" /> Seraphim's Journal of Muses: September 2006 Archives

« August 2006 | Main | October 2006 »

September 28, 2006

I never did a competition before....

I have a lack of inspiration.

I am really itching to start working on the new template I promised for this blog. But I just have no inspiration. Not an ounce. I can't get even the tiniest inkling of what I would like to do with the place.
I know I want something pretty; but not in a girly way. Something beautiful, graphical. But not in an 'in your face' way. Perhaps I could/should change the name of the blog to something a little more.... interesting.

And so.

It's not an official competition, but anyone who can suggest a name for the blog, which I like, I will use it - and award them with a nifty mystery prize. It aint amazing, but it is nifty. And it is a real prize, something you can look at and go 'oooh'.
There are a couple of tiny rules, so here we go:

1. All entries must be EMAILED to me at ' cookie-faerie@hotmail.com ' . Yes I know this is my junk mail account not my regular one, but I promise to read it.
2. All entries must be clean. And I don't mean well-polished.
3. You can enter as many times as you like with as many ideas as you like.... but please try and minimise the number of emails. Group them together.

Thats it! Use your imagination and be as wacky as you like! The title doesn't HAVE to have the word 'Seraphim' in it, though there is no reason why it can't. Good luck, readers. *hugs her tiny but precious readership and cackles insanely*

September 25, 2006

A grumble about the watchful eyes of a concerned husband!

For some reason this morning, my significant other was fretting about my eating habits. Concerned that I don't eat often enough and that when I do eat it's only tiny portions. Personally I can't see where he is coming from on this, as, yes - I do often skip breakfast.... but its soon replaced by chocolate biscuits at work and a greasy take-away in the evening or a huge hearty meal cooked by myself.
I would like to lose a couple of lb perhaps, but I'm not bothered about it. If I had the inclination to get off my ass and go to the gym or go swimming, they'd drop off. But I'm too lazy so ha. I don't think there is an issue with my weight; I've never been huge - I'm around 5 feet 2 inches tall and a British size 8. I wear size five or six shoes and I have no idea what size my waist is, or really what I weigh. We don't even own any scales in my house.
Compared to Hubby I do look small. But thats just because he's 6 feet 3 inches or so, and (although slim) built like a bull.
But, he did make me think this morning. What right do we have to judge the weight of others? So what, I'm small. I'm not sick or anything, and past that why should anyone care? As long as I'm healthy and happy - other things are secondary at best.

September 21, 2006

The One with The Post before The Post

I've been feeling under the weather for a couple of days with a cold, so I haven't updated... as I didn't want to just be depressing! But today I have much to look forward to. I have my office to myself today, and for a few more days until my new co-worker starts. I won't enjoy sharing the office, but she seems very nice and at least she doesn't drink anything from starbucks, so the office wont stink of that burned crap. She also makes good tea.... my boss doesn't seem to understand that there is a difference between strong tea, and tea without much milk. I like my tea really, really strong... but with quite a lot of milk or lemon. If its not right, i'd rather have earl grey or darjeeling. And herbal teas are never bad. But English breakfast MUST be made correctly! *british stiff-upper lip and all that, what-ho*
Also, hubby has been back for a week now, and I have never seen him this happy. He hasn't stopped smiling all week, it's wonderful to see. He's usually a very sombre person - not unaffectionate, he's a big softie for me, but people often see him as grumpy and unapproachable. He isn't, really. Luckily, having met him the way I did, I got to know his personality before anything else.
I get paid tomorrow! That is always good, especially when I am still searching for furniture in my new flat. Mostly it's ok now, but I don't have a table to stand my tea pot on *pouts*.
Later will come a hopefully more interesting post, an actual post, about something. I just don't know what, yet.

September 14, 2006

A small ramble on Racial Equality and Immigration.

I have an issue in that whenever any English or Welsh person asks me my partners name, they eye me after the reply as if I had replied in complete gibberish. I am English, though I prefer to classify myself as Welsh (having spent more time there growing up than I did in England). My partner is Polish. I don't consider this to be a strange thing; we met over the internet when we both played MUD's together, (The Lands of Evermore and at one point ToD and Shadow Siege too.) and I have never really considered him being Polish as an issue - other than the obvious heavy accent and the slightly bemused way he views some English traditions..... and lets face it, who isn't bemused by those.
But some people do consider it an issue, and it angers me greatly. When they find out he is Polish as opposed to a middle-class, white, English businessman with a small grange or good family name - as I am 'supposed' to have... what with me being white, English, educated and 'well to do', they immediately categorise him as one of two things: Fruit Picker or Gold Digger. The 'Fruit Picker' one angers me the most. In England, we have the same problem with the Poles that American's have with, say, Mexicans. When idiot Tony Blair decided that EU freedom of movement laws were good for England, all hell broke loose. 600,000 Poles under 25 within the first 2 years of Poland joining the EU, and those are just the legal, fully registered people. The Polish authorities would probably give figures hundreds of thousands higher than that.
Now, personally, I don't have -that- much of an issue with this. As a generalisation, the Polish are hard working people. They come here, work like slaves for a pathetic, in-human, illegal wage, pay tax on it both here and in Poland, are treated by some people like degenerates just because they do the jobs that certain classes of English people consider to be 'beneath them'. They fail to take into account that if they sent all these people back home,the English Ecconomy would go into freefall. English people will not do these jobs; otherwise the Poles wouldn't have them in the first place. Sending these people back wouldn't be a cure for unemployment, because no English person would work for the wage these jobs offer. In my opinion, if the Poles carry on working and boosting the economy in the positive way they have so far, why -should- they go?
Anyway. I am getting, in the heat of the moment, off track.
The 'Fruit Picker' label. Many people assume that this means my partner will 'change his mind' soon and go back to Poland, having made himself a nice stack of money to take home to a 'real' partner - not an English whore. It is not the suggested attitude of the Poles that gets to me here, it is the fanatical English assumption that every country, every person, must be like them. In the past two years, I have met more Poles that I would call 'gentlemen' than I have met English ones in a lifetime.
The 'Gold Digger' label is just as infuriating. People always ask if he works, if I provide for him. Or if he's just another Pole come over here to work his way in to an English family, so he wont have to worry about finances again. That never looks at English people, just English peoples wallets. I am at a loss for words on this one. It is possibly one of the rudest and most incorrect assumptions people could make.
My partner is nothing like either of these labels. He is smart, hard-working, funny and cares for me very well. I don't care if he's Polish, or English, or any other nationality you can think of. If he was a martian, and still made me this happy, I wouldn't care. It's being loved that matters, not the 'label' of the person who gives it. I pray that now, having much bigger internal issues to think about, the English will begin to appreciate the Poles for the hard work they do.

September 11, 2006

A Tribute to Danielle Delie

When I originally signed up for the 2,996 tribute, wondered for a while what I would write. I also had some concerns about getting it done at the correct time due to my working hours and non-american timezone. But I decided to go for it anyway - and this is why.
It doesn't matter where you are, when human tragedy strikes. It doesn't matter what you say, or when you say it - as long as you remember. It may not be the correct time for you, reader, in your country. But the events that happened on that day 5 years ago affect the people who were involved, and many more, every day. Not just one day a year. People have to live without loved ones they lost, with injuries they recieved, or with memories they must relive vividly for the rest of their lives. They do this every day.... so one day of my time, given in thought and rememberance, is nothing.

894.jpg

I found very little information about the person I am remembering here today. But I did find this: Her name was Danielle Delie. She was a warm, delightful individual who was working within the world trade center building as a management consultant - she was obviously an intelligent woman. She was one of the many international victims, of french origin, who died that day. At 47, she was still young, and her smile suggests to me a youthful, adventurous personality.

She probably woke up and went to work, expecting a day like any other. She could never have known what was to befall her, her collegues and indeed all of the world that day. I imagine she smiled and laughed like any other day. Maybe drank a coffee or tea, spoke to a friend or loved one, unaware that she would never see them again. I remember watching the footage of the trade center bombings on my TV in England. I wonder now, if Danielle Delie was one of those I saw - fighting their fate with courage, or accepting it with quiet dignity that I know I would not have had. I like to think she was one of those people; a beautiful woman with much to live for, who will be remembered by many - not least by me.

The eerily fateful thing about this exercise of rememberance, for me, was this: When I signed up for the 2,996 tribute a name was chosen for me at random - that of the beautiful frenchwoman Danielle Delie. In real life, I answer to the same name, also of french origin. To me it was a somber reminder that these people's lives and memories should be carried on and celebrated, for as long as these people are remembered, the unwilling sacrifice they made that day to open the worlds eyes to the global threat of terrorism, will not have been fruitless.

September 08, 2006

Postman Pat - The R18 Version?

Postman Pat, Postman Pat, Postman Pat and his black and white..... Instrument of torture? Kidnapping sack?

That's not quite the lovable theme tune to the lovable british childrens program I was used to hearing when I was a kid. But yet, for the past 2 days I have been harrased by a creepy postman nicknamed Pat.
I won't go into details here as their has been an official complaint made by my boss against this man - as he came to my work place as part of his creepy stalker spree, but it was more than a little un-nerving.
24 hours off and a large meat pizza I think.
Yeuch.

September 05, 2006

A little healthy fret never harmed anyone.....

I'm exhausted of waiting. I have been waiting for Hubby for too long. He doesn't arrive in the country until the 13th of September, but I haven't seen him for months now and I just miss him to the point of insanity. So I am trying to amuse myself tonight by inviting around a couple of friends for chinese food and movies. Ho hum. I barely have enough furniture to entertain with, but there we go.
My parents have been staying with me a month, also. As much as I love them, in a way, I can't wait to get rid of them. They both drive me crazy after only a few hours with them, never mind weeks.
Ahhh well. It will all be over soon - and I'm sure I'll then find something else to fret over!