Archive for the ‘Rambles’ Category

I bought a scanner.

Saturday, July 31st, 2004

I couldn’t help it, I was really really missing having a scanner. Really. I was. Missing it. OK, so I did actually technically have a scanner, but it a) wasn’t a very good scanner and b) caused all kinds of horrible system trouble with it’s stinky little festering driver. To celebrate my new scanner (which takes 5 seconds to scan a photo, instead of the 3 minutes the old one took), here is a scan of a picture of an ant holding an intergrated circuit.

There’s something about that photo that I just really love, and as soon as I saw it I had to have it. It was in a book I was withdrawing at work, so I chopped it out. Yes, ladies and gents, library staff get to hack into library books… ok, just the withdrawn ones but anyway. The book itself was from 1993 and therefore no longer exactly accurate in it’s computer information. Adorable, but not accurate. Not quite as adorable as the one I bought written in 1979 when “A personal computer is a serious investment starting at around $7,000, but is well worth it”. Makes me look at my Apple IIe and wonder how much they paid for it new. I got it second hand for $4.

Mum and I were talking today about how much kids can actually remember (discussion brought on by an expensive and amazing 1st birthday party for a child I know of, costing his mum around $1,500) so I was trying to think of things I remember from before the age of 5. Here are some of them:
- My earliest memory is of sitting in my pusher and picking the skin off my index finger, causing a sudden rush of blood. Mum parked the pusher next to the chemist with the green tiles and ran in to get bandaids.
- I remember visiting the goat farm with the kinder group. The goat farm was just down the road from me, but I’d forgotten to tell mum I needed to wear gumboots, and instead was wearing my red leather shoes which I tried to keep clean.
- I remember going apple picking, again with the kinder group, and thinking Mum and Albe were leaving me behind when they drove off.
- I remember playing with toy cars with Albe in the front garden of Grandma’s big old house in Kew. We dug tunnels in the soft soil under the tree.
- I can remember the pile of sand that was delivered just before the pool went in, and how Kirsty, Albe and I made roads and tunnels in it. It was there for ages, then it was spread out as a pool base and I remember being sad, because it seemed more fun to keep it for the cars.
- I remember making pictures with little bits of plastic at kinder, and seeing all the pictures lined up along the rafters.
- i remember Mum being Santa in the kinder christmas play

Apparently, that’s quite a good writing excercise, just making lists like that. So there you go, i did do something productive today. Now I’m going to go and either read a book or redo the graphics for frog. Probably read.

Well now, what do you know.

Wednesday, May 19th, 2004

At what point did the people I know online stop being “internet friends” and just become friends? I remember back in my BBS days (ahhh, technology nostalgia) everyone was clearly defined. These are my friends. These are my BBS friends. It was a different kind of friendship even, based more on talking about software than anything else.

Then I moved on to chat rooms on the big ol’ internet. This was still within some kind of limits and when I talked about the people I knew there it was still “oh, my internet friend Rantzay said…”. Then, TSO happened.

I don’t know if it’s the taking on of human form or simply more time spent with these people, but somewhere along the line I stopped saying things like “Oh, Lauren, my internet friend, said… ” and started saying “Oh, my friend Lauren was talking about…”. When I first realised I was doing this I thought “my word, that’s odd” but now it’s just - now it’s just people I know, and care about that happen to live a long way away.

I’m thinking about this because last night a friend of mine went into freefall and a group of us all got together to help catch her. This is not so unusual. Friend in crisis, we all went over to her house and offered our love and support. Except in this case, the house doesn’t actually exist in any 3D form, and the those of us that were there were in reality scattered over America and, in my case obviously Australia. And we all got together and sat around in her house and did anything and everything we could to help her.

There are limitations. There are times, when I speak to my friends all over the world, that people are in pain and I can’t do what I naturally want to do and sit with them and hug them and offer them that kind of face to face support, but I don’t feel any of the relationships are weaker because of this.

So, to my friends who I happened to meet online and who have become my Real Life friends - thanks. :)

Trying.

Tuesday, April 27th, 2004

I’m different, I don’t care who knows it, something about me is just not the same, I’m different, that’s how it goes, I’m not going to play your goddam game, I’ve got a different way of talking, got a different kind of smile, got a different way of walking….

Ok, i stopped that coz the next line is “Drives the women kind of wild” which doesn’t quite fit, although the “When I look in the mirror, I like the man” is getting more true every day, annoyingly.

Anyway, it struck me tonight as I leapt to defend kangaroos (not from Jonah, surprisingly…) that for a person without a single shred of courage in her convictions, I picked some good ones. Animal rights, the environment and so forth. Just the ones people really like to sit down and have a go at. In these times, I either verbally fold (ie, end up saying “yeah yeah OK, you’re right” without meaning it) or I walk away. It’s a flaw. If you have an opinion you should be able to hold it.

Also, if you were wondering, the idea of leaving books sitting around for people to pick up is Not Normal. Also, talking to naked people online (apparently everyone online is naked. This is alarming news, I’ve been fully dressed all this time, no one told me) is Not Normal. I’m sorry, they are going to have to come up with something better than Not Normal.

I was never a Goth, Hippy, Surfie.. I was never in a group or a culture, I was just me. Never a cool girl (I called them “heathers” after the Winona Ryder movie), probably a dag always but eh. At school my defining identity was Fat Chick. This was followed by Drama Chick (from the Drama course, not from.. you know… drama). These blended well “You’re the Fat Drama Chick, aren’t you?” “Yes, yes I am”. Any claim to fame is something. Anyway, I’m still not anything and yet I’m still not able to sit comfortably in my ideals and opinions. Perhaps I’m due a rethink, but then again, if I wait on it, it may sort itself out.

Although, thinking it over right now, I think i’m probably the punchline. I’m waiting on the joke.

Patchy, scratchy. Mainly patchy

Tuesday, February 3rd, 2004

Rambling entry today, nothing new there I guess. I’ll start with the important ponder of the day which is what can one do when…

Story is simple. Small child of about 2 years playing with the lever on our watercooler created a puddle at the base of the cooler (this happens at least once a week, the cooler is right near the Children’s Area and most small kids like to play with levers and switches). I wandered up and got him to stop (in a nice way, I should point out) and went for paper towels. While I was kneeling on the floor mopping up as much of the water as I could the little boy stood watching me and his father came over and said “Did he do that?” I said “Yup, but not to worry, no harm done”. The father then grabbed the boy by the arm and dragged him over to his pusher while hissing (and i do mean hissing) “You’re an evil boy, an evil evil boy!”. I commented on this to Jackie, saying it was a bit harsh. Jackie pointed out that the child had a black eye, which I honestly hadn’t noticed. This is where we get stuck, because you don’t want to believe the worst about people and kids get bumped and bruised a lot anyway (Tracey’s little boy currently sports a large bruise from falling and bumping his head), but the way the father handled a minor mishap makes me wonder. Still, even with proof or stronger grounds to believe there is beating going on, there’s not a lot we can do as Library Staff. This was all looked into a couple of years ago when we realised the woman spending our entire open time on the word processors (10am - 8:30pm) was doing so without feeding her toddler. More complicated than that, but too depressing to go into really. You never do want to believe the worst.

Changes still coming from the new CEO who seems determined to make sure that the services we offer that people actually use and/or enjoy are removed, leaving us offering a bare bones service. Yes, OK, we’re a library and therefore the loaning of books and provision of information is our main objective. Blah blah management speak. Apart fromt he removal of the magazine swap box (which is still sending shockwaves through the community and that is only a slight inflation of the truth) we are to stop booksale as of next week. Now, the thing about booksale is that people really like it. The other thing about booksale is it means that books we no longer need are recycled in a practical way while raising funds for the library. We don’t make a huge fortune off the booksale - single items sell for between 20 and 50 cents and we’re selling plastic bags full of books for $3 each - but every little bit helps. Also, considering a lot of what we withdraw are items that we bought many copies of because of long waiting lists (Harry Potter for example) and can now weed down to a few copies, it’s a crying shame to dump them. Apparently we can still have “one off” or special sales from time to time, but the ongoing table is to be discontinued. This means that on Monday morning I have to pack it all up and throw a lot of it out, unless I bag it up and go around the opshops which I might do.

I have my annual review tomorrow morning, which I am about as prepared for as I usually am (which is Not At All Prepared, Oh Shit). Chances I’ll actually be fired are slim, but you never know :P

Nurrrrgh

Monday, January 19th, 2004

System upgrade attempt #2 today. The company who designed the software did it this time, so in theory it was all quite smooth but once the upgrade was done at HQ, the PCs in branch needed to be updated. Yvette phoned at 12:40pm to say “go ahead and load the software”. At 4:40pm the first download finished and we were able to get one PC up. Limping, but up. Most of the other PCs kept crashing and it was all very messy with 8 branches trying to download huge files at the same time. We left the night shift with boxes of returns and a full branch run so good luck to them.

Human cloning. You may have seen the report, so here’s my 2 cents. OMG that’s scary! If you missed it, some scientist claims he has implanted an embryo into a woman that contains only the father’s DNA. He cleared the cell or something (science not my strong point). While this claim has been met with lack of belief from the scientific community, the idea is still horrible. Apart from the dodgy ethics, the age thing bothers me. With Dolly the sheep, she was genetically the same age as the sheep she was cloned from. This is why she died at such a young age and suffered from arthritis etc so young. To clone a human while this “hurdle” still exists is akin to deliberatly changing an embryo that will eventually be a child with, for example, cystic fibrosis. It’s creating a person destined to die young.

Medical research is one thing. I’m not opposed to the idea of using unwanted embryos from IVF for research because it will save lives. Creating a human, making a person for scientfic study is one of the coldest things I have ever heard. And we claim to be civilised. Terrifying.

I’ll whack the disclaimer here that I really don’t know what I’m on about and these opinions are formed with the slightest knowledge of the subject. As per usual :D

I can’t. You try.

Monday, September 22nd, 2003

Today a lady called me darling. In context “Could you do me a favour darling and check my card for overdues?”. Normally this would be nothing more than a request to check a card and would not be filed away in my brain at all, but the use of the word “darling” reminded me of the time a friend and I were shopping for CDs and the girl at the counter called me “darl” (a shortened version of darling, for those who don’t know). I didn’t even notice at the time and it was not until we were on the street and my friend began to fume about the use of the word that I realised what had been said. According to this friend, it is wrong to call a stranger any of the following - sweetie, darl, darling, love, honey, hun and any other terms of similar nature. I disagree, to a point.

One example of my limited disagreement: One of our regular borrowers is a lovely old gentleman and once I have scanned his books he often calls me a good girl. Another of our regulars is a creepy creepy man who also calls me a good girl. From the first, it is a compliment. From the second it’s just creepy (over use of the word creepy, I apologise).

I think any expression like that should be taken in the manner it is given. It’s the same with calling someone a bitch. You mean it in a certain way, sometimes jokingly and sometimes in a rabid, snarling way.

I am finding the term “hun” has crept into my real life usage as well as my online usage. Of course, I meant it as a version of “honey” (and not in the maurading army sense). Of all the expressions used online (in TSO, of course) it is easily the most common in my everyday speech. It seems to be replacing “mate” which I used to use a lot. This bit is just waffle though, isn’t it?

I don’t mind being called sweetie, hun, darl, bitch, troll, cow… depending on who’s doing the calling, or how it was meant.

This is kind of mathy…

Friday, September 19th, 2003

OK, so here it is: The Commonwealth Bank is going to “improve customer service” by sacking 3,700 people over the next three years - this amounts to 10% of the workforce. I like this bit:
[CEO] Mr Murray said meeting customer needs will be the focal point for everything the bank does. “Our customers tell us they need a better, faster and more responsive service,” he said. .
OK, now to take my own workplace as an example. We can’t cut 10% of the full time staff (for the branch) because 10% of 6 means someone needs to die, but let’s say we drop one staff member. It’s a harder day for everyone if someone is off for some reason and isn’t replaced. It’s harder to keep the service side of things covered. Apparently, in the case of the bank, this is streamlining. I mean I’m kinda flummoxed on this one to be honest. I would have thought that more staff (maybe with upgraded training) would mean better service. Am I being horribly simplistic?

Part of the bank overhaul is resprauncing the branches, which would be nice I guess if I ever went into a branch which I don’t because banks hate it when you actually turn up and want to talk to a real person. Perhaps they could put some photos of plants or something on the website and little carpet swatches on the ATMs.

Apparently, most of the jobs to go are “behind the scenes”. I think this might be ‘coz someone at HQ (where they light their cigars with $100 notes - not a great idea since they went from paper to plastic, but you get the idea) must have finally realised that having enough staff to have 2 windows open during peak times isn’t exactly over-spending on the staff front.

And we may never meet again

Monday, August 4th, 2003

DAAS

OK, so it’s kind of worrying to have to admit that one of the high lights of the week, if not the month or year, is three guys singing “Throw Your Arms Around Me”, but if those three guys are the Doug Anthony All Stars, then you just have to admit. I’ve been utterly besotted with DAAS since I was a mere scrap of a girl peering at them on a teeny black and white TV. This was back when The Big Gig was on, late 80’s. I was not, technically, allowed to stay up and watch it, but I had the TV in my room so I never missed it. Did I understand it? Probably not even half, but can still remember Anthony Morgan talking about hair wraps and Adelaide, the kidnapping of Pate Biscuit’s sidekick bongo, Candida the loopy fitness woman, the airhostesses and, more than anything, the mass hysteria and chanting of “All Stars! All Stars!” when it was time for the Dougs to come on. I remember them singing “Heard it on the Grapevine” which was amazing. Paul McDermott has made “Throw Your Arms Around Me” his own, but I have never heard it better than with Tim and Rich there. I got quite emotional.

Yeah, OK. It was another “not much happened” day…

It’s a god-awful small affair

Sunday, August 3rd, 2003

It’s time I admitted that this Bowie thing is not fandom. It’s unhealthy. Plus, it’s expensive. LOL. Just bought a couple of Bowie DVDs and am soon to start scouting round to see if anyone wants to come see him in Sydney (I think I’ve got Alicia set up for the Melbourne show). So, ladies and gents, settle in as I tell you how this Bowie thing happened (and not, I should point out, because while trawling through the archives today to find what I’d said in an old post, I noticed my posts are getting kinda short these days).

OK, rewind to the late 1980s and place yourself in the loungeroom at Debbie’s house (you may want to knock first, and also remember that she doesn’t live there anymore). I can’t remember how old we were, but I guess about grade 5 or 6 (11 or 12) and Labyrinth was the movie to be watching, so we did dozens upon dozens of times. Then we moved on. Personally, I moved on to Rocky Horror. I can’t remember what Deb moved onto, but knowing her mum it probably wasn’t Rocky Horror. We still watched Labyrinth from time to time, but not as often as before. So I was kinda aware of Bowie, but not really if you get my drift. Now fast forward to the mid 90s - I dare say around 94/95 - smack between them actually since it was New Years Eve when one of the tv stations ran Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars which I couldn’t switch off. I remember very clearly sitting on the floor of my room staring at the TV like the meaning of life was being transmitted or something. That’s one of the DVDs I just bought actually. Yay for that. So, was that the moment when I dashed out and bought all the CDs? Nope. I did pick up a couple of LPs from the op-shop a few weeks later, but that’s about it. Oh come on, you didn’t think this was going to be interesting did you?

See, you gotta understand that I was - and still am - a Beatles girl. As far as I was concerned, that was pretty much all there was to music. That’s not to say I didn’t listen to other music - U2, Counting Crows (yeah yeah JP, they’re so derivative), Frente and so forth. Mainly though, it was all Beatles all the time. There was also a link to someone that kept me with the Beatles and very reluctant to move on to other things. Well, I saw it as moving on. It wasn’t, in the end. Where was I? Oh yup. Anyway, I heard Rock and Roll Suicide on the radio and was literally stunned so I bought The Best of Bowie 1969/1974 and that was pretty much it, I was hooked. Slower than that, tho. I listened to that one for about 2 solid years before starting to pick up the other albums. I still don’t have them all.

I don’t know what it is, really. I know that if I have an album on while I’m doing something (at this moment I’m listening to Hunky Dory) I quite often have to stop and listen rather than just let it run in the background. Something catches me, a quality of voice, a pattern of lyric. That’s not to say the man is perfect - I’m not much fond of Hours for example but Heathen ripped my heart out. Rock and Roll Suicide is a damned good example of a song I stop for.

A while back I was doing one of those 20 questions things that are handy for journals if you haven’t much to say at the moment. I didn’t end up posting it, but there was a question: If you could be anything, what would you be? to which I replied “A Bowie love song”.

Speaking of not posting, I’m nearly not posting this, but it’s taken ages so you can all shut up and enjoy it. Thanks.

Wed-Nes-Day.

Wednesday, July 2nd, 2003

Today a memory popped into my head that made me groan and laugh at the same time. You see, in 2000 i spent 9 months working in a supermarket. My shift was 12pm-9pm most days, so i never got the real hardcore insane people the midnight to 9am people copped, but there were a couple and one in particular could send me and any other checkout girl scurrying for safety.

The memory arrived while I was wondering if the public ever notices how filthy library books are. Some of them are gritty for gods’ sake. Anyway, there was a man who used to shop where I worked (I won’t name the company ‘coz they aren’t paying me for advertising) who would insist that the person scanning their stuff put a plastic bag over each hand before touching anything. So you’d be trying to pick up stuff with your hands covered in slippery plastic which was unfun in itself, but worst of all was trying to open a new bag on the rack. Zero grip. I spent what felt like eons fumbling with a new bag while trying not to tear the bags on my hands because if he saw a tear in those bags he’d chuck a massive wobbly. Apparently he did this for cleanliness, because we checkout types were handling stuff all day that was, I admit, less than clean. What really got me about this guy though was that he wouldn’t put his fruit and vegies in plastic bags in the trolley. First point: fruit and vegies are bound to have been handled by others anyway while they seek the perfect tomato and even digging right to the bottom of the heap is no help because the guys stocking that area have grotty hands as it is. Second point: Shopping trolleys are a health hazard. They are honestly festering. They don’t get cleaned, they don’t get wiped down. If somone spills food in them only the big bits get scraped out. In fact, nothing the man ever bought was untouched. Shelves don’t get stacked by magic, they get stacked by people who have been stacking all day and therefore have grimy hands. I wanted to tell the bloke all this, but he also discouraged small talk and being the kind of person who can’t do small talk with perfect strangers, I was not about to make a point on that one.

Another odd one was the bloke who would say “I will place my items in the order i wish them to be packed. I will place them one bag worth at a time. You will not pack extra items in bag and you will not take items from further up the belt. You will scan them and pack them in the order in which I place them, do you understand?”. Yeah, whatever. “I don’t much care about this job or your happiness, do you understand?”

Man, I hated working there!

That ain’t no lady…

Friday, March 21st, 2003

One of the more disconcerting things about working at the library is that all of a sudden I am “The Lady”. No just “A Lady” but “THE Lady” and I’ll thank you to remember it. The term is generally used by mothers talking to their kids: “GIve the card to the lady” “Ask the lady” “The lady is nearly finished.”
It’s only ever annoying when they say “If you don’t behave, the lady will be cross”. Well, yeah, the lady is kinda cross (but it’s more about political matters than another 5 year throwing a flaming wobbly when not allowed a freddo frog) but the lady would also appreciate it if you could pull your finger out and tick your own child off from time to time, thanks. All the staff get this, and conversations reveal we all find it annoying that we’re expected to be the bad guy all the time. You think your child is behaving badly, tell them. Tick them off, whatever, don’t expect staff in libraries, supermarkets, cafes whatever to be passive parents.
But! If we do tick a kiddie off (usually a kiddie who has been dumped in the kiddie area while Mummy or Daddy wanders off for a while) the parents usually get incredibly snotty, even if it’s a safety thing (our security gates look very much like climbing frames and a lot of kids, understandably, can’t resist. However, the gates tend to lean alarmingly. This is just one example, there are others). It’s a “How DARE you tell my child he/she is in the wrong!” while if we did let them go ahead and they did fall it would be “How COULD you allow my child to be in such a dangerous situation!”
And! Some unattended children wander out the doors. There’s been a couple of kids I’ve ended up carrying about, looking for a parent or responsible looking person. The looks you get and “Why have YOU got MY child?”. So you say “Sorry, but YOUR child was running towards the road” and get snubbed totally.

On to other things. Please go to Mike Moore’s Website and read his letter to Dubya.

In a week exactly I shall be in Syndey, hopefully not doing anything too taxing.