Thursday, 11 October 2018
Life is Good(ish)
I've had a surprisingly okay last few days - trip to the sad remains of Margate yesterday aside - for one simple reason: I only went and got the job!! Got the call Monday afternoon and I couldn't be more pleased. Would've liked to find a proper way to celebrate - alcohol maybe? - but I'll take a trip to Shoreditch with my best friend for vintage clothes window-shopping, burritos and killer African hot chocolate - which I did on Tuesday. The hot chocolate, by the way, was cardamom-infused and topped with shaved chocolate, and has probably ruined me for any and all future experiences with hot chocolate. That was a celebration for sure! And to top it off, I learnt that one of the magazines I sent some of my poetry to back in July (Brittle Star) has accepted my piece called Astronauts in Hard Hats (based on the real life event of two construction workers on a tyre swing in my local park). Also, my sister is coming home for the weekend tomorrow. So I'm feeling pretty okay about life at the moment, depression, anxiety and general mental health aside.
Sunday, 7 October 2018
A Sickness of the Populace
Well, my aforementioned interview is now three days in the past and tomorrow I find out if I have succeeded or not. For now, though, I am suffering with one of my rarely-experienced colds. I probably picked it up from any one of the millions travelling through London or someone in the office during my placement at the start of this week. It was, of course, inevitable, and I know if I was doing that sort of thing on a more regular basis, I might even build up an immunity to it all, but this one burst of exposure has taken advantage of me. Right now, I'm almost through the drippy-nose stage and have reached the stuffy nose/head stage which makes me feel tired a lot. I'm hoping to skip the cough if possible because that is genuinely the most annoying feature of any cold but I have the feeling I won't be so lucky.
And that's about all I have to report for now. These last few days haven't been that exciting - aside from a visit to Tunbridge Wells which is basically a town which combines the poshness of London's West End with the quirkiness of the seaside (just without the sea). Hopefully I'll have good news in the days to come - and shake off this abominable cold!
And that's about all I have to report for now. These last few days haven't been that exciting - aside from a visit to Tunbridge Wells which is basically a town which combines the poshness of London's West End with the quirkiness of the seaside (just without the sea). Hopefully I'll have good news in the days to come - and shake off this abominable cold!
Thursday, 4 October 2018
Three Days of The Week
I knew it'd be a little while before I was able to blog again, what with my work placement at The Week in Queensway, London, so here I am to give you an update.
I was, predictably, quite nervous on my first day: I didn't entirely know what to expect, how difficult it would be, what the people I would be working with would be like. But after I struggled through the crowds of people travelling into the city, I made it and the woman looking after me - Claudia - was rather friendly - though a little quiet. My first task was to search through a small list of websites/online tabloids for any humorous/unbelievable news stories - I'll be damned if I can remember any of them now though. Then it was on to the old work experience favourite: photocopying! Even with help from the other volunteer, it was slow going, and my hands were definitely shaking by lunch time. This I took in a Starbucks across the road, but my nerves seemed to think the solution would be to eat more than my stomach could handle. After most of a salmon bagel and half a piece of chocolate orange marble cake, I had to stop and try to calm myself down before going back. The photocopying and filing of articles into the week's topics (Brexit, Tories, the whale in the Thames, etc.) continued past the time it was supposed to, and it was almost 5pm before we were done (2 hours later than planned!) That was, however, the end of day one and I even got out early, off home with a nervous gut that was still reluctant to take in any food.
Day Two, in spite of the millions of other people going the same way as me, I was reminded that people do this trip every week day: I met a friend on the bus to the station on his way to work in Sevenoaks. When I finally reached my temporary work place, it was back to photocopying for a bit, this time into simpler categories like Health and Science, Bad News, Gossip, etc. This was easier than what was to come, that being fact-checking. Obviously, the news that is written has to be checked to ensure it is factually correct - whoa betide anyone who misquotes a politician or misspells a celebrity's complicated name - but when these facts must be checked against several different sources, it quickly becomes a chore. I decided to stick to an article on the first voyage of Captain Cook which required fact-checking similar to that I did for my uni essays. It was around this time, however, in my stride as I was, that my period decided to start. Now I had come prepared, but not nearly well enough as I later found out. I ended up in a considerable amount of pain on the final train home. But, for the time being, it was a bearable pain, though it didn't help motivate me with my fact-checking. Fortunately, there was another task to complete: phoning estate agents to ascertain the continued availability and price of certain properties that the magazine wanted to showcase. This was surprisingly simple and even slightly enjoyable. Unfortunately, I ended up staying 10 minutes late while relaying my fact-checking to Claudia which meant I missed two of my earliest trains from London Bridge. And on this train was when the pain got worse, so by the time I was home, I had very little appetite - again.
Day Three, however, while being the busiest day getting into London - for some strange reason - was an okay day. Apart from a little bit of photocopying in the morning, it was pretty much all fact-checking for the whole day. By the end of it, I was pretty tired of reading facts about rapists, trans-gender Girl Guides, and the public opinion on Theresa May. My reprieve, as had been my decision for the last two days, was the crossword in the free Metro that I had picked up for those three days which I tried to complete while eating my lunch. Around that, it was a slow day and I found myself checking my watch at regular intervals, glad when I had to nip off the toilet if only to get myself moving. But by the end of the day, it felt strange to realise I was done; the three days had gone, just like that, and I was off home for the final time. I gave my thanks, which were dully returned, found my way swiftly onto each train and bus, and was home in time for dinner by 7pm.
Now, I have another job interview today, another chance to learn some new skills (if I get lucky).
I was, predictably, quite nervous on my first day: I didn't entirely know what to expect, how difficult it would be, what the people I would be working with would be like. But after I struggled through the crowds of people travelling into the city, I made it and the woman looking after me - Claudia - was rather friendly - though a little quiet. My first task was to search through a small list of websites/online tabloids for any humorous/unbelievable news stories - I'll be damned if I can remember any of them now though. Then it was on to the old work experience favourite: photocopying! Even with help from the other volunteer, it was slow going, and my hands were definitely shaking by lunch time. This I took in a Starbucks across the road, but my nerves seemed to think the solution would be to eat more than my stomach could handle. After most of a salmon bagel and half a piece of chocolate orange marble cake, I had to stop and try to calm myself down before going back. The photocopying and filing of articles into the week's topics (Brexit, Tories, the whale in the Thames, etc.) continued past the time it was supposed to, and it was almost 5pm before we were done (2 hours later than planned!) That was, however, the end of day one and I even got out early, off home with a nervous gut that was still reluctant to take in any food.
Day Two, in spite of the millions of other people going the same way as me, I was reminded that people do this trip every week day: I met a friend on the bus to the station on his way to work in Sevenoaks. When I finally reached my temporary work place, it was back to photocopying for a bit, this time into simpler categories like Health and Science, Bad News, Gossip, etc. This was easier than what was to come, that being fact-checking. Obviously, the news that is written has to be checked to ensure it is factually correct - whoa betide anyone who misquotes a politician or misspells a celebrity's complicated name - but when these facts must be checked against several different sources, it quickly becomes a chore. I decided to stick to an article on the first voyage of Captain Cook which required fact-checking similar to that I did for my uni essays. It was around this time, however, in my stride as I was, that my period decided to start. Now I had come prepared, but not nearly well enough as I later found out. I ended up in a considerable amount of pain on the final train home. But, for the time being, it was a bearable pain, though it didn't help motivate me with my fact-checking. Fortunately, there was another task to complete: phoning estate agents to ascertain the continued availability and price of certain properties that the magazine wanted to showcase. This was surprisingly simple and even slightly enjoyable. Unfortunately, I ended up staying 10 minutes late while relaying my fact-checking to Claudia which meant I missed two of my earliest trains from London Bridge. And on this train was when the pain got worse, so by the time I was home, I had very little appetite - again.
Day Three, however, while being the busiest day getting into London - for some strange reason - was an okay day. Apart from a little bit of photocopying in the morning, it was pretty much all fact-checking for the whole day. By the end of it, I was pretty tired of reading facts about rapists, trans-gender Girl Guides, and the public opinion on Theresa May. My reprieve, as had been my decision for the last two days, was the crossword in the free Metro that I had picked up for those three days which I tried to complete while eating my lunch. Around that, it was a slow day and I found myself checking my watch at regular intervals, glad when I had to nip off the toilet if only to get myself moving. But by the end of the day, it felt strange to realise I was done; the three days had gone, just like that, and I was off home for the final time. I gave my thanks, which were dully returned, found my way swiftly onto each train and bus, and was home in time for dinner by 7pm.
Now, I have another job interview today, another chance to learn some new skills (if I get lucky).
Thursday, 27 September 2018
Frisson in Folkestone
I have, perhaps on one or more occasions, extolled the virtues of listening to certain music while travelling. This includes the likes of Angus and Julia Stone, David Bowie, a-ha, George Michael, a real mixture of past-meets-present. And the atmosphere created when the two experiences combine is one of frisson-inducing, zen-like beauty. In case you need me to clarify, 'frisson', generally, refers to a thrilling sensation, but this has also been used to refer to the goosebumps/chills you get when emotionally affected by music. And given how much I love travel, this only makes the journey better, especially when you're a passenger who can simply sit back and enjoy the ride. I mention this because obviously this was my experience for the day while travelling back from the sunny seaside town of Folkestone - my favourite seaside town. It is just so unique and artsy, full of hidden galleries and photogenic alleyways, as well as possessing quite a long high street, perfect for shopping or eating, and an utterly gorgeous stretch of sandy beach and glimmering ocean. Although the real gem was enjoying a classic pub lunch shepherds pie inside a former-church-turned-Wetherspoons, a little off the beaten track.
And speaking of 'off the beaten track', do you ever get that SatNav that seems intent on taking you through every little back road to avoid a few cones on the motorway? There, of course, silver linings to these seemingly random detours, such as passing through several stretches of countryside, tree tunnels, and small villages, all of which pleased my inner countryphile. Thank God I live where I do!
And speaking of 'off the beaten track', do you ever get that SatNav that seems intent on taking you through every little back road to avoid a few cones on the motorway? There, of course, silver linings to these seemingly random detours, such as passing through several stretches of countryside, tree tunnels, and small villages, all of which pleased my inner countryphile. Thank God I live where I do!
Sunday, 23 September 2018
Graduation Pains
I'm a day late in making this post but I was just so shattered after getting back from my travels yesterday that I couldn't bring myself to do it. So here I am to regale you with the highs (and expected lows) of my graduation on Friday September 21st.
The journey down to Plymouth (all 6 or so hours, on and off the road) was relatively incident-free, the roads were clear, the weather was fine, and the food (where necessary) was acceptable. Our main issue was getting into the hotel upon arrival at 10am. Our check in was supposed to be from 2pm but we thought it might be possible to get in earlier (we'd had the same luck at the Premier Inn in Bristol for my sister's graduation). This wasn't quite the case here. And to make matters worse, my dad began stressing when my sister didn't meet us on time. I needn't explain this as we all know someone who is a stickler for punctuality and time management and how they react when plans go awry. But by 12pm we finally managed to get into our rooms and eventually get dressed, made up, and head to the venue.
The sun was shining, though the wind was pretty fierce (to be expected in a coastal location) but the moment I entered the graduation marquee I was simply overwhelmed by the amount of people there, many of whom I didn't even know. Having picked up my tickets, I quickly lost sight of my family, only saved when a friend arrived and offered to hold my things while I went to get my gown and cap on. For those who haven't graduated [yet] or even gone to uni, you will never know how awkward both of these garments are. The cap is either too big - meaning you must constantly correct it - or too small - meaning it pinches your head. Meanwhile, the cape on the gown will continually slip from your shoulders and fall tight across your throat. Hardly the outfit for a dignified event in celebration of your achievements; you're left fighting for composure just like you fought for three years for your degree. Wardrobe malfunctions aside, I eventually located my family, got a few photos taken by both my father and professionally, and could breathe a sigh of relief when my boyfriend and his family arrived. By 3.45pm it was time to enter the graduation hall and take my allocated seat. This required me to endure being sandwiched between my fellow graduates and sat behind my former housemate (and now former friend) who will remain anonymous, but at least I had a decent view of the stage. The ceremony itself was much the same as that which I had witnessed during my sister's graduation in July, except of course I was now the one whose name was being read out. I was the one who had to cross the stage which looked so much wider now I was on it, who had to shake hands with a stranger and focus on not tripping as I made my way to the other side to collect my certificate. Thankfully one of my tutors was there to hand me my degree which felt equally symbolic and comforting. The walk around one side of the hall and back down the aisle to my seat inspired a mixture of pride and self-consciousness but this soon faded back into mild boredom as the list of names and faces became unknown to me. I had given my fair share of applause and hollers to my friends, though I couldn't extend the same treatment to those in Acting or Art History. Only when the ceremony drew to a close, the staff filed down the steps and then proceeded to line up on either of the aisle did I feel the sudden significance and emotion of the moment. I was about to pass between the people who had helped me to where I was, to be in that room, and that thought moved me very nearly to tears. I filed out of that tent with a huge grin, out into the coastal breeze coming off Plymouth Sound, and reluctantly up onto a huge metal stand for a group photo.
When we were finally allowed to return to our families and partake of the free food, my old nemesis, the stomach cramp, decided to make a come back meaning I couldn't eat (though the complimentary glass of Prosecco seemed to ease the storm in my mind). It was as if all the stress I had accumulated over my degree had returned on this one day. This was exacerbated by the meal we had later that night. Greek/Turkish cuisine will always be my favourite, yet the pain in my gut would not allow me to finish more than half the plate. The manager (I assume he was) was a very cheerful fellow (as all Greeks tend to be) and he made the experience that much more bearable, but by the time we left, I was struggling to stay upright, and it was a good 15 minute walk back to the hotel. Somehow I made it, and could do no more than collapse onto my bed and let my dad and sister celebrate in the hotel bar without me. It was certainly not how I imagined the day going - this was my day and I wanted to celebrate with my family. But I will just have to accept that is the way things go. There is plenty of time, when I am fully recovered (my gut is still playing around a little even now), for celebratory drinks, with my father or my boyfriend. And today provided a small silver lining in the shape of a strawberry topped Victoria Sponge baked for me by a neighbour. So it's not all bad.
I hope with my next entry I can provide some more positive news. Until then...
The journey down to Plymouth (all 6 or so hours, on and off the road) was relatively incident-free, the roads were clear, the weather was fine, and the food (where necessary) was acceptable. Our main issue was getting into the hotel upon arrival at 10am. Our check in was supposed to be from 2pm but we thought it might be possible to get in earlier (we'd had the same luck at the Premier Inn in Bristol for my sister's graduation). This wasn't quite the case here. And to make matters worse, my dad began stressing when my sister didn't meet us on time. I needn't explain this as we all know someone who is a stickler for punctuality and time management and how they react when plans go awry. But by 12pm we finally managed to get into our rooms and eventually get dressed, made up, and head to the venue.
The sun was shining, though the wind was pretty fierce (to be expected in a coastal location) but the moment I entered the graduation marquee I was simply overwhelmed by the amount of people there, many of whom I didn't even know. Having picked up my tickets, I quickly lost sight of my family, only saved when a friend arrived and offered to hold my things while I went to get my gown and cap on. For those who haven't graduated [yet] or even gone to uni, you will never know how awkward both of these garments are. The cap is either too big - meaning you must constantly correct it - or too small - meaning it pinches your head. Meanwhile, the cape on the gown will continually slip from your shoulders and fall tight across your throat. Hardly the outfit for a dignified event in celebration of your achievements; you're left fighting for composure just like you fought for three years for your degree. Wardrobe malfunctions aside, I eventually located my family, got a few photos taken by both my father and professionally, and could breathe a sigh of relief when my boyfriend and his family arrived. By 3.45pm it was time to enter the graduation hall and take my allocated seat. This required me to endure being sandwiched between my fellow graduates and sat behind my former housemate (and now former friend) who will remain anonymous, but at least I had a decent view of the stage. The ceremony itself was much the same as that which I had witnessed during my sister's graduation in July, except of course I was now the one whose name was being read out. I was the one who had to cross the stage which looked so much wider now I was on it, who had to shake hands with a stranger and focus on not tripping as I made my way to the other side to collect my certificate. Thankfully one of my tutors was there to hand me my degree which felt equally symbolic and comforting. The walk around one side of the hall and back down the aisle to my seat inspired a mixture of pride and self-consciousness but this soon faded back into mild boredom as the list of names and faces became unknown to me. I had given my fair share of applause and hollers to my friends, though I couldn't extend the same treatment to those in Acting or Art History. Only when the ceremony drew to a close, the staff filed down the steps and then proceeded to line up on either of the aisle did I feel the sudden significance and emotion of the moment. I was about to pass between the people who had helped me to where I was, to be in that room, and that thought moved me very nearly to tears. I filed out of that tent with a huge grin, out into the coastal breeze coming off Plymouth Sound, and reluctantly up onto a huge metal stand for a group photo.
When we were finally allowed to return to our families and partake of the free food, my old nemesis, the stomach cramp, decided to make a come back meaning I couldn't eat (though the complimentary glass of Prosecco seemed to ease the storm in my mind). It was as if all the stress I had accumulated over my degree had returned on this one day. This was exacerbated by the meal we had later that night. Greek/Turkish cuisine will always be my favourite, yet the pain in my gut would not allow me to finish more than half the plate. The manager (I assume he was) was a very cheerful fellow (as all Greeks tend to be) and he made the experience that much more bearable, but by the time we left, I was struggling to stay upright, and it was a good 15 minute walk back to the hotel. Somehow I made it, and could do no more than collapse onto my bed and let my dad and sister celebrate in the hotel bar without me. It was certainly not how I imagined the day going - this was my day and I wanted to celebrate with my family. But I will just have to accept that is the way things go. There is plenty of time, when I am fully recovered (my gut is still playing around a little even now), for celebratory drinks, with my father or my boyfriend. And today provided a small silver lining in the shape of a strawberry topped Victoria Sponge baked for me by a neighbour. So it's not all bad.
I hope with my next entry I can provide some more positive news. Until then...
Thursday, 20 September 2018
Time to Graduate
So, it's the night before my graduation and I'm not sure how I'm feeling about it. Nervous? Yes, because this is partially what the last three years was all leading up to. Excited? That too, because I'm seeing my friends again after nearly 3 months. Stressed? A little, because I need to arrange to meet my sister and my boyfriend's family who are both coming to the event without too much fuss or difficulty. But I know this will be a great day, and I just need to enjoy it whatever happens.
In other news, my dad has bought us a replacement sofa set with one large sofa and one large armchair (which Laura Ashley refer to as a 'snuggler' - how quaint). Hopefully these will arrive (at all) around the time of my birthday in mid-November. Fingers crossed for no more disasters - because I am seriously starting to think my dad is just attracting bad luck given the amount we've experienced these last few months alone.
Anyway, best be preparing for bed because I'm up super early tomorrow to travel down to Plymouth. I'll see you when I'm back!
In other news, my dad has bought us a replacement sofa set with one large sofa and one large armchair (which Laura Ashley refer to as a 'snuggler' - how quaint). Hopefully these will arrive (at all) around the time of my birthday in mid-November. Fingers crossed for no more disasters - because I am seriously starting to think my dad is just attracting bad luck given the amount we've experienced these last few months alone.
Anyway, best be preparing for bed because I'm up super early tomorrow to travel down to Plymouth. I'll see you when I'm back!
Friday, 14 September 2018
Photos, Fish, and Funky Hair
I must apologise, it's been a little while again, but I have been busy so at least I have something to say this time. Wednesday was my day out in London with my boyfriend Jackson and my best friend Eloise. Being the sophisticated chap that he [likes to think he] is - and given that we were in the London borough of Chelsea at the time - we ended up having brunch in The Ivy (of all places)! It was a very tasty and Instagram-worthy spread we had with colourful mocktails and open sandwiches, before launching into a jaunt around the expensive neighbourhoods and parks for some photography. I hope to upload the pictures to my Facebook in the next few days so watch that space if you know me. Around 4pm, we eventually returned to my boyfriend's house to play video games, eat junk food and have a laugh until it got late and we needed to get to our respective homes.
Yesterday was more chilled, helping my dad tidy the garage (as you know we've been doing sporadically these last few weeks) and making a very delicious Jamie Oliver dish: Green Tea Salmon (which you can check out on this link: http://hotcooking.co.uk/recipes/70/jamie-oliver-15-minute-meals-green-tea-salmon) I did, of course, make a slight change in that I didn't have all the necessary ingredients and ended up substituting the coriander sauce in this recipe with a standard coconut milk-based curry sauce. Still tasted - and looked - fabulous (which made me sad, when I was doing the dishes, that I hadn't snapped a quick photo for Instagram).
But anyway, that leads me on to today, and my hair cut. It has been a good while since I last had my hair professionally cut - around May 2016 I believe - so it was both a treat and a nightmare to go back. A treat because who doesn't love it when you get to sit back and have someone massage conditioner into your head? A nightmare because I wasn't particularly good at describing what I wanted to have done, and only the picture of the model whose hair vaguely resembled what I wanted seemed to save me so much fuss. As my stylist was snipping away, I became less and less certain that the asymmetric crop look I had hinted at was what I wanted. Only when the hairdryer was brought to bear on my remarkably straight hair, along with some layering, feathering, straightening, and wax, could I finally see just how much of a miracle worker my new stylist was. Sweeping around from the middle of my right ear to level with my chin on the left, this was a look both experimental and familiar to me. I loved it! Just as I loved my Fino Pitta at the Nandos my dad treated me to afterwards.
So yeah, it's been a good couple of days, my mood hasn't been too bad, and now all I need to do is decide how to form my outfit for graduation a week today and try not to panic.
Yesterday was more chilled, helping my dad tidy the garage (as you know we've been doing sporadically these last few weeks) and making a very delicious Jamie Oliver dish: Green Tea Salmon (which you can check out on this link: http://hotcooking.co.uk/recipes/70/jamie-oliver-15-minute-meals-green-tea-salmon) I did, of course, make a slight change in that I didn't have all the necessary ingredients and ended up substituting the coriander sauce in this recipe with a standard coconut milk-based curry sauce. Still tasted - and looked - fabulous (which made me sad, when I was doing the dishes, that I hadn't snapped a quick photo for Instagram).
But anyway, that leads me on to today, and my hair cut. It has been a good while since I last had my hair professionally cut - around May 2016 I believe - so it was both a treat and a nightmare to go back. A treat because who doesn't love it when you get to sit back and have someone massage conditioner into your head? A nightmare because I wasn't particularly good at describing what I wanted to have done, and only the picture of the model whose hair vaguely resembled what I wanted seemed to save me so much fuss. As my stylist was snipping away, I became less and less certain that the asymmetric crop look I had hinted at was what I wanted. Only when the hairdryer was brought to bear on my remarkably straight hair, along with some layering, feathering, straightening, and wax, could I finally see just how much of a miracle worker my new stylist was. Sweeping around from the middle of my right ear to level with my chin on the left, this was a look both experimental and familiar to me. I loved it! Just as I loved my Fino Pitta at the Nandos my dad treated me to afterwards.
So yeah, it's been a good couple of days, my mood hasn't been too bad, and now all I need to do is decide how to form my outfit for graduation a week today and try not to panic.
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