Blogging Development Opportunities

1. It always takes longer to write an entry than you think.
2. You can never think of that perfect word to describe something, just right…
3. …and the 50 year old man sitting in the next cubicle will choke if you say ‘come f*ck me boots’.
4. Your work colleague will come over to chat just as you’re logging in.
5. You always end up having to explain to that you keep a blog, they ask if they can read it, you have to edit or delete entries to take references to ‘the prat/wally/idiot etc’.
6. If you say No, they sulk and give you rubbish jobs or tell everyone in the team, including the boss (more entry deletions/editing).
7. Blogger will have a hissy fit and flash like a super nova every second, but not allow you to collapse the window.
8. When the entry does post, it will appear 20 times…
9. …which means you have to individually delete each extra entry.
10. By the time you finally tidied it up, you realise the last entry just isn’t funny anymore.
    
    These are the 10 things I have learned about trying to sneak a blog entry at work!

Red Boots

For some time I have wanted a pair of red ‘come f*ck me’ boots. For no other reason than I have never been able to buy boot in shops (I have hockey players calf muscles despite not playing for some time) and I like red shoes.

Earlier this year, I went to see the Polish boot makers. The Perkal brothers have been making shoes and boots in the same place for over fifty years. A and M have over 10,000 shoe lasts scattered over three floors in a corner house where they work from 7 in the morning to 3pm in the afternoon. Both of them have sons, but neither has someone to take over the business.

…Anyway, I went to see them in mid June this year to have a pair of Red boots made. I asked for a two and half inch heel with a little width, a classic toe shape and a flap that could be folded down or up depending on the situation they were being worn (down with skirt at office, up with short skirt at club).

There have been various dramas, too tight, not red enough, funny flap…lots of fittings and many lunch hours spent wedging my chunky arse legs into sexy red boot shells. Two weeks ago I went back to pick them up to be told by M ‘I don’t like them and I’ve started making a new pair, come back in a week’.

Fast forward to today. The flap is wrong, again, and resulted in the stitching being unpicked with a blade while my leg was still in them. I stood there, one boot on, one boot off, my trouser leg rolled up to mid thigh, thinking, at this rate they’ll be out of fashion before I pick them up, good job I asked for classic!

(305 words)

Alcohol, Silliness and Sleep

The first line of ‘Forth Day’ proved to be correct. I did indeed go forth and live yesterday, although to be honest, I want to die today!

Let me set the scene for you. Belly Dancing class was full to overflowing and a different teacher not telling us what to do, saw Bella and myself leaving the class early and walking a little way down the road to a less than salubrious establishment for a ‘quick half’ before heading home. Lots of chatting took place, not sure about all conversations I’m pretty sure we had the odd meaningful conversation in between the boll*cks. And I clearly remember revealing my soft spot for Dennis Quaid (I know, I know!) shortly after she spotted that the real Billy Idol is far better looking than the LookyLikey she picked up a couple of months ago. More than a ‘half’ was imbibed.

Shortly before closing we gave ourselves a dancing class with a shimmy to Shrakia’s Whenever, Wherever, then I placed Bella in a cab and very sillily walked home (I live in one of the less than safe a night areas in Sydney).

So today I am in work, and I was a mere 5 minutes late and bit shaky. Actually I’m quite proud of myself after all I had only three and half hours sleep.

Ohh…the unplanned ones are always the best!

(232 words)

Body Language

I had to interview someone the other day. Not job interview, but an interview for an assignment at Uni. The interview was with a published author here in Sydney. The book he wrote was a memoir of being out of work at a certain age and over weight. A great book, I think, and I really wanted to know what he’s been doing with himself over the last couple of year since returning to work and being published.

Anyway…one of the stories he wrote about was his childhood as a boarding school attendee for the age of five. I was a house mistress when I was twenty at the sort of school he writes about. So…the conversation had been going fine, he was waving his arms about in an extravagant way, laughing and generally being very open and frank.

So I asked him how he felt about his school days and if he would consider doing the same with his children (it was I confess a little unfair, I figured he wasn’t quite as open about this particular subject in his book as he liked to think he was). His arms went to his sides and his knee peeked appeared about the table top, as he spoke. A minute more and his arms were folded across his chest and his knee was higher. A couple more minutes and his hands were folded up and under his armpits; his knee was touching his elbow. He continued to speak about those days.

I changed the subject. It was a few minutes of talking about up and coming projects before he relaxed back to waving his arms around once again. We continued talking for another thirty minutes before my time was up and he had another appointment.

The body (and mind, really) is an amazing thing. When happy and comfortable it exposes itself openly but revealing the chest (the most venerable spot). When trying to make someone else comfortable it mirrors the other person (when out, you’ll take sips of your drink or bites of food at the same time as your companion), but when feeling threatened it can give your true feelings away so traitorously, in the guise of defending itself. Surely by showing a need to close itself off like that would show a weakness to be picked at until the barriers fell away? Even better, you don’t know you’re doing these things…unless of course there are pointed out to you.

(407 words)

Forth Day

…a day to go forth and live life and the fourth day at my new job. Sorry I’ve been remise in my duties as a blogger and as a friend recently (Miss E), but life pulled me down for a while there.

All at once I had to finish a job, but not before finding my own replacement (hope you’re happy with my choice Edna), finish and hand in two poetry assignments at Uni, take Arabella Beckham to a show and start a new job. Ohh.. and finish yet another alpaca newsletter. So as I said…not enough to do!

I would like to tell you a little about my new job. But not too much, as it is in Government and if I tell you too much I’ll have to kill you ;-) I’m working for a highly visible department that is failing to put any sort of control on expenditure. I have been brought into the fray to do a little change management (the word EXPERT was used at one point, but I think that’s going a little far) to the process to stop the less than honest people defrauding the fine people of their resentfully given tax money. Enough of the boring bit…

…there is no talent here! None, nada, zilch, diddly squat, there is insufficient funds in the hottie account. Remember that word I used in the last paragraph that began with a capital G. Well all the guys here, must be in there 50’s and have been working here for at least twenty years. I mean…I got in the lift the other day and was followed by a man with green flannel trousers, purple shirt, paisley tie and a brown crunchy leather jacket with plaid patches on the elbows. He also had a grey Monk do, with a major comb over. That, I am sad to say if fairly typical.

The youngest guy here is a graduate student in the Finance department, but I’m really not in admiring jail bait. The next one that could even come close to eye candy, well I’m pretty sure he’s gay!

(351 words)

Last Day at Stateside Speedy

I’ve have an eventful few days in my last week here. First, straight after resigning I was asked if I knew anyone who could take over from me. I didn’t, but I said I knew a few agent that may be able to help. A couple of day later I found myself interviewing my own replacements.

That’s weird I can tell you. Sitting across the table from a Aussie/Italian bloke with small silver earrings in both ears thinking, you’re annoying me, so there is no way you’ve got a chance in hell of sitting in my seat. The next day, I interviewed a lovely lady from Wakefield, UK (but that’s not her fault) who is now sitting in my seat on the 27th floor. In fact, I am perched on the end of my own desk, using my laptop while she cruises the work network.

Also, there was a fire drill this morning. I was so excited, that by the time I got to the bottom of the fire stairs my legs where trembling. Ohh hang on...it had nothing to do with excitement it that I had just walked down over 300 steps!

Drinks tonight…Shark Hotel, Liverpool Street. $3 beers, wine and champers!

Ohh I'm Good!

Uni went well last night. First I received a glowing review for my poem Pigeon and Friend from a well known Aussie poet who just happened to be the guest lecturer for the last two week. He reported to me that it was near perfect, but he wasn’t sure about the line ‘safe in the sky’ because it was the only one that rhymed with anything else in the poem. He suggested I think about changing it, or the first line so it doesn’t rhyme. My new and improved version is below.

Then in Non-Fiction I did a seminar/book review of Join Me by Danny Wallace. That also went down well and I received good marks.

I’ve been having a bit of a panic this semester because I haven’t been feeling as if I’m ‘getting it’, but by all account I have been. I was so chuffed to get good feedback from well known and well respected authors.

Pigeon and Friend (v2)

On high flight
Grey streak above the sky
Secure aloft
Looking down
Scavenging for food
Racing for life

Sitting high
Grey safety on the city’s walls
Watchful sentry
Eyes observe
Looking for foul play
Strives to save life

Rest at height
In harmony they sit as one
Bird and camera
No one sees
Nesting safe and sound
A life that’s safe

Growing Up

Hubby went out to see young Bertie today as well. He is now one week old and well and truly used to his legs.

Wet Feet

Hubby and I helped out on an Alpaca Information stand today. It was the last day of four very wet days. One retailer had to leave on the first day ‘cause the tent that was sheltering them from rain, got blown away by the wind that soon followed.

Last year the same show had four days of glorious sunshine and twenty six degree days. This year rain, wind and grey skies accompanied with fifteen degrees days. We were lucky today because it got up to eighteen, but it rained all. Not just showers and the odd bit of spitting wispy rain, but serious down pours that caused rivers to run in gutters and puddles to turn to ponds.
In the time I spent ‘helping out’ I think I spoke to a grand total of ten people all day. My feet sank deeper and deeper into the mud as the water rose and I even needed to put my gloves on as my finger tips started to chill. I did do a mad dash around the show at the end of the day and picked up a few bargains, as well as some stuff that I got, partially because I felt sorry for the poor sod who had been coping with the rain for four solid days, in marquees lined with straw but still squelching water up your trouser legs.
After packing up and escaping the mud, driving down the freeway I was amazed to see a beat-up station wagon hogging the middle lane, well, that bit didn’t really amaze me but the fact he was drinking a bottle of Tooheys as he drove, did!

(276 words)

A New Beginning

I’ve got a new job!

I was interviewed on Monday, told on Wednesday and I start a week Wednesday. This means I’m going back to working with tradesman and I get to inspire people to change. For once, a recruiter/client said they needed some urgently and they actually meant it.

Yeah me!

Exercise and Bellies

I started my ‘get fitter’ plan last night. A week ago I weighed myself and discovered that I had put on 7kgs in the two months since I broke my arse bone. My tailor made trouser confirmed it when I couldn’t get the zip shut the other day. I have to lie on the bed to do my jeans up, even when they haven’t been tumble dried. I have been trying to eat healthier (salads, veggies, lean meat etc…) and so far I think I’m doing OK.

Exercise in the next hurdle. I’m sure I’m not the only one to have expressed an intense dislike for the gym. I find it boring and un-motivating, so I try other thing to stimulate my urge to firm up my flabby thighs and tummy. The last thing I tried was Fencing. Yes, the type with sword (foil, epee and saber). It involved lots of knee bending, hip works and ankle swelling. The last one was a result of weeks or effort and investment (I purchased a foil). I really enjoyed the activity, but the resulting pain wasn’t so good.

Swimming is an old favourite, but after a while swimming up and down starts to lack something. The rippling blue of the chlorinated water loses its poetic inspiration.

So last night I went to a Beginners Belly Dancing lesson. I was in a room full of sticks apart from the teachers who had a lovely shape and even a tum on her. A few girls had on jingle jangle scarves and one even had one of those back of hand covery things that also jingle’s when moved. I was by far the largest lady there. So imagine if you will, me red loose pants (trousers), fitted turquoise singlet (from Supre, so even thought the label says XL it isn’t really any bigger than that worn by a 6 year old) and bare feet shaking my hips and booty to the sounds of Middle Eastern groove.

I loved it, it doesn’t hurt today (although last night I felt it) so I’m going back with Edna on Monday!

(352 words)

Weather Warning

A week ago today…spring arrived in Sydney. It was a glorious day with sun, no clouds and a nice 24/25 degrees. The next day was the same, and the next. Sunday brought a few light showers (and my Great Grandson ;-), but the temperature stayed nice and high. The sun put his hat on again during the early week and even yesterday morning it was fine.

Last night however, the weather took a turn and plunged us well and truly back into winter. According to the Bureau of Meteorology’s website there was a storm front over Sydney and up to Newcastle (160kms) pelting us with rain and bringing winds to gale force. Today a lot of beaches are closed and the woolly coats are back on. Apparently we have this weather to look forward to at least until next Monday.

I love it, storm fronts, wild winds, rain and it’s still 20 degrees!

(151 words)

100th Post

I just realised when logging in to post more granny pictures of Bertie, this is my 100th anniversary of being a blogger.

Anyway, the purpose of my post… You may have guessed by now, but I'm very proud!

Bertie with his Mother, Wispa

Having a feed at the same time.

I'm a Great Grandmother Again

My granddaughter Wispa had a little boy today. He was born sometime between 6am and 2pm and weighed in at 6.2kg. He has a brown fleece and this is the only photo so far, as it was dusk before I go to see him. I suppose that is the problem with living so far away from my alpacas.

It was a bit of a surprise as she wasn’t due until the middle of September, which explains his small size. He was having a jolly good time running about so he seems healthy enough. Wispa is being attentive and not leaving him too far behind and the rest of the herd is being superb and sheltering both mother and baby from any outside intruders.

More pictures after I spend a little time with the herd on Tuesday morning.

(137 words)

Pointless Fun

The Other Andrew had a little thing on his blog today about his Life Path Number. It's from a site called Blogthings. I went there, found out my Life Path Number is 6, but even better I found out my vampire name (Magdalena of the Far North), I have a 56% chance of being a millionaire, I’m only 67% Libran, when I always believed I was typical, I'm 25% fake 'cause I wax my eyebrows and if I were a flower I would be blue. The best, in light of my chronic high blood pressure problem is that I appear to only be 47% stressed!

Anyway…check it out, if only for a little time wasting.

You've Changed 64% in 10 Years

Compared to who you were ten years ago, you've changed a great deal. In fact, you're probably in a completely different phase of your life - and very happy about it!

How Much Have You Changed in 10 Years?

Pigeon and Friend

Yesterday at Uni, my poetry class homework was set for the week, we had to write a new poem for workshopping next Tuesday. On my way to my next class I saw a pile of pigeon poo at the bottom of a pillar. Looking up I saw a grey security camera and tucked in between it and the roof was a pigeon, safe and sound in the dark (one of the few dark places in the city) for the night. Straight away I wanted to write my poem about it. This is what I came up with today. As usual, feedback welcome about how yummy or crappy my poetry is!

Pigeon and Friend

Flying high
Grey streak above the cityscape
Safe in the sky
Looking down
Scavenging for food
Racing for life

Sitting high
A grey box on the cities walls
Watch for safety
Eyes observe
Looking for foul play
Strives to save life

Resting high
In harmony they sit as one
Bird and camera
No one sees
Nesting safe and sound
A life that’s safe

Beauty Abound

I travelled north over the weekend and stayed in one of the most mediocre hotels I have ever stayed in but the location made up for its decoration (see tap picture in previous entry)/facilities/heating failings.

Falls Forest Retreat was sitting in the bottom of a valley surrounded by mountains and natural bush land. So despite being awake at 0700 on a Sunday morning (I had no idea this time existed on a Sunday) I went for walk in the dew covered grounds in my open toed sandals. Here are a couple of the pictures I took…and they don’t come even close to showing how beautiful and tanquil it was.

My reason for being in Taree was an alpaca meeting, but that only took up six hours of my weekend, so I spent the rest of the weekend in the car mostly, driving. It's a long way to Taree, via Gloucester. I did however get the chance to take some super photos of alpacas and moo cows apart from purdy flowers at sunrise. It was a very visual weekend!

Drainage Solutions

Miss Eudoxia fixates on Loo Roll and Pegs...this weekend I discovered mine while staying in a hotel/motel.

What is the point of having a tap that pours the water directly down the drain?

$10 Question

It would appear that I gave my mobile number to someone whilst out last Friday night. The guy, I have met him before and both times I have found myself supremely un-attracted to him. Well, that may be a tad unfair, he’s dark with a pretty good body, only he’s foot nothing with heels on. Height is important to me, not sure why but I find looking up when talking to a potential boyfriend (I’m married, so it’s been a while, going on memory here ;-) is much more comforting than looking down.

Anyway back to the phone number. On Monday I received a text message from him saying (and I’m paraphrasing) ‘Good night on Friday, wanna catch up for a drink sometime.’ I didn’t respond immediately as I was to sick to think about anyone but myself and my cats who appreciate a good temperature to keep them warm. Today I replied with…’what do we need to catch on up on, exactly? Risotto’

He fired back within 10 minutes a response of ‘anything really’. Not phased at all by the strange, weird even, Risotto comment. If I had received a message like that I would have run for the hills and deleted the number from my phone, but he totally ignored it. Must be keen!

So the question is…should I go for a drink with my little Garden Gnome to find out if he has the secret to a good Risotto?

Not a Hangover

One of the nastiest bugs to cross my path in a long while has landed on my head. At first I thought it was a hangover, come to think of it, I think it snuck in, while I was hungover on Saturday after a rather fine evening on Friday with my mate Edna.

We went to Hellfire, dressed as school girls up for no good. Lollipops were sucked and champagne drunk. No dancing took place as Edna had worn shoes that her feet were not used to, so they looked something like the reddened arses on the St. Andrews Cross in the corner. We got chatted up by a lesbian, an Ozzy Osbourne look-alike, a short but rubber obsessed hunkie. Edna seemed to catch the eye of a very short Billy Idol impersonator. At three forty five am, we assisted each other home before passing out in our respective beds.

Saturday morning passed in a coma like state, before walking to the local ale house for a giant fry-up. I was feeling somewhat tender in the stomach and the head. Edna, being a few year younger seemed to be handling the effects of eth night before somewhat better.

I spent my evening on the couch, gathering no sympathy from my Hubby ‘it’s self inflicted’. Edna I was to learn later, spent it in the company of other friends, drinking hair of the dog.

On Sunday I woke feeling as bad if not worst than Saturday. I read a little, most of my Uni readings for the week. Truman Capote, really isn’t any better be read about as reading his book In Cold Blood. I know it’s supposed to be a master piece, but I find it wordy! Is that fact that I have just been listening to it in audiotape, showing in this blog entry at all?

Monday has come and gone with me in a state of complaining tummy and stuffed up head. Sleeping at the drop of a hat and waking groggy.

Today, Tuesday, I have had to blow off my Uni classes ‘cause I’m still feeling crabby and crap. My nose is running like a tap, my whole body aches, I’m having trouble focussing on anything for more than a moment and I still have the sh*ts…in more way than one.

I hope I feel better tomorrow, ‘cause I’ve got an job interview!

(396 words)