Thursday 20 October 2011

Role People

This is a carefully chosen title. I ought to start by setting the scene. Sorry for the degree of Vauge - blog characters are people too.

There I am - head to toe in black, shoes held on with safety-pinned elastic, playing at being a theatre tech. It seems that a large part of playing at being a theatre tech involves slouching in the middle of empty auditoriums wearing black and looking sleepy. Only an observation, and what I happened to be doing at the point where our story starts.

People are on stage, practising for doing their Thing that evening. My natural place at this point would be on the stage doing the practising, but this year is different because I've been running around mental inside my own life and have just made it back. The people on stage remain my people all the same.

That evening I'm still wearing black, but lurking in the wings doing my techie impression. I'm careful to be in the right place to watch my people do their Thing, even if I can't see it all.

Scene set. On with the thinking. By trade I'm a Scottish Country Dancer, as are many people on this planet, but none of them ever earn a living by it. Their Real Life Job finances the dancing, but if you asked the little honest person inside their head, they'd be dancers by trade. It's a trade that I learnt young, a respectable number of years ago, so only snippets of the learning process remain implanted as memories. That said, the ones that took root have stayed put. I remember being at a dance, and trying to copy my Dad. I am now old and wise, and understand that it is inevitable that we'll all dance like our parents in the end. My Dad was already old and wise by this point, and said that there were better people to copy than him, and told me who to watch. Watch So-and-so, take note and you won't go wrong. Parental advice like that is not to be sneezed at, and so I did. Faithfully, and to this day. It was pretty good advice too. My dancing aint perfect but at least I have my own bad habits and not my Dad's hand-me-downs. All these years, I've had myself a role model, and a damned good one at that.

But role models are people too, and herein lies the problem. One day the illusion gets shattered. It may have been slowly fading and cracking at the edges, but there's still got to be a point of absolute shatter. If they've been a really good role model this gets delayed, I reckon. The little person in everyone's head who likes things to stay The Way They Are is quite good at keeping the role model on the pedestal, hiding the things the Real You doesn't want to admit just yet.

And this is what happened. Guess I'm a grown-up now.

Things I haven't blogged about yet

I have a smartphone. By this I mean I have a phone which thinks it is smarter than me. On a good day it will let me check multiple different email accounts, use facebook, use the GPS map function and help me track buses around Edinburgh (I live in Aberdeen). To save my ego from being damaged by the sheer superiority of the phone's capability I like to turn off it's fanciest functions and restrict it to phoning, texting, writing notes to myself and playing sudoku. Except I don't ever notice when it rings, and I'm afraid of phoning people. Call that texting, notes-to-self and sudoku then. Oh yes, I has Kool.

Why am I telling you this? Because when self-restricted to these three functions I do actually use them. And when in Edinburgh this summer (resolutely navigating by sense of direction only) I made a wee list of "Stuff I Should Blog About". I hereby resolve to commence blogging about those things, if only I can recall what I actually meant. I have a part time job this month, and intend to write a novel next month, so now seems to be the time.

See future posts for actual blogs about these things. Cheers.

Magic Powder

No, not fairydust or illegal drugs, or even legal drugs, but some bizarre sort of hair styling product. Warning: This post will probably turn in to a minor rant about hairdressers and hair products and the expensive pointlessness of it all.

This morning I had my first haircut in many, many months - my first professional haircut in a good while longer than that. And I've learned it's best to be brave when it comes to haircuts, and in my case the shorter the better as it'll no doubt be a while until I concede to go again.

The washing bit is nice - a good head massage and the comforting feeling that this shampoo is likely to be much better than my own, and even if the hairdresser is crap, there's only so much Wrong that can happen at this stage.

I get sat down, dripping wet and draped in a big plasticy sheet in front of a mirror. Attractive. What do I want? I explain my conditions: I'm lazy, it needs to be short and very very easy to look after, beyond that, I'm open to suggestions. Much waving and pointing ensued at this point - we take this bit back to here and leave this like so and thin this and froof that and so on and so forth. Frankly, I wasn't paying attention, and she was enthusiastic, so I said yes.

I now have two haircuts, one on each side of my head.

There's a diagonal line across the back of my head joining them together. At this point I'll reserve judgement as to whether I like it or not. Between the two I like the left better than the right, but I also quite like the right. Trying one haircut at a time is just so conventional. Like it or not, there is one thing I shall reluctantly admit. My hair is cooler than I am. This weekend, between midnight and the early hours of the morning you shall find me in my bed, curled up with my stuffed toy cat and fast asleep. I shall be sleeping bald. My cool new hair will be in an expensive nightclub, wearing designer shoes, drinking Jagerbombs and snogging strangers. It's that cool.  I am desperately trying to think of ways to de-cool this hairstyle to avoid this. Suggestions on a postcard.

Back to the fairydust. Between these two simultaneous hairstyles I have been shampoo'ed, conditioned, conditioned with something else, cut, razored, clipped, moused, blow-dried, straightened, hairsprayed and "Magic Powder"ed. Oh yes, magic powder. I asked, you see. "To make it all big". That's it, all I got. Magic powder to make it all big. Genius. It's like I've been back-combed by tiny little fairies.

And so all day I've (on occasions, mostly I've been getting on with Real Life, emailing and eating, walking places and washing up, and such like) been musing on what this stuff could be. It feels horrible. Dry and sticky and the same time. If I smoosh my fingers through my hair they come out white and create a huge amount of friction when you try to rub it off. Almost rubbery. I've seen this before, now where?

Lightbulb goes on. Ping! I got it. She's gone and covered my head (paying particular attention to my left ear) with Slip Stop, dammit.

http://www.rscds.org/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&category_id=7&product_id=189&vmcchk=1&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=4

This is Slip Stop (for the uninitiated amongst you). It goes on the soles of dance shoes and on church hall floors to stop old people falling over too much.

In a roundabout way I feel better now. My too-cool haircut has been achieved through dubious magical hair products akin to those used by Scottish country dancers. This levels out the cool factor, and I can once again be seen in public with my own head.

Friday 7 October 2011

More Success!

Dear Blog, I have another job. I start in two week's time.

Somebody is looking out for me today.

Success!

Dear Blog, I have a job. I start on Tuesday.

Busy bunnies

I am today the aforementioned busy bunny. Or pupu, in Finnish. I have three things of great enough excitement to report today, dear readers. 


News item #1. Yesterday I had an interview. I wore heels and a skirt and make-up and ironed things and everything. Yes, I'm still sporting a hairstyle better suited to a girl of primary school age, but I like to think I have a certain skill with a Kirby grip. I showed up exactly ten minutes early. I know some go for the super-keen fifteen minutes early, but I know myself - ten minutes of waiting, not looking nervous, not making eye contact with anyone is the limit of what I can stand. The interview takes place in a corridor full of boxes of stock where someone has pushed a few aside to fit in two chairs, but it was cute. I like to think I do better at interview than I do on the basis of a CV or first application. I answered all the questions, didn't swear or fart or insult anyone, so we'll see how it goes. I even tried to sound like I had a clue about what was going on. Mr Manager Dude was interviewing five people, and needed to hire two, so the odds are good. He even promised to let us know either way last night or tomorrow morning. It's only half eight so I'm not exactly expecting the phone to ring right now, but hopefully I'll know either way by about lunchtime. If I do get it, it's a job till the end of the Christmas rush, and then a one in three chance of a permanent part-time job. 


News item #2. In the form of an email yesterday evening
Your ..... application - invitation to self schedule group assessment
Dear... I am pleased to invite you to attend an assessment centre at ..... Aberdeen. To choose a suitable date and time please log in to the application centre
Sounds a lot like an interview. Yay, go me, woop, etc. I'm holding off selecting a time for it until I hear back from yesterday's Mr Manager Dude. 


News item #3... is about a job vacancy a friend has passed on to me. It's for a full time (three year!) teaching job at a fancy school about two and a half hours away from where I am now. I am woefully underqualified for it, but if I decide that it excites me enough I will still give it my best shot. So I've got some thinking to do about my priorities in this world. I'm comfortable in Aberdeen, but am I tied to the place? What things make me feel tied to it and are they worth staying for? Do I want to be a teacher? I've got 12 days before the deadline for applications. Reckon that gives me about a week to make my mind up.   

Wednesday 5 October 2011

The Rules

Picture the scene. Me, sitting in my lovely little caravan. It is lovely and cute and comfortable and the sun always shines now that I am elsewhere and thinking back. I am thinking about My Life And Future. Right now, job hunting is the thing to be doing, but it's not the most structured thing to be doing, and I am rubbish without structure. So I wrote rules, and these are them. I feel like sharing today. In no particular order of importance:

#1. Bedtime is 11pm, Morning alarm goes off at 7am, and no snoozing. Or not much snoozing. Or something like that.

#2. Be a useful person. This means cleaning and fixing and helping out. Volunteering and not getting paid is better than being bored and not getting paid.

#3. Keep applying for stuff. Carry CVs.

#4. Don't moan about it. Other people are starving and homeless.

#5. Cheap stuff is good, eat cheaply, live very cheaply.

#6. God is good, and has it all figured out. He won't let me starve. All I really have to do is pray and trust.

#7. Be imaginative.

#8. Limit internet time.

#9. The car is for necessary journeys only.

#10. Stay smart, get a haircut, iron shirts.

So there.

Interview outfit

Job hunt report. Progress is being made. 


On Monday I gave away two copies of my CV. Only two I tell you, poor show kid. That said I did go home with a list of places that were looking for online applications. Yesterday I applied for/enquired about 5 different jobs. One said no thanks, it's gone. 


But then life got more exciting - one of the places I'd given a CV on Monday phoned back - I got myself an interview. And it's tomorrow! Must remember not to call Mr Potential Future Employer Blokey "Dude" again. 


Email inbox this morning. One no thank you, but also a glimmer of hope:

Good news!  You have passed the first stage of your application for the position of ... We would now like you to complete an online assessment so we can find out more about you.  
And tonight I'll get to read about an even less likely but much more exciting job vacancy that might be for me. Probably isn't, but I'll give it a good Think anyway.

Also discovered yesterday was a Research Assistant position in my old uni department that I'm mostly qualified for, but not entirely. A bit scary but I'll follow it up all the same.

Today's plan therefore follows thus:
#1 Online assessment, email the uni. #2 Lunch, possibly whilst being big brave grown-up type person and telephoning the council. #3 Job Centre Appointment. #4 CV-ing Union Sq. #5 Home for tea, maybe more online job seeking. #6 Teaching a bunch of newbies to dance.

So much for watching telly in bed.

Tuesday 4 October 2011

Staying Awake

I think I may come to find motivation a challenge. There's a point mid-afternoon when I'd like nothing else than a comfy warm cozy little nap, but I know fine well it would turn in to a wasted afternoon. That and my bed is unmade and beneath a pile of unpacking.

My next job is tackling that pile of unpacking, but I fancied updating my adoring fans with today's achievements. I have put in applications for 4 jobs and phoned about another, which has already gone. Three more to follow up today a the very least before I'm off out for a free tea.

Monday 3 October 2011

Unemployment

Today a new chapter of my life begins. The summer is over the autumn begins, and I am no longer a student, no longer a volunteer Summer Helper in a scenic caravan, I am now a statistic. Today I phoned a freephone number, told a stranger lots of personal information, and became a Jobseeker. I am officially unemployed. The great job hunt begins, and this is what I shall be doing until I am successful. I hope and pray that this won't be too long.

This blog seems like a clever wee place to document how I get on, what life on jobseeker's allowance feels like, what I do each day, how well I stick to my own rules* and how well I deal with the reverse culture shock  of returning to my own life. It's going to become a "This is what I did today" sort of blog.

So today I got up, dressed smartly (I looked good, if out of place at the jobcentre. Brown and pink-ish fatface skirt which came from a clothes swap, brown jumper I've owned for years, brown tights and tan cowboy-ish boots, plus a cream wooley sleeveless cardigan thing. I'm going to make it, or variants of it, my interview outfit.) and left the house. Flatmate has kindly given me a groupon haircut (right now I look like someone who had a neat, short hairstyle about  months ago and has now got to a point that is most kindly described as "shaggy". Perfect for hippying it around in the cairngorms but not the neat tidy professional look I'd rather be sporting) so I went with her to print it out, and headed in to town.

Stop #1 Jobcentre Plus. Here's a phone number, off you go and phone it. Oh, and there are some computer's in there you can use to search for jobs. The computer things were actually quite useful. They let you print off little bits of paper with vacancy details on. I spent a while playing with it. Anything in Aberdeen, or thereabouts, that didn't ask for a particular qualification or experience. All I've really done though is found vacancies and printed them off. Applying is the next step.

Stop #2 Hairdressers. Nope, hairdressers are cool funky types who just don't do Mondays. No-one to answer the phone either on Mondays. Tomorrow morning, bang on 9am I'll be on the phone.

Handed in 3 CVs on my way back and made a list of places with adverts in the windows asking for online applications. One of the places even sounded like I might have a chance. No prizes for guessing what I'll be doing tomorrow.

My achievements for the rest of the day also include making a vat of very yummy carrot soup - yesterday I got hold of 2kg of carrots for 10p - and a few loads of laundry. I'm off to wash up and make spag bol for tea. There's even a chance of a swim tonight - for which I will try using my out-of-date student card to get in cheap. This has set me to thinking about the things I enjoy. In short I'm happy when I'm busy, and I'm very happy when I'm helping other folk out and looking after them. I love to host. I have so many pie-in-the-sky dreams but one of them sees me running a coffee shop or a restaurant or both. Sadly what I lack right now is and proper cooking experience of qualifications. This has got me thinking about back doors in to this. I plan to apply for a bundle of Kitchen Porter and waitressing jobs with this in mind.

That'll do. I'm off. Something to leave you with - QI reliably informs me that we make our best decisions when we really need the toilet. So next time you see me hopping up and down outside the bathroom door with my legs crossed - ask me what I want to do with the rest of my life.