Goblin Talk

One Goblin, slightly used.

She is looking for a home for a few years with a kind, loving family who will look beyond her obvious flaws and social ineptitude and get to know her for the lovely person she is. It’s true. Beyond the clumsy and awkward exterior is actually a very nice, intelligent person.

As you may guess from the above paragraph, the interview last week didn’t go well and I wasn’t successful so this is my Monday Morning Nag Post to remind you all that I am looking for a job. I won’t say I’m at all surprised actually. They were very kind and told me they decided to go with someone with more experience – which may be true, it’s entirely possible – however, I suspect part of the reason may have also been because of what a colossal mess that particular day was. It didn’t exactly help me to portray myself in the best light or perform to the best of my abilities. That kind of thing.

However, hope springs eternal.

A few weeks ago, Angel mentioned that it might help to know what the hell I can actually do if I’m going to nag for job possibilities on a weekly basis. Of course, I admitted that she had a bloody good point.

The fact of the matter is that it’s actually not very much – experience wise. Attitude wise, well, I reckon if given the opportunity, I could happily do almost anything – except sales, I would be useless at that. That’s not arrogance or a high expectation of my abilities, that’s purely because I love learning more than most things. Also, I’m quite desperate to prove myself so I tend to work my fingers to the bone to do just that.

Then there’s the education side of things. Well. That’s such a pain in my rear to tell you the truth.

When I finished matric, I went straight into studying a degree in Communication Science because I was keen to go into copywriting. However, being seventeen and just beginning to find out all about myself, it soon became a case of not being sure if that was, in fact, what I wanted to do. The smart thing would have been to take a gap year and perhaps do some travelling to figure things out, but at the time I felt absolutely sure of what I wanted to do in life.

After a year and a half into the degree though, the rest of my life seemed a long way off and, at 18, it suddenly seemed like I might be making a mistake so I decided to give it a rest for the moment and work for my mom for a bit and try and figure things out.

A short while later, it occurred to me that I loved movies and that perhaps that would be something I would love to do. Thankfully (or perhaps, not so thankfully, the jury is still out on this one), I have a mother who was willing to help her kids pursue their dreams (however temporary). So off I went to study film. Of course, as anyone who begins studying film, I had this idea that I would like to go into directing. That didn’t last long though. After a few months of studying, I was absolutely taken with editing. I loved the fact that I was able to combine my love for technology and film in a creative way. To be honest, I was much better at Scriptwriting, but it didn’t offer me much of a challenge and I preferred to major in something that was, well, more challenging. So I did.

After two years, I completed my diploma with a major in editing. And then I was stuck. I hadn’t studied at the most organised institution and, as anyone will tell you, having a showreel is a bit of a must to begin working in the industry. Of course, the show reels weren’t something we really got to in our second year – it was mainly something you did during your optional third year (which I didn’t do because of staff restructuring and a loss of faith in the institution). Now, I could have made a showreel from what I did have, but I didn’t feel those projects were nearly good enough to show anyone and, quite frankly, many of the projects were never seen again after disappearing into the store room – mainly because they were checked out by other people and never returned.

This all meant that when it came to trying to find work, I felt completely unprepared and completely lacking confidence in my abilities.

This will become a running theme. I know I’m capable of many things and I know I’m actually rather good at some things, however, I do lack confidence at times and in the past this has meant I didn’t even try. These days of course, I’m desperate enough to work that I try my luck at anything.

Anyway, where was I…yes, lacking confidence after completing the diploma.

For a year, I tried to find work but to be honest, I let a lot of opportunities pass me by for fear that I would end up letting someone down because I felt they could find someone better than me and more experienced than me. Clearly, this didn’t work for me.

So, I decided to return to studying my communications degree (after a brief stint starting a BCom in Accounting). At which point, the poo hit the fan. Up until this point, I was lucky enough to have parents who were willing to allow me to find myself and figure life out. I was able to work part time for my mom to earn my keep. That all changed when the great scandal broke and the business was put into liquidation.

Without any means of supporting themselves and having all their funds frozen for the moment, I went out in a big way to find a job to help out (because god knows, there was no way my brother could do it all from Australia). Fortunately, I was lucky enough to find one quite quickly and soon began working as a creative writer/scriptwriter for a GPS based radio station.

After about 9 months of writing, they needed someone to start marketing their product because it wasn’t exactly doing well on it’s own. So, out of the ranks I was chosen to try my hand at doing online marketing for them. This was mainly due to the fact that I was the most geeky person they had apart from the IT boys who had their hands full as it is.

Five months later, I quit. You all know the story why there.

Since then, I’ve been applying for anything and everything without much success (clearly). It wasn’t exactly the best time for me to quit with the job market being the way it is and me not having much experience or formal qualifications (or the shiny ability to stun people during interviews).

And then we get to this post.

I’m not going to give up. I’m keen like a bean to work and to prove myself and don’t think I’ve spent these few months just sitting on my ass doing nothing.

Phillipa from Glad to be a Girl hooked me up with someone looking for people to do part time web testing so at least I’ve been able to make some cash. Then there’s future possibilities. To broaden my horizons, I’ve decided to let my geeky soul run things for a while and have decided to get my A+, which will be followed by the N+ and then, who knows. Like I mentioned a while ago, I might decide to go the programming or web development route, however, it’s perfectly possibly that I may decide to do a CCNA or similar thing instead.

All this being said, my heart and soul will always firmly be rooted with the written word. While I love technology and the geeky side of things and am not at all opposed to doing something in line with that part of me, I would love to spend my days surrounded by words. Of course, like anyone with this inclination I’ve silently been working on writing a long little story (I’m loathe to say book) in the free time that I have but, as I’ve mentioned previously, I would love to go and study it fully. Unfortunately, even Unisa is a bit expensive to do it these days so that will just have to wait a while.

So there you have it.

One half of a degree, one diploma, some general personal assistant experience, writing experience, basic marketing experience and some web testing experience. All in a package of an intelligent and super keen little Goblin looking for a job.

If you know of anything or anyone in Cape Town who could use me, drop me a comment/mail

UPDATE: Voting is closed and the contest is at an end. Thank you to everyone who obliged, I’m sure Briget is very grateful for your support. According to the number of votes, she came out the winner in the end but we’ll have to wait and see what the official result is after the…problems with the Boys side of the contest.

You’ll notice a small (or not so small) addition to the side bar: The Nerdies 2010 girls finalists poll.

Take a second and cast your vote for the nerdiest chick (BecauseI) and the chick who pays me the most to do this (BecauseI). She is paying me quite a bit right now. Although, I can always be bought off to campaign for you with a puppy or two. Drop them off at my front door and I’ll have your back in no time.

Seriously though, if you haven’t, cast your vote. If you have…well then, er, well done for doing your part?

P.S. A vote for BecauseI is a vote for freedom, porn and puppies. I’m just saying.

P.P.S. I already know what you’re going to say. I’ve told you why.

Parents fascinate me. They honestly do. As someone who has no inclination to breed and can only equate children to being something icky, I am absolutely fascinated by people who NEED to have kids. Mainly because I don’t understand it.

Those that are desperate to get up the duff have told me why kids are so great and why they just have to have one of their own and all that but none of their reasons make any sense to me.

Something to love and care for? Get a dog, you’ll at least get unconditional love that way. Or if you want something to love with one hell of an attitude, get a cat.

Carry on your genes and leave a legacy? Erm…yeah, I REALLY don’t understand this one.

You just really want to be a mother/father? Dude, I so don’t get it.

That should be expected I suppose. I am, after all, trying to append reasoning and logic to the whole “let’s spawn” decision…which I can’t very well do because it’s mainly an emotional thing yes?

Anyway, the point is, I just don’t get it. At all.

And maybe that’s why I don’t understand how parents come to some decisions when it comes to raising their kids.

This week, I’m baffled by the “war toys” decision. So many parents have decided that their children will absolutely not play with toy guns or anything that propagates possibly violent behaviour. Er…okay.

For me, this decision is right up there with not allowing your kids to watch Peter Pan because they might decide to try and fly off the top bunk of the bunk bed. Or not allowing them to read the Chronicles of Narnia because they might decide that their closet is the doorway to a magical kingdom and drown in a sea of clothes. Yes, it’s that ridiculous to me.

Let me explain why.

I grew up with an older brother and his friends. There were always little army men and pellet guns and toy bows and arrows around the place. Hell, my favourite thing to play with were my dad’s practice fencing foils. It was bloody great fun pretending I was Han Solo and shooting the little lego men first (Ha!) or pretending I was Zorro and slashing my teddy bears with the swords.

But…

I always knew they were toys and not to be used on real people. Want to know why? Because I damn well knew the difference between pretend and real life…and if I hadn’t known it, my mother would have damn well made sure I learnt it quickly.

Fast forward a few years and you end up with me today. I still play with toy guns, except they all exist as bits of code. I spend hours playing Quake and other games, shooting the crap out of people and it’s still great fun.

That doesn’t mean I’m any more violent than the average person though or going to pick up a gun tomorrow and shoot somebody. In fact, it probably makes that less likely.

The kicker is though, that despite the fact that I love toy guns and paintball and pellet guns and all those things, I’m one of those people violently opposed to actual gun ownership. I think it’s fucking stupid. I worked with a guy last year who carried his gun everywhere claiming it was vital for personal safety. Now what is the point? As far as I’m aware, you’re not allowed to keep it loaded, so even if you are one of the people who are unfortunate enough to experience a home invasion or other form of crime, you’d have to run to get your gun (often kept in a safe) and then still take the time to load it – by which time you’d probably be in a spot of trouble. I also told him that he’s more likely to get killed than anything else because that’s exactly what happens. Many people who own guns in the name of protecting themselves, end up being shot by their very own guns. It’s like you’re paying your very own hitman.

Gun ownership argument aside though, the point is…it’s not the toys that are the problem. It’s the moral code and belief system that you raise your child with that is. Your six year old playing with a plastic pea shooter is not the only thing that is going to create a serial killer. It’s also you. Or perhaps genetics. Or some other outside cause. Or  a combination of everything.

But hey, I’m not a parent so what do I know? Although, it does beg the question…How many of you grew up playing Cops and Robbers? Or Cowboys and Indians? Or (if anyone was like our family) Terminator? Most people I grew up with had a pellet gun at some stage. The 90’s was a big time for those things. And not one of them has turned out to be a mass murdering bastard yet.

I’m just saying.

Do you remember the movie? Michael Douglas is at the end of his tether and a traffic jam and an expensive coke drives him over the edge?

Well, that’s what today feels like.

I had an interview that I was pretty excited about this morning – it was for something that I felt like I could do and do well.

Of course, I hadn’t planned on everything being a bit pear shaped this morning:

7:50 a.m. – Wake up in a blind panic. The alarms hadn’t gone off but the sun coming through the curtain seemed a bit too bright to be early. Yes, that’s right folks. Two alarms failed to go off. My cellphone clock inexplicably reset itself whilst the battery operated clock had decided to commit suicide sometime after I checked that it was set to the correct time last night.

7:51 a.m. – Check the time and realise that the Boyf has to be at work in 9 minutes. So not going to happen. Guess this will be the first time he is late in three years. It’s been a good run.

8:05 a.m. – Run out of the house to the car to try and get him to work without incident.

8:10 a.m. – Traffic. Heavier than usual. People don’t understand that green means go.

8:20 a.m. – Drop off the Boyf. Begin trip back home.

8:30 a.m. – Run into the house to get dressed. Somehow, the shirt I had ironed and hung up had fallen off the hanger and now lay in a crinkled heap on the floor.

8:45 a.m. – Hair not co-operating. Fek.

8:50 a.m. – Can’t find car keys. Fek again.

8:52 a.m. – Found car keys. Running out of door.

9 a.m. – Robots that were working half an hour before are suddenly not working. Wait behind long queue of cars while people try and work out how a four way stop works. It’s not difficult guys.

9:10 a.m. – Google Maps and my map book lied to me about the location of the place in Roeland Street. It’s not where they said it would be.

9:15 a.m. – Drive up Roeland street for the fifth time trying to find the place. Still can’t.

9:18 a.m. – Phone the Boyf. Ask him to phone the place and find out exactly where their office is.

9:25 a.m. – Find the office. Can’t find the security guard and not at all sure where to park.

9:28 a.m. – Try and phone their office to find out where I can park, have to stop while dialling to get my car out of the way of someone trying to get past.

9:30 a.m. – (Supposed to be inside already) Phone their office and get told where to park.

9:32 a.m. – Talk to the security guard who has appeared to find out where the hell the door is.

9:33 a.m. – Run up stairs and walk into interview dishevelled, out of breath and rambling like a complete tit. I really shouldn’t be allowed to do interviews.

Of course, these times are an estimate. I actually think it was slightly later that I finally got in there.

And I had to do a copy test. During which I forgot every single thing I had ever learnt about the English language.

I don’t really expect them to call. For a change, you can’t put this lack of confidence down to my low self esteem, I really did bollocks it up.

The icing on the cake though?

11 a.m. (or there about) – Stop at the shop to get something to eat. ATM promptly decides to swallow card. Thankfully, they were refilling the machines so someone was able to get it for me. Nearly had a mini breakdown.

How I made it home without having a car accident or having a block of ice from a plane passing overhead fall on me, I will never know.

It’s review time!

Eddie Izzard

Maybe I’m a bit biased since I absolutely adore the man but the show was brilliant. I laughed until I gave myself a headache. Quite an achievement actually.

There was one issue though.

The audience.

I know we’re rather a reserved bunch when it comes to musical events (which has always dismayed me a bit) but considering the price the tickets for Eddie cost, I was expecting something better for this. I was completely let down. Yes, there were many people who were happily enjoying it, but there was quite a few people who looked like they had been turned to stone and were incapable of laughing. Like the pair sitting in front of us.

This middle aged couple were sitting so still and quiet throughout the show that when we got an interval I was actually surprised to see them get up and move – up until that point I had assumed they were cardboard cutouts or very well made mannequins.

Maybe this is the reason we don’t get many phenomenal international acts. For them, it must feel like they’re performing at a funeral. Get some life into you people, for fucks sakes, you were paying almost R600 each to be there.

I also didn’t realise that some people were so incredibly slow on the uptake either. But having jokes go over your head because you’re daft is an issue for another day.

But yes, Eddie was brilliant. I loved all his teeny tiny references to his earlier work…and to movies. Of course, I probably would have been happy if he had just come on stage, said hello and then buggered off again. Really. I know this because when he came out, I cried.

I do that from time to time. When I got to see the Offspring live? I cried.

Top Gear live? I cried.

Meeting Macauley Culkin? Well, I didn’t cry because I didn’t actually know at the time. But if I had known, I would have cried. In fact, since I was about 10 years old, I probably would have done a lot more than cry and the whole experience would have been a lot different. At which point I must say, yes the kid did silly things in those Home Alone movies, but he was actually a really lovely person to talk to. And his parents. And one of his brothers, I don’t actually know which one.

Anyway, the point is, I tend to cry whenever I get to see something live that I never thought I’d ever see. Now that, ladies and gents, is appreciation.

Now, our other review.

The Brightest Star in the Sky

This is Marian Keyes latest novel.

What’s it about?

At 66, Star Street in Dublin, someone is watching over the lives of the people living in its flats. But no one is aware of it – yet… One of them is ready to take the plunge and fall in love; another is torn between two very different lovers. For some, secrets they want to stay buried will come to light and for others, the unveiling of those secrets will have tragic consequences. Fate is on its way to Star Street, bringing with it love and tragedy, friendship and heartbreak, and the power to change their lives in the most unexpected of ways…

It’s not quite her usual fare. In fact, it feels like she’s feeling the pressure of all this interest in paranormal romance and what not and tried to include a bit of it in her writing. Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite work.

Her earlier books all had me sitting HAVING to finish them in one sitting. I HAD to know what happened next. Sometimes, I laughed so much that I had to take a moment to compose myself.

This one however, doesn’t have quite the same draw. I mean, it’s not so bad that you’d just put it down and not finish it. It holds your interest enough to ensure that you want to get to the end, but it’s fairly predictable at times and there wasn’t actually any moment where I laughed out loud. It isn’t exactly that type of book. There are a few issues dealt with here that you can’t really joke about. They’re a bit sensative. I mean, I joke about them, but normal people don’t.

Another problem is that some people find this particular brand of storytelling confusing. You see, the book starts off on Day 66…or Day 61, I can’t quite remember…and then moves onto Day 65 (or Day 60). This made some people think that they were reading the book in reverse, i.e. time was going backwards. Of course, if they didn’t realise this wasn’t the case by chapter 3, then they’re bleeding morons, but whatever, we’ll just say the countdown can confuse some people.

Then there are the characters. Because there are so many, you’re chopping and changing between them with quite a bit of regularity and at times it was really hard to connect with some of them, a problem I’ve never really faced before with Marian’s books.

The message in the book though, well, that’s a very good, life affirming one. That’s what I love most about her books. You always walk away feeling better about life despite the bad/terrible/devestating things that can happen.

So to give it an actual rating, hmm…I’d say about a 5/10. It’s not bad, but it’s not brilliant either. It’s…average. *shrug*

And with that, have a happy happy weekend and all that jazz.