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!
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.
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.
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?
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.
....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.
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..
Welcome. To. My. Blog: THIS IS THE BBC ONLINE. BBC stands for. Black. British. Chick. For. I. Am. Thus. I. Am. English. I. Work. In. The. Media. I. Am. A. Seasoned. Professional. I. Am. Also. A Cynic. A Critic. A Straight Talker. A Game Player. A Bitter. Hardened. Hater. A. Bitch. A. Lover. A. Fighter. A. Joker. And. A. Woman. Of. Many. Words. Thoughts. Hopes. And. Fears. For. Herself. And. Her. Fellow. Black. Woman. Herein. Lies. Lots. Of. Fury. And. Love.