Fergus (the dog) and I are watching the Living Channel. He's faking sleep, and I'm absentmindedly working on Czech noun conjugation. We're so rock and roll. My mother says she is 'contemplating', though I didn't ask what she was contemplating. I'll go up with a cup of tea for her in a few minutes, I know she likes this show. Holmes on Homes. Very Canadian. The dog isn't supposed to be on the couch, but he does that growly Ewok thing at me, so I don't push it.

I've been unemployed since the 16th of December. I've been living at home since the beginning of March. I haven't been inclined to write a journal post since March of 2007. I don't even know where to start. Or how.

Baby steps, baby steps.

At least I can say I'm still here. And perhaps I have to get back in the habit of being able to publish actual paragraphs. Or be inspired by something. Write, write, write!

Until next time? Fingers crossed.

'And our skin gets thicker, from living out in the snow...'

The ducks make a nice change from the sheep, don't you think? Well, if you can make them out, I can only do so much with a 1.3M pixel camera and a small dog who won't sit still for five seconds, but I can do worse.

There are always going to be people who have far better work stories. sadly I am not so lucky these days. Let it be said I have an extremely boring job. There isn't a lot I can complain about, or make fun of, or entertain readers with, not even photos. Just...blurry photos of ducks and pretty trees from while out walking the dog.

But, it's not from lack of trying. While I work on getting the perfect phone-camera shot of shrubbery, I have been not-giving up on finding and applying and hoping for the next good job. I.e. one that will get me out of this three-hundred and fifty bucks-a-week rut, and hopefully please oh God please out of Palmerston North. It's just hard keeping any sort of optimism every time I get a rejection phone-call or stock-email and after the interview I had last week, it hit a little harder than most. Maybe I'm allowed to wallow just a little over this particular one, I thought it had gone extremely well, and to have gotten the 'unfortunately you weren't suitable, but thanks anyway' meant that it took a LOT longer to get to sleep last night. But I realyl do have to admit the better job is out there waiting, it will happen, and I can't let the fear of yet another rejection get to me and completely do my head in. And I have to remember that each and every single time I click that Submit button on the application page.

...and to actually get things in on TIME, not a week later, not the minute before the deadline, and NOT to be left kicking myself three hours, three days or three weeks later for not doing something proactive. Proactive also including doing laundry, because I really do not like running out of clean socks.

I have incentive to do this, I have had since I was 12, and I'm not forgetting that. It should be enough.

Well. I did wallow a little today, though wallowing in a public place is a little difficult, so 'sulking and doing the dishes' had to suffice. Next time I decide to sulk, I really should wear gloves. It isn't really useful to dwell on this for too long, and thinking that graduating next week is a huge waste of time and a brand new skirt won't help, either. Even if half my classmates already have jobs, and I'm still messing about in a supermarket deli in a dorky apron and cap, I'm not going to sit there and beat myself up over it. Just think good things. Really good things. Like getting out of here, being able to buy shoes that don't hurt, clothes that fit, and glasses that don't fall off. Even the small things: the chorus in The Arcade Fire's 'Keep The Car Running', having the cat claw at me on my lap in what he thinks is affection, mini Creme Eggs from Woolworths, finishing the first book in over three months (believe me, it's not from lack of trying. And I'm glad I finished it, The Polish House, by Radek Sikorsky is defintiely one I'll plug, (*does so, shamelessly*), and read again. My inner history geek will love me for it.) and pissed off Czechs in space-suits. Sometimes, it's the small things that count most.

Because if I ran, I'd spill my Earl Grey. Simple, really.

Should not have skipped class. Well, the weather turned, and I was tired, and it was my first proper dinner in a few days, and excuses excuses. Don't tell my mother, okay?

I don't actually know if today was good or bad, because it definitely wasn't a normal one. First off, after all my preparation and having done the Stupid O'Clock thing forever now, I was two minutes late for the train. Not even that. I could literally run my hand along the carriages as it moved out. I was so sure I was going to make it, I normally do my house to the station in ten minutes. But, it either left early or I'm not as good as I thought I was. Oops. After I turned up (and while I was busy failing to supress a temper tantrum), a taxi had also turned up late, and I decided possibly stupidly, that I could race the train to the next station, about twenty mnutes south. Trains have straight lines. Country roads round here, don't. I didn't think I'd catch it anyway, but I thought I'd try. I turned up, after speeding at Dumbfuck speeds in pre-dawn darkness AND torrential rain, and on the teeny tiny little Shannon railway station platform was a taxi, a guy looking pretty flustered and the taxi driver, on his phone. We had no idea if the train had already been or not, I assumed that's what the driver was trying to find out. So this guy and I start to talking about how dare TranzMetro run their trains two minutes early, when we find out from a passing local that we were indeed too late. Eh, like I was going to be that lucky. I offered to give him a lift into Wellington. It was possibly just as well I turned up, as his driver couldn't go any further south.

And I had a quarter tank of petrol left. *frets*

My new friend's name was Ian, and he worked as a media officer for the NZ Nurses Organisation, and was on his way to work in the city. We got to talking about minimum wages, recent union actions in various health ssectors, the weather, the state of the roads, our respective jobs (he'd done lab work with MedLab, which I thought was neat, seeing as I almost worked there once...), and we really had a good old time. The traffic was pretty standard, head-on collision at the intersection at Waikanae, roadworks at McKay's Crossing again, more wind and rain, and we made it in time, as expected, really late. In return for the lift, Ian gave me the use of a free carpark at the hotel he was staying at right at the top of Willis Street, which was totally freaking cool, because parking in town is possibly the dumbest thing any living person can do.

Anyway. I killed an hour and a half wandering about until I had to catch my train at 10. Note to anyone in the station looking for coffee and a muffin? Don't go to the one in the concourse, you won't get what you ordered, and you will probably end up running late to your train waiting around for it. Listened to Soviet Kitsch (*high fives B.* Love it THIS MUCH.) and watched the heavy squalls make their way down the harbour, as I headed up the Hutt. I find the place okay, it was a good walk, and it just started to pour down as I turned up. AgriQuality is a government facility, where they basically test anything to do with farm produce, imported food and stock feed. The labs? Oh, I think I feel in love, rows upon rows of HPLC machines, wide open bench spaces, ohhhh. I had applied for the position of sample reception technician, and where I would be is where samples would come in, they'd be registered on the network, and pre-testing would be carried out, and at the other end, samples are disposed of. (Oh. Should I say one of the technicians working there is Czech? Tee hee!) The interview itself went better than I thought, I did stutter a bit and had a few brain blips, but I am sure I went okay. Even though I was drenched through and exhausted. I want to work there! I really, really do! Of course if I did get the job I'd have to move there, but that's the next thing I have to worry about; they're going to ring me back to say if I got a second interview.

*deep breath*

Since the weather had started to pack in, my interviewer offered me a lift back to Woburn train station (gah, that was so nice, too) and just as I turn up, it REALLY began to rain. I get to the shelter, and suddenly the rain is going horizontal and the lightning made me jump. I was on the phone to Mum, who I couldn't hear at all, at the time and I yelped when the thunder crashed. Then my phone cut out. I had twenty minutes to wait (and read my book, and plug in my iPod: I had the Arcade Fire's EP to tide me over) in a shelter that wasn't much of a shelter at all, with two other people trying to get their phones to work, and just getting soaked. This was when I texted S. and C. to say that help help I'm drowning somewhere in the Hutt Valley. It only got worse. By the time I got to Wellington, and a nice warm Earl Grey (scalding, actually, but that was actually a good thing, considering how fucking cold it was, the rain was almost solid, and the as-quick-as-I-could-go-with-hot-tea dash from the station up to Lambton Quay, I should have just swum there. By now I decided to stuff doing anything further in town and walked back to the car. A good half hour walk, turned into an hour. Partly because I stopped ina few CD and book stores, and under advice to 'treat myself' (doctor's orders, I swear!) and picked up a copy of Non Violence: The History of a Dangerous Idea by Mark Kurlansky, which I shall be reaing *after* the Sikorsky, hee. And it took me quite a while to actually get OUT of the city, but when it comes to navigating my way out of unfamiliar places, I am, sorry to say, at one with the pigeon. I was out of there, no hassles whatsoever. Except for the traffic. And the second head on collision just out of the Terrace Tunnel. And seeing as I've not driven to Wellington for quite a while, I had forgotten how awful the roads and the drivers are. I was literally praying to my car to not stall and roll backwards down the Nguranga Gorge. just as I was praying that other cars would stop trying TO KILL ME. But, they breed them tough in Palmerston North, and I put my foot down and got aggressive. Well, more aggressive. And it worked, my car didn't roll downhill or get side-swiped by trucks and courier vans and ha ha on them.

I met Mum in Titahi Bay (I was supposed to get a lift back home with her, if everything went to plan and I had caught the damn morning train), and we both drove back north, carefully as possible, there was still surface flooding and strong winds. Aaand I get home, and vegetate, eat a nice dinner, skip class and scoff an entire bag of Reese's Pieces. Certainly a day well spent.

More work tomorrow, more non-sleep tomorrow, and more trying to catch up with people who actually have lives and actual interesting things going on. And I'm sure I'm forgetting a lot of important things, but if they were important, I'd remember them.

Is it contrary of me to say I want the sun back, and the Daylight Savings to just hurry up and die already? Though I'd rather it not be hot and sticky and never again with the thunderstorms tonight, please, I barely got three hours last night. And I couldn't sleep it off on the train. How about that.

There is no need for them to be playing Keane this late at night, so I'm going to turn the TV off and forget I even saw it. *yawns*

High above the Muscovite sky

...New shoes! Shoes that will probably limit the amount of chicken fat, coleslaw dressing and ice-cold water from making my life just a little more frustrating.

Sure anyone needed to know that. But seeing as that is possibly the highlight of the past seven days, it's probably worth making a deal out of it.

One of, maybe. Tonight I started a 'Russian for Travelers' class at a night school in town. Outside of practicing my name in the Cryllic script, I achieved a slight headache and the dire need to know why I was there at all! It was possibly the most random thing I could have chosen to do, why I couldn't have taken German or Art History Appreciation, or stayed at home and watched CSI: New York, but it is the first night, and the alphabet is obviously a little too confusing to get my head around on the first go, and I will get the hang of it. Or I cave and switch to German next Wednesday. But such is my 'thing' for Slavonic languages, it's a, er, start. Of something. It gets my brain doing something one night a week, which is the whole point, anyway.

And another thing I have to decide is whether I may need to move out, or move back home if I can't find a better job soon. I work full-time in the delicatessen in a suburban supermarket, it's not as if I'm making a lot of money, and it's not like I really want to be doing this permanently. I got turned down for the AgriQuality job in Upper Hutt today, and it's just yet another rejection. It is frustrating, but I just have to keep going. I like living where I am, but if it comes to moving back home, then I'll move back home. If Dad ends up going to East Timor this year, it may work out, to some degree. I don't want to 'wait and see', butI do want to hold out some hope that I'll get better work soon.

And meanwhile, things elsewhere are good; I emailed V. yesterday because I hadn't done so in months and that's almost shameful, and I am going to email E., because she's already emailed me twice from Korea, and I don't think I've talked to her in almost a year. B. is so kindly sending me Life on Mars, to add to my growing list of new television shows to watch and get into, only we seem to be cursed at getting disks that work. I am going to miss B. when he flies back home. Oh, and I have to remember to send various bits and pieces to K. and P. (sheepies, magnetic sheepies! The fantardery is spreading. Insert evil cackle here) this week, and something else to C. for the sugar cookies which I am rationing like anything (yum, oh, so yum!). Aaaaand S. shall be down from Dannevirke this week or so, and it'll be good to catch up again.

Lastly, the photo is Palmerston North from the patio this morning, taken (again) with my phone. Well, Palmerston North is down in there somewhere, the zoom wasn't so great. We live up behind the university, to the south-west of town, and to get a view like this is fantastic, it more or less sold me on the place. No idea if the lantern actually works, though.

Fish, gravity, and excessive adjectives.

Adding an image to this is far too easy. I'm very sure it's going to turn out all wrong, because me and adding image to things don't quite mix. But I have faith this time. I don't quite know what I'm going to put in this thing, but pictures are always nice. This is the Manawatu River, taken from underneath the Fitzherbert Bridge. I've noticed that the boring town where I live is much more interesting when there are no cars, people or buildings in it. This is pretty much my backyard. With cows.

Tomorrow is the start of my second full week at my job. It's not much of a job, considering it's not much of a wage. It's much easier to just switch most of my brain off and go on autopilot. But it's...fairly interesting. I am fairly good at cutting large fillets of salmon, though not so hot on crumbing gurnard, the first day there I dropped one or two fillets and the fillet knife ont he floor, just missing my foot. And that's not the last injury I've inflicted on myself: bruised elbow from hitting the manual slicer when I was in too much of a hurry; spontaneous nose-bleeds while drying the dishes; having one of the sliding cabinet doors fly out of it's track and on to my foot; and hitting my hip on the chiller door mechanism, which left a lovely bruise and a dent right on the bone. And I am doomed to be forever covered in coleslaw dressing, though the less said, the better. But there are perks, free food from the bakery, if they are so inclined. The caramel afghans are the best, but three in one day is not the best idea. The free food makes having to tolerate infinite levels of rudeness and unnecessary impatience from customers just that much more bearable. But only a smidge. And what can I say, I've never looked better in a pair of black and white checked pajamas before. Stylish. I'm not complaining, it is money, and the rent doesn't pay itself.

I'm really just killing time until my download of the season finale of Atlantis finishes. My 'fake' weekend was spent pretty much gushing over photos and reports from the Pegasus 2 convention in London. And with all the lovely and gorgeous photos, how can I not squeal like a giddy five year old? it was really fun to be chatting with C. while, erm, perving (shall we politely say, huh?) over the wonderful (and flirty and funny and slightly weird but charming all the way) David Nykl. The cast on that show really do have this amazing chemistry, so very easy going and goofy, so much love! And now it's been confirmed that David Hewlett is going to Armageddon this year in Auckland, I just can't wait. Actually I'm hoping Kavan Smith gets himself over here, too.

...I feel like I'm writing one of those first-day-back=after-the-Christmas-break What I Did Over The Summer reports. Blogspot feels too proper after the junior kids' playground that is LJ. This is like the first day of high school. I hope I'm doing okay, but these damn shoes are far too big. Maybe I'll grow into them.

Hey, I *may* actually use this one.

Well, considering the only reason I got Firefox installed was so that I could use Blogspot, so I may as well make the most of it. I already like it better than LJ. *gasps* Shock, horror.

And it took me forever to choose a title, but finally I decided on using the title of a song I really love. Okay, the English translation of the title of a song I really adore, because the little Czech accent graves didn't quite take, heh. And, of course, the little sheepie in the corner. Much cuter to look at than I am, so he stays.

Now to play around and get this thing looking sweet.