From Muse's new song, 'Uprising,' such an awesome title, comes a fantastic chorus:
They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious
Ahh, such powerful lyrics, sung with such gusto. I love it, this is a song that has to be played LOUD.
A worthwhile mention to another fave at the moment. Actually, it's a little part of Fall Out Boys' new one, 'Alpha Dog.'
You're not the first, or the last, but you're possibly the prettiest.
It's great. Often it's not the words that are said, but how they are delivered that produces the meaning. That's true in all of life, not just for music.
AND, continuing from my recent all-things-Twilight theme (as there are only 6 DAYS TO GO! to New Moon) I firmly believe that Muse's uprising is a definite New Moon song, and deserves its place on the soundtrack despite the fact that it is not there. It astounds me that a song by Muse, the band that has been mentioned by many sources if not also by the person herself, Stephenie Meyer, that they are an inspiration to her in her writings, and then a song such as that should appear and not be on the soundtrack despite its clear connection the the movie! Come on, it is so clear!
Uprising? Lyrics like
and hope that we will never see the truth around;
and endless red tape to keep the truth confined;
we should never be afraid to die.
Yes, I realise what Muse are really referring to, but interpretations are unique, meaning you can read it in a number of ways, including from a Twilight-themed perspective. This song could have sooooo been utilised in a much better way.
(So come on!)
Friday, November 13, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
The Billboard of Desire
When I first started reading Twilight last year, I was trying to complete it before the movie came out. I was working on a tight shift, as I was working full-time and trying to organise my wedding at the same time. But I was managing to squeeze in a chapter a night.
As I was reading it, and as the movie premiere approached, a certain billboard came up. On my way into work, in the city, in a regular billboard poster spot, a Twilight poster had been placed up. The regular poster that you usually see associated with the movie, with Edward and Bella. I used to look up at that poster everyday on my way in to work, wondering how the book would conclude, and wondering if and how the movie was going to live up to the books' expectations.
After I finished reading it, and the movie came out, and I watched it (several times!), the billboard eventually came down, replaced by another one. I actually saw the 'billboard' men removing it, the day it was replaced, and thought "noooooo! Not Twilight!"
Months passed, and I wondered if when New Moon premiered at the cinemas, whether the Twilight poster saga would return to its rightful place in the city centre.....
And so, as I started reading New Moon only months earlier now, I started to wonder, and look up at that same spot every single day.
I finished New Moon, and still, I observed the billboard space, watching as they changed from promoting, drinks, lingerie and other random items, of which I can barely remember because they were not INTERESTING.
New Moon is only a week away from its premiere. And today, as I turned the familiar corner into this main city street, I glanced up, only a block away to the huge building that housed the billboard spot.
And I could see it was different.
The traffic distracted me from a moment, but not for long. Through the oddly bright yet cloudy morning sun, I could see those words. That font.
New Moon.
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I was sooooo excited! I didn't even really know for sure if the billboard would go up in the same spot that the Twilight one did, but after months of staring at that spot, and only ever thinking one thing "Twilight, twilight, twilight....." it's actually happened. Such a minor thing it may seem, but it has made not just my day, but my month, possible MONTHS, depending on how long it'll be up!
So happy!
It's like being a kid again. Hoping against hope that I'd get that barbie caravan, Wishing, hoping, praying and waiting all that time to Christmas. And then BANG! I got it!
Christmas has come early for me :)
The countdown is on. 7 days to go.........
As I was reading it, and as the movie premiere approached, a certain billboard came up. On my way into work, in the city, in a regular billboard poster spot, a Twilight poster had been placed up. The regular poster that you usually see associated with the movie, with Edward and Bella. I used to look up at that poster everyday on my way in to work, wondering how the book would conclude, and wondering if and how the movie was going to live up to the books' expectations.
After I finished reading it, and the movie came out, and I watched it (several times!), the billboard eventually came down, replaced by another one. I actually saw the 'billboard' men removing it, the day it was replaced, and thought "noooooo! Not Twilight!"
Months passed, and I wondered if when New Moon premiered at the cinemas, whether the Twilight poster saga would return to its rightful place in the city centre.....
And so, as I started reading New Moon only months earlier now, I started to wonder, and look up at that same spot every single day.
I finished New Moon, and still, I observed the billboard space, watching as they changed from promoting, drinks, lingerie and other random items, of which I can barely remember because they were not INTERESTING.
New Moon is only a week away from its premiere. And today, as I turned the familiar corner into this main city street, I glanced up, only a block away to the huge building that housed the billboard spot.
And I could see it was different.
The traffic distracted me from a moment, but not for long. Through the oddly bright yet cloudy morning sun, I could see those words. That font.
New Moon.
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I was sooooo excited! I didn't even really know for sure if the billboard would go up in the same spot that the Twilight one did, but after months of staring at that spot, and only ever thinking one thing "Twilight, twilight, twilight....." it's actually happened. Such a minor thing it may seem, but it has made not just my day, but my month, possible MONTHS, depending on how long it'll be up!
So happy!
It's like being a kid again. Hoping against hope that I'd get that barbie caravan, Wishing, hoping, praying and waiting all that time to Christmas. And then BANG! I got it!
Christmas has come early for me :)
The countdown is on. 7 days to go.........
Friday, November 6, 2009
WOW. What a weekend/s, what a week/s - Part 2 of my Marathon
Friday morning I had instructions. Before work I was to get half a piece of bread, make it soggy with water and then break it up into little-itty-bitty pieces so that the little-itty-bitty bird could eat it.
I was shitty because firstly, I had to do this. Why couldn't Hubbie do this, he found the bird? I'm almost late to work everyday as it is, let alone having a bird I needed to feed.
His excuse was it's still dark when he gets up. Yes, but.... hmph.
So, I did my bit. And I must admit, when I walked into the shed, and tentatively peeked into the beer box, through the old bbq rack, and saw this cute, so so so small bird staring up at me, my heart melted. It was standing, just staring up, quite unaware of all the trauma we were feeling because of it.
It was soooo sweet. I started crumbing up bits of soggy bread, dropping it through the bbq rack steel slats, and they just dropped around the bird. The bird didn't flinch, it just kept looking at me, it didn't even look down at what I had just dropped. Although I crumbed up the whole piece, I realised this bird was probably looking at me as a substitute for its mother, and expecting me to put the food directly in its mouth. After trying to aim the bread INTO its mouth, unsuccessfully, I whispered some words of eating encouragement to the little one ( I was growing quite fond of it now ) and left.
I had an appointment to get my hair cut and coloured that day after work, so I went there straight after without going home. Before I walked in, I called Hubbie to find out what had happened with the bird when he got home.
I was so surprised, both happy surprised and sad surprised, when he told me he had taken the bird to the local vet, so that they could feed it properly to eventually release it. Happy because this poor bird was finally gonna get some decent help, but sad because in that short amount of time, I felt like I needed to say goodbye to it first before it continued on its journey. Weird, huh?
But I was glad, glad that our efforts had paid off, and that this bird which would have otherwise been eaten by a neighbourhood cat, was getting a second chance at life. Albeit without its little family of birds, but better a life alone than death....
When I got home, more good news. Hubbie had left the fridge in its place, but now the bins were outside in the backyard again. Although we couldn't take them out through the garage anymore, we could just roll them through the house. A little price to pay to make everyone happy.
I had to wait for my U.S pal to stop by to drop off some stuff, and once she had, I rushed to the shops to FINALLY do my massive grocery shop. In my heels, I ran through the store, trolley flying in front of me, and managed to get everything in about 30 minutes. There was no checking for prices or brands, I was just randomly grabbing whatever it was I needed with no usual grocery shopping deliberation about which brand is better and/or cheaper. The store closed and I was on my happy way.
I managed to make my cookie batch that night, and then there was still heaps to do awaiting me the next day.
In summary, Saturday was spent going to the shops, making a lasagna ( and this is a lasagna! ) cleaning the ENTIRE house and getting myself ready for the wedding we had that night, my U.S bestie's sister. It may not sound like much but let me tell you, I barely had time to eat. And all this preparation, for my Hubbie's birthday the next day, where we were having both his and mine immediate families over for lunch, plus some close friends. And Hubbie and I don't do things in halves.
By Saturday night, as excited as I was about having a great night out with my friends, I was spent, and having a glass of red didn't help the cause either.
By the time I got to sleep at 1.30am, I was so tired, not just from that day, but from knowing what would await me the next day, and how much I still had to do.
7.00am I got up, it was painful, really. I'd set my alarm for 6.30am, but I just couldn't get myself up. I trudged out of bed and made my way to my tasks ahead.
Which included: making a cake, preparing the tables, making various salads and other foods and just a whole lot of preparation. If Hubbie hadn't gotten up and helped me out, I'd have been screwed.
Ha ha. The irony of that.
The day went fine, busy but fine. I barely had a chance to sit down, other than when I ate, and after when the cake had been cut and we'd sung happy birthday. I'd actually been finishing the cake throughout the day, so you can see how busy the day had been. The cake was a white chocolate cheesecake and it was a definite success! Everyone loved it, especially Hubbie, which is what mattered most :)
On top of everything that day, my friends came over that night, mainly because my U.S pal was now heading back to the States the next morning, so it was our last little get together.
Thank goodness I'd taken the Monday off. I had a surprise for Hubbie, I'd organised a Crime Tour of our city, after some lunch, and the tour alone took about 3 hours. It was nice, if not just to see our city through new, refreshed eyes.
That night our folks came over to help us eat the leftovers, and then more friends came by later on. It was fun, but the busy-ness was starting to look never-ending to me.
I thought the next night was gonna be quiet, but we ended up out to dinner with some OTHER friends, and then they came over for drinks. Sigh.
FINALLY my break came on Wednesday night. Once I'd finished my nightly duties, I think I just sat on the couch (actually I LAY down) and watched eps of The Bold and the Beautiful that I'd taped. And it felt sooooo good.
Although the previous week/s had been fun, because they had involved our close family, close friends and fun celebrations, I was still so wrecked by it all. As much as I love them all, I was so glad for it to be over. That following weekend we still had some stuff on, but this time it was different, because I didn't have to cook everything and clean the whole house in preparation! We were going out, which was easier....
We had dinner out Saturday night with Hubbie's boss and his wife (boss had gotten a bonus, so we were benefiting from it!) and Sunday night was another wedding.
A public holiday came during the week, and usually on a day like that where I would encourage Hubbie and I to do something with friends, you know what it was that I wanted? All I wanted was "peace and quiet." As my 7-year-old nephew says to his parents when they have a hectic weekend going everywhere, and all he wants to do is stay home and play with his toys. I just wanted to stay at home, and relax.
Which is what you need. Sometimes you need it. Nothingness can be so good.
We won't mind the story about the back-door neighbours stupid dog that dug underneath our fence to make it into our backyard and ruin the small vegie patch we had going. That's a stupid incident we won't indulge in here, because here and now, it's all well, and it's all good.
The weekend ahead looks promising. The forecast says the sun will be shining, there are blue skies ahead, and good times look like a definite. With weather like that, I think I'm ready to get busy again :)
I was shitty because firstly, I had to do this. Why couldn't Hubbie do this, he found the bird? I'm almost late to work everyday as it is, let alone having a bird I needed to feed.
His excuse was it's still dark when he gets up. Yes, but.... hmph.
So, I did my bit. And I must admit, when I walked into the shed, and tentatively peeked into the beer box, through the old bbq rack, and saw this cute, so so so small bird staring up at me, my heart melted. It was standing, just staring up, quite unaware of all the trauma we were feeling because of it.
It was soooo sweet. I started crumbing up bits of soggy bread, dropping it through the bbq rack steel slats, and they just dropped around the bird. The bird didn't flinch, it just kept looking at me, it didn't even look down at what I had just dropped. Although I crumbed up the whole piece, I realised this bird was probably looking at me as a substitute for its mother, and expecting me to put the food directly in its mouth. After trying to aim the bread INTO its mouth, unsuccessfully, I whispered some words of eating encouragement to the little one ( I was growing quite fond of it now ) and left.
I had an appointment to get my hair cut and coloured that day after work, so I went there straight after without going home. Before I walked in, I called Hubbie to find out what had happened with the bird when he got home.
I was so surprised, both happy surprised and sad surprised, when he told me he had taken the bird to the local vet, so that they could feed it properly to eventually release it. Happy because this poor bird was finally gonna get some decent help, but sad because in that short amount of time, I felt like I needed to say goodbye to it first before it continued on its journey. Weird, huh?
But I was glad, glad that our efforts had paid off, and that this bird which would have otherwise been eaten by a neighbourhood cat, was getting a second chance at life. Albeit without its little family of birds, but better a life alone than death....
When I got home, more good news. Hubbie had left the fridge in its place, but now the bins were outside in the backyard again. Although we couldn't take them out through the garage anymore, we could just roll them through the house. A little price to pay to make everyone happy.
I had to wait for my U.S pal to stop by to drop off some stuff, and once she had, I rushed to the shops to FINALLY do my massive grocery shop. In my heels, I ran through the store, trolley flying in front of me, and managed to get everything in about 30 minutes. There was no checking for prices or brands, I was just randomly grabbing whatever it was I needed with no usual grocery shopping deliberation about which brand is better and/or cheaper. The store closed and I was on my happy way.
I managed to make my cookie batch that night, and then there was still heaps to do awaiting me the next day.
In summary, Saturday was spent going to the shops, making a lasagna ( and this is a lasagna! ) cleaning the ENTIRE house and getting myself ready for the wedding we had that night, my U.S bestie's sister. It may not sound like much but let me tell you, I barely had time to eat. And all this preparation, for my Hubbie's birthday the next day, where we were having both his and mine immediate families over for lunch, plus some close friends. And Hubbie and I don't do things in halves.
By Saturday night, as excited as I was about having a great night out with my friends, I was spent, and having a glass of red didn't help the cause either.
By the time I got to sleep at 1.30am, I was so tired, not just from that day, but from knowing what would await me the next day, and how much I still had to do.
7.00am I got up, it was painful, really. I'd set my alarm for 6.30am, but I just couldn't get myself up. I trudged out of bed and made my way to my tasks ahead.
Which included: making a cake, preparing the tables, making various salads and other foods and just a whole lot of preparation. If Hubbie hadn't gotten up and helped me out, I'd have been screwed.
Ha ha. The irony of that.
The day went fine, busy but fine. I barely had a chance to sit down, other than when I ate, and after when the cake had been cut and we'd sung happy birthday. I'd actually been finishing the cake throughout the day, so you can see how busy the day had been. The cake was a white chocolate cheesecake and it was a definite success! Everyone loved it, especially Hubbie, which is what mattered most :)
On top of everything that day, my friends came over that night, mainly because my U.S pal was now heading back to the States the next morning, so it was our last little get together.
Thank goodness I'd taken the Monday off. I had a surprise for Hubbie, I'd organised a Crime Tour of our city, after some lunch, and the tour alone took about 3 hours. It was nice, if not just to see our city through new, refreshed eyes.
That night our folks came over to help us eat the leftovers, and then more friends came by later on. It was fun, but the busy-ness was starting to look never-ending to me.
I thought the next night was gonna be quiet, but we ended up out to dinner with some OTHER friends, and then they came over for drinks. Sigh.
FINALLY my break came on Wednesday night. Once I'd finished my nightly duties, I think I just sat on the couch (actually I LAY down) and watched eps of The Bold and the Beautiful that I'd taped. And it felt sooooo good.
Although the previous week/s had been fun, because they had involved our close family, close friends and fun celebrations, I was still so wrecked by it all. As much as I love them all, I was so glad for it to be over. That following weekend we still had some stuff on, but this time it was different, because I didn't have to cook everything and clean the whole house in preparation! We were going out, which was easier....
We had dinner out Saturday night with Hubbie's boss and his wife (boss had gotten a bonus, so we were benefiting from it!) and Sunday night was another wedding.
A public holiday came during the week, and usually on a day like that where I would encourage Hubbie and I to do something with friends, you know what it was that I wanted? All I wanted was "peace and quiet." As my 7-year-old nephew says to his parents when they have a hectic weekend going everywhere, and all he wants to do is stay home and play with his toys. I just wanted to stay at home, and relax.
Which is what you need. Sometimes you need it. Nothingness can be so good.
We won't mind the story about the back-door neighbours stupid dog that dug underneath our fence to make it into our backyard and ruin the small vegie patch we had going. That's a stupid incident we won't indulge in here, because here and now, it's all well, and it's all good.
The weekend ahead looks promising. The forecast says the sun will be shining, there are blue skies ahead, and good times look like a definite. With weather like that, I think I'm ready to get busy again :)
Thursday, November 5, 2009
The Compulsive "Checker-outer": An interlude
Do you know someone who just stares?
There's this person at my work. She seems nice enough, I don't work with her directly but occasionally I need to speak to her about a few work-related duties. And you know, rather than the meet-at-the-water-cooler thing, we have the meet-in-the-kitchen thing.
And usually in the kitchen, but not limited to there, whenever I walk by her or we're in a situation to speak and we exchange hello's, it is immediately followed by her once over of me.
Smile, look down to my mid section, check me out, back up.
It is really starting to get to me.
At first when it started happening, I was thinking, "shit, do I have something sticking out?"
Then after a few more times it was "She's checking out my outfit."
But now, it's just getting annoying. Predictable even. It happened both yesterday and today, And today when it happened, as I approached her, I thought to myself "I'll get the once over now," and BANG it happened.
It's just truly irritating. It's not done in a jealous way, at least I don't think so. It's done in an annoying compulsive way, where I think not even she is aware of it.
I'm so tempted to walk into the kitchen next time and not even look at her eyes, but just stare at her pants.
HA.
She's nice and friendly and everything, but even if she is THAT way inclined, she shouldn't do it so overtly. It makes me all uncomfortable.
I should buy her some shaded sunglasses for KK.
There's this person at my work. She seems nice enough, I don't work with her directly but occasionally I need to speak to her about a few work-related duties. And you know, rather than the meet-at-the-water-cooler thing, we have the meet-in-the-kitchen thing.
And usually in the kitchen, but not limited to there, whenever I walk by her or we're in a situation to speak and we exchange hello's, it is immediately followed by her once over of me.
Smile, look down to my mid section, check me out, back up.
It is really starting to get to me.
At first when it started happening, I was thinking, "shit, do I have something sticking out?"
Then after a few more times it was "She's checking out my outfit."
But now, it's just getting annoying. Predictable even. It happened both yesterday and today, And today when it happened, as I approached her, I thought to myself "I'll get the once over now," and BANG it happened.
It's just truly irritating. It's not done in a jealous way, at least I don't think so. It's done in an annoying compulsive way, where I think not even she is aware of it.
I'm so tempted to walk into the kitchen next time and not even look at her eyes, but just stare at her pants.
HA.
She's nice and friendly and everything, but even if she is THAT way inclined, she shouldn't do it so overtly. It makes me all uncomfortable.
I should buy her some shaded sunglasses for KK.
Monday, November 2, 2009
WOW. What a weekend/s, what a week/s
Definitely the right word. WOW.
It has been crazy-mania for a while now. Two Saturdays ago, one of my best friends flew on over from the States, to make it for her sisters wedding.
The same day that she flew over, we went out for her sisters hens night. Being the first girls night I've been to since getting married, the phrase "getting wasted" was a complete understatement to me. My friends found me particularly amusing and entertaining that night. As did Hubbie when I stumbled into the house, clickety-clackety, moaning that I was drunk.
The following day found me not only re-cuperating from the previous nights bender, but catching up wth my sister and brother-in-law, at lo and behold, a bar.
As if I didn't have enough the night before. With the family I had, I had no choice BUT to drink, unless I wanted to be ridiculed for the rest of eternity.
It was a really nice day though, and I didn't drink too much. It was a lovely family catch up.
The next day, Monday night, my U.S pal came by for a visit, and after catching up for a few hours she fell asleep on our couch. While we waited for her sister to pick her up, Hubbie and I took terms babysitting her sleeping self on the couch while the other got ready for bed! By the time she was picked up, I ended up going to bed about 1am.
That was 3 nights of sleep screwed up already. And it was only the beginning of the working week, meaning I wouldn't have much time to catch up on sleep until the weekend. And even that didn't look promising, as the following weekend was going to be busy, busy, busy!!!!
The following nights I can't really remember to be honest. But I know that when you have odd and insufficient sleep patterns for a few nights, you actually need to sleep IN to fix your body clock up. And getting up for work wasn't fixing me up much.
Plus I was busy trying to organise my Hubbie's birthday lunch for that coming Sunday. I had all these plans, to make some food earlier, make a cake and make coo kies, do the grocery shopping, plan my dishes, clean the house, etc, etc....
Thursday after work I had big plans, to do ALL my grocery shopping, make the cookie dough (so it was ready to be baked fresh Sunday morning) as well as get ready for work and other regular weeknight jobs.
Then the bird and the fridge happened. This is a freakin' book in itself.
Let me begin.
I'd come home earlier that day from work, and as Hubbie wanted me to wait for him to eat dinner (I think just leftovers) I had no choice but to wait. My first point of frustration was not being able to make sandwiches for work the next day, as we were out of bread. So I found myself wasting time, which I did not want on a night when I wanted to get a lot done.
Also that day, we'd received a fridge that we had previously ordered, an extra fridge that we wanted to keep in the garage for those family functions where there was just not often room in ONE fridge for all the food, drinks and dessert we had; in other words, this was a grog fridge.
So this fridge was now in our garage having been delivered earlier in the day with my Dad there to accept it.
Hubbie came home and one of the first things out of his mouth was
"there's a baby bird in our front yard and it can't fly!"
Upon further inspection, I saw that this wasn't a baby bird that you keep as a pet, rather it was one of the wild neighbourhood birds (like a sparrow) and it was quite literally in our front yard, so small, trying to fly but not even managing 20 cm into the air, as its wings were not strong enough.
Now I'm not normally a person that gravitates towards birds. I think everyone has one pet animal they prefer and mine is cats. I've never been a huge bird person, but because of Hubbie's love of birds and other random animals, I've grown fond of certain types of them.
Now this was, as I say, only a wild neighbourhood bird, but if you saw how tiny and vulnerable it looked, and the way its wings fluttered helplessly as it tried to take off, your heart would've cried too.
Hubbie and I KNEW what we had to do. We had to somehow save this bird. Another larger bird, possibly a member of its family, flew in a few times when it thought we weren't there, and either gave something to the little one or just checked on it. But then it never came back. And despite my wishful thinking, a flock of birds did not come and lift this baby bird off into the sunset.
It was going to get dark soon, and remembering the wild, vicious cat fight we'd heard outside our yard only nights before, knowing full well that there were plenty of cats in this area, this bird would not last 'til midnight. NO WAY.
So, hungry, with a new fridge in the garage that had to be adjusted because Hubbie's car didn't fit anymore, a baby bird in our front yard that couldn't fly and that would be eaten if we didn't save it, we decided to attempt the task of rescuing - ahem, catching - the bird.
Meanwhile time was ticking, and I still needed to get the grocery shopping done and make my cookie batch.
With an empty cardboard beer box, I stood in one corner, while Hubbie, with his gardening gloves, attempted to come at it from another side, in order to corner it.
The baby, tiny as it was, was also smart, and managed to make its way to a corner where it was almost impossible to reach. I kept saying "just grab it! It's a baby it won't bite you! Stop being so soft!" He attempted again a few times, and finally, managed to lift it and place it in the box. I quickly shut the lid.
As we took it around to the back of the house, (we were going to put it in the shed) I wasn't holding the lid down properly, and this little bird's head started popping out, as it tried to get out of the box.
Now it was me freaking out. I wanted to put it back in, but I didn't know how to do it without damaging its head.
I was totally freaking out and almost shrieking, and it ended up jumping out. Hubbie had to get it again and put it back in. "And you say I'm soft?!"
Yes he was right, I soooo ate my words. I guess its fear of the unknown, fear of this wild bird. No matter how small this thing is, logic flies out the window (ha ha) and you're left petrified of this little object that you could easily miss if you walked by it.
Well, we ended up setting up this poor little bird in our shed: we opened the top lid and slid over it an old bbq rack left behind from the previous tenants, that way the bird could see through and have heaps of breathing space.
Then came the fridge argument. Hubbie realised that the current position of the fridge prevented him from parking his car in the garage, as he could quite literally NOT get out of his car. If the fridge was moved up or down the side of the garage either way, it still meant there was minimal space in squeezing by. And he was not risking, in any way, a scratch on his car.
Sigh.
And then he suggested, putting our spare fridge, under the stairs. As in, in the house, under the stairs, only around the corner from the kitchen and in clear view of our other fridge there!
I was NOT a bogan! I was not going to have one fridge in clear view of the other, shoved into a house space like under the stairs, where you could still clearly see EVERYTHING!
The more we argued the more absolutely furious I got. There was NO WAY, he was keeping the fridge in the garage, with the possibility of scratching his car (he is very precious about his car you see, as it is a classic and on the not-so-cheap side) and there was NO WAY we were moving it under the stairs, where it was in clear view, as I was not going to cheapen the look of our interior. The thought absolutely disgusted me and made my lips curl.
We were stuck in a gridlock over the bloody fridge.
Then we thought of another option. Why don't we move the fridge to the other side of the garage, set up an extension lead, and that way it wouldn't be interfering with Hubbie's passageway to the car?
We realised that would also block one of our exits out - not a crucial exit point, but it was the way we brought our rubbish bins from the back of the house to the front. The fridge being in front of this exit now prevented us from moving our bins through the garage. For the moment we decided to keep the bins IN the garage, therefore removing any use for that door, which was good as we now had a fridge in front of it.
After eating, I frustratingly rushed to the shops. It wasn't helped when Hubbie called as I was getting out of my car and insisted that it was better for the fridge to be under the stairs. I nearly blew my top, the mere thought of that stupid idea turned me bright red. There was no way that was happening, and I let him know that as we hung up.
The rest of the night was just plain stupid. After getting just my BASIC grocery items, I left the shops to see a message on my mobile. I listened to the message as I drove home, and I grimaced as I got to the end of the message. Hubbie. Pretty much saying "get an extension cord...... 5 metres long........ don't leave the shops...... get the cord."
Sigh.
Back I went. And when I couldn't find the right length cord there, I had to go to ANOTHER store.
By the time I got home, I still had to wash the dishes, make lunches for the next day, clean up, and I didn't even get time to make my cookies.
He had moved the fridge in that time, but the old bird cage we wanted to get that resided at Hubbie's parents place, we couldn't get because they weren't home to drop it off to us.
At the end of the day we had a fridge wedged between an extremely frustrated couple.
And we had a bird in a cardboard beer box in a shed, perhaps more lost than when it started out.
To be continued.....
It has been crazy-mania for a while now. Two Saturdays ago, one of my best friends flew on over from the States, to make it for her sisters wedding.
The same day that she flew over, we went out for her sisters hens night. Being the first girls night I've been to since getting married, the phrase "getting wasted" was a complete understatement to me. My friends found me particularly amusing and entertaining that night. As did Hubbie when I stumbled into the house, clickety-clackety, moaning that I was drunk.
The following day found me not only re-cuperating from the previous nights bender, but catching up wth my sister and brother-in-law, at lo and behold, a bar.
As if I didn't have enough the night before. With the family I had, I had no choice BUT to drink, unless I wanted to be ridiculed for the rest of eternity.
It was a really nice day though, and I didn't drink too much. It was a lovely family catch up.
The next day, Monday night, my U.S pal came by for a visit, and after catching up for a few hours she fell asleep on our couch. While we waited for her sister to pick her up, Hubbie and I took terms babysitting her sleeping self on the couch while the other got ready for bed! By the time she was picked up, I ended up going to bed about 1am.
That was 3 nights of sleep screwed up already. And it was only the beginning of the working week, meaning I wouldn't have much time to catch up on sleep until the weekend. And even that didn't look promising, as the following weekend was going to be busy, busy, busy!!!!
The following nights I can't really remember to be honest. But I know that when you have odd and insufficient sleep patterns for a few nights, you actually need to sleep IN to fix your body clock up. And getting up for work wasn't fixing me up much.
Plus I was busy trying to organise my Hubbie's birthday lunch for that coming Sunday. I had all these plans, to make some food earlier, make a cake and make coo kies, do the grocery shopping, plan my dishes, clean the house, etc, etc....
Thursday after work I had big plans, to do ALL my grocery shopping, make the cookie dough (so it was ready to be baked fresh Sunday morning) as well as get ready for work and other regular weeknight jobs.
Then the bird and the fridge happened. This is a freakin' book in itself.
Let me begin.
I'd come home earlier that day from work, and as Hubbie wanted me to wait for him to eat dinner (I think just leftovers) I had no choice but to wait. My first point of frustration was not being able to make sandwiches for work the next day, as we were out of bread. So I found myself wasting time, which I did not want on a night when I wanted to get a lot done.
Also that day, we'd received a fridge that we had previously ordered, an extra fridge that we wanted to keep in the garage for those family functions where there was just not often room in ONE fridge for all the food, drinks and dessert we had; in other words, this was a grog fridge.
So this fridge was now in our garage having been delivered earlier in the day with my Dad there to accept it.
Hubbie came home and one of the first things out of his mouth was
"there's a baby bird in our front yard and it can't fly!"
Upon further inspection, I saw that this wasn't a baby bird that you keep as a pet, rather it was one of the wild neighbourhood birds (like a sparrow) and it was quite literally in our front yard, so small, trying to fly but not even managing 20 cm into the air, as its wings were not strong enough.
Now I'm not normally a person that gravitates towards birds. I think everyone has one pet animal they prefer and mine is cats. I've never been a huge bird person, but because of Hubbie's love of birds and other random animals, I've grown fond of certain types of them.
Now this was, as I say, only a wild neighbourhood bird, but if you saw how tiny and vulnerable it looked, and the way its wings fluttered helplessly as it tried to take off, your heart would've cried too.
Hubbie and I KNEW what we had to do. We had to somehow save this bird. Another larger bird, possibly a member of its family, flew in a few times when it thought we weren't there, and either gave something to the little one or just checked on it. But then it never came back. And despite my wishful thinking, a flock of birds did not come and lift this baby bird off into the sunset.
It was going to get dark soon, and remembering the wild, vicious cat fight we'd heard outside our yard only nights before, knowing full well that there were plenty of cats in this area, this bird would not last 'til midnight. NO WAY.
So, hungry, with a new fridge in the garage that had to be adjusted because Hubbie's car didn't fit anymore, a baby bird in our front yard that couldn't fly and that would be eaten if we didn't save it, we decided to attempt the task of rescuing - ahem, catching - the bird.
Meanwhile time was ticking, and I still needed to get the grocery shopping done and make my cookie batch.
With an empty cardboard beer box, I stood in one corner, while Hubbie, with his gardening gloves, attempted to come at it from another side, in order to corner it.
The baby, tiny as it was, was also smart, and managed to make its way to a corner where it was almost impossible to reach. I kept saying "just grab it! It's a baby it won't bite you! Stop being so soft!" He attempted again a few times, and finally, managed to lift it and place it in the box. I quickly shut the lid.
As we took it around to the back of the house, (we were going to put it in the shed) I wasn't holding the lid down properly, and this little bird's head started popping out, as it tried to get out of the box.
Now it was me freaking out. I wanted to put it back in, but I didn't know how to do it without damaging its head.
I was totally freaking out and almost shrieking, and it ended up jumping out. Hubbie had to get it again and put it back in. "And you say I'm soft?!"
Yes he was right, I soooo ate my words. I guess its fear of the unknown, fear of this wild bird. No matter how small this thing is, logic flies out the window (ha ha) and you're left petrified of this little object that you could easily miss if you walked by it.
Well, we ended up setting up this poor little bird in our shed: we opened the top lid and slid over it an old bbq rack left behind from the previous tenants, that way the bird could see through and have heaps of breathing space.
Then came the fridge argument. Hubbie realised that the current position of the fridge prevented him from parking his car in the garage, as he could quite literally NOT get out of his car. If the fridge was moved up or down the side of the garage either way, it still meant there was minimal space in squeezing by. And he was not risking, in any way, a scratch on his car.
Sigh.
And then he suggested, putting our spare fridge, under the stairs. As in, in the house, under the stairs, only around the corner from the kitchen and in clear view of our other fridge there!
I was NOT a bogan! I was not going to have one fridge in clear view of the other, shoved into a house space like under the stairs, where you could still clearly see EVERYTHING!
The more we argued the more absolutely furious I got. There was NO WAY, he was keeping the fridge in the garage, with the possibility of scratching his car (he is very precious about his car you see, as it is a classic and on the not-so-cheap side) and there was NO WAY we were moving it under the stairs, where it was in clear view, as I was not going to cheapen the look of our interior. The thought absolutely disgusted me and made my lips curl.
We were stuck in a gridlock over the bloody fridge.
Then we thought of another option. Why don't we move the fridge to the other side of the garage, set up an extension lead, and that way it wouldn't be interfering with Hubbie's passageway to the car?
We realised that would also block one of our exits out - not a crucial exit point, but it was the way we brought our rubbish bins from the back of the house to the front. The fridge being in front of this exit now prevented us from moving our bins through the garage. For the moment we decided to keep the bins IN the garage, therefore removing any use for that door, which was good as we now had a fridge in front of it.
After eating, I frustratingly rushed to the shops. It wasn't helped when Hubbie called as I was getting out of my car and insisted that it was better for the fridge to be under the stairs. I nearly blew my top, the mere thought of that stupid idea turned me bright red. There was no way that was happening, and I let him know that as we hung up.
The rest of the night was just plain stupid. After getting just my BASIC grocery items, I left the shops to see a message on my mobile. I listened to the message as I drove home, and I grimaced as I got to the end of the message. Hubbie. Pretty much saying "get an extension cord...... 5 metres long........ don't leave the shops...... get the cord."
Sigh.
Back I went. And when I couldn't find the right length cord there, I had to go to ANOTHER store.
By the time I got home, I still had to wash the dishes, make lunches for the next day, clean up, and I didn't even get time to make my cookies.
He had moved the fridge in that time, but the old bird cage we wanted to get that resided at Hubbie's parents place, we couldn't get because they weren't home to drop it off to us.
At the end of the day we had a fridge wedged between an extremely frustrated couple.
And we had a bird in a cardboard beer box in a shed, perhaps more lost than when it started out.
To be continued.....
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Do you have a laughing hyena in your life?
Now, I must be careful, I need to bite my tongue. Up front I want to make it clear, that there is absolutely nothing wrong with being happy and enjoying a giggle.
And I'm all for positivity, and positive energy going out..... but sometimes people think their happiness is good, when really it borders on insanity.
There's this girl I know, I come across her now and then in my daily activities. There are times where I go "hmmmmm, she's not that bad," and others where I mutter "Shut the hell up."
Today is the latter day.
There's something to be said about a person who laughs hysterically at a simple remark.
You know, that type of person, when something is said and they move their whole upper torso down and back like they're convulsing?
The sort of person that you almost expect to start hiccuping, that's how out-of-control their laughing is?
But if for some reason you can't identify this kind of person (and if you can, take my advice, GET AWAY FROM THEM!) you can tell this person by the others around you.
Notice what happens when they enter a room. Do people roll their eyes? Do people make comment about their absence, and take peculiar joy in it?
Hmmmmm. Makes you think.
There's just something to be said for a person who tells you about what socks they've bought, what colour they are and when they will be worn; how they cleaned their house this morning, how long it took them, what cleaning products they used; someone that shows photos to people that don't care, while onlookers try to writhe away slowly, around the corner.....
Are you starting to get a picture??
Yes. That annoyingly, irritatingly person that drives people up the wall with their overly excitable, over-the-top, false, 'me, me, me' exterior.
Sigh.
Go away already will you?
And I'm all for positivity, and positive energy going out..... but sometimes people think their happiness is good, when really it borders on insanity.
There's this girl I know, I come across her now and then in my daily activities. There are times where I go "hmmmmm, she's not that bad," and others where I mutter "Shut the hell up."
Today is the latter day.
There's something to be said about a person who laughs hysterically at a simple remark.
You know, that type of person, when something is said and they move their whole upper torso down and back like they're convulsing?
The sort of person that you almost expect to start hiccuping, that's how out-of-control their laughing is?
But if for some reason you can't identify this kind of person (and if you can, take my advice, GET AWAY FROM THEM!) you can tell this person by the others around you.
Notice what happens when they enter a room. Do people roll their eyes? Do people make comment about their absence, and take peculiar joy in it?
Hmmmmm. Makes you think.
There's just something to be said for a person who tells you about what socks they've bought, what colour they are and when they will be worn; how they cleaned their house this morning, how long it took them, what cleaning products they used; someone that shows photos to people that don't care, while onlookers try to writhe away slowly, around the corner.....
Are you starting to get a picture??
Yes. That annoyingly, irritatingly person that drives people up the wall with their overly excitable, over-the-top, false, 'me, me, me' exterior.
Sigh.
Go away already will you?
Monday, October 19, 2009
Truth and Jealousy
I've been feeling a bit peeved off lately concerning work. There's this one little thing that's irritated me since last Friday, and now I can't stop thinking about it.
I had a conversation with a 'superior' of mine last week, there were a few others there though, so it was during a group coffee break when it happened.
One of them asked the rest of us whether we were going to a fellow colleague of ours birthday the following weekend. That fellow colleague wasn't there during the time. I didn't really hear the question because he sort of mumbled it, so when he looked at me, I asked what he'd said.
He repeated "you going to ........ birthday?"
I paused because then I realised what he was saying, and remembering that I was busy that night, replied "Oh! I have a wedding that night."
The guy joked and made some sort of comment about my ridiculously busy schedule, to which my superior added, jokingly, "Oh, excuses excuses."
Hee hee hee.
I just sort of laughed it off, and I think the conversation changed to something else. But something about it stuck with me.
That night at home I told Hubbie. He's met my superior, so he could imagine the person saying it. He may not know the person well, but he's a very good judge of character.
He told me that yes, he could imagine this person saying that. Having met this person, he could see how they would say something, in a friendly, joking way, but deep within be believing of that comment, that it was not a joke but in fact the truth.
So I was right. My superior didn't believe me. Believed that I was making up an excuse to not go to this colleague of ours birthday.
It really shitted me. And it still does. Yes, I know that every time we talk about our weekends, that my stories always include some dinner, birthday, christening, engagement, wedding or get together that I've had. I realise that normal people don't usually have a birthday and a christening on one day and then a bridal shower on the next. And I realise that my superior is probably secretly shitty because they went to my birthday and I didn't go to theirs, because of the birthday/christening day we had a few weeks back.
But you know what? Our family isn't normal. We don't have one cousin and a few uncles and aunties that we see twice a year for Christmas and Easter. We don't have family functions that include the whole family sitting on an extended stretched out table.
We have uncles and aunties that have several kids each, all of who have more kids of their own. We have our parents' cousins and family friends on top of all this. This isn't including our large group of friends, acquired through school, work and recreational activities. If you've worked in more than one place, like both Hubbie and I have, you can start to see how your group of friends suddenly becomes quite large.
If we invite everyone we know in our family to a social event, we need to hire out a RECEPTION. This is no exaggeration. We had under 400 people at our wedding. That tells you that we know a lot of people. And yes granted, a lot of those people are friends of the family that our parents had to invite only because they were once invited to their sons/daughters wedding 15 years earlier. But that's what our family is, that's what we do. The most distant relative will invite you to a function, and you're expected to do the same.
Add to that our friends, OUTSIDE of work, and you start to get a picture. Hubbie had this same issue a while back, where the guys he worked with stirred him and couldn't really believe how many functions he had, wedding after wedding, on the same weekend.
But if you think about it, what reason is there to lie? And if you were to lie, why would you make up some ridiculous excuse about having a wedding on a Saturday and then another wedding following on a Sunday? It's so far-fetched and ridiculous that it MUST be true.
We have a lot of people in our life, we are truly blessed. So, to someone that comes from a different background, with a smaller family, why should that be weird to them, why should they believe something other than the truth, why would they believe that I'm lying?
They believe this because they think I'm trying to get out of going to the work get together. Fair enough, I missed their birthday, now I'm missing this one....... it MUST mean that. Surely, you can't have that many functions, you can't have that many friends, you can't have more people in your life, and have more places to go to, and be more busy than me.........
Ahhhhhhhh. That is it. That is the answer. This person, if they wanted to, COULD believe me. If they wanted to. They COULD believe that it is possible to be that busy. But then it would mean accepting the truth that their life isn't as busy, filled with as much people and parties, as mine.
And that is the hard part to swallow. It's jealousy, as much as they don't want to admit it. Which makes me sad. I hate jealousy. I hate when I see it consuming people, little or a lot. It doesn't matter how much it is, because the end result is the same. Resentment.
So this person has disguised their jealousy and resentment with distrustfulness, because that is easier to accept. Rather than the truth. Which really peeves me off. Such a small comment, yet such a window into their mind and the way they think.
I'm a very honest person. So for someone to believe, and suggest even in a joking way, of me being manipulative and lying to get out of a situation, out of an event? Me, party person, always busy wanting to go out and do stuff?
Bull crap.
It soooooo gets to me. Like really truly. And I hate the way I'm now looking at my superior. I'm extra aware of our interactions, and just this morning when I looked up to say something, I saw them looking at me in an odd observational way. Sussing me out.
I hate it. Hate, hate, hate it. I can feel the jealousy and the scrutiny, and I need to set them straight, via my incredible subtle powers!
Because they're my superior, and I can't just come out and say it. Because of just that word. 'Superior.'
Annoying.
Sigh. Why are people so complicated?
I had a conversation with a 'superior' of mine last week, there were a few others there though, so it was during a group coffee break when it happened.
One of them asked the rest of us whether we were going to a fellow colleague of ours birthday the following weekend. That fellow colleague wasn't there during the time. I didn't really hear the question because he sort of mumbled it, so when he looked at me, I asked what he'd said.
He repeated "you going to ........ birthday?"
I paused because then I realised what he was saying, and remembering that I was busy that night, replied "Oh! I have a wedding that night."
The guy joked and made some sort of comment about my ridiculously busy schedule, to which my superior added, jokingly, "Oh, excuses excuses."
Hee hee hee.
I just sort of laughed it off, and I think the conversation changed to something else. But something about it stuck with me.
That night at home I told Hubbie. He's met my superior, so he could imagine the person saying it. He may not know the person well, but he's a very good judge of character.
He told me that yes, he could imagine this person saying that. Having met this person, he could see how they would say something, in a friendly, joking way, but deep within be believing of that comment, that it was not a joke but in fact the truth.
So I was right. My superior didn't believe me. Believed that I was making up an excuse to not go to this colleague of ours birthday.
It really shitted me. And it still does. Yes, I know that every time we talk about our weekends, that my stories always include some dinner, birthday, christening, engagement, wedding or get together that I've had. I realise that normal people don't usually have a birthday and a christening on one day and then a bridal shower on the next. And I realise that my superior is probably secretly shitty because they went to my birthday and I didn't go to theirs, because of the birthday/christening day we had a few weeks back.
But you know what? Our family isn't normal. We don't have one cousin and a few uncles and aunties that we see twice a year for Christmas and Easter. We don't have family functions that include the whole family sitting on an extended stretched out table.
We have uncles and aunties that have several kids each, all of who have more kids of their own. We have our parents' cousins and family friends on top of all this. This isn't including our large group of friends, acquired through school, work and recreational activities. If you've worked in more than one place, like both Hubbie and I have, you can start to see how your group of friends suddenly becomes quite large.
If we invite everyone we know in our family to a social event, we need to hire out a RECEPTION. This is no exaggeration. We had under 400 people at our wedding. That tells you that we know a lot of people. And yes granted, a lot of those people are friends of the family that our parents had to invite only because they were once invited to their sons/daughters wedding 15 years earlier. But that's what our family is, that's what we do. The most distant relative will invite you to a function, and you're expected to do the same.
Add to that our friends, OUTSIDE of work, and you start to get a picture. Hubbie had this same issue a while back, where the guys he worked with stirred him and couldn't really believe how many functions he had, wedding after wedding, on the same weekend.
But if you think about it, what reason is there to lie? And if you were to lie, why would you make up some ridiculous excuse about having a wedding on a Saturday and then another wedding following on a Sunday? It's so far-fetched and ridiculous that it MUST be true.
We have a lot of people in our life, we are truly blessed. So, to someone that comes from a different background, with a smaller family, why should that be weird to them, why should they believe something other than the truth, why would they believe that I'm lying?
They believe this because they think I'm trying to get out of going to the work get together. Fair enough, I missed their birthday, now I'm missing this one....... it MUST mean that. Surely, you can't have that many functions, you can't have that many friends, you can't have more people in your life, and have more places to go to, and be more busy than me.........
Ahhhhhhhh. That is it. That is the answer. This person, if they wanted to, COULD believe me. If they wanted to. They COULD believe that it is possible to be that busy. But then it would mean accepting the truth that their life isn't as busy, filled with as much people and parties, as mine.
And that is the hard part to swallow. It's jealousy, as much as they don't want to admit it. Which makes me sad. I hate jealousy. I hate when I see it consuming people, little or a lot. It doesn't matter how much it is, because the end result is the same. Resentment.
So this person has disguised their jealousy and resentment with distrustfulness, because that is easier to accept. Rather than the truth. Which really peeves me off. Such a small comment, yet such a window into their mind and the way they think.
I'm a very honest person. So for someone to believe, and suggest even in a joking way, of me being manipulative and lying to get out of a situation, out of an event? Me, party person, always busy wanting to go out and do stuff?
Bull crap.
It soooooo gets to me. Like really truly. And I hate the way I'm now looking at my superior. I'm extra aware of our interactions, and just this morning when I looked up to say something, I saw them looking at me in an odd observational way. Sussing me out.
I hate it. Hate, hate, hate it. I can feel the jealousy and the scrutiny, and I need to set them straight, via my incredible subtle powers!
Because they're my superior, and I can't just come out and say it. Because of just that word. 'Superior.'
Annoying.
Sigh. Why are people so complicated?
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