Quote Of The Day

I’ve decided to write down the most memorable “quote of the day”, as said by the clients I work with, for every day I have left at work in Melbourne. This post will be edited every day, rather than eight new posts ;) Oh, and C: means "Client:"

Quote of the day – Monday 25^th January 2010

On discussing there will be a new worker after I move to the UK...

C: “Will the new worker be good looking – like Chris – or will he look like you?”

Me: I mime pulling an arrow from my heart “Ohh!”

C: With a very dismissive tone of voice “Yeah, yeah, breaking your heart, breaking your heart”

You gotta love her :)

No quote for Tuesday, 'twas Invasion Day...

Quote of the day – Wednesday 27^th January 2010

On bumping into a client on the street...

Me: "You were in prison again, what happened?"

C: "I can't remember, I was probably being a dickhead, they locked me up for another month..."

After a few seconds, a look of realisation, followed by an ear-to-ear grin

C: "Oh yeah, I remember... I stole fuckn' tip jars... from cafes... Fuck I was a dickhead..."

And yes, he kept on smiling the whole time...

Quote of the day – Thursday 28^th January 2010

On finishing coffee and cake at "fully sick" cafe on Chapel St...

C: "I've paid for all of it."

Me: "It says on the receipt you've paid for the cake, we'll pay for the coffee and then go."

C: "But if I give them that money then I won't have enough for a DVD!"

Me: "You'll have plenty of money left, after we've both paid we'll go and look for DVDs"

C: "But Joe..." and then on comes the 'whinge' tone of voice "...I won't have enough for a DVD!!"

Me: "You'll have enough, we'll pay and then go."

C: "Don't fukn' start with me Joe, fuck me dead! I won't have enough for a DeeeeeeeVeeeeeeDeeeeeeeeeeeee!" ...he's yelling now... "Don't tell me what to do with my money! I'll tell mum!"

Me: "You can tell her, that's OK, but I can't leave this seat until we've paid."

C: "Fuck this, I've had it, I'm leaving!"

He walked off, three times actually, and we continued the above conversation each time he returned... until after ten minutes of this 'hi-bye' business...

C: "OK, I'll pay for the coffees."

Me: "Just pay for yours, I'll pay for mine."

C: "I was just shit-stirring you Joe..." and chuckles "...sorry 'bout that."

We found the DVD he was looking for. And yes, he had money for that... and two more coffees...

Quote of the day – Monday 1^st February 2010

During a discussion on the phone about how I’ll give him a hand to do something on Wednesday, he comes out with this little chestnut…

C: “I’m fuckn’ shattered you’re leaving, you cunt.”

Aww, shucks… thanks man! :)

Quote of the day – Tuesday 2^nd February 2010

While he was making a sandwich… quite out of no-where…

C: “So you’re gonna be a worker in England soon?”

Me: “Yeah, very soon."

C: “Tell ‘em how fit I am, tell ‘em I did thirty laps f the oval, they won’t believe you. I’d be fitter than all of ‘em anyway… well… they’re English, after all.”

In Australia, ‘fit’ means physical fitness. He seems to think people in the UK need to lay off the crisps... Though I’m sure this man thinks he’s the ‘fittest’ man in Melbourne, no matter how you define ‘fit’ :)

Quote of the day – Wednesday 3^rd February 2010

On speaking of his frustrations with finding housing, and problem solving some more appropriate ways of gaining assistance from workers which doesn’t involve threats of violence…

C: “I have to keep on his case, so he can keep on her case. But if she doesn’t do nothing then I just bounce between ‘em, and I have to keep living in a fuckn’ men’s shelter. And there’s problems at [the men's shelter] – some people from prison, years ago. The workers tried to sort it out, but it’s not really sorted.”

So, you need three guesses about how prison problems are “sorted”? I never said the quotes would all be funny…

Quote of the day – Thursday 4^th February 2010

I was asking about the members of his family, until finally…

Me: “And how’s [his sister]?”

C: “She’s your type!”

Me: “Yeah yeah, so, how is she?”

He laughs, and holds his packet of cigarettes towards my face, and laughs while saying…

C: “Eat it!”

This man LOVES to take the piss.. my type of guy ;)

The unknown can be a bitch.

An accurate description of my last week would be to describe myself as a “rabbit in headlights”. I’d had a dawning realisation – it’s the end of January. In the same way I forget my own birthday, I neglected to notice that I will finish work in two weeks, say goodbye to family in Perth in three weeks, and have left the country in four weeks. Around six minutes after this realisation, an overwhelming anxiety about money generally, and work in the UK. While I have money, I don’t have enough to cope with major fuck-ups.

Strangely enough, the same kind of duality is present, as with my “Don’t want to say goodbye – Can’t stay” routine of late. I am very optimistic about being able to choose the work I do and having a choice in the place I live. Though at the same time I am conscious I have no room for either laziness – or major errors, with this translating to anxiety about my ability to feed myself.

The unknown can be a bitch.

So soon I’ll say goodbye. I’ll do my best, and work my arse off when I get there. What else can I do?

Eulogy to home.

I arrived in Melbourne at around 7pm on the 24th of August, 2002. I didn’t know anyone, I hadn’t a clue where I was or how to get anywhere. It took me three days to work out there were train stations underground in the city. I had no job, no money, one suitcase and eyes wide open. I will be leaving Melbourne at around 5pm on the 24th of February, 2010. This makes my time in Melbourne about two hours shy of exactly seven and a half years, to the day.

In that time, I have lived in seven houses (Prahran (twice), Oakleigh, Melbourne City, St Kilda, Caulfield and finally Brunswick), had had nine jobs (I had to count them on my fingers just now) and two motorcycles. I now walk down the street and remember things. Strange, funny, relaxed, uncomfortable, precious things – I have memories. Lots of memories.

On Tuesday night we went to see a show by Daniel Kitson called “66a Church Road - A Lament Made of Memories and Kept in Suitcases”. For those of you who don’t know of this man, he is probably one of the most captivating personalities I’ve ever encountered. And I would love to play “computer football” with him someday :)

I’m no reviewer, and I don’t pretend to be. Google knows about this show anyway. Suffice to say Daniel describes a terrible breakup he had after a six year relationship – with his flat. He spoke about the memories created in and around the place, in a style which is hard to describe. He spoke about reminiscence and nostalgia – the actual meanings of these, and how these skew his view, ever so slightly, to change it from what the flat actually is, to what it means to him.

Daniel Kitson is an arsehole. And I love him for it. Late on Tuesday night I was thinking about the places around me, what they mean to me, and that I will be saying “good-bye”.

I’ve made this place home. This city – it’s streets – the weather, with it’s multiple personality disorder – the crappy railway crossing on Moreland Rd – The cafes down Degraves and Lygon’s food – the view over the side of the West Gate Bridge while riding in morning peak – there’s too many little things… This home we’ve made in Brunswick. We’ve been here a touch over three years, and good-byes will be said to this flat in about five and a half weeks.

By Wednesday I’d had the realisation I will need to say goodbye to a lot of people, some of whom I like – a few of whom I love. I don’t want to think about this any more right now, so I won’t be writing more. I may do in the future, just not now.

I’d not thought about these things until Tuesday night – saying goodbye to my home. Now don’t get me wrong, these goodbyes are not a bad thing, though there may be a necessary sadness. I must go, I have to go, I must say “good-bye” and leave this place. While I have plenty of choice about where I live and what I do, there is no other choice I can seriously consider. Nor do I want to.

I was speaking with one of the best people on the planet last night, discussing this. I’m going to leave here, and move to a place I know nothing about. I will make new memories, and I will make it my home – if I choose to. I’m looking forward to this, and I’m very much excited about the possibilities and experiences waiting for me to simply accept. I’m not exactly sure what my new home will look like, or feel like, but I know it will feel like home.

I’m sure I’ll be back in Melbourne one day, though I have no plans to do this. It may be for a holiday or it may be permanent, but I’ll be back.

Someday.

It’s always stayed with me.

“In 1994 I’ll be 13 years old, in 1995 I’ll be 14 years old, in 1996 I’ll be 15 years old, and after that I’ll be old.”

I have a very distinct memory of doing this maths on my fingers when I was 10 or so. It stayed with me. From my 16th birthday on, I had no real view of what the following year might look like, and I didn’t really care. That has also stayed with me. When opportunities present themselves, and seem positive and beneficial, I’ll generally take them. After all, I have no 5 year plan. I have no one year plan. And that has always stayed with me.

Thankfully, I’ve never felt the need to be solemn in order to be deliberate.

Inspiration

http://johnoez.blogspot.com/ is the inspiration for me starting this journal for our travels. My brother landed in Amsterdam on NYE 2009/10 and gave some insights into his experiences, when he could find a computer that is. While I’ve become somewhat accustomed to being away from family though my life so far, I’ve rarely been very far from my brother at any time. And I’ve liked it like that. His writings have been very welcomed, and helped me to feel less uncomfortable about his being so far away.

My hope is this can be an open letter with my family, and my brother when we’re not in the same city. Not just as a “Yeah, still alive!” thing, but also a “I saw this thing…” and “What do you recon of…?” Facebook and other social network sites are good for a few things, but lacking when it comes to this kind of detail I think.

Also, while on work placement, I was asked to write a journal entry every day, I was told this was in part to document for myself any changes in attitude and outlook which may happen. I get the feeling this type of journal could be quite interesting for me now. I will be as frank as my brother in what I write.