Blog: happy new year. Happy new year’s blog! New blog = happy year? Oooooh.
Given that some of you are somehow under the impression that I am still living in northern Spain as a fully-fledged wannabe OAP, the revival of this blog seemed appropriate. Well, two years after my last post I thought it about time to re-open this online treasure chest of memories from abroad. Having dusted the metaphorical dust from its lid and prised it open, wincing at the thought of my 20-year-old self and her musings, I laughed and laughed and laughed. Go and take a look at the picture on the home page. Go on, it’s just a click away (that was fairy godmother Google whispering). See it? An old couple gazing out over the Bay of Biscay. Yes, look again. Goodness me. That señora looks remarkably like myself. I knew it. Well, I am currently sporting a 60 year old Spanish woman’s haircut. (I had it all cut off recently – I’m fine with it if anyone asks). That’s what you get for a fiver in London. Fast forward forty years and no doubt I will be resurrecting my blog again and I’ll see that photo and laugh and laugh and laugh because the photo will at last match reality. (I don’t think I got a shot of their faces – I tend to go for subtle spying.) As for the silver fox next to her, well…
On the matter of retirement, a noticeable increase in the post I’ve been receiving reveals that someone has kindly taken it upon themselves to subscribe me to a luxury retirement village mailing list. Thank you, thank you, thank you – I would like to just take this moment to voice my longstanding interest in the elderly, bungalows and open days which offer cake. How thoughtful… so-thoughtful-it’s-pushy? Hint taken, but I must make clear at the start of this new year that my dreams of retiring after graduation have been dashed to smithereens against the hard face of the rock of reality. Sorry to start on such a low. I realise that mid-January is already a grey sort of time when we’re all trying to make our resolutions less demanding, hunting around for some resolve to help us be more RESOLUTE. Gosh, that looks scary in capitals – less so in lower case (resolute). Well, the reason for the smithereens? It turns out that snazzy, spacious bungalows in woodland surroundings are well beyond my non-existent budget. For now, then, it’s ‘retirement from education’ which is essentially retirement without the perks of a pension… which is essentially unemployment. Which is a sensitive subject.
So, when I am eventually employed in a workforce of sorts (all sounds a bit scary, that world of work/warcraft hoo-ha), I will simply be saving up to settle down. That’s what you’re all doing, too, right? Race you to the bungalow with kitchen extension, solar panels and allotment!
I am pleased to announce that 2015 has started with some action-packed projects. Namely tidying my sock drawer, nursing a cough and shaking someone’s hand in exchange for the title ‘graduate’ (who knew it was so easy?). Also, not to put a dampener on the whole graduation thing, but did everyone else realise it was just going to be a handshake?? I am left with no other option but to take it upon myself to organise a formal ceremony in the kitchen when my certificate arrives in the post to make up for the most underwhelming event to ever be held in Durham Cathedral. Gosh, I sound like a crotchety member of the Alumni association already… Anyway, I thought all ties from Durham were henceforth severed, all bridges burnt (in the happiest, least violent way possible). Moving on, new year, new me, new life, new city, new news…
How silly of me! What about ‘Knitting Knews’?! Weekly email updates from Durham Knitting Society (‘KnitSoc’ to members) started drifting into my inbox four years ago after I had eaten far too many Celebrations on their freshers fair stall to justify refusing to give them my email address. And they just. Keep. On. Coming. I still haven’t psyched myself up to click the ‘please unsubscribe me from the nicest society in Durham’ button. Cruel, guilt-tripping knitters. I still can’t believe I never actually made it along to a ‘Scarf & laugh’ evening (…I think I may have made up that event name – any takers?). So, the emails will keep flying in, piling up, getting cosy in my inbox, sent junk-wards. A comforting routine to start 2015 with.
Speaking of routines, a chirpy little girl I collect from school (competitive graduate jobs, you know me) said that her favourite part of the day is when the fruit man comes round. Legend has it that he hands out apples and oranges before break time and the best in the class gets first dibs. Maybe there should be a fruit woman, too, so all those little girls who dream of becoming the fruitman don’t get disillusioned. Maybe I should apply. Maybe I should just turn up. Show I’m on the front fruity foot.
Hope 2015 has started well for you – if you find yourself in London, give me a shout (or ask for the fruitwoman).
Next time on the blog: Applications, applying, applicant…applicable?
(Oooooh, keeping you on yer toes, eh).