The Thing About Living With An Artist

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The other day I found myself in a warm and full bath, fully clothed, with some milk and flour mixed in.
I am a twenty year old who sat in a bath, that was basically cake ingredients.
I felt like Cruella de Vill when she got turned into a giant cake.

This is basically because I live with an artist, and my literal dunk into confectionery was in the name of photography.

This isn't the first odd thing I have been asked to do.

We Used To Be Friends, Now You Suck At Hate Mail

Friends right?
If they aren't right for you, it won't last. I know I write about my opinion quite a bit. but I don't always write about my personal life, so why not.
So I was once great friends with this girl. I stayed at her house every other weekend and we had music in common, and I turned to her when a lot of problems started up in my personal life.
We went around for days out and stuff and for a while I thought 'woah, she's so real. We know the truth, we're smart'. And for a while there she really inspired me in my writings, although upon reflection of what I wrote at the time, I feel as if I predicted our ending.

Good band, just kept me depressed when I had them on loop

You see, we're not friends anymore.
In fact she's admitted that she's wanted to rip me apart.

A year on from not speaking to her, and a year on from immigration and making new friends across the Irish Sea, I think that I've finally found true happiness.
When we were friends we listened to Nirvana a lot and felt that the world is a horrible dark place, and that we always needed eyeliner and converse. That every other person was fake and that people sucked. At the time I thought I was being mature and clever. Looking back, I was a fucking eejit dresses in black. Although I do tend to still dress in black.

While I feel free from this, I think I may have reinforced it for her. And in a way it's one of the things that have made me feel bad. But I remedy this with these thoughts:

1/  I shouldn't feel guilt for doing something that has made me happy. I shouldn't have to live in sadness, especially when she would have remained just as pessimistic anyway. Sometimes in life when we make decisions there will always be the people that think we've made the wrong choice, while there is also simultaneously those who think that we did the correct thing. I like the fact that I did what I did to make her hate me,  and I can't regret that, because it's opened doors for me. I'm now and on the path to a BA in Psychology, and my mind has been opened and expanded through sociological and theological conversation, which I never got at home, or with her for that matter.

2/ I've become mentally stable and happy. When we were friends all we did was wear jeans, eyeliner, listen to Nirvana and discuss how people are shit. A year away from this and I wear dresses, skirts, heels, lipstick, and I can happily listen to some pop or rap and not get judged for it. I feel less judged. Life has become a breath of fresh air.
Back when we were friends, I didn't talk to the other girls in my class. And I found it increasingly difficult to trust people. Now, for the first time in my life, I have a group of friends I can always text, make plans with and meet up with for lunch. I never had that in school before, so it's kinda sad that I only started having this in college. Granted, I still have trust issues, but I'm working on it.

We even have a Central Perk by our college and our own couches.

You see this falling out spawned from the fact that I said I couldn't live with her in England, when we moved for college. I believe that if I had actually gone through with it, I'd be in prison now for attempted murder or battery at the very least.
It had immediately been assumed that we would live together, and I have always been the little mouse who had trouble saying no, so I played along, which I admit is wrong, and I shouldn't have done that. My living plans had already been made and I found it difficult to say it.
Luckily, months before I finally left, I told the truth and said that I couldn't live with her in England, which resulted in her not being allowed to go to England.

I still immigrated and went to college, while she stayed in Ireland with no college, or job to fall back on.

David Bowie during his Ziggy Stardust era

I am glad that I told her months in advance. It makes me feel better as it would have given her enough time to plan something, but nothing materialized. She just sat around and wrote David Bowie lyrics on her bedroom wall.

I don't mean to sound like a bitch here, I just need to be blunt, but I do not miss the friendship. I don't miss being told I looked stupid, I don't miss being told that I couldn't do something right. And I don't miss the fact that most conversation revolved around bitching, or musicians who committed suicide 20 years ago. There was no nurturing or sensitivity there. I was demeaned and made to feel little for someone else's enjoyment. Whenever she had a problem, I listened, but whenever I had a problem it was just 'shut up, you always go on about this'.

In fact if I have any regrets, it's buying her a tenner's worth of cigarettes on the last day I saw her.

If I had never met her, I may not have survived, or I wouldn't have felt as depressed as I did back then, and I may have actually made friends with most of my class in school, had a normal social life, maybe had had a boyfriend and done normal teenage things.

It makes me feel like a weirdo now, in some ways. I'm the second eldest in my current friend group, yet most of the group has experience with being in a relationship. But I know that I don't need it, at the end of the day. I can be such a mess some-days as a single person, that I'd never want to drag someone else down with me. I already feel sorry for my first real boyfriend.

The girl, that this post is about, may think that I'm a bitch, but I'm not that much of a bitch. I'd never purposefully drag some poor guy down with me intentionally, if I had a bad day.

From her point of view, I know how hard it had been for her. But I'd had my back up plan, and she should have too. I know it's easy to now say that such and such should have been done, but I really did try to stay her friend. She's the one who cut contact, not me. I really tried, which is sorta why I got her ciggys in the first place.

But overall, I feel sorry for her. I really pity her.
I pity the fact that she thinks about me a year later.
I pity the fact that she feels compelled to find me on Tumblr.
I pity the fact that she needs to send me anons at 3pm on a Saturday because she has nothing else to do.
And I pity the fact that she will only ever watch Friends on TV, but never really experience the Friends-esque lifestyle that I do.

Yes, I lost one person, but I've gained so much more, both literally and mentally. When I go home to Ireland, I've got people who will try to go out of their way to see me, and when I return to England I've got friends that I can text all through the night. And it's these people that I truly can't live without, no matter what happens.

So, if you are reading this, you can do whatever the fuck you want. You want to get married at 18 to a guy you've met once? Go ahead, I've got nothing to say. I'm not jealous. I'm not angry. I'm not phased. You always said you didn't believe in it, but if you really want to, go ahead, whether it be because you really like him, or you want a Green Card.
I've got a good life going for myself. I've got work in the morning, then two days of exams, a day of drinking, and I get a tattoo next week, followed by a concert. I'm doing really great.

If anyone wants to talk about their own issues feel free to email me. 
I always enjoy comments or responses.

As is usually the case, pictures aren't mine and are the property of their rightful owners.

Unemployment Pains

Seeing as the title of this blog is called the 'Inner Dialogue and Ramblings of an Irish Immigrant', I feel it is time to discuss the pains of actually being an immigrant. I may touch on this later, in fact I can tell you about culture clashes, home sickness, learning that Matalan does NOT sell beds, among other things. But I think I may begin with the biggy.

And that is, of course, employment.

This is something that I still lack. It's a big reason for the mass immigration of Irish citizens within the past few years, and has reached high numbers that haven't been seen since the last recession of the 1980's. I've applied to numerous jobs within Liverpool, even going across the water in search of jobs on the Wirral and I've still had no luck whatsoever. I mean, I have a little bit of experience, I now know my general surroundings and understand the trains. I'm not calling that my experience by the way, I know how to take messages and I can do hands-on work. So its a bit of a bummer that the moment I'm finally settled to work, no one will take me on. The Christmas Rush has been and gone people! I need money! Don't you need people for the New Years Sales?!

This college student is in desperate need of funds! I may not drink it all! I may actually want to get a plane home for the holidays or buy a new pair of boots because I've fucked up my Doc Martins (which I still can't figure out how I did that).  Better yet, maybe I actually want to be able to buy people presents, in YOUR shop, where I want to work! I'll take Part Time, or one day a week if that's all that I can get! I'll take anything at this stage!

When I was a kid I thought : I'm gonna grow up, get one of those fur coats like the cool girls, get a job, do exams, live in my own flat, make friends and so on. I actually thought that I'd move to Waterford city and share my flat with some girls I'd grown up with.

Now I'm grown up, forced to immigrate to England, and on my own, I have no umbrella, just broken boots. I'm not one of the cool girls, barely passed exams, unemployed and I live with my best mates family. In fact all I did was make friends. I'm not complaining, in fact it's nice having friends to complain to.

With these stories from home emerging about these water charges, it makes me want to get work even more.

They say that I don't have enough experience? Well how am I meant to get it unless you give me a chance and hire me?

At this stage, I'm looking into volunteer work, so at least that way I can say that I am trained on a cash register, and it would look good on a University Application, so in a way I'm killing two birds with one stone. So far I've gotten some part time experience at a charity shop for Meals on Wheels, which not only makes me feel like a silent protester, or invisible Samaritan, but will benefit all those involved. The women there are lovely, all older than me, but lovely all the same.

This year I will be entering into my twenties, and I hope to do so with an actual job. Hopefully entry into University and employment. It's why I immigrated after all.

I recently went back to Ireland over Christmas and saw that while parts of the country was healing, other problems have just been growing worse. While I was in Dublin trying to get to the airport, I saw a lot of homeless people outside on the footpaths in the cold.
I may write an article on this in the future, but for now it will just be an idea in my head.
I may even do a countdown of the biggest trends in 2014.

Thank you for reading this, comments are welcome below! I'd love to hear from people in the same situation

Wrong First Impressions?

So with work, college and routine back, we are once again struggling with that yearly problem. No I'm not talking about getting out of bed in the morning, but it's just as bad.
It's the fear of making friends.
You know the one I'm talking about. The one where you worry about ending up alone for the rest of the year because the girl at the end of the room looked at you funny, or because that guy from earlier didn't notice when you purposely laughed too loudly.
Out of interest, have any of you ever taken the time to ask one of your friends their first impressions of you? Recently, one of my friends admitted to me that she thought I wouldn't like her because I seemed 'stuck up my own arse'. Now we share innuendos and flirt with each other for a laugh, even though we are both straight and one of us has a boyfriend (it's not me, sadly).
I got thinking after she said this, and I remembered how a guy in my old school had told a girl that he had never befriended her earlier because he was terrified that she would kill him, she just so happened to look that vicious and angry all the time, he was put off.
In reality, she was a lovely girl that I had a lot in common with. She didn't have a criminal record or any bad behaviour in her school files.
But then I got to the inevitable question of, why?
Why did I seem so snobby?
I was a culchie from a field in Ireland. I didn't come from a city like everyone! I came from an agriculturally based village. I didn't go to Top Shop or River Island. My mother sewed up old clothes and I hardly ever went shopping, unless it was down the road for a can of coke!
So I reflected on what I was doing when I first crossed paths with this girl, on the day of my first ever class of Sociology. What with it being a new country, and a new learning environment, I was also afraid about culture clashes and my impression with everyone else. I was so consumed with this fear that I started wearing red lipstick, curling my hair and trying to seem a little bit more...me. More than the girl that came from the middle of nowhere, and more than the girl that lived in jeans and band shirts.

I was also sitting at the other end of the room and trying to make friends with a guy, who I totally ended up falling out with anyway, so I kinda don't blame her for thinking I was some sort of pretentious bitch.
They say that the first impression happens within one tenth of a second. Which is pretty scary. But if this has taught me anything, its that first impressions are best when you look like shit, or you're wearing your oldest clothes with no make up.
Admittedly, both myself and this friend both wear light make up and occasionally dress up, but in the year we've been besties, we've both turned up in shirts going from Jurassic Park, to Ghostbusters. We are total dorks that wink at each other  and act stupid. Which is nothing that you'd expect from me a year ago if you were to see me, with red lipstick, curly hair and my best black coat, asking questions and arguing sociological problems.
Do any of you have any stories about first impressions?
Any of your friends say that they were terrified of you or found you intimidating in any way?
I'd love to hear from you in the comments.

Also, my follow up post on What's Wrong With Feminism shouldn't take too long. Sorry for that delay. I saw how much you all enjoyed it.

And another thing, you may want to keep an eye out on the blog if you watch Sons of Anarchy, I may end up writing about it, now that the final season has started, and you know how much I like me some Courtney Love.

As usual, I don't own the picture and get nothing out of it except a nice bit of colour on my page.

Manipulative Feminism to Beat the Cheeky Patriarchs.

Manipulative Feminism to Beat the Cheeky Patriarchs.

Firstly, welcome to the blog and my first ever post.
In case you don't know, I'm a college gal in England. I was raised in a village in the middle of nowhere and busy Liverpool has been a huge culture shock for me. While all of the girls (or most) shop in River Island or Top Shop, I revert to Primark and secondhand shops. But don't  go thinking that I'm a country bumpkin though, if anything I'm a harsh little leprechaun that swears like a sailor.
But don't worry, this information is relevent...okay maybe not the swearing bit.

Now. That's all sorted.

Today began too early for me. I had to be in Liverpool for 9am, was told I had a test first thing, and ended my 9-4 day with Math and History. On the way out of college, I had to go to the desk to collect this terms Train Pass, and in doing so I was pushed to the back of the line, by a guy and his friends.
I'm a Feminist, but I'm not a radical one. If it had been a group of girls that had done it, I'd be just as equally pissed. But when it happened, I was so angry that I wondered what I could of done to have changed the outcome of that scenario, and I reached the conclusion that if I had worn make up, smiled and perhaps even wore a dress (even though I wore one yesterday) these guys would have left me in my original space.

I was also reminded of a piece of advice my mother gave me when I was a child, when she was driving us home from a day of shopping. She had been trying to pull the car out and needed a fellow driver to let her out, in order to follow a line of cars, and it had been a male driver to let her pass, to which she jokingly said to me "When you drive, make sure to catch the eye of a nice male driver".

Perhaps, if I go against my own lazy morals, and dress up more often and put more effort into my appearance, people will be nicer towards me, or leave me be, instead of push me to the back of the queue. I've been dolled up before and had random passers-by smile (and I admit it's a confidence booster). Also, I refuse to believe that women should go against their own morals for a man, but if I were to do this, I'm in control. I'm getting something out of it, it may not be a full respect and I may be objectified, but I may feel like Marilyn Monroe. People found her to be dim-witted and stupid, yet she was a certified genius that always read, and rarely read fiction at that. She revolutionized feminism in film (pushing the boundaries when it came to wearing clothes on screen) and was also a huge supporter of equal rights.



The only thing that holds me back, is the fact that I'm lazy and would have to wake up at the crack of dawn to apply cheap make up to my face in order to manipulate people, be they women or cheaky men who think they can do what they want, like cheat and skip queues.

I don't want to be one of the girls that starve themselves to pay for Top Shop designer clothes and gets spots because my pores become clogged with make up. I like cheap, outdated, vintage clothing and I like stuffing my face, and even though I may change and put more effort into my appearance and look in the mirror and see myself as being a bit heavy in places, the rest of me will never change. I will forever be the blogging, procrastinating slob that I've always been. After all, it's get my eyebrows done or read fanfiction. And I think we both know which one will win out at this stage.

And the best part, these strangers don't even know they've been mentioned in a blog....plus I didn't miss my train.

xx

I do not own photographers used in this post and all credit and copyright rights goes towards respected photographers and companies.