Blow off!

I heard a great blow off line in a movie the other day. It was a rather silly TV movie called ‘The Librarian : Quest for the Spear’ it starred Noah Wyle (Carter from ER). Anyway, I’ll set the scene.

Noah is on a plane and a beautiful woman comes towards him. She sits down in the seat next to him and he starts to speak to her.

She holds up her hand and says, ‘Let’s just think about this for a second, shall we.’ She turns to him and continues, ‘I am out of your league, I’m so out of your league, that if your league exploded, I wouldn't hear it for three days. So let us continue in a comfortable silence shall we.’

I love it. And best of all, she says it all in a haughty English accent. Sets it off perfectly!

Melbourne Not!

I’m not going to Melbourne!

On Wednesday the guy I was going to be working with was asked to leave. His management style no longer suited the bank. So my reason for moving was removed.
OK, the job I signed up for is still there, but I wasn’t going for the job. I was going for the chance to work with this guy so I could learn how and how not to do things.

Ohh…well, Sydney will just have to put up with me a bit longer.

Billy

It was Valentine’s Day yesterday and for the first time in years, we did something.

After work we had a nice Chinese dinner followed by Billy Connelly in concert at the Sydney Opera House.

I laughed so much I though I was going to wet myself. He came on the stage at 8pm and talked until 11.15, running an hour over. He talked about getting old, renovating houses, religion (many unimpressed faces in the audience), his wife’s trip around the world, his stuffed Scottish wild cat, his days living alone in a Glasgow tenement and finally ballet and opera. At 63, he still pranced around the stage like a school boy and waxed lyrical about peeing.

Today, I ache. My shoulders, my tummy and my jaw. If laughing is such a good form of exercise I should start going to more comedy shows. It beats the gym!

Rudeness in Business

I have alpacas. I’m the editor of a newsletter about alpacas. I am on a regional committee. So not only do I have the pleasure of being an alpaca owner, I have the trouble of dealing with alpaca breeders and newsletter advertisers.

I love being editor of the newsletter, but I don’t like having to gather advertising. I got told to ‘bugger off’ this morning.

I called a countrywide water pump company and asked to speak to the person responsible for the print advertising decisions. The receptionist (I assume) told me that the person was unavailable at the moment. I asked if I was to call back who I should ask for. At that point she said, ‘you may as well bugger off now, she’s busy and won’t speak to you anyway.’ Then she put the phone down on me.

I was shocked, after all my humble publication offers full A4 page black and white for only $80 (Aussie dollars), but I didn’t get to mention that. Chicken feed to a company as big as the one I was calling. So I wonder, how companies manage to get as far as they do with little or no customer service skills. If the receptionist had said, ‘I’m sorry our advertising budget has been allocated this year’ or ‘we only advertise with X and X’ or ‘I’m sorry, we aren’t looking to advertise any more at the moment.’ I would have left them in peace, but, bugger off, that was just RUDE!

When I need to replace the water pumps at the house, I won’t be buying from them.

What are they thinking?

As you will all know by now, I’m moving to Melbourne. Well, I applied to go to Uni down there, so I could continue the studies I started in November in Sydney. I called them to check that it was OK that I was applying late in the season and spoke to a very nice guy who assured me that it was fine and even the fact that I didn’t have an undergraduate degree wasn’t a problem as I had started Postgraduate studies in Sydney. So I sent my application with the transcripts of the postgrad work so far, a list of publications I have achieved, an example of my writing and my CV (resume).

Anyway, I got a letter back on Friday, telling I didn’t satisfy the criteria of entry as I don’t have a udergradute degree.

Yes, an udergraduate degree. They had sent me a letter with a typo on it telling me I wasn’t good enough. The letter was 8 lines at best and they spelt the KEY word wrong!

Do I really want to attend a University that can’t even sent out a correctly spelt rejection letter. Do I really want to attend a university that doesn’t know how to spell check in Word (see Word!) Worse still, it was probably a template and the same error had been sent to others too.

Creature of Habit

I used to bite my nails, but I stopped when I had a boyfriend who had longer nails than me, I was 16 and just coming into my girlieness.
I used to pick my nose, but I stopped when I realised it was Disgusting with a capital D! I was young enough not to worry about it, but old enough to know it was wrong.
Now, I fold sweetie wrappers into knots and leave them wherever I’m sitting (‘cause they are tidy now ;-)
My hubby also tells me I have many more annoying habits that get on his nerves, including leaving the loo seat down.

But just now, in the ladies at work I realised I have one habit that is truly odd. I always go into the same cubicle. As you walk into the room there are five cubicles to the left. I always go into the second one. I just went in and that door was shut and the little red engaged was showing. I paused, not sure what to do, then walked out. A few seconds later I returned having told myself off for being silly and went in the fourth one (which I do when the second is occupied).

Another revelation came to me as I sat. I always sit in the same seat in the little Noodle House I go to for lunch, tucked away in the corner. The same stool at the bench in Sushi Train and even at the Yoshinoya (a natty little Japanese eatery).

What is it with seats? Thinking back I have always done that. Every job I have ever had (and it’s a lot, ‘cause I’m a contractor) I’ve always had a place I ‘sit’.

I must stop! I don't want to be the mad English woman sitting in the same seat and/or scowling at interlopers for beating me too it.

Word!

I was told the other day by a guy I work with that he knew how to use Word. When I asked if he was at beginner, moderate or expert level he assured me he was an expert. I was glad because he had to do some major changes to a document as part of a project I’m working on. The document had been written by a lovely lady who has a passion for Georgia font and loads of colour and highlighting. A subject matter expert in her field, but not a document writer. The 430 pages had a massive 300ish styles!

So, I asked him to put in styles so the document could be indexed and easily maintained. I asked for all the white space to be taken away. I asked for all the bullets to be made uniform (there when 26 different bullet types), spell check it (data base to database and over view to overview etc.), and generally make it into a document that all concerned can be proud of.

He gave it back to me and he had changed the headings to Heading 1, that was it! When I asked him about it, he repeated that he knew how to use word, but he didn’t know how to index. I can’t repeat what I said to him but needless to say it wasn’t polite. I took the document home as I was now running late on the deadline and with the help of my husband (I make no claims to be an expert, but he is) we made a fantastic document.

So…I ask, how can people not know how to use a product that has been around for 10 plus years now, and is the most common word processing package in offices and homes the world over. I understand it’s all about what you use it for, but for goodness sake, surely something simple like styles should be on the list of basic word usage.

As I said before, I’m not a Word expert and still learn things from time to time, but I have to smile when I hear people say ‘Word doesn’t work’ or 'it's crap', then you find out they are trying to do move text around an embedded excel file. (it’s easier to put the file in as a picture via paint)

Anyway, the reason for this rant… I have finally finished the document and it is at the printers. It is 2.30pm on Thursday 9th February 2006.

When I get it back I bet I open it and see an Over View. :-))

It Rains in Melbourne!

I got the job in Melbourne, which means I have to move away from Sydney. I’m glad I landed the plum job that puts my careening career back on course, but I have to move to bloody Melbourne to do it!

Just as I was making friends and getting a life (I’ve been in Sydney three years), I’m moving to a new town, in a new state.

The New Job - Program or Programme (depending were you come from) Manager at a large Australian bank for its Basel II (compliance) program. Lots of high flying and wheeling and dealing to get things done. It should be hard work, but fun. I’ll be working with a couple of people I have worked with before and many I haven’t. One of the guys I will be working with called me Rachel for a whole week even though I had a name tag on.

The Issue – It’s in Melbourne! I understand that it is the cultural capital of Australia, with its art galleries, kick arse shopping and café life, but it also rains more, it’s cold and windy. I’ll have to invest in a coat as I gave my UK ones to charity. In the seven years I have been in Australia I haven’t worn a coat once. With the wind coming straight off the sea from Antarctica (over a lot of sea) it gets a little chilly at times.
I shall miss my friends. Miss Eudoxia (http://misseudoxia.blogspot.com/) the vet cum firefighter cum new career (can’t say what it is, she hasn’t told her mum yet). She’s mad but she looks after my pussy cats like she loves them even though she allergic. She’s been there for me.
My new friend, Miss Kate, the project manager at my current gig. Totally crazy and just as eager to start a new job as I am.
My hubby of course, who is staying in Sydney for a while to sell our house and close up this end. I’m sure we’ll get together at weekends though.

The Planned Solution – To go out with Todd, my drinking buddy, and warm myself from the insides with plenty of Jack. Ohh…and a new alpaca coat ;-)

Timeline :
19.2.06 Fly to Melbourne and check into hotel for two weeks.
20 – 22.2.06 Flat hunting and Melbourne discovery
23.2.06 My first day at new job
25 – 26.2.06 More flat hunting and Melbourne discovery
27 – onwards Hopefully have found flat by now and moved in. Carry on with job.

The Right Tools

I’ve been slack and not written about this, even though it started two week ago. I currently work for an internationally known credit card company. I can’t say the name of it but I’m sure you would recognise it immediately if I did.

I am currently writing training material for a large project that involves many Powerpoint slides. This makes for large files. Two weeks ago I ceased being able to save any more document on my PC or common drives. I have been saving them to a USB key since.

Then a week ago, the printer broke. I spent over an hour trying to un-jam it yesterday. The man from Canon is coming out tomorrow.

A PC still running Windows 95 and Office 2000 I can’t save anything too, a printer that doesn’t work, a PC that make a squealing sound that only whales should be able to hear and assistant that barely speaks English.

I am now unable to save or print. Not bad for someone on a tight deadline.

So it got me to thinking, what ever happened to the term ‘the right tools for the job?’

Don't Drive Sleepy

We’ve all heard the ad campaign; Don’t drive drunk, well I think the new one should be don’t drive sleepy. I know the Aussie's already have Stop, Revive, Survive but I think that slogan is getting tired (pun intended;-)

Last night I had to travel in the early morning, along country roads with the risk of kangaroos and kamikaze possums. I was lucky that I saw none; if I had I wouldn’t have stood a chance. I realised once I reached the freeway and was forced to a more reasonable speed that I had been driving with a ridiculous amount of confidence because I wanted to reach my destination before 2am. I had been driving at speeds that even me, a self confessed lead foot wouldn’t dream of doing during the day or evening. But, it being night (morning in fact) the chances of being caught by Plod was slim to none!

I reached my destination at 1.50am and promptly feel asleep on top on the bed covers, fully dressed. I woke this morning and recalled nearly losing it on a sweeping bend and being blinded by oncoming trucks.

At least when you’re drunk you drive slowly! Or so I have been told, I never drink and drive. But, happily I got into my car sleepy, daft isn’t it?

Stoopid, very, very stoopid!