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).

It's midnight on a Saturday. I'm in a smokin hot red dress just like the faux Columbian me from last post. And I'm sitting on the couch eating hot chips with one hand and blogging with the other. Yes. It has come to this. Dinner with people twice my age, sober to drive, home before midnight.

But there is an upside to this story. And it comes in the form of 80's/90's sitcom re-runs. I can't explain it but I get this lovely warm and fuzzy feeling in the memory of boofy hair do's, shoulder pads, and kids allowed in the bar. I think it's because I grew up with all these shows and these are the people I aspired to emulate. Like the cute naive bubbly girl who lives alone and takes in a crazy guy to train and mould like a child she can't be bothered giving birth to. Nanoo Nanoo. Or to be a local of a pub, where everyone knows my name, and drinking in the middle of the day is not a sin. But, the show that influenced me the most was a show with much higher standards...

Roseanne. Everyone's favourite psychopathic mother. I have a feeling my sole reason for having a child may have been to see if I could be as cool as Roseanne. So far, I have managed to get the scream down pat. "Deeeee jayyyyyy" (not that I have a kid called DJ, but I did use similar vowel sounds when naming my child - possibly another subconscious TV driven decision). In fact, the only way I differ from Roseanne in the mothering department would be that I learnt the line: "Birth control that really works: every night before we go to bed we spend an hour with our kids," before having a second child!

But it wasn't just that crazy loud mouthed character that formed a part of my psyche. As I rewatch the show (from a much different perspective) I realise I have taken aspects from everyone's lives. The dark, brooding teenager, Darleen. The desire to be with a guy named Mark, taken from Becky's influences. The confusion in the thought that I called the lesbian card on the Aunt for five years before they finally introduced a gay character and it turned out to be the creepy big lipped shemale which really defeated the whole 'gays are normal people' moral to the story Roseanne was going for. However, it did somehow give me hope that no matter how ugly I got and how much botox I had to use to fix that, there would always be someone out there of some gender who would love me for who I was. But, thanks to the male subserviant characters in the show I was also given a desire to find a mate that I could either tread all over like David, or scream at for an hour like Dan but inevitably always win against.

Yes. I am aware how horrible a person this makes me out to be. But I don't care. Someone thought these characters were good enough to create. And apparently more Americans enjoyed this show per year than there is total people in Australia. Which means that if I have emulated each of them just a tiny little bit, I must not only be humerous, I must also be popular. At least, that's what I'll keep telling myself and my one reader...