Dancing into Diversity!

What would you do if your friend asked you and your husband to accompany them and their wife to a ball?  Ooh what a lovely invite, a chance to dress up in your finest, to shake the dust off your finest undergarments and sashay around for a few hours in the fanciest frock you can find in the darkest recesses of your wardrobe - in the section marked 'Bought for loads of money years ago and yet to be worn' (yeah I bet most of you have one of those too).   Now what if your friend said it was a special type of ball for a select group of people and their friends and families?  Intriguing!  How would you react if your friend, who happened to be male, said it was a transgender ball and that he was going as his female alter ego?  Oh lordy! 

For quite a lot of people this last bit of information may have been the deal breaker, the undies would have been put back in the drawer (or loft if you're scared your mum may find them during one of her routine 'just looking for the remote' searches) and the dress stuffed back into the wardrobe where it hopes it won't be another 7 years before it sees the light of day! 

However JB and I have known about our friend's alternative personality for a while now so we were up for a well earned night out regardless of gender identity, sexuality or political influences (however I will stop at TOWIE enthusiasts!).  From the point of invite I was curious about the transgender world, I am a generally curious person any way, and the following questions kept popping into my head: 

1) What am I to expect?:  Mechanic types in skirts and flaming queens maybe.

2) What do I say?  Maybe saying nothing at all will stop my mouth from insulting an entire society of people already anxious about how the general public may view them.

3) What if I accidentally get hideously drunk and do something to upset my friends?  

The one thing I did not worry about was whether I would feel uncomfortable mingling in a world that at that point in time was so unfamiliar to myself.  My friend had been open about 'Abi' not long after we became friends and welcomed any questions.  I therefore felt prepared enough not to be uncomfortable.  If I had have been I wouldn't have gone.  I had been introduced to Abi some time before the ball and was quite amazed by the transition.  Overall the ball was an experience I welcomed.  

So the night arrives and we make our way to one of the transgender social events of the year .. 'The Enigma Ball' with JB and I firing off a few last minute questions to get us in the spirit of things to come.  We arrived at this amazing building and was met by friendly people and a free glass of sparkly loveliness.  The first thing that I noticed was the dazzling display of colourful dresses.  Most of the dresses were obviously bespoke as I had never seen anything like them before.  My favourite of the night was the aqua green peacock inspired creation worn by one of the ladies.  In addition to this there were elegant 'dinner with the ships captain' gowns' (as I call them) and this-seasons-fashion ensembles.  Abi had opted for a pop art baby doll print dress with (in my opinion) chic Japanese style accessories and she looked fantastic.  

The four of us grabbed another glass of something refreshing and made away around the rooms.  I was introduced to Abi's friends and met the team from Femesque who help transform men into the women they feel they really are.  The ball had a swing band called the SwingSmiths who were really awesome.  Swing is possibly one of the few music genres that has not featured in my dancing past so this night was a new experience in many ways!  I posed for pictures, made conversation with quite a few people and laughed with many.  It became quickly apparent to me that there was nothing unnatural about this night, about this way of life.  The experience was better than I expected and I had expected a good standard initially.  I had the fortune to meet many interesting people such as Roxy, Alice and Brianna as well as many more whose names have been lost in a haze of loud music and the effects of free flowing happyjuice (to those whose names escape me at the moment I apologise profusely).  I would have loved to have taken may pictures of the night to place on my blog but after thinking about it for a bit and out of respect for those who are not as open about being transgender as my friend is (and how public the internet is) I decided against it.   Instead you may see a picture of the fabulous 'Me' in my 7 year old never been worn before dress (so old it's probably back in fashion!)

Some of the ladies were accompanied by their wives, some by their husbands, some came with friends and some came on their own.  Some of the ladies, like my friend, were open about their female side to friends and family and I met a few wives and partners  who were happy to tell me about their lives inside and outside the transgender world.  One lady gave me the impression that the desire she had to be a woman was a secret no one in her family knew about.  There were even some women there dressed as their male persona.  Every account was different and I began to understand that there is no accurate definition to describe what being transgender actually is.  The descriptions I had researched online explained it in black and white terms, but at the ball the picture was a lot more colourful.   

The night came to a close too soon and before I knew it I was back in the car on the way home.  I remember falling asleep just as we stopped for a post party Maccy-D's.  The morning after a very wobbly me gave an account of the night to my parents.  I commented on how feminine and elegant all the ladies were, which according to my mum and JB was far more elegant than your beloved Joolz was when I rolled up to the front door at 2am clutching one shoe and a burger box (which I was convinced was the other shoe) like chav city's version of Cinderella !! (Oh dear and in front of the parents too - eek!) 

So to sign off on this experience I shall say that I am very grateful to my friends for letting JB and I into their world.  There was nothing bad to report and I feel I am richer for the experience.  JB's contribution to this blog is "a fun and interesting evening full of friendly people" and I agree wholeheartedly.  

With deep respect, Joolz x 

For the Love of Charity

Hello fellow bloggers!  

A few months ago a friend and myself decided to take on a great challenge for the benefit of human kind.  Neither of us can run for toffee so we decided to power walk our way through a marathon distance.  I waited patiently for news of a registration date to be announced.  When I knew the date I merely had a few more weeks to wait before I could enter it myself.  Today was that day!  Just before 9am this morning I was poised nervously at my computer, refreshing every minute, waiting for registration to open.  Bang on 9am I registered my details and paid my fee.  A few minutes later I had received the conformation e-mail that I was in.  I am going to be part of one of the most anticipated charity events in the UK. I, Joolz Bojangles, will be taking part in the Walk the Walk London 2013 Moonwalk Marathon! 

For those that are unaware of this event it is a sponsored charity event which raises money for breast cancer research.  The event is held overnight and the full distance is 26.2 miles.  The story of the 'Walk the Walk' charity is quite an amazing one and I encourage you to read the following link for more information: The 'Walk the Walk' charity and how it all started.  

I know women who had completed previous London Moonwalk's and have heard great reviews about it.  I have also known a women who had breast cancer and I have seen how unrelenting the condition is. I think about my family and I especially think about my children.   I hope one day in their life time we may find a cure for cancer.  A lot of research needs to be done and a lot of money needs to be raised in order to do this, but once we find that cure the world will be revolutionised.   I  want to do my bit for my children's generation and 2013 is going to be the year that I stand up against this condition.  I may only raise £100, but that's £100 extra in the pot! 

Some people will think 'Pah! walking isn't much of a challenge' - well I have read some of last years testimonials and I am actually scared that I'll end up a collapsed on the side of the road.  So I have to train for this event and I have 6 months to get racing fit!  In all honesty I am actually looking forward to it.  I shall post updates on my training and sponsorship links, and will let you know how the main event goes.  

"For the fun, for the challenge, for the fight against breast cancer" Joolz Bojanges (Nov 2012) 

x

Customer Disservice

Why oh why in this day and age do I find myself having legal arguments with big name stores over things as petty as a damn blanket!  Does business reputation and customer satisfaction not mean anything these days?  Do some companies think that their size makes them impervious to being toppled by a simple self-richeous know-it-all as they hide behind their loopholes sniggering at how damn clever they are at getting one over the average Joe?  

'Customer Services' - the words themselves create hope that the injustice you have suffered will be rectified via a speedy investigation.  In my (sometimes warped) mind I picture the scene where my complaint is immediately received by an eager ray ban wearing avenging angel who rapidly hits the alarm sending red lights streaming and sirens blaring across the futuristic 'minority report' style office space.  Cut to a group of highly skilled private detectives gathered around a table listing the issues I have highlighted and pinpointing their origin with every reference number, order number, store number, item number and CCTV (accumulated in nanoseconds) at their disposal.  Within minutes I have received notification that the Customer Service Investigators (CSI - see what I did there!) has resolved my issue and that a replacement is on the way along with video footage of the greasy haired prepubescent cretin who caused me to write a complaint being given a public bollocking before being frogmarched out of the store with his p45 in hand!  Never happens though does it!  It's more likely that you'll get an over worded formal (and now pretty standard) version of 'Tough Shit!' That's if you get any response at all.

'Terms and Conditions' - Designed to be millions of pages of size 2 font constructed in such a way so that 99.9% of consumers will be discouraged from reading them (how many of you have simply clicked 'I agree' button at the bottom without checking the T&C first?).  For all you know they could have written that on the third Friday of every month five clowns will descend on your doorstep to pillage your knicker drawer of your finest undergarments and charge you for the privilege.  But you can bet your granny pants that somewhere, sandwiched in the deepest realms of their alleged watertight alibi there will be the phrase 'Your statutory rights are not affected'  Ah ha! a lifeline!  The best explanation of this phrase that I have found is as follows:

"You often see signs in shops at the counter which say ‘this does not affect your statutory rights’. But what does this mean? What we are talking about here are the legal obligations of retailers and suppliers to protect consumers from fraud, poor quality, misrepresentation or economic loss. The sale of goods is subject to the inclusion of these statutory rights (or terms), whether or not a written contract exists and whether or not they are specifically mentioned at any stage. Any attempt to mislead you or deny you of them is illegal!"

(http://whatconsumer.co.uk/what-are-my-statutory-rights/)

I strongly advise UK residents to read this (and the equivalent document for non-UK residents).  It summarises the key points in The Sale of Goods Act 1979 (http://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/1979/54).  

Recently I undertook a mission (one of my many missions) on behalf of my mum who was having difficulties obtaining a replacement for a faulty item that had been delivered the day before she made her initial complaint.  My mum had splashed out a small fortune on one of those swing/climbing frame/slide/treehouse combinations for her growing brood of grandchildren.  One of the extras she had paid for was a baby swing for my 8 month old son.  When the item arrived it was packaged in layers and layers of plastic packaging.  The heavily accented foreign driver had thrusted the delivery sheet at my mum, demanded a signature, entered the property and dumped the items before quickly driving off.  After sending an e-mail to the supplier she got the following response from customer services 'you signed the form saying that you checked the item therefore we will not replace it, however feel free to purchase another one'.  My mum replied that she had signed for delivery only and they replied that she had 'ticked the box' to say she had checked the items.  'Ah ha I exclaim again! You see in this country the burden of proof is always on the prosecutor (i.e. the supplier in this instance) they have to collect the evidence and bring the case, the onus is never on the defendant (i.e. my mum) to prove her innocence.  In my opinion a 'tick' is not proof of anything, a 'tick' can be administered by anyone.  However they were adamant that they were covered legally and had not abused mums consumer rights.  They even stated the following "This must end our correspondence on this issue as we have given you a reasonable answer. Please note we will not reply on this issue further".  Well Joolz QC was on the case, it was now my turn to play prosecutor, and if I was going to take them down I was going to do it in style! I obtained detailed pictures of the fault, I trawled the internet researching my consumer rights, I located the registration information for the supplier and noted down their primary address and their registered address and I found out who their managing director was and details of any shareholders.   I even read their epic terms and conditions.  I called Citizens Advice Bureau (CAB), who automatically has to report them to trading standards (TS) and I sent the supplier one of my strongly worded letters which included the following:

a) the issue behind the complaint

b) facts of the purchase

c) details regarding the correspondence to date including copies of the e-mails sent by customer services     

d) events surrounding the delivery and any witnesses that were present when the item was opened.  I also put in a brief concern about their quality control and the potential health and safety implications of their products 

e) a paragraph about how their own driver violated their own terms and conditions by entering the property when he was only insured to deliver kerbside, therefore invalidating their insurance and possibly the terms and conditions as a whole ... oh and that mum had CCTV to prove this

f) 'the kick in the nuts' - quoting the Sale of Goods Act 1979 that their item was not fit for purpose, that they are duty bound to offer a repair/replacement/refund and that any item that develops a fault in the first 6 months of purchase is deemed to have had that fault at the time of purchase and a repair/replacement/refund must be offered (irrespective of whether a note that the item had been checked by the customer is in existence).  The failure of the company to acknowledge mums consumer rights was in fact an illegal offence contrary to the Act mentioned. 

g) an annex including pictures of the fault

h) a final comment that CAB and TS had been notified.

I made two copies of this document and sent them by recorded delivery to the Managing Director at two addresses found online.  We received a replacement and an apology (although phrased as a 'goodwill gesture') within a week ... which was broken.  I contacted them again and received a replacement within a few days without question.  

We are in an economic crisis, food costs and bills are going through the roof as our salaries stagnate below inflation.  Do bullyboy companies think we are going to lie down and take being ripped off and conned out of the few pennies we have left.  They use pseudo-polite threats to scare you away from ensuring they stand by their legal obligations.  Now there are some companies, normally small ones, who do slip by the wayside but do not let their incompetence be confused with criminality. 

So to anyone branded with the job title 'Customer Services' beware my wrath, you will not be free from my quest for consumer justice until I am pushing up flowers with my army of worms!! 

Joolz x

Good Advice, Bad Advice

Ok my blog title is 'In My Experience ...' and although this subject isn't technically directly related to any experience I have had I feel that it's important (and ridiculous) enough to make it a topic of discussion.  So today I shall be blogging about 'giving advice/advice columns', in particular those that advise on self inflicted situations.  Now I have had my fair share of girls and boys crying on my shoulder about one thing or another, normally about the other sex and normally instigated by funny flavoured water from the Devils cup of woe.  Obviously I am a good friend and I tell people what they want to hear: 'You deserve better', 'Your day will come', 'I saw their new girlfriend and she's soooo ugly' etc.  Even if you know that your mate was dumped because he/she was calling the other half 10 times an hour and had to be surgically removed from his/her side every time he/she stepped outside their front door you can not tell them that ... the rules are clearly outlined in the code of friendship dammit!! 

So what about strangers?  If a stranger came up to you and said "I just got served divorce papers because I slept with my wife's younger sister" what would you say?  No doubt if you are a woman you would probably say something like "serves you right you skirt chasing, cradle snatching scumbag, I hope your willy falls off!".  If you are a man you'd probably say "tough luck!" with an added pat on the back and a swift move to the other end of the bar, or (if like some men I know) you'd laugh and say "Nice One!" and buy him a celebratory pint before making the swift move to the other side of the bar.  One thing you probably won't do, unless outrageously drunk, is sit with them and discuss the merits of counselling and various other expensive and nonsensical suggestions.  So what about the advice given to strangers through our media outlets?

I have chosen the latest examples from probably the most well known advice columnist in the history of the UK.  I know this would be an admission to reading this type of tabloid but hey sometimes I like low-brow, especially when my mind has been melted by 8 hours of toddler conversation.  I will tell you that 10 years ago I obtained inside information, a rumour, that the famous columnist wasn't the person writing the replies to these lustful lovelorn beings .... nooo the columnist had an army of happy helpers, some of which do the overtime and write the pitiful stories in the first place! Even worse was that one of the happy helpers managed to wrangle it so that her son (my source) and his girlfriend could star in one of their semi-naked photo-problems ... why would you do that!!! 

Example 1: 'I still love my jealous ex and have been sleeping with her behind her new boyfriends back, but whilst I was being faithful on a stag do they were having it away like rabbits and now I am heartbroken' 
Advice:  Don’t become the other man. Tell her that if she cares she has to choose ... and then something about the ex being manipulative and that a leaflet about coping with jealousy is being sent to the writer.
My Advice:  You are a gullible fool who's being played like piano in a cocktail bar.  Move on.  Well done for keeping your wang in it's wallet during a weekend of temptation, maybe there is hope for you afterall. 

Example 2: 'My wife caught me at it in the back seat of the car with her 21 yr old niece and now my wife has left me'                      
Advice: Evils of drink, loads have done something regrettable, can your marriage be repaired, ask for forgiveness and say you were flattered by the attention and read a leaflet about coping with cheating.
My Advice: You are an idiot and she is unlikely to take you back.  I mean can you imagine the scene at every family occassion "ahh [to the husband] I think you may remember [niece] from her 21st birthday party, from what I heard you share a common interest in automotive interiors rah rah rah!"

Example 3: 'After cheating bullyboy of a husband brought home his latest conquest after a night out with the lads I filed for divorce but now my inner demon has appeared and I slept with seven men in 48 hours and I feel like a prostitute'
Advice: Some psychology about no-strings sex preventing the writer from being hurt again, learning to love yourself and a suggestion to read a leaflet about being hooked on casual sex.
My Advice: Whoa!  get yourself down to the local sexual health clinic pronto!  If you are going to go through men like a pack of Pringles have the decency to protect the sisterhood who come across these men long after you've had your wicked way!  Oh and unless your are exchanging your services for pocket money you are not a prostitute just a common slapper. 

OK so maybe I wouldn't make the best advice columnist in the world, in fact I would probably have my arse (that's ass for you Americans out there) sued with more frequency then  a picture of a semi-naked woman on the phone being featured in the column mentioned above!  Can you imagine if I was a negotiator in a crisis!: (them)"I'm gonna jump, I mean it" (me)"don't do it, it's not the only answer ... but if you are certain it's the only option in your life at the moment can you wait 5 minutes so that I can move my car?".   

I have read columns from other media sources and none really match the same level on the silly-scale.  It's like an episode of EastEnders (non-English people think of your most depressing soap opera where everyone dies, leaves or gets happily married before suffering some tragic fate) a bit of a light hearted look into the suffering of others to make our lives seem a hell of a lot better. 

Another source of advice I have come across recently is in the form of blogs (sort of like this one).  I have laughed hysterically at some young men telling their friends how to get the girl of their dreams by using the tried and tested 'treat them mean and keep them keen' method, only with the added aspect of the blog being lost in translation and coming across as a psychopaths guide on how to emotionally destroy the object of their affections, lead them into a false sense of security and then make them a slave to their every whim ... actually if this is not a translation error then maybe I should report them!! 

So what is the correct way to dish out advice?  Shall we sugar-coat the truth to protect our pals from admitting something they probably, deep down, already know?  Should we be more sympathetic towards the stranger at the end of the bar drowning their sorrows in a pint of Bishops's Finger?  Or maybe ripping off the plaster quickly is the kindest option because it removes the cruel hope that lingers every time someone says things like "he'll/she'll come around" when we know that he/she is already talking marriage with their newest squeeze.  I am also sceptical about how useful these advice columns are.  Do they really think a relationship can survive a worst case scenario by getting both parties to sit down together in the same room without shouting, belittling and throwing heavy items and read a leaflet!!

Maybe one day it will be me who writes into an advice column:  "No one wants to be my friend because .... 1) when they ask if an outfit makes them look fat and it I does I tell them so: 2) when male friends ask me why they can't get girls I tell them it's because they have the sexual charisma of a slug: 3) when a girly friend asks why their ex doesn't like them anymore I say it's probably because [my friend] is sitting here looking like a melted Kiss waxwork and he's over there getting pounced on by a younger slimmer blonde with bigger boobs" 
  
Maybe honesty is not the way forward! 

Yours Faithfully, Joolz x

A bit of all-Wight!

Sooooooo last weekend the four of us had our first family holiday.  We travelled to the Isle of Wight for 4 days.  Bobs had been on at us about going on a boat since nanny told her about her cruise.  Well we didn't have the pennies to book the kind of holiday nanny has become accustomed to, but a good friend of ours happened to have a spare holiday going so they sold it to us AND it involved a boat ride RESULT!!   So with everything packed and a tinge of excitement growing inside everyone we headed off on our big island adventure ...

... half an hour into our journey came the familiar cry of 'I'm hungry' so we stopped off for what will now be our traditional 'holiday' porridge, bacon sarnie and coffee journey break.  For the first time I noticed Bobs bubbling over with anticipation.  She understood what a holiday meant and she was enjoying every second of it.  DJ just wanted food.  When we arrived at Southampton docks we were an hour early so they bumped us onto the earlier ferry.   We loaded on our car and made our way to the passenger deck.  The kids took pole position at the front, with DJ banging the glass window furiously, and we set off. It was such a smooth ride that I had a job convincing Bobs that we were in fact moving.  Another first was witnessing DJ have his first bromance with a one year old boy called Harrison ..... dude!!

Sailing into East Cowes was a spectacular site.  The sun was breaking through, the sea had a sprinkling of small boats and windsurfers and the coast was lined with quaint and colourful buildings.

Sailing into East Cowes

We were booked into the Whitecliffe Holiday Park in Bembridge (http://www.wight-holidays.com/).  We did not know what to expect as the holiday had originally been one of those Sun newspaper offers.  A few days before we had the opportunity to upgrade to one of the new caravans ... so we thought 'why not? and so we did!  Travelling from East Cowes to Bembridge was slightly stressful as JB had started the route planner from Cowes (not East Cowes) but it seems all roads lead to Bembridge and we were at our destination before we knew it.  In the next few days it became apparent to us that everywhere was easy to get to because the road system is so simple and straight forward.  I don't think we hit any traffic at all and we never got lost! 

'Bear in the Woods'

After we arrived at the holiday park and had checked in we decided to pop over to the bar (like you do).   Bobs went hyper - she wanted to play on the climbing frame, she wanted to go swimming and damn it even though she had no idea what crazy golf was she wanted to play it - and she wanted to do it all at that very moment!  I had to laugh because it stirred a memory long forgotten of me and my brother behaving the same way when we were little.  DJ just wanted food.  After getting Bobs down from the ceiling we had some lunch and then settled into our luxury caravan.  A quick swim, some dinner and it was time for the evening entertainment.  The club area was huge and housed a bar, arcade and diner.  'Cash Bingo' as an after dinner event, 'Bear In The Woods' act for the little children, 'Play on Stage' for the whole family, dancing the Macarena and other bum shaking tunes for the now-juiced-mums and a fairly decent cabaret act and disco until the last man standing.  The sort of holiday that memories are made of.

We were quite surprised by the quality of the caravan.  It was an 8 berth (6 comfortably) and had showers and heating throughout.  It was like a little home away from home.




So what has Isle of Wight have to offer.  If you pick up the tourist magazine on the ferry you will see there is lots for every type of person.  Beautiful villages, sandy beaches, animals, history and craft workshops.  On one warm sunny day we took the children to the Sandown Pier where we made sandcastles, ran away from the waves as they rolled onto the sand, ate cheesy chips and ice cream (not together! ... well DJ did - all he wanted was food!), had a wander around the arcades and souvenir shops and played in the park nearby.  It was a lovely day for many reasons.  One thing I noticed (because I come from a seaside town myself) was that for one of the Islands main beaches it was extremely clean.  The pavements and beach were spotless.  Not a single cigarette butt, can, bottle, sweetie wrapper, ground in chewing gum in sight.  

                

The next day we travelled for about 30-40 minutes to the south of the Island to the historically famous Blackgang Chine.  For those who are unfamiliar with the story Blackgang Chine is/was a coastal ravine  stretching just short of a mile down to the shoreline and was rumoured to be rife with smugglers back in the day.  In 1843 the Dabell family took advantage of the new tourist trade and opened the Blackgang Chine amusement park, one of the UK's first amusement parks.  Since this time the cliffs have eroded and large landslides have destroyed pretty much all of the ravine including pathways, houses and a lot of the original amusement park.  The most recent landslide was in 1994.  However the Dabell family rebuilt most of the park a bit further inland after being assured the cliff was now more stable.  This park is more suitable for young children because even though there are a couple of adult attractions I doubt it would cater for the entertainment needs of older children (teens).  It has a small variety of food outlets, which was good because DJ frequently wanted was food!

A-maze-ing place for small children

Disappearing village

The next day we went to the Amazon zoo, which was small but amused the children for a few hours.  They have a little cafe, nothing fancy, which was good because DJ .... well you know the rest!.  If they spent some money bringing the play park area up to scratch I would give this a good score - good entertainment for half a day at best (watch out for the psychotic chicken that roam free!)

So overall for a first family holiday I would give it 8/10: 9/10 for the experience and 7/10 for having the children there (nightmare journey home, we were 'that family').  If I had gone without the children I would have taken a tour around Osborne House, Carisbrook Castle and the Needles for a more mature experience.  But seeing the look on my little ones faces when they discovered something new and exciting was priceless, a treasured memory.  I therefore give Isle of Wight a big thumbs up and suggest if you are looking for a family first I would definitely recommend this little English treasure. 

Bon Voyage, Joolz x 

Saying Goodbye ....

Tired, emotionally exhausted, under appreciated, taken for granted, lack enthusiasm, have a bad case of the 'I hate Mondays'?  Does this sound like you?  Well it sounds like you may be one of the rare few that hate their jobs.  LOL what on earth am I talking about EVERYONE hates their jobs! Right?

Well I'm not really sure if everyone really really hates their job.  I know people that hate having to work as it interferes with ..... well life really.  The majority will have to get up early and plod on like a mindless robots, doing the same thing day after day.  We all know the saying 'work to live not live to work', possibly not the best work ethic but fundamentally true.  I think that there are very few jobs out there that don't become mundane after a while.  Take for example Ben Southall who beat 35,000 applicants from 200 countries to become 'Caretaker to the Islands' on the Great Barrier Reef, 'The Best Job in the World'.  Idealic location, 5 star accommodation  jet skiing and diving.  Even with all this Ben says he is exhausted by the long hours and strong work ethic ... and he nearly died when a dangerous jellyfish stung him (cite: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2134388/Ben-Southall-What-happened-man-got-best-job-caretaker-Hamilton-Island.html)  I normally give a new job 6 months before I decide how I feel about it.  In the first 6 months you are caught up with learning all the new stuff, getting to know people and settling in with your new (and usually better) salary.  After 6 months you are no longer the new person, you know by now who the back stabbers are and you are probably looking out for promotions and more money .... 'tis the route of all evil you know *wink*.  

However what happens if you really really hate your job.  Case and point:  I have 'a friend' who had been at a certain level of the work hierarchy for a number of years, but for a few years they were made to take on some of the responsibilities of someone at a higher level without ever being given the pay or formal recognition for it.  Is this a common occurance in the work place? Has this happened to you or anyone you know?  It's awful isn't it.  To the company it's thinking smart ... same results but for less money.  For the employee it's a slow decent into an endless spiral of bitterness and self-doubt.  The company will say 'it's just business' and 'every penny counts' but what these business' fail to comprehend is that a good employee is the most valuable asset they can ever have.  Failure to nurture your staff will result in poor quality results, bad work environment and ultimately espionage when employees walk away with all your secrets and client base!!!!! 

And then there's the health of the employee.  Depression, anxiety, long periods of sickness absence, stress etc etc.  In my (historical) experience this is what can happen in the work place:

1) poor management skills i.e. manager swears at employee, insults their personal life and sometimes doesn't allow them lunch breaks (true story)

2) employee becomes line manager and in retaliation for their own harsh treatment dishes out the same to their subordinates

3) subordinates dish out the same treatment to new members of staff.

4) bad work environment ensues and only the managers 'pub going workmates' get promoted to 'team leader' (also true story) whilst those who don't may start to show symptoms mentioned above.

5) stressed/depressed employees are 'pulled up' for their negative attitudes.  Line manager decides to use stressed/depressed employee as a training tool to teach said 'pub going workmate team leaders' how to criticise and reprimand someone using the infamous 'sandwich method' and other tools designed for maximum public humiliation (oh yes this is also a true story).

6) stressed/depressed employee snaps and goes postal! 

BUT WAIT!!! It doesn't have to end like this (even though some of us have frequent dreams of such a moment).  You may have worked for this job, you may have been there years trying to prove your worth but quitting is not a sign of weakness.  Moving on is the ultimate 'up yours'.  Let the others rip each other to shreds you are off to pastures new.  

So your confidence may be low and you don't like interviews, here are my tips:

1) Go higher.  You have the experience so go for a better position.

2) Do not fear rejection.  You still have a job so you have nothing to lose.  You may get 9 rejections and 1 interview out of every 10 applications.  This does not mean you're not good enough (in some cases jobs are given to internal applicants, applying externally is just a formality).

3) Research the company, look at their statistics and client base.  Be prepared!

4) Listen to your interviewer and ask questions about their company and the work environment.  Look impressed, if they are in the midst of a merger ask how it's going.  Once you have developed a rapport be a bit bolder and tell them what you are after in a prospective company.  Yes they are interviewing YOU but subtly give them the impression that you are interviewing THEM .... Do they deserve you (because basically you're fantastic aren't you).  

5) Do not mention the actual reason for why you want to leave.  Say that you feel that you have contributed all you can within the boundaries of your present company and are looking for a more exciting venture in an up and coming company (flattery will get you anywhere)

6) If they ask you what salary you are on at the moment say something like "well my salary is under review as I have just been appraised and under consideration for a performance related promotion" Tell them the starting salary you would be interested in.  They will haggle you on this so think of a reasonable salary you would be happy with then add a few grand - inform them you are open to negotiation *wink, wink*.

7) When you get the job walk around like the cat that got the cream for the remainder of your old contract.  Ignore the sarcastic comments and work on getting your groove back! 

Move around if you want to.  Those younger, richer manager types get to be so by changing jobs every few years and selling themselves to the highest bidder (because they know they are fantastic!)  You don't even need to change jobs again because horizontal moves can be just as beneficial as vertical moves and quicker then an external move.  Do what JB did and get chatting to another manager in the tea room, you'll be surprised at what doors can be opened from the simple act of sharing a pack of Hob Nobs.  

So this is my quick fix guide to overcoming a case of 'myjobsucksdonkeynuts'.  You can go from runt of the litter to cream of the crop in a few easy steps.  My last piece of advice is do not take anything personally, work is a stage and we are all actors and all fighting to get top billing.

Go forth and conquer, I'll meet you at the top!

Joolz x

Reasoning with the Unreasonable

What is it with children?  You can't get them to see sense at all.  Forget trying to explain anything to them because when they have an idea in their mind there is no persuading them otherwise ... they are so unreasonable!  

Maybe this is my fault for not doing what was advised and develop a strict routine from an early age.  Well you see I can't live by a routine because I like spontaneity and to put my kids in a routine would be putting myself in a routine.  They go to bed at a reasonable time, between 6 and 7.30 depending on how tired they are and they eat their dinner between 3 and 5 depending on what we are doing.  The advantage to this is they don't start screaming at a  specific time for food, which is handy if we are stuck in traffic, or visiting relatives for example.  In a nutshell not being in a strict routine makes them a bit more flexible and gives JB and I a bit more time to get stuff prepared before chaos erupts.  Maybe developing a strict routine was more about softly asserting discipline rather then making life easier for the kiddiwinks (and us) .... in hindsight maybe it wouldn't have hurt to have picked up a baby book at some point over the last 3 years.  

So getting back to the point, reasoning with unreasonable children, focussing particularly on the baby and toddler groupings.  During my A-levels I once reasoned my way from a C grade to an A grade, I have reasoned with retailers using my knowledge of consumer rights and I can stick it to overbearing colleagues with my knowledge on employee rights and dispute mitigation.  However, I can not find any solution to the problem of reasoning with a child!! Even when confronted with round 2 of the same issues I had with the first child I have still not found a solution.  Now some of you are probably thinking 'what sort of idiot tries to reason with an infant?'  Well to be frank - me, it's in my nature to be argumentative.  Maybe a few case studies will help explain things better:

1) Those are YOUR toys, these my MY toys!  

- I remember when the Bobster first started moving about.  She had been bought an army of toys of every description from family members.  Fun toys, soft toys, noisy toys, learning toys, colourful toys and toys designed to be bashed to hell and back without breaking.  You think this would have kept her happy but no.  Her main interests were cables, our books, our DVD's, daddy's game cases, the contents of our bedroom drawers and the button that made the DVD/computer disc drive open.  As she got older she had progressed to amateur computer hacking through keyboard bashing and redecorating our bedroom using my new nail polish.  No amount of discussions or trips to the naughty corner would stop her from causing chaos.  Now DJ has started moving and we are going through the same issue with the same objects.  Books are flung off the shelves, cables are pulled out, game cases are removed and stomped on .... the nail varnish is now locked in a secure location.  Whenever he see's me with my glasses on or with the laptop he charges at me with a burning fire in his eyes before letting out a battle cry and throwing himself at the item of his desire [picture me jumping out of the way 'bodyguard style' protecting my belongings as the little ankle biter latches onto my leg].  The only interest they have in their own toys is if the other child has hold of them *sigh*.

'The Cage of Tranquillity'

2) Don't you know there are starving children in the world!

- Bobster talks CONSTANTLY! Recently she has started to introduce "I want I want!!" The phrase is sending me to the madhouse.  Not just because it grinds on me like a dog that never stops barking but because it's mostly food she wants ..... food she refuses to eat once she's got it.  This is a recent problem for us.  When she wakes up it's "Mummy i'm hungry I want ..." so I give her breakfast and I then get "I don't want it".  Shortly after this I start to get repeat requests for a snack.  Finally at 11am when the pounding in my head becomes unbearable I relent ... and then she doesn't eat the snack.  The same happens with lunch, and dinner.  She sometimes nibbles the food but she won't eat a lot of it.    I caught her sneaking some of her food to her little brother who's a tubby little baby sized waste disposal unit.  I have tried talking to her and she has 'pinky promised' me that if I give her food she will eat it .... to no avail.  

3) Because I said so!

- Ooh this is a common one.  Both babies are guilty of this.  I could say that DJ is innocent due to his age but the look in his eyes when I tell him off communicates to me that he understands ... but he's going to do it anyway!  Bobster is at the 'Why mummy?' stage.  It starts when one warning or instruction from me is followed by a simple question from the mini quizmaster "Why?".  This conversation could go on for an eternity because the reply to any answer I give is predictably "Why?"  Inevitably the final answer from me will be "because I said so!" .... to which my angel looks at me sweetly and says "Why?".

4) Cartoons have a lot to answer for!

- My daughter is extremely cheeky.  If I tell her "No" her reply is "Don't say no say yes!" and if I tell her off she says "All you say are words, you go blah blah blah!" - both phrases from popular cartoons that she has memorised for her own agenda.  Then there's the cartoon songs that she sings that get stuck in my head because they are so damn chirpy and catchy ... and incredibly annoying!.  I could turn the TV off completely but then I'd have to entertain them for 9 hours myself and the house would fall apart around me.  

5) No please don't say THAT word! 

- Yeah we've all done it even if you won't admit it, we've all dropped the swearbomb.  The first time I realised the consequences of our verbal behaviour was the day Bobs dropped something in her bath and said "oh shit!", she was not far past her 2nd birthday.  The next occasion came six months later when she started referring to her little brother as a "noisy little bugger".  Within minutes of JB and I having a discussion regarding how we should watch what we say in front of the kids our dog Bella barked loudly in his ear and he firmly told our pooch to "F*** Off!", which was then inevitably followed by Bobster repeating 'cough Bella, cough Bella".  How do we tell a toddler not to say certain words when she won't accept the reasoning that it's only words grown ups use?  Well I tried and her answer was "Why?"

6) For the love of jebus GO TO BED!

- Please refer to the following link it explains everything:

'Go The F*** To Sleep' read by Samuel L Jackson

May I add that point 6) is mostly responsible for point 5). 

So the battle of wills is ongoing and I'm trying a new approach .... tolerance.  I'll have to accept that I will not always get my own way and that my children are not evil exceptions to the rule, but in fact just two little munchkins behaving like billions of little munchkins past and present.  I'll bide my time until they have their own children and then laugh my arse off when this happens to them ...... pretty much like MY parents are doing to me right now!    

'The Lesson' by Bobs

 Joolz x

Home is Where the Heartache is ...

... and the backache!

We've all been there.  Young, penniless and dreaming of the day when we finally can afford a place to call our own.  I did the Uni thing and got the job of my dreams only to be bitterly disappointed that the pay was so poor and the hope of ever rising through the ranks was equally as disheartening.  'Stuck in a rut', as some people put it, my dreams of owning a pretty little house in a quaint little rural village were as realistic as suddenly being promoted to CEO or winning the lottery (which I didn't play anyway as I didn't have the money for a ticket).   I was sentenced for an indeterminable amount of time to renting a room from strangers for my crimes ... and boy were some of them strange!  There was the landlady with a unhealthy obsession with Paddington Bear and the landlord who broke up with his partner and played Simon & Garfunkel very loudly, on repeat,  every evening .... for months!

At this time I was going through difficult personal issues and was pretty much all by myself (Eric Carmen singing in my head like my own little life narration).  I went to a nice quack who told me to change one thing in my life and everything else will follow.  So I took up bellydancing (yes stay with me it gets better).  This propelled me from tubby, shy, tearful little recluse to fit and confident super woman that people wanted to be around (Eric Carmen being replaced with Meredith Brooks in the mind of this protagonist).  This made me noticeable to some of my colleagues who in turn offered me a much better living arrangement.  One of these 'roomies' had a birthday, which was organised into a big house party.  In passing I invited my friend JB, who turned up with lots of wine, which caused me to perform some of my famous bellydancing routines much to JB's amusement.  This was the start of Joolz and JB.  The convenient thing was JB already owned a flat.  I moved in, we were married within 18 months .... and BAM! I was a homeowner.  

To have and to hold .... the deeds!

You may now think of me as a shrewd money grabbing gold-digger.  Well shrewd yes, but as JB worked at the same place I did the rest of the description is a mute point.  As happy as we were the little flat was not my dream house, our dream house, no go back to MY dream house because JB would have been happy living in the flat until the sun burnt out.  

Two years later and two new, better paid jobs later (one for each of us) we decided to look into buying a house.  The problem was that the UK had just nosedived into an economic crisis, we were at the start of a recession and house prices had fallen.  Now if you weren't planning on moving and had entered into one of those dodgy looking Tracker mortgages you were laughing all the way to the 'now quietly sobbing into their cheap beer' bank.  Our present (tracker) mortgage had gone from £900 per month to £200 per month and was decreasing monthly.  Whereas before we found it near impossible to find a steady fixed rate mortgage we could now find them everywhere at an extortionate 7-8% APR on average (suddenly the Tracker mortgage that the banks had told millions were there best option were now unavailable)  Compared to our less then 1% APR mortgage making a move at that time could have been a costly mistake.  Then there was selling the flat.  The flat price had fallen to what it was when it was bought in 2006.  We decided to go for it.  The flat was jointly owned with JB's little brother so we passed over this 'financial gift' to him and his family to live in return for the freedom to pay over the odds for 'The Dream'.  

Many would say I'm meticulous when my head is in the game.  I knew what I wanted and I wasn't going to settle ........ knowingly.  We must have looked at over 60 brochures and seen 30 houses.  With each one we gave an in depth review back to the estate agent.   I was pretty chuffed when JB was told by the estate agent that we gave the most detailed feedback .... ever!  We were given an initial estimated borrowing figure of £220,000 with a 10% deposit.  This was enough to afford one of the lower end nice houses in the nice areas.  When we came to appointing a financial adviser we discovered that the banks were no longer lending as much.  The figure had been reduced to £180,000 with £15% deposit.  This now severely reduced our options, which were now 1) small house with small garden and on-road parking in nice-ish area, or 2) dilapidated old house in 'up and coming family area' with good sized unkempt garden and off-road parking.  Due to my background of living in building sites I persuaded JB to go for option 2.

Browsing through the local rag I came across a sweet looking little bungalow for sale.   At the viewing I noticed how uncared for this house was.  One of the last bungalows in the street that hadn't been built up and ripped in half to make two houses.  Dwarfed by it's neighbours it reminded me of a Disney cartoon I used to watch as a kid called the 'Little House'

Walt Disney's 'The Little House' (1952)

I needed to save this little bungalow, bring it back to life.  With off road parking and a large garden it had potential which I wanted it to fulfil.  Looking back at that moment I may have been inspired by too many episodes of 'Homes Under The Hammer' because ambition and reality are two different things! 

After moving day it soon became apparent that the previous owner was a callous and evil cow. Firstly, she made me (3 months pregnant - yes she knew) and JB sleep in a grotty motel for 2 weeks, even though the house was empty, because she wanted to store her sons cars on the driveway for a bit.  Secondly, she had obviously limited her elderly mother into the use of only 3 rooms so she could store all her and her sons crap for months on end (he was selling his house opposite).  The history is a complicated one, told by neighbours.  Her mother was a gentle frail lady in her 90's who died a few months before the house came up for sale.  Her grandson was an electrician with a client base of multiple commercial companies.  The woman who sold us the house was a domineering local busybody with an agenda.  Upon looking at the house in finer detail this is what we found:

a) Most of the windows were single glazed apart from those visible to passers by
b) The house was freezing and the central heating system was a mystery wrapped in an enigma (if we turned it off at the timer the radiator in the hallway was still boiling hot and if we turned off all the radiators individually water leaked through the kitchen ceiling - also, the timer was in the loft)
c) Even though there was an electrician in the previous family the wiring was a death trap (as one British Gas electrician 'shockingly' discovered - although he didn't want to say anything because he thought we did it!), the gas and water pipes were not earthed and in the one cold bedroom the old lady was confined to a dodgy looking mains cable was shooting up from the floor and connected to a dodgy circuit box, which blew frequently (but it was ok because the previous owners had put a curtain across it - ??) 
d) The chimneys were dangerous and had to be removed.  This caused me some distress as they went through two rooms each and all that dust meant I had to move back with my parents for 3 weeks!!  
e) The 'new kitchen' was a half arsed attempt because the walls were partially skimmed and painted over, the cupboards didn't have any back boards (revealing brick - no plaster) and the tiling under the cupboards was halted where your eye line fell.  There were boards missing and we eventually got a rat in the kitchen - I called him Sir Squeaksalot.  
f) You can move the garage wall if you lean on it.
g) The bath had no shower just a plastic attachment.  It was near impossible to get the water at the right temperature and there was little pressure.  The old lady would have either had to have a freezing 'shower' or a scolding hot one. 
f) Sections of the garden revealed that the previous owners had buried large quantities of rubble such as glass, cement and asbestos.  
g)  90% of the ceilings had polystyrene tiles - a serious fire spreading hazard.
h) The bathroom window was single glazed and someone had just painted over the rotten wood.

This is all I can remember at this moment but I know there was more.  Neighbours say the previous owner treated her mother appallingly and it showed in the house that was left behind.  The previous owner also failed to notify us that one of our neighbours had been given planning permission to build 4 two storey houses which would overlook our garden.  These plans did not come up on the online public records (conspiracy) in 2009 and our solicitor was unaware of it (negligence).  The previous owner DID know about it as further investigations revealed she had sent two letters of complaint to the council (unfortunately this did not all come to light until the neighbours began building in 2011).  Well karma got her in the end as she died suddenly, 6 months after taking our money.

So after 3 years, 1 huge renovation, 1 mains cable moved, 1 completely new boiler system, 2 less chimneys, 1 almost dead electrician, 2 confused plumbers, 3 large skips, 1 new bathroom window,  1 new alarm system, 4 less overgrown trees, 100 tins of paint, a ton of backbreaking labour and about £20K invested our house still looks nothing like the polished houses on the TV. I wasn't expecting 'Grand Designs' but I wasn't expecting to bring into the world two tiny monsters hell bent on destruction.  The other big surprise was 'the up and coming family area' is actually a quaint little road surrounded by old and overpopulated run down council housing from every decade.  Strange thing was on my first day working in the courts we had a murder trial ongoing where the victim lived two roads away from me and she was murdered ten minutes from my house ..... great area!  Estate agents call my road the 'nice part of [sub-district of Reading]'

Ah well!  This is a lesson learnt:  TV LIES!!!  Well for our part the lesson is that you have to be a certain type of person to take on such a responsibility.  How my dad did it all by himself for 20 years I do not know.  After 3 years I have had enough, I can't keep up with the effect of the passing of time on this place.  We fix one thing and something else crumbles.  Recently I spent a lot of time carefully redecorating and tiling the bathroom, making sure that the room was a haven of peace and tranquillity ...... and two months after making everything perfect I fell through the bath!!  

For now we'll just stick to carving out the shell of our home until the children leave and then we can redecorate our little house to showroom standard ....... just in time for the grandkiddies arrival - *sigh*.    

Sayonana, Joolz x

p.s. sorry for the time-gap between blogs.  I was caught up in the Olympics and then had a week come-down from the Olympics where I was losing the will to network but then I remembered the Paralympics starts next week so I am all happy and bloggy again :) x

Olympic Dreams

Faster, Higher, Stronger

Well it's finally here, 7 years of planning, building, organising and training.  We've followed the politics, dramas and scandals and stood in the rain as thousands of our own citizens ran their little hearts out as they carried the Olympic torch through our mighty towns and cities.  It's been a long controversial road.  Which side have you stood on?  Are you one of those who hissed and fretted as billions of taxpayers money was spent building arena's and villages to accommodate the worlds athletic elite when the country has been deep in financial crisis - throwing many British man into homelessness and financial ruin?  Or have you been one of those championing the cause, following the heats & selections and praising the wearers of the red, white and blue with a tear in your eye and a lump in your throat?  What does the Olympics mean to you?

Again my general nosey nature had me trawling through the comments section of various daily news sites over the years and let me tell you there are some very angry people out there.  Now it is my general opinion that only the very angry and the morally richeous comment on these articles, those that are content do not need or want to comment.  In my opinion this is why most articles appear to stir a general bias from the public, and it's usually negative.  'For the love of money is the route of all evil' said the first Epistle to Timothy (New Testament 6:10) is a phrase I am familiar with and it seems those without it begrudge those with it - How many of you go on about spoilt, rich celebs but still buy a lottery ticket every week???? The same applies to our government and it's financial investments.  We, the general public, see our taxes being spent on the work-shy, those oversee's and the bailing out of irresponsible banks ... whilst we are pushed and shoved and squeezed deeper into debt.  So I can see how spending a bloody massive fortune on 'a sporting event' can cause the fire and fury of a thousand hells to rise from within the masses.

And now I am going to tell you why I love the Olympics, and why I love that Great Britain is hosting it.  I never felt much towards the building of the Olympic arena's even though both I and my father have been part of their construction, although I can tell you that at least two landfill sites were used as locations and therefore improving the area aesthetics, which has to be a good thing ... right?  However the full force of why the Olympics is important to me didn't register until I watched the torch arrive at Lands End from Athens from which I felt a sense of national pride unlike any I have felt before.  I followed the torch on it's journey and saw all those people being cheered on by their communities.  Hearing the stories about how many of these torch bearers have overcome personal and physical mountains, and about those who have gone over and above the call of duty to help those in need made my heart swell.  I took the mini bojangles' to see the torch relay in our town and I'm glad I went.

So here it is, BBC 8.59pm on the 27th July 2012 and the final countdown has begun to the biggest show I will ever see.  The music starts up and images of Britain are thrown at us through our TV screens ... it's message is clear 'We ARE Britain, this is OUR day and this is what makes us  GREAT!'  The film clip scoots around London to iconic sounds such as the The Who, The Clash and the EastEnders theme tune.  Yes world! London is calling so pick up because we're not leaving a message after the tone.  


Industrial revolution, pearly kings and queens, Chelsea pensioners, the NHS, London symphony Orchestra, Mr Bean, the digital youth, David Beckham ... the Queen jumping out of a helicopter with 007 - Love it, every single bit of it!   'This is for Everyone' is lit up along the seating area by Tim Berners-Lee and I couldn't have put it better.  You see the Olympics is not about politics or financial gain it's about the people of the world coming together to support their Olympians, to get behind their men and women and show the rest of the world what they are made of.   It's to show our children what real role models look like and inspire them to reach for the stars.  It's to make us feel passion, to forget all the bad stuff and lift our heads and voices together, shouting in unison 'GO TEAM GO!!!'  


Lastly this is for all the athletes, this is for all their work over the many years training for this one moment to shine and make us all proud to be who we are.  My thank you to them will be to support as many of them as I can watch and cheer them on.  


So my dear Welsh buddies, my Scottish pals, my Irish chums and my English mates let us put aside our grievances and join together to celebrate what exactly makes Britain great.  Lets get behind our Olympians and Paralympians.  They are our mighty warriors one and all 

.... LETS HEAR THEM ROAR!!! 

Joolz x 

-For Gemma