The wonderful world of bureaucracy

There appears to be no such thing as the phrase "She'll be right" in this land mass, especially when applying for a working with children's card. I take the form fill it out and bring it back with every piece of ID I possess. The first time they go through and re-write half of my words for me, then they send me away for proof of address (something it does not say I need in the book of instructions.) I come back with what they bank tells me is proof of address, but this piece of paper requires a stamp. Back to the bank, apparently it is against policy to stamp the statements. I explain exactly why I need it stamped and that if they cannot do this there must be something else they can do, at this point someone finally breaks policy (if only to get me out of the bank where I have been demanding help for the past half hour). I go back to the post office with what I think is everything I need. This time I am told that my proof of address and my eftpos card have to be from different Australian banks. The man then asks me why I can't just supply my visa (the visa I don't have because Kiwi's don't need them here). I go home to ring the helpline where I discover there has been a recent change in policy, I can now take a letter from the bank and eftpos card from the same bank in. Back to the post office, everything is finally going well until they discover my letter from the bank is not an acceptable proof of address. This time to the bank, where I learn there are many policies relating to getting hold of statement. I still don't have a working with children's card, I have one more trip to the bank and post office at least left. I don't understand what difference it makes where I live, if I put down the wrong address then they post to the wrong address. It has my name and photo on it, no one else can use the thing. The worst part about it all is that I am paying a ridiculous amount for a service which has already taken 4 hours of my time, plus until I have it I can't work.

The News

I feel like telling this news to someone but since I am in the library it's probably not appropriate to call Mum.
I now have a job at a beautiful creche. They loved me, I loved it so everything is nice. I begin full time in a months time and up until then they will give me part time. Finally I don't have to put unemployed on all the forms. Now I just have to brave all the paperwork and then I have a job!!!
In other news, the Indian girl is grumpy with me becuase the landlord gave me a new matress and she is now planning to move out!

Independence!!!! (I have some)

What a week!! I now have a home, and most probably a job :) I'm renting a room in an apartment block. I share a bathroom and kitchen with two other people. It's nice, tidy, clean and best of all there are no extra bills. The rent covers electricity, gas and water. There's in built heating, it's furnished and would you believe it is also cheap!!! Thanks to a string of 'coincidences' I now live right where I wanted to. Finally people are leaving that part of my life alone and everyone has stepped back from trying to organise my life. Of course, other people have stepped up. If they can't find me a job or a home then they'll find me a shidduch instead. My disinterest in going on blind dates has so far baffled every singe one of them, resulting in long interrogations regarding male friends, past relationships and basically any other invasive questions they would like to ask.
Once I've finished with all of those questions I get the joy of going home to my Indian neighbour. Apparently it is perfectly acceptable to bang on someones door, loudly and for approximately 5 minutes, at 7 in the morning. It is also acceptable to do the same thing while yelling at midnight. I did begin to think there might be something seriously wrong the first time, so I got up and opened the door. Not stopping to apologise, the girl walks in and begins to chat about nothing. She knew full well I had been up at 2 the night before, if she'd done some simple maths she would have discovered I had not had 8 hours sleep and would not yet be interested in chatting. Bearing in mind I have only known the girl for a day one would expect a certain level of privacy. For example if I tell you I am "Just going out" I am just going out. Where I am going, what time I will be home, the number of people there, the gender of the people there, the religion of the people there, the mode of transport I will be taking, the time this will take and the weather at the time I will be going are all none of your business. If they were some of your business then I would have deemed to answer these questions, as I did not the general response would be "Have a good time" followed by walking into your room and leaving me alone!!! We have had one break through in the last day, she did acknowledge I was indepenent. I am hoping this knowledge will soon transfer into an adjustment of communication. As of yet it has not, my unwillingness to eat her food has now been translated as anorexia. This is now of great concern, while I was sitting eating 2 sandwiches I needed to be questioned on my eating habits. Hello!! I am eating two sandwiches, you saw me cook tea and make breakfast, you also saw me have afternoon tea. All of these meals were larger than a normal persons portion, provided there is no unusual toilet stops and while I am not fat, the general assumption would be I don't have an eating condition. Now that I have finished my whinge I will add a disclaimer, she is a very nice girl living in another country from her family, she is lonely and I am one of the few people she see's outside of work hours. I can't imagine being in her situation, and it must be very hard. She is also learning quickly, she only banged on my door once last night (or morning) my light was still on and she was somewhat quieter in her approach. I am also learning, I told her we would talk in the morning and did not unlock the door.

Independence?

As of Friday my independence appears to have become a distant memory. Everyone I come into contact with decides it is their personal job to organise my life. I feel like a room that someone tidies, three minutes later someone else walks in and reorganises me, two minutes after that it is someone elses turn and so it goes.
So here is my list of everything everyone has done for me in the space of three days. One woman got me an interview for a job and another with the Beit Din, she decided to make these two appointments right after each other and decided that she would drive me to the second. Next, my friend organised the shul I was going to (something I actually did ask for). This followed by an invitation for the entire shabbat to a Rabbi's place. After this I was invited to a lecture, and a shiur today. At the shiur two women argued over the pros and cons of my social events on Tuesday. Following on from this I was invited back to one of these women's places for a meal, which was the perfect time for her to organise me a new place to live.
Now I am going to apparently a wonderful place for a week. Of course I was actually perfectly happy at my backpackers, and I was actually looking forward to my tea at the backpackers and more to the point I like being independent. I would be happy to live in a backpackers if I could just have the privilege of organising my own life!!

Day 2 and 3

I am about to go insane!! No one warned me how long it takes to apply for jobs!!I think I have applied to enough now, and I am really hoping they don't all give me interviews!!!
Yesterday I went on a mammoth search for a mall. I found a little underground thing with Mall written on it, (not a mall) and when I finally asked where the mall was I was told I was in it. Apparently Melbournians like to make-believe that streets packed full of black suits and lots of shops I don't want to go into, are malls. I did successfuly find a Target and I bought some very well priced fry-pans, which may actually survive. It still puzzles me why Australia can't use Eftpos more often, everyone pays with cash which means lines are very long, which makes grumpy business men even more grumpy.
After that somewhat successful trip which also involved a successful trip to the bank, I boarded the right train and got off at the right stop. I then walked in the right direction up the right street for approximately 20 minutes before deciding I was walking the wrong way. I then walked in the wrong direction on the right street for about 20 minutes, at which point I realised my mistake. Finally I walked in the right direction on the right street for half an hour bought my groceries and walked all the way back again.
Today I am about to venture out into the big wide world again, find myself some food and then off to the Museum. I haven't really adjusted to the small change in time yet, right now I feel like it should be 3 and my day should be almost gone but no it is only 1 and I have plenty of time left.
Penguins tonight :) Thanks for all the emails and comments on mediums other than this about my blog. I love that I can sit down and babble and people thank me for it!!!

Day 1

The first day in Melbourne was great. The plane ride was slightly cramped, the guy beside me slept leaning towards me while the woman in front pushed her seat back as far as it would go.

I survived the mission of getting my very heavy suitcase (it even got an orange label) heavy handbag, heavy laptop case and two coats from the airport to the tram, and then the tram to the back packers. They let me check in 2 hours early which I was very happy about and then I took off to the parade. The parade was awesome, everyone who I know was there almost, plus hundreds of people I don’t know. I was astounded with how many Jews there actually are, and I only saw a very small portion. After the parade we went to the carnival, I had a hamburger and then decided I was too exhausted and it was time to go to bed. Unfortunately I was also too tired to sus out the bus system so instead of sleeping I took myself on a full walking tour of the Jewish suburbs. I now know where almost everything is, and how to get to just about everywhere except my back-packers. The lessons I have learned so far are: Melbourne’s malls require googling to find, if I want to hear Hebrew and find meat Balaclava is the place to go, Melbourne is very big, if you turn left at McDonalds you will not find Coles (nor if you turn right, go straight ahead or anything else for that matter), Caulfield is a long way to walk from St Kilda and finally overseas call centre people get a little titchy when it is the third time you’ve rung them in the space of 20 minutes.