Human Recycling (a retrospective blog)

Where is the middle ground in the timeline between hired and fired? Some would say that sub-par performance at work, irresponsible or inappropriate behaviour outside of work (reflecting bad on the employer) or disputes with co-workers could lean you towards the negative end of the spectrum. But is it only a two sided spectrum, where poor behaviour plays a boulder sized weight against a feather of good on the scale of things?

Recently, a guy at work, whom I consider a close friend of mine, is under pressure from human resources over an incident outside of work. As hard as our department has apparently fought to keep him on and just offer some sort of punishment, our dear learned friend in the upper room (H.R) is shooting first and asking questions later. Enter our villain. His name is Adam Hopper, he's a pisces and his hobbies include threatening and firing hard working and trustworthy employees, not only cancelling but completely destroying all staff parties and generally neutering Panorama Mountain Village on the whole. This guy is the reason H.R should now be known as "Human Recycling". We've heard it a billion times before, Pano doesn't care about it's employees. Although the whining tone present in that last sentence may sound sarcastic, it's basically true.

There is no room for discipline in this ski resort, and it's a ridiculous concept. I wouldn't be surprised at all if in the training manual for H.R it stated, 'If someone fucks up, no matter what the circumstances, fire them and get someone else'. Regular people would expect that at a ski resort on a working holiday, someone is eventually going to fuck up and most likely whilst intoxicated. As a member of the current staff, I would love more than anything to appeal for a more rational method of discipline to encourage future staff to not be shitting their pants scared that they're going to accidentally fuck up somehow and have to cut their experience short to go home as a result of no more job. But I'm afraid if anyone were to actually speak up about it, they'd be fired on the spot...such is the "If you don't like it...you can giiiiiit out" mentality within Panorama's Employee "Experience" division.

But back to personal vendetta's. Adam Hopper has skyrocketed to prematurely win the "Buzz Killington Award, for biggest buzz-kill" for 2010. I mean, he does work in Human Resources and I'm still not completely sure what he does, other than break more balls than the world marbles champ. He is nominated for such performances as;

1. Not only cancelling and personally tearing down our "Fight Night" party, but threatening all staff with being fired upon knowledge of their involvement. He did all this without even enquiring as to what the party was for, what the theme meant or what activities would take place at said party. We were actually going to dress up as wrestlers and boxers and use our makeshift ring as a dance space. Although no literal fighting was going to take place, the result was that no party took place.

2. He has refused countless trusted, hard working and loyal returning staff jobs for the following season, many of which were personal friends of mine and were only informed about not having a job after several email's, calls and other follow-ups were placed, screwing them around for months.

3. Now this, my friend got drunk and did something stupid. He can't remember it, there was no intent involved in the act whatsoever. It wasn't even meant to get outside of our department. But somehow it did and not he's facing the cut. Yes, there should be some sort of punishment, and he definately isn't proud of what he's done. But in the real world, workplace's would be sued over this kind of termination.

Adam Hopper is an extremist. He believes that if one person gets away with a simple punishment, then countless other staff will think they can get away with it. He doesn't stop to think that, hold on, the staff here aren't fucking stupid. Isn't that the whole point of discipline anyway? To prove to everyone that, yeah, it's not ok, and to show the original participant not to do it in the future, but still to encourage his growth within a company that put a lot of time and effort into fucking sponsoring the guy! It's like at the fight night party, he automatically assumed we're having bare knuckle brawls, didn't ask any questions, just ripped everything down.

I'm ranting on in frustration but in summary, Adam Hopper is a Human Recyclist...and he doesn't even pay the 5c per item; just gathers them up and into the crusher they go. Not exactly eco-friendly.

A Public Figure

The creation of a facebook profile, in my opinion, automatically comes with the added assumption that people actually give a shit about who you are. We just can't wait to let everyone know where we are, what we're doing. The girls are preparing what I can only liken to a conga line, setting up for their next 'profile pic', and the boys are buffing and tanning getting ready for the perfect shirtless-at-a-festival photo op, and they all just can't wait to show everyone. Friends like and comment it, even Grandma has a page and she raves a negative comment about the openess of today's youth and tells you to put a shirt on; but let's face it guys, Grandma's always right. I mean, about everything, not just the shirt thing.

Today I was confronted with this really snooty feature of facebook called Privacy settings. It just makes no sense. Facebook's purpose is to create publicity for our lives. The other day, a friend of mine noticed that someone who is not listed as my friend, commented a photo of mine. "Do you feel comfortable with that?"..."Yeah," I said. "That would make me feel really wierd, that anyone can look at photos of me," she replied. Well why do you have facebook then, I thought. I mean I know a lot of people say, Oh It's a great way to stay in touch with friends and blah blah, Bullshit. I know that before facebook I was able to stay in touch with friends just fine, and I also didn't waste four hours of my day at a computer desk doing it.

To be honest, I didn't have many photos up before I came overseas, but since I had some exciting stuff to show, I wanted to show anyone who was interested; friends or not. I know I'm lame for admitting it but, I also got facebook because I like to think people would look at it. Admittedly it gets a little wierd when 'Tim is on his second sprite for the day' is being shoved down your throat; but that's what you signed up for. If you want to limit your publicity to a handful of people then you may as well write your posts on a piece of paper and stick it on the fridge at home for everyone to see.

I noticed the year following my subscription to facebook I had at least 10 times the amount of people wish me a happy birthday, assuming sincerely. It made me realise that maybe we don't actually believe people care, rather we want to make people care. So we create this constant reminder about our birthdays, and our daily activities and recent photos to force people to look. Whether they take notice or not, it seems the solace comes in the feeling of being newsworthy anyway; we're in that feed.

Facebook is, by default, a publicity machine and an unstoppable monster. Accept it and embrace it.

Thumbs Down

Who had the stupid idea to put Orange Juice in those square cartons? This blog will be a really short, Peter Griffin "What Grinds My Gears" style rant. The other day I bought a Five Alive OJ in a 1Litre carton, and when I pop the flap open and peel off the silver thing, there's this tiny Mike & Ike sized hole staring back at me as if I'm actually supposed to pour my drink through this thing. Found out later that, yeah, that was the exit hole. The thing with this, is that I just cleaned the counter because we're moving out of our house in a week and after one cheeky pump fake where the orange juice hits the wall of the box, the pressure from the tiny hole shoots the orange juice far, and then when I try to correct it, it slows down for a steady pour. Even then, with that tiny and odd shaped hole even if you were to drink straight out of the box you wouldn't get much. I had to wipe up all the spillage and lost half my orange juice in the process. Idiots.

I Love You, Dude.

So I was skyping my best mate back in Australia last night, and when we finish our conversation he ends with, "Love you, bro". I absently reply, "Love you too, dude".

I could go on with some kind of lengthy, impressively vocab-infused tale, pandering to the increasingly high blogging standards of modern day academia. But I think I'll just cut to the chase. Guys are phasing in a sensitive side. I believe that we just suddenly (and unconciously) decided that platonic man-love is okay in the same way as it is for girls, although maybe not as intense. As you may be aware of, change is a gradual process, not immediate. We all know there are still a bunch of big, burly, beer swigging, gritty, emotionless men out there doing their thing; and it's called going undercover in the tool shed.



It was just a funny realisation (like everything I blog about), that we are allowed to say a meaningful phrase like "Love you" to someone we've been best friends with for over 7 years, but only if it's made to sound kind of tough with the suffix "dude", "bro" or "bra". Furthermore, why do thuggish colloquialisms at the end of a sentence cancel out its honest meaning? It is this modern day faux pas that continuously adds to my confusion over Hip Hop slang; specifically and not so recently David Guetta's "Sexy Bitch"...is calling a girl 'bitch' accepted as a positive thing now? You can tell Guetta was forced into that one by the studio heads. There is no way someone of his age (who in all probability has at least three daughters of his own by now) would agree to speaking about women in such a derogatory manner; and so publicly. We get that these guys are straight thuggin' and shit, but my friend tried that line "Damn, youse a sexy bitch" in a club when approaching a girl, and he got his bitch ass slapped dawg. Straight Up. Would it be hard to take off the gold chains for a second, just approach a girl and be like "Hey, I'm Akon. You are a beautiful woman." Biggie Smalls had the right idea when he said "Who they attractin' with that line, 'What's your name? What's your size? Soon as they buy that wine, Ima sneak up from behind. Ask you what your interests are" ...etc, etc. But hey, that being said, Akon's alive, Biggie's dead. Correlation? Who knows...

Granted, the hip hop world has gone too fast, too early; and I doubt people are ready to act like that towards other people outside the fantasy of a music video. I just think it's a little bit sad when men can't say anything meaningful at all without it being paired with a casual air that turns it into abit of a joke. Although I think it is a sad thought, I don't even know if I could be totally and truthfully blunt with emotions towards other guys I consider my friends.

That's just gay...bro.

Hubris

When I was in High School my favourite subject was Ancient History. Apart from the frustratingly long and pointless dispute against Margaret Atwood's (once again, teeth-grinding) perspective on the inclusion of women in history, the topic that came up the most was that of the Ancient Greek word, "Hubris". Hubris, as defined by Wikipedia, (get off my case, I know it's not a qualified source but I'm not exactly handing in this blog as my Thesis) means extreme haughtiness, pride or arrogance. Hubris often indicates a loss of contact with reality and an overestimation of one's own competence or capabilites.

I believe it was this very same vice that was the downfall of recurring blogging in the life of Jesse Lewis (yes, talking about hubris requires me to talk about myself in the third person). I admit, as this here blog became more popular I began to push the boundaries a little. Those of you reading in Australia may not understand, but I wrote a lot of work related and Pano related blogs (one of which was my absolute favourite that was only up for 2 hours and recieved no less than 13 emails on facebook, some from people I had only met once or twice at pano, congratulating me for writing it). Basically, I got cocky. Although officially my blog only has 12 followers, it has been read in over 20 countries including Romania, the United Arab Emirates and Malaysia (ok maybe someone might've been near malaysia on holidays but I can't explain Romania and UAE). I thought I was untouchable.

Until one day, I get called into my supervisors office, the stench of a freshly printed written warning still permeates the room. I know what is to come. Before any words are said she deals me a familiar looking page. It's a printed version of one of my own blogs, the very same blog that begins with an incriminating "Coming at you live from my desk at work, nursing a massive hangover". Busted, and blogging days...over.

Just like King Agamemnon of Argos (or Mycenae, depending on how you interpret your Greek mythology), it was Hubris that brought me to my knees and forced my hand and pen (or blue dagger of conservative retribution as I like to call it) to sign that record of discussion. I still remember those days now, slashing word after word into the work computer with no regard for anyone watching. Slandering bosses, HR reps and most of all, buff, club-thumping idiots (no offence, but offence). For this, I am sorry. I apologize to the millions...and millions of this blogs fans that have had to wait month after month for sub-par blogs as a result of public censorship. I was too focused on the oil enriched Sheikh that may be reading this blog from his super computer at the top of the Burj Al Arab Tower in Dubai to even realise that...maybe my bosses were reading this blog too.

All this aside, I hope the people that tuned in old time and long time to these here writings are still getting hooked up with the sweet, sweet nonsense that you all know and love (and it's an even nicer surprise when I found out people I haven't spoken to in ages, or didn't connect as amazingly with as others are reading this).

My Ego Is Made Up Of Blog Views

In a desperate bid to recruit more 'followers' to the curemyobscurity.blogspot.com bandwagon (if you could call it that), I realised that the main reason myself and most the other 'authors' of blogs on this human nature forsaken website is attention. Just like the 10 year old boy at the daycare that spent four hours hitting the carer in the head with a rubber Bob the builder hammer, the big spoon always seems to be in my hand, and it is always my turn to talk.

Not to seem narcissistic here. But how many of you who have blogs and are reading this, have anything better to blog about than your daily activities, or a funny thing that happened on the way to your favourite sweaty, muscle-cluster infested hole in the wall? I know this is an observation the average person doesn't want to point out about themselves, that you only blog for attention. Given that most the people that are boredom stricken enough to peek at these here writings are in other continents, I can be honest with myself behind my computer screen.

I think it's funny the amount of people I know that write blogs, and follow blogs only to be followed in return. People that re-read their own blogs and only read the blog's of others when you think there is a mention of you. Oh well, this shit is fun right. I say if it feels good do it, even if it is a big whoopen waste of time.

Oh, und people that correct grammer, spelling or punctuation on technology related writings...you are not intellectual, impressive or even "attentive to detail". Correcting TXT talk is obvious, not smart. I'm sorry scholars around the world, but I didn't realise that every time I wrote an e-mail, text or facebook message that I was handing in an essay to be marked. Stop it, it's nothing but pretentious.

Oh wow, this is self-confessed and a tad hate felt. Don't read into it or take offence. If I got you to take notice of me then I can go to bed feeling accomplished...that's the point of these things right?

I survived Valentine's Day...

It was just another regular day in Canada. Nothing special. The regular 8AM start, without shower or shave; the usual phone calls coming in one after another. The usual pot of packet noodles brewing over the stovetop. Chilling out on the couch was when it hit me. Another widely sensationalised and overly ambiguous advertisement directs my attention to the newest challenge 2011 has to offer...it's Valentine's Day tomorrow; and like the majority of males involved in relationships serious enough to consider this an actual day of meaning...I forgot.

The scramble to think up something not only passable as a date, but also meaningful; is a yearly ritual I do not look forward to. This year I managed to whisk up a romantic dinner, starring my lady friend's favourite meal; the preparation of which was not so romantic. A rush to the general store on hill, some less than glamorous ingredients and an extended lunch break helped to form what actually turned out to be quite a successful Valentine's Day (chiefly due to the fact that my lady friend, thankfully, wasn't that fussed about the whole day either and hence didn't really expect much anyway).

I'm not really writing this blog to complain or anything because as a blatant romantic, I actually enjoy days like this as (in real life) it gives me an opportunity to spoil the person that in my eyes definately deserves spoiling. I just find it funny this way in which men (myself included at times) 'survive' landmark days such as Valentines, Anniversaries and Birthdays rather than celebrate them. We pretend to celebrate when most the time we have only found out about the occassion at a day or less notice; and scramble to find something that passes as thoughtful or meaningful... most of the time by the skin on our fingertips.

The Long-Distance Patriot

I've discovered something about myself recently. Well not so much discovered as come to terms with. I know this sounds bad, considering Australia is a brilliant country. But around the point of Australia Day in Canada and in the midst of a lot of "Aussie Pride", I realised I am only patriotic when out of country. As in, I like to claim being Australian only when I'm in another country, but not so phased about it when in my own country. I think because patriotism when practised in your own country always seems to have the tinting of racism embedded inside of it. In the U.S, it's the redneck conservatives, in Australia, it's the douchebag bogans with their southern cross tattooes and mullets. I've heard that in places like Germany for instance, types of patriotism carried out in public are considered reminiscent of Nazi days; an imagine in which they understandably don't want to publicise and therefore don't really carry flags in the yard or any of that jazz.

I've frequently voiced my deeply seeded desire to become a 'citizen of the world'. I just think patriotism is over-rated. Everyone loves a team to barrack for, of course it makes things more interesting; and of course I'm proud of where I come from and I couldn't promote a country to visit more than Australia. I think it's just the idea of patriotism that annoys me. Seeing as most patriotism is basically anger-generated, for instance the picking of one side automatically comes with an intense hatred for another side. In my following of the Socceroo's at the 2006 Germany FIFA World Cup I found myself despising Italian's for at least another 6 months. Even in the recent 2010 World Cup I was slandering Italians, basically saying they deserved the shit form in the World Cup and teasing their country...only to be introduced minutes later to my new work colleague 'Fillipo' from Bologna, Italy...who also overheard the whole conversation (interesting day at work). I just realise that when I was in Australia, I really wasn't too excited about my own country. But I am, when around non-Australians, proud to be Australian.

In saying all of this, I am proud of Australia for the beautiful country that it is, and I am lucky to have come from there. But I am in no way ever going to expect special treatment, wonder and awe, or think I am better than anyone else just because I was popped out onto Australian soil.

Nope, my next tattoo won't be a boxing kangaroo, it won't be the Australian made food logo (lame?) and it definately won't be a southern cross.

Advancement's for the Socially Inept

Coming back at ya with a vengance. In the past month or months I haven't really had anything of value to write about. This continued until the other week, when a recent realisation of some personal flaws that I didn't think I had got me wondering about how technology has a huge impact on relationships in society today. This is going to make me sound like a veteran, but even if I take my pin-stripe high pants and suspenders down for a tick the thought is still there. I want to side note here saying that this has nothing to do with anything happening in my life at the moment, but was still just a thought about stuff in general. But seriously, kids these days with their facebook and their mobile phones and what have you, are fucking up relationships.

I'd like to go on record and point the finger at new technologies, for causing probably 40% of the 50% divorce rate. Where back in the day it would be easy to catch your husband or wife cheating, because noticeably, they would be gone physically; it is not so easy to catch a rat when it sits in the hole, texting or facebook messaging your cheese. Secondly, people were unfaithful a lot less before this shit. I'm not trying to say that people only didn't cheat because of the fact they might get caught, but I'm saying that it simply wasn't an option; because when you comitted, it was plainly because your partner is amazing and you don't want to know about another option as it doesn't matter.

Then comes along the mobile phone and facebook. Yeah they have all extended the capacity for communication (woopeedoo) and obviously I am sucked into these things too; but they have also extended the capacity for private communication and opened avenues for boundary pushing. I know friends of mine who have had girlfriends (HAD being the operative word, let that be a warning to you kids thinking you can pull it off) who have had 'cyber-girls-on-the-side'. In these circumstances, a simple facebook add after some harmless flirting on a night out turns into classic boundary pushing. I specifically remember warning my friend (who will not be named) against taking it further when he stated "It's just facebook man, it's not like I'm going to do anything". Weeks later, this friend of mine is newly single and understandably upset because he thinks he hasn't done anything; but he has, and call me a bad friend, but no sympathy from me. Regardless of this, emotionally cheating, in my books, affects relationships just as bad as physically cheating and rapidly erodes the fabric of a relationship just as much as the next mistress.

Admittedly, facebook and other social media has opened the market for complete retards and the socially inept to extend their introduction to girls and boys because of situations that require no actual physical introduction and therefore no direct rejection resulting in embarrassment. But this being said, I ask you, is this what we want? Meeting that special person is a fucking hard task, but if you do it the right way (the old fashioned way) then it is way worth it. Meeting potential partners through the internet is about as helpful as meeting partners at a club or bar. You're diving into murky water.

Cliche comment warning: The harder the journey the sweeter the reward. I am going to be doing long-distance later this year, and I am just incredibly lucky that I trust (and recieve trust and honesty) to the extent where this kind of thing isn't an issue for either side. In most situations though, facebook and texting are the kind of things that send a relationship over the proverbial edge; as in send a person crazy wondering about a simple coded comment or photo. I love the fact that the person I am with now I didn't meet through facebook and in fact only recieved my first text months into the relationship. I love the fact I was nervous as hell the first night we kissed and it took a whole lot of courage to even approach her on the night; courage that wouldn't have been in the equation had my introduction been typed instead of spoken. I love the fact that there is not much (apart from the obvious language barrier) that facebook can tell us that we don't already know about each other, only because facebook plays the most minimal part (and should always). I also love the fact that I have no interest in romantic warfare whether it be physical, emotional or technological, and you should too!

Get some integrity people, and don't come crying to me when you come home to discover you're no longer "in a relationship" when your girlfriend (who you coincidentally met on facebook) removes status instead of actually telling you.

Blogging is for Losers

Ok, so after what I deem a really long hiatus (seeing as I was blogging like thrice a day before) I've come to the conclusion that blogging might be the "cool cause it's nerdy" thing to do. I mean I seemed to have had a phase of blogging not unlike my recurring "I'm not too old to start up my pokemon card collection again", phases; where I am semi-interested for a week or two and think it's gonna be the next thing I dedicate my life to acheiving, before it fades away a week ater.

Either that or they banned this site at work and I don't have the time or patience to be frequently blogging about shit that don't matter when I'm home. I've got pizzas to cook and drinking games to play. But for the time being, have a maury christmas everyone! :)

Platinum J.D.L

Today's blog comes live from my desk at work; with an unnecessarily intense hangover and zero inspiration as to pointless or unintersting topics to make interesting points about. So it got me thinking, maybe it's time to recap. I was just reading a blog where the author had 2010 listed as a "dislike". It seems crazy to me that everybody is experiencing such different lives all at once; where 2010 has been the best year of my life but for a lot of others it has been very sub-par.

As much as I'd like to continue on with an inspirational piece about butterfly effects or how backpackers are riding llama's through Peru while you're riding the stairs to the second floor on a bean bag; it turns out I am very unintersted in other peoples lives. So let us focus on me. Last night was housewarming party for our new three level house at Aurora. It's hard to complain when you live literally three metres from a ski run and chair lift on a mountain you get to snowboard for free, but the stupid neighbours with their stupid kids did (jokes about the stupid part). The start of 2010 had good vibes; not unlike the way you can almost taste bakery food with your nose. You just know it's gonna taste better than it smells.

Now guys, I know my blog's are very mundane and pointless, so it makes it seem like I have nothing better to do or have a lot of anger or frustration built up inside of me; but this couldn't be further from the truth. Truth is, I'm not too sure if it was 2010 that has made 2010 so good. Do you compliment a roast chicken on how it tastes? No. You thank the chef and dig in. The main reason why 2010 has been a platinum year, in a word, me. I don't think I've ever been so content with myself as I have been this year, and I know that 2011 will just continue to be epic because it's not just about what has happened in the year, but moreso about my attitude. My zen-like awesomeness and subsequent narcissism doesn't look to be fading anytime soon for any reason.

The best part about this year is that it has come with all the same ups and downs that every other year has produced. All the classics, girl troubles, financial troubles, unlocking new guitar hero songs, travel, eating biscuits, parties, irrational decisions to get a piercings and such, drinking, work, a rapid decline in personal health and physical fitness, bills, McDonald's, you name it. But I haven't seen any negatives at all; I am quite comfortable just letting shit go. A straight up, stellar year. Also, there were a few ridiculous food metaphors in here. Good times.

I Don't Have An Accent

I figured the last few posts we're getting too emotive and this blog needs a bit more braun. So I present to you...a hate filled rant.

When I was in Huntington Beach, California a month or two back, I was ranting to B-Rod and Dad whilst crossing the zebra stripes and this girl stops super suddenly, right in front of me, turns and says "Sorry, but I just love your accent". I was pleasantly surprised by her frank(stallone)ness and replied with, "Thanks, I like your accent too". She flipped and said (in the traditional contorted American accent) "Uh, thanks but I don't have an accent". With a scowl on her face and a look in her eyes that I haven't seen since the janitor was foiled by Scooby and the gang, she left my life; maybe forever.

The amount of times I have heard this same phrase since I came to North America is getting ridiculous. I want to go on record and say that the only people that actually don't have accents are people that don't speak; ever. Even when you are in a country where everybody sounds the same, it just means that everyone has accents. On another note; accents are cool. I was legitimately upset over the thought that I would end up with a girl that has an Australian accent. I also miss hearing over the radio at work, "Hampus to Handsome Yesse", in the most hilarious Swedish accent imaginable.

Also, French-Canada; you're not France. Just because you speak the language doesn't automatically make you part of the country. I know a little bit of Swedish but I don't go around telling people I'm Australian-Swedish; because that would make me a pretentious douche. Did you know that Quebec actually went through a vote a while back to try and make themselves their own country. What a joke. Side note; French people can't stand French-Canadians. I think this is the main point, doesn't matter if you want to be France because France doesn't want you. You can copy it all you want but you can't be in the club mate. I'm going to take off my hat of diplomacy and throw this out there; I think France should sue Quebec for country copyright.

où le boeuf?

Gobstoppers V. Jawbreakers

The ultimate candy when I was a youngster had nothing to do with taste, but was popular on the basis of longevity. Gobstoppers were fairly priced sweets that outlasted all others ten fold; although their taste was pretty average if you ask me. No, today's ramblings aint about the delicious and long lasting experience of a great product like Wonka's Gobstoppers and no, "Cure My Obscurity" hasn't recently been sponsored by Wonka Candy Inc. (although they make wonderfully fun and delicious lollies). I'm wondering how Willie managed to market the human instict to want to hold onto experience?

I can't actually decide which is better. Jawbreakers are bigger and definately last longer as a singular candy, sometimes for days. Gobstoppers are brief compared to a jawbreaker; but there are many in a packet. Is it better to enjoy short bursts of experience knowing that there are many more to come, or is it enough to let the glory of taste stay over a longer period of time, but as a single experience?

I just think that everyone has this instinct to want to hold onto something good. Working on your gobstoppers while drunk is always a big mistake. You might miss out on a great flavour because of a blindspot in memory. You might swallow it prematurely and choke. You may even not realise that one packet is still going, and open another accidentally (this kind of stopper related fault has never befallen me, but it does happen). I'm working on a jawbreaker at the moment, and it bugs me that at some point it might have to end. The reality is, there is no candy that lasts forever; but if there was I would chuck the dentist on speed dial in two winks of a coal miners eye.

Your jawbreaker will chop and change colour and taste as you keep sucking away; there's a billion different flavours to either enjoy or hate, but that's the most epic part. Is there a metaphor? Read into it whichever way you want; I mean, most of the time, you end up with a sore face, staring at an empty packet.

Alphabet Soup

I wrote a blog a couple of weeks back. I believe it was one of the debut blogs on 'Cure My Obscurity', about circumstantially hot girls at Panorama and a new girl that all the boys were talking about; also about how lame the new girl thing is. Two/Three weeks later, new girl is not new girl anymore. She's an old mate. Also known as my girlfriend. Mmm, God eating my words tastes good, I'll have seconds please. In retrospect it was a rash decision to write a blog about a person I hadn't met yet although I am still very anti-new girl hype. I have continuously, on this blog, stated that I enjoy writing blogs about topics in which I have no knowledge about or interest in gaining further knowledge of, and will not stop here.

I just always seem to eat my own words. When I was in Hollywood I was stopped by an interviewer for the George Lopez Tonight show. They were filming for a sketch called "Your darkest secrets" and asked me to say something for the camera. When they asked me what I did back home, I panicked (don't know why, just wanted to impress the mighty nation of the united states of America) and said Public Relations. Now, I ended up tripping somewhere along the explanation and although they didn't say anything, it was obvious that no, I do not have any practical P.R experience whatsoever. I'm just lucky that George Lopez is only the number three highest paid comedian in U.S.A...a country which I'm assuming, because I've never heard of it before, is very small and insignificant. So I'm not too phased about embarrassing myself in front of the show's probably miniscule audience reach.

The fact of the matter is that we all do it, and we all do it a lot. It's time for people to sit down, tuck in your bib and gobble up that alphabet soup proudly. To be honest, I don't know where this blog is going and it definately doesn't offer any insight to anything important; I've just got a beef with people that try to scapegoat the consequences of their verbal double fault's onto others. It's like when my housemate Joey and Myself ordered a Blacklight online for our "Kings of Neon" party (December 1st, Monument Common Room, 8:30pm), and the e-mail doesn't come through. We rang up the guy and he (very rudely) stated that he had not produced any fault whatsoever and that it was our mistake. I asked him to repeat the e-mail address he sent our confirmation to and he reads back "Triple M...". It's then that I stop him and say, "Nah mate, It's four M's". He snaps back with, "Uh, Yeah! That's what i said; It's definately something wrong by you, I can't help you". Well excuse me, wise ass blacklight.com guy, but I didn't realise that you have no time for the one customer you have...ever. Here I was naively assuming that you wouldn't be offloading UV blacklights too rapidly but apparently the population of witch doctors and stay-at-home ravers in America are sky rocketing at the moment.

I'm getting off topic...thankfully.

By The Power Vested In Facebook, I Now Pronounce You...

I've recently gotten myself into a relationship and the funniest thing was said to me the other day. I'm in the break room, and a work mate of mine asks me, "So it's official?". I'm like, "Yep". He replies, "Yes, but is it facebook official?"


As funny as this sounded to me at the time, I honestly thought to myself, I don't know if it is. Just wondering how something can be official, but not Facebook official. Where facebook is the final frontier concerning relationship confidence, and openess to friends. Many people would say "Well I know I have a girlfriend, I don't know why it's important for all the people on facebook to know". But it's still a tricky subject. When the question comes up (and it will) as to why it's not official on facebook, if you use this answer it just looks like you want to hide her away or am ashamed of her. Whether you are or not, noone will believe you.


It's like you have to go through a second awkward step into defining the relationships. Whether you do or you don't, noone wants to be the first person to admit that yeah I want you to be my girlfriend/boyfriend. Even after you've made it official in this way, you have to go through the exact same embarrasing process of being the first person to request it on facebook. According to facebook I don't have a girlfriend, but according to my parents I also don't. So knowing this, maybe facebook is that brave talk you have to have with the people that already make up your life, concerning the person that will from now on be as big, if not bigger part of it.


My parents are married. But Dad doesn't have facebook. I'm worried that this makes them unofficial and coincidentally makes me a bastard child. As facebook grows not only in popularity, but also climbs up the heirarchy of importance in everyones lives, we could be seeing the disintegration of religious procedures within marriage. A world where you can tie the knot at the click of a button and it would not just be official, but "Facebook official", a term seemingly held in higher esteem within pop culture.


Fuck, No.

Unofficial Invites

So the winter season begins again (kind of) and trips are being organised. We've got a big crew of people heading out for some good times in the snow this weekend. Some cordially invited, some not so much. But for the sake of good times you don't really want to outcast people, right? Most of the time you don't intend to not invite someone, you might just forget.

I recieved a text message the other night from a guy that basically said, "Mate, heard you're going snowboarding on the weekend. I'm in". Not that I didn't want this guy to come, but it came to me as a bit of a semi-amusing shock. The worst thing is, that guy always ends up outcasting himself through the unofficial invite anyway. It's the guy that tries to join in on all the "in" jokes and just ends up sounding or looking way too keen.

Back in high school me and a bunch of friends invited a stupid (appealing to dudes only) game called 'Rape'. Sounds terrible, I know. The game was basically, in a public place, one participant would yell 'Rape' and attempt to wrestle the other guy into a provacative position. The other person, when provoked, wrestles back until one person is declared the victor at 'rape'. We played this a bunch of times in shopping centres, movie theatres and even in the middle of saturday football games. Two of my friends in particular, played this game in the middle of class at college a few times, much to the amusement of the other classmates. Outside of class, there was one guy who tried to fit in with this game and continuously came up to my friends yelling 'rape' loudly in the hallways and then mildly attacking them with moves like poking, noggieing, or a dece' chinese burn. This kid was lame, and solidified this status through self-appointed inclusion into such 'in' games; or unofficial invites.

Everyone would like to be included and everyone wants to be popular whether they admitt it or not. We've all had a new boyfriend or girlfriend before, and we know how annoying it is to stand there when you first meet their friends and have no input into all the 'in' talk and gossip that goes on. Word of advice guys; don't assume automatically that you are welcome to join in on things just because people may have talked about it out loud around you. It would probably be less lame to just create your own day out at the same location, invite like one or two people, and then just "happen" to meet the other group out there and say it would convenient to hang out.

Actually, scratch that. That's probably worse...

Manpower Gone Wrong: Who Called Shirts Off?

What is this trend amongst guys to hang out in public as a group with shirts off? It began at festivals I think, and fair enough, it's a little bit hot out there and the girls are doing it too so shirts off sort of qualifies as a correct call. But I was at a house party (an 18th, mind) a short while before I came to Canada a year ago and was witness to about four older guys at the party undressing their top half and getting onto the D-Floor. Funnily enough, not only did the fully clothed section of men disperese from the floor, but so did all the girls. It ended up just being four guys with no shirts dancing in close proximity to each other, swinging their shirts around. It's like they expect us to be surprised or pleased and react with something along the lines of "Mate, you need to see a vet...cause those pythons are SICK!".

Nope; just general embarrasment is felt for them blended in with a smidgen of disgust. I mean, I'm used to seeing it around sometimes, and this general incidence wasn't the big eye opener to the trend of homo-eroticism that is going mainstream among what most bloody blokes believe to be "real men". I'm on Facebook earlier and a few profile pics pop up in the news feed sporting some old mates from school; shirts off in the pic. Now that's just wierd. The party was one thing, and I can understand; you're a little bit drunk, you don't actually intend to be around other guys, maybe you were under the impression that the chicks would love it. But these dudes actually called shirts off in the privacy of their own home and took what can only be described as 'greek adonis' style pics together and then uploaded them onto facebook.

The feel of someone elses skin against yours is a pretty intimate thing to experience. I don't care how buff you are. Either join the WWE where that kind of thing is standard (and hell, you get the delightful experience of oiling yourself up in public too), or keep it to yourself.

It's just wierd, and as the last blog has shown; you're on your way to table nine.

The Mutants at Table Nine

You know in teen movies, there's always a scene where they introduce the new kid to basically the whole school at once? It's usually in a cafeteria setting whereas the kid who is relatively neutral, both in appearance and assumed popularity, ventures from table to table pointing out a different genre of teen in each sitting. Most commonly there is your jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, skateboarders, goths or punks, the religious group and maybe some sort of wannabe stereotype group. But regardless of what other sub-cieties are present in the cafeteria at the time of introduction, there's always that ninth table. Table nine is the last and final table, the "do not engage", group, consisting mostly of mutants and just straight up unfortunate people.

My friend Wayde introduced me to this expression and it has reared it's ambiguously offensive head frequently within my vocabulary ever since. In normal life, the term is basically used to describe a bunch of straight-up wierdos. The mutants at table nine. Example: This group is doing something in your proximity that they think is hilarious but is just lame and annoys the fuck out of you. You exhude out loud, "Fuckin Table Nine".

Let's be honest. It does sound a bit harsh. But I wanted to bring this expression out into the public eye because I believe that it is a happy medium. Unless you are the ONE follower of this blog than you most problably don't know what table nine is and therefore will not be offended if someone came up to you and said "Hey T9, What's up?". The mutants at table nine, yeah they are annoying as fuck, but they have feelings too; and they're the type of people who don't really mean to be lame, so you end up feeling terrible for telling them off. So be happy that we are from now on calling you "Table Nine"...

...cause we could just call you wierdo's.

Every Road

Everyone seems to think the term 'Yuppie' died out in the eighties along with the whole wall street thing. I'd like to go on record and say that I believe there is a new type of yuppie out there in the naughties. I'm talking your Apple Mac sporting, I-Phone touch having, H & M/Country Road wearing yuppies. It seems to me that video production, journalism and anything media, music or fashion based is the new 'mergers & acquisitions'. Loosely related to the 'Metro-sexual' trend popularised by those delightful queer-eye blokes. They wear cardigans in the middle of summer and own ray-ban wayfarer framed regular glasses even though they have no eye problems whatsoever. Not that there's anything wrong with that, believe me; I'm quite the fan. Although I don't own anything made by 'Apple', the yuppie lifestyle does cause some disturbances in freestyle jesse's thought path.


So sorry to put my 'followers' (and I say that loosely) into some serious mood lighting but I'm finding it hard to blog about topics that don't effectively squeeze out the leftover juice from my mind grapes. Usually 'Cure My Obscurity' is the place to find blogs on all things un-blog-worthy, yet today there is way too much going on to stick to my standard template.


It's your classic case of life problems as a whole. I wouldn't use 'problem' to the strictest sense of the word though because actually there is no problem, just lots of confusion. I just got to thinking about paths and futures. It is the third time in one year that my working holiday in Canada is 'coming to an end' in a few months and already I'm trying to find ways to avoid this abrupt conclusion. So many things that can hinder future Jesse's functionality in the modern day yuppie society. I don't know what it is but I feel much more comfortable having $30 in my account and having no food in the fridge after a day of free snowboarding than having $10,000, sitting at home all day blogging (no offense).


University, jobs, girls, money and last but certainly not least, popularity. I mean, I'm going to have to go home eventually, and I'm wondering how many friendships I may have squandered by being over here and not keeping sufficiently in touch with people. Money isn't an issue because I love being poor and am thinking of using this lack of funds as the basis of my 'decision' to stay (not affording a ticket home). University is the biggest one. I don't know if I can start again, I'm not getting old, but getting older. Public Relations is a young persons game, all sorts of new 18 year old girls scabbing up jobs in the industry at the bat of an eyelid. Girls; maybe. You can't really maintain relationships over here and going home to meet someone definately should be an issue. But it's one I am not too concerned with. Plus, I'm starting to hate the idea of dating a girl that has an Australian accent. But as hard as it is to maintain a relationship here, I've never been one to give up without trying; nothing specific, just if the chance were to arise it would be another good excuse to fuck up real life.


Although these issues seem pretty personal or whatever, it is something that many travellers (and some non-travellers) ask themselves. When (if ever) is it alright to fuck up your future? Most the people I know that have stayed overseas after a years leave of absence find themselves in the same pickle. It's where a working holiday becomes a real life. Yeah, I work at a ski resort in Canada; but I've been here a year now. I have a real house, a real car, real friends which I regard as close as family, a solid job, hobbies and an intensely fun lifestyle (snowboarding by day, maggot by night). I don't own an I-Phone or an Apple Mac, but I treasure the idea that I have no use for them.

Could this be a real life?

Eureka!

Finally something of interest. Seriously you guys. I have been away on a very long hiatus from Australia and have recently been surprised by the news that good friends of mine, whom I toured with a few times, have formed a new band that are really quite excellent. "Gold Fields" is the name and hot damn they are good.

I was on facebook chat to the guitarist last night catching up, thinking 'oh yeah band sounds good, give it a year and they'll be going well'. Wrong. Don't even wait a year, these guys are sky rocketing up the standards not only in musical awesomeness but also fandom at the fastest rate imaginable. I couldn't have wished it to happen to better dudes. In just under a year these guys have produced a very high quality demo with some amazing tracks as well as their first single "Treehouse" which has been played on Triple J due to popular request. But aside from this, their first tour just happens to be in the UK. Epic stuff boys and can't wait to somehow grab the tracks of itunes as soon as possible. I feel about this band the same way Tokyo feels about Dance, Dance Revolution.

I highly recommend everyone goes out and listens and or downloads/votes the single "Treehouse" off Triple J, Unearthed. (http://www.triplejunearthed.com/artists/view.aspx?artistid=40494)

Listen http://goldfields.bandcamp.com/