Advice Part 90- On being mistaken for a "dude"

Aah, yes. This is going to be a somewhat embarrassing post to write, but what the hell, it's the new year, so I might as well start it off with a bit of self-flagellation.....

I have never been what you would describe as a "girly girl" (if such a creature does in fact exist, and is not an invention of the patriarchy- but that's a thesis topic there). I remember as a child, my valiant Grandma tried to encourage me to be more "feminine" by giving me Barbie dolls, and suggesting I style their hair. But even then, it was a lost cause- I took greater joy in decapitating the unfortunate dolls and drawing gangster tattoos on their headless plastic corpses.

Moving right along.....

In recent years, my lack of stereotypical femininity has led to some rather, err, interesting situations where I have been mistaken for a "dude", as my boyfriend puts it (and yes, before you ask, he and I have been treated as a gay couple when we've been out together! The fun NEVER stops here!).

Hence, my advice for young players is that IF you are unsure whether someone is male or female, it is better to keep your mouth shut, rather than risk making a fool of both yourself and the person in question. 

Read on.....

Last year, I went into a store which sells both male and female attire. I was clad in my typical weekend wear of jeans, trainers, T-shirt and backpack. I was soon approached by a sales assistant, and the following conversation ensued.....

• Sales person: Hey there! How are you today? Can I help you with anything?
• Me (looking in the women's section): Aah, no, not really, just having a look.
• Sales person: And are you shopping for yourself today?
• Me: Yes. Yes, I am. 
• Sales person: Great! Well, the men's section is just over there on the right.
• Me: Err.....I ummm......Err........I'm not a guy.
• Sales person (going bright red): Umm, oops! Sorry! My mistake! Ha ha ha! 

Needless to say, I didn't buy anything from THAT store.

If this was a once off, I'd have happily dismissed it. Maybe the sales person needed new glasses? But, unfortunately, it is not a rare occurance.....

• I have been directed to the male toilets by restaurant staff. 
• I have been asked "whether sir would like the fish or the chicken?" 
• And I remember on one particular long haul flight being addressed REPEATEDLY as a man despite pointing out to the flight attendant that I was actually female.

What on earth is wrong with these people?! I'm not THAT masculine! I have breasts! I have hips! I have a female voice! For goodness sake, it's not that hard to work out that I'm a woman!

And no, sir will NOT be wanting the chicken......

Advice Part 89- The joys of complaining

In recent weeks, I have not been feeling my best, and, in an effort to improve my mood, I have decided to spend more time doing the things I like. And top of that list is complaining (yes, I understand that this probably isn't the first thing that people commonly think of as a "fun" activity, but bear with me....).

My advice to young players is that if something is annoying the hell out of you, then you should really consider making a complaint. But remember, complaining is a SERIOUS business, which needs to be done with aplomb and justified outrage; it is not be be attempted lightly or frivolously. 

How do I know this? Read on.....

I have always been someone who has a tendency to be, how shall I say it, "a bit negative". But for most of my existence, I have not made a fuss when things have gone badly, or when I feel that there is something wrong. However, earlier this year, for some unknown reason, a switch must have flicked in my brain, and I decided to start complaining when I feel I have a legitimate cause. 

This was a revelation for me. I realised that I actually ENJOY complaining and am quite good at it, if receiving apologetic answers is a mark of success. (I just realised that sounds REALLY arrogant- that's definitely not the tone I intended!)

In the past week, I have complained to the following organisations:

•  My local council, because someone has dumped a big bag of junk outside my apartment block, and I want it cleaned up;

• The Opera House, for insisting my mum cloak her handbag at an event we attended, whilst men with bigger backpacks were allowed to take theirs in with them (I even squeezed in a two-for-one "bonus complaint" with this one, because in the drop down list of titles on the complaint form, they did not have "Dr", and so I decided to whinge about that, too. SHAZAM!);

• The bus company, for changing the timetable so that the bus leaves at EXACTLY the same time the train arrives, meaning that you always miss the bus, and have to wait 30 minutes for the next one;

• The pathology lab, for not rostering enough staff on during morning peak time, resulting in a TWO HOUR WAIT for a simple blood test.

And it's only Thursday, so there's plenty more scope for complaints to come!

Sometimes I do worry about the fact that I get considerable enjoyment from penning outraged letters about issues that other people may consider to be petty. But I like to think of myself as providing a community service to businesses, by letting them know how they can improve. Although I will admit that those I complain to may not see it that way..... But if they're annoyed, they can always make their own complaint.

Advice Part 88- On being depressed....

Aah, yes. This is a difficult one.

I figured it was about time to update my blog, which has been distinctly lacking in posts for the past few weeks, but, to be honest, I have very little urge to do so because I have (yet again) fallen into a depressive hole/been visited by the Black Dog (thank you, Winston Churchill)/taken to my bed/whatever other euphemisms you wish to use for feeling rather "under the weather". So to speak.

But, ever the model citizen, I have decided to turn my bad experience into advice for others! (my generosity knows no bounds today!)

That being said, my advice for young players is that if you are depressed, it is NOT YOUR FAULT! And there is ABSOLUTELY no shame in admitting that you are depressed. Why do I say this? Read on.....

If I think about things honestly, I have probably suffered depression in some form or another for most of my life. As a child, I was never exactly full of verve and vim (to the brim or otherwise), and I would say, in retrospect, that I was more than likely clinically depressed throughout the vast majority of my teenage years.

However, it wasn't until I enrolled in uni that I decided to see a counsellor about my general dissatisfaction. She asked me to fill in a Depression Scale, and I scored in the top 5% of depressed entities (amusingly, this is the highest score I have received on any test- as Charlie Sheen would say, "WINNING!").

So how does it feel being depressed? I'm sure it's different for everyone, but for me it is

• not being able to get out of bed in the morning;
• having absolutely no motivation;
• seeing a week pass at work and realising I've accomplished nothing;
• not caring about eating or drinking (yes, it's true!); 
• pulling out my Leonard Cohen, Elliott Smith, and The Smiths CDs for a bit of "light listening";
• leaving dirty dishes in the sink for days on end;
• getting (even more) short-tempered and snappy than usual; and
• feeling annoyed when my cat jumps on my lap and purrs (poor puss- the travails of feline life in a depressed household).

This is how I feel at the moment.

I went to the doctor yesterday, who advised me to up my dosage of anti-depressants, make some "life changes", and see a therapist. So that's what I've decided to do. Will I recover from this? I would like to. Will it be easy? Probably not, for me or for the people around me who have to suffer these things. Will I have a relapse? Almost certainly. But I can at least hope that it's later, rather than sooner. And that has to be something, right?

Advice Part 87- Why everyone needs a Top 10 Albums List (otherwise known as a pathetic excuse to publish my own)

Perhaps it's just me (and I imagine it probably is), but articles such as this immediately pique my interest. I absolutely love reading subjective lists, by apparent authorities, passionately purporting to be the definitive judgement on the best albums ever released.

I enjoy these lists so much because they invariably make me furiously angry.

"Why ON EARTH did they include THAT?! It's RUBBISH!"; "Four albums by the same artist are not allowed, surely?!" and "Look at the blatant attempt to be cool by including a punk offering amidst the detritus" were some of the reactions I had to the linked list.

Anyway. Enough sniping.

My advice to young players is that regardless of the criticism you are almost certainly bound to receive, NO person should be without a Top 10 Albums List (I sound more and more like the character from High Fidelity by the day- but don't worry, former boyfriends, I will not be revisiting "my desert island, all-time, top-five most memorable breakups").

So, without further ado, here is my own Top 10 albums list....

1) Elliott Smith. Either/Or (1997)

2) Crowded House. Temple of Low Men (1998)

3) Neil Young. Harvest (1972)

4) The Smiths. Strangeways, here we come (1987)

5) Nirvana. MTV Unplugged in New York (1994)

6) Leonard Cohen. Songs of Leonard Cohen (1967)

7) Peter Gabriel (1977)

8) U2. Achtung Baby (1991)

9) R.E.M. Automatic for the People (1992)

10) The Beatles. Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967)

To be honest, I'm not completely happy with this list. Why?

• The top nine are fine, but I'm really not sure about Sgt Pepper's. It's a good album; I wanted The Beatles there; but sometimes I feel it's a little, err, cheesy.....
• Choosing albums is different to choosing songs. I wanted to put Prince in somewhere, but I like random songs from different albums, not one single album.
• Not including the same artist more than once was DIFFICULT. But if I had, my top ten would have featured five albums by the same person.
• The albums I like the most aren't necessarily the albums I think are "technically" the best. I think OK Computer is a technically amazing record, but I don't love listening to it (sorry, but it's true)
• I wanted to justify why each album is included, but it would have taken me a whole day, so this will have to suffice. But if you're interested in hearing my ravings, always happy to oblige!
• The most recent album on my list is 15 years old. Make of this what you will.

Advice Part 86- Professions where you SHOULDN'T talk

If you're anything like me, and have spent a fair bit of time looking at job ads (quirky fact- I was once unemployed for 2.5 years!), you will notice that having a "bright and bubbly personality", "good verbal communication skills" or a "friendly and approachable manner" are often listed as key requirements for jobs.

This is all well and good for certain professions. However, my advice for young players is that if you like engaging in a bit of small talk with your clients, then being a dentist probably isn't the job for you.

Case in point.

Yesterday, I went along to the dentist for my regular check-up. I've been going to the same surgery for the last couple of years, and, like David Sedaris, I actually ENJOY my visits. (Well, most of the time....Except for when I need to virtually remortgage my apartment to pay the bill....Or when the dentist discovers that half my tooth has decayed.....).

The reason I like going is because my dentist (let's call him Neil) is VERY nice. Aged around 70, he resembles a friendly grandfather. Albeit with a drill.....

The only problem with Neil is that he likes to talk. A LOT. This would be fine and dandy if he was engaging in monologues (dramatic or otherwise). Or if he was talking to the dental assistant. But no. Neil enjoys talking to his clients, whilst he works. Consequently, this situation regularly ensues.....

• Neil (reclining the chair): So, what have you been up to lately? Have you had a nice weekend? How's work? 
• Me: Oh, not a lot. Just this and that. On the weekend, I......
• Neil (reaching for the descaler): Open wide. I'm just going to give your teeth a clean. So, you were saying....?
• Me (mouth wide open): Gurgle gurgle gurgle
• Neil (attacking my molars): Oh really? That sounds like fun! And did you enjoy that?
• Me (attempting to make my indistinct mutter sound "positive"): Gurgle gurgle
• Neil (reaching for some other instrument of torture): Now, keep that mouth open. (Avuncular chuckle) Nothing like the weekend, eh? I had a great time, too. I bought a new phone. I love it. Do you have a smart phone? What type? I should have bought one ages ago!
• Me: Gurgle gurgle.
• Neil (smiling encouragingly): Oh, you have an iPhone? Me too!

I don't know if Neil is a) just guessing correctly; or b) is bilingual in English and the dentist language of "indistinct open mouth noises", but he seems to decipher my mutterings with success a fair proportion of the time.

Nonetheless, I can't help feeling that dentistry maybe isn't the ideal job for him. Although he certainly makes it a diverting experience......

Advice Part 85- The part-time exorcist

As I've become older, and ever more wizened, less and less things surprise me. Whether this is a result of experience, or a gradual increase in cynicism (I suspect the latter), I'll never know. But on Wednesday night, I realised just how little I've seen.....

Hence, my advice to young players is that you should NEVER believe that your credulity has been stretched to its absolute limits, because, more than likely, there's something even more bizarre out there......

What do I mean by this? Read on.....

On Tuesday, my boyfriend, "Ricardo", had a blocked ear. He went to the medical centre to have it syringed, but the nurse didn't know what to do. Instead of heating the water up (first rule of syringing), she decided that cold would suffice, and proceeded to attack the unfortunate Ricardo's eardrum with her icy jet. Needless to say, this only made the ear worse.

By Wednesday, Ricardo couldn't hear out of his troublesome ear, but he decided to come along to Spanish class that night anyway. Needless to say, he wasn't able to hear very much, and in the break, when the classroom was empty, he went up to the teacher, Julio, to explain what had happened.

At this point, I should tell you that our teacher is, err, "a bit odd." Understatement of the century, as I've recently discovered....

The following conversation ensued:

• Ricardo: Hi Julio, I just wanted to explain why I haven't been speaking in class today. My ear is blocked, and I'm having trouble hearing.
• Julio: That's no good. Have you been to the doctor?
• Ricardo: Yes, the nurse syringed it, but it hasn't helped. 
• Julio (thoughtfully): Interesting. It didn't help at all?
• Ricardo: No. It made it worse. The wax is all built up inside the canal.
• Julio (decisively): I don't think it's wax in there. If it was, it would have come out at the doctor's surgery. No. It's clear to me that you have an evil spirit in your ear. It's obviously built a home in there, and when the doctor tried to flush it away, it decided to hang on even tighter. That's why it's so sore.
• Ricardo (gaping): Err, right.
• Julio (starting to become very animated): Yes, there's definitely a demon in there. Or some sort of bad spirit. And it's in a very dangerous position, so close to your brain. You're going to have to do something quickly to get rid of it, before it tries to take over. I am a spiritual healer. I can help you to exorcise it for a very cheap price.

Julio then waved his arms near Ricardo's head, as a bit of a spiritualism try-before-you-buy and asked if Ricardo could "feel the demon struggling." Ricardo decided it was best to agree, and nodded gingerly. Obviously believing he'd won the unfortunate Ricardo over, Julio gave him his business card (Julio Lopez, Spiritual Cleansing Service) and urged him to call ASAP.

Needless to say, Ricardo has decided not to take up his offer. But if we're ever in the market for an exorcist, we know where to go.......Though god knows how I'll ever be able to keep a straight face in Spanish class again.

Advice Part 84- Visit to the vampire

Maybe it's just me, but visiting the doctor is something I view with great trepidation (sorry for any medicos out there reading this- it is not a personal offence to you!). Whilst I do enjoy having a chat with my GP, and checking out the cool giant microbe toys hanging around on her desk, I have noticed that after almost every visit, I am told to head to the pathology lab for a blood test.

This fills me with absolute horror, because I am REPULSED by blood tests. Yes, I do have diabetes, and I see my own blood every day. But taking a minute finger prick sample is VERY different to having your unfortunate veins assaulted and robbed of tubes of the stuff.

My advice to young players is that if, like me, a visit to the pathology lab makes you feel sick to the stomach, there are a few small tricks that you can use to survive this experience intact.

How do I know this? Read on....

This week, I wasn't feeling too well, so off I trotted to the GP to see if she could find out what was wrong. I explained my symptoms in great detail, and launched into a discussion of my tiredness and lack of will. The following conversation ensued:

• Her: Hmm. It sounds like it could be an iron deficiency.
• Me: Oh right. Should I just restart the iron tablets?
• Her: No, no. I'd like you to have a blood test first. Here, I'll write you a request. And we'll get a few other things checked at the same time.

These were just the words I didn't want to hear. Not only a SINGLE blood sample, but MULTIPLE TUBES would be taken. 

To steal Joseph Conrad's line "The horror! The horror!"

So, off I went to the pathology lab this morning. And here's my advice for surviving.....

• DO NOT go to the pathology lab as soon as it opens! It will be chockers with people who are doing fasting blood tests. Unless you have to do one of these, wait until later when there's less people.
• Try to minimise the amount of time you spend in the waiting room, as it will just make you nervous. Especially if there are children having blood samples taken, and you can hear their shrieking....
• DO NOT LOOK when the pathology person inserts the needle and takes the blood!!!!! I can't emphasise this enough!!!!!

• If you begin to hear your heart beating in your ears, this is a BAD SIGN that you are about to pass out. If you feel like you are about to faint, then ask the person if you can lie down.
• After the pathology collector (aka "the vampire") has taken your blood, you will have to look at the tubes, and potentially touch them, to check that they have your details right. I find this part particularly gross, especially if the tubes are warm from the blood (yuk, yuk, YUK!!!)

I'm going to have to stop here, because I am starting to feel ill just writing this stuff. 

All I can say is, if anyone can invent a machine that analyses blood without needing to take a sample, I will be your biggest fan.