Mundane Murmurs

2011-11-09T00:52:00.001+11:00

One of the Sydney ferry's (as you can see Sydney is at the forefront of technology with these beasts - not).

It's been a while ...

2011-11-08T23:45:00.001+11:00

I haven't posted on here for 6 years. It took me almost a whole day to remember my old log on. Then as google had since purchased Blog Spot, the old log in wouldn't work. Painful to say the least but here I am, nothing if not persistent.

And to move into modern technology I am typing this from my iPhone. So needless to say this post may be short, about nothing (well nothing really unusual about that) and seemingly mindless. It's late(ish) and I need to be up early as I am moving house tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, then to clean. And I will go on Monday with the dogs.

Ok well signing off, I will try not to leave it so long between posts next time and think of a good story for you. After all you would think I would have at least one good story to tell after 6 years.

AWOL

2005-08-19T04:48:00.000+10:00

Hello all, or noone as the case may be - lol.

I have been away in effect for 8 months. My reason, well alot of things have happened. I have left my job, taken leave and still am on leave for that matter. I am looking for another job and a few months back was totally disheartened by the whole situation.

My life has been totally turned upside down and I no longer even read blogs anymore, whiich was something I loved to do.

Now I play an online game which is a bit more fun than I thought it would be inititally.

Here is a link if your interestred.

Anyhow I just felt like writing a few lines. Yes I am still alive. I know this isn't very interesting but I hope to soon get back into it because I feel that my life will soon have some normalcy back in it.

Hi to all who I have left behind and hopefully I'll be back soon.

N

Mosquitoes – Mans deadliest enemy

2005-01-08T19:47:00.000+11:00

Last week was a short week here, well work wise anyhow (I guess if you look at it too analytically all weeks are seven days – so there is never really a short week - ha ha). And Monday being a public holiday I didn’t have to drag my lazy ass back to work until Tuesday. So I awaken after my brief holiday stint (I had the 3 days off between Christmas and New Year), get up not only not refreshed and ready to go to work for another year but my eye wont open properly, yes only one, the right one if it is important to know.

So I’m thinking crazy stuff right, a bit of a “what the” situation. So I drag myself to the bathroom for the normal morning cleansing and catch a look at myself in the mirror. And what do I see (other than my normal radiant beauty of course). My eye is swollen almost closed (right one if you didn’t catch that a few sentences back). Looks a bit like someone gave me a good wallop but without any bruising whatsoever.

Now I have the quandary, to work or not to work…. So being the keen employee I am I decide not to after all I may have some crazy new disease. Now this presents another problem, to not go to work the day after a public holiday requires a medical certificate, you know a “Nord was unable to attend work today as she was sick” from the doctor. So because my doctor didn’t open til after 9 am and the chances of getting an appointment the day you call are slim to none, I called the I have no money and don’t have to pay medical centre. The only problem with this is it’s a first come first serve basis, now I called at 8am asked about the wait time (which was already an hour). And then asked if I could come down put my name down and go home and come back in an hour, which I was told I could. They won’t take appointments you have to go down to the centre.

So anyway off I go half blind in the car and it has just started to rain (this has relevance later in the story). So I’m driving along, the roads kinda slippery, I’m driving too fast (as usual) but made it to the medical centre without incident – almost… so I am driving along and see the medical centre on my right (we drive on the left hand side of the road to avoid confusion for the next bit) as I am on a majorish road it has a median strip and it has no break so I have to drive up to the roundabout another block up so I can go around and come back on the right (well left) side of the road so I can get into the medical centre.

So as I come up to the roundabout (it’s a give way to your right scenario) I think (oh so wrongly) that nothing is coming so slow a little but not to a stop, then I see the car, the one I have to stop and give way to barrelling onto the roundabout and I hit the breaks, only for my car to NOT grip on the road in the rain and to begin to slide toward the round about… or it would have if my tyre hadn’t hit the median strip (which is what caused this hassle to start with) and I bounced off, and to a stop, thank God. But all this activity was accompanied with those very pretty screeching noises of an accident, but thankfully there was no bang at the end. So what did I do? I think I muttered some profanity under my breath, tried to calm my breathing and heart rate, and then continued on my (5 second) journey as though nothing had happened.

So now that I had safely arrived I went in to be put next in line (after the hundreds who were already there) to have the receptionist say to me “So you have a sore eye” – oh my God, what gave it away? The fact that if it was any bigger it would have poked into you even though I’m standing over a meter away? Anyhow, I digress, I get my name put down I confirm the wait (yes still an hour) and I tell her I am going and will be back in an hour. So off I go and I get home without incident. I get an ice pack put it on my eye (yes with a cloth I am not a total spaz) and lie on my bed until its time to return. Now little did I know that this ice pack would have a significant effect on the swelling and reduce it by more than half, but it was still a little swollen so I should still be ok to get the certificate, so off I go back. I go to the desk and tell them I am back, the wait has increased (surprise, surprise) so I sit down to wait, in a darkened corner (well ok it was just an alcove but it’s my story) to avoid all ridicule (I have read the hunchback of Notre Damme). Now after I have been sitting there a further 15 minutes a lady with 2 young girls sits opposite me, now the older of the 2 girls about 5ish starts to whisper to her mother while pointing at me and I give the little girl the death stare (with couldn’t have been pretty with the eye) and she stops half was through her sentence and as her mother is preoccupied she doesn’t really pay attention to the little girl. This is the reason I sat here to start with, to avoid all that crap, I wasn’t sending out “come join me” invitations.

Anyhow another 15 minutes and I poke around in my handbag for a little mirror (honestly as a girl this is one of the best things I could ever have bought – except it has a magnified side – DAMN some things you just don't need to see that close). Anyway I look at my eye now to see the swelling has once again significantly reduced. So now paranoia sets in, what am I going to say to the doc when I finally get to see him and the swelling is gone? As I mentioned I called in to work and with the public holiday I needed a certificate no matter what. Umm… very interesting going in and saying to the doc… “Well doc you wouldn’t believe it but when I got up my eye was swollen closed, but because you spazs have taken over 4 hours to see me (ok maybe not all of that time was their fault but close) my eye has completely gone down – so umm yeah… any chance of a certificate?”

But as luck would have it, thankfully I was the next person called, I went in to see the doc, Nathan (who incidentally introduced himself twice to me in a two sentence period – I can see why he doesn’t have his own practice) and also my eye was still a little swollen and red. So anyhow he poked around a bit, told me it wasn’t infected and he diagnosed me with a – da da da daaaaa “mosquito bite” he said it should be completely gone by the following day, he gave me certificate and said I did the right thing, he said you should never take risks with your eyes (which I guess is a valid point). So I went home put the ice pack back on and slothed around for the rest of the day, shortly after I had finished at the doc the swelling was pretty much gone anyhow.

Mosquitos bad - unless of course you want a day off.

A Whitetail, New Year and a Haunted House

2005-01-02T01:31:00.000+11:00

Sorry about the extended break. The work issue is not yet done and I am still hanging (oh well) but enough of that (and Regan if you’re still about – no it wasn’t sexual (thank God)).

So I killed a White-tailed Spider today, it was climbing up the wall and it was kinda big. I squashed it with a rather large book (yes, ever the hero). They can give a very nasty bite that in some people ulcerates and doesn’t heal (forever – so I’m told). Ok away from the Discovery Channel. Anyhow now with my superstitious mind I am waiting for it to rain. But it hasn’t so far.

As for New Year, boy was I a Nigel No Friends this year. I did get invited to a party at a good friends house but would have to travel almost the breadth of the Country to get there (5 or 6 hours I think) so I piked. So what did I do? I played on my computer a bit and then called my mum to wish her a happy New Year and watched the fireworks on TV. It’s actually pretty impressive to watch them come of the bridge, if you ever get a chance to see it, it's awesome. Last night it was 15 minutes of continuous fireworks, it was amazing. Ok, enough of my loser complex telling you all how great the fireworks on TV were (ha ha ha).

Oh something interesting I did do last week (when I was home at the parentals) is go with my little bro (18) to a place called Monte Cristo in a town called Junee. Now this house is the most haunted house in Australia, and if you have a look at the site some crazy stuff has happened there. Now of course I go with my bro who is convinced we will see a ghost or something will happen and you know crazily enough something did. As we were walking up a tiny stair case I look up at 18 who is running up it, I didn’t think much of it and began to ascend myself only to get a tightening in my chest and a heavy feeling on me (hard to describe but it was like being weighted down), it was honestly a struggle to get up the stairs, I kinda dismissed it but when I asked 18 later when we were having afternoon tea, if he felt anything on the stairs he described the exact same thing to me as I felt. Crazy stuff. Later we asked the owner who said many people have that happen on the stairs he said a little girl was killed there, apparently her nanny dropped her down them. Although he said that the nanny insisted that the baby was pulled from her arms (by a ghost). Anyhow…. spooky…. Also I took photos of absolutely everything and when we got home I have one photo that 18 insists is the “money shot” and he thinks you can see an orb in the photo (which I think you can too) and weirdly what looks to be someone’s pant legs in the photo, in the fireplace (and no, there was no screen). Anyhow I will post it up think what you will, it may be nothing, the photo, by the way was taken with a digital camera (I have no idea how to edit the photo and it has not been changed in any way – and hell, why bother) but as with all good ghosty photos it is a bit blurry.

Oh and they do overnight stays with candle light tours, we are both going to go back to get the bejesus scared out of us – it should be awesome. Oh and the other brother (21 now) stayed home because he didn’t want to be late for work – ha ha ha ha – he starts work at 5 (pm) and the place was only an hour away from mums town (where he was working) and we left at 10 (am) but to put it all into perspective he is the one who “holds the bags” at amusement parks rather than go on the rides, not exactly an adventuresome lad, but oh we’ll, each to their own.

So, HAPPY NEW YEAR and I hope you all had a great Chrissy.

Odds and sods

2004-12-02T22:23:00.000+11:00

OK, today is December 1st. I have been very slack on the blogging front. What have I been up to? Ok I will do a quick recap. I took photos as demanded for you Regan, only to discover that my digital camera will no longer download to my PC (WHOOPIE) I ask my boy for some tech support (as this is – after all – his job) his response, “baby reload the software” Ummm… never would have thought of that…. yeah right , how about “Tried that already” (Twice). So sorry, no photos (until I can get it working again, anyhow).

I sent off my final Uni assignment, only to receive it back and find out I had completed it on the wrong topic “Invertebrates, Vertebrates… WTF? Is there even a difference? (Ok, ok, I know there is, but man the words are so close, teach me not to read the subject properly, that’s for sure. But I must say even though my lecturer wrote me a short and very blunt note on how I did the wrong thing, she did give me 15 out of 30 so I can’t really bitch about it and it does look as though I will pass the subject after all (thank you God).

I finally got the insurance back, ch-ching. Only thing is I now don’t want to spend it, but I can see with Christmas coming up a chunk of cash will be drained for presents, etc. You know I really need to talk to the parentals about having 4 kids; this doesn’t really work out for me the older and richer one who can afford to give decent gifts. And before you get a complex, yes I am richer than my brother who is a jobless student, and my other brother who works for a dollar an hour at a certain Fast food Chicken store (oh let’s call it KFZ) or so he give the impression that this is his pay rate.

I have also been having trouble with my boss at work and filed a complaint (this is the main reason I haven’t been blogging) I had had a lot of work to do in regard to this and have been very concerned about it, but now everything is happening) and as for more about it – yes the confidentiality clause which says I cannot discuss it, I wonder how far that goes, and if I hear the term “Business as usual” one more time, I think I’ll be sick. Anyhow let’s move on……

It has become summer overnight I believe (and in all my craziness I have yet to go swimming in the new pool, but I will, oh yes I will). It was a hideous 42 degrees yesterday and the hot (yes HOT) breeze or should I say hurricanal (is that a word? the spell check doesn’t seem to think so.) wind almost whisked me away as it fried my skin and burnt most of the hair from my body as I headed for the car. Man I just love summer (not).

Max is good, he’s not loving the heat either and now spends most of his quality time under the porch, well at least he has shade. Next doors dog (Barky) is very close to getting special treat all for him for Christmas to curb the barking… but we’ll see. After all ‘tis the season (ohhhh, to be jolly….ummm, must work on that).

I am however looking forward to Christmas, mum has (as tradition states) told me every single present she has got me, just to make sure I am ok with it, and if I’m not, well she has already got it for me so too bad (oh I wonder why she even asks). But as I was stating back a few paragraphs, Christmas for the fam, yay me, presents for all. I asked mum for some help on what to get the sibling, her first question. “How much do you want to spend?” My response, as always “Nothing” (I don’t know why she still asks). So all in all I get a sweeping I have no idea, thank you mum and back to square one. Oh well. I will get them something eventually, I have always been a Christmas Eve shopper, I mean the shops stay open until midnight for a reason right?

Oh and to make things worse it’s my older/younger brothers 21st in a week. What to get him, well same as always, I have no idea. I’ll (hopefully) think of something.

So, I am babbling and the convo is flying all over the place and have no constant train of thought. I shouldn’t have stayed away so long. I think I have forgotten how to write (as if I ever knew).

Well that will have to do for the mo, my best wishes to everyone for the holiday season, and my eternal jealousy for those with snow, think of me as I am sweating my ass off as you are cosied (also not a word, Word XP I thank you) in front of the fire place. I know I would rather be there with any of you than here in this heat. Tootle pip.

Insurance

2004-11-06T16:51:00.000+11:00

Today I have finally done my insurance, yes I know it's taken a while, I think I was hassled into it. But now I am finally home for the day, I have been running around getting quotes and codes from not so helpful or friendly shop assistants for the last 4 hours.

The value all up of the claim about $2,500.00, hardly seems worth it for the hassle (come on now – who am I kidding – lol). But the worst thing about it is that I will have to go back out and buy all the stuff now after going around and getting the quotes. Well at least I now know where everything is in the stores.

The worst event of the day was the second store I went to, I politely asked if I could get a quote only to be told that “I need to make an appointment” and the manager “was much too busy”. God it is a department store for Christ’s sake. Then the manager rudely informed me they do not work for the insurance company but for their customers. I was oh so close to saying the “what am I a ham sandwich” but no, I am polite (at times). Any he asked if I could come back on Wednesday morning. I informed him no, I actually work during the day (funny that).

I told him I was happy to get the prices and give it to them to do me up the quote and I will come back and pick it up when it was done – after all it’s not rocket science. He reluctantly agreed, but constantly advised me it would not be ready before Wednesday – yeah, whatever.

So anyhow I have got it all ready and am super keen to send it off finally but now have something else (other than my procrastination) hold it up. Oh well fingers crossed it will be done by the end of the week and sent away.

Addict

2004-11-02T01:06:00.000+11:00

I am addicted to this game. Have a play - I love it. Don't worry it has no nudity and is some harmless fun.

Oh and as for why I haven't been around, well the cats out of the bag (thanks baby). And I have been going through a bit at work and have had Uni stuff to do, which is now finally over. After this week everything I need to have done should be resolved and I can get back to the serious blogging. I hope everyone is well and I hope to get back to it soon.

Registered Post

2004-10-25T22:32:00.000+10:00

Today I sent a parcel to a friend in the States (don’t ask me who and I won’t lie about it). The funny (peculiar more than ha ha)thing is I decided to send it registered post. Now the parcel isn’t worth mega bucks, all up it’s worth maybe $50.00 but I wanted to register it mostly to make sure it got there.

Now I asked about sending it this way and was told “Oh no you can’t register it because it’s too big for the registered overseas post envelopes and you have to put it in one of those”. Now while I am standing there trying to digest why the hell I can’t pay for this service and be done with it I will never know. I was still a little confused at the logic. It’s on par with telling someone that they can’t send a letter as they have no envelopes. Well I guess in a way that's exactly what he did say.

But anyhow in my confusion I let it go, I got a bubble wrap envelope (a big one) put in my packages, including the obligatory Vegemite (a must in all foreign parcels leaving these great shores). I have assured the recipient that it lasts forever so if they don’t want it to keep it as I am sure to visit one day and I will eat it.

The kicker, well the postage (and it was unregistered!!) It cost me $20.00 to post a parcel worth only a little over that. Still I can’t complain, when I was in the States many, many moons ago I made my mum send me some Cadbury Chocolate (Australia has the nicest Cadbury Chocolate in the world) and we were staying with an ex – Oz who hadn’t had any for years. So as a thank you I got my mum to post 2 blocks over (500g). The Chocolate cost mum around $4.00 to buy and the postage was $16.00 – I still hear about that to this day... Parents, man you would have thought she would have been happy with all the stuff I bought back for her!

Underpants Gnomes

2004-10-22T18:11:00.000+10:00

Today I got up and went for a shower before going to work – as most of the planet does I would imagine (if you don’t you are stinky and should have a shower before you leave the house for work (or lacquer on the BO bash (aka deodorant)). I got out, still half asleep (as always) and dried off, made my way to the laundry to look for suitable clothes to go to work in (in a towel – well ok I mostly go in a towel).

For a little background, I wash my clothes, put them in the drier (most of my clothes have never seen a clothes line (as a matter of fact, I’m not even sure I have one)). So anyhow from the drier they make their way to the laundry floor/ironing basket – they only hit the floor as the ironing basket is filled so high it’s almost as tall as me (this has so little relevance unless you know my height so it’s 5ft8). Now if you come within a meter or so of the laundry basket you get that strange cold feeling of abandonment, see the occasional tumbleweed roll past and you back away. The ironing basket is a scary place. I don’t think it has seen the iron for years. In fact, in the last 5 years I have ironed everything in it once, I should just throw all the stuff away as I obviously never wear it, but who knows I will once again do the five yearly iron and find stuff I forgot I had – it will be like going on a shopping spree for clothes without having spent any money – but it’s not due for another 2 years. Anyhow in the mean time I wash and I do iron the essentials for work – I iron in the morning before work the outfit of the day on a “need to iron” basis, one day they will invent wrinkle free clothes and I will be saved. Anyhow this has nothing to do with the story and is a lot of waffling.

So back to it, today I head down to said basket, looking for the obvious pants, shirt, bra and undies. Now the pants are black crepe, fairly easy to spot toward the top, ok got them, the blouse, white also easy to spot, got that, bra well this item tends to work it’s way deep into the basket and I have to do some serious hunting but by some lucky break I noticed this item also on the top so got that too but undies, umm, no – not a pair (why are they called a pair I wonder?) to be seen. Now I know I have more than one, two or even 10 pairs and I know I washed every single item of clothing a few nights back, so where the hell are they all? I hunt around for a good 5 minutes tipping out the basket and picking through items one at a time until I find one pair (a rather sad looking grey pair (this is the colour they are – they are not faded or stained grey), not granny panties but they were close to it – not sure how I even have that pair but I can’t stop to debate whether they are fashionable enough to wear as I am now running late. I did (very) briefly (he, he ‘brief’ly -I made a joke) consider (not too seriously though) going commando, but knowing my luck I would rip my pants or something would happen and all would be revealed to the world , and the world (and I for that matter) are just not ready for that yet.

So what the hell happened to all my undies? Did you see the South Park episode with the Underpants Gnomes, how they kept stealing all the underpants to take over the world (it’s been awhile, I don’t really remember if this was the plotline, but I think that was the gist). But I think this is what’s happening to me, I think I am down to only one or two pairs now and I really can’t afford to loose anymore or commando will no longer be a choice, it will become my only option. What’s that I hear you say – just buy more? No I couldn’t I don’t want to be helping the Gnomes in their bid to takeover the planet. Lucky tomorrow is Saturday and it’s not essential I wear undies if I choose to hang out at home all day. I will just have to keep the two pair I have left under lock and key, I need them to wear if I want to ever leave the house again.

Back to the land of Blog

2004-10-21T20:45:00.000+10:00

So I have been away from Blogdom (obviously) no reason for it other than the “I have been living” (amazing how much time that takes up) and working (that also sucks quite a bit of my time).

What have I been up to? Nothing of consequence. I have had Uni stuff to do (as always), my boy is riding my ass (ummm….) about not doing my taxes (ok in his defence I haven’t done them for 4 years), I have the whatever factor going on pretty high with them but because of the hassling I finally called my accountant yesterday, who remembered me, laughed at my lack of lodgement and told me to send up the papers and he will do it in the next week or so – so his wish is my command – I’ll sort it on the weekend and fingers crossed for a big 4 year refund (or a little jail time for out standing fines – whatever…). But the accountant said it should all be good so here’s hoping.

I still have to sort the insurance, I haven’t done anything other than take some photos, I got a courtesy call today to ask me if I still wanted to go ahead with the claim, I told the guy yes I did and he told me that was fine. I just asked him out of curiosity how long I had to make the claim and you know what he said “oh indefinitely”, made me a little curious why he called to gave me the hurry up, but yes I could do with the money back – no bastard would give me a bill to pay when the insurance came back in and after everything with the move I am all poor (yeah, yeah, boo hoo to me…).

My ASDL, oh man, don’t get me started, though my numerous complaints I have gotten my first months fees refunded and any excess usage refunded to me also – tell me how my PC can upload and download info while it is turned off please, please… Tech support? You can’t tell me, oh you have to transfer me to billing…whatever, just do it…. Unfortunately many, many calls went something alone these lines and I am more than jack of it and the tards at tech support, but yes here I am on the net, I have managed to work out a way to connect, something to do with the phone and having the handset off the hook – must be a dodgy line or something – I have no idea and neither does tech support, but I can get it to connect and if one more of those tech support tards tell me it is a problem with my pc, I may go on a rampage. (Ok not really, but I have stopped being polite on the phone to them).

Anything else? Oh the house is still a brothel (untidy that is, not a house for women of loose morals) I still have it in unpack mode. I mean to clean it and say that I will do it every weekend and then I just can’t be bothered, if I kicked in it would only take a few hours, whatever I will get to it in due course. Oh and last night dishwater number 2 (I had another one when I first moved in and the door leaked and the owner swapped it for another) leaked all over the floor last night. I have so no luck with water. It is my bane. Oh and did I mention the roof of this place leaks? The owners come over and assured me it’s fixed but I won’t really know until it pisses down and I can see if swimming in the kitchen once again becomes and option.

Oh on a good note, at work we piloted a new PC system and were all give a $50 Liquorland (they sell grog in special shops dedicated to the cause here, you cant buy it anywhere else) voucher to spend as I will. Nice gesture, lucky I actually partake in the occasional beverage. Hic....

Out - of - Office

2004-10-11T11:03:00.000+10:00

Tired of those uncreative messages or can't think what to put into the Out-of-the-Office reply, try one of these.

1: I am currently out at a job interview and will reply to you if I fail to get the position. Be prepared for my mood.

2: I'm not really out of the office. I'm just ignoring you.

3: You are receiving this automatic notification because I am out of the office. If I were in, chances are you wouldn't have received anything at all.

4: Sorry to have missed you but I am at the doctors having my brain removed in preparation for my promotion to management.

5: I will be unable to delete all the unread, worthless emails you send me until I return from vacation on 18/10. Please be patient and your mails will be deleted in the order they were received.

6: Thank you for your email. Your credit card has been charged $5.99 for the first ten words and $1.99 for each word thereafter.

7: The e-mail server is unable to verify your server connection and is unable to deliver this message. Please restart your computer and try sending again.' (The beauty of this is that when you return, you can see how many in-duh-viduals actually did this over and over).

8: Thank you for your message, which has been added to a queuing system.
You are currently in 352nd place, and can expect to receive a reply in approximately 10 weeks, if I am still around then.

9: Please reply to this e-mail so I will know that you got this message.
I am on holiday. Your e-mail has been deleted.

10: Hi. I'm thinking about what you've just sent me. Please wait by your PC for my response.

11: Hi! I'm busy negotiating the salary for my new job. Don't bother to leave me any messages.

12: I've run away to join a different circus.

AND, FINALLY, ABSOLUTELY THE BEST:

13: I will be out of the office for the next 2 weeks for medical reasons. When I return, please refer to me as 'Loretta' instead of 'Steve'.

Veges and voting

2004-10-09T15:28:00.000+10:00

I decided to dig a vegetable garden (mostly because fresh veges shit all over anything you get at the store). But after being in the sun (for what seems like) about 50 hours. I disgruntledly looked at my pathetic attempt of a garden, it was only about a metre squared that I had actually managed to dig. It was kinda hot and I couldn’t breathe properly after mowing the lawn (I think I have some crazy allergy to grass – I couldn’t breathe for an hour or so – well ok I could breathe (otherwise I would have died) but I had a bit of difficulty) I went to go to the chemist, (Saturday afternoon all closed – what was I thinking??) to get something but after awhile it got better, just as well I suppose.

I had to vote today, well everyone in Oz had to vote – it’s compulsory here. But I would have thought that there would have been polling booths all over the place like a plague – boy was I wrong… I did a cruise around looking for one – they’re easy to spot, they are the schools, halls, churches with millions (ok a slight exaggeration) of cars parked out front and crazy stalker like people holding handfuls of “vote for my party” brochures (these people are best to be avoided at all costs – if you can manage it) if you accept from one you will be laden down with a small tree by the time you get inside to actually vote – and then horror of horrors you just throw all that paper away. Ummm I even noticed the “Green Party” had some, tut, tut.

But as I was saying I drove around for quite awhile looking (I now know the locations of the local schools) and finally gave up and went to the other side of town where I knew there would be one (I only knew this because that where it was for the last small local election). But in a town (city, whatever) of over 50,000 you would think there would have been more than one. But if there was I couldn’t find it. But needless to say I did vote and now that is over with for the next 4 years. Good luck JH.

Things that are difficult to say when you're drunk...

2004-10-07T19:34:00.000+10:00

Stolen from an email - what can I say - I have been pretty busy with Uni and I need to post.

I have carefully selected you all to put this to the test.......

Things that are difficult to say when you're drunk...

a) Innovative

b) Preliminary

c) Proliferation

d) Cinnamon

Things that are VERY difficult to say when you're drunk...

a) Specificity

b) British Constitution

c) Passive-aggressive disorder

d) Transubstantiate

Things that are ABSOLUTELY IMPOSSIBLE to say when you're drunk...

a) Thanks, but I don't want to sleep with you.

b) Nope, no more booze for me.

c) Sorry, but you're not really my type.

d) No kebab for me, thank you.

e) Good evening officer, isn't it lovely out tonight?

f) I'm not interested in fighting you.

g) Oh, I just couldn't - no one wants to hear me sing.

h) Thank you, but I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no co-ordination. I'd hate to look a fool.

i) Where is the nearest toilet? I refuse to vomit in the street.

j) I must be going home now as I have work in the morning.

ASDL – Broadband

2004-10-03T03:38:00.000+10:00

The day before yesterday – I finally upgraded from dialup to broadband, something that I have been putting off for years (well at least one). My old place was not within 5kms of the exchange so I couldn’t have it, but the new place is – so I though whoopee, finally I can get it.

I was so excited and I called my internet provider signed up for whatever I need, got asked the longest (and most obscure set of questions you have ever heard) and finally I was all good to go. So a few days (maybe a week) later I got a confirmation email. I borderline deleted it as junk mail/spam as the email address it came from have no official mail title on it at all – it came from a skip_wizz@shouldntreallyputuphisrealemail.com, which should have been an obvious warning sign of things to come.

But as I always tend to think everything will be ok (an Australian trait I believe – ever heard someone from OZ say “She’ll be right?” it’s said pretty often, and mostly everything is). But when I actually read the email (a week later or so) it told me a few things I was not aware of and didn’t really want to happen, for example my email address would change (yes the one I have had since the birth of the internet – or my usage anyhow – in 1996) and that all my user details would change. Also that I would be getting a self install kit to connect up by myself (now this gave me creepy visions of my tower being taken apart (by me) and laid across the floor as I muddled through the beginners guide to loading a network card and being in tears from frustration).

But this ‘self install' part was actually a lot easier than I anticipated, well initially at least, until I got a dreaded error message and the "cannot detect network connection". Complete failure! I spent the next half hour scouring all the paraphernalia that I received with the so called kit (which was actually an external modem and a cd of instructions and a brochure or two) looking for anything that said ‘troubleshooting', what to do if you have a problem, anything at all, but to no avail. I finally noticed a tech support number on the bottom of one of the pages and dialled that puppy to try my luck in call centre heaven, I then noticed a super small section (as in font – the fine print probably) which advised you if all else failed initially to turn both the PC and the modem off and turn them both back on – now this action had very positive results for me and as my call got answered the modem hooked up and I was good to go. Well for a short span of time anyhow.

Then when I spoke to the (non English speaking – apologies to all – but I am sure you have encountered this, if they don’t speak the language and you cant understand them and they don’t understand you – where is that going to lead? Nowhere is what I’m thinking, but anyway I gave him a chance) tech on the end of the line. Now he didn’t seem to have any idea why this wasn’t working or what might have been wrong, his suggestion was to advise me to turn off both the pc and the modem because this “sometimes just fixes the problem”, oh joy, thanks sooo much for all the excellent customer service and help you have provided me with.

Anyway eventually he transferred me through to someone else (upon my request – granted it was to a different section) and finally I got someone who knew their stuff. Fixed the problems for me and got all the email address and user names sorted for me, turns out I can keep the old one and she fixed it up for me.

So now I am happy all done and I am still the broadbanding queen – I download a few things to prove yes it is actually faster than dialup (well you know just to be sure, I cant know unless I prove it can I?).

So then I shut down my pc and go to bed once I tire of my internet download fiasco. Next day I log back on (just cause I wanted to) but to no avail, the internet is nowhere to be found, the PC starts up and I have a network error everywhere I look. Now I am not really internet savvy, I am aware of the concept and I knew this was wrong. I do the same thing as the day before but no luck, so once again I fall to the wily charms of technical support. And wouldn’t you know it, it was the exact same guy as the day before (oh my God!!! How lucky can one girl be?). Another half an hour of him not really knowing what to do and me eventually finding what I needed to myself and countless restarts later and my PC once again hooks up to the internet of its own devises. I hang up as quickly as I can after it does this and decide that I will never again turn off my PC and the internet will be hooked up forever and I will never have another drama. Oh yes, I am still wrong.

The next morning the PC has once again disconnected and upon countless restarts, setting changes and disabled programs it will still not hook up. Exasperated I once again go to call tech support only to shutdown one finally time and restart to notice as I am waiting in the queue it has hooked up (nasty bugger knew what I was doing I think). So anyhow my broadband experience has been less than pleasant, I am on the boarder of returning all the stuff and requesting I go back to dialup. I am not sure that it is worth all the angst that this is causing me, in my favour I do have a computer savvy friend who is willing to help me sort it out – apparently I have been advised that my settings are not configured properly (I’m not sure that sentence was even in English) so I will talk to him and see if he can help me fix the problem (tech support are less than helpful at my ISP).

As much as I want to, I don’t really think I have time to piss with my computer for over an hour each time I need a little internet connection. So I will see…

A little note - while working

2004-09-30T09:11:00.000+10:00

Today I am putting up a post from work. A forbidden practice if you ask my opinion. But my boss is on holidays, and while I do have follow up work to do (and the odd submission (deal, loan – whatever you want to call it). My main job for the week he is away is to verify the data of our customers that has transferred into a new system that we have just implemented (YAWN!!).

But that being said, that is what I have been doing but it takes a lot longer than I originally thought it would. But I am battling on, I just now have to make sure I have it completed by Tuesday (Monday is a public holiday – Labour Day – hooray).

My mother has also threatened to come and visit over the long weekend – she is a school teacher and she is on holidays (again). She informed me the other day that she has to work 201 days a year, and I have often heard her spout how she can’t wait until the next holidays (this is usually within a few weeks of returning to teaching maybe a week or so after she has gone back after a holiday break).

Anyhow as I am at work, I must kick on. And as I am now starting to feel guilty this will only be quick.

Next please

2004-09-25T13:37:00.000+10:00

Has anyone ever clicked on the next blog button? You know, up there on the right (ok picture me pointing to the top right hand side of the page where the ‘next blog’ button is). Well I haven’t, until last night that is. I thought I might scope the sitch and see if it was worth my while.

Was it? you ask, um, no not particularly... Nine out of ten blogs I came across were not actually in English (my preferred language – and to be honest the only one I know). A few of these in some crazy symbol language. The very few actual English ones (or those written in the English language, one was some form of protest site, the other a I love God site – now don’t get me wrong both of these I am sure are noble causes but just not really my cup of tea (if you get my meaning). So while the concept of the next blog, I do believe, is good. My personal experience has tended to be crap.

Needless to say, I will stay locked away in this known little cyber community, visiting around and saying hi for a little while longer (probably much longer actually) until the scars have healed from this journey into the unknown.

But please do feel free to try it, after all gambling is fun (until you loose all your money and make the mistake of telling the taxi driver you lost all you cash and he kicks you to the curb and you have to walk the last 10 miles home in the middle of the night – ok this didn’t really happen, but would have if I had not found the hidden emergency $20 – taxi drivers in Vegas (yes Los Vegas kids the most awesome place on the planet) have no sense of humour.

Four days in a row now Pup, oh my god, this is becoming a habit (have I lulled you into a false sense of security yet? No? I will, oh I will. Oh almost forgot, Happy Birthday to you….).

A few funnies

2004-09-24T19:57:00.000+10:00

Ok I am posting something funny today, I don't want to write at the moment and I came across this - it's a very old email. Enjoy.

40 Things you would love to say out loud at work

1. I can see your point, but I still think you're full of shit.

2. I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronounce.

3. How about never? Is never good for you?

4. I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public.

5. I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to see it my way.

6. I'll try being nicer if you'll try being smarter.

7. I'm out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message.

8. I don't work here. I'm a consultant.

9. It sounds like English, but I can't understand a damn word you're saying.

10. Ahhh...I see the screw-up fairy has visited us again...

11. I like you. You remind me of myself when I was young and stupid.

12. You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.

13. I have plenty of talent and vision; I just don't give a damn.

14. I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.

15. I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you.

16. Thank you. We're all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of view.

17. The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist.

18. Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental.

19. What am I? Flypaper for freaks!?

20. I'm not being rude. You're just insignificant.

21. It's a thankless job, but I've got a lot of Karma to burn off.

22. Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial.

23. And your crybaby whiny-assed opinion would be...?

24. Do I look like a people person?

25. This isn't an office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.

26. I started out with nothing & still have most of it left.

27. Sarcasm is just one more service we offer.

28. If I throw a stick, will you leave?

29. Errors have been made. Others will be blamed.

30. Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.

31. I'm trying to imagine you with a personality.

32. A cubicle is just a padded cell without a door.

33. Can I trade this job for what's behind door #1?

34. Too many freaks, not enough circuses.

35. Nice perfume. Must you marinate in it?

36. Chaos, panic, & disorder-my work here is done.

37. How do I set a laser printer to stun?

38. I thought I wanted a career; turns out I just wanted a salary.

39. Who lit the fuse on your tampon?

40. Oh I get it... like humor... but different.

I just reread it and it's not as funny as I thought, but still I have posted it so it will stay. But here is one of my favourite jokes.

A guy out on the golf course takes a high speed ball right in the crotch. Writhing in agony, he falls to the ground. When he finally gets himself to the doctor, he says," How bad is it doc? I'm going on my honeymoon next week and my fiancée is still a virgin in every way."

The doc said, "I'll have to put your penis in a splint to let it heal and keep it straight. It should be okay next week." So he took four tongue depressors and formed a neat little four-sided bandage, and wired it all together; an impressive work of art.

The guy mentions none of this to his girl, marries, and on his honeymoon night in the motel room, she rips open her blouse to reveal a gorgeous set of breasts. This was the first time he had seen them. She says, "You'll be the first, no one has ever touched these breasts."

He whips down his pants and says, "Look at this - it's still in the CRATE!"

And just one more for fun...

Email to wrong wife.

This is voted as the best e-mail joke in Australia in 2001.

After being nearly snowbound for two weeks last winter, a Seattle man departed for his vacation in Miami Beach, where he was to meet his wife the next day at the conclusion of her business trip to Minneapolis. They were looking forward to pleasant weather and a nice time together.

Unfortunately, there was some sort of mix up at the boarding gate, and the man was told he would have to wait for a later flight. He tried to appeal to a supervisor but was told the airline was not responsible for the problem and it would do no good to complain.

Upon arrival at the hotel the next day, he discovered that Miami Beach was having a heat wave, and its weather was almost as uncomfortably hot as Seattle's was cold. The desk clerk gave him a message that his wife would arrive as planned. He could hardly wait to get to the pool area to cool off, and quickly sent his wife an e-mail, but due to his haste, he made an error in the e-mail address. His message therefore arrived at the home of an elderly preacher's wife whose even older husband had died only the day before.

When the grieving widow opened her e-mail, she took one look at the monitor, let out an anguished scream, and fell to the floor dead. Her family rushed to her room where they saw this message on the screen:

Dearest wife,
Departed yesterday as you know. Just now got checked in. Some confusion at the gate. Appeal was denied.
Received confirmation of your arrival tomorrow.
Your loving husband.
P.S. Things are not as we thought. You're going to be surprised at how hot it is down here.......

My dog, aren’t you tired?

2004-09-23T19:58:00.000+10:00

Well today I am going to tell a dogly tale, it’ll be short unless I can bulk it up about Max and our new neighbour dog (well I would say we are his new neighbours) but I digress, now the dog (met the owner, forgot to ask the dogs name) next door and Max the first day of meeting ran the length of the fence all day (up and down – the fence isn’t the great wall of China after all) – now this is not a sweeping ‘all day’ this is a literal all day, my god I got tired just watching them and the hideous next door dog is a barker – he is an Alsation (German Shepherd for those of you who don’t know what an Alsation is) so he has a super loud, deep, hurt your ears, bark and I was getting pissed after a few hours of listening to it without relief.

Every time I walked outside I got barked at and Max had done more exercise in that one day than I think he has in his entire life. This hideousness barks at every fathomable noise you could imagine, I think I heard an earthworm digging its way through to soil, or I would have if the neighbour’s dog wasn’t barking at the noise it was making as it dug. But I am glad to say now it is day 7 he doesn’t bark at me anymore but boy, it has only just stopped and he still barks when he hears me drive in. Just as well he has stopped because I didn’t want to have to do anything against my nature to him, but oh boy a constant barker is not a good thing.

Another dogly thing (which is quite horrible, yet amuses me so) is the Maxis and his inane inability to comfortably ascend (or descend) a flight of stairs. Now to give him a little grace these are outside stairs made from a piece of wood (like slats) and not fully enclosed, so I suppose at his height he can see himself plummeting the whole meter or so to his death and as he has never had any stair experience must be quite a trial for him. The reason I have observed this is the first couple of days I could not get him to come up the stairs, this is where his food bowl and water is so he did endeavour to climb the 4 steps to be able to have his food and water but when I actually saw him do it I laughed at loud (yes the horrible nasty streak I warned you about). He climbed said steps with a painful slowness and he was physically shaking (and by the way even though his speed has considerably improved, the shaking remains, mostly for the down journey he is ok in the up now).

It actually never occurred to me that he would have a problem after all who can’t walk a flight of steps? But as I mentioned I don’t think this it is so much the actual steps but the gaps between that scare the bejesus out of him. Not a lot I can do for him unfortunately, but in time he will become a champ at the stairs I am sure. To get me back for laughing he peed on the hose that I was filling the pool with so I had to wash the pee off the hose, naughty, naughty boy!!

Oh but one saving grace, someone today left the gate open (to the back yard) and when I came home Max came rushing up to say hi. All I can say is I am glad he is whipped and not an adventuresome dog, or I would have lost him and perhaps had to get him back from the pound (a costly exercise from past experience with my previous dog) or worse. But all is well he is back in the back yard after me telling him he was naughty and he should not run off even if the gate is open, I think we now have an understanding.

A new beginning (well on the home front anyhow).

2004-09-22T19:40:00.000+10:00

So the new house is nice but I am still in the hideous “unpacking” stage of moving, which almost takes away the fun (if you can forget the actual move) of moving.

It is however painted baby blue inside – something the owners are doing their best to rectify, this is more than fine by me. So what else to tell you? Well the house is bigger, the pool is bigger (and yes still salt) and the yard is bigger (oh and the rent is cheaper) I think the area is not quite as good, but is still pretty good and the place is quite a bit older but still very nice. I don’t have any complaints and it is even closer to town, walking distance (if you consider around half an hour to be walking distance, yeah, well maybe not – ha ha ha).

Well I have had to claim all my expenses on my own insurance, I approached the council, who while accepted responsibility for the blocked pipe would not accept liability for any damage as the man I spoke to advised me that the plumbing in the house was illegal and therefore it was the owners responsibility to pay for my expenses. I had already tried this tact and got a big fat nowhere so I called a lawyer for a little advice. I did a bit of sucking up and I had spoken to this firm through work many times and I got someone to help me over the phone. Generally to cut a long convo short, he advised me to try my own insurance, he said even though I was in the right the amount of angst this would cause (suing the landlord) it really wasn’t worth the hassle, he also said that the case would probably get drawn out quite a bit and I would also run the risk of not getting what I was actually asking for. Even though in reading this sounds kinda negative he was very helpful and so I did as he suggested.

I called my insurance company who will actually cover everything, my removal, my temporary accommodation (wish I had the policy to read and knew this before I moved as they will pay for this up to 12 months) and also cover any of the damaged goods (which before I rang was all I thought I would be covered for). So I love my insurance company and they can still rip me off – oh umm yep sorry - take their premiums from me annually for some time to come, I would suggest.

So all in all I haven’t come out too badly, granted I didn’t want any of this to happen but since the owners of the old place were looking at selling the place anyhow, I had an inkling that I would have been asked to move when my lease expired in November anyhow, so maybe all this crap (oh yes I see the pun, as always) was not in vain.

Oh, shit….

2004-09-19T01:10:00.000+10:00

I have been gone too long, but I don’t think the journey is done quite yet. I will give you an update as I fear I may have lost everyone while I was away.

Starting Tuesday (as this is when it happened) I was off work sick (nothing serious or of any great importance) but all I can say is I am glad (in a way) that I was. Why I hear you ask, are you ready for the tale? Let me begin.

Once again on Tuesday, I was home sick asleep in my bed. I woke up to an unusual – what the hell is that smell? So I got up and the most disgusting thing you had ever seen was escaping the ensuite (the bathroom attached to the bedroom). Now for a bit of clarity, in Oz we have drain (overflow I believe they are called) in the middle of every room (with the exception of the toilet and the kitchen) that has any kind of water facet.

Now on this particular day, I did hear a strange gurgling sound and I turned and went back to sleep (a mistake I soon found out). Now to tell what happened. Raw sewage (black water, not grey) had come up through all the drains in my house, in effect flooding it. It was in the ensuite and had come out onto the carpet in the master bedroom, it had come up through the laundry, which was next to the kitchen and had come out the doorway into the kitchen and finally it had come up through the bathroom and all down the hall into all 3 bedroom doorways and all around the edges of the dining room. Yummy!!

Now for a quick visual it looked like grey water with brown (umm yes imagine this to be whatever you wish) I would say chunks but they were small and broken up, more like a sludge really, floating on the top of the water. And oh my god, the stench.

So this happened about 4pm. It took me a nanosecond to get on the phone to the real estate, I got the stupid dozy chick who pissed me around about the pool (great!!) but when I explained the situation (perhaps a little too firmly) she said she would get a plumber to come around straight away (a little too late perhaps) and call me back to let me know who, blah, blah. So I let her go, fingers crossed it wont take 3 months to get him out (ummm). But within maybe 10 minutes I had a call back – but this time by the property manager, who said that the plumber was on his way (and should be there very soon) and she was also coming to have a look (with a camera (YAY!!! Poopy shots, incidentally I do not have any copies and did not take any for you - sorry)).

So anyhow the plumber arrives, does the much to be heard over the next few days “Oh, shit” (giggle), yes the puns on this – oh the hilarity (not). Well anyhow he went down in the back yard and tried to plunge the drain, but to no avail. He then called the council and said that they should look down the manhole in their pipes because this should not have happened (Really? And here I’m thinking this is a regular occurrence throughout the homes in town).

So the council comes out – climbs down stinky manhole and I never see them again (mostly because at 8pm I went to a motel – not that they disappeared into the twilight zone) and they had yet to re-emerge. The property manager also came, gagged while taking photos and then stood outside for the further hour or so she was around. She also arranged a cleaner (by this time it was 7ish – and almost everyone had packed up and gone for the day).

The cleaner came armed with some seriously thick industrial strength rubber gloves, a face mask (not of the Michael Jackson kind but more of the toxic fumes/gas mask kind) and a Stanley knife and oh my god he went to town on the carpet cutting it to shreds (under the guise of lifting it up to see how far the sewage had gotten).

I was told by him that as this is raw sewage the house is now a health hazard and I cannot live there, henceforth (ok he didn’t use that word but I like it and he used many more words to say the same thing), pretty much a get your clothes and get out scenario. I was asked if I had anywhere to go (sob, sob, I didn’t) so he suggested a few motels and I called and checked in. I questioned about paying for this (I do not want to be footing the very unnecessary bill for all of this). And was assured it would be covered by insurance, who’s? Fingers crossed someone else’s (oh I have insurance but none of this is my doing). Yes well, we’ll see. So off I went.

To make a very long story short. I spent the next two nights in a motel on day two I was told the house will take over a month to fix/clean, whatever. And it would be best if I moved to a new place, permanently – WTF!?!? So to condense even further by day two I had found a new place and day three I moved. The fuckers wont pay for my removal and looks as though I have to go back to the council and get them to pay, as they are the ones at fault(oh I never did say what happened). A tree root had grown through the council pipe blocking it and causing the back flow – yes it was also a council tree (this makes a difference apparently - if someone else's tree, too bad for me).

So I have to write a full account and send it off, itemise the damage, blah, blah, oh and of course enclose a copy of the rank photos.

So this is what I have been doing since Tuesday. I hope if anyone still reads this you are all well and as I am still in the process of unpacking (but yes as my mother mentioned yesterday I have unpacked my PC – I have crazy priorities, my TV isn’t plugged in (I’m too lazy) and the PC was crying out to me every time I walked past). I will try to be more regular at blogging, but please forgive me as this is a most unusual circumstance. Evicted by shit, who’da thunk it?

Finally (the continuing saga of the pool).

2004-09-09T19:10:00.000+10:00

So I finally got the pool sorted today (ok well technically it was yesterday). I called the real estate, by now I should have them put in my speed dial, looking at past circumstances.

The Green Pool (taken a few weeks ago and in the day).

But finally, oh yes finally. So what happened? I spoke to the Pool people, who said they were still waiting for the real estate, (who when I called) said they had spoken to the owner, who said he would contact the pool people and sort it out (but this has been the story for months). OMG!!! So I (not so politely – I have had enough of this fucking me around crap)suggested that perhaps as the real estate, it is their responsibility to ensure that my premises is maintained and I am paying a rather decent rent, they could perhaps take it upon themselves to sort this RIGHT NOW. Well in no way did I expect this tact to work, but she, Samantha (screw her this is her real name and if I had her surname I may just be inclined to post that too) told me (oh yes, once again) that she would call the owner and call me back.

Anyhow I went off to lunch and when I returned I gave the pool place another call (yes I do believe in miracles…). And you wouldn’t believe it (oh and quickly, every employee knows me by name and if I call I do not have to explain the situation – they all know, this concerns me but only a little) - the nice lady who knows all about it tells me that yes they finally got the go ahead from the owner and they will be around tomorrow (this is today). And when I got home today the pool looks like a foamy wonderland (smells like a rank rock pool on the beach still though – laced with chlorine) and the filter is running and the pool doesn’t quite look to bad (ok well it still does but I can see the underlying potential).

I went in to the pool area to have a quick squiz, and let Max in too, he runs around a bit has a look and then comes and sits next to me for a pat. I decide to take a photo and write this story and post it up so I go inside grab the camera and go back out. I go back into the pool area and hold the gate open for Max (this was a mistake) and he bounds back into the area (I put him out – well more accurately he followed me out when I walked out – the first time, if you’re wondering why I let him in twice). But anyhow, I walked as far back as I could and it was kinda dark through the viewfinder so I snapped off a couple of shots, they lighten in the view when they are taken but it was night so they weren’t that bright. I see Max doing the lean over the edge and as he has never gone in the pool before (and has been in there a bit – the area that is) I am not really concerned.

The Pool - after the swim - the blury thing in the foreground is Max

But then I go to take another snap and what do I hear? SPLASH!!! OMG!!! I look back and little Max is now in a sea of bubbles and green – thank god he can swim – I got him as a pup and he never has before but he was doing a pretty good job if you ask me. I am sorry to say I actually let out a laugh, I have a horrible streak (I warn you never fall down or hurt yourself in front of me – I will laugh). He swam across to me – and as you can see by the photos there is a bit of a ledge and he can’t get out (without help). I am still laughing a little when I walk over to the stairs and call him over to me – I can’t lift him out unless he is closer to the top and he can climb on the stairs and as much as I love him – I AM NOT getting in the pool to save him. (Ok well maybe if he was in dire straights – but he wasn’t at this moment).

He swims to the stairs and I grab his collar and help him out, he spends the next five minutes shaking right next to me (as much as I tell him to bugger off and do it elsewhere it is dark and cold out and I don’t need to be all wet thank you very much). So anyhow I leave the pool area (again) after our little adventure (oh yes Max does join me). I tell him how silly he is and get a towel for him (I didn’t just pass it to him I helped him with it).

Crazy, crazy dog – but he did bring a smile to me after a crappy day at work.

Psyco Puppy (aka Max)the swimmer

Water level

2004-09-04T22:22:00.000+10:00

Ok today I was talking to a friend about going to the toilet (I don’t know why – it just kinda slipped into the convo). The etiquette involved the type of paper we used (didn’t actually get into wiping styles – thank god – some thing should probably remain a mystery, you know).

But it reminded me of a funny story and I shared it, and I will do the same with you. It is based on the differences of the toilets between the United States and Australia. Let me explain, in Australia the toilet has water that covers only the very bottom of the bowl, maybe 10 cms depth tops (and yes we have a dual flush on our toilets – well some of them, the half flush (for number ones) and normal flush (for number twos)).

Now from my few trips to the states I have come to realise that the toilets there are full of water, almost to the top. A daunting proposal for someone who is from the land of Oz. I looked in the bowl and tried to work out that if I sat down, would the water actually touch my ass. Of course this is ridiculous but the water does look pretty close to the top, especially with what I (and every other Australian) is used to.

So anyhow here is where the story begins. I remember being in the States with my family (yes the whole fam all 6 of us, mum, my step dad, brother, brother, sister and I). And my little sis, who was about 6 or 7 at the time taking a dump, dropping off a package, choking a grogan, whatever. Now because of her age and the fact that we were in a motel room, I am 99.9% sure that the bathroom door was open. As a matter of fact this is a horrible trait of all the women in my family (with the exception of me that is – ok I do leave the door open but only in my own home).

So anyway, 7’s in there for a bit and stinking up the room (I think at this stage someone may have closed the door and put on the exhaust fan in the bathroom – and said something derogatory (this goes without saying in my family)) and then 7 shrieks out and calls everyone in for a look. And what do we do? Well we all go in to look, of course. And what do we see? The longest turd you have ever seen, I would have been at least a meter or so long and due to the high water level there was no breakage, it was truly something to behold, and from someone so little (I kept glancing at 7 to make sure she wasn’t going to pass out from the lack of fluids or whatever). I was on the verge of calling out to mum to bring in a camera to capture this truly Kodak moment, but I did resist. I called the parents in anyhow to have a look. 7 was congratulated on her form and the fine specimen was flushed away, the flushing tearing it to pieces in the process, oh well.

Now this was only such an anomaly for us (being from Oz), as with the low level of water here and with the effect of gravity from the fall to the water (and the subsequent splashing)we never have anything like this, the breakage is relatively rapid and you end up with multiple parties in the bowl. And yes as there is no water filling the bowl, the chances of smears (or skids as they are referred) is actually quite high unless you are properly centred. But after 33 years I am well practiced and don’t have any issues to date. So anyway, this is my tale for the day; sorry about the level of where it sits (kind of in the gutter I would think) but oh well I hope it brought a smile.

Happy birthday Dast

2004-09-02T18:52:00.000+10:00

Well, here is the first community blog (I am guessing)- have a wonderful birthday Dast, hope you get lots of cool presents. (And this saves me writing a post).

A wonderful blogger, The Dastard, is having a birthday today. According to his profile, there will be 104 candles on his cake. Wow...someone call the fire dept. and have them on standby, ok?

What can we say about the Dastard?
This evasive creature, Limulus Polyphemus & Bean Town boy, will not allow his visage to be published on-line. He is quick, shifty, and likes to tease. I guess that's why he's the Dastard. Some speculate that he is just shy. The ladies are convinced, however, that the real reason is that he is so damned handsome. That has to be it...He won't show us his picture because he knows that all of the ladies in his cyber-harem would fall desperately in love with him (well, that is, those who aren't already)!

Dastardisms
A big part of the reasons why we love the Dastard so much is the funny and clever things he says in comments - our comments and his own.

"The eyes follow you everywhere because the body they are attached to follows you everywhere. uh….that sounded a lot more creepy than sexy, huh? Sorry."

"The beer in the fridge it's yours...except the PBR, that's mine. And put back what ever you find in my sock/porn drawer."

"Sowing discord where ever I go. That's the Dastard way."
"I am wearing sparkly no-pantz right now!"

"I am nnnnooottttt...a...scifi..d..do..or.......Argh. I can't say it, but I did try so I still win."

"What's all this then? Oh, (large lapelled shirt open to my navel) it's time for The Dastard to kiss and make love to a certain special lady or ladies tonight, maybe followed by a little light sloth-tossing."

"Sorry. some of the below is witless prattle and may be boooorrrringgg!!!
I like saying "witless prattle." Did I just dis myself. Doh!"

"Me fail English, that's unpossible!!!"

"WUTTHEFUCKAREYOUEVENTALKINGABOUT?!!!!" "Better have my money now. I'm The Dastard, bitch!"

"Your mamma has an afro with a chin-strap"

"The picture you have up now is Hi-larry-us! I can't believe someone
actually made a conscious decision to leave the house looking like a
total...wait-a-minute..Um...DAD?!!!!!"

"Thanks for the big 'ol man-hug. Sorry I forgot to put deodorant on."

"Have you read all the way to the bottom and no dirty stuff or political rhetoric? Don't be mad, here's your reward: pener, hoo-ha, boobie, heiney, doin'-it, president."

"huhehheheheee...you like to eat....never mind. BAD DASTARD!!"

"I don't have 2 pussies but I do have a man-gina."

"You don't want to be to harsh with the kitty. It's much better to be even handed. Maybe you should start gently and then add more discipline as needed, depending on the behavior of the kitty. Try this strategy: "nice kitty, nice kitty, nice, nice kitty, nice...bad kitty! bad kitty, bad, bad kitty....nice kitty, very nice kitty."

"I am your Bare and Unbalanced news source."

"I would never burst your bubbles, only gently caress and massage them."

"I like a girl who can guffaw at wrong things."

"Or maybe I'll just mount and then stuff you. Oh, you heard right"

"Hullo Random Gentle Sleepy Peach. Wakey-wakey. Poke-poke."

"The REdasTard had struck again"

"Remember to always probe your meatballs."

"I am wearing paper pantz"

"My mom made me those pants!! Shut up!!!"

"Great, now everybody knows what my ass looks like. Thanks a lot
Fleece. That camera phone is dangerous."

"Actually that is not me. I would never wear a red thong with pink tite-pantz."

"I cloned headless babies."

"I'm the only boob here."

"Did you really stay up until 1am last night like a big loser waiting
for blogger to come back? Huh? How do I know it was back up at 1? Ummmmmm......I, ah....shutup Fleece"

"It's Don Juan Dastardo to you!"

"I am not trying to be a tease, unless your name is Michael or Gooch and have a tub of ass-wax. Damn, am I typing it instead of only thinking it again?"

"why does everyone think they are the boss of me. "Dastard get haloscan. Dastard put up a new post. Dastard stop dating my mom.""

"I did everything exactly like you said...but after I asked this one guy to smell it, well, that's the last I remember until I woke up in a hotel room somewhere in Thailand, wearing nothing but a leopard print banana-hamock."

"Comply!"

Critics Agree...
"Dastard, even though I crush on you, you don't pick on me about it.
Everything is fair game, and I love that. Happy Birthday Shmoopee!" - Lovisa

I think he is great, he shows a side you don't often see in the real world and that's refreshing. - Nord

"Dastard, Cheri, you know that I think you are simply the cat's pajamas. You are sensitive, intelligent, mysterious, obnoxious, freaking hilarious, thoughtful, and oh so sexy - everything I love in a man. Happy Birthday! *104 WHAPS and matching giggle smooches!* - Celti

What I like about El Dastardo.. he's witty, not afraid to make fun of himself, insightful and not afraid to admit (gasp) he has feelings and is sometimes confused and angry about life. He's remarkably upfront about what others may see as "geeky science stuff." I think he has a true passion for it and doesn't give a rats ass what anyone thinks. Did I mention he's a real hoot? And even though we've never seen his face, he truly has a sexy personality. I hope he's willing to meet me when I got to Boston later this Fall. What he said to me today in comments really did cause intense passion to flood my loins, which was no more than "I'll make you come... up here." LOL!!! He has such a way about him that you can't help but think of him sitting at his computer, biting his lip with a wicked, wicked grin on his face as he spars with the bloggers. He's a diamond in the rough. - Inanna

That Dern Dastard! There was this time that I thought Dastard was trying to steal my identity. He signed off as Cooter Pie on Sloth's website... and I felt oh-so violated. After all, I'm the sweetest Cooter there is... and if he was closer to the midwest, I'd eat him right up! Cootersnap likey Cooter Pie... - Ang

The Dastard is a good man deep inside. i used my x-ray vision of doom and i saw the truth. inside the spiky metal armor beats a great big heart with real feelings inside it. -el sid

He's my Distardly boy -- even though he often commits fashion faux pas
that I document on my blog (hello! red crisscrossy pants!). I love
this guy for his quirkiness, insight and fearlessness to question
everything that challenges him. Happy Birthday, Dastard! Fleecely hugs and love.
- Fleece

Top Ten Reasons I love the Dastard:
1. He's funny
2. He's smart
3. He has pretty eyes
4. He always says the right things: "Aimee: you are as sweet as a Krispy Kreme. I will think about you the next time I eat one but I will be thinking something nasty too."
5. Waaay back, before we even knew about the moth flies in the men's bathroom, he told us about his love of crotch-less wetsuits, the funny-name lists he makes, and his missing asparagus-pee enzyme. When I commented, his reply was, "Aimee: Consider yourself Mrs. Dastard", so I do.
6. When I get sick & have pulled muscles, he says, "My favorite Goofhead: Aww..blisters and pulled muskles. You need some tender dastardly luv.
7. When I flirt with guys, he chastises me in the nicest way (and makes me blush), "FLIRTED WITH A GUY?!! Let me at 'im! Seriously, that's good pour vous. But we already knew you were a great flirt."
8. Even though he's in love with Lovisa (aka: Lovie Poppet), see #5 above. (heehee!)
9. He and Sloth are friends, and Sloth is a good, good woman.
10. He had the good sense to be born a Virgo.
Happy Birthday, Dastard. Love you. - Aimee

Dear Dastard, because it is your birthday and ONLY because it is your birthday, I will, for one day only..............................let you be the boss of me. - Sloth

And Now...a little musical dedication to our Dastard:

"Dastard of Blogging"

Click the Title to Hear the Tune - Sung by Michael to the music of "Master of
Puppets" by Metallica.

Who the hell is that
In the Krispy Kreme hat
Elusive just to scoff you
His references you heed
Books that you should read
Vonnegut and Nabakov, too.

I will read your site
’Cause you’re erudite
The pics you volunteer
Are in your scuba gear

Come scrawling faster
The blog of Dastard
His comments blast ya
The blog of Dastard
Dastard

Dastard of blogging he’s funny as hell
Bein’ a wise-ass, but bein’ himself
Blinded by wit you can’t see his face
That or ‘cause his hand’s in the way
Dastard
Dastard
Sometimes he’s "Dangsta" but I’m gonna say
Dastard
Dastard

We love you Dastard. Have a very, very happy birthday!

A change

2004-09-01T22:53:00.000+10:00

So yesterday a few people in my office told me I looked great. Now normally I would be ‘hey, thanks’ but I know the reason for these unfounded compliments and I am not sure they did. For a bit of background. I (until yesterday) had long blond (ok, I just wanted to say it was blond – and naturally so) hair, by long I mean it sat just above my ass, it is straight, not even a hint of curl and that’s about the size of it. It was getting to the point where you couldn’t do too much with it. Mostly leave it out straight (which I hated because it would get in the way). Or put it up in a plait or pony tail.

So what did I do to it yesterday, you ask? I cut it – now usually I just go in for a ‘trim’, now this involves cutting roughly an inch or so from it, no big deal. But yesterday I got it cut to my shoulders, an extreme and daring move I know but after 7 years or so it was probably about time. And if not, well hell, it’ll grow back anyway.

So my complaint of the day. Well a few people very non specifically mentioned how good I looked. In a ‘have you lost weight’ capacity. Well I figured it was a little rude to respond with. ‘No moron I have cut my hair off’ but you know, accept the compliment graciously and move on.

But this got me thinking, if I look so great now – what did they think I looked like before? I mean I don’t think I look like a trog – but as for what others think – well I just don’t know. I wouldn’t have been too bad but almost everyone in the office said it looked good (and yes some actually noticed that I had had my hair cut).

So anyway, I am basking in a sea of paranoia at the moment. It will pass in time I am sure. But I have decided today that I love my new hair, it looks cute, screw all those losers who couldn’t even figure out I had cut it. Maybe in the next 7 years or so I will get it cut again and see what response that will bring.

Dandelions and the visit.

2004-08-29T17:17:00.000+10:00

So, the lawn. Well all in all not a bad job for being done in the dark, but I now notice that it is absolutely covered with Dandelions, a sea of yellow and green. I did miss the occasional long stalk but it now looks mowed and I can now shake my head at some of the neighbours lawns as I go past with a quick, ummmm… that could do with a mow. I still have to do the back lawn, but I’m sure that Max (my dog) loves the feeling of the jungle grasses rubbing against his belly as he prances around the back yard. And as today I did get home by 2pm, I could have actually done it, with the exception that it is bucketing down with rain outside, oh well.

Ok, so I am back from my trip, my fiends A & M are both well and now have 2 kids M & J, now J was 3 the last time I saw them and M just a glint in his dads eye. It’s funny it was like I had never really been away. Still friends and still the same (with the youth part of all our temperaments removed). I had a good time we chatted ‘til late at night did a little reminiscing but all in all nothing too exciting. Oh well, I guess they are an old (alright young) married couple now. I was invited to go to a friend of theirs childs birthday party (for a 5 year old) I declined and came home. We will stay in touch this time though as I have invited them to visit in a few weeks time. It’s funny, this isn’t what I expected, but as for what I did expect, well I’m not sure exactly what that was either. It was almost a disappointment, I expected things to be different I guess but they were exactly the same. This doesn’t really make sense I know but oh well. I did however have a kick ass breakfast of bacon eggs and pancakes….. yum.

Foggy Day (and just one more photo) and some useless info.

2004-08-27T20:55:00.000+10:00

The Dastard mentioned that Sydney was shown on the news (or something) the other day because it was all fogged up. I was actually there (did you see me waiving at the camera? No? Look harder if they show the footage again). Anyway I remember being ripped from my slumber after about 2 hours of it at 6.30am, to open the curtains and be accosted by said fog. It was a thick white sheet and you couldn’t see crap through it. This said it was gone within a few hours and all the photos I have in the previous post were taken that very day.

Oh, I mowed the lawn this afternoon after work, it would be more appropriate to say this evening, because it was on dusk when I started and kinda after and (a bit too) dark when I was finished. The reason for this, well it has been a (very) long time coming and today I was finally guilted into it by every other lawn in the street, neighbourhood, city even. I have been meaning to for a long time but every weekend I have better things to do, you know wash my hair, watch TV, lie in bed and read a book, you know, important stuff. But as I said today I caved. I am going away on the weekend (and possibly the following two after that) and I am pretty sure I don’t have a machete to cut my way to the front door through the lawn. Also I know it’s only a matter of time before the neighbourhood mafia comes out to kick my ass for not doing it. But it is now all done – I will get to see the fruits of my labour tomorrow morning – it looked ok in the dark all the large tufty bits are gone, but I couldn’t see the grass that well by the end. So, as I said tomorrow will tell, but to be honest I don’t have time to redo it anyway, so oh well...

Alright, it’s a bit of a mixed bag tonight, I usually stick with just one thing but here is the final thought of the day for you. Here is a photo I took on Wednesday, around 3pm. A dark night for the States I imagine as we seem to have taken the moon from you on this one occasion. I love this photo. Also taken at the Quay (but you can’t really tell).

The moon on a sunny day.

I am going away for the weekend – have a great one all who read this and I will (I promise Regan) post again when I get home Sunday. I am going to see a friend I haven’t seen for 6 years so I should have something to talk about. She is one of my friends from the teen - early 20’s years and they know most of the drunken secrets of our youth, she might remind me of a few stories that I can share. Have a great weekend, if you can’t be good be good at it (oh and yes it is Friday night tonight Saturday tomorrow for all you, but it is Friday todayers).

Neglect and a Junket (oh and some photos).

2004-08-27T00:21:00.000+10:00

I love to write in my blog and it was never my intention to let it slip, but of late this is exactly what I have allowed to happen. Here is one very feeble excuse for you.

I had a training course in Sydney this last week. I left (with a majority of my office - not the furniture, the people who work there) on Sunday afternoon (by plane) and got back late last night (thank God the airline didn’t loose my bag this time though). This course was a little like every other I suppose (or maybe not). Our facilitator (or trainer if you will) had his first attempt (oh boy, do I use this word loosely) to teach us a new system for my company (by ‘my’ I don’t mean I own it (I wish I did), just that I work for them). So apart from me falling asleep throughout the actual training, it was quite a bit of fun. Corporate Cards beware, that’s all I can say. I drank to my hearts content, woke each morning with (very) minimal sleep and the reddest eyes you had ever seen, to once again sleep through out the training and then drink the night away (ok I wasn’t really that bad – but one of the other guys was!!). Anyway how cool would I be if I said, oh yes, I went out for dinner every night and then went back to the Motel around 10 and left the others to their drinking? Yeah, not really, (although this is closer to what actually happened). We got put up in a very nice, very expensive motel (I love the guise of a business trip) and all our meals and alcohol was provided (well by ‘provided’ I mean we chose where to eat and drink and the corporate cards were whipped out all over the place) and with the exception of buying some new clothes I did not spend a cent on my trip (of my money anyhow).

So this is why I haven’t been around (for the last week or so) I will post up some photos I took at the Quay to prove it (I know I don’t need to) but you can see the Bridge and the Opera House just for fun. (I have been fighting with blogger for the last hour or so trying to do this and one per post is the best I can manage – so I will put them up as multiple posts – I have posted the pics first so they are below this (as if you haven’t already noticed)).

Anyway I am also going away for the weekend to visit an old friend and I have plans for the following weekend and my mum was saying it’s about time I visited her too. Man, I have successfully been a hermit for the last few years and I only now have started to radiate friendship vibes that make everyone want to get back in touch with me and want to do stuff, I don’t know. As they say, when it rains it pours.

The Sydney Opera House (and a little red boat).

2004-08-27T00:13:00.000+10:00

One of the Sydney ferry's (as you can see Sydney is at the forefront of technology with these beasts - not).

2004-08-27T00:11:00.000+10:00

Centrepoint Tower (this isn't at the Quay but was right next to my motel (hence the angle)).

2004-08-27T00:10:00.000+10:00

Well the sign kinda says it all

2004-08-27T00:00:00.000+10:00

The Sydney Harbour Bridge

Left to my own devises

2004-08-18T23:02:00.000+10:00

So today my boss, and all the managers in the office (for that matter) went off to an agricultural fair. I had no interest in going (farm equipment ... pl-ease!!). But the word junket had been thrown around. I did however get the speech late yesterday afternoon that the only reason I wasn’t asked to come along is because they were conscious of the staff numbers going – whatever (did I mention farm equipment – YAWN).

So anyway, today I went into work, no managers or any kind of ‘boss’ if you will anywhere – I have the office to myself and it is bliss. I (foolishly) think that I am going to finally be able to do all the work that has been building up in my tray for weeks and then be able to come in to work with a clear conscious the following day (that would be tomorrow). But in actuality my day went a bit more like this.

I arrived at around 9am (no sense in rushing, who’s there to rag me for being late? No one - I usually start around 8.30am). I slowly get a cup of tea and sit at my desk, get out the laptop (they make us lock them away). And plug it in (it’s not that difficult it has a docking port (yes, I know, I know, just like the star ship Enterprise)). But I do (only very occasionally) have trouble matching up those little holes on the bottom of the PC so it’s plugged in right – but that’s a whole other story).

So by this time, it’s almost lunch time, well ok it was really only around 9.05, but I logged on, read all my emails (emailed back to people) did a quick (ok extended) blog run, then looked at the clock. So by now it was actually closer to 11am Umm… yeah… shit I should do some work then I guess. Who ever ticked the ‘can work without supervision’ box on my application for this job was sorely mistaken. Well that’s not entirely true, but you give me free reign on the internet and access to email and watch my productivity plummet (to below ground).

By then I had a huge guilt rush and hurriedly completed a few things, went through all my pending maters and then, oh no…lunch time. So off I go for, oh I don’t know an hour (or so) after all no one to keep track of me right? So I’m back at work still a little guilted by some stuff that has been in my tray since, when? OMG, the 12 July, ummm, yeah well I got rid of that pretty quick (how’d it get in there anyhow – nothing stays there for that long! Or so I thought). So anyhow I get to around 3pm and my brain has stopped working again. I am emailing to 3 separate friends so have to constantly reply to the 3 streams, you know you send an email, you receive and email from someone else, then you answer, then get another (it’s a vicious cycle) so I spent about half an hour doing this until guilt gave me another slight shake and I stopped responding to the emails.

Then another quick check in the blogging world to see if anyone had updated in the last hour or so. Guilt again… and so for the rest of the afternoon, I shuffled papers and procrastinated the day away.

The moral of this story, if you leave me unattended in the office for the day, take away all my Internet/email privileges and give me a shitload of work to do. It is apparent to me after todays venture that I am a slacker who needs no encouragement to behave like this. I should have gone on the junket I would have gotten more work done...

The Chronicles of Ridiculousness

2004-08-16T22:00:00.001+10:00

I have been slacking and for this I apologise. I am not having a crisis I just don’t honestly have much to say (oh, how my friends would laugh at me if I said this to them – I always have something to say…).

But today I want to talk about this. I watched the Chronicles of Riddick (excuse all spelling – I don’t know how this is spelt – the name that is) last night, not at the movies on my PC, a copy that a friend obtained for me from a glorious information tool called the internet (I wont say much more about it for fear of the repercussions – but let’s say I didn’t pay for it (other than to be ridiculed in my request of which film I wanted) and I haven’t sold it either so I should be safe as far as the warnings go, right? Oh well).

Now I love Vin Diesel (or Mark Vincent, as is his actual name, yes I am ashamed to say, I have done a little underhanded internet based I am a crazy stalker search to find out more about him). But he’s not exactly an intellectual is he. Hey, don’t get me wrong, he could be a Rhodes Scholar (as I don’t personally know him), but the parts he chooses to play are all about the brawn. But this said, I am not complaining, I am up for a little bit of brawn as much as (if not more so) than the next girl. But this movie (as with most of his movies – I said most, there is always an exception to the rule) was kinda crap.

I glossed over the fact that it has lots of cool effects in it, but it had a lame predictable story (sorry, to all who enjoyed it – well I’m not that sorry; on a visual level I kinda enjoyed it too). When it finished and I was wondering if I missed something. (A bit like when I watched Eyes Wide Shut – man, I spend 3 plus hours watching that, spending most of the latter part of that film waiting for something to happen, then the end credits roll only to have me asking if they actually stopped the movie when I went to the bathroom, because I must have missed something – must have… this movie (EWS), ranks as my top choice for things that I have wasted my time doing and will never get the precious time back – I was told my teenage brother that I just didn’t get it (as if he’s all knowing) but, damn straight – I didn’t get it). But I digress. Ok short plot synopsis, he (Vin, of course, as he is the topic de jour) is the ‘chosen’ and will in the end kill the evil ruler trying to wipe out all mankind (ok, not just wipe out convert, to their (the evil guys), religiony thing too – see I payed attention – kinda). I would have saved myself a couple of hours if I’d just read a review I guess, but then again I wouldn’t have got the visual pleasure that keeps me coming back to watch his movies. Alas though ladies, from memory, there is no shirt removal, but he does spend a bit of time being all chained up and he flexes those muscles with various ass kickings (administered to others) by him.

So what have I said? Nothing really, as usual, but I think my main point is I am shallow. I will watch these, no plot, crap movies to get a glance at the pretty, I know that I won’t get too much value from them and the most I can come up with for comment at the end is something along the lines of, “Man that Vin Diesel is hot, yeah?” Well at least I didn’t pay to see it like I usually do when I go to see one of his flicks, its an unhealthy obsession, I know, I know… did anyone see ‘A man apart’? No?, well I did (I was alone in the theatre, with the friend who came with me on opening night) – I rest my case.

PS – I watched ‘Hell Boy’, the day before and thought it was a much better flick (judge me as you will…).

Champagne taste on a beer income

2004-08-11T21:10:00.000+10:00

The title is a saying that my grandmother uses, it doesn’t really apply to me much anymore as I have a job with a decent wage (ok, well…kinda) and I can (generally – let’s not get carried away here) afford whatever I want.

I don’t think of myself as a snob. But if you analyse it, perhaps I am. I blame my mother – snobs after all are made not born. This is why…

My sister, a tiny tot at the time, maybe 3ish, before she was at school, rushed in to tell mum some fantastic news. (For background I am 24 years older than her, just in case you think my memory is outstanding, it wasn’t that long ago for me).

“Mummy, I can spell car!” An impressive statement for someone so young.

So to call her bluff, ‘Ok then Sweetpea, spell car for me’.

Wait for it…..

“B M W” 3’s happy, smiling face showing how smart she thinks she is… (Once again for background, at the time mum’s car was a BMW, black, sunroof, the works, very nice… and the little chicken was reading back the letters written across the back of the car – smart kid really).

But, what can I say she’s doomed…… we’re all doomed!

Now this brings me to the point that in my family we’re all brought up this way, had a good life, lots of nice things (mostly – nothing is perfect) and then are cast to the world to fend for ourselves (ok we are usually 17 or 18 before this happens).

Now I have lived in Pov (erty) alley, I have flatted with others where we have eaten a can of potatoes (did you know they came in cans? Neither did we, but we found one in the back of the cupboard) with some cheese melted on them as a meal – isn’t it funny how you always seem to have cheese, maybe because it just lasts for so long.

Now both my brothers are at this stage one is 18 and a student, the other, 20 dropped out, oh sorry, my mistake, “took a year off” his studies to work as a cook for a certain fried chicken chain.

Now 20 constantly complains about how mum always has the nicest of things and that he can’t afford to buy any of this (oh, poor, poor 20 – get a better job! Cooking fried chicken, surprisingly enough, actually doesn’t pay all that well…). But don’t feel too sorry for him. Both of my brothers live together, in a house the parents bought (and yes it was for them) they pay a pittance of rent and whenever mum goes to visit (which is fortnightly) she buys their groceries. Am I bitter? Nooooooo…..I’m not like that at all.

The inspection

2004-08-10T19:39:00.000+10:00

This tale is dedicated to and inspired by Regan, our Evil Science Chick. But it is also for all the whiners who couldn’t wait for another post…

Ok this took place in the house I lived in before the current one, the real estate I had was anal, beyond all call of duty if you ask me. I got an inspection notice regularly every three months, bleuch! (I note this point, as this is the only real estate to ever do this to me – I was in one place where they inspected it once in 3 years, and this is when the owner wanted to have a look).

So I get the letter from the real estate, I stick it up on the fridge, as always – that’s where all the stuff to do (mostly bills) and things to know go. So we get down to the day before, now in this letter there is a disclosure, this appointment is for blah, blah… as we have a lot of inspections that we need to do these times cannot be changed…blah, blah…you can be present if you want blah, blah…. Now this pisses me (and to be honest is illegal, the real estate cannot refuse to change when they do an inspection as they are required by law to have your permission). In the past I always insisted being there for the inspection but I had to take time off and I had better things to do so after a while I thought screw them they can do what they want.

Now my house has been know to be untidy (never dirty, just untidy) on the odd occasion, oh yes it is true… but this one inspection (and yes even with 2 weeks notice, or more I’m not too sure). I though fuck that shit, they are here to look at the house, make sure I haven’t knocked any holes in the walls, etc. so I ain’t tidying shit for them. (please excuse my (lack thereof) eloquence).

So I leave the dishes (only the night before, not the last months worth) on the sink (in a nice pile, lets not get too carried away) and the rest of the house is clean and a little untidy, but in order, you know piled up here and there, no obvious mess anyhow. So off to work I go.

Now the inspection is for between 9am and 5 pm (oh yes, that was there vague, be there or you might miss us timetable), but I have already stated I was not going to be hanging around. So anyway later that afternoon I get a call. Yes it is from the real estate. I have a (mostly) positive attitude about this as I know the place was ok. But here is the hit. Some girl, oh lets call her Hesitant, gets on the phone.

Hesi “I completed your house inspection today”.

Me “Oh yes is everything ok?”

Hesi “Umm, well no actually, there is a problem…”

Me “Oh really? What’s wrong?”

Hesi “Ummmmm”

Me “Yes”

Hesi “Umm…. the house was a little untidy”

Me “Untidy? Could you be a little more specific?”

Hesi “Ummm, it was just untidy”

Me “Right….I don’t know what that means… what was untidy?”

Hesi “Well, it was just untidy; I am going to do another inspection next week…”

Oh my god!!!! I snapped…

Me “Look, you have to be more specific, untidy does not tell me what is wrong. Tell me what is untidy. I can’t fix something if I don’t know what it is!” yeah, I might have raised my voice a little.

Hesi “Well I will come back next week, look the house was a little untidy… umm hold on…”

So I am holding…

Someone else comes onto the phone, lets call her oh I don’t know, Normal.

Norm “Hey Nord, how are you?”

Me “Oh not too bad, Norm, can you tell me what this is about?”

Norm “Umm, well, not really…. oh hang on.” So normal goes away for a sec and comes back…

Norm “Well, Hesi said the place was a bit untidy”

Me “Jesus, what the hell does that mean, I need a few details here”

Norm “Yeah, it doesn’t really say too much does it? Hang on I’ll ask her” Oh to hear a voice (faint as it was), of reason.

So she goes away again, so I am waiting again. And she is back.

Norm “Umm, yeah, she said your dishes weren’t done…”

Me “What?!? You’re kidding me?”

Norm “No that’s what she said”

Me “So your telling me your coming back to my house next week for another inspection to see if I’ve done my dishes?”

Norm “Ahhhh… no I wouldn’t think so”

Me “I thought you were supposed to check if I had smashed a hole in the wall or burnt away half the carpet”

Norm “Yeah, that is what we are checking for, hey look, don’t worry, no one will be coming back next week, sorry about the hassle, I’ll have a talk to her”

Me “Yeah, you do that.”

And I never heard from her again, Hesitant never did another inspection of my place again and I never got another call. Oh and just to spite them, I never did my dishes when I had an inspection. Screw them!

The call

2004-08-08T20:48:00.000+10:00

I don’t have caller ID on my phone or an answering machine, so if the phone rings, I will answer it. I don’t have too much of a problem with telemarketers as I am at work in the day and if they do call I am pretty quick to say I am not interested, but that is not what this story is about.

My nana (grandmother) calls me to have a “chat”, every few weeks, I have called her once in the last six months, I always tell her I will call her, she always tells me that I always say that and before a reasonable amount of time (sometimes the phone is still warm from the last call) she will call again and she always feels the need to tell me that I never call.

So this one time (at band camp – he he, sorry couldn’t help myself), she calls me. Now my nana is 75, my pop (grandfather) passed away some 10 years ago so nana is lonely and misses him. So she calls the family and talks at them for absolutely hours. Yes I did say at. I’m not sure if it is just my nan that does this, but she is the only person I know who does it to me.

She will call and talk non stop for the 3 hour (or longer depending on your luck) duration of the call, as long as I slip the occasional, oh, yes, sure in there she is good to go. It’s come to a point where I don’t really listen to what she says anymore, I used to, I used to for years, but she tends to repeat the same stuff over and over again and she takes a story that she has heard about another family member and twists this story into something unrecognisable from the real thing. An example for you, my grandmother argued with me for half an hour saying that my cousin was going to Uni in Canberra to study music (well audio engineering, actually) now I know this is not true as it is my brother who is doing this, I courteously tell her this and she starts to argue with me, now I know I am right and I give up the fight pretty quickly, what’s the point - she wont stop and thinks she’s right and will argue the point with me until she begins to turn blue.

Anyway now you know a little what she is like, here is a quick tale. Nan called me one night to update me on all the family stories (stuff I already knew, nana tells these stories over and over again – and my mum keeps me updated – my family hassles my mum telling her she will be like nan one day – makes me think that maybe one day I will be too, its not a comforting though). But back to the tale. My nana ring me this night, oh lets say Tuesday, talks to me for the traditional 3 hours, I didn’t get to see the movie I wanted to as I was listening to the call. I finally tell her I have to work the next day and that I have to go, so I say good bye, she spends a further half hour doing the wrap up and I once again remind her I have to go. Finally she does and I go to bed.

So the next night, what happens? I get a phone call, no caller ID but I am pretty sure it’s not nana because I spoke with her yesterday, so I grab the handset and… oh my god, it’s nana, again. Hey nan, is everything OK? She assures me all is well and goes into a complete rerun of last nights conversation, now I have heard all of this stuff many times before but usually I get a grace period where I can once again build up a tolerance to it and be ready for it all over again. But in the day between calls I haven’t had a chance to do this. I start with the yes you told me, yes you have told me that too, this though I find doesn’t usually stop the telling she just gets pissed with you and continues on. But after I have done this 5 or 6 times she snaps and has a go at me. So I say to her, nana you called me yesterday and told me all this. She hesitates just for a moment, something quite unusual for her, and then denies it! I try to convince her otherwise but now I am pissed off too, so eventually I let it go – she continues with the remaining time to once again to balance it out to be a three hour call, I eventually get her off the phone, thank her for ringing (I always do) tell her I will give her a call (I always do that too) she tells me I am full of shit and I never call (shit she may even be right about that – I say I will in my mind but I don’t think I do – I always call for her birthday and Christmas though!) and I go to bed, if the phone rings the next day I’m not going to answer it!(thinking back, I’m pretty sure she didn’t ring).

Left until the last

2004-08-06T00:30:00.000+10:00

I always leave things to the last minute, I don’t plan to as a matter of fact I always plan to get things done with plenty of time to spare, but what can I say it just never works out that way.

My reason behind this story today is that I had to do a report (yes another) for the Uni subject I am currently studying. Now I turned down an invitation to visit an old friend on the weekend (who for some reason called me out of the blue after 6 years). I did initially accept the invite but called back the next day to make it the following weekend. The reason for my change of heart in going to visit her? I had a report due. Now to be fair the report was due today (Thursday) and had to be submitted online by midnight.

There was plenty of time to get this done, more than enough actually but I left it until tonight and I completed it within around 3 hours (showing how much time I would have needed to put aside), posting it at 11.47pm.

Why do I do this? I have no idea – I would have liked to have finished it last weekend, but I would look at my textbooks as I walked by and make a mental note to read the topic and make some notes, by this afternoon the mental notepad was full but not a note to be seen.

I can’t explain it I do this every single time, granted the larger assignments cannot be left until the last minute especially field research. But anything else, no matter the time frame, I always leave to the very last.

I know this is not too exciting a tale, I feel really slack for not posting on my blog but as it is now 12.11am and I have just completed a scientific report (humble as it was) I hope you’ll forgive me. I now, no longer have to worry about the report and will think of a good story to share with you tomorrow.

The walk

2004-08-03T19:21:00.000+10:00

Firstly don’t think for a moment I don’t walk my dog. I do, just not at the moment (except weekends). It is the middle of winter and wild horses couldn’t drag me out of bed before 7.30am for work (and it is also kinda dark still) and when I get home from work around 5.30 – 6pm it is dark once again.

So where is this going? Well a month ago or so I had a day off from work (to sit one of my Uni exams actually – irrelevant but thought I’d slip it in) and the exam finished at 4pm. So here I have a beautiful day, if not a little cold, plenty of light left in it and Gluteus Maximus – Max for short and I decide to take a walk (well alright, I decided but he wanted to come, really, really bad!). I’ve scoped out the neighbourhood, I have ridden my bike around so I have a rough idea of where to go, so we embark on a new route and a new adventure.

Well, I get to the top of the hill in my street (I am also wearing my walkman, makes me a total snob as I don’t hear what anyone says to me and therefore I ignore them – I don’t do it on purpose I just (honestly) can’t hear them). But this time avoidance is impossible, a lady, comes straight up to me mouthing some incoherent words as I am still singing along to the musical styling of whatever cd was in my walkman at the time. I realise that she is talking to me, yes me. I pull out one of the earphones and say:

“Yeah, hi.” I am just a pleasure to meet.

“Oh hello, it’s good to see you taking Max for a walk.”

“Excuse me?!?” I am by now thinking how the hell does she know his name? Slight panic grips me and I also make a mental note NEVER to shout out the window at him again when he barks, saying something along the lines of “Shut up Max!”(or usually something quite a bit worse). Also the implication I don’t walk him, well lady we are not all retired with all day to play you know!

“So, how do you know his name?” I asked, with great curiosity. I am waiting for it.

“Oh, well it’s on the tag on his collar” Oh the revelation, how do you think it got there lady, yep that’s right I, his owner, bought it for him, so I am aware it’s there, still not fully answering the question though. So I wait…

“Oh and as I live across the road from you in the (add description of your choice here) house, I see him though your fence and I go up and pat him and say hello, I take my grandkids over to visit him too and my daughter sometimes says hi and pats him.

Jesus lady, get your own dog. By now I am a little pissed, for a bit of background Max is a Golden Retriever, he is the most docile dog on the planet and he looks like a little Golden Bear, very cute. He barks when people walk past the house (at night) and would smother anyone with affection if they were to crossover into his domain. But she doesn’t know that and I am pissed because she has been trespassing, on a somewhat regular basis to say hello to my dog. Unjustified in my pissedoffedness, maybe but here is why I am pissed at this situation.

Firstly she walks through my front yard past the house to the back fence, reaches through the fence to pat my dog. Now if my dog was to, oh I don’t know, bite that bitch all of a sudden it would become my problem. She, if she chose to could press charges against me or sue me and I would be ordered to put Max down as a dangerous dog (this thought does not please me). My recourse against her, basically nothing, trespass perhaps.

Now I would never, I repeat never go up to a foreign dog, who incidentally is behind a fence in someones back yard, no matter what bred, to pat them, never. I am pissed she would do this to me. I can’t do anything about it as I am at work in the day and I can’t stop her. I didn’t want to be a rude bitch by telling her to stay the fuck off my property although I wanted to, as she does after all live just across the road, and as she is retired can keep her beady little eyes on my house and stop those nasty burglars from stealing my shit (she is after all a constant visitor apparently anyhow).

So there you have it, my stalemate with the neighbour. I do hope one day Max tries to take a piece of her, although it’s very unlikely, as he is now familiar with her as she has visited so often. It still makes me mad though.

Oh and the walk? She talked to me for half and hour before finally letting us go. Max and I walked for another hour and when we got home it was dark. So much for our daylight romp!

It shouldn’t be green, should it?

2004-07-31T18:27:00.000+10:00

Ok the title’s a little misleading, but in the end you see where it’s from. But anyway I’ll begin at the beginning, a good a place as any.

About eight weeks ago, well ok let’s step back even further, to the very beginning.

In December last year I got a transfer with my job to where I live now, now as part of my salary package I received rental assistance, now this is basically where my employer will pay 2/3 of my rent for the next two years, so looking this gift horse directly in the mouth, I though shit let’s use this to my absolute advantage. I looked for one of the nicest (and most expensive, funny how that goes together) places I could find and low and behold I found one…..

A brief description for the masses, house….blah blah blah, and the draw card? A fully fenced, large, solar heated, salt water, in ground pool…….. aahhhhhhhhhhhh.

So what did I do? You betcha, I signed that lease.

So, I have never had a pool anywhere, the parents decided to get one put in long after I had left home, but luckily while my brothers were still living at home and my sister was just a glint in her parents eyes, so my fellow siblings could get maximum benefit from said pool (gotta love the parents). But me, no.

I have no skill and very little interest in obtaining any for the sake of pool maintenance. My step dad told me that it’s pretty easy and started in on a description…..blah, blah, blah. Yeah, yeah, I hear what you’re saying but I think I’ll just get someone to maintain it for me, and then I don’t have to worry. He thinks that might be the way to go too, not of course implying that I am incapable of looking after it but with professionals, you know that it will always be ok….Yeah, THANKS.

So with this in mind and remnants of the “pool man” fantasies playing in the back of my head. I call to arrange for someone to come to maintain it. So I get the yes we’ll come out and take a look, ok the address, yep, ok and now onto business.

“How often do I want it cleaned? I don’t know. How often do you come out?”
…..
“Oh, I have a choice, weekly, fortnightly or monthly”.
…..
“Oh, right how much does it cost? I’m sorry? How much?”
…..
“$50 each time you come out and extra for chemicals?” Je-sus!
…..
“Well I better make it monthly then”, I am by now revising the pool maintenance for dummies speech I got from my step dad, boy I should have written some of that down.

But in the end I go with the pool shop, I don’t really want to do it (maintain the pool that is), and if they do I never have to worry, oh and I have this serious condition called laziness, don’t know if you have heard of it but I personally have a chronic case. Now to add to this, the pool is totally automated, the pump, filter whatever, is all set on a timer, and I have to press one button to turn on the solar heating (which I had) so I did not have to do anything (but boy does that puppy suck up some power) except swim when I want to and occasionally when the water is mysteriously sucked from the pool, obviously by a thirsty giant with a straw and a penchant for salt water, I have to drop in the hose to top the pool up (and turn on the tap – the effort involved!).

So I’m set, the first time the pool ‘man’ (or men more correctly) came they parked me in and I had to get them to move the van so I could go to work. The second time they walked past my window, which was open while I was getting dressed for work, I had to do some serious fast moving to avoid detection on that one, and mostly the pool ‘man’ is actually a woman – so much for the fantasies! But the pool was always clean and sparkly and good to swim in.

That was until just recently, now about 2 months ago the pool people came out and I got a call saying there was something wrong with the pump and that they had taken it away. They will contact the owner (who they know as he used to get them to do the same thing when he was still here), and then they will bring it back fixed (or a new one) and all would be back to normal. Right? Well so you would think.

It is now winter and in my opinion too cold to swim, so I haven’t been swimming for a few months now. But just as well, I went out assuming that the pump would have been returned weeks ago and all would have been well, to discover it’s still gone and the pool is beginning to turn a murky shade of green.

So I ring the pool shop. Yes they still have the pump, yes they have spoken to the owner, yes, he said it is fine for them to fix it, yes, yes, yes….. But why is it still not fixed? I called the real estate who mimicked the conversation I had with the pool shop and here I am the pool slowly become a swamp and yes it’ll be fixed, let’s hope they get here before next summer!

Christmas, a pot and baked beans on toast

2004-07-30T19:51:00.000+10:00

So this was a few years ago, my mum told me she had bought me a pot for Christmas, she always tells me what she is getting me, I’m not really sure if it’s in a ‘are you ok with this’ capacity or what, but I haven’t had a surprise present for some time. This is ok because I always get a chance to say, no, don’t get me that, what are you thinking? (Not that she listens but at least I have a say). I guess this must run in the family because I always ask the whole family what they want and get them what they ask for, they do the same to me, then at least you don’t have to feign surprise or the traditional “Oh my God, this is awesome, love you guys….” Without at least having practiced it a few times.

So this Christmas my mum told me she was buying me a pot. (no not pot, A pot).

“A pot?”

“Yes, a pot it is a good one, it costs a fortune and that’s what you’re getting.”

“A pot?”

“Yes a pot.”

“So why not just put coal in my stocking and be done with it, ma.”

“Stop you’re whinging, you’ll thank me in the long run”

“Yeah, I’m sure I will.”

And that was it, that Christmas, I got a $250.00 Saffron (this is yellow) coloured, Le Creuset (a fancy French brand) cast iron pot.

For background we always open our presents Christmas eve and have Christmas dinner after this, mum says it so she doesn’t have to do anything (cooking and the like) on Christmas day.

Lucky I have two brothers and a sister, to get supplementary gifts from, and mum never gives us just one thing, we always get lots of little things too, always individually wrapped, so you get an absolute shitload of presents (how much is a shitload you ask, well more than a few but not bucketloads!). If she gave you a pencil sharpener, it would be individually wrapped.

So the festival of present opening concluded, we retire for the evening meal now my mum is a seafood freak, she loves it, absolutely loves it, (she always makes me eat some form of fish product on fish Friday (this is Good Friday) and I manage to smother it with so much tomato sauce that even with scientific testing you would not know there was fish in what I eat of it). But back to Christmas, now she has gone out and purchased a Seafood extravaganza for this meal, lobster, crabs, prawns, oysters you name it she would have had some. As I may have mentioned I do not like seafood, at all, prawns at a push (the poop shoot must always be removed, ALWAYS). But still I am not a big fan. So mum begins cooking up Lobster Mornay, and chilli crab, eating the prawns and the raw oysters (I am far away at this stage – in my opinion eating a raw Oyster is on par with sucking down a phlegm glob – not a nice thing to do).

I am cruising around the kitchen trying to find the roast pork and ham that she must have hidden away somewhere, although I don’t smell it cooking, but I’m sure it’s just the seafood, stinking up the room. The closer it gets to meal time, it begins to dawn on me that this is it.

“Ma, we’re not having Lobster are we?” I tentatively ask.

“That’s what I’m having, you can have some if you want, or there’s the chilli Crab, some Prawns or a few Oysters.”

“Mum – you know I don’t like any of that stuff, where’s the real Christmas dinner?”

She laughs at me, LAUGHS! By this time I think that this is definitely it, but denial is still there trying to convince me otherwise.

“Fine then,” I say and head for the pantry. After about 5 minutes trying to decide what flavour of tinned soup I am going to have I spot a can of baked beans.

“God dammit – mum. I am going to have baked beans for my Christmas dinner.” She starts laughing at me again.

So I sat at the table eating my baked beans on toast, the rest of the family with Lobster or some other form of seafood (YUK!!).

She still gets Lobster every Christmas but I now make sure we always have a roast beast of some sort (even if I buy it and cook it myself). Where is the Christmas tradition in my family? Where? How can I have a great Christmas eating baked beans on toast for my dinner? Where’s the celebration in that?

Screw fashion, pass me my coat….

2004-07-29T18:57:00.000+10:00

Today I saw a girl walking along the street (with a few male admirers, I must add), she was wearing some hipster jeans (so we are talking a few inches (for my American friends) of midriff exposure) and a tiny short sleeved top (Oh and shoes I guess, I was driving past and didn’t really notice – must have been that blinding flash of white from the exposed skin).

What gets me about this is that it is the middle of winter and it is cold… (yeah, yeah, I know, I am a baby). It reminded me a little of when I was back in school (of which, the aforementioned girl would have been around school age now), where it was sacrilege to wear any form of coat, especially rain, as it didn’t look ‘cool’. I would have turned into a popsicle, rather than be warm and as far as rain was concerned, you could have wrung me out some days. All for the sake of coolness. But things change...

So why is this a continuing trend for the young throughout the ages? I have no idea.

I have two (not one but two!) Wool (and Cashmere, dahhh-lings) coats, a plethora of umbrellas (I seem to loose one, and as they don’t cost much I buy another only to find the old one – I think I have about 5 or 6 now), but alas, still no raincoat – that uncool stigma just hangs on for some of us. But this is more than enough to remain warm (and mostly dry).

Why do I now wear them? Maybe it’s because one of these coats kinda looks cool, I don’t know, my brother (well both of them actually) rag on me about being in the Matrix whenever I wear the full length one, it is black and looks similar (but is wool not leather – leather doesn’t actually keep you warm I have found (unless it’s already hot out and then it’s a sweatfest in leather - ummmmm, maybe that's rubber??). I react one of two ways when this happens, I either throw a ‘kiss my ass’ or similar comeback (usually much more offensive) or do a little Matrix spin, so the coat flares out (making the noise that goes along with it – this goes without saying, a little like pretending to be Darth and Luke duking it out, you must make the light sabre noise or there is no point). Hmmmmm, I am supposed to be an adult woman now, right? Oh well. I think I don’t have enough oestrogen, either that or the fact that I have 2 late teenage (ok Matty is 20 now, but behaves no different, I can assure you) brothers that behave this way and influence my behaviour accordingly. Don’t have brothers, you are missing out!! Anyway I am getting way off track.

The other coat is shorter (just covers my ass) in length and looks ok, I wouldn’t consider it to be cool as such but it is warm and I can wear this in the office as the full length one does look silly here (when I am sitting at my desk anyhow). I guess the main deciding factor is they keep me warm and that’s more important to me now. I did see however, another girl, later in the day who was wearing a coat that looked as though she had killed a bear, buffalo or some kind of brown furry animal and had thrown its hide around her shoulders (fur out), a scary hairy coat, they may be the ‘fashion’ in coats, maybe the first girl just didn’t know, but I’ll pass on the furry coats.....

So what am I babbling on about today? Well I guess the main point of the story is that I will wear clothes that keep me warm rather than clothes that are the in thing, don’t get me wrong I do have winter stuff that looks good, but has minimal to no skin exposure and sometimes even all covered I’ll still wear my coat!

And finally (here is a nasty confession) I have, oh yes, have, left the house wearing my Ugg boots (these are sheepskin boots – I have knee high ones) a pair of track pants – not those noisy ones just plain fleecy lined material (why do they call them a pair I wonder?) and a flano (this is a flannelette shirt, I have a few but the blue plaid one is my fav). I have on every occasion covered a majority of this outfit with my full length coat but you can always see the boots, the coat has a split up the back so generally you can see the pants too and to be perfectly honest the buttons don’t start 'till half way down the chest so you can usually see the shirt too, lucky for the all saving scarf I add to this ensemble.... and if I put on my beanie and gloves..... wow, I am something to behold. But this is a privileged outfit and it doesn’t get out much, I mostly only wear it if I am too lazy to change and we are going for an ice-cream run or to the video store late at night.

So fashion victim? I think not..... Give me my coat I’m going out.

By the way, the title doesn't really fit with the story but I like it and it's going to stay.

Horror Scope

2004-07-28T18:39:00.000+10:00

I got this from this blog when I was cruising around the web yesterday.

Find out who you truly are....in a negative sense, that is.

This is me.

Aries (Ram)

Born March 21 - April 19

Aggressive to the extreme, the Aries is primitive - warlike and cruel. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, he often has trouble remembering the simplest of things. The Aries will often try to backstab his peers, but luckily, he usually lacks the mental capacity to succeed. He is vulgar and blunt, and incapable of subtlety.

From early childhood, Rams aspire to be a career soldier or an astronaut - which is why they constantly go around trying to pick fights with everyone they meet.

An Aries should be kept as far away from family savings as possible - he will blow it all at the first chance, but will not remember how or why. He is unbearably dull in a conversation, mostly due to an annoying tendency to ramble on for hours about himself, completely oblivious to those around him. When drunk, an Aires will usually become rowdy and violent, often making a scene.

To find out your (not so good) character traits click here.

A puzzle and some facts

2004-07-27T18:49:00.000+10:00

I have a(n almost) fetish for logic puzzles, I love them, can’t get enough, so as I like to cruise around other blogs, I always find it fun to stop when someone offers up a quiz or something that is a little challenge (mentally of course). It’s always fun...mostly...

I’m sure you’ve all heard of the “What colour was the bear” puzzle. So here is something a little harder for you. This has always been one of my favourites. The names have not been changed to save the innocent.

Here goes:

Jack and Jill are found lying on the floor dead, they are surrounded by pools of water and broken glass. What happened?

Have a go and I’ll tell you the answer tomorrow.

Oh and the most exciting thing to happen to me today? I got lost looking for a valuers office, although I did stop and ask for directions (twice!). Don’t be too hard on me, I had a very busy day and I just walked straight past it (it was just a doorway and was kinda hidden before you judge my mental capacity…).

As the posts pretty short and I usually post oodles of words, here are some quirky facts (yeah, right!) to chunk it out a bit. The comments were already there and are not from me.

If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.
(Hardly seems worth it.)

If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.
(Now that's more like it!)

The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the body to squirt blood 30 feet.
(Oh My God!)

A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes.
(In my next life, I want to be a pig.)

A cockroach will live nine days without its head before it starves to death.
(Creepy...I'm still not over the pig.)

Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour.
(Do not try this at home...... maybe at work.)

The male praying mantis cannot copulate while its head is attached to its body. The female initiates sex by ripping the male's head off.
("Honey, I'm home. What the....?!")

The flea can jump 350 times its body length. It's like a human jumping the length of a football field.
(30 minutes... lucky pig... can you imagine??)

The catfish has over 27,000 taste buds.
(What could be so tasty on the bottom of a pond?)

Some lions mate over 50 times a day.
(I still want to be a pig in my next life...quality over quantity)

Butterflies taste with their feet.
(Something I always wanted to know.)

Right-handed people live, on average, nine years longer than left-handed people.
(If you're ambidextrous, do you split the difference?)

Elephants are the only animals that cannot jump.
(OK, so that would be a good thing....)

A cat's urine glows under a black light.
(I wonder who was paid to figure that out?)

An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
(I know some people like that.)

Starfish have no brains.
(I know some people like that too.)

Polar bears are left-handed.
(If they switch, they'll live a lot longer.)

Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure.
(What about that pig??)

Birdshit and a bone

2004-07-26T18:31:00.000+10:00

So it’s raining today (as it was yesterday, and the day before, and the day before and even the day before that – I think). So what exciting escapades have I gotten up to over the weekend? A big fat nothing, I finished my report and sent it off, but my most exciting jaunt was out to buy groceries and to get my boy (this is my dog) a bone, which closely resembles the rib cage of a cow (probably because that is exactly what it is!). He spent literally hours trying to rip the ribs from the spine, I even went out with a hammer (ok it was a meat mallet) and a knife to give him a hand, but to no avail, that cartilage is something else. But I notice the bone is gone this morning, so I think it is secretly buried somewhere in an effort to rot those joints away – no doubt in a few days I will probably be able to tell where it is from the tell tale stench.

So the most exciting thing to happen today? Well the rain on my car today has washed away the bird shit that has been on the bonnet for about 2 weeks now (it’s just a car, I could give a shit if it looks clean). But let me tell you of the story of how it got there to start with. I park my car down by the river which is about a block from where I work, everywhere else it is 2 hour parking and the parking inspector gets around, so if you don’t want a ticket you park down by the river. So about a fortnight ago I parked my car under a Eucalyptus tree down there, in the shade, you know. Now I am not sure if you are familiar with the Sulphur Crested Cockatoo (these are big white parrots with a yellow crest) or the Galah (these look the same as the white Cockatoo’s but are grey with pink crests and wings). These fuckers always hang around in the trees here, the Australian natives actually(the trees that is), they eat the nuts in them you see. I blame these birds entirely for the rest of this story.

So I go to get in my car in the semi dark, as usual. I’m driving along (as usual) and I look toward the passenger side of the windscreen. I can see a grey/white looking patch on the window, but I am not too sure of what this is at this stage and think – hey lets get that off the windscreen.

Easy job right? Well it may have been if I had any water in the windscreen squirty things (I have no idea of the real name of these). So I hit the water squirty knob and what happens? Well no water to speak of but the windscreen wipers automatically go in an attempt to remove the water that isn’t there and in effect smearing this very fresh and very large pile of bird shit across the windscreen. I was like someone had thrown a bucket of white paint across the windscreen. I couldn’t see shit (yeah, I get the pun).

So here I am squinting through the whitewashed windscreen trying to make my way along the road. The worst of it is I don’t have a tap (that I can turn on – I am a weakling – I admit it) or any kind of hose in the front yard, so I limp (figuratively speaking, of course, I am after all still driving the car), with very restricted vision to the nearest Servo and pull up – to get petrol of course and hey, since I’m there anyway, I may as well clean my windscreen. I have never seen so much bird shit in all my life and I am very careful I don’t lean in it as I clean, don’t need to explain what that stain is.

I think I must have parked my car under some community branch for the birds, or at least their public toilet. So now I always look up when I park. No tree, that’s the spot for me!

Does anyone have a bug problem?

2004-07-25T10:04:00.000+10:00

It's the weekend, I have to do a Palaeontology report - did I mention I was doing a 'Science' Degree. Anyhow, hope you are all having a great weekend and here's a funny I got on an email the other day...

Oh no, poor Spidey, I can see the headline now...."Spiderman 3 cancelled due to freak accident"....

You know, it kinda makes you wonder why the Goblin or Dr Oct, didn't just whip out a can of Raid, but I guess that would make for a pretty short movie.

And a diet Coke, thanks…

2004-07-23T18:40:00.000+10:00

I stood behind him in a certain fast food chain getting his Mac attack (now I’ll be sued, damn it). The order went something like this…

“I’ll have a Big Mac meal, oh and can I also grab a Quarterpounder (is that one word or two – lets make it one shall we?) with cheese as well.” (Ugh, I can feel my arteries hardening, yeah, I know, if I feel this way why am I even there? – well this story would be hard to tell if I wasn’t).

“Of course sir, could I upsize that for you?”

“Sure, why not.”

“And is a Coke OK for the drink?”

“Oh, no can I have a diet Coke, thanks”. (I subconsciously felt my eyebrows rising – he did not just ask for a "diet" Coke, did he?).

What is with that? A diet Coke? Yes-sir-e-bob that’ll surely balance out all those nasties from the fat fest you’re about to eat. This never ceases to amaze me, why even bother? Have your glass (ok, plastic cup) of sugar with the fat fest, balance all that shit out. But in his defence, he may be hypoglycaemic (all I know about this condition is that you can’t have sugar – don’t know anything more about it than that – and even then I may be wrong).

But honestly, I have seen this diet Coke behaviour many times, it’s crazy, I tell you crazy! So now it’s my turn to be served.

“Hi can I take your order”

“Sure, can I get a Fish burger (I refuse to use the McBurgers name) and a diet Coke thanks”. (tee hee!)

Not again, when will they ever learn?

PS. This story has been embellished beyond recognition from what actually happened, there were multiple burgers involved and the drink to accompany them was indeed a diet Coke (I was not the purchaser or the eater and I can assure you that they were not hypoglycaemic either, for interests sake), all the rest is speculation and hearsay, but it reads better this way.

The boys night

2004-07-22T19:32:00.000+10:00

One of my group of friends decided to have a boys night one Friday, you know, drinking and whatever else boys do (yes, I think there was porn involved). How do boys watch porn together, I wonder? At the end of the movie (plot filled as it is) is there is a lot of throat clearing and uncomfortable squirming as no one wants to stand up quite yet? Perhaps a few, “Can you pass me that cushion?” (and no, I DO NOT mean for kneeling on). Who knows?

Anyhow I was away at a course in Melbourne for the week but I was arriving back that night and I had been speaking to one of my (girl) friends who said she and one of our other friends were going to crash the boys night. I said if I got back early enough I would join them.

My plane arrived home at about 9pm and (to cut a very long story short) my bag had missed the plane (fuck the airline – whatever…). So I am already pissed off and up until this point I had decided to go home and watch TV, my mum was coming to visit me this night too, so I gave her a call to see where she was only to find out she was still at her house and it being a 2 hour drive to get to mine (which for some reason mum always manages to stretch to 3) I thought, screw this I’m going to the boys night.

I told my mum to call me as she was getting into town and I would go home to meet her, this arranged I picked up my Bacardi and a bottle of Coke and off I go (yes I always have a supply for emergencies of this sort – as a matter of fact, I have a relatively well stocked bar at my place, I am not an alcoholic, it’s just for emergencies, as I have previously stated – what is it they say? The first sign is denial). Our illustrious hosts place is at the end of my street so a quick drive (no, as close as it was you don’t walk around my town after dark) and I am there.

I meet up with the other two girls outside and we decide a full frontal assault is the best approach (full frontal is just an expression, there was no removal of any clothes, well not ours anyway). So we knock and wait. You can hear strange sexual noises, moaning and the like, and when the door finally opens (the TV is turned off at this stage – I am assuming this is where the noise was coming from and let’s leave it at that) there is a look of surprise on our hosts face.

“Uh, hi”.
“Hi there, can we come in?” Says one of the girls pushing past him.
“Ahhh, ummm, sure, I guess”.

Scowls are on the faces of every other guy in the room. Looks as though they are going to have to make this a PG party now the girls are here, poor fellas. I’m sure if they offered we would have at least attempted to watch the porn, for a little while, anyway.

Once the boys all recover from our rude interruption and can stand once again without embarrassment, we move to the much cleaner forum of drinking games. We play one where everyone sits around the table and two opposing people are given a glass and a coin the object is to bounce the coin on the table and have it land in the glass (which is quite difficult to the unskilled, ie, me) and then pass it to the next person. If both glasses end up in front of one person they have to skull their drink. So this goes on for over an hour and the room is getting fuzzy and I am getting progressively worse and worse as I can no longer see the coin or the glass quite as clearly as I should be able to. By this time the table has an array of tiny dints from the coins, which our host assures us is fine, no really, it’s fine!

Then the boys decide to tell little stories about themselves. Just so you can gauge the level of friends I have here is one of their stories. I am not sure that many of the stories in the telling directly relates to any of them personally, you know, the I have a friend who…except the one about the prostitute, which I will save for another day…. Incidentally all the stories were about their sexual exploits or drugs.

So the tale begins.

A few years back (bear in mind this guy is 21 now). He and some of his friends got hold of some Viagra (now you can already see where this story is going). The pills are kinda small, like aspirin, he said. So he discusses it with his friends and decides, like aspirin that you really need to take two to get any effect. So he chugs them down. What happens next, well… he tells us his heart starts to race and he get this sweaty horrible feeling like he’s about to have a heart attack. And subsequently gets the desired effect from the pills, a ‘bone’ (direct quote, umm, yes nice use of the English language – I am beginning to think this word is commonplace in the male vocab). He said it was as though it was angry, a raging hard-on, if you will, he tried everything to get it to go down, he said that he had sex with his girlfriend almost constantly (I’m sure this was an exaggeration, but not by much) to try to get rid of it. He had a ‘bone’ for two days before it finally subsided. By the end of the story we were all rolling on the floor laughing. He said he would never touch the stuff again (they all say that). Let that be a warning to you boys who are thinking about this, just one is enough (so I’m told). And if you are keen I have plenty of spam email I could send your way.....(when will they learn that I don’t need Viagra and I don’t need a larger penis either, as a matter of fact I don’t have one at all!!)

Anyway a little while later my mum called and I got her to pick me up, I left my car there and walked back around to get it the next day (drinking and driving is bad kids). Some of the guys were still there, but as I had a visitor I couldn’t stay, most of them were looking a little worse for wear, I love how Bacardi doesn’t give me a hangover!

Time to have some "Fun"

2004-07-21T18:50:00.000+10:00

We had a meeting on Monday, the whole office. The corporate peons are talking about how we have to make work “fun” (Yeah I know, I already have the wrong attitude about it). I would never consider office work to be fun, for starters it’s not outside, there are fluorescent lights sapping my energy at every turn (I can believe that, even if it’s not actually true),and while you get the odd one, people in Finance aren’t always a riot (except for me, ummmm.... oh and my friends – naturally this goes without saying(well I did say it, so maybe it needed to be said, oh I could go on forever....)).

Not to punish any that actually do read this, I will today spare you from a story and instead share with you an email I got a few years back (I kept it because it’s funny – and yesterday I found it while cleaning out my emails, I don’t recall who it is from, I sent it to myself at home and I always clear the meters of text that says forward, forward, forward, forward, forward, forward, forward, forward, forward, forward, you get my point, so if this is yours please lay claim to it, but if you didn’t want it passed on, why did you stick it on an email to start with?) Oh, and it fits in with the topic de jour.

So here is my suggestion for making the office fun, no I didn’t take it to the meeting, I didn’t actually find it until after it was over, but if I had it, I may have…. The winning score after a month should automatically get a day off (I think). Why not try it?

ONE-POINT OFFICE DARES

1) Run one lap around the office at top speed.
2) Groan out loud in the toilet cubicle (at least one other 'non-player' must be in the toilet at the time).
3) Ignore the first five people who say 'good morning' to you.
4) Phone someone in the office you barely know, leave your name and say, "Just called to say I can't talk right now. Bye."
5) To signal the end of a conversation, clamp your hands over your ears and grimace.
6) When someone hands you a piece of paper, finger it, and whisper
huskily, Mmmmmmm, that feels soooooo good!”
7) Leave your zipper open for one hour. If anyone points it out, say, Sorry, I really prefer it this way".
8) Walk sideways to the photocopier.
9) While riding a lift, gasp dramatically every time the doors open.

THREE-POINTS DARES

1) Say to your boss, "I like your style" and shoot him with double-barreled fingers.
2) Babble incoherently at a fellow employee then ask, "Did you get all that, I don't want to have to repeat it".
3) Page yourself over the intercom (do not disguise your voice).
4) Kneel in front of the water cooler and drink directly from the nozzle (there must be a 'non-player' within sight).
5) Shout random numbers while someone is counting.

FIVE POINT DARES

1) At the end of a meeting, suggest that, for once, it would be nice to conclude with the singing of the national anthem (extra points if you actually launch into it yourself).
2) Walk into a very busy person's office and while they watch you with growing irritation, turn the light switch on/off 10 times.
3) For an hour, refer to everyone you speak to as "Bob".
4) Announce to everyone in a meeting that you "really have to go do a number two".
5) After every sentence, say 'mon' in a really bad Jamaican accent. As in "the report's on your desk, mon". Keep this up for one hour.
6) While an office mate is out, move their chair into the lift.
7) In a meeting or crowded situation, slap your forehead repeatedly and mutter, "Shut up, damn it, all of you just shut up!”
8) At lunchtime, get down on your knees and announce, As God is my witness, I'll never go hungry again".
9) In a colleague’s diary, write in 10am: "See how I look in tights".
10) Carry your keyboard over to your colleague and ask "You wanna trade?”
11) Repeat the following conversation 10 times to the same person: "Do you
hear that?" "What?" "Never mind, it's gone now".
12) come to work in army fatigues and when asked why, say, "I can't talk about it".
13) Posing as a maitre d', call a colleague and tell him he's won a lunch for four at a local restaurant. Let him go.
14) Speak with an accent (French, German, Porky Pig, etc) during a very important conference call.
15) Find the vacuum and start vacuuming around your desk.
16) Hang a two-foot long piece of toilet roll from the back of your pants and act genuinely surprised when someone points it out.
17) Present meeting attendees with a cup of coffee and biscuit, smash each biscuit with your fist.
18) During the course of a meeting, slowly edge your chair towards the door.
19) Arrange toy figures on the table to represent each meeting attendee, move them according to the movements of their real-life counterparts.

And if that wasn't enough for you...
1) at lunchtime, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hairdryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.
2) Tell your children over dinner. "Due to the economy, we are going to have to let one of you go."
3) Every time someone asks you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.
4) Put your rubbish bin on your desk and label it "IN."
5) Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over his or her caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.
6) In the subject field for all your e-mails, write “FOR SEXUAL FAVOURS".
7) Finish all your sentences with "In accordance with the prophecy."
8) Don't use any punctuation.
9) As often as possible, skip rather than walk.
10) Ask people what sex they are. Laugh hysterically after they answer.
11) Specify that your drive-through order is "to go."
12) Sing along at the opera.
13) Go to a poetry recital and ask why the poems don't rhyme.
14) Put mosquito netting around your work area. Play a tape of jungle sounds all day.
15) Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend party because you're not in the mood.
16) Have your co-workers address you by your wrestling name, Rock Hard.
17) When the money comes out of the ATM, scream "I Won! I Won! 3rd time this week!!!"
18) When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot yelling, “Run for your lives, they're loose!"

Messy me.

2004-07-20T19:17:00.000+10:00

Why is it I can never eat a meal without spilling it down my shirt? OK, I’ll give you that it’s not every meal, but I would say it would be a fifty – fifty split, which would be a conservative estimate. It doesn’t matter where I am, I can’t say it only happens when I’m out as it happens at home too.

I think this is genetic, my mother does this all the time too, and maybe it’s not necessarily the spilling that is genetic but where it lands – right in the middle of ample bosom land, and this I am assured I do get from my mother.

Now I have a friend that is flat chested, if you cut off her head you wouldn’t be able to pick her as a girl, she has the spilling gene also, but all her spills land straight in her lap! Much, much easier to hide.

It has come to the point that I am consciously aware of it now and take extra care that it does not happen, but still the spills just keep coming.

My worst experience to date was a few months back when I went out to lunch with a friend, we had Chinese and – you guessed it – chop sticks. Now I am not an old hat to the chopstick phenomenon but I wouldn’t starve if they were the only form of eating tool. On this day I did not have one, but three separate spills. The front of my shirt was looking a little like the buffet table itself!

Once my hideous friend had stopped laughing, which took a while let me tell you, she told me she wanted to go to a nearby shop before we left to get something. I looked down at my shirt, she started to laugh AGAIN and said “too bad, come on…..” I love my friends.

Now luckily, all was not lost I had purchased something earlier and I used the bag as cover, you know where you cross your arms over your chest as you hold the bag close to you. This, I am sure looked ridiculous, but not as much as buffet shirt would have.

So I followed her around the shop in a childlike, “are you done yet?” fashion and finally she was.

We went home and I discarded said shirt to the washing pile and put on a fresh one in readiness for the next meal.

Maybe I should just get a bib and be done with it.

A free bottle of Beer

2004-07-19T18:40:00.000+10:00

So here I sit writing this is a slight haze, well ok it’s not really that bad I have only had one beer. One of the guys at work walked around today at 5ish handing out beer. I as a rule am generally not fond of the stuff but I thought what the hell, so I took one. I go to leave for home half and hour later and I still hadn’t drunk more than maybe a sip or two. As it is illegal to walk around the street with unhidden (well I think you have to have it in some sort of bag) beer, I decide to chug the rest.

This is a mistake, but I do it anyway. Now feeling like I am going to hurl (yeah I know, I know, a girl who can take her liquor!), I say good bye to the guys (I work in an office full of men and only 2 other women – it is not as good as you would think, men are bitches too). And my boss catches me leaving, he makes sure that I got a beer, yes thanks, I did. Don’t forget to take a roadie he quips at me as I head for the door. Never to be the one that doesn’t do what I am told I grab one on my way out the door, but don’t open it, it will spill in the car and I am sure there is some law about drinking and driving. Not so much DUI (driving under the influence) – there is definitely a law about that, but actually drinking and eating while you are driving, I heard some hubbabaloo about this ages ago never heard anything further but you know, I don’t want to take that risk.

The drive home - uneventful as always (but I did sneak through a rail crossing as the lights started to flash – I made that much more dramatic sounding than it was, believe me). I started to think about my boss (not in that way). He would be in his late thirties and is a pub goer, he always makes a big deal of it when I don’t go out to the pub with him and the rest of the guys. I hate the pub, It’s always smoky and as I have never smoked I hate the way it feels as though I have been bathing my eyes in acid and the smell that gets in my hair and through my clothes, not to mention the drunken idiots that are all over the place like some sort of plague. Also none of the people I work with are actually my friends so I would rather have my teeth pulled than hang out with them (I am working on my social skills). But back to the boss, I think he is an arrogant prick, he is not even the sort of person I would choose to associate with let alone have a relationship with. (Well actually he does sound exactly like some of the guys I have had relationships with in the past – oh well).

So to finish, I now have a bottle of beer in the fridge that will probably stay there until some one comes to visit and I give it to them to drink. Because as I mentioned I don’t really like beer, it’s just, I guess, the chance to take something for free.

PS. You’ll be happy to know that the buzz is now completely gone and all I have left is the bitter taste from the beer in my mouth, the things we do.

Paintball

2004-07-18T17:03:00.000+10:00

Ahhhhhh, the sweet satisfaction of shooting your best friend in the ass while you hunch down behind a rock giggling hysterically as they look for the one who shot them…..

A few months back after an exhaustive amount of organising a friend of mine and I managed to organise a work function to play paintball on a Saturday, I use the term ‘work function’ loosely as all of our immediate friends (work and otherwise were invited) and in the end only about 5 were actually from work and we ended up with a group of around 14 people.

I had never played before but the opportunity to take pot shots at my friends (or anyone else, for that matter) was a very appealing thing for me, not that I don’t like them but I though it sounded like fun.

So I get up at the crack of dawn (in my opinion the clock shouldn’t actually start on a Saturday until around 12) to leave by 7.30am, it is around a one and a half hour drive to the site we are playing at and we are supposed to be there by 9am. I waited for my friend, who was running late (tisk, tisk) and once she arrived we got going.

A relatively uneventful drive got us to the town with the field around 9 and we’re on the road leading there, now picture this, we come to an intersection, one way is tar sealed, the other a dirt road. Our turn? You guessed it, the dirt road. It didn’t look too bad for the first hundred meters or so but then it turned into a four wheeled drive extravaganza. My car is a relatively boring, ordinary sedan, but if I drive it super slow it seems to be doing ok on the river bed/cliff face that is trying to convince us that it is indeed a road. By this time I have caught up to a few other friends who are also on the Death Valley road. The one directly in front of me was driving his recently purchased sports car and it was just plane ugly to watch him driving along here. But we all made it through without event.

So we’re finally at the field. We are told to get some overalls from the bags supplied and go and line up for our pellets and our gun, face mask and ladies your (you guessed it) chest protector – heaven forbid you take one to the chest. In retrospect I shouldn’t mock this because one of the girls did take one to the chest (without the protector) and she was still whinging about it over a week later. The scary thing is one of the guys brought his own cammo’s (a seasoned player, I was told – I prefer to think of him as a tosser) and one of my friends used to play as a school sport (and I had been warned he was very good).

Now I was going to skip ahead but I just wanted to share the concept of overalls with you, these are not the easiest things to put on, especially when you have 10 men ogling at you as you try to duck down behind one of the parked cars – they pretend not to look, but they are! One of my friends picks me up a small pair and tosses it over, I take one look at the fit (which I think was made for a ten year old boy) and ask her for a bigger pair. All these overalls are (very) obviously made for men, no room for hips or boobs (especially with the chest protectors) but after I manage to crush my femineity into the straight up and down overalls and get one of my (girl) friends help me pull them up over my shoulders (with the crotch riding quite high) and finally zip them up, it’s on, commando style.

So geared up, my 500 pellets at the ready (ok, so they were in a baggy on the side of the field and the only ones on me where in my gun which was loaded to capacity). We go through a lecture on safety. No shooting anyone closer than 5 meters, always put your guns down barrel up, if you get shot go off the field immediately, if you’re having problems stand up straight and hold your gun above your head and a ref will come to you, blah, blah, blah.

So now it’s time for the first game, incidentally by this time it is close to 11am. So we are split into teams and by some shear force of luck I have both the tosser and schoolboy players on my team. So the first game my gun broke, I threw a hissy fit and stormed off to the man to fix it, he took his sweet ass time to do so, but he remade my gun refilled my pellets and around 15 minutes later sent me on my merry way. I had missed the rest of the first game (bugger!). But on with the show……. the second game I was like a sniper, well a sniper actually hits people right? Ok, I was like a crazed madman, shooting here and there, but not actually hitting anything, although my gun after its repair had fantastic distance. I am covering someone else who is trying to creep up through the grass and then I hear a splotch sound a see orange paint start to run down my goggles. I have been popped off by some bastard who sneaked around behind me when I wasn’t looking, oh well off the field I go.

So after a few more games we stop for lunch then back into the fray. Now I am fully aware that I am not the fittest person in the world but I didn’t think I was too bad. For our next adventure we are going up the mountain, to play in the relative bunkers dotted up the mountain side, they send our team and then the other team comes a few minutes later and tries to make it to the top. So off my team heads and I am refilling my gun, yep now it’s done, shit now I almost have to run to catch up, now I get about 20 meters up the relatively steep incline to realise that I am probably the unfittest person on the planet, I am starting to break into a sweat and I have started to puff ALREADY. So I slowly walk/crawl up a few meters further to a bunker and fall in. But now I am in position to shoot anyone coming my way. No one made it to the top but I don’t think I was responsible for putting anyone down, that said I didn’t get shot either.

Now for an old abandoned house. One team is stationed inside and tries to keep the other team out. I hooked up with one of my team members and we belly crawled across to the hedge close to the house, only to be spotted by at least 3 of the other team. We were back to back and pellets were flying left right and centre, we managed to hold out for a few minutes but eventually we were both hit (and off the field we go).

Now the final game (finally, I hear you say!). This game was back on the first field, which was just piles of tyres all over the place, it began as team against team, but ended in a free for all. When this was called I had Mr Schoolboy standing almost directly behind me, he turned and ran the appropriate 5 meter distance and shot me in the back (bastard)! This made me run to the side - people at this stage were going everywhere to avoid this kind of thing happening to them too. I managed to cower down behind a tree and shoot my remaining bullets at whoever I saw, but in all honesty I’m not sure that any of my 500 pellets actually hit pay dirt. But I had managed to get hit 3 times and had some pretty impressive bruises to show.

An insight provided by my brother

2004-07-18T01:17:00.000+10:00

A few years ago my brother came to stay with me for a week, he has stayed before, but usually with the rest of the family, this time he came alone, I am 12 years older than my brother Matt (I use his real name as I have two brothers and don’t want to get him confused with the other for future stories). My mother got remarried and had more children (or issue as she lovingly refers to us) long story and not that relevant at this time.

Now whilst visiting Matty, who was around 18 at the time, spent almost 24 hours a day rotating between playing games on my PC and watching cable TV. He did however, emerge for the odd meal. I was at work during the day so I didn’t really mind, but I made him come out and talk to me at night.

I, as the responsible adult asked him one of these days if he had any washing as I was putting on a load. He looked at me and said:

“Yep Nord (OK, he used my real name) could you wash my trackkies for me”. I was happily about to take them when he proceeded to tell me why they needed washing. I still laugh when I think this story. This is what he told me………

“Nord, I peed on them when I went to the toilet”.

I looked at him, “Huh?” and refused to touch them in light of this new information.

“Well, I woke up this morning with a piss fat and when I went to the toilet I couldn’t aim straight and I peed down my leg”.

“A piss fat?” Oh boy, I had to ask, didn’t I?

“Yeah, you know when you wake up with a bone because you really need to go”. (I just loved his grasp on the English language).

To be honest I didn’t know, not only because I am not a man, but because I had never been told, but this was enough to make me start laughing and I didn’t stop for some time. I made him put his own pants in the machine and I washed them for him, I am such a nice sister. The moral here, when you wake up with your boy and think he’s happy to see you, he may just need to pee….

My fridge

2004-07-15T20:12:00.000+10:00

Tonight I opened my fridge, hoping the grocery fairy had filled it up with food. But I guess she had skipped past my house once again. The fridge though, had a weird, skanky smell emanating from it. The smell, even though I am not completely familiar with it, is I am sad to say, vaguely familiar. You see, I regularly do my best to breed new forms of life in my vegetable crisper, although I didn’t think anything in there would have this level of smell. Braving the new life forms they may leap and destroy me I opened the draw to have a look. Some cauliflower, a half squashed tomato (which has no visible mould (and I threw away)). But nothing else there. The other drawer, carrots (god only knows how long they have been there as I don’t eat them – but they looked fine so they stayed), Broccoli (I don’t care what Clinton says, I love Broccoli) some Chives and a very suspicious looking, very mouldy piece of pumpkin, this also got thrown away but the smell remained. I think if I bought vegetables at the shop and just immediately threw them away I would save all this hassle.

As I desperately need to do some shopping all my fridge has on the shelves is a block of cheese, some leftovers from last week (also hit the bin, but still not the culprits of the smell) and a plethora of half full jars and bottles ranging from jam to tomato sauce. Two bottles of wine and a bottle of Bailey’s (well a girls gotta have her comforts).

And then I see it, half hidden behind the leftovers I just turfed and the wine. Half a Pineapple, now to add a bit of perspective here, it is the middle of winter and I can’t recall eating any form of fresh fruit (that wasn’t an apple) since Summer, this means this Pineapple would have been in it’s secret hiding spot for months. And looking at it you could tell, it still looked like a Pineapple, except for the colour, it had a strange pinky-orange coloured film across the top of the cut section and the outside had turned a dark brown. So out she went too.

Now with little Miss Stinky sitting in my bin (well…if you consider a plastic shopping bag hanging from the kitchen cupboard handle a bin) I also had to empty that, ok empty isn’t really the right word, throw the bag away is probably more to the point. Now I always thought I could handle bad smells, but the bin outside sits in the sun and has something very nasty going on with it also. So I walk out to the bin, hold my breath, lift the lid, drop the garbage in, shut the lid and step away as quickly as possible so I could breathe once again. One day I will hose it out…..one day…… So I come back inside, have cheese on toast for dinner (again) and vow to go shopping tomorrow.

What should be a simple purchase

2004-07-13T19:43:00.000+10:00

Today at lunchtime I went to buy a DVD, not a hard task, I knew what I was looking for and, I (wrongly) thought I would be in and out. It is school holidays and every child known to man is hanging out in the shop I want to go to – doesn’t matter which shop, they are there. I wouldn’t want to give the impression that I don’t like kids, I am just as happy as your every day average Joe to stand next to the mother who is ignoring her crying child in the supermarket line.

But back to the story, I am filled with hope that this time the sales assistant will know the movie I ask for and take me straight to it. Or for an even more amazing event that as I walk into the “home entertainment” section of the store, it will be looking right at me, on sale (Yippee!!) and I can pick it up, buy it and leave.

But as I walk to the DVD’s an impending feeling of doom encompasses me. I see the Sales girl – some late teen/twenty something that has a job in a department store – so you already know she’s got it going on (all I can say is for teenage boy Sales assistant is they usually know all about the Indy flicks that I am also partial to, so if you ask them if they have a particular movie they usually know what movie you’re talking about).

So I deviate to the shelves hoping to spot said flick. I scan the specials isle, well not actually a scan more like a 10 to 20 minute look under that one, move that across just in case it’s underneath there, to no avail. Ok now to the alphabetised section, what I am looking for should, I say SHOULD very loosely, be under the letter C. But of the, oh I don’t know, maybe 10 titles filed under this letter that actually begin with C, I don’t see it. I then turn to the opposite isle and catch a glance of the letter T. To my shock and horror, what do I see? The Last Samurai (haven’t seen it, don’t love the Cruise), “The” this and “The” that………. So much for the alphabet, I am never going to find what I am looking for! I glance once again toward the sales girl, looks as though this is going to be my only option. I walk over and once she finally acknowledges me, the conversation goes a lot like this:

Me: “Hi, have you got Blah?” (OK this is not actually the name of the movie – that’s not particularly relevant – and Blah start with the letter B).

Her: “Oh, I’ve never heard of it, what’s it called again?”

I must at this point put a previous response from a sales girl on a previous occasion where the above sentence stopped at the word “it”. I was in a super bad mood and answered with “So you’re telling me that because you have never heard of it, it doesn’t exist? Do you know of every movie ever made?” I think at this point I walked off, this wasn’t in my home town (wouldn’t want to get black listed) and I was beyond caring at that point.

To continue……

Me “Blah”.

Her: “Oh, you sure that’s it’s name?”

Me “Yes, I’m sure”

Her “Did you look under C?”

Me “Yes, I did.”

Her “Oh well, we mustn’t have it”.

No offer to find it, no looking at the famed computer. At this point I am quite close to strangling the girl. But as you can go to jail for this, I turn, without a thank you (this is as rude as I can make myself be in a public forum (where I may just return)) and walk away.

I think of how this happens every single time I go into this store and I berate myself for doing it over and over again.

The definition of stupidity? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

One day I will learn. To finish the story on a good note, my mum gave me an internet site to order DVD’s from that kicks ass, they have every single movie I could possibly dream of, even the “Are you sure that’s it’s name?” one.

In the beginning.....

2004-06-29T13:01:00.000+10:00

Ok today I have decided to set this up. I work in Finance (yawn) but I have been working for the same company for years and I have come to the conclusion that if I hated it that much I would have left years ago, that said I am doing a degree whilst working and am looking to get out once I have finished.

So what happened to me today? Nothing of note, really. I have been looking around at quite a few other blogs, posting the odd comment and reading lots of funny and entertaining stories. While doing my work, of course. It is difficult to explain why I am laughing at my desk though when the odd person walks by. Some of this stuff, on the other blogs is just plain nasty. But strangely enough this is what I find the most funny. What does that say about me?

So on with the day, I realise I haven’t said much, but I have a meeting until 7 tonight and I will try to update this more later.