I’m not impressed with the NY Times. Now you have to sign up to read everything. And while it costs nothing, it’s something I cannot be bothered to do – yet. Signing up for things is a hassle. It takes time to fill out all those fields, and then a confirmation step, and no doubt it will somehow end up in unwanted spam/ads in my inbox. But I’ll probably succumb very soon…there were about ten different pieces I wanted to read this week. I like Maureen Dowd, and their feature type, home and living, lifestyle and random stories. So, how gutted was I to see ‘to continue reading you must be a member’ on every single one?
Browsing category: Uncategorized
I’m not feeling super good about myself. Just got confirmation of my 2009 allowance. I also got my fees invoice in to the scholarships office, and to the bank to renew my tertiary account.
So why the downer? Well, the application process more or less required me to do some badmouthing and emphasise all the negatives of my family. I didn’t enjoy doing that. Especially once my mother told me she would pay for my laptop.
I haven’t had very good luck with computers. My old one died on me numerous times. The second to last time they even donated me an old CRT screen – bulky as hell, weighed almost as much as me. When it died for good and I was looking for a new one they offered me their desktop system. Even shortly after I first moved out, I was offered my mum’s spare laptop.
Why did I say no both those times? Well, I guess it’s a matter of pride. I am by nature a proud person. i’m twenty years old, though I feel much much older and as part of having been independent for so long I feel totally responsible for all my own affairs. A computer is a basic need for me, and I should pay for it myself. I don’t want to owe anyone, least of all my parents, in spite (or because of?) past events. I know my brother gets a lot more than I ever did, but that doesn’t make me want “my share” more at all. I don’t know, I just think I’m on my own, and that’s the way it should stay unless I really am in dire, dire straits. i wouldn’t feel good about it. Although I of course appreciate the offers. I just didn’t want to take anything that easy.
But after this set back, and facing paying close to another grand out of pocket, I said ‘let’s go halves’. Kind of a compromise that I can accept. I just don’t want my savings to dwindle by that much; I’ve pretty much realized it’s near impossible to build up any sort of savings while still studying, probably even more so this year given trips and materials costs and who knows what else. My savings has pretty much remained at the same level for a couple of years now, once the ins and outs are leveled out. I have over a grand tied up as bond money with tenancy services, but that sure doesn’t feel like mine.
Paying just half will be massive; between mystery shopping, overtime and my story assignments it should only cost me $200-300 out of my account. I don’t think this is too much to accept, and I’ll try to accept the gift graciously.
Dress codes
A Bank of England memo to staff on how they should present themselves:
“Look professional, not fashionable; be careful with perfume; always wear a heel of some sort — maximum 2 inches; always wear some sort of makeup — even if it’s just lipstick.” Shoes and skirt must be the same color. No-no’s include ankle chains — “professional, but not the one you want to be associated with;” white high heels; overstuffed handbags; an overload of rings, and double-pierced ears.
Jeepers. How’s that for a dress code? I may bitch about not being able to wear jandals to work (although occasionally I do, nice bronze ones though with beads on them) but apparently, I’m comparatively well off.
Plus, if I’m not wrong, do we not only see the top half of most bank staff? Even less, if you’re short. We have to peer over the tall counters to see them, making it pretty much impossible to see below their waist. That’s why you see bank staff in uniforms strolling to and from work in their jandals. Nobody sees their feet…
Phone woes
I really hate talking on the phone. Yet once I get into the swing of things, I think I do it quite well. Of course, it requires me warming up. When I know I have to make an important call, I start hyperventilating…I get a cold sweat, breathe faster, etc. my voice, no matter how much I try to project, goes all weak and mousey and my mind goes blank and I stumble over my words. In other words, I sound scared, weak and incompetent.
I also hate making calls when other people are around me. Yes, I know they are busy and have better things to do than listen to my conversations. But I can’t help it, it’s just a psychological thing. I prefer if everyone around me is gone, or else on the phone themselves.
I had to make a ton of phone calls this week for the stories I wrote, and It got easier as I went. I didn’t have to rehearse my speech, I knew what I wanted to say. I felt more confident, even though my voice didn’t fully return…i was super polite, and after one particular embarrassment soon learnt from my mistake. Although I much prefer email communications, I hate seeing a reply come in, and waiting through those two seconds that it takes for them to open up. Plus, a watched inbox never receives mail.
I’ve got to work on my talking. I speak super fast, even when I deliberately try to slow it down, I think that barely brings to me to normal talking speed and when you’re on the phone I think it’s even more important to enunciate clearly. My name is especially hard to get out clearly, when I’m rattling off where I’m calling from straight after. I am pretty sure it just comes out as a sort of gentle murmur. It just feels so unnatural to me though – I’d be right at home in Gilmore Girls! I talk just like that, rat-a-tat-tat, sharp and quick and deadpan. I remember in broadcast classes last year reading out stories, and I thankfully wasn’t the fastest speaker there. One girl had to repeat herself approximately six times before our tutor was happy with her speed, but man I felt her pain the whole way. I understand how hard it is to understand others who talk fast, but somehow when I do it it doesn’t sound fast at all.
I was at the ATM this morning, and was pleasantly surprised to retrieve my receipt and see 3.5k as my available balance.
I didn’t really know how that could be – I run my budget down to zero (I like the zero based budget, there is a place for everything) and it’s the end of the weekend (by Monday everything is basically accounted for). And I certainly wasn’t expecting any sort of windfall – $400 at the most, maybe, and if that ever comes to me it would be in a cheque (I sent out my invoice again, but doubt I’ll ever see the money – chalk it down to experience and never work for that person again).
Anyway, eventually another receipt emerged from the slot – available balance 106. Yeah, that was me, sadly.
And we came in on budget – even without taking into account the $30 phone topup which I hadn’t anticipated, because our groceries only came to 97 instead of our usual 120 – loving Countdown at the moment and all their reductions.
I’ve been really paranoid lately about going to ATMs, what with hearing about all these ‘plastic sleeve’ scams recently. I pause before sticking my card in and stare at the green sleeve to make sure everything looks kosher. Is it any wonder I don’t trust the deposit machine? I just am not going to insert cash into a hole in the wall, I’m going to hand it over to a real, live person.
Thankfully I only have to use ATMs once a week at the most. We have technology for a reason, and for me at least cash is a thing of the past. It’s way too easy for me to lose track of (or lose completely), easy to steal, and bulky. I get rewards off my Visa. And when you pay by card there’s a record, a paper trail should you need to verify something.
Life after graduation
I love checking out my stats on the wordpress dashboard. It’s really eye opening! My random little post on nineties music got my most views ever. And I like seeing the different searches that people are using and getting to my blog from. Up till now, my faves were “can’t wear my contacts” and “flatmates won’t take out bin.” I think that’s hilarious. Really, seriously, do people google phrases like that?
But I think the current top search is more telling than funny. “is it easy to find jobs after graduation in Auckland?”
Well, I don’t know. Not too much different than any other city, I’d imagine. But of course it’s impossible to say, too much depends on your field and your contacts and experience.
I’m incredibly lucky I think, to have the job I do, a fairly professional, respectable job for my age. I’d never have had some of the opportunities I’ve had otherwise. I think it’s also given me the confidence I need in other areas of my life, and probably helped me decide to accept that freelance writing last year (some of which I haven’t been paid for yet!).
I’ll be graduating next year, one of the few in my group to do so. I’ll be out earning, out in the workforce before almost everyone else. Now I’m finding it a little scary after meeting a intern here who’s just finished her degree in journalism. What do we do after it all, where do we go? What if it’s not all it’s cracked up to be?
I have a few friends who’ve graduated now. I don’t think they are necessarily totally prepared for the real world, or at least the working world. Even at the best of times it’s not easy being a fresh grad with no experience, even more so if you don’t know exactly what you want to do. I mean, it could lead you into a number of areas, but at the same time you may think ‘no that’s not quite right’ and end up looking forever and do nothing at all.
Even at the best of times, you have to apply to tens or hundreds of roles, far and wide, as many as you can. Because you’re only going to hear back from a very small percentage of them. And go further, to interviews and second interviews, to even less. And today, well, things are really tough – there are way too many people out there and even fewer jobs. No wonder people are going back to school for another year or two.
My point is, even during the good times you have to work and work and wait to score yourself a job. It’s really about the numbers. Applying to three or four positions won’t get you anywhere. And you need to be so well prepared for interviews, you’ve got to prep, dress the part, act the part, practice answers and anticipate questions. Otherwise you have no chance at all. And that’s something I don’t think everyone understands. They think they’ll just waltz in somewhere, impress the pants of the bosses and be offered a job. Or they’ve had fairly low level studenty jobs and don’t understand the processes of applying for professional roles. Or even worse, their tutors and lecturers assure them they’ll get jobs after graduation, and companies will be coming TO THEM!
I think that’s just plain irresponsible. How can you say that to your students? The economy’s tanked, you have way too many engineering and business students, you have no way of knowing what the market will be like when they graduate. And certainly companies will not be chasing them. Maybe the very best, that’s true. But telling EVERYONE to not worry, well, that’s just encouraging laziness and a false sense of security. I’m not jealous of my friends who are constantly reassured. I just don’t believe it, and I hope they don’t either. You’ve got to do the hard work yourself.
My new thing: brunch!
I’m not a big breakfast kind of person. I eat cereal for breakfast. Sometimes toast. Occasionally pancakes on the weekend, if someone feels kindly inclined.
But I think me and BF may make breakfast out more of a regular thing. I would call it brunch, but with my weird newfound ability to function on less sleep, I’m actually up at what I used to call an indecent hour on a weekend morning – so breakfast really does fall before 10, and can be classed as such.
I don’t usually find breakfasts out anything spectacular – we haven’t been to many places yet, only a couple – and reckon we could do just as well at home. But I want to actually enjoy my life, and breakfast out is just a fun thing to do. Having someone else cook, and bring it to you – there’s nothing I hate more than standing over a hot stove cooking greasy food and having oil spit in your face – and just relaxing with a newspaper and conversation is really, really nice. Plus starting the day off with a real meal keeps me going for aaaages…past lunchtime for sure!
Sticker shock
I have to admit, I really hate receiving mail.
It rarely, if ever, brings good news.
Some are perfectly innocuous and harmless, if a little annoying. Letters from my MP, trying to reach out to his ethnic electorate. Offers from DTR, hoping to suck me into an HP.
Bank statements, insurance invoices, and other money-demanding correspondence. BF was foolish enough to take some people somewhere last year – IN THEIR POS CAR, driving four people because ALL OF THEM HAD LOST THEIR LICENCES.
They got pulled over, he got the fine for carrying passengers, and for one of their car lights being broken.
It would have been nice if they paid for both tickets, seeing as he was doing them a favour. Not that they are. In fact, it’s doubtful they’ll even pay for the fine for the broken light.
Yesterday he was done for driving around another friend who has no licence.
He has three months till getting his full, so I have begged him to please NOT drive anyone else around. Just because almost all his friends are dumbasses who’ve lost their licences, is no reason for him to lose his too (not to mention the heinous fines).
ANYWAY. Yesterday I got my fees invoice. Uni fees this year are over $5100!!! First year, around 3900. Last year, $4200. So this is almost a grand more….
All of my papers have outrageously high fees – I’m not really sure why. Instead of being under $600 each, some are $700 and $800. Hopefully my scholarship will cover it all – they should. Speaking of which, I must ring them and see what to do next.
I’ll probably have to pay almost a grand out of pocket, for other costs and materials and the student association fees.
Plus I plan to get contents insurance, and get a laptop and camera. I’ll be getting some money from mystery shopping, overtime and my first story assignment at work – which I haven’t even touched on yet! And if I ever get paid my $400 from December’s articles, that will cover the techy stuff.
I’m glad this is my last year of studying. I can’t imagine how fast fees are going to increase from here on now.
Television reflections
I’ve missed my blog. I really have. But until I get a new laptop, hopefully within a couple of weeks, posts shall be sporadic, unfortunately. Things are pretty busy; I’ve got my first writing assignment and don’t want to botch it up. It’s pretty scary, ringing up people you see on TV or read in mags and actually speaking to them. It’s gone pretty well so far…only one person refused to speak to me, pity really, if I was the type to have celeb crushes i would totally be into him. I’ve learned even if you don’t have a specific question, no matter how vague the brief is, FORMULATE one! It was pretty embarrassing to be caught out. I mean, it doesn’t matter too much, you just need something to kick it off with, a starting point, a catalyst. But I’m learning early and I feel really lucky to be building up my contact list this way.
Anywayyyyyy, back to television! I really don’t get the kids off My Super Sweet Sixteen. Don’t get me wrong, I hate, loathe, despise that show with every fibre of my being. As per all of C4’s reality shows. Unfortunately sometimes I’m too bloody lazy to walk to the set to change channels when the bed swallows our remote. I especially don’t understand the girls who feel this need to make a huge showy entrance, and decide they’re going to perform some really elaborate dance and impress all of their friends. They spend all their time worrying sick about it, whether they’ll mess up, etc – that’s no way to ejoy your birthday! It’s frickin ridiculous. As is changing into five different outfits throughout the night. You are not a presenter at the Oscars. And even then, that’s barely an excuse is it?
And Trading Spouses is back. Watching it really reinforced just how there really is no such thing as a normal family. We all have our own quirks and ways of doing things. And in the privacy of our home well who’s there to judge? Like me – I’m such a homebody, over my long weekend I spent time doing thigns around the house, going on runs, sorting out old photos and organising old papers. I threw out a ton of old tax refund records, read through all the letters BF wrote from the army, and chucked out some hideous photos dating back to 2000. And i loved it! My home really is my haven.
We were offered to housesit. but I’m not super keen. I just thin it would feel weird. Not my bed, not my house…I wouldn’t feel comfortable. Obviously if it was a mansion with spa hot tub and fully stocked kitchen, I’d be jumping at the chance…but it’s nowhere special, so the only thing would be getting away to a slight change of scenery.
Waiting…
to hear back from the cops.
After Monday evening’s revelations, we called the burglary department and updated them. The officer was like “so what number is that house?” I never go left of our house (it’s where the street turns ghetto and unsafe. I prefer not to even look in that direction. Especially when those hoodlums are around). Kicked myself and popped outside to check, then called back. Don’t know what happened during that three minutes, but they didn’t pick up, and I left a message.
BF kept calling them during the day; apparently our officer was out, but she had “got our message”.
Nothing yesterday.
Left another message this morning. Trail is probably cold by now.
I plan to call the CAB and Community Law today and see exactly what we can expect, what the cops are obliged to do and what their powers are now. I mean, we KNOW those kids did it. They know WE know. And I don’t expect to see my stuff again but we have to live near them, and I refuse to send the message that they can rob the house across the street, flaunt it, and get away absolutely scot free. Surely the police have to follow up. Whether it’s just questioning, or searching the place, and finding nothing, whatever, they should be doing SOMETHING.
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