Facebook is not a democracy…

•Monday, March 26, 2012 • Leave a Comment

…therefore you don’t get to vote what I can and cannot put on my page.

It seems every other day I come across people asking questions about Facebook – should they friend the person who insulted them in high school? Should they block the stalking ex-boyfriend? Can my mum force me to friend my horrible relative that no one likes? etc etc. I’m sure you’ve all heard at least one of them and in your head the answer is simple…who cares?

I pretty much have one rule of my facebook page – it’s mine. End of story. I will friend (and defriend) who I want; I will post about whatever subject I want to; and yes, I may even use bad language. It is up to you to decide what you want to see. It is up to you to hide my feed. It is up to you to block me. It’s really quite simple – you cannot change my behaviour, you can only change how you react to it (points for those who recognise that little gem!)

Which leads to my next point – grow a backbone and stand up for yourself! If you don’t want to friend that weird cousin that no one in the family likes, just don’t do it. If the fall out from not doing that is so great, you’ve probably got bigger family issues than a facebook page can handle. If you decide to friend them, that’s fine too. You can hide them. It’s okay to hide someone who pisses you off, if you don’t want to go all the way and defriend them. Again…make up your own mind. There is no need to ask a million internet users if this is okay. No, really…we don’t care.

And yes, you probably should block the creepy ex-boyfriend if you ever come across his page. Do you really think people will judge you for that? Are you that indecisive you need to create a poll to find out if this is okay? Give me strength people!

And last, but not least, we come to perhaps one of the most controversial question of all…spoilers! Be they television, awards ceremonies or sporting matches – everyone has an opinion of when you should avoid posting spoilers. But guess what…I don’t! If I want to post the winner of Dancing with the Stars the minute they are announced, I will…and you cannot tell me any different. I make no apologies for this. If you want to remain spoiler-free until you can see the show for yourself, try owning your actions and not going on facebook. The world will not end if you don’t log on for a couple of days until you watch the replay. Now some people say, you should wait until the show has aired in every timezone in your country. Ummmm, no. Do you know how many timezones there are in Canada? Some people go even further and say you should wait 24 hours or even in some cases, a week in case people are behind on the shows. You know what? I don’t give shit if you haven’t watched the latest show. I have and I want to let the facebook world know that I enjoyed it…or hated it…or agreed with the result. Bottom line, once I’ve seen it, I’m posting about it. It’s up to you to avoid the spoiler. And no, I will not add a spoiler tag to my status – it’s ugly and I don’t like it. How about you censor yourself instead of me?

And most importantly, don’t get mad if I delete your posts telling me what I can and cannot have on my page. Like I said, it’s my page and I will control what is on it. And that is the way it should be!

It’s The End Of The World As We Know It

•Thursday, February 23, 2012 • Leave a Comment

And now, the end is near…or at least it will be in December if the Mayan’s were right. If not, no harm, no foul, right? But it got me thinking, it the world really did end on 21st December 2012, what would we really miss? Or, more importantly, what wouldn’t we miss? So I started my list of the pros and cons of the world exploding into a fiery pit of hell and damnation…

  • Pro – don’t need to pay back my university fees
  • Con – taking over the world won’t be possible with so little lead time
  • Con – no more Christmas presents
  • Pro – don’t need to buy anyone any Christmas presents
  • Con – no more New Year’s Eve parties
  • Pro – no more New Year’s Day hangovers
  • Pro – no more bloody reality shows
  • Con – I would be stuck in hell with never ending reality TV shows
  • Pro – the Police Academy movies would never get remade like they are threatening
  • Con – Ghostbusters 3 would never get made
  • Pro – New South Wales would never get a chance to equal Queensland record streak
  • Con – Queensland would not be able to continue their winning streak
  • Pro – Mariah Carey/Jennifer Lopez would never be able to do another bad movie
  • Con – David Beckham would never do another underwear ad
  • Pro – I will forever be in my 20s
  • Con – No 30th birthday bash
  • Pro – no more reunion/comeback tours for washed up musicians who should just stay dead
  • Con – No teaching the next generation about the brilliance of Elvis, Neil Diamond and The Beatles and forcing them to listen to me singing on road trips

As you can see I’ve thought a lot on this subject, but the most worrying of all is that Marty McFly will never even go to the future, let alone back to the future!

So, I hope the world doesn’t end, however, because of that niggling little doubt in the back of my mind, I won’t be buying any Christmas presents until the 22nd December. I would like to apologise right now to my family and friends because this year, I’ll be doing the last minute shop and if all I can find left is a bookmark, let’s hope you enjoy reading!

The Door Stays Open

•Thursday, December 8, 2011 • Leave a Comment

For the first time in 28 years, I am solely responsible for keeping myself alive. That’s right, folks! I’ve got my own place. All mine. Only mine. Mine mine mine! But with that great power comes great responsibility. I actually have to plan my grocery shopping before I get to the supermarket; I have to remember to get the washing out of the machine once it’s done; I have to do all the cooking; I have to do all the cleaning (which is probably the biggest one) and not only that…I have to take the rubbish out!

But, even with all those extra jobs and duties, I’ve found that within my little piece of real estate, I have phenomenal cosmic power! As I type this post, I am sipping from a glass of wine, which was resting on a Star Trek coaster, which is on top of an Elvis tray table. The rest of the Elvis tray tables are housed next to my Elvis guitar, right next to the coffee table that houses my Star Trek figurines and other Elvis memorabilia. And since it’s Christmas, the lights are twinkling on my Elvis-themed Blue Christmas Christmas tree. And that’s just the start of it!

You know that door thingy on the bathroom? It stays open! All the time! Putting make up on? Open! Having a shower? Open! Making an offering to the porcelain gods? Open!

Don’t feel like cooking tonight? That’s fine. Oreos and beer it is!

Want to play a song on a loop for hours at a time because you’re determined to learn the Thriller dance? No one there to chase you with a knife after the third repeat.

Washing up in the sink? Nah, I’ll do it tomorrow. Or even put the dishwasher on…without a full load!

You know those shows that you publicly trash but secretly love to watch? You know the ones – Toddlers and Tiaras, What Not To Wear, the 12 hour marathon of Storage Wars. There’s no one there to confirm these are watched in your house. And best of all, no one to take the remote. I can flick between three channels and no one complains.

Although it’s hard to blame someone else for taking the last cookie or missing a spot of dust, there is one major incentive for living alone and one which I heartily embrace.

NO PANTS!

You have the day off and don’t want to do anything but sit on the couch? You don’t need pants for that! Hard day at work and you want to kick back with a beer? No need for pants! Cooking dinner? No pants. Putting away your clean clothes? No pants. Housework? No pants.

So to all those people who are thinking of moving into their own place. Yes, there are down sides, but think of the freedom you get. Especially the freedom of not wearing pants!

You Can’t Say Can’t In Canada

•Saturday, September 24, 2011 • Leave a Comment

G’day mate! You hear that and you instantly know that the person talking is Australian. Perhaps it’s the accent, or perhaps it’s the words themselves that invoke images of sunny beaches and golden tans…and the occasional crocodile or shark attack. But, a warning to all those Australian travellers out there…there are some things you just can’t say!

It’s really quite amazing what an accent can do to a word. Listening to a New Zealander say fush and chup will usually get a smile. Asking them for suxty-sux servings of fush and chups to be delivered to suxty-sux suxty-suxth street will get a chuckle. Asking them if their nupples got stuff sutting on the dick chair will amuse people (okay just me) for hours.

Same with asking a Scot to say murder or brandy, or getting an Irishman to say potatoes. To the speaker, they are just talking; to the listener, it can brighten an otherwise dull day. To some people though, there are some words that you shouldn’t say outside your own country.

Case in point: Australians can’t say can’t in Canada. To the Canadian ear, the arn’t sound comes out like unt as in hunt. So telling someone “you can’t” will lead to a few raised eyebrows and probably some not-so-hilarious misunderstandings. Remember…you can’t say can’t in Canada!

Also, hockey to Canadians = ice hockey. Hockey to Australian = field hockey. There’s also street hockey, inline hockey and indoor hockey. But in Canada, hockey will always mean the hockey that’s played in a cold arena with blades on the bottom of your boots. And also of note, the Mighty Ducks movies are not an accurate portrayal of the game. Nor do the penalty rules make sense. It’s easier to enjoy the game without really understanding the strange rules.

When a Canadian says they drive on the right side of the road, they mean the actually right side of the road. When an Australian says they drive on the right side of the road, we mean the correct side of the road.

When a Canadian says they are double-fisting, it means they are carrying a drink in each hand. When an Australian says it…well I’m sure you can find that out on the internet! (Warning: Totally NSFW!!!!!!)

Squatter in Australia is a boardgame about sheep stations.  Squatting in Canada can either mean taking over a property that you don’t own and refusing to leave, or well…squatting (again, NSFW internet search)

And of course all the usual ones:

  • Tomato Sauce = Ketchup
  • Softdrink = Pop
  • Mince = Ground Beef
  • Vegemite = Eww, that’s so gross! How can you eat that stuff?

But no matter what else you take away from this post, please remember this: You can’t say can’t in Canada!

Here’s a tip for you

•Monday, April 4, 2011 • 1 Comment

Now, it might be because I’ve grown up in Australia, but I’ve never really understood the whole tipping thing. And since I’m getting older and grumpier, here’s a general alert for all those American and Canadians workers who I’m sure I’ll come across in the next couple of years – I ain’t gonna learn just for you.

In Australia, as a waitress, you get paid by your boss to take someone’s order and bring them food and drink.  In USA, you get paid by your boss to do the same thing and then you want me to pay you because you did your job? Not gonna happen buddy! Especially not gonna happen at 20% of my bill. Maybe…if you’re lucky and save my life when I start choking on my dessert, then I might leave you a tip.

And most importantly, don’t get snippy if you don’t like my tip – I’ll just take it back. You should be thankful that I even remembered to leave you something for doing nothing over and above what you are expected to do anyway.

And giving you money for opening a drink in a bar, open top of what I’ve paid for it?? Seriously? Hand over the bottle and I’ll open it myself and save myself some money. Unless I’m ordering a 6 nip cocktail with umbrellas and a twirly straw, don’t expect any extra.

And most importantly (and yes, well-known restaurant franchise, I’m looking at you!) don’t sit down at my table to take my order. My table is for my party and me. Not you. You are paid to stand up and deliver my food and drink, not sit down and get all buddy-buddy with us.

And since I’m on a roll…taxi drivers! Why the heck are you getting tipped? You don’t help me with my bags and you either ask me the way or just follow your GPS. Apart from grunting in my direction when I ask you how your day is, what do I get from you that I can’t get from a robot or a well trained monkey? And actually, I’d probably get the same level of conversation from a monkey.

I may not have the highest expectations for customer service, but I do expect at least a minimum of professionalism. Don’t roll your eyes at me when I ask about a meal; don’t pop your gum within my hearing, in fact don’t chew gum while you’re working at all; if I ask for something, bring it to me. It’s really quite simple and I can shorten it to three simple words: DO YOUR JOB!

The Joys of Unemployment

•Sunday, January 16, 2011 • Leave a Comment

For the first time since 2008, I have found myself unemployed, but don’t despair, I’m not heartbroken and stressed about how to pay the bills, in fact, I’ve decided to take a leaf out of the Monty Python play book and look on the bright side of unemployment life.

  • No alarm clock in the morning;
  • Post lunch naps;
  • Post breakfast naps;
  • Daytime TV – Reruns of Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman is on weekday mornings at 9am;
  • Clothing is optional, you can stay in your pjs all day if you want to;
  • No fighting the rest of the office block for a parking space if you happen to be ten minutes later than normal;
  • No having to get there 20 minutes before everyone else so you don’t have to fight people for a parking space;
  • Midweek grocery shopping, you don’t have to wait for the weekend or after work to pick up something to eat;
  • No Sunday afternoon panic to find enough work outfits for the week ahead;
  • You can do the washing when you feel like it, and hang it out when you want to (provided these things to not take place 3 days apart);
  • You don’t have to fight with anyone over the last of the softdrink in the work fridge;
  • Even if you are the only person in the house, you don’t have to answer the phone if you don’t feel like;
  • When you discover the salad dressing is still sitting on the bench at home when you’re ready to have lunch, all you need to do is walk 2 metres to te bench and get it, you don’t have to eat dry salad;
  • The stash of chocolate is bigger at home and you don’t have to share it;

I’m sure there will be many more things that can be added to this list as time goes on, but since I’ve only been officially unemployed for a day and a half, I don’t think I’m doing to badly!

You’re Nicked!

•Wednesday, November 10, 2010 • 2 Comments

Two good things happened in 1983 – I was born and The Bill went to air. Sadly, in 2010, I am the only one left. The Saturday night staple that Australian’s watched for 27 years finally came to an end. There’s no more Crazy Cathy, no more Smithy, no more Tosh or June Ackland. It’s rather like saying goodbye to member of your family or a good friend. And to be honest, The Bill has been in my life for longer than some of my friends.

Who can forget the wonderful memories of Polly, falling in love with Dave only to have him marry someone else? And then watch her get arrested for assisting a suicide and come back to Sun Hill as a civilian? Or Bobbie Cryer, niece of Bob Cryer (yup, very original character names), with that familiar nose.

Or Psycho Debbie, who seduced Tom Chandler, got pregnant with his child, blackmailed him into marriage to forward her career and then played the grieving widow when he died.

Or Frank Burnside – who was so popular that he got his own spin off.

Or Detective Don Beech, the bad seed of Sun Hill. Convicted of murdering his colleague and then fleeing to Australia only to be blown up in the middle of Sydney Habour.

Speaking of explosions, who could forget the massive boom that rocked the station, killing all those officers and marking the start of the June and Jim era. On again, off again, married, divorced, on again, gambling addiction, alcoholism – their relationship had it all. And then it was done. And no, it wasn’t their legs on the opening credits.

Who would have thought way back when Jim Carver first arrived at Sun Hill as a Probationary Constable in Wooden Top that billions of people would fall in love with those characters? How could you not love Reg Hollis? Jack Meadows? Tony Stamp? Mickey Webb? Gina Gold?

And who could forget those characters that you just wanted to kill off? Gabriel Kent? Jim Carver’s second wife? Des Tavner? Kerry and Luke, who eventually divorced after Luke slept with Craig the night before the wedding.

And now for perhaps the saddest part of all…I didn’t have to double check any of these names or situations to write this post. I remember when Gina was diagnosed with cancer and didn’t want anyone to know. I remember when Zain turned evil and killed off Honey. I remember when Cass got killed by the serial killer Simon Whatshisface (My bad – It was Simon’s sister Pat – Thanks Lex!). I remember all this because I am a loser loyal viewer.

Well, I was – up until a year or so ago when the producers decided to make The Bill edgy. Why? What was wrong with it that you needed to get rid of Overkill, the theme that everyone knew and replace it with a whole load of blah music like every other show on TV? What was wrong with veteran characters that were the reason so many people tuned in? And seriously? What was with those ridiculous camera angles and the sudden inclusion of Eddie, the forensic know it all that did everything?

There was no need to suddenly try and compete against CSI. If we wanted edgy science-based storylines we would have stopped watching years ago. And now, because of those ill-fated decisions, we’ve had no choice but to stop watching.

To the actors and actresses of The Bill who have entertained me since before I can remember, I thank you for your dedication. To the crew of The Bill who filmed and edited for all those years, I thank you for your hard work. To the producers and the production company who jumped the shark and ruined a perfectly good show, get nicked!