Saturday, August 8, 2009
quicko: the great jelly jam
Here "jam" means "jelly" and "jelly" means "Jell-O." Gives a whole new meaning to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which, incidentally, Australians seem to find intrinsically revolting, regardless of whether they think you mean jam or jelly.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
quicko: place names
There's so many cool place names here, I just wanted to share a smattering with you: (these are all in the greater-ish Sydney area)
Woy Woy
Narrabeen
Collaroy
Curl Curl
Dee Why
Coogee
Turramurra
Cronulla
Wallarobba
Dungog
Wirragulla
Woy Woy
Narrabeen
Collaroy
Curl Curl
Dee Why
Coogee
Turramurra
Cronulla
Wallarobba
Dungog
Wirragulla
Waratah
and, of course, Kirribilli
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
quicko: people with disabilities
It's probably just that I bump into a lot more people with disabilities at home since I have a brother in practically every Special Olympic sport except swimming (clinging to the wall, nearest body, etc. doesn't go over particulaly well, even in Special Olympic circles), but I've hardly encountered any people with physical or intellectual disabilities in Australia. I'm sure there must be a community thereof, but my encounters thus far have been quite limited.
Monday, August 3, 2009
quicko: kim's blacklist
What's the point having a blog if I can't use it to blacklist genuinely bad institutions, hey? Well, today I'd like to perform my civic duty by warning you against the Customs House Library. Being that it is, from what I can tell, the major public lending library in downtown Sydney, you'd think it'd be decent. It's not.
First off, it's not free. You've got to pay $15 to join.
Second, you have to pay $1 every time you want to request a book they don't have. Which wouldn't be so bad, except for (see below).
Third, they never have any books you want. Quite possibly they don't stock them at all, though if they do they generally only have one copy, unless the book is popular, in which case they might have two. Three if it's Harry Potter.
Fourth, they do not have Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy or The Wednesday Wars. These, I feel, are important for them to have, not merely because they were written by one of my professors (who, might I add, was one of two who dared to give me a B+, but who I am still championing for as it appears no one else in Sydney can be bothered), but also because they happen to be Newbury award winning books. Surely the biggest library in the biggest city in Australia would get a copy of any Newbury award winning book? Or then again perhaps I should have checked to see if it has Pulitzer winners first. I'm not holding my breath.
Fifth, if they decide to take my recommendation and purchase The Wednesday Wars and inform me of that decision, I will still have pay $1 to check out the book because, as you will recall from point two, you have to pay $1 every time you request a book they don't have.
Sixth, and this is highly annoying, their fiction collection is divided into A-L and M-Z. This division in and of itself is not worthy of Nuremburg trials (even my fight against alphabetical prejudice doesn't span this far), but the fact that they are placed not only in two completely different rooms but on two different floors practically is. A-L are on (the illogically named, yet open and normal) level one, while M-Z are not even directly above them, but closed off in a silent room for studying on a 90 degree angle to them on level two. Far be it from you to be scanning, say, the Wodehouse section when suddenly you realize what you really want is a Fforde. At least you'll get your exercise, but forgive me if that's not what I thought libraries were supposed to provide. Different countries, different customs, hey?
And finally, and most importantly (the rest of this nonsense, nonsense though it is, I could live with), they are mean! Not just not nice, but rude on a good day and belligerent on a bad. A librarian made me cry -- a librarian!! Though it was only so extreme on one occasion, I have yet to have any librarian there regard me civilly. They purse their little lips and scan you over as if you're causing them severe delay by merely asking them to, say, check if a book is in shelving, which is, presumbaly, the job of a librarian. Or at least something that every other librarian I've enountered has done quite happily. These, though, don't seem to see their jobs as relating to anything with a bigger spine than a 12 inch cover. Consider yourself forewarned; read at your own risk.
First off, it's not free. You've got to pay $15 to join.
Second, you have to pay $1 every time you want to request a book they don't have. Which wouldn't be so bad, except for (see below).
Third, they never have any books you want. Quite possibly they don't stock them at all, though if they do they generally only have one copy, unless the book is popular, in which case they might have two. Three if it's Harry Potter.
Fourth, they do not have Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy or The Wednesday Wars. These, I feel, are important for them to have, not merely because they were written by one of my professors (who, might I add, was one of two who dared to give me a B+, but who I am still championing for as it appears no one else in Sydney can be bothered), but also because they happen to be Newbury award winning books. Surely the biggest library in the biggest city in Australia would get a copy of any Newbury award winning book? Or then again perhaps I should have checked to see if it has Pulitzer winners first. I'm not holding my breath.
Fifth, if they decide to take my recommendation and purchase The Wednesday Wars and inform me of that decision, I will still have pay $1 to check out the book because, as you will recall from point two, you have to pay $1 every time you request a book they don't have.
Sixth, and this is highly annoying, their fiction collection is divided into A-L and M-Z. This division in and of itself is not worthy of Nuremburg trials (even my fight against alphabetical prejudice doesn't span this far), but the fact that they are placed not only in two completely different rooms but on two different floors practically is. A-L are on (the illogically named, yet open and normal) level one, while M-Z are not even directly above them, but closed off in a silent room for studying on a 90 degree angle to them on level two. Far be it from you to be scanning, say, the Wodehouse section when suddenly you realize what you really want is a Fforde. At least you'll get your exercise, but forgive me if that's not what I thought libraries were supposed to provide. Different countries, different customs, hey?
And finally, and most importantly (the rest of this nonsense, nonsense though it is, I could live with), they are mean! Not just not nice, but rude on a good day and belligerent on a bad. A librarian made me cry -- a librarian!! Though it was only so extreme on one occasion, I have yet to have any librarian there regard me civilly. They purse their little lips and scan you over as if you're causing them severe delay by merely asking them to, say, check if a book is in shelving, which is, presumbaly, the job of a librarian. Or at least something that every other librarian I've enountered has done quite happily. These, though, don't seem to see their jobs as relating to anything with a bigger spine than a 12 inch cover. Consider yourself forewarned; read at your own risk.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
quicko: one john
One John, Two John, Red John, Blue John.
You think I'm going Dr. Suess with this, but I'm not. Far from it, I'm going biblical. It's confusing here, you see: they call the books "One John" and "Two John" instead of "First John" and "Second John."
One John, what's that? I've gone to church all my life and suddenly a new book pops in? And goodness knows there were already plenty of Johns in the Bible. One John, is that John John, as in the Gospel of John, between Luke and Acts? It is number one in order of the Johns. Or have Australians suddenly started using "one" as an article, making it not the standard three "a, an and the" but now "a, an, the and one"? They do do odd linguistic things here, maybe this is another.
And it is, but in a different way. In a very non-ordinal sort of way. Why they do it, or don't do it, rather, is academically intriguing, but practically annoying. It's First Peter for Pete's sake!
You think I'm going Dr. Suess with this, but I'm not. Far from it, I'm going biblical. It's confusing here, you see: they call the books "One John" and "Two John" instead of "First John" and "Second John."
One John, what's that? I've gone to church all my life and suddenly a new book pops in? And goodness knows there were already plenty of Johns in the Bible. One John, is that John John, as in the Gospel of John, between Luke and Acts? It is number one in order of the Johns. Or have Australians suddenly started using "one" as an article, making it not the standard three "a, an and the" but now "a, an, the and one"? They do do odd linguistic things here, maybe this is another.
And it is, but in a different way. In a very non-ordinal sort of way. Why they do it, or don't do it, rather, is academically intriguing, but practically annoying. It's First Peter for Pete's sake!
quicko: 6 pm curfew
I really can't believe how ridiculous it is, but everything closes at 6 pm on Saturdays in Sydney. Like everything. You could maybe find a pizza or a McDonald's if you're about to die of starvation, but all the other shops are closed up and vacant by right about 6:03. It's eerie, walking through major shopping areas and realizing that there is absolutely nothing you can buy. It's so bizarre -- the biggest city in Australia (a first world country, isn't it?!) and it's dead at 6 pm!! You're literally not able to spend any money. Hope your pockets are hole resistant.
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