Thurs 23/07/09 – 21:30

Sleepy. Also, I probably shouldn't be on my laptop. My eyes are burning nastily in my skull from spending eight and a half hours or staring at a screen. Logging has officially lost any charm it may have once possessed. That said, I got to spend all day picking over footage from keyhole surgery (a prostatectomy, to be precise) that was actually rather interesting and not very gory. It was genuinely amazing to see how little blood was involved in the whole thing and how delicate it was. Good stuff, but it does get a little tiring after the first four hours. Then you realise one of the alarms in the operating room sounds like the warning alarm on the original Star Trek. Awesome.

More excitingly, though, I got my fridge today! Yay! I have just turned and am massively over-excited by the prospect of milk and orange juice. Living off non-fridge goods has been surprisingly challenging and has probably not very good for me, though instant, Chinese, imported noodles will always have a place in my cupboard. To celebrate, I went to the Co-op to buy some perishables and spring rolls, but they had run out of the latter, to my dismay. This detour meant that as I left the Co-op, I was greeted by a crack of lightening as the heavens opened. The problem with Highgate – it's high up and thus on a hill. This is normally okay, but in the rain it means that getting home is genuinely like wading uphill through a stream. I had an umbrella, but was nonetheless soaked by horizontal precipitation in about three minutes (I realised that my white linen skirt was something of an error at this point). Still, I shared my ineffectual brolly with a poor, bedraggled lady huddled under a tree (who had just come back from Majorca – hah!) a little further than my flat and returned to jump in the shower having only taken my sandals off to remove the worst of the mud. Fun times.

But anyway, I also have a shiny new dining table and sideboard – I shall have to buy some whiskey and decanters to put in it for high-brow visitors. But yes, the flat is starting to shape up nicely, and once I get a few things from Nottingham at the weekend I shall feel quite at home. Huzzah.

I had a job interview yesterday, which I've not heard back about. She asked me to tell me anything about myself, so I told her that I did German Medieval long-sword fencing. It made an impression, but we'll see whether it's the right sort of one. Still, I have another interview tomorrow for an (unpaid, alas) internship of sorts at another media company, which sounds really interesting. I shall let you know how that goes. In other news, signing on for Jobseeker's allowance is a hassle. I particularly enjoyed trying to explain the difference between loans and bursaries to the woman on the phone. Honestly.

Has anybody been to the beach in Nottingham yet? I saw in the Metro that there's a pool and a few tons of sand in Market Square. Do tell me about it of you have – is it filthy yet? I don't think I'll have time to have a nosey at the weekend. I'm back on Saturday for a house-mate's 21st BBQ (probably in the rain, knowing Tom's British ways), then packing up and shipping out of Derby Road for good. I know I've already left, but I'll be sad to know that it's no longer a housing option. At least the journey won't be too Red Bull-fuelled, as the tallest, gayest Peter will be accompanying me both ways and doubtless be keeping me awake on the road. How inconsiderate. Only kidding, it'll be nice to have the company for a change. I look forward to seeing those who are attending.

And on that note, I'm going to put stuff in the fridge. Home-making tendencies ahoy!
*Flounces off, dispersing scatter-cushions and giggling.*

Sun 19/07/09 – 16:27

I must confess that I cannot remember a time when I found myself in a position such as now, where nothing really needs doing. Yes, I need to find a job, hang up the clothes that are still lying on the floor and finish some of the work I've been doing for my dad, but none of it needs to be done immediately. Nonetheless, I might have a prod at all three later.

I still have no job, obviously, but work experience is puttering along nicely and another company has asked if I could do one day a week of work experience for them. I may well take them up on it, because it's slightly more my sort of thing than the current placement. That said, the lovely Glynis (a cheery Scottish lady) has just rung me up to tell me that I'm going to go on a shoot tomorrow in Brixton, which should be interesting. Apparently we're filming the lady whose breast reduction I got to look at in such graphic detail to see how the operation has gone. Boobs ahoy. Lovely. I shall have to leave my prudish side in a cupboard when I go.

London is still proving interesting and quite liveable, though I am getting progressively more concerned about money. Damn. Still, I get generous expenses paid weekly, it turns out, for by my 'employers'. I may need to get a move on with getting a job after all.

The flat is still nice, improved by the fact that I now have a bed! Huzzah! And the internet! Still no fridge, alas, so my diet is largely noodles once again, but I like it. Laura came to visit this weekend (Boydy fell out of a plane and thus couldn't make it or something. What a shock.) and, after traipsing all over south-east London (with Maddy, for some reason) browsing, we have pretty much decided to live here for the now. This makes me happy. So, it should be Boydy, Laura and I living here for at least six months from September, though I'm evidently here already. Now I can bring down some more of my stuff and set up properly. :) I'll let you know if we have a house-warming do.

So yes, Laura stayed over Friday to Saturday, Maddy joined us on Saturday, and Leeanne (abusing my proximity to High Wickham) joined us Saturday, departing today. A right hotchpotch of friends, I tell you. Leeanne got to join us on our jaunt to Clapham for house-hunting, which was probably a bit odd. Then we met up with Peter & Lizzy in Angel for dinner, which was very pleasant. That prompted today's rendezvous, which saw Leeanne, Peter and I trawling through the British Museum looking mainly at stuff from Medieval Europe (I really do love the British Museum. I am such a history geek). It left me really wanting a replica copy of the Lewis Chessmen. One day, I tell you.

Leeanne's midday departure was followed by a brief yomp by Peter and I up to the top of Hampstead Heath (which I'm pretty close to). It turns out it's nice and breezy up there so, inspired by some kite-fliers, I'm going to pick up my kite from home when I nip back to Nottingham next weekend for Tom's 21st/to clear out 339 and have a go at losing it up that hill. It's all excitement, I tell you. Mind you, I'm seriously threatening to go to a re-enactment show at Sutton Hoo in three weeks, so it's amazing how quickly you can waste your week.

Okay, time to go have a power nap; the world is tilting nastily before my eyes. Honestly, my balance is shot – it feels like I'm on a boat half the time at the minute. Maybe it's swine flu. :D
I leave you with a fun game I invented driving back after graduation.

Required: A long stretch of road, a vehicle, a can of Red Bull, loud rock music, worrying fatigue.
Aim: To not fall asleep and crash. See how many miles you can drive whilst holding a swig of Red Bull under your tongue before the burning sensation becomes too painful to continue doing so. Continue until the can is empty, you beat a set target, or the sugar high becomes too intense to drive safely. Red Bull is the recommended energy drink of choice, as it contains the least toxic waste. It's fun. Honest.

Wed 15/07/09 – 01:18

Bloggity blog! I've got an internet connection! Quick!

So, I'm back in my room (I'm still paying for it, even if I only plan to sleep in it twice more) in the delightfully rainy Nottingham. I successfully drove up here in just over two hours (without my wheeled contraption of choice turning into a fireball, remarkably) in blinding sunshine to unnecessarily loud old-school rock, which is rapidly turning into a hobby of sorts and is surprisingly fun. If only there was air conditioning and petrol didn't cost money, it would be awesome.

I digress, though. I'm here until tomorrow afternoon for, in case you somehow can't guess, my graduation ceremony. I expect it'll be comprised of 2% collecting degree, 98% hand-clapping and wishing the room wasn't so warm. On the plus side: GOWNS. If you've seen my winter wardrobe at all then you'll know I'm a sucker for billowy, pretentious outfits in the spectrum of grey, so I'm obviously terribly overexcited at the prospect of flapping around in a black tent for the morning in a silly hat. No really, I'm that sad. And smiling at the notion as I type. Yes.
The parents are being summoned for the occasion (My sister will spend the ceremony on top of a mountain. In the rain. In Wales. Poor thing.), but that's hardly news, as Dad in particular practically live in Nottingham these days with his work on Jubilee campus and CCAN (it'll apparently be open soon – honest). I'll let you know how it goes, but afterward I'm hauling back down south to my futon and noodle-based dinners.

The 'job' is okay. Myself and two other girls are spending ten til six on weekdays doing a process called 'logging'. This entails watching unedited camera footage, known as 'rushes', for documentaries they're doing, and then writing down what happens in it – what the cameras are doing every time they change angle, what can be seen, what's being said and when every thing happens. It's laborious and slow (it took me six hours to go through one hour of rushes today), but essential for putting together the good bits later on to make an actual programme in the editing suite, which we might get to look at later on. It's a bit tiresome, but I'm happy doing it because you have to pay attention constantly, and that keeps my brain ticking over, stopping my consciousness from imploding with boredom. This is a Good Thing. What's not good is that I spent seven hours of Monday watching horrifically graphic footage of a breast reduction. Sure, you become desensitised after the first twenty minutes, but I don't want to make a habit of typing 'Close-up of doctor stitching nipples.' Ick.

The lack of money is starting to bother me though. It looks like I'll only get expenses bac at the end, and it's costing me £4.40 in tube fare alone every day, never mind lunch and stuff. Or rent. Bah. So, I'm making an effort to offer my soul to anyone who'll employ me. Unfortunately, it looks like everyone else is as well, but we'll see how it goes.

Am liking the flat, though. Sure, I've still got no fridge because they couldn't fit it in the lift, and there's no bed, sofa or internet yet, but it's a nice space (art deco – 1930s build) and the views really are absolutely stunning. I enjoy just staring out the windows over central London. I'll try and take some photos to illustrate. Laura, Maddy and the elusive Boyd are coming down on Saturday to see if it's viable for us, and look at other houses. It'll be chaos.

And now, to make the most of being in an actual bed. *Sprawls*

(That said, the futon is kind of comfy...)

Sat 11/07/09 – 02:07

Pretentious and nonsensical title chosen, I thus begin my long-plotted blog. I apologise in advance for being dull, but I decided that a blog would be the best way to keep people updated with what I'm up to – I imagine the coming year may be somewhat chaotic. Apologies also for not using LiveJournal to those with accounts there, but I've used it before and never much cared for it, I'm afraid.

It's pretty early in the morning as I write, though I may not get round to posting this until tomorrow morning when I rise once more. I've been attempting (and failing) to remove wall decorations whilst watching the last episode of Torchwood (which I quite enjoyed in a mindless way) for the last hour, trying to use my fingernails to prise the many pins out of the walls. I gave up on that, though, and opted to lever them out with a throwing knife instead. Useful things. The state of packing is not great, though, to be honest. I'm getting there, but I always forget just how much stuff I have and thus never have enough boxes to move all the tat, which is why I've stopped. Nonetheless, almost everything is sorted for London tomorrow, bar a few bits and pieces, which is the important part. The rest will likely wait until Wednesday afternoon, or possibly the 25th/26th, when I'm back for Tom's birthday and the final clean-up of 339. Joy.

So, London. Meeting Maddy's parents (who are kindly letting me rent their 3-bed flat remarkably cheaply at four days notice) at the flat at 4pm tomorrow. It's in Highgate, which is as convenient as could be expected, and looks very pleasant indeed. The only issue is that there's nothing in the flat except, I am told, a microwave, a television, a cooker, pans and curtains. The fridge arrives on Monday, the carpets on Tuesday, the Internet on Thursday and the beds...some time. Thus, I am taking a beanbag in lieu of a sofa, and today went on a voyage to buy an Ikea futon mattress thing (the actual futon was expensive and not really necessary) to sleep on. Lovely. Still, I can't complain considering how little hassle this all is to me. I am very grateful indeed!

The purpose of hauling myself down there at such short notice is for unpaid work experience, alas. The job interview I went to on Tuesday yielded good feedback (“We'll be keeping your details, and we may call you if one of the others turns out to be unsuitable.”), but no actual job. Considering my abject lack of experience as a runner (a media monkey, not an athlete), however, I think it went pretty well, especially when I know that over 130 people applied for just two positions. Welcome to the media, baby. Fortunately, a company rang me up out of the blue to offer me this work experience doing basically the same job later that day, and whilst it's unpaid for about three weeks, it does give me experience that could make the difference next time round. Companies like runners who have experience, so it's a bit of a vicious, exclusive circle for newcomers. We'll see how it goes. I'm appallingly optimistic.

That'll do for bringing you up to speed. I'm going to sleep. If the Deathmobile car doesn't explode tomorrow on the way down, I'll endeavour to find an internet cafe or something in the next few days to let you know how the futon is working out. Also the Tube. The sweaty, sweaty Tube. I may remove the jumpers from my luggage.