Where’d you go? It’s next year already!
Yeah, alright. I know I haven’t been around much. Or around at all. But I’ve been busy having some sort of real-life, not that I’ve had time to sit down and analyse it or anything so this blog has been direly neglected (sorry).
But I’ll try to keep it brief – the concert went exceedingly well, and I’m really getting into making my own jewellery and accessories as a result. It’s been several weeks without dancing, so I’m feeling a little flat and with the additional of Christmas food and booze, I’m feeling much flabbier again too. Summer school starts up this weekend and then its back to regular classes after Australia day so I’m looking forward to getting back into it.
Christmas, New Years . . . yeah, went as well as can be expected. Christmas was exceedingly laid-back and free of ritual or massive arguments (again, my thanks go to you, dear alcohol) and that suited me just fine.
.jpg "Horror Christmas")
I thought I said my Christmas was "laid back" not "tacky horror"!
All the same, a lot of stress, time, effort and money go into the whole Christmas thing and I didn’t get time off work this year for the holiday period so by the time NYE rolled around I wasn’t so keen on going out: maybe I’m just getting old, but the whole thing is pissing me off more and more every year. Then a friend asks if I want to help out with some some steampunk event doing lighting, serving food, videoing acts, etc, etc . . . free tickets and free booze . . . so in a frenzy of last minute effort I dolled myself up all proper-like and headed out into the night. Like Christmas, the occasion was kinda lost on me since a) I missed the count-down and b) I ended up too pissed to care but ehn, I had fun and avoided the obnoxious Melbourne crowds so it didn’t matter.
What else? Oh. That’s right. I have a dirty secret. I’m not proud of this, but I have to make a confession – I went and bought a new vacuum cleaner and I’m afraid I adore the damn thing. One of those fancy-pants Dyson things, bought half-price in one of those end of year specials, and let me tell you, after vacuuming a tiny square in my living room I’m freaking out over how much shit and dust and grit and what appears to be SAND there is in my carpet. Seriously, anyone who knows me knows I seldom care about housework but seeing all that crap in the little see-through bucket after vacuuming a metre-square section of carpet? Not nice. So yeah, I’m in half-arsed clean-up mode at the moment: half-arsed because I’m sleeping poorly and doing overtime at work so nothing’s actually getting finished (even if I am vacuuming everything that doesn’t move – you are safe for now, budgies!).
Not today, pal!
Last of all, after all that guff . . . I’ve put another story up. I hoped to get a few more extended over the holiday period but busy + sleep-deprived + social life = no writing. But although this one only got 3rd out of 4 in the comp it was in and after talking to Mum there seems to be some historical inaccuracies (and no doubt any Irish readers will be cringing at my attempt of the dialect), I really like it and think it’s one of my better stories this year. So enjoy:
Another Week Slips Away . . .
Do you ever wish you could just press pause and make everything stop for a while? I’m having one of those moments right now. These past few months have felt like everything’s on fast forward – no chance to stop and pause before running on to the next mountain to climb. Then when I do have time to spare – like today – I just end up bludging and doing nothing when there are still plenty of things I need to do. I’m still in my PJs and it’s nearly 6pm . . .
Well, I haven’t *entirely* been bludging. I caught up with all the posting and reading I had to do with the 30 days of Text (I’ll post my better entries on here soon), reorganised my Short Stories page to make it a little easier to browse, washed some dishes . . . and yeah, a lot of sleeping in. There probably would have been more sleeping in if it weren’t for my neighbour’s kid yelling upstairs, but I didn’t get out of bed before midday so that was alright.
I had some bad news this week – they’re jacking my rent up $90 a month. Just reading that letter I saw a bunch of things dissolve before my eyes: more bellydancing gear, CDs and books I’ve wanted, decent groceries rather than buying the no-name cheaparse stuff all the time . . . don’t get me wrong, some of that stuff is just as good as other things but other things like muesli and tinned beans are really horrible. *sigh* but when you compare the generic brand at $2.25 to next cheapest at $4.00 for a bag of muesli, you know which one you’re going to buy. Oh well, at least I’ve pretty much got the run of birthdays out of the way; there’s always a slight respite between now and when Christmas comes around . . . They say I can appeal against the decision and launch an investigation into the rent rise, but I looked at all the other one-bedroom flats around my area and surrounding suburbs for rent and they’re all $50 a week more than what they want me to pay so I’m worried that if they investigate it I’ll end up paying more again, and I really can’t afford to do that. Even crappy student accommodation is going for the rate I’m paying now, and that’s just obscene – and I thought things were bad when I was at uni!
On an unrelated note, I went to the football yesterday, for the second time in my life. I had managed to get through 24 years of my life before ever going to a game – having always rejected sport ideologically - but last year for Mothers’ Day the Crows were playing in Melbourne so Mum and my aunt decided that as die-hard fans, that was what they wanted to do. So this year for my sister’s birthday, she decided she wanted to go for her birthday and being the good older sister that I am, I went. And let me just say, I had NO IDEA what was going on. As long as lil’ sis pointed out in which direction our goals were, I did alright, and I even managed a “hey, kick it to that guy!” every now and again. I just went by the theory that if the Adelaide cheer squad started going nuts and cheering, the if Crows Grannies got on their feet waving their scarves (it seems a large proportion of Crows supporters are over the age of 65 and knit their own scarves, which is just adorable) and if Mum was smiling and clapping, it was a good thing (my Mum’s hilarious at the football, she gets really excited and cheers and whoops).
But still, there’s a sly little part of me that still loves to see a South Australian team kick the crap out of a Victorian team. Sure, I’ve lived in Melbourne more years of my life than any other place and out of all the cities in Australia I probably wouldn’t live anywhere else, but inside I’m still South Australian even if I have lost touch with the place. It really pisses me off when the foreign comedians come down here for the comedy festival and make Adelaide jokes . . . sure, they’re often true, but really, unless you’re from there you have no clue, you’re just parroting what others have told you to get some regional laughs and seem cool. Having had the piss taken out of me for the way I say things like “cloud”, “cicada” and “castle” all throughout school, I defend the right to enjoy a little one-up-manship every now and again 
But oh well, I probably ought to get out of my PJs and head to the laundromat – I can’t see myself getting another chance to wash my clothes during the week as it’s likely to be just as busy as the last few *sigh*
