tigertail in new york

Aside from being a great Stevie Wonder track, very superstitious describes my illogical, irrational belief in all kinds of jinxes, hexes, weird tricks of fate, karma, feng shui, curses, evil eyes, santeria and superstitions.

I won't walk under ladders, I throw salt over my left shoulder if I spill some and I truly believe that if I'd managed to curse my thieving tour guide in Vietnam for seven generations, he and his family really would have suffered. I tend to leave black cats out of it tho' - cos I like kitties ;^)

I know all this behaviour can't be rationally explained. But I've never been a conventionally logical or rational person. One of those personality profile things you do once described me as having my own internal logic and belief systems that could be added to and subtracted from as the need arose, without causing any kind of conflict, doubt or loss of faith. I think it was incredibly accurate. And I've been to a whole lot of different places in the world and seen things with my own eyes that can't be scientifically or rationally explained either.. so there you go..

So I'd been feeling like maybe the universe was a little against me - two jobs lost, one guy I'm dating being slack about returning my phone calls, none of my hustling for work coming to fruition and a general sense of malaise. I wondered what it was I'd overlooked - why was my nasib, my fate, so bad at the moment?

Then I remembered that Chinese New Year and come and gone, and suddenly thought that maybe the feng shui pig I'd had attached to my wallet from last year was too strong in the year of the Pig. I was down near Canal Street, and so suddenly I was on a mission to find a replacement for this year. I had to dodge sellers of fake handbags, perfume, "designer" watches, but finally I found a little store selling what I was looking for - a rabbit for this year, because I'm a Tiger.. I can explain it all if you want, as it was once explained to me, but just trust me on this one :^)

Literally half an hour after swapping them over, I got a call from a guy I'd met a few months back in a networking situation, asking if I'd be interested in taking on a Head of Department (read Manager) role on an independent feature, and then the next day I was asked to come in for an interview with a different production company as well.

So - in a complete whirlwind turn of events, I had two interviews in one day; worked another one-off freelance job in a slightly different, more varied role than before, and I've just started working on the feature!

I'm also having drinks this weekend to celebrate my (belated) B'day and 6 months in the city, with some of the great people I've met since moving here..

So things looking up a little - maybe due in part to a little jade rabbit...

Posted by Ness at 10:06 PM | Permalink | Comments

Back home in Sydney there is a State election going on, our Prime Minister made a "secret" visit to our troops in Iraq but refused to say when they might be able to come home, diplomats and journalists covering the Foreign Minister's visit to Indonesia aren't accommodated in the VIP section of the official plane and so several die in a plane crash on the commercial flight they'd taken instead.

But in typical larrikin fashion, the main stories I hear about today are a pro surfing woman getting bitten by a shark and blithely saying it was just like a small dog bite, and this - a tribute to Borat and pubic hair...


IT WAS a morning of pimply cheeks, hairy buttocks and waxed nether regions as the contestants for the Borat-inspired "mankini" competition strutted their stuff at Martin Place yesterday. A sobering, if not disgusting, display of the male anatomy, the parade of five finalists had the hosts, radio talk jocks Merrick and Rosso, squirming, especially when contestant number three, Steve of Rockdale (aka "Pubes of Fire"), performed a few cartwheels and risked full-frontal exposure.

But the day belonged to contestant number five, the hairiest and most daring, Matias Stevens. Bounding onto the stage with a Borat beam and accent to boot, Matias then pashed judge Dicko (of Australian Idol fame) on the lips.

The judges considered "hair displacement, cuppage and tortion" and Dicko anointed Matias as the mankini king, proclaiming: "He is clearly the one with his embarrassment gene removed."

But the joke was on the judges. Matias, 28, is a recent NIDA graduate, originally from Brisbane. He embodied the Borat fake-personality perfectly and walked away a winner.

"When I was back in Queensland for Christmas I had a moustache, and people would stop me in the streets saying I look like Borat," he said. "They took photos and everything. Everyone told me I had to enter this. I'm also the biggest fan of Ali G and Borat." Or is the joke on him? The prize? Return air fares for two to Kazakhstan, including five nights accommodation.

"Is there even a cafe there?" Stevens asked.

Source: SMH

Posted by Ness at 12:12 PM | Permalink | Comments

I was made redundant (as we like to say back home) from another job recently. Unlike the first time where production is likely to pick back up in June, this was something that was supposed to go for 5 weeks and I only got to work 2 of them. The reason behind it may or may not have been legit, but I'm going to trust the gods and believe the reason they gave me, which was around a budget issue, cos I'm trying to be positive and not think badly of people.

In any case, this is how this industry goes - I know this. HOWEVER, unlike last time where I'd been burnt by telling people I wasn't available, I had been very coy about exactly how long this gig was. In fact 2 days before I got a phone call to say it was all going to be over, one of the companies I work for had asked me how long I was going to be on that job, and could I tell them when I wouldn't be available.

"Oh, I'm not 100% certain, things are still a little up in the air", I'd responded, feeling a little bad for not being completely honest, but remembering what had happened last time.

Sure enough, this was the best answer, because a few days later I was back on the phone trying to see if they'd already found someone for the job they'd offered me a few days earlier that I'd had to turn down, and luckily they could still slot me in.

But more disappointingly, I had been offered some fill-in production co-ordination work, that I'd had to turn down, and when I tried to pick it up again, they'd already given it away...

Back to hustling for work...

Posted by Ness at 12:20 AM | Permalink | Comments

Article 25.

(1) Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.

I've moved from a country with free healthcare for all (save medicare being destroyed by the current government - vote to ensure its survival people!) to a country where people can be turned away from medical services if they have no health insurance, and you hear stories of people digging bullets out of themselves rather than pay to go to hospital.

I hadn't been feeling the best for a couple of months, and wasn't really sure how to go about going to the doctor. I'd heard horror stories of hundreds of dollars for a basic check up, and whenever I tried to investigate clinics for people with no health insurance, the requirements to prove lack of serious income were always hard for me, given that I'd only been here a while and didn't get paid a salary.

I finally found a clinic not too far away that only required I bring in the documents I had. The entire visit took 4 hours, but the doctors were great, I walked out of there feeling better and the whole thing was free. They have a dentist, general healthcare, women's health services, community outreach programs and much more. Not all of it will be free, even to those of us making very little money a month, but there are also people to help you sign up for government sponsored health insurance for lower-income earners and to give you advice on where else you can go to get help. Glad to know that being not so well off has some benefits!

I was really glad to know that such a clinic existed. I'm lucky - if I went home tomorrow I'd be able to go to the doctor for free, or if my freelance work suddenly picked up dramatically I could join the freelancers union and get health insurance, or if I suddenly landed a well-paid permanent job with health benefits (well, we can all live in hope, can't we?) then I'd be in a better position to get all sorts of health things covered (like a massage for my sore shoulders, acupuncture etc etc.) But for some people, none of those things are ever going to be an option, and when it doesn't look like the US is going to introduce universal healthcare anytime soon, you've got to be able to have services that help support those who need it.

A friend of mine suddenly had heart palpitations the other day from a supplement he was taking. He went straight to the emergency room at the hospital. It was a public holiday here, and he has no health insurance, because, like me, he works freelance at the lower end of the scale, and can't afford it. He still hasn't seen the bill, but he's worried about how much it's going to be... I'm just grateful he's ok, and that I haven't ended up in that situation.

Posted by Ness at 12:03 AM | Permalink | Comments

An actual conversation I had on the phone this past week with a large electronics store... let's call it Tech Town

1st Call
Tech Town Operator: Hello, welcome to Tech Town, how can I help you?
Me: Oh hi, I need to exchange a photo printer I bought in the store yesterday..
TTO: I'll transfer you
sound of phone buttons being pressed; dead silence

2nd Call
Tech Town Operator: Hello, welcome to Tech Town, how can I help you?
Me: Hi - I need to exchange a printer..
TTO: I'll transfer you
Tech Town Guy: Computers
Me: I need to return a printer. It's the HPA516. I bought it yesterday; it doesn't work. I need to know if you have any more in stock because when I bought it it was the last one on the shelf.
TTG: Let me check for you.
Goes off to look, comes back, tells me the model number doesn't exist. I say it does I'm looking at a box. Eventually he discovers that it's for printing photos
TTG: Oh, it's for photos? You'll have to speak to the camera section. I can't tell you that from here.
(Note: I've been in the store - the camera section is 200 feet from the computer section)
TTG: I'll transfer you.
Transfers me back to the Operator
TTO: Hello, welcome to Tech Town, how can I help you?
Me: Can you transfer me to Cameras?
TTO: I'll transfer you
sound of phone buttons being pressed; dead silence

3rd call
Tech Town Operator: Hello, welcome to Tech Town, how can I help you?
Me: Can you transfer me to Cameras?
TTO: I'll transfer you
Me: Hold up. I've been cut off twice now when you've transferred me, so can you just make sure I get through?
TTO: Ok
transfers me through to the automated centre which directs me back to her

Hang up after 20 minutes incredibly frustrated

Posted by Ness at 1:36 PM | Permalink | Comments

Today is my birthday - Tuesday March 6th. I'm sitting here on my own in a room in a back office of a large studio. No-one here knows it's my birthday.

I've had some emails, calls from home and a few messages on that omnipresent networking site that everyone here is on - and that has been lovely - soooo good to hear from people. My parents still haven't called me - but I did speak to them last week, so maybe that was it? But other than that, it's kind of like having a secret birthday.

In some respects it's kind of sad to have a secret birthday - no-one wishes you happy birthday, no-one buys you cake, no-one makes a fuss of you. And when you've moved to the other side of the world, not all of your new friends know it's your birthday either, and I'm not one to brag or blow my own horn, so don't really feel like ringing up everyone I know and saying "hey - it's my birthday - make a fuss of me!"

However there is a benefit to having a secret birthday when you're working at a new place - you avoid the horror of the "fake-happy" celebration of your birthday by co-workers who don't know you.

I've had good birthdays, bad birthdays and a few that I don't like to think of cos they're a little painful. In terms of office birthdays, the last place I worked in Australia was great. It was a chance to catch up with people, and everyone was friendly and sociable, so we all enjoyed it. It even got to the point where one of us (in fact that would be you Kimba) bought silver cake forks for our section, just so we could celebrate birthdays in style. Ah, good memories...

But by far the worst office birthday I ever had was just after I'd returned from living overseas and I started working at a music production company who composed music and did post-production for tv shows and commercials.

The place was medium-sized, but had started as a 2 person company, and those 2 people didn't know how to let it grow larger without them having control of everything: 2 employees (including a long-term 8 year employee who was married to another employee) were fired in my short tenure there. There was also a very insecure production assistant who copied everything I did (wearing similar clothes, bringing her lunch instead of ordering, reading the same book at lunchtimes) who tried to make things difficult for me because she thought I was trying to take her job.

Somehow the receptionist found out it was my birthday. She got everyone to sign a card, got everyone in the Melbourne office and the one office overseas to send a birthday fax through, bought a cake and champagne, and organised a get together with speeches.

How nice! - I hear you saying... well, no.. the whole thing was done with such a sense of duress by all the staff, and with such bad grace - including messages such as "I have no idea who the hell you are, but happy birthday" - that it felt totally forced and contrived. The icing on the cake (ha ha) was the speech given by one of the Directors, who I hadn't worked with at all, and who really didn't know me. He made a slightly tipsy speech - this was 11 am - about how he was sure I was a great gal and if he ever got to work with me he was sure he could think of nice things to say, but cos he hadn't he was at a loss for words.

Needless to say all I felt like doing was dropping through a hole in the floor - especially as it hadn't even been my idea in the first place. Either that, or bitch-slapping the stupid we're soooo cool and ironic that we think this is very funny at your expense smirks on people's faces.

I left soon afterwards to make a film. I found out years later that the very young girl they'd hired to "buy lunch / do odd jobs" and was the reason they didn't create a permanent position for me (read: she was cheaper to hire than me and had had no experience) ended up becoming a drug supplier to many of the staff especially when they were all hanging out at some of Sydney's dodgier nightclubs... classy

*don't ask me about the picture - that's what google gives you for "office birthday"..!

Posted by Ness at 12:45 PM | Permalink | Comments

I've just returned home from shopping at El Mundo - the Spanish dept store near me. One of my roommates has stopped shopping there because she says the quality of stuff isn't great, and the prices aren't really all that cheap for crappy stuff.

She's probably right, but when you need some stuff for round the house - like a bucket, dustpan, plastic food containers and window cleaner you just can't beat shopping at a place on your street corner.

It's kind of a cross between a 99c store (that's a $2 shop for people back home - guess exchange rates can make differences everywhere!) a lower-end department store, and the markets. I once saw a guy try to bargain for things at the counter, which the staff weren't too happy about.

I've been trying to get a mirror for my room since I moved in. I have a small one from El Mundo, just so I can put on make up, check my hair etc, but getting a full length one there was out of the question. All the frames were hideous ornate gold things that would look more at home in a Dracula movie, or something about the French Revolution to show how crass the bourgeoisie were.

But today they had cheap full length mirrors with simple black frames that are light enough to hang on a wall! This is great, as my other option has been Bed Bath & Beyond, and negotiating the subway with a full length mirror, or catching a cab, which adds a lot of money to the price.

I took my purchases up to the counter. The clientele of El Mundo is as diverse as the neighbourhood, but a large majority speak Spanish, as do all the staff. Usually it's a bit hit or miss as to whether I get spoken to in English or Spanish - sometimes one, sometimes the other, depending on who's behind the counter, and whether I'm wearing casual neighbourhood clothes, or not. Since I've had my hair done it's a bit darker, and although it's no longer straight, perhaps I look a little more "spanish-speaking".

Today was straight up Spanish - we had an entire conversation: discussions about prices, specials, a small error when ringing up 2 items, the deal to fix this error, and where the customer copy of the receipt had gone. Not once did she switch to English, which has happened in the past when I didn't know the Spanish for "plastic container that could be used to catch dripping water from the leak in the ceiling". So either my Spanish is regaining its complete fluency, or I just blend well enough for people to ignore a few grammatical errors.

Posted by Ness at 5:45 PM | Permalink | Comments