Yo back up now and give a brother room. The fuse is lit and i'm about to go boom!
I apologise for not blogging for a while. My life is currently sandwiched between trips to the alehouse, satisfying a girlfriend who only loosely knows about this blog (yes, she
will get a proper mention soon, now leave me alone on MSN),
Stick Cricket and work. None of which (with no disrespect to said girlfriend, who's lovely) are particuarly interesting to you, my 40 million readers.
Until today.
At the risk of throwing the Data Protection Act of 1998 out of the window (look Sarah, a law reference!), I'm going to talk about something at work which had me running scared.
We had a bomb scare.
Not wanting to share too much information (I don't want to lose my job), we work in the same building as the UK Passport Office. Anyways, we had to have bomb training, because we may get a phone call warning us. Officially, we're supposed to fill in a 3-sheet form giving a character description of the bomber.
Yeah, right.
Today, luckily, somebody else got that phone call. The alarm sounded almost immediately, and we got a stern sounding bloke telling us "prepare for evacuation". Again, bollocks to that, I'm off. Although I did leave by the official, safe route, I did have a little more spring in my step than I usually do.
We assembled at some green land somewhere, and I kind of forgot my training (it was a Friday afternoon). So I did what anybody else would of done: hung around with my supervisor, who knows more than me in these sorts of situations.
Why we ended up in The Cross Keys on Myrtle Street, I dunno. But I do agree it 'calmed my nerves'.
Apparently we only get one bomb threat every 3 months. I've had one already. The next one should be around Christmas time.
Hopefully the subsequent evacuation will allow me to do some last minute blokey style shopping.
And hero on hero, who at honour's proud call, For freedom their lifeblood let fall
Hey everybody! How are you all doing? Work so far has been relatively straightforward. Basically, we're manning the complaints line (shudder), but apparently we don't get many. Nevertheless, I can see me suffering a nervous breakdown before christmas.
I've taken on another side project to keep life interesting (besides looking for graduate positions, finishing my game, being a sociable boyfriend and friend). I've always been ashamed that I don't know the Welsh National Anthem, despite the fact I'm as Welsh as bara brith, I kind of murmur through the anthem whenever it's played on telly: be it a football game, or whatever.
"Oh ho!", you (probably English) people would say. "If it's anything like 'God Save The Queen', then it should be easy.". Unfortunately, it's not: -
Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau
Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi,
Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri;
Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mâd,
Tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed.
- Gwlad,
gwlad, pleidiol wyf i'm gwlad.
- Tra
môr yn fur i'r bur hoff bau,
- O
bydded i'r hen iaith barhau.
Gymru fynyddig, paradwys y bardd,
Pob dyffryn, pob clogwyn i'm golwg sydd hardd;
Trwy deimlad gwladgarol, mor swynol yw si
Ei nentydd, afonydd, i mi.
Os
treisiodd y gelyn fy ngwlad tan ei droed,
Mae hen iaith y Cymry mor fyw ag erioed.
Ni luddiwyd yr awen gan erchyll law brad,
Na thelyn berseiniol fy ngwlad.
It aint pretty, but - as I'm now known as "The Token Welshman" after just two days - I think I should know it.
After all, to Cymru my heart shall be true.
New Job, New PC, New Other Things
I am now employed! Earlier on today I went for a short interview for the same job
as talked about here. Basically, the job is call centre work. I'd love to say "ooh, I'm doing it for the experience", bollocks to that. £6.50 an hour? Thank you very much. I start work on Wednesday, which means I'll be unable to hound the freshers at the
schooldisco.com night at
the guild by wearing my drag.
I think they get a lucky escape.
Secondly, relating to the same article, I spent a portion of yesterday updating my PC. I also spent a portion of today upgrading my PC. My new 'toys' were a new graphics card, and an extractor fan for a spare PCI slot. Unfortunately, the graphics card refused to work first time. Being a pathetic quitter, I gave up, took out the card (which made a hell of a noise, a noise I was trying to fix in this post), and cried my way to the job interview. Whilst there, I thought "hmmm, could I be putting it in the wrong hole?" (a thought that has crossed my name on more than one occasion, though not always to do with PC's), and would you Adam and Eve it, I was! A bit of jiggling stuff around later, and my PC is up and running, super cool (seriously, the extractor fan is like having air conditioning in my room) and graphics which are incredible (though I've only tested it with Counter Strike).
The final thing, the "Other Things"? Well, those who know me know, but I don't feel confident talking about it just yet, to everybody. I'm only telling you this so that you can either take guesses in a fun game (of sorts), or to keep my readers in suspense. Boy, it's just like Lost, isn't it?
Cultured? Moi?
I'm not known for my love of art. Probably because such love is thin. Coming from a tacky tourist destination, we're not known for our art. More for our sunny views (when there's sun), amusement arcades and kiss me quick hats. Nevertheless, I'm not into artistry, expression, and other bollocks like that.
I was asked by my brand spanking new housemate to go with him to some art thingy in Liverpool. I was bored, I was hungover, I said yes.
It was built up quite a lot, and I wasn't really expecting a lot. Sure, this is the Capital of Culture and all, but I kind of missed that by.
We went just outside Liverpool to Crosby to see Another Place, a piece of work by Antony Gormley. I dunno what it was all about, and I was a bit miffed when lead to a beach with seemingly nothing on it.
"Look closely," I was told, "those people aren't moving.".
It was the most surreal thing I've ever seen. 100 statues of human beings, all identical. Some are almost in the sea, covered up by the mersey tide.
On the left is number 81, on the right is a very hungover Welshman. Two things we noticed.
Once was how honest the artist was. I mean, the statues were supposed to be a self portrait of some sort. But really, I'd give myself a little more downstairs and all. Then again, I'm not an artist.
Second thing was how cold it was there. I'm used to walking along beaches back home and everything, but it seemed very cold. Maybe because the place was very surreal.
All in all, I'd reccommend you to see it. It's quality, it's surreal, and it's - best of all - free.
Upgrading a PC is a Lot Like Making Love to a Beautiful Woman
Frequent visitors to my room will know that my PC is the noisiest bugger in the world, ever. Trust me, you could drive a tank through my room, and it would be deafened. Past experiences of PC's leads me to believe I should remove the dust from the inside of it. Past experiences of PC's also lead me to believe that if I don't do that soon, then my PC will blow up.
I'm a PC opening up virgin. I'm scared to touch something that gives me so much happiness, just incase I fuck it up good and proper. You hear people's scare stories: people's who first time was a disaster: people who sting things in the wrong hole, people who screw too much and boom, their loved one can take no more. The worst case I've heard is people who screw into such a tight hole and suffer permanent physical damage to themselves.
I didn't want my first time to be a failure, so I bravely grabbed hold of my tool, and began unscrewing. It was tricky at first, as it was tight. However, after a short period of time, it became a lot easier. Soon, I looked into the box, and blew. Blew as hard as I could. I was soon out of breath, yet, breathing heavily I returned to the screwing.
Soon, it was all over. It was purring on nicely, and a lot quieter. So, now I'm no longer a PC-opening virgin, I've been thinking off ways to improve it. Spice it up, shall we say. Toys, to introduce.
Tomorrow, I'm going shopping, wish me luck!
In other news: job hunting going okay (although I could never replace Catherine Cookson from the last few paragraphs). I had a quick interview for a place in the posh end of Liverpool (i.e. the part I'm so not familiar with) and got another one on Monday. Hopefully, I'll get this job, as it's a bit different from what I'm used. Not sure how much I can talk about it, as I was made to sign all these forms and agreements and - me being me - I didn't read the forms through properly, but fingers crossed I get the job.
Ashes to Ashes
"So far, my favorite thing about cricket is trying to learn the rules. Actually, my *favorite* thing about cricket is the drinking. I'm not normally one for drinking before noon, but it seems so *civilized* when you do it at Lords"- Mate of mine, who's just gotten into Cricket, MSN conversation, today
Having no job sucks as you have no money. However, having no job rules as you can watch England reclaiming the Ashes in what was a thrilling day's cricket, whilst winding up both Aussies and Yanks (who claim that cricket is less of a game than Baseball...losers) on the Fark messageboards. Well, that's a lie, the ending of bad light sort of fizzled out the play towards the end, nevertheless, the time period between start of play and tea was nerve racking, as fantastic bowling kept the Aussies in it. However, we (and yes, I do mean 'we', as officially the team is 'England & Wales'. I could write a whole post about it, but you really don't want to hear it) managed to pull it out at the end.
I'll be honest, I have only a passing interest in cricket. I know more about the game than those silly women who held up those '9' scorecards whenever Pietersen hit it for 6, but not much. I suppose I've been caught up in the euphoria that has taken over the country. Today is a great day, I have been tottally transfixed by all the games in the series, but this one especially (as it was the only one that pesky work didn't get in the way). It just is a pain that it's the last one on terrestrial television, as it's moving to Sky next year.
In other news: I've recently found out the scales broke in our house, so everything weights about 9 pounds less than it should. Which kind of buggers up my diet/weigh loss programme. Unless of course everybody in our family has lost 9 pounds, which would be such a relief.
Such A Dissappointment....
In honour of England's "Future World Cup Heroes"
crashing to Northern Ireland, (which - I may add, do not find the
least bit 'dissappointing'. Instead, I find it humourous. Trust me, if my buttocks were detatchable I would well and truly be laughing my arse off). So, before the dissappointing post, here's a picture to remind us all of last night's events.
Right, onto the dissappointing things. Firstly, I haven't recieved a text from yesterday, which is a shame, but I did recieved a phone call from a withheld who hung up on me after about 10 seconds, fucking jokers. I have lost all faith in humanity at the moment, unless I get a text off somebody.
Secondly, there is still no word from a lot of jobs. Me, Ian and Ste compared job agency nightmare stories, the worst one being Ste, who recieved the same email of rejection, from two different agencies, from two different jobs. Just seems a bit harsh that.
Least he's heard something, I've yet to hear from a number of jobs, and my hopes aren't up for them. Nevertheless, I'm not downhearted, I'm just trying to avoid my dad, who's very much a person who wants everybody to work every day from the age 18 through to 65. The worst experience I have is that a company asked if I could bring my long birth certificate to an interview. I don't know whether this is standard practice, but asking somebody to get an item worth (by my reckoning) £50 is a bit excessive. However, I am being kept busy, with a nice little programming project which I'm enjoying to bits (I started it about 3 years ago, but realised I didn't have the knowledge to complete it. After 3 years of university, I feel I can).
On a lighter note, here are some of my other dissappointments found out within the last few years:-
- "The Lobster Pot" Chippy in central Liverpool doesn't actually sell any lobster.
- Mince pies don't contain mince.
- The Christmas Cake/Wedding Cake debacle (ask Sarah, still bearing mental scars to this day).
I'm sure there are more, but at the moment, that's all I can think off. Sure somebody will point out my stupidity someday.
Hello, how you doing today?
Afternoon everybody, just a bit of an update what's happening in my life at the moment.
The truth is not much. After being let down on Monday, I'm just sending off applications. Did have an interview with a well known sandwich shop that went well, but not holding up too much hope just yet. Either way, I've started emailing more applications off, as - whilst I'm not hugely desperate yet - I'd like to be working. Contacts are e-mailing contacts so that I can find work. I'd love to believe it's not what you know, it's who you know, but the fact of 3 or 4 families (including my own) working in the Zoo kind of disproves that.
I've been finding ways to entertain myself though (no, not that way Sarah), and I am in danger of becoming a Welsh Dave Gorman: although I'd appreciate the fame and fortune that came from his madcap adventures, I don't fancy the ridicule and other detriments that come from it (including being very poor at the end, and looking like Roger the Veg Man). Nevertheless, with a disussion with my housemate - which started on what our new housemate's MSN name escalated into sending random people random text messages.
The premise is simple. I change one number of my phone number to each of the other digits (in this case, my number is 8), send them a text message saying "Hello, how you doing today?" and wait for a reply. Below is a table that charts my success, assuming that the texts were sent at 1:30pm (which they kinda were, it was just as neighbours were starting):
| Name | Recieved Message? | Time of recieved message | Comments? |
| 541 | No | - | - |
| 542 | No | - | - |
| 543 | No | - | - |
| 544 | No | - | - |
| 545 | No | - | - |
| 546 | No | - | - |
| 547 | No | - | - |
| 549 | No | - | - |
| 540 | No | - | - |
Please understand that this is purely for scientific research. Well, no it's not, I'm just bored. Nevertheless, I need to regain my love for humanity. Hopefully someone can answer my call.
Or at least a text.
Don't You Want Me Baby?
Hey everybody! Due to
UPS being shite and taking forever over our new router, I've managed to ressurrect my old University account to provide you with a quick update in my life.
For those of you who asked about the job interview, you may be dissappointed to know that...well...there's not going to be one. The agency rang me up and said that the company I applied for through them "is not looking for anybody else to interview". This was despite being told I would get an interview every single day I rang them up for the last two weeks. Also, this was after I had made plans to stay up in Liverpool for an extra few days, to incorporate the interview.
Needless to say, I'm a bit miffed.
I dunno what's making me feel the worst though. The fact that they've screwed me around, or the fact I didn't get a chance to show myself what I'm like. Ask Sarah, she'll tell you that I'm rubbish at dealing with rejection. This comes from having so many years where things kept going my way. I've had so many years whereby I've never failed or being rejected, so when it does happen, I don't know what to do.
I'm starting to look at it hindsightingly, I kept saying to my mates that I didn't want a career just yet, and I kind of felt like I was lying to myself. My head's just a bit screwed at the moment - not in a bad way, just in a "I have no idea what I want to do with myself.
All I know, is the hopes of me not being skint for a while have gone.
End of an Era
Today was my last day in the zoo. After four years of quitting, I finally did it today. Four years of grief, joy, and all sorts of emotions, I was pleased that the last few weeks have made me leave on a high. Two things I didn't do which I wanted to on my last day though: slide down the slide, and make an announcement over the tannoy (though my announcement of "The General Public Can Suck My Balls" probably wouldn't of gone down too well). I've had so many wierd things happen in the zoo, and today (whilst busy) wasn't out of the ordinary. I didn't say "What are you going to do, fire me?" or suffer an injury (you know, like in those police dramas whereby the cop who dies is like 3 days away from retirement), just a normal day.
After work, we went to the Pen where the boss brought me a Labatts, it was nice of her, as I wasn't expecting anything. Nevertheless, a quick beer after work went down well.
Now, I'm officially unemployed. I've been very introspective at the moment, as I don't know where I'll be in even a weeks time. As mentioned, I'm heading upto Liverpool tomorrow for the job interview (and other stuff, speak about it in a bit), but after that, I have no idea what's going on. Truth be told, I'm kinda scared. I have a huge fear that I won't get a job and end up peniless and in debt. Hopefully, that won't be the case.
What I do know is that tomorrow is England vs. Wales. Another thing I know is that we're going to get dicked on.
AAAAAANNNDDD CUT
Although the last few weeks in work have been brilliant, I'm kind of going through the motions at work at the moment. Two more days until I move back to Liverpool (temporarily for first, I'll explain in a bit), but soon hopefully permantly. It's nice enough around here (you'll be pleased to hear that I've got my head completely sorted from the fucked up posts from a few weeks ago), and - although I don't want to stay - it's nice to know I've got friends and family here should I need them.
Either way, I'm kinda going through the motions at work: come in, tea, talk about Lost, work whilst discussing football, lunch, more work, another tea, home. Three years it's been relatively the same, and I've had animal escapes, famous visitors, corporate breakfasts and even a minor earthquake. Today was a normal day, up until one point.
We had a powercut.
We've never really had a major powercut in about a decade in Colwyn Bay: we just seem to miss them. Last one was - as I said - about 95, when I remember listening to Radio 1 and Stevie Wonder under candlelight with thunder raging out outside. I was happy: I'd missed the school's swimming gala, but couldn't play on my C64.
Fast forward 10 years, and during work we had a loss of power. Wasn't isolated to the zoo as well, as half of Colwyn Bay was out of power. First I blamed Al-Quaida, who's extensive terrorist activities involved destroying the massive economic budget of a small, North Wales coastal town, then I blamed a few of the work's scapegoats, then I laughed.
We coped with the powercut. It didn't last too long (about an hour or so), and a mass cheer was heard when it came back. Whilst we didn't struggle, it was inconvenient: we couldn't serve hot drinks (electric kettle), food was slow (we couldn't leave the food on the electric hot plate), and the sandwhiches were slightly warmer.
However, one thing I noticed whilst the powercut occurred was just how people changed. I - strangely - loved it, as did most of my work mates (we played a game in work whereby should any elderly person came upto us, we had to comment on the powercut with the line: "Just like t'war, int it?"). I dunno why this was, but it put me in a good mood when I didn't have any electricity (which is wierd, considering how much of my life surrounds plug sockets). Maybe that it was like schackles to my life were set free? Maybe I was having an adverse hangover? I don't know. Either way, I want another one, just not when I'm in the dentist chair tomorrow.
Minor setbacks aside, my life is looking pretty good at the moment. I have been applying to a few proper jobs in Liverpool, one of which have gotten back to me, and they are arranging an interview as we speak...err...type. As such, I'm heading upto Liverpool on Saturday morning to experience England vs. Wales: The Rematch, a night out and probably a killer hangover. Following that, an interview early next week. Following the interview I return back to Colwyn Bay for a week or so, whilst I get my head straight. Either way, it's actually a critical few days for me, wish me luck.
