So, the blogging itch is starting to niggle away at me, yet again. I know that I'm starting to head down the same path when I find myself with random urges to write things down, and the fact that I've just bought a notebook to carry around with me is a perfect example. However, I'm yet to write anything in fear of somebody finding it, pointing and laughing at my emo poetry, or whatever I've decided to commit to paper. Plus, I can type approximately 3000 times faster than I can write, so I find myself here, yet again.

I have been dealing with all sorts of philosophical bullshit of late, the "what am I doing with my life", "why am I on this planet", "am I better off becoming a hobo than sitting in this job for the next 20 years" thoughts that generally plague the 20-something. i.e. The Usual. I am reading deep, dark and scary books and considering spending my free time in a cafe, wearing a black turtleneck and a beret and loudly declaring my thoughts on Nietzsche to a bunch of people who click instead of clap. That's what they do in the movies, right?

I am wondering if I will ever feel like it's ok to Settle, and be content with my mediocre life, and Have Kids, and all of the stuff that I'm supposed to do now that I'm an adult but really don't feel like I am, and may never be, ready for it.

And you thought I was kidding about the emo poetry, didn't you?

So I might start up another blog some place to spew and belch vitriol all over the internet, as it's been a while. Or maybe I won't, if I continue to be a lazy git.

In bright and sunny news:

• Things with the new chap are going swimmingly! Sunshine and rainbows and all of that.
• I am going to Melbourne for my birthday later this month, and it will be tip-top.
• It's only two months until I go overseas on the very long world-wide holiday, and right now I'm about 5% excited and 95% freaking out that I won't have enough cash. However, I have mad cash-saving skillz, so I am hoping that all will be ok. If not, those hobo dreams may be fulfilled involuntarily.
• I am completing a ridiculously nerdy training course for work at the moment, and it hurts my brain.
  

And, well. That's about it.

What a week. What an unproductive week. I was really looking forward to having the last week off and to be honest, it's been great, but I feel completely out of it. And the thought of starting this job tomorrow is starting to kick in and I find that I am shitting myself, slightly.

On Friday night I caught up with my team and other work folk for drinks etc. It was fun, but I find that I already feel incredibly detached from them. Their new Team Leader is a great girl, really personable (and not an enormous social misfit like me) and has settled in like she's been there all her life. Which is fantastic, good for her and good for everyone else, too. I'm glad the job is in capable hands. But letting go of the good people there is a little bit sad. Though I'm going to be seeing them at drinks and social thingies anyway, so all good, yes?

Sigh. I have spent a lot of time inside my head of late. Not just work, but everything. My mind is very cluttered.

I think I'm just wondering what kind of mistakes I'm making.

Also.

Woah! What's with this post? Sunshine and rainbows!

Sidenotes:

• I have the worst potty mouth ever when drunk.
• I have a lot of black spots from Friday night.
• There's only one week until Bridge to Brisbane. I predict that I will die. I'll make sure I post one last time before I go.
• Beardie bought me a Dwight Schrute bobblehead.
  

• And Chamberlain skekSil.

• I am going to put them on my new desk alongside Baird from Gears of War. And they can all have a tea party.
• I might go out today and buy some sports bras.

I hope your weekend has been fine and dandy.

Bleurgh. What a weekend!

Grade 7 Poetry:

Ode to a Little Green Shitbox

With your crumply front plate
And your unroadworthy state
I was ripped off when I bought you

But your smells and your squeals
And your crooked front wheels
Meant that slowly, I came to adore you

Then I bought a new car
Which was better, by far
For economics, I had to sell you

I put you up on Carsales
Excluding some minor details
Within a day it was time to farewell you

Now I see and hear you around
(I know your unique clicking sound)
And your new ginger owner dotes on you

And while I am cashed up and glad
My heart feels a bit sad
For my Little Green Shitbox; I loved you

Sniff.

And briefly:

• I turned 26 on Wednesday. Beardie and I both had the day off work and went shopping, followed by a big mother of a steak. I am all about the steak lately. 26 seems to be going ok. I am in my late twenties. Apparently I am lover of steak in my late twenties. All is well.

• I organised a night of bowling for my team on Friday night, which was super fun, though every time I stay out for drinks with work people I regret it. I mostly regret all the shit that I spout which is really not making that great an impression when you have to go back to work and be in charge of these people. BUT THEN, I also went out last night for an engagement party. Plus, we had an enormous dinner beforehand (including a rocky road sundae, which we completely inhaled in seconds, much to the disgust of the other patrons and amazement of the waitress). So basically I am feeling seedy and porky today and as a result am going to detox this week.

• There's some whispers on the job front that could see me putting in an application for the department that brutally rejected me the last time. The only difference between now and then is that next month I am going on an awesome training course which will actually give me some of the skills that they were asking for the last time I applied. They are only rumours at this stage, but I still get a little excited skippety-skip in my tummy.

What's the best thing to do when you are seedy and porky? Clean the house from top to bottom for an inspection this week. Fricking awesome. Hope you've had a good weekend, lovely people.

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!

1.

Today is my mummy's birthday. Happy birthday, Mum (who doesn't know this blog exists)! As I have this week off work (hallelujah!), Mumsy, my brother and I have been lunching and gift giving and the like. In today's episode of The Sordid Lives of the Mountain Dwellers!!!1!:

Mum: So the neighbours disappeared in the middle of the night!
Me: Really?
Mum: Yes! His car was repossessed one day and then PHFLFLT*! Off they went the next!
Me: Wow!
Mum: You'll never guess what. Their house was full of..[pauses for effect]..chicken shit.
Me: What?
Mum: Chicken shit.
Me: IN the house?
Mum: Yep. In the house. They kept chickens... IN THE HOUSE.
Me: What on earth.
Mum: They had a mountain of washing up which they never did. And the chickens shat all over that, too!
Me: Jeez.
Mum: They had two kids. Those poor kids. They were always running around, screaming.
Me: I'll bet.

2.

I BOUGHT A CAR. Well, kind of. I made an offer, and the dude accepted it, but there has been no exchange of cash and car as yet. There probably won't be until next week, at least. It is a whole ten years younger than my last car (2005, ooh la la!) and is completely impractical, not overly fuel efficient or cost effective. So the perfect choice for me, really.

If anyone wants a 1995 Mazda Astina who goes by the name of "Little Green Shitbox" and/or "Swank" then you are more than welcome to make me an offer. Or you could just buy me a beer and it'll be an even trade.

3.

Dear Telstra,

This is the fifth time you have sent me this bill. You are stupid.

From,

RAT.

*You know the noise I am trying to make here, right?

So my ten week fitness thingy starts tomorrow. As I know myself quite well, I am predicting that I will be full of enthusiasm for the first week, and that it will slowly decrease from there. Though I am quite determined to at least get somewhere with it, so that my work clothes fit me properly again. I am giving myself an incentive, which is that I am not allowed to purchase any new item of clothing until I have lost my pad thai pudge. Which works well because a) it makes no sense to buy clothes if I am trying to lose weight, b) it hurts me deeply, because of my addiction to wandering around and buying random clothes (most of which I never wear), c) it saves me money, and makes me feel like a sensible grown-up person.

Whether I have the willpower, time will tell.

The trip away had me thinking about a lot of things, aside from my gut:

• Work. I was constantly thinking about the two jobs I had applied for (which both came to nothing, bah), but more than ever, having three weeks away made me really dread coming back. I guess this is a normal feeling, and there's not many people who love their jobs, etc. etc., but I am thinking that I should at least be trying to find a job which makes me happy. I suspect I have dug myself into a bit of a hole with the career path I have been following, as I'm just racking up more and more experience in people management/team leading when I have no desire to do it, whatsoever. I hate that with each day that passes, I am losing more of the technical/system knowledge that I need to go where I want to go. But what to do? Keep looking on Seek, I guess.

• Achieving something. I was dreading my piano lesson yesterday. Not only because I hadn't played for three weeks, but because I thought I was doing My Usual and getting to the point of quitting, because I'm a lazy cow. But I went along, and ended up coming home all inspired to keep trying. My piano teacher is in love with music, and I don't mean following the Top 40 or what's new; she lives and breathes the sounds and the feelings and gets so excited over new pieces. I know that I have the capability, I just need to keep the lazy at bay. Perhaps one day I can add "can play piano" to my list of talents, which currently contains "can spell reasonably well" and "can type fast".

• Other people. I am constantly analysing both myself and others. People with incredibly active social lives, who are constantly replying to phone calls/text messages from friends, who have every evening and their entire weekend planned from start to finish with non-stop excitement. I look at myself, who may go to drinks/dinner/etc. maybe once in a fortnight, and whose main contact with another person is Beardie, sometimes virtually through an MMORPG, and I wonder if I'm missing out on something? I've done personality tests, Myers-Briggs and all that jazz, and they all tell me that I'm an introvert (no shit, eh?), and I am pretty accepting of this. Yet I still feel inadequate, that I need to make more effort to interact with others, join a club or something, I don't know.

Yes, today is Introspective Sunday.

I hope that yours has been tip top.

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.
  

So life is stressful and a bit shitty at the moment. Presenting the week that was:

• There is bad shit going down with my best mate at work. She is very emotional and stressed about some personal issues, and me never knowing what to say means that I suck when it comes to being a positive, reassuring friend. Throw in some work stress, and this makes for a bad, bad combo. I think that I am learning that buying people donuts when they need cheering up isn't the fix to all of the world's problems. Even if they are topped with Lindt chocolate.
  
  
• I once again cocked up at work, and the Important People once again made phone calls about me. Turns out that I am looking more incompetent by the second, despite my best efforts. As well as my Pretty Hair technique, I have now also adopted the Colourful Underpants technique. Because while I may continually screw shit up, at least I have pretty hair and colourful underpants. I will report on their success/failure shortly.
  
  
• I am still desperately trying to reassure myself that I am not wasting my twenties by booking in some piano lessons. Whilst trying to act young and hip in my conversation with the receptionist lady at the music school, I was asked when I wanted to book my daughter in for her first lesson. Apparently, I sound mum-ish. Turns out she had confused me with the person she had spoken to previously, BUT STILL. They are pretty much booked solid for the next couple of weeks, except for a few slots which clash with The Holiday, so I guess I will follow it up when I get back.
  
  
• That's right, from MY HOLIDAY. Moving onto the things that are good, I am actually starting to get excited about having a whole week off work, where I can be young and carefree and dress like a hippie. Most of the week is fully booked with day trips and boat trips and trips to the cocktail bar, but just chilling and getting a massage is sounding like heaven. Good luck to whoever has to get the knots out my back, because it feels like a boy scout has earned a few badges back there.
  
  
• Forever the last one on the bandwagon, I have recently discovered Dexter, and it turns out that serial killers float my boat. Who knew?

Four days to go!

I have no blog mojo at the moment.

• Work is bleurgh. I screwed something up and Important People made phone calls about it, and it made me feel a bit rubbish. I combat this by looking sheepish, and making my hair pretty, so that even though I may have cocked shit up royally, at least I have pretty hair.
  
  
• I think I am going through a mid-twenties crisis at the moment. Re-evaluating friendships and wondering why I never pursue my interests. All that shit. I have also been having little confidence crises where I feel completely out of my depth, and wonder what I am doing in this meeting, and what is everyone talking about? Maybe this is part of growing up. Or signs that I really am losing my mind.
  
  
• I think I am going to get piano lessons and maybe start a band. See mid-twenties crisis comment above.
  
  
• I went to drinks with work people on Friday night, and I really have to stop going. I can't be doing this team leader biz, and then spilling beer on my team members after hours. Or doing my Cat Deeley impersonation. Or any of the many embarrassing things that I tend to do when the alcohol has hit me.
  
  
• This Friday I am attending farewell drinks (not work people, so it's ok) for the third person this month. So, you know, if everyone could please stop leaving me now, that would be tops.

Etc.

My phone delivers messages from the other world. It will beep, and it will say that I have a new voicemail message, when I am 100% sure that my phone has not actually rung. These random voicemail messages are generally wrong numbers. But not just any wrong numbers. I once listened to five minutes of a young girl crying and wailing "mummmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyy". And this morning, a child left a message, once again crying, and saying "hello? Hello? HELLO??!?!?"

FREAKING ME THE HELL OUT.

These are obviously messages from beyond the grave. Or if someone is playing a cruel prank, how are they putting these voicemail messages on my phone without it actually ringing? OH MAN.

After this lovely start to my Day Off, I went to the doctor, to get a new prescription for the No Babies Pill. I hate paying $50 to see a doctor, only to walk out with a slip of paper, but despite my best efforts I just couldn't think of any far-fetched afflictions to give myself. So the doctor prints out the piece of paper, and I say:

"Oh, don't suppose I could have a prescription for six months instead of three?"

Before I go on, this was the first time I had seen this doctor, as my normal one (who has seen my private parts) was not available.

Doctor: No, it only comes in one or three months.
Me: Oh. No worries.
Doctor: I think it is probably because a girl DIED from being on the pill not too long ago. So it is forcing you to see your doctor on a more regular basis.
Me: [gobsmacked]
Dr. Death: The pill gives you problems with blood clots, you see.
Me: Um.
Dr. Evil: OH, hehehe, hope I haven't worried you now. Hehehe.

THANKS.

I then went for my follow-up dentist appointment and received the Best. News. Ever! I don't have to have my wisdom teeth out, at least not for a bloody long time. They took an x-ray of my head and I discovered that I don't have three wisdom teeth, I have four, and the last one is hidden up in my jaw somewhere. Yes! I am a freak! But all is well, so I dished out more cash and then danced a dance of JOY!

So that was my day complete, but then whilst on my dental hygiene buzz I decided to go to the chemist and buy some mouthwash. I left the shopping centre three hours later, with a haircut, dresses, various hair products, jelly beans, underwear, a magazine and shoes. Oh, and mouthwash. And where I am EVER going to wear red, five-inch snakeskin stilettos, I DON'T KNOW. That's right, I have shoes that were made out of a snake.

And now, I am way poor.

• 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.

Friday.

I went to the dentist, and all seems to be fairly ok in the mouth region. My wisdom teeth now cause me no trouble/pain at all, which I took to mean that I would never have to have them removed, but ALAS! I have to go back to the dentist in a couple of weeks to discuss having them removed, because apparently they're all squished in there and will cause decay on the other teeth. Or something.

Hooray for extractions. Me and my stupid teeth which don't fit.

Went home and arsed about. Watched random crap on Youtube, and received a couple of Congrats-type texts from work people, which I assume means that they made an announcement about the job, and sent around an e-mail, or something. I then went into the city to meet up with these work people, for the farewell drinks.

All went well, everyone drank and made merry, etc. It was all terribly fun, but how things are going to be on Monday when I have to face the co-worker who made a serious pass at me, I DON'T KNOW. And it wasn't even a drunken "maybe she'll shag me" effort, it was a very full on, look deep into my eyes and let me tell you how much you mean to me type of effort.

Flattering as I am hardly ever hit on hardly hardly ever never, but WOAH.

Also, the drunkest of the bunch decided to use me to stabilise his poor attempt at walking, fell over as he was trying to cross the dance floor and took me down with him, in front of a few hundred people. And everyone thought that I was the pisshead when for once in my life, I wasn't.

And Saturday.

Lazy, lazy day. We went out for dinner/drinks but it turns out that I am not 19, and am completely unable to drink on two consecutive nights. Fortunately I didn't puke or fall asleep in the corner, but a very poor effort nonetheless.

Sunday. Lovely Sunday. Much sitting out the back and enjoying warmth. I may as well enjoy it now before it becomes Queensland Extreme and starts to piss me off.

And back to work on Monday. Sigh. And seeing what comes of the stuff that happened on Friday night. Not the falling over. The other thing. I am sort of hoping for the Let's Pretend It Never Happened approach, for everyone's sake.

Hmm.

It's when I visit my mum that I realise where all of my neuroses and exceedingly anal behavioural traits have come from. The main example to point out here is that I arranged to meet my mother at 12, but know that she's always early (plus I want to buy a couple of things) so I get there at 10:20, and at 10:30 find I've missed a phone call from my mum, her voice slightly frantic because she hates talking on my voicemail, saying "are you here yet??"

So I go and meet my mother for our 12 o'clock lunch together, at 10:30.

Explain this to me.

Every time I meet up with mummy and bro I realise how very far removed I've become from my old, country girl self. Living on top of a mountain did nothing to aid the growth of my social skills, and as much of a misfit as I feel these days, I can't help but feel like the most cosmopolitan city-dweller on earth when we visit together.

Though I did catch up on the gossip of who's cutting down their trees, and the pagan rituals the nextdoor neighbour performs, and the feral cats that fight at night, and the backstabbing children of another neighbour who are trying to put him into a nursing home so that they can take his $1.5 million enormous property, and...

They should turn it into a soap opera. The Lives of the Mountain Dwellers. The SORDID Lives of the Mountain Dwellers. Or something equally exciting.

It's a shame though, because I think that living up there gives my mum some funny ideas. She's too far removed from everything, and watches too many reruns of The Gilmore Girls and Seachange. And she is tiny, and prim and proper, yet in the middle of lunch she blurted "those Gilmore Girls, what a pair of whorebags!" and made me choke on my sushi.

Gosh.

Woah! Check out how serious this post is!

P.S. I bought new jeans and peanut butter M&M's.

Here's how NOT to impress a total stranger:

• be so incredibly drunk that you aren't aware of what you're doing
• upon meeting them, take your tie off and wrap it around and around their head
• spill beer all over them
• almost break their friend's finger
• harrass everyone who is female
• slam your fists on the table repeatedly so that everyone's drinks fall over
  

And more! Now I know what you're thinking, and no, it's wasn't me. It was some random friend of a friend who totally ruined my night. What a monumental twat!

Aside from this, there was lovely, lovely trivia. And I never thought of myself as a StupidHead, but apparently when it comes to trivia, I am. I'm not sure exactly where we stood by the end of the night, but it was very far from first.

Having said that, I am seriously thinking about banning myself from alcohol altogether, because waking up with a hangover like death after Three And A Half Drinks is freaking ridiculous. It's obvious that I have a shitty girly body which can't handle anything at all, and I think that I need to accept this and move on. And I will start drinking pink lemonade and accept my role as the Designated Driver. This is my destiny.

Late. Rambling. Goodnight.

All of a sudden, I have turned into a homebody.

Now I'll be the first to admit that I have always been a social retard, but I still used to give it a go, you know? Not so these days. On Friday night, I went out with a group from work to check out this new and super cheap place for drinking fun. And all I could do was look at my watch. This was after I'd had to force myself to go in the first place, which took a hell of a lot of willpower.

Me: Oh, I better get going now...
Them: No! Stay out and get shitfaced! We'll go here and here and do this and this!
Me: Oh. No, I need to get going. Another time!
Them: Why? What are you going to do at home?
Me: Um.

1. watch lame movies
2. watch lame TV shows
3. play with my computer
4. eat lardy food
5. sit around
6. play "On Top of Old Smoky" (oh YES, I have upgraded)

Me: I'm just not really prepared for a big night out tonight. Next time though, for sure!

So I went home at 8pm and did a selection of the above, and it was awesome in its own lame kind of way.

And that's ok, isn't it?

Following on from Wednesday's depressing post o' misery, signs I am getting old are as follows:

• When I get up from my seat after having my legs folded up in one of my usual bizarre positions, my joints hurt.
• When I get up (in general), I groan.
• I hand out tissues to people when they've got the sniffles. (Though I'm not yet keeping them in my bra or up my sleeve.)
• I don't understand today's fashion.
• I don't understand kids these days,
• I think that the cartoons on TV totally blow in comparison to the ones I used to watch when I was a wee tyke.
• I don't like CGI movies (the Pixar stuff, you know) or TV shows. I like the type of animation that people draw. With their hands.
• There's nothing like a good cup of tea.
  

Actually, looking over that list, I realise that I've been this way since I was a teenager, really. Except for the groaning and the rusty joints. Conclusion: I have been 70 years old since I was 17.

I bought a pretty dress today!!!!

That is all.

Today is melancholy, headachey Wednesday:

Sometimes I think that I spend so much time working that my youth is passing me by, and when I look at my tired eyes every day I can't help but wonder how long it will be until I turn into a haggard, old crone.

Ok, so I have a digital piano now. This is extremely awesome and worthy of many exclamation marks.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I expect the secret talent that I never knew about to kick in, ASAP. Talent, are you listening to me?

I have this because now I am 25, and yesterday I was 24.

I had a cake with candles and a rude picture made of icing. It was lovely. I did pretty much nothing except arse about, play games and eat curry, but most importantly I was not at work.

The end.

Today was a grey day. I was supposed to go for drinkies after work and didn't, and instead I am watching music videos from the late 90's on YouTube. This is fantastic.

No! I'm not kidding!

Warning: This is a post about nothing. If decent content is required, it is advised that you leave ASAP, before valuable moments of your life are wasted on my drivel. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Last night I spent the better part of the evening going through all of the old blogs that I used to read, way back when. And a grand total of about five are still going. Out of something like forty. I think that maybe I will need to get with the times and find out who all of the cool kids are reading these days. And then it will be just like those moments when you go to the pub and realise that half of the people at the bar were born in 1989, and you grow a little more haggard and wretched on the inside.

Or maybe not.

Tonight, I will quite possibly scour ebay for crap that I don't need and won't use. And I will most definitely eat lardy food and watch movies to make me blubber. Because it is Friday, and while everyone else is getting drunk and partying, I have decided that this Friday night will be Cry Night. I am gigantic sissy. You should totally try it sometime.

And for the moment, there is nothing left to do except strum my guitar and sing Top 40 songs in an 'alternative' way, and by alternative I mean the exact same way I play every song, because I suck.

You are invited to drinks in Brisbane next Friday evening. There will be no crying involved. Make sure you come, okthxbye.

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.