Could it be?

It's been a while since the front page picture on our State's daily paper has sent a shiver done my spine.
But today I feel hope. I'm excited.
The West's page 1 picture says it all - Bill Clinton and Barack Obama arm in arm at an election rally.
Surely they can pull it off now. I mean, Australians got together and kicked Howard out after 11 long years in power. Surely the winds of change can reach across the Pacific Ocean and affect the US election result.
The last eight years under Bush have been an abhorration. The world has lost faith in the US as a 'superpower' and the world is a much more dangerous place because of some of his direct policies.
But I'm willing to forgive all that if the US votes in their first African-American president.
I'm willing to forgive all that if they dump the Republican party and vote for a party that cares more for its fellow people and the world at large.
I'm not dancing a victory dance just yet. But my heart is in my mouth.
Fingers crossed.

Did you know...

...that there is a condition - abbreviated to CIPA - that essentially means a person cannot feel pain or extreme temperatures?
Its full name is congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis. It is a condition involving the mutation of nerve cells which are responsible for transmitting signals of heat, pain and cold to the brains.
How do I know this, you might ask?
From Orhan's blog The Death of Retail Price. Sure, Kate and Observer caught on before me. I'm a bit of a newcomer, but that doesn't make his blog any less awesome.
Check it out.

Sick days

It's interesting being the boss these days.
I've had no less than three separate staff members struck down by gastro in the past few months.
I'm beginning to think gastro is the new 'food poisoning'.
Now, I'm not here to pass judgement. Some of those staff members may well have had gastro. I've never had it before, so I'm not really one to judge how long it would take you to get over it. I suppose it's different for different people.

I do know, however, that my sister had gastro recently. She was seriously ill and had to take three days off work. Which makes me wonder if a one-day recovery from gastro isn't a little fast.
Incidentally, I also got an email one morning saying one of my staff members, who had previously used the gastro excuse, had food poisoning.
I didn't believe him - but that's mainly because he's not a trustworthy member of staff.

The thing is, you can't really "not believe" someone if they call in sick. It's not fair. But at the same time, I've used the food poisoning excuse before. When I didn't have food poisoning.

A former employer once told me they had a staff member whose grandma "died" three times over the course of 18 months. Needless to say, third time was a charm.
My rate of sickies isn't particularly high, but usually the common cold is the best excuse - if you can pull off the symptoms, that is.
Which makes me wonder, dear readers, what are your best excuses for calling in sick when you aren't actually sick?

Otis Redding - My Lover's Prayer (1966)

Spend the time and have a listen to this song.
I heard it on an episode of the Sopranos the other day and looked it up.
This is real music, with passion and emotion.
I love it.

We've been here before...

Any regular reader of this blog will know of my deep love for the show Heroes.
It is pretty much my favourite TV show ever.
But I'm a little concerned.
After a brilliant first season, I recently watched the second season in it's entirety (thanks Bri) and am now onto season three, courtesy of a friend in the features department at work (thanks Ross).

Let me explain. I watched the first episode of Lost. It was a brilliant pilot, full of promise and enough to get anyone interested in the show. But six seasons later, the show has become a mess. I stopped watching after season one, when the script writers refused to answer any of the questions raised by the show. Rather, they raised more questions. Before long, a show that had a definite goal - for everyone to get home - became convoluted and messy.

After watching the first five episodes of the third season of Heroes, I'm starting to wonder if the same will happen to this show. Sure, Heroes doesn't have a definite goal, so it's going to be less frustrating than Lost, but it is starting to raise more questions than answers.
And that has me a little worried.

No...

...I will not do a story about:

a) your car being broken into. This shit happens every day. Talk to the police.

b) your 'good cause' story sponsored by a multi-billion dollar global corporation. They can pay for advertising.

c) the fact that the gardener at the school across the road from you disturbs your slumber at 7.30am every morning by using a leaf-blower.

d) your missing cat. I'm sorry, I'm sure you feel terrible, but go put some flyers up.

Stupid, stupid, stupid

I could bitch and moan about how my 'competition' newspaper, a stupid, worthless rag whose name isn't even worth mentioning, has just hit new lows.
But I won't.
Instead, I'll just direct you to Observer's blog. She's done it all for me.

Quick question

What do you think of the name Pandora for a baby girl?

The Flip Side

As I type this blog I'm sitting in the loungeroom of the lovely new house I moved into today.
Now don't get me wrong - I'm not here to gloat - but I just need to share with you guys how I'm feeling at the moment.
Right now, I'm not far off calling 2008 The Best Year Of My Life.
Unnecessary use of capitals, perhaps, but I really can't stress enough how happy I am right now.

In the last six months alone I have had a job promotion (in the process getting away from the office - and boss - that I moaned about quite regularly in this very forum), a pay raise, a wonderful new girlfriend and a new car.

I've also started to get on top of my finances - something I'd not been able to do my entire life before recently - and have moved out of the house I hated into one with one of my best friends.

It's sickening, I know, but life is seriously looking up.
And that makes me smile.

The Battle of Long Sandwich

So we went to the 2009 season launch of a local theatre company last night at Government House.
After arriving midway through the speeches, we took up pole position at the back of the room and knuckled down.
Soon after arriving, it became apparent that while the alcohol was free-flowing, there was a severe shortage of finger food.
Then, out of nowhere, a waitress walked to the table I was standing next to and plonked down a full tray of gourmet sandwiches.
I thought all my Christmases had come at once.
I picked up a sandwich and started to congratulate myself on standing in such a fine position for the speeches, until I noticed a shadow over my shoulder.
Another man, who obviously hadn't had the chance to grab dinner before the launch, had seen the opportunity of a platter full of sandwiches and moved nearby.
Then it began.
I'd take one, pause for what I thought was a respectable amount of time, then have another.
My competitor shadowed my every move.
It was almost like an arms race until, before we knew it, there was only one left on the plate.
I glanced at the sandwich, then at the competitor, sizing him up.
He did the same to me.
Then he leaned forward and made some comment about the speeches.
It was a clever move, designed to throw me off guard while he claimed the sandwich for himself.
But in a brilliant counterattack, I swiped the remaining morsel as I leaned towards him to listen to what he had to say.
Turning around, I smugly devoured the sanwich, feeling his cold hard stares on the back of my head.
But it didn't matter.
Victory was mine.