My search for long term employment continues - and it will come, and at present, I'm not in any rush.
I'm very grateful that my current job extended my until mid-August - just in time for me to go away for a week to Bali. This is a good thing. There is a chance on of the interviews I've had will bear fruit, but for the moment, I'm letting the universe weave it's web and I'm hoping the right thing for me will land in the near future.
Of the interviews I've had over the last few weeks, one I'm flat out thankful I didn't get, another I missed out on, and a couple more I'm waiting for news on.
So I have a quarter of an hour most days where I'm searching LinkedIn and Seek for a new role.
And then, as if by magic, the PERFECT job lands in my facebook inbox.
I saw this and allowed myself to dream for a a bit. A job in learning. And working with Shakespeare. And Shakespearean scholars. And developing materials around Shakespeare. And working with actors, and working in the theatre. And getting the message out there that the theatre is awesome.
Like hell, yeah.
However, I won't be applying. Other than the role is far too senior for me, it's also in Auckland.
But I still have this persistent and enduring dream that one day I will be working in theatre or television. I'm not sure what doing, but it's always been there.
Australian politics is a funny business. We have all of these characters, some of whom you can admire, others you wonder if nutter politics is the only job they could hold down. I will use Christopher Pyne as a case in point - last seen at Adelaide University with his head stuffed down a toilet in the Student Union. The only job he's ever held down has been as a politician.
There are others whom you like to roll your eyes at - Bob Katter springs to mind. On occassion I've found myself agreeing with Bob Katter - he's normally talking off topic when this happens, and despite he's a bit loopy, he does occasionally make a bit of sense. It's a country girl thing.
But then there is David Leyonhjelm. He's been all over the news lately for being a dick.
Leyonhjelm makes a point of being a dick. The front runner in the Liberal Democrat's ticket, this arsehole makes a point of being unpleasant.
It appears that the Liberal Democrats manifesto contains clauses which makes them more repugnant that the Liberal/National Party - and it appears they get easily offended when taken to task. Leyonhjelm appears to take particular umbrage at anything to do with women's rights or anybody involved with The Greens. His actions towards Sarah Hanson-Young this week were reprehensible. Any other workplace in Australia and the person would have been sacked. This is the guy who stood beside that Milo Yiannopoulos out to Australia - like Australia needs more Men's Rights Activists.
Oh yes, he's a charmer.
He's also a hypocrite.
This was demonstrated only too well when The Chaser took him to task over his stance on Wicked Campers a few years ago.
So, I've been thinking. What uses are there for a David Leyonhjelm?
I've come up with the following:
Stobey pole - good for stopping Mac trucks at 100 kms and hour - and little else.
Star dropper - Some wire through his ears might help clean his brains out.
Speed hump - self explanatory.
Crash test dummy - as above.
Snake venom tester.
I get that we need free speech - it's a cornerstone of democracy. Sure, of the burdens of free speech is meeting people with opposing views. But there is a difference between presenting your views and being obnoxious. Leyonhjelm crosses the boundary from confrontational to offensive far too regularly to be a member of parliament. (A bit like Pauline Hanson - except she's just stupid - Leyonhjelm has half a brain in there - it's just the other half holds a pure douche canoe. And don't get me started on that IPA bum boy, James Patterson.)
Today wasn't great. In the scheme of things, it wasn't bloody awful, but it was a hard one. Work was full on. I think I have to get used to this over the next few weeks as I've moved into another area and I have to play by different rules - but this I'll put down to a learning process and just get on with it. All new roles have a some teething issues. And as I said, it wasn't bad - just full on.
I'd rather look at the more interesting part of the day - the part between 5.30 am and 7.00 am.
Yes, I was up early. I had a session with Peeeeetttee at 6 am. Cleo is in South America, so Peeeeettteee is training myself and Jay when he can.
I like Peeeettteeee. Other than he's a Crows supporter and a boofy Tasmanian who's really turned his life around, he's an all round sweetie - even if he did give me the aqua bag the other night. After burpees, the aqua bag is my least favourite thing to use in the gym - and I regularly kick it and tell it to die after use.
Also, as you have more chance of Trump cutting his hair than getting Jay to surface before 10 am, I got trained alone. This is good and bad. With Jay not there, I get worked a little harder. Some weights go up a little. Some differnt exercises are included. The cardio might be a bit more intense. For a change, I had to glove up as I got to use some equipment which was really hard on the hands.
And we then to talking. The stuff that you normally don't talk about with your trainer. Peeetttee has a bit of a spiritual bent. he's on a journey of self-discovery at the moment.
"So you're a Freemason?"
"Yep." (Said between squats)
"Why?"
"Because. I like the fellowship and the ritual."
And we talked about this for a few minutes.
"But how did you find Freemasonry for Men and Women?"
"A male craft member put me on to them."
What followed was a discussion about how the male craft don't really get that there are lady Freemasons out there.
:"But how did you know you would fit in?"
"I didn't. But if there is one place in the world that would take in a reiki and reflexology loving, Tarot reading Wiccan with a penchant for the Kabbalah go?"
He considered this for a bit.
"So you're a witch?"
"Yep." (I think we were onto lat pull downs by now).
"Do you do energy clearing?"
"Yep."
"Can you teach me how?"
Oh boy.
"Nope. I work from instinct. Whether I use bells, brooms, cards, feet, chakras or I find myself invoking Hecate, it's intuitive and individual."
"But how do you know what to do?"
" I just do."
This is the discussion I had at 6.30 this morning. And it seems I have a new reflexology client.
On the tail end, my manager passes my desk on the way home.
"That's Ganesha on your desk."
"Yep."
"But you're not a Hindu."
"Nope. Karminder brought him back from India last trip for me. I wanted a blue one, but he's just lovely."
"But why do you have a Ganesha on your desk."
"He helps smooth the way."
"Hmm. Why do you want a blue Ganesha."
"He came to me in a dream. He was blue." (Okay not quite accurate, but how can you say that a blue Ganesha guided you through a week of meditation two years ago?"
"Hmmm."
As I said, it's been a strange day.
Walking home with Paul Simon in my ears helped.
At least I cam home to the cat, a toasted sandwich and the breakfast dishes.
Tomorrow will be better. There is no 6 am training session. And it's Friday. Tomorrow won't be so strange. Well, here's hoping.
Maggie came into our lives about three years ago. She landed on my mother's doorstep one day, hungry and bedraggled. Nobody knew where she came from. She had no identifying marks. She just appeared.
Being my mother, she told Maggie straight up that she had better skeddaddle or she would end up with a bullet from The Mister. She ignored the fact that this poor, hungry urchin was dancing around her legs.
Half an hour later, my mother finds this scallywag on the back porch being fed ham - by The Mister.
Ham is much better than a bullet. It seems that The Mister, who tries to say that he's not a cat person, was completely won over. One day, somebody will tell my step-father that he is a cat person, he's just in denial.
And about the bullet - this was a real bullet. We're from the country - guns are used for vermin control. My parents live in the country and feral cats are a huge problem - and they are regularly dispensed with by the application of a shot gun. It's an unfortunate fact of life. They also get a lot of animals which are dumped arriving on the doorstep. It's revolting to think that people would dump a pet in the country - as Maggie certainly was - she was too tame, too friendly - and as my parents found out an hour later, house trained).
A week later, the aforesaid Maggie, named because she looked like a magpie, was micro chipped, wormed, spayed, vaccinated, registered and presented my my niece, who at the time was fighting leukaemia. Maggie and Lolly got on like a house on fire. The best of friends.
On Lauren's passing, Maggie helped my sister and her family get through the grief of the loss of Loll.
Maggie was always a character cat. Loved a game. Loved a chase. She loved getting into mischief. She wasn't particularly sociable, but she loved her family. And they will be forever grateful that she was around after the loss of both Loll, and Bozley, the family dog.
It appears that Maggie is no more. She didn't come home for dinner on Monday night, and she hasn't been heard from since. My sister and brother-in-law have scoured the neighbourhood - but to no avail.
Tonight, they heard that a small black and white cat was seen dead in the gutter not far from my sister's place. It matched her description.
The family are devastated - including my mother who was looking forward to babysitting this little cat next week. (and you wonder where I get it)
I'll be hugging Maow Maow extra tight tonight.
So, vale Maggie, you strange little beast. I hope you're happy across the rainbow bridge.
My kid brother challenged me to posting a song which was less than five years old for a week. He says that I only listen to music which was produced when he was in primary school. My kid brother is 26. He is very cheeky.
I will admit - I've struggled with this challenge. My music comes from the eighties and nineties. I have really eclectic tastes, which run from The Pixies and Talking Heads, right through Phil Collins and Billy Joel (apologies to anybody who lived next to me at college) through to the best of Brit Pop and some Australian classics.
So ask me to actually name some songs which were actually produced in the last five years. Yeah, well.... next question. Let's go back to who is better - Talking Heads or the Violent Femmes.
There is gym music, which I have drawn on. Gym music is the music which is on the screens at the gym, normally filed with women wearing very few clothes making suggestive moves with their hips, singing about umbrellas, which aren't umbrellas.
I also buy the Triple J Hot 100 most years, though lately, I've begun to wonder what all this crap is about. There are a few good things on these compilations - but not that many.
And okay, I like Tash Sultana, Amy Shark, The Wombats and Alt-J - they are on serious rotation in the car.
But I've had a bit of trouble with this last song. Finding a song which I really like, but was made in the last five years.
So I've got this one on a technicality. The song was produced in 2016. The band - The Pixies, have been around since the late eighties. It's from their latest album - Head Carrier - which has a Bossanova feel about it. (Bossanova, the album, not the dance style).
So I am now feeling thankful I can go back to not having find a young song.
But the challenge is completed - and this will go on to finding songs that I like for my song of the day (and my ultimate play list).
The weekend was awesome. Lots of cat cuddles. Alice and I found a location for our joint birthday party. The weather was great. I made Chicken Cacciatore. Gloria came around for a reflexology session, followed by some of the aforesaid Chicken Cacciatore.
The reflexology session was assisted by Maow Maow, who climbed up onto Gloria's chest and spent the session purring at her. She loved this. Gloria has two very antisocial Siamese - having a boofhead like Maow Maow about made her day.
Once the treatment was over, food was served and Gloria and I sat down to watch Hannah Gadsby's Nanette.
I've wanted to see this for a while. I also knew that Gloria would like to see this.
Gloria and I are very different people, but share some commonalities. We're both spiritual. We're both of Cornish descent. We both love animals, brought up in the country and had pretty miserable childhoods. We bonded in meditation many years ago.
Gloria, who is now in her mid-sixites, is also gay.
I don't see people as gay or straight - I just see people. But you really can bond over a shared knowledge that you are one of "the other". For Gloria, it's her sexuality. For me, well. I grew up the "crippled, weird" kid.
This fact has always made me sensitive to the needs of "The Other". Being "the Other" has made me empathetic.
There was something that told me Gloria needed to see Nanette as much as I did.
Nanette is one of the best pieces of television I have ever had the honour to witness. It's amazing stuff. Funny, powerful, sad, excoriating, brutal. This is the stuff you don't see enough of on telly.
The first half of Nanette is very funny. Very, very, self-effacingly funny.
The second half is where the pathos comes into effect. Hannah Gadsby is angry. She's furious. And rightly so.
I remember holding council with Gloria when the awful plebishite was going on here. I listened and bore witness to many LGBTI friends at this time - conscious that the persecution they were feeling was so very real and incredibly deep.
The second half of Nanette had me weeping.
You could have heard a pin drop in the Sydney Opera House that night.
Hannah Gadsby is now playing this show in New York.
She gives her reasons for giving up comedy in this show.
And between the tears, and the gasps and the fist pumps you understand fully, why she wants to do this.
The story about her mother tore me to shreds. There were other stories. Horrific stories, that had me wanting to hold this very, very brave woman.
Most of all, I want to shake her hand and say thank you. For her bare faced honesty.
As the final credits rolled, Gloria and I dried our tears. I think, best of all, Nanette has given a tangible voice to "the other" Not only the LGBTI community, but for anybody who has felt that they were's an accepted part of society.
Me, the fat, crippled, weird kid - she gave me a voice too.
Nanette is required viewing. It's on Netflix at the moment. Save yourself a quiet hour. grab a glass of wine and a box of tissues, and see the power of a woman standing in her power.
As she says in one of her last lines of the show, there is nothing more powerful than a broken woman who has had to rebuild herself completely.
Hannah Gadsby is now one of my heroes. May she remain strong and find some peace. She deserves it.
Oh today's song is soooooooo apt. It sums up what I think of parades.
I am Australian. We have a military parade on Anzac Day (25 April) and we have a children's parade at Moomba (Second Monday in March - where they also waterski on the Yarra River (ew) and Adelaide has a yearly Christmas Pageant. And that's it.
Oh, I forgot Pride - I've been on a few Pride marches. But Pride is as much a demonstration than a parade.m
