The Jamjar

No Subject

It makes me cry just to type this, but she's been such a part of this blog that I think you need to know. Mouse was hit by a car on Saturday.

Thanks to a very kind soul, I found her on a blue blanket on my grass verge. She could have been sleeping. Her fur was soft, and warm from the sun. But she wasn't sleeping. It must've happened when I let her out in the early hours of the morning after she demanded outside by constant meowing as she has done for the last few weeks. I guess she discovered "across the road" and it was a great new adventure.

I'm not coping well with her not being her. And I'm not strong enough to put a photo of her to with this post - I tried but I just couldn't manage it. I keep dreaming this is a horrible mistake - unfortunately I wake up realising it's not.

Sand n' salty sauce

This evening was gorgeous. Such a beautiful evening. I drove home via the Bays, and people were out on their roller blades and runners, lovers holding hands, dogs dragging owners out for a walk. Me driving in my car, looking for a place to stop and breathe.

I thought the evening was a good one for a picnic of fish n' chips and sticky saucey fingers, sitting on the stone wall at Mission Bay. When I got there, the tide was out and there was actually a decent amount of sand to walk on. Not too many people, either - well, relatively.

The sky was blue, end-to-end and Rangitoto was its typically fabulous horizon. Little boats and yachts, ferries and general water traffic. Wind warm, for a change. Birds and people, squarking both. Volleyball nets up on the sand, touch-rugby on the grass, families gathered around spread-out newspaper and salty fingers.

I wouldn't mind company next time if you feel like coming.

One Non-blonde

Clarification

Rosie: *p break*
Rosie: um... not the drug
Rosie: the WEES

Micro Management

"How interactive do you think this meeting's going to be?"

I really really hate anything *remotely* like roleplay. It's as common an element in a teaching situation as multichoice questions are in online learning. They are both valuable, and I hate them equally.

Today I, along with other members of my extended team, had been invited to an afternoon meeting to find out about an important project pilot, it's metrics and results, and how it impacted us in the Learning division of the company. Four hours had been set aside for this meeting and that was a pretty safe bet it had been structured with interactivity.

The Dart Game was an activity set around a fictious company that made paper aeroplanes. They utilised a production-line set up, with workers, management and "observers" to measure processes and suggest efficiencies to see how we can utilise the philosophies of Jack Welsh and Six Sigma to become the best darn paperdart making company in the World. The long table had six chairs - not really to signify the SIX in Six Sigma but spooky none-the-less. I was a worker as were five of my colleagues - mostly our hands shot up so fast for the worker slots because none of us wanted to Manage at.all.

I could have sat in any seat. Any seat. But I sat in the seat second from the left. After we'd all settled, a folded label was placed in front of each of us. Starting from the right working left, the labels read: Marker, Cutter, Folder 1, Folder 2, Logo sticker and Gauger, and Tester. I was "Logo sticker and gauger" dammit Janet a) two jobs and b) I was the Art Department. Talk about Like-attracting-Like. I whispered to my colleague to my right, Sarah: Folder2 "I feel I might be a bottleneck". We volunteered Jack as our Manager and he quickly found a clipboard and an official tone, full of middle-management cliché which was scary and funny in turns. I have to say, it was noted that our *actual* manager seemed a bit miffed that he wasn't managing us, but he felt somewhat better upon finding his own clipboard and looked like he might manage Jack.

The rules for Round One: The Marker must mark the paper into four equal squares and hand off to the Cutter, who cut the paper into four pieces as marked. The Cutter then handed Folder 1 who completed the first half of the folds. She then handed off to Folder 2 who completed the folding of the paperdart and passed the dart to the Logo Sticker and Gauger (art department). As the Art Department I had to cut out the logos, glue one to each wing of each dart, then measure the dart to see it fitted within "design paramaters" ie: it could fit inside a pre-drawn rectangular guide, then I would hand the dart off to the Tester, who would throw the dart at least four metres for it to pass as an "acceptable" dart. Unfortunately, there were a couple of extra rules for Round One:

• Darts must be passed from one stage to the next in batches of four. Folder 1 couldn't pass darts to Folder 2 until there were four darts to pass.
• There was to be no talking.
• We had to follow the rules of production and not modify them nor prepare anything such as cutting the logos from their A1 sheet before the first batch arrived.
• 24 paperdarts in 10 minutes was the goal

Yes, we all know what Art Departments are like and I knew I was in trouble.

Rpt was one of the observers so he counted down - from 10 strangely enough. And we were off.

1. The paper Marker marked the paper with ruled pencil and passed it to the Cutter.
2. The Cutter cut the paper, passing the four pieces of paper to the first Folder while the paper Marker marked up another piece.
3. Folder 1 folded while the Cutter cut another piece of paper into four while the Marker marked up another sheet of paper.
4. Folder 1 passed her four half folded darts onto Folder 2 who began completing the folding, Jack the Manager spurred Folder 2 on "You're a star Sarah!" while Folder 1 folded the next four pieces of paper,"great work there Alvina" Jack enthused to Folder 1, the Cutter cut paper, and the Marker marked "nice straight lines Marker, keep it up!" Jack was not only looked the part with his clipboard and pen, but provided an encouraging, supportive workspace.
5. Folder 2 passed her four folded darts to the Art Department for their "logo treatment". I picked up the paper and the larger scissors Jack the manager had found to replace the safe kindergarten scissors I'd been supplied and cut out the 8 tiny logo squares from the page. Taking the lid off the glue stick and brushing a swipe over each wing, my less than dainty fingers placed the stickers on the first dart. Swiping the second dart's wings and placing the second lot of logos. The Marker still marking, the Cutter still cutting, Folder 1 folding furiously and Folder 2 on her third of four darts. I swiped the third dart, applied logos, then the fourth just as the next "batch" was ready to go. I "gauged" each of the planes and passed them off for Testing.
6. The Marker marking, me swiping glue on the first wing, the Cutter cutting, me swiping glue on the second wing, "nice sticking action, Michelle" encouraged the Manager, Folder 1 folding, me applying the fiddly logos to the wings, Folder 2 folding faster than anyone has ever folded before, me guaging, Folder 2 pushing another "batch" my way,
7. The Observers noticing where the bottleneck was beginning to appear (oh I could've told you THAT) encouraging "c'mon Michelle, speed it up!" the Marker marking, the Cutter cutting, Folder 1 folding, "stop throwing darts at me!" my stress was showing as the Testing seemed to include firing right over my shoulder, Folder 2 now officially the Worlds Fastest Folder and my bottleneck of darts piling up to great proportions. God knows what the tester was doing and TIME WAS UP.

Could we see where the inefficiencies of this process lay? Hell Yes, bloody Michelle, you're gonna have to work faster!

"I knew I'd be the bottleneck" I sulked. Sarah, now World Folding Contender was laugh, laughing. It was time to discuss where our inefficencies lay, and what cuts/enhancements to the process we could make to reach our goal of 24 Flight tested darts in 10 minutes. Unfortunately, "Fire michelle" was the first suggestion ruled out. I wouldn't have minded, really. Would've made me eligible for the Dole!

So we all talked, and processes were suggested and new guidelines were decided.

• No batch processing. All darts would be handed on when they were ready and not held up waiting for a complete set of four
  
• the Marker wouldn't rule the lines for the Cutter, but simply fold the paper into four
  
• The Art Department would second the Tester to cut the logos and guage
  
• The Manager would put down his clipboard, roll his sleeves up and Test the darts.

Nothing quite like a bit of interactive role-play to bring out your true colours. The paper folders and cutters seemed to be in their elements, while the folders were both increasing their skillsets and Jack was positively shining in his role as Manager. I was feeling vaguely sick that my job had been downgraded because I had failed so visibly in Round One. I didn't want to share my job, from what I could see the Tester turned Logo Cutter hadn't done a very good job of cutting the logos, and there were very few actually ready to go. I mentioned to Management that I was feeling low, and that I was feeling discomfort from repetitive strain in the fine logo-sticking work and a bad workstation environment. I don't then he even noted my complaint. He was too busy rallying the rest of the team; the Stars. But I had my gluestick lid off and ready for whatever Folder 2 passed to me. I was nothing if not a Team Player.

Manager Jack over my shoulder "Michelle, could you please refrain from texting on work time."

Rpt counted down... from 10, again. That's quite a long way to count down for a small team of dart makers. "Go!"

1. The Marker folded her paper in four. The Cutter cut the paper into four pieces. The Seconded Tester cut logos.
   
2. The Marker folded paper into four. The Cutter cut the paper into four pieces. Folder 1 folded the first half of the dart folding.
   
3. The Marker folded her paper into four. The Manager encouraged "great work people, keep up the pace!" The Cutter cut the paper into four pieces. Folder 1 folded the pieces. Folder 2 completed the folding.
   
4. The Marker folded the paper into four. The Cutter cut the paper along the folds, passing the pieces to Folder 1 who folded then handed off to Folder 2, I swiped glue on one wing then the other, the Tester stuck one logo on one wing - precisely, and carefully, positioning it perfectly.
   
5. The Marker folded the paper into four "I hate RAP music, that Eminem is immoral, he wrote a song about his OWN mother!" the Cutter cut along the folded lines. Folder 1 folded quickly, second only in speed to Folder 2 who was now undisputed Paperdart Folding Champion of the World. I wielded my glue stick with an accuracy seldom seen outside an operating theatre. The Tester stuck logos, precisely and accurately to each wing of the paper dart. The Manager threw the completed darts and piled them into GO and NOGO piles. The bottleneck was appearing between the swiping and the sticking. Logos were running out, not enough had been cut and the glue on the stockpiling planes was drying up causing rework. I switched my priorities to cutting more logos, deftly slicing tiny logos into a pile, before reswiping the wings of the already glued planes. arg.. rework.. I was doing rework!
   
6. The Marker folded the paper into four "He was alright til he got famous now he's just disgusting" Our production-line's conversation had more in common with Coronation Street's seamstresses than it did with the aeroindustry. Rpt told us we had 2 minutes left. The Cutter cut along the folded lines. Folder 1 creased and passed, Folder 2's hand were a blur. My glue stick needed winding out more as I used more and more glue. The Tester seemed to think quality was important and caused the bottleneck to choke even more. The Manager turned tester threw darts. "I'll be your Wingman anytime, Maverick!" One dart flew over my right shoulder as it failed it's test. I switched again, this time sticking logos to three darts to every one the Tester was managing.
   
7. The Marker folded, "I hate RAP music like Eminem and the D4" the Cutter cut along the folded lines. Rpt said we had just over a minute left. Folder 1 folded. Jack the Manager threw a dart and called for us to keep up the good work! Folder 2 was now folding with one arm behind her back. I glued and stuck logos and called for more logos as we only had a few left. The Tester stuck, repositioned, accurately placed each logo completing one dart for every three off mine. The Manager kept testing. He flew more like Goose than Maverick - another dart whizzed over my shoulder "STOP THROWING DARTS AT ME!"
   
8. The Marker folded, the Cutter cut along the folded lines. Folder 1 was looking at a solid Silver medal pacement to Folder 2's Gold. Rpt called 15 seconds. I was swiping, gluing, reswiping, cutting logos. The Tester carefully placed a logo, then another. A dart hit me in the back of my head.

TIME!!

Thank God for that.

We achieved our goal, but had had to make 30% more darts to meet standard of 4m Flight. There was a lot of waste - in time and materials, not to mention patience from the artistic members of the team. And while the morale of the Team was good overall, there were signs of stress and depression in the Art Department and no sense of job security or satisfaction whatsoever.

PS: My Manager now decided, based on observing this activity, the best way to get my Project done faster was to remove me from it and replace me with Folder 2.

Beef and Honey Soy

Panorama Dreaming

I dreamed and dreamed. It was overly warm in my dream - a fine, hot day in a panorama of places knitted together and traveling between. My first memories of it was walking towards a store. One of those huge hyper-stores they satellite out with other massive stores thinking bigger is better when in fact it's just boring.

I was going to meet Phet.

He worked there - he was the loud speaker guy - "Clean up in Aisle 7 - Jamie Franks to the office please, Jamie Franks - you have a phone call in the office". We'd been video phoning in the morning so I'd know what he looked like: with his headset on and talking into the phone, his head filled my flip-phone and now I knew who I was looking for exactly. This was the first time to meet him - and my only time to meet him because he was going away. This was our window. I walked along the buffer-corridor of the building - the floor was carpeted in those thin felt carpet tiles like they have in school and the light was dim. The store was to my right, bright lights and business through the thick poster-covered glass.

And then there he was. This tiny, tiny man. no, I mean *tiny* man.. though his height kept changing from about 3 foot tall to about a foot tall. It was Phet's face all right but he was really tiny. "no wonder he fitted in my phone" I thought. I looked at the glass windows of the store again as got closer to Phet, and saw the reflection of myself "that's right" I said, seeing an old classmate, Catherine Cheyne's reflection as my own "I'm tall".

We hugged. Hard. He spent the rest of the night in my dream.

It was, as I mentioned, a stitched-together affair. I was out in the desert at one stage, being told to jump into an inverted cone-shaped hole by someone who was familiar and shadowy at the same time. What did he think I was, stupid? I've seen Return of the Jedi, I know what those sorts of holes do - they eat you whole, that's what those holes do. I refused, and it made the person I was with slightly aggitated. Seems he wanted to make me go away and it was proving more difficult than he had bargained for seeing as he only had one plan and I was refusing to play along.

Exasperated, he eventually gave up and drove me back into another part of my dream and turned into my ex-mother-in-law on the way.

When I was married, I used to dream about my ex-mother-in-law a lot. I used to dream I had no voice, and I would squeeze my hands around her wrinkly old neck, feeling all the fine bone snap under the pressure. Now she was driving me to a different part of my dream, I couldn't strangle her or risk crashing - so I threatened her with violent acts through clenced teeth of a vicious nature.

She eventually dropped me off in part of my dream where Greg was doing the gardening. And Phet was helping - though not so much because he likes gardening, but because he was left so long he got bored and needed something to do. He'd become taller while I was gone - now about 5'4" or so. And I walked towards him as he leaned on his shovel and looked at me. I could feel I was me again, and not the willowy Cathrine Cheyne, and I could also feel the smile on my face as I saw what he was wearing.

OMG I wish you could take photos of dreams.

He looked at me and narrowed his eyes and said "shut.up"

I just grinned harder.. he was wearing plaid short shorts, a loose fitting light knit dirty-from-gardening sweater with the sleeves cut off; sneakers and socks. "keep the socks" I said "they look fantastic!" and he growled at me. The socks came up over his knees to a loose mid-thigh.

He looked quite rustic in a grubby old cricketing, gardening kind of way.

This dream had other things in it too: clothes and emails, Rosie and Bella, computers and kitchens. All the things that crossed my plate over the evening, but repackaged and reordered and now, reclassified in my brain stamped with the vivid image of Phet in borrowed clothes that made him look like God's Gayest Gardener.

And THIS, Phet.. is exactly why you should NEVER go to Work Drinks on a Friday night. While you may be forced to garden when left alone too long in my dreams, my mind will play DressUps with you if you're not there to keep me awake.

This dream was brought to you today by:

• Rosemary and Thyme (that British gardening murder mystery series starring Felicity Kendal who kind of looks like a boy but doesn't wear shorts)
• Dave's Acerbia Girl in long stockings
• fishboy's flipphone/inside-my-computer conversation
• Ian's Midget Porn
• Rosie's links on MSN
• Phet coming home and telling me to remind him to never go to After Work Drinks ever again then going to sleep early
• the many images on Flickr before I went to bed

Rerun wha?

You are Rerun!


Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

yes, folks, it's that time of the night.

Mouse with mouse

lemon and chilli stir fry

Read My Badge

Book Store Guy: Oh, you're a Telecom person.
Michelle: *looking down at the security card around my neck* ah, yup.
Book Store Guy: Where in Telecom do you work?
Michelle: hmm, Broadband.
Book Store Guy: You guys are *so* hard to get a hold of!
Michelle: we are? We don't mean to be.
Book Store Guy: Hey, how do I go about getting a new Self Install CD?
Michelle: Phone the Helpdesk's 0800 number, they'll sort you out.
Book Store Guy: Oh, right. Yup. My dad reinstalled Windows and now we need to reinstall the modem and stuff.
Michelle: now, you're not going to plug that modem in til the Self Install disk tells you to, are you.
Book Store Guy: No ma'am. I got told off for doing that last time.
Michelle: Good on ya, you call the Helpdesk, they're trained and helpful and they'll sort you out with a new disk and any other help you need.
Book Store Guy: sweet!!

Michelle: *noticing the coffee Pod lady's head stanting slightly to read my name on my security badge*
Pod Lady: Mee sheelll?
Michelle: Park.. Michelle Park. yup.
Pod Lady: ahh.. Meeshell Park.
Marshmellow Guy: Michelle Park. Good name!
Michelle: yeh, Park is a popular Korean name.
Marshmellow Guy: Yes! very popular in our country.
Michelle: yes, I'm Korean you know.
Marshmellow Guy: *laughs*
Pod Lady: *laughs*

New James: Let me see your ID Photo?
Michelle: *shows badge*
New James: *looks*
Michelle: *lets*
New James: *looks*
Michelle: *lets*
New James: *looks* cor, you'd never tell from looking at this.
Michelle: never tell what?
New James: You actually look Professional in this photo!

Hospice Admin: You're here to fix the phone?
Michelle: *realising* wrong fecking badge!

Giant Squid

De-borktifying

*whines* I hate when thejamjar breaks. I hate it because no one can comment. I hate it because I always feel like blogging when I can't. I hate it cos I never know how to fix the bleeding thing.

But I managed it. Lord only knows how uploading the same files can fix a webpage but there you go - I'm not looking this gift filing cabinet in the mouth.

The squid? yes.. well.. that comes next. or after these messages from our sponsers.

*musak*

If you build it - they will come

I got an email today at work. It was from a person more senior than I, with a link to a website she had *just* discovered that she considered "Brilliant!". I am thinking she meant the content to be brilliant because anyone who has ever been to useit.com will tell you: brilliant to look at, it ain't.

How did he know?

ARIES (March 21-April 19): I'm afraid I had to name you "Underachiever of the Month" for September, Aries. You didn't quite succeed at wrestling your frustrations into submission, though you had the power to do so. You also failed to cash in on much of the great potential you had for smashing injustice, exposing fakery, and toppling the rotting status quo. That's the bad news. The good news is that some of your
missed opportunities will become available again in the coming week. Make up for lost time, please.

[i know i know.. post in progress.. any minute now *spoiler* may or may not involve giant squid - stay tuned]

The Movie that Time Forgot

Is it just me, or was Van Helsing a long movie? At least I'll know what to wear next Talk Like a Pirate day: thankyou Ms Beckinsale. Maybe using Morpheus in Assault on Precinct 13 caused a slowdown in the Matrix this evening. And, c'mon: Brian Dennehey is *always* the baddy.

Would someone feed Ethan Hawke a beef burger, for the love of Pete.

So tonight was fish'n'chips and DVDs. Though my mind did a lot of wandering because watching DVD movies at home is just not the same as seeing movies at the Cinema. (well DUH michelle) I'm gonna miss the cinema when it finally goes. Oh, yes: it's going. It bounced back from VHS but it's not going to survive Video on Demand and Home Theatre - not at the prices it charges and the level of service theatres offer. It's just not on. But, I'll miss it when it goes.

A movie that is showing at the moment and is actually worth the price of $14.50 admission (even to Botany with it's messy too-small-bathrooms and it's slow icecream scoopers) is (the icecream scoopers aren't in the bathroom by the way - those are two complaints that are not physically close to one another) Wallace and Gromit - Curse of the Were Rabbit. (I didn't see this movie at Berkley's Botany theatre btw, I went to Village at Highland Park. Yes I know the carpet smells of - actually I don't know what it smells of and probably shouldn't try'n figure it out - but the bathrooms are bigger, cleaner, and the icecreams are ready-to-go. That's the end of the bracketed interruptions). The feature length movie losing none of the Aardman/Nick Park charm of their shorter adventures. (PS Last Bracket Interruption: Yes I do know that Chicken Run was a feature length Aardman outing and was charming too but this is Wallace and Gromit. _wallace_and_gromit_ have *real* charm. and it was preserved from A Grand Day Out and The Wrong Trousers) You've probably read by now about being able to see finger prints in the soft surface of the plastercine, especially noticable on Gromit's eyebrows. I found a real comfort and deep fondness in seeing the bits of fluff and specs of stuff in Gromit's surface.

Meanwhile, back on the couch not paying attention to Van Helsing, I was imagining how my future home theatre might be to compensate for the demise of large centrally located cinema. It would have to be a dedicated room, with a bunch of comfy "found" couches - or at least very expensive couches made to look like found couches. I've heard the theatre on Waiheke Island is like that but considering my dislike for that Island, I'll probably never know. Not too large a room; serious consideration would be made to scale and personal space.

It would need to have wireless laptops in case anyone needed to Google information. Information such as finding out Gabriel Byrne was actually never The Devil, though he looks like they could be brothers. And no phones at all in the room. (well.. okay.. in case I want to talk to my sister Jo while watching Miss Universe, there might be a cordless phone - for such pagent emergencies "did she *use* the dressing room mirror at *any* time before walking out on stage??")

I've always fancied lying on the floor and being able to watch the movie on the ceiling, so some sort of gravitational device would be needed - so I could make the back wall "sticky" and feel like a floor. Not being one to particularly like carpet on walls (before the Grav. device was turned on the the wall then becoming a floor - I'm all for soft floor coverings) I'd have to be able to set the false gravitation on "easy" so I'd just float above the flat hard wall (floor) - it has some real usability issues that need to be sorted. Failing that technology: a screen on the roof and a matress on the floor'd do I guess.

I'm all about having a Plan B.