Out and about with the mobile

:( [I give up thinking up a title]

It's the rain.
Or it's the lack of sleep.
It's the lack of attention.
It's listening to the same stupid song over and over again on Top 40 radio [and I never thought I would see the day come where I don't embrace Top 40 radio wholeheartedly.]

So mopey.

Sigh.

I need a Diet Coke. A hug. A bouquet of posies. Why is my apartment lacking in all of these things? I don't ask for much!

I read somewhere once that dolphins stay away from depressed people. Now that I think about it- that may be the stupidest thing I've ever read. I'm pretty sure dolphins don't really care if you're sad.

--

My mum knows how to make me laugh. She starts a phone conversation with "How do you defrost a fridge?" and ends a conversation with "bai..BAI!" and it's really enough to give me the giggles.

Giggles make everything better. Mums make everything better.

When this rain clears I'm going to go look for a fizzy drink and some affection.

Love in all its disparities

Here are the opposite ends of the spectrum:

She calls me and she's crying. He's breaking her heart and he won't stop hurting her with words. Don't you ever believe that words would hurt less than a slap. It's so easy to find the right words to hurt someone with. She says 'He says he never loved me. He never loved me this entire time.'
The ache of it vibrates right through the phone. You don't have the heart right now to tell her to tear it off. She can't hear you through her wall of pain. And as her friend, you do what you have to do. You stand there and you listen to it. If he knew how much damage he was causing to her, would he stop and reconsider?

--

Betty and MK got married on Friday in the Hunter Valley. And I was fortunate enough to be there to witness it [well most of it.]. They just radiated love and tenderness. How many couples do you know that radiate love and tenderness? At one point, she retold an anecdote which she had mentioned to me before. What is the secret to a long and successful marriage?

"Do everything together. Go to the supermarket together. Do ordinary everyday things together. When you go for a walk, go with each other. And when you go out separately, make sure that you come home together. It's all about being and wanting to be with the other person. And that's the secret to a long and successful marriage."

I think that she might be right.

--

"I'd rather have nothing then settle for second-best. I just wouldn't want to be with someone I didn't feel passionate about"

"Well I'd rather settle than have nothing."

I wonder where Coconat and I will be in five years. The incurable romantic and the hopelessly practical. What are the chances that she and I will have switched attitudes?

Happy Halloween

Do I or do I not make the best ghost ever made? I seriously should die and come back as Sadako [haha, oh the ironic circularity.. it kills me.. (oh, I did it again.)]

I spent the entire night scaring people inadvertently. I walk into a room- I scare the beejesus out of a gaggle of schoolgirls. I walk out into the street and someone on a balcony has a heart attack above me. I think I destroyed the mind of some poor guy on uppers in the middle of the party- everytime he walked past me, he would mutter "creepy.. so creepy. Creepy."

At the same party, a stranger tapped me on the shoulder and said in her best complimentary voice. "You are the scariest thing at this party." And I said back in my politest voice. "Why, thank you very much."

There's something about Sadako that gets under the psyche of people. Nothing prepared me for the spectacle of watching her squirm and writhe out of the tv, a 5 metre tall terror, I had one hand over my eyes and one stuffed firmly between my teeth- the only time at a cinema where I ever felt like screaming aloud.
I remember very distinctly placing a scarf over the tv across from my bed after I finished watching it. That scarf remained there for the next five days.

It's 11:02 on a Sunday night, happy Halloween folks! It's almost over for another year.

Ungrateful princess

So this morning, I woke up with a total case of the weh weh wehs. You know I can't do the gracious princess thing every morning. And how come I have to be un-high maintenance? I am undoubtedly ridiculously high-maintenance, that's just the way it is and the way I am and I demand you deliver me a sour cream bagel and a diamond encrusted tiara now. Now.

Of course when I finished having my little tantrum, I felt ashamed and a little put-out. I really am very lucky and I have a very good life with or without the bagel. Good thing no-one can see me when I have my morning spazmoids.

It's funny because it's true.

Manager: Some people are rude and they just don't know they are.

I bite my tongue in half trying not to laugh out loud at the irony.

The Farmer's Wife

[After battling over an hour of traffic for a trip that's under 5km!]
Mush: Oh I can't do this anymore. I should just go marry a farmer and live on a farm
Mexicana: AHAHAHAHAHAHHA.. *gasp... AHAHAHAHAHAA
Mush: What.
Mexicana: Nothing.
Mush: Just say it.
Mexicana: You are the most-unfarmiest person I know. You will not last. You will die. Of boredom.
Mush: I need to retire.
Mexicana: On a farm?
Mush: I could live on a farm. I wouldn't be the farmer so there'd be no hard work involved. I'd be the farmer's wife. I wouldn't have to do anything. I like ducks.
[Some lady walking beside me listening to this whole thing on speaker starts grinning at me!]
Mexicana: okay, you retire at twenty seven on a farm. I support you.
Mush: Are you patronising me?

Dark Side

**I just had to come back and post this because it made me laugh so hard that I almost fell off my chair.

Random thoughts for 19/10

• Apparently Get Off Facebook and Pray is happening right now. I wonder if all those Christians are actually getting off Facebook and praying or if they're going off to surf.. Gizmodo or something [I was going to say porn, but I didn't want the almighty to zap me]

• One day, they'll organise for Diet Coke to be pumped directly into our veins so we don't have to go to the convenience store and hang out for it like addicts. Until that day we're not fully evolved as a society people. Bring on the Diet Coke IVs.

• Last month I hacked off hunks of my hair because it was annoying me [shock me, shock me shock me with your deviant behaviour!] and normally after I've done that, my hairdresser can spot it straight away.. did you CUT YOUR OWN HAIR? But he didn't say anything last month- I was wondering if I should attempt it again but I don't want him to yell at me. I live in fear of my hairdresser. What kind of way is that to live?

• Pigeons die with their feet up. Like cats.

• Coconat made up a term today which I just fell in love with and died over. Banter slut. That is seriously the most perfect and apt description I have ever heard. If you banter with everyone and you fall for people over it. That's what you are. A banter slut.

• If you're going to let Obama on Mythbusters at least let him blow up something. That is the whole point of Mythbusters.

• #Kanyeshrug!

• That's just nuts. How can my neighbour be going at it now?? It's 7:58! Cook dinner! Watch some tv. Do a crossword. Anything. Stop moaning.

• Speaking of sex [at 11:00 last night]:

Mush: He did WHAT.. he WHAT.. he ate her WHAT ... WHERE?.. WHAT?!
She: Do you feel better?
Mush: WHAT. NO. *splutter splutter

Sometimes I feel I should turn the conversations that I have with my friends into comic strips. Except that they would find out and kill me. But try playing mad libs with that one.
He [verbed] her [body part] at [something something location].

• I cannot stomach watching that Willow Smith video doing the internet rounds.. I just can't. Yes you whip your hair back and forth- go home- you're nine.

• And on a final note. I want it bad. I want it so bad. I would skin a hundred puppies for that gloss. Not real puppies of course. But *muffled sob! wtf. Okay, fine I'll trade in my soul for that collection. I would have no soul but my face would look great.

Always with the wonder

I don't know how I got here. I've always trusted in a divine plan that will ultimately lead me to where I'm supposed to be. I think that's why in some ways my life lacks direction because I look for signs and goalposts and these signs and goalposts often take me right where I'm supposed to go- but in the most roundabout loopy way ever.

At least I eventually reach point B. But it's a constant existential crisis on the way.

When I look at him [and I figure he doesn't know I'm looking or maybe he does] I'm filled with just wonder. I can't think of a more appropriate word for it. This is nuts and this can't be real.

It's like a bizarre Christmas miracle that I can't explain. That I exist and that he exists and that we both exist at the same time. A thousand random events and errant molecules and purposeless spins to bring us where we are, and the eternal question of not understanding exactly what any of it means.

And then he reaches for my hand, and I don't feel the need to ask. I just let it be, because it feels right.

---

I'm lying on the grass and when I open my eyes, there's a hundred stars above me.

Random trains of thoughts

"She said...I keep on running, keep on running
and nothing works"
-Erase Me, Kid Cudi

--

Can yellow Yoshi save green Yoshi from being crushed by a giant handbag? Stay tuned!

--

Sorry, I honestly can't keep a single train of thought going lately. I need a holiday. I can't remember the last time I didn't feel tired. I think I'll quit just to stop being exhausted. I'm starting to resemble Edward Norton in the beginning of Fight Club, except I don't collect Ikea products. I'm not angry enough to smash in the windscreen of a VW. And if Tyler Durden hit me- I'd probably cry and roll foetal. But other than that- he is me. [or Tyler is me? Are we all confused yet.]

--

It's constantly raining outside.

--

I don't understand where homeless people get their magic markers from. When I'm homeless [and you will know because I'll not be blogging anymore..] is someone going to give me a texta for my signs?? I can't sing like Kesha.

--

Mush: It just occurred to me ask you right now [in the middle of dinner] Are you happy?
Noodle: Extremely.
Lately everyone I see is content but no-one is happy. 2 out of 15.

--

Yesterday my work-partner quit and walked out, she wasn't happy. She wasn't happy with management, she wasn't happy with how we were being treated, so she just up and left. Her last words to me were "Don't let them badger you."
I am in no position to up and walk so I bit my lip. I bit my lip through management's entire speech. My mouth is still tender today.

--

Still with the writers block did you notice?

Where I am

So here I am forcing myself to write. Write about what I have no idea. This is off to a good start clearly.

Lately I've been a total space case, I'm either daydreaming or sleeping. Trying to get my attention is really hard. It involves waving at me continuously. I leave things everywhere [did I mention I left my phone in the car yesterday and had to hike 2kms in my pyjamas to retrieve it? That was fun.] I've stopped eating. I do things and then kind of forget that I'm doing them.

If this keeps up, eventually I'm going to be the new inventor of Flubber or something.

But most of all I've stopped writing. People are complaining. So here I am. Trying to think of something concrete to blog about.

This is not working.

All my neighbours are nuts. I have the Chinese pornstar next to me screaming at all hours of the night and then diagonally across I have the stressed out lady who's running around trying to kill the people downstairs by cutting their car brakes [do you think the pornstar contributes to the stress? Lack of sleep as a contributing factor maybe?] You'd think in a higher class suburb you'd have less incidence of sex and attempted murder- but no I'm starting to think it's roughly around the same amount.

Anyway. Writer's block.

During a particularly busy period last week, my manager leaned back and said "you know some people garden for a living... they just kind of potter around..." and then she looked kind of wistful. Do you know what? That's exactly how I feel. I'm starting to think I'm ready to retire. I just want to get up and paint for a bit. Play with the dog. Read a book lying on a bench and just do nothing. I say I never want to leave the city and I'll miss macaroons and chestnut dumplings and chorizos and phone reception but secretly? [or not so secretly anymore] if you moved me to a little property in the countryside and gave me a stack of books I probably wouldn't complain that hard. I get a daydream about raising ducks and planting lavender every time work gets stressful.

[Yes I know, ducks can get gross. I know they are messy and they just go to the damn bathroom everywhere. Shut up. My daydream ducks are clean and fly away for the winter so I don't have to go outdoors in the rain to feed them.]

--

I play one memory over and over in my mind. I'm sitting there on the bench waiting for him and I'm fussing around inside my handbag. When I look up, he's walking towards me and delivers me the biggest smile I've ever seen. I can't help but smile back. It was pure sunshine on a cold September night. And even now when I think about it- I get the fuzzies and I knock over things. [Ask me if my keyboard at work is ruined from constant drowning.]

I don't know what it was about that particular moment. But anyway now you know where my head is at. On a bench somewhere in a suburban mall.

And on the weekend

''Finds a convenient streetlight, steps out of the shade
He says something like, "You and me babe, how about it?"
-Romeo and Juliet, Dire Straits

---

Sorry I'e been a bit MIA. I'm distracted all over the place but at least you know I'm busy and keeping out of trouble. Here we go...

A good good night.

The sky is blue.
I just had a salmon [and sour cream] bagel.
The Ting Tings are playing on the radio
Life is full of possibilities.

And tonight I am going to go out and have fun. Be prepared y'all as Mush returns to the gutter for one final time [hello my old home!]. It's about to get really messy.

I promise photos tomorrow.

Lessons in sex and alcohol

Be warned I have a fluoride headache the size of Hiroshima.

--

"Parlez-vous Francais?
Oui!
Parlez-vous Francais?
Oui!
Si tu peux le parler allez tombez la chemise

Do it now because you can and I think you should
Do it now because you can and I told you to
Do it now because you can, I'll take mine off too
Do it now because you can, cause you can"
-Parlez vous Francais, Art vs Science

Well I did say I could speak basic French and thanks to Art vs Science I can now totally wander down the Champ Elysees (which is a busy street!) next year and tell girls to take their tops off. I don't know how well it'll serve me however since I'm going in February and it'll be cold and they're going to think I'm crazy. Digressing: If you do look for this song- don't go the original- look for the Hey Now Remix. It flows much better.

--
Since I had a bit of time this morning since Hexagirl was running late- I thought I would sort through my mail.

I don't think this photo can possibly convey how much junk was in my mailbox, but needless to say we can tell where most of the Amazonian rainforest ended up. Right here.


Anyway I was flipping through when I saw this .. What the hell- I don't think I ordered anything I wasn't supposed to order. I ripped open the classy black envelope. [I'm not riffing- I genuinely think/thought that the envelope was kind of classy.. and does my thumb look a bit odd??! I swear that's actually my thumb and I'm not flashing my bits on camera.]

and then...

..






Well seriously, I take off my hat to the marketers of this campaign. Nice hook. And good going with that envelope.

---

So I thought it would be a bright idea to go to the dentist. Who does that? Who voluntarily goes off for a bout of self-inflicted torture? Masochists like me apparently. After he was done, he prescribed me a bout of antibiotics for a mouth infection I didn't know I had. Awesome. Before I left, I asked him..

"You didn't say.. what am I supposed to not take with these? " [bonus points for superb grammar construction]

He smiles at me: "Cigarettes and alcohol."

"Oh. I don't smoke so okay."

So I drag my ass to the pharmacy where I am promptly served by a pharmacist who just graduated high school.

"So Mush, take these.. "

"Sure, just to clarify.. what am I supposed to stay away from?"

"Alcohol."

"Oh. Uhm. That's cool, I can do that. Er, how long am I supposed to take these for?"

"Seven days."

"Seven days??" I forgot that I'm supposed to be going on a trip next weekend and this is going to be a pothole on the highway to Port Stephens. I wonder if he prescribes valium. I stare at the packet. "Can this be shortened- do I have to take the entire packet?"

I had visions of wine tasting and drunken golf and beers in the sun.. and they start to waver in front of me like mirages. Frick.

He looks at me in consternation. "No. Finish the entire thing."

Those mirages flicker and disappear. Goodbye images! "Er. And what happens if I mix?"

He peers at me like I just asked him for a specimen cup to pee in in the middle of the store. "You will get really really really sick."

I think the expression on my face says it all. Crap.

He gives me the most exasperated look of all time, bar my mother. This 18 year old who just graduated from high school.

"Mush. Can you not go without alcohol for seven days?"

I just got told by a high schooler and my mouth hurts. The indignity of it all.

"Yes. yes. I can. It just puts a dent in my holiday. Excuse me." And I swish away.. likely to never come back to this pharmacy in case they tie me down to cart me off to AA.

--

So we're all sitting around eating dinner [and I guess it's not appropriate dinner conversation, but when is it ever?] but you put a bunch of twenty somethings around a table and the conversation is 75% of the time likely to turn to sex.

It just is. I don't know why.

And so Genki was talking about his proclivity for slapping people during sex. I almost choked on my boat noodles.

Mush: Wait. Are we talking about slapping on the ass or over the face?

Genki: Over the face.

Mush: You have got to be kidding me. Doesn't that hurt? Are they okay with that? So many questions!

Genki: I just kind of ease them into it.

And then everyone looks at me like I just arrived on a boat from China. I'm an illegal immigrant on the shores of a sexual continent or something. Apparently it's a big continent and I know nothing.

St Mary: Haven't you ever been slapped during sex? I have. It turns me off a bit

Donnie: I've done it. But not with St Mary.

Genki: It's my thing to do with my girls.

Mush: I think my brain exploded and is leaking out of my ears.. what is everyone talking about? Why would you do that? it would hurt! Who does that??

Genki: Have you never had make-up sex? Make-up sex is the best thing to have when you're both angry and fired up.

Mush: Geez, you would think slapping somebody would get them angry.

Donnie: Well the best thing for you to do would be to try it. In the heat of the moment say hit me! hit me! and then see how it feels afterwards, I guarantee you it'll make a huge difference. In fact, google it. They have studies on it... Best to try it with someone you trust though.

Mush: You kids are all just psyching me out right?

St Mary: Slapping is fine. I get really turned off by choking.

Mush: Choking?? What.

Genki: It's the closest thing to living and dying at the same time.

St Mary: You know what? Go ask Mexicana, I'll bet she's done it- she's pretty wild and adventurous with things like that.

Mush: You know if Mexicana was down with the whole slapping thing, I'm sure she would have told me. Wtf.

[Five hours later]

Mexicana: What? No! Your friends are weird! If someone slapped me I'd slap them right back. I would be majorly pissed off. I would not be turned on by it.

Mush: That's what I thought.

I guess when you think about it [and I really don't want to think about it too hard] I can see why people do it but I like my face most of the time, you'd be kind of hard pressed to explain the next day to all your workmates and friends why you have a goddamn handprint on your cheekbone. I walked into a door. My new blusher doesn't sit right. My boyfriend slapped me around sexually-but that's okay! I'm okay with it!

The bulk of it is that on some level it bothers me that anyone you trust would be willing to hit you even if you were a-ok with it. I suppose that if one day I brought it up with whomsoever I date, I would be reallyreallyreally relieved if they said "No, I would never raise a hand to you in any way even if it was in a permissive and sexual environment. And I would never want to hurt your face" As opposed to "Hey yeah! let's go! I have my high five ready!". Am I hopelessly naive to think like that? Big sexual continent.

2:25am

When you suddenly wake up and think how could you have stuffed that up so badly? Those doubts that you're doing the right thing are magnified when you're laying here in the dark staring at the ceiling. In the morning you'll be yourself again if you can just get over it and go back to sleep.

The best way to say it.

Well it's the best way to say it! Tell someone Fuck you through a jaunty song. Do it today!

The bigbigbig boss

So everyone had gone out to lunch and I was here working away like a demented chipmunk. This demented chipmunk likes her pop music realllllly loud and so I turned it up full blast.

After a couple of songs I thought, oh geez what if someone comes back early? I'm going to have some explaining to do. So I turned it back down and shuffled back to my desk.

As soon as I sat back down, I could hear someone coming up the stairs. And wouldn't you know it- the bigbigbig boss pops his head around. I have never seen the bigbigbig boss in person, only in the papers so I was a bit. Oh. Oh?

What the heck am I supposed to do besides smile politely, he has enough money to assassinate entire country towns, I better be on my best behavour.

[The fucking door just opened behind me as I was typing this scaring the holy ^%^%^%^&* bejeeebus out of me. Anyway I digress. ]

So he smiles at me, I smile at him and we're just smiling at each other like bobbles. Before he finally clears his throat and says "Where is everyone?"
"Uhm. Out to lunch I think?"

We do the smiling thing for a while longer before he excuses himself and exits the door behind my desk.

And ooh my song has just come up on the radio, so I think I'm free to turn it back up. I don't know if I can get fired for singing really loudly and out of key.

And we have a new PM!

And how do you like them apples, right wingers?? Are they tasting slightly sour?

Climbs back up onto my feminist soapbox

I'm going to dust off my little soapbox and get back on top of it. It really is getting a workout lately [yup. Kids? Also? Get off my lawn.]

So here are three conversations in the space of a day.

--
[At breakfast]
Matty: So would you drive a lamborghini? Actually no wait, what do you think of girls who drive lamborghinis.
JW: Oh, nah I wouldn't. And also hot. but possibly a prostitute.
Mush : [eyebrows start creeping up]
Matty: Ahahahahaha, Mush is thinking about taking one out for a day. Careful Mush!
JW: Well, really a lamborghini is not something a girl would ... choose.. they normally would pick something smaller.
Mush: With a handbag hook. Right?
JW: If you're going to take one out then you would be an exception. And anyway most girls don't drive manual
Mush: [eye roll] What is going on with the gender stereotyping at this table?
Matty: [grins] She drives manual. What are you doing Mush? Don't let him get away with this- let him have it!

[At lunch}
Mush: So anyway when I get to Europe..
Saint Mary: Wait, who you're going with?
Mush: By myself?
Saint Mary: By yourself...?
Mush: Yes.... what?
Saint Mary: You're going to Europe. By yourself. Isn't that dangerous? One girl by herself?
Mush: One girl? [splutters] I'm perfectly capable, where exactly do you think I'm going?
Saint Mary: It's not that. It'd be better for someone to take you around and anyway you don't even speak the language.
Mush: I speak French. I speak basic French. I can get around *exasperated* Why do I need to tote a guy with me?
Saint Mary: Oh, you speak French?
Mush? Is that going to make it better?

[And the last conversation of the day. Grr. I was grr the entire day]

Mush: I think the adrenaline outweighs the risk.
K: That's interesting. Most girls don't.
Mush: Don't put me in a box.
K: Sorry. I'm just generalising.
Mush: Yeah. Don't do that either.

Don't tell me my limitations based on my gender. If you think I can't do it, say "I don't think you can do it" based on my ability and not because I am the proud owner of a vagina. Don't assume anything about me because I'm female- because chances are I'll prove you wrong and I'll kick your ass while doing it. And if you say I can't do it because I am female, I'm going to go off and do it just to spite you because I am that stubborn.

Yes, I like the colour pink, Hello Kitty and fruity cocktails but that doesn't mean I need rescuing. I can still change my own lightbulbs and tires, I am perfectly capable of travelling alone without being kidnapped and you can try and drink me under the table, but the word is try. I take no responsibility when you pass out unconscious in a gutter somewhere.

Don't try and put me in your gender created little box because all you'll do is just really really annoy me. I'll tell you where you and your casual sexism can go. The cliff is that way.

Oh, and lastly before I get off this soapbox, for the 67,000th time in 67,001 conversations. I do not want to buy a Honda Jazz. I will never buy a Honda Jazz. I do not care if it has a handbag hook. God.

[I know it seems like I'm in a really bad mood, but actually I'm in an awesome mood-but I really needed to get that off my chest from yesterday. Grr.]

A bit blue and a bit pink.

For some reason I look best when I look sad. It's just that kind of face.

Pretty right?

An Early Birthday Present

Something like 3 weeks ago, it was R6's birthday and I thought I would be nice and get him something. According to everyone in the world, this was a tremendously bad idea. My argument was "What can be the harm in it? It doesn't mean anything. And you know what? If he suddenly bins me.. I can just keep it".

Well clearly I need to stop being so stubborn about absolutely everything because I went out and picked him up a Razer mouse anyway, ignoring all my friends trying to beat me around the head with sacks filled with rocks.

Of course, as we all know I've been unceremoniously binned. And I forgot about the mouse til today. Exactly five hours ago.

I was sent to work from home and I was getting frustrated because I wasn't moving those damn pixels exactly where I wanted them. Bing.

I eyed the bag. Oh what the hell. He's not coming back so I may as well open it.

... Deep breath.. OH HAI!

I pulled it from its plastic [and for some reason it comes with extra stickers? Where am I expected to stick these stickers?] and plugged it into my tower. And holy moly.. it's reallyreallyreallyreallyreally fast and oh so smooth and all those pixels were going exactly where I was pushing them. And can I just say this:

Hello lover. Where have you been my entire life?

Mexicana at some point messaged me "How is it?" I think in my delirium replied "It's so fast that I can't see where the arrow is."

"Nice."

There is only one problem with the mouse- the base is ultra slick so that it glides easier. My computer table is a horizontally propped easel, so when I'm not looking [and that's fairly often considering I'm easily distracted by chips] the mouse slides straight off the table and hurtles itself towards the floor.

Wtf with being a suicidal mouse. But other than that, I think I'm in love. Happy birthday to me, I really need to buy high tech gadgets for myself more often.