And after months, literally, nearly 6 months of begging letters, I have managed to rake in £1000.
This is of course wonderful, and I am forever grateful that it was given to me in the first place, however, in the grand scheme of things, it’s grim.
It hasn’t even covered my deposit and first months rent in the new flat.
Thankfully, I have managed to save up just enough to keep me going for a couple of months, after the tuition has been paid.
But what then?
I have been looking into becoming a children’s entertainer on the weekends/evenings so that I can rake in some decent money for something that isn’t a huge ball ache, and flexible around my course and extra curricular stuff. But lord knows if it will come to fruition. I would love it to.
I need to sign up to some decent events/promo companies in the mean time so that I can work in London and earn decent money for the month of September. Does anyone know of any decent companies?
There is a lot to be scared of right now. My financial stability is questionable to shambolic.
There is of course the big step of moving in with the boyfriend. And not just into our flat, but into a ROOM in a flat. His endless musical gear, speakers, mics, and instruments meets my endless books, stationary, costume bits and bobs, and genuine NEED for quiet when I’m writing essays. All in one room. Within a larger flat. Considering we’ve spent the last three years totally apart and only visiting each other for brief periods of time, this is going to be a big change.
Then of course there’s the course. I’m determined not to make the same mistakes that I made at uni. If the industry is all about knowing the right people, then fuck it, I don’t care HOW much they annoy me, I’m going to force myself to meet and greet and socialise and work with the right people. I’ll just have to have a stress ball on a key chain on me at all times… Haha. I just worry that I might fuck up and not make the most of it like I’m supposed to.
Bah, there is more to stress about, but on the grand scale of things happening in the world, I am aware that my problems are small. So I won’t go on about them further, I just needed a place to briefly vent a bit.
But anyway, seriously… Anyone know any flexible and decent paying events companies in the london area I can look up?
Hey, I wonder if any of the Republicans (and Democrats, for that matter) who were SO… VERY… OPPOSED to the United States playing a SUPPORTING ROLE in this six-month campaign to HELP the Libyan rebels (who BTW ASKED for help) topple the Qaddafi regime — I wonder if they will now turn around and say…
Where education is lacking, jobs scarce, cultural development zero, prospects even less, people like this, who will cause mindless violence and partake in thuggery, will grow. #londonriots
Yes, their actions are not to be condoned. And yes, for many of them, there is no real political agenda.
But for us, for the rest of the United Kingdom, for the toffs that are sitting in the houses of parliment feebly bleating the same words ‘pure criminality’ again and again, it is. WHY are there such communities that exist in the UK? Why can people like this in so many boroughs of London, and Birmingham, and goodness knows where else, be brought up in a community where they have nothing to gain, and simultaneously nothing to lose in comitting these crimes?
And this question is the crux of the issue. The UK’s huge segregation between the upper and lower classes, the sheer scope of poverty and lack of hope and future for so many young communities lies at the heart of this. They don’t mind hacking up their towns, because they see nothing to be proud of. They have not been educated enough, or had the right welfare provided for their home lives to ensure that their parents educate them enough, to know that the world does not stop at them, and that their actions will deeply hurt and affect others.
This is only uncovering a fraction of what many youngsters across the country feel, I’m sure.
I can only hope that it dies down sooner rather than later, and doesn’t become a sick trend.
Oh, I’m sorry, I was unaware that reading about a girl who, like, babysits or solves mysteries or lives with her little brother in the Metropolitan Museum of Art like a FUCKING BADASS would hurt your son’s penis or something.
“You just do it. You force yourself to get up. You force yourself to put one foot before the other, and God damn it, you refuse to let it get to you. You fight. You cry. You curse. Then you go about the business of living. That’s how I’ve done it. There’s no other way.”