There are few things that i can actually say that im in love with. People are not one of those things. Pie most definitely is.

One of my greatest loves are Airports.

I love airports and going to the airport more than i love downing a bottle of cough syrup on a rage fuelled bender. 

After spending large chunks of my life travelling, ive become familiar with certain airports and their little nuances. How some are massively spreadout to encompass all carriers (LAX - Los Angeles) to the one terminal bi-plane tin shed in the middle of a paddock (Altona Airport - Melbourne).

Airports to me are a micro-city where everything is offered to you if you pay ridiculous amounts of money for it. The smaller it is, the bigger the price which really, makes perfect sense in a "you cant get this shit anywhere else but here, buddy" way. The only thing thats free is the use of the bathroom, and even then, you pay for it in other ways like pregnancy from the toilet seat (ill never do THAT again!)

Travelling taught me to be able to sleep anywhere at any given moment. Narcolepsy at will. I have fond memories of being at the United Airlines terminal at 4pm, waiting for a flight that didnt leave till 10.30pm back to Australia and sleeping right next to a vacant terminal door for a couple of hours. I was roused from my sleep by the door slammed in my head when people started boarding the plane itsself. THANKS FOR THE WAKE UP CALL, UNITED!

Being that there's so few things to do at an airport terminal, i find myself wandering through the magazine aisles at the 10 different news agencies that i normally wouldnt find myself in on any given day of the week. Bridal magazines suddenly make sense to me, as if magically, i understand that a white see through floral print is stunningly less expensive than the fake pearl droplets attached to the outer dress pattern. Cheese eater monthly? sure! Tasty Cheddar is at it again! Golfers Quarterly? only quarterly?! Outrage!

Essentially, being at an airport makes me instantly stoned and able to comprehend the universe and all its facets.

This leads to the food situation. Of the many American and Canadian airports that ive been to, they have an affinity for "EXPRESSSSSSS" and "TO GO!", as if adding more S's and exclaimation marks will make the point more abundantly clear that you're going to be spending large quantities of time in the bathroom or in the hospital for a coronary.

These express food outlets have made my chest ache from simply looking at the images. In Montreal Airport, i looked at the local Burger King menu to find they had one of my favourite dishes "TO GO!", Poutine. Poutine shouldnt be made "TO GO!". Poutine should be savoured and cherished like the child that wasn't adopted in the family. Poutine from a BK menu is like being slapped in the face by a homeless person for not giving you a quarter for crack. Feels bad AND is infuriating!

But these little sidetracks dont discourage me from my love of the microcosm. If i want a crazy hamburger or chicken finger at 3am before my flight, baby, its there. If i want to get my customary rub down from security thats "purely random" at EVERY SINGLE AIRPORT IVE EVER FLOWN TO BECAUSE MY PASSPORT IS FLAGGED, baby, its there. If i want that bridal magazine because surely, someday my Prince or Princess Charming will come, baby, its there.

And thats where i wanna be, with my golfers quarterly in tow.

-Rick

At the moment, im sick.

Well, most people would be saying that ive always been mentally unstable, but thats another story altogether (i had to beat them to death with a shoe).

No dear reader, im talking about some sort of bronchitis-asthma-hayfever-ebola-esque coughing bug that i will forever call "YOU GODDAMN PRICK, LET ME GET A DECENT NIGHTS SLEEP".

As far as im aware, it came about a week or so ago and brought with it a delightful asthma attack that should have sent me to be hospitalised had it not been for my absolute stubbornness (stupidity) in saying "I dont need a doctor, i need a goddamn magician. Bring me Copperfield and a bowl of soup".

Obviously, by this stage, i was also delirious.

Right now im sort of OK. Im swallowing medication like i was a bored housewife that needed an escape from reality when Oprah wasnt on, but i still havent gone to the doctor OR cleaned my flat.

Thats right, Its mostly brought on by the dust in my flat.

Im aces during the day when im in my loungeroom or office where its relatively dust free. I say relatively, because i actually dusted these places within the last 4 months. My bedroom on the other hand is another creature that needs to be crushed by the mighty cleaning god THOR.

The bedroom hasnt been dusted (or vacuumed, or sprayed, or sheets washed, or any personal hygiene/waste collection) in the greater part of 6-8 months. Why? because i only sleep there. And being that im single and i hate most forms of life on this planet and constantly call them pregnant when they arent, im not going to have any company for a hell of a long time in my bed of one handed heathen desire.

SEXY LADIES BEWARE, IM ON THE PROWL.

This form of filth and layering of dust has given me classic hayfever symptoms, asthma inducing non-sleep periods and reckless abandonment of "recommended dosage" labels. What am i going to do about it? Probably nothing.

Stubborn and Lazy. Desire, thy name be Rick.

Dont even get me started on the state of my bathroom.

-Rick

Ever miss the briefcase?

One of the things i noticed during my stint working in the legal and banking district of my fair city was that every morning, i would be ran over by someone rolling a frigging suitcase to work.

A SUITCASE.

Not only the little overhead ones, but the big MASSIVE suitcases that you take away on holidays/hide dead bodies in.

What the hell is wrong with people that they cant carry a backpack or briefcase anymore? That they take home mountains of work overnight, JUST SO THEY CAN ROLL OVER MY FUCKING FOOT AT THE TRAIN STATION.

Honestly, if you're needing a damn suitcase to take to work with you every morning, get a goddamn car/taxi/shuttlebus and watch where you're damn well going. That and who really takes that much work home with them? Dont you people have, y'know, FAMILIES?! 

If one day i should be rolling my suitcase to work instead of the airport because i took home so much damn work, you have my permission to shoot me on site.

/rant.

-Rick

Iiiiiiiiiiits bitch and rant day!

Well, not really, but i have neglected this sucker for a week and bit, mostly due to the fact that i am now contracted full time for a major corporation doing business analysis. Sounds like a grown up job, right? well yeah, but its essentially a time waster and a brain drainer. 

I completely forgot how much i hate working full time for any sort of company and how much i miss dealing in social media every day. The previous six weeks of 'unemployment' were not only an eye opener, but the best 6 weeks without a job ive ever had. Productive, Informative and fun. Thats the way time off should be.

Now that im working back on the clock, i hate it. I hate going to an office every day. I hate seeing chirpy people that love the daily grind. Drinking coffee to stay awake, booze to get to sleep. Such souless and joyless lives. The interesting thing is that this company is TRYING to be less of a company and more like a 'fun' plalce to work. Im sorry, but just because you have cake on someones birthday and the occasional morning tea, doesnt make the place fun.

I go to work to work, not to have fun.

While i understand how much other people like having fun at work, i personally hate having to get up at 7am (technically 5am for me) and getting home by 6pm, effectively killing any sort of social life or feeling that i would have. Its a painful experience of working from 10am till 4pm in my pyjamas to that again.

Its only for 3 months though and it pays decently, but still, how much is my soul worth?

For the past few weeks, ive been going nuts on survivalism (wich ill do in my next post) and have been working on a way to leverage my insane amount of knowledge on certain things ive done in my working life, to make some money. Customer Service.

I have a second blog ( http://www.seo-mg.com ), slightly more professional and highlighting my Customer Service experience over the last 10 years, not to mention my Social Media and writing stuff as well. Copy Writing for a living would be the jam, but having a constant source of money coming in as i was teaching people how to improve their customer service would be even better.

So thats what im doing.

Im writing a new website for people to train in Customer Service. Examples of tone and inflection in your voice as well as key words that you should use to invoke better responses from people you're talking to. All the tips and tricks ive learned while being on the front lines of some of the largest and most successful companies in the world. Mix in some Social Media stuff and you're on your way. I just hope it works as im going to be pimping the tits off this sucker to make some bank.

In the great words of Todd Rundgren - "I dont want to work, i just want to bang on the drum all day"

-Rick