Titles are Overrated

Hello, dear creatures! I hope you are well and living your best life wherever and however that may be. 

Apparently, it's been a whole year or so since I posted here! Where does the time go?! Honestly, I've just been lazy lazy lazy busy busy busy and haven't bothered with this blogging thingymajig. Yep. You guessed it. There's been nonstop action, excitement and jaw dropping escapades of adventure and intrigue demanding my attention. The year has whittled by in a whirlwind of exhilarating activities and life changing achievements the likes of which have never been seen before and likely will never be seen again. Or something.

It is totally not exaggerating to say that our lives here in ye olde Boganville are akin to the most gripping television drama and should be adapted into a Netflix series IMMEDIATELY. 

Case in point: there's this show streaming on ABC Iview called Marriage starring Nicola Walker and Sean Bean. Spoiler alert: there is an intense seven-minute scene of Ms. Walker's character making a sandwich. Another, stacking the dishwasher. 

They should have just focused the cameras on Mickey Blue Eyes and I instead. I know for a fact it would be equally as riveting and avant-garde. I make sandwiches. I stack the dishwasher. Because - wait for it: I FINALLY GOT A DISHWASHER!

SEE? I told you extraordinary things were happening! 

Other fantazamagorical (totally a word) happenings:

I did something unheard of. I didn't finish reading a book. GASP. But life's too short for boring books, am I right? 

I let a little bit more of my weird out at work via a meme. I should have this on a t shirt, said I: 

I really should. 

I forgot how to spell a word! I would tell you which word, but I'd have to spell it. I guess I'm not using that word anymore. Good. Who needs you, dumbass word! In the bin, word I can't spell. You're completely UNECCESSARY. Or is it unnessacary? Two n's or one? Whatever. Binned. 

Mickey Blue Eyes and I had the opportunity for a brief interlude in Mollymook last month. My friend J (and her other friends) were celebrating 50th birthdays, and we were invited to tag along! They had booked in to go to Bannisters by the sea, which is a fancy pants restaurant connected to celebrity chef Rick Stein. However, Mick, myself and our other friends K and M decided to accept the fact that we are mere peasants with more plebian tastes. 

A courtesy bus to the local bowlo was booked. And look I'm sure Bannisters is lovely and all, but you don't get that kind of service and elegance, do you?

K fancied a cocktail, but upon arrival we deduced that it was not the sort of establishment that would serve cocktails. They did have a meat raffle in full swing however, so NER. We feasted on our basic schnitzels, steak sandwich and spaghetti Bolognese with glee and zero regret. Ambiance was provided by the raucous shouting in relation to the meat raffle. Pure class. 

Following this, we conversed with the locals while waiting for the return courtesy bus back to the caravan park. Alas, we discovered there is no such thing as shop til you drop in this neck of the woods. K and I had contemplated hitting the shops on Saturday while the others headed off to some sort of beer festival. Because beer is gross. Yuck. 

Saturday arrived. The caravan park had a wood fire pizza oven. Due to J's meticulous planning, we were fortunate enough to indulge in wood fired pizza for lunch. Afterwards most of the group headed off to the beer festival. K and I settled in for a cuppa instead. K, being the bloody legend she is, had brought a box of Cadbury Favourites. If I have to choose between beer or chocolate, no contest. Basic bitch 4EVA! Don't even care. 

As well as being a right basic bitch I'm also excellent company, and it wasn't long before I was snoring on the couch in K's cabin. Nice. Suddenly a storm shattered the peace, and I woke up disoriented. We watched a veritable river rushing past the cabin from the sliding door. The storm passed as quickly as it arrived, and we set off for a meal at The Milton Hotel. Mickey Blue Eyes and I tried unsuccessfully to hide our gauche ways at the sight of the somewhat eye watering prices (to us). 

Luckily, sharing meals was encouraged so we ordered the Wagyu steak. 

Waiter: Would you like any veggies?

Us: Yes, please.

Waiter: What are you after?

Mickey Blue Eyes: Um, a bit of everything. 

Cue me realising each vegetable is a separate dish at almost 20 bucks a pop. Yikes. We hastily backtracked and settled on a cabbage dish. 

Then the order was somehow mucked up and they gave us a free cauliflower dish as well. It all turned out to be extremely delicious, and J's friend also provided a delectable cakie to round out the meal. 

On Sunday we got up in the middle of the night to drive home because Mr 14 had a soccer thing on. We were weary but happy after a fun weekend.

Since it's been so long between posts you may or may not know we have an addition to the family! Another doggo!

Meet Ella: 

She was a skinny girl when she arrived but not now! 
See below 

Chandler is not entirely thrilled with the addition, poor dude

The funniest, cutest, goofiest, (and greediest!) little bundle of mischief. She popped up in my Facebook feed one day as available for adoption. This was in the midst of all the torrential rain. I was at work, so I frantically called Mickey Blue Eyes and said go get her. He did! I decided to keep her. And Mickey Blue Eyes too. Tee hee. 

What else is happening? 

My casual work at the library came to a grinding halt as a result of all my sick leave.  However, I am still working permanent part time for a library supplier and enjoying it. I much prefer working part time and behind the scenes. I'm definitely a behind the scenes kinda girl. Behind the scenes of behind the scenes even, if that makes sense. Yeah nah, nothing about me or my blog writing makes sense... Moving on. 

What can I say about the boys? Not much, because they hate when I do that! I will say that I now have a 21-year-old, an 18-year-old and a 14-year-old. Wait...WHAT??? Again, where does the time go??? Yeah yeah, it keeps moving forward and waits for no one cause that's how time works. I get it. God damn logic. Pffft. 

Confirming the fact that time waits for no one: we celebrated our 27th wedding anniversary a week or so ago! Just- WOW. That's a bloody long time! Not as long as my parents though. They celebrated 56 years! A few days later, my dad turned 84! Forget the logic thing, someone please figure out how to stop time!  

In terms of my PPPD diagnonsense, I am thankfully much better apart from occasional blips, but I try not to let it get to me which is half of the battle. 

Sadly, an anticipated road trip to Wagga Wagga with my mum had to be indefinitely postponed due to all the floods and ridiculous weather about the place. I'm sure we will get there eventually! In the meantime, we went to the movies to see Mrs Harris Goes To Paris which was a lovely feel-good movie with pretty dresses. So that's a win.

Mickey Blue Eyes and I are planning a Christmas getaway which promises to be the kind of lavish, upscale affair you have come to expect from us. Shut up. 

Anyway, that's about it for now. I'm wishing everyone a happy Christmas and a merry new year. And if that's not possible (because why all the pressure to be happy and jolly when the silly season can be complicated and fraught for many), then remember it will pass. 

As Mickey Blue Eyes would say, take it easy and I'll catch up with you later!

Kind wishes and cakie things,

Ness

PS. All the formatting and everything here is completely weird, and I have NO IDEA how to fix it. Oops. Sorry! 

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What is Friendship?

Hello again. Here I am on a Sunday night, at home with all my friends writing on the subject of friendship.  I'm really here with Mr 14 while the rest of the brood are at a soccer game. Details. This may be a short and rambling post due to the fact that I'm trying to type this with a dodgy laptop where the backspace key doesn't work. Very annoying. Especially when you're a crappy typer like me.  But anyway, I'll try.

So, yes. Friendship. Let's talk about it.

Recently, my shrink suggested that I should make some friends. I explained that I DO have friends but the same ones for twenty plus years. I never make new friends. I certainly never belong to any mum cliques. You know, the ones gossiping at the school gates. Totally my fault. I get in and out quickly and don't hang around to gossip. The couple of times I thought maybe I was becoming friendly with another mum, I obviously misread the situation or didn't respond or reciprocate appropriately. I don't know. I'm aspie and socially awkward. I guess I come across as weird to others.

But aren't true friends supposed to accept your brand of weirdness? Luckily, I do have friends who do this, so I won't spend too much time worrying about the others. Not everyone will like you and that's fine. I'm an introvert. I'd rather have a small amount of real friends than a bunch of phonies or what I call "fair weather friends". I've definitely been there.

As a child and teen I struggled to make friends. I suffered from excruciating shyness, I was so quiet I was practically mute (not much has changed there), and as it turns out, I was autistic, but didn't know at the time. No wonder I struggled!

Typically, I would have one friend, and due to all of the above, I tended to be clingy and needy. Unfortunately I was (and am) somewhat naive and sweet. This clinginess and naivety often attracted toxic so called friends. It became particularly problematic as I progressed into young adulthood.

There was one person in particular who had been my best friend since childhood. Her behaviour towards me become appalling. Eventually I had to say something and I hate confrontations, so it was a huge challenge for me. Long story short, I removed her from my life. In a weird way I'm grateful to her. It was her actions and the dissolution of our friendship that led to me joining rotaract. This is where I met my real friends and Mickey Blue Eyes.

So thanks, former "best friend". I forgive you and am grateful. I hope things worked out for you as well and you've found the sort of friends you want. I know it wasn't me.

To be fair, maybe I am not the ideal friend for a lot of folks. Especially in the sense of being hospitable and inviting people over for dinner or barbecues. Hosting parties, that sort of thing. I'm not great at being in charge, at organising things. I prefer to blend in, so to speak, at social gatherings.

I've gradually come to realise that due to my limitations/quirks/autistic traits or whatever you want to call it, I am not going to be able to give some people what they expect or require in a friendship. I guess it comes down to this thing called reciprocity that us aspies seem to struggle with. It's weird because inside I feel like I'm a warm, sincere person and genuinely interested in others. But I guess I don't convey that in actions and demeanour.

Meanwhile, due to the magic of Facebook I've been able to reconnect with a bunch of people I went to high school with. I spent most of high school in the corner, nose in a book, being ignored. But as it turns out, I don't think I was universally loathed the way I thought at the time. When you're a teenager the word revolves around YOU! In retrospect, I think people just left me to it because they figured I was happy enough alone. Mostly I was, but even the most introverted of introverts craves friendship. '

Of course there's always online friends. This is where I can shine. And you're all invited here! .That's another question. Do you need to meet in person to be considered real friends? I've connected with people online but have never transferred those connections to real life. It's definitely easier for me to interact online, but then there's a whole new world of "FOMO"and odd things to navigate. Sigh.

I guess there will always be certain things about friendship that are confusing for me. But my short answer to this conundrum? 

In summary, friendship is accepting quirks and not being a fair weather friend. And at this point I would have to add it's also being able to go for long periods between catching up but still feeling like it was yesterday when you do. I haven't caught up with any friends since...never mind...

What about you?

What is friendship to you?

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I Like To Watch

Since I've been on this little 'ol 'journey,' I've been spending an inordinate amount of time watching a bit of mindless television. This is just an attempt to take my mind of everything else. 

I've also balanced it with other things: reading, writing, listening to music, fill-ins, colouring-in (yes, I can't believe I've embraced the adult colouring-in phenomenon either). So far I haven't learnt how to crochet, but you never know. (Shut up, Posski and Randa). 

But anyway, back to the television-watching. I began watching the old re-runs of Friends on Gem, as well as Gilmore Girls. And I'm a little baffled. Although for some reason I keep watching. Go figure. 

Yes, I know I'm extremely late to the party with these shows. Like, at least 20 years. Details, people. Details. 

What I was going to say is that these shows open up so many questions about the implausibility of it all. 

Let's start with Friends. They're always hanging around the Central Perk cafe, drinking coffee and trading witty banter. And every single time they're at the shop, they are conveniently able to sit on the big couch at the centre of the shop. Surely, if this was a busy coffee place in New York, that seat would be taken sometimes? 

Image credit:http://www.unilotto.co.uk/ This seat is permanently reserved for Rachel. Ross, et al. Seems realistic, right?

Plus, they're six friends all living together and they still end up staying besties. I mean, seriously, I love all of my friends, but if six of us lived together for an extended period of time I'm sure there would be an attempted murder. And I'd probably be the victim. This could be because I'm the total opposite of Monica. I might be*a slob.

Another thing that strikes me is that Courtney Cox is equally as skinny as Karen Carpenter was in the mid 70s when she was anorexic. Yes, I know I shouldn't be judging women on their size or appearance; fat, thin, or otherwise. Generally I don't, but it's just one of those things that strikes me at times because I'm such a big Karen fan. A lot of actresses are really that thin and I can't work it out. Shrugs. 

Then there is the little issue that all of the Friends characters sleep with each other, which would seem to complicate things further. Rachel apparently sleeps with both Ross and Joey. I can't imagine that working out well in real life. Plus, what is the deal with the whole 'Ross and Rachel' thing?? Do they ever actually end up together? 

I know. I know. I'm just over-thinking a sit-com intended for light entertainment and laughs. But you know me. Always pondering the deep issues.

Which brings me to the Gilmore Girls. Do people really monologue at each other the way Lorelei and Rory do? I mean, I'm Aspie and even I don't monologue away in such in a fashion. And again, they always have the perfect witty banter. Plus Lauren Graham looks immaculate and gorgeous and she's supposed to be a single mother and now I'm just babbling and ranting and I suppose I'm jealous. HMPH. 

Image credit: http://www.pastemagazine.com/ SO COOL. HMPH!

And they're always so mixed up and confused about relationships in these shows, but I suppose that's what keeps the conflict going. Thank God I never got into Ally McBeal. My head would be hurting right now. Too late, it already is. Doesn’t take much!

Another American sit-com that I've caught a few re-runs of is Frasier.  Could they have cast two more unappealing men? Ahem. Plus the whole 'Niles and Daphne unrequited love thing' is even more annoying than Ross and Rachel. Okay, it's probably just me. I should avoid American sit-coms. 

Speaking of American sit-coms starring unappealing men, I'm also partial to a bit of Seinfeld. But let's face it Jerry, George and Kramer are hardly heartthrobs. Good thing it was funny. 

I'll also admit that I was an Offspring fan. Even so, I'm not sure about the decision to bring it back. There's only so many hot boyfriends and styled outfits Nina can have. 

Probably my most guilty TV pleasure is a bit the old Dr. Phil. How's that working for you? It’s working okay, thanks Dr Phil.

Thanks to you I’ve learnt at least three important things:

1. You can’t change what you don’t acknowledge.
2. You wouldn’t worry about what others thought of you if you knew how seldom they did. 
3. And that there are so many people out there who are so much more FUCKED UP than me.

So it hasn’t been a total waste of time watching your sometimes sensationalistic and often voyeuristic programme. Thanks dude.   

Over the years I've also been obsessed with Bewitched (oh my stars!), I Dream Of Jeannie and The Golden Girls. To the point where I'll occasionally watch the re-runs when they pop up. 

I’m also a Sex & The City fan. I hated the movies, but I still watch re-runs of the show. I'm struggling to think of any current shows that I watch. I never got into Game Of Thrones or any of the shows that people rave about. I suppose that's because I'm weird and also because we don't have Foxtel. 

My Mum gave me the entire series of Downtown Abbey, because I started to watch it and somehow dropped off and missed it. So again, I can catch up with a show when it's done and dusted. I'm funny like that. I prefer things when they're old news or celebrities when they're conveniently dead. Makes so much more sense, right? Okay, not really. I'm just always late to the party. But since the party doesn't start until I get there it's all good, right? I'm SUCH a party animal. Snorts. 

And watch daggy TV shows and listen to daggy music...

So that's me. Always watching the deep and meaningful, hard-hitting programmes. I rarely watch the news. Don't judge me. Okay, judge away...

The truth is, I'm anxious person, so I  take the approach to my anxiety that anyone would for any chronic condition. For instance, if you had epilepsy you wouldn't expose yourself to anything that provokes an episode. Therefore, I won't expose myself to anything I find too anxiety-provoking, if I can help it. Of course I'm also an airhead so there is that. But I'm a nice airhead, aren't I? 

Okay, so I'm off to watch a few re-runs. 

* There was no need to use the words 'might be' in that sentence. 

Linking up for I Must Confess, Open Slather and 
Mummy Mondays.

What are your guilty TV pleasures? 

Can anyone recommend some current TV shows for this airhead?

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Ten Fascinating Things About Me

 Here goes. Ten utterly fascinating things about me. Using 'fascinating' in the sense of 'mind-numbing'....

1. I've never had a sister (I have one older brother) though I do have two excellent sister-in-laws, Mick's sister Janette and my brother's wife, Nicole. Likewise, I will never have a daughter. One day I may have a daughter-in-law or three. I'm hoping they'll be excellent too. 
2. My middle name is Faye with an 'e'. Clearly, or I would have spelt it Fay. 
3. I lived with my parents until I was 23 when I moved in with Micky Blue Eyes so it's distinctly possible that I've lived a sheltered life. In Boganville. I find this ironic.
4. I went to Holland with my parents when I was 10 years old in 1981. This seems destined to be my first and last overseas trip. Sigh. 
5. I'm starting to wonder if I'm in peri-menopause as my moods are somewhat erratic: I'm joyous then weeping then feeling like I could punch the next person who glances sideways at me then having a panic attack then joyous again and around it goes..... Totally normal, right?
6. I was 26 weeks pregnant with Mr 12 in 2001 before I noticed this minor detail. Oops.
7. I lost a little man when I had a still birth 19 weeks into the pregnancy in 2007. 
8. I was diagnosed with Asperger's in 2011 at age 40. 
9. I have 150 plus Facebook 'friends' but my closest real life friend is my friend Kim, who was born five days before me and is the smartest person in the whole World - because she's my friend obviously - and because she doesn't use Facebook or any social media at all. 
10. I am shamefully hopeless when it comes to taking and organising photos. I have boxes of them stashed in cupboards instead of sorted into albums. I tried to find some photos of Kimmy and my sister-in-laws to post here and I could only find ones that are really old. So guess what? No photos. You are saved the embarrassment. You can thank me later. 

Two Ten things I love....

1. Karen Carpenter
2. Cakies
3. Karen Carpenter
4. Cakies
5. Karen Carpenter
6. Cakies
7. Karen Carpenter
8. Cakies
9. Karen Carpenter
10. Oh yeah, I have kids. They're alright, too. 

Ten things I would like to ban from the World forever...

1. Lego 
2. Lego
3. Lego
4. Lego
5. Lego
6. Lego
7. Lego
8. Lego
9. Lego - and, finally..
10. Lego

Okay, that's only one thing as such but it's one thing that means A MILLION pieces so it counts as ten! Shut up. 

Ten Reasons To End This Pointless Post...

1. I have house work to do.
2. I have nothing remotely interesting to say about myself. 
3. I have exercise to do. 
4. I've wasted the whole morning coming up with absolutely nothing of any note to say about myself.
5. There are such entertaining day time television programmes on that I'm missing. 
6. It's lunch time and I might turn into one of those strange people who forget to eat.
7. I have important places to be and important people to see. 
8. There must be a million other things I could be doing.
9. I think I may be procrastinating just a teensy, tiny bit. 
10. All of the above.

Ten Counter Points To The Above List...

1. House work sucks.
2. That's never stopped you before.
3. You can do it later - why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?
4. At least you didn't waste it doing house work.
5. Since when have infomercials about funeral insurance been entertaining? (Although, you have to admit a bit of Dr Phil is sometimes entertaining).
6. Rahahahahaha!
7. Well, I can imagine I do. Shut up.
8. Meh, it's only a million. Do them later. See counter point number 3. 
9. You think?
10. Details. Hmph! 

Okay, I think I'm done now. I'm off to find ten more ways to procrastinate. I'll spare you the list this time. You're welcome.

Linking up with Musings of The Misguided for The Lounge.

                                               What are ten ways to procrastinate?

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The Best Thing I've Ever Done

What is the best thing I've ever done?  I have NO IDEA.  Ask me what I've never done. That would be easier to answer. The list of things I've never done and will never do is rather long and detailed. The list of things I will never do if I live to be a hundred and one, even longer.

I've never:

• Travelled to far away, exotic places, unless you count Dubbo. And I certainly don't.
• Had a thriving, successful career, or even any sort of average job that I've been remotely good at.
• Made a five year plan. Or even a five minute one.
• Known what I wanted to do when I grow up. Still don't.
• Made friends easily and consequently had millions of the things coming out of my arse. Or, you know, I've just never had millions of friends. Forget about the arse thing.
• Been adventurous. I've never wanted to do anything heart racing such as bridge climbs, white water rafting or bungee jumping. I'm a two feet planted firmly on the ground kind of girl. 
• Been the owner of one of those sleek and blindingly white homes seen in magazines and on the telly.
• Been stylish, elegant and effortlessly chic. Instead I've always be the one wearing too much eye make-up and a dodgy, at home dye job teamed with bargain, sales rack clothes from not very classy stores. 
• Been one of those competitive 'Tiger' Mums, bragging about my kids  and how brilliant they are to anyone and everyone.
• Been competitive, period. I can't win the race, because I'm never in it.

Anyway, I could go on for days with this list. Instead I'm supposed to be telling you the best thing  that I've actually DONE.  The truth is, I really don't know. Or maybe I do. It's just that it's not the things I think I should have acheived.

I will never have a home that looks like THIS.

I've stumbled through life, feeling like an alien. Along the way I managed to have the odd job, (even if I thought I was never very good at any of them), make a few friends, get married and pop out a few sprogs. Nothing remarkable. Nothing remarkable at all. Seemingly.

Also, before all of that I managed to survive through several years of infertility. The fact that I ended up conceiving at all was all because of the shit I did to help myself. Actually exercising like a demon and being *gasp*, healthy. Then, after we had our first two boys, Micky Blue Eyes was diagnosed with bowel cancer. Surprisingly, that wasn't very much fun. Okay, not surprisingly, but we got through it. Just when we had picked ourselves back up of the floor from that little shock, we had another shock. I was up the duff again. But this pregnancy ended in tragedy, when I lost the little man at 19 weeks, and, to make matters worse, still had to go through birthing him. That was actually the WORST thing I've ever done. I'm  supposed to be telling you the BEST thing. I'm getting to that. I think. I hope. Maybe. Whatever. You've probably stopped reading by now, anyway. Sigh.

I think the point I am trying to make is that sometimes the best thing you can do, the biggest achievement, is to survive all the worst things. Does that even make sense?

I've survived all of the above and am still relatively sane (okay, it's debatable), as well as bumbling along through life without the diagnosis of Asperger's until I was 40. Did I mention that? That was a fairly big deal for me and a gigantic yawn for everyone else. Which is what this post is turning into.  Sorry!

Plus, the fact that I've survived all of this and went on to become a Professional Bogan, boring everyone with this bogan themed blog is quite a stunning achievement in itself. Whether it's stunning in a good way or bad way- well, draw your own conclusions. I think you know what mine is. I'm a very proud bogan blogger. So ner.

Now I am also facing one of my biggest challenges yet. Potentially giving up cakies. I know. Heartbreaking. If I survive this, it could possibly be my biggest achievement to date. I am having a Glucose Tolerance Test on Monday. I get to carb load for the next few days before finding out if my cakie addiction has caught up with me. This should be interesting. Or boring as batshit, really. Stay tuned. Or tune out. Or whatever.

Linking up with The Lounge. which is being hosted by Tegan from Musings Of The Misguided.

What is the best thing you've ever done? It may not be what you think...

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Introverts Guide To Getting Rid Of Unwanted Guests

Apparently I can't be funny when I'm in the throes of chocolate-free feral PMS. I'm permanently in a rather delightful mood: I feel like punching anyone who might have the misfortune of glancing sideways at me. Let alone ringing my doorbell. As this old post (which you may find amusing) reveals...

Last weekend was decidedly social. The equivalent of being a social butterfly really. For me, anyway. Dinner out with friends on Friday, followed by a girls day out on Saturday. I'm not a very social person. Kind of goes with the territory of being an Aspie and an introvert. I can do it for a while but then fatigue sets in and I have to go crawl into a cave somewhere. Metaphorically speaking. 

My idea of socialising: Me and a cakie the size
of my head. Or, you know, larger even.

It's weird. All those years when I was at school, friendless, I really craved company and friendship. Even the most fervent introvert still really needs a friend or two. Real ones. Not pretendy ones. Luckily, years later I have found this. Friends who accept me. It is quite a bit to ask. I know I'm weird. Talking to me must be utterly riveting. Small talk isn't for me. Talking in general isn't for me. Unsure exactly how many words I might utter in any given day, possibly somewhere between 1 and 20. Which is me being chatty. Thinking about it, I'm surprised I have a single friend in the world, let alone a husband and family.

The biggest surprise is my boys. They are not quiet. They can be extremely gregarious and garrulous. Mr 8 can waffle on like a bonafide chatterbox. They also enjoy being social and having mates over almost on a daily basis. At which point I realise I really like my privacy. And I become disconcertingly aware that they are going to become more and more social and have girlfriends eventually and (hold me), hordes of mates dropping over all the time. I get a little headachey just thinking about it. Especially as being a, *ahem* mature (geriatric) Mum, I will be quite ancient by this time. A rather grumpy old woman. I don't expect I shall suddenly become more social as I age. Quite the reverse. I will be needing one of these:

Actually, we rarely entertain visitors. Especially as this slack-arsed bitch never invites them. Oops.

However, I still want my boys to have friends and socialise, so how do I find a good compromise? I never paused to consider the amount of socialising that would be required when having children. When they were babies, it was fine. Now things have changed. As much as I want them to have friends and socialise, I also desperately need quiet time. So what do I do when I've had enough and it's time for their friends to go home? I could be diplomatic and assertive and just politely ask them to leave, which does work. Mostly. Or, I could be really clever and come up with some other strategies to not only leave, but question whether to ever return.Which is what I've done. Here it is. The totally tongue in cheek Introvert's Guide To Getting Rid of Unwanted Guests. (Although frankly, if the natural state of the bogan box isn't enough to deter people, nothing may be). I came up with this list with the help of fellow introvert, my online (imaginary) friend, Randa. I don't know how our meeting will ever go if we do ever manage to meet in person, but I'm sure it will be interesting. Either we will hit it off immediately or sit there with absolutely nothing to say to each other. Anyway, thanks Randarooney.

The Introverts Guide To Getting Rid of Unwanted Guests

• Cook with lots of garlic.
• Ditto eggs, for that nice farty egg aroma.
• Play Carpenters music really loud. Or Barry Manilow or Air Supply or any cheesy easy listening music.
• Never have any interesting food or drinks in the house (pretty much got that covered).
• Do not buy a massive trampoline (epic fail).
• Begin walking around in your underwear.
• Hug and kiss your children profusely in front of their mates.
• Remind them loudly of every embarrassing thing they have ever done, in front of mates.
• Hide the controls to the PS3 and feign total ignorance of knowing where they are.
• Always keep buckets with pretend chunder around and parmesan for the smell, while clutching your stomach and groaning.
• Have a sign at the door saying: 'We have a nude policy. All clothes must be disrobed before entering.'
• Become a germ-phobic-OCD freak who douses all guests in Dettol before they can come in the door.
• Obtain some giant, snarly Dobermans or Rottweilers for pets, or just stick up a sign warning of a dog with tape recorded sound effects of a growling hound.
• Exclaim loudly of your dismay over your kids recent bouts of head lice as you are picking them up from school.
• Ditto recent bouts of worms.
• Erupt into wild, manic laughter for no reason when answering the door, then stop abruptly, exclaiming "I forgot my medication!" Then burst into tears.
• Become a candidate for the TV show 'Hoarders: Buried Alive', then there will be no chance of even opening the door, let alone somebody coming in.
• Leave dozens of empty alcohol bottles out the front when the trash is being collected.
• Cover your entire house with Twilight memorabilia and posters, smile wickedly revealing your fangs while you inform all guests that you are, in fact, a family of vampires as they gaze around, dumbstruck.
• Cry out in mock alarm: "Boys, the pet python got out!! Where is it? It could be anywhere!!"
• Talk loudly about your past prison record in front of your children's mates.
• Tell your children's mates you enjoyed their company so much that next time they come over it's River Dance night.
• Announce it's time to polish your spoon collection and anyone still in the house in the next five minutes has to help.
• Tell any dinner guests that you were so looking forward to them coming that you decided to actually wash the cutlery properly this time instead of letting the dog lick it clean like usual.
• Scratch yourself all over wildly while enquiring of your guests: "Is it normal to itch this much with fleas?"
• Inform any adult guests that the couples for the swingers party are arriving soon and may block their cars in.
• Have a back up plan for the previous point just in case they surprise you and wish to join in. Say: "Sure, no problem, Come and see our dungeon. I hope you've had your rabies shot."
• Ask your guests brightly: "How do you like our new carpet? The crime scene cleaners did such a great job, didn't they?"
• Exclaim to any guest who arrives at the door: "Thank god you're here! I need somebody to help with my waxing! I just can't seem to reach the middle of my back."

If any or all of the above do not work then I could only suggest moving to a foreign country. Or getting yourself and your kids some new friends because the ones you have must be seriously fucked up.


What do you do to get rid of unwanted guests? Or is it open house at your place? (You weird, bloody extrovert folk...)

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