Given that I've been unemployed, one might have expected a higher number of blog updates than usual. That is not an unreasonable expectation and yet I have failed to deliver. Something about getting too caught up in SIMs2 or walks across the moors. But perhaps, more likely, the feeling of the most severe self-disappointment and lack of self-worth that comes with being unable to obtain employment despite a high number of academic qualifications as well as related professional experience. Such sentiments are surely not conducive to high amounts of blogging about the details of one's existence. At least, so it would seem, in this instance.
Luckily, all that is over. I have, for all intents and purposes, secured a position with the Environment Agency. I can now nod enthusiastically at all the folk who assured me that it would eventually happen, that good things come to those who wait, that sometimes it's just a matter of being patient for the right opportunity to come along. Yes, yes, and yes. All pithy comments are acknowledged and accepted. But despite the obvious manifestation of their veracity there is still an underlying resentment at the facility with which they were spoken when I was finding it hard to lift my head from my arms. And an prolonged uneasiness as I wait out the next few weeks in anticipation of the return of my CRB.
Still, in heed of the platitudes, I shall stay positive and assume that everything's going to be all right. Come January 12, I'll hopefully be a working girl with all the lovely income that entails. And, quite probably, with a bit more material to put into my blogs.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
How it feels to be free...
Already hosted a dinner for Paula and Thomas and a weekend for Marta. Already had a cawfee in the city with a friend. Already almost killed two of the six thousand plants that the landlady left behind. Already did seven loads of washing. Already celebrated a thirty third birthday. Already wanting more people to come and visit. Already stepped into every pub in the village boundaries (one is very posh, one is very naff, one is very same-y, and one smells of vomit). Already got the internet set up and the boxes unpacked in the spare room. Already been sick twice. Already miss my friends. Already tramped around Bradford and Leeds, pounding on the doors of uninterested recruitment consultants. Already found the house we want to buy if we get jobs. Already found three skate parks, not that we skate. Already had something from Amazon delivered. Already went on a five mile walk in the moors. Already ordered pizza (which was so awful it didn't matter that two pizzas came to less than eight pounds). Already had to fill the gas tank up twice. Already tried out all the parks in walking distance. Already started running again and signed up for a 10K. Already convinced that this was the right decision. Already happier to be here than we thought possible. All ready to make this our home.
Photos on Facebook
Photos on Facebook
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Cowley Road
lovin' the cowley road
today i took a proper ramble down the cowley road... mostly in search of cawfee as I had none in the house. but i was glad for it, despite the closed-ness of the shops and of all the cafes that i had intended on popping into. for one, the sun was shining (in Oxford, *gasp!), officially the first full day of sun since May.
And as i came out from the wee foresty path that runs past Oxford Community School, i found an Asian lady, sat on a carpet on the footpath, peddling gourds. Not a familiar sight, even on the Cowley Road, but strangely comforting and with a sense of belonging. As i had no need for a gourd, i didn't stop to comment on her veg, though had i done so, i might have pointed out that she might have been a bit too far off the beaten path to drum up much business. Also, she happened to have placed herself smack dab in between two allotments. Likely that the passers-by in that particular road had gourds of their own. But perhaps not.
From there to the Restore Cafe, not open, but a perfect space for sitting in the prettiness having a cuppa. Then to Baba, not open till five. Further on down the road... Costa. Nah, too typical and chain market for the Cowley Road. G&Ds would be perfect except it's all indoor seating and who could be inside on a day like today?
Past all the murals and the asian shops and the turkish shops and the greek deli. Past the Raja House, past Nandos, past the scary Beauty Lounge where they wax your legs in their front room, past the ethical office building, and the corner bar that's changed names five times since i moved to Oxford. Past Red Star, past the Tescos from hell, past the Age Concern, the Oxfam Shop, Barnardos, and Reign. Past the community centre that might get shut down for not paying the rent. And the churches. And the independent cinema that only ever shows An Inconvenient Truth. Past Marios and Chicken Cottage, past the games shop and VideoSyncratic. Past fifteen bike shops and on down the road that i could navigate with my eyes shut (but probably would get hit by a car, bus, bike, or big issue seller, if not all four at once).
End up in the Kazbar, by the open window, watching the wackos and the tourists go by, drinking two pound espressos, eating free tapas (chick peas and harissa), and reading a book about a man who decided to swim across Britain... what could be better?
Did i mention the sun was shining?
Related Links
Indeed, Harissa is not a bean!
today i took a proper ramble down the cowley road... mostly in search of cawfee as I had none in the house. but i was glad for it, despite the closed-ness of the shops and of all the cafes that i had intended on popping into. for one, the sun was shining (in Oxford, *gasp!), officially the first full day of sun since May.
And as i came out from the wee foresty path that runs past Oxford Community School, i found an Asian lady, sat on a carpet on the footpath, peddling gourds. Not a familiar sight, even on the Cowley Road, but strangely comforting and with a sense of belonging. As i had no need for a gourd, i didn't stop to comment on her veg, though had i done so, i might have pointed out that she might have been a bit too far off the beaten path to drum up much business. Also, she happened to have placed herself smack dab in between two allotments. Likely that the passers-by in that particular road had gourds of their own. But perhaps not.
From there to the Restore Cafe, not open, but a perfect space for sitting in the prettiness having a cuppa. Then to Baba, not open till five. Further on down the road... Costa. Nah, too typical and chain market for the Cowley Road. G&Ds would be perfect except it's all indoor seating and who could be inside on a day like today?
Past all the murals and the asian shops and the turkish shops and the greek deli. Past the Raja House, past Nandos, past the scary Beauty Lounge where they wax your legs in their front room, past the ethical office building, and the corner bar that's changed names five times since i moved to Oxford. Past Red Star, past the Tescos from hell, past the Age Concern, the Oxfam Shop, Barnardos, and Reign. Past the community centre that might get shut down for not paying the rent. And the churches. And the independent cinema that only ever shows An Inconvenient Truth. Past Marios and Chicken Cottage, past the games shop and VideoSyncratic. Past fifteen bike shops and on down the road that i could navigate with my eyes shut (but probably would get hit by a car, bus, bike, or big issue seller, if not all four at once).
End up in the Kazbar, by the open window, watching the wackos and the tourists go by, drinking two pound espressos, eating free tapas (chick peas and harissa), and reading a book about a man who decided to swim across Britain... what could be better?
Did i mention the sun was shining?
Related Links
Indeed, Harissa is not a bean!
Friday, August 29, 2008
Plan B, here we come!
Seeing as I'm apparently unemployable (a fair bit a self-deprecation is only to be expected at this point), we're off to Plan B*. Sinéad and I have found ourselves a sweet little house to rent "up north". Technically we'll be living in Bradford, but the mere name seems to send a shiver up the spines of even the hardiest southern brits, so we like to say "Leeds" or "near Shipley". Goes over much better and you get fewer sympathetic looks.
We're moving up at the end of September and have many fingers crossed that there will be some sort of positive job activity before that time. Still, it would seem that the temping market is bustling so we shouldn't have many worries about paying for our existence. So there you have it, the decision made. What began as a winsome discussion in mid-June has transformed into our hiring a medium-size and booking out the local for a big farewell bash.
For all them Yanks that still owe me a visit (Rachel, Edie, Robbie, Alison, Tara, Karen, the list really does go on and go...) look at flying into Leeds-Bradford or Manchester rather than London. Come and explore the Dales or join us on a wee wander to Hebden Bridge, which is apparently the lesbian capital of the north. On our brief sojourn, I will say that there were some wandering about the place, but no more than you might see at Victoria Station in London.
Stay tuned for all the trials and tribulations of job hunting and crap temp work... again. But not until after the 27th... until then I've got a mad social calendar (all them goodbyes) and a week in the South of France, watching Jo's ever-expanding belly.
*see previous post
Related Links:
Bradford
Yorkshire Dales
Lesbians swap Birks for Wellies (apparently)
We're moving up at the end of September and have many fingers crossed that there will be some sort of positive job activity before that time. Still, it would seem that the temping market is bustling so we shouldn't have many worries about paying for our existence. So there you have it, the decision made. What began as a winsome discussion in mid-June has transformed into our hiring a medium-size and booking out the local for a big farewell bash.
For all them Yanks that still owe me a visit (Rachel, Edie, Robbie, Alison, Tara, Karen, the list really does go on and go...) look at flying into Leeds-Bradford or Manchester rather than London. Come and explore the Dales or join us on a wee wander to Hebden Bridge, which is apparently the lesbian capital of the north. On our brief sojourn, I will say that there were some wandering about the place, but no more than you might see at Victoria Station in London.
Stay tuned for all the trials and tribulations of job hunting and crap temp work... again. But not until after the 27th... until then I've got a mad social calendar (all them goodbyes) and a week in the South of France, watching Jo's ever-expanding belly.
*see previous post
Related Links:
Bradford
Yorkshire Dales
Lesbians swap Birks for Wellies (apparently)
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Quittin' Time
I handed in my resignation. In a country where the words "economic downturn" are more pervasive than "nuvver pint, guvner", perhaps this doesn't seem like the most sensible option. Still I need to move on and do something more. Given that Miss Sinéad is also currently sans boulot, we've got ourselves a plan or two.
PLAN A:
Based entirely on the two job applications that I've got in right now. If I get either of the jobs, that's it, we'll take that, set up shop, and settle down for the next three years as I count down days to citizenship. Sinéad will continue to do outreach work, whether volunteering or paid, until she has enough direct contact hours to get herself a decent job in social care and a degree paid for by the council.
PLAN B:
If neither of the jobs pans out, we're off! Up north where it's cheaper to live, there's loads of social work for Sinéad and where I'll have to sit down and do some serious thinking about where on earth I'm going to end up in this world. In the meantime, I'll do some temping and try and get my foot in various doors.
It's a bit of a waiting game for the moment... I've got an interview on the 13th in Oxford, but we're heading to Leeds this weekend to start scoping out where we might want to live. And so the excitement begins...
Related Links:
Leeds
PLAN A:
Based entirely on the two job applications that I've got in right now. If I get either of the jobs, that's it, we'll take that, set up shop, and settle down for the next three years as I count down days to citizenship. Sinéad will continue to do outreach work, whether volunteering or paid, until she has enough direct contact hours to get herself a decent job in social care and a degree paid for by the council.
PLAN B:
If neither of the jobs pans out, we're off! Up north where it's cheaper to live, there's loads of social work for Sinéad and where I'll have to sit down and do some serious thinking about where on earth I'm going to end up in this world. In the meantime, I'll do some temping and try and get my foot in various doors.
It's a bit of a waiting game for the moment... I've got an interview on the 13th in Oxford, but we're heading to Leeds this weekend to start scoping out where we might want to live. And so the excitement begins...
Related Links:
Leeds
Thursday, May 29, 2008
La francophasie
In a daring follow up to the jingoistic blog of last Thursday, I thought I'd better prove to my French friends that I really do appreciate the wonders of francophanie so they won't cancel any more drinks rendez-vous...
So here goes... all the splendours of la France that deserve kudos:
1) Aires every 10 km on the motorways
2) Croissants, fougasses, etc etc etc
3) Fresh produce that doesn't taste like water
4) 24-hour bakeries
5) Flyovers and underpasses instead of roundabouts
6) Cheap, good wine
7) Philosophy
8) Museums and collections of art that are unrivalled
9) Loverly countryside
10) Brilliant health care system (despite a scary tendency to prescribe suppositories)
11) Mimosa Festivals and Citrus Festivals
12) Socca
13) Some things can only be expressed with French swear words
14) Culture and culture both
15) An actual separation of Church and State
16) One of the first countries to allow for civil unions
17) Café culture
18) TGV and good train systems
19) Some of my favorite people are French (and named Marion)
Please add your own and together we shall celebrate the French!
Related Links
Fête du citron
What some random guy thinks are the best things about France
Eurovision 2008
So here goes... all the splendours of la France that deserve kudos:
1) Aires every 10 km on the motorways
2) Croissants, fougasses, etc etc etc
3) Fresh produce that doesn't taste like water
4) 24-hour bakeries
5) Flyovers and underpasses instead of roundabouts
6) Cheap, good wine
7) Philosophy
8) Museums and collections of art that are unrivalled
9) Loverly countryside
10) Brilliant health care system (despite a scary tendency to prescribe suppositories)
11) Mimosa Festivals and Citrus Festivals
12) Socca
13) Some things can only be expressed with French swear words
14) Culture and culture both
15) An actual separation of Church and State
16) One of the first countries to allow for civil unions
17) Café culture
18) TGV and good train systems
19) Some of my favorite people are French (and named Marion)
Please add your own and together we shall celebrate the French!
Related Links
Fête du citron
What some random guy thinks are the best things about France
Eurovision 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Bloody Frogs (for those sensitive to slurs against the French people, look away now)
The French complain of everything, and always.
Napoleon I (1769-1821) Napoleon Bonaparte. French general.
Ahhhhh! The French! Because they do not want to have to work an extra year in public service to earn their pension, they're striking. Again! And Again! Yesterday fishermen blockaded the Calais port to protest a rise in marine fuel prices (this will help how?!) and today the whole freaking nation is striking to protest that fact that Sarkozy is actually trying to make plausible pension reforms. Pfft.
So, all this boils down to the the French can do what they please (it is nice to see action against government, the English could take a lesson) but not when it affects my holidays! (Ah, now do you see... it is all about me). So, instead of ferrying my way to Paris to see Miss Sheila, oh, pardon, DR. TUREK, I'm here on my computer, waiting for the laundry to finish, contemplating going into work to print out A.B.'s emails.
There's not even any point of trying to just hang around Dover because the motorway is so backed up with lorries that they recommend bringing food and water in case of queues... can you imagine?! Don't even get me started on the British Motorways... the system is absolutely ridiculous. But that's really a rant for another day (pretty much any other day)- today we're focusing on the French.
Ah, the French, those kings of grammar and dictation, those masters of croissant and the smell of french bread in a can, those whinging frogs who take their benefits and government services for granted and burn cars when the government dares to suggest that perhaps they should work for their money...
Well, enough of this, it's time to hang the laundry on the line.
Related links:
Bring food and water for a trip on the Motorway?!
French Industrial Action
Napoleon I (1769-1821) Napoleon Bonaparte. French general.
Ahhhhh! The French! Because they do not want to have to work an extra year in public service to earn their pension, they're striking. Again! And Again! Yesterday fishermen blockaded the Calais port to protest a rise in marine fuel prices (this will help how?!) and today the whole freaking nation is striking to protest that fact that Sarkozy is actually trying to make plausible pension reforms. Pfft.
So, all this boils down to the the French can do what they please (it is nice to see action against government, the English could take a lesson) but not when it affects my holidays! (Ah, now do you see... it is all about me). So, instead of ferrying my way to Paris to see Miss Sheila, oh, pardon, DR. TUREK, I'm here on my computer, waiting for the laundry to finish, contemplating going into work to print out A.B.'s emails.
There's not even any point of trying to just hang around Dover because the motorway is so backed up with lorries that they recommend bringing food and water in case of queues... can you imagine?! Don't even get me started on the British Motorways... the system is absolutely ridiculous. But that's really a rant for another day (pretty much any other day)- today we're focusing on the French.
Ah, the French, those kings of grammar and dictation, those masters of croissant and the smell of french bread in a can, those whinging frogs who take their benefits and government services for granted and burn cars when the government dares to suggest that perhaps they should work for their money...
Well, enough of this, it's time to hang the laundry on the line.
Related links:
Bring food and water for a trip on the Motorway?!
French Industrial Action
Monday, May 12, 2008
The Pink Bucket
'Tis the season for BBQs... lots and lots of BBQs.
As a vegetarian, there is the general concern that any vegetarian offerings will be chucked on with the meat and that all juices will meld with the nice tofu steaks and bean burgers. Not wanting to defend myself against the general banter that accompanies the voicing of this concern, I tend to stick to cheese and chip sandwhiches and the occasional nibble of an overly mayonaise-y potato salad (note: in the UK, potato salad is literally just potatoes and mayonaise... *gack!).
But! In addition to the UK being generally friendlier to vegetarians and doing moderately less mocking, I have also procured a little pink bucket bbq! Sinéad brought it home for me on Friday in advance of a very bbq-y weekend. It is important to note that because shopping is so crap in Oxford, she schlepped to High Wycomb, just to get me a present! (*gold star for Sinéad)
As a vegetarian, there is the general concern that any vegetarian offerings will be chucked on with the meat and that all juices will meld with the nice tofu steaks and bean burgers. Not wanting to defend myself against the general banter that accompanies the voicing of this concern, I tend to stick to cheese and chip sandwhiches and the occasional nibble of an overly mayonaise-y potato salad (note: in the UK, potato salad is literally just potatoes and mayonaise... *gack!).
But! In addition to the UK being generally friendlier to vegetarians and doing moderately less mocking, I have also procured a little pink bucket bbq! Sinéad brought it home for me on Friday in advance of a very bbq-y weekend. It is important to note that because shopping is so crap in Oxford, she schlepped to High Wycomb, just to get me a present! (*gold star for Sinéad)
So we had a little veggie grill for veggie hot dogs on Saturday at Pete and Kate's birthday bbq bash and we took the bbq along to Nat and James' on Sunday for yet ANOTHER bbq (with colleagues) except that I forgot the veggie dogs and ended up eating a high percentage of Helen's grilled haloumi.
Not only that! but this Sunday coming, we'll be using our little pink bucket again (menu as yet undecided). All in all, my little pink bucket bbq is fab and cost effective. Just what anyone could ask for!
Related Links:
You can buy one too!
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Observations from Delhi
Thoughts on my time in Delhi, noted at the moment of realization and brought home to the UK in scribbles on scraps of paper.
Delhi Observation #1
There is a visible smog inside the airport.
Delhi Observation #2
All the street dogs look alike.
Delhi Observation #3
All the men on motorbikes are wearing helmets, but none of the women who, by the way, ride side saddle.
Delhi Observation #4
The ice cream in Delhi is better than in the UK.
Delhi Observation #5
My hotel is in a rubbish location.
Delhi Observation #6
It takes ages to get anywhere; Delhi is expanses of nothing with pockets of something hidden here and there.
Delhi Observation #7
Homosexuals are known as Men who have sexual relations with other men as in "The Society for..."
Delhi Observation #8
There's no recycling in Delhi.
Delhi Observation #9
There is such a thing as a Mahaburger.
Delhi Observation #10
A cow lives on the median of an 8-lane road.
Delhi Observation #11
There are cold beverage carts selling cold beverages in the far left lane of the expressway.
Delhi Observation #12
You have to go through a metal detector to go to the cinema.
Delhi Observation #13
Burgers and club sandwiches are only available from room service between 7:00 and 10:30 AM.
Delhi Observation #14
It is not uncommon for a motorcycle to be going 120m/hr on the road and for the driver to have the helmet looped around his wrist.
Delhi Observation #15
Instant coffee is made with hot milk.
Delhi Observation #16
Bourbon Creams in Delhi are a very light, sickly brown color.
Delhi Observation #17
MacDonalds delivers.
Delhi Observation #18
There are no actual napkins; one has to use facial tissues.
Delhi Observation #19
Toblerone is the most common chocolate bar for sale.
Delhi Observation #20
Horns are used to indicate. It's expected that this is the case and people request more horns with signs on the backs of their vehicles.
Delhi Observation #1
There is a visible smog inside the airport.
Delhi Observation #2
All the street dogs look alike.
Delhi Observation #3
All the men on motorbikes are wearing helmets, but none of the women who, by the way, ride side saddle.
Delhi Observation #4
The ice cream in Delhi is better than in the UK.
Delhi Observation #5
My hotel is in a rubbish location.
Delhi Observation #6
It takes ages to get anywhere; Delhi is expanses of nothing with pockets of something hidden here and there.
Delhi Observation #7
Homosexuals are known as Men who have sexual relations with other men as in "The Society for..."
Delhi Observation #8
There's no recycling in Delhi.
Delhi Observation #9
There is such a thing as a Mahaburger.
Delhi Observation #10
A cow lives on the median of an 8-lane road.
Delhi Observation #11
There are cold beverage carts selling cold beverages in the far left lane of the expressway.
Delhi Observation #12
You have to go through a metal detector to go to the cinema.
Delhi Observation #13
Burgers and club sandwiches are only available from room service between 7:00 and 10:30 AM.
Delhi Observation #14
It is not uncommon for a motorcycle to be going 120m/hr on the road and for the driver to have the helmet looped around his wrist.
Delhi Observation #15
Instant coffee is made with hot milk.
Delhi Observation #16
Bourbon Creams in Delhi are a very light, sickly brown color.
Delhi Observation #17
MacDonalds delivers.
Delhi Observation #18
There are no actual napkins; one has to use facial tissues.
Delhi Observation #19
Toblerone is the most common chocolate bar for sale.
Delhi Observation #20
Horns are used to indicate. It's expected that this is the case and people request more horns with signs on the backs of their vehicles.
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