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I don’t mean to brag, but I am dynamite at contacting stuff. I don’t know what this stuff is called in other countries, I think it’s called “sticky backed plastic” in the UK, it’s that clear film you cover books and stuff with. Anyway, when I started working at the library my job included processing magazines and this included contacting the one off special edition mags so they’d last longer. With a batch of 50 to 100 of these, you get skilled fast. I can get a magazine covered without bubbles or wrinkles in the blink of an eye. It’s poetry to watch.

I mention this because I did some contacting today at home andit was a nightmare. I’m not sure if it’s the contact i bought (the local newsagency, when asked for clear contact, offered me white. I said “I need to read through it” they said “OK, well, this is white it’s the same”…) which is thin and comes in scrawny little one metre rolls (I’m used to the thick stuff from work, which comes in big fat rolls) or the fact that despite being crafty and having a crafty mother, there doesn’t seem to be a single craft knife in thehouse anymore soI had to use scissors, but it was a nasty time. I was shocked.

Also, a trip to the opshop today ended with me buying the shoes i was born to own. For someone who isn’t exactly girly or feminine I do have that shoe thing. Of course, no matter how many pairs I own, I only wear two on rotation but am trying to remember to wear boots more because i have a lot of boots. These are also boots, they are brand new and have buckles and things. I am very pleased with myself on this. Plus they were $8. Gotta love Opshops.

How many search bars do i need? i have three now, the google one I use and a couple of other “automatic installations” which are proving tricky to remove. I got the new yahoo messenger today, so that accounts for one of them. It’s a funky little IM programme, my avi is drop dead gorgeous, whoot. Lots of new buttons to press, they know how to keep me chirpy.

I’m different, I don’t care who knows it, something about me is just not the same, I’m different, that’s how it goes, I’m not going to play your goddam game, I’ve got a different way of talking, got a different kind of smile, got a different way of walking….

Ok, i stopped that coz the next line is “Drives the women kind of wild” which doesn’t quite fit, although the “When I look in the mirror, I like the man” is getting more true every day, annoyingly.

Anyway, it struck me tonight as I leapt to defend kangaroos (not from Jonah, surprisingly…) that for a person without a single shred of courage in her convictions, I picked some good ones. Animal rights, the environment and so forth. Just the ones people really like to sit down and have a go at. In these times, I either verbally fold (ie, end up saying “yeah yeah OK, you’re right” without meaning it) or I walk away. It’s a flaw. If you have an opinion you should be able to hold it.

Also, if you were wondering, the idea of leaving books sitting around for people to pick up is Not Normal. Also, talking to naked people online (apparently everyone online is naked. This is alarming news, I’ve been fully dressed all this time, no one told me) is Not Normal. I’m sorry, they are going to have to come up with something better than Not Normal.

I was never a Goth, Hippy, Surfie.. I was never in a group or a culture, I was just me. Never a cool girl (I called them “heathers” after the Winona Ryder movie), probably a dag always but eh. At school my defining identity was Fat Chick. This was followed by Drama Chick (from the Drama course, not from.. you know… drama). These blended well “You’re the Fat Drama Chick, aren’t you?” “Yes, yes I am”. Any claim to fame is something. Anyway, I’m still not anything and yet I’m still not able to sit comfortably in my ideals and opinions. Perhaps I’m due a rethink, but then again, if I wait on it, it may sort itself out.

Although, thinking it over right now, I think i’m probably the punchline. I’m waiting on the joke.

Yes, ladies and gents, I am besotted. Obessed. Gazing adoringly at my new beloved. OK, so it’s a website - but it’s more than that, it’s a concept I am embracing whole heartedly. BookCrossing is such a perfectly simple and elegant idea. It works thusly: You sign up and register a book. This gets you an ID number for that book which you write in the front cover, along with the URL and a little note about BookCrossing (or you can print off labels). then you go somewhere public and leave the book there. I “released a book into the wild” at work today by leaving it on top of the booksale. You list where you left it and when and, in the ideal situation, the person who finds it then logs on to the site, enters the number and reports it captured. The idea then goes on, when they have finsihed with your book, they leave it… and so on. Of course there are flaws. The book can be taken and disposed of, or the person who finds it may not be webminded, but isn’t it a lovely idea? i know mine has gone, but they’ve not reported it and maybe they won’t, it doesn’t matter. They say they want to turn the world into a library, and as you can imagine, I’m all for that :D

I like bugs. I think they are interesting, beautiful and amazing. I can watch them for hours at a time, captivated by their design. This is, apparently, not the right thing to do. The right thing to do, I’m told, is say “Ew! Bug!” and squish, spray or flick. Possibly all three. A person is not supposed to crawl along watching, or catch and release in order to prevent said bug being … well, sprayed or squished. Spiders I’m less fond of, although they do interest me. There’s something in the way they move that is a little icky for want of a better word. I catch them at work tho, otherwise they get the full force of the Encyclopedia Britannica reigned down upon them. Doesn’t seem fair.

That overly yellowed image is of the kind of ant I took outside today. Apparently they are supposed to be aggressive. Once, I was watching one at home and i leaned in to have a closer look. The little ant cowered like a scared dog. Poor thing.

Also, I like rain. Today was spectacular for rain. Ok, slightly annoying to have rain inside (right next to the 15 minute e-mail PCs, fabulous), but there’s something about looking out on a dark, stormy day… wow :)

First off, and this IS worth mentioning - GOOD hair day! Whoot.

Ok, change of plan ladies, gents and Other. I have decided, upon the advice of Jackie, Barb, Diane and Tracey, to not rent, but to save up a deposit and enter into the Great Australian Dream of a huge morgage. Yay. I’m trying to not let an online home loan calculator saying I can only borrow $15,000 put me off here. Yes, it does mean staying here for a while more, but I think I can save up a decent amount in a shortish amount of time. I am aiming to at least have an application in by November.

Where to begin with Paul Hogan? I could say “I’d quite like to maim Paul Hogan” but the surgeons did that already in the name of plastic surgery (baaaaaaad plastic surgery). The first time I saw his new face was very alarming and I had to take to my bed for a week and survive on tea and chocolate. Oh, the humanity.

There was an advertising campaign here that ran, i think, at the same time as the first one in the US trying to tempt people to come see Australia. The adverts were to encourage people to be nice to tourists and “Say Gidday!”. There was a jingle which I have thankfully forgotten, but I do remember people leaning out of car windows with HUGE fake smiles that looked slighty painful and saying “G’DAY!” with all the passion they could muster. This was sometimes matched with a big, cheesy, thumbs up sign. I think perhaps anyone wandering out of an airport to this kind of behaviour would be wise to turn around and go back.

Anyway, it is mainly due to Paul Hogan (and in no small part Steve Irwin) that i get a certain set of questions over and over again, as well as comments like “Throw another shrimp on the barbie!” or “Fosters, it’s Australian for Beer!”. This second comment I always reply to in the same way by saying “Actually, Australian for Beer is… beer. Try and keep up”. The first comment I tend to respond to with “Crikey mate, bloody good idea. You crack a tinny, I’ll grab an esky and turn on the footy!”. This is usually followed with “heh heh, you’re Australian!”.

I am Australian, and yes, i do see kangaroos on a daily basis BUT I don’t live in the suburbs or city. JP, I know you don’t believe me but I do so too! Nyah nyah! My country is bigger than yours and we have more sunshine. Sorry, where was I? Oh, yes. The idea that kangaroos are just leaping about in the middle of Melbourne is a common one. they’d play merry havoc with the tram system.

I never considered myself to be overly Aussie in how I spoke (or, what with it being TSO, how I typed) until Buttercup said “You know, I never know what you’re talking about”. Damn.

Oh well now, this was a matter of time. Now, instead of switching off the PC, console or TV to go for a walk or whatever, you can just get a Time Ryder and pretend you’re working out. All good. I’ve no idea if it works, but at least your friends and loved ones can point and laugh at your new chair. I wonder how hard it would be to cycle while steering a race car or Mario Brother of your choice.