Barking & New Years Eve

Every night at about 10pm a group of people stand in the park across from our apartment for about 2 hours and let their dogs bark at each other. The dogs bark and bark and bark, for TWO HOURS! All I have to say is FFS why don’t you just take them off their leads and let them kill each other! At least then I will be able to sit on my couch in peace and then lay on my bed and sleep in peace!

I love dogs, I am a dog person, I wish I had a dog, but we live in an apartment and that would just not be fair on the poochy. But if I had a dog I would put the d*mn thing through some training so it doesn’t bark for TWO HOURS every night. Another thing! How about not walking the d*mn dog with all your friends and their d*mn dogs at 10PM at night! How bout that?!

Well…now that I have that off my chest, I hope that everyone has an amazing New Years Eve! Just make sure you don’t build it up too much, cause if you do, you will be disappointed, expectations are a fungal rot on a New Years Eve. Instructions are as follows; go with the flow, say yes to everything (except cheating on spouses and drugs), drink and be merry, make sure you kiss someone you love at midnight!

...not very xmassy

"You may not want to go into the bathroom for a while"

"Why's that?"

"All that rich Christmas eating has caught up with me"

"Oh God...can you put the fan on or something"

"Well it's not really pongy, more just looks gross"

"Well, that's what the flush button is for love"

"Oh yeh"

God, He/She

Yesterday, I met with my God mother in the city for a catch up, I had not seen her in about 2 years so it was nice to have a bit of a chat and catch up on what both of us had been doing. She has always taken her position as my spiritual guide and support very seriously, and always asks me how my faith is doing. Well, well, well, that is an interesting question as I recently got married in a garden by a celebrant, with no mention of religion what so ever. So obviously I have not turned out the perfect Roman Catholic that perhaps my parents originally intended. Not that my parents are ridiculously active in the Roman Catholic Church, my mother definitely isn’t and my Dad is more of a fan of the Anglicans.

She is really a lovely woman, my momentary visits from her over the years have always been enjoyable, and I know that despite the fact that we haven’t spent heaps of time together throughout my life, that she loves me. I know that she tries to reserve judgement on me not being an active Christian, and perhaps the reality that I don’t even know that I believe in organised religion. I think I do however deep down inside believe in God, or whatever he/she is, and whatever he/she is supposed to do or mean to our human existence. I don’t believe that he/she created the world though. All that creation in seven days stuff has always seemed a bit to unrealistic to me, even when I was young and impressionable. The thing is, I still celebrate Christmas and Easter, god knows why (pardon the pun) as I don’t believe in Christ/Jesus. Well maybe there was a guy who was a do-gooder who was born and dedicated his life to helping the sick and the poor, like Mother Teresa, though I have a feeling being a nun she was inspired by this guy.

See, the whole concept of faith and belief seems to be so important to us humans, like believing in ourselves, and each other is not enough. That thinking that we can be in charge of our own destiny is not good enough, and dealing with the consequences of our own actions without passing blame to a cause is not possible. This is why I have such a hard time thinking/talking about religion, because it seems to me that people heavily/partially involved in religion seem to be incapable of shaping their own destiny, making decisions on their own, or capable of reigning themselves in when they misbehave, always asking their respective God/s for forgiveness instead of asking for it from the people they have hurt or even from themselves.

I think that young people (well I suppose I can only speak for myself here) are totally terrified by organised religion. After all, what do we see all the time around us? People committing mass atrocities against other people and doing it in the name of their God and religion. Whoever God is I am sure that he/she would not be happy with people enforcing their ideals through violence onto others, unless of course he/she is a nasty b*astard, who knows? So many wars, killing sprees, cultural take-overs, deprivation of civil rights take place everyday in the name of religion, and churches wonder why people are so opposed to religion these days? Just look at the entire of human history, yesterday, today and what horrible things people will do tomorrow in the name of religion.

I have heard many people tell me that Christianity in particular teaches people morals and values, but I don’t know whether that is necessarily true, I think that you learn these things from the people that surround you, and the people who love you, like parents, grandparents, extended family, friends, sisters, brothers, and partners. I have learnt more about life, love, care and support from my family than any church could have taught me. So I suppose I do believe in a sort of religion…the religion of family and friends, and the richness of love and humour that these special people bring to my life.

After my coffee date with my godmother I went to the Art gallery and then wandered back through a park towards home. Some gothy teenage boys were hanging under a huge fig tree in the park, and they yelled at me “Merry Christmas” then following that “I hate Christ”. I didn’t really feel anything after I heard that, no need to defend this Christ, whoever he was. How do we know he even existed anyway, but through stories that were written in a book by a collection of human beings. This is all we know of any God, through collections of historical material, all created by men and women. So how do we know it was true at all? Can science tell us? Can the believers convince us? Maybe it’s all to do with the human need to have faith in something, anything, a being that oversees and protects, and an institution that delivers the so called message from that being to the lowly parishioner. I wonder what would happen if we stopped believing in churches, religion, in a god, and started believing in ourselves, and our fellow man?

Well, for what it’s worth, Merry Christmas. Even if your not a believer, like me, perhaps we can just set this time of year aside for quality time with the ones we love.

The biggest of the smalls

I was going to leave this rant until after Xmas so as to not spoil the spirit of this time of year. But the other day I went to buy some tights at Supre and that just tipped me over the edge. I don’t know if any of you have noticed but over the past few years the sizing of women’s clothing has gone through some serious tweaking. By tweaking I mean that what used to be a size 8 or 10 is now no longer a size 8 or 10, it’s more like a 10 or 12 respectively. Now I know I shouldn’t b*tch about being a size 8/10, but when this first started happening all I could think was that I was on a slippery slope from eating too many carbs. I have never been self conscious about my body until now.

At Supre I was trying to buy a pair of brown tights, and on the pile on tights there were the following sizes; s, xs, xxs, xxxs. Seriously XXXS! That size should not exist! That size only fits stick insects and pre-pubescent 14 years old girls! What is the fashion world coming too, when a skinny girl feels bad about going shopping for clothes? Maybe I am being a drama queen, but all I can think about is how horrible must it feel to go shopping when you are a beautiful size 12, or 14? Why does the fashion world deem it necessary to make beautiful women with realistic body shapes feel bad about themselves, after all aren’t these the majority of the buyer market? The cannot seriously be that many stick insects in this world that require an entire fashion market to cater to them.

What is the fashion world coming to? Why are they alienating the majority of their market? Doesn’t seem like smart marketing to me.

P.S Happy Birthday Mamma.

A Hug

When I watched this I got tingles all over. If only we would all open ourselves up to this idea a little more. In this crazy, uptight, scary world we all tend to walk past each other as if the other doesn't exist, or the other person is going to molest us. How did we all get so terrified of each other? I am a prime example of this, I walk down the street clutching my purse, glancing suspiciously at every passerby like they are all out to get me. I am sure they all stare back at me with the same suspicion, especially when I am wearing one of my crazy outfits.

I think that this was filmed in Sydney, so next time I go into the city I will have to look out for this guy, and give him a hug.

Check it out here.

Reflective

I have been feeling very reflective in the last few of days, to allow my brain to catch up with our new life, and all of its new challenges. My poor old brain and heart have taken a beating over the last year really, not necessarily a beating in a bad way, perhaps a description would be ‘a workout’. Yes, ‘a workout’ is definitely what I have experience in the heart and the head department in the past year.

This time a year ago I was working for a design studio, and since then I have:

• Left my job
• Dealt with various family crisis (sad face)
• Started my own business from scratch
• Got married (happy face)
• Moved into a shared office, where I learnt heaps and had heaps of fun.
• Moved out of a shared office (sad face)
• Moved across country, which resulted in losing all physical contact with my best friends, family and newly discovered design guru’s.
• Realised that perhaps I wasn’t as profitable in my business as I wished (fair go though, it’s only been 9 months since I started it)
• Realised that without work face-to-face contact and separation from loved ones, I have in fact become…a loner…oh yes.

Mmm, yes. I know what you are thinking, “poor little brain, poor little heart”. I know that I have my husband here with me in this new town, and believe me he really is my best friend in the whole world. But…each of us need other things/people in our lives other than each other. Unfortunately we have long ago left behind that completely amateur idea/reality of a relationship where all you want to do, is spend time with your partner 24/7. I know, and he knows that this is not healthy for a person’s brain, and heart. We can support and look after each other without being permanently attached at the hip.

So…do I have a plan. Oh yes! I have a plan! I am setting the wheels in motion…perhaps when the time is right I will share the details.

Pain in the neck

A few times in my life I have been punished for being a woman when I have been drying my hair. Oh yes, I put my neck out whilst drying my hair! Now it could be that perhaps I don’t have a great chair or posture when working, perhaps my neck got cold last night with the fan blowing on it, and perhaps I should not dry my hair with such vigour. Either way I am now stuck half laying down, with hot packs all over my back and neck, pumped up on antiinflammatory’s and trying to gently stretch my neck and back. I feel like an invalid and the only thing that seems to be becoming more certain is that soon, I may not be able to move…at all.

Classic Comment

My husbands response to an Idol Teeny Bopper Singer on a commercial radio station:

"It's like someone just shat in my ear."

We are made for each other.

New Neighbours

Now that we have moved we have a whole new set of neighbours, of which we can regularly hear turning on and off light switches inside their apartments. Welcome to apartment living, where if you are lucky you won’t hear your downstairs neighbours fart! Speaking of farts, and the downstairs neighbour. He really likes garlic, and I mean really really really likes garlic. How do I know this? Well every lunch time I smell this really intense garlic smell, like I am myself wrapped in a giant garlic clove. Now I know I am occasionally prone to exaggeration, but I am not exaggerating this time, I promise. The guy must put at least 15-20 cloves into whatever he makes for his meals! Ok maybe 15-20 is a bit of an exaggeration, but the garlic is making my eyes water and we live on different floors, so I am guessing that he is using quite a bit of the stuff. I am also guessing that even though I haven’t heard him fart as yet, that he must be letting a heap of those go, and I am thankful that they are not seeping up through my floor and into my nostrils. This may also explain why the guy is still single. Ok, so I don’t know for sure that he’s single, but I have never seen a woman/man (you have to have an open mind, this is Sydney after all) go into his apartment, and with all the garlic I am pretty convinced that they never would.

I suppose Garlic Guy could also be trying to ward off vampires! You never know, you have to keep an open mind, after all this is Sydney! So really I should be sending him a little thankyou card with the words “Thanks for keeping the vampires away with all the garlic, our families thank you for protecting their loved ones” Aah neighbours, neighbours, neighbours. We did end up seeing our old neighbour in Perth one last time, the one that we thought was dead. She was in fact not dead, but backing her car out of her drive, after she had removed all of the plant growth that had engulfed her wheels of course.

We do have another neighbour; she is not in our building but the one behind ours. She religiously practices her violin everyday and it is so lovely. I can regularly be seen taking out the trash, then holding my nose to block out its smell, and prancing about the back alley listening to her swooning violin playing. She’s really very good.

I love my husband...

A great email that I received from my husband the other day...

hi lovey, how you doing?

smoochies
hug
hug
smooch
*grope*

looked at those mac computers very quickly this morning. seems we could get a 20" one for ~$2,100. We can look again in April/May to check pricing and whether they have ironed out the bugs. you should find out if there is a forum or whatever that updates the issues on the move to the new processors.

He's great!

She’s coming tomorrow!

Tomorrow one of my girlfriends arrives to stay with us for a few days, and I am super excited. Also I have this un-nerving compulsion to scrub my apartment from top to bottom, drive to Ikea and buy little frames to put up all the pictures I was going to attend to later, go and buy some Christmas paper and make decorations, baste a turkey, scrub the apartment from top to bottom again. It’s not that the apartment is dirty at all, I cleaned it on Monday and I do general cleaning every chance I get during the day, it’s just that I have this ingrained need to have everything perfect when people visit us. It’s not that my friend will even mind, she won’t at all, it’s just that I will worry that the house is not perfect and will passive aggressively torture myself if it’s not. Damn these OCD Italian cleaning genes!

Sooo, this afternoon I will drive out to the shopping centre and get some flowers, some stuff from Lindcraft and a paper shop to make my house look even more perfect than it already looks! (Oh dear, I really do worry about myself sometimes!) I am worried about killing myself on the way to the shopping centre though, as I have not yet driven over here and I am worried that all the Sydney scary drivers will ram me like the insane taxi driver did a couple of weeks ago. See I just can’t risk that kind of stress as my head may explode if the car gets ruined in addition to there being one speck of dust on the coffee table.

So despite all the torture that I will inevitably put myself through today, to ensure that the house is perfect, I am still super excited about my friend coming over here! I have really missed my girlfriends!

P.S Mental note: do not paint nails in enclosed spaces like I did this morning. When you paint your nails in an apartment the size of a shoebox it is important to open a window so that your husband doesn’t come home and find you shrivelled up dead on the floor from the nail polish fumes. Nail polish poisoning…another side effect of having everything anally perfect, including your fingernails.

Mental Note

Even though the local Pizzeria's Hot Prawns pizza, with king prawns, hot chilli, garlic & herbs seems like a good idea at the time of ordering and consumption. It is never worth it, due to the bathroom agony experienced the following day. All of you remember that!

Flat

Do you ever have one of those days when you feel like doing absolutely nothing? When no matter how much you try to set yourself up to do something, prepare yourself with coffee, lining up all of your folders and writing your to do list, you just can’t seem to begin? I am having one of those days, when it seems that I can do everything else in the world but anything constructive. I have to pull myself out of it, how, how, how do I do that? I just feel…I dunno…flat…very flat…extremely flat. I can’t explain it.

That was earlier today…now I am feeling much better. See all that has to happen is that you get half of your Christmas cards done, enveloped and addressed, whilst feeling super efficient, as it is still November! Then your fabulous husband comes home, notices that you have had a sh*tter of a day, takes you out to dinner and gets you liquored up, cheers you up with great conversation, and then you feel even better. Aaah, I love my man.

Public Urination

I have started going for a walk everyday, for fitness and also to have a bit of a look around this new city. I have been choosing new directions each day and it’s been a great way to examine all of the areas that we do and do not want buy into in the future. On Monday I went for a great walk, lots of beautiful streets and houses, great weather. Which all ended with me walking down the road and some old guy showing me his winky, and then proceeding to do his business! Yeah! I am not lying, it was the most disturbing thing I have seen in a long time. You think he could have just found a bathroom rather than scarring the 100 or so people on the street.

I know it happened on Monday but it took me a couple of days to be even able to come to terms with the fact that I had seen something that looked like a prune, before I could then expose you to the horror.

Bambino or Bambina?

I received a message last night from on of my girlfriends back in Perth, that her lovely little baby was born yesterday evening. When I read the message I got tingles all over! It’s so exciting to think that she has brought this gorgeous little bundle into the world, and how much it will change her and all of us for the better. Congrats love, on a b_e_a_utiful healthy baby. I can’t wait to see the photos.

(P.S Is it bambino or bambina for a girl? Or neither? Was trying to get all international on your a*ses, but have possibly failed miserably)

The morning I had a visit from a Cherry Picker.

As I type, there is a cherry picker parking outside our apartment building and orange traffic cones being spread around it to stop traffic. You know why? Well when we moved in there were several cracked windowpanes in our little 1920’s windows and these guys, they are here to fix them. I thought that maybe they would come in the apartment and fix them from the inside as it seemed like the obvious course of events. But noooo, apparently there are three guys and a cherry picker required. They are not yet on their way up, probably packing the panes of glass into the picker part of the cherry contraption.

So this post will be a live post, well not posted live, but written live as opposed to my regular posts reflecting on the day. You’re in for some fun!

Oooh, it’s coming up! Yay! (Can you tell that perhaps I have been a little starved of human contact?) Wow they have blocked half of the pavement too, must be to prevent people form being showered in glass and suing the bajeezes out of them.

Oops, fell behind a bit, was setting up presentation boards. Ok, so there is glass all over kitchen, lots of banging, and new panes going in. All I am thinking right now is that those guys had better bloody come in and clean up my kitchen, I can’t even look at it right now as my head may in fact explode.

Thank god, they just came to clean up, and they have just left, and I have new windowpanes. The thing is when boys clean up, they don’t really clean so it’s crystal clean, so there are tiny glass shards all over my kitchen and all over the window sill in the lounge. See Boys, a dustpan and brush don’t really cut it when you are dealing with teeny tiny shards of glass! Didn’t your mother’s teach you anything! Vacuum cleaner time for me and I have had enough of the live writing business, doesn’t give me time to think of anything witty.

P.S Did I mention the glass boys were cute? But they can’t clean very well, so sorry all you single gals, that makes them a no go zone, then again they would come in handy in the event of a glass breakage. They were not as cute as my husband of course.

Jaded

Today at 2pm in the afternoon a man walked down our street ranting and raving, yelling ‘f’ this and ‘f’ that, yelling at imaginary people, as you do. Me, being a killer for drama rushed out onto the balcony to check it out. I looked down, and he was in fact yelling at no one in particular, mainly just the people in his head. The interesting thing was that all of the surrounding people just walked right by him, as if nothing was happening, as if this kind of behaviour was something they see everyday. Heck, in this neighbourhood it is probably something you see everyday.

See this is how you can tell that I am not Sydney born and bred, because we would react to something like that in Perth, we would stare and then run, or cross the road at least. Here they just continue walking right past the guy, even bumping into him, and he doesn’t even notice, he just keeps on yelling at the people in his head.

It’s interesting what we get used to in our lives that we no longer even see anymore. I have been picking up on a lot of that kind of stuff lately, as I seem to notice everything here, cause it’s all new to me, whereas everyone already here has seen all this and worse. I suppose someday I will become as jaded as they are.

Our interesting weekend…

Our Saturday began with a lovely sleep in, a stroll and great coffee and toast from our new haunt. I bought the paper on the way home and read the first section of it, the Sydney Morning Herald is huge so I like to attack it one section at a time, and after each section I generally need a break.

The Saturday had started well, then we decided to go to the shops to get groceries, window shop (e.g. look at things in fancy shops that we can’t afford). The problems began on the way there, the traffic was hideous due to the nearby markets, and also that it was perfect beach weather. The hubby got so frustrated he debated turning the car around, but I was able to calm him and we kept going. Retrospectively I wish I had said nothing and that we had turned around. The shops were fine, but I was over the window-shopping pretty quickly, we were looking in a lot of electronic shops and I was dragging along my lime green granny trolley, so I kept bashing into things. We were however looking for headphones for me to use Skype, so I was in no position to complain.

We got to the groceries in the end and things were looking up, we had found a Woolworth’s so I was back in my element. All the products I used to get in Perth were there, the prices were cheaper than Coles, and I knew where everything was, the only difference was that the range was much bigger, which was, well fantastic! (Yes, that’s me, getting excited about grocery shopping!)

Baah booww…the joy did not last for long. We lost the car. Well, we didn’t lose the car, we just forgot where we parked it, which was somewhere under possibly the biggest Westfield shopping centre in the Southern Hemisphere. It was ok though as he had a plan, I was to stand with the trolley whilst he scoured the floor where we thought we had parked. See, they have these little codes, but we had forgotten ours a little bit, kinda half forgotten, and there were no distinguishing features about the car park. As in, I thought ‘Hang on a tic, I remember that corner and that sign, but hang on a tic there is another one just like it, and another, and another. Holy Potato everything down here looks the same!’ We did eventually find the car, but not before the husband had scoured 2 levels of the car park.

When we finally got out of the car park, we were side swiped by a taxi, who decided to mount a curb so that he could gain one car length on us. (Shall we bake a cake and write “Was it worth it?” on it for you Mr Taxi Driver?) After he scratched the side of the car he proceeded to drive away, no swapping of details or anything. Lucky I am the bag lady and carry notebooks and pens with me. We spent the rest of the afternoon feeling decidedly sorry for ourselves and our poor little car, and then we made police reports called the taxi company etc etc.

The car scenario was the real low point. I made a roast for dinner which would have been great except I am used to a cool oven requiring a very long cooking time, and the one we have now is much hotter, hence I over cooked the roast. There is nothing I hate more than over cooked meat, that dry texture is horrible. Hubby loved it, though he may just have been saying that to cheer me up.

Sunday was much better, though we both still felt a bit out of sorts due to our run in with the crazy that is, the Sydney Taxi Driver. It involved completing the enormous read of the paper and the movies. We saw a strange one called Children of Men, a great film filled with action and emotion. Check it out.

Aaah Sweet Broadband

Aaah sweet Broadband, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

1. You don’t leave in a constant state of desperation by disconnecting every hour.
2. You take less than 5 minutes to load a web page.
3. You allow me to be on several different sites, msn and email giant files all at the same time.
4. You are wireless, with no messy strings attached.
5. I can sit on the couch, in bed, on the floor on the dining table, maybe even in the stairwell and still have access to the net.

I love you broadband.

Now that my pathetic spiel over my inability to deal without broadband is over, isn’t it interesting that such a together woman can fall apart when she doesn’t have a fast and continuous Internet connection? My life seems to depend on it, and in terms of business and earnings it does. I wonder what would happen if there was a nuclear bomb and there was no internet, I suppose that wouldn’t matter as my concern would be the fact that I may no longer be living…ok enough of stupid internet talk, it is going no where.

In other news, the weather here has been absolutely loopy today. I felt like I was living in Antarctica except for the snow and ice part. It was so d*mn cold and the wind was so strong, I thought the apartment windows might explode. Did I mention that I was wearing leather boots, a scarf and a jacket with a hood and it’s November! November People! The time when I should be lazing on the beach, wearing pluggers and singlets.

Also I saw this guy today who looked exactly like Lenny Kravitz, except I think that this guy way gay. He had the whole stringy fro, black jeans, leather jacket, cool boots, buggy sunglasses thing going on, he was totally hotttt! Hee hee looksies only I promise.

Ok, chicken time! Hungry belly demands food.

Four seasons in one day… that’s definitely true

Today Sydney has fulfilled the prophecy stated by Crowded House all those years ago. This morning, it was warm and sunny, then midday it was pouring with thunder and lightning, currently (afternoon) it is lovely and sunny again! What the! I am only glad that I don’t have to leave the house otherwise I would have had huge issues with what I put on this morning, Sounds nerdy, but I always tailor my clothing to the weather, but you can’t tailor outfits to this kind of weather, it’s just impossible!

Speaking of clothing, if I have to go to Bondi Junction Westfield one more time and stare longingly at all of those pretty clothes in the windows, I just might die. I wish I could take a photo for you guys, but they would probably arrest me for taking photos is a shopping centre, I could be planning an attack on Dangerfield for Christ’s sake, in order to spring myself this seasons hottest jeans! The thing is, I have found it a little difficult to compete with the fashion-istas over here, for some reason my little gold ballet shoes, no brand jeans and stripy t’s don’t seem to cut it here in Syd-o-ney, because they are soooo last season daaarrhhling. At least I haven’t been hanging out in Double Pay (oopps I meant Double Bay) otherwise I am sure that I would be feeling even more self conscious about now.

See gals, this spring it’s all about dresses, dresses and more dresses! Oh dear god, soon I have to go to an Xmas function, I have nothing to wear, best go get me one of those spring dress numbers.

My hands hurt…mine hurt more

Last night after eating our delicious Satay Beef, we popped together two of our new storage cabinets for the lounge. Well, ‘pop’ might be a little bit of a lie, perhaps ‘struggled’, ‘moaned’, or ‘blistered’. In fact, we haven’t even finished the second one, the doors still have to go on, but we looked at each other and new that we couldn’t go on.

Let me clarify that my husband in fact did most of the work, I just tightened screws, because he has done so much building over the last few days, putting together the dining table and all the chairs, that he can hardly move his hands. Poor Love.

I will eventually get the photos up on the web of the whole moving in fiasco, perhaps tomorrow. I started back at work yesterday, and it was insane! I logged on and had about three thousand emails from 5 days away from my computer. We haven’t got the internet up at home as yet, so I am down at the café down the road till my laptop battery dies. I come down here twice a day and send and receive email, and hopefully have enough battery at the end of it all to read my daily dose of news and dooce. I am looking forward to being able to curl up on the couch again, or in bed with the wireless internet though, it’s comforting to be able to flip open the laptop in the morning and know that you can find out anything that you want to just by typing in two little words…google.com

First Day at School

This morning I dropped of my husband at the train station for his first day at work. He seemed very excited and although he doesn’t seem to be nervous I don’t think he slept as well as he normally does. I can still hardly believe that we are over here in Sydney now and our new life over here has begun. The last 5 days have been a blur of unpacking, buying fridges and furniture, unpacking, eating out, unpacking, cardboard, packing paper, unpacking etc. You get the picture.

There have been emotional ups and downs, though there have predominantly been ups, despite the fact that we have been living in a tornado of paper and boxes which has been hard for my OCD cleanliness side to deal with. I have been able to keep the kitchen, bathroom, and our bedroom spotless however, so this has helped me to deal with the fact that we are still surrounded by boxes in our living room, and have to lay on the ground to watch Scrubs.

A few of the emotional downs have been that my uncle described our area of choice to live as nice, except that we are surrounded by prostitutes and people who spend their life with the Ice Fairies. Oh dear…another was that this morning in the paper there was a story about a serial rapist who climbed into a woman’s window during the day and assaulted her. This was in a different area to where we are, but you can imagine my concern working from home during the day. Thank god that we live on like the 4th floor of a secure building, which is impossible to climb up. Can you see now why I can’t watch scary movies? I end up going through all of the terrible things that could happen to others or me after I see them, and then don’t sleep for days!

The emotional ups for today are that we get our new red couch delivered and all of our funky new lounge room cupboards. Finally, some place to put all the unpacked items. We will spend the entire evening putting together storage units! What fun!

Images of boxes, unpacking, and copious amounts of packing paper coming soon...

Extremely, extremely slack…and this is why

I have been very slack with the old blog lately, and it is because I have not had two moments to rub together over the last several weeks.

In the last few weeks, we have:

• Cleaned the cr*p and junk out of our house
• Prepared for removalists
• Travelled to Sydney to find an apartment
• Found above apartment, after much walking, pain, torture, exposure to the worst apartments in the world, and crying.
• Had our home packed up by three hilarious men, all of which have now seen my underwear collection, as they packed all of my belongings.
• Dropped our car with a company who will truck it over to Sydney
• Moved into my mum’s house
• Lived out of suitcases (still currently doing)
• Had a big goodbye BBQ
• Welcomed a brother back from Europe
• Had several mini break downs
• Had several little fights which we have simply dismissed due to our current stress levels
• Completed ridiculous amounts of design work in between all of the above

We are flying out in 2 days! We have reached the goodbye stages, which I am never good at. I am actually a little worried as I haven’t had a good bawl about leaving yet, and I am worried that when it hits I may not walk for days afterwards.

Stitch & B*tch

I wonder if this is what happens to my mum's sowing group when they go down south for their stitch and b*tch weekends? A bit OCD, but that' cool, I can relate to that, plus it's great animation.

Click here to see what I mean.

Ok…so we are moving to Sydney!

My un-employed husband is no longer un-employed! Oh yes, that’s right! My days of coming home to my househusband are almost over! Of course before I get to experience a workingman again, we have to pack up our entire lives and move to Sydney…small sacrifice! Haa haa, not really.

We got confirmation on Wednesday, and we have almost cleared out all the unwanted cr*p from our unit, which has been a really cleansing experience. I recommend that everyone imagine that they are moving interstate and cull all their cr*p so they can feel as cleansed as I do right now. I feel freed, from all of the useless papers, collected postcards, dusty books, old candles, teenage clothing (yes I am 24 and still had a huge box of teenage clothing). It is really amazing how much stuff really means nothing to our lives, yet we all seem to carry it around with us. I never thought of myself as much of a hoarder, I always do a twice-yearly sort and throw, but I have held on to so much useless, ugly, trashy things, all of which I actually disliked but felt compelled to keep.

This week we will have all of our stuff packed, loaded and trucked and will move in with my Mumma, and we will go to Sydney to look at apartments next weekend.

It is all happening so quickly, all of this change. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, as it has forced us to make quick decisions and not over think things too much. My only concern is that after about a month of being there that it will all hit us, and we will get a bit homesick and lonely. We will have each other, and some of my family also. But once we settle in, I think it will hit us that this is a really big change.

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!