Just when I was wondering what to do this weekend... It turns out that Saturday is a working day for everyone in the unit! Apparently there's some evacuation handling training going on, and therefore there'll be enough people around to warrant a regular shift happening in the Airmen's. All hands on deck, or whatever the RAAFie equivalent is meant to be.
The interesting (or perhaps not) part is that we've been asked to bring a set of civvies, a small backpack, and a water bottle. In the event of what, or for the purposes of what, I do not know. Chances are, because someone has to stay back and cook for people, we're not going to be involved in anything cooler than working on a Saturday, but I can only hope that evacuation handling means some of us might get chosen to bugger off from shift.
I'm sounding crankier than I am, really. It's just that usually on a Wednesday I feel like I've broken the back of the week and it's all smooth sailing (I've been at Cerberus too long, clearly) henceforth... But the reality is that today is more like a Tuesday, if Saturday is truly my Friday. And I just worked a real Tuesday yesterday! It's like Groundhog Day or something. It also means that I have *eight* more working days until I leave for Brisvegas, not the sweet sounding *seven* that I thought it would be by now.
I shouldn't complain, though. One of the ACs was called back to work tonight for the late shift, after he'd started with me on an early. I'm not sure if he's working tomorrow as well, but still. Things can always get worse. That's one thing I've learnt from the military - no matter how bad you think things are, you can always think of a situation that's even suckier. Or come across someone who's actually in that situation!
Actually, I just remembered that I have two days of training on field equipment next week, which means that I technically have six more working days remaining. That's much better! I don't want to dwell on the fact that doing field phase at Latchford could possibly have been pointless if the RAAF uses better/different equipment (apparently we dig in for longer at locations, so we don't have to rely on being as mobile and thus basic/antiquated as the Army). It's always good to be versatile, you know?
Even though I'm about a week off going on leave, I'm going to try and sneak in another leave application before I go. This time it's to use up my free Next-of-Kin travel, which is basically my annual entitlement to fly 'home' to wherever that address may be. Seeing as I've been in Melbourne for the duration of initial employment training, I haven't actually used up my free flight, and it has to be claimed within the
financial year or it will be forfeited.
Hopefully it doesn't look like I just want to get out of work (I'm sure someone will say to me that hey, I only just had a holiday!), and more like I'm just using whatever benefits I can, while I can. I guess technically speaking, the powers-that-be can decide against giving me leave (although we might not be as short-staffed by June), but I'm hoping that because I can't use my NoK travel otherwise, and because it's only a long weekend that I'm wanting to take off, it'll be approved.
Just when I thought I got a reprieve from homework and work history/comp. log stuff, it seems that every Corporal and his dog is being hounded to give me taskings whenever possible. Which is meant to mean every shift, and prior to any shift I'm meant to be told what I have to prepare recipe-wise for the next day (as opposed to looking at
the board first thing in the morning and then trying to figure things out for myself).
Don't get me wrong, I like having an idea of what I'm going to be doing before the morning of the day comes around. Sometimes I'd just rather tune out and do salads and vegie prep instead of trying to juggle five different things on all sides of the kitchen. I know I've got to get used to multitasking, and not expecting people to help me out or keep an eye on what are essentially my dishes, but it's been stressing me out when in a typical day on shift, I keep getting advice, requests, and orders, from pretty much everyone else in the kitchen... all while trying to do what I need to get done.
I can't wait 'til I'm no longer the new kid. I'm sure I'll feel better once someone else comes into the kitchen and cops everyone else's handy tips and interventions. I'm willing to listen to and learn from other people, I guess I'm just not used to hearing so much from so many people at once. I think it's bringing out the inner autistic in me; I've forgotten how to filter out the unnecessary information and stop taking
absolutely everything that everyone says and does on board.
Sometimes I wonder what it is that gives people the impression that you don't have to be smart to be a cook. Other times, I wonder what it is that gives people the idea that I'm *too* smart to be a cook. All too often, I come home from work and it's like my head's about to explode. Strangely enough, all it takes is a good war movie, reading about intergalactic battles, studying knife skills, doing a workout of some
kind, or having a cup of coffee, to make that feeling go away.
Wednesday, April 30
Monday, April 28
are you my mentor?
There seems to be a little secret squirrel business going on, which has meant that my favourite PTI and my most recent Corporal/mentor are being whisked away very soon. I'm not meant to know where or when, and I probably shouldn't even be saying this much about it.
Yet I can't help but feel a slight twinge of abandonment, seeing as I only just started getting my butt back into gear with physical training, and even though I was beginning to find the old-school method of learning bulk cookery kinda draining on top of the back-to-back late to early shifts, I'm now a little *too* on my own.
It's a blessing and a curse that I received a computer of my own today, delivered smack bang in the middle of lunch service, would you believe? I won't have internet access for a couple of days, if at all, depending how reliable the Optus drone is that I spoke to about wireless broadband working with Apples, as well as the general comprehension of where I live.
He kinda freaked out about me living on a military base and not having a 'real' address. Funny thing is, you ask anyone around here where the RAAF base is, and they'll know. You get onto the base and ask where the Airmen's Mess is, and they'll know.
Ah well, we'll see what happens. I'm not going to hold my breath - my previous experience with various telecommunications companies isn't overly encouraging. In the meantime, I've got a beautiful screen to watch Apocalypse Now! I've also been playing with some comic-creation software, which I'm sure could make for a wonderful time-waster and money-saver this weekend instead of attempting another adventure into
town.
I can't believe I'm only a couple weeks away from going to Brisbane! I remember when I still had more than a month to train for the 8km Mother's Day Classic, and now I'm going to somehow cram some training in true last-minute fashion. I'm not sure physical training works the same way that halfhearted exam study does, but I'm sure as heck going to try.
It's going to be a bit of a battle against the diminishing good weather conditions, and the call of the computer, but I also have weekly 5km fun runs on base to look forward to and train towards. It's a little daunting running in an event where I'm probably going to be the most unfit and least cocky person present, because I'm sure there'll mainly be freaks that run 5km in fifteen minutes!
I figure that if everyone's leaving me behind for some hotter, drier, dustier clime, I might as well get fitter and stronger in the meantime. If only to have a good answer when people come back and ask what I've been doing with myself.
Yet I can't help but feel a slight twinge of abandonment, seeing as I only just started getting my butt back into gear with physical training, and even though I was beginning to find the old-school method of learning bulk cookery kinda draining on top of the back-to-back late to early shifts, I'm now a little *too* on my own.
It's a blessing and a curse that I received a computer of my own today, delivered smack bang in the middle of lunch service, would you believe? I won't have internet access for a couple of days, if at all, depending how reliable the Optus drone is that I spoke to about wireless broadband working with Apples, as well as the general comprehension of where I live.
He kinda freaked out about me living on a military base and not having a 'real' address. Funny thing is, you ask anyone around here where the RAAF base is, and they'll know. You get onto the base and ask where the Airmen's Mess is, and they'll know.
Ah well, we'll see what happens. I'm not going to hold my breath - my previous experience with various telecommunications companies isn't overly encouraging. In the meantime, I've got a beautiful screen to watch Apocalypse Now! I've also been playing with some comic-creation software, which I'm sure could make for a wonderful time-waster and money-saver this weekend instead of attempting another adventure into
town.
I can't believe I'm only a couple weeks away from going to Brisbane! I remember when I still had more than a month to train for the 8km Mother's Day Classic, and now I'm going to somehow cram some training in true last-minute fashion. I'm not sure physical training works the same way that halfhearted exam study does, but I'm sure as heck going to try.
It's going to be a bit of a battle against the diminishing good weather conditions, and the call of the computer, but I also have weekly 5km fun runs on base to look forward to and train towards. It's a little daunting running in an event where I'm probably going to be the most unfit and least cocky person present, because I'm sure there'll mainly be freaks that run 5km in fifteen minutes!
I figure that if everyone's leaving me behind for some hotter, drier, dustier clime, I might as well get fitter and stronger in the meantime. If only to have a good answer when people come back and ask what I've been doing with myself.
Sunday, April 27
lest we forget
Last night over dinner I overheard multiple people having a bit of a whinge about how early they had to get up today to make it to their respective marches. Much of this would have been dependent on their destination (not always a choice) and mode of transport (again, sometimes not ideal). I tried not to laugh at the people who were all wah about having to get up at 0400 to be ready on time. Welcome to my life, I felt like saying.
I must say that I do feel a bit odd not attending any services today, on the day of days when it is quite acceptable to be fiercely proud of being a part of the military. I'm not sure if it can still be a point of pride that I actually worked this ANZAC Day, technically serving my country while everyone else was just out parading their gongs and dodging the rain.
Sure, I wouldn't have minded being part of a Catafalque party, if only for the chance to do drill with weapons again. After all, the only thing more satisfying than seeing a whole squadron's synchronised, snappish movements is seeing them done with weapons in hand. Nothing like 4.3kg of Steyr rifle to make you extra conscious of every move you make! I've had the bruises to prove what goes wrong when people don't pay attention in weapons drill, believe me.
I was initially on the list of people that were marching in Newcastle, but unfortunately the call was made for people to wear Service Dress 4A. This involves full Service Dress getup including the tunic with brass buttons, custom fitted and made, worth around $400, which I don't actually have. Not my fault, because I only just posted in and the earliest appointment I could make with the tailor to get a tunic was in May, and then who knows how long it takes to get these things actually
made and sent back to us!
So then I was shunted to the list of people that were helping out with the Gunfire Breakfast in the Airmen's Mess instead. A regular early shift starting at 0500, so getting to bed by 2100 was just par for the course last night. The only time I heard the Last Post was during some radio ads, I can't even remember what they were for. I barely saw the sun come up; only realised that it was light outside once we had a quick break after the breakfast services at around 0720.
After work, I found out that the Internets is down (or maybe it's just me?), so I thought it might be best if I just had an extra long shower (seven minutes - luxury!) and a bit of a kip out. I'm not sure whether this is pro or anti Australian in nature, hence why I was at a loss without Wikipedia to inform me as to how I can successfully get my ANZAC Day on, despite having not gone to any services, not drunk any booze, not touched any games of two up, or even eaten any of those awesome biscuits that probably have no connection to diggers at all.
To be honest, I think that despite getting around the kitchen in DPCUs (cams) and pumping out breakfast, lunch and bar snacks for the Kittyhawk Club, I felt slightly more connected with the so-called ANZAC spirit last year. I only attended the Dawn service and spent the day in mild contemplation, but I was a civvie back then, and relatively speaking, I think the significance of what I did was greater than what I've done today as part of le militoire.
Now I'm going to head back to my room and live it up in true Friday night fashion - decide between watching Full Metal Jacket or curling up in bed with a copy of Starship Troopers. I'm only mildly worried that the library on base had these shelved amongst documentaries and non-fiction respectively. I wonder what kind of perception of the
military one could get from just watching and reading the stuff that exists on base? I'm guessing it's just a good thing I'm already locked in, ey.
I must say that I do feel a bit odd not attending any services today, on the day of days when it is quite acceptable to be fiercely proud of being a part of the military. I'm not sure if it can still be a point of pride that I actually worked this ANZAC Day, technically serving my country while everyone else was just out parading their gongs and dodging the rain.
Sure, I wouldn't have minded being part of a Catafalque party, if only for the chance to do drill with weapons again. After all, the only thing more satisfying than seeing a whole squadron's synchronised, snappish movements is seeing them done with weapons in hand. Nothing like 4.3kg of Steyr rifle to make you extra conscious of every move you make! I've had the bruises to prove what goes wrong when people don't pay attention in weapons drill, believe me.
I was initially on the list of people that were marching in Newcastle, but unfortunately the call was made for people to wear Service Dress 4A. This involves full Service Dress getup including the tunic with brass buttons, custom fitted and made, worth around $400, which I don't actually have. Not my fault, because I only just posted in and the earliest appointment I could make with the tailor to get a tunic was in May, and then who knows how long it takes to get these things actually
made and sent back to us!
So then I was shunted to the list of people that were helping out with the Gunfire Breakfast in the Airmen's Mess instead. A regular early shift starting at 0500, so getting to bed by 2100 was just par for the course last night. The only time I heard the Last Post was during some radio ads, I can't even remember what they were for. I barely saw the sun come up; only realised that it was light outside once we had a quick break after the breakfast services at around 0720.
After work, I found out that the Internets is down (or maybe it's just me?), so I thought it might be best if I just had an extra long shower (seven minutes - luxury!) and a bit of a kip out. I'm not sure whether this is pro or anti Australian in nature, hence why I was at a loss without Wikipedia to inform me as to how I can successfully get my ANZAC Day on, despite having not gone to any services, not drunk any booze, not touched any games of two up, or even eaten any of those awesome biscuits that probably have no connection to diggers at all.
To be honest, I think that despite getting around the kitchen in DPCUs (cams) and pumping out breakfast, lunch and bar snacks for the Kittyhawk Club, I felt slightly more connected with the so-called ANZAC spirit last year. I only attended the Dawn service and spent the day in mild contemplation, but I was a civvie back then, and relatively speaking, I think the significance of what I did was greater than what I've done today as part of le militoire.
Now I'm going to head back to my room and live it up in true Friday night fashion - decide between watching Full Metal Jacket or curling up in bed with a copy of Starship Troopers. I'm only mildly worried that the library on base had these shelved amongst documentaries and non-fiction respectively. I wonder what kind of perception of the
military one could get from just watching and reading the stuff that exists on base? I'm guessing it's just a good thing I'm already locked in, ey.
Thursday, April 17
wake up and smell the jet fuel
Another week, another handful of dollars!
Thankfully, it's been a short week, with my long weekend thanks to sacrificing last Friday's public holiday. I don't know if it's my increased intake of caffeine, addiction to So You Think You Can Dance, or a pesky game called Super Collapse II on my Gameboy that have been mainly responsible for my struggles getting through the week with enough sleep on board. It might be because I haven't been running or exercising enough, or I've been on the verge of catching whatever minor illness is going around.
I'm just glad I have a few days to get over it all, and start afresh. Don't get me wrong, it's been a good week. Productive in the sense that I've already got some stuff signed off in my work history and competency log, I managed to get through all of last weekend's homework in one piece, and we tackled a highly successful buffet in the Airmen's Mess. I also got most of a taste of what assessment is going to be like, as I took care of a soup, a main course choice, and most of a vegetable side for lunch today! It's actually nowhere near as mad as I thought it would be to juggle, and obviously with some more experience, it should be quite a manageable task.
Earlier on in the week I had a crash course in bulk cookery of stocks, soups, and sauces. Namely some vegetable and brown stocks, a cream of tomato soup, and bechamel sauce. Sounds like pretty basic stuff, but for some reason these tasks took up enough of my time that I couldn't really contribute to the usual lunch fare. Sure, people ended up using the stocks, soup, and sauce that I'd made, but I felt a little disconnected from the usual running of the kitchen. My recipes have been taken out of the old school RAAF basic cookbook, where students had to prepare recipes in quantities for 25 people. Apparently after these vast amounts of food were prepared, most if not all of the food was thrown out. No wonder the cooking school was shut down because of cost issues!
Today I was left to my own devices, with some grilled barramundi fillets, honey sesame carrots, and Mulligatawny soup. I had no idea what Mulligatawny soup was, and thought that it was some kind of joke when it was written up on the taskings board. I had totally forgotten that it actually gets a mention in the Soup Nazi episode of Seinfeld! Fortunately, despite being able to count the number of soups I've made in my life on both hands, the soup turned out well enough to receive compliments from my Sergeant. Win.
In other news, I've been declined my application for a personal loan, but I have received a RAAF loan for a computer. Most of the money has already been spent, thanks to the frightening ease of ordering through Apple's website, so with a little luck I'll be updating this from the comfort of my own room within a week or so. I'll also be able to edit out all the security tags in these posts! With some software I'm getting, I'll hopefully be able to start an online comic, or at least establish some creative webspace again. I can't wait to return to civilian internets!
In the neverending quest to pimp out my room, I picked up a dusty, forgotten and/or unloved DVD player that was sitting on the floor in one of the downstairs box rooms. It was only by chance that I came back through the alternate ground floor doorway, and glanced into the box room at the right time as I was walking past to get to the stairs, and actually spotted this little source of glee. I couldn't help myself; I had to take it and see if it was still in working order. Fortunately I had a sampler DVD of Adult Swim cartoons in the back of a magazine to try, and sure enough, it was all good. Someone probably bought themselves a home theatre system or something, and the hand-me-down technology gods have smiled upon me accordingly.
Contrary to Sunday's plans, I thought of a better way to lash out and treat myself - I'm flying to Melbourne! I'll only be there from the wee hours of Friday until Sunday afternoon, but still. It's immensely indulgent, and I wasn't meant to go back until June, and I should be spending my money on something sensible like computer software or saving towards the Brisbane trip and/or a scooter, but I figure that while I have a chance to sneak back, why not? I can't do too much shopping thankfully, because I have tickets that only give me carry-on luggage. So, intangible treats it is this weekend!
Thankfully, it's been a short week, with my long weekend thanks to sacrificing last Friday's public holiday. I don't know if it's my increased intake of caffeine, addiction to So You Think You Can Dance, or a pesky game called Super Collapse II on my Gameboy that have been mainly responsible for my struggles getting through the week with enough sleep on board. It might be because I haven't been running or exercising enough, or I've been on the verge of catching whatever minor illness is going around.
I'm just glad I have a few days to get over it all, and start afresh. Don't get me wrong, it's been a good week. Productive in the sense that I've already got some stuff signed off in my work history and competency log, I managed to get through all of last weekend's homework in one piece, and we tackled a highly successful buffet in the Airmen's Mess. I also got most of a taste of what assessment is going to be like, as I took care of a soup, a main course choice, and most of a vegetable side for lunch today! It's actually nowhere near as mad as I thought it would be to juggle, and obviously with some more experience, it should be quite a manageable task.
Earlier on in the week I had a crash course in bulk cookery of stocks, soups, and sauces. Namely some vegetable and brown stocks, a cream of tomato soup, and bechamel sauce. Sounds like pretty basic stuff, but for some reason these tasks took up enough of my time that I couldn't really contribute to the usual lunch fare. Sure, people ended up using the stocks, soup, and sauce that I'd made, but I felt a little disconnected from the usual running of the kitchen. My recipes have been taken out of the old school RAAF basic cookbook, where students had to prepare recipes in quantities for 25 people. Apparently after these vast amounts of food were prepared, most if not all of the food was thrown out. No wonder the cooking school was shut down because of cost issues!
Today I was left to my own devices, with some grilled barramundi fillets, honey sesame carrots, and Mulligatawny soup. I had no idea what Mulligatawny soup was, and thought that it was some kind of joke when it was written up on the taskings board. I had totally forgotten that it actually gets a mention in the Soup Nazi episode of Seinfeld! Fortunately, despite being able to count the number of soups I've made in my life on both hands, the soup turned out well enough to receive compliments from my Sergeant. Win.
In other news, I've been declined my application for a personal loan, but I have received a RAAF loan for a computer. Most of the money has already been spent, thanks to the frightening ease of ordering through Apple's website, so with a little luck I'll be updating this from the comfort of my own room within a week or so. I'll also be able to edit out all the security tags in these posts! With some software I'm getting, I'll hopefully be able to start an online comic, or at least establish some creative webspace again. I can't wait to return to civilian internets!
In the neverending quest to pimp out my room, I picked up a dusty, forgotten and/or unloved DVD player that was sitting on the floor in one of the downstairs box rooms. It was only by chance that I came back through the alternate ground floor doorway, and glanced into the box room at the right time as I was walking past to get to the stairs, and actually spotted this little source of glee. I couldn't help myself; I had to take it and see if it was still in working order. Fortunately I had a sampler DVD of Adult Swim cartoons in the back of a magazine to try, and sure enough, it was all good. Someone probably bought themselves a home theatre system or something, and the hand-me-down technology gods have smiled upon me accordingly.
Contrary to Sunday's plans, I thought of a better way to lash out and treat myself - I'm flying to Melbourne! I'll only be there from the wee hours of Friday until Sunday afternoon, but still. It's immensely indulgent, and I wasn't meant to go back until June, and I should be spending my money on something sensible like computer software or saving towards the Brisbane trip and/or a scooter, but I figure that while I have a chance to sneak back, why not? I can't do too much shopping thankfully, because I have tickets that only give me carry-on luggage. So, intangible treats it is this weekend!
Sunday, April 13
everything zen, I don't think so
It seems like an age since I last wrote, but it's only been a few days. I imagine that's a result of shift work playing havoc with my brain - with the amount of early starts and afternoon naps I've done, each time I wake up it feels like a different day is about to begin, resulting with Sunday afternoon feeling a little like next Wednesday. I guess it's sort of a good thing to be packing so much into my days, but then again, it feels strange to shift down multiple gears on the weekend, and then the whole cycle happens all over again the following week.
I could have had a short week, and taken Friday off for Newcastle Show Day like the majority of the base, but I thought I should see what working a full week in the kitchen actually felt like. Never mind the fact that my Sergeant thought I could handle opening up the mess and cooking for breakfast all on my own! Thankfully I looked distressed enough for him to drag in a Corporal a couple hours early, to be on hand in case I set fire to the kitchen, or had any vital questions. I must admit that it was also a touch of strategic incompetence on my part, because I imagine this is the sort of place where if I did show some ability to cope with opening the kitchen and cooking a breakfast shift by myself without having a minor breakdown, I'd only be rostered on to do it again and again.
Fortunately, much as I hoped, there were only a handful of people in for breakfast on Friday. You can count on most people to cash in on a public holiday in true form by sleeping through the cooked breakfast hours. Never mind the poor public service suckers, who didn't actually get a day off. No doubt there was a lot of thumb twiddling and pen twirling that day. It made lunch a little busier than otherwise expected, but cooking breakfast for eight people didn't feel as taxing as I thought it could be. It wasn't a complete breeze, although I was pleased that I didn't have to stuff up a poached egg before getting the next one, which is my usual curse of poachies!
I've had a change of mentors, which means that I've got another Corporal in charge of my progress on the competency log. I also had a nice lengthy chat about how the competency log stuff works, which I think I'm a little clearer on, but I'll find out if I'm right when it comes time to do an actual assessment. That might be this week, when we've got a training buffet on for lunch, and I've got to prepare three things for it. Basically, whenever we want to get something ticked off in the competency log, we have to submit some paperwork a few days before and if all goes well, it'll get signed off on the day that the particular dish is done and deemed successful.
As of next week, I'm going back to basics. Stocks, soups, and sauces, with maybe a minor dabble in wet meat dishes for the buffet on Wednesday. Seeing as it's been months since I've had anything much to do with stocks, soups, and sauces, I'm actually looking forward to getting stuck into them again. At TAFE we didn't really do much in bulk, so I've had to write out recipes from an old school RAAF cook book that provides recipes in quantities of 25. Now you're talking! I don't think I've whined enough about how underqualified I feel (despite being an apparent dux of commercial cookery), but I'm glad I'm kind of being shown the ropes somewhat, instead of being expected to make all this stuff from scratch without buggering it up. Maybe the higher-ups know how useless TAFE training is in the 'real world'. Sure, it provides a good basis for learning more, but I guess there's only so much that can be crammed in four weeks of restaurant phase and two weeks of field.
On the home front, I've come to the realisation that I'm probably getting too old for communal living. I've told people off three times for being noisy (although I believe music so loud that people can't hear knocking on the door, hammering things at 2200, and having a room party with music up and the window open at 0215 are enough to warrant telling off), and left a not-so-friendly note near some slob's garbage bag that was left in the laundry/toilets ante room, along the lines of 'take your own garbage out, this isn't your personal dumping ground'. Yes, I have become that cranky old lady upstairs who doesn't tolerate fun. I'm not even going to try and deny the fact! It doesn't help that I'm usually trying to sleep at 2000 of a weeknight, but I love being a stickler for the rules, which state that noise should be kept to a minimum in the block so as to not disturb other people.
My grand plan will come into effect if my computer loan comes through, as well as a personal loan to cover a used car and some furniture. I figure I'll stick around on base for a couple more months while I look for somewhere to live, and for my pay to finally switch over to my actual salary as opposed to the trainee one, then get outta dodge. I don't know how people spend nine months or even multiple years putting up with this Melrose Place, to be honest. I figure that despite the commute of more than five minutes to get to work in the morning, it'll be worth it to live off base just so I don't have to be the block sourpuss. I think it's more than just switching between early and late shifts that has resulted in me not being able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, but I'll be able to prove that once I get a chance to bed down in peace and quiet!
If the grand plan falls through, I'm going to wait for my backpay of doom, apply for my rider's licence test, and get a scooter. In the meantime, I'll save up some real money for basic furniture and buy more pieces as I go, and drown out the misery of block 447 by throwing myself into whatever's awesome on the internets. Somewhere in between all these plans coming to fruition, I'll also be going to Brisbane to see the sights and run the Mother's Day Classic, and hopefully zipping to Melbourne to use up my free Next Of Kin flight before the end of the financial year. I'm feeling torn between regression to ten years ago when all I cared about was covering the rent, eating bad food, and playing with my computer... and doing more adult things like establishing a proper home and work/life balance for myself up here.
I went on a brief foray off base today - as much as one can do with ten bucks around here, really. Had a proper flat white and some scones at Cafe Fighterworld, then moseyed further around to Newcastle Airport to take a look at some magazines, check out car rental rates, and partake in some trademarked takeaway cuisine. I'm not sure if I've emerged from the weekend virtuous, even though I did go for a run yesterday. The good news is, my swipe card now lets me into the gym, so now I have no excuse to avoid a workout! Never mind the minimal-equipment circuit workout I have blu-tacked up on the wardrobe... it's all okay because my PT in Melbourne's not gonna read this! I hope.
I've decided to lash out and treat myself to a rental car this weekend - it'll give me a chance to do some errands in town, maybe shop properly in Kotara without dragging a poor male along with me, and do some window shopping for furniture, cars, scooters, flats, whatever I have time to check out. I figure that even if I don't end up buying anything, I'll at least get an opportunity to see random suburbs that I might consider moving into, and seeing where the good shopping's at, so I can go back there in the future. It's going to be good to just drive around again!
I could have had a short week, and taken Friday off for Newcastle Show Day like the majority of the base, but I thought I should see what working a full week in the kitchen actually felt like. Never mind the fact that my Sergeant thought I could handle opening up the mess and cooking for breakfast all on my own! Thankfully I looked distressed enough for him to drag in a Corporal a couple hours early, to be on hand in case I set fire to the kitchen, or had any vital questions. I must admit that it was also a touch of strategic incompetence on my part, because I imagine this is the sort of place where if I did show some ability to cope with opening the kitchen and cooking a breakfast shift by myself without having a minor breakdown, I'd only be rostered on to do it again and again.
Fortunately, much as I hoped, there were only a handful of people in for breakfast on Friday. You can count on most people to cash in on a public holiday in true form by sleeping through the cooked breakfast hours. Never mind the poor public service suckers, who didn't actually get a day off. No doubt there was a lot of thumb twiddling and pen twirling that day. It made lunch a little busier than otherwise expected, but cooking breakfast for eight people didn't feel as taxing as I thought it could be. It wasn't a complete breeze, although I was pleased that I didn't have to stuff up a poached egg before getting the next one, which is my usual curse of poachies!
I've had a change of mentors, which means that I've got another Corporal in charge of my progress on the competency log. I also had a nice lengthy chat about how the competency log stuff works, which I think I'm a little clearer on, but I'll find out if I'm right when it comes time to do an actual assessment. That might be this week, when we've got a training buffet on for lunch, and I've got to prepare three things for it. Basically, whenever we want to get something ticked off in the competency log, we have to submit some paperwork a few days before and if all goes well, it'll get signed off on the day that the particular dish is done and deemed successful.
As of next week, I'm going back to basics. Stocks, soups, and sauces, with maybe a minor dabble in wet meat dishes for the buffet on Wednesday. Seeing as it's been months since I've had anything much to do with stocks, soups, and sauces, I'm actually looking forward to getting stuck into them again. At TAFE we didn't really do much in bulk, so I've had to write out recipes from an old school RAAF cook book that provides recipes in quantities of 25. Now you're talking! I don't think I've whined enough about how underqualified I feel (despite being an apparent dux of commercial cookery), but I'm glad I'm kind of being shown the ropes somewhat, instead of being expected to make all this stuff from scratch without buggering it up. Maybe the higher-ups know how useless TAFE training is in the 'real world'. Sure, it provides a good basis for learning more, but I guess there's only so much that can be crammed in four weeks of restaurant phase and two weeks of field.
On the home front, I've come to the realisation that I'm probably getting too old for communal living. I've told people off three times for being noisy (although I believe music so loud that people can't hear knocking on the door, hammering things at 2200, and having a room party with music up and the window open at 0215 are enough to warrant telling off), and left a not-so-friendly note near some slob's garbage bag that was left in the laundry/toilets ante room, along the lines of 'take your own garbage out, this isn't your personal dumping ground'. Yes, I have become that cranky old lady upstairs who doesn't tolerate fun. I'm not even going to try and deny the fact! It doesn't help that I'm usually trying to sleep at 2000 of a weeknight, but I love being a stickler for the rules, which state that noise should be kept to a minimum in the block so as to not disturb other people.
My grand plan will come into effect if my computer loan comes through, as well as a personal loan to cover a used car and some furniture. I figure I'll stick around on base for a couple more months while I look for somewhere to live, and for my pay to finally switch over to my actual salary as opposed to the trainee one, then get outta dodge. I don't know how people spend nine months or even multiple years putting up with this Melrose Place, to be honest. I figure that despite the commute of more than five minutes to get to work in the morning, it'll be worth it to live off base just so I don't have to be the block sourpuss. I think it's more than just switching between early and late shifts that has resulted in me not being able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, but I'll be able to prove that once I get a chance to bed down in peace and quiet!
If the grand plan falls through, I'm going to wait for my backpay of doom, apply for my rider's licence test, and get a scooter. In the meantime, I'll save up some real money for basic furniture and buy more pieces as I go, and drown out the misery of block 447 by throwing myself into whatever's awesome on the internets. Somewhere in between all these plans coming to fruition, I'll also be going to Brisbane to see the sights and run the Mother's Day Classic, and hopefully zipping to Melbourne to use up my free Next Of Kin flight before the end of the financial year. I'm feeling torn between regression to ten years ago when all I cared about was covering the rent, eating bad food, and playing with my computer... and doing more adult things like establishing a proper home and work/life balance for myself up here.
I went on a brief foray off base today - as much as one can do with ten bucks around here, really. Had a proper flat white and some scones at Cafe Fighterworld, then moseyed further around to Newcastle Airport to take a look at some magazines, check out car rental rates, and partake in some trademarked takeaway cuisine. I'm not sure if I've emerged from the weekend virtuous, even though I did go for a run yesterday. The good news is, my swipe card now lets me into the gym, so now I have no excuse to avoid a workout! Never mind the minimal-equipment circuit workout I have blu-tacked up on the wardrobe... it's all okay because my PT in Melbourne's not gonna read this! I hope.
I've decided to lash out and treat myself to a rental car this weekend - it'll give me a chance to do some errands in town, maybe shop properly in Kotara without dragging a poor male along with me, and do some window shopping for furniture, cars, scooters, flats, whatever I have time to check out. I figure that even if I don't end up buying anything, I'll at least get an opportunity to see random suburbs that I might consider moving into, and seeing where the good shopping's at, so I can go back there in the future. It's going to be good to just drive around again!
Tuesday, April 8
masters of disguise
When the mail came in today and I was given a letter from the top of the heap while it was being sorted, I jokingly hung around as if there was going to be more fan mail over and above the letter I had already expected. Strangely enough, there actually was another letter, and stupidly ignoring anything I'd ever learnt about opening strange packages in the mail, I tore it open while still in the kitchen, not able to wait for a suitable break time.
It turned out to be a compact of Camtech's camouflage paint, in the 'Desert Shield' colourway, and a short note saying they'd seen my blog and thought I might like some free stuff. Would I ever! Even though I'm not sure how much use the cam cream is going to be in the short term, seeing as I don't expect to be camming up any time soon, let alone required to be in the Middle East, but still. It's the thought that counts, isn't it? Then again, what kind of thought would it be, considering I've technically been cyber-stalked by someone from a company that deals with the art of concealment?
I'm not sure how to take it all, really. I don't even know who to thank at the company, because the note was just signed off with what looks like initials or a scribble, no legible name. Was it even meant to be a free sample, or is some peon that works there willing to send away the colours that aren't selling as well to randoms on the internet? Sure, I wanted friends and people that knew me to send me cool stuff in the mail, but now I'm wondering if I should be more vague about where I live and work! Then again, mail coming into this place is probably more secure than anything else I've ever had sent to me in my life.
It's already been a week of surprises, and it's only Tuesday. Yesterday we had a visit from the Minister for Defence, Mr Joel Fitzgibbon (unaffectionately known in Defence memos as MINDEF), which I didn't even know was happening, because I was busy waking up with a brew at 0500 instead of dutifully checking my emails as I should. Embarrassingly enough, I didn't even know who MINDEF was (and internal emails never mentioned him by name, so checking them wouldn't have helped that much anyway!), rather, I knew that it wasn't going to be Brendan Nelson coming through the doors of the Airmen's Mess.
I thought that this was a rather unusual PR jaunt, with MINDEF being taken around various Airmen jobs around base, as opposed to schmoozing with officers. Unfortunately, I had to pose for a few photos on a day when I wasn't even ready to put hairspray as well as mousse through my hair. These things always happen when you least expect or want them to! Fortunately, I only had to call Mr Fitzgibbon sir, and he barely said ten words to me, because he was distracted by his escorts, the photographer, and the Gap Year kids that were clamouring for his attention, while I still had a line of people to serve lunch to... duty calls, and all.
Apparently, it's tradition to buy one of the higher ups a carton of beer for getting such a photo opportunity, even though I didn't actually have any desire for anything of the sort. I have a feeling that I was chosen because I was the new kid on the block, and also the only female working on shift, and therefore the easiest target. Perhaps I could have used the help of Camtech yesterday, when I wanted to just hide from the limelight!
It turned out to be a compact of Camtech's camouflage paint, in the 'Desert Shield' colourway, and a short note saying they'd seen my blog and thought I might like some free stuff. Would I ever! Even though I'm not sure how much use the cam cream is going to be in the short term, seeing as I don't expect to be camming up any time soon, let alone required to be in the Middle East, but still. It's the thought that counts, isn't it? Then again, what kind of thought would it be, considering I've technically been cyber-stalked by someone from a company that deals with the art of concealment?
I'm not sure how to take it all, really. I don't even know who to thank at the company, because the note was just signed off with what looks like initials or a scribble, no legible name. Was it even meant to be a free sample, or is some peon that works there willing to send away the colours that aren't selling as well to randoms on the internet? Sure, I wanted friends and people that knew me to send me cool stuff in the mail, but now I'm wondering if I should be more vague about where I live and work! Then again, mail coming into this place is probably more secure than anything else I've ever had sent to me in my life.
It's already been a week of surprises, and it's only Tuesday. Yesterday we had a visit from the Minister for Defence, Mr Joel Fitzgibbon (unaffectionately known in Defence memos as MINDEF), which I didn't even know was happening, because I was busy waking up with a brew at 0500 instead of dutifully checking my emails as I should. Embarrassingly enough, I didn't even know who MINDEF was (and internal emails never mentioned him by name, so checking them wouldn't have helped that much anyway!), rather, I knew that it wasn't going to be Brendan Nelson coming through the doors of the Airmen's Mess.
I thought that this was a rather unusual PR jaunt, with MINDEF being taken around various Airmen jobs around base, as opposed to schmoozing with officers. Unfortunately, I had to pose for a few photos on a day when I wasn't even ready to put hairspray as well as mousse through my hair. These things always happen when you least expect or want them to! Fortunately, I only had to call Mr Fitzgibbon sir, and he barely said ten words to me, because he was distracted by his escorts, the photographer, and the Gap Year kids that were clamouring for his attention, while I still had a line of people to serve lunch to... duty calls, and all.
Apparently, it's tradition to buy one of the higher ups a carton of beer for getting such a photo opportunity, even though I didn't actually have any desire for anything of the sort. I have a feeling that I was chosen because I was the new kid on the block, and also the only female working on shift, and therefore the easiest target. Perhaps I could have used the help of Camtech yesterday, when I wanted to just hide from the limelight!
Sunday, April 6
hornets, hors d'ouvres, and harry potter
It's been an exhausting but awesome first week on the job, and even though it's only been four days for me, I'm already feeling it. Foodwise, I've mainly had a hand in salads, vegetable prep, some stir frying, and deep frying. These are the typical basic tasks that you've got to get right before anyone's going to let you get closer to anything that's more important if things go wrong with it!
Fortunately this week, there has been a cocktail party for 400 or so shiny people and their partners, as part of the Air Force Birthday celebrations. Much like my days of being a waiter, it's good to do function work every now and then for something a little different, but I'm glad I'm not in the kind of job where function work is the norm. A whole team of about ten AC/Ws banded together to make what seemed to be millions of hot and cold hors d'ouvres to be served over two hours in a hangar on the far side of the base from where we normally work.
After the better part of two days spent prepping for the event on Thursday, we were crammed into a ute and driven to the hangar where the magic was going to happen. We got a brief tour of the cafeteria area where we were going to plate up our masterpieces, and I got my first look at a diesel powered fridge. The most impressive part was checking out the hangar setup itself... three Hornets were parked facing into the open hangar, with the sunset of a mild Autumn day creating the perfect backdrop to the central bar area, and surrounding white-clothed tables.
As people began arriving in Service Dress 1A, I couldn't help but stare. I haven't seen this particular getup often enough to get bored of it, and much to my surprise I found out that I'm also entitled to the blue woolen tunic with shiny buttons as much as all these officers were! The whole scene looked like something out of Top Gun, minus the eighties haircuts. We couldn't gape at the hangar setup for too long though, because we had to launch into plating up our finger food feast!
The night was a good chance to see what happens at both sides, because I got to garnish and set up plates of hors d'ouvres as well as jump back in the kitchen and help get food packed up into the van for transit. Function work reminds me of the simple appeal of logistical endeavours, and the satisfaction that comes from seeing a job done efficiently as well as successfully.
Just when I thought that doing Unit PT and then an extra PT class on Wednesday was bad enough, having only four or so hours to get any sleep before starting the early shift at 0500 on Friday became my true source of pain. Perhaps the two were sort of combined in a way, seeing as my arms were quite useless from the only resistance exercise I've done in a couple of months, and my body hadn't slept enough to recover from what I had done to it the day before.
Early shifts are going to be a way of life for me for a while, the rest of the month at least. I think I might get a tiny sleep in the week I'm on sweets, but then again with my inhibitions regarding patisserie work I'll probably be fretting enough to make up for whatever extra rest I could possibly get! The good thing about starting at 0500 is that the working day is over by 1400, sometimes earlier. I actually used to love doing agency work that started early in the morning, because you still have part of the business hours in the day to get your own admin type things done. I also feel like getting up at 0900 on the weekends is a sleep in, then I still have multiple retail hours left in the day to get some consuming done. Fantastic.
One of the cooks took me out yesterday to check out one of the bigger shopping centres in the area. I guess the main problem with not having very much (my boxes arrived from Cerberus on Thursday, but I was in no mood for unpacking on such a beautiful, sunny day) is that you don't really know where to start when it comes to buying things. I also had that weird feeling of being on parole, like I got the first time I stepped off base after four weeks of recruit training. It's weird mixing with civilians and doing ordinary things like window shopping with the general public, when you've spent most of the week in either a kitchen or a beige room.
It seems that the next few months of my life are going to parallel when I first moved out of home, and every minor purchase becomes an upgrade to my room. The same cook that emancipated me also lent me his old 30cm tv, and just like a true prisoner of beige, I was incredibly grateful and surprised at the offer, considering I've gone almost ten months without owning a television, and compared to a clock radio, it had upgraded my Saturday night entertainment considerably.
Never mind the fact that what I did last night was unpack the majority of my worldly goods whilst watching Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone on tv. Now, instead of being trapped by commercial radio, I'm going to be a victim of commercial television. I'm not sure if that means I'm moving up in the world, but I definitely feel better for having a second electrical good in my room.
Everyone's been quite helpful and approachable so far, even though it's only been a matter of days in the workplace. I've been lucky to come here I think, because I've run into other Students of Merit and Duxes combined, and a couple of people that are my age have been good to talk to about whatever it is that twentysomethings talk about, which other demographics just don't get!
It's also great to get to know cooks that actually care about food, that have an interest in furthering their culinary skills and knowledge, and are also willing to teach me a few things. I guess the main problem with trying to learn stuff at TAFE was that everyone was at such different levels of skill and knowledge, and not everyone cared about the finer points of food culture, and with such a limited time to get through whatever we had to do, there wasn't as much of an opportunity to mine the Chefs there for knowledge.
My room feels much better now that I've filled the wardrobe and a whole bunch of drawers with stuff, I've got my own linen on the bed again, my books are all up on shelves, and a handful of photos and postcards have been pinned up on the noticeboard. It's only little things, when I think about it, but even when I come to the mess for meals and keep saying hi to people that are neighbours in the block, it all goes towards making this place feel a little more like home.
Fortunately this week, there has been a cocktail party for 400 or so shiny people and their partners, as part of the Air Force Birthday celebrations. Much like my days of being a waiter, it's good to do function work every now and then for something a little different, but I'm glad I'm not in the kind of job where function work is the norm. A whole team of about ten AC/Ws banded together to make what seemed to be millions of hot and cold hors d'ouvres to be served over two hours in a hangar on the far side of the base from where we normally work.
After the better part of two days spent prepping for the event on Thursday, we were crammed into a ute and driven to the hangar where the magic was going to happen. We got a brief tour of the cafeteria area where we were going to plate up our masterpieces, and I got my first look at a diesel powered fridge. The most impressive part was checking out the hangar setup itself... three Hornets were parked facing into the open hangar, with the sunset of a mild Autumn day creating the perfect backdrop to the central bar area, and surrounding white-clothed tables.
As people began arriving in Service Dress 1A, I couldn't help but stare. I haven't seen this particular getup often enough to get bored of it, and much to my surprise I found out that I'm also entitled to the blue woolen tunic with shiny buttons as much as all these officers were! The whole scene looked like something out of Top Gun, minus the eighties haircuts. We couldn't gape at the hangar setup for too long though, because we had to launch into plating up our finger food feast!
The night was a good chance to see what happens at both sides, because I got to garnish and set up plates of hors d'ouvres as well as jump back in the kitchen and help get food packed up into the van for transit. Function work reminds me of the simple appeal of logistical endeavours, and the satisfaction that comes from seeing a job done efficiently as well as successfully.
Just when I thought that doing Unit PT and then an extra PT class on Wednesday was bad enough, having only four or so hours to get any sleep before starting the early shift at 0500 on Friday became my true source of pain. Perhaps the two were sort of combined in a way, seeing as my arms were quite useless from the only resistance exercise I've done in a couple of months, and my body hadn't slept enough to recover from what I had done to it the day before.
Early shifts are going to be a way of life for me for a while, the rest of the month at least. I think I might get a tiny sleep in the week I'm on sweets, but then again with my inhibitions regarding patisserie work I'll probably be fretting enough to make up for whatever extra rest I could possibly get! The good thing about starting at 0500 is that the working day is over by 1400, sometimes earlier. I actually used to love doing agency work that started early in the morning, because you still have part of the business hours in the day to get your own admin type things done. I also feel like getting up at 0900 on the weekends is a sleep in, then I still have multiple retail hours left in the day to get some consuming done. Fantastic.
One of the cooks took me out yesterday to check out one of the bigger shopping centres in the area. I guess the main problem with not having very much (my boxes arrived from Cerberus on Thursday, but I was in no mood for unpacking on such a beautiful, sunny day) is that you don't really know where to start when it comes to buying things. I also had that weird feeling of being on parole, like I got the first time I stepped off base after four weeks of recruit training. It's weird mixing with civilians and doing ordinary things like window shopping with the general public, when you've spent most of the week in either a kitchen or a beige room.
It seems that the next few months of my life are going to parallel when I first moved out of home, and every minor purchase becomes an upgrade to my room. The same cook that emancipated me also lent me his old 30cm tv, and just like a true prisoner of beige, I was incredibly grateful and surprised at the offer, considering I've gone almost ten months without owning a television, and compared to a clock radio, it had upgraded my Saturday night entertainment considerably.
Never mind the fact that what I did last night was unpack the majority of my worldly goods whilst watching Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone on tv. Now, instead of being trapped by commercial radio, I'm going to be a victim of commercial television. I'm not sure if that means I'm moving up in the world, but I definitely feel better for having a second electrical good in my room.
Everyone's been quite helpful and approachable so far, even though it's only been a matter of days in the workplace. I've been lucky to come here I think, because I've run into other Students of Merit and Duxes combined, and a couple of people that are my age have been good to talk to about whatever it is that twentysomethings talk about, which other demographics just don't get!
It's also great to get to know cooks that actually care about food, that have an interest in furthering their culinary skills and knowledge, and are also willing to teach me a few things. I guess the main problem with trying to learn stuff at TAFE was that everyone was at such different levels of skill and knowledge, and not everyone cared about the finer points of food culture, and with such a limited time to get through whatever we had to do, there wasn't as much of an opportunity to mine the Chefs there for knowledge.
My room feels much better now that I've filled the wardrobe and a whole bunch of drawers with stuff, I've got my own linen on the bed again, my books are all up on shelves, and a handful of photos and postcards have been pinned up on the noticeboard. It's only little things, when I think about it, but even when I come to the mess for meals and keep saying hi to people that are neighbours in the block, it all goes towards making this place feel a little more like home.
Tuesday, April 1
yet another beginning
Three Hornets in formation ripped their way above me; the sound of tearing the sky in half like a rough draft that needs to be started all over again. Just when I thought it was awesome enough coming within 30m of a whole row of them on the flightline!
I was taking the scenic route to see the Unit Security Officer, yet another signature that's needed for my Inwards Clearance procedure. This is basically what everyone needs to do when they post in to a new location - much of it is just running around chasing admin stuff like handing in medical and dental records, checking up on deficiencies at the clothing store, finding out where various places are on base which I personally may never visit again, but may prove useful to the next Airman coming through.
Yesterday was my first faux working day on base, which was whiled away with various tours of the separate messes, running into more people than I thought I even previously knew, and wandering around looking for signatures in a sort fo crazed scavenger hunt, wearing terribly uncomfortable shoes. I suppose that's one bad thing about living somewhere that it's been consistently 25 degrees and sunny each day so far - it's not particularly conducive to trekking around base in service dress.
Defence Community Organisation handed me somewhat ominous takeaway goods - a plastic tray containing hand wash, two rolls of toilet paper, a box of tissues, a couple pens, and a writing pad. Do they know me, or do they know me? I also scored some not-so-useful maps of Newcastle and a whole bunch of tourist brochures for things in and around the area. I don't really have the heart to suggest to them that what people really need when posting in is a guide on how to live here, not how to live it up out there.
The latest mixture of good and bad news (I'd call it a bombshell, but perhaps it's just a blessing in disguise and I'm being overly dramatic, considering actual test bombing happens not far from here!) is that apparently Defence wants us to not live on base by June 13 of this year! Considering I thought that we had to live here for a minimum number of months before even applying to live on base, and that it would take even further paperwork to get rental assistance to support such a manouvre, this is quite the turnaround. Apparently we can get full rental assistance to live off base, because the accommodation is meant to be of a level five standard for us live-in permanents, and the current standard is approximately two-and-a-half. Or something like that.
So I had a little poke around some real estate ads, and I can set myself up with a nice little one or two bedroom unit or flat for the miraculous price of less than $100 a week after rent assistance. What a deal! I know of people that have moved into two and three bedroom houses, all with the help of il governmento. Meanwhile, people here on a short term basis are pretty much stuck with the crummy blocks until they get upgraded, but there is supposedly a Defence-wide strategy to move people off base in order to make the on-base accommodation a bit more liveable. I'm down with that.
Except for the fact that I thought I could sponge off some taxpayers and save up some money for that pesky small business operation I thought I'd launch after leaving le militoire. Instead of throwing my hard-earned at a car, some whitegoods, default furniture, and good lord... utilities. As much as would love the chance to have a government-sponsored dwelling of my own, I just don't see the point in winning a new house if I have nothing to put in it... and it'd only be the beginning of a whole range of costs that I haven't factored into this move. Heck, I thought it'd only take me a handful of pay fortnights to sort me out with a car and/or a computer... now I'm wondering how much of a loan I could possibly take out to get a washing machine and a bed!
I'm trying to not get too far ahead of myself. I haven't even got my stuff delivered from Cerberus yet. It's been my first day of work today, and I feel like I'm starting school again. All these names to remember, I feel clueless about the equipment and any recipes for bulk cookery, not to mention that everyone seems to have a different way of doing things that I previously thought were straightforward. I'm still going through a bit of the induction and admin process, and will supposedly get some time off on Thursday to sort out my removal, but there's also a big cocktail party in one of the hangars that day. Way to jump in the deep end, really.
I'm feeling nervous but good. I think I'm really going to dig it here. I've run into a handful of people I know already, and had a good chat to catch up on gossip with someone from my recruit course last year. It seems like an age since I was at Edinburgh, and surely enough all manner of things have happened to people while I was busy doing not very much at Cerberus. It's all happening, finally. I may just be fresh meat, but at last I feel like a proper RAAFie.
I was taking the scenic route to see the Unit Security Officer, yet another signature that's needed for my Inwards Clearance procedure. This is basically what everyone needs to do when they post in to a new location - much of it is just running around chasing admin stuff like handing in medical and dental records, checking up on deficiencies at the clothing store, finding out where various places are on base which I personally may never visit again, but may prove useful to the next Airman coming through.
Yesterday was my first faux working day on base, which was whiled away with various tours of the separate messes, running into more people than I thought I even previously knew, and wandering around looking for signatures in a sort fo crazed scavenger hunt, wearing terribly uncomfortable shoes. I suppose that's one bad thing about living somewhere that it's been consistently 25 degrees and sunny each day so far - it's not particularly conducive to trekking around base in service dress.
Defence Community Organisation handed me somewhat ominous takeaway goods - a plastic tray containing hand wash, two rolls of toilet paper, a box of tissues, a couple pens, and a writing pad. Do they know me, or do they know me? I also scored some not-so-useful maps of Newcastle and a whole bunch of tourist brochures for things in and around the area. I don't really have the heart to suggest to them that what people really need when posting in is a guide on how to live here, not how to live it up out there.
The latest mixture of good and bad news (I'd call it a bombshell, but perhaps it's just a blessing in disguise and I'm being overly dramatic, considering actual test bombing happens not far from here!) is that apparently Defence wants us to not live on base by June 13 of this year! Considering I thought that we had to live here for a minimum number of months before even applying to live on base, and that it would take even further paperwork to get rental assistance to support such a manouvre, this is quite the turnaround. Apparently we can get full rental assistance to live off base, because the accommodation is meant to be of a level five standard for us live-in permanents, and the current standard is approximately two-and-a-half. Or something like that.
So I had a little poke around some real estate ads, and I can set myself up with a nice little one or two bedroom unit or flat for the miraculous price of less than $100 a week after rent assistance. What a deal! I know of people that have moved into two and three bedroom houses, all with the help of il governmento. Meanwhile, people here on a short term basis are pretty much stuck with the crummy blocks until they get upgraded, but there is supposedly a Defence-wide strategy to move people off base in order to make the on-base accommodation a bit more liveable. I'm down with that.
Except for the fact that I thought I could sponge off some taxpayers and save up some money for that pesky small business operation I thought I'd launch after leaving le militoire. Instead of throwing my hard-earned at a car, some whitegoods, default furniture, and good lord... utilities. As much as would love the chance to have a government-sponsored dwelling of my own, I just don't see the point in winning a new house if I have nothing to put in it... and it'd only be the beginning of a whole range of costs that I haven't factored into this move. Heck, I thought it'd only take me a handful of pay fortnights to sort me out with a car and/or a computer... now I'm wondering how much of a loan I could possibly take out to get a washing machine and a bed!
I'm trying to not get too far ahead of myself. I haven't even got my stuff delivered from Cerberus yet. It's been my first day of work today, and I feel like I'm starting school again. All these names to remember, I feel clueless about the equipment and any recipes for bulk cookery, not to mention that everyone seems to have a different way of doing things that I previously thought were straightforward. I'm still going through a bit of the induction and admin process, and will supposedly get some time off on Thursday to sort out my removal, but there's also a big cocktail party in one of the hangars that day. Way to jump in the deep end, really.
I'm feeling nervous but good. I think I'm really going to dig it here. I've run into a handful of people I know already, and had a good chat to catch up on gossip with someone from my recruit course last year. It seems like an age since I was at Edinburgh, and surely enough all manner of things have happened to people while I was busy doing not very much at Cerberus. It's all happening, finally. I may just be fresh meat, but at last I feel like a proper RAAFie.
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