Found out my hot crush has a gf. Too bad.

Yesterday, whilst doing the schools concerts with the Canberra Symph, we were playing the Star Wars theme. The conductor asked the kids "whose theme music was that? Was it for a goodie or a baddie?" They decided it was for a baddie, he asked what his name was, a very enthusiastic kid answered "the black guy".

I'm facestalking some of my cousins... one's info, under the 'religious' category is 'Go Catholic or Go Home'

I wonder if it's normal. When I was a kid/teen I used to ride horses. I had my own horse and had lessons every week, competed and was quite involved in the horse world. Now, almost 10 years later, I still have dreams that I'm horse riding.

I woke up with a swollen area on my thigh, with two tiny dots... the dots turned into blisters. I went to the chemist, and she said that if the blisters get bigger I should go to a hospital/doctor. Well, the two blisters have turned into four, but I don't really want to go to the hospital, I just KNOW it will be boring.

Today is my last day in Paris. There are many stories that I've neglected to tell you, my few faithful readers (Jacqui), but I will return and slot it in, you won't even notice it was missing.

My week in Paris was very enjoyable. My three months here a few years ago were good, but I didn't fall in love with the city. Not that I have now, but I guess I'm forming a crush. We did a large percentage of the museums, the Picasso one was wonderful, the Pompidou always one of my favorites, the Louvre was full of fat naked babies, and going to see Marie-Antoinettes place was tiring, and unfortunately entailed many fat naked babies as well.

We saw a tightrope walker, that was pretty cool, and I felt he deserved a euro from me, but of course in shrapnel form... when I was fishing around for it, a gypsy came up to me and asked for money, I ignored her. She kept asking, getting more and more agitated, until she cursed me. At least, I think she did. Nothing bad happened though.

At the moment, I can see two young jewish boys waiting for the drawbridge to close. They look happy to be waiting, carrying a plastic shopping bag with cereal. I'm about to check out of my hostel, do a bit of last minute shopping before I meet up with Jess and Rafe (who I've spent the week with). We were going to have a lunch picnic, but the weather is lousy. I guess it's a good thing, easing me back into shitty weather. See you soon, Jac.

Last night, as usual, I was lying in bed with the window open, reading my book and listening to music from my laptop. Between tracks I noticed music coming from outside, so I turned my music off to listen. The band was hard to hear, but the sax was so loud it was like it was playing a few metres away, the sound bouncing off the cliffs and hills around, causing it to have an echo, a very dreamy, acidy sound... then the tune ended, and I could tell there was a huge croud. I remembered someone saying that Sonny Rollins was going to be in town, but I didn't know when. I listened for a few more tunes, I was so tired but I felt like I didn't want to miss anything, then after a really upbeat tune, a booming voice said "merci beaucoup" a few times in a bad french accent, then introduced the band, and said "I'm Sonny Rollins, goodnight!" I was a bit dissapointed I wasn't there, but it was quite nice being alone in my breezy shoebox, being serenaded through the open window.

This morning, out this same window, 4 floors up, I saw a grasshopper on a leaf. Crazy grasshopper.

Today, a very nice Spanish girl said to me in a very matter-of-fact kind of way that there are a lot of Asians here. I then said, yes, there is a lot of classical music in Asian countries, therefore they like to come to summer schools... and I also said that there are a lot in Australia. She looked quite amazed, then said in a hushed voice 'but you're not...' and pulled her eye into a slit. HA

Yesterday I played in class. It wasn't as scary as I had imagined, he even suggested I play in the concert, I won't, but it was nice of him to say that.
To get to the school, you have to walk up a really big mountain, and seeing as though I didn't have to play, and you can practice in your bedroom, I decided to just stay in. And stay in I did. I didn't talk to a soul, or leave the confines of my little cell until 6:30. It was like being in gaol, but pleasant gaol, where you have your laptop (sans internet, but with itunes) your violin and a crappy adventure novel that is really boring but somehow keeps you reading. I even had the diet of stale bread and water (and lollies and melted magnum (when I bought the box of 4 I didn't expect that my fridge didn't have a freezer in it))
Tomorrow I'm playing again. I don't know if other people will be in the class watching, there are only 7 of us. One girl was really good and one older lady was pretty bad... she was like a 12 year old trapped inside the body of an old icelandic lady, and she just couldn't seem to pay attention or listen to Boris, he was getting so frustrating, it was funny and awkward.

Theres a boy sitting near me, at first I thought he was a bit cute, then I heard him say he was a singer.

I went to spain for the day, but the weather was awful. I was surprised at my ability to use the few words of spanish I know. I've realised that my awkwardness of speaking french comes from caring too much, and feeling like I should be able to speak it well.

I'm going to miss Rodolphe, he's fun and nice, and he has no friends! But he said that's OK, he doesn't need friends... why do I always go for the loners? He packed me a lunch bag with a sandwich, cherry tomatos, a peach, chocolate cake and some sour lollies. He calls lollies 'sweeties' because he got mixed up when I explained about lollies/candy/sweets. I didn't correct him.

Today someone asked me, after talking for a little bit (OK, they were one word answers) if I were Belgique and someone even said 'oh finally, a French person!' (after I said one word)

I sat next to a poodle on the train. It was well behaved, it barked a few times when people unexpectedly walked past, but that's to be expected, right?

I'm in Nice now. My room is tiny, the food is awful, but I like it anyway. I've had some successful smiles, but so far no friends. Tomorrow I will make many.

The south is so much better than Paris. Not just the sunshine, but the people are aren't so uptight, EVERYONE wants to chat, and they have funny accents.

I'm quite nervous about tomorrow, I just hope there are some really crap violinists.

In two weeks I have a week off, the first half is as yet unplanned, the second half I am going back to the west to go to the wedding of Jan (older son of the family I stayed with) and Chi. There will be 180 peopleish. I will sleep in a field, or a barn, or something equally exciting. Perhaps I will meet a cute boy.

A hornet is building a nest behind a post card of an infant crying, that blocks a hole that looks like it was punched by a mini fist. It buzzes incessantly, and I'm scared that thousands are going to fly out and maul me to death.

A busy few days. Of course, there was Bastille day, we went to a small villiage and payed 10 where is the euro button? to get in, walk up a steep hill and watch poor quality street performers, but it was nice none the less. I still can't get over how non european the french look, maybe its just the deep south french... Fat, bald, fair haired, fashion unconscious...

Today we went to the river, and built an island. I really need to get my camera connected. We built a bridge to the island, and lit a fire on it. Tomorrow we'll go back to see if it survived the night.

Friday is a day trip to spain, and the day I SHOULD get an email to find out if I got into the UTAS orchestra summer school.

I got an ridiculous email, saying that seeing as I was the recipient of a grant, could I email them to say how it helped me, with a photo of me with my instrument, and lots of other crap... It was 100 where is the dollar sign? for 20 hours rehearsal plus travel and practice time. HA, no, fuck you. I don't want this to be a rant blog, but sometime you have to let off some steam!

Saturday morning is my last day in the Bayonne/Biarritz area, I spend 2 days in Narbonne (and will see Harry Potter, I have a feeling it won't be shown in VO (vergion originale) french dub only.

Monday I'm off to Nice. I'm really scared. They're all going to be a lot better than me, and I will be so embarressed and disheartened that I'll never play again.

I appologise for this rant, if anyones reading. It won't happen again.

I broke the sink. Stupid euro plugs... metal things that you have to pull a lever to make it plug-up... i just pushed it in... the plug got stuck in the plugged position.

Tonight we've been invited to a bbq. I don't think I've mentioned this, but I have quit my vegetarian ways while I'm here to be a good guest... now I'm regretting that a bit... tonights menu is DUCK HEART! COEUR DU CANARRRRRD!!! I'll let you (I think Jac, you're the only one who reads this) know how it goes.

Rodolphe the cute dutch/french boy who lives here will be sharing my caravan for my final week here. I watch too many shitty romantic teen flicks.

hard boil

Every time I sit down at this computer (or eat dinner with the family, or am near them in a confined space) I fear I may get lung cancer. Chain smokers. All of them. Whilst preparing the salad, the 2cm long ash dangles precariously above what is meant to cleanse our pallet at the end of the meal.

Which reminds me. This morning I put two eggs on to boil for breakfast and went to start a bit of practice. I got sidetracked. When I went back into the house, there was a grey haze and an awful stench... water had evaporated, eggs cracked open, revealing something pretty horrific, if food can be described as horrific.

Which reminds me. Last night, whilst chez Kiki (the local) Rodolphe, some french bogans and I shared a few beers and a few Anis (French national drink that resembles cloudy apple juice, you add water, it tastes like aniseed). We were sitting around, recovering from our slog of a bike ride to get there, when in comes some drunks, come to get supplies. They stay a while, chat to Kiki and the other riffraff then they drive off. Over a kitten. We watched it flip around and contort itself in what at first we thought was playfulness (we didn't actually see the running over part, obviously) but it seemed a little violent, and to go on for too long... plus I've been watching a bit of House lately (or Dr House as Rodolphe calls it) because it's the only dvds they have... I recognise a seizure pretty good. Then it slowed down. Kiki went and picked it up by its feet and carried it away. Needless to say, the ambiance was ruined. There was a really mangey cat next to me, and I felt horrible for thinking "it should have been you, old boy, it should have been you."

Mongoloid

I haven't really done anything since the Great Eel Situation of the other day, except for suspect my host family of housing some sort of mutant. It's a small house. Living room and kitchen are separated by a door to the bedroom/bathroom area of the rest of the house. I know the toilet and bathroom well enough. Without much detective work on my behalf, I had worked out which was the master bedroom and the spare room (where Rodolphe, the recent uni graduate is now residing for the fist time in his life.) Then there was the mysterious door. I knew there were only two berdooms, the nights that Jan was here, he shared the bed with his brother. A few times when I knew everyone was out, I'd try opening the door a bit, but it was quite stiff. Then yesterday, finally alone again, I put some elbow grease into it, only opening it slightly enough to reveal a little table with a tea cup and a water glass on it, and a snowy television screen. I pulled it shut, heart racing, KNOWING in my heart that there was some sort of mongoloid child in there. I went outside to try looking into the window, and found there was only the living room window and the master bedroom. This poor child has no view to the outside world! I tried pushing the whole experience out of my mind, however, somehow, later that afternoon, after the family had come home from a hard days work, I found myself pushing the door handle down again, I didn't know what was coming over me, I was risking the trust of this loving family, a great thing I have going here, no rent, my own caravan, use of a car... for something that was definately not my business. I couldn't stop myself though! The same scene was laid out for me, except for one thing... a movement caught my eye... Marie Lou, the lady of the house, walking past the window...
I realised that it was a second door to the living room. I'd left the tele on and my dishes on the table. I watch too many stupid horror movies.

eels

What a lovely day it was today. I started the day off thinking "if I don't do something today I'm going to go crazy!" and then in walks Rodolphe asking if I wanted to see inside a real french supermarket! I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'd already ticked that off my list of tourist things. I drove the car! On the wrong side of the road! well, correct over here...

Then we went to river again. I got attacked by an eel. A real life eel. We were watching a really cute eel moving rocks with its mouth (not an easy feat) I was considering even helping... when all of a sudden, daddy eel came CHARGING at me. I mean charging, like a bull eel. I screamed an ugly, girlish scream, which I'm sure was accompanied by an ugly facial expression.

I still like eels though.

"Tonight's pizza night". The happiest I've been, so far on this trip, was when I heard those three words. I had a hangover today, and I had actually been daydreaming of pizza.
The cause of my hangover was a bunch of beers, a shot of rakiya (nasty Bulgarian spirit) red wine, and a few rum cocktails. I threw it all up behind my caravan.

It was a lovely day though. Jan, the older brother in the family I'm staying with, and the only one I'd met prior, had just arrived for the weekend, and him, his brother Rodolph and I went bar hopping (which in the south of france consists of going to weird empty corner stores).

and once we were all feeling a bit beer headed, we decided to go for a nice tractor ride to the river. Safe? Probably not. They own a big orance tractor, Jan drove, and Rodolph and I took a side each and hung on. It was strange, for some reason, driving down the dirt path through a neighbouring field (for some reason there aren't any fences here) past the kiwi vines, I thought to myself "this is the real thing, this is what life is like here". God knows why I thought that, it's not like I've seen countless images and films with french youth driving on tractors in their togs.
Rodolph decided to show us an even better swimming spot than where they usually go, and he was pretty sure he could remember how to get there... we parked the tractor, and within seconds we were fighting our way into thistly prickly stinging nettly hell, that somewhat resembled the overgrown hedges in the sleeping beauty cartoon that the prince has to get through to get to give Aurora true loves first kiss. Rodolph didn't have shoes on. It took us a lot longer than it should have to decide to go back to the tractor and find another spot.
The water was freezing, it being snow melt from the pyranees and all.

So anyway, today I struggled over John Updikes The Witches of Eastwick all morning until I decided I hated it. That probably didn't help my hangover.

Something I really hate about european keyboards is that the full stop shares a button with the semi-colon... But you have to push shift to get the full stop! That's just ridiculous. I've never even used a semi-colon! (because I haven't quite figured them out yet)

I kind of like stinging nettle. It's like spicy food for your feet. The first time you experience it it's too much, but it settles down to leave you with a comforting reminder that you have feet, and when the pain goes away, you want it back.

Im in the south of France, near the town of Bayonne, 50ks from the Spanish boarder. Im staying with a family who Ive never met before, and I fluctuate between feeling very comfortable and a little intrusive. Its made easier by my lovely sleeping quaters, a minutes walk from the house, in a little carivan. The window above where my head lies in bed, there is a glassless window, which caused for an interesting first nights sleep, due to the huge thunder storm. They sell flowers in the markets, so I try to help out with the moving around of pots (which is surprisingly often) seeing as though I have zero skills in the kitchen. There is aparently a river 20 minutes walk away that flows from the pyrenees. Theres a weird little chapel on their land that is so creepy, with falling down; faded and peeling biblical paintings, something from a horror movie. I need to get a cord for my camera to get photos off it... and I need to take photos.

The family slips in and out of french and english, they also speak spanish danish and I think one of them speaks vietnamese. Its enough to make you feel quite inadiquate (if my spelling doesnt already.)

Generally I sit around practicing and reading. I enjoyed Twilight and the second one a lot more than I wanted to...

I'm off to Bordeaux today. On the TGV. I remember the french lesson in primary school where we learnt about the TGV. I don't remember anything interesting about it or anything, it's one of those weird memories that you feel take too much space, like that space could be better off filled with something nice, or interesting, or scary. Oh well. I hope it's really fast!

I am so tired. I can't go into my room for anouth hour and a half, I've walked for way longer than was interesting or physically pleasant. Paris is a lot nicer in the summer, I've decided. I've had quite a few very succesful french coversations, which is always a nice feeling. Owen wants me to buy him a snow globe, but the truth is, I'm scared of the tourist shops. I walked past a thousand, each one I decided wasn't the one for me, even though they were all exactly the same. EXACTLY. They even had the same person working in them. An old man carried my bag, that was nice of him. Running out of internet. And consciousness. And spelling ability?

Last night at Taj Mahal, the man gave me free champagne when he overheard me refer to myself as the birthday girl. I felt like a liar all night.
Today the adventure begins. I'm driving to Katoomba for the winter solstice festival (druids and shit) I'll catch the train to Sydney tomorrow to see Deerhunter, then Monday I fly away. First problem: there is no accomodation left in Paris for when I get there. I'm sure there is if I search, but I can't be bothered.

This is the response somebody left to a thread about "Kida" the first "black" princess. The thread creator was saying that the term "black" refers only to African Americans.

Being black isn't ethnic everywhere. Aboriginal people are black, yet very much different from us Americans of African decent. They have blue eyes and blond hair. They are very similar to Atlantians in that regard. People in Australia call them black, yet here we call them Aboriginal. It's really all about perspective.

Pooing theives

At approximately 5:45 this morning there was a loud knock on our door. I almost ignored it, but then I realised that Heidi may have forgotten her keys and couldn't get in. In actual fact, there were two cops standing, as they often do on cop shows, one near the door, one a bit further away, looking off into the distance, talking into a walky talky.
I immediately thought "Heidi did something naughty, oh o!"
They asked if Elayne was home, to which I corrected "Elyane, yes that's me"
"Are you the owner of a silver Exel?"
"Yes"
"Should it be here?"
"umm... yes"
"Well, it's not. It's been stolen."
In my sleepy stupidity I decided that Heidi had stolen it, then they asked me if someone living here owned a white Holden, and yet again (sorry Heidi, I don't know why I decided you were up to no good in some way) I thought oh god, what did she do, do I have to "bail her out"?
"It has been tampered with"
I decided Heidi probably wouldn't "tamper" with her own car.
I went to wake Heidi up and tell her that the cops wanted to talk to her. When I told her, she said to me "Oh, I think I saw them steal your car. But don't worry, I didn't steal them."
OK Heidi...

Turns out "tamper" meens "pooed on" in the policemans dictionary. They broke off the fuel tank little door thing, and smeared poo INSIDE. Mike's car just had a bin on it. Lucky mike. They left a calling card of an ugly sock, one in Heidi's car, one on Mike's car.

My car is probably dead. We had some good times.
Heidi had to clean the poo herself.
Crossroads need to unite to find whoever did this. Heidi kept some of the stool sample for DNA testing, which will be carried out at UC.

The WEIRDEST thing is, after all this was over, I started watching an episode of "Peep Show" and it was an episode called "Burgling" and what do you know.... Mark goes over to the toilet....
Mark: Oh my god, they did a shit
Jez: Oh God, that is so.. why do burglars do that?
Mark: I think it's nerves, or marking their teritory
Turns out it was Jez, but still, coincidence!

Last night I dreamed that I was snowboarding (something I haven't dreamed in a long time) and there were two cute little dogs on the snow. I was trying to save them, and luckily I had two dog leads, but every time I tried to get them to move, a cow would try to sit on them.

Last night I dreamed that I figured out the cause of cancer - seamonkeys.

I have a cup of tea during the nightime movie, and yet again I remember how I react to even the slightest hint of caffeen. Caffee coffee, I cannot spell.
Wednesday night Jarmush, thanks SBS. Night on Earth, the one about the taxi drivers. I liked the Italian one, the cabbie was great, and I really enjoyed trying to work out some of the Italian words. Maybe Jon got annoyed with me repeating them over and over.

I moved all the words from my Tumblr to my blogspot. What a great way to procrastinate.

January 23, 2009

Tonight Chrispy got struck by lightning. Then Heidi and I played trash santa, where you load up a shopping trolley with rubbish, walk down the street at midnight, and put a bag of rubbish in each neighbours bins.

January 19, 2009

Dickson pool is nice, but it can make you feel like an old, creepy person. I like that if you are not swimming, you’re a spectator. A little boy wiggled his acorn in Jacqui’s face, said he was going to have sex with her, but she said no.

April 13, 2009

I heard the morningbirds when I was going to bed last night. I watched SIX movies yesterday. I wasn’t even trying to have a marathon.

Fast times of Ridgemont high was watched at about noon. I liked it, I didn’t love it.

The Clique was the first movie of the evening for Heidi and I. We love teen chick flicks. This one was a bit of a let down, because they tried to ‘break free of the formula’ which is just so dumb. Noone got the boy, the looser just ended up having friends… who wants to see that?

Then came the 2 small cups of tea which were the reason for my sleeplessness

Cocktails with Tom Cruise was the next flick. Ha. It’s confusing, because he was a bit of a dreamboat, but with the image of today Tom was fairly strongly imprinted in my head whilst watching. Plus he was a bit of a douche bag in this.

Poltergeist is a wonderful movie about ghosts.

Gattaca came next, and was probably my favorite of the evening. It was so pretty and yellow and the kind of movie I felt like watching again straight away. Uma Thurman.

Ghost World was last. I enjoyed it, up until my bladder decided to be completely full, and I didn’t want to miss any, or pause the movie. It was quite uncomfortable.

Then I slept for 3 hours and woke up completely unable to snooze, so here I am.

March 6, 2009

Hey Warwick, you cunt!

I was probably drunker than I should have been to perform… I like though, that when you learn a skill like playing music, that even if you’re too drunk to stand straight, you can still play pretty much just as well. Pretty much…

March 3, 2009

I was really glad that Pacey won over Dawson, good move Joey, good move.

The bootlegs was fun. I like Voss. RIP, Jed. Soon, anyway.

February 26, 2009

The Middle East

Last night was so fun! I wore Jon’s roller-skates. By the way, Jon is our new house mate, and boy is he nice! Anyway, I rolled to the front which was so fun, and then it was fun because everyone wanted to talk to roller girl! Then all of a sudden, one leg went one way, the other went the other, arms went flailing, which was bad because I was holding a beer. I got beer ALL OVER MY HEAD AND DOWN MY FACE, EW!

They were such a good band. And most of them were quite dream boaty! I have just realised that I would make a terrible music critic.

February 26, 2009

25 things about myself

1. I like to ride my bicycle.
2. I can’t stand power points that are switched on with nothing plugged in.
3. I have always had a thing with stickers, I refuse to stick them to anything, because I am sure that a better place will seem evident the moment the sticker’s been stuck, I save it for so long that I lose it.
4. I am constantly doing something with my hands, if I have nothing to fiddle with, I will crack my knuckles or tap my fingers.
5. If I’m not listening to music or playing music, there is music going round in my head, with no exception. It can be annoying.
6. I love symmetry.
7. I am an atrocious speller (tried my darndest to work out ‘symmetry’ without the help of spell check, to no avail).
8. Tail bone injuries are awful. My first was falling off a pony whilst doing a spot of jumping (I believe I was riding Stodgy at the time (as a kid, I never thought that was a unusual name)). The most resent was embarrassing. Roller skates and beer do not mix well.
9. As a child I was petrified of P.E. participation. I would do absolutely anything to avoid it; invent injuries, ‘forget’ P.E. uniform, forge notes, and if these wouldn’t work, and I HAD to participate, team sports I’d avoid eye contact with all players, that usually worked, or if it was having a go at long jump, high jump, anything jumpy or such, I’d keep going to the back of the line. I always felt I’d be ridiculed for being terrible at it, whatever sport it happened to be, thinking that my past failure to participate had rendered me far less practiced at sporty activity… thus causing me to avoid future participation. (If you got through this whole point, I salute you.)
10. I’ve never really understood how to use a semicolon correctly, and that really bugs me.
11. I don’t shower very often.
12. When I watch movies, I can’t help but see the extra’s as extra’s, sometimes I miss important expressions on central characters faces because I’m too busy looking at the extra’s trying to look natural.
13. I’d love to believe 13 to be an unlucky number, I love the idea of superstition, religious beliefs (not religion itself), and belief in the supernatural, however I never believe anything unscientifically plausible. That being said, I SWEAR I saw a ghost the other night, I screamed quite loudly.
14. I’ve been caught out by my computers spell check at least 8 times already for breaking the ‘i before e except after c’ rule. In #13 I wrote belief/ve 4 times wrong. Will I never learn?
15. I generally fail at recognising a new face until I’ve been introduced 3 times. It can prove to be quite embarrassing, it by no means means that I didn’t enjoy the first conversation, and I sincerely appologise to anyone who has had the privilege of seeing this in action.
16. I am so scared of spiders, to the point of retching, however I have no fear of being bitten by one, only of being creepy crawled upon.
17. My BFF is overseas, and sometimes that makes me sad.
18. I’d love to write music but I can’t write words, and that stops me. (I just tried to write ‘stops’ with two Ps.)
19. I’m enrolled in 9 classes. (8 of which are 3 point ones, still, quite a heavy work load… watch me fall apart this semester!)
20. I spend hours every day practicing classical violin, however I quite often get far more enjoyment out of band playing… for some reason that does deter me at all.
21. I am about to attempt to read Voss. Everyone in the band has read it, and there is an upcoming Voss festival, in which I am to perform… I think it’s time for me to read it… I fear it will be awfully dull.
22. I really enjoy Catholic pictures and statues, especially tacky ones. Holographic Jesus pictures are great. I have one, he’s on the cross, one image with head up, dying, one dead.
23. I love the french language, yet when the opportunity arises to use it, I freak out and speak english.
24. When I read a book, I can’t help but adopt the protagonists use of language. This was most fun when reading the Narnia chronicles, ‘do lets’ and ‘ever so glad’ are fun to say.
25. I really don’t know what I’d do if I went deaf. As overly dramatic as it sounds, I don’t think I could find my point in living. I’d rather lose both my hands.

February 20, 2009

My new student today was really cute… the first thing she said was “I love music lessons!” then I asked her where her violin was, she looked around, like it might just being lying out on the ground, and then looked confused… I asked if she brought it today, and she really couldn’t answer that, then finally said “I don’t think I have a violin.” then ran away.

February 8, 2009

Last night I had a long black at 8pm. At 6am I wrote this on my computer (I have no internet):

I went on a ant rid-rampage today.. now when I close my eyes, I see ants. (Ant rid is a sweet and [delayed reaction] deadly substance that you dribble along a well used ant track, they suck it up, bring it back home, and the queen dies It was quite interesting.) I had three locations. Two were in the kitchen, one of which was with the little ants, and one with the bigger ants. Not the bull ants, the ones a third their size. They reminded me so very much of cattle. At their busiest there were no more than 20. If I made any noise near them, they’d flee. But the little ones couldn’t care less what you do near them, and they flocked in their trillions. The third locale was the toilet, as weird as that may sound. Quite annoying, actually. The cistern is broken, we leave the lid off. There’s a busy stream of ants going in, and when you flush, after the water goes down to empty, it rises back above the normal level for a few minutes. This catches a whole bunch of ants, who float around waiting to be saved, until the next flush, when they get flushed down. So we quite often have a pool of ants in the toilet. Anyway, end of this rant, the point is, I close my eyes, I see ants.

I’ve been watching Dawson’s Creek. I watch too many television box sets. Anyway, there was a blair witch-esque episode, and it scared the bejeezies out of me, so much so that I had to pause it and go and talk to Mike for a minute. (Who, by the way, has spent the weekend in his cuttoffs, in nothing BUT his cuttoffs. Hello ladies.) I am so easily scared.

I miss Heidi. My computer says Heidi is spelt wrong. The suggested spelling that I like the best is Heyday. Heyday Freedom. Every time I try to write Freedom, I write Freedome first. I’m a terrible speller. Anyway, I hope Heyday doesn’t mind that I watched Dawson in her room, at 3am, tv blaring isn’t what Michael needs to hear.

January 28, 2009

Spiders are creepy crawlies.

When Owen chased the spider into my car, we went back an hour so later to check for it, and he assured me it was gone. I found that somewhat dubious.

A day had passed. I was preparing to go on another non date date with Brodes. We were going to see a movie, and I had to drive, national velvet is under the weather… Opened car door, leaned in to get something, felt spider web on my face, but thought ‘I’m not scared of spiders any more.’

As I was stepping out of the car, I looked at the door, there was a huntsman on it. I squealed at the top of my lungs, almost vomited, and began an embarrassing session of hyperventilation.

I soon calmed down (sort of) and decided that something must be done. I couldn’t leave my car unattended, the door was open, and I needed to keep an eye on the devil. My only real option was the damsel in distress option… I called Brodes and said I couldn’t come and pick him up, and that he’d have to come. Tres embarrassant.

I had decided that the reason there had been a spider on my car was because it had dropped out of a tree. So then I was too scared to stand under the tree, so I sweated my arse off waiting in the sun for Brodes.

The spider ran back into the car when I started to throw sticks at it. I’m scared of my car now, but that’s good for the environment.

January 28, 2009

Spiders are creepy crawlies.

When Owen chased the spider into my car, we went back an hour so later to check for it, and he assured me it was gone. I found that somewhat dubious.

A day had passed. I was preparing to go on another non date date with Brodes. We were going to see a movie, and I had to drive, national velvet is under the weather… Opened car door, leaned in to get something, felt spider web on my face, but thought ‘I’m not scared of spiders any more.’

As I was stepping out of the car, I looked at the door, there was a huntsman on it. I squealed at the top of my lungs, almost vomited, and began an embarrassing session of hyperventilation.

I soon calmed down (sort of) and decided that something must be done. I couldn’t leave my car unattended, the door was open, and I needed to keep an eye on the devil. My only real option was the damsel in distress option… I called Brodes and said I couldn’t come and pick him up, and that he’d have to come. Tres embarrassant.

I had decided that the reason there had been a spider on my car was because it had dropped out of a tree. So then I was too scared to stand under the tree, so I sweated my arse off waiting in the sun for Brodes.

The spider ran back into the car when I started to throw sticks at it. I’m scared of my car now, but that’s good for the environment.

December 31

Dear Diary,

today as I was crossing the road when the little man was red but there was only one car coming and I timed it well because I’m the worlds most efficient road crosser, I got honked at by said car and the lady pointed to the side of the road in a its-not-your-turn-go-back-to-the-side-of-the-road kind of way. What a bitchface.

ps merry new year