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My AYAD profile

Soon to be found on the AYAD website...

Cameron will be volunteering as a Curriculum Development and Teacher Trainer for the Carlos Hilado Memorial State College (CHMSC). In this role he will be reviewing the curriculum of the Bachelor of Science of Office Administration that the college offers; updating and improving it as necessary and then teaching the new and improved curriculum to the teaching staff within the program.
 

CHMSC is a public, state-owned college providing higher technological, professional and vocational instruction and training in science, agriculture and industrial fields. The Fortune Towne campus, where Cameron will be based, is a satellite campus located in the city of Bacolod. It primarily offers courses in business and management.

Cameron has completed a Bachelor of Business (Major in Computing and Information Technology) at the University of Western Sydney, a Graduate Certificate in Business Administration at the University of Technology, Sydney and most recently a Graduate Diploma in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages also at the University of Technology, Sydney. He has been working at the University of Technology, Sydney in a variety of roles, most recently as an Academic Programs Coordinator and as a casual lecturer in the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences. He hopes that these qualifications and work experiences will help him achieve his assignment goals.

Cameron has a desire for new experiences and is committed to personal growth.  He hopes that his placement in Bacolod city will allow him to fulfil these two ongoing life wishes.  His interests also include basketball, trying new food and travelling. He hopes to get numerous opportunities to do all three whilst on assignment.  

Oovie and the Volunteer



Oovie - It's almost a Movie but not. It's actually a box full of them.

Oovie. Owned by Hoyts.
You might have seen these little (big) Oovie boxes sitting around the place. I was hoping there was some chance of being able to purchase one of these machines and then make a profit off of it. Like you would be able to with an ATM that you restock and take $2 for every time someone uses it. Easy money? Unfortunately, these little doozies are owned by Hoyts. What isn't owned by one of these big fuck off companies anymore?

 

How to the little men even make a dime if it isn't through real estate and/or pimping?

 

I SUPPOSE if one wanted to, they could earn a few bucks through bounty hunting. But then you would need to compete against such luminaries such as Dog, the Bounty Hunter and his big breasted.. man-wife, whatserface.

 

Alternatively, you could take the less travelled road (by rich people) and decide to move to the Philippines for a certain period of time and complete an AYAD placement. Like me.

 

That's right, dear reader, I am moving to the Philippines in April. I'll bet you thought this was going to be mostly about those Oovie boxes, didn't you? Well, if you thought that, then you would be WRONG.

 

Hah!

 

Anyway, so my placement begins on the 23rd of April. I will be a Curriculum Development and Teacher Trainer in a college and be responsible for reviewing and updating the curriculum of the Bachelor of Office Administration. To accomplish this, I will be drawing on the vast experiences I have, sitting behind a desk and pressing buttons.

 

Over the next month or two, or three, I will be packing up my life. This includes (but is not limited to):

 

1. Finding someone to sublet our apartment
2. Getting thousands (not really thousands, but enough) of shots including one that stops me going the Old Yella' route AND one to stop me from getting some type of Japanese named mosquito virus
3. Organising my leave from work
4. Getting visas
5. Going training in Canberra
6. Eating
7. Keeping Fit
8. Saying Goodbye to friends, many enemies and 3 well-wishers, and last but certainly not least
9. Becoming a dinosaur.

 

So, lots to do. Muchos to grow, lots of extinction to be had.

 

Exciting Times. Happy 2011 Bloggosphere.

Google. Tell me the answer.

Just imagine your office was like a box....

I, like a whole range of people in the world, work in an office.

I can pretty safely say, that this is not particularly exciting news to anyone. It might be news to someone who doesn't know where I work or what I do - but to a majority of people - it's not news. It doesn't even register on the scale really.

Anyways, so my job has a fair amount of desk time. I sit behind/under a desk (are either of those statements correct really? Half my body is under the desk. Half my body sits next to the desk. My upper appendages (ie/ my arms) generally sit on the desk. Maybe I should just say that I sit around the desk. My body is a prepositional phrase compared to the desk. The desk is yin to my yang. I am water around the desk. Grasshopper. Wax on, Wax Off. Catching flies with my chopsticks is a waste of good chopsticks) while at work and spend a great deal of time interacting with computers.

I push the buttons to make it go on.

I push other buttons to make things happen on the screen.

 I am pushing buttons right now. Words appear in front of me. It's bloody amazing. The other people who work in my box also press buttons while at work. Their computers do things for them too. We all sit in a state of perpetual amazement at the things that our computers are doing.

Every now and again, I get interrupted by those other people who do the similar button pushing things that I do. Mostly, this tends to happen because we want to talk about the stuff that is happening on our screens. Sometimes, when you click a button, an bunch of letters pop up on your screen at once. The letters generally mean something. They tell you to press more buttons. Sometimes, the letters tell you to press buttons on another machine that sits on (yes, really.. on) the desk. This machine makes noises when you press the buttons. Occasionally, other people who use similar machines makes this machine make noises. To do this, they push buttons.

It's all hugely exciting.

The people who interrupt me sometimes don't understand how important it is that I continue to have the time and space I need to complete my button pressing. They use the beeping machine that sits on my computer to interrupt me. They don't seem to realise that they could continue to press buttons and achieve the same results as they do by using the beeping machine.

All these interrupts have given me this idea that everyone should think of an office like a box (See below).

Now I realise that the picture above is more of a square than a box (albeit, not entirely straight) but I like the sound of box better than square.

Anyways, so if you think of everyone who works in my office, as a smaller box (or square), you end up with a picture like this

The keen observer can probably recognise that there are different sized boxes within the office box. This accounts for the different sizes of each button pushers "office space". Office Space is a term I just came up with to take into account the gas-bagging and ego of each person that inhabits the office. In the example above, the office is working in harmony as there is no overlap between any of the workers and myself. I am free to hit my buttons as frequently, or infrequently as I desire, with little to no interruption. (Except if I need a break).

Now, if one of the workers leaves, there is a need to hire a new box. One of the important elements of hiring a new button pusher is taking into account whether their office space fits within the already existing, and unalterable boundaries of the office. The fixed lines of the Office Box just can't be moved. The only way beyond those lines are if you leave and go home (like below)

As you can see - I have left the office, and now I am at home, smoking. (Cos that is what people do when they go home I think). In situations where management (who aren't in the same box) hire a worker who has a different office space requirement than the person who left, there is the potential for CHALLENGES.

CHALLENGES are things that are actually PROBLEMS, except it is counter productive to say something is a PROBLEM because it does not present the CHALLENGE in a very positive light. A CHALLENGE is something you LOOK FORWARD to. A PROBLEM is a pain in the ARSE.

Above is my office, with the introduction of a new staff member. The new staff member (as you can see from the diagram) has a much larger Office Space requirement of the person who has left. This new person, through their large ego and time wasting abilities has brought about several "Challenge Points". A keen observer, will also notice, that there is a direct "Challenge Point" with me.

This particular "Challenge Point" has presented the PROBLEM where I cannot continue with my button pressing because of the OFFICE SPACE REQUIREMENTS of the new box.

Is there a fix for this? Well, as a matter of fact there is. There are several:

1) I leave the office, go home and have a smoke

2) The new person with the overly large OFFICE SPACE REQUIREMENT stops fucking calling me thereby reducing the amount of "Challenge Points".

3) I stop answering the phone

4) I lay waste to the new person, destroying their life and eating their children.

Hmmm, decisions, decisions....

Jeanie

As I sit here and listen to “here comes the Sun”, I look idly towards the outside world, thinking about the truisms that emanate from my ear-beatboxes.

Here comes the sun, and I say – it’s alright.

Applying that phrase to certain Gingers I know, I would say that they would take comfort in the fact that the Sun, is indeed, coming. SADS be gone with you.

Another little known fact, is that the Sun is actually coming. Stars are born out of gases, and Universe “dust” (both the seen and unseen variety). They live a charmed life, generally starting off with not a lot of substance. The little Walters gush out heat as they cavort around space, occasionally running into the legs of their elders, spraying their happiness across the lucky planets and their inhabitants. Those planet bound apes (or amoebas) look skyward with smiles on their expression makers as they realise that the Sun is coming. And it’s alright.

Meanwhile, in another galaxy, our Sun has reached a point in its life where it’s got old enough to get its shit together. The pieces fit nicely. It’s a great big ball of fire. It makes the earthlings happy. It’s got few planetary possessions to keep it amused when it feels bored (which is often).

Our Sun - known throughout space as “Jeanie BottleRocket” (Jean to “her” friends) has started to notice some changes in her body. Her hips are getting wider, she doesn’t smoke or set fire to things as regularly as what she used to. She thinks her core is getting colder. She doesn’t understand the reddening of her skin. She calls her neighbour, Alpha, and asks him if he knows what is happening.

Alpha tells Jean that she is getting “middle aged spread”. The time in every star’s life where age starts to catch up to them and they lose their elasticity. Jeanie starts panicking. Alpha, being somewhat or a wise Star, reassures Jeanie that the middle aged spread is only temporary – after a while, the middle starts to shrink back down, the redness disappears and you get to retire. Old, white and small. Alone, in a sea of twinkly twinkly stars.

Jeanie starts to think Alpha is an idiot.

Later that century, Jeanie thinks more about her future. If she is going to keep expanding, then it is going to be hard to stop her belly from resting over the top of the inner most toys. The ones she has been collecting for years and years. Little Mercury, always so close and loving. Venus, and Mars, so different, yet so similar, Jupiter, with its big red birth mark and her personal favourite, the one with the blue and green bits with the tiny little ginger who loves to smile at her. They will probably catch fire and burn, even the little Ginger. Jeanie feels so sad as she watches the little ginger slave away at her little button machine, staring miserably outside as the hideous clouds block all of Jeanie's sweet, soul nourishing light.

Jeanie wants to send a message to the ginger but doesn't know how. She wants to say to her "Here comes the Sun - and I don't mean to, but eventually I am going to kill you and all your friends because of my stupid fat star body. And I am sorry. Sorry little Ginger. Do do do do. It's not alright."

Fred

This year has been an interesting one for facing up to that old fellow that lurks at the end of every life.

No matter how rich, how poor, how fat, how thin, how bloody annoying, how attractive a person might be they are always in line to meet this guy. You might know him as Death. I like to call him Fred.

Fred is someone who doesn't really care too much about what you might have accomplished in your life. He thinks that no matter how brightly a light might shine, the damn thing has to go out at some point. Bulbs need replacing. A candle wick can only last so long before you gotta buy a new candle.

Fred makes people think interesting things. Sometimes, Fred doesn't really make people think, he makes people cry. Sometimes, he is a scary person. Not the type of guy you want to run into in a dark alley.

Other times, seeing Fred is a bit of a relief. You are not feeling too well for a while. You have tubes coming out of your stomach. Your hair has fallen out because you have been living off chemicals for the past 4 years. Things are getting a bit too hard in this time we call life. Fred is a nice face. Someone who can help you out with the pain.

I guess most of those things are pretty understandable. Fred occasionally might wear a Freddy Kruger mask, hold out a helping hand, tease you and call you names but it's all part of his charm (or lack there of).

One criticism that I have of Fred, is that when he decides to whisk away a loved one is that he doesn't really leave instructions on what the appropriate response is meant to be.

Should I feel emotional that Fred took my dad away? Yes - straight away, for a long while.
Should I feel emotional that Fred took my Aunt away? Well, a little bit. But not that much - at least not until the funeral when it felt like my face was exploding.
Should I feel emotional that Fred took my old boss away? No? Not really? Maybe later?

Maybe each time Fred comes around, he helps us to cope a little bit more each time by getting us used to the feelings that he creates.

You know, like any repetition eventually you gotta get used to it and better at it. Kinda like swinging a tennis racquet. If you keep swinging it, eventually your arm is going to get stronger and you are going to not feel the shock once you whack the ball back to your opponent so much.

When my Dad passed away, I had this uncontrollable feeling of loss come over me. My dad wasn't the perfect father but once a person is gone you realise that you no longer have the opportunity to say anything to them anymore. If there is anything unspoken that is something you just have to live with the rest of your life. Suck it up and keep going. Fred causes this but maybe that is part of his plan. Repetition helps you get better. The more returns of serve, the better you get at his game.

A good friend said to me "When you cry, you are only crying for yourself - your own loss." .

Whatever you make of Fred, the worst type of friend he can be is a neautral one. He is just there - once your loved one is hanging with Fred, they aren't going to be in a bad way. They are either going to be doing just fine - or doing really great.

Why you are crying is that Fred took your opportunity to tell someone that you liked them, that you enjoyed their company, that you still enjoy their company and you don't like it much that you aren't going to get the opportunity to eat pizza in front of the TV with them anymore. It all really sucks, but there isn't much you can do about it.

The next time, my Aunt went to hang with Fred. I was prepared a bit better. I had returned the ball once, my arm wasn't so sore this time. Only thing was, Fred had taken away this wonderful woman who was a great pizza eating companion for my Uncle and a loving mother to my cousins. That wasn't too great. Cue the tears. A loss for other people wasn't something I was so prepared for. Fred was giving me some more tips on how to hold my serve.

Lesson Learned, Fred. Thanks.

The next time Fred came over, he started showing me how to return serve with my backhand.

He decided that it was time to drop round to collect my old boss - pretty unexpectedly.

I'm waiting for a reaction for this one. I felt sad yeah, but there haven't been any tears. Maybe the lessons Fred has given me have worked and I am ready to be a pro on the Fred Tour of Death.

I assume Fred will let me know if I'm wrong - he hasn't let me down yet.