OMG its that time of the year . . . uni exams are approaching, holiday work experience has to be organised for the Horticultural DrummerBoy and there just aren't enough bugs in the world to hand in tomorrow. Everyone's major project is due. 50 bugs in 50 days are being exterminated and pinned to a piece of naphthalene soaked Styrofoam in my laundry but there simply aren't enough species so the bug cull goes on . . . anybody got a spare invertebrate . . we're OK for spiders and moths but desperate for other sub-species . . .why didn't he start earlier?
Then there's the awesome stress of Clarebear's final assignment. A full-on major work that has to incorporate her two major subjects, Environments and Graphics. Her choice of subject "Making Sustainability Sexy" was a doozie. Then she gets the Tutor from Hell on Monday's who tears her to shreds and the reasonable mentor on Thursdays that builds her up so the week graphs out like the worst and best trading days on the stock market - all jam-packed into five!
Then there's a whole bunch of self-doubt topped with hormones, tiredness, missing this morning's Biology Exam (just as well there weren't any seats left, she can do it again next week!). A tearful . . . nay . . a sobbing Clarebear calls me at work on the mobile, inconsolable, ready to chuck it all in just 3 weeks from the finish line.
Then there's me . . trying to hold it all together, nervous as hell because ThePrincess is having her knee recon on Thursday and I've been dealing with the dramas of a refurbishment in the office and trying to calm Thommo down because I gave her favourite office chair away. Then there's the added stress of, teary daughters, grumpy sons and a little doggie that has no idea what she's in for. AND, now I have to think about what to have for friggin dinner! Save me . .
It's all about putting things into perspective, staying calm, being in control, cool, calm and collected - my advice:
Scream: there's nothing more liberating than actually emptying your lungs in a fully fledged scream. Too embarrassed to do it out loud, just scream into your pillow but don't hold back.
Drink- don't listen to all that stuff about it being a depressant. Alcohol can lull you into a stupor that just lets you cry your heart out and get it all out of your system. It tastes quite nice and is easy to administer. I recommend a nice champagne or something sticky on ice like Bailey's Irish Cream . . .
Smoke - whatever you like, tobacco, gunja, weed, choof, bloody banana leaves if they do the trick. Just remember to have the toasted sandwich maker on hand for the oh so inevitable munchies.
Sleep - nothing like wasting the hours away with a nana nap whilst watching some really boring soap opera. The only problem with this is that then you feel doubly guilty for not being more on top of your game..
Curse - For example, bitch-face Design tutor who hasn't been able to design anything more exciting than a 'feather chair' and something that looks like a red bathroom puff . . . you could curse her to a life of working for Innovations Catalogue doing typography in nothing but Times Roman Medium . . . and DrummerBoy to Hort tutor who says your graphics aren't good enough curse him to a life of pruning Boganvillia and spreading Dynamic Lifter . . . in 35 degree heat. (I'm quite good at this . . . ). Writing down your curses is quite cathartic . . .
Well kiddies . . that's all I can say . . it's not brain surgery, it's not life or death but it is important. Just 12 months for DrummerBoy and less than 3 weeks for ClareBear so hold on chickens . . stick it out to the bitter end. Soon you'll be free to choose your destiny and better still , get paid to do what you've been doing for free for 4 years! You're almost there . . .
Monday, October 30, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
I Know Why I'm Single . . .
Because men are the laziest sons of biatches I've ever come across. I simply can't be bothered with the lazy assholes. They smell funny, they eat too much, they never offer assistance, they think they're God's gift to the female sex and have the arrogance to match their stupidity.
No more obvious was this than today at work. This weekend we're painting our offices yeay! Yellow and blue, bright and cheery but can you find a man to help pull furniture and desks from the wall when you want one? . . . No. Apart from Boffin and the Argentinian . . . the rest of the males at my place of work wouldn't lift a finger. ButterflyGirl, Receptionist and Char are the only ones that chipped in for everyone, lifting bookshelves, computers and clearing surfaces so that the painting team can come in tomorrow at sparrows fart and make their workspace a nicer place. So what did the men do?
Markyboy ran away for the weekend and despite a day and a half warning of the forthcoming event, managed to move a few papers from half his windowsill. Poor form Markyboy! You are the laziest - fortunately you have quality female assistance.
Sgt Bilko . . . well he helped with his own stuff but no volunteering assistance to anyone else. He remained cocooned by bookshelves, desks and tables and just got on with his work and won't be in on Monday to reassemble the mess of pottage that is in fact his office. Looks like the girls will be back on the job on Monday!
The Yarpy didn't even turn up . . shame, because by now, we've had enough, he'll have to shift his desks himself.
AussieOirsh (not to be confused with the NZPubcast Oirsh who I will now refer to as Johnny Dodge) waxed lyrical for hours about the colours, which wall he'd like blue, which wall he'd like yellow and whether it might hurt his eyes he then proceeded to shit stir his staff by asking them what they thought of living in yellow offices to the point that I stated if their eyes started to bleed, I'd paint their fuckin' walls blue for them next week.
Roit . . .now we're ready to go. It's a mess but there's access to every wall, sill and door . . .thanks a lot you Ergophobiacs, Dextrophobiacs and Kainophobiacs . . .
I feel better now and vindicated in my long-held belief that men are only good for putting out the garbage, carrying eskies and casual sex although even that happens far to rarely and is often not done well!
. . shame on you men . . shame, shame, shame. I hope you all come back as removalists who work only in multi-storey apartments that don't have lifts!
No more obvious was this than today at work. This weekend we're painting our offices yeay! Yellow and blue, bright and cheery but can you find a man to help pull furniture and desks from the wall when you want one? . . . No. Apart from Boffin and the Argentinian . . . the rest of the males at my place of work wouldn't lift a finger. ButterflyGirl, Receptionist and Char are the only ones that chipped in for everyone, lifting bookshelves, computers and clearing surfaces so that the painting team can come in tomorrow at sparrows fart and make their workspace a nicer place. So what did the men do?
Markyboy ran away for the weekend and despite a day and a half warning of the forthcoming event, managed to move a few papers from half his windowsill. Poor form Markyboy! You are the laziest - fortunately you have quality female assistance.
Sgt Bilko . . . well he helped with his own stuff but no volunteering assistance to anyone else. He remained cocooned by bookshelves, desks and tables and just got on with his work and won't be in on Monday to reassemble the mess of pottage that is in fact his office. Looks like the girls will be back on the job on Monday!
The Yarpy didn't even turn up . . shame, because by now, we've had enough, he'll have to shift his desks himself.
AussieOirsh (not to be confused with the NZPubcast Oirsh who I will now refer to as Johnny Dodge) waxed lyrical for hours about the colours, which wall he'd like blue, which wall he'd like yellow and whether it might hurt his eyes he then proceeded to shit stir his staff by asking them what they thought of living in yellow offices to the point that I stated if their eyes started to bleed, I'd paint their fuckin' walls blue for them next week.
Roit . . .now we're ready to go. It's a mess but there's access to every wall, sill and door . . .thanks a lot you Ergophobiacs, Dextrophobiacs and Kainophobiacs . . .
I feel better now and vindicated in my long-held belief that men are only good for putting out the garbage, carrying eskies and casual sex although even that happens far to rarely and is often not done well!
. . shame on you men . . shame, shame, shame. I hope you all come back as removalists who work only in multi-storey apartments that don't have lifts!
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
What the?
What the? Vegimite has been banned in the US because only breads and cereals are permitted to contain folate. This seems really sensible since Vegemite is actually owned by Kraft, a US Company. The great Aussie icon has not only been bought but rejected . . . oh the humiliation. This link has a petition to save the black gunk for those who have expatriot friends in the US. In fact, you can't even smuggle it in any more - yep, Vegimite is contraband . . . who knows, maybe David Hicks can look forward to some company from his food terrorist countrymen . . .
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Pandora's Cupboard
It's official, I am an anal retentive geek (not a very good one). I've paused in the midst of my Saturday cleaning to check my email (ninemsn loves me) and found that at last I have some comments on my blog. Keep coming kiddies, it makes me feel popular and God knows I need it. I know it's pedestrian stuff but comments are always welcome.
Anyway, whilst cleaning my bathroom I decided to get stuck into that cupboard under the sink. You know, the one that has all the stuff you use at the front and all the shit growing mould on it stuck in the back. Well did I open Pandora's box . . . it's not that long since I ventured into the bathroom vanity but thanks to ClareBear's absolute obsession with waxing her limbs it was covered in orange veet and due to DrummerBoy's complete inability to put a lid on anything smothered in foam shaving cream. I found some cool stuff lurking in the bowels of the cupboard beyond the usual toothpaste, makeup and girly stuff . . .
2 x scented candles, unused due to the absolute miniscule size of my bath making a candle lit foray into bubbles an agonising experience
1 x bath plug with Snoopy on a chain (must keep that one if Stan and the Insta Family ever visit) not used since LittleNeph covered himself in chocolate and had to be dunked in soapy water to remove the offending scum
6 x packets of razor blades - none of which fit either of the two razors on site
4 x tubs of mango body butter (what does she do with it)
2 x tubes of body exfolient (she has got an obsession with skin methinks)
2 x tubes of hair streaker in pink and purple
My nail clippers - yeay I thought they'd gone to that place where odd socks go . . .
An unopened bottle of Calvin Klein Escape - what a coup . . just ordered some from Strawberrynet - hot tip guys and gals - cheap cosmetics, skin care, perfume, cologne, aftershave. Delivered in 4 days to your door and all wrapped in a pretty white ribbon.
2 x very expensive Abre Self Tanning Lotion - unopened
Think I might have a skin care garage sale! Anyway, all clean and tidy now.
Right, time to crank up the Vines and the Dyson
Anyway, whilst cleaning my bathroom I decided to get stuck into that cupboard under the sink. You know, the one that has all the stuff you use at the front and all the shit growing mould on it stuck in the back. Well did I open Pandora's box . . . it's not that long since I ventured into the bathroom vanity but thanks to ClareBear's absolute obsession with waxing her limbs it was covered in orange veet and due to DrummerBoy's complete inability to put a lid on anything smothered in foam shaving cream. I found some cool stuff lurking in the bowels of the cupboard beyond the usual toothpaste, makeup and girly stuff . . .
2 x scented candles, unused due to the absolute miniscule size of my bath making a candle lit foray into bubbles an agonising experience
1 x bath plug with Snoopy on a chain (must keep that one if Stan and the Insta Family ever visit) not used since LittleNeph covered himself in chocolate and had to be dunked in soapy water to remove the offending scum
6 x packets of razor blades - none of which fit either of the two razors on site
4 x tubs of mango body butter (what does she do with it)
2 x tubes of body exfolient (she has got an obsession with skin methinks)
2 x tubes of hair streaker in pink and purple
My nail clippers - yeay I thought they'd gone to that place where odd socks go . . .
An unopened bottle of Calvin Klein Escape - what a coup . . just ordered some from Strawberrynet - hot tip guys and gals - cheap cosmetics, skin care, perfume, cologne, aftershave. Delivered in 4 days to your door and all wrapped in a pretty white ribbon.
2 x very expensive Abre Self Tanning Lotion - unopened
Think I might have a skin care garage sale! Anyway, all clean and tidy now.
Right, time to crank up the Vines and the Dyson
Friday, October 20, 2006
I Like Your New Stuff Better Than Your Old Stuff
OK its Friday afternoon and I have a severe case of fourthirtyitis. EarthMother and ButterflyGirl took me out for a belated birthday lunch which was just scrummy, thanks girls. This whole birthday thing seems to have revolved around food which is wonderful if not very fattening. Anyway, a mezze plate, a bowl of prawn linguine and a couple of Semillon Chardy's and back behind the PC and I'm feeling very replete and schnoozy. My typing skills have declined commensurately and my motivation levels are at an all time low
Then up pops David Bowie singing "All the Young Dudes" - 30 years old and it still sounds great - What's that? My hearing's gone? I think not baby puppy . . . great stuff lasts (bit like good cheese, wine and me of course . . .)
Got me thinking about music I love and music I hate.
I love musicals, you know everything from Okhlahoma to CATS - pathetic I know but I want to know why Andrew Lloyd Webber has gone underground. Even the Boy from OZ didn't appeal to me - musicals these days are the domain of amateur dramatic societies . . . I haven't seen a decent musical since the Lion King and I'm desperate. C'mon you young producers and directors, bring the spectacle back!
I heard a Cog song this morning that reminded me they are grossly underrated but I can't remember what it was called. Great driving / vacuuming music. (Remember I'm an old fart so housework is an important part of my weekly routine and having a bit of rhythm in the background keeps me on track). Not just melodic grunge but a cool website to boost have a look/listen to Cog
I really like Justin Timberlake's Bringing Sexy Back although I think he's a tool. I'm keen also on anything Snow Patrol. Can't help wanting to do the hippy wiggle to the Go Team and am very keen on the Killers if in the right mood. Beck from what I've heard so far is reinventing the wheel once again and that big voice coming from such a diminutive performer is always impressive.
I can't stand those girly bands with little whispy voices - Little Birdy, Sarah Blaskoe . . if you can't belt it out then shut up. Similarly Evanescence have a sameness about them that is just plain boring despite the airplay they get, it all sounds the same - variety is the spice of life kids. AND . . .I don't want to watch another black gangsta video clip with boys dressed in oversized tracksuits and their hats on crooked, donning bling that will put your back out and those ridiculous diamond grills. Get over it guys . . . it's so 1980's. At least MC Hammer's Pants were slightly entertaining! Similarly, the scantily clad skanks that swan around them flashing their naughty bits and lap dancing even in the absence of a lap - girls, get thee to a nunnery . . you frighten the boys. Lads are like collies chasing a car, and have no idea what to do with you once they've caught you. If there's not $1000 in your knickers by the end of the clip, you've wasted everyone's time. It's demeaning, vulgar and unnecessary . . . (ooops grumpy old woman episode there . . hang on while I just gather myself together . . .) Here's an idea, do something clever . . engage your audience with stunning artwork, clever storylines and smoothly integrated graphics . . . and a tune we can enjoy rather than asking us to loosen your buttons, play with your London Bridge or bringing the boys in th yard with your milkshakes - you make pearl jam sound wholesome.
And you people who hang onto the past without even acknowledging the talent out there today - move forward - Just because Sting is enduring doesn't mean he's good . . .
I still listen to TripleJ as my station of choice it's all new music and I get loads of exposure a wide variety of genre's and artists long before they hit the commercial stations - new doesn't always mean good but change is good. At work we vacillate between Nova and TripleM splashed with commercials and a rotation list of about 6 songs plus the golden oldies - I swear if I hear "I wanna rock and roll all night . . " one more time . . .surely Gene Simmons and the boys are about to kark it? They're older than me!
I've also really moved on from what I call my 80's hiatus when I thought that Billy Joel, Sting and Fleetwood Mac were just the ants pants - mind you I also thought that the Play School album and Naught to Nine were pretty damn good. "Oh I forgot my mother's birthday . . I will be shot . . " (remember that one kiddywinks . . . all the way to Tasmania . . . in the car . . .)
Doesn't mean I don't like old stuff . . . just good old stuff. I swear if I hear Layla one more time, I'll throw a sensible shoe at the plasma screen. You know who you are you culprits!
Then just as I give a serve to my closest friends for their dated choice in music, I find out that ClareBear and GymJunkie are going to see . . . Muse? Nah . . . Placebo . . .nup . . . the Mars Volter . . . er nope . . . Gnarls Barkley . . . not even warm . . . Sting? God Forbid . . . . . they're going to see Bert Bacharach
I think I'll stay up late and watch Rage
Resolution for Today: Find out who the Hell Teddy Thompson is . . he's touring next month.
Then up pops David Bowie singing "All the Young Dudes" - 30 years old and it still sounds great - What's that? My hearing's gone? I think not baby puppy . . . great stuff lasts (bit like good cheese, wine and me of course . . .)
Got me thinking about music I love and music I hate.
I love musicals, you know everything from Okhlahoma to CATS - pathetic I know but I want to know why Andrew Lloyd Webber has gone underground. Even the Boy from OZ didn't appeal to me - musicals these days are the domain of amateur dramatic societies . . . I haven't seen a decent musical since the Lion King and I'm desperate. C'mon you young producers and directors, bring the spectacle back!
I heard a Cog song this morning that reminded me they are grossly underrated but I can't remember what it was called. Great driving / vacuuming music. (Remember I'm an old fart so housework is an important part of my weekly routine and having a bit of rhythm in the background keeps me on track). Not just melodic grunge but a cool website to boost have a look/listen to Cog
I really like Justin Timberlake's Bringing Sexy Back although I think he's a tool. I'm keen also on anything Snow Patrol. Can't help wanting to do the hippy wiggle to the Go Team and am very keen on the Killers if in the right mood. Beck from what I've heard so far is reinventing the wheel once again and that big voice coming from such a diminutive performer is always impressive.
I can't stand those girly bands with little whispy voices - Little Birdy, Sarah Blaskoe . . if you can't belt it out then shut up. Similarly Evanescence have a sameness about them that is just plain boring despite the airplay they get, it all sounds the same - variety is the spice of life kids. AND . . .I don't want to watch another black gangsta video clip with boys dressed in oversized tracksuits and their hats on crooked, donning bling that will put your back out and those ridiculous diamond grills. Get over it guys . . . it's so 1980's. At least MC Hammer's Pants were slightly entertaining! Similarly, the scantily clad skanks that swan around them flashing their naughty bits and lap dancing even in the absence of a lap - girls, get thee to a nunnery . . you frighten the boys. Lads are like collies chasing a car, and have no idea what to do with you once they've caught you. If there's not $1000 in your knickers by the end of the clip, you've wasted everyone's time. It's demeaning, vulgar and unnecessary . . . (ooops grumpy old woman episode there . . hang on while I just gather myself together . . .) Here's an idea, do something clever . . engage your audience with stunning artwork, clever storylines and smoothly integrated graphics . . . and a tune we can enjoy rather than asking us to loosen your buttons, play with your London Bridge or bringing the boys in th yard with your milkshakes - you make pearl jam sound wholesome.
And you people who hang onto the past without even acknowledging the talent out there today - move forward - Just because Sting is enduring doesn't mean he's good . . .
I still listen to TripleJ as my station of choice it's all new music and I get loads of exposure a wide variety of genre's and artists long before they hit the commercial stations - new doesn't always mean good but change is good. At work we vacillate between Nova and TripleM splashed with commercials and a rotation list of about 6 songs plus the golden oldies - I swear if I hear "I wanna rock and roll all night . . " one more time . . .surely Gene Simmons and the boys are about to kark it? They're older than me!
I've also really moved on from what I call my 80's hiatus when I thought that Billy Joel, Sting and Fleetwood Mac were just the ants pants - mind you I also thought that the Play School album and Naught to Nine were pretty damn good. "Oh I forgot my mother's birthday . . I will be shot . . " (remember that one kiddywinks . . . all the way to Tasmania . . . in the car . . .)
Doesn't mean I don't like old stuff . . . just good old stuff. I swear if I hear Layla one more time, I'll throw a sensible shoe at the plasma screen. You know who you are you culprits!
Then just as I give a serve to my closest friends for their dated choice in music, I find out that ClareBear and GymJunkie are going to see . . . Muse? Nah . . . Placebo . . .nup . . . the Mars Volter . . . er nope . . . Gnarls Barkley . . . not even warm . . . Sting? God Forbid . . . . . they're going to see Bert Bacharach
I think I'll stay up late and watch Rage
Resolution for Today: Find out who the Hell Teddy Thompson is . . he's touring next month.
Monday, October 16, 2006
20 Going On 12
Boys . . . almost 20 going on 12.
OK just ask me what happened on Friday afternoon. . .go ahead . . .ask.
I drove home from work at about 6.00 to find the carport soaked in engine oil (new fortunately for them - so not too stained) and two 20 year olds backed against the wall, remote controls in hand whilst their RM cars did burnouts on the slimy surface. They knew they were in trouble when I rocked up . . . "Lemmers where's Drummer Boy? And what's that stain on the concrete?" Lemmers gave me that sort of 8 year old "I'm gonna get a smack for this" look and said, "Oil?"
OK, it's fun but you should have seen the mess. "Where's Adam . . " and a sheepish point later I found him out the back with all my outdoor chairs stacked strategically to support a fluoro Hot Wheels track and Loop de loop. I didn't even know DrummerBoy had saved it. Nothing is thrown away with that boy . . it'll be lego next week. This, compounded with pocket bike marks all over the only little green patch left by the drought and the fact that they'd all been using my bath towels in the pool . . what do you do? . . .I wouldn’t mind so much but he still owes me because he was short on his car registration . . . obviously the purchase of a remote control car is essential to his wellbeing otherwise he would have paid back his debt first . . Today he has been armed with some laundry powder, a bucket and a scrubbing brush to remove the oil slick . . we'll see DrummerBoy . . we'll see!
OK just ask me what happened on Friday afternoon. . .go ahead . . .ask.
I drove home from work at about 6.00 to find the carport soaked in engine oil (new fortunately for them - so not too stained) and two 20 year olds backed against the wall, remote controls in hand whilst their RM cars did burnouts on the slimy surface. They knew they were in trouble when I rocked up . . . "Lemmers where's Drummer Boy? And what's that stain on the concrete?" Lemmers gave me that sort of 8 year old "I'm gonna get a smack for this" look and said, "Oil?"
OK, it's fun but you should have seen the mess. "Where's Adam . . " and a sheepish point later I found him out the back with all my outdoor chairs stacked strategically to support a fluoro Hot Wheels track and Loop de loop. I didn't even know DrummerBoy had saved it. Nothing is thrown away with that boy . . it'll be lego next week. This, compounded with pocket bike marks all over the only little green patch left by the drought and the fact that they'd all been using my bath towels in the pool . . what do you do? . . .I wouldn’t mind so much but he still owes me because he was short on his car registration . . . obviously the purchase of a remote control car is essential to his wellbeing otherwise he would have paid back his debt first . . Today he has been armed with some laundry powder, a bucket and a scrubbing brush to remove the oil slick . . we'll see DrummerBoy . . we'll see!
I Made it!
I made it! 50 today . . . can't believe it, I still feel more at home with the 20 somethings but there you go. The weekend was mad . . . Dinner at ButterflyGirl's on Friday was lovely they've just bought a new house and it's cute as a button with everything from an in ground pool to outdoor speaker systems. Lovely stir fry and a nice bottle of Logan Chardy.
Went over for the usual coffee to Babysis' place on Saturday with all intentions of washing
TheBoys as it was about 37 in the shade but got a bit settled and decided to drink coffee and chat rather than splosh ultraviolet shampoo over the scruffy pair who are in dire need of a good wash and a hair cut . . . maybe next weekend. Besides, it's a two person job - horses can make themselves very very tall when faced with a hose! Anyway, I was tossed out at 1.00pm so Babysis and ThePlumber could prepare for lunch. "Where are the kids . . ." I asked "We hired a back hoe to dig a hole in the back paddock and thrown them in with a water bo0ttle and a few toys. . ." was the reply. I think that could catch on as a safe way to quarantine kids for a bit of peace and quite . . .you should try it Stan! What an innovative way to deal with ankle biters . . . .She gave me a lovely outdoor candle and finally I have a back door mat instead of the oddly cut piece of carpet left over from when we did the pool room . . . 18 years ago! I know I could have bought one sooner but never got round to it.Then Thommo put on a great turn on Saturday with a few surprise guests, The Merry Widow, Struth Ruth and all the kids which was fantastic. Great company, super food and a big gold wrapped present. I love shiny things . . . Not that I'm materialistic but I like presents. Even DrummerBoy gave a speech which was very nice. Acknowledging that I'm a tolerant tyrant . . and an alright mum . . . Machiavelli's got nothing on me! Thanks MarkyBoy for the kind words and the Billiecart & Salmon Tres magnifique!
Not to be outdone on the Champagne stakes, I followed up on Sunday afternoon with BabyBro who broke out the Birthday Cake and Crosier . . and more presents! I feel like I've been on a food and drinkathon which is very appropriate when one stares their half-century in the face.
Sunday night GymJunkie cooked me dinner, how sweet. He even bought his cornflour and dry sherry from home and did me a treat with satay prawns and beautifully presented rice and a nice salad. I really appreciate gestures where people go out of their way to do something nice. And . . yep, more presents . . .yeay . . I might have another birthday next week. Finally, before coming to work this morning, ClareBear gave me her little offering a beautiful Greek ceramic jewellery box with a pair of very individual earrings from Santorini . . . just my style. Thank you darling, you're a treasure.
And the booty score . . .
Babysis
Decorative Outdoor Candle and a lattice hanger which makes it look like a mini Taj Mahal when lit - we ate our candlelight dinner around it last night - and a badly needed back door mat
Babybro
Breville toasted s'wich maker with bells on - I think it even makes the tea and does the dishes, and a bottle of Crosier which has now met its maker
Thommo and the Merry Widow
Fabulous red leather Estee Lauder vanity and makeup case and stacks and stacks of cosmetics (they must think need them . . . I guess at my age, I need all the help I can get. ) Now I have resolved to purchase red luggage for my impending travels to match the cosmetic case.
GymJunkie
Satay Prawns bless his cotton socks, champagne glasses and some Dusk melts, my house smells lovely but the glasses won't last long in the hands of Basher Bainbridge
ClareBear
Jewellery box and earrings she knows my style so well - fashion and sentiment.
DrummerBoy
Full Car detail and boy does it need it although because he's nursing a hangover today and has to clean up after the BBQ he had last night it might mean a postponement until later in the week.
StruthRuth
A lovely pot plant with the most delicate of fragrances, now sitting in the little wheelbarrow that once housed my herb garden
HippyBro
Fuck all - but that's expected . . .
Thank you everyone, you made this one very spesh! I must now crack on at work when I really need a nana nap!
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Fookn Foine
Aha, the bar has been raised . . Oirsh has very kindly linked me to his blog/podcast site after I sent him my menial offering. Whilst it's the lazy way to run a blog, it has a charm all of its own and for those of us with time on their hands or mindless jobs, you can tune in and pretend you're sitting in some NZ pub drinking Guinness slagging George Bush (not that you need a Guinness to go there . . ) and solving the problems of the world. Now the challenge is on. I thought he was an artoid geek type with a wicked sense of humour - turns out he's a laconic piss-pot with a penchant for the long version rather than the short. He podcasts in the pub with a mad Canadian and acknowledge that they're 'blow-ins' with some political commentary and a lot of finger-clicking to get the attention of the barmaid. I like it.
This lad from Eyre is far from stupid although very funny - he's opinionated in the nicest kind of way, has a strong political bent . . .left wing if I'm any judge and quite frankly I am surprised - dunno how the Irish got their reputation for being dim. Check it out. Takes a while for the download so use iTunes if you can. the NZpubcasts are few and far between but if you've got a spare half an hour it's entertaining to say the least to tune into the remarkably sober musings of these two not to mention trying to understand the accents without actually seeing their lips move!
This lad from Eyre is far from stupid although very funny - he's opinionated in the nicest kind of way, has a strong political bent . . .left wing if I'm any judge and quite frankly I am surprised - dunno how the Irish got their reputation for being dim. Check it out. Takes a while for the download so use iTunes if you can. the NZpubcasts are few and far between but if you've got a spare half an hour it's entertaining to say the least to tune into the remarkably sober musings of these two not to mention trying to understand the accents without actually seeing their lips move!
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Doggy Update
Well after having a general anaesthetic an x-ray and some serious manipulation, ThePrincess has definitely ruptured her cruciate and has bone degeneration in her left leg, this means a knee reconstruction (pic left). Whilst she's very sore she was hilarious when I bought her home last night, still under the influence of anaesthetic and wobbling about the kitchen, she kept collapsing and just lying there having a little think before attempting to jump on the bed. Unable to do so, I was forced to assist.So what you say? How is this blogworthy? This my friends is no ordinary dog - this is my third child, my bedmate (yes, I share a Queen Size bed with a King Size dog) my littly pookie wookie schnooks. The vet wanted to do the op on Friday (13th) but despite my not being at all superstitious, it's a bad weekend - Birthday celebs anticipated dinner at ButterFly Girl's on Friday Night and another at Thommo's on Saturday and DrummerBoy arranging a BBQ with younglings on Sunday afternoon so no nurse at home to take care of the invalid. Then the vet is off to Paris for two weeks - what is it about bloody Paris, everyone's been there except me but that's a whole other story - so she's scheduled for 2nd November. I'm preparing my leave forms as we speak to take her first week of invalidity off to make sure she's comfy womfy. Don't even ask about the price . . . footballers don't pay this much . . . you pet owners out there . . . take out pet insurance before you need it!
Resolution for today: Remember that ThePrincess is a dog and that ClareBear and DrummerBoy are my children.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Ex-cruciating
ThePrincess has pulled a cruciate ligament in her knee. Serves her right for being extra wiggly and ballistically bouncy and for racing from woe to 30km after rabbits that she hasn't got an ice cube's chance in Hell of catching. And, despite my best efforts and a stomach full of anti-inflammatories, she is going for her first anaesthetic and x-ray this afternoon - my little baby, she's only 5 years old in December! If the x-ray confirms suspicions, she's under the orthopaedic surgeon's knife on Thursday . . . that's right she has her own specialist!
It looks like my little poppet will need a knee reconstruction or a TPOL tibial plateau leveling osteotomy. Sounds impressive? They break a bit of bone to relieve pressure on the joint or something. Wait until you hear the cost AUS$2,500! She will have to be boxed up for six weeks with no movement except to go to the loo on a lead - anyone who knows Lily knows this is gonna kill her. She's a wiggly, sprinty, very active lab who knows stop and go and not much in between. Poor thing is going to think that I'm punishing her. I've just been searching websites to find out more but it looks like the best long term option. Who would have thought that running around could cause so much damage - I'm glad I don't exercise. Just as I've consolidated all my debt too . . . what a birthday pressie!
Stay tuned . . . maybe the x-ray will show something less serious.
It looks like my little poppet will need a knee reconstruction or a TPOL tibial plateau leveling osteotomy. Sounds impressive? They break a bit of bone to relieve pressure on the joint or something. Wait until you hear the cost AUS$2,500! She will have to be boxed up for six weeks with no movement except to go to the loo on a lead - anyone who knows Lily knows this is gonna kill her. She's a wiggly, sprinty, very active lab who knows stop and go and not much in between. Poor thing is going to think that I'm punishing her. I've just been searching websites to find out more but it looks like the best long term option. Who would have thought that running around could cause so much damage - I'm glad I don't exercise. Just as I've consolidated all my debt too . . . what a birthday pressie!
Stay tuned . . . maybe the x-ray will show something less serious.
The Week That Was
Aha . . back to work after a lovely 4 days off re-potting my plants, disposing of spider webs and their residents, cleaning windows and flyscreens, going mad with the pressure hose . . yes I know it's illegal but it doesn't use much water and it cleans concrete and mouldy walls like a charm. The irony is, I can employ someone to come and pressure hose my mouldy bits but I can't use it myself because of the water restrictions . . where's the justice . . . so I cheat. My God, I feel like Martha Stewart or that Lush woman who has all sorts of hints and tips for cleaning nasty little stains like Scotchguarding your dress if you're going out to eat Italian so that the tomato sauce doesn't stick (Monica Lewinski could have done with that tip . . . gawd, getting a bit pedestrian here . . ) Seriously tho, the Karcher Pressure Hose is my new toy. OK boys, you like your cars, motorbikes, planes, remote controls and computer games, I love my leaf blower and now the Karcher . . . just don't pressure hose bare feet, it hurts. You should see my retaining wall . . once covered with 17 years of damp and mould is now a gleaming new wall. The pavers are actually a nice sandy colour, not swamp green after all. I can't wait to play with it again.
I didn't manage to have a nice seafud lunch with ClareBear or Babysis as usual - finances are at a premium at the moment to the point where I've consolidated my debt through a five year personal loan. It's obvious the house isn't going to sell in a hurry despite the chains of Beijing Businessmen being shown around the back paddock. I did have a great lunch yesterday with YummyMummy and Overall but BikerGirl couldn't make it unfortunately so it was a small gathering. The only one bad thing about eating at YummyMummy's place is that she's lactose intolerant - oh that mud cake was just begging for a delicious dollup.
Poor YummyMummy, last time we visited it was pissing down, this time we arrived in 35 degree temperatures only to be driven inside by a southerly buster for fear of being blown off the verandah with the porch swing and the pool filter box lid! We were duly entertained by Gabby and the RibbonKid . . . dancing to one of the most obscure children's records (yep actual vinyl thing that goes round and round) Ah, I remember the age of fairy costumes and pinkness - all those ballet lessons, jazz, musical instruments and I've raised a 22 year old with absolutely no talent for any of it, I could have done so much more with the money. Overall and GreekLover are heading off to the States tomorrow I'm really envious, San Fran then the Eastern States, have a great time kids and good luck driving on the wrong side of the road.
Little else to report this week, it has been a homebody week and only one week to the day before I turn 50 - bugger! No celebrations planned, it's a real anti-climax - but you know it's real when people stop saying "Oh my, you don't look 50!" (except for Overall and Yummy Mummy who keep my ego intact, thanks girls, you're good for the soul.) I should be in Paris but there you go. I'm being very philosophical and focussing only on presents. I would like a back door mat, a toasted sandwich maker and a bottle of Verve Cliquot please.
Most disappointing was the low level of humour waiting for me in my inbox upon my return to work! C'mon you slackos . . lighten my life a little with some funny stuff. And Oirsh, you owe me your blog link!
I didn't manage to have a nice seafud lunch with ClareBear or Babysis as usual - finances are at a premium at the moment to the point where I've consolidated my debt through a five year personal loan. It's obvious the house isn't going to sell in a hurry despite the chains of Beijing Businessmen being shown around the back paddock. I did have a great lunch yesterday with YummyMummy and Overall but BikerGirl couldn't make it unfortunately so it was a small gathering. The only one bad thing about eating at YummyMummy's place is that she's lactose intolerant - oh that mud cake was just begging for a delicious dollup.
Poor YummyMummy, last time we visited it was pissing down, this time we arrived in 35 degree temperatures only to be driven inside by a southerly buster for fear of being blown off the verandah with the porch swing and the pool filter box lid! We were duly entertained by Gabby and the RibbonKid . . . dancing to one of the most obscure children's records (yep actual vinyl thing that goes round and round) Ah, I remember the age of fairy costumes and pinkness - all those ballet lessons, jazz, musical instruments and I've raised a 22 year old with absolutely no talent for any of it, I could have done so much more with the money. Overall and GreekLover are heading off to the States tomorrow I'm really envious, San Fran then the Eastern States, have a great time kids and good luck driving on the wrong side of the road.
Little else to report this week, it has been a homebody week and only one week to the day before I turn 50 - bugger! No celebrations planned, it's a real anti-climax - but you know it's real when people stop saying "Oh my, you don't look 50!" (except for Overall and Yummy Mummy who keep my ego intact, thanks girls, you're good for the soul.) I should be in Paris but there you go. I'm being very philosophical and focussing only on presents. I would like a back door mat, a toasted sandwich maker and a bottle of Verve Cliquot please.
Most disappointing was the low level of humour waiting for me in my inbox upon my return to work! C'mon you slackos . . lighten my life a little with some funny stuff. And Oirsh, you owe me your blog link!
Sunday, October 01, 2006
A Load of Balls
There are 4 codes of Football in Australia. Soccer which isn't huge with anyone over 12 because the competition isn't close by, Rugby Union which is big with the private school mob - apparently it's a gentlemen's game and I have to say that the faces of Union players look a little less worse for wear than some others and they do seem to have half a brain - hell, half of them are lawyers! Then there's Aussie Rules which is only played here but much loved particularly in Western, Southern Australia, Victoria and Tasmania with a single Sydney Team represented on the roster and of course there's Australian National Rugby (thugby) League.
OK I'm a fairweather fan as WEagleWiseMan in Tassie keeps telling me but I couldn't resist revisiting the Mars Bar challenge. Last year SwanGirl and I were bet 2 King Size Mars Bars that the Swans couldn't beat West Coast Eagles in the AFL Grand Final. Of course they hammered them and thus begain a year long limited interest in the outcome of Sydney Swans and the Australian Footbal League (ABL).
Then they hit the grand final yet again with the same adversary - yep you guessed it, West Coast Eagles vs Swans so - bang the gong, we are on . . I did actually watch the game and thought that the Swannies were unlucky to miss the comeback of the year and lost by just one point. Still, that's the great thing about not being too passionate about the game, it doesn't hurt so much when you lose. So WiseMan . . go the Weagles . . your chocolate is in the post!
This afternoon (Sunday) it's more footy final time with the National Rugby League Grand Final but for me this game holds no charm. Just a bunch of badly behaved latent homos grappling each other's inner thigh and sliding over the line hugging their ball . . .truly, it's bizarre. You run a few metres, someone pulls you down, then you have to pass the ball backwards where someone else picks it up and runs a few more metres until someone else pulls them down. It's got to be the most unintelligent sport in the world which probably explains why so many of these bozos end up on advertisements for cheap school outfitters dressed as women or in front of the judiciary for head high tackles (apparently they're worried that damage to the brains of these nit-wits is a real possibility) or being in court for indecent exposure, drunk driving or sexual assault.
Seriously, they have faces that only a mother could love thanks to years of being smashed about with balls and fists (not necessarily in that order). Few have a brain bigger than a pea and yet we get so swept up in Grand Final Fever that all around the country today there are Barbecues galore, pissups aplenty - ClareBear has run away to Seal Rocks for a girly footy free weekend and GymJunkie is sitting on the couch with his Brisbane Broncos costume on waiting for the game to start . . . he's only got 6 hours to go. Me . . well I've hired a nice video and have a bottle chilling in the fridge.
Anyway, for you fanatics, Go the Broncos . . .and well done Weagles . . . I'll toast your health in oooh, about 10 minutes?
OK I'm a fairweather fan as WEagleWiseMan in Tassie keeps telling me but I couldn't resist revisiting the Mars Bar challenge. Last year SwanGirl and I were bet 2 King Size Mars Bars that the Swans couldn't beat West Coast Eagles in the AFL Grand Final. Of course they hammered them and thus begain a year long limited interest in the outcome of Sydney Swans and the Australian Footbal League (ABL).
Then they hit the grand final yet again with the same adversary - yep you guessed it, West Coast Eagles vs Swans so - bang the gong, we are on . . I did actually watch the game and thought that the Swannies were unlucky to miss the comeback of the year and lost by just one point. Still, that's the great thing about not being too passionate about the game, it doesn't hurt so much when you lose. So WiseMan . . go the Weagles . . your chocolate is in the post!
This afternoon (Sunday) it's more footy final time with the National Rugby League Grand Final but for me this game holds no charm. Just a bunch of badly behaved latent homos grappling each other's inner thigh and sliding over the line hugging their ball . . .truly, it's bizarre. You run a few metres, someone pulls you down, then you have to pass the ball backwards where someone else picks it up and runs a few more metres until someone else pulls them down. It's got to be the most unintelligent sport in the world which probably explains why so many of these bozos end up on advertisements for cheap school outfitters dressed as women or in front of the judiciary for head high tackles (apparently they're worried that damage to the brains of these nit-wits is a real possibility) or being in court for indecent exposure, drunk driving or sexual assault.
Seriously, they have faces that only a mother could love thanks to years of being smashed about with balls and fists (not necessarily in that order). Few have a brain bigger than a pea and yet we get so swept up in Grand Final Fever that all around the country today there are Barbecues galore, pissups aplenty - ClareBear has run away to Seal Rocks for a girly footy free weekend and GymJunkie is sitting on the couch with his Brisbane Broncos costume on waiting for the game to start . . . he's only got 6 hours to go. Me . . well I've hired a nice video and have a bottle chilling in the fridge.
Anyway, for you fanatics, Go the Broncos . . .and well done Weagles . . . I'll toast your health in oooh, about 10 minutes?
And how does that make you feel?
Had to go to a course on 28 and 29 September and pretend I'm a financial planner. Apparently as Practice Manager and Marketing guru, it's important for me to really understand how to hook a client and close the sale. So, sitting next to rather sweet man from Melbourne we were a team. It all went very well, the view was great, the food was nice then it all fell apart with role play. I hate it. Pretend your a planner, pretend your a client . . it's such a wank. So we cheated, Melboy and I talked about our personal lives, our dogs then along came the ajudicator so we launched into " . . and so, why did you want to see a financial planner . . . . " and "how does that make you feel . . ". If I never do another role play in my whole life it will be too long.
It is amazing what people will tell you tho. He's married, wife doesn't want kids - happy with the dogs in South Yarra but he's busting for a brood. Poor thing, I had to remind him that by remaining DINKS they save a fabulous 120,000 over 18 years. Mind you, I wouldn't swap mine for a house in Toorak let alone South Yarra.
It is amazing what people will tell you tho. He's married, wife doesn't want kids - happy with the dogs in South Yarra but he's busting for a brood. Poor thing, I had to remind him that by remaining DINKS they save a fabulous 120,000 over 18 years. Mind you, I wouldn't swap mine for a house in Toorak let alone South Yarra.
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