Stuff and nonsense

I have no idea what I've been doing for the last couple of days. Nothing special has happened, I haven't been anywhere and I haven't done anything. How does that happen?

Still, tomorrow I'm off to Canterbury with my mum to look at parish records. We are tracing my family history (and when I say we, I really mean my mum with me just giving occasion aid on the computer). I do enjoy this sort of research but it can be a full time occupation and I do have other things on my mind at the moment.

Like - what do I pack? just how many pairs of shoes can I stuff into a suitcase? should I pack any books? make-up, yes or no? (I think yes), is my iPod up-to-date? where's my passport?

See, important stuff

You can get it if you really want it...

Next Tuesday I'm flying to Milan.

Hopefully I'm starting work the following Monday.

In between I have to find somewhere to live.

Wish me luck.

Going to the dentist's and I'm gonna get...

I went back to the dentist today as today is the day I had my retainers fitted.

I was expecting plastic plates - one to line my hard palate and the other to fit under my tongue - with wires to hook onto my teeth in some way. I was expecting this mainly because during my first attempt to straighten my teeth (some thirty-odd years ago) that's what I had.

My, how things have changed. The start of the process (last week) was the same as thirty-odd years ago. Soft, squashy, suffocating plastic was smeared over a form and the form was pushed over my teeth where it was held in place by the dentist until the soft plastic had set, thus creating a mould (and leaving an weird but not totally unpleasant taste in my mouth along with several pieces of leftover plastic). However, from there onwards everything was different.

From the mould was made the retainers. Hard but not scratchy. Clear rather than opaque. Encasing rather than hooking. Yes my new retainers are incredible. They actually fit completely over my teeth. You know when you go to a furniture store and all the sofas are wrapped in plastic - that's my teeth.

The retainers are very discreet - nobody notices them unless I point them out (although I haven't kissed anyone while wearing them - then they would be noticed I think), I can wear them for everything except swimming and hot drinks, and they click out for cleaning when I do my teeth. Eating with them is a little unusual as I feel I can't chew my food properly but I had salad tonight and it wasn't a problem.

On top of all that, they may well help with my teeth grinding habit.

I'm on my way...

I think my luck has changed.

After weeks of anxiety (and a mild case of the blues) I seem to have found a job. I have to say that it's not due to my hard work and persistence but more to do with asking for help.

You may or may not know that I'm not very good at asking for help - mostly I'm afraid that people will say no (and that has happened on more than one occasion). However, I have come to realise that my friends don't say no and that even when I've been a selfish, lazy cow ("No" I hear you say, "not you Shiralee" but yes I'm afraid so and much too often) my friends have always helped me out. My problem is that I put off asking for help for far too long and end up in situations where what I'm asking for can be too much for one person.

Right now I'm just gleeful at finally finding paid employment. I think my parents will be too. My mum has been worried that I'm sinking into depression (I will not be depressed - life is too short) and when my mum worries, my dad worries - and we have enough dramas in the family without me adding to them.

More when it's all confirmed.

Should I stay or should I go now...

I'm am feeling a little down at the moment. I haven't been shortlisted for the local job I wanted - I matched all the requirements on paper but it's likely they already knew who they wanted to employ - and I'm no further forward with work in Italy.

On top of all this, my relations are all getting married and having babies. Now, whilst I'm over the moon happy for them, it does throw my own lack of a life into high relief. I know I am truly blessed with parents who not only don't have a problem with me staying here indefinitely but have made it clear that there is no pressure on me to do anything, however, I am in limbo.

Do I up sticks and head for Italy, where I don't have anywhere to live (I would be relying on the kindness of friends initially) but where I should be able to get work, or do I hang on here where I have a very comfortable home, no social life and no immediate work, in the hope that the seeds sown in Italy over the last couple of months bear fruit. On top of this I'm still looking for jobs in the UK but I wonder if I'm just wasting my time.

I hate making decisions, it's something I'm very bad at.

Smiley Happy People Pt II

They're off! and, boy, does it feel weird. They, of course, being my brackets. I did thing my teeth and tongue would feel too small for my mouth after a couple of years of overlying metal but that isn't the case.

The orthodontist I saw said that the work wasn't finished in that two of my molars are still slightly rotated (I don't know whether it's because the wire had slipped out or the Argentine dentist lied to me about them being ready, but it certainly explains her reluctance to write a referral letter), however at my request and with a signed waiver he took them off.

It was not a pleasant process. I assumed, somewhat naively it seems, that as the brackets were stuck to my teeth with cement, some sort of solvent would be used to unstick them. No. Not as such. The reality is the orthodontist used a pair of pincers (proper dental pincers) and a drill to crack each bracket off each tooth. It isn't painful per se, but it is bloody uncomfortable and can feel like your tooth is being wrenched out of it's socket.

Finally, the orthodontist got rid of the composite with a dental sander (I don't know it's real name), trimmed the edges of my broken front teeth (which is what precipitated the whole teeth-straightening shenanigans) and filled my mouth with putty to take impressions for the retainers.

Again, it shows how naive I am, I thought the whole thing would take about half an hour. It actually took an hour and a half (including a panoramic x-ray) but I now have a beautiful smile. Next week I get the temporary retainers fitted. After that I can arrange a scale and polish and make a decision about the gap in my lower jaw.

Smiley, happy people Pt I

Today is the big day. Today is the day when (fingers crossed) I have the brackets removed from my teeth.

More later...

Home or away?

Teeth update:

After much too-ing and fro-ing I've finally got an appointment with a local dentist to have the brackets removed and removable retainers fitted, and this for about two-thirds of the cost quoted by the foreign dental company. I may still be going with them for the crowns but it'll take a lot of persuading for me to have an implant fitted.

To be honest, I've been less than impressed by the foreign dental company. As I said before, the proposal I was given made only a passing mention of bracket removal with only a verbal quote and no time scale, and when I tried to make an appointment for this in London (I was told their orthodontist only worked in London) they decided I needed to go to Budapest to commence the implant treatment (this is where the big money is). Obviously the plan was to get me there and then 'bully' me into having stuff done that I wasn't ready for (nor can afford at the moment). When they did finally get back to me about an appointment in London, the earliest they could offer was the middle of November! I'm just glad I did some phoning around.

Never smile at a crocodile...

I seem to be going from one extreme to the other. Woke up this morning with a stuffed head - my cold has come back after yesterday's rainy walk (and will my parents accept responsibility for it? will they heck as like!). So I went back to sleep for a couple of hours. Now this is good in theory, I like to sleep when I'm ill, but bad in practice as it means I'm going to find it difficult to sleep tonight.

Still chasing dentists. And, by god, don't they fancy themselves! It is often reported here that it's difficult to find a good dentist and when you do, dental treatment is expensive. Well, they aren't joking. I've been quoted £55 and £95 just to have an orthodontist look at my teeth, £120 per hour for any work done plus £75 to £100 per retainer (I need two) and then only with a referral letter from my Argentine dentist! And everyone wonders why the British have such bad teeth.

I'll may be going abroad to get them done, I certainly can't afford to get any of the other work done in this country. In fact, dentists have come from Hungary to set up a mobile practice in the UK, charging about a third of the local prices (and even then, dental treatment is out of the reach of many people).

Shakespeare said (Second Part of King Henry VI, Act Iv, Scene II) "The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers." I think they would be swiftly followed by the bankers and dentists.

Bits and pieces...

Today has been a day of mixed fortunes. It started with an early morning wake-up so I could join my parents on one of their walks. The walk was good but, unlike the previous times, the weather was not. I know the British always go on about the weather but that's because we have so much of it. So today I was windswept and rained upon - one bright spot, I had a bacon sandwich.

Then later I applied for two more jobs. Again, I've probably got less chance than a cat in hell of even being shortlisted but I've got to keep on trying. In all honesty, I still hoping the job in Northern Italy will come together and, as these other jobs don't start until December, there's still a good chance it will.

Still haven't managed to get anything done about my teeth. I went for an initial consultation in London but that dentist completely overlooked the removal of my brackets and the provision of retainers, and every attempt I've made to get a price for this (and nothing else can happen until this is dealt with) has been met with silence. It looks like I'm going to have to dig deep into my pocket and get this done in the UK.

And now my eyes are giving me gyp. Sometimes I just can't focus them no matter where I hold the book or how far I am from the television. I don't know whether to see another optician (I had them tested and new glasses in July) or the doctor.

Finishing on a good note, I cooked tea (or supper, whichever you want to call it) for my parents and they thoroughly enjoyed it.

Fly little birdies, fly away...

As I'm sure everyone in the UK (and possibly Europe) knows, we've been having some wonderful weather recently. I could say it's because it was my birthday recently (when the good weather started) but that would be a little presumptuous of me and I'm never presumptuous. But whatever the reason, we here in the Matthews household are trying to make the most of it, mainly by spending as much time as possible out of doors.

With this in mind, and following on from my seafront walk with my mum on Sunday, yesterday I went on a birdwatching walk with my dad. Now you know my eyesight isn't that good (bloody awful, in fact) which makes looking at small objects far away a difficult and sometimes pointless activity. The is exacerbated by the fact that I can't use binoculars (my eyes don't work together) and I'll be damned if I'm carrying around a telescope (again I've never come to terms with those things). However, this inability does mean I've become very good at interpreting shapes and noticing movement.

So, I may not be able to see the colours of all the little birdies but I can distinguish between a cormorant, a seagull, a duck and a crow when they are overhead. I can even tell the difference between a cormorant and a heron when they are in flight.

STOP laughing! That's an achievement for me.

It's raining men...not

I've been looking at profiles. You know, on the dating sites I've joined and, bloody hell, there are some buses out there.

Definite no-no's:
a comb-over (cut it short, shave your head, have some dignity)
a beer belly ('yes' to honesty but 'no' to ill-fitting clothes)
black and white photos (just how old is that picture?)
extreme close-ups (why won't you show me your ears?)
fuzzy full-length shots (your face can't be any worse than mine, can it?)
coy over-the-shoulder or upward looking glances (what are you hiding?)
smiling with your mouth closed (it doesn't look natural, see a dentist if your teeth are that bad)
pulling a funny face (it doesn't say you have a GSOH, it says you're a berk)
phantom limbs from people cropped out of the photo (are you so sad that you can't take your own photo? or so alone you don't have a friend to do it for you?)
your passport photo (no-one looks good in a passport photo and it makes you look cheap)

And here are some of my personal preferences
short hair (few are the men who have long flowing locks past the age of 21; a stringy ponytail just looks rank)
neatly groomed face fungus (I didn't use to like beard and mustaches until I met a certain Mr Jam - keep them trimmed and clean)
short, clean fingernails (talons are for women only, I don't care how sexist that seems)
ditto toenails (short and filed, I hate being scratched by toenails)
extremely high standards of personal hygiene (you'll only be sweaty after I've finished with you)
good teeth (spend that beer money on seeing a dentist)

Notice I don't say anything about height, weight, eye and hair colour, age or personal circumstances (but don't bother me if you're married - been there, have no desire to revisit). Obviously I have preferences in these areas but, as with Mr Jam, these preferences can change for the right person.

So if you happen to be reading this and know of someone who fits the bill, let me know.

(Next week, I'll be parading up and down the high street with a placard!).

Cupid, draw back your bow...

I have a dirty little secret. One which I haven't shared with anyone else (except J) but one which I'm going to talk about here - because, let's be honest, no-one apart from Mr Jam reads this blog any more.

As you know (if you've read my blog), I recently turned 47 years old. That's a real grown up type of age, and I've been thinking that maybe I'd like to do a grown up type of thing - like find a partner and settle down. Now I know that those of you who know me will find that difficult to believe. It's not that I'm the original free-spirit (I'm not the original anything) and it's not that I hate men (although I am a little picky) but I don't have much of a track record when it comes to grown up relationships. One relationship in my late twenties (he did ask me to marry him but he drove me up the wall), a doomed flirtation with my boss (who was using me to cover up his affair with another colleague), a long period of hermit-hood followed by working abroad and falling in love with a married man... Let me put it this way, if it was a CV, I wouldn't employ me. And this combined with my spectacular ability to not fit into any stereotype (too tall, too fat, too ugly, too assertive etc.) has left me in a position where I don't think I'll ever meet anyone.

So, this is my dirty secret... I've joined not one, not two, not three but four on-line dating agencies. And when I say joined, I mean I haven't paid any money (because who knows how long I'll be in the UK - see what I mean?) but I have posted a profile and some pictures.

The response? well, to say it has been underwhelming is to overstate the case. Over the total of four agencies my profile has been viewed 7 times, no-one has tried to make contact in anyway at all and, whilst two men have marked me as a favourite (like a flavour of ice-cream?) one is 19 and the other is dog-mad. I did 'wink' at one man who promptly deleted me - fair enough but more than the standard message would have been appreciated.

And while we're on the subject of dogs, one of the sites asks for your pet hates. One man (not the one mentioned above) replied that his labrador hates loud noises and getting wet. Sad thing is, I don't think it was meant as a joke. Anyway, I'll leave the profiles up there until I know what I'm going to be doing then either suspend them (moving abroad) or pay money (staying in the UK).

But really, people, is it my age, my cynicism, my lack of coyness or the fact that I'm old, fat and ugly?

The beautiful briney sea...

Well, we didn't quite make seven miles (4.1 according to our pedometres) but it was great fun. Despite it being October and therefore officially winter (we don't do autumn any more), the sun was blazing, the breeze was soft and the sea was calm. I took some photos but my battery ran out so I can't upload them at the moment. We stopped for a cup of tea (or three) at a lovely cafe and did some putting of the world to rights.

My parents have their favourite walks in various parts of Thanet so tomorrow I'm out with my dad on one of his top ten walks. At this rate I might start sleeping again at night.

Welcome back Mr Jam, glad to know the pair of you are safe and sound. We'll talk soon.

And I don't have the flu - RESULT!

I'm walking, yes indeed...

I have a cold. I don't know if I've already told you this but I have a cold.

Normally, when I'm ill, I just get on with it but as I'm living with my parents, I've regressed to a pathetic level of self-pity - and this despite the fact that both my parents are suffering much more than I am.

My remedies are frozen grapes (good for the sore throat), hot tea (good for the digestion) and chocolate (just good).

Tomorrow my mum is taking me out for a walk because she thinks I need the fresh air - I'm not happy, fresh air was what got me into this mess in the first place! However, there is no denying my mum when she's made her mind up so tomorrow we go on a seven mile hike along the sea front.

I expect to get the flu.

Stuck in the middle...

I'm in a bit of a dilemma. I have conflicting priorities.

I have to get my teeth finished.
I have to find a job (I'm living off my savings and my parents good graces at the moment).
I want the job I've applied for in this country.
I want to keep the option of moving to Italy open.

It doesn't sound like much, does it? but none of it fits together and it's all out of my hands.

The teeth thing. I had an initial consultation in London with a dentist who completely ignored that fact that I have brackets (permanent braces) on both sets of teeth which need to be removed. She gave me a proposal that included all the other work with half done in Budapest and half in London but nothing about how the removal of the brackets and the fitting of a retainer fits into the schedule. I phoned to get some advice and was basically given the same again. And we're talking about £2,500 here.

I want to put down some roots. The reason I discounted the UK was because the job prospects were non-existent. Now I've applied for a job locally but the interviews aren't for a couple of weeks (always assuming I am shortlisted) and if by some miracle I get the job, it doesn't start until 1st December. In the meantime, I have an interview with someone in Italy, for a more nebulous post. It's a friend of a friend, who could provide accommodation and some work, leaving me free to find private work. But nothing is guaranteed.

This post doesn't go anywhere, no decisions can be made and I just needed to get this off my chest.

Thanks for your patience.

It's my birthday and I'll sing if I want to...

So, today is my birthday. I am forty-seven (yes 47) years old. How did that happen? Where did the time go? I feel like I'm about 30/31 - old enough to know better but young enough not to care.

People, I am nearly fifty years old? FIFTY! There's definitely something wrong here.

I don't feel forty-seven, I certainly don't look forty-seven and I am sure as hell never going to act as if I'm forty-seven.

For those of you who remembered - many thanks.

For those of you who didn't - shame, shame, shame! Today IS the most important day in the calendar.

BTW I am FORTY-SEVEN years old today. Huh?!?

Thank You For The Music

Some reflections.

When I was on the train to London last Friday I was trying to listen to a podcast (on my iPod of course) entitled "The Quiet Carriage" about train carriages where you shouldn't use mobiles, personal music systems etc. And I couldn't hear half of it because of the continual announcements over the train's PA system. Wonder if there was a quiet carriage on that train?

Still don't have a job, and I'm still applying left, right and centre. Don't know what I've done wrong. Onwards and upwards.

Went to see Mamma Mia again tonight. This was the special sing-along version. The cinema was packed (I think there was one free seat) and of the approximately 150 people in there, six were men (I counted). We ended up standing, singing along and waving our arms in the air. Luckily the sound was turned up very high, drowning out all our off-key attempts to join in. I cried twice this time (I am turning into an emotional wreck) and thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Just in case you didn't know, it's my birthday this week. No presents expected but birthday wishes gratefully received.

Ciao people.

Roll Over Beethoven

Well my dears, I'm back from London with a new filofax (purple leather - get me!), a 'program' for sorting my teeth out (ouchy with the numbers) and a bagful of classical CDs.

I stayed over with bf J, her daughter and partner, and he (her partner) has a business selling classical music CDs to discerning customers. In doing so he buys stock from other collectors and various classical music nuts (my description, not his). Unfortunately this sometimes means he ends up with stuff he can't sell to the discerning customer, which made today my lucky day.

I know next to nothing about classical music, I have various pieces on my laptop but, and it's a big but, I can't tell the good stuff from the bad stuff (both in terms of composition and quality of performance) so he gave me a bagful of CDs his customers wouldn't buy, just to get me started. A sort of 'Janet and John' of classical music.

I am well pleased.

When I Was Just A Little Girl...

Whilst reading one of the blogs I follow (The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl), I came across this idea: What is something you'd love to say to your younger selves of 2, 5, 10 and 15 years ago?

2 years ago (2006): Make the most of your time in Argentina and don't give up on the Tango. Ok, the men won't want to dance with you because you're taller and wider than they are but persevere!

5 years ago (2003): So you've just finished in Egypt. Don't dwell on the negatives, remember the positives. Later you'll think back and thank AF for being such a bitch!

10 years ago (1998): you've got about six months left in your current job, learn everything you can about the redundancy policy, clear the decks and make a plan for the coming eighteen months - DON'T waste that time.

15 years ago (1993): What the hell are you doing with your life? You're holding down a full-time job and a full-time voluntary post and getting no thanks for either. Get away from the television at the weekend and get a life!

If I seem unduly harsh on myself, it's because I can now see some of the mistakes I've made in my life. BUT I have no regrets. Regrets are for losers. The wise person learns from her mistakes and doesn't repeat them (which must make me a moron).

Clowns to the left, jokers to the right....

Looks like I spoke too soon. I got an email today from the school that made the conditional offer. They've withdrawn it as they don't have the business contracts they need - see, the credit crunch is affecting everything. So I've taken a deep breath, swallowed my dignity and re-applied to those companies who ignored my first contact. I've tried to be more direct (ie contact the school directly) this time and be more explicit in my cover letter.

Cross your fingers and wish me luck!

Mamma Mia

Sorry for the lack of posts recently. I'm back with my parents and I haven't been doing much.

I have had two main concerns over the last week. The first is finding a job. It has been a bit of a turmoil with companies not following up on my CV and then re-advertising - why? why? why? But the end is in sight. I've had a conditional offer from a school (the condition being that they get the business contracts they need) in an area I want to go to. Failing that, there are a couple of others who've shown interest. It has been stressful but I'm sure the right thing will appear, at the right time.

My second preoccupation is beating my dad at Wii tennis. He has reached a score of over 2000 whereas mine is stuck around 1700 BUT when we play, I tend to beat him. That's because I know his weak spots and I use distraction to keep him from concentrating - hey, who said I have to play fair?

Finally, I went to see Mamma Mia with my mum today (I love going to the cinema in the afternoon) and it made me cry. I have no idea why but I sobbed like a baby. On Sunday the cinema has a sing-along version so we're going again (with a gang of relatives - all female) to bring the house down. If you're in the Westwood area on Sunday night make sure you're wearing earplugs.

BTW, Mr Jam, when are you back from China?