So I called immigration as I couldn't make head nor tail of their thoroughly confusing website. You know those sites where you click the link and read then you have to follow another link and it just leads you round in circles back to where you started but without actually ever divulging the information you desperately seek? Yeah, one of those.
So I called for clarification. A nice gentleman answered the phone and I asked him how would one go about applying for a second working holiday Visa? He kindly explained to me that I have to work for a minimum of 88 days in a job that satisfies the selection criteria but is also in an area that satisfies the regional criteria. I can't fruit-pick in an area not on the list and I cannot bar-tend in an area that is acceptable, it has to meet both. He also explained that my honours degree is of no use to me whatsoever. Ah... grand.
OK. So I then go to the page of the website that further explains this using his directions (I would never have found this myself). Have a read at this.
http://www.immi.gov.au/visitors/working-holiday/417/specified-work.htm
I'm a bit horrified. I have no experience whatsoever in any of these fields. Although I am confident I could do any of them - what I lack in physical structure I make up for in abundance with sheer determination. I can do anything I put my mind to if only I get the opportunity. I now have to re-think my entire job-hunting perspective. Whilst the focus up until now has been to supplement my earnings with a romantic idea of a coffee shop it now seems I will have to put myself thoroughly out of my comfort zone . I am no stranger to hard work my only concern is the timescale. I have 6 months left in Oz and I have to do 3 months hard work. OH DEAR LORD I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF DERBY SEASON!!!
Hmm.. how can I work around this. My lovely friend and fellow derby enthusiast Busty suggested fruit picking in the Adelaide hills as it is close to home and would hopefully minimalise impact on derby related activities. I got right on it and found a website - all names have been changed.
*WARNING* the following conversation is of a disturbing nature with creep factor x 10. If you are easily offended/and/or scared skip this bit. My thoughts are in brackets - I did not speak these out loud).
Edgar: Hello, Edgar.
Me: Hi there, I am currently residing in Adelaide and I am looking for some work to count towards extending my Visa application. i see you are advertising fruit-picking jobs and I would like to apply please.
Edgar: What do you look like, height/build/fat/thin?
Me: (eeeerrr... what? I fail to see why this matters but OK I'll roll with it) I'm 5ft 3" and slim.
Edgar: Do you have any experience?
Me: Honestly, no, not fruit-picking but I'm sure I will learn quickly - I am a very dedicated and hard-worker.
Edgar: OK the pay isnt very good...
Me: I'm not bothered I just want to stay in Australia, I'm happy to volunteer if it means I get a job
Edgar: Do you have a boyfriend? Not that it matters, I was just asking... I mean, why do you want to stay in Australia?
Me: (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK) No I dont and I dont have one back home either I dont have much to go home to and I like it here Ive made lots of friends.
Edgar: OK well send me your resume and if you could send me a pic of yourself that would be helpful.
Me: (For what?! Your selection process? What the fuck does it matter what i look like?) Sure, no problem.
Edgar: I fired a girl recently as she just wasnt up to the job and I've got a couple of german girls working for me just now but they both finish tomorrow. How soon would you want to start?
Me: Oh, as immediately as possible (HOW ABOUT NEVER YOU FUCKING CREEP)
Edgar: Ok email me.
Me: Sure thanks bye.
So. Judging by the questions he asked and I may be way off track here but I reckon his deal is he picks girls he finds attractive and then if you want him to provide evidence to the visa people that you've done your 3 months you have to sleep with him. I could be incredibly wrong but I'm not really willing to pursue this in order to find out. I was considering sending him a pic of a leggy, blonde, tanned beauty to see if he picks me and then if he does turning up all short and pale and tattooed to see what his reaction would be. But I dont actually care that much.
Back to the drawing board. :)
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Pirate and the neverending quest for a job part 2
Todays blog will be about discrimination. I will lead into it gently but it is about DISCRIMINATION.
So today was my trial at the coffee shop. I skipped skate practice last night as I wanted to be fresh and preferably unbroken today! Normally I wouldn't miss it for the world but I was still aching from Sundays bout and I really really want this job.
I get up early and put on my $70 black long-sleeved shirt. I wouldn't normally ever spend that much on a shirt but it looks amazing, fits me well and the main thing is the sleeves are really long. Sometimes shirts ride up when you extend your arm and I can't have that or my wrist tats will keek out (shock horror). So yeah now to tackle my hair. I don't think I could get away with wearing a hat during a shift so I need to do something else. I can never ever ever be arsed doing anything with my hair hence why I shave half of it and style the other side like a birds nest - minimum effort. So, how to disguise my hair without using clever hat trickery? I decide to try and copy that rockabilly thing I've seen girls do with a bandanna. I get the shaved bit disguised and cleverly pin my remaining hair over as much of it as possible. It's a bit sloppy but for a first attempt its awrite.
Sweet, off to work! I arrive ten minutes early and inroduce myself and give a big smile. (All names have been changed to alternatives to protect identities and for my own personal amusement but this is the only false part of the story everything else is FACT). I met my boss Reginald and another co-worker Penelope and politely got on with learning how to do the job and yakking about myself. I like Reginald he reminds me of an ex-boss. He strikes me as very down to earth, friendly yet professional, hard-working and fun. All is going well I'm picking things up quick, I'm talking myself up with quiet confidence and I'm getting on well with everyone. Reginald asked to see me alone away from the customers and my immediate thought was "Crap I've only been here an hour I've mucked this up what did I do wrong?". We head upstairs and he begins by complimenting me on the way I'm dressed (I can recognise a compliment sandwich when I see it), it's smart yadda yadda, however (here it is), he would like me to take my ear-rings out as he would prefer me to look more like the way he's dressed and it's more professional. I think he may also have meant I was to do something with my hair but I was still in shock over the very idea of removing my ear-rings. He then closed with he would like me to come back the next day when it is busier and he will teach me more. There we have it folks the compliment sandwich.
The main problem I have with society in regards to job-hunting etc is this ridiculous prejudice that people with piercings and tattoos are "unprofessional". I have an honours degree in biomedical science, I studied a masters degree in signal transduction pathways in primary operable breast cancer, I have presented my work in San Antonio at the annual breast cancer conference, I have worked since the age of 15, I have mostly always had two jobs, I have only ever been unemployed once for a period of 8 months until I stopped putting my degree on my resume and I pride myself on my attitude of "If somethings worth doing it's worth doing well". No matter what I get up to in my private life I am always at work on time, I never phone in sick unless I am so genuinely sick I cant physically make it to work and I always get the job done. Tell me, does any of this sound unprofessional to you? It is also infuriating as Penelope was wearing a pair of very thick gold hoop ear-rings. I'm an all or nothing kinda gal. You either ban jewellery altogether or you allow people to wear it. I'm not mad at Reginald I understand his dilemma. People can be pains in the arses about appearance. However, once I give you my dazzling smile and speak to you in my genuinely friendly manner you can't help but like me. And I'm not being full of myself here I just like being nice to people it doesnt cost anything and smiling is contagious. You cant stay freaked out by someone when they bend over backwards to help you and take time out of their day just to be nice to you.
So therein lies the dilemma. I like Reginald, I like his staff and I like his coffe shop but on principle I have NEVER ever taken my ear-rings out for anyone. What to do?
So today was my trial at the coffee shop. I skipped skate practice last night as I wanted to be fresh and preferably unbroken today! Normally I wouldn't miss it for the world but I was still aching from Sundays bout and I really really want this job.
I get up early and put on my $70 black long-sleeved shirt. I wouldn't normally ever spend that much on a shirt but it looks amazing, fits me well and the main thing is the sleeves are really long. Sometimes shirts ride up when you extend your arm and I can't have that or my wrist tats will keek out (shock horror). So yeah now to tackle my hair. I don't think I could get away with wearing a hat during a shift so I need to do something else. I can never ever ever be arsed doing anything with my hair hence why I shave half of it and style the other side like a birds nest - minimum effort. So, how to disguise my hair without using clever hat trickery? I decide to try and copy that rockabilly thing I've seen girls do with a bandanna. I get the shaved bit disguised and cleverly pin my remaining hair over as much of it as possible. It's a bit sloppy but for a first attempt its awrite.
Sweet, off to work! I arrive ten minutes early and inroduce myself and give a big smile. (All names have been changed to alternatives to protect identities and for my own personal amusement but this is the only false part of the story everything else is FACT). I met my boss Reginald and another co-worker Penelope and politely got on with learning how to do the job and yakking about myself. I like Reginald he reminds me of an ex-boss. He strikes me as very down to earth, friendly yet professional, hard-working and fun. All is going well I'm picking things up quick, I'm talking myself up with quiet confidence and I'm getting on well with everyone. Reginald asked to see me alone away from the customers and my immediate thought was "Crap I've only been here an hour I've mucked this up what did I do wrong?". We head upstairs and he begins by complimenting me on the way I'm dressed (I can recognise a compliment sandwich when I see it), it's smart yadda yadda, however (here it is), he would like me to take my ear-rings out as he would prefer me to look more like the way he's dressed and it's more professional. I think he may also have meant I was to do something with my hair but I was still in shock over the very idea of removing my ear-rings. He then closed with he would like me to come back the next day when it is busier and he will teach me more. There we have it folks the compliment sandwich.
The main problem I have with society in regards to job-hunting etc is this ridiculous prejudice that people with piercings and tattoos are "unprofessional". I have an honours degree in biomedical science, I studied a masters degree in signal transduction pathways in primary operable breast cancer, I have presented my work in San Antonio at the annual breast cancer conference, I have worked since the age of 15, I have mostly always had two jobs, I have only ever been unemployed once for a period of 8 months until I stopped putting my degree on my resume and I pride myself on my attitude of "If somethings worth doing it's worth doing well". No matter what I get up to in my private life I am always at work on time, I never phone in sick unless I am so genuinely sick I cant physically make it to work and I always get the job done. Tell me, does any of this sound unprofessional to you? It is also infuriating as Penelope was wearing a pair of very thick gold hoop ear-rings. I'm an all or nothing kinda gal. You either ban jewellery altogether or you allow people to wear it. I'm not mad at Reginald I understand his dilemma. People can be pains in the arses about appearance. However, once I give you my dazzling smile and speak to you in my genuinely friendly manner you can't help but like me. And I'm not being full of myself here I just like being nice to people it doesnt cost anything and smiling is contagious. You cant stay freaked out by someone when they bend over backwards to help you and take time out of their day just to be nice to you.
So therein lies the dilemma. I like Reginald, I like his staff and I like his coffe shop but on principle I have NEVER ever taken my ear-rings out for anyone. What to do?
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Pirate and the neverending quest for a job
The preparations for today's interview began last night with me ironing, yes, ironing (shudder) my borrowed interview clothes and getting a reasonably early night. Normally I'm awake until anything between 2 and 4am, my brain refusing to stop the whirlwind of ideas and things to remember. However, unusually it complied with an early shutdown and I think I was asleep before 1am. Getting up at 8am this morning was a bit scary as I usually only see that time if I haven't been to bed yet and although I hate mornings in general I was determined this one would be awesome.
Time to tackle the checklist of problems my appearance presents to potential employers. First on the list, visible tattoos. The black trousers and long-sleeved shirt takes care of 99% of them. Unfortunately there's not much I can do about the one on my neck (except grow my hair long but that's gonna take a while) but it can be rendered "not that noticeable" with a carefully practiced routine of tilting my head away and making sure I am always presenting my left side to the person I am talking to. Check. Next on the list, the piercings. As a matter of principle I absolutely refuse to take my ear-rings out as any reference to the outdated "health and safety" laws are clearly laughable. You can't tell me my ear-rings are at risk of falling into food when you need pliers to remove them from my ear. Whilst I refuse to remove my ear-rings I will begrudgingly remove my lip piercing. I can slowly phase it in once I have established myself as an invaluable member of staff. Check. Last and not least, the hair. Who would have thought that shaving half your hair off would be an issue? Apparently so. I cleverly disguise my hairstyle with none other than... a hat. Yes folks a hat. I have been told on numerous occassions I suit it well and with the shirt and trousers I kind of fancied myself as rockin the "dapper" look. Or something. Anyway, check.
With my troublesome appearance thoroughly dealt with the next hurdle to contend with is Jeffrey. My last interview did not go so well and I don't want to go into details but lets just say Jeffrey caused a scene. I told him he couldnt come with me this time on account of his atrocious behaviour last time and he stomped his little feet and he huffed and he puffed and he threatened me with allsorts. In the end I had to let him come with me as he said if I didnt he'd burn my collage art book. Mental note to self get Jeffrey a new cage.
I toddle off to the bus stop and I'm almost there when I remember that I've left the scrap of paper with the name of the shop and the phone number in the house. Idiot. So as I have plenty of time I nip back and get it. Back to the bus stop just in time to catch the bus into the City - excellent! Feeling good. I meet a fellow Roadie on the bus and have a great time chatting until I am about 3 stops away from the city when it suddenly dawns on me that I have left the house without a copy of my resume. Yes. I have gone to an interview without a resume. Disaster. What kind of a moron goes to an interview without a resume? Me, apparently.
Quick time check. 9am. Interview is at 10. Options-
1) Phone housemate and ask him to bring you a copy.
2) Phone brother and ask him to bring you a copy.
3) Call friend in the city, ask her to print it and pick it up
4) Find an internet cafe and print it yourself
I decide to go with option 3. I phoned my friend but as it was 5 minutes past nine she has started work and is unavailable. OK, I have just under an hour that's loads of time let's go for option 4 with 1 or 2 as a back-up. Although I have lived in Adeliade for 6 months now I still have no idea where to find most things so I ask around various shops and get directions. I find the cafe but unfortunately it is closed and does not open until 10am. Dang. I run up Rundle Mall and pop into Lush because it smells awesome and makes me happy and I can ask directions as well. The lovely shop lady directs me to the corner of Hindley and Leigh Street. I traipse up Hindley Street but miss the cafe go too far and end up asking directions again. Upon trudging back down Hindley Street a man walking beside me felt the burning need to inform me that "See that tattoo on your neck? It needs white in it." I reply with a cheeky sniggery "Right". Normally I would have asked politely why he thought so and then bested him with my awesome knowledge and sparkling wit but on this occassion I was too pushed for time. It is now 9.37am and I have t-minus 23 minutes to locate the cafe, print my resume and turn up to my interview on time. I walk past the cafe AGAIN but stop 2 shops down to look around and finally spot it and head in.
The internet cafe confused me. The internet was so slow it took me about 3 minutes to get the internet up and working. Soon as it is, bam, email, resume, print, ta da. It cost me $5.50 for 5 minutes internet time and 2 pieces of paper. She did, however, offer me a state of the art stapler.
OK, 9.45. I quick march up Hindley Street and Rundle Mall not entirely sure where I'm going but I locate the cafe with 5 minutes to spare. I quickly compose myself, tuck my shirt in, adjust my hat and take a deep breath. Here goes.
Inside the cafe it's jumping and there are two people behind the counter. Almost every table in the cafe has people seated and they both look waaaaaay busy. I inform the guy behind the counter who I am and that I have an interview at 10 and he looks at me and then at the clock and asks me for 10 minutes. I say sure no problem and wait outside at one of the tables. I take out my book, Haruki Murakami's "The Wind-up Bird Chronicle" and wait patiently. Jeffrey at this point starts shouting and demanding attention but I tell him, "No, Jeffrey this is perfect. Now we play the waiting game. The longer I sit here the more likely he will feel obliged to give me at least a trial". Reluctantly Jeffrey piped down.
After half an hour of patiently waiting I look up and he beckons me over. He asked me for a resume which I produce all shiny and new from my adorable handbag which I realise with horror is still covered in tomato juice spatters that look like vomit. He thanks me and scans it quickly and asks me to come in next week on Tuesday for a trial. YES!!! WIN!!! I have finally successfully managed to get my foot in the door!
Now all I have to do is some research on how to actually make coffee and we are sorted. My brother helpfully suggested wearing a variety of false moustaches and outfits etc and going into the cafe and observing what they do there whilst taking notes. This is a genius idea. I may enlist his help as well.
So, I have my foot in the door and the best bit is he asked me to come in Tuesday, not Monday. I still get to party on down at the Rollergirl after party on Sunday with Monday set to recovery mode. YYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEESSS FRIDAY IS FULL OF WIN!!!! :D I'll keep you posted how I get on.
Time to tackle the checklist of problems my appearance presents to potential employers. First on the list, visible tattoos. The black trousers and long-sleeved shirt takes care of 99% of them. Unfortunately there's not much I can do about the one on my neck (except grow my hair long but that's gonna take a while) but it can be rendered "not that noticeable" with a carefully practiced routine of tilting my head away and making sure I am always presenting my left side to the person I am talking to. Check. Next on the list, the piercings. As a matter of principle I absolutely refuse to take my ear-rings out as any reference to the outdated "health and safety" laws are clearly laughable. You can't tell me my ear-rings are at risk of falling into food when you need pliers to remove them from my ear. Whilst I refuse to remove my ear-rings I will begrudgingly remove my lip piercing. I can slowly phase it in once I have established myself as an invaluable member of staff. Check. Last and not least, the hair. Who would have thought that shaving half your hair off would be an issue? Apparently so. I cleverly disguise my hairstyle with none other than... a hat. Yes folks a hat. I have been told on numerous occassions I suit it well and with the shirt and trousers I kind of fancied myself as rockin the "dapper" look. Or something. Anyway, check.
With my troublesome appearance thoroughly dealt with the next hurdle to contend with is Jeffrey. My last interview did not go so well and I don't want to go into details but lets just say Jeffrey caused a scene. I told him he couldnt come with me this time on account of his atrocious behaviour last time and he stomped his little feet and he huffed and he puffed and he threatened me with allsorts. In the end I had to let him come with me as he said if I didnt he'd burn my collage art book. Mental note to self get Jeffrey a new cage.
I toddle off to the bus stop and I'm almost there when I remember that I've left the scrap of paper with the name of the shop and the phone number in the house. Idiot. So as I have plenty of time I nip back and get it. Back to the bus stop just in time to catch the bus into the City - excellent! Feeling good. I meet a fellow Roadie on the bus and have a great time chatting until I am about 3 stops away from the city when it suddenly dawns on me that I have left the house without a copy of my resume. Yes. I have gone to an interview without a resume. Disaster. What kind of a moron goes to an interview without a resume? Me, apparently.
Quick time check. 9am. Interview is at 10. Options-
1) Phone housemate and ask him to bring you a copy.
2) Phone brother and ask him to bring you a copy.
3) Call friend in the city, ask her to print it and pick it up
4) Find an internet cafe and print it yourself
I decide to go with option 3. I phoned my friend but as it was 5 minutes past nine she has started work and is unavailable. OK, I have just under an hour that's loads of time let's go for option 4 with 1 or 2 as a back-up. Although I have lived in Adeliade for 6 months now I still have no idea where to find most things so I ask around various shops and get directions. I find the cafe but unfortunately it is closed and does not open until 10am. Dang. I run up Rundle Mall and pop into Lush because it smells awesome and makes me happy and I can ask directions as well. The lovely shop lady directs me to the corner of Hindley and Leigh Street. I traipse up Hindley Street but miss the cafe go too far and end up asking directions again. Upon trudging back down Hindley Street a man walking beside me felt the burning need to inform me that "See that tattoo on your neck? It needs white in it." I reply with a cheeky sniggery "Right". Normally I would have asked politely why he thought so and then bested him with my awesome knowledge and sparkling wit but on this occassion I was too pushed for time. It is now 9.37am and I have t-minus 23 minutes to locate the cafe, print my resume and turn up to my interview on time. I walk past the cafe AGAIN but stop 2 shops down to look around and finally spot it and head in.
The internet cafe confused me. The internet was so slow it took me about 3 minutes to get the internet up and working. Soon as it is, bam, email, resume, print, ta da. It cost me $5.50 for 5 minutes internet time and 2 pieces of paper. She did, however, offer me a state of the art stapler.
OK, 9.45. I quick march up Hindley Street and Rundle Mall not entirely sure where I'm going but I locate the cafe with 5 minutes to spare. I quickly compose myself, tuck my shirt in, adjust my hat and take a deep breath. Here goes.
Inside the cafe it's jumping and there are two people behind the counter. Almost every table in the cafe has people seated and they both look waaaaaay busy. I inform the guy behind the counter who I am and that I have an interview at 10 and he looks at me and then at the clock and asks me for 10 minutes. I say sure no problem and wait outside at one of the tables. I take out my book, Haruki Murakami's "The Wind-up Bird Chronicle" and wait patiently. Jeffrey at this point starts shouting and demanding attention but I tell him, "No, Jeffrey this is perfect. Now we play the waiting game. The longer I sit here the more likely he will feel obliged to give me at least a trial". Reluctantly Jeffrey piped down.
After half an hour of patiently waiting I look up and he beckons me over. He asked me for a resume which I produce all shiny and new from my adorable handbag which I realise with horror is still covered in tomato juice spatters that look like vomit. He thanks me and scans it quickly and asks me to come in next week on Tuesday for a trial. YES!!! WIN!!! I have finally successfully managed to get my foot in the door!
Now all I have to do is some research on how to actually make coffee and we are sorted. My brother helpfully suggested wearing a variety of false moustaches and outfits etc and going into the cafe and observing what they do there whilst taking notes. This is a genius idea. I may enlist his help as well.
So, I have my foot in the door and the best bit is he asked me to come in Tuesday, not Monday. I still get to party on down at the Rollergirl after party on Sunday with Monday set to recovery mode. YYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEESSS FRIDAY IS FULL OF WIN!!!! :D I'll keep you posted how I get on.
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