Tonight, however, I achieved a minor victory for prospective car buyers across the great state of Victoria.  You see, fortunately for us little consumers we have these wonderful laws which require Licenced Motor Car Traders (LMCT) to disclose their trading licence number when they advertise a vehicle for sale.  You will find this inconveniently placed at the bottom of each ad on the various websites, such that you have to scroll to get to it.  However, once you have this little gem, if the dealer is in Victoria, you can use the LMCT number to get their address from the Department of Justice Public Register.  Then you can happily go car browsing and shopping without them knowing that you’re coming.

Web usability: 1  Car industry: 0

Tell your friends.

(It’s been a while between posts, I know.)

Tim hears what’s going on and appears from the kitchen, grabbing some towels on the way and he’s in there helping to get the cleanup effort started.  Within three minutes, order was restored to the world of the loungeroom.

Tim’s rationale, which I liked enough to blog about, was that everybody finds it really depressing when they have to clean up something that they’ve just spilled themselves.  However, when you’re not the clown who did the spilling, it actually isn’t that hard to sort it out quickly because you’re not beating yourself up about being a klutz at the same time as solving the problem.

So, the moral of the story is, next time someone spills something, help them to clean it up and then explain the theory to them and invite them to pay it forward. I hope I’m nice enough to be helpful (and that I actually remember) when the shoe eventually ends up on the other foot.

I have question marks everywhere at the moment and I’m not entirely sure what to do with them. The only resolution I’ve been able to come to, is that the question marks have been there all along. It’s so easy to construct a sense of safety from things that you tell yourself will never change. Yet here I am, living on the opposite side of the city to everything that’s familiar to me, working in a field that I never thought I’d work in. It’s hard sometimes. I miss the familiarity of a lifestyle where predetermined actions produced predictable results. I miss being part of a wider social network where I have a deep history of interconnectedness with the others around me. Unquestionably, I have a few runs on the board over here but it’s not the same.

Part of that is just the reality of relocating, making new connections. I’m cool with that. Things will start to feel a bit more consistent with time. I have consolidated some good friendships here, so this isn’t an exercise in comparing the old to the new.

The difference is that a long time ago, I had an unwavering, somewhat innocent ability to trust that everything was OK and to not be threatened by looming question marks because I thought I had a bunch of full-stops around me - things that were definite and resolute, holding me in place.

I’m starting to entertain the idea that full-stops are the things we use to make ourselves feel safe from the question marks. It’s not until one of our non-negotiable assumptions is disrupted by circumstance that we start to wonder if we really do have all of the answers that we need. I think some people probably spend their whole lives defending their full-stops because this feels much, much safer than being confronted by things that they can neither reconcile nor control. I think this is what it means to be religious.

Of course, it’s extremely trendy to be relativistic and not commit verbally to believing anything. I think that’s probably a cop-out though because on the surface you’re making sure that no one ever has a chance to tell you that you’re wrong… but you’re still being just as defensive about the question marks as the people who try to fight them by being dogmatic. I don’t think anyone is prepared to give up all of their full-stops. I don’t think I am. I’m not sure where this leaves me.

This post is way too introspective but I hope you like the picture - I made it myself.

“Hey, you know in that situation when I <did/said something>, well I think I gave you <this> impression, and well, what I really meant to convey was <this other thing>.”

I just spent about 10 minutes replaying one of those moments that happened some months ago. Nothing major. Just an off-the-cuff comment that shot out of my mouth, that was true to what was happening in my heart at the time, but could have easily had a more awkward meaning read into it. The funny thing is that the people who were around when it happened probably don’t remember it. But quite obviously, part of me is still embarrassed. There is something I don’t like about that - the desire to “explain” or “clarify” myself like that. It has an element of weakness to it that I find quite disconcerting.

Do you ever find yourself in a similar headspace?
Why do you think that’s the case?
What does it tell you about yourself in light of the specific situation?