The Little Guy: On His Own

Over the past few years something has become abundently clear to me, is that what ever rights we think we have, are a lie. We think that we own our property outright and can deny entry by anyone we like. It simply is not true. Government can grant permission to anyone to enter private property if they see fit. You also think that you have free will when it comes to whether you want to sell your property or not, especially if you have never had any intentions of selling. This is also untrue- you can be forced to sell your property, even if you own it outright and do not want to sell. Government can force you to do this, yes they may let you drag it through the Land Courts, but they're not going to decide that the other person or company cannot buy your land because you do not intend to sell. No. They can set a price that the other party must pay, and hand your deeds of ownership over to the other party, even if you are still saying no. Indeed you have no rights, and this week it hit home for me more than ever.

You see, this week my family has been forced to sell a farm they have owner for 25 years to a mining company to destroy. Everything my parents worked, sweated and bled for will be destroyed in one foul swoop. The chicken run my dad built with his own two hands, the garden my mother and I tended for years. The fish pond I kept guppies in and lay beside on warm afternoons. The house my parents fought to be able to build, because they had already been forced to sell one farm to repay the bank. They fought to keep that land in the mid-90s and build the beautiful home on it, and now its gone. My childish dreams of bringing my children home to the farm for visits, my ridiculous sense of right and wrong, destroyed. I still cannot fathom how this can be allowed to happen, without the consent of those involved. Lives and families destroyed- because surely they cannot expect me to be happy about what has happened, problem is I don't know who to blame. I feel quite numb, as well as feeling like I've been set adrift in a vast ocean without a port in sight. I don't know how to feel, in some ways its like I don't care but how can I just not care? I'm upset with myself for feeling that way. I'm isolated, I know that- they're two states away from me and I'm leading my own life of sorts. I'm also afraid to see them, I will be next week for Easter. I'm afraid of what I will feel then and how I will react. Small mercy is that my boyfriend will be there to calm me down if anything goes too sourly. I don't wantg to hurt my parents, and I don't want to become bitter. But its part of me that has been lost- the home I grew up in, and farm I feel a part of. And I feel like no one else fought for it or considered how I feel. Its not just a farm, and it can't just be replaced "let's find another place to call home" is what my dad said, its not that easy. I won't feel any connection with any new farm, I wanted THAT farm.

And now there's not even a hope of "buying it back" in the future, because it will have been completely destroyed by the greed of an international (Chinese owned) mining company who cares only about their profit margin. I'm not usually a vindictive person, but I truly hope they burn in a special place in hell reserved for the most despicable individuals that ever existed, along with those in government and government jobs who allowed this injustice to happen. Burn.

Luck of the Irish be with you, to try and prevent the ever increasing prospect of becoming a North Korea type dictatorship... Now I'm off to try and calm myself....

Hope and Help

If Metro paid me to stand on my local train station bridge, and only paid me a few dollars per person who approached me instead of the PSOs to ask directions, I would be on a fast track to wealth. I don't know what it is that attracts people or makes me come across as approachable. I mainly have men and older people approach me for help- perhaps because I look friendly or non-threatening. Whatever it is, I am happy to help (so long as they respect me and don't cross too far over the creepy line). 

On Friday I stood at the station for around 45 minutes and was approached by about 6 different people needing help. That didn't surprise me, there are always commuters from elsewhere or unsure where to go (specially now with the station upgrades and new platforms), what surprised me was that time after time they chose to approach me rather than the Protective Services Officers. I guess it stands to reason that some do have a subconscious distrust of the uniforms (though it doesn't make sense to me), but why trust a random young woman who is standing in one spot for so long?

I'm 26, medium height and build with blue eyes and brown hair. I dress well most of the time and use only a small amount of makeup for the most part. I smile often and keep mostly to myself unless approached. Personally, I can usually sense if someone is not on the level. Maybe then, I exude some kind of energy that reassures others that I am kind, patient and helpful. Maybe the men just like talking to women (and let's face it, even I can admit that I am much more attractive than most people in my area). Maybe it's just the fact that there is someone around and they are getting desperate. If you know, let me know too!

As always,

May the luck of the Irish be with you!

Endings

There is something quite bittersweet about arriving at the end of an era. Like finishing the final book in the Harry Potter series the first time and realising that after so long waiting, a chapter has finally closed on that event in your life. Excitement, suspense and a little bit of sadness well up inside you and enhance the experience of devouring that final piece of what you've loved. 

Tonight I finally got around to watching the final few episodes of How I Met Your Mother. What I thought of the close is really not important; but the message of love, friendship and making the most of what time you have is what should shine through the brightest. What I thought was poorly done by the writers, was the glossing over of the mother almost entirely. We got to see snippets here and there of her, and that made me love the character. I find that the title of the series was more a way to appeal to an audience of sentimentals and romantics, a more apt moniker would have been "How I Am Still In Love With Your Aunt" or "How to Trick Your Kids Into Insisting You Forget Your Dead Wife and Get Back With Your Ex". I know a lot of fans felt insulted by the ending, and I tend to agree with them. Cue the fan edited endings turning up on youtube.

I suppose a number of favourite television shows have endings that leave the fans upset, especially those shows which lied to them over the number of years about how their theories were incorrect. Of course I mean Lost when I say that, and although I stopped watching during the second or third season (it just got so damn repetitive and dragged out), I read about the ending and frankly it seemed confusing and contradictory of the earlier seasons. Clearly that was to keep viewers who had figured out the thinly veiled plot path. A show that I did stick with until the end was Dexter-- introduced to it by my boyfriend after we started our relationship long distance, during about season 3-- at first I thought I would surely hate a series about a serial killer who killed other serial killers/ bad guys, but after going back and watching the FIRST series, I was hooked. The secret is to start at the start, not on a third season finale! In fact that's something of a pattern with me- realising that I like a show when it is in its third season and having to go back to the start and re-watch. Dexter's ending was another extreme let down by the writers. Suddenly the psychopathic serial killer (who is given an ethical code by his adoptive policeman father to ease his own guilt and try to keep him closer to the right side of wrong) was able to feel love and so was not a true psychopath, he was merely the self-fulfilling prophecy of his father's and a psychologist's fears. Even more unnecessary was revealing that he survived and was working as a lumber-jack.

Now back to HIMYM: I really loved the show from the beginning, watching it on I think a Wednesday night at 7.30 or 8.30pm in my parents open plan lounge room; the year after I graduated high school. Eventually the show must have lost some of its ratings; not surprising after the timeslot, days and even channels were changed. Eventually to keep up to date on the new episodes, I had to resort to catching up online. Which brings us to tonight and the final episode. After almost 9 years, the characters are not the only ones who are almost unrecognisable from their first appearance in the show. Here I am having watched the series finale of How I Met Your Mother on my laptop; in my bed two states away from where I first started watching it in my parents lounge room. I have a lovely boyfriend, great friends, two degrees (one of which I have only recently graduated wtih) and hopefully a promising teaching career ahead.

Far from being the end of an era or a crossroads, I see myself at the early beginnings of a new chapter. And its definitely going to be a good read.


Luck of the Irish be with you xx

May you always walk in sunshine,
May you never want for more,
And may Irish angels rest their wings right beside your door.

Weekend Rituals

When the weekend rolls around once more, my boyfriend and I usually head out somewhere to a cafe. We have a local that we frequent quite a bit, the barista, waitressed and owners are friendly and vibrant and we love their coffee and food. Sometimes we get a bit adventurous and head off to another suburb- usually when my photographer boyfriend sees a foodie photo on instagram of a dish and decides we must try it. Most recently it was red velvet pancakes with black sesame ice-cream. HEAVEN. My first bite was a bit "WHAT THE?!" because I unwittingly put two or three raspberries in with a small bit of the pancake. My next bite took me to breakfast heaven, and I didn't stop until the last bite. At first the black icecream looked daunting, I mean, who wants to eat something that's black? Other than aniseed and licorice flavoured food (like black jellybeans), I don't think I've eaten anything that was fully black like that. It was a unique flavour, and one that I would love to experience again-delicious.

Red Velvet pancakes, cream cheese ganache and
Black Sesame ice-cream at Axil Coffee Roasters

When this weekend rolled around again, it brought with it malaise and exhaustion for both of us. I spent the early part of the week curled up in bed with a stomach bug that made me feel like I was going to re-enact the most famous scene from "Alien"... every few minutes. My doctor thought I may have been showing signs of appendicitis, thankfully that settled down. My boyfriend came down with a sore throat which soon turned into a lovely phlegm fiesta, complete with congestion and aching everythings. So, we kept it local and tried out a nearby cafe which is relatively new to the area- and just happened to be of my boyfriend's heritage- Greek! Our food was deliciously fresh (the ciabatta I suspect was freshly made today in the bakery cafe itself), and the staff were lovely and efficient. I can't wait until they bring out their promised new breakfast menu- it's coming soon!! Unfortunately (for my waistline and wardrobe) it means that I've discovered a nearby purveyor of Greek Sweets- my favourite baked goods!

Luck of the Irish be with you,

Kali nihta (good night)! xx

Public Transport and Stolen Mykis

Most will agree that public transport in Melbourne is terrible, though we all know that it could be much worse. Given that commuters travelling in the city and inner suburbs pay over $7 per day full fare to use it and around $3.56 per day if they have a concession- that's around $1750 per year if the full fare traveller only travels on week days, and half that for the concession holder. Now multiply that by the increasing number of commuters. If there were 100,000 full fare commuters then over the year this adds up to around $175million annually. We all know that there are far more commuters than this using the system- in fact just yesterday I had to cram onto a train that was bulging at its seams at 11am. This was due to major delays caused by track faults, and a backlog of commuters, but the problem is they "temporarily fix" the issue and it becomes a problem a few days later again. That is the actual notification that is sent through the alert app "the problem has been temporarily fixed". What's more, they also don't count the full train or the train after it when checking if overcrowding is an issue on public transport, likewise they probably don't count the delayed train or the train after it if they're checking for punctuality. If they did, they would have a lot of non-arriving or late services and could not possible uphold that 90-something percent punctuality rating, they would be reimbursing a lot of daily customers if that were to happen!

Frankly, may of the trams, trains and buses used by the transport system in Melbourne are old and disgusting. Old buses have uncomfortable seats, stairs to climb and smell really badly- the elderly, disabled or injured would never be able to negotiate those stairs safely! Back when I was on crutches a few years ago, I would have been terrified to try and get up some of the bus stairs I've had to use. Bus drivers have severe road rage at times and some drive like bats out of hell. I've been told off by one driver because I didn't "wave my arm" at him, even though I was at the bus stop and standing under the sign, told off by another because HE was late and I happened to be checking my phone when he arrived (how would he know, I could be checking the app to see when the next bus was?!). Trams are death traps, wet days means increased passengers, less seats, more standing and dangerous conditions. I have fallen on trams a number of times, the first time I injured my back on a myki reader, the second (memorable) time I fell onto a container in my bag and injured my back again (which resulted in me not getting to touch on), my 2hour pass had expired about twenty minutes prior and I was nabbed at the next tram stop and given a $120 fine- which despite me having moved to Melbourne only a month or so before and having reasonable reasons, stood and had to be paid. Most recently, I fell on a tram during bad weather, the driver braking suddenly at the stop lights (I don't think he slowed down for them), resulting in my laptop screen being damage so badly that half of it no longer works. BUT Yarra trams refuses to take responsibility due to their signage saying to hold on (bit hard if you're on a tram with about 50 other people). So that happened in November 2013, Yarra Trams ignored following up on my emails in December (or before) and then when I contacted them this year (in January) they told me that too much time had passed and they had no records and wouldn't pay for the repairs to my laptop. It is now being dealt with by the Public Transport Ombudsman.

Mykis are so annoying too. Back in the days of the metcard, you could just throw it in a recycle bin when it expired or not worry if it accidentally got lost because you had probably used up all the trips on it anyway beforehand. Not myki, you have to guard that thing with your life. Within three days last week, I lost two. My concession myki and my original personalised myki. I logged into the concession account and discovered that someone had found and USED my myki until the money had run out- blast! Now the website has refused to allow me to log into the other account yet, so I can't tell if it suffered the same fate (I assume it has!)



Wishing you a rainbow,
For sunlight after showers-
Miles and miles of Irish smiles
For golden happy hours-
Shamrocks at your doorway,
For luck and laughter too,
And a host of friends that never ends,
Each day your whole life through!

Graduates and Jobseekers

"You will graduate as the most sought after teachers", well that was a lie, almost four months on and I'm yet to even get an interview. I'm a graduate teacher, with my Masters no less, yet I am struggling to find a job. One rejection even said that the selection panel had decided not to appoint anyone to the position. I guess its politically incorrect for them to say "of all the applicants for this position, we prefer to have a class without a teacher for the forseeable future", perhaps my boyfriend is right and it was a funding issue that meant this automatic email was sent. Who knows, all I know is that its hard to meet the cost of living and your obligations when no one will hire you.

I was told "just get some casual relief work", great idea that and I would love to get into it. Problem is, there are so many graduates just like me trying the same thing that its a madhouse. I actually did get a call from one agency, which lasted about 1 minute. She asked my availability (any day of the week), both she and I got hopeful, then she asked if I had a car or just used public transport (I only use public transport because I can't afford a car at the moment, not having a job to pay for it or fuel and all), she promptly tells me "Sorry, but I can't help you then. We have a requirement that all our teachers have a car, as our schools aren't near public transport." This is extremely odd, as most schools have public transport at least a block away from them in my experience! But whatever, she doesn't want to help me, so I'll move on to the next agency.

Meanwhile, I have to get money to survive somewhere. So I jump through the government hoops like a trained animal and try to deal with the bureaucracy and the haughty, disdainful treatment by others as I go to centrelink with everyone else who needs money. It started with one-on-one interviews, then suddenly they started cramming about 15 people in like cows to a "group" session where they spout the same old thing at you and ask for your "job search efforts" whilst reminding you "you must apply for all sorts of jobs you are physically capable of doing, full time, part time and casual". Its clear they don't care about getting people appropriate or suitable jobs for their qualifications or ability. They only care about getting a job, and if that is a casual job that will result in yoyoing back and forward from centrelink payment to employment etc then they don't really care. It can be humiliating and frustrating to deal with them, in fact I had a one-to-one appointment once that they later claimed I had not attended which took precious time to sort out.

Sadly, I just feel depressed and defeated by the fact that I haven't been able to find work yet and have to keep getting paid less money than I need to spend in order to survive while I look for said elusive appropriate teaching position.

Luck of the Irish be with you,

May the road rise to meet you,

May the wind be always at your back,

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

The rain fall soft upon your fields,

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.