First Random Story Post

I'm going to write about... hmmm. The emotions? Yeh, each new story will be about an emotion from happiness, sadness, fear, anger, surprise and disgust.

  Today will be disgust!

* * *

Janet was disgusted. Her life was a disaster - her boyfriends could each be put into one of the categories of mystic, impotent or child (well, young anyway). She enjoyed working at the museum - the Rijks Museum in Amsterdam is lovely, and as deputy HR director she got to fuss with people. There was no adventure though - adventure, that smell of musky spices for the nose, had been blown out the window.
Gabriel, the aforementioned child, had brought in the smell of adventure initially. She frowned - now while he did still smell musky, it quite wasn't the same.

She gazed at the bored croissant and latte sitting on her desk, brought up by Josephine, her new assistant. She smiled - she'd impressed the oddly angular Josephine with the information that croissants were in fact Dutch, and not French - and began to make up a fictional fact to tell the girl. She'd been interspersing real facts - like the croissant - with made up ones for the last two weeks. Josephine had initially been skeptical, but after the first four had been proven on the internet, Janet had branched out into some more creative takings on history which were dutifully believed.

"Oh! Janet! Um, here, I sorted out the list of candidates down to twelve for the role of Social Media Director, did you like the list?" It was Thom, a Swede, who would email, message and then, eventually, wander into her office. He was interestingly tall - not tall enough to elicit alarm, but tall enough that he was in danger of banging his head on some of the doorways. He would have made a good giant in a movie, she thought - he had an unkempt appearance that he had to - was 'kempt' a word? - well, put effort into keeping.

The list itself was, like all of Thom's work, a dizzying display of genius, madness and indifference. "Yeah, it was pretty good Thom" she replied. "I removed a few of those oddball entries you seem to enjoy so much - I couldn't possibly put someone called 'Corinth Chenters' forward to any roll, but I'll admit the fact he had no discernible social media experience aside from flushing his last career with some pretty racist tweets -"

"He must have learnt a lot thought about how social media works, and he did manage to stifle some of it when he started tweeting about cats though. I thought that was pretty smart."

 Janet, inwardly, sighed. She also audibly sighed too - but while the outward sigh stopped Thom in his tracks and let her tut tut him, the inward sigh captured the failed boyfriends, the ruinous work and the leaking shower.

"Thom, there is no way we're hiring someone who wrote - well, who wrote ANY of what Corinth wrote about Romanians, Turkish or any of that other rot" she stated flatly. "I'll admit that the pick of the kid who made money on youtube with model figurine filmmaking looks very promising".

"He also wrote about midgets ..." Thom couldn't help but always defend his more ludicrous choices. Janet briefly wondered if the same game she played on Josephine was being played by Thom on her.

 "He wrote about thirty tweets wondering where they all lived, if they had a secret city and all sorts of gibberish about renting a godzilla costume and terrifying them. Interspersed with the usual racist mutterings. He's a firm 'no'"

She'd actually enjoyed reading about the living arrangements of midgets, which was an idea she'd never had before, and while a drink and a very disciplined, focussed conversation with Corinth on the matter might be reasonably interesting she wasn't going to even have a sniff of the man in the Rijks Museum. Unless he paid entry, of course.

After discussing with Thom the list, she told Josephine that the Aztec's pyramids were all slightly askew due to rampant cocaine use. It wasn't bad - she also liked last weeks' where 'Star Wars' was initially meant to be a documentary about space, but a particularly juiced up Mark Hamill proposed a space drama instead. She then grabbed some lunch - her last green-cleanse drink which she'd been putting off because it tasted like a mixture of electricity and sand. It was what a starving madman with a green fetish might pass for a particularly wholesome meal, but it was a gift from her elder sister - anyone else and it might be a subtle hint to drink less and eat better, as though that might find her a decent man, a nicer apartment an altogether "proper" life. Her sister, however, just really liked the drink and had wanted to share it with Janet.

 She spent the afternoon trying to get a better brief from the one of the team leads in exhibits. "Do they need any particular skills?" she'd asked.

"Yes, of course. Why want unskilled people? Don't need to advertise - get a music hobo. They need money and have no skills."

 She pondered that the team lead would make an excellent companion for Corinth, and that she'd better have someone check if he had a social media account where similar views were expressed somewhat more freely. After working out what might make for a decent specification, she worked with Thom on how to advertise it - for some jobs, like the earlier social media one, advertising on the main site made sense, but was also a pain - the number of applicants for any role was massive, which is how Thom had come across Corinth and a few other colourful prospects. For this role though, working with a partner company might be better - and an easier workload.

She liked her role as deputy HR Director - there wasn't any actual HR Director, the last one having resigned some years ago. As such, the Board had decided that the HR Director role was hers - as long as she could prove herself fit for it. They'd then decided that she hadn't proven herself fit, so she would continue to be the deputy director, and hunt for her new boss. She'd responded by getting Thom to pick a list, and then removed the more qualified candidates, leaving only Thom's inspired picks. This had, of course, been one of Thom's first assignments - he was over the moon that his long shots had made the list.
One of the candidate's was just called "Maverick", under interests had listed "tabletop dancing, cat fancier, museums" and had written what seemed to be an application for a baroque interpretation of what a museum might be, if imagined by the Pope.
After this, the Board and her had come to an uneasy truce - she would have a small pay rise and the authority, if not the title. It was this early show of approval for Thom's picks that had inspired him for the next three years to keep on adding them to shortlists.

At five-thirty, tired and a little irritable with the partner company's suggestion for fees, she swept out of her office and wandered out into the mixed sea that was Amsterdam. The performers outside had packed up, and the last of the tourists was smartly striding off to wherever tourists go. She went to the tram station to ride home, change, and then off to a date with Clake, the mystic boyfriend.

* * *

First Post as An Entrepreneur

I've been playing that classic computer game "Civilization IV" a lot recently. This is because I lack the discipline that other, less-entrepreneurial people have. But it got me thinking - "can I write a post about a computer game and make it into a really intelligent observation about entrepreneurship?" I just thought that, and I've realised I might need more thought on if I can do that. So instead let me update you on what I'm doing. I'm working with Cecilia - she is a clever cookie, a 4.0 (really, I think she is a 3.99 or something but we round up here at Memoirs) from Columbia, and as such is the one everyone is v. impressed with. We're doing a pilot run of my app, Wibbler - which you can find only on the google play store oh god I'm a sham - ahem, in Nigeria! Happily, neither of us are in Nigeria now, because that costs money. Instead, we're paying a pretty sharp dude to run the project for us. I'm not going to go into the details of the project - because it is boring, involves buying 1,000 more posters than we need (apparently the more posters you buy, the less each poster costs - so someone bought 1,000 more posters because they "were cheaper") and is going slowly. Instead, I guess I'll follow my madcap adventures around London trying to make contacts! Yesterday I went to a conference where I got three girls email addresses. This would, in olde times, be a v. good night for me as far as hitting on women goes, I probably should have pretended to be an entrepreneur when I was younger. The girls - women, really - in question were all related to Africa in one way or another, so that was good. ... Hmmm. Ok, I need to seek some ADVENTURES in this entrepreneurship thing. I'll have some tomorrow - right now I have a cough and am roughly coughing up a lung, which is less good than you'd imagine.

Bringing the blog back?

I don't think anyone reads this anymore, so i guess there isn't much reason to have fanfare about bringing the blog back. Of course, one wonders *why* you'd bring a blog back - you need a reason, right? I suppose my reason is - omg i was going to write "i'm in a state of flux" but that is a fukkin' ridiculous thing to write, so instead I guess I will write "i'm finally trying to be an entrepreneur!". And of course, that means that I'm doing entrepreneurial things - living at my friend's apartment because I cannot afford to pay rent! Working in coffee shops! Walking everywhere because public transport is expensive! Oh the joys of being an entrepreneur. Anyway, I imagine that there might be some fun things to write about while I entrepreneur all over London, so that is what this blog is now about. No more a "reluctant traveller" ~ now I'm "poor". YAY! I'm also thinking of writing a children's book - so, I'll be alternating these oh-so exciting posts with short stories! Stay tuned! Or just read the next post, where I'll summerise what I'm up to.

A poem!

I am in Berlin right now (completely the most awesome city i have visited, well, big city, anyway). And i was just in Deia (also gorgeous and delightful!) and there is much to write, but it is late and i am tired. And so instead i will give you all a poem i just wrote, because i am, say, in that mood!

Also v.v.tired, i spent the whole day cycling around berlin with two delights, it was really very nice!

Ok - and now the poem!

id normally edit it a bit? But i just had a book stolen (in deia, bah! bah!) in which i had written another poem, and i am a little annoyed that i lost it. So here is a first draft, just for good safeskeeping, which we all know i lack, no?

The road winds through the forests of my heart,
The mountains of my history look down in
                stony
               silence.
The seas that keep my soul so constant seem
though they from time to time will storm and thrash
though they, from time to time will angrily lash
against my glittering rocks
to no avail
the rocks they still
                              are                            there.
Other roads will come and go,
They'll pass on by, or maybe grow
A special kinship with
my
own.
So pleasant
to drive
on a road merged fine,
Where bend and curve match fully, to the line.
the greatest pain is turning off,
running off,
jerking that
wheel


off
my yellow plated road.
Does that rush,
that craze,
that frenzied care
freedom from that gaze,
winning of those seas;
does that, that those merged roads give,
replant the trees felled
when those two lines depart?

A quick story about Vani

Who was a recruiter I had back in London. Now, let's paint the tale - starving software engineer, down on his luck, looking for a job. Vani, the recruiter with a job, and The Man, in this case a company (whose name I have, actually honestly forgotten) which was in the business of "adult phone services". This is either (for women) crap like horoscopes and cooking recipes, and (for men) "adult phone services *wink wink*".
I added the "*wink wink*" just for clarification.

SO yeah, I blow them apart, do their dinky little "java test" and kill it, and then they offer me the job. It's not much money, and the company is by no means a bank, and it is in no way at all a career step that is worth my time. So I ask them for time to "think about it" - I'm waiting on some other offers.
Oh wait, it's an IT job, I wasn't actually being offered to pretend to be a women to lonely men over the phone.
The more time passes (I asked for 3 days - stupid!) and I don't have a definite on the other offers yet... Vani (the recruiter? Remember? He was a paragraph ago, goldfish-person) calls. I tell him I need more time.
Then he calls back.
"Andrew, this is Vani. I have just spoken to the client, and he is saying that he thinks he has given you the time to make the decision, and you should make the decision. He thinks that if you don't take it now, but take it later, it means you don't really want this job and you will just spend your time looking for new jobs."
Vani, mate, the client is astute. But this leaves me in a bad place! I can't possibly accept this job, but I don't have guarantees on the other fronts - what happens if IT ALL FALLS APART? Huh? What then?
So I accept. Oh, wait, I'm doing talk-things now instead...
"Vani, I'll accept the job, but the wage isn't what I'm looking for. See if you can get it up a bit, let's add, ummm, five thousand pounds."
Now, I know what this client (The Man) is thinking - they think that the other jobs have piked on me (when they are just slow), and I'm diddling around for more money.
"Andrew, this is Vani. The client has come back, and will add two and a half thousand pounds, and no more."
"Well, Vani, then I can't take the job."
"Andrew, I'll let you think about it, and will call you back."
"No, Vani..."
"*deet-deet-deet*"
(That last bit wasn't Vani SAYING deet-deet-deet, but was the sound of the hung-up dial tone. Got it?)
Ok, so, Vani calls back, and adds on ANOTHER thousand pounds. But after a bit, I tell him I can't accept the job. They wanted me to start immediately, and were generally being ridiculous about the whole thing.
Which is when Vani thinks the time is right to open up a can of Vani-quality-whup-ass on me.
"Andrew, this is Vani. I know you want to work in the financial sector, but you don't have enough experience to do that. You can't just get a job in that area without experience. This is a good job, and it's a good step up for you. After two years, you will have enough experience to get that financial sector job, but right now, you should take this. You only have a year's work, you aren't going to find a better paying job anywhere in London. If you don't take this now, you won't get another chance at this job."

It was the most cynical, disgusting thing that's happened on holiday, and I've seen the poor and impoverished. Vani was really just trying to twist the knife to get me to accept this job. It was being really crudely done by him, but he was doing it nonetheless. Anyway, I

Ok, so no exciting story

The story? Well, the plan WAS to go to the airport, and check in my luggage. Seeing as I only had a coupl'a tees and some jeans, and they were in a plastic bag, there really wouldn't appear to be a need to. But, oh, there was.

See, in the oosa, the airports have this quaint law about not carrying more than 3oz (whatever THAT is. Whenever I see oz, I think of the lamentable teenage mutant ninja turtles movie: "The Secret of the Ooze" (or maybe it was a game)) of liquid... and yep, you gueesed, I am packin' more than that.
"How?" You ask, oh so helpfully? No, really, do you? Oh! You do! Good!

Well, because I carry contact-lens fluid on me. Going TO NYC, the delights at customs not only insisted I throw away my 4oz container, but ALSO that I throw away my mostly-used toothpaste. Why I'd brought it, I don't know, I hadn't brought the brush. There are 2 ways to carry these deadly liquids through the oosa airspace, by the way. One is by putting it in a clear, quart-sized zip-locked bag zzzz-zzzzzzz-zzzzz.

The other is to check it in! Obvious.

So, the plan was, on the way back from NYC to SFO (I don't know what the 'O' means, the airport is called San Fran International...), to check in my contact lense fluid. Think of the hilarity at 1am when I toddle off the plane, only to have to go to the rotating thinggummy whatsit to wait for my contact lens bottle, that would dutifully trundle off the conveyor belt, alongside the other bags.

Ok, it's a pretty funny image, except that had I done it, it would have been 1am and I wouldn't have bothered. As it happens, though, I didn't do it. And NOT because I wasn't allowed to... but because I didn't need to. Yep, they just let me carry my contact-lens fluid RIGHT ONTO THAT PLANE. God knows what the "evil forces" that threaten this fine nation (oosa) will do with that info now it's on the internet, but I'm not flying here again!

Oh, and Fox News? I watched one of your shows tonight - it's called the "Bill O'Reilly Show". Just thought I should let you know, after watching it? My IQ dropped... that darn thing isn't high to start with, and your show's simplistic grammar and easy-to-reuse point of view (the world is, apparantly, full of "good guys" and "bad guys") has lowered it more. It took my a full ten minutes to open the fridge door after watching your show, and it was only later that I realised that I'd really wanted to go out and get some milk. I was wondering why it was so dark outside. And cold. And small.

I'll sue! That's what I'll do!

And another post from me!

That is two in one day.

So here it is!

Click here to view these pictures larger

Stupid thing. I just want to show the photo! Not show some clever and yet not-working slideshow!

Sigh sigh sigh...

maybe later, loyal readers!