Sunday, 14 March 2010


OK so money is trickling in slowly - one Standing Order has already bounced. How embarrasing that I'll have to send a chq for my big £14 to my Opticians cos the SO failed as I only had £5.96 in my my bank will charge me £30 for the privilege of bouncing it! Sick or WHAT?

So I've just had a bill for £280 for winter's electricity. Bricking it :-(

Monday, 8 March 2010

My International Women's Day=Melancholy Day for me

Why is it when you get back from holiday you feel like crap? I should be thanking my lucky stars that I haven't had to start eating my own cat's Wild Ocean Fish-flavoured Iams for sustinence cos I've finally managed to get some work trickling in to buy food again. My face is like crap - full of spots. My mates who I saw at the weekend said it's a combination of stress, alongside way too much alcohol and not enough water. So this afternoon, after I've popped out and done me chores, I'm hitting the bottle of Buxton.

I had to chase a supplier for payment - they paid over 2 weeks late - but they're a charity so can't knock em. Shame though cos it makes me wary about working with charities again. And makes me feel bad that in feeling that, I am not sympathetic or appreciative about that charity's achievements. Just cos they don't have much cash shouldn't mean their systems should be sh*t right?!?

So I'm beginning to think that Him Upstairs was punishing me by making me eat dirt and get proper depressed so I would appreciate the work more when it eventually rolled in. The two weeks have been hectic with 3 paying jobs, and the next 2 weeks I've got another 3 paying jobs - all corporate TV stuff ( no more broadcast just yet) which will bring me in about £3,500. Great, you say but it's modest cos that ain't coming in every day or every week, it's intermittent. So makes up for the fact I earned BIG FAT ZERO for January and February this year. I'm very happy that those 2 dreadful months have been consigned to the trash forever cos I never want to scrounge again.

So today is melancholy. Glad I've got work, but feeling very down about something. I feel the need to be recognised for what I do, but there are other people shouting louder than me all day every day. What should I do?

Monday, 1 March 2010


Every heard of Archangel Gabriel - well look him up. He brought me a chink of light today - I went for a casting for a job - I was the only local person who bothered to turn up to see the producers of a corporate video! I read a bit of script for them and 2 hours later they emailed to say I'd be perfect for the job and they want to hire me.

Ups and downs - had a few - 'oh we're weighing you up against 3 other people and we'll let you know' kind of calls but nothing firm. I'm chasing a £250 cheque that's overdue for payment too! While last week I went down to having a grand total of £2.30 in my bank account. No, REALLY! £2.50

And I got a parking ticket last week - I genuinely thought it was free to park :-(

Things seem to be looking up
Praise be to GOD.

Friday, 19 February 2010


The red wine is a-warming, my king-size, half-price, saturated-fat filled, fresh (yes, FRESH, my people) supermarket Pepperoni Pizza is a-waiting, the oven is a-heating up. Yes, folks Friday night is here. It's also 'Home Alone' time, which means drowning me sorrows time.  If there's one good reason why I KNOW I'll never make it back onto primetime telly is cos I'm 'FAT' (in TV circles anyway) I'm not a Size 6, 8, 10, 12 or 14. So in fact, I'm ENORMOUS,. Couple that with being 'dark-skinned' and not even vaguely 'exotic' looking and it's clear that my career is washed up.

Yes I know the wine and the pizza doesn't exactly help but it's all comfort food, innit? Shout me down if you like but I've done the whole 'Hire a Personal Trainer and eat lettuce leaves until your stomach wants to have you arrested for severe neglect' thing.... and it AINT pretty, OK? Just leaves you gagging for a flipping KFC after every training session. And there's one on every flipping street corner so there's NO chance.

I got offered some holiday cover work today - could be one shift a month, then it could be 4 double-shifts in a week....I wont hold my breath but it's also nice to hear that my skills & experience are valued and that they did want to use me....

Beggars, eh?

Wednesday, 17 February 2010


I'm so desperate, I wasted money on one of my old demons. I got that rush again. Of betting and imagining what I was going to do with the winnings before I'd even played the game. Sh*t really. £50 down the pan that I could have spent on food. I'm such a loser.

PS If you hate the self-pity, then go find yourself another blog to read


I'm liking my drink too much. I guess the cheap price of booze, having a brilliant offie with a dangerous selection of smooth, deep New World reds 5 mins up the road away, being out of work and being depressed are a lethal combination. Not even feeling poorly stops me. No wonder my skin#s f***ed.

I been musing about going to see the doctors. I can hear the conversation now

Doc - So what seems to be the problem?
Me - My skin has been having a constant outbreak of spots for the last 3 months
Doc - Are you under any stress at all
Me - Well I just paid the Tax Man my life savings, I'm broke as f*ck and there's no sign of any meaningful, regular work on the horizon
Doc - Ahh, I see. Have you changed your diet or skin care regime lately?
Me - Well if you mean, have I been stuffing more satured fatty foods down my neck, not exercising and downing my weekly allowance of alcholic units every night solid for the last 3 months - then NO not really
Doc - Ok well here's a prescription for enough Tamezpan to fry your brains for 6 months - in the unlikely event you want to get a repeat prescription, speak to the General Medical Council. Goodbye.

You get the picture :-/
I'm talking to God much more now - I'm hoping he can help me out.

Broke as f***

It's been a while. I've been ill. Not just sick of being out of work but physically sick. In fact someone is trying to strangle me. Nope, NOT paranoid delusions, just the cold I've got is all up in my head and is constricting my throat. Fed up.

I got an interview with a college to do some part-time hours of lecturing. Left my sick bed, travelled the 60 or so miles (am I obsessed with mileage? maybe I am) to the job interview, had to do a fake teaching session (!) and interview in front of 3 men. Got home and promptly threw up cos the cold licked my chest so hard, I took to my bed the whole night.

So they offered me the job today - they gotta check I dont mess around with kids, and to this day I dont know how many hours they will need me to do, how much they will pay me. Do I sound ungrateful? I was desperate when I applied  - no change since but I'm disappointed cos I'm not dead yet. Teaching is what i thought I might be doing once I'd had a couple of kids, say 6 years down the line. Not NOW when I'm in my media prime. But desperation wins. Hands down.

That guy from the radio job never returned my calls - WTF is going on in this world. Is it wise to drive 250 miles for £350? Not bad, is it really - doing that next week for a little job, praise the almighty lord.

I applied for 4 other jobs as well  - all of them at least 100 miles away from my home.

I got a killer programme idea though - just gotta get hold of the chick it centres around - easier said than done but I'm going to fight, fight, fight, fight, fight for this idea (damn Cheryl Cole)

Friday, 5 February 2010


There's a glimmer of hope on the horizon. Someone has finally taken me seriously. Someone is prepared to take a chance on me. Why is it I have to persuade everyone I'm worth having? It's frustrating, isn't it but I'm sure media ain't the one place this happens? Ideas are in motion - could take months and months and months and I hope the momentum doesn't wane but a reputable and successful company want me to front some new ideas for them. Wish me luck. It damn sure ain't the end of the road. Got 2 other TV job applications to finish next week whilst I'm home alone ALL WEEK *sniff sob*. Need to keep myself busy busy bus busy. I feel a little brighter. Thanks for caring. Thanks for asking. Thanks for reading :-)

Friday, 29 January 2010


My path isn't anyone else's BUT mine and I have to carve my own. I have to keep believing that today  - after my friend's travelling news from yesterday knocked me out of the game for a while, I'm fighting back.

I can only imagine how much harder for people who have no job, no money, are losing their home. I feel a level of despair I've never felt before and of course my pain feels absolute but I know others are hurting more. At least I'm waiting on a check to come through. I have nothing to sell, not even any gold to cash (like that fabulous black chick in the advert with Dale Winton. She got that American 'headfllick, finger click' thing going on as she says it but you know damn well she's from Fulham - or somewhere. LMAO)

I had a call today - I sent an email off to a radio job ad - as you do, you send it without thinking cos 99.99% of people NEVER REPLY. But this guy RANG. Looking for a new presenter, 'I'm right up his street, he said 'but I'm possibly OVER qualified...'. You read right 'OVER QUALIFIED'. WTF??????? He said 'I will probably be TOO expensive for them, might blow their budget'. I asked him what his budget was and he wouldn't say. How flipping difficult, eh? I mean not HIM being difficult but how difficult to gauge.... :-((.  Plus I'd have to drive 175 miles a DAY round trip for the job. But good to immerse myself back in radio and have a laugh to boot. Might just be my ticket to an even bigger job back in radio. He told me to think about it, come up with a figure for pay and bell him on Monday. Good LORD? Any clues - shall I go for it? For now?  Looks like that's my only hope - that and the other TV job way on the other side of England. Believe  - it's only a 6 month contract but as they say BEGGARS can't be choosers.

I wonder how many other people in Britain are trekking miles, doing 2, 3 or 4 bus journeys to get to their second job, that they HATE, just to make ends meet and put food on the table. NUFF, I can imagine, NUFF. I KNOW this. So I have the opportunity to do a job that I love, a drive away and I have a car (the train situation is lousy from home to the radio station) and make some £££. I must be dumb to even not be thinking straight. But desperation makes your mind wonky.

Back in the day when I was MEGA poor and a student, freshy freelance journo that no-one would hire, I wished so hard that I wasn't so fat, cos then I could have got myself a job in a lapdancing club and earned  NUFF. That was desperate. Not so now... I hope!

Thursday, 28 January 2010

More tears

No sooner I write one post than I'm motivated to write another. I've just had a call from a friend - a fellow media sista - who is jacking in her job in a few months and travelling around the world alone. Not before she spends a week in the US touting for work. I'm shellshocked as this is exactly what i think i need to do - USA seems the only likely place to achieve my TV journalism dream, but I dont have 2 pennies to rub together right now  - specially since the taxman took thousands of pounds from me yesterday - let alone the airfare. So what, you might say? True. So what, cos it aint really anyone elses problem but mine. I've just gotta figure it out.

Crying crying crying crying

Breaking down and crying is becoming an artform for me.  I'm not being melodramatic here but I'm being honest - this is what this blog is all about. I'm saying things here I could never even say to my mother. Revealing how desperate I'm feeling about everything. The dream I've had for over 2 decades is fading away and there's not a lot I can do about it. I've got the skills and experience to kick ass in any newsroom but no-one is interested right now.

It was another tough morning. I played with my iPhone in bed, catching on the morning's news headlines. Even tuned in to The Today programme - listening to the British verdict on Obama's State of the Nation address. I half thought I should stay in bed, warm and safe, under the duvet all day so I didnt have to get on with things. But that meant DWELLING. My mind would dwell and that ain't good.

So I DID get up, and I sat at my desk, and got into the daily ritual. I trawled all the usual websites for news of any job openings. I saw one, which I KNOW I can do but means I'd have to move 150 miles to do it!

This afternoon's been productive - despite ducking out of a couple of events I should have attended today. I galvanised a few more TV programme ideas, emailed them off, rang a couple of production companies and asked them who I should send my details too. Half of me is hopeful, the other half hopeless.

You see the British TV game is thus - if you're either slim, blonde, with big tits and stunning and you're instantly given a chance on screen, despite the fact your diction might be awful and you don't really know what you're talking about on screen. If you're like me a medium frame, gorgeous, dark-skinned black women, I don't even get replies from people  - despite my journalism prowess, British TV don't want black people fronting shows. Any show. Not one. Unless that is you look 'exotic'. By 'exotic' I mean, can't quite tell where you're from, e.g. fair-skinned, mixed heritage, curly-hair that's been straightened. I ain't hating here cos my son or daughter will be of dual heritage. Just saying. Those are the rules. I know. I have to live by them.

I became a journalist to gain authority and credibility - in the time I've been doing that the glamour models, porn stars, weather girls, singers, actresses, comediennes and sportswomen have become the NEW TV stars. The more lightweight you are, it seems the more glamourous and appealing for TV. Intelligent is mediocre, especially if it's black and intelligent. And I'm not talking Stephen Fry proportions of intelligent  - you should KNOW that from me by now.

I bet there's a whole ton of women out there who agree with me.

Wednesday, 27 January 2010

The Abyss

Can I be honest with you? I feel like I'm staring into a huge abyss. I've just paid the Tax Man - I'm broke. I did quite well last year but things have changed and my lifeline is gone - the job I used to do has come to an end. 'Things are great, things are looking up, there are irons in the fire.' It's all bullshit cos I'm scared, tired and broke. Everyday I search online at various websites for work in my field. My field is tough though - I'm sure everyone will say the same about their own industry - but mine is tough. I'm trying to become someone in an industry where black women are non-existent in mainstream TV, unless they are singers, actresses or sportswomen. I'm trying to be someone who has authority  (and I admit I'm not on as high an intellectual or rapier wit-like plain of Stephen Fry) but I have something. I am a professional I'm a journalist, with good programme ideas and the tenacity and experience to handle any given situation. But it's a massive fight to get heard in this sea. And I'm drowning. Today I feel I should stop trying to swim and just drown. I feel I should just give up, let the water rush over me and breathe into it. Should I?

Monday, 25 January 2010

Why doesn't the BBC just SHUT IT?

If this story is to be believed - it's TIRED and the BBC should just pipe down.

Coronation Street won the NTA's Best Serial Drama cos it has been and ALWAYS WILL BE Britain's most superior soap. BBC execs just can't handle it just cos a programme made outside the flipping Watford Gap, with a cast that don't chat bout apples and pears all the time actually WON. Swallow it.

Then again the cynic in me knows it's just some desperate, hard-up, freelance hack at The Mirror without a story, making something about LAST WEEK'S news just to fill a few column inches and look good in front of the boss. I know your game. I've played it.

American Dream is over for David Tennant...

....well it's over before it's even begun for the Skinny White Boy, whose face we saw just TOO DAMN MUCH of over Christmas and New Year all over British TV cos NBC have jerked off all over his US TV debut. There IS a God.

They've put 'Rex Is Not Your Lawyer' on hold. I don't think the US chicks would've been feeling his pale face and skinny frame anyways...I seen more meat on a pigmy quail carcas. Peace out.

GMTV Meltdown

Word on the street is GMTV and ITN will merge, Penny Smith and John Stapleton's asses will be out on the kerb - they earn £175k and £200k respectively.

Can anyone tell me what Penny 'Inane Grin' Smith actually BRINGS to the table?!? I reckon only a handful of pensioners in Shetland Isles actually remember her from back in the day when she was mediocre. She's only there still cos the managers at GMTV were scared of her threatening a tribunal and a splash in the tabloids if they dared mentioned the word 'pay cut' or 'sacking'.

Her ship has long sailed. She's already fixed herself her next gig - touting her butt on Alan Titchmarsh tonight, chatting about her book and being a Book &Poetry expert. She's about as much as an expert on Books as I am a Quantum Physist. Some newspaper's signed her up as Opera Correspondent. Purleeeeeeeeeease, do us a favour P and slide into oblivion you belong..