Perhaps sometimes a predetermined format is the way to train oneself back to the very human necessity to communicate on some level. That’s what I’m left with lately. Or, so it seems.

Sometimes it seems that I’ve even forgotten how to form my lips into words to perform the normal interactions that are expected of me as part of a society. I fall out of the habit of even allowing other people to exist in my little reality. I unlearn one of the basic human tenets, that is, to participate on a daily basis in a matrix known as life.

If I could be bothered, I'd tell you what a long horrible drag today has been. Long. Awful. Annoying. But I'm not going to.

Why?

Because wonderful things are happening for people I know. And, that's life you know. Sometimes you have shitty days. I'm sure it will all turn itself around.

Only boring people get bored!

(to quote my grandmother)

I guess I must be boring people. And boring as well.

Sorry, can't blog...the D and I are cacking ourselve watching Miss Texas USA!

Seriously, there is one girl up there I went to highschool with...she's been doing this pageant for like seven years. The past couple years in the top ten. Always the bridesmaid never the bride!

Maybe this is her year?

I went to school with one girl that I think finally made it to the top spot. At one point during my college years I ran into her at the local neighbourhood pool. She told me how doing pageants was a full-time occupation. Hours and hours of current event classes, "poise" classes, gym hours, token school hours, and etc etc etc. Being barbie is hard! Seriously. Hours and years of investment into the pageant circuit. Hoping for the big win.

Oh god how I adore watching pageants. I super-duper love watching them with the D. He will only watch the first ten minutes or so (unless they have a swimsuit competition, which is different from an atheleticism competition).

Bob Hope is officially dead and I am now faced with seeing scary pictures of him from the last couple of years with his rheumy eyes and slidy-offy skin everywhere I look. (Well, not everwhere, but any news related internet/tv type looking.)

Shudder.

I ordered this along with the lemonade maker the other day....I absolutely love it!

Iniliate Bills!

That's the title of one of the many spam emails I get every day. Right. So. What the fuck is 'iniliate' ? Seriously, the spelling is so atrocious it is hard to make a guess as to what that word was meant to be. I'm thinking 'annihilate.' What's your guess?

the answer is 4

Yet one more thing to make me miss the beach....

If you loved me you'd buy this album for me. You would. Yes. You would.

Photos of Coral Bay

Jodi, this one is for you. Look at the picture of the wallaby. I'm dying.

This is one of my favourite spots in the entire world. D and I spent a week here once and I adored it.

He and I are both desperately missing the beach.

You can thank me later!

An African Lament

I don't do political commentary very gracefully at all, so insted I'll tell you the briefest of stories.

Back in the days IGL, I organized a temp to take over my duties at IGL for one of my trips back home (I usually took my 4 weeks off in one lot, and that left quite a gap at the office). We hired on an older lady, who really was quite nice, if not a bit shy.

She had a subtle, yet distinctive afrikaans lilt to her voice, and being the sticky beak I am, I asked how she came to be in Perth.

It was a sad sad story of how she and her family were more or less forced (threatened) to abandon their lives in Africa, so for their safety they decided to move to Australia. Some of the details were quite terrifying if not a big boggling. In fact, I rememer wondering if she hadn't exaggerated some of it. (That is before so many of the terrible stories started to come out of Zimbabwe and the region in general).

They left EVERYTHING behind. What they didn't carry with them on the plane, they had to forsake (including the contents of their bank accounts etc.)

This circumstance left them near destitute, near retirement age. Her husband was struggling to find meaningful work (he'd been a photographer with his own shop in Africa) and her scrambling to find any income to sustain the family.

Situations like this trouble me. And, remind me how lucky I am to have never had to face these kidn of threats to my life and my liberty.

Deep Dark Confessions

I have one to make. You know, I've been on a movie watching streak lately...and, trust me, we've watched all sorts. Some are so bad we resort to fast forwarding to them and making up a dialogue for our own amusement til we get to the end and see how close we were (with movies as obvious as these it is pretty easy to call the ending, and believe me, our own dialogue is a lot funnier than what is actually being said.) Right. So.

I've spoken of my Tom Cruise dislike before that is why this is kind of embarrasing to admit....I liked Vanilla Sky. D couldn't stomach it, and he got up in disgust about twenty minutes into it and said "this is one of your movies for sure." I liked the story. There you go. No, I still don't love Tom Cruise. Ever. At all, but I expected to not like this movie...and I did. Go figure.

Yes, yes, yes...we all love achewood, but I extra-special loved this one. (Thanks Jodi!)

General Notice for Today:

MS Access can bite me. It is rubbish, rubbish, rubbish.

Oh the fun just doesn't stop.

Really, is it only Monday?

By the way, did you remember to send the fabu Nicole birthday greetings this weekend? If not, it's not too late....you could always make up by sending her a little housewarming gift!

By the way, I have had adventures...oh yes I have. Trekking in hundred degree heat for a dog show. Driving into the wilds for a promising portugese restaurant that was mediocre at best, and where I had to beg them to let me pay so I could leave. Despite all the ridiculousness yesterday, D kept me in stitches.

He wants it stated for the record that I punched him in the nose yesterday. I did. Never mind it was an accident. He claims he is abused and tortured by it and may never recover.

Old Mother Hubbard

Ok all you dog peoples.....here's my official recommendation. NO ANIMAL TESTING, according to the dudes I spoke to at the dog show yesteray (unless you count the "testing" they do on their own pets...ie feeding them).

We brought some sample packs of their dog food home and our guys actually picked out these biscuits from their other biscuits and ate them first.

The ingredients are top notch to boot.

This world is full of assholes, that much is obvious.

"He'd been deboned like a piece of sausage,"

Not to be picky, but how do you debone a sausage. Or, if you are having to debone a sausage something is very wrong.

On another note, if the family had authorised harvesting how else did they expect it to occur?

For the record, when I die, I say use what you can and cremate the rest and dig it into the garden.

Oh joy of joys! Look at what I'm ordering at this very second!

How to dress like water?

"Dress as you really are."

That’s an intriguing statement don’t you think? What would you dress as? I would dress as water. That is the immediate response I had. I wish I could tell you some deep dark philosophical reason for thinking that. But I can’t. I just know I would dress as water.

… stumblingly flowing and deceptive in its transparency. Water is distortive.

You know, I just read what I wrote and it reads like a bunch of bollocks, because truly I am not at all that deep and meaningful.

Nevertheless I’d still dress as water. How does one do that?

How would you dress yourself?

Something I would have paid money to see.

Baby's first hurricane...

Our little barometer (Ruby) was up early this morning pacing and monitoring the increasing winds. Claudette is coming! Fabulous! This gives me an opportunity to actually use those stylish hurrican lamps I have dotted around the house in kute kuntry decoration mode!

Seriously, we expect to have some rain. That is it. A hurricane and this is all we get?

Today a neighbour I don't see very often told me she was sorry to hear about my dad. I said "Oh really, I'm quite alright." And suddenly I felt as though my heart was in my throat and the tears started before I even realized what was going on. I'm still startled by how much his death hurt my heart.

For those of you who haven't yet seen our gorgeous new boy.....here he is!

Breaking Dog News!

It's official. We are (for the moment) no longer fostering. Why? Well, it's all Sam's fault (now Simpson actually). D and I decided he couldn't bear to be without us, nor us without him...so he's now officially part of the fam. Yay! Unfortunately, that means we don't have a spare seat at the doggy table for anyone else. Boo! I will be cutting back my invovlement to monetary donations, and helping with driving/pick up etc. I'm a bit torn still about it all....I feel guilty for all the other dogs...but am happy that Simpson will stay.

Hold me! I'm scared!

Saw this and immediately thought of my lovelies in New York.... (you know who you are!)

The tell-tale tap....

Tap,tap,tap,tap,tap,tap.

In staccatto.

Tap,tap,tap,tap,tap,tap.

Tap,tap,tap,tap,tap,tap.

Are you annoyed yet? Because I sure as fuck am. There is a tap tap tapping (just audible over the other usual cubicle noises) that is niggling at me and may just drive me to violence.

A moment ago I got up to investigate, and discovered the tapping to be coming from behind the door of a maintenance closet of some sort. It could be some sort of mechanically induced tapping, but perhaps it is the tapping of some trapped maintenance crew? Sort of like people tap to draw attention to themselves in the rubble of a building affected by an earthquake?

Whatever it is, it may just push me over the edge if it doesn't stop soon.....

Last night I just happened to catch this movie on the Sundance channel.

Now I remember when it was realeased and I had absolutely NO desire to see it. Seriously. But last night, the dulcet flat tones of a true aussie accent sucked me in. Eric Bana (Poyter!) as a young Chopper is yummy (his acting is also quite impeccable as an older Chopper with the first yumminess of youth gone). That aside, the movie was fab! Seriously. Chopper Read is a nutter for sure, but he quite likeable in a larrikin like way. This movie was very Tarrantino-esque, but not in the tired way that makes so many movies in that vein since "Pulp Fiction" forgettable.

In fact, seeing as I missed the first half-hour, I'd even be apt to watch it again.

Are these not the creepiest ever? Like that creepy "brawny" paper towels ad....

From a link I found in my "Psychology Today" mag:

My Music Personality

Pood Update!

Remember Rosso the pood I couldn't resist? Well look at his most current picture! He's now Roscoe.

His fur is coming back in and he's doing very well. Pretty soon he'll be going to his forever home.

Hurrah.

Peeve number 2,348,675:

People that use some nonsensical phrase when they mean to curse. For exmaple: using something inane like "razzlefracking monkeysnort" instead of "motherfucking asshole." If you mean to curse, then curse without apology.

Today is a Birthday!

Today is Ollie's "birthday." One year ago today, I picked Ollie up from Montgomery County Animal Control. He was the first dog we ever "rescued."

He was a smelly, flea infested, sore covered, skinny dog who was shy about making eye contact with me. I slipped a lead on him and took him outside and he was ready to take off. I let him sniff and relieve himself. He peed for like ten mintues (or it seemed like it). I put him in the crate in my car and headed for home. It wasn't until I arrived nearly an hour later that I realized he'd quietly been vomitting all the way there.

Oh you should have seen the fleas that foamed off of him when I gave him a flea bath! And, just thinking about his shredded ears and abraded paws makes me weepy even now.

He was a sick and sad boy. It took days to convince him to eat more than a few dog biscuits from my hand. In fact, it wasn't until I cooked him some chicken that he actually ate on his own accord. It took only two days for him to break out of his puppy pen and sneak upstairs so he could sleep on the floor next to our bed. And it took me only about twenty seconds to know that Ollie was part of our family and that he was "home."

Today D is going to make him (and all the other pups) some Ollie style birthday treats (he requested chicken and apple, his two favourite foods). We are thankful for having Ollie in our lives.

Here are just a few reasons why I love Ollie:
1. I almost named him Seamus or Louie. And, he would have let me even though he knew his name was Ollie.
2. He is a big scaredy cat, but is serious about guarding Damien and I. Even if he's terrified. Yesterday he sat outside with me as a thundershower rolled in, even though he was almost passing out with fear from the thunder.
3. When he gets into a crazy puppy mood he runs around wit his bum tucked uner and his lips pulled back and looks absolutely unco and ridiculous.
4. He lets out a huge contented groan when he lays down at night after a long day of napping and patrolling the kitchen.
5. He adores D and I. Seriously, he thinks we hung the moon.
6. He loves Ruby and Bess. They are his family and nobody is allowed to mess with them.
7. He has the most silly "aroo" in the world....all deep and chesty and bellowy.
8. He knows stuff. He always knows when I'm sad or happy or mad. He also knows when our latest rescue is sick. He is very empathetic and intuitive. The day my dad died, Ollie sat down next to me and put his paw on my chest (right about where I felt my heart breaking) and looked into my eyes before curling up with his head in my lap. I think he's almost human.

Oh and I could go on and on about things like his tiny little white mustache, and his beatiful dark rimmed eyes. Or the way he will bury his head into your chest when you are hugging him...and and and.

Happy Birthday Olls....we are so glad you are part of our family.

Hey Wendy, you could try getting more information from this group...

I don't know if they cover your area, but they might be able to point you to the right resource.

A few years ago, D and I went to a barbie being held by some friends of our venezuelan friend in Australia. D was the sole Australian there. The company was composed mostly of venzuelans, argentinians, colombians, and a couple brazilians (I vaguely remember). It was nice for me, I really enjoyed hearing/speaking spanish after so many years of being in a totally non-spanish speaking environment. Along with the usual barbie type foods (ie. snags and chops), the thing one dish I recall being served that I enjoyed enormously was a lovely light slaw type salad. It has become a summer mainstay at our house:

1 Cabbage finely shredded
1 bunch cilantro (allison, feel free to substitute here...I'd suggest somethign like oregano or dill)
limes
salt
sugar

That's it. Shred the cabbage, and mix with finely chopped cilantro (or coriander if you want to be topically correct for this story). Toss liberally with lime juice and a touch of salt. Adjust the pucker factor with a dash of sugar.

Remember to try to share...though you might find yourself as I did...eating more than my fair share.

No one told me it wouldn't be a 24 hour funtime adventure! Wah!

Vomit. Seriously. Vomit. Can you imagine how unbearable this woman must be in "real" life?

This, in a couple paragraphs, is the kind of attitude that is so fucked up I can't even begin to express my revulsion.

Seriously. No one told you? Jesus. Get a divorce and go live your super-fun-always-happy-times-me-me-me-and-the-museums life... alone.

Yes, marriage is an awful drag sometimes. So is life in general, that's part of it, you know? Good times, bad times, totally forgettable moments, totally unforgettable moments... this is real life, not some weird skewed tv-esque reality you've hope for.

Go on. Go live your own life, watch "Sex and the City" while totally relating to the characters, and bemoan the fact that in the end, life is just life.

How I'm wasting time at work...

D and I have a (not quite a secret) plan about our return to Australia. No, not like this very second...but you know, sometime in the vague future.

Let me just say, the plan is super appealing...and it is a plan I never would have imagined I would actually be agreeing too...much less enthusiastic about.

Let me just say this: it involves that little bungalow on the beach I've always joked about.