I'm the same ghost I was before

But I still converse with the spirits
When people talk I dont hear it
I walk through doors when no one sees me
I disappear, I disappear, disappear
Whenever it may please me

-Oingo Boingo -

Wow, who knew that Oingo Boingo wrote the coolest music in the world?

The last two weekends have been great! Almost Adelaide-esque from a weather point of view. There is a latent warmth in the air that has thawed me out of my winter malaise. I even went for a jog on the beach this afternoon!

During the course of my work with Groove Terminator Laboratories Pty Ltd, I would say that things have been pretty good.

There was a great learning curve at the beginning, what with learning to use new software, and getting used to working in a professional environment. It was exciting to actually have money, and be able to buy things and do things without having to worry about where the next cheque would be coming from. I got along with everybody (the exception being Horsey-girl, but we've settled for a dignified aloofness). I could basically slip my headphones on, get wired for sound, and work away by myself for a good 8 (or 12) hours before going home.

The work hours were very flexible, and everybody knew their place. Things were running like a well lubricated machine. Of course there would be a minor misfire occasionally if somebody raised the ire of Horsey-girl, but we would all run for cover neath our headphones if she was in a foul mood.

Things changed immeasurably about 3 months ago when a new girl Nikki started on our team. I suppose you could say that I work in a male-dominated industry, so adding another girl to the team would inevitably change the dynamic.

And how! Barely 23 yo, and 5'5 of dynamite. She isn't exactly hot in the traditional sense, but she was definitely cute and certainly made better scenery than the Horsey-girl.
The thing with Nikki is not about her looks at all. She has this omnipresence.

Within the first day of work, she had sensed the tension in our room, and cut through all the carefully constructed webs that held our little office together. She had put Horsey-girl in her place by sticking up for someone that was copping the brunt of another misdirected tirade. And had been propositioned by at least two male colleagues.

She makes me coffee every morning, just the way I like it, and her big brown eyes twinkle with mischief as she makes paper hats for everyone in the office whilst singing "hoed von papier" or somesuch in her delectable dialect. So how can I not be intrigued and entranced by this girl? I found her to be friendly, enthusiastic, and quite unique. She's just my type.

And as fate would have it, we were paired up to work together on a few projects. She invited me to her house. I've had breakfast with her and her parents. We kind of bonded a bit. We discussed her recent ex-boyfriend. I took her out for a coffee one morning when I came in and found her dissolved in tears at her desk.

However, just lately, we've kind of drifted apart. Possibly due to the on-off nature of her relationship (they're still best friends, and go motorbike riding every weekend). Possibly due to her Aquarian genotype which makes her a free-spirit never to be owned or possessed.

The thing is now that work is 'really great', although not for the same reasons. I spend a lot more time just hanging around the coffee machine talking with her than actually doing anything productive.

So now that work has become less stimulating mentally, yet somewhat more stimulating in other ways, I find myself not wanting to leave. Despite my better judgement telling me otherwise.

And then there's Amanda in accounts, but that's a story for another time...

Zing...

I'm blogging from my bed,... and I love it...

Say hello to my newest toy.

A glistening sparkling new Compaq Presario V5000.

I won't bore you with all the specs suffice to say that it has a 15" widescreen (sorry boys, size does matter), and has not one but two cores for running Vista when it hits our sunny shores sometime in the next century.

There is a Gig of RAM under the hood, and a 5 in 1 card reader.

However it couldn't read my library card or my 'breast inspector' card, so I'm thinking of taking it back to the dealer...

Thankyou, I'll be here every Wednesday...

The little Red Hen that could..

The thing about my line of work is that you end up becoming a train-spotter.

It's just one of the pitfalls of the job.

So imagine my surprise when I came upon this familiar looking feline in a rail yard in the tiny township of Koromburra, in the picturesque Gippsland region.

Its a restored 300-series Red-Hen train! Not to be mistaken, of course, for the 400-series which had a drivers compartment at each end. It's the very same as the one I used to catch to school each morning when I lived in Adelaide.

The great thing about these old rattlers was that the doors were opened and closed manually. And all the tough teenagers (like me) would all sit by the door with their heels jammed in the door sill, keeping them open to allow ventilation for their ciggarettes. Apparently some smart Alex felt that this was 'unsafe', and sadly the trains were decommissioned in 1996. Many of these fine steeds were scrapped for junk metal. Wistful sigh.

I can still smell the heady mixture of diesel fumes and asbestos brake pads...

For those people that don't have handy access to Victoria or $380, and would like to drive one, there is a simulator here...

I mentioned to my rather attractive Dutch work colleague for whom I have hots that it would make an excellent outing for a date. They even throw in a free lunch! She shook her head and replied that if anyone took her on a date to a train-ride she would dump them straight away.

Feisty. I like that in a woman.

For more photos like the one that I stole, and a comprehensive history of this little slice of heaven, look here.

Mommy, the sky is falling.

Eighty - six hours.

That's how many hours I worked last week.

8 - 6 h - o- u=r s!

It's like two regular weeks work crammed into the space of one. You really should try it sometime.

Apart from sleeping, that doesn't leave a lot of time for reclivity. Or anything else...

This week, my boss summoned me to his office. I have been expecting 'the talk' for some time now. Especially since two of my colleagues had mysteriously disappeared during one of my field trips. I thought that I would have to initiate it, but he beat me to it.

"Now as the project is nearing its final stages, their is a strong possibility that you (that means me) will be out of contract in the next three weeks."

"And it's sad that we had to let Mihail and Johnson go last week, but we don't have enough work going to keep you all on."

"And since I (the boss) will be taking a new position in sales, it will be up to the new project leaders to decide if they want to keep you on."

"Now, I don't want to see you go, but I want to see a lot more of you round the office. No more late shifts. We're part of a team you know."

"I just wanted to give you notice thats all, I didn't want to stuff you around."

OK.

I don't know what that was about. I haven't been officially given the sack. As far as I can tell... they were offering me a large brown bag with the word SACK written on it instead.

Methinks I should start looking for new work as a precautionary measure.

I get the feeling that my time is up.