Imperfect Instructions

Paint and stain tins do not come with comprehensive enough instructions.

Sure they say:

• Do not use if there is the likelihood of rain within 24hours of application
• Do not use in direct sunlight
• Rinse paintbrushes in water

But they don't say:
If two people are staining the area don't stop halfway along the length of timber if you have a very heavy hand when the first person (who may or may not be your long-suffering father) takes a break and you pick up a paintbrush because, after all, it is your house.

No, they don't say that.

If they did they could also give consequences:

Or the final product may look a little lopsided. In fact, you may have a clear square area where someone who is heavy handed (like yourself perhaps) has painted . . . with their heavy hand.

Or include a diagram of the possible result -

In my defence I am a novice at staining decking- now I know what not to do.

And it would be helpful if they could gave more consequences:


Then you'll have to get your long-suffering dad (again) to even it all up with a second coat because you suck at painting decking, even if you were 100% successful at staining the house last summer.

Just sayin' . . . . they don't say that.

Stella x

Of attitude and adolescents

Of all the things you are trained to do when learning how to be a teacher the one thing that's not covered is Parent Teacher nights. No one actually sits down and gives you guidelines on how to conduct it. Despite having taught for many years now I still wonder what all the other teachers say and why I am not made of sterner stuff.

The last few nights we've had Parent Teacher interviews, one of which has stuck in my head. This particular child does the work easily, is a quick study but is very chatty in class. This doesn't hinder her at all, as she frequently tells me, because she still gets the work done.

You may discern from that she has a bit of an attitude happening. This is a new thing- when I taught her in Year 7 we had a good relationship. This has unravelled a little recently. I have found it almost impossible to  get this child to work at a quieter level. She has been moved- she continued to argue with me publicly- and asked to be quiet on several occasions. Still it continued. She persisted with a low grade attitude towards me, yet not quite enough for me to take serious action, especially as the term was finishing and I would hand them back to their regular teacher.

Yet, at Parent Teacher night instead of sternly raising her attitude problem I was embarrassed that mine was the only class in which she was so chatty. When I raised it with her parents they were surprised, no other teacher had made the same comment.  The child, who was present as they are encouraged to be, didn't even look shame faced. 

Why am I not sterner? Why didn't I make a bigger deal about it?

The parents did tell her she was rude and disrespectful and that she should apologise to me. They said this as they departed, of course, she got up and didn't apologise. Why should I end up feeling embarrassed when the child is the one with the poor behaviour? Or her parents? Why weren't they more embarrassed?

Almost making up for that uncomfortable interview was the one where the parent was actually pleased with me. Apparently I had wrought some kind of miracle as her daughter was not only enjoying English, she was doing well, and had embraced Romeo and Juliet with enthusiasm too. (Yay me.)

This Dating Life

After being rejected by Mr Wrong Stage of Life I went out with the Friday Night Drinks Group in town and caught up with some friends. (In comparison to men - or maybe just the men I go out with - friends are so much better.) I quickly had two drinks and was on my way to being tipsy - that would account for the fact that I posed for several group shot photos.

When not quite as inebriated I hate my photo being taken and I dislike the fact that the photos invariably end up on someone's Facebook page. In this case they ended up on the internet on a public page for the Friday Night Drinks Group- there's something about having my photo displayed for all to see that I really dislike. It's hard to say why except for something vague like, it's a privacy thing, but there you have it. I contacted the person who took the photo and she was happy to take it down, so that's fine. However, I think I will just have to avoid having my photo taken at these things.

I had a lovely time chatting to various people, avoiding my mate who has continued to appear at various social activities I go to (and even recently joined the damn Friday Night Drinks group) and monopolise my attention, and was pleased to see some new faces. OK, I'll 'fess up. When I say "new faces" I actually mean men, of course. There were some new women there and I did talk to them too but it's fun when the men come and chat to you. 

Like the guy waiting at the bar with me; he was interesting, but in the end he appeared to be quite taken with one of my girlfriends. Bummer. Still, I'm a big fan of my girlfriend and if she should end up with a new bloke I'd be quite pleased. So I left them alone and chatted to others. Then as I was casting around for someone else to speak to a nice looking guy smiled at me. I hadn't wanted to bust into the group in case the women with him were annoyed, but he smiled, so I figured it was all OK.

To cut a long story short - because apparently I am incapable of posting anything in a nice short to medium word range - we went for a coffee, and then had a lunch date a few days later. It was a pleasant date but I'm just not that 'into him,' as they say. I turned up in casual linen pants and a nice top, some wedges etc he was wearing board shorts and a shirt. (A strange combination.) I felt over dressed. 

A nice guy and interesting but he's into all these outdoor activities that I shy away from: camping? No thanks. Surfing? I might like to try. Snowboarding? Never been. And he loves the-thrill-of-things activities like bungy jumping, wants to try heliboarding etc. Apparently that's where a helicopter drops you off the beaten track somewhere and you get your snowboard and find your own way home. I'm not sure what that leaves for us to have in common. 

So, feeling a little disillusioned I later got back on-line and felt even more disillusioned. The men near my age, or a couple of years older have all of a sudden aged drastically. 

I'm feeling, again, that maybe I should lower my expectations, and yet when I do that I get bored after the 2nd date and don't want to see them again. The whole dating scene is tiring and frustrating; if it wasn't for the fact that I really enjoyed dating someone for a couple of months I'd just give up completely. Actually I hid my profile again while I tried to muster up some more enthusiasm for the whole thing. 

How disappointing that I'm still blogging about this stuff. Sigh. Hawaii 5-O is still on TV maybe I'll just go back to ogling Steve.

Stella x

The Wrong Stage of Life

Or - It’s Not You It’s Me

So recent events have had me dating someone.

I will pause a minute now and let you all get over the shock.

Oh, before you do that let me add that I met him on-line.

And now I’ll give you a bit more time.

Okey dokey, back to it.

It seemed quite promising: he appeared normal, he appeared to be a nice guy, he appeared to be into me. He was also tall.

This was excellent as it meant I could wear the ridiculously high shoes (11.5 cm/ 4 inches) I had foolishly bought in several bouts of excitement at the fact that someone stocks shoes that fit my clown feet. (That’d be a 10.5, or sometimes an 11, or a European 42. For the record I don’t think they make bigger shoes . . . for women.)

The ones pictured are when I really lost control. These are about 5.5 inches high. I mean, how does one walk in them? And do I really want to be almost 6 foot? I was tempted to buy them because the store was having a sale. They had reduced some other shoes by over $100 and for an extra $3 I could grab another pair. So I grabbed these. I’ve worn them once. Still, if I didn’t make foolish decisions when it came to footwear I wouldn’t be female.

But I digress- back to the bloke.

So, we dated for about two months. We had a serious discussion about what we were both looking for. I was looking for a relationship, and so was he. I think. He had 3 kids: twin six year olds and a four year old. I said I was OK with that - I knew from the beginning. And I was willing to throw my hat into the ring and take them all on. (See how badly I want to be in a relationship? Pathetic really.)

He was concerned I might be “really” old by the time his youngest grew up. What could I say? I was older than him. I just told him that I knew his kids would be a big part of his life - and mine if we got that far.  He worried that I wasn’t ‘at that stage of life.’ 

Anyway, it all seemed good. Then I went away for 8 days on a pre-planned trip to Bali with a girlfriend. (Bali is nice and the Balinese very easy going people but it is full of Aussie tourists.)

Whilst away I bought this very cool statue and thought it’d look good in the relationship corner of my bedroom. No harm tapping into some Feng Shui I figured.

Obviously I didn’t buy it soon enough. When I got back and text him to see when he wanted to catch up, he didn’t.

He said that he enjoyed my company but didn’t think we were at the same stage of life and that taking it to ‘the next level’ would be a mistake. Besides, he didn’t miss me as much as he thought he would when I was away.

Great. So, I have eaten the Easter egg I bought him - and very nice it was too. And given away the little gift I’d bought him, and the trinkets I’d bought his kids, to friends who are more deserving.

I’m not that cut up about it so I guess it was for the best anyway. Still, you’d think he could figure these things out before I started to invest in the relationship; if you need someone much younger than me, say that, don’t tell me my age doesn’t matter.

Anyway, far from being devastated I have jumped back on-line, must’ve mended my heart with copious amounts of chocolate. 

I ♥ the telco ombudsman

Oh man. Have been doing MAJOR battle with a nameless telco provider here in Oz.  They are even more crap than I remember them being.  I only have myself to blame because I was very happy with my previous phone and internet provider. Only I got greedy.

A young man came to the door and offered me this fabulous deal. Much cheaper than what I was currently paying. It seemed too good to be true. Initially I was strong:

“I’ve been with them before. I wasn’t happy. I don’t want to be with them again.” I tendered.

But in the face of his persistence I wavered. I went and checked what my old provider was offering me; it was nowhere near as good as what the new telco could offer. So I signed up with them.

“You won’t regret it. I guarantee,” promised their agent. “They’ve changed.”

Changed my arse. (Sorry about the language.)

  

In the first bill they didn't even make an attempt to include all the promised discounts. You know, the ones that were so good I signed up with them.

Then they said they'd "churn" me over from my previous provider. I didn’t have to do a thing. When I queried this and told them it didn’t look like it had happened they reassured me that they had done it but  if my previous provider continued to bill me they’d offer me a credit on their bill.

Naturally my previous provider has billed me. So now I’m paying two providers. When I raised this with the new telco yesterday they insisted that they couldn’t “churn” me over, privacy laws wouldn’t let them.

“But, but that’s what you promised me,” I bleated.

“Well, we can’t do it. And if you want a credit for the bill you need to take it to your nearest store.”

This was not the answer I wanted or what they initially said I'd have to do.

“Oh, so if I want to get out of my contract with you what sort of penalty will I pay?”

“$355.”

Right. Don’t really want to pay that.

Now my latest bill is again missing discounts. There are some in there just not all of them. When I rang and spoke to them the girl argued with me over the wording in the contract. She tried to tell me that the discount was in total and the words ‘something extra’- being an extra discount, didn’t actually mean that.  Finally got to speak to someone else who agreed with me over the wording and what they actually offered me and has applied the discounts etc. So, in theory, everything in future should be hunky dory.

Except . . .after spending an hour on the phone to them each time I get a bill I’m slightly disenchanted with them. So I rang the telco ombudsman hoping he would tell me something other than: You signed the contract, sorry, there's nothing we can do.

That's not what he said.

For the record, I love the telco ombudsman. He tells me that they have done the wrong thing (I won't bore you with even more detail) he has initiated a complaint against them on my behalf, he reassures me that over 90% of complaints are resolved to the customer's satisfaction and now I am waiting for someone from the telco who will need to negotiate with me for the things that I want.

What do I want?

Encouraged by the ombudsman I want to go back to my previous provider, and I want the telco to pay the bills I've received from my previous provider coz that's what they said they'd do. The ombudsman kept on at me until I told him exactly what I wanted. So now they have to come to the party and try to meet my demands. If I am still not happy I ring the ombudsman back and they go into bat for me again.

Like I said, I love the ombudsman.

Stuck in my ways . . .

OK, so I’m going to ‘fess up and admit to having had a few dates with someone I met on-line dating. I know - unbelievable, right? It’s early days so I’ll just wait and see what happens but I can't help musing on things. 

What concerns me is that I’m so set in my ways that it’s hard to remember how to ‘be’ with someone. Eg If they make you a cup of tea and it’s not very good, do you say anything? If you don’t you then run the risk of forever getting cups of tea made to that original formula.

It has also brought up the staying-over issue. If I stay over, or he stays over, I don’t sleep. This is very disappointing, as you can imagine. I don’t sleep even if I go into my spare room. Perhaps this will change with time, although based on my experience of marriage it is unlikely to improve a lot. I’d be happy if it just improved to the point where if I at least go to another room I sleep. That’s what I’m aiming for at the moment.

It has made me realize how settled I am in my ways. I like doing things my way, I like my space, I like lots of time alone, and I like sleeping in my bed, alone. It is, perhaps, fortunate he is quite relaxed and accommodating. 

I know I should just relax because it’s not as if we’re about to move in together but my little head starts thinking about that kind of thing. There were lots of compromises that had to be made when I was married and I’ve got used to not having to make those now. I wonder if I would ever be able to go back to being gracious and compromising.

I still think the best marriage is one where you live next door to each other. For some inexplicable reason, however, people laugh hysterically when I mention this. I don’t think they would’ve had the nerve to laugh at Katharine Hepburn when she said it! 

Right, back to just enjoying dating and having sleep-overs. Breathe, Stella, just breathe. 

Of foolishness and frailty

Ah, so I thought a Cuban dancing weekend sounded like a good idea: social dancing on the Friday and Saturday night, dance workshops and classes the rest of the time. A friend was coming with me, I’d know people – well one person –it’d all be fine.

On the downside the accommodation was less than salubrious.  It was advertised as dorm style accommodation of 6 – 8 bunks. All the two bed, en-suite rooms were already gone. When I arrived I discovered it was more like an army barracks. There were about 20 bunks stretching down the large room, a toilet block, then more bunks. No doors. Except on the individual toilets. More bunks, shower area, bunks, repeat.

I got there before my friend and registered. The squeals of delight and the cheek kisses as I did this were a clear indication that everyone around me knew each other. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little left out, but I comforted myself with the thought that my friend would arrive soon.

He did. We went to the pub next door for dinner ‘with’ all the other participants, who all sat in large groups. We sat on a separate table. Neither of us were optimistic about the evening at this point. Still, we ate, and returned to the camp for the evening class and then the social dancing.  The dancing looked fun; Cuban salsa, I’ve previously mainly done L.A. style but I thought this weekend was an opportunity to learn more Cuban. They were also doing Bacchata and Zouk and some other dances I didn’t know.

It was hard to get a dance. The salsa scene is rather cliquey- actually any dance scene I’ve been involved in has always been cliquey.  I’d only done a couple of Cuban classes and only recognized one or two faces; my friend was fairly new to dancing and was intimidated by the more experienced dancers there. I couldn’t blame him; I was intimidated and I could probably follow anyone who asked me to dance.

Only they didn’t. 

My friend decided it was too much for him and decided not to stay the weekend. I figured I could tough it out. If I could survive the social dancing, maybe make some friends, Saturday would be better with the classes. I asked one or two guys to dance, a couple asked me but it was hard going.

The longer I stayed there the more envious I became of the couples dancing so well together, looking like they belonged with each other. I returned to the dorm and was surrounded by friends giggling and laughing, some getting all glammed up in  little black dresses and red lipstick, others returning for their drink stash.

I feel like a bit of a failure, and a little sad, but the introvert in me won out and I decided to come home too.  Crap. Life as an extrovert must be easier.