Pirate vs the pick-up truck of the ocean

Yeeeeeeyy so it's finally happening!! March this year my totally awesome little brother Kris hopped on a plane and flew to the other side of the world just to say "Happy birthday Pirate". I don't think anyone would argue with the fact that this is one of the greatest birthday presents in the history of the universe. May arrives and brings with it Kris's brithday. Now, how do I make his just as amazing as he made mine? I can't fly halfway round the world he's already here. OK, think Pirate, we're in Australia, what is there to do in Australia that you can't do at home that would be pure amazing and everyone back home would say "What the fuck, you guys are nuts!"?.  Cage-diving with sharks, ooooh yeah!

I get on it straight away furiously researching the internet for where and how I can make this happen. I stumbled upon Calypso Star Charters website and see that they are offering 1-day tours for $500. PERFECT!! They are, however, fully booked for the next few months and the earliest date I could get was Saturday 18th June. Fuck it let's go! I booked for myself and Kris to go diving and for my flatmate Noony to spectate. Now we play the waiting game.

Details can be found here
http://www.sharkcagediving.com.au/


Friday 17th June

At last the day arrives when we leave for Port Lincoln. We set off about midday for the long drive ahead, stopping off at a friends house to drop off Bronson the muttley dog. As usual he gave us all a heart attack by attempting to jump out the window to savage a guy on a bike (he hates bikes). Panic over we deposit him for his playdate with Sam and woooo we're on our way!

 

 Kris, most pleased about imminent shark adventures

 Bronson

The journey was not exactly the most scenic of routes - brown ground, some trees, green grass, more trees, couple of buildings, more brown. However, there were plenty of bizarr-o sculptures to look at in various fields along the way including a giant bug wielding a pitchfork and a tin man. Vaguely reminiscent of the Wicker Man. Oooh, and there was a double rainbow.

 Honk honk!!

 I've been playing about with Instagram for Iphone

 I like it :)

Along the way we stopped and made a very quick detour. It had to be done.

(I actually took this pic on the way back)

Having seen the movie we wanted to sneak a quick peek and see if we could see the bank. We drove past and did indeed spy the bank (4 doors down from the police station!!) but I didnt take any pictures. (Not that I didnt want to it just wasn't easy from where I was sitting and Im fairly certain the people of Snowtown are sick of people swinging by and taking pics). My curiosity thus satisfied we continued our journey. For the people back home that haven't heard about this you can read about it here;
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snowtown_murders

It was about this point in the journey that I realised how much of an idiot I am. It dawned on me that I had forgotten to pack something very important. Can you guess? I had forgotten to pack my bikini. Yes, readers. Cage-diving with great whites. No bikini. No towel either. *Facepalm. Oh well, I'll improvise and possibly steal the hotels towels.

Next stop Whyalla. This is where my flatmate grew up and he pointed out the schools he went to and the houses he lived in along the way. We made a quick stop at the shopping centre and Kris and I grabbed the worst Subway sandwiches I've ever eaten. Seriously, how hard is it to make a fucking sandwich? Anyway, we continued on with the journey. Driving during daylight was alright the view wasn't much to look at but at night all you could see was the road lit up in front of the car. They're not big on streetlights in Australia. It was a bit creepy.

We arrive at the Port Lincoln hotel about 8 in the evening. The hotel was a 4.5 star and our room had a balcony yeeeeaaah! I did not know you could get bunk beds in a hotel. After the obligatory jumping on the furniture and searching for stuff we can thieve we had tea and watched TV. Kris wanted to go to the bar but I told him no chance, not when we're going on a boat the next day. Catch some zeds.

 Jeffrey relaxing after the long drive 

  Bunk beds!

Saturday 18th June

Had to meet the peeps in the hotel lobby at 6.10am for our transfer to the boat. Jeffrey was going off his head at this point I had to put him in his special coat to calm him down. We were the last to arrive, everyone else was already there with cups of tea and the boat was packed. After some quick introductions we quickly settle down for some breakfast. For the first hour we are happily yakking and munching away and then all of a sudden the sea got a bit choppy. I'm sitting reeling from side to side thinking it was great as my tummy flipped over and over - I even threw my hands in the air like a big kid. However, as I turned to face Kris and Noony I realised they were both green looking and very quiet. Both of them had to grab sick bags and head outside to the "sick bay". The whole journey from the harbour to where we were doing the diving took 2 and a half hours. The guys were sick the whole way there. I thought it was hilarious for the first 10 minutes and then I felt really guilty thinking I'd killed them both as the whole trip was my idea. Kris, however is the funniest guy EVER. He was sitting outside next to Noony, both of them with sick bags in hand when he turns to Noony and says "HI I'M JOHNNY KNOXVILLE AND I'M GONNA BE SICK!!!" and promptly wharfs in his bag. Quality. :)

 Arrival on the boat

As we leave the harbour

Poor poor Kris. We almost ran out of sick bags

So we arrive at our destination and anchor the boat. I head outside and keek over the side . We've been there two minutes and already there are sharks circling the boat. Big fuckers as well!! The Calypso guys give us a chat about how we're gonna do the dive, safety instructions etc and start preparing the cage. They haven't even thrown any chum in the water yet and there's a massive shark hanging around. Glorious! We dive in groups of 4 so the first group gets their wetsuits on while we watch the crew try and bait the sharks. We see them swimming just under the surface and occassionally a fin would appear.

 Safety instructions

 Jeffrey. Blade just out of sight.

 The first group are now all kitted up and ready to rock and roll and they climb into the cage. 45 minutes later they emerge with happy excited looks on their faces. Only one shark to begin with but by the time they got out another had appeared. The second group hop in and we watch. Next up, me and Kris and another 2 guys.

Getting the wetsuit on was difficult as the boat was lurching all over the shop. I managed and then put on the wetsuit bootees. We grabbed goggles from the bucket and the crew fitted us with a weight belt so we didnt float. I got to wear two on account of me being the miniscule variety. Time to get in. This was for me the only worrying/scary part of the whole day. My only concern was that I couldnt walk easily with the weight belts on and the boat was lurching and the captain was holding the cage to the boat with a rope. What if I slipped trying to get into the cage and missed? I'd have to remove 2 weight belts underwater and swim up to be pulled up. All whilst sharks are circling the cage. Terrifying idea. Those sharks are fast! Anyway, clearly I am writing a blog after the event so obviously this did not happen but the thought did cross my mind. The other two guys are already in the tank, I'm up next and then it's Kris.

 Kris putting on his bootees

 Ready to go!!

I manage to clatter into the tank nae bother and the captain hands me my breathing gear. I have never been scuba diving or anything so I've never used this apparatus before. I have booked Kris and I a scuba diving lesson but it keeps getting cancelled due to the weather. I dunk my head under the water and breathe through the mouthpiece but it feels like it's catching in the back of my throat and I'm not getting enough air so I panic and have to come back up. It probably took me a good five minutes to get the hang of it but once I did it was easy. When I first climbed into the tank there were no sharks to be seen. The water was incredibly clear and we could see for miles just blue blue ocean. And if you looked down you could see a big shoal of silvery fish hanging around. I watch and sure enough Kris appears behind me. He had the same initial problem as I did with the breathing malarkey but he got the hang of it quicker than I did.

Sweet now it's time for the pick-up truck of the ocean. If you have ever heard Randall narrate nature vids here's his version of the great white. It's hysterical. And spot on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nUZbCu5RgBM
I didn't take my own personal camera with me as I didn't want to drop it or lose it and I had hired the special underwater camera that Calypso had. Also, the cage was actually bumpier than the boat, it rattled you about a fair bit!! We had been told to hook our feet under the floor bar and hold on to the hand rail. I figured I'd probably need a hand free to not die. For ages I fiddled with the camera as it wasn't switched on and I had no idea how to work it as it was covered in about 7 silver buttons that all looked the same. I forgot I was even holding a camera when the first sharks appeared.

I cannot describe what it is like to watch the biggest beast of a killing machine suddenly appear from very far away and advance toward you grinning. It was just like the documentaries, it was just like on TV except I was FACE TO FACE. And he was a big big fucker and covered in battle scars and looked like the embodiment of evil. I wanted him as a pet. I'd call him Stitch-face and feed him roos. Anyways, there were loads of them. We were being circled by at least two with more lurking around and below the boat. The best of it was they kept coming really really close to the cage. They also attacked the cage frequently, munching on the corners and generally showing me what they had for nibbles 5 mins previously. I guess sharks are like mosquitos, they love pirates. Lucky for me I had shark Aeroguard ie a steel fucking cage. We arsed around taking underwater pics of us and the Irish guy took a pic of me and Kris together wearing our scuba gear with a shark in the background. The 45 minutes went by so quickly, way too quickly I could have stayed down there all day gazing at the pickup trucks of the ocean. However, all too soon it was time to get back up to reality.

We surfaced and got changed into our clothes. I had to borrow a towel but luckily the Calypso crew do carry spares in case they have an idiot on board. Unfortunately there was no hot water left for a shower but we were going back to the hotel so I wasnt that bothered. I got dressed and back on deck with my camera ready to snap some more sharks in action.

 Pirate <3s sharks

There were 3 more groups of people that had a shot in the cage and by the time it got to the last peeps the sharks were going nuts and went into some sort of frenzy. I seriously seriously wanted to be in the cage. For anyone who books this make sure you are in the last group of peeps - you will see the most sharks and the biggest sharks and the most frenzied fucked up blood thirsty sharks!

After the cage-diving the crew packed all the gear away, served us lunch and we happily munched all the way back to shore. The return journey was much calmer and the guys were not as sick on the way back, still not 100% but definately less green looking! We were given the opportunity to buy merchandise - t-shirts that said "I dived and survived", mugs, key-rings and stubby holders etc etc while the staff prepared the CDs of pics and the DVD of that days footage. I was impressed by the set-up they had it was like a well-oiled machine. We watched the video of the day - my favourite bit is where they ask Kris if he enjoyed himself and he answers "yeah it was fucking awesome man" to uproarious laughter from everyone on board.

Back on land and the taxi took us back to the hotel where we cleaned up and had dinner in the super swanky restaurant. The end :D

Dinner!! Tuna steak

 View from the balcony of the pool and the harbour

Pirate and her mental life

So there's a few questions I've been asked a lot recently. From my wonderful friends and family back home "When are you coming home?" and "What are your plans?", from my wonderful Australian friends "How long are you staying for?" and "What are your plans?". I shall endeavour to answer all of these questions in this installment of my blog and in doing so perhaps come up with some sort of concrete plan.

I shall begin with more questions. "Why Australia?" is the one Im asked most often, usually swiftly followed by "Why Adelaide?". There are  a number of reasons I chose Australia but the main one revolves around roller derby. Once there was a lovely lass named BamBam who came to Scotland on a working holiday Visa and skated with the Glasgow roller girls. She made friends with a girl named Pirate and they went to New York together. Then Pirate got a working holiday Visa for Australia and went and stayed with BamBam and skated with her and the Adelaide roller girls. Thats a highly simplistic view of events. There was a lot of things going on in my life at the time of my decision. Bear with me while I squidge 6 months worth of complicated life bullshit into one super exciting explanatory paragraph.

I had split up with my boyfriend of  a year and a half so there was no romance to stay for and any inklings of a possible romance with a person who shall remain anonymous will forever be filed in the "its so complicated it needs a blog of its own" (I did write a blog about this but I took it down out of respect for an ex. One day I will share again). I had just recently lost my job as a lab technician/cancer research assistant due to lack of funding and the idea of job-hunting in my field again even with experience this time round was soul-crushing.  Even my totally awesome flat, my glorious sanctuary where I could hide with my books and Dvds and art supplies was beginning to stress me out; the secure entry wasn't secure, a homeless guy moved into the cupboard at the bottom of the stairs, the junkies on the first floor set the place on fire, nosy fucker Rita next door suffered from some sort of mental disorder and was constantly chapping my door asking me who the man was that chapped my door at 2am (there was no man and even if there was its none of your fuckin business madam) and to top it off there were about 40 members of the same family living in the flat underneath me that kept me awake at night with get-together sing a-longs and up early at weekends for religious ceremonies with additional football related shenanigans. If I could have transported the flat elsewhere or booted everyone else in the close out it would have been perfect. (Not to mention I couldn't afford a two-bed flat in Glasgows Southside by myself and the letting agency wouldnt allow me to choose my own flatmate because they're DICKS) OK, so I was pretty much panicking wondering what the hell I was going to do with my life when a friend of mine (el Bandito) suggested we get working Visas for Australia and fuck off there for a while. Now, Australia doesn't let you into the country on a working holiday Visa after you turn 30. I guess because once you reach that age you start going to Ibiza for your holidays or something I dont know but anyway I was 28 and a half at the time I applied for my Visa. It just seemed that everything in life was pushing me towards Australia and I quickly came to the conclusion that I would be a complete shitebag if I didnt go.

That covers why Australia - No job, no home, no romance, no plans, no kids, nothing keeping me, ticking deadline for Visa. Next question - why Adelaide? I chose to start in Adelaide as I already had a contact in Adelaide and a place to stay. Also, I had a built-in derby connection as I could transfer to ADRD. The plan was always get to Oz, wait for Bandit to arrive, buy van , fuck off and tour Australia Thelma and Louise style minus the ending. So what happened? Well, when I first arrived I was a little out of sorts. I had a lot on my plate and in being a champion robotic coping machine I lost a bit of the spark of who I am. I was tee-total for my first couple of months in Adelaide (I know, right?!) as I had these idiot ideas that I was gonna run off into the sunset with a handsome anonymous (also, teetotal) man and live happily ever after. Turns out he was an asshole but I digress, IT'S COMPLICATED. To cap it all off, I had arrived just in time for "off-season" IE no roller derby for 3 months! Ouch! So I floundered for a few months trying to settle into my own skin again. I remember phoning my bestest mate Laura and greetin telling her I wanted to come home. She told me to hang in there. I also fired Bandit an SOS email and she told me that her mate got homesick around the 3 month mark and to just stick it out a bit longer. I wasnt ready to give up my dream just yet and Im a stubborn fucker - there was no way I was leaving Oz until Id given it my best shot. Lo and behold everything almost magically fell into place when I totally wasnt looking!

 I landed a job at the best rockingest pub in Adelaide!! I started drinking again (what Pirates are best at) and the derby season started, offering me happy fun times and a support network. All of a sudden I felt like me again and I was having the time of my life! After another month of waiting for the Bandit to arrive she emails me the best news ever - she isn't coming to Australia after all she is in fact off to San Diego to work at Sin City Skates and skate with the San Diego Derby Dolls. Fuck me. Bandit you are my hero and I wish you all the best in everything that you do and I cant even be disappointed because I am so fucking excited for you!!!! Anyway, that's enough about Bandit she can write her own blog ;) So where does this leave you Pirate I hear you ask. Well, I thought about it and I thought fuck it Im having a riot I shall go with the flow and see what happens. Adelaide is cool it reminds me of my hometown, the roller derby is awesome and the Fringe festival is about to begin. I have loads of friends and everything is great.

The arrival of the cavalry. I had been emailing my little brother since I left suggesting he come out to Australia for a holiday. He was in a similar situation to me having recently lost his job. I asked that he come out in time for my birthday and he agreed it was a glorious idea. I convinced him to get a one-year working Visa by the sound logic that once he was here, 3 months would go by so quickly and he would be gutted that he had to go home as you cant apply for a Visa once you are already in the country, it has to be before you leave.  Day before my birthday Kris arrives and the rest, as they say, is history. Needless to say that was in March and he is still here having just as much fun as I am.

Now, it is June and my one-year working Visa expires end of September. I don't want to go. I haven't seen much outside of Adelaide and Australia is a BIG place. I do not regret spending all my time in Adelaide as I have found myself (urgh I know bear with me) again. It is exactly where I needed to be and exactly what I had to do to move forward. I have been thinking for some time that I want to I need to I have to stay longer. I really really like it here. So... what are my options? I am currently on a one-year Visa but you can have it extended by another year if you go and do crappy work that no-one else wants to. Perfect, I do the work, apply for Visa 2 and buy myself an extension to come up with a more permanent plan.... I'm not saying I definately want to live in Australia forever but one thing I am sure of is I do not want to return home. (Not yet anyway).

So I abandoned all job-hunting (see previous blogs) in favour of something which satisfies the ridiculously highly specific Visa criteria. Now, you know all those facebook posts about me farming up in the Adelaide hills? Beginning to make sense now? To the peeps back home, I apologise but if I get my way I will not be returning this year. To the peeps in Australia, if I get my way I will be here to go exploring further and hopefully spend another season skating with ADRD. Fingers crossed, I don't ask for much - 2nd year in Australia here I come! (hopefully).

Pirate and the Never-ending quest for a job part 3

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. :)

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?

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.

Pirate vs the beasties

OK so  Ive been promising an Aussie blog since I arrived here first week in October and I haven't quite got round to it! I had initially planned on doing this weekly but Im just gonna get stuck in and let it write itself.
I write a lot of my thoughts and feelings etc on my facebook and a topic which always gets a huge response is my writings/photos regarding the nastier creepy crawlies of Oz. So much so in fact that I decided to write a full blog just on this topic. Here we go!

First things first, for the benefit of any Aussie readers I shall fill you in on a little background about where I'm from. In Scotland, the worst thing we have to deal with on a daily basis is the weather. It could often be described as "A dreich day", meaning cold and miserable. In general, there is not much difference between summer and winter in Scotland as it rains pretty much all year round, we do get nice sunny days but they are few and far between. In my lifetime I can remember two possibly three summers that you could actually call "summer". The winters can be extreme. This year everyone back home is complaining that it is -15oC, transport has come to a halt with trains, buses and taxi services all suspended, schools and shops have closed and people are house-bound with no access to supermarkets etc. I have never minded the snow as there is something almost romantic about being wrapped up warm with scarf, gloves and several layers, traipsing through the snow/sleet to get home to a hot cup of chocolate, a warm shower/bath and then a cosy night in curled in front of the tv with a good book/dvd. A few days or even weeks of this however and the appeal is lost and it's back to grumbling about the miserable weather. I used to decribe the view from the window as looking out through a murky fishtank or even a mouldy snowglobe. In a word, grey.

However, I digress. Back to the beasties. Hmm,... Scottish beasties. Well, for starters  we don't have any deadly creatures. The last wild wolf was shot way back in the 1700s and I have never even seen the Loch Ness Monster. Large cats are the stuff of myth and we dont have bears. Spiders in Scotland do not bite and rarely grow larger than a ten pence piece. We have one snake, Vipera berus (the common adder) which is not aggressive and usually only bites when alarmed or disturbed. I have never seen one except in zoos. We have grass snakes but they are tiny and non-bitey and not really worth mentioning.  We do have millions of jellyfish but they're not that deadly and it is far too cold for most of the year to even contemplate going near the sea.  We have large birds of prey including eagles etc but you have to travel way out the cities for a glimpse of them and again they are few and far between and generally avoid humans. I think Scotlands plants are more troublesome, deadly nightshade, foxglove, nettles etc. although again they don't tend to be life-threatening just annoying.

What we do have in abundance is midges. Midges are like miniature mosquitos. Not life-threatening but very very annoying. You cant see them usually unless they are hanging about in a group (usually near trees or bodies of water). They bite you and usually the first you know about it you've got an itchy bit that's driving you crazy and you scratch til you bleed. The bites tend to come up in little lumps with a scabby bit in the middle. Treatment ideas range from dabbing with red wine, vinegar, calamine lotion, toothpaste, teatree oil, antihistamines etc etc the list goes on. I have found through vast experience that biting creatures love me. It is a documented fact that some people are chemically interesting to these bugs. There's something about me that they cannot resist. I have decided it must be because I am awesome. I have awesome sauce for blood. That's all it is. Throughout my life my memory is peppered with me scritchity scratching away at myself and dreaming of sandpaper. We used to joke that it would be cheaper and easier to just get me a flea collar.
So I came to Oz having done my research and knowing I'd be up against an insect horde of terrifying variety and abundance and forever seeking the shadows to stay out of the way of the fiery burning menace in the sky. However, when talking bugs with Australians I usually get a "Meh" response or "Yeah but you don't get them in the city" . I think either everyone here has the memory of a goldfish or they like to lie to themselves about numbers of beasties otherwise I dont think anyone would get any sleep. However, another possiblitly is that Calamity Pain here with her super-sweet super-chemically exciting awesome sauce blood is just a magnet for the horrors. Either way, I have encountered many horrors since arrival. Here are the more exciting tales for your amusement.

1) Pirates first encounter with a spider.
My first time seeing a spider in Australia was not long after Rogue arrived from Scotland, I think I'd been here about  a month. I awoke in the morning to a note in the kitchen that said " DEADLY White tailed spider inside, please kill, BamBam and Rogue are wusses and couldnt do it" placed next to an upturned glass containing a small but horribly creepy looking little spider. Ah-ha I thought here's my chance to play the hero. So armed with my copy of Hell's Angels I quickly smashed it and started the score-keeping in my head. Pirate 1 Spiders 0. White-tails are not actually deadly but I did a bit of reserach into them. They do not build webs, they hunt other spiders and they like to hide in clothes, shoes and bedding. What kind of a fucking spider doesnt build a web? Mental note to self, check all clothes and bed thoroughly before you get dressed or go to sleep.

2) Pirates first mozzie bite.
One night a few weeks ago there was a wild thunderstrom with crazy lightning, very fun to watch. As I was standing at the open back door watching the display I felt an itch on my thigh and started absent-mindedly scratching it. Didnt think anything of it, I scrutinised the area before I went to sleep but in the dull indoor light it was hard to tell if I'd been bitten or not so I just went to sleep. The next morning I woke up and got rather a fright. I had indeed been bitten and I now had a huge lump which was hard and tender to touch with a huge red ring of inflammatory crap all round it. A bit like a Millies cookie. Of pain. A pain cookie. On my thigh. In addition to this I had a bite on the calf of my other leg which reminded me of that scene in Requiem for a Dream. Bollox. Cue frantic google searches for a dr I can go to and I decide fuck it theres one literally just round the corner I shall go there and look ill. I toddled round to the surgery and explained my situation to the receptionist who was very nice and helped me fill out the paperwork so I could be seen. I only had to wait about ten minutes even though I didnt have an appointment and the dr was very nice. He wasn't too concerned about the requiem leg but he took one look at cookie leg and freaked.  I asked him what bit me and he said he wasnt sure but it looked like a Mozzie bite. Some people are just hyper sensitive to them (given my history that sounds about right). Straight on the antibiotics. Well, at least I'd be on the mend, all I had to do now was invest in some Deet. Yip. Mosquito kryptonite. Thats the plan.
Lesson learned today - when outside wear mosquito repellant.

3) Pirates second encounter with a spider
The second run-in with an eight-legged potentially hazardous creepy was at Sara's house. I had popped round in the afternoon to do the cleaning as arranged and was quite happily sweeping the floor when I stopped to pick up a tennis ball. There was a weird looking piece of fluff perched on the top of it and when I brought it right up to my face for a closer look I realised that Fluffys teeth were bigger than his legs! I promptly dropped the ball and with one fancy twirl/stomp quickfire Irish-dancing inspired movement that Michael Flatley would have been proud of I brought the creature its doom. Panic over I then took his carcass outside for closer inspection and a photoshoot. Upon returning home I did some research and found out the spider I had just laid waste to was a funnelweb. Here's some bedtime reading for you folks;
"Funnel-webs are one of the three most dangerous spiders in the world and are regarded by some to be the most dangerous. Their fangs are large and powerful, capable of penetrating fingernails and soft shoes. Funnel-webs are normally unaggressive but will defend themselves vigorously if frightened or threatened. During an attack the funnel-web spider generally maintains a tight grip on its victim and bites repeatedly, making it an especially traumatic experience for humans who are bitten and increasing the risk of severe envenomation."
However, I hasten to add what every Aussie tells me. Spider bites are rarely deadly as the hospitals over here are stuffed with anti-venom, people who die from spider bites are usually children, old people or those with weakened immune systems. Phew! That's alright then.

4)Pirates second mozzie bite.
The second time I was accosted by a winged menace I was in Noonys room watching a Dvd. Yes, indoors with others watching a doovd. My wrist, elbow and finger suddenly were on fire with itching it was driving me crazy. I could hardly watch the film it was drving me nuts but I didnt instantly realise I'd been bitten as no-one gets bitten on the finger or the elbow the skin is too tough and its too bony, normally mozzies go for fleshy parts. However, I looked down and sure enough theres a big stinking bite. The next day I got up and my whole wrist had swollen up to amost twice the size and the redness was spreading. Off I toddled to the drs again who promptly prescribed more antibiotics. This time I had to ice my wrist to try and get the swelling down.
Lesson learned today - wear repellant INSIDE the house. Keep the doors closed, get mozzie bombs and wash with citronella scented stuff.

5) Pirates eigth encounter with a spider
Since the funnelweb there had been many a spider splatting. The way it works with me is 1) The penalty for trespasssing is death and 2) Squash first, examine later. Given what happens to me when I get bitten by a common mosquito I will not be taking chances with the deadlier of creatures. Animal rights people can fuck off there are a million spiders but there's only one Pirate. I don't squash em if I'm on their territory, only when they wander into mine. Fair's fair. So, the Huntsman. Im in the kitchen with Noony and Albert and we've just finished dinner when Noony points out the HUGE huntsman sitting on the curtain. I scream at it and it jumps, I run and get a book all the while yelling dont let it get away! I also picked up my iphone (still havent bought a camera yet Im waitin on the January sales) to film this encounter. You can watch the video here if you are my friend on facebook-  http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=464581381459&set=a.460752491459.255050.771761459#!/video/video.php?v=484471056459&comments

Pirate 8 Spiders 0

6) Pirates 3rd mozzie bite
So you'd think I'd be getting the hang of this no-bitin Pirate malarky eh? Naw! Xmas day and Noony and I are gettin fucked up on Buckfast (I will write a whole blog on Buckie at some point as well most likely) and decide to sit on the front porch. I'm not a complete idiot so I spray all exposed areas with aeroguard (as per instructions on the back of the bottle) and we light a couple of mozzie coils. The next thing Im scratching the back of my right thigh. Oh oh. Yip. The wee fuckers have snuck up on me ninja style and bitten me through my jeans successfully avoiding mozzie coils and aeroguard. Dear oh dear so the next day I just leave it and apply cream to see if it will go away by itself but of course it didnt. To begin with I had a mark on the back of my thigh which trebled in size and then a mark appeared on my inner thigh which also then trebled in size. I headed to the hospital to see if I could get more antibiotics. I didnt have to wait too long to be seen and the nurse was nice and could gather that I knew what I was talking about. The doctor came in and basically told me to put corticosteroid cream on it and it would be fine. I said no freakin way. There is no freakin way I am leaving this hospital with a tube of cream which I already have and which you can see by the state of my leg is getting worse, not better. He was under the mistaken impression that I had been bitten on my inner thigh I said no, that is inflammatory spread I can assure you there is no bite there can you see a bite? No. So much arguing and he agrees to give me antibiotics. Idiot. I'm not a stupid person I wouldnt even be asking for them if I didnt need them and I sure as hell dont want to be on antibiotics for 20-odd days out of every month that's bullshit. I also dont appreciate it when they look at you and ask if you had mozzie spray on. I was like yes 40% heavy duty Deet motherfucker its supposed to be mosquito kryptonite!! He thought it was funny. To be honest I probably will too once the swelling and itching has calmed down.
Lesson learned - Wear mosquito spray outdoors/indoors/under clothes/on top of clothes/no tight jeans and light mozzie coils 10 mins before you leave house and have bug spray at all times.

So Im at the stage now where tomorrow I shall be hitting the town yet again to gather even more tools for my arsenal of mozzie bite prevention. They want a war I'll bring them a war. I cant afford to keep going to the dr for mozzy bites and it doesnt look like I'll be building up an immunity to them anytime soon. Here's hoping I've learned from my mistakes and I shall be putting 100% effort into not getting bitten! Wish me luck.

Saturday 25th September

So today is leaving day for everyone else. I met up with Dennis and Josh and we went for ramen one last time. The noodles were awesome but it was hard to smile as I knew I'd have to say goodbye shortly. I love hanging out with these guys they have an awesome sense of humour and I will miss them loads.

Back to the hotel. Everyone is packed and ready to go. Mitch had already left but I said my goodbyes to Aureole, Karin, Bruce, Crystal, Josh and Dennis. I head up to my hotel room to have a wee moment to myself to think about the amazing week that has just passed.

After a quiet moment to myself I head out to meet up with Adam he's drawing at Chopstix with Benny. We meet up and hang out for a bit, go for a wander and take some pictures. Adam has plans for dinner and although I am invited I say my goodbyes and head back to the hotel and pack my suitcase. 

Now for some random pics I took that I didn't have room for earlier!

 There are vending machines everywhere, for every 10 people in Japan there's a vending machine.

                                                    Manga, manga everywhere

                                          Pet store that sells mini dogs

                                   Hilarious t-shirts "It gets on the mama" is my favourite

                                               Not an uncommon sight in Osaka!

So, suitcase packed I get some take-away snacks and sit in my room and think, something I've not had time to do for a good long while.

When I think back on all that has happened in this year alone I think to myself that I am an incredibly lucky individual. Never in my wildest dreams would I picture myself here in this place in this moment. If you had asked me when I was a teenager where I would most like to visit if I could go anywhere, anywhere in the world at all Japan would have been number 1. To have been there twice in one year blows my mind. I'm not a well travelled person, before 2010 the number of places I have been to you could count on one hand. In this year alone I have been to Japan twice, America and now I'm heading to Australia. It's quite possibly the most exciting and terrifying thing I have ever done in my life.

This past week has been fabulous I LOVE Japan. I think when my Australian Visa is up I will definately be coming back here. For now though I have to move on, Littlest Hobo style :)