November 28, 2007

James, the Mac and Cheese Mouse

A few days ago, I had a rare London moment: eye contact and a smile from a stranger on the underground. *Gasp*
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It was at Euston Station, walking toward the stairs that led up from the platform. A woman and I were walking side by side, each in our own “can't-wait-to-get-home-from-work” mindset when all of a sudden, a furry body scurried in front of us, stopping us dead in our tracks. Hence the look and smile before continuing up the stairs.
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The mouse wasn't rare, of course. They sniff and scuttle along the rails all day and night. From afar they're sort of cute. In fact, it came to our attention that we even have one in our house. This is fine when we hear him squeaking from invisible mouse-sized crevices in the kitchen walls. We even gave him a name: James. But last night, James came into sight for the first time and that was not okay. James should stay hidden if he's going to live with us. That was our unspoken agreement.
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C told me about a shop called The Rosslyn Delicatessen on Roslyn Hill in Hampstead just a short walk from where I work. They stock all sorts of American food and have been voted Best Deli the past three years in a row. Bonus: They're located practically across the street from the award-winning and delicious Hampstead Creperie.
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Anyway, I bought some graham cracker pie crust, Kraft mac & cheese, authentic Buffalo wing sauce, some A&W vanilla cream soda, and some Aunt Jemima's pancake mix. When I got home, I left the mac & cheese on the counter intending to make it when S came back from the gym.
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Back to James.
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It was, oh, around 10pm when I decided it would be a good time to start cooking. I walked in the kitchen and James emerged from a corner of the counter sniffing at the air, little paws held up like he was praying...and ran straight across the stove and dove in a gap between it and the counter on the other side. I froze and walked slowly backwards into my room and shut the door behind me.
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James has crossed the line.
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In fact, yesterday was not a good day for being home. Not just because of James and his sneaky appearances on the kitchen counter, but because the heating broke and we all sat around frigid in Arctic conditions with bundles of clothes and blankets. Not exactly conducive to doing much of anything but curling up with a good book, which is exactly what I did.
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But first, I had to make a cup of tea. I walked into the kitchen wearing two hoodies. One of them had fur around the hood, which I was wearing because it was That Cold. It earned me a new nickname from H. I am now The Stephskimo. Cute.
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Here's hoping the heating is fixed tonight and James is tucked safely away in a little crevice and doesn't decide to make any surprise appearances.
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In other news, I have been invited to participate in a week long work experience under Eleanor Mills, the News Review editor at the Sunday Times.

November 16, 2007

A Website, A Job, and An Opportunity

Since I've last written, quite a bit has happened. It started when I found out the gallery is closing. Turns out, this is great because I need something more challenging and stimulating anyway. Perfect motivator.

First I got S to teach me how to build a website using just HTML and Notepad. I know there are programs like Dreamweaver and FrontPage, but I like to know how things work and it turns out it's not so difficult. I spent the next few days creating a website that employers can use to see some of my clips and my CV. If you care to see, it's live now at http://www.abowlofcherries.co.uk/.

I also tossed my CV up on Gumtree, which turned out to be a great move. First, I found out that Marc, the editor of Seven Magazine is looking for some help. I wrote about Seven a while back and Marc found the entry and left me a comment. Since then, we've been in touch on and off through email.

Well, I met with him a few days ago and he offered me a position as Sub-Editor for the magazine, something I can do from home on nights and weekends. I love this because Seven is something I really believe in. It's a magazine/website that looks seriously at issues on all seven continents (hence the name) and also at the culture, arts, fashion, music aspect of countries around the world.

If you know me, you know this is right up my alley.

Then I got a message from another man called Sean. We met for about 2.5 hours this morning.

He is from Ireland, has family in England and lives in Slovakia for work. He works for a blind charity in Britain. He had a friend, Brian Faul, who died of cancer who was also seriously involved with the blind charity. Apparently, this man gave up all of his appointments but the ones he had with them.

And so Sean wanted to do something in his memory. The Brian Faul Foundation is what resulted. It is almost ready to be “launched”, so to speak. As in everything is in place, it just needs to be finalized, which will happen in in the next few months.

Last week, he was browsing Gumtree and found my resume. He said he read it and then had to go make a coffee and come back and read it again. He was amused by the fact that I was American and interested in all this international stuff. What struck him were my projects – Jammin' for Jamaica and my new Traveling Mag Project, funny enough. Then he read this blog. He had asked me to send him the last entry so he could use for his English classes he teaches in Slovakia.

He works with street kids in the Ukraine among other less fortunate people in other places all over the world. What he wants this charity to do is to give people a chance who wouldn't have otherwise been given one. And he wants to do it by letting people use their talents/creativity to raise money for these projects that will benefit them.

His idea for me is to be a project manager/co-ordinator. I would come up with ideas like the Traveling Mag Project and Jammin' for Jamaica (which you can read about on my website if you're interested), ways to reach out to groups of people around the world, to connect them so they can better understand each other and to give them opportunities. I would set up and manage projects around the world, promote them, travel to the countries where they are occurring on occasion to check things out. There would be basic admin as well as I would be the link to Britain for the charity so I would answer a phone and deal with queries.

He said when he heard my ideas about the Traveling Mag Project, he asked if I would be willing to start similar projects in these different countries and he could then publish those under the name of the charity. He was very keen on the idea of asking the street kids he works with in the Ukraine to draw or write poetry in a book and then publish it and sell it and use the money to build them a shelter because, sadly, they live inhumanely in the sewers under the streets. I love that idea of redoing my project for something like that.

He couldn't offer me an official position yet until he speaks to the trustees, but he said he wants to go back to them with some ideas from me. I have a million ideas. If the trustees approve and want to meet me, I will have another inteview with one of them.

If they don't offer me a job, Sean said there's still opportunity to freelance for the Foundation.

I've also had a few emails in the past few days from different companies asking what my freelance rates are for writing marketing articles.

Now that my website is up, I'm going to use it in my applications so it will be much easier and I'm going to apply to lots more places, but I'm hoping this international projects one follows though because I think it would be awesome. And creative and stimulating and rewarding, etc.

November 06, 2007

Guy Fawkes at Roundwood Park

Fireworks on the Fourth of July meant sitting on blankets with family by the railway tracks, munching on pretzels and chips while the sky darkened and the excitement built up to the colourful explosions over the Niagara River. As I grew up, I saw them in bigger cities like Santa Barbara, CA, or Buffalo and Rochester, NY with friends. I didn't expect the local Guy Fawkes Day celebration in Willesden, London, to be much different, but it was.

For one thing, it's obviously November and not July, which meant being bundled up in winter coats, scarves, gloves, the works. Another thing was the dancing and the amusement rides, and the last thing was the violence.

I didn't realize Roundwood Park existed or that it was a five minute walk from my house. There were manicured flower beds, green grass and trees, a fish pond with a willow tree and a hill with a view of Wembley Stadium that would be a gorgeous place to watch the sun set.

As we approached the park, people were selling sparklers, flashing bunny ears, glo-sticks, light sabres, burgers, and everything that makes a regular fairground. There were rides, mainly for kids, strobe lights, haunted houses and people everywhere.

We found a nice spot near a cotton candy vendor and watched the sparks light up the sky. Most of the fireworks were white or red, a few were purple. My favorite ones were gold. They shot up with a bang and exploded in long streams of gold glitter. The very end of the grand finale consisted of only these. They filled the whole sky over a grey background of smoke and it looked like the sky was raining gold streams of glitter on the crowd. Everyone cheered. The air smelled of gun powder and cotton candy.

St and R were at the other side of the park. As we approached the hill, all we could hear was hip hop blaring out of speakers like it was an outdoor club. People were dancing, even the security guards were into it. R and St were sharing a thermos of mulled wine and we stood around talking for a while.

All of a sudden, we heard a bang in the crowd and people screaming and then a rush of 100 teenagers running down the hill. Then another bang and more people running and screaming. An ambulance put its lights on, the security guards disappeared, the music stopped. We stood there watching and heard a third bang, followed by more running and screaming. S and I decided it was time to go. We hadn't eaten yet and it was getting really cold on the top of the hill so we said goodbye and walked back toward the kiddie rides wondering what the hell was going on.

All of a sudden, we heard a whistle right above our heads. S instinctively shielded my body with his and we turned around to see a firework explode into the ground about four feet away from us.

I couldn't believe that people could be so immature to throw fireworks into crowds, and especially crowds full of little kids. I just don't understand what goes through people's minds when they do those things.