to speak freely with someone, not worrying about mistakes and practising speaking and listening with someone who knows what I need to learn. Yes this is a good way to learn, all she wants from me is some correction on her (flawless) English and some pointers on colloquial phrases. Ohhh, I could crush a grape! I don't think she will want to know that one!
Work was boring but I'm making alot of headway on my 'spelling mistakes' document, it's about 3 pages long now-I'll publish the best bits one day but for the time being it's just something that makes the day go by a little quicker. Speaking of work I have all but stopped looking for something permanent-it just doesn't seem urgent enough while I'm temping esp in a place where I like it as much as I do, I think it's best to hang around and see if anything comes up there that I can do-I need to start thinking about all of this seriously soon but what I can do is so specified and opportunities don't come up all that often-I'll stop there this is turning into a whinge.
On the up side; just one more year, earning and saving and learning then I get to go and make a new start. I can hardly wait, it is what I want if not what I need and the wheel's are in motion.

I love it when a plan comes together.