I never say what I want to say. The words get stuck in my throat, and what comes out is not what I’m screaming inside my head. My lips are painted with the ghosts of a thousand whispered confessions, murmured to the night and lost in the nothing. Bravery would unleash those secret things and leave my throat unobstructed, but I have always been scared. Words are both weapons, and chains, and I am trapped by things left unsaid. I am small, and I was never meant to be a hero.
I signed a rental lease yesterday, and today began the preparations for the pending move, which is in about three weeks. I sent off my first rent payment, and the bond. I am arranging to have my storage shed lease cancelled, I organised to have the electricity set up at the new house effective from my move in date, and now the only other things I need to do are make sure the gas gets connected, and cancel my gym membership…which has gone unused for at least the last two months. So, all in all, today I have been a real adult.
My new job is still going really well. I feel a little overwhelmed, and there have been more than a few times in the last two weeks where I feel like I’m not absorbing the information as fast or as well as I should be. It’s quite a complicated job, but I am hoping that I can keep barrelling on and do my best to stay ahead of the curve. Or at the very least, on par. However all those things aside, I’m really glad that I took the chance on the application and that I have come this far in the process. What makes the job even better are the people in my training group.
I’ve said before that I am not particularly good at making new friends. For a myriad of reasons, new friends and I don’t usually seem to stick. My work family are just a really rad bunch of people. There is a lot of laughter in that little training room, a lot of support, and daily shares of puppy photos. We have all fallen into a comfortable friendship in the last couple of weeks, and I feel really lucky to be in that group.
I’m in a very positive mindset at the moment, and I’m excited for the new changes and possibilities coming my way. It makes a nice change, that’s for damn sure! I’m going to leave you with a photo of the view I get to see every night on my drive home. It amazes me every time, just how far the distance stretches, and it makes me realise just how very small we really are.
This week was a little hard, y’all.
So far I’m really enjoying my new job. It’s really full on, but I think I’m doing ok. The guys I’m training with are all rad dudes, and we get along really well. Plus, I got paid today which is always nice. The drive in the morning has been ok, despite the getting up crazy early bit. It’s the driving home part that really gets to me.
I have had two very near misses in my car this week. One was earlier today and both have, regrettably, been my fault. Both ‘almost-accidents’ are the direct result of my overtired, over exerted brain. I think I’ll be spending a fair portion of this long weekend catching up on my sleep. I’ve been a little stressed, in between studying, and trying to organise house inspections, in addition to the whole work thing. Plus, it’s shark week, and that’s never pleasant for anyone.
I think I need a bit if relax and recuperation time this weekend, and then back to work on Tuesday. On the positive though, I’m fairly certain that I’ll be signing the papers for a new rental next week, so it should see an end to the early mornings and the long drives by the end of April. Yay!
Recently, I went into Big W looking for a specific book. I didn’t find the book I wanted, but I did leave with six other books instead. The Lonely Life of Biddy Weir was one of those six, one purchased on a whim because the blurb just captured my attention. It turned out to be one of the best books I’ve read in a long time.
As you can guess from the title, it is about a young woman called Biddy Weir. She is quirky, and misunderstood, and considered by everyone to be a little bit odd. In fact, she is so odd that Alison, the mean girl at her school, nicknames her Bloody Weirdo, and the consequences of that name stay with her all through her school years, and well into her adulthood.
As she suffers daily torment and abuse at the hands of Alison, her self worth slowly vanishes. Every happiness she has gets wrenched away from her, for the cruel entertainment of a bunch of girls. If I’m honest, the book is actually rather reminiscent of Carrie, albeit without the telepathy and the violent ending. But something about Biddy got to me, and stuck.
It is a heartbreaking story, and a familiar one. The one who dances to the beat of her own drum, is always the one left outcast and alone. Because even today, in our supposedly liberated society, to be considered weird is an insult. And Biddy is weird. But that is what makes her so special. Author, Lesley Allen, created a protagonist that I loved instantly, for all the reasons the other characters hated her.
The book is well written, has a steady pace, and is full of heart. It is beautiful in its sadness, and made me cry…and I’m not usually emotional. If you’re a little bit weird, I encourage you to meet Biddy. And I challenge you not to love her.
I finished my old job last week. This week I have been driving all over the state to meet the requirements for the new job I start on Monday. At 7am. In a location two hours away from my home. So guess who gets to get up at 4am on Monday…yup, you guessed it; this guy.
I am excited, and nervous, and worried that I won’t be good enough. I am applying for houses and getting excited about living on my own again, and I hope this time that I get a decent place to live. I can’t wait to have my own stuff again, instead of it all being locked away in a storage shed. I’m looking forward to hanging my art prints, and setting up my books and DVDs, and being able to play video games until all hours of the morning on my day off, and having a sewing room again. Basically I think the most exciting thing about this new job, aside from the better money, is the notion that I’ll be back living my happy little solitary life…probably with a puppy, for cuddling purposes.
My old job was never meant to be long term. In fact, I lasted there longer than I expected; nine months. My new job is in a call centre as well, but instead of answering questions about health insurance, I will be working with a different focus. Am I prepared? Yes, I think as much as I can be. And it’s something new, something different, something that I can see a a future in. We’ll see how I go.
Last week I took myself out on a date, and I went to see Lady Bird. I read a review a while ago by the guys over at MovieBabble and it piqued my interest, so I’ve been meaning to go see it for a while. I scored some free tickets for the cinema through work last year (the one good thing about my job) so I thought I’d take advantage of the midweek lull at the movie theatre, and the fact that it’s at the end of the showing cycle (both of these things contribute to less people to have to share a theatre with, y’all).
The titular character is played by Saoirse Ronan, and I’ll be honest here guys; if you don’t love her then we can’t be friends. The 23 year old Irish-American (swoon) actress is incredibly talented, and Lady Bird is just one more film to be added to her ever growing list of fantastic performances. Set in 2002 in Sacramento, California; it tells the story of Christine McPherson (self-dubbed Lady Bird) as she completes her final year of high school, and prepares to go off to college. As a teenage girl on the cusp of womanhood, Lady Bird is certain of what she wants, and determined to go onto better things; to break free from the monotony of her home town and go to live in a place that has ‘culture’. Of course, her desire to leave is at odds with her mother’s equally strong desire to keep her close to home, and just one of the many things the two butt heads over.
Under Greta Gerwig’s direction, this film has a sense of frank honesty, and she tackles the coming of age genre with a touch of humour, and attention to detail. If the goal here was to be as raw and real as possible, then Lady Bird comes through. I feel as though all the characters reminded me people I know, or have met. Everyone from Lady Bird’s upbeat and positive best friend Julie (Beanie Feldstein), to aloof, superior and somewhat condescending love interest, Kyle (Timothee Chalamet) was vaguely familiar to me. And each of the relationships in this film are essential to the driving forward of the plot. Though of course, the loving but turbulent relationship between Lady Bird and her mother (Laurie Metcalf), is at the centre of it all, as both women try to assert themselves in the face of conflicting interests and ideals.
This film was beautifully shot, with some really strong performances and a story at the heart of it all that I think most, if not all of us can relate to. Which of us hasn’t wanted desperately to move from our home town and experience something new? Which of us hasn’t dealt with those pressures from teachers, and indeed adults as a whole, in our teenage years? And which of us hasn’t gone through those mini existential crises, whilst we try to figure out who we are? Though the plot is not the most original (we all know that “girl ditches her true friends for new friends who turn out to only like the version of herself she’s created to impress them” trope oh so well), the performances make up for it. There’s something sweetly poignant about it, and it can’t be said that the film has no heart. With her directorial debut hitting home so accurately, I’d definitely be interested to see more of Gerwig’s creations in the future.
I hate the airport. It stresses me out. It makes me angry, and frustrated. At the airport, I am not a nice guy. Tensions are running high, and everything annoys me on a greater scale than usual. From time to time, I find myself there, though very rarely (if ever) for reasons of my own. Usually when I’m at the airport, it’s because I’m doing the pick up. Tonight, it was for my brother, who flew in from Darwin for his two weeks of annual leave.
I drove down, fighting my tired eyes by blasting the air con and loud music in my car, in an attempt to keep myself alert. It went smoothly enough at first, but there were the roadworks, which forced me to take a different and completely unknown route to the airport. Then there was the driving around, the finding a park only to then be ushered away because I had been there “too long”, then there was more driving and…well, I hate the airport.
If I’m lucky, all I have to do is find a park, pick up my person, and drive away. If I’m unlucky – and I usually am – I have to go through all the rigmarole, getting increasingly angrier with every passing moment. If I’m really unlucky, I have to actually go in to the terminal and do the baggage collection, and the waiting, and all that other not-so-fun stuff. Honestly, in no way do I envy those people who often travel for work, and spend a significant portion of their time checking in and out of terminals, collecting luggage, waiting in lines, getting randomly selected, hailing cabs or busses…
I don’t go on trips myself. At least, not the kind of trips that involve needing to board a plane. I’ve only ever had three occasions to catch a plane; once when my mother and I visited my sister in Queensland when I finished year 12, once a few years back for a compulsory work related assessment conducted in Sydney, and most recently to Queensland again for my sister’s wedding. On all three occasions, they were trips essentially planned by others, for purposes not my own. In fact, the only real holiday I’ve ever had was to Tasmania, and I travelled there by ferry. Not that that was a particularly pleasant experience either, but at least it was less stressful than the airport.
I like to go on solo adventures, and long drives. It might take me longer, it might even be more expensive. My butt might get sore, my eyes might get tired. But would I take those slight inconveniences over the much greater one of having to endure the airport? Every. Time.