finally.

phew.  my monstrous project is done, for now.  just waiting on approval and then i move on to phase 2 (which, by the way, is just as crap as phase 1).  i sent off my files just a few minutes ago and now i can breathe.  and write.  i know you’ve been so bored without me.

i’ve actually been so busy that i haven’t had time to fixate on the fact that i’ve also been doing douchbag’s job at the same time which was a good thing.  but i’m back to fixatin’ cuz my project is done for now.  he’s a douchbag.  and he hasn’t started yet.  will he ever start?  we’re taking bets. 

i’ve been tempted to set up an auto-reply rule in my outlook for certain people i work with.  the reply would be “you’re a tool.”  it’s my knee-jerk reaction everytime i get an email from one of them and i have to wait a few minutes before replying to them or else i will say it.  let’s face facts.  they are tools.  i only speak the truth.

news news news…

oh! it’s the Brit’s birthday today! yay!  last night i cooked extra special dinner for the Brit, the Kiwi, and the Other Asian (dude, sorry about your nickname but I have to distinguish you from the main Asian (me) and it’s way better than Hand Job which is what i considered calling you (minds out of gutters people – he’s an occupational therapist specialising in hands – sheesh!)).  the Brit chose the menu.  we ate until we burst.  it was a good night. 

the Kiwi got the book ”band of brothers” by stephen ambrose for the Brit and i started reading it last night (his presents are actually our presents).  i finished Thurber finally which i quite enjoyed.  i am also trying to finish Gaudete by Ted Hughes which i started a year ago but never was able to finish.  it’s one of those books that i can’t stop and start because i lose track of what’s happened and who’s who. it’s also written in verse so the momentum gets lost.  it was a gift from the Brit a few years ago and he attached a note that said “…in places, this poem really gets going.”  he didn’t mention that the rest of the poem drags.  i’m determined to finish it before 2010. 

the Brit got me DVD box sets from overseas – House of Eliot, Ms Marple, Little Dorrit and the Forsyte Saga.  did i also mention that the Brit is required to buy me gifts on his birthday?  He’s trying to inundate my head with BBC programmes and not Australian entertainment or people’s court.  apparently he thinks i’ve become dumber too.  Not like House of Eliot is edifying but the english accents make it sound way more intelligent than judge judy. my plan was to watch them all this weekend but i had to work!  i have therefore amended my plan to go home at 1pm today because i’ve been here since 6am trying to finish my stupid project. 

about that link to the australian programme above,  had quite a lively discussion about it at work last friday.  most of the aussies i work with were mortified and embarrassed.  others didn’t see the big deal and then spent the next few minutes convincing me that they have nothing but high opinions of black people and then talk about the one black person they met overseas and how they consider them a friend.  i told them that the “i know a black person” logic doesn’t really wash in america but neither do black face performances.  things must be different in australia.  i have my opinion on it and so do some of my colleagues and i didn’t want to get involved in the dicussion, but i’m the only american in the office so they ask me.  “do you think you guys are being oversensitive?”  you guys?  my reply – “do you think you guys are a bit bogan?”  they should know better than to ask my opinion.

got an email from my father this morning.  he only emails me when my mother has a question for me.  my mother doesn’t know how to work email.  they always start like this “mom wants to know…”  and then he always ends with “if you can please let me know and i will inform mom.”  and then he always signs off “regards”  or “kind regards.”   my daily CNN updates make me feel more warm and fuzzy than emails from my parents.  when my parents write to the Brit,  they always sign off “love.”  i’m convinced my parents love him more.  it’s probably because he always unpacks his suitcase straightaway.   he’s such a kiss ass.

I am currently obsessed with anything  WWII at the moment (hence “band of brothers” on reading list).  it’s  been ongoing for quite a while now and hasn’t faded like my obsession with quantum physics (which came about after watching a series of movies about time travel like back to the future and terminator (very scientific indeed!)).  the quantum physics thing got a bit too nerdy and i envisioned myself playing world of warcraft at a LAN party in the near future so i had to put a stop to it.  on saturday, when i got home from work, we watched three documentaries – one on patton, one on macarthur and one about the battle of britain.  i feel my brain cells regenerating.  we are watching everything that has to do with WWII in including old movies which are the only movies my father likes – finally something in common.  i’ll have to write my father an email “dear dad,  we watched tora! tora! tora!  we can discuss at a later date.  kind regards,  your daughter”  he’d probably reply to the Brit,  and cc me.  maybe not even copy me.  that’s how it is.

update…or lack thereof.

no phone call yet.  no offer.  nothing.  and so i wait.  i have it in my head that he has changed his mind.  the brit is telling me to not be so neurotic.  he blames my catholic upbringing for my negative attitude.  i blame everyone else.  i hate waiting.  did i mention that i am THE MOST impatient person in the world? 

i’ve been on edge all day to the point that i haven’t been able to do any work so i delegated it all to everyone else and worked on a co-worker’s  invite for her two-year-old’s birthday party.   i won’t be able to do any real work until he calls (or i’ll have to find a different excuse).  my invite is quite special if i do say so myself and the first bit of creative work i’ve done in a long time.  i got paid in chocolate.  if only chocolate paid the rent.

today i met another american that works for the company who actually grew up not more than a mile from my parents.  it’s a small world and we are polar opposites.  he is trying to become an aussie and i am trying like hell to avoid  it.   i told him he’s off to a good start because he has a mullet, now he just has to start putting an “o” at the end of every word and develop a taste for vegemite.  that was the end of pleasantries for me but one of the girls i work with insisted that i get the goods on him because she wants to get in his pants.  she actually emailed me a list of things she wants to know.  i had strict instructions to be sneaky.  so i segued into my covert operation like this “do you have a girlfriend?  if not,  the girl that sits next to me thinks you’re hot and you should consider it” (in my naff australian speak:  “do you have a partner because i reckon the girl that sits by me would fancy a f*ck-o”).  i didn’t wait to hear the answer because frankly i didn’t care.  i took my coffee and shuffled back to my desk.  i don’t know what became of it but i saw the two of them chatting by the printer (we don’t have a water cooler so the gathering spot is the printer).  the conversation could have went several ways:

“sorry, i have a girlfriend but i’m flattered”
“nice shoes, wanna f*ck?”
“that girl you work with is weird”

i’m guessing the third option is probably the most likely.  i don’t see myself making a career change into matchmaker.

and another day.

a day spent reading more CVs.  i’m over it all – exceeding expectations, leading by example, mulit-tasking,  working alone and in a team with minimal supervision,  blah blah blah.  it’s all just fluff.  everyone that has strong attention to detail somehow forgot to use spellcheck.  someone’s motto was “learn, unlearn, relearn”  wtf?  my motto is “delegate.”  and someone else put “buying stuff for the house my parents are building for me” as an attribute.  huh? thanks for sharing but i don’t care about your trips to ikea. my head hurts.  i’ve shortlisted the candidates for my manager and i’m just waiting for the go-ahead to do phone interviews.  did i mention that i don’t like others? i think i’m getting dumber reading these CVs. pretty soon i’ll just randomly say things like “i embrace challenges” and “i am deadline-oriented and proactive” because i don’t know anything else to say.

today i said something extremely australian (“give me a hoi this arvo and we’ll get it sorted”) which impressed some colleagues but left me shocked and dismayed.  i was just distracted by a  fresh box of krispy kreme donuts on someone’s desk.  they think they’re winning but  i will not succumb.  

so,  on other things australian,  i was reading the age and was drawn to this headline ‘Teabagging’ case sees military court declared invalid’ only because there was all this talk of tea parties/teabagging in america from right wing whackos (apologies to any right wing whackos who read this blog,  i’m just a whacko in general so it’s said with love).  i thought it would be a case of australia copying americans and their political antics but much to my surprise (and amusement)…um,  well, it’s not the same.  surely they could have re-worded the headline.

and that is my interesting story.  aren’t you glad you tuned in?

tuesday.

i wonder how long i can milk the jetlag story to avoid working hard.  anyone know? 

ah, work.  it has me so confused at the moment.  today, i spent the day doing the duties of the job that i got turned down for.  i asked my manager if these duties would be transitioned to the newbie and if i would have to train him (in my head i was screaming “over my dead body!”) and he told me that he would probably want me to continue to do it for a while because he only trusts me to do it correctly.  really?  that’s interesting because… oh i don’t know…i didn’t get the job. 

my bitterness/passive aggression is on hold at the moment because yesterday they told me that they would hire an attorney to do the paperwork for and pay for half of my permanent residency application.  i don’t quite know what they’ve got up their sleeve but i clarified that i would get my residency as a spouse of the Brit who is a citizen and not as a slave employee of the company.  they seemed quite content with that so i told them to bring it on.  if they’re dragging their feet then i’ll just go ahead and do it myself.  but that’s pretty good, eh?  the application can be pretty costly,  money better spent on a new Tod’s bag,  so if they’re going to pay for half, then i’m more than happy to oblige.  the Brit is a bit dubious about the whole thing and wants to make sure that it won’t tie me to the company.  to be honest, i’m a bit suspicious myself so i may ask for something in writing (written in blood preferably).

so things are just dandy here.  i brought some spray cheese back from america for all to look at and marvel.  we’re all afraid to actually try the stuff. it has directions on how to apply to crackers that sound like the directions for applying hair dye. no thanks.  also,  the fact it says in big bold letters on the front “made with real cheese” is off-putting.  it immediately makes me suspicious.  i would just assume it would be cheese since the word “cheese” is in the title.  it’s like if a doctor put on his signage “John Smith M.D.  I’m a real doctor!”  Would you seriously go to him? yeah,  i don’t think i’ll be tasting it.  so i’ve put it on my shelf next to my obama action figure. my homage to america.

thursday snippets

why do girls go to the bathroom together?  the gals in my office do it.  i do it when i’m at a restaurant or club because i have a bad sense of direction and that safety in numbers thing,  but at the office?  that’s just weird.  do they hold hands under the stall too?  it’ s almost as weird as talking on mobile while you’re on the crapper.  i don’t get it.

my australia anniversary is coming up.  25 may is when i landed in this country permanently.  i can’t believe it’s been three years and i still have to study the money before handing it over, i still can’t understand what anyone is saying to me,  i still haven’t seen an episode of “neighbours” or “home and away”,  i still haven’t eaten a meat pie (probably won’t ever)… so many things.  i think i’ll make the brit take me out to dinner to celebrate.  there’s an african restaurant down the road from us that i’ve been dying to try.  maybe i should have some austalian cuisine, but i don’t quite know what that is unless it’s just kangaroo burgers. 

anyone out there watch 30 rock?  the Brit says that the main character of the show, liz lemon, is just like me – lame and nerdy.  first he compares me to a dog from the Dog Whisperer and now this. i told him that i’m more like the most perfect wife ever.  he didn’t say anything.

i went on the airline website to check out baggage restrictions, etc for our flight.  i think it’s an outrage that i have to pay $50 for the second piece of checked baggage.  how crap is that?  i should just shove extra stuff in my free checked bag and pay the overweight fee of $25.  i hate airlines.

it is now 4 o’clock and i have managed to do NO work today.  that’s a success in my book.  now it’s time to go home.  what a great day! til tomorrow.

new word.

grouse.  That’s an aussie word I just learned.  My new elliptical machine was being delievered yesterday (which is fantastic, more on that later) and the chappie that was doing the delivering said “that’s grouse” when i showed him where it was supposed to go.

In my usual, what-the-hell-did-he-just-say, crap way, i smiled and looked at him ambiguously.  at first i thought he said “that’s gross” so i thought maybe i had some breakfast on my face or something.  but then he said it again and i heard it clearly.  “that’s grouse!”  i then thought he was referring to a nearby bird but i didn’t think that they had grouse in australia so i continued to just stare at him,  my eyes begging him to clarify.  i felt it best not to reply because it didn’t sound like a question.  i made a mental note to ask the Brit when he got home.

the Brit says it mean great or terrific but told me not to use it because no one says it anymore.  pshaw…like he’s worried about me not looking cool.  i think we all know better.  but there you go.  learning new things is grouse.

can’t breathe.

i am wearing the most uncomfortable dress ever.  it has a really tight bodice so i can barely catch my breath (which is great in the stifling heat) and it’s all itchy.  but it’s soo cute so i will suffer along with the 4 inch heels i’m wearing with it. i don’t know how the girls i see walking on the street do it. they wear heels higher than mine and they walk with such ease. i take tiny steps, like i’m balancing something on my head.  with each step, i’m praying to god that i don’t topple over and look like an idiot in front of my colleagues.  that’s why i don’t watch “sex and the city.”  it makes me feel like a high heel failure.  i can’t even wear my heels outside of the office. last time i did that, the heel got stuck in the tram track as i was crossing the road with a tram barreling at me (at a whopping 10 mph) and i saw my whole life flash before my eyes. 

the update on steve is that he looks the same as he did yesterday. i thought he was looking greener and his three leaves looked perkier but that may be wishful thinking.  i do not have this thing called patience and am getting pessimistic.

on a brighter note, i finished drawing my maps. now i know where all the coal fields in NSW are located which i think is handy information for when we have visitors.  in the end, i think my rendering of New South Wales looked more like a pork chop or ribeye steak but the client was happy. 

on the subject of australia, the Brit this morning was talking about taking little day trips this summer – to Williamstown, Great Ocean Road, the Dandenong Mountains. I was really getting into this idea of day trips until he got to the mountains bit and i had to lay down the ground rules (i mean, MY rules) for trips. it’s really quite simple – it cannot involve getting dirty, drop toilets/going outside, camping, creepy crawlies, and being “one” with nature. there is an animal clause however that the husband utilises quite a bit – anything involving animals is always a huge bonus and i can almost overlook the getting dirty part (but not the drop toilets thing).  i know i sound like a total pain in the arse but seriously, i’m so not a nature gal. when we’re walking home from the city and the Brit decides to cut through the park and walk through the grass,  i will actually take the longer route because it’s paved and won’t get grass bits in my shoes.  i’m the one standing on a patch cement on the grassy bit at the intersection while waiting for the light to change.  yep that’s me.  i make no apologies.  as long as the Brit recognises and accepts this, then we’re all good. 

yeah, so holidays (i’m so good at veering off the subject)…  i’m gonna get all “Aussi-fied” this year i think.  i may actually make it out of Melbourne for a reason other than work.  i have an itch to go to Ayers Rock…or Uluru…whatever it’s called. it’s the big red rock that’s always in the glossy propaganda leaflets to come visit australia. i didn’t want to go when i thought it involved camping, but i realised that there are nice little 5-star huts that you can rent out for the weekend.  there’s even camel rides! that all of a sudden moved to the top 5 things i want to do in Oz. then i can get my own picture of the rock instead of stealing one off google images to send to my parents. 

lastly, i just wanted to mention that inauguration day is so close and that all of us here in my office will be watching it,  feeling completely awe-struck and gobsmacked, almost in disbelief that this is all happening (finally). see, the aussies love obama and that makes me proud to be american because by transitive property, that means they love me too.  happy day for everyone!

 

language barrier.

seriously,  i’m having that language diffuculty thing again this morning.  a colleague had to repeat the punchline of a joke for me to understand what he was saying. by the third time, it just wasn’t funny anymore to either of us.  and of couse by the third time there was accompanying hand gestures and motions like we were playing charades for retards.   there should be no problems because they do speak english in australia.  i had less of a problem in france, spain, even flippin japan!  I understood every word in “lock, stock and two smoking barrels.” what is it about this place? maybe aussies speak a lot faster than i’m used to…combined with their accent  and shortened form of everything that’s more than two syllables.

assimilation.

earlier this morning, a colleague asked me when i would be free to run a traning session and i said “anytime this arvo i’m free.”  didn’t even think to “aussify” my lingo or anything…it just came out as if “arvo” has been part of my vocab since birth. (arvo = afternoon).  it’s part of a trend of assimilation that i’m recognising about myself.

a lot of you give me a hard time about my new spelling of words – but that’s how it is here.  it’s the first thing i had to train myself to do.  i had to turn off the US dictionary on my computer and turn on the UK one. now i’m just used to it and i spell words like that in casual emails to my friends back in america.  usually the first sentences of their reply are about my spelling.

my friends are my mates, rednecks are bogans, i have brekkie in the morning not breakfast, i call the trunk of the car the boot,  and my shopping cart at the supermarket is a trolly. and it sounded weird when i first got here but i learned that the way to avoid weird stares from the natives, is to talk like them (most of the time – my american accent gives me away).  it doesn’t bother me as much as i thought it would but i am very aware of it.

i have thankfully avoided most of the annoying aussie things – like raising my voice at the end of a statement (even if it’s not a question) which annoys me to no end.   i don’t say (and i don’t think i ever will) things like “fairdinkum” or “bloody oath” unless i’m trying to make the Brit laugh.  after a party, i don’t ask how they “pulled up” the next morning and i don’t call girls “darl”.

i think my assimilation is of the british/australian variety since the Brit really hasn’t succumbed yet (and he’s been here longer than me!). i like tea in the afternoons and i find myself saying “bloody” a lot, or “bloody hell.” i haven’t developed a quasi british accent (like madonna).  sometimes i put on a really affected one when i’m talking to the husband which makes him laugh because i sound so ridiculous (i say things like “jolly good” and “cheerio” or generally just imitate him the best i can which isn’t that good). 

when i went home to america in september my friends marveled at how different my manner of speaking has become which i never really noticed.  i do still say some truly american things like “do the math” to which most say “god, you’re so american!”  ha! i still got it.

i’m not dumb, i’m american.

good god! i just went downstairs to the little cafe next to our office to get some lunch (my usual spot) and there’s a new guy working the counter.  This dude is a very australian bloke – really thick australian accent,  every other word is an aussie slang word,  mullet, etc.  And did i mention he talks really fast?

i order my food at the counter and, having special needs, have to request some extras (cheese, no mayo, no peppers, etc).  i must’ve lost him halfway thru my order because his eyes start to glaze over and he’s waving his hands frantically telling me stop (i think he’s swatting flies or maybe it’s a nervous twitch).  “don’t know what you’re saying mate.”  but he says it really fast so i don’t know what he’s saying so i just kind of smile and nod my head (thinking to myself, “should i say fairdinkum?”).  and we’re at a stand still.  so then he starts saying it again –  really slowly and very loudly (much to the delight of my colleagues standing around me) as if i’m hard of hearing and might need to read his lips. all the while, he’s tugging his ears and shrugging his shoulders to further add clarity to my slow brain.  so then i repeat my order, this time more slowly (but not louder – i don’t need the world to know what i eat for lunch) and he says “ah, see, i can’t understand you because of your accent.”  bah.  it happens more than you think.  i’ve become really paranoid about it.  I have to repeat “water” about three times to a waiter before they know what i’m saying.

so super aussie bloke rings me up and i start taking my money out.  and i try to be quick about it but i have to get a really good look at each coin/note because after two years here,  the money still confuses me.  even the different colours don’t help.  after what seems like an hour,  i tentatively hand him the money.  of course it’s wrong.  i gave him a five in stead of a twenty.  bah! they’re both red(ish).  i was trying to not look like too much of a foreigner but failed miserably. 

i quickly grabbed my lunch and high tailed it out of there.  i hope he’s not there on monday.