Instagram

I'm going to take time out from the usual blog subjects to talk about finally 'discovering' this app that seems to be all the rage.

In all honesty, Instagram was not an app I previously felt the need to get. I do have friends and acquaintances who are also signed up to it. I'm not gonna bang on that I 'didn't feel the need to follow the trend', because anyone who knows me knows what my online presence is like. I spend too much time on Facebook and Twitter, and back in the days of Myspace and (shudder) Bebo I was addicted to those too. Being owner of a smartphone - a pebble blue Samsung Galaxy SIII, no less - I finally got bored one sleepless night and decided that I would see what all the fuss was about.

For those of you who've been hiding in a cave since this app came into being, Matthew Inman of The Oatmeal summed it up perfectly in this comic, and the legends behind College Humor summed it up with this:

 


That's all it is. Just an app to take photos with, which was one of the things that put me off getting it in the first place anyway. Yes, you can add filters to enhance an image, make it look bleaker or brighter...and that's it. I won't lie, I've only really just gotten started on it in the last couple of days and I'm bored already. The first photo is just me in my Cookie Monster hat (which has been getting a lot of wear with the increasingly cold weather). This was the first photo I took, using a filter on my phone's camera:

 

Nice hat, eh? I know, I love it. You want one? You can buy it here, along with matching mittens (which I also have, although be warned - you can do bugger all wearing them. You'll at least be warm though). Then I decided I'd give it a try through Instagram. This is the orignal snap I took:




And here it is Instragrammed:




Yes, I do agree, it looks nice with that filter, although I look paler than usual. But to be honest, I couldn't tell you the filter I used on it because I genuinely can't tell half of them apart. There's at least two black and white ones, and three '70s / Polaroid looking ones, and that filter I used, as I said, was also one of three. They're not even just called 'black and white' or 'sepia'. Seems pointless. That said, I'll probably still use it just because I can. If anyone feels inclined to follow me, my username is 'wirhannah'.

Brrrr!

In recent years I have come to the conclusion that my new-found life as a city slicker has left me more susceptible to cold temperatures than ever before.

Tenement flats in Glasgow are the biggest culprits for crap insulation. I've lived in four since moving here (this one included) and every year it's been unbearably cold.

As for me, I'm still applying for jobs, still getting fed up with the market, still trying to get my finger out with regards to going back to uni. It's all a bit scary right now.

Yet more projects

It's been too long since I had an update that was worthwhile posting, so here we go again.

Basically, due to the restructure happening at The Paid Job, the hours have dried up significantly. As a result, money is very tight. I've usually well and truly started my Christmas shopping by this point but I've been entirely unable to. Therefore the driving lessons idea has gone up the swanny for now. They'll have to wait until the new year. Oh well.

I've also applied for a full time position with my paid job, in the hope that I can raise some money.

On top of this, I've finally started a couple of post grad applications for creative writing courses, and have also applied to the JET programme to go and teach English in Japan for a year. Fingers crossed, then.

Best Laid Plans

I know it's early yet, but this time last year I had a lot of plans for the year coming - two weddings, Folk Festival, Tom Petty (:D) and some other stuff. Now at this time, I currently have little if anything on the agenda.

I have, however, kept one new year's resolution, which was to finally replace my licence and sort driving lessons. Said lessons have yet to actually be booked - that will have to wait till next month - but I finally feel I'm making some headway on this front. I'm just hoping I don't make an arse of it.

But yeah - next year I have no plans.

Cancer is Cruel

So a mere couple of weeks after going back to Glasgow, following my summer holidays, I'm back in Shetland again. Not entirely by choice, and certainly not in good circumstances.

My lovely granddad, Peter - well, not biologically but certainly in every other way for as long as I remember - had been suffering from hip pains when I left. On Tuesday, less than a week after I'd left, he was in Aberdeen Royal Infirmary, having been diagnosed with lung cancer which had spread to his bones. The doctors hoped they could treat it, but it was clear from the outset that this would only be to slow it rather than cure it. However, on Saturday morning my mam phoned me at work to tell me he'd taken a bad turn in the night and passed away. He was 61.

As you can imagine, my heart is utterly broken. He'd been a huge part of my life for as long as I can remember, having married my granny when I was a toddler and the two of them being together until her death in 2001, and even after his eventual remarriage last year. And now I've started this entry yet still don't feel I can say everything I want to.

I've been in Shetland since Friday and the funeral was Saturday, and tomorrow I'll be back to Glasgow and trying to adjust to the fact that I'll never see him again.

Things to look forward to

Too often lately I've found myself in the depths of despair for no apparent reason other than it just being how it is.

I think a lot of it's due to physical exhaustion more than anything else, but I guess I'm just unhappy with a lot of life in general. As I've said to so many people on so many occasions, I didn't spend four years at university to do a menial job like the one I'm currently in. I'm also spending too much time alone, and what doesn't help is that so many people in my life are leaving for newer pastures. I find myself wondering if perhaps I should join them.

There's also been a long point of having little to look forward to. Now that the Tom Petty gig has been and gone, and both the weddings / trips home have been and gone, it's back to the grind for now. Back to being alone with my thoughts, dreams and physical possessions, back to working that shit menial job in order to survive, back to life, back to reality. Nothing concrete.

Therefore, I've decided - it's high time I try and get driving lessons.

At seventeen I was so excited that I was finally old enough to learn to drive. I bounded down to my local post office, collected my form and filled it out. Sure enough, that little mint green card with embossed gold DVLA holograms across it turned up in the post a day or so before my actual birthday, complete with one of the nicer passport photos taken of me over the years and along with its paper counterpart.

However, my parents never got round to putting me on the insurance until nearly 10 months later - by which time I was concentrating on finishing my final year of high school, saving what little money I had for university (although I wasn't entirely sure if I was going by that stage) and just generally not thinking of driving lessons at all. The little green card sat in my wallet for most of that time and was eventually used as ID for buying alcohol when I hit my 18th birthday (it was less bulky to carry around than my passport), eventually being overshadowed for this purpose by my student card (unless in the event of buying alcohol in a supermarket as a lot of them were a bit funny about student cards - then again, mine had my date of birth on it but no hologram).

As time went on, I forgot about driving. Even if I'd bothered to learn as a student I wouldn't have been able to afford to buy a car, never mind run one. During this time, the paper counterpart licence sat on the desk in mine and my sister's bedroom in my childhood home in Shetland - as it had no photo on it, I had no use for it, and because it was there I couldn't book driving lessons in Glasgow anyway. Eventually it vanished - mam and sister insist they never touched it, but if so then its disappearance is a mystery.

Then came graduation in 2010. I spent much of my time applying for work. I discovered that, to many employers - and particularly in the media industry, a lesser thing that killed my journalism dreams - prospective job candidates looked much better in pink than in green. I soon found that, when it comes to job hunts, few things are more irritating than finding a job that you tick most of the boxes for, only for the criteria to then end with '...must have full, clean drivers' licence and own transport'. Apparently telling them you're currently taking lessons can sometimes work. But given that even transportation to / from my current Paid Job is proving problematic due to the recent restructure (did I mention PLEASE SOMEONE HIRE MEEEEE) I feel it would only be sensible to learn to drive now. However, due to my paper licence being completely lost I now have to send off for a replacement - to to the tune of £20 (although this is cheaper than the £50 I was initially told it would cost). Have also decided to get my current address put on it too. As soon as this is done I will sort lessons. Been shopping around for deals, most folk seem to be recommending the AA.

Admittedly it will be probably be some time before I can afford a car, but there we have it...at least it'll look good on my CV, hey?

On jobhunts and homesickness

At the present moment, I have decided to dinghy the possibility of a post grad.

I was on holiday at home for the last couple of weeks, and while I was there a statement arrived from the Student Loans Company. Seems the interest on my as yet unpaid loan has now raised it to the tune of nearly £14,000. This, on top of an overdraft that has yet to be paid off in full, is putting me off the prospect of getting into any more debt than I presently need. I don't think I want to wait another 23 years to have it written off. I might just need to start buying lottery tickets...hell, it might happen!

Yeah, I was at home for a family wedding, and after that I barely realised just how little time I had. And also how homesick I was at the thought of leaving. I'm feeling a little better now that I'm actually in Glasgow, but I wish my trip to the homestead could have lasted a little longer. I still don't think I'd ever go back full time, though. Maybe just for a few weeks, until I got bored. Think I'll always need to be back in the city, even if the career isn't going right.

Speaking of which - I found no less than SEVEN jobs to apply for. Seven. In the space of a fortnight. Five were in Glasgow, one in Manchester and one in London (yes, I resorted to that). I've been knocked back for one so far, have yet to hear about the rest. But you just never know...