Monday, 14 May 2012

The Lost Months of Chick in the City: August 2011 - Great Expectations

So you've heard all about the proposal and I've told you about gaining my degree - so what comes next? Well, that same question came bouncing off of the lips of many of may friends and family:  "What are you going to do now you've graduated?"  If i was asked once i was interrogated 100 times.

I'd always wanted to be a teacher.  I'd done plenty of voluntary work in a school during my year out from uni, so naturally when i saw an advert for a Graduate Teacher Programme (GTP) i HAD to apply.  As I'd got so much classroom time under my belt already, i was a shoo in for an interview at least!  And so the invitation arrived "we would like to invite you to interview for the English GTP".  I was told to inform them of any requirements i had due to disability. 

I dutifully responded to confirm my attendance and to put in my requests:
  • A parking space
  • Access to disabled toilets
  • A stair-free day
Everyone knows that those with reduced mobility are best to stay on the ground floor, no?!  Well evidently not.  On the day all three requirements were forgotten.  No space was reserved for me to park in, i had to ask multiple times before knowledge of disabled loos were surrendered and i was forced to climb sooo many stairs i just wanted to lay down and cry.

This experience showed me that until those in charge of schools can learn to negotiate the needs of disabled people, they will not provide 'us' with a happy working environment (unless of cause you legs are paralysed-even the most idiotic admin worker seems to understand THAT!).  After the interview day i was poorly for two weeks.  I am NOT cut out to work in a school; I had no idea how physically demanding the job would be.

So this brought me back to square one, "What are you going to do with your degree?"  Well the honest answer is, I'm already doing something with it, I'm a writer.  But until my name is plastered all over billboards and my books are in WH Smiths this answer is unsatisfactory for most.  So I made a really controversial decision...

I now tick the box that says 'Housewife'. 

I am a modern day feminist living the life of a 1950's housewife, and do you know what?  I'm happy.  This arrangement suits all three of us - me, my fiance and Arthur.  While my other half gets to live in a clean and tidy home, with his dinner in the oven after work, I get to indulge in my true passion; writing.  Meanwhile, once the chores are finished Arthur gets his own way too.  Although when Arthur's having a particularly demanding day, there's no job that I have to do that cant wait until tomorrow (the future Mr Chick isn't a tyrant you know!)

Maybe I should move to Wisteria Lane...

This blog was created by Chick in the City

Sunday, 6 May 2012

The Lost Months of Chick in the City: July 2011 - Graduation

As you all know, I've been studying hard to achieve a degree in English Literature.  Therefore the months between December 2010 and July 2011 were pretty much written off.  My life came to a grinding halt while my days were spent researching, writing, redrafting, and proofreading.  While my nights were spent worrying and panicking over essays due the next morning, reading that hadn't been finished or generally the fact that my ass needed kicking out of bed so early my bones were duty bound to protest!  My life and my head were jam packed with 'Final Year Stress' - and Arthur clearly demands that he MUST be my number one priority, ALWAYS.  I i thought he would give me an easy ride i had got it very, very wrong!  Every time a deadline approached he'd attack with full force.  Making this, that or the other swell up and hurt so much i couldn't tell where one bit started and another ended.  Excessive essay writing is a KILLER on the hands.  I persevered though, completed all my essays and exams, including a 10,000 word dissertation on the feminine figure in vampire fiction, to achieve my BA English degree, and graduated with Honours. 

Arthur tried his best to put me down and made it a bloody tough year, but after having to take a year out following my hip replaced in 2009, i was adamant that I'd have the last laugh!!!  While i was hard at work studying my ass off,  I felt rotten, emotionally drained and physically bollocks - but do i regret any of it?? Not one bit.  I achieved something that my teachers at school probably thought would never be possible - and for my collection of high grades I am very proud... I'm not saying I'd choose to do it all again mind; well not yet anyway...maybe once the literature bug bites again i might return to do a masters...but we'll see.

My point is, guys and gals - that although Arthur is a pig, and sometimes life seems incredibly, overwhelmingly difficult, we need to push hard to get through and knock Arthur's stupid block off!

I'm not going to tell you that anything is possible; I'd be lying.  But i will maintain that you should always try, never give up on believing in yourself and if sometimes you don't succeed, shake off the hurt and try something else, something new, instead.

This blog was created by Chick in the City

Saturday, 28 April 2012

The Lost Months of Chick in the City: December 2010 'The Proposal'

After 7 whole years of suffering each other, putting up with each others little quirks and having many giggles at, and with, each other, my boyfriend proposed.

It's time to commit to another gentleman - so Arthur can move his sorry ass aside!

I have to admit the proposal wasn't a total surprise, aside from the fact tat I'd spent the last four years dropping numerous hints that a ring "might be nice", I'd noticed much of my finger-based jewellery disappearing only to return days later in almost-but-not-quite the same place that I'd left them. 

However, the way he did it...well that WAS a shock!

Let me take you back to Christmas eve 2010.....

The boyfriend and I hosted a party to celebrate The Night Before Christmas with family and friends.  We had drink flowing, food aplenty and all of our presents stacked dutifully around the tree when our final two guests arrived;  The other half's pregnant cousin, and her babydaddy partner of three months (i kid you not), when the announcement came:  "WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!" (they've now split up...).  I admit i felt a little envy, for us kids aren't an option - and my other half is a total commitmentphobe. 
But then it appeared under the tree, after a hushed conversation with his mother.
A tiny little shiny parcel.  Could it be a ring? My inquisitive mind wondered...  Time passed and Christmas morning came.  The boyfriend took his position as gift sorter and distributor (as well as starter-off-er for me when i receive a gift with too much tape for my stupid finger to cope with!).  We ploughed through and the pile of presents depleted.  And the shiny parcel had gone.  He must've changed his mind, my paranoid self suspected.

We had finished opening presents, supped coffee, and eaten croissants before he came up and gave my 'the little shiny parcel'.  "Here you go, have another present!" he beamed.  with trembling fingers i opened it, to reveal....


"Oh! they're lovely" i lied feeling sad and somewhat stupid.  More time passed...approximately half an hour, before the boyfriend came down the stairs and picked up the earrings, saying "do you like your present?" Again i lied before he exclaimed, "Nah, you don't want these! and threw them over his shoulder... "you want this instead" producing the most beautiful diamond ring from his dressing gown pocket and asked me to be his wife.

It was possibly one of the meanest tricks anyone has ever played on me - but undoubtedly one of the best moments of my life so far.

This blog was created by Chick in the City

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

I'm having a little touble with a certain site stealing my blog i've changed a few settings, lets see if it helps!!! This is just a test post!

This blog was created by Chick in the City

Tuesday, 21 September 2010

Live Life Loud!!!!

Hello my dearest Chickadees!!  I hope you'll all accept my sincerest apologies for the delay between posts; life got in the way!!! 

Things have been pretty demanding lately what with my impending return to university.  I'm talking stacks of reading, research and general prep.  As well as shouting at the completely inefficient admin staff who are so inept they couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery, let alone make sure an I.D card gets to its correct location. 

Last week also saw my exam results from last year finally being issued, all of which i passed no problemo, and am on track for a 2:1 but I'm gunna do my damnedest to push  it up to a 1st for final results time. 

Before all the uni chaos i headed off to Leeds Festival with the boyfriend to enjoy a days worth of punk rock, albeit, mainly from the safety of the 'disabled viewing platform' - which i have to say offered some damn good views!  The day itself was awesome, cold but awesome!  it showcased some of the finest acts from the UK and the states, including Limp Bizkit (the highlight of the day), headliners Blink182, All Time Low, Paramore (who frankly sucked) and youmeatsix amongst others. 

I'm looking forward to a few more gigs this year, the boyfriend is taking me to see Bowling For Soup as part of my birthday present, then we're going to see Good Charlotte early next year.  I'm hoping to go see Linkin Park too; possibly even 30 Seconds to Mars and A7X if i can find someone willing to accompany me (and nooo i'm not touting for offers, thanks anyway!)  

All in all Chickens, my point is this:  life's short, your a long time dead.  So live live to the max and seize the moment while the opportunity exists. 

Don't put off today because it can wait 'til tomorrow and avoid getting caught in a rut disguising itself as routine. 

Life is best lived happily.

Wednesday, 18 August 2010

Benefits. Really?

I'm sure we have all questioned from time to time who our benefit system really truly goes to help. We live in a society where the sick and disabled are given a meagre income that doesn't honestly reflect the costs of life. Yet each and every poxy penny has to be so meticulously applied for that you are left with that empty, hopeless, sinking feeling.

Has anybody noticed how recently 'public enemy number one' are those less able than others? Stealing, sponging, skiving, scum. That's what the news reporters seem to struggle to keep from tripping off their tongue. I'm beginning to think that the Cuntservatives and the Liberal Demotwats will soon order a mass genocide of 'disabled cleansing'. They're certainly stirring up enough nationwide hatred.

Do people really believe that those with disabilities WANT to be in the situation which they find themselves in? Do they not consider that most folk would much rather NOT be disabled in the first place? Most blind men aren't blind because they've gauged out their own eyes, so why do people think that those with faulty bones are in some way responsible for their fate??

Just think of all those horrendous duties which are involved in our 'selfish sponging'. Take the process of applying for DLA for example. Has anyone ever experienced a more demoralising, depressing and excruciatingly painful form of semi-public humiliation? Perhaps those quick to pass judgement should think hard about the whole ordeal- wherein you are made to think about every aspect of daily life which is impossible without 'mobility aids' or 'personal assistance.'

I wish sometimes that more people would understand what it's like to struggle with the many things which we do, to cry with desperation and frustration when you can't even pour a glass of milk, wash your hair or make a sandwich. Even having to think before going to the loo about your capability to wipe your own backside that day.

Would they really want to swap? I don't think so somehow. Are we really rolling in it, filthy rich and oh-so-lucky. Or do we just about get by?

Sunday, 1 August 2010

No, I’m the damn Slayer!

So you're probably wondering what an arthritic 23 year old can possibly have in common with the legend that is Buffy Anne Summers, Vampire Slayer.

You'd guess right to assume I'm not a karate ninja, I have never decapitated a stoner using a cymbal and I don't screw dead people. But actually our lives are quite alike. We both have to battle demons on a daily basis as a result of our birthright. Neither I, nor the Buff had a choice in this fate, mystical forces beyond human control decided that we should spend our teens longing to be 'normal'.

Also we share a resolute and stubborn sense of self. The words "it's not safe" or "wait for backup" mean nothing to us – WE are the ones who will make that decision. So many decisions have after all been taken away from our control already.

Another thing we have in common is the problem of our future. Our fates have already been decided for us, yet no one has given us the lowdown of what to expect. Buffy stands in hope that her 'expiry date' is a long one 'like a cheeto'. I hope my joints don't expire before I'm good and ready to have more bits replaced and fixed.

While she is a vampire slayer, I am the bionic woman.

Sometimes our foes will knock us down. They will hurt and bruise our bodies and souls. They may even make us doubt our own ability and strength. Yet we will rise from the chaos bloodied and tired but never broken, never ever beaten, always stronger, more powerful and with a better sense of how our enemy may be defeated.