It's been a while between posts. There's been a bit going on.
After more than a year of energetic inaction, the gods smiled, the stars aligned and I gained agreement from the Body Corporate's insurer, the building service and the real estate agent to do the repairs on my bedroom ceiling. The handy offer of a friend's home while she's overseas for a month provided a firm framework of dates with the added incentive that my accommodation during the repairs would be taken care of. Previously I had been advised that the insurer saw no reason I could not live on site during the works. The "works" involve the removal of the entire plaster ceiling in my bedroom, it's replacement and then painting of the entire room. To facilitate this, all bedroom contents would be removed off site To facilitate the removal, contents from the lounge room and the kitchen would also need to be removed.
Suddenly the offer of dates, meant the real estate agent went ahead and booked everything for this week. This week I'm working for five different clients, travelling interstate, going to a concert (Keith Urban) and many other things. It's the worst possible week for me to be out of home, but after such a long wait, I didn't feel I could ask for it to be put back, even a week.
I spent my weekend organising the full wardrobe and paperwork requirements needed for the week and planning what food to take over to my temporary home. On the return from the first trip to hang my clothes and make the bed, I discovered I had a flat tyre! A woman cyclist had been waving frantically at me at an intersection. I thought she was just being friendly so I waved back. The car felt strange and I was dismayed to discover a large bolt had pierced the tyre. I did what any well-prepared girl does in this situation and called the RACV. Two hours later, Mr Chatty Sleazy man arrived.
At first glance he seemed friendly enough. Then he complimented me on my ability to do a reverse parallel park - as he looked me up and down. I was in my worst track suit pants and my hair was a fright. I just needed to get on with things. I said nothing. As he discovered that my spare tyre was bolted into the boot he told me that "we'd have to get screwing heh heh heh". Seriously. He got on with changing the tyre and then advised me that he would be going for some "massage relief" because "that's what a man needs at the end of a long hard day". Well thanks for that. Get on with changing the tyre thanks! I was very pleased that I was in my driveway and not in some isolated spot on the highway.
It's strange sleeping in someone else's house when they're not there. It was a windy night and I don't know how the house usually sounds. I didn't sleep that well.
After work yesterday I went over to my house to see where things were up to. Front door was not locked. An open can of soft drink had been left on my piano. And nothing had been removed. Everything was stacked in the lounge room, kitchen and spare room. Jackets I had hanging behind a door were lying rumpled on the ground. The pathway to the power mains that I had left in the spare room had been strewn with randomly placed things. I imagined everything covered in plaster dust and my stress levels rose. Some other thoughtful touches were the recycling bins were placed on top of clean clothes. A rug from the floor was put on top of clean linen.
I called the removal boss and gave him the feedback. He was apologetic and said everything would be rectified. I kept my thoughts about proper supervision to myself and took photos of everything instead I emailed the building guy and asked him to ensure the plaster work did not commence until everything had been covered and sealed. I hope that has happened. I haven't been able to go and check today.
I'm feeling lucky that I have somewhere to live for a month. I'm skeptical about whether everything will be fixed by Friday night and nervous about how the hell my home will be reassembled. And with a bedroom light for the first time in over a year, I'll be able to see the mess!
It could be worse. At least I have a home and a roof over my head while I'm not able to live in my home.
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Tuesday, 24 June 2014
Thursday, 27 June 2013
Observations from the balcony of a Shakespearean drama - aka Australian parliament
Sitting on the tarmac at Adelaide airport waiting for the plane's doors to close, I received a text message from a friend. The gist was that my friend was watching the news and couldn't believe this was happening again. I barely had enough time to read it before I was instructed to turn my phone off. I guessed the news to which she referred was probably about the leadership of the Australian Labor Party. I'd briefly caught up on the news while waiting for my flight and it seemed that the leadership rumblings were gathering steam.
The moment we landed and were given permission to turn phones back on, I dived for mine. My phone went crazy with messages about what was unfolding. My friends and I often talk politics and as a former union leader they often ask my opinion.
I couldn't contain myself and announced to fellow passengers that Australia had a new Prime Minister and his name was Kevin Rudd. Again.
I shook my head and worried about the off-handedness with which the office of Prime Minister was being treated by the ALP; surely changing leaders was the domain of the opposition party? What would the Australian public think about this attitude? Would we trust them to hold the high office again? I worried. Then I wondered about who would want to be leader in such a situation? Some would argue that it's a selfless and necessary act to take it on, but that's not my view. I'm watching a Shakespearean drama play out and believe that the fourth act will see Kevin Rudd sitting on the windswept opposition benches kept company by a few people who didn't resign and managed to hold their seats and some tumbleweeds. But he'll be leader. It feels like that's what it's all about.
When I arrived home and turned on the television I started to understand more about what had happened and where people had lined up. Bill Shorten had previously been one of the leaders to oust Rudd and replace a Prime Minister in his first term with Julia Gillard, the first woman to hold the office. He swore support for her right up until last night when he switched to back Rudd. I'd be nervous if he was backing me. Did he even stop to wipe the knife?
Labor leaders often seem to make their best speeches in defeat. Julia Gillard was magnificent last night. I tried to imagine how I would be feeling if I had gone through the same thing. It was hard to imagine such composure. The other thing that struck me about her speech was its lack of ego - service was truly at her heart.
The next day, today, former Prime Minister Gillard sat on the backbenches while colleagues sang her praises. It's a bizarre business, politics. Prime Minister Gillard was not a perfect leader. Well the news is that no one is! No one has been! No one is likely to be! Perfection is not required of our male leaders; they seem to be given space to err. The bar for a woman in the role was set to an unattainable height.
Echoing many of the sentiments on twitter, I now wait for the moment when Kevin Rudd or Tony Abbott is asked about whether their wives are gay, thereby questioning their own sexuality as endured by Julia Gillard. I know that it won't happen. It's not really the point either, for if it did happen it would mean all respect had gone. I do like to cling to the thought that a new path has been cut and that our second female Prime Minister will not have quite as hard a time and she will have Julia Gillard to thank for that.
The moment we landed and were given permission to turn phones back on, I dived for mine. My phone went crazy with messages about what was unfolding. My friends and I often talk politics and as a former union leader they often ask my opinion.
I couldn't contain myself and announced to fellow passengers that Australia had a new Prime Minister and his name was Kevin Rudd. Again.
I shook my head and worried about the off-handedness with which the office of Prime Minister was being treated by the ALP; surely changing leaders was the domain of the opposition party? What would the Australian public think about this attitude? Would we trust them to hold the high office again? I worried. Then I wondered about who would want to be leader in such a situation? Some would argue that it's a selfless and necessary act to take it on, but that's not my view. I'm watching a Shakespearean drama play out and believe that the fourth act will see Kevin Rudd sitting on the windswept opposition benches kept company by a few people who didn't resign and managed to hold their seats and some tumbleweeds. But he'll be leader. It feels like that's what it's all about.
When I arrived home and turned on the television I started to understand more about what had happened and where people had lined up. Bill Shorten had previously been one of the leaders to oust Rudd and replace a Prime Minister in his first term with Julia Gillard, the first woman to hold the office. He swore support for her right up until last night when he switched to back Rudd. I'd be nervous if he was backing me. Did he even stop to wipe the knife?
Labor leaders often seem to make their best speeches in defeat. Julia Gillard was magnificent last night. I tried to imagine how I would be feeling if I had gone through the same thing. It was hard to imagine such composure. The other thing that struck me about her speech was its lack of ego - service was truly at her heart.
The next day, today, former Prime Minister Gillard sat on the backbenches while colleagues sang her praises. It's a bizarre business, politics. Prime Minister Gillard was not a perfect leader. Well the news is that no one is! No one has been! No one is likely to be! Perfection is not required of our male leaders; they seem to be given space to err. The bar for a woman in the role was set to an unattainable height.
Echoing many of the sentiments on twitter, I now wait for the moment when Kevin Rudd or Tony Abbott is asked about whether their wives are gay, thereby questioning their own sexuality as endured by Julia Gillard. I know that it won't happen. It's not really the point either, for if it did happen it would mean all respect had gone. I do like to cling to the thought that a new path has been cut and that our second female Prime Minister will not have quite as hard a time and she will have Julia Gillard to thank for that.
Sunday, 25 November 2012
White Ribbon Day - the bruises don't always show
Today, 25 November, is White Ribbon Day in Australia.
White Ribbon is a campaign led by men against male violence perpetrated against women. As I write, the counter on the website shows that almost 64, 000 men have pledged an oath "never to commit, excuse or remain silent about violence against women". I know that I know some of them.
I am fortunate in my life to be surrounded by good men; ones who take this oath for granted in the way that they live their lives.
I have felt unsafe in the company of a man once in my life. It was at work, late one Friday afternoon when there was no one else around. I had experienced bullying at the hands of this man before and this particular afternoon he entered my office in a red-faced rage, standing over me and shouting in my face. He didn't lay a hand on me, but I was not confident that he wouldn't. I found my voice, stepped out of my office into the corridor and told him to "back off" in a tone that said I wasn't in the mood to argue. I think the tone of my voice triggered something and he stopped long enough for me to tell him I wasn't going to have anything to do with him when he was like this.
He left. I was a frightened mess. I called one of the senior men in the organisation and told him what had happened. He helped me take charge of the next steps.
At the hands of men I've experienced sexual harassment, poorly judged "jokes", emotional cruelty and bullying. These experiences have all been in a workplace context. I've also experienced bullying and emotional cruelty delivered by women. When I needed support to address these issues there have been wonderful people, both men and women, who understood that what had occurred was wrong and were prepared to go public and be vocal in their support.
I've had men take on other men to right a wrong on my behalf, when the man who had done the wrong thing wasn't prepared to listen to me. It was a shame that my message about acceptable behaviour had to be delivered by other men in order to be taken seriously, but I was pleased that the message was delivered.
Violence against women can take many forms. The scars and bruises aren't always visible. I don't think violence should ever be tolerated and I try to live my life according to this principle.
I feel personally very lucky, never to have suffered physical violence at the hands of a man and to have many wonderful men in my life whom I know would stay true to the White Ribbon oath if the situation required it - even if they had never heard of White Ribbon and the pledge.
The White Ribbon movement is a powerful and important symbol. Make your pledge today and honour the women in your life.
GIVEAWAY:
TO WIN a double pass to see "2 Days in New York" comment on this post, telling us where you'd like to spend two days and why. Entries close next Friday, 30 November. Winners will be announced on the blog. Don't forget to check back and see if you've won - you'll need to provide your mailing address details.
Passes are valid during the season in Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Gold Coast, Adelaide and the ACT.
Good luck!
White Ribbon is a campaign led by men against male violence perpetrated against women. As I write, the counter on the website shows that almost 64, 000 men have pledged an oath "never to commit, excuse or remain silent about violence against women". I know that I know some of them.
I am fortunate in my life to be surrounded by good men; ones who take this oath for granted in the way that they live their lives.
I have felt unsafe in the company of a man once in my life. It was at work, late one Friday afternoon when there was no one else around. I had experienced bullying at the hands of this man before and this particular afternoon he entered my office in a red-faced rage, standing over me and shouting in my face. He didn't lay a hand on me, but I was not confident that he wouldn't. I found my voice, stepped out of my office into the corridor and told him to "back off" in a tone that said I wasn't in the mood to argue. I think the tone of my voice triggered something and he stopped long enough for me to tell him I wasn't going to have anything to do with him when he was like this.
He left. I was a frightened mess. I called one of the senior men in the organisation and told him what had happened. He helped me take charge of the next steps.
At the hands of men I've experienced sexual harassment, poorly judged "jokes", emotional cruelty and bullying. These experiences have all been in a workplace context. I've also experienced bullying and emotional cruelty delivered by women. When I needed support to address these issues there have been wonderful people, both men and women, who understood that what had occurred was wrong and were prepared to go public and be vocal in their support.
I've had men take on other men to right a wrong on my behalf, when the man who had done the wrong thing wasn't prepared to listen to me. It was a shame that my message about acceptable behaviour had to be delivered by other men in order to be taken seriously, but I was pleased that the message was delivered.
Violence against women can take many forms. The scars and bruises aren't always visible. I don't think violence should ever be tolerated and I try to live my life according to this principle.
I feel personally very lucky, never to have suffered physical violence at the hands of a man and to have many wonderful men in my life whom I know would stay true to the White Ribbon oath if the situation required it - even if they had never heard of White Ribbon and the pledge.
The White Ribbon movement is a powerful and important symbol. Make your pledge today and honour the women in your life.
GIVEAWAY:
TO WIN a double pass to see "2 Days in New York" comment on this post, telling us where you'd like to spend two days and why. Entries close next Friday, 30 November. Winners will be announced on the blog. Don't forget to check back and see if you've won - you'll need to provide your mailing address details.
Passes are valid during the season in Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Gold Coast, Adelaide and the ACT.
Good luck!
Friday, 25 May 2012
Modern day shopping centre fairytale
I know, I know! I've missed a couple of days. My excuse is this: I've spent two very intense days facilitating a program with a very challenging group of men and one woman. I was so tired over the last two nights that I was falling asleep over dinner and was in bed by 8 o'clock. I was even too tired to knit. This morning I woke up at about 7:30 and feel terrific after all that sleep!
Anyway, I want to tell you a story about something that happened to me a few weeks ago.
I was riding down an escalator in the city centre when I heard a man say, "Where am I to behold such beauty?"
I was in my own world and didn't turn around as it didn't seem possible that this comment was directed to me. The speaker was waiting for me at the bottom of the escalator. He had a wide smile and was looking at me intently. As I stepped off the escalator he approached me and repeated his rather Shakespearean statement.
"Melbourne?" I responded, the upward inflection betraying my uncertainty.
I could feel myself blushing under his scrutiny. One part of my brain was flashing its "serial killer/weirdo" alert and the other part was saying "lap it up/this is interesting/why not?" There was also a message running in the background saying, "Wow, that facial that I just had was incredible. I must remember to have it again. What an effect!"
I smiled and said thank you. No need to lose my manners at this moment.
The man was like an enthusiastic puppy, clearly drunk on my beauty (!) as he asked me my name. I gave him my first name and then he asked me about my work. Such a boring question! I try to avoid this question in social settings. What does it really tell you about most people? Anyway, he then moved to direct questioning about my marital status. I told him I wasn't married and he shook his head in disbelief and declared himself the luckiest man on earth. He quickly moved to ask about boyfriends. I replied that I see lots of people. Then he pushed it too far and asked what I do with the people I see. I feigned innocence and he then asked whether we have sex.
Right. That was a line that was crossed. I told him it was none of his business and reminded him that we were standing in a shopping centre, having just met.
He then asked what he could do for me. I didn't really know how to answer this question and he then asked if he could take me out. The alarms in my head were going off again. On one hand I thought it was romantic to be stopped by a man making declarations - if we were in a fairytale, he'd be on a horse and I'd be gathering wild flowers in the forest while I chatted to the birds; on the other hand I feared I was being lured to my death.
While I was feeling overwhelmed, I wasn't feeling chemistry. I was non-committal and politely took his number without making any promises.
I haven't called. What would you do?
Anyway, I want to tell you a story about something that happened to me a few weeks ago.
I was riding down an escalator in the city centre when I heard a man say, "Where am I to behold such beauty?"
I was in my own world and didn't turn around as it didn't seem possible that this comment was directed to me. The speaker was waiting for me at the bottom of the escalator. He had a wide smile and was looking at me intently. As I stepped off the escalator he approached me and repeated his rather Shakespearean statement.
"Melbourne?" I responded, the upward inflection betraying my uncertainty.
I could feel myself blushing under his scrutiny. One part of my brain was flashing its "serial killer/weirdo" alert and the other part was saying "lap it up/this is interesting/why not?" There was also a message running in the background saying, "Wow, that facial that I just had was incredible. I must remember to have it again. What an effect!"
I smiled and said thank you. No need to lose my manners at this moment.
The man was like an enthusiastic puppy, clearly drunk on my beauty (!) as he asked me my name. I gave him my first name and then he asked me about my work. Such a boring question! I try to avoid this question in social settings. What does it really tell you about most people? Anyway, he then moved to direct questioning about my marital status. I told him I wasn't married and he shook his head in disbelief and declared himself the luckiest man on earth. He quickly moved to ask about boyfriends. I replied that I see lots of people. Then he pushed it too far and asked what I do with the people I see. I feigned innocence and he then asked whether we have sex.
Right. That was a line that was crossed. I told him it was none of his business and reminded him that we were standing in a shopping centre, having just met.
He then asked what he could do for me. I didn't really know how to answer this question and he then asked if he could take me out. The alarms in my head were going off again. On one hand I thought it was romantic to be stopped by a man making declarations - if we were in a fairytale, he'd be on a horse and I'd be gathering wild flowers in the forest while I chatted to the birds; on the other hand I feared I was being lured to my death.
While I was feeling overwhelmed, I wasn't feeling chemistry. I was non-committal and politely took his number without making any promises.
I haven't called. What would you do?
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