Monday 30 January 2012

Red wine + opinions = danger

I've come out of the other side of this weekend thinking that I couldn't actually be happier with my life right now. That's quite a statement to make and I think it's taken me a while to get here, working through life-changing decisions and facing up to the fact that I could actually be making things harder on myself, but at the same time knowing that they're right decisions and so ultimately I will end up happier.

Thankfully that's happened. I think I came to realise it in the pub this afternoon with my fella. Sat chatting, putting the world to rights and just smiling, just knowing that I'm having the opportunity to pursue a career I enjoy with people I love supporting me.

Smug, sickening, self-righteous I may be, but I've taken a step that I know many people have admired, or even envied, because at least I'm no longer wasting my time stuck doing something I don't enjoy.

It's funny really, the people I've spoken to this weekend that have told me they're 'hoping to stick it out for another year' or they're 'so fed up it has to change' and knowing they're where I was two or three months ago. All I can honestly say, in my slightly tipsy, but perfectly lucid, red wine state, is that if something doesn't feel right in your life, then fuck it. Jack it in and move on. It's tough, but by far the best thing you can do.

Ok, so I'm not sure how to get the rent together in the next month or so, but I'm not worried. It will work out. So far it has. Since I've quit my job I've managed to score three, yes three, different writing jobs and have been encouraged to pitch more ideas to a national women's mag. A year, or even five months ago I never thought I'd be in this position because I never thought I'd have the bollocks to do it. Obviously, it was never going to be an easy ride, but the fact of the matter is that three weeks into my self-employment I've managed to get regular, paid, writing spots goes to show that if you want something bad enough then it will happen...because you have to make it so.

Today I heard that a friend of a friend had jacked in his job to give it a go at being an actor. Risky, but he's committed. He's down-graded his home/rent and followed his heart. As people have been saying to me over the last few weeks, I really admire that's he's doing it, putting himself out there, and you know he'll work his bollocks off to make it, no matter how small the personal landmark will be that he's "made it", because we all have our own goals, but he's doing something about it. He's not staying somewhere for the sake of it, feeling duty bound like so many of us do because at the moment we're pressured into the feeling of having to keep a job because they're simply gold dust.

It's bull shit.

My heart goes out to my friend that's stuck in a job she's 'sort of' enjoying, working for a wage that's getting her by and living in a town she's desperate to get out of. If I could, I'd pack her bags for her and tell her to take more of a chance. In some ways I admire her, she's following the map and the plan I once had, but was thrown off because of circumstances out of my control. At that point I was forced to tread water, as it were, and make (sometimes shitty) decisions as to the direction of things. But it's worked out fine, and she'd be fine, but she's too sensible and I hate the thought of her being unhappy for another two years.

Overall I think I'm just fed up of people being unhappy; of seeing people I care about stuck in situations they feel they can't get out of because I know that's the shittest feeling in all the world. I hate that as a young person, supposed to be full of beans and starting on their career, we're given nothing but negativity and shit in the media about how bad things are and there's literally no resolution at the end of it. It's sad, it's depressing, it's scary as fuck and I guess the only positive I can see is that we're being pushed into these gold dust jobs, but we can only withstand it for so long before it motivates us enough to say "fuck it" and try to make it anyway because at least there's been an attempt to do something that makes us happy and fail, rather than work in a two-bit job that makes us miserable.

Realisation can be tough sometimes.

RoseC -x-

Sunday 22 January 2012

Completely missing the point

Sat in the pub with the boyfriend on Saturday night, we got onto the discussion of 'shit films' after one of his housemates was watching a particularly cheesy piece of cinematic shite, Beastly - a remake of Beauty & The Beast. Have you seen it? If you have and you enjoyed it then you are now dead to me, and if you haven't seen it then take it from me that it should be avoided like the plague because it's the biggest load of wank with cliched lines and weak acting. In my opinion.

Anyway, that's how the conversation on films started. It then progressed to my boyfriend telling me he'd read a story in the news that Odeon cinemas had been refunding tickets to people who went to see The Artist, but then demanded a refund because there was no talking in it.

After a moment of spluttering and trying to get my head around what I'd just heard, the only response I could come out with was: "What complete fucktards!"

"Who?" asks the boyfriend, and to be honest I think that's where my confusion really started because I don't know who that was directed at as it appears to me there's a fine line between who's stupider: the members of the audience that went to see a SILENT film and then complained when there was no dialogue, or Odeon for refunding these culturally inept twats. Who was to win the 'fucktard' title?

Seriously though, how can people go to see a film which has received so much acclaim and coverage for the fact that it's in black and white and that the trailer is completely silent except for members of the audience commenting on it, that they completely missed the point and concept of the film? My guess is that they're band waggon hoppers that thought, "oh my god like everyones talking about this really amazing film, that's like so cutting edge and because we're edgy and stuff we should go and see it and totally get it because we're big cinematic fans."

Well, you didn't get it did you? You completely missed the fucking point of the beauty and irony and historical context of the film and because you're so bought in on glitzy Hollywood anything that breaks the conformity you're used to, or that you have to think about, or god forbid you should be asked to be slightly more active in watching the film by reading rather than a completely passive member of the audience where your eyes look lazily at the screen expecting to see all the whizz-bangs and CGI effects that are usually so lovingly put together in your blockbusters, you felt the need to ask for a fucking refund because you needed to engage with what was in front of you.

Twats.

The cinema's no better though in my opinion. I don't think they should have refunded the fucktards, thus also making them stupid too. Apparently Odeon have a policy whereby you can get your money back if you leave the film 10 minutes in and you're not enjoying it - wish I'd known that when I went to see Tim Burton's Alice In Wonderland. Terrible.

Something just doesn't sit right with me about it though. Even though I didn't like Alice In Wonderland, I knew what I was getting myself into, it's just unfortunate that the story retold in the way it was, wasn't very good. The fact that The Artist doesn't have any dialogue in it shouldn't be justification for people finding the film crap. They're entitled to think that if they wish, but not because of the lack of sound because that's the point of the film. If the plot was rubbish too, then fair enough, walk out, but you can't go to see a silent film and then criticise it for being too silent. That's plain stupid.

What we can learn from this is people need to pay more attention to reviews or at least take half an interest in what they're hoping to see at the cinema rather than jumping on a band waggon and feeling obliged to see it because it's 'critically acclaimed'. If it doesn't sound like (pardon the pun) the sort of film you'd like, then don't see it. I avoided Avatar for that exact same reason.

Here's the article I read up about it. Don't even get me started on the typos in there...

RoseC

Tuesday 17 January 2012

LETS GET READY TO, er? Ramble?

In the blue corner we have THE CITY AKA BIG SMOKE!

In the coat, scarf, gloves and hat corner ready for the Antarctic, but just going for a walk around London we have Rose "THE CROMPTONATOR" Crompton!

NOW LETS GET READY TO RRAAAAAMMMMBLE!

Yes that's right ladies and gentlemen, with feet that move as quick as Charlie Brown's scuttling little legs, I ducked and weaved my way around zone one, taking on the sights and sirens of the city for an evening walk, with a walking group.

One of my ambitions for 2012 that I've put on my list (which I'm yet to publish in a blog) is to find two new hobbies or interests. I've thought about how much I used to enjoy walking around the local fields when I lived back in Leicestershire, so it led me to look up groups to go walking with in the city. Slightly different scenery, definitely no cows [insert desired catty comment here] but I need stuff to get me out the house and after a bit of Googling I managed to find a walking group right in the centre of London.

Geez, you don't even know how stir crazy I've been going working from home. Literally sitting in front of my laptop with no where to stroll to apart from the kitchen, then back to the living room and then maybe a short trip to Tesco across the road if I'm lucky. That's it. No one to talk to. It's a wonder I've not gnawed off a foot yet - obviously I wouldn't chew off my hands, that would be crazy, I need those to help me make money typing/writing. So, tonight I got myself out there and attended my first walking group ramble!

Ok, ok, so before you go off on one thinking I've aged about 40 years, this was with a walking group for people aged 20-30s, who all live and work in London so they're all quite like minded city dwellers and it wasn't going for an amble with people aged 60+ wanting to talk about nothing more than their post office pension scheme or whatever. Bit of a sweeping generalisation, apologies, but I'm trying to ensure you don't have the same bemused smile on your face as my housemate as a stereotypical image of a walking group pops into your head.

It was all very sociable and around 30 people rocked up. I chatted to an ex-teacher who'd had enough of the rudeness of young people that he quit after a year, a chap from Australia who loved coffee shops and banana bread too and a fellow newbie that was from Poland and schooled me on the finer points of vodka. I don't even like vodka.

Overall everyone was really lovely, they kind of all reminded me of my Mom and her walking group and friends, but younger. Shit, well there's that stereotype I was trying so hard to not get you to think about. But they were, they were all just friendly, nice to chat to people. Good to get out into a new social circle and apparently with over 800 members I'm sure there's many more people to meet!

Even though it was in the city and I've lived here for five years, and even though the route from Old Street to London Bridge was one that I trudged everyday because it was my work commute journey for nearly two years, the leader still managed to find a route that lead us down city back streets and around buildings, statues and monuments that I'd never seen before. Just goes to show, London always has something new to show you and there's no way you can ever see it all, not even after five years. It's nice to be reminded of that, especially because it's so easy to narrow your sights in London and just stick to places you know and so end up seeing things you've seen a thousand times before.

As soon as I fix myself with a decent pair of walking boots I'm off on a 10 mile proper ramble. The last time I walked 10 miles or more was when I was in the Brownies, so bring on the challenge!

RoseC -x-

Monday 16 January 2012

Mind the gutter (NSFW, probably)

There used to be a time when sex was an everyday part of my life. No, I don't mean I was 'doing it' every day (chance would be a fine thing), but I was either reading, writing, watching or talking about it. For most people rocking up into the office and turning on their computer means they're usually faced with the same old desktop - a cute animal of some sort, or a favourite holiday snap to remind them that there's a goal to the dreary existence that makes earning money all worthwhile - but for me turning up to work on a morning I would be faced with images of tits or close ups of a woman's fanny.

We'd then sit and discuss the finer points of using sexual lubricants during foreplay, if the latest designer sex toy really is that good because it only made me come twice in five minutes, or whether it's acceptable to wake your partner up by fucking them or whether that amounts to some form of relationship rape as they're technically not conscious to consent. (This is still to be resolved or clarified, feel free to wade in.) These were every day discussions and points of interest, and I've been missing it.

Obviously when I was working in the school I had to keep quiet about where I used to work or some of the things I'd write about. There were a few people I told, perhaps because I liked to shock them, I liked that reaction when they went, "Oh my word! And now you work in a school, that's a bit of a change," and yes, quite frankly it was; it was a change that forced me to clean up my act and watch my mouth and be grown up and honestly, it was so unsexy.

Thankfully though, the last few days I've been putting my filth hat back on and am happy to trip back into the gutter. I still have plenty of sex feature ideas in my file left over from Scarlet that I've had chance to go back over and rehash into better ideas. I've been writing some of my own erotic fiction. Granted this has never been my strong point, but I find it fun to write for myself so I've been doing that.

Today I put together a sex-related pitch that I hope will get me into a national women's magazine and then have been researching another, but can't say I've had much success. Apparently there aren't many logical, good reasons to get naked everyday, other than showering, if you're a naturist or if you're an egotistical sod. I mean there are no obvious health or well-being benefits so I may have to prod and probe to create my own!

I've managed to unearth many illogical ones though, such as World Naked Gardening Day (it's on Saturday May 5th in case you were wondering, and no it's not something I'll be covering on the gardening website) which appears to be nothing more than encouraging people to get their kit off in the garden for a day and there's no 'political agenda' behind it, or reason. It's just a get naked and do a bit of gardening day. Hardly a good enough reason to get nude, imagine all the nettles if you've got a garden full or weeds, or all the pricks you could get. From the rose bushes I mean...

I found stuff on naked changing room etiquette, that getting naked in front of your partner everyday can help keep the romance....oh wait hang on, that might actually work for the article. Again, knowing whether it's good to strip off in front of your brother (er, no) or if it will help you get laid by your neighbour who happens to be a swinger, is not particularly useful to me and then I just knew it was going wrong when I got into all of the 'abused naked' regions of Google's dark side and decided to stop looking.

I mean there's being in the gutter and enjoying a bit of filth and nuddy fun, but then there's places you should never go. At least not for the articles I want to write, then they're practically tame in comparison to some people's debauched minds.

It feels good to put at least one foot back in the gutter for now.

RoseC -x-

Thursday 12 January 2012

My new toy and other stuff

Today has been a whole other level of shit. Shall I tell you why?

Because I'm ill with a stupid fucking cold.

Today I bought this...

...which I'd hoped to cycle round London on because it's meant to be that last decent day of the mild weather before it gets cold, so I wanted to play with my new toy.

Instead I find myself in bed, aching all over, nose streaming, sinuses hurting, ears hurting and looking like someone punched me in both eyes and then not allowed me to sleep for 24 hours.

I AM NOT A HAPPY BUNNY!

I'm shit at being ill, I may have said this before, but I'm especially shit at being ill when the day before I was all excited about something and then I've had that excitement snatched away from me all because some fucker on the same bus as me didn't bother to catch it, bin it, and kill it.

Obviously I've got very little work done today - it's difficult to put together a 1000 word article typing with just one hand while the other is holding a tissue to your nose - so instead I watched a lot of tele.

It seems the commercial companies knew I was ill because that bloody Boots advert with the two women who are sick with cold, running around town having to get stuff for their bed-ridden husbands who have man-flu, kept coming on.

Today, of all days, that advert made me mad. If those women were really that sick, like what I'm sick with and judging from the symptoms they're showing on the tv, it's very likely we have the same thing, they would not be out and about! Fucking martyrs my arse, they're showing us real sick and poorly women up in a bad light! In an attempt to get sympathy from the boyfriend, all I got was a reminder of that advert and told to "man up" and clearly I'm "suffering from 'man-flu'." Apparently he "couldn't resist" taking a dig.

Thanks to that advert, women can no longer be taken seriously when ill, when they need a duvet day, when they need fuss and attention and someone to make their lemsips for them because of fear of sneezing while holding a boiling kettle and scalding themselves. You may think it's just a cold, but there are real dangers out there when your head's fuzzy and full of mucus.

So, well done Boots, you've ruined it for every women ever!

RoseC -x-

Tuesday 10 January 2012

I know I'm turning into my mother when...

1. I decide to join a walking group
When I was younger I hated walking anywhere and would always ask my parents to drive me everywhere, much to my Mom's dismay who is a bit of an eco-freak and loves walking so much that she's been the member of a rambling group for over a decade and she only joined the postal service because of all the walking involved.

Well, I'm now 25 and the idea of hiking around the British countryside to escape the city is massively appealing. I want to aimlessly walk across picturesque fields in the mud, in the cold, in my new waterproof trousers that my Mom got me for Christmas, which are the same ones she got for wet weather days on the post and so assures me that they're "really good". So, I looked up city walking groups today and as soon as I've purchased myself a good pair of boots then I'm going to pay my £41 to join the city walking group and damn I will walk myself stupid around London!

2. Keeping a diary and making plans way in advance

Keeping a diary and track of things is good; it's good to be organised. Sometimes though I think I can be organised to the point of irritation where I loose track of being spontaneous. When I get to the weekend I need to know exactly what's happening so that I can think and plan out the most logical order in which to do things. This is my mother to a tee.

When I was younger Mom and Dad used to 'do diaries' where they'd sit down together for half an hour and write up in their diary what each would be doing the following week, or a month down the line, or three months down the line. I've found myself doing this, much to the annoyance of my boyfriend. Before 2011 was even out, I was already writing plans in the diary for June 2012 of things that we've got on. He's even asked to get a diary this year, so clearly it's only a matter of time before we'll be having our own 'doing diaries'.

3. I'm getting into gardening

Mom's always been into horticulture stuff. Not only does she take very, very good care of our garden back home and cultivate her allotment, but she was even the chair, or head, or whatever for the village trust for a time. I'd get dragged around garden centres, which never interested me at all. Gardening was boring. Again though, until this year and now I find myself applying for jobs on gardening magazines, writing articles about lettuce and for an urban gardening website and actually enjoying it!

4. I admire my Mom's dress sense

There's no way I'm ready to hang up my baggy jeans and skate shoes yet, but as my Mom's got older she dresses way better and there are a selection of skirts in her wardrobe that I really like. They're simple, like proper classic cuts that go with anything. I on the other hand struggle with skirts and so this makes me envious, but at the same time worried that I'm starting to like what my Mom wears!

5. I drink less

For as long as I've been aware, my Mom's never been a big drinker. I think there are only a handful of occasions I can think of when she's been tipsy. Apparently she gave up drinking much in her late 20's because she got really bad hangovers. Before that she was a baby sham swilling, cigar smoking lady. Now she only agrees to the odd glass of champagne.

I used to be able to down a handful of pints and polish off a bottle of wine without a second thought and only minor repercussions. When it came to the drinking stakes I was definitely my father's daughter. Totally can't do it very much anymore and instead find myself enjoying just the odd glass and being happy enough.

Good grief, and there was me thinking that turning into your mother was just an urban myth.

RoseC -x-

Friday 6 January 2012

ARGH! That is all.

You know when you have one of those days, where you set out in the morning all of the things you want to get done, and you think 'yeah sure that's all doable. I'll have this done by mid-morning, that by lunch time, and then round off my day with this fun little task,' and you feel uber productive? Well, that is exactly how I started my Friday. I had all this shit I wanted/needed to get done, but then as you well know, because you've experienced one of these too, you get hung up on one task, chasing things around and then before you know it, it's the end of the day and people have packed up for the weekend before I'd finished finding out all the stuff that I needed to.

How fucking annoying.

Long story short, I didn't managed to get anything published today, when I planned to get two stories up on the site and get another list of potential stories over for another commission I got, ready for the ed to check them over on Monday. That didn't happen. I fear they may be work overspill into the weekend.

But now the boyfriend's here and it's unlikely that it'll get done.

Right now though we're off to the pub. I've been indoors all day, in front of my laptop, and you know what, I'm not even going to bother checking this blog post for accuracy or spelling mistakes because I have totally over-edited my little heart and brain out today (but still not manage to get everything done. Urgh it's a viscious cycle).

Bye...BYE!

RoseC -x-

Wednesday 4 January 2012

Itchy Fingers

It's been a busy hectic day getting my first two commissions off the ground, one has been published and I scored another commission today. Off to a good start I feel. Shattered now though and a bit fed up of looking at my laptop screen. Spent a whole day waiting for emails to be returned or for my phone to ring with an expert on the other end of the line. That's one thing I forgot about the media: you start off all gun-ho and send out all the info and stuff that you need, then you have the three hour lull while you wait for people to get back to you. Frustrating when your fingers are itching to type.

Anyway, without further delay, click here to read my first published piece of 2012. Short, sweet and may much more work come my way. Hurrah!

RoseC -x-

Tuesday 3 January 2012

NEWS FLASH! 2012 update

Only three days into the new year and already so much has happened in 2012: a new leader has been sworn into North Korea (that probably won't be any better than the last); UK gun laws are under scrutiny after a man shoots dead three women and himself; a murder case that has been open for 18 years has finally been closed; winds reaching 102mph brings British transport to a stop in parts of the country and kills two, and the Bangladesh government bans porn.

In terms of mainstream news it's not been the most uplifting of starts. Luckily, on a personal level the news is a lot more positive. For example, I had a very wonderful NYE with the boyfriend, drinking champagne and watching the fireworks from the comfort of my sofa. I went to the cinema for the first time in months to see Sherlock Holmes and thoroughly enjoyed it. I've been commissioned my first two news stories for the gardening site, and today I completed my first full day of being a freelance journalist (that feels good to say), which was very productive indeed.

The only blotch on my record so far is not being able to get the hang of the stove-top coffee maker I was gifted for Christmas. Two attempts I made at it this morning, and both times the coffee burnt. Fail. I guess my ideal working from-home start to the day with a fresh cup of coffee before settling down with my laptop will take more practise.

I thought of all of these things I wanted to blog about in my first post, whether I was going to round up my 2011 list and jot down a new 2012 list (which I will definitely do in the next couple of days), but I'm getting the feeling that this year requires spontaneity and an impulsiveness in order to make it a good one. I'm not big on new year resolutions, but I think if I had to make one it's that I should learn to be more relaxed and trust my instincts a bit more.

Well, I guess the first major step has happened - quitting my job - and now where the work comes from, or where my career goes from here is up to me being proactive and getting things done. Which I am going to do. Aims for the week:
  1. write up two news stories
  2. email off at least three feature pitches
  3. buy a new bike
All achievable I think. Small, manageable goals are the way forward to keep the morale up. Ok, I realise I'm rambling on like some overly enthusiastic self-help guru come looser, with too much money.

Ok, enough said. Have a good rest of the evening and speak soon!

RoseC -x-