What is that about?!

So, day 2 of the slightly-less-scary-by-the-day job and I'm starting to suspect my cubicle neighbour is a leedle bit kooky.

I was prepared to dismiss the reading out loud of documents and the laughing to himself whilst just walking along the corridor as quite harmless. I thought maybe I was noticing things a bit more given my forced re-acclimatisation to the open-plan lifestyle.

However, today I spotted him sitting in a nearby cafeteria at lunch time, with:

i) his tie flicked back over his shoulder (fine - a great way to avoid tie-in-soup syndrome);
ii) his eyes closed (okay...);
iii) mouth slightly open (but not in anticipation of an insertion of lunch); and
iv) head tilted back (and I mean right back).

And this went on for about 5-10 minutes. He was absolutely motionless.

Prayer? Power-nap? Meditation? Water on the brain?

I have to say though, he is a very energetic and amiable bloke. Maybe this weird zoning out thingo is the key to his enthusiasm and post-lunch freshness?

Day one of my scary new job...

(Because I know you are all interested in these meaningless details)

I miss having an office.

Dear God how I miss having an office...

On the upside, I managed to avoid all of my nightmare 'first-day' scenarios:

1) I actually turned up on the right day
2) I didn't turn up in my pyjamas
3) I didn't mistakenly email my boss an inappropriate message
4) My boss has 'two first names' (you know, like "John James", or "Todd Russell") and I didn't call him by his surname
5) I didn't make any instant enemies (or I don't think I did)

Hanging out for that comfort zone though!

Sick as a ....

So that scary new job is looming tomorrow and I have somehow managed to pick up some nasty, energy sapping, mucous oozing, raspy coughing lurgy.

Hurrah!

Luckily (or not, if sarcasm is not your cup of tea), the new boss has invited me along to a ‘really important’ meeting with ‘really important’ stakeholders at 10am on my first morning.

Tops.

So anyway, on Friday I had to that really awkward ‘leaving a workplace’ ritual.

For me, this meant realising that I really had become quite close friends with some of the people I have worked with over the last 3 years. And then I thought about how much harder it is to make these friendships work without the casual convenience of daily proximity.

Bummer.

It was also looking bad for my big, tough, butch image (an hilarious description for those who know me, no doubt).

I had plans to let people know that I would really miss them, that I appreciated their guidance and mentoring, blah blah sentimental blah blah heartfelt, yaddah yaddah.

But I got all ‘motional and had to start pinching my leg through my pocket to stop myself from tear-ing up. Motorcycle ridin’, ex-rugby playin’, short haircut-sportin’ dykes really shouldn’t be caught blubbering you know.

I couldn’t actually get the words out without getting all properly upset, and I regret leaving most people with a simple “thanks for everything, goodbye”. But that’s what you get, innit.

And I thought I was going to be ok on Friday night. I thought I’d put some music on to cheer myself up and of all the songs in the world, iTunes had to pick this one from the Dixie Chicks*:

Farewell to old friends
Let's raise a glass to the bitter end
Farewell to old friends
Will you forgive me when I never see you again

Or words to that effect. And it was full of wistful slide-guitars and brush-drums.

Ouch.

*Yes, stop sniggering, the Dixie Chicks. I know country moozik aint that popular round these parts but there’s something a bit sexy about the way these ladies told George W to cram it with walnuts.

Gay for play

Michael is such a bullsh1te artist.

You tube it here.

Too much information

So I was just in the ladies here at work my place of employment, and this stranger says to me:

"It's funny how some people seem to have the same bladder timetable. I always see the same people in the toilets when I go."

And I'm like, shut up! Shut up about your bladder right now!

Aren't there some things that you just don't talk about with strangers?

I mean, I'm trying to be all uptight and reserved over here and I definitely don't want to hear about your freakin' bladder.

And who the heck comes up with something like "bladder timetable"?!?!

Talking to complete strangers about your whizzing frequency - not quite as bad as having someone talking to you from the next cubicle whilst 'taking care of business', but pretty close!

Chuckles

Just to prove that I’m ok with other people having a larf at my expense, two things:

First thing

Yesterday I got an email about plans for our 10-year high school reunion.

For background, this wouldn’t necessarily be an enjoyable experience.

So last night, I dreamt I turned up to the reunion in my pyjamas but without any pants on.

Way to have stereotypical anxiety dreams!

Second thing

If you like poorly described slap-stick then this is the anecdote for you!

Late last week I bought a new piece of luggage for my motorbike to make overnight trips a possibility.

Here’s a picture.



It has a set of magnets in the base, allowing it to fix onto the petrol tank without the need for complicated tying down and pesky bungee chords, etc etc.

Following an early departure from Sydney for Canberra on Sunday morning, the cold cold winds resulted a rather dramatic case of me shivering to bits on the bike and pulling into a roadhouse for some coffee and some hot food.

Now, I had to take the magnetic tank bag with me to avert the possibility of theivage.

After having to wait 10 minutes for my coffee and food I was a fair way towards the end of my tether when I lumbered off towards a table, with my helmet hooked over my arm, carrying the tank bag and a tray with the coffee and food.

The thing about the magnets in the bag though is that they don’t tend to discriminate between things I want them to stick to, and things I really would prefer they didn’t stick to.

So if you can picture it, on my way past a table the magnets attached themselves to a nearby chair and, with my hand still holding onto the bag, it pulled me backwards, resulting in coffee and pancakes flying up into the air in a very comical fashion, and landing, with a loud splat, at my feet.

I almost cried, but instead I introduced the kids at the nearby table to some choice profanities they might otherwise have not known (which may or may not have rhymed with James Blunt).

Woe is me!

Just whinging about something, for a change...

I think that if I see one more Bunnings commercial I might go down there and get homicidal in all 34 of their aisles.

What gets me is the kinds of ‘real honest to goodness staff member’ that they’ve started to use in the advertisements.

For example, “Len – Qualified Carpenter” tells us about the 15 different types of bucket they have on sale for 2c a pop at the moment.

I’m sure they think that using these ‘salt of the earth’ types will make us forget they are a mega-corporate monolith.

I tell you who isn’t forgetting that fact, Len, the qualified carpenter who at the age of 54 is working for $10.50 an hour trawling up and down a windowless warehouse showing Brett and Kim where the extension chords are.

I don’t know about you, but the folksy charm of a qualified tradesperson reduced to working retail shifts (not that there's anything wrong with retail...) isn’t about to make me forget about the smaller, but more conveniently located hardware shop which went out of business last year in the face of the crushing competition of Bunnings (didn’t they used to just make lawn food?)

I’d like to boycott them but I can’t seem to find any other hardware outlets around the place these days…

Superbland

And people were worried about The Chronicles of Narnia movie having ‘strong Christian themes’...

Check out this preview for the new Superman movie. It includes the following message for Superman from his father:

They can be a great people Kalel if they wish to be.

They only lack the light to show the way.

For this reason above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you, my only son.

I guess though, as long as it doesn't involve any mine rescue scenes, I don't really care.

Post-traumatic cashing-in disorder

Sick of hearing about Todd and Brant? (I swear I thought his name was 'Grant' for the first 10 days or so)

Then don't be watching TV on Sunday night. Channel Nein has 'secured' the interview.

"F*ck! I never want to hear another f*cking word about that f*cking mining sh*t!" is something I'm sure I recall the LovelyWife saying or more than one occaision of late, bless her heart (and potty-mouth).

To cope, we should probably come up with some kind of drinking game for the interview.

Here are some starting suggestions:

Tracey Grimshaw asks "how they felt when [insert event/timeframe here]" - take a chug

Tracey Grimshaw asks "what kept you going down there" - take a chug

Tracey Grimshaw or the network voiceover use the word 'hero' - double chugs

Tracey Grimshaw asks "whose helmet was used as the toilet" - three chugs!

Tracey Grimshaw asks "would you have eaten the other bloke if he'd died" - double chugs

Todd and Brant display 'trademark sense of humour' or 'larrikin streak' - take a chug

Todd and Brant get teary - double chugs

Todd and Brant somehow manage to link their predicament to WorkChoices - scull! scull! scull! scull!

Hmmm, think I'd better start stocking up on alcy-hol right now!

Intruder alert

Say hello to Big Brother intruder Robert.

That is, if you haven't run away screaming in terror. "The eyebrows horror! The eyebrows horror!"

He's really got that whole "no one will notice I'm balding if I just grow my hair a little long and flop it forwards just so" thing down pattern baldness.

On the plus side, Gretel will be pleased to know that following Robert's entry into the house on Tuesday, she will no longer have to worry about being the most botoxed person on the show.

What with Karen and Krystal's boob jobs, Gretel's "face" and now Robert, I'm starting to wonder if this whole series isn't just a big cross promotion for another run of Nip Tuck...

The only (legally recognised) gays in the village

Everyone likes to dump on Canberra. Myself included, sometimes.

But, boy howdy Australia! Now we've got one up on all of youse! And I'm not just talking about our generous bicycle lanes and ability to buy grog in the supermarket.

Nyah nyah, us capital gays can now get formal recognition of our relationships.

That is, until the flesh easting zombie Attorney-General hatches a fiendish plan to overturn the laws.

So the LovelyWife and I must now make plans to make our beautiful relationship a mere formality. Good for us!

Although, I feel a bit sad for all you straight people. According to the Churchies, you're relationships are all doomed! (cue thunder and lightning and dramatic music)

For some reason, I'm not quite sure what (the Churchies don't always like to make themselves entirely clear on this point), the fact that we now have equal less-unequal rights 'undermines' marriage.

So all you nice, normal, straight people better start planning your divorces now. My advice would be to get in early, as I reckon the ACT bureaucracy is going to be pretty busy soon with all us gays getting 'recognised' and all you straight people ending your relationships because of that.

I'm sorry, I know it is a harsh situation to have to come to grips with. But you can't argue with the searingly brilliant logic of the Churchies' argument on this one.

PS $10 says that it will only take a couple of months for the Federal Government to have legislation ready to overturn the ACT's civil union laws.

Grohl or Noll?

Is it too early to start making fun of dem miners yet?

Meh, probably not.

So, stuck 1km underground with only egg sandwiches and Foo Fighters on an iPod to keep you going.

OR....

Above ground with Shannon Noll and Eddie McGuire.



Not a hard choice really. Where's my shovel and miner's hat?

Edit: The LovelyWife says "if we're allowed to make fun of them now, what the heck kind of name is 'Brant' anyway?! I don't want to be mean - sure, he's just spent 2 weeks underground, but surely his parents weren't stuck underground when they named him!"

Modern day miracle - a great escape

Yes, it is true. We are saved!

Vidmar out of World Cup

Socceroos debacle defender Tony Vidmar has saved the socceroos campaign withdrawn himself from being considered for the Australian squad for the World Cup due to obvious medical reasons.

Currently inexplicably part of Dutch side NAC Breda, Vidmar stubbed broke his toe ribs during a match earlier this season and has been useless sidelined forever since. After returning to training, Vidmar underwent an Electrocardiogram (ECG) where he experienced some shortness of talent breath. Further tests have revealed he has no excuses left an irregular heart rhythm.

Workplace reform

I’m soon to be swapping this corner of the public service for another. Sad to say then that this will mean I will no longer be able to regale you all with the adventures of keybort woman, turbo moron or mosthatedofcolleagues.

Sigh.

Life is cruel sometimes (I think I need a tax break to perk me up, luckily the Budget is tomorrow night).

I guess I could always just console myself with the fact that I will soon be entering that ‘grace period’ which exists between the time you leave behind all your work-related problems and problem colleagues, and the time it takes at the ‘new place’ to realise where all your new problems lie and who all the new problem colleagues are.

In some ways this move comes not a moment too soon. An organisation-wide email circulated this morning warning of an impending ban on access to web-based email services.

What's worse is that the IT-chieftans recently banned access to both the official Big Brother website and the even more diverting Behind Big Brother.

What’s the point of clawing one's way up through to the ranks and attaining sufficient seniority to have an office if you can’t use it to hide an addiction to non work-related internetting?!

I’m just waiting for them to look at the web-page viewing stats and work out the number of productivity-sapping hours wasted on blogspot addresses ‘round this place.

I am a bit concerned though that the ‘new place’ has a reputation for having a savagely horrible work/life imbalance (in this instance, please equate ‘life’ with ‘sneaking in a blog post here and there during the week’). And nothing is more important to me these days than sharing my thoughts on Shane Warne’s undies and Camilla’s daily ferality quotient.

So in the event the posts start to look a bit stale - fairly warned be thee, says I.

Anyway, my thoughts now turn to the frightening prospect of a new workplace and all the terribly and fatally embarrassing things I could do on my first day or during my first week to seriously limit my career.

Just going off my previous experiences these may include:

1) Mistakenly sending my boss an email in which I complain about said boss (‘sposed to go to a colleague with the same first name as the boss – but that didn’t seem to make the boss feel any better about the situation, the sook);

2) Not showing up at all for my first shift (apparently I was supposed the check the roster or something);

3) Meeting the boss (from number 1, above) in the car park on the morning of my first day, not realising she was my boss, and telling her I had to rush off because “it is my first day today”;

4) After hearing about a boss’s diet ambitions, mentioning (to his face) at morning tea that he probably shouldn’t have that second lamington; and

5) Complaining about the rude and uppity attitude of the receptionist/admin staff before realising that, as a rule, these are the class of people in any office who possess large amounts of power and carry an annoyingly large amount of influence.

Got any of your own? Please post them. I’m not sure I’m quite worrying about this new job enough and the more scenarios to dread, the better.

Currently scrubbing my eyes with steel wool

So along with seeing Katie Holmes pregnant with Tom Cruise’s baby, this picture of Nikki Webster and the movie “The 40-Year Old Virgin”, I now have a new addition to 2006’s list of things that make me want to gouge out my eyes lest I ever see them again.



Shane Warne in raunchy, raucous and randy romp. SURPRISE. Or not.

I don't really care what Shane Warne gets up to in his private time, as long as I don't have to see pictures of it and have the image of him in undies burnt onto my retinas for all eternity.

I feel like those kids on You Can’t Do That on TV when they find out what is in the burgers at Barf’s Burgers...BARF!

Most of all though, I think it’s the playboy undies that is causing the reappearance of my breakfast (not sure if it is visible from that photo, but he is wearing them, I promise).

Now I guess the only way the guy could have any less class would be if... ummmm...


....errrrrm

Hang on, I'm sure there's something....

The Big Brother facial challenge

1 Open your mouth slightly
2 Protrude your jaw forward
3 Now shift that protruded jaw ever so slightly to the right
4 Tip your head to the left
5 Squint a bit
6 Shake your head a bit
7 Slowly exhale in a slightly audible fashion

Congratulations! You have now mastered Tilli’s “oh my god I hate Camilla she stole and now is wearing my dress the bitch I’m going to kill her” face, which featured in last night’s ‘re-entry of the evicted housemates’ Big Brother super-revenge spectacular episode!

Poor Tilli. I can imagine feeling a bit peeved if Camilla had squeezed her ever so slightly skanky-looking body into some of my clothes. Especially if she had stolened those clothes.

I guess it could have been worse. Tilli could have had to come to grips with one of the many ‘promotional models’ (wink wink) in the house this season wearing her clothes. Shudder.

I think it would have been more exciting if Camilla and oats-bitch Anna were allowed to steal something a bit more imaginative. Say, someone’s medication. Or a kidney.

But I guess they have to make the show it suitable for a ‘G’ timeslot. And I guess medical procedures are probably only allowed in the ‘MA’ timeslot.

Wusses.

PS I hope you are all taking the Big Brother facial challenge at work, at your desks, in open-plan work areas!

Corn fakes

Did you get a load of Big Brother last night?

To go with the suprising number of fake boobs in this series, there was a fake eviction.

How cringetasticly fake was Camilla’s reaction to her fake eviction – “No, it’s alright, this is good thing. A really good thing.”

Yeah right.

Way to over-compensate for your obvious disappointment, in a totally and tragically unconvincing manner, Camilla.

Secondly, didn’t Michael look as if he was about to puke when the mother-daughter ‘twist’ was revealed before he could find the truth himself. Ha! Suffer in your jocks, jerk.

Speaking of jerks, it was most revealing to hear David’s reasons for nominating Dino. Ie, that Dino is a flaming homophobe who, despite knowing about David’s 100% gayness, still insists on making homophobic jokes and remarks.

Here’s a special MS paint creation that I think accurately depicts Dino’s personality:



And to think I chose him in our crappy $10 winning housemate bet. Nuts.