August 13th, 2008


Nothing postworthy

I'm quite disappointed with Seven's Olympics coverage. So much so, in fact, that last night after I watched Liesl Jones' race and post race stuff for the third time in three hours, I actually changed channels and watched something else. I watched some crappy comedy on Channel 9. I'm really pissed off that Seven is ruining my Olympic experience - there is no fun in watching *any* Olympic sport where you only get to glimpse 5 minutes of it - who cares who wins the weightlifing if you didn't get to watch everyone else compete and see the tactics of who is lifting what weight and why? Who cares about the middle of a soccer match? Or three points in the tennis? I mean, I could go on the internet if I wanted fricking highlights.


My patchworking has come to crunch time cause I am going to run out of piecing papers. The lady I bought the kit off actually called me last night cause she hadn't put through the transaction properly on the day and she told me that buying an extra 500 pieces would cost me $40 and whilst catsparx and I agreed that life was too short to sit and cut out paper hexagons, maybe it's not too short to do them by hand and save the money. I think that's a rip off actually. So I shall have to figure out the quickest way to do it by hand later tonight.


I cooked the broccoli stirfry for dinner last night and it was not really a winner. But the good thing about it was remembering how easy it actually is to make sauces from scratch. I'd forgotten that! And so that's just a matter of having the right ingredients on hand and trial and error to find some that I like. And then I would be able to exclude yet more preservatives and additives from my diet. (Have the rest of the stirfry for lunch today which is less exciting)


I love my post office! Yesterday I had the funniest experience there. I go in pretty much everyday on my way home from work to check my box and pick up review books. It's kind of weird to have other people know your own mail as intimately as you do. Once I was looking at some package and I didn't recognise the sender and I wondered aloud: I wonder what this is? And the post master looks at me and says: it's a book ... which of course it pretty much always is! Last week I went in on Tuesday and he took one look at me and asked: Are you sick? You look awful.
Me: No. My boy broke up with me.
Him: What? Again!
Me: Yeah. I must be horrible
Him: You look alright to me!

Anyway. Yesterday I had no mail but I wandered in to get stationary to maybe rectify the filing cabinet fiasco and also other bits and pieces I need to sort out the study. And I'm just wandering around in the stands looking a bit dazed. And he calls out to me: Are you alright?! What are looking for? And I'm like: I don't know! And his wife says: it's alright. I'll take care of you. And so there I am with this tour guide of the stationary whilst we work out what I need. I'd grabbed manila folders and paper for the hexagons and a knife for cutting and whatever. And I explain my fiasco and whatever. And they have customers queuing all over the place but she doesn't care and when she's finished she pops round and serves me first to pay. And as she's processing my purchases she says: these folders are foolscap. And I'm like OMG! What is *wrong* with me! And she says: told you'd I'd look after you!

And that's why I like going to my post office every day - it's always filled with goodness even if there are no free books.

The chubby little girl who didn't get to sing

Heh - I was going to make a comment about the imposter who mimed the song at the Opening Ceremony (was obvious to me she was miming at the time ... little supercilious, look at me I am so pretty and sweet, thing) but this comic I just got sent says it better:

Heh. And I see that Georgia beat Russia in the Beach Volleyball last night. Nothing like a pair of beach babes in the shortest shorts ever invented making a political statement.

I love writers ...

... but sometimes some of them do test my patience (Oh!! I see!!)

I just got this in my inbox tonight:

In June I sent a copy of a novella, ....

I have not received confirmation or otherwise of your receipt of it.

Could you please send me a rejection so I can try it with another publisher?

Seems I've been given an easy option there ... doesn't it?

Cute though ...

I *know* we discussed here before me sending out a standard "yes, I received it, when I know, you'll know" standard email. And really, if I would just sit down and write it, I could copy and paste them out as soon as I get the submission. But .. frankly, at the moment I am just busy keeping on top of the daily email as it is and am ridiculously swamped. It's not my day job, after all.

Still, it's cute. Where would he think he'd get a faster turnaround than two months? At least not in Australia at the moment, I'd have thought.

The world is my *fucking* oyster

K thinks I should get that put on a tshirt. And maybe I *fucking* should.

We were sitting having dinner tonight after seeing Mamma Mia at The Astor - possibly my final visit, though I am definitely up for going again with anyone else, and in celebration, I had an English Toffee Choc Top.


Me: I'm thinking of going to Tasmania.
K: When?
Me: I dunno.
K: To visit Tansy?
Me: And Dirk.
K: That's nice.
Me: Or maybe Brisbane. I haven't decided yet.
K: Uhuh.
Me: The world is my *fucking* oyster
K: You should put that on a Tshirt
Me: How do you do this?? How long have we been friends? 10 years? How do you cope?
K: Yeah. I think I just let it wash over me most of the time.
Me: What's it like?
K: Yeah. I don't know!
Me: What do you think the *next* 10 years will be like?
K: Yeah. I don't know!
Me: How do you *do* it.
K giggles awkwardly

I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do

So we went to see Mamma Mia. Now I'm a big, huge, fan of musicals. Not so much ABBA but really, you can't really go wrong with ABBA. They defined pop and really everything else is a crap imitation. And as the musical shows, there's not a situation for which an ABBA song would be inappropriate. And the movie was ... well. It was like all musicals, silly and totally over the top. Everyone overacted ridiculously and I didn't have the smile off my face the whole movie. It was great! It didn't take itself seriously. And really. Thats the way to go when you are going to have characters randomly break out into song and dream sequences.

I Have A Dream

But it was great. And it had me thinking. Because I like to do that in ridiculously over the top Hollywood movies. In counselling this week we were talking about what I would take back and what I regretted. And it was an interesting discussion. And it's had me thinking ever since. Because I guess the whole thing in life is about taking a moment to take stock, see what you did and didn't like about yourself or what you learned or whatever.

And I was thinking, this year has been one helluva ride. I mean, it's like I opened up a floodgate or something and there's no real going back. When I think about it, this year has been like living in 3D Technicolour after having lived in black and white for a long time. And I know it happened incrementally and it was a really big task, but I guess I am saying that I am at a point of no return. In a good way. I've experienced a lot of emotions this year and they have been the highest highs and the lowest lows and that's kind of the point. Or maybe I should say, not the lowest of lows. And that's more to the point. And that that's the non-negotiable here. But I think also, the good thing is that I discovered I can be sad and not get lost in that.

I've felt more like myself this year than I have in five and probably ten years. And for a long time, I thought that was lost. That I was lost. Or gone. Or unreachable. Untouchable. That the unending sadness or numbness or nothingness had killed it. Killed me.

The Winner Takes All

Yet here I am! Standing tall on my own two feet and staring down the future. This week I learned the Warrior Pose in Yoga and geez I liked the power of it. Here I am. Not unscathed. Not without my war wounds. But they healed. And actually, I really am stronger for them. I'll never again let someone cripple me and who I am. I'll never again let someone let me believe that what I am or who I am or what I believe in or what I want in life is wrong or invalid or unworthy. I'll never again fit myself into someone else's picture. And I will always strive for greatness and dream big. Because I never want to be a person who dreams small. I will always strive to be brave and passionate and open and loyal and true. Because that's who I am. And I will never again allow myself to be contained or tamed or subdued. And the best bit is how this feels. It feels ... ALIVE!

Take a chance on me

Beach Volleyball

So is it that the women are just really bad compared to the men? That they really need streamlined uniforms to take advantage of streamlining friction and wind shear or something? Cause otherwise I have no real reason to offer as to why the women's clothing gets skimpier and skimpier but the men's seem to get longer and longer.

Makes no sense to me at all.

More beach Volleyball

Also. Who the fuck is the DJ at the beach volleyball? I totally just heard Run To Paradise! WTF!

And since I am swearing like a sailor, and no longer am I sailor, I am taking my grumpy butt to bed.