Here comes the bridesmaid

Guess what? I am going to be a bridesmaid!

I am going to wear a pretty dress* and stay in a castle (yep, a CASTLE) and oh yeah help the bride out a little, maybe.

The wedding is in February and it belongs to my very first frisbee friend, and it's all very exciting.

Any tips for being the best bridesmaid ever?

*If you are going to the wedding and you don't want to spoil the surprise of how pretty I will look, I suggest you don't click that link.

What you missed when I was being a slacker about posting regularly

Frisbee awards night.


My new barbecue.


Practice Christmas Dinner.


Playing and ponies.


I bought a REAL CHRISTMAS TREE! (I didn't even know you could do that in Australia.)

"He just broke a few legs"

My new housemate, B Myles, moved across the country to live with me and HHannahh (Housemate Hannah > H Hannah > HHannahh. Yeah no?) and go to Flinders. This is pretty brave, really. We (or she) could have been psycho killers. Thankfully, we are not. What is even cooler, I think, is how B Myles can go out somewhere, like to the library, and come home with a new friend and an invite to an awesome party. I admire this. I can't do that.

***

Eri is here! Do you remember Eri? Honestly, I forgot how important Eri was. I suck. Eri was truly my first and best friend at Flinders. She is so grateful for everything that I did for her (not much) but she continues to not realise that I will be forever in her debt for everything she did and allowed me to do. She is here for two more days and we plan to make them the best two ever, before she has to go home and be a good Japanese girl and work in a cubicle and do exercises on the roof. (I may be assuming a little.)

***

These two days will no doubt be the best two of my recent history as they are the only two I have had off in a row since B Myles moved in and probably a couple of weeks before that. What is strange is that working 9-5 seven or eight days in a row is starting to feel normal. Before you ask, no I do not actually have any of that money I may appear to be earning. I just have a slightly smaller BlogHer08 debt.

***

The title refers to a line that made be laugh for five minutes straight, one of those brilliant laughs that makes your stomach hurt and your head get a little light for lack of oxygen and everything seem better somehow because if you laugh like that, the world must be a hopeful place. It occurred on our Eri Reunion Tour Girls' Night (movies, - we're introducing our internationals to Western culture via Sex And The City. Last time it was Bring It On - pizza, chocolate, popcorn, etc) and I love it and all the girls that came to what is actually the first event to be hosted in our new girlhouse ("Oh no, what if no-one comes?" "They told us twelve hours that they'd be here").

What Are You Making?

You know how something is totally hilarious at the time, but if you try to tell the story you are met with blank looks, and possibly it doesn't even seem that funny to yourself in retrospect? Yeah, that's what this title is like. It was the funniest thing ever when I said it to someone at work today. Now ... not so much.

The bushfires still suck. My scooter is still stolen. My internet is still spotty.

But I am totally optimistic (well, not so much about the bushfires and all the people who lost all their homes and possessions and scooters) because this week my boy housemates are moving out and my two girl housemates are moving in. Whoo! Oops, not that I hate my boy housemates. Just that it's exciting having new housemates, and one is a good friend and one I've never met, and that shit is exciting.

Also I bought a new diary and moved my room around and we bought a couch (it's pink! I know!) and am going shopping for a tv and fridge and washing machine tomorrow.

Oh and I just spent the past couple of hours thinking I was having a texting conversation but no, I was talking to myself as I had no credit and the messages weren't actually going anywhere. Genius.

Jumping Jumping

All has been rather doom and gloom around here lately, but instead of dwelling on my (now restored) dodgy internet, the crazy destructive bushfires that were, thank god, nowhere near me, the end of the two weeks of summer we were apparently allocated this year, or the theft and continued absence of the Scarlet Lady and my resultant reliance on public transport and hatred for the world, we are going to talk about a subject a little more upbeat. You with me? Awesome.

When we were little, my cousins had a trampoline. Between the two youngest, they broke three wrists in the space of a couple of years on (or, more accurately, off) the trampoline. I was jealous. I never got a cast (or crutches). The oldest cousin broke the trampoline mat one night when she and her friends all got on it in high heels, but it got fixed. And my cousins and I liked to turn the tramp on its side then run and knock it over, with us ending up on top of the mat. We also liked to put detergent on the mat and the sprinkler underneath and slide around on it.

My primary school had two trampolines. One massive yellow one and a normal black one. The After School Care kids (of which I was one) were the only ones who ever got to use them, and then I think it was only one year that we were allowed to get them out. The yellow one was the best, and I kicked arse on it. I could jump mega high, and do all kinds of spinning jumps. Then one day the trampolines went away and we had to go back to playing Poison Ball Against The Wall.

But I never had a trampoline of my own. So, as you can imagine, I was very very excited to go to Trampoline World, a magical world just full of trampolines. But, sadly, as you may remember, Trampoline World was frickin CLOSED on the one day we went there. I was devastated.



LUCKILY, Dad is an excellent accommodation booker, and managed to get us into a place with a jumpy pillow. A freaking trampoline equivalent right there in our backyard for two whole days. How awesome is that?! (It was at this time that I discovered that brother, who never had the cousinly trampoline exposure I did, had no idea how to play Crack The Egg. Who doesn't know how to play Crack The Egg? The kid had such a deprived childhood.)



So now you know, if you are ever in need of a Christmas present for me, just buy me a massive trampoline and I will love you forever. The end.

The End?

So it would appear I have become really crap at this whole bloggy thing. I have to confess it even crossed my mind that there would be a nice symmetry in starting and finishing something (say, a blog) at the start and finish of my time at Flinders. But no, there will always be topics which make me say "I wonder what the internet would think" and "OMG I MUST COMPLAIN ABOUT THIS TO THE INTERNET."

Today is not one of those times, unless you count the fact that I just had to tell you that I might not be posting so much anymore, but I thought an update would be nice, just to prove that I remember how to type things and hit publish with little regard for content. (Check, check, and hell check.)

I have been working at my sports store job four days a week. Which is nice. We're getting busier as everyone realises that their kids are demanding scooters and those wheely shoe things and whatnot, but we're all pretty much all friends now, and three of us went shopping and movieing yesterday even. (I saw Four Christmases twice in two days, what with having uni friends and work friends, not because it was that awesome. It was funny in parts.) I also got a job at a bookshop, the orientation for which is next week. That is also nice.

Graduation is also next week, and I still haven't found my imaginary shoes, but I think I've found some acceptable ones. Our work Christmas party is on this weekend, and I found a pretty purple dress for that so we're all set for the dress-uppy events.

Turns out I am invited to family Christmas, which means that I have to go Christmas shopping (dammit) for random relatives. What do you get for the boyfriend of a cousin you see once a year? Christmas shopping for the boys did not even necessitate a trip to Marion. I am that good (and lazy).

I'm still going to the gym on the days that I don't work. My treadmill routine isn't particularly hard anymore, and I've added some random balls and weights but I'm too scared to use any of the machines or go to classes because I will for sure look like an idiot.

Planning for our Great Ocean Road Trip is pretty much done, without contributions being made from all members of the travelling party, which is great. It will be awesome.

Summer had not kicked in for real yet, and I am not thrilled about this. Although it does seem to be putting in a little effort to overcome the clouds and rain, I would appreciate the sun's appearance more often and continuously.

I still read your blog, I promise, but I think I've left three comments in the last month. I am terrible, Muriel.

Yay For November Birthdays

I love people who have birthdays in November. It's like, "Hmm, what should I write about today? Oh, yeah, it's LMC's birthday! Whoo!" And you totally have a topic, just like that.

(I still really like last year's LMC bday post and this one about us getting presents, so if you need something to read, I suggest you check those out.)

The first LMC birthday party I can remember was the one she had at Hungry Jacks one year. We would have been in primary school, maybe seven or eight years old? I remember she got the same card from like three different people. I remember she had an ice-cream cake. And I remember laying under the slide with one of her friends from school cos I didn't know the rest.

The next one I remember was the first time I went to Hog's Breath. We were maybe 12? I remember being totally underdressed compared to what her friends were wearing, but I think that was because I stayed over her house unplanned the night before or something. I remember getting ready with LMC and her friends (who by now were kinda my friends as well). This was the day I learned the trick of brushing your hair off a bed to put it in a ponytail.

I think the last time we were together on her birthday was her 18th. Me and a couple of my mates took her into town (which is kind of a joke, since we'd all been out before we were 18, but this was kind of tradition) and bought her her first legal drink. We got cocktails at Ducks about three seconds before they closed that part of the bar, and I'm so sorry LMC, because they were shithouse. A Fruit Tingle is not supposed to taste like that. But I think we made up for that with all those drinks at Shags that time.

(I'm kind of thinking maybe I should've saved those last two for the next two years' worth of November 15th NaBloPoMo posts. But I just did a search and I haven't told you the story of LMC's and my finest moment, so I got you covered.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CUZ.

Weekend Finale

This weekend was amazing.

I finished my last essay on Thursday, went to the Tons that night, slept over at the Hall, went to the Musical, slept in (missing the Pageant, but you can't have everything), went to dinner at Hog's Breath, ate the yummiest chocolate fondue, made fun of all the drunk people at the Grand, skipped both cleaning my room and the gym (and if that combination doesn't make for an awesome weekend, I'm not sure what does), and today, got to see Carla and eat the Qantas club out of house and pretzels.

I really remembered why it's easy to love living at the Hall - karaoke and signing (t-shirts and people) at the Tons, lazing around the Hall after a night out, and after the Musical about five people got their heads shaved in front of a huge crowd in the Common Room. Seriously good times.

I also remembered why I love Darwin and Carla. Thanks for visiting, babe!

Celebratory Weekend!

As I may have mentioned (once on my blog and, like, fifty bajillion times last night to anyone who was remotely in my vicinity), I handed in my last essay.

Last night was also the last Hall pub night of the year, as they start the dreaded SwotVac tonight. Noise curfew sucks! So I saw the night as my own personal Finished Uni Celebration, and it was awesome.

Tonight is the Hall musical, tomorrow is the Christmas Pageant, tomorrow night is dinner at Hog's Breath with the work crew, and Sunday Carla is coming to visit me. Cel-e-brate good times, come on! I am a wee bit excited about all these goings-on. Oh! And then Sunday night I will have time to watch the Heroes that I missed last night because I was out doing this:

Guest Post: Thank You

Carla asked my opinion of guest posts in NaBloPoMo. To which I say: cheaters! But hey, she was coerced volunteered, and this is totally her area of expertise. I hope you enjoy this view of the US election from an Aussie.

When Missy asked me to do a guest post so she can slack off during NaBloPoMo about the US Presidential elections, I was excited. Air my views to an audience who hasn’t met me and doesn’t automatically turn off when I start talking about politics? [Hey! I resemble that remark!] What psephologist and political nutter would pass up that opportunity? (Psephologist is your word of the day. Look it up and remember you too can say big words if you listen to your local ABC radio station – that’s NPR for the folks in the US.)

However, I soon ran into some problems. I’ve started about five posts, and discarded them all. There is so much I want to talk about regarding this election, an important election not just for America, but for the world. Americans might not realise this, but you haven’t just voted in someone who will govern your country for the next four years, but someone who makes decisions that has far-reaching consequences, beyond the US shores.

Do I talk about the voting process? How it is a second-world voting system for a first world country? (Electric voting booths? Guys, seriously? Is that not an open invitation for fraud and abuse?) The fact that journalists were even discussing the possibility of the Presidency being decided in the courts á là Bush-Gore 2000 demonstrates that the biggest “democracy” in the world is far from perfect.

Do I talk about the Republican Vice-Presidential candidate? A candidate so inexperienced, so radically right-winged that her personal religious beliefs would be imposed on a country whose Constitution declares it secular and not ruled by any one religion? Who has no idea what the job of the Vice-Presidency entails, who was so eager to abuse her position of power in a small state, let alone in the White House?

Or do I talk about the media, the “Washington elite” (to quote a certain intellectual Alaskan Governor) who were so terrified about being accused of sexism they allowed Palin to go unchecked for so long. Whatever she or any other aspiring politician may believe, the people of the country you want to serve in office has every single right to know everything about your credentials, your working history and your views, that is their right when making a decision that will affect every aspect of their lives. Even if she were the most left-wing woman in existence, had she treated the American people with as much contempt as she did in this election I would have actively campaigned against her.

Instead, I want to focus on the positives. A very calm, intellectual man, who just happens to be black, has been voted in as the 44^th President of the United States of America. A smart man, a civil rights lawyer, coming from a very different background, has been elected. One who stands by his beliefs, but is willing to compromise for the good of the nation. Only 60 years ago, racial segregation was still present in the US, and now an African-American is President. A true icon for positive change, away from the bad policies of the current administration, a President that has gone down in history for having the worst approval ratings ever recorded.

Barack Obama, as the 44^th President of the United States of America, I salute you and wish you the best for the next four years. Congratulations.

To the American people, thank you. Thank you for making a wise decision, for choosing sanity and intellect over mavericks and intellectual ignorance. For making a smart decision on behalf of the world.

WOOHOO!!!

TOGA08

Hi guys! It's 10:25 and according to my schedule, my next uni work time block starts at 10:30, and I haven't showered or had breakfast at this point, so you don't get any exciting stories, and also because there aren't any. Instead, you get Toga pics!

Mail Time Part Two

Part One is here.

When I was away, I bought a bunch of souvenir-type stuff, and when I got back divided it up to send/give to various people. Whoever I was planning to give the Disney chocolate to, I'm sorry, it's still sitting on my bookshelf. I don't know why I haven't eaten it yet.

I sent Carla - um, what did I send you? - something San Francisco-ish, I'm sure, plus a bunch of BlogHer swag items I'd collected. In the accompanying note I said something about needing to explain some of the things I'd sent her, because they were just random things, not souvenirs or anything. And then she got it and was all, "YES, I think you DO need to explain why you sent me THIS," and I was all, "Really?" and she was all, "YES, and also, don't you even know what you sent me?"

And then I was like, "Clearly not, but I am totally intrigued."



And THEN I was like, "Actually, I can't really explain that. But I sure am glad the other USB got sent to my little brother."

I realise not everyone loves getting mail as much as I do, but if you think that postcards and surprise packages are pretty cool, you can still let me know and you never know what might turn up.

The Fourth

I have this work friend, we'll call her CC, who is the most enthusiastic person I know. Everyone should have a co-worker like her. I don't mean she's happy all the time, although she is a very cheerful person, but she'll dive into whatever with total enthusiasm. If it's something you're thrilled about, she's thrilled too. If you want to have a bitch about someone, she will hate on them with you. This rocks.

It is my birthday in ONE MONTH. My birthday is my favouritest day of the year. Most of the time, I believe I am the most important person in the whole world. But on this one day, not only do I have permission to indulge this belief, but everyone else can believe it too! It's a great feeling.

Due to a bizarre time-space continuum thing whereby I leave San Francisco on the 2nd of August, fly twenty hours, and arrive home two days later, I get back from the BlogHer and Beyond Trip of 2008 on my birthday.

This might seem sucky, but I get back in the morning, so most of my birthday will be here. A whole bunch of people will be checking my ID on that day, giving even more people the opportunity to realise that I am a princess on that day. And I will be crazy tired and jet-lagged, which means I will be fricking hilarious.

Plus, thanks to the enthusiasm of CC when she was presented with a half-arsed maybe ideee, I am having a party that night. ON MY BIRTHDAY.

Cray-zee.

Anyway, I need to get this all organised before I leave (in TEN DAYS!) so I need your help. Girly pajama party it is. I need girly movies to watch and yummy cocktails to make and drink. Go!

(And if you're really helpful, I will totally send an invite your way.)



And also, have a great long weekend everyone in the USA. These fireworks are from the 4th of July, 2005. You can really tell, can't you?

The Dark Side of the Gym

I am a fairly anti-gym person.

I have a few questions that I feel should be answered with something along of the lines of "... Well, I don't know. That's a good point." These questions include the following:

"Why would go for a run on a treadmill when you could just go for a run?"
"Why would you do push-ups in a gym when you could just do push-ups?"
"Why would you cycle in a gym when you could just go for a ride?"*

As it turns out, there is a valid answer:

"Because it's fricking freezing outside, and also is pitch black by 5:30 in the afternoon."

*The other question is "Why don't you just play a real sport?" but the answer is "A wacky schedule and limited funds does not a team sport make."**

**I was seriously looking for the button to make a numbered footnote just then.

At home (Darwin), skywalker and I would often be at the basketball courts at the local school til 7pm. Us and the rest of the neighbourhood 'kids' would be out in our cul-de-sac every afternoon until whenever we got called in for dinner. Cold and/or dark were not even issues.

Back to Adelaide. Cold and dark. I have been cycling for half an hour each day for the past two weeks. I need thirty stickers on my reward chart if I want to go to BlogHer. Somehow, this gave Shelle the impression that I was one of those Exercise People, one of those Heading Off To The Gym For A Workout People. (She is one of those people.)

Her gym (the brand new, fancy one near my house) was having a launch class Wednesday night. Since it was a spin class, and I am, as of last week, a cyclist, she thought I might enjoy it. Ha! I don't like the idea of exercising on purpose. With basketball, it just happens. With my cycling, at least I get to listen to music. The gym seems more like torture.

So we got there, Shelle being very encouraging. I filled out a bajillion forms that all asked for the same information. Having learned my lesson from HaMad getting insistent phone calls from them, I gave the nice gym people my old phone number. NOT A GYM PERSON. GO AWAY.

We went into the spin class: totally packed. Well damn. Now we have to just go home without any forced exercising. Except not, because Shelle came here to do all that exercisey shit, and I hadn't done my 30 minutes a day.

Ok, I'll just say it: I had fun. We went on the cycles first, cos that's what I know. We did some 'stretching' aka gossip catch-up. We did ten minutes on the cross trainers, and I swear to god, the first two minutes nearly killed me. Then I started using the arm things, got into a good rhythm, and actually enjoyed myself. We even carried on a conversation most of the time, which does make it go quicker. Then we went to the rowing machines, which looked kinda scary but this was where we struck freaking gold: There was a FISH GAME! I loved it! The serious work-out guy next to us thought I was insane, but I'm ok with that. Last we went on the sitting down cycles, which felt like a cop-out. But I'm pretty sure I can blame them for any problems I may have had with the "She hit the floor / Next thing you know / Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low" parts of the songs at the Tonsley. (I got back up again, which is all that matters.)

In conclusion, I am off to do my cycling for today. I understand why people would go to the gym, but not why they would pay that much money to do it. Anyone else wants to offer me a free guest pass, I'll take it and enjoy it. Then I will eat some chocolate.

Be Careful

You should always listen to your friends. They are always right.

Even when "You could get hurt" sounds a lot like "You might get in too deep considering there's a limited time-frame here."

You should know that they're psychic and are actually saying "He could decide that you might get hurt and therefore yell at you for being a typical woman even though you had no intention of getting hurt and JUST WANTED TO HAVE SOME FUN DAMMIT."

They may also be saying "He could decide that you have made him violate some kind of guy code and therefore... No actually, he won't reach a conclusion, you will have to end it and then pretend that we're all best mates from now on."

Screw you, all my friends, for being right. But thank you so so much for listening to my rant at 2/3/4am. You are the best.

Missy had her first dinner party ...

... and all you got was these lousy photos.




Rest assured there was pizza and garlic bread and ice-cream. It was yummy.

Can't Say I Wasn't Warned

But dude, it was only thirty-five dollars. For a whole desk with a computer slidey thing!

Hi, my name is Missy and I'm a furniture-holic.

We went back to Ikea today*. No, my wardrobe hasn't come in yet. No, I wasn't planning on buying anything else. Yes, I came home with a brand-new desk. Luckily, Shelle also came home with a bed, which was the whole point of the exercise.

Not only that, but we managed to get everything out of the box and into her car in under an hour. And we just assembled the whole thing (with no pieces left over this time!).

*We also went to LeCornu today, as well as Harvey Norman, Forty Winks, and some other random place the other day. So it's the furniture, not the Ikea. I kinda hate Ikea actually. It's so ... commercial. And identical. Also cheap. Wait, that's why I kinda love it. Hmm.

These keys are cursed

You would think it would be physically completely and utterly IMPOSSIBLE to lose these right? RIGHT?! That's a fricking multi-coloured Rubic's Cube right there!



Enter the Laura formerly known as My Cousin.

Oh fine. Also the fact that my new black clutch is lucky to fit in lipgloss along with my wallet and phone. Keys have no hope in hell.

LMC vs Shags

Before and after.


Cousins. BFFs.


When vending machines turn nasty.


"[Secret secret secret]." "He did WHAT?!"

Cautionary Tale: don't tango in Las Vegas with a monkey

Times like this I am so happy to have a new camera phone.



It is no coincidence that we are at the door to the boys toilet. (What? You know there's always a line at the girls.)

Also, we were thisclose to going for a motorbike ride with a couple of randoms.