January 31, 2006

Right back at ’ya

A book came back to me today. One I dropped on a train (see Books…Nov2005) back in November!

I was standing in the Print Room at work and my eyes were wandering as they do when I have to wait for anything and I saw a book sat on the other bookless work top. So I flipped open the front cover and there was my sticker.

I asked the guy whose book it was (playing innocent) and he replied that he had picked it up on the train some months ago. I asked if he had read it. He said no.

So, I asked if he intended to, when a negative answer came again, I asked why he picked it up (it has a very girlie cover)

‘It was free.’

After a discreet roll of the eyes, I asked if I could have it and told him 'it quite clearly states on the sticker in the front to pass it on when it's finished with.'

'Yeah, no problem. I'm sure your'll enjoy it. It look pretty girlie!'

As tempted as I was to say 'well, i enjoyed it the first time, you bozo!' I resisted and thanked him very much. I picked up my printing and left.

Later in the day I dropped it in the Park. Hopefully, someone who will really appreciate it picks it up this time!

January 22, 2006

Moving On!

S is getting her own salon. I’m so excited for her.I maybe moving on too, but I’m off to Melbourne. So I won’t be able to support my friend in her new endeavour.

My move is caused by a job. A good job, working with people I have worked with before, so I know what I’m getting myself into.


Things that are putting me of are:
I’ve got family in Melbourne
The weather sucks
I’ve got friends in Sydney
The weather sucks

That’s it really, but the weather really does suck. I’ll have to buy a coat!

January 19, 2006

Car Update!

I picked up the car today.

It gets better - Subaru picked up the tab for the parts and the labour. A grand total of $1850.

The reason for this grand gesture, I hear you ask. My four hours on the freeway and the fact that the Belt tension bearing shouldn’t have failed in the first place.

Thank you Subaru!

January 17, 2006

Mastercard!

Cam/drive belt $150
Belt Tension Bearing $300
Idling Belt $300

The 4 hours on the freeway to find out how much these things cost – Priceless!

January 16, 2006

No Sun

PS... even though there was no sunn while I was standing on the freeway with my disabled car. I still managed to get sunburn on the V of my cleavage! I just noticed it.

Day (sorry, it's long)

6.45am - Sleep deprivation. My mum had rung me from Spain (where she lives) and I finally got to turn out the light at 1am, after much chatting and being told to look after myself. So when my alarm went off I wasn’t really ready to get up and face the day.

7.35am - EXTREMLY slow driver. I was five minutes out of the house and travelling a fairly quick clip when I came up behind a very slow driver. Now when I say slow, I mean SLOW. He/she was driving at a whopping 60kph in a 100 zone. Now granted it was a little foggy, unfortunately it was foggy enough that I couldn’t overtake safely. So I was stuck behind this w**ker for over 20km’s. Adding a lot of time to my carefully planned morning.

8.30am – Late. I was late for my appointment, however the news I received was good. Although I still have polycystic kidney disease (that will never go away) I have low carlesterol, my blood pressure is stable and my kidneys are working as they should be. Woohoo!

9.15am – Post office balls up. I had to lodge a large amount of letters at the PO. Now, as a volunteer, I edit a newsletter every 3 months. It is a lot of hard work, and seems to be getting harder. The committee insist I use the ‘account’ to send them out, but no one has been able to give information about this ‘account. So with work and some considerable investigation skills on my part I have done the best I can. Today I went to lodge them. Only the PO I went to (and had approval from the head office) had no record of me. I was there for 45 minutes, but the newsletter got posted. At some point today I was going to get to work. Just before getting back into the car to drive to work, I brought myself some food (California rolls) and a freshly made Carrot, Pineapple and Ginger juice.

10.30 – Road Rage. On the F3 freeway, travelling south bound for Sydney. Travelling at 110 – 115 kmph (110 speed limit) in the inside lane. Got a twit on my outside who is pacing me, but when I’m behind, slows. So I try to overtake. Still pacing me. Guy in the car behind speeds up and gets so close I can see his nose hair in the rear view mirror. I put my foot on the pedal on the right to speed up and …NOTHING!In fact, I start to slow!I press the hazard light button and quickly indicate to go to the hard shoulder (breakdown lane). Nosehairs, starts shout and waving, I behave out of character and give him the finger. Pacer, speeds up and takes off and I slowly drift over the shoulder.Once there I try look at the dash, all lights on; engine, battery, petrol, heat, everything! I turn the engine over. Voom Voom Voom.But it doesn’t start.I get out and nearly get swept of my feet by the passing B-Double (very f**king big truck), the car shakes. I start to walk back the way I came, towards the emergency phone. I get there, a police car stops and the driver ask if I am OK. I say ‘Yeah, just gonna call NRMA.’ He offers to stay and wait while I find out how long it will be. After the phone I tell him, ‘I have to wait for a tow truck to come and move me to a safe spot, them NRMA with come and look, them what ever happens after that.’‘OK, be safe, and wait behind the car, not in front.’ He waves and is gone.
I walk back to my car, open the boot and get out my book. Then I retrace my steps until I am about 20m behind my car, in a dip in the rock wall and have somewhere to escape to in case of a car or truck leaving the carriageway.I open my book and start to read. For a Sydney summers day it is surprisedly cool, and I thank the sky for keeping the rain in the clouds. I wait and I read. I read a true story about a 23 year old and his time in rehab. It is touching and for someone how has never taken drugs, humbling. The tow truck arrives fifty minutes after I lost power and as the boy in the book cries for the first time.The tow truck is only allowed to move me and my car to a ‘safe place’, in this case, about 7 km further down the freeway. He drops me off and tells me NRMA should be along soon.I get out, I read and I wait.

1300 – Drive belt buggered. NRMA arrived, just as the boy in the book realises he is ‘f**ked up and out of control’. I’m busting for a pee, gagging for a drink. It still hasn’t rained, but the clouds are still thick and threatening. I explain what happened, tell him about conversation with my service centre (which incidentally the car spent Thursday and Friday with). He tested the Alternator, not that. Then a bit more poking and prodding until the drive belt was revealed to be shredded.

‘Your cam belts stuffed.'
‘Can you fix it?’
‘Nope, got to be done in the workshop, good 4 hours work, gotta take out the radiator to get to it.’
‘Ohh, that’s not too bad.’
‘Well, not if that’s the only problem. If the pistons carried on moving after it went, they could have touched the valves, if they did, you could have more problems.’
‘Ahh!’
‘You’ll have to wait for the tow truck to take you.’
‘Ahh!’
‘I’ll call him and let him know to come and get you.’
‘Thanks!’
We said our good-byes, and I read and I waited.

1415 – Hello Again. The same tow truck arrived as the boy in the book revealed he doesn’t believe in God and never will. I tend to agree with him.

1430 – Service centre. I stand in the service centre, my car in the background having a man looking under the bonnet and shaking his head. That can’t be good. The guy on reception tells me they will have to have a detailed look before he can give me a price or ETA. I give him my contact details and leave.I walk to the train station and the ticket machine is out of order. There is a queue with about twenty people in it and my train is sat on the platform. The next one in 15 minutes, I join the back of the queue and open my book.

1500 – A long ride. It’s the middle of the day. That means all trains stop at all stations. As the train clatters over the sleeps and tracks, I read more about James and his addictions.

1550 – Food. I realised, I haven’t eaten or had anything to drink since ten this morning. I stop between the station and the office. Yeap, I’m still heading for the office! I get a Tandoori Chicken salad and a lemon, lime and orange fizzy drink. As I walk out of the shop I slip and land on my knees. Bam! I scrape my arm on the pavement.

1605 – My desk, really late. What the f**k I am doing!

1610 – Blog. I write it, I post it. On the plus side of my day, I have learnt pretty much all women drivers get sacred when they breakdown on the freeway (the tow truck driver was impressed with my fortitude), the train takes an age to travel 20kms during the afternoon, people do help you when you fall arse over tit in the street and the boy in the book got clean and stayed that way.

1744 - After looking busy for just under two hours i'm going home. I've had a horrid day!

January 7, 2006

Bruises

Went and saw S today. I have bruises under my arms from the other day. Her comment was, ‘serves you right for straying!’ I know it was only meant in jest, but never a truer word…

She tidied up my eyebrows for me and gave me a pedicure. I now have beautifully painted toenails and smooth heels!

January 4, 2006

Saving V Waxing

I’ve only shaved a few times in my life., always in cases of emergency. For the most part I wax. My Mum introduced me to waxing at the age of 8 when she ran my hand up her stubbly leg and said, ‘Don’t shave, or your whole body will fell like an old mans five o’clock shadow.’

I’ve been a waxer ever since.

Yesterday I had a hairy emergency. I dressed for work, black slacks, red sleeveless top and strappy girl shoes. At lunch time I realised my dressing error. I’m due to see my beauty torturer at the weekend, so my underarms were not fit to be seen in sleeveless. D’oh!

So I popped into my nearest place (3 doors down from the office) and asked if I could get an underarm waxing. The receptionist pulled the waxing girl of her lunch break! I should have run away there and then, but my brain-waves didn’t reach my feet quick enough. She didn’t talk to me at all, she put the wax on really hot, and then she pulled the wax off without holding my skin taught. She hurt me!

Never in the many years I have been waxing have I ever had bruises, until last night. My right underarm looks like it’s been punched.

My regular beauty lady, (I'll call her S), although I call her my torturer has never hurt me, even when pulling out vast tracts of hair. I really must remember I get hairy near an appointment. Ohh…and keep a razor handy if I can’t get to S!

January 2, 2006

Which Whip…?

I learnt how to crack a whip this week. My good buddie Miss Eudoxia showed me how, then with a little practice and aching shoulders I can now crack it every second time I do it!

I’m not proficient enough for a full on Bull whip, I’m learning with a lunge whip. It has a long handle then a whippy bit, not a short handle like the bull whip.

Better go practice…butts awaitin’
.