I am a year older

...which is pretty much bleurgh. Can I stay 30 for ever? Or even better 22? Last weekend I went to LFA2011 again and this week I had training at work (which was a lot of condescending rubbish) and last Thursday my mother came for a visit. So now I am enjoying a lot of arguing going on between my mother and my grandmother. Fun, fun, fun. Yesterday was my birthday! For my birthday I went shopping down-town with my mother where I made her get me the loveliest waterproof mac from Hobbs.

It's gorgeous, isn't it? Afterwards I had booked a table at Rosso Pomondorro (an italian restaurant) in Covent Garden. It was a nice restaurant, with good food and they put up with me changing the number of people the reservation was for multiple times. But on the other hand, the service wasn't the best. Maybe because it was Saturday and they were too busy and harassed? In any case, not the best service. I had a small gathering of eight in the end: my sister and her boyfriend (who got me a lovely book from Dover books with Kay Nielsen's fairytale illustrations and some adorable postcards with ink drawings of anthropomorphised animals), Natasha and Theo (who got me a cute ethnic cushion) and my friend Amin from Paris - who had come over to present a paper at a conference in Cambridge - who brought two friends of his with him. We had fun and it was a laugh. Not a bad birthday gathering. My only wibble was that I was sort of hoping to share a birthday with Natasha's any minute to be born baby boy. But it was not be. He's still not ready to come out.

Last weekend

Remember how I keep on telling you what a bad blogger I am? Here's some more proof. A whole week later I have decided to tell you about what I got up to last weekend. Maybe next week I will tell you about this weekend. So the London Festival of Architecture is on. It lasts about three weeks. I went to see some things the weekend before, and I went to see some more things last weekend, (and this weekend too). Exhibitions, actions and events in parks and squares, architectural practices letting you visit and showing you around. Last Saturday night I went to an indie concert in a little pub in Farrington. You know the sort of concert where it's you and the bands's closest friends. We went because the headliners, the Occasional Flicker's, are a greek indie band - based in Edinburgh - are kind of known in the greek indie circuit. Which isn't hard to do. There are so few bands, that we know them all. They aren't a bad little band, with some nice tunes. The singer has the strongest greek accent though!

Opening acts were John Collins that tried his best to make interesting and engaging banter, but wasn't really my thing, and another scottish band, Spaghetti Anywhere. No, unfortunately, there were no spaghetti western references in their music. I was very disappointed. They were a typical miserable scottish indie band. (There is only one Belle and Sebastian!) The singer had an interesting voice, if they just wrote some more interesting melodies...

Hear that accent? Because I can never resist a scottish accent (any scots on my flist?), I drank a pint of cider, screwed up my courage and chatted up the singer a bit after the gig. He was a very nice guy, we had the typical awkward conversation you have with a fellow indie person... I spent the night with my sister and her boyfriend in Wimbledon. I slept in their south-african room-mates empty bed - he was on holiday. And next day I went to an architectural walk organised by Atkins - a very big architectural and engineering company. The walk was led by one of their senior architects and was very enjoyable. One of the best things I've been on in this festival. That and the Developing City exhibition in the Walbrook Building (just opposite Cannon Street Station). If you live in London, are interested in the history of the City and like big well made models of buildings, you should check the exhibition out! It's free and open until the 9th of September, except Mondays.

Day in London

Went down to central London today. First stop, John Lewis where I browsed furniture fabrics and tassels to see about making a new throw for my grandmother's dinning room table - since I destroyed the old one and all. Second stop, a walk around Soho with a friend and a visit to the Photography Gallery that's there. After we parted ways, I meandered around a bit more, had some cheap chinese and finally found the ice-cream shop in Soho I had been looking for for ages. It's in Old Compton Street, by the way, and the ice-cream is delicious. It also possibly has the cheapest italian espresso in Soho at £1.70. I ended up in art supply shop to get some coloured inks - I was out of emerald green -, a watercolour block and, at the spur of the moment, a fine sable brush. While waiting to be served, I spied the craziest thing out the window: Unfortunately my phone takes crap videos. When will I be able to afford an iphone? It's the first thing I'll buy once I get a proper job. By the way, that is Charing Cross Road they are all riding down in the buff. It was a huge, seemingly never-ending, procession. Very impressive really.

V&A

A couple of weeks ago I went to the Victoria and Albert Museum with my camera, dragging a poor friend with me. (Ha! Lets see if he ever agrees to an outing with me again!) It was a fun visit. The V&A is one of my favourites. It's just more proof of what a bad blogger I am, that I am only now getting round to sharing my photos with you.

Afterwards I met up with my sister and her boyfriend for a walk up Primrose Hill. I know I don't usually share photos of myself, but I thought I'd make an exception.

It's me on the colourful bridge on the way to Primrose Hill, what did you think I'd post?

What I've been up to over the weekend

I have been busy being depressed and doing stuff. Let me tell you about my weekend. Saturday: Saturday was a friend's birthday, so a whole bunch of us met up in Covent Garden for lunch, and we had a lovely time. As usual I arrived a little late (I got detained in John Lewis trying to find a throw for my grandmother's dinning table to replace the one I destroyed the night before. I spilled brown ink all over it while making Darry a card. I am very last minute, I know). We sat at Navajo Joe's where we had spicy vaguely mexican food and cocktails (I had two delicious margarita's!). Afterwards we went to the Icecreamists for some delicious ice creams, yum. Despite having reserved a table for eleven, they had exiled us into a small dark corner upstairs. Armed with my two ingested margarita's I went to complain, and ended up talking to the manager. You know you're obsessed with Glee when a random shop manager reminds you of Glee's choreographer and that makes you go easy on him. I was distracted, ok! (What's more worrying about my level of obsession is that I know what Zach Woodlee looks like, let alone who he is.) Hmm. Okay, now that I'm looking again, Zach is way cuter than the manager was... Anyway! Even though I went easy on him, and though I was rather nice and reasonable too, I must have scared him (or else he was just taken with my low cut dress) because he apologised profusely, offered me a top up on my ice cream and then offered us all a lovely alcoholic ice cream cocktail on the house. Yum, yum. It was delicious! With green apple sorbet and lots of vodka. I left decidedly tipsy! Afterwards, those who still had energy, went to one of the group's beautiful new flat (wooden floors, guys! Large windows! Beautiful rooms! A cute french flatmate! And, who knows, maybe the other flatmate is even cuter!) where we ate sparkly birthday cake, giggled and talked and most emphatically didn't watch the Eurovision song contest. I got home just in time to see Sweden win, with rather a boring song. Sunday: Sunday I woke up with a fuzzy head from the heavy weather and the alcohol, but no rest for the wicked! I went all the way to Excel to meet up with a friend, my sister and her boyfriend to go to the Comic Expo. I felt decidedly underdressed in "civilian" clothes seeing as almost everyone was in costume. The expo was interesting. All those colourful cartoonish people! And the bright stalls. And so much stuff. My favourites of course were the artists' tables. Mangas aren't really my style, but I did see some comic styles that I did rather like. My favourite artist was Girl In The Rain As usual I couldn't resist the lure of buying stuff and got myself some more pretty chopsticks for my hair (I will eventually acquire the whole rainbow!) and some more badges (god knows where I will find to put them, I have too many already!). At half past three-ish I abandoned my poor friend to the mercy of her cosplaying friends and left with my sister and her boyfriend to enjoy the last of the sun. We met up with some friends in a very very crowded Primrose Hill to laze in the grass and drink cider (because my head wasn't fuzzy enough!) Afterwards we found the only pub with an empty table and ate the world's thinest pizza. And that was my weekend. I have more stuff to share, but later.

Update

I've been surprisingly busy these last days, and not so surprisingly stressed and depressed. Even now that I am typing, I would much rather be curled up under my duvet dozing or watching old Doctor Who episodes or reading fanfiction. But I have decided I should be sociable, so I am siting with my grandmother watching a documentary about meercats and updating my journal so you don't all start worrying something happened to me. And I have news. 1 On the Paris job front, I got accepted into the second round of interviews! I had it earlier today. I think it went very well, but on the other hand they are interviewing at least a dozen people so I think the competition is very stiff. Which doesn't bode well. I am good at talking and selling myself and coming across as capable and likeable. But I am not good at ruthlessly pushing myself forward and brazenly telling people that I am the best. Anyway. I have a week or maybe a bit longer to wait for them to finish up all the interviews and decide. I hope there won't be third interview! 2 As for my present job in retail, things are once more up in the air. We have yet another head manager. The last one started out all energetic and optimistic and in about two months he gave up and asked to be transferred to another store. And I still never found out what happened to our first head manager. He was pretty useless anyway. Managers! They all seem to be rather soft if you ask me. The new manager has started of very determined and serious. He really wants to shake things up. He's going to radically change the layout of the store and switch around everyone's jobs and timetables. Hm. He better not make me a salesperson! If he does, he'll be a complete idiot, and that doesn't bode well for the store. Lets see how long he lasts. 3 My sister and her boyfriend found a house! It's house-share with three other people in a cute house with a garden in Wimbledon. The house is nice. The room is very nice, and has its own bathroom. And Wimbledon is rather a nice place too. I am very happy for them. Now all my sister needs is to find a job. Lets hope things work out for us, because things are looking really really bad for Greece. There are days when I feel more afraid for my friends and family back in Greece than I do for my homeless semi-employed self.

Possible new beginnings

So I am still very very stressed. Actually I have made myself so stressed that I feel like I might fall into hysterical panic or extreme depression if I don't manage to keep a handle on myself. Yes, life is totally getting the better of me at the moment. It's been a year of being constantly rejected and there is only so much a person can take. Many you must have gone (or are going) through something similar and I'm sure you understand how there is a breaking point, no matter how strong willed and positive you try to be, and I'm rapidly reaching mine. On friday, as I mentioned, I had a skype interview for a rather interesting job in Paris. Something very different from what I've been doing the last years, and far closer to my university experiences. I was surprised that I was even considered since I don't really have the relevant experience and I might even be slightly under-qualified. (Especially after being turned down for so many jobs in London that I was actually over-qualified for.) And returning to Paris! It is something I had told myself I would never do, since despite loving the actual city to bits, I fell into the deepest depression I've ever been in while living there last time. But never say never. I can't help but feel that if I want to ever get anywhere I have to leave London, since its clear that the british will never give me a chance. I had been thinking of Amsterdam or Copenhagen, or even Oslo. But why not Paris? I know the language and I know how it works. That is why I am so afraid I will not get the job. My interview didn't go bad, but it didn't go great either. And he told me that he had a lot more interviews to do, so I won't learn for another week at least what their verdict is. I can't help but feel that being one of the first people they interviewed is a bad thing and will lessen my chances even more. And I can't help but be very disappointed with myself for being so stressed that I froze on certain questions and didn't make the best impression I could. Who am I kidding, I didn't get the job. And I was so looking forward to finally managing to regain a semblance of a life... And so we come to the second song I am considering as a soundtrack for my life at the moment (after the last post's song):

In which I tell you far more than you wanted to know about my job

I'm very nervous and edgy and anxious. I have a job interview tomorrow for a job that could prove a great chance. I'll tell you after the interview more details. I do realise I have promised photos from Hydra, but things have got on top of me and I left the job of arranging and fixing them up in the middle to be undertaken when I feel more relaxed. I even wanted to get a start at my own 100 things, but I just can't seem to find the energy and time. God, I'm the world's worst blogger! You see, my sister has returned from Argentina (where she went for two months with her boyfriend, supposedly to volunteer, but actually as an extended holiday). And now she's staying with me at our grandmother's and it's really cramped and difficult and stressful. She's trying hard with her boyfriend to find a flat, but with their budget, it's not easy in London. The whole business is stressing me too, because it's a constant reminder of what a total mess my life is at the moment. I am in a total limbo, without enough money and no way of making any sort of plans for the next month, let alone the future. Sometimes I think the only thing stopping me from going crazy is my crappy job. I was supposed to tell you about the crappy job I'm doing and the crazy interview I had to go through, but life got in the way and I never got round to it. Anyway, I'm working part time in retail. I wanted a simple easy no stress no responsibilities job to earn some money while searching for real work. But things never quite work out as you think they will. I applied for the position of sales assistant in Currys (a UK electrical appliance and electronic store). I didn't get the job. It seems like selling stuff is not easy in the UK, because I also got turned down by Boots, River Island, Next, John Lewis and a whole bunch of other shops. And all for part time temp sales jobs. They certainly are demanding! Anyway, I got a call out of the blue for an interview with Currys. So I dressed up as if I was going for an office job and went. It turned out they had decided to open a temporary clearance store over the Christmas holidays and needed a lot of people in a hurry. After the wackiest interview they ended up hiring almost everyone. They needed about 30 or so people at a short notice and minimum wage, which means they hired a lot of first timers and unexperienced youngsters. Which was great of them, because no one is hiring the unexperienced young any more. In the beginning we worked about a fortnight of 10 to 14 hour shifts with no days off, doing anything and everything to fix the shop up. At the same time we had managers and experienced people from other shops giving us some sort of minimal training all the while scoping out who would be best for which job. They needed mainly salespeople, but also warehouse people, merchandisers, people for the tills and some admins. I kind of stood out I guess because I was one of the oldest women they hired and I let it slip in the interview that am actually an architect (I peeked at the interviewer's notes and she had written it in capitals across the paper.) At one point one of the managers asked me what I would rather do, and I answered honestly that I like/am good at arranging and organising. I was hoping they would make me a merchandiser rather than a salesperson. They ended up making me a Product Inventory Counter. As in the person who counts the merchandise to find out what is missing (and what is extra) and then investigates it to find out why. It is obviously harder and more frustrating than it sounds, because the shop is rather big and we have loads of stock and everything is in such a mess you wouldn't believe. So yeah, so much for easy low stress job... I'm only working 20 hours a week, which means that to get what I have to done each week I am practically the only one in the whole shop who works non-stop with hardly any breaks. It's pretty exhausting. But on the other hand it looks better on my cv that a sales assistant position would. Obviously the job they gave me is far too hard and has far too high a level of responsibility for someone who has never done this sort of thing before and is only earning minimum wage (I am feeling decidedly fucked over by that aspect of the job.) Everyone who had ever visited from another store to help from time to time couldn't believe they had me all by myself. From the beginning I was told I would be an assistant PI counter and soon they would send round someone highly experienced to work with me. Only the weeks dragged on and this experienced person never showed up. I kept on asking and they kept on putting off the dates of his long expected arrival. I can only guess that they realised that this was only going to be a temporary store and I was doing a good enough job on my own and the experienced guy would cost too much. We ended up making record sales over the holidays so they put the closing date off till february. Then they put the date off till May. Now it's been put off again till July. In any case it might end up a permanent store. In which case they have to try and make it work like a proper shop. And a good first thing to do is do something about the ridiculous amount of stock loss we have - a very large amount of which is in-store theft. As the merchandise counter I know exactly how much stuff has been going missing from behind locked doors and locked cabinets, and I have pointed it out numerous times to the managers and the loss prevention officers that visit us. I also have repeatedly told co-workers who have tried to talk to me about it, that I don't care if they know who's stealing and how, I do not want to know. Since it's my job to find out what has gone missing, if I was to find out who had taken it, I could hardly keep quiet about it. So the less I know the better. To try and combat the whole messy business of making us work more smoothly, they have gotten rid of the old (rather useless) manager and sent a new guy, with good intentions and more organised, but also with a less flexible style. He has already fired a couple of people for no good reason (just because they asked for fixed hours and days rather than an ever changing schedule). They also finally send me another PI counter. Not the super experienced guy I was promised, but a guy my own age with a little bit of experience. He's a good guy and knows what he's doing, only he had a bit of heart attack when he saw what our shop is like (he used to work in a nice neat organised high street shop). Just yesterday when he was asked to count ipods (we had hundreds of them, half of which where mixed up and mislabeled as per usual), he had a total meltdown and I had to call the manager to talk to him and calm him down. Anyway, crappy as the job is, the good thing is that it gets me out the house and I get to talk to people (and I have stopped eating into my savings). I'm not too keen on the salespeople (mostly bitchy or dim) but I really do like the warehouse guys (I spend most of my down time hiding in the warehouse with them) and the some of the merchandisers and admins are cool too. All in all it's nice to work in a place with a lot of people. And it seems like I'm one of those people who gets on better with men than women. Who would have known? Most of my friends have always been women and gay men... It's also proving an interesting social experience. I had never done a minimum wage job before or hung out with working class people. Actually half my university friends always accused me of being too high-brow and having too intellectual interests. I'm talking to people I would never have met otherwise and that is quite interesting. I keep on thinking that the song that best describes this period of my life, could be nothing else but Pulp's britpop anthem from back when I was in my late teens: (tl;dr ?):

Chinese New Year

I know I promised photos of Hydra. I'm working on it. But a long long time ago I promised photos from when I went down town to see Chinese New Year celebrated in central London. So here's a little slideshow, far too late. I'm a horrid blogger, I know!

Weekend Adventures

As you might, or might not, have noticed, I skipped my art post yesterday. That's because I have had a tiring overwhelming weekend and I needed a break!

My uncle and aunt descended on us from Manchester Friday evening and stayed till Sunday. I love them dearly, and they are possibly the most fun of my living relatives, but they are also very very loud, talkative and tiring. I couldn't take them in large doses!

Friday evening, after they turned us upside down and got my grandmother all flustered, we went out. My crazy uncle decided he wanted to see Fulham Football stadium, just because. He couldn't remember where it was, and his car was knew and he had learned how to properly use his sat-nav yet. You can imagine how it went... We did eventually find it. So we saw it. Closed. At night. In the dark. *sigh* Then we went to eat. At a spur of the moment impulse, we went for persian, which I quite liked - I had eaten persian before - but my grandmother and aunt complained no end about because it wasn't spicy enough for them. (Read: it wasn't indian.)

Saturday after eating a large breakfast and getting a late start, we roamed around the north of Greater London aimlessly. We passed by Wade, St Margaret's, Much Hadham, Harlow and various other places. We tried getting out for a walk by the canal in St Margaret's, but my grandmother complained of the cold and made us give up. We tried to go to the Henry Moore Foundation Sculpture Garden, but obviously found in closed because it was winter. Then we went shopping, because my grandmother insisted we take her to Boots and the supermarket.

In the evening we booked a table at a pub where we met my other aunt (my uncle's - and my mother's - sister) and my cousin's eldest daughter for dinner. My grandmother downed a whiskey mac in one large gulp before dinner, got drunk and proceeded to be very loud, difficult and embarrassing the whole night. She made them take her prawn cocktail back because it was on a plate and not a glass. (I begged the waitress to just plop what was on the plate in a random glass and bring it back for us.) She insisted her roast dinner was awful - and loudly proclaimed it repeatedly to the whole pub - and refused to eat it.

Possibly the most cringeworthy moment, though, was when my uncle, aunt and grandmother started talking loudly about all the mischief the first two got up to as children and teenagers. My uncle and aunt insisted my mother was the goody-two-shoes of the family (which I can totally believe), but my grandmother said she was just as much trouble. And as proof, she said that my mother had once brought home a black boyfriend! And that my grandfather got so angry he drove the boy home! You should have seen the rest of us cringe and look around the pub furtively... On the other hand, I am feeling rather proud of my mother. It was the late sixties, after all, and she lived in the conservative middle-class suburbs.

Sunday we left my grandmother home to get some peace and quiet and went for a long walk through the mud and the countryside by Hilly Fields and Forty Hill. It was a lovely walk, I took plenty of photos, but never got round to downloading them from my camera.

Once we got home, my grandmother was all rejuvenated and was ready to rearrange the dinning room - the room I'm sleeping in -, so I spent all evening going through tons of stuff she has accumulated trying to get rid of rubbish and moving furniture. The room is more spacious now, but we still have some stuff to give away or get rid of. On the other hand, I still don't have anywhere to put my stuff, and it still is in boxes on the floor.

Oof! What a boring long ramble!

Last days of summer

I'm feeling hopelessly lazy lately, hence the lack of updates.

Also, like the sheep I am, I made myself a twitter account. Twitter is proving rather addictive. Hmf, I get addicted far too easily.

My news?

On Thursday I met in London! Katelin is just as adorable in RL! We had lots of fun talking in real time (yay for meeting people face to face!) and discussing fandom loudly in public. We meandered around Regent's park and then walked along the Embankment. Two of my favourite places in London! It was a gorgeous day, which we ended with a nice thin crust pizza (hawaian, because I was feeling adventurous) and a final stroll to Saint Paul's in the moonlight.

I hope you had lots of fun in London, ! *squishes you close and wishes you didn't have to leave!*

Otherwise I have been visiting parks with Dimitris to take advantage of this last burst of good weather. Enfield is just full of parks! Today we went to Hilly Fields, where we lazed in the sun, had a pick nick and ogled all the hyper young 'uns surrounding us. Then we moved our lazy arses and went for a walk, discovering a huge cemetery which we promptly got lost in.

Look at me becoming all tech savvy and managing to embed a slideshow!

Long post of weekend escapades!

You know how some people claim to not remember what they get up to when drunk? Well, I always remember every single excruciatingly embarrassing minute of it. What's even worse, is that when I'm drunk I realise it, and I know I'll be horribly embarrassed next morning, and I realise I'm talking rubbish to strangers and acting ridiculous, yet I still do it. Hmf. Must be something wrong with me. I'm pretty sure it's my english genes that are to blame.

But I am coming before myself here. I had a busy weekend and much happened before I ended up clutching the toilet bowl.

Short story: I walked until I dropped around Hackney and Finsbury on saturday. Then I went to a party in Kingsland, where I drunk too much and crashed. I spent sunday mooching around the Embankment nursing a hangover and had tea on the seventh floor of the Tate Modern.

Long story with images shamelessly stolen from web:
This weekend was Open House London. For the weekend they open up hundreds of buildings to the public and have the architects do guided tours of them. Isn't it a brilliant idea?

I organised myself and made a program of what I wanted to see. Being terminally lazy, I started out a little too late and decided to start from Hackney. I went to a couple of buildings in Dalston Kingsland and then got lost on my way to De Beauvoir Town. After that I followed the canal to Angel and Finsbury where I walked in circles in the rain.


I went to Mayville Estate, where I actually did see this sign.



Yes, De Beauvoir Estate IS that ugly. But the Grand Canal is kind of nice - especially the closer to Angel you get.

I saw a number of interesting buildings and architect's practices (and scored some addresses to sent cvs, hooray!), but I spent too much time walking, so I saw only a fraction of what I wanted. By next time I will hopefully have bought a bike (and got a job and a flat).

Because I was going straight to a party afterwards, I was walking around with a heavy bag with maps, bottles of water, a jacket, pajamas, makeup and god knows what else. Also I was wearing ridiculous clothes and completely wrong shoes to go walking in.

I ended up exhausted and aching and starving in King's Cross, where I proceeded to sit in a cheap place and have a too heavy and too creamy lazagna.

Afterwards I was ready to collapse and there were still a couple of hours to go to the party, so I went all the way over to Queen's Park in Kilburn to find Angela who was visiting a friend, and crashed on their sofa and drunk their herbal tea for two or more hours.

Did I mention the party was an m&m party? Which means we had to dress as m&m colours. Hence my ridiculous outfit. I was wearing a short red dress, with bright red tights, a red cardigan and a red scarf. Totally ridiculous getup to go traipsing around London in.



They certainly took their theme seriously at the party. The food as all coloured with food dye. (Blue penne anyone?) Even the ice-cubes were coloured!

It was a great party! There were people from all over the world, and even a couple of Brits too! And there were loads of architects, yay! I talked about all sorts of random subjects with strangers, from the EU economic policies and farming, to building regulations, to the Smurfs, to whether Denmark has polar bears.

Unfortunately I drunk a bit too much a bit too fast, and I might have just missed the best part of the party. The place was still full of people talking excitedly when I made my hasty exit to the toilet and afterwards the comfortable leather sofa. I remember finding a nice warm woollen throw and curling up under it. Next thing I know there's only five people left in the party dancing drunkenly and it's almost five in the morning!

The awesome hosts let me crash there for the night. (And I wasn't the only one taking advantage of their wonderful hospitality!)

Needless to say, I didn't visit any of the buildings with Open House London next day, like I had planned to. Instead I met Angela at Southwark, where we went to laze on the marvellous Queen Elizabeth Roof Garden Cafe made by the Eden Project.



Then we proceeded to mooch around the Embankment until it got too cold and we took refuge in the cafe on top of the Tate Modern, where we proceeded to have tea with one of the best views in the city.



And now, Monday, I'm still tired and achey. Next time I will wear better shoes and a warmer jacket! Don't let me forget!

Walking the Heath and taking night buses

Now that this weekend is coming close, I thought I should get a move on and talk about last weekend.

Last Saturday, my friend Dimitris dragged me to his favourite place in London - and possibly the whole wide world, you never know with him - Hampstead Heath. This time I brought my camera. With a fully charged battery. Because Dimitris begged and nagged I should because he wanted photos.



Dimitris dragged me up Monument Hill, where we were almost blown away by the strong the wind. And then he snagged my camera and started snapping away like a trigger happy crazy thing.



When he was satisfied he had taken enough photos and I was fed up with the hill, we went for a walk across the heath. We meandered around the place and ended up by a big pond to sit on a bench together and bemoan the sore state of our lives.

After seeing the manor from afar, we decided it was time to get going, because we were invited to a party in Chalk Farm. It will hardly be a surprise to find out we promptly got lost and ended up following the sound of distant traffic.



We emerged on the opposite side of the Heath than we wanted to, and I brilliantly got confused and we took the 168 bus instead of the 268 bus. So instead of going to Chalk Farm we ended up at Finchley Road. Without a map. And neither of us having a clue where we were.

We did eventual find our way to the party, after a little break to eat some indian food and warm ourselves from the bitting wind.

And well, the party was fun! We drunk lots of wine, ate Natasha's gorgeous hand made finger food and talked about all manner of stuff.

And when the time to go home came, we walked to Camden Town with Dimitris and took the night bus to his place. Will you believe we spent almost two hours on that damn bus? I can't believe I spent so long getting back!

Poor Dimitris! He lives in a teeny tiny room in a ramshackle house with a crazy landlady and her layabout cousin who sleeps on the sofa. There truly is no way to describe exactly how unbelievably small his room is! I should take photos.

And because Dimitris crazy landlady works nights - she drives a night bus - I tiptoed out the house in the morning before she realised I had spent the night.

At the RIBA

Yesterday I went to a CDP thingy over at RIBA in central London. The thingy started at 9.30 in the morning. Which meant waking up early and enduring rush hour. I still haven't decided which one is worse.



Because I'm cheap and fares in this country are ridiculously high, I went the cheap way. By bus. Big big mistake! It was absolutely crowded with noisy screeching school girls. (Where were all the boys? Does segregation in the school in the UK extend to getting different buses in the morning too?) Oh god! The noise! In the half an hour I was on the bus I acquired a splitting headache. When I have money I will travel by train on rush hour!

By the way, what's with the short short skirts? I can see how the girls would like their skirts so short. (If I were a straight man I do not know how I would survive all that naked pubescent thigh flashed around. Thank god schools aren't co-ed, otherwise all the teenaged boys would be in a constant state of painful arousal!) But how exactly do the school authorities permit it? Aren't they any regulations about skirt lengths?

Anyway. I went to the CPD thingies. It was OK I guess. Some presentations interesting. Some not so much. I didn't meet anyone, but I did buy a nice big serious book on the British Building Code. Let's see when I read it!

While in the RIBA, I had all sorts of thinky thoughts. I even noted down some of them on this free notepad I was given. But I'm too lazy to transcribe today.

And then I went shopping. See, the RIBA is a short walk from Oxford Circus. And once there I couldn't resist the lure of Topshop. I know, I know, it's a teenagers shop. But I'm poor, ok? It's a dizzying confusing warren of a place. Perfect for the young I guess. Most of the clothes are cheap rubbish. (Their jumpers are atrocious! Not so much the designs as the syntheticness of the materials.) However I managed to score a pair of short black shorts (I know I'm too old, and I'm sure it was a trick of the mirrors, but I looked good in them and have wanted a pair for the past ten years, ok?) and one of those weird straight but sorta puffy skirts that seemed to be called paperback waist (what sort of name is that?)- also black. (I know the belt is awful, I will change it.)

Now I must not buy anything more. Ever! Because I can't spend all my money on clothes and books. Then how will I eat? (And even more importantly, how will I pay my public transport fares?)

Learning stuff and meeting people - part 2

It's time for me to bore you once more with what I was up to last week. God, I am the world's worst blogger! (And how pretentious is that? Calling oneself a blogger?)

Last thursday I had a lunch date with an architect friend of a friend. Go me! Doesn't it sound all serious and grown up meeting people for lunch dates? Especially people you have only met once before.

The lunch date went great. I have missed talking to fellow architects so much! And he proved to be a very cool and nice guy. He bought me lunch and told me to stop stressing so about having the perfect cv and not knowing enough to find work here. Did I mention it wasn't a romantic date, it was a work date? Yup, I harangued the poor guy to meet me to give me some advice and pointers.

And he's a Dane. The first actual Scandinavian I have properly met (I did sort of meet a weird Swede in 2001 but I don't count him). Are all Danes so warm laid back? All I know about Scandinavians I learnt from the cinema and this awesome webcomic.

Friday was a nice sunny day and my sister guilted me into taking her to the countryside. We went to Lee Valley and Waltham Abbey. It was a lovely huge walk over a network of paths through the countryside. There were streams and canals - complete with barges and boats - and lakes and lots of greenery. There were places to spot otters, watch for birds and chase dragon flies.

Because I am a disorganised idiot I took my camera but forgot both to charge the battery and to bring my spare battery. So I didn't take any photos. I feel so stupid! But I will trawl the net to steal other peoples photos instead...

Random thoughts on a Tuesday

I went down to central London today to see my sister one last time before she returns to Greece. I will miss her. We have become very close, especially as we were living together the last five years.

I have a couple of trivial observations to share:

1. Changing from the train to the tube at Highbury & Islington station was a brilliant idea! Changing tube lines at Green Park was a bad idea I should try to avoid repeating.

2. The V&A has lots of gorgeous, but far too expensive, stuff in it's gift shop. (I shall return when I have money.)

3. English girls have just as much - if not more - cellulite as Greek girls, and are not afraid to show it.

4. Le Pain Quotidien might have a nice atmosphere and fancy, tasty food but it still is horribly overpriced.

5. Prince Harry has the most ridiculous - and oddly mesmerising - hair colour. Is it real? (My grandmother insists it's proof that he's not actually Charles' son...)

Learning stuff and meeting people - part 1

Sorry for the little meltdown the other day. I have the tendency to be over-dramatic and easily embarrassed.

So what have I been up to? Lots. Too much for one post I think, so I'll just tell you in drips and drabs.

Do you really want to know? Proceed at your own risk.

You all know I'm unemployed - and homeless - right? The first thing I did as soon as I came to the UK was apply for an unemployment benefit. Which I got. Most British people are tremendously indignant when they find out that I have barely arrived in the country and yet am already getting benefits. Take it up with your MP, not me. If they are handing out money, it would be stupid not to apply for some. And anyway I am a British citizen, so there!

So the deal with this Jobseekers allowance - which is the official name of the dole - is that how have to regularly show up to your jobcenter to sign in and jump through all the hoops they ask you to with a smile. Well, ok, the smile isn't necessary, but it shows good attitude and makes you feel better. (By the way the allowance is actually quite small, much smaller than the Greek unemployment benefit and the cost of living in the UK is ridiculously high.)

Last time I went for my sign in, I also had a half an hour interview for them to check up on me and make sure I am actually trying to get a job. They give you a silly booklet to fill in with all the things you do to show them. I have been so busy that I have already filled one booklet and asked for a second. Which impressed them. Also I turned the charm on full force which meant we got to chatting with my councillor and ended up talking for over an hour instead of half an hour. Always get people to like you, it will be to your benefit. It's so strange how many people don't seem to realise that and act rude and belligerent seemingly just for the sake of it. Don't they realise that will just make people not want to help them? If you slip up, or make a mistake, who will they rather turn a blind eye for? The one who bothered to make friends with them, or the one who gave them a hard time?

I have a phd in dealing with the public sector. What do you think I spent most of my time doing in Greece with my job? I have perfected the smiling, wide-eyed, eager-to-please persona. I am also not above acting younger and dumber than I am. Never flaunt your intelligence or abilities. People don't like it. I slip up and do it quite often in private casual settings (I can be quite snobbish and arrogant), but never when dealing with civil servants.

Anyway, last time I went they signed me up for this two day course called 'Finding and getting a job' which was supposed to help with cv writing, interviews and stuff like that. It was seven hours each day and it was obligatory.

So I went. All the way to the miserable part of Edmonton Green where it was taking place. Even though I think the whole of Edmonton Green is most probably miserable. The building was unbelievably drab outside and not much better inside.

We were the craziest most mismatched group of twelve. There was a builder, a labourer, an office worker, a real estate agent, a singer from Jamaica, a Persian woman who could barely speak english, and a couple of people who patently refused to talk or take part in anything. And me. Who I am embarrassed to admit quickly became a bit of a teacher's pet by being one of the only ones prepared to give intelligent articulate answers. Me and two of the only three bona-fida white anglo-saxon english people there.

By the way, the 'teacher' was a hyper chinese guy about my age who used to be a head stylist for Toni & Guy. How hilarious is that?

Anyway, it was mostly a waste of time, but a strange and interesting experience never-the-less.

So that is how I passed my Monday and Tuesday... It made me feel strangely alien and alienated. Because the other people there were so obviously on a completely different wave-length. Would it be awfully racist of me to say that, besides the chinese teacher who was very personable and talkative, the ones I liked the most was the white british working class couple? They were the sort of people I would never have met otherwise, but seemed very pleasant and nice. And for you gleeks out there, I couldn't help thinking that the husband reminded me of a younger Burt Hummel. Which is a pretty good endorsement, isn't it?

Panic attack

Just posting to say that I'm still alive. I have been busy doing stuff and going places and meeting people. And I'm a bit overwhelmed frankly. I'm so used to being an anti-social hermit, that it's all a bit too much for me. I have drunk too much, laughed too loud, shared too much with strangers and awkwardly flirted too much.

OMG, I have flirted like an awkward teenager, and made bad jokes and generally possibly made a total fool out of myself in front of people I will be seeing and meeting again! I need to calm down, hide under my covers and get over how cringingly embarrassed I am currently feeling.

And no, I was not drunk. I just am an awkward shy socially inept geek that over-compensates in social situations and acts like a loud obnoxious flirty idiot. Oh god, I want to stay at home for a couple of days until I feel better. I have overdosed on socialising. And too many guys now have my phone-number...

Sorry about the random spazzing, but I needed to vent before collapsing into an uneasy stressed sleep.

Panic on the streets of London

So I guess you've all heard about things in London.

The first day if the riots, I was on the train home and it got held up just as we were passing over Tottenham. It never even occurred to me to think of riots, I just assumed it was over-exited sports fans after a football match. I was in the UK after all and it was Tottenham. When I got home I saw the news...



The second day of the riots, I was feeling under the weather and I was home alone - my grandmother has gone for a week to Devon with my aunt and cousin and assorted children and dogs. I invited my friend Dimitris over to hang out. When the sun set he left to go home, but ten minutes later I got a frantic call from him that he was coming back. Enfield Town had been cut off by rioters and my friend freaked out. He said they were arriving by car specifically to riot and loot.



Actually I think calling them rioters might be the wrong word. We have rioters in Greece, and their reasons and aims are political. They usually smash and burn banks, public buildings and Macdonalds (re: US imperialistic outposts). The ones here seemed set on looting shops and making a quick profit. Some were said to start selling the stuff off just a street down from where they looted it. So sorry if I'm not very sympathetic to their cause.

And yesterday I stayed at home and cocooned without looking at the news once.

Today I'm looking at the headlines and seeing that yesterday things really spread...

And as I write I can hear police sirens and helicopters. What the hell? It's one o'clock midday!

I've been busy!

As I said, my uncle and aunt arrived Thursday evening and stayed till Sunday morning. And as promised, the intervening time was spent in chaos and a whirlwind of random energy and excitement.

On Friday we went to Cambridge, where we ate and walked and got lost and found ourselves again.

I have three things to say about Cambridge. Because I've been before many times, and you all have either been or seen so many photos of the place you feel like you know it.

1. Cambridge is not very wheel-chair friendly. My grandmother has trouble walking because of her bad hip, so we wheel her around in a wheel chair. And let me tell you, it was very hard work in Cambridge! And rather painful for her because of all the bumps and cobbles and stuff.

2. Cambridge is a dream for bicycle lovers. I spent all my time ogling bicycles and drooling over the more attractive ones. I found my perfect bicycle! (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). It's an old fashioned women's city bike: a gorgeous white Raleigh with a beautiful flower design, a basket and a rack.


3. Cambridge is full of trendy students and cute young men even in the summer. One of the upsides of being in Britain is that I see many more cute guys than I did in Greece. When we went for coffee the cashier was a particularly drool-worthy twenty-something blond (and I'm not even that keen on blonds!). I tried giving him my most charming style, but there's only so much you can do when you're with your loud squabbling mother and aunt... (Unfortunately I don't have a photo, which is a pity because his haircut was absolutely perfect!)

On Saturday it rained all morning and then we went to Hampstead Heath where we got caught in the rain and promptly drenched. Afterwards we went to central London.


Three things about London:

1. If you want to buy an epilator go to Boots, it has the best selection. Also the Boots in Oxford street is absolutely huge!

2.Chelsey is a lovely neighbourhood, but also very expensive. If you decide to eat there bring a credit card and be prepared for a lot of damage.

3. Central London is also not very wheel-chair friendly (and they want to host the Olympics!). Some of their underground parkings don't even have lifts. And don't get me started with the underground!


And on Sunday I was invited to a barbecue in Clapham Junction!

Angela and Charles decided to have a barbecue to welcome her back to London. They invited all their friends, but apparently two weeks notice isn't long enough in London and at least half had already made plans. It rained all morning and most of midday so many of the other half decided to stay at home. But it still was fun!

Charles bought a gazebo that he set up in the garden and then spent hours trying to get the barbecue to work in the rain. But then the sun came out, the chicken - and the german sausages from Lidl brought by Cora the german- were cooked to perfection. We were all foreigners, and many were engineers, and we had lots to drink, lots to eat and laughed a lot.

I finally got to meet Giovanni (good looking, Italian and charming), Charles old room-mate from Brixton in who's bed Nikoletta and I had slept innumerable years ago while he was away and we were visiting. We had left him a post-card thanking him for the use of it, which we later learned he had kept to remind himself that two women had once slept together in his bed (and bemoan the fact he hadn't been there I guess...)

And Joss, the French womaniser, told us all about the restaurants he takes his dates and are guaranteed to work. Actually he said he first decides which restaurant he wants to go to and then goes through his phone list to see which woman best matches it. Charles and Albert the techie immediately started talking about creating an app to better help men like Joss pair up restaurants and women, and another for the women, to explain to them what their date's restaurant selection implies. I'm pretty sure Albert is working on it as I type...

Anyway, it was fun.


And now back to working on my CV. Charles and the consultant from RIBA I got in touch with gave me lots of advice on how to better it.

They all boil down to two things:

1. Include as much stuff as you can in the most concise manner.

2. Lie as much as you can.