Live to work, or…?
I don’t tend to blog too regularly about work. (It’s not that I’m ever likely to say anything particularly disparaging but, equally, my career is important to me and I don’t feel it’s worth exposing myself inadvertently to criticism. Besides, I like to convince myself that I have other, more exciting material to write about.) But I have been meaning for some time to blog about work/life balance and about the attitudes of my colleagues and peers, of wider society.
In the last year, my balance has shifted. The last few weeks have brought the issue sharply into focus.
But, ironically, I’m too tired this evening to compose a coherent blog entry on the subject. Instead, here are some things I should have been writing about:
1. My graduation – I had the most wonderful day, made all the more enjoyable by the fact that my mum, step-dad and husband made the journey to Bristol Cathedral to witness it. It brought a sense of achievement that I didn’t feel when I completed my undergraduate degree. Back then, there was the sense that I was going through the motions, doing what most teenagers do, focusing on the social, rather than academic education that university provided. Studying for a masters degree, whilst working full time and maintaining a long-term relationship took enormous effort and real commitment. And I did a far better job of it than I could ever have imagined I would. I even got a prize.
Here’s my mum (looking proud) and me (also looking pretty proud):
2. Finally finishing Cormac McCarthy’s ‘The Road’ – which took such a long time because I struggled to pick it back up each time I put it down, it was such a punishing read. My brother basically bullied me into reading it, urging me to “hold my heart in my hands” whilst I did so. His advice was entirely appropriate. It is bleak and harrowing, breathtaking and heartbreaking. And ultimately, hopeful. (Although now I’m reading some wonderfully witty fiction by the brilliant Zoe Heller to restore the equilibrium.)
To watch the film or not to watch the film?
Oh, my teenage years…
Ally texted me last night with a list that I wrote 10 years ago, at the age of 17, of my top ten favourite songs. There are some “what the bloody hell was I thinking?” numbers in there (you know I’m just saying that, don’t you?), as well as some rediscoveries and some enduring favourites.
I was going to make a spotify playlist to share with you but because I was a somewhat pretentious teenager, partial to a bit of musical snobbery, there are a few obscure B-sides in there so I can’t find them all. So you’ve got some youtube links:
‘Queen of the Troubled Teens’ by Idlewild (I genuinely believed this should be my anthem. I was such a loser.)
‘Tame’ by Pixies (the first Pixies song I ever heard. And so began a lifelong obsession…)
‘Silence’ by Delirium (no link because it was the radio edit that I loved but a VERY SPECIFIC mix, which I can’t remember and subsequently can’t find)
‘Nights in White Satin’ by The Moody Blues (this isn’t even the one I’m ashamed of)
‘Blackpool’ by Delgados (still awesome – but no proper video sadly. Would encourage you to seek it out)
‘You Just Have To Be Who You Are’ by Idlewild (I liked Idlewild, ok? Still do, in fact)
‘Blue Flashing Light’ by Travis (I’d just like to point out that the first two Travis albums were actually very good and perfectly acceptable listening material)
‘Genie in a Bottle’ by Christina Aguilera (what the bloody hell was I thinking?!) (I still have a soft spot for really well written pop music and yes I do happen to love ‘Beat Again’ by JLS)
‘Everlong’ by Foo Fighters (this won’t ever stop being one of my favourite songs)
‘S.O.F.T.’ by Elastica (see above)
Some observations: I was not only a pretentious teenager, but also a noisy one. I’m not sure that I’ve changed a great deal. I’m still noisy but I suppose I’m more inclined towards some quieter moments this days. And my husband has had some influence over my musical taste too, which is only natural.
I am so spending the weekend coming up with my top 10 favourite songs…
Things I want to do
#1 Read books I read as a teenager and didn’t really get, e.g. ‘Waterland’ and ‘The Great Gatsby’ and ‘Brideshead Revisited’.
(Yes, I found the # key on my MacBook. Not where I thought it’d be.)
Wonderful Weekends
Today, my standard Sunday – lazy morning in bed, listening to BH and The Archers omnibus, before rising, reading, husband playing GTA4, drinking freshly filtered coffee, reading the Sunday papers, and the mundane laundry, dishwasher loading, putting out the bins.
Today, made all the better for two wonderful weekends preceding it. Last weekend, spent in Royston at my sister-in-law’s with great company, good food and a spellbinding visit to Ely Cathedral. The building is incredible, particularly its majestic nave and the feat of engineering that forms its centrepiece, the Octagon lantern. We climbed the 165 spiral steps to the roof of the lantern, stared down into the cathedral from its dizzying height and listened to the beautiful, soaring choir practice for evensong.
This weekend bought pleasures of a different kind, but just as great. A lovely couple of days spent with Omar, who writes about it better than I could on his own blog (here). I miss spending time with him. But when he lived nearer, I don’t think I appreciated the things that he writes about.
And yesterday, Chris and I were faced with another, dull day in Worcester and decided to drive to Bristol and spend the rest of the day there instead. We shopped, buying nothing, in Cabot Circus. As shopping centres go, I don’t know if I like it. There are elements that are great, like the domed glass roof, the natural ventilation, the open spaces intended for nothing but sitting and watching the world go by. But I’m not sure that I’d want to shop there regularly, I don’t think it has a great retail offer, if I’m honest. That said, the car park is an awesome example of how it could and should be done (evidence, if you ever need it, that I should get out more).
Anyway, we ate Vietnamese at Tampopo, which is like Wagamama but with slightly more uptight waiting staff (I should clarify that I like how uptight and eager to please they are. The staff in Wagamama are too trendy-verging-on-irritating) and a range of Asian dishes. I can recommend the Pho Xao Bo.
And we saw Up (in 2D, thank you very much) at the Showcase De Lux (nice cinema, absurdly comfortable seats, the fact that there are doormen is awfully pretentious). I didn’t love the film quite as much as this review in the Telegraph did and not nearly as much as I love Wall-E but I did think that the first ten minutes are just wonderful. That an animated film aimed squarely at children can handle loss, grief and regret in a silent montage and move grown adults to tears is astonishing. I’d watch the film again purely for those opening scenes, but also for the witty, creative closing credits.
And the Where the Wild Things Are trailer…oh, so much happiness and brilliance in one, short space of time. I simply can’t wait.
After all that, back to my standard Sunday and the ironing mountain that has been growing whilst I’ve been having such a lovely time.
Nice things
Surprising the intern by decorating his desk with balloons and party poppers for his 21st birthday, even though you’ve only ever passed the time of day with him in the kitchen, just because he’s new and shy and doesn’t really know anyone.
American Office
(This is the first blog from my new MacBook. The plan is, now I have my own laptop and am not sharing my husband’s PC, that this happens more…)
Anyway, Chris and I watched The American Office tonight. It’s on ITV4 now. We’ve seen bits before but not whole episodes.
Some observations:
1. There is not enough background noise. It’s noticeable.
2. Chris kept trying to figure out which American character was which British character.
3. I can’t watch Steve Carrell now without remembering how great he is in Little Miss Sunshine.
4. I need to watch more of it, I think. Didn’t strike me straight away (mainly for the above reasons).
Last chance to see
As a general rule, I am not a fan of wildlife programmes. But I have been thoroughly enjoying Stephen Fry’s retracing of Douglas Adams’s steps in ‘Last Chance to See’. What I enjoy so much is Fry’s apparent lack of suitability for such a task (he hates camping, isn’t very good at getting off boats in one piece and readily admits that he’d prefer the animals to come to him in London – all things I can relate to). And yet he is, without exception, won over by every incredible example of the natural world that he happens to stumble upon. As much as I share in his seeming distaste for exploration, I also share in his awe and delight at the rich diversity of life.
I think all wildlife programmes should be presented by Stephen Fry.
Cheltenham Literature Festival
On Friday, Leigh and I took a well-earned break from the office and spent the day at the Cheltenham Literature Festival. We had a genuinely lovely day. Not necessarily because of the events we paid to attend (although they were all excellent, both entertaining and insightful) but because of the room it gave us to think and to be challenged intellectually. Owen Sheers made me want to rediscover poetry and to seek out his BBC4 programme on iPlayer; the discussion on mad women in literature triggered a desire to discover a few unread classics; and the subject of journalism writing history highlighted global issues I know scarcely enough about to make the kind of judgements I find myself making.
If only I had the time to do all of those things: to read non-fiction, classics, poetry, political diaries; to watch documentaries about subjects that are new to me; to visit places that will stimulate me. I do have that time. I am simply too distracted by day-to-day living but also by the technology in my home, which requires little attention, wastes many hours and allows me to passively absorb information – little of it of any consequence – in bite sized chunks. A case in point: this week I have tried (and failed) to read three different books. This is not the fault of the books. It is my painfully and increasingly short attention span.
I would like our day at the literature festival to change that.
Some other observations from Friday:
1. I was having breakfast (well, coffee) in Starbucks. They’ve started asking for your first name when you order and then proceed to shout, “tall Americano with room for milk for Jenn!” I don’t like it.
2. Leigh phoned whilst I was in Starbucks to say she was lost (she really, really was). I used Google Latitude to find her and it worked a treat.
3. I was impressed by the sheer number of children at the festival and completely bowled over by their delight and enthusiasm as they had books signed by authors such as Anthony Horowitz and Julia Donaldson. I was bowled over in a very different sense by the number of adults queuing to meet Alan Titchmarsh.
4. There was a lovely European market on the Promenade and it was there that I discovered that sweet ginger is delicious when eaten together with sundried tomatoes.
Banksy
On a lighter note, I’ve still not blogged about Banksy. Which is just plain lazy because Omar did it ages ago.
In general, I enjoyed the exhibition, which is a blessing considering I stood in this queue with that black cloud overhead for almost two hours to see it.
Like Omar, I enjoyed the social commentary pieces downstairs the most. Although, I do tend to find that Banksy irritates me by being a little lazy sometimes. Admittedly, the Houses of Parliament, full of apes, was technically more than I could ever achieve but it just feels like sloppy, sixth-form satire. There’s nothing big nor clever about saying that MPs are a bunch of monkeys.
That said, the installation exchanging a nest of fledgling birds for tweeting CCTV cameras made me smile and I enjoyed these exhibits that displayed a sense of humour alongside the scathing social commentary the most.
The exhibition forces you to explore the whole of the museum – a fantastic marketing ploy – and I really like the audacity of the idea that a traditional civic museum can be infiltrated by a graffiti artist. But, in practice, the Banksy exhibition is no more than a stunt (he didn’t break in to the place, the museum is raking in the visitors) and that awareness nagged at me as I browsed the display cabinets for evidence of Banksy’s interference.
But I really enjoyed the fact that, on a couple of occasions, Omar and I couldn’t tell whether or not an exhibit had been put there by Banksy or if it was a genuine exhibit.
Definitely worth a visit – it’s unlikely to come around again any time soon and certainly not as successfully. It’s just not as ground breaking as it thinks it is… But I don’t know that there’s anything wrong with that.
Vocation Theory
It’s nice to think of all the exciting stuff my school friends do for a living these days. In our circle of friends, we have a counsellor, a couple of journalists, a landscape architect, a banker, an accountant, a school secretary, and a couple of musicians. I like the variety of it. And the fact that I can remember little characteristics about them all as teenagers that mean that their current career is no real surprise.
And, of course, there’s me. You understand what all the others do, right? But not what I do. Ho hum.
Here’s a list of other things I’d quite like to do, if I ever got the chance:
1. Be a wedding florist (and make people happy)
2. Teach adult literacy (and make the world a better place)
3. Work in a bookshop (and make myself happy)
4. Do a PhD and be a lecturer (see above).
Also, I did a careers search last night (mainly because I haven’t done one since school and wanted to test my ‘Vocation Theory’ outlined above). When I put in that I’m not motivated by money, it just gave me crap jobs that would be nice and everything but that I couldn’t afford to do without some serious lifestyle changes. So I put in that I am motivated by money and it gave me unbearably ruthless jobs that wouldn’t fit my moral code AT ALL.
Rock and Hard Place.
