Mostly lemon based

Category: General

  • I understand…

    It’s been a bit of a weird day. First up today was ringing Abbey, I wanted to check that I couldn’t just cancel the bankers draft. I can’t, no, but I should be able to just take it back to “a branch” and return it.

    Next up was the WBLD, and yes, it was as much of a waste of time as ever, except that I finally understood how the dis-incentive scheme at the hospital at which I have my placement works; how they intend to drive all the students away. Either that or they really do imagine that they are so utterly wonderful that everyone will be overjoyed just to get a job there that they won’t care if they’re working on the shittiest wards – because they’re not offering people the choice of where to work anymore. Even if you’ve had your placement on a ward with vacancies that want you back; even in that situation, you probably won’t end up working there.

    After some discussion, I think I’ve grasped the concept and I believe that their strategy works something like this:

    (more…)

  • Pre-thought

    Okay.

    If I ring Health Match BC; what are the chances they’d be remotely interested in a newly qualified nurse from the UK. Should I just say ‘fuck it’ and go, if they give me the option it’s certainly tempting. Very tempting.

    I’m sick of being at the bottom of the property ladder. I’m sick of renting; and much though I love Lauren, she’s a great housemate, I really want a place of my own. And the prices in the UK are so fucking steep that it’s beyond a joke.

    It seems like my options are:

    – Attempt to rent place in bristol. This will take at least all of my money, probably more. Will probably involve me moving into a bedsit, packing up 90% of that which I own and becoming very depressed.
    – Continue to search for property in Bristol; I have noticed that the properties available in the current auction do not meet my requirements (or at least, are very unlikely to, one remains a ‘vaguely possible’)… and are pretty near my financial limits anyway.
    – Leave Bristol for the Frozen Northern Plains, and find a house, and a job up there; until I can move to Canada (currently awfully tempting).
    – See if I can coax Canada into letting me come over as soon as I’m qualified and registered (also tempting, but less likely to actually work).
    Anyway, I’ve got uni tomorrow so I should go lie down and be miserable in bed.

  • More thoughts.

    I should have remembered to turn the heating off yesterday, but I got home too late to think about it and just fell into bed. Doh.

    Edit to add: Reasons for feeling ranty also are perhaps related to the fact my assoc mentor yesterday told me *not* to bring in stuff to go through with her, but to go through it with my main mentor. Then today had a go at me for not bringing it in when it was quiet ‘cos she could have gone through some of it. AARRGH.

    Anyway, auctions are less fun than expected. Well, to be honest, I didn’t think it’d be much fun; but having some pillock bid only 6k from his upper limit as the first bid (and distressingly only 3k from mine). Well, that was frustrating.

    I’m not so much pissed off that I didn’t get the house, in the sense of pure unadulterated pissed off. Because it went for so much more than I could afford, and so much more than it was worth (even by the surveyor’s reckoning. I didn’t even think it’d be worth that much*) I more feel like the person who bought it paid over the odds and will end up regretting it when they get there and find it’s a big damp box with no roof, electrics, plumbing or heating.

    Anyway.

    Bitter much?

    No, what really bugs me is now I have to go through now:

    – Probably: Finding a house to rent (after Lauren moves)
    – Finding another house I actually want to buy that’s in my price range (the two on the next auction aren’t great. There’s one listed which might be a ‘possible’. I’m suddenly tempted to move where property is much cheaper).
    – Getting the bankers draft converted back into money in my account, which, I’m told, is not simply a matter of destroying it (indeed, entirely the opposite); nor taking it back to the bank and having them destroy it. Oh no, it’s a pay-to-solicitor-get-them-to-pay-me-back game.

    And then the *whole* process of checking out the house and blah, and blah, and *BLAH*.

    Meh.

    * But there were some spectacularly stupid people there going ‘oh, this one looks nice’ and pointing at it – and some of them were involved in the bidding. Yes, it *looks* nice on the outside. So’d a cardboard fascade if I was quick enough to take the picture *rolls eyes*. If I’m ever selling a house by auction I’ll nip round with some poster paint the day before they do the auction catalogue and make it look way nicer than it is.

  • Nyet

    I didn’t get it; however someone did buy the world’s most expensive lemon, at £97,000… Ah well, next time. Freakily, the lass from work did turn up and was sat with her boyfriend(?) a few rows away. Still, at least it was the first lot so I could leave afterwards and my entire evening hasn’t been wasted. On the other hand the pissy experience of having to get the bankers draft converted back into money in my account awaits….

    Meh.

    The search begins again.

  • And today I’m exhausted.

    I did nothing useful last night. I watched Due South and Northern Exposure. Got very introspective (which is not uncommon for me) and generally sat around wondering what I’m doing. Looked at Vancouver and Toronto again. The actual availability of jobs *before* I move, in Vancouver is very appealing. Hrm. Lots of thoughts. I think it’s the whole ‘going to visit’ thing, and actually looking at flights and seriously considering things which means that I need / want to make more of a decision. Bleh.

    Both have advantages, both have disadvantages, both are pretty equally appealing. Nyurk. Thinky thinky.

    Heh.

    Of course, I’m probably still thinking like a Brit. But then I don’t know any other way to think. I was meant to work this morning, on my dissertation, so that I had more to present to my dissertation supervisor. I’m so tired though. I’m trying to get some enthusiasm for lunch, but I suspect that what I’ll take’ll ve exactly the same as yesterday (block of cheese, salad, pitta, funyuns (*waves at Rachel*)). And dinner may well be the 8p packet of instant noodles (chicken curry flavour) and some toast.

    Why two meals? Because my dissertation meeting is at the time I’d normally drive to work. And having my lunch before I leave at 10:45 doesn’t appeal.

    I finally watched the end of Kasimashi yesterday; it’s very sweet. It actually *is* very sweet, and I kinda liked it.

    Frustratingly, Ais invited me to watch the Presidents of the USA; who are in Nodnol on May 20th. I’ve not been out to a gig for years, I’m going to the theatre and to a gig. Two weekends in May. In the entire fracking year I’m busy in the evening with something I can’t move, and they put their gig on one of those nights! Swine people. *meh*. I think I need to clone myself so I can do more things.

  • Self frustration

    You know what frustrates me most about myself; at least at the moment (last night it was my inability to sleep while thinking “argh argh am I really going to buy a big damp box? How am I going to finish my dissertation? This mattress really needs turning but that’s lots of hastle”)?

    Well, it’s that I think lots. I think lots, but I’m really crap at expressing it. I’m crap at writing it down, when I try to talk to people about it I find that my language skills fail me staggeringly. I think it comes from my generation’s abuse of the English language; we’ve no longer got the verbal dexterity to really express a lot of emotions. The example that leaps (screaming and shouting) to mind is the word Awesome.

    Well, what is Awe? Here, let’s look it up: Fear; Striking fear and reverence. In the immortal concepts of Eddie Izzard, how is a hot dog awesome?

    Our language has been used and abused and I think it’s a result of that which has lead to our lack of skill at expressing ourselves. Well, mine. Other people seem to manage. I often find myself saying things and thinking “that is completely inadequate to express what I’m feeling / thinking / wanting to say”.

    Perhaps I just suck at expressing myself.

    That and I sound like some pretentious tosser when I try. Meh.

  • I believe that’s what’s called a ‘learning experience’

    So, back to work today. Much fun of the “oh my god you cut off all your hair… it looks really cool” variety. I like looking good. I don’t often feel that great about myself. Well, moreso these days, but today was like “commentathon”, which was fun. And my hair? It needs trimming anyway.

    Also lots of talk about the potential house. Someone at work was:

    “Oh my god I can’t believe you’d even consider living there”.

    But she drives me nuts anyway. Everyone else was really startled and doing the whole ‘what the fuck?!’ when she did that. But anyway, completely ignoring her after work I left and headed into Bath. I had the choice of driving to my branch in Brizzy, driving nearer to Bath city centre or walking, from work, into Bath. Walking seemed like a great idea.

    The traffic is always lousy in Bath, and then I’d have to find somewhere to park… Not driving at all saves on fuel. Ignoring, obviously that I slept appaulingly last night and was completely wrecked after work I set off. In the rain. 2.5 miles doesn’t seem a lot normally, in fact, it’s a teeny distance. But after a day stood up at work? Maybe not so great on the plan front.

    I did however get my Bankers Draft. It’d disappointingly like a normal cheque; and I discovered that to get my money back into my account having had the draft written I actually have to get it paid into the account it’s written for and then have them pay me back. What the fuck?! *sigh*. Hopefully I’ll win the auction and then that won’t be an issue!

    Anyway, by the time I got back to the car (5 and a bit miles later, as my navigation in Bath was of it’s usual standard) my shins were aching; by the time I got home both my legs were sending daggers of ‘please stop driving’ all over the place. So. Yes. We learned something today. We don’t do that again.

  • Y (that meme)

    Comment on this entry and I will give you a letter. Write ten words beginning with that letter, including an explanation of what the word means to you and why.

    Kara gave me the letter Y. Things beginning with Y. Jeeze Kara!

    1) Yellow. This is a bizzare one; Yellow is by no means a favourite colour of mine, but somehow it’s quitely lurked in my life since I’ve lived away from home. Back in Bishopston the corridor ended up being yellow (by my choice); the next house I think had a manky yellow kitchen; the house after that had a yellow lounge, here? Well, just Yellow curtains. But given that I currently live in rented places; yellow is an odd colour to encounter. It’s a bit too vivid for most rented places, and yet there it is.

    2) Yank. Trey. Trey made a huge impact on my life; coming into my existance at a time when I was actually starting to get a grip on being on my own; and there she was. She turned my life upsidedown; and I’m still reeling from the effects. Suddenly my cosy little existance was blown out of the water; my closed off little world was opened and I found myself in a state so big it completely broke my sense of scale. I stood in snow deeper than I’d ever been; saw mountains so huge that my previous experiences seem but big and pretty hills.

    3) Yehudi Menuhim. Well, he’s kind of standing in for Classical music. My parents raised me on a strict diet of 60s, 70s, 80s and Classical. The first record I remember, and the record I prize most highly is my dad’s very worn copy of the New World Concerto. It’s crackly and scratchy, but when I hear it I can see my dad there. It’s got his tiny little ‘DE’ in green ink in the corner. My dad and mum taught me to appreciate classical music; and one of my dad’s favourites was Yehudi Menuhim. Incidentally, the only problem with classical music is it suffers very badly when you compress it; and… it sounds terrible so I don’t tend to listen to it except when I’m ‘free’.

    4) Yes. Yes is something I changed about my life a couple of years ago. I suddenly realised that fear was stopping me doing a lot of things. It still does. I’m still painfully shy and yeah. BUT, one thing that has changed is now if people ask me if I can do something, the default answer is ‘Yes’. I presume I can do anything – at least, assuming that there’s no reason I know I can’t (this is obviously less true at work!). It’s one of the most positive things I’ve ever done; of course, there are still moments of hideous self doubt, but it’s much less debilitating than before.
    5) Yoke. A Yoke is part of a motorcycle… and we know what motorcycles are to me? Fun. Fun and cheap transport. Of course, mine are money sucking evil things. But *other* people’s motorcycles are fun cheap transport. This may have something to do with my obsession with MZs.

    6) Yeast. When I was young I made ginger beer; a component of this was Yeast. I used to sell it at the school fair :-)

    7) Yield. I used to be very… weak. I would yeild to anyone and anything. These days I’m somewhat hardier; like some sort of thin sticky tree on a mountain, my life’s given me a good hard battering and I’ve come out of it tired, but much stronger than if it’d all been easy.

    8) Yelp. That’s what I do when I’m startled. Some might call it a shriek. I’m always astounded at just how high pitched my voice really is; I’m hardly a femmy girl, and my voice – on the phone I get mistaken for a bloke now and then (particularly when ordering bike or car parts); and then… I get surprised by one of my more evil friends and I let out an ear-piercing glass-shattering yelp. Yeah. So, uh. Don’t do that, m’kay?

    9) Year-book. Our school did a yearbook. Reading through the signatures people daubed on it, at my behest, before I left school is desparately depressing. It’s obvious that people didn’t really know me or have any idea who I was. I might as well have had a photo of Wilma for all it mattered. *sigh*. I guess it shows how far I’ve moved on though, I now have friends that do know me, and care about me (and I care about them).

    10) Yare. Apparently ‘Yare’ means ‘dexterous’. That’s me. I’m not saying anymore.
    I wish I could’ve found a way to use Yataghan, but hey, I can’t manage everything :-)

  • Lacking in title

    I’m in the weirdest mood. I should be working, I’m aware of that, but I just feel vaguely distracted and; well; not entirely 100% there. I want to do *something* but I’ve no idea what, I’m kinda tired, I’ve got about 1000 words of Dissertation done which isn’t really enough. I ended up watching Dr Who (that is such a sweet episode) and then flumping through my music video collection watching things almost at random.

    I kinda want to listen to music, but I’m just… blah, really. I’d like to listen to music and lie downstairs reading a good book, but I’m slightly too tense to do that. The house auction is this week, and I want to know the result. To quote talking heads, I feel tense and nervous and I can’t relax (although, I’m not, as far as I know, a psycho killer).

    I think I’ve just got a lot on my mind (do I ever not have?); the LHD bits arrived for Rebecca (not entirely helpful in some ways, ‘cos I can’t *do* anything with them but look at them and go ‘ah’). I’ll probably ask Lauren if I can use her yellow paint to mark it as an LHD part.  But that – and the stuff I was saying after the weekend – has left me very thoughtful. My future lies before me, but at the moment it’s all slightly unattainable. Worse than that, there’s nothing I can really actually *do* about it.

    I also found, if I book direct with KLM or Air Canada then the flight to Toronto is actually *cheaper* than paying a chunk with Nectar points. Even more frustrating; the cost of flights from Toronto to Anchorage, which I was kinda hoping to do to visit Kara, Kaisa and Trey (et al.) adds 700+ dollars! Err, which is 350 extra quid. So it’ll cost me 300 quid to fly from the UK to Toronto and 350 quid to fly from Toronto to Anchorage? (Although it is *actually* about the same distance. Meh). Anyway. Yes. Hrm. I was thinking, well, hell, I’ve got 10,000 points on this Nectar card for me to just ‘spend’ then (although we’ll save that thought until we get the flights booked) – and y’know what? I discovered that 7,600 points gets you a 30 quid dvd. *sigh*.

    I think something may have changed in the Nectar points system.

  • At the late night double feature picture show…

    Heh.

    This month (it now being may) I propose to spend a lot of money I don’t have on improving myself, in a cultural way.

    Specifically, I’m going to see The Rocky Horror Show (with Chrissy and Lauren, ‘cos Chrissy is a RHS Virgin (*mwuhahahahaa*)); which I’ve not seen for years; and which is enormous fun. Ra for Audience Participation. If only I could remember more than ‘Arsehole!’. Never mind, it’ll come back quick enough.

    And *then* a weekend later I’m off to see The Arrogant Worms on their (first?) British Tour. The Arrogant worms rock my little world also, and thus this is to be a fabulous experience.

    I’m also hoping to buy a house this week. If I’m lucky. So. Yes. All excitement here. Sorry for the post-spam today, but I’m failing (very effectively) to work on my disseratation. On the plus side I’ve written about 900 words of the 4,500 word middle chapter; which is potentially quite good. If they are good words.