And then!

 And then I got yelled at by a policeman on the way home!  Friday sucked.

(there was a car accident and the tow truck was loading the car on my side of the road, so I waited until the tray had finished moving, but apparently the policeman had been motioning me forward to the other side of the road at the time and he thought I was just gawking at the accident)

Avast

I foolishly decided to sleep in this morning, so now my neck is hurting again - sigh

Strange dreams - the wooden spears from the program on Neanderthals made an appearance whilst we were trying to break into a warehouse around 9:30 ish.  I lived in a much nicer house, but all my neighbours were nuts and the cats got out.  There was some kind of emergency which required digging a trench in the yard of the deserted house next door to me and they were all tramping through my house gossiping about eachother.  One of the neighbours had lost his goat and was blaming his cat for his misfortune. 

I decided to get out of bed before my dream-self was forced to mount a raid to rescue the allegedly goat harassing cat from the clutches of its large, simple-minded owner intent on revenge.

Besides I have a mission for today.  I have to fill in my participation record and drop it off at Centrelink and advise them I have a months temp work starting Monday.  Prevarication is unacceptable (as it will mean I would miss out on my lone partial New Start Allowance payment which I need to get me through until my first fortnightly pay)

Avaunt!

Walking carefully through

Alcohol is a wonderful thing. 

I wiped myself out last night, changed my pillow and voila ... I wake without pain.  I have avoided the evil lounge chair just to be on the safe side and am sitting terribly proper.  Like I have a stick up my arse. 

I have confirmation on the months temp work and start Monday.  In a two or three weeks time when my first pay comes through I shall be able to go out for Saturday breakfast again like I used too, though perhaps I shouldn't?  Perhaps I should squirrel money away for later.  That would be sensible.  I am rarely sensible. 

I wonder what it would be like to be sensible?  An orderly existence.  I would probably own a house by now and not as many cats.  Probably I would have been married to Geoffrey for the last fifteen years and be struggling with moody teenage children.

I wonder if I would have let them paint their rooms black?

Flappy hand wave

It is  2 pm on a Tuesday and I am a little tipsy.  My neck wouldn't stop hurting, so I scootered over to my brother-in-laws to drink his wine. 

I feel a great deal better now :)

It is currently 31 degrees and 66% humidity.  It is raining a bit at night, just to make things nice and steamy during the day.  The sun is shining.  There are fluffy white clouds in the sky.  I woke briefly at dawn to a window of peach deliciousness.  So beautiful.

Peaseblossom has taken to sharpening his claws on my book of the complete works of Shakespeare (given to me by my Uncle Sidney when I was nine or ten after I waxed enthusiastic after getting to see a version of Midsummer Nights Dream one day when I was home sick - I think Judie Dench was in it).  A judgment on me perhaps, for naming him after a fairy?  He is a delightfully muscular cat and I patted him into a helpless dribbling ball of fluff this morning.  I've had quite a snugly feline friendly morning.

I am re-reading Tom Holt's "Only Human" and listening to 'Watch Me Disappear' as I go to sleep at nights.

I had a moment yesterday whilst knitting the latest scarf - I imagined I was wearing the completed version and somebody had complimented it and I replied 'yes it's lovely isn't it?  I skinned a muppet" and at their look of disbelieve I explained 'well, a few muppets' and then went on with ' oh but don't worry - they were feral muppets.  something had to be done.  they were eating all the raisons'.

Hello

Dearly Beloved

(there always seems to be a bit missing when i type that word - be-love-er-ed is more how I say it)

I have had a most miserable weekend.  Something wrong with my neck - possibly just arthritis messing me about, but perhaps it's my pillow? - causing nasty sick headaches that make my eyes feel crossed.  Only solution is to take pills, grab an icepack, retire to bed and wait for it to pass.  I've spent the entire weekend in bed with a pillow over my eyes.

So for this reason I decided now was a good time to give up caffeine.  If I am going to have a headache anyway, it seems reasonable to get it all over and done with at once, ey?  I've been decaf since Saturday morning.  yay me

I used to give up stuff all the time.  Or perhaps periodically is a more appropriate word.  For months or more at a time, just to get back into control and prove I didn't need it, whatever the it was.  Softdrink.  Coffee.  Lollies.  Whatever.  (or possibly this is just a sign of commitment phobia)

Not alcohol though, because I didn't start drinking until my mid-twenties when I was ceasing to be able to deal with living with my mother with any vague vestige of grace.

I went through a brief period as a child where I was a bit obsessive compulsive.  Not that anybody else noticed.  All about balance.  If I walked one foot on pavement and the other on grass, I would have to do a little hop skip backwards so that I could walk the grass foot on the pavement and the pavement foot on the grass.   I think I was only 6 or 7 at the time.

I hated the feeling of being a slave to such a silly urge and got cranky with myself and stopped.  I've been a bit anal about the feeling of needing things since.

Which brings me round to advising that perfidious lentil lover Dan Kelly has posted another blog.

sigh - he gives good blog.

***SCREAMS IN HORROR***

oh god!  I did send a second comment that time and now it is up on the myspace blog - I'd hoped I'd just imagined them both - (I'd been surfing the net under the influence) - i take it all back - i don't want dan kelly as a brother-in-law anymore - I want to smack him up the back of the head instead - it was clearly a comment that needed deleting

aye currumba

*retreats muttering* and people are always saying how nice he is bah I say bah

Musing

Dear Madame Kettle,

As instructed I stopped in to have a gawk at Mr Kelly's feature in Frankie.  Isn't that an utterly spiffy shirt he is wearing?  I fell in-love with it when I was looking for reviews of their gig at the Toff on the 16th.  sigh - I want it bad.

Upon reading the little piece with it, I concluded that I'd adore to have him as a brother-in-law - if only I had more sisters!.

He would balance out my other roast cooking brother-in-law.  I'd have one that boils potatoes and then deep fries them instead of roasting them in the oven (cause they get a crispier skin that way) and makes gravy from scratch (he deep fried me some bacon once) and then one that cooks healthy organic ethically correct food that one wouldn't feel guilty about mooching because ... well I am not sure yet, but I expect one could come up with a supporting argument.

I shall rouse on my little brother the next time I see him for turning out the wrong gender. 

I've been trying to think, but I don't think I've ever eaten muesli?  I think I've eaten a muesli bar once.

Also, if he were my brother-in-law I would be within my rights to steal his shirts.  My Aunty Claire was always trying to steal my Uncle Sid's shirts.  (I have one, but I didn't steal it.  He gave it to me when he got a little to portly for it.  Sadly I am now becoming a little too portly for it too and should probably pass it on as it is a fab shirt, but I am a greedy little black duck and that is totally not going to happen.)

 

(Uncle Sid when he was skinny, Dad, Mum, Aunty Mary? maybe - I can only tell them apart when I have all five of them photographed together (younger photos of them that is - I can tell them apart at present) 

I've just been applying for jobs with a dash and devil-may-care attitude - all sorts of jobs - ones I am probably not exactly qualified for - I even emailed a firm of solicitors and I swore I'd never work in a legal firm ever again.  I think it was a reaction to the guilt I am feeling for sleeping in until nearly midday.  

Can't get "The Devil in Me" by "Augie March out of my head - not that I am displeased by this in anyway - it is a gorgeous song.

Burp - I'm full :)

My brother-in-law is a treasure.  I use their computer/internet and he makes me coffee and gives me food.  He even shook chocolate on top (of my coffee, not the food, though chocolate is nice in casseroles).

Have been to Centrelink. 
Have been to Job Network place. 
Am going home to my cats and a lie down now.

The job network lady asked me if I had interview clothes, so I guess she didn't approve of my outfit.  Must be a believer in collars, ey?

And talking of collars did everybody watch Dr Who on Sunday?  The gorgeous Mr Simms in a red dog collar?  *hoooooooOOOOOOOOwllll*
 

Startled

My eldest niece caught a little bit of Rockwiz Saturday Night (I made them watch it cause they were repeating the episode when Glenn Richards from Augie March was on and I like to torment them).  Today she instead of calling me a spaz or something of such ilk, she said 'that crowded hour song is alright". 

*insert gobsmacked face*

Usually my 13yr niece just makes fun of my enthusiasms.

and and and - that is not all

When I made her listen to a song today (Civil Civic's Less Unless which can be found here) instead of rolling her eyes at me SHE ACTUALLY SAID SHE LIKED IT.

(13 yr niece has read post over my shoulder and says I have to write that she rolled her eyes at me)

(( and then she muttered something about me liking retarded music ))

Just Passing Through

At my sisters house using her internet (applying for jobs online).  My brother-in-law has fed me and offered me liquid refreshments.  Mutton sandwich with gravy (mmmm salty meaty goodness).  I have not taken him up on the offered beer. 

He has also invited me to dinner tonight.  He is cooking a roast.  I will be hitting them up for a loan as soon as my sister gets home.

Oh how we are brought low by our own hand.  All the shouldhaves and oughts are crowding my brain and tutting at me.

I think I will have that beer after all :)

Oopsy

Argh!  I've run out of pre-paid internet.
I may die.
Am at shopping centre net kiosk.
Normal blogging will recommence as soon as possible.

Lacking in ambition

Juvenlile(sp?) I know, but I can't wait to be in the audience to listen to young DK explain the ‘Bindi Irwin Undersea Apocalypse Jam’, as his wont. Even when a small cloud of us were following the augie march tour he was playing support to, he tried to vary his explanatory delivery.  I wonder how you can deliver seven variances of her mum was chaparoneing (sp?).

I know this would be a much better post if I checked the spelling, but I can't be arsed.

w00t! - an update!!

My day has been brightened :)

Here was I, slumped in my lounge gazing with a troubled soul at the junk I am supposed to be sorting out and getting rid of ... but how can I?  There is the hideously cutesy little white kitten ceramic with a pale pink hat with flowers on it with a hole in it so one could use it to hold actual flowers or pencils or whatnot, that mother foisted on me.  I have a weakness for the ugly and improbable.  Why would somebody think this was a good idea?  Who would choose have this in their house?  I haven't the faintest idea why my mother would buy such a thing.  Perhaps it was a bargin?  Perhaps, and more likely, it was a gift?

The funky frog headed ball - use unknown - I gave to mother and she foisted back on me when downsizing for her first unit.

Excessive numbers of lipsticks.  I don't wear makeup most of the time.  A handful of times a year.  But they are such pretty colours.

... and rocks and paperweights and vases and objects and a wrestling doll that when you squeeze his legs together his arms move together in a crushing motion wot was given to me by my little brother and STUFF.  So very very much stuff.  sigh

I have my grandfather on my father's side's glasses (eye glasses) and my grandmother's on my mother's side, as keep sakes.  Is that stoopidly sentamental or what?

Oh well ... back to staring helplessly at the accumulated useless stuff of my life, ey?

Edit:  Also this man is fabulous - but I have nobody to make out with? - I shall go drink directly from the cold water jug instead of using a cup as substitute

Fed up and sulky

I am sick of showering!
Neither hair nor tooth brush will touch me today.
I refuse to change out of the clothes I slept in.
I feel entirely anti-social.
This may be partly due to the fact that I have nothing to talk about anyway.

Dear Projectivist, you are a popular search on my blog.  I thought I should let you know there is much interest in your bloggy fate.

If only my hair would dread.  I could then look properly unkempt.

Edit:  I didn't make it to bed without a shower, but did last till after Spicks & Specks.

I expect I shall do something today at some point

I love that my cats curl up near me to sleep.  If I move they follow.  Not in a fawning showy way.  They may not move straight away.  When they do it is casual and matter of fact.  Blossom-cat gets up in the middle of the night if I do.  He walks close to my leg like a guide dog as I pick my way through the mess in the dark.  Wanders about in the bathroom while I am busy or paces at my feet for pats, all sleepy eyed and warm.

I am sitting in my lounge chair not watching dreary daytime television.  Blossom is curled up in an old shoe box far too small for him at my feet.  Sookie next to him on a plastic bag containing yarn.  Woollif in a basket I intended to only temporarily fill with junk that needs to be sorted and somehow got rid of.  It can't be comfortable.

I hate Mondays

Fuck!

I'm running out of little mircowave/freezer safe plastic containers.  I remember handling frogs when I was young.  I like frogs.  However, apparently as part of the ageing process one becomes more neurotic about lizards, bugs, spiders and amphibians and I can't for the life of me bring myself to actually touch one of the little buggers.

It doesn't help that I saw a program on television that said the oils in our skin are like acid for the poor little things and that we should rince our hands in rain water before handling them.

This is the second night in a row I've had to sacriface one of my food freezing containers for the rescue and safe disposal of a green frog cornered and plagued by my cats in my toilet.

Bugger Clarice and her lambs - there is nothing quite like the screams of a frog to get one moving from out of a comfy chair.

Sigh

Here I thought maybe, maybe, if I crossed my fingers and didn't look ALL DAY, some kind of magic might  happen and Dan Kelly maybe, might just perhaps, possibly update his blog.

Did he? I hear you ask.

nah

Actually, I spent the day with my sister and latest niece.  Well ... when I say 'the day', what I mean is 'the rest of the day' after I got up, which I fully meant to do at a reasonable time, and in fact did, but then went back to bed and slept till after 11.

It was so hot last night and there were mosquitoes and they make a really really annoying noise and I forgot to put the Rid (insect repellent) on before retiring and the cats kept making noise and knocking stuff over and I gave up and at 3:30 am'ish and moved my bed directly under the ceiling fan and smothered myself in poison, so it's not as if I am just sleeping my life away or anything and probably, really, I am entirely justified in sleeping till midday or perhaps even later?  Possibly I shouldn't get out of bed till 3 pm.  Why strain myself, ey?

I think I should make the effort tomorrow though and go sign up with Centrelink since I think I only have $70 or $80 left to my name.  I always leave it very late.  I hate being on unemployment.

My 11yr niece and nephew approve of "It Ain't Half Hot Mum".  They said it is nearly as good as "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure".

Edit:  one can't help but think that his " ... and i think that has more to do with my general demeanour at the moment, which resembles that of a spooked horse (with the head of a monkey)" is a plea to be photoshopped. Attention whore. 

Sunday Evening

They had a feret muzzle on Collectors and Basil Brush is on Talking about your Generation.   I know we are only into the second month but surely this means this is:
the golden year of television!!!!

Thank AAPB the day is gone

Hot. 
Humid. 
Too hot to do anything but lie spreadeagle in underwear under ceiling fan, intermittently wiping poolled sweat away with an old t-shirt dumped on end of bed.   Multiple cold showers.  Can't read.  Too hot.  Play music and close eyes against too bright light.  Wait for darkness.  Fill empty bottles with water and stuff in freezer to chill quicker.  Cold drink fleeting relief.  Slosh when walk.  Wish were just bones and glandless.  Skin of face burning from repeated swipe of sweat with hand.  Friction burns.  Contemplate joys of menopause instore - hot flush must be very similar to this.  Resolve to mistreat prescribed medicines when time comes.

So close and yet so not going to happen - sigh

Talk of teachers on Kettle's blog reminded me of Christmas get togethers, as there are a few teachers in my family - uncles and aunts - I'd vaguely thought I would be a teacher - because it was in the family - teacher or a nurse and I didn't want to be a nurse :)

Absently musing - the grey cells sparked and threw up the memory of the son of a cousin - 9 ish - behavourial problems, but nice - too rough - playfully headbutted me in the nose and accidentally would hurt his siblings and others - was keeping an eye on them to stop any troubles breaking out so that Cousin could have a nice day - I can never think of much to say at parties, even if they are family get togethers - at least with the kids one gets to play games - I am good with kids and little boys always seem to get crushes on me, but this was the first time I'd ever had a nine year old ask me to be his girlfriend :) (I think I was about 35ish at the time with a buzz cut that I'd dyed blonde)

So ... if I get a months temp work in March at the place I was at last year whilst the receptionist is having an eye operation, it would be very unwise and impulsive to buy plane flights to go see young Dan Kelly and Paul  Dempsey playing in Brisbane in April.  Though it would get the visit to the Parent out of the way and stop the nagging?  Though it would mean I'd have to try and get a taxi from town to Redlands in the small hours of the morning and mother would probably wait up for me crying and I'd get the lecture about people drugging, kidnapping and raping me (even though, it must honestly be said I've been quite happily letting myself go these last few years and am looking far from my best and I don't really think people would be lining up to drug the drink of a fat nearly forty woman with crooked teeth, warts and scabby dermatitis hands).

Besides, if it happens I won't get paid until mid-March and by then the flights will be too expensive, so really, it is entirely impractical and the electricity bill will be coming in around then and I'll need to pay rent which will probably go up since my lease is due for renewal April, so I don't know why I even thought about it.

*wistful sigh*

... and Mr Noga is playing drums for Mr Dempsey and is rather attractive (as is Mr Dempsey).  Mr Dempsey walked within a foot of me at the Enmore when I went to see Wilco (actually I went to see Glenn Richards who was playing support, but anyway) and the girl next to me looked like she was either going to faint or leap the barrier.  She stopped breathing all together and her body turned with her eyes like a sunflower following the sun.

But, gosh.  So many attractive young men occupying the one stage - it's an orgasm in waiting.

Edit 7:08 pm: and of course  it goes without saying unspeakably talented and sing good and stuff

AL - After Lotto

$22 = blew on breakfast out :)

Fingers crossed I win the lotto - i promise to hold a really cool party if i do

In a strange blank kind of mood today.
Perhaps is just lack of sleep?

Was cooking with slow cooker overnight and I always worry it will set fire to the house when I am asleep and burn my poor defenseless pets to ashes, so I kept waking to check the kitchen wasn't on fire.

I never worry about the fridge being on constantly or the television or the radio but all other electrical equipment - mother used to always tell us to turn the electric blanket off before we went to sleep, in case it caught fire in the night.

Speaking of 'The Parent' - the phone calls are starting again:  she starts immediately with "Have you got a job yet?" and "Everythings alright with Centrelink?" and "Have you heard from the agency?", "do you need money" and "I suppose there isn't a lot about at the moment" and "You should come visit me since you are not doing anything.  Flights are cheap at the moment".

I broke in this time with 'now you are not going to start doing that thing again where you ask if I have a job yet every time you phone like last time, are you?  You know I would tell you if I was.  I'll get all depressed and cry after you phone.'  (cause that is what happened last time - I was flinching every time the phone rang), but I said it in a jolly teasing kind of voice so that she couldn't get upset and cry at me.


Mother's response was:  Stop talking rubbish. 

I was not expecting any other response. Consideration of my request is perhaps some kind of admittance of fault or something?  The way this plays out is, she will now do it more than she was before.  Perhaps escalate to grilling in more detail about what I am doing and my finances.  She is already trying to grill my sisters about what jobs I am applying for.

All one can do is cross ones fingers and hope some other child of the family has a crisis to divert her attention.

Maybe my older brother will get some inappropriate female pregnant or something?  He never has before, but like, there is always a first time, right?

To hot to do anything

The young man at Cash Converters heartily approved of my DVD collection, however this did not mean they were going to pay me more than $1.50 per DVD - sigh.

The second hand book shop dude resisted giving me any money, though offerred to give me credit at the shop, which is no good to me cause I mostly don't find books I want to read in secondhand book shops. 

He remembered who I was after my third trip between car and shop and told me that last time one of the books I gave him went for $300.

He has taken my phone number this time, so that he can call me to see if I want the book back or commission.  He did not offer to give me any of the $300 - sigh.

Busy Buzzing Bee

It is nearly 8 am and I am at my sisters.
She has just brought coffee to me at her computer.

I am borrowing their car today.

I believe I mentioned I'd been sorting through books with the intent to be ruthless as a beginning to a more ruthless approach to the cleaning out of my flat.  It kind of stalled after I'd sorted through all the books because I had no way of then removing them from my home before I changed my mind again, thus the borrowing of the car.

I don't suppose JCat is still reading?  I am not sure if I am remembering her name right?  I shall have a look back over my posts to see if I can find her.  She asked once if she could have the Anne McCaffery books I'd mentioned maybe attempting to sell on Ebay.  I would much rather give them away to somebody who would like them.  The big A3 sized one is called "A Diversity of Dragons".  Another is called Dragonholder, which is I think a book written by her son about her and another small A5 hardback called "If wishes were Horses".

At the time I couldn't find where I'd put them and thought perhaps I'd already given them to the secondhand book store, but I found them at the bottom of the glory chest which I thought contained old paperwork - but which in actuality contained bags of books I hadn't gotten to take to the secondhand book store for some reason or an other - perhaps they didn't fit in the car - certainly I gave an awful lot of books away last time.

If I ever manage to whittle away at my nicknacks I will then be left with the last and hardest task of all - the burning of all the little scraps of paper I still possess of my attempts to write stories from when I was small.

It's Tuesday, right? Cause that means I babysit tonight.

Yet another outstanding post by Black Hockey Jesus.
Read and enjoy.

I don't own a kitchen table.
Or a dining room table, in fact.
It is very sad.

I shall add them to my wishlist for if I win the twelve million in Powerball Thursday, ey?
I shall write on my arm to remember to enter this time.

Pictures

Wow!  How awesome are these :)

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I am a food source to many and striving to cut down the numbers, have nearly bathed in 'Rid'.   I wish I still owned that insect net.  A mid-sized green grasshopper minus one large leg on the left hand size is somewhere, trying to stay up high in hopes of keeping its remaining limbs.  The cats are excited.  I have unintentionally enriched their environment when letting Michael-Cat inside for his dryfood snack.

It reminds me of when I was little at Grandma's house.  We would have the light in the dinning room on and darkness in the lounge to try and lure some of the bugs away.  Little black stink bugs crawling all over the television screen.  Constantly worried that I was going to get another one in my ear. Remembering not to slap them when they ran into me, cause that was a nasty smell.

Bugs in your ear aren't very nice either. 
Particularly if they are stinky.

w00t!

Guiltily I confess.  I am a bit consoled ... because Dan Kelly finally got round to posting another update of his album blog *insert kermit the frog yea and flapping arms* (or small children if preferred).

This does not however alleviate my shame of having BEGGED FOR IT LIKE A LOSER.  Not that I actually think my pathetic pleading on myspace was cause to this effect (or is it affect?  I never remember).  Actually.  Indeed I don't think there can ever be too many 'actually's in a sentence.  Actually I am very fond of the word.

I know I may have said, or perhaps just thought about saying, that I was going to be industrious today, but actually, actually, at the moment I am going to go back to bed and read another Terry Pratchett book.

Perhaps this afternoon?

It is a gobsmackingly beautiful day here today.  The feral pigeons in the deserted house next door seem much happier.  As am I.  Even the freezing of my computer for ten to fifteen minutes every five minutes is failing to make me cross.