Show me the Money!

Hey dudes and dudettes, I just got paid! Yep, money, paper, paid son!

Alright, enough with my gangsta rap, yo! I got ta keep this thing nice and real, ya dig.

Ahem, as I was saying, I got paid, finally. Real income, after so many days of searching and sorting through the job ads and applications of unfathomable complexity. Why companies choose to make their job applications so crazy hard to complete, I'll never know. It's as if they don't want people applying for their positions. Or maybe, it's to whittle down the applicants into the more serious ones. Dunno, and don't really care, because at least I'm on the right track.

I'm not sure if you're gone through this sort of thing before, but when applying for jobs, after the first 100, you begin to get a bit disillusioned. I figure I've put out about 120 resumes so far, with little success. But that's okay, because the feeling you get when you finally get some results is worth more than anything. I mean, getting the detailing job was the first step. Then it was getting paid. Finally there was a gentleman I met at a festival I went to after I was paid this past Friday. Gil his name was, working one of the food stands at this festival. He was selling mini dutch pancakes and I tell ya, damn good! In any case, we got to talking, and he offered me a job working the festivals with his company. I still don't know exactly where I'll be, or what's going on, but bloody hell, I'm going to give him a call today just like he asked. Never look a gift horse in the mouth eh?

Speaking of this festival, it was quite neat. A little open-air grassy area down by the harbor front in Manly. The whole place was lit up with lights, the kind you would see at a garden party, nothing really fancy at all. There were live performers playing, two groups of which I had the chance to take in. One was a trio of a drummer, guitarist, and singer. They performed jazzy style songs, kinda like Diana Krall except a little more mainstream. The singer, now her voice was really good. Kinda funny too how different people can look when they take their glasses off as well. She put her glasses on after the show, and I scarcely recognized her, except for the dress she was wearing and that she was damn hot. Ha ha ha. But yeah, the other crew was like a modern Simon and Garfunkel. Both guys sang, one played guitar, and the other only harmonica. But boy could this dude wail on that harmonica. He made that thing dance, I tell you. All the food stalls were quite something else as well. There was everything from the mini Dutch pancakes, to Gozlemes, French crepes, Dimsum, Paella, Mexican food, Oktoberfest Bratwurst, and other various Asian foods. It seems to me, that Asian food is where its at around Australia. Everywhere I go is Asian food, Mexican, and other styles of food from all over the world. It's actually more difficult than I thought to find traditional Australian food fare. Meat pies are good though...mmmmmm. Nice and hearty, just like we would have made. Proper on ya!

Ya know how I mentioned the ABC (Another Bloody Castle) syndrome back when I visited Scotland? Well, now I have a new disease from Australia, it's called TPS (Triple Plate Service Syndrome). I swear, I'm not cut out to work the hospitality industry in Australia, given that you have to be able to carry three plates. And it's not just the three plates, it's how precicely they need to be carried. They can't be pressed to the body in any way, and you pretty much have to be able to move your arms around like a bird and not have the plates drop off or tilt even a fraction of a degree. Bah, I say, there's more to service than carrying plates. Trust me, I've seen a lot of the servers here and aside from the control over the plates they have, there's no actual good points to their service. They don't smile, don't laugh, and don't look like they even care about the service. Bah, foolish people. Well, that's that.

Funny point though, grocery store clerks here get paid more than restaurateurs. Figure that one out, eh?

Hostels are funny places too. What happens there, you could definitely do another reality TV show about. I mean, on one floor alone, someone was assaulted, there were people bleeding, and then there's projectile vomiting all over their own gear. Foolish travelers. Ya know, as an aside, I think the British, as a generalization, are the worst travelers ever. I know this doesn't go for all, because I've met some good travelers from Britain as well, but they're rare. They're noisy, uncouth, filthy, and of course bad drunks. They all drink this boxed wine, 'goon' they call it, because of how cheap it is. Oh, I think I can throw a few Germans in there as well, since I've had some dealings with them as well. My next step is to find a spot of my own to stay in. I hope that happens soon, as I'm gonna go insane otherwise. He he he, not that I'm not already completely gone off the deep end. :P

Alright, I think that will cover most of what I had to say this time. Next time I might talk about the spiders that hide in cars. Until then, catcha later,

Neal