I know a guy who is subletting his bed.
He gets free accommodation as he works in a hostel, but as he spends every night in his girlfriends bunk he decided it would make sense to rent his bed to a friend.
Monday, 31 October 2005
Thursday, 27 October 2005
fairweather friends
You don't expect friendships to last when you're a backpacker. People move on, it's inevitable, but they usually say goodbye before they go.
I met an English girl called Michele who was feeling really lonely. She was working with a bunch of European girls and was feeling very left out. When she found out that I was English and sticking around for a while too she was ecstatic.
She moved into the same room as me at the hostel so that she would have someone to talk to after work. She said she was sick of getting chatting to some one and then having them leave after a few days. I could sympathize with that.
She'd been in the room about 3 days when she got chatting to an English lad in a bar. The next morning she decided to quit her job and go up the coast with him.
She was gone the next day and didn't even say goodbye.
I'm not bothered that she left. I didn't actually like her that much. But after all that fuss it was rude to not even say goodbye.
I met an English girl called Michele who was feeling really lonely. She was working with a bunch of European girls and was feeling very left out. When she found out that I was English and sticking around for a while too she was ecstatic.
She moved into the same room as me at the hostel so that she would have someone to talk to after work. She said she was sick of getting chatting to some one and then having them leave after a few days. I could sympathize with that.
She'd been in the room about 3 days when she got chatting to an English lad in a bar. The next morning she decided to quit her job and go up the coast with him.
She was gone the next day and didn't even say goodbye.
I'm not bothered that she left. I didn't actually like her that much. But after all that fuss it was rude to not even say goodbye.
Wednesday, 26 October 2005
what is your blood?
People are curious, it's human nature. They want to know why a brown skinned girl talks with a London accent and says "England" when you ask her where she's from.
They want more information. They want to know why they can't pidgeon hole me into any one particular ethnic group just by looking at me. They want to know where my parents are from.
I don't volunteer this information unless specifically asked. Mostly because it's none of their business. That I'm English should be enough information for the 2 hours or days I will know you. But, if they ask, I will usual tell.
However I've never had the question worded in such a unique way before. "What is your blood" left me confused for a minute.
They want more information. They want to know why they can't pidgeon hole me into any one particular ethnic group just by looking at me. They want to know where my parents are from.
I don't volunteer this information unless specifically asked. Mostly because it's none of their business. That I'm English should be enough information for the 2 hours or days I will know you. But, if they ask, I will usual tell.
However I've never had the question worded in such a unique way before. "What is your blood" left me confused for a minute.
Tuesday, 25 October 2005
Life is a gamble
There are 3 Irish lads who come into the internet cafe every night for 2 hours.
They play online poker from the time they arrive until the time I kick them out a few minutes after closing. They do this to finance their travels.
I asked them about it and they assured me it's not easy and you really have to know what you're doing. I could get a book on how to play poker and give it a go.
They play online poker from the time they arrive until the time I kick them out a few minutes after closing. They do this to finance their travels.
I asked them about it and they assured me it's not easy and you really have to know what you're doing. I could get a book on how to play poker and give it a go.
Friday, 21 October 2005
Old wives tales debunked
I have it on good authority from the daughter of a Dairy farmer that cows do NOT sit down when it is about to rain.
If a bunch of cows in a field are all sitting down it's because, well, they all just fancied a sit down.
They probably fancy a nice cup of tea and a biscuit too, but they don't have fingers to open the packets.
If a bunch of cows in a field are all sitting down it's because, well, they all just fancied a sit down.
They probably fancy a nice cup of tea and a biscuit too, but they don't have fingers to open the packets.
Thursday, 20 October 2005
Earth Girl has a long conversation
I had a long conversation with an aquaintence last night. It was conducted over the internet and as I'm sure you're aware it's a lot easier to spill your guts online than it is face to face. I ended up telling him a lot of things I probably wouldn't have if he had asked me those same questions face to face.
He asked me if I'd always been fat. Yes, I have.
He asked me if I blamed my parents for me being fat? Yes and No. I blame them for me being a fat child and entrenching me in a very sedentary lifestyle.
But I accept the fact that I should have taken control.
There is no one to blame for me being a fat adult other than myself. Yes, I could have done with some support, yes, I have often been derailed by my family but ultimately the responsibility is mine and mine alone.
I hide behind my fat like a security blanket. I blame it for everything that is wrong with my life, none of it is my fault. At least that's what I'd like to believe. Sure my fat is a problem and people treat me differently because of it.
But most of my problems are probaly due to low self esteem issues that need to be dealt with first or at least at the same time as the excess weight.
When I stop and think about it the only times I have ever managed to loose any weight were when I felt good about myself, work was going well, I had freinds and we were going out and doing stuff I wasn't stuck in the house watching TV. I was happy, I was content, I didn't need to turn to food for comfort. I didn't need to punish myself by eating so much I would feel guilty about it afterward.
I felt like shit when the conversation ended. I wanted to cry.
He asked me if I'd always been fat. Yes, I have.
He asked me if I blamed my parents for me being fat? Yes and No. I blame them for me being a fat child and entrenching me in a very sedentary lifestyle.
But I accept the fact that I should have taken control.
There is no one to blame for me being a fat adult other than myself. Yes, I could have done with some support, yes, I have often been derailed by my family but ultimately the responsibility is mine and mine alone.
I hide behind my fat like a security blanket. I blame it for everything that is wrong with my life, none of it is my fault. At least that's what I'd like to believe. Sure my fat is a problem and people treat me differently because of it.
But most of my problems are probaly due to low self esteem issues that need to be dealt with first or at least at the same time as the excess weight.
When I stop and think about it the only times I have ever managed to loose any weight were when I felt good about myself, work was going well, I had freinds and we were going out and doing stuff I wasn't stuck in the house watching TV. I was happy, I was content, I didn't need to turn to food for comfort. I didn't need to punish myself by eating so much I would feel guilty about it afterward.
I felt like shit when the conversation ended. I wanted to cry.
The Sleazy Serbian
A Sleazy Serbian who tried to shag me the other night. He was yucky, he was sleazy and he kept touching me. Ewww. Damn, Just thinking about him is making me mad.
I was sitting in the bar on my own hoping someone I knew would show up when this mid 30s bald man walks over and asks if he can sit down. I budged up the bench and went back to scanning the crowd.
Then he started talking to me.
"Where are you from ?" He asked.
"England" I told him.
"But what about originally, where are your family from?"
Oh, for fucks sake, I have no intention of divulging my family history to a complete stranger.
"Africa" I replied.
cue some cliched bullshit about always wanting to go there to see Lions and Zebras and Giraffes etc..
"Yeah, uh-huh, Mmmmm" I said as I tried to dislodge his arm and think of an excuse to get away.
"You have very beautiful hair" he said as reached over to stroke it.
I cringed and lent away.
"So tell me what are African women like in bed?"
"I have to go see what's keeping my friend. Bye." I said and left by the nearest exit.
I was sitting in the bar on my own hoping someone I knew would show up when this mid 30s bald man walks over and asks if he can sit down. I budged up the bench and went back to scanning the crowd.
Then he started talking to me.
"Where are you from ?" He asked.
"England" I told him.
"But what about originally, where are your family from?"
Oh, for fucks sake, I have no intention of divulging my family history to a complete stranger.
"Africa" I replied.
cue some cliched bullshit about always wanting to go there to see Lions and Zebras and Giraffes etc..
"Yeah, uh-huh, Mmmmm" I said as I tried to dislodge his arm and think of an excuse to get away.
"You have very beautiful hair" he said as reached over to stroke it.
I cringed and lent away.
"So tell me what are African women like in bed?"
"I have to go see what's keeping my friend. Bye." I said and left by the nearest exit.
Wednesday, 19 October 2005
I'm ever poorer than I thought
Any millionaires out there who fancy paying off my credit cards for me ?
Tuesday, 18 October 2005
mystery unsolved
The Eileeen Brady mystery continues.
She just IM'd me on MSN messenger.
Eileen "Can you chat for a minute?"
Me "Yep" Maybe I'll find out who the bloddy hell she is
Me "I don't mean to be rude but who are you?"
Eileen "Earth girl it's Eileen !"
Yes I know that but how the hell do I know you ?
Eileen "I have to leave the office now I'll chat to you later."
Boy, that conversation was informative.
My friend thinks it could be some kind of scammer or spammer. Maybe I should block her just in case. But I'd feel awful if it was someone I should remeber but don't but I honestly can't ever remember any dealings with an Eileen, ever.
She just IM'd me on MSN messenger.
Eileen "Can you chat for a minute?"
Me "Yep" Maybe I'll find out who the bloddy hell she is
Me "I don't mean to be rude but who are you?"
Eileen "Earth girl it's Eileen !"
Yes I know that but how the hell do I know you ?
Eileen "I have to leave the office now I'll chat to you later."
Boy, that conversation was informative.
My friend thinks it could be some kind of scammer or spammer. Maybe I should block her just in case. But I'd feel awful if it was someone I should remeber but don't but I honestly can't ever remember any dealings with an Eileen, ever.
Saturday, 15 October 2005
donkey
One day a farmer's donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do.
Finally, he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey.
He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well.
At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw. With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up.
As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and happily trotted off!
The donkey later came back and bit the farmer who had tried to bury him.
The gash from the bite got infected, and the farmer eventually died in agony from septic shock.
MORAL FROM TODAY'S LESSON:
When you do something wrong and try to cover your ass, it always comes back to bite you.
Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up.
Finally, he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey.
He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well.
At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw. With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up.
As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and happily trotted off!
The donkey later came back and bit the farmer who had tried to bury him.
The gash from the bite got infected, and the farmer eventually died in agony from septic shock.
MORAL FROM TODAY'S LESSON:
When you do something wrong and try to cover your ass, it always comes back to bite you.
Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up.
Thursday, 13 October 2005
Wednesday, 12 October 2005
Team Scandinavia
I was visited in the internet cafe by part of Team Scandinavia today. I met the Team while housekeeping on Daydream Island.
The team consists of six girls all of whom are (surprise, surprise) Scandinavian. There are 2 Danes, 2 Swedes and 2 Norweigans and they are all stereotypically blond haired and blue eyed except a lone renegade brunette.
There are 2 Finnish girls working with them in housekeeping who technically should be part of the team -what with them being Scandinavian and all, but they aren't because the rest of the team can't understand their language.
Apparently the Swedish, Danish and Norwegian languages have many similarities which means that speakers of one language are able to understand enough of the others to make communication possible. Where as Finnish is an entirely different language. So the others decided they couldn't be part of the 'team'.
That's quite bitchy really.
The team consists of six girls all of whom are (surprise, surprise) Scandinavian. There are 2 Danes, 2 Swedes and 2 Norweigans and they are all stereotypically blond haired and blue eyed except a lone renegade brunette.
There are 2 Finnish girls working with them in housekeeping who technically should be part of the team -what with them being Scandinavian and all, but they aren't because the rest of the team can't understand their language.
Apparently the Swedish, Danish and Norwegian languages have many similarities which means that speakers of one language are able to understand enough of the others to make communication possible. Where as Finnish is an entirely different language. So the others decided they couldn't be part of the 'team'.
That's quite bitchy really.
Tuesday, 11 October 2005
2 beers quick, bitch !
I'd been back in Airlie Beach and working at the internet cafe for a week when my employment agency called me up and asked me work as a housekeeper at the Day Dream Island Resort & spa. Luckily for me I had the next day off so I seized the opportunity to make extra money while I could and hustled down to the harbor at an ungodly hour of the morning to catch a ferry over to the island.
After being kited out in an extremely fetching floral shirt and navy blue Bermuda shorts I was introduced to my cleaning partner Jan. Jan was a Danish backpacker who'd been working at the hotel for the past 6 weeks. She was glad of the help but was surprised that they would pay for a temp as today wasn't particularly busy. Yesterday, she said, had been hectic and she'd been literally running from one room to the other to get them all done in time.
There were many little time consuming touches that were necessary to service the 4 and a half star rooms properly. Superfluous little things, like arranging the teabags and sugar packets nicely in the basket and correctly folding the towels so that they all hung nicely on the rail.
Then there were the little things that you'd never think of, or even notice, such as making sure that all the balcony doors are closed so that the islands wild Cockatoos can't get in and raid the snacks on the mini bar (they have become extremely proficient at pecking holes in the bags of peanuts and eating the contents).
But all of these things were not enough to keep all of the customers happy. Jan told me about the time she had been accosted by a guest for not doing her ironing. It is not the job of the housekeepers to do guests ironing. Yet this woman got into a tizz because the clothes she'd left out had not been neatly pressed and folded for her.
All Jan could do was apologize and explain that this was not a service they offered, while the woman spouted off about the fact that other hotels she'd been to did your ironing for you before complaining to the manager about the poor service.
During tea breaks the housekeeping staff congregated on the verandah outside the Head Houskeepers office teaching each other how to say "2 Beers quick, bitch!" in various languages spoken by the foreign staff.
"Allez vite, du bier, saloupe!" (French)
"Schnelle, Zwei bieren, weibchen! " (German)
I can't remember the Danish version it was very complicated and difficult to remember but the French one was easy; you just have to remember to make a popping noise with your lips at the end of 'saloupe'.
After being kited out in an extremely fetching floral shirt and navy blue Bermuda shorts I was introduced to my cleaning partner Jan. Jan was a Danish backpacker who'd been working at the hotel for the past 6 weeks. She was glad of the help but was surprised that they would pay for a temp as today wasn't particularly busy. Yesterday, she said, had been hectic and she'd been literally running from one room to the other to get them all done in time.
There were many little time consuming touches that were necessary to service the 4 and a half star rooms properly. Superfluous little things, like arranging the teabags and sugar packets nicely in the basket and correctly folding the towels so that they all hung nicely on the rail.
Then there were the little things that you'd never think of, or even notice, such as making sure that all the balcony doors are closed so that the islands wild Cockatoos can't get in and raid the snacks on the mini bar (they have become extremely proficient at pecking holes in the bags of peanuts and eating the contents).
But all of these things were not enough to keep all of the customers happy. Jan told me about the time she had been accosted by a guest for not doing her ironing. It is not the job of the housekeepers to do guests ironing. Yet this woman got into a tizz because the clothes she'd left out had not been neatly pressed and folded for her.
All Jan could do was apologize and explain that this was not a service they offered, while the woman spouted off about the fact that other hotels she'd been to did your ironing for you before complaining to the manager about the poor service.
During tea breaks the housekeeping staff congregated on the verandah outside the Head Houskeepers office teaching each other how to say "2 Beers quick, bitch!" in various languages spoken by the foreign staff.
"Allez vite, du bier, saloupe!" (French)
"Schnelle, Zwei bieren, weibchen! " (German)
I can't remember the Danish version it was very complicated and difficult to remember but the French one was easy; you just have to remember to make a popping noise with your lips at the end of 'saloupe'.
Tuesday, 4 October 2005
The southern gentleman
My first night out in Airlie Beach was with a Dutch girl from my new dorm room. (Not the tomato picking Dutch girl this is a different one, I'll call her Dutch girl number 2)
We were in the hostel bar drinking wine when a bloke tried to get chatting to number 2.
"So where are you from?"
"Holland"
"Oh yeah! Is your friend Irish to?"
"Not Ireland, Holland !"
We giggled, but let him off because it was loud in there. We did the usual traveler FAQ "Where are you from? How long have you been in Australia? How long are you going to stay? Where are you going next?" and it turned out that Gentleman is a mining engineer from Kentucky on a contract with an Australian mine.
We spent a good deal of time talking politics and discussing the cultural stereotype of Americans abroad. Gentleman was very keen to point out that the U.S has distinct cultural differences between it's regions especially when it comes to people from The South and the rest of the population. "You'll never meet more friendly, polite, well mannered people than you'll meet in The South." And he proceeded to demonstrate this by refusing to let us spend a single cent all night.
Gentleman bought us some drinks before we moved on to another bar where I tried to buy a round, but he absolutely refused to let me and continued to buy rounds for the rest of the night with (it seemed) no motive other than continuing our conversation and being the epitome of the southern gent.
Number 2 and I felt bad about him spending so much money when he definitely wasn't going to be getting any from either of us at the end of the night, but he kept insisting, and we are on a tight budget. . .
We were in the hostel bar drinking wine when a bloke tried to get chatting to number 2.
"So where are you from?"
"Holland"
"Oh yeah! Is your friend Irish to?"
"Not Ireland, Holland !"
We giggled, but let him off because it was loud in there. We did the usual traveler FAQ "Where are you from? How long have you been in Australia? How long are you going to stay? Where are you going next?" and it turned out that Gentleman is a mining engineer from Kentucky on a contract with an Australian mine.
We spent a good deal of time talking politics and discussing the cultural stereotype of Americans abroad. Gentleman was very keen to point out that the U.S has distinct cultural differences between it's regions especially when it comes to people from The South and the rest of the population. "You'll never meet more friendly, polite, well mannered people than you'll meet in The South." And he proceeded to demonstrate this by refusing to let us spend a single cent all night.
Gentleman bought us some drinks before we moved on to another bar where I tried to buy a round, but he absolutely refused to let me and continued to buy rounds for the rest of the night with (it seemed) no motive other than continuing our conversation and being the epitome of the southern gent.
Number 2 and I felt bad about him spending so much money when he definitely wasn't going to be getting any from either of us at the end of the night, but he kept insisting, and we are on a tight budget. . .
Saturday, 1 October 2005
Computer illiterate
You'd think that having a degree in I.T would have adequately prepared me for working in an internet cafe. It doesn't.
I'm having to call up my manager at least once a shift. It's usually because I have some stupid little problem that is so easily resolved she must think she's hired a complete and utter moron.
I'm having to call up my manager at least once a shift. It's usually because I have some stupid little problem that is so easily resolved she must think she's hired a complete and utter moron.
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