from little things, big things grow

TUNE SWOON! Paul Kelly is a crutch to all emotionally injured Aussies. Having a bad day? wack on 'songs from the south' and therapy is at your stereo speaker. In his complete discography, there is a track to suit your mood, situation or context. (all the best things come out of melbourne..)

To say this penguin is capricious, bold, strong willed, and fierce are just words to paint a picture. a picture i have my way with every day. Usually to my detriment. (enter paul kelly). started an internship today and by 11am, wanted to be riding through the streets in a silver top - not to her door - but out of that place. It's been done before, and it felt fantastic. This time however requires patience and perseverance. not two of my strong points. People tell me it gets easier, and when the class room is your own, it makes it all the more enjoyable. But i was on struggle street. didn't help that it was suicide tuesday (post weekend come-down). I didn't stand the chance of a cinder in snow... but i pulled it together, knowing better. It's just bread and butter for the future before i write a book, or take over the world. I mean, Sting was a teacher before founding The Police. oh musicians, you make everything look so dreamy..

neil young & indian cuisine

perfect sunday night. he's a miner for a heart of gold, i'm a miner for a garlic naan. 

aaah shitchyeh! super duper delicious hangover dinner for one.

New found love for nights like this; So much so, that i have decided to hibernate for winter. I have a big few months of work coming up and i feel like my little body will give up if i continue the way i roll. I'm amazed i remembered my name after the last week of ridiculous antics i took on.

Nights in bed by 8.30pm. Phone thrown into the sea, No smoking. Ha! we'll see about the first 2 but i'm deadly serious about the darbs. its just unattractive.. every single photo i'm in, my friends included, there are cigarettes present. and i feel like shit most of the time. and i have an addictive nature. chain smokin' camel. eeewww. stop woman! stop NOW.

shrooms ala bel

belinda shot my "i can't cook" argument in the head.

She told me this little treat and i didn't even stuff it up. Goes well with a glass of stoneleigh at 3pm while writing essays... Mmmm.

Button mushrooms.

rip out trunks.

upside down, stuff with mass proportions of cheese 

(i went with sweet, rubbery havati... but whatever you like)

turn your oven onto hot.

add some lazy garlic to the stuffing (jar junk)

pepper.

curry powder.

put mushies under grill for ....i don't know, until melted.

pretty tastey...

on the hunt...

A new playlist called 'Laundry Songs' is making housework fun.

I have now 3700 songs on my iPod, thanks to the other night's fleecing of my friends entire library (thanks again!). Now the songs are becoming like pogs when you were 10.. how many could you collect?

i can't possibly listen to 10,000 songs, but i want that many because it will hold that many.

more! more! more! 

how d'ya like it!?

how d'ya like it?!

tales of a hyena

She had stopped, looked down at square one which she was back standing in, took in her life behind her and purred thoughtfully. This wayward hyena had lived a thousand lives and felt more than just the ground below her glorious paws. Just like a satellite, she floated around from place to place, from animal to animal, writing cheques and breakin' necks. In this seemingly scattered but sublimely happy feline existence, she was anchored by a select few. As far as she flung herself into the wilderness, at any given time she could be coaxed back to reality by these ones, like keys to her little hyena heart.

She'd be happy to talk to you and you and you. At the watering hole, she was the darling of the reeds. She'd climb to the top of the boab tree to fetch you a nesting treat at sunset. She ran and squealed and had all the fun that came along. To say she was curious would be an understatement. As much love as this hyena had in her life, she realised she was very lonely. She gave her energy to so many she held in high regard but began to feel they used her. Minus the anchors, she began to feel bitter towards most faces she met and places she kept.

The hyena was friends with the honey bee. She wished with all her hyena heart that she could fly away with the honey bee. He was her friend, he seemed strong and he went where ever his wings would take him. Although he was strong, and was able to carry much more than his own body weight, he couldn't carry a whole hyena. All alone, she wept at night and couldn't sleep for the stars; they were so bright and happy, she felt they mocked her. The honey bee was always in her heart and her in his but the hyena would have to find her own path. 

There was a big bear who tried to comfort the hyena. He seemed to be able to do lots of amazing things. He was strong and loud and was fun when he made a scene. He was warm and shared his food with the hyena. As much as the hyena found comfort and shelter in the beautiful bear, he wasn't filling her heart with the kind of joy she lacked. So she concluded that the Bear & she would always be friends, but farewelled him on his impending adventures to other lands and she went and slept under an oak tree, wishing she could find her anchors again. The ones who owned her heart, who made her safe and happy. Before her best friend, the honey bee returned from his adventures, a nasty cheetah crept through the long grass and scoped her out. She slept peacefully until the cheetah pounced and ripped open her neck. The hyena never recovered, the honey bee didn't know what had happened to her until he flew past the oak tree and saw her strung up by the neck. Those cheetahs sure know how to get creative with long grass. The honey bee flew away - so distraught that he plunged head first into her favourite watering whole and drowned himself. and the bear was never heard from again.

the end.

chuft

k-rudd... YAY-RUDD!

$$$

hand shandy: 'avin a wank.

golden handshake: a substantial gift made to compensate for losses.

stimulus: money designed to increase growth...

pattern?

Rubbish!

• Payday pauses.
  
• insurance direct debiting on an empty account.
• compost.

In more detail:

Payday didn't happen as originally planned for, based on previous experience because of the god damn 5 thousand day long weekend. so i'm bones for another day.

Therefore, my insurance which was due - ya know, like yesterday - has to be taken double next month. I'm a student which of course mean i have ALL KINDS OF MONEY just lyin' around...

Now, Compost. what.the.fuck? I'm not green in the slightest. I don't recycle, i don't use carbon omission environmentally  friendly ozone changing petrol. I use straight down the line dirty, wonderfully energising unleaded. i throw ciggarette butts out of my car when i drive and i fucking don't do food scraps in an outside wannabe port-a-loo. 

i'm an asshoooooole, a-s-s-h-o-l-e, everybody! 

There are fruit + vege scraps, tea bags, eggs, and god knows what else, in my pyrex CAKE MIXING bowl (not a benchtop bin, thank you). and when you open the compost bin, it's swarming with winged shit. i have a rash on my belly all of a sudden, i'm sure its from that. I've just noticed some smug little bastards flying around my kitchen even though i've cleaned it thoroughly. i don't do bugs at the best of times. Insect of choice comes in the form of varnish - shellack caramelised bug wings for the sake of art. thats my line in the sand and i'm staying on this side of it. this is all about house guests. they turn organised homes into chaos. share housing and me is looking bleak...

just a modicum of taste, please

Fake Tan, never a fan. I work for a conglomerate which endorses this shit year round, but it's not for me. Nor is too much real sun. Hanging my washing on the line and tooling around on my push bike is as much as i expose myself to vit.D. Never have i been so proud to be my happy scrappy self than i was last night. to set the scene; i wear little make up these days, i'm kinda boney. without my beloved GHD straightener, my hair is getting curlier by nature, i have 2 eggs sunny side up residing on my chest, and i'm pasty. oh and i'm still a roughly spoken woman. i fucking love it. dark circles under my eyes, unplucked eyebrows, i drop the c-bomb (rarely), the odd one tiny blemish and i'm human. I once flirted with the idea of a fake rack. actually had an affair for a few months with the idea, but i found some perspective on life, i think it was hiding in the bookshelf where i left my brain.  I suppose I have probably written something about this before but it bugs me. 

Admittedly, self esteem is not the easiest thing to come by and i don't have a skinful of the stuff but i've gotten to a point where i'm OK with being me. Beyond all that image/comfort bollocks, it's just a fucking hassle. who is supposed to tan your back? how is one supposed to get ones legs EVENLY orange?! And further more, whats with tanning the face? learn to do your make up properly and buy a powder bronzer... not only have companies done serious study into the effects of the ingredients of such skin stains but it looks creepy. The other hassle is weather. In these times of ecological change, humidity is rising and rain is falling from the sky when you least expect it to. If you're rubbing your face in something beyond Olay, that shits gonna streak like gerkins on a mcDonalds window when you're stoned... GO! GO !GO! it's the whole scene man, the acrylic nails, the super flat hair, the bad 16yr old style eyeliner,.... keep it, all you katie price-wannabes. now that's AMBITION! grosssssss

Zombie Jesus Day!

Pesach. Easter. Ascension. crawling out of the grave to throw chocolate eggs at the children, forever scaring them out of religion as a fairy tale and keeping it as a feared theory.

Passover is the Holy day and festival commemorating The Dude sparing the Hebrews when he killed the first born of Egypt, unleavened bread. tapas and wine basically...

In the story book of fairy tales (bible, history, general law), the dude inflicted 10 plagues upon the Egyptians before Pharaoh would release his Israelite slaves, with the tenth plague being the killing of firstborn sons. The Hebrews were instructed to mark the doorposts of their homes with the blood of a spring lamb and, upon seeing this, the spirit of the Lord passed over these homes, hence the term "passover". When Pharaoh freed the Hebrews, it is said that they left in such a hurry that they could not wait for bread to rise.

when you smile

A mother who pampers her child never lets him get his teeth into anything. Consider the Eskimos, said Dr. Martin. They "use their teeth for everything, including softening frozen leather," and Eskimos rarely suffer from tooth decay. 

- Time Magazine, 'Emotions and Teeth', Monday, Apr. 17, 1939.

'Expression of emotions' - Darwin goes into all sorts of comparisons between man & animal. Revealing teeth in anger, snarling, clenching from anxiety, grinding in stressed sleep, or laughing and bearing your cake hole for good reason.

Teeth say a lot about us as people, our status in the world and our own standards. It's not something you automatically think about regualarly, its something we take for granted (with the exception of a very green salad). Look at someone who has a beautiful set of fangs, natural or braced, and compare them to someone who has absolutely no consideration for mouth disease, thus losing teeth left, right & centre. Who would you rather talk to? Gleam or Gappy? 

Your whole face changes when you smile. your cheeks are rosier, fuller, even your eyes become a discotheque of their own and there is a tingle, when genuinely happy, that wraps around the back of your neck making the hairs stand on end. The guard is down and you reveal something more real about yourself. Babies' first smile (not gas related) is amazing. People achieving whatever little victory in their day and smile achingly all the way home. Nothing makes me happier than your duckie face grinning wildly.