When September 11th...

...(as it is known, rather than 11/9) happened, the first thing I did on getting home (I was in Australia at the time) was book a long flight. While the rest of the world mourned, I felt nothing other than the need to get out and experience life.

The morning after 7/7 (the date is the same in any variance of English), I got on a bus and got on with things. Maybe because I knew that had I not been running late the morning before as I made my way to Arsenal tube station, I could have easily been on the train that was bombed between Russell Square and King's Cross.

Or maybe it was because I was a Londoner.

Today - after watching the country being torn apart for the last few days - I sit home and lament.

I am getting too old for the destruction of the world and mankind.

There are things that I want to be out doing today, but I'm not doing them.

I know that good comes from bad...

Indeed, all one has to do is look to my first sentence above: without said long flight (to the UK), I would have not found myself living in this country 9 years, 7 months and 18 days later.

Yes, this country which has broken my heart a little bit more time and time again.

Especially this week.

But it is home.

...but while I would like to be able to focus on

All I see is

This display of both love and hate has gradually become my image of the week.

I did not realise how despondent I was feeling until putting it into 140 characters last evening (about football today): "It's strange how unimportant it feels after the last few days. I am feeling somewhat scarred.".

After that, I was in and out of tears for some time, as I thought of all the horrible things the world does to us.

And after a very restless night's sleep that resulted in being hardly able to drag myself out of bed until nearly 11am, my first 'public' thought this morning was: "I am sad that the last week of sadness has drained me of enthusiasm for this day I've been waiting for. No joy, no motivation, no football."

I got out of bed today, and will get myself out this funk. Maybe in an hour, maybe in two days.

Until then, my sofa is my haven.

natasha . . .

I felt overwhelmingly sad awakening to the news of Natasha Richardson's death.

I'm not entirely sure why I feel so affected by it, but wrote the following to a friend early this morning, and felt like also posting it here . . .

For the last several years, this is the photo that has adorned the website and printed promo material for the lone small theatre I still regularly attend. Whenever I'd hear anything about Natasha or the theatre, I'd always automatically put the two together.

The image is from The Lady from the Sea from 2003, which I didn’t go to see but remember when it was being publicised because it was around the time of my Redgrave fascination/serendipitousness*.

It’s funny, I’ve often thought ‘why do they still use that same old photo after all this time, they should really remove it…’ but of course I’m sure they won’t now. I hope not, anyway.

* Around 6 years ago, I happened upon an entire floor of exhibition space about the Redgrave family at the Theatre Museum in London. A rather quaint homage, really. I wasn't working at the time, and it was free, so I went back a few times, and throughout this time, things about one Redgrave/Richardson or another kept coming up.

I always thought it odd but fascinating that this was a permanent exhibition. The theatre was fabulous, and I used to always take visitors there (no one ever seemed as interested as I), but lost its funding 2-3 years ago and was shut down. Part of the building now forms something useless like a Starbucks. Very depressing.

I always meant to go back and visit the Redgraves before their lives were removed, but never made it. Natasha's tragic fate has now reminded me of that.

Perhaps my unwitting fascination with her is also fuelled by the fact I had to watch The Parent Trap at least, roughly, 25+ times due to a previous job and my mother running a home daycare (where the film was much-loved by the kiddies) during a time when I'd had to move back home.

I've only a vague memory of A Handmaid's Tale; I think it included something untoward, so of course immediately went onto the teenage 'must see' list. I can recall hiring it from the local video shop, my friends and I disappointed to find it wasn't as racy as we'd been expecting!

Thinking about the opening line of the BBC's obituary: 'Natasha Richardson spent much of her life being labelled; first as the daughter of Vanessa Redgrave and then as the wife of Liam Neeson. '

In my younger days, I didn't know any of this, and it wouldn't have mattered anyhow. If I'd needed to label her, it probably would have been something such as 'beautiful English lady'.

What more could one want?

eek, i'm a tourist . . .

. . . or it felt that way this morning, anyway

of course i'd seen the signs for the past few weeks, advising customers that the interchange between over and underground lines would be changing from 28th may and that signage would accompany duly

but i wasn't prepared for a whole new station (ish) ! they've been working on it for ages, but when there are barricade thingies all round - behind which you assume there is simply a little corner for the builders to have their tea - it is truly amazing to discover they've been building a whole new everything back there

suddenly i was a tourist in my own city/station - wandering about aimlessly without a clue as to where i was, needed to go, how to get there and why

once i found the platform, of course i realised it was the same one as usual, but just a bloody long way round to get there. typical. they renovate the full lot, but make it more difficult for me to get from here to there, rather than simpler

i'm additionally saddened by the completion of this work because sometimes when coming home late at night, the guys were working on the area through which i needed to walk, so they would open a short cut, through which it took about 30secs to cross the distance rather than 3mins(ish). damn

by the way, what's with ken using a photo that's decades (ok, maybe years) old . . . we all know he has no hair now, so he may as well give us a current pic

Currently reading: Global Finance by Leo Gough
Current mood: mischevious/uncertain/a bit giddy

so on my way home tonight . . .

. . . there were about...guessing...20?ish coppers at the station I always pass through. they were sort of spread out as well, so not sure if maybe something happened. too tired to ask

though I did notice that they have installed a airport-stylely detector thing, which is new since yesterday! I had heard they were going to trial one of these at a random station that is a bit off the path, which seemed pointless. glad to see they are also doing this in this other station, which is a perfect place to have one (largest and busiest station in london - and where the bomber boys arrived/disseminated)

bit unsettling with all the coppers, though - it's not them I mind, but whoever they're looking for . . .

a list of things i do and places i go. . .

. . . really should be started, before i forget what i do or where i go. must come up with some categories, etc. . .

i'll start now, off the top of my head and nearby pinboard:

bbc taping - the write stuff - waterstone's (yes, there is a secret room on the 6th floor) - 27 april 2006 (inc guest john o'farrell, whose book i loved so much, i read it twice - and some other people i didn't know; nb: comments tbd re the female reader with 'the voice')

theatre - period of adjustment - almeida theatre - 25 april 2006 (more tbd - for now, i saw this guy there in the audience)

theatre - resurrection blues - the old vic - xx april 2006 (featuring matthew modine and neve campbell (yes, julia from party of five - or, to any male readers - yes, the one who snogged denise richards in wild things) and others whom i can't remember at the moment)

bbc taping - counterpoint (music quiz radio show - special 20thyr anniversary edition) - drill hall - xx april 2006 (inc guest julian lloyd-webber (who i have always thought was andrew's son until this very moment, when searching for this link - they are brothers!)

bbc taping - never mind the full stops x2 (new bbc4 telly programme - channel 4 - xx march 2006 (presented by the (surprisingly) ever so impish julian fellows; inc guests carol thatcher, janet street-porter and a few others i'd never heard of (like ned sherrin, who was terribly english...so i went to see him record counterpoint, as above!))

music - classic concert with motoki hirai and john pearce - st cyprian's church - 18 march 2006

theatre - the producers - theatre royal drury lane - 23 november 2005

theatre - romance - almeida theatre - 28 september 2005 (featuring the top mancunian, john mahoney)

theatre - a life in the theatre - apollo theatre - 3 march 2005 (featuring patrick stewart and josh jackson (yes, pacey from dawson's creek - he's all grown up now!) - we saw them both in their knickers)

you know what those sirens mean, don't you . . .

. . . it means the gooners may well be at it all night

but hey - we won ! a few down, one to go . . . phew

strangers on a . . .

. . . train

at around 23.30 this evening, when i was about to get on a piccadilly line train - having taken the circle line from baker street to kings cross - a girl got off the piccadilly train who i had seen about 11hrs earlier on the westbound circle/hammersmith/metropolitan platform. how kooky is that? in a city of millions. this kind of thing happens to me at least a couple of times a year

i recognised the girl in question because she was wearing a super fab little green skirt with little white dots on it; i'd been tempted this morning to ask her where she'd got it. wonder if she recognised me as well - i felt like she looked at me for an extra second when she passed, but that doesn't mean it actually happened. how many people notice other people in their usual commute?

i remember when the bombings happened, and reading various accounts of train passengers after the fact. i recall one of them saying something like 'after the bomb went off, sat opposite me in the carriage was the girl who i'd seen nearly every day for the past several months - i'd always wondered about her' (she ended up either dead/passed out/lost limb/similar - i can't remember)

but of course people do notice, even though most would prefer to pretend they don't. funny thing - one has no idea if the person they've seen every day for 3 years - yet to whom they offer no recognition - could well be their next best mate or partner. interesting thought...

which reminds me of when i first started my blog, and the friends i met on the old thameslink commute that i used to take each day . . . so just a little side note, for those keeping score - the lady whom i called june back in 2004 ended up meeting a guy when she and i were commuting friends - they both work for a rail company and would bump into each other at monthly meetings - he seemed to fancy her (he brought her biccies to one meeting!) but she was: 1) blind to it 2) in denial

see, he was white and she was black and it had never occurred to her that this was something that could happen. she was also in her late 30s with two kids and a truly rotten ex-partner, and/so she felt she was finished with all that love stuff, and couldn't possibly ever meet anyone, bless her. he also had a long-term partner with whom he was in the middle of splitting - so dear june was adamant and cautious about keeping her distance

however, through various trials and tribulations, they eventually: started dating, meeting each others' kids and parents, going on holiday, moving in together, getting engaged, planning a wedding for august 2006 (which is hopefully still happening, since i've not been in touch with her since before christmas!)

all together now for the big sigh - ahhhh


Currently reading: All Men Have Secrets, edited by Tom Gallagher

right, ok, so it's . . .

. . . fine - i'm over it now. honest. show's over folks, there's nothing to see here

i know they say this kind of crap to everyone, but they did say that it was a very difficult decision, blah blah and that they were really impressed with my enthusiasm and the amount of research that i had done, etc (too bloody right)

and they would like to meet with me later this week to provide personal and detailed feedback. which is good, i guess - i've never heard of anyone else doing that. but i suppose they may feel they have to in order to preserve relations and that. hmm, i seem unable to work out a way to spell the sound i am making

the biggest disappointment is the overall long-term picture here; this could have really been the catalyst for my continual visa issues. not could have - would have, i'm quite sure

but of course things 'happen as they are meant to', of which i am aware, yet still wonder if perhaps someone is trying to tell me something and i need to give up this ridiculous battle of finding a way to stay here. i don't even have fun anymore, because i'm so concerned about how i'm going to eat and finish this stupid degree, which will only result in my having to leave. what's the point, then?

blech

i might also add the oddness of the comment on the phone (from caller) of 'well, thank you for taking the news so well' - how the plucking pluck hell else am i going to bloody take it at that precise moment while he's still there on the phone?

now if i only i had someone to take me out for a nice evening on the town . . .


Current mood: indifferent
Currently listening: Under the Big Black Sun By X

i did not get the job

advised - 4.48pm - 6 march 2006

off to cry now


Current mood: disappointed

just in case i wanted to . . .

. . . embarrass myself further, following the meeting with the boss lady the other day

today i came in to do some things at work. i look terrible. i mean, terrible. mind you, i'm showered with clean hair, make-up and such but really poor effort on what i am wearing and the overall look. but it's sunday, for boo-boo's sake

so when going to my office, who's coming down the stairs, as i'm going up? yes, that's right. boss lady again. timing was of course everything - since it's so lovely out, i had brought my camera along to take some photos to show non-uk'ers where i work and such. had i gone right instead of left when deciding what pics to take, i wouldn't have run into her

she smiled, as if she realised she had seen me before. i should have just done the same and carried on. but nooooooooooooo, i had to be a complete goon and immediately say that we met the other day in the loo when i'd burnt my hand, and i'm sorry about that (why was i sorry? i have no idea!), and by the way, i wanted to say before that i am being currently considered for the dubai job. oh dear - 'nutter', she must be thinking, 'thanks for the warning'

but she just sort of 'oh, i was just working on that, where do you work now?'. not sure how involved she is with the set-up, but guessing completely, and perhaps she has seen the interview notes from friday! which is ok, i guess, considering how it went

i digress, as usual

why can i sometimes say terribly brilliant and clever things straight off the mark when encountering someone unexpectedly, yet in this instance(s), behave like such a ninny!

in other news, we are having some major building works done at work over coming months; yesterday, some temporary builder/worker-man huts went up in the car park (pic coming soon); they were installing them when I came in yesterday. because of their positioning, we and they will be able to look straight into each others' windows at will for the next seven months. that’ll be comfy

ok, so i had . . .

. . . the interview today

it is but to laugh...i experienced so much anguish over my covering letter and cv (which i suppose has been to my advantage) as well as reading a ridiculous amount of background information*, competitor-related stuff, dreading the 'tell us about a time you provided good customer service' or 'what kind of tree would you be' questions

[*i seriously turned up with a categorised binder full of my research and a notebook full of questions and comments, monica's-wedding-book styley; surely i frightened both chaps with this]

i didn't even receive the full job description until last evening, so what was included there didn't get as much preparation as it should have (or, er, it's ok now that it didn't. oh never mind, just read on)

so the laughing bit - my interview:

1) started 25mins late, as the other candidate was still in there when i knocked on the door - whoops - didn't get a look at the person, though

2) lasted about 20mins. one might think this is a bad thing, since it should have gone for an hour or so. fortunately, my application had pretty much spoken for itself (if i do say so myself, ahem)

3) was given by two people i already knew. phew

4) involved absolutely none of what i had researched

5) was inclusive of me being terribly charming and saying lots of clever things; therefore

6) went brilliantly!

i wasn't hit with any adverse questions, nor did we much talk about anything in the job description; since the job would entail helping to set up an entire new office, it was more about how would i implement this and that. thought i'd been caught out at one point when i'd said there were aspects of it that may be daunting, and one of them asked me 5mins later what i'd meant by that. whoops. tut tut, fluff fluff

as i answered some of the questions, they nodded vigorously and all but seemed to be helping me to answer the slightly difficult ones. they kept looking at each other and raising their eyebrows and nodding (in a good way). 'cool', methinks, 'it's going as well as i think it is'

i might also add that I was looking super fabo in my profesho suit and heels

they then said that everything i was saying was great, jolly good, spot on, etc. and/but that they thought i was overqualified for the role, and wanted to re-think the situation since there are only two roles for the project - director and coordinator/administrator (i'm ok with low level for a few months!). they want to have a think and come back to me after they do director interviews on monday. they can't possibly think i am qualified to be a director, can they!? whew. and in a role that requires an mba and xx years of experience in the particular industry (two things i do not have - nor do i even feel ready for such an undertaking)

perhaps a change of job titles would suffice. and salary of course! worst case, reckon, is that they decide i am over-qualified for one, under-qualified for the other, and go with someone(s) else entirely. but now they know what i am potentially capable of, something for them to remember next time something fab comes up. mind you, the dubai one could help me to get my prize visa, whereas another opportunity would not. drat

right then - speed type - back to work

Current mood: accomplished

Currently listening: Different Class By Pulp

shooby dooby dubai

since i have been remiss in my blogging duties of late, i'm just going to dive straight in, as if you already know what i'm on about . . .

so i have done it - i have just applied for a job in dubai. i can not believe how much i have laboured over my covering letter [can you say nearly 3-4 days straight? - really sad - they (whoever they are) should really offer a course in how to not be a obsessively pedantic perfectionist]

in the first several days of hearing about the job (and following discussion with the decision-maker), i was feeling quite confident about at least being considered. then i found out a couple of days ago that there are at least two others being considered who are already working with the key people/on the project in question. so it could well be a matter of them having only advertised the job because the recruiting guidelines say they have to. that's just not nice

on the upside, i also learned that a flat would be provided (gratis), as will monthly flights to the uk - albeit for business purposes, but presumably still with time to see friends and stock up at tesco and waitrose. the salary is also decentish, and would offer a swell opportunity to start saving money again, bearing in mind there would be no rent and no taxes (woo)

the closing date is tomorrow morning, and since they want a team in place by the end of march, i assume the process will move rather quickly. if i don't even get through the first round, i won't feel too dejected, because i know that i have presented them with a damn good application. so in the words of the iconic doris day, whatever will be, will be . . .

apologies re the secrecy surrounding any details on what the role entails, but the project is still confidential at this stage; not that you would have any need or interest in telling anyone, but y'know...

Current mood: relieved
Currently reading: Time Management - self-development for managers By Chris Croft

rail connections, part4

well, I finally broke ole black coat. am just pleased as punch with self

this evening I took an earlier train than usual, which found me at the station at which he always alights(am)/joins(pm)

soon as I got off my first train (to connect), spotted him sitting there on the side waiting for our usual train and I just walked right up, said 'alright?' and sat down next to him...and we chatted, chatted, chatted for nearly an hour! we conversed there whilst waiting, sat next to each other on train, where I assumed he'd take his escape - nope, he/we went on and on all the way through. we always get off at the same stop, but I usually jump on the bus home from there, while I've noticed he waits for the next train that goes to our a.m. station...since ours was running a bit late, I decided to stay and wait for the train as well. chatter chatter chatter whilst waiting. just far too amusing - thought would (still think might) burst at prospect of June hearing about this tomorrow morning! ha! if i get to tell her, that is, as they both usually turn up at the same time, about 30secs before the train turns up

anyhoo, when he first began to speak more animatedly, thought for sure he must be gay, much to my surprise...but towards the end as we said goodbye, I actually thought he might fancy me. that, or thought I might be a fun friend, which would be fine by me! he just asked me OODLES of questions...interesting...as well as asked if I got out much at the w/end. also when we parted at the station, he asked if I had a long walk home (though I had already told him where I lived - when he asked, mind!). he's not fanciable, but I sure wouldn't say no to a local friend, since I haven't got any. when I said 'have a lovely evening, see you tomorrow', he v happily said, 'yes YES, see you tomorrow!' bless

he mentioned several times that he loves, LOVES I tell you, Berlin; must investigate if big gay community in Berlin...

my work is done here

rail connections, part3

June and I are getting on like a house on fire on the trains each morning...makes the time fly right by

perhaps it was the sun, maybe the outfit I was wearing, or just knowing I have a day off tomorrow (yeah!), but today I said 'MorNEENING' (yes - sing-songy) to black coat (who no longer wears the coat in such fabulous weather). I was afraid June might fall over, it was bad enough she caught her breath loudly and slapped her hand to her mouth in a Janice-style 'Oh My God' gesture...I told her she must stop, or he was going to notice and think I fancied him. I don't. I just sorta felt it was my/our duty to subtly remind him that he sees us twice a day, every day of our lives (at the mo, anyway), and it wouldn't hurt to acknowledge such

I'd hoped to catch the cute grey/spikey haired, bespectacled boy this morning, since I was so early; no joy...

I had to run for my train home this evening...I didn't like it. I'm in no shape at all to be doing such things; thank god I no longer smoke. bought some new, painful shoes (and changed into immediately) at lunch today, so that didn't help things move along any quicker. The lovely older chap who sometimes smiles at me with a mild 'alright?' saw me running and held the train door, bless him. I babbled on about never being so late, he just smiled and probably thought I was a big fat goon for breathing and sweating like I was smack-dab in the midst of running the London Marathon...

rail connections, part2

black coat (as noted previously) turned up yesterday - with a LEAP even - without his black coat. I thought June was going to silently fall over...funny how she thinks just like me with regards to our fellow transporters

today black coat came without the coat AND in a light-coloured shirt. shocking. he still does not acknowledge me (us), of course...he's very slim without that coat. he should be without it more often

gave June some arsenal trading cards for her 10yr old son...said hiya to one of going-home commuters...nearly told the guy at my evening station 'nice haircut, by the way' after his very huge messy large hair (and facial) disappeared...i chickend out, though. probably the american accent that keeps me from it (darn it)

have made passing-chums with my local station agent...

rail connections

I made a new friend yesterday...er, new acquaintance? in a land where people don't speak to each other unless there is a good reason (not faulting it - I like it), I've recently thrown caution to the proverbial wind, and spoken to some of my fellow daily commuters (scary)

There's one woman who takes my train each morning - it's a small station, so there's only 3 of us who are there faithfully each day; there are two others who are there every now and then.

A few weeks ago, I caught the eye of said fellow-female commuter (we shall call her June), and we ended up smiling and saying Good Morning a few times after - one day she even came over and offered me a piece of chewing gum - amazing! Nice lady, but we didn't really speak much...

A couple of days ago, the sun decided to come out, which of course puts everyone in a slightly better mood. June began to chat with me while we were waiting, and we ended up sitting together on the train and chitter chattering all the way to her stop - she's lovely! Funny how you've no idea how someone will be - or expect them to be quite different - until you actually make an effort to find out.

She too found the non-speaking-commuting rule amusing (although a native Londoner) and we discussed our fellow station-friends, and how we seemed invisible to them. A few days prior, I'd had a brief moment where I felt like a complete idiot, after briefly speaking to one of the sometimers and he looked at me as if he had no idea who I was, and didn't see me nearly 5 days of each week!

I mentioned to June that she hadn’t been at the train one day a few weeks prior, and I’d almost worried…she laughed and said that surely our fellow commuters would notice my absence over the next two days, and ask her where I was. Right.

The day before June and I started chatting, I'd got brave by also speaking to one of my going-home travellers (completely different clientele on my evening commute, them), lamenting about nearly being late and missing the train, etc. That chap actually smiled at me today, and held the train door open for me. But I digress...

Same day I spoke to him, I also asked a question of Black Coat Bloke, who is every day at my morning station; he, June, and I are the only steadfast visitors. He never speaks, never smiles, never changes his expression in any way. He always seems to saunter up the stairs to the platform without a care in the world at the very last minute, nearly every day; I always wonder how he manages to never miss the train - does he know something I don't? does he live opposite or next door?

He also always wears a nice suit and very heavy black coat, as observed June in our conversation about how unapproachable he appears. I told her how I'd spoken to him the previous morning, to ask how he'd got home the last couple of days...he and I also take the same train home each day (not that he'd notice), and due to the weather, it hadn't run and I had a hell of a long-time sorting out how to - and ultimately getting - home. He was quite happy to offer various suggestions, and even smiled as he told me. I was v surprised. (of course, he’s not acknowledged my presence since)

June and I sat together and chatted the next day as well, which made the time fly right by, mostly discussing transport, transport rates, the evil of transport...and the weather, of course! I mentioned to her a little monthly column in the morning Metro about commuter love connections. What fun! We laughed about how if one of us did one for the other at our little station, it wouldn't be too difficult sussing out who'd said what. We discussed placing a note about how Black Coat didn't need to wear his black coat each day, and perhaps he should smile once in a while, and at least acknowledge that we all see each other, twice a day, about 250 days per year.

There's a cute boy at my station who takes the train going the other way every now and then...I've only seen him twice, when I've been running quite early, as his train comes much earlier than mine. He's rather fetching, and quirky-looking, with good hair, and more importantly, good shoes. I nearly spoke to him yesterday...but perhaps instead I should make a listing in next month's Metro Commuter Love Connection...