Craziness will drive me crazy.

I enjoy my job, mostly. It's the same as most people's. I enjoy most of it, and there are things I'd rather not do, but they're part of the job.

When someone at work starts getting at you, over the tiniest, non-important things, then it starts to make going to work quite difficult.
Now I will say, this person hasn't been too, too bad until recently. Unfortunately this is what I expected to happen sooner or later. I knew this would happen when I took on the position. People who worked here previously had warned me. Which is why I've kept my distance. So it won't hurt too much when this person decides to take against me.

I've decided that if this continues for another week or so, then I'm going to make a complaint. As it is i've been marking down everything that's happening, large or small, because I want an accurate record of the craziness that's being aimed towards me. Not just me, the others are getting a touch of it too. But I'm not willing to put up with it. I should't have to justify the things I do in my job. Especially when it's no concern of theirs.

So, I'm feeling rather infuriated. If only it were one big thing, then we could have a bit of a blow out then just get on with things. Little tiny nit-picking, constantly throughout the last three weeks, with the occasional moment of over-the-top niceness, which I don't trust at all.

I have had worse jobs. And hopefully, even if this were to continue I can just get my head down and get on with it as I need the money from this job for my savings.

Wish me luck :/

Introspective Babble.

I've been rather introspective lately.
It started with a phone call from home. UK home, not Falklands home. Again it was mentioned how I was the last one that anyone expected to move so far away. I fully agree. I never expected to do half the things I've experienced in life. I never expected to go to University, I never believed I'd have ended up working abroad, let alone somewhere like Disney World. I wouldn't have ever believe I'd have the courage to move 8000 miles away from the place I grew up and the life I knew.
Sky-diving, watching a rocket launch, whale-watching, fishing, shooting. Camping on the beach in Barcelona. Working at the local radio station reading the news.

All these things that I never thought I would do, that were never even on my radar of possibilities. But here I am, 28 years old and not just believing I can go and have adventures and have experiences, but actually living it.

The thoughts that have mostly been circulating my active brain are mostly about the people that have been in and out of my life. From the boyfriend who had our future planned, before we went on to our own seperate futures, to friends who lives moved quietly on to the next village, on to the next phase, marriage, children, settling into their routine. So many people throughout my life that I am in touch with, have lost touch with. I have friends the world over. I can go anywhere I wish and make connections with more people. All these people who touch my life and leave a mark in some way.

I am a very lucky person. I can anywhere in the world, and always go home. I have many people I care for, who care for me.

By the time I'm thirty I aim to be started on my travelling. Whether it's at the first point of my journey, of popping home for a cuppa and hug for Mum before moving on, or whether I'll be in another country where I know no-one but can get to know anyone. I'm looking forward to it.

How exciting.

The Falklands and I.

Things are really hotting up this year with the dispute over the Falkland Islands. I personally can't see how there is a dispute when the people who inhabit the Islands, and have for many generations, are Falklands Islanders first and foremost, and very British with it.
Of course the media is going crazy with the goings on between the UK and Argentina over the Islands. The Argentine Government say the Islands are theirs and it was the UK who invaded way back in the early 1800s, and the UK say, hang on, that's not what happened, but regardless the Islanders want to be British. Even after the Falklands War in 1982 when many people, on both sides, died fighting for these Islands, after the Brit's won the Islanders back their freedom, after they were invaded by the Argentine military; it seems the Islands are still to be fought over.

I report on the news in the Islands. I read so much of the information there is available on the internet. I have researched the history of the Islands, from both sides, as I didn't want to be biased when I moved here. My conclusion is; leave the Islanders alone. Allow them their right to self-determination. They are happy to live in a beautiful but sometimes bleak group of Islands that have produced a hardy and proud people. These people are hard-working. They play hard. They are independant in a way mainlanders can't be. They are optimistic about their future, with a good standard of education, and the opportunities of further education in the UK.

I love living in the Falklands. After moving here on a one-way ticket, giving myself six months to decide if I wanted to stay or to return to the UK, I am still here. Two years and I hope for longer still. Immigration laws meant I had to re-apply for my current job, but I got it and thank the fates for it. I have such a good quality of life here. Even the people I don't like here I respect. They are who they are and make no pretences. I enjoy my work, and I am good at it. I love my friends, who make my time here that much better. I love the wildlife and the opportunites the Islands have given me. I have been fishing, shooting, whale-watching, visited Islands, stayed on the West, eaten numerous food dishes never before contemplated. I garden, I'm more active, and have some of the most amazing photographs. I have lost weight, my skin is clearer, my moods are more level, all in all I feel healthier.

I tried to come to the Islands unbiased, but living here has made me very much a fan of the Falklands and a supporter of the Falkland Islands people.

It's 3 am and All is Well

It's 3:33am and I'm awake. Yeah it's a Friday night and not unusual for me to be awake, except I haven't been out tonight.

I had a job interview for my job today. It's very wierd applying for the position you are currently in. But I applied, I did the interview, and I got the result. Which I can't say right now.

Oh, and Ben's baby was born too! I now have a little nephew to go with my two nieces. William Arthur. And, regardless of what the brothers say, it's not my turn! I'll leave it to them to carry on the family name. I was surprised to hear dad had showed up to see the baby.He never gave Ben any indication that he realises I'm still alive down here, or that I exist at all. But hey ho.

I'm awake in the early hours,
I'm listening to the summer showers,
Wishing I could fall asleep,
Close my eyes and count those sheep,
But here I lay, writing my blog,
When I should be sleeping like a log.

When I was younger I used to write so much poetry in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep. I used to have a real problem sleeping. Luckily these days it's more of a rare occurance. Except for this week.

I Travel? Sam Travels, Here I Go?

I've been thinking more about my travel idea recently. I've passed my first thousand pounds saved for the journey and am excited about raising more. Although how much and how fast depends on my being able to continue to work here at Falklands Radio. I have a job interview on Friday. For my job. It's odd.

Anyhow, the travel thoughts that I've having recently is about the title of my travel diary and a logo to go with it. Since I aim to write a travel diary, maybe record a videoblog, I want to make sure I have a good name. I'm thinking something simple, such as 'Sam Travels'. I've got time to keep thinking about it. And of course I'm open to advice and ideas.


I went for a meal on the Dira last night. Me and Ailie joined Sebastian, Ben and Ken on the yacht. It was a lovely evening. We had a few beers, some lovely cheese crepes, filleted dorado with courgette and peaches and chocolate for dessert. We had some wonderful conversation. The lads have been invited to ours for dinner on Thursday night. We're thinking of cooking mexican style. Chilli, fajita's, potato wedges, salad. I'm looking forward to it.

A Mini Reflection of 2011

A short round-up of my life in 2011.

Started seeing someone.
Got new job.
Moved house.
Stopped seeing someone.
Lots to do with the visiting film crew.
Annoyed by stalker behaviour of ex.
Annoyed by absent father.
Got better and better at my new job.
Was ill, had a week of work.
Moved house again.
Still annoyed by stalker behaviour of ex.
Had a couple of parties.
Enjoyed Christmas (don't tell anyone - I'm the grinch).
Enjoyed my birthday (don't tell anyone - I'm a birthday grinch).
Got to go on a yacht.
Great New Years Eve party.

I'm looking forward to 2012.

Puddings are a Way of Life

Why is it fine dining comes with desserts but not puddings?
Desserts can be ok. They're all right. But I like a proper pudding. Now maybe it's the Yorkshire in me, but there's nothing better than a good rhubarb crumble, or apple pie. A decent bread and butter pudding satisfies wonderfully. As does rice pudding. Good thick rice pudding, with that layer of skin that few people like, so I get it all to myself.

I made a lovely apple and rhubarb pudding just the other week. I'm no Delia Smith or Jamie Oliver. I make a decent ham sandwich and an edible chilli. But I do make some damn good puddings, if I do say so myself. It's Christmas and as usual I'm going to be stuck with fruit cake (that I don't like) and fancy desserts.

Time to pick some more rhubarb and make some more crumble I reckon.

Scrumptious.