This Is Not A Democracy

I have to say, I feel a little bit touched that so much thought is put into assassinating my character. It's interesting to have been studied so closely.

It makes you wonder, doesn't it, what some people aren't doing with their time when they feel inclined to write such lengthy, self-righteous passages about someone they don't know at all. She must have had such an awful day/week/year to need to vent like that. Poor kid. Doesn't have much understanding of the concept of debate, though. Especially considering most of the posts she's talking about were with someone who then asked if they could friend me (*waves at puckinnichild*). And even more ironically, then civilly, with someone who has previously been utterly obnoxious, who posted re-thinking her stance because of points I'd made.

So she doesn't understand me, or my sense of humour. Pity for her, really. Pity for her, too, that she's trying to upset or offend someone whose only reaction is amused befuddlement and slight scorn. Waste of energy. My mother was ten times the bitch she thinks she is, and I got rid of her easily enough. Game, set and match to me on that one.

(I've been put down by a better class of bitch, seriously.)

Ah, internetz. How you bring such joy with your gay and prettiful Jewish boys and squishy little redheads, and such WTF with your bitter and possibly unhinged fangirls.

The thing is, and I'm sure this will be taken out of context of said to mean something else, I honestly don't care what you think of me. I don't. I spent all my life caring, and doing things people disliked anyway, and then I just stopped doing the caring part and started considering me. I used to let things make me angry or hurt me, and then I realised there was absolutely no point. The last of my concerns are the views of people on the internet. I have lurkers here that I never asked for and don't actually want, and still don't see the reason for. I don't regard my journal as that interesting - it's my comments and stream of thought on my interests. If it's been negative recently, it's because I think they deserve it. I give praise and abundant love where it's due, too. Because if true fan loyalty is anything, it's not unconditional worship. You'd tell a friend if they were making an arse out of themselves, right? If they were dating someone you thought was bad for them? If they were wearing an outfit that made them look like a complete twat? Well this is the same thing, for me. I'm not going to pretend I love everything they do - or anything any of my favourite bands do - just because they are the ones who did it. And I'm not just going to say 'I hate it', I'm going to say why, and how it could be improved.

They're never going to read it, so it shouldn't really matter either way, should it?

It kind of bothers me that I feel obliged to friend people so they can read the FOB filter. Equally, the lower people put themselves in my estimations, the less their opinions matter, so... I just delete people. I don't keep people around who get on my nerves and waste my time, I just delete them and stop them commenting. If they have a problem with what I'm saying, I'm sure they won't mind not having to read it.

Basically, I'm both shocked and bored by people's attitudes. How is it possible to be that much of a lunatic, and yet... why don't I just anticipate it, now, because this fandom is bloody rife with it? Most fandoms are, from what I can remember.

But yeah, I'm knackered, now, and way too tired for this kind of trivial bullshit. We had the HRE chat thing tonight, so I stayed up for that (Chicago time being six hours behind us made it 1am start) and I went out for drinks with three of my team, our head of department and two people from upstairs, straight after work. That was a lot of fun, actually - it was good to have a proper social chat with my boss. He's a really nice bloke.

I was going to go to my nan's this weekend, as well, as I have two investigations potentially running over the next two weeks, but I just don't have time. I need the sleep (she says, chatting to people at 4am). I also have a lot of writing to do. Bleh. To bed!

Night chaps.

... I'm having an assessment for drum lessons a week tomorrow.

Ya rly.



I wanted to play drums as a kid, but I was never really encouraged with music the way my brothers were and they didn't like me playing on theirs (the few times I did I just didn't know where to begin).

Basically, I've really been listening to Andy play, recently and he's just fucking amazing. There's a real imagination to his playing (some drummers are so dull) and it kind of inspired me. I'm always tapping my hands and my feet when I listen to music but my co-ordination has always been a bit wonky because I over think it. The place I'm going to really put a lot of emphasis on learning co-ordination and developing a sense of rhythm, so they sound like the ideal place for me.

They also do musical grades, so you can test your skills as you go on.

Drumming is a really physical discipline, as well, so that's an added bonus.

I just hope they don't decide I'm so bad they can't teach me anything...



Also, my work turned out to be very generous, today: we got our pay rises for the year and discovered we (as in, my department only) had been given a £200 bonus because we were so awesome; and then they gave us new (less salmonella friendly) coffee machines, PLUS! a can and confectionery machine. Which I, of course, will be avoiding.

So, on Friday, the head of my department, Robin, was attacked on his way home from the pub.

Five youths tried to mug him, failed, and instead shattered his arm with an iron bar.

He's been signed off for six weeks. It's lucky he's getting away with that.

The only problem is, Robin signed my passport off. They broke his right arm. He's right handed. The passport office now want a letter saying that, yes, he is the person who signed it and that is definitely me.

But he's a) at home with no headed paper, which they specifically requested; b) can't write anyway.




I called the passport office and the woman I said really didn't know what to do, but agreed that we couldn't wait six weeks to get it sorted.

She passed it on to her supervisor.

Kind of nervous, now. And pissed off on Robin's behalf, because the police are being as much use as an egg-cup of water at a bushfire.

I am such a fucking slider. For the second time in six months, if not less, I need a new desktop at work.

*head desk*

So, today I volunteered at the Gate. *head desk*

I was supposed to be there to help Esmee - but I was claimed by the museum team after being sent on an interesting, but in some ways frightfully tedious, tour of the Gate - which I did when I first started with SJA.

I spent the afternoon without much to do except file a bunch of papers and I'm sure Esmee could have found more use for me. After all, the museum may have two people on leave and one with a dodgy ankle, but Esmee only does a couple of afternoons a week at best and Philip isn't known as Esmee's Little Helper for nothing.

It was just assumed that I could come in again tomorrow, so I am. I said I had plans for Thursday, but they're trying to coax me in then, too... They want to re-arrange the shop and are hoping I'll help. Anyone who realised I was using annual leave to volunteer at the Gate, today, acted like I was insane. I fear they may be right.

I enjoyed heping Esmee in Harrow, but the Gate itself wasn't as fun for me as I'm sure it is if 900 year old silver is your thing.

Unfortunately, Kitty's booked in for a military film night tomorrow and will be staying over. I'd rather not go in on Thursday after a late night...

I've still no idea what happened to the Pretteh, but I'm sure Amy will have something to tell me, as I bumped into her with Esmee at lunch.

All in all, a thoroughly knackering day - there are a fuckload of steps in the Gate, let me tell you! I have to make my bedroom presentable, in a minute. I don't want Kitty killing herself tripping over my shoes before we've even watched Saving Private Ryan...

*whines*

Feel ill. Want to go home...

So, yeah - I got voted scariest psycho in SJA at work, this afternoon.

Second was Stu, who is a sweet, baby-faced guy from Operations.

Third was Gary From Youth who was shockingly fierce in action. He's not much taller than me and pretty slight, at first glance - and always really friendly and quite sweet - but I saw I the guy's arms and shoulders in action and he is one crzybtch. It's funny to watch him do the role-plays to diffuse the situation, because you can see him get all tense and that he clearly just wants to beat the fuck out of the actor/teacher.

I actually felt like I was in a competition with him to see who could be the (unexpected) scariest mofo in SJA. Which was amusing, because he's the guy I had a crush on in the past.

There was a moment at first when they had us starting to lash out pre-emptively and instead of diffusing the situation I fronted George up; next thing was an attack where we had to repeatedly hit them in the face and drive them back, using pads at face level, while yelling. When I'd finished George said, "Blimey - you like that bit more than talking, then?!"

We had to do full-on fighting off an attack as the last part, today, and both of the guys - Mark the little Asian guy and George the huge white guy - received a serious fucking beating. They both said that I was really fierce and Mark in particular was impressed by the kicking - and he's a martial arts expert.

My main downfall was that once I'd got them on the floor I kept kicking the fuck out of them, instead of running away (which meant they could grab my leg and I could drop onto their chests with fourteen stone of hotmomma, on my knees - mehehehehehe). But it did the job... even if I did dislocate part of my hand, briefly (wonky joints - I do it all the time).

Ancestral Warrior Heritage For Teh Win.





On a less aggressive note, I so want to go Sea Fishing In Norfolk OMG. Food! Sea! Fish!

Also, I found a place that delivers fresh oysters.

*dead*

Whenever I'm feeling crap, I go to Craigslist and look at places to live in Vancouver.

Looks like prices have gone up a bit...

I do wonder, sometimes, how the hell I'll ever get there. Getting more experience in working with Marketing and Publicity will probably help get a visa, and the ancestry thing might swing it for me a teensy bit. I think what I really need to do is speak to someone at the Canadian Embassy and find out if there's a snowflake's hope in Hell of being given a working visa; and then find out what I'd need to do to get it.

I do still want to join the TA, but I almost feel there's more chance of me getting to Vancouver than there is of me getting fit enough, soon enough to be in the Army.

Maybe if I got some qualifications in Marketing (my company might be able to help with that, having joined the Investors in People scheme) it would make it easier to get a visa. I know that you can get in on the strength of your qualifications if you're a secretary or a Business Development Officer. I've acted as assistant PA to the director of a company (I interviewed her nannies!), a receptionist and office manager (corporate and medical), I've helped devise brochures and adverts, I've done extensive proof-reading for brochures, adverts and venue maps. I've just joined the Publicity Committee (upon request, rather than a voluntarily) for my theatre society and I've co-created a website intended to elevate the online presence of underappreciated actors - which is almost at launch stage. With a bit of practise, I could regain my grasp of conversational French, and also Italian.

I'm twenty-four in November. And I have got a fuckload of very useful experience.

Maybe the qualification is a way to go about it.

I'm just crap at studying, is the problem.

Edit: Oooh ooh ooh! They're halving the application fee to get to Canada - they're trying to make it easier for skilled workers. Sounds like they're a bit desperate. Maybe they'll have me after all...

On an entirely un-food-related note, the other day I spent five hours looking for a picture to use on the cover of our training brochure for 2007, because no one in the Marketing team had managed and they were getting stressed.

I did it on my own time, sort of for the fun of it (which, yes, I appreciate is a bit sad) and everyone loves it. It's almost certainly going to be used! This is Stuff That Makes Me Look Good #1.

Then, Sally asked me to proof-read the brochure for her. Which I did. In minute detail. She then took it to the head of PR, Richard, who I know quite well. He was apparently impressed and mentioned getting me to do stuff for his department!

This is Stuff That Makes Me Look Good #2.

Stuff That Makes Me Look Good #3 is that I have finally caught up with all my work, cleared the department's invoices and am the current top booker.

Go. Me.

We had our appraisal training at work today. My God - it's supposed to reassure us, but I was sitting there nearly having a nervous breakdown about every tiny thing! I'm so insecure in my job it's pathetic, really. I've been mistreated by employers so often - and although my current boss is lovely and very likeable, I still always find myself waiting for the bomb to drop.

They're going to employ someone to become Marketing Assistant, as well, which is disappointing. It'll mean they do the jobs I used to do for Sally, which made my job a bit more varied. She linked me to the job description, but they want someone with a business degree - which I don't - and although I know I could do the job, I can't even apply for it.

Wah, etc.

After a few days with next to no sleep - no idea why, just random insomnia - I've been getting better. I woke up and skimmed Millennium, this morning, which I need to screencap in order to add the shots to the archive for TCO, at 7.00am (how is it possibly to change your appearance that much in a few months? Even a year? Madness). I'm exhausted now, and glad tomorrow is Friday. I don't even have to look neat for work because it's dress-down day, thank God.

I wish I could sleep all weekend. I could, really, if I wanted, I suppose. But if I'm honest, I have things I should be doing - like socialising. I don't do that enough any more - not in real time. With my friends mostly scattered across the Western Hemisphere it's a bit difficult to nip out for a pint or to the movies (must see Harry Potter!) or go to gigs. I don't even have Jason to gig with any more, because he's in Oxford. Wah, wah, wah.