Not too long ago my mum came across her old Nokia, complete with the shiniest, goldest, most awful fascia you've ever seen. It got me thinking about my own phone history, which resulted in this post...



My nan gave me this phone after winning it at bingo in 2000, back when I was 11 years old. I was so excited in spite of the fact I had nobody to stay in touch with on it. (Even if it was only 12p a text!) You could get your daily horoscope on it though, so we all used to check it out on our way to school.



Next up was the trusty Nokia 3310, the phone of choice for seemingly everyone. It had cool clip on covers available at every market stall (like that gold monstrosity which kicked this post off) and Snake. Who didn't love Snake?

Mine was silver and blue.

Things were simple back in the day (2004) and I was a huge fan of this phone because of the way it fit in my hand, and the satisfying snap it made when you opened and closed it. Others in my circle were not as impressed and it was dubbed 'the toilet seat' because of its shape...



Part of Nokia's L'Armour fashion collection, the 7373 was released in 2006 boasting a 2 MP camera, 8x digital zoom, and a fabric tag sticking out the side of it. I loved this phone for the way it swiveled - round, and round, and round - though I was most upset when a character on Eastenders got it not long after I did, and turned it into a must have chav accessory. Still, I have very fond memories of the shutter noise it made when taking pictures, and the tinny sound of its speakers as it blared out my ringtone of choice (the Alvin and the Chipmunks theme tune).

Taking a selfie before it was even called a selfie!

I'm not sure which handset it was exactly, but similar to this one.

It was a big shift going from the weighty 7373 to the next one as it was pretty flimsy feeling. It did have a nice clicking sound when you slid it up and down though, and certainly looked more grown up. It didn't have much online capability though, and by the time my contract was coming to an end I was really feeling its limitations.



Getting my first BlackBerry felt like I'd truly joined the working world. I spent all my time texting, emailing, and tweeting with that beautiful QWERTY keypad.




I was never as much of a fan of the 9790 which I got in 2012. I mean, sure, it was more powerful, but it just didn't feel as substantial as its predecessor. It also had a touch screen which I didn't like. What was the point when you already had the track pad? By this time every man and his dog was switching to the all touch screen experience but I'm a) stubborn and b) have a weird dislike of touchscreen typing.



I upgraded to the BlackBerry Passport in April this year. It's taken plenty of flack, I know, but the large screen makes it so useful for work which is what BlackBerry has always been about. With this you don't need a laptop or even a tablet, it can handle agendas, spreadsheets, and is still just about small enough to fit in a clutch bag. ...And it has a keypad. I really hate typing on a touchscreen, so now the Passport is all that stands between me and one of those Doro phones your nan has.


It was weird seeing pictures of something I'd spent so many hours of my life looking at. Each one brought back memories of what I was doing when I owned that particular phone, who I was texting - who I was hoping was going to text me - and how each one provided me with new ways to fidget and ignore the world around me...

How many phones have you had? And which one was your favourite?



For more on the history - and evolution - of the mobile phone, check out the awesome timeline by Tiger Mobiles. Lots of great trivia there! :D

I heard about this great blogging challenge via Occupation Mother, who got it at source from Nipper and Tyke. Basically you write up your CV, just with all the observations on those jobs you have to leave off the real one...



When it comes to work, and the reasons for it, the [Spunge] song 'Jump on Demand' usually comes to mind for me:


Because there are lots of positives to work, don't get me wrong. There's the camaraderie, the opportunity to learn new things, the routine, and the life experience. (And the money, don't forget the money.) It's just that I'd sooner be a lady of leisure. :)

2004: I got my very first job when I was 16, when I started as a kitchen help at St. Joseph's private hospital. Friday evenings after school, and Saturdays 9am - 2pm. In 2005 I took on an extra shift on Sunday mornings, cleaning on the wards, and then later that year I decided to remove myself from the UCAS process because I was full of existential teenage angst. Not having thought the move through I ended up working at the hospital pretty much full time after leaving sixth form as a member of bank staff, rotating through the roles of kitchen help, ward cleaner, ward hostess (the people who take the food trolley round), hospice cleaner, and canteen girl (operating the till, oh yeah).

Even though it was pretty much just never ending washing up or toilet scrubbing, depending on the rota, I got on well with everyone and I have really fond memories of my time there. I learned lots about food hygiene and the whole thing was a huge help in overcoming my crippling shyness. Plus I was on pretty good money for my age, which is always a bonus.

Taking a break from Christmas dinner service - I was full of festive cheer.
2007: So, I liked the hospital but I really didn't want to be scrubbing suspicious stains off someone else's toilets forever. I reapplied for university and went off to read history at the University of Cambridge, an institution stuck in another time if not another universe. Students may not be in paid employment for more than ten hours a week because, well, you should be rich enough not to need to, I guess. I worked back at the hospital during the holidays and volunteered with the Eating Disorder Mentor project and Linkline, the student nightline, during term time. That mostly involved freezing to death in a grotty office, listening to the regulars ramble. I learned that one day, if I wanted it bad enough, my hand would turn aquamarine blue through the power of thought. That day has yet to come to pass...

2010: When I left university I wasn't at all sure what I wanted to do. Youth work seemed as good an idea as any. I started volunteering with a youth charity; that turned into a work placement, which turned into a full time job - just as I was about to start a temp position with Primark. (I still got paid for their induction training though, so it was a win-win.) The kids were great, and it was really rewarding, but the rest became a bit of a nightmare and I wanted out. I was volunteering every Tuesday evening with the CCYP, my local youth centre, and Vintage Vision, a really cool little business, on the weekends so I figured that was covering my work experience. I was going back to college!

I even got into the local newspaper for my volunteer work back in 2011.
2011: Initially I was going to do a MA in regional history, and that turned into starting a PhD on the Georgian gentry. For money I did a bit of undergraduate lecturing which was awesome and terrifying, and also became a dinner lady at Woodlands Primary School. I learned there that you should never suggest little kids try something they don't like (carrots, in this particular case). They have a bewildering habit of bursting into tears.

2012: After a short stint at the school, I bagged a great job at Journeys, a depression support charity based in Cardiff. I loved it there and wouldn't have left if it weren't for the timing - I had put my name down as a Labour Party candidate in the then upcoming local government elections, thinking it would look good on my CV. Much to my surprise I topped the ballot in my ward and was duly elected. At first I intended to keep my job on but it soon became apparent that I'd bitten off more than I could chew. What with one job, and the other, volunteer positions (I'd joined the board of Maendy Praimary School earlier that year, for instance), and the commuting between everything, I had no time to study, let alone get my head together.

With Cllr Bob Wellington, the leader of Torfaen Council, for pics to go with an article on street name equality. I was asked if I'd put a motion to council by a member of the public, and ended up getting my name in everything from the local rag to The Times!
2014: I finished at Journeys after a few months but, looking back, the damage had already been done. I had a bit of a breakdown and it's only on the other side I can see that I just wasn't coping with anything. I eventually dropped out of my postgrad course which was just about the hardest thing I've ever had to do - I felt like it meant I was a quitter, a failure - and really scaled back my volunteer work.

But the reduced stress had an almost immediate effect. I fell pregnant with Marianna.

2015: Marianna was born on New Year's Day 2015, and I went back to work at the beginning of March. It had been a tough pregnancy so it was nice to be able to function normally again, without having to keep nipping out of meetings to go and be sick somewhere! It was more than enough to be a backbench councillor but I did start to branch out a little into new areas; for example I joined the Gwent Police and Crime Panel, the body which scrutinises the Police and Crime Commissioner, and I set up my very own parenting and lifestyle blog. (You're reading it right now!)


2016: The downside of working as an elected official is that to keep your job, you need to get re-elected! The next Welsh council elections are in 2017, so it is quite a worrying time right now because, obviously, if the public don't want me back I'm going to need to find another job very quickly. This is the main reason I have been working so hard on the blog in my spare time, in the hope it will be able to tide us over if the worst comes to worst.

On the positive side, I was appointed Deputy Mayor this year which has been a real privilege, and if I do get re-elected, next year I will be the Mayor of Torfaen. It would be such an amazing experience, and something I really hope Marianna would be proud of me for. Fingers crossed, I guess!