Back with a blogging mission

I'm back, and I've got something to keep me typing over the holidays. That's right - I said holidays! The year has come to a close and I am free! Free I tell you!! And what will I do with my 5 weeks of freedom? Well, the plan is:

NOT MUCH AT ALL!!

So far I've spent my time hanging out with friends, lounging on couches, watching movies, swimming at the weir, and eating poorly. Just my favourite set of holiday pastimes. Somewhere during this amazing amount of nothingness (somewhere between eye candy and real candy) I suggested to a friend that I might just watch a stupid amount of movies these holidays and that would be my mission. He said 50. I said easy. And somehow we settled on:

And so it began... my

SUMMER HOLIDAY MUSCLE MELTING 

MOVIE MADNESS MISSION

The rules are this:

Rule number one: I can change the rules at any time, cos I'm the only one playing.

Rule number two: 10% of the movies must be in 3D

Rule number three: because I begged and sooked and was concerned that I might not be able to stand up to get to work after 5 weeks of movie watching coma - so to make sure I stand up occasionally, each WiiActive workout counts towards my movie total. Although, despite my desperate desire to watch the rest of season 6 of Dexter, TV shows apparently do not count. But I'm going to squeeze them in somehow anyway.

Number One: "Little Red Riding Hood"

No, not the cartoon version. The 2011 Fantasy / Horror / Mystery version. What can I say about it? The lag, and the company, made it a little hard to focus on. It was nearly 2am boxing day morning when I started this movie on my horribly uncomfortable couch. Normally I'd pull out the bed in the couch, but I'm not sure if that's allowed when your company is barely legal, and you're an old lady...Never the less, I managed to get through it and find it somewhat enjoyable. The real mystery came from the fact that you think you know what it's all about from the 400 times you heard the fairy tale as a kid. I spent a good part of the movie saying "it's the Grandma - it's always the Grandma!" and of course it wasn't the Grandma. I wanted to believe it was the huntsman, but we all know she gets saved by the huntsman. In the end I don't think I even cared who it was who was killing everyone, and after you found out, it took another 20 minutes for the movie to end - with the mini sex scene the only redeeming feature. One thing I must say about it though - they picked a good actress. Not because she's a good actress, but because Amanda Seyfried has indeed perfected the 'shock horror' eye popping look. In fact I'm not sure there was a time when she didn't appear mortified, horrified, or mystified. "My Grandma, what big eyes you have." "All the better for proving we're related and getting roles in so-called horror movies!"

Number Two: "War Horse" (2011)

When: 3pm Boxing day

Location: Cinema

Company: My gorgeous office girlfriend.

Verdict: good girly movie. Cried when the horses got hurt. Cried at the thought of people going to war. Cried at all the happy war is over type moments. Ok. I lied. I didn't cry, but I so woulda if I was at home alone. I did physically do the eye covering thing at a few gory moments (somehow realistic gory moments are so much harder to look at than the ones, say, from the next movie...)

Number Three: "My Bloody Valentine"

When: 11pm Boxing Day

Location: Techie's houbse - in 3D!

Company: Techie.

Verdit: Nice amount of mystery mixed in with all the gore. Pretty cool in 3D. Didn't pick the ending - so that's always nice. Was a nice message to make me feel bad about my shitty parenting and use of the Facebook babysitter - but I was pleased to find my daughter hand't been hacked to death when I returned home. 

Number Four: "I don't know how she does it" (2011)

All the whens and wheres etc: My place. Lunch Time. On my lonesome. 

How did I even come about downloading this movie? Sarah Jessica Parker and Pierce Brosnan pretending to not be sluts. Mum with adoring husband tries to juggle work and kids. Blah. Apart from the missing partner, sounds remarkably like my life anyway. Except for our differing concepts of parenting. And work. And love. Anyway... it was bearable - made slightly more so by the PIP of my WiiActive Workout.

Number Five: "Wii Active workout ONE"

Over kinda quickly. Proved how unfit I was as I strained my calf muscle in the first round of skipping. But the rest was good. Supposedly burned 108 Kcal which I have no idea what that means, except to say that I have eaten about that in one yoghurt icecream, so I refuse to eat anything else for the rest of the day. Also, I am concerned that tomorrow's reading will be considerably less as my new carpet has made my Wii Balance Board decide (after my work out) that I now only weigh 48kg (which I know must be wrong) compared to the 55kg it thought I weighed on the wood floors. As much as I love you carpet, I also don't trust you.

Number Six: "Hawke"

It's been on my hard-drive for ages now. And I always thought it was about helicopters and aeroplanes and other boring fighty stuff. Turns out it was about Bob Hawke and politics - and equally boring concept. I paid about as much attention to it as I do to politics in general, and still have little understanding about who is attending what party (I like the word attending - it makes it seem more fun). Anyway - another movie only made appealing by the sex scenes, although I must admit, a sex scene between my Offspring alter ego (yes, I am Nina Proudman) and a beer chugging, old, poly - not really something I'll ask to see again.

And now... I'm off to watch "One Day" which is looking promising already, despite the music suggesting it might be a love story. But that's ok - because I need to get all these thoughts of sex out of my head and be reminded how hideous love is.

Time

If time travel were possible I could procrastinate at more convenient times of the day, thus changing the title of my actions to resting instead of avoiding. I am currently procrastinating from sleeping for no real reason other than the knowledge that I have to get up at 6:30am and pretend to be professional.
Assuming, unlike most models of possible time travel, that only one of me ever existed, I would be able to use this wide awake time at a later point for something useful like report writing or house cleaning. And, after all that exhausting work I could return to this point in time or, ideally, a few hours prior to now and fall fast asleep.
While I know there are gaps in this theory, gaps which I could try to close with a few flow charts, Venn diagrams, and a little more rambling, I concede that as my sentences get ridiculously longer and more impossible to follow, so too would any further communication and therefore I must give your poor brain a chance to heal from the damage I have already inflicted upon it.
And with that I will sleep and wake in 5.5 hours to attempt to make it a whole day fluffing my way through a job which is far beyond my actual qualifications (not the silly sort you find on paper) but fun none the less.
Yes, I am back... Let's see how long it lasts.

Addictions

It would seem I have an addictive personality. That is to say I am prone to getting addicted to things. Not that my personality is addictive. Like chocolate. Or nicotine. That would be a bit of a pretentious opener, wouldn't you say? Although, some might say that even having to explain the difference makes me a tad conceited.

Either way, I'm sure I could rattle off a much larger list of things I have been addicted to than the list of things that have been addicted to me - and I've been addicted to things that are not particularly appealing or good for me. Like smoking. Procrastination. And relationships with jobless, homeless, emotionally unstable, financially retarded, educationally challenged... oops sorry, where was I?

Brownies (I'm great at these TEEL paragraphs). It's my latest addiction. The reason for this post. And not because I think you need to hear about my love affair with their chocolately goodness. But because I need a distraction from them. They are consuming me. And I want to be consuming them. It all began last weekend... [insert dreamy flashback music and a little haze].

The Friday before last I was informed that our office would be having morning tea for a colleague (and friend) who was having a birthday. As excited as I was, I got a little anxious when I realised this friend had a gluten intolerance, which meant if I didn't want her throwing up on her birthday it might be a nice idea to cook something gluten free (because everything I've ever bought that is gluten free has tasted like crap). And so began my experimentation with cooking gluten free brownies.

The first batch was amazing. I had no idea gluten free could taste so good! I was so excited that I had decided to experiment before hand. It meant the whole batch could be consumed by myself and my (not so) mini-me. We were hooked.

The second batch was cooked mid week in preparation for a house in weekend craziness. The recipe said they would keep for three to four days. I thought I would test the theory on Wednesday, see if they were still edible by Saturday, and if they were I could create the real batch before taking all of the furniture out of my house (my mission for that weekend). Unfortunately, as you may well guess, there were none left by Saturday and so I could not test the theory.

The third batch was cooked on Sunday amidst the household schmozzle - ready for the party on Monday. They went rock hard. I'm not sure what I missed. I didn't cook them as long. But the were certainly not fit for sharing with my peers. And so we (and by we I mean mainly the neighbourhood kids who apparently never get fed) ate the lot.

The fourth, fifth, and yes, sixth batches also came out of Sunday. Here I was thinking that there wouldn't be time or space for cooking for the party. But as it turned out I got all the furniture out of the whole house in one day and was left with four rooms completely void of entertainment, seating or even bedding; two rooms packed to the brim and un-walk-through-able; and a fully working kitchen. In fact apart from the practice brownie cooking, this may have been the first time the functionality of the kitchen actually called to me. It said "you've got nothing else to do now - you may as well use me". And I did.

I think I took two batches to school on Monday. I'm not sure if, like cigarettes, they taste like shit, and I'm so lost in the delusion that I can't live without them, or if there were more there than I thought. But I had a couple for breakfast, a few at our morning tea. One with lunch. Some after school. And was still picking on them today. I get the feeling I'm the only one eating them. But I can't stop.

I know there are still more at school. Waiting for me for breakfast tomorrow. But before I starting writing this post I cooked another batch. I know. I have a problem. But I just can't stop. And this blog entry is nearly over. And I just know... that the minute I stop writing... I'm going to fill... my belly... to the point of bursting... on those delicious... gluten free... chocolately... sugary... gooey... but crunchy.. yummmmmmmmy... brownies.

HELP!

Achoo!

Have you ever had a bottle of glue with the little nozzle thingy and let it dry up a little. And then you use it you have to pull out the rubbery sticky part that has dried up in the nozzle. It stretches, and stretches and then snaps out, splashing a little bit of wet glue in your face... I had a similar experience yesterday. With a booger.

That's right. I've got a cold. It's nothing exciting. Nothing really blog worthy, but it's an experience I wanted to share. I hope you feel better for it ;)

F^$% off

Time for a list. A list of people, things and situations that I would like to say a big fat 'Fuck Off' to:

Firstly, to the dog who not only has no spatial awareness and feels the need to break both of my kneecaps every time she jumps on the bed, but who also spent the whole of last night making licking noises in the air. I'm not talking about the lapping up water kinda sound I'm talking the sucking something juicy out of their arsehole kinda sound. I nearly vomitted.

Secondly, to the child who knew I'd been kept awake all night, and (even after waking me the night before whilst sneaking out to watch the lunar eclipse at 4am) decided that on my day off she needed to bang around the house for an hour and 15 minutes before leaving for school just to make sure I didn't even get a minute worth of sleep in.

to the carpet company who said they'd call at 9am and didn't call until I called them at midday to tell them they hadn't called.

to Windows 7 and your Aero quirks which I'm sure I will love when I get used to you, but not when you're closing screens and popping up this and asking for administrator permissions for that while I'm trying to figure out how to fix the issue with my report writing system that the techies couldn't solve for me.

to the 107 clients who need end of financial year statements about crap they didn't do and things that nobody could be bothered keeping a record of, even though they're not even going to read the statements or use them to better their lives any time in the near future.

to the inventors of coffee for making it so addictive that I'd had 7 cups before noon.

and to the makers of cigarettes for NOT finding the part that makes you burn more calories than you could possibly take in in a day and marketing that part minus all the cancery shit.

to the kid who let her fish (amongst other things) die in her bedroom and didn't tell anyone so that they guy who eventually came to quote for the carpet had to run dry reaching out of here.

to the inventor of Doritos for making them so moreish (as opposed to Moorish as I wrote somewhere else - although they do sound Spanish), and to my teeth for being too brittle to handle Doritos, and to myself for continuing to eat Doritos despite my increasing lack of teeth.

to my pantry for not providing me with anything other than Doritos and coffee.

to the supermarket carpark for always being full (at least full to the distance I'm prepared to walk) and to myself for being such a lazy bitch.

to the 2 cars that stole the only 2 viable carparks, the 4 cars that cut me off on the way to the supermarket and the 17 cars that cut me off on the way back home (14 of whom deserve this message just for driving 4 wheel drives around town).

to the three cars that put their right blinker on at the lights after I'd pulled up behind them, the 47 cars driving 20kms per hour below the speed limit, and the one (or possibly two, who'd know) motorbike riders travelling in my blind spot

to the Laminex place for being stupidly over priced, in the wrong state, and only open until 4pm on weekdays.

to the ATO for being completely void of customers and yet still ridiculously slow, and for making me too scared to even own a birth certificate let alone frame it.

to AAMI for not letting you pay through internet banking, and then deciding to shut down all their branches without any warning, but more to the point for not even taking the furniture out of the shop so that - even after the 4th lap around the block looking for a park in a street that has more fancy flagpoles than parks, and ending up having to walk for 15 minutes to get to the shop - I didn't even realise until my hand was on the doorhandle that the place wasn't even open! And being informed by the tacky piece of paper on the door that it was shut for good and that someone would be happy to take my call but only after it had rung for 27 rings only to find that the person wasn't, as the sign suggested, happy at all to speak to me, but quite possibly due to the fact that I was spitting down the phone in disgust at the culmination of a nothing working kinda day.

to the dashboard in my car for not registering how much petrol I have, and for finally letting me know somewhere on my third lap of AAMI that I was out of petrol, and to the people who set the prices for petrol so high that $60 can't even last me - a person with no life - a week.

to Optus mobile for never having working internet when you need it, but always having working internet when you're trying hard not to procrastinate by playing Words with Friends or Angry Birds.

to my GPS for giving me no co-ordinates at all

to Google Maps for giving me the wrong co-ordinates

to bullets, numbered lists and all the other messed up things that want to completely put all my hard work formatting to waste.

to the people bragging on Facebook about how awesome their long weekend was because their job is finished for the day and they can spend the whole weekend relaxing

or worse, to the people who have the same job as me, and choose to rub my nose in the fact that they've finished all the reports they had to write.

and finally (for this installment) to the people to wait until you're really down and out, are feeling anxious and perhaps a little suicidal, to pounce on your facebook statuses with comments that include the words "boo" "concrete" or "suck it up princess"

Well, that got a few things off my chest. Like the fact that I've used the bullet function. Next time I'll have to test out the numbered list...

Excuses, Excuses

Ok enough of the stupid posts catching up on my day to day life. Now it's time instead for another annoying 'dear diary' kind of entry. That's right. The one where I make excuses to myself (because I'm still under no grand illusions that anyone is reading) for not writing in over a month. The only thing is I know I will talk myself out of these excuses leaving me just feeling guilty.

Excuse Number One:

I have been busy.

We all know that's a lie. My life consists of this:this:
and every now and then a little:
Any of which could always include a little

Excuse Number Two:
I have had nothing interesting happening in my life. That is not a lie. And yet, as one of my thousands of readers pointed out - I never have anything interesting happening in my life. I did sob on the couch for a good 15 minutes after that little gem of inspiration. Then I realised they were correct. Maybe it was because I had too much happening. Pfft who's gunna believe that.
Excuse Number Three:
I'm so busy at work I'm just drained when I get home. Again. Not true - I had a whole 2 weeks in there somewhere where my only job was to watch someone else do my job and let them know if they did ok. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, if you're doing my job and the scenario doesn't look at all like this...
...you're doing just fine.

But seriously. Considering I haven't been locked in a room half filled with people on some serious drugs, half filled with people in need of serious drugs, been called up to the boss's office or had my car planked on in weeks, I consider myself quite lucky and considerably stress free at work of late.
Excuse Number Four:
I acknowledge the fact that no-one wants to read my drivel, and have also come to the conclusion that feeding my multiple personality disorder by imagining that my other personalities are reading and therefore getting some insight into my life, and hoping that one day they will return the favour so I can understand me, is a bordering on the crazy side and perhaps I should just calm down on the whole blogging thing for a while. I like this last possibility. Even if it is a hard sentence to read. Go on. Try it again, I'll wait...
elevator music
... do, doodoodoo, do do doo doodoo ...
Conclusion:
I don't have a conclusion. But I do have an excuse FOR finally getting back in to the swing of things. Let me spell it out for you:
Pro...
...
cras...
...
tin...
...
a...
...
tion.
That's right - it's the end of the financial year and I have a mountain of homework. Yup... 21 years of schooling and I'm still doing homework. Well, that is a lie. 21 years of schooling and I'm still expected to be doing homework. And I'm still mucking around with technology instead.
So, think yourself lucky other personalities... if it weren't for homework, you'd have nothing to read right now.

Life's a Circus.

Ok - time for another boring catch up blog. I feel like I have been very neglectful in my writing here. My only excuse is that my life is so awesomely amazing that I find it hard to find ways to talk about what has happened without making you guys jealous :P - and I just haven't had the time to put in that amount of effort over the last few weeks. Hence the short, boring, pictureless posts.
Today's post has the potential to be very similar. It's 7pm on a Sunday night and I'm ready to hit the hay. I may have spent a fair amount of time last night doing circus tricks. Or maybe that is the alcohol clouding my memory. Regardless - I am quite tired, and sore in spots I can't quite understand. Surely I wasn't doing headstands - it's been well over 20 years since I watched telly from the comfort of the couch, up-side-down. None-the-less, my memory of last night looks something like this:

Any explanation of that picture might have to be decoded at a later date.

Happy Mother's Day

Just a VERY quick post. Had a lovely day hanging with my Mummy watching movies and eating junk food. Then out for dinner and a lot of wine. Couldn't really ask for more really.

On the flip side however - Google's lovely flowery Happy Mother's Day = much more sincere than my own daughter's "happy Mum's day" and fall back to sleep on the couch.

Quick Read

I have a confession to make. It has been over three years since I have read a book. How do I, a person who has to write a blog to remember what happened yesterday, know this? I only own and read a very select range of books. Bryce Courtenay books to be exact. These books are a tradition gift. A birthday present every year from a person who is very special to me. I know it's been three years since reading my last book because I have a bookmark about one chapter in to the book with the writing in the front "Happy 27th birthday xoxoxo". I'm a little ashamed to admit it. Both for the reason that as a professional I am assumed to be well read. However, apart from emails, blogs and the 400 Facebook status updates I read a day, I am a very uncultured, non-ready type person. And the other reason to be ashamed - these gifts, which I cherish, are just that - gifts. And I should appreciate the thought with atleast one reading of the book... surely?

Tongue Thai`ed

I got Thai takeaway for dinner on the way home from work tonight. Yup - 4 days in to my fitness fad and I'm buying takeaway for dinner. But I figure they're a generally healthy, skinny looking people. Right? Anyway - it reminded me of my theory that the people that run stores of a different ethnicity to the country they are in kinda put on their accents a little to make their product more appealing / authentic. That's right. I said it. My last two dealings with this particular Thai restaurant have consolidated this theory.

Let me explain this cute little cafe looking takeaway store. It has room to seat about 6 people in the summer and 5 people waiting for food in the winter. The kitchen is quite possibly smaller than my own - about the size of a disabled toilet. There is often laughter and lots of words that aren't English coming from within this kitchen. A 3 year old child runs around the waiting room most nights and watches television at the counter. She obviously belongs to one of the ladies in the kitchen as the girl on the counter is only about 14 years old. She speaks English like an Aussie, but is obviously a relative of one of the ladies in the kitchen. I'm sucked in to the authenticity of the food and culture by the cook's obvious lack of English as she now recognises me but never serves me - indicating that I should wait until the English speaking relative comes to take my order.

This was the first place I had ever ordered Thai from. I had no idea what I should eat, but everyone was raving about Thai food so I figured it must be done. I reckon the girl would have been about 12 years old then, and as far as customer service went, she was a breath of fresh air in this town full of smarmy arrogant teenagers. She kindly ran me through the whole menu - explaining what I might like if I were the kind of person who liked sweet food, or spicy food etc. I walked out with Pad Thai with chicken that day. I was in heaven! By my third visit - she would have the girls cooking my Pad Thai before I made it from my car to the counter - and with her guidance I began trying things, and loving everything I tried.

Two visits ago I was greeted yai in the doorway to the kitchen with her cheeky little giggle and a hand telling me to wait. But where was my gorgeous little helper? She did not appear. Instead a man in his late 20s / early 30s with a slightly thicker accent greeted me. I figured. This is no time to order anything crazy - I'll just go for my usual - Pad Thai with chicken and those veggies, oh shit, what are they called? Fried veggies - with a batter? I'm fumbling and looking like an idiot - flicking through the menu trying to find them... He's looking at me blankly. "Vegetables? We no fry vegetables." Phew. I find it. I point dubiously to the Pak Tod. "A serve of this, the number 16, please." He writes it down. I hide in the car until my order is ready.

Tonight I was determined to be confident and just order what I knew and loved, and not let this imaginary language barrier hinder me. I walked in. Was faced with the same guy. I walked to the counter. And clearly said: "Pad Thai with chicken, and a serve of Pak Tod please." Simple I thought. "What's that?" he asks, "Pack Todd?" My face goes bright red. Have I said it wrong? What's it called then? Have I sworn at him? I fumble around in the menu looking for it. Ah, there it is: Pak Tod, just as I said. I point to him. "Pak Tod please." He acknowledges what I'm pointing at. "Oh, Pak Tod - Tod means fried." Remembering the last time I saw him I thought - well fucking dahhh! That's why I asked for fried vegetables last time.

My conclusion is this: maybe generalising for all take away food workers is a little too close to racist, but, at least for this situation, it would appear that either I knew more Thai than the Thai guy in the Thai shop or he was using the imaginary language barrier (which is most obviously imaginary - as we both speak ONLY English) to cover up for the fact that he had no idea of what the shop sells, let alone how to pronounce any of the dishes. The upside? My yummy Thai style fried noodles and chicken, and fried vegetables with sweet chili sauce.

Bathers, Biggest Losers, and Bloggers.

Today's post begins with a picture. Except for that last sentence. And that one. Oh fuck it. Here's the picture:Hardly worth the build up really. But as you may have guessed, this blog entry is coming to you directly from my bath. Please notice the beautifully tiled floor (and refrain from trying to figure out where my boobs are - I couldn't quite figure that out either). That's how I imagine the tiling project I started over a year ago would look if I ever decided to finish it. I mean, I did most of the house to look like that. But I got as far as the bathroom and decided it was just far too much work. And now all I have is a slightly dinted concrete floor.

But that's not what I'm here to write about. I'm blogging from my bath because I am trying to figure out how to enjoy bathing. Don't get me wrong. I like to be clean. Love a nice long hot shower. But I can't quite seem to get in to the swing of a relaxing soak in the tub. I think I get swept up in the hype of it because everyone else enjoys it. And I find myself looking forward to winding down amid candles and warm water. But by the time my whole body is wet, I'm clammy and bored, and just itching to get in the shower and get to bed.

Tonight I am determined to stay. Despite the fact that my stupily long pinky finger-nail keeps hitting shift and up before enter - effectively deleting the last line of every paragraph and making me write it again (damn you Blogspot - get an 'undo' button). We can only hope that by the end of this entry I have either begun to enjoy having a bath, or at the very least, refrained from electrocuting myself.

I bought a new game today. I've been considering blogging about it all day, but have refrained for fear of looking any more nerdy, and turning this blog into a games review page. But I am still not yet enjoying this bath (possibly due to the fact that I am now leaning half out of the bath to avoid getting the lap top wet). So I will fill you in.

I am trying, amid the mountains of chocolate easter bunnies and the mandatory morning coffee (which upon returning to work has turned into 'coffees') to take up some kinda health kick again. I'm not quite sure why. It had no obvious benefit to me when I tried it this January and February and part of March. I got no slimmer, was just as tired, and was, for the most part, just more hungry and irritable. But people seem to swear by this whole being healthy thing, and as the child won't let me take up smoking again I figure I may as well start swinging the complete opposite direction.

I bought a whole heap of frozen weightwatchers type meals. They taste like shit. But they work, cos they make you feel too guilty to cook more food... And back to the point - I also bought the Wii Active upgrade and began their 6 week challenge. This game is pretty good I reckon and now comes with some warm up and warm down sessions. But on to the retarded game:

I decided to buy my friend the Wii Active upgrade and found that it was on a buy one game get one free deal at EB games. So I scanned and scanned their (minimal) selection of Wii games and settled on the Biggest Loser game. I figured what the hell - with the deal it was essentially $20 worth of game. It boasted a huge selection of workouts, but with the added benefit of Jillian and the other Yanky trainer guy's motivation. It also has a section of recipes which come with a calorie count (so that might be useful - although i have cooked from the website before and it tasted terrible). The last feature it offered was the use of the Wii Balance board to weigh you and determine the apropriate amount of calories you should be taking in each day (in relation to the workout it had set for you).

This last feature was the seller for me and I raced home to try out the game (that's a lie - I stayed out for a few more hours shopping with said friend but 'raced home' sounds a little better). I was happy to find, firstly, that I weighed a kg less than yesterday. Or maybe it was because I took my shoes off. I was also pleased to find I had a good 1300 odd calories to play with each day (although I had no idea what that meant). I played around with some websites to add up the calories I had taken in today, and was estatic to find that despite it being after dinner I was still a good 600 calories to eat today. Woot. Chocolate Easter Bunny for desert!

The actual game began by creating an avatar for me. I had no choice in the matter - after putting in my 54kg of weight I was given a 200kg avatar. Ok. I can deal with this. I'll just imagine the real me is inside this exoskeleton much like the alien inside the alien on tonight's movie - Independence Day. Then it turns out it doesn't matter any way - the only time you get a glimpse of your avatar is when Jillian gets her fat arse out of the way and you sneak a peak of yourself working out in the background.

So, the work out begins. And they are pretty simple steps which work ok to get your heart pumping. Side steps. Squats. Star jumps. Pushups. One excercise on the wii balance board, one off. I can handle this. I'm watching the calorie count go up and hoping that the game will get more and more enjoyable as I burn some more calories. I'm waiting for music to begin. Or a bit of encouragement from Jillian. "You're a star", "Keep it up!" Nothing. All I've got is elevator music and Jillian saying (every second or third or even fourth rep) "Up." "Down." But I persevered as the picture of the wii balance board kept telling me "perfect" "perfect" as I repped to the beat of the vibrating wiimote. At least I was doing the workout right. Or was I? An itchy nose and I was off beat. "Perfect". A pause for a second to get a glimpse of whether my avatar was doing the workout correctly. "Perfect". I completely stop to have a drink. "Perfect". Sitting on the couch eating the chocolate bunny calories I'd been granted. "Perfect." "Perfect." "Perfect." Stuff this. I exited the game after two circuits (she was ready to put me through more, but who knew how many and I was about to fall asleep mid star jump). I was, however, happy to note that the game congratulated me on completing a whole workout.

Don't get me wrong. I love being bored to death while I work out, especially when working out isn't really my favourite thing to do. I just would have thought that a fitness game designed for morbidly obese people might have a few less ways to cheat. I'm just saying that encouraging me to eat more and then letting me watch someone else's slow paced mundane workout might not help me lose any weight. But what would I know. I'm no holder of two personal training certificates.

So, the story ends like this. I gave Jillian the flick. I ate the rest of my chocolate bunny, and hung out with my awesome new Wii Active trainer for half an hour. I danced, sweated and enjoyed my workout, and decided to 'reward' my efforts with a nice long bath. And here we are back at the start. I'll admit that I didn't last in the bath for the whole blog. But then I write a fair amount of stupid stuff which needs deleting and rewording, so I figured 2 hours in the bath might be a little crazy. I stayed just long enough to put more hot water in three times, and prune up ever so slightly. I also stayed long enough to realise that baths should be left to the lovers of baths just as the Biggest Loser should just be left to the losers.

Disappointed

Just another quick note to say that I am a little disappointed that, while not expecting my poor attempt at a blog to draw in many readers, a good friend of mine is still not following me. Despite me having read and commented on just about every blog post she wrote. Despite having linked to her blog in my side-bar. Despite loving her guts.
And if you can't see that I have a smile on my face as I type this you are obviously not her (but don't let that stop you...). <--- I think that punctuation is not really allowed, but I like it better than any punctuationally correct version I could come up with.
I'm just going to see how long it takes to get a bite from that one.

Lame

It's 5pm and I'm the last one leaving my building at work. I stayed back late, not only to clean up a section of our office, but to email everyone to apologise in advance if I've offended them by cleaning.
What could possibly be sadder than this? Perhaps the fact that I'm blogging about it. From my smart phone in the car on the way home from work.

Stuck in another loop

Omg no

Just a quick post. I've discovered blogging from my phone. I fear the quality of my writing might get overtaken by quantity alone. I apologise in advance.
Now to find a program that will let me draw as well...

Damn you Facebook

Got a little high on first-day-back-ness today. As I sat in my newly furnished room avoiding using proxies to check my facebook (even though I had my phone in the room), I had the sudden urge to be humourous.

For fear of big noting myself I think maybe it worked. And like a proud kinder student coming home to mummy - I will have to get this one stuck to the fridge. I may never be able to achieve funny again. Ok, maybe I'm pushing it for more that it's worth, but I'm going to post it here. You don't have to find it in any way shape or form interesting or funny. But this is the first time I have tried to make a non-mundane point in a work email without instantly regretting it and wishing there was a 'remove this post' button (like my beloved Facebook).

The following (in Blue) is the email I received from my superior (with some slightly adjusted italic words to make me feel better about my crap attempt to keep my job a mystery); and (in Yellow) the reply which I inserted around the orginal email:

Choofa90 wishes workplace emails were more like Facebook.

Dear colleagues - a couple of points to ponder:

1. What would we like to do about our new office arrangements? Do we need anything further?

Choofa90 says JF and I plan to put a table between our desks to store some of the work we plan to put off until the end of the financial year. I am happy to be rid of the ugly filing cabinet on the other side of my desk if this is ok with TH who also shares this space. 3 likes and it's gone.

2. I am endeavouring to talk to management about rearranging some interview rooms so hopefully you will have to move less.

Choofa90 knows of an empty room and might just move all her meetings into there without the head honcho's say so.

3. The projectors we ordered are here and nearly ready for use, assuming we can get some software installed and training on their operation.

Choofa90 likes this.

Choofa90 wishes she could like things twice and, considering her love of technology, would be happy to help others learn where the 'on' button is.

4. I have two bottles of spray and wipe above my desk - please use freely on clients (hardly worth trying to disguise it any more is it) who deface the new property.

Choofa90 likes this.

Choofa90 says sorry for filling up your wall with my geeky 'likes', but endeavours to make sure all wall writing in future is kept to the virtual world.

5. There are a number of repairs still to be made to walls after the electricians (no, seriously, he said electricians - I just thought their in-ability to effectively complete the work of an electrician required the use or air quotes - but the effect is not as good on paper, and so I am chosing italics) have been through. Expect some further disruption at some point when painting/patching takes place.

Choofa90 says that's fine, but could you make sure the ones working in my room are vaguely pleasing to the eye or within a half pervable age range.

Choofa90 retracts last statement, and apologises - it's just hard to get out of holiday mode.

Your boss

Like I said, not hillarious, but the boss laughed. And my day was complete.

Revelation!

Ok. It's nothing huge, but I need something to start enticing people... Yes, I am reduced to slightly misleading catchword titles.

I did have a mini revelation tonight. For the first time in over 4 years I read two or three statuses and was bored with Facebook. That's right. You heard it here first. 28 game requests and I couldn't even be bothered clicking on one of them to accept my gift or play that game. Alternately though I couldn't resist the urge to blog about it. Hell, what else was I going to do with my time. The television is on, but I'm not sure I know how to just watch television any more. I have a mountain of work beside me that has remained untouched for three weeks. But I'm not that bored. My house is a mess, but that would require getting off my fat arse. So, blogging it is. And just as this whole blogging endeavour began - I have nothing to blog about.

I got some new furniture at work today. Again, I realise, not worth reading about, but I have to have some place to secretly admit that I was so overwhelmed that I had to duck in to a storeroom to have a little cry. God forbid I ever rocked up at work to find a shitload of stationery on my desk. I imagine it would look a little like this.

Holidays Scmolidays

Ok. The holiday is over - and it's time to get this blogging out of my system before work goes back and I forget all about it. If you've been following previous posts you will notice I was going to recount every second of my holidays, but now I think I can do week two of holidays in 25 words or less:

Laziness, movies, House of Pask, shoulda been drunk, cafe furniture moving, sleep, Facebook, Jesus died, alcohol finally / excessively, brain explosion, treasure hunt, chocolate, chocolate, sleep.

I'm going to skip the pic for this one for fear of some people (who might have lost their marbles in the last few days of the holiday) reading too much into it. And moving on...

2nd last day of holiday:

Sensible me decides this should be the day to leave. I wanted to give myself enough time to clean up the house I had been inhabiting (kindly donated, complete with dog, by the gorgeous Soleil), and amble on home along the scenic route. I also was desperately in need of a day at home to get my footing and prepare (set up the paper bags for hyperventilating) to go back to my ever exciting job. The catch to all these good intentions? Facebook. And for once I'm not even just talking about me. Some stupid person had decided to negate the 13+ rules and allow their daughter on Facebook. And now I know what I look like. Needless to say between across room FBchatting, farms, and Zombies, we didn't get off the couch until 3pm. A quick clean. Pack the car. In Oakleigh to tie up some loose ends by 6:30. I was ready to crash. And so I did. At the house of Pask. Thank goodness for primary school friends. I fell asleep to the dulcet tones of a thief in the night, and an upset coffee maker.

Final [breathe] Day [in] of [breathe] Holidays [out]:

Time for another film strip.

After wasting so much time on that beautifully cryptic explanation of today's events, I'm considering leaving you to ponder this (while I continue to hyperventilate at the less than 12 hours 'til work goes back). But I can imagine the pain that I would be in should a similarly boring friend tease me with clues about their day but not provide the riveting storyline to complete it.

1. I began the day with bacon and eggs. Yes. That's bacon and eggs. I love friends. Friends who cook, despite being up in time for McDonald's breakfast.

2. I couldn't even give this drawing a good attempt. Even drawing it freaked me out. It is the snake we found whilst taking a walk at a rest area on the way home. It could almost be the next frame too.... if you get my drift. Honestly I almost coulda shit myself. I have never been so irrationally afraid of something in my life - despite my thalassophobia. I grabbed the child and flung her out of the way (I had no words). But I continued to hold her, nails breaking skin, to the point where it was quite obvious I was using her as my protection. I spent the next three minutes crying, vomiting, and laughing at my own stupidity all at once.

3. Thankful to be home in my cold messy house, I thought it was about that time of year that the heater should be re-lit. It's not working. Dust. Cough. It's not working. Cough. Closer look. What the hell is wrong with it? Checks plug. Listens for sound of gas. Mmmm can't hear gas. But wait - is that the pilot light or not? BANG! No eyebrows.

And there ends my holiday goodness. Please Lord, create a rip in time and let us all wake up tomorrow in another set of holidays!

Easter Bunny - the answer

The answer to the last post is:

Wait til the kid's in the toilet quickly line all the chocolate up from the hallway to where you are sleeping.

Feign sleep.

Look surprised when she says "they weren't there when I went to the toilet!"

Wonder how long she will think it is magic (now that she's already 3 years beyond believing in the Easter Bunny).

Now I just tell her Jesus brings the chocolate. Then if she finds out I am Jesus, that's hell of a lot better than her thinking I'm a lame old bunny!

Easter Bunny

What happens if the Easter Bunny is just too tired?

Company, Commercialism, Comedy.

Firstly a big shout out to my amazing sister, Pudge, for making this post possible. Secondly - let me introduce you to my good friend Pippi. Pipi has many names, but for the purposes of this blog I would like to think of her as Pippi - as I believe this is the personality I was in the fine company of this past weekend. Both of these gorgeous girls thankfully share my desire for a good hard laugh after 10 weeks of brain numbing work. And for this I am very thankful.

And so begins Day Eight of holiday goodness...

After a very interesting phone-call directing Pippi through the streets of the city, and all the way out to the SE suburbs we were ready to turn right round again and head back to the city. We donned our citiest faces and headed for the train station. I was so excited to be spending the day with Pippi as she now lived around 6 hours away from me. As we sat at the train station picking on the way kids act to try to big note themselves, I realised this was the kind of friend ship that a coupla hundred kilometeres was not going to squish quickly. An hour later we were in the city and without any hesitation, or need for communication, we headed for the one thing that had cemented our relationship all those years ago... Starbucks. We then got the rest of our Capitalism on, visiting Typo, Borders and anywhere selling boots. After pretending to get lost for a little while, taking some fake photos to completely consolidate our tourist style looks, and admiring the creativity of the pub named the Fluid Oz, we were on our way to the comics lounge to redeem my awesome 30th birthday gift from Pudge.

We arrived with plenty of time to get our drink on. I on the fruit tingles and Pippi on the Coronas. We ate and talked and waited with anticipation for the giggles to begin. I don't want to retell the whole night, but it was quite funny. Tom Seigert MCed. I could take him or leave him. Then to start the show off they brought in a ring-in: Gabriel Rossi - who was doing a few songs from his show "Melbourne the Musical". They were very funny and it was interesting to watch the different ways Pippi and I laughed at the different regions of Melbourne. We both laughed at the Northern Suburbs in unison. While I laughed at the Western Suburbs, she laughed with the Western suburbs, and vice versa for the Eastern side. Had Pippi stayed in town I definitely would have seen that show the next night. Then were the two headliners.

Bob Franklin was his ever gorgeous (yet slightly older looking) self with his little witty comments and things so obvious that people weren't expecting them. Pippi and I both pissed ourselves laughing at the ego joke, and in retrospect it's not even that funny. I love him from the days of Jimeoin and Bob's Cooking Show, and of course The Librarians

Dave Callan was next. He had a very similar sense of humour. His final act was pretty funny. But here's a taste of his stand up if you've never seen him.

THEN... Just as things were rapping up they introduce two guys from USA who are headed back the next day and just wanted to pop in. They ended up talking for just as long as Dave and Bob. Unfortunately I can't remeber the first guy's name. Because he was completely blown out of the water by Gabriel Iglesias. I'm not even going to retell any of it, because I know that when you click the link you will be stuck on YouTube for hours!

Needless to say Pippi and I had an awesome time and after realising that our tram had another half an hour before leaving we decided to head back up to the bar for a few more drinks to keep us warm on our trip. An hour or two later we were seriously weighing up whether to go out to a few other clubs with some people from the bar or catch the last train home. We left it to fete. Stumbling out of the Comedy Club we jumped on the first tram which actually took us to Flinders. We wandered around flinders getting lost down all the sections that were now closed for the night, took our time in the toilets, and still managed to get on that last train home. But it didn't matter that we hadn't continued on. We had enjoyed ourselves so much.

I just wish I could draw a picture of how much my stomach and jaw hurt from all the smiling that day.

Holidays part two - Dizzee Rascal Style

Ok, I have no idea what or who a Dizzee Rascal is. But aparently he also has a song called Holiday. Perhaps it's because he lives in a hole and didn't realise that Madonna had already done it. And, unlike her deep and meaningful lyrics about how 'nice' and 'world changing' a holiday can be, his much more powerful rhymability almost makes me want to turn this blog in to a poem as I resume my holiday story telling...

Day Five (Wednesday, cos I'm starting to lose count):

Wednesday was a down day. A day to remind myself that I was on holiday. It is not worth writing about. But looked a little like this:

Now, I hope you're not trying to be smart and read between the lines here. Day five was a glorious day of laziness. And the words? Well, they are the stamps I bought from Typo the previous day which I spent the day practicing to use strategically in the work place.

Day Six (Thursday):

Drove in to the city and parked at Docklands for the cheap parking. Decided to go the opposite way around the loop (just to spice things up, cos that's how I roll). Met a friend at Flinders and hoped to catch some comedy in Fed Square. But it started pouring down rain. So we went to the Disney exhibition instead. This was another reminder of how much more exciting things are when the internet is not your best friend. It was enjoyable. Some very interesting reading. But had I not already been in the city and wanted to know more about Walt Disney, I woulda just Googled it, scanned the pages for 3.5 minutes until I picked up on the main details, and moved on, possibly after a making some witty comment on Facebook showing how knowledgable I was (which a real friend would have picked up as meaning 'I've just been on Google').

The rest of day six included food court dinner at Southbank where I was reminded how much I love dreadlocks, but could never really bring myself to date anyone with them. We then walked all the way back to Docklands - that was exhillerating, and came back to Soleil's to play lame wii games.

Day Seven:

Friday began with a drive in to the city to drop Soleil at McDonald's to catch a ride in a Kombie with a band headed to a festival in Byron Bay. Yes. My story = pale in comparison. It was just as expected. Kids material 'curtain' on the back and side windows. Cloud of smoke. Ranga wearing thongs. Would a better friend not have pushed her into this van? Meh, she needed the excitement of it all. And I wasn't invited, so someone had to have a cool story to tell. I haven't heard from her in a week. I do hope everything's ok.

After going all the way back out to the burbs, showering, waking up etc, I decided to head back in to the city to meet a friend from high school. A friend who actually blogs interesting stuff (see sidebar - Carly). I drove half way in to the city and caught a train the rest of the way. I was surprised that I still actually miss public transport. Found my friend in the city. She doesn't look a day older than she did in high school, except she has much better taste in clothing than our daggy uniforms. I love those catch ups that just feel easy. She was great to talk to, and shop with. Hence - picture three - the most beautiful red shoes I've ever seen (perhaps slightly prettier in real life).

Carly and I grabbed some food together. She took me to a Vietnamese place. Vietnamese is Yum. I facebooked that I ate Vietnamese. The food, not the people. No-one got it. I was reminded of how nerdily unfunny I am. Carly took a pic of her food and I felt like a celebrity - like I might be part of her blog (not like the lame way she is part of mine). I was soooooo excited. We contemplated comedy, but I could sense she didn't want to make me feel any worse about my unfunniness, and so we went to a movie instead. Limiteless is cool! I tried to explain the storyline to someone who admitedly was kinda distracted. But it came out something like: "it's a movie about a guy who takes drugs and everything gets better and then it's the end." But it was much more exciting than that. So exciting in fact that I can't even explain it.

Day whatever:

I'm so bored writing this blog (possibly because it's 3am) so I doubt you are finding anything worth reading. So I will resume the rest of my holiday goodness in a future blog...

Holiday!

They say a holiday is a time to celebrate. That just one day of holiday could be so nice. That we can turn the world around and put our troubles down. Well, at least that's what Madonna thinks. And for the most part I would have to agree. While I haven't managed to turn the world around yet (Geeze Madonna, holidays are for relaxing - I'm busy making the world a better place every work day), it has indeed been nice. In fact, day 2 of my holiday was also nice. But days 3 through to 11 have been spectacular!!! And now I endeavour to bore you with their details..

Day One:

I got up late. Ate food. Just kidding - I'm not going to bore you with that much detail. Day one - I was hungover. I slept, ate, and watched TV. Yay me

Day Two:

I enjoyed day one of doing nothing so much that I did more nothing. And loved it.

$5 to anyone who can guess what day three entailed... As you can clearly see, it began with an 'armless drive through the countryside. Three hours of driving to be exact. But nothing makes a long drive go faster than a friend to gossip with. We didn't stop talking for three hours straight - even with our faces stuffed with Maccas breakfast. We arrived at Docklands right as the shops were opening and proceeded to shop just enough to feel satisfied in the knowledge that we had made useful purchases but not so much as to be too poor to enjoy the rest of the holiday. The obligatory city shop complete we downed the most amazing hot chocolate, and moved on to picture two...

Yes, that's a Simpson's character. And if you look closely they are ice-skates he is wearing. Before you think I'm being ridiculous - these two things are actually possible in the real world. And for two hours we skated like olympians, alongside Homer and Bart simpson. There was dancing, and spinning, Arabesques and Axel jumps. None of which performed by us. But we were happy in reaching our goal of making a whole lap without falling. In fact, there were no falls that day. A phenomenon made even more surprising by the fact that two of the four looping songs were something scarily Beiberesque and some retarded song about Friday... For the record: it was monday.

Despite our awesome level of fitness and desire to keep up the ever enjoyable destruction of our ankles and upper thighs, we ended our skating session just as the entire room broke into a beautifully unbalancing rendition of YMCA. We jumped on the pretty maroon (and more importantly - free) city loop tram. Checked out the boob station (Southern Cross - check it out from the top) and had our photo taken with Anubis. Ok, so maybe it was a replica, but he did look decidedly like the god of the underworld that I remember. We then completed our City Loop voyage to the Melbourne Exhibition Centre where we checked out the Tutankhamun exhibition. It was very pretty and educational, but behind all the glass and pretty lights, and writing on the wall it may have very well been a facebook fan page. Which is a hell of a lot cheaper. But the mini me and friend I was with really enjoyed it, so I'm glad I got to share the experience with them.

The final picture for the day, and might I say the most obvious? Is a slice of carot cake. We had a lovely bite to eat at Olmecs in Richmond, where the meals were simple and nice. I had food that I can't remember and a lovely glass of New Zealand wine (which I actually wish I could remember the name of). The staff were cute and very welcoming, and at one point, after a little small talk that may have suggested we had come three hours to eat at this restaurant, I think we nearly got an invitation for some accommodation. But we were too sensible for that. And so our attention turned to the desserts - to die for! I think I cried a little over my carrot cake. And I usually don't like to mix sweet and savoury. But that carrot cake spoke to me. And for some reason, that's about all I remember of that night..

Day Four:

Omg - my drawings are just getting so much better - especially people! Are you wondering why the first picture is of a semi naked person? Well, that's me. Hot huh? Ok, maybe not, but that does not take away from the fact that I spent a half decent proportion of Tuesday naked. Well, maybe it was less than an hour. But it was the best hour of my life. And the part that most people can't believe - it was my first time! My girlfriend couldn't believe it. So I'm glad I got to share it with her. And the two cute little Irish girls. That's right, there I was, in Melbourne, in a cute little Asian shop, with my very country girlfriend, getting a Swedish massage from an Irish chick.

The rest of the day was a blur. I remember floating in to a beading shop to meet up with my besty Soliel (who was minding mini me). I had all my fears confront me at once as I was locked in a self cleaning toilet for ten minutes. We went to China town for dumplings. Dropped my friend off at the train station so she could go home to where we live. And tried to exit the city.

Enter picture number two. With Soliel slightly distracted by her ipod, and me still in a state of hazy euphoria we somehow thought it would be a good idea to get to the South Eastern suburbs by continuing on down Spencer Street. We were wrong. Who would have known the difference one street could make. But, after 47 left hand turns we were 200 meters from where we started and on our way home to Soleil's.

We stopped briefly to grab her basketball gear. Watched the most thrilling game of basketball I had ever seen (possibly the only one also). Saw someone get head butted, slapped, belly bounced (that was funny), and my favourite - an elbow to the head. Then the baddies won the match and I was reminded that it wasn't a movie and felt a little bad that I had laughed at all the injuries.

And so ends cycle one of awesome holiday fun. Two days off and two days on. And while you ponder the awesomeness of these four days (and perhaps take a lesson or two in drawing as awesomely as me) I will endeavour to encapsulate the next four days of holiday 'nice'ness (as Madonna would put it).