Saturday 30 May 2009

Today was one of those amazing days in Scotland made for just lounging about outside. Which is precicely what I did, and ended up with a pretty nice burn down the right side of my body.

I know, sunburned, in Scotland? Oh yeah. And we are scheduled for nice sunny weather until Monday.

The other thing I love about Edinburgh in the sun are the intersting characters who seep out of the woodworks. Nothing in comparrison to an average day in SF's Delores Park, but enough to keep me entertained.

Like the trio of gimps I saw today.
It was actually just the blue one, the yellow one, and the red one. Just walking down the street.

Very creepy.

There must have also been some sort of sporting match on as well today, because there was a gang of guys dressed in Jimmy Hats and Scotland Saltaire boxers walking down the street with a few guys in New Zealand rugby tops and towels.

I *heart* this city.

Wednesday 27 May 2009

Anyone ever take the Jungle Book to heart and wish that they really were raised by wild animals? Because that is so what happened to a child in Siberia.

"For five years, she was 'brought up' by several dogs and cats and had never been outside," a police statement said.
"The unwashed girl was dressed in filthy clothes, had the clear attributes of an animal and jumped at people," it said.


And the sweet headline of the article: 'Barking' Feral Girl 'Raised By Dogs'
Why? Because
"When carers leave the room, the girl jumps at the door and barks," the police said.

Awesome. Naturally, it happened in somewhere like Eastern Siberia, a place almost as exoticly romantic as the African jungle.

In another turn of horrific events, my FAVOURITE radio station of all time, Sacramento's Alternative station KWOD is GONE. No more. Cancelled.

I am in shock. The only radio station to play awesome music has fallen to the crappy economy.

PLUS, in even more horrendous news, the douche bags who control the fate of California have voted to uphold Prop 8, meaning that my beloved state of CA is more tyrannical than the corn state of Iowa, the Church of Scotland, and the East Coast.

Nothing makes me more fuming mad than seeing basic rights be blatantly ignored, especially since Prop 8 seems to have turned into a war over semantics. Since we supposedly live in a country where ideas such of equality exist, I feel it is only fair that we get to vote on EVERYONE'S right to marry. Want marriage? Stand before a jury of you 'peers' and testify as to why your love is 'better' than anyone else's and why you deserve it more than anyone else.

I hope those who can't see how unconstitutional Prop 8 is get squashed by a horde of GAY ELEPHANTS before being attacked by a flock of GAY PENGUINS.

The gods fricken hate me.

Today is my FIRST day of my NEW job, so NATURALLY.... I wake up with puffy, swollen eyes due to some crappy alergic reaction.

Excellent.

And because the UK fails in over the counter copious drugs, the best thing I could find was something for hay fever. I know it's supposed to do the same thing that Benedryl does, but damn it, it sure doesn't feel like anything is happening. I took the bloody pill 2 hours ago, and my eyes are still itchy and swollen.

I can't believe I'm sitting here dreaming about how awesome it would be to take 4 massive spoonfulls of Benedryl.

Even though this pill is supposed to be a one-a-day type thing, it's done nothing, so I'm taking another one with lunch. You haven't heard of anyone ODing on allergy pills, right? Right? I mean...it's just a little Clairatin...and I have to be at work in 4 hours!

Tuesday 26 May 2009

One of the things you have to get used to living in a city like Edinburgh are the small winding closes, wynds, and back alley streets that connect the city to larger arteries of traffic. Another thing you have to get used to is the constant smell of urine, sick, and feces that these small, narrow walkways emit.

Today, on my way home from grocery shopping, I inturrupted a man relieving himself in the alley just besides my house. But at least he was sober enough to looked ashamed, apologize to me, and try to mumble out an excuse as to why he was urinating in public, at 4:00 in the afternoon in broad daylight as opposed to one of the many cafes, pubs, and bars that are no more than 200 meters from where he was standing.

But I can't be too judgemental, because, yes, I too am guilty of the occasional public pee. Shocking, I know, but true, and one more tick in the box of things I blame on my younger years. I can't think of any time I've needed to drop my trousers in the burgh, but I certainly have back in CA. Now, I never would opt to pee outside (apart from situations like camping), but there were many a frat party where using the facilities was near impossible. Either someone was sick in one, having sex in one, or had left it in such a disgusting state that you didn't even want to go 20 feet near it. I always had a method to my frat party public pee excrusion: casually leave the house (these were always located in the suburbs), act like I was mearly taking a casual walk, and then find someone's house that had a nice big garden, preferably one with lots of hedges or trees. If anyone had been out, I'm sure they would have assumed I was a burglar scoping out my next target. Then, when I hoped no one was looking, I would duck into the shadows and try to either blend into the foliage or creep far enough away from the road to be seen. Once, this was literally in someone's back yard, and thank goodness they didn't have motion sensors or dogs. Then, like a lady, I would quickly find a spot on a nice patch of ground (not the sidewalk, a wall, or walkway) and do the deed before they owners of the premise sensed something was up. Normally not the case at 2 in the morning, but you never know.

And every time I had to slink away to find a little patch to pee, I was never more jealous of the guys and how easy they had it.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijfl60DsesltfCcTl4N0k9v8PAglaD3PV66oggXlQT1yPLhTF7PzgeG2Z3Y-GRC6juZlg3iq5j8XU4G-i9wOWRTxOkWW6uJigMAfUoFiu7PC-6PTzrYWtnDT_781di0pPJHdUXtgiSZxE/s400/no_pee_zone.jpg

Wednesday 20 May 2009

There must be something in the air...or water, or American food these days, because it suddenly seems like everyone I know is either married or engaged (btw, happy anniversary Kiki!). See what I mean!?!?

As with most things, it all started with Facebook. I couldn't help but notice that a lot of my friends' statuses were proclaiming "[insert name] is the happiest person EVER", "OMG, two weeks before the wedding!", " [insert name] loves [insert name]!! Thank you for making me the happiest person ever!!!"

So naturally, curious me decided to do a tally. Bad idea. I discovered that 23 of my friends are either married or engaged, and out of them, 4 of them have BABIES! One with twins, and one with 2 already. DUDE! And I'm a month shy of turning 25. And I KNOW PEOPLE WITH MARRIED LIVES AND BABIES! 23 of them and counting!

I guess I'm still mentally in the 'but we were just in High School, like, a year ago!' mindset and totally don't feel as 'grown up' as the rest of my classmates seem to be. I mean, I just finished school a year ago, My Honey is about to go back to school, and at the moment, I am working a very part time job and making nothing while paying off my student loan with imaginary money. Marriage? Kids? Ummm, can I haz job first?

I know I constantly compare myself a lot to everything under the sun, but I have to say, nothing quite makes me feel like I'm light years behind everyone else than seeing the kids I went to High School with getting all hitched and having proper jobs and lives. Did I miss something? Was there a 'growing up' fast track course that everyone and their mom took while I was pissing away my early 20s ( oh god, can't believe I wrote that...I'm almost no longer an early 20something) drinking pints in pubs? I even have a few friend who have put down DOWN PAYMENTS on homes!

But as much as I whinge about how jealous I am that they are all grown up (and yes, in my head the image of grown up I have is the same I had with I was 7 yrs old, playing dress up, writing cheques, wearing my mom's lipstick and pretending to smoke pretzel sticks and drinking juice pinky up), I am FREAKING SCARED to let it happen to me. Because being 'grown up' is also synonymous with 'old' and 'having responsibilities' and I think I'll try to post pone some of those until I'm at least 30.

Tuesday 19 May 2009

Today was my first day of 'trainig' for my new job at the NLS. I showed up at 9:30, ready to start off the day...filling out countless forms. Seriously, they make you sign your name on EVERYTHING. Sign to get paid (yes please!) sign to say they've given you the Employee Conduct Handbook (ugh), sign to say you've recieved the Internet Conduct Book (super ugh), sign to say you're read the Internet Conduct book(really?) sign to say you are okay with them adding you to the directory, sign , sign, everywhere a sign.

Then on to meet the 'team'. We were shuffled from one line manager to the next. This is how you use the library catalouge ( Umm...MSc grad here, we did this is Research and Methodology...AND in the school of Common Sense). This is how you enter information into the computer, and on and on and on. 80% of it was worthless. Just being talked at for an hour at a time about very obvious stuff and then watching while someone pressed a few keys on the computer. We easily could have condensed the whole day into half a day, and SOMEHOW we have 4 more days of this. Tomorrow I have to be there at 9 to learn how to use Google to search for books and journals. Seriously? And it will take an hour?

But I guess I'm getting paid, so now worries. And it's funny to hear them complain about stuff- "Oh, this place is a complete mess of organised chaos" -Lady, after working at the NHS and their disorganised super chaos, your world is a sanctuary. "Can you believe this lady sent in an enquiry at 8:23 and wrote 'Have a nice weekend'? As if she was expecting a reply before Sunday? Ha"- Dude, she was being nice. It's not like she was a cancer patient whose referal and notes had gone missing, causing her to wait another 6 months for a colonoscopy!

But I am DEF going to get another job to supplement this. Apparently this is a 'student job', aka, everyone who works the part time shift (aka ME) ONLY comes in a few nights from 4:45-8:30, and from 9-1 two Saturdays a month so that they can have the days free for uni. So basically I have ALL DAY. The one thing the induction failed to address was hours worked. I don't know what the schedule looks like, and won't for at least a week. But once it's availible, I'll *gulp* see about going back to the NHS.

On another completely nerdy note, we get magnetic name badges to wear. Totally feel like I have a communicator badge on from Star Trek (TNG baby!) . I keep wanting to touch it and say 'Shady to the Bridge'.

Monday 18 May 2009

Friday night, My Honey didn't come home from work until 9:00pm, and since I had waited to eat dinner with him, he treated me to a delicious Sushi dinner (I had been munching on Cinnamon buns all day and wasn't very hungry anyway). We got home a little after ten and settled into a food coma, content to just surf the interwebs until sleepy time pulled us down into the soft covers of bedfordshire. However, just after 12, we heard a MASSIVE bang that shook our flat, followed by what sounded like a mini Niagra falls. At first we thought it was our washinging machine, which had shaken the most, but an inspection of that found it dry and empty. So we followed the water noise and saw threads of water streams bursting out like angry veins from under the bathroom sink.



We quickly turned off the power to the flat and called up The Dad to see where the main water valve was. We got the water shut off in time to have he downstairs neighbour pounding on our door asking if we were'having a bath.' We told him that we had shut off the water and that a pipe must of burst or something, but the poor guy was a bit shaken, having just had about 10 gallons of water dropped down in his flat below so late at night.

The next day was a bit like camping. We used what bottled water we had to make tea and wash our hands, and I tried my best to not think of pee or jobbies or how much I needed to use the toilet. The emergency plumber came at 11, and by 12 we had water! Apparently whatever idiot did the plumbing in the flat put the pipes in wrong so essentially instead of having the pipes connect and stay put togeher, the one pipe was just gently resting on top on the other with no actual connection. And the pressure just caused the pipe to separate where there should have been a join.

Yay for water adventures!

Friday 15 May 2009

I woke up this morning to find that the lovely sunshine which had graced Edinburgh for the past 4 days (not to mention the freezing accompanying winds of death) had departed (the sun, not the wind) leaving the sky a murky grey colour with the smell of rain hot on its heels. As anyone from a forest in Northern California can tell you, you can definitely smell impending rain, and this morning stunk of it. The best cure? Hot, fresh, homemade Cinnamon buns! I quickly got to the store before the rains came. After burning off breakfast by mixing and rolling out the dough by hand (because bread machines are for pussys), I had these diabetes inducing beauties


After about 20 mins (okay, at 20 mins they were brown on the outside....but totally uncooked inside as I soon found out, so I popped them back in for another 15 mins on low heat to slowly cook them without overcooking the outside) I had these babies that were done just as the heavy rains hit:


I didn't frost them for the pics, but I made a delicious cream cheese (can you tell it's my favourite?) vanilla frosting that wasn't too sweet because holy crap, this recipe calls for a buttload of sugar.

Super delicious! And perfect to accompany the rains of death, arctic winds, and a hot cup of tea.

Well, if Tuesday's Eurovions was bland, last nights was ROCKING! THIS is the Eurovision as I remember.

My favourites:
Greece- because this guy is taking himself SERIOUSLY. As in he is seriously hardcore about winning Eurovison.


Also, Hungary.

Oh Hungary, major WTF?!?! Watch where the dude's head is loacated...peerve.


Honerable mentions are Ukraine for the stripper in a hamster cage, Netherlands for killing the most mirrorballs for suits, and Albanie for featureing a creepy green gimp.

As you can see, these performances were VOTED on by the home countries and are the 'best acts' they had. Says something for their skeezy nightclubs, eh?

Thursday 14 May 2009

...while we're on the topic of food, here are some pic's I've been meaning to put up of the Chocolate Sauerkraut cake I made 2 weeks ago.

I'm not sure if it was the Sauerkraut or what, but this baby stayed SUPER moist, and was by far the best cake I've ever made from scratch.

From Food


From Food


I played around with the frosting by making one up- half tub of lite cream cheese, one tub marscapone, some powdered sugar and cocoa to taste and voila. Done. And Delicious!c

My friend Kiki over at Make My Funk did a great post about cooking. The funny thing is that I had planned on doing one on the same subject as well, only I was too busy getting ingredients to write one until now. After she beat me to it. However, hers was all about learning how to cook- something I feel everyone should learn how to do .

Mine is on discovering cooking sources. Despite writing an 80pg dissertation on cookery books, I have never used them. I don't know why- I suppose following a recipe feeds into the feeling of homogeny, statically doing what I'm told, and recalls images of Communist Russian architecture to my mind- boring, bland, and docile.




I thinkI take after my mom and dad's style of cooking rather than my grandma's. My grandma is an absolute slave to the cook book and can't even make a dish without following a recipe to the letter.

But recently I've been getting bored with my meals and even though I think I can cook pretty decently with the random stuff we have laying around the kitchen, I acknowledge that I fail when it comes to just 'creating' a meal without a predetermined idea. If I feel like having chicken, I only really know how to make (a freaking amazing!) roast chicken, or chicken fillets, which I then put on baguettes to make (freaking delicious) sandwiches or salads. Recently, I've been obsessed with Thai and Vietnamese spices and flavours, so I've done my fair share of creating Vietnamese salads, prawn rolls, and Thai beef going by taste and trial and error. And those have been pretty amazing too.

But recently I was over at a friend's house and we were making dinner for the family. And like my grandma, my friend is pretty useless with out the aid of a cook book. The meal we made was fantastic and got me thinking about getting a few of these cookery books for myself.

What we had was chicken. Chicken rolled in brown sugar. Then cooked (she pan fried it, but I grilled it) . Then we made a Vietnamese sauce for it that I had never heard of before- green chilies, shallots, fish sauce, lime juice, coriander, and sugar. Freaking amazing! Most of the dressings I used to make were rice vinegar based rather than lime juice.

So now I'm rethinking cook books, but still holding onto my rebellious edge. I want to redo that chicken recipe, but use beef instead and omit the cumin. I'm realising that cook books have a lot more in them than I thought, and I can always just steal the ideas and amend them to fit my cause. I don't need to feel like every dish I make needs to be 'uniquely mine' because there's nothing wrong with following a recipe every now and then. Even though the odds of ever following one to the letter is still pretty slim.

Wednesday 13 May 2009

To really grasp the full power of Eurovision theatricality, here is a little look at years past (okay, only last year) and the sheer WTF performances that made me so giddy.

Latvia:


Spain:


Bosnia-Herzegovina


Enjoy

is EUROVISION!

I am obsessed with this. I never knew what Eurovision was until last year ( I know, how did something so amazing escape me for so long?!?) but when I saw it, I was hooked.

For those in not Europe, Eurovision is a 'singing' competition where all the European Nations (and some I didn't even know were considered Europe, such as Israel, Turkey, Russia and Andorra(?)). They try to flog it as the 'best singers in Europe competing' but really, it's all a big jokey cheese fest. Last year, Ireland's entry was a singing turkey (puppet) who just took the piss out of the whole competition. Countries like the UK, France, Germany, and Spain, and the Hosting Country automatically get put in the final because they fund the whole project. And since you're not allowed to vote for your own country, you see a lot of political voting- Iceland always votes for Denmark, Finland always votes for Norway, and no one ever votes for the UK. Probably because we never really consider ourselves 'European'.

But voting aside, the real meat comes from the 'I can't believe what I'm seeing/hearing' performances, which sadly, this year are few. At least from the first semi-final. Here are the best I could find





and I actually quite liked Armenia's but they don't have a good video up yet.

Monday 11 May 2009

Yes, FINALLY, after cockteasing bouts of sun, rain, sun, rain over the duration of the day for days on end, the sun finally came out and stayed out. And it was HEAVENLY! I went for a walk to return my library book, then over to the Meadows to lay out in the sun and take it in.

And I felt like a wee fairy! The blossoms that had graced the Meadow paths earlier were loosening up and with every (cold) breeze ( and holy hell there were a LOT of them), I got showered upon by hundreds of pink and white petals. It would have been very romantic if I weren't by myself.

It seems like all the students still around the city were also taking advantage of the sun because they Meadows was teeming with them, playing music, sports, drinking, laughing, and just stocking up of vitamin D. The forecast says it will stay the same for tomorrow as well, so fingers crossed, I'll be having another (solo) picnic in the sun.

That's right- this blog is getting divorced...or, you can think of it as undergoing mitosis, which is probably a more apt description.

I've noticed that I can't help but write a lot lately about my knitting experiences...and this I know is boring for the majority of you. Therefore, as of TODAY, there will be NO MORE KNITTING speak on this blog. None. Knitting, I cast you off! (ooh, bad knitting pun...shame, shame!)

Instead, my knitting adventures will feature here. Anyone interested is more than welcome to join me there to read all about my yarn addiction. But this one will remain for more pedestrian intersts- rants at stupid people, comments on idiotic fashions, and the odd article on bizzare animals/people/events/etc.

So there we have it. The knitting speak is GONE, having evolved into its own entity and broken off from the mother Blog.

Sunday 10 May 2009


Last night Scottie and I went out. We don't go out very often because most of the time it's too cold, I don't feel pretty enough, or we just at a big ass meal and are confined to slouch on our couch in a digestive coma. But last night we were both feeling antsy. I wanted to take him to a place just around the corner called The Chanter. Despite living here for around 3 years, it's a place neither of us had been in, and I first discovered it with Blonde H on her birthday when the Brothers dropped us off there. Very studenty atmosphere, cheap booze, and decent music. We had originally just gone for one pint so I watch Bring Back Star Trek with Justin Lee Collins (geek, I know), but we were having a good time, some one quickly turned to two. After racing home to use the toilets (because why use the public bar ones when your own are just as far away?) we decided to keep the party going at Whistle Binkys.

Scottie Loves Whistle Binkys because he <3s live music. So off we went. That night, the performing band played covers of Rock- Led Zepplin, Guns n Roses, Metallica, and the most interesting thing I saw was the group f people totally digging it.

There was the Lil' Old Librarian- salt and pepper hair curled back into a conservative bun, thin, lithe frame hidden beneath a home knit sweater 8 times too big for her, little glasses perched on her nose, swaying by herself in a desperate attempt to keep time to the beat of Breaking the Law.

There were the Leather Clad Suaves- men in their 50s donning the leather jackets, slicked back hair and shiny shoes, violently playing air drums and bashing their heads around like an angry wasp had flown through their ear and was playing havoc with with brain.

There were also the Moms- middle aged women who looked like they could be anyone's mother, sashaying around in long, brightly coloured skirts and tee shirts looking like they were having a girly night out with other mums on the PTA board.

And all of them were hardcore loving the Rock vibe. Rock on.

Saturday 9 May 2009

Dude- hand winding 440 yrd hanks of lace weight wool is a bitch. I would NEVER wish this upon anyone. Expect maybe my boss at the NHS....and the bastardos at Bailey Gifford.

One down, 3 more to go.

I really don't want this blog to turn into a knitting blog, because I think that will be very boring for everyone who reads it and doesn't knit (read: just about everyone), but so far, knitting is the only thing I'm doing with my life these days while I wait for the paper work to do through so I can start my Library position.

Today was a knitting adventure quest failure.

I woke up in the morning as I always do, switched on the ol' lappy, and sat down with a cup of coffee to peruse through the new blogs that had appeared on my Google Reader, and saw that one was from one of my favourite wirter/knitters, Viridian Flare had started on a sweater that I'd had queued for ages. I would like to say that great minds obviously think alike. The only thing holding me back from casting it on was that 1) I didn't have the yarn for it and 2) it was a pattern that cost money. And I hadn't quite brung myself to accept that I was at the point of knitting desperation that I needed to start buying patterns. That is until I noticed on Ravelry that the pattern for the sweater is also given for a LACE weight yarn...just like the 16000 yards of forest green lace weight Gloss yarn mi madre had sent over for Easter.

Jesus had spoken and his words were 'spend money you don't have on your addiction.' Yes, Sir!

Now the next problem was finding somewhere with a yarn winder so that the 4 hanks of lace weight yarn could become sexy balls of untangled lace weight yarn. And it was here that Jesus started fecking with my soul.

I figured that boutique knit shop, which SELLS HANKS OF UNWOUND YARN would have one. Negative. And after asking the nice lady behind the counter, I was informed that NO WHERE IN EDINBURGH has a yarn winder I could use. Merde. So instead I gave into my disappointment by spending 10 quid on two pairs of Addi needles. Bad, bad, bad!

So having failed at finding a yarn winder, I guess I'll have to muck in and do it the hard way- by hand, giving myself self-induced carpal tunnel. Stupid projects, why can't they just be easy, straight-forward, and force me to SAVE money rather than spend it all?

Friday 8 May 2009

Yeah, you can add

-Can of Koppaburg Pear Cider; expired August 2007

to the list of expired items I've consumed this week.

<cite>Afghanistan's only pig quarantined in flu fear | U.S. | Reuters</cite>: "

Afghanistan's only pig quarantined in flu fear


KABUL (Reuters) - Afghanistan's only known pig has been locked in a room, away from visitors to Kabul zoo where it normally grazes beside deer and goats, because people are worried it could infect them with the virus popularly known as swine flu.

The pig is a curiosity in Muslim Afghanistan, where pork and pig products are illegal because they are considered irreligious, and has been in quarantine since Sunday after visitors expressed alarm it could spread the new flu strain.




That's right. Because pigs spontaneously bust out with the swine flu, just like the Human Torch can spontaneously burst out in flame. It's all an elaborate, evil plot by pigs everywhere to microbiologically wreck revenge upon the human population for eating them for so many years.

It's no secret that I'm known amongst my friends as being somewhat overtly frugal (not including when I'm around yarn). During my time at university, I was constantly heckled for the sometimes outrageous lenghts I would go in order to save a few dollars. Eating expired food was one, as was sustaining myself on beans on toast for few months, hitting up every and all events that advertised anything 'free' (India night? I see you have free Samosas...Discover Buddhism? Is that free tea?) I even camped outside a local 'Historic Day' event while I was supposed to be working just to snag a piece of free cake, and forced a bunch of friends to accompany me to a 'free food' event at our college, where all we had to do was sacrifice our dignity and self-respect by posing for cheesy photos and participating in 'ice breakers'. You mention free, and I am so there.

And while I get teased for this it's good to know that I'm not alone- apparently everyone on my grandma's side of the family is just as keen to save a few pennies.

Like my cousin. She is also an avid knitter and entered some of her projects in the local county Fair. My mom, speaking to her on the phone, dropped that she hadn't been to a fair to see a family contribution in ages, and might consider driving down (like 3 hours down) to see it. Cousin was quick to mention that the fair was costly (around $8 or so) to get into, and that rather than spend money on an entry ticket, my mom should do what she always did- go on Thursday, which is cookie day, and bring a large donation of home baked cookies. That way, you totally get to get in for free!

I, personally, see nothing wrong with this- I mean come on! Pay for fair entry with cookies? Brilliant. I'd do it. My mom, on the other hand, isn't exactly cut from the same domestic stock that we are- in fact, I can't even remember the last time she baked cookies that didn't come from a pre-made Philsbury package.

So at least I'm not alone in my world of hyper frugality and thrift. Rock on.

Thursday 7 May 2009

I realise that I've been eating a lot of food lately that are long past their expired date. But to be fair, fresh food costs money, and I don't really have a lot of that at the moment, seeing as how I
stupidly ran away from decided I needed a break in between jobs at the NHS and the NLS. This extra time, while giving me plenty of time to knit to my hearts content, has also left me to forage around in the dark abysses of the cupboard for edibles. So far I have found and consumed

  1. Bag of popcorn, best used by August 2008

  2. Bread, failing to notice until slice 3 that it was speckled with little blue dots of mould

  3. Cheese, equally covered in mould, which I simple cut off before putting on the unknowingly mouldy bread

  4. Tea, best used by October 2008

  5. Bengal Lentil Mix from Trader Joe's that my mom sent across 2 years ago with an expiry date so faded, it's tough to tell it's for last year, this year, or 10 years in the future


What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?

Tuesday 5 May 2009

Spring is here in the burgh! Spring is one of my favourite seasons because of les fleurs. And Edinburgh is chockablock full of them. On Sunday, Scottie's parents came over early, and while Scottie was away at the gym pumping iron, the 'rents and I headed off to the Edinburgh Botanical Gardens for an indulgent walk amongst the blooms. Because it was Spring, the garden was in full colour. The Meadows are also in full bloom, and there is nothing I love more than sitting out in the meadows, knitting under the sun, listening to the random Hippie guitarists, and watching the pink and white blooms float magically down in the breezes.Ahhhhhhhhhh. So that was this weekend- Knitting, reading, and sunning. It was a great way to relax after the hell that was last week. And even though I am not working just now, I am super busy with all the stuff I wanted to get finished but was too exhausted to do.
1) The Knitting- This will never end. But I am thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis close to finishing up the pieces for my hoodie, and I just need to get half a sleeve done and the hood before I can sew the thing up. Then I will have finished my first garment.
2) Birthday Knitting. I realised that I am one month away from a best mate's birthday, so the hoodie knitting is taking a wee rest while I pump out something. I'm not sure I like it though..more on that in June when 'll post the pics on Ravelry.
3) Reading. Normally I have been too tired to even come home, lay in bed, and read, but now that I am taking a working break, I can FINALLY indulge in the books I naughtily bought with my naught money(he he British play on words there) and even more naughitily bought more of today. Shame, shame!.
4) Cooking. I have been meaning to make this saurkarut chocolate cake for ages since I impulsively bought a massive jar of saurkarut for my 4 dinky hot dogs. And as delicious as saurkarut on toast is, the jar is taking up precious space in the mini fridge and needs to be consumed. Cake, you will be made.

Such a little miss home-maker!

Friday 1 May 2009

There is definately a strong female pressance in our section of the NHS. In fact, now that Tom's been sacked, there are only 3 blokes in the whole opperation. Now, there is this stereotype of the female secretary, and little female office underling, but after a week back at the NHS, it's very clear to me why. We can do what men can't- multi-task at a high velocity.

I have several case studies on this.

1) While in the endoscopy secretary's office, I realised that I was witnessing her speak on the phone to an IT man to fix her computer while printing out 5 individual clinical lists for me. Doesn't sound impressive, but there is NO WAY my lovely Honey could have done the same thing. Heck, when he's on the phone, he has to leave the room in order to avoid any distractions. And if I try to tell him while he's on the phone to his mom that I want to speak to her after he's done, he waves his hand at me all annoyed-like, asks her to repeat whatever it was she said to him on the phone, and then afterwards, when he's hung up, says he doesn't remember me talking to him. Or, when he's researching something on the computer, he can't be interupted with anything- small talk, instructions, or advice. So in a good way, he's very focused on what he wants to get done and doesn't let himself get distracted- but there is no way he can balance more than one item on his plate.

2) Arron. Arron's work place title is the same as mine. In fact, I took over after him when he moved hospitals, but now he's being made to jump between hospitals to help give aid to the fact that they are so understaffed. At the Western, he does reception. And true to Male form, while he's very good at what he does, he can only to it one thing at a time. If he's on the phone, he is unable to log in patients. If he's phoning up a GP to get a referral, he is unable to make notes at the same time. I have the ability to negoiate with angry patients on the phone while cheerfully logging in arriving patients, and then turning around and printing up hospital labels for the next day's clinic with smooth, easy, translation.

3)Phil and Ross. These two have basically the same job, but at different hospitals. They enter patients onto the waiting list, organise who patient letters informing them of their upcoming appointments, and phone them up for verbal confirmation. But they are unable to even talk about their weekend or what they're doing on Holiday while working. They are either focused on work, silently giving their all to completing the task, or they are chatting away and not doing any work at all because they don't know how to do both at the same time.

Meanwhile, the females of the office are pulling out all the strings, talking on the phone while typing, mailing letters while giving appointments, and keeping abreast of all the work that's happening around them and of what needs to be done.

Multi-task skillz? Oh yeah, the XX genes has it.

This week has been a whirl of emotions for me-

Monday: Still unemployed, sleeping in, and knitting like a bad ass
Tuesday: Happy to have employment, but feeling apprehensive about being thrown into the deep end with the sharks
Wednesday: Absolute hell. Tears, sobbing, see below.
Thursday: Determined to make the day better, Still stressful, but coping
Friday: Excellent. Praise poured from all angles, begging me to stay, quality banter, and actually enjoyed myself.

So there we are. Two days ago, I was rearing to go, about the throw in the towel, and say 'Good luck, sucker' as I stored out in a blaze of fire and angst. Now, I am actually considering going back to do part time work while also working at the Library. Crazy? Yeah, sounds like me.

But the thing is, I managed to SORT OUT EVERYTHING for next week. Get what we needed ahead of time, make the arrangements for notes to be delivered, and got it to the point where we're now back on track. Evil boss from hell who I totally still thinks hates me, gave me a shower of praise in front of everyone and said she would cry now that I'm going. All the secretaries <3 me, and I've made fast friends with the people I got placed to work with. I even opted to walk home (read: 1.25 hours away) with a colleague so we could just chat, and we ended with exchanged numbers, promises to keep in touch, and even have dinner over at each others'. So if I continued to work there, then I know that I will not be starved for company, and if they keep things as organised as I've made them, then the job itself should be relatively easy.

So I am actually thinking of going back.

Good idea? Bad idea? We'll see....

;;

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