- In merrie olde England one of the most feared diseases was known as The Falling Sickness. Whilst I certainly don't have that, just lately I do seem to have caught the knack for falling down. Twice in the past few days I've taken a tumble, including falling UP the stairs at work this morning after misjudging a step. I saved the iPod but bashed a few fingertips (and my pride) in the process.
- Yes I did have a brief and appropriate earworm this morning of I'll Tumble For Ya by Culture Club.
- What age do you have to be before the word "fall" gains a capital letter? You go from having a fall, to having a Fall. I guess it's maybe less about age and more about consequences?
- It's only a short week this week, but I'm still celebrating hump day.
- I'm into the second week of a 5 week job change, relieving for an admin staff member who has gone on leave overseas. It's still technically part of my department, but I'm stationed in a different part of the university, at a different desk. Here's the thing, I hate the desk and chair set-up. Especially the tilt on the chair which some days makes my back a bit groany. So do I a) change everything to suit me and incur the potential gripes of the returning owner (a known curmudgeon), or b) tough it out? Which could be the lesser of the two evils?
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 05, 2011
5 Things About Wednesday, 5th October: Tumbling Edition
Friday, September 02, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
5 Things About Wednesday, 24th August: Cube Farm Edition
- The crushing disappointment of finishing your trip into the office, sitting down at your desk, and lifting the lid on your coffee... to find the normally reliable cafe (which every morning remembers both your name and your order) has given you the wrong coffee.
- Then finding the silver lining in the form of an opportunity to suck up to the boss, who likes a free cappucino very much indeed, as it turns out.
- I sit a glass panel and narrow walkway away from the staff break room, and fyi the tech guys in our area take the longest breaks, have the filthiest mouths, and the dullest anecdotes.
- I work in a very multicultural office, and from about 11.30am until around 3pm it's a constant parade of delicious Thai/Chinese/Indian/Middle Eastern smells. Even the Aussie guy who regularly makes toasted cheese sandwiches in the sandwich press manages to make it smell yummers, but maybe that's just my diet talking.
- It's working again today (hello, web surfing) but yesterday our intranet web server crashed, which meant that all the software applications I use (all of which are web based) were offline. I filed. I tidied. I looked out the window. I made lists. I washed my mug, twice. I've had marginally more productive days.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Positive Effort
In an introspective moment this morning it struck me how grateful I am for the changes that my life has gone through this year. As painful as the start of the year was, with work dramas and depression, the complete 180 degree turn around since then has been incredible. I feel healthy, happy, and most importantly I feel excited about the future. Considering that I was struggling to see any kind of positive future earlier in the year makes this feel kind of like a miracle.
And the most important thing is that I'm actually really proud of myself and that I've made this happen.
It's kind of weird to write that because bragging, tooting one's own horn (call it what you will), is something I can be kind of scathing about. But credit where credit is due, and I'm proud of the effort I've put in to move my life in a positive direction and so grateful of the fact that the effort has paid off.
One of the toughest things to get a handle on was my health. When I hit rock bottom in terms of how I was feeling physically and mentally I had hit 82.7kgs (182lbs). My blood pressure and cholesterol were high, my skin was in a constant Rosacea break out, and I was miserable about how I looked and felt. Tying my shoelaces, walking up stairs, catching an accidental sideways reflection in a store mirror, were all excercises that reflected physical and emotional shortcomings. I felt middle aged, fat and unhealthy. I wasn't huge, I don't want to overstate the situation here, but as a real shorty I had developed a pretty impressive belly and set of man boobs.
After being unemployed for about 5 weeks, feeling pretty low and about to become very broke, one morning I stuck out my chin and decided that I had to get a grip on things. I dug my heels in, dug out my old Weight Watchers points/calorie guides, went to the supermarket and bought a basket full of healthier food choices, and knuckled down for the fight. This was one thing I could control, even if the rest of my life felt like it was on the downhill slope.
In the first week I weighed myself and the numbers were good. I had achieved something positive, and I instantly felt better about myself. That for me is a really important lesson about depression too, when you feel frozen, stalled, you just have to achieve something that feels difficult. Do the dishes. Shower and get dressed. Go for a long walk. Something that you don't have the motivation to do, but is a goal that you can measure, big or small. As Peter (my beautiful new boyfriend for those of you tuning in late, but more on him later) would say, you just have to keep moving.
So, a new job arrived about this time. It's a temp contract but my team and I get along well, sometimes the work is a bit dull, but most importantly my effort is really appreciated. The stress is low, the pay is pretty good, and although it doesn't lead off into the distance as something permanent it's just fine for now. My stay has already been extended twice and I know that they want to keep me as long as they are possibly able.
The more things started to move, the better I felt. I stuck to my guns with the weight loss, and once I was in that feedback loop of effort and results it got easier and easier, to the point where as I write this I'm 70.1kgs (154lbs), and not too many kilos away from where I ultimately want to settle. Work is ticking along fine, and it now looks like my contract will be extended to the end of October. Even if that falls through, I feel confident that something else will come along.
Then one night last month a handsome young man who was tending bar started flirting with me, and after a few beers and a couple of hours of conversation over the bar I gave him my number. That was a big step for me, I'm very sociable but I don't always have a lot of confidence. I've dated plenty of guys, but I'm always surprised when somebody finds me attractive. I can be gregarious when I'm comfortable, but can also feel very shy. That night I was in a good mood, feeling pretty confident and upbeat, and Peter's natural friendliness and kindness put me at ease straight away.
We clicked immediately and praise be we continue to keep clicking. He's the most open, warm and funny person I could ever have hoped to meet, and we really get each other. It feels effortless, but even in that I can see the positive effort that we are both bringing to the table. There is effort involved in throwing caution to the wind, in making yourself open and trusting someone with all your vulnerabilities and your strengths. We both share a very similar moral compass, and in that I mean we see the world in very similar ways and have similar ethics even though our life experiences have been quite different.
So this entry is about counting my blessings, about reaffirming all that is positive in my life, and especially acknowledging that along the way I've had to make hundreds of little decisions and hundreds of little actions that have moved things along in the right direction. Chance has played a role too, but making decisions to grasp opportunities as they present themselves has been just as important. What a year it has been so far, and how excited I am to see what will happen next! And that is most definitely a 180 degree turn for the better.
And the most important thing is that I'm actually really proud of myself and that I've made this happen.
It's kind of weird to write that because bragging, tooting one's own horn (call it what you will), is something I can be kind of scathing about. But credit where credit is due, and I'm proud of the effort I've put in to move my life in a positive direction and so grateful of the fact that the effort has paid off.
One of the toughest things to get a handle on was my health. When I hit rock bottom in terms of how I was feeling physically and mentally I had hit 82.7kgs (182lbs). My blood pressure and cholesterol were high, my skin was in a constant Rosacea break out, and I was miserable about how I looked and felt. Tying my shoelaces, walking up stairs, catching an accidental sideways reflection in a store mirror, were all excercises that reflected physical and emotional shortcomings. I felt middle aged, fat and unhealthy. I wasn't huge, I don't want to overstate the situation here, but as a real shorty I had developed a pretty impressive belly and set of man boobs.
After being unemployed for about 5 weeks, feeling pretty low and about to become very broke, one morning I stuck out my chin and decided that I had to get a grip on things. I dug my heels in, dug out my old Weight Watchers points/calorie guides, went to the supermarket and bought a basket full of healthier food choices, and knuckled down for the fight. This was one thing I could control, even if the rest of my life felt like it was on the downhill slope.
In the first week I weighed myself and the numbers were good. I had achieved something positive, and I instantly felt better about myself. That for me is a really important lesson about depression too, when you feel frozen, stalled, you just have to achieve something that feels difficult. Do the dishes. Shower and get dressed. Go for a long walk. Something that you don't have the motivation to do, but is a goal that you can measure, big or small. As Peter (my beautiful new boyfriend for those of you tuning in late, but more on him later) would say, you just have to keep moving.
So, a new job arrived about this time. It's a temp contract but my team and I get along well, sometimes the work is a bit dull, but most importantly my effort is really appreciated. The stress is low, the pay is pretty good, and although it doesn't lead off into the distance as something permanent it's just fine for now. My stay has already been extended twice and I know that they want to keep me as long as they are possibly able.
The more things started to move, the better I felt. I stuck to my guns with the weight loss, and once I was in that feedback loop of effort and results it got easier and easier, to the point where as I write this I'm 70.1kgs (154lbs), and not too many kilos away from where I ultimately want to settle. Work is ticking along fine, and it now looks like my contract will be extended to the end of October. Even if that falls through, I feel confident that something else will come along.
Then one night last month a handsome young man who was tending bar started flirting with me, and after a few beers and a couple of hours of conversation over the bar I gave him my number. That was a big step for me, I'm very sociable but I don't always have a lot of confidence. I've dated plenty of guys, but I'm always surprised when somebody finds me attractive. I can be gregarious when I'm comfortable, but can also feel very shy. That night I was in a good mood, feeling pretty confident and upbeat, and Peter's natural friendliness and kindness put me at ease straight away.
We clicked immediately and praise be we continue to keep clicking. He's the most open, warm and funny person I could ever have hoped to meet, and we really get each other. It feels effortless, but even in that I can see the positive effort that we are both bringing to the table. There is effort involved in throwing caution to the wind, in making yourself open and trusting someone with all your vulnerabilities and your strengths. We both share a very similar moral compass, and in that I mean we see the world in very similar ways and have similar ethics even though our life experiences have been quite different.
So this entry is about counting my blessings, about reaffirming all that is positive in my life, and especially acknowledging that along the way I've had to make hundreds of little decisions and hundreds of little actions that have moved things along in the right direction. Chance has played a role too, but making decisions to grasp opportunities as they present themselves has been just as important. What a year it has been so far, and how excited I am to see what will happen next! And that is most definitely a 180 degree turn for the better.
Friday, May 27, 2011
I Am Alive
I am. Not just breathing. Not just with a heart pumping blood. Alive.
I should fill in some of the blanks on my unexpected, unplanned absence. Such a long list of "uns"; unhappy, undecided, unable. Unemployed. To name just a few.
I've come out of one of the most difficult times I have ever been through. So much unhappiness and anger, that some days I sat on the sofa (unwashed, there's another one) completely stalled. No cogs turning at all. After more than a month of this I thought "I should probably get some professional help".
I didn't, as it turns out. But I am writing this all in the past tense, so it is passed. Past. And good riddance.
By the end of last year I couldn't shake off stress and anxiety, and as the new year rolled around things seemed to be conspiring to up the ante. In late January I was fired from my job. Not retrenched. Not "let go". Not having a contract non renewed. Fired.
Fired by email in fact. By a boss who was so chicken shit, so inconsiderate and so unwilling to see how that might make me feel that he couldn't even speak to me face to face. A man who I thought considered me a peer. I still to this day don't have a real handle on the actual reasons, but I have (largely) gone past the point of caring now. It took a while.
Amusingly, and astoundingly, my boss fired me by email on a Monday and because of a busy week and a midweek public holiday I didn't read my home emails all week. I kept turning up for work, sitting at my desk alongside my boss, all week and he didn't say a thing. Not until he sent me a text message on the Friday night to tell me to read my emails. Such is the measure of the man, I figure.
So I never went back. Never said my goodbyes. Never got to give him the finger he so richly deserved. (And yes he broke the rules against unfair dismissal, and no I didn't pursue the legal action I could have. At the time I just couldn't.)
I spent all of February and much of March bouncing backwards and forwards between melancholy and rage. I ate. I sat on the couch. I cried a bit a few times. And then I decided that things had to change.
And they have. After being unemployed for about 7 weeks I landed myself a great job at a university. Working less hours, and taking home around $120 a week more than in my old job. Then about 4-5 weeks ago I decided I needed to get a grip on my depression era weight gain, and be more pro-active about my high blood pressure, and I started dieting and exercising more. I've now lost just under 6kgs and the gut is well and truly in retreat.
Things are good. I feel like I'm achieving something. Participating. Contributing. Being appreciated. And importantly feeling like I'm in control, energised and excited. Losing weight is a big part of that, and both a catalyst and a symptom of the process. I'm pulling my shit together, being disciplined, and in return I'm getting feedback and reinforcement every time I jump on the scales.
While I'm carefully watching what I eat that's not to say that I don't still want to serve up a big bowl of fuck you to my old boss. But maybe one day that dish can be served up cold.
I should fill in some of the blanks on my unexpected, unplanned absence. Such a long list of "uns"; unhappy, undecided, unable. Unemployed. To name just a few.
I've come out of one of the most difficult times I have ever been through. So much unhappiness and anger, that some days I sat on the sofa (unwashed, there's another one) completely stalled. No cogs turning at all. After more than a month of this I thought "I should probably get some professional help".
I didn't, as it turns out. But I am writing this all in the past tense, so it is passed. Past. And good riddance.
By the end of last year I couldn't shake off stress and anxiety, and as the new year rolled around things seemed to be conspiring to up the ante. In late January I was fired from my job. Not retrenched. Not "let go". Not having a contract non renewed. Fired.
Fired by email in fact. By a boss who was so chicken shit, so inconsiderate and so unwilling to see how that might make me feel that he couldn't even speak to me face to face. A man who I thought considered me a peer. I still to this day don't have a real handle on the actual reasons, but I have (largely) gone past the point of caring now. It took a while.
Amusingly, and astoundingly, my boss fired me by email on a Monday and because of a busy week and a midweek public holiday I didn't read my home emails all week. I kept turning up for work, sitting at my desk alongside my boss, all week and he didn't say a thing. Not until he sent me a text message on the Friday night to tell me to read my emails. Such is the measure of the man, I figure.
So I never went back. Never said my goodbyes. Never got to give him the finger he so richly deserved. (And yes he broke the rules against unfair dismissal, and no I didn't pursue the legal action I could have. At the time I just couldn't.)
I spent all of February and much of March bouncing backwards and forwards between melancholy and rage. I ate. I sat on the couch. I cried a bit a few times. And then I decided that things had to change.
And they have. After being unemployed for about 7 weeks I landed myself a great job at a university. Working less hours, and taking home around $120 a week more than in my old job. Then about 4-5 weeks ago I decided I needed to get a grip on my depression era weight gain, and be more pro-active about my high blood pressure, and I started dieting and exercising more. I've now lost just under 6kgs and the gut is well and truly in retreat.
Things are good. I feel like I'm achieving something. Participating. Contributing. Being appreciated. And importantly feeling like I'm in control, energised and excited. Losing weight is a big part of that, and both a catalyst and a symptom of the process. I'm pulling my shit together, being disciplined, and in return I'm getting feedback and reinforcement every time I jump on the scales.
While I'm carefully watching what I eat that's not to say that I don't still want to serve up a big bowl of fuck you to my old boss. But maybe one day that dish can be served up cold.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
A Christmas Miracle
This is the honest truth, yesterday I served a customer by the name of Mrs Clauss. Mrs Claus! (Almost, just overlook the slight spelling variation.) So I had to ask, and yes the novelty wore thin many years ago. Right about the time that she made her phone number silent.
Monday, December 20, 2010
The To Do List, Done.
Sometimes it irks me that I work every Saturday, when fun events are planned that I have to either miss or show up hours late for. What I don't ever mind though is that my "Sunday" is Monday. Having a week day to get stuff done, even if it's just to go and see a movie in a deserted cinema (bliss). When that Monday is on the same insanely busy week as Christmas it's extra appreciated. So this morning I woke up early and got the ball rolling on a day that came with a whole To Do List of its own.
First off I had to catch a bus to the hardware store. The hardware supermarket. Actually if anyone still uses the term hypermart then that's what this place is. My sister and brother in law are renovating their house, so the desired gift of choice this year was a gift card. A Bunnings hardware hypermart gift card. So I got on a bus and travelled the 10 stops to my nearest outlet, one of the hyperest of the hypermarts.
Here's a thing about hardware stores, of this variety... they discriminate against non drivers. Or more accurately we are probably just completely off their radar. First off there is no real clear pedestrian access to the place, you just have to take your life in your own hands and walk up the same ramp access that all the cars use. Then once you've made your modest purchases (because duh, one can't carry the bulky stuff home on the bus) any request for a carry bag is denied. It's a recycled box (handy for the boot of the car!) or nothing. So having bought an armload full of outdoor solar lighting (tall, thin, bollard style lights and a steal at $4 each!) I then did an inefficient juggling routine on the bus ride home.
All this before 9.30am. Then I headed out again and got on yet another bus and headed into the city to buy the last gift I had to get for my family. Fast forward through me wandering the aisles of a DVD almost-hypermart picking out about a dozen non-purchased gifts for myself, and one actual one for my sister. (Plus hanging out for a short while in the Gay & Lesbian section just to see who else shops those shelves.) A kind of brunch on the run, and then another bus ride home for a frenzy of gift wrapping prior to heading to the Post Office and squeezing in a haircut.
I'm so glad I made the change from getting $75 haircuts in a chi-chi salon to getting $15 haircuts in an old fashioned barber shop. 9 times out of 10 I'm happier with the cut, I'm certainly happier to leave $60 still in my pocketses, and I like the vibe of the place. The blue liquid the combs sit in. The 40+ year old formica*. The angled mirrors that line the narrow railway carriage of a place, designed specifically (it would seem) so that I can revel in the fact that my 46 year old pate bears no signs of impending bald spotness.
The guys that work there are friendly enough, efficient, and not the least bit interested in asking about where I plan on going on my holidays. Best of all there's a kind of pleasant yang quality about the experience. A kind of honour system that may well be the last bastion of gentlemanly behaviour is in operation, everyone knows where they are in the queue and as gentlemen one and all we all take our turns. Plus, in true Newtown fashion, it's a melting pot of all sorts of guys; young dads, old Greek grandpas, hipsters in what looks like vintage workwear (and ironic mustaches sometimes), and the gays. Like me.
Oh, score of the day! On the short walk home from the barber I found the Christmas cook book by one of my culinary gurus Elizabeth David further reduced to $9.95! Thank you Universe. It was $16.95 just a few days back. Given that it was originally about $30, and my need for more Elizabeth David in my life, I had to give myself a wee treat.
We're not quite done yet, but we're on the home stretch. I put my feet up for an hour and then it was another brush with bus going community of Sydney. Back into the city again for my work Christmas get together. Nibbles, drinkies and a fun present swapping Kris Kringle game ensued, before I caught my last bus of the day.
Maybe this non-driving thing has its drawbacks after all?
* Not a wild guess, the place proudly advertises it opened in '66.
First off I had to catch a bus to the hardware store. The hardware supermarket. Actually if anyone still uses the term hypermart then that's what this place is. My sister and brother in law are renovating their house, so the desired gift of choice this year was a gift card. A Bunnings hardware hypermart gift card. So I got on a bus and travelled the 10 stops to my nearest outlet, one of the hyperest of the hypermarts.
Here's a thing about hardware stores, of this variety... they discriminate against non drivers. Or more accurately we are probably just completely off their radar. First off there is no real clear pedestrian access to the place, you just have to take your life in your own hands and walk up the same ramp access that all the cars use. Then once you've made your modest purchases (because duh, one can't carry the bulky stuff home on the bus) any request for a carry bag is denied. It's a recycled box (handy for the boot of the car!) or nothing. So having bought an armload full of outdoor solar lighting (tall, thin, bollard style lights and a steal at $4 each!) I then did an inefficient juggling routine on the bus ride home.
All this before 9.30am. Then I headed out again and got on yet another bus and headed into the city to buy the last gift I had to get for my family. Fast forward through me wandering the aisles of a DVD almost-hypermart picking out about a dozen non-purchased gifts for myself, and one actual one for my sister. (Plus hanging out for a short while in the Gay & Lesbian section just to see who else shops those shelves.) A kind of brunch on the run, and then another bus ride home for a frenzy of gift wrapping prior to heading to the Post Office and squeezing in a haircut.
I'm so glad I made the change from getting $75 haircuts in a chi-chi salon to getting $15 haircuts in an old fashioned barber shop. 9 times out of 10 I'm happier with the cut, I'm certainly happier to leave $60 still in my pocketses, and I like the vibe of the place. The blue liquid the combs sit in. The 40+ year old formica*. The angled mirrors that line the narrow railway carriage of a place, designed specifically (it would seem) so that I can revel in the fact that my 46 year old pate bears no signs of impending bald spotness.
The guys that work there are friendly enough, efficient, and not the least bit interested in asking about where I plan on going on my holidays. Best of all there's a kind of pleasant yang quality about the experience. A kind of honour system that may well be the last bastion of gentlemanly behaviour is in operation, everyone knows where they are in the queue and as gentlemen one and all we all take our turns. Plus, in true Newtown fashion, it's a melting pot of all sorts of guys; young dads, old Greek grandpas, hipsters in what looks like vintage workwear (and ironic mustaches sometimes), and the gays. Like me.
Oh, score of the day! On the short walk home from the barber I found the Christmas cook book by one of my culinary gurus Elizabeth David further reduced to $9.95! Thank you Universe. It was $16.95 just a few days back. Given that it was originally about $30, and my need for more Elizabeth David in my life, I had to give myself a wee treat.
We're not quite done yet, but we're on the home stretch. I put my feet up for an hour and then it was another brush with bus going community of Sydney. Back into the city again for my work Christmas get together. Nibbles, drinkies and a fun present swapping Kris Kringle game ensued, before I caught my last bus of the day.
Maybe this non-driving thing has its drawbacks after all?
* Not a wild guess, the place proudly advertises it opened in '66.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
A Good One
Even though Tuesdays are essentially my Mondays (my weekend is Sunday & Monday), a quick mental inventory this morning revealed not a hint of Tuesday-itis. I was awake an hour earlier than I needed to be, but already the sun was shining brightly and my outlook was equally sunny. Who knew? So instead of rolling over and trying to get some more sleep I decided to carpe the diem and get going.
While I was pottering and getting ready it struck me that it has been a long, long time since I walked into work. Home to work is around 5kms (3-ish miles) and is far enough to get a bit of a sweat on, but not so far that I feel exhausted for the rest of the day. This morning was more like Summer than Spring, so I put on my sturdy shoes and some sunscreen and I walked to work.
I took a different route than I used to and I think it shaved a bit of time off my old walk. I made it in well under an hour without pushing it, and according to Google Maps my route was 4.9kms. Pleasant. You know how once you spot someone on crutches/with their arm in a sling or whatever, it seems like you continue to spot them for the rest of the day? This morning it was discarded televisions. In a half hour walk, and not walking through an area full of rubbish, I spotted three. That's statistically significant, surely?
My work day was pleasant. This morning's coffee was good. We had plenty of staff on for what turned out to be a fairly quiet day. The office was pretty quiet too, and I was able to concentrate on my work without too many interruptions. I even made enough space in the day to do some creative work, and make a big dent in the planning for the store promotions and windows for the 3 stores for the next 12 months. Yay.
Then when I got home there was a slim parcel poking out of my letterbox. Squee. A CD I should have bought years ago (considering what a huge fan I am) and finally got around to ordering from Amazon UK, after not finding it anywhere here in Sydney. (On sale too, it only cost me something like $10!)
The Platinum Collection. The very best of the very best. Even the crack in the back of the gem case couldn't put a dent in this day.
While I was pottering and getting ready it struck me that it has been a long, long time since I walked into work. Home to work is around 5kms (3-ish miles) and is far enough to get a bit of a sweat on, but not so far that I feel exhausted for the rest of the day. This morning was more like Summer than Spring, so I put on my sturdy shoes and some sunscreen and I walked to work.
I took a different route than I used to and I think it shaved a bit of time off my old walk. I made it in well under an hour without pushing it, and according to Google Maps my route was 4.9kms. Pleasant. You know how once you spot someone on crutches/with their arm in a sling or whatever, it seems like you continue to spot them for the rest of the day? This morning it was discarded televisions. In a half hour walk, and not walking through an area full of rubbish, I spotted three. That's statistically significant, surely?
My work day was pleasant. This morning's coffee was good. We had plenty of staff on for what turned out to be a fairly quiet day. The office was pretty quiet too, and I was able to concentrate on my work without too many interruptions. I even made enough space in the day to do some creative work, and make a big dent in the planning for the store promotions and windows for the 3 stores for the next 12 months. Yay.
Then when I got home there was a slim parcel poking out of my letterbox. Squee. A CD I should have bought years ago (considering what a huge fan I am) and finally got around to ordering from Amazon UK, after not finding it anywhere here in Sydney. (On sale too, it only cost me something like $10!)
The Platinum Collection. The very best of the very best. Even the crack in the back of the gem case couldn't put a dent in this day.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Recharging - Do Not Disconnect!
Yesterday it struck me how much of my life is forever on recharge. I say 'struck me' because getting on the bus to go to work yesterday I discovered that there was no juice, no life, no anything left in my mobile phone, or my iPod. Ugh. (The real armageddon comes not with the fall of civilisation, but a couple of days later when nobody can listen to the latest Kylie through their earbuds.)
Toothbrush. Beard trimmer. All on the recharge list. If I was any butcher I'd probably add a cordless drill to that too.
So I'm on recharge this morning (in more ways than one). The phone and the iPod are plugged in and I'm doing my own recharge with a coffee, some web surfing from the sofa and a bacon butty. My cold of the week previous turned into the past week's chest infection, and coupled with an insane week at work, meant that by the end of this week I was running out of juice myself. As I said to my boss on Friday, this sale is breaking my spirit.
Oy vay. May you live in interesting times, as the Chinese curse supposedly goes. The last week of our big four week Winter sale coupled with having a class to teach yesterday (due to a scheduling snafu, we don't normally hold classes during our sale) and a mostly unrelated, but cascading series of resignations at work, made for a rather busy week.
That's understatement, fyi.
The previous week saw the resignation of our general manager and inhouse designer, who took a job in the fashion industry. Then our shop manager resigned, to take a job in the finance and banking industry. Then our Melbourne store manager (who is only 19 years old) decided she wanted to study, and resigned. Then one of our casual staff (and a favourite of mine, boo!) resigned because she can't keep pace with working for us and finishing her medical degree. Then my arch nemesis resigned, without even bothering to show her face and do it in person...
So, mostly bad.
After the required reeling, my boss and I were galvanised into action and we've already got two potential candidate's for the shop manager position in the main Sydney store. It's also allowed us to think about some restructuring of the Melbourne store, and to think about how we want the staffing of the Sydney store. I'm currently wading through many (frequently laughable) applications for the shop assistants positions we advertised. Seriously, would it kill you people to read the job description, and at least make some attempt to write English/address the job criteria/include a cover letter/use a spell checker?
Not all change is bad, and although it means some short term scrabbling I think it will allow us to make positive changes in the store and reinvigorate the place. Get some new juice back in the batteries, to risk overstretching a metaphor. Time for a recharge, indeed.
Toothbrush. Beard trimmer. All on the recharge list. If I was any butcher I'd probably add a cordless drill to that too.
So I'm on recharge this morning (in more ways than one). The phone and the iPod are plugged in and I'm doing my own recharge with a coffee, some web surfing from the sofa and a bacon butty. My cold of the week previous turned into the past week's chest infection, and coupled with an insane week at work, meant that by the end of this week I was running out of juice myself. As I said to my boss on Friday, this sale is breaking my spirit.
Oy vay. May you live in interesting times, as the Chinese curse supposedly goes. The last week of our big four week Winter sale coupled with having a class to teach yesterday (due to a scheduling snafu, we don't normally hold classes during our sale) and a mostly unrelated, but cascading series of resignations at work, made for a rather busy week.
That's understatement, fyi.
The previous week saw the resignation of our general manager and inhouse designer, who took a job in the fashion industry. Then our shop manager resigned, to take a job in the finance and banking industry. Then our Melbourne store manager (who is only 19 years old) decided she wanted to study, and resigned. Then one of our casual staff (and a favourite of mine, boo!) resigned because she can't keep pace with working for us and finishing her medical degree. Then my arch nemesis resigned, without even bothering to show her face and do it in person...
So, mostly bad.
After the required reeling, my boss and I were galvanised into action and we've already got two potential candidate's for the shop manager position in the main Sydney store. It's also allowed us to think about some restructuring of the Melbourne store, and to think about how we want the staffing of the Sydney store. I'm currently wading through many (frequently laughable) applications for the shop assistants positions we advertised. Seriously, would it kill you people to read the job description, and at least make some attempt to write English/address the job criteria/include a cover letter/use a spell checker?
Not all change is bad, and although it means some short term scrabbling I think it will allow us to make positive changes in the store and reinvigorate the place. Get some new juice back in the batteries, to risk overstretching a metaphor. Time for a recharge, indeed.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Rhinovirus And I. Not A Love Story
Blech. My second cold of the year. Yesterday a co-worker of mine shared her theory that colds come in three year cycles, and while I'm not prepared to trawl back through the past three years of blog entries for proof, I wouldn't be surprised if it'd been something around three years prior to this year since I had a streaming head cold. (Right now I'm too fuzzy headed to do any sort of maths, or thinking for that matter.)
So, a hellish busy day at work. Week three of our sale and I'm battling this cold and a serious case of Sale Fatigue. We were short staffed today on account of other sick staff, and I never had any less than two customers at the counter. One. More. Week. To. Go. I love our customers (at least about 95% of them) but I'm counting down the days until there are a few less of them, quite frankly.
So. Friday night. Nursing a cold and achey bones. Next on the agenda a hot honey and lemon drink, and then bed. I have to work tomorrow, but unless I feel better (or at least not worse) I might have to call in dead. In the back of mind though I know that that would mean a terrible day for the few staff left to serve the Saturday onslaught. Not something I would wish on any of them. Anyway, we shall see.
Now, to bed. Nighty night.
Friday, June 04, 2010
Wine Time
I just poured myself a glass of red wine and I'm sitting down to think about the (almost) end of a long busy week. And e-x-h-a-l-e. (I say 'almost end' because I have to work tomorrow, but it's hard to not think of Friday night as the end of the week.)
Last night and tonight I feel physically, achingly, exhausted. I frequently feel tired when I get home from work, but that's often as much mental weariness as anything, rather than feeling bone tired. Knackered. This week is making me feel old! We're on sale at work, as I mentioned on Saturday, and it has been insanely busy. We still have weeks to go but frankly by late today I was over it.
Well, mostly over it. I've had some truly wonderful customers this week, gotten some lovely feedback, had some fun conversations, and enjoyed interacting with people who have been on the most part pretty stoked to be getting a bargain. Today was the first day that I had a noticeable percentage of whiny customers, but I swear it's probably as much the weather as anything.
It's dark. It's rainy. It's really dark, and really rainy. All week it's been dark and rainy when I head off to work, and dark and rainy when I come home. Blech.
So, I just administered apple pie for desert and now it's time for a medicinal beverage. Maybe two. But no more because tomorrow we face the Saturday shopping crowds...
And the forecast says yet more rain.
Last night and tonight I feel physically, achingly, exhausted. I frequently feel tired when I get home from work, but that's often as much mental weariness as anything, rather than feeling bone tired. Knackered. This week is making me feel old! We're on sale at work, as I mentioned on Saturday, and it has been insanely busy. We still have weeks to go but frankly by late today I was over it.
Well, mostly over it. I've had some truly wonderful customers this week, gotten some lovely feedback, had some fun conversations, and enjoyed interacting with people who have been on the most part pretty stoked to be getting a bargain. Today was the first day that I had a noticeable percentage of whiny customers, but I swear it's probably as much the weather as anything.
It's dark. It's rainy. It's really dark, and really rainy. All week it's been dark and rainy when I head off to work, and dark and rainy when I come home. Blech.
So, I just administered apple pie for desert and now it's time for a medicinal beverage. Maybe two. But no more because tomorrow we face the Saturday shopping crowds...
And the forecast says yet more rain.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
The World Has Gone Mad For Yarn
At least that's how it felt today.
Yesterday I pulled a 12 hour work day, getting ready for our annual Winter yarn sale at work. We finally crawled out of the store at 9 o'clock last night, tired, a little sore (all that up and down ladders is telling on my middle aged bones) and a lot exhausted. By the time I battled the wintry night, and a drunken Friday night crowd on the train, I was well and truly ready for bed.
Except, as often happens, it took me until midnight to unwind enough to actually go to bed.
So today I was already feeling a bit worn when I arrived at work, and that was before the onslaught. Our Winter Sale is always busy. Winter for knitters is like Christmas for kids, the source of much anticipation and excitement. And socks (except in this case they're not a disappointing present from your Nan).
OMG. Busy doesn't even begin to cut it. We took our in store record for the biggest opening day of the Winter Sale and we smashed it to pieces. From 9am we didn't not have a queue at the counter. In fact at times it stretched through the store to the back door. Everyone was unfailingly polite and friendly, which made a crazy day that could have been horrendous quite fun instead. People queued, they were gracious when we apologised for the wait, they even helped each other out and let people in a hurry with small purchases go ahead. Meanwhile I was stunned when I put through a sale for over $1,600 (OF. YARN.) ad then I saw one of my co-workers put one through for over $2,000.
We officially close at 4pm on a Saturday, but we only closed the door at 5.45pm.
By the time I walked out into another cold and wet night I was completely and thoroughly knackered. Bed soon methinks.
Yesterday I pulled a 12 hour work day, getting ready for our annual Winter yarn sale at work. We finally crawled out of the store at 9 o'clock last night, tired, a little sore (all that up and down ladders is telling on my middle aged bones) and a lot exhausted. By the time I battled the wintry night, and a drunken Friday night crowd on the train, I was well and truly ready for bed.
Except, as often happens, it took me until midnight to unwind enough to actually go to bed.
So today I was already feeling a bit worn when I arrived at work, and that was before the onslaught. Our Winter Sale is always busy. Winter for knitters is like Christmas for kids, the source of much anticipation and excitement. And socks (except in this case they're not a disappointing present from your Nan).
OMG. Busy doesn't even begin to cut it. We took our in store record for the biggest opening day of the Winter Sale and we smashed it to pieces. From 9am we didn't not have a queue at the counter. In fact at times it stretched through the store to the back door. Everyone was unfailingly polite and friendly, which made a crazy day that could have been horrendous quite fun instead. People queued, they were gracious when we apologised for the wait, they even helped each other out and let people in a hurry with small purchases go ahead. Meanwhile I was stunned when I put through a sale for over $1,600 (OF. YARN.) ad then I saw one of my co-workers put one through for over $2,000.
We officially close at 4pm on a Saturday, but we only closed the door at 5.45pm.
By the time I walked out into another cold and wet night I was completely and thoroughly knackered. Bed soon methinks.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
[Inside Voice] Outside Voice
To set the scene, I spent all of today on my own in the new (net yet open) store putting stock on the shelves. With the iPod in my ears. With occasional sing-along/bop-along action.
...:::LOUD KNOCK:::...
Me:
["Who's that?"] "Um. Can I help you?"
Unknown Woman:
"Got any mohair?"
Me (pointedly looking at the papered over windows with COMING SOON signage):
["Oh, GREAT. a) rude! b) are you serious? c) anyway, "got" is a lazy word*] "Sorry, we're not open yet."
Unknown Woman:
"I thought you'd want to sell me some mohair."
Me:
["You would think I'd WANT to, wouldn't you?"] "We'll be open in a week... or two."
Unknown Woman:
"I'll be gone by then."
Me:
["Good riddance!"] "Um, okay"
*To this very day I hesitate to use the words "got" and "get", courtesy of one of my better High School English teachers who dubbed them lazy. "Acquired", "received", "bought"... any word that was more specific and more of a stretch of vocabulary was preferred.
...:::LOUD KNOCK:::...
Me:
["Who's that?"] "Um. Can I help you?"
Unknown Woman:
"Got any mohair?"
Me (pointedly looking at the papered over windows with COMING SOON signage):
["Oh, GREAT. a) rude! b) are you serious? c) anyway, "got" is a lazy word*] "Sorry, we're not open yet."
Unknown Woman:
"I thought you'd want to sell me some mohair."
Me:
["You would think I'd WANT to, wouldn't you?"] "We'll be open in a week... or two."
Unknown Woman:
"I'll be gone by then."
Me:
["Good riddance!"] "Um, okay"
*To this very day I hesitate to use the words "got" and "get", courtesy of one of my better High School English teachers who dubbed them lazy. "Acquired", "received", "bought"... any word that was more specific and more of a stretch of vocabulary was preferred.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
With Heurisitic Intentions
These days my regular work week in the yarn store is Tuesday to Saturday, and one of my semi-regular Saturday afternoon gigs is to teach the knitting classes. I figure that now that I've taught my third Beginners Knitting classes, and one Intermediate Knitting class, I can accurately describe myself as a Knitting Teacher. I teach, therefore I am (one, that is).
It's tiring, as the class is 3 hours of being 'on', but we limit the class to 10 people and that's much more manageable than trying to teach a huge group. I get to spend plenty of time with each person and demonstrate the techniques one on one. Bringing the Magic of Knitting into their lives from my evangelican pulpit.
I used to teach people how to use bookkeeping software years ago, and enjoyed the one on one tutoring, but I was a little hesitant to start teaching a group. Despite indicators to the contrary (ie: blogging) I'm not normally one who enjoys the spotlight. (I prefer the Left of Centre to the Centre of Attention.)
But I'm loving it. We hand out feedback forms at the end of each class and my students have been most generous in their praise. Sometimes it pains me to see that some people struggle to get it, but hand/eye coordination is just not some people's bag. It become obvious that some have never attempted anything creative before, and are not brilliant with the fine motor skills that come with any form of art or craft.
On the other hand the rewards can be amazing. I taught my first intermediate class last weekend and 3 of my students from a previous beginners class were there. (Puffed up with pride would pretty much cover it.) Then today I had a really fun group that included one young woman who was intellectually disabled (her own description).
I met her during the week when she dropped in to show me some of her first attempt at knitting, and to discuss whether I thought she'd be able to do the class. Today she came along and she did brilliantly. She already knew the basics of the knit stitch, but I taught her how to cast-on, purl and cast off. At the end of the class she must have thanked me at least half a dozen times, and she couldn't wait to get home and show her family how much more she'd learnt.
Actually it's her I needed to thank, because it made for one of the most rewarding afternoons I've ever had at work.
It's tiring, as the class is 3 hours of being 'on', but we limit the class to 10 people and that's much more manageable than trying to teach a huge group. I get to spend plenty of time with each person and demonstrate the techniques one on one. Bringing the Magic of Knitting into their lives from my evangelican pulpit.
I used to teach people how to use bookkeeping software years ago, and enjoyed the one on one tutoring, but I was a little hesitant to start teaching a group. Despite indicators to the contrary (ie: blogging) I'm not normally one who enjoys the spotlight. (I prefer the Left of Centre to the Centre of Attention.)
But I'm loving it. We hand out feedback forms at the end of each class and my students have been most generous in their praise. Sometimes it pains me to see that some people struggle to get it, but hand/eye coordination is just not some people's bag. It become obvious that some have never attempted anything creative before, and are not brilliant with the fine motor skills that come with any form of art or craft.
On the other hand the rewards can be amazing. I taught my first intermediate class last weekend and 3 of my students from a previous beginners class were there. (Puffed up with pride would pretty much cover it.) Then today I had a really fun group that included one young woman who was intellectually disabled (her own description).
I met her during the week when she dropped in to show me some of her first attempt at knitting, and to discuss whether I thought she'd be able to do the class. Today she came along and she did brilliantly. She already knew the basics of the knit stitch, but I taught her how to cast-on, purl and cast off. At the end of the class she must have thanked me at least half a dozen times, and she couldn't wait to get home and show her family how much more she'd learnt.
Actually it's her I needed to thank, because it made for one of the most rewarding afternoons I've ever had at work.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Give Me Back My Life!
Oh man, I am still struggling along with this chest cold. What cold lasts for nearly two weeks?! I haven't had an actual cold for ages, so I guess I was overdue for one (if there's a quota system, that is). I'm such an overachiever. It's not bronchitis though, I've been down that road many times before and so far so good. Nearly two weeks later I still have all the stuffy head/sore throat symptoms of a cold.
Blech.
It's not bad enough to keep me away from work, but just bad enough to be really annoying. Stopping me from doing anything other than going to work, making some dinner and going to be each evening. Frankly, I should be healthy, wealthy AND wise by now with all the early nights I've had.
Blech.
It's not bad enough to keep me away from work, but just bad enough to be really annoying. Stopping me from doing anything other than going to work, making some dinner and going to be each evening. Frankly, I should be healthy, wealthy AND wise by now with all the early nights I've had.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Melbourne
My little day trip to Melbourne was fun, but exhausting. My cab to the airport arrived a little early, so I left home at around 5.30am and was at the airport about a quarter to 6. IN THE MORNING. I'm an early riser but that's ridiculous.
Naturalmente my first stop was the little coffee bar in the departures lounge (where I got myself a surprisingly good cup of morning joe). I spotted my co-worker disappearing through the departures gate so I gave her a quick call and confirmed that she'd already checked me in at the electronic ticket kiosk thingy. Truly, I miss some of the glamour of pre-deregulation air travel in Oz but being able to do so much of the process online and being able to check-in ahead are pretty convenient improvements. Aussies, remember when we had to ring up the day before and confirm the flight?
Mind you, at times I would kill for a bit of proper in-flight service. Cutlery. Glassware. Hot food. Hotter flight attendants.
We got into Melbourne before the shop opened, and the shop manager was stuck on a delayed train and so her plans of opening up early for us were dashed. So we headed off to Degraves Street nearby for breakfast. Fortified by a truly fantastic cup of coffee and a delicious BLT baguette we headed back to the shop and worked solidly until 5pm.
I installed windows, I drew up plans, I measured, I discussed options and at one point I even got the iron out and ironed a banner that we later hung in the window. The shop looked pretty good, just in need of a bit of tweaking, some layout adjustments and making some of the displays look a little stronger.
We flew back on mega-cheap Tiger Airways. From the hastily built demountable terminal, to the long Av Gas scented walk across the tarmac, to the worn fabrics on the seat, travel with Tiger was an experience. A couple of the cabin crew were very friendly but they all seemed very young and some quite inept. Especially the chief flight attendant (no 'purser' here) who kept stuffing up the safety drill announcement, making some of the other crew giggle. Still, a shortish flight and a $6 beer later we arrived back at Sydney airport about 8pm.
Completely knackered.
Somewhere along the line I also picked up a cold, so I'm going to head into the office late this morning. I just wish I could get another of those BLT baguettes before I do so.
Naturalmente my first stop was the little coffee bar in the departures lounge (where I got myself a surprisingly good cup of morning joe). I spotted my co-worker disappearing through the departures gate so I gave her a quick call and confirmed that she'd already checked me in at the electronic ticket kiosk thingy. Truly, I miss some of the glamour of pre-deregulation air travel in Oz but being able to do so much of the process online and being able to check-in ahead are pretty convenient improvements. Aussies, remember when we had to ring up the day before and confirm the flight?
Mind you, at times I would kill for a bit of proper in-flight service. Cutlery. Glassware. Hot food. Hotter flight attendants.
We got into Melbourne before the shop opened, and the shop manager was stuck on a delayed train and so her plans of opening up early for us were dashed. So we headed off to Degraves Street nearby for breakfast. Fortified by a truly fantastic cup of coffee and a delicious BLT baguette we headed back to the shop and worked solidly until 5pm.
I installed windows, I drew up plans, I measured, I discussed options and at one point I even got the iron out and ironed a banner that we later hung in the window. The shop looked pretty good, just in need of a bit of tweaking, some layout adjustments and making some of the displays look a little stronger.
We flew back on mega-cheap Tiger Airways. From the hastily built demountable terminal, to the long Av Gas scented walk across the tarmac, to the worn fabrics on the seat, travel with Tiger was an experience. A couple of the cabin crew were very friendly but they all seemed very young and some quite inept. Especially the chief flight attendant (no 'purser' here) who kept stuffing up the safety drill announcement, making some of the other crew giggle. Still, a shortish flight and a $6 beer later we arrived back at Sydney airport about 8pm.
Completely knackered.
Somewhere along the line I also picked up a cold, so I'm going to head into the office late this morning. I just wish I could get another of those BLT baguettes before I do so.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A Little Piece
Nomotta yarns were right, a little piece of you does go into everything you knit!
Here's a pic of something that a lot of me went into, the 'Logan' oversized neckwarmer that I designed and sample knitted for the Autumn fashion windows at the store I work at:
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It's not overly complicated, essentially just a huge tube of 2x2 rib, but I wanted it to be something that was dramatic and a real statement piece. (This is not a child's mannequin I shot this on, but a full sized adult one. This thing is BIG.)
I was inspired by some of the chunky knits that have made their way down catwalks recently, and by some of the early works of Sandra Backlund, so I worked this in 2 strands of 8ply (aka 'double knit') held double on chunky circular needles. Even with the chunky needles it soaked up the yarn like a sponge (12 balls in total) and took me quite a while to knit. Knitting to a deadline is not as much fun as knitting for pleasure, and as the deadline for the window display approached I spent much of my free time knitting this behemoth.
I was originally going to make it a bit smaller, but our in house designer suggested I really go for it dimensions wise. I was worried that it wouldn't work after I cast it off as being rib it stretches out to a HUGE size when you hold it up, but I always imagined it as something that could be twisted up dramatically like this, or pulled up as a hood. Combined with the other 4 garments in the window (all variations on this tubular neckwarmer/cowl idea or big textured wraps) it makes a really dramatic statement and is probably one of the more high fashion windows we've tried. I've noticed lots of younger women stopping to look at them, and we've already had offers to buy the samples outright (including one woman who wanted all of them).
We've had a whole second set of samples made for our Melbourne store in different colours (their "Logan" is a warm French grey), which thankfully I didn't have to knit. Tomorrow I'm catching the red eye to Melbourne to do a store visit, look at how we can improve their visual merchandising in general, and help install their version of the windows. Fun!
Except for the bit where I have to be at the airport at 6.10am...
Monday, April 12, 2010
Archie
I had a really broken night's sleep last night, finally culminating in me losing my patience with tossing and turning and getting up not long after 5am. Sadly (sometimes) I'm one of those people that wakes up easily and is fully awake in a finger snap, so the only thing for it is to get up, or maybe read, but do anything other than lie in bed and wait for tiredness to return. My regular working week is Tuesday to Saturday these days, so I wasn't stressed about having to get up early for work this morning.
So I pottered around a bit, then came back to bed and watched youtube clips of the earlier seasons (not shown in Australia) of my beloved tv show QI. [Official website and QI on youtube.] I could not love Stephen Fry more! It's true. About 7am I started to get drowsy, so I rolled over and went back to sleep until just before 9am.
I hadn't been up long when my friend Judy rang about 9.30 and suggested we head on in to the Art Gallery of NSW to see the portrait competition The Archibald Prize. Judy doesn't work any more and so she and I often use my Mondays off to catch up and do fun stuff. Today also dawned a glorious mild day, so it was lovely to get out and about in it.
It also saved me from my one big 'plan' for the day. Housework.
One thing I love about urban Australians is just how much we appreciate and use our galleries. The Archibald has been going strong since 1921 and is so heavily patronised that they have to have crowd control. Winners, and the inevitable controversies, make the prime time news. There's a people's choice selection, and a 'packers prize' for the favourite of the storeroom packers. Even on a Monday morning the line for the exhibition snaked around into another gallery space.
These days a ticket into the Archibald also gets you into its 2 sister competitions, the Wynne Prize (landscape paining or figurative sculpture) and the Sulman Prize (subject, genre or mural painting). For only the third time since 1921, this year the Wynne and Archibald were won by the same artist, Sam Leach. I had a shortlist of favourite's in both exhibitions, but was completely entranced by Leach's 2 small jewel like paintings (especially his landscape), so I had no quibble with the outcome.
The first thing I spotted when we walked into the Archibald was a huge portrait of a musical favourite of mine CW Stoneking.
I only discovered Stoneking recently but I'm swept away by his unique pre-war jazz and blues style. To quote his website his work swings from "lonesome field holler blues, to hokum blues duets, to full blown jungle epics". His songs make me think of prohibition gin, mixed race bayou bars and rolled down stocking tops. Amazingly for someone so steeped in blues traditions, although he was born to American parents Stoneking is an Aussie and lives in Melbourne.
After a truly fab ramble through the gallery, some lunch, and a walk through the park, we ended up where else but at Tiffany's. (I don't ever think I've stood as straight.) We strolled further, fondled some cashmere at House of Cashmere, bought comestibles at the David Jones foodhall, browsed for books, and had tea in The Strand Arcade before heading for home late in the afternoon.
Housework be damned.
So I pottered around a bit, then came back to bed and watched youtube clips of the earlier seasons (not shown in Australia) of my beloved tv show QI. [Official website and QI on youtube.] I could not love Stephen Fry more! It's true. About 7am I started to get drowsy, so I rolled over and went back to sleep until just before 9am.
I hadn't been up long when my friend Judy rang about 9.30 and suggested we head on in to the Art Gallery of NSW to see the portrait competition The Archibald Prize. Judy doesn't work any more and so she and I often use my Mondays off to catch up and do fun stuff. Today also dawned a glorious mild day, so it was lovely to get out and about in it.
It also saved me from my one big 'plan' for the day. Housework.
One thing I love about urban Australians is just how much we appreciate and use our galleries. The Archibald has been going strong since 1921 and is so heavily patronised that they have to have crowd control. Winners, and the inevitable controversies, make the prime time news. There's a people's choice selection, and a 'packers prize' for the favourite of the storeroom packers. Even on a Monday morning the line for the exhibition snaked around into another gallery space.
These days a ticket into the Archibald also gets you into its 2 sister competitions, the Wynne Prize (landscape paining or figurative sculpture) and the Sulman Prize (subject, genre or mural painting). For only the third time since 1921, this year the Wynne and Archibald were won by the same artist, Sam Leach. I had a shortlist of favourite's in both exhibitions, but was completely entranced by Leach's 2 small jewel like paintings (especially his landscape), so I had no quibble with the outcome.
The first thing I spotted when we walked into the Archibald was a huge portrait of a musical favourite of mine CW Stoneking.
"CW Stoneking" by Cara Fletcher
I only discovered Stoneking recently but I'm swept away by his unique pre-war jazz and blues style. To quote his website his work swings from "lonesome field holler blues, to hokum blues duets, to full blown jungle epics". His songs make me think of prohibition gin, mixed race bayou bars and rolled down stocking tops. Amazingly for someone so steeped in blues traditions, although he was born to American parents Stoneking is an Aussie and lives in Melbourne.
"Jungle Blues" by CW Stoneking
After a truly fab ramble through the gallery, some lunch, and a walk through the park, we ended up where else but at Tiffany's. (I don't ever think I've stood as straight.) We strolled further, fondled some cashmere at House of Cashmere, bought comestibles at the David Jones foodhall, browsed for books, and had tea in The Strand Arcade before heading for home late in the afternoon.
Housework be damned.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
5 Life Lessons I Have Learned By Teaching Knitting*
- No matter how hard you try, some people will just NOT GET IT. Not even if you beseech them.
- One (ie: me) needs to acknowledge this fact and move on, without throwing one's arms around their legs and screeching How have I failed you!?!
- Others will really, really get it. Bzzzzzzzzzp! Ok, I've knitted 20 rows, now what?!
- Either position can turn perfectly functional adults into being a kid again. Dejection or pride, pretty much 2 sides of the same coin.
- I always start the class by teaching a simple slip knot. This is functional, but also highlights the Will Gets v the Will Probably Not Gets. From this I have learned that maybe I should start giving all potential suitors some sort of test. (Not the same one though because then I might only get guys into S&M.)
*A beginners' class at work, for 3 hours every second Saturday afternoon.
Friday, April 09, 2010
In Living Colour
Well, well. There was a time when writing this blog was (amongst many other things) a kind of therapy. Putting it all down in the edit dialogue box was a semi-structured way of working through how I thought about stuff. I'm not sure where I forgot about that along the way, but I really should have kept it in mind. I've had stuff to work through you see, but didn't use this blog to help me figure my way through it.
In short, the first quarter of 2010 pretty much sucked ass (and not in a good way). I broke up with the guy I thought I was dating (Or is it that I thought I broke up with him? Given that... never mind.) on New Year's Eve, at a party, from which I walked home, leaving behind my favourite hooded jacket. Portents? Omens? You know, one of the reasons I often don't celebrate New Year is exactly because people seem superstitious that only a good New Year can equal a good year ahead.
Poppycock, clearly.
So, flashing forward and trying to be brief, Sometime up until a few weeks ago I got profoundly depressed. Not dramatically depressed, no renting or wearing of ashes, because so long as you weren't inside my head I gave most of the signs of actually keeping it together. But somewhere along the way I lost me it felt like. Despair must be terrible, but numbness is in the race as well. At least Dorothy Gale got to see Munchkinland turn into colour, which is a lot more fun than the reverse lemmetellyou.
No I didn't seek professional help, other than mumbling something to my doctor and then agreeing that yes it was probably something to do with my old sleep problems and no the strong drugs I used to be on were not a road I wanted to take again. I got up and went to work, sometimes went out with friends but became a bit flaky about turning up for things, basically stopped doing any housework, and on days off quite often remained unwashed and in my robe until I couldn't any more.
The weird thing about being depressed is it's not like your limb is hanging off and people can see that yes indeed, you are a tad poorly. Unlike an only semi-attached appendage sometimes it isn't so bad, and sometimes it seems much better. I had some good times over the past 3 months, and I had some quite average times when I tried to fake it until I could make it... and thought mostly about being home in my robe not doing any housework.
A few weeks back I decided that in line with my parents' Northern English upbringing, all I needed was to pull myself up by the bootstraps. Symptom or cause I don't know, but things miraculously made a turn for the better. Step 1, I needed to lessen my stress about the work/money situation, so I contacted my previous temp agency, and a previous employer, to see if they had any work going. One temp work offer was made, but I decided I also should approach my boss at the yarn store and put my cards on the table. Explain what I wanted to do, what I know I'm good at, why I would rather stay working for them than go elsewhere, and how much I thought I would need to live on to be able to do so.
Essentially they agreed. I'm now on a less modest income (though still not immodest by any stretch), and am in charge of visual merchandising for the 2 (soon to be 3) stores as well as keeping the website updated. The VM stuff is my baby, and because we are a yarn store designing windows means having garments to put into said windows, and to differentiate ourselves it also means designing and product development of said garments. I'm loving it. I put our new windows in a few days ago with 5 garments that I workshopped with our in house designer, and one I designed and knitted outright, and the customers are lapping it up.
About the time I received my promotion I also got a flatmate. The stress of breaking the housework embargo almost broke me as well, and it's true that much of the contents of thejunk room front bedroom that couldn't go to Goodwill are now stacked in teetering piles in my bedroom. Awaiting being dealt with. In baby steps. But my friend Steve is all moved in and is paying his rent, and is working out just fine.
Having someone else in the house is a good thing I've decided. Someone to make you reflect on the fact that maybe you don't really want someone to see you welded to the sofa, in your bathrobe, at 3 in the afternoon, and that maybe it was time you brushed your teeth at least. I want to be alone has its uses, but it's time for a little less Garbo just now.
I'm a bit less poor. I have a bit more money in my pocket, and am not looking at a single digit bank balance while waiting for pay day. I've started to not only service my debt, but have started to put a bit away for a trip to Italy next year. I've been doing some stuff around the house. My creativity has been fizzing away, planning things for work and jotting down things I want to make for myself.
So much of my situation was stress related, I can see now. Wow, I do not handle stress well. Shut down all non-essential services, and just leave a pilot light running on some of them. Best of all I feel more like me than I have almost all year. The colour is back, cue the munchkin!
In short, the first quarter of 2010 pretty much sucked ass (and not in a good way). I broke up with the guy I thought I was dating (Or is it that I thought I broke up with him? Given that... never mind.) on New Year's Eve, at a party, from which I walked home, leaving behind my favourite hooded jacket. Portents? Omens? You know, one of the reasons I often don't celebrate New Year is exactly because people seem superstitious that only a good New Year can equal a good year ahead.
Poppycock, clearly.
So, flashing forward and trying to be brief, Sometime up until a few weeks ago I got profoundly depressed. Not dramatically depressed, no renting or wearing of ashes, because so long as you weren't inside my head I gave most of the signs of actually keeping it together. But somewhere along the way I lost me it felt like. Despair must be terrible, but numbness is in the race as well. At least Dorothy Gale got to see Munchkinland turn into colour, which is a lot more fun than the reverse lemmetellyou.
No I didn't seek professional help, other than mumbling something to my doctor and then agreeing that yes it was probably something to do with my old sleep problems and no the strong drugs I used to be on were not a road I wanted to take again. I got up and went to work, sometimes went out with friends but became a bit flaky about turning up for things, basically stopped doing any housework, and on days off quite often remained unwashed and in my robe until I couldn't any more.
The weird thing about being depressed is it's not like your limb is hanging off and people can see that yes indeed, you are a tad poorly. Unlike an only semi-attached appendage sometimes it isn't so bad, and sometimes it seems much better. I had some good times over the past 3 months, and I had some quite average times when I tried to fake it until I could make it... and thought mostly about being home in my robe not doing any housework.
A few weeks back I decided that in line with my parents' Northern English upbringing, all I needed was to pull myself up by the bootstraps. Symptom or cause I don't know, but things miraculously made a turn for the better. Step 1, I needed to lessen my stress about the work/money situation, so I contacted my previous temp agency, and a previous employer, to see if they had any work going. One temp work offer was made, but I decided I also should approach my boss at the yarn store and put my cards on the table. Explain what I wanted to do, what I know I'm good at, why I would rather stay working for them than go elsewhere, and how much I thought I would need to live on to be able to do so.
Essentially they agreed. I'm now on a less modest income (though still not immodest by any stretch), and am in charge of visual merchandising for the 2 (soon to be 3) stores as well as keeping the website updated. The VM stuff is my baby, and because we are a yarn store designing windows means having garments to put into said windows, and to differentiate ourselves it also means designing and product development of said garments. I'm loving it. I put our new windows in a few days ago with 5 garments that I workshopped with our in house designer, and one I designed and knitted outright, and the customers are lapping it up.
About the time I received my promotion I also got a flatmate. The stress of breaking the housework embargo almost broke me as well, and it's true that much of the contents of the
Having someone else in the house is a good thing I've decided. Someone to make you reflect on the fact that maybe you don't really want someone to see you welded to the sofa, in your bathrobe, at 3 in the afternoon, and that maybe it was time you brushed your teeth at least. I want to be alone has its uses, but it's time for a little less Garbo just now.
I'm a bit less poor. I have a bit more money in my pocket, and am not looking at a single digit bank balance while waiting for pay day. I've started to not only service my debt, but have started to put a bit away for a trip to Italy next year. I've been doing some stuff around the house. My creativity has been fizzing away, planning things for work and jotting down things I want to make for myself.
So much of my situation was stress related, I can see now. Wow, I do not handle stress well. Shut down all non-essential services, and just leave a pilot light running on some of them. Best of all I feel more like me than I have almost all year. The colour is back, cue the munchkin!
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