Not ready for my close up

We're having video conferencing equippment installed at the office. I know that VCing has been around for ages, but we've never had to do it here, and I've avoided it in all my previous jobs so far. I came into the office to the headache-inducing sounds of intermittent heavy drilling, and then, just as I was about to nip out for lunch, was summoned for a 'tutorial'.

As soon as I sat down in the meeting room, I could see myself on the widescreen tv mounted on the wall opposite. The two engineers ran through all the functions and it all seemed quite straightforward, but seeing yourself on screen is so disconcerting. I was trying to focus on what was being said, but all I could think about was how weird my nostrils looked. I've never before had a problem with my nose - of all my imperfections that I obsess over on a daily basis, my nose has never really bothered me. Now it does, and most specifically, my nostrils. Which looked weirdly uneven, and noticably large on the screen.

It could just have been the camera angle, right?

But that wasn't all I noticed. I now have a complex about the fact that I seem to naturally tilt my head to the right. It seems to be my default head position. I look oddly lop-sided and as though I am permanently considering a serious issue. Not the case, obviously. To counteract this, I kept adjusting my head throughout the tutorial, but got confused by the left-right reverse camera angle, and kept tilting even further to the right, then jerking my head back to the left. Like a nutcase. I think the engineers thought I had a twitch.

Also, when trying not to laugh at my colleagues' techno-phobic questions, i.e. after the engineers showed us 3 different ways to press the mute button, 'so how do we turn the sound off?', I quite obviously press my lips together, which totally gives the game away. Later caught myself rolling my eyes at further idiotic questions; not subtle.

I also blink. A lot.

I'm really looking forward to our first conference...

They're kooky

Very cool news - after having a spectacularly shitty day - everything that could drag about work was dragging, I felt generally crappy and didn't get enough sleep last night, and spent most of the day dealing with he company website - no walk in the park, let me tell ya. Anyway, after that, was just packing up for the day and had a sense that I should check my mobile - and there it was - a text message from Rachael, saying she had a spare ticket to see The Kooks on Thurs, and would I like to go? Hell yes, in two words.

So - seeing The Kooks on Thursday eve - how fabulous is that single Naive? Mmmm, am in love with that track, though I have started cheating on it lately with Valerie, by The Zutons, which is also just make-your-heart-sing-and-jump-around sublime.

...and I miss your ginger hair and the way you like to dress
Oh, why won't you come on home, Valerie?

You can't beat lyrics like that.

However, back to The Kooks and Thursday eve, which, only after I had gratefully accepted the spare ticket, presents me with something of a dilemma. A double-booking situation. I have to go to the Romantic Novelists' Association Summer party on Thursday eve with work. Now, whilst it will no doubt be a rather wild and debauched affair, as per usual, it doesn't usually go on all night, so escape after a decent interval is quite feasible. So, wherein lies the rub? I hear you ask. Dress codes. Doesn't it always come down to the dress codes? For the RNA, I will, of course, be donning a two-hoop skirt, acres of organza and tulle, a splash of taffetta, an elaborate tiara festooned with the highest quality cubic zircona and feathers, and a tasteful, yet subtle corsage. Just to blend in, you understand. Now, how am I to escape at 7.45, clad thus, and get across town to the Astoria for The Kooks gig, at 8pm and manage a costume change along the way? I can't very well enter a mosh pit in such an ensemble, as I'm sure you'll agree. Something decidely more 'rock' will be in order for this particular social engagement. I'll have to bring a change of clothes, which will in turn create a further dilemma, of the 'big bag' variety. You can't dance, or look cool, for that matter, when toting a huge bag. It just isn't done.

Since the Astoria is a music venue, it will be scuzzy, as all rock venues are - as an aside - why so grimy, rock venues the world over? Why the same stick-to-your-shoes flooring, the frankly disturbing and usually flooded toilets areas, why? I see no reason why they couldn't glam up a bit, but I'm getting off track. Since it will be scuzzy, I won't be able to stow the bag anywhere for fear of beer soaking and god knows what else.

Tricky.

I'm going to call the Astoria tomorrow and enquire as to their cloak room facilities, and report back.

How it's done

Winning 19 goals to 4. That's how it's done. I'll just say it again in case anyone missed it: 19 goals to 4. First win of the netball season, and it feels pretty good. Plus the weather is good enough to play outside now, so perhaps Summer really is here and everything is going to get better generally.

I'm 'working' from home today, on my unofficial lunch break, enjoying the sunshine: it's all good. With amazing foresight, which is most unlike me, I had arranged to work from home this Friday since I knew we had book group booked for Thursday night. Since I still shudder at the memory of the morning after the inaugural book group meeting, I didn't want to be caught hungover on the tube again, feeling like death at work and having to sneak sausage and egg sandwiches into the office so I don't keel over. As it is, we were all much more restrained last night, and spent more time discussing the book than drinking. (Don't get me wrong - wine drinking did constitute a major part of the evening, but we stayed focused this time, this is book group, not wine group). It was Abi's choice : Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole. It's a very strange book in that all the characters are mental/oddball/sociopathic to some degree, but it is very funny, and without giving anything away, has one of the most satisfying endings I've ever read. Despite choosing the book, Abi couldn't make it, which is a shame, because everybody got quite animated, and although we were occasionally sidetracked (found myself arguing for the necessity of the love story in Gladiator, the movie, and for the importance of love interests in general in action movies - oddly, the men disagreed...), it was a great book group night.

Next selection is Arthur and George by Julian Barnes (which I think Mikey chose just because he owns it, but I'm looking forward to it anyway).

Right, suppose I should get on an do some work, since my lunch 'hour' is about to overrun somewhat spectacularly. But then again, no one's watching me...perhaps I'll mix myself a refreshing Sea Breeze first, as a motivational aid.

I love working from home.

Here comes Summer, or not

I don't think it could get any rainier, or more grey, or more miserable than it is this morning in London. But I could be wrong. It probably could.

Ugh. Monday has not started well. I woke up late following a bizarre dream in which I kept keying in a series of codes in order to stop an annoying beeping sound. Of course, it then transpired that I had turned off my alarm in a half-awake half-sleep state. My brain was trying to keep me in bed. This happens to me a lot. Sometimes I dream that I have got up, got dressed and gone to work, only to wake up in a panic at 8.59am, with no hope of getting to work on time.

So, quite apart from the alarm debacle, it is raining, and with the rain came the discovery that my shoes leak, which was lovely. Nothing nicer than tramping into work with squelchy toes.

On the up side, my boss is still away, so trundling in at 10.28 - not a problem.