2016 To-Do List Challenge Part 1: the best laid plans of [second] mice and men

At the start of the year, I wrote a to-do list. I felt like in 2015 I got caught up in the have-tos and must-dos and somehow skipped a lot of just-for-fun stuff that I should have been doing, if I thought about how I really wanted to spend my time. So, when it came to thinking about 2016 and how I wanted it to go, I wrote a list 12 fun things that I wanted to do with the aim of accomplishing one per month. It was probably some idea I saw on Instagram about living meaningfully or something, and I’m always vaguely optimistic in the new year. Anyway, it seemed a good plan, so I wrote my list and I was pretty chuffed about it.

todo

And do you know what? It’s the end of November and I have not done a single one.

Not a single one!

And I’m really disappointed. It’s not like they were even hard big-ticket things, like writing a book, or things that required a lot of money, like eating French cheese in Paris (both bucket list items, in case you were wondering). Some of them would have needed an afternoon at most, so time can’t have been a factor either. Am I just the walking epitome of slackness? What are you doing, April?

Luckily, I love deadlines and happen to [legitimately, not in a cliche job interview way] work best under pressure. Sure, there’s only a handful of weeks left in the year, but I think I can – potentially with a few clever reinterpretations or edits based on time restraints – smash out all 12 in this last leg of the year. There is nothing more satisfying than a completed to-do list, after all.

I already have a very vague bare-bones sort of plan of how to make it work. 2016: game on.

‘Til next time,

Sig

Adulting 101: How to write a resume

Listen up: it’s time to get real. It’s an unfortunate truth that one of the perils of being an adult is, occasionally, having to actually be an adult. So. Let’s talk jobs. In my real life, as part of my real job, I see a lot of resumes.

A lot.

And I’ll let you in on a trade secret: heaps of them genuinely SUCK. You guys. Your resume is one of the most vital documents in your working life. Why aren’t you giving it some love? For a lot of jobs it’s the only introduction you will get and bad impressions (or worse: wrong impressions) matter.

job-hunt

On average, for each job I recruit for, I see a minimum of a hundred applications and I have to get through them quickly. Sometimes you hear that recruiters spend less than a minute on your resume (it’s true, for an initial scan at least) and I know that makes you question why you would spend time on it at all if that is the case. Here’s why: if you are looking for a job, you don’t want to piss off the gatekeeper of the jobs.

Don’t make me join the dots myself. Show me what I want to hear. Make it easy for me to see how you are a good fit for my job. Pro tip: the easier you make a recruiter’s life, the more they will like you.

Some things you may want to consider:

Ditch the cover page and the photo. Save the planet and get down to business. And if you really insist on a photo, choose one that is semi professional and not a selfie where you’ve obviously cropped out your bestie but your makeup is on point.

Bin the objective, unless you really, really have one. You’re applying for this job because you want this job, presumably.

so-why-do-you-want-this-job-meme

I don’t care what subjects you studied in school. At most, list where you went and what year you finished. If it was more than say five years ago, you could easily leave it off. By that stage, your experience should speak for itself.

List dates of employment not length of service. I want to know if the eight months you worked at Kmart was the last eight months or eight months ten years ago. I can do basic maths (mostly), just give me a point of reference for how recent your experience is. If you’ve got glaring gaps that you can explain (travelling, raising babies), tell me so.

Give me context. Don’t just list job titles, tell me about what you did in the role. An Admin Assistant in one company might be purely responsible for filing and copying. In another they might also do reception, data entry, minutes and diary management, banking and bookkeeping. If you just put “Admin Assistant”, it keeps me guessing and I hate guessing. Admin Assistant =/= Admin Assistant.

Format neatly. Anything that makes your resume easy on the eye so I can get a picture of who you are quickly, is going to help me. It doesn’t have to be a work of art, but things like consistent headings and dot points are helpful. I don’t want to see big chunks of text, weird fonts (I’m looking at you, Papyrus), jobs listed out of order, and so on.

Don’t waste your space. Ideally, you want your resume to be two to three pages. Don’t fill it with inspirational quotes to show how deep and motivated you are (“You miss 100% of the shots you never take” – Wayne Gretzky). Ain’t nobody got time for that. Focus on what is relevant and recent because that has the most bearing on where you go next. I’m going to pay most attention to your last couple of roles, give or take, depending on how long you’ve been in them. Remember your resume does not have to be an exhaustive chronicle of your entire life back to your 1998 after school job where you:

  • advised on menu items
  • took customer orders
  • handled cash
  • served food

Ugh, seriously stop. Why are you listing that? It’s 2016 and you’ve been working in IT project management for the last six years.

Customise it. Generally, one size does not fit all. When applying for a job, your resume’s sole purpose is to showcase what skills and experience you have in relation to the role you are applying for. So think about what the ad has asked for and how you can demonstrate right off the bat that you have the goods.

Proof read. Bad grammar and spelling errors bug me. And you know what? I’m heaps lazy, so help me out. If I decide I want to call you, don’t make me flip through three pages to find your phone number – put that shit up the front.

‘Til next time,

Sig

Current Obsessions: breakfast, enamel pins, and learning Spanish

Going out for breakfast

Shout out to my favourite meal of the day: breakfast.

breakfast

Not only is breakfast the best meal to go out for (in your face, dinner!), but something about taking myself out for breakfast just makes me feel like I have my shit together. Also I feel all inspired and writerly if I write in a cafe. Yeah – I’m that guy.

For those playing at home, my fave local weekend breakfast hang out is The Middle Store on Winston Avenue at Melrose Park. Try the beetroot hummus bagel and the baklava. Yums.

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Enamel pins

My denim jacket has never looked cooler. 2016 sure has shades of the 80s and I’m pretty happy about it. Enamel pins clustered together appeal to my insatiable urge to collect things, my love of brooches, and my propensity for online shopping. I’ve been so impressed with so many designs, I just can’t stop. Favourites:

Just make sure you that if you are shopping for pins you are supporting independent designers and not the big chain stores who are ripping off their designs.

 

Learning Spanish

So, back in the day, I studied Spanish at uni and promptly forgot it all. Well, all the useful stuff anyway. I can still sing the first verse of ‘La Bamba‘, but that wasn’t exactly on the curriculum. It’s just fun to do.

Cut forward to now and I’m trying to learn again, this time using the Duolingo app which is free, super easy to use, and something I got hooked on really quickly. Still, better to be addicted to something where you learn valuable skills than something like, say, Candy Crush (and trust me – I’ve been there, it wasn’t pretty).

duo

Anyway, remember: para bailar la bamba se necesita una poca de gracia*.

Which counts me out, frankly.

‘Til next time,

Sig

 

*  In order to dance la bamba, you need a little grace.

 

[Don’t] Send in the Clowns

You know that old saying: it’s all fun and games until people decide to dress as clowns and lurk about the place scaring the living bejeebus out of people? Well, welcome to 2016, where that bucket of weirdness is our unfortunate reality.

Unless you’ve been hiding under a rock (smart move: the clowns can’t get you there) you will have heard about the ‘clown purge’. It’s such a big thing, that in the US schools have gone into lockdown and at Penn State, 6000 college students charged out of their dorms to HUNT CLOWNS reportedly sighted on campus.

6000.

To. Hunt. Clowns.

You know what that is?

Mass hysteria.

masshysteria

2016 is weird, man.

The craze or whatever you would like to call it has now hit Australia and the police, for presumably the first time ever, are issuing warnings to not dress as clowns:

sapol

Who knew clowns would invade before zombies, right? What’s interesting to me about the clown purge is the sheer scale of it. Even Stephen King is weighing in on this one because, let’s face it, he didn’t really help make clowns any less scary by writing It. (Too little too late, Stevo. You brought this on yourself).

Think about it. What was the last thing the general populace en masse freaked out about? Anyone? Because it seems in the age of social media we’re collectively pretty snappy about nipping hoaxes and bullshit in the bud. So why have clowns of all things whipped us all into a terrified frenzy?

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There are lots of reasons to be afraid of clowns, as it turns out.

The general theory seems to be communication focused – wearing a mask or grease paint hides facial expressions leaving us with no means to read the facial clues which help us determine whether they come in peace or want to eat us. There’s a disquiet that comes with expressionless beings. It’s sinister. Additionally, context is so important to how we react to things. Sudden, surprise clowns appearing out of nowhere in ordinary settings (as opposed to say, a circus) break an unspoken agreement because they aren’t supposed to be there, and our brains freak. That’s science, man. I’m telling you.

I’ll tell you one other thing. If I see some weirdo dressed as a clown pop up in my rear view mirror I am pretty likely to run them down with my car. I won’t even feel bad about it.

But if nothing else, imagine what it will be like when we are old, reminiscing about that time in 2016 when we all hunted clowns. Oh, how we will laugh. And isn’t that, after all, what clowns are supposed to be about?

‘Til next time,

Sig

Things the SA Blackout Taught Me About the Upcoming Apocalypse

In case you missed it (where are you? is it warm? can I visit?), South Australia was hit by massive storms this week which, on Wednesday, saw the entire state without power. It basically looked something like this:

blackscreen

Kidding. From where I was sitting it actually looked like this:

pub

Now – I’m not one to be dramatic*, but sheltered in a pub, two wines in, it certainly seemed that amid the torrential rain, wide spread loss of power, and general ominous atmosphere there were certainly shades of the apocalypse about the place. There would be zombies before we knew it.

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Did a statewide blackout really signal the onset of the apocalypse? It did not. But it might have, right? Surely that will be Step One when old mate Armageddon rolls into town? So let us prepare. Here are some things that the blackout taught me about the impending end of days:

  1. I am woefully unprepared. Torch? No. Batteries? Negative. Important phone numbers? Yeah, in my dying phone. The news keeps telling people in affected areas to enact their flood plans. Is that something I am supposed to have? I don’t. I don’t even have a waterproof jacket.
  2. What I do have, though, is about 1,000 Ikea tealights, which were finally, finally useful.
  3. Reading by candlelight hurts your eyes.
  4. The whole thing was dead boring. What was left to do? Go to bed? I am going to be so well rested in our post-apocalyptic future if there is nothing to do come 8pm.
  5. There is a facility to mark yourself ‘safe’ from flooding on facebook. As far as I can tell marking yourself ‘unsafe’ does not signal for help.

 

In a nutshell: pack a brolly, enact your flood plans.

Stay safe,

Sig

*Okay, fine. Yes, I am.

 

 

 

 

Nostalgic Medicine featuring the Care Bears

Anyone who knows me even a little knows that I have a pretty rubbish immune system. I’ve blogged about being sick before. Bascially, winter has felt like one long plague season and I have largely forgotten what it’s like to wake up in the morning and feel well. 

cameron

When I was a kid there was one rule whenever I felt unwell. That rule stipulated that the only thing that could possibly make me feel better was watching The Care Bears Movie. If you don’t know it, it’s a fairly terrible animated movie from 1985 in which the Care Bears befriend some lonely orphans and help a magician’s assistant break away from the spell of an evil spirit. Mickey Rooney does one of the voices. The Care Bears use their Rainbow Rescue Beam and discover the Care Bear Cousins. Carole King sings the theme song. Care-a-Lot is a place we all can go, you guys. If you don’t know where it is, look inside your heart.

bears2

Seriously – it’s vomitous.

I’m not sure exactly what restorative powers I imagined the movie possessed, especially given the sheer force of its rot-your-teeth-while-you-watch sweetness. The very mention of the movie these days I am sure causes my mother an involuntary eye twitch from many a night spent with a sick child and the movie on an apparently endless loop (Hi Ma! I’m feeling much better, no need to bring soup x). But I stood by my own questionable medical remedy for years and it’s entirely possible that The Care Bears Movie is burned into my memory in a way no other movie will be.

Yes. I still have a Care Bear. (For my health).

Yes. I still have a Care Bear. (For my health).

This winter, as I negotiate my wellspring of immunity failings, I can think of nothing I rely on with such determination as a sick adult except medically sound though wholly uninteresting things like paracetamol, vitamin C, and aloe vera tissues. And though I worry it may make cynical, adult me want to stab my own eyes out with my Vicks inhaler, I am very tempted to track down a copy of The Care Bears Movie in readiness for next time, just in case.

‘Til next time,

Sig

No, sir. We are not a match.

Here’s what’s up: I’ve been single a while. For the most part, it’s pretty great. I do what I like, when I want to do it. My weird schedule doesn’t affect anyone but me, and the only arguments I have at home are between me and whatever jar I can’t open. But despite the pros, sometimes a bit of human interaction is a really nice thing. And meeting new people… it’s not easy.

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It seemed everyone but me has tried online dating (to varying degrees of success) and I wanted to find out what all the fuss was about. So at a friend’s suggestion, I signed up for OKCupid (“It’s great! You’ll love it!”). I set up a brief profile, added a passably cute photo, and started having a scout around. It was low commitment and low cost and low effort – basically the opposite of every dating experience I have had in the past.

Dating, I am sure, has never been an easy thing. Today, thanks to our social media addiction, dating is a bigger minefield than ever as we negotiate this age of total visibility – we know when our messages have been seen, we get notified of people checking out our profiles. We monitor our visitors, collect our ‘likes’. We are present. We are seen, and unavoidably so. We conduct so much of our business in the digital realm I expected online dating to come pretty naturally. For me, it didn’t. For others, it doesn’t seem to either.

Usernames are hard.

I get it. You want a username that says something about you but also stands out from the crowd, and one that isn’t taken. It’s hard. If you are using a handle along the lines of ‘supernicedude’, ‘fuckboy69’ or ‘theguy4u’ then you may – may­ ­– be trying too hard. OKCupid also has a range of standard name endings you can add to turn your ordinary username-already-exists name into a viable username. The sort of thing that turns you from ‘Bill’ into ‘Bill-osaurus’. One of them, perplexingly, is ‘-taco’. Greg-taco. It tells me nothing. Who are you Greg? And do you even like tacos?

Uploading appealing pictures is hard.

A picture paints a thousand words, right? I like to think I’m not that superficial – that’s why I signed up for a dating site where people can write profiles instead of merely flicking left or right through photos and formulating opinions based purely on a person’s aesthetic fuckability. But a good photo is a good start all the same and it’s fascinating what people think are good dating profile photos. Here’s me with my mum! Here’s me posing with a comically large plasticine penis – see how zany I am? Here’s me in a large group – I’ll leave you to guess which one I am. Here’s a photo of my dog instead of me.

I don’t care how cute your Labrador is, I don’t want to date him.

Creating a profile is hard.

I kept my profile fairly brief at first, until I had a rummage around the site to get a feel for what people were saying. Much like the photos, some people were trying too hard. Conversely, some people weren’t trying at all. My rule of thumb was if I couldn’t think of anything I thought was witty enough for a section, I would leave it blank. Others should have perhaps followed this advice:

Idiot

Circle

After a few days of being bombarded by people who were going to try and turn anything I wrote into some kind of vague innuendo (“you like Terminator 2 and you drink a lot – well, aren’t you just saying all the right things in the right way *winky face*”) the urge to start trolling was strong.

april

So for my own amusement, I changed my ‘I’m really good at’ section to this:

Avocado

I hadn’t included my height in my profile and two separate people messaged me about this. One dispensed with a cursory hello and just said ‘height?’ like that was a valid introduction. Hint: it’s not.

Which leads me to…

Messaging people is hard.

Within one week of being on the dating site, I had received 73 messages from prospective suitors. Most were of the ‘hello, how are you?’ variety, which was fine. One guy chose ‘yummy!’ as his greeting of choice, which was not. Another wrote me poem about massaging my feet and brushing my hair.

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One guy said hello and, when I hadn’t responded after 3 days, wrote again to say he supposed I wasn’t interested (he’s quite astute). My favourite was the guy who purported to be a 19 year old virgin who wanted an experienced girl to show him “how it’s done”.

If I had a dollar for every ‘baby’ or ‘honey’ or ‘sexy’ that was tacked awkwardly into the messages, I’d be able to buy a pizza and a pretty nice bottle of wine.

Figuring out who to message is hard.

OKCupid suggests matches based on ‘powerful algorithms’ generated from your answers to a range of personality questions. The idea is, the greater the match, the higher the chance your would-be date will be receptive to your messages.

I put little faith in this for two reasons. Firstly, the ‘why is the earth a circle’ guy above was an 80%+ match.

Secondly, and more importantly, the questions the site asks get pretty weird pretty quick, flip-flopping from personal details, to job interview questions, to logic puzzles and everything in between. The not unexpected ‘how long would you like your next relationship to last’, for example, is followed up with ‘what’s worse – child abuse or animal abuse?’.

Random sample:

Capture

I think about carbs A LOT. You know why? Because carbs are delicious.

I don’t need a ‘powerful algorithm’ to tell me I am 100% certain the strength of my next relationship is not going to hinge on whether or not my partner likes historical re-enactments, the taste of beer, or reading the newspaper. Similarly, for them, is it a deal breaker that I prefer tea over coffee and know the ‘wherefore’ in ‘wherefore art thou Romeo?’ means ‘why’ and not ‘where’?

Maybe it is. Maybe that’s what dating is about these days. If so, I’m dating me.

And I don’t want to jinx it, but it’s going pretty well.

‘Til next time,

Sig

 

Current Obsessions

IMG_20150405_123206 - CopyIMG_20150405_115636IMG_20150405_120103 - CopyIMG_20150405_122745 (1) - Copy

Cadbury Mini Eggs

What can I say? ‘Tis the season. That crispy sugar shell. Yes. A thousand times yes.

Gilmore Girls

I haven’t watched Gilmore Girls since it was first on telly back in the early 2000s. I’m binge-watching it from the start because, you know what? It’s pretty great. I want to live in a perpetual autumn / perpetual coffee wonderland where I too can dazzle people with my witty banter and effortless hair. It’s a sweet show, and a smart one, and I’m finding it thoroughly worth revisiting. (Side note: how had we all forgotten that Sebastian Bach was a recurring actor in this? How, I ask you?).

bach

Sally Hansen Complete Salon Manicure polishes

I love a good nail polish and I am loving these! The wide brush makes for easy application, the colours are opaque after two coats, and they come in a nice range of colours that are reasonably long wearing. Berry Important has been a staple on my nails the last few months.

My planner

I’m a busy person. Last year I struggled to keep everything organised and I was the queen of double booking and forgetting when things (like… bills, for example) were due. This year I am making sure I am super organised thanks to my big ol’ planner. I’m very visual and a bit old school, so having a physical planner works for me. I have a red Debden exec-style one which ran the risk of being a bit drab, but I’ve updated it with some Kikki-K dashboard accessories and some other doodads which make it my own.

Autumn colours: Mustard

Red hair and yellow anything is a precarious combo at the best of times, but I’ve latched onto this whole autumn / mustard trend revival with some Mamas and the Papas level appreciation for all the leaves being brown and the sky being grey. There is apparently just enough brown in the shade to work with my weird freckly / ginger complexion – I just wish I was whimsical enough to pull off a wide brimmed winter hat.

‘Til next time,

Sig

Nailing It

I have a slight obsession with nail polish, and in recent times I’ve been dabbling in a little bit of nail art. I really hate the weird painted-up claw you have to turn your hand into to get a good snap of your finished nails, but so it goes, I’m afraid.

Here are some of the successes that I remembered to capture in photos. The camouflage is in homage to my beloved Regimental Rollers, and I am currently sporting the R2D2 mani in preparation for May the Fourth.

IMG_20140323_124748IMG_20140425_090056IMG_20140503_143908IMG_20140215_143741IMG_20140425_085958 (1)  IMG_20140425_085856IMG_20140315_120554  IMG_20140420_083416

 

‘Til next time,

Sig

 

Easter

The Easter long weekend seems like an appropriate time to stage some sort of comeback. I’m told it’s the done thing (if you’re into that sort of thing), so check it out – my blog lives.

I wasn’t in a good place when I ditched my 100 Happy Days project in the ninth week. It wasn’t me at my best. But I’ve missed writing my weekly blog posts, happy or otherwise, so here we go again.

I’ve had one of the nicest Easter weekends I can remember, and it’s due in no small part to the alarming volume of chocolate I have consumed. I also spent time with some of my favourite people and aced my Easter bunny manicure attempt, so it’s not all about the cocoa. (Except that it kind of is).

My amazing friend Jessy threw the most impressive Easter high tea for the girls, and it was a little slice of girly luxury, and I want to do it every year. Jessy is one of the most creative and talented people I know, with such a keen eye for the small details that she should be a party planner. For realsies. Check out her instagram feed for all things nice. And a few snaps of my own below:

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In other news since we last spoke, things have been pretty peachy as far as roller derby goes. I survived my first two bouts, which were hugely nerve-wracking but lots of fun. I’m not sure how much I contributed overall – apart from looking like a deer in headlights and swearing loudly at myself every time I did something wrong – but you have to start somewhere. Here’s a quick photographic summary to bring you up to speed:

IMG_20140224_221224 IMG_20140315_164325 IMG_20140315_164409   IMG_20140417_230208 IMG_20140421_132107IMG_20140330_150540IMG_20140421_134025IMG_20140412_224527

‘Til next time,

Sig