Tag Archives: study

TIDE – my week on the Isle of Lewis

9 May

Another belated update for ye.  College is busy at the moment; ugh.  It’s really cutting into my free time.  I actually dusted one of my David Bowie books the other day, which tells you a lot about the state I’m in; not only is my obsession with the great man being starved out of me by other demands on my time, but I was CLEANING.  Which means one thing and one thing only, if you are Imogen Maxwell.  PROCRASTINATION.

And I’m nothing if not a productive procrastinator.  As each deadline stalks me mercilessly, swooping out of the shadows when I quite literally least expect it, I pinball about the house, panic-napping, organising, dusting.

You’d think – once the Bowie library is gleaming and catalogued – I’d be flogging prolifically, whacking up product reviews, creating madcap transformations, inscribing the magna carta on my nails in fancy rainbow colours.  Let’s just say my laptop hasn’t been cooperating …

damn you

damn you

… but I’m here now so let me tell you a beautiful story in pictures.

I was up on the Isle of Lewis at the end of April, ostensibly to do the makeup for a short film being made by Edinburgh College of Art student director Gordon Napier.  Makeup was a minor feature of my week, I must admit, but I did my best to get involved with all there was to do.

I stayed with the lovely lovely cast and crew of 18ish, in a blackhouse village near Carloway.  Blackhouses are for people 3’8″ or under.

where I spent all day bent double, wincing as other people brained themselves on 4-foot thick concrete beams

where I spent all day bent double, wincing as other people brained themselves on 4-foot thick concrete beams

They had been converted into hostel-type accommodation; our lil house had 2 x 6-bed dorms and one (or two?) 2-bed room.  There was a big kitchen and room enough for everyone to have meals together sat at a long table.  There was a living room too with a fire place and couches.

Kitchen wizards Elspeth and Pola, without whom we would have turned cannibal

Kitchen wizards Elspeth and Pola, without whom we would have turned cannibal

Being the backpacker queen that I am, I’m a pretty swift and harsh judge of this type of accommodation, and I was well impressed.

our neighbours

our neighbours

Each day of filming was long, but that ain’t no thang when you’re surrounded by good-natured professionals.

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There were indoor scenes…

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… and hero production designers Lottie and Lola had gone all out in decking that place out, let me tell you.

where did they find this wall art?  Shhh.  Just enjoy.

where did they find this wall art? Shhh. Just enjoy.

baked trout dinner, for throwing to the floor in a rage.

baked trout dinner, for throwing to the floor in a rage.

There were outdoor scenes …

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… but there was no internet.

one itty bitty scrap of 3G in one corner of the set

only one itty bitty scrap of 3G in one corner of the set

Apart from movie-making japery, I was kept entertained by practicing some special effects …

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… and whooping it up at the Callanish standing stones.

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We met the locals…

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… we ate the locals….

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… and we waited around a lot, cos that’s what you do.

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With good company…

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… and perfect weather and scenery….

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… it was a pleasure to be involved 🙂

nothing to see here

nothing to see here

I’m very much looking forward to seeing the finished product, and feel free to head on over to T I D E’s Facebook page to keep on top of updates!

Here’s some unrelated Motley Crue to sing you out.  Don’t forget you can stalk me over on Facebook and Instagram, both of which get a hell of a lot more action than this flog.  Gi’us a wee ‘like’, go on.

Happy Friday, flogstars! xX

is this real life?

12 Sep
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also, how BUFF is my arm? That’s my left arm, too.

Here I am at college, looking pensively out the window, wishing they’d fucking give us some notice for the days we’re having our photo taken so I’d know to spend a bit of time on my hair and makeup.

I’m also reflecting on poor old Miley Cyrus’s makeup in her latest music video – is it MEANT to look terrible?  As if it was hastily applied by someone who had never used liquid liner before?  As if the makeup artist had none of her kit with her that day, and so had to borrow stuff from someone who doesn’t really have any makeup, except for this old mascara sample and lip crayon that came free with a magazine 8 years ago and has been sitting untouched in a desk drawer ever since?

If so, job done, but it still bothers me.  More than her bare arse on that demolition ball.  You don’t want dust there.

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Anyway, enough about Miley, this is imogenmaxwell.com after all.

3 weeks into my course and I can still scarcely believe that Googling pictures of David Bowie and making scrapbooks of makeup pictures is now, officially, what I do.  No longer a slightly eccentric indulgence furtively carried out behind closed doors.  A legitimate passtime.  Positively reinforced by tutors who recognise my ability to Google pictures of David Bowie with unbroken focus for hours on end as sure signs of passion and commitment.

I am in actual heaven.

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Anyway.  What did I do apart from go Bowie-gif-crazy this week, you ask?  Why, more airbrushing, of course.  I only just realised that the eyeshadow, below, I did on Sinead is a little bit inspired by David’s, above.  Interesting.  STOP TALKING ABOUT DAVID BOWIE IMOGEN, NO ONE ELSE CARES.

my patient model Sinead

my patient model Sinead

Airbrushing is a messy little bastard, if you’ve never had the pleasure.  My own jury is still out on the whole business; I mean, I know I’ve only had two shots at it, but I can’t really see the point so far.  It’s messy, it smells weird, you look like a newsreader with it on, it doesn’t come off, it takes longer than normal makeup, and cleaning the gun is a real pain in the can.

see?  MESSY!

see? MESSY!

splotches everywhere from the damn gun spitting!  Ffffffuck!

splotches everywhere from the damn gun spitting! Ffffffuck!

the look now complete with Aunt Sally pink blush

the look now complete with Aunt Sally pink blush

We also did face charts, which is colouring in, but less fun because you’re doing it with makeup that doesn’t stick to paper (if it’s powder) or doesn’t blend properly (if it’s cream).  But kind of cool anyway.  Here’s my first one:

show us yer cheekbones

show us yer cheekbones

So that’s what’s all going on at college, y’all.

Bet you’re wondering what song will accompany today’s flog post.  David Bowie?  Not today.  Not even the Misfits even though I’m wearing my Misfits top in my window portrait up top there.  No, not the Misfits.  Don’t worry, not Miley either.  How about some Korn because it’s a cool video and they’re about to release a new album for the first time in ______ years?

habits I need to break

29 Aug

It’s our two week anniversary, Glasgow.  You’ve given me three new housemates and two job interviews.  You’ve taken me on one date, 19 subway rides and too many trips to MacDonalds.  We’re two weeks into our new life together, Glasgow, and I’m one week into my course.  I know this might be rushing things a bit… but I think you might be the one.

Here are our Finnish friends with their new single So Happy I Could Die, which nicely sums up how I’m feeling about things right now.

 

This post was going to be a LOL-fest about how I need to stop smiling at people on public transport and saying ‘hi’ to everyone I walk past in the street – we’re not in Oban any more, Dorothy – but I don’t actually intend to stop doing either of those things.  Smile and the subway smiles with you; fart and you stand alone.

But anyway, there is something more pressing to be addressed.  I have identified a ‘development area’ for myself (two job interviews and I’ve turned into an utter wanker, it seems).

Obviously, I’m meeting a lot of new people here in the big smoke.  All the mega-babes on my course, naturally, but ‘non-makeup’ people too.  And it’s normal when you meet new people for them to ask you what you do.

And I need to STOP answering “studying.  Makeup Artistry… but I’M NOT A BIMBO.”

Are you LISTENING to yourself, Imogen Maxwell?  That’s an insult to me, my tutors/lecturers, and my classmates.  It’s also a bit of an insult to whoever I’m talking to when I say things like that; I’m yet to have “I’m studying makeup artistry” met with “well you must be one hell of a vacuous deadshit, hey.”

no-no

I’m judging people for judging me when they aren’t even – and that is using bad judgement.

So.  If ever I’m met with “why?” instead of “cool!” when i say what i do, I shall puff up my chest, look ’em in the eye and say “because I want to.”  Which is, as far as I know, the most compelling reason there is.

But until that day, I’ll be cutting back on so much self-deprecation and apologising about what I’m doing; no one else actually gives a fuck anyway, and I’ve taken on some reasonably seismic upheaval to make this dream of mine come true.  I AM serious about makeup, so it’s time for my words to line up with my actions.

To celebrate the end of MY bad habit of hanging shit on myself, I present to you the second long-haired pack of reprobates for today – unprecedented!  Two in one flog post – you lucky devils!  Here you’ve got New York young guns, Nasty Habit, with Hip Shakin’ Fox.  Sorry, and you’re welcome.

 

blogs and kisses,
x Imo

 

GIF me a job

23 Aug

Can I just say… today is the first time I’ve been able to get a GIF to work on my flog.  So… someone, GIF me a high-five!

No?  Moving on.

Enrollment day went well.  Found the bus, got off at the right stop, didn’t accidentally join a gang.  Bit of a waste, really, because the long long corridors at the college would be PERFECT for menacing, West-Side-Story-style click-walking.

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not what actual gangs are like

not what actual gangs are like

My greatest fear was that my classmates would be all like

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unfriendly, 15 years old, and orange

but they weren’t.  They WERE younger than me but not by fifteen years.  They WERE a little orange (some of them) but that’s alright with me.

They were also all friendly, and everyone was a little nervous and unsure of what to expect, so it was fine.  There was lots of green/blue/pink/purple/silver hair and LOTS of facial piercings (so I shan’t be getting my lip pierced now, partly because it would make me the same as everyone else but mostly because I am pretty sure my mother would march right over here – yes, from Australia – and tear it out of my face if I did.  Yes, I am thirty years old, contemplating a facial piercing and not going ahead because my parents would kill me.  Shut up.)

So that’s enrollment all done, and classes begin on Tuesday.  The rest of this week was spent re-acquainting myself with my CV and exploring my local area.  I’ve applied for a couple of jobs but I’m having a bit of an identity crisis.  I was the boss-lady up in Oban for the last five years so the idea of NOT having any responsibility kind of appeals, yet I also want to earn more than the minimum wage.  What to do?

First things first, I should really sort my chipped black nail polish out.

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May as well have “I’m not getting the job, am I?” tattooed on my neck.

Today’s tune deviates once again from the metal of glam and hair.  Because I am multi-faceted, with layers.  Like an onion.  A lot like an onion actually.  Delicious, but no one will have me in case they have to kiss their girlfriend later.  Boom boom!  Just kidding.  ANYWAY.

I’ve been making the most of the kitchen in my new flat which has not one but TWO dance areas.  Brilliant.  My housemates couldn’t be lovelier either.  Lucky me.  So let’s party – hit play and dance around, fools.  Yes, I know it’s annoying ad-music, but live a little won’t you.  It’s fun.

Happy Friday, lovers – I’m off to whoop it up with Loz who’s coming for a visit from Oban tonight.  We’re going to scare the panties off Glasgow.

Xx

let’s go, Glasgow

18 Aug

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Here is my face looking pretty darn pleased with itself, because as of Wednesday last week, I live in Glasgow.  And tomorrow I go in to Clydebank to enrol in my first of two years of study towards a Higher National Diploma in Make-Up Artistry.

I haven’t put much up on here lately because it’s been a bit of a funny ole time in the Imosphere, and I’ve not known what to say about a few things during this time of upheaval.  And this flog is for PHOTOS and feel-good fun times, not wordy introspective moany whiney pish-posh.

The end of my era (in Oban generally, at the backpackers specifically) – although not any kind of final goodbye – was hard and sad and weird.  I didn’t say goodbye because I didn’t want to, and I still wake up every morning with what I need to get on with during my working day there playing on my mind.  I guess that will fade in time.

Packing and moving always sucks but I’ve done it enough times, and recently, to be good at it.  My toothbrush and deodorant were where I thought i’d packed them, and I was also able to immediately locate the bra and dress I wanted to wear when I got changed.  I still need quite a bit of storage/furniture/drawers/a desk etc, but for now I know what is in each of the boxes piled around my new room.

Tomorrow will be my first shot at public transport between my new flat and the college, which will hopefully pass without incident.  After enrolling I’ve got one more week until classes start for real, one more week to get good at being in Glasgow and also maybe to find a part time job.  Wish me luck.

I’m looking for a highly-paid part time position that is fun, with cool workmates, preferably somewhere that gives me access to a lot of free shit that I actually need or want.  These things might include CDs, concert tickets, food and makeup.  Please forward job offers/sponsorship via my contact page.

But anyway.  This flog is about to be inundated with exciting tales and photos of my road to makeup mastery.  Thank you for hanging in there with me while I transition from backpacker queen to Academy Award-winning makeup goddess.

Perhaps today’s toughest decision is which farewell/new-beginning/winds of change themed hair-metal track to whip out to commemorate this moment in our journey.  There are so many to choose from and I feel a great responsibility to choose wisely.

Is Glasgow to be my Paradise City?  Here I Go Again On My Own, striking out solo in a new town?  Who will make me feel Welcome To The Jungle?  Or should I be looking backwards and assuring Oban and all my friends there that I Remember You?  Is there ever a good enough reason to put the cringey I Hate Kissing You Goodbye out there?  Should I be saving Home Sweet Home for a future post about my upcoming trip to Australia?

Gah.  Whitesnake wins.  Now go get yourself a floaty white dressing gown, a powerful wind machine, not one but two Jaguars and roll around on the pushed-together bonnets.

Enjoy!  Xx

bye, July

31 Jul

Chloe and I travelled through space and time down to London last week, for the David Bowie Is exhibition at the Victoria & Albert Museum.  She bought us flights and a night in a hostel right by the museum for my birthday, and THAT, boys and girls, is how you win employee of the month.

So here is a little photo essay, scroll down really fast to animate and it’s almost like you’re there with us.  Soundtrack: us screeching “HOW FUCKING MUCH?” every time we had to pay for something.

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it would probably be quicker to WALK from Oban to London but public transport is just so much funnnn

After … about 30 hours in transit, we finally arrived in London.  It was HOT down there – up in the highlands, summer so far has been humid and freezing, the worst of both worlds.  But in London, blue skies and legit t-shirt temperatures!

Nelson's Column, London Eye in the background.

Nelson’s Column, London Eye in the background.

We checked in to our hostel…

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good luck with that

… and beetled straight over to the V&A to check out our chances of getting in the next day.  We put on our broadest Australian accents and advised the staff that we had travelled a very. long. way. to see the exhibition, and we were only in London for one day so what did they suggest we do to guarantee a ticket?

Sadly they didn’t usher us into the exhibition after hours so we could dance about trying on the priceless Yamamotos.

Chloe (left) and me dancing about in the priceless Yamamotos

Chloe (left) and me dancing about in the priceless Yamamotos. Thanks, yeah, I work out.

But they did tell us to get in line quick-sharp the next morning, and all going well we’d be allowed in.  The museum opens at 10am so they told us to come around 9am, but we didn’t take any chances.  We were there at 8am because we’re hardcore.

good thing too, this was the line by 9am.  We were 15th and 16th from the front, coiled like steel springs ready to fly through the doors at 10:00:01am

good thing too, this was the line by 9am. We were 15th and 16th from the front, coiled like steel springs ready to fly through the doors at 10:00:01am

We got stand-by tickets to the first showing…

BOOM

BOOM

and the exhibition was friggin’

squeeeeee

squeeeeee

We had to go and drink some vodka in Regent's Park afterwards to calm down before our flight back up to Scottyland

We had to go and drink some vodka in Regent’s Park afterwards to calm down before our flight back up to Scottyland

So then we spent the night in my new flat in Glasgow, which I will be moving in to in 2 weeks from today.

Sad to leave my awesome housemates and weird to leave the town and job that have been home for the last 5 years...

Sad to leave my awesome housemates and weird to leave the town and job that have been home for the last 5 years…

... but excited for the change of scenery and the bloody amazing fun and opportunities that are to come!

… but excited for the change of scenery and the bloody amazing fun and opportunities that are to come!

So that’s me, kids.  I’m spending the next couple of weeks trying to sort out things at work and get my move a’happenin’.  I know I’ve really let this flog die in the arse and I do apologise to any disappointed stalkers out there.  I’ve got some good ideas for future posts so hang in there and one day I will get my shit together and make it worth your while.

meantime, here are my nails!  Silver flame wraps that I bought in Reykjavic earlier this year.

meantime, here are my nails! Silver flame wraps that I bought in Reykjavik earlier this year.

Right, now I’m off to bed, and when I wake up I’m going to make August my BEEEEAATCH.  Stay tuned, best beloved xX

what a week

22 Jul

I’m lying in bed with my laptop on my chest, full of cake and hangover, but smiling through the pain.  Thanks to my family and friends for indulging me, spoiling me, celebrating with me this weekend – feeling very loved and overwhelmed by everyone’s generosity.

So how does one turn 30, Imo-style?  Well.

I went down to Glasgow to scope out my new local area…

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… continued filming How I Killed Your Father with the delightful David Fernandez…

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… got the surprise of my life when Irene came over from Denmark to surprise me for my birthday…

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… celebrated the shit out of said birthday, by having a Tarantino co-party with other July baby Agapantha…

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can I just point out, the reason I look knackered is too-clever shading and contouring I did so I would look like I had been up all night taking cocaine with Vincent Vega. Not actually so hag-faced in real life, I swear.
Many thanks to resident pastry chef (and fellow Adelaide girl) Keva for the raspberry and white chocolate cheesecake – yummm.  Check out her blog here and I challenge you to NOT lick your computer screen.

 

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Colin as Stuntman Mike. Scar by me.

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Ian getting tatted up a la George Clooney in Dusk Til Dawn

… and ripped all my clothes off and jumped into Loch Lomond with Faye, because why not.

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This coming week I’m ordering all the kit to start my course next month, but even more exciting than bruise wheels and liquid latex is this – my adventure down to London with Chloe for the David Bowie Is exhibition at the V&A.  Giddy up!

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ain’t she just the best

So just this once I’ll deviate from the usual hair metal that only I give a shit about, and leave you with the great man himself.  A new version of this song is being used to advertise a mobile phone at the moment so here you go, get educated.

You can substitute the lyrics to be “blue, blue, electric blue, is the colour of my poo” if you like.

Until next time, be good.  Xx

welcome to the house of fun

2 Jul

It’s all go here at ImogenMaxwell.com this month; my birthday is coming… 

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… my new smart phone has made me 100% more obnoxious… 

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… and I’ve got new digs in Glasgow.  I move early August into the most friggin’ gorgeous flat I’ve seen in real life.  From the swamp of responses I received to my gumtree ad, a lone flower emerged from the mire… well, crap analogy but anyway, the best response to my ad led me to three girls around my age with a spare room in the west end.  Score! 

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they don’t know I look like this in the morning. Yet.

So that’s it.  I’m moving to Glasgow, decision made.  I now have the timetable for my course, I’m there 4 days a week (annoying) but have Friday-Saturday-Sunday off (excellent).

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Makeup Forever aqua cream shadows, Illamasqua powder shadow and sealing gel

 

Anyhoo.  Today’s hair metal classic is another wee diamond with a slightly WTF opening sequence, Summertime Girls by Californian poodle-permers Y & T.  Within this video you’ll find a wide world of 80s wonder – men in crop tops, a bikini that looks like pubes (why why why), a “heavy metal detector” detecting one of the band members buried under the sand, an actual mermaid and painfully high-cut swimwear that only the 80s can do.  

It’s this kind of fun, feel-good, dumb ole rock-n-roll that really makes summer, for me; it’s sure as shit not the drizzle, 90mph wind and 11-degree days here on the west coast of Scotland.  Enjoy!

ladies, I know where all the good ones are hiding!

7 Jun

do u want to share a nice place with a nice handsome guy?;)

I am living in one bedroom flat, and I like to shear my Flat with decent female if you inerested

you are so cute!

Hi there are u still looking for room I have something for u , don’t worry about rent just phone me

ON THE INTERNET!  THAT’S where they all are.  Just waiting for someone to put an ad on Gumtree for a flat-share, before they pounce with close-up photos of their penises*.

Sigh.  I’m trying to get whoreganised for starting the makeup artistry study at Clydebank, you see.  At the moment, all I know is that I’ve got a place on the course, and that classes begin on 19 August.  As I intend to go balls-to-the-wall with the course, this will involve defecting from Oban and being present, focused, committed and completely available somewhere near the college at least, from mid-August onwards.

Which is exciting and fabulous; I like Glasgow.  I’m lucky too; my boss isn’t making me quit my cool job up here in Oban to embark on this new adventure.  August is probably the worst month in which to make myself scarce, as it’s our busiest up here – yet still he’s being all cool with it.  The idea, at this stage with NO INFORMATION WHATSOEVER FROM THE COLLEGE, is that I’ll be down there in Glasgow for part of the week, and up here in Oban as much as practical and possible.

So what I’m looking for is a room in a flat with nice normal people who already live there.  Somewhere that will be easy-access to the college.  As I’m not sure how much of the week I’ll be spending there, the most important thing is that public transport between my new digs and college is quick and easy, and that my co-inhabitants don’t try to get fresh with me.  Unless I say they can.

The lonely hearts that are replying to my business-like, non-sexual and entirely uninviting ad on Gumtree represent quite a wide and vivid spectrum of un-gentlemanliness.  Some are obvious creeps, but some are just lonely and want someone else to be there when they get home.  And I’m actually not here to make fun of that.

I pity them only because they’re barking up completely the wrong tree if they’re approaching ME to give their home any kind of feminine touch.  I mean, I’ve been known to throw dishes in the bin instead of washing up.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a pig (as evidenced by my unwillingness to have dirty dishes lying around), but I’m just not one to buy flowers or bake cookies, sorry guys.

You could only have ever described me as a house proud domestic goddess during protracted periods of underemployment, when I had literally nothing better to do and couldn’t afford to be out in public having an actual good time.  This was before things like laptops and broadband entered the Imosphere, so self-entertainment was a different animal.

Just to be clear, I can bake, polish silver, vacuum the skirting boards properly.  I know about stain removal.  I know which cleaning products to use on the various household surfaces.  I know that tidying the sofas can make you a rich woman; there is ALWAYS change in that bad boy.  A veritable gold mine!

I am lightening with an iron; when I was a kid I got 5c per shirt, so I had to be damn fast or I’d be losing money standing there.  I really enjoy a clean, orderly home – and that shit was my bread and butter when I was an enterprising child fleecing my parents out of $10 a week to do ALL of the housework (the equivalent of -$7.82 per hour in today’s economic climate; I bet they still laugh about it, but at the time, when I was too young to be legally employed anywhere else, it was like winning the lottery).  It’s just… there’re so many better things to do.

So like I was saying, I pity the fool(s) who are looking for a guid wee wifey because, as Carissa wisely said, anyone who would post or respond to an invitation to share a rent-free bed with a guy you haven’t met in exchange for doing his domestic shit-work… would have to be completely insane.  Gasp – I’ve just figured it out.

Anyway.  Who cares.  I’ll find somewhere.

Oh and I did Carissa’s nails, all cartoon like.

nails

 

*Not impressed, ‘Joanna’.

guess who got in?

12 Apr
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go on, GUESS

There is a lot to celebrate, this week.  First, a tax return that I wasn’t expecting.  I have been so thorough in my celebration of this ‘free money’ that I’m pretty sure I’ve spent it several times over already.  I pounced on some facepaint and wigs on eBay this morning just in case.

And secondly, I have been offered a place at the Clydebank College to study a Higher National Diploma in Makeup Artistry.  I don’t know what to say here about it, the news is still sinking in but I can’t wipe the smile off my face.  I am so happy and excited and my whole life is about to change and it’s SO EXCITING!!!!!!!

I hope your Friday brings/has brought you something to go ‘wooooo’ about, too.

Tiger-kisses from me xX

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