NEW new plans...
This is officially Failure-to-Communicate Week.
Apparently between Saturday and yesterday Bosslady did a complete overhaul of the Poop Deck's evening schedules and it left everyone including the head-wenches who are always there extremely confused. Luckily I and another kitchen wench whom I shall call Zara showed up, 'cause if we hadn't we wouldn't have been in any hot water due to having disappeared from the staff list, but Mare and Smee would have died during the unexpected dinner rush. So good karma and good tips headed my way from that little oopsie.
The next breakdown was between me and super awesome programme director e-mailing about meeting this week. Apparently her house was not content to sling down one section of roof upon her and her husband last year at the end of term, but slung down ANOTHER one last week and also decided to assassinate her internet connection. Stupid malevolent houses. But we have resolved to meet tomorrow morning, and it will no longer be a Scary Meeting of Doomy Doom Doom, as I have gone and taken some of her tips second-hand from a classmate who'd already had a pow-wow with her over organizing the diss. Feelin' good about it. Just would feel better with some final feedback from someone within the department, since Wonder Woman is off being amazing and internets-less in Canadia.
Today's slip-up was me getting accidentally dropped from the phone-tree when, also within the last two or three days, Selfridges decided to change the volunteer orientation timing for the Museum of Everything helper peeps like me, 'cause the only e-mail I'd gotten said 4 pm. The boycreature walked me down there and I found the staff entrance alright, but some stuffy be-suited woman at the security desk said it'd been going on since 2, got out at 5, and I was shit outta luck 'cause I didn't have clearance &tc 8\
At first I thought I may have just misread 14:00 as 4 o'clock, because sometimes I still go all dumb-American like that, but a few texts and an hour later I was assured by volunteer coordinator gal from MoE that it HAD been a big mix-up on their parts, and I was lucky to have missed the "induction" anyway, because it was mostly stuffy be-suited Selfridges peeps going over health-and-safety blah blah and nothing at all to do with the exhibition.
SO, I got a 15-minute personal tour, an information packet, and assurance that they would work with me on scheduling since I have ever-changing shift patterns :3 I like these guys.
The boycreature was annoyed on my behalf since they were the ones who screwed up and it caused me a bit of concern before it was clear it wasn't my mistake, but after having walked through Selfridges for the first time, and remembering what the MoE's Exhibition #3 and its venue were like, I can understand the museum peeps being frazzled. It's pretty much the most incongruous match-up of vendors in the history of ever - the space that from tomorrow will be hosting the MoE's little shop of odds 'n' ends, with their hand-lettered, children's playground chalk graffiti aesthetic, was today selling diamond-encrusted floral bracelets for a quarter of a million pounds and had the highest concentration of security per square meter that I have ever seen; employee security procedures are stricter than the most oppressive of airports. You need advance permission to wear a coat with pockets. A COAT. WITH POCKETS. G'damn.
I am so looking forward to seeing how the Cartier and Tiffany's crowd approaches and reacts to cardboard-and-plywood labyrinthine exhibitions of no-name artists, workshops for the developmentally disabled, and a complete and utter lack of diamond-encrusting or even gilding on any of the merch.
Apparently between Saturday and yesterday Bosslady did a complete overhaul of the Poop Deck's evening schedules and it left everyone including the head-wenches who are always there extremely confused. Luckily I and another kitchen wench whom I shall call Zara showed up, 'cause if we hadn't we wouldn't have been in any hot water due to having disappeared from the staff list, but Mare and Smee would have died during the unexpected dinner rush. So good karma and good tips headed my way from that little oopsie.
The next breakdown was between me and super awesome programme director e-mailing about meeting this week. Apparently her house was not content to sling down one section of roof upon her and her husband last year at the end of term, but slung down ANOTHER one last week and also decided to assassinate her internet connection. Stupid malevolent houses. But we have resolved to meet tomorrow morning, and it will no longer be a Scary Meeting of Doomy Doom Doom, as I have gone and taken some of her tips second-hand from a classmate who'd already had a pow-wow with her over organizing the diss. Feelin' good about it. Just would feel better with some final feedback from someone within the department, since Wonder Woman is off being amazing and internets-less in Canadia.
Today's slip-up was me getting accidentally dropped from the phone-tree when, also within the last two or three days, Selfridges decided to change the volunteer orientation timing for the Museum of Everything helper peeps like me, 'cause the only e-mail I'd gotten said 4 pm. The boycreature walked me down there and I found the staff entrance alright, but some stuffy be-suited woman at the security desk said it'd been going on since 2, got out at 5, and I was shit outta luck 'cause I didn't have clearance &tc 8\
At first I thought I may have just misread 14:00 as 4 o'clock, because sometimes I still go all dumb-American like that, but a few texts and an hour later I was assured by volunteer coordinator gal from MoE that it HAD been a big mix-up on their parts, and I was lucky to have missed the "induction" anyway, because it was mostly stuffy be-suited Selfridges peeps going over health-and-safety blah blah and nothing at all to do with the exhibition.
SO, I got a 15-minute personal tour, an information packet, and assurance that they would work with me on scheduling since I have ever-changing shift patterns :3 I like these guys.
The boycreature was annoyed on my behalf since they were the ones who screwed up and it caused me a bit of concern before it was clear it wasn't my mistake, but after having walked through Selfridges for the first time, and remembering what the MoE's Exhibition #3 and its venue were like, I can understand the museum peeps being frazzled. It's pretty much the most incongruous match-up of vendors in the history of ever - the space that from tomorrow will be hosting the MoE's little shop of odds 'n' ends, with their hand-lettered, children's playground chalk graffiti aesthetic, was today selling diamond-encrusted floral bracelets for a quarter of a million pounds and had the highest concentration of security per square meter that I have ever seen; employee security procedures are stricter than the most oppressive of airports. You need advance permission to wear a coat with pockets. A COAT. WITH POCKETS. G'damn.
I am so looking forward to seeing how the Cartier and Tiffany's crowd approaches and reacts to cardboard-and-plywood labyrinthine exhibitions of no-name artists, workshops for the developmentally disabled, and a complete and utter lack of diamond-encrusting or even gilding on any of the merch.