Oh my! Well, there have been lots of changes buzzing around me since I last posted - many aeons ago - and I would first and foremost like to apologise for my lack of presence. It has been pretty busy to say the least.
Since we last spoke, I have changed my career path a little. While still a writer - of course, that's not really a 'career' as much as a 'calling' - I am no longer working as an editor but now with a talent agency. A wonderful job, it has to be said, with all sorts of glitterati conversations to be had. But I have been told off for name-dropping, so I will try my hardest not to...
Anyway, I thought I would check in briefly today to say that I am back at it here: I intend to keep on top of updating and keeping in touch with my usual London-inspired musings.
Keep your eyes peeled :)
- Ann Observer
Monday 24 August 2009
Tuesday 9 June 2009
Autobiographicalacation
Obviously, 'autobiographicalacation' is not a real word. But it sounds quite nice, and isn't that what writing, for the most part, is about? To break it to you, there's no such thing as a 'heffalump' either...
My first follower has highlighted the absence of an introduction to myself here at London Crush Hour. My apologies - at first, I thought better than to bore you with details of myself. But, now that I think about it, it might well be interesting for you to know a little more about me.
A Cambridge graduate, with an adoration for communication, observation and general ridiculousness, I moved to the country's capital in October last year. Not the greatest move, some might say, especially considering the crushing problems the Recession has set across every major city in the world: but my move nonetheless.
Being forced to reconsider my options as I received my first redundancy two months' into my first "real" job, I decided that I wasn't really looking for money. And so I have followed the dream - although it keeps me on a relatively shoe-string budget. I am now working for a publishing house based in Kensington: glamorous, I like to think. I am formally employed as an editor (with its fair share of writing and ghostwriting, of course!) and work in my dream environment.
Personal life? Well, we all have our kinks :) I'm a dater but not a relationshipist - partly because I can't find anyone mad enough to actually commit to something more serious. I follow the Epicurean philosophy of enjoying myself as much as possible but never at the detriment of others - a practice which took a little while to perfect, but now I'm there.
And, well, that's me in a nutshell really.
As I said to open - this blog is about social observation and commentary. London is so vibrant and so full of different people in different walks of life - when the only life you can ever live is your own, surely you should keep your mind open to even begin to understand those of others.
- Ann Observer
My first follower has highlighted the absence of an introduction to myself here at London Crush Hour. My apologies - at first, I thought better than to bore you with details of myself. But, now that I think about it, it might well be interesting for you to know a little more about me.
A Cambridge graduate, with an adoration for communication, observation and general ridiculousness, I moved to the country's capital in October last year. Not the greatest move, some might say, especially considering the crushing problems the Recession has set across every major city in the world: but my move nonetheless.
Being forced to reconsider my options as I received my first redundancy two months' into my first "real" job, I decided that I wasn't really looking for money. And so I have followed the dream - although it keeps me on a relatively shoe-string budget. I am now working for a publishing house based in Kensington: glamorous, I like to think. I am formally employed as an editor (with its fair share of writing and ghostwriting, of course!) and work in my dream environment.
Personal life? Well, we all have our kinks :) I'm a dater but not a relationshipist - partly because I can't find anyone mad enough to actually commit to something more serious. I follow the Epicurean philosophy of enjoying myself as much as possible but never at the detriment of others - a practice which took a little while to perfect, but now I'm there.
And, well, that's me in a nutshell really.
As I said to open - this blog is about social observation and commentary. London is so vibrant and so full of different people in different walks of life - when the only life you can ever live is your own, surely you should keep your mind open to even begin to understand those of others.
- Ann Observer
Blindness
Can you imagine how frustrating it is to be blind in London?
This thought comes after overhearing a conversation on a Eastbound District Line tube yesterday during the rush-hour home.
The gentleman who sat opposite me was speaking with his interlocuter about an exhibition he is currently working on for what I think is the Natural History Museum ("more people come to us than to the zoo because at least our animals are out and there and not running away into corners"). His job, as far as I ascertained, was to bring in different 'test' groups to judge reactions to an exhibition - his current 'test' group was a group of people of varying disabilities. He was commenting on how an exhibition such as the one he was working on would have little to no appeal to, say, a blind person - and that there was currently nothing in the exhibition to include someone in that state.
Just the thought is fascinating to me. Think of all the things that frustrate you in London - cabbies not stopping at zebra crossings, tourists whirling around to look for their friends, people stopping dead in the middle of the pavement for no apparant reason. I can only imagine how difficult such things must be to deal with if you can't see them. Add in the constant roar of noise and chatter and traffic and more: the buzz must be deafening when your senses are heightened.
But then take away the opportunity to participate in the rest of life here. The capital is buzzing with things to see and do - but when you take away anything which offers visual stimulation, everything must seem so... strained. Art galleries and museums, each with their 'do not cross the line' policies, offer little.
The gentleman on the train suggested that the exhibition organisers would have to have something to offer people who might not be able to see what was on show: textures, perhaps, braille explanations or embossed images to help recreate the image. It's something I've never thought about - never had to think about. Most certainly something I will keep an eye out for in future.
- Ann Observer
This thought comes after overhearing a conversation on a Eastbound District Line tube yesterday during the rush-hour home.
The gentleman who sat opposite me was speaking with his interlocuter about an exhibition he is currently working on for what I think is the Natural History Museum ("more people come to us than to the zoo because at least our animals are out and there and not running away into corners"). His job, as far as I ascertained, was to bring in different 'test' groups to judge reactions to an exhibition - his current 'test' group was a group of people of varying disabilities. He was commenting on how an exhibition such as the one he was working on would have little to no appeal to, say, a blind person - and that there was currently nothing in the exhibition to include someone in that state.
Just the thought is fascinating to me. Think of all the things that frustrate you in London - cabbies not stopping at zebra crossings, tourists whirling around to look for their friends, people stopping dead in the middle of the pavement for no apparant reason. I can only imagine how difficult such things must be to deal with if you can't see them. Add in the constant roar of noise and chatter and traffic and more: the buzz must be deafening when your senses are heightened.
But then take away the opportunity to participate in the rest of life here. The capital is buzzing with things to see and do - but when you take away anything which offers visual stimulation, everything must seem so... strained. Art galleries and museums, each with their 'do not cross the line' policies, offer little.
The gentleman on the train suggested that the exhibition organisers would have to have something to offer people who might not be able to see what was on show: textures, perhaps, braille explanations or embossed images to help recreate the image. It's something I've never thought about - never had to think about. Most certainly something I will keep an eye out for in future.
- Ann Observer
Monday 8 June 2009
Sunshine Underground
Ah, a peek of sun in London! A sense of dread floods the commuter as he realises the consequence: an exceptionally uncomfortable tube journey ahead. Sweaty bodies pressed together in over-stuffed carriages, desperately attempting to get in for nine o’clock; a hot haze fills the small gaps of stagnant air, and the result of someone’s forgetting to put on deodorant begins to test the nostrils.
Oh, commuter! While it comes with its fair share of issues, the sunshine has the potential to bring all sorts of grace into your life! Think, for a moment, about those sultry sunshine fingers teasing the temptation of the vain and of the beautiful. The heat is an opportunity to naturally top up that St Tropez tan: out creep the strappy dresses, the smooth bare legs. The hair is swept up to expose long necks and jutting clavicals, begging for attention. Breasts in ill-fitting bras wobble as the train jerks to one side or grinds to a begrudged halt as it pulls into the station.
And ladies, the chances are there for you too. The gents choose this time to wear the T-shirts they washed at ninety-degrees; in preparation for their topless moments, the muscles are pumped, toned, edging out of fraying sleeves. Flex after flex, those biceps tighten as the train changes speed: I often watch them clench and wish to bite the tender flesh as it oozes from the edge of the material.
The sunshine commute shouldn’t just be about sticky skin and Boris’ attempts to make us a closer city community. The heat brings out the subtle features we love, and the tube is the greatest way to watch those features in action. Sometimes, you have to bite down the surging bile when you get to an overcrowded platform: see this journey as a way to enjoy the nicest body parts of the sex you are attracted to. And feel free to compliment, or at least smile acknowledgingly. There is nothing to be ashamed about in admiring someone – people dress for attention. You’d be surprised how you can make someone’s day with a nod of appreciation...
- Ann Observer
Oh, commuter! While it comes with its fair share of issues, the sunshine has the potential to bring all sorts of grace into your life! Think, for a moment, about those sultry sunshine fingers teasing the temptation of the vain and of the beautiful. The heat is an opportunity to naturally top up that St Tropez tan: out creep the strappy dresses, the smooth bare legs. The hair is swept up to expose long necks and jutting clavicals, begging for attention. Breasts in ill-fitting bras wobble as the train jerks to one side or grinds to a begrudged halt as it pulls into the station.
And ladies, the chances are there for you too. The gents choose this time to wear the T-shirts they washed at ninety-degrees; in preparation for their topless moments, the muscles are pumped, toned, edging out of fraying sleeves. Flex after flex, those biceps tighten as the train changes speed: I often watch them clench and wish to bite the tender flesh as it oozes from the edge of the material.
The sunshine commute shouldn’t just be about sticky skin and Boris’ attempts to make us a closer city community. The heat brings out the subtle features we love, and the tube is the greatest way to watch those features in action. Sometimes, you have to bite down the surging bile when you get to an overcrowded platform: see this journey as a way to enjoy the nicest body parts of the sex you are attracted to. And feel free to compliment, or at least smile acknowledgingly. There is nothing to be ashamed about in admiring someone – people dress for attention. You’d be surprised how you can make someone’s day with a nod of appreciation...
- Ann Observer
Saturday 6 June 2009
Welcome! (at last...)
Welcome to London Crush Hour!
Finally, it is time for the first blog. I have been wanting to post here for a few days - unfortunately, event after event has kept me away from managing to make my first blog post. The pinnacle of this was the unexpected meltdown of my dear laptop, Warrick. May he rest in peace - now my full hard-drive has been taken off it...
So, what is this about? In difference to my other blogs - full of bitching and bitter complaining about irrelevances - London Crush Hour is more of a place for London social commentary.
There will be plenty of goings on here, so keep an eye out. You never know, you could be one of those commuters I have something to say about...
Ann Observer
x
Finally, it is time for the first blog. I have been wanting to post here for a few days - unfortunately, event after event has kept me away from managing to make my first blog post. The pinnacle of this was the unexpected meltdown of my dear laptop, Warrick. May he rest in peace - now my full hard-drive has been taken off it...
So, what is this about? In difference to my other blogs - full of bitching and bitter complaining about irrelevances - London Crush Hour is more of a place for London social commentary.
There will be plenty of goings on here, so keep an eye out. You never know, you could be one of those commuters I have something to say about...
Ann Observer
x
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