Speaking of muses ...

... my last post reminded me to spend a little time committing the actions of a mysterious benefactor to (electronic) paper.

But first a little background: My 'regular' readers will know that I am the proud owner of one slightly neglected scooter (it has been downgraded from 'love of my life' to 'weekend fling' since I resumed public transport commuting unfortunately ... it's not you, it's me). When i've finished using it for the day I park the aforementioned scoot on the sidewalk next to my house, bid it goodnight, remind it not to get nicked and then go indoors.

For the last nine months (on and off) however, I have been dancing a curious dance with a complete stranger, in which my unwitting scoot has played a rather pivotal role. Early this year I went out to my scoot in the morning, and saw a 5c coin on the seat. Assuming some community-minded individual had picked it up off the ground and left it there for whoever dropped it, I put it on the ground and carried on my way. The next day it was there on the seat again and I, getting a tad peeved that the community-minded individual clearly thought it was my 5c, put it on the ground again.

The next day, the coin was there again. And it was only then that I looked closer and realised that it was a 10c coin, not the 5c originally left. Being, at the time, on the subsistence wages of a university lecturer, I thought, 'right, finders keepers', popped it in my pocket and forgot about it ... until the next morning when a 5c coin was again sitting on the seat of my scoot.

This routine of 5c and 10c coins turning up on the seat of my scoot continued for a week or so, until I mentioned it to my partner, who pointed out that it wasn't particularly normal for scooters to spontaneously generate Australian currency and offered forth some rather interesting conspiracy theories. Amongst other amusing options, these included the possibility that someone was planning on stealing my bike and was paying it off 5c and 10c at a time.



Whatever the rationale, the money kept coming, and I kept putting it in my pocket. After a few weeks it occurred to me that whoever was doing it might have developed something of a compulsion and might need a hand to break the habit (I could have let them continue indefinitely but there are faster ways for me to get rich quick). I didn't quite know what I would say in a note (humiliating or embarrassing whoever it was was the last thing I wanted to do), so I simply started putting the coins into a glass jar that I left next to my fence. A few would accumulate there over a few days and then kids/misc opportunists would clean it out. I'm not sure exactly what effect this had but after a few weeks more the coins stopped, leaving me a touch sad but with a sense of things being back in their proper place.

I thought that was the end of it but a few weeks later it started again, 5 and 10 cents at a time. It petered out after a week but it still happens every now and then.

After some months of this happening, it's not something I resent in the slightest, rather I love the thought that there is someone mysterious, mad, magical or just interesting who thinks my scooter (or me) is worthy of such affection. My very own scooter fairy. Inspiration and warm fuzzy feelings come from the strangest places ... a cheap scooter parked on sidestreet in Brunswick is one of mine.

A muse appears on the 12.01 Upfield line.

So it's been a fair while since I've written ~ during which time my Masters thesis has been finally finished, printed, bound and lovingly placed on a shelf never to be opened again.

I have also got thoroughly jack of being a university lecturer, so (never one to wallow and whinge more than strictly necessary or pleasurable) I have got a new job that will give me magnificent karma and very little pay. It starts in 6 weeks' time and is part of the reason that I am writing again, as it will involve me becoming 'exclusive' with my first love; public transport.

Yep, me and the Upfield line and the St Kilda Road tram will be becoming intimate over the next while ~ and in my own perverse nerdy way I am looking forward to it.

It's funny how things go full circle really ~ this blog was started way back in the day (May 2004 for anyone who is impressed by such things) as a way to record my observations of the myriad weird and wonderful people that I saw on my daily commute. Somewhere along the way I got a scooter which drastically altered the purpose of the blog, and Blogger got all fancy with photos and video capabilities etc. While multimedia fanciness is a lurvely thing, one of its effects has been to make me a little lazy in the writing department; relying on visual gags and bitchy comments rather than rich description and simple appreciation of difference in all its glory.

So, it seems strangely fitting that, as I am about to re-enter another public transport phase, the most magnificent muse should appear before me on the 12.01 Upfield line on the way into work today.

She got on a stop after I did, which allowed me to fully appreciate her exquisite uniqueness as she walked purposefully in my direction. One might say that her most distinctive feature was an oversize orange felt hat that Robin Hood might wear if he was observing 'take the piss out of your usual headgear day'. But 'distinctive' is a relative term when you consider that this was offset by a muted strawberry bag, and bright yellow leggings overlaid on vivid black and white striped tights. Most people would look seriously silly in this kind of ensemble but she looked fantastic and carried if off beautifully ~ the fact that she was drop dead gorgeous and of some sort of Asian descent (Thai or Burmese at a very uneducated stab) no doubt helped.

Anyhoo ~ she walked purposefully past me and straight out the door of the carriage. I assumed she was heading into the next one but she stopped and stood on the little platform between the carriages as the train rolled along. She was staring out at the world going by and I thought for one horrible moment that she was thinking about jumping off ~ but to my absolute relief and immense pleasure she started singing.

I was one of the few people facing in her direction so I found myself staring, entranced, at this young woman (mid-20s perhaps) standing between two train carriages, singing to herself and the world while looking completely, indisputably happy.

It occured to me while watching her that many people surveying the scene would assume she was in some way imbalanced ~ which tempered my smile just a tad because of the inference that it takes a mental illness to be prepared to express yourself with such simple beauty; honestly and without fear of judgement. If this is truly the case then my worries for the world are even more so after reflecting on this.

The cynic in me checked for the ubiquitous white earphones that seem to come with any commuter under 40 these days but there was nothing, she was just singing to herself and appreciating the view from the slightly gritty perspective of a surburban commuter train. Watching her sing in silence (I couldn't hear anything) was one of those rare experiences that makes you feel all uncool and mushy ~ one of those infectious joy kind of deals.


One of the reasons that I am leaving my current job as a lecturer is that I am finding myself becoming just a touch cynical about it ~ and that's not the kind of person I want to be ~ I want to be the kind of person that is entranced by uninhibited people singing on the train and who finds beauty in the everyday. Unbearably cliched and mushy I know but hey, I guess someone's gotta do it.

Over n' out :-)

High tech warfare.

This is the logo from an item of hand luggage that I bought in Koh Samui a year ago for $20. It has been extremely handy, having travelled to the UK, France, Singapore and New Zealand since then - it even survived being 'misplaced' en route to London (thanks Emirates!) and seems to cheerfully handle the ongoing trials and tribulations involved in being an international bag of mystery.

I credit this value for money and all round robustness to the fact that it is called 'Combat'. It is clearly a high tech, cutting edge, hardcore item of luggage of mass destruction - something the logo leaves the viewer in no doubt about.


Yay for incongruous branding - it makes life that little bit brighter :-)

Bad hair transcends all politics.

While watching TV last night I had the pleasure of watching an interview on a current affairs show 'Lateline'. The interview in itself was unremarkable - a 15 minute 'hard news' interview with Labeed Abbawi, Deputy Foreign Minister of Iraq - 15 minutes of tedious and predictable proportions.

What WAS impressive, however, was the combination of:

• A windy day
• A fabulous 'comb-over'
• Mr Abbawi's stoic refusal to acknowledge that he was in the midst of a hair crisis of monumental, nationwide, televised proportions.

Had me and the missus in hysterics for its duration.

Giddy up baybee

Well, will you look at that - mid-February 2007 was hiding behind my bedroom door and has just leapt out and whacked me on the head. Sneaky beggar.

Soooo - to continue with the pre-xmas theme on the joys of Singapore I would like to introduce my non-Asian readers to an amazing gadget that I was priviedged to see demonstrated on Orchard Road in Singapore in December: The iGallop.


This mind-boggling device is promoted as an 'exercise' machine - but, if we were all to stop beating around the bush (if you'll excuse the expression) it would perhaps be most appropriate on display at the Melbourne Sexpo. Methinks perhaps as well, that the target market for this particular exercise fad is husbands buying them for their wives - can't imagine why.

For your viewing pleasure I have included a video of the Chinese ads for it - which are more to the, ahem, 'point' than the uber cheesy and serious singaporean ones (also included below for comparison) - I know which ad would motivate me to buy it more. And I am not even going to ask what is going on in her pants in the Chinese ad :-s

I have also included a suggestion of a more appropriate use for the iGallop at the bottom - as ably demonstrated by Salad the Cat ... and yes, I promise I won't be posting 3 videos every time, am just excited by finally figuring out how to do it.

Merry mutant!

I thought I should perhaps make at least a cursory nod to the festive season, seeing as I have been accused of being somewhat 'bah humbug-ish' this year.

So - here goes.

May I present a festive illustration from the side of the 'Luxury Christmas Crackers' that set me back $3.50* in the Footscray 'misc-crap-that-you-really-have-to-have' store. These luxury babies were Australian themed and made in Indonesia.

Now far be it from me to cast aspersions as to the typical Indonesian christmas cracker illustrator's knowledge of Australia's indigenous animals, or Australia in general for that matter ... but my guests and I were reasonably certain that Australian Emus don't have four legs ... although possibly the Indonesian ones do?



The map of Australia on the box also had dinosaurs in Western Australia - but we thought best not to be too pedantic at xmas ... in fact, from what I understand, the addition of a few dinosaurs could potentially be a significant improvement for WA ... perhaps they should seek the advice from the makers of my xmas crackers?

Merry festiveness y'all ;-)


*And no, I didn't win even one of the crackers I pulled.
Sympathy donations can be made to www.saveastarvinglecturer.com

Culinary highlights of Singapore.

While in Singapore I had lunch and went for a wander around the Bugis Street market with a mate/colleague of mine, the indomitable Mr Tezza who was teaching there at the same time as me. Mr Tezza is an ex-pat Singapore boy himself although he is similar to me, insofar as that he has been away long enough from his 'homeland' to lose track of which places are good to go to, what is 'so hot right now' etc etc.

One of the things he hasn't forgotten about, however, are the joys of a peculiarly Singaporean dish - one that he vividly remembers from his childhood, back in the days even before he had managed to misspend his youth.

It is a simple dish, involving two, equally healthy, ingredients (hunk of icecream + multicoloured bread). It costs around 80 cents Singaporean and can only be bought from little old men standing at mobile icecream stands. In the interests of cross-cultural understanding I of course had to try for myself...

My verdict?

It rocks.

It looks like this.



That is all.

The power of bun!

Back in Melbourne town now - settling back in and answering approximately 4.26 million emails per day from the lovely but occasionally confused students that I was teaching in Singapore.

Thought I'd post up another memento of my Singapore sojourn, this one from the food kiosk outside the Underwater World on Sentosa 'Island'. The Underwater World itself wasn't too bad but the sign below was what impressed me most - never underestimate the power of bun!

Useful signage.

Just a quickie, so to speak, for this post.

This is a picture snapped on Thursday while boarding the free bus that takes tourists around Sentosa 'Island'. Sentosa is a rather curious tourist trap, literally 300 metres away from Singapore, that includes a 'magical musical fountain' and large ugly statue of a MerLion (some sort of mythical concrete animal mostly sighted in its natural habitat of Singaporean corporate logos), resplendent with mobile phone receiver sticking from the top of its head.



Not sure if this sign is any relation to the nightclub concept of a 'door whore' but it made the bus trip, while crammed in with approximately 3.2 million pushy Indian tourists, that little bit more pleasant :-)

Ouch.

I spotted this little gem on one of the advertising boards in the underpass that goes under Orchard Road, the main shopping strip in Singapore. It was next to the ads for the Singaporean army, which I am hoping was just a coincidence.

They've really hit the nail on the head with this one - I can think of no more appropriate image to illustrate a Brazilian waxing service than that of a woman doubled over and looking pained.



But wait, there's more.

Not only will it make you double over in pain, it brings out the women - yes, more than one - in you. Whatever exorbitant price they're charging is a bargain when you think about it that way.

Ultimate toast.

Right, horror quantitative data analysis lecture dead and buried so must be time to get back to posting.

To continue with the food theme, I thought I would showcase this fabulous advertising poster from a cafe at the 'Far East' shopping mall on Tuesday. With a sales pitch like this who could resist*???



*Well, me actually.

Big sheet (spicy flavour)!

Hello again - yes, tis' I, your sporadic [spasmodic?] blogger.

This time I'm in Singapore, teaching at a Singaporean University, attempting to perform minor miracles by teaching a semester-long course in two weeks. Stress-free zone all the way baby!

So - in the interests of retaining my sanity while attempting to conjure up a lecture on frequency distributions (amongst other equally enthralling topics) I thought I would resort to some juvenile humour.

Ladies and Gentleman, may I present the newest taste sensation - the 'Big Sheet' [only ever to be pronounced with a strong Australian accent] 'Tasty Sea' snack - now in new Spicy Flavour.

As you can see from this shot I couldn't wait to try it before taking a pic for the blog. Was indeed a big spicy sheet - a most tasty sea that was easily delicious.

Contains graphic airline scenes.

I used to think that New Zealand led the world in the 'she'll be right' attitude towards potentially dodgy or dangerous situations - the Vietnamese attitude towards powerlines (amongst other things) made me realise, however, that various places excel at upholding amusingly dodgy standards depending on the situation and their various dodgy specialities.

An example: on a recent trip back to NZ to show my new partner around the land of the long white cloud (and engage in a little healthy Aussie bashing for good measure) we took Air NZ from Melbourne to Auckland, and then Qantas from Auckland to Melbourne.

On the way there, I flicked through the in-flight entertainment schedule, which included the following warning in relation to the movie Superman Returns:



It always used to amaze me when in-flight news programs included extensive footage of the most recent plane crash etc etc so this seemed a slightly over zealous but still worthwhile thing to note.

On the way back, however, Qantas treated me to an in-flight screening of their featured film - Oliver Stone's 'World Trade Center' - 129 minutes of September 11-themed feature film - an entertaining contrast.

She'll be right mate!

Those who know me (and let's face it, there are only 1.3 people who actually read my blog so we're talking about all readers here) will know that I am a scooter enthusiast.

You may remember my scooter exploits from such memorable and enthralling postings as 'my first scoot' and 'the joys of scooting'. At the moment, however, I am 'in between' scoots - not cos' of an accident (for a change) but because I am upgrading to something a leetle zippier (but only a leetle).

As a result I have returned to the joys of public transport and scabbing lifts off my partner ... in truth mostly the latter, given how innately lazy passionate about car-pooling and efficient use of resources I am.

This morning we were heading through the city and I was preparing to do my stunt dive through the traffic (necessary in order to be dropped off without getting rear ended by nasty commuters) when we were overtaken by a guy on a motorbike.

I always check out fellow bikers, I guess I'm curious to see who else is as mad as me to risk life and limb on a daily basis in the city traffic ... but this guy was in a league of his own I have to say.

Would hate to cast aspersions as to how he may have injured himself, but anyone looney brave enough to ride a motorbike while needing to bring along a crutch for the subsequent walking bit (it was strapped across the back and sticking out either side so as to conveniently swipe any pedestrian who got in his way) has balls the size of Pluto.

Helmets off to you my friend, helmets off.

Soak or stoke - your call.

Was riding up one of the main streets in the CBD yesterday and, while waiting at the lights, was a little bemused to see a microcosm of the world today played out before me.

A rubbish bin had substantial amounts of smoke billowing from its top and a young male tourist was wandering nervously around it. He peered in the top and walked off a short way to the pedestrian crossing, then came back and peered in again, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to it (which they weren't) or sorting it out (ditto).

He then poured his bottle of water into the bin, in an attempt to put out the fire, and walked again towards the pedestrian crossing, looking back to see if it had had any effect (it hadn't). He was clearly reluctant to leave the fire unattended.

As he was doing this a woman in her power suit strode past the smouldering bin and threw in several large pieces of paper ... no doubt on her way to somewhere very busy and important.

Yay for oztraylian humour.

As a card-carrying Aussie basher (who is quite happy to live here, work here, use the health system etc etc), it is a rare occasion when I give a 'shout out' [note hip street slang usage applied only slightly incorrectly] to Australians for anything.

But credit where credit's due - for the fabulous minds that came up with the name of the latest entrant to the competitive bottled water market here. And yes, of course I fell for it and bought it just cos' of the name.

Our most popular menu item...

Hmmm, it seems that, since returning to semi-regular blogging duties, the focus has been largely on R13-rated engrish specimens. This means I am either:

1. frequenting dodgier engrish venues
2. more on the lookout for examples to blog and make fun of in a juvenile manner
   
3. carrying my camera with me more often
   
4. a smut peddler who will stoop to new lows for a cheap laugh.

What the hell, let's go with option 4, in the spirit of which, I present the last item on the drinks menu at the BYO Korean restaurant I went to on Thursday night :-)

Active intent

As most of my loyal readers will be aware, my recent blogging hiatus was due to a mad dash to finish my never-ending Masters thesis (fondly referred to as 'schmesis' or 'the bane of my life').

During this time I managed to stay more or less sane (not a bad accomplishment in the world of postgrad study I'm told), despite insane stress levels, fulltime work and an average of 4-5 hours sleep a night.

This achievement did, however, come with a pricetag; namely the consumption of more junk food than one person should consume in a lifetime, spread over a two-month period. A notable component of this consumption was sufficient quantities of icecream to make me a substantial shareholder in all Australian icecream companies.

So, the schmesis is now dead and buried (thank fuck) and the waistline redemption strategy has commenced ... sort of.

Thus far, it has consisted of one visit to the gym, where I remembered why I hate it (red face, sweat and gasping anyone?).

But needs must.

So, in honour of this momentous occasion (which is clearly the beginning of my professional sporting career), I would like to post a picture of the tag from an item of clothing I bought a while back. The logo was the only reason I bought it and I think it sums up my attitude towards exercise beautifully ... and what better brand name could you possibly come up with for a logo that shows a person sitting down?

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack.

The thesis is dead, long live online procrastination!

[Said that Hatter, returning to the world of blogging in style by posting up the business card of the fine dining establishment where she had dinner on Saturday].

For the record, the food was great.

A little gem from the Onion.

Exhibit A: Blatant attempt to distract loyal blog readers from fact that the Hatter has been inexcusably negligent on blogging front. Normal service WILL be resumed soon - promise!

Professor Pressured To Sleep With Student For Good Course Evaluation

June 27, 2006 | Issue 42•26

FAYETTEVILLE, AR—Alan Gilchrist, an associate professor of English literature at the University of Arkansas infamous for his tough grading standards and dry lecturing style, was coerced into sleeping with an undergraduate on Monday in order to earn a good course evaluation. "My tenure's on the line here, so I allowed a student to take advantage of me," said an emotional Gilchrist of the experience, which he hopes will earn him at least six "very much enjoyed" responses on the eight-item evaluation form. "I told myself it would be just this once, and that it would be over soon, and that it wouldn't be that bad, but I was used. And I can't stop showering." Sources said that the unidentified student is one of the most popular and charismatic on campus, raising questions about possible abuse of power.