All Frisbee, All The Time

All what?
Ultimate Frisbee. (Or just Ultimate, if you prefer.) Apparently it totally is a real sport. And it better be for all the effort I'm putting into it.

What effort?
I'm playing Social and League, and practicing my throws, and going on runs to get fit, and playing in tournaments.

That sounds fascinating. Please tell us more. *Rolls eyes*
Thanks, I will. So I started playing Social at the start of the year. You may remember I won Most Valuable Female? I was also playing Womens League then, although I did nothing particularly spectacular there.


I spectacularly stood around talking.

This semester I'm playing Social and Mixed League, and - check this - going to Mixed Nationals.

How can you be going to Nationals? You just started playing.
Good point. My argument is usually either (a) they were desperate for girls, (b) they think I'm good enough even though I'm clearly not, or (c) I am awesome, depending on my mood. My team kinda depresses me, honestly, because they make me realise how not good I am, but on the other hand, playing with and against awesome people makes you awesome, etc.

Also, frisbee is odd in that most people come to it from another sport. Basketball has helped me a lot with defence, field awareness, things like that, but is no help at all in reading the disc, throwing it, etc. But given that some people already have basic fitness and sportiness, they are able to get up to a reasonable standard fairly quickly.


That is a basketball catch if ever I saw one.

In related news, I predict that Tassie will be having a heatwave on the weekend of the 10th-12th of October.

Any other tournament news you'd like to share?
Why, yes. As you know I went to Keith, and lost my adidas drink bottle (devastated!), and was very hungover. I hope I have learned my lesson about drinking to excess before the tournament is over. (Clearly I didn't, to which the Smurf/Pillow Fight training after the AWI will attest.)

The what?
The Adelaide Women's Invitational. The AWI is an awesome tournament first held last weekend, which utilises a 5-2 women-men ratio (very unusual for mixed frisbee which is usually 4-3 or 5-2 guys' way). It happens at a good time, in that all the other comps around at the moment are mixed, and playing all (or even mostly) girls is totally different.


Me and the AWI tourament organiser on the post-tourney pub crawl. It's all fun and games until you have to get up and play frisbee the next day.

My team (MUD!) won Most Spirited, came second overall, and I won Most Valuable Beginner Female. (My prize was a pink fluffy tiara. How awesome is that!)

So basically you are the best of the all the crap people?
Well, yes, I believe I have said something like that to someone in an effort to make my "I won a pink tiara! I am so awesome!" sound a little more humble. However, I don't think I will continue to refer to it that way. For a start, beginner doesn't mean crap, it just means new. And secondly, that's kind of doing a disservice to the award itself, which (I imagine) is meant to recognise and encourage and promote newer players, and playing it down negatively doesn't help that at all. So therefore, thirdly, I am happy with the fact that I am one of a whole bunch of new girls who are working their way up the ranks of SA Women's Ultimate, but by no means do I think the tiara means I am the best. player/beginner. ever. Yet.

Yet, hey?
Yes, yet. I plan to be fricking awesome sometime very soon and I am struggling with the part where all that isn't happening now now now. Like, my catches in the end zone are getting great, and I have pictorial evidence to prove that ...



... but my throws are shithouse in games, although they're getting better in one-on-one practices.

Not to mention I'm in an interesting place between beginner and real player, where I don't want to be treated like I don't know anything, and would like to recognised as a legitimate player on a team, but on the other hand I still need pretty much everything explained to me and will do nothing if I don't have something specific to do, and I wait for other people to call things when it's really up to me now. Which is what I want! But not!

Ok, chill. So ... one-on-one training? What the hell kind of sport is this?
One where people are very very helpful. Plus there aren't any coaches that aren't players, and everyone knows everyone, and most people are totally eager to share what they know. Not to mention frisbee practice goes better with someone to throw with, so I have been recieving instruction from some awesome ultimate players, who get to ... practice catching bad throws? Everyone wins!


My effort at a forehand.

Everyone knows everyone? Like, actually?
Yeah pretty much. Frisbee is a very social sport, played by a fairly small and tight-knit community, and one which places a high emphasis on good spirit. This leads to more hanging around watching and after games, which leads to ... people having too much time on their hands, playing Fantasy Ultimate, where you pick a positive (person who if they do good you get points) and a negative (who you want to do bad so you get points), lots of heckling and crap from the sidelines, which is all in good fun but can be confusing to play to, as your sideline players are a totally valuable asset and people playing fantasy, not so much. But yes, good spirit, good friends, everyone knows everyone. Yay ultimate!



But you can't actually know everyone, can you?
Unlike basketball, where I played with roughly the same group of girls for ten years straight, frisbee teams change way more often, meaning you play with a lot of different people fairly often. Thus far, I've played on this many different teams: Red Hot Go, Fury-ess, Blue-nami, Try Sarah's Tops, Rasczak's Roughnecks, MUD, Donna Hay and the Cupcakes, and Pillow Fight (and I'm playing for 7 Wonders this week).

So, you don't have a life anymore, basically?
That is it, essentially, yes. The cult that is ultimate has taken over my life, I have a bajillion page list of things I want to learn or get better at, and I really, really want a frisbee shirt with my name on the back. Then I can totally retire. Until then, all ultimate, all the time.

Error Patrol

Why, Sea Patrol? Seriously.

I have just finished watching Season 3 of Sea Patrol, and I'll tell you what, it annoyed me.

One. Sometime last season, I realised that the reason they are all "Charlie-eight-two" and "X-ray-eight-two" all the time is because their boat's number is - ready? - 82. I was so proud of myself for figuring that out, and it only took me two seasons to do it. Hence, them including the 82 on a shot of a different patrol boat was just insulting. Here's a five minute lesson in photoshop: go crazy.

Second. A massive (well, for one episode) storyline involved the acquisition of a tattoo. You would not believe how much of this episode was devoted to a tattoo. The very next episode? Shirtless sailor, no tattoo. Ok, we'll call this one even.

C. And this is the worst one. The one I waited all season for. Early on, the Nav gets a goldfish from her fiancee who (spoiler!) dies. She soon notices he (the fish) is getting fat. Good little tv-watcher that I am, I can see this shit coming a mile away - he is not a she, and she is totally having the dead fiancee's babies. Hints of the "gosh he looks a bit off-colour" nature continue to be dropped throughout the season, and I am all over it. I bet I know what she names the first baby fish! And here we are, season finale, drumroll please, and she ... lets the fish go.

WHAT. THE. HELL.

Are you fricking kidding me, Sea Patrol?

I really think this could be a great show. I appreciate all the sailor boys running around both shirtless and in uniform promotion of Aussie tv talent, and I think you should keep up the good work. But please, for my sanity, get a fish pregnancy continuity editor. Please.

Cake and Resolutions

Tuesday was my birthday. Many people have cake on their birthday. This year my cake consumption has been off the charts.

Friday: Order cakes to take to work. Buy 1/4 blueberry cheesecake to eat, just cos.
Tuesday: Pancakes for breakfast. A massive slice of Cheesecake Shop Treasure Cake for lunch. More Treasure Cake for dessert.
Wednesday: Passionfruit Cheesecake for lunch. A Vili's matchstick for an after-frisbee snack.
Friday: Chocolate and sprinkles-covered apple for lunch, as I was saving room for my Hog's Breath steak, where I also downed a mudslide. And for dessert, home-made banana cake.
Saturday: More Treasure Cake for breakfast. And afternoon tea.

I am currently in possession of about a quarter of Treasure Cake, a few slices of passionfruit cheesecake, and two and a half banana cakes.

LUCKY I EXERCISE...


Gratuitous frisbee photo, from the Keith Calippo Classic, my first tourament. Am hungover.

I am starting a new exercise plan, as I have discovered I am totally not league fit, and also I have been invited to play mixed nats (as in Nationals!). And you know, the cake thing. It will involve frisbee, running, skipping, weights, crunches, lunges, and, as ever, some kind of reward chart. Maybe the reward will be cake!

Also, randomly, I have made a birthday resolution, to basically be nicer and happier. That means no sentances starting with "S/he is such a ..." as I have decided that sentances like that rarely finish well. Also I will stop saying I "only" work at A Sports Store and A Bookshop, and become invested in them. Or I will get a job somewhere I will be invested.

That took a bit of a different turn there, but look! Cake!


Mmm. Cheesecake Shop Treasure Cake. Chocolate mud cake with custard-filled profiteroles. And much chocolate.

What's My Age Again?

Today is my birthday and I am wishing for summer on my birthday candles.

I'm also wishing for these things, or a time machine so they could be around when I would be age-appropriate for them.



Heelys.
Last year Montana and I heelyed around on Christmas Eve. I would love to wear them to work but alas, we don't sell them in my size.



Ripstik.
When I went up to Darwin for skywalker's birthday this year, my neighbourhood kids (all grown up since I've been away!) let me have a go on theirs. I was pretty bad at it, but I could be awesome with a bit of practice!



Kids' Jeep.
How awesome is that?! It fully goes, none of this pedaling or push along like I had to do with my fire engine. Uphill, in the snow, both ways.



Trampoline.
The obsession continues.

What was your best birthday present ever? What did you always wish for?

Meet Nepture. Or maybe Sebastian. Or Eric.

This post is for skywalker, who I'm pretty sure is thisclose to flying down here and stabbing me with my own unicorn if I don't get these pictures up rightnow.

A. For Christmas last year, skywalker and I both got little magnet men, which provided us much entertainment on our Great Ocean Road Trip, as a campervan is basically all metal, and magnet men and metal go together like, um, unicorns and mermaids. (This may or may not make sense in a paragraph or so.)

I had the brilliant idea of taking photos of our little men and sending them as postcards, going back and forward until someone ran out of awesome poses. As it turns out, I was the only one to have any awesome, as I'm still waiting for the return postcard.


Abs of steel, or some kind of lightweight metal alloy I'd imagine.

B. When my awesome brother went on his awesome Odyssey trip, he not only bought me a beautiful silver ring that I wear every day, he also went to "a glass place" (I'm pretty sure that was the full and complete description I got) and bought me ...



... Neptune! I'm pretty sure his name is Neptune. However, it may be Sebastian or even Eric. Follow this awesome logic: Unicorns are big in Veronica Mars. Veronica Mars lives in Neptune. Neptune was king of the sea in The Little Mermaid (and, I'm sure, other things like mythology and shit) which featured Sebastian and Eric. It makes perfect sense, really. What do you think his name is?

A+B. Nepbasric appears somewhat more aggressive than I had intended, as Magneto was supposed to be gently patting him on the head, but I guess he took offense at that or whatever, lesson learned.

Not even going and can't find another topic

Whoo BlogHer!

Apparently it's that time again, and to say it's snuck up on me actually means a lot when you consider how religiously I counted down to it last year. Of course, that may have been because I was going then, and I'm not now, so ... yeah.

Here are my tips: Talk to people. Have fun. Take photos.

People will talk to you. You will talk to people and they will talk back to you. You will not talk to everyone. You will have an awesome time. You will want to remember it.

If you're struggling for what to say, try these: I love your shoes. Hi, I'm [whoever] which leads to them saying hi back. What was your favourite session? Do you have a card wow what an interesting blog name / picture / tagline. Where are you from which leads to wow I have a relative / never been / always wanted to go there.

I kind of hate the question 'What is your blog about?' although you should have an answer ready. How about 'What is your favourite post you've ever written?' which might seem kind of weird but I think it will lead to more discussion.

And also you can cover anything you do/say with 'I'm asking everyone this' which totally legitimises anything, cos it's a THING you're DOING. Like, for reals.

Odyssey Updates

If you're like my dad and didn't realise that the Odyssey update page was in fact being continually updated, maybe you'd like to check it out.

There was a little swine flu scare moment there but (SPOILER!) everyone is fine and the trip continues.

Skywalker will arrive in Adelaide on Monday and I get him Wednesday morning. (I have joint custody with our grandma while he's here.) Things we are planning: ice-skating, the Beach House, Aussie Pizza, ultimate frisbee, DVD marathons, and driving in my car.

Adelaide Odyssey 09: Wicked.

Medal Heroes

When I played junior basketball, our end of year presentations were fairly predictable. Myself, Flick, and Bee were the ones who showed for every training and every game. We knew we were likely to get trophies, the only variable was for what. I have every variety of Coaches Award; I was rarely if ever the best player on the team but I was Most Consistent, Best Team Player, etc.

I had no presumptions of getting a medal at the Social Frisbee grand final last night. (If anything, I would have bet on Most Improved or Best New Player for League.) I also didn't care, which is unusual for me. I knew I wasn't Most Spirited and there are about a billion better players than me out there. And yet somehow ...

2009 Semester One Female MVP For Flinders University Ultimate Frisbee Social League.

I am very honoured, and pretty sure I need to play a shitload better next season to earn it.

The Odyssey

At my school (which is now my brother's school) the Year 11s do a trip down the east coast. This trip, called the Odyssey, flies them from Darwin to somewhere on the north-east of the country (I went to Cairns, skywalker went to Brisbane) then busses them all the way down the east coast, visiting theme parks, national monuments, and (for most, for the first time) SNOW.

Skywalker left yesterday and will be travelling for two weeks before finishing the Odyssey in Melbourne and flying to Adelaide to visit me. This will be the update page for his adventures.

Mon 15, 11:03am: Odyssey!
(Me: Whoo dude have an awesome time and keep me updated)
Mon 15, 11:51am: Kk. C u in 2 weeks.

Mon 15, 6:36pm: Just got my luggage from brisbane.
(Me: Cool i just watched my breath at frisbee)

Thurs 18, 5:39pm: *sigh* i have managed to lose my Tower of Terror photo already... :(

Fri 19, 1:37pm: We're in SYD!
(Me: Have an awesome time and don't fall off the bridge. How's it going?)
Fri 19, 6:35pm: Lol, kk. Cold but awesome. Going to the rugby atm

Mon 22, 9:55am: This is insane. We have been driving for like 1 1/2 hours and we are still in syd

(Me, Mon night: I won female MVP!)
Tues 23, 3:09am: Wooo! Gratz.
Tues 23, 7:10am: It is now -2...
Tues 23, 9:48am: Snow is fun!!

Wed 24, 12:47pm: Btw may not be coming to Adelaide
(Me: Whaaaaaaaat?)
Wed 24, 1:58pm: 2 kids with flu maybe swine flu, getting tested. Whole bus could be quarrantined
(Me: Where are you now? You just chillin on the bus?)
Wed 24, 1:13pm: Yeah in ACT. Prob not gonna get to origin.
(Me: If ur quarrantined will you make up the time? Get to melb late?)
Wed 24, 1:43pm: Melb in 2 or 4 days. We are going to origin. Ppl who have been in the same groups as sickies will be tested tomorrow. Its unlikely that it is swine flu. If it was we would all be sick by now.
(Me: Kk. Also there will be frisbee training and possibly pick up game you can come to if ur here on a monday)
Wed 24, 1:56pm: Yes!!!!

Wed 24, 6:41pm: Im at origin, straight behind the goals, near the QLD contingent
Wed 24, 8:26pm: 6-18, QLD up
(Me: Nice and cold?)
Wed 24, 8:28pm: Yes but it isnt too bad
Wed 24, 8:28pm: Nsw just scored
Wed 24, 9:56pm: QLD WIN!!!

Thurs 25, 7:51am: 4 ppl confirmed as flu *might* be swine flu
(Me: When do you find out?)
Thurs 25, 5:13pm: Tomorrow at the latest
(Me: Cool. What did they let you do today?)
Thurs 25, 5:20pm: War memorial, ANZAC parade, AIS, aust museum, art gallery and had a look at the embassies
(Me: Oh cool. So they're letting you do stuff. Any sniffles?)
Thurs 25, 6:08pm: Yeah but i had them the whole trip. They are from the cold
(Me: Good stick with that story. And if all the ais athletes come down with it...!)
Thurs 25, 6:11pm: Lol yeah

Fri 26, 6:06pm: There is no swine flu, we are all ok

Sat 27, 4:30pm: In in wicked atm, @ interval
(Me: Jealous. Is it awesome?)
Sat 27, 5:15pm: It was wicked

Sun 28, 2:32pm: My feet are sore...And chelsea has blisters
(Me: Thanks for the update. You at the footy atm?)
Sun 28, 2:36pm: Nah he made it non compulsesy so i didn't go
(Me: Dude i'm at work i could've seen you on tv! What are you doing instead?)
Sun 28, 2:38pm: Playing cars with chel and emma
(Me: That's the most exciting thing you could find to do in melb?)
Sun 28, 2:40pm: Yeah Lol Nah our feet are sore
(Me: Go sit on a tram! What time is your flight tomorrow? Do you have to wait after the others come back? Anyone else coming?)
Sun 28, 2:48pm: I cant be bothered with the tram, in ou use but i will check, i think i will be about the same time, no one else
(Me: Cool. call gma before you leave so she picks you up. And call me when you're at hers and we can make a plan)
Sun 28, 2:50pm: Kk

(Me: Hey girlies. My bro is down from darwin and we're going iceskating his last night. We'd love you to join us, fri 3 7:30 til 11pm. Cost is $17. Hope to see you soon)
Sun 28, 5:32pm: Lol kk
(Me: Should be a good night)
Sun 28, 5:33pm: Hell yeah, tell me who else says yes

Mon 29, 9:11pm: I'm here!

Isn't it all just fascinating? I'm riveted. Also, I wish I had some pics of my trip to show you. I took five rolls of pre-digital film. That doesn't seem like so many photos now, but it was hells expensive to develop.

The weekly thing that made me roll me eyes before I realised it was the most Awesome Thing Ever

It's currently like -853905 degrees here at the moment, so I've been looking for a new winter jacket. For some bizarre reason, like I cannot even fathom what the designers were thinking, almost none of the jackets I've found and liked include a hood. Seriously, why?

This is where this product comes in:



I know what it looks like, and yes, it is actually a beanie attached to a scarf, but you know what, kooky head-slash-neckwear designers? You have achieved what, for some reason, the crackheads over in jackets have not been able to.

ETA: And also? It's gloves!

Plans Just Aren't What They Used To Be

I think I'm going to blame mobile phones for this one.

In the old days, you would make a plan, sometimes weeks or months in advance, and you would have the relevant details (when, where, for how long, etc) way beforehand and set in stone. This was because you didn't have a mobile that you could use to text someone two minutes before you were supposed to meet them, telling them you all of a sudden weren't coming.

Mobiles have enabled us to call our parents for a ride or our mates for a spur of the moment ice cream mission, but they have also encouraged us to be poorly planned and inconsiderate of other people and prior plans.

Here's an idea, youth of today: make a plan, stick to it. Want to go to dinner? Let's decide to go to dinner! And let's actually go to dinner, when and where we said we would.

Sporting Heroes

I would like to offer two shout-outs to the sporting heroes of today. (As in, like, actually this day today, not as in today this vague region of time.)

The first one is to myself, who stayed for frisbee training, even though we don't have any more League games, and even though it was only 12 degrees and pelting down with rain (a talent I didn't know Adelaide possessed) (the decent rain part, not the cold part) (Adelaide is excellent at doing cold, a fact I tried to block out but which keeps being forced back to me), and even though hail was forecast, and even though I dropped every catch in the Social game prior to training except for the really hard one against like three boys. High five to me!

The second one goes out to my brother, skywalker, whose basketball team won their preliminary final tonight, against probably all predictions except mine, and did it fairly impressively if he did say so himself, 65-36. Nice work, boys, now kick arse in the grand final!

Any other sporting heroes out there today?

Helpful Heroes

Yesterday in the car park at work, we were trying to put my new headlight globe in, and having minimal success, when a nice trolley boy came over and offered his assistance. In five minutes it was all done, and he wandered off back to his trolleys.

Today at work I put through an adidas Originals t-shirt for a young girl and her friend. We were all shocked when it came up at $11.99 and she was justifiably delighted. Unfortunately, we didn't have any left in my size, but wait, maybe the Darwin store does. It does! And now my dad will pick one up for me and a friend from work, and he will send it down to us out of the kindness of his heart.

He doesn't know this yet, but it will happen. Hey dad, I'll call you in a few, ok? We'll chat.

First Car

Today I officially took possession of my first car. I have a feeling my car's name may be Jack or perhaps Jackie but this is yet to be established.

If anyone in the Adelaide/SA area needs a ride, I am totally up for it! Wanna go get dinner? I'll drive! Need me to pick you up after a big night out? I'm there. I estimate this will last approximately a week, or until I realise that a car, unlike a scooter, does not in fact cost five dollars to fill up.

Phrasebook-Writing Heroes

Cathy from Work (who I'm sure I gave some cleverly-disguised nickname once upon a time, which I now can't remember, so Cathy it is) is going to Europe later in the year, and is naturally very excited about all this. Considering I work in a bookshop which is currently giving away free copies of a French phrasebook, the ideal going-away pumping-up tool seemed obvious.

It was hilarious to read what the writers felt were necessary phrases to be able to say should one find themselves in a foreign country.

Condoms, pregnancy tests, drag queens, and "discos" (hee) all made an appearance, but my favourite came a the end of page filled with "Do you come here often?" "Will you walk me home?" "I like you" "Let's make love" "Do you like this?" Yes, that is nice" "No, stop!"-type phrases.

"Never mind, I'll do it myself."

That is one self-sufficient traveller right there.

Ultimate Heroes

Unfortunately lost our Ultimate grand final, but my cleats did awesomely, and I got a catch and an assist. Yay Ultimate!

Heroes Of The Roads

Today at work my Crazy Manager was all, "I hope my tire isn't flat when I go home" and "It was on a lean" and "I noticed when I went to get petrol last night." Dude, last night? You went to get petrol, your car was on a lean, and you didn't feel the need to pump up your tires?

Turns out, she'd never done it before, and since my hero of a father forced me to learn how to pump up and change car tires the second I got my Ls, I could be the hero of modern women everyone by spreading the independence a little and teaching her how.

(Not to mention she got to be my hero by driving me home instead of me having to catch the bus then walk from Marion in the cold and the rain and the dark.)

Then on the way home we were stopped at some lights when we saw a car heroically not run over an old man, and cause a three-car rear-ending for his trouble.

PS: Today I bought a car and I will get it on Friday. Emma-From-Work (who is selling her car to me) is my hero!

NaBloPoMo June: Heroes

I don't even remember how to - oh! So you press these little things here with the letters on them on and - hey! Words on the screen! That's just amazing.

Day One of NaBloPoMo for June 2009. (This should in no way indicate to you that there will be any subsequent days of NaBloPoMo for June 2009 or indeed any other month.) The theme is "Heroes" and your time starts ... now.

Heroes is an awesome tv show. At least it was. I'm not so sure now but I think it still might be. The guys are still hot, so that's cool. Season One was completely brilliant, and at the time it was one of the best shows on tv. Save the cheerleader, save the world. The show had a focus, the characters had goals, and the massive cast was, for the most part, awesome.

Season Two, not so much, and in fact I think I might have blocked most of it out as not much is springing to mind. I think there were some good ideas that didn't really come off and some bad (read: boring) plots that went on faaar too long.

And Season Three. Some flashes of the old Heroes I thought. (The parking garage in the ice was CLASSIC.) Claire's hair? Dude, ew. The ending? Weak, guys. Be man enough to actually kill someone if you're going to, as we all know it's not going to stick.

I have high hopes for Season Four, but Heroes, you better get your act together. A clearly defined mission, a little continuity, make rules for your mythology and stick to them, and I'd totally appreciate it. Cos I love you.

Housemate Irritations

Blah blah love my housemates.

Here is a list of some of the little annoyances we're currently facing in the GirlHouse. I'll let you decide who is the perpetrator of which particular crime.

Making too many plans.
Not making enough plans.
Not sticking to plans.
Sticking too rigidly to plans.
Being late.
Nagging about being late.
Doing too many chores.
Not doing enough chores.
Nagging about doing chores.
Taking the pegs off the line.
Leaving the pegs on the line.
Putting things away.
Not putting things away.
Not being home enough.
Complaining about not being home enough.
Teasing about being old.
Complaining about being old.
Complaining about young people.
Needing rides.
Refusing rides.
Insisting on rides.
Using up internet download for the month within a week.

Okay, I guess that last one wasn't very cleverly disguised. That was me, I admit it!

Tales From After School Care

I attended After School Care almost every day of my primary school life. In Year 7 I rebelled a little and either rode my bike home, caught the bus, or delayed leaving my classroom long enough to make it slightly annoying to (I would imagine) my teacher, the ASC staff, and my (fee-paying) parents. But before then I was a complete regular.

***

Early on, my mum instituted a policy of me changing out of my school uniform as soon as possible after having my name marked off. This was embarrassing to me for three reasons, although the second I probably couldn’t have articulated for most of the time the policy was in force. (Again, later on I fought it, and since by that time we were content to chill instead of running around outside, it was allowed.) The first was that no-one else had to change. Everyone else’s parents were content for them to ruin their uniforms in the dust and the dirt. Secondly, the clothes I had to change into were daggy. They were play clothes and as such were not required (or so my mum thought) to possess any sort of fashionable qualities whatsoever. And thirdly … I had to run across one courtyard or the other and go to the toilets to get changed.

Now this might not seem so bad. The ASC room was slap in the middle of the school, with the Trannies*, 1s and 2s on one side, and the Year 3s and above on the other. I, for some reason, developed a massive fear of the toilets, and the upper school one in particular. No way would I go there, and naturally, for some time I didn’t have to. The junior one was bad enough, and I could cope, if I rushed and kept my time in there to the absolute minimum. But one day (I think when I was still in Year 2, so … why? I was still a little kid and should have been allowed to use the little kids’ toilet, am I right?) the boss of the After School Care laid down the law to me: “Why are you going to that one? You can use the big kids’ toilets from now on.” And that was it. I had to face the ghost (I think it was a ghost) of the upper school toilets every afternoon, until I either forgot about it or stopped changing out of my uniform, and I really couldn’t tell you which came first.

*Transition. The grade before One and after Preschool.

***

Two of the main games I remember from ASC were Poison Ball Against The Wall and Brandy. Poison Ball was from the era when we had young and energetic caregivers, who were quite happy to stand at the front of the stage and pelt us with balls until we’d all been hit, at which time we’d all come in again. I think the appeal was that we didn’t really have to do any work ourselves. Brandy, on the other had the attraction of being banned at school. No one had ever said it was banned outside of school hours though, and we took advantage. (Damn those adults getting wise to us, though.) Brandy – which it has only lately occurred to me may have actually started out named Brandings – is where you all run around a specified space, such as the big courtyard, and try to peg a tennis ball at your friends. Yes, it hurts.

***

As we got a bit older, as I mentioned, we settled down to indoor activities a bit. When I was in Year 6, my best ASC mate Patricia and I would rush (without appearing to rush – too cool for school, man) to the games cupboard after roll call to claim Monopoly for ourselves and whatever younger kids we felt like ripping off that day. This was freaking cutthroat finance, dude, and you had to be quick. We were not above distracting our competitors in order to let someone else roll the dice hurriedly to end the turn – and avoid paying what were often massive rent payments. We were also quite the little benefactresses, and would draw the attention of the really needy to a rent they may have been about to miss collecting. After all, you can’t beat up little kids if none of them come to play. We sound terrible, but I believe a lot of fun was had – and not just by us – and hey, at least we were practicing our maths skills.

Water Play

I'm back from Darwin now, in freezing cold Adelaide. Bleh. My fingers are in the first stages of frostbite (not really, because we have our gas heater on here in the study, a thing we never used the entire time it was a BoyHouse, and ... why, exactly?) so we're just going to focus on the thing that was my main focus while I was up there: water.



My hostel had a pool (I stayed at a backpackers in the city, it was fun and cheap) and I spent some time there just chillaxing. The new-look Leanyer Water Park now has a bucket AND waterslides, and the brand new (and not just to me) Wave Pool opened the Saturday I was there.



Now, Adelaide has waterslides, but they are at the Beach House at the Bay and they cost, a fair bit. Darwin water slides? Free. Niiice.



Adelaide does not have a wave pool, and I'm not really sure how many there are in Australia. The only one I've ever been to was at Mountain Creek Water Park while I was at summer camp (which, it turns out, is in New Jersey. Did I know I'd been to New Jersey?). Darwin's wave pool? Eight bucks for a full day. I am certain you will not find a wave pool that cheap in many other places. (Although I just looked up Mountain Creek's prices, and it's possible I overestimated how much these places would charge. Hmm.)



Good work, NT Government. We do love our water up there.

'In Darwin' Is The New 'In Bed'

I have been keeping a massive secret from you all for some time now, for which I am very sorry, but it was necessary, as telling you would have meant telling certain other people, from whom I was on purpose keeping the secret. Annnyway.

Today is my brother's 16th birthday, and on this very special occasion, I am IN DARWIN! FOR A WHOLE WEEK! (Let's just pretend it is for his birthday and not due to the fact that I could see my breath in the air in Adelaide this week.) And let me tell you, it is lucky I arrived at all.

Wednesday day I had to work, which was fine. Money is good is my current philosophy. Wednesday evening I was invited to play frisbee. League frisbee. Like, awesome player's frisbee. That was very fun, and my white cleats are no longer white (and neither was my entire left side, thanks mud), so clearly I am a real player now.

(Also: When it is too cold to feel the fact that your finger is so injured it's bruised purple and black, it's too fricking cold.)

Then I had to get ready mega quickly, and go to the airport. So ... yeah. Turns out we are entirely too casual about catching planes these days, to the point where we arrive at the airport when the plane is boarding. Remember when Amalah had some flight mix-up and they were all very sympathetic? Apparently that only happens to internet rockstars. I am very very lucky they let me on the plane at all, even if they wouldn't let me check a bag.

::Insert picture of me flinging underwear etc all over the floor of the airport, trying to stuff my worldly belongings into three small handbags, and making tough decisions such as Brother's Present vs Hairbrush.::

In conclusion, I am in Darwin, it is crazy hot, and my baby brother is now SIXTEEN YEARS OLD. How does that even happen?

You Heard It Here First

(Obligatory "I suck at blogging these days for no reason really, so sorry about that" comment.)

My aunt is a high school teacher. One day we were talking on the phone and she mentioned a new book she'd heard of, about a boy who was a wizard. "It might be a bit young for you though," she said. "Uh, yeah," I thought. A year later I had read the first three Harry Potter books and was standing in line to buy the fourth.

The last song I downloaded was Fall Out Boy's 'America's Suitehearts.' A year ago I had exactly zero of their songs. Now I have at least six. I first heard of the band on One Tree Hill (which I first got from Carla) probably three years ago.

When I was in year eight my friend Hel asked me if I'd heard of Britney Spears. "Um, maybe? It sounds kinda familiar," I said, lying, wondering who the fuck Britney Spears was. '...Baby One More Time' was the first single I ever bought, and over ten years later I am still listening to Britney.

Where do you hear things first?

Easter Is For Eggs

When did Easter become about presents? Seriously, people, there are rules to be followed here. Show some respect for tradition.

Christmas is presents - one big one and lots of little ones. Birthday is presents and cake. Summer is icy poles. Winter is soup and crumpets. Adelaide is trams. San Francisco is fog. You know?

Easter is eggs. Chocolate. Eating badly.

If you have a problem with the amount of chocolate consumed at this time of year, (a) buy less chocolate, or (b) spread it out. I've had years where I still had Easter chocolate left months later.

Easter is not presents. Easter is for eggs.

Score!

Me, on the way to Ultimate Frisbee: I have a good feeling about this. We are going to be awesome. My goal is to be that person who catches the frisbee and gets a point.
B Myles: You have to visualise it. See yourself scoring.
Me: Oops, in my head I dropped it. It was a little embarrassing.
B Myles: NO! I will visualise it. You didn't drop it this time.

Me, in the actual game: *drops the frisbee*
Me: Oops. Damn visualisation!

Me, later in the actual game: *gets passed the ball frisbee. catches it, for a change*
Other person: Pass it to me!!!
Other other person: Uh, she's in [the goal square].
Everyone: Oh yeah, so she is. Good work.
Me: WHOOOOOHOOO!!! *does the dorkiest victory dance ever*

So yeah, I had an amazing game. (Me and B Myles both got heaps better this week. Ask her to tell you about her brilliant diving catch.) I got another goal later, and I also caught this hell hard pass and did a little pass off of that to a guy who scored. So two points, one assist? That's pretty frickin' awesome. I am totally going to be an Ultimate Frisbee star. It is clearly my calling.

Ultimate!

I just played my first game of Ultimate Frisbee. Wikipedia defines it as "a limited-contact team sport played with a 175 gram flying disc." I call it bloody hard work and also heaps of fun!

B Myles decided we should play a sport together as housemates. Oh sure, no worries. I'm thinking, like, social netball or even soccer or something. Nope, she comes home with Ultimate Frisbee. Hhannahh piked out on us, so it was just me and B Myles - and the rest of our new team.

We are ... very bad. The cutting and leading I know how to do from basketball, so that wasn't too bad. The throwing to someone (and not to the ground), and the catching, and the fitness, my god the fitness, all need some work. But it was very fun! And positive! And sportsmanlike.

There aren't any referees, we spent more time deciding on a cheer to do than on tactics, and everyone is totally upbeat. All the time. Basically, if the hippies invented a sport, this would be it.

I expect to be back tomorrow to whinge about how sore I am.

"He just broke a few legs"

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

***

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

***

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

***

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

Public Service Announcement

If you get the message

ANIWZCS2 service launcher has encountered a problem and needs to close

and when you try to repair your internet connection you are told

Windows could not finish repairing the problem because the following action could not be completed: renewing your IP address

and you are running a D-Link wireless usb thingie

then you do not need to spend hours on hold and/or talking to tech help desk guys, and you do not need to do the recommended but only on the downlow system restore, and you do not need to reinstall your operating system, all you need to do is

in the options for setting up your D-Link device, click on use the D-Link connection thingie instead of letting Windows do it.

You're welcome.

Girlhouse

We currently have no internet at home, due to the suckiness of internet "service" "providers" around here, so I would like to leave you with these three snapshots of life in our girlhouse:

Scene One: I am straightening my hair, watching One Tree Hill. Housemate Hannah* knocks and comes in and plugs in her hair dryer and asks if she can borrow my mascara and can I curl her hair. Girlhouse!

Scene Two: The electrician has arrived, and I have let him in to our house and pointed out the things he (of course) needs to fix, including my bedroom light. I knock on Housemate Hannah's door, say "Can I sleep with you?" and crawl into bed with her for a good hour while Electrician Dave does his thing. Girlhouse!

Scene Three: B Myles and I decide on the spur of the moment to go out. We spend much time on outfits and shoes. B Myles borrows my nail polish. We go out and get very drunk and dance all night. The convenience of having a party buddy right there in the girlhouse!

I love girlhouse.

*This is what I've been calling her to differentiate between the Hannah Montana I have at work, and the Uni Hannah that B Myles went out and made friends with even AFTER I told her about the abundance of Hannah's we already had. I think I've referred to Housemate Hannah as HaMad here in the past. Is this confusing?

What If Our Parents Had Blogs?

What would it have been like if our parents had blogs, if we could go back and read them now?

Did my mum like being pregnant with me? Would she have written my birth story? Was I a good sleeper or eater? Would she have turned to the internet for help when I got a huge rash all over my back and nothing would shut me up? Would the internet have caned my dad for that time I fell, or sent comforting emails about how they let their kids fall off the bed? I remember a meeting about putting me up to a combined 1/2 class when I was in Grade One. I didn't change classes. Did my parents agonize over that decision, and would the internet have helped them make it? When we had fish and chips I would always line my chips up in height order and eat them in order. Would some helpful internet reader have commented some kind of diagnosis based on this quirk? Would my parents have talked about the eight-year age gap between my brother and I with the internet? Would they have pulled back as we got older or would the teenage years have been just as blog-worthy? Would their relationship, or our relationship with them, have changed if what they wrote was being read?

We can hear the stories now all we want, but blogs definitely provide a unique, on the spot, emotional record of events. And I think it would be fascinating to read.

What Are You Making?

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

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

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

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

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

Jumping Jumping

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

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

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

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



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



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

You Had A Bad Day

Personally, I like 09 was feeling a bit left out. Everyone was complaining about how 2008 was the Year of Suck, and he got jealous, and threw a fit, and was all like, "You think that was bad? You ain't seen nothing, bitches."

And then he threw a virus at my computer, loss of signal at my internet, and fucking THIEVES at my SCOOTER. People are fuckers. That is all.

2009, you're a badass. We get it. Now can we just please try to get along?

Delurk

Guess what?! It's Delurking Day!

But Missy, I thought that was ages ago, like when you were on the Great Ocean Road Trip, or meeting your future husband while entertaining your family, or when your computer shat itself. You know, you totally missed it.

Nope. Actually, it just seems like that because ... of the time difference! Yeah, it's an upsidedown thing. I'm actually right on schedule here.



This is also a majorly important Delurking Day. In my new clean-slate state, I have deleted a shitload of blogs with the aim of giving the ones that are left some VIP treatment. And you all are totally important, right?

So if you read this blog (when there's actually something new to read, I know) leave me a comment and let me know. Otherwise I may have in a delete-button seizure accidentally deleted your blog. But I will absolutely be adding you back!

If you need a topic to start you off, how about telling me the most essential song ever so I can add it to my now non-existent music collection. Or you can tell me about how it's totally colder where you are.

Take A Moment

Well. That was certainly an experience. My computer did indeed crash, about as hard and as far as it's possible to do. For some unexplained (which I'm not too thrilled about) reason, the hard drive was/became/got corrupted (which of you was teaching my precious computer bad words?) and consequently, I lost everything except the little voice that was left there to tell me nothing was there.

I now have my computer back, restored to its factory condition. Except for several programs that were installed for me after I bought it and before I took it home, and the fact that the battery no longer holds its charge, and the way that it manages to heat up to a bajillion degrees and that's not even because we're having a ginormous heat wave and just had the third hottest day EVER.

I've spent the day downloading essential programs, continually reassuring my computer that although it may be correct in supposing Norton 2005 is slightly out of date, we will soldier on regardless, and enjoying/cursing out all the new versions of things.

Life without a computer was odd - like, as if we'd have a physical train timetable lying around (especially since the trains are not currently running anywhere near schedule due to their likelihood of falling off the tracks into the ocean) - but clearly you all kept on with life as normal, as evidenced by the 1374 new posts I have to read. Good one, guys.

I am sad that I have lost over three years worth of photos (although some are still on Facebook and Flickr) and a bajillion songs worth of music (although, in a strange psychic experience, I loaded the best ones onto Skywalker's PSP just before everything went to crap), but starting over has a nice cleanliness to it.

Feel free to update me in the comments on everything I've missed out this past week or so.

I could be wrong but I think I'm screwed

Oh crap.

Meet My New Imaginary Husband*

*He is imaginary in the sense that he is not my husband, nor does he even know my name (although he does know I exist), and not in the sense that he is not a real person. I just thought I'd clarify that.

Anyway, on the really hot day that we had, my dad and brother and I went ice-skating. As did many many other people, including a group from a school holiday program.

As skywalker (my brother) and I were skating around the big rink, I naturally took a little survey and determined the hottest guy in the place. (Actually, he was the second-hottest, but the first-hottest was eliminated due to the fact that he was probably 15 and was skating a bit recklessly considering the abundance of kids under ten on the ice.) My new boyfriend and I totally had a moment when some little kid cut us both off simultaneously even though we weren't really skating anywhere close to each other - and certainly not when I was in a good position to check out his arse - and we both did that kind of 'Why don't YOU go, crazy kid' gesture at him. We connected.

Quick cut to me on the little rink, helping dad out, as we got to a part of the railing being held up by a little girl (aged seven, almost eight). She gave me the cutest grin and waved us past in the most adorable way.

Then back to the big rink, some time later. I'm skating by myself, having been ditched by my boys. Cute Girl is now on the big rink, despite having limited skating skills. (The cuteness is still through the roof.) She's all 'OMG YOU CAN SKATE' to me as I go past her, so I stop and she's all 'Can I hold you hand?' I say yes, and we proceed to skate together for a little bit. What with her being a freaking chatterbox, I discover that her name is Hayley, she's with the holiday program group, and that my new fiancee was looking after the group. Clearly, this was FATE!

Just as destiny had arranged, my new husband came up to see if Hayley was bothering me (not at all, we're adopting her. She will be the bridesmaid) and we had even more moments!

And then we all went home, never to see each other again. (Hmm, I think it loses something there at the end there.)

Although: If your name is Ben and you were at ice skating the other day with a kid called Hayley and her friend Claudia, call me! I need you to confirm the guest list.

This is what forty degrees looks like

Brighton Beach

Road Rules

I am back. Our Great Ocean Road Trip was extremely fun, and I am currently trying to figure out the best way to tell you alllll about it. Thank you for continuing to comment, even as I was reduced to a camera-phone photo post a day. Also, you all continued to post, which meant that this morning I had 962 unread posts. I am getting through them slowly, and when I get down to 0 I'll start actually visiting and commenting. But it was good to hear about great holidays all round.

A while ago now, we got a lesson in freeway driving, which featured the proper response to someone who lets you into a lane. Said response being, as we all know (right?), a wave or simple lifting of a couple of fingers (the nice ones).

An off-shoot of this rule was not included in the lesson per se, but I feel it was implied and therefore am totally perplexed as to its non-application on our recent travels: if you're driving on a highway out in the country and you pass a car coming the other way, you show them the same courtesy of a raised hand. They will simultaneously be giving you a finger or two (again, in the nicest way possible).

Now, maybe this is more an NT thing, where everything is a little more laid-back and more rural and more long lonely highway and less crazy urban commuter freeway. I don't know. BUT STILL. Someone waves to you, you wave back. And YOU SHOULD BE WAVING ANYWAY. It's only polite.

Full disclosure: About the time I had given up on the goodness of humanity and refused to wave anymore, I was waved to and waved back but not in time. I still feel bad that this person remained unwaved to. After all, I was probably the only person ever who would've waved, and even I didn't. Poor bloke.

On the other hand, I like to think that I improved the days of all those people I waved to. And that they were all inspired to wave to the next car they passed. Oh yes, I am bringing it back.

The Great Ocean Road Trip: Day Six

Eureka! Awesome day in ballarat at the eureka centre and sovereign hill. Then back towards Adelaide. See you all soon!

The Great Ocean Road Trip: Day Five

Trampoline park was closed, but it's all good because our caravan park has a jumpy pillow! Did Melbourne today, heading back starting tomorrow.

The Great Ocean Road Trip: Day Four

Tiger Moth plane flights all round!

The Great Ocean Road: Day Three

Trampoline park: closed. Missy: devasted. Rest of the trip: going awesomely.

Great Ocean Road Trip: Day Two

The Blue Lake

The Great Ocean Road Trip: Day One

We're off!

2008 In Review

I am currently away on the Great Ocean Road Trip. It is awesome, I am sure. However, lots of awesome things happened in 2008, despite it being pretty much universally known as the Year of Suck, and I thought I'd mention just some of them.

In January, I re-named all the childcare centres in Adelaide before starting work at one, and I told a story from my childhood mostly in pictures.

In February, I moved into my new house, and decided to do Honours in 08 and go to BlogHer in July.

In March, we had a ton of events, including the Adelaide Cup.

In April, I found out my boobs were perfect, and realised I was shit at Honours.

In May, I freaked out about BlogHer and then started planning what I wanted to do, made an Australia 101 kit, and witnessed Uni Hall winning Battle of the Bands - again!

In June, I continued planning for BlogHer, and wrote a Letter To My Body.

In July, I flew to San Francisco (via Auckland), and then met a bunch of awesome people at the conference, and then travelled, a lot, while good and bad things happened to my hair.

In August, I discovered Twilight, then arrived home, and lo, it was my birthday. I reflected on my BlogHer trip, continued being crap at uni, and also, the Olympics happened.

In September, I freaked out about my thesis, and distracted myself by sending you mail (which ... did that even get to you?).

In October, I joined the gym, went to the Living End concert, and managed to finish my thesis.

In November, I started planning for our road trip, pondered body image, celebrated the end of the school year, and watched Obama get elected.

In December, I graduated and performed selfishly selfless Christmas deeds.

Wow, this year went quick. And simultaneously it seems like this all happened a long time ago. I hope everyone has an awesome New Years, and an amazingly happy 2009.

What were your highlights of 2008? What are your big plans for 2009?

Very Full

So you may have noticed this little thing called Christmas. Yeah, that happened. I had bacon and eggs for breakfast, a little of The OC for lunch, and a lot of family, prawns, and lamingtons for dinner.

Boxing Day I did nothing, all day, repeatedly and at length. I was awesome at it. Even though I should have been getting things like beds and linen and groceries ready, because the next day...

... my boys arrived! And I got up at 5am to meet them at the airport. I am a kick-arse sister/daughter. Then the taxi driver got them lost, even though I told my dad the driver would get them lost and gave him directions to write down which he then didn't bring, and even though I gave the driver directions, which he apparently didn't feel the need to listen to. Here's a hint: the passengers should not be responsible for looking through the street directory.

Anyway, they made it here eventually and proceeded to sleep. All day. While I worked. All day. On the majorest shopping day of the year. (I love my family, I love my family. Ok, all good.) Then we had a barbeque, and talked and laughed into infinity.

Then my dad left us for his brother, skywalker and I went to the gym and woke up crazy sore tomorrow, and very soon we leave for the Great Ocean Road.

Basically: Christmas was lovely, and will be awesome again when we have ours on New Years Eve. My boys are here and we are having lots of fun. Summer is also kind of here, which rocks. Everyone else having fun? Awesome.

Merry Christmas

Thanks for reading. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmastime.

The Tale of the Christmas Fairy and her Selfishly Selfless Good Deeds

And Ridiculously Long Post Titles

One day, the Christmas Fairy - a cheerful young retail worker with tinsel in her hair and Heelys on her feet - looked at the clock. While all her friends had to work until nine that night, and all the next day (Christmas Eve), her Christmas was going to start in just three minutes.

The Christmas Fairy was very happy about this, and decided to share some Christmas Cheer with her co-workers by bringing them yummy Boost Juice smoothies. On the way back with her presents, she stopped at a stand for World Vision and gave them all the rest of the cash she had in her wallet.

As she did so, the Christmas Fairy remembered The One Where Phoebe and Joey argue over truly selfless good deeds. The Christmas Fairy's friends were very happy with their drinks and that made her happy in return, and the World Vision Dude said that she would have a Very Merry Christmas. Therefore, the Christmas Fairy concluded that all good deeds are selfish, because they make you feel so good. She decided she could live with that.

So the next day,* the Christmas Fairy went in search of more good deeds, for although she is not overburdened with wealth (and in fact has a slight debt, due to her appearance - albeit with less tinsel - at BlogHer08), she is doing ok for herself, and also has finished her Christmas shopping and needs something to spend money on.

She went to the K-Mart Wishing Tree (or whatever tree is available at Marion - she is sure there will be one) and bought a present for a needy kid. (She wonders if any of Missy's readers might have ideas of what to get kids this Christmas. How much do you spend on a Wishing Tree kid?) Then she got some cash out and gave it to the Salvos person who is usually standing at the entrance, and she gave a larger-than-gold-coin donation to the gift wrapping people for wrapping her Wishing Tree present. Then she dropped off a bag of her old clothes at the op shop.

At the end of this, the Christmas Fairy was a little tired, but totally full of selfishly selfless good deeds, plus lots of Christmas Cheer that she shared with one and all at Christmas Mass and Carols that night.

*The rest of this is written predictively, because not only is the Christmas Fairy a huge fan of Christmas Cheer, but she has amazing powers of precognition.

*And also, when she got home on that first day, yet another selfishly selfless thing was waiting for her. A parcel has arrived for her, and we all know that the Christmas Fairy loves packages in the mail, but also, it wasn't even for her, but she got the package, and she'll get the happy feeling when she gives it to its future recipient. The Christmas Fairy is so confused but also very happy, because Christmas has officially started!

Beginning To Feel A Lot Like Christmas

Christmas is coming, y'all! I'm getting excited. Guess how I know it's close?

Christmas shopping: Done. Wrapped and all.

Cyclone/heat wave: Not quite. But the day I was wrapping my presents it was pouring down with rain. Loved it. And today was the first decent beach day of the year. Yay summer!

Christmas tree up: I have the same one as last year (thank you, Carla!) and I bought tinsel for our lounge room and my room.

Breakfast planned: Bacon and eggs, mmm.

Christmas Eve mass and carols: I have a date with Gma and Alyn for December 24. Folding chairs, Christmas carols, and a Santa hat on the saint statue, then we're ready for bed.

Carols in the Domain: I'm watching them right now. It's not Christmas without the Wiggles singing Go Santa Go.



What are your Christmas traditions?

Also: A week til my boys get here! Whoo!

Graduation Pictures

As of yesterday morning, I am officially graduated. Any inclination I had to repeat the process to get my Honours certificate next April was beaten out of me around about the five bajillionth name they called out, which was probably one that wasn't even in the program, like, NOW YOU'RE JUST MAKING THINGS UP. Apart from that, it was lovely. I walked, shook, doffed, and accepted (then napped, as I was in the first group of twenty. Out of, like, twenty bajillion). The dress and shoes and cap and gown all did perfectly, as did Photographer Shelle.

Slideshow here plus some of my favourite pics below, depending on whether you like sliding or scrolling down.




Thank you to everyone I've relied on for distraction and support over the past several years. I love you. And now ... no more essays!

You Fail Graduation

It turns out that - even if you got a straight High Distinction average (*cough-lowD-cough*) and handed in your last assignment over a year ago - the tests continue.

I had to work today from 10 til 6. The office where I had to pay for my gown hire was open from 9 to 5, so I could go before work - just. (Who needs breakfast or shaved legs anyhow?) The place where I had to pick up said gown did not open til 10, but it was open til 7 tonight, so all was well. (Also I had to get my shoes on my lunch break. Who needs lunch anyway?)

AS YOU CAN SEE ...



... OPEN TIL 7. RIGHT? RIGHT?!

Yeah, no. Not so much. Or at all.

Until me and this other girl who showed up convinced this other random woman - who worked in a different office and who has now vowed never to stay back late at work ever again lest she be roped into Grand Theft Graduation: Gown and Hood Edition again - to let us in so we could pillage caps and gowns to our hearts content.



Graduation test? Passed. Thank god.

Also, my shoes? Gold. The colour on my hood thing? Gold. I totally rock at graduation.

Back In The Game

Patty [at work]: I don't want to play basketball tonight.
Me [totally kidding]: I'll play for you!
Patty [mostly kidding]: Ok, you go.
Me [totally sarcastic]: Oh, sure.
Patty [mostly serious]: Do you want to play?
Me [still with the kidding]: Totally!
Patty [totally serious]: No, really, do you want to play?
Me [terrified with a side of excited, and also in the habit of saying yes by this point in the conversation]: Okay.

And that was how I found myself playing my first game of basketball in years, and realising that no, I am not even in the same country as the state of fitness I hope to achieve. The treadmill is getting easier, but that does not mean I am ready to run a full game.

It was Social, however, so that was good; we had some fun. AND - Guess who got the first points for our team? And it was a three, too. (Guess who also got four fouls? Old habits die hard.)

I'm going to go lie down now. For about a year.

The End?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Free Feed, Stop Your Whinging

First of all, quite seriously, I have a question for you: Say you happen to be attending a lunch provided by the English department for its Honours students and staff. When you and your two friends arrive, there are two of your fellow students sitting in the middle seats of a long table. Do you:

(a) sit next to them,
(b) sit at one end of the table, or
(c) sit at the other end of the table?

If you answered b or c ... um, okay, then I will stop my ranting, because that's just what the people I want to complain about did. But seriously? Is that not rude? (Honestly, I'm asking.)

Anyway, other things I experienced at yesterday's lunch:

Professors really do discuss such pretentious things as the opera, the latest reviews they've submitted, and what journal articles they've read recently.

I'm not sure which is worse: me, being mistaken for an idiot kid, or my classmate, being mistaken for a lecturer that had been hiding all year.

The hilarity of a plan largely depends on the number of glasses of (free, so really, shut up, me) wine its beholder has enjoyed. (It's ok, they all stopped soon after ... and went back to marking essays.)

Everyone has Facebook, even the oldest of lecturers. No-one claims to actually use it, however.

I discovered why a university located in the south of Adelaide and populated with, you know, uni students has a fancy brunchy restaurant - so the now-postgrad students and their lecturers can pretend to be above everyone else all together.

Some people are just much better at being sociable. It's a gift and not everyone has it.

Well, I waited til today to write this, and apparently being back at uni makes me very bitter about things. Whoda thought?

Burn Baby Burn

Since I live in (a) Australia and (b) a house with boys who (b)(i) watch cartoons and sport and not much else, I've had to download all the shows that aren't on normal TV. Mostly One Tree Hill, and some random Heroes eps that I missed due to work. All this downloading basically caused my computer to become full to the point of bursting with all those mega-giga-bajiggerbites, so I decided to buy a DVD burner, which would get all those eps off my computer and on to pretty little discs.

Except that the burning software I got was only a trial version. And that I wasn't sure the real thing would even help with the file types that I have. And that the free version of the other thing I found puts a watermark on the video. And that even when I paid to make it work it's not a matter of burning a CD; it takes for freaking ever. And that in order to print onto the CD, you have to buy special ones. And that I don't have these special discs, even though the main feature me and the guy were talking about was the label burner thing, so you think he might have sold me those particular discs.

And most of all, the fact that in order for any of this to work, it was necessary to delete all but four episodes of the ones I'd downloaded, as well as deleting a bunch of programs, and cutting down my Uni Hall Photo Collection considerably.

After all that, I now have exactly one new DVD. And the promise of plenty more when I figure out how to exceed our download without the housemates or the internet company finding out.

No Room At The Inn

In this the festive season, I have a new appreciation for the hardship the Virgin Mary experienced. "Hitting the road" apparently will land you on the side of the road with no prospect of a hot meal, a shower, or internet power.

On the plus side, even though I've made approximately ten bajillion phone calls all up and down the south east, I'm probably only out, like, a dollar. It doesn't cost much to be told repeatedly, "Hell no, not a chance."

Unless of course you thought to make your bookings a year in advance. For a freaking unpowered camp site. Seriously, tourists, the Great Ocean Road is not all that great. I think you should all take your tents and your caravans and hit some other road, Jack.

Man, I Must Be Getting Old

I think you can safely say you're an adult when you start complaining about there being too many people at the shops. All of whom feel the need to take up the whole aisle and most likely do it from right in front of something you want to look at, and make sudden stops in the middle of the walkway when all you want to do is walk down it, and who apparently bought all the good things just seconds before you got there.

Following that last point, I really think someone needs to make a shop called Things You Can Buy For Your Dad For His Birthday (That Won't Cost Too Much To Post). I really feel this would be a service to society, possibly deserving of some sort of medallion.

And they wonder why all their presents came from shops ending in .com.

Um ... Oops?

So apparently the answer to the planning question was no, and the question wasn't actually about a holiday, it was about posts for NaBloPoMo. Which has been renamed to NaBloPo17DaysInNo, because, well, I didn't plan and therefore forgot to post yesterday. My bad.

I totally have no excuse either (although my internet was a little spotty, it was ok for enough of the night to let me check up on what to expect on this week's Heroes, because I have no patience like that) as I simply got distracted with Season One of The OC and the prospect of working in the middle of the week and thinking about how much my stomach would hurt tomorrow (which is today, and I can confirm the answer is: like a total mofo, thanks a lot, Pushy McTrainerson).

So ... sorry about that. On the plus side, your feed reader will be minus one pointless post every day for the rest of November (not that I'm not going to post for the rest of the month, but hopefully they will all have a point), because I really didn't have anything to say yesterday, I don't think.

Ooh, except this: I went shopping last week for a dress for graduation, and found one. Now I need shoes. Last week I walked past a shoe shop and saw some I thought I might like, but I had to get home, so I didn't try them on or anything. I thought about them all week and decided I loved them, and today after work I went to have a look at them. And dudes, the shoes in my imagination were totally awesome and totally do not look like a the real thing, so much so that I had to ask if they were perhaps moved due to their awesomeness, even though the rest of the display looked exactly the same, and ... no? Ok, then. Imaginary shoes for grad it is!