As a previous attempt to locate a non-Australia Post, non-newsagency Western Union agent was hard fought, it was thrown to checking on the actual addresses. One popping up with a mark of reasonable proximity was the American Express Exchange on George and Hunter streets. This cross street fact was had only after the factored transaction and sighted on the way coming back from crossing the road looking for a number missing from the streets.
With the carbon paper copy of the Send Money form well dudded into a blank slate it should have been some sort of warning sign, an indication, to just up and run out of the office, stationed by two people, a trainee and her over-the-shoulder-breathing manager.
There were no other people in the queue and finding a way from one side of the metal barrier to the other wasn't made any easier by the lack of an arrow signing direction.
Taking over ten minutes at the teller (two at the counter filling in the form), the ordeal was a shocking blow to the budget, a twenty dollar ($AUD20) "processing fee" to send a mere six dollars ($AUD8.75) in US currency leaving the folded notes broken, empty and facing the need to scrounge for enough notes to exist another week.
Fair warning was given though, "There's a processing fee involved for sending, are you sure about this?"
Wednesday, 29 September 2004
Cake made its presence felt in the week rounding off the third last week of the contract. Celebrating birthdays of three of the analysts, a big passion fruit was hauled out for the gathered crew of the SAP documentation. Counting the people around with plates and looking at the slice had, it was a marvel to note the actual chunk being forked into the mouth. A tasty paste of icing on a sponge, it was later backed up with a now seemingly limp lamington finger pulled from the desk drawer just asking to be had along with the day's cake of passion fruit as well as the breakfast slice had in the revolt of discovering that, yet again, a GM modified doughnut was swallowed on the Monday.
Saturday, 25 September 2004
Racing to catch up on Amazing Spider-Man was a thrilling beat of finally glancing at some covers that in a way captured a snapshot of events in the pages within each issue. Waiting for the next, #512, to come in a week has reignited the crave for the monthly as Sins Past sneaks home what could be an extremely bad tasting or extremely well thought out play in the mythos. A black clad, expertly agile and damningly combative duo take on Spidey like the two from the vampire nation in Blade II in that scene in front of the floodlights. Gwen Stacy stays dead, but makes an appearance in flashbacks skirting a messy and retching prospect of a resurrection from the grave. (Mike Deadato, Jr. seems to be dropping in a lot of references to the Witches miniseries that's been hiding somewhere on the shelves at the Comic Shop.)
The previous arc, The Book of Ezekiel (#506-508), closed out the rounded and vague poster images for the series along with the secret of the source of Ezekiel's powers, similar in many aspects to the powers beheld by Spidey. Having to repay the gift of power in some way, Ezekiel's life choices leading up to the final moments provide a great statement on the choices given in life and what people should do if given a chance to make a change in other people's lives. Wait too long, and tomorrow may never come.
Having not read The Amazing Spider-Man for so long, coming back hasn't felt this good. There is an excited anticipation on what the events will reveal in the coming issues. Hopefully, another six month lag won't happen until the end of this current arc.
Friday, 24 September 2004
Fire faked, an emergency phone and a seriously profane email wrapped up the first week in the extended contract.
Knowing not the limits of the email system at the organisation, a casually fired string of cuss and swear words to a friend at North Sydney bounced and was taken across to the IT Services section. Instances were found to be littered throughout the entirety and pointed out as such. The person reading was heard to chuckle for a bit talking to a colleague on the instance of the first beaker of the filter. There's always a first and the expected "report" never eventuated. At least not in this week.
Standing in the elevator, the blind pressing of the button for the seventh floor rang out a strange sound. Looking closer to what the finger was animatedly pressing behind the back revealed it to be for the emergency phone. Here on the ground floor, doors wide open and with no problem at hand save for the guy keeping the doors open on fits. The other three in the lift said nothing.
Rounding out the week was a fire drill. Everybody expected it and the floors were staggered in their runs. Hard hats of red and a few yellows led the way in a seriously unreal play out situation. Floor by floor they were emptied. Had this happened for real, there would be no way for such casual taking of the stair wells. A couple of the older guys in IT were reprimanded by their manager for taking an early morning lunch waiting downstairs for the floor. Others were talking about using the lifts. Outside the fear run.
Saturday, 18 September 2004
Smacking realisation that the lunchtime parade in the city was one with Olympians was mildly as disturbing as the churnings going on. Throwing around the ticker tape on the city street above at Town Hall, the underground rail station was used to forgetfully subvert the action in a chance to see what happenings were happening on the new release shelf of the Kino store. Gold plating on Neil Gaiman's Sandman Endless Nights was a lock as well as spotting Tales of Human Waste, the final Transmetropolitan collection.
For nothing more than a spectacle, missing out on the parade made looking at the day a chasm of wait for the night time action of the theatre.
Running black through the streets of Chippendale gathering a healthy forehead of sweat made up for time waiting at Wynyard for Debbie Does Dallas, the musical to start the show. Based on the porno flick of the same name, minus "the musical" part, it was a fun, smart and charming show. The actors were visibly having a great time with the material and certainly so did the audience. Putting a minimal set to maximum use, the songs were clever and made wanting to write a musical another one of these dreams jammed into the brain's possible goal field.
Walking home after the show was a choice between along the busy road of Broadway and Ultimo or the back streets of Redfern, scene of much violence not too far back in the start of the year. The streets to Redfern were lit extremely bright for 2200 hours.
Thursday, 16 September 2004
Charged on the reading high of finally reading the Carnage storyline in Ultimate Spider-Man issues #60-64 (cramming elements aplenty from the clone saga in a nice way (necessitated by the spoilt discovery of a major character development)), the load from Beckett Comics looked ready for standing order sampling.
Priming up the bridge was a free copy of Fallen Angel #1 finding its way into the box with no wraggling at all or even expectations. With the trade paperback out there for an easy sum under $20, there's still some hesitation on getting the next move after the first issue. The prospect of possibly landing inside the limited number for the tip-in plate doesn't even really weigh heavy. At issue with the issue is the cold of warming up to the lead Lee and her need to show how smart she is with every sentence. The final movement might have some resonance with the future or even current state of Lee, but perhaps a second reading will determine if a plunge will be worthwhile.
On the other half of the paper bag, the Beckett Comics (Ballad of Sleeping Beauty #2, Ruule #4 and Fade From Grace #1) marked a clearer line in the sandy wash of figuring out whether or not replacement titles will be soon added to the standing order. Feeling flat and read altogether within the span of ten minutes, these three made craving for their next respective issues harder to summon. Fade From Grace came close, the quirky feel, the different style of play, but fizzling toward the end hammered in the right that nothing was actually seizing in any way.
Wednesday, 15 September 2004
With the count of the past week, the haul of the comics was unexpectedly beefed with three comics proffered on the basis of something hidden. Fallen Angel #1 found its way into the pile. The status of free clearly marked, it was perhaps the only copy in store. Why it was in this particular pile wasn't questioned. Neither were the appearance of Fade from Grace #1 or The Ballad of Sleeping Beauty #2.
Last week, a variant cover to Astonishing X-Men #4 was handed out at cover conversion price. This very issue being one already marked up to double digits at an unscrupulous store in the city.
All these, coming in the wake of slashing Ultimate Fantastic Four and Spectacular Spider-Man from the standing order. Too close to a head trip, this may be the start of something different in the reading habit.
Sunday, 12 September 2004
Wine for those eager and OJ to the unwilling few, it was a basket of freshly baked scones with jam and cream on the side to serve out the last day of three of the documentation crew. Onto to other pastures, their time had come despite some work left to do, they would not be coming back on Monday with the other half of the team asked to stay on and finishing out the assignment. If talking and chitchat was expected it certainly didn't eventuate outside normal preexisting conversations. Their stations were cleared and come 1700 hours, they too followed. Perhaps down the line paths may cross.
Saturday, 11 September 2004
Reading this Mark Waid & Alex Ross DC Elseworlds collection was fraught with much jerking, twitching and bouts of blackouts. Falling between chapters and even panels, the train was always throwing in moments of snapshot sleeping sessions. Holding onto the trade and staying focused on the letters in the balloons was an intense experience. One tested a few times before but with the gloss of a golf magazine.
Grim and depressing.
Friday, 10 September 2004
Waiting there on the table after a hardly done day of work, an envelope from Canada bearing an aardvark. Inside, one of many form letters, a listing of trades and a free and signed copy of Cerebus #167 by Dave Sim and Gerhard.
Shocking its existence as part of a call for those wanting a free parody issue of Sandman in Cerebus. A letter was sent and thought to have been lost amid the illegible script it suffered, or worse yet, reasons unfounded. But there it was, waiting to be opened and read. Opened now, still to be read and most likely only in at least a few months from now.
Dated on the 18th of August, the letter inside was a good mark on the speed at which postal mail would travel from one continent (Canada) to another (Australia).
Tuesday, 7 September 2004
After a harried interview in the middle of the week with a man breathing only through his mouth and a call up for a dog costume near fitting, it was surprising to find another month has been requested. Well, so be it. This makes things easier.
Saturday, 4 September 2004
Middle of the day, a lunch break forming and food toasted, there was time to visit the post office underneath the Queen Victoria Building.
From the outset it was supposed to have been a simple transaction, the purchase of an international stamp or two. Instead, on noticing the line for the philatelics, a burn fired and after ten minutes of counting, a wad of ten stamp sheets featuring the Olympic gold medallist of recent was had.
The letter to South America has to wait again.
Thursday, 2 September 2004
Elemunk scrambles the loose connections bouncing about the mind of Soon Van.
Feel free to ask questions on any topic. Or spend some quality killswitch time poking about reading the vintage synapses
Or maybe a torrid trail of job interviews?
Elementary Funk by Soon Van is licensed under a Creative Commons License. Feel free to read up on the scope of the copyright over the posts and photos.
SPOON!
