A series of unfortunate mispronunciations

Prosciutto … delicious cured ham. Served with maybe some melon and some breads makes a delicious starter or snack around the family dining table. Goes well on pizza too.

Heard in Aldershot’s tescos last night as being ‘shall me get some of that expensive Prosky ooto or just cheap ham?’.

As a much younger child I recall going to a friend’s house where they serving some lovely cheese and tomato ‘Pizer ‘.

It gets worse. Also a nice delicatessen in Farnham offered me some Pecorina cheese … now I’m not a native of Italy, but I have relatives that are and I’m pretty sure no one should talk about pecorina in a middle class delicatessen. I’m quite broad in thinking but I like to keep my cheese separate to my karma sutra.

Another one that actually came from a relative of my husband was the mispronunciation of the word ‘Penne’ …. I thought it was so simple and common most people would get it right … but this relative has spent a lot of time in Australia … she elongates her vowels and turned the nice quill shaped pasta into Peeene … you don’t put pene in pasta .. and if you do it’s because you are a fetish based Hanibal lecture.

My favourite came from the lovely garden centre in between Aldershot and Farnham. A well-spoken upper class nicely groomed elderly lady was picking up Jam jars and reading what they were. The was a selection of Jams from Italy. In English we often call Jam ‘Preserve’ although it’s quite an old reference and falling out of favour with younger people. As the fruits have been preserved it is a jam based preserve. We also think that Italian language is like English but with an ‘I’ at the end of each verb. So she picked up a Jam jar which had a lovely rustic picture on it … and shouted to her husband that there was some nice Italian preservativi  for sale. In a garden centre. In surrey? I think not because on the wall of the toilet of the café in cetona is a machine that sells flavoured preservativi for men and women to enhance their sex life. They don’t come in jars.

scum and ranting

So recently, my neighbours, burst out of their house attacking their tenant. The intentions of my neighbour were, for whatever reason, to cause serious and permanent harm to his tenant. We saw the dog attacking him, we saw the neighbours wife slapping him and we saw the neighbours brother run off after him wearing a knuckle duster. For whatever reason they were very keen to teach their tenant a physical lesson.

Because we saw what happened we were asked to provide a statement. Being naïve we thought we were doing the right thing. Giving an honest statement of what we saw.

However, [can I get a rewind!] My neighbours have spent 6 years being general  shit heads. Passing racial slurs over the fence, partying throughout the summer with speakers outside broad casting thumping music to all, and smoking drugs openly. Forcing us to leave our house to get some peace and quiet. I’ve had my wheelie bin stolen by them, I have had eggs thrown at my house and my car has been bashed here and there, doubtless as to who has done it. Additionally their ‘tenant’ was a drug dealer. Used to invite his friends to use my parking space, on returning home would laugh when I asked them to move and throw the nastiest of verbal abuse in my direction in front of my young son. So I have no sympathy for any of these people. Scum they name is my neighbours.

Fast forwards a few weeks, it seemed that charges were to be pressed and we were asked if we would go to court. At which point due to worrying about any consequences once they linked us with someone testifying against them. So we retracted our statement. Sadly the police failed to pass this onto the CPS so we had to retract a second time. Didn’t matter either way as the CPS then summonsed us to court [and failure to show up would mean a warrant for our arrest would be issued … seriously. I have kept on the right side of the law my entire life, I do not keep the company of criminals. I just want to be left alone and now all of a sudden I risk facing a criminal record if I’m not prepared to endanger my family … BIG hole in the judicial system].

So off we went to court. It was almost comedic … the second we walked into the court my neighbours were sat right in front of us. We were shown to a discrete room [abit late now] and in walks the tenant who has been abusive over and over again to us. We gave our evidence and left only to find that as there was room for doubt the verdict was not guilty. Since then our fence has all of a sudden come down [the fense post has been split … possible through force]. I have a series of scratches on the side of my car and now appearing on my new £3500 decking is dog poo. We don’t have a dog. Our neighbours do.

So the lesson I have learnt. If you see a crime. Unless you have an over whelming jolt of empathy for the victim [ maybe if the victim is a child?] do not report it. It causes you so much stress, the police want ticks in boxes and are as subtle and attuned to your plight as an amoeba .. mistakes are made and ultimately if you won’t play ball you could easily gain a criminal record at best or become a voiceless victim yourself. Brilliant.

Since the court case ended, I’ve become a social networking sleuth … I’ve located the tenants facebook account and amongst the racial slurs and salutes to Raul Moats are threats to end the life of my neighbours. Dead man walking references. Lovely. And on the twitter account of my neighbours 18 year old pregnant daughter is a glimmer of hope. Their house has been on the market for 6 months, 7 weeks ago a SOLD sign appeared which has over the past few days been taken down. However, her status is ‘I cant wait to move into my new council flat in 3 days’ … so if she’s going one hopes they are going also.

Ps – I really really miss my son … I see him for less than 3 hours every day. From 6.45am till 7.45am. And then from 6-8pm. That’s all you get being a working mum to forge a close relationship with your kid. 

Day 3 of new job and the first fluttering’s of heavy emotion.

Why?

I miss my son.

I have sat and planned out how and when I can wisely spend my 24 days holiday allowance next year and realized I will have to rely on the childminder quite heavily.

I know he’ll be fine and looked after. It’s not that. It’s just he’s mine … my son and I miss him badly. 24 days a year doesn’t seem like enough time to spend with him one bit.

I can feel myself getting revved up inside. Massive hump lump in my throat and millimetres from tears. My hope is that I will soon become busy at work, too busy to fret over him as much as am doing, but between you and me, I don’t want too. I have loved all this time I’ve had being a mum this year and I don’t really want to let it all go. But I’ve wrecked my brains and know what short of a lottery win, for now and the foreseeable future I have to work and earn a good wage. No words sum up the aching bond between a mum and her boy and yes I have to make this work. The place isn’t that bad really. In the distance is the genuine possibility of occasional work from home. But I’m not at the school gates holding his hand listening to him talk about how good / bad his day has been. I have to complete 6 months probation here. I’ve spoken to him in doors and once my probation is complete I’m going to request I work a 4 day week OR one day work from home a week. If they say no, then no harm done. But if they say yes I’ll be over the moon. To be at the school gates once a week will be sufficiently meaningful for me.

And now I have to stop typing before I actually start crying at my desk. Dear god get a grip women.

SMS: Save my Sanity

In life I think it’s the mistakes we make that cause us to reflect on what makes us happy.

 

Recently I made an utterly dire mistake. I took a new job following redundancy. Let me set the scene and illustrate just exactly how blindly stupid I have been.

 

My interview was soft. No hard hitting technical questions or probing situational questions. One of the interviewers kept winking at me. I was asked about my marriage situation. I was asked about coping with children. I was asked about my mortgage situation. Let’s be clear here, the job wasn’t as the new head of the IMF, it was as a software tester in a tiny company.

And yet despite all of these misgivings I took the role based on a) the need to earn an income and b) the opportunity to roll out better test practises and automation.

On arrival day 1 I was asked if I would rather have a lap top or a static computer … which was odd as I’d explained during my interview that on occasion, and it really is occasion in order to balance life and work it is always good to be able to work from home. During my interview I was promised that this was completely acceptable. My new MD however informed me that it would be an absolute no to work from home.

OK. Deep breath.

New role as it transpires bears little resemblance to the one described in the interview. Time has stood still for this company in relation to software development. The last time I saw problems that these guys are having was in roughly 1997. They are looking at me to drag them out of last century and into this one. OK. Count to 10. Twice.

Over hearing my MD referring to ethnic people using racial slurs was rather unexpected. Hearing that the company is on a knife edge and at times has been waiting for a cheque to cash before knowing how long they can run for. Really at this point it’s clear I’ve made a judgement of error.

The overall atmosphere is additionally peculiar – silence with a tinge of hostility. The majority of people working here have been here for 15 years+ and have never worked anywhere else. Bless them, they do not know that life is much nicer elsewhere. If I wasn’t depressed to start off with I would be at the thought of staying here for much longer. No one talks, no one plans, no one mentions what they’re doing. At least not to me. Any information shared with me is incomplete and full of distractions. Nothing and I mean nothing is documented. They haven’t heard of ISEB/ ISTQB/ BDD/ QC/ Selinium yada yada. I’m a software tester get me out of here.

 

So the hunt began, desperately at first wanting to get the hell out of here asap. Then the offers started rolling in. TFFT! This lead me to hand in my notice after less than 5 complete weeks here. In predictable fashion my MD has informed me I must work my notice period out, despite the soft clause in my contract that states it can be waived by mutual agreement. Although, having seen how unprofessional and out of date they are, this has not come as a surprise.

 

I have been sent to Coventry and it’s one hell of a commute!. Petulance rules here defacto .. my punishment for being honest and informing them I didn’t want to waste any more time as I knew that this wasn’t the right role or company to thrive in for me is to be ignored. Work place bullying much? Left here, not understanding what they want from me. No one talking to me. Clock watching. The light at the end of the tunnel gets brighter every day.

 

Now this time I have [28 days now] I am using to reflect on what drove me to choose this as a potential good source of employment fulfilment, the negative signs were there in the interview.

 

I ‘think’ having been corporate for such a long time, I have romantic notions of what working for a smaller company is like. My very first job was with a small company and I loved the banter and the rapid decision making and the shared goals. That particular company though had a pulse and you felt part of a team. I can only state that wanting something different, wanting an opportunity and wanting to recreate this brotherly love I experienced some 15 years ago over-ruled my head. My wise head that deep down gets everything right even when my erratic romantic heart bullies it into submission.

 

So yet again, Lilly, on your path to enlightenment you’ve messed up something chronic.

 

On the plus / faith in human nature restoration side, I have had endless support from a lot of people. People who have noticed the rather extreme and rapid weight loss / being on the verge of tears 99% of the time/ chain smoking like a bitch thing/ incapable of raising a smile and floating off into a fuggy world of misery just isn’t me. People have checked in on me and told me off and told me to have confidence in myself. Told me the things I’d forgotten about myself. Let me talk endlessly about myself in a purely [and out of character] selfish way. The first time in my life, having been through births, deaths, marriages and divorces, I couldn’t think of anything else other than how pitiful I had become, how loathsome I was, how undeserving I am. Essentially, I think I was scraping my rock bottom. Ouch.

 

But the turnaround began for me last Sunday. I went to the Buddhist temple with friends and my son. It was a lovely family day and whilst it was bitterly cold we sat and chanted and through it I felt at peace with myself for the first time in weeks. The constant surge of vomitable sensation abated. I felt I was able to hold a conversation without looking for a get out clause that would allow me to go and mope some more. I felt that ‘you know what, I’m not giving them anymore of my energy, it’s negative and will cause other negativity to circulate me and I’m done with that. I let it go. My energy is best spent on making the world a peaceful place, not filling it with more sadness and selfishness. The offers started coming in on the Monday and as soon as I received my first paper contract through the door I handed in my notice. I have not vomited in 5 days. I have achieved 6 hours constant sleep a night and I have driven both too and from work without bawling my head off [oh yes Alice Cooper emulation – mascara everywhere].

 

Now the next step. Where to accept as my next job?

 

Job 1:

30 mins commute away.

Working with a real mover and shaker in the software testing industry. I will learn a lot from this place and gain some really important skills. They have a real drive and goal and energy, the company has a lot of heavy investment. I think I can be happy here.

More money than I’m currently earning.

 

Job 2:

10 mins commute away.

In a potential volatile industry that squeezes everytime it’s hit financially.

Lots of lovely nice friendly people.

Senior position.

Can work from home a lot – benefits are good.

On less money than I’m currently earning.

 

Job 3:

Possible the dullest job of all.

20 mins commute away.

Less money

Total safe ‘forever’ job.

 

 

Job 4:

Big huge giant cooperate.

I’ll be face less.

It’s working on security systems that compromise the bejeezus out of my morals.

Same money and same commute as I have now. [30 mins]

 

Whatsagirltodo!!!