My Facebook fortune cookie of the moment says “You will make a life-changing decision today” – I got my job today! I went for an internship in Anaesthesia at college, had the interview today and got offered the job over the phone this evening! Yay!

Had an interesting week last week! Last Saturday (15th) was my vet school year’s reunion, which was surreal, all of us in a lecture theatre again. It was ok, we had a nice meal in the evening and I got to catch up with the Desserter, Little Chef and the German One among other people, though significant other people weren’t there. Sunday was a mini version of the same, with a chat and a tour around the campus, good fun. I faffed for the beginning of the week, and on Wednesday me and mum ate sushi in Southend, which was lovely. It’s both our birthdays this month so we eat out a lot. On Friday I took Pumpkin to be speyed at my local vets as they have extra monitoring equipment and I worry about Pump’s breathing etc. I speyed her but my ex-boss was around to help. Things are a-changing though – he’s off this month too to pastures new. Pumpkin’s fine though, and hopefully the better for being de-uterused. Later on G’ma took us out for Indian at a local place which was fanTAStic.

On Saturday Mum, Ding and I went back to Stratford-upon-Avon to see Twelfth Night (Ding didn’t, she went a-visiting) which was truly hilarious! It had John Lithgow and Siobhan Redmond in it, but the star of the show was James Clyde who played Feste the fool – amazing singing voice and played piano and great comic timing! We ate in the Rose & Crown in Stratford, a pub I highly recommend, amazing British food. And on Sunday we drove Ding back to Soton, went shopping where I bought some new shirts and also Gordon Ramsay and Marco Pierre White’s autobiographies, and then we ate Domino’s pizza back at Dings

Going back to work on Monday was a bit of a drag, but the experience was made a lot better by unexpectedly receiving presents! Apparently people like me. Nice to know!

I love reality TV for it’s ability to make you question your perception of the world or exercise your ability to discuss. Case in point, Hell’s Kitchen (of course… *drools* Marco… ahem) and the recent issues with Jim Davidson and his “old fashioned nature” – an inability to understand that nowadays saying “I think gays are equal to the rest of us” is seen as offensive in that it suggests the speaker thinks a) sexuality is a suitable way to separate society into groups and b) that comments like that need saying. A bit like me saying “I totally think black people are as clever as white people!” – comments like that are offensive/irritating in that the speaker seems to think that saying and even thinking things like that is “good”, is a sign that they are tolerant and modern etc – whereas in fact it underlines an unconscious belief of the speaker that race/sex/sexuality/religion/etc could affect equality in anyway, that it needs confirming that they don’t believe it does.

Conversely, is the world just becoming too hung up on PC? If a female driver does something stupid in front of me I curse “pah! bloody women drivers… *mutter mutter*”. That’s not PC – I (especially as a woman driver, though admittedly probably the most aggressive female driver I know) should not view stupid driving from a woman as a product of them being a female. But I often do. If a bloke drives stupidly I either curse at him also (but make no mention of his sex) or if I can I out-accelerate him and make him look silly.

Takes me back to listening to someone telling me and some other people a English, Irish, Scottish joke some years ago – mid-joke some bloke piped up “I’m half Scottish and I take offence at these jokes”. I immediately replied “Yeah? I’m half English, 1\8 Scottish and 1\8 Irish, and I love ‘em.” If there is no intent to disrespect or insult behind the joke then what’s to be offended about? Yes, you do have to be careful in that innocent use of words can encourage offensive use of words, but you can’t wrap yourself up in cotton wool to protect yourself from these non-threats. When my boss can’t understand why I say or do something, he looks at me incredulously and says “Anyone can tell you’re from Essex…” This isn’t a slur against Essex or me, it’s called “teasing”. And anyone who tries to take the “you’re from Essex, ‘Essex Girl’, hur hur” further hits a brick wall as I don’t think being a girl from Essex is a bad thing, so taking the mickey doesn’t really cause me any anguish. And I’m not a prostitute, so calling me an Essex Girl is again, hardly an offence (for it is therefore not accurate).
I’m tired and waffling – it’s almost 1am and I’m on call (4th last on call!) so I’ve got mental diarrhoea. Splurge…

Technically I think I moved out this evening. My decision was reinforced by turning up at home at 7.40pm to have noisier than usual music coming from downstairs. So, having already planned for this earlier in the day, I packed up les animaux and went home. I have to sleep there for 4 more nights over the next 5 weeks for on call, and do a lot of packing during lunch, but otherwise I can commute. So that’s that.

Loving Hell’s Kitchen series 3 – Marco Pierre White is compelling. Despite a vague worry about some of the things he says or how he acts elsewhere, he’s still attracts – that’s charisma for you.

So – Monday night, I went to bed at the sensible time of about 11.30, listened to my iPod for a bit and when I turned it off at about 1am I discovered that in the intervening time my downstairs neighbours had decided to have a party. At 1am. On a weeknight. Right. I paced about angrily (as one would), impotently trying to work out how to cope with this situation until I heard the main front door go; I stuck my head out and asked the passing guest (who was rather fit, unfortunate considering I was in my dressing gown with damp hair) and got them to turn it down. By 2am all was quiet, though at 6am I was awoken by a mass exodus of bottles. Like they woke up at stupid O’clock with an urge to recycle.

Then it was Tuesday. Late evening Tuesday and evidently my back neighbours had decided to go away for the evening, leaving their flat in the control of a 14-16 year old, who naturally had a party. Much screaming and excitedness commenced in their flat and indeed in the shared hallway (the warm fuzzy feeling knowing that it was worse for my downstairs neighbours than me helped a little). I felt extremely trapped and despondent, spoke to Mum who told me to remember I’m moving out, and promptly moved my bed into my front room and closed the door, this helped but I was too distressed to sleep. The party continued to about… 7am.

Now it is Wednesday, and so far, no parties. However, the night is still relatively young (probably about mid-twenties and feeling it’s biological clock ticking). Ah wait – it’s probably my turn…