On a completely different note, I thought I'd share some pics of my hexagon quilt-in-progress. It's getting huge, yet it still seems like I have a tonne of work ahead of me.
Thursday, 23 February 2012
Keep on hexagon
So, I left this blog on a pretty down note. It's been a rough few weeks, but one day at a time and all that. Thanks to everyone that checked in on me xxx
On a completely different note, I thought I'd share some pics of my hexagon quilt-in-progress. It's getting huge, yet it still seems like I have a tonne of work ahead of me.
On a completely different note, I thought I'd share some pics of my hexagon quilt-in-progress. It's getting huge, yet it still seems like I have a tonne of work ahead of me.
Friday, 3 February 2012
Long and ranty - you may as well skip this.
So, it turns out that I'm definitely not over the shit I went through at Borders last year. Am I allowed to name the company now? It doesn't exist any more, so I will.
I thought I had managed to get over it all, but the past week I've been having emotional meltdowns galore, and it's made me reassess myself (again) and my friendships.
Basically what happened at Borders was that I stood up for what I thought was the right thing to do, which was holding our corporate psychopath of a general manager (I got that term from my psychologist and it's incredibly apt) to account for his lies, manipulation and breaking of every industrial relations law; made an off-hand remark on Facebook about the company going down the crapper; had one of my "friends" from work take a screenshot and complain about me; had a teenage style tantrum on Facebook and posted a status that people could kiss my arse, then proceeded to delete the people who made the complaint. In the end, I really should have done it the other way around, because those people who made the original complaint then went and took a screenshot of my teenage-style cranky status and saw that they were later deleted and wrote letters of complaint about me for "bullying."
Irony.
I'm not saying that I was right to have that mini meltdown on Facebook, and I was and am completely aware of how juvenile I was about the whole thing, but this in no way excuses the people who were one thing to my face, but another thing behind my back, and all for this psychopath who they all claimed to despise. In the end, I was left beaten and broken in a heap. It still breaks my heart to think that I went into bat for these people, only to have them do this to me, and for what? A bit of flattery from a dickhead and a chance to jump on a sinking ship. Awesome. But these people didn't blink an eye and moved right on with their lives, got new jobs immediately, and show absolutely no remorse.
All that aside, and it still breaks me in pieces, I know on a cognitive level that they are cowards and whatnot. It drives me nuts that there's been no repurcussions for them, and that every day I'm living with mine. But I know there's nothing I can do about them, they were obviously fake and in it for themselves etc.
I think what hurts me the most is the people who I thought were my friends, and I don't think had anything to do with what those people did to me, but at the same time never thought to even call and see how I was doing. If it weren't for some of the people around me, I wouldn't be here right now. I think because I crack jokes and make self-deprecating remarks about how "I'm a bully" and things like that, people think I had a bit of a cry but then I was OK. Only a couple of people really know how painful this experience has been for me and how it still affects me. People from Borders that I thought were really good friends stood by and let this happen to me, because apparently everyone knew and decided it had nothing to do with them so they wouldn't get involved. The same people that would have gladly let me stick my neck out for themselves, and in fact I did, many times, which is what got me in the psychopath's target in the first place. One of these people lives under my roof, and I struggle daily to not scream at him. I know it's not fair, because these bystanders didn't do anything to me, but, whether or not its irrational, I feel that because they turned a blind eye and stood back, they are just as guilty as my other "friends" who stabbed me in the back.
And I have some beautiful friends that stood by me through all of this shit, and it gives me joy. But at the same time it breaks my heart because they have also been punished just for being my friends. They've also been cut out of the social circles and denied their rights, just because they didn't think that what was being done to me was right. And for that I'm forever thankful, because they're the ones who pulled me out of the hole I was in, but at the same time I'm also filled with guilt that because of me they also felt the fallout.
This has all come up again because of Australia Day when I got drunk and started crying again about everything. That's when I realised that I wasn't over it like I told everyone I was. That's also when I realised that people think that I should get over it; that I'm being overly dramatic. I don't think they realise that I can't get over it. I'm living with it every day. I know I'm not normal: because of my effed up family situation, I've always put too much into my friendships. That's probably why it hurts so much to have something like this happen - I considered these people my family, and to be honest, I'm tired of my family effing me over.
And Australia Day is when it came to a head. There were some people that understood what I was going through and wanted to help me, and there were others that I could feel just rolling their eyes at me being a crying drunk. I can't control what people think about me, although I'd love to! And I know I should just not care about what they think, but I'm so tired of having to justify myself. I'm kind of tired of everything.
I thought I had managed to get over it all, but the past week I've been having emotional meltdowns galore, and it's made me reassess myself (again) and my friendships.
Basically what happened at Borders was that I stood up for what I thought was the right thing to do, which was holding our corporate psychopath of a general manager (I got that term from my psychologist and it's incredibly apt) to account for his lies, manipulation and breaking of every industrial relations law; made an off-hand remark on Facebook about the company going down the crapper; had one of my "friends" from work take a screenshot and complain about me; had a teenage style tantrum on Facebook and posted a status that people could kiss my arse, then proceeded to delete the people who made the complaint. In the end, I really should have done it the other way around, because those people who made the original complaint then went and took a screenshot of my teenage-style cranky status and saw that they were later deleted and wrote letters of complaint about me for "bullying."
Irony.
I'm not saying that I was right to have that mini meltdown on Facebook, and I was and am completely aware of how juvenile I was about the whole thing, but this in no way excuses the people who were one thing to my face, but another thing behind my back, and all for this psychopath who they all claimed to despise. In the end, I was left beaten and broken in a heap. It still breaks my heart to think that I went into bat for these people, only to have them do this to me, and for what? A bit of flattery from a dickhead and a chance to jump on a sinking ship. Awesome. But these people didn't blink an eye and moved right on with their lives, got new jobs immediately, and show absolutely no remorse.
All that aside, and it still breaks me in pieces, I know on a cognitive level that they are cowards and whatnot. It drives me nuts that there's been no repurcussions for them, and that every day I'm living with mine. But I know there's nothing I can do about them, they were obviously fake and in it for themselves etc.
I think what hurts me the most is the people who I thought were my friends, and I don't think had anything to do with what those people did to me, but at the same time never thought to even call and see how I was doing. If it weren't for some of the people around me, I wouldn't be here right now. I think because I crack jokes and make self-deprecating remarks about how "I'm a bully" and things like that, people think I had a bit of a cry but then I was OK. Only a couple of people really know how painful this experience has been for me and how it still affects me. People from Borders that I thought were really good friends stood by and let this happen to me, because apparently everyone knew and decided it had nothing to do with them so they wouldn't get involved. The same people that would have gladly let me stick my neck out for themselves, and in fact I did, many times, which is what got me in the psychopath's target in the first place. One of these people lives under my roof, and I struggle daily to not scream at him. I know it's not fair, because these bystanders didn't do anything to me, but, whether or not its irrational, I feel that because they turned a blind eye and stood back, they are just as guilty as my other "friends" who stabbed me in the back.
And I have some beautiful friends that stood by me through all of this shit, and it gives me joy. But at the same time it breaks my heart because they have also been punished just for being my friends. They've also been cut out of the social circles and denied their rights, just because they didn't think that what was being done to me was right. And for that I'm forever thankful, because they're the ones who pulled me out of the hole I was in, but at the same time I'm also filled with guilt that because of me they also felt the fallout.
This has all come up again because of Australia Day when I got drunk and started crying again about everything. That's when I realised that I wasn't over it like I told everyone I was. That's also when I realised that people think that I should get over it; that I'm being overly dramatic. I don't think they realise that I can't get over it. I'm living with it every day. I know I'm not normal: because of my effed up family situation, I've always put too much into my friendships. That's probably why it hurts so much to have something like this happen - I considered these people my family, and to be honest, I'm tired of my family effing me over.
And Australia Day is when it came to a head. There were some people that understood what I was going through and wanted to help me, and there were others that I could feel just rolling their eyes at me being a crying drunk. I can't control what people think about me, although I'd love to! And I know I should just not care about what they think, but I'm so tired of having to justify myself. I'm kind of tired of everything.
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
A Weekend in the Country
I think I've mentioned a couple of times that when I finish my degree I want to teach in a country town, mostly because I've never really experienced life in the country. To me, moving to Newcastle was the same as moving to the country because I saw it as a small town, which will make my Novacastrian friends laugh because they believe that I grew up in the country because we lived on acreage in Sydney. Of course, I soon learned my lesson, especially when I took a trip with uni "Beyond the Line" and went to a town called Inverell for a week. It was 8 hours' drive away and had a main street. The highlight for the town was the opening of a Big W. Talk about a reality check.
So when my friend Rachel suggested we go on a roadtrip in-land, I was pretty keen.
Mount Misery.
Obviously the decision to go there was based on the name alone. We had no idea what we were heading into. It turns out that Mt Misery is the name of the old goldmine that was there, and the town itself is called Nundle.
So the girls drove up from Sydney on Friday and picked me up on their way through and we were off! We spent our time on the road watching out for kangaroos (we saw one hopping along on our way there, and about 5 or 6 dead ones on the way back - poor things/poor cars), eating lollies and making up verses to the song we had created about the roadtrip.
"We are driving in a car
We are driving very far
Off to Nundle. (Off to Nundle!)"
We'll never win creativity awards, but damn it was fun.
We hadn't gotten very far out of Newcastle when we saw a sign for a winery and decided that would be the perfect place for a picnic lunch.
We've drunk a lot of Wyndham Estate wines, but hadn't realised how close the vineyard was to us.
We ended up buying several bottles of wine and wandering through the vines, visiting the graves of the original owners.
We stayed in the guesthouse that's on the top level of the old gold mine and it was lovely. And cheap. And convenient, as where the gold mine sign is is actually a cafe now, with the Mt. Misery Gold Mine Museum attached. In fact, it turns out that the door to the original mine was located almost right under our beds.
Spooky.
We spent our time there checking out all the local shops, many of which were antique shops and craft shops. I actually learnt something from the quilt shop which will save me a heck of a lot of time on my hexagon quilt, but more on that in another post.
When we weren't shopping, we were driving along the River Peel, looking for the best spots to go fossicking for gold, as we were very determined to become rich off this trip. In the end, the only thing we found was beautiful scenery and our own sense of stupidity as we all ended up incredibly sunburnt.
 |
| The view of Nundle from Hanging Rock Lookout |
We made friends with the locals and have been invited back. Everyone was just so lovely and friendly, and genuinely interested in who we were and what brought us to their town. It was just the most wonderful weekend. But alas, it had to end.
On Sunday we packed up the car and left Nundle behind, heading to Tamworth to check out the Big Golden Guitar:
Turns out it wasn't very big, and it was a little dull to be considered "golden". But at least we can cross it off our lists of things we've seen.
After the girls dropped me back home in Newy, I finished the weekend with a trip to the cinema with my housemate, Bec, and laughed at cried together watching The Muppets Movie.
Such a perfect weekend.
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
Cost Per Snip
Today, I went and got my hair did for the first time in, oh, maybe a year. Yes, it has been that long, and yes, my hair reflected that ugly fact - any sense of a styled cut had grown out, and the ends were dry and damaged, however, I still couldn't be bothered going to get it done. Why? Two reasons: I hate hairdressers, and they charge WAY too much.
Why do I hate hairdressers? I don't hate the individual people themselves, I just hate the salon experience, I guess. I hate the head massage they give you as they wash your hair; I hate the lighting that makes you look washed out and sick; I hate the smell of the chemicals they use; but mostly, I hate the small talk.
- Getting your hair done for a specific event?
- How's your love life?
- Oh, the weather.
etc.
The annoying thing about this small talk is that you have to engage with it, especially because the fate of your hair is in this person's hands. You can't look pointedly at the magazine in your lap, because that would be rude, and you can't just answer: you have to join in and ask questions back. It's exhausting! I could never be a hairdresser because I couldn't cope with the constant chit chat. It's one of the reasons why I feel like a fraud when working in retail: I'm sure the customers can see through my act and that I just don't care about their day.
Plus, I've never left a salon feeling overjoyed by my hair. I always say how much I love it, then I need to put it in a ponytail for a couple of weeks until the cut has grown a little and looks more me.
But I decided to deal with it and suck it up, because my hair has been frustrating me to no end over the past few weeks. Also, I've been watching all three seasons of Tabatha's Salon Takeover to get psyched up, so I feel I know what to look for now.
I heart her so! If you haven't seen this show, go and watch it now. It's kind of like Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares, but for salons. I love her bitch please face, and the way she says, "Fucking upstart bitch." She's crazy hot.
Which brings me to the second reason I hate getting my hair cut: the price. $87 for a wash, cut and blow dry!!! WTF? I nearly died when they read the cost out to me. I had a $20 giftcard I'd gotten from my area supervisor at the Santa gig, so that helped a little, but $87?! How on earth can anyone justify charging that amount? And I didn't even get offered a coffee! I was offered a "complimentary hand massage" instead. But I didn't take it because I HATE massages of any kind. Now I wish I'd taken it just to feel like money was spent on something.
How on earth can a salon justify charging that amount. And in this economy! And how is it that with all the gay friends I have, not one of them is a hairdresser?
Oh well. I actually don't mind my haircut because the hairdresser was lovely and actually listened to what I wanted, which was basically to keep my hair the exact same. Hmm... Maybe it's exactly the same? It would explain why for once I didn't walk out covered in my hair clippings...
Why do I hate hairdressers? I don't hate the individual people themselves, I just hate the salon experience, I guess. I hate the head massage they give you as they wash your hair; I hate the lighting that makes you look washed out and sick; I hate the smell of the chemicals they use; but mostly, I hate the small talk.
- Getting your hair done for a specific event?
- How's your love life?
- Oh, the weather.
etc.
The annoying thing about this small talk is that you have to engage with it, especially because the fate of your hair is in this person's hands. You can't look pointedly at the magazine in your lap, because that would be rude, and you can't just answer: you have to join in and ask questions back. It's exhausting! I could never be a hairdresser because I couldn't cope with the constant chit chat. It's one of the reasons why I feel like a fraud when working in retail: I'm sure the customers can see through my act and that I just don't care about their day.
Plus, I've never left a salon feeling overjoyed by my hair. I always say how much I love it, then I need to put it in a ponytail for a couple of weeks until the cut has grown a little and looks more me.
But I decided to deal with it and suck it up, because my hair has been frustrating me to no end over the past few weeks. Also, I've been watching all three seasons of Tabatha's Salon Takeover to get psyched up, so I feel I know what to look for now.
Which brings me to the second reason I hate getting my hair cut: the price. $87 for a wash, cut and blow dry!!! WTF? I nearly died when they read the cost out to me. I had a $20 giftcard I'd gotten from my area supervisor at the Santa gig, so that helped a little, but $87?! How on earth can anyone justify charging that amount? And I didn't even get offered a coffee! I was offered a "complimentary hand massage" instead. But I didn't take it because I HATE massages of any kind. Now I wish I'd taken it just to feel like money was spent on something.
How on earth can a salon justify charging that amount. And in this economy! And how is it that with all the gay friends I have, not one of them is a hairdresser?
Oh well. I actually don't mind my haircut because the hairdresser was lovely and actually listened to what I wanted, which was basically to keep my hair the exact same. Hmm... Maybe it's exactly the same? It would explain why for once I didn't walk out covered in my hair clippings...
Friday, 6 January 2012
Lady of Leisure
So, I've been enjoying myself immensely this past week now that I've finally had absolutely no plans. It's been lovely waking up in the morning knowing that I can take my time with the laundry or my crafty pursuits without having to rush to be anywhere. Having worked so hard and so much the past two months, I'm luxuriating in this freedom.
I'm also finding that I'm actually quite productive when I'm not pressured into being so! Tonight I managed to do something I've been putting off for a long time: my Grad Recruitmen Application for the DET. I'm so glad to have it finished - at least the online part. It didn't even take that long to complete, and all I have to do now is get some documents notarised and I can sit back and wait for my interview.
I've also been working on my hexagon quilt.
This picture isn't that great, but you get the general idea. At the moment it's not very big. I want it to eventually be able to fit a king-sized bed, because why not? It's basically a mish mash of all the fabric I own, plus I've bought scraps and charm packs specifically for this quilt. It's a vomit of random colours and textures, but I love its hideousness. Plus, it keeps me busy, and even though progress is slow (first you have to cut the hexagon papers, then sew each scrap of fabric around each piece of paper, then you've got to join them all together), it's relaxing and keeps my hands busy. I think I have RSI though, or some kind of joint stiffening. My right hand is so stiff and sore - I know I should take a break from the sewing, but it's kind of annoying.
In my leisure I've also been shopping. I know, it's stupid to do that when normally I'm broke, but I've only been bargain hunting, I swear! The other day I went to Target to try and buy something to organise my makeup. I didn't find that, but I did find a new dress. I don't have a pic, but it's a mid-length, cream with navy stripes... I'm bad with descriptions. I know I shouldn't be shopping, but it was originally $59 and was marked down to $29. THEN, because the cashier noticed that the sash on it was missing (I didn't even realise it was supposed to have one), the cashier took it down to $23!!! It totally made my day.
Then yesterday I went op-shopping with Mel and found this little beauty:
The cutest little espresso-sized cup and saucer. The colours in the pic don't show it very well, but it's a blush pink colour. And did I mention it only cost me 50c?? Win.
So I've been enjoying this time, and tonight I'll be catching up with my uni buddies for the first time in a long time. So far I'm enjoying 2012. Now if only I could get rid of this cough...
Sunday, 1 January 2012
Looking Backwards and Forwards
So, as with most people, I find the end of the year/start of a new year to be a time of reflection.
I spent my NYE with Mikey, one of my favourite people on the planet. It was one of those nights when everyone seemed to have plans and those plans didn't seem to include me. Actually, that sentence sounds kind of mopey. What I mean is, everyone had plans already, and I wasn't really in the mood for anything ridiculous as I think I'm getting the flu. So Mikey and I hung out and watched The Muppets Movie and got all soppy about friendship.
Which brings me to the purpose of this post.
This past year has brought me a lot of turmoil. I haven't had a shake-up like this since high school, which is pretty normal to have fallings out with your friends. I rang in 2011 surrounded by people I thought were friends, only to have them turn around and stab me in the back during the year. It breaks my heart to think about how much I loved these people. Not only did I lose friends, the way in which it occured left me doubting everything about myself: my values, my personality, my ability to be a good friend, etc. I'm still a little shakey, and I'm still left questioning myself, but the soul-searching that this incident required has make me stronger in the end, I feel, and has reconfirmed my core beliefs. I've come to the tentative conclusion that those people were dealing with their own issues and pushed them onto me. It doesn't stop the hurt and the self-doubt, but it helps on a logical level.
At the same time though, what I went through this year has helped to strengthen the relationships that are genuine. The people that have stood by me and supported me, and have never doubted me, even when I doubted myself, have made this year worth the hassle.
Uni-wise, I've passed all my subjects and now only have internship to go! I can't believe I'm only 6 months away from graduating the degree that felt it wouldn't end. I don't want to jinx it, but for me this degree was so difficult - not from an academic point of view, but from a personal point of view - that I'm so proud of myself for what I've accomplished. I know I still have to get over the major hurdle of internship, but I'm confident in my abilities and I know I'll be able to get through it.
I've also really enjoyed the fact that this year I've really gotten into various crafts. I miss having hobbies. At the moment I'm working on a completely paper pieced hexagon quilt. This baby may take me years, but it's a lot of fun. I've also started making my first dress. It's about halfway finished now - just the interfacing and zipper to go. I can't believe how long I put dressmaking off, and how easy it has been!
Now, for the resolutions. I'm not normally one for resolutions, because I hate the idea of setting goals and not being able to achieve them. But I think these ones may be within my limits. I'm dividing them into groups though.
UNI
- Graduate.
- Get a job in the country.
MONEY
- Pay off credit card.
- Use the things you already have before buying new things. OR, use the one in, one out method: for every new item purchased, something has to be thrown out or given to charity.
- Start saving.
CRAFT
- Start working on UFOs (unfinished objects) before buying anything new.
HEALTH
- Actually use gym membership. Twice a week shouldn't be too hard.
- Get proactive about mental health. Do excercises the therapist gives you. Don't put things off or dismiss them as too hard. Take medication on time and regularly!!!
LIFE
- Don't get too caught up in drama.
- TRAVEL!!! Goal is to go overseas during the Christmas break.
I think that should do it. I should probably start it all by getting out of bed, but I'm so sleepy!
I spent my NYE with Mikey, one of my favourite people on the planet. It was one of those nights when everyone seemed to have plans and those plans didn't seem to include me. Actually, that sentence sounds kind of mopey. What I mean is, everyone had plans already, and I wasn't really in the mood for anything ridiculous as I think I'm getting the flu. So Mikey and I hung out and watched The Muppets Movie and got all soppy about friendship.
Which brings me to the purpose of this post.
This past year has brought me a lot of turmoil. I haven't had a shake-up like this since high school, which is pretty normal to have fallings out with your friends. I rang in 2011 surrounded by people I thought were friends, only to have them turn around and stab me in the back during the year. It breaks my heart to think about how much I loved these people. Not only did I lose friends, the way in which it occured left me doubting everything about myself: my values, my personality, my ability to be a good friend, etc. I'm still a little shakey, and I'm still left questioning myself, but the soul-searching that this incident required has make me stronger in the end, I feel, and has reconfirmed my core beliefs. I've come to the tentative conclusion that those people were dealing with their own issues and pushed them onto me. It doesn't stop the hurt and the self-doubt, but it helps on a logical level.
At the same time though, what I went through this year has helped to strengthen the relationships that are genuine. The people that have stood by me and supported me, and have never doubted me, even when I doubted myself, have made this year worth the hassle.
Uni-wise, I've passed all my subjects and now only have internship to go! I can't believe I'm only 6 months away from graduating the degree that felt it wouldn't end. I don't want to jinx it, but for me this degree was so difficult - not from an academic point of view, but from a personal point of view - that I'm so proud of myself for what I've accomplished. I know I still have to get over the major hurdle of internship, but I'm confident in my abilities and I know I'll be able to get through it.
I've also really enjoyed the fact that this year I've really gotten into various crafts. I miss having hobbies. At the moment I'm working on a completely paper pieced hexagon quilt. This baby may take me years, but it's a lot of fun. I've also started making my first dress. It's about halfway finished now - just the interfacing and zipper to go. I can't believe how long I put dressmaking off, and how easy it has been!
Now, for the resolutions. I'm not normally one for resolutions, because I hate the idea of setting goals and not being able to achieve them. But I think these ones may be within my limits. I'm dividing them into groups though.
UNI
- Graduate.
- Get a job in the country.
MONEY
- Pay off credit card.
- Use the things you already have before buying new things. OR, use the one in, one out method: for every new item purchased, something has to be thrown out or given to charity.
- Start saving.
CRAFT
- Start working on UFOs (unfinished objects) before buying anything new.
HEALTH
- Actually use gym membership. Twice a week shouldn't be too hard.
- Get proactive about mental health. Do excercises the therapist gives you. Don't put things off or dismiss them as too hard. Take medication on time and regularly!!!
LIFE
- Don't get too caught up in drama.
- TRAVEL!!! Goal is to go overseas during the Christmas break.
I think that should do it. I should probably start it all by getting out of bed, but I'm so sleepy!
Thursday, 1 December 2011
The Tale of Two Santas
So I'm currently slaving away, working for The Man. The Man being Santa, of course. I'm currently running a Santa photography set in a shopping centre in a pretty dodgy town. It's been... interesting, to say the least. Particularly the things I have noticed about those who live in this town:
1. Shoes are optional.
2. Mullets are still cool, and I have a feeling that in this town, they never went out of style.
3. Teeth are a privelege, not a right.
4. Parents wish for their children to be Younike and dif'rent, so their names and spelling variations should be a reflection of this.
I originally applied to the job because I knew that I'd be out of work during Christmas through to February, as the work I've been doing for the past 6 months has been childcare/school related. I figured that at least it would be 6 weeks of fulltime work and I could get a bit of money behind me to not have to worry too much over the school break.
Also, I kind of thought it would be like being in a David Sedaris story.
The ridiculousness of the work is the same, but that's about the only difference.
My main disappointment is that I don't get to dress up as an elf. I wear a T-shirt and black work pants, and the only Christmas-y thing I do is wear Rudolph earrings, and if the shopping centre aircon is working, a Santa hat. So I don't often wear the Santa hat.
Then there's the Big Man himself. Santa. Oh, Santa.
See, the problem is, we have two Santas. One is the most lovely man on the planet. He's 78, he has grandkids and great-grandkids, he buys me milkshakes, he gives me gardening advice, he jokes with kids and makes them comfortable, and he reminds me so much of my granddad. I want to adopt him.
Then, there's Bad Santa. Bad Santa is a DICK. An absolute arsehole. He spends his days whinging about everything from his costume, to his hours, to his boredom, to the uncomfortableness of his chair. He never smiles in photos, which, despite the beard covering half his face, is very noticeable. He doesn't do different poses so I can try and convince the parents to buy the largest pack with all of the photos. He takes long breaks, longer than he's allowed to, and when it's quiet he will just get up and go for a walk without telling me, leaving to me make excuses about reindeer and Mrs. Claus to the kids and their parents. He makes my shifts unbearably long, and I've been so close to just screaming at him, "You know what?? You get paid twice as much as I do and do half as much work, so shut the hell up!"
It's not like someone who dresses up as Santa particularly needs the work - it's seasonal. How have they been living for the past eleven months? It's something you do if you LIKE KIDS and Christmas, and want to make a little extra money this time of year. When there's no kids about, and he hasn't gone walkabout, he spends his time looking at his reflection, whinging about how much better last year's beard was.
The really frustrating thing about all this? There's nothing I can do about it! It's not like I'm his boss - hell, the company I work for aren't even his bosses. He's contracted out by a company that trains Santas for this time of year, and he's contracted out by the shopping centre.
I have four weeks to go. If you see Santa being thrown off a roof, I've finally cracked it and I've done away with him.
1. Shoes are optional.
2. Mullets are still cool, and I have a feeling that in this town, they never went out of style.
3. Teeth are a privelege, not a right.
4. Parents wish for their children to be Younike and dif'rent, so their names and spelling variations should be a reflection of this.
I originally applied to the job because I knew that I'd be out of work during Christmas through to February, as the work I've been doing for the past 6 months has been childcare/school related. I figured that at least it would be 6 weeks of fulltime work and I could get a bit of money behind me to not have to worry too much over the school break.
Also, I kind of thought it would be like being in a David Sedaris story.
The ridiculousness of the work is the same, but that's about the only difference.
My main disappointment is that I don't get to dress up as an elf. I wear a T-shirt and black work pants, and the only Christmas-y thing I do is wear Rudolph earrings, and if the shopping centre aircon is working, a Santa hat. So I don't often wear the Santa hat.
Then there's the Big Man himself. Santa. Oh, Santa.
See, the problem is, we have two Santas. One is the most lovely man on the planet. He's 78, he has grandkids and great-grandkids, he buys me milkshakes, he gives me gardening advice, he jokes with kids and makes them comfortable, and he reminds me so much of my granddad. I want to adopt him.
Then, there's Bad Santa. Bad Santa is a DICK. An absolute arsehole. He spends his days whinging about everything from his costume, to his hours, to his boredom, to the uncomfortableness of his chair. He never smiles in photos, which, despite the beard covering half his face, is very noticeable. He doesn't do different poses so I can try and convince the parents to buy the largest pack with all of the photos. He takes long breaks, longer than he's allowed to, and when it's quiet he will just get up and go for a walk without telling me, leaving to me make excuses about reindeer and Mrs. Claus to the kids and their parents. He makes my shifts unbearably long, and I've been so close to just screaming at him, "You know what?? You get paid twice as much as I do and do half as much work, so shut the hell up!"
It's not like someone who dresses up as Santa particularly needs the work - it's seasonal. How have they been living for the past eleven months? It's something you do if you LIKE KIDS and Christmas, and want to make a little extra money this time of year. When there's no kids about, and he hasn't gone walkabout, he spends his time looking at his reflection, whinging about how much better last year's beard was.
The really frustrating thing about all this? There's nothing I can do about it! It's not like I'm his boss - hell, the company I work for aren't even his bosses. He's contracted out by a company that trains Santas for this time of year, and he's contracted out by the shopping centre.
I have four weeks to go. If you see Santa being thrown off a roof, I've finally cracked it and I've done away with him.
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
Trying to Catch Up
So last week I finally finished uni for the year. I spent the whole of Thursday in bed, working on a quilt I'm making (more on that in another post), watching TV, and having mini anxiety attacks, thinking that I had something due for uni or had to go to work. I kept checking my phone calendar to make sure I hadn't missed anything, and the relief that came when I realised I had nothing on was heavenly.
I basically spent the weekend doing nothing much - hanging out with my friends, being Sunday people down on the Central Coast, and trying to organise my new job.
Have I mentioned that starting this Sunday I'm going to be a Santa Elf???!! Well, not really. I'm just working for a Santa photo set, and unfortunately, we have a uniform - it would be so much better if I could be an elf. It's only for 6ish weeks, but I'm already stressed from the job because I've been made the Set Supervisor, and having to try and chase my staff and lock in training dates and new staff when the old ones quit before they even begin is doing my head in. One exciting thing is that I've got Mikey working for me every weekend. Basically, I'm going to be working 6 days a week on the Santa set, then on the 7th day I'll be doing before and after school care. That's not to mention the tutoring afterwards. Sigh. I'm looking forward to it, and I know it's not for very long, but the thought that I'm not going to be able to see my family until Christmas Day is a bit sad. BUT I need to do this in order to survive the Christmas holidays, money-wise. Although I love looking after kids and tutoring, one of the downsides of this kind of work is the zero work during the school holidays.
Meanwhile, after tomorrow night's tutoring session, I'm going down to Sydney to see my family. There's been some crazy big news from that camp, so I'm looking forward to seeing everyone. I'll let you in on the news once everyone knows. But annoyingly, I then have to come back on Thursday night or early Friday morning for my set's training session (today's was cancelled because our equipment hasn't turned up), and then go back down to Sydney Friday evening so I can see my lovely friends on Saturday.
Hectic. But worth it.
Yes, this is the most boring post in the world. Sigh.
I basically spent the weekend doing nothing much - hanging out with my friends, being Sunday people down on the Central Coast, and trying to organise my new job.
Have I mentioned that starting this Sunday I'm going to be a Santa Elf???!! Well, not really. I'm just working for a Santa photo set, and unfortunately, we have a uniform - it would be so much better if I could be an elf. It's only for 6ish weeks, but I'm already stressed from the job because I've been made the Set Supervisor, and having to try and chase my staff and lock in training dates and new staff when the old ones quit before they even begin is doing my head in. One exciting thing is that I've got Mikey working for me every weekend. Basically, I'm going to be working 6 days a week on the Santa set, then on the 7th day I'll be doing before and after school care. That's not to mention the tutoring afterwards. Sigh. I'm looking forward to it, and I know it's not for very long, but the thought that I'm not going to be able to see my family until Christmas Day is a bit sad. BUT I need to do this in order to survive the Christmas holidays, money-wise. Although I love looking after kids and tutoring, one of the downsides of this kind of work is the zero work during the school holidays.
Meanwhile, after tomorrow night's tutoring session, I'm going down to Sydney to see my family. There's been some crazy big news from that camp, so I'm looking forward to seeing everyone. I'll let you in on the news once everyone knows. But annoyingly, I then have to come back on Thursday night or early Friday morning for my set's training session (today's was cancelled because our equipment hasn't turned up), and then go back down to Sydney Friday evening so I can see my lovely friends on Saturday.
Hectic. But worth it.
Yes, this is the most boring post in the world. Sigh.
Friday, 11 November 2011
Grease 2: Even Greasier
So, I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but Grease 2 is one of my favourite movies. I say that without irony. I think that the first film was a bit "yeah, it's alright," but Grease 2 came along, and Michelle Pfeifer climbed that ladder, and Maxwell Caulfied was "That Guy," and I was hooked.
In fact, Grease 2 brings people together like no other Grease can. I highly doubt that Mikey and I would be as tight as we are if it weren't for this film. Although we got along well from the beginning of knowing each other, it was only after we realised that we both loved the film Grease 2, and we both loved it hard, that we realised we would be together. Always, together. Like birds of a feather forever and ever.
So when we heard that our beloved film was going to be on stage in Melbourne, we immediately booked ourselves on the cheapest flight we could find and made sure we were at the opening weekend. We knew we'd have to fly, seeing as Mikey and I have driven down there twice before, and it's still too soon after our last drive down to think that it was actually fun to be in a Toyota Echo for 14 hours.
We got on the world's earliest flight (or, 7am) and arrived at Avalon airport not long after. But then we faffed about waiting for the one airport bus to take us into the CBD. This was all before we'd been able to eat. After we checked ourselves into a hostel called The Mansion and had to defend ourselves to various international randoms about our love of Grease 2, we finally got ourselves some brekkie.
***Note: I spent about half an hour right now trying to upload some of my photos from the trip, but our internet is being a massive bitch. I think it got it from me - I love being influential! There'll be photos added to this sometime in the future.***
We then wandered around Melbs for the rest of the day. We headed towards the Occupy Melbourne protest, because I'd been following the Occupy protests in the States and wanted to show my support. When we got to the area where the Occupy protest was supposed to be, Mikey and I were very confused. All we could see were "Free Palestine" banners, and "Boycott Max Brenner" posters. Maybe we'd stumbled upon a different protest? Not so, as the protesters started chanting: "Occupy Melbourne, not Palestine!" Mikey had to hold me back, I was so angry. Firstly, the issues aren't even remotely related. Secondly, I don't agree with their reasoning for the boycotting of MB stores. Boycott them for their shitty service (Charlestown store, I'm looking at you!), but maybe don't blindly follow the hippy in the Che Guevara shirt. And thirdly, how the hell are you going to carry out a proper protest when there is no unity in your message??? People were angry about everything from the carbon tax, to gay rights, to global warming, which is all great to be passionate about, but maybe start your own protest? Somewhere else? Having all these conflicting and unrelated voices simply dilutes the message and shows a complete lack of unity. It made me glad to see the "occupy" tents being taken down by police.
After many hours of ranting about this to poor Mikey (where does one buy soapboxes, in these days of cardboard, I wonder?), and getting distracted by EVERY BOOK STORE AND BOOK MARKET IN MELBOURNE (what can we say, we met in a bookstore, we love books and Grease 2!), we went back to the hostel to suit up and get ready for our moment.
After I had a two hour nap.
And locked Mikey out of the room for those two hours.
But then we were sufficiently suited up and were freaking out with anticipation for the show. Would it be good? Were they parodying an amazing film? (Not on MY watch!) What if they somehow ruined the film for us, like when you read a brilliant book and then a movie comes along which screws the book over, and then the book must forever bear the terrible film's taint?
Well, I am here to tell you that the show was PERFECT!!!!!!!!!! There was a lot of licence taken with some of the characters, but they deserved it. They did Cool Rider to perfection, ladder and everything, and also made fun of some of the terrible songs, like Charade. (I'm allowed to say it's terrible, because its terribleness is part of the brilliance of the film as it shows Michael's transition from loser new kid to the awesome cool rider. Or maybe I'm just giving the director/writer way too much credit.) The girl that played Stephanie, Melanie Ott, was absolutely sensational. Her voice was just amazing, and she was perfect as Stephanie.
Mikey and I acted like crazy fan girls the whole time. It was just great to see something we love so much up on the stage.
After the musical, still on a high, we met up with Bel, one of our old Borders (blergh) buddies that had moved down to Melbourne. She took us to a couple of bars and Lord of the Fries, some of the best late-night-drunk food I've ever had. And apparently it was all vegan. I wish they had stuff like this here in Newcastle so I could take my housemate Bec out for some good, greasy (lol) food.
Then Mikey and I managed to get back to the hostel, crazy drunk (it's CROFT, Mikey, not LOFT!), and slept as well as one can in a hostel.
The next morning was not pretty. We checked out of the hostel and met up with Bel for brekkie. After drinking ALL of the coffee, we decided that we didn't need to do any more touristy things because our poor little no-longer-20-year-old bodies couldn't handle the morning after. We spent the day in comic book shops, in magazine shops, and in other book shops. Yes, our Greasiness is only trumped by our bookishness.
And then later that night we flew back to Sydney. And then drove back to Newcastle. It was a long bloody weekend, but it was worth every moment.
In fact, Grease 2 brings people together like no other Grease can. I highly doubt that Mikey and I would be as tight as we are if it weren't for this film. Although we got along well from the beginning of knowing each other, it was only after we realised that we both loved the film Grease 2, and we both loved it hard, that we realised we would be together. Always, together. Like birds of a feather forever and ever.
So when we heard that our beloved film was going to be on stage in Melbourne, we immediately booked ourselves on the cheapest flight we could find and made sure we were at the opening weekend. We knew we'd have to fly, seeing as Mikey and I have driven down there twice before, and it's still too soon after our last drive down to think that it was actually fun to be in a Toyota Echo for 14 hours.
We got on the world's earliest flight (or, 7am) and arrived at Avalon airport not long after. But then we faffed about waiting for the one airport bus to take us into the CBD. This was all before we'd been able to eat. After we checked ourselves into a hostel called The Mansion and had to defend ourselves to various international randoms about our love of Grease 2, we finally got ourselves some brekkie.
***Note: I spent about half an hour right now trying to upload some of my photos from the trip, but our internet is being a massive bitch. I think it got it from me - I love being influential! There'll be photos added to this sometime in the future.***
We then wandered around Melbs for the rest of the day. We headed towards the Occupy Melbourne protest, because I'd been following the Occupy protests in the States and wanted to show my support. When we got to the area where the Occupy protest was supposed to be, Mikey and I were very confused. All we could see were "Free Palestine" banners, and "Boycott Max Brenner" posters. Maybe we'd stumbled upon a different protest? Not so, as the protesters started chanting: "Occupy Melbourne, not Palestine!" Mikey had to hold me back, I was so angry. Firstly, the issues aren't even remotely related. Secondly, I don't agree with their reasoning for the boycotting of MB stores. Boycott them for their shitty service (Charlestown store, I'm looking at you!), but maybe don't blindly follow the hippy in the Che Guevara shirt. And thirdly, how the hell are you going to carry out a proper protest when there is no unity in your message??? People were angry about everything from the carbon tax, to gay rights, to global warming, which is all great to be passionate about, but maybe start your own protest? Somewhere else? Having all these conflicting and unrelated voices simply dilutes the message and shows a complete lack of unity. It made me glad to see the "occupy" tents being taken down by police.
After many hours of ranting about this to poor Mikey (where does one buy soapboxes, in these days of cardboard, I wonder?), and getting distracted by EVERY BOOK STORE AND BOOK MARKET IN MELBOURNE (what can we say, we met in a bookstore, we love books and Grease 2!), we went back to the hostel to suit up and get ready for our moment.
After I had a two hour nap.
And locked Mikey out of the room for those two hours.
But then we were sufficiently suited up and were freaking out with anticipation for the show. Would it be good? Were they parodying an amazing film? (Not on MY watch!) What if they somehow ruined the film for us, like when you read a brilliant book and then a movie comes along which screws the book over, and then the book must forever bear the terrible film's taint?
Well, I am here to tell you that the show was PERFECT!!!!!!!!!! There was a lot of licence taken with some of the characters, but they deserved it. They did Cool Rider to perfection, ladder and everything, and also made fun of some of the terrible songs, like Charade. (I'm allowed to say it's terrible, because its terribleness is part of the brilliance of the film as it shows Michael's transition from loser new kid to the awesome cool rider. Or maybe I'm just giving the director/writer way too much credit.) The girl that played Stephanie, Melanie Ott, was absolutely sensational. Her voice was just amazing, and she was perfect as Stephanie.
Mikey and I acted like crazy fan girls the whole time. It was just great to see something we love so much up on the stage.
After the musical, still on a high, we met up with Bel, one of our old Borders (blergh) buddies that had moved down to Melbourne. She took us to a couple of bars and Lord of the Fries, some of the best late-night-drunk food I've ever had. And apparently it was all vegan. I wish they had stuff like this here in Newcastle so I could take my housemate Bec out for some good, greasy (lol) food.
Then Mikey and I managed to get back to the hostel, crazy drunk (it's CROFT, Mikey, not LOFT!), and slept as well as one can in a hostel.
The next morning was not pretty. We checked out of the hostel and met up with Bel for brekkie. After drinking ALL of the coffee, we decided that we didn't need to do any more touristy things because our poor little no-longer-20-year-old bodies couldn't handle the morning after. We spent the day in comic book shops, in magazine shops, and in other book shops. Yes, our Greasiness is only trumped by our bookishness.
And then later that night we flew back to Sydney. And then drove back to Newcastle. It was a long bloody weekend, but it was worth every moment.
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Where've I been?
So, I've been a bit busy lately, and haven't had a chance to post, so here's an update:
1. I attended the This is Not Art Zine Fair. I picked up some great zines on a whole bunch of random topics, and also bought a greeting card that's a print of a painting of one of my lovely friends, Bronwyn, made by her sister Rob, who's also on the card.
It now has pride of place on my bookshelf. We didn't get to check anything else out during the festival though due to the revolting weather. No wait! I lie - I forced my tired and over-it friends to head back out into the cold and go to the pub to see a spelling bee hosted by Lawrence Leung, just because I heart him so.
2. On Saturday night, Bec, Wade, Mikey and I travelled down to the Central Coast and joined the Hunter Paranormal Society on a ghost hunt! We went to a cemetery and a local beach (Jenny Dickson Beach), and used a bunch of high tech equipment to see if any ghosties were about. Here's Bec checking out a lone grave:
Here's a terrible photo, but the only one I have, of one of the heat sensors that were used:
And here's a shot of one of the K2s, which sense ectoplasm or something, a voice translator thing, and Mikey's hot gold shoes.
After all that, I didn't get to see any ghosts, and there was NOTHING going on at the beach (at least at the cemetery there were some readings on some of the equipment), but all in all, it was a fabulous night. I highly recommend it. Best thing about it? The fact that a Hunter Paranormal Society even exists! Win!
3. To continue the spookiness (not really), I've finally begun reading The Sandman graphic novels by Neil Gaiman:
Mikey leant me this series months and months (and months) ago, and they've just been sitting on my bookshelf gathering dust. I mean, they were sitting on my bookshelf being lovingly taken care of and in much better condition than when they first arrived. (Phew - covered that one up!) That is until Bec decided to start reading them and forced them upon me, and now I'm hooked! Sure, I'm 20-odd years too late to the table, but I run on Filo time.
4. I spent Sunday morning with the boys at the Darby St Fair.
It was actually a lovely day, considering how gross the days leading up to it were. Darby St was packed, and it was difficult to navigate through the foot traffic, but there were some lovely stalls, and what looked like some awesome food.
Anyway, I'm going to leave this post here because I have to get through these before I leave for Melbourne on the weekend:
Oh yes! I'm off to Melbourne. More on that later xx
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