Been eating knives

SO, its been a little while since I wrote the famous words;
"Im sick, again"

You must admit, I have done pretty well for myself. Its been like, 2 months? Thats a pretty solid effort, considering my track record.
So far, its being exhausted, runny nose and sore throat. You see, over the past few days I've woken up with a sore throat - no big deal, maybe I was breathing through my mouth all night. Dry throat. It happens, right?
So I thought, whatever.
Now though, its plainly obvious that I've got a cold. A lame one. I've definitely had worse, but that doesn't mean this one doesn't suck anyway. My voice is starting to get warped - like, Im slowly becoming a man.
It's like I've sat at home and eaten 20 knives, then waited 15 minutes and thrown them up. Then repeated for 5 hours.

I blame work. I've been run off my feet (not literally, I'm still on my feet). When I got in today, I was like "I've got a cold!" and I got told "Your not allowed to have a cold. We're too busy".
Oh well, I guess thats that then, isn't it? No cold for me. Guess I'm cured.

Whats even more lame, is that even if I get worse it wont change a damn thing because work wont function if I take time off - I know that sounds really exaggerated, but I'm not even kidding.
My manager resigned, so the 2IC is filling in her place till head office gets off they're lazy asses and hire somebody. And you know what, Im filling in the 2IC position.
Not officially, of course. That would mean I have to get payed more. They've just shoved me into this slot cause nobody else at work is capable. LITERALLY nobody else can do it.
I feel like I'm doing my the jobs of two people at once - which is fine.
I can't use my lieu days, I can't take annual leave, I can't be sick.
HOW DO I ESCAPE?

painting

I haven't decided if I will keep these up... They're.. A bit weird. But hey. I guess I'll make up my mind, if I like 'em they'll be here in an hour, if I don't, they wont.

Theres a lot wrong with them - the legs are too long (by like ten miles) and they're wonky too. Plus, she's on a strange angle. Also, with the face, I did finish it, but .. I like the half finished version better.

Fabric paint fun

I said I would, so I did. 

Yamete kudasai!!

Ive recently bought some fabric pant.
Its been pretty cool, I've done Tib a top and myself too - I'm wearing it right now. I have a picture at home (I'm at Tibs right now, on Firefox because for some unknown reason internet explorer crashes everytime I click 'new post), and my camera is at home, regrettably.
Its an orange, cut in half, with a crown above it on the back of a long sleeved (L/S) charcoal top. I think it suits me 'cause I'm a queen ...
Kidding. Its 'cause I'm orange, and were pretty cool despite the fact that people think were lame from our weird hair.

Anyway, during the painting part of my ... painting. I was sitting with my top, with a magazine inside it (to prevent the paint from soaking through onto the front). I didn't, and rarely ever do, think to put down news paper on my white duvet cover to protect it from the numerous spills and splatters that accompany a painter in the 'zone'. Anyway, my white duvet cover is now splotched with red. And wouldn't you know it, it wont wash out. I guess thats what I get for painting with fabric paint, over fabric.
I watched the paint splatter off my brush like it was in slow motion, sailing towards the brilliant white. I thought PLEASE STOP! desperately towards it, but it didn't listen to me. It was determined to RUIN EVERYTHING.

But it doesn't really matter because I've already spilt a lot of paint on it before. In-fact, nearly every time I paint, my duvet gains a new souvenir. Only once this year have I thought to put down some kind of protection.... It was one sheet of new paper. I thought that was a solid effort, considering that all the way out in the wilderness and desolate area of Paremoremo we don't get a news paper. It took friggen ages to find it.

I will make a point to post a picture of my top when I get home am are re-united with my camera.

Nightmares - nuclear

I have written about my nightmares before - and as of late, I have been considering making part of this blog be devoted to just that. The crazy adventures of my sub-conscious.

A recent one, starred my best friend. Some know her as 'Ba'
She and I were shopping and we saw a whole van of TV presenters pull up in the car park outside.
Whats this? A chance at fame? A chance to show off our stunning beauty?
We we're game. We hung around, watching the goings-on...
The announcer was saying "and the nuclear explosion grounds for this TV show will be set in none other than our very own STILL WATER! Yes, thats right folks! That tiny piddly little suburban area that nobody ever seems to go to will be NUKED!"
As the crowd cheered, Ba and I stared at each other in horror - Tib lives in still water. Did the announcers bother to tell the inhabitants of piddlyville that they and they're beloved homes were to be burnt to dust?
We had to warn them!

So we ran to the nearest speedy looking car (a red convertible, naturally), leaped over the doors (the roof was open, naturally), turned it on (the keys were inside, naturally) and sped off towards our destination (the tank was full, naturally.
At some point, the road we were driving on had turned into a river, and we were on East Coast Road. We were drag racing a car full of drunken teenage idiots - for lols.
Suddenly, our friendly river dwelling killer whale bursts through the surface and plays smash-the-convertible-boat-into-the-riverbank, his favourite game, naturally. We played along for a little while, but he wasn't giving up, he wanted a full on game with all the rules. We didn't have time for this, radiation was about to be set loose!

I sacrificed myself, "Ba, just go. GO! Run and tell them, warn them of the impending danger! I'll deal with Mr Monochrome here, and you warn them!"
She threw herself out of the car, ran across the river and onto the riverbank (somehow), and all the drunken teens went with her. She ran towards the houses that seemed impossibly far away, she was never going to make it. WHAM. Killer whales weigh a similar amount and as a huge truck. My stolen borrowed sports car wasn't going to survive this ordeal. In case you haven't heard, they may be pretty cars but aren't the best when it comes to durability. Perhaps I should have taken a tank from the car park - I'm sure they were there, it was my dream, after all.

I watched her running towards the danger zone, as that horrible siren sounded.
You know what, Tibs alarm clock is that siren.
I open my eyes, and its time to get up. FXCK OFF.

Sister Admires me.

Okay, so, I actually have a tonne of useless junk to spill on here - but please excuse any typing errors, I'm not used to typing on Tibs stupid boring LAME dumb PC keyboard.

Okay, so as a start I guess I should say, my sister has started a blog (and has been relying one me, he gorgeous and perfect, loving sister) so show her how blogdom works. I mean, she hasn't written a post on it yet so far as I know. But whatever. Shes getting there.
I think I should give myself all the credit for her wanting a blog in the first place, she obviously admired my intense and interesting writing style and thought that maybe since were related that my spectacular talent might have rubbed off on her over the past 19 years that we've grown up together.

I guess we will have to watch and find out.
Take a squiz.

StupidGirlyStuff

P.S. To all of my pervy friends out there, don't you ditch my blog just 'cause you think my sisters a babe. And just to let you know, my mum has no intention of starting a blog. So just don't even consider it.

On a roll..

I figure I'm actually doing pretty well for myself - posting two days in a row. Its like I'm a blogging virgin all over again.
Anyway, nothing particularly exciting happened today - I made dinner. Perhaps this is why I'm typing again - I stopped making dinner for like a week and a half, and I also didn't go super market shopping, I didn't clean (much). I did almost nothing useful at all.
Now that I'm getting off my ass  back from my incredibly brief housewife holiday, I guess I should try and write more often.... no promises though. Everytime I promise to write more often I do the complete opposite and the creative side of my brain goes into hiding. Living off bugs and moss until it feels that its no longer under pressure.

Anyway, dinner tonight was very... quick. And boring. It was just a plain stir fry;
They were packet veges - So no cutting them up.
The meat was just bought - no defrosting.
The sauce came in the vege packet - no choosing which flavours.
No herbs, no spices, no salt, no pepper, no lemon juice (I love lemon juice), no rice, no noodles, no nothing. Just a 'chuck it in the pan' stirfry. I didn't even use the wok.
Its a pretty piss-poor dinner on my part.

Maybe I should do a roast this week to make up for it... Tomorrow I'm not making dinner because I'm OUT. Im going to a dinner party thingy for work to say good-bye to my manager who has just recently resigned. Cool. I'm not supposed to bring anything but a non alcoholic drink (me and the new girl can't drink cause were little kiddies (Well, that, and I'm driving)).
I believe there will even be desert. Maybe, just maybe, I will come home tomorrow and write a post about it.

The only thing is that I finish work at 5 tomorrow, just Im going with the ladies who finish at 5.30... What am I supposed to do? Sit in the car and twiddle my thumbs? NAH F THAT.

I bought ginger beer today. Believe it.

Way to get rich fast

If I had a dollar for every post I'd intended to write out - I'd be a bloody million trillion billionaire X ten thousand million hundred billion times!
I could make a living that would put the world into bankruptcy because my pay check each week would be way larger than the entire worlds economy put together multiplied by 50.

But you know what? This is one less dollar that I'll metaphorically earn.
I guess nows about the time I throw in my heart felt apology for being a slacker and not writing anything worth half a glance in the past few months. I know all you avid readers have been pulling your hair out in anticipation for a new post - one that will make your life worth living again, because we all know I am the reason for your existence.

I guess that would lead me to question my existence though - If I am the reason for all other living beings (yup, that means every single living person - including people in comas, babies who cant read, and blind people - read my blog) then whats the purpose of me living?
I guess so I can write to you guys.
I know. Im always making such huge sacrifices for you, you should really pay a little more respect and start sending me money. Maybe I should start an OJ bank account and make little reminders to you all that its always helpful to GIVE ME ALL YOUR MONEY.

Then again, I don't need money right now. Money shmoney. I've had enough of it!
What I need is something to stimulate my mind. Not a big fan of sudoku, so that wont help. Still fxcking suck on whatever I want to do with my fabulous life in the near distant or far distant future - so as much as I'd like to study, just fml. Put a really small gun inside my nose, and shoot a really small grenade into my brain and blow it into really small pieces.

Which makes me think - speaking of giving me all me all your money, I wish that my blown up brain was clever enough to write a blog that was thrilling enough to actually get me paid. That would be wickedly ideal. But I guess I'd have to extend my vocabulary and (somehow, if its possible) extend my imagination too.

Dinner

As of late, I have been making dinner every night I am home. Thats fine for me - I love a challenge :) Im getting pretty good, if I say so myself. Inventive. New ideas every night (but haven't done many roasts. They're still pretty damn scary!)

Anyway, I just wanted to come home from my long day at work and rest. Relax. NOT COOK.
So you know what? Nobody did. Dinner just didn't happen. The hours crawled on by, then my parents went to bed. No dinner. In the end I settled for two juicies and a handful of shapes (bacon and cheese MM).
Good enough for me.

Your a slacker mum! Get back to the kitchen!