June Afternoon

It's sad that the wondrous Marie Fredriksson has passed away.  For me the first half of the nineties was often soundtracked by Roxette's songs.  It Must Have Been Love would belt out from my parent's first CD player.  And my mother's mouth.  The Look made any activity feel much sassier.  And Almost Unreal (my favourite) always reminds me of my first visit to the cinema on the Dublin Road*.

Yet for nearly every day of this month we can justify June Afternoon.  A song from a time when all seemed possible.  Naturally I fall into nostalgic sways concerning the 90s.  Not least for June; the month that goes on forever at school as pupils anticipate the long summer ahead.  Now because I don't get a large summer holiday; I somewhat extend the vibes into June.  I aimed to get onto doing summery items this week.  Heading to the cinema for blockbusters.  Walks in the park.  Attending gigs.  Playing pool with friends.  Coffee catch-ups.  Day trips to small Northern Irish towns.

And all this I intended to do in the first week of June.  There was coffee with a group I've been meaning to meet with.  A 'Woman's Work' gig is being played at the Oh Yeah! Music Centre in Belfast tonight.  Featuring a couple of friends who are flaunting their oh so good musical talents.  And I even planned a popping to the Strand Cinema in East Belfast.  A cinema at where I always end up in Screen 4.

Yet a positive COVID-test in the household has halted that.  Not me.  I'm perfectly fine.  No symptoms.  So far.  But after all that's gone on in the past two years; and knowing my own ethics; I can't in good conscious head out to various scenarios.  Not to mention that my father is being sent to England this upcoming week for medical procedures.  I don't wish to be responsible for bringing COVID home; stalling his chances of getting the attention he needs.

Tomorrow I should be able to take a test.  If negative, I should be fine with a couple of outdoor activities.  But for today; this June afternoon; I have scones and Alan Cumming's autobiography Stories From A Packed Life.  And tonight I shall carry on with various Pride themed films.  This Pride Month shall have more rainbows about.  I wish I was braver at times speaking about my feelings and being open to those I know will be disapproving.  After so many years of trying to be approved by others; these others have completely shown they have no interest in me.  So why should I be concerned how others see me?  Maybe I'm still learning.  Maybe I'm still aware that I live with my parents.  And maybe I still feel I'm that nineteen year old with the rest of his life ahead of him...and that I need to tread carefully.

But I'm ten times braver now than I was back then.  I don't hide the books I read or movies I watch.  Even if they are LGBTQIA+ related or not.  I no longer feel that air of judgement from others when it comes to me enjoying anything artistic.  For years I would go along with certain opinions just because it would make me feel safer.  And again, a lot of those people are no longer in my life.

As Marie Fredriksson herself would say, "Listen to your heart."

Swedish pop stars are rarely wrong.

*Super Mario Bros.  The Tom and Jerry Movie had stopped its run.  But as a seven year old, Super Mario Bros. was a joy.  I wish Bob Hoskins knew that his pain delivered some pleasure.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year (?)

Loved ones gather around their tree of colourful flags.

Drinks are held up to toast others from different cultures.

Acceptance and toleration toward others will bloom within the hearts of many.

Maybe Eurovision is the most wonderful time of year.

It may make those in Britain maybe re-question the whole Brexit decision.  I'm well aware Brexit has no bearing on Eurovision.  But the latter may induce a string of memory; of what Britain was connected to.  And the mess that it has caused.  Particularly in Northern Ireland.  Particularly this week.  You only have to type in, 'DUP' into Google to see what nonsense they're causing.  I'm just glad I've never voted for them.  Nor will I ever do.

But for today there's a sprinkling of joy.  Right now I have 2020's Eurovision album playing; the year we didn't get a full show.  Well, we got Netflix's Eurovision: The Story of Fire Saga.  Which I admit is brilliant.  I have a pasta recipe to try out.  There were many Italian influenced recipes I was leaning towards.

None of them include Damiano David; regardless of how delicious a dish he is.

It's been three weeks since I started my new job.  This coming week I must strive to start walking more.  Working from home has various cost-saving advantages that the lockdown had.  No transport is needed.  No money is required each day to fork out for lunch from a nearby outlet.  It does mean I have to be organised.  I need to build a better routine to start walking more.  The weight I put on during lockdown was passable.  Now I'm noticing that it's creeping up on me.  And today, as I ran about the various stores of Belfast, I found myself puffing like a smoker.

And the weather in Belfast has been kind.  My dermatitis has benefitted from a few sun rays (everything in moderation kids).  Moods have been lifted.  Reading caught up in the quiet of my parent's back-garden.  So I'm not sure what my excuse is.  Possibly giving into comfort too much.

Which leads me on to think more about what I'm to do this year.  I've spent so much time in the past two and a half years making the best of it.  A comfortable setting when we weren't allowed to mingle.  It's possible my mind and body have become all too adapted to it.  That's maybe why I didn't take the in-person customer service job at a well-known soap store.  Being in a location other than my own bedroom?  I may have become too much of a recluse.  At least in my chosen work, I have a comfortable setting within my own control.

But once this summer is over I will need to make a decision.  To try something / somewhere new.  I'm worth more than I've been led to believe by various toxic folk.  So why not?  It's up to me to make this life a lot more full of texture.  Things will happen.  Good and bad.  And I'm starting to learn that for now, I'd rather those occur than nothing.

I may eat my words at that however.

Yet for tonight's Eurovision events and the coming summer; a little 'nothing time' is what I need to spur me into an adventurous spirit.

End of Summer (A re-used title no doubt)

The average life expectancy in the UK is just over eighty-one years old.

Well that means if we split it up into seasons, we could consider the final quater of those the 'Winter Years'.  And with me turning thirty-six at the end of this August; it means my 'Summer Years' are nearing their end.

This is not a complaint about getting older.  Nor am I dipping into the powerful drug of Nostalgia.  Instead I'm applying this to my current situation.

Since last week I have attended a trial shift at a well-known soap store.  Before being offered a job at well-known soap store.  Yet in-between this, I was offered a job at another company.  And while the pay wasn't particularly greater; the set-up may work to my current period in life.  Better than the well-known soap store.

Within the thirty minutes at the well-known soap store trial shift; I found myself circling.  To engage with customers.  To let them know I was there.  To help demonstrate all the products.  And maybe this was part of the issue.  At my previous job, my presence was always noted.  I'd be the most approachable of persons.  Even to the point where some customers would mistake me for manager.  I had been there so long I suppose my comfort in the surroundings lent me a degree of confidence.  As such customers would gravitate towards me to help solve more complex issues.  Something to be proud of.  I can be a reliable source of information and flexible in problem solving.  Even rereading that line makes me realise how much I've been focusing on CV writing of late.

The well-known soap store's employee basis all seemed in the mid to early twenties.  Again this is not a complaint.  What I've discovered however is that my priorities are dramatically different.  I have no real need to socialise with my co-workers.  Heck I've spent the majority of the last five years trying to seek a life AWAY from work.

So it was with a hint of sorrow that I had to decline the offer at the well-known soap store.  Have I done the right thing?  I'll let you know at the end of August.

The true end of summer.

On the notions of sunlit evening skies ending; I'm having to relearn another lesson.

Letting go.

Back in 2009 I had the worst summer break imaginable.  After an incredibly sorrowful and heartbreaking year at University; I got home to my siblings who fell out with me and my part-time job that was horribly mundane.  Add that with constant reminders of how other's lives seemed better; I was in disbelief how everything had just turned against me.  And all I felt I was doing was trying to assert my place in the world.  (In hindsight this probably ruffled feathers because I was considered to already be put in my place due to how others saw fit.  And that's even more horrible.)  The only things that kept me going that summer was the inevitable return to Leicester for my final year at University.  And my friends Claire and Natasha.  Naturally we spent as much time at the cinema as we could.  The sun may have been shining but our pale skin wanted to soak in celluloid.

When the first lockdown hit in 2020, I was placed on furlough.  For over four full months I had the finances and excuse to enjoy time alone.  The weather was pleasant.  My book collection was ready.  Many DVDs that my parents had bought over the years were consulted.  This is exactly how I would have spent a frugal summer as a teenager.

The first lockdown was the summer I never had.  So when the second Autumn lockdown came along I felt prepared for it.  And when the third winter lockdown started; I knew I'd be fine.  Although the latter was difficult.  The novelty of free time had disappeared.  And trying to read heavy volumes one after the other became a task when the weather was so grim.  I needed bright cartoons and soup to see me through.

Yet since the beginning of March 2020, I have only been in work for around forty-five weeks.  I have gotten used to free time all too easily over this period.  And I have to admit that my accepting of this new job has been difficult.  Initially I've been nervous.  Scared that I may have chosen the wrong role.  Concerned I may be giving up my soul too easily for a monthly pay.  And unsure if I have what it takes to carry on.

"You look like your soul is crushed," said my friend Ciatriona.  We were sitting in Belfast's new cosy bar; The Reporter, found on Union Street.  Scented candle-light between us.  The two of us have been living with our parents.  And together we discovered the niggling things they can say that try to sway us into work all too quickly.  We agreed that it comes from a good place.  Yet within ourselves, youth maybe wants to strike the balance of security and potential.  But it also fears that if we select one, the other will be out of reach.  I know there will be those who also debate that if you don't choose one; it'll be chosen for you.  And that can be even worse.

The point I'm trying to make here is that I'm sensing my own End of Summer.  In the next few days I may be able to translate it in my own head towards excitement and the beginning of a new chapter.  Yet because I've had such an extended summer; I am simply scared that it has to end.

On the plus side; I've also carried lessons from my previous jobs to bring with me.  These include (and are not limited to) making sure I don't invest my entire being into this role.  It's great that I'm getting into employment; it does not mean I'm getting into a rut.  And I can change things.  If I find I'm not happy I can change things.  Not just make the best of things; that only works so far.  No; an active shifting of my surroundings, the people I draw attitudes from and, by extension, a whole lookout; none of these should be set in stone.

The Long Good...Saturday

The bottleneck of job applications was about to pop this week.  So I was grateful for the various interviews that took place.  Even if I wasn't so savvy in avoiding mistakes during them.

Ultimately I had hoped to start looking for jobs in May.  But if I started looking at the beginning of April; there was a stronger likelihood of beginning work for the former.  As it takes around four to eight weeks to find a job.  According to various (London based) articles I had read throughout the internet.  I realise that sounds like a made-up statistic.  But if one uses their head, I do see that timeline make sense.

With yesterday's Good Friday marking the last six weeks of Spring; it's apt that I refer to this time as 'Spring Part. 2'.  Even if I end up sleeping in on these days, I should be able to get up and make something of the day.  And with the waiting in jobs to get back to me; I have a bigger spur in confidence that I'll soon be in employment again.  Call Centres may become an option.  Yet they are the FINAL option.  Too many warnings and cautionary tales have been told to me about them.  My soul and mental health are far more important than making a quick buck.

Soon I'll be heading to Forestside Shopping Centre; in the hope to find discounted pizza and remaining Easter eggs.  For tonight I may dive into the Coen Brothers' catalogue as there's a few titles I've not seen.  Writing at 5am has taken a dive.  Because I sense the end of my free time, I am relishing every moment my duvet lets me cling to it.

Currently listening to vacuuming outside my bedroom door.  And Mark Kermode's show on Scala Radio.  The most eclectic range of movie soundtracks I can find.  Even more so than BBCRadio3's Sound of Cinema.  Although the latter is a Thomas Newman special today.  And I adore those sleepy piano scores he's tinkers on.  For American Beauty, WALL-E, Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events...he is a subtle wonder.

I foresee an eventful week ahead.  Already I've been asked to attend a trial shift at a prominent soap store chain.  There are many movies to catch up on.  And the pasta recipes circling my head are easy to the point where my dopamine flares up once the dish is served.  Achievements are important in life.  But they don't always have to be difficult ones.

I could even treat myself to alcohol-free beer.  But then the sugar levels in the chocolate eggs may be more than my body can handle.  The other night my dad said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're not young anymore."  He's kind of right.  So as long as I'm good to myself.  Both in pleasure and preservation; I should be all right.

The Show is Going on.

Within the past two days I've accomplished a lot.  And not putting down a rigid schedule has been part of the reason.  In the past I felt I had to place down an active life just to ward off people who made me feel complacent.  Now I just have to say, "No," if I don't want to.  However I have found I am genuinely busy these days.  Even for someone who is unemployed.

Speaking of which; I have been applying for jobs.  Two of which have been offered.  Yet I turned them down.  Both were impractical.  I could have been working in the dead of night.  And it's two hours away.  Belfast doesn't have the infrastructure to help transport people to and from this desolate area.

I have not lost heart yet.  If anything the beginning of April has spurred me on to continue looking.  To be more myself.  To not worry about those who moan or wish to create drama.  So many people had their chance with me; and I've put myself down long enough to believe that I had to fight for a place in their lives.

I have myself.

And a huge book collection.

And my own writings to carry on.

I'm alone.  But never lonely.

But I do need to get walking again.  I'm getting out of bed.  Although not always at a reasonable time.  I've had eight weeks were I've not been working.  And similar to lockdown times; my activity is restricted to the household.  Which is a shame considering I have a beautiful park only fifteen minutes away from me.  I can venture further.  Slipping into Botanic Gardens.  Even walking there and its neighbouring street bring back memories of a Belfast in the 90s.  Where students were just trying to have a night at the cinema and local pubs whilst the rest of the city tore itself apart.

At the same time I'm not being hard on myself.  I've done that for too long.  Sometimes I sense others wish me to continue doing so.  I need to be hard at work when it matters, not hard on myself when it doesn't.

Last night I watched Disney+'s Better Nate Than Never.  I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it.  It felt like a Disney Channel Movie but with a clearer agenda.  And production value.  In my experience Disney Channel movies of yesterday (with the exception of High School Musical - the clue is in the title) are ninety minutes of sassy teenagers being given crowbarred-in songs and annoying villains.  This one had a young boy who has an unrivaled love for musical theatre.  He has occasional dreams that take place in a Broadway set.  And it was here I felt that this was't a cost-cutting measure in the way his dreams were being played out; it was a deliberate choice to stick him on a colourful cardboard set.  I was fully charmed by this film.  There were a few digs at the acting profession which I found very funny.  Maybe because of my own experience with dramatic types these jokes felt very accurate.  And it was great to see Lisa Kudrow.  I'm not sure I get to make that 'squee' moment over her considering I detest Friends.  But she was part of Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion and The Opposite of Sex; two blisteringly funny (and sometimes nasty) comedies of the late nineties.  Along with Feel Good she is solidifying her role for LGBTQ+ material.

Today is Saturday.  And as such I have sent one application off, written this blog entry and am about to meet a friend for coffee.  Tonight I will have cheap pizza and a remote control with plenty of options.  None of which I'm scheduling.  I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.