Good things come to those who wait!

Yep it's been eons since last post. But what a way to break the blogging drought - i'm getting married! To the lovely damo! Guess that means i'm becoming a duchess ;-)

Wimbledon - court one!

Love this being a freelancer thing ;-) got up early with les to come to wimbledon today. We amazingly got the second last tickets to court one for the men's quarter finals! Will be seeing marat safin play lopez as soon as the rain has stopped. Ha first day rain has interrupted play all tournament. Me and les have been amusing ourselves with watching pat cash warm up, star spotting the williams sisters and watching aussie junior tomic slaughter his brit opponent. We also doing some serious hot bod spotting! Ooh we are third row from the court - we are sooo gonna be on tv!

Ha! Drunk lots at farewell do

Feeling jolly hope all is well with you

wooohoo

Last day today! woohoo! Woke up this morning at 4:30am and thought to myself "yes, I've made it".

This is a bizarre feeling. I am just so excited. I must be deluded!

Self indulgent post ahead

Oooh, I'm so excited about everything today.

It's been ages since I've blogged, but that's because I've been plotting how to change my life.

It's been prompted a little by signs I saw on the tube earlier this year when the winter was getting me down, and my job was getting me down... The sign said "If you don't like your life, change it." I mulled it over for a long time and finally decided (while in Morocco) to do just that. Well, not in a hugely drastic way: I've not shaved my head, grown my pits and moved to Goa. I've just decided to not renew my contract in my current job.

As much as I've grumbled about it, I've really enjoyed this job. The people have been lovely. It's been flexible. It's challenged me and I've learnt loads and loads. But there's always been this nagging feeling that I've not done what I always thought I would do. Soooooo... I'm going to take a little time out to pursue a few projects. Hopefully some writing.

I figure now is the time to take the risk. I'm still in my 20s. I don't have a mortgage and I don't have a family of my own. That leaves me a considerable amount of freedom to attempt a career change.

Funnily enough, when I told my boss my decision, it was like I finally believed I was good at what I do (in my day job). Funny how it takes leaving for people to tell you how great they think you are. (Bit like a wake?) I've had a real ego boost of late, and I've been surprised by the number of opportunities and offers that are presenting themselves to me. My confidence has had a real boost. And that's made me feel ok about my decision. Because if it doesn't work, or if I decide I don't like my 'projects', then I can go back into the field I'm in.

So, I'm in my second last day of work. And while I still have loads to do (my goodness my inbox management is hopeless, and I'm seriously the world's worst filer), I am just so excited about what lies ahead. Whatever that may be.

Oh, and it has been the most glorious blue sky, warm sunny weather lately. A perfect summery June. And that makes me happy too.

That's not my name.

Jaimee is back from the Westminster reunion.

She's a bit pissy but it was fun. Lots of old faces. Noice.

Jaimee knows she hasn't updated since going to Morocco.

oops.

But she had fun. And was sick. So didn't gain any holiday weight. Always good. ;)

She has a new hair cut too. Cheesy photo to illustrate.

Seriously though, Jaimee wants you to know that Morocco rocked. She loved it.

And that since she got back to London, she's quit her job.

Well, she may be dramatising it a bit (not at all like her to do so!). Her contract was up for renewal. And she decided to not renew. So that's pretty much quitting. She's going to "see what happens". She's still got four weeks yet though.

Anyway, so tonight she went out and hung out with old faces. Almost four years. OMG. And didn't have any dinner.

She thinks she's home early compared to the early London days. But they ended up in Infernos. She hasn't been there for a few years. Last time was with Cath and Nicky. And she heard that Queen song Don't stop me now. That's a Cath song that is.

There was some podium dancing tonight. Laura was up there too. Why not?! Ha ha. Jaimee is 28. She is way cooler than those 18 yos with their image issues. And was having too much fun to care how she looked. Especially compared to little miss r 'n b filmclip wannabe with shorts too short and jelly thighs.

meow.

heh heh. Jaimee remembers that that place is a dive. seriously.

She didn't get to hear her fave song. Which is the one in the title. By the Ting Tings.

Oooooops, the those fish fingers burning. She thinks mmmmn. Fish Fingers.

Picture:

That's for you Amelie! :))))))))

A Moroccan puppy.

And just two quick tasters of Marrakech. There was 400 more pics. Jaimee will upload more soon :)

boy i'm stuffed

I've just finished work for a week and a bit - am off to morocco. I can't wait. But i'm almost too stuffed to be excited. Just the usual. Work really.

here's some pics of Mr & Mrs Swan and the signets (Mr Swan has the big lump on his beak and is the one that chases the geese while Mrs Swan is nesting):

PS: been loads of places lately - for pleasure we went to Dover in Feb, Italy in March and then Broadstairs in Kent just last weekend. For work I've been to Bristol, Leeds and Manchester. Once I've got a little more time up my sleeves, I'll post.

Oh man, I'm so tired.

Hurrah for Spring!

Yay, I think Spring is finally here. After all that big talk about me coping "really well with the Winter" well I kind of let the weather get the better of me, got pretty grumpy and decided best not to write about it.

Don't get me wrong, was plenty of nice stuff happening, but work was (still is) full on and I've started a new hobby (travel writing) which meant I've been neglecting the blog. Anyway, enough of that. I'll just post a couple of quick pics below of the lovely spring weather in Hyde Park.

Ooh, and just want to clarify, Damo isn't really a Duke.

And double oooh, Mr & Mrs Swan of Tooting Common pond have had their little bubs again (yes I know, they're called signets). Seven this year! We saw them just a moment ago and they're really new. Like, just tiny little black beaks all huddled in a ball of grey cotton wool. Adorable! I love spring! Sadly didn't have my camera with me so you'll have to take my word for how cute they were. Mr & Mrs Swan looked justifiably proud.

The under-7s football team

Every Sunday Tooting Common is overtaken with zillions of football-boot clad tykes playing the "beautiful sport". Generally I find it quite humbling 'cause I usually see them zipping about as I'm huffing and puffing (err, jogging) my way round the green.

Anyway, we had some extremely unseasonal snow this weekend - it was so cold and heavy that I think it turned all those little tykes into snowmen. Some of them were cuter than others as you can see.

As for me, well I'd normally be quite excited about snow. That is, if it snowed when it was supposed to. Given that we had started to have some quite nice weather (ie temps in late teens) the drop down to the near 0 mark made me a very grumpy girl!

Farewell BaM

Ah, I developed a lovely habit a little too late - every Sunday for the past few weeks I've been driving over to Chiswick to spend Sunday evening with Michelle and Ben (be it in their flat, at dinner or comedy in the theatre at Gunnersbury).

But now, they're off back home and I'm a sad little vegemite. Best of luck dudes! I know you'll love being back home :)

Here's a few pics from their farewell party:

Nicky, Ben, Mich

Damo, Mich, Me, Davo

The bookclub girls - Kim, Gabrielle, Les, Mich

Me and Mich

Mich, Davo and Me

Kittens vs ladybirds

Damian has never had proper pets.


Well, ok, he had a rabbit called Thumper and a budgie called Sam. But I don't think they count.


I think he needs a proper pet. Like a nice fluffy kitten. I think it's a matter of urgency given how fond he's grown really of the ladybirds that are hibernating in our lounge room.


They've set up house in the corner by the warmth of our halogen lamp. There's at least 20 of them. And they've slowly been waking from their slumber and exploring our ceiling.
Damian is enraptured and has decided they're our new pets. We don't need a kitten, he says, when we've got ladybirds!


He has lots of fun when he gets home in the evenings, counting them, remarking on how far they've travelled that day. Sometimes he gets excited when they've moved close to the window. He wants to help them be free and sings "flyaway ladybirds" like a lullaby.


Sometimes he's tried to help them out himself, but they generally just fall to the ground and get lost on our red coloured carpet. So we'll be there on our hands and knees, looking for fallen ladybirds. And we don't end up finding them. He says he hopes they're ok. I'm sure they are.


He says they've become his pets. I've tried to reason with him. He can't pat them the way you can a kitten. The closest he's got is poking them with our vacuum cleaner nozzle to check they weren't spiders.


There are times when I have to console him when we smell burning coming from our hallogen lamp and discovered that a ladybird or two has mistaken it for the sun :(


At least kittens will interact. And let you pat them. And are unlikely to commit suicide by flying into a light bulb.

Happy Chinese New Year

Well, Thursday nights are the new Fridays, and Monday nights are the new Saturdays. You've heard me say similiar things before.

Thurs night was another meeting of Balham Babes (don't ask me -Davo's idea ;) - this time at Firefly on the High Road. A good night! Nice to see everyone and hear all the news.

The weekend you've just read about. Monday night we went to a fundraise at a comedy club on Tattershall's Castle (a boat permanently moored on the Thames). Fun, but I was tired. Not the spring chicken I used to be ;)

Tues and Wed nights have been non-exciting - but tonight I'm off to celebrate Chinese New Year with Beth and co out in Acton. It'll be the first time I will have ever tried lobster so I'm very excited.

PS: an update - the lobster was good!

Duke Damo and real posh stuff

So, what's been happening? How can I make my life sound way more exciting than it really is.... hmmmm...

I won't tell you how I spent both Friday and Saturday nights in over the weekend. That wouldn't live up to the glittering Big Overseas Experience illusion...

And I won't go in to too much detail about how Saturday afternoon was just a cruisy lunch at Blue Pumpkin cafe in Balham, followed by some aimless wandering about the shops in Clapham Junction. And I won't bother to tell you that the most exciting thing I bought was a couple of Women's Weekly cook books.

[Da da da daaaah, da de dahh, da de dahhhhhhh... picture mist and fog and abra-cadabra music and stuff and you've jumped back in time and are re-reading my blog forgetting all that you have just read... the words that follow are the true reality of my life...]

Over the weekend, Damian fulfilled his promise to take me to his little "week-ender".

I've not mentioned it previously, but Damo is a Duke (of Surrey) and has three stuffy Victorian middle names to prove it - Arthur, Edward and Greg. He's pretty shy about it so you won't hear him go on about how rich he is and stuff.

Anyway, the week-ender is called Polesden Lacey and it's about an hour's drive from where we are down in to the county of Surrey.

It's a grand old dame of a house - the Queen Mother even honeymooned there. Beautiful grounds too - hundreds of hectares of woodlands and manicured gardens and croquet lawns and stuff. The cooks served us a wonderful roast lunch.

I know, I know... you're probably wondering why we live in a shoe box in Balham when clearly life could be so much more comfortable if upped sticks and moved to the country.

Well, think about that song from Pulp about common people and stuff. Damo wants to be like common people. He wants to do things that common people do ;) Like work and stuff. And commute. And hear his neighbours stomp around at all hours. Yeah.

That's me overlooking the croquet lawn daaaahhhhling.

A day in the life of Jaimee

07:45 Jaimee is wishing she could stay home today.

07:51 Jaimee is dancing in the shower.

07:52 Jaimee is daydreaming about sunny, exotic locations.

07:53 Jaimee is happy she caught up with Nicky for dinner in Clapham Junction last night.

09:15 Jaimee is at work after a painful commute.

09:59 Jaimee is annoyed at the dude next to her picking his ear and sniffing it.

11:07 Jaimee is bored.

12:15 Jaimee is off to lunch with Michelle and Stacey.

13:40 Jaimee is too reliant on caffiene.

13:45 Jaimee is feeling slothful.

13:46 Jaimee is feeling sleepy.

14:00 Jaimee is hyper thanks to latte. Go caffiene!!

14:05 Jaimee is addicted to poppy seed bagels.

15:47 Jaimee is grossed out by ear-picking guy who has now added nose picking to his reportoire.

16:30 Jaimee is looking forward to drinks at Balham Babes tonight.

16:31 Jaimee is looking forward to the staff away day tomorrow - yay a bludge!!

16:32 Jaimee is thinking she needs to get a life.

17:05 Jaimee is wondering how to stop her brain thinking about her life in terms of Facebook status updates.

Grumpy cow post

Argh, feeling frustrated today. About career generally. Am pretty tired too after massive weekend and not sleeping so well last night. Today is officially the first appearance of "Grumpy Jaimee" for 2008.

I know, I know. 2008 is gonna be great, right?!

Well yeah. Blah blah blah. Would have slapped someone down if they told me that this morning after missing a couple of trains due to overcrowding/fog/pushy people, losing my oyster card, my staff card (think I left them in Malta) and tearing a big hole in my tights (which I HATE wearing because they make my legs itchy).
_________________


(Warning, self indulgent rant here - all prospective employers stop reading now...)

Problem with my career is that I'm never the expert in what I'm talking about.


I have a set of skills - a trade I guess you could say - and then I've got to apply those skills to lots to different subjects.


For example, right now, I'm using my skills to help communicate about Field X. There is sooooo much I don't know about Field X even after working in present job for almost 18 months.

I have never been "Field X" worker like most of my colleagues. And come end of March when my current contract ends, there's a big chance I won't work in Field X again. Guess that's just the way it is when you're a contractor and you have my set of skills.

So logic would have it that I should focus on improving my skills set so I can continue to apply them to different subjects.


Like, maybe I should really give it more than just two hoots about them and really invest in joining a professional body/institute and networking and further learning blah blah blah...


But for how many years have I been going on and on and on about how I'm just not in to what I'm doing?


Just needed to get that off my chest.

Malta Madness ;)

I never considered Malta to be a party destination but I was obviously uninformed given my waaay huggggee weekend with Michelle.

Michelle and I at dinner on Spinola Bay, St Julian's on the Saturday night.

We went so we could spend some quality time together before Mich heads back home.

We expected a bit of a wintersun break with loads of chatting and shopping and sightseeing and we got plenty of that. What we didn’t expect was:

# to meet so many fun people without even trying (three Swedes on a bit of bender who entertainingly crashed our lunch and wanted to take us bowling);

The view of Valletta across the bay from Sliema, Malta's main shopping area

# go bar hopping with a bunch of nice Americans who we met at dinner (they were seated next to us and we managed to strike up a conversation – it wasn't as sleazy as it sounds).

# being given a midnight tour of Paceville (or Partyville as Ben described it) and seeing why the streets were so empty during the day.

Me on Sunday afternoon, hungover, but with a bellyful of pizza, gelati and the sun on my skin.

# ending up in a sophisticated* nightclub on the 22nd floor of the Hilton office building (that our American friends insisted would be just our scene), drinking from our very own bottle of Smirnoff black and cute little mixers (courtesy of our friends), at our own private table (courtesy of our friends), admiring the best views of Malta and dancing until 4am.

# me throwing up twice the next morning. I should know better than that by now.

So, apart from me throwing up and Michelle having to listen to it, we had a lot of fun!

Other bonuses were:

# staying at my first ever European 5* hotel "Le Meridian St Julians" (being mid Winter there were loads of cheap deals).

Michelle and I walking around Valetta's city walls on Saturday.

# exploring the quiet streets of caramel coloured Valetta – a world heritage listed town.

# enjoying a really fabulous dinner overlooking Spinola Bay – the yummiest beef and red wine I’ve had in a long time

Spinola Bay, St Julian's at dusk. Beautiful!

# eating pizza and drinking pepsi for breakfast on Sunday morning (best hangover cure ever)

# spending the afternoon sitting in the sunshine, eating gelati and talking about everything and nothing with Michelle.

** for “sophisticated” and “more our scene”, read venue for the 30 – 45 age bracket. This made Michelle and I a teeny weeny bit paranoid. Are we looking old? Can we no longer cut it with the 20-somethings in all the other clubs? Ha. Was a bit of a laugh though, especially when the lift doors opened and we saw all these monied sugar daddies reclining like kings on leather sofas while the chicky babes just kind of ponced and posed about the place. It was the kind of place you'd never find if you didn't know about it.

Mich at the bottom of some steep steps in Valetta.

Cheating

Was babbling on to Damo about how I've managed to not let the Winter get to me just yet, and he just laughed.

Cynically he declared (in my best attempt to type "Northern"):

"Threah wee's en Australeah?! A wee'end en Malta? (haven't told you guys about that yet) Survive-ging the Winter? Bah! Yoor jus' cheat-ging, tha's wha' yoor doe-in! Naught lark meh. Bunkerin' down for the Winter. Oc'ober thru March. I'm stayin' righ 'ere. Arm from the Nurth. Arm tuff. Yoor jus' soft, tha's wha' yoor arrr!"

All said while eyes are twinkling so he's being nice about it ;)

But yep, back precisely one week and three days and already set to fly back out again.
This time it's a girly weekend with Michelle in Malta (small island nation in the Meditteraean - currently sunny and 15 degrees - balmy!) Have found an absolute bargain last flight/accom package through my fave website expedia.co.uk.

Seems a bit excessive that I'm going away again so soon, but Mich and Ben are heading home for good soon so squeezing in as much fun stuff as we can.

PS: congrats to Cath and Grant on their new little arrival :)!

A dirty secret

I like the food from our staff canteen.

This is terribly embarrassing to admit to.

It’s much cooler to tell your colleagues that you know this fab little organic vegan café down the road (Coopers on the Cut) and they do a great soup and salad for £7 than to confess you head down to the fluro-lit basement to get your soup for 75p.

Am particularly enjoying the porridge with apricots this morning. Mmmmmm.

S-A-D

Hmmm... it appears that the jet lag is taking a little longer to wear off than I thought.

Been back a week and not achieved anything remarkable... well, except for remaining sunnily optimistic in the face of London's gloom.

2008 is gonna be great, 2008 is gonna be great, 2008 is gonna be great.

Actually, having had my 3-week Brissy summer, I’ve really noticed my fellow Londoner’s SAD (seasonal affective disorder). I’ve been chirpily wishing all my colleagues a Happy New Year when seeing them again, and they’ve all been moaning about how long ago it all feels now. People are just plain depressed.

I get SAD all the time, so I’m not going to take the high-ground about it, but I feel lucky that I had a break from the winter. Will hang to the feeling as long as I can.
_______________________________

Sat and Sun were pretty low key. Trekked up North for a less-than-successful shopping expedition to London's first (and oldest) indoor shopping mall in Brent Cross (about 45 mins on the tube from Balham).

The point was to help Damo buy a new suit in the sales. We spent a couple of hours in Zara searching for right sizes, colours blah blah blah only to be foiled at the last hurdle by a price check on an item that had a sales tag, but apparently was “not for sale”. Given that we'd waited in the queue foooorevvvvvveeeer - watching staff and customers faff about in slow motion - it was enough to make us throw our hands up in desperation and leave without buying anything.

Even my shoe hunting went amiss. I had found the *perfect* right foot, black, knee-high boot at Nine West. Gorgeous. All leather. Appropriately sized heel. Padded instep. Half price. Then the sales girl told me they were missing the left one. It just wasn’t meant to be.

We did resurrect the evening though by exploring trendy Camden on our way home. Checked out a funky little Vietnemese place, strolled the busy streets and saw "Charlie Wilson's War" at the local cinema.

Sunday wasn't very exciting. Had planned to buy a laptop, but was foiled by the miserable weather and overwhelming urge to sleep. Did catch up with Davo though for a coffee in Balham.

Goal driven ramblings

When I get off my train, there's a bus stop right outside the station. It's the start of Route 315 towards Streatham. Leaving every 20 minutes, the 315 does a lap around the high street before heading up the road towards my place, stopping three times before it reaches the end of my street. Depending on traffic, the whole journey takes around 5 minutes compared to the 12 it usually takes to walk it (longer when wearing heels).

Anyway, the point of this really boring story is that sometimes I get so bored walking the same walk, day in, day out, that I decide I'm going to race the 315 home. To make things *interesting*, I give myself an imaginery financial incentive. Starting at zero pounds, I get £1000 for every bus stop I beat the bus to. I can win a grand total of £3000 and if I turn into my street before the bus gets to that third bus stop, then I give myself a bonus £2000.

I beat the bus home tonight. It was very exciting.

Someone once told me that this little competion I have with the bus means I'm goal oriented. Wonder if I can use it as an example next time I go for a job interview?
___________________

Just got home after a productive Friday. Went to a conference this morning - left early 'cause I hated the small talking during the breaks (goal for 2008 - get better at networking - failed today but there's always tomorrow).

Continued to be a lady who lunched and met Damo at Pizza Express (goal for 2008 - take lunch to work - failed today but there's always next week), followed by a spot of sales shopping at Zara. Bought a gorgeous charcoal matt satin dress with beaded embroidery for £20 (reduced from £70!) (goal for 2008 - keep buying bargains - did well today)

Meandered back to work, but not before stopping for a chat with Damo's mate Emil, who I bumped into outside Waterloo station.

Faffed about a bit. (goal for 2008 -stop procrastinating - failed today but will start again in a non-jet lagged week)

Met Michelle for a drink in Old Street (goal for 2008 - explore more of north london) - went to a funky little bar called - ummm - forgotten name already... but it was good. Then met up with Davo and the GLA crew at the stinky Bavarian Beer Hall - place smelt of vegemite. Had some good goulash though. And random conversation about poo.

Beat the bus home and now watching Lost in Translation on TV - one of my all time fave films. (goal for 2008 - get better at updating my blog - kind of doing all right so far).

am sleepy.