Andy Jaeger

Festive puddings

2008-12-31T14:40:00.005Z

As promised to my sister, here are two options if you don't fancy Christmas pudding. We had both on the big day, and both are still going. Actually, the Christmas pudding icecream is so rich I suspect it will still be in the freezer in March, being consumed one teaspoon at a time.

I'm not an accurate cook (I actually don't own kitchen scales) so everything is fairly approximate.

Mulled wine jelly
Mulled wine jelly started with good mulled wine. We had friends round the Sunday before Christmas and I think I made something approaching twelve litres of the stuff before we finished. My mulled wine started off with

A box of red wine (one of the three litre boxes)
A small bottle of brandy (it all went in - in retrospect that may have been a mistake - wow!)
An orange studded with cloves
Two more oranges and two lemons roughly sliced
Some sugar
Some allspice
and some cinnamon

By the time we got to the end of the mulled wine it was a lot more red wine than brandy and the fruit had been simmering away for a good four or five hours. Anyhow, to make the mulled wine jelly I took just over a pint of the cooled mulled wine, mixed with about the same quantity of orange juice, added some sugar to taste - the wine had got very clovey by this stage and it needed counteracting - and then warmed it all gently in a pan. I added twelve sheets of already soaked gelatine, stirred until it was dissolved and then poured into a big glass dish. It took about four hours to set in the fridge.

Christmas pudding icecream
Even without an icecream maker, this was possibly the easiest and richest pudding I've ever made. It was actually far too rich the way I made it, so if I were making it again, it would contain

A small tub of single cream
A larger tub of ready made custard (about twice as big)
A quarter of a large luxury Christmas pudding
Some nutmeg, cinnamon and sugar
A big glug of Baileys

I started by cooking the Christmas pudding. It was ready made and just popped in the microwave. When I made the icecream first time round, I used about half the pudding but really it was too much. A quarter would have been fine. Once it had cooled down, I crumbled it and set it to one side. The cream was whipped and folded into the custard and then the Christmas pudding, spices and sugar were mixed in. Finally I added big glug of Baileys and stirred.

It all went into the freezer, mixed up with a fork about four hours later than back in the freezer until completely solid. It needed to come out about 20 minutes before serving to be soft enough to serve.

My first outing as an agont aunt

2008-12-01T22:24:00.002Z

Absolutely delighted that a piece of advice written by me has appeared in today's London Paper in the Heart Surgery section. It's sadly not published on their website, but here's what it said.

Q I came out as a lesbian to myself and my friends last year and am just getting used to it. I've been dating a girl for a month and she's dropping hints that we should spend more time together. It's too soon for me to get serious - how do I let her down gently? Anon

My reader's reply was the first published. Strangely like commenting on a blog but actually appearing in print, which is satisfying.

A One of the great things about coming out is the rush of emotions, like puberty all over again but without the spots! There's no hurry to settle down. Be honest with yourself that you're happier enjoying the "teenage" rollercoaster for now, and tell her how you feel. Andy

It's not the best thing I've ever written. Wildly swinging metaphors, gratuitous punctuation and lack of pace. But published with my name at the end.

Waiting for Tesco

2008-10-15T23:34:00.001+01:00

Much as I love home delivery, I have to say that at this point in time, I'm deeply unimpressed. Tesco were due to deliver a pile of lovely groceries between 9pm and 11pm this evening. As they've previously been so good at delivering early in the time slot, we'd even been hoping for pudding. As it is, it's 11.30pm and there's no sign of our shopping. They have all the relevant phone numbers in case there's a problem. Nothing's rung.

Annoyingly, the customer service line closes at 11pm, which means I'm unable to check now whether, or when, the shopping is going to arrive. I can't possibly be the only person this has ever happened to, so you'd think they'd keep the customer service line open even until 11.15pm. It's common sense, it would cost them thruppence ha'penny (as my grandmother would have said) and it would create some customer goodwill. Instead, they have a grumpy, tired and pudding-deprived customer blogging about them. It surely doesn't take a great marketing brain to think through the issues and create that 15 minutes on the end of the day, or perhaps it does.

Waving joyfully goodbye to my moustache!

2008-09-30T21:53:00.004+01:00

It's gone. It's over. I've raised £75 so far, and please give more if you're grateful to see the back of my top lip monstrosity. Paul for one is delighted. I can't quite believe I stuck it for a whole month. But it's over. It's over. IT'S ALL OVER!!!!

BEFORE...

AND AFTER...

World Social Marketing Conference 08 - day one review

2008-09-30T09:38:00.006+01:00

It's the morning of day two of the conference, and having missed hearing Alan Milburn speak, I thought I'd take the time for a quick update on yesterday's key speakers. I have some ten pages of notes and all my tweets as a starting point, but given the amount of information yesterday, this is just a summary.

The first half of the morning's plenary was comprehensive in its scene setting for the UK and international health context and the role that social marketing plays. After an introductory video from UK health minister Dawn Primarolo, Angela McNab (director of public health, performance and delivery at the Department of Health England) spoke about how social marketing helps people make the changes they want to make. She talked on the need for good social marketing to be based in good research, and pointed to the launch of a one stop research shop for social marketers next summer. She was followed by Philip Kotler (marketing god... not sure if there's a more appropriate job title) who gave a presentation provocatively titled "Reducing poverty through social marketing". If I was in any doubt that marketing was going to save the world, Philip Kotler was extremely persuasive. He set out a series of principles in social marketing, namely

framing the problem
segmenting the market
targeting segments where the most good can be accomplished
determining desired behaviours
developing strategies using all four tools in the marketing toolbox
and finally monitoring and evaluating results

As a sideline, the four Ps themselves have been under much discussion, particularly on the sidelines of the conference, with lots of talk on whether they provide a robust and comprehensive framework. Anyhow, as much as Kotler's talk was an exposition of the great work done my many social marketers internationally to help people raise themselves out of poverty - the example of Mechai Viravaidya, Thailand's "condom king", sticks in my mind - it was also a clear call to action to us as marketers. As he said

Social marketers with compassion with ask "What do you need?" and "What will help?"

Broadening the context even further, Sameer Deshpande talked about the history and context of social marketing in Asia, particularly in south Asia, reminding us that marketing is not education, nor is social marketing social networking. Sudha Tewari ended the first half of the morning's plenary with a reminder of the real life impact of social marketing in the Indian context. With 5.5 million unwanted children born every year and 6.7 million unsafe abortions, condom marketing has never been more important, and her organisation is leading the way.

The second half of the plenary (after a very well deserved coffee) saw Nancy Lee take the stage with four real life examples of the four Ps in practice, looking at tobacco cessation, littering, HIV testing and... using flags to cross the road. I can't begin to imagine that British people would even begin to think about carrying a flag across the road, but the benefits in road safety were clear. What was most striking from Nancy's presentation was the enormous cultural difference between the UK and US - and it certainly is a reminder to challenge my assumptions that I understand the context in which I'm working. Driven by real consumer understanding and deep research, Nancy's examples showed how powerful the four Ps could be in shaping meaningful social marketing programmes.

The afternoon's highlight for me was Katherine Lyon Daniel (from the US's national centre for health marketing at CDC). I heard her speak twice, once on the context of health marketing in the US and the other on her centre's work on autism. She was inspiring. In her first talk, she challenged us to take a long view, and talked about a native American saying that

In every deliberation we must consider the impact on the seventh generation.

She talked too about how consumers were overwhelmed with information, how we needed to ensure that health information, like Coca Cola, was "within an arms reach of desire" and she set out four principles for social marketing, drawn from her centre's mission statement. She said that it should be

Accessible - ensuring we address issues of the digital divide and health literacy
Accurate - stressing the need for us to document research and outcomes and build our body of knowledge as a profession
Relevant - needing to understand audiences and undertake appropriate research, and finally
Timely - again, going back to the concept of information being within "arms reach of desire"

That's it for now. About to start day two in earnest!

Counting down the hours til I'm tache-less

2008-09-28T14:43:00.003+01:00

When I started out on my tache oddysey at the beginning of September, I wasn't sure entirely what to expect. Aside from the physical act of transforming my facial hair, I've found myself talking about my tache all the time to anyone who'll listen.

I've met a lot of new people in September, and I've found myself starting conversations with the words "I don't usually look like this..." Partly, I want people to know I don't normally look like a 70s porn star reject and partly, I want to plant the seed of them being able to recognise me when they meet me, not during September, and I don't have a moustache! I'm not sure it's a look I'd want to maintain the long term. I also can't stop playing with it, stroking it in a contemplative fashion that makes me look, well, a bit bonkers.

A surprise upside of growing my top lip has been a new a Remington grooming kit. It's been really handy throughout the month. My top lip hair does not grow universally straight and neat, so being able to tidy up the edges has helped me maintain an air of manicured (faci-cured?) orderliness. I've mostly used the medium width trimmer, but the Remington comes with other interchangeable bits too. There's even one for dealing with nose and ear hair... yum... though it's a tad vicious and pulled out a piece of hair, prompting lots of eye watering! Still, I suppose that's better than my former grooming machine, which seemed to totally give up at the sight of a thicker than normal hair, and frequently ran out of juice midway through a trim. It's got a neat little charger and a places to store all the bits, and has pride of place on my bedside table.

All in all though, I can't wait til Wednesday morning when the tache can come off. My tache has raised £75, and I'm currently ranked at number 297 (ah well, can't win them all) so I feel like I've done my bit for tacheback. I also have a list of people to email on Wednesday morning who've promised to sponsor me to shave the tache off, so I should be able to push my total up a little higher.

The only thing I have to decide is what to do next. Growing a moustache has the same kind of facial impact as shaving off an eyebrow. It's one thing to be cleanly shaven, even to have all over stubble, but it takes a kind of strange persistence to grow hair on just one part of your face. Still, I suppose with my new clippers, my face is my oyster.

Labour Party Conference

2008-09-20T15:42:00.001+01:00

Just arrived in Manchester for Labour Party Conference. Strictly speaking, our hotel is actually in Salford and a bit of a trek to the main event. We'll head out in a bit and explore our way back into town by tram. Mysteriously, when we arrived, there was some kind of demonstration in the city centre and trams weren't running in this direction. We'll have to see whether that changes later.

But, first thing's first. Conference timetable. Tonight is the London reception at 6pm and a chance to catch up with the one or two people I know and the thousands that Paul knows. And then later it's the Only Party in the Village, LGBT Labour's party somewhere in Canal Street. Ironically, it's no longer the only party in the village (as it genuinely was last year) because having officially kicked off today, there's lots of conference happening already.

Spiralling

2008-08-06T21:50:00.002+01:00

Keane's new single - Spiralling - for free download

It really is quite different to anything they've done before, with a fantastically 80s Human League vibe mixed in, hardly any piano, but desperately catchy. I'm putting this straight on my iPod and I think I may be humming it for days!

Big pile of presents

2008-08-02T09:38:00.002+01:00

It's Ben's ninth birthday on Monday, so I'm off to spend the day with him, carrying a big bag of presents. As I can be fairly safe in the knowledge he's not going to read this, I can reveal that he's getting two Nintendo games, a make-your-own-radio kit, Truckers by Terry Pratchett, and a word game called Upwords. As far as I can work out it's piled up version of Scrabble.

Paul said it looked like a good pile of presents for a 9 year old. I think it looks like a good pile, whatever your age! Birthday presents seem to reach a peak size towards the end of childhood, start to tail off as a teenager, and then largely disappear as an adult. I suppose as you buy more stuff for yourself - books, music, clothes, toys - your significant others buy them less. Today's tshirt is a good example. I bought it for myself yesterday, but it would have made a great present. Still, I didn't want to wait until Christmas!

Prom

2008-07-29T19:21:00.003+01:00

Astonishingly, for someone who lives in London and says he likes music, tonight is only my second ever visit to the Royal Albert Hall for a prom, and my first time as a prommer up in the Gallery. The last time I came to a prom was over a decade ago (unsure of the exact date but that part of the story is inconsequential) and I'd won the tickets in a radio competition. They were good seats too, down near the front. But not proper promming. And certainly nothing like being up in the gods.

My first impressions of being up here is that it's a dimly lit, wide, circular picnic area. If I'd known people actually bring picnics, we wouldn't have eaten our sandwiches in the queue. It's really rather nice. We've got quite good spot I think (up against the railings on the left hand side of the stage) but there seem to go early and are highly prized. I overheard someone in the queue say that it was unusually busy this evening, but with 15 minutes to go, it's remarkably spacious still. Next time, and I hate to sound like an Alan Bennett character, we'll bring cushions and a thermos of tea.

Now we're here, I can't remember what we're listening to. Something lovely I hope. Still, it's the experience as much as anything. Nicholas Kenyon apparently once commented that the gallery is a law unto itself, and I can see already what he means. It is all terribly British though. Which, like the music, is rather lovely.

Sticky

2008-07-15T09:42:00.002+01:00

It's grey, overcast and incredibly sticky in London today. The tube this morning was almost unbearable and our office, with its somewhat erratic airconditioning, is even worse. Yuk. I have a meeting in 20 minutes and I just hope by the time it starts I will have stopped perspiring!

The galling thing is that it's not even sunny. This is the kind of summer weather I don't enjoy. I really hope it gets sticky enough to prompt a big thunderstorm. I think we could do with the air being cleared.

Rain

2008-07-09T18:27:00.002+01:00

Catching a bus on Oxford Street when it's raining is next to impossible. Apart from the fact that a spot of drizzle makes it difficult to see your way down the street for the sea of umbrellas, the extra traffic and people mean the drivers stop, irrespective of where the bus stops are. I just spent 15 minutes running up and down 50 metres of pavement trying to get onto a bus that was stopping anywhere sensible and long enough to get on. Seeing one move away practically empty was upsetting.

I got on a bus in the end. I ran to catch it. The bus is crammed, smelly and hot. And my glasses have steamed up.

The pox

2008-07-08T17:47:00.002+01:00

There's an outbreak of chicken pox at work. People are disappearing for a week at home covering themselves in calamine lotion. And everyone is unaccountably itchy and paranoid about every sniff and cough, even if they are perfectly well.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I remain unaffected. My mother had enough foresight to send me off to play with every other sick child on our street when I was small, so I'd got through most of the childhood diseases by the time I was 7. Pox parties seem less common now which I think is a shame. My mother was of the opinion that, given the potentially terrible consequences particularly of mumps in adult men, it was better to get everything over and done with as early as possible. I'm sure it must have been a real chore for her to put up with an ill little boy - I complain now when I feel sick so have no reason to believe I wasn't hard work as a child - but I'm very grateful. It should mean, I hope, that I still have the chicken pox antibodies and won't get ill now. Fingers crossed.

Queenz boycottz beanz

2008-06-24T20:18:00.003+01:00

How could Heinz have made such a critical miscalculation of judgment? Their decision to withdraw an entirely innocent, rather well made and frankly quite humorous advert has filled the media over the course of today. Here it is, by the way...

Now, there could be a number of things going on here.

It is possible that Heinz were genuinely shocked by the complaints about the advert, and, believing that the small number of complainants reflected a much larger silent number of people who'd potentially not buy their products, decided it was safer to withdraw it. That would be spineless, backward and somewhat naive frankly.

Alternatively, this could be slightly more sinister. The video is available on YouTube. The advert is being talked about widely. Heinz is getting huge amounts of publicity out of the argument. The problem is... if that's the case, they've calculated that offending gay consumers and sparking a boycott is a price worth paying to get their product noticed. That, frankly, is more homophobic than the 202 complainants to the ASA.

In unrelated news, research from the US has put Heinz Ketchup at the top of the tree in terms of brand equity, measuring consumers attitudes across six areas: familiarity, quality, purchase consideration, brand expectations, distinctiveness and trust. The potential problem for Heinz is that trust, certainly among gay consumers, has just taken a serious knock. Either they are inept handlers of consumer opinion who refuse to stick to their guns. Or they are expert handlers of consumer opinion who are willing to trade one group's offence off against another's lack of concern. They might have been widely congratulated by the gay community for making a rare advert that normalised, for the general public, a display of affection between two men. Instead, gay consumers are about to turn and walk away.

What a disaster. Henry John Heinz believed that "to do a common thing uncommonly well brings success." I can't help but think that Heinz have managed to do exactly the opposite, doing an uncommon thing uncommonly badly.

Being Sralan 2

2008-06-24T20:04:00.002+01:00

A while ago, I suggested that taking Sir Alan Sugar's decisive approach would make for better political judgments by the electorate. Being Sralan didn't help Ken, but now it seems that Sralan might be in the frame as Labour's candidate for the next London mayoral election.

He'd certainly be an interesting choice, and to be honest, his support of Labour came as a bit of a surprise to me. I suppose I labour under the misapprehension that business people will be politically conservative, though I realise that perception is somewhat behind the times. While he's hedged his bets in response to suggestions that he's being talked about, I for one think he might be good for London. Apart from anything else, I'd love to see the moment he told Boris, "You're a total shambles. You're fired."

The other thing it signals is that Ken can't take his selection as Labour's candidate for granted. Having campaigned for Ken, I was sad to see him lose, but I've been sadder to see his inability to let go and move on. Hanging around your old place of work can't be good for anyone. Surely there's a friendly job centre that can take him in hand and help him look at his job options. How can he go to a job interview if he doesn't know his job options?

Actually, it does get me thinking. What do you do once you've been at the top of the tree? It can't be easy. There's a great line in Season 2 of the West Wing, when Jed Bartlett comments to Leo McGarry that being President of the United States is the last job he'll ever have. It makes me worry for people who climb the career ladder too early, who peak too soon. If it's hard enough for Ken to walk away at an age when most people are retiring, how hard can it be to be faced with walking away 20 years before. Where do you go and what do you do?

I suppose you can always reinvent yourself as the star of TV reality show. Now here's an interesting idea - Sralan gets City Hall and Ken gets the boardroom with Nick and Margaret. Now that's a show I would watch.

Shuffle 2

2008-06-23T20:09:00.001+01:00

Well, that's peculiar. I was sure that track I liked was the Dresden Dolls. Now I've synced with iTunes and checked, it seems I was mistaken. I still don't like Elton John though.

Shuffle

2008-06-23T08:38:00.001+01:00

About a month ago I bought a new iPod shuffle, one of the ones with no display. This morning, I've discovered three things.

1. I really do like the Dresden Dolls.

2. I can't identify half of what I'm listening to.

3. I really don't like Elton John. At least I think it was him...

Day three of an interesting week

2008-06-18T08:48:00.002+01:00

So far, it's been a week of resignations at work. Following a damning report from our regulator, both the Chief Executive and President have said they'll go, though not when. I won't be in the least bit surprised if there are more departures. A bit like buses, you wait for ages and then three come at once.

Still, it's an odd situation. For one thing, I'm not necessarily convinced of the value of heads rolling. You'd think that, faced with extraordinary problems, the person you want at the helm is the person who knows the organisation best. That said, I don't suppose it's that clear cut. If the person at the helm has piloted you, deliberately or not, into the rocks they are hardly equipped to get you off the rocks again and make you sea worthy. Bad captains don't make good ship builders.

I've also never been in an organisation at the moment the top team has resigned. I was talking about this with someone yesterday. Neither of us could remember it happening to us before, and certainly not working at a level where we were affected by it. Even two steps removed from the Chief Executive in the managerial food chain, the announcements have a personal as well as professional impact. I like the Chief Executive as a person, and can't help but feel sorry for what's happened. It also raises the prospect of a new Chief Executive, a new approach and a clean sweep. Just as the next few months seemed well planned, they are back up in the air again. Still, I suppose the future was never as reliable as I thought it was.

All of which leaves me feeling frankly a little uneasy, a little concerned, a little sleepless. This will all get better in time, though we're stuck right now in an in-between time when people have said they'll go but haven't gone, and change needs to happen but hasn't started. I only hope for everyone's sake whatever has to happen happens very quickly.

Endless variations and never stuck

2008-06-12T19:19:00.002+01:00

I've just altered my route to work, and I'm coming to terms with quite how consistently busy the Victoria Line is when I get on at Victoria. This morning was particularly packed. By the time I arrived on the platform, "minor delays" had turned into "severe delays", threatening to make me late for my first meeting of the day. By pure coincidence, one of the people I was meeting with appeared behind me on the platform. We escaped from the station - not as easy as it seems first thing in the morning when the one way system is in operation - and caught a bus instead. We had some of the meeting on the back seat of the bus.

Despite the occasional hassle like this morning, I'm eternally astonished at the variety of routes that are possible between two points in London. I travel from Balham to Victoria on the train, then get the tube to Oxford Circus. I needn't though. I could get the Northern Line and change at Stockwell. I could get a bus from Victoria instead of the tube. I could even, though I'm not sure why I would, get a bus to Elephant & Castle and walk from there. It's a 50 minute walk, but crossing the Thames first thing is lovely and the walk is just the right side of far too long. In short, there are countless possibilities, and endless variations on a theme.

For much as people complain about the public transport in London - delays, overcrowding and other random frustrations - I think the endless variations are what make it so good. It's very difficult to get completely and permanently stuck anywhere. There's always another way. For all the perceived freedom of car drivers travelling under their own steam, their options are severely limited even compared to someone with just a bus pass. Once they've hit a traffic jam, broken down or had an accident, they're stuck. With parking restrictions, they can't even get out and walk.

Nor can they blog about it on their mobiles on the way home.

Spotted

2008-06-08T17:31:00.002+01:00

Clare Short reading the New Statesman on the Northern Line from Kennington to Clapham North and carrying a nice red jacket. Glad to see in our egalitarian age that nobody offered her a seat.

Honestly, it's like party conference on the tube sometimes...

Dwarf-sploitation

2008-06-06T10:41:00.005+01:00

This week's Marketing Week reports that Pot Noodle will give consumer the change to duel with dwarves.

The activity, which also includes sampling, will launch at the Southend Airshow this month and will run throughout the summer... The Gladiator-style duels between consumers and dwarves on giant Pot Noodle containers will last 30 seconds. Consumers will be e-mailed film footage of their fight immediately after taking to the ring.

Recounting this story to friends yesterday prompted a random outpouring of dwarf-related entertainment stories. The oddest was from the recent Internet World, where an exhibitor had a dwarf painted blue in a cage on his stand. The blue dwarf apparently rattled the bars of his cage in the morning, and in the afternoon was running around handing out leaflets. It was something to do with document management apparently. If only document management were so exciting. Still, what with casino advertising featuring dwarves too, it seems dwarves are the new black. I can't help but feel a little uneasy that it's a very postmodern freak show, perhaps even dwarf-sploitation.

Number 10

2008-05-29T23:09:00.004+01:00

I may not have ever been inside 10 Downing Street, but I'm delighted that back on 7 May, a question of mine included in a Number 10 webchat with Douglas Alexander. He was discussing the role of companies in international development. I said...

Andy Jaeger: Isn't explicitly involving the private sector in development a dangerous thing? Surely their motive will be profit rather than humanitarian?

and he said...

Douglas replies: The private sector has a key role to play in generating the wealth and employment required both to increase prosperity and to fund basic services in poor countries. No country has managed to lift itself out of proverty in recent decades without trading with its neighbours, and countries in South Asia have in recent years managed to lift hundreds of millions out of poverty. So I believe we should encourage both the public and private sectors together with civil societies and NGOs to all make a contribution to the challenge of development.

which I still don't think quite answers the point. Anyhow, the whole things is here.

Disclaimers

2008-05-27T18:25:00.002+01:00

I spent some time this afternoon rewriting the disclaimer information at the bottom of page three of the magazine I edit. It's that bit of the magazine that nobody really reads, but I decided to give it my all. Then had a slurp of coffee. Giggled to myself. And finally finished. It's not a masterpiece.

Several thoughts on disclaimers. Firstly, writing words to the effect that the views expressed in the magazine do not necessarily represent the views of the organisation does not change the reality that, for most of our readership, the views in the magazine are exactly the views of the organisation. Some people will inevitably take every word on page 12 seriously, even quotation from the mouth of an entirely independent commentator, and entirely ignore my little disclaimer. Much as I might like to absolve myself of some corporate responsibility in my editorial decisions, my readers won't give me the same latitude.

Secondly, it's hard to be funny. On the basis that few people would be committed enough to read them, I rewrote them with a humorous tone to reward them for their effort. Now I'm away from my computer and on the train home, I'm not sure I pulled it off. In any case, the world is overflowing with smug sounding marketers who want to make their widgets sound like Innocent smoothies, and I'm not sure I want to be one of them.

Finally, it's very easy to give too much attention to things that don't matter. The disclaimers, exactly as they were, were absolutely fine. I'll probably change them back tomorrow. So there's a little portion of my life I can never get back, wasted on something of no consequence. If nobody's going to notice, it can just be OK. And I could have left the office 20 minutes earlier.

DISCLAIMER: Please note that the views in this blog post do not necessarily reflect the views of Andy Jaeger.

Complex

2008-05-24T20:46:00.002+01:00

I've blogged about this before, but it's something I think about fairly regularly. Tonight, for the first time, a ticket inspector on East Midlands questioned my use of a gold record card to reduce the cost of my train from Bedford. "Because you don't have a season ticket," was his reasoning. Except I do have a season ticket. It's on my Oyster card, but he can't see it. Which is also why I have the card, to demonstrate what's hidden on the blue and white piece of plastic. This seemed to be lost on him, and instead he focused on the words "not valid for travel" across the centre of the card. Of course it's not valid for travel, I wanted to say, because it's the Oyster card that opens barriers on the tube. It's a cunning piece of card though, I wanted to say, because as well as being a receipt, it's also a sign. A clue. A hint that you should not consider it on its own. It needs its plastic companion to give it meaning, and the Oyster card needs its less glamorous friend to explain the nature of its being. They are symbiotically dependent on each other.

In the end, we didn't have that conversation, though I knew I was right and he didn't really understand the ticketing rules for his own train company. Instead, I said, "Oh, OK," and hoped never to bump into him again.

It does make me wonder how many people end up paying too much because they don't understand how to make the complexity of the system work for them, not against them. Buying train tickets is easy. Not paying too much is hard. And because the more expensive ticket will always be valid, nobody will ever tell you the truth of the situation if you've overpaid. In fact, paying too much is so normal, nobody notices.

I also wonder however why I pretended not to understand the rules, simply because someone who looked more official but didn't understand the rules told me that I was wrong. I consider myself to be free thinking, and my ruthless attachment to logic rather than principle can be maddening, even to myself. I just hadn't taken myself to be someone who bows unthinkingly to authority figures. Well, not since I left the cult anyway. I must find a policeman on the way home and knock his hat off.

"Working" from home

2008-05-23T18:14:00.002+01:00

I "worked" from home today. I say "worked" not worked because in reality my output has been somewhat limited. I think this comes with the territory though. I've never honestly known anyone come in from a day working at home with a completed version of War and Peace on their memory stick.

It does however present a bit of a problem. The organisation I work for is adopting New Ways of Working. In summary, I won't have a desk any more and I'll be expected to work, not "work", from home more often. The desk bit is fine with me. I only occupy it for 50% of my working hours anyway so sharing it with one or more people is entirely sensible. But I'm rubbish at working, rather than "working", at home. Being a social person, and doing an essentially social job, means that I've normally gone slightly loopy by the end of my day if I'm by myself. It's not good. I do not play well without others.

I'm off out for a beer, or perhaps several beers, with a friend now. I'll hug him very enthusiastically and I'm sure he'll think it's a reflection on him. In truth, I'm starved of human contact. I must never become a hermit.

Blog from flickr

2008-05-23T17:38:00.004+01:00

Blog
Originally uploaded by andyjaeger

Just a little test to see how this latest bit of joinedupness works. Relatively well, it seems. I was expecting it to be automatic, though on reflection it's quite nice to have the control over what appears where.

Top Gear finally reply

2008-05-23T15:40:00.002+01:00

A while ago - back during the London mayoral campaign - I complained about the way in which the issue of street parking in London was covered. I'm not usually one to shout at the TV, but having had people complain about local parking and what the mayor was going to do about it, I had a rant. Actually it was a quite polite rant that read...

During this evening's programme, Jeremy Clarkson demonstrated the difficulties in paying for street car parking in London by mobile phone. Following this item, he suggested that Ken Livingstone should be blamed for this.

As Mayor of London, Ken Livingstone does not have direct control of local parking - this is the responsibility of the London boroughs. Jeremy Clarkson's comments were misleading and entirely inappropriate during an election period.

I know how seriously the BBC takes balanced coverage, and I am disappointed that Top Gear's editorial team did not take this matter seriously.

In fact, I was very polite. Jeremy Clarkson had called for Ken Livingstone to be burned alive in public. Knowing this to be a "joke", I didn't make an issue of it. Anyhow, there was me thinking the BBC would never get round to replying to me, but an email arrived today. And here's what they said...

Thank you for contacting us about 'Top Gear', blah, blah, blah...

The programme in question should have made it clearer that the pay-by-phone parking scheme was the responsibility of Westminster City Council and not the Mayor. One can clearly hear the words 'welcome to Westminster's parking service' at the beginning of the piece indicating it is their initiative.

What followed was intended as a more general and light hearted discussion by the 'Top Gear' presenters of how to react towards someone, i.e. the Mayor, regularly portrayed by the programme as being 'anti-car'. We recognise that the sentence "we've got to do something about Ken Livingstone" immediately after the criticism of the Westminster scheme was misleading and could have given the impression that any shortcomings in the scheme were the fault of the Mayor.

We're sorry for having suggested a link existed and we would like to assure you that we have registered your comments on our audience log. This is the internal report... blah, blah, blah...

At least they've recognised that blaming Ken for Westminster's street parking was misleading. There is a certain irony though that so many Westminster councillors are taking up residence in the other City Hall, and they really are to blame for the parking system.

Doing business

2008-05-13T13:23:00.002+01:00

Just on my way back from an important meeting with a company I've worked closely with for almost 18 months. You'd think that after that length of time things would be relaxed, easy, straightforward. I can't say they were. It's not that the company's changed, I'm unhappy with what they've done or that there's anything particularly wrong. But things are different.

It's all about people. When I started work with this company, I clicked with everyone. Well, not instantly, but over time we developed a shared understanding, a shared history and a shared experience of the ups and downs. Over the past few months, everyone else has moved on. Today, I was the only person in the room who was there at the start. I found myself reiterating issues that were done and dusted months ago, explaining things that before would have been taken as the norm. So, we reverted to types. Them as account managers wanting to grow their business, me as recalcitrant client wanting to not spend my budget with them. Suddenly, out of nowhere, any real sense of partnership, shared commitment and connection appeared to vanish.

It's almost certainly a failing of mine that I can't divorce my heart from my head when I'm doing business, but things just aren't the same any more. Heads are good for making deals, but hearts are better for working relationships. And right now, my heart's not in it.

Turning blue, turning off

2008-05-09T13:32:00.002+01:00

I've just seen the tube alcohol ban poster for the first time at Oxford Circus. To be honest, it looks a bit half-arsed. I completely understand though. If I was the creative working on it, I'd be less than enthusiastic. Especially given that a report earlier in the week claimed that 41 percent of creatives and media types had turned up to work drunk at some point in their careers. How can you do that if you can't drink during rush hour? Well, after rush hour. Being in before 10 seriously stiffles creativity. Being sober is even worse.

That said, the logo for the mayor of London seems to have changed. I always rather liked the fact that the "on" at the end of "London" was red, in contrast to the blue. In the alcohol ban poster, it's not. Given that there's red elsewhere in the poster, not using a two colour version won't be a matter of limiting printing costs, so there are two possible explanations. Either the designer, in a particularly half-arsed way, chose the single colour version because he or she couldn't be bothered. Or something's changed. It would be a very subtle way of signalling it, but changing the logo would show that Boris Johnson is true blue. Unfortunately for him, it also shows that he's not switched "on". I wonder if he ever was.

Drunk on the tube

2008-05-07T23:11:00.003+01:00

I suppose I'll just have to leave that can of Carling unopened in my bag from 1 June onwards. Who knows, keeping it there might just stop me mugging an old lady on the way home or breaking a window or two. That at least is what Boris Johnson is hoping.

Banning people from drinking alcohol on the tube and everywhere else on public transport is a headline grabbing measure, but it's somewhat pointless. If drunk people commit crime on the tube, it's not because they're drinking, but because they're drunk. This might just sound like semantics, but it's important. In the length of an average tube journey, most people couldn't, through drinking the alcohol they decided to carry with them, get drunk enough to become violent or become inclined to commit crime. Those tiny number of people who do commit crime are a problem because when they enter the tube, they're already drunk. The only real way to stop drunk people causing trouble on the tube would be to stop drunk people getting on the tube in the first place. I'm not sure breath testing would be popular at Leicester Square at 11.30 on a Friday night, but it would leave a lot of people stranded in central London.

I'm also sceptical about Johnson having recruited, in yet another advisory appointment, former US police chief Bill Bratton. He'll help with zero tolerance policing and drive out petty crime. While the principle is sound - tolerance of low level crime can lead to greater levels of serious crime - in this case it's completely misapplied. You see, the last time I checked, drinking alcohol in public wasn't a criminal offence. And while it might be a neat trick to classify it as a crime and solve it all in the same day, it remains a trick. Making drinking on public transport a crime in order to bring in measures to deal with that crime might lull people into a false sense of security that crime is being tackled, but existing crime will not have been dealt with and in reality, nothing will have changed. Except perhaps increasing the already huge administrative burden of the police in documenting offences and taking them away from real issues of security on our public transport network.

Day two

2008-05-07T08:30:00.001+01:00

Day two of still not quite being back at work, by which I mean not doing the core things that are in my job description but doing all the other things that go along with being part of an organisation, is off to an early start. And I say early start, though the reality is that pitching up before 9am is entirely normal for most people. Anyway, I'm helping out with interviews this morning for a job I don't really understand, so I'm hoping the people I'm interviewing with get it. Our interviewees are doing presentations, and frankly I'm just hoping they'll keep me awake.

A bit of space

2008-05-06T18:32:00.002+01:00

After a very hectic and fun week away from the office, being back at work is a shock to the system.

My email inbox was heaving this morning. I've decided, the next time I go away, to update my out of office message to say I won't be reading any of my emails when I get back to work. I might even autodelete them all. I'm kidding myself and other people otherwise. After a week, issues will either get worse or fix themselves. If they've got worse, someone will shout at me as I walk through the door. If they've fixed themselves, I don't need to know. I wonder, if I did that and made myself available to chat on the phone to anyone and everyone on my first morning back, whether my day would be more productive. I certainly wouldn't be ploughing through endless discussions about all sorts of nonsense. I could find out what I needed to know and just get on with things.

As it was, I wouldn't have been able to do that anyway. I had a new person starting in my team this morning and I've been out all afternoon going to 60 minutes worth of presentation and meeting in Birmingham. I must not let this happen again. A clear diary on my first day back from holiday is essential. It'll get filled anyway but space is invaluable.

Anyway, at the end of that busy day I find myself not at home but on a train back from Birmingham. I really just want to be in my garden. My hands are sore today from an afternoon of intensive digging, but bindweed must be dealt with, especially as I like the neighbours and don't want to annoy them. I also want to make it a garden to sit in, rather than a patch of weeds to stare at. Right now it's halfway there. It's a patch of largely weedless mud to stare at. Gravel, raised beds, the odd chair and it's done. Like an empty diary after a week's holiday, a bit of space after a busy day. Just about perfect.

1,428 days is a long time in politics

2008-05-03T10:28:00.002+01:00

I was upset last night. I cried a little when I saw Ken's speech, though I'd like to say in my defence that I was drunk and very tired. But this morning, the sun is shining over my glorious city and I'm determined that Boris Johnson will not ruin my day.

But I'm more than a little nervous that he will ruin my city. Cities are no better or worse than their citizens, and benefit from leaders who unashamedly put people first, especially people at the margins. Ken was good for London because he cared passionately about Londoners. Johnson still has to demonstrate that this is true of him. Giving up his constituency in Oxfordshire and committing himself to the capital will be a good start. Even then, he'll struggle to convince people he governs in the interests of all Londoners since he secured his new position as the second choice of the BNP.

But that aside, the biggest problem for Johnson is the length of his term of office. 1,428 days is a long time in politics. A gaffe-free election was surprising enough, but does anyone really think he'll manage 1,428 days without spectacularly cocking up? And what happens when he does? It's not as if David Cameron can sack him again.

It's fairly standard advice that you shouldn't lie in job interviews and pretend to be something you're not. The danger is you have to live up to that lie consistently and flawlessly for as long as you have the job. Johnson's campaign was built on undeliverable promises and a misrepresentation of who he is. Right now, our new mayor has a lot to live up to, consistently and flawlessly, for the next 1,428 days and frankly, he won't manage it. It's literally impossible. It's not just that he won't be able to deliver on the things he promised. He also won't be able to live up to the lie of who he's pretended to be.

But there's an upside. He might have the UK's biggest electoral backing, but he also has the UK's biggest electoral opposition. Over a million people voted against him. Over a million of us weren't taken in by his undeliverable promises. Over a million of us refused to believe he was no longer a racist, homophobic, bigoted moron. So right now there are over a million people watching and waiting for the moment we can say to his voters "we told you so."

1,428 days is a long time in politics. Even longer when over a million people are watching your every move.

Almost there...

2008-05-01T21:04:00.002+01:00

Just a quick update to say that the last time anyone checked, my bit of the ward had the best turnout. More details when everything's counted tomorrow, but I'm very happy. I also seem to have volunteered myself for more campaigning. Such is life.

Fish and chips on the way right now. I'm tired but happy. I only hope I'll still be happy when the results are announced tomorrow and Ken is returned to office.

What a day!

2008-05-01T19:36:00.002+01:00

Today has been hectic. I've walked the streets round where I live often enough to have very sore feet. All the houses are a blur, but I can say that grey is a very popular colour right now if you're painting your front door. Anyhow, whether I've put a last minute postcard through the letterbox or knocked on the door to find out someone's voting intentions, I've invested a lot of energy in a handful of streets.

Whether I like it or not, I'll feel personally responsible for the outcome when it's announced tomorrow evening. Tomorrow's waiting may be unbearable. Whatever happens though, I'm glad I've done my bit.

I've never been this involved in an election before, and I'm hooked. The by election for Gwyneth Dunwoody's seat is only a few weeks away. I might just book a train ticket...

Ken

2008-05-01T00:05:00.003+01:00

I had the pleasure of following Ken Livingstone around Brixton this afternoon as the last day of campaigning saw him out and about, pressing the flesh with voters. Proudly wearing my Vote Ken t-shirt, there were postcards to give away and stickers to apply. And it rained and rained. Still, despite the terrible weather, it was a cracking afternoon.

Ken in the flesh is impressive. I'm not easily awed by people, and to be fair, meeting Ken didn't leave me a quivering wreck, but he does have an incredible presence about him. Seeing people leave their shops just for the chance of shaking his hand is a humbling experience. The man inspires genuine affection. For people like me, who get hung up on opinion polls and voter turnout, it's easy to forget that democracy is really an exercise in trust between the electorate and the elected. Elections are won and lost on the connections that are made. Whichever party people vote for, they'll vote first and foremost for people who are real.

Seeing Ken with people highlighted for me what a total travesty for London the election of Boris Johnson would be. He has no place being mayor for the people of Brixton, and anyone who says so is fooling themselves. Compared to Ken, he's an immature political child, shouting and bumbling and playing the fool. Ken is the real thing.

I'm bound by party rules to vote for Ken tomorrow, but despite the rules, and just on the strength of what I saw this afternoon, Ken and Val Shawcross and the Labour list would have my vote in the morning. Ken is Brixton's mayor, and my mayor, and I want it to stay that way.

Where's the social in social networking?

2008-04-29T18:52:00.003+01:00

For reasons which now seem somewhat mysterious to me, I decided to spend part of my holiday at Internet World today, and was enormously disappointed and uninspired. Despite being imminently responsible for a project that will completely rethink a complex and interesting website, and hence expecting to find something to spark my imagination, I found nothing useful. I think it's because the exhibition is answering the wrong questions.

Ten years ago, five even, perhaps even as recently as last year, technology was everything. What was really exciting in the world of the web was how the stuff worked. New innovations in social networking, connectivity, mobile access, content management... these things were really important. Like Mr Gutenberg and the early days of his terribly impressive movable type, everyone was excited about the mechanics. If all your energy and thought is going into how big your typefaces should be and how to arrange them in the frame, it doesn't much matter what you print. What's most exciting is that something's been printed.

Just in the past year, almost imperceptibly, things have started to change in the world of the web. It wasn't until I was halfway through a pint in the pub afterwards that it struck me. Going to Internet World was like stepping into a time machine and going back to 2007. I got side tracked into a demonstration of what was billed as a new exciting content management system, only to find that it was no more dynamic and sophisticated than what I could achieve with blogger. Which is to say, the technology in and of itself has stopped being impressive. I wonder whether it's possible to be wowed any more.

Wandering around Internet World, I was faced with an unanswered question, despite all the answers on offer, because nobody seemed interested in what technology, connection and sharing could achieve. Everything on offer seemed to be about bits of kit. Despite all the interest in social networking, the focus was the networking, not the social. Despite the thousands of people coming through the doors, humanity seemed strangely missing.

Slowing down

2008-04-28T18:05:00.003+01:00

My first week off in going well, with a long lie in and an afternoon mooching around Tate Britain, complete with cream tea in the members room. Just lovely. Nice and slow.

The Camden town group, of whom there is an exhibition currently at the Tate, entitled Modern Painters, were a disparate bunch held together by geography more than artistic style. Their work evokes a London before and during the First World War. It's a London that's surprisingly recognisable, with crowded streets, cramped living rooms and muted colours. It's also a London of real surprises. I particularly enjoyed street scenes of cars, horses and people all intermingling with no traffic lights or street signs. Just chaotic, but slow, coexistence.

There's a school of thought that says in urban areas, we'd be better off getting rid of traffic lights and encouraging real awareness by drivers as a way of keeping traffic moving. Given that traffic speeds in central London are, on average, the same if not slower than a century ago, it's an interesting argument. The real problem would come in trying it out. It would only take on person narrowly missed or hit by a car to derail the entire experiment.

I wonder whether it's worth considering though. People are generally better at organising themselves than being organised. There's no reason to think that wouldn't be true of people in their cars too. Speed limits undoubtedly save lives, but in areas where average speeds are well below the speed limit, surely we should keep things moving, not slow them down further. That way, we might get close to some kind of equality between the people, whether in cars, on bikes or on foot. Chaotic and slow coexistence sounds very appealing.

themanattheticketoffice.com

2008-04-26T09:55:00.002+01:00

A while ago, I took part in a discussion about buying train tickets. It might seem a not particularly significant discussion topic - but then, how many are? - but somebody was wrong on the internet and therefore urgently needed correcting.

They commented in praise of thetrainline.com and how it always gave them the best value fairs. From my point of view this was and is clearly nonsense. Being an unintelligent system, it's subject to peculiar errors, like in December when it told me that only first class tickets were available for a journey to Bedford. I rang to query this and was told, by someone using the same system, that yes, there were no standard class tickets left because they'd "all sold out." On every service, on every day, at every time, for the next three months. So I took a walk to my local station, had a nice chat with the man at the ticket office, and saved myself £30 or so with a standard ticket.

An additional element of thetrainline's unintelligence is its inability to deal with the huge complexity of our train ticket system. It just lacks the real life experience of making the most out of a difficult situation.

Here's the issue. Buying a return from St Pancras to Wellingborough, a journey I take every weekend, costs a standard £31.90. Or I thought it did, until I spoke to the man in the ticket office. My season ticket, paid for with a loan from work, also gives me a Gold Record Card. This magical rectangle gives a third off all train travel in the south east. Wellingborough isn't in the south east, but Bedford, the stop just before, is. So, thanks to the man in the ticket office, I buy a cheap day return with my Gold Record Card from the boundary of zone 3 - incidentally a place unknown to thetrainline - to Bedford, then another cheap day return from Bedford to Wellingborough. I don't, contrary to opinion, have to get off the train at Bedford, and I pay just £16.45. Leaving me an additional £15 which buys me breakfast at St Pancras and lunch with my son.

I'm sure I could argue with thetrainline to get it to do this, but it would take longer than queuing to buy my ticket. Anyhow, the last time I used it, thetrainline didn't recognise me when I approached the ticket window, ask me how my son's getting on or comment on the lovely weather.

Even if someone set up themanattheticketoffice.com, I still wouldn't use it. Some things are just better when they involve real people.

Connections and the power to choose

2008-04-25T08:53:00.002+01:00

I have a meeting this morning to talk about internal communications at work and what we can do to improve it. Some of our problems are typical, some not so, but I'm not at all convinced that we'll reach anything like solutions. Essentially, I'm admitting that getting up early for an early meeting may be a waste of time.

Like so many places of work, we're efficient but not connected, and that worries people, especially our senior team. The goal of our internal communication is to increase understanding, engagement and action. The problem is that the connections needed to foster those things are messy and inefficient because unlike systems and processes, people are hard to re-engineer. Perhaps impossible. Getting people out of their boxes and silos is difficult because they are not only the easiest places for people to be, but also because they are the most efficient.

On a micro, individual scale, we understand the dynamics of groups and the connections in relationships. We move in personal, social and vocational circles of varying size and complexity, interlinking and interlocking patterns of people and places. And we know that connection is a good thing but it comes at the expense of efficiency. If I'm out with one friend, I'm not with another. If I'm chatting online, I'm not eating dinner with my boyfriend. If I'm spending time networking and building relationships, I'm not at my desk answering emails. There's a trade off. We make choices. And we do it so easily and naturally, we barely notice.

Which is why our senior team likes the idea of connection at work, but not the reality. Because the reality means relaxing the grip of efficiency, removing the structure the binds people's time and relocating some of the power and control. Giving people the space to connect also means giving them the power to choose. But work places are driven ultimately by compulsion rather than choice, and the people in those work places know that. And the senior team know that. And I know that.

And I'm still going to a meeting to try and change all that. Why? Because I don't have a choice.

In which the author undergoes a rite of passage on Oxford Street

2008-04-23T20:35:00.002+01:00

This evening, I emerged from a well known department store, having undergone a rite of passage. I've finally admitted to myself that I'm just not young any more.

One of the hazards of working just off Oxford Street is that every morning, the first thing I see on leaving the tube is the glowing temple to youth and fashion that is Topshop. The last time I ventured onto the first floor, two things struck me. Firstly, neon colours did not suit me first time round and so are unlikely to two decades later. Secondly, I am a good 10 to 15 years older than the average Topshop shopper. 20 if you count the kids buying belts with their pocket money. 25 if they are desperately precocious brats called Phoebe or Cressida, and they're spending their afternoon shopping with Magda the maid while "Mummy's at an important meeting, darling, but we'll have dinner together later, I promise, my sweetheart. Be good for Magda..."

But I digress. For a while, I haven't really gone shopping, partly because I've been in denial that the Oxford Street temple is no longer the right place for me. If I don't shop at all, I can kid myself that I just don't need anything right now, not that nothing suits or fits me. Essentially, not shopping is a way of avoiding the truth.

So tonight was an event. I believe it's important to face the truth with confidence and boldness, so here goes... I went to Debenham's. I bought a nice shirt from the Rocha John Rocha range, which fits me well but doesn't cling and doesn't require me to breathe in all day. And I bought a pair of light brown, flat front chinos. They are comfortable and well made. And...

Here goes. The truth. Confident and bold.

They have a flexible self adjusting waistband.

Here's to George, a very English saint

2008-04-23T09:55:00.004+01:00

As is expected for any English celebration, it's pouring with rain this morning in London. We've woken to a rather damp and grey St George's day, but it's only fitting. He is after all a very English saint.

English? How? Well, the fact that he was born according to legend in what is modern day Turkey might explain our traditional after drinking ritual of eating kebabs, while his patronage of those suffering from syphilis is entirely appropriate as cases of sexually transmitted infections steadily grow.

His historicity is itself highly questionable, making him a good fit for a country that talks about the good old days that never really were. And we share him with other places including Brazil, Ethiopia, Bulgaria and Palestine. So to top it all off, he's a citizen of the world.

If all that sounds unpatriotic, I don't mean it to. I love my country. I was born down the road from Shakespeare and I've lived in England almost all my life. The thing is, my England isn't the England of God, Harry and St George. It's the England of overcrowded commuter trains, complaining about the weather, Radio 4 and knowing that we tax cakes and biscuits differently. It's the England of baltis, Chinese takeaways, Czech lager and stilton cheese. Of suits, tattoos, pull along shopper trolleys and a strange sense of what's fair. My England isn't depicted on tea towels and souvenirs, but I don't want to live in a tourist attraction. I live in the real England, and I think St George would approve.

Because of this, I've unsubscribed

2008-04-23T08:00:00.006+01:00

Unsubscribe moviegreat free widgetsWidgetbox

This has to be one of the most shocking films I've seen in a while. What's truly shocking is that this type of torture happens day after day in the so called war against terror. Who's terrorising who? This has to stop. I've unsubscribed.

Down my street

2008-04-22T22:50:00.003+01:00

I had the pleasure of my first evening of canvassing this evening, going with a clipboard down my street and back again, Ken badge proudly displayed. Half way down the odd side of the street, I worked out exactly what I was supposed to be doing, and by the end of the odd side, I even opened my mouth. Apologies to the first person I spoke to. I was less than coherent, but I was doing my best! I'm pleased to say that the even side of the street was much, much better.

What we heard on the doorstep was interesting, and flies in the face of the opinion polls that show the two main candidates neck and neck. Of the people we spoke too, a significant proportion were Labour voters who "always voted Labour and don't see the need to change now." There were some who wanted Labour, but felt Ken was arrogant, a position that is so personal it is almost impossible to argue with. As someone said, "I'll vote Labour, but Ken's a hard man to like." Where that man's mayoral vote will go on 1 May is anyone's guess, but I think he was convinced that Val Shawcross was a good choice for the Assembly.

There was lots of talk of local parking problems. There's an interesting anomaly in London's transport policy, that almost everything aside from local street parking for cars falls in the mayor's remit. One person I spoke to was so concerned about it, I promised to go away and check. I went back to tell her once I had. I tried to explain that the mayor couldn't fix local parking problems, but she said Ken was ducking the issue... I guess you can't win them all.

And finally, there were the people who hadn't made up their minds quite yet, but had definitely decided their vote would go to anyone but Boris Johnson. Whatever kind of write up he gets from the Evening Standard, and however well he plays on TV, on my road tonight, I didn't hear a single positive thing about him. He was a "joke", even "entertaining", but most of all "dangerous for London".

I'm not sure who the pollsters ask when they run their opinion polls, but it's certainly not my street.

If a tree falls in a forest, does Kevin Bacon hear it scream?

2008-04-22T17:55:00.002+01:00

I like the Zen question about trees falling in forests and whether they make any noise if nobody's there to hear. It makes my brain hurt, in a stretched and puzzled way, which I figure can only be a good thing.

It also makes me think about this blog. I've been heartened recently by reading Clay Shirky's excellent book and discovering, to my surprise, the relative unconnectedness of much of Web 2.0. In the case of blogs, just like this, readership and connection is limited to a handful of people. What makes the pattern of connections interesting is those people's connections with others. I wonder whether I could get to Kevin Bacon's blog in six steps? In any case, I'm somewhere deep in the long tail of connectivity, far off the right hand end of the graph. It's not true that nobody hears the Zen tree fall over. The tumbleweed does.

In the end, does it matter what I contribute to the growing body of opinion on the web? I think it matters more that I contribute at all, make a few connections and play my part as a link. I've already beaten the norm by keeping my blog going for more than a few posts. Now all I need is some readers...

Being Sralan

2008-04-22T11:35:00.002+01:00

I find the Apprentice compelling viewing, but frankly terrifying. If the 12 people left in Sralan Sugar's boardroom represent the best business brains Britain has on offer, we're in serious trouble. Equally worrying is that the remaining contestants will be tested rigorously for a job that is of little consequence, while an untested television presenter and journalist can get away with confused policies and promises in his bid to run one of the world's major cities.

So how did we get into this situation with the London mayoral election? More critically, how can serious, intelligent people believe Boris Johnson is a credible candidate? I'd like to see him in the Apprentice boardroom. He'd make great telly. Bluffing his way through decisions, banging the table, changing his mind constantly, not costing his projects. His bumbling buffoonery would be hugely entertaining. You'd wait for the moment Sralan called him a shambles. And hold out for the moment Sralan says "you're fired."

So, here's a request to the serious, intelligent people who are thinking of voting for Boris Johnson. Put yourself on Sralan's side of the table. On election day, your vote hires the most powerful person in our capital's life. Do you really just want to be entertained? Or do you want someone who's competent?

Ken has an extraordinary track record of delivery on the things that really matter to Londoners. You may not like Ken as a person. You might think he's been around too long and London needs a change. But if that's your reason for choosing Boris Johnson, think again. What matters is who will do the best job as mayor. You're Sralan on 1 May. For London's sake, do the right thing and hire Ken.

Emailed from my phone

2008-04-20T23:56:00.001+01:00

See? Clever huh?

New look

2008-04-20T22:03:00.003+01:00

Well, I farted around for 90 minutes trying to find a template somewhere else on the web, and in the end settled on this one, which I think is quite nice looking. I'll keep playing til it's perfect, but that's life really.

Twitter

2008-03-26T22:10:00.004Z

Just discovered Twitter. Micro-updates, like the status update on facebook, but straight from my mobile phone. So I can chart the minutiae for anyone who happens to care or be watching. This may be entirely pointless, especially if nobody else I know joins, but I do quite like it.

twitter.com/andyjaeger if you want to find me. It's a hyper-minimalist facebook.

Noooooooo.....!!!!!!!

2008-03-06T08:16:00.001Z

My arm

2008-01-15T11:20:00.001Z

For anyone who hasn't been following my status updates and wall posts, I managed to fracture the radius bone in my forearm while ice skating on my birthday. Pinot Grigio and ice skates don't mix, for future reference. Having been to the fracture clinic yesterday, it seems there is officially nothing they can do. The bone is cracked right in the elbow, and it'll just take some time to sort out. Three months until it's entirely back to normal apparently. In the mean time, I'm typing left handed. The only things that turn out to be desperately tricky are brushing my teeth (being right handed, I just don't seem to have the coordination to manage with my left) and spraying deodorant in my left armpit!

Meanwhile, my arm is becoming noticeably more mobile each morning, but is still very sore. I'm back to work tomorrow, which will be interesting. Nothing will get done quickly, but that might be a good thing!

Think you know your TV, music and film? Try Search Charades!

Art & TMNT

2007-03-29T08:47:00.000+01:00

from http://xkcd.com/c197.html

Parked in Leicester Square yesterday morning

2007-03-27T07:25:00.000+01:00

Swearing in sign

2007-03-26T17:08:00.000+01:00

I loved this story from Digital Spy... I know that f****** is a happy thing, but I had no idea how closely related they were until now. I must learn sign language!

CBeebies character Mr Tumble has been accused of saying “I’m f****** you” on air in sign language.

The presenter, aka Justin Fletcher, opens each of his Something Special programmes with a gesture meant to mean “I’m happy to see you”.

However, according to The Sun, he is provoking anger by mixing it up with a similar sign.

One parent told the paper it had caused confusion between him and his daughter. Jamie Miller, from Yorkshire and who also works for the Royal National Institute for the Deaf, said: "The signs for “happy” and “f******” are quite similar but it was still an awful error to make.

“Katie, who is learning sign language, asked what the gesture meant. I didn’t know what to tell her.”

In British Sign Language, says the paper, “happy” translates to gently brushing the palms together while the swear word is achieved by brushing the area between the thumb and first finger together.

However, the BBC denied there was a mistake and said the mix-up was because it used a system called Makaton, not British Sign Language.

Kate Sidwell, from the RNID, commented: “We advised the BBC that using Makaton would cause confusion. Makaton is used more for children with learning difficulties — it is essentially a different language.”

OK, OK...

2007-03-26T01:23:00.000+01:00

I know it's far too late to be up and blogging on a school night, but I've been all over the place sleepwise this weekend, and there's no chance I'll be asleep any time soon, so I may as well be awake constructively, rather than lying away looking at the ceiling.

Went to the National Portrait Gallery this afternoon, and found myself transfixed by a 'portrait' of Susan Greenfield, a world-leading neuroscientist. It shifts and changes slowly over the course of about 15 minutes, as her face melts and melds into images of neurons, brain scans, scratched images, splashes of colour, distortion... it's beautiful and entrancing. The fact that I then sat on steps in Trafalgar Square some half an hour later, introspectively questionning my sanity and grip on reality, seems ironic. I suspect Susan would have slapped me. She looks like that kind of woman.

Hooray for the Lords!

2007-03-22T10:36:00.000Z

I got this email last night from Ben Summerskill at Stonewall. I remember having a conversation with him several years ago saying that while the fight for equality in law was undoubtedly a good thing, real equality would only come when I could walk down the road holding hands with my boyfriend anywhere in the country, without experiencing hostility or abuse. We're still a long way off from that point, but the passing of the sexual orientation regulations as part of the Equality Act 2006 is a great step forward.

Here's the email from Ben.

Dear Supporter

I’m delighted to be able to let you know that the House of Lords has just voted by 168 votes to 122 in support of our new goods and services protections for Great Britain. This was the very final vote we’ll face on this issue and the new regulations will now come into effect from 30 April.

This is the end of a hugely tough campaign which has lasted more than two years and which has, as you know, often descended into real unpleasantness on the part of our opponents. Earlier today, small children of seven and eight were taken out of school to hold up anti-gay posters in Parliament Square, a reminder of how poisonous some of those who fight against equality can be. It’s been a stark reminder of how much prejudice still exists.

These new laws are long overdue and will make an enormous difference to the everyday lives of millions of men and women in Britain.

Thank you for all your support during the past two years. I can’t say how grateful we are.

With very best wishes,

Ben

Ben Summerskill
Chief Executive
Stonewall

Ben on a saturday morning

2007-03-17T12:04:00.001Z

I almost wet myself laughing

2007-03-14T21:04:00.000Z

Binge drinking capital of Britain

2007-02-27T22:06:00.000Z

Just back from Newcastle. No binge drinking for me so I don't know whether the city lives up to its reputation. I spent today at a conference we were running on the Code of Conduct, and I surprised myself by having a fantastic day. We stayed at the Marriott - see the photo of my suite-like hotel room, with the biggest bed I've ever slept in. I woke up this morning lying across the bed from side to side, and it was still wider than I am tall. The Marriott's also good for freebie hotel bath stuff and shampoo. Having stayed in more business hotels than I care to remember over the past month, I can confidently rate the Marriott's complimentary toiletries as the best around. Well, the best for business hotels anyway. I'm sure really, really posh hotels have better complimentary toiletries, but work won't stretch the budget for me to find out. I'm not sure that it'd be an appropriate use of expenses anyway. Not exactly a business-critical activity.

Having finished slightly earlier than expected, I went to have a look round the Baltic. It's a fantastic gallery, with some really interesting art. Oddly, it has no permanent collection, so there's a different exhibition on every floor. Subodh Gupta's installations were pretty, though not really thought provoking, while Marcus Coates' Dawn Chorus - a multiscreen video installation of people in the morning appearing to make the sounds of birdsong - was strangely amusing. Three of the exhibitions were, in their own ways, beautiful. Brian Eno's Constellation, Vik Muniz's extraordinary portraits and Joseph Havel's textile sculptures made the visit worthwhile. The views up the Tyne, looking out over all the bridges, are spectacular.

Great shop too and much better than the Tate's. Lots of oddities, left-field design and great fridge magnets.

Busy, busy, busy

2007-02-26T01:26:00.000Z

I've been living life at full pelt recently, and I'm only managing to keep myself together for two reasons - 1) I've been too skint to go out much, and so consequently I'm forced to spend time at home doing very little and 2) I'm generally, apart from tonight when I'm wide awake at 1.30 in the morning, getting enough sleep.

The fact that my sleep, apart from tonight, has generally improved is that I'm also walking to work. It's another not having money thing, as I can't afford the oystercard right now. Actually though, it's fantastic. From Elephant I walk up to Waterloo, over Hungerford Bridge, up Northumberland Avenue to Trafalfar Square, cut through between the National Gallery and the Sainsbury Wing, through Leicester Square, up Rupert Street and then through the back streets of Soho up to Oxford Street. Despite knowing Soho incredibly well, getting across it from top to bottom can be quite complex, especially as you can't walk in a straight line from Leicester Square to Oxford Circus - too many little roads and lots of options.

I didn't realise until I started walking that it's completely flat from my house to the river, so I'll be completely buggered if the Thames barrier stops working, and that it's uphill from the river to Oxford Street. Hence the general tiredness in my legs and the need to actually sleep at night. Today being Sunday I've done ABSOLUTELY NOTHING all day, and I'm consequently WIDE AWAKE right now. This is probably a mistake, as I'll need to function at work tomorrow, and then go to Newcastle (oh joy) for a conference on Tuesday.

60s fashion at the V&A

2007-02-13T19:00:00.000Z

Revolting christians

2007-01-10T00:04:00.000Z

I had the pleasure of going to watch a protest outside parliament this evening. It's the first time I've really got that close to democracy in action, and I have to say, it's a cold and wet experience. I was absolutely bloody freezing.

Anyway, about 2,000 (according to the police) christians were gathered, trying to get the government to let them discriminate against gay people. That sentence sounds so bizarre in my head as I write it. Fortunately, common sense prevailed in the House of Lords (and heck, that doesn't happen every day) and the government rightly ignored them.

It seems odd to me that someone running a B&B would think it's acceptable to put up a sign in their window saying "no gays". It's like the old B&B signs that said "no blacks, no jews, no irish". Absolutely astonishing for the blind bigotry and hatred.

The other thing that struck me is the absolute power of belief to utterly change someone's view of the world. For the 2,000 people standing in the crowd, they weren't deluded fools shouting and singing in the darkness while people, including the police, looked on with incredulity. They were holy freedom fighters, standing up against an evil and wicked government that wanted to send gay men into their homes to sodomise their young and break their best china.

Fortunately, there wasn't much of a counter protest. In all honesty, there really didn't need to be one. The fact that they came, shone their torches, sang and got on coaches to go home again was probably enough for them. Whatever the outcome, they were victorious. It's just a shame for them that nobody at all was taking them seriously in the fight.

Oh, and I met a gorgeous policeman who gave me his email address. If we ended up getting together, I think it would be appropriate to write and thank the christians who organised the protest.

Perfect!

2007-01-03T00:10:00.000Z

My new year's resolution is to focus on the best things in my life, so here's a summary of some of the things that have been wonderful since xmas eve...

Xmas Eve
Buying fluffy pink tiara fairy lights at the last minute in Woolies, then finding pink and silver tinsel to match, and pink sparkly baubles too. I have the campest xmas tree in London.

Xmas Day
Having Johnny, Ross and Carolyn over for brunch, a winter picnic at Brian's, going to Trade and dancing til Boxing Day. Awesome. It's taken me 32 years to work out the kind of holiday I like, and I've finally discovered it. I smiled like a cheshire cat.

Ben
Coming to stay, going ice skating at the Natural History Museum, and watching him laugh outrageously while I fell on his bum and got soaking wet. And the joy of watching him open presents. And the fact I've been wearing the scarf he gave me ever since.

TV
Absolutely outstanding TV since the beginning of the year... Torchwood, This Life+10, The Thick Of It and tomorrow, Celeb BB and Desperate Housewives.

The flat above Gigalum
Well, it's not sorted yet, but it could be, and that in itself is exciting.

OK, it really is a summary. Some of that will make no sense at all. But all of it's meaningful to me. It reminds that although 2006 was possibly the biggest rollercoaster ride of my life so far, that 2007 will be better. I don't know if that means it'll be less like a rollercoaster, or whether it'll be an even bigger ride, but I can't wait to find out.

Happy New Year!

2006-12-31T18:37:00.000Z

Just getting ready to go out.

Panorama photo on my new phone

2006-12-30T22:05:00.000Z

All settled (for now)

2006-12-12T22:51:00.000Z

Moved in to Mark's yesterday, and sort of settled, for now at least. Talking to Jocelyn earlier (who's lovely and is in Neil's room) we were talking about the uncertainty of only being somewhere for such a short time. Still, it's nice to have a whole house I can use for once, rather than being stuck in one room.

Finding places to put stuff is somewhat more tricky though. The big disadvantage of housesitting, rather than it being my own place, is fitting all my stuff around all Mark's stuff. I'm going to be living out of a suitcase for a while, I reckon.

Countdown to moving

2006-12-08T08:51:00.000Z

Only a couple of days to go. I spent last night sorting my books into four piles - the pile I've brought into work this morning, the pile I'm giving away to friends, the pile I'm definitely keeping and my not-decided pile... which is huge! Actually, it's three shelves full. I'm not averse to books as decoration (given that I haven't opened most of them in a year and half) but having carried half a shelf's worth on the tube this morning, I'm not sure I can cope with the idea of carrying yet more around again.

Wasn't meant to be in work this morning, but the team has been hit by a variety of sicknesses and others are taking the day off. It's likely to be a busy day, so I decided against doing a rat/sinking-ship act and came in anyway. Fortunately, as I'm massively reducing the amount of stuff I've got to move (although it will mean several trips to the charity shop on Monday), it should be one of my quickest moves yet. I hope!

9 bags of crap

2006-12-06T12:05:00.000Z

I'm moving house this coming weekend - cat-sitting for my friends Mark & Neil who are both spending Christmas in the South African sun - so spent last night clearing out crap from my bedroom. Amazingly, as I have the smallest room in the whole world, I extracted 9 large black bin bags full of crap that I don't want to take with me.

I have to say the whole experience was quite cathartic and liberating. I've been thinking for a while that I'm much more a "having great experiences" person than a "having great things" person, so it was an opportunity for my life to catch up with my brain. Getting rid of the 9 bags of crap, quite apart from being good Feng Shui, has made me feel so much lighter on my feet. I still have to tackle the wardrobe and drawers - I wonder how many t-shirts I actually need - but I'm saving that for Friday, when I can make endless trips to the charity shop and back.

I also brought my entire CD collection into work today, to give away in return for donations to Shelter. As I've got it all on my mac and ipod, it seems daft holding onto the CDs themselves. Especially as I don't have a CD player. I just didn't realise, until I had to carry it all in two big TK Maxx bags, quite how heavy CDs are. But people are coming and browsing and taking things away, and it's nice to be able to recommend stuff as well. It's like a weird little free music store happening on the end of my desk.

Now, all I have to remember, when I eventually move into somewhere permanent in January, is not to fill my new place with crap again. Less is more. Quality not quantity. Not that I could afford quantity anyway!

This made me laugh out loud

2006-12-06T09:22:00.000Z

Christmas comes just once a year...

2006-12-04T13:18:00.000Z

Hello, my little Christmas elves!

Firstly, I do need to introduce myself. Despite being married to certain Mr Claus, he's a terrible man and I much prefer to use my maiden name, Miss Jingle Bells. It's a pleasure to meet you, darlings. And yes, I do go all the way.

My husband really is a great big drunken oaf. He's a beast, and not in the nice way. Honestly, darlings, men of a certain age. Well, he eats too much, drinks too much and is such a disappointment in the bed department. They say Christmas comes once a year... well, I'd be a very lucky girl if that were the case! The doctor gave him some little blue pills, but I certainly haven't seen the benefits. But it would be fair to say that Rudolph's nose isn't the only part of him that's red.

Anyway, the lovely people at the NMC were kind enough to invite me to attend their Christmas bash on Friday evening, and I dragged myself away from the frozen wastelands of the arctic north to grace them with my presence and distribute prizes. I was delighted to announce the winner of best dressed male, though, as I always say, the best dressed male is an undressed male, and he was surprisingly clothed. I was slightly less than happy though to present the prize for best dressed female. Evil show-stealing bitch. It should have been me. Still I was as gracious as you'd expect, and stabbed her in the foot with my heel later on the dance floor.

Talking of the dance floor, I was unlucky enough to be woman-handled by various drunken midwives. I said to them, "It's a little bloating darlings, I'm not having a baby!", but my cries fell on deaf ears. Still, despite the arrests for assault and indecent exposure, it was a wonderful night. Sadly, I may have to wait until next Christmas for another party invitation. In the mean time, I'm available for christenings, bar mitzvahs and funerals.

Lots of love, my darlings, and merry Christmas.

Miss Jingle Bells

xx

A night at the Palace

2006-11-23T17:25:00.000Z

Just back from a work outing to Manchester, to meet 120 nurses and midwives keen to find out more about the NMC's Code of Conduct, and how they can stay out of trouble. We held the conference at the Palace Hotel, which I can only describe as stunning and vast. I've never been a hotel that's as big! The entrance hall was enormous, with a massive vaulted glass dome. It was obvious from the inscription round the top of the walls that it was formerly some kind of insurance company, but now it's a hugely impressive, if a little conference-y, hotel. A complete maze trying to find my room too, which was lovely. Entrance hall, big bathroom, canopied bed, seating area... well, even if the nurses didn't get anything out of it, I loved the hotel! Good to know we're spending their money well... ahem...

Time for an update...

2006-11-20T17:29:00.000Z

Blogging's so much fun when you're out of work, and so easy to let slip when you're busy. Which is one way of saying - hooray, I'm gainfully employed again! I got the job at the Nursing and Midwifery Council, and three weeks in (or four - I've lost count) I'm really happy in my new job.

There's loads to do, but I'm grateful to be surrounded by some fantastically supportive, enthusiastic and competent people. It makes going to work a real joy (for a change) and I get a real sense of achievement at the end of the day. Well, some days. Some days, it's a pain in the arse when things don't work out, and I run up against people who just don't want to change and do things differently. But fortunately, they are few and far between.

Things move painfully slowly on the boyfriend front, sadly, with lots of false starts and endless (actually, that makes me sound like a slut, and I'm really not) men telling me they're not "over their last boyfriend". I've been trying to work out whether this is just a touchy-feely way of saying "it's not you, it's me", which is really a nice way of saying "nope, I just don't fancy you". I'm sure that somewhere out there, there's a man who's devastating handsome, funny, intelligent, emotionally together who'll fancy the pants off me, and I'll fancy the pants off him back. Well, I can dream. So, in the mean time, the hunt for the elusive mister right continues. Oh no... I sound like Bridget Jones... 20 fags, v bad. Lost 2lbs, v good. Aargh!

And on the move too. Finally got round to handing my notice in on my room in Clapham. I'm housesitting over Christmas and need to get myself sorted for the new year. I'm not even bothering to look yet. Everything available is for December at the earliest, and I don't need anything til January. Which means I'll probably start housesitting with the potential for homelessness in the new year hanging over my head. But there you go. Such is life.

Job news

2006-10-17T09:26:00.000+01:00

It's been a week and a bit since my last blog entry, as I'm delighted to say I've actually been busy working! I started a temp job the week before last for the Nursing and Midwifery Council as an Online Journalist - odd job title, but basically I get to play with the website and intranet all day, which is quite good fun. And there's good news too - interviewing this week for a permanent position with the NMC, as Marketing and Publications Manager. I'm basically applying to be my own boss, if that makes any sense. But it should be good. After the manic nature of my last job, it's fantastic to work with people who appreciate what I do and apparently work at something less than a totally frantic pace. Yay!

So, keeping everything crossed for Friday...

Angie's birthday

2006-10-08T16:22:00.000+01:00

One of my best friends Angie celebrated her (ahem...) birthday yesterday. Getting to Angie's house is a bit of a trek, given that she lives, by London standards, in the middle of nowhere. It was a fairly surreal experience sitting in what looked like a London black (except this one was white) cab from Bedford station, and being driven not through congested streets but open fields. But it was, as always, completely wonderful to see her.

Angie and I first met having what she described as emotional sex over a bottle of wine or four at a conference together. We stayed up until I don't know when in the morning, talking about everything in the world. And that's fairly much been the pattern of our relationship ever since. She's one of the few people in the world I'll let tell me off, and they are very few and far between because I don't like being told, and she has a habit of putting her finger on exactly what it is I need to talk about at any time. She also has a very special place in my recent life for being the first person I talked to about going to San Francisco. Her boyfriend Mike was sitting in the brown arm chair that I was sitting in when I decided to go, and I told him to be careful. Whatever you wish in that chair seems to come true. I'd recommend it highly.

Getting back from the middle of nowhere was an experience too. Mike dropped me at Arlesey station, which is literally two platforms next to a road somewhere past the middle of nowhere on your way to the place where cars drive over the edge of the world. But only 40 minutes from King's Cross. It was quicker to get to King's Cross from Angie's than it was to get from King's Cross home. Weird. I completely get Einstein's thing about time and distance being relative. Anyone who's ever been on public transport knows that's true.

Good girls eat carbs?

2006-10-02T12:21:00.000+01:00

Went to see The Devil Wears Prada with Sarah on Saturday. There's so much to love about the film, not least Meryl Streep who is wonderful. Quietly spoken, icy cold and dripping in fashion from immaculately coiffured head to Manolo toe. Her performance is outstanding and it's hard as a high fashion aspiring gay man not to fall in love with her. If anything could propel Streep further into icon status, it's this movie.

But there's lots of dislike too. Sarah came out about twice as annoyed as I did, but then she had two major problems with the movie, while I had only one. Sarah's first complaint (and not mine) is about fashion's obsession with skinniness. Nope, too small a word - about the way in which women are starved and starving themselves to fit into fashion that is rapidly disappearing. Her argument, and it's a compelling one, is that the kind of imagery young girls see shows them that they can only be desirable and attractive if they are on the point of starvation. I personally don't agree. Having recently finished reading Fashion Babylon, I understand so much better the fashion industry's apparent obsession with the disappearing woman. There are two strands to the issue. The first is that the women who walk down runways aren't women. They are models. They are there simply to carry the clothes. It's the clothes that are important, not the women who are wearing them. As someone comments in Fashion Babylon, if he could arrange it for his clothes to move down the catwalk entirely indepedently of human support, he would. The second issue is cost. For an aspiring and struggling designer, making a sample is a size 8 takes so much less fabric than a size 16. If you are dependent on a small number of sales from a garment that's made entirely speculatively, it makes sense to use as few resources as possible. If that means it has to be worn by an emaciated 14 year old in your collection show, it's harsh, but it's life. Ironically, fashion designers need to earn money to eat, even if their models can't.

The second complaint about the film is one I share with Sarah, and it's about the portrayal of women with successful careers. If the movie were transplanted to another industry, and Streep's character played by Michael Douglas, obsession with work would not even be a blip on the screen writer's radar. The story works because Andy, the character played by Anne Hathaway, faces a very real choice about whether to sacrifice her life for her career. But in the movies, if not in real life, that's only a dramatic choice when it's presented to women. As a result, I found myself rooting for Streep. Why should she not have it all, even if her drip of a husband (who makes a fleeting appearance) cannot understand, and walks from their marriage? Some men live in fear of successful women, and sadly, some women internalise that attitude. I only hope that the hordes of teenage girls who watch the movie don't follow Hathaway's lead. The world needs more women like Streep, not less.

Oh, and a final gripe. The ending's rubbish and nothing like the book. The book sees Andy selling the clothes rather than giving them away, and paying her rent for the year. But I guess showing her as aspiring to anything beyond motherhood and apple pie just wouldn't be fairytale enough.

Home again

2006-09-25T17:58:00.000+01:00

Well, I'm home again. Actually, I've been back since Wednesday night, but it's taken me about that long to work out what continent I'm on and what time of day it is. I actually woke up in my own bedroom on Thursday morning thinking that my room in Iceland, or was it New York, looked different from when I went to sleep.

Anyhow, back to good old normal life and serious job hunting. Spent today poring over the Guardian Jobs section. Something needs to turn up soon!

N-Iceland

2006-09-19T22:43:00.000+01:00

Had the most amazing two days here. Just going to mooch round Reykjavik tomorrow before the flight home, so we've really crammed in the activity over the past two days.

I spent yesterday morning going to the national art gallery, photography gallery and the settlement exhibition. The art gallery was full of the strangest conceptual art I've ever seen - a whole room of broken TVs, weird collections of objects, that kind of thing. I guess I may have missed something in translation. The photography gallery was fantastic though - they've got a retrospective of an Icelandic photographer from the 1950s, and his portraits were so stunning and contemporary, they looked like they might have been taken last week with people in period dress. Amazing. The settlement exhibition was cool too - I now know a lot more about how people came to live in Iceland and how they lived. It's based round the ruins of a house that's more than 1,000 years old, which was found in the centre of Reykjavik, and it's been preserved in the basement of a building with a big interactive exhibition around it. Chilled out in the afternoon and went to a couple of bars last night. It's so strange being able to smoke inside again - I'm not sure I like it. Bring on the ban!

Today's been a big outdoorsy day. We hired a big 4x4 this morning, and went to see all the big tourist sights, and one so far off the beaten track we had to off-road through a river to get to it. On the way to see a geysir, we stopped at the side of the road and wild horses came up and made friends. With everyone except me... I have a phobia of horses from having been bitten by one when I was small. Nice from a distance though. The geysir was spectacular and we managed to stay the right side of it so we didn't get soaked by the spray. Then on to the Gullfoss waterfall. And then, if we weren't being outdoorsy enough - we'd spotted a glacier on the way to Gullfoss, so came up with the brilliant idea of seeing how close to it we could get. Which involved 8km or so on a dirt road, driving across a river (thank goodness for 4x4s!) and climbing a massive hill. But it was absolutely worth it.

Piles of rocks seem to be a big thing in Iceland, and I built one at the top of the hill overlooking the glacier.

We then took the coast road down to Grindavik - the cliffs and rocks were spectacular, if unremittingly grey! But it was a fantastic way to get to the Blue Lagoon, where we sat soaking in the bright blue water as the sun went down.

And now I've eaten, I'm back off out again...

I love New York...

2006-09-18T10:39:00.000+01:00

Sitting in the youth hostel in Reykjavik, and two days of New York to catch up on. Finally, on Saturday morning, the sun came out, and stayed out for the rest of the weekend. Having had two fairly miserable days of rain and greyness, New York suddenly took on a whole different character, and my opinion of the place completely changed. I went for a wander in Central Park. Like much of New York, because I've seen it so much on film and TV, it's odd to remember that I'd never actually been there before, however familiar the views are. Just wandering in the sun was incredibly peaceful, and the contrast between the enormous buildings and the trees was breath-taking.

Going to Ground Zero is an odd addition to the New York tourist trail, and I was honestly very wary of going to see it. In the end I found the experience hugely moving. There's an exhibition of photographs overlooking the big hole in the ground where the twin towers used to be, and they are just ordinary shots taken by ordinary people. One particularly struck me - it's a photo of a tourist's photos of the World Trade Center, taken over their shoulder in the back of a taxi. Obviously and tragically there was an enormous loss of human life on 9/11, but I found the absence of the buildings themselves strangely haunting. There's a massive and startling anomaly just across the road from the big hole outside Century 21, where a walking tour panel tells you all about the twin towers, and how 50,000 people a day come to work, and how as a visitor you can go to the top to see the best view of Manhattan... I don't know whether they meant to leave it there, or if someone just forgot to take it down.

I ended Saturday in true tourist style by taking the Staten Island Ferry. Literally there and back. I'm sure Staten Island is lovely, but I got as far as getting of the boat, walking round the building and getting back on again. The boat ride out was funny - I was among a whole load of tourists hanging over the side of the boat for a shot of the Statue of Liberty, only to find it completely obscured by the great big cruise liner that pulled up alongside us. Still, I got it on the way back. It sounds odd, because you can see on every map that Manhattan's surrounded by water, but it doesn't really feel like it until you are off it. Anyway, I walked back via Macy's, thought about buying jeans but couldn't find anything I really liked, paid homage at the Project Runway window, and headed back to the hotel with very sore feet!

As a New York day, Sunday was just about perfect. Went for brunch with Phil, Jonny, Ross and Carolyn on West End & 72nd Street, then jumped on the subway down to the Empire State Building. Amazingly, there were almost no queues. And it was just amazing. I was surprised at how incredibly quiet and peaceful it was at the top, with almost no wind at all. And I have to say honestly, that seeing the place from above completely changed my perspective on New York. I spent most of my first two days missing San Francisco really badly, and I wish now I'd gone straight to the top of the Empire State Building the moment I arrived in New York. The view from the top really made me fall in love with the city.

Afterwards, I met up with Jonny and Ross in Union Square (they'd been cycling in Central Park) and we went with Charlie, Christine and Lauren for frozen margueritas, fries and football. A perfect way to end being in the New York. They've promised to come to London soon, so I hope I'll see them all again.

And so, Reykjavik... At the airport this morning, standing in the queue to get local currency, I found myself thinking that I vaguely recognised the woman standing next to me. Just as she walked off I realised it was Bjork. Otherwise I would have asked her what all that petroleum jelly and whaling stuff was about...

Rent

2006-09-16T11:32:00.000+01:00

Life's all about connections... OK, it's a strange place to start, but it helps to weave together my last 36 hours. The Bowie Ball was such good fun. My phone had died so I left it on charge, but there are photos of me on Jonny and Phil's cameras of me with big, blue, heart-shaped shades, blue feather boa and mustard velvet jacket, with a big blue sparkly star on each cheek - I worked the glam rock look! One of the highlights of being a smoker (if there are any) in a city like New York is that you end up on the street talking to people like Stefan - an Icelander who's over from Rekjavik for Fashion Week, with whom I discussed Project Runway at great length - and Charlie, Christine and Lauren. After the club finished, we went back to Christine and Lauren's place in Alphabet City, and spent the rest of the night hanging out. And here's the next connection, because they live a couple of blocks from 11th, between B and C, which is the setting for...

Rent, which we saw last night on Broadway. Jonny, Ross and Carolyn had entered the lottery for front row tickets, and they came up trumps. I sat with my feet resting up against the stage, literally eyeball to eyeball with the actors. There's a moment in the second act, after Angel's funeral (I wept buckets), where the cast reprises Seasons of Love (525,600 minutes...) and the actor playing Roger stood looking down at me with tears pouring down his face, and I sat looking up at him with tears pouring down mine. So, so amazing. And while I know, with the La Boheme link, that the love story between Mimi and Roger is the central driver of the whole show, I love the love story between Angel and Collins. So you'll have to indulge me...

ANGEL
Live in my house, I'll be your shelter
Just pay me back,
With one thousand kisses
Be my lover - I'll cover you

COLLINS
Open your door, I'll be your tenant
Don't got much baggage, to lay at your feet
But sweet kisses I've got to spare
I'll be there and I'll cover you

BOTH
I think they meant it
When they said you can't buy love
Now I know you can rent it
A new lease you are my love,
On life - be my life
Just slip me on I'll be your blanket
Wherever - whatever - I'll be your coat

ANGEL
You'll be my king,
And I'll be your castle

COLLINS
No you'll be my queen,
And I'll be your moat

BOTH
I think they meant it
When they said you can't buy love
Now I know you can rent it
A new lease you are my love,
On life - all my life
I've longed to discover
Something as true as this is

COLLINS
So with a thousand sweet kisses
I'll cover you
With a thousand sweet kisses
I'll cover you
When you're worn
Out and tired
When your heart has expired

ANGEL
If you're cold and you're lonely
You've got one nickel only
With a thousand sweet kisses
I'll cover you
With a thousand sweet kisses
I'll cover you

BOTH
Oh lover I'll cover you, yeahhhhh
Oh lover I'll cover you

And finally, the last connection... much of the Rent movie was filmed in San Francisco!

Today, the sun's out in Manhattan, so I'm planning to walk across Central Park to the Met Museum, and then see where the day takes me.

I left my heart in San Francisco

2006-09-14T17:20:00.000+01:00

Sitting in Alt Coffee in the East Village on my first full day in New York - tracked down free wifi at last! It's overcast and occasionally raining here. And to think that two days ago...

I spent the day biking over the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito. We stopped off at the Palace of Fine Arts for some photos - it's strange that a place with no history felt the need to create an ancient Roman-style monument. Quite surreal, and less than a hundred years old. Must be a popular place for making out though if you're a San Francisco teenager - I'm not quite sure what else you'd do there.

Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge was amazing. I have endless photographs of the bridge and the views of San Francisco - as always there are far too many to choose from. Drew has video of me singing on the bridge too! The fog came and went, and the views were spectacular. Up close, you realise how much the bridge is a product of its age, with Art Deco patterned rivetting. It's not the biggest bridge in the world, but it is beautiful, and as ever, far more spectacular in real life than in photos.

So, we ended up in Sausalito, where we bumped into Lizzie, Jen and Jen, who we'd met on the Green Tortoise to Yosemite. We spent some time hanging out, eating the most amazing apple pie, and got the ferry back across the bay. A perfect end to sight seeing in San Francisco. It leaves Alcatraz and the Coit Tower for next summer...

My flight to New York was at 8am, and in the end I managed to get 0 hours sleep before! We decided it was only fair to celebrate my last night in San Francisco by going out, which involved my namesake cocktail (the Jaeger Jager) at my namesake bar (Andrew Jaeger's), a peepshow (hmm... yes... well, it was the girls' idea), Vietnamese food and staying up talking with Drew and Jen til I set out for the airport. Slept a bit on the plane, avoiding the terrible movie and then hung around JFK for almost four hours waiting for Jonny, Ross, Phil and Carolyn to get in from Rekjavik.

Having settled into our hotel, we wandered down to Times Square to be blinded by the neon and found a bar in Hell's Kitchen on the way back. Today's been fairly slow to be honest, pancakes and coffee, then just mooching round the thrift shops in the East Village, in preparation for the Bowie Ball at a club called Fat Baby later tonight. It's Ross' birthday, so we're celebrating in style. The dress code is glam rock... which for me so far stretches to a blue feather boa. Must try harder! I tried on a whole load of beautiful and dirt cheap fur coats, until I realised that I looked like my grandmother and freaked out. Everyone's wandered off in different directions right now, so I'll track people down when I've finished this.

Yosemite

2006-09-11T12:52:00.000+01:00

What an amazing weekend! Lots to catch up on, and I've got more photos than I know what to do with, so this is just a selection. One of the things about being in the middle of nowhere is that you can't charge your mobile phone or camera, so between us Drew and I got through five disposable cameras.

Having met Drew at San Francisco airport on Thursday night, on Friday night we set off for Yosemite National Park with Green Tortoise tours. I'll set the scene... Imagine a big bus, take out the seats and install a huge lounging area at the back and bunks suspended from the ceiling, then add eighteen 20- and 30-something travellers, sharing cooking at the side of the road or in campsites, sleeping on the bus, making fires, chilling, chatting and listening to Adrian the driver's interesting choices of music... Then take those people into the most spectacular scenery they've ever seen, climbing mountains and waterfalls, lounging by lakes and looking at the stars at night... And it all makes for a weekend that can only be described as awesome.

We started on Friday night from behind the bus terminal in San Francisco, and then drove overnight to Yosemite, waking up to breakfast in a clearing by a river. I remember the first word that came out of my mouth as I stepped off the bus that morning was "wow" - and it's one I repeated for most of the weekend. After breakfast, we drove down in Yosemite Valley, and from there Drew and I and three others went hiking up to the top of Nevada Falls. There's another set of falls half way up, and we stopped just above it on a large granite area where the river flows past to have lunch and lie in the sun. The hike all in all saw us climbing some 2,000ft and walking 8 miles in the most spectacular scenery I've ever seen. It's hard to describe in words the scale of Yosemite, and photos of the place just don't do it justice. I've been a huge fan of Ansel Adams' photography for as long as I can remember, but even his beautiful images pale into insignificance against the vast wilderness beauty of the place. Anyway, having hiked for what felt like hours, we jumped into the Merced River when we reached the bottom. Freezing but refreshing. Then back to the bus and driving to Toulumne Meadows campsite for the night, where I lit a fire (Lorna, my stepmum, who's been involved with the Scouts forever, would have been so proud!) Despite the warmth of the fire we slowly froze to death before climbing onto the bus to sleep.

Toulomne Meadows (Toulomne rhymes with Ptolemy, by the way - the n's silent) is Yosemite high country - we were sleeping at a higher altitude than we'd climbed to the previous day - and again I'd struggle to describe quite how amazing the place is. It's a vast natural alpine meadow ringing by mountains and pine forests. Drew and I were still suffering from the exertions of the day before, and decided to take an easier hike (ha ha... only 800ft to climb!) and lay by Dog Lake in the sun. It's the most peaceful place I've ever been. There was a moment, when the wind suddenly dropped and wasn't rustling through the pine trees, when the place was absolutely silent. No background noise, no distant rumble of traffic, nothing... I actually held my breath because it suddenly seemed so loud. After lunch we went skinny dipping (I've promised Drew the photos will never appear on this blog!) then walked back. Oh, and got our closest to a bear all weekend - fresh bear poo on the path!

Just when we thought we were done with Yosemite, we stopped on the way back to see a grove of Giant Sequoias. By mass, Sequoias are the largest single living things on the planet. Even from a distance, it took three photos to capture the whole of a tree top to bottom. We found one that had fallen, and was hollowed out, and it was an amazing (and incredibly dusty) experience to climb through the middle of a tree that had previously stood for some 4,000 years.

Being back in San Francisco, mellow as it is, is a bit of a shock to the system today - there are so many people and it's so noisy! We were eased back into civilisation fair gently though, by stopping off at a bar last night in a little town in the middle of nowhere, where we plundered the jukebox for anything that wasn't terrible country, drank way too much and danced hilariously until about 2 in the morning. Getting back into San Francisco this morning, hungover and sleep deprived, Drew and I chilled out at the Green Tortoise hostel for a while, and now we're doing our laundry in a place called BrainWash - a laundromat/bar/internet cafe in Soma. We're going out again tonight with some of the people we were on the bus with, after we've checked into our hotel, but I really need a bath first!

Ink

2006-09-07T14:02:00.001+01:00

Extraordinary day yesterday. The touristy bit, going to see the sealions at Pier 39, was fun - although when you are up close, sealions really stink. Imagine a mixture of body odour and fish. Yummy.

The other bit of my day was reason three for coming to San Francisco - getting a tattoo. It might seem a little extreme to fly across the world just to get someone to put ink under the surface of your skin, but there are only a few places in the world (most of them in the US) that do blacklight tattooing. It's invisible on the surface when it's healed, but then glows white under UV lights. I went to see Rob Merrell at Goldfield's Tattoo, and two hours and $200 later, I am the proud owner of what he described as a "kick ass tattoo". We went round the houses on design, and finally settled on the main stars of the constellation Orion in blacklight ink (you can see them as red lines in the photo - they'll look like that til they heal over some time in the next couple of weeks) around a beautiful ornate bow and arrow. I love it (which is a good job as I'll be living with it for the rest of my life!) and it was surprisingly OK to get done. Like being scratched by an overactive cat. Actually, by the end I was just exhausted and white as a sheet. So the photo was taken back at the Phoenix with me lying down on the bed - I was beyond standing at the end of yesterday.

Sadly, I checked out of the Phoenix this morning. My friend Drew arrives in San Francisco tonight, and we're booked into the Holiday Inn Golden Gateway, before heading off to Yosemite tomorrow night. I've loved my time alone in SF (being able to do what I want, when I want) but it'll be cool having someone else here to share it with.

Barney & the Beats

2006-09-05T19:52:00.000+01:00

An arty day in San Francisco today. I went to SFMOMA this afternoon (the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art) which I really enjoyed. It's not enormous by any means, but packs in so many amazing things into a relatively small (well, compared to the Tate Modern) space. It has the most astonishing gallery of design, including the ubiquitous Alessi kettle and toaster, some extraordinary work by Yves Klein, Robert Rauschenberg and Mark Rothko, and currently a special exhibition of Matthew Barney, also known as Mr Bjork. The Matthew Barney is really the most surreal way to spend an afternoon, especially as I also watched Drawing Restraint 9 in a cinema at the museum, surrounded by lots of very confused people and some falling asleep. The film is set on a Japanese whaling ship, and involves melting a petroleum jelly sculpture, a tea ceremony, and Barney and Bjork slowly carving each other with knives until they transform themselves in whales. I particularly liked Bjork's blowhole. Odd is not the word. The soundtrack is great though.

I then headed up to North Beach to find the City Lights Bookstore. This was really my second reason to come to San Francisco - the Beats. City Lights has been at the centre of literary revolution since it was founded, and this year is marking the 50th anniversary of Allen Ginsberg's Howl. I bought myself a copy and a couple of postcards, wandered round the corner to take a photo of Jack Kerouac street (sadly filled with diggers, but to be honest, the street sign is the most interesting thing about it) and found myself across the road. Literally. Finding myself so close to one of my favourite writers, and opposite one of the most famous bookstores in San Francisco, is a massive thrill!

Oh, by the way, yesterday I went to Haight-Ashbury. Big disappointment. Five words... Camden, fewer shops, more trees.

The Phoenix

2006-09-04T16:11:00.000+01:00

I've realised I haven't said a single thing about my hotel! It's not the best I've ever stayed in for amenities (it's basically just the rooms and a pool), but it is by far the coolest place I've ever spent any time. There's so much rock & roll myth making that goes on about this place, it's hard to see what's hype that visitors have told each other over the years against the reality. If another person tells me that this is U2's favourite hotel in San Francisco, I'm going to demand to see the guest book to check it out. Having said that, the myths about the place mean that it attracts a very cool and laidback clientele, and chatting over breakfast by the pool is always an interesting experience.

I heard a great story yesterday about the place. Apparently, a guest once had a friend to visit, who insisted on painting a portrait of him. The story goes that when it was completed, it was too large to take away, so it was donated to the hotel instead. I've yet to see it (I guess if the story is true it's hanging in someone else's room) but apparently it's made of feathers and a variety of bodily fluids... nice!

The Castro, Embarcadero and Nob Hill

2006-09-03T20:30:00.000+01:00

Two days to catch up on, and San Francisco turns out to be diverse and interesting than I could have imagined. It's more like a collection of villages, with the character of the place changing almost block by block.

I spent Saturday afternoon hanging around the Castro. I've never seen so many rainbow flags in my whole life! I decided against the pub crawl option, because I thought I'd fall over if I tried (well, I'm useless at drinking and I was still jetlagged), so I decided to go for a pampering instead. A new haircut, a shoulder massage and a manicure later and I was in a world of relaxation! One of the amazing things about the Castro (quite apart from the fact that straight couples holding hands in the street stand out like a sore thumb in the gayest part of San Francisco) is the beautiful architecture. Away from Castro Street, there are beautiful old houses everywhere. It's an incredibly comfortable place to be, and I'll be back again later this week.

Saturday night was peculiar! Tara recommended that I went to Deco, a bar across the road from the hotel, and it turned out to be piano night with Houston Allred, a 60-something pianist and singer. It was a bizarre mixture of piano karaoke (as people from the audience got up to sing... including me!), comedy spoofs of Somewhere Over The Rainbow and a vast number of showtunes. I actually really enjoyed it, but I'm not sure I'd go again (if that makes any sense). I met some British guys who live in San Francisco, and a really nice guy called Lynden, who was one of Houston's "visiting artistes" (as he likes to call people who get up to sing).

Today started really slowly. I wandered down to the Muni and hopped on a train to the Embarcadero. Being right by the water is so different from the Castro (which is a long way inland), with sun, palm trees and beautiful views. I had lunch at the Ferry Building, walked someway along the Embarcadero, past all the piers, and jumped on a streetcar on the F line to take me to Fisherman's Wharf. The F line is made up of historic trams from all over the world, and every one seems to be different - the one I was on was Italian, with the original signs and beautifully cared-for wood. Fisherman's Wharf is just bizarre. It's probably the most touristy part of San Francisco, and it shows. Souvenir shops, overpriced restaurants, huge crowds milling around... but fantastic views of Alcatraz.

And then, finally, I got to Nob Hill. Hill is an understatement. On the map, SF looks deceptively flat. In reality, I have never seen such steep streets in my entire life. I walked a bit from Fisherman's Wharf, and then quickly realised the hills were going to defeat me, so I found a bus and a cable car instead. At what feels like the top of Nob Hill is Grace Cathedral. I can't remember when I first heard of Grace Cathedral, but it was one of the reasons I wanted to come to SF. I arrived just after the evening service had started, and took a quick look inside at the amazing stained glass, and then walked the outdoor labyrinth. It based on the labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral in France, and it's a huge circle with a winding path to the centre. Walking it in and back is the most amazingly calming and yet frustrating experience. Although it has only one path, so you know you'll reach the centre eventually, it takes so many twists and turns that it is easy to feel lost. They say the labyrinth is a reflection of the journey through life, and it makes a lot of sense. When you feel furthest from where you should be, you're actually closer that you realise. That's my not terribly deep thought for the day!

Back at the hotel now, and there's a party going on downstairs around the pool. Honestly though, I'm knackered - I'll go down for the barbeque in a bit.

Union Square

2006-09-02T12:46:00.000+01:00

The joys of free WiFi! Decided to bring my macbook out with me for the day, as I'd heard there was free WiFi in Union Square. And there is. Yay! Union Square is hosting an outdoor art exhibition later. I suppose it's SF's equivalent of Trafalgar or Leicester Square, but it's so much nicer. Open air cafes, great shops (I'm sitting looking at Macy's right now) and what looks like a jazz band about to start up on the stage next to me. I'll mooch around here for a bit, then off to Castro this afternoon.

Friday night & Saturday morning

2006-09-02T10:53:00.000+01:00

It's the beginning of my first proper day here - jet lag's still killing, but I slept well. Woke up to a cold and overcast SF this morning. It's definitely warmer in London that it is here. Still, coffee and muffins by the pool is a great way to start the day.

Went to the Bambuddha Lounge last night, the restaurant/bar/club thing attached to the hotel, and had a great time. It's always nerve wracking travelling on your own, because you think you could end up sitting by yourself all evening, but I met a load of really cool people. Lauretta and Mo, who are here from Los Angeles for the Labor Day Weekend; Rickard from Sweden, who's taking some time out in San Francisco having been working in Ohio last week, and who's offered for me to tag along on some day trips next week as he has a car and needs someone to navigate; and a couple (who's name I can't remember at all) who are getting married this afternoon under Golden Gate Bridge, and asked me if I wanted to go - always a little embarrassing to turn up at a wedding and not remember the bride's name though! And of course Tara, who works behind the bar. She's from Portland, Oregon, but moved to SF 3 years ago to do her masters in fine art. She specialises in work inspired by Persian miniatures (she's part Iranian) and has a letter from the British Library inviting her to go and look through their collection. She's promised to take me out with the bar staff when they get off their shift tonight, so hopefully I can twist her arm into coming to London sometime.

A little more exploring today, but not the local area! The hotel's in a part of SF called the Tenderloin, and it is the roughest neighbourhood I've ever seen in my life. The walk down Eddy towards Market Street (the main shopping street through the centre of SF) only takes 10 minutes, but it means negotiating endless homeless people with their whole lives in shopping trolleys. It's extraordinary that so many people should congregate here - it must be a cold and hard place to be homeless, and the toughness of life shows on people's faces. It's one of those areas where every second shop front seems to be for a community organisation, but I wonder if it scratches the surface of the problem. Compared to London (and especially Westminster, which does all it can to take people off the streets, or at least hide the problem) homelessness here seems to be a real and terrible issue. And it's certainly not an area you'd feel safe at night - I think taking Larkin down to the Civic Centre and getting transport from there, even though it's the longer way round, is going to be the safest option.

Big decision today about whether I go to the wedding or not! I'll let you know later.

My bodyclock's broken

2006-09-01T16:17:00.000+01:00

Well, I've finally got to San Francisco, and I'm sitting in my hotel room having unpacked. I've also realised I've forgotten to bring any toothpaste with me, so I need to go out shopping soon. Ah shame... still, go reason to explore the local area.

Yeah, so, broken bodyclock. I set out from home at 6.30 this morning, and now (UK time) it's the early hours of Saturday morning - except it's 4.15 on Friday afternoon here in SF. So I get a very long Friday today. The flight over was strange was well - being a day flight, and staying in day light the whole time, there was no obvious time to sleep. I managed a couple of hours of napping, so I feel slightly like I'm doing Friday twice. It's just too confusing. I'm hoping it'll all work out soon!

Anyhow, first impressions of San Francisco - it's much quieter than I expected! Wide roads, bright sunshine (for now), a constant breeze and the most amazing scenery around the city. As we flew in, I could see tree covered mountains for miles and miles. And deep blue sea, just incredible.

So, I'm off to explore and see what I make of this place.

Flowers in my hair

2006-08-29T20:26:00.000+01:00

The countdown to my holidays has definitely started. I'll be on a plane to San Francisco (well, if my piercings don't set off the security alarms!) on Friday morning. Blogging's the new postcard, so I'll be updating this with photos and stuff while I'm away.

I'm in San Francisco for 7 nights, then off on the Green Tortoise bus to Yosemite for 3 nights, with my friend Drew who's flying over and starting his American grand tour. Two more nights in SF, the heading to New York for 5 days. And then Rekjavik on the way home. After all that, I'll need a holiday!

I'm staying in the Phoenix Hotel in SF, which is a converted 50s motel with rooms around a heated outdoor pool. It's also got a nightclub attached and is apparently one of the best places to celebrity spot. And the Red Hot Chili Peppers have stayed there. I might get to sleep in the same bed as Anthony Kiedis... although probably not at the same time (well, I can dream can't I?)

Just beautiful

2006-08-25T16:55:00.000+01:00

I went to see Beautiful Thing, Jonathan Harvey's play about love on a south east London housing estate, at the Sound Theatre last night. I loved the movie that was made of the play, and remember crying my eyes out at the sight of Jamie and Ste dancing at the end of the film. The theatre version was just as amazing, and in the intimacy of the theatre, the performances were powerful and moving.

It's on til 9 September, and if you haven't seen it at all, or have just seen the film. It's definitely worth seeing. Jonathan Bailey (Jamie) and Gavin Brocker (Ste) are both excellent, and really capture the nervousness and awkwardness of first love. The rest of the cast is excellent too. If there's any fault in the production, it starts a little too slowly, but it makes Jamie and Ste's love, when it emerges, real and grounded. Just excellent.

Snow white and penguins

2006-08-24T14:22:00.000+01:00

I went to see the Pierre Huyghe exhition yesterday afternoon with my friend Rehan. It was the third time I've seen it, and I have to say it still doesn't make any sense to me at all. There are bits of it I like. This, for example, is the women who played the voice of Snow White, and you can watch her in a large room surrounded by white neon signs, forming sentences like "I do not own modern times", while the soundtrack of the Disney movie plays quietly in the background and two enormous white doors spin slowly round the room.

Elsewhere a couple of installations draw Huyghe's encounters with an albino penguin in the Antarctic. The penguin's sweet, but the video is strange, and the animated penguin model (well, I think it flaps its wings, but that might have been a trick of the light) is... well... interesting.

All in all, it's odd. There was a review in Time Out yesterday that said the exhibition was difficult to read because there were too many layers of meaning. I'm not sure whether this is just a case of the emperor's new clothes. It might be that the artist has serious intent, and the "layers of meaning" are entirely deliberate. It may however be the case that critics are attempting to read in meaning that simply isn't there, and the whole thing is actually the incoherent ramblings of an artist who has enough support to commandeer a major exhibition space and fill it with nonsense.

I'm genuinely undecided. The exhibition's running til 17 September, so I may not get to see it again to make up my mind. All I would say is that if I had actually paid for my ticket (I get in free as a Tate member) I would have been hugely disappointed.

Not so Marvel-ous

2006-08-21T19:10:00.001+01:00

A friend of mine (thank you Sarah) sent me a link about Marvel comics and their stance on homosexual characters. It's not that Marvel don't have gay characters (they do and it's a good thing) but they insist that those comics that do have gay characters should carry a warning on the front cover. Apparently they came under pressure from a "family values" organisation.

Marvel have apologised for doing this. Quite frankly that doesn't wash with me. As someone once said to me, there's little point in apologising if you don't change your behaviour. Otherwise your apology is meaningless. As long as companies like Marvel don't stand up for the things they believe in, there won't be real equality in the world.

I've always like Marvel comics, and there's much in the Marvel characters that is appealling to gay people - Spider-Man's struggle for self-acceptance, the X-Men's difference from the rest of society, and most recently, the relationship between Hulkling and Wiccan in the Young Avengers. Marvel have gay characters, it's just a shame that some young people, for whom comics might be the only access they have to positive gay role models, will not get to read these stories because a warning on the cover.

Up on the roof

2006-08-17T17:53:00.000+01:00

I'd never been to Soho House before last night, and to be honest, I think I'd walked past it endless times and not actually realised it was there. Anyway, despite a seriously dodgy tummy (eek) I decided not to pass up the opportunity to network at a Jake event. Well, I say "network"... ho hum.

Anyway, the roof garden turns out to be a fairly small decked area, with extensive views of lots of other roof tops, and what has to be the smallest bar in the world. At one point, there were so many people queuing to buy drinks, it was actually impossible to tell where the queue ended and the crowd began. So all in all, the venue's a bit of a disappointment. For somewhere with such a good reputation, it turned out to be just a little lacklustre. That said, I met some really friendly people and had fun, so I'm not honestly going to complain about the surroundings that much!

Now, if I can work out a way to sneak into Soho House when I'm in New York, they've got a roof top pool. I bet the London people are so jealous!

My "office"

2006-08-15T14:35:00.000+01:00

As I don't currently have an internet connection at home (it always helps to pay the bill) I've been tracking down free wireless access in Clapham. My friend Drew recommended The Belle Vue, and I've adopted it as my "office". It has free wireless from 11 til 5, in return for buying the occasional latte or drink. So far, I've avoided the temptation of getting a pint... I know how sleepy I get in the afternoons if I drink, and I've found that staying awake is a great thing in life.

Anyway, I'm not alone in spending my afternoons here on my laptop. People seem to gravitate to the same tables each afternoon, so if you're not here by 1, finding somewhere to sit that's close to a plug socket is tricky. And we have celebrities too. The guy who plays the grandson in Catherine Tate was here earlier. I tell you, it's exciting in Clapham!

You also get great views of the bottom of Clapham High Street, which is handy for people watching when you're bored. I really can't recommend the place highly enough. Or maybe I shouldn't. I really wouldn't want it to get busier!

Job hunting

2006-08-14T17:17:00.000+01:00

Looking for a job in August is an odd experience. I think it's that everyone in the world is on holiday, apart from those of us who are currently "between jobs"*. Job ads are ridiculously thin on the ground, and the delays between closing dates and interviews get even longer than usual. I've been on the other end of the process, when recruiting for vacancies, so I know how it works...

"So, we'll put the closing date as 29 July?"
"Sounds good, when are you free to shortlist?"
"Well, I'm on holiday for two weeks..."
"And I'm on holiday for the two weeks after that..."
"So are you free to shortlist in September?"
"Maybe..."

I mean really, why bother? Maybe there should just be a job hunting moratorium in August. It would be a little inconvenient for job hunters, but it would save a great deal of hanging around.

On the upside though, it's not long til September, when traditionally the papers are full of job ads. This too is completely understandable. I guess it's prompted by all those harried postholders who take a few weeks out to sun themselves on a beach somewhere and think, you know what, I really don't like my job after all. I'm going to give it all up, move back here and become an olive farmer... or something...

* Although the word "between" normally suggests an item is bracketed by things before and after, the after of "between jobs" is purely theoretical. As such, "between jobs" is a euphemism. Like "resting", "taking some time out", "travelling", etc...

Cars

2006-08-09T18:50:00.000+01:00

I love movies for kids. They are often so much more emotionally engaging than movies for adults, and if I am going to watch something for pure entertainment, I'd much rather spend my money being entertained by talking fish than watching someone stick a knife into a backpacker's spine (Wolf Creek still gives me nightmares).

So, I'm normally a big fan of Pixar. Which is what made Cars such a huge disappointment. It wasn't the basic plot (which is OK) or the animation (which frankly is as stunning as ever) that disappointed me, but the worldview behind the movie. I sat through the whole thing, and rather than being entertained, I was genuinely shocked, because there was one glaring omission from the animation. Where was the pollution?

I used to have a car of my own, which I sold because frankly it's ridiculous to have one when you live in London and the public transport is so good. But I'm not absolutely anti-car. Cars can be incredibly useful for getting to the places public transport can't take me, so every now and again I'll hire one. But since not having a car, I've thought more deeply about my reliance on a mode of transport that drains the world's limited supplies of oil, adds to global warming, and produces pollution that has been linked to the increase in asthma in children. If the world saw the use of cars as an occasional necessary evil, rather than seeing car ownership as not only a necessity and a right, we might be able to take life rather more slowly. Which I gathered was the point of the movie.

Losing my blogging virginity

2006-08-09T17:29:00.000+01:00

Well, this is my first ever posting on my blog. I'm going to use this blog to share stuff from my travels, things I like and stuff about my work. Who knows? I guess everyone was jumping on the blogging bandwagon, and I was feeling a little left behind. So I've got some catching up to do!