kneeshooter: (Default)
Cripes, I'm exhausted. This working for a living is doing for me. It seems like ages since I updated - which is mostly because it is ages since I updated.

In any case, deep breath, and here goes.

A couple of weekends ago I went to Oxford, and took some photos of lovely people doing silly things; and some twigs; and some flowers. The results I will bore you with later, when I get a chance to upload them properly. It might take some time though. Company was good, camera-pr0n was good, though I was mostly shattered.

Last week was my first full week then The New Job (TNJ). It involved a two day staff conference, a trip to Colchester (via London), a snowy drive to Nottingham and a day cowering at home from the white stuff falling from the sky. The staff conference was actually good fun. The novelty teambuilding exercise involved making a video, which I enjoyed more than I thought I might. Methinks there might be something to explore there in the future. Colchester was bloody miles away. I was also not impressed by the Holiday Inn. Snowy Thursday I made the trip because of another planning day. This is where my life started to unravel.

Well, not my life as such, but the stoic, professional face I'd been wearing for days. This is the face of a person who is quiet, considered, positive, professional, reasoned, respectable and well turned out. Unfortunately it slipped off and the real me poked through. Still, they haven't terminated my employment yet...

This last weekend I did very little. I stayed up too late doing a bit of work, playing The Lord of Rings, The Battle for Middle-earth II, The Rise of the Witch-King, which has probably the longest title of any game I own. I also watched some Oz (gritty!), some Battlestar Galactica (ok-good), some Heroes (wonderful fan heaven) and Lost (too predictable). I did find time to DJ at Malediction on Saturday and spent most of Sunday being slightly dead.

Apparently I need a silly DJ name - answers on a postcard...

My setlists were:

Read more... )

The big surprises were the number of people dancing to Modulate and someone saying to me it's the first time he'd heard Here Comes The War played out. I was shellshocked.

This week I have mostly been trying to convince myself that listening to the Today programme counts as work; enjoying the Archers and watching my Cthulhu investigator be murdered by a nasty piece of work with a .45. Poor Dr Kersh. He died a noble death during what was perhaps his most stupid and suicidal plan to date.

Finally I am nearly up to date, before jetting off again at the weekend. But there is time enough for one final story.

A couple of weeks ago, while I was in Austria there were some storms. During these storms a number of roof tiles detached themselves from my roof and decided it would be warmer inside. Ignoring the glass in their way, they fell to the earth. Alas they did not carry the words of $deity, but rather they just left devastation in their wake.

Upon my return I phoned my insurance company, got their glaziers out (or rather had a survey and the work is being done tomorrow) and had a budget to sort out the roof. So, I phoned a handful of roofers. One actually picked up the phone, came out and spoke to me. £480 inc VAT he said to me, perhaps unsurprising when I said the insurance company had authorised £500. "Written quote please!" I say and off we go. No quote ever appeared, so on Monday I phoned some more roofers and arranged for them to visit tomorrow to quote (when there will be someone in to open for the glaziers - with me so far?!).

But then this evening I get a phone call - without sending a quote or arranging to do the work, the original roofers turned up first thing this morning, did the job, and presented an invoice for £480 + VAT. So tomorrow I get to call them and explain that I'm not going to pay for that work and really it would have been better if they had arranged something with me rather than turn up in the van.

Trading Standards - here I come!!!
kneeshooter: (Default)
So, it's getting to the end of the week, so I write about last weekend. Only I don't have to bother really as [livejournal.com profile] lupercal has done it already, perhaps with a few tweeks.

B-Movie was good, though I felt like a stranger in a strange land. Vegging in Ilford was good though I felt like I should have the energy to do more. Instead of the gig that Jane/Simon did I spent the evening on a train, reading a Tim Powers book loaned by [livejournal.com profile] jfs that felt like PotC with a little more attention to history and a lead that wasn't Orlando Bloom (though he should still consider legal action!). Sunday was pottering around the Festival of History where re-enactment started to appeal.

Other than that, it's been a non-eventful week. I've played badminton, I've spent too much money on stock for the Dark Arts stall at Infest ("Roll up! Roll up! Buy a print!") and have had a second jab (which only took an hour and a bit in true NHS efficiency). Apparently [livejournal.com profile] pax_draconis reckons each shot costs £800 so I suppose I should just be grateful that I'm getting some kind of refund off the NHS. In truth I was more driven absolutely nuts by the crap TV in the waiting room.

Today I have to finish booking a skiing holiday (the excitement! the cost!) head south, tomorrow is Evita, Saturday is excising all traces of my existence from my parent's house and Sunday is SBA in Southampton.

In the meantime I've been enjoying Radio 4 too much, been attempting to get enough sleep and trying to avoid panic about work/photo backlog/Infest/other stuff.

This morning? I feel I've passed the worst. I'm strangely optimistic. How long will it last??
kneeshooter: (Default)
In other news - I still don't have a new job.

However, Radio 4 has taught me all about gastromancy - the art of taking the spirits of "angels, daemons and faerie" in through ones backside, into the stomach and then...

Well, actually that's when I got out of the car, but as the program was about ventriloquism I can only imagine puppets and apparently inappropriate relationships between men and toys are involved.
kneeshooter: (Despair)
The other day there I heard an interesting debate on Radio 4 about diversity training. One of the participants was suggesting the Diversity training industry was actually hiding rather than changing cultures in society - and that by "ticking boxes" organisations were being encouraged to "pay for experts to give talks" rather than actually addressing issues.

I thought this was quite interesting - though of course the question remains whether there is a better course of action...

I was reminded of this having caught a bit of fly on the wall of the Met Police this morning - the Missing Persons Unit catches up with one of their targets and opens the conversation with the heart-warming "Ere Mate - You Ain't Earing Strange Voices Or Nothin Are You?". Modern sympathetic policing...

Also, have a read of [livejournal.com profile] steve_c, who this morning has some depressingly true comments about modern politics.

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