When the weather gets warmer here in Australia, it generally brings some form of environmental phenomenon with it. And sadly for the paranoid freaks among us, there are inevitably bugs that come along for the ride as well.

In Summer, out come the flies. Sticky, annoying, dirty flies. And even worse, are the baby flies, the ones that land on you and are practically impossible to shake off. The little buggers have the ability to get inside your house, even if your back door was only open for a split second. Also in Summer, come the Christmas Beetles. They are completely harmless beetles, but I've had a thing with them for years now, ever since we had our first pool. I remember swimming at night, and seeing them hightail it for the lights around the pool; subsequently getting stuck in my wet hair and making horrible buzzing noises.

Now I'm not a girly girl by any means, but I'm also not a fan of bugs. I don't make a sport of it or anything, but if an average sized cockroach ran out in front of me and I happened to have a shoe handy, I would be able to dispose of it. (Letting out a few girly shrieks along the way, of course.) Same with tiny spiders, I know I can stomp on them if the need arises.

But what I cannot stand, are bugs that are unpredictable. Like crickets or grasshoppers, who jump in any random direction; they freak me out. Like bees, who are able to aim their stingers at you should you get in their way. Same thing goes for those dratted Christmas Beetles, who always end up landing on you somehow. Keep 'em away, because I don't cope.

(Just ask Kirby, who just the other day was left in my kitchen when a bee had somehow gotten inside the house. Where was I, you ask? I'd ran outside flailing my arms & refused to come back in until she'd disposed of it for me.)

It isn't Summer yet, so I can hide out from those critters a little while longer. Things aren't all fine and dandy though, as Eastern Australia gets to experience another seasonal activity with bugs involved; the dreaded Bogong Moths. They can't hurt you. They don't bite. But they too, like the lights and have the bizarre habit of somehow ending up inside your house when every door and window is tightly closed.

Usually the moths don't bother me, they're just a bit of a pain when you're outside at night. But this year, they seem to have gone mental. I was bringing in washing from out on the clothesline, and no less than eight of them appeared out of the clothes as I was folding them. (Yes, feel free to imagine more girly shrieks here.)

They seem to be everywhere, and what's worse? They've gotten mean.

Instead of crazily bouncing around the walls staying near the lights, the moths have taken up dive bombing and purposely attacking humans. In the past few nights, I've had to close the bedroom door the minute that I see one is inside, for fear of being dive bombed. By a moth. I know, it's crazy. But I've heard stories, and it seems like this year the moths are going nuts. Something about their furry bodies and the gross noise that their wings make, is enough to have me scouring my room before I go to bed. Blech.

So tell me, does your region have any strange bug populations? Feel free to share your stories, if you aren't too squicked out already.

Ladies & Gentlemen, after a rather long hiatus, I'm proud to have finally gotten around to gathering some Sunday Google-age for you! (And I know, I know, it's Monday. But surely it's still Sunday in some part of the world, no?)

Feel free to cheer. Just let it all out. Go on. You know you want to.

What is Google-age?
I suppose I had better explain myself before I begin, lest new readers think I'm insane. Well, this is Google-age. You’re reading it, pal! Since my visitors usually end up here through searches, Google-age is a fun little wordplay that I do every so often. It rolls off the tongue well, what can I say?

Sweet Lovely Words for Birthday
Oh, Oh! I know this one! How about.. happy birthday? Or you could spice it up a bit, and turn it into a happy birthday lovely! Very sweet.

Brandon Boyd Touching
Wouldn't you want to touch him too, seeing this photo? (I was looking for the sassy picture of dear Brandon wearing a pirate hat and not much else, but sadly couldn't find it. What is this world coming to?)

School Assembly Items
Sadly I'm not much help with this one, because I can't even figure out what to do with my kidlets for their end of year performance. It doesn't help when you have a class of 16, and most of them won't even turn up on the night .. gah. How about we just do the Macarena?

I'm a Noun Tshirt
I love this shirt. Although it caused much confusion in my household.

Loch Ness Tshirt
I love this shirt too. Has a cute squid thing. Threadless is awesome.

Awesome Scrabble Shirt
I also love (and own) this shirt. I'm a wee bit addicted to slogan tees.

One Size Shirts
I have a thing with one size fits all ... because that usually guarantees that it won't fit me. Or it fits, but leaves you with icky back fat. Or gut fat. Or squished boobs. And squished boobs are good for no-one involved.

Colorblind Shirt Humor
Wouldn't you know it? I have just the shirt for you. Woo!

Aly
That's my name, don't wear it out. If you say it three times while looking in a mirror, absolutely nothing will happen to you. Go on, give it a try.

Foot Lick
I suppose when you have an entire month dedicated to your shoes, you're bound to get some crazies who want to lick your feet, right?

Feet Women
Yes, most women have feet. Be a little hard to walk without them.

Office Feet
Am guessing office feet are the same as, er, non-office feet, just with prettier and more fancy shoes?

Sucking the Teachers Toes
I don't have office feet. I have classroom feet. And I have to admit that all this talk of feet is starting to gross me out.

Smelly Thong
I'm putting this in with the feet searches, because for the last time, thongs are footwear! Not undies that disappear up your butt! Although when you think about it, either of them being smelly is sort of disgusting.

Contemplate the Consequences of my Actions
Very deep thinking there. I should do that more often; I could start with contemplating the consequences that polishing off a block of lemon cheesecake chocolate will have on my stomach.

If I was Tempted I Would Run
Yes, yes, I should've run away from the chocolate. I know. I know.

Reshape Lose Bum Gain Boobs
Wouldn't this be grand? We'd all look like Barbies. I'd like to reshape too, but mine would be something like Lose Gut, Gain Muscles. I'm quite happy with my boobs just the way they are.

I Fantasize Snuggling with a Girl
That's a very sweet fantasy, if you ask me. Some people prefer fantasizing about slightly dirtier things, though ...

Self-spanking Equipment
... Like self-spanking equipment! [wolf whistles] Naughty!

Blog Review
I had my blog reviewed a few months ago with not so wonderful results. In fact, it blew me away to read what she thought of me & my writing. Not so positive. Am still slightly scarred, actually. Rather depressing. Blargh.

Cut My Hair Short
I have issues with hair dressers, especially after the haircut of death. I didn't want my hair cut short, but that's what I got.

Mandy Moore's Hairstyles
She looks pretty hot with short hair though, even if it does look like she is sort of straddling a pole in the last picture.

Point the Finger
Speaking of fingers, someone needs to point theirs in the general direction of my treadmill downstairs, as that's where I should be right now instead of sitting on my arse writing this blog post. I am interested in who they're pointing their finger at though ...

Idiots Merging Lanes
If there's one thing I can't stand, it's drivers who shouldn't be out on the road. And sadly, merging lanes usually bring out the morons in packs. Put your indicator on early, stop edging in so close to my damn car and please, please just give me a thankyou wave. How hard is it to wave?

So Sexy
Now that's the kind of compliment a girl wants in the morning, thanks!

Pants Down
Perhaps you ought to invest in a nice, sturdy belt?

Red Padlock dvd Case
Oh no! The dreaded magnetically locked case! If you've got a red padlock showing on your dvd, it means the store hasn't de-magnetified (ha) it, and it won't open. You have two options here; take it back and have them open it for you, or get a kitchen knife and hack at the case until it opens. (It works, but it left my Gilmore Girls Season 3 set looking a little mangled.)

Bermuda Triangle History
Hmm, let's see. Big chunk of ocean, mysterious disappearances, spooky spooky. You can read about it here. Also a ride at Sea World.

Skirt Hike Moan Classroom
I may wear skirts from time to time, but I definitely don't hike in my classroom. And I can assure you that the only moaning comes from the kidlets when I make them write. And write. And write some more.

Met Lifehouse
Geez, way to rub it in. I'd settle to even get to see the band live, and you're meeting them? Bah humbug, you are mean.

Contiki Grand Southern
Squeeeeee, I'm so glad you brought this up. I don't think anyone realises just how freaking excited I am about getting to do my great American tour of '08. I'm excited! Super excited! Want to go now! NOW.

Contiki Cheating
Oh, I can assure you there will be no cheating on Contiki. Well, no doubt there will be some flings (there always are..) but I will not be involved. The only flings I will be having will be with my stalkerees.

Exotic Wedding Cakes
I don't know about exotic wedding cakes, but how about ...

Doughnut Wedding Cakes
... A doughnut wedding cake! Very sweet, and only slightly creepy.

Ding Dong Dang
It's a karaoke bar! I've taken pictures of it, but never been game enough to go there. My singing doesn't go further than my living room, or my car.

Pale Skin
My skin is not just pale, it's reflective. Whiter than a ghost.

Rabbit Dude
Instead of calling myself the Rabbit Whisperer, I think I'll stick with the Rabbit Dude. Let's see if this Rabbit Dude can answer the onslought of bunny questions that have been piling up over this past week.

Crazy Rabbit
Ricky would have to be the most crazed bunny I've had out of all my girls. Ever since he was a baby, he would nip you to get attention ... have you noticed I still call him a boy? I can't get into the habit of him being a her. Gah.

Cuddly Rabbit
I miss Bella and Lucy, my two cuddly rabbits. I hope they're snuggling together in bunny heaven right now.

Rabbit has Broken her Leg
Oh no! Poor wee thing, I do hope she's feeling okay.

My Rabbits Jaw Looks Swollen
Yikes - take it to the vet now. It could be a tooth abscess, or some sort of infection. Neither are very good, and it's better safe than sorry.

Panadeine for Rabbits
Er, I wouldn't be giving your rabbit panadeine. In fact, I wouldn't be giving your rabbit anything to do with medicine without seeing a vet first.

Female Rabbit Genitalia
Ha! You're asking the person who thought Ricky was a boy for months and was ready to have his bunny balls chopped off, only to discover that he was a girl the whole time anyway. And who still calls him a boy. Yeah. Apparently I'm not good at figuring out the sex of rabbits.

Cheap Skin Regime
Perhaps I should be asking you for your thoughts on a cheap skin regime. In fact, I did ask the masses for help just a few days ago. My current one involves soap and water. And judging by the fact that I'm still sort of dry and bumpy, I still need to find some sort of regime for my face. Good luck.

How Blotches Look Like
The grammar of that sentence makes my brain hurt, but luckily it's still the school holidays so I can just pretend it makes sense. Blotches look like, er, blotches. Big red splodges of colour, possibly dry, probably gross looking. They can be on your face. Or if you're a novice (finger) painter like I am, you could make a blotch on paper with any colour paint. Paint blotches are fun.

Numb Cheek
Uh oh. If your cheeks are numb, it could be the dreaded ...

Slap Cheek Syndrome
... Slap Cheek disease! Yargh! Also not-so-fondly known as parvovirus. Yes, that pet disease. No, you're not contagious to animals. But the novelty of telling people you've had parvo? Priceless.

Is it important for guys to have nice shoes?
Possibly the most important question of the day, and the answer? A strong, resounding YES. Had Jason been wearing icky shoes, I don't know what I would have done. You can read all about the importance of shoes here.

If you're someone who stops by via a feed burner, you probably won't notice anything particularly different about today's blog. Except for the strange title which was an inside joke of mine a few years ago, to which I can't remember the punchline for anymore. But if you still view blogs via their original links, you might notice that I've been changing themes like crazy.

Normal grey theme; nope. Stripes; argh. Floral; gorgeous, but just won't work. Basic; gah, boring. Random spotty blue & white design; that'll do for now.

Back before I had the ability to choose any random themes for myself, I complained about not having enough of a selection to choose from. Now that I am able to decide what I want? I'm having the hardest time finding a blog design that is me. There are countless sites out there with free wordpress themes, definitely; but I've only found the occasional one that fits what I'm looking for. Sadly though, all of the designs that I fell in love with, are ones that won't let you fiddle around with the widgets.

(Does that last sentence sound naughty or what?)

I'm sure there is a way around this, but considering that I have the technological skills of a toddler, I'm pretty much stuck.

I'd love to find a new theme ready for NaBloPoMo, but so far, no luck. This one will do for now, because I fear that if I keep searching this morning, my head may just explode. Instead, I'm putting it out there and leaving my blog in your capable hands; have you got any magnificent websites to share with sassy themes? I'm partial to free ones, because I am cheap. And hopeless. But am cheerful! And endearing! You know you want to help . . .

Consdering I'm blathering about it here on the blog, it really isn't a quiet victory at all. In fact, I think I will scream it from the rooftops;

I RAN MY FIRST 5km WITHOUT STOPPING TODAY!

My legs hate me, an hour later I'm still blotchy and don't ask me how long it took, but pah! Those things are beside the point - I did it! Without stopping! Or dying! And with only the occasional shin pain! Excuse me as I do a victory dance of joy. (I'd do a victory lap, but I may drop dead from exhaustion, so dancing will suffice.)

Break it down, now. [shimmies] Happy! Weekend.

Because not for lack of trying, I've lost the ability to string coherent paragraphs together today. Just ask Kristabella. I tried, I really did.

• As wonderful as the 'Great Delurking' was, I have a feeling that I'm forever going to be disappointed with comment numbers from now on; how am I meant to top those latest figures? Eh? Am completely and utterly spoiled.

• Speaking of blogs, I almost managed to make this one disappear this morning without even having to try. Turns out my old domain had expired, and I had forgotten to transfer it over to my newer one, causing the whole www.breathe-gently.blogspot.com link to explode into nothingness. It's fixed now. I think.

• Okay, this makes me sound like a real nerd, but we're still talking about blogs here, so go with it. You might have noticed my Sunday Google-age has been on hiatus lately, because I have been stubborn and not happy with the stat program I was using. Thanks to the lovely NPW I've got a new one, so everyone's favourite day of the week will be back up and running in no time.

• Are you completely overwhelmed with links yet? Phew.

• Thanks to the October exercise challenge, I am the cranky owner of a nasty looking blister on my foot. It's not on my heel, it's on the side of my foot and hurts like a mofo. (Sorry, couldn't resist throwing that in there.) It means not only am I hobbling around like an idiot, I'm also not able to wear my cute new Colorado wedge sandals because of the friction.

• Oh, and did you see my tally so far? Fear me, I am an exercise machine! (I did eat a hamburger last night, though. And it was marvellous.)

• My friend is away on a pacific cruise these holidays, and asked me to do one favour for her; tape Prison Break. -small voice- I forgot. I'm on a mission, does anyone have a copy of Episode 2 of the current season, so I can redeem myself?

• I cleaned out Ricky's rabbit hutch this morning, so put him in his enclosure so he could frolic about in the grass in the meantime. Imagine my surprise when I see my pure white bunny sitting on his towel fifteen minutes later, looking puzzled and swiping at his face with his paws. Er, the dog had peed on him. Through the bars. Pee. Yellow pee. White rabbit. You get the picture?

Feel free to keep the comment lovin' happening. Because every time you lurk and stay quiet, an innocent bunny gets peed on. Or something.

Er ... or maybe not? Since it's technically still the day earlier, I'm leaving the badge up. It's black, it's shiny, it has pretty script writing on it, and it encourages new visitors to say hello. Magic in a square box, if you ask me.

I didn't get too many new lurkers coming out of the woodwork, but I did get a lot of lovin' from the bloggers I adore the most; you*, who never fail to leave your words of wisdom when I need it the most. And that makes me happy, because you* are the bloggers who I know and adore and can't wait to continue** stalking. Group hug!

Anywho, NPW reminded me yesterday that it's that time of year again - NaBloPoMo! I succesfully completed this last year, and I intend on completing this with flying colours again next month. Heck, I might even win me a prize this year, should they be on offer! Click if you're interested in signing up for a month of blog-blabbing.

Be prepared for your blog feeds to light up with my posts next month, which might be a bit of a surprise to you. [long pause, tumbleweeds flying by] Ha, I jest; I secretly find this month of blog posting a bit of a breeze, since I'm a freak who posts every day anyway. NaBloPoMo is also on "The List", ready to tick off.

*Substitute your name in for the 'you', of course! I love you!
** I totally just typed 'contiki' instead of 'continue' back there. Nerd.

If there's one thing I used to be guilty of when it came to blogging, it would have been lurking. Not so much now, since my comfort zone has expanded and I generally don't shut up around here, but most definitely in the past.

It's intimidating leaving a comment where you're one of the masses. You know the blogs I'm talking about, the ones we read and adore ... but sometimes from afar. I know I used to leave comments anyway, but then as I began to learn more about blogging, I wondered if they were actually noticed in the long run at all. When I get a comment, it's directed straight to a blog folder in my email, and I can read every one of them there. Some days I'll respond to comments, some days I do not. But every single one of them is read, and is appreciated. Even the ones about my feet.

Personally, I'm easily pleased around here. There are some posts which I wrote in my early days that never really saw the light of day. (And really, I'm grateful for that. They were rather terrible.) There are some posts which I write with my tongue in my cheek, which aren't raking up the comments. (But who's counting?)

But then there are times when the amount of comments I get on a post simply blow me away, like the love and support you guys gave me in regards to losing Lucy a few days ago. People who don't blog, really just don't realise that taking the tiniest amount of time to leave a comment, no matter how small, can make a writer/rambler/whinger feel like the most important person on the planet. And that's what it's all about. Feeling good, and meeting new faces.

So on that chirpy note, I'm proudly taking part in The Great Mofo Delurk 2007. Any blogs I visit today will see a comment from me, just to get in the spirit of things. And as for your turn; if you're up to it, jump in and say hello - whether you're a regular or someone who has just stopped by. Pull up a chair, and get commenting.

I have to be honest about something; there is nothing in this world that is quite as boring as being on a diet. There, I said it. Even the dreaded 'd' word.

When you're trying to lose weight, the first few weeks are exhilerating. You monitor what is being shoved carefully placed in your mouth, you make the time to work out and you are generally pretty thrilled to see the numbers on the scale grudgingly go backwards. It's the perfect motivation, and you keep at it. You're in the zone, baby. But then . . . the novelty gradually wears off.

It's a few months later and you're a few kilograms lighter, even if your evil clothes refuse to budge sizes. You still don't enjoy exercising, even though people constantly tell you that you will eventually warm to it, and after trying all sorts of different activities. You stick with the same pattern of eating, you get paranoid about eating out and you have the tendency to blow tiny/accidental splurges into mammoth snacking sessions. It's just not fun anymore.

Oh, and the scales? They are your mortal enemy.

Hell yes, I'm talking about myself in this entry. [Results not typical.]

I've come to the point where at 11am, I just want to eat a fucking hamburger or three. I find myself glaring at people sitting in cafes who are innocently enjoying their meal without having to think about it. I think about food all of the bloody time. I put off exercising until I absolutely have to, instead of getting it over with quickly and enjoying how I feel afterwards.

And worst of all I am so, so critical of myself. I gave myself the goal of knocking Jason's socks off when I stepped off the plane on Christmas Day, but I'm nowhere near that goal. The problem with having set a standard for myself, is that I feel like crap because I haven't achieved it yet. I feel like I will be a disappointment. Since we're being honest, I'll even share my stats with you. (OhshitwhatamIdoing?)

In January, I was 95kgs. (209lbs) In September, I was 82kgs. (180lbs)

Don't get me wrong, I'm damn proud of myself for getting this far. And even if my belly roll hasn't subsided any, I do feel a lot different. It's just that here I am, months later with a long way to go. And my motivation? It has run off kicking and screaming for the hills. I'm not enjoying any part of this process anymore, and what should be some of the finer things of life are being replaced by over-thinking and over-analysing. And scarily, I'm setting myself up to fail; my subconscious is well and truly kicking my arse right now.

So, what can I do about it?

Option 1: I can whinge about it (always a great option, if you ask me) and keep things going the same way.
Option 2: I can give up (and spoil all these months of hard work, would rather not though. Obviously.)
Option 3: I can try to fix things. (Easier said than done.)

I want to get back on track, whinging along the way of course. But instead of being a food nazi, I'm going to focus more on how I move my arse.

It is with great long-winded pleasure that I introduce my October challenge; to see how many kms I can walk and run this month. And you know what? If I'm exercising, I'm totally allowed to have that damn hamburger. You just try and stop me!

At 11:55am on the 1st October, 2007, my darling Lucy-bun died in my arms.

The tiny wee floppy eared bun was the first one that came up to me in the pet store, I knew she was mine. I had no idea what to call her; the shoebox she was stored in was for a pair of Nike shoes, called "Lucy". That was it. Since we had driven to the store in two separate cars, so mum took Bella home in her shoebox, and I drove Lucy. I talked to her the entire way home, and haven't stopped since.

I worried about her all the time; Bella was so much bigger, and I was sure that my little Lucy was going to squeeze through the bars of her hutch! Lucy was tiny! I couldn't get over how small she was, or how delicate. But my two bunny girls adored each other, and would constantly snuggle and groom and flop.

She was always the snugglier of the two buns, and would love to just lie on your lap. She is the only bunny I've ever known that gave out bunny kisses. She was always so gentle, still adored snuggling and exploring, and was prone to headbutt you if you got in her way. (Which sort of hurt, actually.)

After discovering that she had been picked on and while looking after her horrible sores, we had kept her inside for the past two weeks. Lucy was adorable! She'd run to the bars to greet you, follow you around her cage and grunt at you when you picked her up.

Her sores had mostly healed, and she was doing fantastic; but I suppose it's really hard to know what goes on inside those tiny little bodies. Bunnies are resilient little creatures, so I had no idea that anything was wrong with her this morning.

She gave me her usual little squeak (a happy one!) as I put her out on the grass enclosure so she could run around, which she did as always. But a short time later, she had flopped to her side, and wasn't responding to anything. She couldn't stand, she couldn't hold her head up, and she looked terrible.

I gave her a little water, wrapped her in a towel and stayed with her - and she stopped breathing a while later. I have to say, this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, sitting with her, bawling and talking to her, not knowing what to say or do. But now my beautiful girl is gone, leaving me with another ache.

Rest in peace, my darling Lucy-bun. I'll remember you, always. And I'm so, so sorry.

. . . Well, I will be in about a year's time, anyway.

Here's the breaking news: The Great US tour of '08 is beginning in Hawaii!

Hawaii -> San Francisco -> Los Angeles -> Anaheim -> Las Vegas -> Cortez -> Alberquerque -> Amarillo -> Dallas -> Memphis -> New Orleans -> Pensacola -> Orlando -> St. Augustine -> Savannah -> Raleigh -> Washington DC -> New York.

Can someone tell me how I'll be able to wait an entire year for this?