Feminoz

TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE MOON

2009-07-07T13:06:00.002+09:30

The moon is full and an eclipse begins this evening just before 7.30 pm if you're in the eastern states of Australia. Pop your head out the window and howl, if you must. It is also said that this is not the time to entertain power-trippers or nut jobs... which leads me to question is there ever a time when the planets convey that it is a good time to entertain power-trippes and/or nutjobs. If there is, I guess that would make for a fun dinner party, eh possums?

It's school holidaay time again. Two weeks of the heating system being run all day, whilst all the doors and windows are left open. Two weeks of all electronic devices being turned on, and and being left on all day. Two weeks of all foostuffs being removed from the refrigerator and cupboards and left out on the benchtops for the cats to interfere with. Oh the joy....

Oh, and two weeks of having to find a new hiding place for the booze, naturally. Usually by the second week, I have to hide it from myself. My employer has some weird rules about not turning up drunk or something, I don't know....

Noise had a friend to stay for a couple of nights and, possums, did I laugh long and loud when they ... seriously... asked me to purchase some alcohol for them. "I'll get you some soft drink instead", I advised them. "No, Mum. Think about the sugar!!" quipped the smartarse (earlier in the day I had decreed that fizzy drink is banned in our house due to the sugar content.)

So instead I sent them out to buy crack.

Kidding.

Thank the Goddess that Pencils is currently obsessing about getting a "mini knitter" from Spotlight. Oh, and about being Mrs Edward Cullen. (Seriously, anyone know anything about staging a Twilight intervention?)

The good news is that next week we will be seeing the Harry Potter movie. I will possibly be sober for that.

Bastille Day looms.... and I have some seriously medieval corsetry to organise on the night.

I will post a picture of it if I can get a panoramic camera.

Au'voir ma possums.

Ain't no sunshine....

2009-06-30T21:42:00.002+09:30

..but that's okay because I REALLY like rain.

We had rather a lot of it here today and some blustery winds. Our roof is still over our heads, unlike some unfortunates down south.

Yesterday was a day off work and as you do, I nicked out in the morning and bought a mountain bike. The ortho guy said not to walk while I have this Achilles tendinopathy thing going on so I figured riding a bike would be okay?

You can forget how to ride a bike you know.

I discovered this yesterday. As we live very close to a rather large cemetery, I figured this would be a good place to go and reacquaint myself with the riding of a bike - some nice windy roads and not a lot of traffic plus I like the ambiance. I stayed away from the funeral chapel and a burial that was taking place.... out of respect. Who wants a large middle-aged woman in a sparkly silver helmet with her pants leg rolled up doing wheelies and whooping up and down the path at their funeral after all?

Today I have a sore unmentionable.

Another outcome of yesterday's unexplained burst of energy was a cleaned up courtyard. I moved the barbeque, the swing seat and picked up a lot of dog poop. The dog hovered around looking guilty. If I was there while someone picked up tonnes of my poop I'd probably look like that too. Disgusting mutt. Acres of wasteland down the very back, but no... gotta poop in the courtyard.

Early-Shirley (neighbour) was out there checking out what I was up to. She's good at keeping tabs on the goings on in our yard. Sorry for all the "Goddam sums of bishes" and various other outbursts of mine, Shirl.... that bloody swingseat has a nasty streak and was determined to create problems from the moment we aquired it....

Noise had a shite day today and texted me a couple of hundred times to let me know what a shite day he was having, so I cooked him his favourite tonight - carbonara and french cheesecake for desert - and have finally packed him off to bed. Pencils let me know, with five minutes notice bless her cotton socks, that she had volunteered for somethingorother down at the school this evening. "Doggammit, Pencils. Stop volunteering to do shit!" was my reaction. I'm a very bad mother. I dropped her off at the school, because heading out at night after dinner in brass monkey weather is my idea of a fun thing to do and then headed out again to pick her up an hour or so later. Asshat rang, whining about something Noise had done that he wasn't supposed to and could he come over and pick up the Xbox. Ooh... there's a no-brainer. NO.

(FYI, flipping the bird at the caller when you hang up the phone in front of the child of the caller is perhaps not the best example to set.... but is guaranteed to elicit a belly laugh from said child.

What a dick.. what he really wanted was the Xbox ( to play with, no doubt) as setting any form of disciplinary parameters for Noise and Pencils has never really figured on his list. Seriously... he had to be told that children's beds should have linen on them AND it should be washed regularly.... to which I will add "yuck". I'm so glad I haven't lived with him for nigh on 12 years.

So there you go... my life of thrills and spills...

I'm off to watch a DVD in bed and ignore the craving for chocolate.... because Bastille Day is now only 14 days away..... AND THE HARRY POTTER MOVIE COMES OUT THE NEXT DAY!!! I'm not going to stay late at the ball because I want to be up bright and early to secure the movie tickets. Got my ducks all in a row.

Sleep tight, possums.

Reading...

2009-06-26T12:22:00.004+09:30

The Fraud by Barbara Ewing.

I won't bore you with a synposis.

Hang on.. .I think I've got a picture of what I'm eating too....

I could only live on lemons and water for so long..... all right, it was roughly an hour and a half, but full marks for effort I say... and besides that I've been feeling a little out of sorts and needed some cheering up.

As a result, I shall attend Bastille Day Celebrations looking like:

In other news,

Noise is reaching all the milestones of adolescence. Poor little bloke is being tossed about by life a bit at the moment....and his arms and legs are getting all long and gawky.
I'm remembering how revolting a time adolescence could be and how easy it was to be always ending up doing the wrong thing.

As a result, I am "fully chilled", according to his friends. "Nah man," Noise disagrees, "She fully rages... like ALL the time."

Word.

Pencils is lazing around being a total self indulgent little slob and managing to make it seem adorable.

Probably because she is covered in cats the whole time she's at home.

She obviously emanates a lot of heat....and I don't light the fireplace until evening.

Listening to

2009-06-25T21:06:00.003+09:30

Joni Mitchell

Interpreter

2009-06-25T14:58:00.003+09:30

I had this on DVD a couple of weeks ago, and it's become a bit of a running joke between the little ones and myself. My favourite is the Indian Interpretation.

Truth is stranger than fiction they say.

In court today, we had an interpreter who wasn't even as accurate as Ms Tate.

I kid you not.

Oh, bun bun bun bun bun... *insert head wobbles*

Dear blog,

2009-06-19T20:21:00.002+09:30

Sorry I've been neglecting you of late.

I don't really have a reason other than it's been cold here and a PC won't fit in the bed as well as a laptop.

Also I've been ...gasp....dieting and .... gasp....exercising.

The exercising is the hard part as I've got an achilles tendon complication so I have a little trampoline to bounce around on...

Ghastly sight. Sorry children's retinas....

All this because I have to fit into formal wear for a Bastille Day celebration at Hotel (S)wanky.

And I'd rather not have to hire a marquee for the occasion.

Please pray for me.

If I haven't made a dent in the number by July 6 then I'm not going and will be really disappointed and will have to wait till next year.

That is all.

Talk to your tax advisor

2009-06-11T20:52:00.002+09:30

Because the bank account ain't listening....

.............................................................

Destination: Lurgyville

Travelling: Noise, Pencils

and

(the mother)

Class: Life

Seriously, with the moon in Aquarius. there's so much more I could say but we'll all have to wait, Possums.

Today at work, Sneezy Coworker sneezed 14 times every hour.

I hate my job.

Not my life.

I love that.

I just hate where I work.

Have to go.

Grumpy is whining.

Morning Tea

2009-06-01T17:05:00.001+09:30

Where I work if you have a birthday you have to provide a morning tea.

Sighs.

Whilst dashing off the last of my french homework I am baking a spinach roulade and a lemon cheesecake.

Sighs.

It's hard being so talented.

Really.

BIG weekend

2009-06-01T16:57:00.003+09:30

Whilst my taste in men may be questionable, my taste in men with impeccable taste in restaurants remains spot on. Mr Grumpy took me out for dinner to Shiki on Saturday night - a long, languid dinner of seven courses of the best Japanese cuisine in the country and quite a few pots of sake.

It was indescribably good so I won't bore you by trying to describe it.

(We never went anywhere as fine as Shiki when we were dating.)

It made turning umpty-umpty fun.

And sake does not give you a hangover.

Great times, people.

I'm just a middle-aged dirtbag baby.....

2009-05-28T11:20:00.004+09:30

As per previous post, the Harvey Moron courier arrived and delivered the correct goods. I hid in my bedroom and let Noise deal with it because I figured I might be jinxing things...

25 minutes later Noise and Pencils have formed their rockband..... an excited Noise skips into my room and says, "Hey Ma, you gotta come check this out. You should sing with us. They've got oldies' music on it too!"

He was referring to I'm Just A Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus.

Circa - get this - 2000. I was umpty-something even then.

Noise was five.

Yep, it's a golden oldie all right.

I graciously declined his offer - I'm saving it up for the next time he won't get up in the morning... as a special surprise for him, you know...

It's Thursday which means despite tomorrow being a work day, my weekend officially begins this evening. Noise and Pencils are with the other parent so I'm .....gasp.... going out for a few bevvies after work.....

Seriously, possums, I'm not sure it's worth all the fuss. It meant having to select an outfit appropriate for a day in a courtroom and yet passable for cocktail hour in a bohemian-style bar - not an easy task when faced with the jumble sale that my wardrobe has become. It also involves carrying an extra bag with two pairs of shoes - not sure how I'll be feeling about boots/heels/flats at 6pm tonight - flats make my legs look fat(ter) but heels are hell to walk in for more than two minutes - and then there's the makeup, hair styling requirements, toothbrush and all that malarkey. Plus, I can't look as though I'm actually preparing to go out after work for fear of attracting too much attention from coworkers who have an annoying habit of expecting to be invited along..... really, it almost makes me want to race straight home and jump into my jim-jams and consume chocolate....

Life would be so much easier being a bloke, non?

This morning on the drive to school, I suggested to Noise that we all get "Snuggies" (Have you seen those hideous things currently being advertised on television? They just look like blankets sewn into horrible-looking dressing gowns worn backwards) - because on the ad it shows parents wearing them while watching the kids' soccer games and looking absolutely thrilled to be doing so.

"They look like idiots, Mum" he chuckled.

I'm so tempted.

Here's the link. I think we should all have one.

Harvey Moron

2009-05-27T11:53:00.004+09:30

(Because we found a scrap of space in the living room that wasn't full of techno clutter.)

ME: I want to purchase this package deal you have in your catalogue, please.

HARVEY MORON SALESPESON: That's a national catalogue.

ME: Meaning?

HARVEY MORON SALESPERSON: Meaning we don't have that here in this store.

ME: Oh, okay. Well, do you have it at another store?

HARVEY MORON SALESPERSON: Yes. Let me ring them to find out.

(LENGTHY PERIOD OF TIME SPENT WAITING IN HOT, CROWDED NOISY STORE ON A SUNDAY)

HARVEY MORON SALESPERSON: Yes. They have it in the city store. It's been put on hold for you until tomorrow.

ME: And it's the package that I want that is for EGGSBOX?

HARVEY MORON SALESPERSON: Yes. Absolutely.

***********************************

Next day at the city store:

ME: I'm here to pick up the package deal that is being held for me.

HARVEY MORON SALESPERSON: Which one is that?

ME: The one that's in your catalogue. For EGGSBOX. The one I was told was being held here, in my name.

HARVEY MORON SALESPERSON: Let me just go check.....

(LONG WAIT IN ANOTHER LOUD, CROWDED, HOT HARVEY MORON STORE AT MONDAY LUNCHTIME)

HARVEY MORON SALESPERSON returns carrying a small case

HMS: Here you go.

ME: Um, that's not the whole package. That's just the software.

HMS: Oh. What was the package you were after again?

ME: (sighing and restraining the urge to grind my teeth) The one that is in your catalogue. The one that I was told yesterday was being held here, for me, in my name. The one for EGGSBOX.

HMS: Okay, hang on.

(LONGER WAIT ... see above re noise, heat and crowd)

HMS returns carrying VERY LARGE HEAVY box and smaller case containing software.

ME: Is that the correct package for the EGGSBOX platform?

HMS: Yes, that's the one.

ME: Does it have a handle?

HMS: No.

ME: Then I'm not going to be able to carry it, am I?

HMS: You can arrange pick up at the delivery bay....

(Let me spare you the rest, suffice to say that the delivery bay was hidden underground and contained a lot of rather smelly garbage bins. I didn't enjoy the 25 minutes I spent waiting there because I'm not a rat.)

Naturally, the huge box turned out NOT to be what we needed for EGGSBOX or could even use. Who ever would have thought?

Even better, it was only after it was unpacked by Noise and Pencils that this fact was discovered.... Fun times, people...

Having ~~thrown one of my tantrums that I'm famous in our area for~~ sorted this out - touch wood - at great expense involving lengthy cell phone conversations this morning with a very apologetic salesperson.... HARVEY MORON are going to courier out the correct package this afternoon and pick up the wrong one.

At least that's what they've told me they're going to do.

HARVEY MORON.
DON'T SHOP THERE.
EVER.

Quite off topic, Noise is paying for this latest piece of technocrap as he is now working a part time after school and weekend job. (Thankfully NOT for HARVEY MORON)
In future, he can do the buying bit too.

Monday Night Trap

2009-05-26T13:32:00.002+09:30

Despite all my good intentions to go straight home after french class last night, instead I was lured to the lair of a certain Mr Grumpy by the promise of one of his superb home cooked pasta dishes. Bastard. I arrived just after 8 pm and shortly after, dinner was served to me in front of the heater with the tv on (an almost unheard of indulgence! Mr Grumpy has very set ideas about dining) because I was feeling a little chilled and needed some pampering. Add to that, he had the nerve to ply me with some rather nice wine. Total Bastard.

Seriousy. The man should be stopped!

Je n'aime pas lundi....

2009-05-25T11:18:00.003+09:30

...but then again, who does?

On Sunday night, I begin to dread the onset of Monday morning. By Sunday afternoon, I'm experiencing apprehension about the onset of the dread due to occur later in the evening. At this rate, I'll be ready to jump off a tall building by Friday afternoon - normally one of my happier times ...(if I haven't overdone it on Thursday night, of course.)

I never sleep well on a Sunday night. I think this could all be alleviated, of course, if I simply just got up Monday morning, made myself a nice cup of tea and completely ignored everybody and everything else until sometime around Wednesday.

Last week, I took myself off to the beach one afternoon in an attempt to clear my thinking space a little. Naturally, Noise chose that time to not be where he was supposed to be when his father went to pick him up after school. Naturally, the father rings me because as you all know, I'm genetically programmed to fix everybody else's problems and sit around waiting for such an opportunity to arise. Which is interesting, considering this was the day that I had posted on the NOT MY PROBLEM concept.

Possums, it's not easy to sit on a bench in a meditative state, watching the sun descend toward the sea whilst dialling everybody in your phonebook contacts list to see if they have your son.

(He was at soccer training as it turns out and not being sold into the slave trade or running away to join the French Foreign Legion because I'm not much fun as a mother....)

So that was the theme for last week.. NOT MY PROBLEM.

I was seized with the urge to declutter my house over the weekend, but didn't achieve much as it was dark moon - always a bit of weird low energy/high frustration level time for me. So instead I did the early saturday morning soccer run, spent a couple of divine hours relaxing at the hairdresser (ahem... I got my appointment days confused last week), lazed around Saturday night listening to music and such and... well, just pottering really.

There was one little bit of drama around Friday which had been lingering around for some time which was becoming a pain in the ass until I reminded myself "NOT MY PROBLEM". Those who know me well know I'm not a fan of the passive-aggressive (unless I'm the source of it - totally different then) and I'm equally put off by people who lie (not little white lies, of course. I totally welcome those. Of course I want to be told I look good...even when I don't.) No, I'm talking the bigger, unnecessary, stupid lies here. Simply, when my bullshit meter indicates "Things Is Bullshit", I don't hang around asking questions. I just move on.

If you're lurking and you recognise yourself in this, might I suggest you piss off? Go to your nearest library and borrow a book on boundaries....and maybe one on realistic perspective..

So for now, I'm waiting around at work for certain people to pull their heads out and well, that could take all day it seems. (Sometimes I wish I too got paid a huge amount of money for having my head up my ass... then again, I like the fresh air and sun too much.) As it's NOT MY PROBLEM, I'll just sit here and wait and hope that sometime soon I can go for a walk outside. It's a cool, wet autumn day here...lovely!

I have French tonight with the scarey teacher who I'm liking more and more each week. She's still "scarey as" (a Pencils term of description) but the class is proving to be a very amusing challenge. I feel like I know even less and less as we go along and am confident this is normal. I've learnt to keep quiet about the fact I'm learning to speak French. I don't know why, but there is a certain brand of non-French speaker who seem compelled to attempt to speak in French when they hear that one is learning it. I'm not talking about those who actually can speak it - I love those people, "Bring it on!" I say - but those who vaguely remember a word here or there from when they were at school a thousand years ago and who then expect you to be very impressed with their very special ability to recall it.. however incorrectly. Give me a break, I'm a Gemini. We all know it's nigh impossible for my type to pretend to be interested when we're not.

Gosh, look at the time, Possums.. and I'm rambling. From the sucking sounds emanating from nearby (heads being removed from asses), I anticipate I may have to do some actual work in a moment or two.

May this Monday see you all having a wonderful life!

Oz

Because....

2009-05-21T19:38:00.004+09:30

History is the memory of things said and done. Carl L. Becker

Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies. And be it gash or gold, it will not come again in this identical guise. Gwendolyn Brooks

Follow the river and you will find the sea. Some Old French Guy

C'est ma maison

2009-05-21T10:51:00.002+09:30

Voir le ce grand arbre ? Si une branche tombe la voiture obtient un nouveau bossellent!

Qui fera l'élagage cette année ?

Je déteste l'élagage.

Time.

2009-05-21T09:14:00.003+09:30

Well, here we are, possums. Just let me grab a coaster for my cup of coffee, then we can sit down and I can begin to tell you all about my week.

Hello? No?

Just as well I made a hair appointment for this morning because I pay the hairdresser to listen, right?

It's all good. (No, it isn't. It really isn't. Who am I f*cking kidding?)

And that which isn't good is mostly down to my mismanagement of my resolve to say and to stick to: Not My Problem.

I thought this gig would get easier as they get older. (Yes, here I go again. Relax, possums, I'm not going to get into a big rant about Asshat.) But seriously, some parts of it do get easier. Yes, they feed themselves. Yes, they take showers by themselves. Why, one can even style its own hair and do its makeup. So can Pencils. They dress themselves. They use the telephone, the internet and all other modern techno stuff without needing any assistance. They organise their social lives, their sporting commitments and even know exactly when that special program they want to watch is about to start.

So how come they can't remember their PE uniforms when they need them? Why is it that everything they need today has been left at their Dad's house? Why are my mornings thrown into chaos - and we're talking EVERY morning - because of missing planners, shoes, notes, homework assignments? Despite my having asked the night before, several times, "Do you have all your stuff organised for tomorrow?"

And really, why do I let myself get so caught up in it all? I'm sitting here guilting out, with a tight chest and a stomach which feeks like it must look like a cover of a 1970's macrame magazine because Noise put on his Henny-Penny, "Oh My God, The Sky Really Is Falling" face this morning and looked like he wanted to end it all because I sat in the car repeating, "Not My Problem. You Deal With It."

You know what? It's not really them. I know, I know - they're teenagers (well, one is anyway and the other is doing a pretty damn good impression of one) and I know there's plenty out there who can relate. They're good kids. They're pretty self-absorbed and will only get up and help if you scream at them and bribe them ( usually at the same time). They're normal. It's me and it's the fact that I don't feel as though I've got time for anything. No-one or no thing gets my undivided attention at all - I'm doing twelve things at once it seems and not one of them particularly well.

And damn it all - that bloody chatty tradesman I mentioned last week? Well, he botched the job up and now has to come back again to fix it up. THAT was the straw that broke the camel's back this morning. Having to make that call.

So, it was a toss up between a trip to the psych ward and some serious chemical intervention or, as mentioned earlier, a hair dressers appointment. Wisely, I've opted for the latter.

Then I'm going to buy myself a 24-hour planner and sit down and see why I can't make it all balance and work out better. Maybe it's those six hours of sleep each night - perhaps that's time I could be putting to better use?

Yours sincerely

Ozfemme The Martyred Who Loves To Throw A Pity Party.

I'm done now.

I'm sure my hair will make it all better later today.

Something profound is lurking at the back of the woodshed....

2009-05-12T01:37:00.003+09:30

A – Age.
Increasing. In four years and 19 days I will be 50.

B- Bed size

A queen size. We're talking round-hipped, flooppy-boobed majestic sort of queen here. The only kind, really. The rest have to be satisfied with being sylphs, wraiths and tree sprites. That's their lookout.

My bed is full of large European pillows, vary textural entitites and some ridiculously strategic positioning at times....

C- Chore you hate.

Anything chore-like.

D - Dog’s name.

Poop.

E - Essential start to your day.

Waking.

F - favorite colour.

Silver. Burgundy. Parisian blue.

G - gold or silver.

Sterling Silver. It's a good conductor.

Height:

Same as Elle McPherson.

I – instruments:

Voice. Sarcasm. ~~Vagina.~~.

J – job.

Yes.

K – kids.

Absolutely. Two. They're why I do these damned memes.

L - living arrangements.

See K.

M - Mum's name

Frank De La Ostrich.

N – Nicknames:

Gypsy Bells

O - Really?

P - pet peeve.

I don't make pets of my peeves. A lot pisses me off. I'm snarky.

Q - Quote from a movie.

Baboons can read philosophy. They just don't understand it.

R - robot or human.

Neither. A golden retriever, thanks.

S – Siblings.

Yes. Five of them. They're amazing and you'd all find them interesting. ~~One is a frigging lunatic but I still love her.~~ You know what? I really don't. In fact, truth be told, I wish she'd move to the other end of the earth. I have no idea why she stays around an area where she's abused, lied to, bullied, manipulated and disrespected just about anyone she's ever known.

T - time you wake up.

When I least want to.

U – underwear.

Bigger than it used to be.

V - Vegetable you dislike:

Brussel sprout. How mainstream.

W- ways you run late.

Increased irritation at being required to fit in with anyone else's schedule....

X - X-rays you've had.

They're boring. Nothing but skin and bone electrically imaged onto stiff plasticy film.

Y - Yummy food you make.

Everything. I rock the cuisinart.

Z - Zoo favourite.

Open range with lots of lions and tigers. And bears.

Thanks Jahteh. Sorry, to late and little too squiffy to link. Will get to it tomorrow.

More kerfuffle

2009-05-08T10:25:00.002+09:30

I've seen the back of Chatty Tradesman! YAY. Regrettably, it was as he was bending down to pick up the last of the paint cans and there was butt crack involved so I had to run to the bathroom and scrub my retinas for a while but.. Chatty Tradesman has left the building!!

Stay tuned though because ShowerScreen Guy still has to come back and his speciality is rocking up at 6.45 in the morning when I'm actually IN the bloody shower. I guess that's when he'll need the retina scrubbing brush....

This weekend I'm planning to finish cleaning up the path of destruction I created in the garden on Wednesday with the trimmer. Noise is having a friend over to stay who has just broken up with his girlfriend. Do teenage boys need chocolate and tissues at these times?
Pencils, I'm sure, will be expecting to go and do all things horsey.

The OtherParent (Asshat is offensive, apparently) is even less interested in them these days since his revolving door relationship scenario has seen him embark on his latest adventure of the heart. This one is a total gorgon (and was years ago when I knew her brother. Adelaide is a freakishly small town, you know.)

Picture a woman in her 40's, size 18 (20) squeezed into size 12 and then drenched in Elizabeth Arden's Red Door (blech blech blech). Add to that an excessive amount of black hair dye, a waxy looking orange/red lipstick, a wandering eye.... just the one...and there you have it. A match made in Heaven. Pencils, it seems, would rather stay at home cleaning the tile grout in the bathroom than go there when the gorgon is around...drinking..(how very blossoming Bahai...the father's choice of "spirituality these days) so ..YAY...I'm looking forward to a nice shiny bathroom floor and walls.

Woops. The father doesn't like it when I don't say nice things about him on this blog. Just as well he took my advice and has stopped lurking around on it.

Really, Possums, don't for a moment think I don't know what a bitchy old cow I sound like in these posts. It's because I haven't had sex for a while and, even more alarming, I haven't had my coffee yet today.

I'm off to remedy that situation. Both of them, in fact.

Pray for me. Or for the rest of mankind. You choose.

Retraction

2009-05-08T09:57:00.002+09:30

Feminoz wishes to clear something up from the last post regarding Mr Warm Hands and the loaded firearm.

Turns out Mr Warm Hands is a reader... lurker. stalker.. (but in the nicest possible way of oourse) and has expressed some concern that the last post made him sound dangerous.

He's totally not. He's a total peace-loving. warm-hearted, generous, charismatic gentleman with really warm hands ....who just happens to possess a firearm.

We have very differing views on firearms - particularly loaded ones.

He'd never shoot me, no matter how wrong I got the paella.

I'm not dead yet...

2009-05-06T14:04:00.003+09:30

Checked myself over and I didn't die, so here I am.

Gee whillikers, possums, I don't know what's come over me. The month of May dawns and I've been out nearly every night! Well, except for last night. Last night I came home from work, cooked dinner for the children and then went to bed ...all by 8pm. Must have been because after French on Monday night, Lady S and I caught up and sat up talking until nearly 3 in the morning. I'd link to Lady S but she's retarded - doesn't know how to blog, fecebook or anything of the sort and quite frankly I can't be bothered teaching her. You're on your own Lady S. But thanks for a great night on Monday.

On Sunday my sister - henceforth known as Favourite Sister (I think she reads this blog *waves*) my mother, henceforth known as WomanWithHeadInSand and daughter, who you all know as Pencils - and I went for lunch at a riverside cafe in a little town where I once spent a few miserable months as an adolescent. Lunch was way more enjoyable than those few months, let me tell you. Afterwards we attended a fundraising (more like eyebrow raising) fashion parade about which I shall say no more...other than UNDERGARMENTS ARE EVERYTHING. A good foundation can make an outfit. A bad one? Can give you nightmares. Poor Pencils. Halfway through the event she and I were plotting an intervention. Not sure who the stylist was. Not even sure there was one. I think they just tossed the clothes in the air and then grabbed whatever came down in no particular order.

Saturday (I'm working backwards) was spent up at Mount Woof with Horsey Friend. It involved a barbeque, a bonfire and some champagne. We stayed overnight and Pencils and I woke early in the morning so we could go up and have some horsey time before leaving for home. Turns out Horsey Friend's clocks are still on daylight savings time so it was a very early morning for us. If Horsey Friend ever happens upon this blog, I hope being called Horsey Friend doesn't annoy her. Really, she doesn't look anything like Princess Anne at all....

Today I'm home from work, it being Wednesday and my day off. Been gritting my teeth all morning waiting for the bloody annoying tradesman who's been here doing...I have no idea...noisy stuff. I wanted to scream at him to piss off and get the job done and just go. I don't want to talk to him and he keeps starting up conversations. He didn't even get the hint when I shut all the doors between where he was working and I was sitting on the computer. He's coming back tomorrow. Thank the goddess I'll be working. I might leave him a note asking him to do the dishes. See how he likes that.

Actually, once he left I went out and plugged in the garden trimmer, channeled my pissed-offedness into hacking the front garden to within an inch of it's unruly life. Now I've got huge piles of cut stuff to deal with and the green bin doesn't get emptied until tomorrow. The garden looks...atrocious. Maybe Mr Chatty Tradesman will clean that up for me....he's so bloody keen to be my new BFF, it would seem.

Being the month of whimsy, I went out on a limb.... one I didn't hack off, obviously...and emailed a man I dated very briefly (it was just coffee, dinner and a couple of staying in watching dvd dates so no history there). He emailed back straight away, saying he'd been thinking of me a lot lately. Which makes me wonder why didn't he contact me? Almost don't want to know what he was thinking...shudders...

So anyway, Mr Grumpy is no longer on the scene - yes, possums, I'm not friends with Mr Grumpy anymore because he hissed nastily at me when I was sick and let's face it, after eight years of on and off - well, I'm not that stupid... I hope.

Where was I?

Oh yes. That's right. I emailed the guy I was telling you about because I think it's time I got back on the horse and got married or something.

LOL. I just saw your faces.

Of course, I don't mean him necessarily. I'm just going to go out with him. At least, I think I am. He may notice that I'm larger than before and run away and hide. I don't know...

Mr Warm Hands (remember him?) is still a very good friend who I'm very fond of. From a distance. Hopefully a long enough one, because whatever chemistry was there disappeared when I discovered he kept a loaded firearm and his reasons for doing so. If you're reading this Mr Warm Hands, please don't shoot me.

Mr Grumpy, if you're reading this? Stop. If you liked it, you should have put a ring on it..... and judging from your most recent bout of hissing, you most certainly did not like it and never did so...au voir. Thanks for your parting words. They'll make a nice memory in years to come. Just not sure for who....

Well, I'd best be off now Possums. WomanWithHeadInSand is coming for dinner tonight and I have to pop out to the shops.

Yes, and you're all invited to a soiree at mine on May 30. Email me for the address, mkay? gmval at bigpond dot com. Brian, no excuses this time!!

Send chicken soup

2009-04-27T16:28:00.005+09:30

Ozfemme is unwell.

So those who have been told to go f*ck themselves by Ozfemme should perhaps just leave her alone. Snarky at times she may be, granted, but this is a pretty clear indication that things are not as they should be.

My son stayed by my side today and his warm young hand in my cold shaking one and his kind and wise-beyond-his-years words of comfort and encouragement have made me realise just what a miracle he is.

He also went for an interview for an after school and weekend job this afternoon.

My baby is becoming a young man. A smart, bright, sensitive young man who makes my heart swell with a mixture of love, pride and something else I can't name.. awe maybe?

So Ozfemme is off to rest a while so that she can bounce back again and be the sort of mother that she used to think she would be.

More hugs, muffins and drives in the country and less bitching perhaps.

Some people I dealt with today suck but my children are not among them.

Now I'm off to my bed... after a visit to do another load of the laundry.... some things wait for noone....

Rain

2009-04-23T21:55:00.003+09:30

The rain arrived here today which is great news, but traffic was treachorous.

I'm all over the shop with everything presently - school holidays are heaving their last gasps - Noise and I are never do well in the second week. He's all charged up with excess energy and I can't seem to sit on one place and concentrate on anything much for very long.. all making for interesting days at work where I am basically required to sit and concentrate for lengthy periods of time.

Noise cleaned the house, albeit in a rather haphazard fashion today, because we are expecting hordes of tradesmen in to fix stuff. Yay Noise. Now, I just have to find where he's stashed everything. Including Pencils.

Filled out my self-appraisal form (work related) tonight and found myself becoming angered and agitated. Suspect that once I've handed it in, I'll have some regrets but I seem to have been imbued with the WhoGivesAFIg approach tonight.

My dinner date has fallen asleep on the couch, at his abode, and I'm thinking that if I leave quietly I can deny ever having been here. After I pack a bag full of the leftovers of course so that he might also forget the wonderful repast he prepared for my consumption and have no evidence to argue his point.

That's another thing. I'm being all healthy sitll. Invested in a new steamer and have steamed evertything in sight... except the cats ... for the past week and I'm always ravenous. Hopefully this passes in May when, according to Mystic Medusa, I become Attila the Socialite. I'm not convinced. I'm still apt to think I'd choose my bed and a good book over anything offered on the social scene...

I can hear more rain pelting down. I have snow peas, spring onions, parsely, sage, basil and chiliies in my kitchen garden that are going to love this. So will the big spirit trees out the front - enormous gums that are dropping swathes of bark the size of ballgowns everywhere.

Back to French lessons next Monday night, which worries me because I've been waking up in the morning finding myself unable to string even the most simplistic sentence together in francais.

It's a bit like someone turned the blender in my brain on.

Plus the cats are acting all weird.

Dammit, Dinner Date has woken up. Might be wondering what I'm doing on his computer.

I mean, really...

2009-04-21T14:29:00.003+09:30

Pork crackling? Are you serious? Blech.......

Right. I'm off now. For real. And no more publishing on this blog like it's the new Twatter or summat.

On ya bikes, possums...

You can tell a lot....

2009-04-21T14:23:00.003+09:30

Remember that magazine ad from the tetrasomethingassic age where they would show the contents of someone's, like Jackie Weaver if memory serves me - handbag all tossed out like she'd just been busted shoplifting or for drugs or something? You know, the old "You can tell a lot about a person by what she carries in her Gloomish purse"

Well, I was just reminded of that ad when I looked down at the trashcan next to my desk.

One could surmise by the empty bacon, egg, lettuce cardboard box that contained a bacon, egg, lettuce and tomato cardboard sandwich, the empty pork crackling packet and the chocolate bar wrapper that I'm not having a very good day.

Hang on, the pork crackling packet isn't mine. Who TF has been sitting at my desk?????

But really

2009-04-21T14:21:00.003+09:30

I'm taking a week or so off to read Brian's posts. I don't want to miss a thing.