What is success?

Turned down a job today. Lecturer at one of the top universities in the UK, paying a good £8k a year more than I earn now.

I felt it wasn't quite the right step for me and that I would be academically and possibly socially isolated there. I don't want to skip too many developmental stages.

It made me think about what IS important in my job, and more generally, in my life. Feeling competent, learning, having a laugh, being cared for and caring for others - these are life's valuables.

Don't get me wrong, I want prestige and money, just not at that cost.

MJ lives!

Reading about Michael Jackson's death on the Guardian website this morning, I was overjoyed to notice that it is still possible to buy tickets for his "Final Performance". I just wonder how I will get to the venue?

Old git

David Dimbleby announced last night that the BBC's School's Question Time wants "a young audience". "If you are under 24, you can apply" he told us.

I'm such an old git.

Snot

Snot ain't good.

Thanks Arthur.

Although he was very cute yesterday. It was time to say goodbye and I said "I won't kiss you because I don't want to catch your cold" [note the irony of that statement] so he kissed my skirt instead - the top of his head only reaches my thigh.

Ooo hope it's not swine flu (cue my mum insisting I visit the doctor). At least my mum won't have to keep telling me not to pick my nose and eat it like Arthur's mum had to tell him yesterday.

Richard Long...

...made me want to create and record. Realised I've got a real thing about art that categorises like his does. F thinks I like things that show visible progression and I think he's right. Time lapse photography is particularly cool. Counting, recording, categorising. It is way of measuring progress and encourages reflection and improvement.

Urban Garden (not mine)

Stumbled across the Phoenix Garden in WC2 yesterday. I love the fact that people bother to try and make their living areas prettier, more community-oriented places, particularly right in the heart of central London.

Comparing one's own life with those of journalists

Hot on the heels of Charla Murray writing about offering her husband sex every day for a year comes Hepzibah Anderson writing about her year without sex.

Is this supposed to make me feel better or worse about my own life? I presume the only point of these articles is to provide insecure people with yet another person to compare themselves to?

Roofscape

We did end up going to the Central St Martins show. Impressive fashion - interesting folding and pleating and some fantastic fabrics. Here's a view from one of the windows - a roofscape of Soho.

I love roofscapes. The best bit of the Pompidou is looking over Paris from the top.

Festival!! Or not?

Should I go to Bestival?

"Yes" because:
- I like dressing up
- It's probably the only festival I'll go to this summer
- I can go with people I like
- It was fun when I went 2 years ago

"No" because:
- It was fun when I went 2 years ago (i.e. I've already been)
- F isn't going
- It might rain
- I might go a festival in Malawi in October, so I could save my money for that (see below)
- The ticket alone costs £140, not counting transport, food, drinks etc etc etc

Shows shows shows

Went to the Slade show last night and then the London Metropolitan Architecture show this evening to see F's friend Sam's work. Tomorrow we're considering going to the St Martin's fashion show.

Phew!

Was particularly impressed with the London Met one. Beautiful models and interesting projects e.g. mapping slums in India to make them legal.

One of my favourite pieces at the Slade was by Kate Keara Pelen who, wierdly, I was good friends with at primary school. Had no idea who she was until I just looked up her site to put the link into my blog.

Dreams of success

Had two dreams about achieving sporting success on two consecutive nights. Note the word "dreams" - in real life I am not very sporty.

In the first I was playing football with gypsies. I put on my football boots and was amazed that I suddenly seemed able to control the ball with ease and score goals a-plenty. This rarely/never happens in real life.

In the second I was taking part in a cross country run. At school I came last - LAST - in the cross country. In this race, I came near the front. Although I didn't actually win.

Both times I thought "gosh, I'm actually quite good at this. Maybe I should challenge myself more often".

Today I applied for a senior position at another university. In some ways I am quite likely to get it. In other ways, I don't have a chance. If I get it, it will certainly be a challenge.

Is my subconscious telling me I can meet this challenge?

Or is it just telling me to get off my lazy behind and do some more exercise?

My urban garden update

Very excited about the progress in my garden (well someone has to be). The sunflower is doing well after being initially chomped by snails. The fuschia is about to burst into red flowers. The thyme made a delicious addition to tonight's supper of broad beans from my mum's compound, asparagus, lemon, mozzarella and wholewheat spaghetti. Mmmm. The mint is looking sturdy. And the wildflower seeds are starting to germinate.

Only the poor old honeysuckle is succumbing to mildew. I'm watering it LOADS, but I fear the soil is a bit sandy and the mould may have set in for good.

Bought some phosphorous plant foot that I'm adding to the water. No idea if it's making any difference.

Ann Summers party kind of

Went to a vintage fashion afternoon/soiree at K's yesterday. Boo to a Goose came to her flat with rails of vintage clothes, shoes, jewellery, gloves and bags for sale. We, K's friends, came to try on and buy. I could hear the feminine shrieks down the street as I approached her place. I bought a burnt orange Studio 54 type gown and two cool diamonte necklaces.

Then we went to Lately's in West Hampstead.

Despite having lived in the area for 6 of my adult years, I have never ventured inside. It was how I imagine clubs in Preston (sorry Preston) must be. Nice owner though - gave us a free drink each on K's insistence.

Urban country garden

Climbed the hill to Fenton House in Hampstead this morning. The gardens are a mixture of formal 18th century topiary and a traditional cottage garden. It's got an orchard and a couple of humming beehives as well as a vegetable patch and a greenhouse. Here are some pics.

If you have allergies, look away now

Here is some beautiful poplar fluff in Regent's Park. It's as soft as rabbit fur. I've never noticed it before in such abundance. Is it just this year?

What are universities for?

This afternoon I went to an inspiring symposium at UCL on public engagement.

The idea is that universities should not just teach students and conduct research, but should endeavour to educate everyone. As the Vice-Provost Michael Worton pointed out, public engagement isn't just writing in the Guardian or even the Telegraph (as he put it), it's enabling all sorts of people being able to benefit from academic expertise.

Public engagement is the new big thing. Mostly probably because grant giving bodies require it (just as assessments motivate medical students, so grant requirements motivate researchers).

It was great to see some of the work people have been doing. The archeologists are training members of the public to survey key sites along the River Thames. The UCL Department of Space and Climate Physics holds all sorts of rocket-building and story-telling events at their posh campus in Guildford, Surrey.

And it's not just the scientists - UCL Scandanavian Studies are involved in Bright Club - a mix of comedy, music, art, new writing, science and performance; and the museums at UCL regularly hold events such as The Big Draw in the holidays for children and photography competitions.

I need to think what I can do to get people involved in my psychological, medical educational research...

I am certainly biassed, but UCL has such a varied mix of disciplines, it really is great. Here's a picture of students preparing to stage Twelfth Night in the quad this evening.

Should charity shops provide bargains?

Saw a snippet of Mary Queen of Charity Shops last night. I usually quite like her programmes, but this one seemed incredibly patronising - getting 82 year old women to practice selling vibrators; Mary prancing about in patent leather boots whilst informing volunteers that the boots are: "PATENT. Leather. VERY on season. ON season."

The idea, I think, was to get charity shops to sell designer donations at expensive prices. What then is the point of charity shops?

The best thing about shopping in charity shops is the chance that you might get a real bargain. Recently charity shops in posh parts of London have been pricing things up - you find second-hand Primark tops are more than they would have been originally and horrible frocks priced at £50 just because they are "designer". Makes me want to avoid them entirely. And that can't be good for business.

Actually, have just noticed a thread about a similar subject on the brilliant Cheapness Studies blog.

A moral challenge

My keyboard fell on my foot on Saturday night. That's an 88 weighted-key musical instrument rather than a contraption used for typing. The stand it was resting on was being held together by one of those small metal screwdrivers (it had previously collapsed with no damage), which drove into the top of my foot as the stand collapsed. Luckily it went into my foot blunt end first.

Being a hardcore rocker, I swabbed the blood with a bar towel, had a few vodkas to numb the pain and carried on playing. On Monday my foot was almost totally blue and the cut had a red circle around it.

I phoned an Emergency Medicine doctor friend who advise me to come in and see her. I work over the road from her hospital so at 1.30pm yesterday I strolled/limped in to the ER and then 30 minutes later strolled/limped back out again with my x-ray results, having seen both the doctor and the emergency nurse practitioner (luckily my foot is fine - no break to be seen).

Basically, I used my contacts to jump the queue. I feel bad about this, but at the same time didn't want to volunteer to take the usual 4 hours out of work to wait to be seen.

What should I have done?

Time (mis)management

I don't know why it is that, having already got out of bed 1.5h later than I should have, I then insist on blogging in a relaxed manner whilst leisurely finishing my breakfast. This may be too much information, but I haven't even got dressed yet - let alone had a shower. I should be at work in 5 minutes. WHY??? Some motivational issues here clearly.

Musical savant

Went to see Derek Paravicini play at the Royal Festival Hall last night.

I haven't seen him since 2003, when he participated in my third year undergrad psychology project, and I've never seen him perform like he did last night.

I remembered him being fast - despite his profound blindness and severe learning difficulties he could perfectly and within milliseconds replicate any 10-note chord I played - but last night his fingers positively flew over the keys of the Steinway Grand as he added chromatic embellishments to well-known favourites (Air on a G string; Black and White Rag, Flight of the Bumblebee etc). Accompanied by the Emerald Ensemble, Derek was obviously enjoying himself, and bowed several times to the rapt audience after each rendition. CBS were there, filming it all for a 60 minutes programme.

As a third year undergrad I had worked closely with an MSc student, Val Tadic, on the project with Derek, and it was great to see her again last night. She's now Dr. Tadic and is working at UCL's Institute of Child Health on a prestigious Medical Research Council funded postdoc. She, her partner Ian (also a PhD, working at Goldsmiths) and I had a long talk about the cut-throat nature of academia. It was good to talk to people in similar situations as myself, and to hear what it is like in different places.

Still thinking about my own academic future...

Surprise!

Saw Waiting for Godot, appropriately from the Gods of the Theatre Royal, Haymarket last night.

Just before I went in I spoke to my big sister on the phone. When she heard that I didn't really know anything about the play she said "oh, well I won't spoil the surprise at the end then".

So of course, I spent the whole play waiting for something exciting to happen.

I should have known better. This is the woman who, when I was 9 and she was 18, once worried me considerably by heavily impling that she was my birth mother and the lady I had thought was our mother was in fact my grandmother.

Thanks...

...for following me. Both of you. xx

Having written that, it sounds kind of wierd: "thanks for following me (down the street, wearing a dirty raincoat)".

Pinks

Here are some lovely pinks and sweet william (I think) that are currently residing in my flat.

Private view

There's a private view at Sesame tonight. It's a little gallery on Upper St, N1 where Gemma works. It's 3 Korean artists. I'm going to run along quickly before band practice in Camden.

Due to my massive keyboard I'm going to have to drive, which means I can't take advantage of the free alcohol. Boo.

Yum

Here's my breakfast of squashed raspberries and greek yoghurt on Brick Lane Bagel. F took the first bite and pronounced it to be "quite nice".



...and here's the empty plate. I bought it in the brilliant Anthropologie in New York donchaknow. Ironic really that it comes from thousands of miles away...

New old banger

Nearly ran over a cyclist today.

I was test driving an old banger I am considering buying from a friend of a friend today. The owner inexplicably has a pair of large furry dice hanging from the rearview mirror - no accounting for taste - and they obstructed my view.

Think I might buy the car though. Instead of dice I think I'll have mine and F's names across the top of the windscreen.

Wierd stuff - help needed

What is this stuff? Found it on the floor in the garden.

Summer resolution

The green (the communal garden I live on in London) is looking very lovely. I am lucky to live on it. Here are some pics.

I resolve to join the gardening group. It's in the morning of the first Sunday of every month (oops, missed it for June...)

Endangered in Clapham

I thought only the Irish and Autralians lived in Clapham. Turns out it's also home to the endangered Stag Beetle .

F was woken at 2am this morning by the sound of something large bumping around in his room. Imagine his surprise at seeing those red mandibles snapping at him in the middle of the night. Urgh.

He stuck a glass tumbler over it (which it filled almost completely) and had the prescience to take a few photos before setting it free out of the window.

I'll try and sort out uploading the photo he sent me on his phone.

Poison pen letters

Drama this evening at the Co-op AGM.

I live in a housing Co-operative, run on a voluntary basis by the tenant members. On Saturday an anonymous poison pen letter was sent to all 202 Co-op tenants, telling vicious lies about two of the Co-op's(unpaid) Management Committee.

The letter ensured that tonight's meeting boasted the largest turnout I've seen in 4 years of living here. It was heartening that almost all had come to support the MC members, as well as get a good dose of gossip.

I said "almost all" because although the letter was anonymous, it's pretty clear who wrote it, and he was present too, his downturned face hidden by the brim of his baseball cap.

After the two MC members had had made their dignified responses to the letter,the Co-op members started showing their anger. A woman addressed the 50-strong crowd:

"The letter wasn't signed, but we all know who wrote it. He's even here with us tonight. Why doesn't he speak out and tell us why he hates us so much?"

Our eyes scanned the room.

The man we all suspected raised himself to his feet and replied "you should refer to the facts before making accusations. I had nothing to do with those letters."

Another female voice called out from the other side of the hall: "well why have you stood up then? No-one said your name."

Busted.

In the pub afterwards there was a general feeling of good cheer. The people had rallied round to protect their community. We will stand together.

The letter will be taken to the police and if they can prove who wrote it, the Co-op will take action.

Internet dating turns people into merchandise

Quite a few female friends have started internet dating and I worry for their romantic souls.

A typical scenario:

You are a good looking woman, especially in your profile picture. You get a lot, and I mean a LOT of men messaging you.

You inspect each potential mate closely for superficial blemishes before discarding those who work in finance/like Heavy Metal/have long hair.

You try before you buy, dating many in the same week, or even in the same day. If they don't tick all of your boxes (what, they don't like the Sopranos?) you ditch them - making sure you get an end-of-the-night snog to satify your ego (it's not THEM who doesn't fancy YOU). You leave safe in knowledge that there are plenty more on the list you can pick for tomorrow.

The number of weekday dates you're having is hurting your liver and your bank balance. You pray your work's I.T. department doesn't notice you're spending all day on www.mysexyfriend.com

You start to measure your worth by the number of messages you receive every day. One of your "favourites" is online, yet he hasn't messaged you. Why not? Did you come across as needy in your last email to him? Why hasn't that one you saw on Tuesday messaged you yet? Did you look fat in real life?

If you think about it, although you try not to, you know that they are a browser, just like you are. You're no more special to them than they are to you. You're just another girl on the conveyor belt.

All this is fine if all you want is a string of men to go to dinner/have sex with. But if, deep down, you think you might be looking for love, and you're not careful, internet dating is a risk to your self-esteem.

I had to get rid of my wall on facebook for similar self-esteem reasons - "why have only 3 people written on it today? Does everyone hate me?" etc. ad nauseum.

My advice? Don't expose your fragile ego to the dirty outside world too much. It'll go rusty.

P.S. P's (male) housemate spends his weeks having sex with women he meets on dating sites. At least 3 per week. Perhaps they all know that's the only thing he's after. But perhaps some of them don't.

running on empty

Just took a whole reel of phantom film on my camera. Got to 36 on the dial and it just kept winding on. And on. And on. Duh.