So Sunday night, I'm sitting on the couch, with Kill Bill 2 on in the background, as I read some mags and ponder the thought of going to bed. I'm totally minding my own business. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see movement.
I look, and there's a big disgusting spider scurrying across the floor, past me. Scurrying as if it knows it doesn't belong there, as if it knows I can see it.
I flew into action. After a bit of impromptu swearing, I grabbed the insect spray from the cupboard and proceeded to hunt down the mother. It had disappeared somewhere beneath the lounge, so I knew that by spraying around the lounge area, the smell would eventually force it out of its hiding.
The undenying parallels between what was happening in my lounge room, and what was happening on screen, only spurred me on more. I would've felt even more comfortable with my supposed army gear and face paint, as Hubbie has jokingly suggested that I do in my spider hunts while he's in bed.
As I spotted the ugly thing and sprayed with all my might, running around the lounge as it too, ran from me, Paula faced off with Elle on screen, culminating in a brutal attack.
I was Paula and I was getting even with this spider. This spider was going to take the brunt of my anger, it was going to represent all the spiders that had intruded into our home over the past weeks, scaring me, upsetting me, confusing me and bewildering me. I channelled my inner Paula and the spider could not do a thing. It lost the fight.
Once I'd sprayed enough, and realised the spiders sticky demeanour meant it would soon become still, I got to thinking.
Where the hell where these spiders coming from? Honestly, there had been more spiders in the past 2 weeks in our house than I could remember in one summer at my parents. It wasn't just the quantity of spiders, though, it was their size that made them stand out. They were all HUGE mothers.
I started to worry, and panic. I left the dead spider lying somewhere beneath the lounge, and went to bed.
But I couldn't sleep. I kept imagining spiders crawling up to the bedroom, and crawling all over me. I couldn't help shuddering and wincing.
I dreamt of them that night. I can't remember clearly what it was I dreamt, but I know it wasn't pleasant.
I'm worried there's a nest somewhere. I mean, spiders of this considerable size, I don't believe they've all arrived at the same party (where they're not invited.) by coincidence, by chance. They must be in a pack. And I have a really bad suspicion that they're in the very place that we can't see. I think they might be under the stairs.
That scary place, in a corner, filled with shadows, that can never have enough light, that can never really be lit up. That's the only place they could be.
Today, Hubbie has the day off. I've sent him on a mission, to buy one of those massive insect sprays with a hose, so that we can spray all over the house, inside and out. I might get HIM to take out the stuff we have under the stairs, (there is NO WAY that I will go near that area now) just random shopping bags and our empty suitcases. Then we will spray the hell out of it, and possible watch as millions and trillions of spiders fly out, like maggots out of a dead fly.
Ugh. Shudder. I feel sick.
This saga to be continued....
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Spiders and Moths vs. Miss S.
And so it is, the end of the week. And as I look back, the most prominent thing that stands out in my memories are bloody spiders and moths.
The freaking spiders and the freaking moths.
Although it's only Spring, this fair, ridiculously unpredictable city of ours, has experienced some bizarre heat wave in the past week, with temperatures barely dropping under 30 degrees celcius.
With heat like that, there have been some unexpected and unwelcome visitors in our home.
Now, with spiders, although I'm not a total arachnophobe like my sister is, I still don't like them. They totally freak me out, and I don't like them anywhere near me. I can handle them better than my sis though. Hubbie pointed out one of her bizarre talents only a week ago, it's hilarious. She has some sort of freaky spider radar. She can enter a room/area, and within moments determine and pinpoint the location of every creepy crawly, and with a dismissive hand point out to her husband the areas in which he needs to get to work exterminating.
Think Arnie in Terminator 2 scanning for the bad terminator via his radar, however in this instance it's spiders.
LOL it's great to watch.
Anyway, as I was saying, I don't like spiders. But what I have an unnatural phobia of are moths. Ugh. Shudder. Just the mere thought of them totally freaks me out. I won't go into too much detail about them, because it will start to make me feel sick, but let's just say the way they look, and fly, and the possibility of them with my hair....
STOP.
Move on.
Unfortunately for me we've had both spiders AND moths. More spiders, far more. Moths have been small, luckily, but still a decent size for me to have to insist on their death.
I've actually almost lost count of the times and places I've gone on my killing spree/demanded Hubbie to kill. Just tonight, only an hour ago, I killed 2 spiders. These aren't your little jumping spiders, these are huge Mothers, freakin' put all others to shame. That's why I'm so scared/fed up/overwhelmed. Why the hell are they coming out? Where are they coming from? I mean, how many spiders could there possibly be in one household?
GO away PLEASE!
I've chased them, killed them, tracked them, stamped on them, used my shoe, I've become a spider-killing expert. It's resulted in huge paranoia. I'm constantly looking around me, above to the walls and ceilings, scanning the floors, checking out every nook and cranny for a disgusting... thing. Ugh. The big ones are the scary ones, but usually kark it straight away from the mortein, despite their size.
Moths I can't stand. Those I corner into rooms, close the door, and then leave until Hubbie is able to get rid of them.
Just the other night, I was pleading for him to get a moth out of our bedroom, I needed to get stuff out of there. "Kill eat, save it, eat it, do whatever you want with it just get it out of here."
He raised an eyebrow "Does that mean you'll still kiss me if I eat it?"
"No."
"Well then don't say eat it."
"Oh." Scowl follows. Just kill the bloody thing.
Moths have generally popped up upstairs in the bedrooms, but spiders have been everywhere! Especially the lounge room, that's the 'hang-out,' especially for the big mothers.
Sigh.
I love summer. I LOVE summer weather. But what I'm beginning to realise, in this house anyway, is that summer heat is going to have a side-effect this year, a big annoying, constantly popping up and reoccurring nuisance.
I'm staring at one now. Don't worry it's not a live one. I flooded it with spray just a while ago, and now it lies dead, at the foot of the stairs.
Huh. Serves you right spider. You don't enter our domain! Tell your friends now to stay away..... oh, that's right. Well hopefully your friends have special spider radar and can sense your deadness.....
The freaking spiders and the freaking moths.
Although it's only Spring, this fair, ridiculously unpredictable city of ours, has experienced some bizarre heat wave in the past week, with temperatures barely dropping under 30 degrees celcius.
With heat like that, there have been some unexpected and unwelcome visitors in our home.
Now, with spiders, although I'm not a total arachnophobe like my sister is, I still don't like them. They totally freak me out, and I don't like them anywhere near me. I can handle them better than my sis though. Hubbie pointed out one of her bizarre talents only a week ago, it's hilarious. She has some sort of freaky spider radar. She can enter a room/area, and within moments determine and pinpoint the location of every creepy crawly, and with a dismissive hand point out to her husband the areas in which he needs to get to work exterminating.
Think Arnie in Terminator 2 scanning for the bad terminator via his radar, however in this instance it's spiders.
LOL it's great to watch.
Anyway, as I was saying, I don't like spiders. But what I have an unnatural phobia of are moths. Ugh. Shudder. Just the mere thought of them totally freaks me out. I won't go into too much detail about them, because it will start to make me feel sick, but let's just say the way they look, and fly, and the possibility of them with my hair....
STOP.
Move on.
Unfortunately for me we've had both spiders AND moths. More spiders, far more. Moths have been small, luckily, but still a decent size for me to have to insist on their death.
I've actually almost lost count of the times and places I've gone on my killing spree/demanded Hubbie to kill. Just tonight, only an hour ago, I killed 2 spiders. These aren't your little jumping spiders, these are huge Mothers, freakin' put all others to shame. That's why I'm so scared/fed up/overwhelmed. Why the hell are they coming out? Where are they coming from? I mean, how many spiders could there possibly be in one household?
GO away PLEASE!
I've chased them, killed them, tracked them, stamped on them, used my shoe, I've become a spider-killing expert. It's resulted in huge paranoia. I'm constantly looking around me, above to the walls and ceilings, scanning the floors, checking out every nook and cranny for a disgusting... thing. Ugh. The big ones are the scary ones, but usually kark it straight away from the mortein, despite their size.
Moths I can't stand. Those I corner into rooms, close the door, and then leave until Hubbie is able to get rid of them.
Just the other night, I was pleading for him to get a moth out of our bedroom, I needed to get stuff out of there. "Kill eat, save it, eat it, do whatever you want with it just get it out of here."
He raised an eyebrow "Does that mean you'll still kiss me if I eat it?"
"No."
"Well then don't say eat it."
"Oh." Scowl follows. Just kill the bloody thing.
Moths have generally popped up upstairs in the bedrooms, but spiders have been everywhere! Especially the lounge room, that's the 'hang-out,' especially for the big mothers.
Sigh.
I love summer. I LOVE summer weather. But what I'm beginning to realise, in this house anyway, is that summer heat is going to have a side-effect this year, a big annoying, constantly popping up and reoccurring nuisance.
I'm staring at one now. Don't worry it's not a live one. I flooded it with spray just a while ago, and now it lies dead, at the foot of the stairs.
Huh. Serves you right spider. You don't enter our domain! Tell your friends now to stay away..... oh, that's right. Well hopefully your friends have special spider radar and can sense your deadness.....
They will not control us, we will be Victorious!
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!)
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!)
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.....
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