To Plan Or Not To Plan

You may recall that vsquared, skywalker, and I (my dad, my brother, and myself, respectively) are heading off on a road trip just after Christmas.

Dad would like it to be some driving off into the sunset, going where the road takes us, beholden to no man, kind of thing. Which I like the sound of, not least because I really have no idea how I did the same trip in three days last year. (I got a speeding ticket. I don't know if that's at all relevent.) Which is all well and good, except that ... the road is taking us to Melbourne. And also it's one of the most touristed stretches of road in Australia. But hey, I'm down with throwing cares to the wind and whatever else.

Until I got asked what had happened to all the planning I was supposed to be doing. Um, like that planning we were expressly forbidden to do? Yeah, that.



The trip, she is planned.

(I am totally not ripping on my dad, here. We are both completely on the same page, which is the one titled Plan Now, Rock Out Later, but also, I have to say, Giving Shit is in the Daughter job description, as is Plan The Perfect Road Trip While The Boys Bum Around At Home, so you know I can't help it. Any of it.)

Body Image Goals

I had my first session with Pushy McTrainerson the other day. It was basically an assessment of my fitness level - how many push-ups can you do (25), can you reach your toes (no), how many sit-ups can you do in a minute (28), what's your exercisey heart rate (high enough to make him ask if I'd just drank coffee), height (175cms) and weight (61kgs), and a bunch of questions about goals.

I told him my long term goal was to get fit enough to run a whole game of basketball, and my immediate goal was to exercise enough so I could wear a bikini at the beach this summer.

When I mentioned this second one he asked "What's stopping you?" And I told him nothing is stopping me. I would go to the beach and wear a bikini and have an awesome time looking exactly like I do. Would I have a better time after I've been going to the gym for a few weeks, slathered on some fake tan, and gotten a bikini wax? I don't know.

He asked me if I thought I was doing it more for other people or myself. I told him I didn't know. Society imposes these values on everyone, but I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to, or if it didn't give me at least a small amount of pleasure. I know that I sleep better and probably eat better when I'm getting regular exercise. I rarely feel truly bad about the way I look, but I suppose since the gym is meant to keep me getting to where I don't feel good, it's making me feel better about myself. (Except for where I hate how I am one of those people who go to gyms and talk about their workouts and their personal trainers!)

I thought that was an interesting question, but I'm still not sure what use he would put the answer to. Is someone with major body image issues going to be turned away? Encouraged? Helped? Are we ever truly doing things entirely for ourselves, or entirely because of other people's expectations? And if I am happy to wear a bikini right now, what am I doing at the gym, and how do I know when I can stop?

And why am I posing all these questions on a weekend, when we should, by definition, be relaxing and not thinking?

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.

The Internet Age Needs To Take A Chill Pill

Does anyone know why Blogger's new embedded comment form refuses to work for some people? Computers are being threatened with rocks if this issue isn't resolved.

I'm not really a fan of Facebook's new chat feature. More specifically, I don't like people jumping right in and chatting to me when really I was just there to see if there were any new comments on my photos, or something. On the other hand, I really like it for jumping on, asking someone a quick question, and going back to whatever I needed the answer for. On the other other hand, it's like, I sign in to Facebook when I wouldn't sign on to a messaging program cos I don't want to chat, and then people pop up all HA! "hi!" and then you have to chat. On whatever the next hand is, I totally do that to people too, especially cos I have a bunch of people on Facebook that I don't IM with. So yeah. Facebook chat: I feel like protocol is still being established. (That was way more words than ever needed to be written about Facebook chat.)

Don't you think it's weird that everyone totally knows what you're doing every second? Like, someone could publish a blog post and then someone else could comment, and you'd be like, "OMG, that person was totally just reading my blog!" And then you could reply to their comment, and they'll know that you're on your computer. Or if you didn't reply, they'd be like, "Why the hell not, when you're on Facebook chat right this second and your Twitter feed says you're lazing around watching TV?" I guess my point is that it now seems weird when instantaneous communication doesn't elicit an immediate reply. The internet age needs to take a chill pill.

Words that Blogger's spellcheck doesn't understand: Blogger's, Facebook, IM, OMG, internet.

It's like you don't know me at all

The gym I joined makes you pay for two personal trainer sessions when you sign up, and somehow convinces you that they're free, so you're very excited about it.

Anyway, after a little mix-up involving me not giving the brain-washing gym people my actual phone number, a personal trainer called me this afternoon to book my first session.

Him: So, are you available tomorrow?
Me: Uh, yeah, tomorrow's ok.
Him: What time is good for you?
Me: Probably lunch time is best.
Him: So, sometime in the morning?
Me: I guess I could do the morning. What time were you thinking?
Him: How's nine for you?
Me: Ridiculously early.
Him ...?
Me: Nine's fine.
Him: Actually, 8:45 is better, don't you think?
Me: ...?!

And then I hung up because you just know his next suggestion was going to be even earlier.

Get A Haircut ...

I don't know if I should be telling you this, because if I don't get it, it will be very embarrassing, and that would be bad. On the other hand, it probably wouldn't be, because if we just all don't expect much then we won't be disappointed or embarrassed. And on the plus side, we will have a really cute outfit out of it. One which would be totally wasted if I actually did get it. The job, I mean, not the outfit. I am definitely getting the outfit. Oh, did I not mention a job? Yeah, that's probably a good thing. Because there may not be one. For me, at least. I'm fairly certain there actually is one. There is definitely an interview. For me, even. I am fairly certain of that. That's where the outfit comes in, so you know I would remember that correctly. Rambling skills? I has them, for sure.

BlogHer08 Conference: Looking Ahead to 09

I wrote this post a little while after I got back from the conference and promptly forgot about it. Things in italics are me writing from now, as some things needed to be changed from what I wrote way back then. Here we go.

As a bunch of people have already posted, BlogHer has announced the location of the 2009 conference. I posted - a lot - about the people and places from my San Francisco trip, but didn't really mention the conference as a whole. Here is my take on the conference - what worked and what would be good for 2009.

I know I am way behind everyone else; they've moved on, I clearly haven't.

Or, I was on holiday and wanted to wait until I could think about this before writing it. Take your pick. (Or I wanted to save up for an important occasion like NaBloPoMo where it would do some good.)

In essence: The conference? Amazing.

(You didn't think I was going to leave it at that.)

Tiff and I were very brave, made easier by the fact that pretty much everyone was nice and willing to talk to everyone else. Next year, I think I would rather introduce myself as "Missy, from Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch," but I don't regret playing the Australia card so much this year.

Yeah, I said next year. We might as well address this straight up. I want to go back next year. Yes, BlogHer, you suckered me in. After summer camp, we were all, "We totally have to keep coming back," but hardly any of us did. It was just not practical. Now, it's possible that BlogHer09 will not be practical either. But I think I would get more out of returning to BlogHer than I would have returning to camp, so I am more motivated to make it work.

I might as well un-address this straight up: I am like 90% sure I will not be going to BlogHer09. A trip around the world every year is kind of insane. I would rather do it properly every second or third year than go for the weekend and have to come home due to lack of spending/travelling money. When the conference is in Australia, then we'll talk.

I actually learned things at the sessions. (Basically I went to BlogHer to squeal at people, so this is kind of a shocker.) Some I went to more because I was interested than because they were relevant to me (if that makes sense), but I enjoyed them anyway. Due to scheduling conflicts, I missed out on some sessions I would have liked to attend. I did feel there was sometimes a divide between new and more experienced bloggers as far as discussion topics from the audience within sessions, which is a hard thing to control. (Also: Shut up about Twitter.) (Ahahaha. Awesome.) When I'm settled back, I plan to listen to as many of the recordings as I can.

The best session was Maggie Mason's one on Pursuing Your Passion. All three speakers were great, all very funny, and Maggie was the best moderator I saw. It was like a big conversation between friends; there was audience participation, but not so much that having speakers seemed pointless.

The food was not brilliant. Serving the same thing three days in a row gives the impression that it is the exact same box that was left over from three days ago. Not cool. The dessert rocked though, as did the Ghiradelli chocolate. And those cookies that time. Good work for having water bottles available all the time, I definitely needed it.

The ballroom was definitely the most intimidating room, as I mentioned. The reason being is that once any number of people are sitting at a table, they are "a group" - even if they were all random individuals who just happened to sit down at the same table. Having everyone in "groups" makes it hard to sit down. My suggestion is to assume everyone is just random individuals and sit down wherever the hell you like.

The speed dating did not work very well. From what I heard of last year, it worked much better the way they did it then (two circles facing each other, moving over one person every howevermany minutes). The first problem was that when we got up to move, the people behind us skipped our table in favour of the one ahead of us, leaving us with nowhere to go. The second problem was that, with the exception of the two new people, everyone had already heard everyone's introduction, yet they had to keep repeating it. The third thing - not necessarily a problem - was that it broke down fairly quickly, and everyone was moving randomly. Or not. And if not, you really got out what you were putting in.

Popular bloggers are not famous people. Except at BlogHer, where I hope everyone felt like royalty at some point or another.

Sponsors. I have no problem with BlogHer being sponsored to all hell. It's expensive enough as it is, go crazy, guys. There were a lot of products geared towards mums, but guess what? There were a lot of parents there. Shocker there's a correlation. I am very glad the Recycling Room was there; there was no way I was carrying everything I got all around the country and back home.

The Community Keynote was awesome. Must have it next year.

Also keep: the massage/relaxy room. Even if there's no massages, having a chill-out place was very welcome. I found out later about the AlphaMom Re:Boot Room, which sounds like it was awesome, and just what many people could have done with.

I am sure I missed something, but I think this'll do. Thank you a bajillion times to everyone who worked so hard to make it happen, and everyone who attended, you all are freaking awesome.

On the topic of the 09 location: I am surprised they are revisiting a city where the conference has already been held, but as it's a city I haven't visited, I would still be happy with it. If I was going. So maybe I should be annoyed it's not somewhere I've already been. Anyway. I'm glad they got the (very loud and repeated) message about having the hotel and conference in one building, and it looks like 09 will be an awesome conference. Whoo!

The Perfect Dress

Once again, I have an occasion coming up that absolutely requires the Perfect Dress.

Graduation is in December and, despite the fact that I'll be wearing the full robe and hat deal and could therefore be in my pajamas for all you'd know, I'm currently shopping for the elusive Perfect Dress.

Usually I know kind of what I want, and if they don't have it, I'm in and out. I'm an awesome shopper like that. But this time I have no idea. We did look at Marion the other day so, okay, I have a few small ideas: not strapless, not straight across at the top (ie, I'm a whore who wants to show off what little cleavage I can achieve), and summery, whatever that means. I was leaning towards white or yellow, but I'm not sure I should actually ever be wearing either of those colours.

I know I've been very querying thus far in NaBloPoMo, but I really need your help here. Any idea what the hell one wears to a summer graduation ceremony? Pretty pictures will be rewarded. Somehow.

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!

The Celebration Continues

Last night was the Hall Musical. I really didn't know what to expect, but I have to tell you, there are some hella talented people at Flinders. It was a murder mystery, with people from the Hall being killed one by one. It was written and performed and musicked and whatever elsed by Hallies, which makes it all the more impressive.

And it was hilarious. They were all playing different people from the Hall, and it was amazing how they managed to capture the mannerisms and sayings and things like that from each of their characters. Love. I also loved the Glossary, specifically some of the things they felt it necessary to include, such as "Ranga," "Tekkin 3," and "Facebook."

This morning was the Christmas Pageant, but I decided that a warm bed was better than an 8am start in dubious weather. Next year!

Tonight was dinner at Hoggies with the work crew. Very tasty, although not the best experience I've had there. Our drinks were sitting out so long that the cream melted, and no, it wasn't even hot inside. I do love me some curly fries, however. And after that we went to Bracegirdle's, which is a chocolate place at the Bay. One word: yummmmmmmm.



Celebration Day Three: Success!

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:

Last Essay!

Today I handed in my last essay.

I haven't mentioned the topic before now, because I didn't want to influence my subject at all, but I managed to babble out almost 6000 words on the monetisation of the blogosphere. (I'll probably add all the links I used later on.)

Of course, handing it in couldn't go smoothly - every time I sent my 4 page reference list to the printer it came up as 32 pages and $5 worth. Uh, no thanks. So that was weird. In the end the library tech people printed it off with their card just to see what would happen. It printed out the four pages no worries. No idea how much they got charged for it though!

Then the library stapler was out of staples, so I had to ask that library person for some. She was all, "You can just use the electric one," which frankly scares me. But I did it. And it was out of staples. Yeah, the library people really hated me today.

In the end, though, I HANDED IN MY LAST ESSAY!

Which means I'm done, which means I am heading out! Pics from the Tons to come, maybe tomorrow, or maybe not, because I have a very full few days ahead of me, and I am hella excited!

Ok, so my mates are taking their sweet time getting ready to go out, so here are the links I used in my essay. Thanks all!

Dooce.com Heather B Paul Boutin Bri Amalah Federated Media: Dooce Reyhan Harmanci Heather Holly Whoorl Kacey Carrie Kirby The Bloggess MommyTime Rose Rose Sara Technorati: State of the Blogosphere 2008

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!!!

On This Day

On this day, history was made. On this day, the United States of America elected their new president. On this day, two young Australian girls texted each other about the election of Barack Obama.

Much as I want to smack America for considering itself the centre of the universe, I have to admit that on occasions like this one, it really is. This decision will affect the future of America and the rest of the world. Yesterday, I watched the Melbourne Cup - the race that stops a nation - and today I watched Obama's victory speech ... another event which stopped a nation. This was the first time I have heard him speak, and I have to tell you, I got a shiver. Several times.

I think it is very cool of America to elect Obama as president.
I am glad the political posts can stop.
I find it impressive that so many of you cared so deeply about the future to write all those posts.
I find it odd that you guys don't have to vote, and that some of you had to wait so long to do so.
I am glad that you did.

Here's to an awesome future for the whole entire world.

This is totally a post about music! Yes, it is!

I wouldn't post about the gym again, would I? Surely not.

Anyway, my new gym routine includes running on the treadmill for 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 minutes, with slack-arse walking in between. Instead of me just watching the clock, and having to do all that complicated maths, I decided to make a music mix, so instead of the other way - which provided way too many opportunities for cheating and negotiating - I have to keep running/walking til the end of the song, then switch it up.

Awesome idea, right?

Except ... do you how hard it is to find music that (1) is totally upbeat enough and keeps me interested in the song for its entire length, (2) conforms to the beat caused by however the hell fast the treadmill makes me run/walk, and (3) is exactly 1 minute (2mins, 3mins...) long?

Hard. Way hard.

But totally effective! I want to make another CD, so I don't get bored with just having one. People who are used to doing things like this / people who listen to music: what are some good running songs? (Bonus points if they finish on the minute or half minute.)

Falling Apart

My world seems to be falling apart. Like, literally. This is not me being all dramatic because I can't find my favourite pair of boxer shorts or whatever. (Although seriously? Holly? Tiff? Las Vegas? Did I leave them with you?)

I had to take the Scarlet Lady in for a service today. It only took a few hours, and I told them to check the spark plugs, which I'm pretty sure is what caused her little tantrum the other day. If I pick her up tomorrow and they say that wasn't it, I'm going to send them back in to look for some other problem.

My wireless internet adaptor cracked the shits and refused to be recognised by my computer. I spent a very unproductive 23 minutes on the phone with tech support, who told me I could call them back, press 4 instead of 2 and they'd arrange for me to send the adaptor to them. I said thanks, hung up, and spent five minutes at Tandy getting a replacement and free upgrade.

Our shower head has been wobbly for some time, but nothing that affected the basic operation of the system. Until yesterday, when it decided to break completely off. Now, you get to have a shower with bonus childhood memories of playing under the hose. You also get to wait around the house all day for a plumber who didn't show but bloody well better be here bright and early tomorrow morning, or at the very least by the time you get back from the gym.

Ok, I guess it was me being a little dramatic, since all the things that have broken are fixed, or on their way to being fixed. I'm just glad it wasn't anything essential, like, I don't know, MY SCOOTER, or MY INTERNET, or MY SHOWER. OH WAIT.

Oops. The plumber just showed. I can offically quit my fricking whinging.

Halloween and Homecoming: Help

I came home yesterday to 101 new posts in my feedreader, and probably 98 of them were about Halloween. I'm kind of jealous!

From my time at the Hall, I've decided I love costume parties, of which there are an awful lot when you live there. On the other hand, spend a shitload of money on chocolates and lollies for other people? I'm not really a fan. So I'm kind of glad we don't really do Halloween here (and also I think putting the apostrophe in it is really obnoxious) because there's no obligation, but you will always be able to find a dress-up party happening on the night if you want one.

This year I learned what candy corn is (thanks everyone who posted photos). All this time I had a vague idea that it was that like honey popcorn stuff that I hate. Turns out it's ... what is it exactly? I know what it looks like, and I assume it tastes a lot like sugar, but I still don't know what it is precisely.

So there's that. AND: I was watching Heroes Season One, where they're all, "Save the cheerleader, save the world," all the time, and Claire's about to get killed at Homecoming. And I realised I don't know what the hell Homecoming is, either. Something to do with football ... and cheerleaders ... and a dance ... and kings and queens? I could Google it, I suppose, but I like your answers better than Google's.

NaBloPoMo08: Day One

NaBloPoMo is this thing where everyone saves up all their posts from late October and publishes one a day, every day, for the whole of November. I did it last year, and I'm going to do it again this year. Which ... since my days consist of gym, food, essay, sleep: could be problematic. And also: boring.

Which is where you come in.

Just like last year, I'd love some questions from you lot. Any question, can be about me, or Australia, or anything in the world really. Except for why the chicken crossed the road. I do not have the definitive answer to that one. But anything else, ask away. Then I'll turn it into a post, and voila, another NaBloPoMo day down.



Let's do it!

Exercise = Holiday

When I started going to the gym, I was all, but how am I going to top my reward from last time (which was going to BlogHer in San Francisco)? Even buying new gym clothes pales in comparison to a trip to the other side of the world.

Well, GUESS WHAT?

I have found something totally exciting that I have to look forward to.

MY BOYS ARE COMING DOWN AFTER CHRISTMAS AND WE'RE GOING TO DRIVE THE GREAT OCEAN ROAD IN A CAMPERVAN!

I actually did this trip with two international students last year, but that was in a car, and this will be a bit slower, and we'll be able to see more things along the way, and it'll be much better weather. Plus, vsquared has never driven it, and skywalker hasn't even been out of SA/NT. So it's going to be awesome!



Look up Great Ocean Road on Google Images. Very very pretty drive. I can't wait!

Or I Could Talk About My Essay

I had to walk to the gym today.

(Not entirely true, in that I didn't have to go to the gym. But I am supposed to. And if you can't summon up some enthusiasm for the gym at the start of the week, well, it sets a bad precedent for the other four days that depend on that first one to start them off all happy and energetic.)

Anyway, I feel this is counter-productive. Walking to the gym.

If I WANTED to do exercise outside of the gym, out in the sunshine and fresh air, then I would do that. But no. I prefer to do my exercising inside, with all those sweaty people crammed into one poorly ventilated space, surrounded by machines specifically designed to torture every muscle in my body.

Exercising to get to the gym to do more exercise is wasting all those dollars I pay for pure exercise time at the gym which should not be marred by any exercise elsewhere. It's just wrong!

A Sign From God

Today did not go as I intended. For one, I had to skip the gym, which I was actually looking forward to, since I had a less than stellar day there yesterday, even though I finally got on the constantly-occupied rowers, so I wanted to make up for it, but word on the street is god did not want me to go to the gym today.

As I was forced to admit last summer, the Scarlet Lady does not enjoy the heat as much as I do. And with summer becoming increasingly assertive, I'd already decided that she wouldn't be ridden to work (40mins away) if it was over say 35°C (95°F). Short trips like to uni and Marion, no worries, anytime.

Today? It was 32°. We rode to uni. And she pitched a massive shitfit. That big steep hill up to campus was just too much for her. I had to leave her there while I went up and handed my assignment in, then crossed my fingers she could make it all the way home.

Turns out? She couldn't.* I definitely give her points for getting across the South Road intersection, which is about nine lanes across, but I would have appreciated it even more if she could have made it all the way home. Luckily, I found a place to leave her til it was cooler, even if she protested slightly at the temperature not being below thirty even at 6:30 at night.



I could not make this up. She happened to finally throw in the towel outside the carpark to a chuch bearing that sign. I couldn't not leave her there.

*She is home now, and grounded at least for the weekend, since I have to work, and tomorrow is supposed to be 37 degrees (98.6°F). If only she and I had more in common!

Learning New Skills

I know, I'm shocked. Who knew that uni would actually demand that we learn things? I personally thought my one skill - writing a passable essay at midnight the night before - was the only one they demanded, and the entire course was simply intended to assist with refining this skill.

Last night I finished the weirdest assignment I've had to do in all my time at Flinders - by which I mean it wasn't an essay: the one where we got to practice our cutting and pasting.




How bizarro is that? If that doesn't look like gibberish ... well, want to redo my assignment for me?

THAT Girl At The Gym

I like to think I was that girl today at the gym.

The one who takes about five minutes to untangle her headphone cord. And no, she cannot do it while the treadmill is actually moving.

The one with bright white, brand new, shiny top-of-the range running shoes. You know she won't last a week.

The one who is bargaining with herself on the treadmill. Like, if you run for two more minutes, I'll let you walk for three. If you run for one minute then walk for five, I'll let you go to the library.

The one who is on her cool-down, but decides to go for another three minutes because 'Love Shack' comes on the radio.

The one whose song preferences you can tell by when she cranks up Miley Cyrus and turns it over from a slow song, which, seriously dudes, what were you thinking putting that on in the first place? We're supposed to energetic, here!

The one who manages to get her headphone cords almost irretrievably tangled on the ten steps it took to get from the treadmill to the bike.

The one who rolls her eyes at her bike's computer when it repeatedly screams "HIGH HEART RATE," like, isn't that the whole point? (Now give me a cupcake.)

The one who does a completely exaggerated look of what a darn shame when she discovers two rowers are occupied and the other one is out of order, because honestly, she really and truly wanted to extend her workout.

You know, that girl ... if everyone else at the gym had a blog and was as involved with my workout (hee! "my workout") as I was and rushed home to blog about it even before they had a shower and I'm sure their roommates will thank them for that when they sit down on the couch tonight.

Oh yeah, and the one who said it wasn't going to be a gym blog, but what can she say, because she didn't die two days in a row!

How To Make The Gym Seem Like Fun

Emphasis on the word seem.

Make it all about the outfits!



I could totally endorse athletic wear. Crop top by Nike. Singlet by Cotton On. Shorts by Lonsdale. Socks by Nike. Shoes by Asics. Wristband by Adidas. Ok, so I'm not very loyal, but that will all change when someone starts paying me to go to the gym.

Speaking of, the last time I decided to exercise, I got a trip to San Francisco at the end of it. I fail to see how I am going to find motivation to equal or beat that this time around. Compared to a holiday, new clothes don't really cut it.

This is in no way going to become an exercise blog. For one thing, that would mean I would have to exercise, and for another, that shit is boring. But I thought that today, my first day at the gym, should be commemorated in some way. My goal is to do something at the gym every weekday, and notice I very carefully didn't specify how much something.

So far: I didn't collapse on the treadmill and kill myself. I consider that a total gym success.

Welcome To The Dark Side

I did it. I joined the gym.

I just went in to get prices and whatever - because I fully intend parading around the beach in a bikini all summer, and there are some things that the public should not be subjected to, so the gym was going to have to happen - but god forbid they could actually just hand over a price list and let me escape unscathed.

A consultant was brought out, I got a tour of the place, we had a long chat about my dreams, hopes, and aspirations, and then finally, he was like, hand over your wallet. And even then, when I was like, "Ok, I'll just take this info and get back to you," he was like, "What?" with this really confused look. Why don't you want to sell us your soul right now, this instant, immediately if not sooner?

Anyway, after he went back to his manager to see what kind of deal we could do, since I am, after all, a struggling uni student, he came back with a discount, plus a deal that he just worked out, which was pretty sneaky for two reasons: first of all, excellent sales tactics there, doing even better than the manager said he could (as if all of this wasn't authorised way before it was presented to me) and secondly, he got me signed up for much longer than I was going to, and if I forget to go in and change it, he's got me! All in all, they really do push hard to get you to sign up, but he was very friendly and knowledgeable, so it didn't even seem too bad. Which makes it even sneakier!

But I did get this very trendy backpack and drink bottle, all for the low low price of giving them a bunch of fake phone numbers of my closest friends people I want to torture with incessant phone calls.

House and Holmes

As may have been evident from yesterday's post, I have finished my thesis. It ended up at 58 pages (FIFTY-EIGHT PAGES), including cover sheet, acknowledgements, contents page, etc. The actual numbered pages only go up to 48, mostly due to the fact that the Intro is counted in roman numerals, which I am spewing about. As if I couldn't find two more pages of bullshit to babble about. I'm pretty sure I could have just moved a couple of paragraphs onto the next page and we would have been set. Although, I'm fairly certain 13,037 is enough words for any one person to be expected to read. And SEVEN DOLLARS was certainly enough for me to have to pay to print the stupid thing. On the plus side, I did learn how to make different types of page numbers within a single document.

I spent most of yesterday making sure things were double-spaced, no wait one and a half spaced here, and justified, no wait centered on this page, and OH MY GOD that full stop should have been a comma, and I really think that should have a capital, but if so I have to change all the other lower-case letters that I've already passed, and THE MARKERS BETTER NOTICE THESE MINUSCULE DETAILS.

Speaking of which, I kind of have an issue with the marking of this. Firstly, what the hell was I thinking writing about a pop-culture tv drama? Why did NO-ONE, at any point, tell me to compare Holmes to, like, War and Peace or The Odyssey or something that seems vaguely literary and intelligent. Ahem.

Secondly, how can they even mark it, when I had to make up the question and they really don't know what I was trying to say, or if I should have included something else, because clearly, this is the question, and this is exactly what I was trying to say, and it's written in a way which perfectly answers the question. So HDs all round!

Plus, if the Abstract was optional, then do we get bonus marks for having one? Or if it's really crap, do they take marks off? Cos that would suggest it would be better to not even have one. So many questions!

And thirdly, I feel like we should be able to include little notes to the markers, to the tune of "I included the episodes here and in this particular order because my supervisor told me to, even though she ended that email with the words 'I reckon' which I agree is not a very compelling argument, but it's all I had to go by. Take it up with her, you can leave that HD here while you do so. Cheers."

All that aside, it appears that I have done good just finishing it on time. In my class last week, to which five people showed up, one had done his thesis last semester, two had postponed theirs til next year, and another appeared to be in the middle of a nervous breakdown and was considering doing the same. Seriously, she nearly burst into tears when she found out the due date of our assignment was earlier than she thought. (She did get us an extension, so it wasn't in vain.) So now I am (a) freaking out because I'm pretty sure these are all very smart people and if they weren't able to complete it, what the hell makes me think mine is done well enough to hand in and (b) happy that I once again can experience the feeling that I was so used to having for most of high school - the one where I am smarter than everyone else and was not be up til midnight working on an assignment.

SO, THEREFORE, IN CONCLUSION ... here is me handing in my FIFTY-EIGHT PAGE THESIS and heading off to the beach. Mwah!


See how thick it is? And see me hiding in the shelves so no-one would see what a big dork I was being? Yeah, didn't work. Who knew people actually read those books?

Acknowledgements

I just typed my Acknowledgements page, and I thought you all might like to see it.



Unfortunately, since the guide says we should endeavour to be "brief and restrained" (emphasis all theirs, probably to combat situations just such as this), I might have to take out that last bit. But at least it will be preserved here forever.

I really do appreciate it.

Scary Things Update

I'm fairly certain I just finished writing my thesis. I didn't manage a 2000 word conclusion, but 1515 is close enough. I had a little trouble due to the whole I was supposed to have a point? Shit thing, but it's all good. I could write an abstract, and there is a whole lot of editing of my references to do, but basically, all the words are written. Yay me. Of course, I am not going to do all those little things today like I could, because I do not know how to not finish something ahead of time and would freak out if I had nothing to do the day before.

***

Here was my solution to the swooping magpie problem:


Bite me, magpies.

It was at the suggestion of my darling dad that I donned my scooter riding gear to hang out the washing, but judging from his laughter when I told him I'd actually done it, it was only so I could embarrass myself in front of the internet. But you guys totally believe that magpies are terrifying attack-trained killers, right? Thank you, dad and magpies, for my new-found fear of birds.

Killer Magpie Invasion

I just got SWOOPED by a MAGPIE.

Now, when I was little my dad used to tell us stories about when he was a boy and he had to ride to school swinging his school bag over his head to scare off the magpies. Darwin magpies don't do that, but it never occurred to me that Adelaide magpies would do it TO ME. Dad lived in the freaking country. Town magpies swoop, but city magpies are all civilised when I want to hang out the washing, right? Turns out: HELL NO.

And also, dad? You can't have your mobile off AND be out of the office when I need to call you. I couldn't really leave a message with Random Lady Who Answered The Phone about giant killer magpies who are out to get me, you know? And now how is my washing going to get dry? It's not-cold AND it's sunny today! But there's a magpie! HELP!

Happy Again

If someone was making a movie of my life (and come on, Road Trip II: BlogHer08 is just begging to be made), September would be the montage section, with cuts to me typing steadily, taking notes with books spread out all around me, and sitting in front of the tv eating. A lot.

I would get dressed in my thesis-writing outfit - trackies and many many layers of long-sleeved tops - have breakfast, type, eat lunch, type, etcetera but supersized. There was a lot of "Oh god, I'm so fat." Basically, winter was crushing my spirit.

But then came the awesome hotness of the start of spring. I decided I could no longer wear trackies to work, so I bought a pair of SHORTS and wore them at work that day. And oh my god, the difference that made. Hi legs! Wow, you look so good! Hey there calves, I'd totally forgotten you existed!

(This story doesn't really have a conclusion or a point, so I'm just going to put some stars here and pretend there an awesome finish which was also a wicked good segue into the next part.)

***

As I may have mentioned, my usual essay-writing method is to type and type and hit word count and type some more and oh look, we're at the word limit, type a conclusion, hit print. That's some quality work ethic there, dude.

And as I am totally sure I have not mentioned, not once, never ever, I am type-type-typing away at my thesis. Yesterday I did a bit of consolidation and editing (which seriously, re-reading my own writing? hate. never do it) and got an accurate word-count for the first time. (It's supposed to be 12-15000 words, but I always thought it was 10000, which is quite enough thank you, so that's what I was aiming for.) With a 2000 word conclusion still to go (which, hi, seriously? how do you write a 2000 word conclusion? usually my entire arguement is barely that long), I'm at 9800 words.

Which means I am totally on track, and if I stop messing around here, I could essentially have the whole thing written by tonight. OK FREAK OUT. Back to playing on the internet!

Cos We Don't Need No-One To Tell Us What To Do!

PS: This post took abouuuuut four hours to get done, due to the internets' refusal to upload photos to either here or Facebook. For which FB has been stabbed.

When I asked you all what to wear to the Living End concert, no replies were forthcoming,* which meant that Shelle and Alyce and I were on our own.

Everyone else at the concert: What do you wear to a Living End concert?
Us: What do you wear to HQ (where the concert was held)?



There is a bit of a difference. (And yes, that was like the worst photo I had, but it was the only full-length one of all three of us.)

Anyway, so there we were, being totally hot, and looking like ditzy college students, right down to the drinks our drivers were kind enough to let us stop and buy on the way.



We were pretty impatient through the opening bands, every single member of which made me want to attack them with hairdressing scissors. But we spent the time trying to get the attention of Hat Guy and Photo Guy, without much success.



But then THE LIVING END CAME ON! And we rocked out.



And so did the band. (Spewing I didn't get a photo of the dude playing his big cello thing WHILE STANDING ON IT. AWESOME!)



We decided to take a bathroom break for some fresh air, and what are bathrooms for if not posing in front of their mirrors?



The whole time we were sitting there, we kept saying things like "I can't wait to get McDonalds" and (since the band was taking a break) "We picked a great time to come here." This got us weird looks from some people who thought they were giving them to us after they'd walked past, but HAHA WALL OF MIRRORS WE CAN TOTALLY SEE YOU. We met Shoe Girl, who'd lost both of her shoes in the middle of the mosh pit. (We had actually started the concert there ourselves, with some idiot guys who were not being at all subtle about the pills they were popping, but decided we really didn't want to be crushed, so we moved to the left a bit. Still in the second/third row, which is awesome, right?) And we met Every Single Other Person Who Came In, who was allowed to bring their drinks in, while Alyce had had her water confiscated. Then Shelle got all impatient texting us, and we were like, whatever, we'll go back out when the break's over. And then the security guy was all, everybody out of the bathroom. And we were like, but we like it here!



And then we went out, and all the funny looks we'd gotten kinda made sense, as the whole place was empty except for Shelle. Yes indeed girls, why wouldn't you be allowed to stay in the bathroom during a break?

Annnyway. In short: I love tickets!



*It occurs to me that this may be because you are unfamiliar with the Living End? Is this true? I'd be interested to know. If that's the case, here is their song from which I stole the title of this post (and which COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY rocked the house last night).



More of their songs here and here. And their latest one here.

Blah Blah THESIS! BEACH! SHOPPING! Blah

I am still writing the never-ending thesis. It has still not come to an end. But we're getting there, and I actually suggested to someone today that "If I get my thesis done early..." HAHAHA and then we all died laughing, but at least it seems like it might maybe end, someday in the future.

Also never-ending? My list of things to do in November. Man, I am going to be busy, but seriously, November is going to ROCK THE FUCKING HOUSE. I'm thinking of adding the list to the sidebar, just so I can remember what I wanted to do, because I keep thinking of new things, and The List is as yet not written down anywhere, and you just know I will get distracted by the first thing on it (Beach!) and forget about the rest. If you think of anything I should be doing once I'm free (Freeeee!) let me know, k? Thanks.

I do need to go shopping before November, because we're going to the Living End concert on Tuesday, and I really have no idea what to wear. SUGGESTIONS, PLEASE.

Oh yeah, Reason #1 why November is going to kick arse:



THIRTY DEGREES TODAY, HELL YEAH. (86°F) Did I mention the beach already?

I'm Going to Graduation, parentheses, The Graduation Song

Graduation is held in April, for students who finish at the end of the year. There is a second one held for people who finish at the end of semester one. I decided to skip the April one, since I was going to be doing Honours and would get another one (assuming I pass) in April 09.

However, the graduation people just sent me an email which said (slight paraphrase), "It's almost summer! Your thesis will be over (for better or worse) in less than a month! There are some really pretty dresses out now! How bout you graduate in December of this year?"

So I've decided to go to graduation. With a cap and a gown and all of that.

There are three things standing in my way:
~ Thesis: Due October 15th.
~ Editing Project: Due 24th of October.
~ Special Project: Due 7th of November.

And then I'll be FREEEEEEEE!

How To Lower Your Power Bill ...

... And Other Important Lessons.

How to lower your power bill: Get sick with a fever high enough that you don't even have to use your heater.

***

Why would a room in a rehab hospital not have a remote control for the tv?
When patients can climb up on the bed and stretch up to the power button on the tv itself, they are all better.

***

Lesson One on How To Give Confusing Directions And Make Me Lose Faith In Google Maps: Tell me the wrong name of the building, the wrong number, and make the street one that Google changes to something else every time I search for it.

***

Friend#1: Coming out tonight?
Me: I'll come out in November.
Friend#2: Let's go shopping!
Me: I'll go shopping in November.
My Crazy Side: We should go for a run.
Me: I'll go for a run in November Hahahaha no.

Lesson? (Almost) Everything in the world will be happening in November.

***

Lecturers: How's that assignment coming along?
Honour students: THEEESIIIIIIIISSSSSSS!

Lesson: Sucks to be an Honours lecturer in Semester Two.

More things no-one told me about Adelaide

Darwin doesn't have a winter. Okay, it has a Dry Season, where it - gasp! - sometimes gets below 20°C (68°F), but nothing compared to what I have suffered for the past eternity several months here in Adelaide.

Luckily, before it got too bad, I bought my favourite thing in the world right now: a heater.

Last night I was told very nicely, if a bit too subtly at first, that our electricity bill was likely to be a more than usual this ... month? quarter? whatever. I was all, 'I'm sure we can all put in a bit more rent this week, it'll be a small price to pay for being warm.'

Except: it's going to be an extra couple of hundred dollars. And also, I am the only one in the house with a heater. (Which, how the HELL did they SURVIVE?! I wasn't even here for the worst of it.) Who knew heat (HEAT!) was worth that much!

I am still on board with sharing the cost. After all, I am going to be SO MUCH BETTER than them at coping in summer. I bet I won't even to have my fan above 3. I am just that good.

Better To Give

When I think back to my high-school group and our present-giving habits, were we fricking insane? Like, we would spend $75 on a bracelet for someone's 17th birthday. Which was totally lovely of us, I'll admit, and it was always reciprocated, so that wasn't an issue, but really? A group of high-school students, two-thirds (or later, three-fifths) of which was unemployed, and we're dropping that kind of cash?

I think we need to have some rules about presents.

If someone "throws" a party, like in primary school, when you go to someone's house and there's fairy bread and pass-the-parcel, you definitely bring a present. Chances are great that the accompanying card will be the same as someone else's.

If someone invites forty people from the Hall to Hog's Breath (think Outback) and twenty people show up, I don't think you usually have to bring a present, when everyone is paying for themselves. (If the birthday girl/boy is paying, hell yes you bring a present.)

BUT, if the person having the dinner is a good friend, you should bring a present, even if it's just a token gift to mark the occasion. But then where is the line? How do you decide, 'oh you're good enough for a card but not a gift.' Or 'oh, I'm just here for the food and didn't even know it was your birthday, so no present for you.' Or do you always take a gift, no matter what? Always bring a card?

Maybe decide on the basis of 'I totally forgot until another girl from work messaged me, didn't have time to get a card, but happen to have a Body Shop gift pack lying around'? Works for me. This time.

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!

I'd have to pay attention to this if I wanted to be elected

I mentioned that the US election got brought up in class the other day, and I was not planning to say anything else, because good lord, there is enough being written about it as it is, but then you guys seemed interested, so here we go.

First of all, I am not really interested in politics. It's boring, as far as I'm concerned, and even acknowledging that elections ARE going to affect me, I can't muster up too much enthusiasm. (I did politics and law at uni before I came to Adelaide, so I know about the process of things, just not so much the current events.)

So I wouldn't be likely to speak up in any discussion regarding specific political things, although I do have lots of opinions on ISSUES. I do think it would be cool for a non-white male to be president.

We spent most of the time on Sarah Palin (and also, how the hell do you pronounce her surname?) and the internet gave me the impression she was going to be a liability, was not representing women (or not necessarily getting the female vote, y'know?), and that she needed to decide on a better work/family balance. I also got this impression (that she is scary) from someone in Australia who knows about politics, so my class isn't totally representative. They were all like 'yay young hot woman' and how she could bring youth or whatever to the campaign.

And then someone mentioned that this was really a race of the VPs because - and this I did NOT hear from the internet! - Obama was likely to be assassinated. And also the old guy (McCain? yeah, I'm very educated on this topic) was going to cark it. And here's where I wanted to say 'yes but that's why people won't vote for HIM, because they don't want HER,' but I didn't, because the internet hadn't told my class that it doesn't like Sarah Palin. And maybe it didn't even tell me that, I really have no idea.

That was all it was really, not a huge thing actually, but that class was annoying me anyway so I seized the opportunity to bitch about it.

If I was going to be President, I would do something about health care, ginormous college debts, and huuuge cars that use way too much petrol. And I'd stop fighting in stupid wars.

I would like to invite anyone in Australia/not the US who actually knows about this shit to leave a comment so that we can present an accurate view of our political take on all this. Cheers. And for those of you in the US, I'd be interested to see if I am actually picking up what the internet is putting down.

Mail Time Mission Accomplished

Remember when I was all, "I want to send you stuff!" And then you all were like, "Meh, ok." Well check it out...



...parcels and postcards!

I wrapped up the parcels, and promptly forgot what was in each of them, so if the explanatory note on the outside makes no sense, just send it to someone else and they'll send you yours.

Also, I was trying to write explanatory notes without giving away what was actually in the parcels. So if your note says something like "The mmhmm was from this shop that specialises in mmhmms" it was just me trying to be circumspect.

Which of course was all for nothing because you have to fill in extremely detailed customs forms, so if you could all not read those, that'd be great. Not that they will probably give much away because there is little to no chance that (a) I remembered what was in them, and (b) the forms ended up on the right parcels. Also, your gifts all equal $10, a totally made up number. Come on, Australia Post, don't you think if I've ticked "Gift" I should be able to skip the value part?

I also think it's highly unlikely that most of these will get to anyone at all. You guys have some freaking long-arse addresses. My house numbers have been 8 and 13. Yours are like 937582Aiix. And your postcodes are five numbers long! I can't handle that many numbers! Maybe you should check with your neighbours (by which I mean people in neighbouring zip codes) to see if they get your parcels.

And finally, I was shocked that they still sell stamps you have to LICK. EW. And my tongue TASTES LIKE STAMPS. And also, AUSTRALIA POST PROVIDES STAMP LICKER THINGS, DUMBARSE:



Whoo! Mail time!

Aaand ... Stop The Clock

It only took thatlong for the US election to come up as a topic in a class which has nothing whatsoever to do with it.

The class's opinion seemed to be different to my understanding of the situation, but I couldn't really say anything, because "I read it on a blog the other day" doesn't count as an adequate argument. Plus, I'd already used "On Blue Heelers last night" and "On Grey's Anatomy that one time" and thought that was quite enough off-topic pop culture referencing for one day.

Add to that the fact that the lecturer managed to insult blogs, bloggers, and dismiss my argument regarding "fuck's safe" versus "Christ's sake" all in the space of five minutes and I think it's clear I should just keep my mouth shut.

Due Date

I've finally started to freak out about my thesis. (My supervisor, if she reads this which I hope she doesn't: "It's about fricking time!")

I go back and forth between my hands literally shaking because there's no way this is going to be acceptable, typing, clicking Word Count obsessively, and watching later episodes of House which there is no way I am writing about but I can justify it to myself and that nagging feeling which says I should be working on my thesis that it's actually research.

Turns out a thesis isn't just an extended essay. It's like a real, grown-up, academic paper, which they are going to keep in the library. That is so embarrassing. I don't want to do this anymore. I could work in childcare forever. Totally. That'll work.

And then I eat half a can of Pringles and four not-crossed buns, feel like throwing up, write a post about it, and then I suck it up. Because that's what I do. Create a situation, and then act like I just walked in, evaluate what has to be done, and suck it up and do it. It might be done HD-well anymore, but it gets done. I hope.

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.

Mail Time Part One

I want to be my grandma. Not actually, but in one specific way: the present-giving way. She always always has presents posted on time. (She also writes - by hand - letters to her daughters in another state every week. I wish I could write letters.)

When we were young, Laura-My-Cousin and I always got the same thing as each other from her, identical apart from the fact that she'd get the pink version and I'd get the blue. Every time, except the year we got jewellery boxes. You know the ones with the little ballerina inside that plays some tinkly music when you wind it up and open it? We got those. I got the pink and she got the blue.

And? The one year she got blue, it was a totally ugly shade of blue. Meanwhile, I got the pretty pink one.

Also, I don't think we still get the same thing. If we do, LMC, you're getting earrings for your birthday. Oops, spoiler!

Now that I'm living in a different state to my boys, I have to be all on the ball with dates of things like birthdays and Fathers Day. Not only do I have to remember to buy a present, I have to buy it in time to mail it to Darwin. The pressure!

I am totally proud of the fact that I have managed to buy awesome tshirts and get them in the right size for the past couple of years. Only now, I'm afraid to buy any more in case I ruin my rep. Sorry guys, I'm sticking with my perfect record.

I am happy to say that my Fathers Day present was bought and posted and is currently in Darwin, waiting to be opened tomorrow morning. God, I'm good.

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.

600 / Delurk / Presents!

This is my 600th post! Woohoo!

I want to give you stuff! Yay you! (I annoyingly keep not winning Pay It Forward contests!)

But you have to delurk first! I have no more exclamation marks!

If you are one of my amazing readers (and I don't have any other kind), leave me a comment saying hi. Or something. Because it's my first post's 600th birthday.

If you also want some kind of present (which may be a postcard, or it may be a book or CD, or it may be an iPhone (it won't be an iPhone), or something else I haven't thought of yet), you need to email me meanwhilemissy AT gmail DOT com with an address. And I promise I won't stalk you with it, mostly because you live too far away. Everyone will get something, because I love you, and it will as awesome as I can make it.



So talk to me. Pretty please?

My Uni Is Haunted

Last week, we had the great Contrary Scooter Incident of 2008. At uni.

Today, the lecturer was going around the room writing everyone's names down because he still can't remember everyone's names even though there's only eight of us in the class and if he hasn't by now maybe it's not worth the effort.

When he finished, he realised that everyone was sitting in alphabetical order.

AND THEN, there was a spare seat because one girl was late. And it was in the right spot in the alphabet.

Fricking spooky, dude.

Upside Down

Sometimes I wonder if I should make this blog a little more Australian. You know, spread a few more mates and strewths about the place. And then I kick myself in the head, because dude, you are not the only Australian blogger in the whole world, no-one cares that you're Australian, you need to get over yourself.

On the other hand, there's no denying the fact that I am indeed Australian, and while there's no need to shout it from the rooftops all the damn time because that's just obnoxious, one post isn't going to hurt anybody. Plus, I am not averse to pimping out Australia as a holiday destination. Come visit! Bring ice-cream.*

*I don't want to get into the you have/we have thing here, because we already know where I stand on most of that, except to say: you guys (in America, that is, not the whole Northern Hemisphere) don't get proper Cadbury. It's very sad.

Let's just clear something up right away: the toilet flushes the other way. Yes, it's true. Also? I just discovered this myself, but your light switches are upside-down. Like up is on and down is off, but backwards. Weird.

And then, I wonder about fashion trends. Like right now it's winter here and summer there. But are the same kinds of things in fashion? (Answer: no. I didn't see any checks when I was there.) Or do our summer fashions follow your summer fashions, so we are consistently behind? Or do we all have different trends so that your Summer 08 clothes and our Summer 08 clothes will be different?

On a similar train of thought, day is night and night is day. This is totally confusing. Not to mention difficult when trying to organise IM planning sessions. It's nice that I go to sleep and wake up with 132 unread blog posts. It's not so nice that I have nothing to read in the (my) evenings. Plus, what if I text you and wake you up? Oops.

Oh! And then? I get so caught up in your lives, that I forget what's going on on this side of the planet. Like, the other day, we had a sudden rush on blue trackies, and I was like, "Oh, must be getting in some last-minute school shopping," which ... sure, except that kids here went back to school WEEKS AGO. Idiot. You all are confusing me.

Also confusing? We grew up thinking that if we dug through the middle of the earth, we'd get to China. Pfft, no. We'd get to like the middle of the ocean.

And also? I WANT A LONG WEEKEND.