HorizonPurple.com

No, I’m going somewhere with this. Trust me. OK, I have several Bowie photos stuck to the wall over my desk at work, one of which is a shot of him underweight and drugged as Ziggy Stardust. In this particular shot he is shirtless and the photo is a chest and shoulders. My desk faces the workroom door and as I came in from a cigarette at lunchtime today I noticed someone had cut a shirt out of blue paper and stuck it to the photo. There was also a speech bubble reading “Blue is so my colour!”. I started to laugh so hard Kirsty was alarmed (she often is when I do that) and I pointed it out. She also thought it hiliarious. I wrote a little note along the lines of “Tampering with Bowie is blasphemy!” and peeled the shirt off to use the blutac again. Fresh laughter as the removal of the shirt revealed two bright pink squares covering his nipples (see, I was going somewhere with this). The handwriting on the bubble gave it away as Jackie. I took it out to her and she fell apart, having forgotten she’d even done it. It was one of those “Eye contact will be lethal” things, and we were useless for a few minutes. “That’s for the stapler” she finally said (I may have put her stapler on top of the cupboard for 6 weeks or so, can’t recall exactly… ahem).

Later I went back to see the shirt in place again, I peeled it off again and Jacks said “Oh come on, we don’t want to look at skinny Bowie and his nipples”. I stuck it back on, but first I cut holes to show the nipples. Jackie fell about and covered him up again with the pink squares. So, in revenge for that, I enlarged the chest on the copier and put it in her drawer. Tomorrow the battle continues…

Today was basically weird, despite concentrated attention on semi naked Bowie. One girl came in and said all in one breath “I’m a member of this lie-berry and I’m at the TAFE over the road and I have a MAJOR assignment due today and all the printers at the TAFE had KERashed and we can’t print anything and I know you need, like, a card or something to use the printer here and I have my lie-berry card but I don’t know if I can use that can I? So I guess there’s another kind of card, for the printer, and can I, like, get an application form or something for that?”. At which point I sold her a $2.20 card and told ehr I didn’t need her life story (OK, so I just sold her a card).

Today was also the day we introduced a new, strict overdues policy where books later than 40 days past due are being invoiced and fines older than 40 days are blocking cards. Thankfully, none of the reports they had to run to do this worked…

Also, the IT manager resigned last week. Apparently he offered to give 2 weeks notice (his resignation was requested by the CEO as far as I can gather) and then come back for a week in 6 weeks to hand over the position to a new person. CEO told him he could be out by the end of this week, thanks. Ouch. I’m a bit more shocked than I thought I would be, Tony’s not a bad bloke. Anyway, in the midst of all this shock came laughter at the string of e-mails flying around the BITS people. It ran a bit like this:
Karen: Tony is leaving, should we get him a gift and since the next meeting is at this branch, do lunch?
Karen: I’ll collect money for a gift and do we want to do lunch or morning tea?
Natasha: I’ll put in some money, how much?
Jennet: I thought the meeting was at that branch, not this one.
Karen: It was moved. Shall I book for morning tea?
Nadia: I’m happy to buy a gift, send the money to me
Tony: Next and last meeting at HQ for morning tea and farewells.
Karen: So since the meeting is at my branch, how many shall I book for? Send money please.
Crystal: I’m confused, who are we sending the money to?

Ah yes, the BITS staff… dynamos one and all.

A while back I bought a new printer because my old printer was refusing to print in any colour other than blue. Or maybe it was yellow. Either way. It was a very wizz bang sort of a printer with great photoquality prints blah blah. First issue I had was the newness of the model meant there wasn’t a shonky ink refill available - HP shells out full price for brand name ink with gritted teeth. Still, says HP, at least I can be sure the prints will be of excellent quality. (It’s not a HP printer, by the way. I learned my lesson with my HP scanner… a whole other Hardware Nightmare story).

Print quality, no matter how I played with the settings, was never brilliant but since I don’t often print photos I wasn’t too fussed - even through the printer did a better job on plain paper than photo paper GRR. Today I found a pack of 4 x 6 photo paper I bought a while ago and hadn’t used. “OK,” I thought to myself, “Self, I’m going to print some photos! Yay! Gosh, how exciting” (Yes, my internal monologue is very 1930s British Movie, you have a problem with that?). A quick trawl of my hard drive came up with a photo of one of my bestest TSO Friends Buttercup. I set the image resolution for quality, cropped the image for pleasingness to the eye and changed all the other relevent settings for top quality photo printing. First print was a little grainy like all the prints have been. Hmm. Faffed some more settings, jiggled the image a little, printed it again and it was better. Not perfect, not as good as it should be, but better. Aha! I thought, AHA!

In order to gain maximum quality goodness and after close inspection of the prints, I ran a nozzle check to see if my nozzles were clogged with… gloop. They were! Aha! Had those cleaned. Also ran a print head alignment and GOSH but those print heads were all wonky, so I sorted that out and loaded a new, glossy bit of paper into the printer. I wandered off while it printed and came back to find….

the WORST quality print it has ever been my misfortune to see. It kind of looks like Buttercup… from a distance of around 400 feet. This is very annoying to me because I know it is possible to get great prints, just not from this piece of crap I own. I won’t name the brand, it was one I swore I’d never buy a couple of years back LMAO

I don’t mean to brag, but I am dynamite at contacting stuff. I don’t know what this stuff is called in other countries, I think it’s called “sticky backed plastic” in the UK, it’s that clear film you cover books and stuff with. Anyway, when I started working at the library my job included processing magazines and this included contacting the one off special edition mags so they’d last longer. With a batch of 50 to 100 of these, you get skilled fast. I can get a magazine covered without bubbles or wrinkles in the blink of an eye. It’s poetry to watch.

I mention this because I did some contacting today at home andit was a nightmare. I’m not sure if it’s the contact i bought (the local newsagency, when asked for clear contact, offered me white. I said “I need to read through it” they said “OK, well, this is white it’s the same”…) which is thin and comes in scrawny little one metre rolls (I’m used to the thick stuff from work, which comes in big fat rolls) or the fact that despite being crafty and having a crafty mother, there doesn’t seem to be a single craft knife in thehouse anymore soI had to use scissors, but it was a nasty time. I was shocked.

Also, a trip to the opshop today ended with me buying the shoes i was born to own. For someone who isn’t exactly girly or feminine I do have that shoe thing. Of course, no matter how many pairs I own, I only wear two on rotation but am trying to remember to wear boots more because i have a lot of boots. These are also boots, they are brand new and have buckles and things. I am very pleased with myself on this. Plus they were $8. Gotta love Opshops.

How many search bars do i need? i have three now, the google one I use and a couple of other “automatic installations” which are proving tricky to remove. I got the new yahoo messenger today, so that accounts for one of them. It’s a funky little IM programme, my avi is drop dead gorgeous, whoot. Lots of new buttons to press, they know how to keep me chirpy.

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.

Yes, ladies and gents, I am besotted. Obessed. Gazing adoringly at my new beloved. OK, so it’s a website - but it’s more than that, it’s a concept I am embracing whole heartedly. BookCrossing is such a perfectly simple and elegant idea. It works thusly: You sign up and register a book. This gets you an ID number for that book which you write in the front cover, along with the URL and a little note about BookCrossing (or you can print off labels). then you go somewhere public and leave the book there. I “released a book into the wild” at work today by leaving it on top of the booksale. You list where you left it and when and, in the ideal situation, the person who finds it then logs on to the site, enters the number and reports it captured. The idea then goes on, when they have finsihed with your book, they leave it… and so on. Of course there are flaws. The book can be taken and disposed of, or the person who finds it may not be webminded, but isn’t it a lovely idea? i know mine has gone, but they’ve not reported it and maybe they won’t, it doesn’t matter. They say they want to turn the world into a library, and as you can imagine, I’m all for that :D

I like bugs. I think they are interesting, beautiful and amazing. I can watch them for hours at a time, captivated by their design. This is, apparently, not the right thing to do. The right thing to do, I’m told, is say “Ew! Bug!” and squish, spray or flick. Possibly all three. A person is not supposed to crawl along watching, or catch and release in order to prevent said bug being … well, sprayed or squished. Spiders I’m less fond of, although they do interest me. There’s something in the way they move that is a little icky for want of a better word. I catch them at work tho, otherwise they get the full force of the Encyclopedia Britannica reigned down upon them. Doesn’t seem fair.

That overly yellowed image is of the kind of ant I took outside today. Apparently they are supposed to be aggressive. Once, I was watching one at home and i leaned in to have a closer look. The little ant cowered like a scared dog. Poor thing.

Also, I like rain. Today was spectacular for rain. Ok, slightly annoying to have rain inside (right next to the 15 minute e-mail PCs, fabulous), but there’s something about looking out on a dark, stormy day… wow :)

First off, and this IS worth mentioning - GOOD hair day! Whoot.

Ok, change of plan ladies, gents and Other. I have decided, upon the advice of Jackie, Barb, Diane and Tracey, to not rent, but to save up a deposit and enter into the Great Australian Dream of a huge morgage. Yay. I’m trying to not let an online home loan calculator saying I can only borrow $15,000 put me off here. Yes, it does mean staying here for a while more, but I think I can save up a decent amount in a shortish amount of time. I am aiming to at least have an application in by November.

Where to begin with Paul Hogan? I could say “I’d quite like to maim Paul Hogan” but the surgeons did that already in the name of plastic surgery (baaaaaaad plastic surgery). The first time I saw his new face was very alarming and I had to take to my bed for a week and survive on tea and chocolate. Oh, the humanity.

There was an advertising campaign here that ran, i think, at the same time as the first one in the US trying to tempt people to come see Australia. The adverts were to encourage people to be nice to tourists and “Say Gidday!”. There was a jingle which I have thankfully forgotten, but I do remember people leaning out of car windows with HUGE fake smiles that looked slighty painful and saying “G’DAY!” with all the passion they could muster. This was sometimes matched with a big, cheesy, thumbs up sign. I think perhaps anyone wandering out of an airport to this kind of behaviour would be wise to turn around and go back.

Anyway, it is mainly due to Paul Hogan (and in no small part Steve Irwin) that i get a certain set of questions over and over again, as well as comments like “Throw another shrimp on the barbie!” or “Fosters, it’s Australian for Beer!”. This second comment I always reply to in the same way by saying “Actually, Australian for Beer is… beer. Try and keep up”. The first comment I tend to respond to with “Crikey mate, bloody good idea. You crack a tinny, I’ll grab an esky and turn on the footy!”. This is usually followed with “heh heh, you’re Australian!”.

I am Australian, and yes, i do see kangaroos on a daily basis BUT I don’t live in the suburbs or city. JP, I know you don’t believe me but I do so too! Nyah nyah! My country is bigger than yours and we have more sunshine. Sorry, where was I? Oh, yes. The idea that kangaroos are just leaping about in the middle of Melbourne is a common one. they’d play merry havoc with the tram system.

I never considered myself to be overly Aussie in how I spoke (or, what with it being TSO, how I typed) until Buttercup said “You know, I never know what you’re talking about”. Damn.

Oh well now, this was a matter of time. Now, instead of switching off the PC, console or TV to go for a walk or whatever, you can just get a Time Ryder and pretend you’re working out. All good. I’ve no idea if it works, but at least your friends and loved ones can point and laugh at your new chair. I wonder how hard it would be to cycle while steering a race car or Mario Brother of your choice.

Not from me even! Wow, I know you’re impressed. Went to the monthly BITS meeting this morning and seriously I have never seen so much anger over so little, every topic had people foaming at the mouth, ranting, screaming and generally behaving in a manner best reserved for politics, the state of the planet and affairs. I’m afraid it was very very funny, especially the dubious tangents (eg, talking about a new hardware system somehow ended up on casuals not being informed of system changes). At one point there was serious fury directed at me because my branch doesn’t use the cordless phone. I mean what a pointless thing to be bothered about.

Hair product is a new deal. When I was a smaller person - in height that is - there was spray, mousse and gel. Now there’s “Product”. Last time I got my hair cut the trendy young thing with the scissors asked me “Now, are you OK for product?”. “Um, yeah” i said because at that stage I didn’t use product. Now I do, in a non-trendy way. While I’m tempted to try the one that makes you look like you’ve just been out on the beach getting all salty and windswept, I am infact using one which calls itself “Anti-Frizz”. This is a perfumy smelling gloop that smooths hair down by simple fac that it’s very much like an oily scalp. In other words, it simulates dirty hair. For $7.99 I can pretend I never washed my hair ever. I’m a moron. :D

It’s always the way - I spent my day today from about 12:30pm till 8:30pm being incredibly tired and headachy and longing for sleep. Now it’s 11:23pm and I’m wide awake. Pfft!

Took the car in to the mechanic today as Dad discovered it wasn’t the water pump but rather the alternator that was causing the horrible noise. Now she’s running like a dream and all is good. She’s not even chugging when she idles - whoo hoo! Mum was horrified when she got in and shut the door at the cloud of dust that swirled in an artisic manner around her and is also not keen on the large and varied collection of cobwebs (after more than a year, the cobweb over the passenger door is now gone - it’s the end of an era).

Elise bear arrived home today to a small and refined celebration (I took her out of the envelope and put her on the PC. Celebration ends).

When I was in high school the school hired a motivational speaker to come out to our school camp at the start of the year 12. The idea was that as we were about to go through a horribly difficult year of exams, tests, marking etc and it was all counting toward our attractivness to universities, we should have some loud man with very white teeth shout at us for an hour. While I can’t claim to have passed year 12 (and therefore my VCE) at first attempt, I’m not sure it was because the guy wasn’t shouty enough - he was VERY shouty.

I’ve suddenly remembered this because I remember one line of advice he gave us which was “Do something difficult every day - you’ll feel like a stronger person for having tried”. Generally I count getting out of bed as my difficult thing for the day, but today it was eating a kiwi fruit while resting my feet on the server and reading journal entries of friends. I feel a stronger person for having tried (and coped with the hardship of constantly losing my spoon).

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

With apologies for the shonky quality there, that’s Alison’s arse as she is thrown from the bronco machine thing. There’s no reason for my putting it here (as I wasn’t there at the time and didn’t take the photo) except that she sent it to me so I thought I’d share because I’m that kind of person.

When I started my car tonight it went Ssssssssscccccccccccccrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeel and kept doing it all the way home, so Dad’s just had a look at it and the waterpump is not happy apparently. I’m taking his car to work tomorrow which I hate ‘coz I’m not the bravest driver anyway and not good at driving Dad’s car at all. Also, he’s just told me that if it rains I need to be way careful as the back tyres are bald. Gosh I’m feeling good about getting to work. Really :/

I wore my striped socks to work today so everyone called me Pippi Longstocking, mentioned Dr Seuss a lot and Rebecca asked if Wally was hiding in my socks (for American readers, for some obscure reason we refer to the constantly missing Waldo as Wally). My mother, upon my arrival home, was horrified. She says I look like I was put together at an opshop (opshop - oxfam shop). In a sense I was, since the skirt is second hand (and I’ve not been able to fit into it since high school, whoot!). Why should you care about my socks? I don’t know, why shoulnd’t you?

Just found that my name is a dot com, for a German plate glass insurance company. I fail to see the link, but there you have it. Very slightly surreal. I mean my real name, obviously, I know horizonpurple is a dot com since I paid for it.

I think you’ve caught me out here since i’ve not a lot to say today. I could whinge about working Sunday with two utter DRIPS but I won’t coz if I do it now I won’t have anything to post on Sunday, will I?

In the meantime, I strongly suggest you check out SparkleJs 26 things entry because she’s been very clever with it indeed - plus Elsie is in one and since her web presence has been sadly diminished due to my utter laziness this might be the only time you see her for a while :)

here goes… “Damn the youth of today”. There, I said it. I am officially old. Someone fetch me a Horlicks and a blanket. OK, reason for this comment is: Yesterday there was a group of teenagers hanging around at Allwood House. Two girls (dressed like slags, so I hear) and three boys. At one stage they were pulling things out of the garden, so Rod (caretaker for the house) wandered over and told them to stop. This got him a mouthful of abuse which didn’t really bother him. Today Mum arrived at allwood to find broken glass all over the seats in the conversation pit (it’s like a sunken gazebo) and a broken window in the kitchen. They’d taken the tea and coffee money (about 40cents, bit of a wasted effort for them). What gets me, what really gets me is the mindlessness of this. “I can do what I want, fuck you”. It’s so incredibly depressing. This kind of teenager has no interest in anything around them unless it gives them something. I noticed it when I repeated year 12. The year before, when I was with the people I’d been with right through school, I’d see the PM on the news making some inane comment and the next day I’d say to Deb or Elvie “Oh god, did you see the PM talking about greenhouse gas emissions?” and they’d say “Oh hell, yes” and we’d have a bit of a rant. The following year I’d go to school and say “Oh god, did you see the PM talking about healthcare?” and they’d say “you watch the news??”.

This, I suspect, is part of the problem. There’s no world view, no looking to the bigger picture, no thinking of other people or the results of actions. Never mind teenagers, it seems to me that there’s an increasing number of people thinking “Me Me Me”. Of course, not every teenager is like this. I like to think the majority are well balanced (ok, as well balanced as you can be at 15 anyway) and interested people that will go on to be good adults. But it’s hard to maintain that when there’s broken glass on the seat. I’m finding it difficult to have faith in human nature at the moment, but perhaps being in customer service is also having an impact. Every time someone gets abusive over an 80cent fine I think “You know what? There really is no fucking hope”.

For those wondering, my Grandmother is as OK as she can be. They decided against the CAT scan on the sound basis that even if they did find something wrong, she is too frail to take treatment. The main cause was exceptionally low blood pressure, but she’s now home and healthyish.

Something has gone horribly wrong with the library database, but as I have a sneaking suspicion it’s all my fault, I’ll say no more.

There are two kinds of personality, as far as I can see, in any workplace. The first kind keeps their coffee mug safe on their desk to ensure no one uses it. In extreme cases, tucked away in a draw. At tea break, these people will go to their desk, get their cup or mug, take it to the tea room, make coffee, drink coffee, wash and dry the mug (or cup) and place it back in the drawer. The other kind - of which I am one - leave their mug in the tearoom cupboard, usually wash and dry it (OK, i generally wash it only and leave it on the draining board). The Cupboard people can then be split into two subsections: those who mind if someone else uses their mug and those who don’t. I don’t.

If anyone would like to fund me to study this further and possibly draw conclusions on life and personality, please do.

I’ve been sat here all day rebuilding the Allwood House site, but it’s been worth it since it now looks 100% less crap and more like something I’m actually happy to put my name to.

Jan (my aunt) took Grandma out for a drive today to try and keep her awake (Grandma is very elderly and quite senile) and ended up dropping in at our place for a cuppa and a chat. Eventually, after trying to go to the toilet in one of the bedrooms, Grandma dozed off at the kitchen table - but then wouldn’t wake up. She was still breathing thankfully so Dad phoned an ambulance. By the time the ambulance men arrived she was slightly awake but still very dazed and I’m afraid I got the giggles at one point when the Ambo was asking her “Do you know where you are? What day is it today?” because Grandma is well beyond knowing what day of the week it is even in the best of health. She’s even losing the ability to speak. If you ask her where she’s going or what she wants she’ll point. Anyway, it was all very fuss free only the stretcher was massive and I was certain it wouldn’t get through the door (rough ride for Grandma as we’re not paved). Jan phoned later to say she’d been admitted to hospital, her blood pressure so low it barely registered and was being booked for a CAT scan. Not sure why, but as she has had many “mini” strokes, I dare say it’s Just In Case. Jan took it like a person who is used to this sort of thing (and recently, she’s had to be used to it, Grandma’s health is very much failing) and lamented that she didn’t have a book this time to read while waiting. Amazing what you can get used to, I guess.