2012

So another year has passed.  Another year of struggling, trials and the odd moment of joy and hilarity.  I go into 2013 still single with a menagerie of animals that ensure I get out of bed each morning (sometime afternoon). 

Let’s get into this:

January

I started the year at Field Day, a music festival, where I photographed Gotye, Kimbra and Calvin Harris.  This pretty much set the scene for my photography projects for the year. 

I had a garage sale which was a disaster, I made $160. 

I sold Cap’n Hank

Cara turned seven.

February

After a three day hospital stay for a kidney stone I felt it was time to restart my comedy career.    Helen came over from the UK for a few days.

March

A busy month I photographed Jurassic Lounge, Renbury Cats and some street fashion.   Having been unemployed for a while I tried to keep my Funeral Celebrant career off by visiting loads of funeral homes. 

I also started my short lived ‘extras’ career when I spent several hours sitting around and pretending to be a barrister.  It was an interesting experience to see just how long it take to make a TV program.

April
The day known for fools turned into a tragic day for me.  My darling Cara went missing when I went out without her for the first time in weeks.  A storm spooked her, someone picked her up and stole her.
I held my first Tupperware party as a demonstrator.

I started working at FaCS.

May

I found myself lacking a creative outlet so I picked up a crochet hook and some wool.  My first Granny square in about 10 years was a disaster, but it soon came flooding back.
I had seven comedy gigs this month.

I spent a weekend in Melbourne with Sally

June

I went to the theatre, I saw 'When Dad Married Fury'.  It was a lot of fun.

I photographed The Sydney Film Festival Hub and Renbury cats again.  Comedy was good with six gigs.

I started to learn how to play the recorder.

July

This month I learnt that trying to perform comedy on the anniversary of your mother’s death isn’t ideal.  It’s hard to get into ‘the zone’.

I fostered, then adopted FeFe.  After months of looking and several false alarms, my heart, still breaking for Cara, cried out for a Chihuahua companion.

August

A quiet month I volunteered for Oscar’s Law.

Jon visited for two and half days.

Jurassic Lounge started it’s winter season, I photographed it.

September

After being qualified for nearly a year, I finally got around to being a wedding celebrant. 

Agent interviews started again as my contract with FaCS drew to an end

I started studying for a Graduate Diploma in Counselling

October

I fostered Harry.  A Chihuahua/mini foxy that had been left for dead on the roadside.  He and FeFe got on so well, that he ended up getting himself adopted.  Silly boy!
It was my 40^th birthday.  I got two cards and one pressy.  To say it was underwhelming is an overstatement.

Unemployed, still.

November

I kept my head down after the disappointment of October.  I handed in my uni assignments, performed comedy and delivered Toastmasters speeches.

Went the theatre and saw ‘Sex with Strangers’ on 14^th.  Struggling financially as I have all year, I was unable to join everyone for dinner.

Started a three a week contract, because it was all I could get.

December

Photographed Goyte in Melbourne and Sydney.

Went to Perth for work.

Declared a pt 9 debt agreement, but still struggling financially because I’m only working three days a week.

Low on seasonal spirit and cash I've done nothing except walk the dogs the entire Christmas new year season.  forgive for being a tad Bah humbug.

Maybe 2013 will bring better times

Late

You’re not sorry, you’re rude.

If you were sorry, you’d have allowed more time and not been late in the first place.

I’m one of those people that tries to be earlier or on-time for everything I do. If I have an interview at 2.30, I’ll be there at 2.15. I’d rather be sat in reception twiddling my thumbs wondering if everyone that walks passed is the interviewer than have the interviewer think I don’t care enough to be on time.

I had a meeting this morning for 10.30. They turned up 10.35. I’d been waiting in the room for them since just before the meeting start time. They seemed surprised when I closed the meeting on time even though they still had thing to say, but I had another meeting to get too.

During the early months of 2010 I worked in Nigeria. It was an interesting environment to work in for me because always having had the ‘be on time’ mentality I had trouble adjusting to the normalcy of people turning up for meeting half an hour late; without a batt of an eyelid. Often people would wander in at various times during the meeting, make a fuss about the seating or play with their phones and never really have much interest in what the meeting was all about. After four months we finally had a meeting were no one was more than 10 minutes late. It was a compromise.

I was hosting a party at the weekend for a group of ladies and it was due to start at 2pm. I was cooking them lunch and giving a simple cooking lesson. Four of the five ladies arrived at 1.45. They caught up, helped themselves to a drink and settled down. One turned up at ten passed two, decided now was an appropriate time to catch up with every one, help herself to food and drink and wake up the baby. I smiled my way through it with my silent mantra of ‘calm blue ocean’ and carried on. The late comer than refused the lunch I had prepared because she was full. I could handle the late, if she hadn’t have disrupted everything putting me about 30 minutes behind on the demo. Meaning her friends who had come for lunch had to wait longer to eat, while she stuffed her face with leftovers from the fridge. The host said, ‘good job we’re related’.

It seems to have become acceptable to be late. Something starts at 8pm, people don’t turn up until nine when ‘all the interesting people have arrived’.

I dabble in stand-up comedy and I like to see more of the sort of treatment that late comers to comedy shows get. If you wend your way to you seat after the lights have down and a comedian is on the stage expect to be pointed out to the rest of the audience.

‘Hello, welcome, I’m glad you felt like joining us.’

‘I’m sorry our well publicised start time inconvenienced you in any way, would you like me to start again, just for you?’

I’d love to be able to do this when meeting start late because they didn’t allow for that extra time to get their coffee. Or even when someone turns up late for my cooking demos. Out of context though, that doesn’t work. Shame.

Years ago when training I used to make a point of making people who came back from the break tell an embarrassing story, and have the other participants vote if it was embarrassing enough. People were only late back at the first break. So in context it does work.

***

If you factor in time to a financial cost, my time, your time and everyone’s time has a value. When you keep someone waiting for half an hour and they normally earn $50 an hour, that has cost the $25. Imagine eight in a room waiting for a ninth, that’s $200 dollars plus the extra for having to reschedule etc.. It can have a massive knock-on effect.

When you turn up late to a party, you’re disrespecting the host and guest that have bothered to arrive on time. You’re telling them you’re too important to bother with such silly things as a start time or you just don’t care, which is worse, neither sheds a positive light on you.

As a wanna-be stand-up I don’t get paid, but your lateness may put me off and could potentially cost me that entire five minute gig because I lost my flow. That in turn may mean I never get booked at that venue again. It hasn’t happened to me but I know some that it has happened to.

There really is no excuse for lateness just as there is no excuse for rudeness.

I’m not saying I’m never late, that would be a lie. I was three minutes late for a doctors appointment the other day because I failed to keep track of my lunch date. I was mortified. I then waited another 25 minutes for three other people to go in before because the doctor was running a bit behind.

‘He terribly busy and a patient had taken more time than expected’. 25 minutes is not a bit behind, it’s a lot behind.

Spread the appointments out a bit more, see less patients. The three minutes I was late could have been made up by my 10 minute appointment being seven (in fact it was only five because ‘you’re skin is amazing’). Would he have been bothered if I’d have walked out of his surgery, saying I’m also very busy? You bet ya bloomers he would have been, he may have even charged me for failure to cancel.


I hate being late.

I knew it!

I’ve always had a general loathing for a particular fruit that Muv tried to get me to eat. She’d cut it in half, sprinkle sugar on it and grill it. It was too bitter for me, even with copious amounts of sweetness. Muv however, would eat it and make the sounds of a person really enjoying her food.  She loved it.


I try to have fruit every day and often I’ll buy a fruit salad on the walk to work. My regular place know my order and I’m often greeted with, ‘The usual?’

One day I spied something out of place in the lovely, brightly coloured bowl of lushness in the cooler cabinet.

I asked, ‘Have you boobie trapped the fruit salad?’

They had…and it’s no use picking out the offending citrus because it pollutes all that it touches.



Today the newspapers confirm my thoughts on grapefruit. I’m glad I’m right about somethings, this is one of them.

Grapefruit can kill you!

    PS.  My regular supplier never tried to poison me again :)