So how do large businesses decide to put their customer relations in the hands of automated telephone systems? I received a call on my work extension yesterday and as I answered it with a cheery "Good Morning" the computer voice at the other end talked over the top of me (I know, should be used to that!) and asked for the person who sat in this chair previously, saying it was Westpac calling with important customer information. I really did try to play the game - waiting for the option which allowed me to tell them that person was no longer with the company. (Reminds me, I must change my details with my bank - what if they're doing the same thing with an old contact for me?) In the end, after my "hello hello" routine (familiar to the others from when my phone was on mute) and "person person" failed, I hung up ... defeated - although not as badly as the time the telemarketer hung up on me.
The election campaign is getting personal. Tony has pulled out the big guns ... he's married and he and his wife know what it's like to raise a family in Australia. Poor Julia - single, not-yet-a-mother, surely can't hope to compete especially now that Tony's wife has joined him on the campaign trail as he promises child maintenance payments will be indexed should his Government be elected.
Even though MasterChef has ended, it continues to make the news. 5.7 million Australians - which we are assured is 1 in 4 of the population - tuned in to watch the final. Now how on earth do they know that? It's not as though they have a ratings box attached to every set - and if our sets are somehow collecting information about our viewing patters and habits (ahem, lifestyle), surely it's an invasion of privacy not to let us know.
Perhaps even more popular than MasterChef itself are the live blogs as the program was broadcast. Reading them is a bit similar to watching with S (hang on ... are they tapping into Latimers and taking the words out of her mouth and claiming them as their own?) ... especially with comments like, as Adam was opening the pressure cooker ... had the dish blown up ... well, actually it had burst into flames ... as the lifting of the lid revealed the huge flaming conflagration of the MasterChef logo as they went to yet another commercial.
We miss MC (and MM - which goes without saying) and had much discussion about what would replace it ... what could successfully fill the void? For a very worried moment I thought it might be lifestyle programs but S has agreed to a daily dose of Frasier - and luckily I have 5 seasons worth on DVD that should keep us going for a while or at least until Junior MasterChef starts.
So what have the kids been up to? Em is definitely getting bolder and streaked out of the bedroom this morning - straight to the laundry. She didn't even spare a sideward glance for P who was guarding our bedroom door - from or against what we don't know ... or perhaps it was to make sure I didn't leave without giving her those breakfast cookies. She (P) has been a bit low key lately - which I think is because she realizes you aren't just away for the weekend on one of those cheap fares. We are making sure to give her lots of love and affection, ball throwing (but not too much ... although I did get the ball as far as the shed yesterday) and checking her to make sure she isn't carrying any nasties.
Which is more than you can say for the car yard sales manager who took a man for a test drive earlier today. After the man pulled a gun on him, near the Turf Club, he willingly got out of the vehicle and watched as the man drove off in the $47,000 late model Commodore. The car has now been recovered and police are interviewing two men over the episode.
Elsewhere, actually near Cape Tribulation, the $3 million man has been found. He had attempted to disguise his appearance - it would be interesting to know how - but other campers recognized him and called police. (Why is it that in most reports they say "alerted" police?)
The Ferris Wheel is up at the Ekka - but don't think I'll be mentioning that to R when they come over for dinner tomorrow. S is making her lemon chicken, with poultry procured from the purveyor (aka butcher) in front of the cinemas. (Not sure why we are doing dinner rather than dinner and the movies - but fear that might have been me - based on J's availability.)
In honor of MasterChef -and also because S was not feeling 100%, I cooked dinner tonight - if you call toasting bread "cooking" and toast and vegemite "dinner".
Otherwise all is well at Latimers. The cats are all in their usual possies, and P is at S's feet, although in a minute, when we're all ready for bed, I'll take her up to her bed and settle her for the night. Oh ... and did I mention - life is especially good now that the mail has made its way home and is sitting on the kitchen table waiting for S's undivided attention on the morrow.
