Last night the Kiwi and I watched 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Button', the latest film to involve Brad Pitt and apparently also-ran for last year's Academy Awards.
What a terrible, terrible film. It's like a 166 minute slap in the face, a prolonged insult or a particularly bad case of constipation. From the overall concept to the appalling acting and stomach-churning attempts to tackle 'deep' subjects in ways that the Dawson's Creek kids would find mawkish, it almost motivated me to call up David Fincher and ask for that 166 minutes back. There is literally nothing of merit here, not even Cate Blanchett's initially hilarious 'old southern woman' accent (which fast matches being poked continually in the chest as a number one annoyance).
I rarely post about films, but I really had to get this one off my chest. What an absolute shocker.
Sunday, 29 March 2009
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
Kings of Leon, Vector Arena, 25 March 2009
A couple of disclosure points first. Last time KoL came to London, they played Wembley and I kept my distance. I hate stadium gigs with a white-hot burning passion, and much as I really enjoyed the album they were touring (Because of the Times), I couldn't bring myself to pay a fair amount of money to be made to be even more splenetic than usual. I hate the muppets who go to these gigs, hate the way they act like teenagers on a school trip, hate the endless trips to the overpriced bars, the dodgy sound and the fact that the stage is a mile away so you end up watching it on screens and so you'd be better off buying the DVD and watching it at home where the atmosphere is bound to be a million times better and the idiot count is a bit lower.
However, this is Auckland, and things like this don't come around every day. So late last year we bought tickets (on the pound, so they were actually pretty cheap) and went last night. The Vector Arena actually turned out to be a great venue, of reasonable size, acceptable bar prices and well toileted. The sound was superb too, unusual in cavernous places like this. The band played a more or less note-perfect set, just like they did on the records. They adhered to all the usual rock tropes - the limited interaction with the crowd, comments like 'you're the best audience we've had on this tour', and 'hello, we're the Kings of Leon' (uh, thanks for that).
The audience was utterly insane. Seated in great seats (4th row back, rear), we were surrounded by female Beatles fans circa 1967, screaming All The Way Through The Performance. The sort of scream that's literally a heartbeat away from pure hysteria, that rips through the eardrums like a burglar alarm and will not shut up. They really did like the Kings of Leon, clearly.
So on the whole, they did very well indeed. A nice long set with a four-track encore, great sound, great lights etc. They knew exactly what their audience wanted and delivered no more, no less.
Coming away from it though, I couldn't put my finger on quite why I was left feeling so underwhelmed. Compared, say, with Elbow at the Roundhouse, or TV On The Radio at ULU. Different styles of band, admittedly, but what makes the difference between 'good' and 'exhilarating'? You couldn't fault the band in either case, nor the venue. I think it has to come down to the crowd. When every soul in that room is there for one reason and one reason only - to watch the band and drink in every nuance of their performance - that shared focus seems to make the whole experience so much better. When it's more about getting hammered and jumping around and yelling and generally becomes about each individual, it kind of leaves me cold. More than that, it brings uncharactaristically violent urges to the surface.
I wondered for a while if this was an age thing, but to be honest I think I've always felt like this, every since Dinosaur Jnr at the Manchester Academy (my first gig on my own). Loved every minute of that.
So I dunno. I'll probably still go to the odd stadium gig, the odd mainstream band and so on, but I'll probably go on finding it pleasant enough, but a bit disappointing all the same.
However, this is Auckland, and things like this don't come around every day. So late last year we bought tickets (on the pound, so they were actually pretty cheap) and went last night. The Vector Arena actually turned out to be a great venue, of reasonable size, acceptable bar prices and well toileted. The sound was superb too, unusual in cavernous places like this. The band played a more or less note-perfect set, just like they did on the records. They adhered to all the usual rock tropes - the limited interaction with the crowd, comments like 'you're the best audience we've had on this tour', and 'hello, we're the Kings of Leon' (uh, thanks for that).
The audience was utterly insane. Seated in great seats (4th row back, rear), we were surrounded by female Beatles fans circa 1967, screaming All The Way Through The Performance. The sort of scream that's literally a heartbeat away from pure hysteria, that rips through the eardrums like a burglar alarm and will not shut up. They really did like the Kings of Leon, clearly.
So on the whole, they did very well indeed. A nice long set with a four-track encore, great sound, great lights etc. They knew exactly what their audience wanted and delivered no more, no less.
Coming away from it though, I couldn't put my finger on quite why I was left feeling so underwhelmed. Compared, say, with Elbow at the Roundhouse, or TV On The Radio at ULU. Different styles of band, admittedly, but what makes the difference between 'good' and 'exhilarating'? You couldn't fault the band in either case, nor the venue. I think it has to come down to the crowd. When every soul in that room is there for one reason and one reason only - to watch the band and drink in every nuance of their performance - that shared focus seems to make the whole experience so much better. When it's more about getting hammered and jumping around and yelling and generally becomes about each individual, it kind of leaves me cold. More than that, it brings uncharactaristically violent urges to the surface.
I wondered for a while if this was an age thing, but to be honest I think I've always felt like this, every since Dinosaur Jnr at the Manchester Academy (my first gig on my own). Loved every minute of that.
So I dunno. I'll probably still go to the odd stadium gig, the odd mainstream band and so on, but I'll probably go on finding it pleasant enough, but a bit disappointing all the same.
Thursday, 12 March 2009
Ouch
Before I go to bed, I feel I must share with the world two things I've just heard.
1. The sound, on getting up after having leant on one elbow for about one hour, of something in the shoulder area going like this. Only a bit... wetter.
2. The other sound, on standing up after having leant on one elbow for about an hour, of either my right hip or knee making something close to the sound hydrogen makes when ignited.
And they, ladies and gentlemen, are the sounds of old, old age.
1. The sound, on getting up after having leant on one elbow for about one hour, of something in the shoulder area going like this. Only a bit... wetter.
2. The other sound, on standing up after having leant on one elbow for about an hour, of either my right hip or knee making something close to the sound hydrogen makes when ignited.
And they, ladies and gentlemen, are the sounds of old, old age.
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
On running in Auckland
By my nature I'm a pretty lazy sort of person, like water I always try to choose the path of least resistance. My running habits are fairly well aligned with this trait, as I run purely to combat the damage I do to my body with fat and alcohol, and try to make it as easy as possible in the process.
Auckland has challenged this somewhat. A typical run might go a bit like this:
Decide to run a bit further today, so plot a 10k route that avoids all known hills. Turn left out of the flat and immediately encounter a hill, tell myself that it's only a short one and charge up it into a headwind. Canter another kilometer or so, turn a corner and am faced with what can only be described as a wall with cars going up it. I can just about see the top, so set a determined pace and chug up it, trying to keep a decent cadence. Get to the top, decide to reward myself with 50m of walking (it's either this or a seizure).
Spotted by someone running on the other side of the road, so start running again out of shame, into a headwind. Get to the end of this bit of road and see the sea (the eastern end of the harbour), start feeling all worthy and windswept. Head along the coast a little to a quaint little Cornish-style bay, the pleasure of seeing which is diminished slightly by the hill rising vertically in front of me. Can't see the top of this one, so adopt a slightly cautious pace and pant up it into a headwind. Woman pushing baby buggy passes me halfway up. At least it wasn't twins, I suppose.
Feel a tiny spot of rain, followed instantaneously by torrential, vertical, drenching downpour. Soaked through in seconds, at which point it stops, sun comes out, pavement and clothes bone dry again. Time elapsed, 20-30 seconds. Reach a turn-off point which thankfully isn't quite the summit, but it'll do. Turn off into a park, get lost. Find a road, predictably (by now) a hill leading upwards. Run up it, starting to lose sense of humour somewhat.
Begin looking for necessary turning off this road. Find to my dismay that few of the roads are actually signposted. A few minutes of searching at each one eventually turns up the right one, which is amazingly a hill leading downwards! Surely homeward bound?
Scramble down hill, avoiding cars parked on the pavement, half out of driveways, half on the road, in the road, across the road. Notice that the road appears to turn upwards relatively soon, note also that it doesn't seem that much of an incline. Sprint up small incline into a headwind, realise too late that behind this tiny lump lurks a chasm, a volcanic valley leading straight down, and straight back up again. Limp down the hill like a lamb to the slaughter.
Halfway up the other side, receive a tiny respite as I cross a road, which is mercifully flat. Unfortunately, this means the next 10m is considerably steeper to compensate. Three-quarters of the way up, I'm whispering encouragement under my breath. Seven-eights of the way up I'm murmuring abuse at myself. At the top I look back down and almost believe it was worth it, the view to the city on one side and the suburbs punctuated by the volcanic cones of Mount Eden, Mount Albert, One Tree Hill spread out on the other. Realise with horror that I'm still one valley away from the home straight.
Another downwards stumble, across the motorway into a headwind that leaves ripple effects across my face. Haul myself up the other side, turn 90 degrees into a headwind and note with a sinking feeling that the home straight is in fact a deceptive incline. Attempt to pass cafes, bars and restaurants on this stretch looking like it's all a bit of a breeze and secretly cursing these people for spending all day in cafes and bars and restaurants and still looking in reasonable shape.
Arrive home, wondering how a circular running route can contain more up than down, and how it can be all into a headwind. What a bizarre place.
Auckland has challenged this somewhat. A typical run might go a bit like this:
Decide to run a bit further today, so plot a 10k route that avoids all known hills. Turn left out of the flat and immediately encounter a hill, tell myself that it's only a short one and charge up it into a headwind. Canter another kilometer or so, turn a corner and am faced with what can only be described as a wall with cars going up it. I can just about see the top, so set a determined pace and chug up it, trying to keep a decent cadence. Get to the top, decide to reward myself with 50m of walking (it's either this or a seizure).
Spotted by someone running on the other side of the road, so start running again out of shame, into a headwind. Get to the end of this bit of road and see the sea (the eastern end of the harbour), start feeling all worthy and windswept. Head along the coast a little to a quaint little Cornish-style bay, the pleasure of seeing which is diminished slightly by the hill rising vertically in front of me. Can't see the top of this one, so adopt a slightly cautious pace and pant up it into a headwind. Woman pushing baby buggy passes me halfway up. At least it wasn't twins, I suppose.
Feel a tiny spot of rain, followed instantaneously by torrential, vertical, drenching downpour. Soaked through in seconds, at which point it stops, sun comes out, pavement and clothes bone dry again. Time elapsed, 20-30 seconds. Reach a turn-off point which thankfully isn't quite the summit, but it'll do. Turn off into a park, get lost. Find a road, predictably (by now) a hill leading upwards. Run up it, starting to lose sense of humour somewhat.
Begin looking for necessary turning off this road. Find to my dismay that few of the roads are actually signposted. A few minutes of searching at each one eventually turns up the right one, which is amazingly a hill leading downwards! Surely homeward bound?
Scramble down hill, avoiding cars parked on the pavement, half out of driveways, half on the road, in the road, across the road. Notice that the road appears to turn upwards relatively soon, note also that it doesn't seem that much of an incline. Sprint up small incline into a headwind, realise too late that behind this tiny lump lurks a chasm, a volcanic valley leading straight down, and straight back up again. Limp down the hill like a lamb to the slaughter.
Halfway up the other side, receive a tiny respite as I cross a road, which is mercifully flat. Unfortunately, this means the next 10m is considerably steeper to compensate. Three-quarters of the way up, I'm whispering encouragement under my breath. Seven-eights of the way up I'm murmuring abuse at myself. At the top I look back down and almost believe it was worth it, the view to the city on one side and the suburbs punctuated by the volcanic cones of Mount Eden, Mount Albert, One Tree Hill spread out on the other. Realise with horror that I'm still one valley away from the home straight.
Another downwards stumble, across the motorway into a headwind that leaves ripple effects across my face. Haul myself up the other side, turn 90 degrees into a headwind and note with a sinking feeling that the home straight is in fact a deceptive incline. Attempt to pass cafes, bars and restaurants on this stretch looking like it's all a bit of a breeze and secretly cursing these people for spending all day in cafes and bars and restaurants and still looking in reasonable shape.
Arrive home, wondering how a circular running route can contain more up than down, and how it can be all into a headwind. What a bizarre place.
Monday, 9 March 2009
Question for you all
Although I'll not be actually doing this until I start earning, I have time to think about it now and so I could do with some help from all you internet people. I currently don't have a satisfactory way of playing audio and video media in our house. Right now, I play music by plugging either my laptop or my iPod into the speakers I sometimes use to amplify the TV. Video I play by connecting the laptop to the TV using a VGA cable - the audio goes through the same speakers.
Problems:
- it's not instantaneous - there's plugging in of things to be done before it goes
- I prefer using my laptop to play music from, as I can use my iPod Touch to remotely control iTunes, but
- I can't use my laptop on the sofa whilst this is going on as it needs to be within VGA cable reach of the TV
- the external speakers don't have a remote (although we will be getting a Viera home cinema system at some point which should solve this to an extent)
So, basically, whilst sitting on our sofa (3.5m from the TV screen), I want to be able to browse a library of audio & video files, and control playback, with the audio and video playback going through the TV (album art would be nice alongside audio). I'll want to be able to add to my libraries through this interface, so a browser at least, and a few toys like Spotify and Last.FM will be needed. At some point in the near future, I'll want to use something like Boxee to access online content as well. The TV is full-HD, and it would be good to make use of that if possible. Note that the home cinema addition will take up one of the two HDMI ports.
I also want nothing to do with Apple hardware (other than the iPod), as it's ruinously expensive over here.
The next step will be setting up speakers in another part of the house, and playing the same audio library through there - I suspect that an Apple AirPort or similar might do the trick here, but that bridge we can cross when we come to it. Got all that?
At the moment it's sounding very much like a small PC tower with a ton of storage space, running Windows (preferably XP or maybe 7), and using the TV as the (primary or secondary) monitor with an HDMI connection. Problems there are that iTunes is rubbish at video playback, and although the DivX player has been working well for me of late, there's no iTouch remote for it. Secondly I'd have to get a wireless (bluetooth, probably) mouse & keyboard for it too, not much of a hassle but still more crap to have lying around the living room.
Years ago, I remember conversations around the critical points of convergence being mobile/media player/online-enabled device, and office/living room. The former we can now see in multiple guises - until I have a satisfactory, cost-effective way to fulfil the above requirements, I don't think we can quite say we've got there just yet.
Answers, suggestions in the comments, or email me directly. This should be fun...
Problems:
- it's not instantaneous - there's plugging in of things to be done before it goes
- I prefer using my laptop to play music from, as I can use my iPod Touch to remotely control iTunes, but
- I can't use my laptop on the sofa whilst this is going on as it needs to be within VGA cable reach of the TV
- the external speakers don't have a remote (although we will be getting a Viera home cinema system at some point which should solve this to an extent)
So, basically, whilst sitting on our sofa (3.5m from the TV screen), I want to be able to browse a library of audio & video files, and control playback, with the audio and video playback going through the TV (album art would be nice alongside audio). I'll want to be able to add to my libraries through this interface, so a browser at least, and a few toys like Spotify and Last.FM will be needed. At some point in the near future, I'll want to use something like Boxee to access online content as well. The TV is full-HD, and it would be good to make use of that if possible. Note that the home cinema addition will take up one of the two HDMI ports.
I also want nothing to do with Apple hardware (other than the iPod), as it's ruinously expensive over here.
The next step will be setting up speakers in another part of the house, and playing the same audio library through there - I suspect that an Apple AirPort or similar might do the trick here, but that bridge we can cross when we come to it. Got all that?
At the moment it's sounding very much like a small PC tower with a ton of storage space, running Windows (preferably XP or maybe 7), and using the TV as the (primary or secondary) monitor with an HDMI connection. Problems there are that iTunes is rubbish at video playback, and although the DivX player has been working well for me of late, there's no iTouch remote for it. Secondly I'd have to get a wireless (bluetooth, probably) mouse & keyboard for it too, not much of a hassle but still more crap to have lying around the living room.
Years ago, I remember conversations around the critical points of convergence being mobile/media player/online-enabled device, and office/living room. The former we can now see in multiple guises - until I have a satisfactory, cost-effective way to fulfil the above requirements, I don't think we can quite say we've got there just yet.
Answers, suggestions in the comments, or email me directly. This should be fun...
We continue...
Anyone who ever listened to Radio 1 in the early 90s surely can't hear those words without remembering Pete Tong's radio show, each track preceded with those sternly intoned syllables. Weirdly, I notice that noble-minded but severely irritating Gok Wan has adopted exactly the same intonation pattern with Every. Single. Sentence. he utters. Bugs the hell out of me, even though I have to tip my hat to his efforts to reverse the trend in body dysmorphia among women. A trend which, walking around the UK, I saw absolutely no evidence of. Curious.
Anyway, that small digression aside, this week has begun much like the others, with visits to recruiters and not a lot else. For some reason the Wii has stopped working, hopefully something to do with the fuse - I have yet to replace the plug with one of the worryingly fuseless NZ ones, so perhaps I'll get round to that today. This little event will be the highlight of my week so far, replacing one of my key distractions at the moment - along with Facebook, Twitter, numerous blogs and the odd bit of cooking, the Wii makes up the group Things Which Keep Me Sane at the moment.
Twitter I continue to find fascinating. For some reason though, what fascinates me most about it isn't the application itself, or even the ecosystem of other bits and bobs which use it, but the way it's exposing a very basic human need for interaction, boiling down this need to very simple components; sharing, informing, questioning, assisting. Twitter is just a vehicle for this sort of thing, and in time will be seen to be one of many increasingly refined vehicles - the important thing is the human component.
This got me thinking a bit lately. I've said before that good advertising is relevant advertising, both in terms of content, context and timing, but I suppose a slightly cynical refinement of that would be in saying that advertising is good in inverse proportion to how irritating it is to an individual. This adds an extra dimension to the whole thing, in terms of how likely I am to be irritated by the mouthpiece of the advertising message: TelstraClear, for example, are right at the top of my shitlist right now, so even their fairly bland advertising gets my blood pressure up.
On the other hand, before Christmas, I was getting discount vouchers emailed through from friends at the rate of two to three a day, and although none of them were remotely relevant, it didn't really bother me all that much. Perhaps if they had all been from the same person, I might have politely asked them to stop, but my point is that I'm more likely to put up with spam from someone I know. It's like a 'micro-irritant', as opposed to the macro-irritants we get every 10 minutes on commercial TV. Questions about Twitter's moral responsibility to allow users to filter out commercial (or technically, semi-commercial) traffic are pointless. My feeling here is quite the opposite - Twitter has an obligation to allow and even encourage commercial use of the service - users themselves have the responsibility to control what they do and don't want in their feeds. I'll happily put up with my friends spamming me every now and then if they're getting something out of it.
Anyway, since I left work in the UK, I no longer have a professional blog, so you'll have to put up with musings like this on this one.
Anyway, that small digression aside, this week has begun much like the others, with visits to recruiters and not a lot else. For some reason the Wii has stopped working, hopefully something to do with the fuse - I have yet to replace the plug with one of the worryingly fuseless NZ ones, so perhaps I'll get round to that today. This little event will be the highlight of my week so far, replacing one of my key distractions at the moment - along with Facebook, Twitter, numerous blogs and the odd bit of cooking, the Wii makes up the group Things Which Keep Me Sane at the moment.
Twitter I continue to find fascinating. For some reason though, what fascinates me most about it isn't the application itself, or even the ecosystem of other bits and bobs which use it, but the way it's exposing a very basic human need for interaction, boiling down this need to very simple components; sharing, informing, questioning, assisting. Twitter is just a vehicle for this sort of thing, and in time will be seen to be one of many increasingly refined vehicles - the important thing is the human component.
This got me thinking a bit lately. I've said before that good advertising is relevant advertising, both in terms of content, context and timing, but I suppose a slightly cynical refinement of that would be in saying that advertising is good in inverse proportion to how irritating it is to an individual. This adds an extra dimension to the whole thing, in terms of how likely I am to be irritated by the mouthpiece of the advertising message: TelstraClear, for example, are right at the top of my shitlist right now, so even their fairly bland advertising gets my blood pressure up.
On the other hand, before Christmas, I was getting discount vouchers emailed through from friends at the rate of two to three a day, and although none of them were remotely relevant, it didn't really bother me all that much. Perhaps if they had all been from the same person, I might have politely asked them to stop, but my point is that I'm more likely to put up with spam from someone I know. It's like a 'micro-irritant', as opposed to the macro-irritants we get every 10 minutes on commercial TV. Questions about Twitter's moral responsibility to allow users to filter out commercial (or technically, semi-commercial) traffic are pointless. My feeling here is quite the opposite - Twitter has an obligation to allow and even encourage commercial use of the service - users themselves have the responsibility to control what they do and don't want in their feeds. I'll happily put up with my friends spamming me every now and then if they're getting something out of it.
Anyway, since I left work in the UK, I no longer have a professional blog, so you'll have to put up with musings like this on this one.
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
A brief diversion
In the interest of keeping ourselves sane, we've been using some bits and pieces we picked up at a garden centre a while back, and a bright green watering can we got as an engagement gift from the Kiwi's sister, to create a bit of a garden of sorts. Our outside area isn't huge, but it gets a fair bit of sun during the day, so what we have put in seems to be doing quite well.
From left to right in this picture, we've got basil and chillies, spring onions, the mystery tree and spinach. The chillies took about 10 days to germinate, which at the moment seems like about a year, so I was actually going outside to dig them up this morning when I saw some tiny little shoots poking through the soil. It's amazing how little it takes to lift your mood, isn't it? The spinach is also doing well, showing its first leaves and generally looking all shiny and green.
Just out of shot in the first picture is the Empty Pot, which is currently awaiting something to grow in it. We've been going through a ton of flat-leafed parsley (called Italian or Continental Parsley here), so I think some of that might be called for. On the post-job shopping list is a lime tree too, as they're not only decent to look at, but limes are about $1 each here, which is extortionate. I reckon a tree would pay for itself within a season quite easily. We go through a lot of limes here, if not in Pacific cooking, then in Gin & Tonics.
Updates will be forthcoming.
From left to right in this picture, we've got basil and chillies, spring onions, the mystery tree and spinach. The chillies took about 10 days to germinate, which at the moment seems like about a year, so I was actually going outside to dig them up this morning when I saw some tiny little shoots poking through the soil. It's amazing how little it takes to lift your mood, isn't it? The spinach is also doing well, showing its first leaves and generally looking all shiny and green.As for the mystery tree, we have two of them. They were here when we moved in, and were in a bit of a sorry state as I don't think anyone had lived here for a few months, very dry months at that. So we gave them some smart white pebbles and plenty of water, and over the past couple of days they've repaid us with a burst of flowers which smell like honeysuckle, complimenting the smell of the Hatter's lilies which permeates the living room. If anyone out there knows what they are, do let me know! Have a look at the close-up and see what you think.
Just out of shot in the first picture is the Empty Pot, which is currently awaiting something to grow in it. We've been going through a ton of flat-leafed parsley (called Italian or Continental Parsley here), so I think some of that might be called for. On the post-job shopping list is a lime tree too, as they're not only decent to look at, but limes are about $1 each here, which is extortionate. I reckon a tree would pay for itself within a season quite easily. We go through a lot of limes here, if not in Pacific cooking, then in Gin & Tonics.Updates will be forthcoming.
On jobhunting
I have always hated jobhunting with a passion. More than once I've resigned myself to a few more months working in a job I've outgrown purely because I hate the whole process. I hate the constant disappointment, the way your personal worth is evaluated in terms of keywords and qualifications, and the way nine recruitment consultants in ten actually bother to read your CV, let alone take the time to understand what it is that you do. For someone like me who has a fairly shaky grip on my own self-esteem, it's a challenging process.
I don't think I've hated it as much as I do right now though. Two months after arriving in the country we've still to gain any real traction with anyone or anything, and as we come to the end of our interim cash, what's irritating me the most is the creeping sense of desperation, the sense of needing something from someone, the increasing feeling that I'm going to have to take the first thing that comes along and just be grateful for it.
Past experience doesn't help, either. All the positions I've ever worked in have come about through a personal contact, one way or another, with the possible exception of Virgin Digital, and as a colleague there rather unprofessionally told me once, I only just got that job, mainly as someone much better pulled out. So I don't have a huge amount of faith in the recruitment community, you could say.
Anyway, there's a little insight into what's going on at the moment. I applied for a few more things today, so chin up, this might be the week. I should probably take a leaf out of Melvtopia's book and find the hidden positives here... watch this space. Next week, if there's still silence on all fronts, I'm going to the pub.
And asking them if they have any jobs going. Backpedalling 10 years in my career could be just the thing to do, who knows?
I don't think I've hated it as much as I do right now though. Two months after arriving in the country we've still to gain any real traction with anyone or anything, and as we come to the end of our interim cash, what's irritating me the most is the creeping sense of desperation, the sense of needing something from someone, the increasing feeling that I'm going to have to take the first thing that comes along and just be grateful for it.
Past experience doesn't help, either. All the positions I've ever worked in have come about through a personal contact, one way or another, with the possible exception of Virgin Digital, and as a colleague there rather unprofessionally told me once, I only just got that job, mainly as someone much better pulled out. So I don't have a huge amount of faith in the recruitment community, you could say.
Anyway, there's a little insight into what's going on at the moment. I applied for a few more things today, so chin up, this might be the week. I should probably take a leaf out of Melvtopia's book and find the hidden positives here... watch this space. Next week, if there's still silence on all fronts, I'm going to the pub.
And asking them if they have any jobs going. Backpedalling 10 years in my career could be just the thing to do, who knows?
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Damn weekends
I reckon that, until I'm retired, this is the last time I'm going to have the luxury of disliking weekends intensely. Here's why:
Yesterday, I built our new barbeque, how butch is that? Tools and everything. I'm pleased to say it went up just within the alloted one hour's construction time, and although it was a bit rainy last night so we didn't use it (it hasn't got a hood, yet), I think it's reasonably sound. I'm going to christen it tonight with a couple of lamb leg steaks that have been nestling in some smoked paprika, garlic, red wine vinegar and olive oil all afternoon, should be a worthy first dish.
I've noticed a degree of curiosity people have over here for the relationship between the English and barbeques. I suppose it's the same intrigue we have for an African who's never seen the snow - a sort of 'have you ever used one of these before' attitude and a slight puzzlement that someone could have attained the age of 31 without using one regularly. It's true - I wasn't brought up with one and I'm still getting to grips with it, and it's always irritated me that there's a whole school of cookery that I've never really been anywhere near, so it's good to have the opportunity. One of the things I'm keen to try is ribs - cooked under the hood (once we get one) for hours until they're meltingly tender.
I've also noticed that in the time since we've been here, I haven't noticed one female going anywhere near one. Barbeques is men's business.
So that's where we are right now. Oh - I'm currently reading Brillat-Savarin's classic 'The Physiology of Taste', translated by the amazing M F K Fisher. I don't think I've had this much fun reading a book in quite some time.
- At the weekend, no recruiters are working on my behalf, no businesses are working on job descriptions. Things stop.
- At the weekend, the shops are full of people
- And so are the roads
- For some reason, I'm still in the habit of doing less at the weekend than I did in the week, with the result that my weekends are practically catatonic
Yesterday, I built our new barbeque, how butch is that? Tools and everything. I'm pleased to say it went up just within the alloted one hour's construction time, and although it was a bit rainy last night so we didn't use it (it hasn't got a hood, yet), I think it's reasonably sound. I'm going to christen it tonight with a couple of lamb leg steaks that have been nestling in some smoked paprika, garlic, red wine vinegar and olive oil all afternoon, should be a worthy first dish.
I've noticed a degree of curiosity people have over here for the relationship between the English and barbeques. I suppose it's the same intrigue we have for an African who's never seen the snow - a sort of 'have you ever used one of these before' attitude and a slight puzzlement that someone could have attained the age of 31 without using one regularly. It's true - I wasn't brought up with one and I'm still getting to grips with it, and it's always irritated me that there's a whole school of cookery that I've never really been anywhere near, so it's good to have the opportunity. One of the things I'm keen to try is ribs - cooked under the hood (once we get one) for hours until they're meltingly tender.
I've also noticed that in the time since we've been here, I haven't noticed one female going anywhere near one. Barbeques is men's business.
So that's where we are right now. Oh - I'm currently reading Brillat-Savarin's classic 'The Physiology of Taste', translated by the amazing M F K Fisher. I don't think I've had this much fun reading a book in quite some time.
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