10 Things to make Work go Faster

10 Things that make Work go Faster in Claire's

10. Squeeze the stress balls each time a lady rams her pram into the wall, reverses then does it again into the eyelash stand, then stands on them for good measure. Everytime I squash the novelty cow and see its' funny little eyes pop out, imagining it as a customer makes my fake smile that little bit wider.

9. Bug the woman that doesn't want to be bugged. Inform her of all the special promotions and continue to try and sell her every till line, not just the complusary two, as she tries to purchase the single packet of Cheryl Cole eyelashes.

8. Inform the woman that didn't want to be bugged that Cheryl Cole merely designed the eyelashes, and that there's no guarentee that by purchasing them will she actually look like Cheryl Cole.

7. Wish her a pleasant day as she expresses that she wishes you were dead.

6. Curse to yourself as you tidy the headband stand at the back of the room. Continue to do so as young children approach the stand. If this is not a strong enough deterrant, bare teeth and hiss.

5. Walk around and mentally calculate what you can purchase everything for with your staff discount, including the spongebob inflattable flannels and the Jonas Brothers sweatbands.

4. Ask the kids if they want their ears pierced, stating it doesn't hurt, while pulling out the gun covered in novelty fake blood.

3. Comment on every customers item as you scan it through the till. On effectiveness, whether you've tried it or not, whether it will suit the customer and what you were thinking of having for tea tonight.

2. Follow small groups of children around with the walkie talkie in your hand and make them feel you suspect them of shoplifting, while in reality you are pretending you are a F.B.I agent and that there is a bomb hidden somewhere inside the fluffy slipper rack that must be found and destroyed immediately.

1. Give the compulsary baskets out to the smallest of children and watch them fill it to the brim while the dads run around panicked trying to put it all back before the child reaches the til to it's already shopaholic mother. Give the child lots of sweets as soon as the father leaves the scene of the crime and take delight in knowing that the child will be hyper around surrounding shops for the next three hours.

Things that Don't Make the Shift go Faster:

5. The same Christmas song disc on repeat for your six hour shift.
4. Thinking about how much of your six hour shift you've completed and how much is left.
3. Thinking about what you've having for tea.
2. Realising you aren't having anything for tea.
1. Thinking about how much you make an hour.

Just keep Swimming...Just keep swimming...that's what we do, we swim, swim, swim.

"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, that's what we do, we swim, swim swim..." - Dory. Finding Nemo.

That's not the best quote I've ever heard, but for some reason it is the only one that I can recall when anyone asks me to recite something from any film, book, poem, or song ever wrote. I don't know why it's stuck with me, but it's always proven to be pretty useless to me creeping into my mind at the most inconvenient of times.

But as I sit here in my last pair of underwear and last clean shirt, trouserless as both pairs hang sodden on my radiator, I can't help upon reflect on my life.

As a particular optimist I've ignored for a while that I might slowly be slipping into a category, and I don't quite know yet whether this category can be considered higher or lower than a student bum, but here goes.

I crawled out of bed this morning and immediately there was a stinging sensation in my feet that told me I needed to sit back down and not stand up anymore. As I contemplated implications of this, I realised it wasn't possible, and that I did have to complete what I'd set out to do that day. Why were my feet hurting? Because I've been working all week non stop, in between lectures and trying to move house. Move house you say, I thought you already had a house? Well yes, but now I have another one. I'm working four jobs and renting houses, flicking back and forth work, uni and whichever house I fancy, none of them are mine, all are rented or loaned by parent or boyfriend and all are at my disposal, which would be lovely, if I could get to them.

A few days ago my car blew up and is costing an extortionate amount of money to fix, giving no guarentee that after the deed is done by some obscure mechanic, as not many are willing to undertake the task of a new headgasket, that said car-object will not continue to blow up, leaving me in the same position.

I'm tired and covered in spots. Not little "time of the month" annoying spots, but massive face welts that make me look like week old porridge. I'm grabbing whatever I can lay my hands on cheaply (Smash. No peas, they're all gone) or whatever handouts I receive (thank you dad, for the Egg McMuffin.) It's not helping diet or spots, or ability to keep mood at a constant. This morning, when I ran to my other house to try and put the washing on I sprinkled the last of my washing powder into the machine and tried to keep it together. I don't have any more money, or underwear, or the means to buy or get new. I really am nearing the bottom of the pile here...

To top it all off, I had my first shift in Chiquitos yesterday and was given numerous training manuals and leaflets on how to successfully perfom my duties; How to be Safe in the Kitchen, How to Wipe the Floor Correctly, How to not pluck out your Eye with the Bottle Opener, and How to be Mexican. The last manuel is not a joke. When changing my employment information on facebook to include my Chiquitos expertise alongside

"Company: Claire's Accessories,
Position: The Bosses' Bitch
Duties: Selling pink fluff to five year olds, it's like kiddy crack"

with

"Company: Chiquitos,
Position: Waitress/ Barmaid/ Senorita
Duties: Running around pretending to be Mexican"

Little did I know how true this was. I learnt that I can be fired for "not being Mexican enough" and am judged on "how Mexican you are." I can't pronounce quesadilla and don't entirely understand the difference between a burrito and a taco, but can't afford to be fired, and so I will don the stupid little moustaches they give me and the funny little sombrero hats they give to guests and stick a marracca up my ass and dance if it means I get to wash my knickers every night.

You won't see me over Christmas as I will either be working pretending to be a Mexican, or I'll be selling crack to five year olds. Yeah, I'm a Mexican drug dealer now, so I guess I only have myself to blame.

But my family will be receiving presents, because while those of you might have laughed at me when in October I announced I'd finished my Christmas shopping, and by November you'd all been written out Christmas cards which sat securely until it was deemed acceptable to give them out; now that the credit crunch well and truely smacked me across the face, for once in my god damn life I was prepared, and while gifts don't matter, I'm glad I can give my family something on Christmas day. Which I'm glad of for purely selfish reasons. I want to be see them smile. Especially when I'm not going to be earning double time, although I am contemplating having Christmas early, maybe the 23rd, the ensure I am able to work double time, but it's an idea I'll have to run past them along with my idea for the construction of a giant tube that shoops me to uni every morning straight from bed, but thats another story.

I have exams. I have no money. I have four jobs and that money isn't even gonna cover it. I'm renting my house. I'm fat and spotty and if I were that kind of person I might slowly start sinking under, but I'm not. Standing in the rain, on the hard shoulder of the M4 last week as I blew my own head gasket trying to get off the motorway before the mean motorway people charged me for being there without breakdown cover, my mind turned blank.

My shoes were so full of water standing in the stream running down the carriageway were I stood motionless as the winter rain stung my face hoping my father would be here soon, as he was coming to fetch me in some form or another after just coming out of hospital for treatment on his neck, when he was in fact not ideally supposed to be driving.

I stood there and cursing all other drivers who didnt stop and help me that day. I stuck my fingers up the raining sky, feeling I was losing an ongoing battle with the elements. Sodden and freezing, my phone beeping low battery, I couldn't help but think "Well, what now?" and that's when it came to me, as it does, at what I've always considered to be the most useless of times, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, that's what we do, we swim, swim, swim." So that's what I did. Like the psychotic fool I am, I started muttering the little song to myself as I waded through the water and sat in my car, my father appeared an hour later with a tow rope, and even with his bad neck he managed to get me home that day.

It's ok to feel like your sinking every once and a while. You've just got to wait for something to throw you a life line to help you along and get you back home.

Hope you all have a lovely Christmas. Adios.

Ten Books that shaped Me

10 Belle De Jour
9 Children of the Dust
8 Shantaram - David Greggory Roberts
7 Adrian Mole - Sue Townsand
6 Kane and Abel - Jeffrey Archer
5 Garden of Eden - Ernest Hemingway
4 Animal Farm - Orwell
3 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
2 Jane Eyre- Charlotte Bronte
1

The day the world stood still

"How's your day been today?" asked the Czech barista at Starbucks as she rang my order through the til, wiping down the damp surface as she did so. I followed the line the damp sponge made, wiping away the crumbs and suddenly realised that I had in fact had a very nice day. I looked up at her and smiled.

"Yeah, I have in fact, had a really, really good day. I don't know why, it's just been really nice; I haven't done anything but it feels like I've done everything, I haven't really been anywhere; but I've been everywhere, I dunno, it's just been weird, I had a job interview and I think I've got it, even though I don't actually want it, I haven't eaten today and I'm not even hungry, yeah. Actually, It's been really good." The barista looked up at me unexpectly, not expecting an answer to her automatic customer question and probably hadn't understood a word I'd said. I didn't care. "That's why I'm eating cake!" I said, nodding my head back down towards the slice of carrot cake I'd just ordered, and walked off with a smile, carrot cake and Fatt-acino in each hand.

I wouldn't usually disclose my frequent Starbucks addiction with you, and I never want to know exactly how much fat is in one of my Fattaccinos (as the name would depict, I'm well aware I'm pushing the calorie boat waaaay out when I order one. Or two.) but as I was sitting there munching on cake and sipping away watching the Swansea late night shoppers wander past in floating drabs I started to consider exactly what a nice day it had been today.

I was awake at 7am this morning, and didn't have to get up until twelve. It seemed like I had all the time in the world, so I lay there. Not doing anything, not thinking anything, not even about how good it felt to be able to do that.

I got out of bed at eleven and opened my curtains. The pavement was bone dry and the sky was a pale winter blue, small shafts of cloud breaking it up here and there, the sun shining somewhere to my right casting light shadows on the houses in front of me. Overjoyed I switched on some upbeat music and realised I didn't have to co ordinate my outfit with the weather. I could wear whatever I wanted. So I did. I had a job interview later in the day, so out came the the feel-good Karen Millen coat ready to put on as I left at 1.30, which at 11.06 seemed ages away.

Wandering into the kitchen I didn't feel like breakfast. I cleaned myself up and came back into my bedroom, and for the first time in what seems like ages I danced around my room in my underwear to the cheesiest songs I could find. One of which was Miley Cyrus, and I will never ever listen to it again, and yes, I do still hate her - but not as much as Cheryl Cole. Ahem!

I took my time chatting and singing, doing my makeup and my hair, eventually I made my way into uni and couldn't help but smile at the beautiful weather. I strolled along the beachfront looking at the reflections cast on the sand and the runners looking like black figures easing back and forth in the distance. I arrived outside my lecture room with five minutes to spare. I went inside and got a seat next to my friend. Half way through the lecture I realised how much I was enjoying it, and whispers to her "I actually really like social psychology lectures" and for the first time in a long time took down hoardes of notes. And might actually read them sometime in the future.

After it finished I was about to make my way to stats when she told me there was no stats. No more stats. It had finally finished. Granted, I'd missed the last three, but still. Elated I wandered up to the Waterfront office to admit to my editor I didn't really know what to write about for the Christmas issue, wanting to go for something different but not sure how to tackle it. As I walked in I heard "There's a girl who wants to write a kinda Sex and the City column...." and saw my editor nodding his head. I momentarily saw red, but took a step back and breathed the venom back out of my system.

The brief visit to the office took only 5 minutes, and I was free again. With two hours before my interview. I wandered around the University grounds and discovered some new little shortcuts I was unaware of before. I went to the Bookswap and picked up three interesting looking books. I kept walking along the Waterfront and weaved in and out of the traffic, wasting time before my interview.

At the interview, I realise that for once, I didn't care if I got the job, and I wasn't going to bullshit him into thinking that I did want it. I spoke frank, openly, honestly, and he laughed all the way through it. I didn't even have a low cut top on.

"What do you know so far about the brand?"

"The brand? Chiquitos? Er, nothing actually, I'm sorry, I'll learn if I get the job I promise... I guess it's Mexican, it sounds Mexican anyway, I'd assume it's a rather large brand too cos I tend to see lots of them about...er, that's it really..."

He looked at me and didn't allow me to read his expression. Next he started talking about the bar and how my experience in the Harvester and Idols probably didn't mean I had much experience in cocktails.

"I. Love. Cocktails. I have lots of experience in cocktails!"

"Can you make one?"

"No, but I, er, I'd like to be able to...In fact, I'd really like to be able to..."

He began asking about other experience. I said I had enough, I'd also helped out at a friends bar for cash in hand a few times, to which he inserted "A bit of illegal working isit?" to the end of my sentence, to which I nodded and smiled.

I left and made my way up to town, looking at the twinkling Christmas lights and felt grateful my coat was so warm. I took my time wandering along, popping in and out of shops, staring at the Christmas displays and thinking about anything else I needed to do. All my presents were wrapped, my cards were wrote out, everything was bought...I was all ready for Christmas about two weeks ago and am just waiting for acceptable "Christmas period" to openly admit that I've been listening to christmas tunes on my Zen for about a month now. I am well and truly ecstatic for Christmas. I've even bought Vijay a present, forgetting he's Hindu.

I bumped into an old friend outside the bank and stopped for a chat. It was good to catch up with an old face and let them know how I was doing, especially when I was in such a pleasant mood. Saying my goodbye's I wandered into Starbucks, where the lovely Czech lady began to serve me my guilty pleasures. After reading a few pages of Ulysses and polishing off my cake I took the rest of my beverage outside into the wintry frost and ambled along the street, the cold freezing my nose and the drink chilling my insides too. I didn't care. I had my music on, and I was happy.

I'm enjoying a glass of rose before going out to toast Giles' birthday. I have another hour before I'm supposed to arrive, am fully ready to go and managed to successfully save this blog before my computer crashed.

I don't know what's going on, nothing's happened but I feel like I've accomplished so much, I'm happy with everywhere I am in life and with what the future has in store. I've got lots of plans that I can't wait to carry out, a few holidays I'm already saving for and I'm enjoying my course. I don't want anything more in the world that what I already have, and I don't know how I've ever managed to doubt it. Nothing has changed for everything to feel like it's fallen into place, but it has.

I guess when we're running through our lives, darting from one goal to another, not really knowing what's going on or where live is taking you, you don't stop to think about what you've got, and where you're going. Today, time kindly stopped for me, and I could see perfectly. And for once, I like it.

** I'd also like to include that for ONCE IN MY LIFE I HAVE POSSESSION OF MY STUDENT CARD AND IT ISNT STUCK INSIDE THE LIBRARY OFFICE HAVING LEFT IT IN THE PRINTER MACHINE! YEAH! **

**I'm also wearing a sequin blazor tonight. FINALLY!**

Milestones and Michael Jackson

Happy anniversary to meee!!!

Today is my anniversary. I've been with Wayne for 5 years officially. He doesn't know it yet but rather than going to a fancy restaurant I kinda wanna go somewhere that I can stuff my face and get more food than fluff so I'm going to suitably decide on somewhere I can scoff. After 5 years I don't need to pretend I don't eat any more. I can wake up with my hair sticking out at 90 degree angles with ice-cream stuck to my nose and malteasers stuck to my bellybutton and there's nothing he can do about it. Yay for female domestic bullying and long term relationships!

Had a nine o clock lecture. Wandered in with my big frumpy headphones and I don't know what it is about the scissor sisters that make me want to dance but whenever I hear the opening bars of "Filthy Gorgeous" something within just makes me want to strut around pouting and wiggly my bum. I was walking along the beach front... the perfect catwalk, were it not for all the cars passing. Still, it was only quarter to nine, and the morning traffic wasn't as bad as it could have been. I felt my head began to bob and my ass begin to swing as I tried to maintain a normal walk while the power of the Scissor Sisters started to posses me. I blame them entirely for any spins and random blasts of "Oooooh and I'm gorgeous!!!!" as I vogue posed along the waterfront and skipped into my lecture - on time might I add.

After the lecture (which I actually took notes for, on a fixed piece of paper that I promise I won't lose as I bought a special book to put them all in last week, along with six pens, so it is highly unlikely that I'll lose them. Well, maybe the pens, but not the book anyway) I bounced up to the waterfront office to find my editor. I have no idea what to write for the next edition. He text me yesterday asking if I had any ideas. I feigned low credit. I don't have a clue what to write about. Luckily, he was nowhere to be found so I hopped back down the stairs and started making my way back along Bryn Road to home.

As I wandered along quietly humming along, looking behind me to check there was nowhere in close proximity before I belted out a tune from a popular chorus, or had to stop to do a little bum shuffle in the street, a man walked towards me suddenly seemed too animated. I looked at him quizzically as he appeared to be shouting something with his arms in the air. Frenzically I turned down the volume on my Zen and turned my attention to what he was shouting. He was singing. Amazed I immediately thought maybe he too was listening to the Scissor Sisters, thinking that maybe it affects everyone and not just me, but as he came closer I heard a few bars of Michael Jackson, belting them out at the top of his voice. It dawned on me that I must limit by public shows of embarrassment to potential X-factor auditions. The man, who would had looked fairly normal, medium height and build, green bomber jacket, black, had he not have been serenading early morning students. He was perfectly in tune and didn't even have headphones on, his arms striking out into the air as he hit top notes, and I headed into the direction he had came from towards my house.

I began to consider my recent events in this part of town. Between Mr Jackson, the homeless men, and the complete and utter psychos I live with, I am slowly coming to the conclusion that there may be something in the water down these parts.

Off to do my hair now ready to start my anniversary day. Yay.



Peace! x

Jingle Bells

Christmas is on it's way!

And I cannot wait. To top it all off, I have a job, which is fantastic. I love shopping Christmas time and I think living in a shop over the next few months is really gonna lift my mood and put me firmly in the Christmas spirit.

(Red bow, Dorothy Perkins, was £8 now £2.40, red lipstick 99p in the sale box at Superdrug)

So on that note, here's what I'll be spending my imaginary money on this year!

1) Sequin blazer. As soon as the imaginary money materialises it will be mine. In black.

2) Absolutely loving lace and will be trying to incorporate it as much as possible over xmas. Found two nifty items looking really similar, one in Topshop and one in Zara. Zara has a slightly better bubble skirt in my opinion but both are £45 and Topshop gives 10% student discount to the ladies...so I think in this situation it's going to have to be Topshop for the win.



3) Loving oversized fake furs and think they're more likely to take off this year after a few years of trying to trickle in slowly. Oasis has a really nice black one and really impressed with the River Island selection this season, for a not so full on look Zara has a really good range of different lengthed Gillets for a more layered look that might be easier to incorporate into an outfit rather than covering it all up with a full on faux coat.

4) Really liking the other the knee boots but unsure how practical they'll be as a full heel, think I'll be trying them out as flats as soon as I get paid. Whenever I get paid. If, ever, I get paid.

So! Now that's out of the way, some things I'm not so keen on...

1) River Islands little perfume, Chic, smells as cheap as it's priced at £7.99 but is a rather convincing knock off of Kenzo's Flowers but doesn't really last as long.

2) I'm in Season Two of Ugly Betty and do not like Gio's haircut. For those who are up to date don't tell me how it works out for them both unless he grows it.

3) My anniversary is coming up so looking for ideas of where to go, was hoping for a weekend away somewhere cheap and cheerful so ideas on a postcard please! Unless of course I'm hauled into work, in which case I'll be looking for a good restaurant, once again, suggestions please!

Current Swansea Highstreet Sales:

1) Claire's tights, boots and leggings are currently 30%. Walk into the store and I'll hand you a basket as I say that.

2) Dorothy Perkins has 70% off one of their jewellery stands at the moment, get in there quickly for some bargain christmas presents and stocking fillers

3) La Senza currently have their pyjamas at two for £20. Good to split with someone for a good gift for your mam!

4) Riiiiight at the back of Republic there's a £10 each stand, which I would have totally missed if I hadn't gone right to the back to try something on. There were still a few good pieces there but looks like the sale is coming to the end so get down there for a little mosey.

5) False eyelashes are buy one get one half price in Boots. Have a friend currently trying out the Cheryl Cole lashes from the Girls Aloud range which were included in the offer and will let you know how they worked out!

xoxo