"I feel like my mum is going to knock on the door and say 'C'mon girls, it's time for bed - get out of the pub'" Maybe that would have been a good thing??

In reverse order: drunken stumbles home, WPC stories a go go, party planning frenzy, 2 more pubs for the list, near misses with phone dumping, planning THAT trip to NY (joint bank accounts - wow we are finally grown up girls), champers and lip gloss. Summer Hill didn't know what hit it.

A whole world of scrappy fun

Fuck me. There are more scrapbooking sites out there than I could ever have dreamed of. Really. And they take all the fun out of taking the piss because, really, they say it so well themselves:

Have you ever staged an event just to use that cute sticker or die-cut that you had to have?
Do you buy your childrens' clothing because it matches the great paper that you found?
Do you have more scrapbooking toys (I mean tools) than any of your friends?
Do you have more scrapbooking supplies than you could possibly ever use but you still continue buying?
(Welcome to Scrapbooking Obsession!
Are you an obsessed scrapper?)

Let this be a warning to us all.

Bean Queen

Eating soy icecream (chocolate, non-GM) out of the container. Drank too much coffee today and am all highly strung now. Um, more highly strung. God bless the RDO. Yes, Government might pay like shit, might be demorilising and lodged somewhere in the 60's in terms of organisational development but WE GET DAYS OFF. Huh. Yeah.

Finally getting travel photos done today - ie copies, extras, enlargements, distribute to people you promised copies to etc. What is the average time post holiday do you think? It's 2 months for me and I think that's actually pretty good. Of course I don't have the albums yet - can't decide on the *system*. Maybe that would be a good small business idea - 'post holiday crap sorting R Us' or similar... They could do your washing, deal with the photos, send e-mails to those people you said you'd keep in contact with but now can't be arsed, put all those stupid receipts somewhere etc.

Oh nice segway. Have you heard of scrapbooking? V and I saw truly awful magazines in markets in Leura and then I saw a course on it in Community College Guide. Awful, awful, awful. You too can take perfectly OK pics and make them into a glitter and bubblewriting hell.

A whole Magazine of Scrapbooking Fun

RIP Feng Shui Fish

Yes, it's true. There was a casualty on the weekend - black goggly eyed one way floating and not moving. Dead. Am I a bad fish mum? Was it sick when I got it? Did that fact sheet from WPC come just those few days too late? Who knows.

I'll keep this brief as I am seedy as all get out. Saw some dj's from Mad Racket playing at the Festival Bar last night - danced till I got a blister, ouch.

Re BDO - I went in the end - saw Strokes, Aphex Twin, Felix da Housa Cat and Basement Jaxx. Basement Jaxx were well worth a look if you are in the boiler room already - even if you aren't the world's biggest fan usually it was hard not to love their 'Hi-NRG' style performance and amazing strong female vocals and sassy 'having a great time being up here' on stage performance. Plus cute bongo player. Nice way to end the night.

Quotable quotes
Friday: "aaah lasers, now I feel at home" (from Mr doing volunteer work at the nude beach). Saturday: "He looked like casper the friendly ghost" (from Ms now all my worst pale jeans fears for date boy have been realised). "I've found Hawaii postcard gold!" (Thankyou party invite design consultant). And belatedly, "B.I.T.C.H. Do you want me to use it in sentence? You are a bitch" (Mc keeping those scraggy Eastern suburbs beachside bowling club bar staff in their place - even if not to their face).

Keep them comin' kids - these are our future 'it's only 4.17's.

In the end, we are all alone.

The big life questions that apply to all the big life things - 'am I alone here?' and 'am I doing this right?'. I am tackling both as I wade through laptop instruction booklet. Try this one out for size "This computer support shutdown software shutdown". Uh huh, it may well, but clearly does not support plurals... And Step 2 tells me how to install my operating system "Turn on the computer, when text appears.." but it is step 3 that tells me how to turn on and open it. Uh huh. (Not that I didn't know how already but it's the principal.) Can I trust the computer nerd that designed the thing was better at their job than the person who wrote the quick start guide?

Am I alone here? Am I doing this right?

Fish still alive and happy. Friend got an e-mail today from old friend asking 'what sort of person buys aquarium fish?' We agreed was wacky coincidence. What sort of person indeed.

Musing on anger tonight. Had a meeting with a man up the ladder and described myself as 'pretty cross' about a work situation. 'Pretty cross'? Am I my flute fancying year 9 Chemistry teacher here or what? For fuck's sake, I was ropable. I was seething. I was absolutely furious. Curse my stupid conditioning for stealing the thunder and lightening from my mouth and replacing with the shudder of nothing. Treacherous lips blow out conciliatory words that wave white flags and forgive everything, compromise on everything. Note to self - yell and scream more.

On a cheerier note (heaven forbid we dwell on icky old cross feelings campers), housemate and I unpacked bookshelf tonight. Bring out the library-style book-shelf organising fanatic. Oh, that's me. Housemate commented that as I look a bit like a librarian maybe I could be one. I look like a librarian? Does everyone else think that except me? It's meant to be ironic dammit. (Very very ironic).

Walked home barefooot tonight. (F-it B, you were right this is addictive.) I was the trashy girl in evening clothes with high heels in hand walking in her own bubble home to bed like a quilt seeking missile. After wearing said heels I never expected to walk home. They were Falling Out Of A Taxi shoes (thanks to Miss A for those words), but after enough drinks walking home seemed good and carrying shoes and letting feet commune with every stray lump and bump n footpath also seemed good.

Speaking of parties (was I?), why am I always the dregs of every party I go to? Dregs? Last guest to leave? Life of? whatever - amounts to much the same thing. There are others guilty of this too (you know who you are) - you're the ones dancing in the loungeroom while the host tidies glasswear at the end of the night, the ones making novelty drinks and convincing the pregnant tee-totaller to do tequila shots, the ones doing huddles in the loungeroom and loudly whispering plans ('it's only 4.15'). Trashy - no doubt. No regard for tomorrow self - clearly. Good party guest - well I like to think so.

Fishy news

I have fish! First time since I was six that I've had goldfish and I'm actually excited by them. It all started with an empty crystal fruit bowl that I unpacked. Then there were a packet of glam rocks at a candle shop, then it had water for a week (establishing an ecosystem' according to fish shop lady - did feel funny that as a trained ecologist I would have fish lady with bad eye makeup tell me about ecosystem in my fruit bowl), then Thursday night I went bunta in the pet shop and bought googly eyed black ones plus a cranky orange one, lots of plants, bubbler, air stone and food. Yihah! We have takeoff.

They are frisky little devils and swim around a lot and do cute gobbly mouth things to air bubbles and rocks and side of bowl. It's like they're giving everything little kisses.

Am pondering the fish name *issue* at present. (Think that maybe I am channeling stray maternal instincts into fish?) Figure as I don't have children and no immediate plans for such, that I should be allowed to give my fish stupid celebrity (or even celebratory) names that would make them cringe if they went to (fishy) school or make them stand out of the who's who pages of who if they were celebrities. Names like Dallas and Hunter and Carter. Or Vermillion, Azure and Ecrue. Bibsy-Belle? Zarna-Louise?

Or maybe named after where they were 'conceived' (me idly flicking through feng shui book and realising that while getting all the eastern-prosperity corners or evil energy sucking path-to-front-doors sorted out was beyond me, a bowl of fish could just about be tacklable). So? Lucky? Chi? Chai? Loc? (Chinese for happy apparently).

Or dead grandma names - actual or stylistically similar - Maude? Ivy? Rose? I am thinking of Edith and Maggie for my actual great-grandmas. But that leaves the big orange fish nameless. Any suggestions?

(Have I magically been transported back in time to become six years old all over again? Maybe).

The other good thing about the fish is that I struck up an e-mail conversation with one of my workplace crushes about fish care and maintenance (there's context, just trust me that this wasn't an entirely wacky thing to do), thereby having our first non-work related e-exchange. He even offered to bring in a fact sheet he has at home about fish care. ha ha. So he's interested, right..? Or could it be that he just has an inappropriate amount of enthusiasm for fish care?

Either way, I am very happy with new piscean friends. (I would say 'pets' but Mc and I have already spent far too long arguing over whether fish quality. Clearly they do, but he doesn't agree).

OK this is the inevitable 'I've never done this before - please be gentle' speech. To be completely honest I have never even read a blogg so chances are I wont be very good at writing one. A good friend set this up for me - I think she thought it was time I got with the technology program - or maybe it was a hint that I should be more sharing in my perceptions of the world - or maybe just a thinly veiled ploy to get me to read hers. Regardless, it was a sweet gesture so the very least I can do it give it a go, hey? And poor you for having to read it.