Start On Wednesday

Don't know what to wear. Oh dear.

Aural Invasion: Accompaniment to City Life

The development of mobile telephones as multimedia devices is a mini revolution. You can send email, browse the web, capture those precious moments where you find yourself without your camera, cam-corder (to experience fireworks through the screen of your phone is second to none, except maybe actually watching them) or dictaphone, listen to music and share it with those around you!
In the supermarket, on the bus, in the pub (though this will likely have you asked to present some form of identification, confirming that you are under-age, and that you are the cause of my eternal frown) walking down the street, or even just sat on a wall, having a smoke, outside my flat.
I'd like to believe that were these tinny-music dependent teens trailing around with a 10lb ghetto blaster skilfully balanced on their skinny shoulders, I'd be more appreciative of their somewhat random taste in music, but better speakers does not better music make. To have bland noise branded on the sensitive ear-drum of a connoisseur such as I (and most of the other people my age around here)would be infinitely more damaging than a moment of sound grazing ones earlobe.

The most public transport fun to be had this festive season, is to sing along to other peoples mp3 players, that have headphones plugged in. Either we're going deaf or headphones are growing more leaky as they shrink (though still not small enough to stay in my ears) But no-one will give you a look quite like the person sat opposite you, quietly listening to Christina Aguilera, as you look out the window and sing along.

EXPERIENCE

The notorious blagger isn't too sure that they will be able to take on the opportunity that will be presented in January without fucking it up. A lot. It's strange how something a person does with great regularity can still scare them. A lot.
Maybe should stop trying to be and get used to existing.

Darn You With a Needle

"The things I put online are almost certainly not the whole story of me. We all have things we wouldn't want our neighbors, families, or bosses to know. I'll bet that you behave different around you're grandmother than you do your drinking buddies. Which one is the real you? We all have facets to our persona's. The one I share online is only part of me."


I tend to agree with this.

I'm generally quite adept at comparing myself with others;
i.e. judging who I am on an equal footing with, and those
that I can consider inferior or superior to me.
Sometimes good or bad experiences and memories can colour
our opinion of another.
Sometimes one can find that one is regarded higher in
comparison to another, higher than one would regard oneself.
I'm pretty good at blagging, but I don't enjoy feeling like
a con.
I don't like being 'placed above my station'
I don't like unrealistic expectation.
I don't like not being believed when I correct a
misconception about me.
I don't like being put on a pedestal.

WELL...

There's a spot that has begun a pilgrimage across my face, so am doing my utmost to support it in it's quest, especially considering the harsh weather conditions it will be facing, what with the predicted 100mph winds and blizzards of such force unseen in living memory.
Other than that I've got some work experience, some work, and some general confusion, and to keep it all stuck together, a squidgy lil tummy ache. AWW.

I've Run Out of Things to Think About

I don't know what to do.

Below, I have copy/pasted 3 sections from an application form I'm attempting to fill in. With these 3 sections, I know not what to do:

Chart

Please draw a chart showing your position in your present or most recent organisation

Interests

What general interests to you have outside your work?

Experience

Please use this space to give further details of your training, experience and other skills in support of your application (additional sheets may be attached as necessary).

It would appear that one is descending into the banal, since one cannot locate ones rant mechanism in order to write something displaying a personality, passion or potential.
And one is incapable of gainfully employing ones enthusiasm and turning it to a new venture.

I regret to say, it would appear, one has regressed, and become an Emo, or a Bored, possibly a Discontent, or even an Overly Content (since one strives for nothing more).

It's vicious, and not even a real problem, which I suppose makes it all the more crippling.

Ach

Fuck it.