Working Girl

So I got a new job. No more McDonald's and all the shit. I've moved up from crew member to Catering Assisstant which basically means a 45p pay rise. No more minimum wage. Can you feel the joy? The thing about new jobs is that you get new bullshit to deal with. To some extent I appreciated the McDonald's zero tolerance for bullshit attitude. This new job has me constantly facing off attempts at brain washing; I don't like being told to be enthusiastic, I don't like shouting woohoo and high-fiving. Maybe it's the English in me. I believe that those things come naturally with time and I don't see the need to force it. It's seems to me that Company Speed (the imaginary name of my employers) has adopted a uniquely American brand of business courtesy of companies like Gap and Apple. I don't buy into the crap!

And then there's the baby... not my baby (thank God) but my sister's baby. Cute though she may be, crying is not my idea of fun. All she does is sleep, eat and shit - in that order.

In the end, I can't complain that much, not just because my wallet seems a bit fuller, but because I'm gonna be out of here soon. I leaving on a jet plane, I don't know when I'll be back again...

The Shit has hit the Fan

As if life wasn't crappy enough. We're in a recession/ suffering the effects of it. We hardly have any money and what money we do have goes to pay for the basics. The basics that are too expensive. Basics like bread, eggs and milk. People are having to make decisions about what not to eat in order to heat their homes. And naturally that brings about apathy...I think they call it anomie, at least that's what Durkheim says; events out of our control have deeply impacted us resulting in normlessness. While that is the reality, and it's a cruel reality, it doesn't excuse all the shit that's going on.

On a more positive note, these looters, anarchists and ne'er-do-wells are like the UN of looters, anarchists and ne'er-do-wells. It's a muticultural riot. Tony Blair (aka the devil incarnate) couldn't have wished for more. We've come so far.

Interimission

I feel bad. I've neglected the blog I've come to love so much. And tthere are no proper explanations. I was busy, but I wasn't busy with anything special. In fact it was bloody boring stuff. In between that busy and boring stuff it was easier to not write or think about writing. But now I'm on this ricketty old PC on a Sunday with nothing to do and I get the urge to write. Truth be told I've been thinking about writing for the past couple of weeks except I have no pens in hand when this lightening bolt strikes and so the idea I had about the announcer at Waterloo or the woman with three bags is filed under my things I'll eventually get around to doing list.
What was it I was gonna tell you again...? My life, my impending doom and my constant waiting. Well, all of those things are still going on and I'm okay with that, people (I mean my family) still piss me off but now I'm gainfully employed. Yes that's right, I have an income. Unfortunately, it's an income courtesy of your local fast food restaurant (it rhymes with Ronald's). Normally I'm pretty miserable about it, but then I see my pacheck and little it may be, it's my own.

Open Days and the Evil Monkey in Chris' room

If you've ever watched Family Guy you'd know that Nick Griffin's son, Chris, has this evil monkey living in his closet but nobody believes him. This evil monkey with jagged shark-like teeth always pops out of the closet and point maliciously at Chris.While i don't have a closest or an evil monkey living in that closet, I do have my commitments and every time I enter my bedroom and see them staring back at me maliciously, I think about Chris.

I went to the SOAS open day today. I hadn't slept the night before cos I normally sleep at 6am and I ran the risk of oversleeping if I tried to get a couple hours in. I took the central line to Holburn and changed to the Piccadilly. As soon as I got out, I realised that the map I'd printed of was gonna be useless. I was sleep deprived and kinda blase so I decided to wonder about/ follow any student-like people I saw. Just as I realised that I was going down the wrong street, I encountered a fellow applicant who was just as lost as I was.I think I was unconsciously sending off a 'Help, I'm bloody lost' beacon. She asked how to get to SOAS and I told her that I was wondering the same thing. We wondered about for a minute longer, talking about what courses we'd applied for and our names... the general "How do you do ?" stuff. She was Spanish and applying for Linguistics, other than having SOAS in common we were both totally jaded about religion. We didn't seem to be making any progress so we decided to ask a bystander.

We got there with time to spare and my hair was a mess. There was an introductory lecture in which I found out that SOAS was teaching Twi; maybe I should have applied for that. I think I'd have a better chance of getting in. Luckily for me the Japan and Korea lecture was held in the same room so I didn't have to get lost/ follow student-like people again. I'd give the main event a 3 out of 5. It seemed like they were free-styling it, which wouldn't have bugged me if they weren't reading off directly from the website (Japan more so than Korea). The thing about waiting is you get a lot of time to read. I've read all of the BA Japanese specification including the module specs many, many times. The most interesting thing I found was that even if Korean wasn't my major I could still organise a visit on a 6 week course.

I left after the lectures because I wasn't planning on living away from home and I figured I'd get a proper library tour if I was accepted. I slept on the train home.

I got home around 1:30pm to find that they were showing Only Yesterday, which I kinda love. I fell asleep behind it and woke up around 7pm. Watched Grand Designs, JLC: Turning Japanese and Question Time. The monkey was watching right along with me. I think it's gonna be a long night.

The story so far

So I've been away for a while. I can't really explain it except to say that I didn't feel like it. I recently sat the JLPT N5, which is a proficiency test for Japanese, it's the most basic level. I'm pretty sure I failed. And I know this because throughout my academic years I've learned that when I think I've failed, I've failed and when I think I've passed, I've passed. I can't guess and I can't wing it. It's a curse. My vocabulary was great, because all I do is Kanji. But that's not the problem when it's only a third of the whole test. I'm not that upset because now I know where I need extra help on in my studies, but it cost me 70 quid to figure that out. 

It happened 2 weeks ago but I forgot to write it

We were in the downstairs showroom and by we I mean the Henry VIII and the Sidekick who, according to her, went home early that day to study; not to disappear and never come back. After much observation I realised that her boss, the Brazilian, exaggerates things and anything he says should be taken with a grain of salt. We were trying on clothes, cos that's what you do when there's no supervision and the opportunity arises, and cataloging them when they're boss, the Brazilian, (I feel like I constantly need to say that cos it more sensory, when I say Brazilian you think a Rio de Janeiro - which he hates - and Miss World and tropical temperatures and cocktails and it all just seems so exciting) comes in and it's decided that he needs to try on some 5 inch heels. I'm not at all surprised when he finds a pair of heels that fit or when his buddy, our interim boss, the Dutchman (I'm running out of creative names) decides that he needs accessories so he adds a belt and one of the fake crowns we have lying about, and I'm not surprised to see that the Brazilian's waist is smaller than mine. I'm not surprised at all. In fact I'm laughing my head off. What I am surprised by is the way he struts in those 6 inch heels AND dances in them, like a regular at Stringfellow's I might add. Does the can can and so forth. It's a riot. It was a good afternoon but that was 2 weeks ago.

The Back-up

I had a back-up plan that was pretty air-tight. If I didn't get into the Japanese degree program I would re-do my A'levels just so I met the entry requirements of the course... it was a really solid plan. Nothing goes the way I want it to. I'm thinking about getting a horseshoe, a four-leaf clover, maybe even finding a pot of gold at the end any rainbow. Anything that would give me some luck would be perfect because I feel like the most unlucky person in the world. I can't re-do my A'levels this year because of some moron's bad, bad advice. The thing that bothers me the most is that it's another year I have to spend waiting, I don't want to mature or wait for fate because I don't believe in that shit. I'm mature enough and I'm ready.

You know nothing about people

You'd think that after spending several weeks with some people you'd know them. But I don't. I don't know what about they're families or their journey to get here. I don't know them and I don't make it my business to. I enjoy writing on my blog and a key part of that is to be observant but I find that I care less and less about the people and things going on around me. I'm apathetic about most things right now. Maybe I'm going through one of my depressions, maybe I'm just jaded. I don't know...

Newbies

Interns are plenty, for the showroom alone there are nine. We don't get travel but we can help ourselves to biscuit and diet coke - as long as we don't gorge. I give myself a coke when I've worked particularly hard but I try not to make it a habit, don't wanna be accused of stealing. We do anything and everything ranging for getting tea, coffee, lunch and aiding in general sales. We work in pairs for each brand, I work with a showgirl... at least that's what I'm gonna call her. I know a lot of people that would dislike her, but I'm not one of them. Why? Cos I don't give a shit. We work together and have pleasant conversations. That's it. I don't take her too seriously. I think it's that attribute the makes it easier to live in a place like Japan, which has a  pretty homogeneous population. I'm spectacularly unobservant.

The Players

I got an internship thanks to some much needed nepotism, my CV is quite scarce. The interview was so informal; it seemed more like a formality, really. It took place in one of their offices with my soon-to-be boss, her boss and my sister. When they invited my sister to sit in we both looked at each other with that 'what the fuck expression?'. Thinking back, that look could have been because she was off in la-la land on account of the cold/flu that had been going around the family. She looked like hell that day, so she donned on some sunglasses - thanks to the freakishly warm English summer - and the simplest maxi she could find. I escaped relatively unscathed with a brief cough. It went by really quickly, but that might have been because I was still in shock about my sister sitting in. You see, I had a plan. I had questions to ask and things to tell them. That all went to hell though.

On the first day of work I was introduced to the players, like one of those crime capers where you get a rag-tag team of crude but skillful crooks trying to get their biggest score. There's the Boss Lady; tall and as friendly as you'd expect your boss to be. She has a continental accent but I still haven't been able to figure out her origins. She was lovely at my interview but as a general rule I try not to look her directly in the eye - it's been a habit of mine since primary school to limit eye-contact with persons of authority. The Kooky; she's my boss, she's great, she's funny, she's mad about the World Cup - a person after my heart. As a general rule don't ask her to explain how to do anything, ever - you can see her mind bouncing around like an energised bunny. She's the only one in the office who wears heels, which I have to applaud her for. I only wear heels at home, on my carpet for like 5 minutes at a time (just to show off to my sisters how much smaller my feet are then theirs and why I have inherited mum's vintage shoes instead of them, haha. (A bit off topic, hihi).

The rest of the gang have small but important roles in my education, there's the Jeweller; a fan of all things animal print, he's amusing and a wonderfully eccentric - in his fashion sense - Italian. I worked with him for the first week because Kooky hadn't received her stock. I didn't know that I would love bags and jewels sooooo much but I really, really do; I've been using the same bag for like 4 years, so you can tell how much importance I normally place on accessories. Maria the Nun; outspoken (very much so) and has a wacky dress sense that I can very much appreciate. The Brazilian; an avid fan of my hair, whenever I walk in without the curly fro he shouts in his accent 'Why you not doing your hair?!'. And last but not least the Man; he's really easy going and cordial but there's more to him than meets the eye... but that's for later.

Oh, and a big Fuck You to the Jobcentre ^_^

A Quickie

I'm supposed to be studying know, so this one's gonna be short. My mum's having the kitchen done so we only have the sink and a portable stove at our disposal. The neighbours are playing obscenely crappy loud music again, which wouldn't be a problem if my mother would just give me the landlady's number. She thinks I'm gonna be nasty to her but I'm just gonna be a bitch.

Racist MF

So my mother and I went to sign the papers for our new kitchen, we're in dyer need. We have one of those seriously dated kitchens. I think it's the original kitchen from when she bought in the 80's and that's exactly what the kitchen is, 80's... seriously. It's got this worn, crappy, white gloss facade on MDF. I despise MDF. That's one. The hobs, as far back as I can remember have never worked at full capacity. Out of the four hobs only two have ever worked. And of those two only one emits a full flame. That's two. The grill hasn't worked in ten years and the oven burns anything facing it's parallel heating filaments. Imaging getting a sun tan only on your arms and legs, leaving a white strip of untanned skin. When that happens with your roast chicken you end up with raw chicken in the middle. That's three. I'm not gonna miss that kitchen, in fact, if I could, I would help the builders dismantle it.

We finished signing and paying; I say 'we' but it was really my mother, I was only there for the technical stuff. I wanted to go buy some wool because I'm obsessed with making my own socks right now, so I spilt up with my mum. I was waiting for a bus to take me to the shopping centre, all the while thinking 'It's fucking cold!'. The bus finally came but the bus driver wouldn't open the door, he could see me but he didn't care. Only opening the exit doors instead, it pissed me off. He was thin, like willowy thin. He had dark circles under his eyes, not from lack of sleep though, I think it just some hyper-pigmentation thing. His hair was shaved pretty low. I gave him a couple of seconds and then knocked on the door.

Me: "You gonna open the doors?"

He didn't say anything, but instead did a hand gesture I didn't understand. I looked ahead and noticed that the bus in front was changing drivers so I figured that was what he was waiting for. He started to move, getting ready to change shifts. I looked behind to see a female driver ready to take over. He opened the doors and stepped out.

Me: "You couldn't have opened the doors to tell me that?!" You're in public service, you're supposed to be courteous.

Racist MotherFucker: "$%?£?$!!!" 

Me: "$%£^&%!!!" What the fuck's wrong with you? Psycho!!!

We carried on like that swearing back and forth for a few more seconds then an older black gentleman came and told the Racist MF not to talk to me like that, but the Racist MF just directed his attention and misguided anger at him instead. Then as he walked away he said:

Racist MF: "You're like the colour of my shit."

Now if that isn't racist I don't know what is. If he'd just said 'you're shit', that would have been different because only he would know what he truly meant by that. But he said the colour of my shit. The funny thing is that the Racist MF was Asian, ie. Indian, Pakistani etc. I am very aware of the country I live in. I am very aware that I'm a minority and that's the first time I've ever seen overt racism. What he doesn't realise is that together we make up 7.9% of the total population. This isn't his country. He's viewed with the same contempt I am. What a piece of shit. No fucking respect. I filled out a complaints form and I hope his racist arse gets what's coming to him.

Ice Age... that's what they tell me

We had some bad weather after Christmas. Seeing as I'm a bit of a recluse I didn't notice. They were droning on and on about it on BBC and SKY though. There were stories, lots of stories about the injuries and disruptions associated with the snow. Stories about the villages cut off, but surprisingly none about the abundance of the supposedly scarce grit on Oxford Circus and the Kensington area. We can't have the rich slipping and spraining an ankle or worse yet cracking a skull. Oh no, the working class, without which the city would not run, would fair better doing the slip-slide all the way to work... in the city.

Personally, the funniest moment for me was when they realised that public transport would be shittier than usual as a result. This from a city who's trains can't function during Autumn because of leaves on the tracks. Oh yes, London's that far ahead. London's the city of the future, didn't you know? There's always this crap about attracting international businesses to London because it's this and it's that. Well I'm here to tell you that it's overpriced... normally you'd have more than one critique of whatever you're hating on, but for me this is it. It's overpriced. It's bollocks. And it's on it's way to worse, why? Because the recession hurt the UK more than the US, because the US manufacture and there's always gonna be a demand and because our un-elected Prime Minister is a ditherer. James Brown (the name he keeps secret from anyone with a sense of humour) can't make decisions, so why is he in politics? I don't know either.

My whole point is forget about the snow, there's a huge economic storm to weather and we (in London) are gonna feel it in full force after the 2012 Olympics. Maybe that's why I'm so eager to get out of here.

Q. Does anyone like the Logo?

New Moon and Roger Federer!!!

So I went to the O2 arena, formerly the disaster known as the Millennium dome, with my friend Steph. I dragged her along, willingly, to watch the second installment of the Twilight Saga: New Moon at the Vue cinema. I like to watch a new film the week after its release, and preferably on a weekday if it's a child friendly film (they tend to ruin it for me).

The film was OK. I mean Robert Pattinson was great as Edward, it was like reading the book. Taylor Lautner was better than I thought he'd be, but I worry about his longevity in the movie business. He seems pretty one dimensional to me, that's okay for life in general but not for Hollywood. Personally I like Kristen Stewart, I'm not one of the stupid, hormone-ridden fans who hate her purely because she gets to play Edward's love interest and may be the real life love interest of Robert Pattinson. Most of these kids won't or can't make the distinction between the character and the actor. I appreciate her because I hardly know anything about her. That's the type of relationship I want with, specifically, the up 'n' coming celebrities. The problem is I don't think she plays Bella effectively, she just doesn't do sad that well. She does awkward, teen angst great but that's about it.

We were discussing the film as we left the cinema, when Steph dealt me a huge blow by telling me that she would've picked Jacob. After the initial nausea I thought, who am I to try to convert or judge her icky tastes. I won't hold it against her... much. We decided to explore the O2, the great thing about that place is that you never have to worry about getting lost. It's a circle so you always end up where you started.

The O2 was also hosting the ATP Master's end of year tournament with the world's top 8 players. They battle it out through 2 rounds: first is the Round Robin; were the play against every member of that group, the two best out of the group proceed to the next stage. Second is the Knock-out stage; they play to the death (not really), they play the best of 3 sets, only if you lose this time you're out for good. We stumbled upon a tennis court and we (I) decided to hang around for a bit. First I saw Roger Federer's father, then his mother. I knew they wouldn't be out there for any old reason, so we lingered around a bit longer. Steph was getting restless but around 3 o'clock he finally came out. It was great, it made my day. I wish he'd been practising with Rafael Nadal. That would've made my year.