Finest Pain. Ow.

I'm coming up with post titles by reading random things again. It actually says FINEST PAIN AU CHOCOLAT... and has, as these things often do(n't?) nothing to do with anything.

So...

The London Riots
were stupid. They seem to be over now and there is, of course, a lot of talk about what caused them. They started after Mark Duggan, a 29-year-old father of three, was shot dead by police in Tottenham. I'm not sure if this was a botched arrest or what, but what followed was a candle-light vigil two days later. The participants of that vigil marched toward the Tottenham police station. And after that, the explanation is that it "turned violent" or that "violence erupted".

The vigil makes sense. Yes, by all means, if you think a powerful group of people, especially your own government, has done something wrong, protest. By all means, be imposing, get in their way, show them how many people think what they've done is wrong, are willing to fight for justice - but how the hell does setting people's homes/cars/businesses on fire achieve anything?

And, of course, now there are people blaming the government cuts and unemployment and the rising cost-of-living and poor parenting and anything they can think of other than the little bastards that seized the opportunity to get free shit and light stuff on fire. Yeah. The government is oppressing me and treating me unfairly. Society has turned its back on me. I'm going to go steal some trainers and mug an old lady.

Waitressing
sucks, but it's getting better. I feel like I never know where I'm supposed to be. I keep getting told different things by different people and if I ask a question, a lot of the time, whoever I asked gives me a dirty look then just does what I'm supposed to be doing. Actually, a lot of the time, I literally don't know where I'm supposed to be because I now have three restaurants to work in and all my rota says is when I'm working, not where.

I really like the chefs and the kitchen porter guys. I remember a kind of rivalry between the wait staff and the kitchen staff at the last kitchen I worked in, and I'm pretty sure it had something to do with the wait staff treating us like trash. I try not to do that, to make sure I say please and thank you, regardless of how busy I am, and not to make a huge mess with the dirty dishes.

All whining aside, I'm starting to get the hang of it, I think. Today was pretty ok.

Bad Parenting
annoys me. I have a table of regulars with this kid. The youngest he could possibly be is 8 and that's an over-sized, over-developed (physically) 8. My guess would be that he's 10-11, although, physically, he could be 12-13. But let's, just to give him the benefit of the doubt, say he's 8. I've served his family three times now. He has eaten only pork (I mean only) on all three occasions. One time, he got paid to finish his "meal". He's rude and needs to be the centre of attention - but he's 8, so I guess we can make allowances - except, I've seen him punch his grandmother in the back twice (as in on two occasions, two punches per time), once because he ignored being asked for his order and she pointed out that this was rude and once, I think, just for fun - although he asked for money after this, so maybe for money? And his mother sat there and said nothing, pretended not to see. His grandfather sat there and said nothing. His older brother shot me an apologetic look, as if to say, Yeah, I know, but what can you do. I can't even imagine what would have happened if I had behaved this way - and I won't say at his age. I mean, at all. Ever. Well, yes I can. If I had been two and hit my grandmother, I would be sent to my room. If no room was available, to the car (for years, I didn't realize that my parents actually were stood near by, watching said car) and I would have stayed there until I was ready to apologise. Violence begets violence, I guess, because now I really want to punch this kid in his face.

Someone
is having a BBQ. I so want it.

NaNoWriMo 2011

So I've started working on the outline and character sketches for NaNoWriMo 2011. It is going to be one incredibly effed up story, but hopefully a little amazing as well.

I've also been trying to update devereaux court a lot this month because I think it needs to be updated at least three times a week if we ever want it to get serious readership.

I think that's about it. There's work stuff in there, somewhere, but it's a nice day and I want to go to the beach and not think about jobs and boring crap like that.

The end, for now.

♥

So I had an interview this morning and I have work tonight. I was hoping my interview would end before mi novio had to be at work, but it didn't; we missed each other by minutes. When I got home, there was a note on my computer, asking me to run an errand. At first, I was all whiney (internally whiney), thinking It's hot, I don't wanna go back out. Why do I have to-- and then I noticed the little smiley face on the bottom of the note and a much more sensible internal voice pointed out that I'm pretty much the luckiest person alive and I should go out in the sunshine and enjoy my damn errand - which is exactly what I did.

Athena the Waitress

The list just keeps getting longer. I've been a: commissioned painter, flier deliverer, administrative assistant, gas station attendant, Athena (this was my official job title and the people who came after me were called Athenas as well), security guard, security dispatcher, portrait photographer(x2), customer service agent at a gym, graphic designer, room attendant, telemarketer(x2), front desk agent at a hotel, charity fundraiser, order taker at a pizza place and now, a waitress. These are pretty much in the order that I did them, starting from about age 5 or 6 and carrying on through the past 20+/- years - and there's a very high chance that I've left some out.

Waitressing isn't bad. It was much better today (day 2) than yesterday. I had my own tables today (only 2) with really nice guests. Everything went swimmingly. Plus, I now know what a fish fork looks like, which is something I never thought I would have any reason to know. I guess you learn something new every day.

My feet hurt and I'm going to sleep. I don't have to wake up at 6:30 tomorrow morning, which makes me a happy camper, believe you me.

My Adventure with Cancer

As I write this, I have sitting in my draft posts an open letter to some puritanical nutcase regarding his take on the sexual revolution. The reason it is in draft stage is that, almost 500 words in (not counting footnotes) I still have a lot to say on the subject.

So why is it when today, upon learning that my uncle's cancer has returned, I was rendered completely speechless?

I found out via facebook, of all things. He created a page called My Adventure with Cancer to update his friends and family on his journey while he fights this disease for the second time. Even after the initial shock, when I'd managed to stop crying and calm myself down a bit, I couldn't bring myself to like the page. Of course I want to be kept up to date. Of course I want to be able to send messages of support. But - and this is going to sound stupid - I kept thinking my FB profile page is going to read Athena McCormick likes My Adventure with Cancer.

I told myself this was stupid. Everyone will understand that Facebook uses very limited language to talk about everything, no one is actually going to think that I like the fact that my uncle has cancer. So I decided to click the dreaded like button, to ensure that I'll get emails or updates will end up in my newsfeed or however the Hell Facebook does things these days. But when I went to do it, I still couldn't. I saw all the messages of support coming in from my uncle's friends, offering prayers and well-wishes and I couldn't think of anything to say. At least, nothing that seemed right. I'm not religious. I pray. I prayed every single day from the time I found out he had cancer the first time, until after the surgery he had to remove it. I had a little chant, so as not to leave anything out. That his surgery would work, that they would get all the cancer, that he would be ok. But offering my prayers to the universe-in-general to a Christian man who knows I don't share his faith seems wrong somehow, like taking a coal-powered train to an environmental protest. I thought, I should tell him I love him - and then I thought, how incredibly awkward would that be? My family love each other, of course we do, but we don't go around saying it all the time, and I kept thinking that if I tell him I love him suddenly, after hearing this news, it's going to look like I think he's going to die.

I've lost three family members to cancer, a much-loved aunt and both of my grandfathers. I imagine a world where every disease is cured, every war ended, any injury can be mended and we all die of cancer. What a horrible imagination I have.

Eventually, I came up with what I wanted to say and I said it - part of it. I put it out into the world and now I just have to hope that it was enough, that it was the right thing to say, that the occasion didn't require something more or less or different.

You would think, in a world like ours, so besieged by terrible diseases, there would be a protocol for this, an etiquette. That somewhere, a prim British lady with white gloves and an ugly hat should be telling young girls what to say when a family member is diagnosed - while the girls balance books on their heads and walk in circles around a reception room. You would think.

There's some comfort, perhaps, in the idea that we're all muddling through this, that no one knows how they're supposed to behave in these situations. And it's nice to know that I come from a family of fighters, of people who don't give up, of people who are determined to beat the odds.

It makes me proud. It really does.

IRN BRU - Feel Phenomenal

Mmmm Irn Bru.
Ok, Irn Bru has absolutely nothing to do with this post, except that mi novio found my bottle from a couple of days ago in his bag this morning, so I have something tasty to drink while I blog.

Yesterday was pretty much a nothing day; I spent the entire day indoors, applying for jobs and not watching a movie. The day before, however...

I woke up at 8:00am, all set to get dressed and get a bus to my new job for 11:30. Except, as I mentioned in the previous post, my new job made me want to kill myself. So I really didn't want to go. Really, as in, the idea of going made me want to burst into tears and/or hyperventilate. I thought because I'd done telesales before, it would be somehow easier this time. Not so. Actually, it's a lot worse when you know that there is no possible chance of your job improving, ever. So after much deliberation and declarations that I would spend every possible moment looking for a new job, if only I could quit this one, I called the recruitment agent who found it for me and told him thanks, but no thanks. I know there will be a lot of people thinking I'm insane because unemployment is so high and yes, there is a chance that things will get so desperate that I have to go crawling back to the recruitment agency and beg for call centre work, but for right now, relieved doesn't even begin to cover how I feel.

On the subject of British nationals who complain that immigrants are stealing all their jobs: I don't blame you at all for not wanting to work in a call centre, but if you really are willing to do anything, there are a lot jobs available. Also, please stop bitching about immigrants getting paid British pensions as if all the money comes from your taxes. If we immigrants are expected to pay into the pension fund, we have every right to take out of it when we retire. Alternatively, if you don't want us collecting pensions, start petitioning your government to have us pay fewer deductions on our wages.

So, after quitting my job (and setting a new record for least time in employment - not counting the 'voluntary assessment' period at a company that was very vague about themselves right up until they tricked me onto a bus and tried to get me to do door-to-door canvasing), I went with my guy to a shop that was having a kick ass sale on outdoor clothing, so he could buy a really good rain jacket for much less than it was worth. He insisted on getting me a jacket too, despite my protests. It's a really nice jacket ♥

After that, we walked around (in our spiffy new jackets) and handed out CVs to a million different hotels and three or four recruitment agencies.

At one of the hotels, we walked in and I saw a bird stuck in the window and trying desperately to escape. So instead of asking if they had work available right away, I ended up catching this tiny bird and setting him free outside. He was so sweet and soft and scared and I really don't care if I killed any chances of them hiring me by rescuing him (personally, if it were my hotel, I'd hire someone because they'd saved a bird from my lobby).

After CVing, the weather had gotten quite warm, probably because we'd just bought rain jackets. I was extremely excited about this because I'd been dying to go swimming since January, when Spoy and I did the polar bear dip in Jasper. So we went home and I changed into my bathing suit, then we went to the beach. The water was ass cold, but swimming was super fun (although short-lived).

After I got changed back into clothes (+jacket), we walked along the beach, then through the park, went to the grocery store and bought salmon and wine and potatoes, came home and had an amazing dinner.

Now it's bucketing down rain, so I think the job search will be conducted mostly indoors today. In either case, it's definitely shower time soon.

And I'm Back

We finally got our Internet sorted a couple of days ago. Prior to that, we'd been using the computers at the library since moving into the new place, which is why this blog hasn't been updated in a million. So a couple of things...

Number one, the above picture is of a design which I created for a T shirt, mostly for my sisters, but really, for anyone who knows and loves Supernatural (and irony). I'm thinking I'd really like to do an A Team one with the original A Team. I'm a little strapped for time* at the moment, so we'll see how it goes.

*Number two, I got a job, which is why I'm strapped for time. I'm working for a recruitment company and at the moment, they've got me working at a call centre. Today was my first day and I just about left to go buy a melon baller, so that I could remove my eyes and subsequently scoop out my brain. I don't understand how something so mind numbingly dull can be so stressful at the same time. I really don't want to go back tomorrow. Really a lot.

Number three, AthenaMcCormick.com is up and running again. So hooray there.

Now it's time for the new Torchwood, so no plug at the end of this post.