Goodbye To 2017

Happy new year, dear reader! I'm sure it will happy some of the time anyway. Except when it's not. Because that's kind of how life is. If your life is always happy then please leave a comment telling me what drugs you're on and where I can get them.

Meanwhile, before I get on with this year I wanted to tell you a bit about the year just gone. 

In 2017 I: 

January: Curly hair.

• Slept for hours. And had the weirdest dreams EVER. 
• Folded MOUNTAINS of washing because I have SUCH a glamorous life.
• Made the weekly pilgrimage to Aldi because I have to get my excitement somehow.
• Started the year with curly hair and finished with spiky hair. 
• Ate lots of bad food.
• Ate lots of good food. 
• Got a new shrink because apparently I am still demented.
• Felt anxious in K Mart.
• Felt calm in Coles.
• Drank a billion cups of tea.
• Borrowed tonnes of books from the library then forgot to take them back on time.
• Drank cappucinos while sitting on orange chairs under fluorescent lights. 
• Daydreamed.
• Wrote pointless lists.
• Wrote purposeful lists. 
• Chose my 'one word': MOVE.
• Decided to take this word as more of a light suggestion in favour of other entrancing words, such as REFINED CARBOHYDRATES and SLOTH. 
• Pondered important questions.
• Pondered trivial questions.
• Prayed I didn't have cancer again. And I don't even believe in God. Weird.
• Had my tits crushed. I didn't have cancer. YAY! 
• Had a tooth ripped out. Which is always fun. Said no one ever.
• Drank lots of Bailey's Coffee Liqueur in Wagga Wagga.
• Drank champagne in the south of France.
• Made stuff up. Like that last point. Incidentally I have no idea why the south of the France is supposed to be better than anywhere else in France. I'm never likely to find out either. Sigh.
• Wrote in a two dollar journal from KMart with glitter pens from Aldi.  Yes, I know. There was no need for me boast about such things. We've already established how lavish my life is. 
• Passed a lady at the shops wearing a vivid multi-coloured sparkly kaftan with her hair dyed just as many colours and thought she's probably quite fun to have as a friend. Or a complete nut. One or the other. 

November: Spiky hair. 

And I could go on and on, but it's obvious what an eventful year 2017 was for me. So it is with a wistful heart that I say farewell to you, 2017. No, we will never meet again, except in my memories. Well, let's face it,  not even there particularly, because I have a brain like a sieve. So it's a firm goodbye. You were neither good, nor bad. Just meh. Boring. Beige. But I didn't mind a bit of beige. I've had quite enough of pink, thank you very much. 

Let's see what 2018 brings. Be nice, 2018! 

What about you?

What did you do in 2017?

Read More

One Word

Why hello there! And a happy new year to you! It's still January so I can say that, right? 

Apparently there is this thing where you are supposed to choose a word that is meant to define your year ahead. 

You know, something like: 

Joy
Abundance
Gratitude
Nesstacular (Okay, I made that one up) 
Hope 
Believe 
Abso-fucking-lutely (I may have watched too many episodes of SATC) 
Contentment
Eisenbahnscheinbewegung (Yes, it's totally a word according to Buzzfeed. Reliable source, no?). 
Insert any other inspiring word you can think of...

The problem is, I seem to have no words at the moment. I've logged in here a few times and started typing only to trail off and give up. Everything I wrote seemed like blah blah blah who really cares anyway and I'm boring myself so I must be boring everyone else... I. just. can't. be. bovvered. 

On the other hand, having nothing to say has never seemed to stop me before, so why all the over thinking it now? 

As long as my one word for 2017 isn't the same as it has been every other year:

CAKE.

Well, except on my birthday...  You MUST have cake on a birthday! And it's someone's birthday somewhere every day, as the joke goes... Anyway, enough about that! Moving on. 

A bit of a google search has revealed this site called My One Word. I should have known there would be a site for everything. We never have to think for ourselves thanks to dear old Google. A quick glance at their suggested words and I've got it! 

MOVE. 

I really, really need to do more of this.

About a week or so ago I actually did shit tonnes of house work (truly!). At the end of the day I looked at my fitness tracker device and I'd clocked up almost 11,000 steps! Can housework really be good for you after all??!! 

When I'm typing I'm moving my fingers, (even if it is drivel), so that's something! It's a start, anyway. 

Just to state a bit of the old Captain Obvious (because I'm always helpful like that), it's been too furiously hot to do anything besides sit there and melt. Phew! Straya! 

These outfits would never work in Straya. Shame. 

But move I must. Somehow. Eventually. I've still got a whole eleven other months of 2017 after January ends... Shut up. 

In the usual tradition of my disjointed nonsensical rambling posts, I'll just jump onto another train of thought...

I must admit I'm rather partial to a few words from that previously mentioned Buzzfeed listicle. 

I think persiflage and panglossian  are EXACTLY what I am about in 2017! In fact it's always been about persiflage on this here blog. 

DONE.

I started out with no words and came up with three to define my year! 

My word for 2017 is: 

MOVE.

With an honourable mention to PERSIFLAGE and PANGLOSSIAN.

Side note:  Just in case you couldn't be bothered reading that Buzzfeed listicle: Persiflage means frivolous and light-hearted talk; Panglossian means extreme optimism even during adversity. Perfect! 

Okey dokey, now that I've indulged in this frivolity (persiflage!) I had better actually, erm... MOVE. 

Over and out. 

Linking up for Life This Week.

What is your word for 2017?

Read More

This Is My New Year's Resolution...

Yes, it's me again! I am, indeed, still alive! That's always good news. Speaking of good news, I have SO MUCH to tell you! Obviously, since I haven't checked in here in months and my life is always a hot-bed of intrigue. Well, my bed is frightfully hot presently and I'm intrigued by lots of things. That's the same thing, I'm quite certain.

Anyway, I had better get on with bringing you up to date with all my doings! It's been epic, so you had better grab your beverage of choice and some popcorn and settle in. Or perhaps a nice piece of fresh fruit since it's the beginning of the year and a Monday, so the odds are high that you're on a health kick. We won't say the nasty little D word. The fact that I am on Weight Witches is completely irrelevant. It's not a.... (insert d word) it's a lifestyle! That's the lovely little illusion we tell ourselves as we munch our way through shit tonnes of salad and pay people to humiliate us with weekly weigh ins. Works for me!

But where was I? Oh, that's right I was about to enthral you with all my shenanigans. Yes, ENTHRAL is the correct word. On the other hand, I'm not really sure what shenanigans are, but they sound impressive. So let's get straight to it! Or should I waffle on for another paragraph? Waffle it is! I mean, the whole post is waffle anyway. So on with the waffling!

Sit back and prepare to be transfixed with all my entertaining exploits. Be thrilled by my fascinating adventures, riveting escapades and action-packed...um....erm....adventures. Okay, I already said adventures!  So what? HMPH.  But you will see what I mean.

Perch on the edge of your seat as you read with nail-biting anticipation of my numerous trips to  buy groceries, my pointless attempts at housework and my ongoing gig as reluctant nurse to Mickey Blue Eyes. Florence Nightingale, I ain't.  Get your own ice-pack, you lazy bastard. Just because you're on bloody crutches and in a knee brace is no excuse to be idle! Jeez, some people!

Read with undisguised envy of my weekly drop offs to physio-therapy appointments, repeated attempts to visit Medicare over the Christmas period and valiant efforts to convince three rambunctious boys that nobody has ever actually died of terminal boredom as yet. Yes, some folk may have considered flinging themselves in front of an oncoming bus or opening a vein during some particularly tedious times, but Terminal Boredom isn't actually an affliction. Get over it, dudes.

In addition to all of this flurry of activity, I have also made time to participate in an astonishing array of avant garde activities. These include:

• Sleeping
• Eating
• Walking the dog
• Whinging about the heat
• Turning the air conditioner on
• Preparing meals for three ungrateful offspring who do not appreciate my superb culinary skills
• Whinging about the heat some more
• Turning the air conditioner up
• Scrolling down my Facebook feed to see all the shiny, happy people living their shiny, happy lives
• Whinging about the heat some more
• Melting into a puddle
• Drinking gallons of water
• Peeing a billion times a day (see above)
• Staring into space
• Writing shopping lists which I forget when I actually go shopping
• Opening the fridge for the fiftieth time a day only to discover that it contains the same disappointing contents it did the previous forty-nine times I opened it
• Opening the fridge and cupboards five million times a day for three ravenous boys who not only find the contents disappointing in the extreme, but also blame you for this deprivation with unreserved scorn and vitriol. 
• Schlepping out to become insolvent by buying an extraordinary amount of groceries, only to lug them all home, have to put them away, figure out what to cook with them to please a family and your Weight Witchy self.  After which, you receive yet more scorn and vitriol with the added bonus of a shit tonne of washing up as well. Awesome.  
• Repeat the above point every two days, as all food seems to be devoured in this short amount of time. 
• Weep at the at the cost of all those grocery bills

I could go on, but I'm certain I'm making you all jealous. Okay, not really. 

As you may have guessed from all of the above, 2014 for me limped it's way to a lacklustre finish. Which was handy, because it was just in time for 2015 to limp in a similar lackadaisical fashion. But it's all good, because as we all know new years are the time for all that 'new year, new me' bullshit. 'You've just started a 365 page book, write a good one' and all that rah rah stuff.  So I may as well get on board and make a few resolutions. 

Here goes:

1. I resolve to read more! I already have a gazillion books waiting for me, so it seems a shame to just leave them lying around. Done!
2. I resolve to catch up on my sleep debt. I've got a good 14 years of sleep deprivation to catch up on. So it's nanna naps all the way for 2015. An exclamation point there would seem to imply rather more energy than is necessary for napping so I gave it a miss. 
3. I resolve to daydream more! After all, it's just like meditation, right? 
4. I resolve to learn more, this will require online research and web surfing.But it's all the name of self-improvement. Ahem.
5. I resolve to try new foods. After all, chocolate is food, isn't it? There must be so many varieties that I haven't tried yet. Sounds like a plan to me. 
6. I resolve to make new friends. On Facebook. Imaginary friends are so much easier. I don't have to clean the house up for them. So if you want to shoot me a friend request, feel free. 
7. I resolve to catch up with old friends. In person! In fact, I already did on New Year's Eve! So we're good until at least May, I reckon. 
8. I resolve to write more meaningless, random, waffling, ad hok drivel and post it here. You're welcome! 
9. I resolve to keep going to Weight Witches until I'm finally a witch like Samantha. The nose twitching thing doesn't seem to be working as yet. Damn. 
10. And finally, I have some vague hope that 2015 may be the year that I actually get that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Otherwise I resolve to go quietly insane.  Oh wait. Too late....

Happy New Year from a quietly insane woman

What is your New Year's Resolution? 

Read More

The Meaning Of Life Is....42

Apparently it is now 2013. All the fireworks and doof doof here in Boganville last night, kind of gave it away.  Meaning, there were slightly more fireworks than what we usually hear every night. Anyway, I should probably wish you a Happy New Year. So I will. 

Happy New Year! May 2013 see all your dreams come true and Gangnam Style finally dying a long overdue, painful death. My neighbours very helpfully decided to blast it at around two seconds past midnight. Yeah, the 500 gazillion, trillion times I heard it in 2012 weren't quite enough, thanks very much. 

Anyway, being January, it probably means I should take the Christmas tree down. Eventually. It also means I will be turning 42 in approximately 14 days. Supposedly this is the answer to the meaning of life. 42.  According to Douglas Adams anyway.

It’s been a while since I read the Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy series (since high school in fact) , so I can’t quite remember the finer details.

All I remember is these two things coming up at some point in the series: the answer to the meaning of life is 42 and the phrase  Don’t Panic!  Both of which are relevant to me presently as I tend to be overly panicky and I will be 42 very soon.

Therefore, I expect I shall suddenly possess the wisdom of the ages. Have it all sorted. Stop panicking? That would be good.

That, or I shall suddenly stomp off to Greece on a  holiday, a la Shirley Valentine, leaving my ungrateful family behind blinking. I remember watching that movie  a very long time ago and thinking that 42 sounded really old. Yet here I am. Really old.

The thing is, I couldn’t stomp off to  Greece even if I wanted too.  My children are not grown up. I have a four year old. I am destined to be mistaken for his Granny by the time he is at school. Sigh.

There is also another reason I couldn't stomp off to Greece. Or anywhere. It would scare the bejesus out of me.

Jetsar, fasten your seatbelts, here come some scary Bogans again. But,
I have tragically never been on flight by myself.

 

The truth is, I am (almost) 42 and have never even been on a flight by myself. I know, tragic, aren’t I?

I have also never:

·         Smoked a cigarette

·         Taken illegal drugs

·         Had a bikini wax

·          Or even a leg wax

·         Been so drunk I’ve thrown up or couldn’t remember it

·         Seen a dead person (unless my not quite cooked baby counts)

·         Had a career

·         Bought a car

·         Had a broken heart (unless losing my not quite cooked baby counts)

And I still can’t:

·         Make eye contact

·         Talk/communicate

·         Have a successful job interview due to the above two things

·         Sew a button on

·         Be organised

·         Make scones (well,I can,but they don’t rise

 

*   Make anything remotely edible, according to my boys anyway

·         Make a decision about the slightest thing, even what to have on a sandwich

·         Have a needle or blood test without freaking out

·         Ditto dentist appointments

·         Programme the dvd/vcr

·         Do anything whatsoever involving technology

·         Read a map

·         Reverse park (sorry, I’m letting down the sisterhood, admitting these last two. Admitting all of them really)

Anyway, we could be here for another 42 years. You get the idea.

I have been on a plane, just never by myself. Once with my parents and lots of times with Micky Blue Eyes. And then with Micky Blue Eyes and the boys. Which is ever so fun (insert sarcasm here).

So naturally we are doing so again and flying up to Queensland on January 8th. There I will spend my birthday. I expect it will just be another day and I'll feel exactly like I did the day before.

Completely clueless. Thoroughly inept and inadequate in every facet of life.

But at least I'll get to have cake.

And I’ll just have to keep remembering: Don’t panic!

What have you never done? What IS the meaning of life? Just kidding. But if you really have it figured out I’d be interested!

Read More