Calling All Michigan Bloggers! (now with guest list)

Hey bitches! If you live in Michigan, pay attention.

It appears many of the important people in the blogworld live in Michigan, which is why SuperTiff, The Hotfessional, and I are throwing you a party.



I'm sending out emails to those Michigan Bloggers for whom I have contact info, but DUDE! If you live in Michigan and I haven't discovered your awesomeness, let me know. You are totally invited. Grab a button, and I'll see you soon!

(PS. I'm a loser who didn't include the date in the email. FRIDAY AUGUST 1ST.)

Attending so far:
Me, SuperTiff, The Hotfessional
Aimeepalooza (Yeah, you haven't replied yet Aimee, but you have no choice in this!)
Mommy's Martini
Krisscop's House
Just Juli

I don't want to deal with this right now

Is is possible that I failed to complete every single topic I took last semester? I know I slacked off a little, but COME ON.

And is this why the stupid uni computer system, which I thought I had all sussed out, refuses to let me enrol in topics for next semester?

Email the Honours co-ordinator, or ignore it til I get back from San Francisco?

Easter Raffle

My primary school (elementary school) has an Easter Raffle every year. People bring in Easter eggs, and students are sent home with ticket books. For the week or so before Easter, the office overflows with Easter eggs. Usually there are around 60 prizes, although I imagine the number has kept increasing.

I have never won the Easter Raffle. Ok, I might have won Prize Number 54. Once. In the eight years I was there! In grade seven, I decided this was my year. I deserved it. Why I deserved it more than the fifty or so other year sevens, most of whom had also been there since Transition (Reception for you South Australians, I don't know what for everyone else. Kindergarten?), I have no idea. But I did. This was going to be it. They would call my name, I would act all cool - like, I'm too cool for Easter Raffles, they're for grade sixers, - get my prize, and draw someone else's name. Then I'd go and sit on the stage with my prize and gloat. I would no doubt be sitting near Jess O, whose family always always won at least three prizes.

Needless to say, it did not work that way. I sat there for hours. They called name after name, and none were mine. So much for my year.

And so it was with the bajillion or so Pay It Forward contests I entered. Seriously Random Number Generator, what's the go? Do you seriously not like me? Maybe you were distracted that day. Would you like to call for a redraw?

Oh yeah, and the next year, when Skywalker started primary school and I left and started high school? The little shit won. If he starts entering Pay It Forwards and wins, I am so not sending him a postcard from San Francisco.

I have the Barenaked Ladies stuck in my head

ONE WEEK!!!

No surprises as to the topic of today's post. It still seems a bit bizarre that it is July, like, where did the rest of the year go? The trip is constantly in the back of my mind, and is the last thing I think about every night. Most of the time it seems merely inevitable, but then things happen that make me realise what an awesome, great, fun, huge thing is about to happen.

Some of these things include:

~ Getting money in US dollars from the bank. Guys, what happens if you wash your money? It surely wouldn't survive.

~ Planning specific meeting points and looking up maps of SFO. How big can it be that you need six coffee kiosks?

~ Any conversation with Tiffany or FCM. They always remind me of how much fun we are going to have together, and I have realised that dude, we so are, because it would appear that we have things to talk about aside from the obvious BlogHer logistics.

I will see you guys, for real, right next to each other, physically hugging and screaming and going crazy, in seven short days.

That's all very well, BUT...

My boss: We're cutting shifts across the board. But! Everyone will be getting extra shifts during stocktake.

I won't be here for stocktake, as you well know. Plus, I'm going on this little trip, you may have heard about it. Kinda need the money.

The mobile tech guy: I'm just going to put you on hold. I'm not transferring you, I'm just going to put you on hold.

But you're still putting me on hold. Again. Like I just was, for twenty freaking minutes.

The flights chick: We'll send you your e-ticket when it's ready. It's fine to get it even the day before the flight.

I appreciate it's fine for you, but maybe you could think about my state of mind if I have to wait until THE DAY BEFORE to recieve a plane ticket for a trip I've been planning and thinking and obsessing over for months.

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?

My Two Cents

When I first got to the Hall, I didn't know then what I know now.

Everyone is a college student, almost everyone is from the country, or interstate, or overseas.

But! That doesn't really mean you will be friends with everyone. In my experience, the third years hang with the third years, the Asian exchange students hang with the Asian exchange students, and the slutty freshers hang with the slutty freshers.

This doesn't mean the Hall is "like high school," it just means that people usually like to spend time with people they have things in common with.

The Hall is a great place to meet and spend time with people from all over the world, with all different interests and skills. But ultimately, the people you will become best friends with are the ones you share something with (whether it's your soccer skills, you guitar skills, or your drinking skills).

I feel like BlogHer will be similar.

There will be third years there as well, and it's not that they (and I say this from both points of view) don't like first years, but that they already have their BlogHer BFFs. It's not that they're not looking to meet people, they just need to do it less.

In my experience, if you go up to someone with a smile and an introduction, they will smile back and introduce themselves as well. (I am hoping the Aussie thing gives me an instant advantage, but if not, I'll cope.) I do not think that "famous" bloggers are going to decide they have to hang with me on the strength of a business card and a smile, but they will smile and say hi and say thank you when I tell them how much I love their writing. They might even come dance, because dancing is not confined to popularity levels.

I will be as excited to meet some famous bloggers as I will be to meet non-famous but no less awesome "normal" bloggers. Lots of excitement, seriously.

This may seem a weird time to write this post, given that I'm not even there yet. But I did read a disturbing amount of high-school-comparison blog posts last year, and there's that whole Fussy/Fussypants thing going on at the moment. (As far as I can work out, this is what's going on: Sweetney said something about the similarity between Fussy and Fussypants. A bajillion people commented and took sides and foresaw that it might divide BlogHer right down the middle.)

I seem to have a very strong opinion on this for someone who doesn't really know what's going, but here's my take:
- The original comment was on TWITTER. How inauthentic a source can you get? I'm sorry, I find it hard to take something said on Twitter very seriously.
- I'm even more sure that I don't want Twitter.
- People who are going to write about it, do not assume we know what you're talking about. Spell it out for me. Gossip is no good unless it's detailed.
- Speaking of which, this does feel like high school gossip. Did you hear what Sarah said about Jess to Chris? OMG, like, WTF.
- All those people commenting on it (and writing blog posts about it, ahem) have nothing to do with it. Yes, everybody is entitled to their opinion, that is why God invented blogs after all, but the players involved are big girls, they can "fight" their own "battles."

Most of all, guys, I am coming to BlogHer this year. That means it has to be the BlogHer of a lifetime. No fighting! I will be there, and nothing must mar the awesomeness of the occasion. Thank you.

How Did This Happen?

So I decided to do this little trip around the world.

At first, I referred to it as happening 'in the middle of next year.'

Then it was 'in the middle of this year.'

Then it was 'in a few months.'

Then 'a few' became 'a couple.'

Then somehow I was going away 'next month.'

At midnight last night (actually, it was while I waited for my clock to tick over to 12:01 so I could see what the next month's picture was on my calendar. No I couldn't do it any earlier) I realised that all of these references to my upcoming trip no longer applied.

It is July. I am going to San Francisco this month. And it's a Tuesday, which means in exactly two weeks I will be heading off around the world, armed merely with 250 business cards and an internet full of blog posts. It suddenly seems like this might actually be about to happen.

Two weeks to San Francisco, BlogHer, and hopefully the USA trip of a lifetime.

Hair Thursday For The Win

I love Hair Thursdays. I even had a mini-HT of my own. My hair is a major part of my life, and has even rated a mention a time or two.
+
Moosh In Indy is awesome and generous.
=
I really, really want to win a Hair Thursday of my very own.

Which is why I am going to show you this, and apologise profusely. No-one should have to see this shit.



My computer only goes back to 2005, so that's where both these photos are from. Ok, they're not hideous,* but they illustrate my issues rather nicely. Dead straight fringe and kinky little curls? That does not work. Dry, frizzy, poofy wavy shit? Not cool. Also perpetually pulled back hard off my forehead.

*In fact, I think the main problem is my smile. I just don't look confident then. What a difference three years makes. See photo below for what I mean.

To give your eyes a little relief, here is me having a good hair day:



Wow, we like that aqua colour, don't we?

And, as per the rules, here is the current state of my hair:



Long, dark, was coloured (at home) a lighter brown/red ages ago so kind of has some highlights in it when I go in the sun, thick, naturally wavy, gets straightened (takes 40mins) once a week, some layers around the front, a side fringe that's slightly grown out, but mostly one length (read: boring, but I have no idea what would be better).

That's gotta be great to work with. So many options! Style, colour, you can go to town!

PLUS, I believe the winner is announced during BlogHer,* so if it's me, I will get it done while we're in San Francisco, whatever Whoorl advises, and video it, whatever. It could be awesome.

*I have been saying for weeks, months even, that I need a trim. I've put it off and put it off, and now I'm way too scared to get it cut this close to BlogHer. I don't trust anyone that much.

What I Want To Do Weekends, Part 7: The Ranch

Welcome to the last ever What I Want To Do Weekends weekend. (This does not ensure I will not change my mind between now and next weekend.) In case you missed the first few rounds of torture incredibly helpful comments, here's what happened:

Part 1: USA
Part 2: San Francisco
Part 3: Bloggers
Part 4: Los Angeles
Part 5: Las Vegas
Part 6: BlogHer Sessions - Day One and Day Two.

Since it kind of degenerated into more feedback from you than me telling you what I want to do, we're just going to embrace that and carry on letting you do all the work.

So, Part 7, The Finale: Questions For You.

Q1 Describe this blog to someone who has never read it, in one or two or maybe three sentences.

Q2 (a) Aussies: What should I take to America that best represents Australia?
Q2 (b) Non-Aussies: What should I bring you that will make you think of Australia?

Q3 Any other random ideas of things I have to do/see/buy/photograph while I am in any of the above-mentioned cities?

If you answer me these, I promise I will try so hard to not get suckered into any of these weekly things, or things that demand you answer so many questions so frequently. I love you for doing it though, you've been truly awesome.

And one last thing:
COUNTDOWN TO BLOGHER: 16 DAYS. HELL YEAH!

Saving and Spending

As I was cycling today, I was composing a post in my head. It went something like this:

"I've always been fairly good about not spending money. Every now and I'll splash out, and buy a laptop or a trip to England, but usually, I'm pretty good.

Lately, I've been trying to save up for a certain trip, but it's very inconsistent, resulting in days like the one with me deciding I didn't need the second hand on my watch to actually tell time (cost: $10) and then going and blowing half a paycheck on three pairs of shoes.

Or today, when I bought two 50c stamps instead of ten, and then spent $45 in the uni bookshop."

I didn't really finish it, but I feel it was building up to a pithy conclusion that would generate a ton of hilarious comments.

But then I actually went to buy some books, took my three Conan Doyles to the counter, and the chick showed me this one...



...that I could get instead for the low low price of FIFTEEN DOLLARS.

I hate when real life interferes with a blog post.

Why I Should Never Get Twitter

missy: started writing my essay. 81 words!
missy: 329
missy: 618. oh my god.
missy: 1001. i think i'm out of words.
missy: 1633! it's getting there. slowly and painfully.
missy: 2050!
missy: 2486
missy: 2718
missy: 2885 and done. thank the lord.

Just be happy you weren't the one getting these update texts all yesterday. And you can be happy the essay's done. I am officially finished everything uni-related for this semester (or will be when I hand this in tomorrow). Now I can concentrate on watching House (for my thesis!) and finding an America/Australia power adapter.

Oops, I Lied

Typical. I brag about how well I've been doing in the cycling department, and the next day I simultaneously gain a cold and lose the inclination to go out to a freezing cold shed and cycle for any period of time at all. So I've missed two days in a row. I'll make them up.

Speaking of people who lied...

(That was the best segue in the history of lame-arse segues, wasn't it?)

... remember that essay I asked my supervisor to review for me? And she hadn't, at that point?

Well, she got it a week before it's due date. Since then, I've handed it in, procrastinated the hell out of a different essay, written a bunch of blog posts and read a whole heap more, started writing the new essay, and got the original one back. I still haven't heard from my supervisor. This does not worry me particularly; I wasn't really holding my breath waiting for it back. But still:

Dear Supervisor: Not Cool.

But don't worry, I have indeed learned my lesson about getting things done before the night before. So not worth the hassle.

So I got a 75 on the essay. Basically, the lowest grade they could give me and still give me a Distinction. Which is fine. But what if I got a Credit? Supe is lucky I can be just slightly above average without her.

Deadlines

(Ok, I'm going to mention BlogHer once, right now, and then we'll have a totally SF-free post. Deal? Deal.)

I think the reason I was a bit sooky at the end of last week was due to BlogHer. Specifically, all the time and effort I've laid out. And what do I have to show for it? Nothing. A bunch of confirmation emails. I'm just glad the exciting 'Yay BlogHer!' posts elsewhere have kept things more in perspective.

I have been keeping up with the cycling thing. My reward chart now looks like this



which means I'm halfway there. I've discovered that music is essential, that I need a countdown to focus on, and that I get way more excitement out of putting up a new sticker than I should.

I've started reading books again! I used to go through at least two books a week when I was at home, but since uni and tv in my room and cable and dvds on demand from Carla, I just haven't. Plus, my ginormous book collection is home, so don't judge what I'm reading. Down here, I basically have a collection of Books I've Read On The Plane To/From Home. Anyway, books I've read in the last week and a half:



Remember when I was so excited about last days? Well I actually had another one, two weeks ago almost. It wasn't very exciting, because I still had an essay to write, plus this stupid thesis that I'm fairly certain will never be written. (Not totally true.) But yay! I finished first semester of Honours!

I have one more essay to do. And I have procrastinated the hell out of it. Seriously. That pile of books up there? Essay procrastination. My clean bedroom? Essay procrastination. I read and highlighted the readings for Christ's sake. Major procrastination. But it's due Friday, so I'm thinking 1000 words today, tomorrow and Wednesday, and then it'll be done. (See what I mean about needing a number to focus on?)

Oh yeah. One more thing. The topic of the essay. Remember when I was all "Now I never have to hear the word 'postmodern' ever again"? Well. The subject of the essay? Postmodernism. The subject of the whole freaking topic? Postmodernism. The world is just mean sometimes.

What I Want To Do Weekends, Part 6: BlogHer Sessions (Day Two)

Back again. Let me know what seminars to attend on Day One and Day Two of the BlogHer Conference. Your Day Two choices are:

Break-Out Session #1
1. Who We Are: Women Without Children and the Blogosphere
2. What We Do: Pursuing Your Passion Never Gets Old
3. What We Believe: Beautiful Blogging and Positive Posting
4. How We Communicate: Building Traffic via Content and Community
5. MommyBlogging: The Commercial Momosphere: Policies, Ethics and Outreach
6. Blogging Birds of a Feather Meet-Ups: Home/Garden and Crafts/DIY
7. Room of Your Own: Talking About War & Peace/Open Slot

Break-Out Session #2
1. Who We Are: "Coming Out" via Blog
2. What We Do: There's More to Monetization than Advertising
3. What We Believe: Tools for Online Fundraising and Activism
4. How We Communicate: Photography
5. MommyBlogging: Blogging About Our Children with Special Needs
6. Blogging Birds of a Feather Meet-Ups: BlogHims and Health/Fitness
7. Room of Your Own: BFD Blog and Feminism & Gender Meet-ups

Break-Out Session #3
1. Who We Are: Can You Take Back Naked Blogging?
2. What We Do: Blog to Book Redux
3. What We Believe: Blogging Community as Healing Force
4. How We Communicate: Open Source Participation: How to advance to the next level
5. MommyBlogging: When the Road To Motherhood Is Anything But Smooth: Infertility, Adoption and Miscarriage Bloggers
6. Blogging Birds of a Feather Meet-Ups: Queer BlogHer and Boomers & Beyond
7. The First BlogHer PhotoWalk and Room of Your Own: Chicago Bloggers

While we've established that none of you guys know what the hell you're doing - except going to cocktail parties - any ideas of which ones I should pick for Day Two?

Cos this such a fascinating topic, I'll be back AGAIN (in a 'Ross married Rachel in Vegas and got divorced - AGAIN' tone of voice) (OH MY GOD SHUT UP ABOUT VEGAS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD) (umm, where was I?) tomorrow to let you know the seminars I'm thinking of attending. Can't wait!

What I Want To Do Weekends, Part 6: BlogHer Sessions (Day One)

For those who were sick of me talking about Vegas, you're in luck. Hopefully the next Vegas post will be when I'm, you know, actually in Vegas.

For those who are sick of me talking about BlogHer (and I am definitely in that group), too bad. Once you start these weekly things, you're stuck. And for even more torture, we have a two-part special this weekend! But again, you get to tell me what to do, and everyone loves a bit of bossing around, right?

What I Want To Do At The Conference:

Break-Out Session #1
1. Who We Are: Introversion, Blogging and BlogHer
2. What We Do: Taking Care of Business
3. What We Believe: Top-notch Political Opinion Commentary
4. How We Communicate: FAQs for Beginning Bloggers
5. MommyBlogging: Is MommyBlogging Still a Radical Act?
6. Blogging Birds of a Feather Meet-Ups: Green/Social Change and Food/Entertaining
7. Room of Your Own: Entertainment Bloggers and Twenty-Something Bloggers

Break-Out Session #2
1. Who We Are: Race and Gender: What are the lessons of 2008
2. What We Do: DIY Content Syndication and Promotion
3. What We Believe: How To Take Names and Be Taken Seriously as a Political Blogger
4. How We Communicate: Why Bloggers (Even Non-Programmers) Benefit from Participating in Open Source Projects
5. MommyBlogging: Public Parenting & Privacy
6. Blogging Birds of a Feather Meet-Ups: Style/Fashion and Travel
7. Room of Your Own: The "Mother Load" and MidlifeBloggers.com

Break-Out Session #3
1. Who We Are: Blogging with a Global Perspective
2. What We Do: Writing Workshop
3. What We Believe: Two Concurrent Sessions: Progressives (with NetRoots Nation) & Conservatives
4. How We Communicate: Video Blogging
5. MommyBlogging: Mirrors: Ours, the Media's, Our Cultures' and Our Kids'
6. Blogging Birds of a Feather Meet-Ups: Personal Finance/Career and Sex & Relationships
7. Room of Your Own: Funding and incubation opportunities

There you have it. Which one should I go to for each session? Which ones would you go to? And which one do you think I will wake up in time for?

Times it sucks that the internet is the person you tell things to

I have ordered my business cards for BlogHer. They are pretty, at least I think so. I would love to show them to you, but since you are getting one, that would completely ruin the surprise aspect of it.

I have also ordered a bunch of awesome Australia presents for you, but again. PRESENTS. SURPRISE. CAN'T SHARE.

It sucks.

Also, I just wrote a post basically recapping the Vegas comments, but hello? You don't want to read them. YOU JUST WROTE THEM. And I thank you for that. Best suggestions: hire a scooter, get a hooker, get married.

I'm currently working on the Vegas hotel issue, because Holly basically just said "Dude, you're insane. Here, I've done all the work for you, now PICK ONE."

Another instance of the internet-tell-suck phenomenon? When you just used a totally good line in an email, and now can't repeat it here because THEY'LL KNOW. You didn't just make this blog post up. You wrote a couple of emails and copy/pasted them all together and called it a post.

Anyway - and this is a direct quote - "i've got it down to TI and the stratosphere, through a complicated and technical process known as 'hey, that looks cool!' i dont know. flip a coin?" So which should I pick? Rock scissors paper? Vegas experts, I need you again!

Going A Little Crazy

I have had no internet for approximately WAY TOO LONG.

Yes, I admit it: I may have something of a problem here. Whatever.

I seriously considered signing up for Twitter last night, when my internet was being super-slow, just so I could give you all updates such as these:

'Slower than dial-up is TOO FREAKING SLOW.'

'I'm trying to read my Bloglines by clicking on posts by writers who are unlikely to have added pictures.'

'If this doesn't email send, I will bitch-slap my internet into next freaking week.'

'Considering the pic-lite policy above, maybe clicking on FRICKING POST SECRET was not a good plan.'

'Laughing (and refraining from punching the screen) when the message "If this screen appears for more than five seconds, you may have to send the information again" appears. Try FIVE HOURS. OR DAYS.'

'Bloglines STOP ADDING POSTS FASTER THAN I CAN READ THEM.'

Wow. Little bit of aggression there. On the plus side: yay for free uni internet. Jeez.

PS: Can you help me out on the Vegas issue? I'll buy you a drink.

What I Want To Do Weekends, Part 5: Las Vegas

ONE MONTH TO GO, BITCHES. SEE YOU THERE!

After having no internet for the whole entire weekend, except for ten minutes last night, during which I managed to post about my shoes and jewellery (lucky I didn't have anything important to say), I now have my internet back, at a ridiculously slow pace. We're talking slower than dial-up. Hopefully, it won't die completely before I click post.

I have important emails to reply to and 160 unread posts in my Bloglines list. If I don't answer or comment, it's because I tried to but got timed out or decided ten minutes was too long to wait to tell you that your post was hilarious.

HOWEVER. I owe you a What I Want To Do Weekends post, so here it is.

Things I Want To Do In Vegas:

Go to Vegas.

That's it.

I'm sorry. I suck at this. I just seriously have no idea what you do in Vegas. There are lots of hotels and casinos there, but what am I actually supposed to do? You can't gamble all day. You could sip cocktails by the pool all day. That does sound fun actually. But what else is there to do there? Please, pretty please help me out.

I may even be able to read your reply sometime before I get there.

OH MY GOD. I ALMOST FORGOT!

Today is the 15th of June. Guess when I leave? THE 15TH OF JULY. A month to go. Wow.

Bits and Pieces

My necklace broke. I feel so naked without it.

My new heels got to go out for the first time on Wednesday. They did wonderfully.

What is it that I'm doing in my sleep that made me a lose an earring and an earring back, on two separate nights?

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.

BlogHer Progress Report

Hopefully you're all sitting because here it comes: Only THIRTY-FOUR DAYS til I leave for BlogHer! Whoa man. Here's where we're at:

Flights to San Francisco (via Auckland!): Booked.

Entertainment for the flight: Planned. I am way behind on my planned May/House June/Holmes thesis preparation thing, but if I finish House before I go, Holmes can be studied while on the plane. That should put me to sleep, if nothing else.

BlogHer registration: Booked.

Business cards: Designed. Not yet ordered but I'll get on that.

BlogHer hotel room: Booked.

Company for BlogHer: Planned, but still need a pic.

Getting to know people who'll be at BlogHer: In progress. If you're going to BlogHer and don't appear on my blogroll over there, let me know. I'm trying to get at least a little familiar with everyone's blogs before I get there.

San Francisco plans: coming together.

People to road trip and eat with between San Francisco and Vegas: Done and done.

International licence: Acquired. Intention to actually drive, especially anywhere remotely near LA: Notably absent.

LA plans: coming together. Thank all you guys for your great comments on the last post.

Flights around the country: Booked. In between flights into and out of San Francisco, I get to see Vegas, Charlotte, Huntsville, Detroit and Phoenix airports. Does America not do the whole direct flight thing?

Stressing: Done and finished with. At least for a while.

Funny paper money: Thanks to vsquared, kinda done. Not really though. Closer to the actual date. When I hopefully will have some money.

Phone: Still trying to figure out if/how I can use it while I'm over there. Anyone with any phone expertise, help!

Shoes: Definitely done.

Cute summer outfits: Not done, and not likely to be. It should be illegal to be 12 degrees and raining (icy cold rain) in the middle of the day.

Outfits nevertheless planned out: Getting there. I'm working on my on-the-plane outfit, and will move on to my first-day-of-BlogHer one in a bit. And then there's the party ones! I still think cocktail party dress shopping in SF is a good idea.

Reading a new "I'm going to BlogHer" post at least once a week and getting crazy excited each time: Hell yeah!

Where are you at on BlogHer? Bored? Excited? Scared? Let me know!

What I Want To Do Weekends, Part 4: Los Angeles

Here's my thing about California in general: I'm pretty sure many famous people could walk right past me and I wouldn't recognise them. Or I would be so busy taking a photo of a sign that said 'Orange County' or something that I totally wouldn't be paying attention to all the famous people I would recognise. Famous people? Pretty much wasted on me.

However! LA is a big city; I'm thinking we can find something else to keep me occupied.

On a side note, I have been to LA before. Twice, actually. The first time all I saw was LAX. The second time, I'd been from France back to England, a day or so there, then to New York, a day (more or less) in JFK, then to LAX, then several hours there while they realised that a door was broken and couldn't be fixed. So I got to see lots of neon signs on the way to the hotel they put us up in. That night in the hotel after ten bajillion years of travelling was heaven. AND I got to see photos from Fashion Week in New York that this Australian photographer had just taken.

So no, I haven't been to LA, or seen any of the things on the list below:

I want to take a photo of the Hollywood sign, and a sign that says The OC. Also signs that say UCLA and the Staples Center.

There seem to be a lot of streets that I should see: Rodeo Drive, Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood Boulevard. Ok that doesn't seem like a lot when I put it like that. What did I forget?

I want to see Venice Beach. Ooh, we could go surfing! Do I know how to surf? Not in the least.

If there's time, Disneyland and/or Universal Studios would be awesome.

Oh, and? I just remembered something that wasn't on my USA list but I'm pretty sure we could do in LA: one of those hotdogs from the carts like on the sidewalk. Yeah!

Now that I've demonstrated I know absolutely nothing about LA, could you help me out? What do I need to do in LA?

Letter To My Body

Dear Body,

I'd like to thank you for bringing me this far. We've had almost 23 years together and I'm planning on having a lot more. You've been with me through the hot and humid wet seasons in Darwin, when I made you sweat like freaking crazy. I'd like to think that taught me enough to keep you well-hydrated year-round. You came to America with me, for three months in the summer of 2005. That was a fun one. We were active and tanned - we looked hot! Then we moved to Adelaide, and I am so sorry I subjected you to this dry, cold climate. I'm working on finding the perfect moisturiser for us, but it has yet to appear. And in 38 days, we will be heading back to America, this time for BlogHer08! Between you and this blog, I'm hoping I will make an awesome impression. If I seem to be abusing you, in particular, your liver parts, that's just because I'm nervous, or having an awesome time. Possibly both. I promise to eat lots of greasy fries and drink lots of water; neither of us likes throwing up the next morning, and luckily, we rarely do. You've been with me through the basketball six days a week seasons, and the laying on the beach or the couch times, and now we're into the cycling 30 minutes a day routine. Hope that's ok. I'm feeling pretty good about it so far.

I would like to make special mention of a few parts in particular:

To my toes: When I was a little kid, I had a bit of an issue with you. There was a huge space between my big toe and the one next to it, caused, I believe, by wearing thongs (flip-flops) year-round. My parents did not believe in closed-in shoes for kids in Darwin, and I have to say, I don't believe in closed-in shoes for adults in Darwin. Hot and humid, baby. I was, however, very happy that my second toe was bigger than my big toe. I felt so sorry for my poor friend whose toes were in decreasing size order. The imperfections we have to live with. These days, I am perfectly happy with you. I force you into all kinds of painful but hot-looking shoes, and paint your nails bright colours. That makes me happy.

To my legs: I feel like we have a meh relationship. My calves are generally fairly shapely, and sometimes reach the level of tannedness that I like. My thighs are generally a tad thicker than I'd like, but hey, that's the price of Maccas and double-choc ice-cream. I shave you, except when no-one is going to see you, and you get me from point A to point B. We're a decent team.

To my hips and arse: (Oh, my god. 'Baby Got Back' just came on my computer. Spooky!) Arse verse same as the thighs. Honestly, I like the curves you guys give me. Sometimes you go a little overboard with it, and you are a freaking pain to buy jeans for, but you know what? I like you. We're cool.

To my tummy: From looking at older female relatives, you are going to be my downfall. I do not want to be mistaken for a pregnant person if I am not pregnant. At the moment, you're doing ok. Right at this moment, you should have a fricking six-pack, with the constant work-out you're getting from my 24/7 coughing. ('I Got It From My Mama' just came on. Now you're just messing with my mind.)

To my arms: You guys are so good. Always slim, voted most likely to be at an acceptable level of tan, unlikely to win any wrestling competitions, but I'm ok with that. Stay cool, dudes.

To my boobs: You were always a little less than I would like. When I look at pictures of you (with the rest of the body, naturally) from a few years ago, you were so little! And then I put on a little weight, and bam! there you were. It was a huge thrill buying my first C-cup. I doubt you're going to get any bigger, and I am perfectly fine with that. We had a little thing there for a bit, and that 2.8cm lump is still there. Just keep an eye on yourselves ok?

To my face: I always liked my lips. My mouth on the other hand ... my smile is just weird. I'm working on both the smile and the caring about it. My nose is ok. Cheekbones are decent, especially in photos where I blow a kiss - then they rock! My eyelashes could stand to be a little longer and thicker, but that's why God invented mascara. My eyes are green, which I love. They could stand to be little darker or more dramatic, but I was always glad they weren't boring old blue or brown. My eyebrows I have left alone, but I'm thinking they could be slightly improved. They've done their job so far (whatever that may be) and I'm happy to leave them to it.

And finally, to my hair: Oh, my hair. Right now, you are long, dark, and straight. Through most of my childhood, you were around shoulder-length, thick as, and way curly. I was never not happy to have curly, as I understood - theoretically - that I had more options this way, that people would kill for curly. What I struggled with was how to control it. And that was my mistake. I actually got quite good at controlling it, but the awesomeness would have been in letting it go free and crazy. Away from the humid influence of Darwin, it is straight maybe five days out of the week. This is so much easier to deal with, and worth the half-hour it takes me to straighten it. I do worry that it's getting thinner, and forgetting how to be curly. Please don't; I really love you, the more so because I only see the thick glorious curls on special occasions.

And so, my body, that is you. Way more than the sum of your parts, because you are me. You, this blog, and my brain (which I worry about sometimes: yes we get High Distinctions, and know the difference between your and you're, but what do we really know?) - you three are Me. And that is awesome!

Worth My Time

Sometimes when I'm riding to work I think about how long it takes me. Say thirty-five minutes there, thirty-five minutes back. Some days I only do a four-hour shift. Four hours for an hour travelling time. Is that worth it?

The other day we had a staff meeting. Or, more accurately, "staff meeting." It turned out that an hour and a half of the three hour "meeting" was us doing normal work. When you combine that with the fact that only half the staff were actually there, my crazy-annoying cough that still hasn't gone away, and the fact that I had a not-yet-finished presentation to do at uni the next day, I'm thinking that no, an hour's ride (at night, in fricking freezing temperatures) was not worth it.

It's going to take me approximately a bajillion years to get to San Francisco from Adelaide. In actual Earthling time, that equals about sixteen hours. Bor-ring. Is more than thirty hours flying time worth twenty days of BlogHering, drinking, touristing, meeting, and summering?

HELL YEAH.

Picture That

I have a new camera. Isn't it pretty?


My new camera lets me take photos of this:



and this:



Which means that not only have I exercised three days in a row, but that I am actually going to talk to a real live awesome blogger. Yay me!

A Little Less Conversation, A Little More Action

Hey, SAFM. If you advertise your Ad-Free Fifty in between every single song, it ceases to be ad-free.

Everyone else, is singing while cycling more aerobically effective?

Health and Fitness (HA!)

I have a cough. It sounds like a fake cough. And I can't control it. I am going to stab myself in the throat soon.

On the plus side, it's really working out my stomach muscles, which is a great segue into my second point.

In our backyard, there is a shed. In the shed, there is an exercise bike.

Being that my physical activity has gone from playing (two grades plus social), coaching (two teams), and reffing basketball, to um, nothing, I thought maybe I should do something with this bike. Like, I don't know, exercise?

I'm sure this is all fascinating, but the point is that you can now pop back in any weekday and nag ask me if I've done my thirty minutes of cycling. And then kick my arse for being lazy. Deal?

What I Want To Do Weekends, Part 3: Bloggers

COUNTDOWN TO BLOGHER: NEXT MONTH. (OMG!!!)

Here are some of the things I would do if I could have a day with each of these awesome bloggers.

FCM and Ricky: Luckily, I don't have to imagine, cos I will actually get to hang with them in San Francisco!

Sit in The Bar all day while SuperTiff makes me drinks and tells off stupid customers.

Go to her kids' wrestling or t-ball games with Aimee.

A day at the park with Zoot, LilZ and NikkiZ (and now AndyZ!).

Cosmetics advice from Amalah and hair advice from Whoorl.

Have to get a photo of Kelley and Dooce.

Eat at Outback Steakhouse with Holly. Bitch about Freakin MM.

A trip to Monkeytown with Chris and Beth and Mia and Owen.

Then I have a whole bunch of people I just want to hang with, and yes, that means you.

Plus, no doubt there are people I don't even know I want to meet yet that I will get to meet at BlogHer and wish I'd met sooner!

What bloggers do you want to spend a day with, and what would you do?

The Obligatory Freak-Out

COUNTDOWN TO BLOGHER: 45 DAYS. (HOLY CRAP!)

There are only forty-five days til I leave for BlogHer. That is not very many. I would like to take this opportunity to freak the fuck out.

What if these bloggy people I think are actual people are, in fact, not. What if they are eighty year old men or aliens from outer space? What if this alleged conference is, in fact, not a conference of awesome people and cocktails, but some imaginary organisation that exists only on the interwebs. And when you go back to the site, it will have disappeared, leaving only one of those annoying 404 error messages. What if the Golden Gate Bridge is not, in fact, golden? Or it is, and that causes it to be so heavy that it falls into the ocean? Or it is, and they charge you a bajillion dollars to set foot on it, and they only tell you this after you've dirtied up their pretty bridge? What if the Stock Market (something I'd always assumed was, in fact, a figment of everyone's imaginations) crashes to the ground and leaves me stranded in America with ten Australian dollars, which will be worth less than the price of one of those sidewalk hotdogs? What if "America" is, in fact, a product of everyone's imagination and television scripts, and I will actually be visiting some kind of very elaborate hologram?

Ok, I'm done. Did I miss anything?

Get Back To Me

When I was an undergrad (like it was sooo long ago), people would occasionally ask the lecturer/tutor if they would check essay drafts for us. I may have even asked. I never, ever took advantage of this. They sure as hell don't want to have to mark something twice, and if it was a different person checking the draft, who is to say their suggestions would make it better by the actual marker's standards? Plus, I was on a schedule, and I tend to forget about an essay the second the word count hits whatever number could be considered close enough to the word limit to hand in.

Now, for some reason, I have had a change of heart. I emailed my Supervisor my Thesis Proposal a week ahead of the due date. Due date being today. And I haven't got it back yet.

Here's what I'm thinking:
Whose responsibility is the due date? She didn't ask. I didn't tell.
This is the Honours topic. She should have a grasp on due dates.
Do I email her now, all 'never mind'?
How pissed am I going to be if she emails it back, with awesome corrections.

Basically, I want some kind of reward for having it done before five seconds before the assignment box closes. Is that too much to ask?

Possessed and Possessioned

I think I'm possessed. By someone who buys a lot of shoes. Possibly Kelley.



At least they are all different. We've got flats, heels, and boots, so it's not like they won't all get worn.

All I need now is clothes to go with them!

What I Want To Do Weekends, Part 2: San Francisco

COUNTDOWN TO BLOGHER: 50 DAYS. (HOLY CRAP!)

Welcome to the second What I Want To Do Weekends weekend. Moving right along from USA in general to the first city on Missy's World Tour. (Actually, the second. Auckland is the first, but I don't think my to-do list for there consists of anything apart from a) get off plane b) pee c) get on BlogHer-bound plane.)

WHAT I WANT TO DO – SAN FRANCISCO

I want to go on the cable cars like the trolley people in The Princess Diaries.

I want to see if the Golden Gate Bridge really is golden, and if Golden Gate Park really is a park. (Kidding. Kinda.)

I want to visit the Haight-Ashbury, Chinatown, and Fisherman's Wharf (including Boudin Bakery, Pier 39, Ghirardelli’s Chocolate, Ghirardelli’s sign, cable car turnaround).

I also want to see The Crookedest Street in the World (between Hyde and Leavenworth) and The Steepest Streets (22nd Street, Filbert Street), Nob Hill, and The Manor from Charmed.

I feel like I should see Alcatraz, but I'm not sure why. Hopefully someone can explain the significance/excitement to me.

Things To NOT Do:

Earthquakes.

What do you think? What did I miss? What can I skip? What are you looking forward to doing in San Francisco? See you soon!!!

QUACK QUACK ...

... BACK TO BACK!



Remember last year?



When Carla was here, and Operation Rubber Duckie rocked out at Battle of the Bands, and Flinders kicked St Marks' arses all the way back to their college? Good times.

Battle of the Bands 2008 was last night, and again, Operation Rubber Duckie rocked the house.



And I rocked the hair, for about half an hour, til all the curls fell out. We still look hot though.



AND THEN UNI HALL WON! AGAIN! FOR THE SECOND YEAR IN A ROW, OUR NAME IS ON THE CUP! HELL YEAH!

Pizza Party

My grandma and my aunty are coming over for dinner tonight. They haven’t seen me or the house since I moved in. This wasn’t on purpose on my part. I always intended to invite them to dinner, but then uni happened and work happened, and I didn’t. Until now.

They don’t think I can cook. When I asked what they wanted to eat, they said, “Oh, well, you’ll want to cook something simple.” When I suggested home-made pizza, they said, “You’ve been practicing pizza, have you?”

Actually, no and no. For me, one person, yes I want to cook something simple. I’m a slacker like that. For three people, I don’t mind putting in a little more effort. And I never cook pizza for myself. I figured it would be a crowd pleaser, and yeah, ok, hard to mess up. Add in some garlic bread and salad for not much more effort and call it a meal.

My room is tidied, the kitchen table is clear of bottle caps and cards, and the pizza and garlic bread are ready to go into the oven.

The salad is at the shops, where I forgot it. Who says I can’t orchestrate a whole dinner party?

I had to write that earlier, in Word, because my internet took an afternoon nap. Now it's 9:47pm and my guests have just left. They left me a mere two slices of pizza and a small piece of cheesecake for breakfast. I think we can call that a success.

Woohoooo!!!

Miss Zoot had her baby!

And David Cook won American Idol!

Today is a good day.

Dinner's Ready

When I was little, my dad would sometimes call me from work when I got home from school and ask me to take the meat for dinner out of the freezer and let it chill out in the fridge. Invariably I would forget until some point later in the afternoon, but this was ok as I could simply take it out, leave it on the bench in Darwin's lovely (read: stinking hot) weather, and it would be defrosted in time for dad to cook it for dinner.

It seems that my childhood left me illprepared for both following instructions and defrosting food in Adelaide's more chilly climate.

Spendings

Last night the bra strap from my very favouritest bra broke. This necessitated a trip to Harbourtown for a replacement, even though I am supposed to be saving for, um, that thing I can't talk about in this post.

When I got there, I headed right to the back of the store where my favouritest bra lives. And freaked right the hell out because WHERE IS MY FAVOURITEST BRA? And then the shop slapped me upside the head and pointed out that I'd walked right past it on my way in. So I bought two.*

While I was at Harbourtown, I decided to have a look for a hoodie, even though I am still saving for that thing, and even though I bought one on Monday. That one I'm still doubtful about, and it is still in its bag with its receipt, so you know I didn't completely and totally fall in love with it. On way out, the girl was all, "Are you looking for anything in particular?" And I was all, "No, thanks, just looking." What I should have said was "Zip up, hoodie, drawstring hood, pockets, pretty picture or logo on the front middle, long enough to cover the top of my jeans, under $30, makes me want to jump up and down and dance." Alas, I don't think this hoodie actually exists anywhere in the world ever.

*When I got home today I realised that the strap could be fixed quite easily. Where I thought I had none, I actually had one, and now have three of THE MOST PERFECT BRA IN THE WORLD. So it's all good.

Dude, find another topic

Ok, new rule: I can't have two BlogHer posts in a row.

Since there's guaranteed to be one every weekend, this means that you at least get one normal post every single week! And if I can't go from one weekend to the next without mentioning San Francisco, you get two! Woohoo, right?

This week, it seems I can't, because I have a) no self control, b) nothing else interesting to talk/think about, and c) a craving to win a contest.

Dude, everyone in the whole world is currently running a contest on their blogs. I'm thinking I should join in, but that's not this post. Be patient.

This post is to tell about an awesome prize being given away (to me, hopefully) by Psychicgeek. Go check it out. How much fun could I have with that if I won? My question to you: if you had a free flight to anywhere in the world, where would you go? (Let's assume you've already been to visit me.)

Housekeeping, Literally

We now have a jobs roster. Twice a month I am required to be a contributing member of this household. Today I did the vacuuming. (Who was it that recently had trouble spelling that? Cos hells yeah, it's a confusing word.) If you ever feel the need of an upper-body workout, just come and use our vacuum. If you could make it the first week of the month that would be awesome.

I just bought a heater. Despite being all "BLOGHER! SAVE MONEY! BLOGHER!" all the time, I'm sorry, it had to be done. Adelaide is cold, man. I was told to buy an electric blanket but no way. Those things scare the crap out of me. I don't want to be electrocuted in the middle of the night, thank you very much.

Seriously, what is it with these boys that don't value the sleep hours? No, that's not even it. It's more that our rooms are the only places we have to ourselves and damn we need them. And even more that I think girls have some kind of inborn terror alert when their bedroom doors are opened and lights switched on at ungodly hours of the morning. And no, "shit happens" does NOT excuse it.

I went grocery shopping today. Sometimes I wonder what the checkout people think about what customers buy. The other week I literally bought bread, milk, and toilet paper. What a cliche. Today I bought everything. Seriously. I had no bread, butter, milk, sausages, pasta, fruit, or chocolate. All the essentials. It is so lucky I am not responsible for any other living thing on the planet.

What I Want To Do Weekends, Part 1: USA

Welcome to the first edition of What I Want To Do Weekends, all about what I'm planning for the Great BlogHer08 Trip. (It could have been Wednesdays, but first of all, that's already taken, and second, that is so restricting. This way, I figure I have at least four days in which to post. Everyone knows Thursday is the new start of the weekend, and maybe you got the day off on Monday, and if all that fails, it's probably still the weekend where you are, right?) I would appreciate any additions or comments or whatever. The list is continually growing.

So. Part One: USA.

I should mention that I've been there before. In the (American) summer of 2005, I was a summer camp counselor at a sports-oriented camp in New York state. I travelled to Washington DC, New York City, Boston, Niagara Falls, England, and France afterwards. (This is a whole 'nother bajillion posts, which may or may not ever happen.) Point is, some of these things are coming from there, for example, my love of Ben and Jerry, and some are me watching too much American tv. Ok? Awesome.

WHAT I WANT TO DO – AMERICA

I want to eat Ben&Jerry’s, Wendy’s, and Dunkin Donuts. (All summer camp memories.)

I want to eat at Chili’s (like on Veronica Mars), Outback Steakhouse (like Holly), and TGIFriday’s (cos I like the name).

I want to stock up on a particular moisturiser at Walmart ("Marco!" "Polo!") and shop at Super Target (just like Zoot). I want bags from Macy's and Bloomingdales. I want things from Sephora (Advice Smackdown!) and Victoria's Secret. And I want to have breakfast at Tiffany and buy something so I can have another one of those blue boxes.

I want to go through a drive-thru ATM and take a photo of one of those letterboxes with the little red flags.

And I want to go to an NFL or Major League Baseball game.

Phew. I'm very demanding. Any thoughts/additions/reality checks you'd like to put forward?

WiWtdWs will be back next weekend - give or take a day or so - and we are now one weekend closer to BlogHer08!

Let The Rain Fall Down

When I was young, we were down here on holidays one year, and we went to lunch at the house of one of my cousins. I remember Lou taught me how to make flowers out of napkins.

At one point there was a huge thundering sound that wasn't thunder. There is nothing exactly like hail on a tin shed roof. We could hear it coming towards us and then all of a sudden, it was hailing!

Coming from Darwin "Fine and Humid" NT, this was my first experience of hail. It was incredibly exciting. To honour the occasion, I made a hail man. Like a snowman, y'know? He was about 10cms tall.

What? I was a kid. Although here is our weather forecast for today ...



... and I have to say, if it does start hailing tonight, I can't promise that tomorrow won't bring a post entitled "Haily II."

In the meantime, I will be curled up in my bed reading (what else is a rainy day for?) either White Noise (for uni) or Promise Me (because Chris reminded me that Harlen Coben is pretty awesome). You can guess which one will be read first.

Countdown to BlogHer: 60 Days

So, yesterday I was looking at the website for the MGM Grand in Las Vegas (because how awesome would that be? The MGM in Vegas) and I had to click on a drop-down menu to select a month.

And you know what? July is right near the top of the list. We're halfway through May, not at the beginning, and I leave for San Francisco in the middle of July, not the end, as I've somehow convinced myself.



In fact, in just two months I will extremely bored as I fly for a bajillion hours to BlogHer. (Where I will not be bored. Drunk maybe.)

However, I am incredibly old and wise now, thanks to my 2005 trip to America (and then England and France). On that occasion, everything was exciting! And I couldn't sleep in case I missed something! This is an experience! That should be experienced! And yet ... no. Sleep is good. Sleep is so your friend.

Sleep means you will be awake when you get to San Francisco and it is early afternoon and yet it was just night but I left in the morning and ooh vodka.

Your trip to Australia in one easy lesson

It has occurred to me that while I am over here being all, San Francisco is the hilly one, LA is the movie star one, and Vegas is the casino one, you all over there might be just as knowledgeable (*cough*) about Australia. Therefore I have helpfully prepared a little tutorial for you, which should make planning your trip to visit me so much easier.

We'll start with a blank map of Australia. (By the way, Australia is the same size as the United States.)



Then we'll cut in thirds upways. The left-hand (or western) third we'll call Western Australia. The capital of WA is Perth. Apparently it's a very nice city, but as you can see, the rest of WA is just a whole lot of desert and no people.



Now we'll cut the middle third into top and bottom (or north and south) halves. The top one we'll call the Northern Territory and the bottom one can be South Australia. The capital of the NT, and my hometown, is Darwin. Directly below Darwin is the capital of SA, and my current home, Adelaide. Darwin is rural and crocodiles and kangaroos, and Adelaide is the city of churches and festivals and wineries and footy boys and meat pie floaters.



All up the middle there is another whole lot of desert, except where there is a green bit called Kakadu National Park, and where there is a big rock in the middle of the country. That big rock which you may have heard of is Uluru or Ayers Rock, and it is right next to the town of Alice Springs, if by right near you mean five hours away by car.



And so we move to the east coast, where all the people live. Cutting the left third into thirds the other way, gives us Queensland, whose capital is Brisbane, home of rainforests and theme parks.



Underneath Queensland is New South Wales, where Captain Cook and a bunch of other people landed thinking they were the first people here. The capital of NSW is a little town you may have heard of called Sydney. Sydney has a Harbour Bridge, and an Opera House, and sometimes pretends to be the capital of the whole country.

Underneath NSW is Victoria, capital Melbourne, who has a reputation for having four seasons in one day. Being that I was there in winter, I might be forgiven for thinking they were: rain, hail, drizzle, misery. The good thing about Melbourne is its cricket ground, its shopping, and its tram that goes in a square around the city, both ways, but WHICH ONE WILL ARRIVE FIRST?



So one day Sydney and Melbourne were fighting over which one could be the capital and IF YOU'RE JUST GOING TO FIGHT NONE OF YOU CAN HAVE IT. And so Canberra was born, the capital of the Australian Capital Territory and of Australia. Canberra is full of politicians and trees and snowfields.

Oops. There's an island called Tasmania, it's capital is Hobart, there is a yacht race there from Sydney, and they all marry their cousins.



And so you have it.



Australia. Any questions?

Numbers

I have two important numbers for you today.

500.

This is my five hundredth post. That is a lot of posts.

I recently deleted all my tags because they were annoying me and I was supposed to be writing an essay and so needed something to do instead. Then I re-tagged everything because I was still supposed to be writing an essay. This came a really good time and I got a great look back at everything I'd written.

I almost deleted some, but they were all ones where I'd posted a video clip, or one line about a new template. I would write some of them differently if I wrote them again, but I didn't change them. I am happy with the voice I have now, but first and foremost this blog is a memory, and the voice I had then is a memory as well.

85.

I got my first Honours High Distinction today. (It may well be my last so savour the moment.)

This was an excellent presentation which met all of the criteria. You delivered a sophisticated, confident and yet concise presentation which clearly explained your project.

Your project has an admirable depth and complexity for an Honours project, and you demonstrate a real mastery of the material. You made excellent use of question time, which served to illuminate your project even further.

Yes, I have a real mastery of watching House. It's a talent.

I'm There

Sick of listening to me talk about BlogHer? I finished an essay today. Wanna hear about that? Didn't think so.

Two things.

First of all, the lovely Kelley, like a whole lot of Australian bloggers, won't be at BlogHer this year. Or will she? She has bribed convinced a whole lot of awesome bloggers to take her with them. I like pretty buttons, so I have volunteered as well.



Pretty, no? I'm thinking I should extend this offer to any other bloggers who won't be able to get to San Francisco, but will be drinking there in spirit (and in my bag).

And secondly, I'm thinking there will be quite a few non-Aussie bloggers not going, partially because the Reach Out Tour will cover a bunch of cities that are closer to them than San Francisco is. Now, probably one or two of these bloggers will be awesome ones that I read every day and would scream like a little girl if I ever even saw.

My question is ... can I invite myself to wherever they live? Can I maybe invite myself to drinks or lunch or something with them? Is this totally stalkerish, or is this an opportunity I should seize while I am in the States?

Dude, Seriously?

I have this breakfast routine that I am very fond of.

I went through a couple of stages when I was younger of eating cereal for breakfast, but I have now come to the conclusion that cereal is a dinner food. I had a while there when I didn't really eat breakfast, because the Hall serves breakfast way early, and I had better things to do.

But now, I'm firmly back on toast.

Two slices gets me through class/a shift/an essay/a morning watching cable. The first slice is vegemite. If there is a second, it's peanut butter. (And used to be if there was a third, it was cinnamon sugar.) If I'm out of peanut butter, I'm cool with having both vegemite.

Vegemite is the key here.

And yet, when I woke up this morning, there was no jar of vegemite on the bench. No vegemite in the fridge (where I didn't leave it) or the cupboard (where I also didn't leave it).

How does this happen? I don't get it.

House and Holmes

First, an assessment update:
The four mini-essays I got averaged out to a high credit.
My annotated bibliography was a credit.
Yesterday I had my thesis proposal presentation, which went ok. They liked the topic and I think I handled the questions ok, but it'll probably only be a credit as well.

This is not cool. I don't want to be a credit student. I'm supposed to get distinctions. I don't even want a high distinction, I'm not greedy.

Anyway: House and Holmes.

That is going to be title of my thesis. How awesome is that?

I was going to do something on young adult blah blah dont care but this is going to be way better. I'm basically going to find out where House (the character) came from, whether directly from Holmes, or as a reactionary creation against feminist, psychological, or forensic characters, or whether it's a logical progression from Holmes/Dupin-hardboiled-psych-forensic-whatever.

Sound awesome? I know!

The bad side? I have to watch bajillions of House episodes. It's gonna be so. tough.

The Skywalker Story

Fifteen years ago today I was woken my parents and deposited at my aunty's house. I spent the rest of the night on the couch and when my parents called the next morning, I was informed I had a brother.

Flash forward to 1999: the year of our greatest triumph.

We (by which I mean our dad) had spent weeks constructing the go-kart to end all go-karts. We were entering our school's second annual go-kart race, and we were going to win. I must point out this was the school's second and last race ever for reasons that should become clear.

On the day, we won our heat easily, our go-kart having actual bike wheels and not wooden or plastic ones, and not covered in tiger fur but having an awesome red seat. We advanced to the finals and I even remember who we were against: the Egan boys. I was the only girl in the comp and I was going to enjoy beating them.

We got ahead, naturally, and got around the first turn. As we were going down the longest straight, I felt the Egan boys' kart ram into my heels. Of course, I went flying, but I gave Skywalker a huge push as I did. I refused to let anyone touch me, even though my knees and palms were scraped to hell, but I had some weird idea we would be disqualified if anyone 'interfered,' and tried to follow.

All of which was irrelvent, as Skywalker had continued on down the slight slope to the finish line, all by himself, meaning ... CHAMPIONS!

So today, on his fifteenth birthday, I would like to remind Skywalker of our awesome victory. That was a brilliant day and I hope you have a bajillion more just like it.

(My knees: "Maybe not exactly like it.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SKYWALKER, MY LITTLE BROTHER.