Mad at work, busy at home, finally in for the night and catching up on Sky+ tellybox which somehow feels like more work. Washing up, then bed, but not before tidying my room, which is a hole due to it simply being my crashing ground for the last couple of weeks.
I miss the quiet of work...
Thursday, 7 May 2009
Monday, 27 April 2009
CHANGE IS GOOD - AS IS A REST (for broken boyfriends)
So, now I'm an event producer. Who knew?
I'm loving my new job, even if (or rather especially because) I've been thrown in the deep end. The client on my current projects is lovely, my colleagues are very sweet/funny/chatty/brilliant, and the only complaint I can possibly make is 'what the hell is wrong with the District line after 6pm?'.
All go here. Birmingham and Leeds last week. Birmingham Motorcycle Museum may not sound great, and is in fact a little dry, but you absolutely cannot fault the staff in any way - incredibly lovely, proactive people. Leeds Royal Armouries were not, as the rumours I'd heard would have it, difficult. In fact, they were very good at making little problems disappear. And the hall of steel is awesome, even if you do feel something is going to drop on your head any moment...
This week we're in Bristol and Peterborough. I'm looking forward to Bristol as, having been to university in Bath all those aeons ago, I always liked popping across to the place. It'll be nice to see it again. Peterborough... um, anyway, yes, Bristol will be fun.
More frivolous things - I had all my hair cut off on Saturday. 5 years of rock-wife hair, so it was time. After rushing there, sitting in the chair for 3 and a half hours, then bombing it over to Hampton from Spitalfields to get to the first part of a hen party, I got to drive a boat for a couple of hours. Which was fun. Then off to the restaurant/bar for a surprisingly tasty meal, though I got knackered very early on and left with two mum-friends of mine, who had better excuses than getting up too early to get their hair cut. Such as small children.
The next day, after crashing with my parents, I sauntered into Kingston for a quick bout of neccessary shopping. I was planning to meet Mike at the cinema later, but this got scrapped pretty quickly following a brief but hilarious call about the picnic he'd been on the day before.
Mike: 'I didn't sleep much - I only got in at 2am'
Me: 'Oh, did you have a nice time then...?!'
'Er, no. I was in hospital for 6 hours'
'What?!'
'I tore a ligament diving for a frisbee'
So, after a quick shop, I made my way to Mike's to look after my poor, broken soldier. We watched a couple of movies, I snoozed on him and bashed the wrong foot a couple of times by accident, then ordered sushi. Unfortunately, this took an age to arrive, so whilst we were eating at 8.45pm, immediately afterwards I got sleepy and figured, seeing as I still had my overnight bag from the night before, that I'd just kip over (and try not to snuggle for fear of leg bashing). It was only this morning, leaving his flat, that I remembered I had a client meeting - and a public sector one at that. My jeans weren't exactly appropriate, but I had no time to change. A quick bluff with a different jacket I'd fortunately purchased the day before did the trick, though when my colleague asked 'Do you have a different pair of trousers in the bag too?' I had to answer 'I don't think that black-leather-look cotton jeans will be any better, to be honest'.
The meeting went well, I had no choice but to thunder through the points to get stuff done and dusted to finish off the afternoon eeks (on site from tomorrow, and a physio appointment first thing - perfect combo) - but it's all good. Got back in half an hour ago, and still trying to decide what to eat. An whether to bother doing hte washingup for my flatmates, seeing as all I contributed to it is one cup, and haven't been in the flat for a week otherwise whilst they've let it stack up. (Though I know for one of them it's a protest against the other not doing it EVER).
Hey ho. On with the dance. Or not, in Mike's case. Awwwwwww.
I'm loving my new job, even if (or rather especially because) I've been thrown in the deep end. The client on my current projects is lovely, my colleagues are very sweet/funny/chatty/brilliant, and the only complaint I can possibly make is 'what the hell is wrong with the District line after 6pm?'.
All go here. Birmingham and Leeds last week. Birmingham Motorcycle Museum may not sound great, and is in fact a little dry, but you absolutely cannot fault the staff in any way - incredibly lovely, proactive people. Leeds Royal Armouries were not, as the rumours I'd heard would have it, difficult. In fact, they were very good at making little problems disappear. And the hall of steel is awesome, even if you do feel something is going to drop on your head any moment...
This week we're in Bristol and Peterborough. I'm looking forward to Bristol as, having been to university in Bath all those aeons ago, I always liked popping across to the place. It'll be nice to see it again. Peterborough... um, anyway, yes, Bristol will be fun.
More frivolous things - I had all my hair cut off on Saturday. 5 years of rock-wife hair, so it was time. After rushing there, sitting in the chair for 3 and a half hours, then bombing it over to Hampton from Spitalfields to get to the first part of a hen party, I got to drive a boat for a couple of hours. Which was fun. Then off to the restaurant/bar for a surprisingly tasty meal, though I got knackered very early on and left with two mum-friends of mine, who had better excuses than getting up too early to get their hair cut. Such as small children.
The next day, after crashing with my parents, I sauntered into Kingston for a quick bout of neccessary shopping. I was planning to meet Mike at the cinema later, but this got scrapped pretty quickly following a brief but hilarious call about the picnic he'd been on the day before.
Mike: 'I didn't sleep much - I only got in at 2am'
Me: 'Oh, did you have a nice time then...?!'
'Er, no. I was in hospital for 6 hours'
'What?!'
'I tore a ligament diving for a frisbee'
So, after a quick shop, I made my way to Mike's to look after my poor, broken soldier. We watched a couple of movies, I snoozed on him and bashed the wrong foot a couple of times by accident, then ordered sushi. Unfortunately, this took an age to arrive, so whilst we were eating at 8.45pm, immediately afterwards I got sleepy and figured, seeing as I still had my overnight bag from the night before, that I'd just kip over (and try not to snuggle for fear of leg bashing). It was only this morning, leaving his flat, that I remembered I had a client meeting - and a public sector one at that. My jeans weren't exactly appropriate, but I had no time to change. A quick bluff with a different jacket I'd fortunately purchased the day before did the trick, though when my colleague asked 'Do you have a different pair of trousers in the bag too?' I had to answer 'I don't think that black-leather-look cotton jeans will be any better, to be honest'.
The meeting went well, I had no choice but to thunder through the points to get stuff done and dusted to finish off the afternoon eeks (on site from tomorrow, and a physio appointment first thing - perfect combo) - but it's all good. Got back in half an hour ago, and still trying to decide what to eat. An whether to bother doing hte washingup for my flatmates, seeing as all I contributed to it is one cup, and haven't been in the flat for a week otherwise whilst they've let it stack up. (Though I know for one of them it's a protest against the other not doing it EVER).
Hey ho. On with the dance. Or not, in Mike's case. Awwwwwww.
Wednesday, 8 April 2009
Boston
I'll be updating this as and when I remember what I did. Right now it's a bit of a daze...
Thursday
Get up early for the airport from my parents', and get stuck in the most almighty traffic. Get to the airport with just enough time for check in and a rushed breakfast at Wagamama (their kedgeree is great, and the breakfast soba noodles scrummy, by the way). Mike nips to the loo, and en route notices the board stating our flight is now boarding, and it's supposed to take 15 mins to get there. Eek. We run the rest of the way, and are about to get on the plane when Mike gets stopped and is searched. Just because, apparently.
During the flight, our TVs flicker and pause constantly. It's maddening, and gives me a headache.
On the plane, I fill in the green form and the customs form. Something about a visa waiver is mentioned on the tannoy. I assume, fairly, this means the green form, as per usual. We touch down in Boston, and I get the usual hot flushes and nausea after stepping off a plane, which I think is some kind of reverse motion sickness - and exactly the state I want to be in when seeing immigration.
Mike swans through easily, only I'm in another queue. My lady takes forever, and starts asking me a pile of odd questions.
'Have you been to the US before?'. Er, yes, hence the three previous stamps. I came more on my old passport.
'What was the purpose of those visits?'. Holiday.
'What is the purpose of your current visit?'. Holiday. It's my birthday tomorrow, you see.
'Why didn't you fill in Esther?'. Sorry? Who?
'I'll ask again, m'aam. Why did you not fill in the visa waiver online?' (surprised) I, er, what? Do you mean this green form here?
'No. Are you travelling alone?' No, I'm with my boyfriend.
'Where is he?' He's already through, and standing over there (points)
'Call him over please.' Er, alright... (wave to Mike to bring him over)
'So you didn't fill in the ESTA - Electronic System for Travel Authorization?' There were some details my partner filled in on the BA website, do you mean that? But that's just the usual passport stuff, I don't think that's what you mean...
'M'aam, your partner is not permitted to fill in anything on your behalf, that is a clear violation of US immigration law. Remain here please.' (she goes off and speak to another booth operator)
Mike: 'What's going on?' Me: 'I'm not sure, but I don't think I'm going to be let in, for some reason.' Mike: 'Shit.' (lady comes back)
'M'aam, the US operates since the 12th January 2009 an online visa waiver application system that you have clearly not filled in.' (I'm beginning to panic a litle now, the motion sickness not helping)
'Under these circumstances...' (oh god no, it's my fucking birthday, for fuck's sake)
'...we have decided to allow you to enter the US regardless, as we are currently not sure how this system is being advertised outside the US since its implication (yup, I'm pretty sure that's the word she used. I blame Bush). It has nothing to do with immigration, and yet comes under our banner though we are not the implimentors, so we have no way to track it's awareness globally. Next time you wish to enter the US, please fill in the form online. You can go now.'
I've missed out the bit with her freaking out over my hat being on her desk. Mike also later pointed out you can't break US law from the UK, and that she said that to scare me. Which worked.
So immigration finally sorted. We go to pick up our bags. Mike makes a passing 'hilarious' comment about customs and their rubber gloves. So of course we get stopped. Guy asks to see our passport whilst we open our bags for him, and whilst doing so asks the purpose of our visit. I say, slightly miffed but trying to stay cheerful, 'it's my 30th birthday tomorrow, and today ain't my day - immigration were funny with me too. My face must have suddenly gotten ragged and suspicious'. He looks at my passport and sees I'm not lying, and bless him, his search of our bags suddenly becomes very cursory and brief, and with not some small amount of embrassment. He apologises and says he hopes we have a good time in Boston.
We get the T to the hotel, dump bags and shower, then head out for a brief wander before going to Dick's Last Resort to cheer Mike up. He has ribs, I have a bucket of king crab claws and herby melted butter, which is nom (if very painful to get into - those spikey legs are sharp).
Thursday
Get up early for the airport from my parents', and get stuck in the most almighty traffic. Get to the airport with just enough time for check in and a rushed breakfast at Wagamama (their kedgeree is great, and the breakfast soba noodles scrummy, by the way). Mike nips to the loo, and en route notices the board stating our flight is now boarding, and it's supposed to take 15 mins to get there. Eek. We run the rest of the way, and are about to get on the plane when Mike gets stopped and is searched. Just because, apparently.
During the flight, our TVs flicker and pause constantly. It's maddening, and gives me a headache.
On the plane, I fill in the green form and the customs form. Something about a visa waiver is mentioned on the tannoy. I assume, fairly, this means the green form, as per usual. We touch down in Boston, and I get the usual hot flushes and nausea after stepping off a plane, which I think is some kind of reverse motion sickness - and exactly the state I want to be in when seeing immigration.
Mike swans through easily, only I'm in another queue. My lady takes forever, and starts asking me a pile of odd questions.
'Have you been to the US before?'. Er, yes, hence the three previous stamps. I came more on my old passport.
'What was the purpose of those visits?'. Holiday.
'What is the purpose of your current visit?'. Holiday. It's my birthday tomorrow, you see.
'Why didn't you fill in Esther?'. Sorry? Who?
'I'll ask again, m'aam. Why did you not fill in the visa waiver online?' (surprised) I, er, what? Do you mean this green form here?
'No. Are you travelling alone?' No, I'm with my boyfriend.
'Where is he?' He's already through, and standing over there (points)
'Call him over please.' Er, alright... (wave to Mike to bring him over)
'So you didn't fill in the ESTA - Electronic System for Travel Authorization?' There were some details my partner filled in on the BA website, do you mean that? But that's just the usual passport stuff, I don't think that's what you mean...
'M'aam, your partner is not permitted to fill in anything on your behalf, that is a clear violation of US immigration law. Remain here please.' (she goes off and speak to another booth operator)
Mike: 'What's going on?' Me: 'I'm not sure, but I don't think I'm going to be let in, for some reason.' Mike: 'Shit.' (lady comes back)
'M'aam, the US operates since the 12th January 2009 an online visa waiver application system that you have clearly not filled in.' (I'm beginning to panic a litle now, the motion sickness not helping)
'Under these circumstances...' (oh god no, it's my fucking birthday, for fuck's sake)
'...we have decided to allow you to enter the US regardless, as we are currently not sure how this system is being advertised outside the US since its implication (yup, I'm pretty sure that's the word she used. I blame Bush). It has nothing to do with immigration, and yet comes under our banner though we are not the implimentors, so we have no way to track it's awareness globally. Next time you wish to enter the US, please fill in the form online. You can go now.'
I've missed out the bit with her freaking out over my hat being on her desk. Mike also later pointed out you can't break US law from the UK, and that she said that to scare me. Which worked.
So immigration finally sorted. We go to pick up our bags. Mike makes a passing 'hilarious' comment about customs and their rubber gloves. So of course we get stopped. Guy asks to see our passport whilst we open our bags for him, and whilst doing so asks the purpose of our visit. I say, slightly miffed but trying to stay cheerful, 'it's my 30th birthday tomorrow, and today ain't my day - immigration were funny with me too. My face must have suddenly gotten ragged and suspicious'. He looks at my passport and sees I'm not lying, and bless him, his search of our bags suddenly becomes very cursory and brief, and with not some small amount of embrassment. He apologises and says he hopes we have a good time in Boston.
We get the T to the hotel, dump bags and shower, then head out for a brief wander before going to Dick's Last Resort to cheer Mike up. He has ribs, I have a bucket of king crab claws and herby melted butter, which is nom (if very painful to get into - those spikey legs are sharp).
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
I'ts all go here...
So in the last week, I've worked about four (or was it five?) 20hr rigging shifts. My brain is addled and stupid, even now - this after Monday night when, immediately after being fed at 7pm, the boyfriend watched me crash out - dead to the world - until 8am the next day. Man, I was tired.
I've also (references pending) been given a job. Kudos to the company that has hired me for seeing a freelancer as an advantage to a permanent team, rather than a hindrance or risk. Once I'm happily ensconced I'll write more on this, but it seems unpolitic to do so for now. I'm extremely happy, let's leave it at that.
Also, I am going to Boston for a holiday tomorrow. Just a short one to celebrate my birthday, but a well-deserved holiday nonetheless, where I'll probably come back fat from all the chowder. I am really looking forward to it... A bucket of crab claws. Life doesn't get much better.
So, all change here. And hopefully all for the best. I'll update this blog when I'm back, but until then enjoy the g20 summit... I dunno. There's not much else about, and I'm enjoying the crowd-baiting even the BBC have been doing...
Laters! x
I've also (references pending) been given a job. Kudos to the company that has hired me for seeing a freelancer as an advantage to a permanent team, rather than a hindrance or risk. Once I'm happily ensconced I'll write more on this, but it seems unpolitic to do so for now. I'm extremely happy, let's leave it at that.
Also, I am going to Boston for a holiday tomorrow. Just a short one to celebrate my birthday, but a well-deserved holiday nonetheless, where I'll probably come back fat from all the chowder. I am really looking forward to it... A bucket of crab claws. Life doesn't get much better.
So, all change here. And hopefully all for the best. I'll update this blog when I'm back, but until then enjoy the g20 summit... I dunno. There's not much else about, and I'm enjoying the crowd-baiting even the BBC have been doing...
Laters! x
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
Right. Hmm.
Having one of those weeks. Everything I'm working on is embroiled in chaos and speed, which I dislike immensely. Probably because I'm not in control of any of my projects in the production end I'm used to, and that's grating. Hey ho.
Interview tomorrow, number two stage. Fingers crossed.
That's it from me, probably for the rest of the week. 2am starts are hard. Writing anything sensible afterwards is harder still...
Interview tomorrow, number two stage. Fingers crossed.
That's it from me, probably for the rest of the week. 2am starts are hard. Writing anything sensible afterwards is harder still...
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
Unlikely but true
I've just been to the premier of a Richard Curtis movie.
Busy week, so I'll fill this in better later in the week with a couple of proper rants once I actually have some free time. 4am start, so need the rest...
Busy week, so I'll fill this in better later in the week with a couple of proper rants once I actually have some free time. 4am start, so need the rest...
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Eek eek eek
Sorry. Total fail to update this blog, due to the most insane hours ever.
Saturday - Right now, I genuinely can't remember.
Sunday - got briefing for new bout of freelance work. Went for coffee with Mike's flatmate Dave and our friend Tim, who are writing a musical together. Did a bunch of work. Tried to sleep early for the next day. Failed.
Monday - 2am start to oversee rig after no sleep the night before. The day finally ended 8pm. I got to bed, though, at 11pm, due to completing some work stuff I was unable to do during the day. I did not sleep.
Tuesday - awoke with migraine. This is due to Friday's late night thanks to insane, noisy, partying, wailing-in-grief next door neighbours, Saturday's fretful sleep, and Sunday's total lack due to early start. Took major painkillers, set off to organise my employer's storage shed for the project I am currently working on. Not fun when, despite dropping the pain, the pills can't remove the symptoms. Try organising large equipment, not to say lifting it, with tunnel vision, back on fire and slurred speech. Joy. Day ends 8pm. Then at 10pm discover iPod Touch is missing. Much searching in flat and road yeilds nowt. Get colleague to check van, it's not there. Convinced I've stupidly dropped it in road and it's nicked. Speak to Mike, who scrambles through my migraine brain and helps me remember I did jump out the van before getting home. Order taxi for round trip, offering massive tip if it's there. (It is my PDA after all, basically) Go through gates, rummage with torch, it's not there. About to give up, tunr around, and spot something black on the floor - heart in mouth walk over, it's my iPod face down. Tentatively piack it up, hoping.... and it's fine. Not even scratched. Luckiest moment of my life, taxi driver gets tip, thank you universe. Get to bed 11pm.
Wednesday - 2am start, finishing 8.30pm. Go to Mike's for sleep.
Thursday - PUPPETS. 3pm, get too tired to move, head home, make quick calls, fall asleep at 5pm. Now forcing self back to sleep.
Proper blog will resume shortly.
Saturday - Right now, I genuinely can't remember.
Sunday - got briefing for new bout of freelance work. Went for coffee with Mike's flatmate Dave and our friend Tim, who are writing a musical together. Did a bunch of work. Tried to sleep early for the next day. Failed.
Monday - 2am start to oversee rig after no sleep the night before. The day finally ended 8pm. I got to bed, though, at 11pm, due to completing some work stuff I was unable to do during the day. I did not sleep.
Tuesday - awoke with migraine. This is due to Friday's late night thanks to insane, noisy, partying, wailing-in-grief next door neighbours, Saturday's fretful sleep, and Sunday's total lack due to early start. Took major painkillers, set off to organise my employer's storage shed for the project I am currently working on. Not fun when, despite dropping the pain, the pills can't remove the symptoms. Try organising large equipment, not to say lifting it, with tunnel vision, back on fire and slurred speech. Joy. Day ends 8pm. Then at 10pm discover iPod Touch is missing. Much searching in flat and road yeilds nowt. Get colleague to check van, it's not there. Convinced I've stupidly dropped it in road and it's nicked. Speak to Mike, who scrambles through my migraine brain and helps me remember I did jump out the van before getting home. Order taxi for round trip, offering massive tip if it's there. (It is my PDA after all, basically) Go through gates, rummage with torch, it's not there. About to give up, tunr around, and spot something black on the floor - heart in mouth walk over, it's my iPod face down. Tentatively piack it up, hoping.... and it's fine. Not even scratched. Luckiest moment of my life, taxi driver gets tip, thank you universe. Get to bed 11pm.
Wednesday - 2am start, finishing 8.30pm. Go to Mike's for sleep.
Thursday - PUPPETS. 3pm, get too tired to move, head home, make quick calls, fall asleep at 5pm. Now forcing self back to sleep.
Proper blog will resume shortly.
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