Wednesday, 29 April 2009

Summer's here.

Well, here we are. Another Wednesday - another search through the South Wales Echo for jobs that are non-existent :-S . Oh, well.

So, the world is in terror because of the new 'swine flu' epidemic. Vegetarians everywhere look smug when this sort of thing usually happens (remember bird flu? BSE?) but, from what I've gathered, this flu travels just like any other flu. So everyone watch out for a pig sneezing on you. They're looking to get revenge, y'know. For all the crap you've put their ancestors through.

And ... veggie rant over.

It's a beautiful summer day. Only 2.30pm and I've already had a pretty good day. Applied for lots of jobs, paid the rent, sent out two DVDs, had a surprise visit from two friends who kindly dropped off a Neil Gaiman book for the other half and I to read (apparently we are the last people in the world to hear of him) and did a bit of shopping.

Love, Janis is getting better the more and more I read on. I love this woman. She's so sure of herself and who she wants to be but is trapped in a world that strives for convention. I know how that feels. Yesterday I checked out the new library in Central Cardiff. Very impressive. Couldn't resist checking out a book before I left (Kings & Queens: The story of Britain's monarchs from pre-Roman times to today) and reserving a copy of An Ode Less Travelled by Stephen Fry. I'm hoping if I take a few poetry lessons I can finally learn how to channel my descriptive writing into something constructive and beautiful.

I wish I had a bike. Today really is beautiful. Bike-riding weather. I might take my book to the park in a little bit and sit under the trees. Before I sign off, I'm going to post a link to the DVDs and books I'm selling in case anyone stumbles upon this and fancies a look right here.  

Monday, 27 April 2009

I touch your book and dream of our odyssey ...

Have officially had the most productive day in roughly three months. The last time I finished a day with a feeling like this, I was training for the call centre of a building society and feeling as though I was working towards something.

Today hasn't quite been as successful but has still made me feel smug deep down inside. I cleaned the entire house. Well ... the kitchen, the bathrooms, and half of my bedroom. But it's still about five times better than how I've been spending my time for the last month or so. It's astonishing how empowering one can feel after they've given the toilet and shower walls a good scrub down.

The house has been unashamedly traditional today what with my domestic duties keeping me busy, the better half working on fixing my poor baby (computer) with his techno-geek brain, and then our darling housemate coming home, saying hi, and disappearing into her room for the rest of the night. Have I turned into a housewife and mother of an adolescent already? *shudders* The other half and I fought the conformity by refusing to reinstall Windows on my poor, battered computer, and installing Ubuntu (look at me pretending I know what the hell I'm talking about). Apparently it's a free program, designed by nerds who decided they didn't want to have to submit to the capitalist values of the likes of Bill Gates. Woohoo! Go nerdom!

The anti-Capitalist movement is coinciding with the fact that it doesn't look like I'll be making it to the protest after all. I've decided to travel up to Bristol for the night for a friend's remembrance. One year since Leanne passed. The last 12 months have whizzed by.

Have made it to book number 16 on my "50 books for 2009" list which means I'm ahead of schedule. (Should be reading four books a month to keep on track - As it's not yet the end of April, I win!). Ended up reading "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg. Had never read anything by him before but have now delved into another world of literature. My man has always been into the beatnik generation and, although I've read On the Road, I've never really understood much about the movement. While reading Love, Janis by Laura Joplin, I'm now getting the chance to learn about the beats through a beginner's eyes. Janis is fed up with the conformity society presses on her (to be a good girl, go steady with a boy, get good grades, believe in God, get married, have babies) and has found a new group of friends (mainly guys) that are discovering the likes of Kerouac, Ginsberg and Burroughs, while watching James Dean speak out to them in Rebel Without a Cause. I'm finally understanding why the beatniks play such a vital role in young people's lives. In my own way, I'm connecting to them too. Will definitely be on the lookout for more beat era books to read. Maybe even steal a few from the other half.  

Saturday, 25 April 2009

Women, Interviews & Protests.

Will this sinking feel of being a female ever subside? Knowing that it's scientifically impossible to wake up having gained four stone since the moment your head touched the pillow, why do we continue to wholeheartedly believe that it happens to us? Pre-Aunt Irma. During Aunt Irma. And Post-Aunt Irma. No wonder men think we're nutcases. (Well, my man in particular.)

Read John Gray's Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus and you'll get a step-by-step instruction guide into the psyche of the opposite sex. Which is how I know that when I wake up and complain I look fat, too squishy and all-out gross, my man thinks I'm looking for a solution. Gray's theory is that when women voice their problems, they just want someone to listen. Maybe a little sympathy and comfort. Men only voice their problems when they can't fix them on their own and need help and solutions from others. Put the two sexes together and you get an average relationship: frustration over miscommunication.

Yeah, so it isn't any wonder why I manage to catch that hurt look upon my man's face when I "don't believe" him when he tries to assure me I'm "beautiful and curvaceous" and he loves me the way I am. Technically, his man brain is telling me I'm ignoring his excellent solution/advice to the problem.

But what the hell do men know about our stupid hormones tricking our brains into thinking we've managed to grow four bowls of jelly on each hip? :P

This has probably got a lot to do with my nerves about this evening - an evening with the in-laws. Always a nerve-racker. You'd think after two years I'd be used to it by now. But I'm always afraid that somewhere along the line I'm going to say or do something so infallibly wrong that they'll jump up, demand I never lay eyes on their only son again, and throw me out.

Too much pessimism in the post?

Had my first interview in months last night (9.30pm) for a cocktail bar. Somehow I think I managed to fail that. The guy wasn't impressed that I didn't have any bar experience and when I tried to ease the tension by cracking a joke, he totally wasn't feeling it. Definitely doesn't have my weird sense of humour. Quite intimidating kind of guy, actually. Slicked hair, expensive flashy suit. Kept mentioning he was the only 22-year-old in Cardiff who works 70 hours a week. (My mind: Thanks, butt. Lovely thing to say to someone unemployed.) Got the feeling he's a young guy who's found success at a very young age and has an all-around natural smugness that would be impossible to kick. We'll see what happens anyway.

Finishing this blog off by mentioning that there's a protest going on in Cardiff on the 1st May and if there's anyone out there with an ounce of soul, they should come to it. Protesting the backlash that comes with any other protest - the police finally show their true colours and start viciously attacking innocents trying to stand up for human rights. Always knew the police was fascist cunts - Hunter S. Thompson taught me that. (Read Kingdom of Fear).

Posting the link for all of zero people who read this:


Friday, 24 April 2009


Probably the first and only time I'll ever start something with that word. What is the deal with the whole 'First' thing? Just another meme that never made sense?

The first blog should probably summarise my position in life right now.

Disposition: Happy enough. A little hungover. And hungry (Surprise(!)).

Financial status: Money is, once again, non-existent. But have a promising interview tomorrow at a cocktail bar.

Social status: Still jobless but managed to secure meetups with most of my friends last night. The social gathering quickly turned from a meet'n'greet get-together for food and a quick drink to a sweat-ridden mosh in a smelly underground rock nightclub. The fun never ends.

Missed any opportunity (as always) to do anything remotely productive today due to tiredness brought on by six mile detour home accompanied by strange curly-haired adolescent hurling abuse at friend's little sister. Sore throat is also present as a side dish.

Now sitting in bed with laptop, watching Finding Nemo out of the corner of my eye. I don't agree with cynics who blame Disney for giving children romantic notions of love and encouraging the idea that fairytales come true in the adult world. These films clearly demonstrate that you must take the bad with the good. Yes, the hero/ine has a happy ending but, in all fairness, in order to get to that conclusion, the general rule seems to be that said protagonist get a chance to witness one of their parents fall into a stampede or get swallowed by a barracuda around the 20 minute mark. Name me one Disney film (other than Peter Pan (who has NO parents) and 101 Dalmations) in which the main character has both parents. Yes, the mysogynistic, anti-semitic father of children's films clearly knew how to entertain an audience. We shouldn't complain. We know what we pay for. We want to see a happy ending. Or else we'd have chosen to watch Schindler's List (Although I have no doubt Disney would have happily financed that one, too).

Before I sign off, kudos to everyone at Metros last night who had definitely heard that the bird was the word.