Wednesday, December 31, 2008

What bleeds my barracas this week.


Why do I need a memento of your holiday?

"Hey, I see by your socks you've enjoyed Tasmania."

"Ahhh, no, my girlfriend's aunty enjoyed Tasmania, I haven't done the washing for a bit."

Monday, December 29, 2008

ARC has ruined me for bands.

I've never been much of a spectator.I can watch a whole football game a couple of times a year, but really, it just makes me want to kick some balls, tackle some dudes, way off-time screamers, etc. Bands is the same deal, watching other dudes totally bang out some tunes is fun for like, a couple of minutes, before an overwhelming urge to kick one of them off and rock out on stage takes hold and does not let go. Freakin'.

With Cara's new 2nd band gigging, they asked me to do the lights for one of their shows, and now I've done lighting for almost every one of their gigs. It's awesome! It totally connects me with the band, with the audience and is superfun. I have no idea if I'm doing a good job or not, but I've yet to be punched, so either I'm okayish or peeps are too polite these days.

With the awesomeness, comes the non-awesomeness, which is watching non-Cara bands. Cara loves it, she gets to see what everyone else is doing, gets ideas, inspiration, motivation, makes friends, gets to enjoy music without the luggin' and the setting things up. For me, it's just a bit of standing and being still. Does anyone even like standing?

One of Cara's bandmates little brother posts notes on facebook with a religious ferver about bands he's seen and how much he enjoys it. He seems constantly moved or superimpressed. I just don't really get it.

Of course, I'll still go, I'm more than happy to support the little red rockchick while she does something she loves, I just wish I enjoyed them as much as I enjoy her gigs. Maybe I just need to bring my own lights. Surely the bands won't mind.

One gig I am excited about is Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova doing/being/playing The Swell Season. It's a sit-downery and their songs are so freakin' awes. Maybe I just like bands that I know all the songs of.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Doesn't matter if you're black or white. Doesn't matter, yeah, yeah, yeah.

I've never really done a shot like this before, but it was ridiculously easy to pull off. Light behind the young lady, light in front/slightly above and bang. Photoshop helped me convert to black and white and I upped the contrast. The only I'd like to improve in this shot is more light on her eyes. Something to keep in mind next time.

Adventures in the dirts

I'm not sure why we did this, I think everyone was so super over being ridiculously good looking all the time. Anyways, the models loved it, crazy kids.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

You have 5 messages (of lurve of similar - surely).

I've become quite concerned about the lady who did the voice for the messagebank on my phone. I don't know what the market share of the different phone companies are, but there must be a few million Australians who hear her informative yet slightly excited tones each day. What kind of life must she have? Do people subconciously press 1 when she mumbles? Does she find that dudes and chicks press 3 (or 5) halfway through a totally boring sentence? Can she even leave her house? Talk in public? Messagebank lady, are you okay?

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

What damages my determination this week.

Driving me mental this week is that at work I seem to have become the focal point of every person's question, comment, ventation, etc. I cop a heap of questions that people could really figure out themselves, comments that I don't really need to hear and ventation that really, isn't particularly relevant to me.


Honestly, people.

Work is awesomes.

This week brought me my greatest achievement in my working life thus far. I'm really quite proud and would like to share this with you all.

Two days ago, I managed to convince my colleagues that my nickname is Captain Awesome. This moniker is totally getting more airtime than a 10 year old's rubberband.

Greatest. Achievement. Ever.

Thanks Internetz.

Thank yous via e-mail? What say you, are they necessary?

Being a Knight of ITness, I've always been about the paperless office and the non-surpurflous e-mails. I link to a document rather than send it, I don't CC anyone unless they absolutely must be included and I'm happy to just chat to someone instead of sending a potentially misunderstood message. IT peeps tend to me on the lazy side and don't read all the words, which leads to confusion, yadda yadda yah.

If someone does something for me, I'll say thank you next time I see them, or I say thank you at the top of any further e-mails I might need to send, but I don't just send a thanking e-mail. Am I a rude sob? I never really thought of it until recently where maybe a 3rd of my e-mails are just the two words.

In the days where you had to open each message, I found that annoying, but since most e-mail programs have that view pane thing, I dunno...

I don't want to be impolite and it's not hard, it just seems like a bit of a waste of their time to read the e-mail. I just totally don't know.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Overheard in NYC/Melbs.

Shop lady "Well that sounds like a nice day planned."

Customer "C'mon sir, let's go."

Sir jumps up.

Shop lady "Hee hee, he's ready, he's ready. Okay, see you later."

Customer "See you."

Whoa! Adam, your blog is awesome, all these stories of amaze. Wait, the reason I wrote this is because Sir was a guidedog. The shop lady never even gave the phrase 'see ya' a second thought, whereas I'm totally sure I would have been all suave and "Okay, see you later... um, I mean, ah, I'll see you later but ah, you'll um, hear me later or um, ah, what a nice doggie." Grr blind/shop people, making me feel ackward about throwaway farewell words.

Monday, December 22, 2008

Festive Bullies

The method of operation of the Festive Bully is to heap on the obligation to suspecting friends and relatives using any festivities or celebration as an excuse, ie, "Oh, it's May Day,the day that celebrates the social and economic achievements of the labour movement? YOU MUST COME OVER TO MY HOUSE FOR DINNER, BRING PRESENTS!" Festive bullies don't allow the myraid of creative excuses one may use to not spend time with them that the bullied have been perfecting all year long, and alas, society actually sides with the bully by removing all possible excuse derivation mechanisms. Working late, funerals, studying for exams, washing hair, being hungover as all get out are disallowed on many festive occasions under the We're Scared of Festive Bullies too Act 1812.

Elevator at the end.

Man, I do this every time I'm in a hurry. I run into the building and bolt into the elevator, without checking to see if I'm running into the elevator that really should be avoided at all costs.

This morning, I pressed 10 without even realising I was in the wrong elevator, and Whammo! I'm there hanging with my 10 year old self instead of getting to work on time. Stupid time machine, different colour doors just aren't enough for dumbos like me.

Anyway, waiting for the timemachine to come back round, I thought I'd talk to the kid (ie, me) to kill time. Usually I just ignore him and mutter quasi cursewords.

"Duuuuuuuude, I'm from the future, whoooOOoooOoo."

"Cool, can you come back later, I'm watching Inspector Gadget?"

"Young Adam, I'm from the future, I can tell you amazing things, I can answer any question you have."

"What happens next to Go Go Gadget?"

"Um, I dunno, the dude causes an accident that Brain has to solve. Hey, ever notice that Brain seems a lot like Gromit, as in, 'Wallace and'?"


"Never mind dude. Man, look how little you are, how do you ever reach anything? Can your arms even lift those hands? Can you possibly have any economic value at that height?"

"Nuh. I can jump real high and run real fast. Wanna see my Batman cards?"

"Heh, I remember those. Anyway, never mind that, I've got some things to tell you."


"Hey, whoa! Lego! Man, I loved this so bad, let me build something."

"Hey, stop taking things apart, that's my flying surfboard... stoppiiiittttt, I'll call my Mum."

"Alright, alright, geeez. Anyway, my advice to you is...... play sport in highschool and learn to swim."

"I love going to the pool!"

"Good, make sure you learn to swim. It's a good skill to have, and that way you won't have to pull out of a triathlon when you're older because the sea was crazy rough."

"I also like going to the park. And playing frisbee with my Dad."

"Um, okay, yeah, that's swell."

"Anything else?"

"Um, let's see, maybe do the Violin for more than one semester."

"The violin? Can't I play the drums? Hee hee, An...i..mal hurr hurr hurr."

"Kids are crazy. Later dude."


"Wait, will we have flying cars and dragons as friends?"

"Nuh man. The future is a total ripoff. We'll have crazy small computers and carry around phones."

"We have a computer, it takes a long time to load Double Dragon."

"Yeah, they still take a long time to do stuff, but the graphics will be much better. So long kiddo."

I got in the real elevator, pressed Level 10 and did the usual round of excuses. Waiting for the machine to boot up and connect to so many networks, I realised that apart from being a bit more sporty as a kid there isn't really anything I'd change.

I think I could have been heaps freakin' good at footy and basketball and whatever else, but by the time I wanted to give it a shot, everyone else had already been playing it forever and had mad ace skills of awes.

Also, just a word of warning, 10 years olds are exactly like talking to a simpleton. I'm sure I remember being smart. Hmmm, maybe I just caught myself at a bad time.

Nothing else has really changed in two decades years. Cars are still pretty much the same, computers are smaller, but still break and take ages to do things, people don't even have any superpowers or laser fingers or anything. There isn't a single hoverboard or death robot in sight. We still have to work and emotions are still running rampant, making all our decisions. Food is still edible and totally required and really not much different.

Am I expecting too much?
C'Mon 20 Years, do something!

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

What hurts my hummingbird this week.

People who can't possibly comprehend why you wouldn't want to join their mailing list.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

What suits my salad this week.

People at work who just land at my desk and launch into whatever it is that they want to talk about without checking to see whether I'm busy or not. Being a dude, I really only have brainspace for one thing at a time.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

Huh hrm

Happy Birthday that Cara!

30 years old. That is hard to the core.

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Bring on this recession y'all, what's taking so long?

I had a part-time job from an early age and was super rich for most of my early teenage years. These jobs dried up and by the time I was in uni I was as poor as poor can be. Well......., okay, maybe not ditch-living, bug eating poor, but living on say, $10 a week.

I didn't really need money, I was at uni most of the time, my hobbies weren't expensive and I was too young to go out on the weekends.

As me and my mates neared 18, I painted up some fake IDs and we'd hit the nightclubs. A group of four dudes, maybe not The Dukes of Hotness, struggled to get in to these clubs filled with so much promise. I'd usually get in as I perfected the art of just walking straight through the door, mostly though, one of my mates would get KB'd as they had perfected the art of hovering nervously near the door hoping the bouncers would need an emergency coffee at that very second.

After getting knocked back from pretty much evey hot and not-hot nightspot, we'd end up at Pancake Parlour until the wee hours of Sunday morning recounting tales of how we nearly got in that time, and for such adventures a dude need moola.

I looked in our local paper and found something in the city. I was lucky. We were in the tale end of the recession, but no one knew that at the time. I only had one item that wasn't a black t-shirt, it was a white shirt that had no collar, I was the coolest young adult when I wore it that one time to a cousin's baptism or similar.

I was nervous and the only candidate being interviewed at that time. The offices were small and near the Victoria Market back when the area was still fairly run down and dodgy.
For my first ever interview, I think it went well. I was polite, I was intelligent and enthusiastic, my potential boss seemed pretty suave and gave me the run down on the type of employee the company was looking for. The interview was going so well that I almost forgot to ask what it was that I'd be doing.

The boss dude leaned back on his comfortable office chair, he tapped a flouresent yellow pen on his desk and told me.

"You'll be walking into individual businesses and offering staff a great opportunity. They can purchase a pen like this and a scratchy lottery ticket for $2." Being the ever polite and strategic young man, my smile didn't betray my thoughts. What a scam, this interview - what a waste of my time and bus fare.

"Of course, ..." He continued, "You can't approached any business with a sign out the front."

"A sign?"

"You know, 'No Hawkers' that kind of thing."

"Oh yeah, of course."

I thanked him for his time. I did do alright, he asked me back for a second interview. Despite knowing I wasn't going to touch this job with a kabillion million foot barge pole, I did honestly smile. It's nice to do well at something.

"One word of advice though..."

I turned back, almost alarmed.

"For your next interview, wear a shirt with a collar, you'll need to be professional."


I'll do that.

A mate was telling me recently that when he first moved to Melbourne his first job was to walk around approaching people to sign up to a new mobile phone contract. Who would change their mobile phone providers to a random dude in the street? Needless to say, he lived on just plain rice for fair while.

With a cyclical recession coming, I'm looking forward to the opporunity of maybe getting a dodgy job. I never realised my destiny years ago to be a hawker, swooping down on unsuspecting retail staff to make 1, maybe 2, sales a day. I think I'm ready now. Maybe a dude can follow me around selling 'No Hawker' signs. So much opportunity.

What kills my kissinger this week.

People who ask a question, who then ask the exact same question of someone else. I'm happy to answer anyone's questions, hit me up, but it's a totally waste of so many things if people are just asking questions so they can get so much attention. It does feel like a total slap in the face too, didn't my opinion slash advice solve all your problems?