Over the last couple of years - while I've had a bit more spare time on my hands - I've noticed something odd. Every so often, on a whim, I decide to take a shopping trip. Whether I'm after something specific, or just hoping to find something new in the toy aisles, the results of the journey can be accurately predicted by the troubles I encounter along the way.
For example, if the journey is beset by traffic jams, signal failures or, in particular, bad weather, chances are I'm not going to find what I'm looking for.
It's just coincidence, obviously, but it really does happen every time. One particular route (or set of routes) I take fairly regularly is the one that gets me to Brent Cross Toys'R'Us and/or from there to the Friern Bridge branch of Smyths. On that route, there have been occasions where the journey was an absolute dream, and there have been occasions when there are freak traffic problems (OK, I'm talking about the North Circular here, so freakish traffic is pretty much par for the course... what I mean is more freakish than normal), and occasions where a perfectly pleasant, sunny day suddenly turns and becomes progressively stormier as I go. Thing is, by the time it starts getting bad, I'm pretty much committed to the journey, so part of me is basically just accepting it as punishment for my poor decision-making.
Making it all the weirder, it is often the case that whatever problems there are on the way out, things improve either on the way back home, or when I switch to a more productive destination.
Take today, for example - the weekend became stormy, this morning was pretty crummy, and it wasn't looking much better when I left work (early - only a half day today!). Nevertheless, since I'd received the Smyths catalogue on Saturday, and since it looked as though there might be new stuff on the shelves, I decided to pay them a visit. While I was on the train in the afternoon, the weather seemed to improve... as far as Brent Cross. From then on, the wind rose and the clouds started returning. Lo, and behold, they had precisely nothing new (that I was interested in). Unperturbed, I walked down to the nearby Tesco... the wind was still high, but the sun was coming out again... and I found one of the things I was looking for.
On the way back home, I stopped off at Brent Cross TRU because I'd recently received a book of their vouchers. Wouldn't you know it, they had even more new stuff (strangely located only at the front of the shop - the regular shelves at the back featured the same - months old - stock). Technically, I didn't spend much more money that needed - only one extra bus fare because of the stop-off on the way home - but I could have saved myself time and strife in the journey... though I wouldn't have got everything I ended up with today.
Swings and roundabouts...
Monday 24 September 2012
Sunday 23 September 2012
Dredd Tidings
I'm actually a little surprised that I forgot all about this last weekend: I went to see Dredd 3D, a new film based around the main player from zarjaz Brit-comic 2000AD, Judge Dredd.
What reminded me to correct this failure was that the 1995 Stallone movie (very) loosely based on the same character just happened to be on TV tonight. I believe I saw it on video (or possibly on TV)... at least, I'm fairly certain I didn't see that abomination on the big screen... either way, I've seen it once before and, aside from refreshing my memory for the sake of comparison, there really was no reason to watch it again.
Which is to say, there was no reason at all to watch it again, because there's no comparison.
The '95 movie was a waste of celluloid on many levels, not least that Stallone - either through personal ego or studio interference - only wore the helmet for about 20 minutes of the film, while the whole point of the character was that he was a faceless instrument of extreme law. In many ways, it was typical of action flicks, and particularly superhero/comic book flicks around that time, in that it missed the point of the source material and presented itself as a big blockbuster. There were interesting elements - such as Judge Rico, a man even more extreme in his interpretation of the law that Dredd, who turns his back on any concept of justice and then decides to create an army of clones to replace the Judges - but, by and large, the story bore little or no relation to the comics. It appeared to be a 'scene-setting' movie, intended to launch a franchise... but no follow-ups were ever made.
Probably a good thing... if only because it meant Dredd 3D didn't have to work as hard to cast off any lingering memories of that original travesty.
The new movie - starring Karl Urban, who keeps his helmet on all the way through (aside from the very beginning, when you see his silhouette putting the helmet on) - has apparently suffered by comparison to an Indonesian film from last year, called The Raid. Not having seen that film, I took Dredd 3D on its own merits... and kinda liked it, with reservations.
I hadn't realised beforehand that it had been classified as Cert-18 in the UK - partly, I guess, because I just couldn't believe that anyone would make a proper, grown-up film based on a comic, particularly in the light of the poor reception of the 'grown-up' version of Marvel's The Punisher. What I walked into was a bloodbath worthy of a horror movie. Strangely, even the Slo-Mo sequences, where the violence was rendered in intricate detail, weren't especially disturbing because they weren't particularly believable. Movie violence is fake - everyone knows that - but it works because it's done as sleight-of-hand. Slow it down, and all you see is obvious CGI trickery.
On the flipside, the sequences featuring trainee Judge Anderson 'interrogating' a suspect went a lot further and got a lot nastier than I'd expected. I can't say it was a pleasant surprise, even in the context, but it was impressive, and a very bold bit of movie-making.
There wasn't a whole lot of plot to it, but the idea behind the movie was to reintroduce Dredd and Megacity One through the eyes of a young rookie, following Dredd on a 'normal day'. This rookie just happens to be the mutant long-time fans of 2000AD will know as Psi-Judge Cassandra Anderson. Considering the way Anderson is portrayed in the comics, I wasn't too sure about Olivia Thirlby (she's not exactly a blonde bombshell) but, having seen the film now, I think she was a brilliant choice. Having her as the emotional core of the film, and following her arc rather than Dredd's, was another brilliant choice.
Also, where the '95 movie featured a pointless comedy sidekick (OK, he was intended to facilitate Dredd's 'emotional journey' through the film - a joke in itself), Dredd 3D is largely dark and humourless, though not entirely without comic relief - it's just minimal and better placed.
As a starting point, Dredd 3D was excellent, but it does suffer the malady of virtually every 'first chapter' movie - it doesn't really go anywhere. Let's just hope this one does turn into a franchise, because this interpretation of Dredd and his world is very deserving of further exploration.
What reminded me to correct this failure was that the 1995 Stallone movie (very) loosely based on the same character just happened to be on TV tonight. I believe I saw it on video (or possibly on TV)... at least, I'm fairly certain I didn't see that abomination on the big screen... either way, I've seen it once before and, aside from refreshing my memory for the sake of comparison, there really was no reason to watch it again.
Which is to say, there was no reason at all to watch it again, because there's no comparison.
The '95 movie was a waste of celluloid on many levels, not least that Stallone - either through personal ego or studio interference - only wore the helmet for about 20 minutes of the film, while the whole point of the character was that he was a faceless instrument of extreme law. In many ways, it was typical of action flicks, and particularly superhero/comic book flicks around that time, in that it missed the point of the source material and presented itself as a big blockbuster. There were interesting elements - such as Judge Rico, a man even more extreme in his interpretation of the law that Dredd, who turns his back on any concept of justice and then decides to create an army of clones to replace the Judges - but, by and large, the story bore little or no relation to the comics. It appeared to be a 'scene-setting' movie, intended to launch a franchise... but no follow-ups were ever made.
Probably a good thing... if only because it meant Dredd 3D didn't have to work as hard to cast off any lingering memories of that original travesty.
The new movie - starring Karl Urban, who keeps his helmet on all the way through (aside from the very beginning, when you see his silhouette putting the helmet on) - has apparently suffered by comparison to an Indonesian film from last year, called The Raid. Not having seen that film, I took Dredd 3D on its own merits... and kinda liked it, with reservations.
I hadn't realised beforehand that it had been classified as Cert-18 in the UK - partly, I guess, because I just couldn't believe that anyone would make a proper, grown-up film based on a comic, particularly in the light of the poor reception of the 'grown-up' version of Marvel's The Punisher. What I walked into was a bloodbath worthy of a horror movie. Strangely, even the Slo-Mo sequences, where the violence was rendered in intricate detail, weren't especially disturbing because they weren't particularly believable. Movie violence is fake - everyone knows that - but it works because it's done as sleight-of-hand. Slow it down, and all you see is obvious CGI trickery.
On the flipside, the sequences featuring trainee Judge Anderson 'interrogating' a suspect went a lot further and got a lot nastier than I'd expected. I can't say it was a pleasant surprise, even in the context, but it was impressive, and a very bold bit of movie-making.
There wasn't a whole lot of plot to it, but the idea behind the movie was to reintroduce Dredd and Megacity One through the eyes of a young rookie, following Dredd on a 'normal day'. This rookie just happens to be the mutant long-time fans of 2000AD will know as Psi-Judge Cassandra Anderson. Considering the way Anderson is portrayed in the comics, I wasn't too sure about Olivia Thirlby (she's not exactly a blonde bombshell) but, having seen the film now, I think she was a brilliant choice. Having her as the emotional core of the film, and following her arc rather than Dredd's, was another brilliant choice.
Also, where the '95 movie featured a pointless comedy sidekick (OK, he was intended to facilitate Dredd's 'emotional journey' through the film - a joke in itself), Dredd 3D is largely dark and humourless, though not entirely without comic relief - it's just minimal and better placed.
As a starting point, Dredd 3D was excellent, but it does suffer the malady of virtually every 'first chapter' movie - it doesn't really go anywhere. Let's just hope this one does turn into a franchise, because this interpretation of Dredd and his world is very deserving of further exploration.
Continuing 'Gainful' Employment
It is at once heartening and frustrating that I worked yet another full week (at two different jobs) last week. Heartening because, hey, validation: I'm a workaholic (according to my GP), and going into an office for a day of work proves (to me) that I am a worthwhile person. Being praised for that work reinforces that proof, and being called back repeatedly pretty much cements it.
Settling in to two jobs is proving tricky but, let's face it, I've only been trying for two weeks. Surely it's to be expected that I'd wake up on Thursday unsure as to which job I'd be heading to, then wake up on Friday convinced it was Saturday (switched my alarm off at about 5.30am, but thankfully realised my mistake and switched it back on again before drifting back to sleep) only to go to bed convinced it was only Thursday, and that I'd have to wake up for work the next morning.
I am actually going back to regular job number two on Monday, though. Pretty sure that'll be the last day for a while, but who can tell..? I'm starting to think they're calling me back just for my reassuring presence.
Yes, I really just said that.
Not sure I believe it, though...
...Even though I have had emails from one of my part-time-colleagues saying how much they miss me on the two days I'm not available, or the day after they (reluctantly) admit that there's not really enough work to make my presence worthwhile for the time being.
Last week was also notable in that I was providing holiday cover for the person I'd normally be working with... So I was all alone, working on a table of mostly Salespeople... finishing off projects (a) on a ridiculously tight time-scale because people naturally only get their shit together at the last minute and (b) which had be started by this other person. Point 'a' is simple enough - just a case of assigning priorities (or having priorities assigned) and approaching the work logically. Point 'b' is frustrating to me because other people - even in the same line of work as me, with a similar approach to the work, and a similar work ethic - don't tend to do things the way I'd do them and, consequently, I waste far too much time getting my head around the way a template has been designed before actually getting to work on the document.
Combine point 'a' and point 'b', and things get a little more complicated. Then factor in that some of the Salespeople want 'design input', and even this new, laid-back me is itching to give someone a slap.
I've probably written at length about the creative pretensions of some of the Salespeople I've worked with over the years, so it honestly came as no surprise... All that really happened, last week, is that I was thrown into it without my usual buffer, sitting between me and the Salespeople. And here's how that went...
Day 1: Started work on the most logical 'first job' - one of the two most urgent tasks, and the only one of the two for which I had all the necessary materials. Salesperson for 'the other most urgent task' sees this, as starts complaining bitterly that I should be working on her stuff. She asks when I want the text for her document, and whether she should feed it to me piecemeal. I express a preference for the whole thing in one hit (that tends to make it easier to actually complete the task in one sitting). "That'll take about an hour," says she, as if that should present a problem. I shrug my acceptance. Further complaining occurs later, as she insists that I'm there on this day because she's paying for my presence out of her budget, and that her colleague (on the project I'd begun the day with) had only booked me for the second day. This is factually inaccurate: I was booked for both days on Monday, and the necessity for my presence was only discussed with the other Salesperson, not the one who was complaining. Text for her second document materialised mid-to-late afternoon. Heated debate with this most vocal Salesperson over the 'design' of one of her documents because she changes her mind about what she wants every time I present proofs to be checked. She says things like "I want it to look designed", but cheerfully admits that she can't be bothered to explain what that means. Helpfully gives examples of how she wants it to look like... a different example in response to every batch of proofs. Several projects were completed, including the most pressing document for the whinge-bag.
Day 2: Again, started working on the most logical 'first job' - specifically the tail end of the last thing I'd got to on Day 1. Whinge-bag still trying to dominate my time, but no longer discussing who's paying for my time. Major clash for time between her third(!) document and her colleague's second despite spending most of the day on her stuff and fitting in bits and bobs of her colleagues in the lulls (and over lunch). Amendments palmed off on another salesperson because her time was far too precious. Later reconsidered, much to my frustration. She speaks in terms of implied reverence for Design/Designers, yet in a tone of absolute contempt... And only at the very end of the day does she notice an important aspect of the base template - which has informed much of the layout thusfar: the artwork is offset from the centre of the page, and has wider borders at the top/left than it does bottom/right. Insists that she wants it centred, despite the fact that the base template - designed by the woman I'm covering - must have been approved at least two days ago. At about 5.30, I start to adjust the template and refit the document accordingly. At precisely 5.35, she asks if it's ready yet... and I'm forced to point out that I'm basically having to re-do the layout of every page. Meanwhile, her less obnoxious colleague is insisting that some progress be made on her next most important task. I've done some, I show that to her and make some minor adjustments on the fly, agreeing to do most of the actual 'design' - the fitting and styling - on Monday. Finalise the mouthy one's third document, and prepare print versions and email versions. Email them to three relevant people around the table, then have to explain what the difference is, despite adding explanatory suffixes to the filenames ('_print.pdf' and '_email.pdf' are not self-explanatory enough? The difference in filesize (approx 700k versus about 6Mb) doesn't offer a clue?).
My favourite part of these two days was when Ms. Precious, while complaining about the look of one of her projects, said "I know you're not a designer, but... You're not a designer, are you?"... to the guy who has, thusfar, designed reports, show guides, badges and advertisements for this company.
I know, I pretty much ask for that kind of thing to happen by steadfastly denying that I'm a designer...
I don't sell myself as a designer because that's not my skill-set. For most of my working life, I've been fixing the mistakes designers make... This has enabled me to work as a designer and, to some extent/in some respects, better than many people who do sell themselves as designers.
Ever the diplomat, I sneered slightly, and said "I've doubled as a designer..."
It only gets worse when I spend time on the job as it was specified to me, point out a lack of text for certain sections, and only then learn that those sections are being dropped because the whinge-bag "got bored typing, couldn't be bothered finishing it off, and so decided not to offer those this year."
Classy, huh?
Had a friend over today, to show off some of the big Wii games from the last year or so. He was most interested in seeing Pandora's Tower and Project Zero 2, but I did manage to squeeze in some of The Last Story as well. He'd actually traded in his own Wii for a Kindle, reminding me how weird I am for never trading in or otherwise disposing of my old hardware. Aside from my Wii and PC, I have a Sega Saturn and Sam Coupé (which are still occasionally used), an Atari Jaguar, an Amiga, and miscellaneous other bits and bobs that are hidden away. He also brought his Nintendo 3DS, and showed off Kid Icarus, which plays kind of like a souped-up Space Harrier (or Sin & Punishment)... The 3D effect works particularly well in the flight sections, but it does get tiring for the eyes. Didn't actually get a great deal of game-playing done because I was rabbiting for the first hour or so of his visit, and showing off some of the documents I've designed and laid out in their final printed form... all of which look pretty darned good...
And then, to round off this post, a brief mention of this week's Doctor Who... possibly the most satisfying of this group of five 'movie-style' episodes (so far), even though it very much left me wanting more - all these odd little details that were glossed over, and it felt as though this was the first proper lead-in to what might happen later in the series. Quite intriguing stuff... and certainly the most truly movie-like of the episodes so far. Last week's was good... but still didn't quite live up to the 'movie-like' hype the BBC have been spinning about this group.
Settling in to two jobs is proving tricky but, let's face it, I've only been trying for two weeks. Surely it's to be expected that I'd wake up on Thursday unsure as to which job I'd be heading to, then wake up on Friday convinced it was Saturday (switched my alarm off at about 5.30am, but thankfully realised my mistake and switched it back on again before drifting back to sleep) only to go to bed convinced it was only Thursday, and that I'd have to wake up for work the next morning.
I am actually going back to regular job number two on Monday, though. Pretty sure that'll be the last day for a while, but who can tell..? I'm starting to think they're calling me back just for my reassuring presence.
Yes, I really just said that.
Not sure I believe it, though...
...Even though I have had emails from one of my part-time-colleagues saying how much they miss me on the two days I'm not available, or the day after they (reluctantly) admit that there's not really enough work to make my presence worthwhile for the time being.
Last week was also notable in that I was providing holiday cover for the person I'd normally be working with... So I was all alone, working on a table of mostly Salespeople... finishing off projects (a) on a ridiculously tight time-scale because people naturally only get their shit together at the last minute and (b) which had be started by this other person. Point 'a' is simple enough - just a case of assigning priorities (or having priorities assigned) and approaching the work logically. Point 'b' is frustrating to me because other people - even in the same line of work as me, with a similar approach to the work, and a similar work ethic - don't tend to do things the way I'd do them and, consequently, I waste far too much time getting my head around the way a template has been designed before actually getting to work on the document.
Combine point 'a' and point 'b', and things get a little more complicated. Then factor in that some of the Salespeople want 'design input', and even this new, laid-back me is itching to give someone a slap.
I've probably written at length about the creative pretensions of some of the Salespeople I've worked with over the years, so it honestly came as no surprise... All that really happened, last week, is that I was thrown into it without my usual buffer, sitting between me and the Salespeople. And here's how that went...
Day 1: Started work on the most logical 'first job' - one of the two most urgent tasks, and the only one of the two for which I had all the necessary materials. Salesperson for 'the other most urgent task' sees this, as starts complaining bitterly that I should be working on her stuff. She asks when I want the text for her document, and whether she should feed it to me piecemeal. I express a preference for the whole thing in one hit (that tends to make it easier to actually complete the task in one sitting). "That'll take about an hour," says she, as if that should present a problem. I shrug my acceptance. Further complaining occurs later, as she insists that I'm there on this day because she's paying for my presence out of her budget, and that her colleague (on the project I'd begun the day with) had only booked me for the second day. This is factually inaccurate: I was booked for both days on Monday, and the necessity for my presence was only discussed with the other Salesperson, not the one who was complaining. Text for her second document materialised mid-to-late afternoon. Heated debate with this most vocal Salesperson over the 'design' of one of her documents because she changes her mind about what she wants every time I present proofs to be checked. She says things like "I want it to look designed", but cheerfully admits that she can't be bothered to explain what that means. Helpfully gives examples of how she wants it to look like... a different example in response to every batch of proofs. Several projects were completed, including the most pressing document for the whinge-bag.
Day 2: Again, started working on the most logical 'first job' - specifically the tail end of the last thing I'd got to on Day 1. Whinge-bag still trying to dominate my time, but no longer discussing who's paying for my time. Major clash for time between her third(!) document and her colleague's second despite spending most of the day on her stuff and fitting in bits and bobs of her colleagues in the lulls (and over lunch). Amendments palmed off on another salesperson because her time was far too precious. Later reconsidered, much to my frustration. She speaks in terms of implied reverence for Design/Designers, yet in a tone of absolute contempt... And only at the very end of the day does she notice an important aspect of the base template - which has informed much of the layout thusfar: the artwork is offset from the centre of the page, and has wider borders at the top/left than it does bottom/right. Insists that she wants it centred, despite the fact that the base template - designed by the woman I'm covering - must have been approved at least two days ago. At about 5.30, I start to adjust the template and refit the document accordingly. At precisely 5.35, she asks if it's ready yet... and I'm forced to point out that I'm basically having to re-do the layout of every page. Meanwhile, her less obnoxious colleague is insisting that some progress be made on her next most important task. I've done some, I show that to her and make some minor adjustments on the fly, agreeing to do most of the actual 'design' - the fitting and styling - on Monday. Finalise the mouthy one's third document, and prepare print versions and email versions. Email them to three relevant people around the table, then have to explain what the difference is, despite adding explanatory suffixes to the filenames ('_print.pdf' and '_email.pdf' are not self-explanatory enough? The difference in filesize (approx 700k versus about 6Mb) doesn't offer a clue?).
My favourite part of these two days was when Ms. Precious, while complaining about the look of one of her projects, said "I know you're not a designer, but... You're not a designer, are you?"... to the guy who has, thusfar, designed reports, show guides, badges and advertisements for this company.
I know, I pretty much ask for that kind of thing to happen by steadfastly denying that I'm a designer...
I don't sell myself as a designer because that's not my skill-set. For most of my working life, I've been fixing the mistakes designers make... This has enabled me to work as a designer and, to some extent/in some respects, better than many people who do sell themselves as designers.
Ever the diplomat, I sneered slightly, and said "I've doubled as a designer..."
It only gets worse when I spend time on the job as it was specified to me, point out a lack of text for certain sections, and only then learn that those sections are being dropped because the whinge-bag "got bored typing, couldn't be bothered finishing it off, and so decided not to offer those this year."
Classy, huh?
Had a friend over today, to show off some of the big Wii games from the last year or so. He was most interested in seeing Pandora's Tower and Project Zero 2, but I did manage to squeeze in some of The Last Story as well. He'd actually traded in his own Wii for a Kindle, reminding me how weird I am for never trading in or otherwise disposing of my old hardware. Aside from my Wii and PC, I have a Sega Saturn and Sam Coupé (which are still occasionally used), an Atari Jaguar, an Amiga, and miscellaneous other bits and bobs that are hidden away. He also brought his Nintendo 3DS, and showed off Kid Icarus, which plays kind of like a souped-up Space Harrier (or Sin & Punishment)... The 3D effect works particularly well in the flight sections, but it does get tiring for the eyes. Didn't actually get a great deal of game-playing done because I was rabbiting for the first hour or so of his visit, and showing off some of the documents I've designed and laid out in their final printed form... all of which look pretty darned good...
And then, to round off this post, a brief mention of this week's Doctor Who... possibly the most satisfying of this group of five 'movie-style' episodes (so far), even though it very much left me wanting more - all these odd little details that were glossed over, and it felt as though this was the first proper lead-in to what might happen later in the series. Quite intriguing stuff... and certainly the most truly movie-like of the episodes so far. Last week's was good... but still didn't quite live up to the 'movie-like' hype the BBC have been spinning about this group.
Saturday 15 September 2012
Unintentionally Amusing
That last post was number six hundred and sixty six... a three-digit number containing only one unique number, with a three-word title containing only one unique word.
Sorry, these things amuse me.
Sorry, these things amuse me.
Busy, Busy, Busy
This year presents a stark contrast to 2011.
Last year, I was pretty much bone idle, wasted my free time, earned very little money, frittered away all my redundancy payout and then raided a good chunk of my savings.
This year, at least over the last few months, I've been kept pretty busy - a nine-month contract that got cut down to a couple of weeks, bumped up to a couple of months, then bumped up to a twelve-month contract before finally being cancelled entirely has led to several more short temping stints with the same company. Another company took me on for odd two- or three-day holiday cover placements, and has now booked me for two months at two days a week, with occasional longer bookings during their crunch-times leading up to Christmas. Just this last week, I worked a full week between both companies.
And it's hugely enjoyable, too... Not only is the work itself fun, but being in an office again, with such different people, is a massive improvement on my self-imposed hermit-like existence in my flat. It's good to be working on practical things, and it's nice to feel appreciated - and be thanked for my work, which is a stark contrast to my last full-time job - by teams of people who describe me as "a calming influence".
And, yes, some of these people are salespeople.
Strangely, though, I spend some of my evenings feeling bitter and hard-done-by because I actually have to wake up at a specific time the following morning, and actually go to work. The terrible hardship that is the (surprisingly efficient) Metropolitan Line, actually putting in a day's work at the mill... Some evenings, I actually seem to forget that, were I not working, I'd almost certainly be wasting my days and getting nothing of any consequence done, and then getting depressed and frustrated with myself because there's so much else I could be doing.
When morning comes, however (and once I've convinced myself to get the fuck out of bed), all my enthusiasm returns. Sometimes I find myself smiling to myself on the way into work, because I know that whatever the day may bring, it's going to be challenging and fun. Rather than looking at the clock and wondering where the last two hours went, I'll be thinking "hey, I managed to get that done in decent time... I wonder what I'm doing next..." and, come 5.30, I look back on the day and think "that was a good day."
I've been a bit disorganised lately... Failed to produce an invoice for my first 'week' at one job, and only handed over last week's invoice for the other yesterday. Neglected my food shopping last weekend, and so had to make do with shop-bought sarnies and things for a couple of days last week. I'm aiming to actually sort out next week's food shopping either today or tomorrow because, while I'm only certain of work for the first three days next week, there's a good chance I'll be called in to one of the companies for Thursday/Friday as well.
If all this work keeps up, I might actually venture to this winter's conventions... Though the London Expo is out because I'll be in Wales...
Last year, I was pretty much bone idle, wasted my free time, earned very little money, frittered away all my redundancy payout and then raided a good chunk of my savings.
This year, at least over the last few months, I've been kept pretty busy - a nine-month contract that got cut down to a couple of weeks, bumped up to a couple of months, then bumped up to a twelve-month contract before finally being cancelled entirely has led to several more short temping stints with the same company. Another company took me on for odd two- or three-day holiday cover placements, and has now booked me for two months at two days a week, with occasional longer bookings during their crunch-times leading up to Christmas. Just this last week, I worked a full week between both companies.
And it's hugely enjoyable, too... Not only is the work itself fun, but being in an office again, with such different people, is a massive improvement on my self-imposed hermit-like existence in my flat. It's good to be working on practical things, and it's nice to feel appreciated - and be thanked for my work, which is a stark contrast to my last full-time job - by teams of people who describe me as "a calming influence".
And, yes, some of these people are salespeople.
Strangely, though, I spend some of my evenings feeling bitter and hard-done-by because I actually have to wake up at a specific time the following morning, and actually go to work. The terrible hardship that is the (surprisingly efficient) Metropolitan Line, actually putting in a day's work at the mill... Some evenings, I actually seem to forget that, were I not working, I'd almost certainly be wasting my days and getting nothing of any consequence done, and then getting depressed and frustrated with myself because there's so much else I could be doing.
When morning comes, however (and once I've convinced myself to get the fuck out of bed), all my enthusiasm returns. Sometimes I find myself smiling to myself on the way into work, because I know that whatever the day may bring, it's going to be challenging and fun. Rather than looking at the clock and wondering where the last two hours went, I'll be thinking "hey, I managed to get that done in decent time... I wonder what I'm doing next..." and, come 5.30, I look back on the day and think "that was a good day."
I've been a bit disorganised lately... Failed to produce an invoice for my first 'week' at one job, and only handed over last week's invoice for the other yesterday. Neglected my food shopping last weekend, and so had to make do with shop-bought sarnies and things for a couple of days last week. I'm aiming to actually sort out next week's food shopping either today or tomorrow because, while I'm only certain of work for the first three days next week, there's a good chance I'll be called in to one of the companies for Thursday/Friday as well.
If all this work keeps up, I might actually venture to this winter's conventions... Though the London Expo is out because I'll be in Wales...
Sunday 2 September 2012
Triumphal Returns
And so, after completing one week with a company that I now consider to be 'my regular employer', I got called back for another couple of days at the end of last week.
It was an interesting occurrence for several reasons, not least that I got the call asking if I'd be available on the morning of a day when I was heading to that neck of the woods anyway, because I was buying a set of paintings from one of my former colleagues. I was almost tempted to mention that to the agency, in the sense of "I'll be there later anyway, would they like me to start today rather than tomorrow?" but I'm glad I didn't.
This former colleague and I met up in a little tea shop just down the road from the office. It's a strange little establishment, clearly trying very hard to be 'cool', but probably too small and awkward of space to comfortably accommodate the sort of crowds they surely long to attract. It's one of those places where people get together to have a private chat rather too loudly to believe it's truly intended to be private... One of those sitcom-type setups where trivial events are blown out of all proportion, and spoken of loudly enough that everyone in the 'audience' can hear, even though most of them probably do not wish to.
Actually, that's unfair - I'm only talking about the two women on the table next to me. Everyone else was speaking normally, or not speaking at all. I was particularly intrigued by the young woman on the next table, who sat down with a notebook, a scrap of paper (possibly a napkin) and two ink pens - one purple, one green. Had I not been there solely to meet my former colleague, catch up on the events of the three or four years since she left my team for bigger and better things, and hand over four hundred quid for a set of three of her awesome paintings, I probably would have spent a scary amount of time observing this other woman, in an attempt to ascertain the purpose of the two coloured pens.
Typically, my motor-mouth was running at nineteen to the dozen, jumping from subject to subject (and back again) with scarcely a thought for clarity and, if I'm any judge, this version of me - very different to what she'd remember - was quite bewildering to my former colleague... but she's a bright girl and managed to keep up, except when I slipped into weird slang. I should have remembered what a stumbling block that always was for her, but I guess exuberance got the better of me.
Hearing about her plans for returning home and setting up the foundations for focusing on her art in years to come was quite amazing. She was always very level-headed, never one to stew over things that were bothering her if talking about them would help, always adaptable... But she's a good few years younger than me, and her drive and focus put me to shame.
Still, she was very complimentary about my art, and I got a hug as a greeting and as a farewell. Three hours plus flew by in that tea shop, and I was very glad of the opportunity to catch up with her before she disappears off to another country for the next chapter in her life.
The next two days of office work were quite eye-opening, not least because I learned how to mail-merge in Adobe InDesign (Window>Utilities>Datamerge, then have your CSV file at the ready!), which would have been invaluable only last week, when I manually set up 77 certificates using the tried-and-tested 'cut and paste' method. Granted, doing it any other way would have required that I throw back the original data and ask for it to be resupplied (seriously, what is this fascination people have with originating lists as tables in Word?), but I did get to make a recommendation "for future reference" and then bask in the success of another hare-brained scheme.
Because, seriously, if 77 certificates are bad... how about 200+ name badges for a trade show? That's the kind of shit mail-merge is made for.
I also picked up four copies of the Report document I sent to press the previous week, and I have to say, without wishing to sound as though I'm blowing my own trumpet - which, of course, I am - it looked pretty fucking fantastic. It's weird but, looking at the finished, printed product, it almost doesn't feel like my work anymore. The final booklet looks like the kind of professional thing you'd expect to be made by professionals, not some back-room troubleshooter guy like me.
And it's so much better than last year's...
Those two days, more than anything before, reinforced the feeling I've had about that work placement, that the time between bookings is merely extended holiday in 'my job'. I feel completely comfortable there, and they clearly like having me - the moment my colleague announced she was pulling me back in, her already-stacked work inbox suddenly began to overflow with new tasks. Naturally, I was only to happy to attend to them, since just about everything I've done there has been an interesting challenge.
Of course, the 'triumphal return' (see what I did there?) I really wish to discuss is that of Doctor Who, for its seventh 'new' series. Where the writers of 'New Who' get it right, it's in dealing with small stories on a grand scale (as opposed to RTD-era, where there were too many huge stories that always seemed overly ambitious, and thereby horribly curtailed, for the 45-minute TV format... plus, they were all Doctor Fanwanky). 'Asylum of the Daleks' actually dealt with several small stories under the guise of something (potentially) huge. It wasn't about the Parliament of the Daleks turning to the Doctor to 'save' them (though, actually, I'm going to have to watch that episode again because I can't quite remember how that was supposed to work anyway), it was about what happened to Amy and Rory Pond (OK, Williams... but you know in your hearts that Rory is Mr. Pond for life) after they parted ways with The Doctor, and about the terrible things the Daleks have done, not only to other races, but to their own kind, too.
Some of it made for uncomfortable viewing... not just in the 'slightly squeamish' sense of Dalek eye-stalks bursting out of human skulls (though that struck me as odd, considering the Daleks are, technically, the biggest racists in the universe). The appearance of what were, in a way, zombie Daleks was rather disconcerting: the way they all seemed to be non-functional until suddenly they weren't, and the deep-rooted drive to 'exterminate' brought them, stuttering, back to life... And the gnawing feeling that Oswin wasn't all she appeared to be. It wasn't quite so epic and movie-like as it had been cracked up to be, but it was still better than a lot of television lately and, for genre television on the BBC, it was nothing short of brilliant.
But, there's the thing: Jenna-Louise Coleman was introduced to the world as 'the new companion' several months ago... and yet her appearance in 'Asylum of the Daleks' suggests we've been flannelled - yet again - by the Steven Moffat Misinformation Machine (note also his Tweet of 2.01pm yesterday)... So when he speaks of the impending demise of the Ponds, and says "I really mean it this time", I can't help but think of that teaser from an earlier series, where Amy and Rory see their future selves, revisiting the scene of one of their earlier adventures. I can't help but believe that the Ponds will escape with their lives.
But, let's face it, this is Steven Moffat. I'm probably wrong.
It was an interesting occurrence for several reasons, not least that I got the call asking if I'd be available on the morning of a day when I was heading to that neck of the woods anyway, because I was buying a set of paintings from one of my former colleagues. I was almost tempted to mention that to the agency, in the sense of "I'll be there later anyway, would they like me to start today rather than tomorrow?" but I'm glad I didn't.
This former colleague and I met up in a little tea shop just down the road from the office. It's a strange little establishment, clearly trying very hard to be 'cool', but probably too small and awkward of space to comfortably accommodate the sort of crowds they surely long to attract. It's one of those places where people get together to have a private chat rather too loudly to believe it's truly intended to be private... One of those sitcom-type setups where trivial events are blown out of all proportion, and spoken of loudly enough that everyone in the 'audience' can hear, even though most of them probably do not wish to.
Actually, that's unfair - I'm only talking about the two women on the table next to me. Everyone else was speaking normally, or not speaking at all. I was particularly intrigued by the young woman on the next table, who sat down with a notebook, a scrap of paper (possibly a napkin) and two ink pens - one purple, one green. Had I not been there solely to meet my former colleague, catch up on the events of the three or four years since she left my team for bigger and better things, and hand over four hundred quid for a set of three of her awesome paintings, I probably would have spent a scary amount of time observing this other woman, in an attempt to ascertain the purpose of the two coloured pens.
Typically, my motor-mouth was running at nineteen to the dozen, jumping from subject to subject (and back again) with scarcely a thought for clarity and, if I'm any judge, this version of me - very different to what she'd remember - was quite bewildering to my former colleague... but she's a bright girl and managed to keep up, except when I slipped into weird slang. I should have remembered what a stumbling block that always was for her, but I guess exuberance got the better of me.
Hearing about her plans for returning home and setting up the foundations for focusing on her art in years to come was quite amazing. She was always very level-headed, never one to stew over things that were bothering her if talking about them would help, always adaptable... But she's a good few years younger than me, and her drive and focus put me to shame.
Still, she was very complimentary about my art, and I got a hug as a greeting and as a farewell. Three hours plus flew by in that tea shop, and I was very glad of the opportunity to catch up with her before she disappears off to another country for the next chapter in her life.
The next two days of office work were quite eye-opening, not least because I learned how to mail-merge in Adobe InDesign (Window>Utilities>Datamerge, then have your CSV file at the ready!), which would have been invaluable only last week, when I manually set up 77 certificates using the tried-and-tested 'cut and paste' method. Granted, doing it any other way would have required that I throw back the original data and ask for it to be resupplied (seriously, what is this fascination people have with originating lists as tables in Word?), but I did get to make a recommendation "for future reference" and then bask in the success of another hare-brained scheme.
Because, seriously, if 77 certificates are bad... how about 200+ name badges for a trade show? That's the kind of shit mail-merge is made for.
I also picked up four copies of the Report document I sent to press the previous week, and I have to say, without wishing to sound as though I'm blowing my own trumpet - which, of course, I am - it looked pretty fucking fantastic. It's weird but, looking at the finished, printed product, it almost doesn't feel like my work anymore. The final booklet looks like the kind of professional thing you'd expect to be made by professionals, not some back-room troubleshooter guy like me.
And it's so much better than last year's...
Those two days, more than anything before, reinforced the feeling I've had about that work placement, that the time between bookings is merely extended holiday in 'my job'. I feel completely comfortable there, and they clearly like having me - the moment my colleague announced she was pulling me back in, her already-stacked work inbox suddenly began to overflow with new tasks. Naturally, I was only to happy to attend to them, since just about everything I've done there has been an interesting challenge.
Of course, the 'triumphal return' (see what I did there?) I really wish to discuss is that of Doctor Who, for its seventh 'new' series. Where the writers of 'New Who' get it right, it's in dealing with small stories on a grand scale (as opposed to RTD-era, where there were too many huge stories that always seemed overly ambitious, and thereby horribly curtailed, for the 45-minute TV format... plus, they were all Doctor Fanwanky). 'Asylum of the Daleks' actually dealt with several small stories under the guise of something (potentially) huge. It wasn't about the Parliament of the Daleks turning to the Doctor to 'save' them (though, actually, I'm going to have to watch that episode again because I can't quite remember how that was supposed to work anyway), it was about what happened to Amy and Rory Pond (OK, Williams... but you know in your hearts that Rory is Mr. Pond for life) after they parted ways with The Doctor, and about the terrible things the Daleks have done, not only to other races, but to their own kind, too.
Some of it made for uncomfortable viewing... not just in the 'slightly squeamish' sense of Dalek eye-stalks bursting out of human skulls (though that struck me as odd, considering the Daleks are, technically, the biggest racists in the universe). The appearance of what were, in a way, zombie Daleks was rather disconcerting: the way they all seemed to be non-functional until suddenly they weren't, and the deep-rooted drive to 'exterminate' brought them, stuttering, back to life... And the gnawing feeling that Oswin wasn't all she appeared to be. It wasn't quite so epic and movie-like as it had been cracked up to be, but it was still better than a lot of television lately and, for genre television on the BBC, it was nothing short of brilliant.
But, there's the thing: Jenna-Louise Coleman was introduced to the world as 'the new companion' several months ago... and yet her appearance in 'Asylum of the Daleks' suggests we've been flannelled - yet again - by the Steven Moffat Misinformation Machine (note also his Tweet of 2.01pm yesterday)... So when he speaks of the impending demise of the Ponds, and says "I really mean it this time", I can't help but think of that teaser from an earlier series, where Amy and Rory see their future selves, revisiting the scene of one of their earlier adventures. I can't help but believe that the Ponds will escape with their lives.
But, let's face it, this is Steven Moffat. I'm probably wrong.
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