Contrary to newspaper accounts and Radio 4 news bulletins I am, in fact, Alive.
A chat with my erstwhile crimewriterist and bearded hero informed me that people actually read this blog so I thought "what the hell" and decided to post. I had previously considered re-posting on here but imagined it would be very much like singing in the shower, fun and acoustically rewarding but, at the end of the day, a solo activity- unappreciated by the general populace.
So!, I hear you cry, what have you been doing?! (said in the tone of my mother opening the front door to find me drunk with frozen margarita on my head and a parking ticket on my forehead)
I had a brief and none too fulfilling period of unemployment which left me with tattered nerves and an equally tattered mother, who had to put up with me lolling around the house in my dressing gown crying and generally losing what little of the plot remained. Following this I had a happy couple of months as a care worker for the elderly and merrily tootled about making tea and toast and wiping people. Happy days.
Now I'm back in Dundee on a masters course which is challenging, scary and not a little boring.
Some honest to goodness things that happened while I've been away:
I got facebook chat dumped by someone I wasn't going out with (As I pointed out to Russ, People are bypassing the relationship stage with me and going straight to the breakup)
I wiped poo on my nose and couldn't rid myself of the smell without sticking wetwipes up my nose
I have amassed a huge collection of urban pictures of no interest to anyone save me, and I've seen them already
So I applied for a job teaching in the czech republic and actually got it. Much chuffedness on my part. I was going to a place called Liberec. It looked stunning. I got all packed up and said my cheeri byes. I got my snake and tarantula rehomed. Took my library books back. Threw out unwanted guff lying in my room. Booked my flight. With some trepidation I boarded the 7am flight Edinburgh to Prague. A delightful girl called Marta met me at the airport- she even had my name on a wee sheet of paper. Braw. Tram into Prague and arrangements to meet with my boss on the monday morning to discuss my travel arrangements and subsequent departure to Liberec. Which gave me two days in Prague. It was great. Beautiful. I loved the whole place. I even discovered that my czech wasn't as bad as I thought. Dobre! A few hours spent wandering round Prague- seriously people you could do worse. The Pivo is wonderful. I cannot recommend it more. I spent a great evening in a welded together pub (seriously every part of it was welded together in a great industrial hades type thang) discussing various things with a delightful blond czech guy who was equally enthusiastic about moving to the UK. I was having a great time. So in to work on monday morning, a short metro hop and 10 minutes on the tram. Bit of an interview, which went well. Then the bombshell "We don't actually have a job for you anymore" Gutted. They hadn't been able to fill the school and couldn't employ me. They did offer me an alternative post- not enough hours to keep me and I'd have to stay in Prague. The London of Czech Republic. In cost and cleanliness. I had to come home. Several things have resulted from this jaunt. The most important being-I'm a hell of a lot more confident about me and my abilities. When I got back I sent of a ton of CV's to environmental consultancies- Something I've never had the courage to do before. I also got word that I'm being considered for a leonardo project placement abroad. Life is not so bad. taking the chance to move abroad: (owe my mum) £400 Proving you can do something you didn't think you could- priceless
It won. But it was brilliant fun, if only I had 2 jet engines instead of these wee legs I'd totally have beaten them. I blame the Bike. Rematch! For anyone I've not spoken to I've turned into a Bicycle fiend. I love it. I never used to, Biking for me was relegated to the realm of the joggers and other arses. But I have joined the arse ranks and can be seen pedalling for my life along side Glasgow Airport runway (on the cycle track not the actual runway) And my bike is beautiful. Its an Aluminium Hardtail, a special size to allow for my hight and after 6 years of neglect in the Garage it is now a gleaming thing of beauty, oiled and cared for. It's been dubbed (ironically) "La Poderosa III" after Che Guevara's motorcycle which took him around South America. While my Ponderosa might not manage the South American Continent it will hopefully manage the National Cycle Route 7 soon. My bike has also let me discover a WD40 craze within me and I can also be seen spraying WD40 liberally around while proclaiming it "miracle elixar" I'm this close to spraying it on myself to see if it helps my arthritic joints. My tin of WD is hidden at the moment- my mum is sick of hefting previously creaky doors only to discover they move at lightening speed and I've been threatened with a total WD ban should it happen again. No Fun. Anyway I'm off out on my bike.
I've been watching this excellent film recently. It's a blinder, I've also got the book which is also breathtaking. Its fantastic to read Ernesto Guevara before he became 'Che' and became the revolutionary leader. When he was still Ernesto- medical student and love lorn. I love that he didn't know what he was to become. It gives me hope. Not that I think that underneath this pallid exterior there will be a great revolutionary leader or something but just that maybe something good is just around the corner. Something I can't quite see yet but that maybe some of these shitty experiences I keep having are preparing me for something. For those of you who know me you wont need told but I have been Many many years in education and I've covered a lot of ground academically. I've also got the '1 year unemployed' medal from the job centre. I'm not useless but I'm increasingly starting to feel it. My brain is slowing and I fear that I'm starting to listen to people with my mouth open. People ask me why I don't just pick up 'a wee job in a bar' and I'm too ashamed to admit that I've applied and heard nothing back. I have £60 a week to live on and I live at home with my mum. Its not really a life, more an existance. It sucks. and all I can do is hope that something, anything, will turn up and help me justify this semi transparent existance.