What's in a name?

One of the strangest things about living back in South Africa is the attitude towards relationships.

In London being single is not a crime. Being single in your 30's is accepted and very often the norm with the busy and stressful lives that people lead.

Cape Town is quite the opposite.

Thankfully I am not bothered by it but sometimes it appears that other people are bothered on my behalf.

Whilst going to Bistro Sixteen82 at Steenberg Golf Estate today:

Female Security Guard: Where are you visiting and please can I have your surname?

Miss M: Bistro Sixteen82 and M

FSG: Thank you Mrs. M, do you know where you are going?

Miss M: It's Miss M and no I don't

FSG: Leans forward slightly and smiles at me Aw don't worry, I'm a Miss too

It was round about this point that I wanted to get out of the car and bitch slap her through the face

Instead I just smiled sweetly and went on my merry way.

But what I really wanted to say

Miss M: Really lady? REALLY? Are you so pathetic and insecure that you really feel that you need to define yourself based on whether or not you are in a relationship? Get. A. Grip.

Who knows.

But all I know is that I am very happy being Miss M and don't want to change it, for the time being.

Toilet humour

I went back to my university today for a meeting with the head of the Film and Media Department about the possibility of going back to school and completing my Masters next year.

That isn't the story I'm going to tell today.

Whilst having a cup of tea with my friend Cuddles he mentioned that he had been to the roof of Jamieson Hall.

Miss M: I want to go there.

Cuddles: Now?

Miss M: Yes.

So off we went.

But that isn't the story I'm going to tell.

Whilst going up a metal ladder in to the rooftops of the building I had a mild panic attack and Cuddles had to talk me up.

Still not the story.

Once on the roof we chilled for a bit in the sunshine. Cape Town was having a beautiful day, one of those perfect days that makes me so happy to be back.

Not the story.

Now strangely enough the ladder up to the roof is situated off of a bathroom in Jamieson Hall. I'm not quite sure why they did that but hey. The space is small and cramped, pretty much just enough room for me, Cuddles and the ladder.

Cuddles: Miss M, keep quiet for a second, I think I hear someone

Miss M: Stage whisper In the toilet???

Cuddles: Ssshhh

Now let me tell you there is nothing harder than trying to keep silent whilst listening to a complete stranger enter a bathroom, unzip their pants and let rip.

I was clinging on to the ladder almost dying from trying to hold my laughter in whilst Cuddles held himself against the door in a desperate attempt to make it appear locked in case the person tried to investigate why the door was laughing uncontrollably at them.

All I could picture was him and I opening the door and walking in whilst someone sat on the toilet staring at us in shock.

I could not stop laughing.

Cuddles wasn't much help, if I looked at him he started giggling and then I was off again.

Thankfully we only waited for two people to use the bathroom before we could leave. It must have looked so funny as both of us exited the bathroom in tandem laughing hysterically.

I hope that the last person who was in there didn't see us.

Hard one to explain.

Will his Mama let him out tonight?

At what age does it stop being wrong to have a crush on a younger boy? I ask this because of late I have found myself attracted to these creatures.

Not that 27 is old at all. Proven by the below scenario.

Miss M walks in to a local pool bar

Bouncer: ID please

Miss M: Huge smile plastered across her face Really???

Miss M happily hands over her ID

Bouncer: Oh, my compliments to you!

Dear Reader I am not fooled in to believing that he thought I was under the age of 18 but perhaps 23??

However I think it is definitely improper to have a crush on a boy who, when you matriculated from high school, was only 8 years old.

When I lost my virginity he hadn't even reached double digits.

When he matriculated I was already hitting the down hill slide to 30.

When we hear of a couple who are 55 and 66 respectively we don't think anything of it. 42 and 33, not a problem. 90 and 81, so close in age.

But 25 and 16? Illegal.

27 and 18? Seriously improper.

And reverse it so that the older party member is the girl and everyone is so shocked. Cougar and cradle snatcher being some of the choice words.

Thankfully this boy does not live in Cape Town so I am saved from the embarrassment of actually doing something about this improper crush but would it really be all that bad?

Wouldn't we all like to relive our teenage years without actually having to be 18 again?

Ps - the 18 year old actually wanted me too.

Shocking.

The birds and the bees

When I worked in TV I would constantly complain that there were no straight men, only gay men, in the office.

Turns out that film is quite the opposite.

The crew is made up of 100% hot blooded heterosexual males who want nothing more than to "get their freak on".

Pity they're all married or involved and plenty of them have children.

Yet as soon as the cameras start rolling they want to start rolling with anything that moves. Is it perhaps because we are surrounded by each other for 14 hours a day and pretty much for 2 months don't have a life outside of the filming vicinity?

Or is it just because men can't keep it in their pants and film crews aren't afraid to show this?

The girls don't seem to worry that much either. It seems to be a well known fact that at some point in time during your film career you will end up sleeping with a married man and enjoy it.

It isn't like they hide the fact.

I got hit on by a Grips who in one sentence would tell me how outrageously sexy I was and that his wife also looks good in green.

Even the cast are dipping their nibs in to different pots. Each week we would receive the hotel bills for our international cast members and each week there would be a cost for an overnight visitor. In fact one cast member had someone move in to his hotel room for 3 weeks, at our expense of course. And what can we say?

Nothing.

Keep rolling rolling rolling

The marble incident did not end just there.

That would be too easy.

Every new location for base camp Asshole would complain that the trailer was at an angle and S.A.S would have to inform the poor Transport team who really had better things to worry about.

Like Chaperons going missing whilst transporting the lead cast but no Asshole's trailer is more important.

Last day of filming finally arrives.

Assistant Transport Manager walks in to the Producers trailer and in complete silence takes a marble out of his pocket. He looks straight at Asshole and puts the marble on the table.

Marble doesn't move.

ATM picks up the marble and walks out.

Oh to have been there to see the look on Asshole's face.

Losing your marbles

Over a 6 week period we were filming all around Cape Town and some neighboring areas. Base camp was moved from location to location and everyone worked out of their respective trailers.

Asshole and Mini-Me shared a trailer and their poor personal servant lived in there with them too. S.A.S's job was to make sure that all of Asshole's needs were fulfilled regardless of what they might be.

He needs coffee. Check.

His laundry needs collecting. Check.

He needs help going to the toilet. Check.

The list goes on.

One day Asshole decided that his trailer was not 100% straight. He was determined that it was at a slight angle and therefore all of his brilliance would be lost and that the movie would fail.

Right.

2200
Asshole: S.A.S please find me a marble so I can prove to the Transport team that the trailer is wonky.

S.A.S: I'll have it for you in the morning.

Asshole: No I need it now.

S.A.S: Right now?

Asshole: Yes. And if you don't find it now forget about working with us on another movie

Poor S.A.S runs to every single department on set desperately trying to find a marble. Poor girl just gets laughed out of most trailers until she reaches the stunt boys where amazingly enough one of them has a marble. We're not asking why people.

2250
S.A.S: Here you go Asshole

Asshole: What's that?

S.A.S: The ... marble ... ?

Asshole: Oh I'd forgotten about that.

Asshole.

Introductory speech

So this year I worked on my very first feature film. A Universal Studios major feature film. Quite a stamp to have on my CV I must say but definitely not as glamorous as it is sold to be.

15 hour days, 6 days a week for 2 months. I was like the walking dead half way through it. Never seeing the outside world, never seeing my friends and most horribly actually getting used to it and enjoying the torture!

I finally understand Stockholm Syndrome.

The South African team was led by The Sheriff. This man has a firm grasp of money and movies but is one scary ass motherfucker.

He screams.

A lot.

And not in a nice way.

Week 2 in to the film he made me cry. In fact I had a full blown panic attack which involved hyperventilating, cold wash clothes on my forehead, breathing in to a paper bag and tears. Oh so embarrassing but apparently you're not really in the industry unless The Sheriff has made you cry.

Our American Producers I shall coin "Asshole" and "Mini - Me".

Mini-Me was so far up Asshole's namesake that I'm surprised if he ever came out for air. To be fair he was 25 and an Assistant Producer for Universal Studios and had been given this chance by Asshole after 4 years of servitude to the ... well ... Asshole. He wasn't going to mess up for love or money and we had to know about this.

My team were lovely except for Bitch. She could be oh so sweet and then viciously take you down in one fell swoop. There was no yelling. No that was not her style. She'd rather calmly insult your intelligence/activity/personality gently and sadistically in front of the entire office.

Personally I'd take The Sheriff any day.

So now you've met the characters.

Let's get on with the story.

Look Who's Back!

Yes yes, please pick yourself up from the floor; I am here, I am writing and I am going to try and stick around for a while this time.

I know I've made promises before in the past. I know I've said that I'd always be around. I know I promised you the world.

But hey.

Shit happens.

So this time my promise to you is that I am going to TRY and keep myself going in the blogosphere. I'll TRY and not run at the first sign of writers block (perhaps the second or the third but who's counting?) and I'll TRY and keep you laughing. (or what ever it is you do when you visit my blog)

Here's hoping I manage to pull it off.

It's a new year!

This holiday season as been an absolutely fantastic one. Filled with sunshine, friends, laughter and food.

Ah the food.

I think I've eaten enough to feed a small family for a couple of months and now I am on the road to food saintdom.

You know; when you only eat because you're hungry and you remove all joy from food by eating only extremely healthy items and no fat what so ever?

Ha. That so isn't ever going to happen is it?

New Year resolutions are, as far as I'm concerned, a complete waste of time and energy. Every single year we vow to make changes, vow to do things differently and promise to make our lives the way that we know they should be.

Which lasts all of 1 month.

Or in the case of Lopz, Shoes and I last year, just 2 days.

Instead this year I am going to resolve not to make any resolutions and just take life one day at a time and see what happens.

So here is to a bloody fantastic 2010 regardless of what happens!

Ps - a job would be nice though ...

Blast from the Past

First of all I need to apologise profusely for being absent for such a long period of time.

I have no excuse. I've just been lazy. Or have just lacked the words to put my life in to perspective for everyone. Actually no, I've just been lazy.

So where to begin ...

1) I'm back living in Cape Town. Yes please, round of applause, I've made it back to our amazing country and not one fibre of my being is saying that this is the wrong decision. Perhaps in a couple of months when I am still unemployed and winter is setting in I might ... but at the moment it is all smiles.

2) I'm unemployed. Yes I know you're all saying that old refrain but this time it is at least because I've moved countries and it has only been since the 8th of December so it isn't that bad.

3) I think I've gotten fat. That'll be from the lack of climbing and far too much Christmas food but still; as of the 1st of January I am on a starvation front and no food but lettuce and water shall be passing my lips.

Let's see how long that lasts. If it is anything like last New Years resolution Lopz and I will be eating KFC as of day 1.

Ah Lopz. That is the one downside. I've left my English family behind and am now being adopted by the South African side.

Bear and Fish are amazing - so looking forward to partying it up with you guys this year!

So yes, I'm back.

Here is many stories of Cape Town jobs; amusing gaffes at work and potentially shag partners.

I've missed you guys.

Refusals all round

Is a very strange state of affairs when in your desperation for a job you start turning ones DOWN! I didn't think I'd ever be doing that but sometimes you just have got to.

1st rejection
Phone call from lovely French lady who got my number from one of my friends. They are looking for a data inputting to help out for a month.

Right I'm game. Boring work but it's money at least hey?

Not.

You have to call up businesses within shopping centers and update their information. Still with her. They pay you per business. 20p per business. So you'd basically be earning 6 pounds an hour which is about 50 quid a day, and that is if you work your arse off. Tax would take most of that and I'd be coming away with almost what I'd get on the dole when they cover my housing costs.

No. Thank. You.

It isn't that I'm picky or anything but I wouldn't be able to look for work and would be earning a pittance.

2nd rejection
Email in reply to a Co-ordinator position at a small TV/Commercials Production Company saying that they loved my CV and would like to get me in for an interview ASAP. They've attached the job spec further and the package that they are offering.

18 000 a year? What joke is this?!?! I was earning low before but this just taking it way too far.

Another turn down.

It seems a bit ridiculous to turn down 2 jobs in 1 day but you guys get where I am coming from right? I need to at least be able to cover expenses and I don't want to just jump in to any job because I'm desperate.

Oh well.

Off to spend another lovely day in the sunshine before the rain comes!

Summer sun and fun

Today was the first day in 3 weeks that I have enjoyed being unemployed.

I woke to the most beautiful clear blue skies, the sound of birds in the park and I could already feel the warmth in the sun.

Whilst all of my friends departed the house to their dreary offices with only the joy of that 1 hour lunch break to get them through the day, I had a leisurely breakfast, completed all of my job hunting tasks and crossed the road to the park.

I took a sarong to lie on, a pillow from the couch, wireless headphones (connected to the radio back at the house) and my book.

What joy.

There is definitely someone to be said about Vitamin D creating happiness because for the first time in ages I was not depressed today. There hasn't been a single moment where I've wanted to cry and I even found myself smiling whilst doing some food shopping.

I love sun.

Perhaps this is foremost in wanting to move back to Cape Town as I could never see myself settling in a country that only has hot sun for, at most, 4 weeks a year.

And I'm not exaggerating.

The Great British Summer usually lasts about a month. There a couple of months of buildup (April to June) and then a couple of months of cooling off (August to October) with usually 1 month of proper summer.

How depressing is that?

My point though was that today I got to enjoy the sunshine. Tomorrow I will again. And Friday. Then come the weekend in typical London fashion it is going to rain.

My friends are not impressed.

Insanely Jealous would be the right description.

Hey I've got to have something going for me at the moment don't I?

Sharing is caring

I have been noticing in the comments and show of support from readers that there are many others of you out there who have also been hit by unemployment in the past or currently are in the same position as me.

So I thought that I would open my blog up to my readers for you to disclose any amusing moments from your unemployment, any disaster interviews that you've been to or basically just anything you would like to share with us all about your hunt for a new job.

Email me.

Open up.

I need to feel like I am not alone.

Yes, you're right, I am going to guilt trip you in to sharing your stories with me. I'll post them up (and of course a link to you if you let me know who you are) and we can all be one big happy family.

Thedivinemissmm@gmail.com

Let's make unemployment fun!

I'm waiting.

Never trust Google Maps

Today I did my first visit to The Job Centre in order to sign officially on to The Dole.

My appointment was at 1055 with my personal advisor - Advisor Number 2 - So personal she has a number instead of a name.

In great anticipation of meeting with Advisor Number 2 I left the house at 0950, these are the true events that followed.

0952 - Realise it is actually quite cold and go back home to get a jacket

0955 - Depart the house, again

1000 - Arrive at bus stop

1014 - 156 bus arrives, I appear to have timed this well with travel

1030 - Bus arrives at the designated stop according to google maps. I start walking in the planned direction

1040 - Still walking, no sign of the job centre

1041 - Panicked phone call to Lopz, don't know where I am going and everything looks the same. Stupid London.

1042 - Lopz quickly confers with Google Maps, I am in the right area but neither of us understand where exactly the Job Centre is as it is located in the middle of a green patch according to GM.

1043 - Hyperventilating done by myself, can not afford to miss The Dole meeting

1044 - Start walking back in the direction I came from desperately searching for this supposed street name

1048 - Still nothing, Lopz offers to call the Job Centre and solve the mystery

1052 - I ask a chavvy passerby if they can help. What a surprise, the Chav knows where the job centre is. And who says that typecasting is politically incorrect?

1057 - After desperately running down the road I make it in to the Job Centre just behind schedule. Am sent to wait on a couch.

1100 - Chav staring at me. Could it possibly be because I am staring at him?

1101 - Break staring match with chav. Thankful for safety of people in the room. Think he might be mad.

1103 - Girl in pink velour tracksuit walks in. Again, who said that stereotyping was politically incorrect?

1107 - Advisor Number 2 comes to collect me. Her name tag says Babs.

1110 - Babs informs me that I was sent to the wrong Job Centre and that they don't deal with my postcode. Have to repeat the same mission tomorrow morning in Kingston.

1115 - Exit Job Centre and scream

Tomorrow had better be less exciting.

Babs promised me it would be.

1155 - Arrive back home and curl up on the couch to watch Gossip Girls.

Miss M is so angry ... she switched off the TV

So now that I am unemployed I am having to discover all new ways of keeping myself entertained during the day.

Do you know how tedious daytime TV is? I seriously think that they make it so boring in order to stop people wanting to actually be at home. It is a conspiracy to make sure that you want to have a job.

Unemployed person
I can't handle another day of watching daytime chat shows!!! PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME!!! I'll get off the dole, I'll find a job! Just don't make me watch that anymore!!!

I swear that Channel Commissioners must think that the people who stay at home all day are lacking in brain cells. What other excuses could they have for the truly terrible day time line up that there is?

We're talking about shows who cover such in depth topics as below:

You threw a TV ... at my head
My daughter went away ... she came back gay
I'll prove I'm the father of your ex girlfriends baby
Who got her pregnant? Me or the brother?
Who’s my Fiancé been with until five O’clock in the morning?
Celebrity hair trends - The humble plait is back!

I mean who ever would want to leave their house when they have such juicy topics to entertain them each day.

Thankfully I am one of those people who has the magic of Sky Plus. Each night before going to bed I cruise the channels and record anything that looks like it could be interesting to watch the next day during my Day on the Couch.

Thanks be to movie channels.

And old teen angst shows from my youth - such as Party of Five & Gilmore Girls.

Without these I would be lost.

Or learning about how You've broken up my family by sleeping with my two brothers!

God bless the English system

I have decided to bite the bullet and register for Job Seekers Allowance.

Otherwise known as The Dole.

Which would you rather tell people you are collecting?

Job Seekers Allowance - money paid to someone who is currently not working but searching for their next role

OR

The Dole - money (and now I hate to say this as it sounds so judgmental and snobbish but I fear it is true) given to lower class chavvy English people who cheat the system by living on the measly amount paid each week whilst using it for beer & cigarettes, chilling out in their council house and generally wasting the taxpayers money as they are too lazy to work.

Wow that was quite the mouthful.

As judgmental as that little ramble was, the questions that I was asked whilst registering today did little to sway my opinion.

Q: Have you ever had a job?
What 26 year old hasn't ever had a job!?!?

Q: Are you supporting any children?
Fair enough, have you seen the typical English teenager? Usually spotted in their natural environment of the mall whilst pushing a pram

Q: Are you waiting on a court decision for criminal sentencing?
Worries me that these are regular questions where people actually answer yes!

Q: Do you receive any income other than your job?
Like my spare time drug dealing?

Q: Are you able to work fulltime?
Well no, with caring for my 4 young children and my alcoholic 19 year old husband I don't have enough time to actually work. Please can you give me money?

Also the people I see day to day during work hours wandering the streets do nothing to change my opinion either.

Middle age woman drinking out of Stella cans at 1045am, teenagers hanging around street corners drunk at lunchtime and the loads of people chilling around the council estate during work hours.

And it isn't my fault that these people all seem to resemble Chavs is it?

So for all further reference I will be claiming Job Seekers Allowance, along with Housing Benefits so please do not mention the dole to me.

I do still have my dignity.

Though I am willing to drop standards to get my rent paid each month along with 65 pounds a week spending money!

All by myself ...

I love my friends.

I really do love them but sometimes I am just so jealous and envious of them and their serious relationships/marriage that I feel guilty for it.

It isn't that I want to be them or have their lives. I just want the support that they have.

Yes my friends are there for me. They listen to me and offer me their advice and support. They're my family and I wouldn't swap them for anyone. But at the end of the evening I go home.

Alone.

And the fear that I have at the moment doesn't vanish the moment I leave them. In fact as soon as I am by myself it increases tenfold.

And then there is no one there to hold me. There is no one there to wipe away my tears. There is no one there to talk to me until 3am in the morning about what I am going to do.

I'm doing this by myself.

No matter how they all say that they are there for me they just can't relate.

I don't have someone else who can pay rent for the month. If I run out of money there isn't someone else who can buy the weekly groceries and treat me to a drink to cheer me up. MY debt is just that, MY debt, and there isn't someone else there to help me clear it.

I wish I had the support that they have. No one wants a crying Miss M on the phone at midnight and I know that I can't really phone them every single time I am slowly losing it by myself.

I just wish I wasn't alone right now.

First day is over

Today was my first day of unemployment.

After waking up at 0900, looking at my phone and going in to a flat out panic because I'd overslept and was going to be late for work I suddenly realised that I didn't have to go to work and that I had the whole day to sleep.

So I got up.

That was probably my first mistake. In retrospect I should have slept till 1pm, had lunch and then gone back to sleep because that would have been more eventful than my day was.

0930 - Ate breakfast

0940 - Watched an episode of One Tree Hill

1025 - Watched another episode of One Tree Hill

1115 - Old Housemate came around (he is job hunting too) and we reworked my CV and cleaned up on my Powerpoint skills

1315 - Ate lunch

1345 - Watched another episode of One Tree Hill

And so on.

The day stretched in to a whole long day of nothingness with me just staring at my computer screen willing a new job to appear.

It is strange how you can waste away 10 hours until your housemates arrive home and then waste another 4 hours until it is time to go to sleep again.

Tomorrow I am going to go meet with a recruitment agent and beg her for a job. If tears work I will try it, if promising sexual favours works I will try it and if handing over my first born works I will try that too!

This is my pledge to you!

Oh and I probably will watch some One Tree Hill cause you knows I am all over that shit!

Is the end the beginning?

Tomorrow is my last day at my current job. I've been there 1 month short of 2 years and probably have spent more time in the office than my own home overall. It is going to be so strange to not be getting up in the morning, leaving the house, taking the train in to London and walking over to my office with the wonderful view of The South Bank.

Extremely depressing now that summer is inching its way in to London and the view is getting more and more beautiful everyday.

I'll be honest with you.

I. Am. Completely. Terrified.

Other than when I first moved over to London I have not been unemployed in 4 years. I have not been unemployed when there was not even the faintest hint of a job in the air.

I don't know what to do.

I can survive for 1 month without a job but if I don't find one to start on the 1st of May I literally can not pay rent for June. Add to that the fact that unless I find a job in a week or 2 I can't afford to go to Croatia with my friends. That makes me just want to cry.

I'm 26 but right now all I want is the safety of home and my Mother.

It might make it less scary.

This is war

We have a guest staying in our house. She is very quiet and she doesn't bother us much as she is mostly active at night but she does have a problem with going to the toilet around the kitchen.

She is a mouse and I have named her Tinkerbell (no idea if she is female but I feel better this way)

We don't see her much, just every so often, but occasionally I find her droppings in the cupboard under the sink and I sometimes hear her in, what I think, is the ceiling.

The other day my housemate saw her in the bathroom upstairs. I genuinely do not know who got more of a fright, him or the mouse, but after a surprisingly girly shriek he came to let me know.

That was the end of it.

Lying in bed all I could think was that Tinkerbell was in my room (it is next to the bathroom) and every sound was her creeping up in to my bed and every itch on my body was her running over me.

I'm not sure if it was the idea of a mouse touching me or just the general shock of the idea of someone (thing) being in my bed as it has been so long but whatever it was I have now declared a personal vendetta against Tinkerbell.

We are starting with humane traps and if those don't work we are moving on to poison.

But by these words I swear that this will be the end of Tinkerbell freeloading in my house. She should not have crossed the boundary.

Now it is war.