tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192702352024-03-19T15:20:58.875+11:00Jodie SorrellFran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.comBlogger855125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-9517202268140333722013-06-17T23:13:00.001+10:002013-06-17T23:13:15.543+10:00A break...
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My contract was
cancelled today. Again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m f*cking over it!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve made a decision
because I can’t keep doing a job I no longer feel any affinity for to maintain
a lifestyle I don’t have. I have
no lifestyle, because I’m always playing catch up financially and always
broke. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I brought two tops
last week, in the sale…I hadn’t brought any clothes for over six months because
I haven’t been able to afford to.
I could last weekend. Now I’ll
be taking them back (or at least the one I haven’t worn).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My decision. I thought about doing this last time I
was out of work in January and even mentioned it to a few people and I was
talked out of it. This time I’m
doing it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m going to pack what
I need to survive into some boxes and sell, donate or chuck out everything
else. Books, clothes, furniture,
original artworks, kitchen stuff, the works.. And as much as it pains me, the animals will also be looking
for homes. They can be
separated. Max will have to go
back to the Rescue he belongs to. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will be moving out
of this house to somewhere, wherever.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no current
time frame, but seeing as I’m out of work as of today, I reckon it might be
reasonably quick.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Only yesterday I thought
I was finally catching a break. I
even tossed about the idea of having a long weekend away for the first time in
five years, remembering the last trip away I had, my mum died while I was on
it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve done everything
in the last six years, yes it’s six years since I became single, I’ve tried
starting my own businesses, worked hard and studied hard, but to nought. It’s a constant uphill struggle with no
end in sight because the clouds are so heavy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right now I want to
drive into the bush, then out into the desert and do what so many have
done…disappear.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This may seem like
drastic action, but I can’t keep struggling in what is a short life. My kidneys will kill me before I get
old…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m doing this because
while I will be paid for two weeks, that will be the ONLY money I will
have. I have no savings, nothing I
can mortgage and my credit rating isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. No amount of offers to lend money will
dissuade me, I’ll only have to pay it back at some point.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The troughs outnumber
the peaks. And fear I’m very close
to drowning.<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-36629900810721093512013-06-06T10:53:00.001+10:002013-06-06T10:53:59.395+10:00Payment Required<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As a stand-up comedian there are a few things you expect when turning up to a gig.<br><br>1. There is no dressing room. You'll put your bag in the corner, it may or may not have beer spilled on it when you get back to it. In fact, it may not be there at all.<br><br>2. You'll buy your own drinks. All night.<br><br>3. You won't get paid enough, if you get paid at all, it won't be enough to cover this weeks rent or mortgage payment, but it may be enough to cover out of pocket expensens for the night, eg. parking or train fare, if you're lucky.<br><br>4. As a woman, you won't get laid. Men generally don't find women that will make a joke out of their relationship attractive, unless it's another comedian, then the chances are its open season and you'd better watch what you say and do and you damn well, better be able to do cart wheels in bed.<br><br>5. You may have to stand for the duration if it's a 'sell out' crowd. Chances are you'll get to sit.<br><br>What you don't expect is to have to pay to get in.<br><br><a href="x-apple-data-detectors://0" x-apple-data-detectors="true" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0">Wednesday night</a> I turned up to a gig and was asked to 'donate' $5 to get in, however, it wasn't really a donation. A donation implies it's optional. This wasn't.<br><br>It was explained to me like this. 'We're asking all the acts to donation $5 towards the $1000 prize money.' I was told this at least half a dozen times. Not having $5 on me (I'd had to pay for parking with card) one of the comedians offered to spot me. Please refer to point 3 above.<br><br>I overheard a conversation between the door girl and an associate of the promoter, who had previously told me he hadn't had a chance to shower today, it look like it had a been a week, but that's another story I feel. The door girl asked if she should be charging the judges too. He said 'No, the judges are doing us a favour coming out, the acts, well, you know, they're just acts'. I was furious; I'd already been feeling unsettled as I'd been rushing to get there for the call time, spent ages to find a parking place and ended up paying twenty bucks to make sure I didn't get a parking ticket. I declined to perform. <br><br>The promoter proceeded to tell me all about her issues with the sound system earlier in the evening and how she wasn't being paid either, and then begged me to go on and tell my story. <br><br>I told her that at this stage I was stressed enough to feel vaguely sick and even if I wanted too speak in front of an audience my head space was now completely wrong for performing. <br><br>What started out as an issue with having to pay, it was never an issue that I wasn't being paid, turned into an issue of value.<br><br>Does this promoter value the acts? Yes, she booked them and expected them to come and entertain her paying customers (who incidentally also paid five buck a head for entry), but does she truly value and believe in them? It's my belief that if she really valued them she would charge the punters a little more, ten to seventeen dollars is pretty much the going rate in Sydney, after all she'd be providing a quality evening of comedy, music, magic and storytelling and customers expect a certain level of entertainment for the price of entry.<br><br>You see a band in a pub, you pay $10 you get a pleasant surprise when they turn out to be really good.<br>You pay $200 to see Whitney (may she rest in peace) and you expect class, when you get much less than you expected you are upset.<br><br>What sort of quality do you think the punters where expecting last night with five dollar entry? What was the expectation of the promoter with such a low price of admission?<br><br>I'd say, she had very low expectations and like Naomi Campbell said a few years ago 'I never get out of bed for less than ten dollars'... Or something like that, anyway ;)</span>Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-91288925275782479832013-04-01T14:48:00.001+11:002013-04-01T18:46:48.707+11:00Make it Personal<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">It’s April Fool’s day today. A day when people come out and make
jokes about things that are funny.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Being involved with animal rescue and
knowing people who have horses and the space for more I shared a plea on
Facebook today about a horse based in Melbourne that was to be killed due to
poor breeding lines if he didn’t find a home quickly. I sent a message to the
originator of the post (one Grace BL) to ask </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Lucida Grande"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">if it was a hoax, you know, just to confirm my suspicion</span><span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';">.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I wrote <i><span style="color: #38761d;">‘Knowing nothing about horses or
breeds, I have posted the picture of the horse in need of a forever home on my
page in good faith that it is genuine and not a hoax. Yet I read on your page
that it's an April Fool's.</span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #38761d;"><i>Could you please confirm if this is a
genuine call for a forever home for a cross breed stallion?’</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">She confirmed that it was indeed a joke,
because of the reference to Pegesus,<i> <span style="color: #e06666;">‘</span></i></span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Lucida Grande"; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Lucida Grande";"><i>Pegasuss don't exist in anyway shape or form and your the only
one that got offended’</i></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: #e06666;"><i>.</i> </span> </span>She suggested I was the only one offended by the post. I wasn’t offended, just upset for her. That she felt it amusing to make jokes of such things. She then accused me of not being able to take a joke. I’m completely aware of the myth, but no knowing anything
about horses it could well have been a breed as well. After all a Labrador x Poodle is call a Labradoodle but
there is no such breed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I stupidly entered into a private
conversation with this person, who incidentally, knows what a baby alpaca was
called when I asked, I was stunned because otherwise she came across as being
somewhat ignorant.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">At one point she said</span> <span style="color: #e06666;"><i>‘my sister is really
disabled and even she isn't that stupid’</i>.</span>
If she really though I was stupid, surely likening me to her sister is
unfair to her sister and why did she feel the need to mention she had a
disabled sister?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Grace BL clearly know how to make a flame
war personal, when she knows nothing about the person she’s flaming. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I may have lowered myself to her level when
I said <i><span style="color: #38761d;">‘Wow...you're in rescue. I pity any animal that passes through your
hands, because you have displayed a clear contempt for animal life today.’</span></i> I
was referring to making a joke out of killing unwanted animals.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">She replied with, <span style="color: #e06666;"><i>‘At least I know what I
am doing you show contempt for animal welfare by not knowing what the f*ck you
are on about. At least I know about animals, breeds and how to look after
them.</i>’ </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Horses just aren’t my area of
interest, I shared the post with
friends that do have an interest in horses, I deleted the post as soon as I
realised it wasn’t a genuine plea for assistance. I have often shared pleas for forever homes with friends that I know have interest in the area, it doesn't mean I have to be an expert myself. Birds, cats, dogs, horses, music, cars and stereo equipment. I shared it all. I know bugger all about a lot of it and leave further research up to the person interested. I know cats, dogs and camelids in the animal world.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a cat that was going to be put down
her breeder because she was a poor example of the breed. Oren is beautiful despite having a wonky tail. Shemay not be a perfect Japanese
Bobtail, but she didn’t deserve to die for that. So I took her
in, had her de-sexed and she will
live a happy and full life. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Of course I questioned myself about whether
I was being over sensitive to this post based on Oren and my active status in the animal rescue arena. Then Grace BL questioned
how I survive April Fool’s each year.
I know how: I smile at Drop Bears, the Prime Minister getting a perm, and
something else completely ridiculous.
Not a helpless animal being put to sleep because it’s a poor breed
(regardless of intention and final word being the clue to the joke).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I ask that you read for yourself and you be the judge. Read every word. Did you at any point up until the final word think it was anything but genuine. Would you have 'shared', but wondered?<br /><br />Is this funny or could you have found it plausible as well?</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsl4OiVvVlsKl55VLXtmcT89oBOQ9DNCfGeGMKkC797X94VfQacodW8aiYmBrs5FUddoHq6oFKhuJ_V9pi43WkXaR8QVUgIeBsjldL8JMEOT5WfqZHoroZnySJmX3qY_ubZEIASA/s1600/pegasus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsl4OiVvVlsKl55VLXtmcT89oBOQ9DNCfGeGMKkC797X94VfQacodW8aiYmBrs5FUddoHq6oFKhuJ_V9pi43WkXaR8QVUgIeBsjldL8JMEOT5WfqZHoroZnySJmX3qY_ubZEIASA/s320/pegasus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
I'm not devoid of humour, as anyone that knows me will tell you. It's just this is at the expense of a voiceless (and indeed non-existent animal that cannot defend itself). Perhaps, if the word 'Arabianxpergasus' had appeared at the top if may have be more clear as a humour piece.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(*Grace BL didn't sensor her use of the swear word, I did that for you. Also, this is her artwork I had nothing to do with it creation).</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-49153569667725811872013-02-10T23:21:00.001+11:002013-02-10T23:21:44.978+11:00Year of the Snake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSl3996Pp6qsQKi6i9wq8gUNfHJkFlxGirpamnWZCgsPYE3PcH9RSErWiNzunU54C7uc09tGCm-w0L46B0C_8ieD2PuD7hxsPL9KZxudRzxcfwOSxPDw57GJrta3lnYb0V3Hcvlw/s1600/dreamstime_xs_27931260+SNAKE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSl3996Pp6qsQKi6i9wq8gUNfHJkFlxGirpamnWZCgsPYE3PcH9RSErWiNzunU54C7uc09tGCm-w0L46B0C_8ieD2PuD7hxsPL9KZxudRzxcfwOSxPDw57GJrta3lnYb0V3Hcvlw/s320/dreamstime_xs_27931260+SNAKE.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Today marks the start of Year of the Snake in Chinese zodiac.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Muv would have been turning 60 this year.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The sudden realisation today hit me like a punch to the face<br />
<br /></div>
Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-74201481154413280632013-01-14T11:23:00.001+11:002013-01-14T11:23:38.051+11:00Power's outLast night the neighbourhood I live in experienced a power outage. I live in a suburban area with plenty of houses and apartments wedged into an area the size of your average English country manor. <br />
<br />
After a week of scorching heat and bush fire danger across the whole of New South Wales, the rains arrived. It started with drizzle just after lunch, but 4pm the thunder had started to roll through the clouds. About 5pm, there was a loud bang from the back of the house, the power went off for a moment then flickered back to life. Another loud bang, and the power died once more. Investigation, me standing the back garden looking over the fence, revealed nothing. Once out the front, Beryl, the old lady that misses, nothing told me she’d seen flashes at the main road. She also had no power. <br />
<br />
I rang the power company to report it. They were already aware and had ‘dispatched a crew’.<br />
<br />
What now?<br />
<br />
My plan of making tomato sauce from the kilos of Roma tomatoes I harvested was out the window because my cooker and oven run on electric.<br />
<br />
I’ll send some emails and catch up with my communications. No good, my wireless comes from a box that is plugged in.<br />
<br />
I’ll play Farnville2. Harvest a few virtual crops and make virtual tomato soup and milk virtual cows. Not to be, the internet is powered by the electrical pulses no longer accesses my abode. <br />
<br />
I got out the candles and lit a few. I even found some lamp oil and got the glass lamp I have going. It gives of great light. Even though it wasn’t dark outside, inside it was. <br />
<br />
What should I do now?<br />
<br />
I’ll read. I sat out the back and read for a bit until the mozzies started biting. I moved inside. Sent a few tweets, updated Facebook, but because my phone had been off charge all day I was down to 20% juice. How to charge it? I needed power for that. After an hour sitting in the car I had managed to get my phone back to 80% charge. I switched to Airplane mode and wondered what else I could do. <br />
<br />
I lit the barbeque and grilled a lamb chop for dinner. I sat and watched the flames die to create the lingering red that cooks the food. That entertainment lasted about 15 minutes. Lamb cooks really quickly.<br />
<br />
The light levels in my house, despite having the entire stock of a small Dusk store burning, was low. It was, romantic. That’s all well and good for a nice night with a lover and a glass of wine, but I needed to do something. After nearly four hours of no power I was frustrated. I rang the power company again for an eta on supply.<br />
<br />
A prerecorded message informed me, ‘We are aware of a problem in your area but have no idea what the cause it. We estimate that power will be restored by eleven PM.’<br />
<br />
If you don’t know the cause how can you estimate the return?<br />
<br />
It was 9.30pm. Pitch dark outside and in. Reading was out, I don’t have the sight of an owl. Crochet had been tried by this point too and I kept dropping stitches and missing them, repairing the damage done to the project would take ages. So, to bed.<br />
<br />
I cleaned my teeth by candlelight. Changed into my bed clothes and carried the glass lantern into my bedroom. The dogs looked confused. Surely this wasn’t it for the evening, it was far too early.<br />
<br />
I tried reading again, just in case I’d made a mistake about the light levels, but it just wasn’t possible without straining my eyes.<br />
<br />
So I laid back, closed my eyes and pictured how the world would have looked in the days before power to every house. It was bleak.<br />
<br />
What’s bleaker though is that the developed world is entirely reliant on electricity. The games we play, our cooking (yes, I prefer gas myself, but don’t have that luxury in my house), our washing machines, water heating, our communications devices. I have an oil lamp because I like old things. I have candles for scent, not light. I took advantage of a forced early night.<br />
<br />
What would happen if we lost the ability to make power completely? I fear many would cease to exist because they simply would not know what to do.<br />
<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-34133614169613651882013-01-07T16:36:00.001+11:002013-01-07T16:38:39.768+11:00AssumeIn 2010 I spent much of the year working in Africa. <br />
<br />
<br />
From this statement, what assumption did you make, if you didn’t know that about me already? <br />
<br />
That I worked for an aid agency doing good works for the poor, hungry and homeless? Maybe you thought I volunteered my time working in a field hospital. You almost certainly asked yourself, ‘Ohh, I wonder which agency?’ Thinking Doctors without Borders, Unicef, Oxfam etc.<br />
<br />
Alas, it was nothing so noble. I work for a bank, doing office stuff, and I was paid, well. Few people find that out.<br />
<br />
My point is that people make assumptions about everything you say and unless they ask for specifics, which they rarely do, that’s the impression they keep about you. It can lead to all sorts of problems, in the workforce and in person. I’m as guilty as anyone. <br />
<br />
I do do good works. I volunteer my time, mostly with animal charities. I figure enough people focus on people (an assumption). Animals can’t speak for themselves, so need twice as many voices raised for them.<br />
<br />
Currently I’m crocheting blankets. Basically, massive granny squares, but blankets none the less. I was asked on the train this morning what I was doing. The fact the 20 something had no idea what crochet is, is a topic for a whole other blog entry. Having established the lack of knowledge regarding the gentle arts, I said ‘it’s going to be a blanket for charity’.<br />
<br />
I’ve been here before, so when asked what charity I simply said, ‘the homeless’.<br />
<br />
Last time I specified and said, ‘for animal shelters’, I was treated to a tirade of words and spit that went along the lines of ‘people are far more important’. I didn’t wish to risk going to work and sitting in someone else’s sputum all day, so decided to be vague, based on the prior experience.<br />
<br />
She surprised me. ‘Ahhh…the doggies and pussy cats with love that. They’ll be able to make a nest to snuggle into’.<br />
<br />
I did my best impression of a guppie, and when recovered I confirmed her assumption. <br />
<br />
We proceeded to chat about animals in shelters and how her three dogs had all been adopted for shelters. I’d made assumptions about her, based on the station she got on at, her style of dress, even her immensely coiffed hair. I was wrong. She was remarkably normal and without the pictures stick.<br />
<br />
She voiced her assumption. As we were departing the train she said, ‘Thank you for talking to me. I’m new in Sydney and I was afraid you’d ignore or be rude to me, people on public transport here can be so strange.’ <br />
<br />
I left her with this and, ultimately, a smile on her face, ‘Yeah, but that because I’m weird’.<br />
<br />
Remember, to assume, you make an <strong>Ass</strong> of <strong>U</strong> and <strong>Me</strong>. <br />
<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-92011118677781941722012-12-31T23:43:00.001+11:002012-12-31T23:43:18.462+11:002012
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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).
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Let’s get into this: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>January</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I had a garage sale which was a disaster, I
made $160. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I sold Cap’n Hank</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Cara turned seven.<br />
<br /><b>
February</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>March</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>April</b><br />
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.<br />
I held my first Tupperware party as a demonstrator.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I started working at FaCS.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>May</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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.<br />
I had seven comedy gigs this month.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I spent a weekend in Melbourne with Sally</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>June</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I went to the theatre, I saw 'When Dad
Married Fury'. It was a lot of fun.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I photographed The Sydney Film Festival Hub
and Renbury cats again. Comedy was
good with six gigs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I started to learn how to play the recorder.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>July</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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’.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>August</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">A quiet month I volunteered for Oscar’s
Law.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Jon visited for two and half days.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Jurassic Lounge started it’s winter season,
I photographed it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>September</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">After being qualified for nearly a year, I
finally got around to being a wedding celebrant. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Agent interviews started again as my
contract with FaCS drew to an end</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I started studying for a Graduate Diploma
in Counselling</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>October</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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!<br />
It was my 40<sup>th</sup> birthday.
I got two cards and one pressy.
To say it was underwhelming is an overstatement. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Unemployed, still.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>November</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I kept my head down after the
disappointment of October. I
handed in my uni assignments, performed comedy and delivered Toastmasters
speeches.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Went the theatre and saw ‘Sex with Strangers’
on 14<sup>th</sup>. Struggling financially
as I have all year, I was unable to join everyone for dinner.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Started a three a week contract, because it
was all I could get.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>December</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Photographed Goyte in Melbourne and Sydney.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Went to Perth for work.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Declared a pt 9 debt agreement, but still
struggling financially because I’m only working three days a week.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">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.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Maybe 2013 will bring better times</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-42356579352743621102012-12-31T22:27:00.000+11:002012-12-31T22:27:40.850+11:00LateYou’re not sorry, you’re rude.<br />
<br />
If you were sorry, you’d have allowed more time and not been late in the first place.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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’.<br />
<br />
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’.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
‘Hello, welcome, I’m glad you felt like joining us.’<br />
<br />
‘I’m sorry our well publicised start time inconvenienced you in any way, would you like me to start again, just for you?’<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
There really is no excuse for lateness just as there is no excuse for rudeness.<br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
‘He terribly busy and a patient had taken more time than expected’. 25 minutes is not a bit behind, it’s a lot behind. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
<br />
<br />
I hate being late.<br />
<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-41810611249351474582012-12-04T17:22:00.001+11:002012-12-31T22:23:10.989+11:00I 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.<br />
<br />
<br />
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?’<br />
<br />
One day I spied something out of place in the lovely, brightly coloured bowl of lushness in the cooler cabinet.<br />
<br />
I asked, ‘Have you boobie trapped the fruit salad?’<br />
<br />
They had…and it’s no use picking out the offending citrus because it pollutes all that it touches.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Today the newspapers confirm my thoughts on <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/diet-and-fitness/not-all-fruit-is-good-fruit-20121203-2aquw.html" target="_blank">grapefruit</a>. I’m glad I’m right about somethings, this is one of them.<br />
<br />
Grapefruit can kill you!<br />
<br />
PS. My regular supplier never tried to poison me again :)Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-35051863498207463242012-10-25T10:46:00.001+11:002012-12-31T22:23:37.800+11:00CancelledThe job market at the moment is an interesting one to be looking for a job in.<br />
<br />
In the last three weeks, three jobs that I have been submitted for have been cancelled due to 'Budgetary issues'. <br />
<br />
You'd think that budget would be sorted and finalised before putting a job out into the market place? Clearly not, or it's just the soft, fluffy stuff, change management, that is no longer being included or taken out of project briefs.<br />
<br />
I have five days.Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-88999914851117753942012-10-22T21:17:00.002+11:002012-12-31T22:23:51.089+11:00ABC Meme<br />
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
A - Are you single? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Yes</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
B - Because? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> I am</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
C - Crush? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Yes</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
D - Drink you last had? A bottle of dessert wine</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
E - Easiest to talk to? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Men</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
F - Favourite Song? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Oh Very Young by Cat Stevens</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
G - Greatest Memory? Camping on the the Isle of Wight</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
H - Hometown?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Guildford, Surrey UK</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
I - In love?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Yes</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
J - Jealous?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>No</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
K - Known longest?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Janneke<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
L - Last Text?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> to JH</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
M - Middle Name?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Elizabeth<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
N - Number of Siblings? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Loads if you count steps and halves</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
O - One Wish:<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Never have to worry about money again</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
P - Person you last called?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Job agent</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
Q - Question I'm always asked.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Why?</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
R - Reason to smile?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Many and varied</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
S - Song I last heard?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Can't remember </div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
T - Time I woke up?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Today, 10.30</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
U - Umbrella Colour? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Black with cloud on the inside</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
V - Violent Moment?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Ripping up the grass vines today</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
W - Worst Moment?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Muv dying</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
X - Person I'll never stop loving?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Muv</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
Y - Your last hug? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> GB</div>
<div style="color: #333233; font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 13px;">
Z - Zodiac Sign?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Libra</div>
Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-55225344162121599542012-10-02T15:48:00.000+10:002012-12-31T22:24:15.978+11:00PigsI saw a story in the Sydney Morning Herald this morning and all I could think was surely the police aren't going to <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/world/farmer-eaten-by-his-pigs-20121002-26way.html" target="_blank">rule out foul play</a> without any further investigation? They have so far suggested he had a medical emergency, such as a heart attack. You think? <br />
<br />
Have they not seen or read <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0212985/" target="_blank">Hannibal</a> where Mason Verger is planning on feeding Doctor Lecter to the piggies in the barn?<br />
<br />
The perfect murder or just a tragic accident?<br />
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<em>La Laa Laa!</em></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Picture borrowed from </span><a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/science/science-news/8584443/Pigs-could-grow-human-organs-in-stem-cell-breakthrough.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">, I had absolutely nothing to do with taking it or making it and credit belong to the originator. </span></div>
Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-29863439734623875852012-09-25T10:35:00.000+10:002012-12-31T22:24:32.284+11:00Mr. Boots<br />
A friend died today.<br />
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I use the word friend because of the effect this news has had on me is unexpected, tear producing and a general feeling of overwhelming grief. <br />
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The thing is I have never met this friend or even spoken to this friend. We’ve exchanged a few postcards and until this morning I only knew his parents as ‘the fatties’. Their names where only revealed to me through messages of condolence on Facebook. Yes, this is a Facebook friend.<br />
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The power of social media has revealed it more bonding side. The power to make friends from those you are yet to meet.<br />
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I know this is going to sounds daft, but I’m devastated that Barney Boots has passed away after an accident on the farm a few days ago. I know he was a dog on the other side of the planet, from a town I’ve never been too (and unlikely to go to). I know that the character I looked forward to posts from was the human in his life, his adoring Mum, Deb. I really like that woman’s sense of humour.<br />
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No matter how down I was, a post of ‘I’ll be outside now’ or I’m up now’ brought a smile to me face.<br />
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And those damned giant pumpkins!<br />
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I can’t explain to you why this has upset me so much, it’s irrational and some, I’m sure will think ridiculous, but you know what, I cannot control my emotions over this, when I do try snot starts pouring from my nose and water leaks from my eyes. I feel for the man and woman behind the dog we loved. Really, I'm having this outpouring of emotion for them.<br />
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Has the death of a small brown dog remained me of Muv, John and Cara. All I have lost in the last few years. I know Cara isn’t dead, but the mystery of her disappearance remains. I like to be able to mourn her, but I can’t, I know she’s out there still.<br />
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I feel for the Boots family at this time, the devastation of having to make such a hard decision and then having to tell the world, his nearly 5000 online followers. <br />
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Deb and Paul, while we didn’t know each other, my thoughts are with you at this terrible time. Grieve your boy Barney and don’t let anyone tell you ‘he was just a dog’.* We know that isn't true and anyone who says it doesn't understand the unconditional love a dog can give. <br />
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Barney Boots, corgi and farmer, Rest In Peace, in your astral vegetable patch, and may you enjoy an endless supply of bacon, cheese curd and gravy. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Yes, I’ve been told that many times and I’m sure they will get the same.</span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Picture from </span><a href="http://romanticeditor.blogspot.com.au/2011/12/grief-work.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-small;">here</span></a> <span style="font-size: x-small;">and</span><a href="http://www.livinghealthyworldwide.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> here</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">...I had nothing to do with it's creation, but it's very pretty don't you think?</span>Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-72158659530844823312012-09-24T11:11:00.002+10:002012-12-31T22:24:46.610+11:00DaydreamingFrom my desk I can see the planes flying over the Star Casino, and I often think to myself, which far flung place are you going to? <br />
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Then I think where would I be if I could be anywhere but here? The first, quick answer is usually, anywhere but here.<br />
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This morning was no exception, after a hideous Monday morning trip to work. I had a twelve minute walk to the station because the parking situation is so bad at my local station, but I had to go there this morning because I needed to buy a ticket. The walk and queue for ticket caused to me miss my train by about 30 seconds. A fifteen minute wait for the next one stretched in 30 when the 9:01 was cancelled. <br />
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If I'd known that the train was cancelled sooner I could have walked back to my car to to get my phone from the front seat, which I noticed was missing from my bag when I got my purse out to pay for my ticket. <br />
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Once on the train, it was packed. That's what happens when a train gets cancelled. A big bottomed Indian man sat next to and his friend across the aisle. Not having my phone I was unable to block them out with noise cancelling headphones, so had to focus on the sprayed artwork of hyena, soup and wayward. They are very naughty boys with a passion for purple, yellow and silver, but they do help the time pass as you figure out what's new on the canvas' of walls, signal boxes and fine wire mesh.<br />
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I got to work at 10.<br />
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Some days it's better if you don't have to get out of bed.<br />
<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-31002258423585983812012-09-20T12:03:00.000+10:002012-12-31T22:24:59.975+11:00URGENT!What does the word URGENT mean to you?<br />
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To me it means some thing that requires a rapid response and quick solution.<br />
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Once again I find myself frustrated by the behaviour of others. I know I can not control the actions of others, but that doesn’t stop me wanting to shout, ‘Come on, get your act together!’<br />
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Over three weeks ago (in August) my CV was submitted for a job and then two days later I was asked to provide more detailed information about a particular time period. The advert said the person selected was required to start ASAP as it was an urgent requirement.<br />
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I’m still waiting to receive any further feedback on my CV or be asked to attend an interview.<br />
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I am going through an agent and I have followed up a couple of times. Today I was told it can take up to four week to receive feedback.<br />
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I would like to clarify my understanding of the word is correct and it is: <a href="http://dictionary.com/">Dictionary.com</a> defines the adjective, urgent, in three ways, but the most relevant one to this is use is; 'compelling or requiring immediate action or attention; imperative; pressing: an urgent matter.'<br />
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Considering the nature of the business that I have applied for; it worries me that urgent doesn’t seem to mean to them what it means to everyone else in the world.<br />
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If I had an emergency and I called these people for assistance, I would expect a rapid response, as would anyone else calling them. It’s likely that I would get one too; depending on want other emergency situations there were happening at the same time as mine.<br />
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Clearly filling the civilian roles they have advertised have now fallen from the top of the to-do-list due to drive by shootings, robberies, traffic control and kittens stuck up trees.<br />
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Please say what you mean and mean what you say.</div>
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Picture borrowed from <a href="http://www.stories-for-children.ca/the-kitten.php" target="_blank">here</a>, I had nothing to do with creating it!<br />
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<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-41912895830274048932012-09-19T16:43:00.001+10:002012-12-31T22:25:20.048+11:00Black BeardIt be International Talk Like Pirate Day today me hearties, yarrr, and as Cap'n of this ship, I feel the day has sailed well for a lily livered scoundrel. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9V99lLx3ZwsOvBqvP-hZCENgWswZNhyphenhyphenqCnAAbvh6afmtcEBGDVx4J8k10gEDIwzMLInBM4Iik2-pe91IYJ1ULUhzAj-6meUvXDFvp2FCPwwexIoRl00MOsIFLaDChvya17kZrg/s1600/pirate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9V99lLx3ZwsOvBqvP-hZCENgWswZNhyphenhyphenqCnAAbvh6afmtcEBGDVx4J8k10gEDIwzMLInBM4Iik2-pe91IYJ1ULUhzAj-6meUvXDFvp2FCPwwexIoRl00MOsIFLaDChvya17kZrg/s320/pirate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The sun will soon set fer ya all in Aussie and I'll walk the plank to a better place (home). The land lubbers that we office dwellers are, we'll scatter to the four winds until the morrow.<br />
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So drink up me hearties, for another 364 days we must wait, before we can don our eye patches, dress in threads of the ocean and doff our tricorns to sea going scallywags of days of yore.<br />
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Yarrr, barrel of rum, me hearty?<br />
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Picture borrowed from <a href="http://nycjrsailing.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/pirate-day.html" target="_blank">here</a>, I had nothing to do with creating it!<br />
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<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-5504896808585440522012-09-19T15:10:00.000+10:002012-12-31T22:25:44.388+11:00World gone madDo you remember when you were a child? Playing on your scooter, push-bike or strap-on roller skates outside the house? Round and round you'd go for hours. Mum and Dad had told you where you could go to and you daren't go beyond those limits.<br />
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My brother and I were allowed to go over to the woods. A small crop of trees on the edge of a playing field across the road from our house. He was allowed to go into the field with his friends and play football while I was to stay in the woods, climb trees (yes, I climbed tress) or made Mud Pies. <br />
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We would be out of sight of Muv and/or Dad for hours. Muv would be inside cooking up a storm or out in the back garden tending the veggies, while Dad would be servicing the taxi.<br />
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Just to prove how crazy the world has become a woman, Tammy Cooper, <a href="http://www.news.com.au/world/mum-arrested-for-letting-children-play-outside/story-fndir2ev-1226477038612" target="_blank">has been arrested for letting her children (aged 6 and 9) play in the cul-de-sac outside her house unsupervised</a>. Shock horror!<br />
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I wouldn't want to be the neighbour that reported her to the police for abandonment. <br />
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Is the world really such an awful place now that a mother can't watch her children from the kitchen or the comfort of a lawn chair? Do we really have stand over our children 24/7?<br />
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I'm so glad I was given the chance:<br />
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- to play in the mud without being told, 'get out.'<br />
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- to learn the hard way that sticks do not make good imitation cigarettes. I fell over and landed on the stick injuring the back of my throat.<br />
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- to learn, never borrow a bike from a kid you just met and ride it really fast down a hill, because the brakes may not work. Cue fat lip, grazed knuckles and scabs covering the right side of the face.<br />
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- Stinging nettles hurt a lot when you fall from a tree into a patch.<br />
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- and don't jump into the deep end of the pool when you can't swim, it get really ugly real quick until that 10 year old saves you.<br />
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Kids have to learn lessons. They only get some lessons when they go out into the world. The front garden and safety of the cul-de-sac you live in is the very edge of the world and needs to be explored when you're in running while crying distance from home.<br />
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The police need to question the intentions of the neighbour and how they reacted. Surely when the woman you've come to arrest approaches you because she's seen you arrive it's clear she hasn't abandoned her children in her own front garden.<br />
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Charges have been dropped and Tammy is going after the police by suing them. Only in America?<br />
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Picture borrowed from <a href="http://fantasticfashions.wordpress.com/2012/02/12/roller-skating/" target="_blank">here</a>, I had nothing to do with creating it!<br />
<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-27214365592288960142012-09-18T10:20:00.000+10:002012-12-31T22:26:12.126+11:00IntelligenceYesterday morning, Rizzo the chicken managed to evade me. She didn't want to go back into the chicken house after the morning scratch, so she squeezed her deceptively skinny body out of the run. After I'd tried to encourage her back, she used the compost bin and then the potting shelf to get onto the top on the chicken house. I couldn't get her up there.<br />
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After the roof, she moved into a tree.<br />
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This all took about three minutes. A bird that can't fly and is notoriously dumb figured out if she got up high, the predator (that's me) couldn't reach her.<br />
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I came home after dark and couldn't find her. I feared she may have fluttered down into the garden behind us. There be two big dogs there that wouldn't have taken kindly to her intrusion. She may have wandered a little further into the garden of the family I have no doubt would have had her on a spit by lunchtime (I know this from conversations and experience).<br />
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Turns out she was next door, she's safe there because the three lazy brothers live there. I'll go and get her when she roosts later. <br />
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It maybe nature that send her high and hide when she perceives danger, but I think it's pretty smart she figured out how to get high so quickly while running around clucking. Most animals will avoid danger rather than run headlong into it.<br />
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So why is it that humans, supposedly the smartest creatures on earth can't figure out that avoiding agro is better than starting it? That violence begets violence and posters and banners spewing hate messages only affirms what some were already thinking, which in turn leads to more violence.<br />
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Live in peace, spread no messages of hate and remember when you're out on your own, you're much more vulnerable and more easily picked off, which no one really wants...<br />
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...unless they fancy chicken for dinner.<br />
<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-25729401656455069272012-09-14T11:07:00.000+10:002012-12-31T22:26:43.002+11:00Mid LifeIn just under three weeks, I’ll be turning 40. I don’t have an issue with aging. I know I’ll do it disgracefully and I have no issue with that. What I do have an issue with is doing a job I hate, working for the man to spend the rest of my life struggling financially.<br />
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I asked a question on my Twitter this morning; ‘In this day and age: what’s the point of being a good and helpful person? Really, I’d like to know why I waste my time.’<br />
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I asked this because last night a buxom, burlesque dancer that I photographed for free as part of an event asked me to remove the photos I had taken of her because of ‘unflattering angles’. She asked me to leave a couple as they where beautiful. I had carefully selected all the photos posted so as not to show skin rolls (no easy task), smiles (plenty of those) and to show the very essence of her performance. Despite her size she had grace, elegance and dancing skills of a woman considerable smaller. I removed all the photos I had taken.<br />
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I give my time for free because I enjoy taking pictures in a challenging environment (lots of movement, bad lighting and having to ask people if they'd like their photo taken). In total I spend three hours at the event (it's a fortnightly thing), then up to three hours processing the pictures. It usually costs me $10 to park the car, plus the petrol to and from the event. So when asked ‘as an artist I have to careful of how I’m seen’, I say, as an artist and someone who isn’t being paid, I was doing you a favour by giving you free publicity, so you get nothing’. <br />
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I’m sick of ungrateful people, just taking. It seems that the world has more of them these days<br />
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When <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leo_Durocher" target="_blank">Leo Durocher</a> said, ‘Nice guys finish last’, I’m sure he was talking about baseball, but you know what, I’ve come to the conclusion it’s in all walks of life.<br />
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I’ve lived my life as a good person. I help old ladies out, I ask homeless people, ‘have you eaten today?’ and follow through when they say no. I volunteer my time to a number of non for profit organisations. And you know, when I try and do something for me, I get nothing back. So I’m taking it back. I’m not going to commit to anymore volunteer things that cost me money. I’m going to do something for me and anyone with an opinion can go f*ck themselves.<br />
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I’m not saying I don’t have a few supporters, I do, and thank you to those of you that ‘get’ me.<br />
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So this is my plan.<br />
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I’m going to get a part-time job and study full time. I may, if I have to, sell everything of value that I own and get a housemate (that really is the last resort).<br />
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I think I can cope with a job I hate if I only have to do it three days a week.<br />
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I haven’t brought a sports car or a flash motorbike…but I do believe this is what they call a midlife crisis<br />
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Finally something the middle classed white lady can talk about at stand-up comedy!<br />
<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-49391480369715867492012-09-11T15:14:00.001+10:002012-12-31T22:22:18.092+11:00AuditionI have 50 minutes to kill before leaving the office today. I may do some work in the time, but it’s more likely I’ll blog, read a story or two from the newspaper, but I’m most likely to try and learn my lines for the audition I’m about to attend.<br />
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Why am I going to an audition, you ask. Because I can, is my reply.<br />
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I may have mentioned this before but I’m not entirely satisfied with my current career progression. I think I know what I want to do and were I want to go, but in the mean time of making that happen I’m doing other stuff.<br />
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Can I cut it as a presenter on a TV channel dedicated to career development and work/life balance?<br />
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I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.<br />
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Welcome to WorksTV, I am your host, Jodie! [cue smile]<br />
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Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-12761452382056678922012-09-04T14:15:00.000+10:002012-12-31T22:27:00.686+11:00Temper temperI have noticed recently people are getting angrier on the roads.<br />
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This morning when I was driving the train station I was on the receiving end of driver aggression. I’m not sure it would classify as road rage. I was caught in the wrong lane and put my indictor on. I then slipped into a space that was more than large enough to fit my tiny car into, in front of the white van of a plumber. I know he was a plumber because his branding was all over the van, along with his phone number. What happened next was the start of a few minutes of road harassment.<br />
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First he lent of his horn for a prolonged period of time. More than enough to show his displeasure you’d think.<br />
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Then he proceeded to tailgate me for a about a kilometre, all the time making hand gestures that would make a sailor blush, of course I just laughed it off and resisted temptation to brake suddenly.<br />
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Then, as the road widened to two lanes, I moved over to let him pass, and pass he did, only to rapidly pull back in front of me (sans indication), before speeding off and into the other lane. Further up the road he pulled back into the left lane without indicating. <br />
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Over now you’d think. Ohh now…he was now still really angry about my indication and moving front of him over five minutes ago.<br />
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As I pulled up level with him again at traffic lights, two lanes away, I caught him make gestures at me from the corner of my eye. I didn’t feel the need to look at him and give him the satisfaction of screaming at my silently and I really didn’t want him to see me smiling at his ridiculous behaviour.<br />
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Of course, I second guessed myself. Had a cut in too close? No, I could clearly see his entire front in my side mirror and over my shoulder. I’d been indicating for at least 20 seconds…which we all know is ages when sat in a traffic queue and I know he’d seen it because we’d got eye contact in the mirror.<br />
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Yesterday, in the <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/road-rage-to-the-extreme-man-follows-driver-home-police-say-20120903-258yx.html" target="_blank">news was a story about a young woman being followed home</a> before the attacking driver ran over her Dad and threatened them with a knife, all because she merged in front of him.<br />
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Are we losing all perspective of what’s a good thing and what’s a bad thing?<br />
<br />
An <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/celebrity/kayak-commander-crowe-not-so-masterful-20120903-259su.html" target="_blank">actor gets saved while out kayaking</a> – he gets blasted for pulling a publicity stunt, maybe he really was lost and was genuinely thankful for the save. While not really news, kinda of feel good story that should be taken for what it is, not vilified.<br />
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A <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/celebrity/dawson-i-will-recover-20120901-257p3.html" target="_blank">woman gets abused so badly online she makes an attempt on her own life</a> after being repeatedly told to ‘go kill herself’ – she gets blasted for bringing it upon herself, she should have just turned off and heeded the old adage of stick and stones. No, she should be able to conduct her life and work without being abused by hidden cowards with anger issues.<br />
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A woman tries to merge on a busy highway, a requirement of getting from A to B in a motor vehicle and experienced countless times a day by hundreds of thousands of drivers around the world - she gets followed home and threatened with a knife<br />
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I get abused for changing lanes while indicating and called an ‘attention seeking whore’ for looking for my dog.<br />
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I do believe the world really has gone crazy.<br />
<br />
Can we all just calm down and look at our behaviour towards others. We all have a life to lead. For the most part we try to do so without interfering too much in each others lives. We’re all busy, your time is worth no less than mine. We all just want to live peacefully. In the end it all comes back to what <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Bernard_Shaw" target="_blank">George Bernard Shaw</a> said in 1903:<br />
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<em>'Do not do unto others as you would that they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same.' </em> Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-32537455234005415242012-08-30T12:22:00.000+10:002012-12-31T22:28:00.029+11:00On the Up?Things continue to go from bad to worse on the work front. <br />
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Personally though, things have remained fairly static with a very slight elevation.<br />
<br />
A week ago I got massive laughs during a stand-up set, which I pretty much winged. While much of the material had bee written before I tried loads of new stuff and it worked. Always a good thing. My next gig is at 8pm on 7th September at the Comedy Court on George Street, Sydney, in case you’re interested.<br />
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The last weekend was fun and after lots of fun in the garden I feel like I actually want to sort sh*t out on the home front. It’s been a while since I actually wanted to do anything that related to keeping my environment clean and tidy, but despite being exhausted when I get home from my work day, I do a little something that may, in the long run contribute to a cleaner home space.<br />
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My veggie patch has started to produce food. Yay! For the next six months I’ll be able to go into the garden and pluck sustenance from the ground. I’m sorry, but there really is no better feeling than eating freshly picked produce. For the last three days I’ve been able to use my home grown greens in my dinner and also eggs laid by the Pink Ladies in omelettes, scrambled and poached. <br />
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With the better weather comes more vitamin D which in turn makes you feel better generally, so hopefully, there will be less depression and more happiness in my future.<br />
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Now please enjoy this picture of my dinner from last night. Everything is from the garden except the Holumi cheese (and the tiny bit of fresh ground pepper) :-)<br />
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<br />Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-27079414192642413172012-08-21T14:54:00.002+10:002012-12-31T22:28:16.793+11:00DownWhile my small creamy coloured dog has been missing I have found the big black one barking at the back door and paws on the window sill on many occasions. My attempts to scare him away have only succeeded in getting him out of the garden and my near vicinity.<br />
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This morning he got in and landed on the bed with a thud. Pinning me down.<br />
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I’m not sure how he got in, but I think the cracks have expanded over the last few weeks while I have been wrestling with a couple of issues. These cracks have clearly been ignored by me as I’ve focused on trying to think my way through my problems.<br />
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While in the grander scheme of things that effect the wider world, my problems are meaningless and insignificant, but one thing I’ve learned, when you’re dealing with things alone, they can often become all consuming to the exclusion of all others. <br />
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I find myself trying to claw my way through financial worries, still. My attempts to bring it all to a speedier conclusion seem to be ticking along, but a little support would be nice.<br />
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My work situation is interesting to say the least and the least said the better.<br />
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Which bring me to the overarching issue: companionship. As much as I love my fur family I find it really hard to ask them to help out about the place. When I have to change a light bulb, if I was to fall off the step ladder and broke my neck, they would be pretty useless at calling the emergency services. They are crap at helping move logs in and even worse at doing any kind of housework.<br />
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I discovered this when I had a kidney stone and spent several days in hospital alone until someone came to visit. The chicken shed I’ve had for nearly a year that has been partially erected (yes, kiddies I said erected), the fact that I still haven’t seen Batman 3 because I have no one to go with. Actually I haven’t been to the movies in months and I love the movies. What’s the point of going if you come out with that urge to discuss but turn to empty air?<br />
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People laugh at me when I say I’m learning the recorder…I do that so I’m not sitting at home alone, it gives me a focus.<br />
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When people criticise my choice to be a Tupperware Lady, I do that because a, I love the product and genuinely believe it’s great but b, so I can get out of the house, meet people and as an added bonus make a little cash. I’ve been told ‘You’re better than that’ but has it every occurred to people that I do actually enjoy it and would rather not wait tables or pull pints in shift work.<br />
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When people ask why I drive to Canberra to perform 10 minutes of stand-up comedy, it’s because no one comes to see me in Sydney and people actually do when I go to Canberra. The weird thing is, people have actually been to see me multiple times in Canberra…they even get to see my new material.<br />
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When people say I should only photograph things that pay…that’s nice if I never actually wanted to photograph anything and I didn’t do it to get out of the house.<br />
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When people say to me I should stop looking for my missing dog. When the dreams of vivisection, abuse and overfeeding stop and I know what happened to her, I’ll stop looking. A need to know her fate drives me to do the things I do, with little or no physical or emotional support. Would you give up looking for your loved one if they went missing, and NO, it’s no different because she isn’t ‘ just a dog’.<br />
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I do things that get me out of the house and interacting with human beings. As much as I hate the general public it sometimes feels better to be alone in company than alone, alone.<br />
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I shall have three days of companionship this weekend then it will be over for another undisclosed period of time. Time to move on I think, the hope that it will lead to more has hit a point in reality that I don’t like, but I need to start living my life with a view to the future. Cold turkey. Rip the band-aid off and visit the doctor for more brain numbing drugs. While I should be looking forward to this brief time of fun, laughter and adventure, I find myself half dreading it because I know it will be over before it’s even begun.<br />
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A long term future with some genuine human companionship would be a rather pleasant thing I feel. I do still feel.<br />
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fingerfriend hugs by FCImages</div>
Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-32685200573023071212012-08-17T15:54:00.003+10:002012-12-31T22:28:43.919+11:00Karma?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ve grown up hearing the names Myra Hindley and Ian Brady. Their images are instantly recognizable to me, just as I could tell you who Pope John Paul II, Clint Eastwood and James Cagney are.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They are famous, or should I say infamous, murderers and rapists from 1960s England. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like all people of infamy they have been glamourised by some, but for the most part vilified as they rightly deserve. Between them they sexual assaulted and tortured five children (that they admitted and where convicted of, but unofficial numbers are higher) between July 1963 and October 1965. They were convicted in 1966. Before I was even born, but their names often popped up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the mid 80s they gained a tremendous amount of press when they returned to scene of their crime to find the graves of their victim, but could only find one.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 1995, Hindley was in the news again, but this time for her mugshot being used as the basis for a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myra_(painting)" target="_blank">portrait</a> painted by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marcus_Harvey" target="_blank">Marcus Harvey</a> using children sized hand prints. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hindley died at the age of 60 in 2002 in jail.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I saw the name Ian Brady in the <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/world/moors-murderer-reveals-location-of-body-20120817-24d0r.html" target="_blank">paper</a> and though, surely he’s dead now, but apparently not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I read this <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/world/moors-murderer-reveals-location-of-body-20120817-24d0r.html" target="_blank">story</a> and felt hope for the family of Keith Bennett.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was the last line of the story was what caught my eye and brought out a very rare, extreme, non-humane reaction from me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">‘The tribunal was to consider Brady's application to be transferred to a Scottish prison and be allowed to die. He has been tube-fed since refusing food 12 years ago.’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My immediate reaction to this was ‘Let the f*cker suffer!’</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Then I reconsidered. At 72, is it right that he be allowed to die or should he be forced to continue to suffer? Does that make his captors as bad as he?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I know say, let him die and maybe, just maybe his name will cease to reoccur in our lives to remind us of the evil he and his girlfriend perpetrated forty odd years ago.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> <span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 9pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-AU;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">NOTE: the image was taken form here and the copyright belongs to them, not me. </span></span>Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19270235.post-13257250873257768162012-08-09T12:50:00.000+10:002012-12-31T22:28:58.793+11:00Social MediaI love social media. I would happily stand up in a Social Media Support group and say, ‘My name is Jodie and I am a Social Media-aholic’.<br />
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I have a Facebook and a Twitter account. I’m also on Instagram. I have a blog, but you know about that because you’re reading it. I’m resisting Flicka and Pinterest, just because I think I have enough.<br />
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I have a few pages and both my dogs have their own Facebook accounts, but I have to say they post more than me.<br />
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It’s not just the sharing of the details of my life in the vein hope that someone else actually gives a damn about what I’m up too; it about when I die, alone in my house, and have my face eaten by the cats that someone might notice my lack of posts and therefore come looking for me, that I like, it's other random posts from strangers that appear on my wall.<br />
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Today…I saw a post from such a random to pop starlet Nicki Minaj and it appeared on my wall because one of my friends had seen fit to add her voice to the 59,000 other comments.<br />
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It was a somewhat vitriolic post that included the phases ‘it makes me want to punch my cat’, ‘it has been proven that you can catch Aids from watching her music videos’ and ‘it’s (her music) cancerous to the earth’. Actually, if you look at the message as a whole there is some rather amusing imagery conquered up. It is still cruel and unnecessary. <br />
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If you don’t like her music, change channel and stop buying it from iTunes.<br />
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The starting message itself is interesting but some of the comments are hilarious, if not cruel in themselves!<br />
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Some comments were full of admiration for the original post and they agree with the sentiment (typed as they appear on the posting*):<br />
‘Dude that kid gor balls…but no brains’ Jordan S-P<br />
‘I think I love you, sir’ Naomi H.<br />
‘Fu*k that b*tch nicki keep doing u boo…’ Ashley A.<br />
There was more to that last one, but it became so unintelligible I couldn’t tell if it was supportive or abusive.<br />
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The religious and lifestyle ones always make me smile<br />
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‘That’s not very Christian’ Jesse G<br />
‘(posters name), if you were Greek, you’d be Zeus.’ Jake M<br />
‘Lolsomeone is pi*sed they don’t make the money she makes :)’ Billy S.<br />
‘Ur gay’ Joe O.<br />
‘2 words…STOP HATING’ Dsire B<br />
‘If u think shes hurt by this u dimb as hell’ Tatiana FW. Do I hear the pot calling the kettle names?<br />
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Invariably though someone brings up the age old debate that haunts all forms of social media, and with good reason. Most people fire of comments and posts without a thought to the content and how it will appear. We’re all guilty of it, some more so than others. I know I’m not perfect, but at least I put a little effort in.<br />
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In this case I only saw Milo S’s attempt to set the world straight on the matter, but you just know there would have been others amongst the fifty nine thousand other comments. ‘Wow, most of these comments either have bad spelling or improper grammar. What a world where people can’t spell, at all.’ <br />
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In some way I wish I was a researcher. I’d love to examine the way people are affected by social media. What would happen if it was to go away over night? What would happen to those that have grown up knowing no other way to communicate.<br />
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The days before mobile telephones when there was one telephone in the house and your dad had put a lock on it. When you made plans and stuck to them because there was no way to punk out at the last minute. When you physically had to invite everyone you wanted to come to your party because there was no ‘wall event’ capability.<br />
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‘Didn’t you get my wall invite?’<br />
‘No, I haven’t looked at Facebook for weeks’<br />
Sound familiar?<br />
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Most of all though how would they cope not being able to hurl abuse anonymously at all and sundry just because they felt like it and it was free?<br />
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Would they sit down with a pen and paper and write out the words ‘I don’t come to you respectfully as I don’t think you even deserve to be treated with sincerity’ (another line from the NM post means) and other nasty, down right mean spirited comments, fold it neatly, pop it into an envelope, put a stamp on it and place it into a letter box, after they had spent an age finding an address to send it too? Most likey the ‘Fan Club’.<br />
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I really don’t think they would bother.<br />
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I love social media. I really do. It’s helping me spread the word about my missing dog. It’s helping get word out about my business. It helps me stay in touch with family and friends who live overseas and far away places. It has even introduced me to many people I may not have otherwise come across.<br />
In the words of Uncle Ben from Spiderman (2002) ‘With great power comes great responsibility’.<br />
Please think before you press send.<br />
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* Swear words did not have * in them, they appeared in full in the original comments, but I'm a senstive soul that likes to have some modicum of manners :-)<br />
Picture of telephone lock from <a href="http://public.beuth-hochschule.de/~hamann/telefon/tel-lock.html" target="_blank">here </a>Fran Carletonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04210056078337179744noreply@blogger.com2