Working in publishing as I have for the last 8 months, it's always a pleasure to see your name in the masthead of a magazine. I sent a couple home to my parents but I'm sure it was all mightily unimpressive in its 8 point font glory.

Anyway. I've got this small, wholly unformed idea in my head that my friends whose work is entirely web based can't have that satisfaction. Indeed in my upcoming role, I'll only see my name in one title, and all my other work will involve admin, which involves working on computers all day long.
So my idea is this: that if the online work didn't exist, and should all computer memory be wiped away (hey, I said unformed, not realistic) then surely all the work that I do on computers, all the work my clever coding friends do, and all the time I spend on this blog is spent in vain.

It's like when you go shopping: you will buy a coke, a sarmie maybe, try on 8 different pairs of shoes, then some airtime perhaps, then buy a really great scarf, then have a mineral water, go get your eyes tested, whatevs; the point is you've spent 3 hours in a mall and you walk out with a scarf you're not sure you really like. That is all you have to concretely justify the time and money just 'wasted'.

Okay, so now that you're all confused, or you work in IT and are now offended, I guess I mean that typing and clicking is not necessarily productive in the classical sense. Yes, you're getting work done, and your vision is slowly diminishing, and you are compltely knackered by the end of the day, but have you built a house today? have you sheared a sheep?

And so I'll leave it at that. Have a lovely New Year.

So Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all you people who celebrate this time of year! Our Christmas Day was lovely, filled with good people, food that seemed to take ages to prepare and about 5 seconds to eat, beer and cards. I got a gorgeous warm coat from my oh-so-thoughtful boyfriend, which I wore in to work today to fend off the -1C degree cold.

See my flickr account for photos of Christmas, Laurika's brush with X-Factor fame, and snow, YES, YES, IT SNOWED!

The fact that I'm working for today and tomorrow and then... well, I don't know... until 23 January - this is a very frightening prospect, my friends. Suddenly every purchase is worth an inner debate as to how badly I really need Strawberry Nesquick in the face of having to pay rent twice out of the same paycheck. I'm hoping for someting small to come along to tide me over and help me out with cash for the SA trip, so we'll see.

So, small financial worries aside, I hope your holidays have been as lovely and fun and relaxing as mine have been.

UPDATE: I now have employment from the 30th December to the 20th Jan. Never let it be said that going back to an old agent is a bad thing, nor that there are no jobs availible over the holidays. Everything keeps going right, Toyota.

I am! I am!

It would seem I've secured a different position with the same company, coming into effect end of January next year.

It would also seem that my boyfriend is moving into my flat this weekend.

Job - check.
Awesome boyf - check.
Peace of mind over Christmas - thank goodness, check.

To say the Christmas party was fun would be a bit of an understatement. Great venue, great people, great music, free booze, and random snacks which weren't so great actually.

Pics can be found here.

How ironic that one of our magazine clients decides to take us out ice-skating on the very day my lovely boyfriend arranged a surprise session of... ice-skating. I'm looking at this afternoon as practise for the real thing tonight; have visions of holding his hand and skating under the stars, how very Christmassy and how very very considerate of him considering how I've been saying we should go, we really should, but never organising anything.

I'm feeling pretty lucky to be in love and happy this Christmas. Now if I just have the guarantee that the knee will hold, I'll be fine.

Guess the google.

Can't talk. Christmas party swiftly approaching. Hair not co-operating. Shoes not worn in enough. Boyfriend texts he is getting a cold - must prepare self for two weeks of presenting caring persona. Interviews loom. Suddenly understanding how random people end up talking to own selves on night buses.

Seven Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1. Get a job HA HA HA
2. Have one amazing idea and act on it.
3. Develop a better relationship with a few choice family members.
4. Be a mom. A good one.
5. Own a house, one that is mine all mine with teacups in the kitchen.
6. Quit worrying about my weight.
7. Stop feeling bad about the amount of sleep I need.

Seven Things I Cannot Do
1. Dive into a swimming pool without it turning into a belly-flop.
2. Keep my shoes on post walking in the door to home.
3. Owe people money.
4. Dance without worrying about my knee.
5. Express my thoughts clearly. At least, not to my own satisfaction.
6. Drink Sambucca.
7. Run long-distance.

Seven Things That Attract Me To My (romantic interest, best friend, whatever applies to you)
1. Intelligence.
2. Honesty.
3. Sense of humour.
4. Compassion.
5. Kindness.
6. Consideration.
7. Nice ass.

Seven Things I Say Most Often
1. Coolio.
2. Hon.
3. Hectic.
4. I’m tired.
5. What. Ever.
6. PDF.
7. Baby baby baby.

Seven Books, Or Series (I presume on T.V.), That I Love
1. Never Let Me Go – Kazuo Ishiguro
2. Lost
3. Disgrace – JM Coetzee
4. Little Britain.
5. Family Guy
6. Eve’s Apple – Jonothan Rosen
7. Tortilla Flat – John Steinbeck

Seven Movies I Would Watch Over and Over Again
1. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
2. Adaptation
3. Lost In Translation
4. Amelie
5. Bring It On
6. Million Dollar Baby
7. Untamed Heart

Seven People I Want To Join In Too
1. Ianus
2. Dame-Lion Schumacher! (coda)
3. Adrian
4. Danzor
5. Charleney-bean
6. Aravorn!
7. Vern (chances!) - I stand corrected.

And I’m adding: Seven websites I check most often:
1. Pink Is The New Blog
2. foolstop - when it's up :)
3. news.bbc.co.uk
4. tony pierce
5. dooce
6. danzor
7. sevitzdotcom

I am having to find a new job. The company I gave 8 months of my 2 year work permit is not going to make me permanent or back my application for a 4 year work permit.

The more I look around me the more I realise that it’s the assholes who get rewarded and the people who do what their mommies taught them (be friendly, work hard, volunteer for extra work, make it clear you are committed to the company) get royally shafted.

Geez, can you imagine what an utter wreck I’d have been had this happened around the time of Ian and I being apart?

I feel betrayed and I want all the hours of my life back in which I did work over and above what was expected of me here.

I hate this. I hate that I’ve just committed myself to pay for flights for my SA trip. I hate that I paid good money for my 70s Christmas party outfit, in which I’ll celebrate the holiday with people I won’t be working with for much longer. I just bought new shoes for that effing party. I hate that my boss thanked me for 'taking this so well'. I hate that she hugged me. I hate that when employers and agents hear the words ‘South African’ and ‘visa’ they run scared. I hate rent. I hate having to send my CV out. It’s only been half a day and I’m bitter.

FilmThreat's Frigid 50 (found through Best Week Ever). Hell yeah:

19. Keira Knightley It’s official: she can’t act. It was all well and good when she was playing supporting roles (Bend It Like Beckham) or appearing in ensemble pictures (Love, Actually), but if Domino taught us anything, it’s that she can’t carry a picture on her own. And she really needs to keep her shirt on. Anti-Freeze: Take some acting classes and eat a goddamned pork chop.

Gmail now has a delete option! Thank yooooou! Thank you thank you thank you thank you.

*goes back to important and serious work-related stuff*

It's really really cheesy and really stupid but the light-up reindeer outside the shopping mall in Surrey Quays is just sooo prettyyyy...

I'm starting to love this time of year here - I've managed to find one of my flatmates a week-long position at my company and so have someone to share observations with on the way in to and from work every morning now :)

Found this little tidbit on '5 things about A Charlie Brown Christmas':

Wah-wah-wah

The teacher's voice was really a trombone, muted by a plunger. Perfect.

I've managed to book flights for Ian and I, but unfortunately not for the dates we'd hoped for (BOOOOO!). Looks like we're missing out an entire weekend at home, which gives us only 2 work weeks and 1 weekend worth of time in the sun - we land in CT in the afternoon of Tuesday 21st Feb and fly back to London on Saturday 4th March. I know it's very little time, but I'm looking at it as incentive to squeeze as much sun, fun, and friend and fam time into it as is humanly possible.

Generally my Christmas’s have gone pretty much like this:

Run up: lament at how my folks will be hosting everyone at their place AGAIN. Mom, Dad and me wallow in the misery of this, groaning about who will sleep where, who eats what and doesn’t eat what. Inner conflict of having loads of fam over versus losing my comfy double bed is soon placated by mother’s promise of at least one Sweetie Pie.

Days before: linen washed, tree put up (“ah but Nat, you do it so WELL!”), meal planned. Inevitably, annoying family member arrives earlier than everyone else, proceeds to make it their job to question every aspect of my life. Said nosiness veiled as caring inquiry. I escape, generally to beer with Charles. Come home wrecked after day’s worth of relative-avoiding drinking binge.

Day of: All relatives arrive, gifts are exchanged. Then the eating begins. After the eating, there is napping. More eating. A little more. Cups of tea. Reheated yummy potatoes. Constant failed attempts to sms friends. Maybe some more lamb. More lamb. Start to get meat headache. Nap.

Day after: Massive clean-up operation. The dregs of an enormous meal are converted into hundreds and hundreds of tiny little Tupperware tubs in the fridge. When said fridge is opened, at least 3 2L Cokes will fall out, all half full and serving no purpose other than costing space. Eating is encouraged, if only to create fridge space. I polish off the asparagus and the onion-free potato salad.

I imagine Christmas here will be somewhat similar. Colder, with more cups of tea.
Fewer gifts.
More Jenga.

Since I moved out of the Colliers Wood flat, Ian’s diet has been getting progressively worse. Mine hasn’t been comparably that much better, but there has been the odd butternut and broccoli floret thrown in for fun. So last night we had a proper meal, for the first time in ages, and he was frying up some deelish pork chops.

So he’s all: “How’s random girl person?”
And I’m like: “Oh I dunno. I’m not very happy with her at the moment.”
He: “Why?”
Me: “She’s so SELF-OBSESSED.”
He: “…”
Me: “What? What is that supposed to mean?”
He: “Nothing, I didn’t say…”
Me: “You think I’m self-obsessed and that it’s hypocritical of me to say that.”
He: “I didn’t say that.”

It’s something like what Peter says while watching Seinfeld in Family Guy: “Ha ha! It’s funny because it’s true.”

I’m pretty sure that when Chris wrote this post and mentioned narcissist blogging he had my blog (among others) in mind. And that’s okay – I’ve never claimed to have a topic other than myself here. At first it was all, Nat at Uni. Then, Nat at Uni and Away From Ian. And now Nat in London. Briefly, Nat in London and Away From Ian (see: previous month). Now, Nat in London and Back With Ian and Loving It Thanks.

I probably don’t have a very good reason to be self-obsessed. I ain’t no Raymi, I ain't no Jenny Good. I ain’t even no Bryanboy (although at least he has an angle, people!). But, sadly, rockit is about nothing if not about me. And maybe that’s sad or whatevs but hey. Rather that than random linkage to inane but strangely appealing things all the time.

I don’t know what I wanted to achieve here. Maybe it was just to end the couple of day’s worth of silence here. Or to let you know that I know it’s all ME ME ME around here.

Blah.