Friday, October 30, 2009
I'm sorry of it seems like I am going ape with the photos, but I've only had net access at work and have been unable to download any of the pictures I've been taking. There were over 500 on the camera, but I shan't inflict them all on yea.
This is a pretty tree that I saw opposite my eldest sisters new house.
And this is a little hall-type-building (possibly a church, I am sorry I don't actually know) that I passed on the way to watch one of my nieces perform in the estedford (sp?)
i've been using it to twist posters into a tighter roll
like winding a cassette tape
today has a very friday feel to it
which is good because it is friday
but its more than a friday
its like the last day before holidays
i am not much one for swimming pools, but today is very much lazing about with bbqs and swimming pools and maybe even dogs, though i am not much one for dogs either, which is probably why i am envisaging chucking the ball into the pool for the dog to chase - hahahahaha
somebody bring me some sangria, please
I've been googling the prices of aged wine.
I don't know the names of the wineries etc, so this is only a very very rough guestimate but it would appear that I have quaffed approximately $3,600 dollars worth of booze in the last month or so.
Possibly quite a lot more.
He's always thought I am incredibly perceptive under by flibbertigibbet exterior because I gave him a t-shirt that said "I've been a naughty girl, please spank me" before anybody knew of his preferences.
Apparently his mother used to try and pick the 'girl' off with her fingernail - lol
(they'd run out of 'I've been a naughty boy' shirts and it just seemed so appropriate as he was such a stirrer)
i greet the day with stumbles and bleary eyes
coffee I mumble then stagger up the slight rise
toward office and a chair
in which to slump and brush hair
slowly waking enough to check what clothes I wear
i find it good that i have thought to don vest
to cover up wrinkled shirt i grabbed when getting dressed
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Barry Hugharts trilogy starting with Bridge of Birds
Lois McMaster Bujold books
George MacDonald Frasers three books about his time in the Highland Regiment
Don Camilo books (I dont' actually have these now but they are on my list to buy)
Barbara Hambly's Darwarthe (sp?) books
Simon R Greene - excluding DeathStalker Series which I didn't really like much
Mercedes Lackey's Magics Price trilogy
Welcome to Temptation by Jennifer Cruise
ZigZag Street by Nick Earls
Headgames by Nick Earls
Bait on a Hook by Frank Parrish
Swimming to Cambodia by Spalding Grey (or is it Gray?)
Books I might buy again -
Laurell K Hamilton's Anita Blake and Merry Gentry series
Janet Evanovich's Stephen Plum series
mmm still thinking. Might have a look around tonight at home and update this further. Might help me slim my book collection down
I would appear to be rather fond of series of books, rather than stand alone books - I wonder if this indicates repressed soap-opera tendancies?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Inside is as dark as the back of a draw inside a cupboard in a closed room with no windows on a boat lost at sea
Storm tossed and debris strewn
Ever vigilant to save others from ruin
I shine a light out
Soft and guiding
Where’s my lighthouse
(en bah - all i could come up with *shrugs* - poster inventrying is mind numbing)
I don't know if I can do anything about lighthouses. Nothing is springing to mind. His was so nice too. I am imagining it as a song, but not imagining music, because I am not at all musical, even if I do sing unremittently and unrelentingly.
Whilst babysitting last night we broke into song, my nieces and I. I have Glee to thank for something. They have sung "Walking on Sunshine" on their show, so we have some songs in common at present.
My youngest niece (11) did air guitar to it and spun around on the floor on her back. Was hilarious and well done. Her older sister looked at her with rolled death eyes for a) being good b) being silly c) for taking the attention away from herself.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
A year or two ago I read an article asking for volunteers to learn to smock. It was a small group of people who made and donate to the local hospital little dresses for still-born babies to be buried in. Darn near cried reading the stoopid article, but I can't sow.
Probably the beanie knitting isn't going to work out either, but what the heck, right?
I finished mine quickly. Skim read and passed. Hundred percent in some sections. Will have learnt very little from it because I just don't retain stuff. I need checklists and reference books and practice to be competent at something.
Other lady in office will derive something from the course. Will actually learn and remember and be able to put into practice what she has learnt and go on to be able to problem solve based on what she has learnt. Has failed a section dismally because the questions are worded strangely and she is thinking too hard about her answers.
They usually come on a Wednesday or Thursday, though I wasn't unhappy with a Monday. Perhaps it was a typo and they meant 28th and not 26th?
I shall have to ring *whimper*
Monday, October 26, 2009
I have one of those camping chairs - the ones that seems to foldout like a spider, rather than the director's chair type - it was always just a little bit too small for me. Certainly I was too heavy for it. It's not very old at all, but already coming apart at the seams.
I've just been given an old recliner, but was going to keep the other one because Sookie-cat likes it. But then I got to thinking ... I have all this old newspaper and I've been wanting to try papermaching something - why don't I papermache the chair?
And then I thought ... I could papermache a bookcase too. Make that cheap flatpack thing look funky. Like an old tree or something. And then I started thinking, what if I made a bookcase from scratch with papermache! How awesome would that be.
And then ... THEN ... I started thinking, by golly - I only have a dozen bottles of wine left - I think I've given myself brain damage and isn't it a luckily thing I don't have any money until Thursday and am therefore completely unable to buy a bag of flour with which to make glue.
I am terribly sorry.
Will attempt something like restraint.
(even though it isn't my middle name)
Guilty Confession: I watched some of that Twilight movie last night at my sisters house and have since borrowed the book off my nieces - which they are terrible pleased about - I am quite enjoying it. I know, I know. Trashy popularist shite. Robert looked very pretty with all that makeup and he did the lean thing, which makes my knees go weak. I can't help it. I have hormones.
but wait. There is more. Cause then my mind wandered off to here ...
and then I thought - oh god, they are terrible! Maybe I should play with the blood angel.
... and he towered over our weeping bodies
that bloody angel
stained with righteous gore
and one protested
why strike us now?
when you have not before
I was thinking of other things
it deign to reply
It is hard to see the goings on of such small things
So all in all I think it best I abandon these and have a think about caves - lol
Possibly I'd have better results if I had some sort of plan before I start to write, but all I do is find an object or phrase, find another one to go with it and then see where the rhymes take me. Maybe one sentence planned in the whole thing.
I think that is what I always like so much about Glenn Richards songs. There is a mulch of varying ideas, references and word plays buried in them.
Though admittedly the main appeal of one of my favourites Thin Captain Crackers is that he mentions vomiting so delicately. Probably he never has actually woken up by the side of the road after a session. Or perhaps he has? I’ve always felt like I missed out on a lot by not gaining a university education. Still. I would have been at the James Cook Uni if I did and my sister tells me they used to have a rapist who lept out of bushes at girls with a tomahawk, so perhaps best I did not, considering my propensity to attract lunatics.
I found out recently that the park I had been stumbling around in one night after an ill-judged amount of alcohol consumed - and which possibly I might have had a small kip in, I don't really know, I don't remember - has crocodiles.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
My waiter asked if I wanted cracked pepper.
I am shattered.
He very nearly had an australian accent with it too.
The paranoid part of me is now worried he's seen my blog, but of course that is ridiculous and I didn't order eggs benedict this morning after all. Perhaps he thought I only don't like pepper on my eggs benedict and that he should ask.
I had coffee today too instead of the tea I've supped of late. It was half foam, which I did not mind. Sometimes its nice to spoon the foam into ones mouth. Childlike fun.
Fried eggs and bacon and mushrooms and beans.
Beans were odd. Almost sweet. Almost sour. Strange. Not what I am used to in a bean.
I had the place to myself, you see, so I ordered eggs and bacon because I am a very messy eater and place the egg on the side of toast and eat with my hands, dribbling the yolk onto the plate and then mopping it up with the corner of toast that is usually left. Crumbs go everywhere and I invariably end up with yolk on my face. I can only order it if there is nobody around.
Ditto the BLT because they serve it as an open sandwich and the mayo makes everything slippery.
But then the place became distressingly busy. Lucky I'd finished my eggs. I eat the rest with a knife and folk, in case you were worrying about it.
Sooo yummy. When food is good I cannot help but hum a little to myself and tap my feet. Perhaps I dance a little in my chair too. I try to be discrete, but the twirling of the fork and the little spinning swirls I make with the tip of the knife are probably noticable.
I am going to go waddle off to my scooter.
I need to go have a lie down now.Ciao :)
It sat solitary
Polished by wind and rain
As if deep in thought
(though sans brain)
Sometimes a finger bone would twitch and tap
On the rock on which it sat
As time past, dirt and dust
Accumulated within crevices
And weeds sprang up from ground
twisting and twining around
A semblance of form was given
Organic, green and living
And the skeleton decided it had grown as a person
And got up and walked away
Friday, October 23, 2009
Yes. Thank you Ethel. *makes obscene gesture*
(*Ethel is my nasty inner voice)
Ethel says in pretend sobbing voice "i am not sure I remember what a happy Christmas is like" boo hoo hoo
"Shut up Ethel" snaps Sam with death look
"you shut up"
"No you shut up"
"no you shut up"
*Sam and Ethel start fighting and knock over the coffee able and break the vase*
More than cry, I think. She had already been crying when she called me. Probably had been crying off and on since yesterday evening when she spoke to the eldest. Eldest encouraged mother to have Christmas lunch with her husbands family when she visits.
So ... she was fragile when she called anyway.
Mother reacted to the above encouragement to come to Sister-with-three-children's home for the ceremonial opening of the presents, adjourn to Italian Sister-in-law's home (who loves cooking and dinner parties, but never gets to have them very often and who would die with pleasure to have company for Christmas) for lunch; then go have a nap in the privacy of her hotel room before coming back to one of the sister's places for dinner and drinks by deciding to mother me.
She keeps trying to buy things for me. Big things. Like a new scooter or pay for private health cover etc for me. But mother doesn't do gifts. These are all things that I would be in debt to her for. It's always something I would need to pay back. If I let her do one thing it will snowball until it gets back to her trying to get me to move back in with her again, so she can drag me about like I am a teacup Chihuahua in a handbag.
I girded my loins. I was calm. I was firm. I said no thank you. I didn't want to do anything like that until I had a permanent job. She talked over me. I said no thank you. She said don't be stupid-I'm your mother-why can't I do this for you. I said I'd rather not. She said but Why?! I said I'd rather not. She said but why? I said, I am not going to fight with you about this - I would rather not. There may have been a few more but whys. No is not a word I attempt to say to her very often because she just doesn't hear it. I am easily railroaded.
The silence was deafening. It was like I'd stabbed her. She sounded so broken when she choked out "i have to go now" and hung-up.
It was 7:30 pm. I didn't even drink this time, which is a more usual reaction to chats with mother. I just went to bed and pulled the blanket over my head like I used to when I was hiding from the monsters in the cupboard.
Today I cannot help but ponder upon what will happen next. One possiblity is that she is going to not come at Christmas. If she does come, it will not be a happy Christmas.
I am not sure I remember what a happy Christmas is like.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
I won’t throw it away
Maybe it will come in handy someday?
A purpose might pop up
For which it would be key
To have a pocket sized skeleton on hand, you see
And its not as if one stumbles across one every day
so conveniently sized for tucking away
I’m sure I’ll find a use for it someday
My bones an ivory hue
I was sleepily curled up in bed with you
And there were indents in your flesh
Where I’d wrapped my radius around your chest
And just as I was about to whisper my love of you in breathless sigh
You complained my patella was digging into your thigh
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
all this ceasing of chatter is causing me
to babble incontinently
into the ether to make up for the lack
or perhaps sloughing of needless things
but what is there left for me to cling?
and clutch and cluck
from my own reason for needing to throw words adrift
Upon response of 'huh?'
She quotes "There are only two kinds of people in the world. Those that have zombie plans and those that don't. We like to call them dinner."
they are even trying to be interactive with a picture of a pyramid that you click on to turn the sides and containing little headings that you have to hover your mouse over to read a floating text box that comes up
possibly it would be interesting and informative if somebody pumped me full of drugs first? eg:
ooo look! a pretty box
now its gone :(
now its back :)
now its gone :(
now its back :)
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
"Horseshoe B Longhorns - Texas Longhorn Wagon Tours. Situated just 10 kilometres from Charters Towers and 2009 North Queensland Tourism Award winner.
Join them on a horse drawn western canvas covered wagon ride and see the largest herd of purebred Texas Longhorns in the country; direct descendents of the 'wild west' cattle that walked the great cattle drives from Texas to Kansas, Montana and other northern markets in the late 1800's.
On the wagon ride you will see magnificent trophy steers as well as the longest horned Texas Longhorn steer in Australia. The wagon ride also gives people a chance to see kangaroos and other native animals from the back of the covered wagon while travelling quietly through the bush drawn by a pair of magnificent 'gentle giant' draft horses; you will also learn some of the interesting history of these famous cattle.
Before the wagon ride enjoy a hearty 'bush smoko' at the Leahton Park homestead then join renowned saddle maker Michael Bethel on a demo/tour of the Bethel Saddle custom saddle shop. There is nowhere else in Australia that you can do this - a truly unique experience."
Monday, October 19, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
feels the need to declare when she is about to sneeze
and even when it comes on suddenly
still attempts to warn out of courtesy
thou sometimes it can be a little hard to understand
when she sneezes her words into her hand
Tell me who can
Catch a toucan?
Just how few can
Ride the toucan?
What kind of goo can
Stick you to the toucan?
Who can write some
More about the toucan?
No shel, no I can’t
She said reading the last line askant
And refraining from lapsing into rant
The only other rhyme that comes to mind for toucan
So I sharn’t
So this other blog I read have a poetry post on fridays. Todays was a death poem. Decided to google death poems, cause I quite liked bits of the one that was up. Got this:
Loser by Shel Silverstein
Mama said I'd lose my head
If it wasn't fastened on.
Today I guess it wasn't
'Cause while playing with my cousin
It fell off and rolled away
And now its gone.
And I can't look for it
'Cause my eyes are in it,
And I can't call to it
'Cause my mouth is on it
(Couldn't hear me anyway
'Cause my ears are on it),
Can't even think about it
'Cause my brain is in it.
So I guess I'll sit down
On this rock
And rest for just a minute
I am going to be 38 in another 50 or few days.
Do you suppose she is ever going to stop doing this to me?
Lucky it wasn't an after dark activity. She doesn't seem to think I should leave the house after dark unless I am with a group of family or friends.
wish i'd taken a photo monday while it was still fresh
didn't have my camera with me :)
Jesus - second coming - cynical city person doesn't believe - Jesus turns water into perfect latte - city person bowed down before him on knees with word bubble saying "Messiah"
i am too lazy to actually draw it out
probably it has already been done before anyway
- Feel like death warmed over. Did I mistakenly take something other than my nightly nurofen last night? (take three neurofin before going to bed every night, as arthritis is worst in mornings)
- Had no work shirts left this morning, so am wearing uniform shirt from previous job with vest to cover up logo.
- Must remember to call to get gas reconnected. I am sick of sandwiches and tinned things.
- Must remember to book scooter in for desperately needed service.
- Have inspection coming up and must must must clean.
- Am up to Page 35 of "And Another Thing" by Eoin Colfer allegedly part six of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and I kind of hate it.
- Woman at work is telling me how much she loved that travesty of a movie that they made of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, of which the only good thing was the opening musical number.
- woman who gifted bicycle coming to unjam the chain this evening - perhaps should try and tidy the loungeroom a little just in case she gets a peek in?
- Oh fuck! what if she needs to wash her hands after? I need to mop the kitchen floor and put the rubbish out too!
- And I'll need to air it out and put the kitty litter elsewhere and lock the cats in the other half of the house so that i can open the windows
Scooter booked in. In past have had a months wait, but is booked for next wednesday. had not actually budgeted for scooter service this pay week.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
it is a beautiful day outside
a hint of dust in the air
gives a summer haze to the day
i should be in my hammock with a long island iced tea or a blowed-up tire floating in a pool or snuggled up with someone cuddly on a blanket in a park
I am in a terribly cuddly mood today
(though feel I should specify this is not action cuddling - snuggly cuddling I am talking about here - where one snoozes with ones face nuzzled into the join of neck and shoulder)
if some passing godlike being could just turn me into a cat for the day and I would be content
Well ... when I say slept in I mean that I woke up at 6 am and then shoved my head under the pillow again until I felt like getting out of bed, which I think is even better than actually sleeping. Awake but sleepy leaves me able to daydream vividly but maintain control and I had lovely snuggly daydreams.
when cats are feeling super affectionate and cuddly, they seem to be able to make their fur softer and fluffier. As if to invite touch. That's what my skin feels like this morning (at least, in my head it does). I feel like I could purr.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
I slept in. Flung myself from bed at 6:24 fed cats, grabbed clothes and without stopping to brush teeth lept aboard bike and took off. The cats were bewildered and scared at this strange aberation from routine.
I get to end of street and realise it is rubbish collection day and that I have a full (and stinking) bin that I have forgotten to put out.
Cursing I return, deposit bin on kerb at sprint, bound aboard bike again and wobble off for my 6 kilometre ride to work. Don't even get to end of street. Am changing gears and the chain comes off. I haven't ridden regularly since high school which is a good twenty-five years ago. Cudgel brain for how to do this again. Vague memory of it being relatively straightforward. Chain is jammed between cog and bike frame. I pull. I tug. I put foot to frame and lean back with my sadly considerable weight. It does not budge. My hands are black with grease.
I walk bike home. I see if I can lever chain out with spoon lying on outdoor table. Spoon bends.
Contemplate faking car accident by flinging myself from top of stairs, but live in lowset house.
Scooter to work and go have breakfast at cafe and console myself with loose leaf tea, whilst shuddering inwardly at the thought that I am probably going to have to ride to work for a week to prove to my co-workers that I am not a piker.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
What was I saying?
Oh yes ... I am giving up on this getting into shape for my fortieth birthday lark and making myself fit for potential frolicking with members of the opposite sex. Screw it. I shall continue to attempt to accustom myself with the bicycle because it is kind of pleasant and also a cheap form of transport, but other than that - I say to heck with it. I have come to realise from my many musings on the subject of late that I can't even imagine living with somebody else. Or of actually mopping the floor on a regular basis. I think I am far to stuck in my ways.
I am going to buy a vibrator on the weekend and plant a herb garden instead.
i am trying to remember and am coming up lacking
there was dinner time, of course, but dinner was such a formallised afair (though not formal) - ritual phrases, nodding and agreeing (as was ones unwritten role) and the nagging ... o the nagging
i imagined somebody who whilst agreeing i needed to exercise, did not ask if i had done anything that day, or remarking on the tightening fit of my clothes (as i have heard in other couples) - instead he would take me for a walk every evening - no talk of current affairs or ones day at work - no necessity to think and interact - just hands held and gentle stroll - it was cold and we had coats on and I snuggled in to his side because I am a wimp and hate the cold and there weren't lots of street lights and I think we were near a park
i say take, because there is always going to be an element of reluctance on my part because i don't and never have enjoyed exercise and mostly walking bores me
and really ... who is going to want to do that?
probably both of us would be better off getting a dog
he would get dependable unconditional affection and attention and for me i'd be taking the poor thing for a walk out of a sense of guilt - guilt for my slackness is a solid tried and true tested motivator
i don't think the cats would like having a dog around
i am not sure i like dogs that much either
goats are kind of funky though
i wonder if you need a goat licence?
one of my sisters has been talking about getting a pet goat
Three times last night. Some young fluffy ginger thing.
Got to see a bat come in to land on a branch of a small tree, planted on the opposite sidewalk, land just a little too hard and break the branch. I'd seen broken branches there before and blamed passing feral children. It fell tangled and indignified to the ground before flunging itself back airborne and away from the scene of its humiliation - lol.
I had thought the white part-persian cat, which had been disputing with a tabby male in the common battle ground of the deserted house next door, was gone. Things have been quiet. But I saw him walking down the middle of the street last night like a king. Guess I know who won now.
I wish I had a infra-red vision camera to record the goings on outside my little duplex of a night. I squirm with curiousity :)
Monday, October 12, 2009
Can you get thrush in the hand?
I know you can get it in your digestive system
not in the hand
but potentially on the nipples if breastfeeding
eeeeeppppppp - soo totally never having children
still a nice distraction from the indignity of applying yoghurt to ones nether-regions
Edit: potentially amusing situation if lived in share house and somebody else ate the yoghurt - reminiscent of that scene with the jam in Bachelor Kisses
Edit Edit: although they had a lot more fun arriving at that situation then one would with mine
After a weekend of cuddles, pats and company; when I leave the house to go to work he rushes to the window overlooking the carport and makes mournful meows at me as I don helmet and back scooter out.
It's not quite so marked on other mornings. It is only Mondays that break his heart.
Dreams last night were of sad goodbyes at airports. I was leaving and would not seeing him again for a long time or if ever. Guiltily I confess, I rather enjoyed the desperate clutch and near to tears kisses. Perhaps one day my imagination will gift me with a face for this amorphous man who was wishing I wasn't going, but perhaps it is better this way. If it put a face I knew to him it would put me to the blush.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Not all the time, but just now and then?
The delightful french boy has remembered I don't have pepper on my eggs benedict, so I did not get to hear him say 'crack-ed pepper' this morning.
He did however ask a group of people if they wanted a table in the shadow. Woman said 'yes i would like to sit in the shade'. She and her two companions then sat forcfully stoic until he was out of earshot and then had themselves a giggle.
I wanted to throw my parsley at them.
I am a greedy hedionistic woman with no self control and appear to be making a determined dent into the four dozen bottles of wine my sister offloaded onto me now that she isn't drinking anymore, much to the detriment of my health. My bones protest, but my tastebuds say YES. Something red and wonderful last night. The label has come off so I can't tell you want it is, other than nectar of the gods.
I am not presenting well on a Saturday morning. Unwashed untidy hair. Heavy hungover eyes. I don't know why the french boy smiles so nicely to me, but I am glad he does *sigh*
I had the oddest dream the other week. I wasn't going to tell anybody, but anyway. Dan Kelly was in it. I think because I was looking forward to the alleged blogging of the album recording. Have read the tour diary he wrote when he was travelling with Holly Throsby and it was very funny and I have been so bored lately.
Anyway, in the dream DK was going to be performing at the civic theatre. It was not specified in the dream whether it was Paul Kelly performing and DK was in the band or not, but anyway - point being he was going to be in Townsville.
In the dream he messages me on myspace to go buy them all fish and chips and bring it to the civic theatre. Phone numbers are exchanged. Whilst I am at the fish and chip shop he txts to get calamari too. I snarkily txt back do you want bugs as well? The response is yes. I am cranky at having to spend so much money on them and being asked to 'fetch', but put that aside and get some pineapple rings too, for dessert, as a nice gesture.
A very awkward bundle to try and carry to the civic theatre on my scooter. Some packets fit into the storage compartment under the seat, but the rest I am having to put in one of thos green canvas environmentally friendly bags and sling across my back. It is a hot, painful, uncomfortable trip.
So I bring them and go to the box office area and they aren't letting me in, of course, thinking me a mad stalker or something. I txt DK and he says to bring them round the back. pfft. So then I have to trudge all the way round the back. I am being all repressed cranky. Somebody lets me in and I deliver the fish and chips and everybody tucks in and I am mostly ignored cause they are talking about set up stuff/etc AND NOBODY EATS THE PINEAPPLE RINGS. The bastards!
Friday, October 9, 2009
From distant relatives, close friends, wedding gossip and chortles
Spewing lolls wtfs and omg though an electronic maze
Of servers and wires 24/7 days
I cursorily ponder past contained things missing
From this modern form of communicating,
like apostrophes, grammar and perhaps a brain
Before sentences were started and put in train
Where once a first draft and critical eye
Were cast o’er letter before sealed, sent and espied
Instead are now drunkenly texted from where’er able
Be it home, work, parks, cars or toilet cubicles
I am out of practice d'oh - it seemed like a good idea at the time - perhaps I shall have a go at this tomorrow? though probably not :D
i wanted to try and work in something about at least with emails you don't have to worry if somebody has washed their hands before sending a letter/missive - but I am just not in the zone.
There are so many things I should do this weekend, but fear I will probably spend the days sleeping and hanging in the hammock instead.
Just can't get excited about anything at the moment.
Perhaps that is good. Perhaps in consequence I shall be ruthless sorting though my belongings and throw lots of stuff out so that I can actually achieve something close to neatness which would have a positive effect on my cleanliness (much easier to sweep when you can see the floor)
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
I don't recall now whether I read too much into text or if it was a memory issue or just my overactive imagination, but obviously it is an ongoing weakness, because when I read Dan Kelly's missive on his site "I intend to blog the whole thing" when informing his public he was heading off to start recording his new album, I thought this meant he was going to blog the whole thing ... and post it on his site. *slaps self in forehead* How stoopid of me. My personal failings rearing their ugly head and waggle their bum in my direction.
oh well, at least i can read clocks now.
that's good, right?
i can juggle too
and i can balance a water bottle on my nose ... if i stuff a couple of pens up my nostrils (photos of that were on an old blog - got the photo around somewhere)
Edit: found it
O - M - G
the woman i share an office with has just said Armageddon is her favourite movie and that she cries everytime she watches it
Edit: okay, she has qualified her statement - she says it is her favourite disaster movie - i shall hold off on throwing rotten vegetable matter at her
subject arrived at from casual comment of mine regarding a person being gorgeous - she asked if i meant my gorgeous or her gorgeous (she has previously rubbished my preference for big brown eyes)
my stance - interesting face and personality (eg Steve Buscemi)
her stance - arse; gorgeous to her is good body and a face that doesn't require a paper bag (eg Vin Diesel)
i don't care so much about the body side of things, possibly partially because i don't feel i am in a position to throw stones - perhaps after i tone up, lose 30 kilo and actually remember to brush my hair before i leave the house - perhaps then i might feel i can demand beautiful eyes, good personality and buns of steel
though really ... everybody gets old and wrinkly - bodies fall apart - seems silly to get attached
Monday, October 5, 2009
It’s a running dialogue. Do I want this? Should I get that? I know I want it, but do I need it?
And I answer myself.
You only want it, you don’t need it. You’re supposed to be saving, but fuck it, ey? And I buy it anyway.
Other times I say to myself, i say ‘my middle name is potentially restraint’. Originally I said ‘your middle name is restraint’ but since it isn’t, it felt kind of like I was lying, but potentially my middle name could be restraint because I could change it with Births, Deaths and Marriages, so then it isn’t entirely a fib and I wonder if I really changed my middle name to restraint whether it would be more effective, because at this point it doesn’t work very well.
Sometimes after an involved argument with myself I realise I have forgotten to look around first to see if there are witnesses within hearing range.
and there are words again
though not many
but still a picture
though not sticking to rule of hand
and its all oblique
or perhaps i am just not bright today
or just not in the know
and therefore what seems obscure to me is perfectly understandable to others
and i wonder if he minds that i use a possessive when referring to him and his blog? does anybody else? when i talk of you to others, or even to myself, you are my bloggers, my favourite blog, my hell boy, my kettle, my projectivist, my favourite band and other times, when i am particularly impressed with you I grow more formal in homage, Mister Squires, Ma'am Squib, Madame Projectivist
is it a thing of childhood - my school, my bag - that should have been left behind?
I shall ruminate on my habit of exclaiming out loud and talking to the blog posts another time :) (eg. where the bloody hell are you going with this one Georgie, before i hit the link to jump to the rest of the story)
Note to self: buy garbage bags for all the weeds and dug up grass.
I have been given a bicycle but I've not really ridden it yet.
I planned to ride it home after my sister dropped me off to pick it up, but she looked doubtfully at me when I imparted my plan to her and instead offerred to ride it back for me, unless it had easy release wheels, which it did, so we loaded it into the boot instead along with my sadly punctured bravado.
I shall be brave. I shall ride it every night this week to the shops and back until I get used to the cross bar and the casual humiliation of having to hop on one leg until the bike is lent over enough for me to get off, since I can't swing my leg over the damn cross bar and there is a basket on the back preventing me from going from that direction.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Somebody mentioned that 'Little Birdy' were playing tonight, so I have purchased a ticket.
Tomorrow my sister and I visit Bunnings to buy me a shovel. Somebody from work is giving - i repeat giving - me a pushbike. My sister will drop me off at midday and I shall attempt to ride the thing home. It will take a while. I may have a heart attack. But if I live, I might go to the Kite Festival at the Strand.
Sunday morning I am going to a movie with a couple of people from work.
When am I going to find time to read the latest Terry Pratchett book?
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Curled in bean bag
Arm cuddled round
There is no room for you
You sit in the chair
Companionably place your hand on my hair
It is nearly night
We do not break the quiet
To speak would invite spite
Together too long
Communication only leads to boredom
But when silence rules
Irritation with repetition ebbs
Letting bodies relax into familiar grooves
And habits long established
Of comfort and care
Like curling up close by your chair
While you rest your hand on my hair
Coffee is a wonderful thing :)