Thursday, November 30, 2006

Bad Hair Day

You know when your working day starts in darkness with the bus being late and ends in darkness with the bus being late, that a hug and a glass of something alcoholic is called for to help deal with the trauma of the bits in the middle. Thankfully, I got both.

To those people who perpetrated the poisoning against the Russian Spy ~ I curse you with that most ancient and dangerous of curses: may the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits and genital areas. I hope it rots and drops off.

I go into work with feint hopes that all will be well. Yeah right. Three BA planes grounded, potentially 36,000 people advised by BA to get in touch with us for further information. *sigh*. The only problem was, our callers knew more about what was going on because they could watch the news and could catch the hourly updates. BA had completely forgotten to tell NHSD that they were palming off their customers onto us and guess what? We didn't know what was going on and there were no procedures to handle yet more enquiries, and no extra staff to deal with them either. And boy, were their customers a right stroppy bunch.

Tomorrow, I've got to do it all again. I keep telling myself it could be worse. I could be selling insurance.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Celebrate Good Times

I am seriously bloated. Boy and I have just come home from a meal at the Lucky Star, a local Chinese restaurant that offers buffet meals - all you can eat, for not a lot of money. As I was sipping on my 4th cup of Chinese tea, Northern Monkey's Other Half's quest to find a decent Chinese meal flashed through my mind. So I thought I would do a restaurant review of our meal.

I have had squid in England and in Turkey. I've had it stir fried, battered in rings and now tonight, done with onion and chillies. I've been told that squid when it's fresh and flash cooked is a joy to behold. Tonight, I came to the conclusion that it's all bollocks really. I will now stop giving it the benefit of the doubt. Squid is a bit like chicken cartilage, chewy and tasteless.

Crispy seaweed. Tell me again ~ why? Its like deep fried cabbage. With a slight sweet tang. Nothing to write home about.

I'm really nosey about what people chose to eat and in what order. Think about it, you've got 3 different buffets ~ starters, mains and deserts. If you can help yourself to anything, you could be really inventive about the order of your meal. Start off with fruit, a bit of icecream and then beef in black bean sauce, prawn toast and crackers. Why not? Why do we always do the 'right' thing?

I also love watching people fill up their plates. It's like watching an artist preparing an installation, the care with which each type of meal is arranged into a huge food mountain the EU would be jealous of. I get to the point where I'm betting on the mini-vegetable spring roll that will exceed the critical mass and send the food spilling everywhere. Sweet and sour chicken balls being chased across the floor by the breaded crab claws.

Seriously, for parents wanting to eat out with their little darlings, I'd definitely recommend eating at Chinese restaurants. Culturally, they love kids, they expect them to run around and get in the way and be noisy. They don't give you pointed looks, get you extra napkins for the finger food and they'll sneak the kids treats when they think you aren't looking. I'm sure Boy has half a hundredweight of mints in his coat pocket.

We had a good time tonight. OMG am I full!

Monday, November 27, 2006

SSSsssccccrrrrrreeeeeeeee!!!!

[The sound my nails make as I slip off my learning curve]

I have had a whopper of a bad day. Not helped by the continuing farce that is the radiation scare. Needless to say when I went in today, there was yet another way of processing the calls. Unrelated, tonight I went back in to work to get some training on the ugrades they will be making to the system. It is good how the system is organic and adjusts to meet the needs of the callers, but damn I'm tired.

I've just finished wrapping the first of Boy's pressies. A little something special for him. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow. I still find it so hard to believe that my bump turned into him. I was at a friend's birthday do which consisted of young trendies who were very down on the whole parenthood thing. They spent a lot of time coming up with witty ways to put parenting and children down. Afterwards, I realised how awkward I found the scathing humour. I love being mum to Boy. He is seriously wonderful and I am potty about him.

Hmmm....there should be a punchline with that thought, but it's late, I've had a glass of something naughty and I think I can hear my bed calling. Coming!

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Sunday Shenanigans

I just called it that to make you think I've been up to stuff. Sorry. I've been writing and working and now thinking about the ever-present laundry. I just might do it too.

Work was okay. Apart from the face that everyone in London seems to think they've been poisoned. Some idiot thought it would be a really good idea to bandy NHS Direct's number about on Friday. Please don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that using NHSD as the signposting agency for public health concern is wrong, far from it. I am saying that it's been 3 weeks since the poor Russian spy got poisoned. Wait until Monday before releasing our name and number, use that time to properly decide how to best process the calls and train staff in the new procedure. Don't do it Friday, knowing that the weekend is the busiest time, don't call in extra staff, don't dither about the procedure and change it 3 times during an 8 hour shift. Piss-up and brewery, the last words I shall say on the subject.

Apart from that, I've been preparing for Boy's birthday on Tuesday. He's going to be a teenager and I'm getting a bit excited about it. I'm going to be a mother of a teenager! Speaking of which, I'd better stash the goodies before he gets back.

Friday, November 24, 2006

Best Laid Plans

Today, I was going to get up early and head out with my camera. Instead, I saw boy off to school and went back to bed for another couple of hours. I then pottered round the internet for the rest of the morning. I didn't really feel like going off into the cold and damp, bus or no bus. So I put on Chocolat. A fabulous film, I laughed and cried my way through it. After the credits I had a line running round my head so I sat at my desk and wrote it out. I didn't stop writing until boy came home to get changed before he went off to the coast to see his dad and family.

He had his grandad and his grandad's new Love Interest in tow. She was lovely and I have to say I heartily approve. She is obviously very fond of him and vice versa. Certainly from the conversation it was clear that she has been introduced to the rest of the family. I still miss boy's nana, she was quite a woman. It's been 4 years now and I know she is not forgotten, but happiness does not have a timetable. I think he's a lucky man and I hope they continue have fun together. I quite like the idea of naughtiness late in life. Boy seemed quite comfortable with with her and he's a good judge of character.

After they left, I returned to the keyboard and only stopped to get some fish and chips and to watch Chocolat again. Unlike Dianne, I can watch films over and over again in quick succession. I then returned to my keyboard and now after 4,458 words my brain is fried. I have about another 1,000 words to go and then my story is done. Hopefully, that will be my prose submission for my degree done. Well, the first draft anyway. I'm not even finished and I already have marked out passages to be changed.

When I popped into the fish and chip shop, the owner gave me the once over and announced how pleased she was that I didn't look so tired. Bet she won't say that next week. I have five shifts waiting for me over the next week, starting tomorrow.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Sucker Part Deux!

After having complained of being behind in my college work and being knackered, I arranged to drop 2 shifts over the last fortnight. So what do I do when an ex-boss at the alternative healthcare clinic rings me up desperate for a receptionist today? I go in. I'm not very bright am I?

Having said that, it's an easy job. I answer the phone, take money, talk to clients. In between that I can write and study as much as I want. I realised it's the first time I had solidly sitting in front of a desk with just pen and paper. It gave me the space to collect my scattered thoughts and formulate a plan of action. Not only that, but I also had a massage.

One day I will become a qualified aromatherapist. A proper one. Not to make money, but purely for the joy of massage. Massage is wonderful to give and fabulous to receive. With all those yummy essential oils it is the best way to spend an hour. When I'm rich and famous I am going to have a massage every week. I lurve it. Anyway, there was a practitioner who specialises in remedial massage. I didn't really take much notice of the word before the interesting bit, I was too busy salivating. So I troop up for my 45 mins of luxury, I was thinking how fabulous I would feel after. Yeah. Remedial means painful. As in she found all of the knots in and under my shoulder blades pummelled and pressed each one until they gave up and slunk away. She said there were two things wrong with my shoulders. Firstly, they should not be on the same level as my ears. Secondly, they aren't supposed to be covering up my boobs. Quite.

So I'm sat here with very sore neck and shoulders trying to decide what I'm going to do tomorrow. I've been very naughty and with the money my Pops has given me as an early Christmas present I bought a digital camera and bits. I've been stroking it all evening. It's only a cheap one, but it's mine bwahahahaha....all mine....

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Sucker!

I was checking out Gertie's website (link to be added shortly). She had done an online personality test and I was curious. Now I am a huge fan of Pop Psychology. I love the straightforwardness, the rationality and the simplicity of it. I think Dr Phil is great, I love the way he can sort out a person in a few short pithy sentences and bring about complete change.

Unfortunately, I don't believe in it. It's a bit like the FGP, I'd love to believe in one, but it aint never gonna happen. Life is never straightforward, situations and people do not fit neatly into boxes. But it doesn't stop me being fascinated by it. Anyway I did a test. These are my results:

The Asserter

you chose AY - your Enneagram type is EIGHT.
"I must be strong"
Asserters are direct, self-reliant, self-confident, and protective.

How to Get Along with Me
*Stand up for yourself... and me.
*Be confident, strong, and direct.
*Don't gossip about me or betray my trust.
*Be vulnerable and share your feelings. See and acknowledge my tender, vulnerable side.
*Give me space to be alone.
*Acknowledge the contributions I make, but don't flatter me.
*I often speak in an assertive way. Don't automatically assume it's a personal attack.
*When I scream, curse, and stomp around, try to remember that's just the way I am.

What I Like About Being a Eight
*being independent and self-reliant
*being able to take charge and meet challenges head on
*being courageous, straightforward, and honest
*getting all the enjoyment I can out of life
*supporting, empowering, and protecting those close to me
*upholding just causes

What's Hard About Being a Eight
*overwhelming people with my bluntness; scaring them away when I don't intend to
*being restless and impatient with others' incompetence
*sticking my neck out for people and receiving no appreciation for it
*never forgetting injuries or injustices
*putting too much pressure on myself
*getting high blood pressure when people don't obey the rules or when things don't go right

Eights as Children Often
*are independent; have an inner strength and a fighting spirit
*are sometimes loners
*seize control so they won't be controlled
*fugure out others' weaknesses
*attack verbally or physically when provoked
*take charge in the family because they perceive themselves as the strongest, or grow up in difficult or abusive surroundings

Eights as Parents
*are often loyal, caring, involved, and devoted
*are sometimes overprotective
*can be demanding, controlling, and rigid

The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Testhttp://www.okcupid.com/tests/taketestid=6711512663497470889

Unfortunately, doing the test has meant that I've been signed up for OkCupid. *sigh*

Monday, November 20, 2006

Dear Fairy Godperson

Please will wave a magic wand and enable me to get a First, so I can get funding to do an MA in Fine Art. Would you also make it possible that I get accepted onto a course in an art college in London, which will also provide me and Boy with accommodation. I would really appreciate it if you could also provide me with the wherewithal so that I can live and work in London. Hope it's not too much trouble. Thanks very much.

***
What do you think? Do I stand a chance? I didn't think so either, but it will be worth my while having a look at establishments in the capital and exploring the idea of doing the MA part-time. I'm not convinced London is a possibility and I'm not going to get hung up on the idea at the moment. The important thing is that I find the best place to study and that may very well be in the art college here. There is also a great deal of comfort to be had from the Devil you know.

I have started telling people this is what I'd like to do and surprisingly they haven't called the men in white coats yet. In fact, the contrary. They have been very supportive. I still feel like I'm bonkers, but I'm getting used to the change in direction. I do know I want to do the degree part-time, to really give myself a chance to 'experience' the full creative process.

Those of you beginning to worry, please be reassured. I have actually started on my dissertation and have nearly completed my first tranche of notes to be discussed with my Super. This morning over coffee and a chat I was able to talk about some of my ideas for my prose submission and I feel like I've got a better idea about what I'm going to be writing about. I think I'll write several pieces and chose the best one at the end. I'm going to experiment and just have a play with my ideas, something will come through.

Early night tonight. Work tomorrow. Deep joy.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Hangover Cures

Gertie the Frog came over last night and we had a lovely bottle of red, which is now a dim memory. One of the things I learnt last night is that you should only pour Baileys into clean glasses. Pouring it into a glass that previously held red wine makes it curdle. Trust me, it's not nice. Really.

The plan last night was to watch DVDs and loads of them, we drank wine, chatted about work and moaned about callers, ate pizza, drank more wine, chatted about men. Drank more wine, chatted about families. Did lots of hugging and squeaking when her parents text her to say her sister had her baby. It was a lovely evening.

Not so lovely feeling this morning. Especially when Boy announces we have to go into town to get a present for the birthday party he was invited to this afternoon. The Xmas shopping bonanza has started. Cheerful shoppers, smilling happily with their gifts, laughing at their kid's jokes, clearly enjoying the feeling of warmth and togetherness - not. I was so glad to get home. This evening has been relaxed, friends popped round with posh bickies and a bottle of wine, it was so good to catch up with them.

I'm going to let you into a little secret. I've been looking at MAs in Fine Art. I think I want to be an artist. Oh dear Goddess, did I say that out loud? I will always write, one way or another, but I don't get up in the morning thinking 'I've got to write this down'. When you talk to writers, or listen to them being interviewed, it's an obsession with them. I'm not obsessed by writing, but I am obsessed by my Creative Practice. When I was so low in the summer, it was that which kept me going. Yes, I know. This way lies madness. I have no idea how I'm going to do it, or pay for it, but something will work out. If it's meant to be, it'll happen.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Scent of Earl Grey

Today, I had a rubbish day at work. One of the things I'm discovering about working for NHSD, is that nothing ever happens by halves. It was a really rubbish day. As in I started work at 7 am and by 8 am I had my first expected death. Expected deaths are what they say on the tin. It was an elderly person with a terminal illness, whose relatives respected her wish to let her die at home. I heard the grief in his tightly controlled voice and I couldn't type, I couldn't think.

The best part of today was coming home, getting changed and chatting to new friends on-line. Virtual friends, but friends all the same. We talked about stuff and lots of it. Tomorrow, I'll work on my dissertation and prose and then the weekend and more friends, this time in the real world. I might have had a shite day, but I've had a lovely evening. I can't help but feel that yes, life might not be quite going according to plan, but it's all good.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Touching Base

I am still alive! Not only that, my butt is un-kicked! My meeting with my Super went really well. In a matter of minutes he identified why and where I was getting stuck. I'd been going about things arse about face. He's basically told me to start with my text The Motorcycle Diaries and build my conceptual framework around it, rather than do it the other way round.

I must admit, had it not been for my Super, I'd have come home and stuck my head in the oven [fat lot of good that would do me - it's electric]. I had a prose tutorial and the work I did yesterday got shredded. Which was bad enough, except my work at the beginning of term was also shredded and I'm running out of resilience. I am usually okay about having my work critiqued, but this term, my writing has been rubbish and whatever I try, it's still mediocre. Sigh.

At least I'm able to say that I'm catching up with my workload. I now have 5 poems (drafts), my Creative Practice is going really well, I have an idea to work with for prose. So things are looking up. Really. It just doesn't feel like it at the moment.

Monday, November 13, 2006

The Ladies Like Armour Plating

"Thanks for the tank. He [Master Chief], never buys me anything." Cortana.
"Oh I know what the ladies like." Sergeant Johnson.

I have been converted to Halo 2. Don't anyone start to fret too much. I do the level called 'Metropolis' and it starts off with that gag. It then descends into the mayhem of me in a tank shooting the crap out of anything that moves (as Boy has found to his cost). I love the fact that all the characters have these wonderful lines. Further on into the level, one of the marines is panicking and he gets told: "Marine, did I give you permission to bitch?"

How sad am I?

Not at all actually. I had my first call review today. Which meant my lovely supervisor listened in on two of my live calls and one recorded one. The recorded one I chose. I chose my lovely gentleman from the early hours of Sunday evening. Halfway through the 11 min call she turned around and said I ought to have a medal, for being so polite and unflappable in the face of his obstructive and stroppy behaviour. I basked. Her only criticism was that after 5 minutes I should have called my Site Lead and got a nurse to take the call off my hands. Not too bad then. I'm really pleased. The review has done wonders for my confidence as I can see the progress I've made.

Now all I need to do is make some progress with my college work and I really will be smoking.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

RVB Episode 62: Lost In Triangulation

This is for Ing...enjoy!

Captain Caffeine

I have survived my first twilight shift. Just. You might be wondering about the title (I am also, but just work with me with this for a moment). The first part of the evening was slow, mostly with 'interesting' calls. Calls that didn't seem to quite go according to plan. Then I had my first break at 21.30 and my first cup of coffee. At some time or other, I am bound to have mentioned that I'm very careful with my favourite vice. I make sure that I don't have more than 3 cups of coffee a day, and never after 14.00; otherwise I turn into Manic Bunny, and that is not a pleasant experience, for me, or for those unfortunate enough to be near me. That first coffee was lovely; it bucked me up no end. At my second break at 23.00, I thought it was a great idea to have another one. I was positively smoking after that. By about 1am the shakes had started and so did the awkward calls. The calls made by muppets. People who needed me to ring them back on their mobile phones and then left the phone off.

My penultimate call was from a gentleman who was prepared to argue that the grass was blue and that I was being a right bitch for asking him all these stupid questions. Normally, any hint of confrontation and my flight response kicks in. I'm not into emotional arguments at all. I'm a wreck, if I get told off or make a mistake. Not tonight though. I was assertive, I told him off, I took no shite. What I'm really proud about is that I managed to process the call and get him through to the nurse who was sat beside me. Normally, I'd be quaking and doing a runner. Given the trouble he was causing me I could have hung up on him. Oh no. Not me Captain Caffeine! I sorted it and I was polite, if firm.

The downside of this. Well, lets see. It's gone 2.30 am and I'm still buzzing. I did manage to put my head down this afternoon, but I am knackered. Knackered and buzzing is not a good combination. I think I'll be doing quite a bit of surfing for a while yet.

There's no one else to talk to. Everyone else is in bed. :-(

Saturday, November 11, 2006

For Remembrance

For my friends who serve.

The Day Ahead

Today, my boy is off to a costume party with his dad. Just as well, because I am doing my first twilight shift. I troop along to work for 6.00 pm and finish at 2.00 (am). I am a tad worried about doing the late shift because 1) it'll be my first late weekend shift and the day shifts weren't fun and 2) I've been going to bed at 9.30 all week. I suspect once I'm actually at work and taking calls, I'll be so focused on my job, I won't be worrying about the time, or have the time to feel tired.

I actually started working on my dissertation yesterday and hope to do some more today, after boy goes off. Tomorrow, I suspect will be a write-off, but I've got until Tuesday to do the 1,500 word proposal. Wish me luck.

While I was getting my daily web-fix, Northern Monkey raised a very interesting question - how much does the Internet play in peoples' daily lives. Taking that a step further, I would ask 'how much is too much or too little?'

Friday, November 10, 2006

PS

A candidate for the Darwin Awards....

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/wear/6132140.stm

In which reality did he think this was a good idea?

Waving

This week I've had to come to the rather disappointing conclusion that I am not Superwoman. My tutors have given me 'that look' along with 'that lecture' and consequently I've had to have a quiet re-think about my work-life balance. I am just knackered, the flat is a tip, boy and I haven't had a 'proper' meal in ages. A fabulous colleague is going to pick up one of my shifts next Saturday and I've asked a student I know to come blitz my flat every week.

Today, I am not working, so I'm in my jammies, catching up on the blogging world I've missed out on all week. Later I'll be trouping down to the college library to pay my fines and borrow some more books. The task for today is: dissertation proposal. Nothing else. If it takes me all day, so be it.

Meanwhile, this morning we had our first proper frost of the Winter. It was amazing, white crystals sparkling in the dawn. I have to confesss that I've had my standard winter gear on for quite awhile now. Thick 60 dernier tights, woolly black socks, black thermal long-sleeved vest. Given that I must look drop-dead gorgeous in these deeply sexy undergarments, I am surprised that I'm still single.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

100th Post!

To celebrate I thought I would share one of my pickies with you. It's part of the University in the pouring rain. It is unenhanced. I love the camera that I've borrowed. It's FujiFinePix and it'll take 9m pixles!

My butt is getting well and truly kicked and I am panicking. I have no idea how I'm going to work and produce this wretched dissertation and keep my household going and still keep my boy happy. Work is still fun, but I come home knackered and grumpy. I resorted to takeaway last night, having missed the 18.11 bus. I had to wait half an hour in the cold for the next one. After about 10 mins I was joined at the stop by a woman in a white woolly hat, lugging a pet carrier.

Things to do While Waiting at a Bus Stop.

  • sing/ mutter along with MP3 player, even if it means admitting that you like cheesey music

  • flex and rotate hips

  • try not to stare at the woman who is singing along in her KA stopped opposite

  • rotate ankles in time with Donna Summer

  • stare into oncoming traffic

  • practise footwork for body jabs

  • smile at woman with pet carrier

Is it any wonder that the woman with the pet carrier stayed as far away from me? Anyone would think I'm a bit odd.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Flash, Bang, Whizz

For the last three days Norwich nights have been filled with a variety of those sounds. Mostly I'm not bothered, except for the ones that go off at 2.30 am and wake me up hyperventillating. Last night, I was in bed, cuddling up to my pillows at 8.30pm nodding off to the sounds of fireworks. I remember waking up at about 3.00am thinking 'gosh, it's awfully quiet'.

Work today was not fun. It felt like I had everyones share of stroppy and narked callers. But the good thing was I came home. I'm turning into such a homebody. I love my home, it might be dusty, filled with dirty dishes and the corpses of thousands of dead fleas - but it's mine.

I caught the Number 28 bus back into Norwich and there I endured Clash of the Ring Tones. Two blonde, chav teenagers were at war with two dark haired chav lads. They decided to play the most annoying ring tones at full volume. The only good thing about that experience was that neither group had anything vaguely connected with the Crazy Frog, or I would have lost it completely. I got off the bus as soon as I could and stalked home. The walk did me good. And the cat opened one eye in greeting.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Waiting for the Weekend

I haven't been home long and already I want to crawl into bed. I am not cut out for earlies. Mind you, I'm not cut out for lates either. But one thing has to be said for doing earlies, the time at work seems to whizz by. I've also got into the habit of having late breaks and lunches as it makes the time go even faster.

Today's calls had a theme. Let me share. They went along the lines of...

"I've had really bad toothache/vomiting and diahorrea/chest infection/bleeding from various parts of the body since Monday."

"What do you mean you can't find me an emergency dentist/doctor/gynaecologist/proctologist, today?"

I know. It's so selfish of the dentists/doctors etc to want to have the weekend with their families, catching up with their friends.

On the other side there are the other types of caller: they tend to be elderly and don't really want to make a fuss. Just because they have crushing chest pain, can't draw breath to finish two words, please don't send an ambulance. Ambulances are for desperately ill people, and it's only a little heart attack. No need to bother the nice young men/women.

One thing is for certain, working with the British public is anything but boring.

Oh. Changing the subject, ing and I were hanging out in MSN last night and he asked me about Hottie and our relationship. Apparently, I confused him because I refer to Hottie as Hottie and said she has sexy jammies. I know I don't need to, but I will explain.

Women, especially if they're on their own, tend not to receive compliments, or have many opportunities to flirt. Compliments and flirting are necessary for one's ego, makes a woman feel special; it doesn't actually matter if there is or isn't substance behind it. I have a large group of female friends and we all compliment and flirt together. Because, let's face it ~ it's not like a bloke is going to notice if you've had your hair done, or bought fabulous new sparkly eye shadow.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Friday Feeling

Hottie says I've corrupted her, a bit rich considering she descended upon us bearing the Colonel's finest and Banrock Sparkling Red (yummy and kind to the environment). We caught up on all the news and latest gossip and in the midst of this she let slip that she had never seen Dirty Dancing! The horror! It was immediately rectified. Boy stalked off to his computer in disgust while she and I lusted over Patrick Swayze as he gyrated and looked moody. However, boy refused to go to bed until the dance finale and very kindly handed out tissues to the two of us saps.

My corrupting influence did not stop there. Oh no. Please note the new link on the side bar. I'm such a bad person. Hottie paid me back though. This morning when I surfaced I wandered into the kitchen, and there she was in her sexy jammies doing 3 days worth of dishes to the Beach Boys. Slightly disconcerting considering it wasn't even 7 am.

Right, I'm off to get dressed and face the day. I'm on earlies over the weekend and Monday, so I'm not promising that I'll be about. I'm not sure what it is about starting my day at 5.30 that fries my brain but I'm not able to do much else. Oh yeah, it's starting at 5.30.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Chill Out Moods

I downloaded some Chill Out music (and some BENT~lovely) and as I sit blogging I'm listening to the laid back tracks, while my boy drives his Warthog over Grunts on Halo II. We are waiting for Hottie to decend upon us. She has promised KFC and sparkling red velvet. What can I say my two most favouritist things in the whole wide world and her and boy. I am a happy, happy bunny.

My tutorial went well this morning. My Creative Practice tutor likes the pictures I took, I've just got to take loads and loads more. My CP tutor had leant me a video on artist Sophie Calle. I was blown away by her work with Paul Auster and now have two of his books, the New York Trilogy and Leviathan on my bookshelf waiting for 5 minutes to read. I love the blurring of boundaries between art and life, fact and fiction. The energy created is so colourful; it makes me think of a painter's pallette and the picture that is created. I can get ridiculously excited about the weirdest things.

I've decided to postpone my novel for the moment. Instead I will be working on a fictionalisation of my journeying on the buses. Watch those boundaries turn baby blue. My project is beginning to encompass three aspects of my degree now, the only part it has left untouched is my poetry. And I suspect it won't be long before that gets pulled in. I think I'm becoming a little bit obsessed.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Trick or Treat?

Did you spend last night dishing out sweets to little vampires and ghouls? I didn't. It was throwing it down here, I think the only thing out and about last night was the undines and they don't like sweet things.

I got my butt well and truly kicked on Monday by my tutors. I've got 2 months to prepare my Creative Practice, Poetry, Prose and Dissertation - help! I'm a procrastinator - get me out of here. The good news is I have a digital camera and it's nice and shiny. So, I'll be out and about taking pictures a bit later on. I hope to get some photos uploaded later on in the week, but I won't promise in case it all goes horribly wrong.

Yesterday, was Child Protection Training. NHSD gets a significant proportion of calls about and by children, and the service is committed to protecting children. I must admit, I was horrified by the statistics that were given to us, especially considering that it's likely to be the tip of the iceberg. If you have a chance, have a look at this. When people think about child abuse, the focus tends to be around sexual abuse. Apparently, this is on the decrease, but the other types of abuse: emotional, physical and neglect are on the increase. One to two children die a week in England and Wales because of abuse. When I think about statistics, i think 'ah, these are just numbers'. Actually, they are not, they have names: Victoria, James, Jenny, Peter...

Sorry, I didn't mean to come all heavy handed and righteous on you. Look, it's safe, I've put my soap-box away.