Third star to the right...

http://gypsysrest.blogspot.com/ check out my new site, and my new life to be...

A NEW New Chapter

You realise (pending finance) I'm going to have to create a whole NEW blog for my whole NEW life.

I have a 'family & friends' blog but it's not polite to slag your children's father endlessly on a site he reads, or to talk about sex to your oh-so-Catholic-we-do-it-we-just-don't-talk-about-it Aunty.
I like blogger for that reason.

So what will I name my new blog?
I think I will call it 'Gypsy's Rest'...unless some other bastard already has the frigging name. LOL

See you in the future!

Done Deal!

That's it - it's a done deal, contracts signed and I'm packing boxes now!
Here comes another one, just like the other one...just point me in the new direction, wind me up and watch me go.

The crazy newspaper lady has refused to work with me - after organising for them to hire me, for me to help her, and begging for time off, she has refused to take holidays, hand over layout to me...oh, and generally slandered me shamelessly.
Now she's guaranteed that she'll get the paper done in time (on a long weekend, silly girl) or her neck's on the block.
Three members of her managing committee quit during the two and half hour 'intervention' they had today but, the important part is...
I WILL HAVE MY FIRST LONG WEEKEND OFF IN MORE THAN 10 YEARS!

Of course, I will be using that time to catch up on housework, box up as much as I can fit in my car, help my parents finish their business plan, drive my children all over the country...before travelling to the Outback to 'consult' on the newspaper without, in any way, upsetting the incumbent or implying that she can't do her bloody job...and then hiring a trailer to get the last of my stuff back from where my ex dumped it all at his mate's house.

If I'm feeling really shitty, I might even just leave his stuff there (considering he's too busy with his NEW life to ever get there himself - deja vu for the man who moved in with me with a single bag of belongings) and just take mine and the kids' straight to the 'new home'.

Sadly, while that would be fair (considering he took the dog and his clothes and left everything else he was supposed to be bringing down to me without even warning me he was moving and the kids would be visiting him at a new house on weekends) I'm not really interested in furthering the war we're only just recovering from.
Of course, in my deepest, darkest heart I can chortle about having the OPTION to do those nasty, vengeful things.

Insert small, wicked chortle here.

Count Down

So we're counting down...
The offer's been made, looks like it'll be accepted even, and then I'll be hanging up my mightier-than-the-sword pen and picking up a hairnet and plastic gloves...and not even the interesting kind of plastic gloves. LOL

So I'm going to say goodbye to my almond trees and my fallen-down house on the hill and my old dreams (as well as a few disappointments and broken promises, just a little reality check for this little nostalgia trip) and start fresh.
Ocean fresh...like the CleanSeas tuna I'll be living a few waves away from eh?

I'll be able to grow frangipani, but probably not tulips.
The kids will see their Dad, but I won't have to.
I'll meet lots of new people - although they'll only talk to me long enough to get their hot chips or ice creams or road maps.

You know what I worry about - it's silly I know - but the things that make me amazing - my writing, my ability to talk about anything (even if it's all crap), my art, my music, my ideas - they're not actually going to be showcased in a shop are they?
So what kind of new friends am I going to make?
Who is going to find me interesting when I'm just a face above an apron?

But then, maybe it's the opportunity to stop writing news, and start writing novels?
Do it for love and fun, not for a wage.

I pulled the Death Card today.
And the nine of pentacles.
The conclusion of one stage of life, and a new security gained for myself.

It's nice to have a new direction, it's just a bit sad to let go of the old one.
My kids will love their new school and I will love being near beaches again and my family.
And, let's face it, I'm ready to throw away the teaching plans and look at something that suits me better (and is tax deductible) like tourism.

I love the idea of being with kids, but, after reading my course outline, I struggle with all the steps to getting there.
All the 'stages of development' and 'mandatory reporting' - I just like to read to kids, and talk about bilbies, and play playdoh, and teach them to cook, and glue sparkly things on paper - and those things don't come in a recognised course, sadly (The Six Essential Stages of Foil & Glitter Collage).

My friend Vanity is reading this right now and feeling very smug...I'll let that go this time. LOL My answer is, I tried to find a 'sensible' solution for my future, but 'sensible' doesn't always cut it with me.

I have a friend who finished her teaching degree, walked into her new classroom on the first day, left at lunchtime and never came back.
That image sticks in my mind some days when I'm waiting for my course books to arrive.
On the other hand, I have a wonderful teacher brother - who just happens to be teaching the 'it's not like that' witch's kids at the moment.
So I know it can be great too.

If we get the business, the house isn't anything special, but it's tidy and just the right size and there's a garden I can make my own and an outdoor area I can personalise.
The Kids will have their own rooms (and half a chance to keep them clean) and I'll have the chance to get rid of everything in my life that I don't specifically love or need.
I'll be settled so I can go back to growing my own herbs and vegies and have an oven to cook real meals in again.

Mum and Dad and I are halfway through a business plan already - despite all three of us coming from such different directions and making each other crazy with all the double-talk - and that part's exciting because I love the mechanics of business, and I've learned so much from the newspaper that I want to put into practice.

The Kids and I are still on hold here.
"Don't put in any plants, don't start any projects, don't unpack too much"...it'll be nice to be settled again for a while.

The Kids can join sport and music and dancing, I can study and occasionally have a child-free weekend or afternoon (love them as I do, that would be nice too) although it's not being child-free but being adult-with that's the issue.
I miss my friends. I miss being important to someone else's fun.

There might even be dancing down there for me, I know there's a singing group, or maybe I'll pull out my paints and pastels again - that's what people do at the beach (at least when it's too cold to swim) eh?
Maybe I'll sell the finished products to gullible tourists in the shop - LOL.

So many good things - I've always been lucky that way.
I've always had so many good things in my life.
I guess, when I finally have my big yard sale before I move - hopefully I'll get rid of a whole lot of baggage with the boxes.
Fingers crossed.

Funny how I smile most of the time now, how I don't dread real life any more, don't flinch if someone flirts with me...but when I get in a car to drive somewhere, or my fingers get typing, other stuff comes out of me.
The subconscious is a strange country - I'm looking forward to the day when my temporary visa expires and I go back to being shallow and uncomplicated all over again.

A summary...

Labor - Liberal
Tomatoe - Tomato
Let's call the whole thing off...

The Nature of Newspapers and Nutters

Journalism, the media, print in particular...is there any other industry in the world that attracts so many just, plain crazy people?

Does the job do it to you?
Is it the stress of deadlines and public scrutiny and constantly juggling ethics and sales targets at the same time?

Or do we take these jobs because it's already in us - that little twist?
Face it, you have to be an idealist or an opportunist to survive for any time in the field.
But you don't have to be qualified, or even good at your job, you just have to insanely obsessed with other people's lives...as stories mind you, not real people.
If you think about your 'sources' as people for too long it's hard to keep your objectivity.

This is the second or third time I've met a would-be journalist, well entrenched in a position, with a news sense but no sense of propriety.
I've met a couple of talented, educated journos as well who were all the more frightening simply because the idea that they got that far up the media ladder with so many 'kinks' is plain frightening.

The woman I'm supposed to be bossing around right now is the most frightening because she just glazes over when she's confronted with her own faults or mistakes.
I estimated she's spent eight hours of the past 48 on the phone to three different people, myself included, whinging about how she doesn't have time to do the work in front of her.

Now, considering my own long-running history strapped to a keyboard on a community newspaper, I'd be a lot more sympathetic, EXCEPT THAT I'M DOING HER JOB FOR HER!

What's really terrifying is, I can see myself in this woman.
I can see the terror of looming deadlines, procrastination, self-loathing and inability to fulfill a goal that should be achieveable...which, of course, you just don't want to admit.
Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.
But in her, it's MAGNIFIED...

So, here I am, with my kids home from school, squished up on my Mum's computer because, quite simply, if I take the five hours to drive home the paper won't get out, sending completed pages to a madwoman who refuses to open her email because her arm hurts and emails take up too much of her time.

I'm starting to feel a little glazed myself.
I've finished two cartons of CocaCola in three days, written half a business plan, done an inspection of a business that I'm not sure I'm capable of driving, not to mention the 15 hours I have spent with my parents going over and over and OVER every detail of the POSSIBLE purchase of said business.
In between I've still managed to do a big part of the Mummy duties, but not all...Mum and The Man have both had the kids for a big part of the past four days or so.
I've called in a friend to feed my animals back home, I've talked to a MILLION people in a tiny town 600km away that I've only been to twice and now...I am going to bed.

I'm sure I wrote a blog a little while back about how I love newspapers.
I take it back.
I take it ALL back!