Wildewire

I'm a member of a group of "radical" queers who are committed to alternative ways of being and relating to each other. There's a Facebook page for the group where recently I posted a couple of things about racism in Gay communities. I posted them because I've been involved with alternative queer groups since the 1990s and have rarely encountered more than one or two other people of colour at any event especially if they're residential events, the same has been true of this group. I was curious to see how they'd respond. It was really sad that they responded in very typical ways. From dismissive to defensive: "Black people are racist too", "there is too much madness in the world"- to be discussing this at the moment, "there's plenty of racist white gays. There are also plenty racist black gays." This last comment was from the group's central figure and was most disappointing because of that. He presents a very spi

I have been in bed since Sunday with abdominal pain and nausea which have kept me awake. I am exhausted and drained.  I am pretty sure it is trapped wind- no bloody joke when it hits I tell you! It happened to me a few days before my 30th birthday: I was working for Talawa Theatre and they had a belated office Christmas Dinner at some Mongolian Grill place- lots of near-raw vegetables and yummy sauces. The next day I was uncomfortable, by the evening I was in agony. To make it worse, I'd organised a big birthday bash at Central Station in King's Cross. By the time guests began to arrive, it was all I could to to lounge on a sofa and smile wanly... Until my Irish friend Eamon arrived, laughed, bought me a double port and lemonade and the pain went!!!!   am ever the optimist when it comes to my health so I refused to believe the excruciating pain I was feeling was anything more than trapped wind and that it would go away... Eventually. I'd spent Sunday with a couple

So writing this blog again served its purpose as a repository for my darkest fears but last Thursday I got an email saying that my references had been received and were satisfactory so my new employers would be sending me a start date. The next day, they asked me if I'd start the following Monday, I refused. I reminded them that I was unwilling to show up as "The Manager" when all I know about the business is that it is losing money. I asked for an organisation plan of departments with job titles, what the MONTHLY takings have been and costs for each department, how many business units remain empty, what the rents are etc... Can you imagine turning up to a job where a restructure is likely to shed jobs but you don't actually know how it operates?  My Line Manager relented, sent me some docs and we agreed I would start next Tuesday after the May Day bank holiday. I began brain-storming and one of my lodgers joined in. We had some exciting ideas but looking at the

Three weeks after being offered a job I still don't know when I might actually start working! Being utterly poor it is one of those ironic times where I have time to be doing stuff but no dosh to enable me to do it: I have invites to the South of France and to Norway to visit friends but I can't afford to get there and  Sod's Law dictates that as soon as I landed anywhere I'd get a summons to start work back in UK. The problem appears to be references. Despite telling them, with three day's notice that one of my referees would be going on holiday for 2 weeks I don't think they managed to get the request to her in time. As for my former employers, it wouldn't surprise me if they put the request at the bottom of their in-tray: they went to extravagant lengths to make me understand how insignificant I was in the scheme of their things whilst I was being paid by them, why should that have changed? There is of course the possibility that they either give an unf

One of my lodgers is finally in work for the first time in many years. He's got 'spare' cash for the first time in years and is experiencing the same as I did once thousands of pounds made it into my bank account after the sale of my mother's house in 2011: "yes I got cash, but I'm not paying that much for THAT!" Thwarted from his aim to buy himself something nice, he spotted a little cat hutch-type/bed thingy which he thought our mog would like. When he got home with it, I warned him that the cat was likely to sit NEAR it and wonder where the giant cushion to which he had grown accustomed had gone. It was amusing to watch the lodger all-but stuff the bemused feline into the present he had bought for it. We tried rubbing the cat's cheeks and using the cloth to smear his scent inside the structure- I'd seen that work on TV! -but the cat was unimpressed. The lodger was cursing darkly as we were laughing at him until he remembered the catnip. Havi

Well, at least I found my passport! -It was where it was supposed to be too; in a file with alphabet pockets where I keep all sorts of stuff. Of course I'd looked there before, it has been about 7 months since I "mislaid" it when all the time it was hiding under a piece of folded paper. -Which is good because, with all the uncertainty about Brexit and the Brits "taking back" their black passports I didn't want to be forking out for a new one if it was going to change in a short while. On the plus side: every cupboard, draw or conceivable hiding place has been scrutinised and reorganised during my hunt for the travel doc. I need it to take to my new employer to prove that I have the right to work here! I've got a 60 mile round trip tomorrow to hand it and my certificates over to be photocopied. On the down side, I can't find my degree so contacted my university to get them to send me a registered letter saying I graduated with the grade I claim- but

Its definitely good not having to spend so much time looking for my next possible job and all the research and preparation that went into submitting those applications. I've spent a lot of today archiving and organising files, generally clearing the decks for the new problems I'm about to inherit. I have to do a 60 mile round trip to hand over certs and passport etc to be photocopied to prove I have a right to work here. If it weren't for my mother paying about £58 when Thatcher was in power so that I could be "naturalised" (!) I might have been in danger of literally being picked up and detained as has been happening to people who had no idea their residence in UK was in  question. Its part of my process. Selecting where to put what files and information reminds me of what resources I have as well as highlighting things I need.  I've been looking at the last few years of accounts for the new job. The list of queries is long! I need to sit down with whoe

For all my yearnings for self-determination in the autumn of my working life, I have been fortunate enough to have been offered a job. After spending eight months submitting at least two applications per week when I got a message inviting me to attend an interview I didn't immediately remember having applied for it! When I did, I remembered it was the first application I'd submitted along with an edited CV that I hoped would make me seem as nonthreatening as I could (lol). Mind you, in the mean time I'd missed out on a couple of jobs where I was confident of at least an interview. I'd written them with the same restyling and I know the person running one of them. To be fair: although that job was about arts development in communities and increasing participation; in which I have excelled, it was specifically about live music. I have supported musicians as part of the job where I first encountered the guy behind this job, but it is obvious that my specialism is theat