Two weeks in America

I'm back! This is going to be an extra long post -with millions and squillions of photos so be warned.

LA:

I did not love LA. Seriously, LA is .... why would anyone want to live in LA?? The skies are not blue [even though my camera says differently]. No-one knows how to drive. The architecture is square and boxy so all the houses look like Lego clusters. The malls are boring. LAX is one of the most drab airports I've ever ever been to. There are palm trees but no grass.

And where the heck is the renowned hippy-loopiness?? This was as close as I got, to something that was vaguely hippy-loopy. Actually this store was in the middle of a bunch of suburban grocery and electronic stores. It really doesn't look like it gets much business. I was really really tempted to go in but the 14 year old teenage boy by my side was unimpressed.

This was posted all over Chinatown in all the markets. It.. doesn't... make... any.. sense... stop posting it! I love that people won't be there for you when you're angry. I want to know what kind of crappy friends the author has.

Why do I feel deja vu? I'm back in front of a Disneyworld once again.. slightly fatter, slightly older. Hair is the same colour though. Hmm.

And... all Main Streets look the same around the world I guess.

However, California Disneyland seems to have Tomorrowland which Tokyo Disney and HK Disney lacked. And Thanks the Frogging Lord for that. Tomorrowland was EXCRUCIATINGLY boring [I'm bolding and capslocking that for any poor dumb idiots who want to check it out]. Like we went in and thought we were going to see a show, or an interesting talk. It turned out to be a ten minute advertisement for Honda which we couldn't get out of. People kept trying to wander off but they couldn't. Honda wants to make innovative cars. Got it. I felt sorry for the guide who had no chance to be entertaining. No way-no how. When we finally got out of that talk, we were introduced to a virtual house with digital photo frames and changing wallpaper. There was no exit. We spent ten minutes trying to get out. Tomorrowland took twenty five minutes of my life which I will never get back. Thanks Walt and Honda.

The world's most dysfunctional family posing as a functional one. More about that later.

She looks so serene in this photo. And my stepmother is... never serene. However don't be fooled. She's actually sleeping.

The last time Kejiim, Mexicana, SB and I were at Tokyo Disney- the wait for Small World took about an hour and the hour wait made us deliriously cranky. And by the time we got in there was never any chance that we were going to be in the mood for psychadelic dolls singing the same thing over and over in eighteen different languages. This time- no lines! it was so much better- I took more time to appreciate the effort it takes to putting something like that together. I however don't think I will ever be able to convince any of those three to try and retake it [through obviously extenuating circumstances]

Yeah... Tim Burton! [More on that later too]

Outside Madam Tussauds. With Snoop Dog. Seriously I'm about as hardcore as a donut. Snoop Dog is super skinny.

How good would it be to be a guy lean out your window of that hotel and be like giant breast! Hell yeah!If you can be dead for umpteen years and still make guys that happy then more power to you sista.

Those crazy clams.. We drove past a Scientology office which was a purely based 'Celebrity Centre'. The idea was intriguing to me. What do you have to do to be considered a celebrity? Do you just have to appear on tv? can you be a z-list actor from Big Brother? or do you need a minimum of four lines featured in US magazine? How exactly is that measured?

Universal Studios:

There was almost no people in Universal Studios. It was a ghost town. Which reminds me we went through the House of Horror. Bejeebus, that was scary.

My stepmum did a crazy dance with Crash Bandicoot and Woody Woodpecker. I wish I had videotaped it. And behind them was Fievel! I screamed and ran to Fievel and babbled something like 'OMG. I grew up with you. I used to sing Somewhere Out There to myself when I got lost! Aiieee!'

Of course Fievel didn't reply and it was then I realised how small Fievel really was. Inside that suit Fievel was either a midget or a child actor. Neither with any capabilities to fend off deranged fans with rose coloured memories [I just remembered that Fievel ended up in New York where I was headed- hows that for synchronicity?]

Curious George's Rocket runs on water. Think about the implications of that!

My brother's head is stuck. Darn.

So we took the Universal Studios Tram Tour. And you know what? I was seduced. For five and a half minutes there- I was going to pack up my bags and all of my things and become an actor or a gaffer or something, anything which would let me work on the Universal Studios backlot. Of course I came back down to earth but a girl can dream.



Who needs the Kwik-E-Mart!! I doooooooooooo!

We went on the Simpsons Rollercoaster Ride and there we encountered four of the dumbest people I have ever met. I have no idea where they were from but they were... stupid. We went to wait in a room full of tv screens and we were waiting patiently, when one of the dumbasses starts getting annoyed and asks the attendant whether what we were in was the ride.

Attendant: Uhhhhhh.... no. This is the waiting room.
Dumbass: So this is not the ride?
Attendant: No.
So Dumbass shoves past him and tries to get in the room where the rollercoaster is. Which is locked naturally.

Attendant: .....
Me: .....
Attendant: Excuse me sir, it is not your turn yet. The ride is not ready. Please wait in line.
Dumbass returns to his friends and starts mumbling something thats probably not kosher for this blog.
I'm hoping he gets a Darwin Award at some point. Ergh.

Chinese cough lollies. The poor unloved sibling to a Strepsil. And it tasted like it too.

Onto Las Vegas:

Here's the thing about Las Vegas. I was expecting to love it. I mean two years ago I was contemplating on getting married there! I tried really really hard to fall in love with it but the thing is you can't make yourself fall in love with anything and ain't that the truth of it. There were bits of unexpected beauty which I managed to capture, but on the whole I was .. I guess I wouldn't return unless I had to.

Here was the other thing, I hadn't seen my Stepmum and Dad for a good two years and last year I cut off contact with them because I was starting to find that they were just not good for my mental health.

I wanted to take some of this trip and gage where our relationship was and whether it could be repaired.

What I figured in Vegas [and from studying them in LA] was this: They needed a lot of work. Whatever problems that they had with each other and with themselves needed to be fixed before I can [or could] even contemplate trying to do damage control.

Watching them was like watching a horrible play in passive-aggressiveness. She would do something annoying or silly, and then he would get angry and say something rude or mean. Something to put her down. I don't really want to give examples. She would go quiet and ten minutes later, she'd coo and try to get back on his good side.

If this happened enough, she would throw an almighty tantrum at everyone else. In a public space. Like in the middle of a shopping centre. She would cry or yell - I think at one point she blamed us for giving her cancer.

It gave me a headache. And after four days of it, I was starting to have enough. I was keeping my distance and when he started getting short with me, I backed right off.

And here came the revelation. I didn't care that much anymore. Two years ago, there would have been tears on my end and probably a weepy phone call to SB. If they were going to be kind and responsive to me then I was going to be kind and responsive back but if they were going to get nasty or backhanded then I was going to run for my everloving life. So for the first part of Vegas was very muted and unhappy for me but as soon as I set out on my own I started seeing that Vegas was kind of beautiful. I guess you can see that there are not too many pictures of me with anybody else. I spent a lot of time in Vegas trying out my own company and figuring out being alone.

We stayed at the Luxor. [I didn't take this photo so don't sue me for it!] and while it was nice on the outside, it's a tomb... so it's supposed to be dusty on the inside? I don't know? It was pretty dusty. Everything was very matchy matchy -we had hieroglyphic sheets. What was cool about the Luxor is that the lifts go diagonal instead of up and down.

See this stupid machine? I thought you could pull the lever like a normal machine. The lever does not move. I think someone on youtube has a five minute video on me trying to pull an unpullable lever. And also I didn't win. Boo.

As soon as I walked past this- I thought 'Dave has a little weenie!' and then I had to go off and giggle against a wall for ten minutes.

These were lucky elephants. Apparently the sign said two had been stolen already and could they please be returned? I think that they were kind of pressing their luck by leaving the other elephant out.It was an animatronic croc. He comes out and yawns. I mentioned to my Dad that the hat was emasculating. I think it's the only time he laughed at something I said the entire time.


Beautiful right? I asked the lady for a little cream. That's what Americans call 'a little cream'.


That guy at the back was my parent's friend and he was seriously the worst driver I've ever seen. They guy doesn't drive inside the lines. He doesn't indicate. And he admits that he doesn't have very good vision. We spent a lot of time looking for the car in casino parking lots. I give you free permission to make a joke here about Asian drivers.

Onto New York:

"If I could make it here
I could make it anywhere
That’s what they say"

-Empire State of Mind Part II, Alicia Keys

The first glimpse of Times Square absolutely blew me away. And I knew I would love New York.

I wasn't sure if it was the same library? But that's the Ghostbusters library right? It was closed off and I wanted to go in and look at the stacks. Go find myself a little purple lady ghost.

That's so New York. I had to take it really quickly though because people were starting to walk into my vision. And I had a feeling they would have no hesitation in pushing me away.


Right. I have no photos of the Tim Burton Exhibit at MOMA because they wouldn't let us. But needless to say it was awesome and I'm still kicking myself because I should've gotten myself a copy of 'The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy' [yeah we definitely will never get that in Australia. Ever.] but I'm just really really happy that I was lucky enough to catch the exhibit.

Oh, they let us take photos of Monet though. Someone forgot to tell the boy that his paintings are a big ol' mess.


More Times Square.Chinatown. [Sorry, I'm starting to get typing fatigue]

I looooove this picture. They look so happy. It's one of my favourites.


And then I took them to the Museum of Natural History and Brother 2# goes absolutely bananas with the camera- he takes over 200 photos alone of different exhibits. The first camera runs outs of battery and the second camera runs out of memory. Brother 1# had to find a bench from exhaustion. I'll spare you the 200 photos but you should really go take a look yourself if you're ever in New York.


Did you know that they regularly find giant squid suction scars on sperm whales? Who even knew that they fought?? It's so bizarre.

Seriously, so pretty.St Andrew, the patron saint of... a whole bunch of countries. I really wonder if the statue is solid painted rock or if its plastic. I doubt it's gold ..

The supreme court! Makes our own courts look a bit dinky.

And the financial district which was quite dim and overbearing. It came out nice in the photo though. I walked round and round Ground Zero looking for somewhere to pay my respects but there was nothing. They're building over it at the moment.

And that's the Statue of Liberty. You know I expected it to be bigger....


And here we come to Central Park. And you know Central Park is all hyped up and.... in all honesty, I realise that there's not much green in America and New Yorkers are just appreciating what they've got.... but heck, it just looked like the parks that we have back home, but colder.I gave it a shot for half an hour but the cold drove me back out.. and also there really was not much to see. The engraved benches were cool though.

I didn't take any photoes but I took both brothers to see Avenue Q. No-one told me the muppets would start having wild raunchy sex! If I had known I would've dragged them to see Mary Poppins! On the other hand I've been constantly singing "It sucks to be you...." for over 72 hours.

Roosevelt Island: Picturesque. Much bigger than we expected.
And so most of the cousins decided to take a day off together, and we vetoed playing basketball and the haunted corn maze was closed [sighs] so I had the bright idea to take a cable car to Roosevelt Island because none of us had ever been. I think Brother 2# called it that 'stupid dumb island'. I didn't think it was so bad.

Brother 1# attempting a backflip. We hadn't seen grass this green for close to three weeks. It was fricking amazing.

The remains of the Smallpox Hospital. They're rebuilding it. It's much creepier in person.


One of the ideas that we had was to go ice skating, but Brother 2# was so adamant against it that we vetoed it. Oddly enough, he was happy to skate on the little patches of ice around Roosevelt Island.It's a little bit like a Country Road Ad.
Those crazy kids were going to try and attempt backflips. They chickened out. Ha.

The temperature was close to one degree. That pole was nutso cold.

My last night in New York. What a view.

So that's it I guess. There's nothing else to add. I went and I got some perspective. I saw as much of America as I could in two and a half weeks.
I figured out somethings can't be fixed if the other person doesn't want to fix it.
That you can't get over things until you're really ready. And it's taken me well over ten years to finally break free and to not be hurt and be personally affected by their words and their actions. I don't know if that makes me a terrible daughter but I do know that my protective coating just got a little harder and I'm thankful that it finally did.

I finally met my grandmother and she's a dear old lady. I guess I'll talk more about it some other time.
I didn't say goodbye to my Dad as I left. I guess we're not even on square one anymore- we're probably on minus squares.

When I got back to Sydney, I almost cried when I saw the sheer amount of blue and green. My mum and my stepdad were waiting for me at the gate with big smiles, hugs and lots and lots of outpourings of love. Home.

My little brother

So my brother and I were sitting in the back of the minivan on the long long ride to Vegas. And all of a sudden he says "Needles!"

and I'm "Needles?"

And he says "We just passed Needles, California - where Snoopy's cousin Spike lives."

I can't tell you how proud I am to have a little brother who is proficient in Peanuts trivia.

LA Experience 1#

You know I thought LA would be much weirder and much more plastic-ky than I thought, but clearly I am hanging around the wrong places because LA is just suburbs and freeways and fast food restaurants. Where are all the pretty people?! Why does everybody here drive so badly? Bah.

I say Bah. No freaky deaky stuff.

Well no two, and they both involve giant puppets [giant costumed puppets and I have some sort of mutual connection .. if you may remember Chip [or was it Dale?] dropped my camera].

So when you go to Hollywood Walk, I saw Snoopy! and I was OMFG. Snoopy. I must take a picture with Snoopy. I'm five and a half years old if you haven't figured that out yet. So I went and took a picture with Snoopy and then Snoopy turns to me and says "That's a dollar." Snoopy was charging me! I scrambled around in my wallet and I didn't have anything but a fiver.

"Um... Snoopy.... do you have change?"
"Of course." And he opens the pocket in his paw, and starts counting out ones..
It was surreal.
I was doing a cash transaction with a man in a dirty Snoopy suit. Is that a bit David Lynch or what?

I wandered away sort of dazed and then all of a sudden someone looped their arm around me, I turned around and uhhhh... Spiderman was draped around me.
"Where are you from?"
"I'm from Sydney"
"OH. Do you know Canberra?"
"Yes, It's a giant roundabout."
"I'm from Wagga Wagga."

Ok, I couldn't see his face but I could hear his voice and he clearly was not from Wagga Wagga.
He peers at me [as best as someone in a mask can]
"Do you know Wagga Wagga?"
"Yes."
"hmm..... you're kinda hot."
I undraped him. "Thanks.......... Spiderman."
And I wandered off again. Did I just get hit on my Spiderman??? or an approximation of..?

Only in LA right? Off to Vegas tonight.

Time for a holiday

"New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There's nothin' you can't do
Now you're in New York
These streets will make you feel brand new
Big lights will inspire you
Let's hear it for New York, New York"
-Empire State of Mind, Jay Z

I'm leaving! See you guys in three weeks.

[Lock up your kids! Imma coming!]

I hate tours

So I was on the phone to my stepmum today finalising details of flights.. and she was excited "Oh, we're going to go to Disneyland and Vegas, and I think we're going to take a tour!"

I said politely, "Oh, A tour. How nice" and then I got off the phone and started doing a frantic dance of eurrrrgggggggghhhhhhh.

At the risk of coming off completely bratty [and what the hell I am bratty, but I don't dare you to say that to my face] in a world where there are people who can't afford holidays and are barely putting food on the table...

I hate tours. I hate them. I hate getting shepherded on and off buses like sheep. In fact, I hate buses. I hate tour guides telling lame jokes that they've told til they develop permanent monotone. I hate not properly being able to explore a place without being ushered back into the bus. I hate stragglers that make the bus wait. I hate looking at the back of people's heads for seven hours, I've already sat on a plane for seven hours. I hate when tour guides point out something that only one side of the bus can see. I hate being seen as a tourist [even if I am- I don't need you locals to excess judge me more than you already are!]. I hate being taken to places that are so obviously tourist-y, and cater exclusively to idiots on tours with overpriced elephant carvings and fridge magnets. I hate that everybody buys those fridge magnets.
I hate the line getting off the bus. I hate the people that come back early instead of exploring so they can snag a seat on the bus- those people are the biggest douchebags of all time.

Do you get that I hate tours and all that they represent? Argh. Give me a map and some sneakers any day of the week.

Shipwreck by Dan Rhodes

I read this and at first I yelled "WHAT!" and then I re-read it again and I laughed. And then when I did another re-read I was once again outraged. I love it.

Why I miss my parents

I mentioned to Coconat vaguely the other day that I really miss my parents. And she was like "Why??" and all I could say was.. It's just been a really rough year.

And so I came home today and all my clothes were laundered and neatly folded on my bed. I could see my mum had left me a beanie, a pink jacket and a travel kit to take to New York. I wobbled and then I was.. trying really hard to be good and adult and not sob all over my neatly laundered clothing.

I opened the travel kit and there was a sleeping blind fold, earbuds, socks, a toothbrush and ..a bottle of Plax

And that was pretty much it. I was crying over a bottle of mouthwash. Foetal mess that I am. And that's why I miss my parents. After a really long day at work, I know that there are people in the world who care about me and my oral hygiene. It's good to feel loved.

Pool Party Etiquette

So I'm sitting on the edge of the pool last night [It was a pool party, I thought I should get out more] next to Ms Smith. And I was just staring into the distance, not being the life of well, anything. W squeezed in front of me to talk to Ms Smith and suddenly I was not staring at pool, I was staring at the back of her shoulders. If I leaned forward I could have headbutted her into the water.
She picked a really bad moment to get into my personal space.

And so I iced it up as only I can do "W, I don't know if you realise it but I'm still sitting here."

"Oh sorry Mush, I was trying to squeeze you out." she [half?] joked.

"Clearly."

She moved back awkwardly and tried to talk over me to Ms Smith, but it was probably not that much fun with me glaring at her. Oh, for fucks sake- if you want to talk to her so badly- she actually has another side to her body. You could try sitting on her left hand side, and then talking to her would not involve leaning over me. Look the left hand side has metres and metres of space!

Two more minutes of withering looks and she gave up and disappeared inside. And then all of a sudden I was exhausted, and it occurred to me that getting worked up over someone as trivial as W was pointless. I was not in the right mood for this and I was definitely not pool party material. I didn't belong there and I wanted to go home.

Tim Burton at MoMA

Omg. Omg. Omg. I just realised that they'll be having a Tim Burton exhibition at MoMA while I'm there. I'm off to do some squealing and then I might just pass out in a dead faint.

How you doin'?

I don't want to date you:

- If you have a moustache, look like Mario [the plumber] and have a girlfriend.

- If you've slept with two of my workmates already and wake me up with text messages in the morning asking if I'm in bed with someone [It's none of your business, you inappropriate tool]

- If the only thing you've read since high school is the daily telegraph and a golf magazine. I really believe that we have nothing in common and you should continue on your way.

So I wish the three of you the best of luck in your future endeavours but if you don't bugger off and stop contributing to my already overwhelmingly negative view of the male population, it's going to get really ugly when you finally see me snap it.

[I'm somewhat cranky today. I'm road-raging. Work-raging and just raging raging. Thank God I leave the country soon]

Mush's Animal Rescue

I was walking home yesterday after dinner with my parents when I saw a kitten sitting in the middle of the road crying.

Seriously, what kind of heartless mofo would I be if I left it in the street to get killed? So I coaxed it into the nearest apartment garden and I was stumped. Now what?

[It was now blissfully ignoring me and stalking an insect. It was very cute]

I looked up and I saw a guy on his balcony watching us. He was also kinda cute. But now was not the time.

"HEY DUDE, IS THIS YOUR CAT?"

"No, Is it lost?"

We backed and forwarded a little bit but he was clearly as stumped as I was. And it looked like it was about to start pouring rain.

The cat lost interest in the insect and started crying again. At the guy on the balcony.

"..Do you want a cat?"

There was only one thing to do, and that was take miserable kitty here to the shelter except my car was parked ten blocks down and I am not adept at cat holding. Dog holding, I'm a master. Cat holding, no. So I called Egg to pick me up. Except that today he didn't have the car. Fuck. I would have to pick it up and hope to God it wouldn't want to maul me. For ten blocks. I didn't like my chances.

For the 45,000th time this year I wished that Mexicana or Sb were still around to tell me what to do. The two of them were much more cat-oriented than I am. But of course life moves on and we [cat and I] were about to get soaked, so I hauled up my courage and I picked it up.

I don't think I picked it up right.

I know that technically I'm supposed to pick it up by the scruff but that looks like it would really freaking hurt. So I put two hands under the body and held it away from me so it wouldn't scratch me. It cried the entire way and when I mean the entire way, I mean the two blocks that we managed to walk. With me panicked, and the cat entering mewing hysteria.

So two blocks in and cat had finally had enough of being carried like a leprous football and it squirmed out and hid under the four wheel drive.

Eight blocks to go.

And then another round of coaxing. Once again, dogs are easier nad come when you call them. I called Egg again.
"She's under the four wheel drive! Now what?!"
"Crawl under there and get her."
"What."

I was not going to crawl under there so I waited and waited. And this is absurd. Stupid cat.

Finally she [I don't know why it's suddenly a she] came out and I picked her up, she did another "I don't like this!" squirm and disappeared down the path and up a tree.

Ok, chances of me climbing a tree on my wedge busted ankle: none

Sometimes you just can't save something that doesn't want to be saved.

Do you believe in God and karma?

I was really pissed off with this stupid dinky mazda for parking in two spots, I'd been driving for half an hour looking for car space and I was giving myself a headache from being furious.

So the best solution rather than snapping off their windscreen wipers or giving the car a good kick was to write a note.

A really really angry note. Preferably starting with "Hey. Asshole."

However when I finally parked and started to rummage through my car and my bag, I gave a big fat sigh when I realised I had no pen.

I would just have to deal with lifting their wipers up and hopefully he/she would get the message. It wasn't the 'you have a face like a pizza' that I had planned but it would do.

And then wouldn't you know it, I walked past a pen. A pen just sitting there on a wall with a little halo shining around it [ok, I'm kidding about the halo]

If I haven't talked up my neighbourhood enough these last few months, it's not the kind of suburb where you find random items laying around. Especially pens at eyeline. I wasn't sure if it was some sort of a miracle. Or a sign that God wanted me to write an angry note. Why would God want that right?

And so I dithered around the pen and I called Egg. He said it was a sign and that was good enough for me. While I was talking to him and starting the epistle [which did actually begin with "Hey. Asshole."] a pretty redhead walked past me, she gave me a sideways glance when she saw I wasn't doing anything interesting scribbling away.

A short and sweet note: Hey Asshole. You're a douche. This is a double space. Be more considerate.
Ok, so it's not Shakespeare but it was to the point. I put the pen back on the wall so it could continue on its holy journey.

So I walked down my street holding the note firmly in my clutched hand, sure that God was sending me on some sort of mission when I saw the redhead get into the mazda and drive off.

........... This is the part where I ask God what exactly do you want from me? Why give me a pen to write a note if you don't want me to place a note on the car? This is absurd right? On the other hand if I had not dithered around the pen and went straight for the wipers- the chances of her catching me and putting me into a choke hold would be around 99.99%. So maybe the pen saved my life. What were the chances of her walking past me while I was writing her an angry letter? I can't figure it out.

Just really really odd.

---

Pictures from the weekend.

Our feet. I'm on the left. You can't see but those are seven inch wedges. I really stupidly wore them shopping.

Egg and I were going to go to Sculpture by the Sea. However there were so many people that we decided to go be tourists somewhere else and so we hopped it to Watson's Bay.

Action shots! you know I've never taken one before. I think it turned out pretty good~ considering I look like I dropped out of the sky.




Yes, that's right. I'll be remembered forever in the lighthouse registry with 'Action shots are awesome!'

The road to anywhere.

I couldn't be bothered to photoshop my bags or my regrowth out. So nyeah to you Anna Wintour.

---

"One is the loneliest number
That you'll ever do
Two can be as bad as one
It's the loneliest number since the number one"
One, Aimee Mann.

I've started to inhabit the places that we used to frequent, thinking it's time to see them in a new light but all I see are visions of the two of us holding hands- where we used to sit- what we used to say. I close my eyes and when I open them, I hope that the landscape readjusts accordingly. But it never does.
In my minds eye, I see you leave me in thousands of ways. There are not many places where your shadow doesn't fall. I thought I was ready but I'm not.

Existential Angst

So I guess for a week or so now, I've had a nagging dissatisfaction pulling at me. I put it down to being overworked and overtired and just hoping that it'll go away if I focus on being optimistic.

And then it intensified these last few days and now I've started questioning my whole fricking existence.

Excess thanks go to Coffee - the only person who calls me at one in the morning to ask me what the meaning of life is

I have no purpose. No real reason for living. I wake up and go to work to pay my rent and I'm just chugging along thinking that there'll be some sort of breakthrough eventually. A light will shine on me and I'll yell "Hurray! That's why I'm here!"

I don't think that that's going to happen.

So I guess the whole point is that I have to look for it- but where do I find purpose? It's not something that you buy [actually you know what? That's not true. Some people live to buy a nice car] or something you find under the bed.

Where to start?

[This has been a remarkably short post about nothing, I did mention that I'm running out of words]

Run out of words.

"If you just realized what I just realized
we'd never have to wonder if
we missed out on each other now."

-Realise, Colbie Caillat

I don't feel like blogging much lately. I've run out of words. I'm fatigued trying to sell people on the advantages of tube clips.

Todays view #1

Building the roadblocks of happiness

"But just lately I have realised
The best is yet to come"
-Someone Like You, Van Morrison

I've been thinking [not very hard] about happiness. I've reached a plateau where I'm not sad but I'm not happy either- essentially I've flatlined. It can't be a good thing.

So now I'm going about my happiness in a more methodical way. I'm seeing it like lego blocks.

Pork roll - one block.

Close parking space - one block

Awesome night out with friends -three blocks

Eventually I figure that I 'll look up from my blocks and be like 'Wa-hey! I'm happy!

--

I was feeling really blah this morning [throat still hurts] and I was hunting around for socks. Mystic Meg had bought me a set of Hello Kitty socks in Hong Kong and I was wary about wearing them. I gave her a message " I have them in my hand. I don't know how to feel about this."

She msged me back "Just relax. Hello Kitty is your thing!"

So I put them on. I guess I'm not getting away from Hello Kitty products anytime soon.


I had to laugh after I put them on. I admit that they are hilarious.

Things that make me happy

I have never had any love for Buble. But I heard this on the radio yesterday and it made me happy!

And then I saw the video and I was.. well I was charmed [sif be so easily charmed- my generation should be appalled]



Now look here, how can anybody listen to this song and be like miserable and funky. You can't right?

[If you are not charmed, I suggest you go and see a cardiologist and check that your heart is not black and three sizes too small]

Throat infection

Looks bad.
Smells like mothballs.
Tastes like mothballs.

Being sick is an epic fail.

Weight Gain

Sorry guys, I've dropped off the face of the earth with a throat infection. If it doesn't lift soon I may ask the doctors to remove my neck.

I realise I've gained like five kilos lately [and I can see it in photos which will never see the light of day] but I didn't know how bad it was until I struggled to get into my jeans this morning. I stood there huffing and puffing and when I finally managed to sow them on- I could barely walk. This fricking sucks!

I always advocate the body beautiful and believe that women are beautiful no matter what their size.. [and yes this reeks of hypocrisy and some of you will accuse me of having a major case of BDM] but I feel really really uncomfortable. I'm heavy and I don't like it.

** Updated. I am not going on a diet. I am just going to buy bigger size pants.

Eternal optimism

"Today this could be, the greatest day of our lives
Before it all ends, before we run out of time
Stay close to me,
Stay close to me
Watch the world come alive tonight
Stay close to me.

...And the world comes alive"

-Greatest Day, Take That.

Jonathan Taylor Thomas

For a good part of my childhood and well up into my adolescent years I had a crush on Jonathan Taylor Thomas or as he was more affectionately known JTT.

He was so cute! And he seemed so bright! He was the voice of Simba! So... whats not to love right?

I vaguely recall doing a school project on him once. It probably wasn't particularly in depth.


Even now- over ten years later I can recall that he is a virgo. Seriously the things in my brain that I retain useless information for.

Anyway I was trawling the net today and I hit upon a discussion on 90's heart throbs [FYI, Jeremy London is about to default on his mortgage. Stars, they're just like the rest of us] and I discovered to my shock and anguish that..

.. JTT is gay.

Now what in the whatty now? It was like finding out the sun does actually revolve around the earth. I'm confuzzled! Things are not right!

Now I'm all for gay acceptance and whatnot but really my thirteen year old self mourns for the possibility that JTT is never actually going to swing by [well he might- right to my better looking half brother] and my twenty six year old self is a little dismayed that I spent all that time and hormonal energy obsessing over someone who bats for the other team!

Well who woulda thunk it really? [Actually I'm sure there are actually lots of smug guys who are sneering "I told you so. He was a cartoon lion- How straight could he have been?"]

Would be Banana Thieves

So Campbell and I were walking up to my apartment when she stopped and asked "What are these?" She pointed at three boxes.

M: Oh, those? Those are fruit boxes. My neighbours get them delivered because they don't want to go out and buy them I guess.

C: I feel like fruit

M: I could do with a pineapple. ..

C:..

M: Go on, get me a banana.

C: What? no.

M: Pansy.

C: I am not a pansy!

M: Then get me a banana!

C: Oh, alright....

She pulls her hood over her head so she won't be recognised and shuffles open to the styrofoam box. The styrofoam lid makes a squeaking noise- she panics and races up the stairs.

C: That was way too loud!

M: You really think they could hear a styrofoam lid through that door?? I want! my! pineapple!

C: I'll try again later... wait. What are you going to do with a pineapple??

M: Eat it.

Half an hour, I'm twisting her arm to get me some fruit. She makes her way slowly down the stairs and I'm holding the door open so she can run back through. She comes back and starts to laugh

C: It's gone! The box is gone!

So one of two things has happened. The neighbours actually heard the lid and went to save their fruit or someone else had the same idea and came and nicked it. It's clearly not a safe neighbourhood when people [like us] are out trolling for fruit.

Insight while running

Last night: not one but two phonecalls of girlfriends wishing to join me in goat herding solidarity. All you can do is listen; The urge is to wrap them in cotton balls to protect them from further hurt. Sending out hugs and support over the phone.

I hope they feel better this morning -I went for a run and at one point the sun made sparkles on the water and I had to stop and appreciate how pretty it was. The thought occurred to me that not a single one of these idiots is worth the pain that they cause.

What are those tears worth in the end?

Unrequited

Un⋅re⋅quit⋅ed
  /ˌʌnrɪˈkwaɪtɪd/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [uhn-ri-kwahy-tid]

–adjective
1. not returned or reciprocated

And that's the feeling for today! and it freaking sucks! (V.eloquent lately)


I seriously should not form attachments/have crushes/associate with men. Any. All. Period. I might go be a goat herder in the Himalayas- goats are less likely to make me want to rip my arm off and start beating people with it.

And the most absurd thing is: nobody knows! [I've totally become a character in Shakespeare play- just continuously talking to myself about my romantic failures] So tomorrow life will continue as per usual- except for my being one step closer to farming hollow-horned, bearded ruminant mammals in a mountainous region on the other side of the world.

More Weekend Bits

I'm really really glad to have my weekends back- it's been a long time since I've had them.

Last weekend and this weekend in pictures:

Starting with Egg's Single person fridge. I told him he'd have to get used to it. My fridge also looks like that. Except mine is filled to the brim with Red Bull and moldy lemons.

We put Ms Smith in the closet..

She likes it in there!

We call the beanbag Mike Wakowski- Egg didn't get the reference.

I dragged Mexicana and Zamil to the MCA. Love it. No photos inside- sorry guys.

It looks like a beautiful day right? It was until it started pouring like a mother...

Hahaha.. we didn't know that we would be wearing matching shirts. We're so cool.


I made Alvmah buy me a scrabble victory cake. Unfortunately the cake was poisoned. No, seriously.


Big ass strawberry!

Mmmpghghghg..

That's my pimp hat- Over a total of eight people wore it the entire night. It needs a wash now.

I love these two photos. My parents look so happy. Normally they're so posed and stiff in their photos. And you finally get to compare: I don't look like my parents. I'm so obviously adopted.

So MD and I had the bright idea to crash this 40years old birthday party- do you know how young people.. shuffle? Adults.. like to conga. This is a little known fact which I didn't discover til last night. Also two of them fell on their faces in front of me so apparently conga-ing is only for the really co-ordinated.
Observe. At some point the entire room with the exception of MD and I formed a line.






And.. the end of the night. Dapper Dans and gorgeous girls.

And that's it for me. I can't put my finger on this feeling - when I figure it out I'll tell you- going to stare at the ceiling for a bit.

In my hands

Everytime I see Mystic Meg, I annoy her to read my palms. I don't know why, she never tells me anything that I want to hear.

So the night before last night I shoved my hand in her face and said "Well?! Tell me that someone is going to ride up in a Prius and then whisk me away to a tropical island where I can read books and eat sushi."

She starts pulling faces at my hand. Like real sour faces.

Mush: Seriously you had better stop fkn pulling those kinds of faces at my hand!

MM: SB is still there

Mush: Where?

MM: He's in your hand

Mush: Come again?

MM: That line runs too deep, you'll be together again in three years.

Mush: No, we won't

MM: Yes you will

Mush: Where is my Prius driving entrepreneur?

MM: Oh there's a couple. But they're so flash in the pan that they're minute.

Mush: THAT'S THE MOST INCREDIBLY CRAP NEWS EVER AND ARE YOU FKIN KIDDING ME??

MM: oh, and you're going to be at the casino for a couple more years.

Mush: Why are you saying these things to me? Do you secretly hate me?


I get on the phone to SB after

Mush: Mystic Meg says we're getting back together in three years. Where will you be? Maybe we should consider moving to different continents.

SB: .....................

You'd think by now he'd be used to getting these kinds of phone calls. He is
apparently not.

---

I had dinner with my parents last night. My stepdad also reads hands and so I waved my hand around and demanded a re-palm read.

Stepdad: She's all wrong. You have a guy coming in soon. Christmas. And that's not three years- that's three boyfriends. Three serious ones in your lifetime.

Mush: Christmas?

Stepdad: Also your career is fine, so relax. Not much coffee making left.

Mush: OMG. I love you.

Mario Video

My poor neighbours.

I have a tendency to play music really really loud. Fire Engine loud. Now this may work in a townhouse- it doesn't work so well in a flat.

So tonight while I was stuck inside from the rain, it was 80's MTV night.

And this.



I realise that this is supposedly the worst song of all time. But fuck me, it's catchy.

And the clip is comedy gold. Lincoln standing up. The Giant Dice mowing down crowds of people. The consistent breaking of the fourth wall. The cardboard sets. And.. Marconi plays the Mamba! Whats not to love?

So my poor neighbours have had to listen to this on repeat almost the entire night. I figure I'll get a knock on my door soon to shut it and to please return to my regular programming of Britney and Lady GaGa.

Sex and the office

When you use the search function in this blog and you type in the word sex, you only get one blog post. So in the space of four years on this thing- I have mentioned sex once, so clearly it was heaps important.

I figure if I type sex more often- I should get more google hits. Ha. No longer is this blog going to be PG rated.

Because I was with in a relationship for so long and it was just there- I didn't pay that much attention to it. And now for fucks sake [please pardon the pun] people can't stop talking about it and I can't stop thinking about it.

Campbell: Why don't you have sex with person A#, person B# and or person C#?

Mush: You're going to have to stop talking about it. This dry spell is making me loopy. And also all of those people are people that you want to do!

Campbell: But I'm in a committed relationship so I have to live vicariously through you!

Mush: Come again now? You picked me to vicariously live through? A street lamp in Newtown at 3am is getting more action than I am.

Campbell: Do Smiley guy.

Mush: I hate Smiley guy and he probably has a small weiner.

Today it just got so much worse. I had this ridiculous snapshot effect going through my head the whole day. So I'd be typing about steam cleaners or hard drives and then all of a sudden I'd be flooded with images. [Don't ask me to explain what was in them, this blog is not R18+ yet] I'd had to stop what I was doing and just sit there and blush.

My face was on fire.

It got to the point where people started asking me about the rosiness of my cheeks. Am I running a fever? Is it hot in here? Um. A little.

The most hilarious part was I could not engage in any real conversation.

My lovely chatty workmate turned around and started talking to me about mooncake [Jeez, I hope it was about mooncake] and all I could say was 'uh-huh. yup mooncake. yes.' She looked at me concernedly 'If you're feeling a bit unwell- you should take off your hoodie. It's not that hot in here though. Want a pear?"

Another image flash. Oh God. The knees just did a small buckle. "What? pear? me?"

".. you really should go out and get some air."

And on it went. Til I got on the phone and yelled at Campbell for putting ideas in my head.

They say that statistically [I'm not going to google it] a guy at his peak thinks about sex for about sixteen seconds of every minute. If that's what entails being a guy- I don't want to be a guy... seriously how does anything ever get done?? If I were a guy I'd never get anything done! I'd just stand around with my hands in my pockets all day blushing. Do they just work around the feeling? or is the feeling just so normalised that it doesn't affect what they do.

I don't know.

I hope that I'm errr.. all better by next Tuesday and can fully conduct a normal conversation by then. And now I'm off to take a cold shower.

[I realise I've just written two posts in a row about not concentrating at work. I'm a hard worker. Really.]

Fiveoclockitis

Some people suffer from Mondayitis and some people suffer from Threethirtyitis [Thanks advertisements] and I have something called Fiveoclockitis.

Here are the symptoms of Fiveoclockitis.

-At exactly Five o clock for the last week I have felt really really mopey. It only lasts for fifteen minutes and is inexplicable

- It happened once at eleven o clock also with nothing preceding it.

Here is how it goes down

4:59 Lalala! All is right with the world!

5:00 .. what is this feeling?

5:02 .. are those?.. are those violins playing in my head?!

5:03 man, I feel shite.

5:06 :stares at computer screen:

5:08 ... This had better not be a regular occurence

5:08 45 seconds I hope my manager is not watching me. Maybe I should start looking more productive

5:10 :stares at computer screen:

5:11 Hmm.. violins are fading.

5:14 Shit! I have forty five minutes and seventy thousand things to do it in!

5:15 :frantically working and typing like a mad person. V productive:

And thats .. fiveoclockitis. I can only put it down to my sugar high wearing off by five- I have no other explanation for it [of course I could just be going mental. I can't account for the violins]