Back from Hunting

Wine booty! And Tanja footy.

Anyway, yes. Bought far too much wine. Must attempt to get rid of it as quickly as possible. *hic*

And no one has internet connections anymore, so they don't update their blogs. It makes stalking boring. Step to, people!

Also, I've an idea for a sort of photo-based penpalling. A sort of "sum up where you live and who you are in 24 photos which you send to a person in another country" kind of thing. I have a bunch of australians here, and I know a few Englanders, Canadian Hoseristas, and Americanians. It could work.

I'm so clever.

Tanja and I saw a sports car that was sort of lamborghini-ish, but also tiny. My comment: "It looks like a cross between a penis and sneeze."

Also, during a discussion about a book on fantasy erotica (think Sleeping With Mermaids: Part Two), we came up with Lady Cottington's Shagged Fairy Book.

Ain't we a hoot?

That's just wierd.

The backwards, distorted part of "Blue Veins" by the Saboteurs drives my cat into a killing frenzy.

Huh.

Multicultural dinner

We had Thai panang curry vegetables, tandoori chicken and rice, with Australian beer.

Aren't we cosmopolitan?

Update, with Custard Pie Scene

News, well, not really. Work has been workful. I've become quite good at the half-truths, promises, and assurances that make up a Help Desk Person's stock-in-trade. I've been showing off my old Insprite cartoons to my workmates, to rave reviews and requests for more to be made. My shirt business has exploded; after making a pacman shirt for Craig and a quintet of "If Guy Doesn't Care, I Don't Care" shirts for various other people, I've been inundated with orders. Most noiseful has been one workmate who wants shirts for a friend's skateboard company, and his own tattooing company (like 100 at a pop) plus he wants to be the go between for all his friends in the tattooing and biker areas of the city (of twhich I'm happy to leave to him). He's also made noise about getting me to join up with some of his wife's friends who also do this (an idea I'm not happy about) and importing shirts from China (I get mine from Australia, as cheap as you could ask for). I'll belive it when I see it. Until then, I'm happy for him to plan like crazy. Then band is progressing well, though we've lost our original name of Poweranimal (as some other band signed to a label with that exact name) and have temporarily settled on Zombie Rhythm Section. We've got 10 sort-of songs put together, but with no lyrics yet (Sarah says Ted and I are machines. I was tempted to yell back "I'm not a droid!"). So yeah. progress. Tanja and I are planning a Hunter Valley trip in early December, and a move whenever we can find a decent place that will let us have Magrat.

Oh, yeah, and one more thing...

*is hit in face with custard pie by Harpo Marx-like figure*

Acquisitions. Again.

Hey look, ma! I got my eyebrow piercing back! I took it out for that awful interview for the Lindt Cafe (which I didn't even get) and in taking it out, damaged the D-ring I had in there. I went thinking I'd need to get it re-pierced, but the lady at Industrial Strength said "Nope, we just have to stretch it and put in the new ring." New ring cost me 25 bucks. Putting it in cost nothing. I was so happy at the price that I bought these:






Brothel Creeper shoes! Or technically, Brother Creeper sneakers. They had the proper shoes with the 2-inch foam soles, but they just didn't suit me. Tanja had her eye on a pair of 50s-style heels but decided they were just a bit too high for her. Oh well. Then after a lot of walking, I ducked into Fish Records and got this:





The new Beck album that's been banned on the UK charts. Bastards that they are. It's good. It's got the good elements of Guero, without the bogging down parts. Also, you get a sheet of stickers to make your own cover art. Snazzy.
Oh, also, last week, I got this:







Kiss Kiss Bang Bang! I had a dodgy burnt copy of this, but I liked it so much I wanted a copy with no skips and freeze-ups. Hooray for modern-noir-comedy!

Repent!

Well, it's happened. My hair is officially too long to easily spike. I have entered the Slick Hair time of the calender. And there was much wailing, and gnashing of teeth. Oh yea, oh yea, rama-lama-ding-dong.

And I learned a lesson this weekend at Tanja's birthday dinner. If you get BBQ Chili Quail from a Greek restaurant, it is extremely delicious, but it leaves you with a similar mess to getting buffalo wings from a dingy pub: messy fingers and mocking from others at the table.

Since I'm so lazy...

...I'll just repost from an email I sent my mom:

"As for my teeth, I went to see that dentist that Tanja's been going to for 20 years (since she was a tiny wee thing) yesterday and he gave me some shocking news: I only have one abcess! Not two! And the one I have is small enough that he can do a root canal from the back of the tooth, and seal it with a resin filling. No pulling, no crown. He said the other dentist guy was, in his words, "trying to shaft me". So I'm going to still have quite a few appointments, and it'll still be expensive, but not nearly as much. Good news. Well, not GREAT news, but better than before."

And we are living la vida broadbanda.

All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth

Yeah, I wish I was meaning that in a more figurative way, but no. I do want them. See, I'm probably going to lose them. Well, not both front teeth, but the right one and the one to the right of the right one. It turns out that those infections I've been having every so often for the last year or so (you know, the ones where my face swells up like a boxer and I'm in a rather unnecessarily large amount of pain?) are signs that I have a couple of abcesses. Which means either a root canal and crown or they remove the teeth and I either get dentures or bridgework. It's going to be pricey. We're talking at least 4 grand and above, depending on what we do, and how many appointments it takes. Plus, I'm going to need a bunch of fillings and cleanings until then, so I'm basically going to be getting dental work until February of next year.

On a happier note, training at work is going well. There was a Fairy Tale dress up day, and in true Pratchettian traditions, I went as one of the evil overlord's Dread Guards. You know, the ones who run in when the baddie yells "Guards! Sieze him!" and get slaughtered? Yeah. Me. Craig, however, was the Fire. From Bambi. Calls of "Don't make me burn you!" resounded through the centre.

Oh, and we got Broadband. Well, I say got, I mean getting. It turns up on Monday.

Working 9 to 5.

...It's no way to make a living.
I warn you, this might be a long and rambling post.

It starts easily enough: I was fired from my job on Monday morning. The reason? My selling of books to school and libraries (which was meant to be 25% of my time, but thanks to a tragedy in the family of one of my bosses, became all of my job for the last three days of last week) was under par. I had sent out 25 books, and made one bulk sale in one week. They felt that I should be sending out 100 books or more and making 2 or so sales in that time. So I was given a warning talk on Friday that told me I need to get in gear, and when I came in on Monday, in gear and ready, I was fired and told to get out.

I was not happy. I let them know this. Words were said. Sarcasm flew like darts.

I called Tanja to tell her the bad news. This is how that conversation went:

Me: "I've been fired."
Tanja: "AGAIN!?!"

Thanks, love. [rolleyes]

Anyway, the next morning I dashed off an angry, spiteful blog entry, but held off posting it, just in case. I procrastinated on it for a while. Tanja thought I shouldn't mention termination on a blog, just in case, but I felt I wanted to vent on it. But it didn't get posted.

That night, we met Sarah, Ted, and Craig at the Australian Youth Hotel's Nude Bar (not an actual nude bar, but a bar with cool pictures and a sort-of Georgian-Edwardian setup) to see Gary Eck do stand-up. It was great fun. He's really a clever comic, and he finished off with what he referred to as "the Knob Game".

The Knob Game is thus: It involves taking movie titles, and substituting the word "knob" for a key word. I instantly brightened up, as we had played a similar game to this, but with the word being "vagina", when I was at Uni. So he went through a few, and then opened it up to the audience. I shouted "Crouching Tiger Hidden Knob!", then "the Passion of the Knob!" and then we all started rallying like crazy. Tanja managed "The Knobfather", Craig "Knob Wars: The Phantom Knob", Sarah "My Left Knob", and then I delivered the clincher. Happily, he didn't hear me the first time, and the room got quiet, for me to triumphantly declaim:

"My Big Fat Greek Knob!"

Bwa ha ha. He cracked up, and then said, "You're going to get all cocky now. I can see you going home and saying 'yeah, the show was alright, but I was AWESOME!'"

And he's right. I am. Heh.

Anyway, I was talking to Tanja on the way out about how I have to Blog about this, but then I realized that I hadn't posted my angry "I'm-fired" post. Then it hit me that I felt mad at my ex-employers not just for firing me, but for restricting my continuing happiness. It might sound like an overstatement, but it was true.

So I started looking for work again on Seek. I checked out a few things. Then i get a text from Craig saying that a spot had opened up where he works. I applied online, and they called me the same day. They wanted an interview. I went for that interview this morning, and they called this afternoon. I've got the job. It's in-bound telemarketing for Telstra BigPond Internet. What I'll be is the guy on the other end of the help-line when you call about your bill. And the money is great. Way better than CareerFAQs. Plus, the workplace is all about the "work hard, play hard" dichotomy, as I am.

The week has come full circle. Fired on Monday, New job by Friday. Things are looking up.

(A brief aside here: I got me a set of drums. After three uncompfortable hours with precious precious lugnuts, Ted and I set it up at his mum's place (which hereafter shall be known as 'the Studio'). We've been practising, and it's all coming back to me. Also, Sarah has a gig at Sol's Deck Bar on Oxford St. She and I started talking about t-shirts to sell, and my brain started sparking overtime. I made some lightscribe CD labels, and photocopied some inserts, and mentally sketched out some ideas, which I spent most of yesterday putting onto fabric. Tanja remarked that it seemed I had more enthusiasm for the shirts and CDs than I did for finding a new job. Huh.)

Boy, Is My Face Red.

Ok, this morning, Arsenio at the next desk was on the phone near me talking to his Mom, who was apparently saying that one of their friends in Canada had won a million dollars in the lottery. The name “Tom Sturdy” was mentioned. I started to get interested, as Tom is my mother’s boyfriend. I frantically asked where this Tom lived, and was told “somewhere in Ontario”. Meep! I start thinking fast to see what time it was in Canada, and if I could call my mom. I also asked for a short international call from the office manager, who turned me down flat. So I dashed off a quick email to my mother:

“Mom! This guy at the desk next to me was talking to his mother who mentioned that a friend of theirs from Canada “somewhere in Ontario” named Tom Sturdy who is “somewhere in his 50s” won the Canadian lottery for like a million dollars. Is it our Tom? I’m going to explode here!”

Well. After letting me stew for a while, Rebecca the office manager broke the news. Apparantly, sometime after I told my mom about my new job, Tom sent off an email saying “Congratulations on hiring Lucas,” etc. So they decided to mess with me. Argh.

Sure, it was funny. But it would have been funnier had it not been me. I’ll simply have to kill them all.

Ok, It's official.

The office espresso machine hates me today. First, it drastically over-fills my cup with watery brownish liquid which I have to spill to get out from under the machine. Then it refuses to drip for like five minutes. Then I add milk and go to use the frother/texturiser/blower-air-thingie, and it blasts a quarter of my coffee out of the cup and all over the wall.

Bah. But I won that drum set, so I guess this is the world setting itself right again.

And With Laces

See? Not so bad at all.


And I'm bidding for a drum set on eBay! Go poweranimal!

Shoooooes

I painted a pair of my shoes yesterday. They were a knock-off pair of faux-Converses from Kmart that were a sort of faded denim blue. I didn't like them that colour as it was odd when I wore them with jeans. So I painted the tongue, the back stripe and the elastic on the ankle red and the rest black. As you can see.

Locate Me, Musically. Hey, that rhymes!

I am spending far too much time on this site when I should be working. I love being told what to think!

Music Map

Hail, Caesar!

It started pissing down just as I came out of the library, then quickly changed to this sh...stuff. The pictures don't do it justice. And thunder! And lightning! And boybands falling from the sky! And I had no jacket!

Yet more hail.

Oh, and...

...I got a new job. Sales Executive. At a publishing company that does career guides. I'm to be selling to schools, colleges, libraries, etc, as well as looking after this website, adding links and tiles and stuff. Decent pay, 9 to 5 hours, Monday to Friday. Huzzah. Hope I don't screw it up.

Lurve Is A (Star Wars) Battlefield

Defending Hoth is hard. Not just because Snowspeeders handle like shit, but because I know in my heart that the AT-ATs are going to blast the shield generators and the rebels are going to lose. It was on a movie screen. It has to be true.

It's all over, man! Game over!

Well, the world is now officially being FedExed to Hell in a handcart.

Yesterday, at roughly 12:30 pm, I was in Comics Kingdom, killing time, reading back issues of Runaways, when the manager walked up and got my attention. I took out my headphones, and he spake thusly:

“You’re not allowed to read the comics.”

“What?”

“It’s ok to browse, but don’t read them. This is not a library.”

So I put the comic back, and walked out. Un-fucking-believable. You’re allowed to read in comic shops. That’s why they exist! I’ve yet to buy a book at a comic shop EVER. In my life. But he doesn’t know that! God! It’s just not fair.

Richard Dreyfuss has a hunger for cupcakes. I'm not sure why.

I watched Jaws with Tanja last night. When it got to climactic moments, she'd look worried and flap her hands because of the tension. It was extremely cute.

In between emailing for jobs, I'm burning all my Mystery Science Theatre 3000 DVD in order to infect the members of my film class.

(also, I've had to stop using CNNNN one-liners as my titles, as I had to return it to the video store.)

World-Class Spreadsheet Excels Itself

Another interview story. This one is for a Sales Rep job for a company that publishes Career Guides. I was keen on this one because not only was it an office-type job, but they mentioned in the ad that they wanted book store people who were looking for a leg up. Plus, they would have paid up to 40k, which is a sight more than Borders. So I show up my suit, looking snazzy (Tanja found a website that taught me how to tie my tie). Turns out, for the first time ever, I'm the best-dressed guy there as the others are fairly casual. Anyway, the interview goes good, to the point of one of the guys continually writing down my wittier quips because he liked them so much, such as "I hate using a cliche like 'get back on the horse', and every time I do, a little bit of me dies inside" and "Do you have this book that I read as a child? It had a red cover and it turned out they were twins." What? Doesn't everyone say things like this? Just while wrapping up, they mention "Oh, and even though it's not a prerequisite, do you have an Australian driver's licence?" Nope. Not a problem, says they. Anyway, they seem really keen on me, and happy to have me, and I leave the interview in a good mood. So I get a call after Tanja and I do the groceries, and it's the guy. He tells me that everyone felt really positive about my interview, and that they spoke to the woman that I'd be working under, and she brought up a point. She feels that I need to have a driver's licence, since the clients are often far away. So he calls me back and gets the bad news that if I were to get a licence, I'd have to go through my L's and my P's and driving lessons and all that. He's going to look into it, and call me back tomorrow. Bugger. They should have put "need a licence" on the ad, damnit. I never would have applied. If he calls back and tells me no without a licence, I'm going to ask if there are any other places for non-drivers, and then swallow my pride.

And I have an interview for a retail job with David Jones in the city tomorrow. Here's hoping.

Fine Opinion Piece Ruined By Use of Facts

It's odd how things can look different with the benefit of hindsight and some new information. For example, I read yesterday (in a wonderful library book called GeekChic) that the character of Woodstock (Snoopy's lil bird buddy from from "Peanuts") does not speak in nonsensical bird-noises. He speaks binary. Huh.

Anyway.
(I'm stuffing this entry with literary allusions, quotes, and metaphor in order to disguise a few of the details.)

I, Jack-Sparrow-like, now find myself forced to state that "I'm in the market."

Borders, which always felt to me that I wandered, Ponder-Stibbons-like, throughout crowds of Deans, Chairs of Indefinite Studies, Ridcullys, Readers of Invisible Runes, and the occasional Bursar, is no longer my employer.

After the initial shock wore off, I've immersed myself in the job market through various websites, newspapers, nepotisms, and carrier pigeons. I found myself sympathising with a paragraph from Robert Rankin's Apocalypso:

"Porrig did, however, pass by Mad Jack's Used Car Emporium [his former employer. -me]. And here he paused to push a post-card through the letter-box. On the postcard were written words of apology, explaining that Porrig had, through no fault of his own, been forced into taking an early retirement. Porrig had been very careful indeed when penning this missive to couch it in terms that would not be likely to cause offence or risk retribution.
He had only used the word "fuckwit" twice in describing his employer."

It's good to be the King.

Behold. I managed to get just shy of $1500 worth of stuff for a mere $40. For I am Lucas, King of the Bargains. Grovel before my extremely well-priced might. And it was all perfectly legal. The boxed sets were on clearance in the cabinets, where no one bothered to look. Except me. Bwa ha ha.

Oh, and Tanja and I went to the Hunter Valley and picked up a ridiculous amount of wine. 5-and-a-bit cases. It doesn't all fit on the rack. We also had lovely relaxation time, impressive food and a spa bath. With bubbles.

I Knew It Was A Trap!

(Oh, and before I start this tirade, I should mention that almost as soon as I finished blogging the last entry, the phone rang again and I got an interview for Wednesday morning at 10:30. When it rains, it pours. Or.... does it?)

So I had my first interview Tuesday at 3 at George Street Marketing Agency. After filling out a huge application form (6 pages of 'what would be your dream job' and 'why do you feel you are a self-motivator', what a bunch of bollocks) I interview with a really cool enthusiastic guy who tells me all about the company and how they work for Energy Australia and Citibank, and how they do below-the-line marketing. Sounds good. Then they say that they want people who want a foot in the door and a career and such. Sounds great. Then we talk for a bit, and I come off all smooth and everything. He says I'd be dealing with business-to-business marketing to keep existing customers, and it'll be 36 to 37K per year. That gets my attention. I say "Well, as long as it's not going to be selling stuff to people on the street, it's fine." He tells me to come back for second interview, which would occur at 8:30 on Thursday, in which I could go to the location and see what they're doing and whether I like it. Sweet.

On to the next interview. It's at PhD Marketing (part of the RISA group, which apparantly is 200 marketing companies in 24 countries and is flush with moolah). They say (after having me fill out another big application ('Are you comfortable working in a team environment? Give specific examples of when you were part of a successful team.') that they do below-the-line-marketing for AAPT telecommunications and they want 100 people by April, 10 of whom will be in supervisory roles. Sounds good. They also do business-to-business marketing. Right. Ok. Sounds familiar, but do go on. Same speil, but he says I should come back Monday for the second part of the application process, which is a one-day trial. Nine to five. Unpaid. Competing against another guy (Oh, and this interviewer also has a wierd habit of asking me questions about my interests as listed on my application and then zoning out when I respond, so I end up talking and then trailing off, and there's a moment of silence and he blinks and gives himself a shake and goes "...Right!." and we proceed). So I leave, with a wierded feeling, and get home to explain this stuff to Tanja. She gets all nervy about the one-day-trial-unpaid thing, which is apparantly incredibly illegal under HR legislature, and I decide not to go back to PhD or to the Monday thing.

So. Wednesday. 10:30. I show up at the interview for Elite Advertising Group. I fill out, I shit you not, the EXACT same application from the first place. Then in I go. She goes over my application and everything's good. Then she says she's in charge of below-the-line marketing for Doctors Without Borders and World-Vision (uh oh). And what she wants me to do, is join her team of (and I apologize for this, but I have to stress it) PEOPLE WHO STAND OUTSIDE TRAIN STATIONS TRYING TO CON PEOPLE INTO CREDIT CARD DONATIONS!!! Gah! I take her card and leave, thinking that I'm never answering a call from them again. Also, on the way back, I stop at Lowes and Myer and get some dress shirts (as the one respectable one I have is showing wear), which is an adventure in its own right as I'm a size 39 in a size 44's world.

Anyway, this morning I show up at 8:30 at the office, and another guy gives me a whirlwind talk about the job without telling me anything new, and then says "Ok, Henry here will be taking you out on the job to Caringbah." Caringbah's a suburb that's an hour train ride away. I know this because I had to ride the train there. And pay for my own ticket. It would have been $8.80, but I had my student card, so it was $4.40. I asked Henry if they reimburse for travel, to which he replied that he keeps all his weekly tickets and they reimburse him 30% of them at tax time. Uh oh.
So on the train ride, Henry explains stuff to me. He (and I) would be canvassing businesses. Cold. We were going to walk into a business, ask to see the manager, inquire about their outstanding debts and credit cards, and offer to pay them all and charge only 6.9% interest with no account fees. I wasn't impressed. Apparantly it's completely commission-based. No base salary. He gets $40 for each person he signs up, with bonuses for the options they get. I was about half an hour, then I stop him and say "Look, I think this is where I leave you."
"Really?"
"Yeah. This isn't what I expected."
"Yeah, Ok. See you."
And I wander back to Caringbah station, feeling like crap, then have to wait 30 minutes on the platform for the 1 hour ride to the city. There go three days of my holidays. And I had to return a shirt to Myer because it had highlighter on it! Pink highlighter! And they didn't have my size in the style I wanted! So I had to pick a less-good style.

Thank God Tanja and I are going to the Hunter Valley this weekend.

Interviews and Spitfires

I'm on me holidays this week and next, and I've been using my time constructively (wandering around in my PJs, watching movies (including the awesome Band Of Brothers miniseries, all 12 hours of it). I've also got onto seek.com.au and started applying for jobs and building my profile. Well, this morning I get a call from a place wanting me to come in this afternoon at 3 and apply. Well, great. Then I get another call not five minutes after telling Tanja about the first and they want me to come in at 4:30 and apply too. They saw my resume and were "very impressed". Shit, I know my resume, and I'M not impressed. Oh well, who am I to argue. So I have two interviews this afternoon. Get out the cheap suit once again.

However, isn't it always the way, when something goes right, another goes wrong? I spent most of yesterday cutting a really cool stencil of a Spitfire fighter plane, and when I went to paint it this morning on a cool dark grey shirt. But, of course, the grey is too dark for black, so I painted it in white. Mistake. The stencil was of the shadows and now it just looks wrong. Shoot. I haven't screwed up a shirt in over a year now. Ah, well.

Work, damn you!

I'm writing this in order to (hopefully) stimulate my creative processes. You see, I've finished all the bitch-ass assignments that I had due with the exception of one, and all of the exams I had except one. Shockingly enough, it's for the same subject. Advertising Case Studies. The dreaded Vicki.

I've been frustrated by assignments before. Clauston's mystified me with it's cryptic directions (that we're all sure he's reused from another class). Musgrove's was long, and involved a lot of typing and retyping of the same facts and research results. Steve's snap-focus deadlines gave me small starts of panic ("I want it emailed to me before 9 pm tonight." will be his historic line forever). But I've never felt this angry.

As you may recall, gentle readers, Vicki is the teacher who decided that after half-hols, she was through teaching us, and said that if we needed her, we could damn well make an appointment. Nice of her, wasn't it. She also hardly discussed the assignment after the second day. The idea was for us to work all together in a group to generate all the information for the report, but we were to do individual reports to hand in. Then she went on a tirade about plagiarism. My question is, if, say, Diniz writes the media plan and emails it around, and Matt writes the creative timeline, and we're to include both of these in our reports, how is it not plagiarism? Well, I KNOW that it's not, but I worry what she'll intrepret it to be. Also, she's provided no clear outline of headings or framework that we can punch our information into. I've had to email around and see what everyone else is using as headings so that I'm not way off base.

It's roughly due before the 22nd, which is the day of our exam. It's the 16th. I have another hour tonight, all the 17th, all the 18th (although, Tanja will be home both those days and damnit, I want to spend time with her too), all the 19th, all the 20th, 21st morning, 22nd morning, to write this report. Oh, and go over the case study given to us for the exam too. At some point.

I've gone past the working-with-a-movie-in-the-background phase. I dawdled in the playing-classical-music-and enhancing-my-mellow-so-I-can-work phase. Then the vacuum-and-put-away-dishes-to-clear-my-head-from-the-buzzing-words phase. I'm now smack in the middle of the blasting-Raconteurs(Saboteurs to those in Australia)-really-loud-and-damned-be-the-neighbours-while-I-try-to-make-sense-of-this-rubbish phase.

It's a good phase.

Tonight, Ted, Catherine, Tanja and I are going out for Thai in Newtown. I hope I'm not going to be a gloomy bastard. And I'll try not to drink too much. Maybe.

{note to Blogspot readers. Yes, I changed the title of my Blog again. Funny-Ha-Ha-Funny-Strange just wasn't doing it for me. I contemplated calling it "Across The Andes By Frog: the stirring story of one man and six amphibians who tried to defy the world in the greatest gamble of all", but have settled on "Binge Thinkers Anonymous"}

Just killing time...

...as no one but me turned up to the last Ethics class we had (irony, thy name is Dale). I picked up my Body Shop assignment. I got 42 1/2 out of 50. Huzzah! And thanks to a bout of middle-ear infection, I was a wreck on Friday and Saturday, missed work on Sunday, but was well enough to finish my big report for Innovation Sunday night.

And, thanks to Tanja's encouragement and a sale at David Jones, I now have a swanky Drizabone leather jacket. It's waterproof too. It's been tested today, thanks to rain.

Oh, and Toronto was nearly blown up by terrorists. They stuck it in as a footnote to the news last night. Fertiliser bomb. Yikes.

I'm at Ted and Cath's place

...for Cath's birthday. Apparantly she's 27 today. Or something nearby thereabouts. I'm listening to Beatles while Tanja talks business with some guy I don't know. It's getting better...all the time. So much better all the time. I've switched to water to slow myself down, but it's not working. Oh well. Life goes on. It has to. Or else there is death. And not wonderfully sensible Neil Gaiman Death. Decay Death. And that's no fun at all, possums.

Status report.

Alright. It's 10:30 Sunday mroning, and here's how the assignment tally stands:
Assignment 1, Kastamak Case Study for International Marketing: 100%.
Assignment 2, Youth Driver Initiative, for Campaign Research: 73%
Assignment 3, The Body Shop, for Ethics: 95% (I just have to make a brochure)
Assignment 4, Penfolds Wineries (thanks to a brilliant idea from Tanja), for Innovation and Change: 0% (although it's only the 20-minute presentation that's due on Tuesday. The report isn't due for another two weeks)

I have this morning until about 11:45, tomorrow morning until about 12, and then tomorrow night from around 8:30 on.

Put on the coffee. We've got some grooving to do.

Ok. It's been roughly 12 hours.

I have roughly *calculates furiously* 1.58 assignments finished. Take not that to mean that I'm finished one. I've nearly finished one. And about 63% through another. The biggest, I still haven't started.

Tanja and I split a bottle of cab sav with dinner. Now I'm having trouble focussing. Damn and blast.

Neil Gaiman was right.

A blank screen is Hell.

Damn and blast.

Aha! I have found it!

I found a cover of "Rock the Casbah" which is nearly replicatable! I don't even know if that's a word! It's by TrustCompany, a one-hit-wonder-aggro-rock group that did a lot of WWE soundtracks. Also, in my searchings, I found a trip-hoppy-Moloko-sounding version by the Solar Twins, whom I have never heard of. I like it though. Share-ee-ef, I like it.

We've been playing Ferris Bueller at work since the Special edition came out. Noice.

Oh, and I'm horribly bogged down with TAFE work.

Man. You guys all suck.

Hardly anyone got my songs. I must have wierd tastes. I mean, apart from cheese and jam sandwiches.

Here are the answers:
1. Dallas Crane - Dirty Hearts
2. Bob Dylan - Down the Highway
3. The White Stripes - Instinct Blues
4. Red Hot Chili Peppers - My And My Friends
5. Cat Empire - Luck Song
6. Three Dead Trolls In A Baggie - the War of 1812
7. Nirvana - Heart Shaped Box
8. Stealing My Heart - Rolling Stones
9. Death of a Clown - The Kinks
10. It Doesn't Matter - Alison Krauss & Union Station
11. Audioweb - Sleeper
12. Steriogram - Walkie Talkie Man
13. Poprocks & Coke - Green Day
14. Ash - Out of the Blue
15. Sorrow - Powderfinger
16. The Vines - Country Yard
17. Cherry Poppin' Daddies - Drunk Daddy
18. Powerman 5000 - Tonight the Stars Revolt
19. Nine Inch Nails - Beside You In Time
20. Rebel Yell - Scooter

My MX horoscope was rather right. Odd, that a free transit newspaper which specialises in oddball tidbits to amuse commuters like "In Germany, people often snack upon passing tourists with sweet mustard." could know the meanings of the stars and destinies and shit.

"Aries
21 Mar-20 Apr
You may feel weighed down this week, as though you're carrying around an emotional bag of rocks. this will understandably make things difficult, but hang in there and persevere as your goals were never meant to be easy to achieve. Working through a tough time will ultimately empower you."

Cool. I hope I get a cool power, like flight or Nightcrawler-agility or adamantium claws. I can just see it now. "Sir, the video store is closing." *snikt* "I don't think so, bub."

Sweet.

This bandwagon is comfy. (edited 'cause people are guessing)

I'm jumping on a late bandwagon with the other Blog and Blurty people. The deal is you put your player on shuffle, and list the first 20 first lines of the first 20 songs to come up and people have to guess. I don't know, I just work here. (Ok, I've already had to start over. First my shuffle wasn't on, then there were three songs that were either talking or the artist says the name of the group in the first line. Stupid rappers.

1. Little darlin' do you want me to sing you a song?
2. Well I'm walking down a highway, with my suitcase in my hand
3. Well, the crickets get it, and the ants get it.
4. Me and muh-me and muh-me and muh-me and my friends....
5. So by now you have seen my, by now I have seen you
6. Ohhhh, come back, Proud Canadians to before you had TV... (The War of 1812 by Three Dead Trolls In A Baggie, well-spotted by cdngirleh)
7. She eyes me like a pisces when I am weak (Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana, got by bettie)
8. Well luck is expensive and freedom comes cheap
9. My makeup is dry and it clags on my chin
10. It doesn't matter what I want, it doesn't matter what i need (It Doesn't Matter by Alison Krauss, got by Simon)
11. I'm only sleeping, I'm only sleeping
12. Well you’re walkin and a talkin and a movin and a groovin
13. Where're you go, you know I'll be there...
14. Not feeling, broken-hearted, feeling just like when it started
15. With your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue...
16. I'm tired of feeling sick and useless
17. Mama married a big asshole, whiskey bottles on the floor (Drunk Daddy by Cherry Poppin' Daddies, NEARLY got by Simon, but I'll give it to him. He named the album)
18. Hang onto tomorrow, because tonight....
19. I am all alone this time around
20. In the midnight hour!

Busy week continued again...

... And I've discovered eBay, and all the joys and sorrows that come with it.

I started out bidding on Drum kits. And I've managed to get myself outbid on all of them, the three most promising within the last 30 minutes of the auction. I was extremely unimpressed with that. I ranted. I raved. I called them Biblical curse-words. Then I calmed down and bought myself a DVD and a snazzy belt-buckle.
Still want that 7-piece drum set I had nearly gotten for $200. Bastards.

I've been making a bunch of shirts I've been procrastinating on for one of my TAFE guys (although he doesn't have grounds to complain, I'm doing the blasted things for free, and one of them was the hardest bit of cutting I've had to do yet) and one for myself too.

I'm dreading going back to TAFE next week. The real run-up to big assignments starts. Very stressful.

Busy Week Continued (long posts bother me)

....so anyway, we went up to Katoomba on Friday, stayed in a scary motel (causing the following exchanges: Me: "How often do you think the train will go by? So often we won't even notice it?" and Tanja: "where's the alarm clock?" Me:"It's okay, I'm sure we can just get a wake up call... where's the phone? THERE'S NO PHONE!"), ate lovely food, and went to see Worth's band. Things I learned on this trip:
::Pokies are boring as shite.
::If you sneak up to see the band setting up, and find a taped-shut paper bag at an empty table, and then open it, and find a 1977 7" single of the Sex Pistols doing "God Save The Queen" and are guilted by Tanja into leaving it there in case it belongs to a band member, and then come back after the gig starts and find it again, you get to keep it!
::Some place have rum-and-coke on tap for $3 a glass. This is dangerous.
::If you know people in the band, you get invited to the afterparty!
::Cooper's is actually an ok beer after 8 rounds of rum-and-coke.
::Morning-after lunches turn into late second-breakfasts.
::French onion soup warms from the inside out.
::Motels come with free dead spiders.
::You should really return DVDs to Civic before you go away for the weekend.

My feet are cold.

That has nothing really to do with anything, but it's a truth. Cold.

Anyway, last week or so has been of a busyness. I've had school holidays, and Easter in the Blue Mountains (where I got a motorcycle ride with Tanja's dad, to which my father later explained to me "You know, Lucas, boys shouldn't ride with boys." Thanks Pop.) and then the Robert Cray/Buddy Guy concert on Wednesday.

I had the Plan. I was making Peurco Pibil (slow roasted pork with Mexican spice-stuff), Dave was showing up at 6 or 6:30, we eat, we drink, we take off for the concert which starts at 7:30. Of course, Dave encounters every obstacle known to man and beast in the getting here, and he doesn't arrive until 7:15. Ah well. Foods were scoffed, drinks sculled, and we were off. The show didn't actually start until 8 anyway, so we were fine for time. Turns out, though, that despite buying the tickets within 5 seconds of each other from the same distributor, David and I were both in row H, but in seats 5 and 37. we tried just sitting together, but we had angry people in my (potential) seat, so we had to make a deal with the usher. She found us two seats in the second to last row of the balcony. Sounds disastrous, right? Well, not thanks to the wonderful acoustics and design of the Enmore. We had a crippling view of the stage (thanks to their being no one in the two seats in front of us). Robert Cray came on, and he was good, better live than on CD and he usually sounds so restrained.

Then came Buddy.

Good. Lord.

Keep in mind folks, that just because Buddy Guy is classified as a blues artist, and is turning 70 this year that this was a quiet, down-home blues rendition. Not in the least. This was the guy (no pun intended) idolised by Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, and most of the names in rock today (Buddy even did a cover of "Voodoo Child which was up there with the original). The guitar work was phenomenal, and he played the crowd just as well. Who expects to laugh when they go to a concert? Not me. But I did. I laugh myself stupid. Why? Because he's a funny guy, that's why. Example, he paid tribute to John Lee Hooker as being a blues pioneer, then slyly played 30 seconds of "Boom Boom", then stopped and made a face, communicating to all that he had just encompassed Hooker's 40-odd year career in those 30 seconds. Bwa ha ha.

Anyway, it was incredible.

Posting from the TAFE library

...Because Vicki finished early this morning. She's also told us that she feels she's taught us all she needs to for our EXTERNAL EXAM (I emphasize to emphasize the enormity of that) in 7 weeks instead of 16, and if any of us need anything, we're to make an appointment.

One one hand, I can sleep in Mondays now, as Ethics doesn't start until 1.

On other hand, GAH! Exam! She's taught us squat! This is the woman who, wehn asked a question she doesn't expect (or, I've hypothesized, doesn'tknowthe answer to) barks, "Find out!"

As in: "Vicki? Do you feel that since this is listed as part of the promotion mix, it should be classified as such, despite it being big enough to be it's own heading? And don't most companies include it?"
"Find out!" Oy.

Well anyway, as of Thursday I'm on school holidays for two weeks. Thank fuck, as my wonderful, sophisticated, erudite Tanja might say. During said holidays, despite working my usual hours, Tanja and I will be heading to her folks' place for Easter, David and myself will be going to see Buddy Guy and Robert Cray at the Enmore (!!!!!!!!), and (hopefully, if our schedules will let us pull this off) Tanja and I will be going to see Worth's band in Katoomba. Brad willing.

I've been getting Neil Gaiman's Sandman books (graphic novels, not comics) out of the library and really enjoying them. I'd be telling Tanja this, but she's confessed that she doesn't think Gaiman's "all that" and that he has an "ordinary guy fetish". She did this five seconds before I could properly gush. Oh well. I don't like her Sharon Penrose novels. So nyah.

And I've just filled up my little USB keychain with MP3s off the Fat Possum Records site. Hooray for post-punk-blues/blues/garage/rock.


And a guy here at TAFE is making me a CD of his "Baleric filter-tipped French gay biker haus not-proper-electro Prog". I'm afraid to actually listen to it.

Oh, and thanks to Tanja's diet thingy, I'm at 79 kilos. Actually 78.5, but Tanja says it's 79, and it's her scale. So I'm not going to argue.

Oh, and another thing.

Fancy new clothes! Tanja got me two shirts and a fancy pair of jeans from Fcuk. Very posh. In order that I wouldn't step all over the backs of the jeans, I finally bought the pair of 8-hole Doc Marten's I've been ogling. Like a moron, I wore them to work on Sunday. Shredded feet. Hobbled around. Waited two days, let me feet heal, and wore them again with two pairs of socks. I was fine all day until i had to run up a flight of stairs to get to the train. Shredded heels again. I'm still happy with them, though. Heh.

"I was happier then, with no mindset..."

(The title has bugger all to do with my mood, it's just a line I like from a song I'm listening to at the moment)

We finally got a new music guy at work. We hired him last week, but he didn't show up for his first few days. It seems my direct boss Worth neglected to call him to tell him when he was supposed to start. Well done, Worth. Dumbass. Oh, and guess what the blighter's name is. Two guesses, but you'll only need one. Lucas. Yes. So now I'm "Lucas B" or in Tanja's case when she calls in, "Lucas from Canada". Just rolls off the tongue.

Oh, and to people in the area, I'm planning a dinner/night at the pub next Saturday (the 1st) for my birthday. Plan at the moment is to meet up here for an early dinner (this has been decreed a wine only event in order to ensure that we actually GET to the pub) and then off to the Rose in Erskineville. Sound good?

As for other birthday stuff, Tanja and I are going to see comedian Charlie Pickering at the @Newtown venue. I've not heard of him before. Does anyone know if he's any good?

Also, if to beleaguer an open-ended paragraph structure, I’ve begun properly reading Robert Rankin, and I’m really getting to enjoy his books (despite not liking “The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse” as I was unfamiliar with his style). Any of our English brethren know of/read him?

This is too much fun:
It's like Buster the Dummy from Mythbusters!

I need a haircut soon. I'm starting to look like an exhibit from The Golden Age of Muttonchops.

Long time-y no update-y

Olympics over. Tanja and I went to Noosa. Ate much, got rained on a lot. Bought fancy pants. Got a tan. Back at TAFE. Stresses begun anew. Not looking forward to work on Wednesday.

Watching the Olympics

Well, not REALLY the Olympics. Three daily hours of Olympic highlights. Tanja and I watched the snowboarding and the downhill skiing, and now we're watching the luge, and the Canadian guy was doing so well, on a run that was faster that the gold medal guy, and then he slipped! Oh. It's quite sad. and I read on CBC.ca that the Canadian woman's hockey team drubbed the Italians and the Russians. Sadly, i don't think they'll show the whole games on Australian TV. le sigh. Back to CBC.ca for me.

Guess what happened to us tonight?

So... we had someone try to break into our flat tonight. Well, I say break in, more like saunter in. We're on the third floor, and we had our balcony door open. Tanja (bless her incredibly light-sleeping little cotton socks), heard a sharp click (that, in her half-dreamy stupor, she thought was the coffee pot, domestic thing her) which was his flashlight. She saw the curtains move, and the light shine in. She poked me and woke me up and frantically whispered that she thought there was someone in the house. I got up, and snuck into the next room, and saw a shadow staning on the balcony. Summoning my best housemaster what-the-fuck-are-you-doing voice, I bellowed "EXCUSE ME!", and I heard him scramble away, and he then leapt off the balcony hitting the railing and, after a moment, the edge of the car ramp into the garage. I ducked outside onto the balcony, and he was walking away. I got a look at the guy, but not a good one: shaved head, black hoodie, jeans, young white guy. Nothing was taken (my iPod was right there on the table, within an arm's reach of the door, but he didn't see it, I guess). We called 0-0-0, and got an impatient snarky woman who told us that if we didn't need police right then, then to call Directory Assistance and get the number from them, before hanging up. I waited a blink, then called again, and got a much more helpful guy. He sent a couple of cops out. They found the place without trying too hard (see, Ted? It can be done) and took my statement and details. They were shocked he didn't take the iPod, and twice as surprised that he jumped. The guy-cop was hopeful that the "bloke had maybe snapped a few ligaments on the way down, eh? Or maybe broke 'is leg?" He sounded hopeful. Heh. On the way out, a call came in about a guy in black shirt and red pants stealing a mobile phone near King Street (about two blocks from here). same guy? Who knows.

It's now 5:29 am, 45 minutes since it happened and neither of us can sleep. Tanja's got the over-talking "stupids" as she calls them.

We're so hitting the landlord up for some security flyscreens. And a deadbolt.

And maybe he can fix the dishwasher while he's here.

Acquisitions

So it's been a spendy-grabby-acquisitiony few weeks. I went and bought a record player from Dick Smith that would be compatible with our stereo system, despite the dickhead who works there trying to talk me out of it ("You know how fast these wear out, man? And the sound quality of vinyl just sucks." Dude, I have money in my hand and know exactly what I want. Shut your damn mouth.) So now I can play the Shadows, Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, John Denver, Neil Diamond, and John Lennon records I found by the side of the road/got from Tanja's father. Also, I made my first foray into Egg records. Appalled at the prices of some things (70 dollars for the Clash's London Calling! And it's not even an original. It's a RE-RELEASE! Get over yourselves!), I ducked into the bargain racks at the back of the store. $4.95 for 1, $15 for 5, $25 for 10. I found some good ones:
Scott Joplin - The Sting: OMPST (Nice ragtime tunes. And "Solace" is one of the loneliest songs I've ever heard)
Bruce Springsteen - Born To Run (I was inspired by it's use in the Battle Royale novel)
Sigue Sigue Sputnik - Flaunt It (It's not just a High Fidelity joke anymore)
The Guess Who - Live At The Paramount (with a 15 minute improv on American Woman)
Steve Miller Band - Abracadabra (I know, i know, but I like the band, and I couldn't find one with The Joker or Jet Airliner on it)
(And these last five are for Tanja, purchased to make her not yell at me for wasting my money):
U2 - War
Kim Wilde - Kim Wilde
Kim Wilde - Select
Abba - Arrival (bwa ha ha)
Midnight Oil - Diesel and Dust

Also, speaking of music acquisitions, David at work has decided to reciprocate my burning him 2 or 3 CDs every week ever since I've known him by lending me a bunch of albums which are now residing in my iPod:
Sublime - 40 oz To Freedom
Red Hot Chili Peppers - By The Way
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Howl (Really good)
Fiona Apple - Extraordinary Machine
Eskimo Joe - A Song Is A City
Faith No More - Angel Dust
The White Stripes - Get Thee Behind Me Satan
Goldfrapp - Supernature
Grosse Pointe Blank - Soundtrack
Nirvana - Nirvana (the black one)
Morphine - Cure for Pain

Of course, all this was the day I bought myself the following CDs form the $10 CD shop:
Beck - Mellow Gold
Eel - Souljacker (Really, really, ridiculously good. like Beck. But easier to digest)
The Ramones - The Ramones (the re-release with bonus tracks of the first album. I got into a 2-hour argument with Victoria from work because she saw me CD, and started the conversation with "Oh, I don't like the Ramones. They suck." and my lashing back that without the Ramones, there wouldn't BE a punk scene. Dagnabbit. I made myself a Ramones T-shirt, just to wear to work and spite her. Heh)

Oh, and Mom's parcel (that she sent in OCTOBER [doh]) finally arrived with my three Mystery Science Theatre 3000 boxed sets. Happy happy joy joy! I even submitted a few of them to Tanja and she laughed! Hooray! I won't have to watch them alone.

The last few days, though, I’ve been oddly sick. Not cold-sick. No runny nose or anything like that. It sort of happened after I walked in the rain 3 times and ate lukewarm soggy pizza at 2 pm. Then at 5:30 that day I felt unbearable lethargy, soreness like I’d been beaten, lightheadedness, dizzy spells, and a massive headache. I begged off work early. Between work, the train platform, and home, I developed a fever and chills. Tanja helped me once I got home, but the night was filled with half-waking odd dreams of nonsense words drowning me like quicksand (shut up, I’m trying to explain here) sore muscles, and only about three hours of actual sleep. I got up at 4:30 am, and read in the living room, then passed out on the couch for an hour. That morning, my fever and chills were gone, but the headache, dizziness and muscle pain remained. I went to the doctor and got a sick certificate for that day as well, and was feeling nearly normal when I went to bed at 11:30. Cue awakening at 2:47 am. I was so dehydrated. Not just normal dehydrated. This was can’t-swallow-skin-raspy-eyes-hurting-bleeding-from-nasal-capillaries-dehydrated. After sculling a glass of Tanja-recommended Gastrolyte electrolyte drink (though sculling is a misnomer: it tasted horrid, so I read a magazine and drank it over 40 minutes), I was able to sleep until 8. I awoke dehydrated again. Bought two bottles of Gatorade from the IGA and sculled them too. I’m feeling slightly more human now. My nose is no longer bleeding. And there was much rejoicing.

Anyway, I was able to buy said Gatorade for this reason: yesterday, emboldened by my scavenger/bargain hunter spirit, Tanja spotted what she called a tall-boy chest of drawers left out by the curb. We lugged it back home, her blushing furiously, and me crowing in triumph. After some finagling, we got it into the bedroom. In the aftermath, this conversation occurred: (paraphrased)
Tanja: “Hey, Lucas, you know that brown leather 3-seater couch we saw at the store on King Street? How much was that?”
Me: “I think it was around $1000.”
Tanja: “Oh. I’ve been looking in the Ikea and Freedom catalogues, and they don’t have one for less that $1500. I think maybe tomorrow on your day off, you should swing by and get it.”
Me: “Okaaaay.”

So that’s why I was out. It won’t actually arrive until Saturday or so next week (they’re waiting on the next shipment), but we have a new couch! No more futon-thingy. I’ve even convinced Tanja to put the futon out on the balcony (a covered balcony, mind you) for our smoking guests. So I was out ordering the couch, and sculling Gatorade, and I wandered back into the record store. The bargain bins called to me, and I made the following purchases:
David Bowie - Changes One (Surprisingly fantastic. Then again, maybe not so surprising)
Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin (!!!!)
Led Zeppelin - Houses of the Holy (Also !!!!)
BB King - Best of, 1974 (Some of it recorded live at Cook County Jail)
The Kinks - One Golden Hour (Another Greatest Hits, but I enjoy their early stuff)

So now I’m playing Command & Conquer, reorganizing my closet, listening to records, and hoping I’m not still sick tomorrow.

And that’s all I have to say aboot that.

Alright. Let's wang this chung.

Ok, Pre-Christmas work-thingie. Got through it with lots of black V (taste the evil), and headed out to the mountains. Slept for a few hours. Woke up, endured annoying brother-in-law. Opened presents. Got lovely things. Loathed brother-in-law. Went to sleep. Woke up feeling wretched, nausious (however you spell that) and headachey, and had to sleep it off. Was given records and record player from Tanja's Dad. Huzzah! This should allow me to listen to the records I found by the side of the road. Except the player is too old to interface with our system. Damnit. Well, this is just an impetus to buy a new one. Go JB Hi Fi! Post Christmas Spending: New shirts, new brown hat, new jeans, Beck CD, Eels CD (fanTAStic), and Ramones CD. Sweeeet.

Now back to regular life. Although I got to personalise a Futurama quote yesterday. Jason wanted new music for the store, and he goes "We need new music for the store. Do you have anything David Gray-ish?" "No. Not really. Oh, but we do have David Gray."

Heh. I also put on Oasis, Welcome Back 1966-69, and the new tribute to Rubber Soul. It's good to be in control.

And Ted, Catherine, and Craig came over for New Years Eve and we watched John Safran and I got rather drunk. We also learned that TISM has the coolest dance ever. You sit in a chair, thump the microphone against your chest and wobble your head around. Stylin'. And Craig brought me Zero Hour expansion pack for Command & Conquer: Generals. Great. Now I'll never leave my house.

Oh. And I got my watch fixed. That's the real news of the post. Well, when I say me, I mean Tanja, but to be fair, it had sat in her purse for like 2 weeks before we brought it in.

"Isn't it true that you have been paid for this testimony?"
"Yes. You gave me a dollar and some candy."
"And yet you still won't say what I told you to say. How can any of us trust you?"