Yesterday, Beardie and I celebrated our anniversary. Because we are big, childish nerds, we did the following:

• Went to Underwater World
• Went to a Ginger Factory

Yeah!

Underwater World is pretty similar to how it was the last time I was there (15 years ago). I was still too scared to touch any of the slimy things in the hands-on tank and still very confused by the private parts of rays and sharks. It was pretty darn cool.

I have an unhealthy obsession with ginger. Sometimes people become obsessed with ginger, when they're elderly and wear cardigans all the time. I am 25 and I want to marry ginger. While I'm at it, I also love cardigans. I ran around the ginger shop like it was Willy Wonka's ginger factory, waving my arms and leaving a trail of drool. Damn this healthy eating bullshit; I could only leave with some ginger bears and a solitary gingerbread man. But they have an online shop, and I will be back. Oh yes.


In brief:

• I emptied my entire savings account today, to pay for the car. My tiny bank balance makes me sad.
• Only a week and a half of my fitness thing left! I will do a full wrap-up next week, but it's been a pretty interesting run (and for reasons I cannot fathom, pretty darn successful).
• I bought some new glasses and prescription sunglasses today. Because apparently I am not content leaving any money in my account, at all. But these things must be done as I progressively become more decrepit and blind.

Adios!

Life update:

Two weeks into the ten-week fitness thingo and my Bangkok bulge has pretty much gone. Hoorah! I expect that the sudden shock of going from HUGE meals and an abundance of ice cream to my usual stressed self who runs around and forgets to eat has done the trick. Now to work on my Chrimbo gut for the remaining eight weeks, which I am thinking won't be as easy. I've started taking tennis lessons (despite being incredibly uncoordinated) and have had my arse kicked at the gym a few times, too. I am even being careful with what I eat and resisting the temptation to jam chocolate in my mouth when my energy is feeling low, or when people piss me off. "Just eight weeks to go" is my internal mantra as I eye off the blocks of white chocolate Kit Kat in the supermarket.

Meanwhile, Beardie has decided he also wants to lose some weight, and has started the Tony "Creepy" Ferguson diet like the big cheater that he is.



Would you trust this man?

I am powering through books at the moment, and have actually started reading on the bus again after a long stint of listening to music and staring wistfully out the window. I have just started Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer, which has made me laugh out loud several times so far and therefore I love it, and just finished reading Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami. If you have read this book, can you please explain what the frick the end of it means, because I was confused as hell. I think I was distracted by the drawn-out beginning and wasn't expecting it to turn all crazy.

Today I have had a productive day off, as I have had my car serviced and been to visit my mum for lunch. In today's episode of The Sordid Lives of the Mountain Dwellers!!!!:

[In David Jones, my mother, brother and I walk around the menswear section, looking for t-shirts for my brother.]

Mum: A lot of the clothes here are very gay, aren't they.
Me: MUM.
Mum: Well they are. [Mum checks the price on a shirt nearby, splutters loudly]
Me: Hmm?
Mum: THIS SHIRT IS $60 [several DJ staff glance in our direction]
Me: [ushering Mum away] they've got a mix here, some expensive clothes and some cheaper clothes too.
Mum: Hmph.

[a moment passes]

Mum: Our nextdoor neighbour's house was struck by lightning during the storm the other day. All of his chickens died.
Me: Oh, really?
Mum: Mm.

Never a dull moment. I am off to re-learn how to drive a manual car so that I can eventually upgrade from my Little Green Shitbox. I am going to count how many times I stall it, and crunch the gears. I expect it will be many.

Travel, etc.

Ailments, injuries, etc.: A torn fingernail from whitewater rafting (it has turned half my nail a lovely purply-brown colour), several hundred mosquito bites, and Beardie has only just recovered from a bad case of [insert town]-belly, which has seen him up most of the night, clutching his stomach and moaning. And, of course, making the toilet his friend. Our best guess at the culprit is a strange sausage-contained-in-a-waffle (on a stick) from a street vendor at Doi Suthep. Strange combos like this can only be bad news.

Stress, worry, etc.: No holiday would be complete without the obligatory thoughts of work and the associated bullshit. Having applied for two jobs directly before leaving for Thailand, I have heard nothing back at all, so of course my mind is full of what-if's and oh-no's and hmm-maybe's. If anyone knows how to turn my stupid brain off, please let me know.

Causing offence, etc.: At the temple at Doi Suthep, Beardie and I removed our shoes, as is required in these places. As we were leaving, we walked back to our shoes, and a monk was standing directly next to them. I had placed the shoes behind a pillar, and as monks aren't allowed to really come into any kind of contact with girls at all, I stretched my foot out and deftly picked up the shoes with my nimble toes. That is, I pointed my foot directly at the monk. Beardie hurriedly pulled me aside and pointed out my grave insult afterwards. So, I can only guess that I am most likely going to suffer eternal damnation (or the Buddhist equivalent. Reincarnation as something incredibly shitty?). The monk walked off looking quite disgusted. Would this holiday be complete if I didn't cause extreme offence to people? Sigh.

Travel bug, etc.: In between being offered ping pong shows, endless tuk tuk rides and tailored suits, and sweating like a pig, I appear to have been bitten by the travel bug again, well and truly. I am already excitedly talking about where I want to go next, and that we have to start planning as soon as we get home so that we have something to look forward to, etc. These itchy feet are going to be very bloody expensive.

So while I was thinking that three weeks would not be enough time, I am beginning to feel like this is the longest holiday ever (and is therefore awesome). I guess work makes time fly by at a ridiculous rate, and spending your days wandering, taking photos and recording dodgy footage is a luxury I'm not used to. We have arrived in Phuket and we are mid-way through exploring. Tomorrow, we are gibbon-spotting and on Monday we are off boating, to have our very own Leonardo moment. But with a lot more tourists.

Lovely!

I am lazy. La-la-lazy. Take me away from work and put me at home with no plans whatsoever, and watch me turn into a gluttonous procrastinator who takes frequent naps. I have made a mental list of all the things I should really do over this Christmas break, and my plan of attack so far has been to lay on the couch a lot, and play Fable II until my eyes are so bloodshot that I look like I celebrated Christmas by smoking a small mountain of pot.

In fact, right now I am currently experiencing a high of the most energy I have had so far these holidays, and rather than cleaning up this sty of a house, or planning next year's trip away, I'm putting it to good use on this here blog, before I go out to gorge myself on Thai food.

Cirque du Soleil: Last night, Beardie and I went out to see hundreds of circus freaks prance about on stage, and it was absolutely awesome. Beardie had splurged and bought VIP tickets, which meant that we ended up in a la-de-da tent with other similarly posh people, drinking free booze (FREE, NEVER ENDING BOOZE) and snacking on hors d'oeuvres (and one day, I hope to be able to spell that without looking it up). My favourite was super bendy girl (total freak of nature) and the boys who jump through small hoops. Hoorah!

And now for a full, feature-length episode of The Sordid Lives of the Mountain Dwellers!!!!!: On Boxing Day, Beardie and I traipsed out into woop-woop to go and see mumsy and bro for some merry Christmas cheer. We stopped at the local country pub (the kind of place where the bearded locals put down their beers and stare at you when you arrive) for a bite to eat.

Mum: Pineapple juice! Do you know what it has in it?
Me: [shakes head]
Mum: MAGNESIUM! And hardly anything has magnesium in it these days. Oh and the neighbour's ducks are at my front door every morning now. One of them was shot by our other neighbour and then lay there in the sun for hours, its blood congealing...
Me: [spluttering] Mum!
Mum: [laughs] Oh sorry. So, Beardie, since the last time I saw you, you look... how do you say it.. fuller?
Me: [chokes] MUM!
Mum: Oh, I don't mean it as an insult. You were too thin the last time I saw you. Now you're average. [to my brother] Tsk, you're drinking Coke. It doesn't even tell you that it has aspartame in it, you know. Oh, it's not diet. Well it doesn't even tell you it has six teaspoons of sugar in it, you know.
Bro: [guzzles drink, making Mmmm noises]

Christmas cheer: for the first time that I can remember, I have visibly gained weight over Christmas. I am normally not that much of an overindulger, but this year my gut is noticeably bigger, and I don't like it one bit. Unfortunately, the whole house is so jam-packed with chocolate, jelly beans, and leftover candy canes, that my chances of making any difference are not that crash hot. But I have decided to at least try and go to the gym next week, to try and pilates my gut away. We shall see.

I hope your Christmas has been very merry indeed.

Friday, glorious Friday. Plans for the weekend:

• Piano lesson tomorrow morning (and I can play the fast staccato-ey bit of Für Elise with almost no mistakes, so I expect my teacher to congratulate me as if I am a toddler who just did my first wee in the grown-up toilet, or I'll be upset).
• Christmas carols tomorrow night, via the television. I missed going to the real-live carols (the perils of late-afternoon napping) so I am going to sit on the couch, air conditioner puffing away, and get boozed while I sing at the top of my lungs. Beardie's participation in this ear-bleeding punishment is doubtful.
• Avoidance of all shops, and of going outside in general. Due to the major case of the crazies that has struck everyone in this pre-Christmas madness. So yes, crazy people, and also I hatehatehate it when people stalk me for my car park.
• Finish off the pack of Fantales on my desk.
• Ah, shit! I have just realised that I have to go out this weekend, because I need to buy rum balls and candy canes and various other edible things to give to people at work. Bugger.
• Contemplating how I managed to land the dodgiest Secret Santa present in the history of dodgy presents. I spent hours hunting through shops to buy something ideal for my person, and I am repaid with a plastic toy which is supposed to shoot bubbles, but doesn't really work properly. Yes, I shouldn't be ungrateful, but I think that whoever had me must've had about $8 change left out of the $10 budget after buying my gift. Or they found it in a gutter somewhere. Perhaps saying these things makes me a horrible person, but I can only keep The Happy-Lovelies going for so long at work before The Whinge starts spewing out, via blog or all over Beardie.
• Thinking of what else I can buy Beardie for Christmas. I am completely stumped. Under the tree, there's currently three more gifts for me than there is for him, and I can't handle it. I am considering wrapping up household items like the kettle, or the toaster, just to bulk up numbers. Normally I am quite good at this stuff, but this year I suck.
  

And I hope your weekend is very lovely indeed.

Some ponderings, on this marvellous day off:

• After passing a hazard perception test on the weekend (which was quite miraculous, considering that in one of the test videos I murdered a few pedestrians), I have been considered eligible to upgrade to my open licence. Which is what I just did. I will no longer receive the looks of suspicion and derision that followed my p-plates wherever they went. I can now get away with changing lanes without indicating, swerving into other lanes every time there is a bend in the road [INSERT RANT ABOUT OTHER DRIVERS HERE] etc.
  
  This has me thinking that managing to spend a year driving solo, without crashing into anything or anyone, might mean that I have had a sufficient amount of practice to upgrade my car to something better than the crumply green shitbox I am driving at the moment. And with this thought comes a sudden pang of sadness, because it turns out I have grown quite fond of the shitbox, despite these facts:
  
  
  • following a head-on collision involving the previous owner, the panel beater has not aligned the engine correctly when repairing, resulting in headlights which point to the floor and the kind of creaks and groans that make me suspect that one day the engine will just fall out onto the road while I'm driving.
    
  • brakes which squeal like a banshee.
  • a missing badge on the front, so my car looks like it is a no-name brand.
  • a radiator cap which I only managed to take off last weekend, for the first time in a year. Due to the engine alignment problem. Miraculously, it didn't need a top-up.
  • a God-awful smell which permeates the house after every time it is driven. Like normal car smell, mixed with a burning heap of tyres.
  
  So, well, maybe I might keep it for a little bit longer yet.
  
  
• At a super mental Myer shopping event last night, I bought the best underpants ever. They are blue, with red bits, and a red bow, and they are a bit frilly, and awesome. Flinging them around the house last night in the joyous rapture which can only follow the purchase of new underpants, I tried to express my excitement to Beardie.
  
  Me: [squealing] Look! Look, look!!!
  Beardie: Why did you buy kids underpants?
  Me: [head explodes] They're NOT kids underpants!!1!@
  Beardie: They look like kids underpants.
  Me: THEY ARE AWESOME.
  Beardie: Um. Ok.
  
  I mean, I would be excited for him if HE bought the best underpants ever. Boys just don't get it.
  
  
• Piano lesson number two is tonight. I appear to suck as much as I did last week, but I am hoping that this progress that everyone speaks of will start to kick in soon. If I spent more time practising today, and less time searching for random videos on YouTube, it could possibly help. Possibly.
  

• In yet further proof that I am shit at being a girl, I had a few minutes to kill before going out for drinks the other night and decided to curl my eyelashes, because that's what girls do, apparently. While the contraption was clamped over my eye-hairs, I had a massive eye spasm, uncontrollably yanked my head and then looked at the eyelash curler, to discover I had RIPPED OUT a huge chunk of my eyelashes. Yes, I have a full-on bald spot now. An eyelash bald spot. WHAT.

• I am completely obsessed with gingernut biscuits. They are heavenly, and I could happily marry one right now.
  
  
• Lately, I am feeling all musical. I go through phases in my life, for example, I can tell that I am just about to go through a fitness phase, where I decide I am porky and start running every day, only to give it up within a few weeks. This is how I work. And now I am hitting the music phase, where I start playing the guitar every day and wailing like a feral cat and dreaming of discovering this incredible talent which MUST be lurking in there somewhere. So, right now my fingers hurt. From the guitar playing. But I'm sure I'll slack off soon.
  
  
• It's only three and a half weeks before we take our mini-holiday which was supposed to be Thailand but isn't! I have even dug out a swimsuit which I bought a long time ago, back when I had convinced myself that I had a chance of becoming one of those carefree beach girls (and obviously forgetting that I can cause blindness with my pasty white skin). Yet I am a little scared of leaving work and having to come back to whatever has changed over a five day absence. Which is bloody sad, really.
  
  
• Beardie blogs now. This is his therapy.
  
  
• Beardie also surprised me with Cirque du Soleil tickets for December, whoo! And we are even going VIP, where they offer a "coat check service" and "private restrooms". Instead of a communal pissing trough, or something. I asked what would happen if I used the coat check service to hand in a hoodie smelling like cheezels, and apparently that wouldn't go down well. I am unsure if I am VIP material. But I will get to see contortionists and various other freaks all up close and personal, ooh!
  

And that's me done.

Busy!

• Thailand is postponed until February, at the earliest. And not because of any whacky anti-government demonstrations, but because Beardie tried to put in his leave and was told that it was a No Go. Devo! So we are having a mini-break, most likely to The Whitsundays, and Thailand shall come later. Which is better than it not happening at all, but still. Sniff.
  
  
• In a couple of weeks I am meeting up with the friend I mentioned in this post, to, you know. Catch up, and talk. And stuff. Thoughts = don't know. We will just see what happens. Mmkay.
  
  
• This weekend, Beardie's parents have been visiting, and we introduced them to the yum cha experience. We took them to Sunnybank yum cha, which is basically total mayhem. You arrive, take a ticket, and don't expect a table for another 45 minutes, at least. We thought our number was called ("TWO!") and we followed the lady to a table. The manager-type person hurried over and said "oh no, not TWO, I called SHOO. A reservation for the big fat lady and her friends." Yes, that's right, the head honcho of yum cha referred to a patron as "the big fat lady." Now those are some fantastic customer service skills which I am going to adopt at work immediately.
  

• Also during this visit:
  
  
  • Beardie's dad went through the files on both PC's in the house searching for movies/various other media that he could copy over to his hard drive and take back to Tasmania. This was all good until he stumbled upon a substantial amount of porn. Oops!
    
    
  • Beardie's mum greeted me, and referred to me by his ex's name. Oops again! I didn't hear it at the time, but when Beardie told me later I said "I don't mind that your mum did it... now if YOU did it, on the other hand..." and then I dished out a handful of scrotum-damaging threats.
    
    
• I am completely bored of reading shitty books. Why are so many books so very crappy? What happened to the books that you can't put down? I don't know where they are. I picked up a pamphlet from Borders called "50 books that you can't put down" (or something similar) but I suspect it is full of lies. Lies and deceit! If throwing them out a window does not count as putting them down, then yes, 100% correct.

Etc.

Once upon a time, Beardie and I went to the Great Land of Ikea. We went in to buy some cutlery, and walked out with some pillows, some glasses, various other random crap, a $2 breakfast in our bellies, and a stuffed rat and beaver.

We named the stuffed rat "Ratto" and the stuffed beaver "Beavo", because we are full of glorious imagination.

Some time passed, and it became evident that Beardie had a problem with Beavo. Their encounters would normally involve Beavo being punched in his soft plush beaver face, hurled across the room or sat/farted on.

I thought that this irrational hatred towards an inanimate object was hi-larious, and started purposely putting Beavo in Beardie's path, wherever he would go. This means that when Beardie would pull down the bed covers at night, Beavo would be there waiting. Every. Single. Night.

At first Beavo would just be thrown or punched, but sometimes I would find him under the back tyre of my car, and sometimes with his head stuck in the blender, and sometimes with his head stuck in the oven, awaiting his demise. It was all fun and games, but then last night Beardie cracked, and now Beavo is no more.


RIP Beavo. You were soft and cuddly and delightful, with truly terrible teeth.

Yes. Eventful weekend, etc.

General business:

• Everyone is sick! Work is sick, home is sick, random strangers are sick. There is coughing and spluttering galore, and yet I remain unscathed. How is this possible? That's right, it's not possible, because I'm just not that freaking lucky. So I give it until Saturday morning before I wake up in a pool of my own snot, and will therefore spend my two free days feverish and sniffly, before miraculously recovering on Monday morning, just in time to go back to work.
  
  
• Work is killing me. There is overtime EVERY NIGHT. I was being generous at first, but now I am just making myself unavailable. "Think of the cash!" they say, and yes, the overtime cash is lovely, but is it really worth the destruction of my soul?
  
  
• My piano playing is going super well, and by that I mean that I can play Good King Wenceslas and When The Saints Go Marching In. A friend at work is giving me his sheet music for Cornflake Girl, and soon I will be able to play like Tori. Soon! (estimated time: twenty years)
  
  
• This Saturday, Beardie and I are attending a birthday dinner, As A Couple. Besides last year's Christmas party, where everyone was blotto and I was all burning white rage from some drunken cow spilling wine all over my dress, this will be our first Couple Outing, despite going out for A While. And I can't fall into my 'sit in the corner and guzzle beer' comfort zone, because it is a dinner. A dinner where people sit around and discuss things. How will I cope? Do I have to act like a grown-up? I am afraid.
  

• I do not really want to mention the Lady Business from yesterday. Suffice it to say, it was about as pleasant as getting naked and rolling around in hot coals, and I never ever want to go back there ever ever again. Ever never ever. I suggested to Beardie that maybe at some point over the next two years I should become a prostitute, because then I'll become desensitized and won't give a rats who checks out my business. I'm not sure that he would be overly happy with this, but it definitely warrants some thought.
• Going with the theme of watching movies to completely put me off my holiday plans, last night we watched a delightful movie called Return to Paradise. Not quite Thailand, but close enough, and the lesson I have learnt is that if I am thrown in prison and the media catch hold of it, then there's the chance that they'll hang me, just to make an example of me. Even if Vince Vaughn does try and save me. So hooray for that. I am going to Blockbuster to ask if there's a movie called I Went To Thailand And Had A Super Fun Time And Didn't Go To Jail Or Die.
• Just when you thought that it was impossible for me to become a bigger nerd than I already am, I have signed up to play World of Warcraft. And by "signed up", I mean I am playing a free 10-day trial, because 1. it is free, and 2. I said I would give it a try because Beardie loves it and wants to have 10000 of its babies. Observations so far:
• When people call you a "noob", they do not mean "oh, you're new? How cute!" They mean "U R LAME I H8 U."
• It is entirely possible for your whole day to disappear and for you to realise that you have achieved diddly squat.
• It is entirely possible for your RSI to become about 12 times worse in the space of a few hours.
• I think that 95% of the WoW population must be around the age of 12, going by the conversations (u r gay) and the many attempts made to Pick Up the laydeez. Except is it a laydee, or is it not? Who can tell!
• It is all good fun, but I suspect that maybe it is not for me. We shall see.
  

Yesterday, I was incredibly moody. Whether the moons of Saturn were waxing gibbous and freaking with my chi, or if it was The Almighty Hormones, I do not know, but I was just ridiculous. We had planned to go out for breakfast and were aiming for 9am. At 8:45, facing the prospect of Not Leaving On Time, I started accusing Beardie of killing hungry puppies, or something along those lines. On a Sunday! Later that day, when I tried on an unflattering dress which was very hessian sacky, Beardie gave me his honest opinion and told me that it looked like a potato sack. To which I accused him of being Hitler in his former life and of ripping out my heart, trampling it underfoot, and ruining my life in general. The poor boy.

These are all gross exaggerations. OR ARE THEY????!!11?

But you get the picture.

Today I am fine!

On the matter of my health:

• In a couple of weeks, my Doctor will get some cold instruments and start fiddling around with my lady parts. This will be so he can determine the health of my cervix. Hoorah! It will be my first ever Pappy-McPapSmear, and quite frankly, I would rather spend that hard-earned day off on the couch with some cake.
• Beardie and I have just arrived home from a Brisk Walk. This is fitness attempt, #337. I am depressed that of the many times I have tried to get my arse into gear and increase my fitness level to something better than geriatric, I have quit 100% of the time. But sometimes not for many months! Let's see how this goes, and hopefully I will shape up and start posting pictures of my arse in hotpants on the interweb.
• A cable arrived for my camera, which means I can plug it into my computer and the vlogging will (may) commence shortly. I have included this under the health topic, because it will be bad for YOUR health, when I subject you to crap jokes and perhaps some Very Shit Guitar.

Now lunge with me.

There was one other development over the past 12 months which I really should have mentioned. After I left my ex, I took refuge at my best friend's place, where I stayed up until I moved out last month. The thing is, that 12 month period completely ruined our friendship. I am unsure if I will ever work out the underlying reason behind it, but it went from us hanging out, to me feeling that things were a little bit funny, to me feeling unwelcome and suddenly bottling up all of my feelings, instead of us sharing everything like we used to.

It sucked. Balls.

When I left, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. This was shortlived, of course, and soon I just became plain sad. Sad saddy sad sad. People grow apart, and this is sometimes for the best, but here is my best friend since we were 13 years old, and hey, now we don't talk anymore.

Today is her birthday. I sent a Happy Birthday sms.

Yes. Balls.

I have an inappropriate nose. It is inappropriate because I had a cold last week, and as a result of this I have a Suddenly Runny Nose every now and then, where I will be quite content and all of a sudden OH SHIT shitty shit I need a tissue RIGHT NOW. This happens when I am on the bus on the way to work, in the middle of the night (it wakes me up), and last night it happened whilst trying to engage in an intimate moment with Beardie. Nothing says SEXY BITCH like dripping snot on somebody, don't you think?

I am so mopey.

Here is the spiel.

• Last relationship: ended badly. Very badly. Very super badly. This is what happens when you go out with somebody for two years when all of your inner bits keep telling you not to, and you ignore them, like the stubborn bitch that you are. But hey, these are my lessons, look how much I have learnt, etc.
• Foolishly, foolishly started going out with a boy Very Very Soon after the break-up. You see, because my last few months with the ex had been pretty much void of any happyfuntime, I thought I would do what lots of young, single girls in their twenties do, and find myself some happyfuntime. But then I discovered that he was actually quite smashing, and my efforts to be an absolute slut have once again been unsuccessful. Damn!
• I decided that not having my licence was altogether shit. So I went out and got it. And then I bought an old bomb of a car which has a squealy fan belt and a crumply number plate from where it smashed into another car, once upon a time. And I started driving it around all over the place and endangering innocent motorists and pedestrians with my P-plated enthusiasm. Though I am yet to crash into anyone or anything, so HIGH FIVE.
  
  (And hoo-freaking-rah for never having to get public transport on Christmas Day AGAIN.)
• I applied for, and was successful in gaining, a higher-paid position at work. Twice! And the lovely cash made me very, very happy, but what made me happier was that I hardly ever had to talk to twats on the phone! Joy! I have said for a while that this will be the last customer service-based job that I ever do, and I am one step closer to living the dream. Unfortunately, I still have to talk to twats at work, and I probably have several thousand pages full of blog fodder just in the agency temps who are constantly flowing through my workplace. Sigh.
• After going out for just under a year, Beardie (yes, Beardie) and I decided to co-habitate. This happened last month. And now I'm sharing all my stuff with A BOY. Ewwww.
• I missed blogging, and then I sort of forgot about blogging, and then I realised that I had no hobbies and decided to start blogging again. I am trying to get back into the blog frame of mind, where you can't help but look at any situation without thinking "I wonder if I could blog this?" Maybe I need to buy a shirt to remind me.

And there we have the entire last year of my life summarised by six dot points. How freaking depressing. And now that's out the way, let's move onto something far more exciting.

Give me a minute. I'll think of something.