Last Day

reluctant to get out of bed this morning

but the cats fixed that

by running around like rum fuelled hoons

crashing and banging about the place

and getting into fights

drag racing eachother down the length of the living room

so I arrived at work early

tomorrow I intend to sleep in until at least ten

or if i can't sleep I shall read

either way

in bed till ten

one can get depressed when one is unemployed

i feel it behoves me to set myself some achieveable goals

to keep my spirits up

lol

P.S.  Civil Civic have released another couple of songs and I have it on good authority that Overdrive is great - I am hoping to find a computer with sound (or get mine working) tomorrow to get a listen to it myself :)

P.P.S.  Exploding Dog is just so awesome

Ugliest Bed EVA

lol - love the feet

Awesome!

Belatedly curious

Am re-reading Georgette Heyer books at the moment and realised I didn't actually know what a gig looks like, or a curricle or a phaeton, so spent some of yesterday looking at pictures.

Darned if I know how a lady would have gotten in and out of a high perch phaeton in those clothes.

And I perfectly understand why he would refuse a visit from his nephew to his deathbed if the nephew was wearing a sugarloaf hat.

Patting pockets absentmindedly

Triple J Dan Kelly Interview - popping this here to listen to later when I can access a computer that has sound.

(nice my arse - lets my drunken comments through on myspace - never answers my questions on his blog - lost weight whilst I gained - obviously devil incarnate)

And I'm getting a cold too *pout*

I am crap at commenting at the best of times.

Now is not the best of times.

I have comment block. 

It's quite frustrating.

Even though there are only a scant handful of blogs I actually comment on.

I blame it on not being able to listen to music on my headphones all day.  I was overflowing with chat when I had my headphones in my last job and since then *makes brrut noise with lips* nothing, nada, negator-ay.

What if people think I hate them because I am not commenting?

Or think that they bore me?

What if people are relieved I am not commenting?

Change of Seasons

I always forget the advent of winter turns cats into acrobats.  Woken repeatedly in the early hours by hyper actived dashes and crashes, bangs and thumps as aerial manoeuvres are launched from walls and the tops of cupboards and the clunk as such disturbed and disturbing whacks dislodge junk.

God only knows what my neighbour thinks is happening.

Waffling

Work having their biggest morning tea today, so I have to IOU until tomorrow when I get paid.

Everybody I have spoken to so far today has mentioned how sleepy they feel and that they nearly didn't get out of bed this morning.  Spooky when it seems so universal.  Reminds me of the day of the Triffods.  Not that I ever read the book.  Only saw the tv show.  One imagines some kind of giant gas leak and everybody is slowly asphyxiating.  Perhaps it is the first salvo of alien invasion?

Maybe Ming has arrived?

Darn it!  Couldn't you have waited another year?  I've not the figure for those outfits like wot Aurora and Dale wear.

Another note from a small office

I'm bored.

Notes from a small office

Five days to go and I am snufflenosed and sneezy. 

Tell her shes dreamin'

If I ever win lotto, this is the kind of view I want from my wrap-around verandah

Wilt thy fly away with me, my love?
Shall we go to sea?
Bask in the sun and salt breeze?

What will you, my love?
A cosy cave? A mountain retreat?
A penthouse- all glass, slick lines and concrete?

Or shall we just draw curtains and unplug the phone?
With a note on the door to leave us alone?

It might be cheaper.

Maybe I should set up a shrine to him?

Exploding Dog is the most brilliant man in the world! 

This would be so great.

*sigh*

I've been drooling over his prints again.

One day I will get myself together and buy myself some.

Friday Night

My timing estimates were not too far off.  Arrived at hotel by 7:40 pm.  Troubadour was not yet open when I wandered down and I adjourned beneath for chicken and mushroom rissotto.

Upstairs and a Gin and Tonic then drifted to my chair in the dark corner.  Re-reading a Georgette Heyer.  The pages have yellowed with age.  Makes it a lot harder to read in dim light.  Admonished by a handsome canadian for reading in bad light.  My mouth got away from me.  Said my eyes were already fucked.  He said something along the lines of he can see I am wearing glasses, but still - he cared, you know.  Replied it showed how kind and big hearted he was and that his mother would be proud of him. 

He smelled nice.  What is with this smelling of men?  I must be being very dilligent with the litter trays for my nose to have started working again.  Am not used to it.  Disconcerting. 

Blonde in attention-grabbing red dress sat in the empty chair betwixt canadian and myself (after asking my permission).  If her hair had been red she would have been a good crack at resembling Jessica Rabbit - except with a sweet innocent air.  Soft red knit wrap dress with high red shoes.  Like an adult version of a special K ad.  It made her look very jiggily and fleshily lush.  She made friends with handsome canadian   I think she missed having a posse of girlfriends to giggle with men over, as she kept looking to me and smiling.  I remarked it seemed to be going well with the canadian and she said he was a dickhead and that she was after the whole package.  Smart, handsome, rich.  This did not stop the canoodling.  I was of course envious of her dress and shoes to the tips of my toes and if I could wear them I would.  She also seemed terribly nice which was galling *sigh* 

I enjoyed Little Scout (first support) more when I closed my eyes.  I think they are a headphone only band for me.  I don't know why it should make a difference, but some music I enjoy on headphones and not out loud.  Eagle and the Worm (second support) were freakin' great! 

DK and his dream band brought out a couple of inflatable sharks to decorate the stage with - lol.  Kiernan in turban.  Dave in what looked like a ship's cap.  I was some distance away and couldn't see well.  It wasn't as full as for Mr Liddiard - maybe three quarters? - but they didn't have to ask anybody to stand up.  Young man towards the front of the crowd was flinging his hair about vigorously to the music.  Hopefully he has not strained anything.  Mr Box did something glorious with his harmonica in the first song.  Thoroughly sigh worthy.  There were two songs I'd not heard before, both lovely.  When is the damn album going to be available, ey?  I hate waiting. 

Had an excellent night and didn't miss my plane back.  I am very glad I went.

Rockwiz Tour

Did I mention?  I saw the Rockwiz tour when they passed through Townsville.  Had a most excellent night.

The ever so delightful Mr Nankervis sat down next to me before the show and tried to chat about books, but he smelt so nice my tongue failed to function.  I did not bring honor on my family with my charm and wit.  I mostly ended up looking at his socks. 

They were red.
As too probably was my face.
I could feel the nerves connected to my nose shorting out my brain.  It was the oddest feeling. 

I have a bit of a crush on Mr Nankervis.

I console myself with the thought that at least I didn't spit on him, like I did poor Janet Evanovich at that book signing when I tried to talk but instead stuttered and choked and spit fired out and struck her face.

In response to his kind perseverance in the face of my near muteness (regarding the book I was reading) with could it be read stand-alone or if it was the second or third in a series, I responded, "why, are you going to steal it".

His shoes were very shiny.

Friday Afternoon Adventures

• Taxi from work to airport 4:30 pm
• Plane leaves 5:20 pm
• Arrive 7:00 pm catch train
• Train arrive 7:30 pm (ish, i hope) walk to hotel
• Dump stuff at hotel and walk to venue 8ish?
• Venue doors open 8 pm
• Forgot to charge mobile and battery is about to die
• Flight leaves 8: 30 ish next morning
• Need to be at airport an hour before plane leaves
• Will have no alarm clock since was planning to use alarm on phone
• Can only remember one phone number off by heart if I miss plane and need to call for help
• Have no spare money if anything goes wrong
• Have changed my mind about what I am wearing but don't have time to change
• Forgot to bring coat
• Currently 19 degrees in Brisbane and falling
• Have headache

Aside

bear with me with the bad paintbrush cartoons
it's just a phase i am going through
i am sure i'll get over it soon :)

Assessment

Lunchtime coffee is not as nice as breakfast coffee

lost for words

sorry
not awake
no coffee cause was running late

running late
cause I got up early
started reading book and suddenly it was eight

(which is fifteen minutes later than I normally leave the house)
(actually sometimes I leave at 7:30 if I'm bored)

(I've decided not to tell the story that inspired this one)

I know it's a little mad that this has come as such a shock to me, but I just haven't been paying attention and I don't have any mirrors in the house (except for now I have sandra's funky-as little mirrors, but they are more little face mirrors anyway, ey?)

(Actually, I've seen my stepfather do this)

It feels like a Saturday

Flights to Brisbane next Friday are steadily creeping further and further out of my reach.  Beyond even an 'aw fuck it' reckless impulse purchase.
*sigh*
I do really want to go.
However, I need not to go.
But I've always been contrary.
I shall decide tomorrow when I have credit on my card.

My other impulsive purchases from last fortnight have been delightful.  I finally got around to ordering "Your Mother would be Proud" a book of stories edited by Tamara Sheward & Jenny Valentish which arrived yesterday.  I tried to order it when I first heard about it last year (ish? maybe the year before?I am not good with time), but entered an 8 instead of a 0 when typing in my credit card details and then forgot or had spent all my money on something else.  Probably kitty litter.  Or flights to see Augie March.

And the cool mirrors and stuff from Sandra.  First thing everybody says when looking at the shirt is "Is that bear doing what I think it is doing?"

I still haven't put my mirrors up yet.  I am hopeless.  I go out intending to buy hooks or nails and then get distracted.  I shall write it on my arm and have another go today.

I am unconsolable and mopey because there is no chance I will get to Melbourne for Glenn Richards support gig in July.  Well, unless I win lotto or something.  I tell myself I shouldn't go even if I could.  I should wait until he has his album out and perhaps will do some solo shows, but shoulds mean nothing to me, nothing.  Shoulds can go roger themselves with a cheese grater. 

Also I have put on another two kilograms and to my startled horror am not far off ninety in total. 

Oh, I forgot ...

I meant to search and link to this first thing this morning, but of course, my day went to heck before it begain and it rather slipped my mind.

It was one of my sisters' birthday yesterday and I picked her up this marvellous bottle of booze on the way to her place.  It came with this little booklet which was worth the price of the bottle alone.  Well, at least, we think so anyway. 

So luckily they have it up on their website and you can go read it here.  It's just gorgeous :)

Edit:  actually the little book one gets with the bottle is longer and there is an offer that you can use their club if you are ever in france or whatever and require stationary to write a letter with, or something to that effect.

Wishful Thinking

Sadly nobody has saved me from my own brain, though there were momentary diversions (and Otto is always particularly diverting). So I am stuck with myself and its something I try hard to avoid. Usually there is a book or a television or a very large drink to chaperone and intercede when things get tense.

*sigh*

If only we had an office cat.

Edit:  although, of course, Paul's poem is also particularly lovely - it goes without saying as I am sure we all appreciate the presence of his genius in our midst

lol

This has improved my day :D

and also this

Shemozzle

I can't help but think there should be a 'c' in there somewhere, but the online dictionary disagrees and who am I to argue with a dictionary? 

My morning routine derailed before I even got started and I just feel like rampaging with an uzi.  Not that I would.  Gore makes me feel ill.  Rampaging with an uzi in a computer game instead, ey?  (does anybody else keep accidentially ending up on that series of dissections they are showing on television Monday nights?  They cut out somebodies brain, back of skull and spine to show the oesophagus last night.  I can sort of cope with the corpses, but for some reason I find the guy doing the cutting's hat disconcerting)

I wonder if any of my bloggers have writ something beautiful to reconcile me to my day?

When I was exciled to a desk and databases I missed human interaction, but I realize now that was just the usual wistful greener fields thinking because I know I am not a social person and generally prefer the company of cats and frankly, people just shit me.

Sleepy

Was beginning to feel cranky, as we are a department absent and taking gazillions of phone messages and interruptions grate on my nerves.  Only little grates.  Micro grates.  Like for nutmeg, ey?  But I am saved by someone writing something quite sigh-worthy read during a brief calm and I feel better again, though wish I could grab the words and snuggle them close like a blanket under my desk and snooze like wot I do with my cats on chill weekend afternoons.

I think I might make a run to the cafe for hot chocolate later.
It's only a top of 27 degrees (81 fahrenheit) today and I am a little cold.

In progress ...

I have a line from a Decemberist's song running through my head on endless repeat "and I will hang my head, hang my head low" and it's a great song, but I would prefer more of it.

Had the booklet out to sing the darn thing of an evening - trying to remember the words by repetition -but it is not sticking.  Went to play the CD, but then remembered I can't sing along with Colin and saved myself the pain of sounding like a strangled chicken.  That is always so disheartening.

http://syn.org.au/program/hoist/episode/audio/2010/05/10/dan-kelly/908
Just popping this here temporarily, to remind myself to check back.  There was something mentioned about an interview upload on the way.

I've realised that it's not so much that I am obsessed with these musicians, I just like finding stuff on the net.  It's a hobby.  I am willing to acknowledge that it is a weird hobby.

Edit:  That damn $69 fare is still there, curses *shakes fist at screen*
(of course the flight to Brisbane is now up to $210 from its previous $199)

Bored now

Good thing it is almost time to go home then, ey?

Edit 4:39 pm:  did you know that if you enter "bored now" into google search you get lots of pages about Buffy? 

I should write a letter of complaint

My lack of ability to have dirty dreams cropped up Sunday morning, though this time it didn't end with me crying in a toilet cubicle. 

In this dream I'd gone to Brisbane for the gig at the Troubadour and I'd booked that 6am return flight that has been disturbing my peace of mind with it's bargain-ness.

As per dream rules I do not get to see the face of the man and I am thankful it is never anybody real - I would find that awkward as heck.  In the dream I know the person, but have never previously met them.  It was implied he was somebody I had talked to over the internet but not specified.

He makes his move and I am tempted, but decline his offer on the grounds that I don't want to have one-night stands anymore (in the dream he doesn't even live in Brisbane and there is no explanation as to why he is there so there and I am of course still living in North Queensland, so there is no chance it being anything more than one-off event) and I had a 6am flight to catch and I really wanted to get at least a couple of hours sleep.

So then the dream gets wildly improbably and the man says he wants to spend time with me and get to know me anyway and we go back to my hotel room and one presumes there must have been some chatting, but the dream skips that and we curl up and go to sleep.  All pleasant so far.

So then we get the closest to a dirty dream I have managed so far in my nearly forty years.  There is some sleepy interaction which leads further and we even get as far as that first slow penetration and then the alarm I've set in the dream goes off and I have to stop, pack and run for the train to the airport.

Last night

How good was Dr Who last night?!  I wish my nephew had been there so I could have seen him run crying from the room in terror.  Dr Who should elicit nightmares from small children.  It is right and proper.

zooming around like an airplane

The package was waiting for me when I got home Friday and I was so excited I didn't think to take a photo before opening it, but anyway here is an awesome t-shirt Sandra has given me extra along with my purchases (note the territorial pronoun) in their funky map wrapping paper.

Here are my purchases unwrapped.  Do you have any idea the effect it has on a hoarder/collector type person to own print one in a series of only ten?  by jove, I believe I may have chortled.

Blossom-cat was also very pleased with the package and guarded the box from all envious latecomers.

And here is me in the excellent t-shirt, which I am wearing right this very moment on my way to Saturday breakfast, which I have not been able to indulge in for ages.

After which I am in search of some picture hooks to hang my mirrors :)

Get thee behind me Satan

Forgot the rubber band again today.
Maybe I should put it round my neck instead?
Might work better?

That $69 6 am flight from Brisbane to Townsville Saturday morning is taunting me with its bargin-ness.

Though getting out to the airport by 5 am with a hangover after a night out (and probably only three hours intermittent napping so as not to sleep in) is cruel and unusual self-punishment. 

*newscooternewscooternewscooternewscooter*

'sup?

Feeling vaguely ill purely out of tiredness and craving that blueberry flavoured gum I bought a couple of days ago and left at home, which actually just tastes like grape flavour - not that grape flavoured actually bares any resemblance to actual grapes and I have no idea why they picked that fruit to call it such, unless as a consequence the flavouring turns things purple and they just thought, fuckit, lets call it grape cause it's purple, I do wonder how they came up with that one.

*yawn*

Does anybody want to tell me I have a slumberous beauty like the waning moon?  I could go an extravagant compliment at the moment.

Is it obvious ...

... that I don't feel like working today?

Makes me sad

Have I mentioned I still havn't won lotto yet?
It is an enduring disappointment.

thank the lord

Somebody has brought me coffee

Somebody sabotage the phone lines

Argh!  It's past nine and I haven't even started opening the mail yet.

I am looking forward to a lazy weekend on my stack of alleged ottomans wot are actually just slightly padded boxes.

*quivering bottom lip* I haven't even had coffee yet

Waffling

I am ambivalent about being busy today.

It does make the day go faster, true, but it does rather cut into my waffle time on the blog, not to mention my stalking time on the internet.

What have I missed with my favourite blogger (admittedly there are a few of y'all that qualify in the favourite blogger category, but just go with me here) who posts and then retracks. 

I know I swore to stop reinterpreting things other people post into a magic fantasy land of my own making but I just can't help it.  I had him winging his way to a distant love with what I've caught so far today and then next post possibly being told not to rush things and then the next post possibly all depressed and now they are all gone - throbbing romantical-type sigh.  

I've confessed I used to read A LOT of Mills & Boon growing up, haven't I?  One thinks one has out grown such things, but then one realises one has just substituted something else for it.

There is another blog I follow and don't comment on.  A girl whose photo blog I used to check out now and then.  Then these portraits of a young man started appearing and then they become a couple and then they got themselves a blog and then they moved in together and then they got a cat and now they are getting married - and it's all just beautiful.

Blogs = never ending romance novels.

I have no self control

Lady at work saw me peeking at the flights to Brisbane again and asked me where my rubber band was. 

I confessed that I left it at home, so she flicked my ear until I closed the page down.

Nonplus

Two compliments on my appearance so far this morning, when I thought I was a walking rag-bag - having failed to get clothes ready the night before and making do with what I could dig out of the basket of clothes the cat has been sleeping in.

C-ch-changes

I've noticed the last few times I've been babysitting that my 12yr niece has taken to closing and locking all the screens and doors.  It used to drive me nuts when they wouldn't close the screen doors and let all the mossis and flys in.  So the change is quite noticable.

Apparently its because of zombies.

Bless. 

For me it was Werewolves after American Werewolf in London.  My elder brother took us out of the theatre before the main character had even changed, cause I was huddling in the foetal position in the chair with my hands over my ears.

I have never told anybody this before, but ...

I would really like to find somebody who doesn't mind the smell of kitty litter and who doesn't care about the mess, who will take the time to seduce and bribe my cats into loving them.  I want my cats to socialise.

In many ways it's great that they scatter and hide if they hear a car, but I still would really like it if one day a family member could come to my flat (after I'd cleaned it enough for visitors which is maybe about twice a year) and actually at least be able to sight one of my pets.

Ever since I read that book about the mad cat guy in england and his partner and their seven cats and particularly after seeing that site of cute guys with cats - I've started having fantasies of a cute guy patting my cats.

This is not a relationship fantasy. 
This is not a sex fantasy. 
It's just a cute boy seducing my cats.

Maybe it is a sex fantasy?
Maybe its an unconscious euphemism?

I think not, but one can never discount these things.
I have a twisted mind.

Lunch

I've discovered I don't really like rye bread.
Though perhaps it is just this rye bread?
Perhaps it is old or in some way defective?
Whatever.

What I am saying is the rye bread I am currently eating a sandwich made with is too thick and dense.

Perhaps I might like it if it were sliced thinner?  I can't really state a definitive yea or nay.  It's just a suggestion that might improve things, but possibly only because there would be less of it.

I never realised I could dislike a bread before.
It seems such an inoffensive substance.

Reminder

ought –auxiliary verb
1. used to express duty or moral obligation
2. used to express justice, moral rightness, or the like
3. used to express propriety, appropriateness, etc.
4. used to express probability or natural consequence
–noun
5. duty or obligation.

Perhaps I should be doing that thing where you wear a rubberband on your wrist and everytime you think of something you shouldn't you give yourself a flick.

Fingers crossed it doesn't rain

Woken at 6:42 by Blossom-cat projectile vomiting off (and a bit on) the end of my bed.

Sheets being put in the wash first thing in the morning, ah ... how it takes me back.

Though it was somebody else having to put the sheets in the wash back then.

OMG! I'm a growed up!

I know I am a grown up now, because my 12yr niece was embarrassed by my dancing (it's that darn masterchef song - I just can't resist it - it's so catchy).  She said I should be ashamed and my cats should be ashamed and my cat's cats should be ashamed.

It's wrong, I know, but ...

Is anybody else suddenly struggling with the urge to take up smoking since they started talking about it on television recently?

I get the urge now and then anyway - I blame it on growing up as a passive smoker to my parents and extended family - Benson & Hedges Gold.  The smell always makes me feel a bit calmer and nostalgic.  It's not even so much the smoking that I crave.  It's having the cigeratte to fiddle with.  Something to shift focus away from myself.

I think I would practice movements and the flicking of ash in the mirror (actually I do remember doing that as a kid - my mother had a great flick I was trying to copy).  Try and learn tricks.  Spin the cigeratte across the knuckles of my hand.  Throwing one up to catch with my lips like Sid Snot aka Kenny Everett. 

I miss the blue haze clouding public spaces when I go out.  It used to make me feel safer, less conspicious, being able to hide in the fog.

D'oh

The ladies at work agreed that I shouldn't go, which only makes me want to go more.

Morning

Forgot to turn my mobile phone back on after recharging the sucker and was woken by the back up alarm which is steadily losing time, dressed and sprinted for the door before I fully woke-up.  Don't remember the ride to work very clearly. 

Was feeling terribly pleased with myself until I saw another bloggers new sofa.  It's a very comfy looking sofa. *sigh*

I begged transport from my sister to the discount store Saturday and bought eight little folder out, very slightly padded, alleged ottomans (stiffened canvas cubes) - which are only just strong enough to support my weight if I approach them carefully - and arranged them into a large block in substitute of sofa in my lounge.  Spent most of Sunday stretched out on them with pillows and a book.  Soon I shall buy a ship load of cushions and it will be an opulent version of a rats nest.

The cats like it, which is the more important thing and I can break it up into individual blocks to make little pathways for them.  They like being aerial.  A cat that can get across a room without touching the floor is a happy cat.

Christ, I can't believe it is May already.  I had hopes that if I were restrained and with the added overtime payments, I might be able to save up and buy a new scooter, since Angelina (the scooter's name is Angelina cause it's a Bowell Jollee) is nearly had it.

... but then I skimmed past the cost of flights to Brisbane for 21 May and there are still relatively cheap flights available and I could just die, cause 'want' has so much more power over me than sensible 'ought' and I 'want' to go to the Troubadour though I 'ought' to save up before the end of my contract.

*sigh*

There is even one that leaves after work and arrives 7ish and I could probably get a taxi from the airport to the hotel and walk to the Troubadour in that time.  I might even still be on time?  Which is early.  Other people usually don't arrive as the door opens.  I could even still get my little chair in the corner that I like.

I think I should go smack my head against a wall for a bit and try and knock some sense into myself.  Ciao