So, in robot world...

…otherwise known as Canberra, the capital of Australia, I spent a small part of life, after coming back from living in London and travelling the world, going to University. Now some people love Canberra. They love the formal, rigidity of the place and the stick up the arse rules and social conventions. And then there’s me. I hated it. Rules? Oh please? Dressing the right way and saying the right thing? Oh fuck off. I believe Popeye summed it up best when he said ‘I am who I am.’ Anyway – back to University – I went to the one in Canberra because I was a ne’re do well and they were the only one who’d accept me. So I turned up in an attempt to do a BA, or as I like to call it a ‘bugger all’, in journalism. No, I didn’t want to be a journalist. It was just a course I picked out of the blue and thought – yeah okay, I’ll take a crack at that.

The point of my rambling? I had to attend a creative writing unit/class for a semester. We had to write – as the course name suggests – creatively and then read it to the class on a regular basis. I sucked at this. The reading out loud wasn't the problem. Public speaking, to me, is easy. I'm a natural ham. It was always the content of my work that went down like a lead balloon. One of mine I read – part of a horror romance – and everyone stared at me. What was wrong with it? Well everyone else in the class had attended some basketball game the previous night and they had all written about basketball. The lecturer said I needed to ‘think a little more about my audience and experience life’ before I wrote the stories that I did and that ‘maybe creative writing wasn’t for me.’

Why do I mention this now? Well, I’m going to use that horror romance story from the robot years in my current Amarinda story. I still went on to finish my degree in Communication/Psychology at a different Uni. I still don’t conform and I write some creative – non basketball – stuff when the mood takes me. The moral of the story? Don’t let wankers drag you down or you'll never do anything in life.

**mannequin pic is from a store in the Darwin mall.

Amarinda Jones
Penn Halligan
www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

You're not bloody sorry…

No, I’m personally not sorry for anything I do because I am who I am and there it is. However I had to deal with a pernickety phone banking system today. I have two bank accounts – no, I’m not rich. I wouldn’t be working if I was. I would be slumped on the sun lounge on the patio sipping wine and directing some luscious man to fix the concrete I still have not fixed and to wash the car etc. How much time does work take out of your life? Too frigging much. Anyway, one phone system at one bank is so easy to use and I use it all the time. The automatic voice understands what you are keying in and just does it. I like robots like that. The other is a complete bitch. Now while I don’t have a problem with bitches per se, this one with her supercilious voice was annoying as hell this morning. Every time I entered the numbers requested, she kept saying ‘sorry, please re-enter’- so I’d re-enter – ‘sorry, please re-enter.’ I tried 7 times to get this stupid robot to accept the payment and each time she kept apologizing but I just knew by her tone she was not sorry and I believe she was enjoying herself and I swear I heard her giggle. You know there has always been that theory the robots would one day take over the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t the start of it.

‘Ever had to back off from someone because you know you are going to say something you really need to say but you know that if you do that person will be hurt? How much do you keep inside you and how much to you just let out because keeping it in is killing you and you deserve more than what this person is offering you? I generally call a spade a shovel and I know this is confronting to some people. I still do it but of late I have been backing away from some people because I just want an easy life and getting caught up in their melodramas is just too time consuming – and I tired of wasting my time. Sometimes it’s hard to be yourself. I believe you must remain to true to who you are but some people make it damn difficult. You’re all probably too reasonable to think like this.

I have been working with someone who has been in their job since Noah built the ark. While this is a concept I’d don’t understand – the job – not Noah, all legends are interesting – I just wonder what this person has missed out on in their life. Maybe they never wanted more

than what they had. Maybe they were happy to settle – or do they consider it as settling? The whole concept fascinates me as I see this person holding on to the only thing they have ever known with a death grip. What happens when it ends? What do they do with themselves after decades of turning up at the same place every morning? Work, as you have probably guessed, is just a means to an end for me. I get no joy out of it and I don’t expect to. That’s just who I am. I am not my job and I get no added self esteem from it. I just wonder what happens to these people after years of service. What do they do? Are you one of them? Do you know someone like this? Please fill me, the rampant job swapper, in. I’m not saying there is anything wrong in it… I just wonder. Speaking of jobs – spookily on the radio they are asking people to call in about the most boring job they have ever had. I would have to say all…but then I am committed to nothing but myself and those I love.

I was reading a blog where the blogger was pissed off at turning a certain age. I really don’t understand why people worry about their age. Is it because they had certain goals they wanted to reach by 30 or 40 and they did not accomplish them? Is it that their life has not turned out like they wished it to? Well, whose life does? You make the best of what you have. Goals are great but there’s no point falling apart if they aren’t made real. I personally think age is irrelevant and that people who worry about aging make it worse as they get so caught up in what others think of them – who they are and what they should be. I’m 44. I am better and stronger now that I ever was a 24 and hell no, I would never want to be any younger. Work with your age – not against it. To me, it’s just not that big a drama.

Someone asked me today if I had one wish what would it be? My standard answer is another three wishes. They said – “no really, what would it be?” That’s what it would be. What is the point of one wish when there is so much crap stuff going on in the world? So on the whole I think this is a dumb question. Wishes do not come true anyway. Reality is the only thing you can depend on and if you want to change something you have to work at it. Tinkerbell rarely shows up in anyone’s life – though if you have seen her please tell me…I’ll order you some coffee to sober you up.

Speaking of coffee…the mobile barista person comes at 10:30am every day at work. They make damn fine coffee. I like my coffee strong and they make it accordingly. But sometimes it’s bloody hard waiting for 10:30am. Work has free coffee. It is like dishwater. How can one stay awake on that? Do you notice how hooked you get on stuff? One of my fellow coffee aficionados is dead jealous I can get a free coffee tomorrow as my coffee card is stamped 9 times and the 10th one is free. Can you picture it? A bunch of shaking women standing in reception at 10:30am with their coffee loyalty cards hanging out for coffee. I am a big fan of loyalty cards where every time you buy something you get a stamp and collect so many stamps then you get x amount free. Sure, I know that somewhere that freebie is built into the prices but I also don’t mind supporting local businesses who work hard and make an effort to keep customers and free coffee man is free coffee.

Best friend Ethel and I are winning the lotto - $30 million tonight. How do I know this? Because we are the best people to win it. Speaking of the goodly Ethel, she was a tad pissed off today and sent me several emails from her work to mine with some exceptionally colourful language within. She was so upset most of the words were spelt incorrectly but I understand Ethel email speak as she understands mine. Good thing is the job I am in does not have a profanity filter like a previous one I was in – so I did not get called into the IT office to have to explain her colourful emails as I have in the past…though I do enjoy coming up with excuses to explain bad behaviour. Thankfully I have had a bit of experience of that.

Reality is something you rise above -- Liza Minnelli

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?