Internship Vs. Research

The past two days have seen the rise of my internship and what a wonderful two days it has been. I really do enjoy starting out something new, adventures are always fun.

Monday and Tuesday of this week have been spent figuring out if I can pass what I will lovingly dub ‘the idiot test’. If you can imagine spending two days doing the most menial, albeit non-insulting, tasks imaginable dressed up as matters that tell-all of your future success within the role you have the idea.

Tasks include: Making tea, filing, and finding various bits and bobs hiding in nooks and crannies. Trust me, it could be worse….

Um, How About No?

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Night of the Living Ex

My very first boyfriend, from years ago, has recently split up with his missus of about 3 or 4 years...who has he turned to for conversation and pro-active advice?

Me.

Who wanted nothing to do with the whole mess?

Me.

Now, I'll be honest, that it was not a good relationship and I did an amazing job of compartmentalising it and dealing with it in a healthy way. It was definitely a case of pat-on-the-back me. No need to open that can of worms and re-hash everything I so carefully put behind me.

Tonight I bullied into a taking a phone call from Ex No. 1. An hour of apologies and explanations later, I have to say, I'm worse for it. He picked apart every lie and manipulation he ever set on me in the course of this elaborate apology and with that, my tenuous relationship with trusting men is shattered for awhile. I wasn't aware of how deep the malady had run between us. I really had no idea how much I was pushed and prodded, moulded and twisted, in short - manipulated.

No one likes to hear, 'Yea, I lied to you about cheating on you to make you jealous so that you would come back to me.' or 'I knew that if I encouraged you to like art, you'd be more interesting to introduce to my friends as "My girlfriend, the artist" rather than, "My girlfriend, the business major."'

Terrifying to hear these things. There was more of course, apparently drug abuse and accusing his competition for my affections of taking drugs.

Truthfully, given my track record, I'm less concerned with what happened and my ability to discern good character from bad. Granted I was nearly 19 and very naive, so, maybe we'll let Ex No. 1 slide as a very big foray into the learning curve (I had to play catch up, most girls had their first boyfriend around 15 or something, back when I still had braces, no boobs and a bubble butt...oh, and Harry Potter glasses. Oh yea, teenage heartbreaker - that wasn't me.)

But the past two years have been really hard on me in the relationship department, if I'm being completely honest, they've been a lot harder than I care to admit and will not go into, as a matter of fact, blogging about it is rather cathartic, but selfish, I don't think many people will want to read about it, however, here it is.

It's been two years of hitting the 'replay' function. Not my best decisions - I have found that if a guy has been cruel or selfish towards me once, it's likely it will re-assert itself again at some point, and in all honesty, most of the past two years I've been bracing for the replay relationship to destruct the same way as before.

Tonight was horrible. What little bit of self-delusion I'd clung to concerning my strength in the face of manipulation is gone, added bonus, I'm not game for investing myself into another person.

I joke around about two things with a certain amount of frequency with Cocker Spaniel and Afghan Hound - that I have an empty half of my double bed that I aspire to fill. (And they know I don't mean in the temporary-revolving-doors-new-man-every-night, any girl could do that if they wanted.)

The other thing I've been saying for years in response to the male joke, 'Everyone knows you can't trust a creature that bleeds for a week and doesn't die.'

To that I say, 'And everyone knows you can't trust a two-headed monster.'

Tonight I'm a disciple of the latter.

So much for progress. At least my career will never wake up one morning and decide to stop caring about me.

Direction at Last

I've been busy. A busy bee as it were. I've got an internship, a posh London furniture dealership wants a copy of my dissertation, said dissertation actually has direction now, and I'm applying for paid employment in exactly what I want to be doing after this course.

No, not professional shopping while drinking chocolate milkshakes without gaining an ounce.

I'm applying to work as an assistant cataloguer/junior expert in a paintings department, though the first job, if it existed, wouldn't be too bad...and I bet I'd be a natural.

So, I guess I'll update on these developments as they're all quite important, though I'm tempted to just write about how obsessed I am with French/Italian style of the 1960's. I actually forced my hairdresser to backcomb my hair yesterday before my interview. The poor man lives for poker straight hair and I told him to envision Brigitte Bardot. I cannot express the pained look on his face, you'd think I'd clipped hot tongs on his earlobes.

Though, that being said, when I flipped my hair back and shook it all out, that pained look went away and he said that if I'd agree to come in again, he'll style my hair for free if I let him practice getting volume into hair. (Yes, please!)

Ok, ok, I'll stop before I go into my questions such as, 'Does anyone understand the meaning of La Dolce Vita?' and 'Why don't men look like Alain Delon anymore?'

A-hem, I digress.

Now, as per what's been going on - I'll leave the internship where it stands. I've applied, interviewed (yesterday) and got the position.

Hopefully this one will work out.

Unlike the last one.

*grumble grumble murmur something potentially devastating to my career if heard or published online grumble grumble*

So, most things are pretty straightforward, more applications for jobs/work experiences after this course is over are all on the horizon. And finally, and I mean, finally I feel like I can give a straightforward answer as to what my dissertation is about rather than: 'Yea, uh, Raeburn. And, um, stuff - Scottish stuff. It's very fluid at the moment...'

I won't bore with the details as it's pretty narrow focus...

So, the most interesting story is why does Posh London Furniture Dealership (PLFD) want a copy of my dissertation - on a Scottish painter, for their files?

Well, on a lovely Wednesday afternoon, I happened to be near Bond Street, and remembered Cocker Spaniel was interning at PLFD that day and decided I should stop by and say hello. Cocker Spaniel's aunt was there visiting as well and it was so nice to see her, especially as her visit meant that we got to take a little tour of the shop. As we were about to go to the staircase, I looked at the painting hanging above someone's desk.

'Hmm, oh! It is a Raeburn. Go figure.'

'Do you know anything about Raeburn?'

And then I mighta geeked-out for a a few minutes and even explained exactly why their painting dated to when it did and Raeburn's typical background painting motifs.

'Wow, um, we just had the Raeburn expert in a few days ago - um, if it's no trouble, could we have a copy of dissertation when it's done? Here's my card. But, only if it's no trouble.'

'No trouble at all. Happy to do it.'

I glanced at the card and thought: Certainly not a problem Mr. Associate Director of PLFD - I'll send it over as soon as it's bound!!

Cocker Spaniel and I high-fived as soon as we were away from his desk. Gotta admit, with Cocker Spaniel and Afghan Hound so on the ball with their dissertations and internships, I often feel like I'm playing catch up, it was nice to bring something to the table of accomplishment at last. There is a certain mystique to being the comic relief for the group, but sometimes I like to show my academic muscle exists.

So, now, onwards and upwards I guess. Well, literally - off to the North on Monday morning...Edinburgh beckons. Hello Raeburns, archives, National Library of Scotland, Fringe Festival and Lion Tamer!!

A mixture of festival, friendship, and fan-fucking-tastic art.

Oh and research in the library and archives...like a grown up. *sigh*

I wish I could research and have a chocolate milkshake in the library. *narrows eyes* someday library - someday.