People-&-Social

Hanging with the young adults at church #Banter

Not the Charles Dickens book but the state of Aberdeen, the (self-proclaimed?) oil capital of Europe.. The biggest news, from a personal perspective this week, was probably the additional job cuts announced by the likes of BP and ConocoPhillips. All that puts into context a chance conversation with the guy behind the till at the corner shop where I grab the odd packet of biscuit or pint of milk when required. It turns out that he is a Reservoir Engineer, out of work for the last 10 months. ...

In which I pretend to be young and free…. Chicago, 2011 #Throwback #Missed

Sometime in the late 80’s/ early 90’s.. The place: a University in Ekpoma, Nigeria.. The people: kids and teachers from the Chapel’s Children’s Sunday School, a few of whom I still remember by name - all grown up now. A few dead people (RIP Gracie, GB, ‘Lena and Harold), one fairly famous (Nigerian) fashion designer (M) and seven kids who made it into engineering with a further six involved in other STEM subjects. ...

Food, fluids and friendships.. The highlights of days of Christmas past..

Watching Whiplash again reminded me of the power mentors (or more correctly in this case, people who we look up to and whose opinions we cherish) can have over us, driving us to become singularly focused on achieving, thereby impressing them. The merits and demerits of the influence of Fletcher on Andrew may be open to interpretation - the methods certainly are - but the intensity with which that final scene was delivered might make up for every thing. ...

Sent on a whim, and very well received by all accounts. I should do this more often. #Embrace spontaneity

I chalk it up to the much vaunted persistence of vendors, when T. insists on coming into the office to drop off documents that require my assent rather than pop them in the mail. Part of me is more than mildly irritated at his insistence, given how much I have got on my plate at the moment - and the hour or so I will have to carve out of my day to attend to him. He comes bearing gifts, two large, sturdy umbrellas with alternating green and white panels; splashed with a large copy of his company logo. That does little to mollify me, but I manage to be courteous enough to make small talk and have a quick whiz through the documents I need to sign off. Just before he leaves, he enquires about the potential for future work, a subject I am unwilling to discuss given the state of the industry. When it is time to go home later that day, I leave the umbrella, that decision my nod to its unwantedness. ...

Image Source: Dionysius Burton, Flickr As far as dubious honours go, being asked what part of The States I am from in Union Square has to come near the top of my list; not least because it is unclear what prompted the fairly ancient gentleman to tap my arm and initiate the conversation in the first place. On reflection, my friend A., or more correctly her hair, must have had some input, if his eyes which never left her face had anything to do with it. ...

The day passes quickly without incident until they come through the door; they being Z, and A, here to spend a few minutes having a natter with me just after lunch. What strikes me first is how striking the resemblance is. Z has her mother’s eyes, flowing hair, and - from what I’ve heard - her penchant for good natured deviousness. When they first arrive, Z is hiding behind her mother, peeking out now and again like only children do, somehow believing that there not being a direct line of sight means they are hidden from view. A and I catch up about work and the latest office gossip, whilst trying to cajole Z into taking the hand I have proffered several times. Nothing works. By the time our catch up is done, they both leave me to the company of my headphones, and the pile of virtual paperwork I have been working through. ...