This is for all who i may have saddened a little with my last blog, especially the martini ladies (you know who you are). This photo was taken in Mombassa, Kenya and i feel strongly we should all meet there soon. Sleep well and may tomorrow be refreshing.Wednesday, 28 May 2008
Wordless Wednesday.
Bit late but with feeling!
This is for all who i may have saddened a little with my last blog, especially the martini ladies (you know who you are). This photo was taken in Mombassa, Kenya and i feel strongly we should all meet there soon. Sleep well and may tomorrow be refreshing.
This is for all who i may have saddened a little with my last blog, especially the martini ladies (you know who you are). This photo was taken in Mombassa, Kenya and i feel strongly we should all meet there soon. Sleep well and may tomorrow be refreshing.
Monday, 26 May 2008
No news ..and yet all the news
Bit weary and still waiting
I saw the bloody child’s handprint on the crumbling walls of the Chinese school this week. Don’t think I didn’t hear the general in Rangoon laughing his billionaire head off. The woman running to the police station in Jo’burg tripped and her baby flew over her head and broke his nose on the tarmac but was too terrified to cry and she picked him up and they ran on. I saw that. I saw that too.
I wait to hear about my own future and the millions seemingly without one still get up in the morning and wash their hair and dance. They still split and share their morning bread rolls and laugh at their drunken uncles and talk about ‘When’.
You know...I think I will be fine whatever happens next week.
Honestly.
I saw the bloody child’s handprint on the crumbling walls of the Chinese school this week. Don’t think I didn’t hear the general in Rangoon laughing his billionaire head off. The woman running to the police station in Jo’burg tripped and her baby flew over her head and broke his nose on the tarmac but was too terrified to cry and she picked him up and they ran on. I saw that. I saw that too.
I wait to hear about my own future and the millions seemingly without one still get up in the morning and wash their hair and dance. They still split and share their morning bread rolls and laugh at their drunken uncles and talk about ‘When’.
You know...I think I will be fine whatever happens next week.
Honestly.
Saturday, 24 May 2008
Unknown knowns...
Funnily enough I quite enjoyed the interview even though I spent the next 24 hours shaking and occasionally squeaking ‘Oh my GOD…did I say that? They must think I am an idiot!!’ (It is amazing what comes out of my mouth when I am under pressure.)
It was an hour and a half of quite intense interrogation including my presentation on ‘integrating strategic quality assurance and needs assessment analysis to the demographic…’. It will be worth NOT getting the job just so I never have to be so boring again…
And now it’s Saturday and I still haven’t heard.
Either this means they have told the lucky winner and the rest of us will get ‘a letter in the post’ or – and as likely- they are unable to come to a decision between themselves. This doesn’t bode too well for the future of the project…!
Hey ho, there is nothing I can do now but get on with the bank holiday and ensure that I strategically integrate the Cambridge real ale festival in to my CV….…
Have a good weekend wheresoere you may be dear readers! And a huge thank you for your support and thoughts! (If I don’t get the job I may have to tap you for a fiver…)
It was an hour and a half of quite intense interrogation including my presentation on ‘integrating strategic quality assurance and needs assessment analysis to the demographic…’. It will be worth NOT getting the job just so I never have to be so boring again…
And now it’s Saturday and I still haven’t heard.
Either this means they have told the lucky winner and the rest of us will get ‘a letter in the post’ or – and as likely- they are unable to come to a decision between themselves. This doesn’t bode too well for the future of the project…!
Hey ho, there is nothing I can do now but get on with the bank holiday and ensure that I strategically integrate the Cambridge real ale festival in to my CV….…
Have a good weekend wheresoere you may be dear readers! And a huge thank you for your support and thoughts! (If I don’t get the job I may have to tap you for a fiver…)
Wednesday, 21 May 2008
Scoping out the future
I have been a bit slack about writing this last few days but I have an excuse. You see I went to an audition!! I had been really scared about and I danced ..but I fell over..but I got up and I started again and it was wonderful. They loved me and now I am going to study ballet at Julliard and I have an aging hairy boyfriend ..and…oh no wait.... That was ‘Flashdance’.
Well I have an audition..ok a job interview for real. Today, in London, and I REALLY would like to do it. It is one of those jobs that comes along once or twice a decade and usually goes to someone with a couple of degrees in Management Speak but that aside it has the potential to help thousands of disabled people in UK. And, if you help us disabled people we will become over achievers and inspirational motivators and change society for the better. So there.
Most disabled people have to become courageous, patient, tenacious and think creatively. And that is just to get to the shops. Tap into that demographic, source the resources and standards that are our basic rights to live equally and vabaoom! Anything is possible.
So this afternoon I, actually in a dress, will go and chat for an hour with five people who may allow me to help change the future. No biggie then…..
Dennis has a hang over from eating all the peanut balls that were there for the finches. Serves him right..bloody squirrel.
Well I have an audition..ok a job interview for real. Today, in London, and I REALLY would like to do it. It is one of those jobs that comes along once or twice a decade and usually goes to someone with a couple of degrees in Management Speak but that aside it has the potential to help thousands of disabled people in UK. And, if you help us disabled people we will become over achievers and inspirational motivators and change society for the better. So there.
Most disabled people have to become courageous, patient, tenacious and think creatively. And that is just to get to the shops. Tap into that demographic, source the resources and standards that are our basic rights to live equally and vabaoom! Anything is possible.
So this afternoon I, actually in a dress, will go and chat for an hour with five people who may allow me to help change the future. No biggie then…..
Dennis has a hang over from eating all the peanut balls that were there for the finches. Serves him right..bloody squirrel.
Friday, 16 May 2008
Cambridge? Pooh!
I don’t mean to be rude but Cambridge smells of poo. Really and tru-ooly. Obviously I checked my ‘personal space’ and then the flat but when I went outside the poo smell got worse.
At the CAB offices I consult Gorgeous George the Computer Man.
‘George,’ I whisper. ‘Why does Cambridge smell…of..err so strangely..well of poo?’
George grimaces and in a hushed voice hisses, ‘It is to do with farming …silage …..in Holland. And wind current convection…wind.. you know..‘
(George is gorgeous to look at but a little nervous when it comes to small talk with large breasted ,computer illiterate, blondes..sadly)
‘Wind eh?’ I wink. He looks terrified. To sooth him I ask about double sided printing.
After a minute he suddenly, most bizarrely for George, leans in close. He looks almost tearful.
‘I am so glad you mentioned it..!’ he breathes.
I glance around at the rest of the poo smelling office. Not one person is acknowledging the reek. Not one wrinkled snout. Not one raised eyebrow. Good God…the British reserve. It makes me both proud and a tad nervous. Surely someone would raise a voice if this were toxic…write a stiff letter if this were atomic…surely?
I look again. Perhaps not.
Tonight I sob my way through ‘Beyond Boundaries’ BBC 2. I wasn’t sure about watching it but I am totally besotted with every one of the disabled teenagers crossing the Andes, literally, in some cases, with the skin of their teeth. After everything these incredible kids have had to go through in their lives they have managed to keep going to 4500mtrs and are nearly halfway. When they were hugged by a shaman in an Ecuadorian village. I reached for the gin. When Dale fell from the wheelchair injuring himself and Sean, oh lordy how wonderful is Sean, dropped his crutches to push the wheelchair up the mountain to the campsite I fell weeping to the floor.. I am up to my eyeballs researching equality and disability at the moment ..well what there is of it..(which ain't much boyo) and this lunatic documentary Is making me far too emotional..
Thank God for adverts. Did you know that Skoda make cars out of cake??? Cake goddamnnnn it!! Runs on golden syrup and jam and if you break down..which you, will you crazy hyperglycaemic fool, you can eat it. I love that advert. In a world where everything is sold on malice and greed, such a sweet clever delicious advert is so uplifting that I would buy a Skoda just because they made me smile so much.
As opposed to the car advert I think called the Toyota ‘Malice’, which is aimed at sociopath, sadistic OCD people and literally promotes destroying other peoples property and crushing their souls if in any way they scratch your Malice paintwork. If any potential date came to pick me up in a Toyota Malice I would run and hide in my cake Skoda.
And anyway I discovered the most marvellous thing any car can be equipped with. It was when I was in Toronto time before last..October and really cold and early and I leapt into Beautiful A’s car shivering and whimpering. We drove off and suddenly I became aware of a glorious sensation of warmth creeping up my thighs and bottom and into my lower back. I wasn’t sure what had happened…it didn’t feel wet…and I had not other explanation. A glanced at my strange expression and burst into hysterics.
‘It’s a seat warmer!’ She crowed delighted and appalled at my ignorance. A seat warmer.
My god. The bliss of a hot bottom on a cold day in a fast car on an autumn day. I tell you what. Toronto didn’t ever smell of poo…..
At the CAB offices I consult Gorgeous George the Computer Man.
‘George,’ I whisper. ‘Why does Cambridge smell…of..err so strangely..well of poo?’
George grimaces and in a hushed voice hisses, ‘It is to do with farming …silage …..in Holland. And wind current convection…wind.. you know..‘
(George is gorgeous to look at but a little nervous when it comes to small talk with large breasted ,computer illiterate, blondes..sadly)
‘Wind eh?’ I wink. He looks terrified. To sooth him I ask about double sided printing.
After a minute he suddenly, most bizarrely for George, leans in close. He looks almost tearful.
‘I am so glad you mentioned it..!’ he breathes.
I glance around at the rest of the poo smelling office. Not one person is acknowledging the reek. Not one wrinkled snout. Not one raised eyebrow. Good God…the British reserve. It makes me both proud and a tad nervous. Surely someone would raise a voice if this were toxic…write a stiff letter if this were atomic…surely?
I look again. Perhaps not.
Tonight I sob my way through ‘Beyond Boundaries’ BBC 2. I wasn’t sure about watching it but I am totally besotted with every one of the disabled teenagers crossing the Andes, literally, in some cases, with the skin of their teeth. After everything these incredible kids have had to go through in their lives they have managed to keep going to 4500mtrs and are nearly halfway. When they were hugged by a shaman in an Ecuadorian village. I reached for the gin. When Dale fell from the wheelchair injuring himself and Sean, oh lordy how wonderful is Sean, dropped his crutches to push the wheelchair up the mountain to the campsite I fell weeping to the floor.. I am up to my eyeballs researching equality and disability at the moment ..well what there is of it..(which ain't much boyo) and this lunatic documentary Is making me far too emotional..
Thank God for adverts. Did you know that Skoda make cars out of cake??? Cake goddamnnnn it!! Runs on golden syrup and jam and if you break down..which you, will you crazy hyperglycaemic fool, you can eat it. I love that advert. In a world where everything is sold on malice and greed, such a sweet clever delicious advert is so uplifting that I would buy a Skoda just because they made me smile so much.
As opposed to the car advert I think called the Toyota ‘Malice’, which is aimed at sociopath, sadistic OCD people and literally promotes destroying other peoples property and crushing their souls if in any way they scratch your Malice paintwork. If any potential date came to pick me up in a Toyota Malice I would run and hide in my cake Skoda.
And anyway I discovered the most marvellous thing any car can be equipped with. It was when I was in Toronto time before last..October and really cold and early and I leapt into Beautiful A’s car shivering and whimpering. We drove off and suddenly I became aware of a glorious sensation of warmth creeping up my thighs and bottom and into my lower back. I wasn’t sure what had happened…it didn’t feel wet…and I had not other explanation. A glanced at my strange expression and burst into hysterics.
‘It’s a seat warmer!’ She crowed delighted and appalled at my ignorance. A seat warmer.
My god. The bliss of a hot bottom on a cold day in a fast car on an autumn day. I tell you what. Toronto didn’t ever smell of poo…..
Wednesday, 14 May 2008
Missing Toronto already
I was sitting in seat 36c yesterday, contemplating with some horror the steaming stuff on my tray table called ‘beffchikin’ by the air steward (sorry – in-flight service provider) and musing on Toronto. What was it about the funny little city that I was already missing so much?
Of course I would miss the beautiful A whose generosity, energy and kind spirit allowed for a rambunctious, visually impaired, British misanthrope to camp in her living room for three weeks. It was great to share a place again, to have someone to look out for, chat to, giggle with, lounge about with and go out on the town with. Much as I love my little Cambridge flat and all my own space sometimes the silence echoes off walls and putting on the TV, radio and kettle doesn’t quite obscure the loneliness. (pause for melancholy sigh. Turns into slight snooze as jet lag runs rampant..)
Then there was the traffic. Even though the silly Canadians drive on the wrong side of the road, in and around the city pedestrians are priority. No one drives at you if you step out into a road even if traffic is against you, no one hoots viciously if you don’t get out of the way quickly enough when the lights change and everywhere are signs saying ‘give way to pedestrians or else’. I hardly needed to use my cane at all lolloping around the city and felt safer then I ever have in UK.
And people in Toronto seem nice. Yes, they are often very ernest and sometimes a little humourless but cynicism and sarcasm do not always make for a more thoughtful or artful place. Polite more then friendly, people do however make eye contact, ask if you need help, look out for each other. Even the kid trying to sell me crack on Bloor st East was polite.
A new friend told me that 50% of people in the city are immigrants and there is definitely a great multi-cultural buzz with some lovely ethnic food and hundreds of different communities crowded along the streets. This factor gives Toronto an edge and an energy all of its own.
And importantly people think the British accent is
a)cute
b) posh
and so, you will be pleased to know that with my accent ranging from lovable ‘cor blimey’ cockney to 1940’s BBC posh I milked it for everything I could!
Now I sit, so seriously jet lagged I spent half the morning disoriented and weepy and had to have a snooze in the shampoo aisle in Asda. I have fed the birds (when I could find the bird table through the forest that is my garden Somewhere in there is a lawn mower and potentially even a lawn) have vaguely unpacked and am working through my post. Dennis the Squirrel just ran past the window after roughing up some wood doves I think he mouthed 'where the f**k have you been, woman' at me before collecting his 10% off the bird table, Ahhh then, back to normality.
Of course I would miss the beautiful A whose generosity, energy and kind spirit allowed for a rambunctious, visually impaired, British misanthrope to camp in her living room for three weeks. It was great to share a place again, to have someone to look out for, chat to, giggle with, lounge about with and go out on the town with. Much as I love my little Cambridge flat and all my own space sometimes the silence echoes off walls and putting on the TV, radio and kettle doesn’t quite obscure the loneliness. (pause for melancholy sigh. Turns into slight snooze as jet lag runs rampant..)
Then there was the traffic. Even though the silly Canadians drive on the wrong side of the road, in and around the city pedestrians are priority. No one drives at you if you step out into a road even if traffic is against you, no one hoots viciously if you don’t get out of the way quickly enough when the lights change and everywhere are signs saying ‘give way to pedestrians or else’. I hardly needed to use my cane at all lolloping around the city and felt safer then I ever have in UK.
And people in Toronto seem nice. Yes, they are often very ernest and sometimes a little humourless but cynicism and sarcasm do not always make for a more thoughtful or artful place. Polite more then friendly, people do however make eye contact, ask if you need help, look out for each other. Even the kid trying to sell me crack on Bloor st East was polite.
A new friend told me that 50% of people in the city are immigrants and there is definitely a great multi-cultural buzz with some lovely ethnic food and hundreds of different communities crowded along the streets. This factor gives Toronto an edge and an energy all of its own.
And importantly people think the British accent is
a)cute
b) posh
and so, you will be pleased to know that with my accent ranging from lovable ‘cor blimey’ cockney to 1940’s BBC posh I milked it for everything I could!
Now I sit, so seriously jet lagged I spent half the morning disoriented and weepy and had to have a snooze in the shampoo aisle in Asda. I have fed the birds (when I could find the bird table through the forest that is my garden Somewhere in there is a lawn mower and potentially even a lawn) have vaguely unpacked and am working through my post. Dennis the Squirrel just ran past the window after roughing up some wood doves I think he mouthed 'where the f**k have you been, woman' at me before collecting his 10% off the bird table, Ahhh then, back to normality.
Friday, 9 May 2008
Oh Superman!
Boris, Burma and a volcano in Chile. Hmmm…it has been mentioned that Boris has something that does look surprisingly like three small sixes tattooed on his bottom and a tendency to catch fire near churches. Could it really be just a coincidence?
I went to Niagara Falls with the beautiful A, who picked me up from Buffalo and took me sight seeing down (I kid you not) Factory Outlet Avenue. Classy eh?
So Niagara? It was quite depressing actually. Huge, breathtaking natural wonders dwarfed and diminished by the cheesy glittering tower blocks of hotels, fairground rides and fast food outlets leering down from either side.
I, for some bizarre reason, thought one would be approaching down a track through a wooded park not through a parking lot with a large ‘Candy Shack’ obscuring the view. Ho hum.
I did get a little frisson thinking that Christopher Reeves might have walked this very car park though during the filming of the marvellous 80’s epic, ‘Superman 2’. I was the right age for the baffling car crash of teenage idolatry when that film came out and was absolutely besotted with him. It was all a bit confusing what with him being an actor but, yet, being Superman. All through my early teenage years I would glance hopefully at the sky..just in case…you know.
I wonder if that has any bearing on my present inability to find a lover…the fact I keep looking skyward for dates. Eventually I might fall in love with a misplaced parachutist. Possibly a very short lived relationship…..
I went to Niagara Falls with the beautiful A, who picked me up from Buffalo and took me sight seeing down (I kid you not) Factory Outlet Avenue. Classy eh?
So Niagara? It was quite depressing actually. Huge, breathtaking natural wonders dwarfed and diminished by the cheesy glittering tower blocks of hotels, fairground rides and fast food outlets leering down from either side.
I, for some bizarre reason, thought one would be approaching down a track through a wooded park not through a parking lot with a large ‘Candy Shack’ obscuring the view. Ho hum.
I did get a little frisson thinking that Christopher Reeves might have walked this very car park though during the filming of the marvellous 80’s epic, ‘Superman 2’. I was the right age for the baffling car crash of teenage idolatry when that film came out and was absolutely besotted with him. It was all a bit confusing what with him being an actor but, yet, being Superman. All through my early teenage years I would glance hopefully at the sky..just in case…you know.
I wonder if that has any bearing on my present inability to find a lover…the fact I keep looking skyward for dates. Eventually I might fall in love with a misplaced parachutist. Possibly a very short lived relationship…..
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
Wordless Wednesday
sometimes it is dark and there is light in the centre....
sometimes the light is blinding....sometimes...well its a bit of a mess really..
It can make me feel like this....! 
.........it trys to take my identity but I will always fight...!!!
Photos: (c) Tanvir Bush 2007
Monday, 5 May 2008
Nappy martinis extra dry
There was a faint pong of dirty nappies and gin in the airport lounge where I waited for my flight back from New York. I would have moved but my hangover was too great and the slightest movement makes me more nauseous.
I had taken the bus from Toronto to Buffalo last Thursday. At the US border I had been shown, with excessive use of the word ‘ma’am’, to a holding pen full of other dodgy foreigners and left to watch customs men and women politely and yet offensively (how do they do it) maul people for two hours.
New York and I was immediately ensconced in the organised chaos of my cousin S’s, apartment. You may remember them from the Halloween posts last year when I visited just after Teelo had been killed and spent four days holding the new baby and drinking martinis. The new baby is now a six month Zen Roshi master with long eyelashes and large slate grey eyes. B, the three year old, is growing quickly and slightly less fazed by his cousin with ‘the broken eyes’. He loves his little sister and is mostly lovely to her but apparently has a tendency to chuck her in the nappy bin when he needs a little more attention.
On Friday, afte a quick visit to a freind at Tibet House I found my cuz at work. Her parents arrived at midday and we ate and drank merrily juggling babies, bath times, and more martinis. S’s mum has just received the Lindburgh award as S’s dad did back in 1985 which is the first time it has been awarded twice to the same family. Considering the size of the combined brainpower you would be amazed at the level of humour. Low and goon-like which is exactly right both for the three year old and me.
On Saturday I arrived feeling like death warmed up and was mean and grumpy even after spending time with the Zen master. This was hardly fair considering I was not the one who had been up at 4:30am breastfeeding but I growled and griped anyway. Fed up with my wimpyness my dear cuz suggested a drink. I truly believed that there was no possible way I cold get another Bombay Sapphire martini extra dry into my bloodstream…..apparently I was wrong. (My cousin is truly artful in these matters.)
And then it was Sunday and there I was in the smelly airport lounge. At last the flight was called and we moved into line and began to shuffle on. 'Thank goodness!,' I thought…and then ‘hang on’.. the smell was still all around and I was suddenly horribly aware that the smell of nappies and gin was wafting coquettishly ….from me.
I had taken the bus from Toronto to Buffalo last Thursday. At the US border I had been shown, with excessive use of the word ‘ma’am’, to a holding pen full of other dodgy foreigners and left to watch customs men and women politely and yet offensively (how do they do it) maul people for two hours.
New York and I was immediately ensconced in the organised chaos of my cousin S’s, apartment. You may remember them from the Halloween posts last year when I visited just after Teelo had been killed and spent four days holding the new baby and drinking martinis. The new baby is now a six month Zen Roshi master with long eyelashes and large slate grey eyes. B, the three year old, is growing quickly and slightly less fazed by his cousin with ‘the broken eyes’. He loves his little sister and is mostly lovely to her but apparently has a tendency to chuck her in the nappy bin when he needs a little more attention.
On Friday, afte a quick visit to a freind at Tibet House I found my cuz at work. Her parents arrived at midday and we ate and drank merrily juggling babies, bath times, and more martinis. S’s mum has just received the Lindburgh award as S’s dad did back in 1985 which is the first time it has been awarded twice to the same family. Considering the size of the combined brainpower you would be amazed at the level of humour. Low and goon-like which is exactly right both for the three year old and me.
On Saturday I arrived feeling like death warmed up and was mean and grumpy even after spending time with the Zen master. This was hardly fair considering I was not the one who had been up at 4:30am breastfeeding but I growled and griped anyway. Fed up with my wimpyness my dear cuz suggested a drink. I truly believed that there was no possible way I cold get another Bombay Sapphire martini extra dry into my bloodstream…..apparently I was wrong. (My cousin is truly artful in these matters.)
And then it was Sunday and there I was in the smelly airport lounge. At last the flight was called and we moved into line and began to shuffle on. 'Thank goodness!,' I thought…and then ‘hang on’.. the smell was still all around and I was suddenly horribly aware that the smell of nappies and gin was wafting coquettishly ….from me.
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