Blank Faces

Today, I have spoken on the phone.

I am currently in a job role in which I have only a handful of people that I deal with on a regular basis. It is mostly contact by email, although I will speak to them on the phone if appropriate. I am the singular point of contact for these people, they know me by name and I them, the same. 

So, I know their names and I've heard most of their voices. But I've never met them. I don't know what they look like. It's slightly weird. I kind of imagine most people to be older, or more experienced, or more senior than me. I don't really know why that is. There's no reason why the person on the other end of the email isn't just as young as me, or have equivalent experience to me. There's a necessity to be professional at times, but sometimes I find it strange to speak so professionally with someone who is essentially, just like me. Hey, we could even be friends? 

It's weird, to think that the person I am speaking to is not some Big Corporate Person, but could just be a graduate girl in her twenties, someone I could have known at university, someone I could bump into on a Saturday night.  It's weird, to think, that I could encounter these people and not even know that they are the person I speak to on a weekly basis. It's not unreasonable that I could be in the same bars or shops if ever I were in the area. I wouldn't even know it. I could pass them in the street and not even know it.

Isn't that kind of odd? So for work, as for the internet. It's the bizarro world we live in, getting to know people before you meet them. Very strange. 

Flitterbox: James ~ Who Are You
Flitterbook: Jacob M. Appel ~ The Man Who Wouldn't Stand Up

Bonne Année

Today, I have accumulated over five years of Flitterbee.

I am forever making resolutions. Whether it’s new year, lent, spring equinox, summer solstice, academic new year, the first of any month, start of the week or simply a sunny afternoon, I will find reason enough for tomorrow to be a fresh start. I rarely tend to follow these resolutions through, but it's not long before a chance to amend my ways comes around again.

Generally, I think I prefer retrospective resolutions - I look back on the year, at whatever date marker I deem appropriate, and admire my achievements, even if I had not singled them out at the offset. In this way, I haven't failed. I can just remember all the things I have done, rather than what I haven't managed. There are a few things I would like to happen this year, but they are not so much resolving to change my ways as specific goals. Of course, there are always aspects that I would like to do in a general "be a better version of me" sense, but these are gradual and need greater motivation than the mere chink & cheer of glasses raised upon the welcome of the new calendar year. 

I want to read more; I have a kindle now, so it is more convenient. I want to listen to different music; I need to update my digital music device. I want to write more frequently; it's been a while. I want to capture special moments; I want to make interesting memories. I want to do all of these and more, always and not just because it is new year. These are the continual aims are less measurable - "more" is harder to judge and I can't commit myself to put a discrete value on it. So, I will do what I can and see how it goes.

Happy New Year!

Flitterbox: Girls Aloud ~ No Good Advice

Flitterbook: Swimming Home ~ Deborah Levy

Sept Ans

Today, I have accumulated seven years of blog.

So, I've got the itch to blog. To mark this day in the only way I can - online.

It's been a while. I got into the game a lot earlier than most people I know. The internet used to be just a place to find out things, not "Find Friends" as social networking sites suggest that I do, every time I log in. I never used to be all that open about forming friendships online, in fact, I still don't tend to talk about it because unless you give an acceptable context, many people would still find it strange. It is strange.

In this modern world of a working girl, I have no friends that I see particularly regularly: on a daily, or even weekly basis. Most of my close friends live in a different locality to me; trains are a pain and travel is awkward. You don't take a two hour round trip, just to sit for an evening in front of a TV with someone. So I don't see most of my friends all that often, no doubt the meetings will dwindle further as people do the growing up thing - get married, get mortages, get munchkins. Our interaction is largely limited to a virtual presence and how is that all that different from people with whom I initially began interaction that way? 

Vingt-Quatre

Today, I have accumulated over two dozen years of life.

My twenty-fourth year was a good one. I got a graduate role, finally, after a year of limbo. I met people from the internet, finally, after many years of on-line acquaintance. I made new friends; I did new things. I am so glad  that I do not have exams. I am so glad that I am not unemployed. I am ostensibly content, to a certain extent.

My twenty-fourth birthday was a good one. I met up with the girls for brunch; we painted nails in the sunshine and it was fun. Then we went for coffee & cake, and chatted about boys and chocolate. It was the most I've laughed in a long while; we giggled ridiculously over stupid things, acting like the fourteen year-old school kids that we once were.

It's weird being an adult. My job isn't ideal; my career path is unclear. I do not know where I will be when I turn twenty-five, but I'm fairly satisfied with the way this year has turned out.

Flitterbox: Florrie Arnold ~ Sunday Girl

Flying Kites

The right kind of day for kite-flying is hard to come by. But sometimes, you get lucky. A bit of a breeze, but not too blustery, enough to pick up the kite and allow it to swiftly swoop in the most deliciously satisfying way, like your stomach does on a roller-coaster ride. Even with the appropriate wind speed and direction, there is some concentration involved in the process. The correct amount of tension in the strings that connect you to the kite, managing the way it glides through the sky. The many forces that need to balance in order for the kite to stay soaring, slight friction, not too much, with a bit of resistance. All these aspects come together to give the perfect flight and when it works, it feels fantastic, like you're making progress, like you've learnt something. Being aware of the stretch in the strings, knowing exactly the pressure to exert in order to control how it turns. It takes practise, sure, but once you've sussed the basics, you can work it any way you like.

Until, all of a sudden, there's a change in the wind or you move your arm a little too quickly, the string slacks somewhat. The kite stumbles. Sometimes, it picks up again with the next gust and the panic subsides. Sometimes, it falls, abruptly, without warning. A nose dive, straight to the floor. The gravity that was doing so well in keeping you grounded has won out and the kite sits there, lifeless. After a few more attempts to get it up again, you decide to give up and go home. It's a lot of effort for a small reward and it's just not as fun any more.

I don't tend to fly kites all that often; the right kind of day is hard to come by.

Flitterbox: KT Tunstall ~ (Still A) Weirdo

Wrapping Words

I want to wrap my words

around your mind

and let them linger there.

I want to stitch a speech

that slips into your heart

when you least expect it.

I want to flick lace-edged phrases

across your eager eyes

so you can feast upon

the literary delights from my

treasure chest of clichés.

But I can't.

Flitterbox: Feist ~ Secret Heart

Working Girl

Five years ago, I started university.

This year has been an interesting one. It's been so far removed from the preceding four that I've almost forgotten what it's like to be a student! Do I miss university? I'm not quite sure how to answer that question; it already feels forever ago and perhaps I do miss it in wistful moments of reminiscence. But it's not university itself, really, more the individual people and specific experiences that I remember and there's been many aspects I've been grateful to get rid of, or at least not felt that affected by their absence.