Glad to be Home From Austin

I returned from Austin four days ago now and I feel I've only just recovered some sense of normality. I'm really glad I did the event but it was incredibly hard work and I felt like I earned every single penny. Working 12-15 hour days in a windowless, wood-panelled room mainly by myself and only eating when someone bought me food, I was so busy that it took me hours to eat that food and I didn't stop all day. It was completely exhausting.

When I finished work I would call a taxi and hope one turned up as not one knew where the University was even after I gave them the address (in fact not one taxi driver knew the way to anywhere I ever asked him to go in 2 weeks). I would then give them directions every step of the way and fume when they asked how much change I wanted back) I would then occasionally flick through 40 channels of banality before I crashed out so I could get up at 6.30 to do it all again. Thank God the hotel served Illy coffee cos I would have gone postal otherwise.

I did get 2 days out of the 18 to explore and I can tell you that I wasn't impressed with Austin much. Like most US cities it was sprawling and I think people generally drove to the mall to do their shopping. Nearly every place sold food in some way (takeout, fast food, restaurant, 7-11) and most of the food I had was horrible. Nearly everything had fake cheese on it and lost weight when I was there as I could barely look at some of it. I was offered deep-fried ice cream one evening ("hey, it comes with cream on the side!"). Those poor people didn't have a chance - you would have to have a will of steel to live there!

It was a complete culture-shock for me actually. The ineptitude of the US team was staggering but they whooped, high-fived and congratulated themselves when they did anything remotely resembling competence. The red tape we had to navigate so that nobody got sued was jaw-dropping. The taxi driver at the airport refused to lift our suitcases because he didn't have any medical insurance and the competitors had to sign waivers for 100 things before they could do anything. It was most odd. 

We did find a few gems on the faculty though. People we hadn't even known about suddenly appeared and went over and above board to save the day. They were amazing and, whilst the rest were completely out of their depth running an international event of that size, without these gems, the event would have failed in my opinion. They were completely undervalued and underused at the university and were thrilled to get to get to use some skills for once. 

There were a few good moments though. The people were at least friendly, the weather was nice most of the time, I had a laugh buying my cowboy hat and watching people dancing to live music, the margaritas were amazing (they free-pour over there!), the Four Seasons was obviously fantastic and my bed was like a huge marshmallow with clouds for pillows, I liked seeing squirrels clambering everywhere and the buses were cheap.

I'm truly glad I had the experience, and I'd do the next one in London if asked, but I didn't really like Austin much. From being made to stand in a booth with my hands behind my head and then fingerprinted and photographed like a criminal at customs, to the ineptitude and greed of the taxi drivers, half and half, and the lardy food, I'm glad to see the back of it to be honest. I'd still like to see some more of America, but Texas wasn't for me I'm afraid - maybe I'm more European than I realised.

My home for 2 weeks

I'm back to work tomorrow and, having made some big changes to my business just before the event, I'm looking forward to seeing how that pans out. Spring also seems to have finally arrived in Blighty and next week is predicted to be fine and sunny which is something to look forward to. I'm very happy to be back to my cats, Italian coffee pot, TiVo, the cinema and my darling seaside town though.

PS: to my American blogger friends, please don't take this post as a criticism of you. I've only been to two places in the US and am just saying how I personally found the experience. We have plenty to moan about here and, if you'd love to come and visit, I would be delighted to show you around and see what you hate too! 

Our Never Ending (Treacherous) Winter

It's the end of March and most of the UK is deep in snow. winter in Britain is (or always feels) very long and the cold dreary grey months never seem to end. A week ago it was looking promising with Spring flowers starting to bloom and there was even a couple of days where I left the house without a coat. But now winter is well and truly back.

The snow hasn't hit Brighton of course because we're in the south east which gets the mildest weather  but I have to admit I feel somewhat disappointed as I really, really love snow. It's not so fun trudging around in it (although I have some of those rubber grippy things that sip over your shoes with studs on the bottom - this freelancer 'aint breaking anything) but I work from home so to be toasty in my flat working on my laptop with the snow falling softly outside is just dreamy. 

Whilst I was in France (shit, I need to write that trip up!) it snowed like a bastard here.  Apparently it came down hard and fast and caused travel chaos like never before - and then it was gone. Yup, it came and went within 24 hours just in time for my return. On one hand this was great as it meant my trip went smoothly with no cancelled flights or trains, but on the other hand I was gutted. I've only seen a little bit of snow here this year and I feel a bit short-changed to be honest.

I went to the shop to get the paper earlier and the Jordanian lad behind the counter said he'd been in the UK 4 years and had never seen summer. He jokingly said that even on one of our 'summer' days it was cold. I've been to Jordan so I can accept his opinion on that - it's as hot as the fricking sun there so I feel his pain. I felt it my duty to apologise on behalf of the entire nation so we're covered there, but I really felt for the poor guy. We're used to months of endless disappointment (in every sense; politically and weather-wise) but he expected more.

On the news last night they showed cars buried in snowdrifts 16ft high. Now we usually call a national emergency when there's 4 inches of snow so that really gave the news 'reporters' something to orgasm over. Nobody seems to know how to drive in ice and snow here, so obviously idiots slip and slide everywhere and crash into other cars and ditches, but these poor people had lost their cars to the snow completely. 

I also have a real bugbear with the word 'treacherous' being used on the news at every opportunity. "Treacherous conditions", "it's treacherous out there", grrrrrrrr....it really gets on my nerves. They use it in every single weather story at least 2 or 3 times and It's usually said without a hint of irony within 20 seconds.

It's 0 degrees here today with a wind chill factor of -5, but to be honest we Brits love it and as soon as it gets hot (over 20 degrees) we'll complain about that as well!

For Sale: One Boyfriend

Living with someone really does have its downsides sometimes. I've never really liked sharing a home and living with just one man is even harder.

I write this because last night I had around 4 hours intermittent sleep because my boyfriend came home again drunk, woke me up, then proceeded to stink the room out with the smell of stale alcohol seeping out of his pores, kept whacking me in the face or ribs with his dead-weight lack of spacial awareness, then snored and snuffled until I eventually left the room to sleep on the sofa.

I'd only been asleep about an hour before he got in as I'd sat up late reading. Often he will go and sleep on the sofa (many arguments about this made it so) but when I got up his mate was already asleep there. After being unable to get back to sleep I eventually got up again, sent his mate home and tried to sleep on the sofa. 

But no, my boyfriend then comes bowling through to use the loo before I've slept a minute. Later the cat wakes me up, then he wakes me up again a bit later. I'm knackered.

This used to be quite a regular occurrence. My boyfriend isn't an alcoholic but he loves nothing more than spending anything from 4-8 hours drinking with his friends. Having run a pub for a few years, I find this dull. I've never been a great drinker and find drunk people boring and boorish. But he loves it. we've very different in general but frankly I don't care what he does as long as he leaves me out of it.

I'm really annoyed about this. He's in there sleeping like a baby, and I'm now up having decided it was pointless trying to get back to sleep. Last time he did this he said "but I didn't mean to" to which I replied "I know you didn't - you didn't mean it last time and you won't mean it the next time you do it, and the time after that, and the time after that." And he doesn't, he just keeps effing doing it!

He doesn't do it that often I guess - anything from 1 to 4 times a week and I usually like him being out in the evening so I can have time to myself and catch up on TV on Demand! I'm a homebody and he likes to go out, but I don't know of any friend who would be happy about her boyfriend coming in anything between 2 and 5am stinking of booze so she has to sleep on the sofa.

One of the big downsides to living with someone?

Fucking DVLA

I'm so frustrated I could cry - in fact I just have.

To get my driving license I need a provisional license. I have a provisional license but my surname and address have changed so I need to send off for another one. Which could take up to 3 weeks to arrive. It's already been a week and still nothing.

However, my driving instructor can teach me as long as he has proof that I already have a clean provisional license. But because I can't remember where I was living 23 years ago, the DVLA won't help me. This means I have to wait another 2 weeks until my license changes into my new name (I changed my name by deed poll 10 years ago) I'm really pissed off.

I can appreciate that they need to know that I am who I say I am, but I'm so utterly frustrated and upset that I don't care at this moment. This client wants me to have my license as soon as I can, and he will not be impressed that he now has to wait even longer for this to happen.

I'm pretty sure that I lived with my parents when I was 17 and this would be the address on the license. However it is not. I have NO idea what address would be on there and I'm only allowed 3 guesses anyway. So I will have to call every single day to find out if they have changed my license over before I can even bloody start.

To be honest it's the final thing in an utterly shitty day. Today my heavy bike fell over and the chain fell off, the lock then failed to close and I had to abandon it at a friends. It's been nothing but hassle with that bike - it's too heavy, it was overly expensive, I've paid to have the tyres replaced and now the bloody chain is off. I'm selling it as soon as I get it back to the house.

Then a client said they no longer needed me and I already have hardly any work as it is. Then I found out that I have to wait up to another 2 weeks to even start driving lessons. It'll probably be weeks until I can even get a test date and if the client waits that long for me then it will be a miracle. 

Feeling utterly depressed, despondent, and down. Why is it that everything is always such a fucking hassle for me? Throw me an effing bone for God's sake.

Another Cat-Related Post

And it turns out that little Dillinger is not only the thickest kitty in the area, he's also the most expensive.

The poor little fella keeps getting bullied by a new cat in the area and it looks like he's coming off worse. He's had 2 abscesses in 6 weeks and the new one just cost us £200 at the vets getting it sorted. He's stuck inside until his check up on Tues and he's literally climbing the walls.

Lucky he doesn't realise how ridiculous he looks with half his face shaved. He's like a Picasso painting and laughing at him is taking the edge off his constant wailing and moaning... slightly.

He has insurance now but it's £200 too late. I think we should either rehome him or put him to work to contribute towards his upkeep. He doesn't lift a finger around the house and is often a hindrance more than a help when I'm changing the sheets. He's turning into a liability and he's not even grateful.

I'm swapping him for a puppy.

Lost - One Work Ethic

I really hate to moan about BBF and, to be fair, there isn't that much to complain about. Overall he's amazing - he's a brilliant cook, he's thoughtful, funny, interesting, clever... but he really is the laziest person I've ever met.

His lack of drive, motivation, and ambition really is something to behold. He got in after 3am last night as he went out to see some bands with his mate. This means he now won't be out of bed until around 11ish. Again.

This is not unusual behaviour you see. After a year of being together  I'm coming to terms with his lack of work ethic but, in truth, I find it extremely unattractive and not particularly admirable. I don't know why I can't just let it go but I've found it quite hard to get my head around what a lazy arse he is. It's a quality of his that I really don't like.

Nearly every night he says he wants to go to bed early so he can get up early and get on with some work, but in reality, this has happened around twice since I moved in a year ago. He's eternally optimistic that this will happen but he's simply too lazy to make it so. 

Once, I even thought there might have been a carbon monoxide leak - except for the fact that I was up and out of bed after 8 hours sleep! I just let him get on with it now. Nagging him is pointless but I've started to feel like my Mum saying at midday on a Saturday "get up, you're wasting the day". Maybe I should set the fire alarm off...?

40 In A Week, 60 The Week After

This post may seem like a whole load of nothing if you are over 40, but I am not (for exactly another week anyhow) and I'm feeling somewhat surprised and disgruntled about the situation I find myself in.

I know this sounds like a huge cliché, but I was just 14. I was just standing in the playground with my friends with back-combed hair in the shortest navy skirts we could get away with, discussing how old we would be in the year 2000 - and now the Millennium was 11 bloody years ago! How did that happen? It is unthinkable.

Then I was around 28, suddenly I was 35 and now I find myself on the brink of 40. I've mentioned before that I'm aiming to live until at least 85, so I'm nearly half way through! Half way to the end. What the fuckety fuck?! I daren't close my eyes tonight because I feel certain I'll wake up and be 47. 

Of course we all get older but I am shocked at how quickly it seems to have happened. The view of my face in the mirror bears little resemblance to how I see myself. They're the same cheeks that my Mum wiped tears from when I was a baby, the same eyes I unwisely applied blue mascara to as a teenager, the same lips that have created thousands of screams, howls, laughs and kisses, the same face that I have cleansed, plucked, moisturised, inspected and peered at for 39 years. But I somehow can't seem to accurately visualise or project myself back to see myself as I was through those eyes. I can only see me as I am now.

A lot of people are completely comfortable with the idea of getting older, but I think they're either lying or they haven't thought it through properly. Who wants to get old and die? I don't mind getting older in theory, but I don't want to wrinkle up and drift south; I want to be young and sprightly Goddamn it! They say that youth is wasted on the young and they're right. 

I suppose it comes down to the matter of control. I do not like that I will get older and older, until one day I will cease to be. I am extremely unhappy and put out that I have no say in the matter. I don't like being made to do anything and this is the ultimate in lack of control I guess. 

I've been obsessed with dying and the reality of existence since I was very small; I've never gotten my head around the fact that one day everyone will no longer be here. I'm incredulous about this - how can this be? I can't imagine that it could be so. I know that 40 is not old, but It's certainly another milestone on my journey down the road.

My birthday is a time when I get very reflective. I have a little audit and check that I'm on the right track and where I want to be. I'm truly happy that I'm where I am, but as I get older I'm more keenly aware that I'm being shoved rudely along to an ending I'm not keen on. And I'm not happy about that at all.

Suffering Little Children

As mentioned, the only thing that marred our holiday in France was the behaviour of a couple of the kids. There were 4 children altogether - lets call them Dylan, Rosa, Jago and Amelie for 'twas their names.

Dylan and Jago weren't too bad to be fair; they were noisy as all kids are, but they behaved themselves most of the time. The 2 girls however were a bloody nightmare. I am not exaggerating when I say that not 15 minutes passed without some crying, whinging or whining, and I could even hear them over my headphones.

Rosa is 6 and seemed to be fretful about everything; nothing could make her happy and everything she said was in the highest whiniest voice she could muster. At no point did either of her parents say "just stop it. enough already", they just pandered to her and let her continue to irritate the hell out of everyone. Well I say everyone; it seems that if you have kids you somehow become immune to the sound of brat.

They thundered along the corridor outside our room early every morning, and after we were kept awake by them shrieking around in the open plan kitchen, BBF went downstairs to say something and only then did their Mums take them into the designated fully-stocked play room complete with dvd player and everything else a child might need to occupy itself in order to result in a bit of shut the fuck up.

Amelie was the worst; from the first morning the word "Mummmeeee" was repeated endlessly. The reason she constantly repeated every sentence over and over and over and over again was because both of her parents ignored her. She never stopped and her whiny voice was the soundtrack to the holiday really. We wanted to shout "for the love of God just bloody answer her!"

All of the kids except Jago were sick while we were there. Dylan started it all off by projectile vomiting all over the floor, his Mum and himself whilst we were eating dinner. By the time he had finished throwing up half the swimming pool he was ankle deep in it. He then kept going all night and, not wanting to be left out, all the other children followed suit over the next few nights. I know it wasn't their fault but let's just say they were not discreet children.

Never have I been so glad not to have any kids.  You all know I'm not keep on them, but I was constantly congratulating myself for my child-free status. I was so pleased it was not me cleaning up that massive puddle of sick, and the relief I felt when Amelie shat her pants one morning was palpable. Between them they were either being ignored or life revolved around them. At the beginning of the holiday we could have stayed there forever, but by the last day we couldn't wait to leave.

Publish And Be Damned!

I think I've just decided to suck it up and stick with this blog. I can't be arsed to sort out another one and that could get compromised along the road anyhoo. (I love the word compromised, it reminds be of Action films and Star Trek) I'm just going to remain true to form and say what the hell I like. 

So if you know me and I'm having one of those moments that sounds like I want to throw myself from a car park roof, don't reach for the phone because I'm just letting off steam - If I've got a problem then I'll call you so don't worry yourself.

If I know you through freelancing and it sounds like I'm in despair because my business isn't doing very well, then take comfort in the fact that my business is actually doing ok; I'm very busy - I'm just incredibly shit with money.

And if I meet any of you for coffee then, unless I bring it up, don't mention anything you've read on my blog cos they're just moments in time and everything's cool and the gang. I just like to moan a lot.

Be Grateful Dammit!

A few weeks ago I read somewhere about this website where people posted the best things that happened to them that day.  I guess it's a similar thing to the whole 'being grateful' ethos where you give thanks for all the things you have yada yada. 

Although I thought it was a bit lala, I've been trying to be less sceptical recently and decided to do my own version. I've decided that it's all fair and well complaining, bitching, and taking the piss, and I'll definitely still be doing it, but sometimes the last thing people need is someone making everything worse. I'm not going to turn into an irritating happy clapper as it's simply not in my nature, but I am going to try and be a bit more positive - because positive things seems to happen when I am.

Anyway, since the 11th December, I've been keeping a little notebook by my bed and each night I write down the 3 best things that happened to me that day. I've actually really enjoyed doing it as it's made me look back over the day and pick out the good bits - one day the best thing I could think of was that I hadn't fallen over on the ice, but some days I can think of more than 3 good things!

It's started to become part of my daily routine and I think it's making a small difference to the way I look at things. Although I can also remember the shitty things that day, writing the good things down seems to cement them more somehow. 

Random examples have been:

• Being treated to coffee and cake by someone I helped to get work
• The day I made bread, chocolate truffles and peppermint creams
• My oldest friend visiting and helping me explore my new neighbourhood
• Spending a whole day over Christmas in my jamas
• Firing a client
• Signing up to a Pilates course

It's nice to look back at all the entries when I'm feeling a bit shit and I highly recommend doing it. Sometimes it's easy to just think that your life is a bit rubbish, but when you have to write down the best things that happened that day, you realise that actually it's not.

Virgin Media Are Useless

For the last couple of days I've been having a nightmare with the internet. Basically Virgin Media are a bunch of incompetents who can't fix anything this side of Christmas due to their uselessness. The Internet went off 3 days ago and after a lot of faffing around and us thinking it was the equipment, or connection we phoned Virgin who reported  it to be their problem - but not to worry as it should be fixed by the 2nd June... Unfuckingbelievable.

So for the last couple of days I have been going down to a very kind friends house and using their internet all day but I don't want to put them out and it'd be nice to not have to leave the house to go online. Due to the nature of my job, I could get an enquiry, or work sent through at any time, plus all my crochet and craft stuff is on the internet as well as email  - you know how it is. Basically I can't do anything and am hugely inconvenienced.

Last night I discovered that one of the neighbours has an unsecured network which, although not ideal, means that I can at least check emails and write this blog - kinda. I always switch between Internet Explorer and Chrome to write a blog as I can't seem to drag photos around in Chrome. I just tried IE and it won't connect (I only have 2 bars) plus it drops me out every now and again. I'm not sure if I'm going to lose everything as it's not hot on saving either, so I'm just writing all my posts and then inserting pictures later.

I'm trying to roll with it and chill out but frankly it's pissing me right off and I'm both infuriated and a little upset. I know I should get over it but I'm just not going to. I want to do what I want to do and when I want to do it, and that's not happening so I'm a bit peevish frankly. On the plus-side there are 5 hours of Star Trek Voyager on later and I imagine I'll get shit loads of crocheting done!

Bastard of a Day

I'm going to be blunt here - I have had a bastard of a day.

Because I have a banging headache I am just going to bullet point each rubbish thing and then be done with it.

• I didn't get to bed until gone 3 as I was helping with the election count (I'll do a post about that tomorrow as it was pretty good fun and doesn't fit under the shitty umbrella) I had a very late job come in yesterday so I only had around 5 hours sleep.

• I wake up with a fucker of a headache, take 2 Anadin and get down to some work so I can have it done by the time I go out on my second date.

• At some point mid-morning, it becomes clear that most of the country are Tory-voting Satanists.

• I leave the house to meet the date, run for the bus and the arsehole drives straight past.

• I get to the venue, except it's not the right venue and so I traipse round half of Brighton and turn up late - The 'Made in Brighton' film is then actually about the Polish resistance in WWII rather than local short films.

• We have a pleasant drink and lunch, then after walking with me halfway back declares that he's met someone with whom he'd like to take things further - that person was not me.

• I get home and my head is killing me, one of my neighbours kids decides she will then scoot up and down outside the house for 40 minutes shouting wildly to her sister. I could kill her.

• I check Twitter and see that a friend has invited me to see a film; I decide it would be nice to go as it might cheer me up. I then walk down there only to find it is sold out; so they have tickets and I don't. I buy a slice of cake and come home.

Upon my return, my landlady's girlfriend said "oh well, you never know what's around the corner" I agreed, it could easily be a bus.

And I still have an effing headache!

Ask a Stupid Question...

Talking of dumbing down; I cannot believe some of the stupid questions and reporting that gets offered up as 'news' by our TV stations.

A few examples: a couple of weeks ago there was a little kid who was kidnapped in India; they got him back and the reporter was standing outside the grandparents house and was asked by the studio whether they thought the family may be privy to some information that we didn't know about. The answer unsurprisingly, was that yes, they probably knew stuff that we didn't.

Like most of Northern Europe, we have a no-fly zone over the UK at the moment due to the Icelandic volcano eruption, and yesterday they paid for reporters to travel to each airport to tell us that no planes were flying out. and look - there's nobody here! After the first empty airport story, each subsequent reporter basically started their story with the line "well, it's as similar story here..." no, not similar - it's THE SAME story. What a waste of time - the poor bastards are still camped there so that they can show us a plane leaving at some point.

They were quizzing an airline representative this morning as to whether it was really necessary to cease all flights because passengers were being disrupted and were getting unhappy. The poor fella patiently explained again (they've told us a 100 times why already) without pointing out to this idiot woman that this was preferable to the plane dropping out of the sky like a stone.

It usually seems to be women from the BBC that ask these stupid questions, but I suppose having a woman on the news who isn't just eye-candy in a tight top is a good start...

Shonky

Well what a bloody nightmare that was; my prediction was utter nonsense and I couldn't have got it more wrong - it was awful!

Although the location was beautiful and the people of Borth were lovely, the whole festival was a catalogue of incompetence and the disorganisation was staggeringly beyond belief. We arrived on Wednesday evening to find nothing in place except for a few portaloos in the middle of a windy field... The event was due to open on Friday.

what we found when we arrived

In fact, it's probably better to just bullet point my list of complaints instead of a long rant; if I start then I'll not know when to stop!

• Upon arrival there was no solid road and every vehicle was sinking and having to be rescued by JCBs - until the JCBs started sinking. The stones were not laid to create a road until Thursday afternoon, and even then vehicles still sank into it.
• Our office was positioned in the wrong place.
• Our office was unsecured as were the back of the bars; anyone could just come in and help themselves or attack and rob the staff. This wasn't rectified until Saturday.
• The marquees weren't put up until Thursday; you can't put bars, staging and lighting into a tent if it isn't there. They were up so late that our site crew had to work until 3am to finish building the bars.
• Someone came into our office and asked to borrow a carton of milk; when I looked round he had stolen the entire case - welcome to Wales!
• Someone broke into the catering office and stole all the food tickets.
• The water pressure was so low that there was no running water for 2 days.
• We had no generator until Friday meaning we couldn't do any work on our laptops. They then removed the generator on Monday morning even though we weren't leaving until Tuesday - this meant we had no phone batteries or ability to reconcile our figures.
• Twice, people broke into another companies bar and drank their stock.
• Their security were aggressive, incompetent and walked around in groups; they often left their posts and herded families around on quad bikes like they were sheep.
• The security detail on our bars were pretty non-existent; when security were finally allocated they were 2 young girls.
• A lighting rigger took down a set of lights, left them face down on the cabling and the heat ignited it... in a tent.
• The organisers let youngsters into the arena with alcohol; this meant they were drinking underage and weren't buying from the bars. This policy is unheard of at properly organised events.
• We had no Internet reception - not the fault of the organisers but still a pisser.
• The ground was so waterlogged that everything sank.
• There were insufficient toilets for the amount of people camping. In fact, there were no toilets in the crew campsite at all.

That's about it off the top of my head; it was not a pleasant experience - plus it also rained!

So overall, the event was not fun in any way and I spent most of it being cold and wet. I couldn't wait to get home to Brighton and civilisation. On the way back in we passed the park where Gay Pride will be staged on Saturday - it was Tuesday evening and the marquees were already up; this is because the organisers are not idiots!

The next festival isn't for another 3 weeks and we've done The Green Man before so know it's a very well organised event. I also need to spend my time getting new clients and moving house. It wasn't all toss though; I did get some great shots for SkyWatch Friday!