Posts Tagged ‘Numbers’

Fire

Posted: February 9, 2009 in Fly-By-Night
Tags: , , , , , ,

I am stricken by the number of dead in the Victorian bushfires.

Early yesterday afternoon, it was 16. Then it jumped to 47. Less than two hours later, it was at 66, and by evening, it was in the high seventies.

This morning, it reached 108. Then 116.

Less than half an hour ago, it reached 128.

31 fires are still burning. More than 5,000 people are homeless, with more than 750 homes destroyed.

I’ve never been strong with numbers. But these overwhelm me.

 

Update, 10/02/2009:  173 are confirmed dead, but police think the toll could rise as high as 300. Nearly 1,000 homes have been destroyed. What can anyone say to that?

Update, 12/02/2009:  The toll stands at 181, but police have stopped updating it. I don’t blame them.

Update, 05/03/2009: Not all the fires are out, but according to today’s Age, the worst of the season is over. Black Saturday has killed 210 people, but some remains are still being identified. Still: the rain has come.

Unhelpful

Posted: September 13, 2008 in Life/Stuff
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

I’ve been living in Melbourne a good two years now. I’ve made friends here, some of whom I see more than once a week, while I’ve lost contact (insofar as Facebook allows this to happen) with people back in Sydney. It happens – it’s life. We roll with the punches, grow and flourish as individual blossoms in the metaphoric Garden of Whatever, catch up where we can, move on when we can’t. It’s a healthy Goddam process.

So why are all the numbers in my mobile phone exactly the fucking same as they were five years ago?

I’m not even kidding. Tonight, I’m looking to call someone about the address of a party we’re heading to – we’ve been there before, but can’t remember the route – and what do I find? One releveant number. One. In two years.

It’s like being in the Matrix: I walk around, blythely assuming my ability to call anyone I know, only to take the red pill and discover that a full half of all my contacts are utter strangers. I mean, Colette? Who the hell’s she? Or Bren? Or Debbie? Or Emma? More importantly, why don’t I ever put in last names? Or, let’s go crazy, some form of useful identification, like ‘random chick I must’ve met at a college party, maybe she had brown hair and a weird laugh’? Because this is just ridiculous.

With the exception of about four numbers, the rest are work contacts for jobs I’ve long since left, friends from early highschool I see maybe once a year, and family: in short, numbers relevant only to my CV (where they’re recorded anyway), my life between the ages of 14 – 19, or which I know by heart.

Well, I’m taking a stand. Tonight, by gum, I’m going to do an overhaul. I’m going to find out the numbers of friends, and call them.

Eventually.