Husbink and the Sunglasses

Once upon a time, Husbink had some sunglasses. Then one of the arms fell off so he got a second pair while keeping the first pair with a taped on arm in case of emergencies.
A short while later, the second pair started to disintegrate. I think this time it was that the lenses kept popping out.

A number of years passed and it became evident that Husbink could not hang on to a pair of sunnies for more than a year, often quite a lot less... One pair fell down a crack between rocks in NZ, another pair had again the continuously popping lenses, another pair I think got left on top of the car... It goes on.

He used to have the same problem with mobile phones though mostly that was actually just one horrendous week when he lost three phones in four days. He had to prove himself capable of keeping one before being allowed his swanky new phone!

On Monday, we went out for a nice walk and then to the designer outlet place on the edge of town. We had the camera with us from the nice walk and Husbink was carrying it. He hooked his sunnies through part of the strap and off we wandered. Back at the car about an hour later, no sunnies...it was all so familiar. The shock, the despair, the questioning, the guilt...

He had had these ones for a little over a year so I guess that is quite enough really and apparently...he never really liked them anyway!

(Apols for delay in posting, partly no brain, partly no time, partly waiting for a non-baby post to present itself!)

I was horrid to the Oxfam man...

So, I'm a little slow moving but seriously, not that slow! Not yet...

I'd just finished my tea nad was reclining on the sofa in the hopes of avoiding indigestion when there was an aggressive knock at the door. To be fair, with our door knocker, it is quite hard to do anything but an aggressive knock. I pulled myself off the sofa, already wondering why I was bothering as it wasn't going to be anyone of interest and toddled towards the door. At which point it was knocked aggressively again. I picked up my keys, went into the hall, the person knocked again...

I opened the inner door while they were still fiddling with the knock, perhaps considering a fourth attempt...

On opening the door and seeing it was an Oxfam man...my irritation did not subside. It perhaps increased and I opened with "I heard you the first time". I paused briefly before continuing with "And we already support you". The man, who was not getting the hint said "Ah, but which project?" to which I replied, "I don't know, I don't really care and I'm so much not in the mood." He'd left our front yard before I shut the door.

I feel bad because he had to pull himself together from the shouting pregnant lady and move on to the next house but...I'm not exactly calm yet.

The thing is, although he riled me with his triple knocking impatience and although I generally find people at the door selling things/asking for money pretty irritating, it was actually my final customer at work today who really got me started...

Twenty minutes before I was due to leave, the phone rang. Normally a lengthy call with us is about five minutes long, ten max so I didn't fob the call off on someone else. I really should have.

It started with "My name is Mrs Blah, I'm actually really rather a regular customer in your shop." Right. Not a good start. If you are regular, you don't need to tell us, we know you. She followed it up by telling me that they live pretty much the length of the country from our store. Very regular.
However, they would be coming next week and wanted to be sure that we had everything they wanted to look at. She proceeded to give a comprehensive list and I was able to find everything she wanted. She then passed me on to her husband. How I wish I had passed the phone on too.
Foolishly, I assumed he would be as organised as her...
He began to waffle on through about half the stock we have, not specifying a colour. Or, indeed a size.
I asked him when we discussed the first garment what size he would like and he said "Hmm, it goes from S-XXL, so I imagine XL, possibly XXL." I told him we had a few in XL but XXL was harder to find and we would be unlikely to have any in but could order them for him. We moved on to the next item. Some trousers. I asked for his waist size and he suggested I was being difficult and asking questions too hard for him. I had to simply reply "ok, we've got a reasonable range of sizes, there should be something..." Back to tops. He told me an item and I said "Ah, we're a bit limited at the moment, we don't have any in in extra-large."
"Extra large? I'm not extra large! Dear me, I never said that, I would never say that."
I paused. Took a deep breath. "What size were you interested in then?"
"XL. Or possibly the one down from that. Never extra-large."

I forced myself to physically smile for the rest of the conversation. It was the only way I could hope that I sounded even vaguely interested or polite. Sadly, I will be in store when they come next week. It might of course be fun to point out what S, M, L and XL stand for...someone suggested he might've thought XL meant extremely luxurious...

A blog on the page is worth two in the head...

You know what it's like...
You haven't blogged for a while. You've got loads of posts in your head. You've even started to write a few of them.
But it has been too long. You can't just come back with an average post now, can you? You must burst back onto the blogging scene. So every post gets analysed and checked and never finished and certainly never published.
So you wait until your brain totally disengages and you just post whatever - like I did on Friday, about the meercats... but still, a blog on the page is worth more than two in the head, right?!

I like silly things....

So I've had a horrid day. Stupid horrid. Things going wrong, being frustrating, wasting my time blah blah blah.
I have been miserable and grumpy and sad and teary and emotional and horrid to Husbink and slightly loopy and...so on.
This evening, Husbink is building our new wardrobe and I have been sitting on the bed doing jobs on the computer. These jobs included quite a lot of looking at various bits of insurance and so on.
So I was going to look at gocompare.com and confused.com and...then I remembered that someone said that if you actually go to www.comparethemeerkats.com as opposed to comparing the markets...you can do just that...
I laughed. A lot. So, so much. I compared two meerkats, one from Honolulu whose hobbie was battle re-enactments and another from Bangkok who was all very arty...
I cried with laughter as I read the list of hobbies that the meerkats had and which I could choose from. Particularly, I liked "martial artistry" and "belly jiggles".
Ok, so if you spend too much time on comparethemeerkats.com, they do eventually send you to comparethemarkets.com but it's still very good silliness. Or it is when you have previously been having a horrid day.

Multitasking? Cute?

So, when I was about seven, my Brownie troop had a float in the Halloween Parade in our town in New Jersey. (For those of you who haven't experienced that kind of Halloween, it is very, very different to any form of Halloween in the UK - a very family friendly occasion and just a good excuse for a family carnival.) So, we were doing Snow White. There weren't enough of us so do it on our own so we joined with another troop...which led to two Snow Whites because it couldn't be agreed who would provide one...
Anyway. I was a deer. Which was quite nice really cos the costume was warm! So, we'd been told to keep waving and smiling all the way along the parade route. I was a very good little girl, so I did. It was quite late at night though (I have no idea how late but I was very sleepy) and so there I was waving and smiling and doing everything I was told...and yawning...
The parade was always on the local TV station and as our float went past the commentary stand, this was the voiceover... "Oh my, I've just seen the cutest thing! A little deer, waving and smiling and yawning all at once!" ...and there was me, fast becoming the celebrity of the Brownie troop...
Fast forward twenty-blah years to last weekend. We were at a friend's wedding in Cambridge. It was a lovely day but pretty exhausting all that standing around (I quickly found that the miracle heels I bought for a wedding last summer that were much higher than I'd normally wear but had lovely padded soles couldn't tolerate the extra stone and a bit I weigh this year...standing around was not at all comfy (fortunately I had spare shoes that were an improvement)) and the chairs were really not all that fab either. So early evening I'm slumped in a chair, Husbink had brought me a cushion from the car and I'm kind of zoning out from proceedings. In my own little world...one had stroking bump, one hand stroking Husbink's back.
Suddenly there's a flash and I look up confused to see one of the bridesmaids smiling..."rubbing bump and hubby, so maternal, so cute!"
The pic is on facebook with a fairly similar caption...
Multitasking? Cute? ;)

Actually, I didn't.

Something has been irritating me about...umm...life? Technology? People? Companies? I'm not quite sure who to blame...

Just now, I switched on the computer, got myself online and saw that my virus software was doing a big update. All well and good, I like it when it updates. This was a particularly big update but they do happen sometimes too so I was not bothered (other than that it was making everything else a little sloooow.) Until the end. When up pings the message "Thank you for choosing to download the XXXXX (virus software) toolbar." What?! I didn't. I don't like it. It gets in the way. It suggests that I was use Yahoo! to search not Google. It takes away the shiny new (ok, not very shiny or very new...) Google page that I had been getting used to whenever I opened a new tab. It generally irritates me. But when I look at whether I can delete it or shrink it or anything else, it emotionally blackmails me "With this, you are sooooo protected. Every webpage you look at is thoroughly checked by my magnificent powers of security. Nothing can possibly go wrong...while you have me!" Ok. Fine. Make my browsing experience a little more irritating and possibly a little safer but don't suggest that I chose this method and Don't Thank Me!

That being the main bit. How many times do you get unsolicited mail/email/phone calls/whatever that start with "Thank you for choosing..." this product, to support this charity, to align yourself with this political party, for recycling your nose hair..... When you did no such thing, made no such decision. Just be honest!

"Hi, This is a piece of junk mail. You don't really want it but we're sending it on the off chance that today is one of those days where you feel like reading everything that comes through the door. It is a good excuse for not doing the cooking/vacuuming/washing up/tidying that you are meant to do. It feels virtuous, reading the post, doesn't it? Well, now we have you in that frame of mind, please can we sell you something/beg for money/play on the heartstrings?

Chances are you aren't reading this so we'll just slip in a couple of insults or inappropriate jokes cos frankly, who is going to care?"

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr................

Rant over. :)

Sorry for the lack of posting. This is mainly because I wanted to do that holiday post that I mentioned before but haven't been in the mood (does anyone else suffer from bursting into Glenn Miller whenever they say "in the mood"?) for it and so haven't wanted to post anything else because then the holiday post wouldn't happen...ah well...

In a total aside, and to leave things on a happy note, have you ever seen a wild puffin? If not, I thoroughly recommend it for the soul, for your well being, for good health and good cheer! I saw my very first puffins while we were on holiday in Anglesey and then we went last Friday to Bempton Cliffs RSPB reserve in East Yorkshire and saw lots more. They make me smile so very much. I must look like a loon peering through binoculars grinning madly to myself. Husbink had the camera and took lots of photos but we don't quite have a big enough zoom yet. But I think you can tell they are puffins. :)

Compulsory Annual Post

So it is Wimbledon again. It seems that something happens that makes me want to blog about it each year...so here we go.

Last night I stayed up (ok, for normal people it wasn't that late but I'd been planning an early night with my book as Husbink was on nights) to watch the Murray match. Having seen at least some of all of his matches so far, I found this one really intriguing - because it felt so much more familiar.

At last, the crowd knew what they were meant to be doing. At last, there were sections that I couldn't watch. At last, I had to walk away from the TV fairly frequently - because I really did have to get other things done and couldn't fritter away the entire evening on a game of tennis.

Watching last week, Husbink and I had both felt that the crowd - including us - didn't quite know what to do with straight sets. This isn't what we are used to from "our man". We are used to agony. When Murray was simply playing fantastic shots, there were cheers, there was applause but it was slightly lacklustre. Once things started to go a little pear-shaped, we were comfortable again. We can scream and shout and cheer. Hanging our heads one minute, pulling out our hair before leaping up in triumph, pumping the air the next.

I'm always a little amazed by the British desire to support the underdog. In some instances, as with tennis matches, this is partly due to the fact that you get a better game if the underdog puts up a fight, but I think there is more to it than that. We feel like the underdog so often (which is a whole other discussion) that we support them whoever they are. When one of ours starts to do well, yes we enjoy it but we don't quite know what to do with it. The Ashes will be at their best if England scrape through. A resounding victory in each Test and we wouldn't know where to look.

I don't want to go through the trauma of the end of the fourth set last night again. I would like Murray to win each match from here on comfortably but for us the spectators, the experience might be slightly dimmed.

PS we were on holiday last week and shortly (when I have done the picture sorting thing) there will be a couple of lengthy posts...including some propaganda)

I have decided

So. The journalism course. That didn't go so well. :s
BUT. In a very helpful sort of way. I'd been pondering journalism (quite a bit at Husbink's encouragement) for quite a long time and, although some of my issues with the course are with the course, I have now established that it isn't something I want to do. I'm not, umm, hmm, thing enough. I'm really not quite sure what thing is. It's not that I'm not curious enough. It's not that I'm not disciplined enough.
If anything (and this is going to sound quite dumb and like I should have known beforehand), it's just that I don't like reading magazines all that much. Meh.
So, I've paid for it, I can't have a refund, I'll still receive all the tutorials. There have been some interesting nuggets in what I've read already so I'm sure I'll read through them all at some point and that what I pick up will be useful so I'm not beating myself up over this. What I am doing is being fairly sure what it is I want to do now. Which is quite a marvel for me!
1) I want to be a mum. Well, durrrr!
2) I want to be a tutor. As I finished with my GCSE students a few weeks ago I realised just how much I enjoy tutoring. I currently have a couple of younger students (who are very hard work) and I briefly had an adult student that I may pick up with again in September. These are both good but it is actually the year 9/10/11 stage that I really enjoy. It is fun maths, easy enough for me to teach and also the bit where many people suddenly realise a flare for some part of the subject. It's great! I know I won't have any new students for a year now (probably) but I know I'll want to go back to it as soon as I can.
3) I want to make a serious go of getting one of my novels published. I will finish editing. I will do my research. I will send it off to all the right people. It may not come to anything but it is certainly not going to come to anything wasting away on my laptop semi-finished. This was the main thing that became absolutely clear from the journalism course. I love to write and I love to write what I love to read - I love to read novels, I love to write novels. I don't love to read articles, I don't love to write articles. Wish me luck!

Silly...

So, lately Husbink and I have talked about names quite a lot. Obviously.
There is an abundance of names for girls that we like we we've stopped talking about them for now as it is just a case of picking one...but boys? Much harder we are finding. So hard that we've pretty much given up on sensible suggestions and are just enjoying being really, really silly.
The other morning I tried to raise the names question again, sensibly. It went ok for a while. We discussed various potential options but none that we were really taken with... Until Husbink suggested "Carl" I can't remember how it came up (oh yes, by this point we'd started listing characters from favourite TV series or films...so this was after Carl Sach in Boston Legal...having rejected Denny and Alan already). So yes. Carl. Which when you put it with our surname...(if you aren't getting it, say it a little faster ) (and apologies if you don't know our surname, this will make no sense. Hey ho.)
I was in a very silly mood by this point and it was all a bit too much. I didn't stop laughing/crying for a long, loooong time.
If it wasn't going to cause lasting psychological damage to our unborn child I would not be seriously tempted to call him Carl. If it is him.
We are not to be trusted with such serious things as naming babies!! We are also considering spelling things with their initials...oh dear...

An Excitable Pregnancy Post

So I've been having lots of nerves this past week - is everything still ok after the scan? Is the baby growing ok? Heart still beating well? Etc...Etc...
So this morning I made Husbink listen to my tummy. He really, really didn't want to because he thought if he couldn't hear anything I'd just get more stressed. I assured him that wasn't possible but that maybe he could reassure me. So after some wheedling, he had a listen. Then pulled a face that really, really alarmed me before saying "do you know what? I think I can hear it!" so after a few moments of chattering, he said "can I listen again?" and this time was very confident that just by sticking his ear against my tummy, he can hear the heartbeat. Very exciting! When he gets home this evening he's going to try to get his stethoscope nicely positioned so I can hear too. :)
I do still have moments of complete confusion at the thought that there actually is a baby growing inside me. It isn't some abstract concept, there really is something in there. Crazy!

I do feel rather sorry for Mr Brown

I know it isn't fashionable and I suspect it isn't sensible but I do feel really rather sorry for Gordon Brown at the moment.
I've had a soft spot for him for years and years since his baby died. (My mum wrote to him as someone who had been through the death of a baby and at that point was working for FSID (Foundation for the Study of Infant Deaths - you know why they prefer to use the initials!) to empathise and received a very kind letter back - not entirely personal but not entirely impersonal either. It was enough to impress me.)
So anyway, I suspect the poor chap should never have become PM under any circumstances but certainly not under the circumstances that he did. And now the world seems to be falling apart beneath him, poor poppet.
He's not an upfront leader type. He's not charismatic. He doesn't inspire people. He shouldn't be there. But now he is do we have to be so horrid all the time? Yes, he should resign and maintain just a little bit of dignity (actually, I think it is too late for that - his only shot at dignity now is for something AMAZING to happen that vindicates everything he's ever done...so holding on and hoping perhaps is *his* best option just now) but please, please, please can we/they/everyone just be a smidgy bit nicer to him while he goes?

Quite the Reverse

So after my whinge about a certain company's poor customer service, I felt it only fair to write about the excellent customer service I've received today, only this time I'll name the company (actually, companies but I shall mostly be praising one...)
So. I haven't been into a Lush store in years. Mostly because of the smell and assuming I'll feel awfully sick if I spend too long in there. Also because I mostly think that they make bath bombs and bits of soap. While these are nice enough, I really don't buy them often. (I know what follows will be preaching to the choir with le Welsh.)
Anyway, I've been looking for a gentle sort of face exfoliator for a little bit now and as I was passing Lush as I left town, I thought I'd stop in.
I wandered about for a pleasant amount of time before I was offered assistance. I explained what I was after and the assistant showed me several options, one of which seemed like just the thing. I was getting prepared to buy some when she said "so I'll give you a sample. Try it out, it might not be right for you in which case you could go this way or that but do try it for a few days before committing". I was impressed enough by this point. Then I remembered to check that everything was ok for pregnant ladies (aside here: I keep hearing half comments about problems with some skin products while pregnant but as yet have found no information on it other than very vague remarks. So I'm assuming that normal stuff is fine!)
I was assured of the nature of all Lush's products and that I'd have no problems but the sales assistant was now very excited to show me lots of lovely massage bars and moisturisers and other yummy things that would be a good thing over the next few months. I had a hand massage and then tried out several other scrubs and moisturisers and and and.
This reminded me that I had actually been looking for a new hand cream for over night as my hands are still really not liking the water in these parts. So we sorted that.
Then, ever so delicately, she suggested another skin product that I might be in need of and again got me a sample so that I could see if it did please me before committing.
Finally she gave me a copy of the Lush Times in which she had marked up all the products we'd talked about and which ones were generally good for pregnancy.
I came away with three products and lots of information having only spent £5.82.
Clearly, all her information and help is also a very effective selling technique but I don't mind that at all, it is still very, very good service.
(The other places of good service today were Jessops (they always do well I have to say), a little jewellery shop the name of which I cannot remember but I will go back there for any jewellery needs in the future and Tullivers, a health food shop where I didn't buy anything but gained a lot of information on dealing with the combo of hayfever and pregnancy. (More aside - Jessops sold me a diddy camera (which I was looking for as a birthday present from Husbink's parents) to be a more mobile item than our lovely but often impractical D-SLR. It's blue and it's cute and it does everything I wanted it to. I am happy. :) ))
So, well done Lush, you've just acquired yourself a new loyal customer. I sincerely hope you can keep me.

Body, Mind and Soul

So we are all made up of lots of different aspects, we can divide those things in many different ways. One such way being to think of our bodies, our minds and our souls.
At the moment, my body is boss. Big time. If my body says jump, I jump. My mind...is sorely neglected, my soul perhaps even more so. I don't have the capacity (mental? physical? emotional?) to listen to anything other than my body at the moment. Mostly what my body says is "feed me" and "rest me".
I've had to listen to it just now and decide not to go out for the evening. The evening would have probably benefited both mind and soul but the body won out again. I don't think this is a problem. For much of my life, my mind has won. Not so much over the past seven years or so since finishing uni but I still think it gets its fair share. My soul tends to win in bursts, great big bursts of getting what it needs that then fizzle away until I realise that there is need for a burst again.
That last pattern, the soul one, is one that it would be good to get out of but otherwise I think it is ok that different parts of ourselves are fed and tended at different times.
You can of course see that my mind is going to pot at the moment from the inane babble of this post. Ah well. I thought it was time to finally let one of the semi-ideas in my mind out so here you have it. There was another one about taking a long time to learn some lessons but I think I've basically written that post before, perhaps about eighteen months, two years ago so I thought that could wait a bit longer (in this instance, it has taken me years to learn that although I might like the wallowing and reading and bubbles of having a bath, they always (well, almost) give me tummy ache and a relaxing shower is much, much better for me. Here endeth my lesson. I think last time it was about a particular author who I admire but whose books I can't stand...)

Rather Lacking

The company I work for is VERY big on customer service. We rely heavily on an extremely loyal customer base and so we go out of our way for them every day.
Sometimes this is particular situations like the woman I had in a few weeks ago whose husband had ruined his favourite trousers by getting a biiiig stain on them while doing some DIY. We had no advice on ways to remove it (it was not coming out) so instead managed to track down a suitable patch (the trousers were no longer current stock) which involved cutting up a spare pair found at head office...
Other times, it is just our policy that gives the good service. We have no 28 day limit for refunds or exchanges. We have one of (if not the) longest guarantee in the business on waterproofing. If we start a 20% off promo and people come back in complaining they hadn't heard one week, two weeks, three weeks ago when they bought their x, y, z, we refund the difference in gift vouchers... Sometimes I get irritated because we are a small company and would people really do that to M&S or Debenhams when they have one of their blue cross sales? Maybe some would but I suspect not as many as do to us. Anyway. The point is, I spend my time at work bending over backwards for people (sometimes I'm happy to, sometimes it grates, it rather depends on the person) and so I have very little tolerance for bad service.
This week, I got very cross with myself for not saying to someone how utterly abysmal their service had been. Instead I left. Then I spent the rest of the evening fuming and plotting what I might do to rectify the situation while knowing that I wouldn't be bothered to do any of these things.
I was in a shop on the way home from work. I was looking to buy a few things that I required but I was buying treat versions rather than cheap versions. There were signs all over the shop saying that if I spent £20 I would get a free bag. As I I was spending nearly £20 on what I wanted I thought I might as well tip it over the £20 mark as a free bag never goes astray with me. Several sales assistants checked if I needed any help and one of them pointed out to me that there was an offer still on that ended that evening so she'd removed the signs. She did not say "so the offer that all the signs in the shop are for is not running yet". Nothing of the sort.
When I got to the till and made my purchase (which included getting sucked into a discount card thingy) it became apparent that my free bag was not forth coming. However my money had been taken by then and I was tired. It twigged that if one offer was still running the one advertised everywhere wasn't. I stated this much. The woman (who was the manager making this even worse) simply said "no" at the end. I was tired. I was grumpy. I just walked out. I did not point out how poor her service was. I did not point out that in my shop if we put the signs up early so we can go home on time, we honour them. It is our fault, not the customers that we are over-keen.
Now I'm left just not wanting to ever go into that shop again. But I like their products. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Ch-ch-ch-changes!

So, I promised a more news-full post so here goes.

You may remember a while ago I very vaguely mentioned keeping secrets? Well, I'm lousy at it. Not at keeping your secrets - if you tell me something that you want to be confidential, I can do that, no problem - it's my secrets I struggle to keep. Anyway. I've done a bit better than sometimes over the last few months while I've kept two things relatively quiet. Well, three things actually. Note the relatively though. By no means have I kept them secret!

First, and least excitingly, I've started a freelance journalism course. This came about for various reasons and I'm not sure where it is going. What I mean by that is currently I'm not thrilled with the course. It is a little silly and quite frustrating in places. It also isn't put together all that well and that really winds me up - something lecturing me on the importance of care and attention to detail as well as grammar and spelling that can't do it itself. Grump. Anyway, I can (normally) look past those things to the actual content and with that I'm still not thrilled but perhaps the benefit of this course is that it will confirm whether or not I'm interested in this at all. And confirming not is just as valid an answer. I'd looked at some more fulltime journalism courses but they were very big time and money commitments for something I wasn't sure about. This is a relatively low time and money commitment and a good starting point. I'm sure aspects of the course will be very interesting even if at the end of it I don't do anything as such with it.

Second, and equally excitingly with the third secret (sort of, they are quite different sorts of excitement) is that I'm pregnant. Just passed the 12 week mark but no scan yet. Which everyone keeps telling me must be a good sign - if they were at all worried about me, they'd have got me a 12 week scan. As it is I'm waiting until nearly 14 weeks. Waiting impatiently!
I have been relatively lucky through the first trimester. I haven't been sick at all. I have felt pretty lousy at times and done a lot of sleeping but I know it could have been much, much worse. Now my mind is beginning to reel with all the practicalities but I'm doing my best to not be overwhelmed, at least until Husbink's exam is over.

Third, I still don't feel like I can quite say in this context because it isn't my news so I shall continue to be oblique. Many of you will know this one already. Which is that someone else is pregnant and due at a very similar time to me but a long, long way away. This is so very, very exciting. I have found it much easier to be excited about this other pregnancy than my own. My own has implications for me (like a lot of time with my feet up!) and this other one I can be much more simplistic about and enjoy!

I'm not sure I quite believe the middle bit of news yet, Husbink certainly has moments when he is less convinced! I've been assured by various other men that until the scan, it is really unreal for the father. So what if your wife is being hormonal and crazy? Isn't that just normal?! For me a big part of the unrealness comes from the distortion of time. It seems like it has been going on so long now that I can't believe I've only known for seven weeks. That this strange bit of time has only lasted that long.

Well, there you have it. Now the news is out there, I can perhaps write interesting posts again that I promise will not all be about how I feel today and whether there is a bump and what I craved last night (my afternoon craving didn't work for me...I craved, I ate, I was not satisfied) and so on. I may even subject you to some of my articles for the course. We'll see...

Hello

Well, that's about as far as this post had got in my head. I just wanted to check in really.
I've had a thoroughly lovely weekend with the marvellous Ruth. It is a little terrifying just how long it had been since we last met but at least we've had the weekend now and the possibility of lots of other meetings over the summer. We talked. That's about the size of it. It was fab.
Other than that...
Last week was pretty crazy at work. We were seriously understaffed. In the end, I only worked 7.5 hours more than usual but it still meant work/tutorial every day but one. I was very sleepy on Friday. And Saturday. And today. I fell asleep on the sofa this afternoon but it was vaguely nightmarish sleep so I'm still mostly just wanting bed now!
I realise this is not the most exciting post in the world ever. Give me another week to get myself sorted and I promise a more interesting post soon...

The Group Dance

I can't imagine that I've got through two and a half years of blogging without mentioning The Group Dance but that doesn't mean it isn't worth mentioning again...
I think life would be vastly improved if it were like a Disney film... When any major decision faces you, when any marvellous (or dreadful) thing occurs, you start to sing and a chorus suddenly appears behind you, knowing all the moves and helping the song along.
A couple of advertisers seem to have caught on of late that this is a deep seated desire in many people's (women's?) hearts.
The first is the Berrocca ad...You but on a really good day...where the four people "dance" on treadmills. I love it. Especially the bit with the two "skating" across the treadmills sideways. It's a group dance. People passing by are suddenly united by this desire to dance...
The rest of the ads are by some mobile broadband provider or other and they are even better. I assume they are based on the event about a year ago when Rick-Rolling ("attacking" people with Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up) was "all the rage" and there was a planned singing at something like 6pm at Liverpool Street Station...suddenly heaps of people burst into song all around the place, not knowing if they'd be joined - but they were. Anyway, these ads are all in train stations and all involve lots of people singing and dancing together...and I just want to be there!
I think it is part of the whole loss of community thing as well, there is something about The Group Dance that makes you feel like you belong to something larger, a bunch of people beyond those you know personally.
I think I've mentioned before about various national radio DJs that create this sense of community despite the fact that the listeners have no geographical proximity. One of the best examples is Chris Evans on Drivetime on Fridays...he plays the same song at about 6.20 every week (it used to be Delilah which was brilliant, now it's The Wonder of You which is so-so) and that is the start of the weekend - you sing along and then text in where you did the D-Spot (as it was) or the E-Spot (as it is).
Another of my preferred examples is that of Steven-ing or Steven-age from Adam & Joe on Radio 6 on Saturday mornings. If you don't listen to Adam & Joe, umm, basically, if you ever here someone in a public place shouting "Ste-ven!" and others responding "Just coming!" then it wasn't someone shouting to their friends, it was strangers connecting... Husbink wanted to try out some Stevenage when we went to see Lenny Henry in Othello at the West Yorkshire Playhouse last month but I wasn't sure the audience was right...
Back to The Group Dance... The streets in this town are so busy so much of the time with all the tourists that it would be so "easy" for a group dance to form, perhaps I should just start one day and see if anyone joins in...

So tired...

...but want to post!
I've had a nice day today, doing nice things but actually I think it is the one hour of work (seeing one of my students) that has been the best part of the day.
I've seen this student twice a week almost every week since October. She's a lovely bubbly girl, very easy to talk to and teach (in terms of responsiveness) but she does struggle with the subject more than anyone I've taught before.
It is a month tomorrow until her first GCSE exam. I have been very worried about her abilities and whether I have earned all the money her parents have been giving me over the past six months.
On Wednesday I saw her and she proved to me that things have changed in the past few months. Her mental arithmetic was fantastic. I was very impressed and relieved.
Today, everything seemed to be working. There were still bits that she needed help with (otherwise I would really have been stealing my fee) but it seemed that suddenly things were clicking. There will be plenty more moments in the next month when I'm concerned about the exams again but for now I'm really pleased that there is a good chance of the necessary grade afterall! Hurrah!

Making Mistakes on the Internet

This post is going to be hard to write without adding to the things that are on the internet that shouldn't be. I will be intentionally vague. I hope you can still keep up.

Someone I know has made a bit of a hideous mistake and put something on the internet that really should not have been there. They are going to lose their job. Which seems to be an increasingly common issue with the internet and email doesn't it? There was something or other on the news this morning about people being fired because of Facebook comments/posts/pictures/whatever. I didn't listen too much but you'd have thought people would start to learn some time soon, wouldn't you?

Anyway, as I said, this post isn't really about that, that is just the scene setter. What this post is about is gossip. You see, I knew a little about this particular issue before today. I should not have done. I mostly wished I didn't. But I didn't do anything with my knowledge and I didn't stop the conversations.
Today has been a free for all on the "victim" amongst mutual acquaintances. It has been discussed from all angles - the funny side (there is one, albeit a rather cruel one), the stupid side (which could also be the disbelieving side) and the wider implication side.
I do not know how to extract myself from conversations of this nature but I don't really want to be part of them either. Correction - I would like to not want to be part of them. I feel uncomfortable with them but I still want to know what is said, enjoy the chewing over that such discussions have.
This is something that I go through on a fairly regular basis. How to extract myself from conversations I do not wish to participate in...but equally don't want to be left out of.
There are bitchy conversations, complaining about one person or another.
There are cyclical, depressing conversations that just get people lower and lower.
There are conversations where I simply don't want to know.
I didn't think I did well at all at distancing myself but someone did tell me last week that they were amazed by my patience because I never seemed to join in one particular string of bitching session. This has given me a little bit of hope for keeping going with the attempt. Any wise thoughts, little tips or evergreen conversation turners?!

Right then.

I was going to blog about some of the serious stuff from New Word Alive wasn't I? Hmm...once again the week has stolen the blogging mojo from me and I'm now at the weekend (feeling very sleepy) and wondering what it was I was going to say...
So I suppose a summary is the best I can hope for at the moment so it goes like this...
I had a very good time at New Word Alive (for those confused by the "new", I was too, I'm still not sure I can explain the ins and outs properly but what used to just be Word Alive has now split from Spring Harvest for various theological issues). There were bits that were not good, I felt a little bit of an outsider at first but by the end it all came together.
The organisers put quite a big stress on the need to have a holiday as well as go to sessions and stuff. This was quite a change from when I'd previously been and it was very easy to overload yourself with knowledge during the week and feel like popping at the weekend. Instead this time, I mostly went to one morning, one afternoon and one evening thing. Sometimes though I stayed in the caravan and watched the morning or evening session on the telly. Otherwise, I slept, I played Adventure Golf (superior in many ways to just your average crazy golf, if for no other reason than fitting in with the theme of this blog), I debated ways for one of our group to ensnare a "famous" single Christian speaker... And of course, the goat came out from time to time when everyone was getting too sensible.
All the sessions I attended were good, wholesome stuff. They gave me things to think about and things to change. They did not answer big questions (like which church?) they did not make me think I should change my life forever. But that is ok, or perhaps even good.
When younger, I used to experience the highs and lows of these kind of big Christian events. While there, everything was possible, everything would change, the world would never be the same... Then home... The highs never lasted and rarely changed anything. To have a more consistent sort of experience where I can learn and come away with a few small nuggets that can make a difference in my life is a much more valuable thing.
Apologies. I'm really sleepy. I doubt this is making sense... Giving up now... Sozzo!