Getting Wiggy With It

It was my sister's Michael Jackson themed birthday party on the weekend. I had a good time though I was a bit worried about the wig either not sitting right or lasting the night. I still don't think it sat right or looked like it did on the cover but people seemed to get it. I showed this guy on chat a photo of it and he said, "You're hair looks different." LOL! Of course it does it's a wig! It was an extreme close up so I don't blame him really. He loved the red dress. A lot of people did. Not enough single straight men at the party but I still got a few compliments.

I remember a stunned look on my mum's best friend's face. (Pity I didn't get to talk to her that night). And her partner told me red was my colour. He should know he teaches design at RMIT. (Not the site I once cleaned at. No I did the boring accounting floor and other business stuff).

Not everyone dressed up but people did come up with some amazing efforts (as you can see below). Very gratifying for my sister. My mum "stole" the green walk sign. Her excuse is she is the mother of the birthday girl! But the guy as the Moon "stole" my sister's glittery jacket so it all works out.


I think I have the anti-climax/Monday blues. Today is the first day I could have gone back to work on the script but I just feel lonely and bored and rather shitty about having to go back to work this Monday.

I can't help feeling like no one gives a shit about me. I'm thinking family, especially after the party, and then reading Facebook comments. Makes me thinking running off with Terry might not be so bad. Start my own family with him and forget about them.

I think I just don't feel important enough within my family. I know I'm projecting my own sense of worthlessness of being a cleaner and still at home. No relationship etc., etc...!

Of course it was Molly's night too and I'm happy she did have a great time after getting anxious over so many things in the lead up to the night. But I didn't seem to connect among the cousins as I saw them do. I had a group of friends at the party so I wasn't shy or lonely as I can get at some parties, however I still had these moments of feeling like the odd one out. The Outsider. I'm still "hot" though. Groan. Oh my God!

Oh Shit!

I had a fairly shitty start to my work day. A classic case of the "Mondays." I just can't stand being there or doing the same old shit everyday. It has been over a year now, more than long enough to try any one's patience. I felt crappy before I got there, (as the Men in my life may have noticed), and I felt crappy once I started. Somehow I got through it. Perhaps because they did steam cleaning today and that cut down dramatically on my vacuuming. (Although truth be told I get pissed off when they steam clean because to my cleaner's eyes I just see so much stuff that they miss).

Anyway! I actually finished on time which is usually a cause for celebration. But no, that's not the best thing to happen to me tonight. Not by a long shot. On my way home from the tram stop I usually stop to piggy-back some free wireless on my iPod touch; check the weather and my email. All I got was one email, but it was very exciting. It was from my old boss David and though extremely short it was good news. In fact all it said was: Amy, We've been invited by Disney USA to submit scripts for the series. D.

Hence the "Oh Shit!" Which was my initial reply to him. It's just shocking, and the last thing I was expecting to hear. Now that I've calmed down a bit I have to ask him what this actually means. And I also have to admit that I haven't been working on my script since last year. Once I stopped to go overseas I never really got started again. FUCK! Talk about screwing up. I've already replied asking him to tell me everything and what is expected, (if anything), of me now at this stage. [Omigod! We've reached another stage!!] But now I have to wait and see what that means.


I shall enjoy the the lift in my spirits for now though, as you can see in my photo. That's also the book I was so supposed to adapt into a script. I have started! But yes I may have shot myself in the foot by giving up so recently. That foot that wanted to get in the door.

Food Glorious Food

On Monday I got a phone call to come in for an interview for a kitchen hand position I had applied for around midnight on the weekend while I was wasting time online. The company name looked familiar and when they told me the address I knew it was the place I had applied to almost two years ago as a dishwasher. Back then they asked me in the next day but not to do dishes, as I would have expected, but rather count napkins and wrap them in cling-wrap. I guess I failed to impress because I never heard from them again. I wonder how I did this time. It’s really hard to tell because the interview itself lasted less than five minutes. The questions were pretty much what they asked me over the phone that morning. The only time I felt I stumbled was not having any immediate questions for them. I thought, shit this is happening too fast, I never even thought about what I’d want to ask them. All I could think of was “How many positions are there?” Just one. They’ll call if I get it. I don’t think I will. But of course feeling relatively okay after the interview I played the What My Life Would Be Like If I Got A New Job game. (I know, so dangerous for someone with my personality). What I was really excited about was the possibility of going back to tap dancing.

I miss it so much. It was the best thing I had going for me for the brief time I got to do it. I'm not the greatest student - it didn't help that I started when I was working the graveyard cleaning shift and thus was tired out of my brain to begin with - but it was so much fun and the people were really nice. Look at my teacher.

She's beautiful! And not just good looking, (for a blonde), but such a lovely person: always happy, laughing and joking. It's hard to explain but I think about it so much. I listen to some of the songs from routines for comfort. I often think about steps and want to do them where ever I am. Including the lifts at work when I'm cleaning them. And fuck it sometimes I do a bit. Who cares what the cameras see?

My original plan for Monday was to see Julie & Julia before work. When they asked me in for the interview I almost said I wasn’t free because of the film. Madness I know. Instead I just had to bring everything with me to the interview, just in case. It turned out fine. I thought I was going to be late for the interview but I got there with ten minutes to spare and as it turned out I was done with my five minutes (or rather less) interview at 1 o’clock the time I had to be there.

It was a nice film, full of food, most of which I wouldn’t be game to eat but it all looked good. I was a bit jealous of Julie’s blogging success. (Of course I’m a petty person. And I want to be a writer just as much as her!) She had structure and purpose which is what I wanted this to have too but as you know Go Girl! never took off. I write a bit about work but I can’t find anything nice to say about it. You know what they say, “If you can’t think of anything nice to say don’t say anything at all.”

Being a kitchen hand isn’t something I desperately want to do. Cleaning, cooking, I can’t help making “woman’s work” connections. Like playing “house” was really preparing me for adulthood, without the husband and kids bit. There’s nothing wrong with these jobs but...some feminist ideals I can't express properly but which end up making me seem sexist in the end. Of the two I actually enjoy cooking, but like in the movie it’s a pleasurable past time I don’t want it to be my career. Well obviously Julia Child was very happy cooking and ended up making it a great career for herself, but she belongs to the celebrity chef class. Besides if I cooked that much I’d probably start to recent it. Being a kitchen hand is still too close to the grunt work, making it nice for Other people with better (less embarrassing) jobs and decent salaries. See I am a snob! Sigh!

Oh well it being Friday now and not receiving a call I don’t think I got the job. It’s disappointing but not as much as the first time. At least I have a job at the moment. Even one that upsets me so much I do stupid things like cry, cut myself or drink. I’ve managed a hat-trick some nights. More recently than I care to admit.

The Old Man didn’t really want me to get the job* and even my potential new “uncle” was trying to be upbeat by saying if I did get it he wouldn’t be able to see me during the day. Well so far I’ve been too shy to meet anyway. Sometimes it’s like, “God do I need another married man to hang out with?” And other times it feel like it could be fun. It is a good to have something to do be before the agony of work. And I don’t mean sex – shit, if that’s not obvious by now I am, publically and online, stating I am a BAD writer. No I just like the company. It’s not quite the same as saying we’re friends. (Friends with Benefits, gag! You know the married party came up with the one!) That’s the bright side Terry should keep in mind. If I got a day job obviously it makes it a lot harder for me to go off with married men. Or any man for that matter.

*Oh I tell a lie of course he would be please for me if I got a new job. He knows how much I hate cleaning and working those hours. A day job, full time hours to boot, would make a HUGE difference in my life.

In These Shoes?

I said "In these shoes? I doubt you'd survive." I said "Honey, let's do it. Let's stay right here."

Do you like them?

I’m not normally the kind of woman who gets excited by a new pair of shoes but these babies – hideous kinky, aren’t they? – got me through work last night. (I’ve been beating myself up before work for not getting on with my scriptwriting). You see they’re a bit extravagant, they’re not everyday shoes by far, so of course I have to justify buying them. (Annoyingly they were surrounded by shoes on sale but there was no red sticker, $10 off, these ones). Well they go well with a new red dress I bought. This dress I plan to wear at my sister’s birthday party next month. It’s fancy dress and I intend to go as Diana Ross, the Supremes Diana. I really feel like being glamorous and girlie at the moment. Just need to feel sexy? I don’t know. A distraction? I was smiling a lot to myself at work thinking how great I’ll look at this party. Singing Supreme songs as I worked, not always softly or in my head.

I was originally going to my sister’s party as the cute Michael Jackson of Jackson Five days. It’s easy to put together a mismatching 70s outfit. In fact last weekend we found a top I could wear at a vintage/recycled clothing store. I bought the top but I was really disappointed to give up on the Diana idea. I told myself this would be cheaper and I couldn’t get the perfect Diana wig I found online because they don’t ship outside of America. Well fuck it! There are ways around that. Being cute is fine but I really want to be sexy. LOL. An ego boost. I’ve been mistaken for a boy and man numerous times, and the last time wasn’t that long ago, so being ultra girlie appeals. Man I feel like a woman. Mind you only in the safe context and fantasy of a dress-up party at my auntie’s house. Not out on the town, God no! (Sorry, Terry I know you want to take me out in that dress. Although, now I have the shoes...maybe). Actually, this red dress was "justified" as something I could wear at an awards ceremony when Go Girl! makes good. "And best script for a children's television show goes to...." (It was also on sale).

I need a distraction. I started reading my script on the tram, the highlighted David version, and I couldn’t get past the first page. The corrections, although made with the best of intentions - (lessons rather than scolding) - and the way I was already feeling about the script, I found it devastating. My ego being kicked one too many times. I’m hoping, it being a new day, I won’t take the criticism so personally once I get back to re-reading my work. I know I have to remind myself this is a style of writing I’m not used to. And if it turns out I’m not good at it that doesn’t mean I’m a bad writer. I can’t stand this false optimism!

David said he’d be busy again in February whether or not that means he’ll have no time to help me I don’t know for sure. I’m letting January get away from me. Shit! I need to get down to some serious work on my script; or just let it go. Sad to say those shoes made me feel better after that tram ride into work. A new job would leave me ecstatic.

January 21 2010

P.S. I meant to add another justification for buying the wig. It's linked to the stuff above, about being mistaken for a man. With that wig - that's on it's way, woo hoo! - I could also pass for a drag queen. I already have my name: Glamour Ross. Perfect, no?

Getting Lackey

I’ve been trying to get a new job since I can’t stand my cleaning one. I’ve been applying to stuff in television, when I can find it, or entry level things in retail or admin – where people with arts degrees go to forge a funky/alternative existence.

Last month in my random job search on Seek I came across a job for a Deputy Editor at Crikey.com Looking at the criteria I decided I could do most of those things, maybe fake the rest. It didn’t matter really as I found the ad after the due date but they had given a name and an email address of someone to apply to. A real person rather than the standard Seek procedure. Finally taking the advice of friends I decided I would apply to them directly, as a shit kicker. The office lackey, basically willing to do anything for some experience and a job that won't embarrass me. In the original ad they asked for a sample of writing. I collected some posts on cleaning from this blog. Although I realise now that Lust And Dust would have better examples of how much I hate cleaning. I did this last night and I don’t really know what to expect. I very rarely hear from anyone when I send off resumes. (And I don’t send off enough of them!) It was worth a shot anyway.

In the meantime I haven't done much with my script. I was tempted to send David an email saying I don't think I am a writer and thanks for the help anyway. I'm glad I didn't send that. Yesterday on my way to work I re-read the script treatment and it's not a bad story. It does seem like a bit of work though. I keep staying up late and getting up late so I fuck myself over and don't get much of anything done before work. Fear of failure if ever I saw it. I should at least take the first step and re-read my script. David's already seen that and gone through it with yellow highlighter. He didn't tell me to give up then. But I'm still scared it will lead to nothing.

In a book shop near work I've found a special Go Girl! bag that comes with two books I've already read. I sort of want that bag, like a good luck charm. I also saw an Oscar the Grouch toy I think I could attach to my back pack. I thought, "Which one am I? The cleaner or the script writer?"

Is it too obvious to say I’m lacking something?