Tag Archives: studying

Buckle up buttercup!

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Oh my how the chips have fallen… So last time I was here I was applying for my crew visa, right? -quick check of past posts- Yup! Also hunting for cabin bags. Well I’m happy to report that all this has been sorted out and not only do I have two shiny new cabin bags but also my passport back with the visa inside. Yay!

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Next couple items on the list were the medical/security interview/uniform fitting and the online pre-course learning. Can I just say that, for the record, the security interview is not nearly as nerve-wrecking as the name implies? Really it’s just a series of painfully common sense questions. Answer, sign and boom you’re done!  Frankly the medical was more fun if only by virtue of taking place on a couple of different rooms. It’s what you might expect: they check your weight, your height, your blood pressure, all the usual. Oh and the eyes too! I’m led to believe that it’s not much different from the average doctor check-up. I wouldn’t know since I’m of the opinion that unless you’re dying then you can probably sort it out yourself at home.

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Then again, I’m a disturbingly healthy young woman who hasn’t had anything more serious than a stomach bug in decades. Even the doctor examining me was surprised at my lack of hospital visits. Come on mate! Are you telling me people here rush to the GP at the slightest sniffle? Of course there was also the fun part that involved needles… They check your immunisation record and top you up with any ones you might be missing. Judging by what some of the other people in the waiting room told me, I got off easy with only three injections. I’d say I got off easy because the only side-effects I got from that roller coaster were a little nausea that evening and a two day cramp on my left arm (where two of the three injections were done). To quote my mother, the nurse was rather heavy handed when armed with a syringe. Also, apparently, it’s weird if you don’t start crying when the needle pinches you? I didn’t know! I mean, sure, as a child I could be heard through walls with how loud I was screaming every time someone tried to give me a vaccine, but I was six! At most! Unless you have a debilitating fear of needles (in which case my heart goes out to you, nasty little buggers those needles…) why would you act like you’re an extra in Friday the 13th? But I digress!

The uniform fitting was infinitely more fun. Related imageIt felt a little that scene in Cinderella where the mice fix her dress, and not just because I really felt like a different person when I stood in front of the mirror in full uniform. You really do get to try everything and I was lucky enough to get the correct size on all items on the first try. That ought to teach you Mr. Wardrobe (I have no idea what the poor guy’s actual job title is, but he was in charge of helping us newbies to sort out our uniform)! When a lady tells you she’s an eight, you don’t doubt her word! What? You thought I’d not know my dress size? -indignant sniff- All joking aside, he was really nice. Even offered me jaffa cakes! And the uniform itself is for the most part very comfortable. For all that I like tight clothes in the summer, if I’m going to do anything as physically demanding as a cabin crew job then I want to be able to move freely in my clothes. And look pretty in them, I suppose…

My personal highlights had to be the service vest and the coat. Weird choices, I know, but the vest made my figure look like I was wearing a corset. Without the discomfort of actually wearing a corset. What more can a girl ask. And the coat? The coat was W.A.R.M. Anyone who has met me knows that I get easily cold. And I don’t mean chilly. I mean “can’t feel her fingers and toes” cold. But that baby? It felt like I was wearing a duvet with sleeves. And yes, I may have daydreamed about that on occasion.

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My only real issue was the suit jacket. It looks gorgeous yeah but I don’t know what was going through the designer’s brain when he came up with because it is sooooo restricting! As in, if it’s buttoned (like it’s supposed to be) I can’t lift my arms more than 30 degrees. Pretty sure the guys don’t have that problem… Thankfully we don’t have to wear it in the cabin , during service, when most of the heavy lifting and moving about would happen but it still feels like the sort of detail that should have been taken into account. The only thing I was not able to try on were the trousers. Apparently lady-cabin crew are expected to wear the skirt part of the uniform exclusively for a certain period of time, though we can request to wear trousers further down the line.

Usually I’m not one to scream sexism all over the internet. I am aware that I have joined a profession that is woefully backward in terms of gender equality, never mind their fondness of mostly showing female employees in their promotional material. If you think I’m exaggerating, the Guardian wrote a pretty interesting article last year on the ongoing “Trouser Wars”. The fact that women were “allowed” to wear trousers only last year, and even then under very limiting conditions is telling I think. Call me foolishly optimistic but I didn’t imagine the question of uniform trousers would actually be an issue. My mother worked cabin crew when I was a child and I only remember seeing her in trousers when she was in uniform. And that was in Greece, around seventeen years ago. Mr. Wardrobe explained it away when I asked as “most women prefer the skirt because it looks more stylish” and “the trousers aren’t very well made”. Far be it from me to sound like a conspiracy theorist but if the trousers are really not as well-made, then it sounds like an incredibly male reasoning of “they’ll have to wear the skirts if the trousers are terrible”. To which I reply, if my choice is freeze while looking pretty because I landed a, say, Moscow flight in January, or look a little less chic and not lose all sensation below the knee, then you bet your XY chromosome I’ll pick the trousers. No doubt this is a subject I’ll pick up again in the future, but for now, with things picking up speed, not even stubborn lingering traces of misogyny can ruin my mood.

I just finished my pre-training course last night too. Yes, that is a thing and I suspect my instructors during the actual training are forever grateful they don’t have to cover the basics with us and can move to what, I imagine, will be the more practical how-to of the job.

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Meanwhile I am (again) taking a page out of my childhood idol’s book and take notes on everything. Sure, it slows down my progress through the modules but at least I’ll have something to fall back to when my mind inevitably blanks and I’m left staring at acronyms in desperation and incomprehension. Also, it’s easier to revise when all the highlights are in the same place. Whether that’s a leftover of my school years or not, I know that if I want to remember something I need to write it down, preferably in multiple colours. Then I just picture the pages and scan for what I actually need. Mind palace? Ha! I have a library. Eat your heart out Sherlock! -ahem- No, but seriously. When the training starts and we are being tested every day it’ll be so much easier. Anyway, enough rambling about my studying habits!

I actually got the e-mail with the information regarding the first week of training (where we get our attestation, which is why they N.E.W.T. us) on my birthday, a few days ago. Pretty awesome timing I think. I have fifty pages of coursework to crunch through before we start (EXCITEMENT!) and my schedule which is kinda weird. We have eight modules to do over six days but we won’t be doing them in consecutive order. I don’t get it. Is it an aviation thing? An English thing? Their way to keep us on our toes? I’ve already asked a friend to hold my book so that I can actually test myself before the terrifying official tests. Just need to print out the handout, which I’ll be doing very soon. I need to finish the Aviation Medicine pre-training before I get started with that, but it shouldn’t take me more than a day. Then I have until the 24th to work through the handbook. Easy stuff!

Anyway, I need to sign off. I’ve been hanging out at the coffee shop a little to long. The lunch crowd is starting to descend and I’m taking up one of the bigger tables. It has plugs! Sue me! And anyway, I have a belated birthday outing this evening so I need to get some chores out of the way before I go about making myself pretty for the public.

Peace out!

 

In which I climb on the proverbial soapbox

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Or…in which I vent my academic status-related frustrations.

Dear (fictional) Mr Nimrod,

I am sick and tired of you pointing out the impracticality of my area of study. Yes, I am aware of the lack of readily-available, entry-level jobs. Yes, I know that it will very likely take years of underpaid overtime to establish myself professionally. Yes, I understand that your concern is my comfort and financial independence. I am certain you are completely altruistic in your constant belittling of my study choices. My answer to you well-meant barbs? WAKE UP NIMROD! Not everyone is cut for the -undeniably cutthroat- world of marketing/economics/business/whatever-well-established-career-path-you-suggest. I do not consider Humanities superior to any other discipline, why do I need to constantly defend it’s use to society? I mean, say what you will about Renaissance and Enlightenment era gender politics, but at least they got one thing right: every discipline that can be studied is important and ought to be studied. Heck! We’d probably be in less of a mess right now if people were not pushed/guilt-tripped into professions they are not suited for.

Admittedly this is written from my undeniably privileged point of view and I understand that sometimes making ends meet is more important. I completely understand. What I don’t understand is this trend of looking down on Humanities and Liberal Arts in favor of the more numerically-inclined degrees. Some tension between schools will be inevitably, much like any conversation with my brothers will inevitably lead to a boys vs girls debate. But I shouldn’t have to defend my preference for further studying over finding a job as soon as I get my BA. I shouldn’t have to explain why the subject(s) I love are worth my time and effort. I don’t call Math students “detached from reality” for enjoying the flow of equations, why should I be called so? And yes, I have been called so, as well as been told that my area of specialization had no practical applications.Well, guess what? If nobody bothered with those musty, dusty, old manuscripts I nerd about our understanding of history, past societies and what led to the formation of the modern world would be sorely lacking. Science doesn’t hold the answers to everything, nor should it.

Leonardo da Vinci was considered such a great scholar because of his wide field. Granted, the man was a genious, but, even by genious standards, his range of interests was insane! He was a painter, sculptor, architect, musician, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, geologist, cartographer, botanist, and writer. And that’s just from a Wikipedia gloss, so there’s probably more. Why can’t societies be more like that? Why can’t it be accepted that everything has its merit and ought to be cherished and studied (and hopefully understood)? It’s just that, you see. I shouldn’t feel like I have to defend myself and my choices, and yet I do. Why? Why can’t we just agree to disagree? Why can’t people get off their high horses long enough to admit that just because they don’t understand or don’t have interest in something that doesn’t mean that no one ought to be interested in it.