Also I have been in this town for five years now. I meant to post something about it, but I was some kind of slug-like creature and got distracted by watching most of the episodes of Futurama.

Also one of several projects, which I refuse to give any details about, has moved ahead slightly, meaning that I might need to ask for more people to become involved.

I know that by “taking a break” I might not be able to post as much as I like, despite the fact that the “Updated Weekly, Sometime More. Sometimes Less” on the right there, should be more of a rule and less like something I completely ignore.

So I’ll conclude with another paste up from Abyss.

My whole Christmas thing is nearly over. All my shit got sorted out last weekend, meaning I’m not really expecting or expected to do anything except turn up and not embarrass myself or others. Sounds simple.

I’m just wondering what to do next. Normally, when I consider writing another blog post, it’s midnight and I have a truckload of work to do the next day. One problem is not having enough time and fighting the future for it, and the other problem is when you have too much time and then you get to thinking…and that’s when the really trouble begins.

So here’s a list of things I have been up to, without going into too much detail

- Fix a fallen over enterprise backup system
- Fall of my bike and injure myself enough to be concerned about the lump it left behind.
- Go to the CRDL Roller Derby Finals and write a blog post about it and never published it.
- Write scripts for the Beginnings Anthology and fail to get them within the required page length.
- Take care of a co-workers fish and not kill it, so far.
- Miss a friend’s birthday.
- Bought some art from Ben Newman
- Reminisce about my trip to Japan and not publish what I wrote.
- Gain a new book case, but fail to fill it, despite the boxes of books I have lying around.
- Scan in a stack of my drawings to play around with the drawing tablet.

That’s about it.

I’ll write more about the more interesting things a little later.

Some notes #1 & #2 by Byrd. #3, #4 & #10 by Abyss.

Some notes: #4 & #5 is by Foe. #10 is by Lister. The eye tag is by Abyss. #18 – #20 is by Abyss.
(Right-click and open in a new window or tab to see the full size)

The people in Melbourne were nicer than I expected, even the homeless seemed hospitable to some degree. I expected attitudes of cynical big-city life, similar to the cynical we-think-we-live-in-a-big-city life I’ve come to expect from number of people in this town. But, I will admit I was surprised.

I stayed for a week in one of those short-stay apartments. A fully furnished kind of deal that is something of a hotel, but without so much interference from the staff. The problem was the location. While close to the city, it would have been less awkward by being on the other side of the river where the action was. There were a number of times I had to drag myself back and forth across Southbank and the River in order to leave things at the apartment and then go back in again for dinner or another appointment.

Catching up with my family was fun in the end. It was nice to see their faces once more. I also need to develop some contacts in Melbourne too. It would be nice to go back later in the year.

Just finished Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Now I know what the differences between the book and the film are now. You can read that as either good or bad.

I was interesting to be in a town that embraced street art, but there were also plenty of people that were taking photos, same as me. Got a little annoyed with that sometimes.

While I missed out on the ACT Comic Meet’s mid-month meeting, I did stumble across a illustration studio in the Atrium in Federation Square, where small human zoo of illustrators were plugging away at their work.

However, there has been a lot of biding my time, waiting for opportunities to show themselves and then taking them. There have been a couple of projects I have been working on as I am dividing my free time working on a comic book series, learning how to draw and attempting to build a social life of some description.

Firstly, with the writing, I still need to have it checked over by a couple of people to ensure that I am not completely taking the piss. And that it is a story that people would genuinely want to read as opposed to being locked up in a dungeon and forced to read it. Because that’s not allowed to happen anymore. Court order and all.

Secondly, the drawing helps to break the ice with complete strangers at parties and at the pub, which is good. But I’m not posting any of it on the web yet. Not brave enough for that. Plus its also like therapy.

Lastly, someone couldn’t believe that I did not have a FaceBook account. Well I don’t and I honestly do not see what the big deal is. I could believe that person gives out his email address, but if you’re not in his address book, your email ends automatically in his spam bin. Now that’s goddamn puzzling. The main reason I do not possess a FaceBook account is because I do not see the need for one. I have this site after all.

For the last couple of months, the team I work in has been waist-deep in a data centre move. Thousands of servers, which have to be relocated to another site. They can do this by either mirroring the server across the wire, copying it over in chunks, or picking up the box, load it into a truck and then plant it in the new data centre. Where the team and myself come in, are the backup side of things. Fortunately, I have not directly dealt with the move. That has been left to three, now two, people who are responsible for building backup servers, media libraries, backup policies and then make sure the whole damn thing works. Then while this is happening, we have a team leader that has been effectively deflecting every project manager and general time-eater from our area. I do not envy these people’s positions. Nor do I envy the person who has been trying to delegate someone to load media for us at the new site. My role has been relatively small, which is attempting to continue checking the old servers, while everything is slowly shut down. It is slow and often confusing work, as several teams are involved and the communication is all over the place. Frankly, we never had the numbers to handle the move in the first place. We would have needed clones of the entire team, to keep up with everyone and everything being thrown at us.

This is just one aspect of a data centre move. I do not know of the stories that the server teams, projects, or other groups have to speak of. But go ask anyone in IT. They will probably tell you it is shit. They are being very polite.

This is going to change soon. After a call and an email, my paperwork for a new job has arrived. By Monday, I might be signing something and then in a number of weeks I will be going to another place to perform, exactly the same kind of work I am doing now…except without dealing with a sodding data centre move, or the company i currently work for.

Another project is coming to a close soon, my time as volunteer copy-editor, and surgeon of articles is coming to a close for now. Now it’s basically waiting for the official announcement to come through so I can repeat it here.

I am drinking whiskey right now. Because I have not done so in more than a month. Because I have been waiting for one or two things to actually finish. Well, its nearly three. Its worth a drink and I am very tired.

This and work like it has cropped up near and around where I live.

This weekend I met up with a person or two to catch up about stuff. It was also Free Comic Book Day, but this years pickings didn’t interest me as much as the last year. I spent a big chunk of my Saturday at the Wig & Pen sitting trying to finish up drawings and sketches. Sometimes I get people who want to share my table and they end up looking at the sketchbooks have cart around the place. I always enjoy the reactions that I get when people look at them and the different things they like. Though, some people throw the words “artist” and “talented” at me. I guess i try to deflect this. I mostly draw to relax and meditate in a way. Honestly, I do not think that I am that good, not nearly as good as I want to be.

I don’t normally daydream or speculate what fantasy cyberpunk implants should be available to jam in my body. I really lack a desire to become more human than human. However, sitting at a pub or cafe, I sometime really wish that I had a digital camera in my eye. Mostly to just take secret pictures of people and how they dress, from the good, the bad and the plain weird. Or at the very least, a digital camera in my specs, like from Transmetropolitan.

And just so you know, I’m not posting my drawings, sketches or other art on the site yet. Not until I am satisfied with it.

Lastly, the beer in the photo is called “Lunch with the Monks”. It’s a beer that is molasses sweet. I suggest that you try it while it lasts. It’s nine percent(!), just to let you know.

After leaving that disappointing Supanova, I decided to rejoin Staples and Elmo at the Kuan-Yin for something to eat and then back to the flat for a siesta. Elmo had to drive to another friend’s place and then back home, so she parted and Staples and I took a nap.

Evening came and we both got up and rode into a sleepy suburb behind South Bank, to the location of the Turnstile. It’s a basement venue underneath someone’s house. They provide live acts, a DIY woodfire pizza station, homebrew beer and other things, all of which is donation-based. It attracts the hippie/sustainable living crowd and is generally laid back. Staples wanted to particularly go because Dana Lyons of “Cows With Guns” fame was playing. He ran through a half dozen or so song, getting the crowd involved when he needed it.

After his set we rode into the city to meet up with Kelly and Michelle, two of Staples friends. We walked through the city to Paddington. Our original intention was to sit at the Cartel Bar, but they didn’t serve food. So we parked ourselves at the Calypso, where there were some provate functions happening, one of which was clearly a birthday party, complete with high maintenance women dressed in costumes of various careers from the Slutty Universe.

We had some chip and below-average vegetarian spring rolls. We went back to the Cartel where the four of us chatted about a variety of things over beers and cider. However, when the conversation didn’t involve me, I would people-watch. There was a woman in a golden cocktail dress, holding a pink boa and every cab she tried to hail would roll on by despite the exposure of her chest and legs and the colour of her dress under the streetlights. There were several costume parties happening at once, with people dressed as police, cowboys and indians. A middle-aged man nervously parks his white SUV, running his hand over his head and hair, trying to look for someone. The two guys and two girls come out of the woodwork with on of the girls propped up by one of the men. Then he picks her up and carries her, Bodyguard-like, to the SUV with the nervous father inside. Both girls loaded inside, the SUV rolls down the narrow alleyway into the night. A short time later a large man fell down the stairs across the road in the same alley. Each step was well-worn concrete. Two guys found him and tried to help, by getting him back on his feet. An ambulance eventually arrived and after some frustrating-looking talks to the man was guided inside the ambulance and he was quietly carted away.

Two tall glasses of cider, began to make me feel full and sick. We called it a night, Staples and I fare-welled Michelle and Kelly, and then we rode back to his place. Along the way a massive crane was being installed and as the setup evolved, it blocked a major street. Couples had arguments on the sidewalks and gardens while latenight backpackers inspected maps wondering which direction to take next. Women in pleated and short skirts march down the street alone or in pairs, with shoes in hands. Young men laughing, running and wrestling in the street. Old men walking alone. And lovers sitting by the riverside in the parkland and waterfronts enjoying their open privacy.

The next morning, I help Staples iron out an intro for a new zine of his and then we hit a suitcase rummage before heading back to his place to secure my belongings, catch a cab and then ride a train back to the airport. But I am twice vexed. My ticket is stuck in my pocket and my wristwatch becomes unstuck and flung to the floor. The glass is smashed. The my train does not come until later, about twenty minutes later and I miss my intended flight. It costs me fifty lucre and five hours for the next flight. So goodbye afternoon.

Still waiting for the plane and my phone is dead.

Jack Crash