So, the next date is Monday the 27th of February. Geez, am I behind in these.
Okay, well, Monday and Tuesday were devoted to looking for jobs. I went online and drove to some more shopping centres, handing out my resume. People in Australia are incredibly slack about replying to job offers, and it's really getting on my wick. The days where they send you a letter or call you to inform you that you haven't got it are long gone. Instead, they just leave you hanging, wondering if you're about to get employed any time soon. If that's the case, the answer is no. They don't call you? You didn't make it.
It's so frustrating, and downright rude. If I ever own my own business (which I hope to one day) I shall reply to all applicants, even if it's just a 'Sorry, you didn't get the job this time, but I'll hang onto your resume for futre reference.' I'll make myself better than these people that hardly acknowledge the fact that you're really trying to get a job.
My days, it's no wonder that so many people are on the doll. Bosses don't help give them motivation to get a job because they flipping ignore them. Rargh.
So other than that, I was dabbling with the though of transport. If I got a job, how would I get to it each day? Wendy said I could borrow her car for a while, but I don't want her to walk to work every day. It's a forty minute walk but a five-minute drive, and I'd feel super bad. So I entertained the idea of getting my own scooter or car. It'd give me a lot more independance, and it'd also be a great way to experience the country.
After doing some digging, I found that my English license allows me to drive a car but not a scooter or bike. If I wanted one of the latter, I'd have to do a short course and get my license registered at some place to get a bike-license attached to it.
The reason I'm considering a scooter is because it'd be a lot cheaper than a car, and they're awesome. I can just picture myself on a red hairdryer-on-wheels, motoring down a country road. It'd be fab.
But then, a scooter is very much a one-person mode of transport. If I got a car, I'd be able to advertise in hostels - Oh, I'm driving up to Sydney and have two spare seats, call me if you want to tag along - which would be a good way to meet people. I also wouldn't need to do a course or anything, as I could just buy it, register it, and off I go.
Well anyway, I wouldn't be able to do anything until I have more money, and that wouldn't come until I got a job. So that means that for the time being, I have to focus on getting work.
The sector I really want to get into is hospitality - waitressing, bar work, cafe/restaurant type thing. Unfortunately, they mainly want people for evening and weekend work as that's when they're most busy. And that's when I spend time with Wendy, so that kind of rules out a lot of places that are advertising in the hospitality business.
I could go into retail, as I've got three years experience backing me up, but I really don't want to. I mean, that's what I did in England. I'm here to try new things, not wind up doing the same work I was doing before hand.
Well, that was my Tuesday. It's actually very tiring looking for work. It's so much easier to just sit back and watch a movie rather than scroll through endless pages of job search-results, and it's very tempting to leave it at Oh, I'll do it tomorrow. Just like blogging, actually.
Oh, and I also went and got some medication from the doctor. Can you believe you have to pay to go to the doctors here? $60 a time! Blimey, you really don't want to get sick much if you have to pay those sorts of prices. And because I'm so used to not-paying, I left without giving them any money. They phoned me up later and were like, 'Um excuse me, but you didn't pay for your appointment today. Have you got a credit card I can have the details of please?'. Whoops. I felt like a bit of a lemon.
Wednesday I met up with one of the bronies from the meet-up. We went to the Dockland area of Melly, and went ice-skating. That was very fun. I made a fool out of myself when I fell flat on my arse, but it was good fun, and I came out of it with all of my fingers intact which is a lovely bonus :)
We got lunch and wondered around the Harbour town shopping-bit, where I stumbled across some hoodies. We made a joke of trying some on, but I discovered that this, this is what I've been missing! This hole, in my heart... it can only be filled with... a man hoodie. You know, it's pretty much scientifically proven that guy hoodies are so much better then girl hoodies. No one knows why. They just are.
So I dragged him to all of the guy-looking shops, and tried on many a man-hoodie to find The One. Turns out it was back at the very first shop I found it in, and was the very first one I tried on. That seems to be the story of my life - go out looking for a new dress or shoes, and end up buying the first thing you see, but at the end of the trip, not the beginning. I recall it made Bestie laugh dryly and roll her eyes on a fair few occasions. I suspect I can be a bugger to go shopping with, but people are too nice to tell me so.
Well anyway, this hoodie is fantastisch. So big and warm and comfy, and I love it so. The day I got it, I refused to take it off even when I went to bed, and that refusal led me to one of my great discoveries of my trip - I asbolutely love sleeping in hoodies and jumpers. Where this love came from, I have no idea. But it seems that as I change as a person, I'm discovering wonderful things. And this is one of them.
Thursday evening was fun too. Nothing much happened during the day (as it tends not to, on week-days) but in the evening Wendy, Linda and I went rock-climbing! Wendy met someone on her masseuse course whose husband works at an indoor rock-climbing place, and we were all invited down to have a go.
After been shown the ropes by a worker (ha, ropes, in a rock-climbing centre...), we were let loose on the walls. I found I sort of have a knack for it, or at the very least have enough leg muscles to push myself up the walls. It was rather fun, and a good muscle-building activity, even if my thighs did hurt the next day. It was also fun belaying for someone, where you stand on the ground attached to the rope, and tighten it as they go up and slowly loosen it when they're ready to come back down.
On my final climb, Wendy was belaying for me, and I nearly died coming down. The rope wasn't quite tight enough so I fell a metre or so, the rope then twanged tight, and I was flying halfway across the room on this rope, squealing like a girl. Cue a half-hysterical 'Are you trying to kill me?!' being shouted down to my Australian cousin. But it was a bit exhilirating, and I was in no real danger so I didn't really mind. We had a good time.
Friday was good too, but in a different way. It was Derpy Day, a Brony public holiday in which everyone is extra nice to strangers and buys people muffins to celebrate the character of Derpy Hooves. Some people go around the public giving people a script of Pinkie's Singing Telegram song, and recording them singing it then merging it into a long video, and one guy asked people to write letters of happiness and good will, email them to him, and he went around Sydney delivering them through the letterbox of random houses.
So bearing this in mind, the chocolate muffin I bought outside of Flinders St Station had a special meaning to me and was that much more enjoyable. I ate it in the 5-minute break of my RSA course, the reason I was in the city that day.
In Australia you need to have a Responsible Service of Alcohol certificate in order to work in bars, restaurants, clubs, basically anywhere that sells alcohol. These courses are about $50+ and can be done in a huge amount of places in the city. The one I chose to do was at 250 Collins Street by a company called Hospitality Training Australia. It lasted about four hours and we went over everything from how many drinks you can have before you become prone to accidents (4 standard ones), to when it's okay to have a minor drinking alcohol (only with their parents/guardians, are having a meal, and only have one drink).
At the end there was a test of twenty questions, and I'm pleased to say I got nineteen of them correct. As a result, I got a lovely certificate with my name on it, certifying me as having completed an RSA course.
I did feel sorry for one girl who didn't notice there were more questions on the back of the paper, so only answered 11 out of 20. I'm not sure how they fixed it, but I hope she learnt you should always look at the back of an exam paper. My Psychology exams in college taught me that.
On the way back to the station I went and picked up two more muffins from the same shop. I'll bet the server thinks I'm a greedy-guts for buying three muffins on the same day, but these weren't for me.
On the way home I drew an ornate picture of Derpy on a page from my notebook, with the words Happy Derpy Day! and popped it into the bag with the muffins. Then after getting back home, I happily presented them to Wendy and Geoff. I don't think they could quite comprehend why Bronies (who they know are mostly guys) would do something like that, but they appreciated the delicacies all the same. And it turns out Derpy Day was actually on the Thrsday, not Friday. But I held the concept true and still celebrated the belated holiday. Will be doing it again next year for sure. The world can always do with a bit more happiness.
Saturday the third of March was a mix of a day. It started brilliantly - I drove down to Berwick to meet with another Brony friend called Josh that I met at the meetup. Thanks to the SatNav I arrived without a hitch and parked behind the pub. Josh and I met at the pub and then trecked down to a coffee place for a drink and a chat. We stayed in Berwick the whole time, had lunch in the pub (which is more of a posh hotel, and I felt rather underdressed) and then drove to the shopping centre where we hit the arcade.
I got thrashed at the motorbike simulator. We did the race in Paris (for you, Bestie) and at one point ended racing through a graveyard, then went underground and there were all these ghosts and spirits and stuff around us. I feel it could have been a realistic representation of your holiday?
However I did manage to hold my own in a Shoot-em-up for quite a substantial amount of time, and I was quite impressed with myself for that. Of course, I love blowing things up and the like, so it was pretty darn fun.
We walked around the shopping centre, and found a gaming shop hosting a Yu-Gi-Oh! TCG tournament. We checked it out for a bit, and then looked around the shop. It was pretty cool - it had replica memorabilia from Final Fantasy and such, and I saw a life size Master Sword and Hyrule Shield from Zelda. I cann't begin to tell you how much I wanted to buy them, and for $160 for the both of them, It was a very reasonable price, and the detail was awesome. I talked myself into not buying it, though. Not sure how I'd explain that buy to my parents.
However, when I get my own place, I shall proudly let my geek decorate it, and I shall have the Master Sword and the Hyrule Shield atop my mantle piece. I will be the envy of everyone. Most of them just wont know it.
I satisfied myself with buying a Zelda hat instead. I'm pretty sure it's a guy's hat, but hey, who cares? It can go with my guy-hoodie. It is incredibly cool - all black, with the Hyrule-eagle symbol outlined in silver about twenty to thirty times, and then a very big one diagonally placed on the front. The big one is stitched in gold cotton and heavily outlined in black.
And actually, after doing a google search, I found an image of it - hatty hat hat. It's such a swish thing, I love it so <3
So yeah, I bought an awesome hat. Josh nearly bought a Halo wallet but decided not to despite my encouragement. I'm so so bad at that. I'm a bad bad person to go shopping with. I have hardly any self-restraint, and encourage people to lose theirs too. Bad Merlin.
We got back in the car and I decided to get some petrol. So we got in the right-turning lane, with Moves Like Jagger playing on the radio, and the light turned green. The convoy of cars started moving, but then the woman in front of me suddenly slammed the brakes on, despite the light being green. Reacting quickly, so did I. I didn't know what the Hell she was doing - I mean, it was green, so why on Earth did she stop? I still have no Idea, two weeks on. It boggles me.
The guy behind me wasn't as responsive, as Josh and I jerked forward as his bonnet hit the back of Wendy's car. We kind of sat in silence for a moment, and then I put the handbrake on. Josh turned the radio off and all three of us got out of our cars.
I was shaking quite bad. I'd never been hit before, so I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to do. We were in a queue of traffic so we couldn't talk here. I gave the guy a stern look and told him to follow me to a parking spot, and he agreed.
We got back in the car and quietly turned right (after the light re-turned green) and I led the guy round the back of the petrol station, and thankfully, he did follow me.
We got out again, and the guy was very apoologetic, but that didnt change the fact that he hadn't reacted in decent time, like I had. He said that he was on the way back from 'training' and that he was incredibly tired which is why he didn't respond so quickly. I mean, dude. If you're incredibly tired you shouldn't be on the road.
The damage wasn't great - a few scratches, cracked paintwork and the like. But it didn't matter to me how little the damage was - the fact was that it wasn't my car. Wendy and Geoff had lent me their vehicle, quite generously, and I'd gone and got hit by some other idiot. I felt so bad, so guilty. It was one of the worst feelings I've ever experienced.
I wasn't in my own country, I didn't have comprehensive insurance, and I'd just been hit in a car which didn't belong to me. That first initial hour after it happened was one of the worst I've experienced in a long long time.
It turned out that the other driver wasn't insured. Things were worse for him, because I was at least covered by the very basic insurance Australia has - that if you're hit by another driver, you're covered. But if you hit someone else, you're not.
So I took his name, email address and mobile number. Told him we'd contact a mechanic to look at the damage and then tell him the cost. He agreed that that would be the best way to deal with the situaton.
In hindsight, I also should have taken his registration number. But I was rather shaken up, and it just didn't occur to me at the time.
The driver went off, and we sat in the car for a moment, allowing me to collect myself. I still had to buy petrol, and Josh was still a Learner, so he couldn't drive for me. After giving myself a mental slap in the face to get a grip, we went to the petrol station. I phoned Wendy to ask what type of petrol to put in the car (there are like two or three different types), and I think she noticed there was something wrong via my voice tones. I assured her I was fine, but I reckon she was having suspicions that Josh wasn't as gentlemanly as I'd described him. My bad, Josh. I just didn't want to tell her on the phone Oh yeah, by the way, I just got bit by a car cause her mind may have gone into overdrive or overprotective mode. She was also busy organizing a party for Geoff's daughter, so that was another reason not to bother her with it at that time.
It was still pretty obvious that I was still a bit shakey, so Josh insisted that we went to a cafe and had something chocolatey to spruce me up. I drove back to the main street and parked up again, and we went and had a slice of Mars cake at a coffee shop.
Josh was excellent for me that day; I'm incredibly grateful that he was there. He allowed me to be clingy, and kept me talking and laughing, so much so that I nearly forgot what I was upset about. He was rather a Saint.
So when the time came to drive back to Rowville, it was a nervous drive. It was absolutely pouring down with rain, so on the freeway I went a bit lower than the limit. I didn't want another accident to happen if I could prevent it. I didn't look at the tonnes of probably angry cars overtaking me. I just drove at my own pace and made it back to Wendy's in one piece.
As soon as I got home I took Wendy aside and told her what had happened. I was a bit of a mess, quivering and crying, but she was fantastic about it. She said that it wasn't the first time it had happened to their car, and that it wouldn't be the last. She said that she'd done it to other people by mistake, and that in Australia if it's not too serious they don't really care.
The fact that I was so upset about it made Wendy say that if I didn't care, had been like Oh yeah, got hit today, bit of damage. No worries though, eh? then she would have been rather pissed off. Thankfully though, I have a very large conscience.
So after all that had happened, there was still a party to attend. I did take a few minutes to bawl in my room before heading out and saying hello to people. Geoff's daughter Sam was twenty-one and they'd invited loads of Geoff's family over to celebrate.
After the day that I'd had, I confess I drank a lot of alcohol. I've never yet been as drunk as I was that night. I had many many ciders, and also a few glasses of Vodka Cranberry and a glass of champagne, and a glass of punch.
I only knew Wendy and Geoff, so if I hadn't been drunk I would have been feeling very awkward and the odd-one-out. Thankfully though, I was drunk. So I happily went around talking to strangers, hugging people, and dancing (probably badly) to the loud music they had going on, and I had a really good time.
At around 1AM I started munching on tic tacs that I'd been practicing swallowing tablets with. That was what tipped me over the edge, I reckon. Yes, that night I chundered for the first time in my life. When Geoff found out the next day, he gave me an incredibly proud smile and said 'My work here is done'. (I think he thinks we don't drink heavilly in England).
So Sunday we just had to clear up. Geoff's two daughters, their boyfriends, and a best friend stayed over after the party. After a lovely BBQ breakfast, we got to work clearing away plates, cups, bottles, beer tops and the like.
I designated myself in charge of the washing up, and after spending quite a time helping clear up outside there was a substantial amount to do. I spent over an hour at the sink, washing and then drying, then putting away, and then doing the whole cycle again. I think that if I hadn't had my music on to help it along, I could have made some angry comments to the over-nighters. They hardly lifted a finger the entire time. They'd do a bit here and there, but Wendy Geoff and I did practically all of the work. I was so angry. I mean, I didn't even know these people. If you have a birthday party, you help clear up the next day. No excuses.
Maybe it's because I have a strong sense of duty or whatever. I just know I wasn't too impressed. Especially when one of the boys said to me 'Wow you've been standing at that sink for ages. It must feel like forever'. I really really had to bite my tongue at that.
The day did get better though - after the clearing up was finally finished Wendy and Geoff and I went Go-Karting. I'd never done it before but had always wanted to. We paid for twenty laps, and had major fun with it. Of course, Geoff won. He was so full of himself before the race, but afterwards I'm not entirely sure how he managed to fit his head in the car. It was quite funny though - he got a really really bad back because of the position you have to sit in, and I cheekily commented that it was Karma getting him back for being big headed.
It's difficult though. I thought it'd be like Mario Kart, but apparently not. It's so hard to know when to use the breaks, because you lose so much momentum going around the corners that you have to rebuild on the straights. Also, it pulls on your arms a lot, because you have to keep them ramrod straight the entire time, and grip the wheel with an insane amount of strength.
I came in third. Not last. Third. Out of three. But definitely not last.
But it doesn't matter that I didn't win, because I'd wup their asses at Mario Kart any day.
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