How to start? Where to begin? If I've left it a long time between entries I often find I suffer from writer's block - a bit like when I had to write essays at uni! I went to Starbucks yesterday in the hope that the American stereotype of the dedicated writer diligently tapping away at an expensive state-of-the-art laptop would inspire me into some lengthy and beautiful prose. It didn't. Maybe because instead of the shiny new laptop, I was using a battered old Spirax notebook with boobies doodled all over the front cover by my flatmates. After two happy hours spent people watching, spilling coffee on my lap (yes Ant, I probably drink more coffee than you these days!) and adding my own smutty drawings to the cover, I was still no nearer to my goal. Similarly today I have been lying on Dan's bed and staring upside down out of the window at the billboards and seeing how many words I can make from 'Australian Unity' (NB; is 'strait' grammatically correct or is it just something Mark Knopfler made up?)
As you have probably guessed I still don't have a job, or rather I do have a job but I haven't started it yet. I start next week but still feel grossly unemployed! Being, as we are, in the midst of an 'economic downturn' (even though it hasn't hit Oz all that badly yet but they do have such a complex about being left out of things!) I was amazed to land a fairly good job. Ok, ok, so I'm not Secretary of State or saving lives or anything like that but being an Assistant Manager of Cotton On is by far the most prestigious job I've had so far (unless you count 7 times World Showjumping Champion....except I was 10 and my horse was imaginary!) Of course I am utterly shitting it. In 18 months of travelling I still haven't embraced responsibility but as it took me 5 weeks to get the damn job in the first place I figure I'm not really in a position to wait until an easier one comes up!
And herein lies the problem of my visa. In order to legally get a Second Year Visa the discerning backpacker must first engage in 90 days of "Regional Work" (read; backbreaking labour). For most people this means some form of fruit picking but can also be mining or construction. It usually takes place in the Outback. For the longest time I thought my work at Nitmiluk would count but apparently waitressing isn't laborious enough to be valid. However Bcky assured me that the Department of Immigration are very slack about checking all the applications which go through and she has helped heaps of people slip beneath the radar by supplying the business numbers from the fruit farms she has worked at. Armed with such information I lodged my application last Friday but it seems I have been one of the unlucky ones that gets checked. I got an email on Tuesday asking me for more information and unfortunately Becky has chosen this time to do one of her disappearing acts where she vanishes off the face of the planet and becomes uncontactable, so I have no idea where I'm at with the whole thing. It's really quite stressful - I wish I had done the damn fruitpicking now but the illegal option is always more appealing and I don't have enough time to do it now! I feel like I am stuck in limbo until I can get it sorted. If it gets declined I can ask Cotton On to sponsor me for residency but as it will cost them $4500 and there is a recession they might just prefer to hire an Aussie. It's totally up in the air at the moment.
I guess you have all heard about the bushfires. From what I can gather it seems to have become a globally covered event. It all began a few weeks ago; while you lot were under layers of snow Victoria was suffereing through it's worst heatwave on record with temperatures peaking at over 46 degrees. Of course it doesn't take much for a fire to get out of control in that heat but it now appears to be have been the work of some very sick arsonist mind. Luckily the Emergency Services managed to get it in hand before it reached the outer suburbs so it hasn't affected the city at all. The fantastic thing about this country is that while one corner of it is burning alive other parts (Quesensland and New South Wales - which is just next door to Victortia) are suffering floods of near biblical proportions. It's a funny old country!! In True Blue style people are rallying round and the Red Cross has raised heaps of money already. I heard a news bulletin this afternoon about Marysville officials drawing up a plan to rebuild their community. First items on the agenda? Homes? No. Schools? No. Hospital? No. Sports ground? Oh hell yes. I love the Aussies!
I feel fairly lucky that I have a home to go to. The lease runs out on the flat on Sunday and we only found a place to move into yesterday. It's a small but perfectly formed flat behind Dan and Brian's office and about a 10 minute walk from the pub I work at so I don't have to spend my hard earned tips on overpriced taxis at 5am anymore! Happy days! I am sort of going to miss this flat though. Our balcony looks out over a busy intersection and me and Brian can entertain ourselves for hours (I wish that was an exaggeration) sitting out there with a stubby and trying to get people to wave at us. And the boys in the BP around the corner don't even blink anymore when I go in at 2am in my jammies. Due to the large amount of crisps and chocolate and pies I buy I'm pretty sure they think we're a bunch of stoners but in fact often we have rather long Wii Sports tournaments which require refreshments and it is the loser's job to supply them......more often than not, that would be me! Still, we'll be right near a KFC at this new place so I guess we're trading up!! By the way, new address is: 25/81 Edinburgh Street, Richmond, Melbourne, VIC 3121. I will also be getting a new mobile at some point as the pay plan on my Telstra phone is shocking and I don't need it for the outback anymore so watch this space and I will update the number.
Got to go to horrible, horrible work now. I am Barmaid Extraordinaire at The Swan Hotel (what is it with me and pubs with 'swan' in them?) and as most of you know I LOATHE bar work but it's cash in hand. Hopefully once I begin getting paid from Cotton On I can quit because it really gets me down. Why is it that every pub has evil, nasty regulars who love ragging on the new girl? Anyone know?
xxxxxx