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Week 12…..Day 2….Enthusiastic apathy…..yay for oxymorons…..

Tough choice......

Apathy – “lack of interest, enthusiasm, or concern”. This just happens to be my mood of the week (ok, slight under exaggeration…year!!). Go me!!!!! Lucky I don’t have to come up with anything inspiring in an online diary that is actually worth reading………….Just like every album has killers and fillers……..today’s post will be one of those fillers that you skip over in order to hear the good stuff. On that note, perhaps I should rename this blog “12 weeks of filling”…….

This looks like the handiwork of the apathetic......couldn't have done a better job myself......

Now, till the end of this journey, I would like to make a pledge that I will no longer mention my chronic sleeping issues, because this topic is way up there with conversations about the weather, petrol prices and how many times, some royal family member wore the same dress twice. I will also try very hard to not mention a particular sea creature that I’ve been having a very tumultuous relationship with. He has had far too much air time, and it’s not all about him!! He’s not turning 40 after all…….

Right, now that I’ve removed those 2 topics from my daily repertoire, I guess there’s nothing left to talk about…….Especially if you throw in my lack of interest, enthusiasm and concern………Time to cut and paste some riveting facts about the best way to shave 2 mins off your drive home from work, and the best toilet tissue that gives you more ply for your precious dollar…….Ok maybe not…..I still like to think of myself as somewhat humanitarian….

So today, is a very important one in terms of a little fair that pops into town for 10 days, providing a very important service. A public holiday. How incredible that we are granted a day off work to stuff ourselves with inordinate amounts of imitation (but somewhat delicious), food, throw it up on any ride that even slightly defies gravity (if the price doesn’t do this first…), purchase enough showbags containing sufficient crap, to entertain children for at least 15mins, before reaching it’s predestined landfill accommodation (unless it’s already been choked on…), throwing hundreds of dollars at oscillating clowns and moving targets, in order to win cheap overstuffed toy, that may or may not come apart at the seams before exiting showgrounds, and selling one organ from every family member to pay for the privilege of entering such an event. But hang on. We get a public holiday. Small mercies…..

I guess that takes care of what I didn’t do today then. I did learn 2 important pieces of information though, and prefer to keep my source of such facts classified. The first one was that men apparently don’t care about cellulite on women. Hmmmm, I’m not sure what to make of this. You mean it’s only us females that want to scream, cry, threaten self detonation, and attend to offending sights with machetes when we spot our own, or others’ rippling mounds? I have my doubts……

The second important fact I learnt, which ties in nicely with my anti aging journey (not necessarily going to plan), is that in order to reduce wrinkles, all I need to do is eat sunflower seeds. Why on earth did I not know this already? I guess I will now be seeing out the rest of my natural life hanging out in a sunflower field, chowing down on these seeds, and living it up with the birds. So what if they’re super high in calories and fat. They get rid of wrinkles!!! (I’m pretty sure wine, twisties and caramel ice-cream do too…..).

Ok, my apathy is starting to win here, and having a tv backdrop of someone’s nail bed being hacked into by over keen doctor, is not helping. I realise it is within my power to turn it off, but who doesn’t like to live on the edge a little……oh, and my lack of interest, enthusiasm and concern are preventing me. Perhaps after a good night’s ‘jig saw puzzle’ (code for that word I’m no longer mentioning), I will wake up with a newly inspired attitude………and a love of parallel parking….

Fi

Bring on 2012.......

Week 12…..Day 1……Oh Dear!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

1 more week......then bring on the compulsive lying......

WEEK 12………..and here it is. The home stretch to the magical day. 11 weeks of dress rehearsal, and 1 week to put it all together. A 12week journey not unlike planning an upcoming wedding with lots of time, thought and preparation, culminating in a missing groom. Of course this will not be the case, and my groom will no doubt show up first thing on the eventful day, armed with scalpel to remove a little more collagen, a chisel to chip away some of that healthy bone density, and a brand new matronly wardrobe……can’t wait….

Perhaps it’s not actually the 40th birthday that these atrocities take place. Maybe it’s actually the 41st or 47th for example. I could be fretting over nothing. But just in case, I’ve gone back into panic mode regarding anti aging panaceas. Having tried enough lotions and potions on the market to potentially open my own beauty counter, I think I can safely assume that for the most part, they are not going to eradicate a lifetime of fun in one supernatural lather and rinse. Nor are they going to provide enough moisture, that see my bones also cashing in on the extra suppleness. This is quite upsetting news, because I’ve seen and read the promises of these expensive bottles of false hope. Although, not one to be nit picky, but one particular product being featured regularly claims to ‘fight the toughest wrinkles’. Just because it’s going to battle with your creases, doesn’t mean it’s necessarily going to win…..Fighting the toughest kid in the class doesn’t always end in victory……just saying…..

Whilst trying to hold back the clock is one thing, a rather delightful term that could apply to any age group (thankfully it’s not discriminating), is the idea of letting one’s self go. I don’t know if another human’s description of you can get any worse than this. In essence, you have been entrusted with a house on arrival into the world, at various times throughout the years, more time and money is spent doing it up and maintaining it, sometimes it gets a really great makeover, and everyone around you is most complimentary, then for one reason or another, you decide to let some squatters move in, do whatever the hell they feel like doing to it, and ensure you will never be able to put it on the market again, unless some major renovation team intervenes.

I'm sure there's more than 4!!!!!

No doubt this affectionate term is not something that is planned out. I’m sure nobody wakes up one morning and decides, ‘You know what, I’m tired of my trim physique, glossy hair, dewy skin and healthy lifestyle, I think I may just gorge myself on pizza and doughnuts in bed for a while and watch every body part triple in size. I’ll finally get to strut around in those oversized stretchy tracksuits like I’ve always dreamed. Hopefully my hair will also take on that matted look I’ve always admired, and here’s to doing away with annoying skin care regimes. This is living.’ Even the very term ‘letting yourself go’, is rather obscure. Where on earth are we letting these bodies go to? Mortal purgatory? Carcass hell?

Ok, so today has been rather victorious because I have endeavoured to not let myself go, have indulged in oats for breakfast that may or may not have been inhabited with weevils (and here I was thinking my protein intake was low), and have found a very savvy solution to keeping warm. Closing the window! Who would have thought the many recent nights freezing in bed could have been quickly solved with one little tug of a glass plane, that had somehow decided being locked up for the entire winter was not to it’s liking. Never turn your back on inanimate objects….they are always plotting our demise…..

Having said that, there are some that I often feel sorry for, because it appears they drew the short straw when it came to their designated purpose on the earth…..

Toilet brushes- if reincarnation exists, and we come back as inanimate objects, just pray this isn’t your destiny. I see no joy in this gig at all. Waiting around for days/weeks/months (depending on cleanliness of host), on an uncomfortable stand, for that dreaded moment when your services are required. Just hope your place of duty is not a public setting, Indian restaurant, or lactose intolerant family who’ve decided that ice cream is well worth the consequences…

Cotton tips- spending a good deal of your time shoved in ear canals may sound like fun, but I’m guessing it gets old. I realise there are a million other uses for these little treasures, but being shoved into orifices seem to be their claim to fame, and one which they excel at. What else is the right size to be used for such important tasks…..besides pencils, knitting needles and toothpicks?….

Draino- fancy having your entire existence based on being poured down people’s sinks to undo the clogged mess they have so indiscriminately created. How awful and demeaning. Not to mention a very short lifespan. Draino and butterflies have something in common…

Vacuum cleaners- sucking up all manner of horrific matter from any given surface, being dragged around like a belligerent toddler, annoying people with your high pitched sounds, and being reprimanded for accidently ingesting precious items, sounds really cruel. I will be sure to give mine some TLC…….after I’ve begrudgingly changed it’s hideous overfilled bag which makes me gag….

Right, enough of feeling sorry for stuff…….because in a week’s time, the shoe might be on the other foot….

Fi

Week 11…..Day 7…..Never too sick for school……….

Learning rocks.......

I really think I know what having my head stuffed with sticky rice, eyes dipped in retina singeing fondue, whilst simultaneously being dragged behind a speeding car (driven by chimpanzees no doubt…..), feels like. I now have empathy for all those suffering such travesties. It really sucks. Boasting about my exceptional immune system, and inability for most germs to want to hang out with me, in previous posts, I’m now eating those bacterial filled words, and am spending some quality time with critters that haven’t even introduced themselves…….manners……

In order to try and remedy the excessive sleepiness, yet inability to actually indulge in this luxury, I have today therefore, become a self appointed tv critic. Unfortunately, the anticipated results were not attained and I am now even more weary…. but that much more educated. Who needs school?? Everything you need to know about the world is sitting in your living room, and it’s all true!!! Just like the internet…….

So……at school today (which incidentally begins at 1am….it’s a very progressive school), here is what I learnt…..

*Some humans go into battle with other humans, whilst some have it out with food. Yep, no gi-normous cheeseburger or hot dog is safe when these very special humans are around. And what talented beings they must be. The ability to devour 50kg of minced cow, cheese and dough really does make you feel proud to belong to such a species…..improving our existence, once gagging mouthful at a time…..

*Now if that’s not enough to make you want to fly the human flag even higher, how about shows boasting such titles as “Young, dumb, living off mum’ and Pimp my ride’. The great thing about these 2 shows, is that no explanation is necessary. The names really do say it all. And if there indeed is life on other planets, let’s hope they have caught a glimpse of these delights (via the internet no doubt..), and have decided against immigrating……overpopulation is already a problem after all….

*The best way to make a blind date even more awkward, is to throw a camera crew into the equation, with lots of close ups and preferably dramatic narration. Forget tuning into footage of live amputations for cringe worthy viewing, this is bound to win the coveted title….

*Depending on which cereal I choose every morning, I have the potential to morph into a very strong ironman, or look hot in a short red dress. Not sure what would happen if I alternated between the two……..I hate decisions….

*Cleaning paraphernalia is something to get very excited over, and should always be utilised with an accompanying smile. A clean house makes for a happy family. I guess this little gem could put an end to dysfunctional sad families everywhere….

*It is obviously a prerequisite for any person in customer service to be overly helpful, friendly, efficient and extremely well groomed. This of course is completely accurate, and I have yet to be proven wrong…..and this could very well be the most ridiculous thing I’ve written to date, which is a very big call……

*Forget the Dalai Lama, and self help books, the secret to joy and happiness is anything edible sold in buckets, can be upsized, eradicates cooking skills or provides all daily energy requirements in one sitting. The sheer enjoyment observed by those partaking in such promises is proof enough. Nutrition must therefore equate to sadness….

The joy has obviously now been robbed from this menu choice....

*Catching a pesky little cold, makes ones look more hideous than a head on collision, yet necessitates more medication, nursing and social isolation than the bubonic plague. This is particularly the case for one gender more than the other…will keep them anonymous….

Ok, I think that’s enough learning for an already beaten up brain. Obviously, everything happens for a reason, and my inability to do much else today has in turn resulted in more knowledge than I know what to do with.  I guess at the end of these 12 weeks, I will be more learned and wiser after all……

A summary of today: can’t sleep, overtired, no energy, learn from tv, spill peas everywhere, find half the peas, expect to find other half next year, envy sleeping cats on internet, learn from tv, cranky, bored, wonder if there’s anything cheese doesn’t go with, write schlock…….

…..and only one more week of such schlock……tomorrow begins week 12!!!!…deep breaths……

Fi

Week 11…..Day 6…..A camel let my tyres down……how adorable…….

Today’s post threatens to be sooo positive and uplifting, I’m sure being featured in a Jehovah’s Witness pamphlet, would not be out of the question. Will therefore refrain from using profanities etc….this could very well be my next career path after all. Now since I’m writing with potential pamphlet in mind, I am also going to need to keep it short, and what a coincidence, I have very little to say, so how fortuitous.

Despite waking up today feeling like a discarded bandaid (without the mangey germs of course), and less energy and motivation than I can ever recall, I have stuck to some (better than none), of my oh so optimistic self promises for the week. Unfortunately, being a member of the bandaid family has stuck around all day, and the desire to slither into bed and give sleeping beauty a run for her money, has been way too tempting. But no…..temptation I’ve resisted, and have just avoided making eye contact with the seductive crisp sheets, plump inviting pillows and voluminous soft doona. Translation: have avoided looking in direction of unmade bed of crinkled sheets, flattened pillows and scratchy doona cover that is harbouring most of it’s contents in the bottom half (is this why I end up half way down the bed every night?). It’s still been tempting nevertheless…..

In order to try and lift my spirits as a diversion from this most inconvenient lethargy, I have indulged in something that is always a great distraction, and is sure to make even Hitler smile (ok, probably not…). Animals. What a delightful addition to our time on the planet. How can so much cuteness be contained in these little beings? And how come they can get away with things that we can’t?

Examples……

You’re driving along the highway minding your own business. Some idiot in car behind starts tailgating, and smacking into your bumper bar. Idiot drives up alongside you and hurls egg through your window. You are livid. You manage to get look at idiot driver. It’s a chimpanzee. You smile. How cute.

You’re at the movies. You can’t hear movie through the incessant loud chewing and slurping of patron behind you. You consider the many different ways you will shove foodstuffs through offender’s skull. You finally get up courage to do so. It’s a polar beer. You smile. How cute.

It’s 3am, You are awoken by neighbouring loud music. It continues to get louder. Your earplugs are even redundant. You do the pissed (will have to change this word for pamphlet I guess…) off shuffle in your pyjamas en route to their front door. A family of lions have moved in. Leo answers the door and invites you in for some meat and a dance. You smile. How cute.

You go out to dinner. Food finally arrives tasting like sewage. You are incensed. You demand to speak to the chef. Unfortunately the baby elephant that cooked your meal has already gone home for the evening. You smile. How cute.

And here’s more proof…..

Human that overeats.........Not cute.....

Animal that overeats......Cute......

And…….

Awkward human family photo.........weird

Awkward animal family photo........cute

And……

Human couch potato........no words........

Animal couch potato.........cute........

And…….

Human..post big night out.........self respect:0

Animal...post big night out......cute.....

I think if this was a research paper, I have well and truly gathered the evidence and proven my point……..ANIMALS RULE and sometimes humans can be really gross……….

Ok, this has probably now exceeded pamphlet (and intelligence) limit, so will graciously wrap up and start making eye contact with lonely bed again……and hope that anyone reading tonight’s post will imagine it was written by a very tired dolphin……

Fi

Week 11….Day 5……Extreme lack of titillation ahead……

I have a terrible confession….I have been a very bad steward of this weekend. I have not given it the attention that it deserves, nor taken advantage of all the enjoyment one is meant to suck out of the 2 days of promise. I do sincerely endeavour to do a better job next weekend however, and feel like I’ve really let the enjoyment team down. Thank goodness there are only 5 days standing in our way….although, Friday doesn’t really count, because this is the weekend’s entree…….and sometimes even the star of the show….

Right, because there are now only 10 days left till I start lying about my age, and disposing of any garments remotely skimming my body, (hello elastic and voluminous fabric..), I have set myself a very strict plan for the coming week (yes, this will be different to previous attempts, and of course I will adhere to it you cynics…), and anticipate that in 7 days time, I will be most pleased with myself, glad that I publicised it, and ready to brag about the results in an underground newspaper that I don’t wish to advertise. Bring on the week……

So what does one do when they completely annihilate a weekend?? Well, obviously sleep is way up there (obviously not when the rest of the nation is doing so though…). Then there’s the whole interwebz……I think I may have nearly finished reading everything on there. Oh, and the grand plan making, for the enterprising week ahead. This in itself is hours of confusion, doubt, excitement, doubt, fear, doubt…….most exhausting. I do sooo love lists though…….all that optimistic potential…I’m clearly easily pleased….

Now, all of this doesn’t come without some much unnecessary brain activity, steering me in the direction of useless town of course. And today’s word kiddies, is ‘extreme’. Anything prefaced with this adorable adjective really has a lot to live up to. For those of us not so fussed on moderation or the colour grey, I guess this word is more exciting than the beautiful unison between termite and timber. It implies sooo much, and could even come across as dangerous….look out!!

Extreme, “reaching a high, or the highest degree”. Some smart git on the internet

Extreme makeover: whether it be house or self, you know the end result will be nothing like the beginning. In fact, there may be nothing recognisable at all. The house may have been 3 bedroom, 1 storey, and cosy. Hello, 5 storey, 17 bedroom eyesore from hell…….is there nothing money can’t do?? So what if you were born with shy cheekbones, chicken lips, and buttocks that prefer to hang out with your thighs? Dr extreme saddist here, will have you emulating that blow up doll in record speed.

Extreme sports: forget the boring regular activities that are still in with a chance of dislocating every joint at the very first sighting of oncoming team member, why not take it to the next level? How much more fun to tempt this fate whilst also adding an extra danger element just for kicks and giggles? Kicking around a ball on a lovely grassy field…boring. Kicking around a ball on top of an erupting volcano, nude…….now we’re talking…..throw in a bottle of vodka and a ravenous tiger shark (forget logistics…..), and you will no longer be caring about pesky little injuries from overzealous team member. You and adrenalin will be living the dream!!!

Extreme hobbies: this sounds threatening and ridiculous all at the same time. If I’m to take scrapbooking or knitting or stamp collecting to the highest degree…….watch out world!!! If you thought you saw amazing knitted booties at the local show, or the perfect fondant icing on prized fruit cake, you haven’t seen the extreme versions. There’s a secret handshake to view these treasures……

Extreme stupidity: this just happens to be quite widespread, and without necessary explanation. I’m thinking the only difference between regular stupidity (which is still up there in it’s own right), and extreme stupidity……is technology……..Thank goodness we now get to witness such atrocities from the comfort of our own lounge rooms…….oh internet, why did you take so long to come into our lives? A life before fellow humans documenting their nightly dinner, viruses that only make you sick from pure annoyance, and the ability to watch any random fool catapult off high rise building donned in whipped cream, seems like a life without oxygen.

Extreme everything else: crime (didn’t realise there were moderate versions of this….but that’s just me….), planking (no comment necessary), fishing (whatever), hairstyles (have seen a lot of these, not excluding my own via photo albums….), fun (I think I could possibly embrace this one…), laziness (could probably embrace this one also…), talent (hmmm, rather subjective, and usually wrong…..ok, that is also probably subjective….), living (what the hell does this even mean??).

Right, point made, whenever anything in life starts to become a tad uninteresting, just stick the word ‘extreme’ in front of it, and you will have gained the ‘wow’ factor (even if it’s ‘wow, what an idiot’). You will sound far more adventurous, exciting, and the rest of the world (or your friends..), will think you are really living it!!

So today, I did some extreme sleeping and interneting!! Yep, I live on the edge!!!

Now, because it’s the weekend (even if I was the crap host…), there is an unspoken rule in the universe that these particular dinners are allowed to be nutritionally unacceptable (I can get scientific evidence if needed……from a very reputable lab conveniently located under my house…). Not wanting to go against universal laws, I assumed nuking a little bag of popcorn for this lovely meal would not only save me time, but provide an enjoyable end to the delightful weekend. I guess I assumed wrong, and should realise, that microwave instructions exist for a reason. Who would of thought an extra minute in microwave land, is like spending 5 more hours in tanning bed…….carcinogenic popcorn tastes like shit!!! Just saying….but I still made a go of it……..budget budget budget…..

Carcinogenic popcorn....more delicious than it looks.....ok, that's crap........

Here’s to an extreme Monday…….(whatever that is…)

Fi

Week 11…..Day 4…..Great expectations….Great amounts of pressure……

Damn you Disney!!!!!!!!

“It’s better to burn out than to fade away”. Neil Young, then re quoted by Kurt Cobain in his infamous suicide note. Again, using other people’s wise words, and pondering the significance and brilliance. Is this true? Is it better to achieve amazing stuff on the planet (inventing supa glue is a very grand example of such amazingness…), and then follow this up with less fabulous inventions such as fake “I’ve been rolling in Doritos” tan??? Does this really make you only as good as your last act? Are you better to quit while you’re ahead and leave a legacy of greatness?? Who the hell knows?? I don’t even know why I’m pondering this question, I don’t think I will ever have to worry about being in such a predicament………but it allowed me to quote people, and divert from other stuff…….I think this may very well be my hidden talent………

I guess this does lead to my thought of the day however…..expectations. Whether you’re the gifted artist that shines so brightly, you can barely stand your own company, or the johnny come lately (usually some 12yr old with braces and over excited parents with too much access to You Tube no doubt), is it better t0 try and live up to unrealistic expectations, or slowly reveal your inability to do so…….because who really cares if you can’t cycle up Kilimanjaro in flippers and 3D goggles?? Nobody else has these expectations for you (ok, not entirely true, I’m sure if I google this, there will be a whole website/forum dedicated to the cause). Where on earth do these expectations come from??

If I’m to delve a little deeper into this whole expectation fun, I guess I can understand why it may be better to just burn out…..who doesn’t enjoy going out with a bang?? If it’s good enough for New Years Eve…then I’m in…..

Expectations expectations, too many expectations!!!!!

1. Get up before sunset. Some of us don’t want to!! (ok, some of us have trouble….). I can be just as productive in the lady of the night hours, and I don’t need to look acceptable to do so. Piss off sun, I enjoy the moon’s company…….so shoot me…

2. Get a boring job, sensible superannuation, and 9-5 work ethic. Nooooooooooooooooo, there has to be more to life than this?? Surely we could start a revolution and overturn such dogma? Even if it just results in a non sensible superannuation (whatever that is..), it’s a start. Wiling away the best hours/years of your life in boringsville, in anticipation of some grand reprieve at the end, sounds rather crazy to me……perhaps I’m just crazy though……there are worst things….

3. Acquire house, car, 2.5 kids, stability……and live the dream. Not sure who’s dream, but not all of us have it. Nightmare/dream…….fine line for those of us who don’t care about such existences (and let me qualify this statement, before I lose all my friends, that I don’t care for such things….but am congnisant that others do……this is just my dreary blog remember….).

4. Hoping friends still talk to you after reading your blog…..

5. Abusing body and not anticipating retaliation. This is just a pipe dream, and one I’m still not learning from. I’ve clearly also abused part of brain that recognises there is always a cause and effect thingy going on. I guess when I’m lining up for brain botox at the local health expo, I may get that necessary revelation. I’m a quick learner.

Right, done with the whole expectation spiel………….too many expectations to make it interesting and insightful. So, no lies, I’m YET AGAIN not winning productive member of the day award, and am pretty sure my coffee table has a lot more motivation. Why is there no pill on the market that will give me this coveted trait (without having to grow 7 more heads, and complimentary necks??……so much for evolution….). Instead, I continue to adapt to my unsatisfactory existence, in anticipation of that day when I jump out of bed (I’m yet to see anyone master this by the way…), and embrace everything I abhor, avoid, deny and pretend doesn’t pertain to me……….I’m sensing an expiry date any day soon……….

Oh my, I never thought I’d say this…but……hurry up 40th birthday…..then I can stop writing such drivel…..

Fi

Week 11….Day 3….Hello, my name is ‘excuse me’………..

So, in a couple of days time, I have the opportunity to no longer exist. Don’t panic, I’m not on death row for causing the extinction of tuna, or about to pre celebrate looming birthday with cyanide infused mojitos…..nope, it’s Census night, and I could be that one person that stuffs up the whole thing! Yes, singlehandedly, I could screw up Australia’s results by pretending to not exist…or better still, create a whole other identity living it up in fantasy land. I’m liking the name Verminous Shittaker (very pretty). Ok, don’t fret, I will do the right thing in order to keep our nation on track………Australian of the year nominations must be coming up soon……….

Without wanting to rehash an old and hackneyed theme, but will anyway, I am once again at loggerheads with resting my crazy/weary little head in vampire hours, and am instead slumbering my way through the best time to catch the sun’s cancerous rays. This is most irritating, not to mention dis0rienting, when sucking down lumpy porridge at 3pm. And there can only be one word to describe the endless dark hours spent imitating an abandoned piece of timber……..BORING!!! What on earth can one do at 2am that isn’t noisy, expensive, too stimulating, or requires other human beings??….besides tv and online stalking of course………Unfortunately, the whole timber impersonation seems to prevail every time…..2 till 7am are really dull hours….just putting it out there……

Ok, so not all is lost entertaining the same hours as bats and serial killers, I get extra quiet hours to think. Yes, because my brain needs more things to dwell on, that distract it from it’s real purpose…… benefiting my well being. He checked out of this mission years ago (it really is a pity that there are no refunds on this body part…). Now whilst I had a million different thoughts (most of them, all at the same time), one that stood out from all the others was the idea of name tags. Ground breaking, I know….I’m always tempted to thank ‘Ronald’, as he scans my groceries, or ask for ‘Julia’s’ assistance when picking out my new ouija boards, and thankfully, their little name tags, allow me to do so.

But what about the average person strolling down the street that suddenly drops something??? We can’t all answer to the name ‘excuse me’. If only we ALL wore name tags. How much more delightful is ‘hey Falobias (hopefully this isn’t his real name), I think that package of white powder fell out of your bag’. This eliminates all confusion as to who’s being addressed, and also adds a rather nice personal touch in my opinion. Then there’s the morning exercisers who always greet each other on passing (this by the way is only a morning phenomenon, past 8am, it’s time to revert back to ignoring fellow fitness enthusiasts, and pretend to look at something far more interesting in the distance). How much nicer to jog past fellow early morning nut, and use their name like a well worn sports bra. ‘Morning Horatio’……..soo much more personal than ‘morning’ (which could mean anything really…).  Then there’s that whole catching criminals thing. If the dude in a balaclava holding up the local Hungry Jacks (hang on, bad example, who on earth would venture into one of those???), or library (another bad example), or any place that bad dudes like to hold up, was also sporting a lovely name tag, I’m thinking this has got to be a win win situation. He/she gets caught:win. His/her name is spelt correctly on the 6pm news:win. Why am I not involved in running the country??

Besides thinking up the logistics of how every Australian can be donning a name tag by the year’s end, a little dabble in exercise (all moderate like), watching someone on tv supposedly lose 10 years in 10 days (I fortunately know where the missing 10 years went…..mr camera man stole them in his soft focus lens), and feeling the pain of facebook’s humanitarian plight to “help a friend”, when new recruit has only a handful of people to stalk, and it is left up to us to suggest some friends for them. Sooo much pressure. Thank goodness I’m not entrusted with this responsibility every time someone in the real world has elected hermit status. This in itself is a full time job. I’ve been very busy researching top secret stuff (yeah, nobody’s going to believe that, including me..), for a business idea I’ve been procrastinating over for 1000 years (I confess, this is a 12wk journey to my 1040th birthday..) I think i may be all googled out!!!!

Anyway, it’s Friday night, the best night of the week (should probably win an award..), and one that holds sooooo much potential, and is then usually wasted. But it doesn’t matter, there’s another one coming next week. Reliable, potential……sounds like the perfect partner……

Fi

Practical AND aesthetic........