Get some salt water
Hi Brown paper packages, and other non be alert things,
Well the other day, I got myself a new camera. It has been a while since I have been behind a real lens, so I thought I would try it out on a few things.
Today I went down to the local beach after work, to first of all, get some salt water on my ingrown toenail, and secondly, to take a few photos.
This will also be the start of more photos appearing on my blog, so if you are worried about bandwidth, leave now.
For those of you still here, here are a couple of pics from tonight.
My local beach is not known for it's surf, or sand, or thankfully litter. Instead we have a lot of crushed shells, seaweed, and foam from the rising tide.
Looking out across the water. This is actually the mouth of the river. Slightly to the right, in the far off distance, but not quite as distant as the sun, is the local mountain range. The range is the only blip on an otherwise open plain of over 300 km's. Bike riders take note, not many gears needed around here.
Well they are crappy photos I know, but I will improve.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
4 inches of Premium Unleaded
Hi Boston Buns, and other non Potato containing goodies.
Today I slept in, it was wonderful. Just laying there in bed, snuggled up in my doona, it was wonderful. I didn't get out of bed until 6am.
Yeah, I know, 6 am is a sleep in? I was hoping to go until 7am, but my bladder had other ideas. Tomorrow I might be able to sleep in until 7am, because it is when Daylight Savings start, but knowing my luck, I will just wake up an hour earlier.
A bit of a strange dream last night, one I thought I should blog about, for all of you who want something to think about over the weekend. Read into it what you want, for me it was just a sign that I should stop dreaming. So here goes:
Having just left a pier, carrying my trusty tent which folds up into backpack of sorts, I headed down to the nearest supermarket. At the supermarket, I got into a conversation with a former employee of said supermarket, who was arranging his 50th birthday party. He had finished work at said supermarket 6 months earlier, yet onthis day, when he had returned to say hello to everyone, no one knew him. As I watched the manager of said supermarket try to tally up the receipts to balance, I handed this guy a business card for my Audio Visual business, which I had started 3 years ago, with only $500.
From there, I walked across the road, where an English private school were having their school camp. The camp was in the middle of the bush, with nothing around, except it came with it's own Kmart store. I set up my tent as these kids were having their dinner, and as I set my tent up, one of them used s pea shooter, to put a hole in the tent. This made me very angry, because my tent had a hole in it, which means I couldn't fill it with petrol. My tent required there to be 4 inches of Premium Unleaded petrol in the front half of it to stay up.
I stormed over to the kid who had shot my tent, and threatened to place an oddly bent coat hanger into a very private place on him (his bum), because of what he had done. This caused him to start crying, and his jelly ran off to get some help.
Next thing I know, I am being chased by the Camp Police officer, who for some reason had oversized beige shorts on, and a pith helmet. She chased me all around the camp, but it was in slow motion. From there things got weird, as I was running in front of the Kmart store (what the hell is it with product placement in my dreams), looking back over my shoulder, I didn't see the shopping trolley which was running out of control. Suddenly, bang, I have not only hit the trolley, but passed right through it, and was laying on the ground having an asthma attack. End of dream.
Read into it what you will good people, just don't call the 1-800 number of the local funny farm for me.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Rebecca
Crappy Jobs, Part 3 (Remotely blogged)
Hi Gravel Rash, and other non abrasive wounds.
A little while ago, I started this series, and got waylaid. What, with helping Hillbilly Mom move house, spruking for Andy's election bid and learning Native American dialect from Miss Ann, I kind of lost track of the time.
So on to Crappy Job #3, Assistant Santa Claus.
I would like to point out, at this point in time, that I am not the real Santa Claus. Around December each year, he gets rather busy, so he gets some very good friends, who never stop believing in his magical powers to help out. About a decade ago, I was one of these helpers.
The function was a Shed Party, where a bunch of friends get together and have an end of year break up. At this special event, Santa was to make an appearance, in a very special way, on a peewee 50 motorcycle. Hey, no laughing, the Raindeer were off getting their hooves manicured that day.
Given Santa knew that I had been a good girl that year, and that I have a motorbike license, and that I wouldn't be intoxicated, he asked me to help out.
So in I rode, on this tiny little bike, did my Santa thing, which was heaps of fun, then the real fun started.
I got back on the motorbike, and tried to start it. No go. Try and try again, no luck. By this stage the kids are getting a bit sick of seeing Santa, because they have their presents, all they want to do is play.
A push start was tried, still no luck, the situation was becoming comical. As I looked down at the bike, I saw the problem, someone had switched off the fuel supply.
With the fuel system now ready to work, the bike started, it was time for Santa to ride off back to the North Pole. I got about four metres down the driveway, before the unthinkable happened.
The wonderfully big baggy red pants, got caught up in the drive chain, and off I came.
So there for all the kids to see, was Santa laying there on the ground, with a motorbike that wouldn't switch off, doing circle work, running over Santa repeatedly.
When the I was finally rescued (never trust three parts pissed guys to help Santa) I rose to my feet, covered in tire marks, gravel and exhaust dust, and in my biggest Santa voice said to all who could hear "Ho Ho Ho, you never have this problem with Raindeer, Merry Christmas."
Then I got back on the bike, and rode back to the North Pole, where there is heaps of ice for my bruises.
Blog Out,
HooRoo
Rebecca
Sir Humphrey would be proud
Hi Vanilla Ice Cream, and other non exciting flavours.
Well it is that time of the year for me, bath time. No, only joking, that is a bi-annual event. The yearly event I am talking about is tax time.
Now this is not your usual gripe about tax, we all have them, we have all been there, I'm not going to go on about that. Instead, I'm going to relate to you all my current tax situation.
I have no idea with tax, that's why I see an accountant. They don't cost any money to see, because you get to claim it on the next years income, so why not let them worry about your tax stuff. For the last 12 years, I had been using the same accountant, then last year, he turned into a real arsehole, and refused to do my tax anymore. On top of that, it also turned out, that instead of getting a return, I would have to pay about $1,100 in tax. At the time, he said he would forward the details to me, as to what I needed to do to repay this debt.
Anyway, fast forward to the current tax year (for our unAustralian friends, or tax is done here every June 30, and you have until the end of October to lodge stuff), and I get a letter from the tax department, informing me they are taking legal action against me to recover my tax debt, seeing as though I had not contacted them for the last year. Whoa! Hold your horses there Dilberts, a bit of information required please.
Well, it turns out, they had been sending the notices to my former accountant, who in return, was using them to wipe his arse or something, because nothing was forwarded on to me. Further more, I didn't have a tax debt of $1,100, I have a tax debt of $4,000, with interest being charged at rates credit card providers could only dream about charging.
Ok, so I have a big tax debt, something to deal with, but it is the way the debt has been worked out that Sir Humphrey would be proud to call his own. I will try to explain it in some form.
I have a personal tax debt of $1,100.
- Tax department open an old business file of mine, and call it a business tax.
- Because it is a business tax, they now require me to pay provisional tax on next year.
- The amount the "business" is earning, is based on my previous personal income.
- The personal tax from the last year is still current, and also being charged interest.
- OK, so are you all still with me now? I'm not, but I will rant on further about this. I know I owe them the money for the personal tax from last year, well at least now I know I owe it, so I can start paying it back, but the business stuff is different.
Even though I can prove I don't run a business. Even though I can prove that I have made no money as a business, I still have to pay the tax department this money. If I don't pay them this money, I then will be charged more interest, and face court action, to get the money back.
If I pay the money back, then next year, I get to claim it all back, as a tax return.
So here is my question to you all, why they hell don't they just realise how bullshit this whole situation is, and call it quits? I don't owe them anything at all, but they want the money from me, to prove I owe them nothing, so why don't they just accept nothing, and be done with it?
Well thanks to the ATO, that can't happen, because they have no right to erase a debt, until it has been paid, even though this debt has been fully formed by them in error.
You know, I think I might just chuck it all in and become a begger on the street. Oh hang on, that would be seen as a small business by the Australian Taxation Office, and I would be back to square one. Bastards!
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
I loves youse all
Hi Selmonella Fishcakes, and other non Walrusy things.
Not much of a rant this one, I promise I will do a decent post tomorrow, this is more of a thank you to a few people.
In my last two posts, I was pretty down, but some people who read this blog (internet friends I guess you would call them, well most of them) left some nice comments, and I thought I would do a bit of a reply to them.
Sheriff of nothing: While your comment was breif, your emails of support recent have been great. One day I hope we can meet up somewhere for a coffee. Thanks
Sophie: Well I did call you, and my phone bill for calls to Perth is going to skyrocket, but it has been worth it. Even when I gave you the option of ending our friendship, so that you could get on with your life, and stop worrying about mine, you stood by me.
Hillbilly Mom: Yes, the feuding has been great. It surprises me a little at times, that with the language barrier (don't worry, one day you Americans will learn english), we have not started to flame each other. I really enjoy the experiences.
Mr Huggies: Having lived in Queensland, way back in 95/96, I have a large distaste for many things Queensland, but you are not one of them. It's great knowing you, I look forward to the next postcard.
Then after I crapped on a bit about the Family Court, I recieved some more comments, so here is some more wishy washy, I loves youse all, moments:
Misha: With your angst, I think you would make a great Prime Minister. You're a woman who can sort it out, and you don't pull punches. We'll never see you as a slave of the system.
Shauna: While you don't blog, you are still a good friend. Now if only meeey-nger would work for me we could chat.
Sheriff of nothing: I'm beginning to think you should get out more girl. lol. But really, as someone who only knows me through a blog, and a few emails, your shoulder is really appreciated.
Rachy: The wait is one of the main reasons I spiralled down for a while. Things got really bad for me, but I am climbing back. The human aspect is removed from you as you enter the court buildings, in there, it is just red tape. These idiots wonder why people take desperate actions, look in the mirror I say.
The court situation is really pissing me off, but I'm going to put it on the backburner for a few weeks, while I sort things out a little. It's not that I have too many pots on the boil, it's just that I am being showered with hot oil, and I only have a wacky drinks umbrella to cover me.
One of the things that hurts the most with all of this situation, is the important days in my kids life I am missing. I never got to see my youngest son start his first day of school. I still don't know if his legs have been fixed, which had been a problem for him since birth. At the rate things are going, I wont get to see my eldest son as he hits double figures in birthdays (this year he turns 9), or either of the boys birthdays for that matter. Christmas day is a double blow, because my eldest son was born on Christmas day. To add to the issue, I will be alone again this Christmas.
Just on this Christmas point, a few friends have offered for me to join them on Christmas day, but it is something I wont do. Christmas is a time to spend with family, and I'm going to be in no mood to put on a hapy face for someone else's family. I think I will just enjoy a quite day at home, or do as I did last year, and just go to work.
Mmmm, started to end this post on a bit of a downer, it seems to be a running theme lately. Oh well, tough. My next post will be back to the usual crap attempt at comedy and a lighthearted look on life. Until then.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
Remote Blogging
Hi Out of key singers, and other talented people,
Well I'm not here yet, I'm remote blogging again.
Thanks to those who sent me wishes, after my last blog entry. I will reply to those later.
The court case concerning my kids started the other day. After about 20 minutes, the case was ajorned, for another 14 months. That means it will br more than two years between me seeing my kids, and the case finally being heard. After it has all gone through the system, it will basically be three years before I see them.
This has really hit me hard, a lot harder than I thought it would. Even knowing that this was going to be the most likely outcome at this stage, when I finally got home that day, seeing the kids Christmas and birthday presents from last year, was the proverbial straw.
Because of this, I was really thrown out of wack, and just needed to get away from things, or I might have got close to where I was a bit over a year ago. That is something I don't want to do, so I needed the break. Now I am just repeating myself, as you can tell, my mind is not quite spinning in the right direction yet.
I'll be back blogging in a few days, there are a few entries to finish off. But until then.
Blog Out,
HooRoo
Rebecca
I have a few things to sort through, so this blog wont have any new entires for a while. Sorry
What do you call these two days?
Hi Christmas Decorations, and other things that just shouldn't be seen at this time of the year.
I got to sleep in today. w00t! It was fantastic, there I was just lazing away in bed for a Saturday morning, thinking about nothing, trying not to think about having to get up to go to the toilet, but in the end my bladder won. So eventually I dragged my arse out of bed around 5am.
Now I know what you are thinking, what kind of a freak thinks that 5am on a Saturday morning is a sleep in? Well the kind of freak who is use to getting up at 1:30am for work is the kind of freak that would.
Today is a bit unusual for me, I'm not quite sure what to do, after all, what do you call these two days? Oh, that's right, it's called a WEEKEND. A bit of a foreign term for me, being a shift worker and all, but a term I will kind of get use to over the next few weeks. You see I am back into classes for the next 6 weeks, which means Monday to Friday, 8am to 4pm. It's going to kill me, I just don't know how people can work such insane hours.
So what to do today, well I plan to do a load of washing, clean up the house a bit, and once again, it is time for some fun with the car, yes it is service time again.
As readers of this blog, you may all remember the last time I tried this, if not, just defocus your eyes, think of some Harp music, and click on this link. This time though, I am going all out. I have purchased this thing called a Timing Light, which apparently makes your car go better. I have no idea what I am doing with it, but I will give it a go. At least if I can't get it to work, then I can always use to to fake being a Cop with a Radar Gun.
In other news, I've won an award. I now have finally got my Silver Medal for blood donations. I think back now at the 97.5 litres or so of blood I have given over the last 15 years, and think "Dang, in some countries, you get paid for this!"
Because I haven't put up any photos for a while, here is one of me accepting the award, fresh from the Australia Post bag (Bag not present in photo, it had other things to do.).
For those of you who are wondering, yes in the photo I have Plaits in my hair. Not really a good look for me, but it was a bit of fun. Here is a better photo of that....
Yeah I know, daggy indeed, but don't they just match soooo well with the blue shirt I have to wear for work? Oh blue is sooooo much my colour, it looks fantastic on me, NOT! But think about it. If you saw this thing at the controls of your train, would you really want to get on it? I think not. So no heavy loading for me, and I get to keep on time running.
Well I hear an oil change calling, and I am not talking about mine, so until next time.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
These little reminders
Hi Mock Cream, and other non buttery goodness.
I want to start this post by saying the comments below are not about, nor in relation to, any readers of this blog. I am not having a go at any of you, who have provided much fun and enjoyment during my time as a blogger.
In some personality tests, people get given the choice of "Alone on a desert island, or surrounded by friends?" or words to that affect. Well I can tell you all, always go with the latter, being alone sucks. I know, I live it.
Being alone is something you get to grow with. It saves you having the need to have people around you all the time, or close at hand, but when you do need other people, being alone means there is no one there, you have to go it alone, and it is a gut wrenching experience.
Every now and then, you get these little reminders, things that force it home to you that you are in fact alone, and that support base just isn't there at all. Today is one of those days for me.
You see today is my birthday, I'm 31. Last year, I was 30 (no shit Einstein), and it was the first year of me being alone. You feel lethargic, everything is a chore, and a real sense of "What is the point of it all?" closely followed by tears.
My only saving grace was an SMS (or text message if you like) from Sophie, and last night, I went out for dinner with 5 people. All up 13 had accepted the invitation, and said they would be there, but then they all dropped off, other plans came up. Hey I put in the ground work, but still, today, the actual day of my birthday, one SMS's. No cards, no phone calls, absolutely no presents.
I think the thing that really drives it home, is no calls or anything from any kind of family. Sure we all have people we call family, I'm talking about actual blood relations here, and from them there is nothing. I guess this means that on this day every year, I get to celebrate their confirmation of non existence.
Now don't worry, I'm not trying to put all you readers on a guilt trip, wanting you to say how sorry you are, and leave Happy Birthday comments on Rants of a Rebecca, as I said before, this is not about anyone here, I have no issues at all there, all I am doing with this blog entry is expressing some of my feelings, for my own good.
One good thing about not having any contact from any "family" is I don't have to return any to them, which means over the next few days, when a few of them have their birthdays, I wont have to waste money on phone calls, or cards, or presents. I can just get on with my day, as though nothing has happened. I guess that is some sort of saving grace for me.
So for now, I'm just going to curl up into a ball on the couch and hum happy birthday to myself, let the tears fall, and get on with tomorrow.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
Beclakian Dictionary
All Sneeze Beclakia,
Well most of you now know about Word Verification. These so called "mumble jumble's" of words, help to protect your blog against SPAM.
Well, here is news for you all. These words have all been stolen from Beclakia.
Below I have listed a few examples, gathered over the last few weeks of blogging. I am sure you will know some of these words, well now you will also know the meaning of them.
ahdxnn: Knowing that you have no idea what you did last night, but you still know where to return that mysterious animal in your backyard to where it came from.
basinhy: The action to encase someone in Bubble Wrap, and roll them down a hill of sharp rocks.
cxunjjh: Understanding that no matter where you go in the world, every toilet will have no paper for you to use.
dproonb:The art of removing such things from someone's hair, as bubble gum, egg, and automobiles.
ewhhou: The sound a kid makes when they realise their new baby brother/sister has just pooped on their hand.
fvrsz: The annoying feeling that no matter how hard you try, your zipper is stuck and it wont go up. This only happens just before making a major business presentation.
gecwixzr: The ugly guy, dancing all on his own, who thinks that doing "the robot" will win him a date.
hbziyre: A perfectly sharpened pencil.
ijyrgkdp: Succulent Beclakian dish, made of unknown food. Actually we know what it is, it's just that you don't want to know.
jcflj: To succeed by making others fail.
kqbvy: Historically the name of the 17th child born to the same mother, but different father to all other children.
lhrgkpi: Growth that suddenly appears on the side of you head one morning. When you get it checked out by a doctor, fearing it is DEATH, it turns out to be some garlic sauce from last nights kebab.
mfmwef: When the milk moustache from your cappuccino goes hard before you notice it.
nlatgobk: When a midnight snack consists of more than just grabbing something out of the fridge.
obalmsuw: When a piece of sports equipment, usually a ball, goes through your window, and you take legal action to recover the costs.
pakazca: Traditional Beclakian greeting for someone with frozen snot hanging from their nose.
qiwmie: Useful word for ending a game of scrabble. Can only be used after 2am.
rlaiyyw: If we told you what it meant, you wouldn't believe us, so just let it go.
sawbcfv: Removal of bugs from your headlights after driving through a wheat field.
tdnnti: Small plastic thing that holds your windscreen wiper blades in place.
ubdfqtig: Usual comment from a man, shortly before asking for directions from a stranger.
vuagfvg: A storage device used in time travel "When entering into a vortex of unknown certainty, please place all hand luggage on the vuagfvg provided."
welyddf: Sound heard when your head hits the bonnet of the car, as you try to take of the radiator cap when it is too hot.
xutptdr: Fastening device for pants, dating back to 1200AD, made entirely out of carrots.
yqrvdb: The feeling of waking up in bed, after 12 hours sleep, and it feels like it still isn't enough.
zrevcyt: Getting ready to road race someone in your car, and you stall at the lights.
All Sneeze Beclakia,
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
Self Tagged
Hi Door Latches, and other non securing devices.
Well there is a lot of Tagging going on lately. One doing the rounds is to go back to your 23rd post, fifth paragraph, and then crap on about it.
So here is my 23rd/5th:
The first game we played was titled, "The Die Ron Die", in which you take the song "A Do Ron Ron Ron" and sing about peoples names. If you screw up, everyone in the audience shouts "DIE" and you are out. I was not particularly looking forward to this game, because I suck big time at it. Imagine my surprise when I KICKED ARSE AND WON THE GAME!!! Ok, so that last bit was a bit of an ego trip for me, but I was still the last person standing, which was a shock to all.
This is a blog about my first time on stage doing Improv Comedy. I was buzzing after that night, which was not a good thing, because I had to work in the morning.
This coming Wednesday I am back on stage again. I really enjoy doing Improv, it is a great way for me to break away from the stresses I get at work and in life. All I have to do now is to start being funny, and others might enjoy it too.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
Beclakia, Industries Version 2.0
All Sneeze Beclakia!
Hello fellow Beclakians. Well with T-shirt sales going through the roof (I told them adding dynamite was a bad thing) we are now branching out into other industries.
For years now, people have struggled with weight loss, particually fat people. This is a concern for us in Beclakia, because it means we have to use more fabric to make our T-Shirts. So we have come up with a new type of weight loss that will work every time, for every one. Here is how it goes.
The diet is called the Beclakian Stress Out Diet. What we do is kidnap your children, or fondest relative if you don't have children, and hold them in a torture cell until you reach your weight loss goal. For added incentive, like you need any, for every week we have then suffering dripping water treatment, we will also cut of a finger. What a fantastic deal, not only do you lose weight, but they do as well!
Once you reach your goal weight, the programme doesn't stop there, we then dump them at the side of the road, in an unspecified location, leaving you to find them. So not only will you reach your goal weight, you will definately keep it off, until you find your family.
To sign up to this fantastic deal, call now. For the first 1 million select callers, there is a free, limited edition, T-Shirt, as seen below.
All Sneeze Beclakia!
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
Crappy Jobs. Part Two.
Hi 3.5 inch disks, and other antique media devices,
Well time to move on to the next Crappy Job, 7-11 Attendant.
In all honesty, I was never officially employed at 7-11, so Andy you are sort of right. I had a friend who worked the night shift at one, I use to go along on the graveyard shift to people watch, and to serve behind the counter while he got a couple of hours sleep in the dead of the night.
Sure I didn't get paid to do this, but there was endless Slurpies on tap, and at Midnight, fresh donuts arrived, and all "old" stock could be consumed. No wonder I got fat in my late teens. But this kind of human interaction was helpful to my acting career, well that is what I kept telling myself. I know I was just there for the donuts.
There was this one night that takes me right back. It was a freak night, unlike any other freak night before. We had this guy rush in about 10pm wondering where the Kevin Bartlett oval was. I gave him general directions, and he thanked me then rushed out the door. Two hours later, he was back, again looking very lost and fustrated, wondering where the Kevin Barlett oval was. This time I pulled out the Melways (Street Directory) and showed him. Third street on the left, right at the first street, 800 metres down the road, there is the oval. He thanked me then rushed out the door.
About 3 hours later, the same guy rushed in agan, wondering where the Kevin Bartlett oval was. I told him there is no such place, and he was never seen again.
Working the night shift, you use to get a lot of moths in the store. Not the flying kind, but the two legged kind. People who would see the bright lights, walk into the store, wander around a bit, then leave when the door was open. They wouldn't say anything, they wouldn't buy anything, they would just wander. Sometimes I thought about using a can of insect repellant on them, just to see the reaction.
About 2am this young couple came into the store, and got a heap of drinks, and snack food, and were buzzing with excitement. "Having a party are you?" I asked. They giggled and said yes. With all excitement they informed me that a heap of people had just knocked on their door, and said it was time for a party, so they had headed down to the store to get some food for them.
I asked if they knew the people, because 2am on a Tuesday is a hell of a time to start a party. They told me, they didn't know the people, but they seemed like fun.
At this point in time, I pointed out to them, they had left their house open to a bunch of strangers, and left the place, allowing these strangers to steal everything they had.
All the party stuff was dropped on the counter, and they bolted off. Never to be seen again. I was happy, they had paid for everything, and never came back. More junk food for me.
Anyway, that is enough adventures for one blog. More crappy jobs soon.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
Crappy Jobs. Part One
Each time over the last few days I have tried to type this, Blogger has been down for running repairs, finally I get to type.
Hi Dim Sims, and other non cabbage products.
Well it looks like a bit of a tie, for when it comes to wanting to know about my former jobs. So, in this episode, we start at the top, with Abattoir Cleaner.
When I was growing up, early teens, my Grandfather worked at his local abattoirs, cleaning out the pens. Grandpa was getting on a bit, so it was decided for me, that a weekend job with Grandpa would be a good thing.
So on Saturdays, after I had finished playing hockey, I would get on the train, travel up to Baccus Marsh, and head straight out to the abattoirs to clean out the animal poo from the pens.
It was hard work, especially when the animals were still in the pens, but occasionally it had its good moments. Moments like being able to release some of that teen angst, by being on the "bolt". The "bolt" is the kind of gun like device, used to fell the animals, before they are carved up. It was quite therapeutic calling the animals by the names of the people you didn't like, then put a bolt into them. But don't worry, it is all safe now, I've worked past that stage of my life.
Growing up, and still to today, I have long limbs. One day the main "liquids" drain was blocked. Liquids were things like blood, urine, stomach contents, that kind of thing. Stuff that is not very nice. Well after a few people tried, it was decided for me, my arm was the longest, so I had to reach into the drain, not a nice thing. After a bit of feeling around, I then successfully removed the animal head that was blocking the drain. This was not pleasant work.
It was interesting to see the different things animals get up to in an abattoir. All the male animals were separated from the female animals, but even in those last few moments of life, instincts took over, and much "male bonding" took place.
On special days, a BBQ was started, and fresh offal was plentiful. I know that stuff is horrible to many people, but I still to this day love a feed of sheep kidneys, various hearts, and dare I say liver.
So now that I have put you all off meat, I guess I should tell you how much money I made from this job, that's simple. Nothing. I never got a single cent for the work I did there. My payment was a glass of Raspberry Lemonade, and maybe if I had worked hard, a packet of chips, down at the pub.
Sure it was hard work, but I learnt a lot from it, and it gave me a lot of respect for my Grandfather. I miss him dearly, it would be nice to visit him again, but these days, it would just be too confusing for him, and I'd like the old man to live out his days in peace.
Blog Out
HooRoo
Bec
Sophie, A friend for life, not just for Christmas
For some reason the following post I saved as a draft, then clean forgot about it. Oh well, despite it now being out dated a little (Not in content, but in time of posting), I will still present it for your viewing pleasure/disdain.
Hi 148bpm, and other non dance music tempo's.
Well I am sure you all know what this post will sort of be about, yes I am talking about Perth.
Right now, I've been back at home in Melbourne for about two hours, and I am filled with mixed emotions. I am tired from the flying, buzzing from being in such a wonderful city, crying because I am missing Sophie, excited at what is still to come in my life, filled with hope from what I learnt in the last four days, and let's throw in a bit of nausea for good measure, gee I hate flying.
As you all know, Sophie and I had never met, but that didn't matter. To me it felt like i had just caught up with my cousin, or more aptly my sister. You know how it is, you may have not seen them for years, but when you do, the conversation goes "So much been happening?" "Yeah, not a lot, just the usual." "Great to hear your keeping well then, pass the tomato sauce please."
I had a few highlights, and low lights in Perth. The highlight was hanging around on the most comfy sofa I have ever been on, to watch a movie. We both bawled our eyes out at the same time, and it was great to be able to do that with someone else, instead of on your own. Just to stop a movie and to get a comforting hug was great.
Being shown around the city really appealed to my liking of town planning, however due to there being a dead body next to the freeway, it was a major traffic jam getting there. I wondered if Fitty had been on holidays, but no barrels in sight. It was great to be able to say something and not have yourself answer it.
Lowlights were my cooking effort on the electric stove, I'll do better next time Sophie, I promise. Being taken for a walk through Kings Park, on to some Tree Top walk. It scared the crap out of me, and my legs were jelly at the end of it. My fear of heights has not improved after that little adventure.
So at the end of the day, was it worth flying over 3000km to spend two and a half days in Perth? Absolutely. Next time I will have to make the journey a longer one, so I can spend more time on Sophie's couch, and so I can get in some shopping, after I "donated" on of my tops to Sophie. Well she looks a lot better in it than I do, and since she put it on, all I wanted to do was take to her with scissors, but in a nice way. All I can say is going over there restored my faith a little in the human kind. While Sophie may have been worried about us not doing enough while I was there, just spending time with a great friend meant a lot to me.
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