Saturday, October 25, 2003

Excavating The Abyss

For those who want a sign that I'm not yet ready to apply for any job, take a look at this.

Tuesday, October 21, 2003

Am I Living In A Box?

Yesterday I went to see how work on my flat progresses. It’s mostly there, with only carpets, blinds, and radiators needing to be done. I should be living there by the middle of next week. Honest.

On Saturday me, Caitlin and Martin went to see David Blane lurking in his perspex box next to Tower Bridge. Very surreal atmosphere down there. When we arrived, he was slumped forwards and not moving. After a bit he sat up and started waving, much to the delight of the hoards of screaming teenage girls that he attracts. If I’d realised when I was 14 that the best way to pull was to take the evolutionarily-risky strategy of locking myself in a box and not eating, I could have saved myself a whole lot of trouble. Mr. Blane is, of course, now out. I’m not convinced that it was all as important as he seems to think.

I am now engaged in the process of signing-on for my Jobseekers Allowance. Thursday will be my third visit to the Jobcentre, and perhaps the last one. I think three meetings to get this done is a bit inefficient, but what do I know? I hopefully won’t be relying on the Allowance for too much longer, as I’m applying for three jobs at the moment, two of which I have a reasonable shot at getting an interview for. I’d tell you what they are, but if I did, and you went and got one of them instead of me, then I’d have to track you down and beat you with a pillow. This way is better for us all.

Jen now has a blog all of her own, "We Eat A Nut and an Insect", which you can get to via the links section to the right. I hope to hear more of Timo’s drug-fuelled rampages in the future.

Thursday, October 16, 2003

Down And Out In Hampstead And Harringay

Blimy, but yesterday was a barrel of…something. I’m still not sure what it was, but it tasted funny. I got rejection e-mail from Bernard Quaritch Ltd, the antiquarian bookshop. Brook Street employment agency refused to register me, on the basis that they want six months office experience, and I only have three. Bastards.

By way of a pick-me-up, I went to the first proper Gamesoc meeting of the year. A good time was had by all, and afterwards we retired to the nearest pub. It was at this point that the evening began to become “hilarious”. I should point out that, having drunk two pints only, alcohol played no part in the following events.

Having turned down a final drink (Here my troubles did begin. The lesson is, never stop drinking), I headed back to my sister’s flat, having earlier given her back the keys because I knew I’d be out late. I got back at midnight and rang the bell. Failing to get any response, I rang the bell on and off for about ten minutes. Eventually, the intercom came to life. Unfortunately, it was the bloke from the downstairs flat, complaining about the noise and demanding that I stop it and clear off (To this man I direct the following statement: “Fuck you, you motherfucking goat-fister. If the noise of a doorbell ringing in someone else’s flat is enough to annoy you, then you deserve to be annoyed. By as many people as possible”). I stopped ringing the bell. Being unable to raise my sister on the phone, I considered my options.

a) Spend eight hours in the front yard on what was rather a cold night.
b) Think of something else.

All the trains and busses had stopped, so my (b) was to get a Taxi to Harringay in the hope that Alan would let me sleep on his floor. Veritable Saint that he is, he provided me with a spare bed at 1:30 this morning. And he had to be up at some ungodly hour.

I made it into this flat again at about midday today, in sore need of a cup of coffee and a shower. With any luck, I should be in my own flat come Sunday or Monday, hopefully reducing the chances for a repeat of such hilarity.

Monday, October 06, 2003


Well, it's been a while since I last posted. Due to a delay at the Butchers flat I'll be here at my sisters flat until the weekend. I might be making progress on the jobs front, too. There's a scientific catalogue company down in Putney Bridge that wants Data Entrants at £7.50 per hour. I could do that. I've also applied for a job at a bookshop on Charing Cross Road. How hard can selling a book be?

On Friday I helped out with the Gamesoc stand at ULU Fresher's Fayre. The three main reactions were mockery, genuine interest, or completely ignoring us. Most amusing was the Eastern European girl who seemed to believe that we were the Rock & Metal Society for some reason.

As I've said before, I'll try and visit Nottingham when I'm straightened out here. However, I may have to visit Brighton too, so don't count on it! I should be able to attend the usual New Year's mayhem, though.

That's it for now...