The sign snob

DSignwriters Melbourneon’t judge me too much for this, but I’m kind of a snob when it comes to sign writers. Melbourne has some signs with pretty great different types of designs and catchy phrasing and all that, and don’t think I haven’t seen some awesome signs in my time, because I have, but you’ve got to admit, there’s a lot of bull out there.

It’s one of those things that developed pretty slowly really, my sign snobbery, I mean. It wasn’t like one day I didn’t notice them at all and then suddenly I was grading them on a bell curve, rather, I’ve always been one to notice the detail in things. It’s just the way I am. Then, for fun in university, I took a marketing course. One of the first things the marketing professor said was, and I remember this very clearly: “marketing is everywhere – all you have to do is look around you” and I don’t know why but I did. I started literally looking around me and taking into account all the signs plastered all of the place. Evaluate them. At first it was just something fun to do while on public transport, but after all this time it’s become like a little bit of a compulsive habit. Not that it’s bad or anything. Not that it bothers me, because it’s doesn’t. It’s always like a bit of a game.

When I tell people about my little game, people are often pretty confused about it, and I get some pretty weird questions. My favourite question, though, would have to be “what’s your favourite sign?” It’s not just my favourite question because I have an answer ready and waiting, but because just remembering that particular sign brings a smile to my face. It was for a car wrap company in Melbourne, and I don’t really know what it was about it that I loved so much, except to say that everything just worked together, like a tuned orchestra. It was beautiful and I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.

Tree removal saved my life

tree removalIt was my first day off from work in weeks and I was looking forward to stretching out on the couch and stuffing myself full of delivered pizza. But the kids were also home that day and they were hogging the couch, jumping all over it and screeching at their video games. I looked out the window with forlorn, wondering how I was going to unwind, but the sun was shining and there in our yard under the dappled shade of a tree, a little alcove called to me invitingly. What better way to spend some leisure time than to sit under a tree and read a book? Little did I know that the endeavour would devolve into the need for tree removal, Brisbane specialists would be coming around later that day…

You try to do the right thing, right? I thought, surely this beats sitting in front of a screen, which is what I’ve been doing at work and what I desperately need a break from. Our backyard is quite big and full of native flora, God knows the kids don’t make the most of it, what with their computers and consoles and smartphones and tablets and laptops and you get the idea. So I sit under this great big tree that has been all alone probably for years and open up my book to read. I get a few pages in, quickly engrossed, when I’m wrenched out of the story by a creaking sound from above. I look up – nothing. So I keep reading when a few minutes later there it is again. I look up for the second time and I see this enormous branch tumbling down towards me. I duck and miss the darn thing. Almost got my head caved in by a mega-branch falling from above.

I later realised the tree was full of white ant. I would have to call up a company for tree felling. Brisbane has professional services for tree removal that would give us peace of mind. Wouldn’t want any more branches falling on my head – or the kids’ if they ever do get out.

Dad’s work trips

I’m notLorne Accommodation going to lie, there are a lot of things that really suck about having a dad who travels a lot. When he’s not there during the weekend and you’re having a freakout over some really important issue or other then you don’t get the level-headed benefit of his overwhelmingly sound advice. Or when your bike’s broken there’s really no one who can fix it. He misses out on all the small stuff, and as a result your relationship suffers and he knows that. Which leads to one of the perks of having a dad who travels: sometimes, he takes you with him.

Not just you either (that would be kind of mean to your mum) but your whole family. Like when we went to Lorne for the long weekend. Dad was at some business thing or other down that way, so we got booked up at some hotel in Lorne, with luxury accommodation that the rest of you mere mortals can only dream of. We got a day off school and a mini-holiday that we weren’t expecting at all (well, mum may have been, but me and Chris had no idea). At the same time, the most amazing conference venues in Victoria were actually in the same building we were staying in, so we actually got to spend a ton of time with dad. Obviously, we couldn’t go into the conference venues with dad (trust me, me and Chris tried) but it was pretty awesome just exploring Lorne on our own.

It was really cool going to the Great Ocean Road for a mini holiday, but personally, I hope we get to go somewhere overseas for Easter. Last year we spent the winter holidays in China and that was crazy. I’d love to do something like that again. So even though it sucks when dad goes away, it’s pretty freaking cool when we get to go with him.

I hope he understands the tree lopping

tree lopping MelbourneI need to get rid of the blasted tree but everything that I have tried so far has failed. I don’t know what to else I can do. I have tried to get rid of it through every means that I can possibly think of. I think that I will just have to give up and let this tree stay where it is. It is barely surviving and the people that I had over for dinner the other day said that it was on its last legs. They suggested that I get rid of it before it becomes a hazard to my home. I don’t want to risk branches falling on my room during a storm. If my son is playing in the backyard when a branch falls that could be a disaster. I would never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to him. I will have to call up the experts; and that is what I will do. I’ll have to make sure that the best stump grinding Melbourne has to offer is ready to help me be done with this tree. That tree won’t know what hit it. It will be like some sort of surprise attack came up in the middle of the night and took it down.

I hope that my son isn’t going to get too mad at me for getting the land clearing crew involved. He adores that big tree but I am really only doing what’s best for him. I doubt he’ll thank me for it, but I don’t expect him to. In fact I would like it better if he never knew the little things that I do for him. As a parent you have to do what it takes to put food on the table. I don’t want him to get the wrong impression of me. I am a giving and a loving parent and that’s all he needs to know. I will give the Melbourne tree felling company the respect that they deserve. I might even get them to cut down another suspect tree at the front of the house. Whether I have the money to have this done is another story altogether.

I loved cleaning… until one fateful day

commercial scrubberI always thought I liked cleaning, that was until I embarked on the cleanup task to end all cleanup tasks. I’m one of those people who get antsy when there are dirty dishes in the sink, and I get a sick satisfaction out of scrubbing the bathroom tiles ‘til they sparkle. But when my partner and I decided to buy an old, long-unused warehouse, the cleanup task almost got the better of me…

We were planning on converting the warehouse into a Melbourne art gallery with a modern post-industrial design. And, ambitiously, we were planning on doing it all ourselves. What we didn’t realise at the time is that we’d be needing industrial-grade equipment like, to start with, a commercial floor scrubber. We started off by innocently hand-sweeping the place to get rid of all the dirt, dust and chunks of plaster which had flaked off the ceiling. Once this was gone, instead of smiling with relief, we grimaced in horror – there was a layer of thick, coagulated grime underneath. We got onto our hands and knees with scrubbing brushes but it was no use – an hour in our arms already ached and we’d barely scratched the surface. We didn’t really know about such things as commercial and industrial floor cleaning machines, but the guy in the neighbouring shop who was having a quiet giggle at our expense came over and told us about these machines. He’d used one at his previous business to clean the floors. So we ended up getting a commercial floor scrubber. Melbourne companies let you hire as well as buy, which was a relief for us because we wanted to save some dosh.

That was just the beginning of the epic clean up job which was to ensue. We had to scrape cobwebs from the ceiling, replaster the walls, and wash the windows with industrial-grade cleaning products. I did get that familiar sense of satisfaction when the job was done though, because we were one step closer to our dream of running a gallery.

Ice-Skating Lightweight…

ice-skatingIt’s funny how when you’re ill, you completely forget what it’s like to be healthy. Then when you’re healthy again you forget what it was like being ill. It’d help a lot with empathy if we could just conjure up that feeling.

Personally, I think I picked up this cold from ice skating. Or rather, I had a cold, went ice skating and it just got a whole lot worse. Not too smart, I know. Yeah, I need to learn to look after myself, but it’s really hard when you’ve just discovered a completely new sport and it’s dominating your life. Who knew there was so much ice skating in Melbourne? That stuff is the bomb; kind of makes me wish I’d grown up ice skating so I could be one of those regulars who stays well away from all the new people and performs all the aerial pirouettes. One day, that’ll be me.

But I’m still a lightweight, it would seem. A few sessions of finding my skate legs and I’m already sniffling. I know, it’s cold and all that…you’re skating on ice. I still think I could be out there, but I don’t think a cold environment is really what I need at the moment. Although, if I invest in some really good winter gear…I mean, it’s not like you’re skating around in Antarctica. Ice skating rinks are not sub-zero temperatures, because it’s not quite the same as skating on a frozen lake. Actually, updated life goals: go skating on a frozen lake. There’s probably somewhere in America you can do that, but for now I’ll have to settle for regular old ice skating rinks. Honestly, I want to be a bit better at this whole ice skating gig before I take on the big leagues. And that’s the thing about ice skating in Australia: no danger of falling through and getting something worse than a cold.

-Leela

Planning a Party on My Deathbed

partySleepy in the morning, wide awake at night. The human body always find ways to make us miserable. Got a hot date? Here’s some kind of blemish that seems to swallow your whole face! Available for a limited time only! Yeah, until your date is over. Feels like such a betrayal. And then when you’re recovering from a nasty virus that made you get the snivels for like, three whole days, you’re asked to plan a birthday party. Because we can’t just find some birthday party venue around Melbourne and ask them to pick up a cake? Maybe shove some party pies in the oven? No, of course not.

I still have my snivels, so you’d think my parents would have pity and excuse me from the proceedings so that I can lie in bed, resting and recuperating. That way I can give my full attention to when the party actually rolls around- plus nobody wants me sniffing and blowing my nose all over the party decorations, and least of all the food. All these kids are going to talk away with the sniffles, and I can tell you now it’s not going to be my fault. I tried to save them, I’ll tell the parents. I tried my hardest, but it was the wish of the overlords that I get stuck in making decorations and purchasing small sausage rolls to be heated on the day. Now, even the innocent denizens of the supermarket are at risk of infection. This plague will spread until everyone has the sniffles in all of Australia, and we shall be known as the nation of sniffles forever and ever. Our flag will just be a picture of a dripping nose.

And I’m supposed to be looking for kids party venues. Well, the main comfort I glean from that is that they often have other fun stuff for kids to do, like ice skating and…mini golf? Maybe not inside. Anyway, the kids will be off doing stuff and away from my sickness. My devastating, contagious sickness.

-Allie

My vintage garage

photo booth hire near melbourneI’ve always had an obsession with the 1950s. I dunno what it is about that decade that I’m so drawn to. It may have started when I saw the movie Rebel Without a Cause. James Dean was so cool with his grease-slicked hair and bad boy attitude. Then of course there’s the beautiful Natalie Wood and the iconic 1950s drag cars. Ever since then I’ve watched every film from the period and even started collecting 1950s memorabilia. My garage was slowly filling with useless antiques when my husband suggested we turn it into a retro themed space.

We created our vintage garage with inspiration from American diners and dance halls. It’s decked out with chequered flooring, has a bar with squeaky vinyl seats and the walls are covered in celebrity portraits. My favourite thing about the room is the old photo booth that we bought from a Melbourne photo booth hire company. It was a really old one that they didn’t need anymore and decided to put up for auction – we got it for a really good price! In addition to the old mint green photo boot, I’m hoping to get a jukebox for the corner. It would be really cool to have a dance when our friends come over.

The only problem with the photo booth is that the photos aren’t very good quality. I’m wondering if I can find a repair guy who can fix a photo booth near Melbourne. Other than that it is such a quirky and charming addition to the room. I love hanging out in the garage sipping a bailey’s infused milkshake and surrounded by the faint musk of old thing like you get in an antique shop. It always give me a toasty feeling of nostalgia, even though I was born well after the 50s. My connection to that period is so strong that I wonder if I lived through it in a past life or something.

Dating Apps and Digital Antennas

satelliteI never thought I’d be the type to use dating apps, but…they’ve gotten a lot more fun since the last time I tried them out. The one I’m using right now lets you play games with a potential match, so you can eventually see what they’re into. In fact, I have a few apps on the go. One of them matches you up depending on what kind of movies you like to watch. Another one I just started yesterday takes all your VisageTome posts and tries to find you a partner with approximately the same level of grammar and sophistication. Not so sure about that one.

Probably my favourite so far has been ‘Radar’, which actually uses satellite dishes to divine the stuff you like to watch on TV. I’ve checked with people who do digital antenna installation around Melbourne and they said that this kind of thing isn’t illegal, strictly speaking. The information gathered is public domain, apparently. Going to look into that a bit more…but the results from the antenna scan have been interesting. Apparently there are at least five potential partners in my area who are well into the idea of Dre-Devil, the comic book TV show about a man fighting for control of the headphone market in the dank underbelly of New York. I never knew so many other people could be into a series so insular, but it gives me hope that at least someone shares my potential interests. Here I was thinking Dre-Devil was only beloved by a select, comic-book loving portions of the internet. And now I have an actual, honest to goodness dating app that reveals all of this pertinent information. Thanks, digital television antennas! Melbourne is just full of potential matches for me after all. Well, maybe. It’s yet to be determined if they actually have the chops to keep up with me. I have very high standards, after all.

-Matt

My Spy Career is Over

name badgesI could’ve been a spy. I’m really that good at infiltration and espionage in general. I’ve seen all the movies and I’ve incorporated all of their techniques into my repertoire. I’ve taken self-defence classes, I was pretty good one that one time I went to a firing range and I’m really good at sneaking up on people. My improv isn’t too bad either.

Thing is, I don’t think I was really born into that line of work. For one thing, my parents owned a supermarket, and they notably didn’t teach me to be a cold-blooded killer from birth. I feel like that sort of thing would be necessary. Also, I started working at the supermarket and they made me wear a company name badge. Sure, the extra bit of pocket money was great, but everyone could look at my name badge and see who I really was. A couple of times I tried to use someone else’s name tag, but I often worked when Mum was the boss and she’d tell me to stop being stupid. Great, so now the whole world knows my name because it’s right on my name badge in bold letters. As we all know, having a visible name is not a great start to being a spy.

I suppose if I took on a new name, that would work. But my past would be easy to trace, and then they’d come after my parents and burn my house down and then I’d return from my spy work and find my family home in ashes and then I’d be devastated. That day would be a real bummer, and then I’d be either distracted from my spy work or so angry I have to go after the Russian mobsters who did this and it’d be a roaring rampage of revenge in which everybody would be the loser. All because I had to wear a name badge.

Sure, staff name badges can work great…but what if people want to be spies? Have they considered that? Identities are precious!

-Not Harry

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