Three Good Days

I've actually had three pretty good days the last three - ever since I had most of Wednesday off ill in fact. Thursday I was so-so at work, but instead of bailing again, I had a goal to stay there all day, even if it meant taking all the crappy email work. I wanted to go and see the council fireworks and Christmas thing on South Bank.

Which I made, though if I remember the work day correctly, it was a struggle. Well worth it though, wandering down to South Bank through town after work, seeing the crowd but mostly the crowds in a positive mood through Queen Street, and the Christmas tree and angels and reindeers and Santa glass statuettes, all very pretty.

Then across to South Bank proper, and woohoo a ferris wheel was right there almost at the front gates. As well as a big big screen in front of a large grassed area, where families could watch free movies, with the food choices up there - mmm, smell of hot dogs and chips yum.

There were groups of 'elves' all over the place, guiding people around, and telling the kids whether they had been naughty or nice and whereabouts on Santa's list they were. Santa was on a Holden ute, being drawn by six white boomers (aka kangaroos in real language), although it looked like one of the kangas was doing the driving of the ute. A tree surrounded by Christmas lighting, that didn't really come into its own until dark - all very festive, and I was wandering around with that silly half grin of mine, the one I get for no particular reason.

Oh, okay, so I may have been experiencing general happiness, whatever LOL.

Had a quick look at the carollers - umm, or however you spell those people that sing Xmas carols - wasn't exciting enough for me to stick around, and then wandered up to light a candle and make a wish, donations to the hospital. Felt sorry for them a bit, not the greatest turn out, and the wind was creating havoc on the floating candles that they were trying to put on the ornamental pond.

Wandered along the riverfront, speakers had been put up to blast out, err play Christmas songs, Thursday I think they had the Destiny's Child Xmas CD on repeat or something, and got back to the ferris wheel. I can't remember the last time I was on one of those - perhaps Dreamworld a few years ago or something, and it was fun being on it - yes, another one of those silly stupid grin moments.

Fireworks were well worth going out for, and found that my camera has a good fireworks show setting. Wandered around South Bank a bit more, before going back to the city and seeing the decorations at night, which was nice. Got home after everyone else had gone to bed, which is pretty rare for me on a weeknight - well, a non Friday weeknight.

Yesterday at work was the first time since my last hospital excursion I actually felt more than 60% okay - at points there, I am sure I was working on full barrels, which felt good. Whether it was a last day of the year reaction or not, I'm not sure, but it can give hope for next year for me, that I won't be out on my back at only fifty fifty health. Fingers crossed.

There were drinks after work, and I was tempted to go, but then had the thought I see them around for forty hours a week anyways, and I need to take a break from it all. And that first beer could turn into an all nighter, and I had been out the night before anyways. Two whole weeks off yahoo.

And then the third good day, today, mainly due to the fact that I took my parents out for tea, I got them out of the house on steak eggs and chips night, as Saturday meals have been the last however many years. Mum had been keen on seeing the fireworks and stuff, but with me also wanting to go, she said earlier in the week that if I wanted to see them, to see them myself because who knows whether the family would get out to them. My parents, seriously I am sure have only been out half a dozen times, if that, all year, and if you took out the work related outings, would have gone out two, maybe three times before tonight.

So to sweeten the deal, I offered to pay for dinner, as a Christmas present thing. I managed to get them out, surprisingly enough, although my sister didn't come, she has a thing with crowds at the moment. This is the sister who is moving to Melbourne, but at the moment it is all sympathy towards her crowd issues.

We managed to get a table at Decks, which is a seafood and steak place - with no booking, I think we got about the final table at that time of night, 6.30pm, which was good, because I didn't really want to head off to the pub, or Subway or general take outs. It had looked nice as I had walked past it on Thursday night, and I thought of making a booking, but wasn't sure what time we would be in there.

The girl apologised that it was an inside table, but the place is light and airy anyways, lots of people to watch, great service, wonderful food - it was telling when the garlic bread starter came out, made up almost as a mini pizza, was delicious - when the starter exceeds expectations, well, it's a good sign.

The service was friendly, prompt and with a smile, and the clincher, at least for me, was the music. Dido with 'Here With Me', Robert Miles with 'Children', that catchy lyric 'Another Point of View' via google have found is done by DB Boulevard, along with others that I can't quite bring to mind at the moment, all very chill out, all very excellent. Yes, definitely the music was the clincher in my point of view - food was fab, service - but I have already gushed about all that. Was thinking about it as a work excursion destination, but then thought that you would get all the price conscious biddies complaining.

Said to Mum that my food was presented well enough to take a photo of, she said she wasn't impressed and that if I did take a photo, well I can't remember the exact words, but it wasn't going to be nice. Paid the bill in full, made sure I gave a good tip - I don't usually tip because it isn't the culture over here, but was well enough impressed to this time around.

Am so glad we got in early and weren't turned away due to not booking.

Watched the fireworks, Mum really enjoyed them, I think Dad did as well, but he is less vocal in what he thinks. And was good to have a second go at them, on Thursday I was too busy taking pictures to just enjoy them - and there were some good things happening on the barge fireworks wise that I missed not having full vision the other night. Walked across the bridge to town and again Mum was impressed with the glass statuette Santas and reindeers and angels.

Can you tell that I am brimming with, well, I would have to describe it as pride that something I 'organised', for want of a better word, well I gave the encouragement for the night out, came off so well. Lots of brownie points in the bank with the parents I think.

Have had fun the last three days - and off to Tas tomorrow for a week and a half of Christmas and New Yearing down there. I may dash something off blogwise tomorrow morning, but may not as well. Will see how we go - if not, then the next you hear from me may well be 4 Jan. As usual with my out of town expeditions, I intend to keep an actual written physical diary, just in case anything interesting or exciting does happen.

England winning the next two tests perhaps? LOL.

Pauly

Sick Day

Yep, most of another day off - I went in this morning, but three phone calls in that nauseous feeling of pins and needles on the inside of my skull started in earnest. Tried a few email jobs, but really was kidding myself about how I was going. Better to rest up at home, and try to get better for the days ahead. At least that's the theory.

I'm getting more sleep and I'm taking things easier at work, so I'm not quite sure why the electrical storms in my head keep threatening. Perhaps that thing called breakfast that I still hardly ever have could improve things?

I hate feeling useless at work - but there is the counterargument that I have been pushing myself too hard to recover as well. Was told that the goals I have set myself are quite high, both by the boss and one of my workmates. Will see how things go - friggin three months to see a neurologist, grrr.

One thing with the more sleep I am getting is that I can actually remember my dreams, and boy, they have been doozies the last week.

First one, I have been out partying all night in Brisbane's Queen Street Mall, although most of the night before dawn just passes in a blur. I then head home and only then remember that I am the only one in the house and I had the responsibility for feeding the animals and all. I find the dog outside the house, and the cat inside - I thought I had left her out and worry about her messing the place somewhere, but then see the cat door. I realise I am in my grandparent's place in Upper Hutt - in reality they haven't lived there for hmm five or so years. And finally the two sets of birds I was supposedly looking after have completely run out of water, and their seed is just the shells. Bad Paul, bad...

Second dream, somehow I get onto Air Force One, the US President's very own 747. For some reason he is in Australia, and everyone is rushing around because someone - outer space aliens, for some mad reason I think - is threatening to nuke the planet. However, instead of multiple missiles and explosions, they detonate a massively huge device in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, so hot it basically immediately melts the polar ice caps. War and environmentalism, what had I had for dinner that night?

Thirdly, this morning, it starts out with me in one of my high school classrooms, again in Upper Hutt, with the teacher doing some sort of religious education. He takes the bible around the room asking for volunteers to read excerpts and interpret their meaning. Me being me of course, my skin starts crawling at the mere thought of having to read the good book. From my conscious mind, to my dream land comes the thought of Ezekial 25:17, the one quoted from Pulp Fiction, which tells me I wasn't quite as in a deep sleep as I thought or hoped.

Then the dream morphs into me going out with workmates to a pub somewhere in town, which turns out to be the meeting point for the local Contiki trips. Only eleven people going on this one, and they brought in the truck that they would be on - sleeping in it as well, to avoid the crocodiles apparently.

These mental images proudly brought to you by Paul's imagination.

Slightly Better

Had another so so day at work yesterday - I was going along quite happily, helping customers and all, when this one customer rang in on a transfer through to me, wanted something done that I can't do, but I was more than happy to take the details and put it through to the team which did do it (or attempt to, she was asking something I don't think could be done). Then the whole tone of her conversation changed - it was, I KNOW you can do what I want over the phone, I WON'T get off the phone until what I want has been done. And also, that old favourite of I've been on the phone for twenty five minutes and why did you take the transfer when you couldn't help me?

Umm, maybe because I need a full picture of what you want, I can't just magically do anything just by some company details.

Anyways, when the attack dog persona came out, the bottom of my stomach fell out, my breathing quickened up, my focus was on the phone and computer screen, can be classed as tunnel vision perhaps. After I had successfully gotten rid of her - umm, warm transferred to the appropriate section - I went to the boss and said I couldn't handle any more customers on the phone for the day. Yay for email work.

But it was slightly better than the day before - by the time I got on the bus home, I was happy enough when listening to my music again. On Monday I was just flat for most of the night. And is it only Wednesday? Surely it must be Friday by now?

Paul

Bad Day

I had a really bad day at work yesterday - apart from the English losing the cricket of course. But yesterday was the first day since my last 'fainting spell' that I had annoyed customers on phone calls. I'm not sure whether my coping mechanisms are up to snuff yet.

Had three bad calls in a row, asked the acting boss for some time out of phone calls, which she gave. Then a couple hours later she came over and asked me to go back on the phones, because they were busy or something - of course, me being Mr 'Never Say No' in the workplace, jumped back in. And then about six minutes to go until home time and I get another bad call. I put the guy on hold and hit my head against the monitor a couple times.

Just feeling totally drained as I caught the train home, and hardly spoke at all last night to anyone. And have to put the mental armour all back on again today. And I hate appearing to be slacking off at work, wondering whether my illness is all in my head, because no one else can get in there and have a look.

Eh, back to it I guess.

Paul

English Batting Collapses

As regular as clockwork unfortunately, and there go the Ashes. Hmmph.

And it got me to thinking, as all these Australians with smiles on their faces wandered around the place, why do I support the English in the cricket? Was asked that the other day, in a genuinely quizzical and curious manner. After all, I am living in Australia, and it's not as if they were playing New Zealand- who, coincidentally, also got done today, by the Sri Lankans at the Basin in Wellington.

Perhaps it is the fact that the Australian cricket team seem to be basically perfect at the moment, and the fact that as a Kiwi, I have seen too many humiliating losses to the Aussies, especially in the cricket, to really want to go for them. Wow, that was a long, convoluted sentence just gone there.

I don't mind some of the Australian cricketers, Gilchrist and Lee come to mind specifically, as also I have never liked Warne or Ponting, but as a team they are just so devastating, that of course I like to see them knocked off their perch, be it by us, the Poms or anyone else.

I don't actually mind Australia in most other sports, apart from rugby and swimming. Of course, it annoys the heck out of me that the Wallabies have got two World Cups, and the All Blacks always seem to peak in non World Cup years, but as long as it isn't a World Cup final, I can quite happily support the Australians - again, I can't stand George Gregan as an individual.

In the swimming of course Australia is all over the record books and medal tallies - when the rest of the world goes for personal bests, Australians seem to be disappointed if they don't get a world record. And don't get me started on the Give Australia As Many Medals As Possible Games, aka the Commonwealths.

Was thinking, and there is one sport I do always support Australia in, unless playing New Zealand - the netball. Partly because only six nations seem to play it, also because the trans Tasman games are the best out. Also perhaps rugby sevens, because it is so wham bam wow over in fifteen minutes, straight onto the next game.

Of course, 'bigging up' the English cricketers made me think what am I doing in Australia. I think I contribute to the country, even though I'm not a citizen - I work, and pay taxes, and add to that all important GDP - but the other thinking is that I'm here taking an Australian job blah blah blah, and if I don't support the country in sport what am I doing here. Then again, I thought we had freedom of speech and democracy in this country - apart from the Ashes perhaps.

And then thinking about what annoys me so much about most Australian sports teams - it's the arrogance I think, the we know we are going to win even before the coin is tossed. Of course, what I see as arrogance can be seen by Australians as self confidence - and suddenly there is the answer, because my own self confidence yo-yos so much, I can't understand people, sports teams, a country with that sunny disposition.

Thinking specifically Oz and NZ, over this side of the Tasman the national day is celebrated as the perfect landing in 1788 in an empty country (or terra nullus, I think the Latin has it). Whereas Waitangi Day back home is more a day for discussion, or sometimes argument, because there was a treaty signed with the native population there, and there have been mistranslations ever since. Have always thought Anzac Day should be the national day in New Zealand, rather than February 6.

Then the thought comes, well if I'm not happy with Australia, why don't I go back home. Let me tell you, the thought crosses my mind more than occasionally. Of course, in Wellington, my home town, I have two couples who are close friends, and apart from the job, the accommodation and the rest, it would be perfect. Of course, most of my friends are scattered to the four winds.

And my family being in Brisbane is how I somewhat accidentally ended up here. The Accidental Alien perhaps, somehow escaped being shipped to Woomera or Nauru.

Sorry, just having one of my cynical moods here. Today at work didn't help either.

Paul

Anzac Square

Was wandering around Anzac Square in town the other day, seeing the Eternal Flame honouring the First World War, the horseman honouring the Queenslanders in the Boer War (before Federation, remember), the World War Two memorials with the fuzzy wuzzies of Kokoda and the nurses caring for the wounded, as well as the Korea & Malaya memorial and the Vietnam one.

Was thinking, one day there may well be one about Afghanistan and Iraq.

Sometimes I wish I had a time machine to go forward twenty years and see how history will judge this war on terror. Oh, and also get the teams who will win the World Series for the next few years and bet big on them - yes, Back to the Future was on, AGAIN, on the weekend.

Paul

Queensland, Beautiful One Day...

Perfect the next - just don't get sick up here if you can help it.

I got my two specialist appointments from the seizure, stress attack, whatever it was two and a half weeks ago. The psychologist will take a month and a bit, while the neurologist doesn't have a spare slot until early March, just under three months away. When the secretary or whatever you call them nowadays said the next available appointment is 7 March, I was a bit in shock, and said I would think about it.

Of course, I got back to them a couple hours later and said yeah, book me in for then. I thought briefly of talking to my GP to get another referral to a specialist who may be less busy, but then considered the fact that this was the second neurologist I had been referred to, the first one who advised they weren't taking on any new patients at this time, and my mother said a three month wait wasn't TOO bad, so rather than be picky and ask for a third referral, I will just shut up, grin, bear it, and hope I don't flake out the next three months.

Or maybe that would be a good idea, get the thing fast tracked more. One of the funny in a worrying sense way things that has happened the last couple weeks, is that when I am out and about in crowds, shopping centres and the such, I am feeling nauseous, dizzy and all that. A bit of a worry, but this whole stress and seizure thing is such a chicken and egg story, which started first, because both are making the other worse, vicious circle - and no, this isn't my normal over analysing at all.

I was having my hair cut in the Myer Centre today, and my concentration, my sense of well being, just completely went out the window. Nausea threatening to overwhelm me - the hubbub of the crowds outside, the feeling my head was too heavy to hold up, perhaps wanting to close my eyes and fall asleep - and no, I wasn't tired when I went out to town at all. Just a sense of being overwhelmed - worrying.

More later
Paul

Iraq Study Group, and australia

The Foreign Minister, Alexander Downer, is on the TV behind me giving his ideas on the Iraq Survey Group report that was released in Washington overnight, Australian time. Was hoping to grab a transcript from the 7.30 Report website, but obviously I was expecting it too quickly - oh, that's right, they would probably wait until it had screened in WA to put it up online.

Anyways, the gist of what Downer is saying is that it is okay for the Americans to have their own debate, but he won't say whether it will impact on any Australian decision - oh, and that hundreds of thousands of Iraqis died under Saddam, and although lots have died since the war (better wording would be since the invasion) it's mainly Iraqis killing Iraqis, and that any significant coalition involvement should be training instead of combat.

What a muppet, and how does the guy have any credibility left after his apparent glaring incompetence during the AWB thing. How many cables were sent to his office, only to remain unread? Or so the terms of reference Commissioner Cole got would have you believe.

And just when you think Aussie politics was about as bad as it gets, she's baaack - Pauline Hanson is sounding the media out about resurrecting her political career. Instead of the Asians and Aborigines this time around, she is warning that there are too many Muslims and disease ridden Africans allowed into the country. If I roll my eyes as much as I want to about the fact this woman, with those complaints, with some public backing, has a political career in this country, I would go blind because my optical nerve would snap.

Muppets, the lot of them.

Paul

People's Day

I was going to do my Christmas shopping yesterday, at the local shopping centre, but was umming and ahhing on the bus, and decided to head into town instead. I wanted to see the new Gallery of Modern Art, or GoMA as it has also been named, which had been opened the night before. Was expecting to only be there a couple of hours, a taster as it were, and then head into town to do other stuff.

I didn't manage to get across the river into the city proper until after 4pm - it was People's Day at the Cultural Centre, after the VIP opening of GoMA the night before. I wasn't there when Beattie opened it, but from the coverage last night, he basically said 'it's your's, get to it' or something akin to that, in a grumpy tone - I guess if you open everything every second day, you get sick of doing it all the time.

Wandered in to the museum, asked if I could take photos, the girl said yes, but no flash photography please, and thanked me for asking. I caught up with the Premier's media entourage in front of two giant statues of Chairman Mao (kind of appropriate with Queensland being a one party state), and I got asked by the Sunday Mail girl what I thought of the place, with my photo taken even - it didn't make the article in the paper though. Wasn't expecting it to though - I got some unspoken coverage of me on National Nine News though. Should I be vain and ask the station for the coverage perhaps?

Was very impressed with the gallery though - nice and light and airy, compared to the older part of the Cultural Centre, which seems very concretey, very confined, very, if I dare say it, ugly. And, as one of the artists said on the news last night, is good that they have built a world class thing in Brisbane that is NOT a sports ground, is quite surprising in fact.

The gallery building itself is great, and the exhibits are not what you would expect in the stereotypical cultural backwater. As I think I said earlier in the year, the museum seems to have gone a bit downhill, but the art galleries, both GoMA and the more general, pre-1970 Queensland Art Gallery are for Queenslanders to be proud of.

Was pottering around quite happily in the galleries, and then, as part of People's Day, the state government pulled out a lot of stops. There were tents all over the cultural district, with free water, free sunscreen, free guides, and I think free hats as well, although I didn't pick up one of those. Was a very good idea, and whoever organised it should be congratulated.

Also had the usual food tents, at all the fair type things - I had the German sausage option, frankfurter and kransky - sounds like a detective series on SBS or something - but could also have had Hungarian, French, Dutch, Thai or Aussie type food. And is nice to be able to wander around that part of South Bank, it seems like it has had buildings and or renovations on it since I got back to Oz in 2004.

And the street performers they had hired were fab. The group playing Indonesian or Balinese instruments were good, although when I spoke to one of them afterwards, she said the instruments were totally out of tune - sounded good enough to us plebs I said. Then did my good deed for the day, by getting the woman a coffee while she watched over the equipment.

The acrobats were amazing, whether they were German or just with German accents, the strength was awesome. One of the tricks was the guy holding the girl by the hands and she was doing a hand stand on him, he was on his back, and bit by bit he got up standing without dropping her. The abs on the girl were something awesome as well. Hans and Ule I think they were calling themselves.

They had a 'green bus' around the place as well, which relied on feet power. Very Flintstones and Bedrock vibe, and the performers on that had to work hard to get the public in the thing - no, they didn't get me.

Best street performance I felt though was a bit of aerial ballet, with these dancers on bendy plastic poles about fifteen feet in the air, basically yes doing ballet. Although there was a bit of dance music as well - all very entertaining, and had a great time. We won't mention the fact I was doing it all by myself. Had a bit of a look in the reconfigured 'old' art gallery as well.

Will be down at GoMA again over the next couple of months - it was all a bit much to take in during one visit, and the main Asia Pacific exhibition is only around until early February. And then there is a Warhol one coming along. Yes, to Brisbane, can you believe it?

Today has been watching the cricket and Christmas shopping at Chermside. Christmas shopping for hopefully only the first and only weekend this year - was feeling a bit nauseous in the crowds and all. Not good, but I managed to make it through.

Paul

The King Is Ill

Just when I am going through my latest issues with seizures and stuff, news comes through that one of the most famous Queensland sporting persons, Wally Lewis, or King Wally as the parochial league fans have it, also has epilepsy. In his current role of sports newsreader, while reading the teleprompter, he froze on screen and couldn't talk, before it cut away to the actual report, and the regular newsreader followed up with the rest of the sports news after it cut back to the studio.

Have only seen the actual TV footage of him freezing once, not sure whether I want to rewatch it again or not (the wonders of video on the internet), but my heart went out to him when I saw it. That Wednesday a couple of weeks ago, I only froze while on the phone with one customer, in front of my workmates. Wally froze with a large number of people watching their televisions (not sure what Nine's news ratings in Brisbane are, but I know they aren't what they used to be).

I could totally understand what was going through his mind - the attempt at a smile to reassure that things are okay, the look of panic in his eyes at the thought 'not again, not now'. Yep, I could empathise completely, even though I thought he was a bit of a blowhard when he actually played rugby league.

Wally is on three weeks sick leave at the moment, which will link up with his six weeks annual leave - the word from the family is that it was because there was an attempt to change medication or something. It happened a couple of weeks ago as well, blamed at the time on illness and five kilos weight loss (maybe the losing weight thing is true about seizures?), and in 2001 as well, he stumbled over his words and left the studio during the news, which was rumoured to be a stroke.

At least it is making it a more public issue, although some of the coverage is making it sound worse than it is, at least in my mind. Taking a long time to get back to work, making it sound like it just keeps occurring out of the blue, rather than control it through meds - and here I am, trying to do my same job two days after my flake out. Of course, I'm not on television almost every night, but still.

On the personal level, after Wednesday's doctor's appointment, I did make it into the office both on Thursday and Friday, but on Thursday only took one phone call before my head was swimming, and onto the electronic work via email and fax - and the call I took wasn't a bad one either, in the back of my mind I was thinking how effective I would be on a bad call. On Friday I took phone calls until just before lunchtime, and then finished off the day with emails etc.

We will see how the next week goes - three day week, gloriously enough, have scheduled days off on both Thursday and Friday. Still want to do something with the three days I have off that do not have doctor's appointments attached - have been thinking about just hopping on a bus or train to the hinterland somewhere, whether Maryborough or Dalby or Byron Bay, just for a few days out of the big smoke, somewhere different to take photographs, and to take a break.

With my procrastination no doubt nothing will occur, but it is nice to think, to dream.

Paul