Laughing all the way to the Bank.

Temp assignment with The Plastic Surgeon is now over. It was a gas, but a little too upmarket for my sensibilities; I like to smile sometimes, yo.

Finished my second interview for an IVF clinic's andrology department. That's right, folks. Sperm. SPERM. I sincerely hope I get the job... not for the sperm, but for the rad pay, rad staff, rad conditions. I just can't escape the fluids! And it still makes me LOL!

Will keep you posted on my progress.

Tittehs

So I got myself a new temp-to-permanent job as a secretary and practice manager for a cosmetic/plastic/reconstructive surgeon. I'm on an intense full-time easing-in temp schedule, but it's the best job I could've hoped for; early this week I may be looking in on a breast augmentation, and the week after maybe a post-mastectomy breast reconstruction. I've yet to meet the Doctor I'm working for, but from all accounts he seems to be decent, with minimal God-complex. His wife is the current practice manager and doesn't have any record in the system of having had any cosmetic work done, which says a lot. Although he is known more as a cosmetic surgeon, he does an equal amount of work with elderly lesions, cancers, hands, reconstructions and worker's compensation patients, if not more, which is pretty cool.

I've been given a lot of literature to read over the weekend to better get my head around operating procedure, as well as appropriate administration procedure for the surgery. I'm surprised at how easily I've absorbed everything, and it probably has a lot to do with the fact(s) that; a)I was going insane at home, dwelling on my unemployment; b)I love learning about medicine and science when it's not in a school environment, and; c)I really want to keep this job and understand that I need to prove myself above and beyond their expectations during the temp period of roughly 1 month. I also get to do debt-collecting (no kneecapping -- I asked), autoclave sterilisation, and quoting private cosmetic patients. RAD.

I have claimed a Size C implant as my very own paperweight at work, and it fills me with glee to see it and know it is mine. I've posted a couple pics for you to see what I get all day -- and FYI, when it's cross-sectioned, it feels like the inside of a Turkish Delight. Mmmmm.

The downside of it all is that I've had to spend a small fortune fixing myself to look appropriate for the position. Suits, haircolour, jewellery, nails, blah blah blah. Now I don't mind getting dolled up for a specific occasion but I was very comfortable dealing with doctors and labstaff in my jeans and a hoodie, so this in itself is quite a seachange for me. I haven't had jet-black hair since early highschool and now feel like a charred goth, my feet are aching from walking in heels, and my ears feel droopy from clunky earrings. My bottom lip feels bizarre having removed my labret for the job, so I'm always tonguing it when nobody's looking. I've had my fun with that anyway, so it wasn't a bad thing getting rid of it. Eh. Despite all that whinging, I have to admit that I feel a lot more serious about my career, so it's not like it's all a bad thing.

With having taken on a new full-time position, I've had to send Charli to childcare. This is more traumatic on me, apparently, since she's busy becoming a ladeh. She spent Thursday and Friday with Grandma and Mat, and has been so keen on the idea of going to "school" this week coming up that she has not wanted a bar of me. She's growing up so fast, it's sort of depressing. Mat and I visited her carer for the first time this morning and she was quite pleasant and seems like the kind of lady I'd like to have look after Chuck while I work. I guess life has to change sometimes to move forward, and I certainly don't want us getting stagnant.

On another note, I had another shoot a little while ago - I should get the proofs this week and if the photographer has kindly sent along his release form, then I may be able to publish them soon. I have to admit that while the photographer was totally legit and professional, I was nowhere near as comfortable with this shoot as I was with Cat O' Nine Tails, and I truly believe it's a gender thing - sorry. It was a studio shoot and the most horrible weather, so it immediately felt extremely sterile and timed. Eh, that's life.

Oh! And I'm seeing Pearl Jam/Kings Of Leon this Tuesday night -- WEEEEE! Tony T, I know you don't approve but ahldowhaahwon!

So that's where I leave this post for now. Let me know where you're all at and I'll slap you on if you're a decent read or you were on my previous blogroll(s).

Big furious-implant-pokey love,
Rin

PS. That implant-poking photo... hectic -- that thing is bigger than my face.
PS2. That last picture is our kitten, Burger. He's a camerashy little homosexual cat who mauls men randomly and has an ex-teste flap that now looks like hairy flesh cabbage. He's the radness.

So I should think about not moving around so much both online AND offline

Life in Hornsby is great; I’ve moved in successfully and have found my ‘routine’. There are only a few boxes left, to be shifted to the garage during twilight hours so I’m not lugging stuff around with my daughter Charlotte running haphazardly around me.

I’m without the Internet because I resigned from my job and have since acquired so many debts that the Internet is the least of my worries. I left because… well, you only have to read a few of Nailpolishblues’ work-related entries to realise how vile some of the characters can be. Eh.

Actually, being without the Internet has been quite liberating. I’m completely besotted with the age Charli is at now and I’m loving taking her out and having adventures with her. We’ve been sunbaking and sand-castling at Manly, we’ve touched shark eggs, stingrays and starfish at Sydney Aquarium and bought a plush orange seahorse she’s lovingly named Duncan (complete with babies Seamus, Angus and Lachlan), and wasted afternoons watching buskers at Circular Quay. When we’re not having a fully-blown adventure, we’re at the local park at least once a day for at least an hour, followed by people-watching in the street mall while I have my coffee, and she her Baskin & Robbins Cotton Candy ice-cream in a cup so she’s not chasing the drips and drops, making a wafer cone soggy.

She’s reading three-letter words like cat, pig, and dog. She knows her numbers without mistakes to 30. She’s currently struggling on ‘beautiful’ and ‘family’ – she says BYOO-fi-tull and FLAAAA-mmy. So freakin’ cute. When you ask her what she’s up to, she responds immediately with “nothing!”, no matter what she’s doing. She won’t stop talking, dancing, singing and drawing. Her favourite colour at the moment is pink, and she’s got the most unruly mop of curls I have ever seen.

I’ve lost a bit more weight as a combined result of regular and solid evening sleep, accidental exercise, and healthy eating. On a tight budget, I’m spending more on decent food that won’t make us sluggish, and I’m pre-planning meals to cook at home. Charli “helps” me make most of our meals, from steak & 2 veg to tacos, to home-made pizza (Mummy’s has anchovies) to inventing our own special pasta dish that is yet to be named, but resembles a foody rainbow.

I had my first model shoot with Cat O’ Nine Tails from Shot With Desire two weekends ago and found it to be the most fun ever in the history of everything. We spent quite a bit of time brainstorming storyboards, then ended up doing an empowered (and maybe a little bit crazy) axe-wielding maid theme. The amount of clothing I shed for the sake of art was reliant on Cat – her personal philosophy, her plans for Shot With Desire, her goals in life, and her sense of humour. I had a wicked-awesome shoot, and you’ll have to wait around to see how it went. I only have one photo from the shoot so far, and I am so excited to get the rest. Check Shot With Desire’s MySpace page for updates, and keep your eyes on ShotWithDesire.com, debuting soon. IMHO, it’s completely different to the common first impression of “It looks like SuicideGirls stuff” – these are sexy, smart and sassy people who know what they want in life and get it. I am absolutely honoured to be a Shot With Desire model, and extremely proud to be supporting Australian Erotica. Hot stuff.

To completely contradict all the awesome from that previous paragraph, I'd like to report a Rina-esque injury that happened about a week before the shoot. As most of you know, I've taken up knitting as a hobby to work off nervous energy as an alternative to fidgeting/smoking/drinking coffee/blogging. One evening, after a hard day with an extremely belligerent Charli, I retired to the sofa for some furious knitting action. At some point (always the way), I became distracted and went off to tend to whatever it was. When I came back, I was short one knitting needle. I looked everywhere for it, to no avail. Flopping down furiously on the sofa in a state of resigned (read = lazy) distress (read = "Fuck! Ehhh."), I landed on the elusive needle, which had somehow found its way in between the sofa cushions and positioned itself in a most dangerous angle, stabbing me in the back. There's nothing that says "Badass!" like a knitting injury. Christ, I'm so awkward. Who the hell gets stabbed with knitting needles?! On their own?!

Me, apparently.

So here’s where I wrap things up. If anyone wants to get a hold of me, email me at editor [at] scrawled [dot] org. I’m also writing again… if there’s anyone who wants snailmail, email me your snailmail address and I’ll get crackin’.

The financial wealth may be a bit out of my grasp at the moment while I get my shit together, but my personal wealth is showing no signs of slowing down. Healthy, happy, hopeful and it can only get better. I hope things are going well for those of you who found this page.

Big love,
Rin