Cold calling

Junk PPI calls made to a contract phone belonging to a teenager are really not going to make anyone any commission. How many insane conversations do unlucky call centre people need to have before the whole scheme is abandoned as a big fat waste of time?

Today in the UK, 47% of 12-15 year olds have a smart phone. So just under half of every junk phone call made at random to people who have not been in an accident in the last 12 months or accidentally purchased PPI ever in their lives will probably be answered by a teenager who, on average will have far more disposable time on his hands than your average call centre worker on minimum wage.

Teenagers are energetic and fun and full of imagination. As a collective, they possess the ability to think up dozens of creative ways of wasting the time of call centre people. These include:

• Agree that PPI has been mis-sold to you at some point in the past, become distraught and weep down the phone.

• Agree that PPI has been mis-sold to you at some point in the past and then become enraged and shout a lot.

• Ask call centre person how their day is going and what qualifications they got in high school.

• Pretend to speak fluent French and not understand English.

• Pretend to only speak Minion.

• Tell the cold call centre person to 'hold the line please' then mute the speaker for at least 30 seconds. Un-mute to reassure call centre person that their call is important to you and you will be available to speak shortly. Mute once more. Repeat.

• Pretend to fart down the phone.

• Try to order a pepperoni pizza.

• Ask to speak to your friend 'Ryan' at the next desk. (You know Ryan... Yes you do - Ryan! At the next desk along from you! Opposite you then... What - he's not in today then? No, he DOES work there- I spoke to him yesterday... Stop messing with me mate, I NEED to speak to him, Pleeassee!!)

• Pretend to be hit by a car mid-sentence. Have nearby friends scream and call for help.

• Pretend to be deaf and pass your phone to a mate who will adopt one of the call centre handling approaches as detailed above.

I am torn between feeling proud of my teenager's ingenuity, annoyance at the call centre company who invaded his privacy, puzzled that the whole thing was ever considered a sound business model and sympathy for Ryan - who probably did quite well in school and has targets to meet. And probably a massive wad of student debt as well.

Not cooking

For someone who finds cooking such a hassle the word cloud suggests I go on about it. Except this isn't really cooking because it involves chocolate and sweet stuff and all things delicious and bad for you.

I have been reliably informed that- and I quote: These are lush. More people need to know how to make them. Can I have one now and one in my lunchbox? (Jackson, 11)

I also wish to increase the revenue for dentists everywhere because they train forever and have to work in such cramped conditions.

1: Mars bar cake

Ingredients
• Multi pack of 6x mars bars - or Tesco / Lidl equivalent
• Small pack of digestive biscuits
• Big dob of butter - about 1/3 or a pack should do
• 2 handfuls of mini marshmallows
• Family bar of milk chocolate
• Sprinklies / grated chocolate to finish if required

Method
• Cut up mars bars into diddy pieces
• Melt butter and chuck mars bar bits in
• Mush up for 30-40 seconds then remove from heat
• Add biscuits and scrunch them up into mixture
• Transfer to greased baking tray and push down with back of spoon
• Tidy up / faff around on Facebook for half an hour
• Melt chocolate in microwave then spread on top
• Sprinkle marshmallows over it
•  (Optional) Decorate with further melted chocolate whizzed back and forth off the back of a spoon. Or rainbow sprinklies. Or edible glitter.

Notes

• With thanks to Elisa who first shared this with me (except she also uses syrup somewhere)

• Create a mint version of this by adding a ground up extra strong mint to the biscuit mixture then finish off with mint chocolate on top
• For added entertainment, make this with a child and give them the chocolatey spoon & bowl to lick clean. Then take photos when they're not looking.

2: Marshmallow cake

Ingredients

• Family pack marshmallows

• 6 toffees

• Big dob of butter

• 1/3 packet of rice crispies or cornflakes
• Sprinkles / similar to decorate

Method

• Melt butter

• Add toffees

• Add marshmallows

• When the mixture looks like clouds, add the cereal

• Mix

• Transfer to greased tray
• Decorate with sprinkles / popping candy (optional)
• Wait until cool before eating (optional - see below)

Notes

• Use chewits instead of toffee to create fruit salad, strawberry or blackcurrent varieties

• I once came very close to vomiting purely due to the overconsumption of this. I am not proud. I started nibbling it while it was still warm and hadn't even gone solid yet. Then it was just THERE in my kitchen and delicious.
• Only make if planning a social function - unless you have more self control than me

The End

Hay fever

J: I wish I could stop blowing my nose. It's just annoying!

Me: I know... It's amazing how much snot can fit up there in a confined space.

J: Maybe it's a portal to another dimension.

Seeing red

'Open your eyes and then open your eyes again' (Terry Pratchett)

After my last optician's appointment I spent an interesting 60 minutes wandering around town waiting for the fluorescein dye that had been dripped into my eyeballs to drain out of my head again. As instructed I didn't put another set of lenses in until an hour had passed. As not instructed, I didn't bring my glasses so had nothing to correct my naturally rubbish vision until the hour was up. I had a brief, uncomplicated to-do list, enough loyalty stamps for a free Coffee#1 and the resolve not to waste any time just because my whole world had temporarily been Gaussian blurred. I would just take my time. And only cross the road if I was really sure nothing was coming.

The whole process went remarkably smoothly. I selected a few little birthday presents for Madi, posted a parcel for work and stocked up on hair dye, toothbrushes and sellotape. I didn't walk by and ignore anyone I know (I don't think) and crossed the road twice without get hit by anything. Before long an hour and 10 minutes had passed. Yay! I used the bathroom of the coffee shop to put in a new set of lenses, exchanged my voucher for a free latte and started reading one of Madi's new books while I drank it. Within a few pages I realised the book was too old for her but decided Jackson would like it instead, and even if he didn't, I absolutely loved it and would carry on reading it.

I walked home, appreciating the renewed detail in my life again and feeling vaguely accomplished- I haven't set foot outside my own front door since the age of 11 without glasses or contact lenses, so completing a to-do list (however un-demanding) while wearing neither of these AND not being squished by a bus is a really cool thing.

The book I didn't give to Madi is called The Giver and after finishing it, I thought back to how poorly I could see when selecting it from the shelf in WH Smith, my nose 3" away from the back cover as I read the blurb... (Spoiler alert - stop reading this now and read the book instead!)

The story concerns 12 year old Jonas, who lives a seemingly utopian life in his Community. Life is uncomplicated and peaceful and like everyone else in the Community, his choices in life are overseen by the Elders who ensure the smooth function of society by means of restricting variation, referred to as Sameness. Early on in the book, Jonas describes a strange incident that happens while he and a friend are chucking an apple back and forth between themselves: the apple momentarily changes appearance while in mid-air. This happens repeatedly, but only fleetingly and Jonas lacks the words to describe it accurately. Later on in the book after a few similar experiences, his mentor, The Giver, works out what is happening to him: Jonas is beginning to see the colour red.

The people of the Community can only see in black and white. The peace and structure that Sameness brings has cost them many things, including their perception of colour.

How tragic. This is one of the reasons why Madi would hate this book. And one of the things that fascinated Jackson and compelled him to keep reading until waaaayy past his bedtime then appear in our bedroom at midnight, clutching Mr President and announcing he was too sad to sleep.

So... in our world we do have colour. And millions of people around the globe have their world brought into focus everyday with prescription glasses or contact lenses or laser surgery. After my blurry 70 minutes in town the other day I am even more thankful for access to trained optometrists and the means to correct our view of everything.

But what if, as per the inhabitants of the Community, there is actually more to our surroundings than the way most people perceive them? Just suppose that 20/20 vision is actually not perfect eyesight after all? What if there's depth and vibrancy and substance to everyday life that is on display constantly - but only for those who want to open their eyes and see it? Just say God is intrinsically involved in the world he created and loves and his fingerprints are really actually everywhere? Like a kid who's been painting and wanders off and touches stuff without washing his hands - leaving traces wherever he goes.

This changes everything.

Jesus then said, 'I came into the world to bring everything into the clear light of day, making all the distinctions clear, so that those who have never seen will see, and those who have made a great pretence of seeing will be exposed as blind.' (John 9:38-40)

Neo: Why do my eyes hurt?

Morpheus: Because you've never used them before. (The Matrix)

Open our eyes open our eyes open our eyes, Amen Xxx

Time management

All that is not eternal is eternally out of date. (CS Lewis)

This folder is the culmination of about 6 months work. Most projects we do generate a folder like this (in corporate orange - hello), divided into sections such as hotels, speakers, exhibition, programme and anything else we're asked to get involved in. As a conference approaches, the Orange Folder steadily fills up with bits of paper as information becomes available and finalised documents replace draft versions of things. By the time the meeting starts it is a complete summary of the next few days of my life and I would be totally stranded without it. We have digital versions of everything - but I need a tangible thing to hold in my hands and flick through - because it's far easier and more comforting to be able to hold the information in both hands. The Orange Folder becomes the event Bible, and must be accessible all the time.

Then the conference takes place. Large volumes of people gather in one place. A flurry of activity ensues. Then everyone goes home again. And a really weird thing happens - the Orange Folder becomes redundant.

The care and attention it has previously enjoyed is withdrawn - practically overnight. It returns home to a cupboard in the office alongside other summaries of events gone by, all waiting patiently for a day when they might be selected from the shelf and referred to once more. The Orange Folder, fresh from duty is likely confused at this sudden abandonment: Why is no one picking me up to arrange and re-arrange my contents? What happened to all the flicking through me 10 times a day to access my secrets?! Are you honestly telling me NO ONE needs to know which symposia will be held in which room, when the sponsors can run through their slides or who is still to submit a travel claim? What about how many Gala dinner meals need to be vegetarian, pescatarian, halal or under no circumstances contain peanuts?? No, no no - don't shut the cupboard door...!

But of course, no one cares now. After the dinner's over, no one needs to know what the final numbers were (which, incidentally, 10% of people won't show up for and at least one person will spontaneously develop / abandon a vegetarian lifestyle because they've just seen the alternative at another table...).

Isn't that weird? How can something go from being indispensable to recyclable in a matter of days? Time is such a fickle thing.

Or is it MORE weird that I even think about this stuff - because the alternative would involve a realm of no past or future - only the all consuming now. A fluid existence not framed by the passing of days and weeks and years, but something beyond the boundaries of experience or vocabulary or imagination. A place where the Orange Folder is always important or isn't needed at all...

What if we lived in immortality, like the wormhole prophets in DS9? Having never experienced linear existence, they need the alien concept of 'time' explained to them - and even then consider the whole thing to be unstable, unpredictable and quite frankly rather bizarre ('You mean you value your ignorance of what is to come???').

I'm with the Wormhole Prophets.
And CS Lewis.
(Who, to be fair, was plagiarising St Peter)
But until then I'm working on the contents of the next Orange Folder.

But don’t forget this one thing, dear friends: To the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is like a day. (2 Peter 3:8)

Life begins (Part 2)

1: Waxing gives higher levels of smoothness than any razor could ever hope to achieve, regardless of whatever revolutionary triple-bladed technology involved.

2: After successfully waxing ones legs ONCE you may foolishly assume you are experienced enough to tackle other 'sensitive' areas.

3: This is a lie.

4: It is possible to be in so much pain that little white lights swirl before your eyes and you forget to breathe.

5: Screaming loudly in a communal shower block scares small children. Soundlessly mouthing obscenities and pacing in circles is recommended instead.

6: Body hair may be ripped out in smaller sections than the size of available waxing paper. Just CUT the waxing paper into smaller strips before you begin.

7: If all fingertips and both thumbs become covered in wax and pubes, abandon procedure and call for reinforcements.

8: A good friend will not mock you for poor hair removal decisions. She will help you tidy up and provide wine.

Standing up for poultry

Near the end of church on Sunday Loz had several words / pictures for people. I only remember one of them:
• A cartoon chicken with poppy eyes.
• Maybe you feel a bit ridiculous?
• Sunshine.
• God says 'Be pleased with how I have made you'.

I hear this and type it into my phone as Loz says it, thinking Haha- Oh God, this is me! I can see a picture of the chicken immediately. It looks like this:



I know some of the things I say and think are a bit mental - but I like that I see life this way. I don't want to change it. And if I am ridiculous or if other people think I am then I don't actually care. I'm pleased with how you've made me. I like being a chicken, God - Thank you xx

I'm caught up in this and kind of laughing about it in my head when I realise Loz is asking people to stand up if one of the prophecies resonated with them and I'm like, Uh oh - Stand up?!? Even if I don't mind being ridiculous? Even if I embrace my chickenness? Do I still get up even then? Argh.... I should have been paying attention better. Poultry have shocking attention spans. We really do. We're like goldfish. I don't even know what to say to whoever comes over. Clearly it would make sense to mention the chicken thing. But I'll also feel compelled to tell them I don't mind being ridiculous. If they think that - maybe they don't. I can't presume anyone thinks ANYTHING cause who knows what someone else really thinks inside the privacy of their own head? And I'm really happy with who God's made me to be thankyouverymuch so don't worry about that and - oh crap - that could be really insensitive, couldn't it? What if whoever comes over is struggling with who they are inside their own skin and I'm all like 'Well I'm completely happy with who I was made to be thanks' - what then? Unless of course it's someone I don't know that well. Then they wouldn't expect me to know. Or maybe someone I DO know well but just not about their struggles and... that's more likely actually. Because a lot of stuff passes me by completely. It's not that I don't care - I'm just not that observant. Or imaginative about what other people might be feeling / thinking. I have enough to think about keeping my own brain in order without trespassing in someone else's mind. I just don't want to be accidentally arrogant. 

Or is it MORE arrogant to sit on my backside and not stand up because God's talking to me because actually that's what this is probably about right now and I always need prayer so if it's directly offered I don't say no because that's a reeeeaaaallly stupid thing to do... 

By this time I'm concluding, OK, It's definitely more arrogant to sit if God's nudging you to stand because God matters more than other people, right? So standing up IS more appropriate right now, OK that's fine, of course that's FINE... but the runaway monologue in my brain has taken some time and so I'm ALSO thinking, But I'm an all or nothing chicken! I don't do mediocrity. I should have been on my feet immediately and I can't stand up NOW having fannied around and argued about it first. What kind of chicken would do that? A chickeny chicken - that's what!!

Then I can hear God smirking at me and I get all indignant and say What's so funny?!? and he's like 'If you're sooooo comfortable and don't care what people think then why you still sat on your bum exactly?' And I'm laughing too because I'm completely overthinking the whole thing and now trying to kid on that standing up in front of a room full of people when no one else is responding is not freaking me out. But hey ho, You win! I love you and - I'm doing it, I'm standing now just watch me get UP.... when Loz asks us all to stand and the moment is gone.

And then we get into little groups and pray for each other anyway. And we sing. And church ends. And I drink coffee and chat to people. And forget ALL about the chicken thing. I drink more coffee and speak to more people. And K's locking up so I'm not rushing off anywhere. And then I'm passing a little group of people and Loz kind of locks eyes with me and he's like 'Hey Jen- You ok?' and in an instant it all floods back to me and I'm like, 'Yeah really good- And the chicken thing was me!'

And he knew it was.
And I told him I don't care if I'm ridiculous.
And he reminded me of the sunshine thing.
Because that was really important too.
This is why I love my church.

James 5:15-16
Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other

I am a slow learner. Sorry Loz. You heard correctly. There was a chicken in the room. I hope you weren't discouraged today Xxx

Playing by the rules

Three or four times a year the kids get out the Monopoly board and we start a game that will involve all of us having dinner scrunched up at one end of the kitchen table for 3 evenings in a row, regular accusations of corruption against the banker, a few tears and at least one major argument. The game will end after a gradual slide into destitution as I slowly haemorrhage all my possessions to the eventual winner (which by the way, is never me).

It's interesting to see how the kids' personalities play out as the game progresses:

E: Rules are rules are rules. They are there for a reason. They make the game function. What's the point of playing it if you're going to show compassion? This is futile. It only prolongs the inevitable (and delays my rise to absolute power!! Mwahhhh haawhh haaaaaawhh...)

J: Lighten UP. Rules are a guide- a framework, if you will. It's people that are important. Playing the game should be fun. If you have to pay that massive bill then you'll loose Piccadilly and Coventry Street and be sad, so why not just pay me HALF the money and let me have some bubble gum bottles from your secret junk drawer instead? Oh - and if there's going to be an atmosphere about all this then I'll be in the garden playing football...

M: But I like the rules. If we aren't playing properly, then I won't play. Oh, unless you want to show me a little bit of leniency. Then that's OK- because I am the youngest.

The whole purpose of the game is to win, and to have a winner, everyone else must loose. Without an imbalance of power, there IS no game. Which is why I hate Monopoly. But because we play it so infrequently, my memory recovers well enough to convince me that it wasn't really that bad and we're teaching life skills like risk taking, conflict resolution, losing gracefully, blah blah blah, plus we need something to do on happy family no gadget Wednesdays that involves us all being in the same room of the house. Then the whole process repeats itself from the start and I realise once again: Yep - I really do hate this game.

There comes a point, no matter what chance card you pick or how the dice falls, the event horizon of bankruptcy has been crossed and there is no going back. From now on the future involves only Foodbank vouchers, zero hours contracts and eventually dying alone in a damp bedsit, perhaps covered in your own vomit.

The game starts off so fairly, doesn't it? Everyone starts off with the same amount of money.  The iron, dog and top hat all receive the same amount of money for passing GO. The same opportunities for success exist equally for all, yet the outcome is always a situation that is very unequal- although supposedly fun to play.

Does life imitate art or vice versa? Do I have issues with Monopoly or the values it stands for? Because the game has been going on for real since forever and we start playing as soon as we arrive - even if we'd rather play football in the garden or wander off to the toilet and forget to come back to the kitchen table or (me only) rearrange all the cupboards in the entire house then post the photos to Buzzfeed.

Except in the real game there is no level playing field anymore. There are no equal opportunities - start up capital sums vary and property portfolios are often predetermined at birth. There is no set amount for passing GO- each person receives a different amount that reflects their market value. Because some people are inherently more valuable than others, right?

Race, gender, income, education, background - all kinds of things influence the gameplay. Some people are naturally predisposed to wealth or power and the game belongs to the wealthy and powerful. Some people live their whole lives waiting to roll the dice. The article here explores what the Monopoly rules would look like if applied today in the USA alone. Factor in global wealth statistics and the game rules only get more skewed. It's so weird. Every one of us being born into a time and place and situation that we have NO control over. How is that fair?

And how do we play the game fairly now that we're here? Fulfilling the responsibilities of adulthood, enjoying whatever rewards genetics, IQ and geography bring and sharing our (sometimes limited) resources based on the priority of need - without being embittered by what what other people have or immobilised by guilt about what we have or frustrated by the apathy of those who could really make a difference if they wanted to.

It must be possible to live here yet not be tainted by the system. To be in the world but not conform to it. Jesus managed it. He spent his whole life doing so and was eventually killed for it as the system was SO unjust it couldn't cope with him. The culture and context changes, but the same game plays on. And while the rules are still enforced by the powerful, we can learn stuff from the way he approached the rules while he was here:

Jesus made religious people mad by refusing to condemn a woman to death who'd been caught in adultery, telling the crowd, 'Let him who has never sinned throw the first stone.' One by one they dropped their stones and left. The religious people liked their rules. They liked catching people out who had broken the rules. But they chose which rules to follow and which rules to ignore (where was the man she was caught with??) Jesus knew all about the rules but loved people more than being right. He knew all the rules the religious guys had broken too - and exposed their hypocrisy.
• Love people more than rules

One time his friends were challenged about paying taxes to Caesar. Jesus instructed them to fish in the nearby waters and the money would be found inside the mouth of a fish. And it was - they were given what they needed at the point where they needed it. Jesus didn't make a direct stand against the taxation system (he could have done) - but used the situation to teach about God's ability to provide.
• God is bigger than the rules

Another time he advised some people that 'If one of the occupying troops forces you to carry his pack for one mile, carry it two miles.' This sounds like caving in to power, but was actually an act of quiet rebellion. A first century Palestinian could be forced to carry a soldier's supplies for one mile- but making anyone carry the weight further than this was forbidden and resulted in disciplinary action. Jesus wasn't being submissive - he was showing people a way to flip the rules back onto the rule makers and exploit them to their advantage.
• Make a stand against unfair rules

He didn't really have a permanent residence. He travelled loads- always surrounded by people. Someone once declared he would follow Jesus anywhere, to which he replied 'Foxes have dens, the birds have nests, but I have nowhere to lie down and rest.' He didn't have much stuff because stuff wasn't that important to him.
• Using the rules to acquire lots of stuff is not a good use of time

The longest recorded conversation we know about is between him and a Samaritan woman. This is massive. Hanging out with a woman? With a dodgy history? Who belongs to a people group we hate? This was beyond shocking. It was unimaginable. Things like this were never done - ever. 'Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you' he said.
• A rule that makes you hate someone is not a good rule. Ignore it.

Hmmm. Would Jesus rather play Monopoly or football or organise a cupboard? (One of these activities -my favourite one- has no rules at all).