Schappelle

Poor old Schapelle Corby, nine years in jail for a crime that is barely a crime at all. You've got to feel, kind of, sorry for her, losing her mind and all. Stupid Indonesia should review its ridiculous laws.

Not that I really care. If you think I do, you are mistaken. There are still many more people in the world who have bigger problems than Schapelle does.

Essentially, it is still just a first world problem. She still has plenty more of her life to live and in which to be happy. She is still coming out the other end relatively intact. She can adopt. With the world's over population it is probably best anyway.

If you like, it has probably made her life more interesting than it would have been otherwise. (2023 - seriously? I know) What was she, a nails and makeup girl from the Gold Coast. Raised eyebrows. Perhaps, her father, or whichever, alleged, bogun family member put the pot in the boogie board, did her a favour. There aren't many people who have lived the life she has lived now. Pity, she probably isn't smart enough to enjoy it.

She'd probably disagree, but that doesn't mean it isn't true.
Really, the world has expelled far too much energy on her anyway.

It was a long hot afternoon that they chose to ride all the way out to the hills and back. Murray carried all the supplies they needed in a hi-viz back pack, because Jerome just couldn't be trust with such things.

Cool n Sexy

It was hot all night. The house was hot. Sam, Buddy and I slept in the bedroom together with the air conditioning going. Buddy is so cute, he started off on his mat in the corner, but that didn’t last. He was soon on the bed lying with his head on a pillow stretched out, as comfortable as you like. Too cute. Sam took up the other half of the bed. I got the outer edge to cling to, like a ringtail possum on a tree branch.

No, no, don’t mind me.

We were slow getting out of bed this morning. We all clung to the clean bedclothes. Buddy his pillow between his paws, Sam his pillow between his paws, me the doona. Morning came too quickly. We collectively groaned. It was a slow morning, the house was like a sauna, which always slows you down. Well, it does me. I wanted to stay home, but that is not any different to any other morning. We were late leaving the house. The house was stuffy, airless. It was hard to dress without sweating. My shirt was stuck to my back as I left the house.


There are some sad slappers on the road, I tell you. I’m sure it is the “fearful” thing. Conservative politicians ethos keep them scared and they’ll look to the politicians to look after them and they will buy things to make themselves feel better. And that of newspapers, keep them nervous and they’ll buy more news service product to find out how bad the world around them is.

I was coming down Victoria Street in the left hand lane, which makes the punters nervous. They don’t like it when you drive down the left hand lane, they are scared you will cut them off. You don’t need to cut people off, however. I don’t need to I am a smarter driver than that. There is always an opportunity to change lanes whenever you like, when some other driver isn’t concentrating. (There is always some dope who isn’t on their game, you just have to watch out for it) But it is what they are fearful of you doing. It is what they think you might do. Cut them off, out smart them, I guess. It makes them look like fools, I assume. Their plebeian competitive spirit fires into action.

Suddenly this slapper in a white Toyota Corolla was tooting me. (is it just Corolla drivers?) I looked in my rear view mirror and she was nowhere near me. Really? I thought. Idiot! Then we got to Church Street and she had to pull in behind me. I looked in my rear view mirror at her and thought, you stupid cow. She had lips of string. She gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. Her eyes were wide, as if she was desperate to say something to me. It was as if she was trying to out stare me. And she had a bad hair style.

I laughed at her and she tooted again.

The lights turned green and her competitive spirit cut in and she tried to race up on my right hand side. Enough, I thought. So this time I cut her off deliberately. And, you guessed it, she tooted again. I took no notice of her, again, until I was turning right into Burnley Street, when she went roaring by. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” sounded her horn.

Oh die bitch, I thought. Go be scared, fearful, uptight some place else. Really? Please tram, as she is looking in her rear view mirror basking in her victory over me, take her out.


Oh the new boys in the Sales Dept. Two new guys who have started recently in the Sales Dept were sitting in my seat in the lunch room. Rude! I thought. I sit in the lunch room and write my journal on my laptop at lunch time. Just me. Nobody else sits at the kitchen table, no, never. But, you know, it isn’t my kitchen, even if the Sales Dept have their own more spacious kitchen and my the one they were sitting in is the finance kitchen. Still, the two of them were pretty cute, one was a very nice piece of arse, so what can you do? One was a strapping wog boy and one was a hot Asian boy. I perved on them while I was heating my lemongrass chicken. Handsome face, sexy arse. I imagined them both in their jocks. As I was picturing the thickness of the wog boys shaft lying sideways in his underpants, he looked up, smiled, and winked and nodded. Are you telepathic, I thought.

I guess I should be ashamed for objectifying them so, but that is how the world turns. We seem to be forgetting this in the 21st Century. We want to fuck each other, so that is how we look at each other, mostly. We are supposed to want to do exactly that. It is called the continuation of the species. It is a point the modern woman seems to be missing now a days. No seats in the kitchen, so I had to sit outside, which probably isn’t a bad thing. One becomes a mole if one isn’t careful. Indoors all day. I’m sure it is good to get some sunlight on the skin. Actually, I know it is, as the doctor told me with my recent blood test.

“Your vitamin D levels are low.”

“Oh, really doc,” I replied. “Low vitamin D and a shitty liver?”

Grrrr! Eat less fat. Do more exercise. And no doctor I don't drink. I actually don't drink at all. Now that is two liver tests and two doctors who don't believe I drink. Still, neither of them have seemed so concerned about it. Still, I must look into this “liver thing” little further. Take responsibility of your own health, it is what I always say.

I sat outside on the tables and marvelled at the changing weather in Melbourne, looking at the grey sky, feeling the chill in the air. I liked it. The cool. The grey sky. The cool breeze. It made a change to yesterday. It made a change to huddling around the air conditioner last night.


My lemon grass chicken was fantastic.

Hot Sunday

I was awake at 8am, early for a Sunday, I know. Sweating. Soaking my t-shirt. Wetting the pillow. I don’t know why? I think I act as a Coolgardie Safe when I am in bed on a hot night with the fan blowing on me. Shrug. I have always been a sweater.

I washed the bulldog, before I headed off to visit my mum. I wash him and Sam dries him. Although, Sam does stand in the bathroom and direct me. There was a bunt smell when I came downstairs. Unfortunately, I left the coffee on the flame. I made coffee just before I headed to the bathroom to wash Buddy, but I didn’t extinguish the flame after I put the pot back on the stove. Oops.



(sister) Roz text, Are we still going to see mum? 

Do we have to? I responded. I wasn’t feeling it. Quickly followed by, Yes. Guilt. Do the right thing, blah, blah, blah.

Roz said later that she hesitated when I questioned it. But then I said yes and she kept moving forward. She and I visited mum. I'm not sure that mum knew who we were, she certainly didn't when we first got there. Still, she looked well. We took her out into the garden and sat her in the sun. She has always loved the heat. We chatted away, she seemed to listen. You don’t know.

I was home by midday. It was sunny and hot.

I was sent to the supermarket to get coffee. Apparently, Sam was too exhausted from cleaning to do anything. He always thinks that, of course, he does more than me. Aren’t all boyfriends the same? I objected, but that was met with a sweeping hand movement and an, “Off you go.” Hand pointing towards the door. 

I went to Sunny Bakery and got pork rolls. Three. One and a half each.

It was too hot to do anything, the afternoon was one of those drifting kind. The day was locked out, the windows covered. We watched the Great Gatsby. I liked it. Sam liked it. He thought Daisy was a bitch and that Jay was lovely and that Nick was in love with Jay. I told him that I didn’t think there was any gay love involved.

We drank tea and ate hot cross buns – fruit and chocolate.

It is hot outside. We’re sitting inside in front of the fan, all three of us eating yogurt ice creams. Sam wanted to be healthy. They don’t really taste like anything. Fucken yogurt!

You've got to love a green tree against a blue sky. If you don't, you must be dead inside.

Spent The Afternoon In The Sun

The weather has been gorgeous. It is a shame that the news networks see fit to sensationalise it as much as they can in, essentially, a negative way to boost their ratings. 



“7 days over 30 with 40 on the weekend. Heatwave!”



“Another scorcher ahead for the next week.”



“Everybody is going to burn!”


“Another week of unbearable heat!”



Human nature is to tune into disaster stories more so than happy stories. Truthfully, the weather has been fabulous. Why can’t the news networks say, 



“Sensational weather on its way.”



“Everyone is in for a sunny treat.”



“Great weather to come.”

The weather has been sensational. Sunny, blue skies, sparkling days. It’s been great. Even tomorrow, which was reported to be 42, or 43, or 1000, is now going to be 39 and will probably be a great day too.

Don't you get sick of the news service constant negative sensationalism? Pow! Pow! Pow! The world is FUCKED!

Pow! Pow! Pow! Buy our newspapers and we will tell you exactly how fucked it is!

We ate Vietnamese – mini pancakes, broken rice and some meat dish, also rapped in lettuce leaves and mint. Sometimes, don't you just want to eat your food rather than construct it? The food was first, of course, it's very important. Two pretty boys came in with their girlfriends halfway through lunch, which didn’t hurt.

Shopping seemed to take forever. Walking, walking, walking. It took hours. Walking, walking, walking... consequently, we now have some chicken thighs that I think will kill us when we eat them. Still, Sam saw the doctor and I got a haircut. So things got done. I’m very happy with my haircut.

The shopkeepers and traders and the druggy boys all seem to cohabitate. The druggy boys race up and down the footpath, seemingly, with important business and places to go. The shopkeepers never seem to notice, they never even seem to acknowledge them.  I tried to get one shopkeeper to react one day by rolling my eyes, but she didn’t, not even for a microsecond. It was as though she just had to get on with what she was doing.

The hot shirtless druggy boy with the great body dashed up and down. He only had on tracksuit pants that hardly stayed up, not enough to cover his gorgeous round arse or blue jocks. He looked like he should have been fronting the Chilli Peppers. At one stage, he had an obvious itchy arse and he stuck his hand down the back of his tracky pants, just about uncovering everything, and scratched his hole by inserting, what looked like, his whole finger right up his arse, oblivious to all and everybody looking on. I exaggerate not. He had the facial expression of a bitch dog pissing. I gazed at him and wondered if I needed some amyl and a sit down while I enjoyed the show. I tried not to stare, but what are you to do?

The sun shone down gloriously. The sky was blue. It was a great day!



We came home and watched Hangover 3, for the afternoon, it was stupid funny. I kind of like the style they have managed to maintain for the "pulp" Hangover movie franchise. We returned that and Jobs, the over nighter we watched last night, to the dvd shop before 7pm, like you are meant to. We walked Buddy down Smith Street for his exercise. Short walks are kind of advisable for bulldogs. He’s very social, always wants to say hello to everyone.

We ate two different types of pork, roast and BBQ, with Bok Choi. And rice, of course.

We watched This is the End, what a stupid movie. Good stupid. Another end of the world movie. I like Riahanna falling down a crack in the earth. How they got all the stars to appear in it I don’t know. I think Jay Baruchel and James Franco are both cute. Jay's got a great voice. 

Sam thought it was shit! Despite, laughing some of the way through it.

Capitalism in operation, right there

I'm Always Holding Things Up

It's a lovely, sunny morning. I'm writing quickly because Sam and Buddy are upstairs taking a shower, well, not Buddy, he'll be stretched out across our bed, but Sam is. And I am supposed to be up there getting ready too, as we are going out to eat before Sam goes to the doctor to get a lump on his leg looked at. (There is a touch of the hypochondrias about that boy) 

But, I just wanted to say, pinch punch first of the month. Do you believe it is February already? Fuck ay?

Oh, here he comes, I've got to go.

Bettye Lavette sings.

"You always keep us waiting, always... move!"

Of course, I can always charm myself out of... Heading upstairs now. 

Later.

Is graffiti an exotic name for scribbling on walls

I'm Lucky

Sam snores and I lie in bed next to him listening to him as I fall asleep. That is why I never understand all the whinny pants who say their partner has ruined their sleep for the last 30 years. Or, those people who spend half of their married lives sleeping in the spare room.

Of course, I am not saying it isn't true for them, as so many people say it is their truth, so obviously....

I go to sleep, practically, every night listening to Sam snoring. Snore, snore, snore and that is about all I remember. zzzzzz. Apparently, we both snore.

We both fall asleep really quickly, both of us. If I'm not asleep in five minutes of my head hitting the pillow, I wonder why? I can be chatting away to Sam and he'll go quiet and I will say, 

"Hello?"

Then, in the silence of the dark, I'll get that ka ka ka ka of his nose in return.

It makes me smile. That's my boy.

So, all you complainers who complain about your partner snoring and keeping you awake... I don't know... sorry life is that way for you. 

I had an exboyfriend who used to put rolled up bread in his ears if he couldn't sleep, he had nothing else, so I guess I'm lucky. People have told me that, but I never take any notice. So many people have trouble sleeping. I'm glad I I’m not one of them.

I am lucky, I know that, but it has little to do with sleeping. A great boyfriend. A nice house. A great country (despite the current government) A beautiful dog.

Sleep is what I do best. It is what I am best at. It is really the only thing I do well. It's true. It's what I do best.

You know, when you lie down for so long you get that lazy, relaxed core feeling? That is my favorite feeling in the world. That lazy feeling. That totally relaxed feeling. I'm lazy, okay we all know that. But sleep is the best, I know that much.

I want those clean, simple, stylish lines

The Mornings Are Depressing Enough As It Is

I like sleep in the heat at night, it is an adventure. I don't mind how many times I wake up, I kind of like them, they are like the stops on a journey. I don't mind how many times I wake up, because I fall back to sleep so easily. I'm just awake for a moment, for a glimpse, for a look around, a summing up of how the evening is going. Why shouldn't the evening be as interesting as the day? I ask you? Then it is zzzzzz. It draws it out, makes it last longer. The mornings are depressing enough as it is.

Riding along the trams tracks

Dreaming In the Night

I had a driving dream. It was in a huge four wheel drive ute, that was a van. We drove through the night, we drove through the day. 

Then there was an opening in the side of the van, which was a slot at first and it kind of opened up and one had to stand very straight in it up against the side of the van wall to have a shower. The trim was silver metal with big rivets. I looked down over it to the bitumen of the road.

I woke up it was 4.35am. The fan blew. It was now quite cool. Air blew in from the open balcony door. Sam had pulled the doona over the two of us, it was very nice, cozy, I felt lovely and comfy. The light was shimmering and hazy at the same time all over the ceiling. I looked around and took special note. “What is it like when I wake up from my dreams?” It was quiet and still. The night shimmies with silence.

Then I dreamt about doing financial calculations on a tiny calculator and I kept messing it up.

The CEO (who may have been the queen) came out and told me she was waiting for the results. I continued to mess it up. The calculator was tiny, but the office and the office furniture were all huge. I was working in front of huge windows that looked out over the city. It was like one great big pokie machine. Big square frames, one by one, the tumbling fruit was life passing by beyond the windows.

Then I woke up a minute before the alarm, as I normally always do.

It Is Summertime, And The Heat Is Oppressive. But Hey, We're All Riding The Streetcar Together

I woke at 2am last night. Bing! Awake! I looked at my watch, it was going to be a long night, I thought. The fan blew directly on me. The sheet covered part of me. It's unusual for me, I normally sleep no matter what. 

I’d had unsettling dreams and I was awake. There was the usual one of failing at school. I hate that dream. Then I lay in bed thinking about work. I pulled the sheet over me, the fresh breeze blowing on me. The back of my head wet, the pillow damp, moist pillowcase, smelt of sweat. I was wondering if I was employable? What do I know?

I dwelt on all the things I couldn’t do, all the things I couldn’t offer a potential employer. Until I thought I was going to go mad lying there in the heat. It's funny how dark things can seem in the middle of the night, when you are unable to sleep. My forehead beaded. My t-shit stuck to me.

It felt like I was never going to get back to sleep. When I did I had more dreams. I’m sure there was one with Chelsea Brown in it, wearing a dark suit with white cuffs and collar. She was telling me to strike a pose. I woke again. It was still hot. I tossed and turned. It was still dark outside, so I knew it was still the middle of the night. The bedding felt damp. The air thick. Sam snored next to me. I turned. I turned again. The sheet stuck to my wet back. My leg slid out from under the cotton material, the fresh fan air felt cold. The fan blades whirred. I hate the heat, I thought.

Then I dreamt of not being employable.

I woke again, ah, what seemed like not long after, but the dark was breaking into light, the curtain of black had been pulled back somewhat and I could tell it was nearly time to get up, morning was here. The alarm sounded. Sam nudged me. "Get up. Did you sleep well?"

"Kind of."

It was going to be hot again today, so we left Buddy inside.

It felt hot at 8am as I left the house. What did they say, it is going to be 300 degrees all week?

 

When I came out of work at the end of the day, I don’t think I have ever felt greater heat. Whoosh! It felt like walking into an oven.

I got home and Buddy was lying beside our bed next to the fire place. He was hot. He was panting.

We had KFC for dinner, the $9 nine piece Tuesday special. We went to Woolies first. I wanted to go to KFC first, but Sam insisted. As he says, he is always right.

At least we didn’t have to cook… which is a little disingenuous, as it is Sam who cooks.

I Made Cake

I broke out the Kenwood and I made banana cake, it was too hot to do anything else, just something indoors. Besides, I had rotten bananas. Of course, there was the potential heat from the oven, but one has to be a little tougher than that, think Cake Making Guild. Tea and warm banana cake for breakfast, for Sam anyway. I ate it for morning and afternoon tea. We ate the lot, the whole cake, all of it, yum yum. I wonder why I'm getting fat? I found a recipe with many eggs and plenty of butter. You don't want some namby pamby tea cake that tastes as though it had a banana wafted in its general direction at some point. You want to taste it.

We headed out into the garden this morning, but even quite early it was getting hot. We drank tea under the macadamia tree. We're lucky that our garden is quite shaded with trees, all hanging over from the neighbour's yards. Other than that, we spent most of the weekend hiding inside from the heat. Lolling around. Wafting. Watering plants and cleaning and washing. Sounds grand, now doesn't it?

The light was crisp, the days sparkled, the air was thick with heat, all weekend. The house felt summery, still and bright. We swept the back yard and the front yard and messed about in the garden. And we slept a lot, dozed. Sometimes it is just nice to rest, you know. Lovely it was too.

That was my long weekend. The dizzy heights. No, it was nice, gentle. The beach would have been nice, but we both hate the heat, we're suited like that. Of course, if the sea was just across the road, that would be different. Still, with global warming, Fitzroy may one day be beach frontage.

Typing Into The Night

Typing in the night. Typing by the light of the screen. A twenty first century Christopher Robin, halfway up, halfway down. I can contemplate the world from there. Something about stairs, maybe it is the conduit powers, flowing from here to there, from up there to down here...

I quite like that moment, when you turn off all the lights and are heading to bed, and it is just the incidental light, from the moon through a glass roof, or a street light through a window that lights your way. There is a certain unique realness to it.

Chairs

Aunt Vi had bright orange chairs around her avacado green laminex kitchen table in her 1950s triple fronted blond brick veneer in Cherry Street Box Hill North

Morning Light

The hush of the early morning light

6am

6am solitude, the glow of peace

6am

As the tranquil morning starts to turn light

What is the Vision?

I can't quite believe how brazenly this dishonest Liberal Party is imposing their ideology on Australian irrespectively of weather it is good for the country, or not. Is that a vision for the country? Screwing the environmental controls, every one? Suggesting Christianity should be imposed on Australian education? Pissing off our closest neighbours with their own conservative fear mongering form of political racism? Screwing over renewable energy development for the mining industry? Giving us an inferior broadband network to keep Rupert Murdoch happy? Attacking those on welfare while giving the rich hand outs like expensive parental payments? Seriously, giving couples marriage counselling vouches which is, essentially, the imposition of their Christian beliefs by stealth. The vouchers to do what exactly? Putting men who have contracts with the government in charge of the Commission of audit of government policy? Cutting the taxes on the rich and most likely increasing the GST? Probably giving that over-wealthy Rinehart woman wages reduction for her (foreign) workers, or mining leases in pristine countryside where there will no longer be any environmental controls. Mr Rabbit said he’d take it up to the Japanese over whaling and he’s met the Japanese twice and said nothing … the list goes on… 

Medicare. If Medicare is costing more, raise the Medicare levy, the rich pay more, the poor pay less, the way it should be. Don't introduce a flat tax that is inherently more expensive for people on lower incomes.

The aim of government is surely to make society fairer and more equitable for everybody and yet so many of the policies of the Abbott Liberal Government do the exact opposite. It is as if their intention is to make the rich richer and the poor poorer.

A nice piece of arse

Ah, I have to laugh. The things I was thinking, as he looked over at me

 and gave me a wink, this morning at the traffic lights,

 just as I was thinking how he'd look out of those red shorts.

What's Wrong With Me?

I can pretend that (the name of the company) interviewing for my role without as much as suggesting that I could apply for the role doesn’t affect me, but it does. Let’s face it, what other conclusion can I come to but they don’t deem me suitable for their shitty little job. 

I lay on the couch tonight and felt miserable. I let it affect me, nonsensically.

It is stupid, really. It is not even a job in my skill set. A job that I am not good enough to do? That’s what it says to me.

Shake of the head. I know. But not to be asked? What else am I to think? I’ve been doing the job for 6 months.

It is stupid me feeling like that too because I don’t want a job I have to drive to. If I get a permanent role, I want it in the CBD so I can walk to it. That way I get exercise as I travel to work. (My HR boss) Isaac is a nightmare. (My finance boss) Cathy is difficult. (Oh, I don’t know why I feel that way, it is probably quite unfair) (My finance colleague) Christine is lovely. I like (My HR colleagues) Shayleen and Cate, but they are likely to leave anyway, they are young and smart. Shayleen certainly will. 

I am being ridiculous, I realise, as I don't even really want the role. But I still can't help but feel miffed. Why are we human beings such complicated creatures? Essentially, I just wanted to be asked. Then I'd could happily turn it down. Work that out?

It is the quarter finance/three quarters HR role. I have a foot in each department, but mostly I am in HR. And it is boring. It proved to me what I have always suspected about HR, they make an awful lot about very little just to justify their nonsensical jobs. Essentially, it is girl's continually justifying their existence.

Now, if it was purely a finance role? (as exciting as that sounds now that I look at it in print)

Cathy got up and was dizzy some months ago and I have been hoping she has a stroke ever since. (she is such a highly strung social climber) Then I could work with Christine, in a finance role I am qualified for. That would be cool. (Again, unfair really, quite hard arsed. But Christine is just much more of my type to work with. I’m much better with the laid back ones. Cathy is too uptight)

But, of course, that is a different job altogether.

You know, I’m lucky, I get to leave. None of them are really happy there. Isaac makes the department unhappy, like all HR directors he is all over the place like a mad woman’s shit. I don’t want to do PDRs. I don’t want to be responsible. I want to be free and leave when I want and work when I want.

But, it would have been nice to be asked. They are probably doing me the biggest favour, in all reality, as if I was asked I might have said yes and then regretted it. This way, I get to swish out and be gone.


I still feel pissy about not being asked, though. Pathetic, hey?

The new gateway to Victoria Street, cool isn't it

Who Put the God Botherers in Charge?

A friend of mine gave me an interesting opinion on why he thinks the Liberal Government thinks that global warming is crap. Translation - why the Liberal Party is crap. Why the Liberal Party doesn't care about the future of all your children - how could anybody who disregards the future of the planet so completely care about anyone's children?  My friend also tied it to why the Liberal Party has gotten rid of every environmental control Australia had in place above and beyond the, so called, mandated carbon tax removal?

Tony, the misogynist, Abbot is a devout, practicing, committed, whatever you want to call it as it all means the same thing to me, christian. The Indonesian tour boat operator is a christian. The fat one with anger issues who lies about the finances, the post op transexual who deals with foreign affairs, and, as we know, that... um... idiot... guy from South Australia. They are all christians, it is what they don't like to talk about. 

The proper question for any journalist to ask a member of the Liberal Party is not, "Why have you broken every election promise you made?" No, it should be, "So what part did god play in your electoral win?"

This is the reason why they think global warming caused by man is crap. It's all god's work, so therefore it is not something any of them have to worry about. So they don't have to do anything about the environment, they don't have to think about it, because it is all in the hands of god. It is all god's will.

It is why what the federal government is doing makes no sense. It is because they are leaving out the main incentive for what they are doing. Jesus. Like so many modern day Christians, just never mention that you are a Christian and continue on regardless attempting to influence the world. People are always turned off when you mention the C word.


I don't know really, but something has to explain what this idiot Abbot Government is doing. I found what my friend said kind of interesting. I'd never heard it stated quite so plainly before. Essentially, you can absolve yourself of making the big decisions, because god is in charge anyway, but, I guess, that is the basis of all religious belief, now isn't it?

I think all religion is nonsensical, based on nothing but myth, but I'm not against people finding comfort in whatever it is that comforts them. Some people find comfort in astrology, some people find comfort in ouija boards. I don't think it matters which supernatural force it is that you chose to believe in, they are all as relevant as the next one, as long as you find something in it to bring you happiness. Allah is just as relevant as Harry Potter if it brings some comfort to your life.

It is just when those personal supernatural beliefs are used to influence public policy that we have a problem.

I'm not sure if I buy it, though. I would have thought the Liberal Government were too busy licking out Gina Rineheart's cunt and sucking Rupert Murdoch's cock to have a thought out position on anything else.

It is troubling, though, that the gay... er... um... shall we say effeminate one (apparently, he has a wife and kids? Who'd have thought?) in charge of education has appointed some guy, who has been discredited by other educators, to review education, who has already said that the school curriculum is too left and that there is a greater need to teach religion in schools.

The critics have said that this education review has all the hallmarks of a brainwashing and propaganda mission to let the education minister impose his extreme right-wing views on Australian students.

Who said, when it came to election time, that giving the other guy's a go couldn't hurt?

Sam and I working from home. You've got to be careful when you have a bulldog. They get heat stressed. It has been so hot for the whole week that we both spent the day at home looking after him. He spent four days inside.

The golden morning sun

Buddy and I walking at 7am

I like the early morning

Don't forget, the Liberal Party thinks Global Warming is crap

Apparently, global warming will be characterised by extreme weather events. I guess Mr Abbott and his bunch of… um… er… ministers will not change their view from that of global warming being crap until we have such extreme weather events. 


You know, until America is plunged in to a deep freeze where if you leave your face uncovered for any length of time your skin will freeze. Let's say when it snows in Texas. When extinction rates rise. (Okay, not strictly an extreme weather event) Or the sea ice collapses in the arctic  Maybe when the Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets both lose mass, along with most glaciers worldwide. When there is extreme heat in Australia that is so extreme let's say Adelaide is declared the hottest city on the planet.

Maybe when Portugal, China, Hungary, Finland, and Britain, all record heat waves. When the temperature in some place like Death Valley, hits 54.0C, the hottest temperature ever recorded on Earth. When Shanghai records 40.6C, the highest ever temperature recorded in 140 years of records in that city. When Brazil suffers its longest drought, maybe followed by massive floods.

When warmer Europe experiences massive rainstorms. When as much rain falls in a few hours in central Europe as normally falls in two months. When Czech Republic, Austria, south and east Germany, Switzerland, Slovakia, Belarus, Poland, Hungary and Serbia all experienced heavy flooding in what are described as once in 100 year rain events. In some places in Austria, 150 to 200mm of rain fell in a day. That’s one day.

When there are massive floods in Sudan, where more than 250,000 people are forced from their homes. The region around the capital, Khartoum, is particularly badly hit, with at least 15,000 homes destroyed and thousands of others damaged.

Or when hail falls in Cairo, snow in Israel, Syria and Jordan, and record high temperatures are recorded in Scandinavia.

I guess until such extreme weather events happen, the Liberal Party is justified in dismantling every environmental control Australia has ever put in place. Including the marine park protecting the Great Barrier Reef and the World Heritage Listing on Tasmanian forests. Because, until these extreme weather events happen, we all know that global warming is just crap.

pink flowers against the bright green foliage, just lovely

We're melting

It is hot. Too hot to write anything.

43 degrees today. 44 degrees tomorrow. 40 something on Friday.

All of that is followed by a cool change. Yay!

We pay higher electricity bills than we have ever paid, and yet those people who run the power companies can't guarantee the power supply on the high usage days. WTF?

So what did privatisation do for us? Privatisation gave the executives of the power companies huge salaries and gave us record high power prices. It makes no sense.

Sympathetic architecture? I don't know what goes through some people's heads?

A Job In Hand Is Worth More Than A Job Promised

I was asked today to work longer, at my current assignment. I was to finish the end of January, but they want me to work longer, on a week to week basis, while they interview new people for the role. Miss maternity leave has just confirmed she won’t be returning. They don't know when they want me to work till. 

“Is that okay?”

I said yes. What else could I say? I wasn’t expecting them to ask me that, I didn’t have any time to think. I was looking forward to finishing in a few weeks, I wasn't entertaining about any other possibility.

And I heard myself saying yes. Yes?

So why did I say yes?

Cate asked me later when we went outside to see how hot it was. “Why did you say yes? I was watching you as Cathy asked you and it was evident to me that you wanted to say no.”

“I don’t know.” Shrug. “She kind of sprung it on me.”

“Do you want to stay?”

“Not really,” I replied. “If I am going, I’d actually rather go, move on and find a new role.”

“You should tell them.”

“I know.” My head spun. The sun beat down. It was like an oven out there. Rats, I thought.

Back To Work

Boo Hoo! What happened to the holidays? They are over. What happened to that bastard TattsLotto win? What happened? Sad face.

The traffic on Victoria Street was sparse, this morning. Lovely. There were signs all the way down the road that said something about a road closure. I kept thinking I should read them, however, I could keep going, so I did. Nobody stopped me, so I didn’t stop and I didn’t bother to read the signs… thoroughly.

At work by 8.30am. Everybody was late, complaining about the Victoria Street bridge being closed. I don’t really want to be there anymore. How many days have I got to go? End of Jan. Onward and upward, that is what I think. On to something new. Next.

There has been little talk of late from Cathy about me doing a more long term role with them. Permanent, you may say. I know this is often only in my own head, but I feel as though my lustre may have worn away just a little. I don’t know. But eventually I get bored and I am sure that shows to those who are employing me.



I don’t know? Is it all in my own head? Or, at least, does it start in my head but then become a reality I manifest because of the way I am feeling? I’m sure it all starts with my insecurities?



I don’t know?



Did I create this?

Maybe I am just bored?

The female I am doing the maternity leave for confirmed today that she will not be returning.

At the beginning of this assignment I was looking forward to her doing just that. Now, not so much. Sad isn't it. Three weeks to go.

I'll need another week, or two off when I finish. (Don't tell Sam – let see if he is still reading my blog) I'll be calling Jack around the middle of Feb to see what he has for me.

Cool Chevy

Chev Fleetmaster

The Hot Week Is Baring Down

Sam rearranged the bedroom to fit the air conditioner next to my desk, so it was out of the way. I was still asleep, practically. 

“Ra ra ra ra, all go! Do, do, do”

What, it is Sunday? My eyes hadn’t opened yet, I was like a newly born puppy. What are you doing? I pulled the doona over my head.

Sam insisted on buying an air conditioner for next week and the heat wave. I told him it was a waste of money and that he was being a baby. Wasting the world’s resources, sending the human race to its demise and all that. Sam still wanted it. 

We got the top of the range model. I don’t know if it was that Bunnings is a huge cave of a building, or that we didn’t really know what we were doing, but what looked like a perfectly reasonably sized machine seemed to double in size when we got it to the car. By the time we got it to our bedroom, it had turned into a power station from the Yarra Valley. I wanted to take it back and get a different one, but Sam was determined.

So, first thing this morning, he made it work. Good for him. Lovely, out of the way.

 

What a glorious day it was today, sunny with a blemish free blue sky. We walked into Lonsdale Street and ate ramen. Ramen with fried chicken, yum, yum. We had soft shell crab too, because we ordered when we were hungry, we should know by now not to do that. The soft shell crab was rubbish, tasteless.

We went to QV and shopped, mostly at Big W. I protested telling Sam that it was a non-allocated shopping day, as we shopped yesterday. Sam would have us shopping every day, if he could. I hate shopping. Sam wanted smoke alarms for the house. I’m not sure why he wanted them today? I don’t care about smoke alarms, I guess I should, but I just don’t. Kill me now. Smoke alarms, bored already. I got lost in the DVD section. I nearly bought Interview with a Vampire (it was $5) and a Katherine Hepburn box set, but at the last minute I decided that more movies on DVD I just didn’t need.

 

Then we spent the afternoon re-potting plants. I have a lot of indoor plants that I haven’t attended to for a while. (hang my head in shame) I bought bags of potting mix cheap at Bunnings yesterday. I have a glass-roofed atrium under which my indoor plants are dying on the very hot days. I put some unsuitable specimens in there, some time ago, temporarily and they have taken two steps forwards and one step backwards ever since. I googled what plants grow indoors in a sunny, hot position and it seems to be some herbs, and pelargoniums. So, we top dressed and rearranged the plants in the afternoon and moved some around in readiness for the 40 degree week we are apparently having next week.

I moved the lemon-scented pelargonium and the glorious multi-coloured pelargonium inside. I think it would be lovely to have flowering plants inside. I moved in the mint, the rosemary and the jade plant. I’ve been growing the lemon-scented pelargonium just for inside, I want the lemon scent to waft around inside.

I took away the spider plants, the begonia and the big umbrella tree, which burns in the very hot weather, before next week’s hot weather. They’ve gone for a well earned rest in the back garden.

It is nice to have a change. We don’t change our interiors nearly enough. I think even the slightest change can make things seem new and different. My atrium has been looking less jungle and more plant retirement home for some time now. I want to get back to the lush green look, not only does it look great, but it smells fresh and wonderful.

The sun shone down gloriously. I watered the back garden in the late afternoon when we had finished the re-potting. It is therapeutic to water.

Tomorrow, I have to go back to work. Yay!

Cool Mercedes, I've never seen this model before

Silver Mercedes

CLA200

Blood Tests And Then Coffee And A Muffin

I've just been to have my cholesterol and prostate blood tests. Oh, please don't let my cholesterol level be too high. Shudder.

I should have been healthier.
I should have done more exercise.

I stopped smoking again on Thursday, so that is a good start. I read in a magazine while I was waiting for the doctor that smoking increases cholesterol. I knew it didn't help, but I didn't realise it, actually, increased cholesterol.

I bought a new pair of running shoes, but I haven't been running... oh, I wish, walking. I've been sitting on my fat bum all week doing very little. I was so going to exercise while I was on holidays, but I haven't.

I haven't had my cholesterol tested for, um... er? I usually have it done every year and I keep saying that I missed my test last year, however I suspect that isn't, exactly, true. What I am saying is that I missed my test in 2012, as it is now, in fact, a new year. So, realistically, it means I haven't had it tested since 2011, which could, actually, shrug, kick the ground, mean not since 2010.

Oh, I don't know now. The years fly by and the time disappears and suddenly it is eons later. I still think I am 25, let's face it.

I used to go to the gay clinic in Fitzroy, which used to cost me $60 a visit. $70 a visit. It was going up in price all the time. And for that, I had great trouble seeing my doctor of choice, usually having to wait weeks to see him.

I went to that clinic for years, from the beginning of the old clinic in Carlton. My doctor used to take my blood. Then they had a nurse that used to take my blood, but still at the clinic. Then they stopped taking blood altogether and sent me to Dorevitch, or one of those pathology clinics and, of course, that was when I stopped having blood tests. I meant to go, I really did, but really, it was hard enough making a doctor's appointment, let alone turning the whole thing into a two-step process, first the doctor and then the blood clinic. And my blood tests ran off the rails...

Now I go to Doctor Johnny, who bulk bills and it doesn't cost me anything. I can usually make an appointment with in days of wanting to see him. I can always see him on Saturday, if need be. And today, he actually took my blood like a doctor, I didn't have to go and see somebody else. I just have to go and see him next Saturday for the bad... er... um... good news.

So, last time I had my cholesterol tested it was 7. But, as with my brother and sister, I have very high good cholesterol and 7 has never really been a problem. Cross my fingers.

I Took Buddy Into Work

I quit smoking today. Finally. How long has that taken? I can’t remember. I just looked it up in my journal, it has been since December 06^th. Bad me. I’ve had all those smokers around me, Xmas and New Year. Weak as piss, I know. It’s been a bad season for it, the Xmas season, the silly season for booze and smokes.

There was no Buddy on the bed this morning, probably best. He is already getting the idea that he can retire to our bed any time he likes and it is no longer a treat. We, I, have created a doona monster, actually, it is the pillows he likes. Mr lush puppy.

Sam wanted to yabber on, standing over me in bed looking down, at 7am, but I was comfortable.

“I can’t hear you.” 

I told him off last night for being a nag and he had pretended not to speak to me since. Can’t we keep that act up, I thought? At my sleepy morning best, not speaking is preferable. He pulled the doona off me. Grrrr!

But, I slept in, anyway, it was glorious. I woke at 10am, or near enough to. I so love it when my sleep-in mojo returns to me, I have been so long without it. It is so relaxing. It is so glorious. It is so lazy. It is so dreamy and luscious. And I love it.

I wrote a bit of journal. I’m trying to keep it up. It is too hard when I leave it for a week, I can’t remember it by then. It has gone.

Then I took Buddy to the dog park. When I got to the park, I pulled out my phone to look at the time and it was 11.11. Buddy ran around. There was a gorgeous Frenchie named Lilly. There were greyhounds and Labradors 

The sun shone down with some heat. Bulldogs tire quickly in the heat.

A Golden retriever tried to play with him as it was about time to leave, at which point Buddy ran over to the water bucket, drank and then stood at the gate. He looked around to see where I was as if to say, Come on, I want to go home now. I’m done.

I took Buddy into (company name) to meet everyone. We all talk about our dogs, so I thought since I was in the neighbourhood. Alli the receptionist jumped up and patted and cuddled Buddy and said how beautiful he was. It felt strange marching through the company hallways with my bulldog buddy. Cate and Alice and Christine were in my office. They all jumped up and patted Buddy in the middle of the room. Cathy and Shayleen were at Laverton, sadly as they are two of the biggest dog people. I got buddy a dish of water in the kitchen. Alice came out with me. We said hello to the accounts department, as we were leaving. Buddy is very social. We saw Valerie on the way out. It was fun. Cool. I liked introducing my little mate around. I have spoken about him so often.

I went and looked in Blah Street for my neighbour Gordon's new house. And while there weren't any houses with boards up with for sale signs on them and while I didn't know the number of the house that my neighbour Gordon has, actually, bought and, sure, I may have missed the only nice house in the street, there is nothing nice in Blah Street that I would yearn to live in. Maybe no 27, at a pinch. A modern double story town house… if that is you want.

It was a hot day. 33 degrees.

I talked to Mark on Skype. 

Mark thinks that, maybe, my neighbour Gordon, quite possibly, is running from old age. A new house, a new beginning, a new life, everything new… maybe?

Mark’s depressed. He’s upset about his son Fen. He feels ignored by boyfriend Luke, who is smoking a lot of pot and is either studying, or on Facebook. And with his father, Rich’s death, he feels his mortality and he feels as though he doesn’t have a lot of time left.

I ended up watching, What’s My Line, in the afternoon. Bad Christian.

We ate Indonesian chicken.

Sam cooked Beef Rendang at the same time for tomorrow night’s dinner. Yum.

This was the only flower photo that Buddy didn't photobomb