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Tuesday, September 30, 2003

So the Pies played and lost and Mr R is all sad and grumpy. But I am glad that another football season is over, at least because that means summer is here and the weather can only get better.

In other news, I spent yesterday grappling with tradesmen. The sentence sounds a lot more fun that it actually was, as I dealt with yet more building/renovating dramas. Shower screen was bowed. Kitchen still not finished and kitchen place not returning our calls. Quotes from two evaporative air conditioning men prove that nobody knows anything, with one swearing black and blue that a particular brand is the best, and another claiming that it is terrible. Floor sanding is taking so long it is looking for entry in Guinness Book of Renovating Records. Trying to work out how to screw legs on 90kg oven and maneuver it into kitchen without scratching new floor. I think you get the drift.

Had a great time on the weekend with the assorted children that now attend all functions with my group of friends. Not sure where all of these kids have come from, one minute we were a bunch of fun loving youngsters, and now we seem to have a bunch of fun loving youngsters.

That’s the great bit about not having kids, I can play with them until I get sick of it and then just hand them back when they smell. I love the drama of being a little kid – everything is either the end of the world or the best thing you have ever seen. The excitement expressed over a mere donut, and the tragedy when it is taken away (by parents who feel enough sugar has passed lips for one day)…. You’ve got to love a good tantrum.

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Friday, September 26, 2003

Things I am looking forward to this weekend:-

1. Spring Weather.
2. Grand Final BBQ with friends and many little kids to play with.
3. Collingwood winning the Grand Final putting Mr R in a very happy mood.
4. The house being a no-go zone because the floors are being sanded and polished, which equates to time for me to do what I like. Shopping! Breakfast in Carlton! Lunch in St Kilda! Sleeping until midday! So many options I cant even begin to choose.

Things I am NOT looking forward to this weekend:-

1. Spring Weather, raining one minute, hailing the next.
2. Grand Final BBQ with friends and many little kids to annoy me and not let me concentrate on the game.
3. Collingwood losing the Grand Final putting Mr R in a very grumpy mood.


Lets hope it is all the former rather than the latter.

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Wednesday, September 24, 2003

In the past when I have to decide what team to barrack for on Grand Final day, I have agonised over the decision (it has not been my team for a VERY long time). Collingwood supporters can be very annoying (apart from you Mr R!), but then so can Lions supporters, so it is a bit hard to choose.

After much deliberation I have developed the perfect system of choosing which team to support. It is rather complicated, but yet beautiful in it’s all encompassing parameters, feel free to adopt and adapt as necessary.

1. Carefully study both teams’ team photos. Rate each team on their looks, particularly how good they look in their shorts. If unsure, you may need to do some further research and watch them playing (TV coverage is fine). Award bonus points for players whose underwear you have seen in particularly rough tackles during the season.

2. Consider your existing wardrobe, and extract all items in the competing teams colours. Couple this with consideration of one’s own hair colour and complexion. If need be, go shopping in a quest for the perfect outfit meeting the colour requirements, yet still adaptable to other situations in the future. Remember that nobody looks good in teal and be thankful that Port Adelaide are no longer in contention. Decide on one outfit for each team, then mark each one out of ten considering comfort, warmth, look, adaptability and cost.

3. Drink eight beers and listen to the two club’s theme songs. Mark each one on which sounds better slurred and yelled out of tune. Award extra points for ridiculous lyrics like “the Premierships a cake walk” which are great to sing and make fun of.

4. Find out who your enemies are barracking for, and award extra bonus points to the other team.

5. Consider the “when they last won a premiership” factor, give bonus points to the team that hasn’t won for the longest.

6. Add up all the points, and then fall asleep with all the effort and the eight beers. Forget which team you decided on, and flip a coin.

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Do you remember when you were a little kid, and time went sooooo s l o w l y. Particularly the days before a big event like your birthday. But now the days go so quick I can’t believe that it is Wednesday already and I haven’t updated this thing since last Friday.

So! The Pies are in the Grand Final, and Mr R is happy that he has most probably secured himself a seat for the big game, without us needing to take out a second mortgage on the house. We went to the game on Saturday, and I felt a bit sorry for the Port supporters who had to put up with the feral Pies supporters making choking actions and noises at them. It must be a bit off putting to have someone gagging in your face. I am actually surprised that there are not more fights at the footy, given how horrible supporters can be to one another.

On Saturday we had standing room tickets, which gives you the right to stand in a particular section of the ground. I’m not sure what standing room etiquette is, but Mr R nearly came to blows with an old lady Port supporter, as we arrived and stood in front of her (on the step down) and she wasn’t too happy about that. The thing is, there was nowhere else to stand, and it is not really our fault that we are tall and she was 5 foot tall. If I was 5 foot tall, I would have got there extra early and stood at the very very front of the standing room section, but she got there extra early and stood at the very very back of the standing room section on one of the higher tiers. Luckily the cheers of the crowd eventually drowned out her whining, and then she was remarkably quiet in the second half anyway, or else my peaceful and quiet husband just may have snapped!

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Friday, September 19, 2003

As I said some time ago, I am intent on winning a large prize of some sort. When I was a little girl and somebody asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I would say “win tattslotto!”, and really, can you think of a better ambition for a young child?

So anyways, as the saying goes, you have to be in it to win it, and yesterday I lined up to buy the winning ticket for this weekend’s $18 million dollar jackpot.

Deciding on how to spend this $18 million has taken up a lot of my time since the purchase of the ticket, as it is very important to be prepared. I’d hate to win and then not enjoy it because I was so worried about how to use all that money. So far the family have been taken care of, and as I don’t want to alienate our friends they will get a share too. This raises the problem of who is a good enough friend to get some cash? Will we offend some friends if we don’t give them cash too? And then I am torn between which charity to support, should I make a big donation to one, or spread it around a bit? And then what about work – should I give it up to live a life of leisure, or will I get too bored to do that?

So I still have a bit of thinking to do before the big draw but I’m sure that these problems will be resolved, so don’t worry too much on my behalf.

On other matters – I am unbelievably glad that it is Friday, and Melbourne looks like it is in for a lovely Spring weekend – 24 on Sunday, which is just as well because it is absolutely pouring at the moment.

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Wednesday, September 17, 2003

We are off to the football this weekend, to see the MIGHTY PIES
wallop Port Adelaide. You may think from that sentence that I am a Collingwood supporter, when in actual fact I am a Western Bulldogs gal through and through. But as we finished on the bottom of the ladder, and my lovely hubby is a big Pies man, then I am right behind my second team.

I sometimes find the football, well, a bit boring (I suppose that is because we lose all the time), and I end up mostly watching the crowd. It never ceases to amaze me the mix of people you get at an AFL game, from all walks of life, and the passion of many of them is something to behold. But a couple of weeks ago we watched the Pies triumph over the Brisbane Lions, and I have to say that it was a very exciting match to be at. So lets hope this weekend turns out the same. GO PIES.

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Tuesday, September 16, 2003

I had a lovely weekend, mostly spent cleaning up what I affectionately term the “fucking building site”, to try and make it look more like a home. I am at the point where I don’t believe that this renovation will EVER be finished, and if I manage to walk out of the house in the morning without a smear of plaster dust on my clothes AND to walk down the mud pit driveway without ruining my shoes, then that constitutes the best day I have had for about six months.

So if that wasn’t enough excitement for one weekend, we also managed to wrangle invitations to dinner parties on both Friday and Saturday nights (very handy when you don’t have a kitchen). I have decided that my friends are just a bit too good at the whole dinner thing, they serve up amazing food, on immaculately decorated tables, and don’t have any disasters (unlike moi who once dropped an entire cheesecake on the floor moments before it was to be served). So I have decided that when I finally get my kitchen finished, I am going to have a “disaster” dinner party where nothing works. The soup will be tasteless and cold, the soufflé will flop, the meat will be burnt and I’ll mistake salt for sugar in the dessert. So we will all have to drink a lot instead, everyone will get roaring drunk, play stupid games and then pass out in the lounge room. Sounds like my sort of dinner party, and one that I think I might just be able to pull off.

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Wednesday, September 10, 2003

I have always been at heart a giggly teenager when it comes to spotting a famous person in “real life”. You may not know this from my super cool exterior, who pretends that I don’t even know there is anyone remotely famous anywhere near me, but inside I’m jumping around and squealing.

Living in Melbourne there is not the opportunity for famous people spotting that you may get in Hollywood. I’ve never come across Tom Cruise at my local supermarket, just maybe a ‘Neighbours’ star at the movies, or a big brother contestant at the pub. But any level of fame is usually enough for me, you should have seen me after I saw Spencer McLaren in Minimax at Chadstone - so cool I barely raised a sweat.
(Now I know how to link to things you cant stop me – I’m out of control!)

So the point of all this is that a friend of mine has just become mega famous (by my standards). She has always been a little famous, having appeared in numerous Australian musical productions over the last 7 years or so. But now she has her own leading role in the Australian production of “The Producers”.

So go Chloe! And forgive me if I act super cool every time I see you now, but inside I’ll be going CRAZY.

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Tuesday, September 09, 2003

Recently my new little baby nephew was born – and there were no surprises, he really did turn out to be a boy. He is of course adorable, as a biased Aunt I can say that, and he did manage to throw up on me on Sunday which of course is always a good way to bond with someone you don’t know very well. Just ask Uni students on an Orientation week pub crawl. Thanks to a recommendation from Suzette who has one for Jasmine, he is also the proud owner of his very own bear Bonkers.

Anyhoo, my Sister in Law and her husband have a nice little tradition of using a musical link for the middle name of the child. Nephew number one has a middle name of “Marley”, a homage to all things Bob. This naming tradition is a little difficult for older members of the family to understand, in particular Mr R’s Mum who has spent the last week or so telling everyone that the new bub’s middle name was “Parker – after Ben Parker I think, not that I know who that is!” It took a young and hip niece to point out that it was “Harper” and not “Parker”.

I’m thinking that it is a great thing that the musical tastes of my sister and brother in law have amended themselves so well to this naming scenario. And that I don’t have a nephew called “Diamond”, or “White Stripe” or “Kylie” or “Chilli Pepper” . But come to think of it, the later may have satisfied my older nephew’s fixation on naming after inanimate objects…

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Monday, September 08, 2003

Some of the very observant readers may have noticed that I began this site with a pseudonym for a reason that now escapes me. Maybe I thought that I would be cyber stalked or something. So this worked for about 5 minutes until I forgot what I was doing and you will now see that the posts are indeed posted under my real name.

I have never been very good at the whole lying / subterfuge type scenario. Don’t ever ask me about your new haircut or if I like you boyfriend unless you really want to know the answer.

This does remind me of a story of when I was just a young lass, maybe about 5 or 6. Every Easter we would go on a holiday with a group of other families and all of their kids. The tradition was that the Dad’s would take all of the kids out for a long walk, while the Mums drank Chardonnay and hid the Easter Eggs.

Whilst we were out on this walk, there was always much talk about the Easter Bunny, who was apparently known to be hopping around those parts. The other kids all managed to spot him on the walk, “Wow, I just saw his fluffy tail!!” or “There’s his pointy ears!” That is all except for me, who was in tears by the time we got back as I was feeling very stupid and left out of things by not being as quick and observant as all of the other kids.

So I don’t know that this honest streak has always brought me happiness, but I guess it isn’t generally a bad way to be.

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Friday, September 05, 2003

I have been thinking of things to cheer me up. And I have decided to tell you all a story about a good friend of mine, as it is always funny to laugh at something stupid that somebody else did.

My friend is a very good golfer, and one weekend he was playing in a golf tournament. This weekend also happened to be a study weekend for his Uni course, so the plan was that he would arrange to tee off early in the day, so he could then hurry off to the Uni weekend.

The golf went fine, and he went back to his car to load his golf clubs. He opened the car door, and then opened the boot of the car, threw his car keys into his golf bag, put the golf bag into the boot and shut the boot.

So he had locked his keys in the boot. The car was open, so when he realised what he had done he called the RACV to come and open the boot and sat down in his car to wait. An hour later the RACV turn up and try for while to open the boot, until they give up and call a locksmith.

An hour later the locksmith shows up, and says to my friend who is sitting in the drivers seat (banging his head against the steering wheel in frustration)

“G’Day mate. Locked the keys in the boot? That’s funny, I thought this model had a boot release button.”

The penny dropped. He did have a boot release button, right next to the drivers seat.

Ahhh, I love a good story about how silly someone else is (cause more than often the stories are about me – but I’ll save them for another time).

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Thursday, September 04, 2003

A friend of mine died yesterday. He was 33. Married with a young son only 18 months old. I’m not sure yet exactly what happened, but he was sick with some sort of virus, he went to hospital, and then he died.

He was an old friend of my husband’s, and whilst we hadn’t seen him for a while, he was the kind of guy who when you did see him it was just like old times. He was one of those perfect people, friendly, popular, gorgeous, funny, warm, genuine, charming; who you were proud to know and count as a friend.

I am in shock, and have this blanket of sadness over me, that I had only just managed to lift after someone I work with recently died at a tragically young age (he was 30). I have never thought that the world made any sense, and sometimes it seems that it really never will.

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Tuesday, September 02, 2003

Mr R and I have spent the last couple of weeks on holidays from work, at home trying to finish our blasted renovation. It is unbelievable how long it takes to do things and I have a new respect for trades persons and how hard they work. And I thought they just slacked around all day sending out the apprentice for a left-handed screwdriver, or chequered paint.

This little “holiday” (if you call getting up at 6am and working all day until 6pm when I would collapse in a heap on the floor and Mr R would scream “get up and do some more painting woman!” a “holiday”) has also given me an opportunity to listen to daytime radio. I tried to vary the stations for variety and different competitions (I am still trying to win a big prize you may remember) so I am now well informed enough to state that TALKBACK RADIO SUCKS BIGTIME. To demonstrate I will recount a call that I heard when being forced to endure talkback with Ernie Sigley (that was the plumbers choice – I didn’t want him to muck up my new hot water system so I wasn’t complaining). Ok- it wont be exactly perfect but you will get the general idea (and I’ll try not to exaggerate too much)


Joyce : Hello, hello is that you Ernie? Ernie? I want to talk to Ernie!

Ernie: Hello Joyce, how lovely to talk to you.

Joyce: Oh Ernie! I am such a big fan, I love you

Ernie: Don’t make me blush Joyce!

Joyce: (Laughs)… (Laughs)…

Ernie: Did you have a question or comment Joyce? We are talking about Pauline Hanson’s jail sentence – did you think it was too harsh or fair?

Joyce: Absolutely Ernie

Ernie: Absolutely too harsh?

Joyce: Hmmm. I don’t really know.


And on they went. If it wasn’t roundabout Joyce type of call, it was the “vent all of my frustrations” type, or the “government conspiracy” type, or the “younger generation are inconsiderate” type, or the” nobody uses the English language properly” type. And then I remembered my ranting post about spelling and I realised that this blog is like my own little talkback radio forum. At least nobody can hang up on me. And I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t suck bigtime.

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