Monday, November 04, 2002

Tuesday, November 05, 2002

This time of the year we have GuyFawkes on the 5th November. He was one of a bunch of Catholic terrorists back in the 17th Century, who, after Elizabeth I died, tried to blow up James I and the Prince of Wales by planting 36 barrels of gunpowder in the cellar of the Houses of Parliment. We know the name Guy Fawkes because he was the poor sap caught downstairs in the celler on the 5th November - I think he was framed - poor sap. Others were caught too and they were all hung drawn and quartered, but he was the first so it's his name we all know now. And so now, we of British decent like to blow stuff up on November the 5th to mark that failed plot to blow up the Houses of Parliment.

I had a lovely time on Sunday night watching Rosie and her husband light fireworks. The smell of the gunpowder smoke teleported me back to age 5. I'm not going to terrorise you with tales of Citizen Club Bonfires from when I was a child - already subjected Rosie to that.

Hope you all have a nice safe Guy Fawkes blowing stuff up - although, looking at the weather, mostly you'll be saving your crackers for the weekend.

It's an eventful day, actually.. being the first Tuesday in November, the Melbourne Cup ran this early evening. Its the race that stops Oceania in it's tracks. Australia has public holidays surrounding it and Kiwis in offices everywhere wear silly hats and have sweepstakes and wine and watch the race. People who never gamble on anything, will often take a small wager on the Melbourne Cup. I got to see the race today, but unlike every other year, there was no great build up - too busy at work, you see. We were invited next door to Executive Recruitment to join with their Cup celebrations, which was awfully kind of them. By the time we got there the race was just about to start, and we went back to work not long after it finished. Hopefully, next year, we'll have more time to dig into what it means to be a Downunderer on the 5th of November.

Thursday, November 07, 2002

ARIES (March 21-April 19): In order to be true to yourself and get what you want in the coming week, you'll have to be more generous and imaginative than usual. Here are a few activities that could help. 1. Send a letter expressing your admiration to a person whose good works fascinate you. 2. Dream up 20 new names for God, using ice cream flavors and dj names for inspiration. 3. Buy seven used gowns worn by famous actresses to the Academy Awards show, and send them gratis to seven Guatemalan grandmothers. 4. Find someone who is impossible to love and love them defiantly. 5. Try on the perspective of the poet John Keats, who said: "I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of Imagination."

Saturday, November 09, 2002

Elephants, yeah!
Kitten Vines

Sunday, November 10, 2002

Yes, I do requests. Please excuse the inconsistance tense in the following piece that got confused between being written to Joanne and being written to you.

Dear Jo,

You know my memory of my life is poor. That's your job, to remember all the things that have gone before. The Citizen Club was a place from my memory but a place I have never been. Dad used to belong and I'm guessing it was akin to Rotary but with more beer. I have memories of him going there sometimes, maybe evenings, after work and such. Two clear memories - well one fuzzy one and one not so fuzzy - Guy Fawkes bonfire and a christmas picnic respectively.

It seemed to me that the bonfire was a pine tree. To my big eyes inside a small body, it seemed to take half the night to walk from one end of the bonfire to the other. The flames went up so high I don't even remember bothing to look up to see them against the pitch dark sky above Rotorua. I have a recollection the bonfire was out and across from the road to where the Gondalas are now. In that area, anyway, for what it's worth accuracy wise. I must have been old enough because I was mostly on my own that evening, but Wayne wasn't with me. I am thinking I was around 7 or 8 or so. In those days it was different - or so we thought. I spent a lot of my childhood doing things adults couldn't have been aware of - surely they would have intervened. Anyways... I don't remember having much in the way of fireworks and mostly watched others and theirs. The roar of the fire and the heat on my face. The night was really cold and I had a parka and gumboots on. Boys were throwing double happies and tom thumbs into the fire and the banging would give me a fright when it was too close. I remember sparklers being so very hard to light - you had to hold them in the flame of a candle for an eternity before they caught - a match didn't burn long enough to spark a sparkler. I couldn't light my sparklers from the bonfire because the fire was too hot for the time needed to ingnite it. The wire of sparklers'd get too hot to hold all the way til they were finished.

I only have one small memory of that one big bonfire. Unless it was the same every year and its all melded into one memory - but i suspect not. I think the christmas picnic memories might have melded into one though. The Citizen Club's Christmas picnic at Little Waihi.

Do you remember Nana and Grandad's bach (pronounced batch - beach cottage) at Little Waihi? the small settlement around the ways from Makatu in the curve of the Bay of Plenty. Uncle Graham (dad's younger brother) had a place in Makatu. This year was a bit different in that the Chalkers brought their tent over and camped in the campground at Little Waihi. So it was a big Park Family affair. I remember Uncle Tony in the tug of war, and Debbie Chalker, [cousin] in the warm concrete trough pool [gross thinking about it now] which used to turn our blonde hair green. The lolly scrambles of MacIntosh sweets and how I'd never get any lollies because I wasn't fast enough or pushy enough [times have changed somewhat]. I remember the roundabout thingie shaped like an inverted cone that used to make us sick and dizzy in turns. The small riverlet between the sea and the madflats was a nice place to swim because it got deep fast.. the waterway between Little Waihi and Pukahina. Someone yelled "shark" once and we all had to scramble out of the water but I'm pretty sure there was no shark.

Most of all of those [or that] picnic I remember Dad laughing. His eyes crinkled in the corner from skin that spent a lot of time outside in salty air...and singing.. I remember him singing.

When we went back to stay at with Maree Chalker [now Laury - dubious spelling, michelle] at Pukahina the last Christmas, we went down to the Beach there and lit a fire. Sitting on the cool pale sand, drinking beer, the scent of smokey beach wood transported me to all those years ago and I was suddenly struck by how many years had gone by since I'd been there with these people we'd been so very close to all our lives. My Aunty Kath and Uncle Tony.. to Debbie and Suzie and Chris and Brian.. such tiny little kids way back then, now full grown big burly men with children of their own. To Uncle Graham - and Terry, and Maree. And then I saw Wayne and he was happy. Truly happy. He seemed relaxed and smiling and crinkle eyed and he reminded me *so* much of Dad. Happy in the boat, fishing in the rough see and everyone noted how proud Dad would have been of him not puking in the rough dingy conditions. And how he sat up all night drinking beer by the light of an open fridge door with Brian and Chris Park. From what I remember of Dad, I'm sure he would have been doing the same thing given half a chance... laughing and talking shite.. the gift we all inherited so strongly.

You look like Dad, you know. You carry those Park traits, that dilute the loopy Lawlor ones so well. You're lucky that way *s*.

I love you.
Take care.
Write soon...
and I went to the park and i went to the park and I went to the park and i went to the park and I went to the park and i went to the park and I went to the park and i went to the park and I went to the park and i went to the park and I went to the park and i went to the park and I went to the park and i went to the park and I went to the park and i went to the park *laughs*

love
shelley.

Thursday, November 14, 2002

we went to
downtown and bought groaningly good sandwiches on fresh white door stopping bread
mine had chicken and egg and avocado and lettuce and beetroot
we lost rosie
we looked for rosie for a while
found jonathan
then made the executive decision to leave her lost
and went down to the waterfront.. those concrete steps
there we found rosie
we ate our sandwiches
i have egg on my blouse
it was very sunny
I wear too many clothes compared to the weather
we talked and chuckled.
bitched a bit and talked crap
cept some of it was good crap
not much of it was new, only some of it was interesting
mostly cos i did most of the talking
I am a back seat driver
we wandered back to work stopping to buy sushi for penny along the way
lunch hours aren't long enough

Friday, November 15, 2002

.

Monday, November 18, 2002

I work with the woman who belongs to these feet. She's this a stylish, scrumptious, scented person with such a gentle nature and sensible wisdom with a wicked sense of humour and childlike fun. She buys art and wears lovely rings on her fingers. Her long dark hair makes me think she was once a Native American Indian - she has the look of a dream catcher.. It's so difficult to say her name without mmmming first.

This Dilbert is so My Life

Tuesday, November 19, 2002

How much coffee is too much coffee?

There are different places around where I work to buy good coffee. Abe's Bagels have cute bagel boys and good creamy coffee. Marshall told me the other day that we don't have seriously good bagels here but what you don't know you don't know and they seem to taste wonderful to a girl who orders the same kind evrey time. Lemon Honey on regular. Its a good breakfast type coffee to ease you into a coffee day. If you're lucky you get to order a Penny Special (large latte, half strength, decaf) and so engage in a conversation with said cute bagel boys. Their lemon honey is fabulous too but they keep running out of it. If you really need a caffine buzz though, the place to go is Serious Espresso. Their coffee is edgey and strong. Its not that they put "more" so much as "better" shots into their togo coffee. The cheeky girl told us the beans are freshly roasted daily, and all beans not used are thrown away at the end of the day.

Today I have had two take out coffees from Serious Espresso (so thats four shots) and I am all scatterbrained and misfiring. I think I need one more to get me on track.

they make me laugh:-

ZIM: "Ummm, is it supposed to be stupid?"
Tallest Purple: "It's not stupid, it's advanced."

ZIM: "I put the fires out."
Tallest Red: "You made them worse!"
ZIM: "Worse... or better?"

GIR: "Look! It's my favorite show! No, This is my favorite show! LOOK! IT'S MY FAVORITE SHOW!"

GIR: "I love this show..."

ZIM: "Ahh... the stink of clean!"

GIR: "I'm gonna roll around on the floor for a little bit, 'kay?"

ZIM: "GIR! Finally. I need your help. I've been captured."
GIR: "YAAAY!"
ZIM: "No thats bad, GIR."
GIR: "YAAAY!"
ZIM: "I need you to listen very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very carefully."
GIR: "What?"

Zim: "Prepare your bladder for imminent release!"

Dib: "You can hide Zim, but you can't... HIDE!!!"

ZIM- Do you know what this means, GIR?
GIR- Yes!
ZIM- You don't really know, do you?
GIR- (says nothing)

Zim: There something wrong and it's not your fault?
Gir: I know. I'm scared too...

Zim: Why is there bacon in the soap?!
Gir: I made it myself!

Zim: GIR! Get away from that amplifier!! You're sending out deadly waves of stupidity!

ZIM: I told you that you would forever rue the day you messed with me! Now, begin your rueing, I'll just sit here and watch.

Wednesday, November 20, 2002

[bitch]when Strongbad said it was Cool to put animated GIFs on your
webpage, he didn't mean it literally[/bitch]

:-D

Rosie

What Do You Want To Make Those Eyes At Me For

What do you wanna make those eyes at me for
If they don't mean what they say
Ooh, they make me glad, they make me sad
They make me want a lot of things that I never had
You're fooling around with me now
Aah, you lead me on and then you run away

Ooh that's alright
I'll get you alone night
And baby you'll find you're messing with dynamite
So what do you wanne make those eyes at me for
If they don't mean what they say

What do you wanna make those eyes at me for
If they don't mean what they say
Ooh, they make me glad, they make me sad
They make me want a lot of things that I never had
You're fooling around with me now
Aah, you lead me on and then you run away

Ooh that's alright
I'll get you alone night
And baby you'll find you're messing with dynamite
So what do you wanne make those eyes at me for
If they don't mean what they say

What do you wanna make those eyes at me for
If they don't mean what they say
Ooh, they make me glad, they make me sad
They make me want a lot of things that I never had
You're fooling around with me now
Aah, you lead me on and then you run away

Ooh that's alright
I'll get you alone night
And baby you'll find you're messing with dynamite
So what do you wanne make those eyes at me for
If they don't mean what they say
If they don't mean what they say
If they don't mean what they say

Yeah

"Cross your assorted limbs, Michelle!" Rosie fixes her Cookie problem with great noise and excitement.

FIVE SECRETS TO A GREAT RELATIONSHIP!

1. It is important to find a man who works around the house, occasionally
cooks and cleans and who has a job.

2. It is important to find a man who makes you laugh.

3. It is important to find a man who is dependable and doesn't lie.

4. It is important to find a man who's good in bed and who loves to have
sex with you.

5. It is important that these four men never meet.

Thursday, November 21, 2002

MmmDreaming..A business that costs millions to run and makes no money.

An office, hardwood floors and two firebricked walls, a glass wall with a view to the water, a feature wall with some groovy colour no one ever considered using before but man it WORKS and a few difused sunlights above. Beautiful custom constructed shelving groaning under well organinsed tools and supplies. Jars of beautifully soft sable brushes, smudging sticks, square bristled brushes. Boxes of perfectly marked boxes of oil paints, water colours, acrylics, posterpaints. Scrumptiously glazed pots of pencils and markers. Crafted boxes of scalples and cutting tools, steel rules and self healing pads on ergonomically wonderful work tables with shallow paper drawers with brass handles. Nothing is wasted. Everything is utilised. Ordered. We have a kick arse printer and an incredible array of paper. We do classes where classes are - on book making, binding, paper making, pressing, printing, sculpting, folding, sticking - using these skills to springboard our own ideas and projects. Rosie amongst a pile of paper and scissors and glue and glitter, making cards and land mail art objects posting all over the world having groaning sacks of objects sent to her. We are endlessly busy and treat our projects with time lines and deadlines and work so hard we're exhausted by the end of our days and sleep the sleep of the truly satisfied/tossing and turning with the challenges we set for ourselves. Our Computers are so powerful and beautiful.. Macintosh Quicksilvers and 23" flat cinema displays. Chris sits in the corner with his head phones on slouching over some lines of code to make something go that never went before. Sometimes he cooks food too in the compact groovy kitchen - he's quite good like that. Sometimes Kyle cooks too, but often he's busy making the most delicious 3D animated work you'll ever see. Bev smells lovely and puts so much style into the place you can't help but mmm happily. There is a bar in our office, and you all know that we love you to visit on a Friday. The couches are deep and soft and in the winter we light the fire. The snacks we have are catered by some groovy little eatery up in High Street or somewhere snazzy. Rachelle comes back from the UK to our dream with all her knowledge of print and people. Her desk is orderly and completely Mac'd out. There is softly piped cool music but you can listen to your own tunes on your iPod if you like. Laughing happens a lot. Thinking happens a lot. Ideas bounce off the walls sometimes ricocheting off to tangents we never saw coming. There are comic books too - lots of comic books and webspace. Lots of webspace. And fast fast net access.

ARIES (March 21-April 19): Chaos is often good to avoid. But not now, Aries. You're in a phase when diving into uncertainty would be fertile and invigorating. May I suggest, then, that you pluck some inspiration from Discordianism? It's one of the rare religions that takes account of Ralph Abraham's assertion that heart physiologists find more chaos in the healthy heart than in the sick heart. Here's a sampling of Discordian tenets.
1. Everyone is a saint, especially you.
2. Meditation consists primarily of cruising around looking for good luck.
3. Eating hot dog buns is prohibited, except on Friday, when it's compulsory.
4. When you're stuck in a rut, you *must* speak in tongues, handle snakes, and experience phantasmagoria.
5. Your guardian angel loves you better when your room is a mess.
6. Bowling alleys are sacred; you must protect them from desecration.
7. The goddess will solve all your problems if you solve all hers.

Friday, November 22, 2002

wordsarespillingout likeendlessrainintoapapercup theyslitherwhiletheyslip andpasstheirwayacrosstheuniverse. poolsofsorrow wavesofjoy aredriftingthroughmyopenmind possessingandcarressingme Jai guru deva om Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world imagesofbrokenlight whichdancebeforeme likeamillioneyes thatcallmeonandon acrosstheuniverse thoughtsmeander likearestlesswind insidealetterbox theytumbleblindly astheymaketheirway acrosstheuniverse Jai guru deva om Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world soundsoflaughter shadesofearth areringingthroughmyopenedears incitingand inviting me limitless undyinglove whichshinesaroundmelikeamillionsuns itcallsmeonandon acrosstheuniverse Jai guru deva om Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world Nothing's gonna change my world

Do you know what today is? It's the day my dad was born. Or at least, it's the day I believe my dad was born - I could be wrong and if You know different, I'd appreciate the details, and, any other errors I'm about to make in the next few lines. It's just, I remember in my Beatrix Potter Birthday Book Aunty Pat wrote "your darling daddy" and I am pretty sure it was November 22 but I could be wrong. *furrowed brow thinking* see now I think about it I could be so wrong. The dates are muddled in my head. Okay, lets continue to believe it's today until we know different, okay? i mean, twentyseven some years, another few moments with wonky information of this low security grade shouldn't hurt anyone. [famous last words]

This is faulty too, but I think, he would have been 63 this birthday. Which, is interesting as I was born 1963 *hmm*. I remember few things about my father but I do remember his skin, and his smile, and the way his eyes crinkled and twinkled when he did. I remember being in pyjamas sitting on his knee and comparing the size of my hand to his. My whole hand, fingers spread, sat easily across his palm. He didn't have particularly big hands, mine were just so young. Sometimes, he would sit on my bed in the dark and sing me to sleep. Slow 50s and 60s ballads. I remember his smell - he smelled like work. He smelled like welding, and the sand they used for sandblasting. He smelled of swarfega and he smelled of soap. His hair was dark and curly and always short.

Once, when he came home from fishing, the net spilled all the fish over the lawn. A sea of silver fish on the green grass of the grass out the back of the carport. There was a small hammer head shark there too. sometimes, when he caught crayfish, he'd put them in the laundry tub. I could hear them flapping against the stainless sides and the water until they were ready to be dinner. Mum would hate to do it I think - you dropped the cray into boiling water, they died instantly I guess, and turned bright red from the deep burgandy they were.

I remember lying on my stomach on the floor of the lounge, my dad lying next to me, colouring in. He was really good at it, never went over the lines. He showed me how to draw a dark line around the edge, and then carefully colour in the middle. He also showed me how using just one colour was really effective. He showed me too, that you could do your own drawings, filling pages with patterns and shades. He would make plastercine animals too - perfect tigers and horses and cats and dogs. The warmth of his hands softening the plastercine, the cool night hardening them on the mantle.

I don't remember a lot from when he was sick. I tried to kiss him goodbye every morning before going to school. I'd take my budgie into him so he could watch the bird's antics. Dad was in bed most mornings when I left, but often up when I got home. It was nice, for a while, him being home when I got home. Then, after a while, he was in bed all the time. And I sort of stopped going in to kiss him goodbye in the mornings. I don't remember why, but I am guesssing with what I know now, he was too sick or had changed in appearance enough that this 12 year old couldn't cope.

One thing I absolutely *hated* was when the priest'd come over and we'd have to say prayers in the bedroom with Dad in the bed. I think my anger for religion and my hatred of the Catholic hypocracy formulated into a jaw clenching determination on my knees in that bedroom. I don't know if dad *found* religion before he died, I know a lot of people find comfort in it at times like that. But Dad never went to church with us so maybe, he needed it in those last days.

The night he died, I seem to remember we had lots of people around. I had this urgency to not be there. I pestered pestered until someone agreed to take me away. Aunty Maree and her then boyfriend drove me and Joanne to Grandad's house. I knew, maybe everyone else knew too, it was close. They phoned not long after we'd arrived at Grandad's and Maree told us Dad had died. Joanne looked to me, as she always did through all of this, for a direction to react I guess. Poor kid, she got stuck with an older sister who bottled everything up. We sat there quietly for a little while. Then continued reading the Beatrix Potter book we had been reading when the telephone had rung.

After the church service for his funeral, we went to the cemetary and lowered his casket into the ground. I was standing in front of Aunty Pat and I felt her press me to move forward to throw dirt on the casket. Nothing and no one was moving me from where I was standing. She didn't press anymore, and everyone else went up and did what you do at the side of a grave. So many people I know must have been there but all I remember is the grass, the hole in the ground, knowing Pat was behind me and the way my legs refused to work.

It took me until I was 15 before I could actually cry properly. Scared the daylights out of a lot of my friends when the floodgates finally opened when I was at Boarding School. Over the years, I missed him, as I still do. Mostly I miss him fondly and hardly cry anymore. Alan's [my brother in law] dying a few years ago sort of closed the circle.

This isn't sposed to be sad [your eyebrows better be in a happy place, Rosie] they're just memories, my precious few.

Saturday, November 23, 2002

(not *our* James, but the Rocket Scientist James)

James says to [mish]: Why can't there be more girls like you around here?....*L*
[mish] says to James: like me like how? stupid?
James says to [mish]: No no...not stupid....more like....absent minded....distracted....easily led....gullible....

Monday, November 25, 2002

Wonderful weekend full of curry highs and computer lows.

Rosie and Tim and I had a lovely pot-luck-curry dinner on Saturday night at their lovely home. It was delicious and the curry was pretty good too :)

Give it Away

What I've got you've got to give it to your mamma
What I've got you've got to give it to your pappa
What I've got you've got to give it to your daughter
You do a little dance and then you drink a little water

What I've got you've got to get it put it in you
What I've got you've got to get it put it in you
What I've got you've got to get it put it in you
Reeling with the feeling don't stop continue

Realize I don't want to be a miser
Confide w/sly you'll be the wiser
Young blood is the lovin' upriser
How come everybody wanna keep it like the kaiser

Give it away give it away give it away give it away
now Give it away give it away give it away give it away
now Give it away give it away give it away give it away
now
I can't tell if I'm a kingpin or a pauper

Four seasons in one day yesterday: woke up Sunday morning to the sound of rain pounding on my roof. While I was at the movies (Ghostworld) during the day the temperature dropped so the rain became icey. It cleared it's cloudy ways and the evening turned balmy and clear and a perfect night for an impromtu Chili Pepper moment.

Greedy little people in a sea of distress
Keep your more to receive your less
Unimpressed by material excess
Love is free love me say hell yes

I'm a low brow but I rock a little know how
No time for the piggies or the hoosegow
Get smart get down with the pow wow
Never been a better time than right now

I can't actually remember the last time I went to Western Springs to see a concert. All the concerts after about 1992 have managed to blur into one. U2/Rolling Stones/David Bowie but it sure did feel like a very long time since I was at the 'Springs for music. An Aussie band called Quirk started proceedings. They played a 4-or-so song set - I don't really remember mostly because they weren't much to write home about. Not bad but not outstanding. PapaRoach was next out and they rocked. A clutch of screaming mother-fuckers got the mosh pit thumping. As the purple of evening let go to the dark of night (aw mish just write the blog, would ya) the lights flooded colouring the crowd in turquoise and then there they were, the Red Hot Chili Peppers. They played a short 2 hour, melodic, mellow concert that was just - beautiful. The video screen'd colours of scrumptious blues and vivid reds, and the almost [at times] harpsicordian bass/guitar teamings with that delicious boy Anthony Kiedis spronging around the stage rolling his sounds and singing his heart out - it was a wonderful.

Bob Marley poet and a prophet
Bob Marley taught me how to off it
Bob Marley walkin' like he talk it
Goodness me can't you see I'm gonna cough it

Lucky me swimmin' in my ability
Dancin' down on life with agility
Come and drink it up from my fertility
Blessed with a bucket of lucky mobility

Nice end to a not-so-nice weekend of computer heartaches. About 3 weeks ago, my 19" monitor carried out its suicide attempt and died in my arms. It had been telegraphing it's intention for a month or so beforehand so not an entire surprise but still, disturbing. I swapped my beloved 21" Trinitron over to the PC from the Mac to compensate until I could replace the 19". Late on Saturday night, the 21" stopped. No warning no nothing, just dead on my desk. I sat there in utter disbelief. It's just dead. No power light no electrical static no nothing just. It no longer works.

My mom I love her 'cause she love me
Long gone are the times when she scrub me
Feelin' good my brother gonna hug me
Drink my juice young love chug-a-lug me

There's a river born to be a giver
Keep you warm won't let you shiver
His heart is never gonna wither
Come on everybody time to deliver

It's really really difficult to work on computers without screens.

Wednesday, November 27, 2002

Dear Santa,

Your webdesigning elves might like to do two things to santa/index.html to look more like they are Professional Webdesigning Elves.
1) If you set your margins to zero, the image will bunt nicely against the top and sides of your page.
2) Take note of Firework's habit of taking your gif title and making it your page title in Dreamweaver. If you click Modify/Page Properties in Dreamweaver, you can change this to a more suitable title such as "New Zealand Post - Write a Letter to Santa"

Take care of the details, and those Elves of yours will be up and saving you lots of money in Webdesign and implementation costs in no time flat!!

Just a point to note.. maybe children should be encouraged to have parental permission before spilling their contact information online.

Wishing you a very coding christmas.

from Michelle.

PS: I want a pony for Christmas.

It was a simple plan - take leftovers of cantonese noodles and chicke chowmein, but them back into their polystyrene container and take to work for lunch. Sweet, easy, practical - a bit like me. Rushing to work this morning [notice there's a reason for what happened, it has nothing to do with me being stupid] I grabbled the foil bagged container of leftovers and came to work. Morning busy lunchtime arrive, Michelle goes to fridge to retrieve and reheat chinese takeaways. I opened the foil wrapped back to find a half eaten, old looking, supermarket chicken. Damn, I thought, I've grabbed someone elses baggie. Diving back into the fridge to find there wasn't another bag and in fact I had the right bag - its just it was the wrong bag I'd grabbed from *my* fridge this morning. I couldn't even eat the chicken cos I don't even remember when I bought it - a month ago at least.

Sometimes I wonder how I manage to get safely through everyday.

Guppy says to sphere: Sex (secks) n. -- What I'm not having at the moment.

Thursday, November 28, 2002

I just wanna be this good - and It may never happen.

Mannn.. I can't concentrate.. what is *wrong* with me *arg*

Lunchtime and Bev and Rosie and I high-tailed it up to the Atrium on Elliot for curry and Dimocks. I just love the books in there, so much more than anywhere else. Their computer section makes my mouth water. I want to buy the whole shop and download it into my brain.