tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59793207421055373862024-03-05T04:56:52.687+00:00Laura Colgan Knows NothingUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-3560199576686827402014-03-25T20:58:00.000+00:002014-03-25T21:01:44.189+00:00What a Difference a Week Makes!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'll cut to the chase...I'm employed!</div>
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Tuesday 18 Feb: Post blog post about unemployment on personal blog<br />
Thursday 20 Feb: Blog post put up on Broadsheet.ie<br />
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Tuesday 25 Feb: Job interview<br />
Wednesday 26 Feb: Get job<br />
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Monday 3 Mar: Start job<br />
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It happened just like that. Now before any of you get ideas thinking that I got the job through my blog post, you are wrong. I will admit though, there were leads. One complete stranger emailed me knowing that his father had a job going in graphic design. He had been in a similar situation and wanted to help a fellow creative person. Friends of friends of friends, some that I'd met, some that I hadn't, emailed me. One felt compelled to write to me and offered up his services if I needed help. Another felt that I was talking directly to her. I also got Tweets and Facebook comments. There were tons of comments on the <a href="http://Broadsheet.ie/">Broadsheet.ie</a> post as well.<br />
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I'll admit, reading the comments on Broadsheet.ie was extremely nerve-wracking. All those people out there judging me. Most comments were extremely helpful, encouraging, and informative, while others were disheartening, judgemental, and rude ('spoilt brat'). I sympathised with one particular person who encouraged me to not give up my creative job search. He did and is now extremely unhappy and feels like he's lost all creativity. All in all though, I was surprised and appreciative of all of the advice and time taken to write to me. The amount of people who could relate to my story was amazing!<br />
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Now...to the important stuff. I HAVE A JOB.<br />
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It's a 7-month contract as a Junior Graphic Designer in the Marketing Department of a big, global, corporate company. I got the job on a Wednesday and started the following Monday. The dress code is office smart which is weird for a designer as I'm used to smart casual. My poor casual clothes aren't getting a look in these days (<i>Yes Jeans, I still love you</i>). The weekend before starting was spent rushing through shops in search of pencil skirts, shirts, work trousers, blazers, and work shoes. I am now in my fourth week with the first been taken up with induction training.<br />
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The building is an amazing new, fancy, and modern space. I desperately want to go around and take a few sneaky pictures but can't for fear the prospective mortification of someone seeing. My fellow colleagues are so warm and welcoming that no lunch has felt weird (no sitting awkwardly on my own crying into my soup or pretending to message people on my signal-less phone). My commute is a 40-minute drive both ways. I'm completely and utterly exhausted and make sure to be in bed by 10.30pm with clothes laid out and lunch ready. On the bright side, my internal body clock has started to change from waking at 10am to waking at 6.45am in a few weeks. Even on a Saturday!!! I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing! As for the workload? It's totally within my capabilities and I don't feel out of my depth. Win win win win.<br />
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Having gotten a job I've realised what the most disheartening thing about being unemployed was--not feeling needed or useful, not working to an end product. The good thing is, I do feel useful now. I am making a contribution and getting paid for it. There's no better feeling (well apart from sipping Mojitos on a beach in the Caribbean). I definitely have further to go on the career ladder but am delighted that this is the next step in that journey.<br />
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Who knows where I'll be in seven months. All I know is that persistence does pay off (so keep at it unemployed creative folk). I didn't give up on my search for a job in the creative world and now here I am getting new experiences and skills. I think my last blog post about unemployment gave me the extra <i>umph</i> to talk the talk and walk the walk and ultimately got me the job! There's power in writing down your thoughts and aspirations!<br />
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As for how I look and feel every evening getting home? It goes something like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rq9SDI7rCHj2gOcRrBV9qA-L3YZ84auBbF3aVfFYx0_vmJl21jGw8Tl5TVSIZVJh_lx0A6pIvUhkWdOS1FnJYJuB23QQGkZWbfoZeWp-0odWsFAPE6t4YW67eBttcVwLo1BCRStNNfhK/s1600/IMG_4066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rq9SDI7rCHj2gOcRrBV9qA-L3YZ84auBbF3aVfFYx0_vmJl21jGw8Tl5TVSIZVJh_lx0A6pIvUhkWdOS1FnJYJuB23QQGkZWbfoZeWp-0odWsFAPE6t4YW67eBttcVwLo1BCRStNNfhK/s1600/IMG_4066.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-37061390148579831402014-02-18T15:16:00.000+00:002014-02-19T12:15:19.946+00:00Why being unemployed isn’t all what it’s cracked up to be<!--StartFragment-->
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Money for
‘nothing’, endless television, and onesies. I wish that’s all it involved.</div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’ve been
unemployed for nearly nine months (actually that’s extremely scary, it’s the
first time I’ve totted it up). Rewind to September 2012 when I quit the shop
job that I had on and off for nine years. It got me through school and college,
the year of saving for America and the year after I got back. This was the
point when I decided I needed to do something drastic about my career. The more
I stayed in that job, the less likely I was to find a job in my field, and the
more my creative energy diminished.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I got an
Honours Bachelor of Design in Visual Communication from NCAD in 2009, where I
focused on illustration and print. When I quit my job I had a freelance layout
job with a non-profit book publishers. It turned into a longer-term job that I
milked through to May 2013. In that time I also squeezed in a three-month
part-time unpaid internship with an Irish Women’s magazine. I vowed never to do
anything unpaid after that, I did my time and I deserved to get paid. I’M AN
ADULT!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’m not the
type of person who likes being unemployed. I keep busy. I’m creative and
motivated and interested in new things. Alongside job hunting, over the next
eight months I would voluntarily paint murals for the local Tidy Towns
Committee, move house, join a hockey club, take a two-week trip around Ireland
and subsequently start my ‘Photo of the Day’ on Instagram. I would go on a few
interviews that I was so close to getting. One employer in particular really
loved me and my work but someone with more experience eventually got the job. I
found this the case numerous times.</span></div>
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The Giant's Causeway from my trip around Ireland. </div>
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A mural I did for the Tidy Towns (with lots of helpers). </div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Not one to be
thrown out with the bath water, I decided to add to my skills with a digital
marketing course in November. It seemed to go hand-in-hand with design. I was
excited and enthusiastic after finishing the intensive eight-day course and
secured a two-week placement in a top media agency as part of the course. I was
now ready to apply for digital marketing jobs. They were everywhere. Of course
I needed to go for the junior roles and I found that paid internships were the
way to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It’s been about
a month since I’ve started on the digital marketing job hunting. I decided not
to do a few Job Bridge ‘internships’ back in December for a number of small
companies as there was no one to learn from (defeating the purpose) and I would
work a lot from home. This was the opposite of what I wanted. I wanted to work in
a team and bounce ideas off others. I wasn’t going to get where I wanted to get
by working on my own so after a bit of thinking I decided I just couldn't do them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In the new year
I’ve had one interview for a paid internship in marketing. There were six or
seven positions going and they interviewed about fifty people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I didn’t get
the job.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As usual I
asked for feedback on my interview and was told that the standard was very high
and that there were people with significant industry experience and that there
wasn’t any distinct feedback to give me. Now does that sound like a paid
internship to you? Didn’t think so! How is one to progress in a field when the
junior roles are going to overqualified people?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The most
infuriating thing about job hunting is the fact that I am wasting my brain
cells at home day after day when I could be out making a difference! I’m a
people person with great enthusiasm, motivation and creativity. It’s annoying
how these employers can’t see how hard I’d work for them, how excited I’d be to
work with a team, how I am dying to work and not just applying for jobs to keep
the social welfare off my back.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So what am I
doing now?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I am learning
how to knit again. I am helping out with my local Tidy Towns committee. I am
researching blogging so I can set up my own professional blog with it's own domain name. I am playing in
hockey matches with experienced players after just learning how to play. I am
making a poster for my cousin’s band’s fundraiser. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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My new runners for hockey. </div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I am also on my
own a lot, trying to not pull my hair out, oh...and applying for jobs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Unfortunately
it might have come to the time when I apply for ‘normal’ jobs as I call them, ones that aren't in my field but that I could have a chance at getting due to my years of dedicated retail work. </span>They are jobs that I
don’t particularly want to do due to lack of creativity but that I’ll do because I’m desperate to earn some money. I
want to be able to go out, buy clothes, and treat myself to lunch and dinner.</div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It just so
happens that I got a rejection email right this minute from another paid
internship that I know that I could be brilliant at and that I’m definitely
qualified for. Apparently the standard was exceptionally high (cue scrunched up
face and evil eyes pointed towards the computer). It doesn’t deter me. I’m
hopeful and confident as always that I will get a great job...at some point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Now, while most
of you are working your asses off I might go make myself a cup of herbal tea,
and as a reward for writing this I may even watch an episode of <i>Modern
Family</i></span><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There are perks
to being unemployed, but most of the time I can’t enjoy them because I am too
busy worrying about trying to get a job. That and wondering if I’ll get away
with staying in my pajamas for the day!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Click me: <a href="https://vine.co/v/Mu0bh1DDatO" target="_blank">A Vine on what I want to be when I grow up</a></div>
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Ps. I also have plenty of time for fun Snapchats (laurakcolgan). </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-61883455551090640762013-07-19T23:35:00.003+01:002013-07-19T23:35:36.778+01:00The Night of the Mi'raj<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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An insight into Muslim and Saudi traditions, taken from a book of fiction. NO COMMENT.</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-40609985842861777332012-12-28T22:42:00.002+00:002012-12-28T22:42:40.473+00:00Digging upwardsI think I have finally begun to dig my way out a little. (Note post below.)<br />
<br />
Where did I get the shovel to begin? With a trip to Italy and France. I think there's nothing like a little change of scenery to freshen up the eyes and give you motivation.<br />
<br />
I hit the train station after a quick visit to my dad near Milan. One train into the city. A few hours wait, and then three more trains saw me into Nice.<br />
<br />
From Milan I managed to lug my monster of an 18kg suitcase onto the train. There were no exceptionally good seats to accommodate me and the monster. I stand for awhile. An older man, presumably Italian, lets out an angry groan towards me. I'm assuming the train just whizzed by the stop he wanted. I said nothing for I didn't know what he said nor how to respond. After the next stop I decide to brave the blue doors and three steps up. I find myself a seat and don't care that the monster will be in the aisle. This train journey is two and a half hours after all. My swollen ankles from medication wouldn't last it standing.<br />
<br />
The seat is so squashed that the young guy opposite me has his legs on the outside and mine are in between his, not touching of course. The guy's girlie, flowery backpack keeps resting on my knees while he hunches to read his book. He puts sunglasses on the odd time and has big white headphones. My guess is he's a poser...and a douche bag. TAKE YOUR GODDAMN BAG OFF MY KNEES! Yes that does mean that it has to rest against you stomach mister! I push my knees against the bag, he looks at me, I smile, he moves the bag slightly. It wasn't enough. I have to tell him to take his bag off me, he does, kind of. I will not be able to stick this for two hours. Oh help! He gets up. There IS a God.<br />
<br />
My fourth train of the day has me get a lucky one-seater down a few steps. My heart stops as we go through a tunnel and the lights go off for a few seconds. I suddenly accustom my ears to the change in language. It's no longer 'pronto', 'ciao' and 'bello' but 'bonjour', 'excuse-moi' and 'beau.' I see people paddling on the Cote d'Azur. It's refreshing, especially for an early October day. I walk myself to my hotel and there it begins.<br />
<br />
As I leave the hotel I have the feeling of freedom and independence. I don't think I've ever been alone in an unfamiliar city before, after all one usually goes holidaying with someone or a group. I don't know if it was just me or if Nice is easy to find your way around because my feet led me to the main areas and streets. I found the Vielle Ville and it's quaint narrow cobbled streets. I stumbled upon the most fantastic sight - a very elderly hunch-backed lady in high-wedged shoes, playing her violin on a street corner with her shabby music papers in front of her. The sight of her was definitely better than the playing though.<br />
<br />
I wandered for ages in the mild evening air. The magic ran out a little as I tried to recite my knowledge of French in my head. "<i>Je voudrais une table pour une s'il cous plait</i> (<i>pour favour</i> was running through my head too). Eventually I settled on a restaurant for dinner, I think I was a bit scared at first because it would be my first dining solo experience in a restaurant. I went for beef ravioli nicoise style and was told by the waiter that the c is pronounced like an s.<br />
<br />
Speaking French was hard enough. I spoke in hushed apologetic tones as my schooling in French finished eight years ago. I did try, I think it's a must to know general vocabulary in every country you go to. You need to show the locals that you are making the effort and not expecting them to speak in English all of them time for you.<br />
<br />
Back at the hotel a man followed me to the door. He spoke French but exclaimed how he didn't know if my eyes were green or blue. I assured him they were blue. I don't know how he could have seen my eye colour from across the road in the dark in the beginning anyway. I eventually ran off with a <i>"Bonsoir!</i>" In my bedroom it took me ten minutes to realise that I was playing a Spanish tv channel while in France. <i>Toutes langue dans ma tete!</i><br />
<br />
I was pleased with the success of my day. I had managed to navigate my way from one country to another with many switch overs, use the French language, find my way around a new city, and dine out by myself. Things were starting to look up.<i> </i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-60754980154224679192012-09-20T21:25:00.000+01:002012-09-20T21:25:13.113+01:00My Biggest Mistake?Five days ago I might have made the biggest mistake of my life, or, it might have been the best thing I could ever have done.<br />
<br />
Yes, that's right, in the middle of a recession I QUIT MY JOB!!!<br />
<br />
My heart starts to thump wildly in my chest, my throat starts to seize up, and my eyes start to get teary with anxiety as I think about my recent actions. Yet, in some way I want to believe that this is exactly what my life needs. Thus far my life has gone somewhat like this:<br />
<br />
Born - Baby - Montessori - Primary School - Primary School - Primary School - Primary School - Primary School - Primary School - Primary School - Primary School - Secondary School - Secondary School - Secondary School - Secondary School - Secondary School - Secondary School/Eurospar - Post Leaving Certificate Course/Eurospar - College/Eurospar - College/Eurospar - College/Eurospar - College/Eurospar - Eurospar/Writing course - San Francisco - Eurospar.<br />
<br />
That brings me exactly to the age of twenty-six. For a person who thinks that she has a lot to give to the world, it isn't much of a resume. I followed the standard path of what I believed should be done--School and college, then career. Yet, I am still waiting for the career part to take off. The uncertainty of this unstructured part of life is the scariest thing I have ever endured.<br />
<br />
Having had to come back from a year in San Francisco living the life of a city girl I hopped back into my safe job so that I could earn money while figuring out if Ireland is actually where I wanted to be, rather than sitting on my behind. After a few months of catching up with friends and saying goodbye to other wayward travellers, I decided that Ireland would do me for the time being, as well as allow me to focus my attention on getting my full drivers license and sorting out my health. It was the perfect win-win. When I eventually got my license after eleven months of dedicated driving and having received numerous nos or non-responses to my attempts at job applications, that is where the energy and focus started to drain. That is where the trouble started.<br />
<br />
I'm twenty-six and I feel like life is now starting to pass me by without having anything extraordinary with it. Quoting a quote from a Roald Dahl book I've heard again recently:<br />
<br />
"<span class="userContent">Never do anything by halves if you want to get away with it. Be outrageous. Go the whole hog."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent">And that's where the job-quitting came into the scenario (I did not hear this quote before I quit though but it sums it up pretty well.) For a few weeks I had started to hope that I was the next person who would be delighting everyone with the news of a new job. Everyday I got a little more desperate, yet my attempts at job applications were mediocre because my late night shifts and same old way of life in the small town were holding me back. A few weeks ago I started to plan a trip in my head--a month away, two weeks by myself and then two weeks visiting friends and family on the continent. It seemed like a great idea. It formulated one night, I found myself telling my mother about it the next day, and that night I was writing my letter of resignation. And I DID hand it in the next day.</span><br />
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent">Now, I will say that I am not a person who can rely on mammy and daddy for financial support. I pay my own way in almost everything and did so on my trip to San Francisco. So this action does not come without serious consequences. I will surely eat into any savings I may have whether it be travelling or just living jobless for awhile. I have finally agreed (to myself) that I think this is a worthy cause for this money. I am young and have no attachments to anyone, anywhere (apart from all my dearly beloved family but they won't miss me too much). That's why...</span><br />
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent">THE TIME IS NOW.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent">I need the head space to be able to make more decisions. I need new people and places to give me more inspiration. I need change, a boost to my brain cells. The white hairs on my head need different winds to toss and turn them. I may have jumped into the biggest hole that I ever had to dig myself out of but I'm willing to take the chance. If I didn't do it now, then you would see me serving the customers in Eurospar with my rosary beads around my hands and the coffin waiting behind me.</span><br />
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent">I don't expect things to change right now but I am excited for what could happen. Life is about enjoying and that is what I want to do.</span><br />
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent">Now, if anyone out there wants to pay me to do something fun then give me a bell. I'll be here in the virtual world letting you all know how far I've dug my way out!</span><br />
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-75382252460148826362012-09-11T00:10:00.003+01:002012-09-11T00:10:37.967+01:00911(I think I wrote this near enough when everything happened when I was about 15. I researched into the subject back then but couldn't be sure that all details are completely accurate.)<br />
<br />
Disaster struck on the eleventh of September,<br />
All nations know it's a day we'll always remember.<br />
Four planes were hi-jacked,<br />
It was unknown,<br />
How would the world know<br />
What it would be shown?<br />
One minute the World Trade Centres stood upright,<br />
The next we were shown a horrific sight.<br />
The terrorists drove a plane into North Tower,<br />
Almost suddenly New York was given a dust shower.<br />
All the people around started to run,<br />
The dust cloud covered the morning sun.<br />
For eighteen minutes we watched our television screens,<br />
Then America got hit with another horrible scene.<br />
South Tower was now hit with a second American plane,<br />
The two tallest buildings in the world would never be the same.<br />
But that wasn't enough for the terrorists to do,<br />
Because into the Pentagon a third plane flew.<br />
Two minutes later a car bomb did explode<br />
Outside the State Department; Everything was put in fast mode.<br />
All buildings were going to be evacuated,<br />
even the White House.<br />
The firemen wanted no one left in them,<br />
Not even a mouse.<br />
Then out of the blue, without a warning,<br />
South Tower collapsed at five-past ten in the morning.<br />
Five minutes after<br />
Part of the Pentagon collapsed,<br />
Followed by North Tower;<br />
Thousands of people were trapped.<br />
Most of the people on earth couldn't believe their eyes,<br />
Because remains of the buildings took the place of the skies.<br />
The fourth plane didn't reach its' destination,<br />
Thank goodness for that;<br />
It could have destroyed even more of the broken down nation.<br />
<br />
After it was all over,<br />
Many of people were relieved.<br />
But still it was so unreal,<br />
It was hard to believe.<br />
Many of those present risked their lives,<br />
To help others who were tortured by the terrorists with knives.<br />
<br />
Our hearts go out to those firefighters who tried,<br />
To save mankind; But when the towers collapsed many sadly died.<br />
Some people were saved,<br />
Their friends and families were glad,<br />
But those who are still lost<br />
Make us all feel sad.<br />
<br />
I believe the attacks were a message from God above<br />
To bring everyone together and show our love.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-90260777444123963112012-09-05T11:12:00.001+01:002012-09-05T11:12:22.794+01:00MenA friend request. It got spurred on from the first sentence I wrote.<br />
<br />
Steph will always find a man to look at<br />
Where ever she goes,<br />
When walking down the street<br />
Or hanging out the clothes.<br />
<br />
She thinks that she's shy<br />
But is a flirt by nature,<br />
She wants to be a mother<br />
In the near future.<br />
<br />
She needs a man who's older,<br />
Sweet, and kind;<br />
One who she could look after<br />
And mind.<br />
<br />
He would be well built<br />
Looks after himself,<br />
Not the type of guy<br />
To sit up on a shelf.<br />
<br />
They'd have a few kids,<br />
A grand big abode; <br />
He'd go to work<br />
While she was in house-wife mode.<br />
<br />
She doesn't know who he is<br />
But will wait patiently;<br />
For when he comes along<br />
She will jump up with glee.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-55982720445258439262012-09-04T17:50:00.001+01:002012-09-04T17:52:37.585+01:00Shy BoyMy friend from the previous song told the protagonist of this one that I would write an inspirational song for him, as you will find out about now. I think of it as more of a poem. It was written on the spot.<br />
<br />
<br />
Wolfie, Wolfie<br />
You can do it,<br />
When they see you<br />
Their eyes will be lit.<br />
<br />
You'll swan on over<br />
Show them your charm,<br />
Then they'll be<br />
Resting their hand gently on your arm.<br />
<br />
If you show them your wit<br />
Get them into your mind,<br />
Only god knows <br />
What type of nice girl you'll find.<br />
<br />
Don't be ashamed of your talents<br />
Or your nerdy ways,<br />
She'll love you for you;<br />
It'll be like riding the waves.<br />
<br />
Bring her for walks<br />
Read her some books,<br />
Show her your favourite films<br />
And then maybe you'll fuck.<br />
<br />
So next time you're in college<br />
Just go and say hi,<br />
The cute one that looked at you;<br />
She might also be shy.<br />
<br />
Take a chance<br />
You're only young,<br />
You might be what she needs<br />
Go have some fun.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-15138337153052980132012-09-04T14:11:00.002+01:002012-09-04T17:53:41.182+01:00The TrampI wrote this for my friend to cheer her up. It was an impulse thing so was wrote on my phone and sent it via Whats App to her as I was getting ready to head out for the day. Just to let you know she's not a tramp, she has a boyfriend of 3 years, and her parents are present and lovely. She doesn't have a son either. I thought this would give her a laugh anyway...<br />
<br />
<br />
Oh Freya<br />
She lives like a tramp,<br />
She goes up to the bar<br />
And she gets a drunk man.<br />
<br />
They run to the toilets<br />
Or out to the bushes,<br />
Have a quick ride<br />
And then off she rushes.<br />
<br />
Her mother was one<br />
Her father not known,<br />
Sure he probably was<br />
The milkman's son!<br />
<br />
For years it went on<br />
'Til she met a fine man,<br />
The tramp fell in love<br />
And gave tramping a ban.<br />
<br />
She bore him a child<br />
But then tongues started talking,<br />
He found our her past<br />
And then he started walking.<br />
<br />
Oh Freya the tramp<br />
With a young child beside her,<br />
Went off on her own<br />
'Twas the best thing for her.<br />
<br />
She travelled the world<br />
Her son was her saviour,<br />
They sang for their money<br />
And then finished their tour.<br />
<br />
In Australia they settled<br />
And there they lived grand,<br />
They were happy and joyous<br />
Loved the new land.<br />
<br />
She'll never go back<br />
To her tramping ways,<br />
Her family is her life<br />
<br />
Oh those were the days. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-19411884055250681792012-07-18T15:03:00.001+01:002012-07-18T15:04:58.756+01:00The thing called the InternetI am starting to wonder exactly how many peoples' lives have been taken over by the internet (and smart phones). I have been sitting here for about two hours uploading and re-uploading photos and images to my design website. At the same time I have been checking out Facebook, Twitter, and having a browse of what jobs are about. On my phone I have been Whats Apping a group of friends. I am actually being productive. The reason that I am on the internet is to sort out my website and look at jobs, the other stuff is just while I wait. Just how many people are doing all of those other things with no exact purpose rather then to pass time, as well as being on You Tube looking at funny videos, playing online games, online clothes shopping etc. I really don't know what other "passing time" activities people do online, gamble maybe. <br />
<br />
Is our virtual world taking over our real one? We look at friends' photos on Facebook, ask them about their holidays etc but what about calling them up or meeting them in person for a good old chin wag? It seems that this is taking a little bit of a back seat, and with time restraints in our busy lives, everyone is taking to the internet to get their daily dose of "friend."<br />
<br />
What about all of the other online activities? Are we playing online games, browsing, You Tubing etc instead of doing exercise, taking up a hobby such as painting, knitting, going to a book club (and actually reading the book beforehand).<br />
<br />
Do most people come in the door and immediately turn on their laptops or computers to see what has been going on while they were away or do they already know everything from constantly being on their smart phones? I wonder if there will be big consequences in the future due to overuse of the internet, such every child needing to wear glasses, inability for personal social interaction, a deterioration in team sports and hobbies?<br />
<br />
But what about those people who actually do fit in their social activities but still manage to fit a few hours of the internet in each day? What did this time used to be used for? Family interactions and television? Does it mean that families are interacting less and less because everyone is huddled off in their own rooms playing the role of a virtual person?<br />
<br />
I am a bit of a culprit. I don't do lots of things on the internet but can definitely pass time on it. I do exercise and read at night and go out for daytime walks and lunches with friends though. Yet I still have many uninterrupted hours to spend on the internet, and honestly sometimes I wish it was never invented. I wish I actually gave much more time to "writing that book," getting the latest trends from an actual magazine, browsing my design and illustration books, illustrating.<br />
<br />
It seems that the internet is like an addiction. It lures you in and captures you in it's imaginary threads.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-28361462373862727842012-05-14T19:18:00.002+01:002012-07-04T16:07:43.905+01:00Take a beatingFor ten years, as a child and teenager, I was part of a Kenpo Karate group. Along with getting and keeping fit, I also made life-long friends and learned how to throw a punch properly. I'd like to think *touch wood* if I ever got attacked that I could defend myself. We practised the techniques and forms millions of times and the gestures and movements don't leave you after you quit. I thoroughly enjoyed punching the crap out of bags and punching mitts and fighting both people of my own age, height and sex, and those bigger than me, both in and out of competitions.<br />
<br />
Karate gave my life some substance and something to look forward to. It also acted as a release for extra and unhealthy energy. Now that I am in my twenties I have recently taken up a ladies' boxing class. I don't fight anyone; I just spend an hour skipping and punching bags. One day I was feeling a little stressed from work and afterwards i went to boxing. I punched those bags with all my might because it really is up to yourself how much you get out of a class. Unfortunately for me I had to return to work for a few night hours, however I realised how much more calmer I was, and that the small things that were annoying me and stressing me out earlier in the day, weren't affecting me that much. I was able to brush things off.<br />
<br />
For the past few years I have known that I need a release like that. Something like yoga isn't enough; I need to be able to fight the tension out of me. I would often get the pillow from my bed and give it a beating when I was feeling on the anxious side; I introduced my friends to this. They thought I was mad at first but then they saw the benefits of it. Instead of taking your frustrations out on a person with snarly comments and evil eyes, you are attacking an innocent little pillow that won't know the difference, apart from the fact that it might need to be replaced a little sooner than usual.<br />
<br />
So, yes, something like boxing is a great way to take a hold of your anxieties, annoyances, fears and troubles and punch them away, so long as you don't bring the punching into the street.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-52386335514182185552012-04-19T20:47:00.000+01:002012-07-04T16:08:56.159+01:00Jane Eyre notionsI think that one of the main reasons why someone loves a book rather than hates it, is because they find similarities within the protagonist and their habits or speech. It might also have to do with other characters, and the general situations that the main characters are in.<br />
<br />
I really enjoyed Jane Eyre, because it was about a single woman trying to be independent in a man's world.<br />
<br />
"'A new servitude! There is something in that, I soliloquised (mentally, be it understood; I did not talk aloud). 'I know there is, because it does not sound too sweet. It is not like such words as Liberty, Excitement, Enjoyment: delightful sounds truly, but no more than sounds for me, and so hollow and fleeting that it is mere waster of time to listen to them. But Servitude! That must be matter of fact. Anyone may serve. I have served here eight years; now all I want is to serve elsewhere. Can I not get so much of my own will? Is not the thing feasible? Yes - yes - the end is not so difficult, if I had only a brain active enough to ferret out the means of attaining it.'" (CHAPTER X)<br />
<br />
This is one of my favourite parts of the book for a few reasons. Firstly, I can relate to it, because right now in my life I wish to "serve" somewhere else. I want to rustle up what has become my norm. Secondly, I love the fact that Jane explains her exact thoughts: "(mentally, be it understood; I did not talk aloud)." That part makes me laugh because it is also a way in which I think. I like to describe how exactly I was carrying on at the time. My third reason for loving this piece, as well as others in the book, is because Jane Eyre is very honest; she does not talk any nonsense. She is merely describing how she is feeling.<br />
<br />
Again, here is another paragraph that I love:<br />
<br />
"'You have nothing to do with the master of Thornfield, further than to receive the salary he gives you for teaching his protégée, and to be grateful for such respectful and kind treatment as, if you do your duty, you have a right to expect at his hands. Be sure that is the only tie he seriously acknowledges between you and him; so don't make him the object of your fine feelings, your raptures, agonies, and so forth. He is not of your order: keep to your caste, and be too self-respecting to lavish the love of the whole heart, soul, and strength, where such a gift is not wanted and would be despised.'" (CHAPTER XVII)<br />
<br />
At this moment in time Jane has felt herself wondering of her master, Mr Rochester's whereabouts. In this little statement that she tells herself, it sounds like she is having inner turmoil and is trying to convince herself that she should not think about him the way she might like. It really expresses her stubbornness, her stubbornness to not need a man.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I need to talk to myself in my head to make myself remember something or to make sure I don't think about someone in a certain way etc., so I love that Jane does it too.<br />
<br />
"Stay till he comes, reader; and, when I disclose my secret to him, you shall share the confidence." (CHAPTER XXV)<br />
<br />
I think the line above is great too because Jane knows something we don't but tells us outright that we won't find out what it is until Mr Rochester comes back. The reader is left hanging in suspense and waiting until they see his name grace the pages of our book again.<br />
<br />
The next extract is favorable to me because it brings in the notion of luck and even horoscopes. My mother has always said that she thinks I was born under a lucky star, so this section reminded me of that:<br />
<br />
"'...She is teachable and handy.' (This then, I thought is Miss Oliver, the heiress, favoured, it seems, in the gifts of fortune, as well as in those of nature! What happy combination of the planets presided over her birth, I wonder?)" (CHAPTER XXXI)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-48826339280534735292012-04-17T11:57:00.001+01:002012-04-17T11:57:12.522+01:00Taxes BluesWhy do I, as a person, leave quite important things to the last minute? I am sure I am not the only one, but I cause myself undue stress and anxiety. For instance, I needed to file my US taxes. I was extremely prepared at the start of the year, yet I only started to investigate into it a mere week or so before they were due. I couldn't reply to texts or think about going anywhere until I had done then, yet I wasn't really doing them and didn't even know how to file them correctly.<br />
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For an entire week my life was basically put on hold while I stressed about them, cancelled lunch dates, missed hanging-out opportunities; All because I didn't do them earlier and gradually as I went along. I didn't even give myself time to ask for help, until the last minute and then I put pressure on another person.<br />
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I really detested the stress that I felt and the awful curdling in my gut. This has taught me a lesson. I really am going to try and be more prepared when it comes to serious time-crunching matters. If it works I will be delighted because I don't think there is any need to put unnecessary pressure on ourselves. It does seem as if we are our own worst enemies; This is what I want to change.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-54623535613759641752012-04-04T21:57:00.000+01:002012-04-04T21:59:03.252+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouutPVCWeD53yktGmzjR_6hrJ_-i66RaAbVcIWjKQO8T7t4ZBEipg-DnKQJTd1SwzanV5oDuTPOZDFptvJ7qfKc6K4CLNDCZvNxBN5doUDxhyphenhyphenZCORS4k3QP5iK6_BWtGDJuKzLs2lOP3v/s1600/04042012223.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouutPVCWeD53yktGmzjR_6hrJ_-i66RaAbVcIWjKQO8T7t4ZBEipg-DnKQJTd1SwzanV5oDuTPOZDFptvJ7qfKc6K4CLNDCZvNxBN5doUDxhyphenhyphenZCORS4k3QP5iK6_BWtGDJuKzLs2lOP3v/s400/04042012223.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727652877746220786" border="0" /></a> The moon was peeping through the tree at 7pm this evening in Dublin.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-80203784710249354052012-03-22T13:18:00.003+00:002012-03-29T21:10:09.548+01:00Counting ConundrumA friend of mine recently told me that she could not buy anything or spend a penny without thinking about how long she had worked for it. She is crazy. Okay so she isn't crazy but in my eyes this type of behaviour will drive you demented and you will find it very hard to derive happiness from anything; That is apart from a glorious sun-soaked free walk in your locality, because you would be counting how many minutes you worked for for an hour journey in the car.<br /><br />Imagine every time you wanted to buy a bag of sweets your inner voice would say "You worked twenty minutes for that." Imagine eating dinner out and saying "Five and a half hours you had to work for that hour and a half out." The enjoyment of every outing and adventure would be drained by the thoughts of money. If you wanted to buy a new pair of boots they might cost 11 hours of work. What I want to know is: if you don't spend your money on things you want and need, then what do you spend it on? I want those 100 euro boots and I'm going to buy them. I don't care if I worked 11 hours for them because to me that was 11 hours of pay well spent!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-24994544809787555092012-03-14T16:32:00.006+00:002012-03-14T16:59:30.362+00:00Disaster Day<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznaokIXORifNBxOOEHU9ZOpl7h4XdYDEDoEB9ju-h9xHrBcLURmrv2f7K2rASxD7kPU0pXXVyRnRbOFi_ckozgjcd-VhFZeKJYCW_UaSrb064FRJsLLB-uqlVDFwlKpz4Ex3llJtgNlQs/s1600/Bettie-Page-smile-291x561.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznaokIXORifNBxOOEHU9ZOpl7h4XdYDEDoEB9ju-h9xHrBcLURmrv2f7K2rASxD7kPU0pXXVyRnRbOFi_ckozgjcd-VhFZeKJYCW_UaSrb064FRJsLLB-uqlVDFwlKpz4Ex3llJtgNlQs/s400/Bettie-Page-smile-291x561.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719797121182173570" border="0" /></a>(Photo from pcdon.com)<br /></div><br />At the moment I am thinking that people who say they have had such a bad day, might be the ones who are making the day BAD; it's just the way you think about things that makes the difference. For instance, one night I was in a bar. I asked my friend where the toilet was but I didn't hear her so I just set off in the general direction. I saw a door near the bar, but it had some Out of Order-type sign on it so I ignored it and went upstairs. I browsed around there until I asked a girl at the top bar where the bathroom was. She directed me downstairs. It turned out the toilet was downstairs beside the bar all along. It was the door (that I didn't see) beside the door with the Out of Order-type sign. The cubicle I chose had no lock and would not flush. When I went to wash my hands there was no soap and the tap I tried to use was broken and wonky. I then threw the tissue I got to wash my hands into a weird water bucket thing instead of the bin beside it. Luckily the bathroom lady picked it out for me.<br /><br />I am just wondering if this type of instance would make someone think that they were so unlucky and ruin the rest of the night for them. To me it made no difference. I felt the same going in to the bathroom as I did coming out because I didn't make a big deal out of what had happened. I even made sure to check my shoe for stray tissue on the way out.<br /><br />I think that people can be over dramatic sometimes. Say if someone got a bad haircut, then the heel on their shoe broke, and they forgot to get their boyfriend a birthday present; does that qualify as a bad day? If you look at it through the eyes of an optimist then it was just a day, where a few mishaps happened. It doesn't do anyone any good to dwell on the few negatives. It just so happened that they occurred all on the same day! My friend cut my fringe once and she said that the scissors (the one I use for cutting paper and what not) took on a life of it's own and so I ended up with the shortest fringe of all time for a few weeks until it grew out. I just got on with what happened; a few clips and it was all fixed. I looked something like the above picture (Bette Page from pcdon.com). It may suit her but it was just weird on me.<br /><br />So, as an optimistic person, I think we need to stop with the bad days and bring on the good days. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and maybe goodness is too.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img src="file:///Users/Laura/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/Laura/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-55811604202081968952012-03-06T23:03:00.004+00:002012-03-06T23:31:58.539+00:00The Catcher in the RyeWhilst I was reading "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger, I was delighted to find similarities to the protagonists' thinking and my thinking; however weird it may be that he is a sixteen year-old boy and I'm a girl in my twenties and the book was written in the 1940s. I have started to realize that what makes a book good to someone is that if you have similarities in your train of thought with the characters, or if they do something you would love to dare to do. When we can sympathize with the character then I believe we are much more likely to enjoy it.<br /><br />Here are my favourite pieces from the book, the ones I can relate to:<br /><br />I love this quote that Holden Caulfield, the protagonist, says in relation to watching a play:<br />"What I'll have to do is, I'll have to read that play. The trouble with me is, I always have to read that stuff by myself. If an actor acts it out, I hardly listen. I keep worrying about whether he's going to do something phony every minute."<br /><br />This is a true statement:<br />"'Holden!' she said. It's marvelous to see you!' It's been <span style="font-style: italic;">ages</span>.' She had one of these very loud, embarrassing voices when you met her somewhere. She got away with it because she was so damn good-looking, but it always gave me a pain in the ass."<br /><br />This is a piece about when two characters bump into each other. The two had met each other previously, yet to Holden '...they probably met each other just <span style="font-style: italic;">once.</span>":<br />"...Then he and old Sally started talking about a lot of people they both knew. It was the phoniest conversation you ever heard in your life. They both kept thinking of places as fast as they could, then they'd think of somebody that lived there and mention their name..."<br /><br />The truth:<br />"The trouble with girls is, if they like a boy, no matter how big a bastard he is, they'll say he has an inferiority complex, and if they <span style="font-style: italic;">don't</span> like him, no matter how nice a guy he is, or how big an inferiority complex he has, they'll say he's conceited. Even smart girls do it."<br /><br />When Holden is having a drink with a guy he knows, they talk about the guy's girlfriend. It reminds me of the kind of non-important things that I am interested in knowing:<br />"'She happens to be from Shanghai.'<br />'No kidding! She Chi<span style="font-style: italic;">nese</span>, for Chrissake?'<br />'Obviously.'<br />'No kidding! Do you like that? Her being Chinese?'<br />'Obviously.'<br />'Why? I'd be interested to know - I really would.'"<br /><br />Holden is telling someone about a time when his old teacher at the school, Pencey, is telling him and another student about the great time he had at the school as a student. The observation he makes is just what would heighten my annoyance in listening to something that I didn't want to listen to:<br />"...I don't know. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't been all out of breath. He was all out of breath from just climbing up the stairs, and the whole time he was looking for his initials he keep breathing hard, with his nostrils all funny and sad, while he kept telling Stradlater and I to get all we could out of Pencey..."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-68547795323372776142012-03-01T10:26:00.002+00:002012-03-01T10:33:39.974+00:00US school shootingsThere was a incident in Ohio recently where a student opened fire in the cafeteria, so far three students have died. From the few articles I have read I have only received information about the students who died, where the incident happened, and that the kid who shot at fellow classmates was a apparently a loner (a little insight into why this happened?).<br /><br />I understand that we must send out our sympathies to the dead first because they were taken so young, but after this we should be looking into how and why this actually happened, ie. gun licenses.<br /><br />Where did this boy get the gun from? Was it from his family home? Was it loaded, ready and waiting for him to find it? The usage of guns should not be taken likely, and they should not be within the reach of youths. If he did not have easy access to a gun then those teens would have been spared their lives.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-43656917501969799262012-02-28T21:03:00.004+00:002012-02-28T21:19:11.339+00:00Children in the Adult WorldFrom working in a shop and having young cousins I have come to see how all children want is to be part of the adult world and help out. As an adult, the more you fight this, the more the child will become agitated. It doesn't take much effort to let them join in and help you in your daily tasks, and it can even be easier in the longrun. For instance, when we were moving house my three year-old cousin carried out drawers from a chest of drawers to the car, stood on a chair and washed dirty dishes, threw items into the skip, and even helped us in the decision-making in the narrowing down of cutlery.<br /><br />This was most definitely not child labour, but something that he really wanted to be a part of. He wanted to help us out and he was smart enough to know what he was capable of; if the box was too heavy I would give him an item out of it to carry to the car. This made him happy, and it didn't effect how quickly we got the job done. We let him be part of the entire process and it made him feel useful and part of the group. If we had made him sit in a corner and play with toys that he was not interested in at the time then there most likely would have been tears and tantrums.<br /><br />Yesterday in the supermarket I work in a child of about three went around the shop with his own child-sized toy trolley and put all of the items in it that his parents wanted. His parents told me that he was saying he was an adult and the other children in his class were kids. As a result of him doing something that is generally an adults' job, he saw himself as that. It changed his perspective of himself and gave him a sense of purpose as he was able to help his parents out.<br /><br />Children learn from what they see and mimic what the adults and teenagers in their lives' do. So I believe that if we teach them to help out and part-take in our everyday activities from an early age then it might become the natural progression for them into adulthood. Instead of putting them in the child category and only being allowed to do "child" activities, we should embrace their want to do what we do, to a certain extent, and see if it reaps the benefits in their later years.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-14821793643675803912012-02-28T13:33:00.003+00:002012-02-28T13:39:55.456+00:00Trait dislikeI really dislike it when a person talks about one person to another person, both of whom are present, and they describe the person's hair or nails or clothes in this manner:<br /><br />"I love THE hair. I love THE clothes and style."<br /><br />If they are talking about the former person to the other person then they should just say:<br /><br />"I love their/her/his hair. I love their/her/his clothes and style.<br /><br />Or, if they are talking directly to the former person whilst the other person listens on they should say:<br /><br />"I love YOUR hair. I love YOUR clothes and style."<br /><br />When they talk like the former one they are making the person sound like an inanimate object. It's a very impersonal way to speak, and personally I wouldn't be endeared for someone to talk about me like that. They are picking out traits of me that they like, but not exclusively saying that it is the traits on me that they like. Weird!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-42664025250838978002012-02-26T21:09:00.003+00:002012-02-26T21:21:35.356+00:00Everyday tasksMany many everyday tasks intrigue me. I like to know how and why people do things the way they do. There is no real reason for wanting to know these things, only that I find it very interesting how different people carry out the same tasks in different ways. For instance; how do you fill up a water bottle that already had water in it? Personally I have to empty all the water out, rinse the bottle out with more fresh, cold water and then fill it up. I know of other people (because I have asked) that just fill more water on top of the water that was already in the bottle. This seems barbaric to me even if the water was only put in an hour or so before. I think that the bottle needs to be cleansed and that the water needs to be as fresh as it can be. The old water seems to be contaminated in some small way.<br /><br />Another good one is how do you press the button at the traffic lights to cross the road? Again, I use a slightly OCD option and press the button with the knuckle of my index finger. I figure that if I was to eat something or touch my hair then it wouldn't matter that that part of my body touched the button that so many adults and children touched before me for years. If you think about it, the button-pressers before you could have just picked their nose, handled raw meat, changed a babies' nappy, scratched their nether regions, or maybe they haven't even washed in a week. The thoughts are horrifying. I really wish I remembered this train of thought when I hold onto the poles on buses.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-76165102002228296792012-02-24T21:57:00.006+00:002012-02-24T22:05:40.927+00:00Rearranged ReadingYou know when you are reading a book and the author mentions a room? Now imagine the room is in a cottage by the sea. For me, I immediately picture the house; what way it is facing, where the room is, and where the main elements like the door, bed, and window are. But alas, the author then goes on to describe the room and what is beside what. Now I'm in a conundrum. I have to go about rearranging the said fictional room in my head while my original picture keeps fighting for space. I decide to put the bed there instead so it's still similar to my original picture but now the wardrobe can go beside it. I twirl the room completely so the window can go on that side. It's a battle but I eventually get there, even if the room ends up being a bit smaller than the author would like.<br /><br />Isn't it interesting how your mind can make up images in a split second, and even better, it can rearrange them to suit a certain scenario? I wish we could all draw exactly what we see in our heads for this room and compare them. How different or similar would they be?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-75815368785670437542012-02-22T21:43:00.000+00:002012-02-22T21:53:52.475+00:00A retail workers' delightSo here's the deal. Customer wants to buy items in shop. Customer puts items on counter. Sales Assistant scans items in and helps customer put items in bags. Sales Assistant asks for money. Customer places coins on counter, sometimes out of reach of Sales Assistants' general reach AND when Sales Assistants' hand is outstretched waiting for money. Sales Assistant has to annoyingly pick each coin off the counter when customer could have dropped them straight into Sales Assistants' hand. The end deal? Sales Assistant begrudges the unknown, or sometimes known, customer when the scenario isn't even a life or death situation. The lesson? Sales Assistant should not dwell on stupid minor occurrences in daily life and work, and customer should open up eyes a little more and ask themselves what they would like if they were in Sales Assistants' position!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-39336708728043701792012-02-01T21:16:00.000+00:002012-02-01T21:24:49.480+00:00GrumpyA few days ago a woman in my local shop actually admitted that she is the most annoying customer in the shop and that she loves being a grump/annoying. She seemed proud of this fact. In my personal opinion, I do not think this is anything to be proud of. In fact I think it is quite sad. This woman has absolutely nothing better to do then to ask for refunds on items she didn't check the price of properly, complain about the prices of other items and of their location in the shop, and be annoying to the staff in general.<br /><br />Basically she likes to point out things that are done wrong in her eyes or otherwise. She likes to feel like she has the upper hand. She must not have the upper hand in her own life and uses people she barely knows as a means to get it. In effect, she is trying to make others' lives a little more miserable by complaining. If I am to be psychoanalytic about this, I would say it is because she is not happy in her own life. She likes to see others suffer and have to work harder because it is what is going on in her own life and she has no other way to express her distress. I believe this woman needs some other past times that don't involve sales assistants going home and taking their anti-stress and anti-customer medication.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979320742105537386.post-49863170554232333712012-01-23T21:10:00.001+00:002012-01-23T21:39:24.242+00:00Social NetworksWhilst on a walk with friends last Monday, the topic of Facebook came up. My friend spoke about how a friend of hers "checks in" to pretty much everywhere she goes, even to her bed. Now to me this is totally barbaric. She is letting the entire world know (her profile is public) where she is at any given time. This is making her more prone to mugging, burgulary, maybe even bullying.<br /><br />We then went on to talk about the people who we are friends with on Facebook. Awhile ago I deleted a large number of Facebook "friends," because, quite literally, I wasn't their friend, nor was I interacting with them in any way on Facebook, so I saw no point in carrying on as social networking friends. My friend mentioned that you can make people acquaintances and therefore let acquaintances and friends see different things, mainly letting acquaintances see hardly anything. Basically you stay friends with them for the sake of it.<br /><br />I got all excited and couldn't wait to get home to make people acquaintances because I have a niggling feeling that people stalk me so much more than I stalk them. Quite frankly I only check out the newsfeed on my homepage and the photos and statuses that go with it. I don't just randomly hop onto peoples' pages for a nosey (I am telling the truth, I really don't). I hop on when I want to contact them and even then I usually do this by private mail so that everyone around me can't see my weekend plans etc.<br /><br />I am friends with people on Facebook because they asked me, or we occasionally say hi on the street, or sometimes we've only exchanged a few words once. Yet, do I really want all of these people seeing all of my fabulous weekends I have with actual real-life friends or my exotic college trip to Cuba? I didn't, so I started to make people acquaintances and change my privacy settings. After I had completed this I just had a notion to deactivate my profile. So I did. Eight days ago. And I haven't looked back since.<br /><br />However, I didn't know what type of affect my deactivation could have on the people around me, especially those who are close to me and didn't know what I had done. Cousins of mine noticed and found out I deactivated it, but were looking at themselves for the reason I had deleted it. Was is because of their ridiculous conversations that I get into? No it wasn't, because I actually find their take on everyday life with a family and kids quite entertaining and refreshing. I've heard it all from flues, to vomiting, to toe nails falling off. A male friend of mine had thought that I deleted him and eventually text me and asked me after a load of beers. I told him not to be silly, that I had just deactivated it and so he said he didn't feel stupid anymore.<br /><br />It seems to me that Facebook friendship is becoming more and more real to people. People get upset if you delete them. They think they have done something wrong. I think that people are looking into it too much. I wouldn't notice if someone deleted me or deactivated their own profile, nor would I care. My statuses might have annoyed them or the glorious photos of me having a lovely time on nights out could of angered them because they are constantly sitting on the couch at the weekend, so who am I to judge?<br /><br />So, yes. I deactivated my profile and saw how this affected people more than I thought it would. My friends don't have photos of themselves that I have taken and uploaded anymore too. I know that it is not the last I have seen of Facebook because there will be a time when I want to hop on to chat to someone, but I think that what I was going for was a bit more privacy, and for people to have to make a little bit more of an effort when wanting to contact me.<br /><br />Yes, I am missing out on random gossips and chats and photos that people put up about this and that, but do I really care? Instead of sitting on the computer waiting for someone to upload a new status to my homepage I am being proactive writing this, I am researching things that will help me move on in the world, I am on Twitter so that I can find out information that I have chosen to and that actually interests me.<br /><br />I have taken a stand and I'm wondering how long it will last.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0