tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9600038630807982532012-01-26T14:18:43.790+11:00This is collection of musings on life that occur to me mostly at work - I have to do something to keep me looking busy, after all.Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.comBlogger1511100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-16912525100503542162009-06-04T16:48:00.001+10:002009-06-04T16:53:30.518+10:00

On Monday night The Man and I went to the opera house to see Rachid Taha in concert. I only found out about this concert on Friday night, because we sent to see another band, and they announced that they were playing on Monday night in support of Rachid Taha, and I was all “Oh my God, Rachid Taha has come to Sydney? I’ll die of disappointment if he performs and I’m not there!!” So to avert my

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-66408477569922055582009-05-27T13:08:00.002+10:002009-05-27T13:12:08.903+10:00

I think it’s fair to say that I have not been terribly successful so far at soap making.I took a soap making class some time before Christmas. It may have been as early as October. (I could check my Outlook calendar for you but that would be just way too much effort, so let’s say October). I had Big Plans to make my first batches of scented soap in time for Christmas, because of course there’s

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-13304241422034889402009-05-15T15:50:00.000+10:002009-05-15T15:50:37.038+10:00

I would like to take a moment to give Nurofen a free promotion. Thank you, Nurofen, for being with me at 2:00 am this morning when I woke up in agony from my inflamed gum. You gently soothed the throbbing in my ear, blunted the razors down my throat, and paused the war that was raging between my wisdom tooth and the fleshy pink gum that is trying to swallow it. Nurofen, you are a true friend

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-60797706854135403042009-04-21T09:13:00.003+10:002009-04-21T13:33:02.400+10:00

I've been so slack about updating this blog lately. It's not that I haven't had anything to write - (au contraire, only this Sunday I had one of the best nights ever at a local Sydney pub, where I got to play along on my violin for a few songs. It was fantastic, and I made a mental note, through the alcoholic haze, to write a ravey blog entry, only I never did) - it's just that, I am SO EXCITED (

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-52721432143583800822009-04-09T07:56:00.003+10:002009-04-15T14:28:54.495+10:00

It's finally Easter! And I have survived two days of intensive boredom - sorry, 'training' - at work. The sessions were for the sales people, but my misguided boss is under the impression that I am always keen to attend these things and expand my horizons, or some such thing. He's kind of sweet in his own way and so I hate to disillusion him. It's like telling children there's no Santa (except

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-70177904822001088122009-04-03T12:55:00.000+11:002009-04-03T12:56:18.604+11:00

Wednesday was The Man’s birthday. I always get a kick out of the fact that he was born on April Fool’s Day. I’m sure there are some excellent witticisms to be had out of that. So far they have eluded me. But one day I’ll come out with a real zinger, I can sense it.The Man hates his birthday, as he says he hates being the centre of attention. Come to think of it, I actually met him on his

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-64425828440821556282009-03-30T13:51:00.000+11:002009-03-30T13:51:40.795+11:00

The band and I played again at the pub on Sunday night. This time I did three songs instead of two, so I feel good that progress was made! The guitarist shamelessly introduced us as an ‘up and coming Sydney band’, and I got a free soda water and lemon afterwards, so it must be true! It’s only a matter of time before people start giving me free drugs. The Man came last night as well, and was

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-75479626778134009332009-03-25T16:04:00.001+11:002009-03-25T16:05:15.052+11:00

So...it's all been a bit crappy lately. Further to my last post, there has been even more emotional drama, leaving me simultaneously drained/running on nervous energy. I don't even know how to feel any more. I certainly can't be bothered to run through everything that has happened on this blog. Just the thought of writing it is exhausting!Work is also getting me down. I despise my job enough

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-34011944739104444042009-03-18T12:40:00.000+11:002009-03-18T12:41:35.577+11:00

I've had a rough few days lately. I got it into my head that The Man was seeing another girl and was getting quite close to her. My jealousy was flying out of control. I was going to write a seething blog entry yesterday about what a revolting, man-chasing drip she is, and how I couldn't believe The Man would replace me with HER, and how he obviously never really loved me and I wasted the last

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-89552467973018145842009-03-09T15:58:00.000+11:002009-03-09T16:05:17.623+11:00

The other night I caught the end of a program about homelessness on the streets of Sydney. (It turns out it was a part of ‘A Current Affair’ – if I’d known that I’d have switched off immediately; I mean, I am university educated). So anyway, it was kind of sad and made me thing about the plight of the homeless. I have thought about it before, of course, but like the melting polar ice caps and

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-90600169673612806662009-03-04T11:54:00.003+11:002009-03-04T11:59:43.738+11:00

I’m only just beginning to realise the full extent of how angry I still am – mainly with myself – over my involvement with Other Man. In fact it’s getting worse and I need to resolve it before I turn into an embittered old maid who can’t bear the thought of letting a man touch her…or is it too late for that…?This Monday, which is about two weeks after we broke up, Other Man finally felt able to

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-56354297650142916442009-03-02T11:29:00.002+11:002009-03-02T17:14:06.713+11:00

So I finally made soap!I went to a workshop sometime near the end of last year to learn how to make soap. It has taken me that long to collect all the necessary equipment, and so it was with great excitement that I assembled all tools and got down to business last weekend.This is how I did it:1. Add water to caustic soda. The temperature rapidly rises so that the water steams and the glass

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-54042969371354039612009-02-14T20:08:00.003+11:002009-02-14T20:15:13.197+11:00

Other Man and I are now over.I told him last night. It was horrible. I thought I'd feel happy and relieved and lighthearted afterwards, but I didn't. I just felt cruel and regretful.I believe I did the right thing, but I can't help wishing I could take it back, give him a big and make him feel better. He was so shocked and seemed kind of upset. Made me feel like a colossal jerk, and so sad.

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-20955623172752819012009-02-12T09:44:00.003+11:002009-02-12T16:40:35.661+11:00

Yes, I have reasons to be cheerful! Isn't that nice?#1 Soap making - I have finally, finally, since my course in November or whenever it was, got together all the equipment I need to make my first attempt at soap. It is not much of an exaggeration to say, I can't wait! I have a new cheap saucepan expressly for the purpose; also roasting tray, spoon, sugar thermometers (you have NO idea how

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-91727562733080929612009-02-09T12:46:00.000+11:002009-02-09T12:47:06.363+11:00

This morning when I arrived at work I was dismayed to discover that I had an 8:30 team meeting to attend. 8:30 on a Monday morning? Who has meetings then? I’d spent the bus journey to work talking myself into a good morale for the week ahead, but then I found this in my diary and that was the end of that.This meeting was chaired by a Sales Manager, who we shall call Tony, a man takes his job

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-65914609862747536272009-02-04T13:44:00.000+11:002009-02-04T13:44:31.093+11:00

I'm aiming for this Sunday. I really have no idea how to do it. What's a nice way to break up with someone? I realise e-mail and text message are out, though even if I wanted to be so evil, it would hardly help given that I work a mere metres away from him.I was wondering, do I drop hints for a couple of weeks so as to soften the blow? Should I generally be a bitch for a while? Or be all

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-41723566218333961202009-01-28T16:39:00.000+11:002009-01-28T16:39:05.315+11:00

Things I'm loving this week:Salsa! I did two classes (two hours) last night and it was so much fun I could have died happy! I was exhausted though. Sad to think I have only got around doing it at age 30. So many wasted years!Haigh's dark chocolate. I got a box of this sent to me by a business contact to thank me for getting something signed. Soooo delicious. It's in my bedroom because I

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-53370359122795261862009-01-15T10:54:00.003+11:002009-01-15T11:15:38.968+11:00

I am having a long weekend starting tomorrow. I will be spending it at the Gold Coast, a place I have never wanted to go, with the Other Man, visiting his friend, who I have never met, but given that I despise pretty much all his friends that I have met so far, well. Fun. So why did I say I'd go? I'm just a girl who can't say no! La-la, la-la-la-la laaaaaaaah!Other news: I spent an absolute

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-18161097148719146732009-01-08T10:27:00.003+11:002009-01-08T10:59:01.252+11:00

...when your subconscious does this to you:Here's the bad dream I had last night: My inner slut likes to come out and play sometimes in my dreams, and last night she decided I was going to have dream sex with this random man. He seemed nice enough, so why not. He had bad skin with red lumps all over, and as I was undressing him I noticed big bumps on his bottom. I thought "Urgh, boils!".Then he

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-79295343718024498022009-01-06T11:58:00.002+11:002009-01-07T13:21:47.247+11:00

Well since the Man and I officially parted ways (though I'm using the word 'since' here kind of loosely, but let's not dwell on that...) I have been dipping my toes into the murky world of post 30's dating.I know everyone says 'dating'* is supposed to be different and more difficult when you're out of your 20s. I'm not sure about this. I still feel young. I think a suprising number of people

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-18155071493831331202009-01-05T14:45:00.001+11:002009-01-05T14:46:29.380+11:00

Here are my resolutions for the new year:1. To lose some weight. Yes, this is top of my list EVERY YEAR and miraculously, I am still not skinny! Still, I haven't started on a bad note - well, not as bad as some years. If I can get below 60 kg as my average weight, I will be a happy bunny.2. To save lots of money. To this end I have been spending a lot recently. Because, of course, I'm

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-35273429371521485992008-11-05T09:40:00.003+11:002008-11-05T14:25:10.733+11:00

I can't believe I used to find current affairs uninteresting. What was I thinking? As I write, Americans are (hopefully) voting in their first ever BLACK PRESIDENT. I can hardly contain myself. Well, I'd hardly be able to contain myself if I wasn't:Crazy busy at work;So hungover from emotional crying session last night that I look like a hideous, 50-year-old alcoholic;Umm, that's it.Anyway,

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-33565743268803503212008-10-31T10:04:00.002+11:002008-10-31T16:55:31.999+11:00

I thought I might fill this post with platitudes and have a big wallow in misery and self-hatred, but I've decided to be strict with myself. May as well not write the damn thing then.

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-69286188940301799012008-10-27T11:12:00.000+11:002008-10-27T11:12:24.125+11:00

'Faeces in Gelato' - this is one headline which pertains to the charming news story that broke yesterday, on the grisly allegation by a family that they were served ICE CREAM WITH HUMAN FAECES SMEARED ON IT at the Coogee Bay Hotel. The funny thing is, I was at the Coogee Bay Hotel yesterday and saw the news crew. I didn't know what the story was about, but luckily I didn't have any shitty ice

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-22400208431024254452008-10-13T10:41:00.005+11:002008-10-14T13:20:30.237+11:00

Yesterday the Man I had the exciting good fortune of being out and about in the NSW town of Minto, some hour and a half's drive (if you include the time I was pulled over by the cops for L-plate related crime) from Sydney. We had just turned the car around for the journey home when joy of joys, we spotted the Minto Festival!Now I'm no small fan of bucolic revelry, reminding me as it does of my

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-38285636020448870552008-07-28T16:25:00.001+10:002008-07-28T16:28:06.889+10:00

Another thing I can no longer do now I have braces...whistle. I had the urge to trill a little tune last night, puckered up and was shocked when nothing but 'pfft' came out. I'm not a big whistler, but it's nice to have the option, you know?

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-24299168614052201802008-07-22T12:09:00.004+10:002008-07-22T12:31:06.014+10:00

$86 million! That is what World Youth Day cost us NSW tax payers, according to the Sydney Morning Herald. And that doesn’t include another $42 million for use of the Randwick Racecourse. Ouch, ouch, ouch! Why don’t they just give the money to ME?Do they think that the benefits of having these visitors here will outweigh the $128 million spent? I heard they hardly spent anything here at all.

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-2332337776602077862008-07-10T16:51:00.001+10:002008-07-10T16:51:45.125+10:00

So, World Youth Day is coming to Sydney next week. The Sydney Morning Herald tells us the faithful have begun to arrive in droves. Today’s lunch - tomato soup - splattered over the following:“THEY packed their Bibles and rosary beads along with their bedrolls, sleepingbags, guitars and woolly beanies. Loudly and proudly they proclaimed their nationalities, wearing vibrant national colours and

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-36796567171531061382008-07-04T16:14:00.001+10:002008-07-04T16:16:14.589+10:00

Twenty two minutes. That is how long it now takes me to clean my teeth.Here is how I used to clean my teeth:1. Rinse and spit,2. Brush with electric toothbrush, including tongue, and roof of my mouth if I remember,3. Floss,4. Rinse and spit.Taking a total of 3 or 4 minutes depending on how much I could be bothered.Here is how, seemingly, I now have to clean them:1. Brush with electric toothbrush,

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-40131212162355722842008-07-04T16:10:00.000+10:002008-07-04T16:11:04.936+10:00

Thank you Blogger for losing my last post! Thank you!

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-70543644657714819442008-07-03T16:29:00.000+10:002008-07-03T16:29:50.230+10:00

I believe I may have mentioned last post that I was getting braces on. Well, they're on now, and unless I tear them forcibly from my mouth in a moment of desperation, that's how they'll be until I'm in my thirties. Gosh, I'm old.So now I have the pleasure of allowing everyone I know to acquaint themselves with my new look. Everyone I talk to looks at me in a "Something's funny with Sprite's

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-73978929584143234342008-07-02T14:01:00.003+10:002008-07-02T14:03:32.484+10:00

I am getting braces in an hour and a half. I don't really know what to expect, but here goes!

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-78624219587774248442008-07-01T16:38:00.001+10:002008-07-01T16:39:23.737+10:00

I'm back, having decided that if my work load doesn't ease off and allow me to blog, well, I'll ditch the workload. Bastards gave me a ridiculously paltry payrise at payrise time recently, so I'm sure they won't mind me slowing down and slacking off. You get what you pay for, right?It was a pretty traumatic weekend. The Man and I have been having Talks. We've sort of broken up, only, we're

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-63470226389922095862008-06-12T15:50:00.002+10:002008-06-12T15:53:09.066+10:00

I just came back from a very lovely very long weekend in Melbourne. (Well, not just come back, long enough to have done a million things at work). I have come to the conclusion, and excuse me ladies and gentlemen for being indelicate because you know I just hate that...that Melbourne completely shits all over Sydney. And I am going to move there at my earliest possible convenience!Melbourne is

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-52347069043820122632008-05-28T15:31:00.001+10:002008-05-28T17:00:05.653+10:00

Here’s my dilemma.There’s a guy at work. He is giving off definite vibes of liking me. You know, like that. He is very nice and personable and kind of hot. And at some point – soon – I really should drop into the conversation something about the Man. Like, really soon. And yet whenever we pass each other in the office and he stops and starts talking to me, asking me how I am, etc, I just can’t

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-34470438583308395022008-05-21T13:22:00.000+10:002008-05-21T13:22:40.227+10:00

Last night I dreamt I was helping a woman - my neighbour, I think - to give birth in the home section of David Jones. She was leaning over and doing that panting thing that women apparently do when they're giving birth, and I had to catch the baby. It popped out all in one go, with a slimy splash, and I did catch it. The other person who was with me told me watch out for the afterbirth. I

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-56349937068486958262008-05-20T13:31:00.000+10:002008-05-20T13:31:44.758+10:00

Last night the Man and I watched ‘The Kingdom’. I’d been excited to see it for ages, despite the bad reviews. It’s not often you see Saudi Arabia on the big screen so it’s a big deal for those of us who used to live there. I loved it right from the first moment, when they showed grainy news footage of Saudi streets and shopping malls, and women in top-to-toe black. Saudi Arabia at the movies!!!

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-87447942364666372962008-05-08T17:17:00.000+10:002008-05-08T17:18:16.225+10:00

Today I released my first two Bookcrossing books into the wild!One day about a year ago, I was wandering around the Centrepoint building in Sydney, needing the toilet if I remember rightly, when the Man exclaimed, “Oh look, a book over there on that bench!” I tried to hurry him past, feeling embarrassed. I get embarrassed over stuff like that. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s a knee-jerk reaction to

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-49011028039342517022008-05-06T11:40:00.000+10:002008-05-06T11:43:53.271+10:00

This headline in today's Sydney Morning Herald made me laugh: 'Cut Cannabis Use by Selling It At the Post Office'. Clearly I'm not the only one with a low opinion of the Post Office!

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-87285990236635451782008-05-02T06:11:00.000+10:002008-05-01T13:11:43.023+10:00

Today I received an e-mail from my parents to say that my cousin is getting married. My prettier, spoilt cousin, who never did quite as well as me in anything when we were children, yet somehow managed to go to Cambridge University, land herself a plum job in finance, and is now rich and successful. My cousin is also the first in our generation of the family to get married. I'm pretty sure it

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-84345367823659106872008-04-30T09:57:00.000+10:002008-04-29T16:59:14.114+10:00

What is it with people in shops and businesses telling me to come back in the middle of the day? Do I look like someone who doesn't have to work for a living? Let's start with the Post Office, though really, I don't expect too much from them. Obviously it's in their customer charter to be as obtuse, stupid and unhelpful as possible in their dealings with the public. I no longer bother to get

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-60701461565442396102008-04-28T08:31:00.000+10:002008-04-27T15:32:24.835+10:00

On Friday I was optimistic enough to board a bus with the intenton of going to the markets. Of course, being Anzac Day here in Australia, the bus detoured before we got to the centre of town and started heading somewhere entirely not near the markets.I got off before I ended up somewhere in the remotest suburbs where I believe they still worship the sun and eat people*, and found myself in a

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-90645333392678542962008-04-25T07:13:00.000+10:002008-04-24T14:20:02.213+10:00

Poor kitty is sick.I woke up this morning and opened the front door, as usual, expecting to see her happily trotting halfway down the hall by the time I got the door shut. She was there all right, curled up on the doorstep, but she didn't get up right away. She got to her feet slowly, poked her head through two of the bars on the outer door (just a metal grille), then another two. It was as if

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-8807999402390421222008-04-22T06:25:00.000+10:002008-04-21T13:32:06.808+10:00

Lately I’ve been enjoying reading the Sydney Morning Herald with my lunch, in the communal area at work. You can tell this by all the tomato-coloured stains that spatter its pages after 1 pm every afternoon. I have learned many exciting things. On Thursday, as I was shovelling pasta down my throat as fast as I could, I read an article about pro-anorexia websites, and how they’ve been damaging

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-81194457225237331222008-04-18T04:49:00.000+10:002008-04-17T14:39:59.885+10:00

In case anyone's interested, the Man and I did resolve our differences. Sort of. I was woken early on Saturday morning by the sound of hammering - he was fixing up our car - and he asked me what time I wanted to leave. I told him as frostily I could manage that I'd made other arrangements since he'd refused to take me, and he said he hadn't refused to take me...blah blah...so I ended up going

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-20198123948389307672008-04-12T03:23:00.000+10:002008-04-11T10:23:34.315+10:00

I am furious indeed this morning. I’ve just had a fight with the Man. Or rather, he threw a tantrum while I was getting ready this morning. Then I got all teary eyed and couldn’t speak, not because I was upset, but because I was so livid. I get like that when I’m furious. I start crying, and people think I’m soft. But I’m not, crying for me is just a knee-jerk reaction. So inconvenient.So anyway,

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-2823618327873802032008-04-09T06:21:00.000+10:002008-04-08T13:22:05.361+10:00

It turns out The Man has just bought a motorbike.I knew he was looking to buy one, but the first I heard that he had actually bought one was this morning, while we were chatting at the bus stop. He said, "blah blah blah helmet blah blah Ducatti blaaah blah..." (I'd tuned out for a while, you know what it's like) "...blah blaaaah, and the funny thing is, I ended up buying it from the other guy!""

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-34908161467966599562008-04-03T16:41:00.000+11:002008-04-03T17:02:26.840+11:00

The dear man reached a ridiculously large age on Tuesday. His loving nephew bought him a chocolate cake from David Jones, as I didn't have time to make him one. Though I did provide the magic* candles.Now, I am such a huge lover of chocolate that it was to be expected that I'd be the one to do the majority of polishing off the cake over the ensuing days. But in this cake, I may have finally

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-90235654551693110512008-03-29T18:42:00.001+11:002008-03-29T19:11:26.597+11:00

Poor, neglected blog. What can I say? They've been working me like a dog at work. I work like crazy all day, then go home to soak in the bath and try and feel human again, then start the whole thing over again the next day.Of course, I could have written over the Easter break, but I was too busy cooking. I don't cook anywhere near as much as I used to, so every now and then my need to make

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-12394360361772218062008-03-13T11:23:00.000+11:002008-03-12T17:25:39.237+11:00

You may think that as a straight woman, I don’t have to worry about psycho girlfriends. But if you thought that, you would be wrong.When my darling youngest brother first told me he had a new girlfriend, who he’d met in France, I must admit I was rather proud of him. My little brother, with a sophisticated French woman! And an academic high-flyer, no less. Mon dieu!My family all speak varying

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-69953023076329356692008-03-08T11:24:00.000+11:002008-03-07T16:24:49.696+11:00

It's been all hands on deck here at the Stationery Cabinet. I have been very, very busy. Some days I have been working through lunch and not leaving until six. Until six, I tell you! I am tempted to set my e-mails to out of office just so that everyone will sod off and leave me alone.I'm also a bit sick. I can't seem to get enough sleep, and when I do have an early night I have lurid dreams

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-26376312394829142682008-03-01T16:00:00.000+11:002008-02-29T21:00:37.266+11:00

This morning on the bus someone had the most foul loud music playing - they don't call them personal stereos any more and it's probably just as well, as they're not terribly personal when you blast them at a million decibels. It was so loud, you couldn't just hear the tinny sound of the beat, but you could even hear the wailing women's voices too. It was putrid. Such things are never good for

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-20859996361429824232008-02-26T11:30:00.000+11:002008-02-25T16:32:41.403+11:00

From the moment I first heard the name Andre Rieu, I had a bad feeling about the man.My boss was pretty excited to find out that I play the violin. He immediately asked me enthusiastically if I knew of Andre Rieu. I said no, and immediately had a little panic that this was a top class soloist who I somehow happened to never notice existed, thus making myself look stupid. (I am pretty ignorant,

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-54246114257935729242008-02-22T11:37:00.000+11:002008-02-21T16:55:30.011+11:00

I believe in my last post I may have mentioned that I recently had my cholesterol levels measured, and that I scored ‘super excellent’. My work’s put on a ‘health expo’ where all week, you can get stuff like that checked. I also scored very well on blood pressure, blood glucose, and BMI (ok, not very well on BMI. Just well.)So with all ticks next to ‘ideal’ on my scorecard, I was feeling like a

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-12306595542633534072008-02-21T12:15:00.000+11:002008-02-20T17:12:38.323+11:00

I have serious doubts about hygiene in the food industry of this country.I try not to, because that means I have to COOK, and whilst I love cooking, I also love not having to spend my entire evening after work peeling vegetables and washing up. But it’s a niggling worry.Take Friday, after work. (Ok, I admit it, I’ve been saving up this anecdote all week and am only just blogging about it

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-70222851661019594122008-02-14T07:28:00.000+11:002008-02-13T12:35:50.218+11:00

How thrilled I am that Kevin Rudd has chosen to make today ‘Sorry Day’. I stumbled in to work late, but just in time to join a small crowd of my colleagues around the TV to watch the speech live. I’m glad to know I will always remember where and when I was for this little piece of history. Finally a good piece of history, an event only a little less fabulous than the last general election - we

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-15004604970390862292008-02-13T08:22:00.000+11:002008-02-12T16:46:38.927+11:00

Yesterday I had a call from my case worker at DIMIA, or whatever they’re calling the immigration department these days. I’d been hoping to hear from them with a final ruling on my residency (a positive ruling of course), but instead he wanted to ask me some questions about my relationship with the Man. He seemed very suspicious because I’ve been to England twice in the last three years to visit

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-1718929224515354512008-02-12T11:27:00.000+11:002008-02-11T16:27:51.245+11:00

I can report that I saw Nigel Kennedy in concert on Friday at the Opera House, and it was very good. I believe he’s still got some more performances so there’s still time if you want to catch him!I don’t often get to see classical concerts – who does? And every time I do I’m impressed once again by the unbelievable abilities of the performers. It makes me itch to run to my violin case and get

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-64753748201880573442008-02-07T15:14:00.000+11:002008-02-07T15:16:12.899+11:00

I’m quite excited. On Saturday morning I’m going to get my hair chemically relaxed. Goodbye fuzzy helmet hair, hello floppy mane! I’ve never had the treatment before, so here’s hoping that it works/doesn’t make all my hair break off.I can’t tell you how depressing it is to spend 10 – 15 minutes every morning drying and straightening it, only to have it return almost to its natural hideous

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-7494790036851052962008-02-06T16:47:00.000+11:002008-02-05T21:48:03.371+11:00

Woah, sorry about the huge self pity-fest that was my last post. What can I say? It's that time of the month. I'm past the uncontrollable rage stage, but still not yet out of the woods on the angst front.Added to that, I was a bit out of sorts at work today. A new guy has joined our team and is temporarily seated in the empty desk next to me. This is annoying because it means our boss is

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-69450120054634179962008-02-06T12:22:00.000+11:002008-02-05T17:28:15.400+11:00

Non-Blondie, whose blog I always enjoy, just wrote a rather sad entry about her family. At least, it made me feel a bit sad. So while we’re on the subject, I’m moved to have a little whinge about my own family. Because as we know, blogging is free therapy. The best kind!I grew up in an ordinary nuclear family. Well, ordinary in terms of headcount I suppose. My parents can most kindly be described

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-84244103449674000772008-02-05T11:49:00.000+11:002008-02-04T16:55:42.738+11:00

You know, it really ought to be Tuesday today. That’s what my mind keeps telling me. Our first day back at work last week was Tuesday, because of the holiday, and now I can’t come to terms with the fact that it’s Monday. To cap it all, I’ve got to go to the chiropractor after work.My chiropractor always keeps me waiting at least half an hour after my appointment time, the receptionist is

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-85373796281994333892008-01-31T05:48:00.000+11:002008-01-30T12:34:57.681+11:00

The third and final installment:I spent the rest of the day wandering around trying to find the notable spots mentioned in the guidebook, as you do, taking the long way round everywhere. I wandered first around a garden near the palace area, and then round the vast Imperial Plaza in front of the palace grounds. You don’t get to see much, and the gardens were unimpressive. I presume the latter was

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-42976897454802248972008-01-26T11:10:00.000+11:002008-01-25T16:10:32.554+11:00

I must say eBay and Amazon have totally been my friends this last year. There’s nothing quite like shopping online when you’re a) totally bored at work and b) need stuff and don’t have the time and inclination to go out and about for them in your precious after-work hours. The drawback to Amazon is that there’s no Amazon.com.au, so I have to order from Amazon.co.uk and pay delivery charges of

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-43650065903267689262008-01-23T12:08:00.000+11:002008-01-23T12:22:21.468+11:00

I unthinkingly named the previous post ‘The Tokyo Diaries - Part 1' so now I have to continue. Curses. On with part 2 then.Once in the safety of my room, I opened my suitcase, found some pyjamas amongst all my spanking new bargain clothes (which I took the opportunity to admire once again), and sat shivering on the bed under the stark light. It was pretty depressing. The carpet was all

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-12157403655399751732008-01-19T10:40:00.000+11:002008-01-18T16:00:00.639+11:00

I thought today I’d start my Tokyo travelogue. The result of forty-eight jetlagged hours stumbling around Japan’s capital, it’s your definitive guide to this great city.Part 1My flight from London arrived on the evening of January 12th. I stumbled onto steady land dazed and hardly daring to believe I’d survived the journey without going mad and stabbing my neighbour in the jugular with a plastic

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-63506561375560309112008-01-17T10:09:00.000+11:002008-01-16T15:10:39.245+11:00

Last night I had a vivid dream about flesh-eating zombies. I know, what the hell? Who seriously has dreams like that? It had a plot and everything. There was also an opening dream, where I was romantically involved with my boss. Again. This is getting tiresome. Maybe I should have an affair with him to get it out of my system, though I’m not sure he’d let me, seeing as how he’s happily

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-37376414157777509782008-01-15T10:22:00.000+11:002008-01-14T15:21:55.289+11:00

I’m back, the Stationery Cabinet is now officially open for business, I’m tackling the backlog of those all important requests for paper clips and such, which means the company can finally begin functioning properly once again. I’m adjusting surprising well, given that I only returned to Australia yesterday morning. My appetite’s not quite returned to its usual ravening levels and I keep

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-23727515032699853892008-01-06T03:26:00.000+11:002008-01-06T03:40:21.749+11:00

It's been a very long time since I wrote, but I am still alive and well and in England. I haven't had a chance to sit at a computer and blog since I got here, believe it or not, but I do have new subject matter, including:1. My fantastic Japanese airport hotel room - especially the magic toilet!2. My brother's psycho girlfriend, who's managed to alienate most of the family;3. How much I love

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-34229223093475238012007-12-20T06:35:00.000+11:002007-12-20T06:36:26.622+11:00

I'm about to leave for England. The Stationery Cabinet is now closed for business. Apologies for any inconvenience.

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-852055841039970032007-12-18T11:29:00.000+11:002007-12-18T11:31:16.072+11:00

Now, I realize my blog hasn’t exactly been overflowing with quality material this past two weeks. This is because I’ve been busy at work, and anyway, all I can think about right now is my imminent trip to England for Christmas, and I don’t think anyone else is going to be as blown away by my shopping plans as I am, so it’s best not to write anything.I hope to have way more to blog about once I’m

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-85019609569289337212007-12-11T11:41:00.000+11:002007-12-10T16:42:39.482+11:00

Yesterday was my first ever visit to a vet. The cat had a cut paw, so we borrowed the neigbours’ (her real owners’) cat carrier and made an appointment. Or at least, we made an appointment after The Man made a big fuss about how we had to find a vet who voted Green because patronising a Liberal vet would be supporting someone who was against us, and despite it being first thing on Sunday

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-64320329912479152472007-12-08T10:56:00.000+11:002007-12-07T15:57:46.145+11:00

Huzzah for the Christmas season! Even when I’m not at boozy work lunches, my boss is and I can skip home early.Leaving me free to prepare for Christmas. I’ve just finished all my cards, with labels all printed out by mail merge. Well, I am the queen of stationery! I’m beginning to get a bit nervous about my trip to England. How can I say this…I’m a bit scared of my family, to be honest. They

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-70079071698788054752007-12-05T05:46:00.000+11:002007-12-04T10:47:30.683+11:00

I prepared today’s lunch last night whilst watching television. It took me a long time, but it was worth it in the end because it all looked so delicious.I made a box of chopped fruit, as always. Then I made up a box of crispy chopped salad, with herbs and olive oil. Yum. Then I took a little plastic container with two sections. In one section I put rice; then I shelled some prawns and put

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-58188710901330624492007-12-04T11:31:00.000+11:002007-12-03T16:34:57.937+11:00

I was happily making myself scarce from work on Friday afternoon when a colleague appeared at my elbow and asked me if I had anything planned for the weekend – as colleagues do.“Well actually, I do” I trilled. “I’m going to the ballet to see ‘The Nutcracker’!”“Oh really? That’s wonderful!” he cried. I was a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm, but pleased.“Yes, and we were really lucky to get

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-15154567925663708502007-11-27T11:52:00.000+11:002007-11-26T16:58:40.054+11:00

How good was the election? It went with a swing at my house! The house looked beautiful on the evening. The weather was awful in the morning, then cleared up just perfectly for the party. It really was everything I could have wished for. There was a great atmosphere. It was like when sports lovers get together for a big match, only more electric. And when Maxine McKew came on and made her

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-8152543990840690072007-11-24T07:11:00.000+11:002007-11-23T12:11:34.516+11:00

Just got out of a meeting about Customer Service. An hour of blabbing on about how it’s important to improve customer experience and do things better. Like, duh. It was all ‘journey’ this and ‘in flight’ that and ‘dropping the ball’. What a bunch of wankers I work with. Speak fucking English! How about we have a new slogan: ‘Just Do It’. (Or ‘For Fuck’s Sake, Just Do It). God forbid we

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-53386660305989109872007-11-22T06:28:00.000+11:002007-11-21T11:31:20.241+11:00

It’s my birthday today. I got the angst out of my system yesterday so I don’t really mind today.My boss gave me a bottle of wine – he’s very sweet – and is taking me to lunch.The movie last night was ok. At the beginning I was determined not to follow it and to fall asleep pointedly, but in the end I got into it and it wasn’t too bad. The worst moment really was in the trailers, when I said,

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-3604222118676577742007-11-21T11:22:00.000+11:002007-11-20T16:27:07.711+11:00

Depressing times. Tomorrow is my 29th birthday. The last time I will ever in my life have a birthday and still be young. I’m so sad when I think about it. I don’t want to lose my youth. Being young is the only thing that makes it ok that I haven’t done the things I wanted to do. Being young is part of who I am. Sob.I don’t think I’ll be doing anything special tomorrow. The Man is going to

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-7022581888331266782007-11-20T11:36:00.000+11:002007-11-19T16:38:44.230+11:00

How do you know when you’re bored in a meeting? When you’re praying for a family emergency to give you an excuse to leave. That is how boring my entire week was last week.Yes, I know I’ve been offline for a while. It was a special time at work. Three days of presentations in the accursed PowerPoint and coma inducing boredom. You know the sort of thing. The seconds passed like ice ages. At

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-32914061229884328832007-11-10T05:10:00.000+11:002007-11-09T10:18:39.159+11:00

Boy, am I sick of the rain. It’s been raining every day here in Sydney for days now. The rain can’t even be bothered to fall now. It just hangs there in a haze; trillions of tiny droplets of sogginess floating in the atmosphere, waiting for people to get out off buses so it can ruin their hair and dew up their coats. People at work keep making cracks about how I must be feeling at home, being

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-88115296729358212372007-11-08T07:30:00.000+11:002007-11-07T12:31:58.638+11:00

I have a shocking revelation to make.I’m an avid reader of romance novels. In fact, I rarely read any other kind of fiction!God, that was hard. It feels like such a shameful thing to admit! I don’t know anyone else who reads them, or at least, not who will admit to it. I mean, I know of lots of romance readers, and while away many a happy hour on this website, getting book recommendations and

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-27741358214738798512007-11-06T04:56:00.000+11:002007-11-05T09:58:39.815+11:00

Sorry, today's post is some rantiness that's souring my system. It is Monday, after all.Is it just me, or has the late 30’s/early 40’s age group completely taken over the media or what? It feels like everything on TV is aimed at them. I’m talking about pop stuff like reality TV, drama series, quiz shows, etc etc, (most of which I don’t watch anyway). Every time you switch the television on it

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-52944322787616597032007-11-01T07:50:00.000+11:002007-10-31T13:51:53.763+11:00

Another year, another Halloween rolls by. It’s always been one of my favourite events of the year, dating to back to my bewildered early childhood years in the American community in Saudi Arabia. The Americans really do take their Halloween seriously! And I earnestly applaud that. Any tradition that requires you to go from house to house, collecting sweets, then taking them home to horde and

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-89136646104945055802007-10-27T05:10:00.000+10:002007-10-26T12:14:29.303+10:00

I know I’ve been quiet lately. I’ve been pretty under the weather all week. I took the day off on Wednesday to do some medical stuff. On Tuesday I managed to trap my fingers in a bin, punch myself in the face with my desk phone and spill the soil and water from a plant all over my desk, so I was probably due a sanity day. I spent it doing the rounds at various medical establishments.First, I

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-76220776091035745582007-10-19T10:19:00.000+10:002007-10-18T17:23:38.608+10:00

I’ve just got back from the odious pit of boganity that is the Macquarie Shopping Centre. It’s an artificially lit, subterranean nightmare of a place, so unsettlingly disordered, I imagine Satan couldn’t do better if he tried to recreate in Hell one of those horrifying labyrinths you get trapped in in nightmares. In addition, the people clutter up the escalators instead of standing on the left,

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-3174691049707792922007-10-18T08:01:00.000+10:002007-10-17T15:02:02.020+10:00

Yes, I live in the Eastern Suburbs, though I don’t own an SUV and I don’t dress half my age. I realize I’m compromising my anonymity somewhat by admitting where I live, but don’t come a-stalking. I’m a cop’s sister now, as my brother proudly called me in the middle of some quality sleep to inform me last night.So, to the birds. It’s quite a cast of characters. Leading lights include:1.

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-82123701791158891992007-10-17T08:31:00.000+10:002007-10-16T15:31:30.888+10:00

Finally, the election has been called. At last, I get to send my groovy PowerPoint invitation to everyone I’ve ever met, in order that they may admire my skills. So now, the massive house clean begins. Both fridges have wet themselves in fear. (Or maybe because the Man accidentally turned one off overnight and I left the other freezer door ajar). Dove shit has been scraped off the floorboards

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-70428425290228327612007-10-12T07:33:00.000+10:002007-10-11T14:38:38.423+10:00

Lately I’ve been enjoying Daisy’s blog, Saudi Stepford Wife. Daisy is an American living in Saudi Arabia with her Saudi husband. I can’t remember now how I found her blog – probably in one of my stalker moods, looking for long-lost expat friends. As a former resident myself, I get a thrill reading about the daily goings-on of folks in the good ole KSA (Kingdom of Saudi Arabia). Lately Daisy’s

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-63786517708385682032007-10-09T09:33:00.000+10:002007-10-08T16:44:02.583+10:00

Last night I had an erotic dream about my boss (though we weren’t actually having sex, thank God). Doubly disturbing, this is the second time I’ve had an indecent dream about him. I'm feeling kind of grossed out.Now I should clarify, my subconscious has good taste. My boss is actually quite a handsome man. I don’t use the word ‘handsome’ very often, but in his case it’s justified. And he

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-6880932026590847942007-10-06T04:44:00.000+10:002007-10-05T11:45:44.567+10:00

I got home from ballet class last night (hobbled home actually) to find the dove perching high up on the window ledge. Let me explain: We have full length windows at the back of the house. On top of the windows is a ledge, then from the ledge, more windows go up into a triangle, as our ceiling is not flat, it’s pointy. (I’m good at explaining house stuff, aren’t I? And I’m not even an estate

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-50325043035758133282007-10-04T09:43:00.000+10:002007-10-02T16:55:46.578+10:00

Now all the drama of the day is over, I am free to ruminate over the happenings of my action-packed weekend!Highlights/lowlights include:1. Endless football games on TV all SaturdayI think it might have been rugby, but what do I know. All I know is that The Man assured me they were all of vital significance in the nation’s sporting history, thus we had to have men running around chasing a ball

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-29480813017610394252007-10-03T03:20:00.000+10:002007-10-02T10:20:27.557+10:00

I’m exhausted already. It’s taken me two hours to get to work. I got into the city and realized I’d forgotten my security pass. So I had to go back home to get it. And it’s such a hot day! It’s a good job I did go back for it. Today the PM is visiting our humble premises to schmooze with the execs and kiss babies that will doubtless be borrowed from the childcare centre. I had to check my

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-33513085257344142892007-09-28T09:58:00.000+10:002007-09-27T16:59:48.279+10:00

I’m a bit grossed out and disturbed.I have a rash on my lower right leg. I’ve had a slight rash there for quite some time, but lately I’ve noticed it spreading, so I thought I should do something about it. But who has time to go to the doctor? Ok, I have time – let’s face it, I don’t actually do anything at work – but I don’t know if I can be bothered to sit around at the clinic for hours with

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-74715050655964951182007-09-26T09:31:00.000+10:002007-09-26T09:42:46.149+10:00

It turned out the dove actually was in the house after all – I KNEW IT!!! It takes more than a small bird to pull a fast one on me.I discovered it the next morning as I was checking my e-mails. The cat had finally managed to stir herself from the back of the house where she’d been comatose for the past 12 hours or so, strolled in, and miaowed at me. Then she cocked her head at a funny angle,

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-11438601123088533592007-09-22T14:21:00.000+10:002007-09-21T21:23:32.394+10:00

Somewhere in my house a dove is most probably roaming free. No idea where it is – it could be behind the washing machine, under the bed, on a bookshelf, etc. It could be stashed at the back of a kitchen cupboard. The worst part of this is the ‘probably’. It’s the uncertainty. Two days ago the Man rescued this dove from the road on his way home from work. He doesn’t know what had

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-4164038110872052512007-09-20T05:26:00.000+10:002007-09-19T12:27:41.571+10:00

I’ve been on the edge of my seat this week, ever since Sunday when John Howard threatened to resign.The thing is, the Man and I are planning to have an election party on the day of – you guessed it – the election. Actually, it could be described more accurately as an ‘Out John Howard’ party. So you can see we attach a certain importance to Howard actually fighting the election. We could have an ‘

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-24877217870247591852007-09-18T09:32:00.000+10:002007-09-17T16:53:20.018+10:00

Last night I had a troubled dream in which I was driving out-of-control in a city somewhere, lurching around the road and shocking the drivers and pedestrians around me.Actually, it was only a slightly exaggerated version of my driving lesson yesterday afternoon. My subconscious obviously took it to heart. The Man is my driving teacher. He morphs into this cruel, judgemental drill sergeant type

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-16510742408983910842007-09-15T09:40:00.000+10:002007-09-14T16:48:30.920+10:00

After a coffee date with a friend on Wednesday, during which I repeatedly told her I wouldn’t join Facebook because I thought it was lame and loserish, I joined Facebook.I’m not sure why I did it. I didn’t actually think about it. But at some point during my day of boredom at work yesterday, I found myself on the page signing up. The part of the conversation where my friend stressed how much

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960003863080798253.post-64385127909914847892007-09-12T10:26:00.000+10:002007-09-12T10:30:48.877+10:00

I am so bored at work at the moment. Don't get me wrong - in principle, I'm not unfulfilled being the office dogsbody/bottom feeder. As long as I have plenty going on, I’m ok with being the dumb brunette who photocopies the agendas and stuff. I don’t mind underachieving as long as it keeps me busy. But seriously, I have so little going on right now, all I do all day is surf the net. It’s

Spritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14886720306429274861noreply@blogger.com2