Careless in the community

Do the hassle

by Emsbabee ^Pro @ 2009-11-10 – 16:24:52

Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition. Especially if back in those hazy, halcyon days of Year 11 when somebody asked what you wanted to be and you poked around briefly in the recesses of your mind for an answer and came out with 'pirate' or 'storm chaser' or 'Jordan'. And then that somebody wondered if you would mind filling out this form with all your details, and they had a big shiny badge and lots of leaflets, so you thought it was probably a legitimate request.

Especially if you've forgotten all about that form, and indeed that meeting until one day, as autumn sets in, you are suddenly bombarded with a series of increasingly frantic phonecalls, which if you fail to respond to, are interspersed with weekly letters and then, people start coming to your house, flashing their big shiny badges and demanding answers. You don't expect it, do you?

Except it's not the Spanish inquisition. It's government targets which have been set and so must be met, every young person in the area must be hounded into a corner and pumped for information. The company I'm now working for are under strict and implicit instructions to track down and sort out every single NEET in this 'ere county, whether they like it or not. Usually not. But it's all about the numbers. Not an ethos I'm entirely comfortable with.

Oh well. Principles and mounting bills seldom mix, and I just bought a new bed.

Public self-service announcement.

by Emsbabee ^Pro @ 2009-11-09 – 16:15:28

I'm helping The Hussy to compile a weekly newsletter. I'll forgive you for thinking such things are usually the stuff of parishes. Church socials and that sort of thing.

Hopefully our efforts will be slightly more compelling, each week we base the contents round a theme and then charge ahead and big up or slag off whatever happens to be going on, and fits in with that theme. Last week's was pyromania (that was tough one to compile) because of Bonfire Night, this week's is trash because the bin men are on strike. You see? Topical.

If you'd like to subscribe (and if you ain't local, then I completely understand why you wouldn't) then you can go here. There is also a modest amount of free stuff to be won every week, which you can always dangle in front of enthusiastic E-Bay bidders if you can't find use for it yourself.

I thank you.

How to make an entrance

by Emsbabee ^Pro @ 2009-11-05 – 15:36:28

I'm sure most of us have indulged in a brief fantasy about our own funeral. It'd be nice to know how it went down. Would there be scenes at the church reminiscent of the first day of the January sales, as devastated masses flocked to say their farewells? Or would the vicar have the whole thing wrapped up in ten minutes? Would you warrant a eulogy, or just a brief amen? Might there be fireworks? Or sausage rolls?

Well, there is one sure-fire way to find out, for anybody who really, really needs to know, and isn't all that bothered about putting their nearest and dearest through the wringer. Have yourself presumed dead, allow your next of kin to wrongly identify your body, watch them snap into action and organise the ceremony, then simply show up and do a quick head count. Like this guy.

Which to be fair, isn't exactly what happened. But I suspect that the temptation to rock up and see how his family had chosen to mark his passing was just to great an opportunity to ruin with a phone call - 'Hi, I'm not dead, let's call the whole thing off.' I know I'd have to go and have a look. And if it did turn out to be a ten minute, ashes in a jam jar affair, well, start a new life, make some new friends and hope that they will care enough to turn up for your next funeral.

The original Meme

by Emsbabee ^Pro @ 2009-10-27 – 15:25:36

I keep every e-mail ever sent to me. I didn't know why until now. It turns out that I was subconsciously saving them for a time when I would decide to trawl through them all in lieu of anything better to do, in lieu of a CRB check which would allow me to actually start doing this job they are paying me quite well to...not do.

Anyway, back in 2004, those misty archaic days before Facebook, when MySpace was just hatching out and catching on, prior to blogging becoming a popular sport - when it just wasn't all that easy to witter incessantly about yourself to a virtual and in some cases imaginary audience - this was the kind of thing you'd have to resort to. The mass mail out. I found the one below this morning. I read it with escalating joy.

I've no idea what happened to this man, or why I was on his mailing list, as to the best of my knowledge, I have never met him. I was living in London in 2004, maybe he was just e-mailing the entire population of the city?

Anyway, what follows is an aspirational tale that's just too good not to share:

"Hi guys,

As per normal, the usual excuses for not writing to you all individually,
I'll get around to it one day (yeah right!). Anyway, since my last email
I've had an amazing summer, and now I seem to be settled in with a good job. So here I am to fill you in and make you all jealous.

As always there are loads of pics on my website at http://www.konitzer.co.uk

Graduation might be a laugh http://www.konitzer.co.uk/graduation

But go through the site as I've added loads and can't list them all here.
Continually updating it with a back catalog as well as new pics.

I seem to remember I left off the last email with a description of our Uni lake party, that as 'Mad Bill', I masterminded. Well I went home for a couple of weeks and relaxed and started the search for a job. However, that didn't last long as the Gents of St. John's at Cambridge had their yearly garden party. An event I attended with relish as I was able to catch up with a lot of old faces and meet a lot of new ones. The day after this I went down to Joss bay in Kent for the one and only Joss Bay 2004. What can I say, this party was amazing. Organised by Mental, it was a 24-hour mash up on a beach. Matt B & I provided the sound and electricity to kick start the party. Had a huge fire, beach games, dancing, a barbecue, and I even managed to drag some old faces along from London at the last minute. I particularly remember playing beach football the next day and getting badly burnt. On the way home we were rushing to watch the England vs France game, but unfortunately the car broke down. So you can imagine us by the side of the road, getting various cars to toot as they went by, all in support of England. Eventually the cops turned up to give us some grief, but just then
the RAC man arrived, so all was good.

Next up it was Monday and off to Garter day at Windsor, another opportunity to catch up with some old friends and sit out on the grass eating strawberries and cream as the Queen paraded by.

A few days after this was Tim D's birthday, so you can imagine the craziness there. Actually, it was fairly contained as the next day we had graduation. So off I went to lunch with my family followed by the ceremony in Guildford Cathedral. After this we had the graduation ball, which consisted of a fair-ground, followed by dancing until the next morning. I guess it's a shame that a lot of people I might not see again. That was my 4 years at Guildford, gone just like that (well almost as you'll see!). Hats off to Emily for telling me that she "can't stand it when I'm nice" When am I ever not nice?

Grad Ball was followed rapidly by an after party at Matt B's House and then straight on to Glastonbury.

Well what can I say, Glastonbury - amazing. If you have never been, so have no idea what you've been missing out on. I met old faces, new faces and had a brilliant time. Special shout out must go to Mills, Simon and their crew. I saw all the best bands - Chemical Bros, Scissor Sisters, Paul McCartney, and Orbital but to name a few. However, my favourite must be 'A Man called Adam' who provided the opening Thursday with some great music and who I've been friends with ever since.

So highlights (cause otherwise I'll be here forever):

Watching our gazebo get destroyed in the gales

Doing crazy competitions at the dating tent

Seeing the 60000+ people watching an England match in a field (I've never
seen so many people)

Watching dawn come up at the stone circle

Going to 'Lost Vagueness'

Seeing all the bands

Dancing with Nat and friends into the early hours

Watching Crazy Si go nuts.

Meeting up with Nicola who I hadn't seen in ages.

Watching the ENO perform

But best of all, making a whole load of new mates

Glasto ended on a high with my having to rush to Guildford to go on a
chamber choir tour. I wasn't really in a fit state, but off I went anyway. So I went to Freiburg. If you have never been, I can say its amazing (as seems to be everywhere I go these days). A town where every 60% of the population are students (I think that's right), but it's a lot.so you can imagine the shenanigans I got up to. Did a lot of wonderful singing in amazing churches, showed Germans how to drink flaming B52s properly and also went to some bizarre underground club and the spa baths.

Got back and went for an assessment day at Llloyds TSB, but didn't get the job. Hats off to those of you who did. Funish day looking back!

The return from Germany consisted of a few days off before embarking on the Ibiza experience 2004. What can I say - probably the best holiday of my life. Apart from having my luggage misplaced on the way over for a few days, it was all plain sailing. Amazing beaches, gorgeous women, fun parties, the best clubs in the world.Cream at Amnesia was by far the best night we hit. Tiesto followed by Paul Van Dyke, combine this with an fantastic crowd, an excellent venue and good mates, and you know the night is something you'll never forget. I also made a whole bunch of good friends out there. The hotel was a bit minging, but hell, it was supposed to be a cheap holiday. I think without a doubt the fav hangout, apart from the beach, was the bar "Plastic Fantastic" - it played good music and the vibe was right. The strip was a place to avoid (and don't go to play 2). Guys remember me waking you up with the crazy worker people at 7am?..ha.

Anyway with Ibiza quickly fading into the distance for another year, I got offered a position as Head of Technical facilities in the Dept. of Language and Comm Science at City Uni. However, I ended up taking a job with Data Connection.

August was a month of sorting out stuff at home. A Warp Records Boat party (and you know that's good), followed by a crazy weekend at V fest. Sadly I don't think it was a good as Glasto, but I haven't laughed so hard in ages - the girls we were camping with took the living piss out of my friend Simon.It was immensely funny and he was very good humoured about it considering. I can't really remember much about V, apart from helping Roger and Si to get into the campsite and the festival for free, and then spending a lot of time in the StrongBow Tent, and the Red Light District Tent. I did get to bump into "A Man called Adam" again, oh and I can recommend not trying to drive to Tesco's on the first day of the festival as the roads are crammed.

I started a job at Data Connection at the beginning of Sep, working for the interoperability group in their MetaSwtich devision. In a nutshell I test phones to make sure they will work with the telephone exchange equipment we make. I still do recording as a freelance thing and hopefully we'll transfer CAGL to London. Plans are afoot for an amazing night to take London by storm.

D.C. is a good company to work for and their bizarrely seem to be quite a
few singers in it that I know already, so it's obviously a place to suit me.

However, I'm currently liing in Enfield and that's not so good. The local
knows me far too well as there doesn't seem to be much else to do. Actually what happened was the company had a lot of starter and leaving drinks around the time I joined, so the manager became convinced I was going to live down there. I have yet to return and that was two weeks ago. If the truth be known, I was slightly taken with the bar maid.

Catherine Backhouse, must get a mention for throwing a gathering down Vibe Bar and then dragging a whole bunch of fun people I hadn't seen in ages. Always the same catching up. Keep it up guys.

I guess that brings us to the final story. I did a recording of Xmas carolsand ended up singing in it, just blagging my way as I seem to be apt to. This was followed by a massif night out with Will V at the Ministry, followed by a trip to the church, from whence I went (with a load of random Kiwi's) back to Guildford for Fresher's Sunday (or Fresher's funday as I call it - read between the lines). Great to meet up with some old faces(even people like Karen, who I think would prefer me to be far, far away). Gawd knows what happened to the random Kiwi's though. They got kicked out of everywhere. Lots of old faces, hell, even the half the Ibiza crew was there, and the Joss Bay lot. Steph and Em must get a special mention for being the most interesting Freshers.though Matt C.you are a bad boy. Crazy goings on, running around campus singing Ronan and Green day, getting kicked out of 2
kitchens, breaking into a few more.but hell it's not like my day as everyone was in bed by 1am - even HOUSE 45. What was going on? Dunc gave me a couch to crash on and I ended kicking around for the whole of Monday. Joined the "Cereal Appreciation Society", which consists of going down the pub and eating cereal and drinking beer.amazing.what a great idea for a society. Completely pointless just like student socs should be. Went to visit the old haunts (which still smell just as bad) and having one of the best nights out ever down the union (oh sorry, Rubiks as it's now called). Those dancing girls were amazing. Wow, if it carries on like that I'll be down every week.

There is the usual crazy story afterwards too. Ahh what memories, however, I can tell you getting the 5am train and then working was not such a good thing.

Well, that's a very brief outline. There are a lot of gaps, but you can
probably fill in most of them yourself if you know me well enough). That
means reading between the lines everywhere possible :-) ). If not give me a buzz, email or come round one night. Hopefully I'm moving to central London within a month, so yes, everyone must let me know what you're up to and come and meet up. I've got so much juicy gossip & stories to tell that I can't fir in an email (I'll get done!f). However, maybe I should whack it all down in a novel. Light reading at its most lighthearted.

Till the next one.

Love Will xx

P.S. Sorry it's all a bit messy and random but I had limited net time."

Hey there if you've managed to join me here at the bottom. Quite a ride wasn't it? That Will. What a guy! What a summer! Wonder if he ever wrote that novel?

The ominous damp patch

by Emsbabee ^Pro @ 2009-10-22 – 10:04:39

My vegetarian sensibilities took something of a knock this morning. I was on the train, headphones screaming, when I noticed the unmistakeable tang of reasonably fresh urine (when you work in social care, you quickly become able to identify just how long that damp patch has been there according to smell, it's a bit like swirling and sniffing an elusive glass of wine).

There was nobody sat next to me to blame, which was my first thought, given that I've had people sitting next to me on trains doing pretty much everything else, including pleasuring themselves under their hastily arranged anorak. So I laid the blame firmly with the train itself and ignored it. Again, something you quickly learn to do when you work in social care.

But when I got off the train, and into work, to find that the smell had followed me, I started getting a bit paranoid. Had somebody taken a leak on me on the way in without my noticing? Stranger things have happened (see above).

I reached into my bag for my diary. It was damp. As was my hairbrush. My keys. The bag itself was damp. On closer inspection, it carried the unmistakable tang of reasonably fresh urine....and that's when I realised that the cat next door, the under-nourished toothless old man cat that I've been letting in at night out of pity and mashing up sardines for, had given me the moggy equivalent of the middle finger by pissing in my bag. I feel violated. And a bit daft.

That's it. The RSPCA aren't going to squeeze another drop out of me. When those terrible adverts featuring kittens left in bins appear on TV, I won't mute them and blink back the tears as usual, I shall turn them up and laugh heartily. HEARTILY. And if old man cat shows up tonight, I'm calling security. And I might buy a bumper pack of ham on my way home tonight.