Flipping Shoes

In recent article in papers, women in UK are said to be spending most of her money on shoes, and it is not unusual for women to own 100 pairs. I don't have that many pairs, but latelly I have been buying quite a few. It started off when I needed suits for my job interviews. I bought suits, then noticed that I needed tops to go with them, because all I had had some logos of, well, not so professional meanings.

Then I realised that I can never work in my boots, which have a hole anyway, or my skechers. So I began buying shoes.

When I mention shopping that is eBaying, as all my mates know. (Yeah, my life in Dundalk used to be scheduled around cable TV and eBay...) I am hooked on eBay, and I used to have an established business via eBay. I cannot even imagine doing clothes shopping outside of it!

Anyway. The only, and obvious problem with buying shoes off eBay is that you can't try the pair on first. And shoes are very tricky things to buy even when you try them on off-line.

I think that many women buy so many shoes because shoes are just too darn hard to buy. They fit, in so many different ways, like,

"They fit but are slightly tight in width."

"They fit but are too hard on sole, can't run in them."

"They are comfy, but they are not my size."

"They are perfect fit but SO unfashionable."

And I am usually like,

"Have one or two pairs fit well and go well with everything as long as I am with people who know me well."

But this time I really need to be picky. The pair need to be comfy and smart and durable. 

And every pair comes from eBay is NOT fitting. So I have to re-sell them. This is as though I am flipping properties.

They probably would fit with sock adjustment, but they are not kind of shoes I can wear socks. What a hair-pulling nuisance this is. This buy-sell-buy-sell cycle needs to go on for a long time...

Shoe shopping is SO doomed. Why women do this if not for finding a good pair?

The Great Escape

Why am I writing about mice for days, with all the tiny, boring details? It's about my new job. It just came back to me when I got a job in aviation/logistics. Those mice had very unique story attached to their tails through years.

I was reading my "booklet to the new employees" and clearly they insist on the safety in there many a times. My job will be dealing with a lot of inter-continental regulations and stuff, and it just came to me how I had this experience with my mice.

One year, I was visiting my family, and I couldn't find anybody who would look after my mice. So, I decided to smuggle them on board, in several cigarette boxes.

Yeah, I know, it's outrageous, and I was not happy doing that, but I really had no choice.

All went well, I passed the gate and went into a lady's room and safely put them back into the cage. The cage then went into a flat bottomed carrier bag.

It was all fine, till half way through the flight, till I decided to check in on them. They were happily munching the grains, so I put the lid down and hid the cage well under my seat.

15 min later, I hear a tiny scream coming from the person sitting in front of me. Then there were rush of air-hostesses running about, holding up a paper bag, apologising and hushing and muttering. Somehow, I knew what is was ALL about, but I did look down into my bag anyway. Yes, there was only one mouse, and, yes, the lid was half open. I didn't push it enough till it clicked.

I stood up, and went up to the air-hostess with a paper bag, and asked her if I could see inside.
"Oh, ma'am, it really isn't something for your eyes."

"Well, I really think it is. OK, please just tell me what it is you are holding."

She then tells me it is a mouse, and so I went on telling a total none-sense on how that mouse is NOT mine but is very important to me so I want it back.

She was so freaked out, she was so determined to kill it right away. I begged and apologised and kept telling all these lies. I did that because I had no intension of coming clean about the other mouse.

Anyway, turned out it was actually OK to import mice without checking them first. (I was told so then anyway.) So, I didn't risk anyone's health.

I am SO not proud of what I did, but I am more against of disposing animals for your convenience. I thought about the danger of doing it, and after some studying I came up with the conclusion that it's probably OK. (And to be precise, I couldn't find a info on how to do it legally.) I won't do it again, though.

So, back to the point. My pets are cheap. That's why I usually get my dogs from shelters, and buy mice on sale.

More Travelling

Now, I am not sure, still, if that's super cheap, but ever since I saw the sign, all I could think was mice. I wanted to have a dog, but I was living in a student hall and it was not allowed. It had to be small, and have to be remotely like dogs if I get anything. And I really wanted to have a pet. Mice are mammals, and they are SO small. I am sure I can manage to control the smell by keeping them clean. The only thing is to make sure I get same sex pairs.

So, I went in, and bought myself a pair of male mice and a small cage and the water feeder.

I then went to the Royal Naval College, served my purpose of the entire trip. I am not sure how I ditched my stuff, but I recall not having the stuff till later that day.

I then went to the Kew Garden, WITH my mice, and a restaurant in China Town, WITH mice. I remember getting lost in the Kew, and had to hide my mice and other stuff in a gardenia bush or similar so I can wonder off to find the places. So I must had all the bags with me then. I remember worrying about smell and noise when I put mice on the table when I ordered a ball of noodle. I think the reason I had to put mice on the table, in a thick white plastic carrier bag, was that I was carrying all the bottles and books in the pack. I remember walking in absolute agony, with mice cage dangling from my hand, and told myself,
"Never again."

Anyway. All I am trying to say was that this trip was VERY physical one. And it was a very emotional experience for me because I got myself little additions, and finally making it to the Royal Naval College, after years of dreaming to stand in between those columns.

Meet the Pet

I knew nothing of Calais, but just assumed that it is a touristy place where everyone goes for SEEING thing. (I now know, obviously, that it's the place for shopping in bulks.)

So, when I reached Calais, after not so much sleeping for about 24 hrs, I was completely lost. Calais had nothing visibly interesting. Besides, I was on the edge of collapsing after the long bus ride.

Then I decided to go further to Paris, which did cost a bit but, well, wouldn't be a total waste.

Had fab time in Paris. I remember it as a quiet holiday, as I didn't really speak to anyone, apart from the hotel people, for the entire time I was there. I regretted not having been successful in my Spanish Class, Parisian seemed to less hate Spanish speakers, compare to English speakers.

I remember taking a nap in Muse D'Orsey,  after completely satisfied looking at Lautrecs. I remember trying to have a fancy dinner and all I could afford was a pizza at an Italian restaurant. I remember McDonald's coffee was SO good. A can of coke did cost 1.5 quid, which nearly shocked me to death.

When I got back on board on P&Q, heading back to Dover, it was the time for my shopping. I was into vodka at that time, and was asked by my gay Finish neighbour to get him a bottle of Finlandia so we can share it one night. So, my back-pack-like-pack was immediately filled with that and some other bottles, which eventually weighed about 30kg.

I got back to Victoria with art books and booze on my back, and bought a train ticket to Greenwich. It was 4pm or 5pm when I reached there.

Basically, I was sent back to London by kind stranger who found me wondering, looking for a B&B. They said it's not safe and there's no chance I'd find one. (And I was pretty sure that I knocked one of K.K.K. buildings when I was looking for a hotel.) Somehow, I was wondering about in Greenwich for 6 hrs without finding anything.

Next day, I went back (more money!) and the first thing I did was to find a pet shop I saw the day before. It was a HUGE pet store with a sign on the window;
"SALE! 1 mouse 99p"

Pet

My idea of pet is "CHEAP", that is all. The theory behind it is that you'll grow to love it anyway, so why should you spend tons of money to get expensively inbred pedigrees.

That's how I ended up travelling with two mice when I was doing Paris-Greenwich-Wales tour. It must be 7 years ago or something. I had several missions in that trip;

1. Go to France. It doesn't matter what I would achieve there, just going to France was the mission.
2. Get as much duty free stuff as I can, as I am NOT walking.
3. Go and find the Royal Naval College.

I was bored. It was Summer Vacation time and I had no friend around, had nothing to do. Everyone was going everywhere and I felt like I should. As far as my status was concerned, I was only there to take short trip to Europe for extended time for a very short while, and it seemed like a waste if I didn't go anywhere.

The thing is, I didn't have much money. I could do coach trips with duty free shopping, but not flying away. We didn't have Ryan-bloody-air back them, if my memory serves correctly.

So, I took a coach from Wales to Victoria, then to Dover, then to Calais via a P&Q ferry.

Old Fashioned and Stubborn

The reason I felt like an outcast in my high school was that I felt that people were too narrow minded and old fashioned, and hated any individualism. But, being  such a complicated mess, I actually am very traditionally minded and narrow minded myself. I guess I just didn't like people who didn't like me. You may call me hypocrite.

That is exactly why I don't like sluts. Some people would tell me,

"Hey, sluts are great! They are real individuals!"

and I must say,

"Nah, they ain't."

I do not intend to discuss why I think sluts are bad. I just say that if someone wants to be one, that's fine by me, but I don't want to know that person. I even go to the extent of avoiding them, and their friends just because they seem to be in the idea of approving it together.

I just don't like the idea of not having respect for other people's love lives just because they think so casual of sex, even if they don't have that much sex. I don't like people who cheats, or help them cheat. I don't like them immensely if they are promiscuous.

OK, when I say promiscuous, I mean, people who intentionally have casual sex, and normally don't keep track of it.

I don't get people who are real nice about people who do horrible things to the others through relationships. Like, I don't like people who say,

"Yeah, he is a real jerk with girls, he has at least 3 girl friends who don't know about each other, but he is really a nice guy and I like him."

and

"She is seeing a married guy, but she is a lovely girl. Can't help it, she fell in love."

and so on. What is wrong is wrong, and I must verbalise it.

Well, may be it's not just about people having loads of sex. I guess I just don't like people who says everyone he/she meets is nice, until something goes wrong, and something always goes wrong. I mean, aren't you even a little bit ashamed that you always go,

"Oh, you are soooo niiice, I like uuuu Muwah, muhah."

and, 2 days later scream,

"Oh, my god! That bitch slept with me boyfriend!!!!"

or

"He stole my mobile, can you believe it???"

Yeah, I can. I mean, you knew that guy for 5 min before you invited him into your house for a bit of a joint and wine.

Being a pessimistic nerd, I don't jump to the conclusions that everyone I met today was nice, and everyone I met a year ago turned out to be dodgy. Everyone is who he/she is and I can't possibly decide on the description for a long time. Sure, I do snap judgement, but I don't act on it, and will continue to learn about the person. People don't get people, people never get me, and just because someone says,

"You are nice"

that doesn't mean they get you, not possible, that's naive.

Tonsillitis and 6550 Chicks

I got tonsillitis about 3 weeks ago. I have been injured and not healthy for months, and the final hit was this. I never felt so close to death before then. I had temperature close to 40, and I was totally alone for days. I knew that I was going to die and wouldn't be discovered (or I felt so sure about it, like you would with that temperature) for days, so I kept calling all people I could think of, letting them know that I was dying.

Anyway, my fever didn't go away for over a week, and I changed antibiotics once, and took all kinds of pain killers just to keep me from shivering.

Even though my temperature didn't go down to my normal point, I had to start my new job eventually. I couldn't, and wouldn't risk my first ever proper job.

Ohh, god, it was just awful. I showed up in crutches, with thermometer in my bag of pills, all doped up and dizzing. In that condition, I had to do pretty much everything including taking calls from all over Europe. (Uhhh, couldn't take French accent that day, just had no idea what the hell they were saying...)

Anyway, I went on. I love the new job, and there are so much to learn, and I am brand-spanking-new there so everyone keeps coming up to me, like, from all over the world, and talks to me.

My boss took me to a short tour of palletting area in our warehouse, and also took me around the BA loading area etc.

I've already said a wrong company name when answering phone, and was yelled at by angry Dutch men (not one).

A couple of days ago, I was making special notes on our flights, and came across the line.

"1 x pallet Live Day Old Chicks."

First, I thought it was a metaphor. I don't know...like, some sort of a product name, or something. I mean, 1 pallet full of 1 day old chicks? That would be like a ton of flipping yellow fluffs. Can you imagine? And why 1 day old? Why not 1 week old? And why are they flying all the way round to the other side of the earth? Wouldn't they die via that sort of travelling?

First, I asked my boss if they are really chicks. Then I asked if they are alive, (Of course, he says, and tapped the code "AVI" as I should have recognized that already.) and I said if they are really 1 day old.

They are really pallet full of 1 day old chicks!! And apparently they travel quite well.

And my sweet boss actually took me to see them today. (It was obviously for my benefit, so I could learn more details of our business, like how the whole order would go through.)

There were like 6500 plus chicks in SO many boxes, all yapping and fluffy. They had this weird baby heat woozing around them which you could feel only with your skin when you stand near by them, but not with your palm skin when you are trying to poke them. They were just amazing.

I could stay there forever, but they were obviously being packed up in a hurry and I had to leave.

I don't know. Maybe I am a simple person. I loved recovering from bloody tonsillitis and getting to a new job, and I loved walking around the freighters, and I so loved them chicks. I think my life is wonderful.

Taking That Turn

I got a call from the job agency, asking me if I was interested in logistics. Logistics is one thing I had an eye on, and saw it as the sour grape. That field is so specialized and only hires the people with experience. It looks so exciting to me, that field, because companies and business are connected throughout the world. Imagine chatting to your mates,

 

"Today I closed the deal with Copenhagen, Prague and Brussels. Belgians were real nice and asked me to join them at their famous beer restaurant next time I am in town."

 

Sounds fab to me, not in a smug way, but in a way that I will never get bored because nothing is the same each day, ever.

 

The job I was introduced to was not quite a closing deal kind of job, and it was much more unique that they had to spend 10 min explaining to me so I can get a rough idea. It indeed sounded too specific and I couldn't even imagine how my CV was picked as of a potential candidate.

 

"Would you be interested? Shall we forward your CV to them?"

"Um, yeah! Please do. It sounds interesting."

 

As I said so all I was thinking was that I will never stand a chance and I won't hear back from them with an update.

 

But the agency called back a day later. So off I went to an interview, thinking that I will never get it.

 

The reason I thought so was actually sensible. Aside from the fact I had no experience in that area, I was in fact rejected by a company for a similar role before. Two companies are standing facing to each other across two bypasses, amongst all other logistics / freight companies' offices. As my Herald slipped through the bypass my mind wondered off, thinking,

 

"How many companies will I be lucky enough to have interviews with, and then get rejected..."

 

The interview itself was scary enough. All the managers and the CEO were in a small room, facing to me, each of them flipping through my CV, asking various question, which was not so related to my skills. I sat on a couch, with that casty thing on my leg with crutches besides me, smiling and looking REALLY confident, REALLY x2 calm and REALLY interested.

 

For some reason, they looked REALLY impressed with me. All four of them. Weird, huh? What is more weird was that I wasn't really lying in the interview to impress them. Oh, I felt good about that. That is not what supposed to happen. It must be fake...

 

Next day, the agency calls me back, telling me that my impression was spot on, and that they DID like me.

 

"They got very good impression on you. It is good."

 

Wow. I was holding my phone tight, waiting for her to say,

 

"They picked you, congratulation!"

 

but instead she says,

 

"So, they would like to see you for the second interview."

 

...........WHAT????

 

"There is a SECOND interview??"

"Yes, they would like to ask you more in-depth questions."

"O, I, C."

 

I felt dizzy. How far am I have to trek, will I survive that?

 

I finally got to ask her if that is a good sign, or I am possibly still very likely to be rejected. I asked her if anyone got to that stage and rejected.

 

"No, no one else got a second interview. I think it IS good."

 

So, I waited for them to call me up for the second interview, which happened this morning.

 

"Could you make it there this evening?"

 

I was there 5 hrs later, and they were showing me how to use their system, and how I feel about the whole process etc.

It was very fascinating. It was world-wide. It was ever so changing.

 

And it was mine!! I was offered the job there and then!!!

 

Now I have a main job AND a part time bar job. I definitely took that turn and around.

 

Good luck to all of my friends who are still looking, especially Lee and Andy. I had a bit of luck, and you have the ability.

Food Hygiene

As known, am looking for a job. As know, I was a kitchen bitch, and in some way I still consider myself one. (O, Good Ol' Days... All Lies.) So, naturally I looked for a catering job as I peer into job sections on any media. The one I found, and I really x2 wanted, required for me to have a certificate of food hygiene. I don't quite know how important this certificate is, even now. It was never compulsory before in my kitchen bitch life, including that hell hole in Egham with capt. Dirk. I didn't know how to get it, or how expensive/cheap to get it.

Apparently, usually, you can have this in a day course organised by the council. You could also take a day-two days course with tech colleges, but this would cost a bit more. It cost around 70 quid and above. I apprehended that it is fairly easy to obtain the certificate, that is because the government is actually encouraging the food business people to have this, before eventually making it compulsory for them to hold one.

When looking at the job ad I found, I was a PERFECT candidate, and the job was PERFECT for me. It was close by, and pays SO well in a busy, yet, small premise. Marvellous.

So it was downs to the certificate. I needed one urgently. And, there was a day course offered 5 days before the application closing date!! Oh, am I lucky or what?

So off I went, sending the payment and the application for the course.

All was well, till I got a call telling me that the course is long filled up and I have to wait for another month. They kindly, automatically forwarded the payment into next available course fee, making it impossible for me to withdraw.

I still went ahead and applied for the job, with a nice long letter explaining why I haven't got the certificate yet. They never got back to me.

A month past, me almost forgetting about the course. It looked increasingly unnecessary for me to go through with it as I didn't find any more job ad asking for it. However, I couldn't quite decide not to take the course IN CASE the premise decided to call me back after a couple of weeks. Taking the course would be more than appreciated in that case.

On the other hand, there was a definite down side to it which was that I needed the money and that 70 quid would be hugely appreciated, by me.

So, after all consideration, I deliberately left it till the last minute and asked for a refund, using my knee as an excuse. If that goes well I get the money, if not I get some certificate might be useful; I didn't mind either way.

I didn't get the money back.

Today I had to drag myself in crutches and sat through the all day session (8.45-17.15) with restaurant owners and take-away shop owners etc. It was bizarre.

I was the only one who was unemployed. Everyone else was either employed, or employers. And none of them were paying for the course out of their pockets.

I got there after 2 hrs of sleeping (how am I supposed to have slept decent hrs before 3pm, I don't even get to sleep till 7am), pumped up in caffeine. I got there and there were more caffeine from complementary tea and coffee. My brain was delirious.

I half heard buzzing in my ears on and off, listening to stupid argument between the food police and the take-away shop owner, muttering,

"He just said that a second ago, you goit."

Caffeine tabs were duly consumed and gallons of liquid was drunk, and somehow I made it to the end of the session. Then we took the test.

"What does disinfectant do best?"

"What are the signs of insects infestation?"

"Why the food handlers should not wear jewelry?"

30, multiple question, need only 20.

I have not taken a single test ever since I passed the driving theory. That was 3 yrs ago. I always do well when half conscious. I hope I did, too, this time.

Viva! Cymraeg

I was at work, talking to this girl who works with me.
This girl went on, one time, asking if,
"Ciao"
was Egyptian for over 5 minutes, in front of an Italian customer. I repeated LOUD into her ear that it is indeed Italian, and that is why people say,
"Ciao bella!"
and so on, just to shut her up. (Perhaps not the best way to describe the authenticity, but somewhat the phrase was stuck in my brain as "the standard phrase used by English speakers.")
Anyway, today she was asking me what languages I learned before, so I told her I tried to learn Welsh. I omitted Esperanto from the answer, as I was pretty sure she doesn't know what that is.
"Yeah, it's really hard to learn Welsh. I wasn't clever enough."
"Oh? What are you talking about, Welsh is REALLY easy. Even I can learn that."
She was DEAD serious. I couldn't dare ask her if she was anyway, as this might insult her ability of learning a language.
"Yeah? So you learnt it then?"
As I was asking her so my mind was amused with random thoughts;

Oh, in the middle of Berkshire, in the middle of NO WHERE, people are learning Welsh, for the reason I can't even begin to imagine. Viva! Cymraeg. Indeed Welsh is one of the fastest growing languages in the world...

"Yeah! It's same spelling and alphabet, with just like..."
and she just did this REALLY bad Welsh accent.
My mind, face, and pain in my knee all went BLANK.
"Wh...what the f...., um, NO, no, that's not Welsh. Welsh is completely different language came from Gaelic, and it really is hard language to learn, but is essntial in some part of Wales if you want to get a job."
I went on for a bit, explaining more on Welsh, but I don't think she was quite buying it. She was looking at me like this whole thing was totally alien idea and unnecessary.

I do come across some naive youngsters who are about to go into college education, OR already in early stage of it. I just NEVER met an English girl who didn't know what us Welsh stand for. I say it again,

Viva! Cymraeg!

Daraness's Own Double-Entry : Part2

Back to job hunting... It is going shite. But I think it was only expected, and in that respect it really is going not bad. I have applied for so many jobs, and had bunch of interviews (which is like passing the preliminary in beauty pageant, or similar. So you know you are not a total disaster in the area.)

One time, I was asked how I would feel about sales.

"Do you feel comfortable selling our products, even if that means you are taking the last penny out of the customer's pocket?"

What the hell am I supposed to say?

"Um, yeah, sure, of course. Well, unless that person was dying or something..."

I only applied for the job because I wanted the staff discount. Lately, photo supply was out of reach for me, and I am in desperate need for cheap films and cheap processing. Well, turned out, they don't do any negs, as I half expected, so in the end I was so wishing that I don't get the job. I haven't heard back from them.

The other time, I had to drive into London, for the first time ever. It felt like I was stuck in a magic round-about for hours, though I was only there for less than hour. I never saw people switching lanes SO MUCH in traffic jams. I never been honked SO MUCH, and I have never wanted for my horn to work SO MUCH before. It was not how long it took, but I just don't think I can cope with that EVERY darn day. When I got home, I was so wishing for them to call me up and politely insult me;

"Well, we were very impressed with your PC skills.... BUT," (that sort of bollocks)

After these, I started to rethink, I mean really rethink, what I want to do for living.

Do I really want to wear suites every day and drive 2 hrs to work in a small office full of small people who call their customer "GOD"?

Do I really want to work in call centres only to hear people shouting at me through the hand set, and drag myself to home, only to return to second job because I need that extra money?

I really don't know. In a way I do. I apply for jobs with worst senario bare in my mind. I always think about getting ulcers when I imagine working for these companies. I always think about nasty comments on my weight and looks from co-workers or managers. I always think about having eating disorders and sleeping problems as a result of working for these places. And I apply for them. I think I am thinking things through.

But these things I think are what I can bear, not what I want to go through.

I am all so pessimistic all the time, I never think of what I want. I never thought about who I want to date, or which T-Shirt I want to wear. It was always, "He wants to date me, would I be OK with it?" and "That shirt is bloody cheap, do I look OK in it?"

Then I met my crush, and I felt like,

"My life is taking a turn."

just because I actually wanted to date him while he wanted to date me, too. It was a bloody miracle.

Maybe I should apply that turn onto my job situation. But then, I don't know if anyone else does that?  

Daraness's Own Double-Entry : Part1

I have been extremely busy with job hunting. I actually had more than a few call backs, and have been going around all over the places for interviews and second interviews etc. It is going well, and it would be even better if I actually get one of these jobs.

 

Recently, the whole interview things are getting tougher, as I did my knee in about 10 days ago. I put my pic up so my distant friends can see it (and get amused.) What happened was, really, I was going to go (sorry if anyone was snacking), and taking the sitting down position, and next second I was falling from face down. I was in so much pain and my mates had to call an ambulance. But I was graceful enough to pull my jeans up so mates didn't have to see my half naked butts and stuff.

 

It was too painful to move after pulling jeans back on, so I couldn't see how my left knee was bent, but, according to my friends it was completely dislocated and flipped into some impossible direction.

 

Now I am wearing this cyborg paddy things and walking around with crutches. I should NOT be driving, and I couldn't anyway for a while, but now I really have to and I am. This is the first time I am doing something my doctor told me not to. (Even smoking was said to be OK by my doctor, since I smoke so little.)

 

My mum thinks that my life has been tainted with bad luck, having blocked toilet and dislocated knee and all that, but, look at the world, there are tons of people having bad times. I just think that everyone is having a bit of bad luck (I don't think there is anyone totally happy and great at this precise moment; am NOT being a drama queen and self-centred.)