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Hi all, It’s been over a month since I last wrote and there is not much news but so much to say. It’s my third last day of a two and a half week stint working as a receptionist in a software development company in London. I don’t have anything to do right now, although the last week has been hectic. Funnily enough, the software company, who only has a total of 75 employees has an employee from their Sydney office over in London at the moment. And of all the companies and all the temps in London, the company I’m working for employs Jenny Hoffman, with whom I played soccer last year in a Northern Beaches team. Not only that, they also employ someone by the name of Fred who Nick used to work with, and stays in touch with, from Computer Share. Very small world. Well, my daily duties include the likes of opening the blinds, buying milk, water and the Financial Times from the news agent across the road, turning the coffee machine on, going through the post and notifying anyone who has any to come and pick it up, sticking stamps on envelopes that people leave for outgoing mail… occasionally I have to weigh the envelope to determine the value of the stamps required, typing up letters where only a hard copy exists but a soft copy is needed, sticking labels on brochures, consolidating information from everyone’s annual review into a readable report for the managers, answering the phones, trying to get rid of the multitude of recruitment agencies that insist on calling despite the fact that this company hardly utilizes the services of recruitment agencies, transferring external callers, sticking return-to-sender stickers on junk mail, unsubscribing from fax spam databases, getting coffee, tea or water for interview candidates that arrive early, signing for parcels, booking travel arrangements and accommodation, changing the CCTV security video, turning off the coffee machine, and closing the blinds. Last time I wrote, on the 2nd of September,  I was expecting to get our new laptop the next day. It’s now the mid October and we still don’t have our laptop.  It’s a long story of outstanding incompetence which I don’t care to bore you with, but I’ll just tell you the last of all the things that could possibly have happened. According to the order tracking system on the internet, our laptop was scheduled to be delivered, for the 2nd time after they went to the wrong address the first time, between 8am and 6pm on Friday 11th October. Our concierge with whom Nick had left a signed letter authorizing her to sign for the delivery when it arrived, works from 6:30am to 3:30pm. She promised to call Nick if and when the computer arrived on Friday. By 3pm it still hadn’t arrived, so Nick left work early and went home to wait in case it was delivered between 3:30 and 6pm. At 5:40 the delivery guy rang the buzzer and Nick went down to sign for and get the laptop from the van. The delivery guy was inside the back of his van when Nick came down stairs, and when he appeared from out of the van he told Nick that our laptop wasn’t in the van. Apparently there were two sets of paperwork. One said that our order was to be delivered on that day. The second said that they couldn’t find it in the depot that morning, so couldn’t load it into the delivery van before it left. Oh, and also last time I wrote I’d just decided to that Java course, which turned out to be a big mistake. According to the brochure, the tutors are there to help you 5 days a week between 9 and 5, possibly later. What it fails to mention is that every employee gets a half day on Friday to get home before sunset for Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath. And when I called on a Monday to get some help and no one was at the office, and the receptionist wouldn’t reveal why, but wished me a happy new year, I realized that they didn’t work on Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year. And of course they don’t work on Yom Kippur either. All these holidays just happened to be in September. And then one time I sent my code in by email and called to go through it over the phone, but the tutor was sitting at his desk and he’d given me his colleagues email address to send my code to, so he kept on running back and forth between the phone and the computer, not thinking to send the code to himself so he could have the code and the phone in one place. And as well as this, the solutions that they send were absolutely so poorly written, and in several instances not the solution to what they’d asked for, and in some cases just bad coding practice, that I’d probably be better off without them. The list goes on.  I had a one hour meeting with them, which took 5 hours out of my day including travel time, and they extended the evaluation time for an extra month which is just coming to an end now, and I’ve decided to send the course ware back. If I pay £2,500 pounds, approximately $AUD7,500 I expect top notch course materials and impeccable service. So now I’ve learned a little bit of Java, but will not be completing the course. I’ll look into learning somewhere else. Ruiairidh has a Learn Java in 21 Days book that might be useful. Nick and I have been so unlucky with several things, I can’t even remember what other ridiculous things have gone wrong for us, but there is a list. Oh yeah, like every time I go into our local supermarket, ASDA, or the next most local one, TESCO, I set the security alarms off. Those things you walk through and buzz if you’re stealing something. Well they buzz when I walk into the store! I always take my own bag in, and I’ve handed it over to the security guy, my bum bag which I use as my wallet, my keys, everything until all I’ve got is the clothes I’m wearing, and the bloody buzzer still goes off. There is always someone standing watch at the door, and sometimes they escort me out so someone else doesn’t come and demand to see my receipt and search my bag. The problem is, there are so many different people on different security shifts that it never seems to be the same person. No one can ever just say “oh, it’s you” and wave me through. We have to go through the checking procedure every single time. For the first week or so it was funny, now it’s just annoying. I went to see a fantastic exhibition the other day with Sam’s girlfriend, Ainsley. She’s a nurse and thought it was amazing as well. It’s called Body World and has been put together by a German professor, and it comprises 220 bodies that have been donated to science. Each body has been displayed differently, for example, most of them have had their skin removed, however some have sections of skin left on. Some are just the muscular and nervous system, others are just the blood vessels and respiratory system. Others are just the skeleton, some have the internal organs left in, others have the internal organs next to the display. It sounds gruesome I know, but it’s fantastic what they’ve done. All the bodies and the pieces have been what’s called “plastinated”, they are dehydrated and then the water is replaced with a type of plastic which sets and retains the figures shape. So even for example the arm that was only blood vessels, still looked exactly like a human arm despite having no visibly solid structure or container. There were also bodies that had been sliced up into very thin, slide like cross-sections and each cross section displayed in a laminate. There were people with gal-stones, people with stomach ulcers, people who’d had hip replacements, knee replacements, bi-passes, pace makers, smokers lungs, city dwelling non-smokers lungs, a woman with an unborn child in her womb. There were children with deformities, embryos which died at half weekly intervals, so you could compare the size and complexity of each embryo’s at the beginning of it’s tiny life. A person with chronic scoliosis,  Siamese twins, an unborn baby with Spina Bifida. There were people in different poses, such as playing chess, fencing, swimming, riding a horse, where the horse had been skinned and opened up for viewing as well, someone pole vaulting,  a man holding his own complete skin draped over his arm. I think for me, one of the best ones was a man who had been separated into three segments at the top. His head was in 3 pieces, the skull, representing the skeletal frame, the brain, representing the nervous system, and then the shell of the face, with the eye sockets and eyeballs, representing the shell. These 3 different systems, all complete, came down, and gradually, by the time the body structure got to the extremities, being the fingers and toes, the three systems had entwined into one, making complete foot, and a complete hand. But the workmanship, if you call it that, was just incredible, it all seemed seamless. I bought the book and also the DVD which has an interview with the professor. I haven’t watched it as yet, but I know that the plastination process was invented in 1978. If the exhibition ever comes to Sydney or where ever you are in the world, I highly recommend you see it. And, for those who get squeamish, and are uncomfortable with the words tendons, and ligament, and blood, don’t worry, ‘cause to be honest, I’m like that as well. I can’t even watch a needle go in on TV, or watch an operation or anything, but this for some reason doesn’t feel weird at all. It’s the human at it’s most exposed. Most of the donors were men, apart from bits and pieces, the only 2 complete women were the one with the unborn baby, and the swimmer. I wonder what the racial composition of the donors are. When there’s no skin to judge by, it’s impossible to tell one person from another. Also went to see a play with Woody Harellson (White Men Can’t Jump) and Kyle MacLachlan (Sex and the City). It was just a two man play, and it was funny, we enjoyed it. Nick and I also went to see My Fair Lady at West End. Both of us had seen the live production a couple of times before, and seen it on TV. It’s a special musical to me, because of the songs, for those of you at my 21st, that my Dad made up to the music. I didn’t particularly like this production, they had modernized it too much for my liking, but the familiar songs were still wonderful. A few weeks ago we went over to Greg and Lorraine’s house for dinner. They’re a Kiwi couple that were on the Brazil to Peru tour with us, and they live about a 3 minutes walk away from where we live.  We were looking forward to some of Lorraine’s cooking ‘cause she was one of the best cooks on our tour, but alas, she now works in the offices of Marks and Spencer, so we had Marks and Spencer pre-prepared food, which she is obliged to take home for a free taste test every so often. We’ve had lots of people over to our apartment for dinner too. Nick loves cooking, and is really good at it. I enjoy cooking too, but now that we’re both working I’m sometimes happy to settle for some toast. Our cupboards and fridge is always filled with heaps of good food. Nick’s really into Asian cooking, like Thai curries and stir fries and stuff. I cook in bulk, like we do at home, so we don’t need to cook every night, stuff like lasagna, ratatouille, bolognaise. Our specialty is racks of lamb in a homemade marinade with a side serving of diced potato and sweet potato sprinkled with fresh rosemary, which we pick from a garden down the road,  followed by a scrumptious, and now completely perfected, sticky date pudding with cream and ice cream. Yum. Admittedly the first few times we tried the sticky date pudding things did go wrong. We got the recipe from Nick’s Mum, and when she sent it in an email it lost the column formatting that it was in, and the ingredients to the pudding and the sauce got merged together, but still under the two separate headings of the pudding and the sauce. Of course, we didn’t know that the formatting had gone askew, and we were wondering why 2 eggs go into the making of a caramel sauce. But we dutifully followed the recipe we had, and poured the slightly lumpy (with small pieces of fried egg) source over the rather dry and eggless pudding. The next time we made it, we wondered, when it said ‘add sugar’ to the pudding mixture, do we use the white sugar or the brown sugar. We decided on the brown, but then when we got to making the caramel sauce, it just didn’t look quite right made on white sugar. And of course, my Mum is reading this now saying to herself, “Niqui, I tell you every time, read through the entire recipe before you even start to do anything. Get all the information first, and then act.” Before I started working I took myself on a little day trip to Harrods, the infamous, outrageously expensive one-off department store in Nightsbridge. I got all dressed up in a suit, and heels and makeup so the shop assistants wouldn’t ignore me. But at one point I was looking at Aramis, the brand of cologne that my Dad uses, and he’d asked me to buy duty free when I left the US. So I just wanted to compare prices of what I paid to what it is in pounds. There was an elderly gentleman also looking at the Aramis display standing right next to me. A Harrod’s assistant came over, and stood right between the man and myself, his back to me, almost touching my shoulder and he said to the man “May I help you sir?” He totally ignored me. How rude. What a waste of getting all dressed up in those uncomfortable shoes that give you blisters, and a suit skirt that always swivels around so that the zipper at the back, and the slit at the bottom are always on the side if not at the front, and a handbag that doesn’t even fit anything in it, and putting all that gunk on my face. What an absolute waste! I wandered around for a few hours, I suppose you’d normally say, admiring the merchandise, but it wasn’t getting too much admiration from me.  Fur coats made out of real rabbit fur, slinky dresses that cost a bomb but look quite ridiculous, bridal dresses that look about as comfortable as wearing a hills hoist, and  shoes that haven’t enough room for 5 toes. Then there were Christmas decorations which would leave you too poor to buy anyone a  present, a pet shop with a huge Blue and Yellow Macaw, born in captivity, but who’s ancestors were  probably brought in illegally from the Amazon, for sale for £2,000, and who’ll probably spend his entire life in the small cage in the pet shop. Then there are the antique rooms, with massive grandfather clocks, and old gramophones, and those huge, yellow with age looking, globes of the world that sit and can spit in a big wooden frame. They even had a really old fashion duke box type thing. And then there were the really modern things, like glass sculptures and furniture that looks like it belongs in a huge sterile room that you need to put on a protective suit in order to enter.  The whole Harrods experience gave me a new perspective on the verb ‘shopping’. Last Sunday we went over to Luka and Sarah’s new place which is not too far away from our place. Sarah is Canadian and so she’d invited us over with another Canadian friend of hers and their 2 flat-mates for a Canadian Thanksgiving. We were wondering for what the Canadians give thanks, and concluded that it’s for being born north of the border, and so not being American. But apparently it’s really thanking the native Canadians for showing their ancestors how to survive in the partially Arctic country. Whatever their reasons, it was a good excuse to have some lovely roasted turkey with stuffing, gravy and cranberry sauce, and veges followed by a traditional pumpkin pie. Luka and Sarah did an awesome job, and everything was delicious. And after that we went down to their apartment complex’ leisure center and played some ping pong, swam in the indoor, heated swimming pool and spa, before going home. The weather here is only just starting to turn bad. It’s getting really, really cold in the mornings and the evenings. The bad thing is that I rug up in my work clothes, long coat, scarf and beanie for the walk to the DLR (train), but then, when you get on, and regardless of  whether or not it’s full of people, it’s always boiling hot due to lack of adequate ventilation. So I’ll wedge in to the often crowded carriage and take off all my winter layers, trying not to fall on people as the DLR wobbles around on it’s single track. And then, when I get to my stop and get out, I have to put it all back on again. Personally, despite having not seen much of the place, I think London is a rather vile city. The travel system is pretty good, except it’s always so uncomfortably hot without windows. However long you spend traveling, which when I was working, was about 1.5 hours a day, is spent underground. I’m not a mobile phone junky, but for those who are, there is no reception underground for mobile phones, so if you’re running late or get into trouble, you can’t notify anyone. And then, after my train ride I had a 15 minute walk between the station and work. This should have been a blessing, but rather, it’s an awful experience because of all the pollution. It’s difficult to breathe and if I had a choice in the matter I’d probably choose not to.  There are always major road works going on, and all the traffic is at a stand still. It’s a lot faster to walk than jump on a bus. Yesterday when I went to return the office key, which I forgot to leave behind on my last day on Friday, I walked the 15 minutes to the office and half way back, and the traffic had moved less than 200 meters. I’m not sure why people choose to drive in the city. I can’t imagine it would be a pleasant, efficient, economic, environmentally friendly, or timely means of transportation. I’m debating what I should do next. My plane ticket home is in early December. If I get a 3 month or however long contract now, I’d take it and push my return date forward to January or whenever. If I come home without having worked an IT job in London I’d feel like I’d have failed this experience or opportunity. But if I went home, I don’t know that I’d be motivated to come back, with the economy like it is, and not even liking the city I’m living in. And it’s too expensive to live here without a job, and they’re isn’t any point in doing that anyway. I’m very much looking forward to coming home and seeing everyone again, and sleeping in my own little room again, and seeing many of my photos for the first time. I was looking forward to coming home to my 5 little mice, but they have all died over the last couple of months, despite Mum and Dad looking after them and playing with them and loving them. I’m looking forward to hearing my cousin Josh playing his trumpet, I’m sure he’s improved a lot ‘cause he’s just been chosen out of all the trumpeters in his school band to give a demonstration to all the kids who are considering playing an instrument next year. And my other cousin Jez is learning the clarinet. And my other cousin Aaron is now flying skydivers up for their big jump in Picton or Camden or somewhere. And Yvettie has finished school now and is doing some sort of design work, as is my brother Jem who finally graduated from something business oriented at uni and is living and studying architecture in Canberra. Well, whatever I decide I’m giving ample warning, Mum, you better start clearing all your junk out of my room now and leave it as tidy as I left it a year ago. And also, of absolutely no interest to anyone but my family, I’d like to announce that over the last two weeks I have grown my nails and they look lovely now. That’s it for this episode. Happy birthday to Dad and Ilan S., and to Nana wherever you are, I miss you so much. Congratulations to Bensi on his recent engagement, to Nick and Linda on their wedding day, to Lucy and Scott on their wedding day, and to Nana and Papa on their anniversary. Ta ta for now, Nique