Sub-Tropical

7243

2011-11-12T21:50:00.001+09:30

Gah! Why did I commit to NaNoWriMo? I'll never do 50,000 words by the end of the month.

*Sob*

Not Much Scares Me...

2011-10-11T10:18:00.002+09:30

... but this does.

Stacey-Lee, I do not want a group booking.

Shoes!

2011-10-05T08:51:00.003+09:30

I ordered these from Modcloth on Saturday.

Gray needn't return from Timor, I've found me a new love.

Chop Ups.

2011-09-03T18:14:00.002+09:30

I mowed the lawn today. I would like to say that I did this all by myself, but that would be a lie. And lying is wrong. And so is your head...

Anyway, I had to get the neighbour to start the mower because I apparently possess no upper body strength.

Yet More Statistical Statistics

2011-09-03T18:10:00.002+09:30

W00T! Someone from Belarus visited my page! It is my favourite obscure Eastern European country of all time. Please feel free to come back and hang out my Belorussian friend. You are blessed with a thriving mushroom industry and the wonderful Max Mirnyi. You must, therefore, rock.

Statistical Statistics

2011-08-20T18:04:00.002+09:30

I've been whiling away the time while I'm too lazy to get up and put dinner on by perusing my stats. Turns out most random people get here by googling 'I hate Darwin'. I didn't know I had so many kindred spirits. There were also quite a few searches for 'trouser snake'. Giggle. Snort.
I'm now tempted to just throw in as many bizarre topics into my posts as my brain can muster up to see if people actually google them. A good idea or a recipe for disaster?

Toasty

2011-08-19T17:55:00.002+09:30

Like my new decor? Yes, it is actually called 'Toasty'. Although, as my fingers feel like ice at present, I couldn't really say it represents my current state of being.

Just For You...

2011-08-15T18:13:00.002+09:30

Here you go, Alex. I posted for you. Who knows, someday, I might even write a real post for you...

World's Best Job

2011-04-16T00:09:00.001+09:30

Okay. So I have just come off the world's best teaching job. I love the staff. I love the principal. I love the kids. I love the school. If I had no ethics I may well have kidnapped the teacher I was replacing just to stay there. But I do have ethics...really. Now I'm just praying for her to get pregnant. That's okay, right? A baby is a good thing for both of us, so I'm not just being a selfish so-and-so. Right?
Some of my students asked to friend me on Facebook which broke my little tiny heart into a thousand shiny pieces. I wanted so badly to FRIEND them, but i know that it could lead to problems as a teacher. And I VERY MUCH want to be their teacher again . My magical solution? I gave them my Twitter name, which may also lead them here. Publicness is cool, isn't it? You can't say anyone's my favourite if they're all here. Okay. OKAY?
Welcome them all, my friends, they are lovely.

Of nightmares and cold sweats

2011-03-13T16:53:00.002+09:30

In pondering on what might constitute a most crippling allergy, I decided that, for me, it would be high heels. How much does this say about my intellect or lack thereof?

Sneezing For Australia

2010-07-31T11:00:00.001+09:30

I have what you might kindly call a propensity for sneezing or what you might unkindly call a head full of snot. I think the grand sneezing fits and surgical attachment of my nose to tissues began sometime around the age of 10.

As a child I was quite healthy, so naturally I was jealous of all the kids with really cool and dramatic illnesses and injuries. I cursed my healthiness whilst I daydreamed of breaking my leg. Yes, I actually wanted to break a bone. I also thought asthma was exciting and my Mum's hay fever was just fabulous. I think I was slightly spotlight crazy. Mind you, I also thought that tubular metal park benches were the pinnacle of design. They featured greatly in my dream house. It's pretty amazing that I turned out reasonably normal when you look at that

For all my dreams of gruesome injuries my most dramatic ailment was a lazy eye, which doesn't really garner all that much attention aside from people looking over their shoulders to see if you’re talking to someone behind them. That does have it's benefits, though, because I can stare at odd looking people on trains and they think I'm looking at the poor sod trapped between them and the window. It is endlessly entertaining.

My best friend's family bought a hobby farm when I was about 10 or 11, which was just about the best thing ever. Aside from all the cavorting about in paddocks and being terrified of getting on the motorbike, this was also the start of my ongoing tussle with nature. Of course, at first I thought my newly developed hay fever was totally 'rad', until I discovered that my particular brand of hay fever never dies. I had pretty much the same reaction when I was diagnosed with asthma at 13, although I was relieved to finally be rid of my 'smoker's cough' as my stepbrother called it.

My allergies were never just your ordinary run of the mill allergies, however. Seasonal hay fever? Ha! If by seasonal you mean all four seasons, then yes, I do have seasonal allergies. In high school I was the go to girl for tissues which may have had a little to do with the box of tissues I carried in my bag. My mother began making jokes about how she should have bought shares in Kleenex. She still does. And I still hate it. Yes Mum, I'm using the internet to call you out on your hideous sneezing jokes. It's been 20 years, I've had enough already!

Slowness must run I our family, because whilst it has been 20 years for my mother still hasn't got the hint about how much I hate the sneezing jokes, it also took me 20 years to get an allergy test. There's a lot of faffing about in my family. I really have only one piece of advice for those thinking of getting an allergy test- do not get it the day after a long weekend. 72 hours without an antihistamine was never going to be great for a person whose main pastime is nose blowing, but try it over Easter. I apologise to all the people at our Easter dinner and hope that I did not sneeze on anyone's food.

It turns out I am allergic to the world. Which is bad. On the upside, I now have hypoallergenic bedding so I can breathe in bed. This makes me a happy little chicken.

On To Friday...

2010-07-28T19:55:00.002+09:30

I am often asked why in the name of all that is good and holy I would ever want to be a high school teacher. I am mostly asked this by my students and then, it is mostly the ones who would turn you right off teaching who ask. I'm guessing that they have difficulty working out why anyone would voluntarily try to wrangle them into writing poetry.

My general response to the quizzical looks and blunt questions is that, for some odd reason, I actually enjoy working with teenagers. I'm not sure, but this may be one of the first warning signs of dementia. It's not so much the poetry wrangling I enjoy (because I don't), rather it's the bit about helping greasy, snarky, vile teenagers turn into real human beings that gets me in. Although that is rather a long process

For all the screaming, spitting and swearing (me, sometimes the kids) I generally like what I do. Except for the times when what I do is relief teaching. Remember what you were like with a relief teacher? Yeah. At least once you get on the other side of it, you are smart enough to realise how stupid you were. The old answer to the wrong name on the role trick? I don't really care. First, I'm lucky if can remember the names I just called out, let alone which person they belong to. Second, I really couldn't care less who answers to what name as long as I've marked all the people who are here as here and all the people who are absent as absent so I don't get my arse sued off if someone robs a bank while they're meant to be in my class. Third, your trick is stupid anyway. Your teacher is smart enough to work out that the white kid responding to Than Nuoc Tran and the Asian kid responding to Habib Habibi might just be lying.

On Monday I start a contract. One that lasts for the rest of the year. Where I get to be a real teacher with my own classes and students whose names I know and everything. I'm looking forward to having Year 7s who worship the ground I walk on (because that's just what Year 7s do) and students who actually think that I KNOW something. Only two days left of being asked "are you a real teacher". Of course not, I'm an imposter, your real teacher is tied up in the bookroom and stuffed between ancient copies of Macbeth and Catcher In the Rye. This week, I am especially looking forward to Friday

I'm Not So Sure About This Dog Thing...

2010-07-22T18:17:00.004+09:30

I will begin by reminding/informing you that we live in defence housing. It is vital that you understand the way this works ie we take whatever house we can get our mitts on and are then stuck with it regardless of how we feel on the matter. Generally this hasn't been a huge problem, we have lucky enough to have some very nice houses with no gaping holes appearing in the bedroom floor. Actually, that's something they will move you for. Even defence don't want people getting out of bed in the morning and dropping through to the carport.
So, our houses have all been quite good, and we've considered ourselves quite lucky. Our current house is lovely, mostly. We have a nice, big, kitchen, which, despite is size, suffers from a great dearth of storage. This means that we have lots of bench space but no pantry to speak of. I just kind of throw food into the cupboard and cross my fingers that it doesn't all fall on my head the next time I open it.
Our yard is also lovely and big which is remarkable when you consider that we live in one of those horrid estate suburbs with 18 bedroom homes on blocks of land the size of a small car. I think the developers may have been a little bit stunned at having so much yard space as they seemed to have no idea what to do with it. Apparently they decided to just thrown down some turf and runaway to deal with more manageable yards that they could simply concrete over. I don't imagine this to be very entertaining space for a dog to spend all day in. The canine equivalent of watching Senate Question Time all day.
Our neighbours do not have a lovely big yard like us. They have one of the aforementioned concrete yards the size of a Barina. Ordinarily the state of the neighbours yard is suitably low on the list of "things I give a shit about" unless, of course when there are an awfully large amount of power lines running into their back shed or there is an odd odour emanating from behind said shed. In addition to owning a yard the size of a loaf of bread, the neighbours also run a child care centre out of their house.
Some of you may be starting to see where our problem lies. A small echoey yard, screaming kids and a colourbond fence do little to create a calm dog. Steffi does not like the noise. At all. She hates it so much that she has developed a new sport, a sport which involves throwing herself at the fence as hard as she can to STOP THE DAMNED NOISE!!!!!
The small children didn't seem to appreciate this. Nor did the neighbour who we like very much, but who is also absolutely shitscared of dogs. A bad situation for all became worse at about the moment that Steffi managed to pop one of the fence panels out with her acrobatics. Sure, there was not a big enough gap for her to get through, but that doesn't matter when your outrageous dog phobia has you convinced that the dog is about to burst through the fence and eat you.
Council rangers were called. DHA were called. I had a small heart attack. Then the astounding thing happened, our property manager suggested we ask for a move. I would never have thought of this as the only time I have seen anyone actually receive a move was in the earlier instance of the gaping hole in the bedroom floor. Spurred on by the giddiness of having a government worker on our side, we applied. And. We. Got. It. We have to move ourselves, but WE GOT IT.
Note: You may be propositioned in the nest few months with requests for help and offers of booze and pizza if you acquiesce.

A Bad Case of the Broken Mirrors

2010-07-08T20:47:00.002+09:30

I think I may have broken a few of the buggers. That, or majorly pissed off Thor, Dionysius and that Earth mother goddess thing from Avatar. I'll only offer a selection of the circus we have been living of late, any more and I'm afraid you, my dear reader, may come down with a case of the vapours.

We had a lovely little bit of online credit card fraud. A blessing reallly, as I like to stay on top of the trends and cyber crime is alll the buzz in the media of late.
Our gorgeous little Digger died. A disc in his back collapsed, crushing his spine. Poor little guy didn't even make it to five. I'm still not over it. I may become one of those odd people who keeps a shrine of their pet's ashes as I cannot bear to scatter them anywhere.
My grandmother passed out at Yum Cha. As this was only a few days after Digger died, I may have panicked slightly, or a lot. Turned out she just ate too much and over heated as she wore a jumper fit for an Arctic explorer.
Steffi crashed through the colourbond fence. Ahem. They are not cheap to fix.

I'm expecting better things. Soon.

Not at my finest

2010-05-05T18:15:00.002+09:30

I am none too happy with the big blue dot today:

The doctor says the Amazing Abdominal Pains™are signs that my body is doing a great job of fighting off a virus. rally? Is that the best you can come up with?
Steffi is barking at anything that moves today. That not only includes bugs and leaves, but also me and Digger for having the gall to sit on the lounge rather than play the "chasing around the house and crashing into furniture" game.
The allergy test was right- I AM allergic to yeast. I am currently paying the price for eating that pizza last night and have used the best part of a box of tissues today. Not happy about the lack of toast and pizza in my future (although Gray does find it very entertaining).
The aforementioned pizza also resulted in the anchovy bone that was lodged in my throat all day.

Ooh, here comes Gray with a nice big glass of red wine. I'd call it psychic, but it's a pretty good bet that I'll want some wine when my face bears an expression last seen on Derryn Hinch during the Shame Files.
Tomorrow, consider yourself on notice, you'd better be better than today.

Grand Re-Opening: Now With Added Soy

2010-02-10T07:43:00.004+09:30

Welcome to the official re-naming ceremony for the blog. I use the the word 'official' loosely. Actually, I use the words 're-naming' and ceremony loosely too, as I am not about to smash a bottle of champagne against my computer. The poor thing doesn't really need any more reasons to run slowly. I decided to stick with the "tropical" theme because of the branding *Snort* and I the fact that I am entirely unoriginal, however, I was deposed from my position as Queen when I left Darwin, oh, last March. Don't go accusing me of making rash decisions here.
I would therefore like to welcome you to my revamped home in balmy sub-tropical Sydney. The blog is also wildly sub-par, as is my intelligence, so the name really works on many levels.

Who Wants To Step Up?

2010-02-05T07:41:00.002+09:30

One of my favourite daily interweb activities is reading the NT News. I have never seen another newspaper with so much entertainment value. Who else has the journalistic integrity required to write those hard-hitting stories about crocs, car crashes and the bloke who only had one cheezel in his fun-size bag? That last one was not meant to be dirty. Honest.

The greatest section, by far, is Txt The Editor. It has that unique combination of public opinion and people who are unable to spell real words. Today I stumbled across this little gem:

I am a student at Taminmin high school, we are not allowed mobile phones at school yet with out bells we don't know when to go back to our classes and who is the snorkel who came up with this? jack, humpty doo

Are there any volunteers to explain the wonderful invention called the "wristwatch" to the young lad?

Is It Still Holidays?

2010-01-26T08:43:00.002+09:30

Does it still class as being on holidays when you simply don't have a job? I'm figuring that as of tomorrow I need to start calling myself an unemployed bum.
See, during school holidays I feel completely justified in claiming that I'm on holidays. I'm just on holidays from a non-existent job. I can't work when the schools are closed right? So, by default, I must be on holidays. It is flawless logic.
Short of one of those flukey calls from the department at 8:30 tomorrow morning miraculously offering me the perfect job, I think I may be waiting a few weeks for some relief gigs (come-oooooonn second wave of swine flu). On the plus side, I'm sure my joblessness makes me a prime candidate for a Today Tonight exposé. Finally, my dreams will be fulfilled!

De-jammied

2010-01-09T11:55:00.003+09:30

I like to tell myself that the reason I stayed in said jammies till midday was that I'm on holidays. But, you see, it's not really holidays when you don't actually have a job. What do I put as my employment status on surveys? Was I lying on the last census when I called myself unemployed even though I had literally moved interstate two days prior? How entitled am I to spend all day in my jammies? These are very important questions. Especially when you are "on holidays" and have loads of time to ponder crap.

Resumption of Normal Service

2010-01-09T09:36:00.001+09:30

Shall I return to regular posting? Yes, I think I shall. Stay tuned for more (when I get out of my jammys).

The Adventure Continues

2009-09-15T20:54:00.003+09:30

Preparations for the impending move to Sydney are in mid-swing. Meaning we're kinda ready, but we kinda can't really be stuffed doing any work because boy, oh, boy is there work.

So far the most exciting job has been cleaning the gutters. I can feel the breeze generated as you shake your heads in amazement from here, but hear me out first. These were not ordinary gutters, well, they were once, but no longer. They were more than mere rain receptacles, they were fully-blown ecosystems. There were plants with complex root systems in there. There was lichen. There were earth worms. Really, earth worms! This is what happens when you don't clean your gutters regularly peoples. One of the many joys of DHA housing- finding out what the people in there before you completely neglected before you and/or covered up with a bodgy repair job.

On another move related note, as I have been out of the tropics for over six months (and sometimes I think Melbourne is part of the Australian Antarctic Territory) I feel that I may ahve to tweak the blog title. Any thoughts?

Really? Really?

2009-08-24T15:12:00.002+09:30

What is wrong with people? Apparently, in some circles, it is ok to call someone a skank using global media. Can't see what could possibly go wrong with that. It would seem the moment people sit down at a computer their brains explode and they revert back to their five year old selves. Pfft!

All I can say is I hope the madness isn't catching.

The Joys of Army Life

2009-02-03T20:13:00.002+09:30

I am very happy that we are moving to Melbourne, but I am not so happy with the way a certain division of the army has dealt with the situation. They shall remain nameless, however, I will refer to them as the Mushrooms from Melbourne (kept in the dark and fed on s**t).

An introduction for those not inducted into the dark and bizarre processes of the army. Any course longer than 6 months = posting. Any course under 6 months = stay in a dorm room alone. Gray's course was originally 4 months, but was changed to 6 months last September.

The Mushrooms from Melbourne were given the paperwork in September about the posting. They seem to have thrown it directly into a vortex however, as they were under the impression that Gray was just going on a 4 month jaunt to Mexico. He wasn't.

So here we sit, 5 weeks to the day from the start date and the Mushrooms have still not given us the posting order despite much yelling, protesting and tantys from all quarters.

On the bright side, we know we're moving so we finally bought some hedge clippers and trimmed the hedge. And this will be the last house we ever live in with a hedge.

The (Not Quite) Twelve Days of Christmas

2008-12-17T11:01:00.001+09:30

I thought I'd post my twelve favourite things about Christmas in honour of the 12 Days of Christmas. However, I got a little sidetracked so this is somewhat late.

1. Christmas shopping. I know that sounds mildly insane, but I actually enjoy it. I love buying people gifts, of course the shopping centres are pure madness. I just sit down and have a coffee if it all gets too much.
2. The excuse to eat all the seafood my body can handle. One moment, just have to wipe the drool off the keyboard there.
3. Christmas is the one day of the year where I can spend hours eating and watching TV without that pesky feeling that I really should be doing something more productive.
4. Bad Christmas specials. Pay TV really cranks it up a notch. Gray and I have been watching an increasingly crappy series of Christmas Documentaries on the Travel Channel this week. Fantastic.
5. Putting the decorations UP.
6. Rolling around on the lounge after lunch clutching my stomach and groaning.
7. Hard sauce. Sure it's about 98% fat, but it is delicious.
8. The glut of junk mail we get at this time of year. I do love a good catalogue.
9. Seeing all my family which is fantastic and I can't wait to get to Sydney on Sunday.
10. Christmas Cracker Hats
11. Christmas Cracker Jokes
12. Stupid headwear- Santa hats, reindeer antlers and the rather fetching sparkly red cowboy hat with fluffy white trim I saw at the discount shop yesterday.

I'm now officially full of festive cheer.

Queen Lumpovina of the Grass Seeds

2008-12-10T17:33:00.002+09:30

This week Gray and myself received a fabulous Christmas present. A $700 vet bill. Steffi's unceasing desire to chew everything in sight has finally backfired.

On Saturday morning I noticed a rather large lump on the side of her head. She wasn't howling in pain or sleeping any more than her usual 16 hours a day so we thought it'd be safe to take her to the vet on Monday. It was safe to take her to the vet on Monday. Expensive, but safe. Turns out Ol' Chompy had managed to get a grass seed into a cut, which had then turned into an abscess and then become fibrous. She had her lumpectomy yesterday and is now trotting around the house crashing into everything courtesy of the plastic collar to stop her scratching the stitches.

I know that, in theory anyway, it's wrong to laugh at someone in pain. I just can't help myself though. She is getting the collar caught on absolutely everything, including my legs. Every time she tries to lick my legs I get more contact with the plastic than with her tongue. Ont eh upside, we can't lose her. All we have to do is listen for the crashing sounds.

Kids Today

2008-12-04T18:39:00.002+09:30

I know I'm going to sound like a grumpy old fart here, but I really don't get kids sometimes.

How is a fart funny? Did I ever laugh when someone let one rip? I don't remember finding it funny, but I guess I must have. The kids actually wanted me to kick someone out for being gassy yesterday. I figured that as a I can't punish them for breathing, I can't really eject them for popping a few smelly ones.

Things I also don't see the entertainment value in:
1. Breaking pencils
2. Throwing pencils
3. Throwing paper
4. Throwing bags
5. Making humming noises that annoy the other students more than the teacher
6. Calling everyone and everything in sight "so gay"
7. Creating your own tag - hours of fun for all budding criminals
8. Staring into space instead of doing the "boring" work
9. Not being able to read because you spend every lesson staring into space
10. Banging on walls

Call me a doddering old fool, but I just don't get it. Now I'm off to place my order for a hotted up, neon green Zimmer frame. If I'm going to get all old and cranky, I'm damn well going to do it in style!

I'm a Cold Weather Bunny

2008-11-25T08:00:00.003+09:30

So I woke up this morning and for just one tiny, lovely little moment I thought I was in Montreal. Then I realised that the traffic noise was just my airconditioner and the cold was also just my airconditioner. It was gorgeous there for a moment. I was in a place where the nighttime temperature drops below 29. I was in a place with real shops. I was in a place where there is a great dearth of I Fish and I Vote and Forced to Work, Live to Fish bumper stickers.

Then I came tumbling back down to Earth. Harrumph.

When Is Too Early?

2008-11-23T16:39:00.002+09:30

Is 9.30 too early for bed on a Friday night? I fear that I am becoming old before my time. I'm already halfway there anyway, what with my love of Midsomer Murders and all. maybe I need to go out, do some Jager shots and dance on a table to reverse the process. What say you?

More on why I hate Darwin.

2008-11-21T18:48:00.003+09:30

So it's hot. Incredibly freaking hot. Stick your head in the freezer hot. Oh, and did I mention the heat?

Also, the headline of Tuesday's paper was Trouser Snake on a Plane with the following photo:

I think you all get the picture.

Dear God, why me?

2008-10-03T16:04:00.002+09:30

So I arrived back in Darwin on the red-eye after six lovely days in Melbourne. I knew the rot had set in from the moment I got on the check-in queue, for one thing, I was queuing with Darwinites. Just to enlighten those people who don't know, and invite some flaming hate mail from Territorians, that means a bunch of people with no sense of humour and very little patience or understanding. I could go on here, but I don't really have the time or inclination to go into the reasons why hanging with the Darwinites makes me feel like I'm back in high school again (and not in a good, no job or responsibility way, more in an everyone is staring at me because I just said the wrong thing and don't fit in with the popular crowd way). Instead I shall discuss one of the other joys of the Territory - cane toads.

All was well when I got home last night- Steffi was so excited Mummy was home that she was running around in circles and was not frothing at the mouth from playing with one of her favourites ugly, slimy, living toys. After a good half hour being slobbered to death (Steffi) and having my nose chewed off (Digger) I took myself off to bed and slept without the aid of an airplane seat. Yay! This morning, however, as I was taking the rubbish out I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye. It was too small, slow and dark to be Digger on another escape attempt so I didn't really pay much attention. Until I realised that it looked distinctly toad like.

My first thought was that I had never seen one out in the daylight before. My second thought was, great, now I have to pick it up. Things just got better from there. As I watched it, I realised that Toady was not hopping so much as dragging. Yes, that's right, we had a paralysed cane toad in our yard. I can take a pretty good guess as to how it got that way- involving something brown and excitable that loves licking feet. One should always start the day by disposing of poisonous fauna with broken backs

On the bright side I have now confirmed my theory that the cane toads aren't killing Steffi because she just plays with them until they no longer move enough to amuse her, thus not ingesting enough of the poison. Who woulda thunk that her sadistic streak/criminally short attention span was a life saver?

Damn Gray!

2008-09-08T20:18:00.002+09:30

So Gray is away till the end of October on a course. Whilst he gets to lap it up in Melbourne (read: get away from the frikkin' heat), I am left on dog patrol. Or, more specifically, cane toad watch. The week before Gray left, Steffi got two of them. Which is fine, we can tag team. With Gray gone, it's a whole different story. I don't mind chasing a very reluctant dog around the house with a wet tea towel so I can scrub the flesh from her gums. That's fine, it's a sport really. The real problem comes when I have to dispose of the blasted creatures myself. I am not strong of stomach and having to even look at a dead animal is enough to send me screaming for WIRES.

The cane toads are slimy. And ugly. And half dead. It really is a very special form of torture.

And they wonder why I'm counting down the minutes till I leave Darwin (it's a lot by the way).

It's too early!

2008-08-31T15:31:00.002+09:30

Looks the build-up has decided to arrive early. The humidity has been getting higher all week. Not crazy high yet, just 60-70%, but I keep an eye on the Weather Station dooby-thing we have sitting on top of the TV and it is definitely rising. Very soon it will be up in the 90s and my glasses will start fogging up every time I walk outside.

I'm sure I must have done something to upset God/Gods/Karma, take your pick, why else would the worst season of the year in this hell hole come early? How can I make amends? I'm thinking of offering some corn, or my first born. Just kidding about the corn, i would never waste food.

Gray left for a course in Melbourne today so he will be enjoying a nice spring for the next two months whilst I lay comatose and pants-less in a pool of my own sweat on the lounge. I've seriously got to get to work on those sacrifices to appease the deities of your choice.

Dogs are evil

2008-08-20T20:24:00.002+09:30

I love Steffi, I really do, but she does love to create mischief. She dug herself a great den out the front of the house so she can snuggle up in the cool earth. I'm sure it's lovely for her. What isn't lovely, however, was the reaction of the DHA inspector. Steffi is now working on how to pull up the chicken wire. We should just rename her Destructo and be done with it.

She is currently ignoring me completely as she tries in vain to get at the cats' food. Poor Abby, between Oscar eating everything in sight and Steffi's ongoing obsession with that yummy food on top of the freezer, I'm surprised she actually gets to eat on the odd ocassion.

To make me feel better Digger is cutely curled up on the lounge trying his hardest to get a little sleep.

Insulting Politicians

2008-08-11T21:23:00.002+09:30

So yeah, I managed to offend a politician on Saturday. I'm somewhat proud, but also somewhat mortified. Politicians are used to being insulted, so it tkaes some work to offend them.

I was doing my usual election trick of steadfastly avoiding eye contact with all the crazy people handing out "How to Vote" cards out the front (this time donning sombreros WTF?). Turns out one of them was actually a candidate trying to greet me and my response was not "Hi", but "No". He was quite offended (although was sombrero-less). Maybe this will teach me to look at people before I'm openly hostile.

On a more ridiculous note, there were only two candidates in my election, so the how to vote cards were a rather large waste of paper. How else was I going to direct my preferences?

Voting day

2008-08-09T12:00:00.002+09:30

Who do vote for in an election that you don't give a toss about?

Damn compulsory voting.

All the Fun of an Election Campaign...

2008-08-05T18:32:00.002+09:30

So with only days before the Northern Territory election, which I'm sure has all of you on your the edge of your collective seats, I'd like to share with you some of favourite political chicanery from recent weeks:

Sticking an "L" plate over someones face. We must never elect anyone with no experience you see, although I'm a little stuck as to what we do when the incumbent finally croaks and we have nobody with experience left. I think I have the vapours.
The brilliant banner I saw slung up across the road from the service station while we were wrestling with the joys of renting a trailer just to get rid of the damned palm fronds (they are evil I tell you). I believe it read something like this "Honk! If you want safer schools and sustainable development." Now there's a call to arms that's up there with the whole I have a dream thing.
My local member seems to be having a barbecue in the park EVERY SINGLE WEEKEND. Where on earth is the man getting all the sausages from? Is he backed by the meat industry? Should I expect to see some men in blue aprons dancing past my window shortly? (On a side note, I did love those meat ads)
The candidate who lost his seat at the federal election and is now trying for this one. Like that annoying kid who wants an invite to your birthday party in primary school, he figures that if he just keeps bugging you, eventually you'll have to give in. To further my suspicions his slogan is "Dave's My Mate", I wonder if he just thinks we've got the really cool lolly bags with the sherbies and banana lollies

I have come to be extremely glad for a three week election campaign, although it has reduced the amount of free comedy for me, at least I don't have to pretend I care for very long.

I Love A Long Weekend

2008-07-28T20:40:00.000+09:30

That will be all, thank-you.

I really should pay more attention

2008-07-22T20:31:00.003+09:30

So it turned out that yesterday was a pupil free day. Didn't pick up on that one until I walked into the staffroom and talked about my classes. Apparently the lack of students on the grounds wasn't a good clue for me. Nor for that matter was the principal telling us about it in the staff meeting last term. In my defense, staff meetings are a special kind of torture. Maybe if they gave out chocolates. And wine. Yes chocolates and wine. I may or may not pay more attention but at least I would always be on time.

I also failed to notice that the NT government called an election. Not that I know a thing about either party anyway. A few weeks ago I did a phone poll about the possibility of a Territory election. I believe my responses went a little something like this:

Poll-y Person: Who did you vote for in the last Territory election?

Me: Wasn't here.

Poll-y Person: What issues are important to you in a future election.

Me: None. Don't care.

Poll-y Person: Who would you vote for if an election was called in the next two months?

Me: Dunno.

They must have been thrilled at my responses. I think I was incredibly valuable to their research. I am truly a poller's dream.

Pretty Shiny Things

2008-07-17T17:05:00.005+09:30

I went a little crazy today with the shopping. I just meant to buy a printer cartridge and get my rings resized because this damn heat has made my fingers puffy- more on that later. I may have somehow ended up buying some clothes and shoes as well. As we all know, if there is one thing I need more of it is shoes, 40 pairs just ain't enough.

So I got this pretty skirt from Portmans:
And these shiny sandals from Witchery, although they are silver with white trim:
As I said, pretty and shiny.

Onto the story about the rings. I can see those of you who know me wonder why it has taken me two years to realise that tight rings are a bad thing. I would like to say that I am just really tough, but the truth is simply that I am incredibly lazy. So what made me move off my lazy arse? I was watching Fire 000 last night and they had to cut a ring off a woman's finger. Yes, it took that to make me realise that it may be a good idea to be able to remove my jewelery with intervention from the emergency services. Although that would one to tell the grandkids...

Why Does It Go So Fast?

2008-07-16T17:44:00.002+09:30

I am very upset, the new school term is approaching. I only have a few days of holidays left. I think I may have sabotaged myself with this whole thing by leaving all my planning until the last minute. I only have one lesson planned so far. But i did buy some shiny new text books so I'm trying to convince myself that makes up for it. If I say it enough it's true.

Gray got his course date today for the basic signaller course. he starts on the first of September which is fantastic because I get to keep him for an extra month before he goes. Yay! I think his course will run over school holidays too so I will be able to visit him. Rarely is the army so (unintentionally) accommodating.

Am I Too Old To Throw a Tantrum?

2008-07-12T21:52:00.003+09:30

I know that it is childish and immature, but I want an iPhone and I want it now!!! Yes, I am shallow, it is pretty, but I'm also a Mac lover so that's my excuse. What's yours?

I can't get one till next month when my contract expires though which is infuriating. The real reason for my crankiness is the problems my current phone seems to have. The stupid thing runs out of battery in a few hours if I don't have reception. Why is that a problem you may ask? My house has metal walls and thus crap reception inside. Maybe my phone just doesn't like Darwin either...

I still think this whole problem can be solved if I just throw myself on the floor in the middle of Woolies and start crying and thumping the floor.

Yay For Me!

2008-07-11T11:28:00.002+09:30

I'm going to Evoo for the degustation dinner tonight! I am so very excited. And this time I won't be throwing up my entire meal in the restaurant bathroom shortly after. Classy, I know. I'm sure the other people in the bathroom thought I was just really drunk.

A nice meal AND no gastro. Score!

All Full of Passy Goodness

2008-07-10T15:18:00.002+09:30

I'm all very excited (but still a little disappointed). Gray finally passed his fitness test so he will be off on his corps transfer course soon. I'm happy he finally got through it, between bush trips, crippling foot problems and awful gastro (which I may be a teensy bit responsible for) I was beginning to wonder if it would ever happen. Mind you I was kind of hoping in a perverse way that he would fail so he could leave the army and we could move back to civilisation. I know it's wrong, but I don't really care.

So now I'm stuck here for another year, but Gray does get to follow his dream, so I guess I can put up with it. I'm such a martyr.

A Long Time Between Drinks

2008-07-09T23:13:00.005+09:30

I have returned! I would compare myself to a certain religious figure but I might be fined for annoying Catholics. I would like to thank Bec and Andrew for my return. Not only have their travels around Europe inspired me, but their blogging has inspired me to resume my insipid ramblings.

So where are we in the story? Darwin is driving me mad. The heat, the fruit loops. I have taken to reading the texts to the editor as a hobby. The insane ramblings about Southerners are a sight to behold. Who needs Harry Potter when you have such gems as these...

"Wanna no wot I find hilarious? Southerners that think they can come 2 Darwin and make a name 4 themselves. When they realise they can’t, they are hurt and feel it’s necessary send a Darwin bash text 2 the paper. After they have finished sobbing, they go back 2 mum’s house."

"Who are these clowns who have been calling themselves locals after 5 years or so. Been here 4 20 yrs and i know that i am not local. As far as I’m concerned yr either from here or yr not, and we know who they are."

"Southerners will never take over the territory cause most run back home to their overcrowded hell holes. Keep your eyes closed and keep running."

Who needs sitcoms? I have my very own. (And it is surely better than Two and a Half Men any day.)

The Start of Something Big?.... or not.

2007-03-01T20:23:00.000+09:30

Today I spent my first day as an official bank teller or "member service consul ant" if you want to be a bit of a wanker. I must say that it was quite a relief to start after 8 interminably dull days of training. We all know that corporate training could be used as a form of torture on David Hicks (maybe it is...), but it just gets worse when you have a fill in trainer who doesn't really know how to do it. If I have to listen to one more person read the entire contents of hand out to me, so help me god, I will not be responsible for what I do. Yes, you heard right, no explaining in her own words, or summarising key point, just reading the entire effing sheet! Over and over and over till you want to burst your own eardrum to shut her up. It was basically a really bad powerpoint presentation stretched over a week and a half.

I am still missing Gra. Three months is rather a long time. Two weeks down, ten to go. I'm going to get all sooky on y'all (hehe, southern speak) now. It is just that much harder because I haven't really had the chance to make friends up here yet. It may have been a tad easier if I had found a permanent job faster or if the people at Darwin High had actually communicated with each other beyond saying hello in the mornings. Ah well, maybe I'll just wear dark glasses and practice being aloof.

I'm also wildly cranky that I missed Bec and Andrew's annual Oscar party. Making bitchy comments about Nicole Kidman's ridiculous freaking bow to Digger just isn't the same. The heathen has no appreciation for fashion. Pigdog. And it doesn't matter how many times I explain the rules to Steffi, she just doesn't understand the Oscars drinking game. Of course the biggest loss is no pajama-clad latecomers. It just doesn't cut it.

I'll just have to win the lottery. That's really the only thing for it. According to the "Rules of Attraction" which the rich and powerful (or 'they') have been keeping secret from us mere plebs for centuries, all I have to do is believe it will happen and it will be attracted to me. Come to me lotto, come to me, you know you want to.....

Graham is Leaving Me!

2007-02-08T09:56:00.000+09:30

Greetings family, friends and random onlookers,

Welcome to my first post. I have set this up for two reasons-

So that I can tell you all my news at once without having to send those incredibly irritating, 3-page long group emails.
It gives me something to amuse myself whilst Graham is away.

This brings me to the first bit of news. Graham has to go on a three month training exercise is S.A. next Friday. Yay! It's even better when you discover that we only found out three days ago. I'm honestly not sure who will have it worse, me, stuck up here in the Tropics on my own, or Gra, stuck in the middle of the South Australian desert with a bunch of incredibly bored blokes.

At least I have the furry babies for company. We have been taking them down to Mindil beach (it has famous markets in the dry) for walks this week. Digger loves everything about it, Steffi kind of does, but we literally have to drag her into the car. Steffi spends the whole drive there looking anxious while Digger runs gleefully around the car getting slobber all over the windows. It's low tide when we go, so there are quite a few puddles of sea water along the beach, I love watching them drink it then splutter, then repeat it all 10 seconds later at the next puddle. It gives Digger a nice break from his hectic schedule of chasing lizards and sleeping on the patio furniture.

In stark contrast to Digger, I am currently wearing myself out with watching TV, wandering around the shops and surfing the internet. Unfortunately, this thrill-a-minute lifestyle will all be coming to an end soon as I start my new job on the 19th. It will be nice to actually have an income again....

Ciao Ciao