Australia: Apollo Bay

Work has sucked all the creative energy and comedic juices out of me. All I am able to write in this week's entry is that we spent a romantic weekend at Apollo Bay. After a humorously bad start (we didn't even know how to get to the highway), we made it down the four-hour long drive on the [wrong side of the] scenic but windy Great Ocean Road along the Indian Ocean shore. After I recovered from car sickness, we checked into our studio apartment hotel and took a long stroll on the beach (I know - so cliche). We ate the best octopus of our life at the famed Chris's Beacon Point Restaurant sitting atop some cliff over Bass Strait and watched the sunset against a backdrop of pillowy pink skies. The next morning we hiked a portion of the Great Ocean Walk, picnicked at Johana Beach, and were lucky enough to catch the cutest little kaola bear wandering around. Justin was tempted to make a kaola rug out of him. Fantastic weekend. Enjoy the pictures (check out the crazy signs of all the animals that we don't have back home). The end.

Aussie Phrase of the Day:
Shrimp on the barbie: grilling shrimp on the barbeque.
Example: How about another shrimp on the barbie?
(I am kidding. Sorry but I am so lazy and tired that I can't even think of a proper Aussie phrase to teach you. Aussies don't even say that here - they call shrimp "prawns". I promise I'll be much better next week.)

Australia: Let's Hear the Music

Australia has a radio station broadcasted throughout the entire country called Triple J. Imagine taking a road trip and not having to fuss with the radio to find a station to listen to. Triple J is also a non-profit radio station so their programming isn't interrupted with annoying advertisements every ten minutes. What you get is an eclectic mix of music from all genres, headline news every hour, and funny talk shows featuring guests who can say whatever is on their mind without the censorship American radio stations have to deal with. Not only do they play Michael Jackson, Bob Marley, Radiohead, and Smashing Pumpkins, I am also exposed to British and Aussie and even American bands that I have never heard of. My new favorite song is called I'll Kill Her by a French singer named SoKo. I get a kick out of it every time it's on. Delivered in a cute scratchy voice with the perfect accent francais, the lyrics are hilarious and deliciously psychotic:

i would have waited like a week or two
but you never tried to reach me
no, you never called me back
you were dating that bleach-blonde girl
if i find her, i swear, i swear…
i’ll kill her, i’ll kill her
she stole my future, she broke my dream
i’ll kill her, i’ll kill her
she stole my future when she took you away
she’s a bitch you know, all she’s got is blondeness
not even tenderness, yeah, she’s cleverless
she’ll dump your arse for a model called brendan
he will pay for beautiful surgery ’cause he’s full of money

In other music news, last month Madonna released her 21st album in 20 years. Although I have yet to buy the CD, I am immune to critics who are denouncing her desperate attempt at garnering young audiences by collaborating with the likes of JT. No price is too high for her music or live performance (I have had the honor of attending her last three tours in DC, NY, and Tokyo.) A devoted fan for two decades, I am in awe of her timeless beauty, musical ingenuity, and of course her MILF-ness.

Aussie Word of the Day:
Bogan refers to a certain part of the working class that is not particularly popular with the rest of society. A stereotypical bogan has a mullet or dreadlocks; lacks personal hygiene and fashion sense, often wearing flannel shirts with torn 80's jeans or long second-hand skirts with Birkenstocks; drives a beat-up Ford; listens to heavy metal (AC/DC); and is either unemployed or blue-collar.
Example: Dude, that bogan chick is pretty cute - if you clean her up a bit. Wash her hair, put some makeup on, and give her something slutty to wear. Not sure how to get that Eau de Toilet stench off though.

Top Ten Most Hated Workplace Personalities:

I have fully submerged myself in the vast corporate ocean – and not just any part of the ocean but I’ve dived straight into deep end: the prestigious and selective banking area often closed off to the public. After such a long period sunbathing on the sand, I am reminded of why I hate certain types of “swimmers” if you will. I’ve only just started at The Bank so I don’t have any complaints just yet – everyone is smart, friendly and good to work with. From my years of corporate experience across many industries, I'm simply reminded and fascinated that it seems no matter what company, industry, or country you're in, these types of people exist that make you want to roll your eyes and punch them in the face. I have compiled my list below:

Top Ten Most Hated Workplace Personalities:

1. The Incompetent Manager: The guy who doesn't know what he's talking about but loves to hear his own voice. We all know he's the office idiot, constantly spewing bullshit out of his ass. But he's your manager so you do all the work while he takes all the credit when the project is a success.
2. The Ambitious Brown-noser: The guy who kisses ass every chance he gets. Usually pretty bright, on the fast track and always politically correct, he acts as the "hall monitor" to the rest of us who bend the rules and make inappropriate comments. You feel nauseous every time you see him sticking his nose up the boss' ass.
   
3. The Loud Cell Phone Guy: The guy who is always on his goddamn cell phone and talks so loud that you can't help but hear who he shagged last night or when his next dentist appointment is. Or he leaves his phone on his desk when he goes to a meeting and it rings every five seconds with an annoying ring tone like "My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard..."
   
4. The Office Bitch: In my industry, there are not that many females so whenever I meet another girl I'm always excited to have female company. However, some women, usually average looking but delusional and think they are hotter than they actually are, have an innate jealousy and competitiveness and do not like to share the limelight with other women. So listen up bitch, I'm here to make money and make friends - not to steal any attention of dirty old men from you. It is not my fault some of us are better looking and naturally more charming than you are.
   
5. The Office Gossip: This is the girl you cannot trust. She may seem like everyone's best friend but she talks shit about you behind your back. This is often the same person as the Office Bitch and usually best friends with the Ambitious Brown-noser.
   
6. The Office Slob: This is the person who always looks frazzled with wrinkled clothes and does gross things in the office like chew with their mouths open or cut their nails at their desk or leave the toilet un-flushed. I don't want to hear "click click click" [nail clipper sound] in the office. And I certainly don't want to see your piss/shit/bloody tampons in the toilet or your curly fries on the toilet seat.
   
7. The Arrogant Know-It-All: This is the guy who knows everything about everything endlessly spitting out useless trivia. He is also a connoisseur of all the fine things in life and brags about his Ferrari or $1,000 bottle of '83 Grange. You want to hate him but you know he's the loser who used to get beat up in school and he's simply compensating. You also don't mind him because his wealth of knowledge is useful at times, like when you want to know where to find sushi served on naked women.
   
8. The Sick Person Who Insists on Going to Work and Getting Everyone Else Sick: Why do people insist on coming to work when they're sick? Trust me, whatever your contribution is to the world, it's not that important and it can wait. I don't mind when people get sick - it happens to the best of us. But stay home so you don't contaminate the entire office! And the sound of sniffling every 13 seconds makes me want to pull my hair out. Take a goddamn tissue and blow! (This was particularly evident in Tokyo because it is considered impolite to blow your nose in public, so I'm left with a half-bald head.)
   
9. The Smelly Guy. This is the person who either has really bad BO and doesn't know it or who wears way too much cologne/perfume - either way it is a preemptive strike on your nose. Some guys mask their BO by dousing themselves with cheap cologne which makes everyone want to vomit, especially when we are all confined in a tiny conference room with them. I had to inform a manager once to stop wearing so much cologne because it made me want to THUR-ROW UP.
10. The Stinky Food Lady. This is the lady who always brings her stinky food to work. If you insist on microwaving your leftover fish for lunch, then be a little considerate and eat it outside or in the stairwell where nobody goes unless there is a fire. We don't need the entire floor to smell like your day-old fish. Well, I guess I can't complain too much about people's stinky food. If you've ever worked with me, you can attest that I eat all day at my desk which is always well stocked with plenty of snacks and fruits. Since fruits attract fruit flies, they tend to swarm around my desk. I must admit, it's pretty gross. Unfortunately, the fruit flies have followed me all the way to Australia, so I have decided to turn over a new leaf. Starting next week, I will not make my desk look like a fruit market any longer and scare off my new coworkers.
    

So there you have it. Sucky work people transcend all industries and countries. And midgets are funny, too. (That's what she said.)

Aussie Word of the Day:
Pack means PowerPoint presentation (or deck as Americans like to call it).
Session means meeting.
Example: I need you to create a pack for our session with the stakeholders next week. Have it on my desk by tomorrow.
Note: Since we're on the topic of work, I might as well teach you some corporate words I learned last week (these are used by Brits as well). When my boss told me to "create a pack," I was like, "a pack of what....wolves?"

Australia: Universal Healthcare

Watching Michael Moore's Sicko rendered me slightly skeptical of the existence and benefits of universal healthcare offered by many countries around the world, especially those less developed than the U.S. Fitting to a politically driven documentary, Sicko illustrates the atrocity of one government by exemplifying the superiority of many others. Now I am a true believer that universal healthcare does exist and it does work for the benefit of the citizens.

Australia's universal health insurance program known as Medicare is largely funded by tax revenue. It covers all Australians and pays for the entire cost of treatment in a public hospital and doctor visits. Every employee has to pay a percentage of their paychecks to Medicare. But if you elect to have private insurance, then you can file for a rebate that covers 30% of your premium. I'm sure there are shortcomings to Medicare, but just to be able to see a doctor without ripping a new butthole is enough for me to say YES to universal healthcare.

Back on the home front, John McCain is campaigning for putting "families in charge" of their healthcare, which is simply masking his message of "No you poor saps! If I'm elected President, we will never pay for your healthcare. So what if our children are starving and our families can't afford gas or health insurance? We have other priorities like winning a pissing contest with the rest of the world. Grrrrr! Oh I'm so old I could die."

Besides universal healthcare, you know what else Australian citizens receive? Expectant mothers are entitled to one year of unpaid leave and are guaranteed their former jobs upon their return to the workforce. If you are a public school teacher here, you can take three years of unpaid leave. Compare 52 weeks that Aussie mums get to spend with their newborn as opposed to a pathetic 6 weeks that American mommies are allowed. Good thing I don't plan to be a mother (unless I get knocked up and have a shotgun wedding.)

Aussie Word of the Day:
Whinge means to complain and bitch.
Example: Whinge whinge whinge! If Australia is so great, then MOVE there! [Something I may expect someone to say to me after reading my blog.]

Australia: First Day of School

The weekend before last marked the end of my "summer vacation" as I made the final countdown to the first day of school. A bunch of us drove a couple hours down the coast to the Peninsula where Ben's friend has a commodious beach house with over twenty beds. We shopped at the market, strolled on the beach, ate fish and chips, and played games until 4 am. The relaxing weekend, though cloudy, ended too quickly and I soon found myself feeling excited and nervous at the same time: What am I going to wear? Who am I going to eat lunch with? I am the new kid in school and have to make the best first impression.

Dressed in black from head-to-toe, I blended right in with the rest of the corporate drones rushing to get to work on a busy Monday morning in the CBD (Melbourne's Central Business District). Australian corporate culture is similar to ours, at least at first glance, so there is not much to report there. When I attended my first meeting, however, I felt like I was watching a foreign film where the subtitles only appeared 50% of the time. My naivete led me to believe that I had mastered Aussie English by hanging out with locals but I was wrong: professional Aussie English is a whole new language, especially when it is delivered at lightning speed and heavily peppered with esoteric bank jargon and acronyms. As for the social scene, there isn't much of one, at least not on my floor. Everyone I've met so far is friendly, but they are buried deep in their own projects that I've had no one to play with. This is so different from the instant popularity I have taken for granted whenever I join a new project. It's no fun being the new girl with no friends.

Between my job and my usual nightly plans, I have to multi-task every chance I get: reading the paper while on the short 6-minute train ride, checking email while eating lunch at my desk, and brushing my teeth while having sex...I haven't even had time to take a shit. There is simply not enough time in the day to work and play. But I do have to suck it up for at least 3 months until my contract ends so I can make as much money as I can to support our lifestyle. Seems that the little yuppie sitting on my right shoulder has won this battle against the little hippie sitting on my left. Thank goodness for my stay-at-home boyfriend who cooks me breakfast every morning and tends to my every need. He has officially been upgraded from a manwhore to house husband while I bring home the proverbial bacon (vegetarian).

Pictures: Portsea Pub. Beach. Crazy Jenga.

Aussie Phrase of the Day:

Dob in a Hoon means to report (dob in) a reckless driver (hoon).

Example: Slow down you crazy hoon or I'm dobbing on you!

Explanation: Billboards are all over highways with the above phrase and a phone number as a part of the government's campaign to warn against dangerous driving.

Australia: Welcome to the World of Contracting

After five weeks of job search where my emotions often oscillated between disappointment and hope, frustration and determination, I finally landed a job and I start next Monday! Just when I was about to throw in the towel, I received not one, not two, but three offers in the span of five days. It must have had something to do with my haircut. (My superstitious nature led me to believe that bad luck was weighing me down in the form of my split-end-ridden hair. And I was right!) The past two weeks post-haircut have been particularly crucial as events unfolded that thrusted me into the world of contracting whether I was ready or not. I am discovering for myself just how tenuous the job market is and if you don't play your cards right, you may start off with three offers but end up with none. This was the process I went through that finally got me a job (Cliffs Notes version so you don't fall asleep on your keyboard):

• Offer #1: When I read the job description for a 6-month contract at a women's hospital, I was beside myself because it was everything I was passionate about and would take my career to the next level. I applied online, got a call back, and went into Vagina Hospital* for an interview. Everything went beyond smoothly on both sides until the very end when they told me the salary would be a bag of peanuts. I quickly did the math in my head and realized that my daily rate would be 2 peanuts a day which is precisely half of my usual rate of 4. Then they quickly corrected my math, "That's the per annum salary so it would be cut in half for a 6-month contract." Although the voice in my head was screaming, "EXQUEEZE ME? I'd be working for one measly unsalted peanut a day?" I was able to compose myself and feign enthusiasm nonetheless.
• Offer #2: A recruiter I interviewed with several weeks ago finally called me back and asked me to meet with the client, a car accident insurance agency, for a less challenging role. Car Wreck Inc. and I met at a cafe for about 20 minutes and they wanted me to start the following week. The pay would be 3 peanuts a day.
• Offer #3: A friend of mine introduced me to Pimps R Us, the company she works for; after weeks of not hearing back, they found me a position at The Bank - one of Australia's biggest financial institutions. The Bank liked what I did at another bank in Tokyo and wanted to meet with me at yet another cafe which left me pondering, why do Aussies love to conduct interviews over coffee? Even though the job is not really what I wanted as it would be a career derailment, I'd get 4 peanuts a day.

Vagina Hospital was the first to offer me a position. Since I knew sooner or later I'd have other options, I had to gracefully turn it down via email. Then Car Wreck Inc. offered me a job two days after. But I wanted the big prize so I stalled and "accidentally" missed two phone calls from them asking me if I can start the next day.

3:00: I reluctantly called back and explained my situation that I was waiting for another contract which was longer duration and more pay. They gave me a deadline of 4:30 to make a decision or they will contact my backup to take my place. I then gave Pimps R Us the same deadline.

4:25: Pimps R Us called to inform me that The Bank will get back to them by 5 to discuss if and when I can start. My heart was pounding because I didn't have until 5. What if The Bank said they no longer needed my services and by then it'd be too late to get the job at Car Wreck Inc. At first I would've been happy with any job offer. But now that I actually had choices, I felt blessed and cursed at the same time by the predicament I was in.

4:30: I called Car Wreck Inc. and asked for another extension until 5:30 and they agreed.

5:20: Pimps R Us called and congratulated me on securing a 3-month contract at The Bank for 4 peanuts a day. I will start the following Monday.

5:25: Breathing a sigh of relief, I apologized to Car Wreck Inc. for giving them the run-around. At least their backup candidate will be happy to take my backup job.

Next Day: I went into the Pimps R Us office to sign the contract and even tried to negotiate for 4 and a half peanuts a day. I know - my balls are getting more steely by the minute. I didn't get the rate increase but it certainly didn't hurt to try. I then found out that the project I'd be leading at The Bank doesn't even start for another couple months, but they didn't want to lose me to another job so they are giving me a random assignment until the project starts. Human nature is funny isn't it? For weeks no one wanted to hire me. Now that Vagina took the first bite, everyone else wants a piece of me too. Well I'm certainly copacetic with the situation.

Finally, a big THANK YOU to Jimmy, a seasoned contractor, who has been such a great help throughout this whole ordeal. Also thanks to Justin and Ben who have been given a play-by-play without their consent every time something minor and major happens.

*Company names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

Pictures: Shrine of Remembrance on St. Kilda Rd.