the accidental girl

So this time last year saw me winning an award for an essay/presentation I gave on my work placement in Africa.

That's me presenting, innit.

Anyway, I've been invited to be a judge on this years awards ceremony! So I'll be in London next week and handing out the cheques this time. It'll make me feel warm inside in this age of financial crisis, knowing that poor students are rewarded for their efforts.

Back in the day when I hadn't yet discovered the joys of heartbreak, my standards of attractiveness were quite different. I was so awkwardly shy that the bottom line was: if they were patient enough to try to befriend me (made difficult by the fact that I was near-mute) then they qualified.
They also had to be cooler than me and older. Not hard as I was unashamedly and resolutely non-fashionable.
Surprisingly, my first boyfriend was into fashion, a photographer, that sort of thing. His saving grace was that he was considered marginally try-hard and his short boyishness cut him off from people his own age in his circle. He began my tailoring of criteria:
kind, slightly goofy, bilingual, worldly, music
bad: not challenging, too passive

Then I went careering the other way, with a 100% British, footie mad Geordie. But I found him funny and good looking. Setting up my next set:
Nice arms, smiley eyes, light hearted
Bad: Hated reading/good music/culture, slightly controlling, very flirty with other women to the point of cheating.

Then my ex-fiancee:
Outdoorsy, likes cooking, loves me, enthusiasm/passion for something, prone to grand gestures, unafraid to talk
Bad: toooooo intense, bit obsessive/possessive, too hairy/manly

Then Scotsman, back to light heartedness:
Me loving them, looking good in a kilt (i.e. good legs), musical/musician, nice arms (again)
Bad: very disengaged, ambitionless

M:
Deep, into almost as many things as I am, travelling bug, highly intelligent (provides a welcome challenge), highly musical, sensitive, physical. Good dancer. Appreciated La Traviata *melt*...
Bad: bit too prone to crying, depressive

So what can we infer from this. This is what I'm after:
-Nice arms- forearms especially, must be subtley sculpted. Musicians and mountain climbers often get the type I like.
-Musical- ppreciating good music, playing an instrument helps too
-Tall - at least my height if not a good 10cm more
-Nice eyes - smiley ones. You know, the ones which look like you're honestly smiling and you can't help them crinkling at the corners.
-Good teeth
-A good voice - No lisp, not too squeaky. An accent is a-ok especially if it implies that they speak a second (or third etc) language.
-Intelligence/intellectual curiosity - I'm kind of liking the run of Ph.Ds I've had in my time. It implies a passion for something and ambition, also they tend to go hand in hand with a love of culture (in my experience)hence the intellectual curiosity.
-Kindness - kind of goes without saying but I wouldn't say the Geordie was kind. The others were.. they don't need to be sensitive but a certian levle of empathy wouldn't go amiss.
-Light heartedness - I loved M the most when he felt comfortable enough to be silly and funny. I loved all of them the most when they made me laugh. Being goofy is fine too, as long as it's just a character thing and doesn't translate to not being able to dance.
-Thinking I'm special and vice versa. Kind of obvious but say, with the Geordie and the Scotsman, neither of them appreciated me because my qualities weren't those they would cherish. Similarly my ex fiancee loved me for superficial reasons and resented the undercurrent that M, V and subsequent dates/potentials have otherwise loved.
-Being able to appreciate nature/outdoors. Having been brought up half and half city girl/country girl I appreciate nature. I like the peace, the robustness and reality of the outdoors. I hate climbing mountains but I love walking/running for miles- even camping is fun.
-An egalitarian. The South African hounding me for a third date at the moment is a good pointer- he still thinks women are inferior but concedes they deserve equality. V believed certain women 'ask for it' when they wear a short skirt and get drunk. D the ex-F wouldnt touch a woman who'd been with more men than he'd had women. The list goes on.. None of these opinions are attractive and I won't stand for them.

I'm leaving the rest flexible.. I will allow leniency for the benefit of a spark/other inexplicable physical connection.
Now to track 'em down...

Shamelessly stolen off Sienna:

10 YEARS AGO I ...
- had my first kiss
- fell out with nearly everyone I knew
- had a boyfriend who was 9 years older
- made a best friend out of a girl who I previously considered a bully. I know better now.

5 YEARS AGO I ...
- made the change from law to structural engineering
- was with Blair
- was still acutely shy
- passed my driving test

3 YEARS AGO I ...
- was depressed and thus 10kg heavier
- was still reeling from Blair breaking my heart
- had many lovers in a bid to feel accepted
- made friends with my father

1 YEAR AGO I ...
- was in love with M
- won an award and gave a presentation at the ICE in London
- became happy with myself
- learnt the difference between sex with someone you love and just poking.

SO FAR THIS YEAR I ...
- have got 1/2 way through a masters
- realised I'm now incapable of falling in love
- have been persued by three eligible men evidently looking for a wife, oblivious to the fact I'm hollow and dead on the inside.
- realised how finite life is and how quick it all goes

YESTERDAY I ...
- met up with hot glasgow surveyor and realised he had absolutely nothing to say. I'll still to my geeks I think, they've at least got passion for something.
- kissed him anyway but then regretted it when I saw law boy had spotted us (we dated between M and V)
- ate too much wholemeal pasta and felt very uncomfortable having to sit and be demure for 4 hours.
- missed the fact that V didn't mind me farting occasionally.

TODAY I ...
- got up late
- made a carrot cake for my flatmates birthday
- will go to the opera at 4pm
- have been invited to a roast dinner this evening

TOMORROW I WILL ...
- see my thesis supervisor and show him my work (ho ho)
- meet up for lunch with my gbf
- discuss twinning with Zurich at a committee meeting
- apply for jobs

NEXT YEAR I WILL ...
- have graduated (at last)
- probably be abroad to work
- start looking for a husband/life partner
- start applying for post grad studnetships..

I love the light up here at this time of year (when it's not overcast!!)

Anyway, I'll go and crawl back to the sofa and continue being hung over..

In the spirit of MJohnson's latest post:

I started a life of crime at an early age. On a school trip, aged 8, I saw a badge I desperately coveted in a box of souvenirs from the Isle of Wight. My beady little eyes grew round at the tiger depicted. Making sure no one was watching, I grabbed at the badges with my sticky paw and was worryingly successful at pocketing the prize. Imagine my disappointment when I later emptied my pocket of its spoils only to discover that the badge had a hippo on it instead and the fastener didn't close properly.

I once won a prize for my inventiveness in dance aged 10. The 'octopus move' was born from enthusiasm if not skill. In retrospect I think I was the victim of a practical joke- but I was proud of my prize anyway.

I had my tonsils removed in infancy but they've since grown back. They're not your run of the mill pillowy blobs but look more like gills. It's hot.

Some habits die hard. I still write my most secret, ardent wishes on scraps of paper and hide them around my room. A schoolfriend once assured me it helps wishes come true. I still find them even though it's been over a dozen years since they were relevant.

I once raised £4.61 for wateraid by offering to recycle my street's plastic packaging. Considering it took me 3 and a half hours to reach this target, it amounts to child slave labour. Charity's good and all- I'm just putting that out there.. I'm famous in Africa. Following my huge donation, I was filmed for the aid of the french speaking population to explain how I raised the masses of cash.

I was Main Sioux 2 at the pinnacle of my ballet career aged 12. Being inordinately forgetful at that age, I didn't get my costume checked as I was warned to before going on stage. The dance tights ended up being too short with the result that my body looks about 3/4 of my total height and my legs start from the knee in all video recordings of the show.

I can only listen to things when they're on an even number setting in the volume control.
I may have OCD..

Ok, so seven other people have to do this. I suggest:
Kizzy Rampage
Littlelebowski
some1else
smitty
dominicgee
seasideman

Please, for future note, never use the (veiled) compliment-

"You scrub up well!!!"

It's possibly one of the most sharp ended compliments you can pay someone. It implies they look shit most of the time but when you apply the wonder of make-up or little effort, the transformation is astounding!

Last weekend, as you might remember, I was in Glasgow. I was staying in a hostel, having lugged about my luggage and props for the workshops the next day on the train across and then to various buildings I was viewing for my thesis. So, i was pretty damn tired when I got to the pub to meet the other guys. Then, a whole day of presenting- which is tiring, wearing a t-shirt and some (torn as usual) jeans. Come the evening, I spend 5 minutes to get ready- change, brush hair, bit of concealer to hide the weariness and pop! Ready to rock. First thing W says to me (technically my superior in the hierarchy of the association I'm part of) "Wow girl, you scrub up well!!" which I don't take as a compliment. Especially when compared to J (a glasgow member) who said (instead of that hideous phrase) "You look lovely!! It's nice to walk around with you- everyone looks at me like I'm a lucky chap!" Which is the better approach?
Honestly?

My dad is also guilty of using scrubbing up well in reference to me. I know I can look hideous when I don't bother but why point it out by infering that the diffence between the highs and the lows is so great?! My ex flatmate's friend went as far as to say she didnt' recognise me from daytime to party time. Bearing in mind that when she'd first seen me, I'd not showered, was in the middle of a stressful project and looks were the last thing on my mind compared to the second time, when I was wearing a dress, with make up and was relaxed from a few drinks. I'm not surprised I had improved physically- but I still maintain you shouldn't point it out. It's not helping my paranoia one bit.

It is all down to make up and the right clothes though.. sadly. Maybe if I'd had beeter genes this wouldn't be an issue! Moral of the day- compliment a woman if she is strikingly different but don't do it by pointing out her improvement from a previous version of herself.

So! Here I am, a month and a bit into my thesis and I have done next to nothing since the website. Which, by the way, got me an A (3.9% of my final grade in the bag!!)

I went on a site visit the other day. This is the secret interior view of Holyrood Abbey i.e. the vault:

We had special passes which made all the tourists jealous. Especially when our guide said "No no, no entry for you" to some nosey Italians as my friend and I stauntered in with our hi-vis jackets.

Then we were allowed to climb up to the gallery (not open to tourists either) to inspect the structure from the top. Actually it was interesting on two notes:
1- the whole south nave clearstorey bows in. It's acting like a plane/shell. If you imagine a big piece of papercard, imgine trying to hold it flat on the vertical (like a billboard) it's hard to keep it flat isn't it? That sort of curved shape is the shape that the wall has taken up.
2- there's nowhere to possibly layer an enclosure for the walls...

Anyway, that's the view of the interior of the church from the gallery.

This is the inside of the north west tower. Not really going to touch this bit, it's protected already. Knowing estates they'll probably try to change it into a trendy cafe/gift shop even though it clearly only has about 10 square metres of floor area.

So, we have to come back again in a while to take theodolite readings to measure what's happening in the deformed walls. It's a problem because structures tend to be rectalinear and this building evidently is not...

Will keep you posted.

Interestingly- oyster shells were used by stone masons to 'wedge' slightly uneven stones. If the stone refused to sit properly, an oyster shell would be rammed in and hidden under mortar. Oysters were so abundant on the scottish coast (in the 12th century) that they were considered poor man's fare hence why they were accessible by labourers wanting to stop their stones from rocking!

So last weekend saw me holding presentations and basically teaching others on management and communication. Good times! Apparently my bits were good

We played twister to break the ice, after the conference:

The three graces called, they want their sister back.

Honestly, it's not really the way to behave. Oh well.. On another note- I finally got my hair cut!!!

What makes a bad manager.. hmm. I think mine's pretty crap. His idea of a motivational speech:
"Well Monkey, you've been with us two years now. We really value you as a member of the team. It's hard to find people who can bring everyone together and makes everyone feel included but that's what you do- you're the gel if you like- the gel of the core structure. You seem to be able to talk to the geekier ones and we appreciate that because geeks are usually not very sociable so well done you. We're a little concerned that you're not as confident with the work as you used to be though, but we're willing to work with you on that in favour of your team skills."

What bullshit is that?! A victim of positive quota/keeping the little lady happy. Just because I'm not a programmer who does a bit of hacking in my spare time means that I'm too stupid to work a program! And! I object to the word 'geeky' as an adjective- it's so derogatory towards the guys and it reflects off me as me being the dim one. I'm prefectly comfortable with the program, just not with running performance codes, knowing how to identify the stalk walk in an error trace and other jargon nonsense. I was so unimpressed I had a massive rant which lasted 30 minutes about how poor the team was now, how the absence of a properly trained manager was evident because the team was more reliant on the computing students than it used to be. How I used to do the french/greek translations for the software as opposed to the coding so evidently I was less confident. Dumbass. Despite telling him repeatedly that I'd like some work similar to that which I was hired to do, he still hasn't got it. Handing in my notice this week. It's not only patronising, it's inappropriate.

Sorry, but this latest one from jack
has the most amazing photo ever:

I love piggies... thanks jack!!

Dangerous territory.. we can all have a good laugh when I check this again in the sobriety of morning (ok, noon) and see all the typos. Anyway!

The last few weeks have been hell. So much work that it's not even funny.
and had two massive deadlines. All done! Woop! More deadlines. But! in the interim: 3 drunken nights nearly in a row. Wed, Fri, Sat.. Good going for an elderly lady like me.
Friday night was interesting. A house party with friends I hadn't seen since June 2008. Full of young professionals. My secret bugbear... I hate money. A couple of young guys were trying it on and actually using their new found paycheck as bait. how well they know me!! Needless to say, it didn't work. They obviously hadn't got the memo about life being about more than money and about love being the final decider, not the size of the wallet.
I tried explaining this to my friends but they firmly disagree.. perhaps it's not that common. For myself, my future etc- I picture it as simple. My ideal would be a farm, with days defined by nature, need and my own resourcefulness. I don't want a slave to time who's governed by finance. I hate stock broker types for that reason- they love money so much they're willing to make it for others. Why?! why would you do that?!? Anyway. Hopefully I'll be an artist/engineer/chef/sculptor living on a farm with a man who believes in love and not in money.
That or I'll wake up in a disney movie.
The latter's more probable.

Tonight saw me in two clubs with my high-shod miniature thesis partner. 5 inch heels!! How the hell do you walk in them? I've mixed feelings about being tall but I'm glad I don't need 5 inch monstrosities to make me my height. Anyway. I ran into Irish boy (from early october, just before bosnia) he made some shite excuse about wanting to text but not wanting it to seem like a 'mistake' text so just opting not to. Which is bullshit. But also ok, because he comes from the 'it's ok to use mostly teeth' school of thought when it comes to kissing. But, right on queue, as he was making his exit- a nice man cam eup to me and told me I had a sexy smile, what was my name etc.. so Irish boy perked up again, muscled in and reminded me that he thought I had a beautiful face (why be so specific?? Nice face, shame about the other 80%) and gorgeous hair. I had the wisdom this time to just say goodnight and walk home.

In any case, the final reason I dumped V would be a hard act to follow. I still can't recall a kiss that's been as exciting as that one was. It was probably all the fault of bosnian vodka though. That, or adorable puppies.
Night all...

It's 1:30am and most of the respectable places in Edinburgh are shut to three young'uns in jeans and muddy boots. The boots were muddied from over-zealous firework chasing. We were everywhere, arthurs seat, carlton hill, sloshing in the mud as the fireworks popped all over Edinburgh. Waving our feeble sparklers in the face of the bigger boys's toys which whizzed and crackled in the heavens.

After being chased by one too many rockets, we rolled down the hill (I'd made mulled cider for the night) to the secret vodka bar, no longer a secret, officially! Scott kept buying me vodka under the guise of him being newly employed and me being a hobo. I didn't complain, they were amazing! Honey ones, pepper ones, strawberry, 70% ones all sorts of fun.. We palled up with the barman (Lucasz) and the lone drunk holding up the bar (Seb- not myself this time) and bought them drinks. It was fun. Who knew that even Poles sleep and more to the point, stop drinking at 1am?! On a Wednesday?! What is this madness?!
So we rolled out and when the cash machine refused to spit any money at me but graciously gave to my new friend, Mo, the drinks were on him and the only place open at that time, to muddied and slightly cross eyes youngsters, was the ever welcoming Drop Kick Murphys.

After we careered wildly across the dance floor (I like dancing), Scott whirling me in pseudo ceilidh fashion and Mo doing a rock and roll thing (which always amuses me) I realised my phone had gone missing. Not just missing like it did last time, where it happened to be in a pocket I never usually use but proper missing missing. I'd lost my phone.. most of my dignity (Mo was trying to sell me to the barman for more drink) and all respect for the clientele of DKM.
the plus side of the evening was that I got a lovely compliment. apparently I'm the "kindest girl ever" and "such a good host". Which is probably mulled cider and carrot cake induced. Cupboard love is the best kind.

Hopefully there's another kindest-person-ever out there who'll track me down somehow and give me back my phone with all its precious photos and texts on it.

This week has seen Monkey endowed with her loan at long last. I've also managed to spend a great chunk of it already-
I'm going to Paris for christmas to see my grandmother, goddaughter and my Hong Kong cousins' brand new baby girl. It'll be nice to see everyone again, especially as I'm going for a week so can really make a holiday out of it.
Then!! Edinburgh for Hogmanay for the street party and my australian cousin will be here with her friends and my best friend from london will be here too!
Then!!! Berlin with my glasgow pal for a few days. It is a 'working' holiday of course but I'm sure I can squeeze in some fun too.

All I have to do before then is finish my website (nearly done!), 2 exams (argh) and a quarter scale model of my proposal....

Also, in two weeks, I have Belgians comign from the association I'm part of to attend a training weekend that I'm organising and presenting part of (along with glasgow pal and beckham lookalike.)

Nothing much then, eh? I thrive on stress