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In the current issue of Pittsburgh Quarterly magazine, publisher Doug Heuck puts on both of his hats at once (Doug is also director of the Regional Indicators project at pittsburghtoday.org) to describe a forthcoming Pittsburgh Today project: an updated "Pittsburgh Survey."
The original Pittsburgh Survey, published in several volumes roughly 100 years ago, was a pioneering sociological study of living and working conditions in an urban, industrial community. (The Wikipedia entry is here.) The research was prompted by and was part and parcel of the Progressive Era reforms of the early 20th century. Its data supported decades of further research; the researchers who worked on it went on in many cases to influential careers.
Still, and despite the Progressive ambition, the results were revelatory. For the first time it became clear just how wealthy the Pittsburgh wealthy were -- and just how hard the rest of Pittsburghers, especially Pittsburgh's women and children, had it. I've written at Pittsblog before about what I call today's First World Pittsburgh, Second World Pittsburgh, and Third World Pittsburgh. It should come as no surprise to most people, but it may surprise them anyway, that Pittsburgh's current "tale of two [or three] cities" has its roots in the steel industry of a century ago. It is probably not an understatement to say that the Pittsburgh Survey changed not just how Pittsburgh was viewed, but how cities were viewed, and how they were studied, and how they were approached for public policy purposes. I want to look at Pittsburgh with fresh eyes, but doing that requires a supreme effort. And I've only been here for little more than a decade.
Doug's story about the new study is itself titled, "A Tale of two Pittsburghs." That headline refers, I'll bet, to "old Pittsburgh" and "new Pittsburgh," but it also should be understood to refer to the rich and to everyone else, revealed in all of their detail in the original Pittsburgh Study and waiting, one suspects, for revisiting, renewing, and updating today. The Pittsburgh Today study is a fantastic but daunting proposition. No one should assume that it reveal only good or even middling news. There is much to celebrate in modern Pittsburgh, but much of the Progressive agenda remains unfulfilled.
3 Ocak 2013 Perşembe
Powering Up Pittsburgh
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There is another new "innovation task force" on the runway: "PowerUp Pittsburgh."
From the Mayor's Office:
From the Post-Gazette:
From Essential Public Radio (formerly WDUQ):
1. The name. It sounds like a sports drink.
2. The players. Pittsburgh loves to appoint the usual C-level suspects to run task forces. The leaders of this one? Ravenstahl, Nordenberg, Cohon, Yablonsky. Heard of these guys before, have you? Where are the new folks?
3. The strategy. In the innovation economy, you can't pick winners. You've got to create fertile territory, make lots of resources available (money, innovation talent, and management talent) and place a lot of bets. And the "you" in that equation is rarely "the government." "The government" should mostly make the place attractive to the money, innovation talent, and management talent, which means having a public services infrastructure that is robust, well-managed, and not - er - essentially bankrupt. (That's a hugely simplified picture, but this is a blog, not a policy paper.) Once the table is set, let the economy do its thing.
4. The payoff. The innovation economy is not a jobs driver. In the PG, the Mayor is quoted:
Several years ago I gave a presentation at a University of Pittsburgh Faculty Senate plenary session on innovation and tech transfer. The Chancellor -- who in my view has done amazing things for Pitt -- sat in the front row. I put up a big slide of an old wagon wheel -- a metaphor for a hub-and-spoke industrial system. I said that this was old, out-dated thinking. I followed that with a graphic of a network: lots of nodes and hubs, lots of connections criss-crossing, with no clear center. I said that this was the future of technology-based economic development: growth that comes from the bottom up (and from the sides in, and out), not from the top down. The university needs to understand and play its many roles in that networked system: taking in and supporting high quality faculty and students, taking research dollars (across many units of the university, some in partnership with state and especially federal governments, some in partnership with industry), and distributing faculty effort, trained students, and research itself (some via patenting and licensing, some via industry partnerships, some via good old-fashioned sharing of disinterested basic research). And then circulating all of these things, in lots of different combinations; the university is not a linear production enterprise. Apple Inc. is the long-term *output* of a diverse innovation economy; it is not the *input* to a diverse innovation economy.
Among the biggest impacts that a giant not-for-profit such as Pitt can have in its own backyard isn't via research in/research out -- but via local spending: employment, employment taxes, local procurement (space and materials), and payments in lieu of the real estate taxes that the university is not required to pay. If PUP really wants to make a difference in the city's neighborhoods, it would work on getting Pittsburgh's tax-exempt not-for-profit giants to work at pumping dollars directly into the city's and region's tax coffers.
From the Mayor's Office:
The purpose of PowerUp Pittsburgh is to accelerate the commercialization of tech innovation activities to create jobs, particularly in underserved neighborhoods around Pittsburgh. It is a collaborative strategy that will bring together a wide range of participants to ensure that community resources – research and innovation, grant funding, government policies, corporate and philanthropic dollars – are aligned to take commercialization activities from the Oakland hub to spokes across the city.
The strategy will include:
- The creation of PowerUp Pittsburgh, including a university-funded director position to coordinate the broad regional effort;
- The creation of a dedicated Director of Innovation position at the URA to serve as a liaison to innovation, technology, and new economy based companies;
- The formation of the Pittsburgh Innovation Economic Panel;
- Efforts to enhance tech transfer at the Universities;
- Coordinated regional applications to numerous federal programs;
- And an effort to leverage the Oakland technology economy with numerous physical incubation spokes in Pittsburgh neighborhoods, including a major spoke in Hazelwood.
From the Post-Gazette:
Mr. Ravenstahl said he envisions a "hub-and-spoke" system with research and entrepreneurship in Oakland -- the city's university and hospital corridor -- spilling into other neighborhoods. The initiative complements his efforts to extend a spate of residential and commercial development and other improvements, the so-called Third Renaissance, from Downtown into the neighborhoods.
From Essential Public Radio (formerly WDUQ):
William Generett, Executive Director of the Pittsburgh Central Keystone Innovation Zone, said Pittsburgh has done well recently. “One thing that disturbs me is how bad our African American population is doing here”, said Generett. “African Americans make up about 27% of the city’s population and our data shows this group is one of the poorest African American groups in the country. So a lot of our work today needs to be connecting the group to the benefits of the innovation economy.”It's my nature to be skeptical of things like this. I was skeptical of the Mayor's tech task force, launched with a lot of fanfare last December. I think that the last ten months -- even the launch of "PowerUp Pittsburgh" -- confirms that the skepticism was warranted. I won't be quite as critical here. I hope that something good comes out of PUP. But here are reasons to be skeptical -- again:
1. The name. It sounds like a sports drink.
2. The players. Pittsburgh loves to appoint the usual C-level suspects to run task forces. The leaders of this one? Ravenstahl, Nordenberg, Cohon, Yablonsky. Heard of these guys before, have you? Where are the new folks?
3. The strategy. In the innovation economy, you can't pick winners. You've got to create fertile territory, make lots of resources available (money, innovation talent, and management talent) and place a lot of bets. And the "you" in that equation is rarely "the government." "The government" should mostly make the place attractive to the money, innovation talent, and management talent, which means having a public services infrastructure that is robust, well-managed, and not - er - essentially bankrupt. (That's a hugely simplified picture, but this is a blog, not a policy paper.) Once the table is set, let the economy do its thing.
4. The payoff. The innovation economy is not a jobs driver. In the PG, the Mayor is quoted:
Speakers at Thursday's news conference didn't give any specific goals for job-creation, but Mr. Ravenstahl said he expects to see vacant storefronts used for business start-ups and research ventures.If that's the litmus test, then the PUP is setting itself up for failure. The innovation economy is an ideas and new ventures driver first, and a jobs driver only second - and only over the long term. There are references in the news coverage to finding and unleashing the next Steve Jobs -- in Pittsburgh. That's an awesome vision. Yet Apple Computer (now Apple Inc.) was hardly a US jobs behemoth in its first incarnation. Within five years of its founding, Apple had 1,000 employees; a similar number in Pittsburgh today would make a huge impact here. Where did Apple employees work? They weren't all in Cupertino; in fact, a large number of them weren't. Apple had manufacturing facilities in California, Texas, and Colorado -- and India, Ireland, and Singapore. And its growth wasn't sustained. After Jobs was forced out, the company came perilously close to crashing and burning in the mid-1990s. It's on top of the world today -- outsourcing much of its manufacturing to China. The US jobs are, on the whole, at the high end, not the neighborhood and store-front (or garage and warehouse and wet lab) jobs that start-ups typically generate. Apple is proposing to consolidate its management and marketing at a new Cupertino headquarters. The expected employment at the new facility? 13,000 people. Let us hope that Pittsburgh finds a Steve Jobs today - and ends up with 13,000 people in a beautiful office building 35 years from now.
"That will kind of be the litmus test for me -- which neighborhoods are experiencing jobs, which neighborhoods are experiencing opportunity," he said.
Several years ago I gave a presentation at a University of Pittsburgh Faculty Senate plenary session on innovation and tech transfer. The Chancellor -- who in my view has done amazing things for Pitt -- sat in the front row. I put up a big slide of an old wagon wheel -- a metaphor for a hub-and-spoke industrial system. I said that this was old, out-dated thinking. I followed that with a graphic of a network: lots of nodes and hubs, lots of connections criss-crossing, with no clear center. I said that this was the future of technology-based economic development: growth that comes from the bottom up (and from the sides in, and out), not from the top down. The university needs to understand and play its many roles in that networked system: taking in and supporting high quality faculty and students, taking research dollars (across many units of the university, some in partnership with state and especially federal governments, some in partnership with industry), and distributing faculty effort, trained students, and research itself (some via patenting and licensing, some via industry partnerships, some via good old-fashioned sharing of disinterested basic research). And then circulating all of these things, in lots of different combinations; the university is not a linear production enterprise. Apple Inc. is the long-term *output* of a diverse innovation economy; it is not the *input* to a diverse innovation economy.
Among the biggest impacts that a giant not-for-profit such as Pitt can have in its own backyard isn't via research in/research out -- but via local spending: employment, employment taxes, local procurement (space and materials), and payments in lieu of the real estate taxes that the university is not required to pay. If PUP really wants to make a difference in the city's neighborhoods, it would work on getting Pittsburgh's tax-exempt not-for-profit giants to work at pumping dollars directly into the city's and region's tax coffers.
Pittsburgh's Mind Bank
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A profile of East Liberty in the upscale British travel/culture/lifestyle magazine "Monocle" (paywalled here; an expat friend sent me the full text) asks:
Is East Liberty America's Next Silicon Valley?
The answer: a qualified "maybe." Ah, the Fourth Estate.
The piece includes a fabulous quote at the end of the following paragraph, from the Warhol's Eric Shiner. The excerpt is an accurate and pithy rejoinder to the misleading "Pittsburgh rebuilt itself!" narrative.
Is East Liberty America's Next Silicon Valley?
The answer: a qualified "maybe." Ah, the Fourth Estate.
The piece includes a fabulous quote at the end of the following paragraph, from the Warhol's Eric Shiner. The excerpt is an accurate and pithy rejoinder to the misleading "Pittsburgh rebuilt itself!" narrative.
Buoyed by vibrant medical and academic sectors, and propped-up by well-financed family foundations, a leaner and increasingly greener Pittsburgh has emerged as a low cost/high quality of life location for knowledge industry start-ups and venture capital. As Andy Warhol Museum director Eric Shiner explains of his home town, “Although my generation all left after college, the universities and rich cultural institutions helped keep the city’s mind bank alive.
The Ancient Inhabitants of Pitt's Burg
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WASHINGTON—A team of leading archaeologists announced Monday they had uncovered the remains of an ancient job-creating race that, at the peak of its civilization, may have provided occupations for hundreds of thousands of humans in the American Northeast and Midwest.Link to the full story.
...
With his team having so far cataloged the decaying ruins of more than 400 edifices believed to have been used solely for human employment, Mueller said he now believes the inhabitants of mid-20th-century North America may have built their territory—in particular, the Great Lakes region and northern Appalachia—into one of the most advanced and prosperous civilizations in the world.
Numerous scholars told reporters the findings have challenged everything they thought they knew about the fundamental organization of human societies, calling it "staggering" and "almost unbelievable" that a culture predating our own had been able to provide work to nearly every person who sought it.
"By today's standards, the job creators' society was highly unusual," anthropologist Carla Delgado of the Smithsonian Institution said. "One of its more bizarre customs involved workers being employed at the same job at the same location day in and day out for their entire adult lives. It was grueling, perhaps, but astonishingly, some of these individuals were able to set aside part of their earnings for the future, slowly saving money with the hope of improving the prospects of their offspring."
"The amazing part is, this bafflingly high level of economic security went on for generations," Delgado added.
Archaeologists who participated in digs on the sites described ghostly scenes of intact but empty homes, halted conveyor belts, and crumbling storehouses still full of the lost people's signature "auto parts."
By examining recovered artifacts, they have reportedly been able to decipher the names of what they speculate must have been the grandest settlements from the height of the job creators' empire: cities known among the ancients as Gary, Lansing, Cleve-Land, Sandusky, and Pitt's Burg.
Pittsburgh's Decline v. The Decline of Steel
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Chris B. appears to be running out of patience with the conventional history of modern Pittsburgh, which blames the losses of jobs and wealth in steel towns such as Braddock squarely on the shoulders of the decline of the steel industry. As the data shows, and as Chris repeats over and over, the decline of places like Braddock is a complex tale. It got started long before steel started to slide, and it has all kinds of causes, some steel-related, some not.
Relevant posts:
The Blame Game (Nov. 22 2011)
Braddock mythos redux (Oct. 18 2009)
Speaking of real estate - Braddock (Dec. 1 2008)
Relevant posts:
The Blame Game (Nov. 22 2011)
Braddock mythos redux (Oct. 18 2009)
Speaking of real estate - Braddock (Dec. 1 2008)
2 Ocak 2013 Çarşamba
First day on the job - & some things I noticed.
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I started a new job today. It's a part time project management role to develop a simulated learning environment in the mental health context - all subjects I'm very interested in. I'm still doing everything else too!
On one hand it's been a while since I had a first day at work; on the other hand, everytime I turn up to work with a new client or a new group of people, it's almost like the first day at work.
My welcome was warm and people were expecting me. They even knew what I was there to do. The organisation I'm working with has a very strong sense of purpose and clarity about it's culture and values. It's wonderful to step into such a strong culture.
The setting is great - right near two intersecting tram routes about five stops from the CBD. And there's this:
On my way to work, the old steam puffer that was en route to St Vincent's Hospital with a cargo of Christmas gifts went past. I was at the tram stop on St Kilda Road between Federation Square and Flinders Street Station. It was travelling very slowly and had slowed traffic coming over the Westgate Bridge during the morning peak. (I catch public transport, so wasn't affected, but it had been all over the radio.)
After dinner in Chinatown last night, I discovered the water dragon sculpture which adorns the facade of the Chinese Museum. It is made from recycled plastic bottles. Its body ripples up about three storeys. i think it's wonderful.
On one hand it's been a while since I had a first day at work; on the other hand, everytime I turn up to work with a new client or a new group of people, it's almost like the first day at work.
My welcome was warm and people were expecting me. They even knew what I was there to do. The organisation I'm working with has a very strong sense of purpose and clarity about it's culture and values. It's wonderful to step into such a strong culture.
The setting is great - right near two intersecting tram routes about five stops from the CBD. And there's this:
 |
| Courtyard garden at my new workplace - complete with tables, umbrellas and general loveliness. (c) divacultura 2012 |
 |
| There is a sign on the back proclaiming this as a :slow moving vehicle". Very accurate (c) divacultura 2012 |
After dinner in Chinatown last night, I discovered the water dragon sculpture which adorns the facade of the Chinese Museum. It is made from recycled plastic bottles. Its body ripples up about three storeys. i think it's wonderful.
 |
| Water dragon (c) divacultura 2012 |
Public transport may be a war zone, but the traffic worse.
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Standing at the tram stop in the rain and the wind at 5:05pm this evening, was not the most miserable place I could have been. Even if I was waiting for about 10 minutes. You see, during that time, traffic coming from five directions converged and nothing moved. There was a free tourist shuttle bus that moved about a metre in those ten minutes.
I was finishing my second day of my new project and I am still gaining familiarity with the rhythms of a different part of town. There are some magnificent eucalypts in the street and their leaves had dropped to the ground in the wind and rain. As I stepped on them, I was blessed with the heavenly smell of eucalyptus. For a moment, I believed that I was deep in the bush. Then I looked up and saw the traffic snarl. Despite the central location which is extremely well served by public transport, I was advised that there was parking space for me if I wished to drive. Looking at the gridlock, I wondered why anyone would.
A woman in the tea room yesterday was talking about the fact that she had had to catch public transport to work that day. I congratulated her. She looked at me as though I was someone who had escaped from a secure facility and when I added that I am an advocate of public transport I swear I could see her fumbling for the speed dial on her phone. She looked at me as though I was Satan. She muttered something under her breath which sounded like, "You're doomed. Get thee back Satan" but given the Christian values of the organisation was probably something like "it's okay when it works". I agree.
(I also made new friends by revealing my membership of the myki customer experience panel. This means I give feedback about the system each week. I was able to educate a couple of people about the benefits of registering their myki so that any balance on the card is protected if the card is lost or stolen. Anyway, when you're the new kid on the block, everyone's a potential new friend. Then you realise who's in what faction and where the power lies a few weeks later and wish you hadn't been so eager.)
Anyway, there I am in the traffic, in the rain and the wind at the tramstop. I did have an umbrella, so that kept my earlobes dry at least, but in the rain and the wind the rest of me was a lost cause.
As our eagerly anticipated tram turned the corner, it was like the hero appearing on the horizon at sunset to rescue the people. I swear I heard music and everything. Symphonic, with trumpets I think, but definitely symphonic. And the tram arrived and it was packed. Only the most desperate would clamber aboard and inhale the air, thick with the scent of wet dog and risk being turned into a wet shiskabab by some idiot with a golf umbrella the size of a circus tent.
I sighed. I was no desperadao. I lifted my head and squinted towards the horizon (I probably didn't squint. It wasn't sunny. If it was sunny I would have had my sunglasses on, thus removing any need to squint. Plus, I'm opposed to squinting from a cosmetic point of view. Although, maybe I squinted because I was shielding my eyeballs from the needle-like shards of rain.) Another had appeared. Tram that is, in case I distracted you. In the tradition of Melbourne trams, its only passenger seemed to be the driver and a couple of damp tumbleweeds and the guy up the back who smelt really bad, but not like a wet dog. Compared to that smell, I would happily buy an atomiser of Eau de Wet Dog and spray it all over. That might be why the tram was empty.
We piled on. I was made into a wet shiskabab by an idiot with a backpack and a golf umbrella the size of a parachute. There was so much water I managed to wash my hands and refresh my face. If I had my toothbrush in my handbag I probably would have whipped it out.
I stepped off the tram at Flinders Street station a few minutes later and expected to be home within 20 minutes. I failed to consider that trains apparently don't like working in the rain. Police operations in some outlying suburb on the other side of town compound the problem. I found a seat on the platform out of the wind and the rain and tried to concentrate on my book while listening to announcements about delayed trains which seemed to suggest that the Mayans may have been right about the end of the world.
I hope not. I really want to finish the book I'm reading.
I was finishing my second day of my new project and I am still gaining familiarity with the rhythms of a different part of town. There are some magnificent eucalypts in the street and their leaves had dropped to the ground in the wind and rain. As I stepped on them, I was blessed with the heavenly smell of eucalyptus. For a moment, I believed that I was deep in the bush. Then I looked up and saw the traffic snarl. Despite the central location which is extremely well served by public transport, I was advised that there was parking space for me if I wished to drive. Looking at the gridlock, I wondered why anyone would.
A woman in the tea room yesterday was talking about the fact that she had had to catch public transport to work that day. I congratulated her. She looked at me as though I was someone who had escaped from a secure facility and when I added that I am an advocate of public transport I swear I could see her fumbling for the speed dial on her phone. She looked at me as though I was Satan. She muttered something under her breath which sounded like, "You're doomed. Get thee back Satan" but given the Christian values of the organisation was probably something like "it's okay when it works". I agree.
(I also made new friends by revealing my membership of the myki customer experience panel. This means I give feedback about the system each week. I was able to educate a couple of people about the benefits of registering their myki so that any balance on the card is protected if the card is lost or stolen. Anyway, when you're the new kid on the block, everyone's a potential new friend. Then you realise who's in what faction and where the power lies a few weeks later and wish you hadn't been so eager.)
Anyway, there I am in the traffic, in the rain and the wind at the tramstop. I did have an umbrella, so that kept my earlobes dry at least, but in the rain and the wind the rest of me was a lost cause.
As our eagerly anticipated tram turned the corner, it was like the hero appearing on the horizon at sunset to rescue the people. I swear I heard music and everything. Symphonic, with trumpets I think, but definitely symphonic. And the tram arrived and it was packed. Only the most desperate would clamber aboard and inhale the air, thick with the scent of wet dog and risk being turned into a wet shiskabab by some idiot with a golf umbrella the size of a circus tent.
I sighed. I was no desperadao. I lifted my head and squinted towards the horizon (I probably didn't squint. It wasn't sunny. If it was sunny I would have had my sunglasses on, thus removing any need to squint. Plus, I'm opposed to squinting from a cosmetic point of view. Although, maybe I squinted because I was shielding my eyeballs from the needle-like shards of rain.) Another had appeared. Tram that is, in case I distracted you. In the tradition of Melbourne trams, its only passenger seemed to be the driver and a couple of damp tumbleweeds and the guy up the back who smelt really bad, but not like a wet dog. Compared to that smell, I would happily buy an atomiser of Eau de Wet Dog and spray it all over. That might be why the tram was empty.
We piled on. I was made into a wet shiskabab by an idiot with a backpack and a golf umbrella the size of a parachute. There was so much water I managed to wash my hands and refresh my face. If I had my toothbrush in my handbag I probably would have whipped it out.
I stepped off the tram at Flinders Street station a few minutes later and expected to be home within 20 minutes. I failed to consider that trains apparently don't like working in the rain. Police operations in some outlying suburb on the other side of town compound the problem. I found a seat on the platform out of the wind and the rain and tried to concentrate on my book while listening to announcements about delayed trains which seemed to suggest that the Mayans may have been right about the end of the world.
I hope not. I really want to finish the book I'm reading.
Wardrobe malfunction of the intimate kind - now I understand the term "travelling pants".
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This post is about underwear. My underwear. Specifically, my underpants, knickers, undies, panties, grundies, pantaloons, bloomers - whatever name you prefer to give them.
I had a very unhappy relationship with them today. Not for the whole day. The bad behaviour specifically commenced as I arrived at the train station. To be clear, the problems started when I was just far enough from home to make turning back and throwing the evil creatures (should that be plural or singular?) on the fire. I don't actually have a fire to throw them on. It would be a metaphorical fire - probably just the bin, but I would have flames of anger in my eyes as I put them there. Alternatively they would have gone in the laundry basket, eventually been washed, and then made their way back to my underwear drawer. From this drawer I would pull them out again in a few weeks' time and stare at them with narrowed eyes, trying to remember whether this was the badly behaved pair, or just another pair that looks like any other pair. My memory would fail and I would put them on.
This is clearly what happened this morning. I'm fairly certain that I've spent at least one day before doing battle with my under garments.
The morning started like any other - I woke up to the alarm, headed straight for the shower, put my pyjamas back on to eat breakfast, do my teeth, hair and makeup, before finally putting my clothes on. Now the underpants in question looked normal in the beginning. Even after I put them on and walked around the house, everything was fine. There was NO SIGN of what was to come. Kind of like a relationship where everyone's on their best behaviour in the beginning and it's all down hill from there.
Just as I reached the train station and began walking up the steps to the pedestrian overpass, the waistband started to roll. I learned today that a rolling pantie waistband is like a snowball - it gathers momentum and there's little that can be done about it. This was a fairly dangerous position to be in, considering the rest of my outfit comprised of a dress. If the snowball reached the bottom of the mountain, so to speak, the potential for surprise was great.
I took the opportunity of what I characterised as the relative privacy of the pedestrian overpass to readjust. I like to call this manoeuvre "hoiking". For example: "Taking cover between the galvanised fencing of the pedestrian overpass, I hoiked my underpants up, once and for all." The last part of this sentence is just wishful thinking. I spent the day hoiking. It was disconcerting. And not just for me. I should also confirm that the privacy of the pedestrian overpass is relative to thinking that when you're driving your car and picking your nose, no one can see you.
By the time I arrived at my place of work for the day, I was fairly certain that I hadn't read the instructions properly and had somehow put them on upside down. The other possibility was that they were haunted. I don't even want to contemplate that.
As a result of my problem, I was extremely efficient. I spent the day glued to my desk chair and achieved quite a bit. The only time I left my desk was for the three hour Christmas lunch function we had today. I quickly found a chair at a table and was not going to move. Until I discovered the Kris Kringle routine and realised that it would involve me walking to the Christmas tree in front of fifty of my new colleagues, while my underpants continued their practical joke. I seriously contemplated removing them all together, but the combination of wearing a white dress and the presence of nuns suggested that this was not a solution.
I devised a better one. I would grip my waist with my forearms and just hold everything up and together. This meant it was extremely difficult to collect a gift from under the tree, but because I'm new, I think everyone was beating themselves up about not noticing the weird arm disability that I have. Everyone was too polite to say anything. I hope prayers are being said in the name of my healing.
I planned to rip these traitorous knickers off as soon as I arrived home, but the phone rang and I was distracted. I'm STILL WEARING THEM. Some hours later. They seem to only misbehave when I go out. Oh and the cut is totally misnamed. On the label it says "hipsters". In my book, that means they're meant to wrap around the hips, not the knees - or worse, the ankles! I'm pretty sure "anklets" are socks and I've never HEARD of "kneesters". Although they sound more hip than they should. Perhaps I should market them for the hipsters to wear with their drop crotch jeans.
And I can't believe there was a film called "The sisterhood of the travelling pants". Who would make a movie about this?
I had a very unhappy relationship with them today. Not for the whole day. The bad behaviour specifically commenced as I arrived at the train station. To be clear, the problems started when I was just far enough from home to make turning back and throwing the evil creatures (should that be plural or singular?) on the fire. I don't actually have a fire to throw them on. It would be a metaphorical fire - probably just the bin, but I would have flames of anger in my eyes as I put them there. Alternatively they would have gone in the laundry basket, eventually been washed, and then made their way back to my underwear drawer. From this drawer I would pull them out again in a few weeks' time and stare at them with narrowed eyes, trying to remember whether this was the badly behaved pair, or just another pair that looks like any other pair. My memory would fail and I would put them on.
This is clearly what happened this morning. I'm fairly certain that I've spent at least one day before doing battle with my under garments.
The morning started like any other - I woke up to the alarm, headed straight for the shower, put my pyjamas back on to eat breakfast, do my teeth, hair and makeup, before finally putting my clothes on. Now the underpants in question looked normal in the beginning. Even after I put them on and walked around the house, everything was fine. There was NO SIGN of what was to come. Kind of like a relationship where everyone's on their best behaviour in the beginning and it's all down hill from there.
Just as I reached the train station and began walking up the steps to the pedestrian overpass, the waistband started to roll. I learned today that a rolling pantie waistband is like a snowball - it gathers momentum and there's little that can be done about it. This was a fairly dangerous position to be in, considering the rest of my outfit comprised of a dress. If the snowball reached the bottom of the mountain, so to speak, the potential for surprise was great.
I took the opportunity of what I characterised as the relative privacy of the pedestrian overpass to readjust. I like to call this manoeuvre "hoiking". For example: "Taking cover between the galvanised fencing of the pedestrian overpass, I hoiked my underpants up, once and for all." The last part of this sentence is just wishful thinking. I spent the day hoiking. It was disconcerting. And not just for me. I should also confirm that the privacy of the pedestrian overpass is relative to thinking that when you're driving your car and picking your nose, no one can see you.
By the time I arrived at my place of work for the day, I was fairly certain that I hadn't read the instructions properly and had somehow put them on upside down. The other possibility was that they were haunted. I don't even want to contemplate that.
As a result of my problem, I was extremely efficient. I spent the day glued to my desk chair and achieved quite a bit. The only time I left my desk was for the three hour Christmas lunch function we had today. I quickly found a chair at a table and was not going to move. Until I discovered the Kris Kringle routine and realised that it would involve me walking to the Christmas tree in front of fifty of my new colleagues, while my underpants continued their practical joke. I seriously contemplated removing them all together, but the combination of wearing a white dress and the presence of nuns suggested that this was not a solution.
I devised a better one. I would grip my waist with my forearms and just hold everything up and together. This meant it was extremely difficult to collect a gift from under the tree, but because I'm new, I think everyone was beating themselves up about not noticing the weird arm disability that I have. Everyone was too polite to say anything. I hope prayers are being said in the name of my healing.
I planned to rip these traitorous knickers off as soon as I arrived home, but the phone rang and I was distracted. I'm STILL WEARING THEM. Some hours later. They seem to only misbehave when I go out. Oh and the cut is totally misnamed. On the label it says "hipsters". In my book, that means they're meant to wrap around the hips, not the knees - or worse, the ankles! I'm pretty sure "anklets" are socks and I've never HEARD of "kneesters". Although they sound more hip than they should. Perhaps I should market them for the hipsters to wear with their drop crotch jeans.
And I can't believe there was a film called "The sisterhood of the travelling pants". Who would make a movie about this?
Quitting sugar - Christmas party challenge
To contact us Click HERE
Yesterday there was a Christmas lunch at my new workplace. Everyone brought food, including an incredible array of desserts. There was everything from pavlova to cheesecake, strawberry moose to cupcakes, as well as Christmas pudding and custard. All home made by staff.
I used to love cheesecake and pavlova, but this week, I wasn't even tempted! When I was asked why I wasn't having dessert, I patiently explained that I don't eat sugar. I'm becoming accustomed to the reactions now - they range from the innocuous to the intense looks that suggest people think you are weird and the mocking statements. These statements usually sound something like, "You can't give up sugar!" or "Come on! It's Christmas! A little bit won't hurt you!" or "Oh yeah...is that some strange new diet fad?"
I'm refining my reaction to this. Sometimes a polite refusal is sufficient. With some people this just puts more fuel on the fire. If I've been asked a question, I usually ask the other person whether they are interested in my rationale for giving up sugar. If they say they are, then I'll give them a quick summary of why sugar is bad. If they're not interested in finding out I'll usually just shrug and remind them that I'm not questioning or judging their food choices.
So there I was, surrounded by sugar and it wasn't even difficult to resist! It's seven weeks since I've had sugar and it's very exciting and reassuring to know that my body and my mind have adjusted and I just don't want it anymore. Interestingly, probably the hardest thing for me to resist were the juicy fresh cherries!
It would be difficult to quit sugar just before Christmas and be in the first two weeks of withdrawal right now. I think I may have caved in and tried a piece of cheesecake if I'd been in that situation. I hope I wouldn't, but I think I might. Anyway, that's not the situation I'm in and that's good. My challenge is that I will be through the 8 week quit program and technically will be allowed to reintroduce sugar if I wish. I aim to stick with the cherries and avoid the pavlova.
What's your Christmas sugar avoidance strategy?
I used to love cheesecake and pavlova, but this week, I wasn't even tempted! When I was asked why I wasn't having dessert, I patiently explained that I don't eat sugar. I'm becoming accustomed to the reactions now - they range from the innocuous to the intense looks that suggest people think you are weird and the mocking statements. These statements usually sound something like, "You can't give up sugar!" or "Come on! It's Christmas! A little bit won't hurt you!" or "Oh yeah...is that some strange new diet fad?"
I'm refining my reaction to this. Sometimes a polite refusal is sufficient. With some people this just puts more fuel on the fire. If I've been asked a question, I usually ask the other person whether they are interested in my rationale for giving up sugar. If they say they are, then I'll give them a quick summary of why sugar is bad. If they're not interested in finding out I'll usually just shrug and remind them that I'm not questioning or judging their food choices.
So there I was, surrounded by sugar and it wasn't even difficult to resist! It's seven weeks since I've had sugar and it's very exciting and reassuring to know that my body and my mind have adjusted and I just don't want it anymore. Interestingly, probably the hardest thing for me to resist were the juicy fresh cherries!
It would be difficult to quit sugar just before Christmas and be in the first two weeks of withdrawal right now. I think I may have caved in and tried a piece of cheesecake if I'd been in that situation. I hope I wouldn't, but I think I might. Anyway, that's not the situation I'm in and that's good. My challenge is that I will be through the 8 week quit program and technically will be allowed to reintroduce sugar if I wish. I aim to stick with the cherries and avoid the pavlova.
What's your Christmas sugar avoidance strategy?
Something in the air?
To contact us Click HERE
Christmas could be an opportunity for people to be nice to each other. For strangers to smile at others in the street. For people to stand aside and let someone pass. For us to look up and see each other! It would be a Christmas miracle.
I've had the dubious pleasure over the last couple of weeks of needing to keep conventional office hours for a particular project on which I'm working. This has involved hitting the train and Flinders Street Station right in the middle of the morning peak. Once I've survived that first odyssey, I then make my way to what might be the busiest tram stop in Melbourne. On a platform that barely holds the crush, I wait for the number 1 tram to South Melbourne Beach as I am elbowed and jostled by the surge. There's only one thing worse than this surge - the angry surge when the tram is too packed and people are left behind. It's not a long wait between trams at that time of the morning, but why wait two extra minutes where you will endure the elbows and glares of your fellow travellers, when you could be pressed to a stranger's arm pit with one side of your face and mashed against the door with the other?
There is always a queue to exit Flinders Street Station at the top end, the end nearest the Yarra River. That side still has old metcard gates that are slow to work with the myki card and it can take a long time to get through. I figure everyone's in the same boat, so you just need to be patient and wait your turn. This view is not shared by everyone in Melbourne. I know! Shocking to discover!
I joined a queue and while I was waiting one of the staff came and switched the gate next to me so that we could use it to exit. (Before he did this it was set so that only people wanting to come in could use it.) As it happened, I was able to step up and be the first person in that line. (No, I did not shoulder charge anyone, I just stepped across and that's how it worked out.) I touched my myki to the reader and nothing at all happened. I held it still, bearing in mind the detailed operating instructions every myki user must know - I didn't swipe, wave, jiggle, show, tap or fling. I touched and held still. Nothing.
Behind me I heard a woman's voice. Apparently she'd been screaming at me for the last three seconds and I only noticed when she poked me in the back. "GO THROUGH! Can't you just GO THROUGH? LADY? GO THROUGH!!!!!"
I realised she was speaking to me. I turned and was about to explain that I needed to touch off to ensure I was charged correctly, but it was a bit hard with a fire breathing dragon behind me. I said nothing and stood my ground and touched my myki to the reader again. Mercifully, it worked and as I walked through, the dragon surged past still screaming at me to GO THROUGH! LADY!
I just shook my head. For goodness' sake.
"Some people!" I looked up. A young man had spoken. He looked at me sympathetically. I smiled.
"You heard that woman?" I asked.
"Yes! Can't believe that would happen in Melbourne."
"Maybe she's not from Melbourne. Maybe there's something in the air."
"Maybe there's something wrong with her."
"Well, there might be. So that's her problem."
"Yeah."
As I wished him an excellent day, we came face to face with dragon woman who had by now secured a wide perimeter around herself and was glaring at everyone. I felt the urge to say something - or elbow her out of the way - but decided to stay out of her way.
The last I saw of her she was burrowing her way onto an over crowded tram. Glaring at all in her path. I wondered how long it would take before she pushed someone too far.
******
I arrived home and discovered my crazy neighbour arguing with the very nice man who had spent the last two days replacing the old analogue television antennae with new digital ones. It had been a big job and Antennae Man was friendly and even-tempered. When Gottfried accused him of microwaving us, Antennae Man just continued repeating the words "television" and "reception". He slipped once and said "satellite" which led to a re-opening of the microwave question. Antenna Man regrouped quickly and went back to his mantra - "television", "reception". This time I noticed he was shaking his head.
I've had the dubious pleasure over the last couple of weeks of needing to keep conventional office hours for a particular project on which I'm working. This has involved hitting the train and Flinders Street Station right in the middle of the morning peak. Once I've survived that first odyssey, I then make my way to what might be the busiest tram stop in Melbourne. On a platform that barely holds the crush, I wait for the number 1 tram to South Melbourne Beach as I am elbowed and jostled by the surge. There's only one thing worse than this surge - the angry surge when the tram is too packed and people are left behind. It's not a long wait between trams at that time of the morning, but why wait two extra minutes where you will endure the elbows and glares of your fellow travellers, when you could be pressed to a stranger's arm pit with one side of your face and mashed against the door with the other?
There is always a queue to exit Flinders Street Station at the top end, the end nearest the Yarra River. That side still has old metcard gates that are slow to work with the myki card and it can take a long time to get through. I figure everyone's in the same boat, so you just need to be patient and wait your turn. This view is not shared by everyone in Melbourne. I know! Shocking to discover!
I joined a queue and while I was waiting one of the staff came and switched the gate next to me so that we could use it to exit. (Before he did this it was set so that only people wanting to come in could use it.) As it happened, I was able to step up and be the first person in that line. (No, I did not shoulder charge anyone, I just stepped across and that's how it worked out.) I touched my myki to the reader and nothing at all happened. I held it still, bearing in mind the detailed operating instructions every myki user must know - I didn't swipe, wave, jiggle, show, tap or fling. I touched and held still. Nothing.
Behind me I heard a woman's voice. Apparently she'd been screaming at me for the last three seconds and I only noticed when she poked me in the back. "GO THROUGH! Can't you just GO THROUGH? LADY? GO THROUGH!!!!!"
I realised she was speaking to me. I turned and was about to explain that I needed to touch off to ensure I was charged correctly, but it was a bit hard with a fire breathing dragon behind me. I said nothing and stood my ground and touched my myki to the reader again. Mercifully, it worked and as I walked through, the dragon surged past still screaming at me to GO THROUGH! LADY!
I just shook my head. For goodness' sake.
"Some people!" I looked up. A young man had spoken. He looked at me sympathetically. I smiled.
"You heard that woman?" I asked.
"Yes! Can't believe that would happen in Melbourne."
"Maybe she's not from Melbourne. Maybe there's something in the air."
"Maybe there's something wrong with her."
"Well, there might be. So that's her problem."
"Yeah."
As I wished him an excellent day, we came face to face with dragon woman who had by now secured a wide perimeter around herself and was glaring at everyone. I felt the urge to say something - or elbow her out of the way - but decided to stay out of her way.
The last I saw of her she was burrowing her way onto an over crowded tram. Glaring at all in her path. I wondered how long it would take before she pushed someone too far.
******
I arrived home and discovered my crazy neighbour arguing with the very nice man who had spent the last two days replacing the old analogue television antennae with new digital ones. It had been a big job and Antennae Man was friendly and even-tempered. When Gottfried accused him of microwaving us, Antennae Man just continued repeating the words "television" and "reception". He slipped once and said "satellite" which led to a re-opening of the microwave question. Antenna Man regrouped quickly and went back to his mantra - "television", "reception". This time I noticed he was shaking his head.
1 Ocak 2013 Salı
Change of scene, change of schedule
To contact us Click HERE
I'm writing this post from a desk with different view from what is usually in front of me. Usually I'm at my kitchen table with nothing but a wall in front of me. Today, I'm looking out at a paddock, with hills in the distance. There's a long green shed in the middle distance with a red container parked next to it. Occasionally I see vehicles go by on the highway. A little blue bird is standing in front of the window showing me its tail. Horses wander by and now I feel the softness of a cat as one winds its way around my ankles. The sky is cloudy. Some of them are black and heavy looking. There's a faint roll of thunder in the distance. Apart from that the only sounds are the ticking of a clock and the breathing of the air conditioner. And the sound of my typing.
Over the summer break, my posting won't be as frequent while I relax and regroup. I certainly won't be posting daily! The best way to make sure you don't miss a thing is to subscribe via email - that way you'll receive an email whenever I do post something and you'll know about it straight away. (There's a button over on the right hand side. Yes! Right there! Just type in your email address, click and go.)
If you need a fix, why not visit the archives and see what you can find? There's lots to read. Two of my personal favourites are a response to spam email I received in October last year:Love in the letterbox and The Rejection Letter. Another favourite is a result of an exercise in imagination: Journey to the tenth floor
There are also suggestions at the end of each post which link to other posts. Sometimes I just follow a trail and enjoy the journey. Or you can just look at the pictures. The Sunday Slideshow posts have lots! Start here.
Thank you to my readers - I just love knowing that you're out there. I love receiving your feedback and hearing your stories too. I've enjoyed making you smile and laugh. I've enjoyed provoking you. I've enjoyed the ability to occasionally give you things. I've enjoyed sharing my perspective of the world.
Walking around these days I notice more and more that people have their eyes down and are absorbed in their screens. I've made a conscious choice to be fully present in the world with my eyes up and my attention OUT THERE. This is why I notice so much and can share it with you.
Whatever you do at this time of year, I hope it brings you joy or gives someone else joy. Stay safe and happy reading!
The rain has just arrived. The hills are still bathed in sunlight in the distance and the shrubs outside are squeaking as they scrape against the windows. The thunder is rumbling more deeply and the birds have taken cover.
ETA: 10 minutes later: the rain is pelting and I can't see the hills or the long green shed. I can barely hear myself think over the sound of rain on the roof and windows. Bliss.
Over the summer break, my posting won't be as frequent while I relax and regroup. I certainly won't be posting daily! The best way to make sure you don't miss a thing is to subscribe via email - that way you'll receive an email whenever I do post something and you'll know about it straight away. (There's a button over on the right hand side. Yes! Right there! Just type in your email address, click and go.)
If you need a fix, why not visit the archives and see what you can find? There's lots to read. Two of my personal favourites are a response to spam email I received in October last year:Love in the letterbox and The Rejection Letter. Another favourite is a result of an exercise in imagination: Journey to the tenth floor
There are also suggestions at the end of each post which link to other posts. Sometimes I just follow a trail and enjoy the journey. Or you can just look at the pictures. The Sunday Slideshow posts have lots! Start here.
Thank you to my readers - I just love knowing that you're out there. I love receiving your feedback and hearing your stories too. I've enjoyed making you smile and laugh. I've enjoyed provoking you. I've enjoyed the ability to occasionally give you things. I've enjoyed sharing my perspective of the world.
Walking around these days I notice more and more that people have their eyes down and are absorbed in their screens. I've made a conscious choice to be fully present in the world with my eyes up and my attention OUT THERE. This is why I notice so much and can share it with you.
Whatever you do at this time of year, I hope it brings you joy or gives someone else joy. Stay safe and happy reading!
The rain has just arrived. The hills are still bathed in sunlight in the distance and the shrubs outside are squeaking as they scrape against the windows. The thunder is rumbling more deeply and the birds have taken cover.
ETA: 10 minutes later: the rain is pelting and I can't see the hills or the long green shed. I can barely hear myself think over the sound of rain on the roof and windows. Bliss.
Down town in the Country Music Capital - puppies and music.
To contact us Click HERE
Today I braved the Christmas shoppers in Tamworth. It wasn't too bad actually, except for the carpark. People lose their minds in shopping centre carparks, walking behind vehicles which have poor vision at the back, leaving shopping trolleys to partially block car spaces which are already too small for anything other than a city sized vehicle. And we're not in the city. Every second vehicle is a large 4WD with a bull bar on the front making it even larger.
I noticed the newsagency had more horse magazines than I would usually expect to see. Bunnings was packed with people but the lady selling the charity Christmas cakes was not very busy. The junior staff at the supermarket were very friendly and didn't begrudge the presence of customers. I bought a funky skirt for $16.
In the pet store I was pleased to see no animals for sale. There were three puppies and one cat available for adoption. They had been surrendered to the RSPCA. After having a health check, temperament tests and vaccinations they are desexed and microchipped and put up for adoption. There were two Kelpie-cross puppies from the same litter: one was an extrovert, barking happily at anyone who went by and the other was shy, just sitting and looking out. We wondered what they had been crossed with because their ears were enormous - perhaps a beagle or some kind of spaniel. Next door was a Jack Russell pup (called Antonio) who was resting when I saw him. Each animal has a written history and description of what their temperament is like and what kind of lifestyle they would fit with.
I spoke with one of the staff in the store and she told me that they also do checks on potential new owners. She has regularly refused adoption and she told me she is often abused by some breeders who are unhappy with the RSPCA. I was very pleased to know that this responsible approach is taken to . animals and ownership and that this particular store will have nothing to do with puppy factories.
The staff member also told me that twenty-five dogs had been surrendered in the last week. It's a timely reminder that pet ownership should be a conscious decision and shouldn't be taken lightly. Animals are not a commodity or a product. They are living creatures with feelings and should not be thought of as disposable.
I didn't ask what happens to the animals which aren't adopted, but I'm sure we all know.
At the other end of town, I came across this wonderful sculpture of country music legend Smokey Dawson. I really like the character of the piece. Seeing it left me in no doubt that I was in the country music capital!
I noticed the newsagency had more horse magazines than I would usually expect to see. Bunnings was packed with people but the lady selling the charity Christmas cakes was not very busy. The junior staff at the supermarket were very friendly and didn't begrudge the presence of customers. I bought a funky skirt for $16.
In the pet store I was pleased to see no animals for sale. There were three puppies and one cat available for adoption. They had been surrendered to the RSPCA. After having a health check, temperament tests and vaccinations they are desexed and microchipped and put up for adoption. There were two Kelpie-cross puppies from the same litter: one was an extrovert, barking happily at anyone who went by and the other was shy, just sitting and looking out. We wondered what they had been crossed with because their ears were enormous - perhaps a beagle or some kind of spaniel. Next door was a Jack Russell pup (called Antonio) who was resting when I saw him. Each animal has a written history and description of what their temperament is like and what kind of lifestyle they would fit with.
I spoke with one of the staff in the store and she told me that they also do checks on potential new owners. She has regularly refused adoption and she told me she is often abused by some breeders who are unhappy with the RSPCA. I was very pleased to know that this responsible approach is taken to . animals and ownership and that this particular store will have nothing to do with puppy factories.
The staff member also told me that twenty-five dogs had been surrendered in the last week. It's a timely reminder that pet ownership should be a conscious decision and shouldn't be taken lightly. Animals are not a commodity or a product. They are living creatures with feelings and should not be thought of as disposable.
I didn't ask what happens to the animals which aren't adopted, but I'm sure we all know.
.JPG) |
| Want a share a bench with Smokey Dawson? (c) divacultura 2012 |
.JPG) |
| If this is how Smokey looked in real life, I reckon he would have been a great storyteller. Look at the life in his face and eyes! (c) divacultura 2012 |
If the sock fits...clash the colours and the patterns!
To contact us Click HERE
This blog celebrated its first anniversary back in July. To celebrate, I gave away the gifts - a pair of my handknitted socks for one reader in Australia and one overseas reader.
Rose Wintergreen wrote and performed a whole song and was the worthy winner inside Australia. She sent me a photo of her wearing the socks. I just loved all the colours and patterns together so much that I asked her permission to share the photo with you. I'm pleased she said yes!
Great style! Great socks!
If you missed Rose's song, you can find it over here.
And you can find out more about Rose over here.
Rose Wintergreen wrote and performed a whole song and was the worthy winner inside Australia. She sent me a photo of her wearing the socks. I just loved all the colours and patterns together so much that I asked her permission to share the photo with you. I'm pleased she said yes!
 |
If you missed Rose's song, you can find it over here.
And you can find out more about Rose over here.
We made it to 2013 - the Mayans were wrong.
To contact us Click HERE
Imagine that. The world didn't end. Who knows what the Mayans were up to? The world could have been spared numerous B movies, apart from any angst which may have arisen from the looming end of the world.
I like milestones. I like to take the time to think about what's next and get my mindset right for whatever is next. I'm not really a goal setter, but I do like to be purposeful about actions that I take. My experience over the last few years since I finished full time employment for other people in October 2008 is that things work really well for me if I think positively, don't get tense and worried and continue to act on opportunities. I also look for opportunities. They can be sneaky things and can easily be missed if you're not actually looking.
I just checked my New Year post for last year and am very pleased with the alignment I achieved between intention and achievement. I am pleased with what I achieved. I haven't tackled my lace knitting yet, but I have signed up to an online class and have the yarn wound and ready to go. Development as a performer didn't really happen last year, but I'm okay with that. I've been spending a lot of time developing my skills as an improviser and actor in a teaching and assessment setting. It's not performance as such, but I'm still exercising my acting muscles.
The spare room is still a disaster - perhaps smaller and a tiny bit more organised than it was this time last year.
I'm very pleased with how my business is developing. Bookings and interest is very strong right through the first quarter and prospects are already looking very good beyond that. I'm feeling good about 2013.
On a personal level, one of my major achievements in 2012 was quitting sugar! I made it through the eight weeks of having no sugar at all, just in time for Christmas. Over Christmas, I have allowed myself to share a small portion of Christmas pudding and last night at dinner I had a dessert that was far too big and far too rich, given that I'm off sugar. It's interesting that previously I would have been fighting the urge to have seconds, but that doesn't happen anymore. The quit program has worked and my habits and palate have both changed. Congratulations to anyone out there who has achieved the same thing! And if you haven't quite made it yet, keep trying - it's worth it.
My main focus for 2013 is to continue to build my business, using networking and good work as my main advertising tools. On a concrete, practical note, I do want to get my website up and running.
Incorporating volunteering into my life while I'm working freelance is quite challenging. Because I am only paid when I work, I need to prioritise paid work over volunteering. Contributing to my community is very important to me and I'm feeling a little frustrated that I haven't found a way of volunteering regularly in the way my life is currently running. I solved that problem in 2011 by knitting for charity. This worked because it was easy to incorporate into my usual leisure activities and didn't compete for priority with my paid work. In 2012 I started to crochet a granny square a day and these will be turned into a blanket for someone. I will explore further charity avenues for my knitting this year.
Floating around in my mind is the idea of going unplugged for a day a month. I need to think about this idea more and gain clarity about what I mean. At this stage I'm thinking about it in the context of being offline - that is, not dealing with email, social media and using the internet generally. I feel like this would be a good thing to do to clear my mind and make sure days aren't sucked into the web vortex.
On the practical side, the spare room has made it onto the list. I know that I need to be more specific in thinking about this as making a broad statement like "tackle the spare room" really hasn't worked. At this moment I'm thinking "turn the spare room into a useful, welcoming space, so that it is more than a storage room". And of course, I need a timeframe. By 31 August 2013!
I've done fairly well with saving money during 2012, but with no real plan other than to have money to tide me over during the dead period of December and January. I'm going to put a firm aim in place and put aside 10% of all invoices (after I've taken out tax and GST).
And I want to dance more!
My plans for divacultura are to continue to write daily as much as possible. This is no longer a chore and I find that most days the inspiration is readily available and the writing happens fairly easily. If I'm travelling it's often difficult to post each day, but I've decided just to acknowledge that and communicate with my readers. Given my work schedule I may need to cut back to five posts a week, but I'll let you know if that happens. With the development of my website for this year, I need to think about the relationship between my business and my blog and make sure I seize opportunities for cross-pollination.
Here are the top 10 most read posts on divacultura:
1. MYKI: it's your key to bureaucratic frustration
2. Quitting sugar - two weeks down
3. That's how you handle a complaint!
4. Emergency services call - communication failure
5. Missing in action
6. Photo a day June - from a low angle
7. If myki is the solution, what the hell was the problem?
8. I've got the public transport ticketing blues
9. Photo a day - June round up & July list
10. 2 Days in New York - giveaway
Post numbers 2 through to 10 were all written this year. The top post was written in 2011. There's a strong theme of public transport and community service being subjects of these most popular posts. And my photos have also received lots of comments and compliments, both here on the blog and on Instagram and facebook. The one I'm puzzled about is "Missing in action" at number 5...
Phew! That's a great list and I'm excited about what's to come.
What are you thinking about for 2013? What's your intention?
I like milestones. I like to take the time to think about what's next and get my mindset right for whatever is next. I'm not really a goal setter, but I do like to be purposeful about actions that I take. My experience over the last few years since I finished full time employment for other people in October 2008 is that things work really well for me if I think positively, don't get tense and worried and continue to act on opportunities. I also look for opportunities. They can be sneaky things and can easily be missed if you're not actually looking.
I just checked my New Year post for last year and am very pleased with the alignment I achieved between intention and achievement. I am pleased with what I achieved. I haven't tackled my lace knitting yet, but I have signed up to an online class and have the yarn wound and ready to go. Development as a performer didn't really happen last year, but I'm okay with that. I've been spending a lot of time developing my skills as an improviser and actor in a teaching and assessment setting. It's not performance as such, but I'm still exercising my acting muscles.
The spare room is still a disaster - perhaps smaller and a tiny bit more organised than it was this time last year.
I'm very pleased with how my business is developing. Bookings and interest is very strong right through the first quarter and prospects are already looking very good beyond that. I'm feeling good about 2013.
On a personal level, one of my major achievements in 2012 was quitting sugar! I made it through the eight weeks of having no sugar at all, just in time for Christmas. Over Christmas, I have allowed myself to share a small portion of Christmas pudding and last night at dinner I had a dessert that was far too big and far too rich, given that I'm off sugar. It's interesting that previously I would have been fighting the urge to have seconds, but that doesn't happen anymore. The quit program has worked and my habits and palate have both changed. Congratulations to anyone out there who has achieved the same thing! And if you haven't quite made it yet, keep trying - it's worth it.
My main focus for 2013 is to continue to build my business, using networking and good work as my main advertising tools. On a concrete, practical note, I do want to get my website up and running.
Incorporating volunteering into my life while I'm working freelance is quite challenging. Because I am only paid when I work, I need to prioritise paid work over volunteering. Contributing to my community is very important to me and I'm feeling a little frustrated that I haven't found a way of volunteering regularly in the way my life is currently running. I solved that problem in 2011 by knitting for charity. This worked because it was easy to incorporate into my usual leisure activities and didn't compete for priority with my paid work. In 2012 I started to crochet a granny square a day and these will be turned into a blanket for someone. I will explore further charity avenues for my knitting this year.
Floating around in my mind is the idea of going unplugged for a day a month. I need to think about this idea more and gain clarity about what I mean. At this stage I'm thinking about it in the context of being offline - that is, not dealing with email, social media and using the internet generally. I feel like this would be a good thing to do to clear my mind and make sure days aren't sucked into the web vortex.
On the practical side, the spare room has made it onto the list. I know that I need to be more specific in thinking about this as making a broad statement like "tackle the spare room" really hasn't worked. At this moment I'm thinking "turn the spare room into a useful, welcoming space, so that it is more than a storage room". And of course, I need a timeframe. By 31 August 2013!
I've done fairly well with saving money during 2012, but with no real plan other than to have money to tide me over during the dead period of December and January. I'm going to put a firm aim in place and put aside 10% of all invoices (after I've taken out tax and GST).
And I want to dance more!
My plans for divacultura are to continue to write daily as much as possible. This is no longer a chore and I find that most days the inspiration is readily available and the writing happens fairly easily. If I'm travelling it's often difficult to post each day, but I've decided just to acknowledge that and communicate with my readers. Given my work schedule I may need to cut back to five posts a week, but I'll let you know if that happens. With the development of my website for this year, I need to think about the relationship between my business and my blog and make sure I seize opportunities for cross-pollination.
Here are the top 10 most read posts on divacultura:
1. MYKI: it's your key to bureaucratic frustration
2. Quitting sugar - two weeks down
3. That's how you handle a complaint!
4. Emergency services call - communication failure
5. Missing in action
6. Photo a day June - from a low angle
7. If myki is the solution, what the hell was the problem?
8. I've got the public transport ticketing blues
9. Photo a day - June round up & July list
10. 2 Days in New York - giveaway
Post numbers 2 through to 10 were all written this year. The top post was written in 2011. There's a strong theme of public transport and community service being subjects of these most popular posts. And my photos have also received lots of comments and compliments, both here on the blog and on Instagram and facebook. The one I'm puzzled about is "Missing in action" at number 5...
Phew! That's a great list and I'm excited about what's to come.
What are you thinking about for 2013? What's your intention?
Who's Calling?
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Today while slicing up the last delicious cantalope of the year, the phone rang. Seth, who recently went out for a haircut is expecting an important call so I reflexively pivoted to face the phone, dropping my knife which fell, blade side down -- of course -- on my bare instep, slicing it open.
Still determined to answer the phone, I got close enough to read the caller ID which had a number I didn't recognize so I picked up the receiver.
But first I tripped on Buzzy who was winding around my legs.
Despite the chaos, I chirp a pleasant "Hello?" only to hear the low rumble of what we all recognize as a room full of desperate (I am not without pity) telemarketers. I mange to be polite as I inform my caller, who has asked for Seth, that while he isn't home, I would be pleased to take a message.
"No, thankyou," says she. This is just a courtesy call." She clicked off before I could shriek, now aware that I am standing in my own blood, "Well, I don't find it courteous at all!!!
On that note, here is a post from the ancient days of this blog, written immediately after Election Day, 2010, that is very appropriate in view of phone calls such as these as well as the barrage of political calls, polls and surveys that many of us have ben receiving in preparation for the approaching election...
Recent Scenario: After tidying my home, starting a load of laundry and vigorously petting the cats, I sit--with the lunch I’ve prepared--by the window to soak up some sunlight and relax for a few minutes. Cat Numero Uno curls up across my knees. Numero Dos settles by my side while I balance my veggie burger on the arm of the sofa, placing my iced tea on the window sill. I note, with fleeting concern, that I’ve forgotten to locate the portable phone. Then the phone rings.
Since it could be one of the boys needing advice (Can I wear this shirt with these pants? How much do I tip at a buffet? What is the meaning of life?), I pull myself to my feet, dispersing the cats—one of whom knocks my veggie burger to the floor.
The sound of shattering crockery alarms the other cat who leaps to the ceiling, up-ending the iced tea which then soaks my newspaper.
I stagger to the phone, my lips already forming the pearls of wisdom I will dispense, but, upon lifting the receiver, hear only, “Hi, this is Linda McMahon….” Or, “This is—insert the name of one of a dozen candidates who’ve been bombarding my home recently with obnoxious recorded messages. Or it’s their wife, child, left ass-cheek, pet or transsexual lover who wants, in additional recorded messages, to tell me why their daddy, mommy, wife, husband, etc. is the perfect choice for the job.
Unfortunately, there’s no one at the other end at whom to howl obscenities. So, I shriek them into the unresponsive receiver, impressing none but the cats (who’ve heard it all before) with my dazzling, yet disappointingly unmarketable, natural ability to string naughty words into extremely complex sentences.
Don’t these politicians see that this harassment isn’t an effective way to commandeer votes or rally a constituency? At least, not in my opinion, it isn’t. I’ve long treasured the privilege of voting but was so disgusted with these calls (plus the relentless negative ads on television combined with a scarcity of decent choices) that, this year, I considered getting a pedicure instead of casting a ballot.
Not to mention, I miss the old voting machines. I don’t trust the new ones. How could it not matter whether we insert our ballots face up or down? I think the new machines might actually be shredders. Right, Bridgeport?
I read that Linda McMahon’s campaign made 400,000 phone calls during the weeks preceding the election. I seriously think she made them all to my house. When I heard the staggering amount she spent (45 million American dollars) on her campaign, I had to lie down with a cool rag across my face and a bag of peanut M&Ms by my side.
The election is over but I’m still receiving calls. Now, mostly, from gutter installers, chimney cleaners and dozens of charities and organizations who think nothing of calling on a Sunday morning at 8:30 or a Friday evening after nine. I struggle to keep my head from exploding as I respond politely. After all, these are people trying to earn a living.
If my hormone levels are in flux or I’ve been rudely awakened, I’ve been known to behave less cordially. Afterward, I worry that, with the click of a mouse, a caller seeking revenge and possessing computer skills could skew my credit rating or place me on the no-fly list, so I try to control my ire. It does seem, however, that since I signed up with the “Do Not Call” registry I’ve been receiving more calls instead of fewer. Perhaps, I accidentally added myself to the “Please—I beg you!!—Call Me” list in a moment of delirium.
So, if any telemarketers, candidates, or pollsters are listening, I don’t want to hear why you’re right for the job, change my cable company or donate money. I want my phone time reserved for chatting with family and friends, ordering pizza or directing the confused driver of the Publishers Clearing House Prize Patrol van to my door. Other than that, consider me unlisted.
Today while slicing up the last delicious cantalope of the year, the phone rang. Seth, who recently went out for a haircut is expecting an important call so I reflexively pivoted to face the phone, dropping my knife which fell, blade side down -- of course -- on my bare instep, slicing it open.Still determined to answer the phone, I got close enough to read the caller ID which had a number I didn't recognize so I picked up the receiver.
But first I tripped on Buzzy who was winding around my legs.
Despite the chaos, I chirp a pleasant "Hello?" only to hear the low rumble of what we all recognize as a room full of desperate (I am not without pity) telemarketers. I mange to be polite as I inform my caller, who has asked for Seth, that while he isn't home, I would be pleased to take a message.
"No, thankyou," says she. This is just a courtesy call." She clicked off before I could shriek, now aware that I am standing in my own blood, "Well, I don't find it courteous at all!!!
On that note, here is a post from the ancient days of this blog, written immediately after Election Day, 2010, that is very appropriate in view of phone calls such as these as well as the barrage of political calls, polls and surveys that many of us have ben receiving in preparation for the approaching election...
Recent Scenario: After tidying my home, starting a load of laundry and vigorously petting the cats, I sit--with the lunch I’ve prepared--by the window to soak up some sunlight and relax for a few minutes. Cat Numero Uno curls up across my knees. Numero Dos settles by my side while I balance my veggie burger on the arm of the sofa, placing my iced tea on the window sill. I note, with fleeting concern, that I’ve forgotten to locate the portable phone. Then the phone rings.Since it could be one of the boys needing advice (Can I wear this shirt with these pants? How much do I tip at a buffet? What is the meaning of life?), I pull myself to my feet, dispersing the cats—one of whom knocks my veggie burger to the floor.
The sound of shattering crockery alarms the other cat who leaps to the ceiling, up-ending the iced tea which then soaks my newspaper. I stagger to the phone, my lips already forming the pearls of wisdom I will dispense, but, upon lifting the receiver, hear only, “Hi, this is Linda McMahon….” Or, “This is—insert the name of one of a dozen candidates who’ve been bombarding my home recently with obnoxious recorded messages. Or it’s their wife, child, left ass-cheek, pet or transsexual lover who wants, in additional recorded messages, to tell me why their daddy, mommy, wife, husband, etc. is the perfect choice for the job.
Unfortunately, there’s no one at the other end at whom to howl obscenities. So, I shriek them into the unresponsive receiver, impressing none but the cats (who’ve heard it all before) with my dazzling, yet disappointingly unmarketable, natural ability to string naughty words into extremely complex sentences.
Don’t these politicians see that this harassment isn’t an effective way to commandeer votes or rally a constituency? At least, not in my opinion, it isn’t. I’ve long treasured the privilege of voting but was so disgusted with these calls (plus the relentless negative ads on television combined with a scarcity of decent choices) that, this year, I considered getting a pedicure instead of casting a ballot.
Not to mention, I miss the old voting machines. I don’t trust the new ones. How could it not matter whether we insert our ballots face up or down? I think the new machines might actually be shredders. Right, Bridgeport?
I read that Linda McMahon’s campaign made 400,000 phone calls during the weeks preceding the election. I seriously think she made them all to my house. When I heard the staggering amount she spent (45 million American dollars) on her campaign, I had to lie down with a cool rag across my face and a bag of peanut M&Ms by my side.
The election is over but I’m still receiving calls. Now, mostly, from gutter installers, chimney cleaners and dozens of charities and organizations who think nothing of calling on a Sunday morning at 8:30 or a Friday evening after nine. I struggle to keep my head from exploding as I respond politely. After all, these are people trying to earn a living.
If my hormone levels are in flux or I’ve been rudely awakened, I’ve been known to behave less cordially. Afterward, I worry that, with the click of a mouse, a caller seeking revenge and possessing computer skills could skew my credit rating or place me on the no-fly list, so I try to control my ire. It does seem, however, that since I signed up with the “Do Not Call” registry I’ve been receiving more calls instead of fewer. Perhaps, I accidentally added myself to the “Please—I beg you!!—Call Me” list in a moment of delirium.
So, if any telemarketers, candidates, or pollsters are listening, I don’t want to hear why you’re right for the job, change my cable company or donate money. I want my phone time reserved for chatting with family and friends, ordering pizza or directing the confused driver of the Publishers Clearing House Prize Patrol van to my door. Other than that, consider me unlisted.
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| If he calls, I'll talk to him. |
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