happeeee

Today i am filled with happee-ness.

Do you hear me people? I'm not NOT in a bad mood... i'm actually in a GOOD mood!!

It started this morning with waking up after a GOOD night's sleep (enough hours and good quality).

Then continued with a a good hair day (these really are few and far between).

Then I walked outside and it was beautiful SUNSHINE.

Then I got to work and got an email from my sister who lives overseas.

And THEN i got an email from my beautiful Cousin who lives overseas also...

It's school holidays... so when I finish work I've finished teaching for the whole day...

I'm almost up to date with my study...

happee happee joy joy. And so to you.

This man...

...is an idiot.

A Conga Line of Suckholes.....

Um.. What?

http://www.theage.com.au/news/opinion/weaselword-tossbags/2006/09/24/1159036410582.html

Music makes me happee.

Music makes me happy. New Music makes me happier.

Songs I'm in love with that I have downloaded lately:

Scorch, Macromantics
Setting Sun, Howling Bells
Sarah, Eskimo Joe
Original Fire, Audioslave
Miss Murder, AFI
Animals, Nickelback
Science is Golden, the Grates
All Hail the Serpent Queen, Goodnight Nurse
Over My Head , the Fray
The Only Way, Gotye
Sexyback Justin Timberlake
Supermassive Blackhole Muse
Down at the 303 Cat Empire

They're brilliant. Seriously. All of them. They've made this last couple of weeks lovely.

My excitement is quite sad really.

One of the big highlights of living with my parents is cable tv and really fast internet with an (almost) unreachable download limit. I'm not much of a "watch tv at normal primetime" type person. I tend to download series of shows and watch them until 2am 4 nights in a row, thus getting through the whole season in one week. This is a very satisfying way to watch these series (at least, in an instant gratification kind of way). I suspect, however, that a large part of the anticipation is lost when you don't have to wait a week between episodes to find out what's going to happen next.

Currently I am hooning my way through the West Wing. Australian television viewers were, apparently, screwed over on numerous occasions as to the screening of this brilliant series. I, however, never really watched it much. I downloaded seasons 5, 6 & 7, and am almost finished season 7, which also happens to be the end of the series (I think). Last night I experienced the tv moment that, for me, has been about the most anticipated of my entire tv-series-watching life. Seriously, the build up to this moment has been going on for about 4 or 5 seasons. Throughout these last two seasons this moment has been so close you could almost touch it, and yet kept being snatched away: people disappearing for whole episodes at a time, people having fights, people turning away when they should have kept walking, and people almost dying.

So when it finally occurred, i found myself whooping with joy and actually punching the air. Yes, that's right, I was lying in bed and started jumping around with a big grin on my face.

So.... do you want me to tell you what happened?



Do you want me to tell you why I was so excited?




.....




Oh come on. You know you do.





Ok. (beware this contains a spoiler for the last season of the West Wing, so if you haven't seen it and you intend to, stop reading now!).





Donna Moss and Josh Lyman FINALLY got together.



OH MY GOD FINALLY...

Now over the past couple of months that I have been watching the West Wing, I have developed a little crush on Josh Lyman. Don't laugh. Seriously, brains and wit. One of the most powerful political minds in the (fictional) United States with a tendency to be excitable and angry and passionate. What doesn't this guy have going for him? I know he's fictional, but i sincerely wish he wasn't. So, Josh Lyman, a tribute to you.


(I tried to put a photo of the happy couple in here, but it doesn't seem to be working...)

As I think about what i've just written, and how much I've obsessed over Josh and Donna all morning, I've begun to think that I'm actually just a tad sad. Just like I was almost in tears when Logan left for Europe at the end of the most recent Gilmore Girls last season, and when that heart patient Denny died at the end of Grey's anatomy after Izzy tried to make him worse to get him a heart transplant. Is it just me, or does everybody get this involved in the stories they watch? I really do sometimes forget that it's not real. Oh dear. I need to start sleeping at 3am instead of watching tv shows.

And don't even get me started on my most recent obsession with Girls of the Playboy Mansion (also known as The Girls Next Door). Perhaps I'll save that for another day.

Revelations.

Yesterday at Chadstone, I was outside the movies with my brother and one of our friends, and we thought we'd go to a movie. We read this:

"A secret he would not share. An obsession he could not control. A mystery he dare not resolve. A dancer at the peak of his powers is abducted by three women, abused then thrown back into the world twelve days later, a broken man. A psychological mystery about a man's struggle to regain his lost self...."

Book of Revelations.


We thought it looked quite good.






Boy Oh BOY were we wrong.



I saw Tom Long's flaccid penis.

I saw him fucked up the ass by a faceless woman with a strap-on.

I saw more sex than I've seen in any movie that wasn't "officially" porn.

I saw him attack a woman in the bathrooms of a nightclub because she had red hair and nice nails.

I saw Greta Scaaci looking much older and sicker than she should.

I saw alot of "contemporary" dance.

I heard WAY too much silence.




Lets just say that the only two things this movie had going for it, in my opinion, were the song that was on while he was attacking the woman in the bathroom, and Colin Friels, who is looking quite dashing these days with his grey "do."

uninspired

Uninspired. That's what I am. N


othing is wonderful, nothing is terrible.


I don't have anything to complain about, but nor do I have anything to exclaim about.


It's just blah.


blah blah blah blah


So, dear readers, until I find some inspiration (i'm open to any form), posting may be somewhat haphazard.

Apologies in advance, and do know that I still love you all.


Yes. even you.


Love me.

sun sun sun sun

Ahhhh the nice weather is here.

The weather really makes a difference to my mood… when it’s sunny that is. I’m not necessarily LESS happy when it’s raining and overcast, in fact I quite enjoy that kind of weather. At this time of year though, I am more often cheerful for absolutely no reason.

Take Friday for instance… it was as if someone had given me happy drugs.

Saturday too.

And then there was Sunday. Who the fuck made it rain again?

Um....

I'm sorry you said what....?

Chinese state media says a Chinese woman's attempt to teach her dog how to drive proved a costly error, as her car crashed into an oncoming vehicle.

*beat*

*yeh totally saw that one coming*

Xinhua news agency reports no one - including the dog - was injured, but both vehicles were slightly damaged.

*beat*

*she was obviously already brain damaged, or living in a cartoon*

Xinhua says the accident happened recently in the city of Hohhot, capital of north China's Inner Mongolia region.

The woman, surnamed Li, had noticed how fond the dog was of crouching on the wheel, and thought it should have a go at steering the car.

*a reasonable daydream, however not such a reasonable ACTION*

She herself operated the accelerator and the brake.

No wonder they're only allowed one child...

Autobus.

Things I don’t like about buses:

-You can’t get off them.

-Nobody else can get off them either.

-Nor can you throw someone out the window when you get sick of them.

-When drunk people continually accidentally lock the toilet door from the outside, and one has been drinking, it can make for quite an uncomfortable ride.

-Somewhere that takes me 4 hours to drive to in a car takes 6 hours on a bus.

-It takes 20 minutes to put snow chains on a bus.

-You don’t get to choose Hicksville (which ordinarily isn’t terrible, except when there’s nothing open but a dirty pub).


Things I like about buses:

-You can sit back and laugh/drink/sleep and not have to worry about concentrating for 4 ½ hours. Consequently you are less tired when you arrive at a destination, and MUCH less tired when you arrive home again.

-That’s about it.

Ribbit Ribbit

Well... i'm about to chuff off for the weekend. Up to the snow. Do a snow dance for me.

I leave you with this delightful task...


http://www.matthewbarr.co.uk/muppets/

Apparently i'm Kermit...

Camels

This photo was taken from above. The white marks are the camels, the black ones are just shadows. Amazing huh?

Nerd nerd nerd nerd

Ok. I've resigned myself to the fact that I really am a nerd. A funky nerd, but a nerd nonetheless.*

The reason that I am suddenly so sure that I am now a fully fledged nerd is this:

Last night I got home at 10.30pm to find my long awaited uni study materials in a package on the kitchen bench. I had dinner, had a shower, went to bed, and promptly ripped open the package and proceeded to spend 2 hours reading all the information through. The study period doesn't even start for another week.

The funny thing is, i am SO excited to be studying again. I dropped out of my BA from Melbourne uni a few years ago because I hated it so much. Now, i've decided what I want to do, and GOSHDARNIT I'm going to do it well.

Geez it's nice to be back to my roots.

See. Nerd.


*this is how one of my best friends described me a couple of weeks ago, so it must be true. Actually, I think she used the word dork. Perhaps not quite the same as nerd. Still....

Early is as early does.

Well it’s Monday again. How on earth can last week AND the weekend ALL be over AGAIN????

No matter how, they are.

Have you ever been mildly embarrassed by your actions whilst absolutely exhausted and more than a little drunk? On Saturday night, after an absolutely enormous and quite stressful day, I was in aforementioned state, and having successfully negotiated my way down two flights of stairs from an upstairs bar to a downstairs bar, tripped down the final three. I landed on all fours on the ground, and as a consequence of this, have a rather sore and quite swollen right ankle.

Now, I am quite sure I was not horribly, awfully and revoltingly pissed enough to be stumbling down the stairs. Therefore my only conclusion can be that I in fact tripped over my own shoes. Clumsy, yes. Alcoholic, no. My reasoning for this is simply that I had the grace to be embarrassed by landing on the dirty floor in the middle of the bar, and that I could not simply laugh it off at the time as I would have were I pissed enough, although I am all too happy to laugh at myself now.

No, I didn’t laugh. I cracked the shits.

I sat at the downstairs bar grumbling to myself for a good 15 minutes whilst the boys were upstairs finishing off their lame and unsuccessful attempts at picking up.* I then hobbled out to a cab, and proceeded to drunk dial three of my friends all the way home, and in bed for half an hour. I remember some of what was said.

Really though, I’m not terribly ashamed of any of these things. What I am most put out about is that I was at home and in bed by midnight, when most decent nights are only just beginning. I think I must be getting old.


*I must admit, my dear brother did stay with me and listen to my moaning for at least 5 minutes before escaping back upstairs to gyrate to the lovely selection of 80s tunes on display.

Ow.

I have recently returned to the gym after a rather long hiatus. and by rather long i mean going from swimming 70kms a week and running 40kms a week to sitting on my arse doing nothing for four years. Earlier this year i got into going to the gym semi-regularly... and then I went to Japan to go skiing, and things all went downhill after that (no pun intended). I really struggle going to the gym at 9pm after a 13 hour day of work. Not surprising really, but not really a sufficient excuse either. So i'm back into it. I'm back into doing things.

Last weekend i started dancing... Best.Fun.I've.Ever.Had.With.My.Clothes.On. Seriously.

Then on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday i swam each night. And last night, i went to the gym and trained for an hour and a half with my best friend who happens to be a personal trainer. I think i used every piece of equipment in that gym. Twice. I've decided i'm going to get hot for summer. I've also decided it's going to hurt.* Today, my legs, my butt, my shoulders, my arms, my back... they are all sore. The trouble is that I know my muscles don't REALLY stiffen up and get sore for about 30-36 hours after I train. So for them to be sore now, means that by tomorrow morning, i'm seriously not going to be able to move at all.

Tonight i'm doing a spin class. Whoever invented spin must be one of the craziest (and possibly richest) kids on the block. I like to imagine their thought process as something like this:
"Lets get a group of 30 crazy people to sit on a bike and sweat for an hour in the tiniest room possible on THE most uncomfortable seat imagineable, and be shouted at by a skinny, hot and suntanned woman. Lets spread the myth that this class burns a million calories, and that if you do it twice a week you will look just like the skinny, hot and suntanned woman shouting at you."

I'm slightly concerned that I might get dizzy, due to my complete lack of fitness, and fall off the bike. However, i wont' REALLY fall off... i'll just get halfway to the ground and jolt to a stop because my feet won't come out of those stupid little racing shoe feet cleat things, and the pedals won't stop moving. Chances are, nobody will actually notice I'm unconscious, just as long as the pedals keep moving.

I'll let you know if i'm still alive on monday.

Have a lovely weekend everybody.

ooh one more thing: I just met my first real-life blog person. The adorable Kiki and I discovered we work just around the corner from each other, and had lunch today. Does this make me a proper e-nerd? Can i join the club?

*NB I'm not particularly enamoured of the fact that it's going to hurt, but it is just that, a fact.

Disappointment

I'm really disappointed, and it disappoints me to be disappointed... if that makes any sense at all. I'm disappointed in one of my friends, and the way she treated me, and the way she treated our friendship.

Just as a future reference for anybody who knows me and is thinking of using the following excuses:
-oh i didn't remember until i saw the photos
-oh i was so drunk i didn't know what i was doing
don't use them with me. Being insanely drunk doesn't change who you are, or the way you treat your friends, and if it does, then you've got a problem.

NB. I wrote this post on Tuesday night, and somehow it didn't post, it was saved as a draft. Since I wrote it, said friend has gone a long way toward redeeming herself and is, I know, sincerely apologetic.