New Job

A lot of people don't know what it is I did for a living. In order to feed myself and keep my flat, I must work. And work I did. Basically, if I broke down what I did in the simplest form ever, I used to tell people how to spend their money. Yes, I was an investment broker of sorts. It sounds so fancy. But it was a living hell. Working with people is one thing, dealing with their money and advising them on what to do with it goes beyond terrible.

That said, all through college, I worked at a coffee shop. I kept the job on weekends and the odd evening for the shit of it. Really, I enjoyed the kids i worked with and didn't mind smelling of coffee beans all the time. Not to mention, people always seemed appreciative when you handed them the hot piping cup of caffeine. Some days, I felt almost godly.

Well, as it turns out, I was ranting to my boss at the coffee shop about how soul sucking the investment banking scheme was and she insisted I apply at this tiny, hole in the wall pub near the coffee shop who was looking for a hostess with the mostest. As it turns out, she dated the bloke who owned the joint and put in a good word.

Then I got to thinking, perhaps this is what social networking is all about. Connections and such. I have a long way to go before I figure out this internet business.

I make less money waiting tables, but I'm a lot happier.

Sometimes you have to make a change, even if it means cutting back and not having the fancy bottle of wine and boxing it instead.

Cheers to the new job!

Where Have I Been?

Let me start this long story out with my realisation that Facebook is not for me. I know it sounds ridiculous. A social networking site where millions upon millions of hapless souls log in everyday to share what they’re noshing on and what abhorrent thing happened to them on their way to the office. And it isn’t for me? Shocked me too. As we all know, I adore eating and complaining.

With the plain truth to the side, I must admit, it was the impersonal aspect of the whole kit and caboodle that drove me away. In the end, I found myself cross-legged on my bed, clad only in a Twisted Sister t-shirt, hair unkempt and greasy, wondering where is the social aspect to this social networking thing?

I felt as though I was speaking into a spinning vortex of absolute nothingness, with only my best chum answering back. And I could do that with my mobile. No social media needed at all. Surprising, right?

Then, I got a pep talk from a couple Pankhearst girls. Actually, they insisted I swiftly removed my head from my arse and get back to the world wide web. Not because they missed me, but because I promised to help them with this project they plan on publishing. You know, stories about cars and girls, or scars and curls.

And as this take goes, just as I was about to sign in for the first time in months, literally the very day, I got in a hit and run. After making a pancake of this elderly woman, I simply drove off. Alright, that was a fib. What happened was much less glamorous. A teenager on a scooter hit me. I didn’t die, but I did break my left wrist, the one I use the most.

Hunting about and pecking for words on a keyboard did not appeal in the least.

So, I watched a mountain of movies, listened to a mishmash of music, and healed. Honest, it’s still a bit tender, but here I am, making my grand return. At least I have a hundred and sixty-two movies to write about. And so I commence, tossing garbage into the spinning vortex of nothingness. 

Porning

Every now and again, I find women who aren't exactly in touch with their feminine side. In touch being the go to phrase. And by in touch, I mean, women who don't touch their feminine side. Masturbation. I myself have always been a dirty, filthy wanker. 

Which is why when the Pankhearst CEOs approached and asked for a follow-up erotica storey to what I already submitted for Cars & Girls, I thought. Easy as pie. Except, I wasn't to work alone. Zoe Spencer, girl of my dreams, love of my life, and all around innocent bobble, was given the task as well. Needless to say, my wide-eyed and sexually ambivalent best friend was in need of a little...how shall I say...coaching. Guidance  Brainstorming. 

Of course, I gave her a hand. Two in fact. 

If you want to hear her account of the story, she wrote about her experience here.

From what I can remember, and it is a bit hazy, we decided to squirrel away in a super secret local and practice our porning. After many bottles of wine, probably the reason for the thick haze, and a fair amount of bread consumed. We produced something I never thought I'd be capable of writing. Not-so-horrible fan-fiction called Fifty Shades of Green where the Hulk shows Pepper Pots his little monster. Oh, Bruce.

Oh, and ten pounds were gained. Combined, you silly ninnies. I'd have to eat my weight in sweets to gain ten pounds in two days. As much as I love pastries and cakes and biscuits, I don't think I'd be able to manage 9 stone in forty-eight hours.

I'm proud to say, Zoe is now in touch with her feminine side. She no longer thinks the act of self-pleasuring is a sin that will mar her pristine soul and give her a one way ticket to hell. Mostly because I lied to her and told her it was a completely normal and natural thing. I figure if I have to go to hell, she has to come with me. 

Our rough copies have been submitted for approval. We are waiting on word. Until then, I am going to look for ways to ease my hand cramp.

  

Holidays

I took July off unintentionally.

If you miss my blogs, I have been drafting the occasional one for the Pankhearst gals. Although according to E & T, I am a Pankhearst gal. It's hard to get used to being part of something like this. Not because they are crazy birds and hard to work with. Though they are crazy. Because I've never done anything like this before. 

It's long past my bedtime. I actually went to sleep and woke up to the rain hitting my window. A lovely way to be brought back from the sleeping dead. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get back to la-la-land. Or dreamland, whatever you prefer to call it.  

I've been thinking about this writing endeavour. 

Is it for me? 

They say a lot of writers have doubts. 

Are they this clawing? This relentless? 

I like what I've written so far, but I'm not a natural. It takes me a long time to craft something. Sometimes I grow envious of how easily others wield the mighty pen. Or keyboards. But wielding keyboards doesn't seem plausible. 

It could be lack of sleep talking.

London is a madhouse. So I'll be up visiting Zoe this weekend. I'm sure she'll coddle some sense into me. No matter what happens in life I know she'll always take care of me. She's my pet. 

Bollocks to writing. Cheers to the upcoming getaway. 

Zoe

Relationships are hard.

All of them. Not just the kind between lovers.


Take for example Zoe. My best mate who keeps me going when the towel so needs to be tossed in. 

She posted a blog today all about how boring her life is. You can read it here.

The reality is, her life isn't nearly as boring as she makes it out to be. So what if she still lives at home and doesn't have a boyfriend. It isn't like I'm beating the men off with a stick either, and my one bedroom flat is a bit on the depressing side. She's single by choice, though. At home by choice too. And she lives in a gorgeous place. Utterly stunning.

Last year she was dating this bloke I absolutely couldn't stand. Bit of a prat, he was. Treated her like a Queen though. Looking back, I'm sure I was just jealous because he took up her time. Since she lives in the country and I up in grimy London, I don't get to see her as much. When she has a boy kicking about, I see her even less. That's not a moan or anything. Just saying I love the extra time together us being single gives. 


What I'm going on about is, I don't know how I've managed to keep her interested.

Friendships are often like girlfriend/boyfriend relationships. There are ups and downs. Fights. Cattiness. You have to keep the other person interested. Romance them from time to time. Make them feel important.

Sometimes I forget to do that.

And then there's the mocking. Which I can only apologise for.

Apologies

I feel the need to apologise for my disappearance. It isn't that I don't love you. And I do feel guilty about not checking in. But the cold, hard fact is that I've been busy. Really busy. Too busy to post important blog updates and keep my two followers entertained.

What have I been up to?

I've been working hard with the girls over at Pankhearst to turn out some quality writing. I'm part of a collaborative effort to deliver punchy stories to an eager public. That's you!

Hopefully I will have something to show you soon. You can read a bit of my story on the website linked above and I highly encourage you to take a gander. I imagine this is going to be hugely successful and you will all want to be on board from the word go.

Also, please take a look at my friend Zoe's blog. She is far lovelier than I will ever be and blogs more often as well.

Mental Illness

Yesterday I participated in a discussion on Twitter for LitChat. This was the first time I'd ever done something like this. It was, to say the least, interesting. The subject was mental illness in literature. I wasn't sure the protocol for interacting, so I started out by simply mentioning books I knew that had main characters who were affected by mental illness, or books which were centralised around it.

After several suggestions, the conversation turned to why characters with these disorders are so engaging and memorable.

I ventured a guess that it is because all of us have been touched by mental illness. Meaning, we all know someone who has battled these diseases, if not ourselves. Whether they are trying to battle through depression, struggling with an eating disorder, or working to come to terms with schizophrenia. We have been witnesses to how close minded society is when it comes to these sorts of illnesses.

If we don't see a wound it's hard to come to terms with the sickness.

The books which touch on or centralise around mental health interest us because it is exploring an area so many of us live, but which society treats as taboo.

This is just a fleeting blog post on what was discussed, but I would like to see a light shone on mental illness. So people can understand it and realise how numbing and life changing it is. Not to mention how rampant.

Here are ten books and their links which touch on mental illness:

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest
I Know This Much Is True
Hamlet
Girl, Interrupted
Fight Club
Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night Time
She's Come Undone
The Gargoyle 
The Bell Jar
Prozac Nation