Since my last blog post, I have received several messages from people telling me to keep at it, that what I am doing is admirable and more importantly that I am not alone... that several people my age are trying to break into their desired industries and that things will fall into place for me too.
It really touched me that people took the time to write to me to help cheer me up and motivate me to keep going. What was particularly moving though, was that some of the people that got in touch were people I haven't seen or spoken to in years, but they still took the time to write. So, for all of you who wrote to me, you have my sincerest thank you.
And talking of being sincere, as I skimmed over in the last entry, I haven't been writing as much recently because I have been a bit down and I think it would be good to get it off my chest. I don't think I expected trying to change careers to be this emotionally difficult. I'm not stupid, I knew I would have to start at the bottom and work my way up and work hard - which I am more than happy to do - but I don't think I was prepared for the general 'joblessness' bits in between; the long periods of inactivity, having your emails/CVs ignored and the fortnightly visits to the job centre. Having to contend with 16 and 17 year olds for the job you want doesn't do much for your self-esteem either.
To use a cliché, it's an emotional rollercoaster, there are moments of great exhilaration when you get an interview or some type of opportunity, but great disappointment when you are told you don't have enough experience or the right qualifications. (The experience thing is a bugger... if they gave you the job, you would gain the experience you need to do the job well!) The qualifications thing particularly hurts too as I always excelled at school and university and got top grades, and so I end up kicking myself saying I should have gone to a different university, I should have done things differently. So, recently I have been focussing on the negatives and thinking about all the things I don't have and didn't do. I don't have a job, which means I don't have any money, social life or car. I didn't do a postgrad in broadcast journalism. I am probably not going to get married soon like all my friends are, and babies are certainly out of the question.
But then I think of all the things I DO have. I have a wonderful, supportive boyfriend who treats me like a princess and worships the ground I walk on. I have a father who has let me (and the fella) invade his home once more, rent free, while I achieve my goal. I have an 11 week old nephew who is just adorable. I may not be 18, but I have life experience behind me and have lived abroad.
So, thanks to your messages of support, I am going to try and make the transition into 2014 a positive one. Things are already looking up, I am seeing this year out in Spain and have had to cut the holiday short and change my flight back home to an earlier one because I have an actual face-to-face interview at the BBC! Can you believe it?! Fingers, toes, eyes and everything else that you can crossed!
Another thing I am taking out of this experience is that it has helped me to contribute to an important project that Key 103 are working on. On the 2nd of January they are doing a news special concerning the increasing number of young people suffering from depression as a result of unemployment, which has, in some cases, sadly led to them committing suicide.
I interviewed a clinical psychologist for the special, and then, I myself was interviewed. Now, I am not claiming to be actually depressed, but I offered my perspective as someone who is unemployed and can relate to how fighting to "make it" in the industry you want can leave you feeling worthless at times. I can only imagine how much worse this is if you have the stress of rent to pay or even children to feed. I think the transition from uni to work is a difficult one, and is one many people struggle with but don't really want to talk about for fear of seeming weak.
If anything good can come out of me feeling this way, I hope that at least one person will hear that interview, realise they are not alone and talk to someone about it, as I do with you. The support you have given me, I have been able to pass on, in the hope that it will help others. You should feel very proud of yourselves! ;)
So, again, my sincerest thank you. Let's make 2014 a good one :)
Sunday, 22 December 2013
Tuesday, 17 December 2013
Merry Christmas!
It's been a while since I have updated the blog, so I thought I ought to let you know how things are progressing. The problem is, I am always waiting for something especially wonderful to happen, worthy of your precious time to read about or at least for inspiration to strike for me to write something humourous or profound that might strike a chord in you. Sadly, nothing like that has happened.
In fact, if I am honest, I've been a bit down lately. I don't want to dwell too much on it as my intention isn't to bring you down, but I have to admit that sometimes the job hunt feels like an uphill struggle and that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. It may just be the time of year or it may just be me, but hey, I guess sometimes you just gotta keep on swimmin'. (God bless Dory from Finding Nemo!)
I am still volunteering at Key 103 once a week to "keep my hand in" which is great and have even been back to help out for a day at the production company I was at previously. A couple of weeks ago I got all excited as I thought I had the opportunity to interview Gary Barlow - now that would have been something to blog about! - but obviously it didn't happen.
In the meanwhile, I have some potentially important meetings lined up for January, I have applied to a few jobs which I am waiting to hear back from and I have a few more ideas up my sleeve, so here's hoping.
I'd just like to thank you for taking the time to read this and for your continued support over these past few months. I really appreciate it and wish you the most wonderful and Christmassy of Christmasses. I think 2014 is set to be an incredible year. 13 is meant to be unlucky anyway, so I hope that your 2014 is filled with love, laughter, success and happiness and is everything that 2013 wasn't... in a positive way :) xxx
In fact, if I am honest, I've been a bit down lately. I don't want to dwell too much on it as my intention isn't to bring you down, but I have to admit that sometimes the job hunt feels like an uphill struggle and that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. It may just be the time of year or it may just be me, but hey, I guess sometimes you just gotta keep on swimmin'. (God bless Dory from Finding Nemo!)
I am still volunteering at Key 103 once a week to "keep my hand in" which is great and have even been back to help out for a day at the production company I was at previously. A couple of weeks ago I got all excited as I thought I had the opportunity to interview Gary Barlow - now that would have been something to blog about! - but obviously it didn't happen.
In the meanwhile, I have some potentially important meetings lined up for January, I have applied to a few jobs which I am waiting to hear back from and I have a few more ideas up my sleeve, so here's hoping.
I'd just like to thank you for taking the time to read this and for your continued support over these past few months. I really appreciate it and wish you the most wonderful and Christmassy of Christmasses. I think 2014 is set to be an incredible year. 13 is meant to be unlucky anyway, so I hope that your 2014 is filled with love, laughter, success and happiness and is everything that 2013 wasn't... in a positive way :) xxx
Saturday, 16 November 2013
My first week at Key 103
I guess it's called work experience for a reason... and what an experience it's been so far!
Some companies let you shadow their workers and ask a few questions, while others make the most of your presence to get the tasks done that nobody else wants to do (i.e. photocopying, tea-making and general cleaning). Key 103, however, has been completely different. From the get-go, I have been thrown into activities at the deep end, which is really how I function best, by doing.
Without wanting to sound like a rubbish version of a rather popular Craig David song, here's how the week went:
On Monday, I went out onto the streets to collect some voxes about how some ladies feel about breastfeeding, and whether they think a new government scheme to encourage mums to do it for longer is a good idea. I had a mini panic attack when I got back to the office and couldn't find the file on the dictaphone. I thought that maybe, by pressing stop, I had somehow deleted it and thought that all my hard work would be for nothing. (It's not easy trying to get people on the street to talk to you when you have a microphone in your hand, people are a lot shyer than you'd think!) Luckily, it was on there and everything was fine. Phew. A woman did start talking over me though before I had finished asking the question, and I was told I had ruined a really good sound bite there. Lesson learned: Keep questions to a minimum!
On Tuesday, on the way into the office, I heard the voxes I had collected being used in the news bulletins. Happy days! In the news that day, the aftermath of the typhoon in the Philippines was taking precedence, so I was asked to find if there were any Filipinos in the Manchester area. I found the details of a gentleman called Ramil, and organised an interview with him for 1pm that day. He came in, with a colleague, and I interviewed the pair of them. It was an incredibly moving interview as they had at least 14 friends and relatives over there and they didn't know if they were safe and well due to the lack of communication. During some parts of the interview, they were on the edge of tears. I had another dictaphone dilemma when the batteries died halfway through, but luckily, the machine is apparently cleverer than I am and I didn't lose any data. I started learning how to edit audio, and I then wrote up the interview, which is now online at Key 103's page. They were so grateful for the coverage and he sent me some text messages thanking me for the opportunity. Best of all is that later on that night, he got in touch to let me know that all of his friends and family had been located and they were all now in a safe place. It was so sweet of him to let me know, I was really touched.
Wednesday was by far the scariest yet most exciting day. I was signed off to use Key 103's company cars, and was told to get some voxes from some firemen who were on strike over their pension dispute. Fine... in theory. I was given the keys to a smart car, and I had never driven one before. It's a semi-automatic, meaning that it had no clutch, and I spent about 10 minutes trying to figure out how to put the blasted thing into reverse. I invited another work experience girl to come along for the ride, and I bet she wished she hadn't. I don't think 'fearing for her life' would be too extreme a term. Granted, I didn't crash or kill anyone, but I got lost a couple of times. The firemen had a good laugh at me when I couldn't figure out how to reverse it. Women drivers eh? We recorded the voxes, and the plan was to send them directly from an iphone to the studio, but we had technical difficulties, so it didn't work. So, I was instructed to go back to the studio asap to drop it off.
The bad thing was, I was expected to be across the other side of the city for another interview in about five minutes. I phoned the contact and told him I would be there, and he told me not to worry. I got a little lost (again!) and was hampered by heavy traffic and roadworks, meaning that I got there late. Oops.
Still, I managed to get there in the end (a minor achievement in itself!) to interview...
They had the song "Black Heart" in the charts not long ago, and they came to Wythenshawe to help the kids at a local primary school write a song about growing up in a deprived area. They were lovely to interview and are extremely talented ladies. I also got to interview a couple of the kids about the day and the organiser. So, I headed back to the office and practiced my editing some more on the pieces I had just got, which were used the following day. In the meanwhile, I wrote up the story for their page again.
That evening, I got a phone call from a guy I had met there from ITV/Granada who said he was really impressed with me, that I wrote extremely well and my attitude was excellent. He then told me to save his number, and said if I ever needed anything to just give him a call. So, rather cheekily I said "Well, I need a job...!" to which he replied "If I were in charge of handing jobs out, I would give you one in a heartbeat, but I will definitely sort out some work experience for you". How good is that?!
On Thursday, I saw the whole news story process from start to finish, I went out onto the streets, got some voxes to see if people are excited about the Christmas markets, came back to the office, edited the audios and then wrote up the news stories, ready to be read out. It was such a useful thing to do, and the Head of News gave me lots of useful advice as to how to make the audios tighter and how to make the news stories more to their style.
Finally, on Friday, I went back for the official opening of the Christmas Markets and spoke to Councillor Pat Karney and Fine Time Fontayne, who has been in lots of things such as Corrie, Emmerdale, Heartbeat and The Bill.
I then edited the audios for the newsreader to use and spent the rest of the day organising the office.
All in all, it has been an incredible week! I am so so lucky to have been entrusted with so much responsibility, and they have sent me out to do so much alone.
Let's see what next week brings! xx
Some companies let you shadow their workers and ask a few questions, while others make the most of your presence to get the tasks done that nobody else wants to do (i.e. photocopying, tea-making and general cleaning). Key 103, however, has been completely different. From the get-go, I have been thrown into activities at the deep end, which is really how I function best, by doing.
Without wanting to sound like a rubbish version of a rather popular Craig David song, here's how the week went:
On Monday, I went out onto the streets to collect some voxes about how some ladies feel about breastfeeding, and whether they think a new government scheme to encourage mums to do it for longer is a good idea. I had a mini panic attack when I got back to the office and couldn't find the file on the dictaphone. I thought that maybe, by pressing stop, I had somehow deleted it and thought that all my hard work would be for nothing. (It's not easy trying to get people on the street to talk to you when you have a microphone in your hand, people are a lot shyer than you'd think!) Luckily, it was on there and everything was fine. Phew. A woman did start talking over me though before I had finished asking the question, and I was told I had ruined a really good sound bite there. Lesson learned: Keep questions to a minimum!
On Tuesday, on the way into the office, I heard the voxes I had collected being used in the news bulletins. Happy days! In the news that day, the aftermath of the typhoon in the Philippines was taking precedence, so I was asked to find if there were any Filipinos in the Manchester area. I found the details of a gentleman called Ramil, and organised an interview with him for 1pm that day. He came in, with a colleague, and I interviewed the pair of them. It was an incredibly moving interview as they had at least 14 friends and relatives over there and they didn't know if they were safe and well due to the lack of communication. During some parts of the interview, they were on the edge of tears. I had another dictaphone dilemma when the batteries died halfway through, but luckily, the machine is apparently cleverer than I am and I didn't lose any data. I started learning how to edit audio, and I then wrote up the interview, which is now online at Key 103's page. They were so grateful for the coverage and he sent me some text messages thanking me for the opportunity. Best of all is that later on that night, he got in touch to let me know that all of his friends and family had been located and they were all now in a safe place. It was so sweet of him to let me know, I was really touched.
Wednesday was by far the scariest yet most exciting day. I was signed off to use Key 103's company cars, and was told to get some voxes from some firemen who were on strike over their pension dispute. Fine... in theory. I was given the keys to a smart car, and I had never driven one before. It's a semi-automatic, meaning that it had no clutch, and I spent about 10 minutes trying to figure out how to put the blasted thing into reverse. I invited another work experience girl to come along for the ride, and I bet she wished she hadn't. I don't think 'fearing for her life' would be too extreme a term. Granted, I didn't crash or kill anyone, but I got lost a couple of times. The firemen had a good laugh at me when I couldn't figure out how to reverse it. Women drivers eh? We recorded the voxes, and the plan was to send them directly from an iphone to the studio, but we had technical difficulties, so it didn't work. So, I was instructed to go back to the studio asap to drop it off.
Still, I managed to get there in the end (a minor achievement in itself!) to interview...
STOOSHE
They had the song "Black Heart" in the charts not long ago, and they came to Wythenshawe to help the kids at a local primary school write a song about growing up in a deprived area. They were lovely to interview and are extremely talented ladies. I also got to interview a couple of the kids about the day and the organiser. So, I headed back to the office and practiced my editing some more on the pieces I had just got, which were used the following day. In the meanwhile, I wrote up the story for their page again.
That evening, I got a phone call from a guy I had met there from ITV/Granada who said he was really impressed with me, that I wrote extremely well and my attitude was excellent. He then told me to save his number, and said if I ever needed anything to just give him a call. So, rather cheekily I said "Well, I need a job...!" to which he replied "If I were in charge of handing jobs out, I would give you one in a heartbeat, but I will definitely sort out some work experience for you". How good is that?!
On Thursday, I saw the whole news story process from start to finish, I went out onto the streets, got some voxes to see if people are excited about the Christmas markets, came back to the office, edited the audios and then wrote up the news stories, ready to be read out. It was such a useful thing to do, and the Head of News gave me lots of useful advice as to how to make the audios tighter and how to make the news stories more to their style.
Finally, on Friday, I went back for the official opening of the Christmas Markets and spoke to Councillor Pat Karney and Fine Time Fontayne, who has been in lots of things such as Corrie, Emmerdale, Heartbeat and The Bill.
I then edited the audios for the newsreader to use and spent the rest of the day organising the office.
All in all, it has been an incredible week! I am so so lucky to have been entrusted with so much responsibility, and they have sent me out to do so much alone.
Let's see what next week brings! xx
Saturday, 9 November 2013
"The Famous Work of Art" by Kayleigh Mills... age 8 and a 1/2
Whilst rooting through some cupboards the other day (trying to find some documentation for car insurance), I came across a book I had written when I was 8 and a half. Carefully bound together with coloured pieces of card, I had lovingly handwritten a blurb on the back and information about the author on the inside cover, which claimed that the two books I had written were "very pleasant to read"! (Obviously I was very modest as a child. Either that or I was my own biggest fan).
As always, if I do, you'll be the first to know...! xx
My style of writing has come along somewhat in the past twenty years and it now makes for rather hilarious reading. So much so, that I think I will serialise it on this blog. (Just in case I ever misplace the hardcopy, after all, it would be a shame to lose something so sentimental).
There are fifteen chapters, all of which consist of about three sentences each! (Interestingly, my ability to 'keep it brief' was stronger back then). Written in the days before the PC, I typed it out at my dining room table on an electronic typewriter Father Christmas had given me, and handwrote the title and blurb on card as it was too thick to feed through the machine! The premise of the tale is as follows:
Michael made a famous painting should he sell it? find out inside!
(Note: I have decided to leave all of the grammatical and spelling mistakes in, as cringeworthy as they are).
Gripping, isn't it? I'm sure Agatha Christie is turning in her grave. I shan't keep you waiting, I don't want you to actually fall off the end of your seat in anticipation. (Current-day thoughts in red)
THE FAMOUS WORK OF ART.100 years ago a famous painter called Michael (no verb? Oh dear. Not a great start!) He was fed up of his own paintings. Michael wanted to paint something that will be better than any other paintings in the whole world! (Mix of first and second conditionals. Still, good on him for having ambition!) So he got to work he painted here and there after a year his painting was finished.The painting was HUGE the painting was a picture of a sunset with the sun over some hills. Michael called it LANDSCAPE
Mind. Blown. #literarygenius. It does get better though, if you can imagine that. I'll put up some more next week. :)
In other news, I finished work experience at the TV production company in MediaCityUK. I had a great time and learned so much, but it had to come to an end as four weeks in the most you can do legally before it becomes working for free. Luckily, I will not be out of 'work' for too long, because I have been offered two weeks with the news team at Key 103, starting next Monday. Excited is not the word! It's my absolute dream to work there. I am thrilled to have the opportunity and hope to make the most of it. Maybe I'll get to write the news, or maybe even interview somebody important.
As always, if I do, you'll be the first to know...! xx
Sunday, 20 October 2013
Keep on running...
It's been a crazy couple of weeks since I last wrote on here. When I say "crazy", I mean it in the most positive sense of the word (if there is such a thing), akin to hectic, busy and crammed full of activity as opposed to being clinically insane or doolally. Still, if I carry on at this rate I may just end that way!
My most important and noteworthy news is that I am now officially an auntie to a beautiful baby boy, Alfie. He took his time - bless him - arriving a few days late, but he is absolutely perfect and doing well. I have seen him a couple of times now and he doesn't really do much yet when I hold him, other than sleep. In all honesty, it makes a refreshing change because I normally don't get on too well with babies. They usually just cry when I am within a yard of them or perform some sort of bodily function either on me or aimed in my direction. Anyway, when he is a little older, I fully intend on being his favourite auntie and win his favour by spoiling him rotten and taking him on cool days out and the like. I believe I am in the running for the title, seeing as his I am his only biological auntie living in the country. (Not taking into account his millions of "aunties" who are friends of my sister or her boyfriend, their next door neighbours or the milkman etc). Heck, I'm the only one on this continent... his auntie on the other side of his family lives in New Zealand! Actually, I would settle for being his favourite aunt in the northern hemisphere I think, so as to not cause problems with his other aunt... It is a sufficiently grandiose title after all. I wonder if Hallmark would make a card to that effect: "To my favourite auntie in the northern hemisphere. You are the best in Europe, North America and most of Asia, but not Indonesia". Anyway, I digress...
In the meanwhile, I have been cracking on with the job hunt. After jury duty finished, I thought to myself that I had to seriously knuckle down and do some serious networking and research. The question then, however, was where do I want to be... in television or radio? (Cue the "You've got a wonderful face for radio" comments... I've heard them all before!) There seem to be a lot of people who have started in radio and have transitioned to TV and vice-versa, such as Graham Liver (to name a local example... he works on BBC Radio Lancashire and North West Tonight), Vanessa Feltz, Terry Wogan, Dermot O'Leary, Chris Evans... the list goes on. (Note: To clarify, at this point I am trying to get a behind-the-scenes role, not a presenter job, but I didn't know where to start).
I figured, the only way I was going to find out which area I wanted to start off in at least, is to get out there and do it! I have lots of experience with hospital, student and community radio but zilch for TV so I started to aim my focus there.
Twitter has been a great help on this front. A lot of people moan about twitter, but, if used correctly, I honestly believe it can be an extremely useful tool. It is where I find out about most job vacancies and get in touch with people who otherwise I may find it hard to contact. (i.e. important people at the BBC). It was on there that I saw a job advertised as a "runner" in a post-production house in Manchester city centre. This role is basically like an assistant to all the people who work there, and your responsibilities include answering the phones, keeping the place clean and making cups of tea and coffee for the staff and guests. With this industry, you have to start at the bottom and work your way up, which I am more than happy to do. So, I went along for an 'informal chat', (which was really an interview) but I didn't feel it was for me. Post-production is when scenes from TV or adverts are edited and special effects are added or any graphics or CGI. Although I am desperate to "get in", I am definitely not a technical person, and couldn't tell you anything about editing software, graphics or technology. My mind is simply not wired that way, I am a creative person! I don't think going to the 'interview' was a waste of time though, it helped me on my way to figuring out where it is I need to be. I think I'll get there by finding out what I don't want to do (or can't do) first, and then by trial and error, I'll end up in my dream job!
So, that experience told me I probably want to focus on production. A few days later, I saw a tweet which said there was some work experience as a runner going at a TV and Film production company in MediaCityUK and that you should send in your CV asap. So, that's exactly what I did. Within half an hour, I had received a reply saying they liked my CV, and asking me if I was available the following week. Obviously I said yes and that's where I have been for the past fortnight.
The company creates adverts for a lot of famous brands such as CSL, Oak Furniture Land, Lambrini, P+O Cruises and many many more. During the past two weeks, I have been helping out with admin work and answering the phones, making cups of tea and running errands, but I have also had the opportunity to assist with a casting process and also go on a shoot down in Bristol and over in Widnes for DW Sports. The days are very long (I get up at 6am, and travel 90 mins each way to get in and back home, and often get home at 8:30pm) but, it's great for my CV.
It's unpaid, but the boss has offered to pay my expenses which is definitely something. I have been told I am a great help, so who knows what will happen? I am still waiting for my placement at Key 103 to be confirmed, and I have also applied for the November/December round of work experience at the Beeb. The application process has changed though, and now you can either apply for TV or Radio... not both. Not knowing which one to go for, I ended up applying for TV. I have some work experience promised to me from an important radio station, but TV is a lot harder to get into or get experience of in my opinion, so if I could get in at work experience level at the BBC, that should help clarify which one I am better suited to.
Working at MediaCity these past two weeks has been an absolute dream. I know I want to work there, I just don't have clear in what capacity! I'll keep on running, as it were, and see what happens. :)
My most important and noteworthy news is that I am now officially an auntie to a beautiful baby boy, Alfie. He took his time - bless him - arriving a few days late, but he is absolutely perfect and doing well. I have seen him a couple of times now and he doesn't really do much yet when I hold him, other than sleep. In all honesty, it makes a refreshing change because I normally don't get on too well with babies. They usually just cry when I am within a yard of them or perform some sort of bodily function either on me or aimed in my direction. Anyway, when he is a little older, I fully intend on being his favourite auntie and win his favour by spoiling him rotten and taking him on cool days out and the like. I believe I am in the running for the title, seeing as his I am his only biological auntie living in the country. (Not taking into account his millions of "aunties" who are friends of my sister or her boyfriend, their next door neighbours or the milkman etc). Heck, I'm the only one on this continent... his auntie on the other side of his family lives in New Zealand! Actually, I would settle for being his favourite aunt in the northern hemisphere I think, so as to not cause problems with his other aunt... It is a sufficiently grandiose title after all. I wonder if Hallmark would make a card to that effect: "To my favourite auntie in the northern hemisphere. You are the best in Europe, North America and most of Asia, but not Indonesia". Anyway, I digress...
In the meanwhile, I have been cracking on with the job hunt. After jury duty finished, I thought to myself that I had to seriously knuckle down and do some serious networking and research. The question then, however, was where do I want to be... in television or radio? (Cue the "You've got a wonderful face for radio" comments... I've heard them all before!) There seem to be a lot of people who have started in radio and have transitioned to TV and vice-versa, such as Graham Liver (to name a local example... he works on BBC Radio Lancashire and North West Tonight), Vanessa Feltz, Terry Wogan, Dermot O'Leary, Chris Evans... the list goes on. (Note: To clarify, at this point I am trying to get a behind-the-scenes role, not a presenter job, but I didn't know where to start).
I figured, the only way I was going to find out which area I wanted to start off in at least, is to get out there and do it! I have lots of experience with hospital, student and community radio but zilch for TV so I started to aim my focus there.
Twitter has been a great help on this front. A lot of people moan about twitter, but, if used correctly, I honestly believe it can be an extremely useful tool. It is where I find out about most job vacancies and get in touch with people who otherwise I may find it hard to contact. (i.e. important people at the BBC). It was on there that I saw a job advertised as a "runner" in a post-production house in Manchester city centre. This role is basically like an assistant to all the people who work there, and your responsibilities include answering the phones, keeping the place clean and making cups of tea and coffee for the staff and guests. With this industry, you have to start at the bottom and work your way up, which I am more than happy to do. So, I went along for an 'informal chat', (which was really an interview) but I didn't feel it was for me. Post-production is when scenes from TV or adverts are edited and special effects are added or any graphics or CGI. Although I am desperate to "get in", I am definitely not a technical person, and couldn't tell you anything about editing software, graphics or technology. My mind is simply not wired that way, I am a creative person! I don't think going to the 'interview' was a waste of time though, it helped me on my way to figuring out where it is I need to be. I think I'll get there by finding out what I don't want to do (or can't do) first, and then by trial and error, I'll end up in my dream job!
So, that experience told me I probably want to focus on production. A few days later, I saw a tweet which said there was some work experience as a runner going at a TV and Film production company in MediaCityUK and that you should send in your CV asap. So, that's exactly what I did. Within half an hour, I had received a reply saying they liked my CV, and asking me if I was available the following week. Obviously I said yes and that's where I have been for the past fortnight.
The company creates adverts for a lot of famous brands such as CSL, Oak Furniture Land, Lambrini, P+O Cruises and many many more. During the past two weeks, I have been helping out with admin work and answering the phones, making cups of tea and running errands, but I have also had the opportunity to assist with a casting process and also go on a shoot down in Bristol and over in Widnes for DW Sports. The days are very long (I get up at 6am, and travel 90 mins each way to get in and back home, and often get home at 8:30pm) but, it's great for my CV.
It's unpaid, but the boss has offered to pay my expenses which is definitely something. I have been told I am a great help, so who knows what will happen? I am still waiting for my placement at Key 103 to be confirmed, and I have also applied for the November/December round of work experience at the Beeb. The application process has changed though, and now you can either apply for TV or Radio... not both. Not knowing which one to go for, I ended up applying for TV. I have some work experience promised to me from an important radio station, but TV is a lot harder to get into or get experience of in my opinion, so if I could get in at work experience level at the BBC, that should help clarify which one I am better suited to.
Working at MediaCity these past two weeks has been an absolute dream. I know I want to work there, I just don't have clear in what capacity! I'll keep on running, as it were, and see what happens. :)
Tuesday, 1 October 2013
They think it's all over...
Hello and happy October!
It's been a long two weeks since the last time I posted, but jury duty is finally over and the job hunt, and therefore blogging, can continue. I have to admit that it is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do... when all is said and done, you are deciding the fate of someone else's life, not to mention countless others who may have been affected by their actions. It's not as easy as you may think.
Still, I learned some invaluable life lessons from it and intend to take those with me. Let's not dwell on it, but move onwards and upwards!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, I was watching X Factor the other night, (was that too dramatic a change from the previous topic?) and it suddenly dawned on me that if I were to enter, I would be classified in the "overs" category. (Do not worry, I will not be entering any time soon. I have the musical abilities of a drowning cat and the moves of one as well, come to think of it...)
However, the realisation in itself was rather harsh as, although you accept you are getting older, it doesn't feel as though you are, at least not to me. But, something like that puts it in black and white, you are in the "overs" group, which implicitly means that you are past your prime. The word "over" in itself means finished. Done, dusted. Take "How's your boyfriend? I dunno... we're over" as an example. It just has such negative connotations in so many ways... overweight, overrated, over the legal limit... What good can come of being "over"??
In all honesty, nobody expects an "over" to actually go on and win the programme, do they? I mean, sure, Steve Brookstein won the first season but then he disappeared back into the blue from whence he came.
I can't help thinking that this is a shame. I think some of the "overs" have incredible talent this year, and it's true for other seasons too. If age really ain't nothin' but a number, why is it so easy to say when somebody's number is up? I, for one, refuse to believe that being 25 or above (note the intentional avoidance of the term "over") means that you cannot aspire to greater things.
As a bit of a cheer-up, I have collated some proof that it is never too late to follow your dream or change your career: (*Majority of info found on Wikipedia... may or may not be accurate).
1) Let's start with probably the most famous one of all. Jesus Christ. It is commonly known that he was a carpenter. In Luke 3:23 it says "And Jesus himself, when he began [to teach], was about thirty years of age" so he started as a carpenter, had a career change at 30 and did alright for himself, what with being the saviour of the human race and all.
2) Then we have another carpenter... Harrison Ford (Indiana Jones). He had had 'bit' parts and uncredited voice work in a few films, but when this didn't prove as lucrative as he had hoped, he turned to carpentry to support his then wife and two sons. As a result, he was hired to build cabinets at George Lucas' home, who then cast him in American Graffiti at the age of 31. From that he went on to work with Lucas again in a little film called Star Wars. Have you heard of it? Me neither. It just goes to show, when one wooden door closes, another one opens.
3) Colonel Sanders of KFC fame didn't start franchising his restaurants and finger-licking-good recipe until the age of 65! Prior to that, he had worked as a farmer, insurance salesman and a fireman.
4) Sting (of "Sting and the Police" fame) worked as an English teacher before achieving fame as a rocker. Who knows? Maybe those experiences helped him to write some of his lyrics.
5) Speaking of writing... J.K Rowling hasn't done so badly for herself, has she? She was living on benefits, got divorced and was a single mum, only for the idea of Harry Potter to pop into her head whilst on a train from Manchester to London. She even taught English abroad (like me!) Who would have said that half a decade later she would be a multi-millionaire?
6) Walt Disney embarked on a career as a newspaper editor, only to be fired for "lacking imagination and having no good ideas". Enough said.
7) Apparently, many of Albert Einstein's teachers thought he would never amount to anything. He didn't start speaking until he was 4 (I started when I was 3... does that make me a genius too??) and he failed many of his exams, causing his teachers to brand him as lazy and insubordinate. He managed to graduate (just), but struggled to find a job due to the fact that nobody wanted to write him a recommendation. He started work as a patent clerk, which he ended up doing for 7 years. It wasn't until he was 26 (in the "overs") that he had his first theoretical papers recognised and published.
8) On a similar note, Thomas Edison, one of the world's most prolific inventors was labelled as "too stupid to learn" and was fired from his first two jobs for being "non-productive". He was 46 when he invented the first 'commercially practical incandescent light'. I love the irony now, that when somebody has an idea it is often depicted as a lightbulb. In your face teachers.
9) A source of national pride, Winston Churchill finally became PM at the age of 62, after many years of political failures and defeats. If at first you don't succeed and all that.
And finally...
10) Good ol' Elvis Presley was told by a concert manager, Jim Denny: "You ain't going nowhere son. You oughta go back to driving a truck!" when he was just 19. He kept on working, and did alright in the end.
So there you have it. It ain't over until the fat old lady sings, or writes a book, or becomes prime minister. She can change whenever she wants to ;)
It's been a long two weeks since the last time I posted, but jury duty is finally over and the job hunt, and therefore blogging, can continue. I have to admit that it is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do... when all is said and done, you are deciding the fate of someone else's life, not to mention countless others who may have been affected by their actions. It's not as easy as you may think.
Still, I learned some invaluable life lessons from it and intend to take those with me. Let's not dwell on it, but move onwards and upwards!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, I was watching X Factor the other night, (was that too dramatic a change from the previous topic?) and it suddenly dawned on me that if I were to enter, I would be classified in the "overs" category. (Do not worry, I will not be entering any time soon. I have the musical abilities of a drowning cat and the moves of one as well, come to think of it...)
However, the realisation in itself was rather harsh as, although you accept you are getting older, it doesn't feel as though you are, at least not to me. But, something like that puts it in black and white, you are in the "overs" group, which implicitly means that you are past your prime. The word "over" in itself means finished. Done, dusted. Take "How's your boyfriend? I dunno... we're over" as an example. It just has such negative connotations in so many ways... overweight, overrated, over the legal limit... What good can come of being "over"??
In all honesty, nobody expects an "over" to actually go on and win the programme, do they? I mean, sure, Steve Brookstein won the first season but then he disappeared back into the blue from whence he came.
I can't help thinking that this is a shame. I think some of the "overs" have incredible talent this year, and it's true for other seasons too. If age really ain't nothin' but a number, why is it so easy to say when somebody's number is up? I, for one, refuse to believe that being 25 or above (note the intentional avoidance of the term "over") means that you cannot aspire to greater things.
As a bit of a cheer-up, I have collated some proof that it is never too late to follow your dream or change your career: (*Majority of info found on Wikipedia... may or may not be accurate).
1) Let's start with probably the most famous one of all. Jesus Christ. It is commonly known that he was a carpenter. In Luke 3:23 it says "And Jesus himself, when he began [to teach], was about thirty years of age" so he started as a carpenter, had a career change at 30 and did alright for himself, what with being the saviour of the human race and all.
2) Then we have another carpenter... Harrison Ford (Indiana Jones). He had had 'bit' parts and uncredited voice work in a few films, but when this didn't prove as lucrative as he had hoped, he turned to carpentry to support his then wife and two sons. As a result, he was hired to build cabinets at George Lucas' home, who then cast him in American Graffiti at the age of 31. From that he went on to work with Lucas again in a little film called Star Wars. Have you heard of it? Me neither. It just goes to show, when one wooden door closes, another one opens.
3) Colonel Sanders of KFC fame didn't start franchising his restaurants and finger-licking-good recipe until the age of 65! Prior to that, he had worked as a farmer, insurance salesman and a fireman.
4) Sting (of "Sting and the Police" fame) worked as an English teacher before achieving fame as a rocker. Who knows? Maybe those experiences helped him to write some of his lyrics.
5) Speaking of writing... J.K Rowling hasn't done so badly for herself, has she? She was living on benefits, got divorced and was a single mum, only for the idea of Harry Potter to pop into her head whilst on a train from Manchester to London. She even taught English abroad (like me!) Who would have said that half a decade later she would be a multi-millionaire?
6) Walt Disney embarked on a career as a newspaper editor, only to be fired for "lacking imagination and having no good ideas". Enough said.
7) Apparently, many of Albert Einstein's teachers thought he would never amount to anything. He didn't start speaking until he was 4 (I started when I was 3... does that make me a genius too??) and he failed many of his exams, causing his teachers to brand him as lazy and insubordinate. He managed to graduate (just), but struggled to find a job due to the fact that nobody wanted to write him a recommendation. He started work as a patent clerk, which he ended up doing for 7 years. It wasn't until he was 26 (in the "overs") that he had his first theoretical papers recognised and published.
8) On a similar note, Thomas Edison, one of the world's most prolific inventors was labelled as "too stupid to learn" and was fired from his first two jobs for being "non-productive". He was 46 when he invented the first 'commercially practical incandescent light'. I love the irony now, that when somebody has an idea it is often depicted as a lightbulb. In your face teachers.
9) A source of national pride, Winston Churchill finally became PM at the age of 62, after many years of political failures and defeats. If at first you don't succeed and all that.
And finally...
10) Good ol' Elvis Presley was told by a concert manager, Jim Denny: "You ain't going nowhere son. You oughta go back to driving a truck!" when he was just 19. He kept on working, and did alright in the end.
So there you have it. It ain't over until the fat old lady sings, or writes a book, or becomes prime minister. She can change whenever she wants to ;)
Saturday, 14 September 2013
The jury's in...
Hola!
It is about time to write a brief update on how things are going on the old job-front.
In a nutshell;
It is about time to write a brief update on how things are going on the old job-front.
In a nutshell;
- I went back to Key103 for another talk on "what makes commercial radio tick", got told by a very important and prize-winning DJ that I was too old to get into radio now, which made me cry.
- I have completely redrafted and restructured my CV.
- I received an email saying all of my ex-students from Spain had passed their exams... happy days!
- I started volunteering at Preston FM as a producer/office assistant, which involves arranging and interviewing guests, writing and reading the news and creating ideas for content for the show. It's been a learning experience, but I still have a long way to go. There's still so much more I need to learn and want to do. (Calling Merseyside "Murderside" in the bulletin may not have been my finest moment! In my defence, I was reading a story about Jamie Bulger's killers and mixed two words up.)
- I have been offered work experience at Key 103 (to be confirmed).
- I'm having a blog entry printed on The Debut Magazine on Monday, 16th of September.
So, as you can see, I am picking up some nice momentum, and I have some good ideas about where to go from here, but all of that is about to grind to a halt on Monday. Why? Because I have jury duty.
Part of me is rather intrigued. I am a fan of detective series, and have watched many a court-room drama so it will be extremely interesting to watch the whole process "in the flesh" as it were.
However, the other part of me is rather apprehensive and not looking forward to it, because I start on my birthday, (Happy Birthday to me!). Plus, I have been told there is a lot of waiting-around involved.
Anyway, I won't be able to tell you anything about the case, so this blog will be on hiatus until I can get back to it. It's a shame because the trial has come at such a bad time, but, these things happen and it is my civic duty after all. At least when it's over I'll be able to concentrate on work 100% and give it all I've got.
Speak soon! x
Speak soon! x
Monday, 9 September 2013
The price you have to pay... or do you?
As someone who has newly-returned to the job-hunting scene, I have been following all the advice I can down to the letter. I have written, re-formatted and subsequently re-written my CV, I have been out volunteering to gain meaningful experience in my chosen field and have been making as many contacts as has been humanly possible thus far.
Imagine my disappointment, then, when most of the job listings that I see are almost exclusively available through paid membership sites. I'm not talking about a couple of quid here or there. In fact, I even gave into one which "only" cost £2.49 a month, but from what I can see so far, it hasn't been worth the investment. (That is a couple of mars bars and a can of diet coke that I will never get back.) I am talking about some £22 (+VAT!) a month, and that is for the most basic of packages.
At what point did it become acceptable to exploit the enthusiasm and desperation of people who are actively seeking employment? I know that businesses need to make money, that's what makes the world go round, but some of these sites do not even offer you a service. I could understand it more if it were, for example, a CV-checking service that provided you with some helpful pointers before you applied, but as far as I am aware, this one site in particular (names withheld to avoid any potential lawsuits) and others like it, are merely charging you for the opportunity to apply. So, you pay £22 (+VAT) a month just for a chance to be considered. Just like the lottery, you have to be in it to win it.
This elitism means that perhaps the most well-qualified, passionate or talented people are being overlooked for jobs simply because they do not have the means to pay such an amount of money. £25 a month (more or less) can be more, in some cases, than a monthly mobile phone bill. Surely, if you have to choose between one or the other, isn't it better to maintain a number for prospective interviewers to contact you on? The irony is, however, that they won't get your number in the first place, if you don't sign up to their database.
The type of job also seems to have little bearing on this fact. I, myself, am trying to break into the Broadcast Journalism industry, and to do so I am trying to gain an entry-level role and work my way up. I am seeking the position of runner, researcher or broadcast assistant to get my foot in the door and take it from there. Traditionally, these roles are not well remunerated, and it is a well-known fact within the industry that to actually make it you may have to offer your services for free. How then, are we expected to pay over £20 monthly, when we are unemployed, in between jobs or getting paid very little for very long days?
Out of principle, I refuse to pay such a fee to be able to apply, and I will also be revoking the standing order I have with the other cheaper site. People's opportunities should not be governed by who pays more, but rather by their drive, ambition and dedication to what they long to do. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe that by good old hard work, gumption and getting the necessary experience I will get to where I need to be. It may take me a bit longer, but at least I will have a couple of mars bars and a can of coke to keep me going!
Imagine my disappointment, then, when most of the job listings that I see are almost exclusively available through paid membership sites. I'm not talking about a couple of quid here or there. In fact, I even gave into one which "only" cost £2.49 a month, but from what I can see so far, it hasn't been worth the investment. (That is a couple of mars bars and a can of diet coke that I will never get back.) I am talking about some £22 (+VAT!) a month, and that is for the most basic of packages.
At what point did it become acceptable to exploit the enthusiasm and desperation of people who are actively seeking employment? I know that businesses need to make money, that's what makes the world go round, but some of these sites do not even offer you a service. I could understand it more if it were, for example, a CV-checking service that provided you with some helpful pointers before you applied, but as far as I am aware, this one site in particular (names withheld to avoid any potential lawsuits) and others like it, are merely charging you for the opportunity to apply. So, you pay £22 (+VAT) a month just for a chance to be considered. Just like the lottery, you have to be in it to win it.
This elitism means that perhaps the most well-qualified, passionate or talented people are being overlooked for jobs simply because they do not have the means to pay such an amount of money. £25 a month (more or less) can be more, in some cases, than a monthly mobile phone bill. Surely, if you have to choose between one or the other, isn't it better to maintain a number for prospective interviewers to contact you on? The irony is, however, that they won't get your number in the first place, if you don't sign up to their database.
The type of job also seems to have little bearing on this fact. I, myself, am trying to break into the Broadcast Journalism industry, and to do so I am trying to gain an entry-level role and work my way up. I am seeking the position of runner, researcher or broadcast assistant to get my foot in the door and take it from there. Traditionally, these roles are not well remunerated, and it is a well-known fact within the industry that to actually make it you may have to offer your services for free. How then, are we expected to pay over £20 monthly, when we are unemployed, in between jobs or getting paid very little for very long days?
Out of principle, I refuse to pay such a fee to be able to apply, and I will also be revoking the standing order I have with the other cheaper site. People's opportunities should not be governed by who pays more, but rather by their drive, ambition and dedication to what they long to do. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe that by good old hard work, gumption and getting the necessary experience I will get to where I need to be. It may take me a bit longer, but at least I will have a couple of mars bars and a can of coke to keep me going!
Thursday, 29 August 2013
Quick update
So, you are now looking at (the writing of) a new producer of the "Chat City" radio show on Preston FM!
Although it is a voluntary position, I decided that for now the pros outweigh the cons. It's an excellent addition to my CV and I am going to learn a lot of skills, such as going through press releases and booking guests to appear on the show, as well as "pre-interviewing" them before they go on air. I may also get to write the news, and perhaps even read it, depending on how many other volunteers are around that day.
Still, it's a great place to pick up some experience.
The bad news is, however, that I will have to get up at 6am in order to get the bus to the train station, and then, obviously, the train to Preston. It's not ideal, but I am optimistically thinking that it is one of those stories that I will one day tell my grandchildren.
I emailed Scott Solder, an important editor at the BBC who worked on Radio 5 Live for a long time, before moving onto The One show where he is now. He told me:
Anyway, back in for another Key 103 day tomorrow, will let you know how that goes :)
Although it is a voluntary position, I decided that for now the pros outweigh the cons. It's an excellent addition to my CV and I am going to learn a lot of skills, such as going through press releases and booking guests to appear on the show, as well as "pre-interviewing" them before they go on air. I may also get to write the news, and perhaps even read it, depending on how many other volunteers are around that day.
Still, it's a great place to pick up some experience.
The bad news is, however, that I will have to get up at 6am in order to get the bus to the train station, and then, obviously, the train to Preston. It's not ideal, but I am optimistically thinking that it is one of those stories that I will one day tell my grandchildren.
"When I was your age, I had to get up at 6am, walk to the bus stop in the snow (taking a bit of creative dramatic licence), get a bus, then wait half an hour for the train to even come, get on it, then go to the studio on foot... all for a job that was UNPAID! You don't know the meaning of dedication these days... Eee by gum..." (I am from Lancashire after all).
I emailed Scott Solder, an important editor at the BBC who worked on Radio 5 Live for a long time, before moving onto The One show where he is now. He told me:
"I think in a nutshell, it’s time to make your face known, knock on as many doors as possible, and be willing and flexible to adapt to whatever needs any station/team might have … Good attitude is a must .. as is a willingness to get your hands dirty.."So, I think I am following his advice down to the letter!
Anyway, back in for another Key 103 day tomorrow, will let you know how that goes :)
Sunday, 25 August 2013
Week 1 Summary
Anyway, the past is the past. I can't change it. I think it's inevitable to feel a little like that when you come back to live in your childhood home with your parents, memories come flooding back and it feels partially like a step backwards in that you have come full circle, or it feels like you have never been away and not progressed. I believe though, that sometimes it is necessary to take a step back in order to gain momentum for the hop, skip and jump forward that will propel you on to better things. It was good to write it down and get it out of my system (blogging is very cathartic) but it's time to move onwards and upwards.
Week one of "the job/work experience/give-me-anything-you've-got hunt" has been a mixed bag of tricks. I fired CVs out at record speed on Monday, and I was extremely pleased to receive a call that very night saying that someone was interested in me. Lucky cow, you may think, getting a phone call on day one. However, this opportunity is only a volunteer position. I am not being picky, I need to get experience anywhere I can and I think that a place like Preston FM would be a brilliant place to start, but it is a question of practicalities. Preston is a fair way from my hometown (located conveniently about 10 minutes out of the outskirts of nowhere), so to get there and back every day would mean having to invest in a car. The dilemma, then, is whether or not to fork out for a car and its upkeep for an unpaid position. I would actually be paying a considerable amount of money to do the job. Still, I am staying open to the possibility and have a meeting there next Tuesday to have a look around and get a feel for the place. I'll let you know how that goes.
In the meanwhile, I have also been applying for jobs at production companies, trying to get in as a runner/researcher. I probably should have it a bit clearer whether it is radio or TV that I want to do, but I love both and would be more than happy to get into either. So, I am applying for both types (but leaning more towards radio), and leaving it up to fate to decide. Those applications haven't been going so well seeing as I have no relevant experience in that field. I have received some lovely, consolation emails assuring me that they will "keep my details on file" which is code for "thanks, but no thanks".
The one good thing that happened this week was the morning that I spent at Key103 in Manchester, as part of the Go Think Big scheme. I met many wonderful (and important) people who gave me some very sound advice, which I am definitely going to take into consideration as I try to move forward. Furthermore, having chatted to them in person (albeit briefly) now gives me licence to contact them in the not-too-distant future to pick their brains some more and say "Hey, do you remember me? We met in August.... Can I have a job please??". What's more is that I was also allocated a place on another Key103 training day next Friday, so I will be back there next week. Maybe they'll just get so sick of my pleas that they'll just give me some work experience to stop me pestering. Still, the competition is stiff, there were lots of young, talented people who were just as keen as I am. It won't be easy!
All in all, it hasn't been a bad start. We'll see what next week brings!
The clarity of hindsight
Yesterday I was clearing out a cupboard in my childhood bedroom, desperately trying to find my Boots advantage card which has laid there neglected since I moved to Spain - I had points that I have been accumulating since coming back to the UK which needed validating. It's all about priorities... they may get me a free nail varnish one day or at least a sweet chilli chicken wrap on the meal deal - and it was an interesting experience.
I must explain first of all that my old room has now been turned into the family's dumping ground; anything that you are not keen to get rid of due to its sentimental value or an ill-conceived notion that it may be worth something one day (i.e. a full set of Natwest piggy banks in pristine condition) or just things that are deemed too hideous to display elsewhere in the home get thrown unceremoniously in there, with the door slammed shut behind them. Thus, going through the cupboard was like going through a real Aladdin's cave of memories... or, more appropriately, simply an avalanche of general tat. Amongst the items, I found birthday cards from years gone by (I am approaching 28 in a couple of weeks, and found ones from my 21st and even my 18th which made me a little sad), old teddy bears, expired make up and congealed nail polishes (hence why I needed the Boots card in the first place!), photos and their original films of me on school trips and D of E expeditions as an eager 16 year old, Nokia 3310s with chargers and even a tin full of pogs (if you don't know what they are, you were never a child of the 90s). Right at the back, however, I found some stories I had written at the age of eight, with "written and illustrated by Kayleigh Mills" proudly emblazoned on the cover, accompanied by some old copies of the Lancashire Evening Telegraph and the Rossendale Free Press from when I did work experience there and got my name in the paper or had something I had helped with printed. I even found old newsletters from my time volunteering at my local hospital radio, which has now ceased to exist. Rather than be overwhelmed with a warm, fuzzy feeling of nostalgia, the whole idea was rather disconcerting. I had everything so clear at the age of 16. I knew I wanted to work in journalism/radio. So where did it all go wrong? Why am I not doing it now?
I started off on the right track, I was getting lots of work experience and was told not to study media at University but rather to do something else to offer a different skillset. So, I went on to study Spanish. Instead of choosing a three-year degree at an English university, which, in hindsight, would have given me plenty of time to have done a postgrad in broadcast journalism afterwards, I fell in love with St. Andrews and went up there. Even then I opted for the five-year degree, instead of the four-year option. As I write this, I am incredulous of the fact that I took these decisions. As much as I adored my time at the home of golf, after five years I wasn't prepared (or economically equipped) to go into further education/training. I then panicked and didn't know how to get into what I really wanted to do. At the time, I had never heard of any BBC training/grad schemes and didn't feel that, at my age (then I was 25) I could feasibly go back to living with my Dad, work for free and start from the bottom, making the cups of tea and slowly working my way up. I then felt extremely nervous, I didn't know what to do.
So, I sent some CVs off to English Language schools in Spain as a plan B, and when I was offered a job that same night, I jumped at the opportunity and thought my problems were solved. I had a job. A month or so later, my bags were packed and I headed off to the relatively unknown.
What's the moral of this story? In part, I can never regret that decision because it was there that I met the love of my life. However, professionally speaking, I do regret just taking the first job that I was offered out of blind panic and not investigating the other options more in depth. So I feel that I am back now, 10 years later, to square one. Sure, I have got some life experience under my belt and some admin/managerial work to boast of on my CV, but I feel that I am no further forward in regards to my dream job than I was a decade ago. In fact, if anything, I was better off then as I was more actively involved in things. They say hindsight is a wonderful thing, and if you were to ask me if I would have done things differently, the answer would be yes. Still, they say that everything happens for a reason. I am older and wiser now, and not arrogant enough to think I am above making cups of tea and starting at the bottom. That's what I actually want to do now. Who knows, maybe in another 10 years' time, I'll look back and think everything happened as it was meant to. After all, it was only because of the jobs in Spain that I now have the money to support myself while I work for free and gain experience. But right now I can't help feeling that in some way I have wasted years of my life. Let's hope I'm wrong.
Sunday, 18 August 2013
The time is now
After months of anticipation and blogging about it, the time to actually throw myself into applying for jobs is upon me.
Indeed, my holidays are now over - Scotland was wonderful by the way (and I highly recommend you try a deep-fried Mars bar) - and so I have been updating my CV and doing proactive things like making a list of all of the local radio stations/production companies I am going to apply to. I don't know what it is about list-making that makes me feel more productive, but it genuinely does and I am sure that I can't be the only one. (I am not one of those people who put "make a list" as number one of their to-dos though, just so they can cross it off and therefore have a sense of accomplishment before their day has really begun).
I did see, however, a couple of interesting opportunities on the gothinkbig.co.uk website just before I went away and decided it was worth applying. If you don't know what the "Go Think Big" initiative is all about, I recommend you visit the page, but just as an overview, it's a wonderful site dedicated to helping young people get their foot in their door of their dream career. Luckily, I have been accepted onto two different training days at Manchester's Hit music station: Key 103. I am extremely excited and grateful for the opportunity, and hopefully I will make some good contacts and gain lots of inspiration and knowledge.
It's a great start to my journey of breaking into the media and I'll obviously let you know how I get on... this is what the blog is all about! Wish me luck :)
Indeed, my holidays are now over - Scotland was wonderful by the way (and I highly recommend you try a deep-fried Mars bar) - and so I have been updating my CV and doing proactive things like making a list of all of the local radio stations/production companies I am going to apply to. I don't know what it is about list-making that makes me feel more productive, but it genuinely does and I am sure that I can't be the only one. (I am not one of those people who put "make a list" as number one of their to-dos though, just so they can cross it off and therefore have a sense of accomplishment before their day has really begun).
I did see, however, a couple of interesting opportunities on the gothinkbig.co.uk website just before I went away and decided it was worth applying. If you don't know what the "Go Think Big" initiative is all about, I recommend you visit the page, but just as an overview, it's a wonderful site dedicated to helping young people get their foot in their door of their dream career. Luckily, I have been accepted onto two different training days at Manchester's Hit music station: Key 103. I am extremely excited and grateful for the opportunity, and hopefully I will make some good contacts and gain lots of inspiration and knowledge.
It's a great start to my journey of breaking into the media and I'll obviously let you know how I get on... this is what the blog is all about! Wish me luck :)
Sunday, 4 August 2013
The Return
After a very hard final month at work, and a very tiring year in general (see previous posts for more information), I finally packed my bags and have left Spain to return to the UK.
The journey itself was rather straightforward; all the suitcases were miraculously within the weight limit, my hand luggage, which I think was possibly a few millimetres larger than the stated limit, wasn't measured, everything was on time and the little girl behind me only kicked the back of my seat for about half of the journey, which I consider to be a bonus. I'd also like to think that God or the universe or whoever it is that controls these things gave me a sign when we were disembarking the Jet2 flight to Blackpool and Take That's "Back for Good" started to play. I was wholly convinced that the universe was telling me that this was it now, I had made the right decision and I was about to start on a new adventure and a new life here. My boyfriend, however, who is rather more pragmatic about these things, pointed out that it probably was not coincidental that they had chosen that song, and it was just part of the company's marketing strategy. Furthermore, it was probably more akin to a threat: "You are back here in rainy Blackpool FOR GOOD..... Unless you book one of our package holidays now!!"
Still, I am choosing to look on the bright side of life, as any Monty-Python-respecting Brit should. So, the torrential rain hasn't yet managed to dampen my spirits, and I am really enjoying being home. I am taking this week off to relax and revel in the glory of temporary* joblessness. Firstly because recharging the batteries is essential, (and, without meaning to sound too arrogant, I think I deserve a wee break) and secondly, I can use this time to get my errands done and cover my human MOT: doctor, dentist and hairdresser, so that I can concentrate one hundred percent on my applications later.
Then, next week I am heading up to Scotland for a wedding and to stay with my best friend for a few days. After that is when the job hunt really intensifies. This blog has always meant to be about my entry into the media and so, as of next week, is when the entries are really going to pick up some pace. But, I am feeling good, I am feeling positive, and I'm ready to give them everything I've got. :)
(*Here's hoping! I may be talking about how wonderful joblessness is now, but it is only due to its novelty value... if a year down the line I am still desperately begging people to take a chance on me, then it will not seem as wonderful. I was always one of those children who spent all year waiting for the six week holidays, and then got bored after two and was itching to go back. I'm sure that's how this will go too! At least it will give me something to write about!)
Saturday, 13 July 2013
Taking birds home
Unlike the members of the Geordie Shore house, it's not often that I can say I went out for a drink with some friends on a Saturday night and ended up bringing a bird home. That is, however, exactly what happened to me last night. I'm not sure Gaz and co. would congratulate me though, as my bird was a bit worse for wear, unstable on her feet and... of the feathered variety.
Picture the scene; I was walking home with two friends and was nearly at my door, when Angie suddenly drew our attention to something on the floor. On closer inspection, I realised it was a tiny baby bird that had clearly fallen from its nest. We looked around but couldn't see the nest anywhere and it was sat on the pavement where a cat could eat it at any given moment. I am hardly Mother Theresa (God bless her soul) but something about leaving it exposed, to cook in the sweltering 30°C heat didn't sit right with me so I took it up to my flat and gave it a bit of water. It really was the tiniest of things, and to be able to eat it would need regurgitated bugs directly from its mother's mouth. I started to chew on a piece of bread and thought it might eat some, but I wasn't sure how that would go down (or come up for that matter... I'm not sure me vomiting on a bird counts as an act of kindness). So, my boyfriend and I got the yellow pages out and looked for a vet. On a Saturday night. In July. Just to clarify, finding anything in a Spanish city on a summer's weekend is almost impossible due to the fact that everyone rushes off to the coast, leaving the city in a ghost town, post-apocalyptic like state until Monday morning.
Still, I remembered where there were a couple of vets near, so we went down hoping for a miracle, with the bird in a shoe box and attracting some very strange looks. Human nature is a funny thing, because whenever we see a box, we have to know what's in it. People were craning their necks (no bird-related pun intended) to see what I was carrying and then shot me a look of horror and confusion when they clicked.
Anyway, as we approached the spot where I found the poor creature, my boyfriend was eagle-eyed enough to notice two other babies sticking their little heads out of a hole in the brick facade of our building. (OK, that pun was intended, so sue me). The mother kept flying out and coming back to the makeshift nest with sustenance, so I stood, waving my arms and holding the bird above my head like Rafiki in the Lion King but to no avail, they didn't see me. I encouraged the thing to tweet, (verb used in its original context, not in reference to social networking) or make some kind of noise so its mother would hear it and come to its rescue. When it didn't do as I had asked, it dawned on me that the bird might not actually speak English, so I tried again in Spanish. Still nothing. "Fine," I thought, "I'll try and do it for you".
Saying the words "tweet tweet" did nothing. I tried to whistle but I have never been able to, so ended up just blowing air like I was putting out a candle. I then started making the "kissy" sounds I used to make to my cat, and then thought that using a catcall to entice a bird might be one of the stupidest things I've ever done. They are probably afraid of cats after all. Not my finest moment.
We continued on to the vets to find, unsurprisingly, that it was closed. There was an out-of-hours emergency number to phone, but there was no answer. How useful! Trekking to the next vets was the only thing I could think of, but again, no luck. The only saving grace was that there was a different number to phone. This time, we got through to a man who was kind enough to suggest that we took it to the 24 hour emergency clinic and even gave us directions. It was a fair way away, so we hopped onto the tram to get there a little faster. As our luck would have it, there was not only one, but three inspectors huddled together and eyeing us suspiciously. I half-expected them to fine us, under the excuse that the bird needed its own ticket, what with the current economic crisis and all.
When we arrived at our stop, we got off and realised that we were in the middle of nowhere and it was dark. Desperately trying to find this place, we wandered around an area that looked like an old meat-packing district where killers and rapists would have a field day. "I'm too old for this lark!" I thought. (Yes, another intended pun, I wanted to lighten the mood after such a sombre statement). Eventually, we found the clinic and I explained the dilemma to the vet. After seeing a sign on the wall which read that a single consultation costs €70, I figured they weren't just going to swiftly "take it off my hands".
Sure enough, he wasn't interested when he learned that it wasn't my bird. He told me quite indifferently that I had two options; I could either take it home and try and rear it myself on a diet of baby food or dog food (seriously? dog food? What kind of vet is this?), but this is an arduous task and I would probably end up killing it. (I have to say, his ability to judge character was astounding, he hadn't even seen the many plants that I have unsuccessfully "maintained", and I feel much less prepared to become an adoptive mother). Alternatively, I could leave it where I found it and the mamma might come back for it.
So, armed with our shoebox, we set off on the way back home, walking this time, all the while feeling a bit deflated and as if the past two hours of our lives had been in vain. By this time, the wee bird was shivering because there was a chilly breeze in the night air. I hadn't come this far to let it freeze to death and I have always had warm hands, so I carried it the rest of the way.
We phoned another couple of vets en route, but they more or less said the same thing. Back at square one, we could still see no way of getting it near its nest, so I popped it onto a nearby tree in the hope that its mum would come to find it later on. It quickly crawled into the hollow of a branch there, so much so that it was impossible to access again. I took solace in the fact that, after so much to-ing and fro-ing, it could at least huddle in there and spend the night in a warm, safe place instead of being eaten or trampled on.
Will it die? Almost certainly. Should I have reared it myself, with babyfood and a syringe? Probably, but it was short notice and I didn't have the equipment. Plus, I work a lot and don't have the time to rehabilitate a bird. What I am taking from this whole episode is that I may have helped the wee thing cross something off its bucket list. I'd like to think that the reason it fell out of the nest in the first place was because it wanted to see the world and was anxiously impatient to fly. It may have been too frail to do so, but it did get to ride on a tram, and free of charge no less. Now how many chicks can say that?
Picture the scene; I was walking home with two friends and was nearly at my door, when Angie suddenly drew our attention to something on the floor. On closer inspection, I realised it was a tiny baby bird that had clearly fallen from its nest. We looked around but couldn't see the nest anywhere and it was sat on the pavement where a cat could eat it at any given moment. I am hardly Mother Theresa (God bless her soul) but something about leaving it exposed, to cook in the sweltering 30°C heat didn't sit right with me so I took it up to my flat and gave it a bit of water. It really was the tiniest of things, and to be able to eat it would need regurgitated bugs directly from its mother's mouth. I started to chew on a piece of bread and thought it might eat some, but I wasn't sure how that would go down (or come up for that matter... I'm not sure me vomiting on a bird counts as an act of kindness). So, my boyfriend and I got the yellow pages out and looked for a vet. On a Saturday night. In July. Just to clarify, finding anything in a Spanish city on a summer's weekend is almost impossible due to the fact that everyone rushes off to the coast, leaving the city in a ghost town, post-apocalyptic like state until Monday morning.
Still, I remembered where there were a couple of vets near, so we went down hoping for a miracle, with the bird in a shoe box and attracting some very strange looks. Human nature is a funny thing, because whenever we see a box, we have to know what's in it. People were craning their necks (no bird-related pun intended) to see what I was carrying and then shot me a look of horror and confusion when they clicked.
Anyway, as we approached the spot where I found the poor creature, my boyfriend was eagle-eyed enough to notice two other babies sticking their little heads out of a hole in the brick facade of our building. (OK, that pun was intended, so sue me). The mother kept flying out and coming back to the makeshift nest with sustenance, so I stood, waving my arms and holding the bird above my head like Rafiki in the Lion King but to no avail, they didn't see me. I encouraged the thing to tweet, (verb used in its original context, not in reference to social networking) or make some kind of noise so its mother would hear it and come to its rescue. When it didn't do as I had asked, it dawned on me that the bird might not actually speak English, so I tried again in Spanish. Still nothing. "Fine," I thought, "I'll try and do it for you".
Saying the words "tweet tweet" did nothing. I tried to whistle but I have never been able to, so ended up just blowing air like I was putting out a candle. I then started making the "kissy" sounds I used to make to my cat, and then thought that using a catcall to entice a bird might be one of the stupidest things I've ever done. They are probably afraid of cats after all. Not my finest moment.
We continued on to the vets to find, unsurprisingly, that it was closed. There was an out-of-hours emergency number to phone, but there was no answer. How useful! Trekking to the next vets was the only thing I could think of, but again, no luck. The only saving grace was that there was a different number to phone. This time, we got through to a man who was kind enough to suggest that we took it to the 24 hour emergency clinic and even gave us directions. It was a fair way away, so we hopped onto the tram to get there a little faster. As our luck would have it, there was not only one, but three inspectors huddled together and eyeing us suspiciously. I half-expected them to fine us, under the excuse that the bird needed its own ticket, what with the current economic crisis and all.
When we arrived at our stop, we got off and realised that we were in the middle of nowhere and it was dark. Desperately trying to find this place, we wandered around an area that looked like an old meat-packing district where killers and rapists would have a field day. "I'm too old for this lark!" I thought. (Yes, another intended pun, I wanted to lighten the mood after such a sombre statement). Eventually, we found the clinic and I explained the dilemma to the vet. After seeing a sign on the wall which read that a single consultation costs €70, I figured they weren't just going to swiftly "take it off my hands".
Sure enough, he wasn't interested when he learned that it wasn't my bird. He told me quite indifferently that I had two options; I could either take it home and try and rear it myself on a diet of baby food or dog food (seriously? dog food? What kind of vet is this?), but this is an arduous task and I would probably end up killing it. (I have to say, his ability to judge character was astounding, he hadn't even seen the many plants that I have unsuccessfully "maintained", and I feel much less prepared to become an adoptive mother). Alternatively, I could leave it where I found it and the mamma might come back for it.
So, armed with our shoebox, we set off on the way back home, walking this time, all the while feeling a bit deflated and as if the past two hours of our lives had been in vain. By this time, the wee bird was shivering because there was a chilly breeze in the night air. I hadn't come this far to let it freeze to death and I have always had warm hands, so I carried it the rest of the way.
We phoned another couple of vets en route, but they more or less said the same thing. Back at square one, we could still see no way of getting it near its nest, so I popped it onto a nearby tree in the hope that its mum would come to find it later on. It quickly crawled into the hollow of a branch there, so much so that it was impossible to access again. I took solace in the fact that, after so much to-ing and fro-ing, it could at least huddle in there and spend the night in a warm, safe place instead of being eaten or trampled on.
Will it die? Almost certainly. Should I have reared it myself, with babyfood and a syringe? Probably, but it was short notice and I didn't have the equipment. Plus, I work a lot and don't have the time to rehabilitate a bird. What I am taking from this whole episode is that I may have helped the wee thing cross something off its bucket list. I'd like to think that the reason it fell out of the nest in the first place was because it wanted to see the world and was anxiously impatient to fly. It may have been too frail to do so, but it did get to ride on a tram, and free of charge no less. Now how many chicks can say that?
Wednesday, 10 July 2013
I'm still alive!
I just wanted to write a quick update to let you know that I am, in fact, not dead.
I haven't shown much sign of life recently, but that's due to the fact that the intensive courses have started at work. The basic idea is that the students come for one and a half hours a day (from Monday to Friday) to improve their English or prepare for the official Cambridge exams which take place at the end of this month. Obviously, daily lessons allow students to improve a lot faster than at the normal pace of two classes a week, but they also require a lot of effort, hence the name "intensive". Not only are they intensive for the students, but also for the teachers.
My time is taken up with preparing and correcting and planning and then doing it all again, so I have less time to dedicate to my blog. What's more is that I have cancelled my internet connection at home in preparation for The Return, so it's difficult for me to blog at the weekends too.
However, I will be flying home in 3 weeks today and I am unbelievably excited about it. So, I may be a little quiet on the blog front from now until then, but as soon as I am back in the UK, I will write continually. Prepare yourselves to be inundated!
P.S. - Still no word from the BBC. I'm taking it as a no.
I haven't shown much sign of life recently, but that's due to the fact that the intensive courses have started at work. The basic idea is that the students come for one and a half hours a day (from Monday to Friday) to improve their English or prepare for the official Cambridge exams which take place at the end of this month. Obviously, daily lessons allow students to improve a lot faster than at the normal pace of two classes a week, but they also require a lot of effort, hence the name "intensive". Not only are they intensive for the students, but also for the teachers.
My time is taken up with preparing and correcting and planning and then doing it all again, so I have less time to dedicate to my blog. What's more is that I have cancelled my internet connection at home in preparation for The Return, so it's difficult for me to blog at the weekends too.
However, I will be flying home in 3 weeks today and I am unbelievably excited about it. So, I may be a little quiet on the blog front from now until then, but as soon as I am back in the UK, I will write continually. Prepare yourselves to be inundated!
P.S. - Still no word from the BBC. I'm taking it as a no.
Tuesday, 25 June 2013
Murphy's Law and my "Debut"
All is still quiet on the BBC front. At this stage it is a little concerning, given that I could potentially start a work-experience placement with them next Monday morning and yet I am still in Spain, not packed and with no flights booked.
It says on their website:
I, however, am choosing to remain optimistic and if I receive notification that I have been successful, I will be more than happy to run around like a headless chicken trying to tie up any loose ends here in Spain (closing bank accounts and cancelling mobile phone contracts etc) and hotfoot it back to the UK ready to start bright and early on Monday morning.
I have even been trying to tempt fate. They say that you can wait for an hour for a bus, and it is only when you light up a cigarette that it eventually arrives. Well, I went to the supermarket this morning and was hesitating over whether or not to buy an eight-pack of toilet rolls. (I know, the glamour of my life is astounding). I could either not buy any loo paper, positively assuming that I won't be here this time next week and make do with what I have, or stock up for the next month, and have surplus to wipe away my burning tears of disappointment (how dramatic!). In the end, I decided to throw caution to the wind, be a rebel and buy the multipack. If Murphy's/Sod's Law were ever going to come into action, it would be now. I can just imagine the conversation...
In other news, I received a wonderful email from the people at The Debut Magazine saying that they are going to feature one of my blog posts (The Break-Up) in its next issue. I am extremely excited about it and it has really made my month. It's an online magazine which will hopefully go into print next year for "focussed, motivated and determined women interested in forging a career in the creative and media sector". If you haven't already, like it on Facebook and follow them on twitter, so you can see my article when it's up! :)
It says on their website:
However, in further correspondence I have received, it says:
...which is a bit confusing!
I, however, am choosing to remain optimistic and if I receive notification that I have been successful, I will be more than happy to run around like a headless chicken trying to tie up any loose ends here in Spain (closing bank accounts and cancelling mobile phone contracts etc) and hotfoot it back to the UK ready to start bright and early on Monday morning.
I have even been trying to tempt fate. They say that you can wait for an hour for a bus, and it is only when you light up a cigarette that it eventually arrives. Well, I went to the supermarket this morning and was hesitating over whether or not to buy an eight-pack of toilet rolls. (I know, the glamour of my life is astounding). I could either not buy any loo paper, positively assuming that I won't be here this time next week and make do with what I have, or stock up for the next month, and have surplus to wipe away my burning tears of disappointment (how dramatic!). In the end, I decided to throw caution to the wind, be a rebel and buy the multipack. If Murphy's/Sod's Law were ever going to come into action, it would be now. I can just imagine the conversation...
Ha! I bought it specifically hoping that Sod's Law would do me a favour for a change. I'll let you know if it works out.
Head of the BBC: Good afternoon Miss. Mills, we have considered your application very carefully and would like to inform you that you have been successful.
Me: Oh... well, that's a pity. I would have loved to, but I can't. I've just bought an eight-pack of loo roll, and well, I'd hate to leave Spain before it was all used up... it's quilted, you see...
In other news, I received a wonderful email from the people at The Debut Magazine saying that they are going to feature one of my blog posts (The Break-Up) in its next issue. I am extremely excited about it and it has really made my month. It's an online magazine which will hopefully go into print next year for "focussed, motivated and determined women interested in forging a career in the creative and media sector". If you haven't already, like it on Facebook and follow them on twitter, so you can see my article when it's up! :)
Sunday, 16 June 2013
The end is nigh...
The nights are getting hotter and stickier, as are the days, creepy-crawlies are being found more frequently in the house and my ice-cream consumption has quadrupled in recent weeks, which can only mean one thing; summer is coming! (A wee wink to any Game of Thrones fans out there who may have recognised my not-so-veiled reference).
Indeed, as the days get longer and the temperatures reach stiflingly-hot highs of nearly 40 degrees, student numbers in classes tend to dwindle, despite the fact that the academy has powerful air-conditioning. Motivation levels simply melt away. It is at this time that people in Spain abandon academia to spend their days on the beach, and in all honesty, who can blame them? Who needs or wants to know about infinitives, phrasal verbs and prepositions when you have a tan to be topped up!
It does mean though that most of my classes are coming to an end and it is a bittersweet sensation. Though I haven't officially announced it yet, a select few know of my decision not to carry on teaching next year. Most of the reactions I have had have been extremely flattering, with them thanking me and telling me they will miss my classes, which tugs at my heartstrings and makes me want to stay. However, others have been a bit more selfish about the situation, saying things like "What about me? I finally find a teacher I like, and she leaves. Great, what am I going to do now?". While I sympathise with their situation, it feels a bit like they don't see me as a person, just as a teacher who is there to do a job. I am glad I have been able to help them, but there are other things that I want to do with my life - as you well know as a reader of this blog. I have a family I want to be near... I haven't lived in proximity to my relatives in about a decade, and I have a nephew on the way. My boyfriend is moving to the UK and it would be unbearable to be apart from him. I want to get into the BBC or journalism of some form. What's more is that I am excited and ready to move on, I just hope that with time they will be able to appreciate this.
So, I have started the process of saying my goodbyes to the friends, colleagues and students I have made over the past 3 years, which is never easy. Therefore, I let a song do it for me. Something that I always do in my final classes (for those with enough level) is play Baz Luhrmann's "Wear Sunscreen". It is a song that has helped and inspired me through many difficult moments in my life, and I feel that part of my duty as a teacher is to inspire others in return. So, I play the song and say that if they have learned nothing else from me at all during the course, then I at least hope they will take something away from this. I truly think the world would be a better place if we all learned to follow Baz's advice.
This may be the beginning of the end of one chapter, but it is the start of another one, and I'm ready to turn the page and start writing the next installment of my life.
Indeed, as the days get longer and the temperatures reach stiflingly-hot highs of nearly 40 degrees, student numbers in classes tend to dwindle, despite the fact that the academy has powerful air-conditioning. Motivation levels simply melt away. It is at this time that people in Spain abandon academia to spend their days on the beach, and in all honesty, who can blame them? Who needs or wants to know about infinitives, phrasal verbs and prepositions when you have a tan to be topped up!
It does mean though that most of my classes are coming to an end and it is a bittersweet sensation. Though I haven't officially announced it yet, a select few know of my decision not to carry on teaching next year. Most of the reactions I have had have been extremely flattering, with them thanking me and telling me they will miss my classes, which tugs at my heartstrings and makes me want to stay. However, others have been a bit more selfish about the situation, saying things like "What about me? I finally find a teacher I like, and she leaves. Great, what am I going to do now?". While I sympathise with their situation, it feels a bit like they don't see me as a person, just as a teacher who is there to do a job. I am glad I have been able to help them, but there are other things that I want to do with my life - as you well know as a reader of this blog. I have a family I want to be near... I haven't lived in proximity to my relatives in about a decade, and I have a nephew on the way. My boyfriend is moving to the UK and it would be unbearable to be apart from him. I want to get into the BBC or journalism of some form. What's more is that I am excited and ready to move on, I just hope that with time they will be able to appreciate this.
So, I have started the process of saying my goodbyes to the friends, colleagues and students I have made over the past 3 years, which is never easy. Therefore, I let a song do it for me. Something that I always do in my final classes (for those with enough level) is play Baz Luhrmann's "Wear Sunscreen". It is a song that has helped and inspired me through many difficult moments in my life, and I feel that part of my duty as a teacher is to inspire others in return. So, I play the song and say that if they have learned nothing else from me at all during the course, then I at least hope they will take something away from this. I truly think the world would be a better place if we all learned to follow Baz's advice.
This may be the beginning of the end of one chapter, but it is the start of another one, and I'm ready to turn the page and start writing the next installment of my life.
Sunday, 9 June 2013
Je suis une femme
As you do on a typically standard Sunday evening, I have decided to brush up on my French. I will forever be indebted to my high school for instilling my love of Spanish into me, but, unfortunately, the same cannot be said for French. Our class went through various teachers in mere months, which made any type of continuity extremely difficult. One teacher in particular divided us into "the good side" and "the bad side", according to behaviour, which was just screaming out for trouble. The "bad side" started living up to their name and before you knew it, the whole class had been sent out to wait on the corridor as punishment. I also distinctly remember studying "le petit déjeuner" for an entire term, before finally moving onto "mon glace", which is wonderfully useful for if I ever find myself stranded in Paris at breakfast time or perhaps mid-afternoon in spring/summer to enjoy a refreshing ice-cream, but pretty much useless for anything and everything else. Looking back, I probably should have done a joint degree at university and taken the opportunity to learn another language then. However, at the time my feeling was that it was better to be a master of one trade, rather than a jack of several and my negative experience of French was enough to put me off for life, or so I thought.
So, I say "brush up" but what I really mean is start from scratch. I have downloaded a free app onto my mobile and am learning such tidbits as "Je mange" (I am eating) and "Il a un enfant" (He has a child). You have to start somewhere, and as I always say to my students, start with the basics. If you know how to say "he has a child", but it isn't true, he actually has two rabbits and a parakeet, yet you don't have the vocabulary for this, then you should say "he has a child" and perfect the structure until you can substitute one thing for another. Don't try to be too ambitious at the very beginning.
This is something that I have realised for myself this week - sometimes we forget to take our own advice. I am being impatient on the job front. I am spending every waking minute that I have, (when not at work, obviously) focussing on applications and what I can do to improve my profile whilst constantly searching for entry-level positions. Being proactive is obviously a positive thing, but I think it can be taken too far. At the moment I am restricted geographically as to what I can do and it is making me anxious. I am in Spain until at least the end of June, but most likely until the end of July, and I feel that the job-hunt will be infinitely easier when I am based in the UK. (Being able to phone, or go door-to-door if needs be is invaluable... there's a lot to be said for face-to-face contact).
So, I have decided (mainly for my sanity) to take things with a bit more calm and patience for now. Obviously I won't give up on my media dream and I will keep my eye out for opportunities and keep applying, but, until I am in a better position to be proactive, I am going to keep myself busy with running, French and this blog of course! (Passport story coming soon...) It's all too easy to want everything now, (especially me, my mum once compared me to a rottweiler, saying that when I have an idea I will just not let it go) but patience is a virtue. I just have to trust that it will happen... soon, but not now.
So, I say "brush up" but what I really mean is start from scratch. I have downloaded a free app onto my mobile and am learning such tidbits as "Je mange" (I am eating) and "Il a un enfant" (He has a child). You have to start somewhere, and as I always say to my students, start with the basics. If you know how to say "he has a child", but it isn't true, he actually has two rabbits and a parakeet, yet you don't have the vocabulary for this, then you should say "he has a child" and perfect the structure until you can substitute one thing for another. Don't try to be too ambitious at the very beginning.
This is something that I have realised for myself this week - sometimes we forget to take our own advice. I am being impatient on the job front. I am spending every waking minute that I have, (when not at work, obviously) focussing on applications and what I can do to improve my profile whilst constantly searching for entry-level positions. Being proactive is obviously a positive thing, but I think it can be taken too far. At the moment I am restricted geographically as to what I can do and it is making me anxious. I am in Spain until at least the end of June, but most likely until the end of July, and I feel that the job-hunt will be infinitely easier when I am based in the UK. (Being able to phone, or go door-to-door if needs be is invaluable... there's a lot to be said for face-to-face contact).
So, I have decided (mainly for my sanity) to take things with a bit more calm and patience for now. Obviously I won't give up on my media dream and I will keep my eye out for opportunities and keep applying, but, until I am in a better position to be proactive, I am going to keep myself busy with running, French and this blog of course! (Passport story coming soon...) It's all too easy to want everything now, (especially me, my mum once compared me to a rottweiler, saying that when I have an idea I will just not let it go) but patience is a virtue. I just have to trust that it will happen... soon, but not now.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
Determined not to be deterred
In my
last post, I wrote about the fact that I hadn't yet heard anything
back from my applications. Well, now I have. As you can tell from the
tone so far and the fact that this is not written in capital letters
and accompanied by a million exclamation marks, it wasn't positive.
While
I can't say the rejection was a complete surprise, there is always a
small part of you that wants to believe that this time will be
different. I may not have had all of the experience or knowledge that
they were looking for, but I still believe I have a lot of potential
and you always hope that someone will see enough in you to take a
chance on you.
Still,
it isn't the first time my application 'has been unsuccessful', and I
am not naïve enough to think that it will be the last. Knockbacks
are a part of the deal and I am qualified to say this as one of the
world's foremost experts in resilience and tenacity.
Yes,
while it isn't something I like to make public, (I don't go shouting
it from the rooftops or anything), it's true that I failed my driving
test several times. Without being too specific, when I say several, I
mean several – more than a couple, more than a few,
I-need-to-take-off-my-socks-to-count-how-many-times-I-failed-because-my-hands-just-aren't-enough
kinda several.
Now,
I don't want you to think I am a terrible driver because I'm not. (I
heard you scoff after reading that.) But genuinely, I would just
crumble under the pressure and it was a vicious cycle, the more times
I failed, the more pressure I felt to perform the next time. After
failing the first five times (I could even say the second five
times... the fact that I can count them in scores is worrying!)
people started to say to me things like “Don't worry, driving isn't
for everyone... maybe it just isn't for you” and suggesting I save
my time, money and further heartache by investing in a bus pass.
I,
however, refused to give up as knew that I would get there in my own
way and my own time. Funnily enough, the day of my exam, I was so
convinced I was going to fail again (force of habit) that it took the
pressure right off and that's when I passed. The whole experience was
invaluable and actually, as strange as it may seem, I wouldn't sell
my soul to the devil to change it to having passed first time. I can
even say now that I flourish under pressure, like the time I argued my way out
of Spain without a passport, but that's a story for another day.
So,
if at first you don't succeed... try and try and try (and try and try
and if necessary, try) again. If it's worth doing, it's worth the
effort. I have one no for now from the BBC, but I still have two more
things to hear back from. If they are negative too, well, as my
boyfriend says “El 'no' ya lo tienes”, which means, you
already have a “no” before you even try, so you might as well go
for it because you won't lose anything.
Onwards
and upwards! :)
Sunday, 2 June 2013
Blogging basics and blogger's block
The thing about writing a successful blog is that it should have a theme; a clear narrative thread which neatly ties everything together and makes sense of all the entries, unifying them into an anthology of ideas and not just a collection of random waffle. For instance, if I were Carrie Bradshaw, I could write about an endless string of men (chance would be a fine thing!) and focus on my love of Manolo Blahniks. If I were a food critic, I could share mouth-watering recipes and reviews of swanky restaurants. If I were a One Direction nut, I could write about Zayn's dreamy eyes and how Harry Styles and I were going to be '2getha 4eva I.D.S.T' (If you don't know what those letters stand for, that means you were never a teenage girl). Hell, even if I were a nun I could blog about sermons and spreading the Lord's message. But I am not any of those people, I am me - an English teacher in Spain who wants to change and do something more.
So that was meant to be the basis of my blog, to document the ups-and-downs of that journey. But, what do you write about when the journey doesn't seem to be progressing? The blog still has to be updated and the show must go on. They say you can never go wrong if you write about what you know, but what happens when you have a quiet week and you don't know very much at all? I know the capital of New Zealand is Wellington, I know the names of the members of the Sugababes in their varying configurations, and if you put me in the Mastermind chair I could probably recite them in order according to chronological appearance. But it's not really relevant.
So, I am still in limbo, waiting to hear back from applications and thus have little to fill you in on on the work front. As my Grandma would say "What do you know - owt or nowt?" and at the moment, it would have to be nowt. Here's hoping they respond to me soon, or else I may have to start writing about something I do know... Spanish vocabulary, English grammar or the lyrics to the Fresh Prince rap. I should put that on my CV.
Tuesday, 28 May 2013
Mosquitoes do not respect boundaries
There are countless things that I am going to miss about living la vida española, namely seeing the sun every day (I will probably succumb to seasonal affective disorder once back in the UK and feel that every grey cloud is some sort of pathetic fallacy to reflect my yearning for sunnier climes) and the wonderful food and drink, which goes without saying. (While there are many Spanish restaurants and tapas bars in the UK, it is not quite the same as basking in the sun on a terrace with a sangría and montadito, all for a couple of euros).
However, there are also many things that I will not miss. The sunshine may be a welcome change for a Brit abroad, but, as the warmer weather creeps in, so do all the pests.
Yesterday, for example, I woke up with this. All I can say is that I must be extremely tasty.
One of the most annoying things about the Spanish summer is the mosquitoes. There is nothing more terrifying than lying in bed at night, just drifting off after a long day, when you hear the high-pitched buzz of a mosquito rush past your ear like a torpedo. It is a hard sound to put into words, but it is as if Lewis Hamilton drove past you at top speed in his F1 car. Nothing can wake you up faster or with more of a jolt. You then have to turn on the light and search for the little bugger before you can rest soundly, knowing that you won't be eaten alive. However, they are stealthy little things and are actually incredibly hard to spot, even more so to kill.
I am not a fan of them, but I have come to accept the inevitability of my being eaten. They seem to like my pale white skin. I prefer to think that I am some sort of exotic delicacy to them (which is rather flattering!) seeing as they normally prey on the olivy-toned skin of the Spanish. My boyfriend, however, is traumatised by the idea, and will sit awake with a can of insect repellent in his hand if needs be, rather than fall asleep and let them win. (Although, having me by his side, he would probably make it to the morning unscathed whereas I would look like I had the measles!)
To try and reassure him, I said: "Don't worry, we don't have mosquitoes in England, so that's one less thing we'll have to worry about".
Then, something I was told years ago came back to me in an instant.
On my gap year nearly ten years ago, I went to Ecuador to work as a volunteer with street children, and about five years ago, I revisited my Ecuadorian family and friends with my best friend Louise. As any good traveller should do, before going, we had our booster vaccinations and went to speak to the nurse about the possibility of anti-malarial tablets. With a country like Ecuador, the risk of malaria varies greatly depending on where you go. For example, its capital city, Quito, is at some 9,350 feet above sea-level, so the chance of being bitten there is slimmer than if you are based down at the coast. To illustrate this to us, the nurse pulled out this map and indicated which areas were more prone to mosquitoes than others.
She turned to us and said, with the most wonderfully dead-pan face you have ever seen and without a hint of irony:
What an absolutely brilliant thing to say! I can just imagine a swarm of mosquitoes patrolling the night sky, wearing goggles and little scarves flailing in the wind, like old-fashioned fighter pilots, looking for their next source of blood, licking their lips (do mosquitoes have lips?) in anticipation. Suddenly, they approach a border and screech to a halt...
"Woah, woah... get back lads! Get back! This is no-mosquitoes land. Entry denied. Let's turn back lads, mission aborted".
So I have it on good authority, from a medical professional no less, that mosquitoes are, in fact, the rebels without causes of the insect world. You can tell them that this is out of bounds, but will they listen? No. They hold absolutely no regard for any laws or restrictions. So, as reassuring as I tried to be, saying that there won't be any mosquitoes in the UK... who knows? Maybe they will throw caution to the wind and come with us!
However, there are also many things that I will not miss. The sunshine may be a welcome change for a Brit abroad, but, as the warmer weather creeps in, so do all the pests.
Yesterday, for example, I woke up with this. All I can say is that I must be extremely tasty.
One of the most annoying things about the Spanish summer is the mosquitoes. There is nothing more terrifying than lying in bed at night, just drifting off after a long day, when you hear the high-pitched buzz of a mosquito rush past your ear like a torpedo. It is a hard sound to put into words, but it is as if Lewis Hamilton drove past you at top speed in his F1 car. Nothing can wake you up faster or with more of a jolt. You then have to turn on the light and search for the little bugger before you can rest soundly, knowing that you won't be eaten alive. However, they are stealthy little things and are actually incredibly hard to spot, even more so to kill.
I am not a fan of them, but I have come to accept the inevitability of my being eaten. They seem to like my pale white skin. I prefer to think that I am some sort of exotic delicacy to them (which is rather flattering!) seeing as they normally prey on the olivy-toned skin of the Spanish. My boyfriend, however, is traumatised by the idea, and will sit awake with a can of insect repellent in his hand if needs be, rather than fall asleep and let them win. (Although, having me by his side, he would probably make it to the morning unscathed whereas I would look like I had the measles!)
To try and reassure him, I said: "Don't worry, we don't have mosquitoes in England, so that's one less thing we'll have to worry about".
Then, something I was told years ago came back to me in an instant.
On my gap year nearly ten years ago, I went to Ecuador to work as a volunteer with street children, and about five years ago, I revisited my Ecuadorian family and friends with my best friend Louise. As any good traveller should do, before going, we had our booster vaccinations and went to speak to the nurse about the possibility of anti-malarial tablets. With a country like Ecuador, the risk of malaria varies greatly depending on where you go. For example, its capital city, Quito, is at some 9,350 feet above sea-level, so the chance of being bitten there is slimmer than if you are based down at the coast. To illustrate this to us, the nurse pulled out this map and indicated which areas were more prone to mosquitoes than others.
She turned to us and said, with the most wonderfully dead-pan face you have ever seen and without a hint of irony:
"This area is not a high-risk zone, but remember - mosquitoes don't respect boundaries".
What an absolutely brilliant thing to say! I can just imagine a swarm of mosquitoes patrolling the night sky, wearing goggles and little scarves flailing in the wind, like old-fashioned fighter pilots, looking for their next source of blood, licking their lips (do mosquitoes have lips?) in anticipation. Suddenly, they approach a border and screech to a halt...
"Woah, woah... get back lads! Get back! This is no-mosquitoes land. Entry denied. Let's turn back lads, mission aborted".
So I have it on good authority, from a medical professional no less, that mosquitoes are, in fact, the rebels without causes of the insect world. You can tell them that this is out of bounds, but will they listen? No. They hold absolutely no regard for any laws or restrictions. So, as reassuring as I tried to be, saying that there won't be any mosquitoes in the UK... who knows? Maybe they will throw caution to the wind and come with us!
Sunday, 26 May 2013
Lazy Sunday
Good morning! Or should I say afternoon, it is ten past two Spanish time after all... but as I have just eaten pancakes for breakfast and am still in my pyjamas, I think morning is permitted. What a wonderful start to a Sunday! [Note: I am starting to see a bit of a theme, you are going to think I spend all my time in my pyjamas. I honestly don't, it is just a coincidence that the time I have available for blogging is on a weekend morning and I write before getting on with the rest of the day. I'm sure I'm not the first creative type to find inspiration lounging around their house].
On the job front, two deadlines have now passed, so I am anxiously waiting to hear any kind of news from those (and we all know how that goes, see the break-up for details). Also, I came across another opportunity at ITV which would be absolutely wonderful for me, so I have just submitted my application for that too. So that's three fingers in three different pies. Hopefully something will come out of it... fingers crossed! (On the other hand obviously, I can't cross them AND have them in a pie).
In other news, Rafa (my boyfriend) and I are starting to get ourselves organised and take care of the paperwork and other minor irritations involved in changing countries. Vodafone are being particularly unhelpful, as to cancel our mobile internet connection we have to send a copy of our ID number by fax. FAX! I don't know if it is only Spain that is behind the times, but I honestly thought that fax machines had become obsolete and were now only relics worthy of museums. Do people really still use them? I am having similar problems with bank accounts too. Still, it has to be done.
Speaking of things that have to be done, yesterday was taken up with cleaning the house like a madwoman just in case I get "the call" and have to leave with minimal notice. (Positive thinking!) I can't have the landlord or any potential tenants of the flat see it in its normal state, so as of now, we are on our best behaviour.
Personally, I can't believe how quickly time is going... it seems that Christmas was only a few weeks ago, but here we are nearly in June. Hopefully before I know it, I'll be back in the UK working hard. I hope you enjoy the rest of your Sunday, and for those of you lucky devils who have a bank holiday tomorrow, make the most of it... I don't have the day off!
On the job front, two deadlines have now passed, so I am anxiously waiting to hear any kind of news from those (and we all know how that goes, see the break-up for details). Also, I came across another opportunity at ITV which would be absolutely wonderful for me, so I have just submitted my application for that too. So that's three fingers in three different pies. Hopefully something will come out of it... fingers crossed! (On the other hand obviously, I can't cross them AND have them in a pie).
In other news, Rafa (my boyfriend) and I are starting to get ourselves organised and take care of the paperwork and other minor irritations involved in changing countries. Vodafone are being particularly unhelpful, as to cancel our mobile internet connection we have to send a copy of our ID number by fax. FAX! I don't know if it is only Spain that is behind the times, but I honestly thought that fax machines had become obsolete and were now only relics worthy of museums. Do people really still use them? I am having similar problems with bank accounts too. Still, it has to be done.
Speaking of things that have to be done, yesterday was taken up with cleaning the house like a madwoman just in case I get "the call" and have to leave with minimal notice. (Positive thinking!) I can't have the landlord or any potential tenants of the flat see it in its normal state, so as of now, we are on our best behaviour.
Personally, I can't believe how quickly time is going... it seems that Christmas was only a few weeks ago, but here we are nearly in June. Hopefully before I know it, I'll be back in the UK working hard. I hope you enjoy the rest of your Sunday, and for those of you lucky devils who have a bank holiday tomorrow, make the most of it... I don't have the day off!
Tuesday, 21 May 2013
Life's little lessons
**WARNING - Philosophical content**
I used to really enjoy reading Aesop's fables as a child; little stories with a greater allegorical meaning and edifying messages to instruct you on how to live your life. We all know about the tortoise and the hare, and that slow and steady wins the race. I am not denying that this is true, in fact, many times it has been proven to be spot on, but I think that, in its own way, life teaches you its own lessons in the strangest of ways, without the need to turn to a book for the answer.
For instance, I remember very clearly a time at primary school when we were rehearsing a play about the Greek gods. Our teacher, Mrs. Atkins, in her infinite wisdom, decided it was a really good idea to audition the parts out. Very democratic and fair of her you may think. However, it was not her who decided which roles we were given, but our classmates. I can still see it now, we were in the assembly hall and four or five of us had to deliver lines for different parts. Subsequently, the rest of the class voted for who did it best. As if that wasn't traumatic enough for most children to be judged in such a way, I was a particularly sensitive child (I know, it's shocking, isn't it?). Needless to say, primary school was also much like a popularity contest and I was the fat kid who was always chosen last for games. Literally.
So, as the parts were given out and we were working our way down the hierarchy of the deities, and I was still left standing, we finally got to the role of Hermes. My Greek mythology is a little rusty now, but I believe he was the god of travel, communication, language and writing - perfect for me really! (Although according to Wikipedia he was also known for thievery, trickery and athletics (bah!)... maybe not.) He served as a messenger to the gods, with winged sandals to help him travel faster. So, for this role, the actor had to run - lightening fast - from one side of the stage to the other about three times before delivering their lines. So, I ran - or shall I say more accurately, waddled - my way back and forth and the other children, being as cruel as only children are, decided I did it best and that that part was for me. Although if I remember correctly, it may have been the final part to be assigned.
Anyway, as I practised, I became more and more self-conscious about the part and thought that it wasn't for me and that I would end up being ridiculed. Besides, it was very tiring to do all that running. I mentioned my doubts to the teacher and she asked if anyone would like to switch roles with me. Another girl, let's call her Sarah, basically because that was her name, immediately volunteered and in an instant I was demoted to banging a drum off-stage.
I regretted my decision instantly and I was inconsolable. After all, it may have been hard but it was my part, and the grass is always greener on the other side. It was infinitely better than being part of the percussion section! (No offence to any percussionists, I just preferred drama to music). I went home that day and my Mum could tell something was wrong, as even her chocolate-rice-krispie nests couldn't cheer me up. (That's the thing about me, if chocolate can't do it, there is no amount of prozac or any other antidepressant that can lift me out of it). But it was too late, Sarah had my part now, and there was nothing I could do about it. I went on to play that drum as best I could, but I always felt remorse over giving up so easily.
I remember thinking even at that young age that I would learn from the experience and I wouldn't let it happen again. So, although it may seem inane or trivial, what I learned then, was actually of great value:
Don't give up on something so easily and don't be deterred, it may be hard work, but you will regret it if you don't try or see it through.
I'm sure things have happened in your life too, that, from the outside, may seem ridiculous but actually were of great importance to you. It is from these things that we should learn and it will help us infinitely more than an abstract moral from a story.
There are always going to be Sarahs in this world waiting to make the most of an opportunity that you don't, and I can't believe I almost forgot that. Just over a year ago I almost gave up entertaining any notion of breaking into the media because it was too hard or too costly, but I recently remembered this anecdote which helped me to get back on track. It goes to show that you never know what is around the corner.
On that note, I am off to work on my next application...
Saturday, 18 May 2013
The Nicaragua Effect
Is there a name for that phenomenon
where you are blissfully unaware of something, but as soon as you
know what it is, you see it everywhere? Let me explain.
Let's say for
example, somebody mentions to you that they are going on a gap year
to Nicaragua, it seems something quite random and out-of-the-blue.
Something which you would be unlikely to hear again, right? Wrong. As
of that moment it is almost guaranteed that you will hear more things
about Nicaragua in the following weeks than you have ever heard
before in your life. Deidre will suddenly start mentioning Nicaragua
in Coronation Street or The X Factor will offer a
two-week-all-expenses-paid holiday there as its next prize.
Let's put
toasters as another example; yours breaks and you want to buy a new
one. So you do.. Simple enough. Then, you suddenly start seeing
toasters / toaster ads / toast everywhere. (I don't mean that pieces
of toast run after you down the street or anything, I'm not
paranoid). I can't be the only one this has happened to, surely?
The question is, am I more aware of it
because of my heightened sensibility to the subject and it has always
been there but I just didn't notice it before, or is it some kind of
universal conspiracy and has just coincidentally started at the same
time? The 'chicken-and-egg'-ness of it all is enough to drive you
crazy, and I am sure there are many differing opinions on the matter
(which, by the way, you are more than welcome to leave in the
comments below).
It came to my mind this week though
because it seems that now I have decided to make a change, it is
everywhere. Some of my friends on Facebook have written things saying
that “it is never too late to start again” and they are so happy that they
decided to change careers etc. I do think though that it is
solid advice, and that you are never too old to try something new.
Life is too short to do something that you aren't passionate about,
so just go for it.
On that note, I have been tweeting away and connecting with some old contacts, and it couldn't have gone better!
On that note, I have been tweeting away and connecting with some old contacts, and it couldn't have gone better!
The BBC even replied to my tweet saying
my last blog entry was “very witty” and told me to keep at it. I
have applied for work experience with them and am waiting for news on
that, and some contacts at the BBC have given me some great advice
and said they will help me out if necessary, so things are looking
up. A couple of interesting jobs have cropped up too, so I'll throw
my hat into the ring. Who knows, you've got to be in it to win it!
I'll finish today with my phrase of the week:
I'll finish today with my phrase of the week:
Tuesday, 14 May 2013
The break-up
As I'm sat on the sofa in my pyjamas and have to shamefully admit that before eleven o'clock in the morning I have already cracked open the homemade chocolate fudge, it has suddenly dawned on me that applying to the BBC or ITV for work experience is a lot like going through a break-up.
To start with, you have the constant need to check your email every two minutes and look at your phone to see if they have called. You know damn well they haven't, but somehow you convince yourself that possibly it went off while you were in the bathroom or while you were in the kitchen stocking up on nerve-abating junk. (Which you also know is not true, because you take your phone with you everywhere, even to the loo, just in case the Head of the BBC or ITV phones you to say you are an inspiration and you absolutely must work for them immediately. Hey... it could happen, a lot of life-changing moments can happen on the porcelain throne, I've read "Love it!" magazine enough times to know that you can enter the WC thinking you need the toilet and come out with a baby. And need I even mention Elvis?)
When the inevitable happens and the phone doesn't ring, you start over-analysing everything you said (or didn't say for that matter) in the application and, if you were lucky enough, the interview. The "if-onlys" set in... "If only I had mentioned more volunteer work... I shouldn't have used this word instead of that one... I forgot to mention the high-school newspaper that I worked on in 1998!! Noooo!"
Then comes the lowest point as with any break up... desperation. Maybe I should write to them to ask about the status of the application? Maybe I should apply again in a different way? I CAN BE ANYTHING YOU WANT ME TO BE... GIVE ME A CHANCE!!!
Stalking them on Facebook doesn't help either, there they are, happily uploading photos of their life without you in it and tweeting about their next trainee scheme. They move on, and quickly. You scour the profiles of people they have chosen and think maliciously "What does she have that I don't? A degree in broadcast journalism? Cow. I could have had one of those if I had wanted."
Sometimes they have the decency to let you know that it's not you, it's them... there were hundreds of applicants and the quality of applications was higher than ever. However, sometimes they just don't return your calls and if you haven't heard from them in a few months, you can take yourself as dumped.
The course of action to "get over" it varies from person to person. Maybe you will go out drinking with your friends and say sod them... it's their loss. Maybe you will listen longingly to podcasts and eat your weight in häagen-dazs (a la Bridget Jones). Personally, I think I will throw myself into lots of rebound relationships and whore myself out, work experience at this company, helping out at that one... Who knows, I might succeed in making them jealous.
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