I believe it is bad protocol to hit on someone before 8 o'clock in the morning. The truth is, I am not a so-called "morning person" anyway, so I believe lots of things are unnecessary at that time. For example, small talk with strangers on the bus - please leave me alone, I wear headphones for a reason, plus I am READING.
This morning, I got off the bus a stop early ready to walk the 25 minutes to work. My headphones were in my ears (soundtrack: Nick Drake). The sun so hot it felt like it was coming from inside my body - I love that feeling. To be warm is to be happy, like getting a hug from nature. A guy followed me off, also wearing headphones so I figured I was safe from small talk. This was not to be.
From somewhere under the gentle tones of music I could hear something that didn't flow with the melody. This man was trying to get my attention. So I pulled out my headphones thinking maybe my skirt was caught in my waistband or something. This has happened to me once before so I wasn't being totally paranoid.
"Hello, are you off to work?"
"Yes."
"Where do you work?"
"In the industrial estate."
"Nice weather, isn't it?"
"Yes, I love the sun."
"I like it a bit cold but not too cold."
"Oh, right." *What is the point of all this small talk*
"Are you married?" *wtf*
"Yes." *lies*
"Good bye."
He then instantly put his own headphones back in and ignored me. Much to my relief.
Another thing to point out about this exchange... I used to get asked if I had a boyfriend. This has now been upgraded... perhaps I am showing my age? Or do I just scream "commitment" now? No idea.
Wednesday 25 June 2014
Friday 24 May 2013
The Blog-o-sphere
Doesn't blogging seem to overtly pretentious? I mean you log on and just write whatever comes into your head. Like I am doing now. I mean sure I could plan it but the internet is all about speed and quick 'n' cheap information. Why plan and edit when I skip those stages altogether and jump straight to publishing.
So much navel gazing. Every thought that flows through my head can flow onto the screen but of course, it does not. I apply a filter because I assume/hope/like to think that someone somewhere will read this. I don't even care what your reaction is, I just want you to have one. Interact with my text, my words, my preaching in some way, please. Stare at my navel with me. Though you will only see the surface because this is not the forum for my inner-self. This is the space for who the world should see me as.
I am a committed writer. My first novel is a third of the way done and that has been edited and refined and researched (unlike this blog post). That is the place where I can be dark and deep and utterly immersed in writing. I feel that a blog is just a flaccid piece of celery... no substance whatsoever but you feel like you have absorbed some nutrients. This is just a way to keep with the times.
Which is a good point. There are benefits to blogging: it is current, it keeps you in good writing practices, it helps to put some aspects of your life into order, it gives you a bank of memories... some blogs give you new information. It is just hard to find and possibly harder to write a damn good blog.
So much navel gazing. Every thought that flows through my head can flow onto the screen but of course, it does not. I apply a filter because I assume/hope/like to think that someone somewhere will read this. I don't even care what your reaction is, I just want you to have one. Interact with my text, my words, my preaching in some way, please. Stare at my navel with me. Though you will only see the surface because this is not the forum for my inner-self. This is the space for who the world should see me as.
I am a committed writer. My first novel is a third of the way done and that has been edited and refined and researched (unlike this blog post). That is the place where I can be dark and deep and utterly immersed in writing. I feel that a blog is just a flaccid piece of celery... no substance whatsoever but you feel like you have absorbed some nutrients. This is just a way to keep with the times.
Which is a good point. There are benefits to blogging: it is current, it keeps you in good writing practices, it helps to put some aspects of your life into order, it gives you a bank of memories... some blogs give you new information. It is just hard to find and possibly harder to write a damn good blog.
Monday 13 May 2013
Curry Night in a One-bed Flat
Four meat-eaters and a vegan attend a curry night in my tiny flat with no table and not enough chairs. I would say it went well, perhaps it could have been improved but for my first time hosting a meal and my first ever cooking proper curry, I think it went well!
I'd been planning this thing for two weeks but had not had a trial run. My cockiness told me I would be able to cook regardless. Thankfully, I was right about this as I was so pushed for time. So, I step out of work at 6pm and out of Sainsbury's at 7pm and out of my shower at 7.30pm. At which point I receive a call from my friend Lexi who is five minutes away and doesn't know exactly where my house is! She is also running thirty minutes early and I am running thirty behind. Clutching a towel around myself I look at Joe with pleading eyes while confidently informing Lexi that he will come and get her. Nothing is yet on the hob or in the oven....
So I bolt for my bedroom, knowing I have to dress up a bit because my friends always do and, in truth, there is a bit of a friendly clothing war going on. I plump for a black tank top under a pink shrug with a short blue skirt, completed with purple tights. The whole thing sounds so planned but really it was all I could find with seconds to spare. I was extremely lucky that it was quite a nice outfit. My friend Abby told me later that night that she liked my "colours". So clearly a win!
I finally make it to my kitchen, my hair is still wet and I'm make-up free but at least I've made it to the damn cooking stage. I decide that as time is short I will follow the recipe to the letter. I'd gone to ASDA at lunchtime and picked up half the ingredients, which by this point were rolling all over the counter, and got the other half, as I've suggested, from Sainsbury's (with my cash-back card and nectar points, thank you very much)! They were rolling all over the other counter.
I started with Dal Kofta Balls: http://www.veggienumnum.com/2010/09/dal-kofta/. It was as I was crumblign bread crumbs over the mixture that my last of three guests arrived. I was elbow deep in lentils and nuts, and good Lord my hand's were sticky. Not to be beaten however I persevered with the bloody vegan balls and managed to get eight into the oven.
Got Joe on frying up the chicken, which he then transferred onto a plate and washed the pan. I was not going to let anything dead touch Abby's food!
I made the sauce from this recipe, using light coconut milk instead of yoghurt: http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/9535/indian-chicken-curry-with-tomatoes-and-yoghurt---murgh-kari.aspx.
For dessert I made: http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/28863/vegan-chocolate-tofu-pudding.aspx. I substituted the cocoa powder and soya milk for chocolate soya milk.
I also defrosted a double chocolate cheesecake, which my mum and I prepared earlier (Blue Peter Style). We used this recipe: http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/330617/double-chocolate-cheesecake?utm_expid=13353178-7&utm_referrer=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.co.uk%2F. This is easy to make and complete heaven to eat. You can use the cheapest chocolate you can find and it will still taste expensive. It takes less than thirty minutes to make and only a couple of hours in the fridge but freezes great too! It is a perfect pudding in so many ways. I knocked another one up at the weekend with no effort at all.
So I may have cooking like a maniac while my house was crawling with hungry people but I pulled it off. I felt like I was in a mini-commercial kitchen, trying to get food out as quickly as possible, chucking orders onto the restaurant floor ASAP. It was only on the third plate I realised we didn't have enough forks. Where the hell did all the forks go?!
All the while trying to make polite conversation, being interesting and witty. I leaned on my culinary skill fairly heavily, only pausing from this to tell an embarrassing sexual anecdote (I was story topping!). The food went down the hatches and my first ever vegan effort was a success (I've only got one testimonal on this but that is a 100% success rate if ever there was one).
The aftermath was a mere curry and cutlery bomb hitting my kitchen. No biggie.
I'd been planning this thing for two weeks but had not had a trial run. My cockiness told me I would be able to cook regardless. Thankfully, I was right about this as I was so pushed for time. So, I step out of work at 6pm and out of Sainsbury's at 7pm and out of my shower at 7.30pm. At which point I receive a call from my friend Lexi who is five minutes away and doesn't know exactly where my house is! She is also running thirty minutes early and I am running thirty behind. Clutching a towel around myself I look at Joe with pleading eyes while confidently informing Lexi that he will come and get her. Nothing is yet on the hob or in the oven....
So I bolt for my bedroom, knowing I have to dress up a bit because my friends always do and, in truth, there is a bit of a friendly clothing war going on. I plump for a black tank top under a pink shrug with a short blue skirt, completed with purple tights. The whole thing sounds so planned but really it was all I could find with seconds to spare. I was extremely lucky that it was quite a nice outfit. My friend Abby told me later that night that she liked my "colours". So clearly a win!
I finally make it to my kitchen, my hair is still wet and I'm make-up free but at least I've made it to the damn cooking stage. I decide that as time is short I will follow the recipe to the letter. I'd gone to ASDA at lunchtime and picked up half the ingredients, which by this point were rolling all over the counter, and got the other half, as I've suggested, from Sainsbury's (with my cash-back card and nectar points, thank you very much)! They were rolling all over the other counter.
I started with Dal Kofta Balls: http://www.veggienumnum.com/2010/09/dal-kofta/. It was as I was crumblign bread crumbs over the mixture that my last of three guests arrived. I was elbow deep in lentils and nuts, and good Lord my hand's were sticky. Not to be beaten however I persevered with the bloody vegan balls and managed to get eight into the oven.
Got Joe on frying up the chicken, which he then transferred onto a plate and washed the pan. I was not going to let anything dead touch Abby's food!
I made the sauce from this recipe, using light coconut milk instead of yoghurt: http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/9535/indian-chicken-curry-with-tomatoes-and-yoghurt---murgh-kari.aspx.
For dessert I made: http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/28863/vegan-chocolate-tofu-pudding.aspx. I substituted the cocoa powder and soya milk for chocolate soya milk.
I also defrosted a double chocolate cheesecake, which my mum and I prepared earlier (Blue Peter Style). We used this recipe: http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/330617/double-chocolate-cheesecake?utm_expid=13353178-7&utm_referrer=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.co.uk%2F. This is easy to make and complete heaven to eat. You can use the cheapest chocolate you can find and it will still taste expensive. It takes less than thirty minutes to make and only a couple of hours in the fridge but freezes great too! It is a perfect pudding in so many ways. I knocked another one up at the weekend with no effort at all.
So I may have cooking like a maniac while my house was crawling with hungry people but I pulled it off. I felt like I was in a mini-commercial kitchen, trying to get food out as quickly as possible, chucking orders onto the restaurant floor ASAP. It was only on the third plate I realised we didn't have enough forks. Where the hell did all the forks go?!
All the while trying to make polite conversation, being interesting and witty. I leaned on my culinary skill fairly heavily, only pausing from this to tell an embarrassing sexual anecdote (I was story topping!). The food went down the hatches and my first ever vegan effort was a success (I've only got one testimonal on this but that is a 100% success rate if ever there was one).
The aftermath was a mere curry and cutlery bomb hitting my kitchen. No biggie.
Thursday 9 May 2013
Feeling a Little Horse
My throat feels like this:
Combined with this:
My throat hurts! Wah!
Images from http://www.grit.com and http://www.modelshipbuilder.com/
Snake Rodeos... All the Fun at the Fair!
Except it isn't fun at all. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure for many an American rustling themselves a rattlesnake gets the old heart pumping and the excitement flowing but some people seem to overlook the obvious animal cruelty implications of these kinds of events. Snake rodeos are a tradition that have gone on for years in at least four US states: Texas, Oklahoma, Georgia and Alabama.
Let me explain my understanding of a snake rodeo: they started as rattlesnake round-ups so the new settlers could eliminate the animal from the land they were trying to farm, with incentives offered to hunters so they would kill as many snakes as possible. Now they have morphed into a twisted day out for all the family, there are still prizes for catching the most snakes. Adults and children hack away at the animals decapitating them to cheers from the crowd, all for the sake of entertainment. The animals themselves are not only exposed to this horrendous death but their treatment up to this point is diabolical. A few examples include the following acts of torture: animals having their mouths sewn up to prevent them biting; animals being deprived of food and water; animals being exposed to extremes of heat and cold often until death; animals cooped up in confined spaces in a similar way to the battery hen.
They are many reasons why these rodeos still take place, among them: honouring a sense of tradition, plain old fun and (the big one!) keeping community finances in order. As far as I understand the events do generate a lot of income for communities, both from the locals and from tourists. There is however an animal friendly alternative that could still maintain the knowledge of where modern Americans have come from along with a new element, educating people about wildlife and the importance behind preserving it. The towns that still hold these round-ups could replace them with wildlife festivals. These too would bring in vital funds and sideshows, stalls and other attractions would all still be needed in this new setting and so financially unaffected. San Antonio in Florida, and Fitzgerald and Claxton in Georgia have already changed their round-ups to successful wildlife festivals that generate income for their communities. I hope Texas, Oklahoma, Georgia and Alabama are not far behind.
On 13th March the city of Opp in Alabama was presented with a petition of more than 55,000 signatures, by the Center for Biological Diversity and its allies. It calls for the Opp ‘rodeo’, to become a ‘Rattlesnake
Rodeo Wildlife Festival ’, with a no-kill policy. I have written to the mayor Opp reiterating this idea and if you would like to do the same, please write to:
The Mayor’s Office
101 North Main Street
Opp, Alabama 36467
USA
Start your letter with ‘Dear Mr Mayor, or ‘Dear Mayor Bartholomew’ and end it ‘Yours sincerely’.
Some wording taken from Born Free's most current Activate campaign.
Image from http://peaceriverdogfanciers.org
Let me explain my understanding of a snake rodeo: they started as rattlesnake round-ups so the new settlers could eliminate the animal from the land they were trying to farm, with incentives offered to hunters so they would kill as many snakes as possible. Now they have morphed into a twisted day out for all the family, there are still prizes for catching the most snakes. Adults and children hack away at the animals decapitating them to cheers from the crowd, all for the sake of entertainment. The animals themselves are not only exposed to this horrendous death but their treatment up to this point is diabolical. A few examples include the following acts of torture: animals having their mouths sewn up to prevent them biting; animals being deprived of food and water; animals being exposed to extremes of heat and cold often until death; animals cooped up in confined spaces in a similar way to the battery hen.
They are many reasons why these rodeos still take place, among them: honouring a sense of tradition, plain old fun and (the big one!) keeping community finances in order. As far as I understand the events do generate a lot of income for communities, both from the locals and from tourists. There is however an animal friendly alternative that could still maintain the knowledge of where modern Americans have come from along with a new element, educating people about wildlife and the importance behind preserving it. The towns that still hold these round-ups could replace them with wildlife festivals. These too would bring in vital funds and sideshows, stalls and other attractions would all still be needed in this new setting and so financially unaffected. San Antonio in Florida, and Fitzgerald and Claxton in Georgia have already changed their round-ups to successful wildlife festivals that generate income for their communities. I hope Texas, Oklahoma, Georgia and Alabama are not far behind.
On 13th March the city of Opp in Alabama was presented with a petition of more than 55,000 signatures, by the Center for Biological Diversity and its allies. It calls for the Opp ‘rodeo’, to become a ‘Rattlesnake
Rodeo Wildlife Festival ’, with a no-kill policy. I have written to the mayor Opp reiterating this idea and if you would like to do the same, please write to:
The Mayor’s Office
101 North Main Street
Opp, Alabama 36467
USA
Start your letter with ‘Dear Mr Mayor, or ‘Dear Mayor Bartholomew’ and end it ‘Yours sincerely’.
Some wording taken from Born Free's most current Activate campaign.
Image from http://peaceriverdogfanciers.org
Wednesday 8 May 2013
A Man's Voice
It is my personal belief that I have quite a deep voice. Not too deep but definitely not high pitched or squeaky, a bit of a contralto. It's quite a strong voice... maybe. Okay, I'm skirting around the issue here.
As a receptionist (albeit not for much longer) I am on the phone quite a lot... My script is the following:
"Good morning/afternoon, Capita IT Services."
This is my stock phrase every time. Usually followed by one of the following:
"No, sorry, you've come through to Capita. Unfortunately I think you have the wrong number."
"You're an automated voice."
"Hold on one moment, I'll just try and put through."
Written in order of popularity.
On occasion however I get asked this:
"Is that Colin?"
or
"Is that Doug?"
Now, the hope is they have quite effeminate voices... both of them. The concern is... I sound like a bloke.
Lucky for me, you'll never know.
As a receptionist (albeit not for much longer) I am on the phone quite a lot... My script is the following:
"Good morning/afternoon, Capita IT Services."
This is my stock phrase every time. Usually followed by one of the following:
"No, sorry, you've come through to Capita. Unfortunately I think you have the wrong number."
"You're an automated voice."
"Hold on one moment, I'll just try and put through."
Written in order of popularity.
On occasion however I get asked this:
"Is that Colin?"
or
"Is that Doug?"
Now, the hope is they have quite effeminate voices... both of them. The concern is... I sound like a bloke.
Lucky for me, you'll never know.
A Brief Encounter as a Waitress
Let me state very clearly that I am not a waitress. In fact, I am a receptionist. But, over the bank holiday on Monday afternoon between 1pm and 3pm I became one. Full on penguin gear, plates balanced on my arm, grinning from ear to ear waitress: my trial at Yummy! Yummy! in Maidstone.
So, as I have indicated, I was dressed up to the nines in a black knee length skirt and a white button up shirt (like the ones boys wore at school) with flat black shoes. It was a task and a half getting the gear in the first place. On the Saturday I'd had my interview with Abhi, the very sweet and well turned out manager, who had offered me the trial along with a list of clothes I didn't own that were mandatory. I dragged Joe to Primark where I picked up the shirt for £4.00 (affordable even on my salary), along with a not mandatory but very necessary white bra. Let me explain. Primark is brilliant for very cheap, often quite stylish clothes (not that this shirt fell into to the latter category) but with the cheapness comes a certain drop in quality that one simply cannot avoid. So, I noticed that when I tried it on my dark blue bra was totally visible, perfectly outlining my bust. I made the executive decision that this was not required for my new uniform and picked up a Daze white bra for £2.50! I also discovered that Primark shoes are made for dolls and bought the pumps from Deichman's (two doors down).
Anyway, so I'm kitted out and ready for work. Except work is on bank holiday Monday and I really want to sit on my arse and play Skyrim. I wake up at 11.45am, trudge into my living room and put off the inevitable shower, while munching on a brioche. By the time I get round to the shower and I am ready to leave it is five minutes before my shift. With no time to blow dry or apply make-up as I had planned I quick march to the restaurant. Sweat pours from my forehead and armpits, my hair scraggy about my face. I'm sure my cheeks are red. Abhi shows me where the fire exit is... the entrance I just came through, where to get rid of dirty plates etc and then offers me an elastic band. "All waitresses must have their hair tied up!" I pull my short bob into a tight ponytail, add an apron and I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Late, sweaty and unprepared (just like the interview) but I'd come this far and humiliated myself this thoroughly, I wasn't going home just yet.
Abhi introduces me to Cristina, an old hand, and Hayley who is on her first day. Cristina shows me the ropes, including the till, the table numbers and how the buffet and drinks work. I was told the two key things are taking away dirty plates/empty glasses (as soon as they are put down by a customer) and to check twice on how their meal is, once during main and once during dessert. I was handed a drinks menu and told to familiarise myself. I've got to be honest the work didn't seem to strenuous especially as it was not the busiest lunchtime.
The next two hours tick slowly by and I found it quite pleasant, much more so than an office. Cristina was massively on my case about picking up plates and offering drinks. We had one table in particular we were fixating on, myself, Cristina and Hayley. I asked if I should check on them and was told to give them a moment. The customers were then descending upon numerous times by the three of us: do you want are drink? are you done with that? I watched Hayley ask them again within thirty seconds of me approaching le table. I decided to give them a break to enjoy their food. When there meal came to an obvious conclusion I asked C if I should offer them the bill. "No! No! No!" she cried. "They will come to us. Do not just go in their faces 'have you finished?' trying to rush them." I wasn't doing that. "Okay, sure thing." Twenty minutes later the customers realised they were being ignored and asked for the bill.
Moral here: always ask for the bill, they are not going to bring it to you, in the hopes you will order more.
Unbeknownst to me, my shift was drawing to a close, I wondered between the aisles of tables and food, received a tap on my shoulder from Abhi and was asked to remove my apron and wait at table 16 (the one hidden round the back of a pillar). I took my hair down and then changed my mind, trying to still look professional and yanked it back up. He joined me shortly after I'd sat down and asked me about my experience, put on the spot I was stumped for words and managed "It was nice." *facepalm* He then gave me my feedback. "You didn't check on the customers, to see how their meal was. I expected with your receptionist background that you would have done that." How do I tell him I was discouraged from checking when I wanted to and that I felt we were overcrowding them for the rest of the meal?"Urm.. Urm... It is a learning curve for me." Answer: I don't. "We will get back in touch with you at the end of the week if you have been sucessful. If you don't hear, well... ".
The afternoon however ended on a high when I was offered free food, a delicious tikka masala. So at any rate even if they haven't gained an employee they have gained a customer.
So, as I have indicated, I was dressed up to the nines in a black knee length skirt and a white button up shirt (like the ones boys wore at school) with flat black shoes. It was a task and a half getting the gear in the first place. On the Saturday I'd had my interview with Abhi, the very sweet and well turned out manager, who had offered me the trial along with a list of clothes I didn't own that were mandatory. I dragged Joe to Primark where I picked up the shirt for £4.00 (affordable even on my salary), along with a not mandatory but very necessary white bra. Let me explain. Primark is brilliant for very cheap, often quite stylish clothes (not that this shirt fell into to the latter category) but with the cheapness comes a certain drop in quality that one simply cannot avoid. So, I noticed that when I tried it on my dark blue bra was totally visible, perfectly outlining my bust. I made the executive decision that this was not required for my new uniform and picked up a Daze white bra for £2.50! I also discovered that Primark shoes are made for dolls and bought the pumps from Deichman's (two doors down).
Anyway, so I'm kitted out and ready for work. Except work is on bank holiday Monday and I really want to sit on my arse and play Skyrim. I wake up at 11.45am, trudge into my living room and put off the inevitable shower, while munching on a brioche. By the time I get round to the shower and I am ready to leave it is five minutes before my shift. With no time to blow dry or apply make-up as I had planned I quick march to the restaurant. Sweat pours from my forehead and armpits, my hair scraggy about my face. I'm sure my cheeks are red. Abhi shows me where the fire exit is... the entrance I just came through, where to get rid of dirty plates etc and then offers me an elastic band. "All waitresses must have their hair tied up!" I pull my short bob into a tight ponytail, add an apron and I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Late, sweaty and unprepared (just like the interview) but I'd come this far and humiliated myself this thoroughly, I wasn't going home just yet.
Abhi introduces me to Cristina, an old hand, and Hayley who is on her first day. Cristina shows me the ropes, including the till, the table numbers and how the buffet and drinks work. I was told the two key things are taking away dirty plates/empty glasses (as soon as they are put down by a customer) and to check twice on how their meal is, once during main and once during dessert. I was handed a drinks menu and told to familiarise myself. I've got to be honest the work didn't seem to strenuous especially as it was not the busiest lunchtime.
The next two hours tick slowly by and I found it quite pleasant, much more so than an office. Cristina was massively on my case about picking up plates and offering drinks. We had one table in particular we were fixating on, myself, Cristina and Hayley. I asked if I should check on them and was told to give them a moment. The customers were then descending upon numerous times by the three of us: do you want are drink? are you done with that? I watched Hayley ask them again within thirty seconds of me approaching le table. I decided to give them a break to enjoy their food. When there meal came to an obvious conclusion I asked C if I should offer them the bill. "No! No! No!" she cried. "They will come to us. Do not just go in their faces 'have you finished?' trying to rush them." I wasn't doing that. "Okay, sure thing." Twenty minutes later the customers realised they were being ignored and asked for the bill.
Moral here: always ask for the bill, they are not going to bring it to you, in the hopes you will order more.
Unbeknownst to me, my shift was drawing to a close, I wondered between the aisles of tables and food, received a tap on my shoulder from Abhi and was asked to remove my apron and wait at table 16 (the one hidden round the back of a pillar). I took my hair down and then changed my mind, trying to still look professional and yanked it back up. He joined me shortly after I'd sat down and asked me about my experience, put on the spot I was stumped for words and managed "It was nice." *facepalm* He then gave me my feedback. "You didn't check on the customers, to see how their meal was. I expected with your receptionist background that you would have done that." How do I tell him I was discouraged from checking when I wanted to and that I felt we were overcrowding them for the rest of the meal?"Urm.. Urm... It is a learning curve for me." Answer: I don't. "We will get back in touch with you at the end of the week if you have been sucessful. If you don't hear, well... ".
The afternoon however ended on a high when I was offered free food, a delicious tikka masala. So at any rate even if they haven't gained an employee they have gained a customer.
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