Where the Grass is Greener

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    31 August 2006

    WordCount Poetry

    There is a great site WordCount which is an experiment in the way we use language by showing the top 86,800 words we use in order of commonality.

    Now it's time for WordCount Poetry! My favourite one is when you look up 'america' you get "america ensure oil opportunity".

    I love typing in names - there's "murphy sleeve portable brains" for example.

    I also type in really random words to try to get one that is as close to the end as possible.

    My competitive streak also makes me try to see whose names I beat in terms of commonality. "Miff' does not appear, and neither does "Alby", but "Sherd" and "Lan" totally make appearances.

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      29 August 2006

      Book Meme #2

      Thanks again to some more sneaky Sherdy tagging (and yes, this is much easier than blogging) here is another book meme.

      Take the neaest book, turn to page 123, find the fifth sentence and publish the next four.

      I'm sitting at husband's computer at home and I've picked up Spike Milligan's Rommel? Gunner Who? A confrontation in the desert which I have not read. I appears to be about his adventures during the war which he has "jazzed up a little" as the prologue states. It also appears to be funny (being Spike Milligan you would expect that).

      All the mail didn't bring good news. Sgt Dale says "'Ere! My missus has run off with a bleedin' Polish airman!" "That's funny, so 'as mine. They must be short of planes."

      If I had been at work it would have been Practical Star Gazing, so I think we are all lucky.

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        The Tartan and Ukulele Woman

        I like meeting new people. Especially when those people are incredibly passionate, enthusiastic and perhaps a little bit eccentric.

        Today I met a woman (whose name disappeared into the mists of my brain as soon as she started talking) who meets this criteria all too well. This woman practically spoke in exclamation marks (or surprise marks as they should rightly be called - but that's an argument between me and Lan for another day).

        She gushed into the tea room where my manager and I were preparing our lunch: "I just have to tell someone what just happened to me!" She went on to tell the most amazingly fascinating story about her 10 year obsession with tartan, how she had learnt to recognise different types, knew when they were real or fake, researched different tartans and what they are used for, and so on.

        After this flurry of information she got to the crux of the story, which was that she had seen a beautiful tartan school uniform and had asked the student what the significance of that tartan was for their school. Apparently tartans are often linked to school uniforms by the suburb the school is in, or have some other significance. Anyway, back to her story - the student didn't know what tartan was, let alone why it was their school uniform. Thankfully Tartan Woman realised that a short explanation was probably in order and mention 'Scottish clans' and left it at that.

        She then told us that for public transport tartans they make up fake ones so that no one clan can get offended.

        Clans usually have at least two tartans - an everyday tartan and one for meeting aristocracy. Several clans/names which are still in use today also have ancient and modern tartans.

        She also told us the reason they use tartan on school uniforms, public transport and pencil cases - they don't show dirt or stains. Very scientific. IN fact, the Tartan Woman once ran a program in Science Week for scientists (at a conference maybe?) where she interpreted the tartan on their pencil cases. Or something.

        I asked her if anyone had ever called her a 'Big Tart'. Score one to me.

        I learnt a lot about tartan, which I will store with all my other useless facts but it did make me curious as to how they choose tartans for school uniforms - do the factories just go "ummm... We've got a lot of red and blue and a bit of yellow. Lets go with that." or do the schools just see what they can get 900 metres of at the cheapest price?

        There is a thesis in there - I know it! I couldn't convince my mum to change her thesis topic (hers is actually about uniforms, just not tartan) so will have to leave it open for someone else.

        So Tartan Woman has a convert. I am intrigued. Probably not to the point of actually researching anything, but I've thought about tartan all afternoon. That has to count for something doesn't it?

        As she was leaving she asked if I played the ukulele. Random question to which she was expecting a 'no'. Random answer - yes I can play a little as my dad got one for his birthday so I tried playing it and it is much like a guitar (strangely enough). She was very excited. Even more excited than about tartan. She told me that the Melbourne Ukulele Society (I've made that up - I can't remember what it was actually called) was doing a recruitment drive at the moment, of which she is a member, and did I have my own ukulele? She can get me one!! It would be a great way for me to meet some Melbournians!!!

        Too much excitement for me, and I'm not sure the members of the Melbourne Ukulele Society are exactly the sort of people I'd be looking to meet. Or maybe they are? I do like anything that gives me an excuse to sing along...

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          Book Meme

          Have been tagged by Sherdy to do a book meme.
          The hardest bit in deciding was limiting myself to 'one book' as I love reading serials. Here goes...

          1. One book I've read more than once.
          Daughter of the Empire by Janny Wurts (what a name) and Raymond E Feist. A girl who I did a Youth Theatre production with (lets call her Darby) gave it to me in year 11. A girl that Darby went to school with (who she didn't like) had borrowed it from the school library and then left it at Darby's house. She said I could have it in the hope this girl would get a big library fine. I loved it and bought the following two books.

          2. One book I would want on a desert island.
          Bridget Jones' Diary by Helen Fielding is one of those comforting books that I love, is funny, taints my speech when I'm reading it, reminds me to lust after Colin Firth, and always gives me a sense of 'at least that isn't me'. Oh, and has a happy ending.

          3. One book that made me laugh.
          Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams which I read in Indonesia in year 9 - thanks to Lan for lending it to me!

          4. One book that made me cry.
          Down by the River by Edna O'Brien. I read this in year 10 when I was doing Irish Lit and produced my major work for Art based on it. The story of a 14yr old Irish girl who is raped and becomes pregnant by her widowed father in the first two pages. Suffice to say the rest of the book is pretty dark and focuses on the abortion debate.

          5. One book I wish I'd written.
          Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by JK Rowling. I want to be rich too! Plus I love Harry and am going to marry him one day (he'll just have to take an aging potion or something).

          6. One book I wish had never been written.
          The Little Book of Farts which is, yes, all about farts. It includes interesting facts, historical fart stories, fart astrology, names and descriptions of farts, and more. It even makes fart noises when you open the cover (as I discovered in the quiet book shop). I purchased this as a joke Christmas present for husband. He thought it was hilarious and regularly gets it out for a giggle, or shows it to people visiting. The worst is when someone notices it on the shelf and I have to explain why we own a book about farts. I was hoping the batteries for the fart noises would run out quickly. They didn't.

          I wish that David Tench was a book so that I could mention it here. I wish that show had never been written. Just dreadful.

          7. One book I'm currently reading.
          Poirot's Early Cases by Agatha Christie. I tend to go through phases - if I'm not reading Pratchett, I'm reading Christie.

          8. One book I've been meaning to read.
          The Kalahari Typing School for Men by Alexander McCall Smith. I've read the first two in his The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency Collection and fully intend to read the last two once I'm out of my current Christie phase. I was given these for Christmas and have enjoyed them so far. They somehow got put on the back burner though.

          9. One book that changed my life.

          The Midnight Marauder which was from the Trixie Belden books. I read it in year 3 and it was the first novel I ever read. This book made me realise that I could read 'chapter books' and began my love of reading. I read the whole book mis-pronouncing 'antique' (anti-kew) and not knowing what a 'marauder' was.

          10. One book that made me think.
          The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas by John Boyne. Described as 'childhood fable based on the Holocaust'. I couldn't put it down. It was the sort of story where you can see the inevitable ending, but you keep reading in the vain hope it doesn't happen.

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            28 August 2006

            A weekend summary

            After three full days at work - yes, a whole three - I was absolutley sodding wrecked. Being the first non-domestic related work I had done in two months it was hard to get back into a routine more structured than "Queer Eye at 12, Oprah at 1, then maybe some lunch and read a book". Getting up at 6.30am has been a challenge too.

            So following my day at work on Friday I was glad to receive a sms inviting me for drinkies with Bernadette. At home both husband and I collapsed on the couch and agreed it woulld be a lazy weekend.

            Saturday was breakfast at the markets and then grocery shopping. It was freezing in the morning, but once the sun managed to pierce through the clouds it was quite a nice day. A day nice enough to go shopping on Brunswick St!!!

            We purchased a whole new outfit (including shoes) for husband, a couple of new tops for me, and a gym membership for the two of us. We are so way totally motivated. Like totally. We are soooo going to go to the gym.

            Sunday morning saw me on Brunswick St again having coffee with J.Wo who has a lovely little baby bump on the grow. Very cute on someone so tiny! I caught up on all the Q happenings, and shared all my happenings here.

            One of the things I miss most of all about being new somewhere isn't so much that I don't know anyone but that I don't know anyone well enough to gossip about them or with them. Except my relatives of course. ;o)

            Husband and I visited the gym and played on the cardio stuff. Felt v invigorated.

            Sunday afternoon was lazily spent having a 'craft-a-noon' thanks to a pressie from Sherdy of a ladybug cross stitch. I am so craft-a-licious. Admittedly I cocked it up a little bit, but I managed to unpick and fix. Will post a piccie of my clever, clever work when I remember to download one from my phone.

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              24 August 2006

              Office Goddess is (re)born

              The end of my second day at my new job... Tired. It has just gone 8.30pm and I'm thinking of going to bed. I don't mind the going to work part, but I've spent the last two months getting up whenever I like - and I miss it.

              So far the job seems like it will be quite interesting, although I'm a little lacking in guidance at the moment. I will be learning to present the Lightning Room (Tesla Coil) and the Planetarium shows, which I wasn't aware was part of the job, but it shouldn't be too difficult and hopefully will be a bit of fun.

              I'm not looking forward to working weekends (I will do one full weekend and one Sunday a month) and next week I have to work seven days in a row. Gah!

              The people I work with (mostly women, as any good visitor programs team should be) are all very nice and I'm looking forward to getting to know them all better.

              My drive to and from work adds up to 78km. This sounds really bad (actually, I suppose it is) but the drive takes about 40mins and is mostly freeway, so it doesn't feel long because I'm always moving. I am investigating shorter routes, although I suspect this will involve purchasing and E-Tag, so each trip would cost something like $6.

              For someone who didn't have to fill their car with petrol for a month after arriving here, I'll be re-filling every five days.

              I've kind of ruled out the public transport option as the station is too far away to walk to easily, and I don't like the idea of doing that at night.

              I've got a little hidey hole desk, which is nice and private. The floor seems pretty quiet, although I'm sure once I'm in my comfort zone it won't stay that way. Bring on the singing.


              Item 1: Tall partitions between the desks. Can't see over them when I'm standing. Very different from the open plan office I'm used to!


              Item 2: Random boxes of crap left over from past programs (this will look very familiar to Sherdy).


              Item 3: The only other person I can see from my desk sits next to me. She is on leave this week, so I'm looking forward to her getting back. It is weird (and I think a little bit of bad planning) to no be able to see the rest of my team mates. They sit behind me in the same set up. My manager sits in a different section altogether.


              Item 4: In front of me is a huge set of shelves. Again, lots of random crap from old programs. I'm going to have to be quite diligent in stretching my eyes regularly as the furthest distance I can see is only a few metres.

              I'm having to do a bit of re-birth back into office clothes. I'm still trying to work out what the lowest level of casual that will be acceptable is. When I'm presenting I have to wear a uniform (nnnooooooo!!!) so I'm pretty sure (although no one has actually told me this) that I'm going to be wearing a lot of black pants and shoes in my near future. I'm doing a bit of assuming and guess work as to what is expected as I haven't really had an induction yet.

              It is strange to go from being the person who knew lots to the person who knows nothing. I can't wait to reach the day where I sit back and smile at how in hand I have things.

              I'm still waiting to have my own log in, email address, swipe card and keys. Nothing makes a girl feel welcome like not being able to get into her own building or use the computers!

              Now off to bed. I'm pooped.

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                22 August 2006

                Ricky Ricardo's Blog

                While adventuring up in Northern Territory trying to communicate the joy of maths to children, Ricky has started a blog.

                He has got me worried about butterfly farms.

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                  Je suis returnee

                  I got home yesterday (ooh, weird to think of Melbourne as 'home') form my long-ish weekend in Canberra.

                  Got in Thursday lunch time and my parentals picked me up from the airport (where it doesn't cost $9 to park for more than 20mins) and we went to Chill for lunch at Campbell shops. Here dad had his 'Last Supper' pre being admitted to hospital that afternoon.

                  After dropping mum and dad at the hospital I quickly discovered I had nothing to do except wait for my sister and friends to finish work. Tra la laaa.... waiting, waiting, waiting.

                  Finally Nellie returned and we went into Ckivs (Civic to those who are me or Lan) to meet up with Lan and then on to ANU to have coffee with Natnou at Sizzle Bento. Where was Sizzle Bento when I was at ANU? Entirely not fair.

                  Then Nell and I went to the hospital to say good night to dad and good luck for the morrow. Dad had a room with nice big windows looking out over the car park and onto Black Mountain - and yet I couldn't convince my mum or Nellie to moon out the window. Honestly, what is wrong with the world today?

                  Friday was a day of holding our breath. Dad was already gone for surgery at 8am when mum went in to see him off. The nurses suggested calling ICU at about lunch time. So we went shopping.

                  When we returned there was a message on the answering machine from Hugh in the US, who is due back in the country in the next couple of weeks or so. He is doing well, especially now that Camp is over, although he probably isn't doing 'well' so much as doing 'drunk'.

                  From then on it was basically waiting to here whether dad was out of surgery or not. We were at least cheered by the fact that the surgery had gone ahead, as it meant the cancer hadn't broken out of its membrane and spread further.

                  Finally at about 4pm we found out that dad had reached ICU. Massive sigh of relief.

                  Mum went off to see him and Nellie and I waited, and waited, and then waited some more, until mum called us to say we could go in.

                  Nell and I rang Hugh to tell him the good news. Nell and I were dying to get to the hospital, but it took us a while to get Hugh off the phone. I look forward to seeing my next mobile bill...

                  At 6pm we were able to see dad. He looked great, just a bit pale, obviously tired, with more tubes than usual (well, none is 'usual' and this was definitely more than none) and lots of staples under his chin and down his neck. A little Frankenstein-esque, but with less green skin and a lack of bolts in the neck. Having seen pics of my uncle's staples I knew what to expect.

                  We didn't stay long. Dad still had a tube down his throat to breathe so was communicating with us by writing. It was funny as he was still putting serifs on his letters, even though he was tired and doped on morphine.

                  The three of us left the hospital and headed straight for the champagne. We even opened a bottle of Ricadonna once the nice tasting champers ran out but had to have slices of lemon in it because it was so sweet. Don't say anything Lan - Ricadonna is gross.

                  From there on the weekend was divided between visits to the hospital and visits with Lan and Nat and a beautifully pregnant Fitzy.

                  Megan gave birth yesterday to the first of the next generation in my family (yet another boy in the Stella household!) which is exciting. I must keep remembering that I don't want babies yet. Especially after Fitzy explained the four degrees of tears (tears as in rips, not tears as in crying) you can get when giving birth. Eww eww eww eww.

                  I flew back home yesterday at lunch time and was lucky enough to be stopped at security for the explosive test. Which came back positive. Yes, I was explosive girl.

                  Apparently the machine had found traces of a rare explosive found in artillery shells called HMX (or something like that). Hurrah. In the meantime the last call for my plane was made. The guy tested himself, then re-tested me and all was clear (not surprisingly). I was the last person on my plane - how embarrassment.

                  Simon met me at Spencer St Station and we jumped on the tram home. All the way home we listened to the schoolies who were sitting near us above how tough and well hard they all are. Such as "if I was there I woulda held down his arms and let you beat the shit out of him". Yes. I'm sure. One young chap was telling the girl across from him about the tat he was planning to get (I believe the phrase 'fully sick' may have been said at this point). I smiled most of the way home.

                  The dogs were soooo excited to see me and sounded a lot like gwee gwees (guinea pigs to the uninitiated).

                  It was nice to be back sleeping in my own bed again.

                  New job starts tomorrow - eek!!!! I'm more worried about driving there than I am about anything else. Desperately not wanting to be late on my first day!

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                    15 August 2006

                    I just don't get the football thing

                    When I told my mum we were moving to Melbourne she advised me that no one would talk to me unless I had a football team. Should not having a team worry me? Do I need to research and choose a team? Does one have to understand (or care about) football to barrack for a team?

                    Mum is of the view I should be going for Collingwood (I think I must live in a Collingwood supporting suburb, there are often scarf-sporting people, but I could well be entirely wrong), my Pop goes for Hawthorn, I think my grandmother goes for Carlton and my dad is too intelligent for the debate and keeps well out(I hope)! heh heh.

                    I was just standing in the yard when I heard the kids over the back having a discussion about who barracks for who.

                    Kid 1: So you used to go for Collingwood but now you go for Essendon?
                    Kid 2: Yeah.
                    Kid 3: (to Kid 1) Don't listen to him - that's a lie! (to Kid 2) You don't even have a beanie or a scarf or anything!
                    Kid 2: So what? I go for Essendon now!
                    Kid 3: No you don't!

                    I'm guessing Kid 1 was a visitor to the house who goes for Essendon, and that Kid 2 and Kid 3 are siblings (Kid 2 being the older as Kid 3 was doing that annoying thing younger siblings do with the whole 'telling the truth at all times to get your sibling into trouble'-thing). It was a very earnest conversation and very cute. You get the feeling that Kid 3 would later tell dad over the dinner table about what Kid 2 said. There would be tears and crying as their eldest child turns against his family. Severe disciplinary action would be enforced (such as the wearing of Magpie scarf and beanie for a week) and so on.

                    Thus far not having a team hasn't caused me any grief - they didn't ask me at my interview who I barracked for, so I managed to get a job without having to admit to this dreadful sin.

                    Perhaps I will not graduate as a Melbournian until I have a team?

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                      14 August 2006

                      Weekend Adventures

                      The ever lovely Lan came down for the weekend, arriving on Thursday night. It was a weekend filled with mini-adventures.

                      I may be admitting to the tameness (or perhaps lameness?) of my life as I divulge just what an 'adventure' entails, but suffice to say that doesn't matter cos I had fun and feel a sense of accomplishment!

                      Adventure 1:
                      I drove to the airport. Not a huge achievement, but I am always proud of myself when I drive somewhere in Melbourne that I've never driven to before (considering I had never driven in Melbourne pre moving here and don't really know where I'm going until I get there).

                      We got there a lot faster than I thought. I overestimated travel and parking time as I didn't want to be late. We were there about half an hour early, which was OK as it gave us time to have a hot chocolate and brave the security check point thingy (which husband always hates because the beeper always goes off or he gets picked for the explosive test thingy).

                      Once we had collected Lan in her new brown boots we made for the car park - $9 for parking! $9!! All up we were probably there about 40minutes. $9!!!! That was an adventure for my wallet.

                      Adventure 2:
                      Vanilla Vodka and Lemonade on return from the airport. This wasn't really an adventure, but Lan and I had fun. And it was yummy.

                      Adventure 3:
                      Shopping in Brunswick St. The adventure began with breakfast at the Green Grocer and was followed with me driving nose first into a park that I really should have reversed into. My stubbornness meant we had a scene a little like the million point turn scene in Austin Powers. But we got in there (with much giggling) and attacked the shops.

                      I bought two pairs of cute shoes for $30 each (one red and one black) and a pair of earrings (red, of course). Very very controlled.

                      We also went to T2 and bought some Vanilla Mint tea - so so yummy and fresh tasting. Delish!

                      Adventure 4:
                      Diana Ferrari Shoe Warehouse. Again, very very restrained - I bought one pair of knee high black boots for $60. Bargain.

                      It was here that I got the phone call of a job offer, so that added to the fun and meant I could feel good about buying more shoes as it was a celebration.

                      Adventure 5: (see how adventurous we were!)
                      Stolberg Beer Cafe (fancy way of saying 'clean pub'). Lan and I had had two pints by the time we decided to order food and husband joined us. Drunken phone calls with Alby and Sherdy were certainly a highlight. As was the talking far too loudly about inappropriate things in a public place.

                      Two more pints before we decided it was best to call it a night.

                      This was where the real adventure began. I will preface this with the fact that I was wearing my new knee high boots. Husband and Lan insisted we walk home. Ordinarily I would whinge for a while and then accept my fate - but not when I'm wearing new boots with heels and was quite drunk. This (I feel) gave me the right to whinge the whole way home.

                      The fact that I now have blisters on the balls of my feet simply proves that I was right.

                      Still, overall it was a fabulous night of fun-filled merriment, lots of laughing and breaking of seals. Good times had by all (except for the walking home part, but that was just me).

                      Adventure 6:
                      Hang over day. Not the best adventure, but certainly a relaxing one. Lan and I spent most of the day reading in the sporadic sunlight and knitting in front of the TV.

                      A quick trip to the mall to buy presents and bread boosted our morale and fed our insane urge to keep spending money when we really couldn't afford to.

                      Adventure 7:
                      Melbourne Museum. A long and very packed tram ride (stuck in a backwards seat to my travel sickness dismay) to the Melbourne Museum, where we enjoyed looking at naked people in the human body exhibition.

                      I had been to the museum once before, and felt that now they were going to be my new employers* I should go for another visit. It was worth the $6 we paid to get in, but I'm glad we didn't have to pay $14 (a la Questy).

                      Adventure 8: the final adventure
                      Beer Betanque National Grande Pricks. This is a world famous game that Lan and I invented. It basically consists of playing Bocce/Boules (which we call Betanque, technically spelt 'Petanque' but the B is better for alliteration) while drinking beer.

                      Wherever your stubby holder is from is the state you represent (hence making it the 'Nationals'). Husband was the QLD rep, Lan was ACT and I was VIC.

                      The best parts are that there is no scoring, that the dogs become obstacles and that you have to drink beer between each game.

                      Lan's gameplay earned herself the new name "Nudgy McLan".

                      The game was followed by Beer Can Bum Chicken - a specialty in our house - and postcard writing accompanied by Lemoncello.

                      I've just got back from dropping Lan off at the airport and am preparing for the daily Domestic Goddess duties (i.e. Queer Eye).

                      Thanks for the fun weekend Lan!


                      -------------
                      * Scienceworks is part of Museums Victoria.

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                        The End of the Domestic Goddess?

                        Yes, the end of my brilliant career as a Domestic Goddess is coming to a close. I have been offered a job and am due to start next Wednesday. I may have to shed a few tears on Tuesday evening in recognition of the end of this exciting period in my life.*

                        Things to be done before the Domestic Goddess relinquishes her powers (or at least minimises them, I have a feeling there will still be cleaning etc to be done):
                        1. Really really finish unpacking things in my 'Boudoir'.
                        2. Move the still packed boxes near the back door (I think they are all comics) into our quasi storage room next to the laundry. These are the boxes that are destined to not be looked at until we move again. In fact, some of them are in the same boxes from when we moved last time.
                        3. Stop picking lemons from our lemon trees. Even though it makes me feel like I'm a Botanical Goddess I really don't have anywhere to put them and have given away a few bags to relatives already. I also have two plastic bags of lemons in our deep freezer with which I plan to make lemon sorbet in my ice cream maker in Summer.
                        4. Find homes for all the crap I can't throw out but have no idea where to put.
                        5. Unpack some of the cardboard boxes in husband's studio. He loves when I meddle in his stuff.
                        6. Address my Queer Eye and Oprah addiction by watching it every day this week.
                        7. Sleep in - won't get much of a chance after next week.

                        I will also be mentally preparing myself to move into my next worldly manifestation - that of Office Goddess.


                        -------------
                        * These may or may not be tears of joy...

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                          10 August 2006

                          Cut hair? Yeah yeah.

                          Not to harp on about hair, but I actually faced my fears and went to a hairdresser. A hair dresser that wasn't Edge. A hairdresser I had never been to before.

                          They were all very nice and I had a nice chat to the mortgage broker who was sitting next to me. It is interesting the things people will tell you when you are both sitting there with foil all over your head - a situation otherwise only experienced by loonies who can hear the radio in their head.

                          I was there for hours, so it was just like being back at Edge, and there was even the risk of getting a parking ticket (ah, just like home). Although I didn't have to wait for ages before getting some attention and I really liked the colouring, so in two very important (and good) ways it was not like Edge at all!

                          As you can see in the piccie below I am sporting some red racing stripes - this in theory will make me go faster. Not faster to anywhere in particular, just generally faster.

                          It was very tricky to take the photo with my phone. I tried to take ones of the back but kept getting my shoulder or my ear instead.



                          Now, I must finish cleaning the house (always the Domestic Goddess) cos Lan flies in in a few hours - hurrah!

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                            07 August 2006

                            Fear of the Unknown (hairdresser)

                            My hair badly needs a cut. My fringe is getting too long and the rest has gone froophy. I'm way to scared to contemplate cutting it myself (even just a fringe trim would be nice) but I'm also too scared to go to an unknown hairdresser.

                            I had been going to Edge in O'Connor for 6 years. When I told my hairdresser I was breaking up with him to go to Melbourne he told me that's where hairdressers go who can't get jobs - like some secret place bad ones go to die or something.

                            Also I used to let my hairdresser just do what he thought best, I rarely had much input, and always liked my cuts.

                            What if I get a bad hair cut! What do I do? Where do I go!

                            I'm due in Canberra in a couple of weeks - can I hold out until then to go back to Edge? I feel like that is taking the easy way out and that now I'm all grown up living in a different city I should make the hard decisions.

                            Woe is me!

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                              04 August 2006

                              Americans Hate Breast Feeding

                              Dear, dear me. Husband sent me this article about outrage of showing a woman breast feeding on the cover of a baby magazine in America (this was because we had been discussing the puritanical nature of America, we are not having babies yet and it wasn't a hint that we should have babies or that breast feeding is good/bad m'kay). Yes, the photo was on a baby magazine. A magazine for mothers - the ones most likely to be breast feeding.

                              What is crazy about it is that the people who said it was "gross", were "shocked" or were "offended" by the picture were bloody women! And also mothers!!!! Gah! What is that about? It's not like you can even see any nipple!

                              I can't understand how a woman could say that seeing someone breast feed is "gross"! It makes you wonder how these women were brought up and what sort of world they live in now. When they breast feed do they just not look down? Do they do it hidden away so as not to shock or embarrass the men folk? I mean really. That is ridiculous.

                              Now I know I'm not a mother, but if I were breast feeding and anyone told me it was gross, they'd very soon be having to stick their toothbrush up their bum to brush their teeth.*


                              -----------------
                              * As my father would say. Admittedly he had to explain what he meant when I first heard it.

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                                03 August 2006

                                Rain, hail AND shine

                                When I woke up this morning it was raining. No big surprise there, I am in Melbourne.

                                By mid morning the clouds had gone and it was sunny. Now, I've begun to learn from recent experiences and so did not hang out any washing. This was a good thing as soon enough it was raining again - even though the sun was still out.

                                So I'm sitting on the couch quite smug in the knowledge that I had cleverly hung my washing inside over the clothes horse. Yes, yes, I'm very clever for remembering that it rains without warning here.

                                Somehow, within and hour I had forgotten this and decided to take the dogs for a walk, because it was nice and sunny and the rain was surely over. I was planning a nice long exploration walk, looking at other people's front yards and generally being nosy.

                                I wasn't even half way down the street before it started to drizzle a bit.

                                No problem - I can handle drizzle. It was bound to stop soon anyway. It did. It stopped drizzling and started raining.

                                Alrighty, we'll just walk around the block at a nice brisk pace. It'll stop raining soon anyway. It did. It stopped raining and started hailing.

                                I felt like a bit of a dick walking in the hail, and the dogs were starting to do the whole "Ewwww, I'm getting wet! My fur is gonna go all frizzy! Can't we just go into this house right here?" so I thought we'd better run home.

                                A few strides later I realised you can't hold your pants up as well as hold your sun glasses on your head AND hold two dogs. I'm pretty sure I was peddling some crack, and the dogs were tangled around my legs.

                                Thankfully by this point the hail had gone back to just hard old rain, so I pulled up my pants and we set a fast pace for home.

                                Now I'm inside in the warm, the dogs have dried themselves off on their bedding and the sun is bloody out again!

                                The weather here, more particularly the rain, reminds me of when I get the hiccups. Once I've got them I seem to get them over and over again throughout the day. So here's my theory:

                                Melbourne's diagphragm is out of synchronisation with its lungs.

                                Someone needs to give it a really big fright or make it drink a glass of water upside-down. That usually works for me.

                                Oh, it's raining again. At least I will never have to water the garden. And my grass is nice and green!

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                                  Mr Picasso Head

                                  Hurrah! I got the heater working! Now that my house is warm again, I can actually sit in front of the computer for more than 15mins.

                                  Something fun for the day - Mr Picasso Head. This is a fun little site. Make sure you check out the gallery as there are some awesome pics.

                                  Now to wash the dishes I've been avoiding doing because the house is too cold... maybe I should break the heater...

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                                    02 August 2006

                                    Time to share the love

                                    Sometimes, when I'm holed up in my little world of warm* watching TV, knitting, reading, drinking lots of tea, waiting for husband to come home so I can eat dinner, I forget that there is a world outside of Melbourne of people who are fabulous and who I love dearly. Then I get little reminders which usually set me off on some big memory fest.

                                    Examples are as follows:

                                    Pretty cards with pink iced heart shaped cookies on the front from Natnou promising to visit soon with multitudes of girlie movies.

                                    Phone calls from Alby at just the right time to let me tell her about how things are going, the good and the sad.

                                    Presents of guitar music from Lan with extremely Lan-esque cards to accompany them. Smartest chicken ever, worst spelling. I love you! Mail is good for the soul.

                                    Reading Sherdy's blog - I always laugh and it cheers me up, and I feel like she's just around the corner.

                                    Visits to the QKC Writeboard makes me feel like we are all in the same city still. You girls are fabulous.

                                    Long phone calls to a pregnant Fitzy where I laugh until I almost wet my pants.

                                    Phone calls from my mum - who is notorious for not talking on the phone.

                                    Emails and phone calls from my bruvva in the US - can't wait to see you.

                                    Courageous and honest emails from my dad with updates on his cancer treatment, which often I can't finish reading because I think I might cry. Daddy, you are so brave.

                                    Random SMS from my sister. Regular would be even better... (hint hint)

                                    Comments on my blog from Glen - I love that you read this and always have something funny to say!

                                    Emails from people at Q keeping me updated with all the goss. Bring it on!


                                    Hmm, this has turned into a very soppy post. Perhaps I am premenstrual? But it is nice to feel so loved by people who are all so far away. Also, I'm hoping that this will make more little reminders of love show up and make my sister call me, cos she has been slack on the sharing of the love. (^_^)


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                                    * Sometimes it is still cold as the central heating still seems to be on the fritz. But generally it is warm, I just have to get out the column heater and a quilt.