Tuesday, November 15, 2011

How Can I Help You?

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During an illustrious *ahem* career, I have always worked in customer service jobs. I’ve answered phones, assisted enquiries, made appointments, and even helped out Santa. I can’t imagine not working in a role like this – it’s what I’ve always done, and I think that I’d go quite batty if I was left to my own devices on a regular basis.

People are the best part, and the worst part of a job in customer service. Some days you will have a string of customers who make you laugh, take an interest in what’s going on, listen considerately to what you are saying, and are just pleasures to deal with. Those days you leave work with a spring in your step, and an absolute faith in humanity.

And then there are the other days; the ones where you encounter twat after miserable sodding twat. They leave you feeling wrung out, prone to headbutting, and with an absolute certainty that society is going to hell in a handbasket and that it would just be best to debunk now. You can’t predict it – one second you’ll be having a lovely chat with someone, the next second *BAM*… they’re staring at your chest, breathing heavily, and patronising the shit out of you.

You always hear about how you should be good to the people that serve your food in restaurants and cafes. You know that there’s a great window of opportunity for them to tamper with your mushroom fettuccine, and that it isn’t out of the question for bodily fluids to become involved. You know that, you abide by that (if you’re clever), and you eat your pasta without any contamination.

What people don’t seem to think about is that ANYBODY in a customer service job can make things difficult for you, if they feel like it. Sure, you probably won’t actually be consuming anything that they’ve handled, but paperwork can be misplaced, waiting times can suddenly inexplicably double, previously known information can be spontaneously forgotten, and, “Oh sorry – did I just hang up on you?”

For the most part, us customer service people are well-balanced individuals. We are not generally given to physical violence and attempting to place curses upon the people that we encounter. A “please” and a “thank you” can go a long way to ensuring that we don’t actually give you the wrong directions to the nearest service station.

Don’t patronise us. Don’t use the fact that we’re wearing a name tag as an excuse to stare at our chests. Don’t have a domestic at our counter. Don’t answer your phone while we’re serving you, and expect us to stand there patiently while you try to figure out what’s for dinner tonight. Don’t ask us a question, and then interrupt us halfway through our answer. Don’t get angry with us if the information that we are giving you is displeasing to you. And for god’s sake – use your manners.

Receptionists are people too, damn it.

PLEASE NOTE: I’m not saying that I’ve ever done any of this stuff. I’m just saying that if I wanted to, I could.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Teddy Bear's Picnic (Sans Bears)

A while ago I made a new product for my Turning Trixie market offerings. It's a little picnic set which includes a bottle bag, two placemats that have a handy little pocket and loop for your cutlery and napkin, and some dandy mismatched cutlery. The two that I've made so far are from an old curtain, and it's all just a bit cute.

On the market day I had a bottle of wine as part of the display - I went all classy. I was going to take some new photos today of the sets to put on here, but I've run out of class (wine) so I'm just going to stick with the market pics.

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{Photo by Naomi}

And after you're done picnicking, the placemats handily roll up and can be carried in the drinks bag. See the handiness! See the multi-functioning item!

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{Photo by Naomi}

I also went on a little op-shopping trip the other day, and I scored. SCORED. There are some days when you just happen to be sitting somewhere, playing with your fringe and wondering if maybe you should part it on the other side, and suddenly you're struck with the overwhelming need to go to a particular op-shop.

Sometimes it doesn't pan out. Sometimes you drive hell for leather to that op-shop, only to find stained 80's clothing, hundreds of white shirt buttons, the ubiquitous Kamahl records, and hostile volunteers who just won't smile, however damned hard you try.
But sometimes it DOES work out. And they're the days that make that instinct worth following. The days that, for example, you spend the princely sum of $23.50, and walk away with 4 dresses, a cardigan, a jumper, a piece of fabric, 2 doilies and 6 tablecloths.

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Suffice it to say, I'm a pretty happy, tablecloth-laden kid.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

In A Whirlwind

In the past few weeks I've been crafty...

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I've done a Made With Love market...

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I've been on a road trip to Hobart with the boy and his kidlets (via Tasmazia)...

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I've flown to Sydney...

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I've had a good hair day (whilst wearing my latest op-shop triumph)...

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I've caught up with my friends...

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I went to some cool markets...

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I've communed with animals...

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I've spent some quality time at my Mum's place...

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And I hung out with one of my favourite little families, who just welcomed their new addition during the week...

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So now I'm home. Halfway through a seven day work week, planning Christmas presents to make, and finally writing a blog post.

It's months like this that make me realise that I'm actually a pretty lucky chick.

Friday, September 30, 2011

Adventureland

PLEASE NOTE: This blog post is not related to the movie of the same name. Adventureland, the movie, sucked. I wish to have no affiliation with it. The end.

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Hanging out at City Park

Last weekend, the boy and I went to Launceston to take advantage of some el cheapo hotel rooms that I scored through work (have I mentioned how much I love working in tourism??).

I've not done much exploring in Launceston. I've driven through it, past it, and (I now realise) judged it purely on first impressions. I didn't like it. It looks grey, and busy (in comparison to the fair old town of Burnie), and I couldn't understand the appeal.

I do now. Launceston has brilliant cafes, a park with monkeys in it, a couple of fab vintage clothes shops, fantastic old buildings, a park with monkeys in it, a lovely cobblestone-type mall, and a park with monkeys in it.

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Monkeys. In a park. Monkeys.

D and I drove up there after work on Friday night, and generally lived it up in the snazzy hotel room. We ordered room service, I locked his wallet and phone in the room safe while he was out of the room, and we pretended that we were rich and that this lifestyle was normal. We know how to have a good time.

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On Saturday we got up early and explored. Oh, the exploring. We went to one of the best cafes that I've ever been to for breakfast (Fresh). Fresh is totally organic, and has a lot of vegetarian options (otherwise known as hippy food). It was tasty, it was funky, it was just fantabulous.

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Fresh
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Armchairs on the pavement outside Fresh
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Chai latte *nom nom nom*

From there we went vintage clothes shopping, and I finally got to visit Nanna's. I've been wanting to visit Nanna's ever since I first saw Bianca from Goodnight Little Spoon talk about it, and it's everything that I thought it would be. Awesome clothes, chicks wearing kerchiefs serving up old-school milkshakes, laminate tables and vintage teacups - I didn't want to leave. And once they played The Smiths on their stereo, neither did D. Really, if you go to Launceston, go to Nanna's. Do it.

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Drawer of fabulousness at Nanna's
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Awesome decor
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One of the few moments where I stopped squealing

We spent the afternoon wandering. I finally cracked under the pressure and got an i-Phone. We had a picnic in the park, and visited the monkeys. We went to the Queen Victoria Museum. We walked until my tootsies requested that we stop. We managed to fit in so much goodness, it was amazing that neither one of us imploded from a happiness overload.

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My favourite portrait at the museum

On Saturday night, we made our way into town to grab some dinner from an Indian restaurant, and avail ourselves to a few beverages from a local barkeep. While we were sitting at the pub, Bianca rode past on her pink bike. I'll admit to being a bit excited. D missed the whole thing, because he was facing away from the window, and all he knew was that one moment I was sitting on the seat next to him, and then I was suddenly standing with my face smooshed against the window, talking about how cute her bike is.

And THEN (this story will end really soon, I promise) we drove down the Evandale and checked out the markets. Another thing that I can highly recommend. We didn't have much time, so we kind of just did a sweep of the area, and had very targeted browses (D - records, me - craft stuff) and then reconvened for more wandering.

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Rusty old Vespa at Evandale

So, by and large, a radtacular time was had by all. All two of us. Just goes to show that you can't accurately judge a place from the drivers seat.

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Girl + Boy
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