Mmm.. Hoagie

A WHAT-ie?

I stumbled across this earlier today on the inter-time-sucking-net, and thought it sounded amusing, particularly for the commenters out there!

Check out the Hoagies blogging awards!

It's kind of like the HACAH awards here, but different. Same, but different. You know? Hee. Plus, mine are invisible, so the Hoagies have got me beat there.

So go and check it out, email Heather with some nominations and have fun. Because everyone loves a faux gold turkey trophy. And the prize? Is in jellybeans. What's not to love?

Anyone lost their undies?

Did I mention that I put my hand up to do a swimming scheme with the kids this year?

Because I am a nut and don't have enough to do already this term. Nobody else would put their hands up for it though, and I felt bad about that, so I offered. It's basically the standard "learn to swim" programme for kids that don't get a chance to do it at home.

It runs for 10 days. (!)

Excuse me while I keel over. I know, 10 days. WHERE I MISS OUT ON 2 HOURS OF TEACHING TIME WITH MY KIDS. Have I mentioned I have reports to write, accreditation to start working on, and resumes to make up?

Regardless though, I went along today and despite the craziness of having ten minutes to split my kids up to different classes, make sure they had their work and bags and all that AS WELL AS shuffling 46 swimming kids and their lunches, goggles and the rest onto the bus, it all went pretty smoothly.

Gorgeous day, so gorgeous that I actually went against my better instincts, and got dressed in my gym shorts and a daggy long shirt so I could jump in if I needed to. It was so nice that I was actually hoping the instructors would ask me to get in and help. But alas! No help needed today. Bugger. What's the bet the day I'll be asked to assist will be wet, cold and miserable?

High points would have to be seeing them all so excited to either a) Get in the water at all, b) Splash around like loons or c) Swim a few metres by themselves. Plus, they are a great group of kids that we've got, and I have another teacher with me to keep me occupied. Perhaps I can burn my palest of pale legs to match my red nose?

Low points though? Leaving my kidlets behind and missing out on teaching time. Also, bellowing like a mad-woman into the girls and guys changerooms because the kids are too busy flinging wet towels at each other to get on the bus to go home. And the four extra pairs of undies and swim shorts that we ended up with at the end of the day.

Where did they come from?

Are they breeding?

Are the school children's change rooms a spawning ground for evil underwear demons that are planning on taking over the world?

I do not know. But I have 9 more days to uncover all the facts for you. SUMMER!


By the way, speaking of SUMMER, nobody bothered to mention that SOUTH KOREA IS IN THE NORTHERN HEMISPHERE. Shit! Because I am a dork who figured it was not THAT far from Australia, I assumed they would be in summer weather in January too. Um. No.

These are the average temperatures for January in South Korea. Courtesy of Google, of course.

Hours of Sunlight: 6.
Average minimum temperature: -9o celcius.
Average maximum temperature: 0o celcius.

WAHHHHH! (But yes, I'm still putting a resume in.)

Just call me Rudolph

Psh! The perils of trying to get fit!

I went out for the afternoon to a backyard barbeque for one of Jason's workmates. Would you believe that this is the first time I've actually met any of them, despite us being together for over four years? Crazy. They have apparently called me "The Invisible Girlfriend", implying Jase made me up. Ha!

So of course beforehand, I was trying to get the whole dutiful girlfriend vibe going on - stressing for ages about what to wear, trying to get my hair nice, you know, the general paranoia of the most shy social butterfly ever.

I had a great time! Despite the hot / cold / just decide on a damn temperature sort of weather, it was very small and the guys were very friendly. I didn't feel uncomfortable at all, which was nice. Add in a table tennis area to keep me occupied, as well as a yummy double tiered cake, and there were no complaints from me (except for the tiredness). I was even happy with my hair and felt generally okay, until I looked in the car mirror ON THE WAY HOME and realised I have a nose that is comparable to Rudolph.

I know Christmas isn't that far away, but seriously.

It's so bad that I tried to take photos of it, but all that it managed to show was that I am apparently quite blotchy. My hair is kinda nice though, I like that it went the right way for once. Doesn't happen often.

And look! Pretty certificate! Red nose! If you close one eye, squint a bit and look directly into the sunlight, I even look fitter too! Hoorah!

When You Were Young

Why is it that I feel so old somedays?

Mum and I participated in a 4km walk this morning, and I am proud to say that I completed it in 36 minutes and 49 seconds to be exact.

Yes, I thought I was going to die in the first 10 minutes because oy! My shin bones felt as though they were going to poke out through my skin and explode.

Yes, I thought I would never keep up with mum, but I managed! Even though she did slow down once or twice for me, fearing I'd get pissed off if she left me behind. Bless!

Yes, there were runners who did the 8km RUN and finished ten minutes before us, but that is absolutely not the point.

I am very proud. And you know what else? Sitting on the silver seats for a 2 hour presentation hurt my ass more than the 4km walk hurt my shins. AND I didn't even win a raffle prize. I did get a nice certificate though - and funnily enough, the ladies wrote my 36:49 time down in the 8km run times - so if I hadn't noticed the mistake, I would have come FIRST in the runners. Yeah, right!

Psst. Thanks guys for your comments about the Korea teaching experience. I'm going to put a resume in, and I'm just hoping I'll get accepted. Fingers crossed for me, and I'll keep you informed when I hear things. You guys are great.


I've been considering something a little different for over the Christmas holidays.

As you might know, in Australia teachers get from around the 21st of December, through to the end of January off, since that is the kids main summer holiday break. I recently found out that I probably won't be recieving holiday pay over that time (like permanent teachers do, anyway) because I was only temporary for the year - which left me with a sort of dilemna.

I'm sure I could budget now to start putting money away and saving for things like board, car repayments, gym fees and other expenses (particularly expensive petrol and phone pre-paid cards) but I was still a bit worried.


One of the girls at work found a notice in the staffroom about working overseas in the Christmas holidays - in South Korea (Seoul - the capital), teaching English to kids. They pay for your airfare, your accomodation, lunches, Sunday outings (four in total) as well as $1400 at the end of four weeks. They provide the work for you, and there is a Korean translator/teachers aide in the room with you as well, to help the kids. It's from December 27th to January 29th, or around then.

I sort of want to do it.

But I'm also a big chicken and have some reserves too; mainly that it will be dodgy, or that things would just go wrong. I like to think worst-case, sometimes, it's my negative streak. And then there's Jase. (Who I should mention was 100% supportive of it all, bloody man. Couldn't he have pretended to be just a trifle disappointed that the LOVE OF HIS LIFE might be going away to a foreign country for four weeks? Sniff.)

Here is a link to the accomodation site. (It should be in English, and the links to a virtual camera shot of the apartments are down the left. The two single studios are apparently the ones on offer. Because the living arrangements are important. VERY important.

So what are your thoughts? I have no plans in that time anyway (other
than sitting around relaxing and trying not to spend the money I won't
be earning!) And hopefully, it'll be going with at least one or two
people from the school that also want to go, IF we get our resumes
accepted for the programme.  I still have a week or so to get a resume made up, but I'm still weighing it all up.

Should I go? And why?

Or should I NOT go? And why?

I value your opinions, so go for your life!

Sunday Scribblings: Bedtime Stories

Today has left me feeling exhausted.

I'm tired of drama, and expectations.
I'm tired of feeling as though I'm working and working and working and still not getting anywhere.
I'm tired of second guessing myself.
I'm tired of being unsure about what I want for myself, and how to get it.
I'm tired of waiting for things I want RIGHT NOW.
I'm tired of the mundane, the everyday.
I'm tired of thinking too much.
I'm tired. Full stop.

It's been said a thousand times before, about how nice it would be to step back in time to when things were simpler. To when we could look at things without being cynical, or sarcastic. To when there was barely a thought into the future at all; when we lived for the moment, and that was as far as our minds would allow us to go.

For me though? At this second, in this place, at this moment, it would also be nice to jump right ahead. Past the current insecurities and whinges, past the incessant rantings and whinings, into a different place.

It isn't as though I'm trying to escape it all, or that it is all too hard. I'm not exactly saying that. One can never actually escape from all of the uncertain parts; but instead? I'd like to just move away from where I am now, and look forward to DIFFERENT insecurities and whinges.

Whether they'll be better? No idea. Will I still feel the same as I do now, just in another time? Maybe. But hey. A girl can dream.

For now, I'd settle for someone reading me a bedtime story, and being greeted by a sleep where I really can escape my mind, at least for a short time..

For more Sunday Scribblings, go here.

Flat Stanley ~ Day 1

We had a very busy day, today.

The school had an all-day gala day, where we were doing activities and moving around the whole time, so I didn't really have time to give poor Stanley an introduction. I did give him a tour of the classroom, and tomorrow the class will get to meet him too.

Sadly, I don't think I'll be putting class pictures up with Stanley, for the kids confidentiality stuff, but we'll have fun just the same. Maybe I'll take Stanley to visit Jason tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be thrilled!

Stanley enjoys the view of my classroom, from the teachers desk. He thought it was very quiet and that I should stop whinging, but then he realised that there were actually no students in there, so he took it all back.

This is Stanley's new favourite book. I had to pry it out of his hot little hands. Stanley likes to read.

I am proud to say that he learned how to write his own name today. Oh, and to stand up all by himself, too. See how he holds the pencil? Clever Stanley.

He was a real hit with the ladies today. This is Stan the Man with some of the beautiful teachers from my school. Stanley can't wait to go back tomorrow.

I also have a charming photo today of one of my kids wearing a Scottish cap with wild, bushy hair coming out from underneath it in all directions, which I'd LOVE to post in time for Halloween. A big boo to the confidentiality stuff, although I know it's there for good reasons. Oh, and I'm officially in love with my cheap-o new camera.

Chasing Cars

This entry contains lots of bits and pieces.

No order, no real sense, just, well, bits and pieces. If you read it all, give yourself a pat on the back.

  • Some good car news - the other driver admitted liability, so my excess has been waived (hallelujah!) so I don't have to fork out nearly $1000 after all. Insurance has apparently got an assessor on the job, so I have to play the waiting game again to find out a) what the hell is wrong with the car, b) what needs fixing, c) WHEN it will get fixed and d) when I'll get my baby back again. I've seriously felt ill about the whole mess since Sunday, not particularly sick, but just not right. I hope this passes soon, because I'm tired of feeling this way.

  • The thought of one day teaching overseas, possibly in Europe, is freaking me out. In a good way, but I'm still freaking out. Yep. Don't even ask me why I'm thinking about this right now, when I have so much to do in the next term and I don't even know what the hell is happening next year. Brain overload.

  • The gym was packed with people again today. I enjoyed it much, much more when I didn't have to panic about finding a spot on the bloody circuit. And I hate stretching my sweaty, post-gym body on the mats RIGHT next to other sweaty, post-gym bodies. It's called space, people. Use the next damn mat over.

  • My new shoes are making my feet go numb. The identical joggers I had before the dodgy stitching incident didn't do this. I am confused. They're the same make as the old ones, the same size, everything is the same. Why are they feeling different?

  • I recieved two emails about Flat Stanley coming to visit. Once he's finished his trip with me, my momma wants to take him around with her for a wee trip (convenient, no postage!) so he'll pop off to Ngaire in a week or so. Kathy has also wanted to have a visit while Stanley's down under, so we'll get a sharing system up and running for that. Sound good?

  • Lastly. Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars. Probably the world's most over played song right now, but since it was playing as I typed this blog post up, I'd like to pop the lyrics in. They're exactly how I'm feeling right now. Scary how exact. Have a great night.

We'll do it all
On our own

We don't need

Or anyone

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie
with me and just forget the world?

I don't quite know
How to say

How I feel

Those three words
Are said too much
They're not

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

Let's waste time

Chasing cars
Around our heads

I need your grace
To remind me

To find my own

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you
lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

All that I
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can

I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that
these things will never change for us at all

If I lay here
If I just
lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Look who's here!

And he came in the cutest post-bag ever!


Edit: Because I'm a twit and I forgot that some people don't actually know who/what the heck Flat Stanley is (cover your ears, Stanley dear) I'll give you some of the background rundown. And because I am lazy, I shall steal Aimee's words.

"Have you heard of Flat
Stanley?  Flat Stanley is part of a project that some schools do.  You can read
more about the Flat Stanley project here. I made my very own Flat
Stanley.  I will document his time spent with me (about a week?) and then I will
send him to someone else, who will then blog about Flat Stanley's adventures
with her.  We can track the progress of Flat Stanley and see all the places he
has been....if we keep this up, Flat Stanley could be in 10-11 new places before
the year is over."

He arrived yesterday, and asked me to say a big thankyou to Aimee for making his plane flight so comfortable.

What can I say? I was so excited that I had to take pictures, EVEN with sweaty gym hair, no makeup and blotchy skin.

Poor Stanley must be jetlagged, he just doesn't look as excited as I do. He's resting now, but I'm sure he'll be as good as new soon.

I have a feeling that Stanley and I will be on the phone to insurance companies all day, and then watching movies in my NEW DVD PLAYER.

And if you're interested in having Stanley over for a visit, please send me an email and we'll sort it out. He's a rather quiet houseguest, actually.

Blah Blah Gym Blah Blah

I refuse to talk about CARS in this entry.

Maybe if I pretend they don't exist, I'll stop feeling so crappy about the whole mess?

Or not.

Let me just talk about gym instead. And whinge. Because that's what I do best.

Aside from the occassional pulled muscle, I'm really enjoying it. I'm going four-five times per week at the moment, hoping to make it EXACTLY five once school settles down again. And while I haven't given up on getting fitter (and I shall not!) I have still found things that piss me off about it.

Who would've thought? Me? Pissed off at things? Never! Here are just a couple, off the top of my head. Feel free to post your own additions in the comments, let's share the grouchiness.

# The ladies that work at the gym who were oh-so-friendly when we were in the process of joining, and now can barely be bothered to muster up a smile as I walk in and out. (With the exception of once nice lady, who I don't see that often.)

# The fact that it's more popular now and is almost always busy.

# A very beautiful relative of mine DID end up joining, and now I must watch her perfectness bouncing around in front of me, without a single drop of sweat or hair out of place.

# Other people who don't sweat or get hairs out of place or at least look tired. Freaks of nature.

# The fact that I DO look drenched, red faced and puffy by my second time around the weights circuit.

# Sweaty people (myself not included!) that leave gross marks and smelliness on the machines before you.

# People who take their sweet time moving their ass to the next station, so by the time you get started on your workout, the bloody change time sounds. SO IRRITATING.

# Camel toes.

# G-Strings over the top of tracksuit pants.

# Camel toes.

# People working out in Converse shoes. The horror!

# Camel toes.

# The ladies that don't even bother working up a smile when you're facing them and have nothing else to look at.

# When people older than me are craploads fitter than me.

# The fact that I'm terrified of driving through any carparks right now because of what happened on Sunday.

Shit. Well, at least I almost finished the entry without talking about cars. As for news? Who the hell knows. I'm going to go and bury my head in the sand for a while.

Damn, this blog got depressing fast. I need someone to hook up my new DVD player pronto, I'm going into withdrawals. MUST WATCH TV. NEED GREYS ANATOMY. MUST WATCH NOW AND THEN. CHEESY MOVIES CURE ALL. WAHHHHH.

Sorry to interrupt.

But I must bring you a special (whingy) bulletin.

Well really? Not so special.

But after a day of tension, nerves, a broken DVD player, hour-long phone calls being shipped between insurance companies, a $1000 excess fee that I have to pay EVEN THOUGH I AM NOT AT FAULT FROM THE ACCIDENT, as well as stomach aches, headaches and sore feet?

I'm officially taking a night off blogging. Right now, bed has never looked so good. Neither has a cask of wine, however sleep has been declared the winner for now.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming..

Bad Luck Sunday.

My beautiful car was smashed into this morning.

I was driving to the local shopping centre to pick up the damn joggers that were put in to bereplaced oh, about 10 days ago now. We all know my rants about idiot drivers? And about Rebel Sport? Hmm.

I was driving down a straight road in the centre carpark. There are lots of little streets that come off that road, and the cars on those smaller roads have to give way to MY road (the bigger, straighter road). Basically, cars waiting to turn onto the main road simply have to open their eyes, check both ways, and turn when they are able to. Pretty standard car park layout.

Unless you are a moron on one of the side streets who does not brake at intersections and likes to plough right into other cars who are minding their own business. WAHHHHHHHH.

Here's a drawing. Enlarge for clearness.

Even though it wasn't a major traffic accident and things seemed okay, it was actually worse than what it looked. She hit me square on the tyre (with no brakes, so fairly hard) which just shattered the hubcap completely. Also scratched the paint on the hood, tyre guard and passenger door. But the wheel itself? Can't drive on it. I got about 50 metres up the road and then panicked, the sounds and the vibrations were just not right.

We had to have it towed, because it was wobbling all over the place. The tow driver thinks the car will have mechanical problems too, mentioned something about the steering and something else that is all connected to the wheels? I can't understand mechanical terms and I had grease on my hands.



My baby is barely six months old. BRAND NEW. And someone does this. I'm just hoping insurance fixes it soon, and thank goodness that we have a spare car at home I can use for work because otherwise? I'd be screwed.

Please keep my car in your thoughts (not important in the grand scheme of things, but important to me!) that everything will be fixed quickly, and WELL. I'm covered fully, but I don't want to be without my baby forever. I'm sitting here in a bit of shock actually. I can't believe my car isn't in the driveway where it should be, it's sitting in some towing garage somewhere, waiting for insurance instructions. How the heck did this happen?

The moral to the story? IT'S ALL REBEL SPORT'S FAULT. Don't buy shoes from them because they suck. And beware of idiot drivers. Sadly, they're breeding. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.


And another.

I'll post some more in the morning. Yawn.

Lots of great costumes there, lots of CRIMPING. Loved that.

New shoes? Cute, very cute, but I now have sore feet.

Hair? Love it. Wish I could crimp it every day. Until tomorrow..

An 80's Preview.

I do hope you can sleep at night after seeing this.

We're off to Belinda's party. Oh, and we're taking our red lippie with us too. For touchups, you know.


Sunday Scribblings: Good

It was the red nail polish that started it all.

There were other factors involved too, of course. The air itself had been ebbing with tension, a thickly humid heat that wafted gently, as though one could cut through it with a knife. The kind of evening that seemed almost alive, breathing, waiting. Others felt it too, I could tell; the vibes coming off them were unsure, anticipating. I was not alone.

A woman approached me. She possessed a strange beauty; not conventional in any means. I was drawn to her hands; they were slender, with long fingers and pale, white skin. In contrast, her nails were short and square, and adorned in crimson paint. They fixated me.

The hours passed.

Later, I sat motionless in my car. The passenger seat was empty; I was alone. A humid, sticky breeze flowed through the two partly open windows, feeling strangely soothing on my forehead.  The lights from the town glinted in front of me. I watched them.

Just then, movement distracted my eyes from the city ahead; a creature stood frozen in the glinting of the car headlights. I saw panic reflected in its eyes, but in a blink of my own, it was gone. I stared at the empty spot where it had stood, idly pondering what had spooked it, wondering where it had fled.

My eyes moved from side to side, surveying the brush on either side of the headlights. To the left, there was nothing. To the right, I was greeted with an alarming vision that forced me to gasp for breath. Where my passenger seat was once vacant, now sat a figure, cloaked in black.

"I am sorry to startle you," announced the voice, speaking in soft, yet bold tones.
"Not at all." I reply heartily, as though to cover my surprise. Already though, I can tell that my visitor is amused by my reaction to his appearance.
"Is it done?"
"Yes. It's done. In the back."

At that, the figure nodded briskly and left the car, exiting as silently as he arrived. He moved to the rear of the car and lifted the trunk; from here, my view was obstructed. Without moving my eyes from the quiet view of the city below, I heard a shuffling, a thud, and then silence.

Something landed on my lap, tossed casually through the open window. Without looking down, I knew what sight would greet me; a wad of bills, loosely bound together. An appropriate price. Turning my head, I saw a dark figure on the dirt. Covered by a woven rug, the only shape apparent in the moonlight was a slender hand; blood red nails caressing the ground.

The figure re-appeared at the window. I bowed my head; he returned the gesture.


I started the engine, reversed and headed back to the town.

Fore more Sunday Scribblings, go here.

It's that time again.

Time for the not so long-awaited blog award.

Do we remember the HACAH award? If (gasp!) you have forgotten or are a new reader, I suggest you read the link. It's enlightening stuff, it is.

I am proud (and astonished) to annouce that we are up to 700 comments, already! It's been one heck of a trip, and I'd like to thank...

Okay, I'm not that lame.

(blank pause)

Okay, so I sort of am.

Thanks for still sticking around, guys. And especially, to those of you who take the time to comment. I'm feeling the love. You're the reason I don't have those evil word verification prompts; What can I say? I'm a people person, hoorah!

Back to the invisible-but-still-prestigious HACAH award. It is my pleasure to hand the award over to  my favourite hick - NICOLE!

Even though Nicole has threatened not to come back until she sees more posts about bondage, I still love her. And her blog. Complete with cute kiddie pictures from which I'll one day steal borrow the idea for my OWN kiddie picture post. Although my captions will never be as witty as hers. And my bathroom will never be as clean. And.. alright, I'll shutup now.

Congratulations, Nic.

A Quick Note

Because my visitors list is alarming me, lately.

If you've been directed here from Google or one of the other trillion search engines out there looking for GREAT BONDAGE, you've come to the wrong place. That is all.

Now normally, I would be helpful and provide you with links to other places you go go, but you know what? This time, it just aint going to happen. Sorry about that.

Have a nice day, now.

A change will do you good

I am as fickle as a pineapple.

Wait? Is it fickle as pineapple? Or fickle as a cuccumber? No, wait, isn't it cool as a cuccumber? Did I just spell cuccumber right? Which fruit is fickle? How are any fruits fickle, anyway? Who came up with the word fickle? Ack. I'm a bit muddled today; being back in the school swing of things has messed with my brain.

Anyhow, I became tired of the purpleness that was the last blog header, so I went for basic (and boring, yes) black and white. I'm still not happy though; you know when you have an idea in your head, but you just can't find the right way to do it? Well. I'm stuck. I want to have a photograph of a chalkboard, perhaps with someone standing in front of it. I don't particularly want to photograph myself (not flattering from ANY angle) but I also don't seem to find any images that fit on the web. Hmm. Ideas?

I felt a bit like having a gym blog rant since I just got back, but now that I've sat down my inspiration has gone. Instead? More random ramblings.

# The principal at my school knows I have a blog, and wants to read it! I'm so embarrassed; not about by my writing about the school, as I've always been pretty good about what I choose to blog about. No, I'm worried about my not-so-lovely language that graces the pages every day every so often. And also? I'll feel like a twelve year old who's whining to a diary. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just WEIRD. Meh. Weird. Anywho, just in case he does come across it - HI CHRIS! You look lovely today!

# I asked J. today to sound out a word he was trying to spell. Who knew that scared was actually spelled this way; SGED. Hey, at least he tried.. right?

# Mum and I tried on our 80's outfit for Belinda's party on Saturday night. I was grumbling the other day because I felt like we would be completely daggy, and we ARE! But not in a frumpy way, like I had thought. Thankyou Supre, for your horribly daggy leggings that everyone seems to love at the moment. We are forever in your debt. The last thing I need is red shoes. I cannot find the right red shoes anywhere. And can't forget the trashy makeup too. Can't wait!

# Rebel Sport still has not recieved my runners yet. Meaning I am getting cranky. Watch out. Well, no, not really. I'm just cranky because I've had to wait so long.

# Singstar Party arrived in the mail today. PARTY. I'm so excited! Hopefully we'll get a chance to have a go tonight, although Ajay stowed away his Playstation back to his own room again - how dare he?

# You really should listen to the new Goo Goo Dolls album. It's fabulous. And I'll always be in love with Johnny Rzeznik. FABULOUS, I tell you.

# Let me just finish up this post with a picture of Kirby's turtle book-holder-upperer. I've been waiting to get these photos off Julie since she came up in September. Look closely. Use your imagination.

Hi kids! Look at me! I hold your books up.

Ya'll come back, now.

Riddle me this.

Oompa, Loompa, Doompity Doo; I've got some lovely puzzles for you. (And now I have that tune in my head..)

Hard, they be not.

But because it is hot and I am lazy, I shall write them anyway. See if you can work out the answers.

What do you get if;

You take one classroom of twenty-three six and seven year olds. You add a couple of teaspoons full of energy to the equation, and take away some listening skills. Then you add in a lab of computers, and divide to form pairs of students on each computer. Multiply that by seven, just for the heck of it. Then divide by seven, also just for the heck of it. Then you add another twenty students (but divide them by half because they are pre-schoolers and are very, very small). What's the total?

My class + Preschool kids + Computer Lab = Crazy Aly.

That wasn't too bad though. We were already going down there, as we do each Wednesday. The pre-school which adjoins our primary school has been visiting classrooms to see the "Big Kids" at work, so I offered for them to come in our time-slot; they were happy about this, since their kidlets hadn't seen the computer lab before. I had planned for my guys to use the internet, someone had told me about a great online maths game site which I thought would be a nice change.

We had even worked out a system, so that I could get their attention when I needed it. (1-2-3, Eyes to me!) All set. Paired up, computers on, ready to go. Prepared for our visitors, so the my kidlets could show the younger kids what they were doing. They came in, we greeted them, split them up to view the computers and then -- the internet and/or website decided to promptly cark it. Splat. No more games. First it was just one computer, then all of a sudden there were fifteen pairs of hands in the air. Bleh. We did get them working again, and it WAS a good site, but not a particularly fun lesson.

(Lucky the pre-school kids know me already, otherwise they would have thought I was one insane lady, running around like a mad-woman trying to get computers to work.)

I have another maths problem for you.

What do you get if;

You take one classroom of twenty-three kidlets, add nine other classes (of twenty-three kidlets or MORE) and divide them between two playgrounds. Add balls, skipping ropes, chasing games and other playground actitivities, as well as a temperature in the 30's (still celcius, folks.) Also add wind. A fair amount of wind. Take into account the average beads of sweat children accumulate across a 40 minute lunch break with the afore-mentioned additions, and also add a crapload of baby flies into the equation. What's the answer?

My class + A hot and sweaty lunch hour + Flies = Possibly the most irritating and annoying last hour of school EVER.

Oh man. I've seen the kids hot and sweaty after lunches before, way back from the beginning of the year. I remembered the sweat, and the tiredness, and even the occassional grouch after lunch - but I had forgotten the flies. Holy crap. They were EVERYWHERE! I'm talking, crazy amounts. Sticking to the kids sweaty foreheads, being smooshed and slapped by the kids walking to class. Yuck!

Tomorrow, I think I'm breaking out the Aeroguard. Blech!

Clever Chooks

Sometimes the kids say the darndest things.

And sometimes? They do not. In fact, they say rather obvious things. Let's take today, for example.

I came out after lunch with a monster headache, so already I wasn't feeling that super bouncy happy mood anymore. (geez, and I thought I could last until Friday - HA!) Got to lines, and was greeted with about five different kids, all complaining about different things.

C: "She pushed me!"
S: "She looked at me funny!"
D: "Miss, J. just kicked me."
D: "I don't lie. YOU LIE!"
R: "Can I get a drink?"

For the sake of my temples exploding, I didn't say anything.

I just gave them THE LOOK. I think most people know what THE LOOK is; I am proud to say that after not even one year, I have got THE LOOK perfected. Score! THE LOOK is the best tool ever. Great for sore throats, and headaches.


They all scuttled back into lines, and off we went; shuffling inside to the room. I waited at the door to let the class in first, and was greeted by even more complaints as I walked inside.

N: "I lost my money in the playground."
C: "Yeah, I think S. stole it."
C: "You always steal, S."
S: "I DID NOT!" (insert tears)
R: "So, can I get a drink, now?"

(I had to laugh inwardly at R. Very persistent, that one.)

After I got to my chair, purposely ignoring them at that time, they suddenly became very quiet. I still hadn't said anything, instead I was just randomly looking at the faces in front of me. I WAS going to open my mouth and talk to them about the whinging (because OMG, I'm the only one allowed to whinge around here, ALRIGHT KIDDIES?) when I saw one student whisper to another.

This irritated me, in the charming mood I was in, so of course, I pointedly stared at the student and asked them to please tell the rest of us what was so important.

She stood up, scuffed her feet a bit, and finally came out with this;

L: "Um, I was just saying that you don't look real happy."

Too right, kiddo. Top marks for you in the sense department.

(Oh, and I also have to boast, because my kids are all doing vertical addition with basic trading! With no worries! Even the less-mathematically inclined kids have figured out how to do it with little numbers. My clever kids were doing four and five digit adding today. So excited! Now if only they'll remember it..)


Warning: Rant below.

//Begin Rant:

What the fuck is WRONG with you, Australia?

Bobby? YOU WOULD VOTE OUT BOBBY? I hope you forever suffer bad hair days for the rest of your life. BOBBY. I think you are wonderful Bobby. I hope you get signed and sell a million more records than the washed-up Australian Idol winner from this year, who we probably won't remember this time next year (unless that person is Dean, and then I will shut up.)

If I ever see Lisa fucking Mitchell in the street, I'm going to slap her and then push her over. And restrain the urge to kick her while she's down.

//End Rant:

This blog really does not condone violence. Except in regards to Australian Idol because OH MY GOD. I can't talk about it anymore.

Baby Love!

Today was a really nice first day back.

Obviously not as nice as holidays, but I think we all knew that.

First off, it helps to have six or seven blossoms away. It is amazing (say it with me now - UH MAYZ ING!) what a difference it makes having a couple of kids away. The classroom is completely different. Not silent or anything, but just nicer.

Again, it looks like they have all grown at least two inches over the holidays. I always feel surprised how good it is to see them again, acting all clucky-like. I'll bet someone a cheeseburger (or not) that the lovey-dovey feelings will be gone by the end of the week!

I laid down some rules today - actually, let me re-word that. More like expectations for the term. First up was that they really need to walk in two lines properly; it sounds so simple but it drives me crazy when they talk, all the time. And when the Year 2 boys think it's fun to push and shove each other. Yarrrr. Second was that I'm going to be a fussy teacher, because if their work is messy? I will not be marking it.

Mean? Probably, since it WAS the first day back and all. But I plan on getting as much work and assessment done as possible this term. I really want to be offered something at that school next year, since it would be a pain starting brand new somewhere else, and because I am comfortable. Plus, the less stressful I am, the better!

All day today, one of my kids was going on and on about his brand new baby brother. His mum is one of the nicest parents I've met so far. She has two boys already, and had just found out she was expecting another boy. Anyway, all I kept hearing about today from E. was this; "Miss, he's another me! He's just like me! Everyone says it's me all over!" Whilst E. is a nice kid, he's an.. unusual one, for lack of a better words. So of course I was curious to see the next little prodigy.


I am smitten.

I want one.

Can someone please send me a beautiful sized baby, all snuggley and yawny and tired and absolutely quiet? I'm in love. Congratulations to Mr and Mrs M, and little E. #2, who was born exactly a week ago.

Should I be worried?

I have had my fairly run-of-the-mill blog visitors lately.

Mainly the usual "Black Fingernails/Red Wine" OR "Flawed Design" OR "The Fray lyrics" that always end up here.

But of course, I've had some classics thrown in there too. I am a wee bit concerned with these two;


"contiki, jase, love"

Hmm. I wonder if we're talking about the same Jase here? Because I LOVE my JASE and we went on a CONTIKI tour together. I certainly don't remember you being there as well, mysterious person, unless you were involved in the drunken nights in either a) France, b) Italy or c) Amsterdam. Then I'll just have to take your word for it. Yipes.

"jase, contiki, sex"

Okay, I really think it'd be a good idea to post a comment with your name next time. Just so I know. You know how it is. Hey, Jase DID do a Contiki tour on his own before we started dating. Excuse me for a moment, won't you? -Gets out the sharpened bamboo torturing sticks-

And now, for the amusing and sometimes plain weird blog searches.

"australian idol dean geyer flip "video"

Ooh. I have to say, I've gone a bit off Australian Idol at the moment (gasp!) because of the whole judges favouritism thing (LISA MITCHELL, PISS OFF, YOU'RE BORING.) but I still like me a bit of Dean viewing every Sunday night. For those of you wondering what a "flip" video is? He sung a Gloria Estefan number for the Disco show, and did two neat-o little backflips. See? I will stop snickering like a girl soon, I promise.


"dean geyer photos"

Can't really help you there; Jase would yell at me. Although after his apparent Contiki rompings (!!) perhaps I should be entitled to some blog goodness. Fine. Just look up. I've even included his butt-crack. What's that? You need another one? Well, I suppose one won't hurt. I aim to please.


"buenos dias mi amor."

And good morning to you too, my love. Have a nice day, now!

"how train your puppy to be the best bevived puppy ever"

To be honest, aside from the brain-hurting grammar, I don't know what this means. Bevived is a friend of mine (Hi, Viv!) - and I don't think she trains puppies for a living. Perhaps this person meant BEHAVED? But while we're on that note, I'd love for you to buy me a puppy. Thanks ever so much.

"humourous and cryptic sayings"

If I were feeling more creative, I'd think of a witty and interesting saying that is both humourous AND cryptic, but alas! My brain is smoosh. If you find a good site, please let me know.

"amy lee" would be a nice one to meet. I just want to kiss her one time...then I'll stop I promise."

Jeepers kids, I think we have a stalker on our hands. Poor Amy (of Evanescence fame, for the not so musically inclined) - perhaps I should forward this on to the band email? I love the not-so-confident "I promise" tacked on to the end. It's a bit like me with movie popcorn, and we all know how this goes. "I just want another handful of movie popcorn, and then I'll stop... I promise." Don't hold your breath.


And in other completely random news, I find it really alarming that all it takes is to hear the dialogue from my all-time favourite movie to prompt me into spontaneous bouts of tears. And then hearing Sarah McLachlan in the movie too, certainly doesn't help.

But, but, they loved each other! They fought a fair bit, and he was a stalker and she was a bitch who went and slept with that other doctor anyway, but then he JUMPED OFF A BUILDING FOR HER. And then they made beautiful love on a fluffy rug in a cabin in LAKE TAHOE and then he had a shower and smiled a lot and she had to go and get herself killed and ruin the whole movie which makes me cry, but really that leaves Seth for me in my dreams. Le sigh.

I think I'm having severe bouts of PMS. How did this post go so horribly and terribly off-track? Apologies, folks.


Why must holidays be so fickle?

Why can't they get over their committment issues and just stay forever and ever? What's so hard about staying with one person for the rest of their lives, and co-existing in peace and harmony? Huh?

Tomorrow is Term 4. That means work. That means getting up early again. That means kiddies, and hopefully kiddie stories. That means HOT HOT classroooms with no air conditioning. Good times ahead. Oh the bright side though; 10 weeks, and that's it for the year. Pretty awesome.

Since I'm in a lethargic and very, very moody state of mind today, I'll follow on with the whole randomness trend. Here we go;

  • Jason and I saw World Trade Center last night. And I cried. It's so sad. And it had Nicolas Cage, and he is one of my favourite actors. And the little girl at the end; Olivia? Looks like one of the kids that goes to the school's pre-school. Gorgeous.

  • I've become completely obsessed with that Teddy Geiger song - For You I Will. "I'm wandering the streets in a world underneath it all; But nothing seems to be, nothing tastes as sweet as what I can't have; Like you and the way that you're twisting your hair around your finger; But tonight I'm not afraid to tell you what I feel about you." It's so beautiful. I love it!

  • My nails are slowly growing again. Thankyou, Sally Hanson.

  • I wish I could sing like Sarah McLachlan in Fear. If I could sing like that, I would walk around the streets simply singing it. Just because I could. Haunting. "But I fear I have nothing to give; I have so much to lose here in this lonely place; Tangled up in our embrace; There's nothing I'd like better than to fall."

  • I really should get over the whole song lyrics thing. I did tell you I was moody.

ey look! Rabbits! Yum."

Man Down!

Jason and I decided to make dinner last night; chicken, potatoes and fruit salad.

It's been really, really hot lately. Over 35o CELCIUS. For the American folks, find yourself a handy dandy conversion webpage and work it out. It's damn hot. Considering that it's only JUST Spring here? I'd say we're going to be all melted puddles of flesh by the time Summer comes around. Something to look forward to.

Anyway, I don't know if I've mentioned it here, but while I was studying at university, I worked part time in a juice bar. Because of that, I like to think I'm pretty good at annihilating chopping up fruit pieces, especially pineapple and watermelon. Actually, I can hack at nearly any fruit and still make it look good. With the exception of mangoes. I really cannot cut up mangoes.

We got the chicken and the potatoes ready. We got matching chopping boards ready. We got all the fruit out, ready to go. We were very organised kitchen-chooks last night.

I decided to take the pineapple, watermelon and rockmelon, because if you haven't already noticed, I like to show off my chopping skills. Jase got the mangoes, and the kiwifruit. We got to chopping. All was going well, except the mangoes that looked like piles of goop. (but they tasted good!)

Until those fateful words;

Ouch! I just cut myself!

Of course, I invisioned blood flying everywhere; so I rushed over, grabbed his hand and shoved it under the tap. Turns out, the poor dear had been peeling a kiwifruit, and had slipped and peeled a chunk off his pointer finger. It was pretty horrid too.

I rushed to get some bandaids, and put one on his finger. That's when Jase started swaying a wee bit, saying some more fateful words;

I feel dizzy.

I had hold hold of his shoulders and was trying to keep him steady, and then we did a bit of a slow dance wobble. His eyes then proceeded to roll back in his head, and in slow motion, he crashed backwards. Luckily I had my hand at the back of his head because we have tiled floors (ouch!) and he didn't get hurt on the floor. Then he opened up his eyes and said;

What am I doing on the floor?

He's okay, I fussed about him like a grandma for the rest of the night (and this morning too) but I've never seen anything so terrifying in my life. His eyes, and how close his head came to hitting the floor, geez. My poor baby! Perhaps he'd be safer cutting the "big fruits" next time, and I can look after the peeling.

Love you Jase, stay away from sharp objects today for me please.

Sunday Scribblings: If I could stop time

Too often, I find myself reliving that fateful day.

Too often, I find myself wishing that things could be changed.
Too often, I wish the little things that went on that morning could be erased.
Too often, I wonder what else could have happened had things been said and done differently.
Too often, I wish I could have stopped time.

The questions are endless. They haunt me, day in and day out. They greet me in the morning, and they plague me as I seek sleep at the day's end.

If I had bought the damn milk the night before, instead of rushing home to be near you. If we had stopped at one cup of coffee that night, instead of staying up into the wee hours of the morning. If I had woken up before you in the morning, rather than craving the warmth of the bed. If you had chosen toast or pancakes for breakfast, in the place of cereal. If I had called you back into the room, to snuggle together for longer. If you had decided to drive your car to the shops, instead of insisting you wanted to walk and enjoy the sunshine. If the driver of the car had chosen to stay home and sleep it off.

I miss you.

Too often, I cry; why couldn't it have been me, and not you?

For more Sunday Scribblings, go here.

Day of the Dags

I have to be fair; Desiree did give provide a rather enlightening post about Columbus Day for me last week, so it is only fair that I give back.

Because that's what I'm all about. Giving to the people. Peace.

Stay with me guys, this could get confusing.

"In Australia, dag refers to wool on a sheep's rear contaminated with mud
and faecal matter. PSSSSH. This is a technical term only. One does not usually call themselves a hanging lock of poop, if you know what I mean. However, it has evolved from its original meaning to become an almost untranslatable and not necessarily derogatory Australian slang term referring to a likably goofy or unsophisticated person."

Thankyou, Wikipedia. Always have an answer for everything.

I like that; untranslatable. Meaning no-one has a clue how the heck "dag" became a word at all. Classic! If you were asking me to tell you what it means (oh, what's that, you WERE asking that?) I'd say this;

A dag is a dork.
Or a nerd. Or a loser. Or someone corny.

But in a nice sort of tone, not in a bitchy one. So I'm affectionately calling myself a dag. I could affectionately call you, Desiree, a dag. Or even Lala! Or my mum! And because it's affectionate, no-one is allowed to get cranky.

This is what I just found on another site.

"Colloquially it refers to someone who is, well, a bit of a nerd (in that 1970s sense of nurd). It has a wide range of values, so to say to someone "You're a dag" can actually be a form of sweet talking, but in other contexts it has all the negative connotations of being unfashionably out of date, socially clumsy, and just, well, daggy. Generally you don't want to be a dag."

I disagree! Being a dag is fun.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to use the word DAG in at least one sentence today. And then put up with the stares from people who have no idea what you are talking about. And then to enlighten them, and share the dag love around the world. I think my job here is done.

Damnit Rebel Sport!

I'm sure you remember the sexy runners?

Yes, the sexy, EXPENSIVE runners? The ones that BROKE? Well. Drama, drama, drama.

We went shopping today, to find 80's style outfits. So far, I think we have a pretty good idea. You know the Wham! filmclip, heeeee the Jitterbug song (excuse me while I break out into dance bounces) - the dress up shop had really boring plain white shirts with GO-GO on the front. Hee. We're boring so we hired those, and we're going to go black leggings, with a teeny skirt over the top. Oh, and I have a wide red belt and red jewellery to match. And I need to find some red pump-style shoes.

I'm going to be the biggest dag. Now to find sexy crimpy hairstyles. Because crimping is going to be the highlight of my night.

Anyway, that's the idea so far. Still open to anything quick and easy.  And if anyone has a pair of high top red Chuck Taylors in a size 9, I'd love to borrow 'em.

So yes. Back to the shoes. Which I bought at REBEL SPORT. Hmph. We all know my deal with blogging about my pitiful customer service problems. I have more to share with you.

Since I'm too lazy to post it twice, I'll just copy and paste the email I just sent off to their customer service team. And add bits in bold.


Hi there (Friendly enough greeting, no?)

I would like to submit a customer concern, as I am not very happy (fucking pissed off, rather) after an incident this evening. Last week I purchased a pair of Womens Nike runners (Max Tail Wind 5 Plus, Size 9), which I paid $229.95 for, whilst shopping at your P. NSW store. (town blacked out for the stalkers, ya'll.)

After wearing the joggers on two-three occassions, I noticed that the stitching surrounding part of the laces, as well as some on the side of the tongue had come undone. (I also swore lots, when I saw the shoes had fallen apart.) After paying such a large amount of money, I called the P. store back to ask what could be done. They were very helpful, told me that unfortunately they did not have a Size 9 shoe to replace it with, as they were out of stock. They also informed me that the nearest store to me that carried this size was the Mid-City store, which is nowhere near my living area. (Read my lips; I am not travelling to the city for a pair of shoes, no matter how cute they may be. Unless they're giving them to me with a mighty big discount.)

After I enquired as to whether I could just return the shoes at my nearest store, they gave me directions to the MD store. This evening, I took the shoes to that store to return them, as well as my original reciept.

Here I was told that I was unable to get a refund, would I like to change the shoes to a different pair. I told them I would not, as I had tried on nearly all styles when I was originally having fittings done, and I would just like to either refund the shoes OR get another pair shipped in, if that were possible. (I like THOSE sexy shoes and I just want a pair that DON'T fall apart, is THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?)

I was told that this would take 5-10 working days, and since I required a new pair of runners before then, I told them I would just like a refund. (I think I started glaring at this point.)

To this they responded that they could not do this; instead, the shoes must be shipped somewhere, observed to see that they were really "faulty" and that I could come back next week to get my return then. (I got pissed off then. And mum told me I was acting like an idiot, but I was still pissed off. And glaring. Why not? The fuckers wouldn't give me my money back!)

The store took the shoes, and gave me back my receipt, which I was not happy with - as even though I had proof of purchase, who was to say that I had actually returned the shoes at all? They did lodge a notice in their diary, however I am still not happy with this service. The shoes had been worn on two occassions, and the only damage was in regards to the glue/stitching. (I JUST WANT THE DAMN SHOES ALREADY.)

I am currently left with nothing. (Except a really, really big attitude.) I am uncomfortable with having $229.95 of my money NOT credited to me. In the meantime, I have no runners for sporting purposes AND I am unable to look around for a new pair, seeing as the money was not refunded to me and I do not have the funding to purchase another pair. (I do, but that is NOT the point. Seriously.)

I also have to go back out of my way at a later date simply to return to the store, and have them refund me. (Yes, I am a lazy bitch, but it's true. The less time I have to spend in MD, the better.) The staff at the MD store were not particularly helpful and showed no understanding of my concerns. (All I can say is KARMA bitches, KARMA.) I must add that the staff at P. were very helpful from the original purchase date as well as over the phone.

I would like to speak further to the appropriate person about this, as I am feeling very dissatisfied with my Rebel purchase, as well as uncomfortable about my lack of purchase/refund money.

Thanking you.



So? Am I allowed to be pissed off? They wouldn't just give me the damn money back, because the shoes apparently needed to be checked. THE STAFF ALL HAD EYES, as far as I could see. Could they not look in the damn box and observe? "Wow. That lace is broken. I think they're faulty. Let's give this nice lady her money back."

Not impressed.

Rebel Sport, I am not coming back to you anytime soon. I'll keep you informed of anything I hear. Roar.

80's Advice

We have a 30th party to go to in a couple of weeks, and it just so happens to be 80's themed.

Now comes the hard part; dressing up.

From what I've seen doing countless hours of Googling, 80's clothing is fabulous - if you happen to be a skinny twig. Miniskirts, tights, midriff tops, yes yes, I know. And I think they're great. But you just won't catch me wearing them.

So, I come to you for advice, oh wonderful blog-o-sphere. What should I wear?

I'm mainly looking for clothing ideas, since I own a crimping iron, (!) hairspray and old tacky jewellery already. I think I've got that part covered. We're calling into a dress place today to get some ideas too, so that should be fun.

Keep in mind that the clothes are for someone of a not-thin body type. And someone on a budget. Get commenting, ladies and gents, I need your help!

P.S. Remember my pretty (expensive) Nike runners? I was putting them on yesterday and the strap stitching fell apart in my hands! They're a week old! Wahhhh! Crisis! We're going back to the shop, and they had better replace them for me or else I may just throw a tantrum then and there. Think happy thoughts, Aly, think happy thoughts...

I am happy, oh-so-happy!

Thanks to my momma and her awesome friend, Beth.


It is going to be shipped to the lovely Beth in America, who is then going to ship it TO MEEEEE. Fwoar! I am so excited, I may just cry.

Possibly THE cutest sunglasses in the world.

Closely followed by the coveted Chucks which I have not shut up about in the last few days.

And topped off with some cute wedges, just in time for summer.

Everyone celebrate with me! Celebrations all round! Love! Joy! Too much money spent!

The Running (Wo)Man

I have totally impressed myself this morning.

I'm going to the gym later this afternoon - (blah, blah, I know, everyone is tired of the gym but I AM PROUD so it will continue to be non-subtly hinted in practically every blog post) (oh, and don't you think that warrants a present?) (size 9, please) - because I'm waiting to go with my mum.

By the way, I've decided that it's much better when you can do it with someone else. Especially if that someone makes fun of the way you do your leg lifts (it's NOT MY FAULT I am an unco-ordinated freak, alright?) and makes you nearly fall off the cardio boards in laughter. Oh, and who bitches about the other gym patrons while you're stretching out on the mats after your workout. Good times.

But, school goes back in a couple of days - which means that I'll end up by my lonesome at the gym again. Mum goes in the mornings before work, but that's the time I LEAVE for work, so I drop by on my way home from school.

Geez I'm good at going off-track. Ramblings, indeed.

Anyway, I thought this morning that I would start doing some school stuff. "Thought" being the operative word in that sentence. Here's what ended up happening instead;

  • I managed to clean my side table, including sorting out all my old tax bits and new tax bits. I also got all my payslips organised in a folder, as well as bank statements. What can I say, I'm a good procrastinator.

  • I went through my old lesson plans from my teaching pracs last year, and also the ones I made up earlier in the year. (How sad that I rarely use lesson plans these days; instead, I use bigger daybooks. I guess it happens when you get lazy you get more confident with routines and term plans and all the rest. Anyway, I'll need these for my Accreditation when I actually get my head around it all.

  • I finished ER Season 4, and began Season 1 of House.

  • I dug out my Teachers Accreditation booklet to start looking at, and ended up staring at a blank writing document for about half an hour. I don't actually think I'm smart enough for this. Seriously.

  • I got dressed for gym.

  • I got hungry and went downstairs to find a snack, but got sidetracked by the "Top 13 Boy Bands" special that was playing on MusicMax.

And then for some reason completely foreign to me, the treadmill started calling me. Can you imagine? I walked past it a couple of times, thinking to myself "Why the heck would I want to use this now? I'm going to the GYM today." But like I said, it was calling me. So I figured; what the heck.

I didn't spend long on it. Only 15 minutes. But you know what? I ran the entire time! RAN! Not at Superman speed or anything, but I RAN! With my legs bouncing, not just a shuffley fast walk/run! I bouncy ran! RAN! For 15 minutes! Without stopping! I got sweaty! Running!

I could only ever run for little teeny gaps in between my walking before. Perhaps even though I still look like a marshmallow (wo)man, the gym has given me some muscles that I didn't have before. Or perhaps I could always do it, but I just didn't have the motivation to do it. I don't know. But I toppled got off the treadmill with the biggest smile on my face.

Also: I didn't get any programming done.
Also: If I get woken up tonight by leg cramps, please remind me why.

Grumbles at 1am.

I'm so tired that I created a poem.

Leg cramps, leg cramps,
Yucky, icky leg cramps.
I went to bed all feeling fine,
Now I'm up at a yucky time.

Leg cramps, leg cramps,
Stupid, crappy leg cramps.
Not growing pains cos I'm too old,
Now I'm getting rather cold.

Leg cramps, leg cramps,
Oh how I hate thee, leg cramps.
They're hurting lots, ouch ouch ouch,
Tomorrow I will be a grouch.

Well, it's obvious that my creative streak comes out in the wee hours. I have no idea what brought these cramps on, they're in both legs and right up the top. I used to get these all the time, but haven't had them in the longest time. Yeeeeeowch. I know I did a bit of walking yesterday (and gym) but nothing strenuous enough for this.

I wonder what else causes leg cramps? Perhaps I shall Googlify it. Hell, I'm even feeling lucky. Here goes.

Apparently, THIS is why I have leg cramps.

But for the lazy lurkers out there, here are some highlights.

  • A leg cramp is a pain that comes from a muscle in the leg. (Well, I could have told you that one.)

  • It usually occurs in one of the calf muscles, below and behind a knee. (My knees are fine. My upper thighs hurt.)

  • A cramp pain typically lasts a few minutes. (Ha! Bullshit. Try nearly an hour.)

  • Leg cramps usually occur when you are resting - most commonly at night when in
    bed. (Look, the article told me something useful. How nice.)

  • They may wake you from sleep. (No fucking way.)

  • They are more common in older people. (Just because I had ONE nanna day, does not mean I am a nanna, thankyouverymuch.)

  • In some cases, the cramps may be a symptom of another condition or problem; Over-exertion of muscles, Dehydration, Excess alcohol. (Over exertion? Perhaps. Dehydration? No, I'm fine. Excess alcohol? Only talked about. I haven't drunk in weeks.)

  • If you are otherwise well, and have no other unexplained symptoms, then the leg
    cramps are likely to be idiopathic (unknown cause). (Well, isn't that just lovely.)

  • Stretching and massaging the affected muscle (usually a calf muscle) can usually
    relieve an attack of cramp. (BUT IT'S NOT MY CALF MUSCLE. And massaging my own thighs just isn't doing it for me.)

How interesting. Did it tell me anything? Not really, except that I am apparently a freak of nature who is getting leg cramps in the wrong places. My leg cramps are also very clever ones, seeing as they must read this blog and think I'm a granny. Fabulous. Mmmbleh.

My Nanna Day.

It's left me bloody exhausted!

Met up with nan at the club, we then walked to the station and headed off to Parramatta. It's so different now; as if it wasn't confusing enough in the first place. The whole point in going? To return a shirt that nan bought, seeing as she doesn't go out by herself much. We get there and guess what? In a shopping centre with fifteen billion stores, the store that nan was looking for WAS NOT THERE.

So basically, it was a free shopping day. Sounds good right? Except make that into a free shopping day at grandma speed. Actually, scratch that. A free shopping day at grandma speed WITH a walking frame. In other words, we walked into about ten stores. I love my nan but lordy, she was painful to shop with.

I bought a necklace and earring set for her Christmas present which she chose, which was nice. She bought herself perfume, and I held myself back from buying MYSELF more perfume. I bought some sunglasses and a handbag, because they were cheap. Oh, and a nice dress. I know. A DRESS. A girly dress! The horror! I'll try and take a picture of it soon.

I was rather disappointed that I didn't buy a Boost smoothie while I was there, I've been craving one for the longest time. I was also peeved to find out that plain black Chucks were on sale for like $70 in Foot Locker. I always thought they were cheaper than that; wahhh! This makes me wish for those pink checkered ones even more.

Anyway, then I dropped nan off, and got stuck in peak hour traffic all the way home along the freeway. Damnit! I hate traffic. Especially when I have to merge across two-three lanes to get to the E-Tag tollbooth. Yipes! Lucky I squeezed in front of slow ol' trucks, so that was nice.

I even went to the gym straight after. But after all that? I have sore feet and a throbbing headache. That's what I get for having a life for the day.

Fwee, I also had a pseudo celebrity sighting, celebrity in terms of football anyway. I saw John Morris from the Parramatta Eels. Hee. That is Jason's team, and I always used to tell him that John Morris was the cutest guy on the team (just to piss him off.) I'm over him now, but I can still share some rather shocking pictures I found of him. Have to laugh at the match photos with his tongue hanging out!

Oh, and as I was cleaning out my old handbag and depositing all of my junk into my new handbag, I found a little note I had meant to share with the blogging world from the last week of school. I may have already shared it even, but I'm in holiday mode and therefore my brain is currently lying on a beach somewhere.

It was written in one of the kids journals; this is it, word for word.

"Miss S. is the best techer in the hole wide world and pretty. Or she is just so luvey and smart with a buter fool fase."

Ha! Flattery will get you nowhere, kiddo.. but I suppose a little bit will help. Smart kid. Now to work on his spelling when I get back.

My buter fool fase and I are off to go to bed now.

Tag Love

Being tagged by Lala and feeling all special because of Desiree, it's shaping up to be one heck of a day.

I have an extremely busy day today. I am meeting my grandma at an RSL club for lunch. I am being a train companion as we head off to Parramatta to get lost in the gigantic newly renovated shopping centre that is Westfields. I am going to resist the urge to spend since I just purchased this and this last night. Shit. P.S. I still want THE AMAZON THREESOME.

And then I have to squeeze in a quick gym visit, so that I don't miss a day. I've been so good. I still weigh and look the same (damnit) but I'm just hoping that the fat will go away. Soon, preferably.

Without further ado, on with the taggy survey. Hoorah!

1) Would you bungee jump?

Yes. I think I would. I'd be paranoid and freaking out and would probably cry and try to chicken out, but if push came to shove (shove - haha - THEN I'd bungee jump!) I would do it. Only if it were over water. No land. Land = ouch + death. Water = ouch + life. I think.

2) If you could do anything in the world for a living what would it be?

I would probably write. Of course, I'd need to suddenly learn how to write before that could happen. But just think! Writers can work from home (and home could be somewhere beautiful and remote like the countryside in Scotland or France!) and be sort of reclusive and have lots of animals to keep them company, and the best part? Nobody thinks they're weird for being alone.

3) Your favorite fictional animal?

Eeyore. I will always have a soft spot for gloomy old Eeyore.

4) One person who never fails to make you laugh?

My dad. His jokes are always cringe-worthy, but I love them, and what is sadder is that I am turning out JUST LIKE HIM. Let me give you examples.

Me (several years ago, in my old car): Dad, I just backed into a pole.
Dad: At least it wasn't a Russian.

Mum: Aly, I hate it when you insult me.
Me: Well, next time I will inpepper you.


5) When you were 12 years old what did you want to be when you grew up?

I wanted to be a veterinarian, because even then I loved animals.

6) What is the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning?

Roll over and go back to sleep. Then put contact liquid into my eyes because they are usually all dry and crusty and I can't see a thing.

7) Have you ever gone to therapy?

Not really; I remember being forced into seeing a counsellor when my parents separated for a while there, but I wasn't actually interested in being there. As for REAL therapy? Nope. But I've studied it.

8) If you could have one super power what would it be?

It would be flying. All the other ones have too many consequences. Although, I could do with reading people's minds, but only if there is an On/Off switch. That would be okay, too.

9) Your favorite cartoon character?

Aside from Eeyore? I really like this little dude.

His name is Pintsize, and he's a PC.

You can read all about him here at Questionable Content.

Very funny comic.

10) Do you go to church?

I don't. I haven't been for a very long time, such a long time that I don't really feel comfortable about going anymore. Every Christmas, my mum and I say we'll go, but then we never do. Which is strange. I'd like to at least get back into church mode in the holidays.

11) What is your best childhood memory?

Gosh. I don't even remember very much. How about going along with my family for car trips when he was on business - but it was ONLY fun when I could bring a friend along. Best one I can remember? Going down south, taking my friend Simone along. We wore gigantic parka jackets the whole time, went bowling, and watched the X-Files on TV until we were too terrified to sleep.

12) Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual?

I do not. I'm not old fashioned, but I would still love to get married. It's not even about the huge fuss of having the wedding, it's just about actually spending every day with the person that you love. That would be nice.

13) Do you own a gun?

Hell. No.

14) Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?

I beat Jason up all the time. Have even winded him a couple of times. I don't even know my own strength. Mwahaha. In all seriousness, though? No.

15) Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people?

Well, I was in the choir in primary school, and we got to sing in big competitions. But that was when my girly voice could sort of sing (and was masked by the dozens of other people singing, too.) As much as I'd love to be a decent singer (ha, SingStar decieves me!) there is no way. I'm not completely delusional.

16) What is the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?

A nice smile, one that makes their whole face light up and gives them crinkly eyes. I think I inherited that notion from my mum, she always used to mention the crinkly eyes thing.

17) What is your biggest mistake?

Telling myself I have no motivation, and actually believing it. Oh. And being an annoying person. That's a mistake, too.

18) Say something totally random about yourself.

I am sitting at my computer desk doing this survey whilst freezing my ass off and needing to pee, yet have made no move to actually rectify either of those things.

19) Has anyone ever said that you looked like a celebrity?

I did that test at My Heritage, and they told me that I look a bit like Katherine Heigl. Ha! I could only hope and dream to look like her, she's gorgeous! In actual fact, I look like nobody, because I don't know any celebrities that are overweight, do you?

20) What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you?

I'm spoiled lots on special occassions, and Jase always gets really thoughtful gifts. Like my black leather writing journal, my pretty earrings, flowers, and my Ipod! But romantic? Is always when he says "I love you" before I say it. And let's face it, I tend to say it alot. I'm a real girl, like that.

21) Do you actually read these when other people fill them out?

Sure, I do. I'm filling it out now, aren't I?

I'm going to tag;

Aimee, Jessy, and my momma.

Random Irritation for the Day (Pt 2) (Complete with links!)

Jen and I spent the afternoon online shopping.

We found the most wonderful things.

Like the stunningly beautiful (AND CHEAP!) diamond engagement rings that we're going to buy ourselves. Hey. A girl has to do what a girl has to do. But I'm not fussy. I like the el-cheapo diamonds. Although, there was also a one carat ring that costs the same amount as my car, that I certainly wouldn't complain about receiving.

Also? These nifty inventions called Liftits. Be sure to watch the demonstration, if you're not squeamish at the site of boob. We can't quite figure out where the skin goes though; and does it give you an instant bosom wax when you take it off? Yeee-owch.

Speaking of undergarment inventions, Jen discovered an undie site for the boys. PLEASE, for the love of all things humourous, click on the 2D simulation. Penis - Buttcheek - Penis - Buttcheek. Not the most flattering things to look at, but still, enjoyable!

I don't actually know who the heck Pedro is, but this shirt is still cute.

And could someone please explain to me where one would wear these abominations? Jeepers.

Amazon is actually hiding a rather kinky selection of undergarments. These would all work well with Liftits. Teehee. Although this one? Requires no Liftits. Rather, you just squish your boobage through the holes and ta-dah! Instant perkiness!

But the most lovely of all? Three things I was actually going to buy from Amazon. Even in Aussie dollars and including shipping, they would have been awesome.

The cute brown sunnies.
The glitzy wedges.

So, I got all excited. I checked the conversion rates and then double checked them. Even checked the credit card to make sure I had enough funds for a mini splurge. Proceeded to the checkout, only to find that ALL THREE of those items cannot be shipped internationally.

Mother fuckers!

Instead, they're all going into the wishlist. Where I shall stare at them and breathe huge sighs of disappointment.

So that's my second Monday irritation. I'm rather peeved, mostly over the Chucks.

Nothing much else to say, I'm going to go mope around the house now. Unless of course, someone would like to purchase me the previously mentioned gorgeous shoes, and then I shall love you for ever and ever. But until then? Mope.

Random Irritation for the Day.

Look. I'm running out of things to blog about, what with having no school stories right now.

If you're still reading, congratulations to you. If you're running away with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, I completely understand. Yawn.


What's irritating me for today? (Aside from having an extremely bloated day, so bloated in fact that I had to change gym pants because the other ones made me look like my thighs were going to rip all the seams open aka the holey crotch pants.)

Word Verification prompts.

Yes, yes, I do know they have a purpose. I am not a complete moron (!) and I know they are to minimise spam and robots and all that other technological crap. But it seems that wherever I go lately, I'm greeted with them.

That doesn't exactly bother me. That's ok. I can take 5 minutes out of my insanely hectic not very busy schedule to type the damn numbers in and have it over with. But when I type the numbers in THE RIGHT WAY, and yet my comment still refuses to go through? Gah! It's so irritating.

I've once had to retype the damn letters in four times before it decided I wasn't a robot. And I SWEAR that I had typed them in correctly all. four. times. Seriously!

Where am I going with this? Heck, I don't know. But this is what I have to say to those insanely crazy prompt boxes of doom.

P.S. Because I am a blog stalker, of course I will still read your blog if you use word verifications. I'll just whine about it, hee. As you do.

P.P.S. Please, feel free to share any of your Monday irritations too!

600, baby!

From now on, I think I shall have a "Hundredth" blog commenter award.

I'm sure it'll take on soon, and become the next big thing in the world of blogging. (aka amalah) Or not. Haha.

I should also mention that this "Hundredth" blog commenter award is invisible. Please do not let it's invisible-ness take away from it's grandness. It is still a mighty wonderful achievement. Indeed.

Let's call it the HACAH blog commenter award. (And let's all pronounce it together now, people: HACK-ARRRR.)

You might be wondering, Aly, what the heck does HACAH stand for?

HACAH: Hundredth Aly Commenter Award - Hoorah!

Duh. What ELSE would it stand for?


My extremely special first HACAH award goes to the very lovely Lala, also known as Julia, also known as Julaberry, also known as that cute chick with lovely teeth who has a slight obsession with feet.

Thankyou for being one of my favourite people to stalk, who just so happens to also return the favour.


I just realised I forgot to post about Julie's visit, and that was forever ago.

So consider this a belated post. Highlights?

  • Getting lost on the way to Kirby's house.

  • KIRBY!

  • Kirby's niece, Elizabeth, possibly the smiliest baby in the world. Who liked my toes!

  • Driving behind a boat (!) with it's blinker on the whole way to the airport.

  • Finding Jen.

  • JEN!

  • Not finding Julie.

  • Finally finding Julie.

  • JULIE!

  • Watching bad drama movies on Arena!

  • McDonalds frozen coke lids. Who knew they doubled as bras?

  • Dinner on the grass, complete with ninjas. HIII-YAA!

  • Me getting PMS and acting like a whiny whiner.

  • Sleeping with Jen (ooh-ee!)

  • Scary trucks and hallways making me paranoid.


  • Kirby's snail book-shelf divider that looks like a penis. Wait, it might have been a turtle? I don't remember.

  • Tim Tam Iced Chocolates at Gloria Jeans.

Basically? All three of those girls are wonderful. And I'm a very lucky chickadee to have met them. Thankyou fate, for happening to bring us together on a now non-existant messageboard.

P.S. Another visit please Julie, as we need to actually take a photo of ALL FOUR OF US NEXT TIME.

Oh, the shame.

My brand new gym pants (stretchy capri sort of pants, very daggy, very gym-ish) have just kindly informed me that I have been walking around with not one, but two rather large holes in the nether-regions.

Might I just add that these are pants which I purchased only LAST WEEK?

Let's pretend that I bought them from a very high class sporting goods store, and not a very cheap junk-style shop, where they only cost me $10. Because that is so not the point. Holes! And I've worn these pants maybe twice in the past week, washed once.

I am now sort of panicking.

Were these holes visible as I was doing my weights? And my jogging? Or even walking to my car and back?

Oh God. I just realised I did stretches after my workout today.

Stretches with my ass sticking out in the air.

And I thought I looked so fabulously sporty because wow! I can stretch! Look at me stretching! My gym body must be in here somewhere!

Apparently, all I looked like was a red-faced, sweaty baboon with a HOLE in her crotch.

No wonder people smiled at me today.

Sunday Scribblings: Assignment

Funnily enough, I have done a lot of people watching lately; I blame the circuit course at the gym, there really is nothing else to do apart from watch the other ladies working out OR stare at the floor.

Picture this;

A woman of average height, who is quite fit but oddly proportioned for it. She has...


You know. That just isn't working for me. I feel awkward describing someone else, even just for character reference. So shoot me. I'll just do myself. From someone else's perspective. Or at least, I'll try. -gulp- Part fiction/part reality/part a story in itself. Yipes. Let's try again.

Picture this;

I've seen this woman before; sitting in her car at a set of traffic lights, idly watching the world go by out her window. My car is in the lane next to hers; stationary, just the same. A perfect place for observing.

She seems of average height, although possibly a little bit taller than most. Her hair is lying on her shoulders, golden strands glinting in the sunlight as it moves through the tinted car windows. It lays flat and untouched, though shortly starts blowing in the breeze inside the car (air conditioning vents perhaps?) so in a quick motion, she pulls it back off her face and secures it with an elastic band. While she does so, I observe her hands. She wears no jewellery apart from a black banded watch; I wonder why this is so?

Does she own pretty trinkets, and has simply forgotten to wear them on this particular morning? Does she prefer silver or gold jewellery? Would she wear a bracelet, or just a ring or two. Which fingers would she wear her rings on; is she married? These questions will need to lie unanswered in this moment.

The lights change, and her car accelerates. With a shake of my head, I realise that our chance encounter is over. I continue along my merry way. About five minutes down the road, my car brakes at another intersection. I happen to look to my left, and to my surprise, there she is again.

She is glancing out the window again and stares right at me. Although she is looking in my direction, I get the feeling she is not really seeing; More like she is just doing the motions. She reaches down to her dashboard and fiddles with something. I crane my neck a bit, and see that she has an Ipod sitting in a console; perhaps she is changing songs?

I wonder what she listens to. Is it old classic music, like the music coming out of my stereo right now? Or is it something more contemporary, some band which I wouldn't even know the name of. I wish her window was rolled down, so I could hear. Her lips are moving to some unknown tune - her actions are reserved though, not carefree. Perhaps subconsciously she knows that she is being observed?

Feeling nosey (and very stalker-like) this time when the traffic lights change, it is my car which disappears first. Soon enough I arrive at my destination, and walk into the supermarket. Needing to select just a few items, I begin making my away around the aisles. Once done, I walked to the registers; then realised that I had forgotten to get milk. Ironically, I am greeted with a sense of dejavu.

Yes, it is the woman again, this time standing. She is not lean, and is wearing a summer skirt and a top with sleeves. Maybe she wears this sort of clothing to cover herself up, perhaps she feels uncomfortable wearing today's summer fashions. Not that I blame her myself, what with all the horrible clothing that is around these days.

Several young children run past her, playing a game of hide and seek while their mother frantically pushes the grocery trolley towards the dairy area. I watch, as one of the kids tumbles into the woman, causing her to nearly drop her low-fat milk. She gives him a look, which makes him turn and scamper off; in that one look, her eyebrow raises and her face becomes stern. She notices me then, shakes her head and rolls her eyes, and then she is off - heading to the front of the store.

Grabbing my carton, I follow her. She gives a small smile to the girl at the counter, makes no small-talk, pays with a debit card, and out she goes. Even the way she walks is interesting; once again she is looking, without really seeing. An interesting character indeed, this one.

We go off in different directions. As I get back in my car, I turn to the left and see a tall man folding himself into his very small car. He pulls out his cellphone; I wonder if he is calling someone else, or whether it is he that has been called.....


Well, I tried to be as realistic about myself as I could; I do actually sing along in the car (and own an Ipod converter thingy). My hair is a part of me that I love, although it drives me crazy and ends up tied back the majority of the time. I am not a skinny person, and dress accordingly (at least, I think so!) and am a big fan of nice skirts. Oh, yes. My tolerance for children acting bratty is in the negatives. Don't judge me on that one; I get enough of them in my classroom at work. Hopefully this fit with the prompt, even though it is not exactly as the instructions hinted.

For more scribblings, you can visit here.

A Sunny WHAT?

This is for Aimee.

And the other readers who had NFC (er, no freaking clue) what the hell a Sunny Boy was.

You can even read more about it here. There are different flavours! I want me a Cola one. Mmm.

And with a flourish, I shall unveil to one and all..

My most recent attempt at blog re-decorating!

And now, me and my insecure personality would like your verdict, please and thankyou.

Is it decent?
Is is making you want to shut down your computer and run for the hills?
Is it so overwhelmingly purple and girly and omg! that it makes your eyeballs bleed?
Is it oh-so-pretty and makes you want to stay forever and ever?

Okay, if none of the above fit, please add your own. Comments welcomed on this one, folks. (Well, DUH.)

I am a twit.

Yes, indeed I am.

Today is rather humid, and most likely over the 30o (celcius) mark (in Spring!) which basically means, it's pretty fucking hot.

I ventured into the depths of the freezer and came out with some old ice blocks from last summer. Taste tested one, it was pretty good, I didn't die, so all was okay. It was an Orange flavoured Sunny Boy. Basically, a triangular chunk of ice with orange flavouring.

It's been a long time since I enjoyed an ice block. It always reminds me back to my own primary school days, where you could buy a whole ice block for 10c. Le sigh. Those were the days!

All was well. I was savouring every lick, enjoying the coldness. Until I realised that half of the ice block was not actually edible anymore (unless one has teeth of metal) because the freezer had REALLY frozen the poor thing. I was about to throw it away, when I suddenly discovered that down the bottom of the packaging, there was some of that orangey liquidy goodness. So, I did what any normal person would (haha, or not.)

I tipped the iceblock sideways. And proceeded to spill orange goop on my NEW SEXY JOGGERS, ohemgee. Frantically, I dodged the clothing piles on the floor and reached for a tissue, and at the same time proceeded to give myself frostburn in one hand from holding the chunk of ice formerly known as a Sunny Boy.

Crisis averted; thankfully the liquid had missed the fabric part of my joggers and gotten the plastic instead. Phew.

You would think I would learn? Hah. Apparently not.

I tried again. And this time, proceeded to spill the goop all over my gym pants and shirt.

Yeah, yeah. After running downstairs and throwing them all in the wash (before said goopy orangey stuff could set and stain all my clothes) I came back up. The Sunny Boy was sitting innocently propped up against my computer monitor. We stared at each other, neither one moving.

And then I did what had to be done.

Grabbed the chunk of ice with both hands, chucked the packaging away and proceeded to suck every last drop of orange liquid from the ice block, before happily going on my way.

Summer. Mmmbleh.

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