tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26886128727595212412024-03-20T11:23:30.236+00:00+ Twenty OneThe rants and ramblings of a 21-year-old journalism graduate struggling to find his way in life.Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2688612872759521241.post-68022263360098436982012-01-27T22:56:00.003+00:002012-01-27T22:59:12.489+00:00The move.On Thursday 12th January 2012, myself and Adam moved into our first home together. Adam having more energy than a kitten on speed, managed to unpack and furnish the house in a mere two days whilst I was busy at work.<br />
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I took a few photos last week and they have been on my list to upload ever since. Every time I sit down to blog, I seem to get distracted by yet another mundane chore. I've literally had to force myself to write this now that I have a few moments to relax.<br />
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The house itself is pretty small but there is plenty of room for just the two of us. The main idea of moving in together is so that we can start saving to buy our own. <i>This seems like a lifetime away right now</i>. The garden is pretty awesome, I'm just waiting for the sun to shine before I take a photo. We have two bedrooms, a bathroom, living room and a kitchen/dining room (we still need to pick up the dining table).<br />
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We're still trying our best to make the living room cosy. Adam found the leather sofa and matching poof in Argos - it was a total bargain at around £600 down from £900 or so!<br />
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The kitchen was a slight nightmare. We had to go out and buy the fridge, freezer and washing machine new (not to mention the millions of utensils). We also have one of those uber annoying induction hobs which meant that we had to buy new pans that were compatible with it!<br />
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Adam (being the budding big artiste) has been busy with the canvases too...<br />
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The main bedroom is pretty small but I love how they've used the space. It has a huge fitted wardrobe with built in rails and shelves and has some awesome installed lighting.<br />
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The bathroom is pretty self explanatory. I'm just looking out for some kind of cabinet to hang cause I'm beginning to get pretty sick of seeing toiletries everywhere. The spare room also has some built in wardrobes that we are utilising but aside from that, it's pretty much used as storage for my weight bench right now.<br />
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Adam's parents have both been over and my Dad is coming up to visit on Sunday all being well. Rumour has it that Nan is accompanying him so I'm sure that will be a barrel of laughs for all involved.<br />
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The house is taking up most of my time so, other than that, I don't really have very much in the way of upcoming plans - something I'm trying my hardest to change. I refuse to become one of these people that ends up stuck in a routine - I think I'm in desperate need of a peptalk!Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2688612872759521241.post-1549723630286992032012-01-07T21:35:00.003+00:002012-01-07T21:35:48.513+00:002012.<b><i>New Year's Eve 2011</i></b><br />
Pottering around the bedroom whilst I brace myself for the night's festivities, I begin to ponder New Year's resolutions and the kind of things I'd like 2012 to bring. I struggle with many; food is far from my worst enemy, I have no real vices to name, I've just managed a promotion and I seem to have everything I need. It's amazing just how depressed being comfortable can make you feel. Of course, there's always the idea of moving to my own place with Adam, away from these soul destroying houseshares that have been part of my life for the past five years - it's going to be a long year, why not aim high?<br />
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<b><i>New Year's Day 2012</i></b><br />
Stretched lifelessly across the bed, head buried deep beneath the stack of pillows, Adam's distant ramblings are lost amongst the persistant buzzing - an unwanted reminder from the night before.<br />
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<i>"So what shall we do with the year?"</i><br />
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I groan. Small talk is my worst enemy, especially first thing after a night of heavy intoxication.<br />
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<i>"Skydive? Learn to unicycle? Come third on X-Factor?"</i><br />
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<i>"What about moving in together?"</i><br />
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I laugh, purely to give myself a few seconds to construct a witty response. He's a persistant chappy, I'll give him that much.<br />
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<i>"Sure. You find a house, furnish it and I'm there!"</i><br />
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A minute's silence follows but I can tell his hopes are already sky high - I can feel the childish glee radiating from across the bed.<br />
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<i>"You can grab me a cup of tea first though..."</i><br />
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<b><i>Wednesday 4th January 2012</i></b><br />
Despite my earlier joy at finally dispelling the post-Christmas boredom, the first day back at work is slow. I sit staring at my computer screen, half glancing past the monitor at my colleagues busying themselves with the daily trappings of office life. My phone rings, hurling me from deep thought. For a few seconds, I actually have to remember how to answer it.<br />
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<i>"Are you able to come outside?"</i><br />
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It's Adam. I can't say it's much of a surprise, he often calls with thoughts on what to have for dinner, how many cars angered him on his way to work and other such tales of woe.<br />
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<i>"Urm, I guess so. Why?"</i><br />
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Uncomfortable laugh.<br />
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<i>"Well I have something you need to sign"</i><br />
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<i>"Sign? Like what?"</i><br />
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Uncomfortable silence.<br />
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<i>"For a house. Like you said ...."</i><br />
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Stomach drops.<br />
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<i>"It's been three days!"</i><br />
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</i>Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2688612872759521241.post-75130857071841750362011-09-18T19:24:00.002+01:002012-01-07T21:47:36.794+00:00As summer departs.Summer has hurtled past so quickly this year. I'm not quite sure whether it is down to the fact that I've done hardly anything of interest to make the season memorable, done too much and not had time to stop and think or (most likely) the lack of sun and abundance of rain prevented any recognition that summer was even here in the first place. Either way, I can only really think of a couple of main events that have happened since I last bothered to show my face online.<br />
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Back in August, a few of my friends from university came back up to Lincoln for a weekend of shenanigans. The group consisted of the usual suspects - Gemma, Amy, Sarah, Lauren and Abbie. We had a pretty great weekend featuring several meals out, a night on the tiles and Sunday lunch at a country house.<br />
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We also <strike>endured</strike> enjoyed work Sports Day last month too. In a nutshell, the entire company gets paid to have the afternoon off and they hire out a sports centre where we spend the remainder of the day competing in various events. It's pretty good fun but the free bar makes it just that bit more bearable. I was in <i>'The Milky Bar Kids'</i> this year and we came second - not too bad!<br />
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Speaking of work, I've also had a promotion. After a bit of swapping and changing, I am now the new Retentions Manager based under Operations. Basically, I have a team of 7 others that are responsible for trying to keep customers that are having problems or are thinking of cancelling. I'm really excited about it cause I have been planning for something like this for a long time (I've been dealing with a lot of cancellations and competitors on my own for some time). It is great to finally have a team to manage and hopefully make a difference. It is being officially announced to the teams this week so I will have to wait and see what happens with that.<br />
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Like I have always said to myself - <i>good things come to those who wait</i>.Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2688612872759521241.post-83758013232116042822011-07-24T20:20:00.000+01:002011-07-24T20:20:39.382+01:00Amy Winehouse.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-q93A-okebtftL3VpOewdSvckAGmlzsWLuyLtqtSmFVE7Ewg07kVjo8RbAMoMPzQmFCppzMcs-hePNggKdgRLj594o0TUmrU9cLXn_qcMB_UHaVQ3PZruku-FdFP9HFWLRaWRWJrTzft/s1600/Amy+Winehouse+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-q93A-okebtftL3VpOewdSvckAGmlzsWLuyLtqtSmFVE7Ewg07kVjo8RbAMoMPzQmFCppzMcs-hePNggKdgRLj594o0TUmrU9cLXn_qcMB_UHaVQ3PZruku-FdFP9HFWLRaWRWJrTzft/s1600/Amy+Winehouse+001.jpg" /></a></div><br />
On the 23rd July 2011, yet another huge talent was taken from the world in the form of Amy Winehouse.<br />
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Like most people, I can't say that I was genuinely <i>shocked</i> by the news, however it did hit me a lot harder than I ever thought it would - she was so hugely influential both in terms of style and the revival of British music that it's hard to comprehend that she's no longer here.<br />
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I can still remember the Christmas when, as a young teenager, her debut album was plastered all over the television here in England. I can still remember my Father commenting on how unusual it was for an artist of that particular genre to be featured on mainstream TV. I can still remember rushing out to HMV and buying a copy of 'Frank' as part of his Christmas present that year.<br />
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I wouldn't say that she was on my list of favourite artists but that is more to do with differing musical tastes rather than lack of appreciation. Her voice was phenomenal and the way in which she performed was nothing short of effortless - something which many began to forget towards the end as the surrounding media circus began to eclipse her talent.<br />
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If ever a study was needed as to the effects of fame on a troubled human being, you need look no further than Amy Winehouse.<br />
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Drug addiction has a terrible stigma attached to it and society needs to wake up and realise that the age old attitude of '<i>they've made their bed, they should lie in it'</i> is not the answer. It is an illness that takes countless lives from the world year upon year and the worst part is that it really doesn't need to happen.<br />
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We are all human and only as strong as we <i>think</i> we are. Turning a blind-eye is not the way forward - with a bit of help and understanding, this tragic loss of life can easily be avoided.<br />
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It's just a shame that it takes such a high profile death such as Amy's for people to even begin listening.Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2688612872759521241.post-39990871347082580882011-07-20T22:04:00.002+01:002011-07-20T22:07:37.117+01:00The Fez & Moomin show.On the 13th June, after months of reading about ferrets and pining after a pet, these little guys entered my life.<br />
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The grey coloured one is Fez and the white albino is Moomin. You'd never realise from their names that they are both girls but what can I say, I'm stubborn once I have an idea in my head.<br />
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A lady at work (Caroline) mentioned a while back that her daughter was looking to get a couple of baby ferrets to replace one that had just passed away so I told her to let me know if she managed to find any for sale. It turned out that she remembered so one Monday night, I dragged Adam over to some thug's house on the outskirts of the city and bought the little critters.<br />
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I'm not going to lie - they are an absolute nightmare. The phrase 'little monsters' really doesn't cut it but that aside, they really are the cutest, goofiest animals that you could ever wish to come across. No matter how awful my day at work has been, seeing Fez and Moomin bouncing around the room and sliding along skirting boards always makes me smile. I'd just love to know where they get all their energy from.<br />
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Initially, I kept them indoors as it seemed just plain cruel to keep such tiny little animals outside but that lasted just two weeks. Plenty of people had warned me about how much ferrets can smell and they definitely weren't wrong. It isn't an awful smell - it is kind of sweet and earthy (nowhere near as bad as wet dog) but it wasn't something that I wanted lingering around the room in which I sleep. Needless to say, they are now outside - in a hutch that rivals most manor houses.<br />
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After reading a few horror stories regarding neutering ferrets too early, I've decided to wait until at least October before I take them to the vets. Having said that, judging by just how crazy and mollycoddling ferret owners appear to be on the forums, I'm going to take most of what I read with a pinch of salt. After all, they were originally bred in the darkest depths of North Yorkshire for rabbit hunting - I'm sure they're pretty tough little beasts.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjZPtWindnqKMET-hsXe7dvRLcwLZJv2_izUsUnaf8EcmOlU3HhpCgQwlv0EzWxnioYSpuRZgWjv1rBZjcWb9SPbQeVCbwyJcSS4vrFQiza4LXp76t-Hp8JDGoXPfSoYLGR3C4ZDsz3rf/s1600/DSC08842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjZPtWindnqKMET-hsXe7dvRLcwLZJv2_izUsUnaf8EcmOlU3HhpCgQwlv0EzWxnioYSpuRZgWjv1rBZjcWb9SPbQeVCbwyJcSS4vrFQiza4LXp76t-Hp8JDGoXPfSoYLGR3C4ZDsz3rf/s1600/DSC08842.jpg" /></a></div>Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2688612872759521241.post-87485533092416831692011-07-19T22:18:00.002+01:002011-07-19T22:20:55.136+01:00Pride 2011.I've gotten into the age old habit of neglecting my blog again. Having said this, I refuse to waste any more web space on cliche 'I am still alive' posts so let's just acknowledge how crappy I am and move swiftly on. Deal?<br />
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As is typical in the ever changing life of Wayne, there have been a few interesting events to note over the past few months (this never used to be the case I assure you) - however, as I am the literary version of a marathon-running fat kid, you'll have to forgive me whilst I catch up.<br />
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Saturday 9th July was Pride weekend here in Lincoln. As this is probably one of the tiniest cities you could ever wish to come across in England, the event itself nowhere near rivals that of London or Manchester but it is still fun nonetheless and it's always fun to drag friends along that would never normally dream of attending.<br />
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Historically, Pride has always been held in the grounds of the university but this year they excelled in their choice of location - a park situated in the city's medieval quarter. Despite a few early showers (as is typical of this damn country), it turned out to be a beautiful day and as a result, the number of attendees appeared to be a lot higher than usual - always a good sign.<br />
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Some would say that it was all down to the vocal talents of X-Factor's Rachel Adedeji. Personally, I'd thank the amazing chicken and chorizo paella.<br />
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Or beer...<br />
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Most likely the latter.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV80gVhDsrV2TizPBVml9ETX4oIM4zVYfmy0POrqEJfbzYC61scBEJFto7zngmb6uo_HJVK_2GyQ6cpTH4CbJ10FXgJBfmOyDlFjUrcinm060wFygus1cP4bkG6SxZTTnPFR9N61X1Rr5T/s1600/DSC08885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV80gVhDsrV2TizPBVml9ETX4oIM4zVYfmy0POrqEJfbzYC61scBEJFto7zngmb6uo_HJVK_2GyQ6cpTH4CbJ10FXgJBfmOyDlFjUrcinm060wFygus1cP4bkG6SxZTTnPFR9N61X1Rr5T/s1600/DSC08885.JPG" /></a></div>Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2688612872759521241.post-71576180061571871422011-05-26T00:06:00.004+01:002011-05-26T00:09:17.822+01:00We apologise for the slight delay in proceedings.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTtYa1eLSSCFde3tEFFNX5WC_ZGMFkFJbU-ibzqk_y3j8Fo1bOPw_OwCaTcj0xgNTwa09DrbPaw2ajIbSk0jUfBfDrxAP2zuapoUprhRelmQrb_qCFE_PkZu_qQ_bGdzB5SnH3UzUbhJb/s1600/tumblr_lkshgkj54Z1qjdwcoo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaTtYa1eLSSCFde3tEFFNX5WC_ZGMFkFJbU-ibzqk_y3j8Fo1bOPw_OwCaTcj0xgNTwa09DrbPaw2ajIbSk0jUfBfDrxAP2zuapoUprhRelmQrb_qCFE_PkZu_qQ_bGdzB5SnH3UzUbhJb/s1600/tumblr_lkshgkj54Z1qjdwcoo1_1280.jpg" /></a></div><br />
So once again, I've managed to claim a tiny slice of the web before promptly abandoning it within the space of weeks. The story of my life.<br />
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Having said that, I'm actually not quite sure why it happens. I regularly lie awake at night with thoughts racing through my head, wishing that I had somewhere to vent and type it all out but lately, for some unknown reason it has been happening more and more. Queue the resurrection of <a href="http://plustwentyone.blogspot.com/">plustwentyone</a>.<br />
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In keeping with tradition (if you can call two previous posts that), my new posts will more than likely consist of ramblings, observations and anything else that I may be able to glean from daily life.<br />
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They may be dull or even mildly entertaining but I can promise you that they certainly won't change the world.<br />
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Many thanks to those of you that hung around and stuck with me during the break in transmission - say hi and give me a heads up in the comments!Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2688612872759521241.post-12705021604440194822010-08-06T23:45:00.001+01:002010-08-07T13:33:22.076+01:00Comfort.<center><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4122/4867428008_1fe006debe_z.jpg" /></center><br />
As the purpose of this blog is to document the more memorable moments in life (a life portfolio if you will), then you could say that today's events hold quite a significance in the life of a young man and therefore deserve their written place in cyberspace.<br />
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<b>I drove my very first car for the very first time.</b><br />
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Followers of my previous blog would be forgiven for thinking <i>'Huh, what about the old car you had? Was it a figment of our imaginations?'</i> but the truth is it was never really mine, I was merely on my Father's insurance. It wasn't the most ideal of situations as it resulted in many arguments to the tune of <i>'are you using the car this weekend?' </i>and an endless amount of blackmail. To begin with, the arrangement was great as my Dad always used the work van and never had much to do with the car but after a year or so, the dreaded 'ladyfriend' came on the scene meaning that I then rarely saw my Dad himself let alone the car. I guess it was just something I had to live with as I was about to embark on my university studies and running a car of my own was something that I would definitely not have been able to afford. This way, I at least had some access to a vehicle whilst I was home.<br />
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A few months ago, eager <s>to oust me out onto the streets so that his girlfriend could move in</s> for his son to find himself a job and begin exploring the big wide world, my Father decided to buy me a shiny new Vauxhall Corsa. Sky blue with one previous elderly owner, I fell in love at first sight and knew that it would be the perfect <i>first car</i>. The one pictured above isn't actually mine but it is the same model except for the fact that mine has four doors - I couldn't handle the sheer amount of clambering that results from a two door bean-tin.<br />
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For months it sat abandoned at the bottom of the garden, taunting me each night as I drew the curtains ready for bed. Father had made it perfectly clear that I was allowed the car only if I managed to secure myself a job after graduation. Now on the surface, this sounds like a kind gesture - a Dad providing his child with transport to help him get back on his feet. In reality, it is actually yet another in a long line of machiavellian schemes that my Father uses in order to motivate/blackmail me into actually getting off of my arse. Trust me, I know him just as well as he knows me.<br />
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Luckily, said scheme worked more effectively than usual and I forced myself off of my arse long before graduation. So fast in fact that I secured a job and insured the car both within the space of a week; don't worry though, I have already set aside two months worth of arse-sitting to make up for it.<br />
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So this morning, clutching the documents fresh from the post I sauntered on up to the village post office and stood stumped for half an hour as I stared at the shelves full of forms, unable to quite workout the necessary procedure for taxing a car. Fortunately, someone was able to understand what the hell I was trying to do and ten minutes later I left £67 lighter and a tax disc heavier. I'm now beginning to understand exactly what my friends mean when they say that their vehicles haemorrhage money <i>(and yes, that did just take me five minutes to work out how to spell - cheers America with your abnormal language differences).</i><br />
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I get home, throw the disc into a vaguely noticeable position in the window, start the car and in true English style decide that my very first destination is going to be the holy grail of supermarkets: <i>Tesco</i>. I don't know what it is about that blue and white striped retail hellhole but it always seems to be the target destination for the bored. When I first passed my test, where did I go? <i>Tesco</i>. When we were bored after the Summer Ball, where did we go? <i>Tesco</i>. It isn't even interesting and is almost always choc full of chavs but I suppose it's one of those places that you know that you are always near and will always be open...... and now it has taken my <i>first-drive-in-my-new-car</i> virginity. I feel dirty just typing it, much like the car at this present moment.<br />
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To be fair, I actually did very little in <i>Tesco</i>. After sitting in the car park for at least ten minutes, stroking the dash and removing fluff from every orifice (the car's, not mine), I fought my way in through the hoards of dithering housewives, grabbed a <i>Jelly Belly</i> air freshener (pear scented, naturally) and a magnetic tax disc holder and bombed it back out of there. I did encounter an embarrassing situation involving some cheap Gin and a pack 'n' scan but I'll save that for the next blog dry spell. Hardly worth the half an hour trip but we all waste our lives in different ways ay?<br />
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All that is left now is to whip out the bucket and chamois and give it a good old clean before we embark on our first journey of substantial distance tomorrow. I'm off to a uni friend's 21st and I can't be seen rocking up in filth-on-wheels - reputation and all that! That's if we actually make it of course. I have visions of the handbrake falling through the floor - a reoccurring nightmare that still haunts me courtesy of a disaster filled trip to Cornwall back when I was nine.<br />
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When it comes to the importance of names, I'm completely stumped and I've been unable to come up with anything as catchy as <i>Ronnie</i>, the previous Renault. The model - <i>Comfort</i>, is emblazoned on the passenger side door and though it would be easy to settle for <i>Comfort</i> the Corsa, I don't feel as though the personality of the car really reflects that of a sassy Jamaican housewife.<br />
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I think I'll ponder it a little longer....Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2688612872759521241.post-87288942172386502962010-08-04T18:55:00.004+01:002010-08-05T12:55:44.041+01:00A new chapter.<center><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4141/4860156533_635ea218d4_b.jpg" width="600" /></center><br />
So this is it, I've managed to land my first ever job (second if you count my brief stint at the old folks home when I was sixteen but I don't, so you shouldn't either).<br />
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I have always believed myself to be somewhat of a lazy arse (yes, that's the official term) but I guess the fact that I haven't yet graduated and have already found <i>good</i> full time work would suggest otherwise. Needless to say, I'm extremely proud of myself. I think it has shocked my dear Father too; I'm convinced that he had been preparing himself with sufficient funds to keep me up until Christmas at least. With my track record, who can blame him?<br />
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I suppose that living away for so long has given me a taste of independence that I am reluctant to give up. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being at home - I love the abundance of food and not having to worry about rent and bills, but I now feel a total stranger in the family home in which I grew up. It's a strange feeling, as though I belong here yet I shouldn't be here. My Dad has been amazing over the past year, a year that has been a great struggle both emotionally and financially and I will be forever grateful to him for that. In fact, I genuinely look forward to the day that I am able to repay him for the kindess he has shown and I have assured him that it will happen.<br />
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The recruitment process for this job has been a huge pain in my side over the past two months. I first put myself forward back in June, though if I had known that it would prove to be such a long and drawn out process, I often wonder whether I would have ever bothered. It resulted in numerous agency meetings, multiple trips back and forth to Lincoln and a couple of interviews. At one point, I genuinely believed that I had accidentally applied for <i>The Apprentice</i>, that or an episode of <i>Punk'd</i> - either way, both sound entirely plausible. Finally after months of titting around, I received the call yesterday and I start on the 16th. My relief, however, was short lived as they explained that three permanent positions would be given to three of us after three months if we proved to be good workers. It seems they really do hold a love for business based reality shows.<br />
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The job itself is a graduate management training programme for a partner to Lincolnshire's<i> Local Education Authority</i>. Basically I am trained for a year or so to eventually manage their marketing department. There are three graduate manager jobs at the end of it and they have taken on three trainees (including myself) so to be honest, it's not much of a competition; I think they've just given themselves the option to get rid of someone if they aren't pulling their weight. I realise how lucky I am to have been selected out of the initial forty applicants as I am only just about to graduate and I have never worked in my life. My CV resembles the Sahara desert, I kid you not. It is flattering to think that their attraction to me has come almost entirely from meeting me, as on paper, I'm about as exciting as a plate of peas. The moral to this story is that, if I can blag my way through life, anyone can. No excuses.<br />
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I'd be lying if I said that 2010 has been a good year so far as I can safely say that it has easily been one of the worst but finally I can see things slotting together. The fog is clearing and I'm beginning to get a picture of where I will be in a few months time. I can already feel myself starting to relax, a sorely missed feeling that I welcome back with open arms, no matter how short lived.<br />
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It's a new chapter and an appropriate time for a new blog. They say that it's <i>out with the old and in with the new</i> and believe me, I'm determined to do just that.Waynehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15853459476392397663noreply@blogger.com9