Skating on Thin Ice

First up, apologies for the dearth of posts in recent weeks - I've become so sick of staring at a computer screen, endlessly searching for jobs, that I've been reluctant to prolong my agony by blogging on top of it all. I tell you, there's been some dark days in 2007 so far... My "job search" began with a something along the lines of a prolonged "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"; a sort of primal scream which persisted through the first three of four days of staring at the monitor, wondering where on earth I was going to find work. Things gradually got better though: I eventually perfected my CV after hours of mindless font-twiddling, and I even managed to send off a couple of applications and sign up for a recruitment agency. Of course, the recruitment agency didn't have any work till February, but hey, one step at a time.

I had my first "interview" yesterday, which was something of a baptism of fire. As it turned out they'd just prepared a series of tests for me to do, ending with the announcement that someone would call me back on Friday for a real interview if they were impressed with the results. It was a bit disappointing - tests are such a faceless way to choose a new recruit, and I was kind of hoping to make an impression on a real person, not just a computer. Still, it's a first step, and even if they don't call me back at least it's given me a bit of a boost just to get to that stage.

Things are looking up on the house-finding stakes as well - my old school friend Anjalie has a spare room going in her house in Tufnell Park from March, which would be perfect as long as the landlord agrees to let me and Flick share a room. We'll find out for sure on Friday. If it all falls through though we'll probably look for a house in the same area anyway, since we were pretty impressed with it when we went there - two stops from Camden, 15 minutes walk from Hampstead Heath, loads of bars and shops nearby... welcome to Zone 2 living I say!

Of course, we were hoping to de-camp to Brighton, but our plans went awry when we discovered that there are absolutely NO JOBS WHATSOEVER going down by the coast. I suppose we could both become waiters in a macrobiotic vegetarian cafe or something, but when it comes to media jobs there's zilch. Still, I'm sure we'll get to live down there someday... [faraway look filters into eyes] .......... someday...........

Stevens glides past effortlessly. Hold on, is she giving me the finger?

Oh, and somewhere in between all the general unemployment Flick and I managed to squeeze in the time to go ice skating at Somerset House - something I can tell you I wasn't particularly looking forward to, since my ice skating skills are somewhere on the level of Mr. Bean's. As a teenager I used to dread being invited to ice skating rinks, since invariably I would spend the next 2 hours clawing my way round the edge of the rink, occasionally falling on my arse in a spectacular fashion and watching all my superior-skilled friends get off with all the good-looking girls.

Of course, Flick was looking forward to seeing me crash spectacularly and generally make a fool of myself, but, miracle of miracles, somehow I managed to stay on my feet for the entire hour! More than that, after a little initial awkwardness I actually managed to get round without touching the sides. Unbelievably, by the time we were called off the ice I was becoming... dare I say it... quite good. Less talented skaters were looking at me with admiring looks as I glided past with my gorgeous lady, wishing that one day they too would be able to pull good-looking girls through sharply-honed ice skating skills. Admittedly, my skating pose was slightly, shall we say, rigid, but it was certainly an improvement on my Mr. Bean pirouettes of yesteryear.

But most importantly, Flick didn't get the chance to laugh at me making a fool of myself. IN YOUR FACE, STEVENS!

(After the disappointment of my quite good turnout a skating, she's now declared it her mission to find something I'm not very good at, then laugh at me doing it badly. I'd suggest she needn't look further than my so far woeful efforts at finding a job - bearing in mind that I've been home for exactly a month now. Ho hum...)

Oh, and did I mention that my sister graduated from King's College London with an MSc in Clinical Immunology? Well, she did, and here she is doing a Batman impression to prove it.