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Forgive the craziness, peoples. The return of the Gabrielle is going to be bigger, brighter, and mind-blogglingier than ever. Watch this space - the Gabrielle is coming soon to a blog near you.
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My American blog
Here, by special request, is the blog I wrote of our trip around America last year.
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� Settling in in Hollywood
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� Computers, quarters, and grumpy daughters...
(These are just the first posts, by the way; I will add more when I find time!)
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Palant�r - Chapter one
Palant�r - Chapter two
Palant�r - Chapter three
Palant�r - Chapter four
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Jul. 30, 2009 - A Working Girl at last!
Wow. Last time I posted I was simply an innocent schoolgirl – now, I am a Working Woman. How utterly grown up and prestigious. *feels important*
Not only that, but I have not one but two jobs. I am well on my way to being a workaholic career woman. *feels even more important*
Actually, I’ve been meaning to become a working woman… well, since the beginning of the year, actually. I just… uh… kept chickening out. *blushes* I’ve been wanting to work at the local newspaper Mail office for ages, and I keep meaning to go talk to them… but yes. It was writing the CV (or stressing over writing it) that distracted me for the first part of the year, and then it was going to the South Island for a bit, and then it was Mum being pregnant and having the baby and all that stress and babysitting… and, before I knew it, it was the middle of the year and I had frittered away another six months of my existence.
Of course, once I figured that out I was thoroughly freaked out and determined to do better, so I told myself that I would just go into the newspaper office to look at the archives for the newspaper since I hadn’t seen the last ad I did for Dad and wanted to know how it had turned out… and then once I was there… well, I could cross that bridge when I came to it. So after spending half an hour freaking out about what to wear (I don’t want to look dressed up… but… gah! I can’t look scruffy!) and what time to go (should I go after school hours or would that be juvenile? Would they be more relaxed and friendly after lunch?), I finally gathered my courage and got in my car, and started the engine and drove to Waipukurau and parked and got out of my car and shivered a little and looked at the building and locked up my car and then walked into the building.
I think it was right to come after lunch, because the receptionists were very friendly, and after spending far too much time looking at the archives and looking at more archives and looking up really old newspapers just to remember what exactly I did, I finally gathered my courage and walked up to a receptionist, and then she looked at me inquiringly and I had to talk.
I had decided that I couldn’t just walk up and ask for work, because after all it’s a recession and why would they want to take on more staff? But I didn’t really need the money I just wanted the experience, and once I had a foot in the door then if a job did come up then I’d be far more likely to get it, right? So I asked the nice lady who I should talk to, and she took down my name and number and told me that she was sure it could be arranged and Bruce would ring me the next day, and she didn’t bite my head off or do anything scary!
And I walked out with the hugest, stupidest smile on my face and was on a happy high for the rest of the day.
Well. I could go on and on over all the little joys and terrors of those weeks, but I shall spare you. I think you get the idea.
Anyway, the outcome of the whole fiasco was that I went in to the Mail offices for an afternoon to do a bit of work experience. It was quite fantastic, and I learnt quite a bit and got to do up a couple of ads with them and a couple on my own, and talked to people and got a bit of a feel for the system. Then I gathered my courage again and talked to them about what I wanted to do and did they think I could volunteer a couple of afternoons every week? And of course they surprised me with their sweetness and complete unscariness again (I really need to get over my being deathly afraid to ask favours) and said they’d see what they could organize, and as long as they had a computer free they would be happy to and they’d see what they could find for me.
So again I left the offices utterly elated. *grin*
Of course, it was only after that that I realized that actually it was going to be a bit of a stretch to last just doing volunteer work, and I was going to have no free cash at all. Which was, of course, just when Lucan rang and offered me his job merchandising bread.
I had no idea what that was or what it involved, but apparently the money was good so I was all ears. Apparently the bread companies don’t just sell their produce to the supermarkets like you’d expect, they actually hire space in the uh… grocery stores, sorry… and then they have to also hire their own people to keep the shelves stocked and tidy. Don’t ask me why they do it that way, because I don’t have any idea and it doesn’t seem to make any sense at all, but it was work and the pay was fantastic, so I wasn’t complaining.
The catches – I’d have to start work at 4am, and I’d have to work on weekends.
The early start didn’t really bother me – it’s all part of the experience, right? The weekends though were a problem, but when I talked to the boss he said I could do the training and if we couldn’t arrange something I could just do relieving and work on the days when the other lady is too busy, which happens a lot.
So I agreed to do the training, and Lucan was organized to take me out the next morning. It was all a bit surreal to have work just like that, after my experience with the Mail of months and months of psyching up courage and weeks and weeks of organizing and going through various bosses and finding time slots and days and days of phone calls back and forth.
Anyway, most of you know how late I normally go to bed… so after fluffing around and finding keys and clipboards and pens and setting a couple of alarms at five minute intervals just in case and tossing and turning trying to get to sleep, it was about 12:30 by the time I actually dropped off. And you know how when you know you’re going to have to get up early you never sleep very well? Yes. At about 3 I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I just dozed a bit until fourish, when I braved the cold and dragged myself out of bed.
It was weird, getting up in the dark. The house was silent and sleepy (which never happens – usually there’s someone awake somewhere in the house practically 24/7), and the streets were silent and sleepy, and being winter the sky was still utterly dark. I made myself a cup of super-concentrated coffee and sat in the dark trying to wake up until Lucan arrived.
Lucan used to work quite a bit for my dad and they would geek out about cars together and stuff, so he’s at our place heaps and he’s been over for dinner and I knew him pretty well. It’s been awesome to spend time with him, though – he’s really fun and very cheeky and has a great sense of humour. He’s been great at teaching me all the tricks of the trade, too – he gets me to do everything myself rather than just letting me watch the complicated stuff, and he’s very patient when I stuff it up, too. He’s been educating me about all the people to watch out for and suck up to, too, and all that essential workplace safety stuff.
Anyway, he’s a bit of a boy racer with a passion for racing and racing cars and going fast and zooming and serious acceleration and all that. His car is one he races on the track, so it’s all fitted out with the racing seats and racing engine and has all the normal fittings stripped (apart from the stereo, of course – he isn’t quite that dedicated), and it’s very convenient since I can hear him coming about two blocks away. It’s rather… loud.
We were taking our big MPV, though, so as to spare the neighbours a bit of noise, so we zoomed off in that. Well, zoom being a relative term – Lucan didn’t think much of the zoom after driving his car, that’s for sure. But anyway, it got us there.
I have to work three shifts and cover three supermarkets – about three hours in the morning, checking all the bread and throwing out the old stuff and recording it all and then loading up the new stuff once the truck arrives, and then two trips later on driving around and refilling the shelves and tidying it all up. There’s quite a lot to remember at first – where to take stuff and where everything goes, and we do pies and pizzas and muffins and Turkish wraps and slices and stuff too, so there’s all that to remember. There’s the practical side, too – there’s quite a bit of skill to juggling heavy trays of bread and steering the high-packed carts around the displays and up and down ramps and in and out doorways and through the mazes of boxes out back.
Driving the stacks are the most fun. They’re on little roller wheels, so no way are they easy to steer. When you go around corners you either have to speed up and give it a little spin just as you reach the corner so it flicks around and angles out, and then you can guide it in and accelerate out and zoom down the aisle. Of course, it often goes wildly off course and you’ve got to clutch at it and dig your heels in or it’ll go spinning out into the nearest display… but I haven’t had any accidents yet. Of course, you could slow down sensibly, too… but there’s no one around to crash into that time of the morning anyway, so why not go for it?
Already I am being enveloped in workplace gossip and relationships and interesting personalities. There’s the baker who unlocks the door for us when we come early, and is utterly expressionless and zoned out and just gives a sort of a grunt when you bounce up with cheerful greetings. There’s the two managers of New World, one of who is very happy and always has about a million pieces of gossip to discuss about all the supermarket workers anywhere around, and the other who has a thing about Lucan because of the boy-racer thing, and will rant about car crushing and jail sentences with great relish whenever he’s around. And then there’s Sandra, who completely ignored me the first day and sent me death glares every time I spoke and utterly freaked me out, yet now treats me perfectly friendlily. There’s the truck driver, who bounces out of his truck and goes everywhere at a run, pushing two huge stacks at once, and is generally more cheerful than anyone has a right to be that early in the morning. Apart from the silly new kid who isn’t used to it yet, of course. There’s the TipTop bread merchandiser lady, who’s really sweet and friendly and always greets me with a smile and remembered my name from the first day. There’s the grumpy manager of Waipawa NW, who keeps getting mad at me and saying I can’t work until my boss sends him a letter asking nicely if I can, and my boss who never, ever rings me when he says he will or returns any of my messages, and still hasn’t sent the jolly letter.
As you can imagine, it’s all enormous fun. It’s just amazing to be around all that… it’s like stepping into a whole new world. Yeah, sorry for the utterly pathetic and cheesily simile, but my brain is dead from all these early mornings and I’m afraid you’re not going to get anything original from me at all. But anyway, all the independence of it… meeting new people and learning new things and having so many new experiences… it’s just so cool. I’m mostly working on my own, too, with just enough interaction with other people to make it interesting without having them all over you. I’m really, really loving it, early mornings or not.
Then I’ve got a completely different experience, working for the mail – in a professional, businesslike atmosphere, with everything very technical and lots of paperwork and customer interaction, where I’m very much being trained and doing what I’m told, and I must look nice and be polite and make good impressions. And that has the whole creative side, and so, so much to learn.
The funny thing is that at the moment I think I’m enjoying the simple stacking bread more than all the design work I always wanted to do… which is utterly weird, and I expect will probably change once the novelty wears off and I start to get over the huge learning curve of the Mail. And I’m really enjoying both.
And… this post is getting huge, again, so I shall restrain. Anyway, there you have it – the working experiences of the Gaby-goose.
It’s utterly amazing how much I have discovered about myself and humanity in general through this experience – but then I always have waxed very philosophical when I’m tired, and I definitely am that. It’s actually (gasp) worse than NaNo! I’ve been going to sleep quite easily at 7pm at night, and that’s even after falling asleep on the floor and in the car and at the table and generally anytime I sit down anywhere…
Which is why I am typing this post standing up, of course.
*grin* |
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Comments
Aug. 1, 2009 - Untitled Comment
Posted by
writer4him |
Well, I made it about halfway through the post, and I'm leaving a comment. Aren't you proud of me? *cheesy smile*
Actually, all I wanted to say was that I beat you to the stacking bread job. Mwuhaha. The local grocery store would be nothing without the Maisano family. *grins*
*skips away, thoroughly proud of her comment* |
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Aug. 4, 2009 - Untitled Comment
Posted by
Jocelyndixon |
| heyyyyyyyyyyyy i haven't been here in forever!!!!!!! seem like an age since i talked to you. :) hope you're doing well. miss your comments. |
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Aug. 25, 2009 - I read it
Posted by
wildchild222 |
Ok, I read your whole post! Proud of me?
*Feels like the best friend in the world*
Heather told me you're in Wellington today. Bummer. I would have seen you at the art thing.
Your loss.
Congrats with the job. Not as good as mine though. :)
G2g work now.
*Skips away happily*
(I like using asterixes now. They're really funny) |
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The Lady
Gabrielle is brilliant, beautiful, talented, sweet and good, yet marvellously humble. Haha... No. Let's try that again...
Gabrielle has a wicked sense of humour and far too much pride for her own good. She loves to write, and has spent a good portion of her life buried in books. She loves old English literature, anything Tolkien, and well-written humour.
She loves blogging, fanfiction, and spends a good portion of her day on her computer. Pretty active, she enjoys climbing, swimming, running, and sitting up trees, yet does not enjoy most ball sports.
At sixteen, she is still far more immature than she should be and enjoys the fact far too much, yet she can be serious at times and ponders deeply on many issues. She takes her faith very seriously, and strives to make becoming like her Lord her greatest wish.
She enjoys talking about herself in the third person.
Dol Amroth
Dol Amroth was a coastal city in South Gondor. Built on a hilltop overlooking the Bay of Belfalas and crowned by Tirith Aear - the seaward tower - it was the Jewel of the Southern coasts. The Princes of Dol Amroth were prominent in Gondor and ruled much of the land about Belfalas.

Dol Amroth was the home of both sailors and mounted knights, yet they were also renowned for their harpists. The people of Dol Amroth were of Numenorian decent, and also accounted to have had elvish blood - passed down from Mithrellas, one of Nimrodel of Lothlorien's handmaidens. They were tall, dark haired and grey eyed, and spoke, for the most part, Sindarin.

Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth fought in the battle of the Pelennor Fields with many of his knights, and won renown for his deeds there, which included saving the life of his nephew, Faramir. Imrahil's sister, Finduilas, was the wife of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, and the mother of Boromir and Faramir. Imrahil's daughter, Lothiriel, later married King Eomer of Rohan.
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