Curiouser and Curiouser

Not An April Fools Joke!

2010-04-01T11:40:00.002+11:00

I miss this.

(Let's just jump in shall we? I mean, pool and sea-wise, I'm usually an incher-in, not a diver-in, but blog-wise, I guess we just have to be brave... no dipping of big toes in here)

A lot's been going on in my world since last I blogged... and so many times over the last eighteen months I've had a post written in my head and it just hasn't happened... and then, as with so much, the longer you leave it, the harder it is to go back.

But oh how I've missed it.

Facebook and Twitter (still don't know how that works either - I mean it's a prefect medium for some, but I find it, I dunno, irrelevant? constrictive?) just don't give the same depth of communication. Or community for that matter.

I miss my blogging friends, and the chance to have a discussion, a real discussion - an exchange of ideas, in less than 140 characters or a 'like' button.

I love yous all. That's it, pretty much.

Testing testing....

2010-03-31T07:46:00.001+11:00

one two

one two

is this thing still on????

Minus Four

2008-10-21T11:40:00.004+11:00

One of these days I'm going to be able to pluck one of the many ideas floating around in my head, and actually take it further than a single sentence... here's hoping anyways...

The Black Cockatoos are back in the tall gum behind my house. This is a sure sign summer is on the way (even surer than the warm temperatures of late, even)... it gladdened my heart and raised my spirits to a ridiculous level when I heard their telltale (and oddly mournful) squawking yesterday morning.

I discovered the other day that it is my intrinsic eccentricity and general air of oddness that attracted my gentleman friend - so yay for quirky then... Hey kids! Stay in School! Say No to drugs! True Love waits! And don't worry about being different... it may only take until you're (almost) 35, but one day someone will take you as you are, so don't go changing or trying to fit in or wearing black nailpolish and going all emo, things will be Good one day...
Of course as this conversation was taking place my internal monologue was all 'Huh. When did I turn into Bridget Jones...? Interesting...'

My take on the Global Financial Crisis... Far Out guys... all it takes is for a few of you to grow some and then we won't be having these issues. Financiers = a bunch of pissweak pansies. Heck, I was married to a Economics Major for 13 years, I know what I'm talking about!

I am taking the Big Girls to a couple of seminars tonight. Those seminars... the ones put on by the school and presented by Interrelate... the 'What's happening to me' and the 'More detail about what's happening to me (Plus all about Wet Dreams)' ones... A think there was a communal 'ewwwww grossssssss!' from the three of us when we read the newsletter. But, its tonight. And it won't be awkward AT ALL. But you never know... I could actually learn something! Stay tuned for Actonb's new insights tomorrow!

Short and Sweet

2008-10-10T08:07:00.002+11:00

I realised this morning that this whole thang is working towards the greater good... You know, a little bit 'everything works for good for those who love the Lord'...

It feels like waking up after a loooonnng sleep and luxuriating in the half-consciousness... stretching and welcoming a new day, a new life... a new me...

Freaking October Already...

2008-10-08T15:27:00.002+11:00

Oh my little blog! How I have missed thee...

I've been doing... stuff.

I've managed to lose ALL my words, so if you happen to see some lying around, please post them to me, pretty please!

Life = A Big Fat Mess.

However my girls are good, I is (overall) good, my boy is good...

Yes, the eagle-eyed will have noticed a possessive pronoun (?) there... I am officially 'In a Relationship' (at least, according to FB, and um, me. And him. And MrB)

More updates to come. I promise. When whoever finds my words has been good enough to return them to me...

Thoughts from the Desk, Unanderra-style

2008-08-14T13:13:00.004+10:00

Am so sleepy....

My little brother needs a hug...

I'm girl-crushing across the universe...

Am having nothing whatsoever to do with this whole Georgia/Russia/South Ossettia thing... because I came out of the conference fug to discover this war going down, and I'm not one for coming in halfway through a series. As far as I'm concerned, it ain't happening until someone sends me the youtube clips so I can catch up...

Is it too late to go get hot chips for lunch? Do I really want hot chips for lunch? By the time I've made up my mind, it'll be too late, I just know it.

Aw crap...

Peanut butter on toasted muffins it is, I guess...

Mmmmmm.... Black Jacks...

Ewwww.... Bank Reconciliations...

1 Cor 7??? NEXT!

Assumptions

2008-08-13T14:21:00.003+10:00

So... an attempt to correct some misapprehensions that I may have contributed to the forming of...

Far out - the perils of posting while every so slightly relaxed... well, don't be afreared - that ain't gonna happen again in a hurry.

The Mirena - while indeed a contraceptive IUD is also used to regulate menstrual periods... and is the first step in me attempting to avert a hysterectormy before I'm 36. Because you see, in layman's terms, I have a wonky uterus. It's all fun around these (lady) parts....

My own personal muso gets along just fine with my own personal dancer - they are both as cute as buttons and live in my back pocket... and both wear pink ties...*

I have been neck-deep in organising a conference for the last however long, and it finally happened last week - and despite the band STILL trying to fuck it up for me on the night, it all went off without a hitch. Yay! And I've come through the other side considerably older and wiser, but having danced my arse off on Saturday Night... It's a win/win situation.

Pah!

Notes from a Random Tuesday

2008-08-05T18:32:00.003+10:00

Impartial observations on The Day from Hell:

Two glasses of Limestone Coast Chardonnay (Unwooded Of course) does a perfectly acceptable dinner make...

9 year-olds: they sometimes forget to turn their brains on. This may or may not lead to the involvement of DOCS.*

10 (but almost 11, in like 2 weeks already) year olds: they see and understand a hell of a lot more than the average person would think.

Said 10 year old: she is awesome.

Said 10 year old: also allergic to ticks.

Mirenas come in ridiculously long packaging leading to much amusement for Pharmacists...

Commonwealth Health Care Cards rock!

Single Mother-hood: also rocks!

How daggy is it when 'treating oneself' is actually getting a subscription to BBC History magazine?

4 year olds sitting on one's lap, singing completely unidentifiable and toneless songs, make blogging all that specialer. Especially if they've just built you an awesome Lego tower and can spell their own names...

Musicians (but not my musician, oh ok, I guess him too sometimes.**..) can be arrogant, rude and smug on occasion.

Knowing (and to be continually affirmed that) I made the right decision: Priceless!

* It didn't, but you know it could have... Grrrrrrr.... Bloody Miss H.

** But only when in supremely uber-muso mode. Which isn't often. And which is also kinda cute. But which also requires me to not be in uber-pedant mode. It's all about the stars being in alignment, baby...

polyrofl

2008-08-04T20:17:00.004+10:00

Oh geez! This is what I have stooped to... LOLCATS... Although I guess all the cool kids are doin' it, hey INC?

But this is for all those long-term readers of C&C... and for poor Mr Inigo who hasn't had any bunny snacks for such an age...

A Dose of Monday Grrr-ness

2008-08-04T14:27:00.002+10:00

I desperately want to get the sad and maudlin off these pages... but I guess in order for that to happen, I have to get rid of the sad and maudlin in my life. And after this weekend, I can't see that happening any time fast.

A Big Fat GAHHH! at life in general. Life, it can just FOAD as far as I'm concerned. Heee..... that's the Life! Be in it! slogan updated for the Naughties...

I really do feel like Alice in Wonderland at the moment... life is taking on the most surreal aspects - probably most perfectly encapsulated in my supremely girly day on Friday when I took myself off to the beauty salon for a facial, (cos when you have a Gala Dinner to attend in a strapless dress, your entire face and neck are going to explode in mass pustulating zits, ain't that the truth?)... apart from giggling madly at the beautician's use of the word 'decolletage', I had the bizarre experience of lying there, my face covered in goop, the lights down low, my head being massaged, listening to that typical 'spa' music - all panpipes and bird songs when all of a sudden the forest glade disappeared and the Flight of the Conchords 'If you're into it' comes over the PA... and then, as soon as it had finished, and I was snorting like a twit, the panpipes are back and it's like nothing had ever happened...

weird, man...

Oh. And I've finished watching S1 of Gossip Girl... well all bar the LAST FIVE MINUTES!

grrr....

Ha! And I went on a bike-ride for the first time in like a GAZILLION years... and didn't fall off. Much.

Youtube... you know you want to.

After this week, things may start getting better.. I'll get my life back at least. Kindasorta. Oh, hell, who really knows?

This post brought to you by the kickarse combination of stress, hormones and chocolate.

Battle Scars

2008-07-21T12:02:00.004+10:00

I'm discovering that the human body is capable of withstanding a great deal of emotional turmoil and torment... that keeping one's upper lip stiff and just getting on with it is somewhat easier that I had dreaded it would be... Unfortunately there's always an Achilles Heel, always a weak point, always a spot deep deep down where the armour just isn't quite strong enough to repel that sniper shot.

And so it is that I spent a good deal of last night in the arms of a friend, sobbing wretchedly as my heart was breaking...

I suspect it may have been a delayed reaction to this whole damn mess, as it was a response in magnificent disproportion to the incident which triggered it. Or maybe not. You see, I suddenly discovered yesterday, that while I have been playing this fun game of Co-Parenting with an honest and heart-felt desire to do the best by my children, I may have been playing blindfolded. Because I took the blindfold off to discover that lines have been drawn and sides picked and choices made, while I had been travelling along in my usual clueless state.

I'm just so damn hurt. And being vague. Again.

Because we're all being manipulated. Again.

And it sucks.

To be fair though, I guess over the last few months I've made a few choices of my own which have been surprising and yet strangely reminiscent of a Ewan McGregor monologue..... And I guess we're right back at the beginning, in silent contemplation of the enduring capacity of the human animal.

Two Words

2008-06-27T10:37:00.003+10:00

Actually threee.

Clare Bowditch = AWESOME.

Completely, Utterly, Intensely, and for evermore....

Awesome.

I want to marry her in California with Arnie as Matron-of-Honour, so insane is my girl crush on her.

So, um, that's it.

What's going down with you?

Post-lunch brain-drain

2008-06-20T12:50:00.003+10:00

A few things to add to general discussion:

* I found more LPs (when I visited my parents' place and rifled through their record collection, currently housed in my old yellow toy box): MJ 'Bad', The Bangles 'Different Light', De La Soul '3 Feet High and Rising' and The Proclaimers 'Sunshine on Leith'. I do believe that brings my total record collection to 15! Woot! I rock!

* I'm taking my baby girl to her first gig tonight - to see Kimya Dawson at Manning Bar. She's ultra excited, I'm ultra excited, there shall be squeeing indeed.

* Clare Bowditch comes to Bulli next week and I have tickets. Come, let us all rejoice.

* Claypots: They can get hot when placed in a hot oven. Hotness + damp towel = really really sore hand. Der.

* However, contents of aforementioned claypot turned out to be awesome... It was one of those 'I just made this up' recipes - Pork spareribs, or rashers or whatever you want to call them, cooked with roasted capsicum and fresh tomato and left for an hour or so... so so good, even the twins who are quite averse to the whole 'meat' idea, or rather 'anything that requires any degree of commitment to chewing' at the moment, were gobbling it up.

* I have a super-fun day of curtain-making tomorrow. It's going to be, um, frenzied? What with all that cutting and hemming that needs to be done down in Berry. Grrrr....

* I'm thinking about doing a further cull of Facebook friends - and then updating my details to include a link to this here little old blog - not too sure why. I guess to some extent I feel more secure now in my indentity/anonymity/whateverity than I did pre-separation. Which is odd, and furthermore makes No Sense. But I'm kinda going with the flow. I may regret this later.

* Excel: It does more than you think it does.

Foot-Stamping

2008-06-20T10:11:00.000+10:00

The tone in the last post probably left a lot to be desired... sorry about that. But things just ain't all sunshine and skittles, y'know, and trying to bring the light and fluffy doesn't always work. And no, keeping it all angst-free doesn't count, seeing as I'm a sucker for the maudlin at the best of times.

I'm just pissed.

And hurt.

And know that things will be getting worse before they get better, but better they will get.

It all takes time, and if I have an outburst every now and then, then I'm allowed to dammit.

Ahem

Facebook Retribution

2008-06-13T16:28:00.003+10:00

Last night I made a phone call and drew some lines.

In sand, and under, um, things.

Lines.

You see, apparently, 14 years of knowing someone means not a jot - to 'them' my identity was and, it seems, remains, simply an entity, as 'wife' to MrB. And as I am no longer in a relationship with MrB, I therefore have no relationship with 'them'. I had kinda figured this out, what with the complete lack of concern or, indeed, any contact whatsoever from the 'In-Laws' since this whole thing went down. But I had hoped that they knew me better... that they must know there had to be a reason for me to do what I did.

But apparently the spin is: Actonb is unstable and in need of professional help.

Awesome.

It seems that some people are failing to realise that in order for 'this' to work, and there being no readily-accessible roadmap or rulebook to consult, there kinda needs to be a relationship of sorts between us all - if only for the sake of the children. So yeah, I will be civil, I will be pleasant, I will be the bigger person here... but man, if they want to bring the Bitch, then honey, I got game...

So, phone conversation over, I did what every 21st century grrrl does:

I unfriended them all on Facebook. Every single last one of 'em.*

That'll learn 'em.

* It might help at this point to imagine that line from Pulp Fiction. You know, that, line...

Girl Friday

2008-06-06T14:23:00.003+10:00

A dose of Friday Randomness... because the caffeine's worn off and I'm feeling decidedly seedy - the seediness one feels when one hasn't slept well because one's children are spending their first night at Daddy's new place and one is prone to histrionic fits of freaking-the-hell-out.

So... moving right along then?

* I have discovered, that rather like Prufrock, I am measuring out my life in coffee spoons, or, um fortnights. How quickly one falls into the surreal calendar of access visits. It's odd. And disquieting. But oh! the mixed feelings when His weekend falls again and the children are gone... the silence is bliss, the emptiness agony.

* My musical horizons are growing ever wider - I have been on a downloading (legal!) spree, and have my iPod charged with Clare Bowditch, Death Cab for Cutie, Rooney (when Miss E sends me the discs) and even some Jeff Buckley (don't ask). Further suggestions are welcome - this finding of new music is very empowering...

* I heard some Prince today at lunchtime - always a pleasure to unexpectedly hear some Prince I find - but kinda odd to hear it coming from a Truck Repair Shop.

* I went to see the Brandenburg Orchestra and Choir the other day - 50 boy trebles in their long socks and blazers contributed to my aural bliss. They also managed to send my companion to sleep. But only momentarily... The combination of champagne + cold'n'flu medication + empty stomach = interesting cultural experience... it gives the notes an almost tangible aspect, as I absorb them into my very soul. Unfortunately the aforementioned combination can also lead to melodrama later in the evening. But that is neither here nor there.

* The long weekend beckons wetly, yet promising comfort.

I am making the most of it.

Yo DJ!

2008-06-05T13:32:00.003+10:00

I was sorting through my record collection last night.

Like actual vinyl, man...

It was yet another step in the gradual unravelling of a previous life.

Anyhoo, momentary angst aside, my 'collection' amounts to 11 LPs*... and what an interesting bunch they are too...

* Hothouse Flowers 'Home'
* Eurythmics 'Savage'
* Peter, Paul & Mary 'Some anniversary collection - dunno... maybe 25th?'
* Madonna 'Like a Prayer'
* Get On This! (It was an import! From 1990!)
* The Pogues 'Red Roses for Me'
* UB40 'Best of... Vol 1'
* Nik Kershaw 'Radio Musicola'
* Dexy's Midnight Runners 'Too-Rye-Ay'
* Tour of Duty Soundtracks (both 1 AND 2) (and yet... I never was allowed to actually watch Tour of Duty... go figure)

Ideas on what this collection says about me (other than I am completely confused, which is apparent to all and sundry) will be gratefully received...

* Thankfully Michael Jackson's 'Bad' LP seems to have disappeared. It's probably still at my parents house along with Bros' self-titled opus.

Why a little Self-Knowledge is a Bad Thing #67

2008-06-03T09:52:00.003+10:00

Last night I was discussing with a friend the real and urgent desire I have to be able to fall back into a routine, to lose the sense of disconnection, of aimless drifting that is beleaguering me... yet knowing that Back is somewhere I actually don't want to go... for There Be Dragons. So actually, what I'm yearning for is a New routine, a Future...

He said that he was looking forward to the day I was able to sharpen my snark and lose the endless angst.

And yet, we're not there yet - the angst is still my constant companion, still my only friend, still whispering in my ear at my lowest of ebbs. And so, gentle reader, I must beg for your patience a little longer...

For some reason best known to that part of my mind which has a tendency toward self-abuse, I have started re-reading The Scarlet Letter*. Thankfully the part of my mind that craves literary analysis managed to win the mental arm wrestle, and I got side-tracked into reading the Introduction, and then got side-tracked further into congratulating myself over being the type of person whose first reaction to the name 'Salem' is 'Arthur Miller' rather than 'Sabrina' or 'DOOL'... because I really am that pretentious. Or rather, the steam in my extremely hot bath (like headache creating hot (that self-abuse streak is pretty strong, obvs)) can make me that pretentious....

or not, as the case may be...

You see, I was reminded of this capacity for toe-curling pretension the other day as I was driving with a friend (another one!) to Canberra with the Big Girls to see the Turner to Monet exhibition ( Miss H's birthday present (oh crap! Just realised that I'm grooming the girls to be even worse than me...)). We were having one of those wandering-all-over-the-place conversations that happened stop momentarily on the subject of Robert Lowell. Not sure why... Oh yes! I've just remembered how that hideous man elbowed his way into our conversation... We drove past a Boarding Kennel/ Pet Cemetery (hee!) = Evelyn Waugh's 'The Loved One' = TS Eliot 'The Wasteland' = Robert Lowell. And the following exchange ensued:

Jude: Do you still hate him Actonb?
Me: Yep.
Jude: Why?
Me: Cos he's an insufferably wanky American Wanker.
Jude: Oh. So you've not mellowed any since Year 12 then...
Me: Nah.
Jude: Can you explain why you don't like him?
Me: Apart from the fact that he was an insufferably wanky American Wanker with massive entitlement issues and an inability to remove his own wanky and entitled voice from his poems?

*beat*

Nope.

Jude: Ahhh... Yes. Quite. Remember what you said to me when we walked out of the English (Related) HSC exam?
Me: Nope.
Jude: I asked if you'd answered the 'gimme', the easiest question on the paper, even though it was a Lowell question... when the Keats alternative was the HARDEST question on the paper...
Me: yeah.... and....?
Jude: You answered 'I wouldn't prostitute myself by writing about Lowell'.
Me: Dear Lord, what a pretentious git I was/am.
Jude: Er... yes... this is something we know.

I also remember my English teacher rushing up to me, pleading that I hadn't answered the Jane Eyre question, seeing as we hadn't actually studied it... and me having to admit that I had vaguely considered it.

Sheesh! I am a literary LOSER.

*some of you will nod knowingly, some of you will raise your eyebrows, most of you won't care, but all of you will be wrong.

Haberdashery

2008-05-20T10:32:00.002+10:00

One of the beautiful thing about writing is trying to catch the elusive Words threading their way through your mind like silken ribbons... gently flicking you with their tails as they pass by, glimpsing them from the corner of your mind's eye, floating merrily and laughingly just out of reach as you mentally dash around trying to gather them in a golden butterfly net...

It's one of those maddeningly fun things about this thing what we do, no?

Knowing your limits

2008-05-09T10:39:00.002+10:00

This story amuses me greatly:

A drunk 22-year-old woman on her P-plates has crashed into a McDonald's restaurant in Sydney's west while trying to negotiate the restaurant's drive-through, police say. The woman - who returned a blood alcohol level more than six times the legal limit for a fully-licenced driver - drove her Toyota Starlet into the drive-through of the restaurant on Harold Street, Macquarie Fields, about 2.45pm, police said.
While trying to negotiate the drive-through she smashed into a brick pole, severely damaging it and exposing electrical wires, police said.
The restaurant has had to close the drive-through until it is deemed safe to use.

It brings to mind the rite of passage that Maccas have been advertising recently - the getting of one's 'P's' and the driving of one (with one's non-driving friends, in one's mother's Cortina (that may just be me)) to the nearest Golden Arches for the getting of Drive Thru. Maccas chips, sorry, fries, never test as good as when they've been passed through that tiny window directly to YOU in the Driver's seat. (Again, this may just be me).

Anywa, what amuses me most about the story is the fact that I have enough trouble negotiating the Drive-Thru lane as it is... attempting to do it while completely slaughtered is..., well, let's just say I admire her ambition and persistence. Also HA!

*snort*

*craves chips. yes. chips*

Mandatory Reporting

2008-05-08T21:54:00.003+10:00

I am a big fat enabler, a pusher even, of illegality.

I must come here and lay my burden down, admit my sin and beg the forgiveness, or at least the understanding of my peers...

I have been downloading tv from the interwebs (um ah...)

and if that weren't bad enough, this evening I toddled off downstairs to enjoy myself some iniquity (with a cup of tea and a lemon tartlet to sustain me) of the Gossip Girl variety (Bloody Chesty - she's been haranguing me to watch GG and I finally succumbed to the Peer Pressure)... but I was waylaid en route to the study by Miss M. She knew that I had downloaded the Dr Who Children in Need special and demanded that I initiate her in the ways of the tv-on-the-puter viewingness.

I hesitated for barely a moment before agreeing to let her watch just this one tiny ep, a snippet that would do her no harm, and besides, it's not like the ABC will ever show the Children In Need special...

Before I knew it, Miss H was also ensconced in the comfy chair of Swivel and they were hooked. The CiN Special was over in what seemed like seconds and they were hungry for more, refusing to go to bed until I had supplied them with more pilfered Dr Who...

And what's a poor beleaguered yet indulgent single mother to do??? Sit and watch the Dr Who Christmas Special with them, that's what! The Special Guest-Star was Kylie Minogue - 'Gee Kylie looks old' says I 'and what an odd accent she's using'... 'Who's Kylie Minogue' says Miss H... Which made me feel every inch the tea-drinking, biscuit-nibbling, slipper-wearing OLD PERSON that I so obviously am...

Anyhoo - they're hooked, and not listening to reason and demanding that they watch MORE Dr Who tomorrow...

What have I created?????

stuffing

2008-05-04T18:51:00.003+10:00

My brain seems incapable of formulating more than a sentence at a time, so dot-pointy goodness shall have to suffice until I Get Things Together (somewhat more than they are at the moment, obvs...)

* Happiness is being elbow-deep in tomatoes - skinning, seeding, chopping - making roasted tomato sauce for spinach & ricotta cannelloni for my girls.

* Said Happiness is increased at least six-fold if there are not one but two curries simmering away on the stove for later in the week...

* Musing... Is it your pre-menstrual state or are they just being a dick?

* I've been dancing around my kitchen like some demented Hillsonger to Jars of Clay's Redemption Songs, arms in the air, praising my Lord... because it's right, dammit. And because I am. Redeemed. By His Blood.

So there.

* Tiny Steps for womanhood this week, in my world anyways... I mowed the lawns, cleared up the carcass (mostly feathers as it turns out) of a generic Bird that was dragged into Slaughterhouse 5 (aka the downstairs bathroom), and cleaned the fish tank. All of these usually being MrB's jobs, and subject to clear demarkation. "I don't need no stinking man" may or may not have gone through my head as I did these things...

* The above line may or may not be construed as gloating by a certain person and I request he takes it in the dot-pointy spirit in which it was written. ie, chill the fuck out.

* Proof that the Sadness manifest in me knows no bounds: I saw the news about the SYTYCD tour and squeeeed. Out loud. Very very loudly. Belt-tightening? What belt-tightening? Chesty, do you know of anything of this 'belt-tightening'?????

* Today I had more than one close encounter of the Red Back kind. And while being momentarily struck by how beautiful a spider they are, I didn't hesitate to kill them.Which kinda makes me sad/ freaked out/ determined not to buy any more plantpots with spider-house-sized lips in equal measures.

* In super amazing awesome news, a dress that I thought I had given to charity a year or so ago, I discovered in the linen trunk in my room today. I had obviously decided said dress was to be handed down to my daughters, being a gorgeous charcoal grey wool shift type number. The awesome amazingness comes due to the fact that I now fit into said dress again, for the first time since the very very brief period between weaning Miss M and falling pregnant with Miss H.

* I shall be rocking it, oh yes I shall. Girls (you know who you are), lets organise a drinks/dancing thang pronto!

...and now my bestest friend in the whole wide world is on the phone so I must away....

Rude Boys Outa Jail

2008-04-11T10:12:00.002+10:00

I'm having a week to myself... It's MrB's weekend with the girls, and as school holidays start today, he's staying for the week to spend some 'Quality' time with them...

This means I get to go away - all by myself - to Berry for the week. And there's no interwebz down there, so I shall be forced to, um, I'm not sure.... do something else?

I'm going to get The Book of the Month today... so that's one thing.

I also have the first two seasons of West Wing, care of the gracious Gigglewick. And the first season of Supernatural, care of my own weakness for Sam'n'Dean...

There may even be skinny dipping, just for the hell of it, and because I don't care about being perved on by stray cows and kangaroos...

It shall be fun*. And right now? Fun is what I need.

*Like flying into work with The Specials blaring, startling random Factory Guys... that was kinda fun too!

Every Day With Randomness

2008-04-08T14:16:00.002+10:00

I love and Adore Blondie - I may have discussed this on one or two occasions before (I'm wondering whether I've also discussed my inability to spell occasssionss? Cos it always looks wrong, even when spelled correctly... and I'm pretty sure it's not correct in either of these instances)

Anyways, Blondie. Love.

What I don't love however, is her need to insert random Frenchness into her songs*. Tis very wankful and annoying particularly when French is one of the languages I chose NOT to learn at school, therefore leaving me with no option but to sing along basically going 'blahdy blahdy blah' in a Frarnch accent.

Although, while randomly choosing to speak in a French accent for periods of time ranging from 2 minutes to an entire afternoon is something I have been known to do, at least I know that I'm doing in jest (and also maybe in an attempt to piss someone off (hmmm... could this have anything to do with my current marital problems... Discuss)) and not because I'm a dirty dirty post-punk, platinum blond Francophile hipster with a high tolerance for Wank.

Now go listen to Denis (or is that Denneeee?). You know you want to...

* And not just Denis - but bloody Sunday Girl and at least one other that I can't think of right this very second. Grrr...

Deep Breaths....

2008-04-04T18:46:00.002+11:00

and...

Phew...

So, yeah disappearing posts and whatnot, just adding to the general air of mystery surrounding this blog of late... Sorry about that. I received a late-night (well mid-afternoon, but late night at point of origin) phone call from a Concerned Reader who felt that the tone of the post left a lot to be desired. I guess I didn't manage to express the, well, inexpressible sadness in my heart too well.... pfft! And I call myself a writer! (Well, I don't actually, but for the purposes of this sentence, just assume I do...) I may put it back up at some point. I may not. It's the new 'Devil-may-care' attitude I'm rocking... you convinced???

Basically, I asked MrB to leave. I'm not happy about this. Nobody needs to know the whys and wherefores. They only need to know that I think I'm doing the Right Thing, and that in doing so I am making my children a priority.

That's it in a nutshell.

And may explain the total 'Not-Goodness' vibe that has been permeating these parts.

And I believe completely that Things will be OK.

That is all.

And now, hopefully, normal transmission can resume shortly.

As it is.

2008-03-30T12:10:00.005+11:00

This was taken down after someone who I love dearly and knows me better than most accused me of gloating. I'm not sure that he was correct, and have decided that time has allowed for a chance to re-appraise.

*******

All of these cryptic and darkly-foreboding posts of late must have been vaguely fulfilling for those readers of C&C with more masochist tendencies...

It seems that I may be coming through that period of late whereby the darkness and the dread, the pain and the confusion threatened to overwhelm me - where all hope and joy was being sucked into a great mass of turmoil - a Dementor's Kiss indeed - and where all I wished was for that fade to black...

And so it comes to pass that the House of B undergoes a revolution, a bloodless coup, and becomes the House of Girl. Oh, would that it were bloodless - but the bleeding has to go unseen for the sake of the B-lets.

Hope, Equilibrium, Peace - those ever-elusive things...

And yet, and yet...

I am suddenly able to write, suddenly able to glimpse, briefly, as the mists lift momentarily, a fragment of the future, the soft glow over the horizon...

Home.

Yellow Daisies

2008-03-17T15:08:00.002+11:00

Yes, yes... I know I haven't updated in an age...

And it's not just the time it's taken for me to recover from the shock of realising what deep deep ignorance most of you are living in...

How empty must your lives be if they are bereft of the knowledge of Jensen Ackles???

Far out peoples!

But Mex knows me, Mex understands me...

*sigh*

So yeah, things. They are crap.

In a word.

I may be needing to take this private soonish. If you want to be added to the exclusive list of C&C readers, then drop me an email... You have until wednesday night...

And I'm wondering if it's at all possible to have made this post and more disjointed/dark and mysterious/ downright confusing????

Just a coz

2008-03-03T10:25:00.003+11:00

Things seem to have gone somewhat to crap around these parts.

Therefore, all I can do is share the Pretty.

Shoes. Imelda. Life

2008-02-23T20:52:00.003+11:00

So, I went to Miranda Fair (big fat Grrrrr) to buy some shoes for Miss M, who is one (European) size smaller than me, and thinks it all highly amusing...

I was in the market for some shoes for myself, having done a clear-out and binned a load of shoes I haven't worn in years. We went to Myers, we went to DJs, we went to Mollini, but nothing was grabbing me, y'know...

And then, Nine West... we walked in and I wasn't just grabbed, I was clasped to a bosom and embraced to within an inch of my life. I don't think I have ever bought a pair of shoes with less hesitation in my life...

Behold!

Yeah, MrB isn't a fan, but Miss M and I love them so very very very much.

They are my rockstar shoes.

I think it's the cheeky little notch out of the wedge that does it.

Bliss.

Oh! The humanity!

2008-02-22T12:21:00.005+11:00

I would prefer it if no-one would mention the enormous ICAC* shaped elephant in the room....

Just don't, mmkay?

If anyone needs me, I'll be lunching at the Table of Knowledge down the local kebab shop...

ETA: Iemma's 'gut instinct' is to sack the council... The Hon. Premier probs doesn't want to know what my gut instinct in relation to him and his god-awful government is then... This isn't taking away from the fact that, yes, sacking the entire council and starting again isn't a Good Thing. I do believe I may have railed against them in the past... oh yes, I have history with WCC.

* And yes, please do read all the related stories... whoever said Wollongong was just a sleepy little backwater, hey?

Brain fluff

2008-02-19T10:06:00.003+11:00

I'm a little distracted, a little here, a little there right now...

So I'll give you a taste of what it's like to live with my brain:

Kovco: I think (both) Mrs Kovco are discovering that sometimes it is good to be careful what you wish for...

Kokoda: Paternalism, Colonialism... We seriously need to get over ourselves. Stat!

Nose Piercings: Coming along quite nicely - infection shortlived. Am deliriously happy. Am particularly chuffed that Miss M wants to get her nose done.

Easterfest08: I wanna goooo..... But I can't. Hopefully MrB will be able to take the Big Girls, but logistics are a serious bitch.

Rudd: Awesomeness personifed. Plus, also 1 Cor 13 shout-out! yayness to the extreme...

SYTYCDA: *sob* *sigh* the weight of disappointment... Man! I'm as needy as bloody Vanessa...

Yum Cha: There is a serious BBQ pork bun shaped hole in my life...

Charlie Brooker: Making me embrace my inner pom.

So, how you doin?

Words Shmwords

2008-02-15T08:45:00.005+11:00

A dear friend told me the other day that they loved what I did with words. This made me inordinately happy... but of course, the comment only came after they'd had to admit to plagiarising me... and with the promise of more generic plagiarising to come...

But it got me to thinking about words, and why I love them, and why it's words that make me blog. And then I realised it was Valentine's Day, so decided relevance was in order...

Now there just so happens to be a group of words that I just adore - that make me deliriously happy - and they're not those high-falutin' happy words like love, passion, squishy or squelchy...

no....

It's probably the linguistics nerdery manifesting itself, but the words that really get my semantic juices going include

notwithstanding
albeit
heretofore
henceforth
undersigned (God, I love to be an undersigned)
thereafter
hereafter
happilyeverafter (OK, this one's not for real)

I really want to throw antidisestablishmentarianism in there as well, but unfortunately it was tainted by my Primary School Principal dissecting it in class. ewwww.

I suppose it could be the fact that I did German for 6 years and they love joining bits of words together. It just seems to me to be so... impulsive.. and pulse-quickening... and ....

You know that scene in A Fish Called Wanda, where John Cleese (mmmm, John Cleese) is seducing Jamie Lee Curtis by speaking Russian? Or where Kevin Kline (mmm Kevin Kline) is doing the seduction by speaking French? Yeah...

*mind wanders through wildly inappropriate day dreams*

Ahem, sorry, actually, the Russian would probably work on me just as well, but for the purpose of this post, you just have to replace it with those words....

Man! It's lucky I decided not to follow the Law... I don't think I'd get any work done...

A life? I need to get one? You're kidding!

2008-02-07T16:18:00.000+11:00

...and sydney makes three.

Hopefully now everyone knows, I'll stop the blatant blog-whoring!

Stay tuned for actual pertinent, thought-provoking posts... I promise there will actually be some come to a blog near you sometimes soon!

Things like the mining on Kokoda. I have opinions. They're probably UnAustralian, but we're all used to that...

I wanna DANCE with somebody...

2008-02-06T16:58:00.000+11:00

Episode 2 of SYTYCD up now.

You know, they say what doesn't kill you can only make you stronger...

I guess we'll find out if this is true soon enough - for there's another ep on tonight...

Enjoy!

Wine...

2008-02-06T07:36:00.000+11:00

Do you know what it does to you?

I sent an SMS asking this very question to a number of friends* last night and not one of them got the answer right...

That answer being that Bad Day + Wine = Total Memory lapse.

You see, I got a phone call at about 8:10 last night...

"Hello Actonb, this is Brooke" said, well, Brooke, in a particularly stern school-marmish way. The meaning she conveyed in those 5 little words was potent...

Brooke is my hairdresser. And she knows me so very well. And yes, I was supposed to be getting my hair cut at 8pm, and instead I was poottling about on the internetz...

So I had to rouse MrB from his Den of Iniquity (or, like, his study) and get him to zip me up to Woonona. He was just the slightest bit completely unimpressed about this.

Whereas I thought it was all very amusing.

Until he told me I would be walking home. In the dark. And the rain.

pfft! I didn't care... especially seeing as I had a glass of champagne instead of my usual flat white, and had a most animated chat with Brooke about all manner of crap.

Then I discovered, to my shame and to the detriment of the entire planet, that it's only a 12 minute walk from my place to the salon. Although granted that 12 minutes did include a fantastic burst of speed whereby I pretended to be an Olympic Champion Walker, complete with Olympic Champion Bum Waggle and chicken dance arms.

What? Wouldn't you, if given the opportunity to indulge in a bit of spectacular Walking????

All in all I had a surprisingly good night's sleep last night.

*Friends who have names at the beginning of the alphabet which is all I could get to until I was distracted/ lost interest/ called to the basin... Maybe if I'd gone for the other end I would have got some correct answers...

Not only, but...

2008-02-05T19:34:00.000+11:00

Also...

Grrrrr...

Blame it on the yummy Margaret River Riesling.

And the Rain.

And Milli Vanilli.

WTF?

2008-02-05T18:56:00.000+11:00

The f***?

He's not going to Lambeth?????

Can SOMEONE tell me how this is going to help things?

Far Out! And people wonder why I'm not a Sydney Anglican anymore...

And This, Mr Jensen, godly and loving brother though you may be... doesn't cut it.

The waiting is over....

2008-02-05T14:11:00.000+11:00

The first recap for the aus version of SYTYCD is up!

Is everyone as excited as I am????

Oh please Lord, don't let this be crap - I have so much invested in this show!

Fringe Benefits

2008-02-04T16:18:00.000+11:00

We moved offices at the end of last year, moving from suburban Shire - complete with 4 crappy cafes and one aweseome Thai place - to Industrial Illawarra.

The benefits are:

Closer to work (20 minutes on a bad day!)

The downsides are:

Working in an Industrial Estate where the only food servery is 'Try our Buns' (or "show us your buns" as I insist on calling it, for some unknown, inexplicable reason) - this your typical sandwich operation - opens early and closes at 2. So if, as is often the case, I completely forget to eat lunch at a reasonable hour, I'm stuffed*.

But this all pales into insignificance when one realises the true benefit of the move...

Awesome Perving Opportunities.

The engineering firm next door lets out at 3:30, and everyday there is one twentysomething guy who trundles out in his overalls (with extra-special Hi-Viz patches!) and strips down right outside my window. He is obviously a neat freak who doesn't want dirt and grime on his fluffy car seats, so he dumps the dirty overalls in the boot, pulls on some shorts and then drives away...

Every Single Day.

I'm trying not to look, but it's turning into a competetion with myself to guess what colour undies he's wearing that day - I swear his mum has bought him a pack of those 7 day colour-coordinated ones.

He even did it this afternoon in the pouring rain...

Not that I was looking....

Golly is it getting hot in here...?

Sheesh! It's hardly surprising my subconscious has renamed the sandwich bar...

*Eh - It's a default diet, I can live with that...

So... (An Update)

2008-02-03T14:57:00.000+11:00

The last couple of days have been all very interesting... with even more introspection than is normal for a melancholic like me. I have even learned a thing or two...

The first of which is that, real or imaginary, my friends are very wise. The comments left in response to my initial post really gladdened me, they touched me, because they were so... personal. They weren't empty platitudes, but the words of true friends, people who know me... and that has brought an interesting perspective to my thinking on these things. And I'm going to quote them here, because not everyone reads the comments - especially when you're reading in bloglines or google reader - I know because I am a terrible culprit in that regard...

GW said:

Bumping into people you knew before always does that.
It isn't histrionics, it's just that it's almost impossible to block out the high expectations of yourself you had as a pre-pubescent aspirant world-changer.

And she hit the nail right on the head - it was about the fact that at 17 I was such an idealist, so anxious to forge a life that so different to my parents and to my contemporaries...

I.Sirius added:

dilute or distill?
I'm not the person I was but the person I am.
So are you for which I am thankful.

And that was kinda nice, seeing as he's the one who started all of this...

INC's attempt made me laugh:

I was going to leave a long and helpful comment but after the fourth draft it was still sounding pompous, so I deleted it. Instead, please accept accept this virtual long distance hug.

And then he followed it up with an SMS that made me cry...

And Mizanthrop made perfect sense when she pointed out:

I'm a little wary of sounding pompous too ... so please pardon me if I'm being presumptuous, but..You've had a lot to deal with recently, grief, extra work, christmas, car travel with children...good or bad they're all stressful.
Perhaps it's understandable if life leaves you feeling a little despondent right now?

And there were virtual hugs galore :)

*****

Sifting through the myriad yearnings, confusions and whatnots, it dawned on me that really, I didn't want to be a 17 year old again after all... that teenagers are intrinsically selfish - even the most altruistic, world-changing idealist is still only doing it for ultimately selfish reasons. That's the beauty and attraction of adolescents - they are pure and unadulterated them - most of them haven't been slapped about the face by Life yet - haven't had the fervent hope gently leached out of them by the passage of time and disappointments...

Life, when it boils down to it, is really all about relationships... And relationships, well, they're about compromise... And compromise? It's the enemy of selfishness.

So I guess, when you consider that Life, while gently diluting the essential Essence of You, has actually been making you a wiser, pleasanter person to be with and to be near, then Growing Up can't be a bad thing after all...

And after I put my finger on the fact fact that the one thing that 17 year old me would consider to be my biggest sell out was that I'm a Colarado-wearing soccer-mom - with an emphasis on the Colorado - then the scales fell from my eyes. Because friends, that is something I can do something about!

Wonk

2008-02-02T17:58:00.000+11:00

I broke my toe on Christmas Day - walked into a motherf**** hammock stand. And yes, it does require expletives because

a) it was a massive heavy wooden hammock stand and,
b) I was very restrained when I did it...

My father and PossumBoy were in a paddling pool 'amusing' my younger daughters - said 'amusement' consisted of daughters pouring water over Grandad and squealing with delight - hey, it kept them amused in the 43 temp, so I was pretty happy...

Until they decided that one cup between two didn't go so I turned to get another cup... and collected the hammock stand in the process.

My toe cracked.

PossumBoy and Dad had a conversation regarding the loudness of the crack and the probability that it may be broken... while remaining in the pool.

I got the cup - tossed it to the child, and collapsed in a sobbing heap.

The bruising covered my entire foot and made life quite, um, difficult for a while. It's now kinda mank and wonky with a funny ridge where my toe joins the rest of my foot. And I am considering legal action against the owner of the guilty hammock stand...

Anyway, the moral of the story, is that it's now also apparently a magnet for any piece of furniture or random falling item in the house - I've bashed it every day this week and today managed to drop a 3L bottle of juice on it.

I reckon there's a PhD study in there somewhere...

They can also study the reasoning as to why I won't take pain killers because 'it's only a toe'...

Kiss Chasey

2008-02-01T10:21:00.000+11:00

This heckler from the SMH caught my eye and burrowed itself into my mind...

...Still, there's one thing that I just can't seem to nail: to kiss or not to kiss? Socially, that is.

At my first job, I was horrified to find farewells and birthdays fraught with social kissing. As I maneuvered away from the scrum, I'd offer a cheery wave, but it never seemed enough.

When a newfound friend picked me up for a gallery visit and planted one on me, I was shocked and kept a steely eye on her all afternoon. As my social network grew, so did the dread. Days before social gatherings, I'd find myself worrying about who was going, if they knew my non-kissing status and whether my past transgressions would be remembered.

With friends, I'd leave a respectable distance between us, which led to tense farewells, involving much exaggerated waving and nervous laughter.

Then one day I bumped into someone I knew and no kissing ensued. It got me thinking. Were there rules?...

I have only recently become a social kisser, and let me tell you, it's taken years of therapy to overcome that traditional English reserve to be able to come to this point. I've always been a fan of the hug - even a public hug - but the kiss was always a step too far.

However, a kisser I now am, whatever that may do to my internal balance.

I now have another problem though... It seems there are two types of people in the world: those I will kiss, and those won't... and there is no immediate distinction between the two groups. For instance: I am happy to kiss Miss W and Mex, yet I don't kiss Chesty when we all meet up for drinks... (like tonight - *squee*) Which is downright odd when you consider that Ms Chesty has been to my house a few times, and even came along as an honoured guest to Miss H's birthday party. I do not understand. It is inexplicable.
It even extends to family friends - there are those of my parents friends who I am all 'Oh! Rob! Jillane! Mwah mwah!' and others who I still do the stiff wave and formal "Hi Mr and Mrs So-and-So, how lovely to see you again"
There's even memebers of my own family who I don't kiss - my sister-in-law is one, my brother-in-law another - as is MrB's cousin - but that's only because she air-kisses, and the air kiss just shits me. So I don't kiss her on purpose.

I'm thinking that maybe I subconsciously react to the Other Person's position on the public kiss - maybe if they're not someone who likes the Kiss, then I automatically respect that, picking up on vibrations in the air...

Or, maybe I'm just a snob.

Gah! Modern Etiqeuette - it throws me everytime!

So...

2008-01-29T15:45:00.000+11:00

After a weekend that should have been so fun, so relaxing, why am I left in a mess of questions and musings and yearnings and inexplicably weighty sadness?

Why do I do this to myself? Why aren't I more vigilant in my fight against this? Why does it come like a thief in the night, making a mockery of my facade of wellness? How deeply ironic that not a month ago I was congratulating myself on, if not wishing myself 'better' then wishing myself 'better-ish'.

And I know what it is... I know what has triggered this... It's the random collision with an old school friend, making me think about the girl that I was... that girl, that me... and a bunch of what-if's that are now plaguing me. I am so completely and utterly unrecognisable, unrelated to that girl, that me... Why does Life dilute one so?

Don't you sometimes wish that life was like a Choose Your Own Adventure? That you could get to the bit where you're married (with children) and go Pfft! Done that now... let's go back and see what happens if I do this instead... So many forks in the road where I didn't even realise there was a fork...

And now, as I told Ms LaRue this very afternoon, I do seem to have succumbed to a classic case of histrionics...

BitsnBobs

2008-01-23T09:07:00.000+11:00

Dot points have been sadly lacking around here for a while. Time to remedy this...

* Thankfully I managed an Actual well-balanced dinner last night - schnitzel and salad. Although as the salad was prepared by the Big Girls the coleslaw was less 'finely shredded' and more 'massive chunks of cabbage and onion'. The 'delicately tossed leafy green salad' was firmly in the 'great cobs of iceberg with a total of 2 manky cherry tomatoes thrown into the mix'. They were inordinately proud of themselves, understandably...

* I am obsessed with Mindy Smith and have been playing her Long Island Shores on a continual loop. I am slightly less obsessed with iTunes which won't let me download her previous album. *Insert withering comment about Records Label nazis here*

* I'm missing my Nanny.

* I'm missing PossumBoy. But I have heard that he's doing well in the other Foreign Parts in which he is based. This is only hearsay however. And for someone who apparently has enough spare time to check this blog every couple of hours, it's odd that he has neglected to reply to my email.

Slackarse.

* In other news, my eyebrows and I are friends again. Why do untended eyebrows affect my mood so? Why do I feel I am channeling GW? Is this like marriage - do you start to obsess over the same things as your blogging friends the longer you blog? Am I talking crap again?

Golly! What a self-obsessed post that was! I shall endeavour to be more, I don't know, global next time...

Unwritten Rules

2008-01-22T10:36:00.000+11:00

You know, this is precisely the reason I could never go blonde.

True it's a shocking photo of poor Amy, and true I would never be able to pull off her derelicte look in a million years, but seriously? The girl is meant to be a brunette. Some of us are just born that way... and if you try to mess with the laws of nature, well, you'll always lose.

And end up looking like an undead extra in Carry On up the Transylvanian Pass.

Balance

2008-01-21T19:32:00.000+11:00

You know, I don't care what the dinner nazis say, I think a tumbler of red wine and some stale bread topped with smoked salmon & cream cheese make a fine dinner.

It's kinda balanced too*.

Kinda...

And when washed down with some day-old carrot cake (I can make cake. Fact) while sitting on the deck as it rains and pours..? Well that just gives the day's crapness a chance to shed itself and drain away.

What think you?

* I suspect that choosing to deny myself the Cadbury Creme Egg was a Good Thing right now.

The Road Trip - Chapter 3

2008-01-18T10:34:00.000+11:00

Things you should know if you're ever fool enough to go on a camping holiday with 4 small children: sodden canvas tents are very very heavy. And very difficult to manhandle into a roof bag. Especially when it's still. bloody. raining.

Grrr.....

After that first damp night, we didn't have the energy to be making brekkie, so headed into town to find a cafe. After discovering that Wangaratta is in the seat held by Sophie "Petro Georgiou is a Political terrorist" Mirabella, I was keen to get the hell out of dodge, but my kids kinda needed feeding. There were no cafes open, so we had to settle for a good old sausage mcmuffin. mmmm. mcmuffins. Yet another of my fatal flaws...

Tummies full, and smiles restored, we hit the road again, heading for Melbourne...

... But we were soon diverted by signs to 'Glenrowan'. Being the history tragic that I am, it had to be done. Especially when I have a family connection to the whole Glenrowan/Ned Kelly saga. You see, the Station Master at Glenrowan, the big fat dibber dobber who ratted the Kelly Gang out to the fuzz... He and I share a quite distinctive surname. And there aren't many branches of the family... anyhoo, it had to be done - I had to pay tribute to that self-righteous and officious streak running through the bloodline.

If anyone's been to Glenrowan recently, I'm sure you'll agree it's a bit of a fizzer. There's some weird-arse sculptures hanging about, and a very bedraggled Ned Kelly reclining against a log, but that's about it. The station's pretty though, and seeing as that's all I wanted a photo of, I was relatively happy.

Miss M made the mistake of exclaiming "Oh! Ned Kelly! I know who he was - he was a hero!"..

Well! She won't be making that mistake again in a hurry! She will also be wondering for quite a while as to what Keneally and his wheelbarrow have to do with anything*.

We continued on our merry way towards Melbourne, commenting on the amazing roads - (see INC? This is what happens when you are from the Premier state - you can afford to be gracious and magnanimous...), when before we knew it, we were surrounded by Melbourne Drivers. We observed these curious creatures - noting their inability to indicate (yes, I realise this is common to all other states beside NSW - we learnt this the hard way), yet also their quaint reaction to one of their kind attempting to cross two (busy) lanes of traffic in order to join the (busy) lanes going in the opposite direction. That he decided the best way to achieve this was to just block both northbound lanes while he waited seemed complete MADNESS to us. That the air was not rich with the music of car horns and expletives was utterly inexplicable...

At lunchtime we happened upon the cottage of someone who isn't called Craig, and someone who actually isn't called Honeybear. It was a most delightful lunch, even if I was an appalling guest who took INC at his word when he said 'Don't bring anything' - I didn't have time to pick up any goodies, so stressed was I at actually getting there (fighting all those damn Melbourne drivers). No, that's a lie. I did bring something - I brought 4 children who proceeded to rampage through the house, intimidating INC's lovely delicate boys, and ransacking the rumpus room.

I can't take them anywhere.

We sat around the table, chatting and laughing like old friends - it was indeed delightful. And we didn't even do too much of that old Blogger-meet standby "Oh, your post on X was hilarious" etc etc. Mainly because neither MrB or Honeybear actually read our blogs, so had no idea what we were talking about. There was however a great deal of Baptist-joke trading - because that's what daggy Christians do when we get together. It's like the 11th Commandment.

And next time, I promise to bring wine and flowers and chocolates. I promise....

And also, I'll clean up after my children...

But in no time at all, we had to head off again - this time headed for Geelong. My second cousin lives there, and we were taking her out for tea. And also, camping. Obvs.

But... guess what? As we drove along the Freeway towards Geelong, the rain clouds started gathering again... And we had been hoping to let the tent kinda dry out... Oh well, Camping trips never go smoothly do they?

Next Stop: Somewhere between Melbourne and Robe.

*Which would be nothing really, he kinda got brought into the general rant. Just because, you know...?

The Sorry Saga of the Largomorphs

2008-01-17T13:55:00.000+11:00

Last Friday was a black black day in the B household.

For it came to pass that our rabbits all succumbed to a terrible illness and had to be dispatched to the great rabbit warren in the sky.

When we returned from the road trip 2 weeks ago, the rabbits had a pinkish tinge around the rims of their eyes. As the days passed the pinkish tinge turned reddish and then swollenish. And their little noses and mouths were getting swollen too. One of the rabbits - Pixie, our first rabbit - hadn't been seen for a while... she had been lurking in the sleeping enclousure. However Miss H had become concerned, and decided to check it out. Poor Pixie was not in a good way.

So we researched the symptoms, and discovered they had been infected with a mosquito-borne virus.

Which wasn't malaria.

If I wasn't so terribly distraught, then I would probably be able to enjoy the irony.

But I am, so I can't.

Vale Pixie, Snowy, Wombat, Pooh, Piglet and Eeyore...
One could not have more sociable, quirky pets as you - enjoy gambolling in the meadows in the sky...

... and so ends the saga of the rabbits. For the time being at least.

The Road Trip - Chapter 2

2008-01-17T11:35:00.000+11:00

Goulburn.

We admired the Big Merino in it's new home - thankfully my children didn't comment on the size or proportion of said Merino's testicles (obviously not a wether) - but then again, we're lucky they even noticed the damn thing, so totally unobservant are they. Miss M finally wondered aloud 'Haven't we seen that sheep before?..." like it's possible to forget The Big Merino once it's burned onto your retinas...

We sneakily parked in the trailer parking at Maccas, then skipped down the road to have a lovely lunch at the Goulburn bakery - pies and sandwiches and coffee. Real coffee... the first of many on the road, and one of the better ones, thankfully, or I may have turned around and headed home - the thought of a decaffeinated holiday too much to bear... And Miss O got to spill Strawberry Moove all over herself instead of chocolate shake. Twice. The child has inherited more than her fair share of my Latin genes and is incapable of speaking without waving her arms around.

Back on the road, DVD players working, peace and quiet reigned. For 50 minutes - the attention span of a 3 year old, as we have now discovered. Luckily the attention span of 8 and 10 year olds is much longer - especially when they have the entire series of Press Gang on DVD to keep them occupied - Thanks to Chesty for giving me the lowdown on where to get a good deal!

Heading south, the clouds were getting blacker and more ominous - not a good sign, not an auspicious way to start a camping holiday. "It's alright" think I, "It'll blow over" - and indeed it did, bathing us in glorious sunshine when we stopped to take photos of the Dog on the Tuckerbox (the Big Girls having received early Christmas prezzies of digital cameras from their grandparents). I may or may not have hit that manic phase of a car trip during which every sighting of the name 'Gundagai' prompted a rendition of 'The Road to Gundagai', or at least as much of it as I can remember.

Which isn't much, apparently.

This can get quite annoying. Apparently. According to MrB.

Pfft! He knew what he was letting himself in for...

On the road again... the clouds were back, and due to our delayed start in the morning, it was getting a little late - and Wangaratta seemed so far away. Trying to call the campsite, we discovered the problem that would plague us the entire trip - bloody mobile service. Or lack of it, as was the case. It wasn't until we were actually IN Albury that we managed to get any service - either Optus or Telstra. Major grrr-ing. And the irritation that I was feeling nearly stopped me from appreciating the Most Amazing Piece of Modern Infrastructure In The Country*, namely the Albury Bypass.

It was pretty amazing.

Although, I was interested (at the time, before I had been appraised of the Importance of the Bypass) (MrB having appreciated it's magnificence all by himself though) at the massive growth in industry in Albury since I was there last ... like 20 years ago... as a child ... who hadn't paid any attention to industry at the time...

Making knowledgeable comments about Stuff I know nothing about is what I was born to do...

Once we crossed the Murray into Victoria - having tried but failed to bring this to the attention of the Big Girls - they were too busy taking photos of each other's feet and nostrils - we felt that we were finally Getting Somewhere, finally on Holiday. It was quite exciting. As was the realisation that we were now driving on Good Roads. Bliss...

My love affair with Victoria ended pretty soon however - just down the road when we were threatened and intimidated by cross-looking Fruit Flies. MrB being the upstanding fellow that he is, insisted that we pull over and dispose of all our evil fruit-fly-infested goodies.

Me, being the anarchist that I am, tried to argue - citing the fact that I had seen many trucks laden with fruit passing and how come they got to take fruit into Victoria and we didn't? Hmmmm?

That didn't work, so instead I forced the family to eat as much of our fruit as they could, while standing in the rain in front of the big quarantine bin. Harumph.

Because yes, it was now raining. Oh the joy...

What started as light sprinkling as we were scoffing strawberries in Wodonga, turn just ever-so-slightly heavier as we got to Wangaratta. It did look pretty dry around there though, so we tried to be fair-minded about it. Which didn't last very long, as the prospect of putting up a tent, a brand new tent, in the pouring rain didn't appeal very much.

But we managed it - in spite of MrB losing his temper and pulling the ring out of one of the tent corners - and then we sat down to a damp dinner of sausages sandwiches cooked in the camp kitchen (and goodness me - haven't they changed since I went camping as a child? Microwaves? Kettles? Fridges? All the mod cons!!!). It wasn't exactly what I had planned for our first dinner on the road, but we coped. The we got little ones showered, and all had an early night. The first time that all 6 of us had been in the tent at the same time - a one-room tourer tent, the floor area completely covered with airbeds and sleeping bags - and everyone being told to "NOT TOUCH THE SIDES OF THE TENT' as it was now pouring...

I do believe a grrrr is in order here.

It wasn't the best night's sleep we ever had...

And it was still raining when we woke up, meaning we were faced with the problem of trying to pack up a sodden canvas tent and not do any damage.

To be Continued - next stop Melbourne (well Geelong, but let's not quibble)

*According to that renowned expert, Mr Fix.

The Road Trip - Chapter 1

2008-01-09T14:15:00.000+11:00

Are we all sitting comfortably?

Well then I'll begin...

We were supposed to set off on our Grand Tour at 9am... we finally left at 10am which really isn't too bad all things considered. Especially when you consider that the things to be considered include stuffing one small-ish Zafira and one medium-sized-ish trailer with all the essentials for a 3 week camping trip for 2 insane adults and four children of differing annoyingnesses. And when you also consider that one of the things to be considered is the fact that MrB had spent an ENTIRE day of his 3 day prep time creating an elaborate system of knots and pulleys to keep the tarp on the damn trailer.

Grrr....

We checked the lights, we checked the indicators, we stuffed the car with the correct number of children and set off!

We pulled out of our street.

The indicators stopped working.

We pulled into the next street, the indicators still didn't work.

We pulled over. Miss O piped up "ARE WE AT POSSUMBOY'S HOUSE NOW?"

Grrrr.....

We found an auto-electrician open and had him take a gander at the fuse-box. Turns out Mr Holden is a cheapskate, and although he says in his little manual that the indicator is a 15 amp fuse, he had decided in his miserly wisdom to only use a 10 amp one. Which promptly blew the minute we added the trailer into the mix. The 'auto-electrician' pulled out a 'spare' fuse and the indicators worked fine. Yay! Except we soon discovered that the 'spare' was actually for the 'ignition'...

Grrrr....

After a quick stop at Supercheap Auto, we were finally on our way - leaving the Gong just before midday.

Grrr... This amount of grr-ing at this early juncture - not a good omen, right?

Eh - It was OK once we hit the road, making good time and singing lots of lovely driving holiday songs before stopping at Goulburn for lunch.

Cue Miss O "Are we are at Possumboy's House?"

This is going to be a very. long. holiday.

Back to Work, already?

2008-01-09T13:54:00.000+11:00

Cricket hey!

Scandal and intrigue and name-calling, how terribly ... odd.*

I mean, seriously? An ENTIRE letters page in the SMH devoted to the debacle? Over-kill much?

Even the SCANDAL is boring. Does this not tell you about the cricketing poplace in general? Meanwhile the ex-president of Liberia is on TRIAL, the next president of the USA is being PRIMARIED and heaps of other shit is happening.

Perspective peoples! Look it up.

*And I still don't get what's going on... But please, don't take this as a cry for help. I don't actually NEED to understand.

Overheard in Fairy Meadow* KFC**

2007-12-11T14:21:00.001+11:00

Customer Service Drone #1:
Dude! You like totally so stole all my chips!

CSD #2:
Dude! OMG! I'm so sorry. I'm so not there today.
And they're like totally the wrong chips anyway...

Actonb:
"?"

*****

CSD #2:
*ineffectually spraying tables, waving cloth in table's general direction*

MissM:
He's not wiping the table properly... Look! Look Mum! He's just swished it, it's not clean AT ALL! He's going to get into trouble, not cleaning tables properly like that...

Actonb:
"?"

*****

MissH (randomly at random intervals during the 'meal')
"Why is it called a wrapstar? It doesn't have any pointy bits! It's not a proper star"
"Why are those people walking down the beach (on a promo picture)? This isn't a beach..."
"Why is that guy cleaning tables?"

*****

MrB:
You know there's no potato in the potato-and-gravy. It's just Deb. There's no potato AT ALL.

*****

Actonb:
Kill Me. Please.

* Not as glamorous as New York or London, to be sure... but I takes what I can get...
** Will no-one rid me of this troublesome addiction?

2007-12-04T14:40:00.000+11:00

Update -

As my Dad has flown over to the UK to be with his mum, I AM the damn family business and December is gearing up to be the busiest month in an extremely busy year.

Her tumour was benign but is now showing signs of malignacy. She is being moved into a hospice. We have nothing left but to wait...

The 20 minute commute is good. Very very good.

The coffee ops, not so good.

Road Trip planning coming on apace.

Head so not right, hence lack of blogging. I don't seem able to compose a meaningful sentence let alone an entire post. Also, thoughts and inspiration take up fleeting residence in my brain and then skedaddle the instant I vaguely contemplate committing finger to keyboard.

Man, the 21st century is unpoetic.

Jane Eyre made me cry. Jane Eyre always makes me cry. Maybe it's the fact that I too was a small, dark, plain and studious child, and grew up to be a small, dark, plain and studious woman. Oh! But Reader! She married him...

erm, that's it. See? I told you my attention span has contracted to that of a gnat.

...

2007-11-25T20:31:00.000+11:00

More dot points, more random fleeting observations:

Good:

Rudd won, obvs! (as did Sharon Bird. And Morrison and Vale recorded above-state-average swings against them)

Bad:

I found out this morning, prepared to indulge in some reciprocal gloating, that my Nanny has a massive, inoperable, stomach cancer.
Matt Price died this morning.

I have cried lots this weekend, for reasons both good and bad.

Even when you think you've got it sussed,

Life Sucks

And now I'm off to watch some Jane Eyre, as if fate knows what is needed as a balm to my soul...

BoogeyMan

2007-11-23T16:19:00.000+11:00

In honour of John Clarke and Brain Dawe's fantabulous skit of The 7:30 Report last night...

oogeley boogely oogeley boogely oogeley boogely oogeley boogely

juliagillardjuliagillardjuliagillard

BOOO!

Go, see it yourself. It's here... although you have to find it - Clarke, Dawe and the politics of fear

Yeah, this isn't going to make any sense to anyone, but I'm tired and my back hurts and I just want to curl up and sleep.

A bit of this, a bit of that...

2007-11-22T11:21:00.000+11:00

Things what are Good:

A 'Oh, that's right! This is why we had kids!' Moment in the kitchen the other night. All of us dancing to Blondie, all of getting under MrB's feet, all of us copping a Glare. We do have quite a narrow galley-style kitchen after all...
Hitching a ride on that Caprioska Love Train. I do love me some limes, and well, I did pick up that cheap vodka in Malaysia. 'Tis fate I reckon...
Being told, in all earnestness, that I dance like an 8 year-old. By The 8 year-old.
Downloading.
Plans for the weekend. If MrB remembers what hotel we're staying at. At the moment he's thinking 'somewhere near a park?'.

Things what are Bad:

Eternal ear infections.
Lots of work.
A niggling feeling that all will not go well on Saturday. Curse my lack of faith...

Square and slightly Sore Arse

2007-11-16T15:58:00.000+11:00

The SYTYCD recaps are finally done and dusted.

Phew.

I love the show, but seriously, how many times can I use 'awesome' as the most appropriate adjective???

I had a most surreal experience last night - I was at a committee meeting for this conference next year, which was being held in the bistro of the Appin Hotel - and I was watching SYTYCD... with no sound, and with technical babble/industry gossip in my ears. As well as the constant refrain of 'Actonb! Stop watching that!'

Because I have a complete inability to NOT watch a TV if it's on in a room. I can't ignore it. It doesn't matter what's on, my eye is drawn to it like a moth to a flame... Very annoying. Unless it's SYTYCD, in which case it's not annoying at all. Frustrating, yes. Annoying, no. Completely rude to the company I'm with, maybe...

Now it's over for the season and I've got to pin my hopes on the Aussie series... I'm fearful it will be a terrible disappointment, not least because of the lack of Cat.

And now, I must eat... or I shall waste away to a mere shadow of my self.

Fun, fun, fun till Daddy takes the T-Bird away...

2007-11-15T09:06:00.000+11:00

Do you know what is the best thing in the Whole Wide World? (Well, besides Tea-Cup poodles, world peace and eggs benedict...)

Road Trips!

Especially road trips with all four of your children! Although I'm kind of actually assuming this last part, as we haven't been on a road trip since the twins arrived... however the ultimate road trip - 6 months around Europe in a campervan - was utterly perfect when the Big Girls were 3 and 5.

We're planning a super-special road trip - to go and spend Christmas with my little brother in Perth. He will have just returned from Foreign Parts and will only be home for a short time before jetting off to Different Foreign Parts. So the lucky lucky boy is going to get the entire extended B family lob up on his doorstep expecting Christmas Dinner.

MrB and I are super-excited at this prospect...

So now I'm wondering... Does anyone out there have any brilliant ideas/ suggestions/ hints about which way to go, what detours to take, things to do, places to see...?
I kinda want to go via The Great Ocean Road and Adelaide, but I'm not sure if that's wise...

I'm all ears, please help!

Torn

2007-11-12T22:21:00.001+11:00

Monday night's are usually pretty scary at our place. My partiality for a spot of Supernatural is well documented. (For the people playing at home, tonight was all about the Dean. Or maybe the Sam. Damn! Still can't make up my mind)

But tonight I didn't know what was scarier - the Sleeping Beauty with Daddy issues, or Four Corners, which usually provides relief for my too-scary-even-for-the-pillow moments. For tonight was all about the Great Undecideds. Howard's Battlers. And boy did they make me feel like an educated, latte-swilling, elitist. I was typically dismissive of them, until MrB pointed out that these guys really represent The Average Australian. And then I got less dismissive and just really really sad. The future of our great nation is in their hands and they can't even string together a sentence. Unless it's a sentence that they've plucked from the front page of the Tele. Such as the fact that The Unions want power so they can get heaps of money from Australia. Like in the Eighties with Bob Hawke who wasn't good for the country. Yes it's a sentence, it just bears no relation to a) basic grammar or b) reality. (Let's conveniently ignore the fact that my own grammar leaves a lot to be desired)

Gah!

I'm torn between wanting Howard to get back in because by the time the next election rolls around, his 'battlers' will be have been so completely and utterly screwed by 'business' that they won't know what hit them, and, well, not wanting Howard to get back in, because, like, der...

I am such a snippy arrogant cow sometimes.

But this afternoon, driving home, the 2 main news items were firstly Howard's campaign launch and his out-and-out pork-barreling, and then secondly the atrocious state of Royal North Shore hospital and the NSW health system in general. The juxtaposition could not be clearer.

I do not want $400 to further exercise my 'choice' in regards to my children's education. I want my hospitals to be clean and adequately staffed. I want my schools to be well-resourced. I want to know that the less fortunate in society will be assisted and not left to rot in a gutter.

I want to not be left wringing my hands, despairing at the selfishness and hard-heartedness of my compatriots.

I just want this election to be over.

The Weekend That Was

2007-11-12T11:38:00.000+11:00

Well now, that was a fun weekend...

It started off angst-ridden, as all good weekends should. And angst is always better if the focus of the angst, the angstee if you will, is in Far Off Climes. And you frantically send emails to various places, each one more insistent and, well, cranky, than the last... hoping against hope that some reply will be forthcoming.
And then a phone call arrives 30 minutes later, by which time you've completely forgotten about the angst and then you're pleasantly surprised though also maybe just a teensy bit peeved, because you've just settled down for some quality Black Books viewing.
But the angst is eased, and you get to be both Big Sisterly (Bossy) and big sisterly (supportive), and then have a very interesting and intelligent discussion about the upcoming election. You get to learn things and see Defence from a different perspective, and you miss the angstee with all your heart and with all your mind and with all your soul.

And then you discover that your tenses are really completely rooted and move right along to the next part...

Saturday morning I got my hair cut and my eyebrows waxed (seriously, GW, they are awesome, I am a little in love with them right now). It's a new waxer, because long story short, I needed a new waxer. It's a geography thing. But in the hurdy-gurdy of scheduling waxing and hair-cutting on a Saturday morning, I kinda forgot the central reason for even being in Woonona on a Saturday morning, which of course is getting the Big Girls to ballroom dancing lessons. Whooops! We walked in halfway through, and I felt like a twit, but the teacher didn't care and told the girls just to go dance... and while I thought 'Score! They get half a lesson for free!' Miss M just glared and glowered and sulked, as she hates being late for stuff. And being noticed for all the wrong reasons. For an ultra-confident extrovert, she sure hates being looked at.

She got over it.

Then we did shopping and the girls fought over who got to take the trolley back at Aldi (so they can keep the $2) and I think we'll just leave the overwhelming domesticity shall we?

Then I made scones and we had friends pop over for high tea. That was fun. I got to cuddle the boy with a head so huge it has it's own weather system.*

And then I realised 'Shit! It's 4:30 and we so need to be somewhere else very soon', so we kicked our friends out (they were sconed out anyways) and there was a mad scramble to get ready and then we were on our way to...

dump the kids at my parent's place and then on to...

Newtown, where we were meeting friends (more of them! I know!) at the Bank Hotel for tea before heading to...

The Vanguard! To see Andrew Webb and David Knoplfer. And I'm giving Andrew linkage because a) he's awesome and b) I've finally got around to sending him this url so he totally gets a shout-out.
Thoughts:
The Vanguard - less 'swanky', more 'tart's boudoir'. It was probably the exquisite placement of standard lamps that created the effect. So I had a Brandy Alexander, as it seemed most appropriate.
Andrew - awesome - see above.
The Other Band - crap. Also, looked 12 years old. Also, bass player quite obviously counting.
David Knopfler - better looking than his brother (not hard) bouffant middle-aged-man hair notwithstanding. Nicer voice than his brother (also not hard). Can anyone explain to me why I thought Dire Straits were from Scotland**... anyone? anyone? I was very confused when he started wittering on about Deptford. Also, confused as to lack of Scottish accent.

It was a lovely night, catching up with old friends, making new ones... Great music, great conversation... All good.

Yesterday, for some unknown reason, I was completely exhausted. I probably didn't help this by having a Gin Tasting session before dinner. I thought it was a brilliant idea, seeing as I'd bought myself some Blackwood's the other day. So I set up the Tanqueray Ten, the Blackwoods and the Bombay, and tried to see if I could taste the difference. And I can... I can also make various learned statements about juniper and exotic botanicals while doing so...
But by last night, well, I very very very nearly fell asleep while watching Idol. I didn't, but that may have been the Big Girls giggling pointedly at me.

Ay ay ay, not very sensible when I have such a busy week ahead of me. ***

* Points for naming the reference &etc &etc.
** Further research (ie, wikipedia) has just informed me that he was born in Glasgow. HA! Take THAT MrB!
*** Also, have just realised this was my 300th post. Woohoo, Go Me! etc.

Mind over Matter makes Pooh un-fatter!

2007-11-08T09:21:00.000+11:00

Snortle snortle snerk.

Annabel Crabb is the only thing worthwhile about this bloody election.

Behold - the wonders of the Pooh metephor!

The day two cunning adventurers fell into their own big Heffalump trap
Annabel Crabb
November 8, 2007

IT WAS reckless talk from Christopher Robin about Heffalumps - those terrifying, shambling creatures - that first planted the idea for Pooh and Piglet.

They would build a Heffalump trap!

You may be familiar with the story; the intrepid pair dig a Very Deep Pit in the woods, in the hope of ensnaring the fabled beast through sheer cunning.

"Pooh rubbed his nose with his paw, and said that the Heffalump might be walking along, humming a little song, and looking up at the sky, wondering if it would rain, and so he wouldn't see the Very Deep Pit until he was halfway down, when it would be too late."

Pooh and Piglet's Heffalump trap was baited with honey, which was a very clever choice of bait.

And it was cunningly disguised, so as to take the fearsome Heffalump completely unawares.

In fact, it was such a brilliant trap that after a while Pooh and Piglet forgot they had even built it, which was around about the point at which they both fell into it.

Three years ago in Australia, another pair of adventurers came up with a similar sort of trap.

One of the adventurers was shortish, with eyebrows of a beetling type, and the other tallish and loudish and sort of pleasingly treasurer-shaped.

Unlike poor Pooh, both of them had quite big brains. And they spent quite a bit of time building their Heffalump trap.

The pit they built was deep and terrifying, with steep, scrabbly sides and a bottom that was so deep that you could yell "Who do you trust?" into it and all you would hear back, after a few minutes, was "…rust?"

It was so big, in fact, that people worried their whole houses might fall into it.

In 2004, it even worked. It caught a Large Shambling Latham, who was walking along, swearing a little bit under his breath and thinking mean thoughts about the President of the United States when he fell into the Heffalump trap with a crash, and was barely heard from again.

But the thing about heffalump traps is that they don't go away.

And if you've been especially clever, and your Heffalump trap is especially cunning and well-disguised and temptingly baited, then there might come a day when you are wandering through the woods, humming a little tune and thinking about honey, when suddenly you step on a piece of the Forest which had been left out by mistake, and you find yourself… in the bottom of your own Heffalump trap.

Which is where our two adventurers found themselves yesterday.

With apologies to A.A. Milne and The Spectator.

This made me smile, through the headaches and the grinding of teeth, through the overwhelming urge to slap someone (Howard mostly), through the rain and the damn ants. It made me smile.

The Culture Wars

2007-11-07T15:19:00.000+11:00

My eyebrows are engaged in an ideological war of Windschuttle proportions. My head is scary place to be at the best of times, but currently - woahh! 'tis not for the faint of heart...

A little backstory is probably necessary here: I was, up until 18 months ago, a plucker. My trusty tweezers were all I needed to keep my eyebrows in a semi-decent state. We were all happy with this, my eyebrows, my tweezers and I - we knew what was expected of each other and we all got along just fine.

And then my sister got married. My sister with her tinted and waxed eyebrows. And apparently my tweezers weren't good enough for her - oh no! I needed to submit my brows to the waxer's paddle-pop stick of Doom. Because my neatly trimmed brows were too Brooke Shields for my sister's taste.

So I submitted, I surrendered, I acquiesced against my better judgement...

Although I have to admit, my newly thinned and shaped brows were pretty damn sexy. It was like an Oprah make-over moment...

But as every woman will agree, once you've waxed, there's no going back. You make a deal at that there crossroads. You become the wax pot's bitch and don't you know it. You have to get your arse back onto that crinkly-paper-and-plastic-covered bed every three weeks or your start to look like you've been hit with the Marty Simpson Ugly Stick.

...back to the war correspondent...

My left eyebrow is a laid-back kinda brow. It's read the lay of the land and given up the ghost. Regrowth is sparse. It's showing it's displeasure by making the very edge of the brow grow in the opposite direction, but it's kinda a half-arsed temper tantrum.

My right eyebrow however seems to have taken my Year 11 2U English Topic Area theme of 'Overcoming Adversity' to heart. Not a week after being waxed, there are stragglers popping up everywhere in the general proximity of my neat and stylish arch. Argh!

So now I'm lopsided as well as being ungroomed. Typical righty wanker of an eyebrow, ruining it for everyone.

Harumph.

The dog ate my homework

2007-11-05T16:19:00.000+11:00

I had an awesomely funny post worked out yesterday. Like for reals funny. I even laguhed out loud.

I have since forgotten every single word, so you're just going to have to trust me on this...

Anyone wanna go see De La Soul with me next Janaury???? I am so so stoked and excited about it. And also am very prescient as the very day before it was announced that they were coming out for the Sydney Festival, I had amended my Facebook status to read that I was soft like silly putty.

It's fate.

So... any takers?

Outings and Questionings

2007-11-01T13:57:00.000+11:00

On Saturday night I went Out.

Like... Out.

It was quite exciting, as you can tell by the explicit capitalisation.

I even wore *gasp* heels and (wait for it...) make-up! Well, a bit of eye liner and some lippy, but still, effort peoples - real actual effort went into my personal appearance. A red letter day indeed.

I went out with a friend - she came over for dinner, then the children went to bed, MrB retreated to the study (it's that time of year for teachers... especially teachers who are still doing their DipEd) and Viv and I trip-trapped over the bridge to the lush green meadows beyond.

Or, like, we went into the Gong.

We had wine and cheese at Ibis, we had wine and people-watching at Hotel Illawarra, we had coffee and dessert and Caveau. It was all very civilised and quite quite lovely. Really. Despite the fact that we had a conversation re politics that made me go hmmm....

Because it turns out that Viv is seriously considering voting Liberal. And I just wasn't expecting that. And the reasons she's giving are quite enlightening:
Apparently Rudd isn't extreme enough for her. She wants an actual alternative to Howard if she's going to change her vote. She wants WorkChoices completely rolled back, or not at all -none of this fiddle-faddling about. She figures at least with Howard she knows what she's getting. Voting for Howard-lite merely for the sake of a change simply isn't an attractive option for her, and I suspect many others.

Which is what is so disappointing about this election campaign - I feel that Labor are underestimating us, the Australian electorate. I mean, we've given them reason to think that, having given us Actual Alternatives at the last couple of elections, none of which we found to be acceptable. So they're assuming we're all heartless bastards and handling us with kid gloves and I have a sneaking suspicion it's going to backfire.

However, even she thinks that Labor will get in - she's sensing a mood in the electorate. And I can only hope she's right... It was just interesting to speak to a Liberal voter who's NOT related to my husband. And the most interesting thing is that her vote would be Rudd's if he just stood up for what he really believes. Of course, living in one of the safest Labor seats in the country (excluding the blip that was Michael Organ, and that was only because we in the Northern Illawarra don't like being taken for granted) means that her vote is not going to make much difference anyway.

... and this post ended up in a whole different place to where I intended it to.

Gin O'Clock

2007-10-24T16:56:00.000+10:00

Is there a certain, magical, age at which one becomes enamoured of all things juniper?

Is Gin not the Queen of Spirits?

Is it ever too early for a cheeky G&T?

Is even crappy crappola Malaysian Gin the perfect end to a busy day?

Does this make me officially old? I'm thinking that the resemblance to my late-middle-aged uncle and aunt is becoming uncomfortably striking... drinkies anyone?

Am I the only one getting Hogarthian vibes here?

Eeek?

And she's back...

2007-10-23T14:56:00.000+10:00

I'm baaaccckkk.

And you know that a phrase has finally filtered down to the very depths of the communal consciousness when people like me start quoting Jack Nicholson/ The Shining without having

a) ever seen the movie or read the book or

b) ever having any intention of doing so...

*shivers*

Speaking of scary shiveriness, Supernatural did not disappoint last night... I've missed my boys! And I missed their triumphant return last week too... but they made up for it last night with utter utter utter freakiness. Plus, you know, daylight shots which are always a bonus.

*sigh* My boys are back...

I loved Malaysia - loved meeting new people, loved hanging out, loved learning stuff. It was an all-together empowering week, on so many different levels. I'm glad I went, and it wasn't just about the noodles. Although they were an very important, nay, essential component of the trip.

It was about stepping outside of my comfort zone *Dixie Chicks now playing on continuous loop in my head*, standing on my own two feet, and a whole bunch more cliches along the same theme - namely that I may actually start getting taken a little more seriously around the place.

I also got to rant about politics to numerous lovely people - what???? They asked first!!!!! This election seems to be causing a great deal of interest in Asia... And ranting, well, it always makes me happy - and captive audiences just make it all that much sweeter.

But the sweetest, sweetest thing would be the RM113 ($37) bill at Airport Duty-Free - the combined total for 1L Finlandia and 1L Bombay Sapphire...

I'm headed back there soon, oh yes I am!

Greetings from Malaysia...

2007-10-18T00:03:00.000+10:00

It's 'Truely Asia' now apparently... just to fill you in!

I'm up in the Genting Highlands and it has me completely spun out... It seems like your typical lovely mountain resort/retreat/country club (think Lillianfels in the Blue Mountins). And then you catch a cable car to the top of the mountain to discover...

This.

Insane. Completely insane.

Background info: I'm on a 5 day technical workshop and team building thing. There are 50 people here - distributors, marketing and technical staff. They are from all over the Asia Pacific region - and there are 3 anglos (me, the guy from Melbs and the guy from NZ).

Random obsevrations from the last couple of days (becasue it's late and my brain is fried from the science)

It's weird being the only caucasaion female in an entire hotel (if you discount the dirty french hipsters that I noticed the other night. Which I obviously intend to do... I mean, they were imposssibley thin, blonde, wearing all black (with a blouse that tied in a big floppy knot at the neck) and carrying a CK bag... like they need any more validation...)

It's even weirder (for me anyways) to be one of the tallest in a group of 50 or so workshop members. Thank goodness for the insnely tall NZ and Korean guys...

I wish, wish, WISH I could speak Chinese...

Speaking of Chinese, I was in the airport on Sunday afternoon, waiting for my flight when I got a call from MrB to tell me the election had been called. I then got a call from my Dad telling me the election had been called... and you know what? I was so damn happy I was going to be away this whole week. I know that the electioneering will only get worse as the election draws nearer, but I just didn't need to hear Howard and his smug, entitled, calculated and manipulative face all over the place. Fingers and toes and everything else is crossed, hoping the electorate does what I always hoped I'd be able to do: deliver a slap across the face, in the most humiliating fashion imaginable...

I can handle the various curries at the breakfast buffet... the chicken sausages and lack of bacon are harder to cope with...

This afternoon I ended up playing badminton. In jeans and thongs. But y'know, it doesn't matter - it's all about 'team building' and though that term strikes terror through my heart, I'm going to mix metaphors and lay back and think of England and just be sociable damn it. And I didn't suck at it that much...

I have spent a few hours this evening teaching the Thai TS & D manager how to play pool, while drinking dodgy gin and listening to an even dodgier house band murder Olivia Newton John. And as Chesty can testify I suck at pool. But twas fun nonetheless.

Also... can you believe I've been here for 4 days and haven't had any laska, satay or char kway teow yet????? RIPPED OFF!

Tomorrow is 'team building'... eeek!

Random Bits of Randomness

2007-10-09T15:21:00.000+10:00

Ooh. It's been a while... well, over a week, and that's a while in blogspeak. For me anyways...

And I'm only popping back in to have chuck a slight wobbley about the fact the STUPID Ten still hasn't scheduled Supernatural...

And then I discover that this unpublished diatribe worked wonders and yayness! Supernatural starts next Monday...

So I opened my SMH this morning and had a little seizure. But it's OK, just my tendency to overreact. Well it's OK for me, just not for some other poor family.

I'm stressing, stressing so damn much about this trip to Malaysia. I have to be a grown-up, a professional, and to be honest, it freaks the hell out of me. I have to give a presentation, a power-point presentation. And really, you have no idea how much fear that word inspires in me.. well two words really, just joined together in hyphenated hell...

I'm worried about leaving MrB and the girls for a week. I'm worried about being bamboozled with techno-speak for a week. I'm worried that I'm not going to be able to exercise restraint over my renowned lack of tact. I'm worried that I'm going to miss out on laksa-eating opportunities. I'm worried I'm going to have to build a raft. I'm worried that I'm going to miss SYTYCD.

You know? I would make a crap farmer. So completely and utterly. I started sobbing, real heaving sobs, about the fact the one of the rabbits lost her litter of kittens. She just didn't have any goodness left to feed them as her 4 week old took it all. So the baby rabbits just ... died. And I cried. And I cried when we decided to dispatch the last of the brown feral bunnies (who sat and lurked in the back of the hutch, petrified of us to the very end ... (understandably it turns out...)) to join Mr Rabbit in the great Warren in the Sky. Really. I am quite pathetic, and I just know that hormones are not to blame.

I have so much stuff swirling round in my head and just can't pour it out onto the page. It's very Harry Potter. All silvery stuff that can't form itself into anything other than random words that don't go together. Kind of like a TWoP Dr Who recap...

And I'm so damn tired and I keep dreaming about dead bunnies. This is not good, right?

On a lighter note, I just watched Amy Winehouse's Rehab and I'm a total convert... It's true that Natalie's Gauci's performance on Idol was very... well, pop... and Dicko's crack about the Solid Gold Dancers was highlarious, but it's been stuck in my head since Sunday... so I checked out the original and wow! loved it...

So, um, yeah... how is everyone?

Faux Foodie

2007-09-26T11:30:00.000+10:00

.... And in a jump to the left, right back into the banality that is C&C, I just wanna know,

For someone who professes to be such a foodie, why does crappy crappy junk food hold such desirability for me?

Case in point: Tuesday night being Two-for-one at Pizza Hut we will occasionally succumb to the easy option (especially, if like last night, there has been a run of 2am finishes (MrB had a uni assignment due) and dinner just seems too damn hard). MrB, coz he's the bestest husband ever as well as understanding my penchant for bones-covered-in-sauciness, ordered me a 6 pack of Saucy Wings along with the usual 2 pizzas. I finished said wings (but refrained from the BBQ Meat Lovers (Miss M's choice - blergh)) and promptly got back on the phone to order a 12 pack.

WHY??????

Especially when I woke up this morning feeling crappy as, due to a combination of: surfeit of saucy wings (and their associated preservatives and artificial add-ons), a leetle too much grenache and too little sleep. The lack of sleep I have only myself to blame for unfortunately - I was finishing the SYTYCD recap and got to bed at 12:45... whoops!

Friendship Bracelets

2007-09-25T11:09:00.000+10:00

I had a post all worked out a couple of months ago, all about the difficulty in making friends when you are old and decrepit and thirty-something. I had been pondering it because MrB and I had been tentatively reaching out our hands in friendship to the parents of Miss H's Best Friend, let's call them Jim and Sandy, and I was quietly pleased and excited with the results...

We had decided to make an effort to interact with the people around us, break out of the church/family enveloping cosiness. It's much easier for MrB, this getting-to-know-people, but then he's always been the social butterfly. I've been the one lurking in the kitchen trying to avoid conversation. And if some plucky soul decides to confront me and force sociability on me, I usually respond with such withering sarcasm and self-depreciation that they beat a hasty retreat. This is not how one makes friends, apparently.

A chance comment by Sandy when she came to pick her daughter up after Miss H's birthday party this year made me think that I'm not alone. It surprised me and made me consider that friendship, rather than school-gate acquaintanceship, could be a possibility. One of the walls in our hallway is entirely covered in bookshelves - it's quite a long hallway, with the bookcases on one side, and a long pew on the other - remembering that our house is a converted chapel. Most people just walk straight past them, but Sandy stopped and had a really good look. We ended up at the front door chatting about books and she mentioned that she loves looking at other people's bookcases (don't we all!), because she can get a good feel as to what kind of person they are, how smart they are... Now that sounds like intellectual snobbery, and it is, but isn't that how we all react when we see a house with a handful of books displayed - mostly Dan Brown and Bryce Courtney - don't we all make snap judgements? Luckily I passed Sandy's stringent test - she said my books were intriguing...

Her comment intrigued me, and got me thinking that yes, we could very well be friends... so I took the plunge and invited the Smiths over for dinner. They have 3 kids - their son is in the same class as Miss M and is one of her good friends; A is bestest friends with Miss H, and has been since Kindy; little N is in Kindy. Dinner was lovely - a BBQ outside on the deck, lots of red wine, kids going wild down in the rumpus room... MrB and Jim got stuck into deep theological arguments (It wasn't me! MrB assured me... He started it!) Sandy and I made tentative comments about other mothers, teachers, kids and discovered we're on the same wave-length.

It was an all-together grown-up experience, and one that I really enjoyed.

That was back in May, and since then we've had a few get-togethers, along with the usual school holiday exchange-of-children... But in the last 6 weeks or so life has been getting a little hectic - MrB's school and uni load increasing, school assignments, family commitments - all taking precedence over socialising with anyone, let alone 'new' friends.

I did notice that the Smiths weren't around at footy (their son plays AFL too), but I thought that Sandy may have had health issues - she had treatment for breast cancer last year - and I was in a quandary. I asked H if everything was OK with the Smiths, and she said that the kids had had a holiday with their grandparents, but were back at school and everything was fine. I was torn... what if Sandy is sick, and when I ring it's the millionth call she's received that day? I don't want to bother her... I decided not to, especially when H confirmed things were OK, and then of course, any good intentions got swept away by the sheer force of Life.

MrB ran into Sandy at the supermarket the other day, and asked how everyone was as we hadn't seen them around... Turns out things couldn't have been worse. She was surprised we didn't know, as A had told H, but unfortunately this had coincided with a giant lecture we had given H about the importance of keeping secrets... She rang MrB in the evening to give him the whole story, as it wasn't appropriate for telling in a supermarket aisle. And MrB then rang me, as I was driving across Sydney for a meeting. What he told me blindsided me completely. Utterly.

She hadn't been around because she'd been in hospital. She had nearly died. Jim had always been controlling and manipulative but he had suddenly snapped and beaten her so badly that she'd lost a kidney and suffered a ruptured eardrum. He was in gaol, having been refused bail three times.

I rang her straight away, just to let her know that now we knew, if there was anything at all we could do, then we would... And I apologised profusely for not ringing earlier - she understood completely and said she'd been going to ring me but didn't want to burden me... She and the kids were doing surprisingly well, and that the terrible tension that had pervaded every aspect of their family life was now gone...

The new has shocked me, shaken me to the core. My reaction was visceral. I have never known anyone who has suffered domestic violence before. I mean, I haven't grown up in some sheltered community, I know it happens, but it had never happened to a friend. I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to care for her... I'm in that quandary again, but I'm damned if I'm going to take the easy option and let it all slip away. But it's so hard to know what the right thing to do is, the right way to care for a friend with whom you are only just learning to walk.

Even more pressing is how to help H care for her friend - her poor frightened and hurting friend who actually heard the entire attack, who heard her mother screaming and crying and could do nothing... How do you help eight year olds through this?

I'm a little lost...

Under the Stars

2007-09-22T21:29:00.000+10:00

The Big Girls are sleeping outside tonight. In a tent.

MrB and are betting when they come back inside...

He says by 10:30pm. I say definitely before midnight.

Your wagers please, gentlemen...

Things what are funny when you're 12.

2007-09-20T14:28:00.000+10:00

This morning I had to go into Wollongong, because the professional association to which I belong, has, in their wisdom, decided to hold their annual conference in the Gong next year. And apparently as I'm a local, I get to be on the organising committee. As the social secretary.

This amuses me very much indeed, because, as anyone who knows me would be happy to concur, I am the least social person in existence.

However it doesn't amuse me half as much as the name of a cafe I discovered in Crown Street Mall. I don't often venture down the eastern end of the mall, mainly because my shopping tolerance threshold gets me from the car park to Myers to DJs and back again. Barely.

But the tourism office is down that way, so I had to make an effort. And I'm glad I did. Because I am actually 12 you see, so I saw the name of the cafe and snorted quite loudly, as I suspect most of you out there in the blogosphere would too...

I just want to know who doesn't love 'BJ's on the Mall'?

How unfortunate... hee *snort*

Q & A

2007-09-19T19:36:00.000+10:00

Is it wrong to have a cheese-and-barbecue chip sandwich for tea? With a glass of red, obvs.

Is it wrong to discover that the Backyard Burger at Maccas is actually edible? And to make it your burger of choice when you surrender to demands to visit the Cheesy Burger House?

Is macaroni cheese not the ultimate in comfort food? With roasted tomatoes (and a nice glass of red) obvs.

Is it wrong to worry endlessly about your little brother when he's about to fly away to Parts Unknown?

Is there a cheese theme going on here?

The Good Life

2007-09-17T16:19:00.000+10:00

Was it not the most glorious weekend?

Bright and sunny and warm, reminding me yet again that Spring is my favourite time of the year. Pleasant but not ridiculously hot.

Frabjous day, calloooh callay etc.

So I let the sun go my head and started channeling Felicity Kendall in a big way. I didn't go blonde and adorable (much to MrB's annoyance - he luurrves Felicity K), but I did buy a whole heap of tomato, cucumber, lettuce and snow pea plants, so we can go all self-sustainable.

For, like, salads.

But it's a start!

So we planted plants. We weeded'n'feeded. Which prompted a discussion about the vagaries of the English language - because I tried to say we'd 'wed'n'fed' but we hadn't. We'd weeded'n'fed. Stupid, stupid stupidness. I am SO glad it's my mother tongue because I'd be stuffed trying to learn it!

And then... drama!

Because Inigo has caught a couple more rabbits in the last few days (prompting Miss H's question "Daddy, did you not realise an animal has been torn to shreds in the bathroom?") I bought him (the cat, Donnie) a new collar with a chunky big bell attached. He was sunning himself in the garden when I grabbed him to fasten on the collar, and during the resultant struggle I noticed a tick sticking out of his head, just above his eye. We tried to get it out, but to no avail, so MrB had to rush my Schminigo off to the vet, leaving me sobbing and stressing and generally carrying on like the drama queen I am.

It was like this, but white and freakier-looking

He's OK.

Phew!

It turns out he's probably been building up an immunity to iocaine powder over the last few years.

Strange Things are afoot at the Circle K.

2007-09-14T09:37:00.000+10:00

Well not really..

Although I do have rather a soft spot for Circle K, as the one in Gymea used to be the only place in the Shire I could get Homer Hudson ice cream. But that's beside the point. I"m just having another hit of nostalgia. It's like a drug! Bronnie Bishop is going to come and take away my children and give them to a much more balanced Liberal-voting family. I'd better watch out.

The strangeness comes from the fact that

a) I got all of my hair cut off, so now it's back to the short croppiness of yesteryear. I feel like I'm back after wandering for years in the wilderness. The liberation, the light-headedness, the joy of waking up NOT being strangled by my own hair!

b) I found a dress. In Cue. In size 10. I think the world may have shifted off it's axis, because that's just not right.

Said dress is a gorgeous black 1950s, boat-necked, cap-sleeved, belt-waisted LBD. I'm very very happy, but have been unable to find an image of it to post here.

I had an unpleasant afternoon yesterday trying to find a dress that was both professional and kinda cute/funky. To go with my new hair, see. And also was light enough to wear in KL as I'm jetting off for a week-long training/workshop seminary thing there in a couple of weeks. But nothing fitted. Nothing was right. Everything this season looks like it'll be gorgeous and then you try it on and it either looks like a sack (a very expensive sack) or looks like you have a behind the size of Russia. There was no happy medium. And that was before I made the mistake of entering Veronika Maine.

I have no idea how that place actually makes any money as every single thing I tried on made me look fat or dumpy or fat and dumpy. And every single garment was in a colour that made me look so jaundiced I nearly dashed off for a session under the nearest UV lamp. It's shops like VM that make me wish that I could actually sew and then I would never have to submit myself to such exquisite torture again.

So why I decided to give it another go last night, when I was already exhausted, I'll never know. To further confundment, I decided to bring both Big Girls along for the ride. I obviously wasn't thinking straight. As we sailed through Myer en route to the Cue concession, I asked them to remind me to buy some Innoxa bath foam. This was a mistake because they then spent the next 30 minutes interrupting my concentration by constantly repeating every single variation on the word 'Innoxa' they could think of - 'nonixa' 'ipoxa' 'nextoxta' etc. They also gave their considered opinion on every item of clothing I picked up. And poured scorn on every suggestion I made... 'Ooh, this lovely red belt will go with the black dress' said I, 'Er, I don't think so *intense eye-rolling* it so doesn't go' said Miss M.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

How I managed to find The Dress, try it on, and actually purchase it, will remain a mystery forever.

Life is Good: Reason #539

2007-09-11T12:19:00.000+10:00

Moments which make you realise that life is full of sunshine and puppies (when you know what to look for)...

This morning I went downstairs to check on the sole remaining rabbit baby(cub? kitten? cherub?) - it's now 10 days old and is a gorgeous little thing, ever gradually growing the softest fur with the cutest little ears. It still hasn't opened it's eyes, and I suspect that Pixie (the mother) has been feeding it slightly more than the once-a-day Professor Google told us to expect, because it's a becoming quite a little roly-poly rabbit... As it now befurred it can be handled and so it was snuffling around in my hand when I became aware of a warm wetness dribbling between my fingers... it piddled on me! And got put back in the nest quick smart.

Of course Miss H thinks this is The Single Funniest Thing that has ever happened...

Misses O and I were also quite amused and have been telling anyone who will listen that Mummy's hand is a toilet! A rabbit toilet! I love 3 year old logic.

And I realise that this post would probably be more at home on WDTAOK, but I posted photos of the Wet Weekend on there this morning so it will have to languish here.

Oh! And I just remembered...

Yesterday sitemeter recorded the 15000th visitor to this humble blog... and amazingly it was that most lovely of bloggers - Miss Gigglewick! Thank Goodness it wasn't a freaky lurker type...

wOOt etc...

History Lessons

2007-09-10T10:11:00.000+10:00

I realise that the current fashion is to be bagging Facebook, or lamenting the blocking of Facebook by employers, or the brandishing of fists in response to be thrashed at scrabble on Facebook, but I'm going to be different.

I heart Facebook!

And there's a very particular reason why:

I came home from footy on Saturday morning, consoling a very bedraggled Tiger who was covered head-to-toe in mud having played (and lost) an hour-long rain-soaked Grand Final, to discover a message sitting in my Facebook inbox.

It went along the lines of

"Hi! You wouldn't happen to be the Actonb who lived in Warrington UK before moving to Australia would you? Because I've been trying to find you for ages!"

And this simple email caused much squealing and shrieking and carrying on as it was from my bestest and oldest friend in the whole wide world - Sara. She was my best friend from 1978 to 1982 when we moved a universe away from Warrington - 25 years ago this month. We kept in touch for quite a while, as only 8 year olds can, writing every six months or so, until everything faded to black. I think it was when we were in high school that we finally lost touch.

She still lives there, in that little Northern town with it's incomprehensible accent, and she's been google-stalking me for a couple of months before trying Facebook. So damn lucky I kept my quite distinctive maiden name - there is but one Actonb in the world! And in a lovely coincidence I had tried to find her on Facebook a couple of weeks ago, but got cold feet at the thought of 'poking' the 10-or-so Sara X's...

So we've been exchanging emails, trying to fill in the gaps of 2 decades of silence. It's daunting but fun y'know... What is it about the false security of nostalgia? Why is it so attractive? I am a lifetime away from that little girl Sara knew, and yet maybe not... I think it's worth it, to catch a glimpse through the Sliding Door at the life I left behind...

Plus, also, she has cool photos of us dressing up which she's going to send me!

Double Standards

2007-09-06T12:51:00.000+10:00

Quite.

From the SMH letters page 04/09/07

I trust that the Federal Government is so alarmed at the illicit drug use of Andrew Johns that it will immediately intervene and enter his Newcastle home declaring it a drug and alcohol-free zone, ensure any computers therein have a use policy and filters, compulsorily acquire title to his property and lease it back to him for five years, quarantine a percentage of his income to ensure money is being spent on utilities, food and clothing for his family, entitle police to enter the premises at any time and offer free regular medical check-ups for his son.

Ben Fogarty Darwin (NT)

Yes, the letters pages are indeed a wonderful mine of inspiration!

Tick Tock

2007-09-05T16:27:00.000+10:00

I was thinking in the shower this morning.

What? Isn't that where everyone does their thinking? Standing under the hot water, focusing on the middle distance, trance-like, just ... thinking?

Anyway I was thinking about Australian Idol and the youngness of some of the little lab rats. Matt Corby, Ben McKenzie and Lana Krost are all 16 or 17 years old. Which is so very very young. Obviously not to the bunch of 14 year-olds who sms-ed their little fingers to the bone voting them into Idol, but to the rest of us they are worryingly young to be encountering such a monster of reality teevee.

So I was pondering the ethics of TV production. As you do when lathering with green tea body wash.

And then I was struck by the realisation that these little children were born in the 1990s. I left high school in 1991. This is earth-shattering. This means I really am old. I mean, I remember the day I realised people born in the 1980s could drive. And vote. And I thought that was scary enough.

This is so much worse...

My own children were born in the 1990s.

*eons pass*

Time does fly doesn't it? It's what it does, moving inexorably onwards, dragging us all with it...

And in a instant I had thought all of this and continued to stare into space as the hot water lulled me into a sense of peace.

Time. It's pretty amazing.

So You Think You Can Recap

2007-09-04T15:21:00.000+10:00

Well, yes, I think I can.

I can't guarantee the quality of the snark, but I can definitely get it all down...

And it's here, over on Square Eyes, Square Arse, which is a much more befitting home for SYTYCD, don't you think?

So go have a peek, just don't be expecting high-grade recapping like over at Bland Canyon. It's just not going to happen peoples...

*****

And for those who want to know, Miss M received the Regional U-10s 'Achiever Award ' (What used to be known as the 'Rising Star Award' which unsurprisingly M prefers) for AFL last night. Woohoo &etc!

Part the Second

2007-09-03T15:46:00.000+10:00

Sunday dawned bright and sunny...

Father's Day = Bacon & Egg rolls, sitting on the sun-drenched deck, double-shot flat-white in hand. We are but creatures of habit.

Father's Day presents = Detainee 002 by Leigh Sales (from me, obvs) plus 2 tie-dyed hankies (from the twins - hee!) He was stoked with all pressies. The twins were stoked when he blew his nose on the hankies...

Father's Day extra present = A new batch of baby bunnies. With a mother showing actual signs of a maternal instinct*, having made a nest for the bubskis. I saw a mound of fur and thought an almighty shit-fight must have occurred during the night. MrB is more sensible, aware, and generally less inclined to alarmist dramatics and worked out exactly what had happened. Woohoo!

Father's Day Outing = Watching the Swannies thrash the Hawks. Ha! And also, watching Miss H play Auskick during halftime. Double Ha!

Father's Day frustration = Bulli Pass being closed and having to drive home via the Sea Cliff Bridge. Behind a tosser who drove from Stanwell bloody Park to Thi-bloody-roul at 40 bloody kph. At least I had 'Love Song Dedications: Most Memorable Moments' to keep me amused. Singing Celine Dion and Peter Cetera at the top of my lungs will do that. Singing Celine Dion down the phone to MrB (we were driving in convoy) is even better!

Father's Day Big Fat Downer = Borrowing chloroform from my mother to do what we should have done eons ago... Bye Bye Mr Rabbit. He is resting in peace in the freezer till we have the time to bury him under Miss H's window.

Father's Day = Awesome!

*The first batch of bunnies lasted 2 days, seeing as their mother completely ignored them. Which was sad, but there was nothing we could do.

Weekend at Bernies Part I

2007-09-03T10:00:00.000+10:00

Well, that was an interesting weekend. No wonder I slept the sleep of the dead last night!

How great is it to slowly wake up, with the duvet having settled around you in *such* a way to make the softest, warmest, snuggliest cocoon, to come gently to consciousness with a smile on your face - bliss!

I was so tired on Friday night, so bone-tired after a hectic week, and a hectic-er day, that all I wanted was to curl up and sleep for days. It didn't help that Miss I had been struck down with some gastro bug halfway through the afternoon... MrB had bought tickets for a show at The Heritage, was so very keen to go, and things just looked impossible. My parents decided to come down to stay and mind the kids, and basically forced us out the house.

So we walked to the gig, and I showed how completely unused I am to going Out, by presenting my hand palm-down for the stamp, just as if I was get a smiley-face from the bank. I am Such a retard.

MrB gets us drinks, I glance at the supporting act, feel a twinge of *something*, ignore it, then we go sit in a cosy corner booth to listen and wait for CW Stoneking to appear. The support guy is great, MrB is quietly impressed, as he's talking I think, 'Man this guy sounds frustratingly familiar'. Then he plays this Awesome slide-guitar version of 'Going Home' and I'm thinking 'Wow, God really wanted me to come out tonight!'. Then he mentions that he's a 33 year-old guy from the Shire and things just ker-plunk into place... I get up to take a better look at him, and yep, he was in my year at school, and I haven't seen him for 16 years. Insane.

His set finishes, so I wander over as he's picking up cables and whatnot (so technical, me) and yell 'Hey! Andrew!' and he looks up, and almost falls over in shock 'ActonB! What a blast from the past!' Hee! I do love having that effect on people... He packs up and comes over to chat with us, discovers MrB is as mad a blues fan as he is, and they become BFFs. Yayness. And CW Stoneking rocked in a completely incomprehensible way. And I girl-crushed on the tuba player... ah, you can take the girl out of the brass band, but you can't take the euphonium-love outta the girl.

We all exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch, do some quality picnicking at the beach with the families, that kind of thing. And now we're friends on Facebook, and I feel quietly and uncharacteristically happy about life.

We get home just after midnight, which would not normally be a problem, but for the fact that we were having a joint garage sale with our neighbours at 8am on Saturday. And I hadn't got anything out of the boxes, let alone priced them up. Whoops!

Pfft! I got up early, sorted the stuff, and stumbled over the road at 7:30. My poor neighbours had been dealing with the Professionals since 6am! So I spent the morning sitting in the sun, drinking coffee, sending my children back into the house for toast top-ups and selling stuff that would ordinarily be sent to charity. I've has worse days...

And Part II of my super-soaker weekend will come later, when I've actually done some work...

White Rabbit Syndrome

2007-08-30T08:21:00.000+10:00

I'm feeling a little tired this morning.

After spending most of the day yesterday cleaning the house from top to bottom (skirting boards included!), my back was killing and I was wiped out.

So I did took the sensible option and took myself off to bed (after Australian Idol of course - and wasn't that a waste of time?!).

And read all of First Among Sequels by Jasper Fforde.

It was pretty good. I'm a happy little fangirl...

Of course, this morning I was loath to wake up, seeing as I ain't Maggie Thatcher, and I can't function on 4 hours sleep. I'm an 8-a-night kind of girl. So when I was woken by MrB's alarm at 6am, I decided to take another sensible option and fall straight back asleep.

So as to not oversleep I very sensibly decided to take the precaution of sending a footnoterphone message to my sleeping self, reminding me when to wake up. I even mentioned this to MrB as I drifted back into slumber - I vaguely recall the 'WTF are you mumbling about Actonb?' response.

*lovely sleeping interlude*

*lovely long sleeping interlude*

Erm, unfortunately I didn't receive the message. This seriously confused me, as it seemed perfectly logical to me when I was asleep. There must have been a problem with reception...

Or, of course, it could have something to do with the fact that footnoterphone technology isn't as advanced as I thought. And it has no possibility of being advanced, so I can't even utilise the technology on the proviso that it is invented.

Bugger about that.

Now I'm late...

Sing it Out Loud!

2007-08-29T08:54:00.000+10:00

I was driving home the other day, listening to (or more accurately, shouting at) Richard Glover on 702 Sydney. One of his Cryptic Crooning clues was Going Home (from the Local Hero soundtrack) by Mark Knopfler, and I was so so happy when the winner of the quiz picked it to play 'into the news'...

It's one of my all-time favourite 'Turn Up the Radio and Sing your heart out' toons. Or in this case, Turn Up the Radio and Hum your heart out (with snazzy guitar riffs) It just makes me feel so incredibly joyous and happy and like flying...

(This is an OK version. A gorgeous cover version is here)

Other tracks which do this are:

The Tide is High by Blondie
Come On Eileen by Dexie's Midnight Runners
A Message to you Rudy by The Specials (I have a soft spot for ska)

and a couple of others which, despite me love, love, loving, I appear to have completely forgotten at this moment. Always the bloody way!

I do believe that this list dates me quite considerably!

Need to get the Weed'n'Feed, the Bindi's back.

2007-08-28T13:31:00.000+10:00

Oh. Dear. God.

Bindi strikes again

Bindi Irwin has launched her international modelling and fashion career.
Carrying a python, Bindi strutted down the "crocwalk" at the world's largest fashion trade show in Las Vegas on Monday, wearing clothes from her Bindi International fashion line... The fashion line is dubbed clothing with a conscience and is designed for newborns to 10-year-olds.

I know that Bindi-bagging is all the rage right now, but seriously? The girl is 9 years old and she's been pimped to such an extreme level that I think something needs to be done about it. All this garbage about her being 'just a normal kid' and being able to 'stop whenever she wants' is just bullshit. Utter utter bullshit.

What normal mother thinks that this is an OK way for a normal balanced child to be raised? And don't give me this twaddle about her being 'super-special and super-intelligent'. It's just wrong, and as a parent it pisses me off.

And also: what's the bet all this clothing is being made in China, hardly known for World's Best Practise when it comes to 'conscience' of any variety - environmental, humane - anything!

Urgh - girlfriend just creeps me the hell out. She's not even pretty, and I thought that was kind of a given for any prospective 'international module'... Sorry, it may seem off picking on the kid, but take it to her Management - they're responsible...

Dot Point Extranvaganza!

2007-08-27T11:14:00.000+10:00

* What we have feared has come to pass... The rabbits have started breeding. We came home from footy to discover 4 squirming squeaking blind babies. And I have come over all maternal and insisted on proper nesting material (an old towel) and lots of fresh greens for the nursing mother. I Am So Sad.

* Miss M and her team of Tigers thrashed the Wollongong Lions in the semis. This means a week off before the Grand Final. Miss M is the only girl in the entire U-10s comp, but tackles better than any of the boys - they have started calling her 'The Enforcer'. Miss I was parroting the yells and calls from the parents around her 'Clean him up M!' 'Take him out M!' - Hee!

* We went to a new church yesterday morning. Well, we've been before, but had got out of the habit - it's so easy to have other plans of a Sunday morning. But we made an effort to go to the local Baptist church again, and were overwhelmed by the welcome we got. Again. So I think we're pretty much settled on it. Time will tell.

It rocked to sing 'Amazing Grace' though.

* I am ridiculously excited about So You Think You Can Dance starting again this week. Stupidly, irrationally, dementedly excited.
I may be beyond help.
I am also thinking about hopping on the recap bandwagon, and recapping SYTYCD. I have a Snark Surplus building up and it needs expending - especially seeing as delicious has rudely stopped putting Jill Dupleix in wildly contrived poses.

What think you?

... Sitting in a tree

2007-08-23T20:20:00.000+10:00

Meva wrote an awesome post the other day.

Actually, not too sure if 'wrote' is the correct term... Meva 'did' an awesome post the other day, entitled 'Kiss'.

And it sparked a little burst of something in me. Something not easily pinned down. Something I can't quite put my finger on. A little dash of nostalgia, a pinch of yearning, a shot of sunshine.

And then I read on the (oh please, don't judge me) Australian Idol OS forums, some little fangirl squeeing about Matt Corby, and about how she dreamed of, like, OMG, kissing him all day...

And I giggled. Because I remember dreaming about kissing boys.

I remember when a kiss was the most intimate thing. Something lightyears beyond holding hands.

I remember that amazing thrill, that charge that reaches right down to the tips of your toes, when you experience the First Kiss.

I remember spending hours and hours

just

kissing.

But now, even though I'm probably getting more kisses than ever, most of them are of the snotty toddler variety. Or the too-cool-for-school 10 year old variety. Or the 'Honey, I'm home!' variety...

I think it's time to stop and smell the roses. And feel the kisses.

Oh Noes!

2007-08-20T14:39:00.002+10:00

Um Ah!

We iz BUSTED!!!

Richard Cullen of SurfControl, an internet filtering company, estimates the site may be costing Australian businesses $5 billion a year. "Our analysis shows that Facebook is the new, and costly, time-waster," he said.

It ain't the US subprime mortgage industry's woes that are causing all this stock market volatility, oh no! It's us Facebook slackers!

Besides, I thought that bludging was one of those all important 'Aussie Values' the pollies are always banging on about... I'm just doing my bit, is all.

For Mex

2007-08-16T15:38:00.000+10:00

Tis all wispy and layered. But I don't think you can tell from the photo. Seeing as I is sick and grotful.

And next I shall be investing in hair straighteners... woohoo! Let the girlification begin!

Woe is me...

2007-08-16T12:42:00.000+10:00

This post is brought to you by the awesome MrB and his wireless networking. I can now sit in bed, hacking my guts up and feeling decidedly seedy, and yet continue to inflict my annoyingness on the blogging fraternity!

Hee!!!
(And that's not just the lack of food/ overuse of paracetamol/ flu-related deliriousness talking)

I guess it had to happen. After all, one doesn't have 4 sick kiddies and get away unscathed does one? No. One doesn't.

On Tuesday night I was happily sitting on the kitchen floor chatting to the RevJen, discussing among other things:

dinner plans for this friday night (NOT in doubt. I'll just sit there and quietly fade away)
the AWESOMENESS of Die Hard 4.0 (This is a recurrent theme right now)
the AWESOMENESS of Hot Fuzz
the AWESOMENESS of the Clergywife sticking it to the Man
the snot-factories that are our children
how happy I am with my new fringe (remind me to post a photo later)

and feeling just fine and dandy... so then I toddle off to bed to do the SMH crossword as is my daily ritual and

WHAMMO!

suddenly I was just Pain and Suffering personified. It was weird. And y'know, painful.

Sore throat and shivering yuckiness. And an insane headache. But that seems to be the accessory of the season for me.

I spent the day sleeping yesterday, apart from sneaky excursions to the computer to leave cryptic and vague comments on people's blogs.

Right now I'm sitting in bed, listening to Augie March, crushing on this man:

Because he's a gobby so-and-so, and really Glenn Richards lyrics can wash over you, but my heart is beating to David William's drums right now.

Show and Tell

2007-08-14T10:32:00.000+10:00

Ok.

So.

Good things about the weekend:

Die Hard 4.0 rocks. Although I may have given you this impression already. Bruce Willis? He also rocks the 50s in his own unique way. Yes sirree.

I had lunch with my Gang, my Posse, my Homegirls. That also rocked, but in a far more civilised way, mainly because Verdehlo was involved. Verdehlo and lamb salad. And talk and love. All good stuff, I'm sure you agree. And dates were set for brunch at Bathers, to ensure that it's not another 10 bloody months till we all get together again.

The weather was glorious and sunny and quite delightful.

Bad things about the weekend:

The green snot just keeps coming. There's only so much ewww I can handle at the moment.

And now the Big Girls are displaying flu-like symptoms.

Girls + Cronulla Brunch = 3 hours of pure and unmitigated stress. I think we shall have to put such activities on hold for a while. MrB and I were completely worn out, with every nerve jangling. Not fun.

Also not fun: Going off to Franklins for BBQ sauce, napkins and juice (because I'm a cheapskate) and coming back to discover ALL the chips and fish cocktails had been eaten. And being too worn down to even care...

And now I'm at home for the second day this week, with sick kiddies and the beginnings of a cold myself. I ask you: Does life get any better than this???? (rhetorical question)

Well, two actually...

2007-08-11T07:59:00.000+10:00

TOTALLY AWESOME!!!!!

One word...

2007-08-11T07:58:00.001+10:00

AWESOME!!!!!!!

My Guilty Secret

2007-08-09T10:59:00.001+10:00

I'm probably about to alienate a whole bunch of my readers but this little review has made me very very very happy.

Paul Byrnes (the SMH movie reviewer) gives Die Hard 4.0 4 beautiful stars.

Yay!

I adore the Die Hard movies.

I adore Bruce Willis.

If there's one movie I'm going to see this year, it will be this one.

Yippee-ki-yay!

WDTAOMC

2007-08-08T21:14:00.000+10:00

For those Miss H fans out there - there is a post on WDTAOK dedicated to her...

Arglepops

2007-08-08T12:10:00.001+10:00

Have a headache.

Work is being... shite.

I have a feeling of dread and uneasiness and it can best be summed up by this post by The Man At The Pub.

Argh Indeed.

And looky what we have here: an interest rate rise. Well, blow me down, I didn't see that coming.

Is it just me, or is everything shit?

Bonk!

2007-08-02T15:16:00.000+10:00

From LOLcats of course.

Just how I'm feeling this afternoon - as well as being in a sharing kinda mood.

Delicious Snark #5

2007-08-02T10:55:00.000+10:00

In honour of our lovely W heading off overseas, I present to you our delightful Ms D in all her delicious glory.

Problem is, I can't find much wrong with this photo, nothing to snark about. This makes me very sad. And is simply further proof that Australia is going to hell in a handbasket. I mean, if a girl can't snark about her favourite over-exposed chef, then what's to become of her?

She doesn't even look too uncomfortable sitting there at the Hard Rock Cafe. Her teeth are present and accounted for, and I'm starting to worry about that lazy eye of hers, but seriously guys? What's to deconstruct?

Very disappointing.

Maybe you can help? Maybe this is how my lurker (now up to August 06 in the archives) can introduce themselves?

Singing in the Shower

2007-08-01T08:24:00.000+10:00

I was in the shower this morning, reading the bottles of shampoo, cleanser, shaving cream... as you do. MrB's shaving gel has an interesting instruction written thereon:

Take a hazelnut-sized blob of gel in your palm...

Hazelnut-sized? That's pretty... random.

What if you're severely allergic and come out in hives at the mere mention of nuts?
What if you are horrendously poor and have never had the privilege of nibbling on Nobby's nuts?

But then I got to thinking, what else is hazelnut-sized? Maybe they wracked their little German minds, and this was all they could come up with to quantify the 5.76gm blob they suggest you use?

I dunno. Am befuddled.

And all this is to clear my mind of what I read in the papers today. I just want to weep with the overwhelming sadness and hopelessness I feel burdened with. New police powers to search and monitor, with NO accountability but to the Minister in charge - no place for judicial oversight?

What Brave New World are we living in?

Hey - YOU!

2007-07-31T10:19:00.000+10:00

Okay, I realise that the whole point of a Blog is that it is public and yada yada yada..

But to Whoever is going through my blog, post by post, and has spent at least 6 hours over the last two days doing so...

You are freaking me THE HELL out.

Please, just make a comment, give me a virtual wave, because I am having an attack of the heebie-jeebies and am seriously considering going private...

**** UPDATE: The lurker rang me. She is one of my very very good friends from uni - is actually referred to in my 'cast list' post. Another of our little posse told her about the blog on the weekend, so she'd been doing some intensive catching-up.

Everyone can stand down now, the catastophe has been averted.****