29 November, 2006

Horoscope

My stars for this week according to the Sydney Morning Herald:
This week is full of long-winded citizens intent on telling you more than you need to know about things you don't have time for. Everyone's an expert and doesn't all that talking make you feel like walking? Knowledge speaks and wisdom listens, so the saying goes, but when you are busy and others rabbit on, strategies for extracting yourself seem wiser.

I wish I had read this sooner. To be honest I am tired. Really tired. I need November to end. There are a myriad problems floating around my sociosphere at the moment and only one of them is mine, and that is the fact that everyone's problems seem to wind up in the Lost Property box of my ears (or eyes, in the case of email). What's more, I still haven't dealt with some of the big issues I was suppose to tackle oh, say, a month ago.

Letters that I haven't written. Sole trader tax doodads that I haven't reapplied for. Books that remain unread. Emails unanswered. (Though I swear I will attend to every single email currently in my inbox by 3rd December). Christmas thingies unplanned. Where will I find the time to attend to myself?

24 November, 2006

The Original

I had a go at Soccer Chief earlier this week for his attempt at a Tropfest script. If you know that Douglas Adams story about the packet of biscuits, that was basically the same plot he had but it was a girl on a train. Actually, I think there is also a Jeffrey Archer story that was rather similar ('Broken Routine' in his collection of short stories 'A Quiver Full of Arrows'). Basically I told him flat out that it was unoriginal.

Then I felt really mean so I conceded that he writes well (which he does, not just lip service on my part), but it was just that the punchline was obvious for half of us who knew the story and it follows that if we made a film of it, it would feel unoriginal to some of the audience. Then I felt like I was patronising him, like I was the authority on good writing and he was there to soak up whatever praise he could get from me (which is NOT the case at all - I don't think he really rates my opinion either way).

*Sigh* I can't seem to get it right with him. I either inadvertently insult him and feel the need to apologise afterwards, which further insults him because it seems like I see him as not being able to take a joke or I tiptoe around him trying not to tip the apple cart. At the same time I don't want to come across as treating him any differently from anyone else.

It seems that a lot of people reckon I have a crush on him, too, which is also not the case. When I first met him I didn't even notice what he looked like, I just knew him as a little bit quiet. It wasn't until about a month later, when a bunch of us caught the train together after a few drinks at the pub after work, that I realised he was gorgeous. He's also very nice, intelligent and cool. Unfortunately I also saw him pashing his girlfriend in front of the coffee kiosk outside work one morning and since she was almost completely opposite to me (long blonde hair, petite, fashionably dressed) it killed all romance for me. But it doesn't stop me from admiring his pinchable, bedimpled cheeks and gorgeous green eyes.

Anyway, this entry is not about Soccer Chief, it's about originality. My flatmate and I went to see 'The Prestige' on Tuesday (excellent film, by the way) and there was a concept in the film that ruined any thought that my current novel is 100% original.

*** here be spoilers ***


Okay, so 'The Prestige' is about a pair of rival magicians in 19th century London and their sacrifice for their art. Christian Bale's character, The Professor, is the better magician but not much of a showman, whereas Hugh Jackman's The Great Danton has panache but not the nous to invent. The Professor invents a magic trick called The Transported Man whereby he bounces a ball across the room gets into a cupboard on one end of the stage, then comes out of another cupboard at the other end of the stage and catches the ball. Danton can't figure out how he does it, which obsesses him for the rest of his life (several years - until he gets killed, anyway).

ANYWAY, it turns out that all along The Professor is two people, a pair of twins, who share one life - one family, a mistress and a profession. The Professor's assistant is also The Professor sometimes etc etc. SO I'M ANNOYED because I'm currently writing a novel about a pair of 16 year old twins who, because their parents are in a cult that is paranoid about the erosion of freedom, have been brought up as one person so that if one of them got caught, the other would still be able to live freely. It's hard to explain, but the point is that I came up with the 'twins brought up as one person' concept independently and now everyone is going to think that I stole it off 'The Prestige' seeing as in film format it is more accessible than the book (which my flatmate has read but I have not - she thought the film was excellent too, by the way). Gaah!

*** here ends spoilers ***


Apart from that, I've had a few weird days, let me tell you. I don't even think I could point exactly what was weird about it but there has been an atmosphere of oddity over my daily activities this whole week. I also had a strange flash fantasy (maybe fantasy isn't the right word because that implies purposefulness, let's call it flash daydream) about pashing a guy at work, better known as Punk Pirate. He smokes, so no way. But there it is. Strange days.

18 November, 2006

The Cat's Empire

Interesting article linking The Cat Empire's Felix Riebl with Al Gore. We need more environmental warriors out there and if someone like Felix (who in declared "our weapons are our instruments" in the song 'The Chariot' from their debut album) can inspire the crowds, the Empire may, in fact, strike back. And that is a good thing.

12 November, 2006

Carnage on Level Eleven

On Thursday afternoon, the penny dropped. For all the blood that followed, it may as well have been a guillotine. Level Eleven shed one-third of all staff and the writing department, being the largest in the company, lost six people from the team of 18. It may be remembered as the Great November Redundancy of 2006. Who thought it would come to this so early?

The fallout is this: anger, disappointment, contemplative depression and a stark recognition of betrayal. For some people, the whole gamut, for others just a concentrated form of one thing or another. Ironically, the sombre mood from this has led to lower productivity from the kept ones, perhaps putting them in danger of the same fate.

And yet, there is this: I am five months into a six-month contract. Many others were at the same stage of their contract also. Can one really expect the contract to be renewed? You would hope for a a renewal, but you could not expect it. Many of the shafted were merely asked to work out the rest of their contract. At this point, they should have been looking for another job anyway.

However, there is also this: a girl at work accepted a demotion in return for a guarantee of another six months work, the reason being that she wanted to move out of home and then later next year go travelling. Management knew that these decisions rested on their action and they agreed to keep her for another six months. An agreement they broke on Thursday, which occurred because they had not yet forged a new contract.

Further to everything is this: the official line was that the board of directors told management to cut costs by a third. The directive came about ten days ago, according to reports. This means that for ten days they knew about this AND DIDN'T WARN US. You know, a little transparency goes a long way. They thought they were preventing a breakout of anxiety whereas all along their methods have caused more anxiety than they could have created if they had been frank with us to begin with.

There is a theory, also, that they may have known about this longer than they let on. If this is true, then maybe they should have scaled back the $1000, 7-person managers lunch they had the other week. Maybe they should stop expensing coffee to the company when we have a coffee machine and everyone else who doesn't like Nescafe buys their own. Maybe they should all take a $10K pay cut and keep one more person on.

And I am angry about this: at the company meeting on Friday afternoon, our managing director stood up to express regret about the losses. In the next sentence he mentioned that the focus groups have responded well to our product and that they are in talks with a big telco, which will consolidate our product and will probably generate more revenue than anticipated. Further to that, he added that he will be fielding suggestions for the Christmas party. Beyond insensitive. He also said the words "moving forward" about six times, which is an unfortunate indicator of managerspeak entering our work system.

A question about loyalty was deflected to our CEO, full of bullshit at best, devoid of compassion at worst. He basically used the refrain "the losses we've had to suffer were no reflection on the level of work put in by the people we had to let go. Our next goal is to get to the February deadline and we'll see where we go from there." THEN WHAT? HUH?

I am going to have a serious talk to this man and I will find out whether he has a heart under his pile-of-shit exterior. Either I'm going to get myself fired or I am going to see some change. Or maybe nothing. If nothing, then what can I do but seek my own path?

09 November, 2006

In My Head

I woke up this morning after a dream about fairy lights in series (I am currently writing about electricity at work). I had the word 'inveigle' in my head (it means 'persuade someone to do something by deception or flattery') and the song 'Nothing' by The Cat Empire (I am going to see them next week!).

I also forgot that I'd put a large picture of Soccer Chief as my desktop background when I was drunk and I got so scared when I started up just then that I changed it back to Apocalyptica. A terrible beauty is born.

07 November, 2006

Melbourne Cup

Completely pissed. Lost $27 all up. Better result than some. All hail the Soccer Chief, for he is gorgeous.

02 November, 2006

Spookesque

A couple of strange clairvoyant-y observations made cameos yesterday. At writers' group last night, one of the members said that every time she reads my work she could imagine it as the pages of a book. I asked her if she was in any way psychic and we laughed.

My sister came by and stayed over last night. She had had a meeting with her new flatmates (she is looking for a place in Canberra with them). She reminded me that I had said to her (some time ago now, maybe 7 or 8 years) that the clairvoyant reading I had done at the time mentioned that I would meet someone through her. She said that she had a feeling that that person was one of her new flatmates. She said when she met him, she could instantly see me with him. No pressure at all...

The funny thing was that I had forgotten that part of the reading. I think her memory of it was correct. At the moment I'm so focused on the prediction that I will be a writer that I am trying my darndest to fulfil that part rather than pursuing the other unachievable happinesses. I mean, not that you can't have a good relationship, but it is not something that you can work hard at if you don't have anything to begin with.

01 November, 2006

Trains

When I am troubled, I dream of trains. I know this because I keep a dream diary for vivid dreams and a personal diary to write out all my thoughts. There's a correlation between the times I dream of trains with the times when I'm troubled. For the most part, I am turning over a problem in my brain. Dreaming of a train - being on a train, waiting for a train, seeing a train - means that I have come to the climax of that thought. A solution may not come from the dream - in fact I don't think it ever has - but the train dream means a decision has been cemented in my mind and that there will soon be closure.

The last time I dreamt of a train (5th October), I was trying to figure out what I should do with an unsavoury snippet of knowledge about a colleague of mine. Just after that dream the problem pretty much resolved itself and in the meantime I had decided not to do anything about the knowledge I had acquired.

Last night I had a train dream. My boss and a couple of people from work were at an outdoor shooting range shooting totem poles of world leaders and we had to catch the train, but we missed it. The train station was down a grassy embankment and the train was already moving away from the station by the time we started running down the embankment. My boss was philosophical about it. He sat down with his bags and said "there'll be another one". We decided to stay the night in a nearby village. My sister was there and the hostel was in Mexico. The toilet flushed into the indoor swimming pool.

The next day we headed out to the train station again, but we were on the wrong side of the tracks to where people were boarding so we just jumped into a semi-open carriage that already contained a few people in it. The passengers had to move their luggage so we could fit. A ticket inspector came past and I asked him whether we needed a ticket to Hornsby and he said we needed to buy them at the station, but he passed us by. Soon after, a lady entered the carriage (from the outside...) and sold us tickets in the form of stamps. The stamps cost $3 and could be used all the way to Melbourne. Then I woke up.

I've been turning a problem over and over in my mind since Friday. The problem is this: a friend from high school, one of my best friends from high school, recently got married. Previously she hinted that I may be asked to be one of her bridesmaids, however, cut to the year 2006 and I'm not even on the guest list. Hmm. I haven't seen her for 18 months, but not through want of trying. I invited her to two birthday parties, a farewell party, a welcome home party and made several attempts to arrange a catch-up, to which her constant refrain was always "I'm really busy at the moment...". I also sent her a postcard while I was overseas and bought her a small gift, which I ended up posting to her instead of handing it to her in person as I'd imagined, sent her a Christmas card, a birthday card and offered her a job at my current work place because she is an expert at chemistry and we need chemistry people.

Two questions have been troubling me, 'why wasn't I invited?' and alternatively, 'why didn't she just tell me she didn't want to invite me?' I can accept not being invited but it takes just two minutes to type up an email that says "hey, I know we've been really good friends in the past but we've drifted apart these past few years and I just don't find room for you in my life any more". And I would understand.

This morning I had a train dream. I know what I must do to close this matter.