High-End Lifestyle

Printed on the first page of a beautifully bound, hard-back A5 booklet type thing.

It looked expensive.

Lets hope those High-End Lifestyle people don't spell too good.

Work Update: The Intern

Summer Sky, Near the Tesco in Soho Square.

I’m trying to cultivate more patience with the new intern. I rarely have patience with interns.

I don’t know why, considering I was an intern only a little while ago and a fairly duff one at that I’m sure.

During the first few months of my first job, my boss yelled at me a lot for getting things wrong. He even made me cry once (I cread privately of course. You can’t be bawling in an office. So not done.)

My job entailed setting up an email newsletter that got sent to 25,000 people. I knew NOTHING about html, newsletters, coding or designing for web before I started working there. At one point he was essentially re-doing everything I had spent an age on. He was a little controlling but still, that’s never a good sign.

I had months of email related paranoia – I’d be checking my email constantly worrying that an irate email would suddenly pop up scolding me for some hideous gaff I’d made. Mornings and late night were especially nerve-racking.

In the beginning sometimes my code would be dodgy, links would be wrong, I’d schedule something to go live at the wrong time and then I’d get furious emails at all sorts of hours along the lines of

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE???? FIX IT! FIX IT NOW!!!”

So this new intern is a recently graduated B.A. art student who’s very inexperienced and therefore needs a lot of hand holding. This means a lot of corrections, multiple notes back and forth, double checking everything and general frustration all around.

I can now sympathize with my first boss yelling at me. I must have been a really, really annoying intern. I’m glad they didn’t sack me, because I eventually shaped up (thank god!).

I do feel guilty that I’m so intolerant of someone who I was exactly like a little while ago.

Additionally I have a tendency to rush instructions and/or explanations, which means generally they come out entirely garbled.

So even though it’s my fault for being unclear, I then I feel quite irritated by the utterly blank expression on the interns face.

Can’t the intern just pretend to understand what I’m saying???

Some facial expression of some kind??

Is that so unreasonable?

Work Update

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I’ve accidentally on purpose stopped paying for the hosting package for my website. (Streamline.net)

They’ve sent me 2 emails. One suspending my account, the other telling me my website will shortly be booted off.

Pffft like whateveas. You don’t scare me you fucking crooks.

I had a big fight with them 2 years ago when I found out they had doubled my yearly cost while at the same time inviting new customers to join with some seriously dirt cheap 2 year rate. I was furious.

So I called them up and yelled about how they didn’t give a shit about their existing customers and asked them if they were just going to screw me over.

They said yes.

It was too much trouble to move, and I couldn’t cancel payment.

But NOW I will. Assholes.

My website is flash anyway. I like it but flash is a pain to manually update. It hasn’t been updated in about a year now.

I prefer my wordpress blog, although it’s far from ideal. Sigh. What to do? I need a good free, content manageable website template. So far Behance has probably been the best.

Went to a client meeting and even though it was pretty warm I couldn’t take off my coat because my sweater had a hole smack bang in the middle over my right breast. That kind of thing never leaves a good impression.

I’ve been getting various emails at work spelling my name wrong. Not from people emailing the first time but from people who I’ve emailed back and forth repeatedly

The app developer called Jorma, who is pissing me off no end, with his shoddy coding and inattention to detail keeps sending me emails titled: ‘Jamine’ or ‘Janie’ or ‘Janice’ or ‘Jamie’

Instead of telling any of these people to spell my name right, I rather passive-aggressively started responding to their emails with their names spelt wrong, trying as far as possible to make it look accidental but simultaneously using the letters they got wrong in my name to misspell their name.

You get me?

So in response to L. Harry’s email calling me ‘Jamie’, I began his email with:

“Dear L. Hami…”

While an email to the app developer Jorma (who called me ‘Janice’) was:

“Dear Jorna,

Thank you for your shoddy email, your worthless code and your frankly rotten work ethic.

Please fucking spell my name right you cunt.

Kind Regards,
Janine”

I only wish I could be so forthright. The only part of the correspondence above that is true is the opening and closer.

I don’t know if it worked or if they noticed but I enjoyed making a subtle point (well in my own brain anyway.)

This developer has been inconsistent, communicated poorly, skiving constantly and refused to work from the London office. He has also missed every single deadline set.

The boss had to tell him to pull it together man, stop crying (he actually cried) and just finish this project.

Uphill work.

MSN flirting continues

I can no longer remember what it was like to have warm feet

Just got in from work and my fingers are totally numb from cold and I’m still blogging. Arnt I devoted?

The ex has been going horse riding is this bloody arctic weather. I’m so not an outdoor person.

The ex does look very good in the horsey gear. The breeches with the jacket with the elbow patches and the crop and the helmet. So cute. Also a tad like the hero on a BC book cover. The heroes are always in breeches. I’m not sure why.

I bought the ex a little white chef’s outfit with name embroidered on the chest as well. Double cute.

Someone has invited me ice-skating on Saturday and I foolishly said yes, then I thought about the cold, the ice, the cold, falling, the cold and now I think no, no. that sounds cold. Now, I’m facing some peer pressure. I shouldn’t say yes when I mean maybe. (Although I did say  ”lets play it by ear” a lot.)

The other day I emailed something to A3′s (the app developer in Beijing, A3, who I occasionally flirt with on msn) personal Hotmail account because the email client was bouncing (seriously who uses Hotmail anymore? It’s so 90′s. As bad as ICQ. If you don’t know what I’m talking it about then you’ll never know, you’ll never know.)

A3 types “You sent it to my personal account?!!!”

There were a lot of exclamation points and question marks.

“Oh I’m sorry, but all my other emails to your work email are bouncing”

Slightly confused. Was this a major faux pas I stumbled into? The exclamations threw me.

“Well, we will just have to be friends now”, responds A3

This was a curve ball I hadn’t expected. (I shouldn’t use Americanization’s like ‘curve ball’; What the hell do I know about baseball. But I can’t help it. I watch too much USA TV. It has all seeped into my fragile, soft brain.)

“Done deal” I say, relieved.

Free Loaders

Tube graffiti. I think it's apt given the content of my post.

Just went to the co-op twice in the freezing cold, once to get the frozen peas to make pea-rice (rice with peas in it) in the slow-cooker.

The second time was for the rice.

This was in spite of my determination to be efficient today.

Everyone at work sneezing and coughing this week.

At one time me, P and J all coughed in a rather neat chorus. I wish I could have recorded that little winter cacophony.

There are and always will be clients out there who think that your time is worth nothing.

I mean, all you have to do is just move this there and there and it’s so easy why do I have to pay so much? Cant you like, just do it for nothing?

Fuck off and get your Mom to design it then, you cheap chut.

I resent it. I am so sick of people thinking they can get design shit for free.

It’s the story of my life.

Sigh.

Time to make my pea-rice now that I finally have amassed both vital ingredients.

Emotional Blackmail

Office Door at around 5 in the evening. MD told A1 that the tree near the door was dying, so A1 had some chinese guy come to cut it but he totally butchered it instead. And it wasn't remotely dead. But it's recovering now and just looks like it's having a bad hair day.

I offered to send A2 a postcard the other day (I had one spare of the 9/10 I was sending, and he said likes getting postcards)

A2, who is still mildy offended that I won’t add him on Facebook said teasingly,

..Maybe he didn’t want to give me his personal home address…it’s too private…maybe he needs to keep them separate….

Then I ever so considerately offered to send it to the office instead, so of course, he relented. (If he’s letting fake deaf people in his house, I knew he wasn’t going to withhold his postal address.)

So on his I wrote,

“I thought it might be funny if all I wrote on this postcard was work related stuff.

Like project notes, spec document notes and things to do.

But I won’t.

Instead I’ll tell you a really lame joke -

I saw a Greek man rubbing garlic and chickpeas into himself – he was a hummusexual”

(Joke stolen from CCJL the 2.)

I refused to add A1 to Facebook either (I offered to add him on limited). He was also a bit surprised. (I feel bad, but not bad enough that I’d add them. Look, I don’t want to get fired, OK?)

P. was giggling, thrilled at this little workplace stand-off, and Frenchie, (who I think agreed with me) probably has everyone on limited anyway (quite rightly).

It’s a bloody minefield this ‘friending’ business.

If you don’t say anything, people ask “Hey, why can’t I see your wall?”, and if you do make it clear you won’t be putting them on the regular FB feed, but they’ll be on the limited, highly censored one, then there’s all this awkward emotional blackmail.

Whaddyado?? Block me in retaliation, I don’t care. It’s a fricking virtual wall! And don’t give me Bambi eyes!

A2 said to A1 “Can you believe it? She won’t add me on Facebook!”

A1 says “Of course she won’t add you. We spend all day together…”

I like that he’s trying to make excuses for me, because then at least I won’t have to.

I say “Look, I haven’t even added my family or my brother…”

The sub-text is: Please don’t take this personally. I just can’t add you. I need some boundaries in my life. And don’t feel bad…See? I do this to my family also. (As it is, Leo has to be my Blog Ofcom to stop me from writing dangerous posts.)

A1 then said something to A2 I didn’t quite catch, but I heard A2 respond with

“Oh… yeah….we’ve done that already”

So I gather he meant the time we went to Frenchie’s place and smoked one together.

A2 is a full-on chiller. (yay)

If he wasn’t half my boss (A1 is the other half) I’d definitely add him.

xoxo

There’s a new kid on the block. An app whiz-kid in Beijing called A. Let’s call him A3 to differentiate between A1 & A2 (and also A4, not at work)

I’m talking to A3 about our celebrity app project on MSN and I say,

“Ok no problem I’ll do that, Thank you x”

A3 then asks

“Does x = A3?”

I say

” no its a friendly kiss”

“0 = hugs” (I am trying to clarify, and also distance myself from the word ‘kiss’)

I felt a little awkward actually typing that out.

Like ‘x’ actually is a kiss,  other than it just being something to tag at the end of an email/typed conversation. A little more casual than ‘Kind Regards’ and a little less matey than ‘cheers’.

‘Yours sincerely’ went out of fashion ages ago. They spent years in school teaching us to sign off with ‘Yours sincerely’. What a waste. All we needed was ‘x’. Or even ‘xo’.

I firmly believe the ‘x’ should never be capitalised.

‘xoxo’.

Not ‘XOXO’.

‘XOXO’ makes me think of a big, slobbery, psychotic, stalker kiss.

Kiss kiss bear hug strangle.

A3 says

“haha I see. They say you are pretty. It’s nice to be talking to a pretty.”

I ‘haha’ back and then say

“thank you that’s nice to hear”. (I very strongly feel it’s now time to sign off MSN)

But I like A3 already (who said flattery never got you anywhere?)

A2 jokingly asked if I was flirting with Beijing.

Can’t hurt I suppose. After all who doesn’t like to be a pretty?

Good use of ‘yours sincerely’.

“Dear Sir,

Thank you for your interest in my proposition.
However regretfully I am not a high-class escort.
You must have misunderstood my letter.

Yours sincerely.“

Monday Morning Snooze

Bench near work

Monday, 11 Oct 2010

Spent 4 hours yesterday in a meeting.

4 hours.

No meeting really needs to be 4 hours long.

I was so, so bored. And I’m afraid I really only got about 20 minutes worth of design information out of that meeting.

The client needed things to be explained to him quite slowly (he’s a bit old, but very nice).

First by A#1, then his son would explain or debate, then A#2, then it would be debated again. Then explained again. Then confirmed. It reminded me of the super-long crits we used to have on my M.A. I kept fiddling with my pen, and looking out of the window.

I wish I could have at least got on with work and listened at the same time. My input wasn’t needed so often and I’m a woman. I can multi-task, for heaven’s sake.

I went to eat lunch in the park. There was no sun in the park so I sat on some posh persons door-step like a beggar.

Which reminds me – Some deaf guy rang A#2′s door at midnight or something.

A#2 opens the door and goes

“What do you want? Why are you ringing?”

This guys signs and stuff and says simultaneously,

“Oh I live here, but I’ve lost my key. Can you let me in mate?”

A#2 asks

“I don’t think you live here. I’ve never seen you before”

The deaf guy goes

“No, no I really live here. Just help me out mate”

A#2 is not having that,

“You don’t live here, and I heard you buzzing everyone”

Turns out this guy wasn’t even deaf.

He was faking the sign language and even putting on the intonation you have when you can’t hear.

Why A#2 opened the door in the middle of the night in the first place, is what I don’t understand. He still had crutches (he fell off a rock and injured his leg). The fake deaf guy could have easily lamped him and then legged it.

Risqué Joke

Simpoh Air Leaf aka CB Leaf

This leaf is also known locally as the CB Leaf. ‘CB’ is the acronym for the local (and rather vulgar) term for ‘vagina’. I guess you can see where it gets its name from! For some strange reason, the new leaves appear from the axil of the old ones. In days before disposable ware, the leaves were also used to wrap rojak (a local salad). It is also used to wrap tempeh (Malay fermented soyabean cakes).

A client made a rather risqué joke yesterday – something about being a broker by day and a cunning linguist by night

(I have no idea what the context for this was)

The intern didn’t understand.

I don’t get it, what are you guys talking about??

…he whined

In fact he didn’t even know what it meant at all. He kept asking and we kept directing him to google. (because it was more entertaining not saying anything)

Eventually the intern found the urban dictionary definition for it. Then started talking about the word ‘gash’ and its uses in language.

A at this point decided that enough was enough and said so.

But the intern bulldozed on and on about ‘gash’.

A said again,

“INTERN! INTERN! Please stop this discussion now. I think that’s enough”

The intern still didn’t seem to register that A was serious in shutting him up and kept rabbiting on (this was all starting to feel a little uncomfortable now).

Finally A was shouting

“INTERN! INTERN!! I MEAN IT! STOP THIS DISCUSSION. NOW! When I say stop I want you to listen, ok intern?”

The intern finally silent and abashed said

“…yes….sorry.”

He doesn’t understand, he thinks we’re all having a go at him all the time for no reason – but he just doesn’t listen to a word. He never listens. It’s impossible to rationally talk to  him. Even when explained kindly, or politely he won’t let it go.

Sometimes I think the intern is very tall 12-year-old, not an 18-year-old heading off to college. I mean college! He is so going to get thumped in college. Heck sometimes, I want to thump him now.

The commonwealth games fiasco tickles me pink. The office is loving it. I say the office, but really just me, M & A. It reminds me very much of an Indian dev company we were working with. They seemed to share the same work ethic as the Commonwealth Games organisers. Leo wrote a very good piece here on it.

I didn’t even remember it was on in October until all the buildings started falling down. It’s like a comic where a series of ridiculous disasters happen one after another. I’m sure more people will tune in just in the hope that something else will fall down. What a great farce. I’m rubbing my hands in glee, hoping that the whole damn thing will be called off.

Now if only the London Olympics could be cancelled. These things just seem money-black-hole. I don’t understand the appeal. I’ve never understood the appeal. One of the A’s said it gives hope and blah and shit – but I don’t know. Knowing billions is spent on a total nonsense (and largely lining the pockets of the organizers in the process) doesn’t fill me with great hope.

My mother is obsessed with the opening ceremony for the Olympics though. Last time she called me and said

Did you watch the ceremony?? Wasn’t it amazing?

I said no, like, pfft I don’t watch that.

She got very upset

You’ll never see it again!…… IN YOUR LIFE!!

My mother acts as if recording equipment has never been invented.

She also yells on long distance calls – because the person is further away, so you have to talk louder.

If the person is in Bombay – normal voice, Delhi – louder voice, abroad – then shouting.

That’s all for today – it’s been very busy. I’ve been designing an iPad app all day – creating endless options and going a bit mental.

Back hurts, tummy hurts. Everything is hurting. Time to watch River Cottage and imagine I’m in the country.