It would be all too easy to get down in the dumps – as yet no job interviews, the room I had my heart set on won’t be mine as i’m the dirty unemployed, i have to be precious with the pounds and realistic that i may, indeed, at some point, have to give up and go home.
But I got to spend the weekend doing some of my favourite things with some of my favourite people.
Friday night was spent watching Pretty Woman..
Saturday Duncan and I wandered around central London, to Buckingham Palace, to watch a few protestors, to the Tate Britain, and then I stood in the rain on Regent Street drinking coffee and people watching.
That night a bunch of us went out to a friend’s place in Shepherd’s Bush for her birthday dinner – and watched Conrad get a try! yusss! before heading out to a dirty pub in Acton. I’d been told it was like Flashbacks in the Hutt, so wasn’t expecting much. Instead of Flashbacks, I got the equivalent of a sixth form dance at St Pat’s Stream. Eventually I gave up getting irritated at the crush of people, and the amount of beer spilt on me as people edged past, and had a good old time.
Somewhere around 4am everyone was at Karl’s, and there was nowhere for a tired girl to sleep – all the chivalrous boys had claimed the couches. Sigh. So Karl and I spent the next three hours drinking in the kitchen and talking, just like we used to, until the sun came up and i stepped out into the early morning and caught a bus home to sleep.
About 6pm sunday, watching Harry Potter, hibernating under my sleeping bag, nibbling on Laura’s amazing homemade pesto, i decided i’m a long way from giving up.
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What did I think of the Tate Britain? oh, um…it was ok, i suppose. It starts with the Pre-Raphaelites, with some Edward Burne-Jones, which kick off my memories of that paper…but it isn’t my favourite period. Millais’ Ophelia was probably my fave, and the room of Tudor portraits. Didn’t spend much time looking at the Turner and Rothko room as we were pretty tired by then. Next on the list: the Victoria and Albert Museum to see all the textiles…
Tash: will work for yarn
Socktapus, in Fulham (round the corner from the Chelsea Football Ground) is full of yummy scrummy yarn, and a wee dog named deuce. Oh, and Alice, who i’m going to help out for a couple days a week and she shall be paying me…in yarn.
I’m rather excited.
swings, and roundabouts
I’m not particularly patient at the best of times. And having to wait…and wait…and wait…to get a job is a bit trying.
Trying for some positive action today, i went out on a limb and emailed a bunch of yarn stores here in London – and introduced myself as the currently unemployed Knitsch of OutdoorKnit. Tomorrow, i’m going to meet the lady who runs Socktopus in the SW somewhere. yay!
And there is lots of background work going on for exciting OutdoorKnit-related press that i won’t mention on that blog until it’s all confirmed. Which means i better get writing, really.
Defining Dublin
As my brain is attempting to exit my head through my nose, bullet points are in order:
- Matching two piece tracksuits are the next big thing in Irish fashion. I imagine adidas shall be laughing all the way
- Ireland is, indeed, green, however good luck finding somewhere in Dublin that will let you sit on the grass.
- Actually, there are plenty of places to sit on the grass – just not at Trinity College
- Dublin is really, seriously, massively expensive – about 5 Euros for a Guinness
- I can drink Guinness.
- I am now rather poor.
- People screwing up made for a charmed trip – we ended up in a penthouse apartment for our last night instead of the usual hostel beds. yusss.
- OutdoorKnit left its first international tag on the gate to Trinity College. It’ll be up here shortly
- Then i had to throw out my knitting needles at Dublin airport. I got them all the way through Gatwick to Dublin, but not the other way. Lack of consistency in knitting needle security makes for grumpy tash.
Phoenix Park, under the cross built for the Pope’s visit in 1979
Dublin Castle
and now for my attempt to avoid death by head cold…
Paris, c’est moi!
In about 20 minutes i’m walking out the door to catch a bus to Paris. It seems completely surreal. For how long have i dreamt of sitting at a terrace table, eating pain au chocolat, with my sunglasses on watching the beautiful Parisiens go by.
The past couple of days have been rather domestic – trying to not to go out and blow all my money before i get a job, and what with being away all week. Though i did find a Sainsbury’s – why is it that foreign supermarkets are so fascinating? Just the way things are packaged, and the way the store is laid out…
There a couple of jobs i’m applying for that i really, desperately want, so i am putting everything i can muster into making sure my cv stands out. Except Open Office is being seriously painful and not cooperating at all.
Fingers crossed. And here’s hoping i don’t get too lost 1. trying to find the bus stop at Victoria Station and 2. finding my way round the Paris metro.
getting all grumpy with it (and bogan bingo)
Been doing the usual morning catch up with the NZ news, and it hasn’t been a good way to start the day.
1. If the government isn’t going to be the role model for sustainability, then who the frick is?
2. How is cutting chunks of jobs out of government departments going to assist in any way with combatting the recession? Those people who now face the prospect of joblessness, oh gee, they won’t have any money to spend in the shops…
3. oh, oh, so sustainability can’t be used as a word at all anymore? jeebus. when i left uni some survey said that the majority of people my age had sustainability at the top of their list of concerns. Being all simplistic i’m going to claim that now our worries don’t matter.
4. Do we really care that two of the dancers from dancing with the stars are shacked up? Because there isn’t anything more important going on in the world?
For some silly reason I thought that being over here would mean I would be less irritated by silly policy back home. Wrong.
And now for something completely different: Bogan bingo.
Held at the dirty ‘australasian bar’ called the Walkabout in Shepherd’s bush, it was frigging hilarious. Plus it was bingo. Some of the coveted prizes were: a set of plugs (like, for the drain), an umbrella, a portrait of Jesus, and a 270 pound voucher for travel through Europe. Brilliant.
And i’ve just had word that my bank account is all sorted, so job hunting is on hold for the time being as i try to find where on earth i need to go to pick up my card and details, so that I can officially be a real person again.
DV or not DV…
Watching BBC news this afternoon, there was a bit of coverage about how there is going to be a review of UK Domestic Violence policy. The talk is of advising women when they have entered into a relationship with someone convicted of domestic violence.
The stats over here are that 2 in 5 people think that women are at fault in incidences of DV. One wonders how that would change if women are told ‘what they are getting themselves into’ and how many would say ‘we told you so, and you went and got involved anyway’.
The rate of reporting would no doubt be affected, too.
A bit more thought, perhaps? I hope that the review is as in-depth as the BBC tells us it will be.
Ephemera
I found Oxford Street, and with it Top Shop, American Apparel, Urban Outfitters, H&M, ohmmigoodness so many wonderful places filled with beautiful things to buy.
Which means I need a job, quick smartish.
Last night i was taken out for traditional sunday sessions at Belushi’s in Shepherd’s Bush by the boys, and had my first taste of the infamous snakebite. It involves a lot of whatever the additive number red food colouring is…which helps in disguising the odd combo of cider and foster’s. hmm.
London proved itself to be as small as any town when I ran into someone I used to play indoor netball with – and now have more people to catch up with! It’s wonderful having so many familiar faces to find here – not quite sure how i’d cope if i was all on my lonesome.
Decided to go to Paris this weekend – because I can. And because otherwise i’ll keep putting it off and not get there before Lauren leaves. Off Friday night, back monday night, and then onto a plane to Dublin Tuesday morning.
Now I just need to find some motivation to get a job – 3 months off has left me with some serious laziness in that regard…
