Whats bugging me today

Pet Hate # 978

Why oh why when I am walking down the footpath/sidewalk, if I am a single individual, do pairs of people think its ok to "push" me off the path?
Below, a diagram.
The left, is what irritates me so (I am the pink dot). Why is scenario 2 (right) so hard to accomplish? That's how I walk on paths in a pair?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why do girls going to school now carry nothing but handbags (and tiny ones)? I DO NOT understand this.
Where are their books? AND, even if I concede that they may have lockers AT school, where is their homework? Surely they don't all carry PDA's or something equally ridiculous to do their schoolwork on? I recall in high school everyone endeavouring to carry the smallest bags they could to school, but as we didn't have lockers, this only resulted in everyone carrying enormous ring binder folders with all their books in their arms instead of their shoulders. You demonstrated your obvious individuality by how witty, how brilliantly you sourced the cut outs and photos you decorated your folder with. So much better than Calvin & Hobbes on that folder (so childish), or Luke Perry (too "teen") no you're moody and "deep" because you have a post-modern something-or-other.
How many adults do you see doing that now? None, and there's a reason.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Memo-Narita is NOT Tokyo

LOCATION: Narita Airport JAPAN
Local Time 10.47 am
Weather is overcast but very warm and humid. Shorts and singlet weather!

So we’ve landed in Japan and we're about to head off again, currently sitting in the Free Yahoo cafe in Narita Airport, which is cool!
Note we're at Narita Airport, NOT Tokyo as we previously thought. Having told everyone we were stopping in Tokyo we feel like right idiots finding out that we're in Narita, which is most certainly NOT Tokyo. Its like landing at Newcastle, thinking you were in Sydney, might as well be worlds apart. We didn't find out until we asked how to get into Tokyo, and the hotel lobby guy told us it was too late (at 8pm) to go. We googled it and found it was a 2 hr train ride away. Gah!
So thats a little annoying, and as a result we didn't really get to see anything beyond the hotel and a convenience store across the road from the Hotel. Oh well!

I had an epiphany last night. And then felt like a twit when I told M, as he'd realised it ages ago. We fly out of Japan at noon local time.　We're in the air for just over 12 hours, so even though we land at 4pm London time, it will feel like midnight. I'm going to be buggered!!!
M laughed at me and said he had known this all along. :(
oh well.

Had a coffee at the airport. My choices were Cappucino, Cafe latte, Cafe Mocha or Double Espresso. Espresso it is! After the worlds tiniest UHT milk was added, it actually looked just like I like it! Success! Unfortunately, as is common with my coffee drinking style the second half was cold before I remembered to drink it. Oh well.

Weird encounter with Japanese Police in the airport too. Having just decided to head down to Security to make our way to our gate, two Police officers stopped us asking what we were doing. I answered in a slihglty bewildered fashion and they askled for our passports. After jotting down all our information, including Birth place (St Leonards for me, Sydney for M) & asking for our occupations, we were on our way.
Odd!

Are you my type?

I most definitely have a type. Thankfully M sits squarely in the middle of it, so I feel I can discuss it freely.

As a Married White Female, I don't find myself "checking out" guys very often anymore. Not that I ever really wandered around as a single gal gawking at mens butts and letting out a low whistle everytime I saw something I appreciated. I just find that when it comes to looking at men aesthetically now, I just, sort of....don't....

So its a pleasant surprise when someone does catch my eye, and I can look, appreciate, and move on. As a single gal, I remember categorising men into groups of whether I not I wanted to "go there", friends, and not interested-please move right along.

In a pub, it might mean going over and flirting, perhaps sharing a drink. I still find it remarkable the number of guys that will buy a girl a drink. I barely had to spend any of my own money when I was single! Meaning I could fritter it all away on other ridiculous purchases.

At a party it might have simply been finding someone I was vaguely interested in, that would chat and be entertaining for (part of) the evening.

Celebrities that fit my "type"
(I will disclaimer this that there are other celebrities I find attractive, but aren't in this category)

ERIC BANA

Favourite film to date, Troy.

CLIVE OWEN

No particular favourite film, and he doesn't immediately leap to mind when I think of attractive celebrity men. Fits the type though.

GERARD BUTLER

Favourite film would have to be a toss up between Phantom of The Opera (he played Phantom!) and P.S. I Love You- so sad. Such a tear jerker.

EWAN McGREGOR

Favourite film to date is Moulin Rouge, hands down. I *heart* that movie SO much.

Now I'm going to be the first to say M is not wealthy, English, Irish or Scottish. I use these celebs only in the capacity to demonstrate my "type"

~Using these pictures, how would YOU categorise my type?

Mmm, might go and peruse some other male celeb galleries....for research purposes only of course....

That asshole in your rearview mirror might just be me

I'm quite an aggressive driver. I know this, but don't try to tell me, its embarrassing enough knowing it myself without others pointing it out.

Its not that I'm road raging all the time, but I have a tendency to be impatient, especially when I'm running late, which is often. I have been known to beep my horn on occasion, but I draw the line at screaming at someone out my window. That kind of shit gets you arrested.
I have been known to be the person zooming down the lane that is about to run out, but only if I'm really pressed for time so I don't feel guilty about doing it. When I'm not late, I make the effort to sit in the other lanes (I always sit in the lane that won't have people merge into it at all), trying not to fume, and I tell myself "they might have a sick relative they're rushing to get to".

I always wonder if other people on the road are aware of "the rest of us".

An example from this morning. The majority of my journey is on a four lane road (2 each way). There are technically kerbside lanes also but they're full of parked cars, so useless for driving on.

Today there were two cars driving almost parallel with each other, leaving no room to pass either of them, frustrating the hell out of literally every car behind them!

And I'm positive they didn't know each other, different ages, different nationalities, I think they were honestly oblivious to the rest of the traffic trying to co-exist with them.

It drives me nuts!

I kind of hate it too, as I recognise I'm doing it. Almost every morning for the last three weeks I have thought about this post, starting it in my head. Think about that.

Almost every morning for the last three weeks, at some point in my journey to work, I have thought, "I am an aggressive driver". That's so depressing. All that wasted energy.

For a while I drove the back way to and from work, not because it was quicker, it isn't. But because its pretty, the view is nicer, and everyone is just ambling along. Its all one lane, so no passing, but that helps me chill out a bit more. And if I'm not hooning around, and someone is sitting on my tail, I think to myself, "this isn't the faster way, if you wanted to hoon you should have gone the main road" so I don't feel guilty about sitting on 55 km/h (still technically speeding in a 50 zone anyway!)

My most shameful driving incident to date, was a few weeks ago. I had just left work, didn't have a good day, so already on the wrong foot.

I've done a diagram to explain it better. I'm in the Pink car (of course)

So I was approaching the traffic lights, and just as they went green, the car in front of me (blue) stopped to allow a car from the side street (purple)to ease into the traffic. I was immediately pissed off as in my experience, whenever that happens, both the cars in front of me will make it through the lights, but I won't*.

And that's exactly what happened, I only just missed the green light.

So what did I do?

What every rational person does of course, I leaned on my horn, repeatedly, to express my frustration as the car drove through the lights and off into the sunset. I was that frustrated I could have cried (and nearly did). I may have kind of screamed at myself. (With all the windows up)

It was absolutely ridiculous!

I felt like an utter twit after I'd calmed down, the light changed again and I drove away, the rest of the journey incident free. To exacerbate matters, M was away on business for the night so where I would normally come home, have a vent and a hug, and felt ten times better, there was just our empty house and my ridiculous temper tantrum to keep me company.

*(not without running a RED light, which for all my law breaking, I don't do, even when very annoyed)

Secrets and Lies

Have you ever noticed that its easier to keep a secret as time passes? When you first find something out, or decide you're not going to share it with people, suddenly you have a pressing need to tell others. You immediately think of others you want to tell.

And if you can get through that first conversation with them, its suddenly easier to not tell them after all.

The longer you have a secret, the more it becomes a part of you. YOU know its true, and eventually you forget you haven't told anyone, because its just something you know then. Like you know that Aunt Mary's dog has brown fur, so this thing becomes part of the fabric of your knowledge.
Thats why its so much easier to slip up later on, because you forgot you didn't tell anyone. Unless, I suppose, your secret is that you are really a (insert other gender here). Then you wuld be hyper aware I guess.

This is (one of the many reasons of course) why I could never be unfaithful in a marriage. I won't say I'm a saint and that I was pure as the driven snow in previous relationships, but I simply don't understand how people could do that in marriage. And to a lesser extent once you start living together. It would consume me! And the lies! The lies that would build on the lies, how do they ever keep track of it all?

Its no wonder that private investigators always say "if you think its going on, it is".

Perhaps my main concern is I'm a pretty hopeless secret keeper. I always want to tell someone. Which is of course how secrets spiral out of control and become common knowledge. One person wants to just tell one other person. Before you know it, everyone knows. I've taken to prefacing a secret divulgence with "can I tell M?" Because chances are if I can't even tell him, its just better not to tell me. Because I won't be able to not tell him, unless the secret directly relates to him, in which case I'll tell someone else!!!

Skills you can't put on your resume

We've all got them. Things that you're good at, talents we have that no one cares about for the most part. Usually they won't get you anywhere in life. Forget about putting them on your resume, and don't rush out and register your ABN in a hurry; this skill simply isn't marketable, because no one would ever pay you to do it.

Some skills of mine I'm particularly proud of, but are essentially a giant waste of head space:

~ I can learn the words to a song on the radio relatively quickly. I find myself really listening to songs, hearing the words so I can sing them back later.
This translates into driving along in the car, singing along to songs my husband says he's never even heard before. (In the same vein, I can remember the words to songs years later, and sing along quite well. I have no idea where these talents come from, as I wouldn't class myself as musically inclined at ALL.)
~ I can unpack my trolley onto the conveyer belt at the supermarket into shopping bag sections. I line up everything as I take it out of the trolley, and if I watch as the checkout person packs it, they can go along the belt and pack it exactly like I unloaded.
* pet hate #423- When they ignore my belt layout and shove everything in every which-way. Grr! >:-Z

I'm sure there are millions out there - Perhaps the ability to slice a cucumber perfectly straight, and yet no other vegetables (making you a useless Chef). Perhaps you can perfectly time your coast to the red traffic light so that you don't have to fully stop? I knew a guy who, when he changed lanes with those little bumpy dots, he could time it perfectly to avoid them.

What are yours?

Ella..ella..ella

This is my favourite song at the moment. I had a major jones a while ago for Mika's song, Happy Ending, and now its Rihanna. SO ANNOYING, this song has been released but isn't on her album, which I already own. They're going to Re-Release Good Girl Gone Bad, with this song included as a bonus track. I really hate when record companies do this, and it happens with DVD's also. By releasing the same thing with added features, essentially they're punishing the :suckers: (me) who were stupid enough to buy the first version, which ipso facto, MADE THE ALBUM POPULAR ENOUGH TO RE-RELEASE IN THE FIRST PLACE!
How stupid do they think consumers are! Its frustrates me no end.

Gah! *breathe*

Also, when you watch it, look toward the end, is she wearing a lace leotard/body stocking?

I don't like this clip. Looking for it to post here was the first time I'd seen it, and I'm terribly disappointed in it. She looks mannish for most of it.
I really liked her haircut for Umbrella, but this version I think has overstepped that oh-so-careful line of edgy/manly. And I think she looks too thin, unhealthy, whereas in Umbrella, she has quite the hippy silhouette, and I was rejoicing the return of the curve. *sigh* she has fallen victim to celebrity thinness though.

Another thing I noticed in this video is Rhianna has a tattoo on her neck. I quite like it!
I know another girl who has the Southern Cross tattooed on her neck, not quite in the same place as this one, more under her ear, and larger than this, say thrice the size.
I'm not a fan I must say. I think the Southern Cross is way over-used in Australian culture, I've seen that many tattoos of it.

I still kind of want a tattoo. Friends of ours, the girl wants a tattoo, and she was thinking of having her son's name and birthdate done. But it sets a dangerous precedent doesn't it? All your children deserve real estate on your body somewhere then don't they? And what do you tell them? "Sweetheart Mummy doesn't have your name because she was a giant wuss and it hurt too much after the first one"

I just couldn't decide what to get. My sister recently equated the pain of a brazilian wax to a tattoo. Her argument being, if you can put up with the torture of having your lady garden ripped out piece by piece, surely you can endure a red hot needle jabbing you repeatedly. I just don't know, she hasn't actually had a tattoo so.....

Perhaps LadyLou can shed some light for us?

I remember being in high school and for a period it seemed all my friends were getting tattoos (if she jumped off the Harbour Bridge...). More to the point they were all getting great tattoos. Relevant, suited-them-down-to-the-ground type tattoos that they were unlikely to regret. At the time I was kind of into spiderwebs, I would doodle them often, and they became a (admittedly very small) trademark for me. So I was actively encouraged to get a spiderweb....somewhere.

In retrospect, I'm very glad I didn't because it would be so irrelevant now. The only thing I keep coming back to for an idea is my star sign, Libra, as I know that's never going to change at least.

(here's that Google Image Search. Tattoo image searches certainly are fraught with danger aren't they? Look for the woman with the breasts....)

Oh well. :)
*text colour edited

The height of rudeness? Or exceptions to every rule?

Do you think its arrogant to correct people?

I can't help it sometimes personally. Jamie Durie* was caught out recently, correcting Prince Phillip at the Chelsea Flower Show. Even thought he was most polite, the Prince took offence at his quiet correction

"He said to me, `I do like your tree fern'. I said, `Actually it's not a tree fern, it's a member of the cycad family. It's a Macrozamia moorei','' Durie revealed last night.

"And with that, he walked off. As he was walking away he said, `I didn't come here to get a lesson' under his breath. I didn't hear him say it, one of the boys heard him.''

In this instance there are several forces at play. Being from a monarchy we have a natural deference to Royalty, and it could be said that Durie shouldn't have corrected a member of the Royal Family (well he only married in anyway!)
He's also older than Jamie, so you've got a dose of "respect your elders" thrown in also.
But what about "the old bugger doesn't know what he's on about!" and "but this is my JOB"? (he did win the Show after all) I mean, Jamie Durie didn't go to University to study Horticulture only to let Macrozamia-ignorance waft by unchallenged.

I've learned to let mispronunciations pass me by. While this in itself makes me sound like a complete prat, sometimes I could hear people mispronounce words five or six times a day. It gets tiring trying to tactfully point out the correct way of saying something. *giant wank*

But when people use words completely out of context, or go off half cocked, I usually feel compelled to pull them up on it. Am I being a know-it-all? Or am I saving them future embarrassment by not correcting them, and allowing them to continue to think they're saying/using it correctly?

*Hehehe initially I wrote Drury, like Drury Lane, and the Muffin Man. Hahaha

I don't know how she does it...

I have a cousin, who shall remain nameless, but she is welcome to disgrace herself in comments, by 'fessing up. This cousin, is somewhat known for caring little for her possessions. At least, that's what mothers say when 5-year-olds leave their belongings everywhere, its almost a threat, if you don't remember to take care of your things, you shan't be allowed to keep that sparkly lip gloss you left at Sophie's house.

So, dear cousin has made a name for herself within the family (and probably her friends, I can't imagine this behaviour is isolated to us). She appears to be physically incapable of taking everything she brought with her, away again. Yes, my home has been known to be littered with forgotten belongings; cardies, earrings, electronic devices.

These belongings are sort of on a sliding scale of importance in how much they will be missed by said cousin.
Red Cardigan? So important to wardrobe functioning, that it was required to be express posted back to her, as she could not wait the 7 days until we saw each other again, and I could return it.
Pink jacket? Not so loved. It languished at our place for two weeks until return.
There have been occasions when we've done a baggage check before leaving, double checking she's got everything. An hour later : "can you check if I left my makeup in the bathroom?"...wander into bathroom, we have a winner. We've had instances where the bag check was complete, and then she managed to leave her jacket in the car!
Its almost become a game, and we are merciless in ribbing her about it. She's only got herself to blame however, and I've reached a point where I think "I don't know how she does it...she doesn't bring that much stuff with her!"
Alas, I have made myself into such a spectacle with my in-laws.
I have morphed into the kind of person who should start to carry her car and house keys on a chain around her neck, 24/7.
I've left my keys at shop counters. I've locked them in the house. I've been "unable" to find them, only to have M rifle through my bag again and find them in the mire. My (until today) most recent episode, I lost them. Somewhere between the parking garage at home, and the shops, I lost my house keys. I don't know how it happened, I thought they were in my bag, I had them when I went to the gym in the morning, and then IN the garage. But when I got the shopping to my door, they were nowhere to be found.

This was a disaster. It was a Saturday, M was at work and I had been food shopping, expecting friends through the door at home for a casual luncheon in the sun, a mere ten minutes after I arrived (yes, I was cutting it fine already). I had to leave my shopping on the floor in front of our door, and pray no one in the building stole it, while I ducked around to my in-laws.

And this is where they enter the scene. Everytime I've fucked up with my keys, I've had to call them because they are less than five minutes away, and they have our spares. One time, I managed to lock myself out of the house before work, and had to call my brother in law (asleep) to drive them around to me (miracle I had my phone on me). So on this occasion, I rang them, determined they were home, and dashed around to collect their spares so I could let myself in, all the while they're shaking their heads at me.

Which brings me to today. Today, I somehow managed to set the alarm, leave the apartment, get half way down the stairs, before I realised I didn't have my keys with me. How on earth did I manage to NOT pickup my keys on the way out the door?
I baffle myself with how I manage these things! Leaving the house is one of those things you do on automatic pilot, and the keys are directly above the alarm panel!

I quickly considered and rejected a hysterical, essentially useless, phone call to M, who is certainly by now, already at work, no where near me. I determine I need to move my ass, and walk to the bus stop and catch a bus to work, figuring I will organise getting home later.
Re-enter in-laws.
Easiest option is to get my mother-in-law to pick me up from work, as she is nearby, and get M to pick me up from there this evening. While this is easiest, this path is also the most shameful, as I re-affirm for them, that I am somehow incapable of managing my keys, in the simplest of situations.

*sigh* cue the jokes again...

Well there's the rich, and there's the mega-wealthy.

Yesterday it was announced that Macquarie Bank's CEO, Alan Moss, is retiring after thirty years of service with an $80 million dollar payout: $24.8 million pay packet for the year, a $24.8 million bonus and more than $30 million in Macquarie- related shares he has bought over the years.
Laree Madonna Jane, ex-wife of Tyre Giant Bob Jane (T-Marts) has told court she cannot possibly live on the $30K a MONTH ($800K a YEAR) allowance she is currently allocated.
She is such an extravagant spender, she also ran up $1.5 Million in debt over 41 credit cards!!! I can't even think how she'd get that many cards!! That's more than one with every bank I can think of + store cards anywhere that offers them!
The case has hit the news also because Mrs Jane couldn't control her spending and ended up dipping into two franchises she part owns.

When their spending started to cause financial problems for the Bob Jane Corporation, Rodney Jane - Mr Jane's son from a previous relationship - put Mrs Jane on an allowance of $70,000 a month.

Mrs Jane, her sister Natarsha Ryan and her husband Glenn Ryan have taken legal action to win a ruling that the corporation was not legally entitled to issue a notice of default on the T-Mart franchises at Taylors Lakes and Essendon after they ran up debts of $440,000.

Mr Collins said that while debt was running up in the franchises, the Ryans and Mrs Jane bought property and other assets and appeared to be trying to build up their own empire.

How much money can a person need! I'm not ashamed to admit that I make less than $70K A YEAR. I don't even know what I would spend that much on.
Its not known what she spent all the money on, but reports include a purchase of "rare pearls".

I'm in tonight's Powerball draw, $30 Mil split four ways if we win. I can't afford to continue to lose however, if we don't win soon I'll have to pull out hehehe.
M and I often muse, how much money we could win that would be "enough". Everyone's got their own bar for where "enough" falls. Say, "enough to change your life".
We start small, say if we won $10K, what would we do with it. I think its generally agreed if you won $10K however, its not really enough to do anything with* other than be excited. Go on a more extravagant holiday than you could normally afford, new boots, new this, new that, before you know its all gone. Its not enough to make a substantial dent in our mortgage*, so its kind of not worth putting any of it there.
So then you move onto say $50K. While nice, and we probably would throw some of that amount at our mortgage, again, a nice holiday, some savings possibly, some fun, but it wouldn't change our life drastically. $100K? Doesn't wipe out our mortgage, we can't stop working, so where does it end? Is it "enough" if you can pay off your mortgage? Is it only "enough" if you can go on and buy a house and have spare change? By that standard, depending where you want to live, $1 Mil might not even cover you.

*Obviously we haven't even considered simpy investing the money in any of these scenarios. The sensible thing would probably be invest at least half the money if its a small amount ( >$20K is this arrow the right way? I can never remember which way means which) and pay any interest into the mortgage as it makes it.

Music = Foregone conclusion? Or reflection of intelligent process?

Do you think music was destined to exist?
Music can be viewed as a mathematical construct, with notes and beats and rhythm. So if Mathematics is an intelligence, is music?
Think how basic music could be, a simple as bashing the ground with a stick.
Now think of a song on radio, how much more complicated music is, and it made me think whether music was destined to exist. Do you think humanity would have found its way there eventually, as a foregone conclusion? Or do you think Music is an intelligent construct?
I was sitting at the traffic lights, and I suddenly wondered whether a different race would recognise music for what it is, or if aliens came to earth, would they switch on the radio and think "what the hell is this"?

Dead and buried, but where?

I don't really talk about religion on here, save that my husband M is Catholic and I'm not (slightly ambiguous sorry) I'm an atheist and its not a problem for us.
We were at a wedding reception for M's Aunt on the weekend, and I was chatting to his cousin Lachlan and his girlfriend Jess. We ended up having one of those bizarre all around the place conversations where I ended up telling them an anecdote about discussing burial plots with M's grandparents (also his). I've grown up with only one Grandmother and her sister, my Great Aunt, and as a pair they're the closest thing to Grandparents I've ever known, its been like having two grannies. On the flipside, M has had four grandparents his whole life, and I've gotten to know them too. His father's parents were the ones we discussed burial plots with, they're very easy going and we got there in a very organic way; I didn't just come out and start talking about death and funerals. M's grandfather is also a twin, and I just couldn't resist asking them both about their viewpoints on who you get buried with. I imagine as a twin he feels a strong connection to his sister, but she's got a (deceased) husband of her own buried in another town, and he's got a lovely wife, and they seem very much in love and that they would want to spend eternity next to each other. So how do people reconcile where they're buried? My family doesn't really have family plots or anything that I know of. Mum's always said she wants to be cremated and Dad wants to be buried as far as I know, so I've never erally taken the cue from them.
So I was discussing this conversation with Lachlan and Jess, and it brought me to another topic I've always pondered upon, being the afterlife.
LOL no I don't mean in general, or something I muse about terribly often, but the one thing I've always been curious about, if when people have multiple partners, which ties into the burial plot thing too.
My maternal grandfather died when he was 47, so technically my grandmother has been a widow longer than she was even married to him for. He (I assume) is buried in the country town they lived in and he grew up in. But does that mean she will be buried there? And what would happen if she had met someone else after that? My mother was only 9 when he died, and in modern society my grandmother probably would have re-married. Her children were youngish, she had half her life still ahead of her! Which brings me to the afterlife part, if you DO re-marry, who do you spend your afterlife with?
I've always particularly wondered this about young widows/widowers. Say people that become widowed in their twenties, they're probably going to go on to love someone else just as passionately as they did their first husband. (for tidiness I'm going to stick to married couples, not life partners who I'm sure have the same dilemmas).
So we were pondering this point also, Lachlan, Jess and I (hey I said it was organic! It wasn't weird to be discussing this at a wedding until right at the end when they got that glassy-eyed look). So we're chatting, and a woman was getting a drink from the bar next to where we were standing, and she went onto say "you spend the afterlife with the person you like the most" if you have multiple life partners. Which I think beggers the question, what if YOUR most-liked-person, doesn't pick YOU as their most-liked-person???
She didn't think it mattered, they'd never know and that in their afterlife you don't care about any of that either. She actually took it as a sign that she was meant to hear our conversation, I think so she could enlighten us. I don't know about the accuracy of that, but it's certainly been food for thought since.

I'm so vain... yes this song is about me

I'm quite vain.

Main Entry:

vain

Function:

adjective

Etymology:

Middle English, from Anglo-French, empty, futile, from Latin vanus — more at wane

Date:

14th century

1: having no real value : idle, worthless <vain pretensions>
2: marked by futility or ineffectualness : unsuccessful, useless <vain efforts to escape>
3 archaic : foolish, silly
4: having or showing undue or excessive pride in one's appearance or achievements : conceited

Well I wouldn't class myself as textbook vain (or ^Vanity Smurf^ vain), it doesn't take me 2 hours to leave the house or anything, but I always look at myself in plate glass windows and/or mirrors when I'm walking around.
There are several shop fronts in our business park that fit the bill for this exercise, and as I walk to get my coffee in the morning (or lunch, or the mail or.....), I always check how I look, whether I chose the right thing to wear.
Its almost compulsive, I can't help it!
Often I worry that the staff in the shops are saying "oh yeah its that girl again, checking herself out, AGAIN"
Or maybe they're making faces at me behind the glass and I'm so absorbed with the reflection I'm not looking through the glass.
Hmm I wonder if this wears off?

Weird Dreams (again)

Sometimes I'm amazed by what the mind conjures up whilst dreaming. I like to try and figure out where my dreams come from, because sometimes I think they're really obvious when you look through your life, you can peice together the influences.

I had this really weird dream this morning/last night....

For some reason I was at some sort of event where there was a sausage sizzle, but I didn't have one, and when I left, I caught a train to Chatswood Station. When I got there I was searching madly for a sausage sizzle* stand. Chatswood station didn't look normal though, they're currently upgrading it so in my dream it was really new and sort of space age, and HUGE. Like imagine a huge domed roof made of either glass or pale blue glazed tiles with white tubular supports, and there was sort of a mezzanine level around the bottom edges of the dome. There were a million people milling around, and it wasn't just a station, it was also an airport. It had the buzz of an airport also.

So I was looking for the sausage sizzle stand, when I glance out the window (at what should be, by rights, Victoria Mall) and there is a plane, larger than life through the glass, in a nose dive; it was almost vertical, and it slams into the ground, nose first and sort of crumples at the tip. (I remember thinking, in the dream, "oh yes, its falling like that because its empty, if it had freight or passengers it wouldn't be so vertical..."-I don't even think this is true, but it made complete sense in my dream)

So there was a shudder through the ground, and a few people fall down, and subconsciously I figure I need to get away from the area and started running toward the exit (which is Railway Street, which is the only completed section of the refurbished Station I've seen, so my brain has constructed this entire new station from looking at the new entrance) and then the aftershock(?) hits as I'm running away, and there's a blast as everyone is knocked off their feet by the impact, and I remember seeing the little floor tiles exploding as the dirt/earth sort of radiated away from the impact zone.

I think I woke up after this, as I can't remember anymore.
So weird.

*I LOVE sausage sizzles, which could be a reason they feature in my dreams.

Wedding? What wedding?

This is a bit of a shout out to PrincesseEmma, a new reader who is a self-confessed wedding junkie. Any questions you have about weddings, mine specifically, feel free to ask in the comments and I'll reply. And any other regulars, if there's anything you wanted to know, or anything you want to ask in hindsight, feel free :)

If you're new to the site and want to have a gander at my wedding, photos can be found here

Sweatshop or cheap shop?

As I gaze down upon my new shoeys, (as we have dubbed them, I don't know what anyone else calls them- cheap Asian shoes made of netting and sequins?....) I can't help but wonder whether my love of two-dollar shops is fueling a sweatshop trade.
I mean, I bought them for $5 a pair, they can't possibly be made for any more than say AUD$1, otherwise there would be no profit margin for the shop selling them, or the exporter, or the maker.

But at the same time as musing over my shopping principals, and whether they are keeping down Aussie industry, I baulk at the thought of paying any more than $5 for them.

How far does a social conscience take you? Should I stop shopping in bargain stores run by immagrants because the items may or may not be produced quite as ethically as they could be?

Whats a girl to do? Would it be worse if I was really into Gucci handbags and paid $600+ for one, when they're probably produced for less than 5% of that?
(sidenote, did you know you buy things called Handbag Hangers? To store and sort your handbags?? Sounds sort of brilliant if you own a lot of bags. That reminds me....still have to sort out my multitude of cheap handbags)

How socially conscience is everyone else when they shop? Am I worrying too much about funding an unjust economic system?

strange brainyness

Sometimes your brain reads what it wants to read
Carey 'assault': 911 call
Britney hospitalised
Mercury surprises NASA
Implant unscrambles brain
I'm thinking, Britney is involved with NASA and has an implant in her brain?
Weird.
But then it all fell into place.

Brothers & Sisters, Joan Sauers ****

A woman who gave birth to a baby for her sister...Brothers who fought each other in the Supreme Court for the family farm...Two sisters who survived Auschwitz together, one convincing the other to choose life over death...A famous actress and her not-so-famous sister...Five loving siblings of whom four are adopted from different racial backgrounds....

....Sometimes sad, often quite funny, Brothers and Sisters is a book for everyone, and especially for those who still have arguments about who was the favourite child...

**Couldn't find the cover art, I tried! So here is cute pic of random brother and sister. :)

Great book. I really enjoyed the perspectives it offered on sibling relationships. My only criticism was that there was no summation at the end of the issues raised and theories offered.

The book finishes with Sauers' own siblings and their answers to the same questions asked of the included parties, but it is delivered in the same interview style as all the other chapters. I would have liked Sauers to have offered opinions and theorems on the subject and the "why's".

4 / 5

It did, naturally, make me reflect on the relationship I have with my own brother and sisters, and others that I know. There's also a few interviews with Single children, or "only children". {Hmm, has anyone thought about where that phrase comes from? Only Children? Only what? When you actually go to write that down you realise it doesn't quite make sense....}
One of the things I have speculated about often recently is my sisters. As they are both overseas presently, it does make you reflect more on your relationship with them, people are ask how I'm "doing/going". And I do miss them, a lot. Interestingly the way they interact with us while they are away affects how much we miss them.

At least I think it does, it's hard to say. I miss Beeb a lot, and I think the fact that she's constantly texting has an affect on that, but then its possible that it feels like I miss Eca less only because she's been gone so much longer. By the time she's home she will have been gone 2 years. I do think the time she's been gone though, has only been bearable because she's actually been back twice in that time for visits (which were fab!). I was definitely a lot sadder the last time she left, and when Beeb left everyone was a blubbering mess so I totally lost it.
In Eca's defence also, she's been way more communicative in Philadelphia where she can just sit at the computer at home and chat away :)

I actually think Facebook has helped a lot too. Its as useless as tits on a bull for friends that live in the same city as you (you remember them, the ones you actually SEE)
But it's been really great for communicating with my sisters.

My brother has always been a little left of centre. I hope as we get older we can relate better to each other. Interestingly I've always clashed the most with him of everyone I think, and yet, of the four of us, we've the most in common now as we're both married.

Hmmm....

Go me.

I took Sage Vivant's Erotic Personality Quiz and discovered I'm a Show-Off!

What is your Erotic Personality? Find out now.

Confessions of a Clerical Assistant

When I was between the ages of 10 and 19 roughly I kept a diary. The entries are generally narrative, no "Dear Diary" crap, and I thought everything I was writing was SO interesting. (hey has much changed?)
I think about my diaries often. They sit at the top of the spare wardrobe in two innocent looking boxes, numbering about 12 A5 books in total, and I rarely look at them. But I think about them a bit.
I don't necessarily muse over whether I should have liked that boy more than THAT boy, or should I have been less of a bitch to THAT girl.
I think mostly about my motivation for keeping them.
I know I reached the age of 19 or so and I realised I wasn't writing in them as often, and I couldn't be bothered making the effort to continue to write so religiously.
It felt all so contrived. And I kind of still think it is.
In a way I think it was a good outlet for my oh-so-angst-ridden teenage thoughts and feelings. I mean, every teenage girl thinks the sky is falling don't they?
Maybe they don't.
Somehow with my oh-so-easy upbringing I still felt entitled to have "issues"
non-existent as they were.
I mean don't get me wrong, it wasn't as though I didn't know girls with issues. Hell I DID!
I have often recounted to people that of all the divorced kids I went to school with, the ones I noticed most were girls, and without exception they all hated their fathers with a passion. I always thought that was an interesting reflection on how girls cope with family break down. They side with their mother.
I think it was probably a good outlet in some ways, maybe I simply didn't feel of any of my friends I could tell them absolutely everything that I told my diary.

One of the interesting things that crop up when people talk about diaries and motiviation is fear of discovery. Some people are terrified their diary will be stolen and read. Some people will stop writing after this. I came to a realisation one day that I think I always wrote my diary hoping that someone would find it and read it.
I think I was hoping someone would understand me. its also possible though that I was looking for pity and maybe "if someone truly understood me they would feel sorry for me"
Except I wasn't worthy of anyone feeling sorry for me. I was a whiny bitch. That's what teenagers do. They feel misunderstood, until they get older and realise they were giant whingers.

I remember one of my diaries was a small Art Book, with blank pages. I was going through an arty phase where I was hoping if I had the tools of the trade I would be more arty than I really was. I had this romantic ideal of being artistic and talented. That fell on its ass. LOL.

In year 10 I took one of the career aptitude tests they give you in "Careers", which I'm pretty sure I had first period Thursday morning.
I ticked all my boxes etc and added my score. I was devastated when the field I was told I was destined for was "Clerical and Administration". I wanted to be in the "creative" category that would yeild me an interesting career like "Museum Curator" or something fancy sounding.
I look back on that test and I think, why didn't I trust that test more?
The job I have now? Well you could class the industry as Technology, but my actual job? Clerical/Administration. And I LOVE it. I've said it a hundred times in job interviews, "I like Admin. Hey it's not for everyone, I admit, but it's my thing. I like the preciseness of it."

LOL