X-File 1. There was a mysterious yellow stain on the lounge carpet when I came home from work today. (I don’t know why I’m talking in the past tense; it’s still there, just covered with baking soda so I don’t have to think about it.) I don’t know which animal produced it, nor out of which end it came.
X-File 2. It was over 30 degrees today, yet while sitting at my desk at work, I had to wear a jacket around my shoulders like an old person. WHY is the airconditioning controlled through roof temperature gauges? It makes me (and my similarly-attired cubicle mate, aka my boss) very sad. Also, stupid-looking.
X-File 3. I carefully scoured eBay for my little 12″‘ laptop, at just the right price. And yet now, not six months later, I have paid half its purchase price again to obtain RAM, precious RAM. Now I can swap between email and Firefox WITHIN ONE SECOND. This is a magical and delightful experience. However, expensive. When did my Spidey sense desert me?
X-File 4. I don’t like rice cracker snacks. I DON’T. But I can’t stop eating them. Worse, I can’t stop buying them then eating them. I only like the hot ones, but I can’t figure out what colour they are and I have to eat them all, by the handful. I should just buy wasabi peas instead.
The only problem with mucking around with the camera, is that the dogs come racing over to see what you’re doing. Dogs, I am TRYING to take photos of the sky at strange angles. I do not WANT you lying all over me. God.
This is the Brown Dog. He has an idiotic look on his face, as the Black Dog is just about to throw himself upon me from the other side. The cat is around somewhere as well. And yes, they also all want come into the bathroom to watch you go to the toilet. People = FASCINATING.
Ah, a shiny new template for the new year. Like new clothes. Of which I have none. (New clothes, not clothes. I have clothes. I’m wearing some now, in fact.)
It’s summer here, and the time is right for dancing in the streets. (I don’t know what’s WRONG with me at the moment; I can’t stop singing bad song lyrics to myself. Our email server was playing silly buggers at work last week and so my co-worker yelled across the cubicle farm, “Send me an email!” Something about the cadence made me immediately think of “Send me an Angel”, so I sang, “Right now … right now-ow-ow!” back across the office until I realised my El Retardo level had increased exponentially.) (Note to anyone under 20: you will not recognise this song. I am sorry for wasting your time. Also, LOL!)
I believe somewhere up there (beneath the pale moonlight …. it’s an AFFLICTION, I need help, not ridicule) I was about to talk about summer and the welcome wave of good weather. A good friend of mine has moved into a little place on Marine Parade, which is opposite Elwood/St Kilda beach … needless to say, she is now a VERY good friend and I feel compelled to see her often. I was there on the weekend and we drank some G&Ts and took a relaxed stroll along the beach and through the shallows (water = COLD. Bah.) Although? When it’s 37 degrees and hotter than Satan’s armpit? The rollerbladers, they are still out exerting themselves. I fully expected to see one or two collapsed on the bike path from heat exhaustion, legs splayed in the air with rollerblade wheels spinning aimlessly. In fact, truth be told, I was quite looking forward to it. However, no rollerbladers were harmed in the making of this blog entry. I’m as disappointed as you are.
Join Jac, Shine and Sam as we travel into the city on New Years Eve, with the dual purpose of a) watching the fireworks and bands at Federation Square, and b) drinking at Young and Jackson’s, the pub across the street.
Number of other people in Melbourne with this exact same plan: 10,000.
Number of trams travelled on to reach city: 1
Number of trams vomited in by anonymous reveller: 1
Number of times Sam requested to leave tram due to presence of spew: 800
Number of police herding people away from overcrowded Federation Square: 20
Number of police ignored: 20
Number of bottles of alcohol snuck past non-alcohol line: 1 (giant)
Number of balloons received from drunken boys: 12
Number of balloons popped by Shine which belonged to Jac and Sam: 3
Number of balloons popped by Shine which belonged to Shine: 1, mistakenly
Number of balloons sucked of helium to talk in squeaky voice: 1
Number of minutes taken to reach ‘overcrowded’ Federation Square: 4
Number of people in Federation Square: 1 billion
Number of people Federation Square was overcrowded by: 0
Number of fireworks: many
Number of people text-messaging instead of watching the fireworks: dozens
Number of bouncers shamelessly flattered to try to get past the post-midnight lines at Young and Jackson’s: 4
Number of bouncers who let us through due to flattery: 0
Number of bouncers who let us through due to reaching the front of the line: 1
Number of drinks consumed in Young and Jackson’s: hazy
Number of drinks returned to the bar to demand more alcohol be added: 3
Number of new alcohol-containing drinks received: 3 (miracle!)
Number of trams required to get home: 1
Number of times during the short walk from tram stop to home that Shine voiced her need to go to the toilet: 4000
Number of times Shine used a quiet tone: 0
Number of newspapers stolen from piles outside milk bars: 1
Number of newspapers read: 0
Number of newspapers thrown violently into air: 1
Number of successful New Years: 1
I return from my tiny Christmas/New Years break, all refreshed and revitalised. No? No. Sigh.
Regardless, posting shall resume. Habits shall become habits once again. It might be more worthwhile to begin those habits of highly effective people; but that doesn’t sound like fun. Sounds like work. Bah! Play on internet instead.
Shogun, James Clavell
Oceans Twelve soundtrack
Kite surfers at St Kilda
Byron Bay Chilli salsa
My sudden need for green cordial. Am I reverting to childhood? (Actually, I was never allowed cordial as a child. And LOOK HOW I TURNED OUT. Let this be a lesson to all of you.)