WTF Wednesdays

The UK has recently been graced with the pre-budget report which details the economic policies the government will enforce next year. Not satisfied with the banks they already own and the mess that is looming over everyone's Christmas, they have decided to put further tax burdens on the whole banking industry. In spirit, I am fully behind taxing bankers but the measures proposed simply hurts the graduates and middle-earners who really have had very little to with bringing on the crisis and who are already suffering from the wage cuts, redundancy, over-leveraged mortgages, unemployment etc etc. It's like all these politicians just spout out headlines that will be short term crowd pleasers. This is not a stand up comedy act - I wish they would think about what they are doing. Completely randomly, they have also decided to reduce tax on bingo winnings - WHAT??!!

What is up with the Chancellor's eyebrows? Thunderbirds was so eighties...

Do we have a right to judge Tiger Woods? Should I care about what he has done in his personal life? Morally, he does not have a leg to stand on and I am not here to condone adultery. However, he's a professional sportsman and that is what he is known for. Why is it that he is having to take time off from the golf circuit because of the public backlash when politicians, movie stars, singers and even religious leaders can get on with their professional lives after their skeletons are unleashed? Surely some of them have more responsibility as moral examples than Tiger Woods? Then there are the celebrities who make immoral decisions in their field of profession - the multitude of politicians who lie and also sports personalities who cheat in their game. Even this year, there was the Renault scandal with a driver trying to throw a race, the rugby player who faked a bleeding face injury and France's controversial entry into the World Cup. I think we should give Tiger a break - glass houses, throwing stones and all that.

Duck duck goose..!

Went to the cinema to see Disney Pixar's Up in 3D. It's their latest animated movie and it was completely lovely. A grump of an old man setting off to live his unfulfilled dreams in memory of his childhood sweetheart - with a chubby little oriental kid to test his patience but who ultimately brings out the best in the old man. It's sort of like Gran Torino - but less violent and with helium balloons. Apart from crying my eyes out (it is very moving), the biggest surprise was how much 3D has evolved since I was 8, following Blue Peter to cut out glasses from cereal boxes and using green and red Quality Street sweet wrappers. I looked like an idiot and the TV screen was largely the same. Now, the plastic goggles still make me look like an idiot but the 3D element really works. Definitely go check it out.

It has been 10 years since I went to University - the first week of October 1999 was when I turned up at Oxford as a fresher to learn the ways of adulthood. To celebrate this joyous occasion, I organised a reunion (kudos to facebook as it made everyone very easy to find) and 50 of us gathered in a gentlemen's club in London on Friday. These types of official reunions are not as 'de rigeur' as they are in the US, and it was really nice to see everyone and for them to make an effort. The variety of different paths we had the choice to follow is really inspiring. Along with several hardened academics who continue to labour on their post docs for intellectual acclaim, there was a mix of lawyers, media moguls and art gallery socialites. Strangely, no one seems to have gone into banking but me - they obviously had better career advisors than I did! Anyway, it was warming to see everyone and to hear of their successes. It still makes me wonder though, whether we follow a predetermined destiny or whether we have the will to write our own futures.

Talking of ugly ducks turning into swans, you have to read about the Belgian Miss Homeless contest. As a social experiment, they ran this contest and the winner receives housing for a year... Aside of being a headline grabber, is it really any worse or better than an actual Miss World contest? The prize may seem more meaningful (in that it satisfies our desires to be do-gooders) but are we not taking exploitation to new levels?

Then the big goose of the week - my work has banned all web based emails and facebook! I spend 12 hours a day in the office and usually more than 5 days a week! It is apparently to protect information security - I still feel like I'm being violated...

Interlagos is underway - my Fernando is out on the first lap following repercussions of another crash. All my eggs are in the red bull basket now. Come on Vettel!!

Knowledge is power

Turns out the posh boys I work with actually are part of the English aristocracy. All this time, I thought they were just overpaid idiots with their false airs and graces and public school humour but turns out, the jokes on me! They have titles and signet rings and when their fathers die, they will inherit land and maybe even peasants... Isn't this hilarious, who even knew this stuff still existed? Anyway, ever the opportunist, I have profited from the situation as one of them is dating a girl at Jimmy Choo and she is getting me 70% off some new shoes!

The half marathon was today - there were 15,000 people running through the royal parks. Predictably, I under-trained so it was less exciting for me, but it was vaguely amusing to be running with so many people. It was nice weather at least and the views were lovely. Even London is pretty in the Autumn - lovely golden reds and browns on all the trees.

This run means I have spent a good chunk of this weekend with my colleagues. I'm already worried I spend too much time with them and this just confirms it! My work day starts at 7:30am and then don't leave until at least 7pm - and then usually only to have a drink in the bar with co-workers before coming home. That's a disturbing amount of time, but it keeps getting compounded because they naturally become my friends and we organise to do things like marathons at the weekend. Talk about having all your eggs in one basket. I need to get out more - any non-solitary hobby suggestions would be gratefully received!

Goody goody gumdrops

The whole blog journey began for me as I was procrastinating my way towards some financial exams. Results were out last week and I have passed! Hooray! After the initial relief, the whole thing is somewhat anticlimatic (don't you just hate that word?) because my reward is to sit the next level next Summer - although that one is the last one after which I can stick 3 extra letters after my name. Oh goody...

My 3 summer weddings are also over. Through some cunning facebook de-tagging, I have managed to go to all three wearing the same outfit without anyone knowing. The recession has got nothing on me - although my larger European neighbours have called an end to this depressing period by reporting the return of economic growth. Not only do I not trust their statisticians, but overall it's fairly meaningless to me as the UK still has a long way to go. But to cheer us all up, Simon Cowell is back on our screens with the latest series of the X factor. Oh goody....

At one of the summer weddings, I was reunited with James Bond - no, not the international man of mystery but the guy I was sort of dating before he decided to stop calling me back. To cut a long story short, during our first date, he found out his dad had been diagnosed with cancer (this was almost a year ago now). His dad passed away in June and we hadn't seen each other since. At the wedding, he was very open and chatted about his dad and how he is now looking after his mother, his parent's house and his dad's outstanding affairs - all pretty heavy burdens for a guy who should also be grieving. He was also coming on to me pretty strong but as much as I like him, I had to hold him back. He is very vulnerable right now and I don't really want to get involved with someone who doesn't return my calls. I felt really moral and superior at the time, but I regret letting the opportunity go now. Oh goody...

The news is smothered by 2 stories. Firstly, the UK is divided over al-Megrahi, the alleged Lockerbie bomber. The Americans are outraged by his compassionate release but the British news is reporting it at arms length as it falls into Scottish jurisdiction - they wanted their own parliament so let the Scots lie in the bed they have made. Even worse, the Libyan news thinks that al-Megrahi's release is a reflection of their country's growth in power - the Libyans believe he was set free because the Western world wants to be their friends. He was not set free as an innocent man, he was sent home to die as a guilty man as an act of compassion which will forever be argued as something he does not deserve. Secondly, we are all wasting time arguing over whether Caster Semenya is a woman or not. Leave her alone. What a horrible trauma for an 18 year old girl. Very publicly, the world is debating her gender and she has taken 'tests' (I really can't even begin to imagine how they test her) which will say whether it is appropriate for her to race as a woman.

Sometimes, I am so grateful to be a nobody.

Question of the day

What is your first response to this question?

Back when I was in school, I was in fact fourteen, I received a letter through the post. This in itself was exciting because post is a joyous affair when you're young as you haven't yet learnt the dread of those monthly bills... Anyway, this letter was addressed to me and simply had 'Who are you?' typed on a blank sheet of paper. Sadly, this was during the scary nineties and I was so worried that someone was out to get me and that I would find a horse's head in my bed that my dad had to come clean and say it was from him. He had read an article about a book called 'Sophie's World' in which a fourteen year old girl receives the same anonymous letter and it begins a journey through philosophy and self discovery. I don't think he ever got over the disappointment of me not being able to think outside of the box but such are the risks when you set such high goals...

I was reminded of this today as I was chatting to my friend over a coffee, having dragged her round Nike town as I tried on every pair of running shorts going. She is probably the most religious person I know and we were killing time until she had to go to church for evening service. She was telling me how last week, the sermon had been about identity and how we choose to identify ourselves. How do I answer the question 'who are you?'? I am a daughter, a sister, a banker, a European, a female, an athlete...etc etc. The sermon was saying that some identities are not forever - ie your parents will pass away, you may change jobs - but if you identify yourself as a Christian then this is an everlasting relationship.

I'm vaguely aware that I have written 2 consecutive posts that are loosely based on religion but I think this is interesting for everybody. Given my track record, I probably wouldn't define myself first as a blogger (although I am trying!) but I really couldn't decide what to choose first. If I was a believer of mantras then I guess I could make myself into anything as long as I say it out loud enough times! Although it makes you think about all those AA meetings where they make you say 'I am an alcoholic' before you say anything else which seems to be a somewhat negative form of self-branding. However, I'm off to polish up my positive outlook on life - I am afterall an optimist!

NB. Usain Bolt has just run 100m in 9.58s - it seriously takes me longer to get out of bed. Immense.

Time is like a waterfall

always flowing down,

we have but one moment,

to swim and not to drown

In response to dear Otin who always knows what is at the forefront of my thoughts, I am going to respond to his comment through this post. This weekend was the last of the Formula One races before the summer break in Hungary. It's very popular as its central location means it is easily accessible to all European fans and thus attracts a variety of F1 fans. On Saturday, the man Alonso managed to get his car on pole, thanks to a few car improvements but also a light fuel strategy. This however was marred by the tragic accident which saw a 1kg spring off a formula one car go bouncing down the track to hit Felipe Massa on the head when he was driving at racing speed. He lost consciousness and drove straight into a barrier. He was air-lifted to hospital and is now in intensive care - the latest is that he can move his arms and legs but can not speak. He is not expected to race again this season. Spookily, a week earlier, Henry Surtees (son of former F1 champion John) died after being hit in the head at racing speed by the loose wheel of a fellow F2 racer. To add to the general bad karma of the weekend, Alonso had to withdraw from the race on Sunday after a bad pit stop saw his wheel fly off in the middle of a lap.

As an Alonso fan, I am devastated that he is being suspended from the next race (which incidentally is his home race in Spain) but as an F1 fan, I am truly devastated by what has happened to Massa and hope for his speedy and full recovery. Everyone knows the sport is dangerous but so far we have been lucky with a good run without any serious accidents.

And because I can't end on something sad, here's a quick journey into the ridiculous. A group of children were made to walk backwards into the sea, arms linked and singing a song as part of a confidence building exercise. It all went rather pear shaped as the tide pulled out the sandbank from beneath their feet and the whole group of 40 were only just rescued by coast guards. The camp organiser's reponse: "Obviously we've pulled that exercise and it will never be done again"

Holiday!

If we took a holiday

Took some time to celebrate

Just one day out of life

It would be, it would be so nice!

I have had a most relaxing week in a mountain top villa in the Sierra Nevada - some may say it's the traditional British summer escape, but it was truly lovely. All the wonderful sea views without having to face the crowds. There's something very calming about being so close to the sky - I think I am definitely a mountain (as opposed to sea) person. Whilst I was mildly excited by the sliver thin resurgence of the British Pound, it didn't really matter because the cost of food was so cheap. The Spanish wine that I buy in my local supermarket in London (Tesco for those that are interested) is 60% cheaper - I can infact buy the Reserva for less than I pay for the Crianza here. Between the wine, gazpacho and sea views, it's been a very liquid week!

On the Sunday, I went to a Spanish bar to watch the German Grand Prix and experienced something I never get in London - the warm embrace of fellow Fernando Alonso fans. All the warmer for its rarity. Apart from this one indulgence, I was pretty sure I would relish the isolation but I discovered I have one further addiciton. I am addicted to news. Every morning, no matter how hard I tried to distract myself, and much to the amusement of my addiction-free friends, I had to get to a newsagent and buy an English newspaper. The only newspaper that makes the daily journey to Spain is The Sun (this is the most widely circulated tabloid in the UK, read by the masses, often based on hypotheses, with dubious journalism quality but with a fair chunk of sarcasm and some genius headlines - incidently my brother works there). So, mostly I read about how swine flu is inflitrating the nation, how Jennifer Anniston has found herself another man and how Cheryl Cole is prettier than Dannii Minogue. There were little snippets that covered the Indonesia bombings which I could use to piece together the pictures on Spanish TV. What language barrier I say...

Thankfully, the heat has broken here as you all predicted. I have come back to a much milder climate complete with drizzly showers - everyone is still walking round dressed as though it is 10 degrees hotter though, which is probably adding to the swine flu statistics that The Sun continues to churn out. When I was young, I had a Korean nanny who swore on my many dead ancestors' lives that if you went to sleep with a fan on, you would not wake up in the morning. I used to think she was crazy, but I've never been able to go to sleep with the fan on. You may laugh, but this is serious folklore in Korea - like the Bogeyman, or throwing spilt salt over your shoulder, or not walking under ladders. It's known as fan death - read the wiki-link.

As an aside, an American won the British Open today at Turnberry. It was a day of despair and disappointment - firstly for Ross Fisher, the local lad, who managed a double par when he was 2 shots in the lead to rule himself out of play. However, the real tear-jerker was 59 year old Tom Watson, an old school hero, who had been leading the competition and threw it away on the final hole to lose to another American during the play off. Sport can be so cruel.

Silverstone!

I can't find the words to describe what I experienced yesterday. I am in search of a new life dream - let's just leave it at that! Come follow me down the Grid Walk!!

Pole sitter and eventual winner Vettel arriving at the coveted front spot.
Former Champion Kimi doing his pre-race preparations:

Fellow Ferrari driver and very close runner up last year, Massa:

And a final treat - Double world champion Fernando Alonso. Can't wait for his talent to be released on a half decent car!

Blue skies

When you're waiting for the kettle to boil, mail to arrive or other inspiration to strike - do you ever wonder what other people are doing at that exact moment? If I am having a really lazy day - you know the kind, when you're still in your pyjamas after lunch - I can normally shame myself into getting dressed and out the door by thinking of how I am wasting a day compared to the likes of Warren Buffett, Tiger Woods or Anna Wintour.

The Formula 1 Grand prix this weekend is being held in Monaco. Whilst it's not my favourite track of the F1 calendar, there's still something special about Monaco with its F1 history, the annual drivers dinner hosted by the King and the decadent buildings all round the track. I also love that it is a street course so everyone drives on it for the remaining 51 weeks of the year. There's something pleasing in thinking that they are the same roads that Maxmillian de Winter drove in Rebecca - I inted one day to drive round them myself - hopefully in a Bugatti Veron!


Watching it on TV, all you can see in the background are these fabulous yachts docked in the harbour full of people wearing Ray Ban Clubmasters sipping champagne.

How come our Saturday mornings are so different?

Make it a Blue day!

Jubilations!

Although my dear football team have finished third in the league, today is a momentous day in my life as I have FINALLY made it to the top of the list! The credit crunch obviously serves a purpose as enough people have gone bankrupt for me to get a season ticket - I've only been on the waiting list since 2002. I have been saving to buy my dream Miu Miu handbag but I figure it is already almost out of fashion and I can't really turn down this ticket - who knows when I'll be offered it next. I'm going to keep it forever and create a legacy. My future children will fight to be the one to inherit it...

In a haze of blue glory, I'm going to dedicate this post to all things sporty in my life. I'm an avid golfer (yes, don't worry, I already know it spoils a good walk) but it started as the only way I could spend 4 straight hours with my dad without threatening to disown each other, and for some reason, the game comes very easy to me. To balance out the cardiovascular side of life, I shall be running the London half marathon this October - I'm glad to have found marathoner81 as I'm now relying on her to shame me into training through her own rigorous regime!

I also love watching Formula One races - it's just something about the speed, the cars, the slight smell of petrol you can smell through the TV screen... It's been tarnished of late by several 'scandals' involving fraud, dishonesty and general confusion . Even worse, a few teams including Ferrari are threatening to pull out on the back of spending restrictions - it's all turned into a political off-track nightmare. It doesn't help that ungrateful drivers are comparing it to being in prison. What a complete idiot thing to say - he earns more than I know how to count up to, he drives a car worth more than my life insurance, he's dating a pussycat doll, he's giving his family the life they always wanted and he's living his dream of being a Champion driver. The boy needs to learn some perspective on life. My loyalties remain firmly with the great eyebrow-ed one...

Anyhow, here's hoping for a great season for Chelsea next year!