Mum made this gross satay sauce for dinner. It was to go on top of these meat-on-skewer thingys, and they tasted gross too. One of them tasted like car exhaust, and the other one tasted like bacon, but not in a good way. The satay sauce was the saltiest thing I have ever tasted. I think it’s because she put soy sauce in. We were all lamenting over the horrible taste, but all kept eating because we were starving. I tried to save the satay by adding brown sugar, but then it just tasted sort of sweet + salty at the same time. Lauren added crushed peanuts, but that made no difference. Mum was in her room on the phone while we were all out in the lounge room eating dinner (so therefore she didn’t hear any of the things we were saying about the meal). She wasn’t eating any of the meal she’d cooked – it was reserved for us – the unlucky few. Mum had a plate of cheese on toast… or a sort of cheese inside two pieces of toast, like a sandwich, and Rosie dared me to take the cheese off and throw it out, so that when mum came out and took a bite, there would be nothing in the middle and it would just be cold toast with salt & pepper on it. Lauren was laughing, but then when mum came out she told her what I had done. Mum’s in a bad mood. It was funny though… That sauce was funny.

I’ve got my final (at least I think it’s the final one) orthopedic appointment tomorrow at 11:30am. I’m wondering what they’re going to say… I’ll have to ask if they’re going to take the pins & screws out eventually. I hope so. It’s also Kirra’s birthday tomorrow. I’m not saying any more about it in case she goes online tonight and reads it (though I don’t think she will, but you never know. Murphy’s law is probably the safest for me to live my life by.)

I sent off my application for salary sacrifice this afternoon. I’m supposed to be working right now, and I just realised that for me to do two hours of overtime I’ll have to work until 10:30pm tonight.

Sucks. I guess I should go make some coffee or something…

Photos from Today – Me & Noelle going crazy with old magazines

Noelle and I made this sign for Rosie’s door – it says “I <3 late night lustings with dirty boys who are chicks, my preciousss”

Photos from Friday nite

Penny, Delia & Nathan

Dean, Calum & Mel

Ohhhhh this picture is so cute! Calum and Mel

…. Calum, Me, Mel & Tanya getting cut out of the photo

Chrissie, Penny & Nathan

Chrissie doing what she does best

Some sign on the wall at Dooley’s, inside a glass box with Action Man dolls inside. I have no idea what it means.

——————————————————————————–

Some quotables from work:

Boi: I don’t swallow
Emogan: So then where do you get your protein?
Boi: It comes in a suppository
Emogan: That was the best comeback
Boi: Literally…. No pun intended.

P: They speak English, so they’re normal people…

And from home….:

Cass: Hey look Rosie, a playground for you
Rosie: Why is it for me?
Cass: Because you’re a kid
Rosie: Hey look Cassie, there’s a wheelbarrow for you.
Cass: Why is that for me?
Rosie: Because you’re an idiot.

Tired. Wrist sore. Sick of people.

Okay. Not everyone, and not forever. But for right now, people are dumb and THOUGHTLESS. Oooooooooh crap another rant?

Tonight sucked. Got hit on by some gross guy who was so inebriated that he couldn’t understand a word we were saying, let alone make himself understood. And to make matters worse, he started talking in French. I spoke French back to him, and he said “whassss? whass you sssshaying?”. Dick. He had said to us, “Parlez-vous Francais?” And I said, “Oui!” But this sort of had him taken aback as I don’t think he expected me to say yes. This is the second time that a drunk guy has tried speaking French to me, without actually being able to speak the language. What is it about French? Do they think they’re being romantic, while drooling and spitting and hacking out some clichéd French phrase with an Australian accent thrown in? Do they think that it’s impressive? This is something taht I don’t understand. I said back to him, “Pourquoi as-tu dit que tu parle français?” But he couldn’t answer me. He also did that whole “Play it cool” thing like off the Simpsons, where grandpa simpson is teaching homer his smooth moves in winning the ladies. Which includes doing the yawn-stretch-put-your-arm-around-her-shoulder routine. And this was extended to lean-in-to-ask-a-question-and-surreptitiously-feel-her-leg-and-hold-her-hand-and-move-in-for-the-kill. GROSS. So I said, “I’m going to go dance.” and Noelle and I left him to his quest to get as intoxicated as possible without passing out. He wasn’t giving up easily though, and grabbed hold of my hand as we were walking away and nearly bruised my fingers, he was holding on that tight. God. Desperate much? On the upside, they did play some cool music. On the downside they had no aircon, and of course they wouldn’t have windows, and so it was so stuffy inside.

Anyway, now for a photo before I fall asleep at my computer: (I will post more photos from last night when I wake up tomorrow).

This is not so much a picture from last night as a picture from yesterday daytime at work. There is a sign in the stairwell that says something along the lines of “don’t feed the possums.” I have never seen a possum in the stairwell, and I would be inclined to doubt their existence if it hadn’t been for that damn Simpsons episode where Homer was the driver of the monorail and there were possums in the electronics closet or somewhere, and so that lends a bit more veracity and context to the sign.

So it was a bad day today. Bad bad day. I woke up late, felt sick this morning, so couldn’t start getting ready until around 7:30am, so didn’t end up catching the bus until 8:30am, didn’t get to work until 9:20am. Shit. This was a continuation of some of the bad feelings from yesterday. I had a bad day and I know I’m being immature and juvenile about it, but maybe I am not capable of reacting in a mature and responsible manner right now. Maybe it’s just not in me to do that. I hate it when a notion comes upon me and makes me feel a certain way, maybe about someone, and I just can’t shake it. And I would give ANYTHING in the world not to feel this way, anything. I would give anything in the world to just forget about it, or to have something waiting on the sidelines for a moment like this so I can grab it and say “See? I don’t actually care! here’s proof!” and even if it wasn’t true, it would be enough for relative normalcy to be reestablished and we could all just fall back into our usual roles, and I wouldn’t have to go over and over and over things in my mind, and feel like an idiot whenever I opened my mouth. I hate this feeling.

Emos have no concept of responsibility. As soon as something is difficult, an emo is nowhere to be found. As we were walking up the hill today, Rosie said “I don’t want to walk up this fucking hill.” But not in a resigned way that’s like, I hate walking up this hill but i know i have to do it to get home but more in a way that was like i hate walking up this hill and i am just waiting for something to come along so that i don’t have to. And she won’t brush her hair so she can get a job. I know that when I heard that song “Get a haircut and get a real job” I thought that it was just mocking conformists, but in all seriousness you really do need to just at least conform to their ideals for while you’re working, and then in your own time you can do what you want. Once you get a job, then test the limits a little bit and see how far you can go, but when you’re initially looking, an effort has to be made. Especially in customer service/sales assistant jobs, which is what all the emo kids would be looking for, if they’re looking for jobs at all and not just living off their parents. My god they’re going to DIE when they leave home and have to fend for themselves. They either curl into a ball and die, or they shed their emo ideals and start living in the real world. I understand this need to be yourself, to represent yourself and to live as you are and not to make apology for it, really I do. And I know that in a perfect world, you would be able to do that. But this is NOT a perfect world. It’s a shitty world. Emos should understand that most out of everyone, because they’re so SENSITIVE and FEELING.

Emoticons:

I will stop now before I cause more problems for myself than I already have. I”m sorry but I needed a rant.

In other news, Calumski & I went to see Nic and her brand new baby today after work. His name is Finn, and he was born last night by C-section, 9lbs. He was so beautiful! I’ve missed Nic, she lends a sort of calmness to the atmosphere at work. I held Finn and he was quiet and beautiful. I forgot to get photos. I am so vague right now. On the way up to the Mother’s hospital, Calum threw his cigarette butt into the bin and said “I don’t think that was fully out”. I said “Imagine if it lit the bin on fire, and they thought it was a bomb, and so they evacuated everyone, patients and everything, from the hospital.”

And when we got to the mother’s hopsital, we had just stepped inside and the fire alarm went off! Calum and I stood outside and laughed, and perved at the non-attractive firemen, and ate the free clinkers that the vending machine gave us. (It also gave me 60c extra change! yay.)

I am supposed to have an appointment with the Occupational Therapist, and I can’t remember when, and I think it’s tomorrow, but I can’t remember what time. Oh and also, after the *accident* with my arm, I went and got some x-rays done at (lol) “Savage X-ray”. I laugh because that name amuses me. I got to keep the x-rays this time, so I took pictures of them. They aren’t all that clear, because I had to turn the flash off and alwyas when I do that the camera switches to the “available light” mode and so therefore it has two shutter openings, and if you don’t keep the camera in the exact same spot for both then it goes blurry. Plus my one good arm is getting so tired of doing all the work that it’s sometimes shaky. Thank god it’s not too much longer til I get to leave my splint off. Though then I’ll have to be extra careful anyway… Ok. So here are the photos:

Robert has taken to calling me “Paperclip chick”, I think because one of the pieces of metal they put in there is shaped sort of like a paperclip. I don’t like the look of those pins that are sticking into the soft tissue between the radius and the ulna. I’m hoping that they do eventually take all that stuff out, once the bones have fully knit and healed. I hope I remember when my appointment is. I’ll have to call tomorrow morning.

I’ve been playing Norrath again now that i have some use of my hand back. I can only play for a short time and then my hand/wrist will get tired, and then i have to rest it for a while. I imported my character from my finished game, and started again from the beginning. My aim is to keep playing until I make an awesomely leveled character and then import her to Return to Arms. I like Dark Elf Shadowknight best of all, but I’m kind of regretting the fact that I didn’t name her something cool to start off with. Her name is “nit”. I dont’even remember doing that, but it might have been when I was just experimenting with the cheats to give the character a head-start with all attributes, not thinking I would continue playing with that character. I’m such a nerd. Anyway, this is my character, “nit”.

It’s a shit picture because I’m too dumb to figure out if I can hook my playstation up to my laptop, and if so, how to then take screenshots. So this is a photo taken with my digi on the tv. crapola.

I submitted my tax return forms last night, via e-tax. I really, really, really, really hope that they give me a fast refund. I’m destitute right now. I had to go into the bank today to withdraw the last $8.00 from my account. Calum was embarrassed of my povo-ness, and so he waiting outside. We only got paid last Wednesday, and don’t get paid again until next Wednesday boo hoo. I’m going to submit my holidays tomorrow, so that I can at least get leave loading and have a little bit extra money. We’re supposed to be going out this Friday night, for U-Rock celebration and Kirra’s birthday, and so I don’t know how that’s going to work. I definitely won’t be able to buy any new clothes for the occasion, nor for Legends night for that matter. Maybe it would be better if I didn’t go. To Legends, I mean, not Friday night. I wouldn’t miss that. Though the way this morning went, I just wanted to forget everything about it. Just crawl under a rock and not come out until next week. After Wednesday. And then go buy myself a sympathy present. Like an alice band. Those are awesome and I desperately want one, but I don’t have the money to buy one. They are $10.00 at Mombassa (highway robbery! but the nicest I have seen so far), $6.00 at Diva (but they don’t have the red dotty one that I like), and $5.00 at JayJays. I also want Smoosh’s album, but don’t have the moeny for that either.

These are some things that I will buy once I get my tax return (if I get back a decent amount):
* Rosie’s b’day cons
* $300 paid off my credit card
* $50 paid off Lauren
* $50 paid off Dinna’s vet bill
And that would be the majority of the money gone. Then i would maybe be able to get myself an alice band and the smoosh cd.

Here is a picture for Calum (continuing on from our imitations of pouncing cats, cats looking through windows at birds, and cats walking upstairs or jumping off a bed (prrrrrrp!))

Whew! So much stuff to say! Every time I went to write a blog, myspace was stuffed and I couldn’t! Frickin myspace. But I have now. So it’s all cool.

xxxooo

P.S. How good is bam? One more picture – for the bam.

Child psychologist on Sunrise this morning: (some woman had written in to say that her son was really lazy. This was his advice)…

“Boys have to be told something 24 times before they’ll do it. If you tell your son to do the washing up, and you find it hasn’t been done, take the dirty dishes and place them gently in his bed.”

Oh my god. He was deadly serious, too. Not a hint of a smile. That’s the best advice ever. Imagine getting into bed and things clanking around, and then you see something red… “Good God, I’m bleeding! No, wait… it’s just tomato sauce.” Laurens: “There’s a fork in my ass!”

That child psychologist was good value. hahaha i hate when people say that! agh!

New post secrets up today! www.postsecret.com if you like that kind of thing… I know I do! TELL ME ALL YOUR SECRETS! NOW!

The weather is beautiful. I am frozen and the rain is falling (maybe in the catchment areas!) and it’s nighttime. Everything feels peaceful and nice. I had a great night. I’ve had a great few nights. Apart from some inconsequential (well, inconsequential to me unless I let them be otherwise, but fairly consequential to someone else who won’t acknowledge that they are affecting other people’s lives with their apathy) and unimportant annoyances, which I am not going to let  bother me, apart from those, it’s been a great week. Did you know that I used to be even worse at telling stories than I am now? When we were young kids, Lauren told me that she didn’t want to listen to me talk when we were walking home from the bus stop together after school. And alcohol only seems to exacerbate things. I like to get things straight and I do it out loud rather than in my head, so my stories involve a lot of sorting out of details (and this really should be done before you start telling the story). And I talk a lot. I need an auto-summarise. We watched PC vs Mac videos tonight and Nathan said I disproved any points that I had made by making him watch those videos. But the Mac videos are just as biased as the PC ones, and really it’s just six of one, half a dozen of the other. Who really cares? I’m not on anyones side.

Tonight Melody and I were standing outside the Regatta waiting for dad to pick us up, and some angry guy comes out of the Regatta surrounded by security guards. He’s yelling something about some guy grabbing him in the crotch, and when the security guards think it’s ok to leave him, he starts running back into the club. Nothing could calm him down. He went on for about 10 minutes, and everyone was laughing at him. His girlfriend was so embarrassed and upset, but I was thinking “if a guy I was going out with EVER acted that way, he would be out the door with a bootmark on his ass.” After he’d had enough of going off at innocent bystanders, he went and started bashing up an electrical box on the side of the road. Some security guards ran over to him and he stalked off, challenging them at the same time as walking backwards. Big brave man! what a fucking joke. I hate this irrational aggression disguised as indignant machismo. Like jeez, get a fucking hobby.

Anyways. Tomorrow morning we’re going to yum cha for dad’s birthday. I love yum cha. Yum.

I’ve got to do my pre-performance review statement for work. I don’t know when my pre-performance review is, but I’m hoping against hope that it isn’t on tomorrow. I just don’t have the energy for obfuscation and bureaucracy tonight.

I’m not going to think about it anymore tonight.

Noelle and I went to see “Cars” this afternoon. We were meant to see Pirates II, but when Noelle got there early to buy tickets, both sessions had already sold out. So we’re hopefully going to go see it  Tuesday night (Tightass Tuesday! w007!). Cars was funny. That’s the second kids movie we’ve seen in as many weeks – last one we saw was Over the Hedge. There were some Asian guys sitting next to me who got really excited when the cars did that slide thing, and one of them kept exclaiming “ah! Tokyo Drift!”.

My arm is killing me tonight. The pain is coming through from midway down my forearm, right to my wrist, then up through my thumb. It had been feeling better for a while, but I’m hoping this is just a temporary relapse. It seems to be improving otherwise. Four weeks is a long time when I just want to be able to use my arm NOW. I hope mum gets the x-rays sent to her this week, because I’ve only seen one of the x-rays, side-on, and I’d be interested to see it front-on as well. Actually I just want x-ray vision so I can see it myself, and in colour too! hehe. I’m a nerd.

I’ve added a game to this blog entry, but i’m not actually playing champions of norrath (due to my inability to use a controller), i was just thinking how i’d like to be playing it, killing all those orcs or whatever they are, picking up armor and weapons and selling them to that guy… yeah. that’d be sweet.

By graphic images, I mean images of my arm/hand.. I’ll post them at the end of the blog in case you don’t want to see them. you can still read this

Today was my first day back at work. I’m exhausted. The strange thing about being back at work is being in different climates/temperatures. While on sick leave, I’ve practically lived in my pyjamas. They are nice and warm, because the days are cold and there is no heating in this house. But as it warms up, I can wear just a t-shirt. Being at work today, I found the temperature stiflingly and ridiculously hot.

They seem to turn the heat way up to overcompensate for the chill of outside, but it just made me feel feverish. Then also, on the train on the way home, they had the carriages overheated too. Combined with the body heat of all the people crowded on there, it was enough to make anyone feel claustrophobic. I’m not claustrophobic, but that’s how I felt… It was so nice to be out in the fresh air on the walk home from the station, even if it was chilly. I so much prefer winter to any other time of year, but I wish that public transport and businesses would stop cooking everyone.

I am now known at work as an “Emogan” (well, really only by Kirra and Calum, but meh.) This is a cross between an emo and a bogan. The bogan part comes in because of my tendency to over-syllabalise words that are monosyllabic. For example: “here”, I pronounce as “heeyah”, although not quite as extreme as that. I’m getting a complex. Also because I come from Yamba, and apparently that sounds like a bogan place. The emo part comes in… because… i like Nightmare Before Christmas, and I have black and coloured hair, and I have emo glasses… and i like buttons… and … some other stuff.

Calum and I were discussing pronunciation of different words. Specifically, “Maroon”. Here are my pronunciations and definitions for maroon:

1. Maroon (Mah-roon): To put ashore on a deserted island or coast and intentionally abandon.
2. Maroon (Mah-rohn): A dark reddish brown to dark purplish red.

words aren’t always pronounced the same way as other words. Like the rule for maroon is proven by comparing it to afternoon. But what about can? we say “can”, not “cahn”, but we say “cahn’t” not, “can’t”. If we were to say “can’t”, we’d be accused of americanising.
Anyway, here are the pictures:

The sound on my laptop just suddenly stopped working. I know it will work again if I restart it, but it’s strange that it just stopped all of a sudden. It makes me think that there’s someone controlling my computer remotely, and when I start playing music they don’t like, they just stop the sound. Why don’t they just change the song?

Maybe I don’t have any music they like.

That’s just an example of my paranoia of late. I’m paranoid.

Want to see something I wrote when I was asleep?

Chancholi.
Her skin was soft, chocolate-coloured velveteen, her eyes shiny green marbles.

Who the hell is Chancholi? Was that a metaphor or just a description? weird.

I should start cooking dinner soon. ho hum.

I was thinking this afternoon that I had something to write about. But it was just strange unconnected thoughts. Like how if Nathan kisses PP, he’ll turn into Veronica Mars. Peepee I mean, not Nathan.

I’m forgettable and forgetful. I am obscurity personified. At least while I’m at home I am. Next week it will be different. Next week I’ll be right in front of people so they won’t forget me. I’ll still be forgetful, but it won’t matter so much. I wish I could forget the stupid things in life that make me sad.

You know what? Maybe I do actually care about the things I make a point of pointing out. Maybe that’s the point.

Maybe I’m going to try not to care in future, because other people obviously don’t care as much as I do.

No, I’m not on edge, I’m in a well of disappointment. Where time for friends does not exist.

You hear? I have NO TIME FOR YOU.

That’s how I feel. What’s the point in even taking the time to say to someone “we’re friends”, in saying those words, when it means nothing? AGH. I’ve had too much time to sit and mull over this. I’m not giving you my time anymore, if you won’t take the time to CALL or EMAIL or say HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU?

Thanks.