Two in one day! Now aren't you Lucky!

Last week I did a wander in Freo near my office and took some shots with my little digi camera, here they are.

Commitment Lacking

Ok, so I know I have not been super committed to this site in the last week. Many apologies. I have just been up to my ear lobes in work and stress.

Please however to go and enjoy these latest photo's on Flickr. I have finally uploaded the photos from my joint b'day Karaoke sesh, and very soon there will be some nice arty shots of Freo.

Prep for the 1st Baby Shower

On Saturday I am going to attend my first baby shower, for a girlfriend of mine. She is an absolute doll, and I am sooo excited about going to the shower (and about the baby of course). So yesterday, in preparation I went out to buy her a gift. I was going to get her all the Bunnikins gear, you know the ceramic bowl, double handled cup, spoon with the handle, all that sorta junk. This was the traditional gift in my family for babies. But then I made the huuugggee mistake, and just let me emphasise huuugggee mistake of going into a really funky baby shop in South Perth, and came out with a couple of other items which do not match the previous description…at all! I still really want to get the Bunnikins stuff but now I can’t afford to get that too!

I swear to god, that no woman over the age of 21 should be allowed inside a baby shop! No way, hoossaay! Especially not in Spring! I was like a kid in a candy store! There were cute dresses, jumpsuits, giant rubber ducky’s, booties, hats, cool t-shirts with “Got Milk” written on them. How were the Bunnikins ever going to compete with that? They just didn’t stand a chance. I wanted to buy everything in there, and I mean everything!

I got home with a huge bag containing two expertly wrapped gifts and the cutest card ever (!) for my friend and her future daughter. The first thing I said to my husband was that under no circumstances was he to allow me near that shop again, especially when we eventually pop out our own watermelons. Because I swear, if I go there again, I will spend every cent we have, and don’t have (on credit) in that shop, till there is absolutely nothing cute left in there.

I must admit, I might even have to hold him back too, cause when I told him about the Got Milk baby t-shirt he just about ran for the keys and the car to go down there and buy it. But I mean who wouldn’t? That’s funny sh*t!

Anxiety

I think I may have just had an anxiety attack or something?! I started freaking out, breathing really fast, feeling that all was hopeless, very fidgety, very agitated, and couldn’t even sit down until I had washed the dishes, scrubbed the stove top, and dusted the entire house! What does it all mean? And why?

Well, my husband has been unemployed for almost two months now, he left his old job and had a bit of a well-deserved holiday, he hadn’t had one in three years except for our honeymoon. So in this period he has had several interviews, one has progressed really well, and we are at the stage where huge hints have been dropped, but there is no actual approval as to when he is going to get it. We were supposed to find out yesterday, but the guy in charge was away on business, then today but he has been in meetings, and now time wise it is too late for them to call us today. So we won’t find out till tomorrow.

I know this shouldn’t be a big deal but the potential new job could mean a move for us that would be quite significant, that might develop quite quickly, the idea of which is making every muscle in my body tightens up, including my date. (Too much information I know, but I am really trying to communicate just how stressed I am feeling by this whole situation of uncertainty). I am not stressed by the fact that we have to move, but by the fact that we ‘almost’ ‘maybe’ ‘might’ have to. I am one of those people who need to know either way. I don’t deal well with uncertainty.

Another thing I am not good at is patience. Whenever I have needed something, I have always just gone out and got it, and I have made it happen pretty quickly. But our current situation is something that I can’t rush and I can’t force. And that…that is what is shitting me! In my head I am thinking why don’t they just hurry up and call us already, and put us out of our misery! Maybe if they knew that I was feeling so uptight they might hurry the f*ck up! (Haa haa, I doubt it, very much).

So now that I have had my rant, removed every speck of dust from my home, and my stove is sparkling like an f-ing 3 carat diamond, I am finally feeling a little better. I have decided that in order to cope, I am not going to think about the job, the possible move, or anything to do with that situation, it’s not happening until it’s happening. So no body, I repeat NOBODY bring it up, and if I do, stop me…please…for the preservation of my sanity and the environment which I am fast filling up with disposable anti-static dusting cloths.

Of course this whole ignorance is bliss scenario will go down the toilet when we go for dinner tonight at the in-laws and they ask about the job. “Has he got it, has he not got it, when will you know, maybe he hasn’t, where will you live, what will you do with your job?” Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! Help!

Pink for Breast Cancer Awareness Month

I may yet find a better picture to put at the top left for this Pink month. But I thought it was important to mention that this month is Breat Cancer Awareness Month. That is also why some of the parts of my site are pink, mainly the text for now, as Blogger is a little inflexible with colour changes. :)

Have a look at these sites to see how you can contribute or raise awareness for Breast Cancer in your area;

National Breast Cancer Foundation

Pink Ribbon

Cheers
Bec

Bubble Wrap is the Bomb

This is the coolest! Must have more!!!!

Lotto hopes dashed…every other week

When the lotto prize reaches above about 9 million dollars, my husband HAS to buy a lotto ticket. After he has bought one, or I have bought one for him, he then sits down and proceeds to list all the things we can do when we win the lotto. Like first we will go on a holiday, then we will buy a house, a new car, take the family to China for the Olympics. All good stuff! The thing is that I have never really been into the lotto; my family aren’t big lotto ticket people. Hence I don’t really see the excitement in buying a piece of paper for 10-15 dollars and then hoping, that out of the millions of people who have also bought a ticket that we will win. Maybe I am a realist but I don’t really think that the chances of winning are that high, at all! But as he says, you have to be in it to win it!

After our discussion of all the cool stuff that we will buy, do and experience I must admit that I do get a bit excited. But I always have to pull myself back to reality and think hang on a sec, this is the lotto, the chances of winning anything are extremely low. After this discussion, I always feel like maybe our current lifestyle is not really good enough. L In reality it is! We are doing great for people in our early/mid twenties, we have minimal debt apart from our giant HECS debts, we own lots of shares, and we studied hard to get good jobs that we love doing, we are married and we are happy! What’s better than that? Well maybe a slightly higher salary would be nice, but we don’t really need to win lotto.

Last year I bought a lotto ticket for us and I won $40 (not much), but the next week I won $120. I caught the bug after that, but only for a week. I bought a ticket the week after that and then we won nothing. See I am happy to be committed to something as long as it is committed to me also! And Lotto YOU FAILED ME!

The only upside to buying a ticket for me is that at least I know I am contributing money to Lottery West. My hard earned Lotto ticket money is helping a lot of charities and community projects, which are funded by Lotto grants. Apart from the extremely distant possibility of winning, the fact that we are donating to a body that makes a difference in this community is the only reason I allow the hubby to keep buying them tickets.

Happy 100th Post!

Hello Peeps,

Happy 100th post! December last year I wrote my first post, and wondered whether it would be a good idea to even go down this path. But I have found this blog a huge release for frustrations, funny bits, questioning myself, and expelling some of my crazy into the world without creating irreparable damage.

So Happy 100th post and please enjoy the latest photos that I have posted on Flickr, preview on the right! See the rest here.

Cheers
Bec

Serial Email Forwarders

I don’t know if ‘Forwarders’ is even a word, and I don’t know if you can tell that this is going to be a rant, about people who only send forwards instead of putting thought into writing something of actual use!

It was over 8 years ago that I received my first forward, initially they were a bit of fun, but it did not take long for the novelty to wear off! When you first got internet or email you were so excited that you actually had an email whether it was a forward or not, though after a little while you came to realise that the people sending them couldn’t actually be bothered writing you a proper email. Instead they sent you an email full of someone else’s photos, poems, warm fuzzy’s etc. Like that is supposed to make you feel good?! (*hands currently making obscene gestures*)

I actually have people who only send me forwards, no normal emails. No “Hi, how are you going? This is what I have been up to…”, only forwards, I repeat, ONLY FORWARDS! Am I not worthy of an actual email containing the contents of their own heads? I think this is the major reason that I hate forwards, they are sent instead of actual intelligent conversation. Imagine if we spammed each other in person! It would be like someone asking you how your day was, and then you sprouting information about a completely unrelated topic about someone else, or something else, along with some pictures of a dog hugging a cat. What would be funny is if you used those crappy forward quizzes to actually find out more about people in person! Even with people that you already know! “Hi, I have known you for years but what is your favourite ice cream flavour, what was the name of your first pet, and like, what are your four favourite movies of all time?!”

Mmm, are you all dying from the saturation of sarcasm in this post?

See, the thing is, that I see forwards like junk mail now, I pick it up from my letterbox and I stick it directly into the recycling bin, it doesn’t even make it into the house. If I see any email with fw: in front of it, you can be sure that I will delete, delete, and delete. Because they are useless trash, especially the ones with funny photos that I have seen a million times, or came out about 3 years go. Often the initiators of the forwards will only catch on about three years after something has first graced the internet.

After all that ranting, if a forwarded email does make it through, and I do open it, if it is good, I will still not forward it. Unless it is really, really really good (does not happen often), then I will write a short introduction, delete all of the crappy previous addresses that the email has been forwarded to, and personalise the email for the select few I am forwarding to.

This brings me to Forwarding Etiquette. If you cannot resist that urge inside you to forward, here are some useful tips for making your habit less dangerous to others:

• Do not, I repeat, DO NOT forward crap forwards (this should bring you down to about the two worthy forward emails a year).

• Do not forward those crap quizzes. They are long, boring and no one has time to do them. If you really think that you need to know more about your friends/family, call them on the phone and ask them questions, it’s quicker and more fun.

• Do not just hit forward and leave 2000 lines of other people’s email addresses above the forward! Delete all but the essential information before you hit send. This way people will not have to scroll for ten minutes before they actually reach the forwarded contents, along the way being greeted by people’s “Haa Haa’s” and “Hee Hee’s‘.

• Edit the top of the forward to meet and greet the people that you are sending it to, so they at least feel slightly like they are worthy of your words.

• Do not select everyone in your address book and send the forward to them all. Believe me, your Grammy does not want to see the rude cartoons, and your macho hormonal brother does not want to see pictures of kittens.

• Do not forward emails with explicit content to people’s work emails, unless you want to get them fired.

Aaah, I feel better already, all prepped to move forward into my email ‘fw:’ free, though inevitably with a letterbox full of junk mail.

This make my ovaries turn

Dooce's Wednesday entry makes my ovaries turn over see it here.

Cheeseburger & Black Beetle Equals Eeewwww!

(Warning: if you are offended by people using the Lord's name in vain, do not read this post. Also if you don't like insects any where near cheeseburgers.)

Person A
Hey guess what?
I have the grossest story.
Trauma central!
I was at the gym Tuesday night, and I just changed into my exercise gear that I got off the line that morning. Anyway, all of a sudden, I feel this sting in my undies

Person B
Jesus!!

Person A
I rushed to the toilet and there was a HUGE black beetle biting me!
I freaked!

Person B
Holy sh*t!

Person A
Almost vomited

Person B
Was it in your hamburger???
LOL
You know what I mean by hamburger right??

Person A
Haa haa haa, you're funny, and yes!
I was traumatised!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Person B
Oh my god!!!!!

Person A
I got shivers, up my spine.

Person B
That’s horrible!! I would have died!!!!

Person A
It must have come in from off the line.

Person B
I had a bug in my hair near my forehead today and I freaked
Ooops its actually cheeseburger, care of dooce:

“Most Anticipated Moment of 2003: When the ultrasound technician pointed at the monitor and said, “See that cheeseburger? That means it’s a girl.”

“My husband’s most memorable quote of 2003: “You’re going to have to teach our daughter about her cheeseburger.”

Person A
Haa haa haa haa haa haa haa aha, cheeseburger, haa haa haa.

Person B
Lol, cause it looks like a cheeseburger!

Person A
Oh my god, man, beetles freak me out!
I couldn't believe it.
I get chills just thinking about it.

Person B
You are going to have a whole cheeseburger/beetle complex now.
That sh*t is scary!
I would have cried.

Person A
Yeah, I almost dry retched

Person B
Oh god, that’s horrible, you poor thing. You will be scarred for life.

Person A
Oh well.

Pike'in It Up

http://www.joshpyke.com/

Check this guy out, awesome tunes! The Middle of the Hill reminds me of when I was a kid, such a great collection of childhood memories, you can watch the video at this link. :)

Retraction

Just after my birthday I received a lovely birthday card, which I wrote about on this site. The card was from my Dad. In the card my Dad mentioned that I was entering into my 25th year. After I saw the 25, my initial reaction was to jump to the conclusion that he thought I was 25, after re-reading the card at a later date I realised that this wasn’t the case at all. Just that I was entering my 25th year, which actually is CORRECT!

Initially I didn’t bother writing a retraction about the 25 hoo haa, as no one in my family was reading my site. Until I foolishly thought that I could trust my 16 year old brothers. (*Note to Self: you love your brothers but they are not yet capable of keeping all of the secrets you might like them to) I just had a panicked call from my good ole Dad, saying that he was so sorry that I thought, that he thought that I was 25! He thought that I was offended because my Bro’s told him I had written about it on this site, which I had, but hadn’t corrected myself, until now.

So I stand corrected:
My Dad does not think I am 25
My brothers aren’t capable of keeping secrets just yet, but that is only natural for 16-year-old boys who get excited when they are telling stories!

And:
Many more people now know about my website than I had initially anticipated, but I suppose that I am comfortable with that. After all, one of the reasons I started writing was so that people would read, why else would you publish written works on the Internet!

Welcome to the era of the public blog, these are exciting times! Like Dooce and many who have come before me, I have managed to upset someone close to me, my good ole Dad, who is a fantastic card writer, Volvo driver and loving and concerned parent.

Sorry Dad, love you Dad and loved your card.

“I love you fart mouth”

Wife: I love you friend
Husband: Whoa, bad breath
Wife: Sorry
Husband: You ate eggs again didn’t you?
Wife: Yeh, for lunch, on toast.
Husband: When you eat eggs, and then breath on me its like you are farting in my face!
Wife: Mmm I love eggs.
Husband: Mmm I don’t like farts.
Wife: I love you friend
Husband: I love you fart mouth.

Spring is in the air, and my ovaries are alert!

I am sitting in a new café in South Perth, its sunny, and its spring. Finally! Spring is here! Yay! My ovaries are in over-drive as around me because all around me are pretty mummy’s and their baby’s/toddlers in the café, all taking their kids to the live play school show on a few blocks from here. D*mn you ovaries,! I am not ready for those urges. I am only 24! Though at 24 my mum has at least one child, possibly with the second on the way, aah the good old olden days, when getting married and popping out young-uns was the key to every woman’s success.

It will be 25 degrees today, sunny and perfect! Gotta love that time of the year when you can pop your washing out on the line and it’s dry in under an hour. Oh dear, did I just relate the beauty of spring to the fact that I can create maximum efficiency in my washing schedule?! I did…and one, two, three, I have turned into my mother. Although her ability to multi-task is something that everyone should aspire to.

So back to these spring ovarian motions. I always get freaked out when I see little kids, and I go oooh aaah. Because my brain is saying NOOOOO and my ovaries are saying YYEEESSS. What is it with this urge to procreate? It must be deeply imbedded in a woman’s psyche. I have heard rumours that a breastfeeding mothers actually get milk leakage from their br**sts when they see babies???!!!! Maybe I got that wrong, will have to Google it and confirm when I have more time.

I just wish I could switch the ovaries off for a while, till my brain has caught up with them. Its like looking at a car crash when I see little kids, you don’t want to look, but you can’t look away! You can’t stop yourself from looking at their little outfits, and their little shoes, and their little hands, little feet, big eyes. Oh Jesus, there I go again! Ovaries! Now you listen here! I am just not ready!

My Hermit Neighbour

We have been living in our little unit for close to two years now and most of our neighbours we know, or at least wave to. Two of them even gave us cards when we got married. There is one neighbour in particular however who is like a hermit or something. She lives directly next door to us and I have seen her ONCE (yes really!), reversing out her driveway about 15 months ago, and since then, nothing.

The only reason I used to know that she existed was that her car would sometimes not be in the driveway, and then sometimes it would. Then it dawned on me that she must be a shift worker who works odd hours and that was why we never saw her. Problem solvered I thought!

About 5 months ago around the time we got married, the garden began to look a little shabby, and her ugly metal roller shuttered windows were always closed, and the car, it stared to stay permanently in the carport. I also started to get paid visits by her rather shabby looking cat, who sleeps in my garden beds, and mopes around my garden. The poor thing look decidedly underfed, its fur is really matted, and it looks severely underweight. It is from about that time on that we have come to know her as our strange hermit neighbour.

I also noticed that the only visitor she seemed to get was a green Hyundai Excel on Friday evenings, and sometimes on the weekend. It turns up and a decidedly butch looking lady gets out of it, and waddles inside. Now my husband and I have bets on whether our hermit neighbour will get a visit from her l*sbian lover or not each weekend. Cruel I know, but we are cruel, heartless w*nkers so it fits.

More recently the garden has turned into a forest of waist high weeds, in fact some of them are probably higher than my head (which is not hard, considering I am almost the shortest person in the world). There are also weeds in the driveway, also waist high, growing from in between the bricks. They seem to have grown around the car also, the navy blue Holden Astra is almost enveloped by weeds. So I am guessing that she hasn’t actually left the house in say, 4-5 months.

We got a sign of life (not her life though) two days ago, when several of her friends came to her house, three cars to be exact and hauled some crap onto the lawn for the suburbs junk collection, happening next week. Gave us an insight into the inside of her hermit zone, a white wooden bed head with a gold antique strip, and a queen size mattress in hippy green. Wow, what does it all mean? Nothing I expect.

Mmm, its funny how curious we are as humans, all I want to know right now is what the heck is going on there? What’s with the metal roller shutters that block out all the light, the whole not coming outside thing, the whole not feeding your cat properly thing, not bringing your bins in after they are emptied, like ever???!!!

I have been tempted to go and knock on the door with some baked goods or something, to make sure that she is ok. But there is always that constant toss up, would she really want that, would she latch on to me afterwards, would that be so bad, would I be doing it only the satisfy my curiosity. It’s a tough one, and until I take that leap, she will continue to be my strange hermit neighbour.

Aaah Haa Haa Haa Haa

I want a puppy!

http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/09_12_2006.html

P.S I tried to make this an actual link for you but the New Beta Blogger version is for some reason having a hissy fit! It's one of those love/hate blogger days.

Fire fox – The not so new revolution

Now I know that Fire fox has been around for a while, well on internet time…ages! But I have only just caught on, and decided to install and power up Fire fox.

And…I love it. It is so much more user friendly than Safari, your regular web browser for Mac.

A few of my favourite functions:
Use of tabs instead of multiple windows
So easy to use, especially for morons like me
Importing of all of your bookmarks seamlessly
Cool extensions to the base Fire fox program that allow you to synchronize bookmarks between computers on your network, video down loader, Ad block filter, and the ever important Calorie King Toolbar, because what would life be like if you couldn’t search instantly for foods and decide whether you should ingest 50 million calories? Well it would be sh*t and guilt free, and we can’t be women without a large slab of guilt to make us feel feminine.

So I recommend putting the Internet Explorer, Netscape’s, Safari’s on the back burner and use Firefox instead!

P-Touched

P-Touched: A person who takes organization to such extremes that it comes off as a little mental.

Term from: http://mightygirl.com/2006/09/05/new-word/

No, she does not mean the P-Touch, that lovely little Brother label printer, though that item does assist the P-Touched person in organizing their lives to the point of being mental. I don’t have a P-Touch, I am a P-Toucher who uses a Dymo Letra Tag!

If you are P-Touched you are not alone, many of my girlfriends may also be P-Touched, I am probably worse than them, but perhaps not as bad as all of the women in my mother’s family! In fact my Grandmother may be the most P-Touched person that I have ever met, or even that exists on this earth. No offence Grammy, I aspire to your P-Touched-ness.

I really love this new term, I wonder if Mighty Girl has made this one up? If so, clever girl! I now have a new word to help me categorise my an*l-ness.

80’s Fashion…Tragic

“There is only one significant thing that I took away from the show, and that is how profoundly scared I am of the dramatic and tragic turn fashion has suddenly taken. From Kanye West's white tapered pants to Paris Hilton's black Grandpa ankle boots, fashion is trying to pull the 80's out of its very deep grave. I'd recently been to a local clothing store and noticed the skinny pants and leggings and cropped fishnet sweaters, and I had chosen not to believe that it was happening. But you can't ignore it when it is trotted out on a New York stage and flaunted as if it were perfectly okay (it isn't! it isn't okay!).”

Amen!

Next thing you know we will be surrounded by huge shoulder pads, huge hair, and huge piles of my vomit on the sidewalk after I am exposed to the horror that is bad 80’s fashion. Like Dooce, I have too seen the slow creep of bad 80’s fashion returning to clothing stores, TV, movies and music videos. I would personally like to know who decided that it was okay to turn back the clock to skinny jeans and slouchy boots! Because I would like to wack them over the head with their own slouchy boots, and remind them that there was a very good reason why all that fashion was donated to Good Sammy’s!

I remember looking back at photos of my Mum and my Aunties when I was a grung-ing teenager and thinking, what did they possibly think was ok about shoulder pads in a t-shirt, high-waisted stonewash jeans and white tapered pants?! My mum was also guilty of popping my hair in the telltale 80’s side pony tail! But maybe she did that so she could have easy access to yank on it when I was being a moody 8 year old. (I can’t actually remember my mum ever doing this to me, but if I were her I probably would have been tempted to. I was a moody kid who felt like I was missing out cause I only had 1 barbie doll, and all my friends had 300, more of my Barbie denied childhood later.)

My real worry is…how did men find women attractive in this period of time? They would have had huuuuuge hair, and huuuuuge everything else, bright makeup, manly shoulders…the list goes on. How was I even born in the 80’s? How did people have s*x in the 80’s with huge shoulder pads, skin tight leggings and skinny leg jeans blocking their access?

Please go to the below link, scroll and laugh, laugh, laugh. But remember it may not be long before we are faced with this horror very soon.
http://www.vintageblues.com/history8.htm

Paranoia

I think I have a problem with paranoia. What that means exactly I am not sure. All I know is that when I am alone at night I feel exposed, and I feel almost terrified. It’s not only if I am outside in the dark, even if I am locked in the house but in a different room from my husband. If I go to sleep before him, I keep the lamp on and I have to keep the door open, so I can hear him moving in the other room. I close all of the blinds at night so not to look up and see someone staring in at me, as if that would happen! But I do it anyway!

I don’t know why I get so scared. I have never been able to understand where this fear has come from.

Is it the warnings that my mother when I was a child that has made me so scared of strangers, and who/what is out there? Could it have been the scary movies that I watched when I was in my early teens? The ones where there was always someone hiding in a corner, behind a door, in the back of your car, outside the window, staring.

Could it have been those dreams that I had when I was a kid, when I would wake up screaming silent screams. When I woke up from those dreams my head would still be inside the dream, my voice wouldn’t work so I could never scream to my parents. My legs wouldn’t work either, it was like I was frozen and I was too scared to move, so I would just lay there alone in the darkness.

And that’s how I feel every time I am out and about at night, or even stepping out my front door, alone in the darkness, but I feel an expectation that something horrible might happen. I wish that I could let it go, it is so limiting, it stops me from enjoying myself in certain situations, or maybe it keeps me safe.

I wonder if it is a female ‘thing’ to feel so venerable in a situation that could potentially be dangerous. I wonder if all women feel this way to varying degrees? Maybe I will get over it one day, or feel more confident, or am I destined to end up like my Grandma, dragging her dressing table in front of her bedroom door when she is alone at night? Come to think about it, maybe I got it from her?

The Gardening Romance is Over

(Written on the 5th of Sept)

Before I begin, NO I have not killed any seedlings. But, YES, I am totally over watering them everyday. I just came in from watering those little sons of b*tches in the freezing cold wind, that has been blowing through this fine city all day today. As I type this, my hands are so numb that I can’t actually feel them touching the keys. My husband actually shrieked (very girly) when I touched him with my hands, I have never heard that sounds come out of him before, it was quite shocking, for the both of us.

I tell you what those little seedlings better appreciate all the pain and anguish I am going through to water them, weed around them (damn you clover weeds!), snail pellet them, remove dead snail bodies everyday.

Speaking of dead snail bodies, I have an aversion to mucus, its colours, it consistency, everything about it! This is creating a rather interesting site for people walking by as I try not to vomit on the grass when carefully extracting dead snails spurting with mucus from the garden beds. I am crouched down, in my Ugg boots (of course, they are the epitome of suburban, domestic, winter, gardening footwear), large gardening gloves on, plastic pot of dead snails to my right, bending forward plucking out the mucus snail body, cringing, trying not to touch the gooby bits, and then transferring it into the pot plant.

Our street gets a lot of traffic from evening walkers and their pets, so I am sure that they all look forward to seeing the woman crouching, cringing and trying not to choke on her own mucus.

The gardening romance is officially over!

Chuck has some competition...not! Hee Hee Hee

Poor little Mojo, you would think with that face there would be many skin folds to balance treats on.

http://www.bonniewren.com/2006/monday-morning-mojo-no-46-we-enter-the-video-age.htm

I want a puppy too. :(

Goodbye Mr Irwin

I can’t say that I was a big fan of Steve Irwin, I found him a little over the top, a bit cringe worthy and very, very annoying. However I do appreciate that he loved his life’s work with Australian animals, if you can get up every morning to do something you love, and get paid sh*te loads to do it, then good on you. Not many people in this world have that claim.

He did do some pretty insane things in his life, and was always living on the edge so maybe it was only a matter of time.

I felt sad today when I found out that he had passed, his wife now without a husband and his two lovely children, who will no never get to know their father further from this day. I am sure everyone has heard/read the stories about his death, so I won’t go into that, at least he was taken from this world doing what he loved.

Goodbye Mr Irwin, Rest in Peace.

9/11

On Thursday night I watched a program about the people who were forced to take their own lives and jump from the World Trade Centres. Even to this day my mind, my soul, body, every part of my being cannot seek to comprehend what happened on that day. I was at work on that evening, waitressing at a restaurant, when I heard from some friends who came for coffee. I think that we may have closed the restaurant early, but I can’t be sure, everything felt like a blur after I new.

I got home and got straight on the phone to my boyfriend, who is now my husband, we had been together for 5 months. I was crying, and I felt sick, my body was like jelly. He had seen the second plane hit the tower in real time, and he couldn’t explain how he felt when he saw it, only that he felt dread, pain, and horror. Like everyone I knew, like every face in the newspaper, like every family member trying to find their loved ones, everyone felt horror.

We were on the phone all night, we couldn’t sleep we just laid, 5 or so suburbs apart, each on our beds, eyes glued to the screen. I cannot imagine how those people felt in that building, I can not imagine how their friends and family felt, I cannot imagine how those people felt as they stood on the street, or the feeling that those people felt as they leapt or fell. All I know is what I felt, and that is horror, pain, intense emotion, and to this day goose bumps, a physical reaction to the intensity of that day.

The Coolest Dance in the World

If only people spent more time and energy doing this instead of participating in acts of hatred, violence and war, the world would be a much better place.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pv5zWaTEVkI

The Snail Massacre

After 17 months of being in our unit, we have finally got plants in our garden beds! We rent our unit from a family member, and I was so excited when they suggested that we go to the nursery and get some seedlings. I am a kinda on and off gardener, which actually does not match well with seedlings…but I am trying to train myself. The seedlings, I plan to let them help in the training. If they don’t succeed plan to hear me b**ching not about a snail massacre, but a seedling massacre. I can assure everyone that I have been watering everyday, and performing maintenance weeding, and I have even put out snail pellets.

Speaking of the snail pellets. I have never really been into using snail pellets or too many chemicals, snail pellets in large doses can hurt kitties and puppies. Especially the poor malnourished kitty (we’ll get into that on another day) who regularly sits in my mounds of mulch. My Dad assured me that the seedlings would not survive the wrath of the snail army, so I skittled a few of them lovely blue pellets around.

That was Sunday. On Wednesday I went outside to water and weed, and there was a Massacre! In all of the little water moats that surrounded my seedlings there were at least 5-6 little curled up snail bodies. I feel like a murderer. I was more upset about the dead snails than the idea of losing the seedlings. I still have not been able to look at the moats, and empty out the bodies, luckily today it rained like a b*atch so I didn’t have to go out there and water. Mmm maybe I should have a memorial service.

One Word: Heavenly

http://www.katemillerheidke.com/downloads.php

Check it out.

Cheers
Bec

In Response to MSN Heading: “Sometimes a girl just needs a pickle”

Person A
Ha Ha funny statement that, I can really relate to it.

Person B
Hee Hee yeah?!

Person A
I have pickle cravings! Sometimes I just need something pickled in my mouth.

Person A
On the way back from being out Saturday night, I really wanted a cheeseburger, mostly for the pickles but my husband wouldn't let me have one.

Person B
Yeah. Coz it has pickles in it! Ha Ha Ha!

Person B
Yeah!

Person A
I do the exact same things. Ha ha ha. My husband doesn't understand my pickle cravings...but he's starting to.

Person B
Hee hee, yeah I am hoping that mine will one day understand too. I used to eat them out of the jar all the time when I was a kid.

Person A
Yeah, I loved doing that also.

Person B
They are just so deliciously satisfying, and olives too.

Person A
Ooh olives, and pickles cucumber (the sweet and spiced ones)

Person B
Ooh yeah!! They are great!

Person A
HAHAH, this is hilarious. Well I got to go back to work now. But I just had to comment on your pickle thing, good to know there are more of us out there.

Person B
See you then.

Person A
Cya chica

(ten minutes later)

Person B
Oh god…

Person A
What?

Person B
I just polished off a 235 gram jar of stuffed green olives…was so good, but so bad.

Person A
Mmm, I need olives

Person B
Sorry none left.

My Dad thinks I am 25

I got birthday cards from various family members and friends on my birthday, I always love getting cards, especially when people write interesting messages, better than the usual “Happy Birthday, have a great day!” Yawn! Boring!

My Dad is particularly good at this, he always writes great things in our cards, and this year it was no different. Except that instead of saying 24 it said 25. Now either Dad is thinking that I was alive 9 months before I was born so I am almost 25 (if you count the months in the womb) or worse…he thinks I am 25!

I am ready for 24. I am just not ready for 25, that’s five years from 30! I am just not ready for that! My husband is 26, so he is already on the down wards slide towards 30, but he has dealt with it very well, well he hasn’t mentioned any concerns. When I get to closer to 25 then I probably will become more prepared for it, but I have only just prepared myself for the two teamed with the four.

Dad was sitting right next to me when I read the card, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he got my age wrong, seeing that he had put so much effort into the message. So I just closed it quickly before my husband could read the “25” and comment, and said “Oh Dad! That’s really great! Thanks!”

Aaah, the things we do to protect the people we love, by lying to them and protecting them from themselves.

I did eventually show my husband the card (after Dad left) and his response was “Oh Baby. He just thinks your 25 cause your old now.” Gee, thanks for the encouragement.

24 Yesterday

Some nice things I got for my birthday:
Orchids
Scones with Jam and Cream
Fresh Muffins
Coffee
Boiled Eggs on Toast
Monaaayyyy
Little Black Dress
Chocolate
Cards
Cake
Spagghi's Dinner

(Recurring theme: food)

See birthday pics here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/berecca1982/

Go the Fro

On Saturday night I went to an excellent Hens night. The theme was “Crazy Hair” and since I like to excel at everything, I decided that the only way to go, was to go, ‘The Fro’.

Boy, was it a good idea! The response from the surrounding patrons and guests on ‘The Fro’ was so positive I am actually thinking about wearing it out regularly. Everyone I walked past, and met automatically reacted positively. I lost count of all the “I love your Hair!”, comments. It was great! “The Fro” was a real conversation starter.

I must say that myself, and my good friend, were the only two really truly committed to the Crazy Hair Theme. She wore a Tina Turner wig, which was absolutely fabulous. It was even more fabulous when she sang Tina Turner at the Karaoke bar.

Aaah, wine, fro, corona, more fro, more wine, champagne, mango midori slushy’s, even more fro, Tina Turner Wig and karaoke. What more could you want in a good night out?

P.S You can see a picture of 'The Fro' and I here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/berecca1982/221035547/

Unfortunatley Blogger has decided to be a b*tch and not let me upload photos! Blogger and I have a love/hate relationship. It loves me, I love it only when it doesn't crash my web browser, all the other times, I hate it! It only seems to let me upload giant mushrooms. Of which I have more pictures of, as I bought another giant mushroom on Saturday. This one fed 6 people! Two of them teenage boys! That was one mutha of a mushroom!

Next holiday, we are totally going to Argentina

I thought that you all might like to share in the hilarity of Mighty Girl. This restaurant sounds hilarious, I would love to go there with all of my girlfriends, get pi*sed and giggle for hours on end.

http://mightygirl.com/2006/08/09/muppets-xxx/

Hardest working dog on the Internet

Haa haa haa, check this out;

http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/08_16_2006.html

Wife of an Un-employed Man

My husband is un-employed, what fun! No really, it’s not that bad, he finished his last job Friday last week, and he has 2 months of paid leave to find something new. With his experience and all round excellence I have no doubt that he will land something new asap!

In the mean time I must say that I am enjoying all of the pampering, the cleaning and the bacon and eggs for breakfast! After my daily dose of 1.5 hours of Yoga I come home to fresh juice, fresh coffee and eggs and bacon on toast, perhaps not as good for the waistline as the taste buds. I must admit that after a long day at work I love the fact that I can come home to my husband wearing an apron. It’s sexy! Though he hasn’t worn the apron naked yet (*frowning with disappointment).

It is strange though, to feel uncertainty about the future, it must be even scarier for my husband than it is for me. At least I know that I am earning money, he isn’t even sure that he will have that in the next few weeks, Thank God he never took a holiday in 3 years, otherwise right now, we would be absolutely stuffed, literally stuffed with unpaid bills (we would both have to sell ourselves on the street).

We had a very in depth discussion a few weeks ago and decided that when looking for a new job we weren’t going to limit him to Perth only, or even Australia only. Which is kind of scary, because it means that potentially within 2 months we could be anywhere in the world! I know that sounds very exciting, but the downer for me is that my husband would jet set off to set up our new home, and I would be stuck here for several months working and packing up all of our crap, of which we have much!

Today I worked from home, which I often do (as a self employed designer) and my husband was at home as well (being un-employed!). I must admit, the breakfast was great but after that I wanted him to leave! He kept running in and out of the room hugging me, and I was trying to concentrate on an annual report, a brochure and a corporate identity! It was like he wanted me to be un-employed with him, but little did he know, that someone around here has to do some work! Ok, now I am just being mean. It was nice to have someone make me an afternoon Milo, and a shoulder massage when I reached my 3pm low, and msn me from the study and tell me I’m pretty, even after I have been whining Ben Harper and Tori Amos tunes all afternoon.

Foot/Butt Update

"This pose is going to be challenging for many of you, it really opens up the hip joint here (points to spot on hip), effectively what you are doing is digging your heel into your anus."

- Yoga Instructor

The day my Yoga instructor taught me to put my foot up my ar*e.

Last Monday I started an intensive 2 weeks Yoga course to get myself back into the swing of Yoga, after being a gym junkie for the past year. On the first day I almost fainted in class, and felt extremely ill, though that could have been to do with the period attack I was experiencing. After the near fainting Yoga has been fine, and my body is beginning to feel alive again.

Yoga has the amazing ability to awaken muscles that you didn’t even know existed and put you into positions that you never thought you could be in. A fine example of this arose yesterday, when our Yoga instructor taught us to sit on our own foot, effectively forcing our heel into our a-holes. It was an interesting experience, and one that I got to try again today. I thought that perhaps I would be more comfortable the second time round, but I wasn’t. It appears that I have no way near enough padding in that lower region, which means that my sitting bones dig into my ankle and my foot dogs into my ar*ehole.

I must say, I am not really looking forward to that pose tomorrow.

Another interesting point (poise yourself for a rant), the instructor actually told me that I was lazy (maybe he said it is jest, I don’t know) for not contorting my body enough in order to link arms around my elastic band of a spine! I almost blurted out, “If I was lazy I would be in bed eating pizza and watching Sunrise, instead of the last week and a half of being here every week day, for an hour and a half sticking my foot up my ar*e!”

My body is rejecting my skin!

A couple of months ago I came up in a rash and skin dryness and loss, in my armpits. I got a cream from a crazy eastern European GP and it all went away, or so I thought! The rash did go away, but as soon as I stopped using the cream it came back, and then the other day I looked down at my poor old belly button and inside my belly button was the same rash! So I have started using the cream there too.

Today, my head was decidedly itchy, I had just washed my hair this morning so it was definitely clean. As I was scratching I saw these little snow flake pieces falling from my head! Could it be…NO! Not dandruff!!! F**k no!!! I have never had dandruff, my whole life! I don’t want to use those stinky poo anti-dandruff shampoos! I am quite happy using my lovely brunette enhancing shampoo that smell like lollies! This sucks!

I blame:
a) My Dad, he has dandruff it must be some weird hereditary thing that only starts when you are about to turn 24.
b) My husband, he has had dandruff all his adult life and has infected me with his dandruff disease when he shared his pillow…comb…towel…life!
c) The fancy new John Jardine shampoo that smells like lollies, that I have been using for the past few months. Good one! You have just lost a perfectly happy customer to Stinky Dandruff Pinetarsol Shampoos!!

So my body has decided to boycott my skin, “I have had enough of you skin” it says.
Am I being punished for over moisturising?

Hang on a tic…all of this started after I got married, that’s it! I am allergic to marriage…”Sorry baby, we have to go back to our de facto lifestyle, my body is physically rejecting our marriage” I wonder if anyone has tried that line before?

Well, if anyone has some good suggestions for me to keep the skin on my body, they would be much appreciated, as I don’t think skin falling off is going to pass as a good reason for an annulment. So far I have washed my hair with a bright blue shampoo with the consistency of Jiff, and Tea tree oil shampoo, neither are really working.

Tear Jerker…

If you are at work, and you are not wearing waterproof mascara, boycott this till you get home…don’t say I didn’t warn you.

My Dad was right when he said “It is the end of an Era”. On Monday night I cried myself to sleep, on Tuesday morning my Dad did everything he could do to put off what we had to do at 9am. So much that he was 15 minutes late to the vet.

On Tuesday morning we had to put down our beautiful Shadow. I have not been able to write about it till now, as I would have been bawling before now, right now I am teary. We had Shadow for half of my life, since I was 12 years old, I am turning 24 on the 22nd of this month. So he has been a part of our lives for almost 12 years. He has made our lives so rich, so fulfilling, and best of all he taught all of us kids to care deeply for another being. He was our brother.

When we went to choose our new puppy 12 years ago, there was this chubby little fluff ball at the bottom of the pile, just trying to get to us, but all the other puppies were climbing on him. I lifted him out of the pile, and gave him a huge cuddle, and the first thing he did was licked me square in the mouth. It was gross…but funny.

Our Dad bought Shadow for us as a joint present for Christmas, about 9 months after our parents decided to separate, it was a tough period for the four of us kids, and Shadow, he was the light of our lives.

When he was little he used to sleep on my bed (he wasn’t supposed to, he was meant to be on the floor, but how can you say no to a fluff ball? Huh? Huh?). He would sleep dead in the middle and push me out to the edges of the bed, at the time it was annoying, now it’s a great memory.

He was such a character. I would lay on the timber veranda when I was a kid, and just look at his face, and talk to him about how I was feeling, and how I was so sick of my parents behaving younger than me (I was 14). I know it sounds silly, but it felt like when I was fourteen, angry, wearing army pants and big black boots, that he was the only one who understood me (Shadow and the Smashing Pumpkins of course).

He sat by my feet when I was 22, and writing my honours thesis for hours and hours on end. He kept my feet warmer than any pair of ugg boots. He made me giggle. Even when I moved out of home, it felt like he was always there for me, and whenever I went over to Dad’s, there he was sitting on the park bench on the veranda, waiting for me. (If you can’t guess, I am bawling my eyes out right now, if you aren’t you are an icicle!)

So, Tuesday, it was the end of an era. Now it feels like there is a void, and I know it will be the same for each of my brothers, and for my Dad, who has cared for him so lovingly over these past few months, when Shadow has been operated on to remove his cancer, and lived through the pain of it growing back, and gradually taking over his body.

Putting Shadow down, was one of the hardest decisions that we had to make, harder than writing an honours thesis, harder than travelling overseas alone, harder than having your heart broken by a boy. I know that we did the best thing for him, and I know that wherever he is he will be missing us just as much.

Shadow…we love you.

McConaughey

Matthew McConaughey is so cute, that's all I am saying ... oki one more thing, his characters are not so smart, but they are cute...so very cute...

P.S I love my Husband

Taco Town You Saved Me from Boring Taco Hell

http://www.blurbomat.com/archives/2006/07/27/solo

Go here and watch the Taco Town goodness...gosh those yanks are funny buggers. :)

Parked in a puddle, which is more like a lake…

This morning it was pi**ing down here in Freo, so when I saw a lovely parking spot closer than the regular other side of the universe spots, I got very, very excited! If you have ever parked at the E-shed in Fremantle after Notre Dame students have invaded you will understand why. I reversed about 20 metres back to the spot, and then saw the giant puddle that encompassed about 3/4’s of it. Going in forward would have meant getting out and standing ankle deep in reverse drain material and water. So I backed in, but still managed to stand in material/water that covered 3cm on my boots, high enough to start seeping in the cracks (don’t tell anyone they were the leather boots I bought in Florence).

Now, many may think this was a stupid idea, to park in a giant puddle. But what do you do when you are faced with having to walk 500-600 metres less or get slightly damp feet? It was a tough decision, and despite my now, freezing cold feet, the likelihood that I will now get a cold, and that my husband will have no sympathy as I brought it on myself, well… I think it was definitely worth it. I only wish I had my camera so I could show you just how f-ing big the puddle was, I looked quite attractive tip-toeing really quickly through it like I was Jesus trying to walk on water.

Huge Shroom

I know your thinking, who gives a Sh*t its just a mushroom! But look how huge this bugger is!!!






And below the mushroom it made when chopped, enought for a dinner for 4!

Crusty, Old, Creepy

I work in a crusty old building in Fremantle, an area of Perth well known for its lovely old buildings. It’s one of the last places in Perth where development has not completely destroyed old architecture. I love old buildings, I have always lived in old houses, and I am used to their various funny mishaps and personality disorders.

This old building is really gorgeous with heaps of character, but also a little bit of weirdness. Apparently there was a guy pushed down the spiral stairs at the back of the building near the kitchen, and I always feel kind of freaked when I go down there. Even before anyone told me that it always felt strange walking down the corridor the that end of the building. Now I haven’t ever really believed in ghosts or spirits, but it is weird how strange a feeling you get down there. I once peered over the edge of the stairs and looked down at the spiral and I felt a weird cold sensation.

There is also this random room at the back of the building now that apparently has been rented out to some group therapy people, except there is never anyone here when I am, and the door is always ajar, and there I nothing in this 9x9 metre room except two chairs right in the middle facing each other, its creepy! The door blows open and closed all the time even though there is no breeze, could be the air pressure I suppose…anyway it’s creepy.

I love this building and I never feel unsafe here, but I always get such a weird vibe when I go down the back of the building, which is essential as the kitchen holds the ingredient to my coffee addiction.

I’ll post some photos in the next few days of the creepiness for you…

Not a weirdo…

This evening I stood in my lounge room for 10 minutes and stretched my arms up really really high…and around and around. It felt good, you know…to just have that moment, to swim in that moment and enjoy the stretch, and the release.

P.S No…I am not a weirdo, sometimes you just need to stretch, try it sometime.

The Perfect Morning in the New Andrews Household

Coffee
Juice
Fruit Platter
Soy and Linseed Toast
Ugg boots
The Weekend Australian
…and some great conversation (Zero 7 in the background)

This morning has been a dream!

P.S Today we have been married for three months…it’s heaven.

Hello All…

Please have a read of Mazen Kerbaj’s blog and official site.

He is a guy living in Beirut, Lebanon. He records his feeling and most recent artworks on his blog site:
http://mazenkerblog.blogspot.com/

He also has a site where he posts his recorded sounds and artworks.
http://www.kerbaj.com/

Mazen has chosen to remain in Beirut in the current environment of war and destruction, he has sent his ex wife and his son to Paris, other members of his family are still elsewhere in Beirut and Lebanon. His drawings are haunting, real, and confronting.

Enjoy and relfect…

I need to peeeeeeeeeeee

Tuesday was my first day back at work after a lovely long weekend with my girlfriends down south. So it was a bit of a struggle emotionally and physically. I had a bit to get through, but some work fell through and so on top of feeling tired, I also felt dejected. I got through the small amount of work required, and then things heated up, I had a briefing with one of my freelance providers and then headed of to have another briefing for more work with another design business. My day was looking up, the only problem that I had to traipse over to suburban hell-hole that I like to call the North Side of Perth! There is an ingrained sense of rivalry between the northern and southern suburbs of Perth, and being a southerner I could never live north of the river, and consequently dislike going there unless it involves a trip to the physio, Café 130, or to get a design job. You could say that I am a South Side Snob, and…you would be right! But it’s cool, at least I can admit it.

I managed the trip to the North Side quite well and landed in my destination right on time! The briefing was excellent, I got a heap more jobs, and I left happy and feeling upbeat. That was until I left the meeting place and realised that I needed fuel and that I had the sudden urge to pee. “It’s alright” I told myself, we are on a main road here, there will be a petrol station not far away and they will have a loo there. So I drove, and I drove, and I drove and I drove (I could keep saying that forever but it would still not encompass the amount that I drove), but still no petrol station. So I turned off into another road, which seemed bigger and more promising, and after about five minutes I came across a Woolies petrol station! Fantastic Fuel and Loo! Or so I thought…

So I filled up the car, and even bounced with excitement as I realised I could use my Woolies voucher to reduce my petrol price! See you Northerner’s have stolen all of the Woolies Petrol stations for yourselves, as I am pretty sure I have seen all of ONE of these South of the River! So I am filled with petrol, and urine, time to dispense of the second.

“Um, hey do you have a loo here?”
“No, sorry, we don’t”
“Riggghhhhttt, so how do you guys pee then?”
“Oh we go to that shopping centre over there, (pointing towards a speck in the distance) or that pub over there, (points in the other direction to a speck in the distance)”
“Ok, cool I will just pop over to one of those then. Great thanks for that”
“Oh hang on, it’s too late the shopping centre is closed”
“That’s cool, I’ll go to the pub”
“Oh and the pub’s not open yet.”
“Riiiggghhhttt! So how do you guys pee then?”
“We either wait for the pub to open or just pee round the back”
“Well I can’t really wait because you see;
(a) I have to pick up my husband from work in Applecross in like five minutes
(b) My bladder may burst any second (by this time am jiggling uncontrollably)
(c) I am a girl and the idea of having to squat in public, in suburbia, is not really appealing to me”
“Well, sorry”
(The poor guy is thinking by now, “get this psycho peeing b*tch out of here”.)
“That’s ok…not your fault. But you might want to approach your boss about putting some flipping toilets in”

You northerners have all the f-ing Woolies Petrol Stations and no f-ing public toilets! What is wrong with you people! We southerners just wouldn’t put up with a NO public toilet fiasco like that!

Faced with a near exploding bladder and a jiggling disorder that looked somewhat familiar to Parkinson’s (apologies in advance to all of those who are suffering from Parkinson’s, it is a horrible disease and I am a total b*tch for comparing it to me incessant need to pee) I bundle into the car and absolutely floor it down the road. I am right now supposed to be picking up my husband, and I am still 25 minutes away, in North Side Ar*e Crack no-where and I still need to pee. Deciding that I have the strength and will of a highly trained martial arts-man I zoom onto the Freeway and spend 25 minutes jiggling in my seat and driving through the Freeway traffic at a snails pace. Whilst trying to disguise my jiggling from other drivers, who by this stage have started wondering why this psycho is jiggling and swearing in her car next to them, and who have all have tripped their central locking in case she decides to jump ship into their car and murder them. I may not have murdered them, but if they had a loo I definitely would have bribed them with dried banana chips so that I could relieve myself asap!

By the time I get to my husbands work I am dying. Literally, I may have keeled over where I was standing, dead in a pool of pee. I called him from the front step of his office, begging him to buzz the door so I can run upstairs to the loo. He does so, or so he thinks, because the door won’t open! I am jiggling and thinking THE DOOR WON’T OPEN, THE DOOR WON’T OPEN! OH MY GOD, IT’S COMING, I CAN’T HOLD IT!!!!!!

I won’t share the rest of the details but I made it to the toilet, just, after almost bursting for over an hour. Let me tell you that I felt like I had reached Nirvana as I walked out of that restroom, life could not have been better. Lesson learnt here is, all you southerners out there, next time you decide to travel to the northern suburbs make sure you pack a toilet roll, and a trailer carrying your own porta potty. DO NOT expect that you will be able to find a toilet in a hurry!

Haa Haa Spam

Today I got yet another dodgy spam email in my hotmail inbox, which was from Hubby Can’t, with the subject line “Satisfy me anymore”.

Well honey if he can’t there is no way I can! I am a woman! Didn’t the female name in my email address give that away?

I have gotten some real corkers, but I am too afraid to post them here in case Blogger cuts me off again, like they did with my le**ian commentary. J

Stay tuned in the next few days for a little story about my awesome weekend away with meee ladies. I will write it when I have some brain power to devote to it!

priceless

A great joke that my mother in law sent over to me a while ago. You may have already read it, but if not enjoy. :)


Jack wakes up with a huge hangover the night after a business function.

He forces himself to open his eyes and the first thing he sees is a couple of aspirins next to a glass of water on the side table. And, next to them, a single red rose!

Jack sits up in bed and sees his clothing in front of him, all clean and pressed.

Jack looks around the room and sees that it is in perfect order, spotlessly clean. So is the rest of the house. He takes the aspirins, cringes when he sees a huge black eye staring back at him in the bathroom mirror and notices a note on the table:
"Honey, breakfast is on the stove, I left early to go shopping - Love you!!"

He stumbles to the kitchen and sure enough, there is hot breakfast and the morning newspaper. His son is also at the table, eating. Jack asks, "Son...what happened last night?"

"Well, you came home after 3 am, drunk and out of your mind. You broke the coffee table, puked in the hallway and got that black eye when you ran into the door."

So, why is everything in such perfect order, so clean, I have a rose and breakfast is on the table waiting for me?"

His son replies, "Oh, THAT!...Mom dragged you to the bedroom and when she tried to take your pants off, you screamed, "Leave me alone, bitch, I'm married!!!".

Broken table - $200
Hot breakfast - $5
Red Rose bud - $3
Two aspirins - $0.25
Saying the right thing, at the right time... PRICELESS!

Bidding Farewell

Wife:
Seeya Bebe
I love you

Husband:
bye
have fun
NO BOYS!

Wife:
I will you too !
Haa Haa
I don’t want any other boys but you

Husband:
If I even suspect there are boys I’m having a h**ker party

Wife:
LOL, ok. It’s a deal

Husband:
Nice!
BRB, arranging hookers

Wife:
I don’t have any boys planned so no h**kers for you!!!!!

Husband:
Aww man

Wife:
love you..... bbbyyyyyeeee

Husband:
bye

Creative Stinky Pies

A night time conversation between Husband and Wife when they are in bed.

Husband:
How was your day?

Wife:
Fantastic, my conference was great, but I broke the coffee percolator jug.

Husband:
Oh no!

Wife:
Yeah, I know. I almost cried.

Husband:
Oh well, no more yummy coffee for us.

Wife:
Hang on a tic! I can use the jug from the old broken percolator?!

Husband:
Good Idea!

Wife:
I am a Creative Thinker.

Husband:
You are also a Creative Stinker!

Wife:
Thanks

Husband:
I really like what you have done with our bed while I was out! It’s so much more…how do you say Creative Stinky!

Wife:
Haa haa that rhymes with Design is Kinky!
Thanks, it was these little pies I had at my conference.

Husband:
Creative Stinky Pies

Flickr Album

I have recently signed up for a Flickr Album, so far there are only a few wedding shots on there, but the collection will grow. Have a look here at : http://www.flickr.com/photos/berecca1982/

The Trip of a Lifetime

Yesterday my brother and his girlfriend left for a 4 month trip around Europe! They are so excited and it was great to see them off at the airport the same way the family saw me off around 6 years ago, when I went overseas on my own 4-month trip. They are so much more organized than I was, I was a bit of a hippy with an old manual camera, a pair of well worn jeans, my supermarket food, and my lack of spending money. Alternatively they have heaps of savings, a brand new savvy camera, new luggage and a more extensive tour. Although I am sure that we will both have had by the end a fantastic, eye-opening trip.

Nothing can prepare you for a trip like this, you can never attempt to create in your mind a vision of what it will look like. Because when you get there you realise that there is a whole new word out there that you never could picture here in Perth. Europe is amazing, it’s huge, and it is full of absolute excitement and wonder for anyone who comes from this modest little city of Perth. We live in such isolation in this city, not at all like the eastern states of Australia, where you drive for a few hours you can be in a different city, here you have to drive for 3 days non-stop to get to another city! In Europe if you drove for 3 days non-stop you could visit several countries!

The best thing about being from somewhere so isolated and visiting such a densely populate area of the world, is that you find everything amazing and new. The age and the beauty of the culture, architecture and people are mind boggling. I saw Viking huts that were thousands of years old in Denmark, churches which have lived through the Reformation in Belguim, city’s that have been completely destroyed in World Wars in The Netherlands, and walls that the Romans built, the list goes on and on.

Mmm, I am so jealous…it makes me want to embark on another journey overseas, but then I realise that I have just embarked on a new journey here. My own business and new marriage! These are exciting time for us all! No matter what journey we are travelling on, overseas or in our modest little cities. J

To DO is to BE, or to BE is to DO?

Do you ever feel like you never get to spend quality time with your partner, or your family, or even your friends? Do you ever feel like even though you make time for people you are not even really in the moment as you are just thinking about all of the other meaningless cr*p that you have to do later, or tomorrow, or next week, or that major thing next year that requires planning?

I feel like I am a ship passing in the night past my husband at the moment, we rarely get to spend quality time together. I can’t remember the last time that we spent the whole day together, just being together, eating breakfast together, going for a walk together, just laying on the couch for hours together, not since our honeymoon probably. It is so depressing that we lives our lives so caught up in DOING instead of just BEING!

As young “successful” people we are always pushed to have the best job, the best home, the best cooking, the best relationship, the best social lives, the best at hoarding loot or killing enemies in a computer game. We even feel pressured to be readers, writers, artists, perfect daughters and sons, brothers and sister. We feel the need to help everyone around us, to solve everyone’s problems, to encourage everyone around us and try to keep ourselves motivated at the same time. These are all great things, which are all a lot of fun and some even rewarding. But when you look back and see all of the time that you spent DOING all of these things, ignoring the people close to you and not just BEING in the moment when all of these precious moments were taking place, all of them seem meaningless.

The hardest part is when you have this realisation but you can’t seem to slow yourself down, and you can’t seem to get others to see it as a problem and slow down too. Would we all be happier, less stressed, healthier, more functional as human beings? I know that I would be all of these things if I could just learn to shut down the very dominant side of me that can’t help but DO DO DO all the time.

What if I could just BE for a day…what would that be like?

P.S I know the title doesn't make sense...but I just like to play with your minds!!

“Oh dat is nooo gud”

My body has been in protest mode for a few weeks now, putting up several barricades in my way as I struggle to maintain my normal routines. I got a strange rash on my under-arms. Initially I thought that this might just be due to the fact that we have had our heater on on-stop, then I thought that perhaps I had changed a moisturiser or a deodorant etc, but it was none of these things. Though, I was convinced it was the dry skin thing for about 4 weeks, so for the last month I have been suffering in silence with my Sorbolene, Aveeno Cream and Paw Paw Ointment (not made on puppy paws but the fruit).

My parents always said to me when I was a kid and hurt myself, “Just slap some paw paw ointment on it!”. As kids we (my brothers and I) had paw paw for nappy rash, grazes, dryness, cuts, lip balm, every possible ailment on our exterior shells. So I have continues the tradition of spreading the word that paw paw ointment was the secret behind Jesus’ miracle healing. I do actually say it like this when I am preaching about the paw paw, just ask my friends, because paw paw ointment was invented by God himself didn’t you know that?! People were losing faith so he invented the paw paw ointment and then sent Jesus down to earth to apply it to every man, woman and child! Some say this is why he was able to walk on water, as the paw paw ointment created a strong oily seal between his feet and the water and he just glided along its surface! Seriously!

Back to the rash. My miracle ointment did not perform its duty, and I stopped believing in God! Once I got over the fact that my faith had been forsaken in the paw paw, I finally resided myself to the fact that I may have to go to the doctor and get it checked out. I went to the local doctors surgery and saw this funny little (I think Polish) man who was very kind and cheery, a little like santa. He said “Oh dat is nooo gud, we must get some steroid ointmunt onto dat! Dat looks like a fungal infecton to me, or perhaps an allergic reacton!” So he hooked me up with some steroid cream, and we decided to do a run of tests for general health while we were there, cause I just LOVE giant blood testing needles!

I actually managed to look over at the needle in my arm about half way through the test and watched the blood sucking out into the little tube. Which is quite an achievement for me considering last time I had a needle I passed out. On Thursday I go back to se Dr Hzrghlocski (not his real name, but I imagine you would pronounce it something like this), to get my test results, though I must keep using the steroid cream on the fungi/irritation until 7 days after symptoms have disappeared.

I had an interesting thought this morning whilst putting on the steroid cream, does this mean that due to increased steroids near my mammary’s that they will grow larger? Perhaps it’s wishful thinking.

Miss USA 2006-07-02

I am sitting on the couch on a Sunday afternoon (when I really should be working) watching the Miss USA competition. I must admit I love looking at gorgeous women, and judging them of course! Mmm a little evil you might think, but in reality that is exactly what this competition is about. These women are preening and training so that they can be judged over and over again.

Now sometimes looking at these gorgeous specimens can make us normal women feel horrible about ourselves, and our looks. But in reality these women employ a team of people to help them look like this, so it is unrealistic for us to compare ourselves with them. I actually love watching programmes like this it makes you realise that there are so many gorgeous women in the world, even though some of them have been preened beyond recognition.

I know your probably thinking that looks aren’t the be all and end all and I completely agree with you. Exterior beauty is only an element of what makes a woman gorgeous, inner beauty definitely shows through in a woman’s actions and her smile, in the end it’s definitely the things I have done and the decisions that I have made in my life that have made me who I am, and made me feel successful. So I suppose that is why I love watching programmes like this, trying to catch the inner beauty of these girls and trying to figure out if there is more underneath that exterior shell.

A lot of people I know suggest that competitions like this are a load of bolder dash. To a certain extent I think that they do have a negative effect on young women, all women. But on the other hand it is possible to take away positive things from a competition like this. We can feel assured that although these women are amazingly gorgeous, this doesn’t have to make us ladies feel bad about our looks. It can make us feel better about ourselves, that we are all gorgeous in our own way. That we manage to look, feel and do great things everyday whilst holding down jobs, studying, running business’, looking after our families and our partners, and being great friends to the other fabulous women around us. See we are all fabulous and gorgeous.

Maxtor My Baby

Yesterday my husband told me over msn that he had found the ultimate, the best, the most wicked external hard drive for me. He gave me all the details, I packed up my office gear so quick it was like I was Superwoman, and bunged myself into the car and off to Osborne Park. See, I get really excited when I can actually go and spend money, as these days we don’t really spend money on many things except bills and food (so basically nothing fun!). Except that after buying the hard drive I drove past Ikea and saw that they were having a sale and had to dart in for some storage bargains (that was fun!).

For anyone who knows me well, they will know that I am the organisation queen, the clean queen, essentially the “I am totally Anal” Queen (and that is totally non-sexual before anyone gets any ideas). When I see storage on sale I wet my pants with excitement! One of my girl friends called me two weeks ago from a new storage shop that she had discovered in Subiaco because she just had to let me know that she had found more of my storage crack and all was not lost. I didn’t want to admit it but when she called I got so excited that I peed a little.

So $82 dollars later, I had many different storage solutions for our house that I am looking forward to implementing room by room over the next few weeks. I found some $1.95 storage boxes and I couldn’t stop myself from filling half of my trolley with them. I was like a crazed Italian housewife in Woolies when she sees that the tinned tomatoes are on sale, just think of the opportunity for making bulk loads of Spaghetti Bog!! (Hang on a tic…that is totally something I would do)

So back to Maxtor My Baby! I am also anal with my backing up of files (oh boy, that sounded dodgy, keep it clean people). I have set up a backup of my entire laptop hard drive, so that if it has a hissy fit they can reboot from Maxtor My Baby! How awesome is that!

Happy 1st Day Birthday Maxtor My Baby!

P.S Happy New Financial Year (for tomorrow)

Bhuja Crisps

Last night when my husband and I arrived home there was a large box at our front door step, which turned out to be a belated wedding present from a group of people that he used to work with. We opened the box with excitement to find a truckload of goodies inside! Delicious snacks, oils, marmalades, coffee, beer, chocolates and many more yummy treats, all gourmet of course!

Our little eyes lit up with joy (mainly due to the fact that we were both starving and the exciting prospect of gorging ourselves on these gourmet snacks as opposed to having to cook dinner was on our minds). As we were fossicking through, I came across some funny crispy like biscuits, that kind of look like those little dried Japanese crackers, and they were called…wait for it…Bhuja Crisps! Now I know you are thinking “Whatever! They are just crisps!” But if you pronounce the crisps the way I like to pronounce them you get Boooyhaaa Crisps! Which in our ravenous state we found absolutely hilarious, so much so that we took photos of the Boooyhaaa Crisps, to preserve their memory of course!

Now you are thinking “Oh dear, you sad sad panda’s”, but look we are married, ok, this is like the most exciting thing that has happened to us all week! Haa haa, only kidding hon.

The Wedding Album

On the weekend my husband and I went to see our wedding photographer. It was amazing, his photos were beautiful, every single one of them. We spent four hours there, designing the album, whichwe have had to make much longer than originally intended. Which is going to cost us an absolute fortune! Literally, a fortune!

If we chop out some of the photos we risk losing a part of the story, which is how we have tried to put together the album, it captures moments in time throughout the story of our day. There is the toss-up of; do we spent the money and treasure these memories properly; or do we cut it down to save money and not really be happy with the final outcome?

We decided that you can’t put a price on memories. This was a really significant day for us and we want to be able to show our children how magical a day it was for us, and not forget those special moments that we had with each other and all of those that celebrated it with us.

Aaah love, marriage, money …memories. I loved our wedding day; I will always remember it with a smile on my face and warmth in my heart. I love you hubberoona.

Internet Drug / Eye Twitch

Have you ever had one of those moments where you think you might just burst into tears, in the middle of the office (or anywhere for that matter)? When you try to think positively, thinking, things cannot possibly get worse than this…and then they do?! Yesterday and this morning has been a huge collection of those moments!

I have gotten a lot better over the last few months in fixing technical computer mishaps, I have begun to understand a lot more about the processes involved, particularly when it comes to the setting up of airport networks, email accounts etc. (I know you are thinking “So what! I can build an f-ing computer”, but for me this new found knowledge has been a huge achievement). So on Tuesday the airport in my office chucked a sad, meaning that I could not access the Internet (something which I am addicted too, for both personal and professional reasons). I was too confused and tired on Tuesday to fix it, so yesterday I began the (so-called) easy task of following instructions and fixing the airport network. After trying every possible rule and solution to fix it I thought, “It’s ok, I’ll just wait till the owner of the airport comes in, she set it up, and her computer may be the one that needs to be used in order to fix these issues” (I sound calm enough here, but my eye had begun to twitch).

So the owner and I spent the next four hours or so going through the motions and trying to work out what the f**k was wrong with the d*mn airport. After this amount of time both of us had incessantly twitching eyes, and we looked at each other in bewilderment…and gave up. I went home and continued working from there, and when that Internet connected first time, by golly I felt like an addict after not being able to shoot up for several days (not that I know what that feels like, I am a good girl remember)

This morning I came into the office dismissing the fact that the airport even existed and plugged myself via Ethernet into a colleagues’ blessed router! Aaahh, that rush again, as the Internet started up and I got my daily fix of Dooce goodness. I am so excited about this automatic win with the Internet connection that I madly begin catching up on some emails, but they won’t send! I can receive, but I CAN’T SEND! (i.e. Sex and the City “She can reach me! But I can never reach her!) Then I realise, you silly girl, you have to enter all of the account details in the email in order to access it. So we did that and it didn’t work, we did all the right things and it didn’t work, we did EVERYTHING and it didn’t work. So I consulted my regular Nerdy types and they assisted me in a very efficient and helpful manner, and it STILL DIDN’T WORK!

By this time my eye is twitching so much that it may have fallen out, my eyes were welling up and I thought that I might never be able to send an email from my office again!

Then my colleague (a.k.a. genius of the email software) returned from his meeting and said, “Just delete that new email account you created and make a new one, that one has probably corrupted”…and…IT WORKED! Another Internet (not drug) induced rush!

I AM BACK! EMIAL AND INTERNET RETURNED! EYE TWITCHING, NO MORE!

msn 21.06.06

(A)
raah
almost had no work done today as the airport in freo in f**ked!!!
will have to work tonight to make up for it
am at home now
see you at 5:30pm

(B)
i thought u were trying to scare me

(A)
i was, did u jump??

(B)
it worked, i peed a little

(A)
lol, you got spare undies at work??

(B)
no i smell like pee now

(A)
eewwwwww
u want me to bring you some?? (lol)

(B)
nah, i am getting used to the smell

(A)
what about the boss??
has he looked at you funny yet??

(B)
nah, he can deal with it

(A)
he must have lost all senses in his nose already from your farty's

(B)
stfu b**ch

(A)
hee hee just kidding

(B)
bye

(A)
bye ?

Higgledy Piggledy

I don’t know about everyone else but I have certain experiences/things in my life that I react to in a very strong way. What I mean is, that after I do the dishes I have to wipe every part of my sink, bench and stovetop to remove any droplets of water. When the wind blows my hair in my mouth I have this knee-jerk reaction where I feel like I may vomit if I don’t get it out (AAH GET IT OUT!) If I see that the coffee table has the TV Guide and remotes just laying higgledy-piggledy, I have this underlying twitch that forces me to walk over and straighten it all up. I have the tendency to think that our house is a pigsty, and my husband looks at me, lift's an eyebrow, and says, “Are you kidding? It’s spotless!” If I stall the car at the traffic lights, I want to shrivel up into a peanut and hope that no-one saw that stupid woman, who after three years of driving, should be able to find the balance between her accelerator and clutch. Because I feel that after this amount of time I should be able to drive with absolute precision…mmm maybe I am a perfectionist…MAYBE??!!

I also tend to try and better the order in which I do things in the morning to optimise the time that I can spend in the shower and moisturise my entire body so that I don’t dry up like an old prune (I get very dry skin in the winter, not that everyone needed/wanted to know that).

So, the question is…am I OCD?! Or am I just like everyone else, who has their weird little rituals and phobia’s that help them get through the day?

Italian Guilt

This morning I was raring to go to the gym but woke up and my entire body was aching! How inconvenient! I was a revved up last night for this week, I packed my work bag, my gym bag, went to bed nice and early to get a great sleep, but my body has let me down. I was going to go into work late this morning as I couldn’t do the groceries on the weekend as I was setting up my Mother in-Law’s 50th, but after that I was going to roar down to Freo and get on with things. The gym? Well the alarm went off at 5:45am and I was going to head out to pump some iron (little irons). But...I could not move!

Bodies are funny things, and lately I have realised that I don’t really take care of mine as much as I should do, particularly when it comes to exercising and also relaxing. I don’t do enough quality exercise and I don’t do enough quality relaxing. The exercise thing I have no excuse for as I have a gym membership, and the gym really close to my house. The relaxing thing…well, that is the Italian guilt!

Let me explain…part of my Mum’s family is Italian and all of the women in her family seem to have this inability to slow down, relax, and let go of the fact that there is one speck of dust on the otherwise perfect hardwood floor. See, we all have a cleaning disorder! Not because we can’t clean, but because we can’t stop cleaning. I remember when I was a teenager I used to laugh as my Mum ran around cleaning her house like crazy before her mother came over (or the cleaner arrived) and now, I do the same thing when my mother comes round, or anyone else for that matter! If we eventually are satisfied with the cleaning we start with the sorting and the chucking out of junk. So we do have perfect homes, but no time to relax, or exercise.

I actually find my eye begins to twitch if I have a load of dirty dishes, or if I see a mark on the floor. But the killer for me is dust! I will one day be able to combat dust! But at the moment it is beating my head against the tile floor. I have tried wet cloths andnormal dusters, now I am onto those dusters that actually “grab” the dust. I also have electro-static dusting cloths that suck the dust into their clutches (and they smell like orange…mmmmm…orange)

So the above cleaning disorder, driven by Italian guilt (that your house is your temple and it should never be dirty) is the reason why I can’t relax, and possibly the reason that I am so achy today. As this weekend I experienced Italian guilt in my home and also in my in-laws home as I cleaned before the 50th party. Mmmm, perhaps I can have the Italian guilt exorcised out of me?

Rejection

You know it’s funny how one thing can bring you down from being so high and having a great day. When you are so convinced that something will turn out and then it doesn’t. I suppose I shouldn’t have such high expectations of every situation, but then I would become negative, but then again I would avoid disappointment. A catch 22?

I lost an opportunity to do a job because someone quoted less than my totally reasonable quote. I know that I would have done an excellent job, it would have been well researched and tightly designed, with great attention to detail. I also know that if someone quoted less than me (my quote was quite cheap in design standards) that they most definitely could not be doing the job properly. I only know this because they would have had to cut down on several elements of the process, either in research, concepts, design and refinements time. Which will mean that the client will probably end up with a sub-standard outcome. Which I think upsets me more than loosing the opportunity. The fact that the client, who is so passionate about this project, will end up with a dud, but won’t realise until it’s all too late and their project flops, or doesn’t thrive liked they dreamed.

Oh well, what can you do? Nothing…and hope that something else comes along to fill the hole where that project would have been.

Why do we have to schedule our p**ty tang? Because Australia is playing Japan honey!

Last night Australia played Japan in the World Cup, though I don’t know why I am pointing that out as everyone will inevitably know unless they had their head under a rock for the last week. It was a good game, but it didn’t go well for quite a while, and I was convinced that I would have a very grumpy husband to deal with after the game. It’s funny how an Australian team loss is somehow comparable to the funeral of a loved one, and a win means that everyone is more excited than if they were attending a wedding or birth of a child.

In last nights game there was much face contorting which I found hilarious, and much yelling at the screen and verbal encouragement of the guys, which I am sure they could hear all the way in Germany!! I always find it funny to l see/hear screen yellers. Do they realise that no one, except their soon to be deaf partners/housemates can hear them?

Luckily Australia came to the party at the end of the game and scored 3 goals in the last 8-10 minutes. Thankyou Tim Cahill you have saved me from grumpy husband disorder.

I used your head as a remote boat while you were sleeping

Last night my husband and I planned a nice evening together, we had a lovely meal at home, he gave me a shoulder massage and then we chilled on the couch and watched the World Cup. Generally I am not interested in watching any kind of sport, but the soccer is ok, and I especially enjoy looking at my husband’s contorted face when something goes wrong in the game or someone misses a close goal. I was so exhausted that after about 10 minutes of WorldCup goodness and face contortion I literally passed out, effectively turning our night together into a night where he watches sports and laughs at me dribbling in my sleep. You could say we are pretty comfortable with each other.

This made me think about all of the things that happen when you get too comfortable in a relationship, I think you know you have reached this stage when:
o You feel you can break wind in the presence of your lover.
o You are soaking their shirts in Napisan, and take pleasure at being able to get out the pit stains.
o You look forward to spending your Sunday night watching a DVD and getting through the large ironing pile made up of those same shirts.
o You get horny when you see your partner doing housework, because you are so excited that its happening (we will
re-address this topic at a later date)
o Your partner uses your head as a remote boat while you are passed out on the couch.

Aspergillus??

MSN Conversation (note this conversation has been edited to protect those partaking and those they were discussing)

Person A
There is something on the list called Faecal Occult Blood WTF???? What do you reckon that means???!!!!!

Person B
Ewewewew

Person A
Ya. Sick as a doggggggggg. Gonnnaaa vommmm

Person B
Ew

Person A
Did you know that it would cost you $86 to have poo tested !!
ffs
lol
Would you like an Aspergillus Check of the urine??
lol
It's like a different language !!

Person B
haa haa haa
ewwww

Person A
Aspergillus
Oh my god…this is killer…what a classic…under the reproduction section…there is a pregnancy test called
"Relaxin B*tch Pregnancy Test”!!!!!!!
rofl
I am tearing up, this is great.

Person B
Hahahaha
That's f**kin hilarious

Person A
lol

Glad to be back with his Wifemon

My husband arrived home last night about an hour late as his plane was delayed, and he looked happy but exhausted. He told me that he really missed his Wifemon (nickname for me based on Pokemon). It was so great to see him, I suppose you don’t realise how much you appreciate having someone around till they are gone. I know it’s pathetic, and that it was one night, but it felt weird, it was the first night we have spent apart since we got married.

It is great to have sleep hugs, which is actually what I missed the most. I think the Artist formerly known as Subby Hubby (alias; Lasagne Goddess), would have found it a bit strange if I cuddled up to her on Wednesday night like I do with him.

Aah the comfort of a strong relationship with someone is so relaxing for the soul.

My Subby Hubby and I

My husband has gone on his first business trip, only for two days and one night in the middle, but I figured that I should have a stand in Husband while he was gone. So one of my girlfriends stayed over last night, as my Subby Hubby. And I have got to say…the really hubby has a lot to live up to now!

We had a fantastic evening, of lasagne, wine, chats, girly movies. The lasagne was cooked up for me, and I am eating the leftovers now, and it is …well…divine! The wine was delicious and the instalment of Diane Keaton in The Family Stone was perfection.

Interesting. See, last night gave me a little of an idea of what it would be like to live with a woman, and although I am not attracted to women, the lifestyle I experienced yesterday evening is definitely something I could get used to. No offence to all the guys out there, but your attention to detail in the kitchen cleanliness department is generally not that crash hot, with a woman on the other hand my kitchen was left spotless. There were no crumbs left on the bench and no spots of water on the sink (it has to be spot free da*mnit!).

Mmm…how do you go about getting a guy to do all that without sounding like you are trying to change/nag him??

Haa haa I called it a BLOB

Haa haa I just realised that at the beginning of the last entry I called the blog a blob! See that's how unobservant I am with spelling, and I wrote a 44,000 words thesis!

666 & Got to get back into the rythym (spelling)

Firstly apologies about the possible misspelling above, after all I am a designer and I do normally just insert the content I am thrown. :) Also I don’t even know if there is misspelling there or not, that’s how crap I am at spelling.

I have been really quite slack when it has come to this blob lately, there have been many opportunities for entries but lets just say this, I couldn’t be a*sed logging on. It is a pity though as life is constantly full of funny little stories that I feel I should share, even though most likely, no one reads this.

We just had a long weekend here in Perth, thought being decidedly ignorant I have no idea what the public holiday is for. In fact I didn’t even know there was a public holiday on Monday, till last Friday. That’s jut how out of the loop I am with the big wide world. My “out of the loop-ness” draws from the fact that I now boycott the news on a regular basis, as (a) it has become to depressing and I often feel like shooting myself afterwards or having my tubes tied so as to not expose children to this world, and (b) I fee like the news has turned into a huge circus act of sensationalism, which only makes point (a) even worse.

The long weekend was lovely! Although we had so much time we did no housework. Though I did all of the washing, about a 50 tonne of ironing, the groceries, and we planted some rosemary along our front fence. The plants are really small, and we want them to grow into a hedge, but I have a feeling that it will take a good 5 years for this to happen, so we will just have to live with crappy little shrubs.

It is currently 3pm on Tuesday, and I appear to have reached my limit work wise, I feel like I have a long weekend hangover. All of that lazing around the house and sleeping in seems like a lifetime away as I sit here in the office in Fremantle. But don’t be fooled! I love my job and I love coming to work, but today I forgot my wallet (due to long weekend hangover) and since then I have felt all out of sorts, oooowwww and I just burnt my tongue on my coffee and almost choked on it. I just feel like I am living in a blur today.

Today also is the 6.6.06 and many people seemed to be concerned with this being D-day, the devil’s day. I am not much of a believer in mumbo jumbo like this, I tend to suppress being suspicious otherwise I would not sleep at night, and would imagine that there was a tiny devil creature dancing on my bed head. Every morning (actually every time I get in the car) I listen to Triple J Radio, and this morning they had people ringing up identifying parts of their morning which were consistent with the coming of the devil (all jokes of course but some good stories). One guy was driving behind a car with 666 as the number plate, there were many other stories, I believe that the devil stole my wallet and that’s why I had to bum $3.50 for parking of a stranger.