Saying Goodbye

Yesterday i finished work and said goodbye to my colleagues. I don't like hugs or emotional outbursts (except for teenage ones, like 'i hate you all, goodbye!' said as storming through a doorway and slamming it as punctuation (note to self this is unacceptable as a 'goodbye' to adults i know) but as i walked away from work i realised that the folk there aren't so much colleagues or people who tolerate me and my incessant chatter about Jordan, but possibly, actually, really, friends. I will miss Junior, Rowl and N-Man a lot. Its a shame to leave a job with a good team, as really its the people that make the job isn't it. That's why i left my minimum wage job at McDonalds, people just weren't getting me!

I also went to church for the last time the day before, and they were talking about missing me and XSS too. Its weird being the one going away as in many ways i want to implore people to not go, but its me going, and people are making it sad. Its unspoken, but no-one believes that life will be the same when we get back. There is a distinct feeling of mourning, for all that is good in our lives. Not to put a downer on things, but i guess times change, other people will move on, and it will not be the same as now, not worse, just different (that's what people say when really they mean worse).

As i sat on the bus inching away from Peckham past the numerous houses i have been in, and got to know very well. I feel like i am walking away from the responsibility that i have taken on during my time there. I often feel i have to stop ALL the kids stabbing each other and to help each vulnerable unfulfilled one i see. I know a lot of people don't think it is their responsibility to help sort out these kids, it is not popular to suggest that adults interrupt kids with knives fighting, and we can all blame the demise of society for hurting our kids. But as i step away i am renewed with the belief that the primary people who should be working on these issues are the parents of the ones hurt OR hurting (everyone seems to ask why the police don't stop it instead of looking to themselves).Why doesn't every adult who knows a kid take on responsibility for them? It'd only be a few each rather than expecting the police, schools and social services to be responsible for them all once they've reached a threshold of 'mucked-up-ness

Really though, in a very selfish way, i am hoping that by going away i can leave behind the emotional burden of this, and enjoy another countries youth: I bet the luggage will be waiting for me when i get back, but that's ok.

I'm looking forward to going, but also very nervous. Its hard for me to decide quite what i am worried about but here is what i can deduce:

- Will i be too hot?

- Will the toilets be ok for a number 2?

- Will i get bored?

That's it! Humans are so stupid.

Work Reflections:

Since i will soon be leaving my job, I've been thinking back over the highlights of my time with the team. Following are my top 5 days:

1) The day we had an oil sick and our lives were put in minor peril.

I seem to have a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and consistently throughout my time i am ALWAYS up to something stupid when the head of our building walks into our room. On this occasion Rowl had knocked a bottle of olive oil on the floor in between our desks, which also doubles as the only way to access the other desks on the other side of the room (this is why giving us lunch rooms would actually be a good idea). We both looked at it glugging onto the carpet for a while before deciding to try and mope it with a paper towel. Little success, and by this stage Junior had wandered over. We then decided to wash it with soapy water, this now seems like a stupid idea, but I'm sure some sort of logic took place at the time. So Junior got down to wash it with a little bowl and cloth, and VT our managers manager wandered across. He helpfully observed the situation also whilst i made a sign to put on the floor near by (as it had become very slippery) stating that people needed to be careful as there was a risk of minor peril ahead. I then rejoined the observers and the big head manager unnoticed slipped in also. Once we had got over our positive encouragement and criticism of Juniors efforts we notice him and someone remarked how accurate this was of a council situation, one person working with 4 looking on and criticising and managing them!

2) The day when 9/11 almost happened again.

The quality of our equipment at work is questionable and whenever the fire alarm goes off you are dubious at best. I for one enjoy fire alarms as i have not grown up and come from the school of thought that if you hear a fire alarm you should shout/scream joyously, be very noisy, and run out the building in as silly a manner as possible, only after collecting anything you want to take with you and hitting save on your computer. On this particular day several people adopted my philosophies'; especially as the fire alarm would be fixed only for us to have to leave the building again ten minutes later. On the third time of this happening as we were slowly packing up and considering leaving the office for another jaunt outside, a colleague in all earnestness declared, 'Come on people! this is how 9/11 happened!'. This caused us great merriment to imagine that 9/11 could occur again in Peckham in a crappy 3 story social services office where people cannot be bothered to leave the office quickly on a fake fire alarm. I'm not sure many people died in 9/11 because they saw the planes crash into their office but stopped to press save on CareAssess before leaving.

3) The day we developed the box game and were caught on the brand new CCTV camera

New CCTV camera's were installed in the meeting rooms and we were given one of these rooms as an office for several days temporarily. Along with this temporary move, we had no computer access and so work was limited. We developed an awesome game where we hid something in the empty 30 boxes lying around the room and then time someone to find it. We played this game in as noisy and violent a manner as possible, forgetting all the while that these CCTV camera were hooked up. Once we realised we were being spied on we thought the easiest solution was to block the camera as there was no reason for them to be on us (there was no risk of client attack). We then (Junior- it is always Junior who leads me astray) thought we could remedy this by sticking a piece of paper over the camera, which we promptly did and thought nothing more of it. In typical council fashion however, they noticed and without coming to check they called in an engineer to fix it. Imagine our embarrassment when he came in, removed the piece of paper and charged the company a huge call out fee. They never did find out this was us.

4) The day N-Man's draws were reversed.

To deal with the boredom of our office sometimes little pranks get played along a theme and these escalate more and more until we get too busy to be creative, or think independently and have to return to the monotony of record making. On this occasion a theme of altering each others person draws below our desks was picked and several items moved around, draws swapped with other people or even made to look as if they had been emptied. The height of this enjoyment was when we turned around N-man's draws and drew on some lines and blue tacked on her key so it looked like to was the right way around. It was very funny when she spent a while trying to open her draws and then looked around embarrassed as she realised.

5) The day StaceyG told me i was boring.

I work with teenagers, and every now and again i like to think I'm good at it and that i really know how to understand them and get on their level. And then people like Stacey come along and put me straight. Once during, what i thought was a great session about feelings and dealing with emotions, Stacey stopped me mid activity AND sentence and innocently asked, 'Are we nearly finished yet? I'm bored'. Well i was stunned, and promptly wrapped up the session amid stuttering and stammering and embarrassment. That'll teach me for thinking I'm cool.

The Jading Process....

Tx wrote a poignant blog today, basically about becoming jaded at life, and knowing that you are becoming jaded and trying to resist it. I guess her saving grace is that she knows it. I cant tell if I've given up already or not. When i think about going to live abroad as a possibility i love it because it means escaping from all the things i cant fix here (like the kids stabbing each other and not realising what awesome individuals they are). But i get so pissed off with all these educated individuals who want to change the world, but try to do this by organising groups of like minded individuals to spend all their time with and reconfirm with each other over and over again how Capitalism doesn't work.

ARGH. We all know there are problems, but you cant just make up an alternative and go there, you cant avoid mixing with people who are difficult or disagree, you need to work within the failing system, dirty your hands, and get in elbow deep to alter the bits that don't work.

Sometimes i wish i were one of those people, like the white communities of 'artists' beautifully dressed with 'alternative' tattoos and hairstyles loving life and living in Peckham. If you surround yourself in nicety's that's all your going to see. But what about all those kids wandering past their front gates, the ones that cant afford a new school uniform, share a single bed with another teenage sibling and are destined to remain ignored and undiscovered? Do they look out of the window and feel bad that they spent so much on that extra special luminous, sparkly paint for the papermache clothes horse they made?

Well unlike Tx, i am self indulgent, and i choose to blame other people not my perfect self. Man, sometimes working with 'underprivileged' teenagers wrongly empowers you to think you can blame others. I spend so much money on crap, and help so few teenagers in Peckham. Maybe i should just give up, i could do with a new structure on which to hang my washing.

P.S On a lighter note the £20 is Juniors. He gave it to me (us girls?) to get a taxi home. Now that sounds like a sensible idea doesn't it!

Vinopolis for money

Counselling session no 3: Better than the last, my therapist asks the greatest questions. Its those simple ones, that really get you thinking. Why do you want to change things? Often for me its because in films everyone seems to have these perfect lives, and i just cant get it though my educated, but obviously thick head, that THEY ARE NOT REAL. people don't have these wonderful relationships, life isn't full of one happy experience after another accompanied by an uplifting tune, shopping can never be fun, and you cant convince an FBI agent not to arrest you for multiple murders so that you can catch the ultimate wave in the 50 year storm.

I went out drinking with Rowl, Junior and the Lawwoman after work on Friday. I can tell it definitely didn't go well as i found a £20 note tucked halfway up Dave our tree like pot plant in our lounge 2 days later and had no idea how it got there? or who's it is?

I didn't intend to drink a lot, and always think that its important to be lucid enough to explain my faith to anyone, no matter when they ask. I'm not convinced that i managed to maintain that on Friday as i couldn't remember where i had left my bike, and had to get Junior to unlock it for me. All in all it was a great night. The highlight/lowlight was finding an open wine tasting session (you don't ask questions after a few pints- but now i want to know why on earth a wine tasting was on late on a Friday night, and why on earth they didn't ask us to leave!?)

So anyways after trying a lot of different wines, no spitting involved. Junior bought two bottles, but in order to ensure he got value for money, us women folk took it upon ourselves to drink as much as possible to make the purchase all the more worthwhile. We were rumbled when they came across us all with full to the bring glasses, delicately, gluging the wine. However after telling us that they didn't believe that a colleague of theirs had poured such volume of wine, and we apologised, promised in unison that we would not do it again, and pointed out our friend buying something, they left us to it. I'm not sure why we left there, i guess we got bored of wine.

In the end, i promised not to cycle home, and then did so as fast as possible. My flatmate always says, if you're gonna cycle drunk, might as well do it as fast as possible. In defence, i luckily didn't die, and i really needed a wee!

'Bodhi: If you want the ultimate, you've got to be willing to pay the ultimate price. It's not tragic to die doing what you love.' - i don't love drinking, or drunk cycling!

Tx You Are My Star....

Tx may be in Uganda but i can feel her warmth from here. I miss her everyday, because there's no-one like her, and when we talk its like starting in the middle of a conversation, no preamble, and always knowing exactly whats going whilst replying with the appropriate tone and question line. I just spoke with her now, and even though our lives are so bizarrely different, she is struggling to make her limited budget at work stretch to digging more wells than humanly possible and improving hygiene practices whilst living in a terribly rural environment with few home comforts, she is still happy, yes HAPPY, to hear me moan about my comfy life here.

If you haven't met Tx imagine sesame streets Zoe on speed. She always has a million things on the go at any one moment, to her no doesn't mean 'NO', it means 'find another way to do it'. She's a restless soul who wont stop until world peace is established; her powerful, dynamic and calm persona offsets her overwhelming desire to remain a 3 year old girl who celebrates every new day by pouring her heart unguarded into everything, often resulting in fabulous victories or tears. She'll never sit still long enough to write a book, she dances when she's happy, challenges me to be a better person, and dresses like no one style is good enough for her.

Most importantly she cooks me homous, jacket potato and macaroni cheese. When she was in London if Xss couldn't cook for me, then she would.

On a roll, here is another sesame street resident to illustrate my friends:

Elmo: XSS. Genuine, honest, and inquisitive. Asks no end of questions but most importantly, loving.

Ernie: Junior. Even emotioned, really genuine and so kind. Has great perception on situations even if he doesn't let on.

Bert: Impy. Ultimately always on a downer and pessimistic about life and any situation he finds himself in, but has a good heart buried beneath it all and secretly like to try hard.

Super Grover: Rowl.

Throws herself whole heartedly into so many different projects all at the same time and really enjoys it. However occasionally finds herself out of her depth and has to bail. Constantly fighting to be brave and courageous despite accurately describing herself as 'highly anxious'.

Big Bird: True.

Central to every episode of life. Can do everything well, says stuff like, "I guess it's better to be who you are. Turns out people like you best that way, anyway" to me constantly to inspire me to continue striving to be myself

Telly: ME.

Obsessed with TV, worries about everything and is obsessed with random things, and random people constantly jumping from one thing to the next.

Fond memories....

I remembered the other day a time at Christmas when Xss and Leo were playing. Leo called Xss 'girl pants!' when they were mock fighting ( think this version was Batman verses The Monster- Xss played the monster role with genuine feeling and integrity (dedicating it 'to monsters everywhere')). Xss, being the bigger man (or Monster), ignored this petulant comment and continued play hitting the child. However, five minutes later Leo had run away and hidden half behind the settee - and Xss in exasperation at the effort now required of him to get up off the floor and clamber over the settee to continue the fight, retorted to Batman's half visable form, 'girl pants'! Which to both of our utter bemusement, caused Leo's whole little face to drop, his broad smile disappear and he burst into spontaneous, heavy rainfall, tears. haha. Oh it was so funny. I did try and explain the 'don't dish up what you cant deal with' rule later to him, but to limited effect.



On a brighter note, i guess Xss and I now both now know what the ultimate insult to a four year old is. Why don't you try it on your own one?

P.S Since i have told this story to Junior he now calls me 'Girl pants' at work when he most wants to insult me! i dont cry (but inside i want to)