Monday, 6 December 2010


I woke up this morning and my first thought was how self-satisfied and boring yesterday's post was. Well, it might have been my second thought, after "I really shouldn't have watched Patty Hewes hallucinate horses until 1am on a school night", I am not entirely sure. Yes! I care about this shit! Also, I think I'm superstitious and wary of any hint of triumphalism when my week doesn't suck, or where I might reveal that I have some semblance of a social life or odd snippets of work. This is a really British thing, isn't it? There's something wrong in our brains.

Anyway, whatever moment of tiny triumph I might have had at potentially earning, over the next 6 months, enough to pay 2 weeks rent, has evaporated in the usual miasma of inadequacy, the traditional Monday tram tears, and the realisation that in order to survive, EVERY week has to be as least as good as last, or ideally far better, something which seems ludicrously improbable right now. I'm not complaining, though. I enjoy it, and at least I don't work for Patty Hewes or her real life equivalents. I do love the portrayal of careers in the law in Damages. Number of times any one of my employers gave me a Chanel handbag in 11 years in the law: 0. Number of times my employers offered me a beautiful apartment or sent me to Bloomingdales with a blank cheque: 0. Number of firearms used in the execution of my legal duties: 0. Number of legal meetings that took place in anonymous cars on street corners: 0. Conversely, number of times Ellen Parsons has to sit in a windowless beige conference room for fourteen hours at a stretch putting small colour coded post it notes on the corners of documents without the slightest suspicion of a biscuit: 0. Number of times Ellen Parsons has had to sit through the night trying to manipulate giant, unstable spreadsheets of exchange rates with little or no grasp of mathematics, intermittently getting screamed at by investment bankers: 0. It's hard not to feel a little cheated by my experiences as a lawyer. Can anyone in another frequently televised occupation please reassure me that the gap between reality and tv drama is similarly gutting? Vets, doctors, police, spies?

I digress. If you were irritated yesterday - and god knows I irritated myself - I apologise. I mean, honestly. This blog is not the place for cheerful tales of happy social events and satisfying professional triumphs however tiny! This weblog promises death, despair and biscuits and dammit, I will deliver.

Today I will be irritating you further, but in a different way, by putting ads on the blog. I don't know quite why I have finally capitulated, but the state of affairs described in the previous paragraphs is probably something to do with it. And seeing as Facegoop manages to generate revenue equivalent to several economy bags of cotton wool balls every month, I can't wait to see what dizzying amounts of money I will be entitled to here. I also very much look forward to seeing what Google considers appropriate targeted advertising for you, my lovely, long-suffering readers. Things I hope to see advertised: owl experience days, special cashmere blankets made from the tender throat hairs of kids, Sadaharu Aoki cakes. Things that will probably be advertised: hair transplants, stomach stapling, deworming treatments, self-help books for social anxiety.

It only seems fair, though, that I should give something in return. Is there anything in particular you would like to see more of? Confessional? Craft projects? Belgian politics? I have a plan for a special end of year video treat, but it will take some preparation. In the meantime, I am in your hands. Well, I'm not and you should be very thankful for that, since I haven't actually washed today, but you know what I mean.


Anonymous said...

I love your writing. I read your blog posts slowly and stop often, so they don't end too fast.
Apologies for how sad that sounds :)
Good for you finally going with the advertising!

Lisa-Marie said...

You are allowed to post happy things sometimes. being able to do stupid forms and your children making you an advent calendar are good things!

The advert I got is a bit misplaced, as it is for blogger and telling me to make a blog when I already have one, as will most people who read this I think.

Well done it for trying though! Maybe mext time it will advertise something i crave...

Unknown said...

You have not included doctors/surgeons. I am hoping lots of doctors will pipe up, saying that House, MD and Grey's Anantomy are complete and utter fantasies (which they are), and that the real life is full of rectal exams and children vomiting all over them;-)

Waffle said...

LM - that's because it hasn't started advertising yet... Couple of days.

Anon - You hardly have to apologise for being so lovely! Thank you!

AnnaMaria - Oooh yes, doctors. I might add them just to prompt them to answer.

JB_Kiwi said...

Well, I'd hardly go so far as to say that they are regularly portrayed anywhere (for obvious reasons), but the TV world of academia never fails to amuse...Ross on Friends as the keynote speaker of anything?? And the world of Yale as portrayed in Gilmore Girls is truly a fictional inspiration (although I will say that the rest of this show more than makes up for that...).
Can we have more owls please? And more of your take on Belgian/European politics...

JB_Kiwi said...

Oh, and more witloof.

Betty M said...

The only tv programmes with any realism in my experience are Yes Minister and The Thick of It. Otherwise it's all hokum. Courtroom dramas are the worst - judge John Deed sleeping with both prosecution and defence? All trainees being like This Life? Nothing of the sort. And whilst my work life is nothing like that of Patty H I am however one of the rare lawyers who has used a firearm whilst at work (not in a dangerous kind of way I would hasten to add).

More Belgian politics and speculoos for me please!

J. said...

I admit I was relieved that you had some good things to report yesterday--I worry a bit about you sometimes.

As for the fictional portrayals of professions: museums are alternately portrayed as boring or fantastical. Yes, curators are weird and over-educated, and some of us are dry as dust, but others are really silly and fun. We get to hang out with cool stuff all day, but none of it comes alive at night and we don't get to wear the costumes. (Except once that I know of: a colleague of mine was accidentally locked in a fur vault cooler and almost squeezed himself into a 100+ year old fur trimmed with peacock feathers before we got him out. But that was self-preservation and doesn't count.)

I do like the confessional feature. I actually have a confession today: I bought something called a Belgian waffle with a hilarious label in our local Whole Foods (yuppie organic shop nicknamed Whole Paycheck). I meant to send you a photo of it, but I can't figure out the camera function on my new phone and, rather than look for the manual, decided to eat it instead. (The alleged waffle, not the phone.)

Em said...

I agree, you are absolutely allowed to write about achievements and glowy things. I love reading it all!
Mmm, and always enjoy your Belgianisms, biscuits, owls, the Weepette, your gorgeous boys... in fact, don't edit anything out, just write.
And would love to know where you're being published. Yay!

Aspasie said...

More Belgianism it makes me miss home...then laugh at how silly our dear Belgium is. (Liege)

Profession wise, scientists man the tele goes nuts with us. I've not in my whole career ever seen a lab coat that was even remotely shapely. That CSI non-sense where they pop the sample in and ta da result...oh if only :( I feel cheated as a lab rat sigh !

SW19mum said...

I'll speak up for surgeons: if only life were so glamourous. If only shift work and bad diets meant we too could wear skin tight scrubs in pastel shades rather than shapeless pyjamas in Eau de Nile... Where are the McDreamys and illicit liaisions in linen cupboards? Where are the linen cupboards these days? All outsourced and delivered by the kilo. The TV Operating Theatre; vomit, blood and poo-free havens of stolen glances and heaving bosoms... How true to life... Better get back to work

Kay Dennison said...

I thought it rather fun!!!!

Kay Dennison said...

I thought it rather fun!!!!

Ellie said...

Published? What? NOW!

Anonymous said...

Dear Waffle,

We really don't begrudge you your morsels of happiness, prosperity and seasonal merriment! Many of us are rather fond of you and actually fervently wish you an increase in all these good things.

eRiN said...

This day will go down in history as the first time I ever went looking for ads in a blog.

But I don't see any :(

frau antje said...

The architect father in the Brady bunch was spot on. Best thing about architecture (aside from spending other people's money)...relatively little vomit (it's only alluded to in design reviews), and I just don't ever want to be in a hospital where somebody's banging Nurse Jackie in a linen closet (probably the kind of place where one hears, "I've taken your meds, and there's nothing you can do about it"). However, curators engaging in self-preservation sounds like an interesting museum in itself.

How about a post office box, so we can send cash if we ever manage to get to a mailbox? Suppose that would just cost money.

Speaking of meds, WV = reherit (sounds like revisiting the small handful of Ambien that was passed down to me from the family estate...and used wisely, but sadly they are gone...yes, you can expect windfalls like this when your father is not a knight, but an Optimist).

g. said...

We are happy to see you happy sometimes, and kudos for getting advertisers... no shame in that. I will even click on them repeatedly in the hope of generating you a few more cotton balls.

More confessionals, please! I love them ridiculously much.

Margaret said...

Magazine publishing is in no way like it is portrayed on the teevee. I work for a fairly glam publication, yet there is very little intrigue, and people spend way more time in tedious meetings and sending emails about Where are those proofs for the shopper's guide and Please don't leave things in the fridge over the weekend than in stealing rival mags' story ideas and having sex in conference rooms. Also they never get the separation of the editorial and business sides right.

I love Confessional and First World Whining best, even though I've been too busy lately to contribute (now, isn't that a good whine?).

ghada said...

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ghada said...

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ghada said...

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ghada said...

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