Good morning jetlag! Well, It is 5:39am and I have woken up bright as a bunny, back home in Brisbanetown. Jetlag is well and truly upon me but luckily its most adverse effects are going to bed at a very sensible hour and waking up at a time that others of the unemployed would mock with great amusement.
The trip home has been, well, epic to say the least. There were snowstorms, flight delays, 5 extra days in Paris, 11 hour stop overs, Christmas Day at Heathrow, exit rows, histerical babies (also in exit rows) and stolen business class chocolate.
We arrived home on Monday 27th of Dec 1010, relieved and exhausted, exiting the plane with gusto, pushing our way through customs, determined to be the first to get our bags and get home. At the baggage carousel we waited, and waited....and then waited some more. The checked bags chugged on by, and with every new piece that was spat violently out of the baggage hole, I lost a little confidence that mine would be next. The other passengers from QF52 happily pick up their luggage, smiling, laughing, kissing their partners, high-fiving other successful baggage claimers and finally passed by me, bags in tow, whispering 'loser' and wearing their superiority proudly as they pushed their way out of the international holding area. My elated glad-to-be-home mood first turned into anger, then sadness, then apathy, then resentment, then anger again and finally self-pity. The bags were not coming.
After filing a report with baggage services I walked away not certain that I would recieve my bags and guitar at all.
2 days later, my guitar has arrived, my big bag however (with EVERYTHING I OWN in it) is still MIA.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Spent
Spent last night bragging about how I have an uncanny ability to make long distance transport with only minutes to spare.
Spent this morning trying to get another ticket to Paris because I missed my train at 8.02.
Spent last night partying with the Family Fisk in Switzerland.
Spent this morning bruised, broken and wondering just how much champagne one can consume before one realises they should indeed be in bed by now.
3 hours sleep. 5 hour train ride ahead. Jazz in Paris tonight (with any luck).
Spent this morning trying to get another ticket to Paris because I missed my train at 8.02.
Spent last night partying with the Family Fisk in Switzerland.
Spent this morning bruised, broken and wondering just how much champagne one can consume before one realises they should indeed be in bed by now.
3 hours sleep. 5 hour train ride ahead. Jazz in Paris tonight (with any luck).
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Switzerland ya!
Gots me an all day sandwich and I'm off to Switzerland for a few days. The tour finished last Friday and I spent a few days in Rennes with my sister from a Frenchy mister, Marie.
The tour was great but it's definitely a lot harder doing it in the winter. The summertime in France (and especially Brittany) is vibrant and exciting. The sun is out and people are happy to be alive. I definitely noticed far more reserved attitudes this time around. No wonder....it really is hard around this time of year. The sun hides longer in the earth's rotation, plants die, roads close, trains are delayed... but life must go on.
I feel like I drank enough wine on tour to considerably impact on the grape industry in northern France. They better get to replanting otherwise we could have some very angry frenchies next summer. Also, I am officially a smoker in France and a non-smoker in Australia. It is certain that if I lived in this fair country I would have NO CHANCE at giving up. It is simply unavoidable.
So since Friday I have been in Rennes and I am officially on holidays. Had the pleasure of attending 'Transmusicales', a festival attended by around 60,000 this year. One thing learned is that it don't matter where in the world you are, there will always be a healthy dickhead contingent at festivals. A second thing learned is that if you give me a VIP pass, don't expect that I will leave the glorious minimum dickhead comfort of the VIP bar. The theory has been tried and tested in Australia and France alike and the results remain undoubtedly stable.
Glad to be enroute to Switzerland, although, I did discover a hole in the toe of one of my boots last night. Probably not the greatest for trapsing through the snow-lined streets of Basel. Nevermind... got the gaff, taped it up, hopefully that'll do. Waaaah.
The tour was great but it's definitely a lot harder doing it in the winter. The summertime in France (and especially Brittany) is vibrant and exciting. The sun is out and people are happy to be alive. I definitely noticed far more reserved attitudes this time around. No wonder....it really is hard around this time of year. The sun hides longer in the earth's rotation, plants die, roads close, trains are delayed... but life must go on.
I feel like I drank enough wine on tour to considerably impact on the grape industry in northern France. They better get to replanting otherwise we could have some very angry frenchies next summer. Also, I am officially a smoker in France and a non-smoker in Australia. It is certain that if I lived in this fair country I would have NO CHANCE at giving up. It is simply unavoidable.
So since Friday I have been in Rennes and I am officially on holidays. Had the pleasure of attending 'Transmusicales', a festival attended by around 60,000 this year. One thing learned is that it don't matter where in the world you are, there will always be a healthy dickhead contingent at festivals. A second thing learned is that if you give me a VIP pass, don't expect that I will leave the glorious minimum dickhead comfort of the VIP bar. The theory has been tried and tested in Australia and France alike and the results remain undoubtedly stable.
Glad to be enroute to Switzerland, although, I did discover a hole in the toe of one of my boots last night. Probably not the greatest for trapsing through the snow-lined streets of Basel. Nevermind... got the gaff, taped it up, hopefully that'll do. Waaaah.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
A note from France
A quick update while I have internet access:
Berlin was rad. Or maybe I should say that Kreuzberg was rad because I pretty much did not leave that suburb. Saw great friends. Ate. Drank. Was merry. Froze my proverbial balls off I might add. Crazy cold in continental Europe right now. Not a lot warmer in France but when you have been living in around -10 every day, a balmy 2 degrees seems like a breeze. That said, there are some parts of Brittany that have been having their own extreme weather. Nearby Lannion, where we played two nights ago, there was snow on the beach. The last time this happened was 20 years ago. Understandbly, the weather is hot (pardon the pun) on the lips of every local and foreigner alike. Us Aussies are doing ok. The layers are on, gloves bought, heaters on, whiskey drunk and we are as comfortable as possible.
Tonight we go to Frugeres, a place the Frenchies refer to as 'the fighting capital of all of France'. Oh dear. Could be an interesting one...
Berlin was rad. Or maybe I should say that Kreuzberg was rad because I pretty much did not leave that suburb. Saw great friends. Ate. Drank. Was merry. Froze my proverbial balls off I might add. Crazy cold in continental Europe right now. Not a lot warmer in France but when you have been living in around -10 every day, a balmy 2 degrees seems like a breeze. That said, there are some parts of Brittany that have been having their own extreme weather. Nearby Lannion, where we played two nights ago, there was snow on the beach. The last time this happened was 20 years ago. Understandbly, the weather is hot (pardon the pun) on the lips of every local and foreigner alike. Us Aussies are doing ok. The layers are on, gloves bought, heaters on, whiskey drunk and we are as comfortable as possible.
Tonight we go to Frugeres, a place the Frenchies refer to as 'the fighting capital of all of France'. Oh dear. Could be an interesting one...
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Berlin baby!
Alive and kicking in Berlin. Spent the day walking, people watching, and finding the next warm cafe to sit drinking coffee in.
An update from yesterday's train ride. Wasn't able to post, no internets available till now:
Ok, I admit it. I was wrong.... I am dazed, confused and jetlag has officially kicked me in the b-hole. Almost an out of body experience, I am beside myself, amused at my own presumtuous declaration that I was victorious over jetlag.
Oh godd I really cannot think straight.
I really want a shower.... and a bed....... but mostly just a shower. Yessssss. A shower would make everything better in the world.
Still on the train to Berlin..... Just moments after I made my previous entry, the train I was on broke down and I ended up in a small southern German town for an hour or two. Apparantly we were at risk of freezing on train no. 1. Strange, because I was starting to feel quite comfortable, and getting out of said train to stand in snow filled streets for an hour did not seem appropriate for the result they were trying to achieve. Anyhow, they put us all on train no. 2 to Berlin, and everything worked out but this does mean that my transit time has been extended to a whopping 43 hours.
On top of this, the only thing I can remember in German is 'hallo! Frushtuck!" translating to "hello! Breakfast!".... Not that handy at 5.32pm I might add.
I also seem to have forgotten how to speak English and have resorted to telling the Germans, in French, that I can't speak French (or German) but that I can understand a little English.
I'm pretty sure no-one understands anything I am saying no matter what language I use. They are being totally lovely though. I'm getting an overwhelming sense of pity. 'Look out, hear comes that special girl again. She's so cute and stupid. She can't do annnything. Aaaaaaw.'
An update from yesterday's train ride. Wasn't able to post, no internets available till now:
Ok, I admit it. I was wrong.... I am dazed, confused and jetlag has officially kicked me in the b-hole. Almost an out of body experience, I am beside myself, amused at my own presumtuous declaration that I was victorious over jetlag.
Oh godd I really cannot think straight.
I really want a shower.... and a bed....... but mostly just a shower. Yessssss. A shower would make everything better in the world.
Still on the train to Berlin..... Just moments after I made my previous entry, the train I was on broke down and I ended up in a small southern German town for an hour or two. Apparantly we were at risk of freezing on train no. 1. Strange, because I was starting to feel quite comfortable, and getting out of said train to stand in snow filled streets for an hour did not seem appropriate for the result they were trying to achieve. Anyhow, they put us all on train no. 2 to Berlin, and everything worked out but this does mean that my transit time has been extended to a whopping 43 hours.
On top of this, the only thing I can remember in German is 'hallo! Frushtuck!" translating to "hello! Breakfast!".... Not that handy at 5.32pm I might add.
I also seem to have forgotten how to speak English and have resorted to telling the Germans, in French, that I can't speak French (or German) but that I can understand a little English.
I'm pretty sure no-one understands anything I am saying no matter what language I use. They are being totally lovely though. I'm getting an overwhelming sense of pity. 'Look out, hear comes that special girl again. She's so cute and stupid. She can't do annnything. Aaaaaaw.'
Friday, November 26, 2010
Europe ahoy!
So after an epic episode in transit involving delayed flights, drunken plane rides, nearly missed connections, lost guitars, broken french, and peak hour Parisians I find myself back in France, boarded upon a train to Berlin. By the time I reach my destination I will have had around 39hours in transit. Wow. Even I am impressed, surprised and mortified by that figure.
I feel surprisingly good. This may have something to do with the drunken Sydney/Singapore leg of the journey. For that flight, I was sat aside Tony and Ian, a lovely married couple from Portsmith, UK. They knew that I was their kind of gal when I swiftly ordered a red wine with dinner. Ian is a flight attendant for British Airways and had mentioned this fact to the onboard staff. Before we could secure our seatbelts low and tight, we were sipping first class wine, moisturising our faces with our business class toiletries, legs outstretched in the glorious comfort of an exit row, and celebrating Tony's imaginary birthday. And we celebrated, and celebrated, and then celebrated some more. The onboard staff just wouldn't let us stop. At one point even physically waking me to give me another tiny bottle of red. How could I refuse?? It was my friend's 'birthday' afterall...
8 hours passed, we landed, and Tony, Ian and their new fag hag rolled off the plane, giggling, silly, and completely directionless. This was ok for the boys since they were staying in Singapore for a couple of days but for Ms Drunky over here, not so great. I said some overemotional goodbyes to my new buddies, and stubbled off into the duty free paradise, trying to find my connecting departure gate. I had just under 30mins to do it. Now it's a wonder I actually found the gate, and a complete MIRACLE they let me on the flight. The last thing I clearly remember is trying to take off my boots in the security scan, which I am certain took suspiciously longer than it should have for a normal, sober, ok-to-travel passenger. Nevertheless, they let me on. Now, I must have got on, stowed my bags and completely passed out because 7 hours later, I woke up to breakfast and only 6 hours left of flying to go.
So I have definitely learned something from this experience....All this time I have been a non-drinking flyer in an effort to avoid jetlag. Well, screw that people. I feel great! I would recommend this approach for any dual long hauls you take. Get drunk first flight, sleep it off the next. Unfortunately we all can't be sat next to Tony and Ian though. Which really helped the cause.
Now, I am enroute to Berlin. Snow everywhere. Absolutely amazingly beautiful. Just saw elk out in the landscape. Ain't life grand.
I feel surprisingly good. This may have something to do with the drunken Sydney/Singapore leg of the journey. For that flight, I was sat aside Tony and Ian, a lovely married couple from Portsmith, UK. They knew that I was their kind of gal when I swiftly ordered a red wine with dinner. Ian is a flight attendant for British Airways and had mentioned this fact to the onboard staff. Before we could secure our seatbelts low and tight, we were sipping first class wine, moisturising our faces with our business class toiletries, legs outstretched in the glorious comfort of an exit row, and celebrating Tony's imaginary birthday. And we celebrated, and celebrated, and then celebrated some more. The onboard staff just wouldn't let us stop. At one point even physically waking me to give me another tiny bottle of red. How could I refuse?? It was my friend's 'birthday' afterall...
8 hours passed, we landed, and Tony, Ian and their new fag hag rolled off the plane, giggling, silly, and completely directionless. This was ok for the boys since they were staying in Singapore for a couple of days but for Ms Drunky over here, not so great. I said some overemotional goodbyes to my new buddies, and stubbled off into the duty free paradise, trying to find my connecting departure gate. I had just under 30mins to do it. Now it's a wonder I actually found the gate, and a complete MIRACLE they let me on the flight. The last thing I clearly remember is trying to take off my boots in the security scan, which I am certain took suspiciously longer than it should have for a normal, sober, ok-to-travel passenger. Nevertheless, they let me on. Now, I must have got on, stowed my bags and completely passed out because 7 hours later, I woke up to breakfast and only 6 hours left of flying to go.
So I have definitely learned something from this experience....All this time I have been a non-drinking flyer in an effort to avoid jetlag. Well, screw that people. I feel great! I would recommend this approach for any dual long hauls you take. Get drunk first flight, sleep it off the next. Unfortunately we all can't be sat next to Tony and Ian though. Which really helped the cause.
Now, I am enroute to Berlin. Snow everywhere. Absolutely amazingly beautiful. Just saw elk out in the landscape. Ain't life grand.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Sleepless
So, the Blasko tour is over and I am back to a semi-normal unemployed life. It has been a series of ups and downs to be honest. I am taking like a duck to water with the prospect of doing nothing all day, but as a consequence a whole week has gone by with virtually nothing achieved.
I arose this morning (after a night of insomnia, anxiety and absolute panic) with the intention to work out what the BEJESUS I am going to do when I get to Europe in a week. Again, I am a little concerned about money since I have less cash than I would desire at the start of a month long overseas trip. Another concerning factor is that I have turned into an incredibly needy and indecisive human being since finishing the tour with Seja. I can only put this down to the fact that I have not been alone for more than 5 weeks and have rarely had to make a decision for myself.
The thought of being on my own is nothing short of utterly terrifying, and being alone in a country where I don't speak the language..... oh my.
This hopelessness is not something that I like admitting to. I am generally a strong, confident and independent young woman, but my recent underlying fragility is permeating my subconscious.
That said, I'm sure everything will work out. I have travelled solo before with no problems. I just need to get on top of things and work out a plan. I am certain that this sudden neurosis is purely due to my tendency to procrastinate, my relaxed approach to planning this overseas jaunt and my incredible knack for being directionlessly unemployed.
Responsibilities. I forget how to do that already.
Another note about being unemployed... I have now officially turned into one of those arseholes that forgets that the larger percentage of the population has to work. What do you mean you can't drink with me tonight? Oh you have to 'work' tomorrow. Coffee today? Oh, you are at 'work'. I even put my foot in it (royally) the other night when I announced in front of a group of friends that "Full time jobs are for jerks", which was met with a stony silence and a bemused disapproval while I realised that every one of them was a full timer. GAH.
I arose this morning (after a night of insomnia, anxiety and absolute panic) with the intention to work out what the BEJESUS I am going to do when I get to Europe in a week. Again, I am a little concerned about money since I have less cash than I would desire at the start of a month long overseas trip. Another concerning factor is that I have turned into an incredibly needy and indecisive human being since finishing the tour with Seja. I can only put this down to the fact that I have not been alone for more than 5 weeks and have rarely had to make a decision for myself.
The thought of being on my own is nothing short of utterly terrifying, and being alone in a country where I don't speak the language..... oh my.
This hopelessness is not something that I like admitting to. I am generally a strong, confident and independent young woman, but my recent underlying fragility is permeating my subconscious.
That said, I'm sure everything will work out. I have travelled solo before with no problems. I just need to get on top of things and work out a plan. I am certain that this sudden neurosis is purely due to my tendency to procrastinate, my relaxed approach to planning this overseas jaunt and my incredible knack for being directionlessly unemployed.
Responsibilities. I forget how to do that already.
Another note about being unemployed... I have now officially turned into one of those arseholes that forgets that the larger percentage of the population has to work. What do you mean you can't drink with me tonight? Oh you have to 'work' tomorrow. Coffee today? Oh, you are at 'work'. I even put my foot in it (royally) the other night when I announced in front of a group of friends that "Full time jobs are for jerks", which was met with a stony silence and a bemused disapproval while I realised that every one of them was a full timer. GAH.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Words with schmucks
So the Blazzie troupe is having a Words With Friends (iPhone scrabble) tourament. I thought I would share some of the crackers that are getting laid down via the digital scrabble board:
Boob
Urine
Shat
Wad
Cock
Boon
Tits
Anus
Fart
Shit
Wank
Sex
Poo
Regardless of point count we all have been lowering our brows and striving for smut. So juevenille, but soooo entertaining.
In other news, only 2 shows to go! Both on the west coast in Perth. It's my first time on this side of the country.
So pretty, I could live here...
Boob
Urine
Shat
Wad
Cock
Boon
Tits
Anus
Fart
Shit
Wank
Sex
Poo
Regardless of point count we all have been lowering our brows and striving for smut. So juevenille, but soooo entertaining.
In other news, only 2 shows to go! Both on the west coast in Perth. It's my first time on this side of the country.
So pretty, I could live here...
Monday, November 1, 2010
I could live here...
Currently in the car, heading out of Sydney towards the ACT for our second Canberra show. The first was on Saturday night.
It is safe to safe that the city of roundabouts lives up to my expectations of being a pretty low key place. The venue is endearingly reminiscent of the House of Representatives with itchy green wool seats and the general vibe that some kind of press conference is iminent. The town consists of 70s business block after 70s buisness block, manmade lakes, circular driving and not a person in sight. Where are all the Canberrians? Where??? It was almost like we could be on the set of an apocolyptic zombie horror flick. Alas, the audience arrived (none undead from what I could gather) and a show was played. It's incredible that we got through it considering our heavily hungover bodies barely made it through sound check that day. Our sound guy James even thought it best to ask a couple of the female ushers if they could sing after hearing Seja and I in unison. The evening before was the Enmore show in Sydney, and being the Blasko band's hometown, some pretty epic partying was done. There was a collection of sore heads and livers the next day, my favourite post party comment being 'I feel like someone shat on my soul' from Sarah's guitarist, Ben Fletcher.
Before that we travelled through Bryon, Tamworth, Port Macquarie and Newcastle and it is safe to say that I am becoming a bit of a destination slut, my daily mantra being 'aaaw, it's so pretty, I could live here'. Not so sure about Canberra though...BRAAAAINS.
A note on Port Macquarie:
This would have to top my destination obsession so far. Such a beautiful place. When you end up in the waves, still drunk at 8am, watching dophins surf just metres away and whales frolicking in the distance, life can't get much better...
It is safe to safe that the city of roundabouts lives up to my expectations of being a pretty low key place. The venue is endearingly reminiscent of the House of Representatives with itchy green wool seats and the general vibe that some kind of press conference is iminent. The town consists of 70s business block after 70s buisness block, manmade lakes, circular driving and not a person in sight. Where are all the Canberrians? Where??? It was almost like we could be on the set of an apocolyptic zombie horror flick. Alas, the audience arrived (none undead from what I could gather) and a show was played. It's incredible that we got through it considering our heavily hungover bodies barely made it through sound check that day. Our sound guy James even thought it best to ask a couple of the female ushers if they could sing after hearing Seja and I in unison. The evening before was the Enmore show in Sydney, and being the Blasko band's hometown, some pretty epic partying was done. There was a collection of sore heads and livers the next day, my favourite post party comment being 'I feel like someone shat on my soul' from Sarah's guitarist, Ben Fletcher.
Before that we travelled through Bryon, Tamworth, Port Macquarie and Newcastle and it is safe to say that I am becoming a bit of a destination slut, my daily mantra being 'aaaw, it's so pretty, I could live here'. Not so sure about Canberra though...BRAAAAINS.
A note on Port Macquarie:
This would have to top my destination obsession so far. Such a beautiful place. When you end up in the waves, still drunk at 8am, watching dophins surf just metres away and whales frolicking in the distance, life can't get much better...
Monday, October 25, 2010
Home found and southward bound
The NSW leg of the tour has begun but not before we completed our last two shows in Qld.
The first was at the QPAC Concert Hall in our home of Brisbane. The crowd were quietly intimidating, lurking silently in the darkness just beyond the stage. Frighteningly aware that they were there, I went stiff as a board, with only a glass of wine to comfort me through the anxiety of playing on home ground. I took my first sip and upon returning the glass to the carpeted floor, it smashed into what seemed like a million tiny chards.
The first was at the QPAC Concert Hall in our home of Brisbane. The crowd were quietly intimidating, lurking silently in the darkness just beyond the stage. Frighteningly aware that they were there, I went stiff as a board, with only a glass of wine to comfort me through the anxiety of playing on home ground. I took my first sip and upon returning the glass to the carpeted floor, it smashed into what seemed like a million tiny chards.
I honestly have no idea how this happened. I placed it there so softly and carefully, only to have it disintegrate in my palms. It's like the hand of God himself had smashed the glass, passing his uncensored judgement on my enthusiastic drinking habits of the past few weeks.
For the rest of the set all I could think was 'now I will always be remembered as that trashbag that slashed up Sarah Blasko's feet in Brisbane'. Luckily our super crew had a vacuum nearby and were able to quickly clean up the good Lord's handy work.
Gold coast came after, offering a jovial Friday night crowd. I was surprised when one of the burly bouncers liked Seja's set and particularly my performance enough to want to shake my hand. It was a bit weird that he didn't have the same reaction to Renae (our drummer), who was standing right beside me. This is when I realised that he actually thought that I was Blasko. Renae informed me afterwards that he was calling out 'Sarah! Sarah!' in the lead up to the compliment but that I didn't hear him before he had grabbed me.
It's no wonder that upon receiving some complimentary feedback the next evening in Byron I responded with 'you do know I'm not Sarah, don't you?'. This time it was indeed for me. Unfortunately, I fear I may have come across as an epic wanker for assuming that they thought I looked like the gorgeous Blazzie. Oh man.
Day off today, relaxing at my friends Brett and Jenny's home in Lennox Head. It is affectionately known as Rancho Relaxo, and certainly lives up to its name. Early night tonight, off to Tamworth at dawn tomorrow.
For the rest of the set all I could think was 'now I will always be remembered as that trashbag that slashed up Sarah Blasko's feet in Brisbane'. Luckily our super crew had a vacuum nearby and were able to quickly clean up the good Lord's handy work.
Gold coast came after, offering a jovial Friday night crowd. I was surprised when one of the burly bouncers liked Seja's set and particularly my performance enough to want to shake my hand. It was a bit weird that he didn't have the same reaction to Renae (our drummer), who was standing right beside me. This is when I realised that he actually thought that I was Blasko. Renae informed me afterwards that he was calling out 'Sarah! Sarah!' in the lead up to the compliment but that I didn't hear him before he had grabbed me.
It's no wonder that upon receiving some complimentary feedback the next evening in Byron I responded with 'you do know I'm not Sarah, don't you?'. This time it was indeed for me. Unfortunately, I fear I may have come across as an epic wanker for assuming that they thought I looked like the gorgeous Blazzie. Oh man.
Day off today, relaxing at my friends Brett and Jenny's home in Lennox Head. It is affectionately known as Rancho Relaxo, and certainly lives up to its name. Early night tonight, off to Tamworth at dawn tomorrow.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Reef and Beef
Back in Brissie after 7 days of shows and driving down through regional Queensland. I wanted to do some blogging before now but little internet access (and too much fun) prevented the idea from eventuating.
So lets go back to a week ago. It was Wednesday in Cairns. Sunny.... warm... perfect!
Summer kindly got out of bed that day and decided to greet us congenially at Carins airport. We waiting in line at the Europcar desk, wondering what kind of sweet ride we would get for the Queensland leg of the tour and upon finding the car in the sea of hire vehicles, it could not have been a more perfect automobile.
We were allocated an electric blue, XR6 Ford Falcon with all the bells and whistles and a sweet spoiler to boot. We then proceeded to spend 15 mins draped over the car in every bikini model pose possible and realised that I had missed my calling as a car model. This role came incredibly naturally to me, oh how I worked it, pose after pose on every part of the car, Seja and Renae my unfailing Art Directors, encouraging me at every available moment to get sexier and sexier. It's surprising they didn't convince me to actually get into my bikini.
After 20 mins of this we decided to find the hotel and discovered that it had a pool with a cocktail bar beside it. What's more, it was happy hour and they were serving the best "Cairns Sunrises" money could buy. Understandably, we had deposited ourselves in the pool, cocktail-in-hand before you could utter the words, 'Tropical Paradise'. At 5pm, sun-struck and giddy, we stumbled our way up to the Cairns Civic Centre for the show.
Summer decided to take a sickie the next day. We drove to Townsville in rain that could only be described as biblical. It was me who had drawn the driving straw that day and it is sufficient to say that it was quite a stressful few hours. Seja was employed as front passenger with the noble duty of trying to entertain me during the drive and I boundlessly ignored her with a deep and all-consuming look of concentration. My efforts worked and we found ourselves safe and just outside of Townsville eating sundaes and the Frosty Mango. Mmmmmmm, suuuuuundaaaaes.
Mackay was fun. Little did we know that we would be met with a hallway full of trolls when going back to our dressing room after the show (Rock Eisteddfod was on in the adjoining auditorium). I couldn't resist taking a happy snap of the little buggers. I don't think their teacher appeciated me turning up with my camera and telling them to "do something silly" though, as she was trying (in vain) to calm them all down before their performance.
Rocky came next where my mother was proudly waving the welcome flag. We arrived and sat down with Mum in the kitchen, where she proceded to tell Seja and Renae all about 'Kate' (including the fact that the last time I had performed at the Pilbeam it was as the Tinman in my high school production of The Wiz). The best part though, was when she pulled out a clipping from that weeks local paper. It was a front pager, with a large picture of Sarah Blasko's face and the appropriate title of "KATE BEEFS UP CENTRAL QLD TALENT", there was barely even a reference to Sarah in the article, it was all about me (which I am certain made my Mother very happy indeed). It was lucky that we had a night off and an intimate crew dinner that evening so Seja and Renae could quikly on-tell all of my Mum's stories and have a good old chuckle about the "Kate" article with the Blasko troupe. I. Was. Mortified.
Show in Rocky went well the next night. Sarah dedicated their set to me and thanked me for allowing them to perform in my town. Everybody's a comedian ay.
Bundaberg and Nambour were next. Great shows. We are really getting into the swing of things now and I have to say that I was feeling a little sad to come home after the Nambour installment. I could really get used to this nomadic kind of lifestyle. Everywhere feels like home to me and I am adapting so easily to each new place. Blasko band and crew are amazing and everyone is starting to get along really well. Lots of laughs and backstage shenannigans. I assume this will only become more entertaining as we sail on.
On a side note, I must mention that in Bundaberg I tried to track down my first love, Dean. This was somewhat fueled by Renae and Seja (as we were talking about our first loves over cocktails in the pool in Carins and I had mentioned mine was from Bundaberg). It had been an awkward and unusual break-up more than 12 years ago, he was going through a rough time and long-story-short, we had a fight over the phone, I hung up, said to myself 'he can call me back' and he never did. Me being subborn as an ox, never called him back either. And that was the last time I spoke to him.
Anyhow, when the girls heard this story they insisted on us looking him up, and low and behold, it seemed that he was playing a gig at the local club on the day that we were in town. After an anxiety fueled and nothing but torturous lead up to us arriving at the club, I walked in and found out that there was a mistake in their gig guide and 'no Dean today'. This is crazy in hindsight, but I then wrote him a letter for them to give to him next time he was at the club. OH GODD WHAT AM I DOING???? I gave him my contact details and suggested that he get in contact if he wants to. Watch this space people.
So lets go back to a week ago. It was Wednesday in Cairns. Sunny.... warm... perfect!
Summer kindly got out of bed that day and decided to greet us congenially at Carins airport. We waiting in line at the Europcar desk, wondering what kind of sweet ride we would get for the Queensland leg of the tour and upon finding the car in the sea of hire vehicles, it could not have been a more perfect automobile.
We were allocated an electric blue, XR6 Ford Falcon with all the bells and whistles and a sweet spoiler to boot. We then proceeded to spend 15 mins draped over the car in every bikini model pose possible and realised that I had missed my calling as a car model. This role came incredibly naturally to me, oh how I worked it, pose after pose on every part of the car, Seja and Renae my unfailing Art Directors, encouraging me at every available moment to get sexier and sexier. It's surprising they didn't convince me to actually get into my bikini.
Sweet ride maaaate
After 20 mins of this we decided to find the hotel and discovered that it had a pool with a cocktail bar beside it. What's more, it was happy hour and they were serving the best "Cairns Sunrises" money could buy. Understandably, we had deposited ourselves in the pool, cocktail-in-hand before you could utter the words, 'Tropical Paradise'. At 5pm, sun-struck and giddy, we stumbled our way up to the Cairns Civic Centre for the show.
Summer decided to take a sickie the next day. We drove to Townsville in rain that could only be described as biblical. It was me who had drawn the driving straw that day and it is sufficient to say that it was quite a stressful few hours. Seja was employed as front passenger with the noble duty of trying to entertain me during the drive and I boundlessly ignored her with a deep and all-consuming look of concentration. My efforts worked and we found ourselves safe and just outside of Townsville eating sundaes and the Frosty Mango. Mmmmmmm, suuuuuundaaaaes.
Mackay was fun. Little did we know that we would be met with a hallway full of trolls when going back to our dressing room after the show (Rock Eisteddfod was on in the adjoining auditorium). I couldn't resist taking a happy snap of the little buggers. I don't think their teacher appeciated me turning up with my camera and telling them to "do something silly" though, as she was trying (in vain) to calm them all down before their performance.
Trolls
Rocky came next where my mother was proudly waving the welcome flag. We arrived and sat down with Mum in the kitchen, where she proceded to tell Seja and Renae all about 'Kate' (including the fact that the last time I had performed at the Pilbeam it was as the Tinman in my high school production of The Wiz). The best part though, was when she pulled out a clipping from that weeks local paper. It was a front pager, with a large picture of Sarah Blasko's face and the appropriate title of "KATE BEEFS UP CENTRAL QLD TALENT", there was barely even a reference to Sarah in the article, it was all about me (which I am certain made my Mother very happy indeed). It was lucky that we had a night off and an intimate crew dinner that evening so Seja and Renae could quikly on-tell all of my Mum's stories and have a good old chuckle about the "Kate" article with the Blasko troupe. I. Was. Mortified.
Show in Rocky went well the next night. Sarah dedicated their set to me and thanked me for allowing them to perform in my town. Everybody's a comedian ay.
Bundaberg and Nambour were next. Great shows. We are really getting into the swing of things now and I have to say that I was feeling a little sad to come home after the Nambour installment. I could really get used to this nomadic kind of lifestyle. Everywhere feels like home to me and I am adapting so easily to each new place. Blasko band and crew are amazing and everyone is starting to get along really well. Lots of laughs and backstage shenannigans. I assume this will only become more entertaining as we sail on.
Sarah's bass player Dave, having a little snooze mid show
Rumbos in Bundy!
On a side note, I must mention that in Bundaberg I tried to track down my first love, Dean. This was somewhat fueled by Renae and Seja (as we were talking about our first loves over cocktails in the pool in Carins and I had mentioned mine was from Bundaberg). It had been an awkward and unusual break-up more than 12 years ago, he was going through a rough time and long-story-short, we had a fight over the phone, I hung up, said to myself 'he can call me back' and he never did. Me being subborn as an ox, never called him back either. And that was the last time I spoke to him.
Anyhow, when the girls heard this story they insisted on us looking him up, and low and behold, it seemed that he was playing a gig at the local club on the day that we were in town. After an anxiety fueled and nothing but torturous lead up to us arriving at the club, I walked in and found out that there was a mistake in their gig guide and 'no Dean today'. This is crazy in hindsight, but I then wrote him a letter for them to give to him next time he was at the club. OH GODD WHAT AM I DOING???? I gave him my contact details and suggested that he get in contact if he wants to. Watch this space people.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Victoria down! ...Next up, Far North Queensland.
Having a day off back in my homeland of Brissie today. After some frantic uploading, downloading, catching-up, catching zees, and chasing tail I am now getting ready to pack the bag to head off to Cairns tomorrow, for the Queensland leg of the tour. All my dresses are washed but thanks to the relentless down pour that has been happening in South East Queensland come the last week, I have now resorted to drying my tour dresses with a travel hair dryer. Let’s hope this works, otherwise, it could be a very musty smelling tour van.
The rest of the Victoria leg was wonderful, including a very intimidating show at the Palais (next to Luna Park, St Kilda) on Friday. This building is purely imposing, holding around 2500 people.
Lucky that I couldn’t actually see anyone past the front row, otherwise I may have had a very real nervous breakdown.
Saturday we played the quaint and cosy Town Hall in Meeniyan.
Meeniyan is a small township about 2 hours South West of Melbourne and is home to a grand total of 420 people. Considering there was an audience of 200 strong on Saturday night, it is safe to say that half the town turned out for the event.
It was such a lovely experience including all of the small town trimmings and a good dose of authentic country hospitality. We took the leisurely scenic route to the town (and by ‘scenic route’, I mean accidentally getting lost in the neighbouring hills of the Tarwin), where after hitting a dirt road and driving by several massive property's we realised that we may indeed be heading in the wrong direction.
40mins and some help from Google Maps later, we arrived in Meeniyan where Suzanna (of the local CWA) showed us into the back stage area. There was tea, coffee, beer, wine, snacks, an open fire and a group of country-woman working hard in the kitchen preparing us an epic feast for that night.
It was pretty much the best food I had ever eaten...the fact that I had only really eaten cheese and bread for 4 days previous to this may well have contributed to it's overwhelming tastiness, but still, it was pretty darn good.
I am certain that the Meeniyan Town Hall experience is going to be one of the most memorable nights of the tour.
In general, the first week of touring had its ups and downs to be honest. At first I was feeling really quite shy and a bit overwhelmed by the whole big-tour experience. I felt like I was simply moonlighting amongst a bunch of pros. That said, by the time we got to Meeniyan it was starting feel a bit more natural to be hanging around a bunch of extremely talented strangers and I am starting to feel more and more comfortable with the whole thing as each day passes.
In other news, I got a call today from the local paper in Rockhampton (The Morning Bulletin) saying that they had had an ‘anonymous’ tip-off that I was coming to town as a part of the Sarah Blasko tour, and would I like to be interviewed etc etc. I have a sneaking suspicion of just who this ‘anonymous’ informer was, eh hem, ...Mum.
The rest of the Victoria leg was wonderful, including a very intimidating show at the Palais (next to Luna Park, St Kilda) on Friday. This building is purely imposing, holding around 2500 people.
Inside the Palais, omg omg omg omg omg
Lucky that I couldn’t actually see anyone past the front row, otherwise I may have had a very real nervous breakdown.
Watching Sarah's show from front of house at the Palais
Saturday we played the quaint and cosy Town Hall in Meeniyan.
Meeniyan is a small township about 2 hours South West of Melbourne and is home to a grand total of 420 people. Considering there was an audience of 200 strong on Saturday night, it is safe to say that half the town turned out for the event.
It was such a lovely experience including all of the small town trimmings and a good dose of authentic country hospitality. We took the leisurely scenic route to the town (and by ‘scenic route’, I mean accidentally getting lost in the neighbouring hills of the Tarwin), where after hitting a dirt road and driving by several massive property's we realised that we may indeed be heading in the wrong direction.
Ummmm, maybe we should check the address...
40mins and some help from Google Maps later, we arrived in Meeniyan where Suzanna (of the local CWA) showed us into the back stage area. There was tea, coffee, beer, wine, snacks, an open fire and a group of country-woman working hard in the kitchen preparing us an epic feast for that night.
Backstage at Meeniyan
It was pretty much the best food I had ever eaten...the fact that I had only really eaten cheese and bread for 4 days previous to this may well have contributed to it's overwhelming tastiness, but still, it was pretty darn good.
I am certain that the Meeniyan Town Hall experience is going to be one of the most memorable nights of the tour.
In general, the first week of touring had its ups and downs to be honest. At first I was feeling really quite shy and a bit overwhelmed by the whole big-tour experience. I felt like I was simply moonlighting amongst a bunch of pros. That said, by the time we got to Meeniyan it was starting feel a bit more natural to be hanging around a bunch of extremely talented strangers and I am starting to feel more and more comfortable with the whole thing as each day passes.
In other news, I got a call today from the local paper in Rockhampton (The Morning Bulletin) saying that they had had an ‘anonymous’ tip-off that I was coming to town as a part of the Sarah Blasko tour, and would I like to be interviewed etc etc. I have a sneaking suspicion of just who this ‘anonymous’ informer was, eh hem, ...Mum.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Amateur Hour
Ok, so I wasn't going to post today but I thought it would be fun (and shameless) to update you on the happenings of last night....
We went to Castlemaine and loaded into the beautiful Theatre Royal (built in 1859). What a venue. It was imposing, gorgeous, dilapidated, and nothing short of utterly charming. We had a quick game of Frisbee, where we discovered that Seja is arguably the most incapable human ever witnessed playing this sport. Nevertheless, we persisted, had some laughs and did a lot of running (to retrieve the rouge sporting equipment).
Sound check went well and everything seemed to be a-ok. Little did I know that I was indeed preparing for Seja's new show, Kate's Amateur Hour. We came onstage to do our set and everything was going well until "Sing Me The Song Like You Said". This is a song where I simply switch a sample on and off, play some shaker and then rock some distorted guitar at the end. Easy right???
....NOOOO. Not so simple tonight people. I had the guitar hanging from my back (a trick I had learned from Seja's old guitarist) and half way through the second verse the guitar strap disconnected and the Gretch dropped to the floor. It didn't stop here... Flustered, I then picked up the guitar and lent it against the amp (forgetting that I still needed it for the end of the song). I went back to playing the song sans guitar, until I realised I needed it, stopped playing again, fixed the strap and put the guitar back on. GODD. So anyway, I'm thinking that everything is totally ok now, get to the guitar bit, play the first chord and it sounds like a hundred tone-deaf felines screeching in unison.
There was not one string that was in tune. NOT ONE.
The embarrassment of this whole experience made me crumble. I pretty much forgot my bits to every song from then on.
I felt soooo bad, and in another 'girl band' moment, I may have even have shed a tear or two after the show.
Yep...I am so Rock'n'Roll.
In other news, here are some pics...
We went to Castlemaine and loaded into the beautiful Theatre Royal (built in 1859). What a venue. It was imposing, gorgeous, dilapidated, and nothing short of utterly charming. We had a quick game of Frisbee, where we discovered that Seja is arguably the most incapable human ever witnessed playing this sport. Nevertheless, we persisted, had some laughs and did a lot of running (to retrieve the rouge sporting equipment).
Sound check went well and everything seemed to be a-ok. Little did I know that I was indeed preparing for Seja's new show, Kate's Amateur Hour. We came onstage to do our set and everything was going well until "Sing Me The Song Like You Said". This is a song where I simply switch a sample on and off, play some shaker and then rock some distorted guitar at the end. Easy right???
....NOOOO. Not so simple tonight people. I had the guitar hanging from my back (a trick I had learned from Seja's old guitarist) and half way through the second verse the guitar strap disconnected and the Gretch dropped to the floor. It didn't stop here... Flustered, I then picked up the guitar and lent it against the amp (forgetting that I still needed it for the end of the song). I went back to playing the song sans guitar, until I realised I needed it, stopped playing again, fixed the strap and put the guitar back on. GODD. So anyway, I'm thinking that everything is totally ok now, get to the guitar bit, play the first chord and it sounds like a hundred tone-deaf felines screeching in unison.
There was not one string that was in tune. NOT ONE.
The embarrassment of this whole experience made me crumble. I pretty much forgot my bits to every song from then on.
I felt soooo bad, and in another 'girl band' moment, I may have even have shed a tear or two after the show.
Yep...I am so Rock'n'Roll.
In other news, here are some pics...
Thursday, October 7, 2010
On the road
Last night we had our first show in the delightful border town of Albury. We turned up late (after a vast tour of the outer suburbs, trying to get out of Melbourne), met 'The Blasko' and band, who are all lovely by-the-way, and completed the world's quickest sound check. After check we had approximately 23mins to get dressed, pretty our faces, forget to tune our instruments and warm up our vocal chords. I did however make time to eat some delicious cheese in this 23mins. There wasn't even enough time for me to get nervous (unusual since I am pretty much consumed by anxiety and neuroses 24/7). Never fear. Seja made up for this. Her widened doe eyes painted a thousand words.
We did ok. The usual first show hiccups (including a very 'girl band' moment of forgetting to plug in the guitar lead and then wondering why there was no sound). Tee hee, ooopsie! Being a theatre show I realised that there really wasn't enough light to see what I was playing on said guitar, and therefore played ALL wrong power chords in one song. Still, I managed to keep it together overall and I'm excited by the prospect of learning to play the guitar in complete darkness.
Sarah is shorter than I thought. Big personality though. I like her. She is like a smaller, better looking version of me so ...what's not to like eh?
After a slight rider mishap, our drummer, Renae, and I decided to take matters into our own hands a find a goddam bottle shop. We got white, red and a bottle of Canadian Club's finest (just for starters) and set afoot back to indie folk central. That's when Miss Katey officially put her party pants on.
Many wines, a few scotches and some embarassing photos later, we were safe in the hotel room. I barely remember putting my head to the pillow.
First show last night, first hangover today. I expect this is a sign of things to come.
Off to Castlemaine now.
We did ok. The usual first show hiccups (including a very 'girl band' moment of forgetting to plug in the guitar lead and then wondering why there was no sound). Tee hee, ooopsie! Being a theatre show I realised that there really wasn't enough light to see what I was playing on said guitar, and therefore played ALL wrong power chords in one song. Still, I managed to keep it together overall and I'm excited by the prospect of learning to play the guitar in complete darkness.
Sarah is shorter than I thought. Big personality though. I like her. She is like a smaller, better looking version of me so ...what's not to like eh?
After a slight rider mishap, our drummer, Renae, and I decided to take matters into our own hands a find a goddam bottle shop. We got white, red and a bottle of Canadian Club's finest (just for starters) and set afoot back to indie folk central. That's when Miss Katey officially put her party pants on.
Many wines, a few scotches and some embarassing photos later, we were safe in the hotel room. I barely remember putting my head to the pillow.
First show last night, first hangover today. I expect this is a sign of things to come.
Off to Castlemaine now.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
The endless weekend
Last night was an absolute doosie. To celebrate the beginning of my endless weekend there were drinks, great friends, ring-ins, laughs, raggamuffin, more drinks, hugs, kisses, megaphones, sneaky cigarettes, more drinks and so on and so on and so on. There was a jaw-dropping discussion on the human centipede, some enthusiastic dancing to white-man-blues and, in a last minute decision to pull over the cab on the way home, a fleeting appearance at Casablanca's karaoke. The unihibited version of Like A Prayer brought down the house no less. There may even be some footage of this. Deary, deary me.
In other news, I think I may have said all my goodbyes at work yesterday (to 60 odd people) with a delightful little snotball on my nostril. Unforgettable.
In other news, I think I may have said all my goodbyes at work yesterday (to 60 odd people) with a delightful little snotball on my nostril. Unforgettable.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
The final countdown
One work day to go!
I am currently sipping on Gin and Juice (Snoop Dogg reference intended) and thinking about what the future holds. Tomorrow I will go into work, pack up my desk, say my goodbyes and try to do as little actual work as possible. It's a totally surreal feeling. I certainly don't feel like I won't have a job at 5pm tomorrow, and I don't think it will really sink in until next Monday morning when I wake up at the grand ol' time of whenever-the-hell-I-like.
The Man is my bitch until further notice.
Fo' shizzle.
I am currently sipping on Gin and Juice (Snoop Dogg reference intended) and thinking about what the future holds. Tomorrow I will go into work, pack up my desk, say my goodbyes and try to do as little actual work as possible. It's a totally surreal feeling. I certainly don't feel like I won't have a job at 5pm tomorrow, and I don't think it will really sink in until next Monday morning when I wake up at the grand ol' time of whenever-the-hell-I-like.
The Man is my bitch until further notice.
Fo' shizzle.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Internal dialogue:
I should write my blog.
You can’t write you’re blog you are at work.
But this is my third last day, I shouldn’t be doing anything at work anyway.
YOU HAVE HEAPS TO DO BEFORE YOU LEAVE
Who cares.
I should eat something.
God I am tired… why am I always tired?
I should eat something.
Maaaaan, I am gonna get fat with all this constant eating.
I should go for a run tonight.
I wonder what there is to eat….
OMGONLY3DAYSUNTILIAMUNEMPLOYED
Fark, money money money money money.
What am I gonna wear in Europe?
KATE, stop thinking about what you are going to wear in Europe, that is ages away you spazz.
Ok blog.
*what to write what to write what to write*
...
...
...
I should eat something.
You can’t write you’re blog you are at work.
But this is my third last day, I shouldn’t be doing anything at work anyway.
YOU HAVE HEAPS TO DO BEFORE YOU LEAVE
Who cares.
I should eat something.
God I am tired… why am I always tired?
I should eat something.
Maaaaan, I am gonna get fat with all this constant eating.
I should go for a run tonight.
I wonder what there is to eat….
OMGONLY3DAYSUNTILIAMUNEMPLOYED
Fark, money money money money money.
What am I gonna wear in Europe?
KATE, stop thinking about what you are going to wear in Europe, that is ages away you spazz.
Ok blog.
*what to write what to write what to write*
...
...
...
I should eat something.
Friday, September 17, 2010
The Big Reveal
Ok, so I can now reveal that I am Kate Jacobson, Brisbane resident, non-smoker, virgo, animal-lover, middle-child, member of 'Texas Tea' (www.myspace.com/texasteaband) and recently added member of 'Seja' (www.myspace.com/sejamusic). This probably fairly underwhelming for anyone who doesn't already know me... "Kate who???" I hear approximately 3 and a half of you ask.
Anyhow, I had to remain anonomous for reasons previously explained and I thought you might like to know who I was eventually, so there you go.
Additional information:
Seja is the band that will be touring nationally, it is with none other than.... *drum roll puhlease*.... Sarah Blasko.
Texas Tea is the band going to France.
In other news, I have realised that THERE ARE ONLY TWO MORE PAYCHECKS UNTIL I AM UNEMPLOYED.
oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god.
Anyhow, I had to remain anonomous for reasons previously explained and I thought you might like to know who I was eventually, so there you go.
Additional information:
Seja is the band that will be touring nationally, it is with none other than.... *drum roll puhlease*.... Sarah Blasko.
Texas Tea is the band going to France.
In other news, I have realised that THERE ARE ONLY TWO MORE PAYCHECKS UNTIL I AM UNEMPLOYED.
oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Sealing my own fate...
So today my work posted as advertisment to replace me. Not before offering me the 12 weeks off, more money, and the job title I've always wanted, mind you. They even made me press the upload button on the Seek ad just to make sure I was certain. I must say, it was VERY tempting considering I have been particularly worried this week about how I am going to sustain financially. Call me crazy but I feel like the whole experience would be so different if I had a commitment waiting for me at the end of it.
This could be a very stupid decision. I don't know. Confused.
This could be a very stupid decision. I don't know. Confused.
Monday, September 6, 2010
She's a goner
Right. SORRY SORRY for no update on what happened. I am too busy even to manage my own blog.
So... I went in on Friday, printed out 3 copies of my resignation letter and waited for the Management Team to get out of their daily important-people-catch-up. They were taking a particularly long time on this occasion which did nothing for the butterflies straight from hell that decided to relocate to my gut. My tactic was this: wait till my main Manager got back from her desk, tell her that I needed to show her something, THEN lead her to the HR Managers desk where I would then quickly whisk them into the nearest meeting room.
As soon as I hit the HR Managers desk they both knew something was up. I sat them both down and told them that they had to read the letter because I was too nervous to talk. They both asked if I was resigning before even opening the document. I said nothing.
My direct boss read the letter out loud. It was short and sweet. It detailed the nature of why I was leaving and the reasons why I had decided to go ahead and take the leap. They couldn't really argue with what I had explained and after getting through the letter they both knew that there was no talking me around. They told me that they would like me to contact them as soon as I am looking for work again and naturally I was pretty surprised. As you already know, I was pretty nervous about what the outcome would be in this situation and was even prepared to be 'walked' from the building. Seems I got 'em on a good day. There's a tip for all you folk out there wanting to quit your jobs, do it on a Friday. Fridays get better results! Everybody loves Fridays! People are even better looking on Fridays (not that that will help with your job quitting situation, but it is good to know).
I must say, I had a tear in me eye when I handed in my notice. I do really love my job and I have a lot of great friends at my workplace. Some of which are now probably catching up on this blog, sorry for leaving you out until now friends, just couldn't take the chance.
So that's it. Into the mthrfkn wild!
So... I went in on Friday, printed out 3 copies of my resignation letter and waited for the Management Team to get out of their daily important-people-catch-up. They were taking a particularly long time on this occasion which did nothing for the butterflies straight from hell that decided to relocate to my gut. My tactic was this: wait till my main Manager got back from her desk, tell her that I needed to show her something, THEN lead her to the HR Managers desk where I would then quickly whisk them into the nearest meeting room.
As soon as I hit the HR Managers desk they both knew something was up. I sat them both down and told them that they had to read the letter because I was too nervous to talk. They both asked if I was resigning before even opening the document. I said nothing.
My direct boss read the letter out loud. It was short and sweet. It detailed the nature of why I was leaving and the reasons why I had decided to go ahead and take the leap. They couldn't really argue with what I had explained and after getting through the letter they both knew that there was no talking me around. They told me that they would like me to contact them as soon as I am looking for work again and naturally I was pretty surprised. As you already know, I was pretty nervous about what the outcome would be in this situation and was even prepared to be 'walked' from the building. Seems I got 'em on a good day. There's a tip for all you folk out there wanting to quit your jobs, do it on a Friday. Fridays get better results! Everybody loves Fridays! People are even better looking on Fridays (not that that will help with your job quitting situation, but it is good to know).
I must say, I had a tear in me eye when I handed in my notice. I do really love my job and I have a lot of great friends at my workplace. Some of which are now probably catching up on this blog, sorry for leaving you out until now friends, just couldn't take the chance.
So that's it. Into the mthrfkn wild!
Friday, September 3, 2010
Quitter
Today is the day.
I am going to walk into work in 30mins and tell them that I am resigning.
I'm absolutely certain that they have no idea.
Oh my.
I am going to walk into work in 30mins and tell them that I am resigning.
I'm absolutely certain that they have no idea.
Oh my.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
It's not you, it's me...
Ok, so I wrote my resignation letter tonight. Handing it in to the bosses Friday morning. Oh my...
This is all made worse by the fact that my bosses keep saying things like; 'Oh, we'll take you to Sydney next year Kate", "Why don't you want one of the new uniform dresses Kate?", "We want to employ someone like you who doesn't let their music get in the way of work Kate".
It feels like when you want to break up with someone but they keep referring to your future together. You know you are about to kick them in the balls, and they have no idea it's coming.
This is all made worse by the fact that my bosses keep saying things like; 'Oh, we'll take you to Sydney next year Kate", "Why don't you want one of the new uniform dresses Kate?", "We want to employ someone like you who doesn't let their music get in the way of work Kate".
It feels like when you want to break up with someone but they keep referring to your future together. You know you are about to kick them in the balls, and they have no idea it's coming.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Quit your job and get a real haircut - NOW WITH RSS FEED!
Ok, so after a lazy session of yelling expletives at my laptop screen, I finally asked someone who knew about the Internets to help me with this RSS feed thing. If it weren't for my lovely friend Stephen it would be near impossible to subscribe to this blog.
You can now also find it by searching the 'World Wide Web' I hear. And remember, you should always search on Google cause it is the best (insert million dollar sponsorship here).
Anyways, happy subscribing (if that's what you want to do...no pressure at all).
...
.....
......
.........TELL ALL YOUR FRIENDS TOO!
You can now also find it by searching the 'World Wide Web' I hear. And remember, you should always search on Google cause it is the best (insert million dollar sponsorship here).
Anyways, happy subscribing (if that's what you want to do...no pressure at all).
...
.....
......
.........TELL ALL YOUR FRIENDS TOO!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Thish ish a delicioush shhhampagne
So a few nights ago, in an effort to get some extra bucks, I agreed to some casual work at a fancy art gallery in a suburb for the well-to-do. The deal was, I pour expensive wines and open top-shelf beers for the wealthy local socialites who may or may-not be there to actually buy artworks. My shift goes for 2 hours, I can have a drink of the expensive wine while I do it, and I get paid 100 big ones for my time....can this get any better??
I went, I served, and dear Lordy, I drank. The champagne was incredible. It would've been rude not to drink it... (and by 'rude', I mean 'professional'). I didn't realise how pissy I was until I declared "Thish ish a delicioush shhhampagne".
After guzzling quite a few, I deployed myself to the cheese table, stuffing my face full of the delicioush cheeses and washing it down with more delicioush champagne while I cleaned the socialities empty glasses. In hindsight, probably not the greatest first impression to give the owners of the gallery since this could be a great casual money earner in 'The Summer of Kate'.... and understandably I'm not expecting a call back.
Quote of the night (from a local 'coulda been someone' artist who must've sniffed out the free booze):
When asked by the other female bartender if he was enjoying the art he replied "no, but I enjoy looking at the two of you". Oh dear.
I went, I served, and dear Lordy, I drank. The champagne was incredible. It would've been rude not to drink it... (and by 'rude', I mean 'professional'). I didn't realise how pissy I was until I declared "Thish ish a delicioush shhhampagne".
After guzzling quite a few, I deployed myself to the cheese table, stuffing my face full of the delicioush cheeses and washing it down with more delicioush champagne while I cleaned the socialities empty glasses. In hindsight, probably not the greatest first impression to give the owners of the gallery since this could be a great casual money earner in 'The Summer of Kate'.... and understandably I'm not expecting a call back.
Quote of the night (from a local 'coulda been someone' artist who must've sniffed out the free booze):
When asked by the other female bartender if he was enjoying the art he replied "no, but I enjoy looking at the two of you". Oh dear.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The Background: 'The Man' and me
I found this fact on the Internet so it is DEFINITELY true. Stupendous, horrendous, hazardous, tremendous. There is a good chance that these four words will perfectly represent the next few months in my life....
Before I get into the nitty gritty of why, let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Kate. I am 31 years old. I grew up in Rockhampton in a blue collar, middle class, labour supporting family. My dad was a train driver member of the ACTU. My mum is a nurse who has been in the same line of work for 46 years. From a very early age it was dictated to me that "you've got to work for a living Katie, you've got to pay the bills, that's just the way it is".
My first job was when I was 12, sweeping up hair and cleaning at the local hair dresser 'Hair By Lyn'. I got 6 bucks for 3 hours work. SLAVE LABOUR IS REAL, PEOPLE. Straight after work, I would take my 6 precious dollars and promptly go next door to the convenience store to by an Archie comic, a bubblebum slush puppy and approximately $4 worth of lollies. Life was good then. All I needed was sugar and books.
Pretty much since I left school I have worked full time (apart from a year or so where I may or may not have been a full time cone-puller). Mostly though, I have been a fine example of an upstanding citizen.
I didn't go to Uni. I didn't know what I wanted to do. So I just started working.
Getting a full time wage as a young person can be dangerous. I was earning some really good money working as Train Hostess on Queensland Rail. I liked to call us 'The Air Hostesses of the Ground'. I earnt, and I spent. Every last cent of it... and then some, getting myself into some pretty major debt, which stills lingers to this day.
So here I am. Still doing the 9-5. I currently work in Marketing as a Admin Assistant/Copywriter and I can honestly say that I like my job. Of course, it has it ups and downs and sometimes working for the man gets me down.
I am also a part-time musician. I would probably be considered an 'established' artist but I certainly make no money out of music. I think my last APRA writers cheque was for around $43. So not exactly throwing-TV-out-of-5-Star-hotel-room-window status yet.
So, a couple of months ago I got a call from a then-acquantaince/now-friend of mine, who had a unique offer for me. She asked if I would be interested in joining her band for a 5 week tour of Australia supporting a big time Australian alt-folk artist. I would be playing guitar, keyboards and doing backing vocals. She could pay me a small wage for my services. Umm, people get paid to do this???
I was flattered, surprised and confused. My inital reaction being 'You do know that I am not very good at playing guitar don't you?'. She has seen me play and insisted that I would be great. I'm pretty sure she still doesn't fully understand the illusion that I have created with my band. Yes, I am a musician, but I pretty much have NO IDEA WHAT I AM DOING most of the time.
I then thought about it a little more and came to the conclusion that there was no possible way I could get time off work to do the Aussie tour for 5 weeks in October/November, and then get ANOTHER 3 weeks off in December to do a European tour with my own band. The decision was made, I just couldn't do it. I had to be responsible.
After a week or so of day-dreaming and thinking how great it would be to quit my job and go on tour (but convinced I couldn't), I had an epiphany. Why couldn't I do it? Yes...I have debt. Yes...I have bills to pay, but I have some savings right?? JUST DO IT!!
And so, that is how I decided to quit my job and get a real haircut.
For the past 6 weeks I have been on a mission to pay off my credit card debt and save as much money as possible so I can support myself through the 5 week tour of Australia and then 3 weeks touring Europe during October, November and December. I have worked out the budget and if I live like the amish my savings will get me through until just before Christmas. It is VERY likely that I will be travelling to Europe in December with little more than a couple of hundred dollars in my bank account.
It is sufficient to say that I. AM. SHIT. SCARED.
This blog will document the ups and downs over the next few months. I will use it as a tour diary and an up close and personal account of my thoughts, fears and experiences over this time. At the moment I do need to remain anonomous, as my employer still doesn't know of my plans. But in due time, I will reveal myself (....perhaps another way of making money ---> this is a joke). Truthfully, I'm really scared about what will happen when I tell my employers that I am going to do this. It is a very emotionally charged workplace and there is every chance that they will fire me on the spot (throwing a proverbial spanner into my carefully planned budget).
I will be asking your advice, with ideas on how to make extra cash during this time and ways to save bucks here and there.
So there you have it. Watch me fail at life and disappoint my mum...
NB: My mum has actually been very supportive over the decision making process. (Hi Mum!). She was somewhat sceptical about my plan until I mentioned that we would be playing at Rockhampton's premier theatre, The Pilbeam. This changed everything. "You're playing at the Pilbeam?? Well, it must be something good then! Who is this person that you are supporting?". I am pretty sure half of Rockhampton knows about it already and that most of the audience will be there purely to see 'Margo's daughter' play.
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