gibbon-arsed ramblings of a hopeless underachiever

Thursday, November 18, 2004

Roll call  

of things I've forgotten to blog about because... well, because I've been being useless and not blogging much, innit?

Birthday - turned 30, world didn't end. Who'da thunk it?

Birthday present from groovy friends - a stereo! All shiny, silver, 5-cd-changer-and-a-turntable-so-I-can-hear-vinyl-I've-bought-and-never-heard-cos-old-one-was-broken-and-super-spangly-timer-function goodness to replace the walkman-wired-to-knackered-stereo set up I had before. I heart them forever.

Birthday present to self - an electric guitar. Oooo, it's so pretty. White and glittery and gorgeous and I are already written me a song on it even though I can barely play anything. Huzzah.

Going for lunch with TBIKFMBWIDRLITW and meeting him for drinks twice. He was briefly renamed TBIKFMBWINSA (The Boy I Know Fancies Me But Who I'm Not Sure About). That was until someone on Saturday congratulated me on the fact that TBIKFMBWIDRLITW had told them we were going out with each other. Houston, we have a problem.

The absolutely fan-fucking-tastic fireworks at Alexandra Palace.

Vowing not to write about people I fancy and don't on my blog any more. Probably.

Other things and stuff that I will no doubt remember soon and write about. Maybe.

I'm going to bed.

posted by bandhag | 11/18/2004 09:31:00 AM

Only losers use melatonin  

Yes, kids, it's a hormone for weaklings. Just Say NO.

Or to be less obtuse - my new job is a night job. Graveyard shift. 12:30 to 8 am, to be precise. I can't tell you how helpful it is that my body clock is naturally fucked anyway. Being up all night and sleeping during the day is a piece of piss. What I wasn't prepared for, though, was the stomach cramps. My sister (who's a nurse*) says that's a normal part of working nights. Trapped wind, apparently. All your body's systems slow down at night and you're forcing your stomach etc to be up and trying to digest things/generally tick over, so it gets all umpty. All shift long I swell up like a balloon and my stomach ties itself in knots, then at 8 I come home and fart myself inside out.

Just one of the many, many reasons why I keep reminding myself that it's good that I'm single while I'm doing this job.

Commuting's a fucking doddle, though. I either go to work straight after being out at a gig (or, as on Monday, from an after-show party for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs that R&A were DJ'ing at - daaahling, we are so showbiz. heh) or from home after an evening in front of the telly. Either way, the train is empty. And on the way back I scamper past dour-faced day workers, sit on the similarly totally empty train home and post the Metro (that I've picked up from a lovely tall fresh stack) through R&A's door. Smashing.

Quite how long it will take to get thoroughly heartsick of the place, I'm not quite sure. Nice little earner for Christmas, though....

* I can't be the only person who remembers CBBC 80's "favourite" Jonny Briggs, can I? Remember the annoying girl who used to pipe up with "My mum - who's a nurse..."? Well, um, that's how you're supposed to read that line. Ok then.

posted by bandhag | 11/18/2004 09:13:00 AM

Friday, November 05, 2004

Oy vey  

What a week.

Both at home and in "the field", as it were. John Peel dead, a guy kicked to death for being gay, America proving once and for all that it's both a) nuts and b) screwed. Depressing shit that has made me cry and made me wonder just What The Hell Is Wrong With People.

Meanwhile, I managed to lose yet another job. To lose two freelance jobs may be considered a misfortune, but to lose three...blah blah blah. Well, they didn't make lame excuses this time and it's a "We can't afford to keep you on for now, but give us a couple of months" situation. I spent precisely one evening in a flap about it because it was, of course, my one remaining job. The next day I went for an interview for some shitty but well-paid temp job, and got it. Start next week. Unemployed for about 16 hours. Nice.

But yes, I've had to go the corporate sellout route. Which I've discussed before, so you can imagine how utterly thrilled I am about it all. I'm telling myself this is just until the new year - put food on the table, rent in and presents under the tree, save a bit, then find a way to get back to the life of a hippy.

That's the plan, anyway. 'Course, a couple of weeks in I expect I'll be so infected with the scene that I'll be buying the Mail or the Torygraph and kicking the homeless with my Manolos as I stride into the office to crush more proles. And such.

posted by bandhag | 11/05/2004 11:20:00 AM
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