bauble

original_jen


Watching the world go by

Books, baking and balls of yarn...


A Welsh spell
zoey grad
original_jen
Well, I'm now officially a graduate of the University of Wales, Aberystwyth. original_jen, BA (Hons). And it was kind of cool, actually, for all the stressing. The ceremony went on for hours, but the bat-cape didn't feel silly at all - more grown-up than anything - and the hat was fine once I'd gripped it firmly to my head. I have no idea what the Vice-Chancellor said when we nodded at him, since it was all in Welsh, but it was good to watch all my friends walk across the stage and clap for them. So I'm glad I went. And I found out what my prize is - money, hurrah! Between £80 and £100 apparently :) I'll have to put it towards something worthwhile... maybe going back and doing an MA!

Miss Margaret Davies is a very nice lady
zoey grad
original_jen
Hee, I got a prize! The Miss Margaret Davies Prize, no less, for being "one of the most distinguished graduates of the year in the department". No idea what the prize actually is (fingers crossed for money, though), and no idea when I get it, but hey, I got a prize! And a very nice letter from Tim Woods, the head of the English department, telling me I got one. *dances* I don't have to share this one either (well, I hope not), unlike the Classics prize I got at school...

Data protection and the wonders of telephone tennis
respectfully no
original_jen
A woman rang my house on Monday, wanting to speak to my dad. Conversation went something like as follows:

Me: He's at work.
Her: Can I have his mobile number?
Me: Can I ask what it's regarding?
Her: It's about an enquiry he made to us - I'm following up.
Me: And what company are you from?
Her: Well, due to Data Protection I can't tell you that.
Me: Well in that case, due to Data Protection I can't give you his mobile number. Bye bye.

Nice man rang up yesterday afternoon, wanting to speak to my dad, saying it was about an enquiry he'd made that they really needed to follow up on. I suspected it was the same company, and told him to ring back today at half 6.

Phone rings at half 8 this morning. The stroppy woman again.

Me: He's at work.
Her: I really need to get hold of him.
Me: Well, as I told your colleague yesterday, ring this evening about half 6. Bye bye.

So tonight, at half 7 (plainly they operate in a different time zone), the man rings, and I pass the phone to my dad. A minute later, he comes back and puts the phone down. Turns out they were one of those debt-resolution type companies, and they thought Dad had made an enquiry last Thursday about entering into an agreement to get rid of his (non-existent) debt - plainly they'd got the number wrong for someone with the same surname. But I think that has to be the best "wrong number" scenario I've had for a while! I'm kind of hoping the woman will ring again tomorrow morning, just for the satisfaction of telling her to go away for once and for all!

Final and conclusive proof that lecturers take mind-altering drugs
cristina yay
original_jen
My degree results came in the post today, completely unexpectedly, and I got my first! Yay! The fact that it was all coursework and I already knew that doesn't detract in the slightest from having the final marks on paper and seeing it written down. The mark for my Writing Project, which was the bane of my life for months on end, is ridiculous - it said "high first" when I got it back, which was great, but kind of hard to define. The border mark for a first is 70, but 80 always seemed like an impossible mark, so how high is "high"? Turns out it means 84! 84! I'm just going to sit here and stare at the paper in stunned disbelief for a while, I think, and wonder what on earth my lecturers have been taking!

Antonio, Antonio, it's raining, it's raining again
buck
original_jen
It's been raining almost solidly for over a week now, with no more than 24 hours' break at a time. When it started, the wheelbarrow in the back garden was empty - this morning, it started overflowing, we've had that much rain. And the ground's full, so things are flooding - fields, paths and roads. This is a picture of the main street in the next village to mine (http://www.bbc.co.uk/nottingham/content/image_galleries/flooding_june_2007_gallery.shtml?46) and our main street looks much the same, only it's chocolate brown from the mud from the fields and it's flowing like a river down the road, bubbling and fountaining over the drains, covering the pavement. Kind of cool, but only if your house is far enough away from the worst of the water and you're not out in the rain. It's cold as well - I wore a winter coat to the shops this afternoon. Where did summer go?
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No, not the Territorial Army
tuck in your shirt
original_jen
I'm currently applying for Teaching Assistant (TA) jobs, having changed career direction yet again. (There's got to be something out there that I want to do that I'm not overqualified for.) There are three things I have to send them: a CV, an application form, and a letter saying why I'm perfect for the job. The application form, though, is basically my CV put into their boxes. And it includes a section where I have to detail the skills and knowledge that make me perfect for the job. I keep getting a strange feeling of deja vu filling it all in. Do you think they'd noticed if I just copied and pasted bits? I could always argue that it was a result of the fact that I'm extremely good at using my time efficiently...
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I see trees of green...
bauble
original_jen
At last, the weather's good enough for gardening! Dad and I have a new tree - an acer - to replace the evil ornamental rhubarb thing that came with the house, and it's beautiful. All leafy and lovely. (Which I appreciate describes many trees, but I feel the alliteration adds something.) Next weekend's job (and no doubt it'll rain now) will be to find some generic bedding plants and put them everywhere there's bare soil. Well, after we've attacked the weeds and actually created some bare soil, anyway. And it will hopefully start to look something like a garden again.

In other news, I have work (after a fashion) to occupy a percentage of my time for the next three weeks. It's only working for my mother's husband again, and only three hours every Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoon, but hey, it's something to tide me over until someone gives me a proper job. As long as I don't eat the peanuts they give me all at once...
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Not so mostly harmless after all
tuck in your shirt
original_jen
Ah, it's Big Brother season again. (For those people living in a nuclear bunker or a foreign country lucky enough to have thus far escaped the plague, Big Brother is a "reality" TV show where they lock a group of desperate people with clashing personalities in a house, film them 24-7, and then let the public evict them one by one until someone "wins".) My thoughts on the whole debacle in previous years have generally been along the lines of "not my cup of tea; mostly harmless waste of time", but I was thoroughly disturbed by something in the paper yesterday. Apparently one of the contestants on the Australian version of BB hasn't been told that her father died last week. The producers have decided not to tell her. I'm sorry, that's not trying to make good television (whether BB could ever be classed as "good" TV is another debate), it's just plain wrong. I hope that when she gets out of the house and finds out, she sues them for every last penny she can screw out of them and hits them where it most hurts - in their bottomless, money-grabbing pockets...

That's my home
bauble
original_jen
I don't live in my flat any more. I left my keys on the kitchen table and shut the door. It's kind of a weird feeling...
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A very long weekend that hopefully won't fly by while I'm having fun...
jd hug
original_jen
I'm back in Aber - surprise! Surprise to me as well, actually, since I didn't intend to be back here till tomorrow, and had booked train tickets according to said intention, but then there was frantic texting due to last-minute boy-stupidity (see strandedinaber's entry) and much angst-ing (which is a word now if it wasn't before) and now I'm here a day before I was going to be. But I am here. Despite the fact that it took me ten minutes to get the ticket machine thingy at Nottingham station (which ironically is called a FastTicket machine) to give me my tickets this morning. (It's a good job I'm habitually half an hour early.) It kept refusing my debit card, but then accepted it, only to refuse it again when I asked it for the next set of tickets. Ridiculous thing. The fact that buying two tickets (Nottingham to Birmingham, then Birmingham to Aber separately) is cheaper than buying one Nottingham-Aber ticket is also ridiculous. But I'm back in Aber, and 'tis good. Am not staying at the flat, because it'd be all empty and weird, but still. I'll hopefully get to see everybody in the next 5 days, and I can pick up my Writing Project and my last essay, both of which have apparently been marked. 'Tis much better than sitting round at home alternately twiddling my thumbs and applying for jobs I'm overqualified to do that no one wants to give me...

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