Overlooked is right

anonymum — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 11:19:21 +0000

I’m stunned, shocked, horrified.
You name it, that’s where my head is.
Any system that can let this happen is in some serious trouble, as are any people within that system.
For an idea of what I’m on about, read this.
The understatement of the year goes to NSW Minister for Community Services Linda Burney who said this.
“…the girl’s case had been overlooked by a “stretched” department”
“It is true, in my view, that DoCS should have intervened more strenuously than what they did,” Ms Burney
Do ya think Lindy????
This is the brains trust running a department to protect children and the community??
God help us all.

All roads led to Boston, with a speed hump along the way

anonymum — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 09:44:17 +0000

Once on the plane to Boston, we decided to try and sleep.
Fat chance!
I was wide awake and jumping out of my skin, as I had been for some days before we left, on the plane to the states and the whole time we’d been in LA.
The chances of me being able to sleep were slim.
Mark on the other hand could sleep through a nuclear holocaust, and pretty much slept all the way.
I managed about half an hour, but the rest of the 6 hour flight {that seemed like 26 hours BTW!} was spent thinking about what, or more the point, who awaited us in Boston.
More on this shortly….
Once we eventually landed at Logan airport {quite late I might add} disembarking was reasonably quick, yet still not quick enough for me!
I wanted off, I wanted our luggage, and I wanted in the car Michael had booked to take us to his place, and I wanted it R.I.G.H.T N.O.W!!!!
I was a woman on a mission!!
Suitcases and bags were reasonably prompt.
Annie got hers, we got ours, and the only thing we were waiting on was the didg as it had to come though special luggage.
I went around to the collection area just as the guy was closing the roller door after putting everything out where it could be collected.
“Hang on” says I, quite innocently, “Ours is missing”
“What was it” he says.
“A cylinder about 4ft long, it has a didg in it”
“A what???”
“An indigenous Australian musical instrument. It’s not here”
“I’m sure I got everything off the plane, let me go check”
{small amount of nerves are creeping in at this point}
Waiting, waiting, waiting…
Eventually, he’s back.
“Sorry ma’am, there’s nothing left on the plane. That’s it. You sure you bought it with you?”
Well no, fuck knuckle, because of course, I’m a dick wad who has no fucking idea what she did and didn’t bring 10,000 miles!!!!
As I shot him a withering look, I headed to the customer service office, telling Mark and Annie what the problem was as I went past.
Mark got “that” look on his face, and decided to leave it to me.
Wise move I thought.
Enter one condescending, patronising airline employee.
Whislt I’m in there explaining the situation, Annie has rung Michael and let him know we were in Boston, but there was a small problem.
{~m did a post about it here, to get his perspective}
I explained the problem to the woman in the office, and at this point, I was quite calm.
Her reaction was indifferent to say the least.
She had the whole “I really don’t want to be here, and really don’t give a shit about your luggage, but I’ll do what I have to in order to shut you up” look on her face.
Even after explaining the importance of this luggage to her, the fact this really is irreplaceable, and I’m quite distressed by it’s absence {all quite calmly} her reaction, as I said, was quite indifferent.
“Ma’am, I understand your concern, but it’s really not THAT big a deal. This happens all the time….” in that condescending, patronising tone that seems to be par for course with any type of airline employee.
Mistake, lady.
Big mistake!
“Well no, I don’t think you do understand, and I don’t really like your “I don’t give a damn” attitude. If you put a million of these instruments side by side, no 2 would be the same. It is U.N.I.Q.U.E. Do you understand the word unique? Never mind that we had it custom made, don’t even mind the monetary value, it’s fucking unique!! Do you get that??? It C.A.N.N.O.T be replaced. Not E.V.E.R! Now would you please explain to me the process you’re going to follow to find my damned luggage, and how long you think it will take, or even if you have any idea of how freaking important this thing is now????”
This as I’m starting towards the desk to rip this woman’s head off and shit down her throat.
I’m not calm anymore…..
Enter Annie.
She stepped between me and the desk {read the cow I was going to murder} and bought a level of calm to the situation that I simply wasn’t capable of at that time.
In what seemed double quick time, our details had been given, phone numbers taken, descriptions written down, and we were assured that once it was located, we would be notified, and it would be delivered by courier to the house down the Cape.
By this time, I’m in tears, Mark is pissed because I’m upset, and a driver is still waiting patiently out the front to take us to Michael and Pamela’s.
I guess having been up for over 24 hours and the anticipation wasn’t helping my cause.
Nor was the fact that if they had lost anything else, it wouldn’t really have been that bad.
But not the didg.
It was THE one thing we could never replace.
Eventually we’re in the car and headed to the burbs.
I’m still in tears, close to inconsolable, Mark is telling me it’s going to be fine and Annie is trying to bring some semblance of normality to what is, a rather tense situation {to say the least}
The driver is telling us all about Boston, pointing out landmarks, giving us some history, Annie is talking to him, and things are starting to settle down a little.
After what seemed like hours, and many windy roads, the car stopped outside a quaint little house.
We’d been waiting 15 months for this remember.
For different reasons, once again a small amount of nerves were creeping in here.
The first time face to face with someone is always nerve wracking, no matter how well you get along with them.
I’ll struggle to describe the emotions that ran through me as I stepped out of the car, so I’m not even going to attempt that one.
Pamela.
Not only a gorgeous woman, but the most amazing person you could wish to imagine.
Her patience in relation to mine and Michael’s friendship will never cease to amaze me.
Cannot begin to put into words how good it was to finally meet her.
I’m thinking she was just as happy to see me though, because she came close to fracturing a rib hugging me!
Hannah.
I was told she would be the welcome wagon, and she was.
What a fabulous kid she is! Turned out to be quite the little surprise package in more ways than one!
Finally, Michael.
As I said, we’d been waiting for this for 15 months, and what did I do you ask?
Well hell, I burst into tears like a 2 year old of course!!!
I hung onto him like someone possessed and sooked all over his shirt {I think I managed to avoid snotting on his shirt though}
What else could I do??
Watching Michael come face to face with Annie was quite something too.
These 2 have been friends for close to 10 years and never met.
How could this meeting in suburban Boston be anything less than special in more ways than one?
Mark was as emotional and teary as the rest of us were, and given I spend almost as much time talking to Michael as I do to him, his patience too has been nothing less than remarkable, for which I thank him more than I can ever say.
Once we settled down it was inside to meet Sarah and Jenna who are both as gorgeous as their mother, and just as welcoming.
I have no idea how our luggage got inside, but it did, and apparently Mark tipped the driver {he deserved it after waiting as long as he did}
Damned if I saw either of these things happen.
A shower and clean clothes were the first order of the day.
I was heartily sick of the ones I had on let me tell you.
Above the window in the kitchen are blocks with letters on them.
Someone had fashioned them into the following:
Welcome Mark, Moe, Annie
Next to those words was just one other word.
Australia.
It was as close to coming home as a person could ask for, and it felt like home too.
The next chapter in our little adventure will see us at the Cape eating some wonderful seafood, drinking lots of bourbon, getting some much needed sleep, and the one thing many have been waiting for, I know.
The introduction of that hunk of spunk we all know and love…Evyl!!
Stay tuned folks, we’re just getting warmed up.
Trust me!

Achmed the terrorist

anonymum — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 23:23:38 +0000

That’s who I look like in my passport photo!

FFS, how do they do it?

I hate having my photo taken at the best of times, and maybe that comes through, who knows, but it seems to me every time a passport pic gets done, it’s always THE worst pic you ever saw.

Unless it’s a drivers license, because they’re just as bad.

Do they trawl the community for the most inept person they can find, or maybe it’s part of the key selection criteria for the job??

I can see the ad now.

WANTED

THE most useless photographer ever born, to take passport and license photos.
Must have the eye of a blind man for focusing and be able to make people look as if they belong behind bars.
No experience required, however good timing would be an advantage, because it is essential to ensure a person is blinking as the photo is taken.
Debating skills could also be useful in order to argue with the subject when they demand another pic be taken, as we are not allowed to do this.
Determination would be advantagous in this area.

It’s a photo. I have an 8 year old granddaughter that could do better than some of these fucking morons.

How badly do I want to take that camera and shove it up this bloke’s arse, you ask??

VERY BADLY!!!

Before anyone asks, NO, I will NOT be posting the pic.

Those we’re going to see may, just MAY, see it once we’re there, but other than that, only customs will have the {dubious} pleasure.

OrganiSed Chaos » Incompetence

Overlooked is right

All roads led to Boston, with a speed hump along the way

Achmed the terrorist