Eureka! A kick in the stomach...

I would like to direct you to Nine Tenths Full of Penguins talking about Sigur Ros, who I unreasonably claim to dislike, and a moment of thrill he got when first hearing one of their songs.

I can't claim to have felt anything much when listening to it, but I did just get my own little jump-in-the-stomach feeling (no, not a baby, silly!).

I have been dragging on and on with an essay. It's always a worry, reading stuff, having no real sense of where I'm going to end up, and the terrible paralysising fear that I'm going to have nothing to say. Nothing at all. I'll work so hard and just tell the lecturer what all these other people said, and he'll say, well, yes, I knew that, that is why I am the lecturer and you are the tudent. Have a 35% fail.

And then, suddenly, I am writing the essay, and I look at what I've written about Single Regeneration Budget funding. And I look at what I want to write about the Pre-Volunteer Programme at the Commonwealth Games. And I realise... I can argue that the PVP was very successful, but the criticisms of it are the same as the criticisms of the SRB, and I can argue that it's likely that it was successful despite being SRB funded, and I realise that I have an argument! It may not be true and it may not be write, but it works!!!!!

So, obviously, I blog about it rather than writing my essay.

Now go back to advising me on laptops.

Technological advice request...

Ok, my clever and technologically aware friends, I am thinking of buying a lap-top in the near future and would like some advice. My current desktop is a bit old and slow and gets tired and confused when asked to do too many things. And I'd like to be able to work all over the house and occasionally take it out and about with me - to work on the train, at university or at my mother-in-law's in Skye, for example.

I want to use it to:

1. Look at Facebook.
2. Listen to the comedy programme I like on Radio 4, which was on yesterday, in the kitchen, rather than Front Row.
3. Store all my photos and every essay I have ever written, plus 50 versions of my cv, just in case I do need an out-of-date cv to apply for an admin job at some point.
4. Listen to music.
5. Skype my best friend in Indonesia. I liked the idea of having a webcam to do this, until she pointed out that their internet connection is too poor to support webcam use and talking at the same time. But still...
6. Have 13 journal articles open at the same time.
7. Play World of Warcraftbadly and sulk because all my friends have levelled their characters faster than me. I maintain this is because I have a life.

I'd like to get something which will last me a long time and won't need replacing too soon. I'm expecting to spend more than £500 but hopefully not too much more. If it looked nice that would be a bonus, and if it was light and mobile, that would also be a bonus, but fairly low down my list of priorities. If could have a big screen for playing WoW, but still be small and easy to carry, that would be... miraculous?

So, advice? Who makes good laptops? What do you find really useful in yours? How do you find it for playing games? Any recommendations?

Thanks!

: )

I can tell when I'm happy. I sing, badly, while rushing round the house randomly.

Today, finally, I feel happy again. I am looking at a catalogue of archived material from the 2002 Manchester Commonwealth Games, trying to decide which bits I really need to look at when I take a trip to the Central Library on Thursday morning. The bit I really need, the SRB bid, is restricted access, so they may not let me look at it.

I go to put some washing on and make a drink and find myself singing, very badly, to the bits I can remember of Earth Song. I am happy.

If only they didn't make me go to work, I could be this happy all the time.

I suppose it is possible work don't send me on this course just to make me happy.



p.s. I have an appointment with a neurodude at Tameside hospital on 2nd Feb. Hope wasn't even an option. Unless I'd like to sit on a waiting list for a very long time. No thanks, I'd rather be allowed to drive again.

Pretty shoes...

So, I'm still worrying about the seizures - every time I feel 'funny' I wonder if I'm going to have another one. I try not to tell Matt every time I'm worried - there's no point in both of us worrying all the time. And he'd only try to ring me to check I'm ok, and I would have left my phone on silent, and he'd have to decide whether to rush home to check I'm not dead. Life has got slightly more complicated recently.

I'm also back to worrying about my essays. One is due on 18th and one on 25th January. I've emailed the course leader and my personal tutor to explain I'm having difficulties - I've been tired since the fit - I tried to do an hour's studying last Sunday and had to have an hour's nap in the afternoon. My personal tutor is amazing. She rings me up and runs through the options with me. I'm hoping to be allowed to put one essay off until the summer. Now I just have to try to work up the energy to study rather than look at Facebook.

I had lots of fun shopping yesterday - I'm going to a New Year's Eve cocktail party. Clearly I need a new dress. And some pretty shoes. I found both... though I am still no good at shoe-shopping - I wished to invoke the spirit of L1z but had to manage on my own... Which I did...



It was harder than you would imagine to find a pair of shoes with less than a 4" heel. I've decided that when there's a season of clothing which really suits you, you should run out and buy everything you can find as it will not happen again for at least four years...

Not driving home for Christmas

Well, I have some news... I had a seizure last night. The world all went grey and buzzy and I collapsed. Fortunately I was with Matt so he caught me (mostly...) then I had a bit of a fit on the floor. To me it just felt like a big faint but Matt says I stopped breathing, went all rigid and was post-icstil (that is my guess at spelling - it means 'how people look after they've had a fit' and apparently only happens after someone's fitted).

So Matt called an ambulance, who took almost an hour to arrive, they tried to claim I'd probably fainted (it can be beneficial to have a paramedic for a husband!) and took me away to Tameside hospital, where we stayed until about 3.30 am. They did a whole load of tests, which said I was fine and not pregnant...

I went to my doctor this morning. He said he thought it was a vasovegal, which is a blackout due to low blood pressure caused by a fight-or-flight response. This was reassuring until Matt said it really wasn't a vasovegal.

So I've been referred to a neurologist and am not allowed to drive until I've been cleared. This is a world of suck, but I'll live with it. It ruins my Christmas plans to drive over to my parents' while Matt works nights but I really will live with that - I'm not really up for killing myself or others...

We've also remembered a 'fainting' episode I had about 5 years ago - I think Christmas is a trigger! I got up in the night to get a drink and collapsed in the kitchen. Matt found me after about 5 minutes, woke me up and I was horribly sick. Matt put it down to me eating about a kilo of mixed fruit and nuts, but the more I think about it the more it seemed similar to this. We'll see.

I'm not keen on being epileptic but it wouldn't be the end of the world - it's manageable. What I can't bear is the thought of losing my driving licence after less than a year, and losing the whole range of driving-licence-necessary job opportunities that I tried so hard to get it for.

Regenerating

I'm in the library printing off approximately 350 pages or so of journal articles in preparation for my next assignment. I'm writing a report on a central government regeneration policy, evaluating it and comparing it to a local implementation of that policy. the idea is to reflect on what works in regeneration.

I'm looking at the Single Regeneration Budget, an attempt by the Conservatives in 1994 to streamline a whole range of funding pots, which was carried on by Labour until the early 2000s. My local example is the 2002 Commonwealth Games in Manchester which used funding from Round 5 of the SRB to attempt to leave a regeneration legacy. I don't have any real conclusions at the moment but I'm hoping it will come together at some point... I'm thinking about focussing on whether the volunteer programme actually increased skills for local people, particularly in East Manchester, but I will have to see what I can actually find...

I am feeling very encouraged in my studying at the moment. I've really enjoyed writing these essays, apart from the stress of trying to get them finished and not having enough time to get beyond the beginning of an argument. And being expected to do things like go to work and cook dinner and go out to see friends occasionally. I think I'd quite happily sit in my attic in my pyjamas thinking about things, emerging occasionally to make coffee... I've had a couple of marks back - I got 68% for a report on the Hills Review and 74% for a timed essay* on Housing Market Renewal. I still have another essay due back, which should be posted to me by Christmas - the lecturer kindly told us that a few people had done exceptionally well, most were average and a few people seemed to be really struggling, leaving us all imagining we're the ones who'll be re-sitting come July. Guess I'd better work really hard on this essay just in case!

*an exam trying to sound less threatening

Good morning?

Well, I'm definitely a student again.

With an essay due tomorrow, I have sayed up nearly all night to get it finished. I'm not sure it's the best essay ever, but at 5 am I fnd it hard to care.

Well, I suppose I'll get 3 hours of sleep. I'm almost tempted to go to sleep in my clothes to save time getting dressed in the morning.

But only almost...

In the bleak mid-winter

I am looking forward to the day that cryostasis becomes reality. I will get them to stick me in the deep freeze round about mid-october and take me out again in mid- to late-march. I will even co-ordinate my departure and arrival so it gets dark at roughly the same time so I won't feel disorientated, like I do when the clocks go back.

I suppose the alternative would be to spend six months of the year in Australia. That would be a little less pleasingly sci-fi though.

If I die...

$4225.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth.

Miami Dating

Over £2000 - though it wouldn't even pay off my student loans...

What's wrong with this picture?

I've just got back from an extremely fun weekend of being ridiculed by my Greenbelt support steward friends. I'm quite tired, due to staying up too late and drinking a lot (but not falling over or being sick this time).

I drove down. It's the first time I've driven such a long way - we were near Chepstow, on South Wales.

Let's look at the stats:

Distance home: 168 miles.
Time taken to get home: about 4 hours
Incidents of swearing at drivers: twice, in my head.

Distance there: 180 miles
Time taken to get there: nearly 5.5 hours
Incidents of swearing at drivers: numerous, at high volume

Let's see if there's any reason for this discrepancy:

On the way down, I gave a friend a lift. Let's call him... Handbag... to protect his identity. So we set off. I have excellent directions provided by the friend we're staying with. I give the directions to Handbag. We're driving down the M6 and it's reasonably busy. Handbag suggests the M6 Toll road to avoid congestions. I ask if we can still get on our route. Handbag assures me that we can. We drive down the M6 Toll and look for signs onto the M5, our next road. Turns out this is via the M42. I think this is a bit odd. Oh well.

Handbag rings the friend we're staying with to tell her where we're up to. She expresses some surprise that we're on the M42. She then rings Guilty* who is also driving up. He's some way along the M5, which is jam-packed, and knows the M42, which is also jam-packed. He wets himself laughing.

If you look at the larger map andcan see our journey, you might see where we went wrong...


View Larger Map

Obviously, I blame Handbag.

Not that the journey back was over an hour qicker, despite everything above Cheltenham being wreathed in fog (I learnt where my fog lights are). Moral of the story? Don't believe people when they tell you they can map-read.

*Yes, all my friends really do have weird names.

Bollocks!

I didn't get the job.

It sucks.

I feel like I compromised my interview preparation by trying to work on my essay, and my essay work by doing interview preparation.

Oh well, I suppose sometimes life is sad and there's nopoint whining about it.

Feeling hectic

Thought I'd just give a bit of an update as my life is feeling a bit crazy at the moment.

I working on my report and would like to hand it in while at uni on Wednesday to save another trip on Friday, but I don't think I'll manage it. It's coming together but I'd like another couple of weeks to think about my arguments and back them up, and maybe, just maybe, read some interesting things.

I have an interview on Tuesday morning for the Neighbourhood Management Officer job, which means that getting the report done for Wednesday is unlikely. By my reckoning there are 6 other people being interviewed. I'm hopeful - I'd really like the job - but I'll just have to see how it goes on the day.

Next weekend I'm going down to south Wales (I forget where - hopefully I'll remember by the time I set off) to see Greenbelt stewarding friends. I'm expecting lots of fun and some fireworks. I'm also driving down which I'm quite excited about - I haven't done much long-distance driving.

And then, after that, Matt and I are going up to Skye for his mum's wedding. It's a very long way - 8 hours driving plus any stops. We went to the Trafford Centre today to try to get clothes to wear to the wedding but didn't realise it shut at 8 rather than 10 so were not ultimately successful. It's not like I have time for another shopping trip but I will just have to find time...

Genius!

I was listening to Genius on Radio 4 this evening. The idea is that people come up with ideas that they think are genius, and a Radio 4-type celebrity (funny, clever or, usually, both) decided whether they are or not, and then the audience decides which is most genius. You had to feel sorry for one guy. His idea was "husbands 4 justice". Rather than campaigning for access to their children, they want their wives to make them hot puddings, initally on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays, working up to 7 days a week. He thought he was presenting to Nigella Lawson. Turns out it's Germaine Greer. She was never going to like it...

I'm going for promotion at work. It's weird. I've never been for promotion before. Not only do I have the worry that I'm not presenting myself aboslutely as well as I can, I also have the fear that, as these people have seen me work for the past year, they might sit reading my appliaction and saying She really thinks she's that good? You can't blag your way through interviews in quite the same way, I'm guessing.

I know I can do the job, I really want it, and it's a very public competition. If I don't get it I will feel like I've let myself down because I know I can. If only I can write the right think on this damn application form... I keep thinking "I'm sure I've done other things like this...". Just have to remember them...

Fight! Fight! Fight!

I just re-remembered Googlefight! I was hoping it might help me to win an argument. It didn't, but it pleased me again...

Answers on a postcard...

PostSecret has, I imagine, become a Sunday habit for many people. I'll have a look at the post-cards sent in anonymously, handmade, revealing people's deepest secrets. I love it because it shows that my deepest secret isn't just my secret. The thing you think you could never confess because it is too terrible? Send it in and someone will say, "I feel that too".

Try to visit PostSecret today and you'll find a blank page owned by Nicole, who has been on Blogger since September 2007. 7741 people had viewed her profile last time I looked, so I'm guessing it really is a habit for many people. We're all wondering where PostSecret has gone. Has Nicole stolen it? Is this the end?

Obscure Greenbelt post

I just found this. I thought it was just me.

A growing problem...

So, I signed up a very nice tenant today. We were chatting and I asked her about her baby - how old he was, that sort of thing. And then she looked at me and asked, "Is that your first?"






I said, "No, it's just fat." She had the grace to look very embarrassed.

It's a family thing. Both my sisters put weight on on their bellies in a vaguely pregnancy-bump style as well. We don't know about my mum as she doesn't put weight on.

Fortunately I don't have issues about how I look as this isn't the first time this has happened by a long way. Possibly, if I did have issues, it wouldn't happen as I'd lose the bump.

However, I do know that I need to do some exercise and lose some weight to feel healthier. The problem is that I am very lazy and don't really like exercise. I'll do it for a few days and then I get bored. I quite often feel too tired to exercise (I know, if did more exercise and lost some weight I'd have more energy...) and there's always things I'd rather do. But I think, if I don't do it now, maybe I'll just get older and fatter...

Any suggestions?

Greenbelt '07

I'm back from Greenbelt! This has definitely been my favourite Greenbelt ever – much better without a broken leg!

I work as a support steward. We start at 7 pm (ish) and finish at 3 am (ish). We help other stewarding teams when they need it, we wander round and talk to Greenbelters, we look for lost children, and do anything else we're asked to do to make Greenbelt a safe and pleasant place to be.

I love being part of the support team – we work together every year and meet up between Greenbelts so we do know each other well. It's a varied and interesting job, and more challenging than a lot of stewarding roles. Other stewards seem to appreciate us as we help them out with managing difficult situations and talk to them when they're bored on a gate somewhere. I feel like when I'm stewarding, I'm most like me, and most happy.

I've reflected a lot on what I like and don't like about my job this year. I like the first half of the evening best – we help out with venues and queues and talk to Greenbelters more. The second half seems to be more security-ish – looking for people who are trying to get into Greenbelt who shouldn't, or people who are causing trouble somewhere. I'm not so keen on it – partly because I have less experience of it and partly because I'm not sure what I'd do with people if I did catch them...

There were some highlights this year. I helped Venues stewards manage a huge queue for a small circus venue which was due to go in at the same time as a singing event in the organic beer tent was due to kick out – through the circus queue... I also helped to manage the queue for the Delirious signing – only 40 people or so turned up but it was fun anyway. And we went as a team to the Site Stewards' team briefing to heckle Stuart Traffic – I think we enjoyed it more than he did... Sanctus1, the church I'm part of, led the main communion service. I sat in the arena stage. We all released helium balloons – we all watched as ours rose into the sky, and then a second wave of balloons from main stare reminded us that, although we were at two venues with a different feel, we were still at once service. It was magical.

Greenbelt also sees me at my worst. I'm not a morning person. But when I'm woken up by a load of famillies going to a worship event after about 5 hours sleep, I can be a bit irritable. And sometimes, inadvisably, I might express that irritation. Equally, asking a 12-year-old if he was a horse because he was crossing the race track might not have been the best attempt at communication I have ever made (yes, we learnt about sarcasm at basic training. Yes, I've got my name down for re-training next year).

And at my drunkest. This year I discovered I like cider. Stories differ on how much I drunk, but I think it's fair to say that it was probably more than I should have had. At least I'm a happy drunk – between my morning irritability (“I hate you all”) and my drunken ramblings (“You do know that I love you, don't you?” - yes, I am embarrassed) I probably equate to a pleasant human being. I did fall off the pub bench of my own accord once, but I was definitely pushed the rest of the time... I have never been sick in a portaloo before and think I'm probably lucky I don't remember much about it. But I am definitely lucky to have to good friends I do who took me to the toilet, to my tent, put a duvet over me and stayed up to make sure I was ok. It's friends like these that make Greenbelt what it is.

Bastards!

I was mugged last night. Walking home from the station in the pouring rain, someone grabbed my arm. I screamed and felt my bag pulled out of my hand, so I turned round and saw a man running away with it. I shouted "stop thief!" (being, as I was, in a 1950s cop film) and chased him shouting "give me back my bag, you bastard!". He jumped in a car which was waiting with its engine running, and they drove away.

I am lucky: I wasn't hurt, they didn't get my keys or phone or my mp3 player. They took my purse so I've had to cancel my bank cards, and they've got a load of other useful and sentimentally valuable things. They've got a very nice bag. They've got my Manchester A-Z. They've taken the job application I was working on. And they've taken my sense of safety. I am fairly safety-conscious when walking about but it was a main-ish road and it wasn't that late or that dark. I'm not prepared to live in fear of crime, but I am quite shaken.

And having a bit of a bad week of it too. Last Wednesday I went out for drinks in Manchester with some friends. While walking to the bus stop a man tried to get me into his car - not by force but by claiming to be a taxi. Having been brought up to be aware of Stranger Danger, I said no, but I still felt intimidated on a dark and empty street but a man driving alongside me in a car. I told some police officers who said it is a bit problem. Unfortunately I couldn't remember the numberplate. But it makes me appreciate Nexus, which runs a night cafe offering coffee and safe, legal taxis.

I'm not saying Manchester is a dangerous place to live, just that some people are bastards.

Party party party!

We picked up our keys just after 3pm.

We now own a house.

The move was incredibly smooth. We are incredibly grateful to everyone who helped with lugging about heavy furniture and putting together stuff from IKEA, carrying things up into the attic, and waiting patiently while I deliberated over having the shelves in the lounge or the bedroom. I think you people may be relieved that now we've bought a house we won't be asking you to help us move again for a while...

We're mostly unpacked and life feels back to normal - last weekend we did no unpacking or house stuff at all - we did do a lot of drinking though! There are still quite a few things which need sorting out/moving/unpacking/putting up and some bits of painting and decorating. We've had a few problems (such as the bath overflow overflowing directly into the kitchen on ou first night...) and it turns out to be a bit scary being responsible for the house - there are times when a landlord is a wonderful thing - we had a few problems with our gas meter and boiler today and I didn't like having to sort it all out myself....

So we are having a housewarming party on Saturday 18th August from 4pm. It's going to be a barbecue. If you'd like to come, stick your email address in the comments section and I'll send you some details.