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Oh how I miss the tinterweb! I'm getting there... ever so slooowwwllyyy, but I'm getting there.

I've been working in Sainsbury's for just over a week now, and I love it! Officially I'm a Code Checker, which basically means I go around the store making sure the stock is there, anything dated for today is reduced (and technically I can reduce the price to whatever I choose - oh the power!!) , and my favourite bit, I'm usually the one customers go to for help. It's not rocket science, or even working in a cafe, but I love being around people, and I LOVE knowing I'm earning my own money. I see good things working there. Everyone has been uber friendly, and I'm pretty confident already, within myself, being back in work.

Gof is moving in, in two months. His socks and some DVD's have already made their way over to my house, but it'll be interesting to see how real life living together. After over two years together, and pretty much living in each others pockets, the only real change will be the finances. Which we've already discussed. And discussed, yada yada yada! It'll still be a big step, I know, but I trust us to cope.

I also got a new laptop! An Acer Aspire 5532, to be specific. In true squee style, me hearts it big time :D Now all I need is proper net access at my flat and I'll be cooking with... well, binary code?

Ok, I'm all over the place today. This entire blog is totally unstructured, I know this, but I'm emotionally all over the place even though I'm probably the most stable I've ever been!

Right, let's just recap -

*I have a new job
*I love said job
*Gof is moving in soon - scary and exciting
*I bought a new laptop to celebrate new job
*I'm getting excited about about The G already since I know Steve and Frances are coming too
*I'm writing my character diaries again, and am thinking of creating a new blog for them
*I just ate some ice cream
*Mock The Week is on Dave
*I should go to bed soon.

And the bestest ever thing? I'm deliriously happy right now.

Long may it last.

And then some...

I have a job! Finally! I start tomorrow, and will talk you all about it then. Right now, I just feel like everything is finally falling into place - a real step in the direction of life! There's so much coming up, that I just want to jump up and down and scream in the best possible way.

But I'm nervous. The old me, still hidden in a small way, is silently waiting for something to go wrong, for something to topple and make all else that's going right fall down with it. I try not to pay attention to the negative side of me, but it was a defence mechanism I used for so long. I expected the worst, and in a weird way, felt justified in assuming that things go wrong, because they always did. I didn't realise it was self-serving, almost like I sabotaged the good without really realising it. Even now, I need to stop myself from making the obvious mistake to ensure I know I'm doing everything in power not to screw it up. Like I've said before, I want to feel the fear of success. I want to know, with every inch of my being, that I can, and will, succeed. I'm capable. I'm strong.

I've started to over-analyse things again. It's something about me I've tried without much success to change. So, instead of fighting a losing battle, I've utilised it. I turn it into over-analysing the possibilities, decisions about financial matters, emotional ones, whatever, but in a positive way, not thinking only about what can go wrong. As a result, I've been very happy with each and every choice I've made recently, knowing that I've weighed up the pro's and cons in a thoughtful way.

I know what I mean!

I'm still to hit my stride, but I know at least I'm trying to find the rhythm I'll enjoying dancing to, and that's good enough for me.

For now. 

First job interview

I went last week, (still quite ill) to the first job interview I've had since I officially began looking for work. It was for Benefit Cosmetics. Dream job, almost, yeah? Nope. Don't get me wrong, I love a good few of their products, like You Rebel, High Beam and Bad Gal liner, but I don't agree with their policy on getting bums on seats within their concession. It's almost forced.

I'll start at the beginning. First up, there were 4 candidates, myself included, up for the "audition". First, we were told abit about the company and how being open and friendly to potential clients was at the base of their company policy. We were told they have a "Show not sell" bottom line, basically, the products *are* great, they sell themselves, but we're there to make sure people know about them. So far, so good, right? They offer mini makeovers, and there's no obligation to buy, no pressure. It's true, I never seen a customer while I was there looking like they felt they *had* to buy.

But wait, the pressure starts before they sit on those seats. We (the four candidates) were taught to walk up to a customer (roleplaying with each other), immediately touch their arm and ask if they'd heard of Benefit. While they answered (and we were told the answer didn't really matter anyway), we were told to slip an arm round their back (to encourage friendliness, of course), and start pushing, I mean leading the customer to the seats while talking about how they simply *have* to try out this line. I don't know about you, but I have serious issue with complete strangers manhandling me, but idea that some people may think that you are invading their personal space was just poohpooh'd away. We were being friendly, that's all!

Before we were lead out to the general public to try this out though, we were asked to give each other a quick makeover, using Dr Feelgood, You Rebel, BeneTint, and High Beam. Happily, I got stuck in, and got compliments both for my technique and for my freshly make over face when the other girl tried it out. I could do this - I know I can, I thought over and over, but when it came to trying to get people over... nope. No can do. I'm not forcing people over.

Benefit looks girly, fun and retro, and the set up, the music, everything about it is welcoming. Except the pressure to sit down. They quite freely admitted that they were the only company in the beauty department to hunt down customers like this, but they made it sound like a good thing. I don't think it is. The products should speak for themselves, and people should want to come over, not avoid it because those crazy girls chase you down and make you sit down. I cut my losses after 10 mins of trying. Doesn't sound like much, but believe, it felt like a million years, if you believe the exaggeration for once. I went back to the girl in charge of us candidates and told her this sort of hard sell, I mean show, was something I couldn't and wouldn't do. She was nice about it, saying this sort of thing wasn't for everyone, and thanked me for trying out.

I know I want a job badly, but I don't want to chase a job I couldn't do well, one I couldn't feel at all comfortable with.

Leaving the store, an employee (different department) asked me how the "audition" went. I told him I couldn't stop traffic, the term they use. He said he didn't really like how they done that either. Made me feel like less of a loser for bailing out.

There'll be other jobs.

Won't there?

*hides in shame*

Yes yes, I'm a naughty girl - I promised another video then disappeared for two weeks! I'm sorry, truly, I am! Thing is, I got sick, then Gof got sick, then we didn't leave my house for more than 20 minutes at a time... for a week. But the plague has ended and Gof is now on holiday anyway, so we've rejoined society, ie. venturing out in broad daylight and coming to his house for the net access!

So, right now, I'm typing this on Mac's Mac (seriously :P), I have a pad full of other blog ideas beside me, I'm considering outfit ideas for the upcoming Emilie Autumn gig (SQUEE!!!) and generally, enjoying sitting up! Gof is sitting next to me playing Alien V Predator on *his* PC (which is faaar superior to a Mac, apparently :P), and I think I've lost him for good... I'm an AvP widow!

*he's grumbling about the Alien eating him alot, it's quite funny*

So, catch up. I went to a job interview last week (more on that in another post, it warrants it, believe me!), and on Saturday, we had a birthday get together for Gof and our mate Chris, they share a birthday (which is actually tomorrow!), so Gof made sushi, Chris made... ummm, loads of hot Japanese food (sorry I forget the names!) and we had about 15 guests and quite abit of alcohol! It was a good night, almost civilised... almost. There's also more done in the flat, but no video because there's no battery power left in the camera and silly cow me keeps forgetting that fact! But I'll get on up soon enough, promise!

In other news, I won a competition! ME! I never win anything! It was a competition held by the ever lovely Miz Candice DeVille over at  Super Kawaii Mama for a AUS$50 voucher courtesy of the beautiful store Violetville :D I'm about to go pick something out, since I'm FINALLY online properly... I'll be back with a pic of what I choose!

Mwah! 

Another Video...

I meant to post this on here the end of last week, but, of course, I forgot! This was filmed last Thursday (04/02/2010) after the film crew left, but before I wrote my blog on homelessness.

On that, I've decided to work on a report, starting by going back to my old hostels and talking to the residents still there. I want to write an accurate account of homelessness in Glasgow, and publish it either here, or try to get a newspaper involved. Lets see where this takes us!

Anyway, back to the vid, here's what I've done to the place as of then, and I'll post another next Friday (the 19th). Any excuse to keep the ball rolling!



Let me know what you think!

thank god I'm (not?) pretty?

I don't know when I really realised I wasn't pretty. It wasn't anything my mum said, nothing my family did, to make me feel, well, less than pretty. Even though I have many, many, brothers and sisters (thank you biological dad!), I grew up with my two younger sisters, Lynzi and Jaime-Leigh. Lynzi grew up blonde, blue eyes, tan and the one what all my gorgeous little cousins "took after". Jaime-Leigh was the complete opposite, quite pale and and very dark features, a million lashes framed her deep brown eyes. Even as the eldest, I was somewhere in between. My hair wasn't dark enough to be really brown, neither light enough to be considered blonde. I called it my dirty water hair, because that's what it reminded me of. My eyes were a mix of green and blue.Nothing spectacular.Growing up seeing people fawn over Lynzi's beautiful golden hair or Jaime-Leigh's doll-like features didn't bother me, because I did it too. I didn't stop to realise people didn't really fawn over how I looked.

Maybe it was that old catch-all, school. In secondary school, I seen my peers in the toilets trying to straighten their hair with the hand dryers, decide what kind of earring went with the school tie. The popular girls, no matter what their natural hair colour, would have white blonde highlights in their hair, worn like a badge of honour. Perfectly cut in the space just beyond their shoulder blades.When Britney's "Baby One More Time" video came out - those girls wore the knee high socks, tiny skirts, knotted up oversized cardigans, yada yada. I remember looking at then with a feeling not unlike envy, and thinking, "why can't I look like that?".

And what did I look like during those years? From 12-14, my look was tied back hair (barely combed), black trousers, whatever colour trainers I found a pair of first, a school blouse and my loosely put together tie. No make up. Yup, I was a total tomboy. When I wasn't in school I was out on my bike, hanging with friends, mostly boys - not indoors trying to tame my hair or bleach it to within an inch of its life. I wasn't considering how what I wore attracted the boys, I was too busy giving them Chinese Burns!

Forth Year - two months after I turned 15. During that summer, I started changing - just a bit. I realised I liked to take time making myself feel good, if not pretty. For me, it took some effort. I just wasn't naturally pretty, and I realised that information didn't bother me one iota. I re-entered school that year with a foot firmly in each camp - a well dressed tomboy. Just because I didn't wear make up at school didn't mean I didn't experiment with my mum's make up. I had done since I was little, and it was time to put what I learned into practice. On that day, I showed up, wearing classic black court shoes, a pale coloured pair of tights, a black pencil skirt and a fitted cardigan over a blouse with a properly knotted up tie. My make up consisted of clear brow gel and lashes of non-clumpy black mascara, and a small flick of eye liner. Some of  my mum's light rose coloured lipstick completed the look. My hair was brushed back, not straightened, in a half up, half down style.

Why do I remember this so vividly, 10 years on? I remember because of the looks I got. Even the teachers had difficultly realising who I was. My friends loved it, and the popular girls felt threatened. I was already friends with the boys they liked, and now I looked, to them, "passable". I won't go into the things they said, what interests me now is why they said what they did. I still don't, to this day, understand it.

Remember, I still didn't consider myself "pretty". Not like them. For all the time they must have spent to look the way they did, to me, it still seemed they had the one thing I didn't - they were pretty anyway. Take away my new look and I'd be that tomboy again, but they'd still look lovely. My male friends still farted in front of me, none of them hadn't come to the startling realisation that they really liked me. More to the point, neither did I. They were still just my friends.

Since then, I've struggled with the thought that my looking after myself means something more than it is. I like doing it, and spending some time in the morning making sure I'll go through the day feeling good about myself is the reason I do it. There's no ulterior motive. I might not feel pretty, but I'll be damned if that doesn't mean I don't appreciate myself. I've discovered something I might not have had I felt pretty enough to not need to bother.

I've went through the tomboy stage, the classic goth stage, the neon bright industrial, the vintage, the Bollywood. So much joy found in the different, the strange, the comfort of experimenting. I've not been lazy in discovering new things, and I love each and every thing. I'm no jeans and t-shirt girl. I can't wear something I know is popular, because I hate the idea of looking like just another person. In my quest, I've found talents in myself, creativity, a different perspective. I've found others like me, to bounce ideas off of. I love that even though I love vintage most of all, I can take different aspects of other styles and make it work. I can't imagine not living this life.

And all because I don't consider myself pretty.

Not such a hardship after all, is it?

Homelessness

Yesterday I had a visit from NewArt, a company putting together a DVD for my Housing Association. Basically, they wanted me to talk about how I became homeless, and what led me to apply for the Partick Association. Of course, I wanted to talk about it, because recently, I've discovered I actually want to spread the word. Being in the position of having to declare yourself homeless isn't shameful, and it can lead to the most wonderful things, made all the more wonderful because you can't quite believe your luck will turn when life has beaten you down so low.


J.R.R. Tolkien called it the eucatastrophe. The sudden change of what seems utterly hopeless to joy, and hope. Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse.... they don't. 


I suppose most of you know the circumstances of my homelessness. In short, eviction, hostel, private let, stayed with a friend, stayed with another friend, stayed with Gof, hostel again, then finally, blessedly, to a flat with my name on the lease. Some friendships were burned so bad, all that's left is ashes and regret. Some were made, and sealed with love and hope. Mostly though, looking back, it was a real discovery for who I am, and what I can do. I found reserves of strength, eventually, that I didn't believe I had in me. I accepted help, from anyone willing to offer, from family, friends, organisations - and knew it wasn't an admission of defeat. I took time, proper time, and found an iron will. I found that even though I sometimes succumbed to despair, I knew, deep inside, that I will not let this beat me.


And it hasn't. I've still a way to go, no doubt for that - but I'm more hopeful than ever. I'm paying my bills, looking for a job, writing, creating a home, and looking after myself again. Of course, we all know by know, I'm even doing one thing I never thought I would - by marrying the man who stuck by me through all this. I'm still scared, sure, but it's a good fear, the fear that the future I wish for is within my grasp, but I need to work at it to reach it. Not just for me, but for Gof too. For my family. My friends. Everyone who has had a part in the twists and turns so far, and those yet to join me. The fear is knowing I am able to succeed. I would let myself down if I settled for second best.


That's my story. So far. I'll continue to tell it, but right now, my thoughts are on homelessness in general. How much, do we, as the general public (how I hate that phrase!), surmise about homeless people, and how much do we stereotype? It's the runaways, the junkies, alkies, whores of the world who are homeless. 


Maybe the majority are. But where did those people, (and they ARE people) come from? What did they run from? Why are they swallowing, injecting, snorting the memories away? One wrong choice and that might have been you. One moment in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's all it takes. The stories I heard when I was living in these hostels... I related to these women. I seen how it happened. For everyone I spoke to, they all said the same thing - "Don't end up like me. Don't give up in yourself". These women settled for last place, living in a hostel for good, since it was the only security they'd had in years. I'm sitting here typing this with tears streaming. These people should be commended for simply surviving over the odds, not condemned for something most of them had very little say over. This was something that was done to them, for which they lacked the skills to cope.


Even so, more and more people are becoming homeless as a direct result of this so-called credit crunch. Families who bought their home suddenly finding themselves on the street because the bank foreclosed on their mortgage. People who lost their jobs because the company they worked for went tits up. Armed with very little information, there is a scant amount of support for those who have no real understanding of a system that can be scary to navigate alone. 


There's very little actual statistics on homelessness in Glasgow. I know, I've looked. Between homeless charities like Shelter and Crisis publishing fairly general reports like this one and Government trying to "spin" the situation, apparently homelessness has went down according to some reports like this one that states;

"Homelessness presentations by single applicants down by 38% over the years 2002/03 to 2007/08"
                            Strategic evaluation of the Glasgow Homelessness Partnership by Blake Stevenson.
          

But then, we have graphs like this one from the Scottish Government website completely contradicting that!

What to believe? I know I'm not the only casualty of the credit crunch who has ended up homeless. I know I'm not the only person the DWP has let down. So where are the real stories? Where are the success stories? The hopeless cases? Why is no-one asking these questions?