For Healthy Teeth and Bones.

Reason why I love Jason, #782.

Aly: [picks up ringing mobile phone] Hello?
Jason: Want some dog food?
Aly: [blank pause] Meh?
Jason: Would you like some dog food?
Aly: [trying to think of appropriate response] Wha?
Jason: Look, do you want some dog food or not?
Aly: [gives up] Er, sure.
Jason: Right. Bye.

Needless to say, I was well and truly puzzled by this point.

It turns out there a dog food company was holding a promotional giveaway at his work. He ended up signing up for it to get the freebie for us, despite the fact that he doesn't own a dog himself. Bless!

(He did later mention, quite bravely if you ask me, that they were also giving away chocolate for human consumption, but I wasn't asked if I wanted any of that, was I?)

Anyhoo, my dear boy turned up on the doorstep last night holding a (ha!) doggy bag, complete with the phrase, "I've brought dinner!"

Oh, he's a catch alright.

All About Me - The Revised Edition.

The fact that it's practically May already is something that scares the absolute pants off me. It's been said a thousand times before, but the year! It's going too fast! This year it freaks me out a heck of a lot more than usual though, there are too many things happening and I'd like time to slow the heck down, please.

That being said, I was flicking back through some old posts of note and realised that my 100 Things page looked awfully out of date, even though it was only written a few months ago. Therefore, in an effort to take my mind off the fact that I've been crying like a girl every fifteen minutes or so for no apparent reason, now is as good a day as any to introduce the re-vamped All About Me section.

Without further ado, I present the brand spanking new 100 Things.

(Author's note: Er, due to laziness, some of the points may read the exact same thing that they read in the earlier version.)

(Author's note #2: It was late when I re-wrote the post, so if the numbers are muddled up? Just pretend they make perfect sense.)

(Author's note #3: I probably shouldn't have mentioned spanking, eh?)

Pretty Darned Forgettable.

Since being given the a-okay to have the Laser Eye Surgery performed, it's been one of those things I just can't get off my mind.

Those poor folks at work who happened to ask me whether I did anything exciting in my break, I bet they never expected a step by step rundown of my visit into the city to have my initial eye consultiation. I've been asking all sorts of people for information and things to expect, and I've spent countless hours searching the internet for 'survivor' stories and reviews. (Probably not the smartest idea, since I'm already a wee bit nervous about the procedure and it's still a bloody fortnight away.)

As a brief background, let me just remind you that I rarely wear my glasses. I'm a contacts girl, through and through. The only time you'll find me wearing glasses is if I'm in the middle of a prescription and haven't had time to fill it yet, if I have a sty or other infection that the contacts bother, if I'm flying and the ventilation is horrible, or if I have an appointment to have Laser Eye consultations. Suffice it to say that 99% of the time, I am glasses-free.

The last week of Term 1, and this first week back of Term 2, are pretty much the only times I have worn my glasses to school for an extended period of time. The kidlets pick things up quickly and found my new glasses fascinating; and I always respond to the question "Why do you wear glasses now?" with the answer "All the better to see you with, my dear!" (Never fails to set the younger kidlets into giggles, thank goodness they know their fairytales.)

Some colleagues however? Are perhaps not so visually astute.

One person, after being given my excited spiel on the Laser Eye surgery was very polite and sounded genuinely interested in the procedure. Feeling chuffed, I continued the conversation without hesitation, happy to keep on discussing it. Until they exclaimed; "So glasses-free huh? You'll be like a whole new person without having to wear your glasses all the time, how exciting!"

Er. Let's just freeze there. It's true, I like the idea of being a new, all-seeing human being if the procedure all goes smoothly. But wearing my glasses all the time, what? I've worn my contact lenses to school practically every day for the last year and a half, and this person has never once noticed that? Ouch!

Repeat it with me now: I will not be offended. I will not be offended.

Oh, screw it. I am offended. Now excuse me, while I sulk just a little.

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????<?p?>?A?n?d? ?l?a?s?t?l?y?,? ?a? ?b?i?g? ?t?h?a?n?k?y?o?u? ?t?o? ?a?l?l? ?w?h?o? ?h?a?v?e? ?s?e?n?t? ?s?w?e?e?t? ?m?e?s?s?a?g?e?s? ?o?v?e?r? ?B?e?l?l?a?.? ?e& ?I?'?l?l? ?b?e? ?s?p?e?n?d?i?n?g? ?t?o?d?a?y? ?g?i?v?i?n?g? ?L?u?c?y? ?l?o?t?s? ?o?f? ?e?x?t?r?a? ?s?q?u?i?s?h?e?s?.?<?/?p?>?
?-?-?-?-?-?
?E?X?T?E?N?D?E?D? ?B?O?D?Y?:?
?
?-?-?-?-?-?
?E?X?C?E?R?P?T?:?
?
?-?-?-?-?-?
?K?E?Y?W?O?R?D?S?:?
?
?-?-?-?-?-?
?C?O?M?M?E?N?T?:?
?A?U?T?H?O?R?:? ?J?u?l?i?e?
?E?M?A?I?L?:? ?j?u?l?i?e?h?e?r?s?h?@?g?m?a?i?l?.?c?o?m?
?I?P: 18.142.1.246
URL: http://juliezilla.blogspot.com
DATE: 04/28/2007 06:36:10 AM
People are idiots.
It's that simple :)

I'll Be Missing You.

I had Bella Rabbit put in for surgery this morning.

Even though I had declared that I would persevere with medicine and see how she went, my heart just broke when I went out this morning and her eye was swollen shut due to the facial swelling. We got the phone call at lunch time; things weren't good. Bella had a severe jaw infection that was basically inoperable, they took x-rays and still couldn't figure out the actual cause of it. Her jaw was practically destroyed by the swelling. There was nothing he could do.

The vet gave me the option of taking her home, or having her put to sleep. I think you can guess what I chose. My heart is broken.

Rest in peace, my Bella Rabbit. I miss you so, so much already.

[Insert Superhero Noise Here.]

I'm about to mention a not-very-important piece of information that has pleased me to no end, but is taken from the latest episode of 24. Even though it's not particularly crucial to the overall plot or anything, I thought I'd better throw the warning out there. See? Am nice!

What am I rambling on about? Why, Jack's handy satchel is back! When he ran towards the abandoned motel with his satchel fit snugly around his neck, all was right with the world. Jack without his satchel is like Superman without a cape. All hail the Jack-Sack!

Okay, that was it. Really.

But before I go, won't someone please just kill her off already? I've been wishing she would disappear since last season because of how annoying she was, and now this? Am disappointed, 24 powers-that-be. Very disappointed. (And sticking with the whole nice vibe, I'm not mentioning who I'm talking about, but you television dorks out there should know who she is, right?)

Step, Stomp, Scuff, Splat.

I think I've mentioned that I've started heading off to line dancing once a week on just a few occasions before. I can't say that I was very enthusiastic about going at first; I really don't even like much country music. But I decided to go for the fitness factor; mum gained herself some pretty impressive calf muscles after she started going. The first week back this year, I was close to piking out, but I ended up sticking with it. (I may or may not have been bribed with dinner out at the club that night, but I'm I'll never tell.)

Now that my self conscious brain has gotten over the whole 'I'm dancing in public without any fuzzy, alcohol-induced beverages involved, oh shit' factor and since I actually have a couple of dances under my belt, I feel much better about it now. I'm even attempting to do the little twirls that everyone else can do so beautifully. (This too is pretty impressive, coming from the girl who used to triumphantly turn to the next wall of the dance and keep on dancing, without realising that everyone else was facing the opposite wall.)

Now if only I could stop forgetting the dances as soon as I've done them! This line dancing business is something that would be so much fun to do with a bunch of mates. I'd recommend going with someone who is a worse dancer than you, because I am evil and find that makes me much more comfortable. Just ask mum, I'm sure that's why she brings me along. (Let's face it, I'm a terrible dancer.)

After all, what can be better than learning a dance choreographed to 'Who Let the Dogs Out?' Hilarious, but bloody fantastic all the same.

A Letter for my Baby Brother.

To dear Ajay,

I'm writing this letter to you on your birthday, April 23rd 2007. Today, my ickle baby brother, you are twenty years old. Seeing as I'm presently two years your senior, I'm feeling rather old myself. I can't even imagine what our mother is thinking.. wait! Actually, I can. I'll bet she's thinking something along the lines of.. "My baby! He's all grown up! Where have the years gone? Where is my sweet red-headed little baby?" These nostalgic thoughts are most likely being followed by.. "I wonder when he'll be moving out, I'd like to extend my scrapbooking room." Don't worry, I'm sure she's just kidding when she says that. (Sort of. Maybe. I hope.)

We've had a fairly tumultuous relationship, you and I. Not always in a positive light, either. You may or may not know that I've been jealous of you since the moment you were born. You recall our baby pictures, which have sat side by side on the cupboard downstairs for years? I've always envied yours. You posed all snuggled up in your baby blue blanket, eyes closed, sleeping peacefully and looking very angelic. I, on the other hand, glared out from my pink blanket with a red face and a death stare. Perhaps it was the sign of things to come?

I wish I remember more about us when we were kidlets. When I look through mums scrapbooking albums, I mainly get distracted by the fact that we were both so darned cute back then! My favourite photos are the ones of you as a wee baby, where I'm either standing next to you staring wide-eyed, or generally just being nosey and checking you out. Did mum ever tell you that she declared you an ugly baby? It's true! (Don't believe what she tells you now, it's just because you're bigger than her.) I never thought that though, and I still claim that you were a much cuter baby than I was.

You were the typical annoying little brother through school. You drove me absolutely batty at the best of times, always doing typical Ajay things that I would hate and that our parents would find endlessly amusing. How many times did you get me into trouble, pleading innocence the whole time? How many times did I end up grounded while you walked around giggling. (Brat!) I would get so frustrated by you and I'll admit it, sometimes I still do. Your ability to make me snap is award winning and rarely fails. I should know better.

When you were in high school I worried about you alot. I didn't like your friends, and I didn't like any of your girlfriends either. What can I say now, other than a) I was right about them and b) I'm your big sister, I'm allowed to hate them. When you left school before finishing, I wondered what the future would bring you. You looked after yourself though and the day you announced you were going back to school to finish your HSC I was so, so proud of you. You have no idea. I don't know that I would have been strong enough to go back, but you did. I'm also impressed that you found yourself a girlfriend that I actually like, so treat her well and be smart, alright?

In the last year, you have grown up a lot. You're funny, you're smart, and you've mellowed out, for lack of a better expression. Jase and I have talked about how different you are for the majority of the time, how you're turning into the only slightly annoying kind of brother that I have hoped for for a long time now. Someone who I can spend time with growing up when we each start our new lives, someone who I can ask for advice. As irritating as we are towards one another, I really hope you feel the same about me one day. It's sappy, but true.

So it's your birthday, and you're not the little boy I keep talking about anymore. Not that you aren't still annoying though, you know how to push my buttons better than anyone else I can think of. We've screamed at each other, we've had our shoving matches, we've become good at ignoring one another for days on end. (Bloody hell, as I type this, you just came into my room and stirred shit again, nothing changes eh?) I think we've shared more with each other lately; but don't think I'll forget about all those times I made you promise to keep your mouth shut, and you later blabbed! Slacker!

In conclusion? Although I like you much better as a brunette than as a blonde, I wish you'd let your beautiful ginger hair grow back. Oh, and one more thing? Quit shaving your arms, the sooner the better. One day you'll look back and wonder why you started in the first place. Trust me. I'm your sister. I know these things.

And Ajay? When I move to England, I'm really going to miss you.

Happy birthday, baby brother. I love you lots! [squishes cheeks]

These Boots Were Made For Walking.

I generally make it a habit not to talk about exercising or weight loss on this blog, purely for the fact that when I'm trying to be good? It's all I talk about. And I have to admit, my writing about that is not pretty to read; if you thought my whinging here was bad, phwoar. Instead, I ramble about that elsewhere, consider me sparing you!

But I will give you a really fast rundown to fill you in - I've been making a more dedicated effort to lose some weight over the last month or so. Not strictly dieting persay, just trying to cut out the crap and be smarter. Oh, and move my arse more. That's a big one. (The statement and the arse.)

I use this website to record any exercising I do, called "Get Fit on Route 66" - My slightly obsessed mum discovered it. Basically, it's a cheesy tracker, where 1 minute of exercise equals 1 mile on the Route from Chicago to California. It even lets you choose what car you drive, I'm driving an old Chevy truck.

Since March 12th, I've walked 1223 miles. Okay, so not really, but I have exercised for that many minutes. That's over 20 hours of exercise! I'm in Texas right now, soon to get into New Mexico.

Am very, very proud. Celebrations are in order when I get to Cali!

Adieu, Adieu.

I haven't mentioned the bunny dramas of the past week, as I've been persevering with getting them to love each other. Alright, really I would have been happy with them just not hating each other, but I wasn't going to start getting fussy about it.

New Bun is beautiful on her own and loves cuddles, but just doesn't like the other rabbits. Bella and Lucy have started getting really grouchy (with her and me) and things aren't going smoothly at all. I've had them cage by cage all week to get used to one another, and have been introducing them together in small intervals.

I realised things just weren't happening when there was a three-way rabbit hatefest around the dining room floor; teeth gnashing, bunny grunting, floor sliding hate. After a while, I couldn't see which rabbit was the culprit; it was all of them. It was whilst sweeping up the tufts of fur from the floor that I decided things just weren't working.

It's with great sadness that today I'm going for a drive to give New Bun to her new momma. She's going to a place where she'll be the head bun, meaning she'll be loving all the attention. I will miss snorgling her cute furryness, but I know it's for the best.

Farewell, New Bun. I'll be sending celery and carrot wishes your way.

It's Done!

My laser surgery has been booked!

Friday 11th May @ 11am. Dad is going to drive me in and take me home, I'll spend the weekend at home all zombie-like, and Jase is taking me back in the following Monday for my first post-op checkup. It's all very exciting. Nervewracking, but exciting.

I forgot to mention, I'm not having Lasik done. The clinic I'm going to uses Advanced Surface Laser; otherwise known as Lasek. The procedures are virtually the same, though while Lasik cuts a flap in the cornea, Lasek removes the first layer of the cornea. The laser work performed in each technique is the same.

So exactly three weeks from today, I'll be having my eyeballs zapped. And hopefully once the healing settles down later that week, I'll be able to wake up in the morning and see! I wonder if Jase will look any different in the mornings once I have better vision, mwahaha. (Kidding, of course, I happen to think he looks just lovely!)

In the meantime, make sure you pay a visit to Zandria who is also having her eyes done very soon. Best of luck, chicka!

Spill the Beans.

As my motivation levels have fallen below zero in this last week of holidays, I'm taking the opportunity to take the easy way out of blogging.  Today, it's time to start fessin' up! I'm inviting each and every one of you to share a smidgen of yourself on your blog, that most of us wouldn't have known previously. It could be as serious as your deepest, darkest secrets, or it could be as trivial as something embarrassing or entertaining about yourself. Totally up to you.

Not to be a party pooper, I intend to share some with you as well. It wouldn't be fair otherwise, would it? Be nice, I'm being brave.

~ I deliberately don't answer my mobile phone if a person I don't feel like talking to is calling me. And I have been known to lie about not having any phone credit, just so I don't have to message people back.

~ I still play this site. Because I am a dork like that. C'mon. Surely you used it yourself at some point in your internet addiction. You did, right? Er, right?

~ When people win blogging awards, I get jealous. [hangs head]

~ I'm nervous being in new social situations, but I'm good at pretending to be comfortable even when I am hyperventilating inside. Even if I look calm, rest assured I've most likely spent the entire journey to the event freaking the fuck out.

~ I'm guilty of being too lazy on some occasions to brush my teeth before I fall into bed.

~ I've once steamed vegetables without adding any water to the pot.

~ I am slightly obsessive-compulsive when it comes to opening my Outlook Express. What? I like getting emails.

~ I'm bitter, and hold grudges against people for all sorts of things. Most people don't even realise I'm cranky with them, I'm so fickle.

~ I claim to love scary movies, but when I'm frightened I put my fingers in my ears and close my eyes. Even at the movies. Yep.

Want to play? Let me know if you're up for the challenge, and I'll be sure to stalk your blog head on over and be nosey. Alternatively, post yours in the comments if you're feeling shy.

I Spy ...

After a long-awaited, er, wait and much, much stress, I awoke today ready to head into the city for my initial laser eye surgery consultation. Why was I stressing, you ask? Well. The appointment was in Manly, which is north of Sydney. I live a fair way away from there. I drive, so that's not so bad, no? Except that it's one heck of a drive and I? I am not the calmest driver at the best of times.

Luckily for me, I convinced a workmate to come along for the drive. She had two roles; give me directions, and stop me from getting so panicked that I would crash my car into any oncoming traffic. I'm happy to inform you that she succeeded with both of those endeavours. We're alive and kicking, hoorah!

We followed directions from an internet print-out which ended up getting us totally lost; we drove across the Sydney Harbour Bridge twice (!) and eventually found our way after a driving time of 90 minutes. Did some "Thank God we're still alive" eating and shopping, wandered around a couple of malls, and eventually found the Eye Clinic. It was a gorgeous place, very relaxed and modern. I was called in after only waiting five minutes.

I started off with a lady, who measured my eyes and did the little puff-of-air test in each. Then I had to do a general optical exam with the letter/number/colour chart where she tested my prescription. Then she tested the moisture levels of my eyes (which are pretty dry, she informed me afterwards). Fast forward twenty minutes to some more measuring, after which she placed some stinging eye drops in and asked me to wait outside for 15 minutes to let the effects kick in.

I wandered back outside to sit with my friend, who kept on sneaking weird glances at me. Turns out the eye drops were to dilate the eyes, so my pupils were ginormous! She laughed, told me that I looked like I was on drugs, and we both agreed it would be best if we weren't pulled over by any police cars on the way home.

Fast forward again to even more tests and measurements, and that was it - I am a successful candidate for laser eye surgery! Next step will be checking some dates with Jase and my Dad (aka: The taxi drivers) and booking in the surgery.

I'm currently left with hugely dilated pupils that make me look as though I've been experimenting with all kinds of drugs, and one heck of a headache from squinting in the sunshine all the way home. But I'm also hugely satisified in the fact that I sort of know how to drive to Manly now, coming home only took 55 minutes. Squee!

I will be glasses and contact lens free in no time! (And also hugely poor, but that is absolutely not the point right now.) *shimmies*

Decisions.

I've spent the last couple of days catching up with friends who I don't see nearly enough, because we're all teachers during the week, and slackers during weekends. It's incredible how it seems like I saw them not that long ago, when in actual fact it was months. My horrid scatterbrained-ness is really getting the better of me.

Today saw us head out to some travel agents to grab some brochures and look around at various trips that are available, as one of the girls is also looking to teach overseas. (Did you know they have doubled the original price of a UK working visa to $520? I nearly fell off my chair in shock. $520!) It was a bit scary sitting in the travel agent, realising that later on this year I'll actually be picking myself up and moving overseas. Bloody scary, but exciting at the same time.

Except now I have one heck of a lot of travel ideas, but nowhere near enough time or money to actually do them! Here are some options;

• England: This is a definite. After some rearranging, Jase and I have decided that we're going to base ourselves there. He will be heading over in August, and I'm going to join him in late December/early January. The plan is for me to find a temporary teaching position and get that ready before I fly over there, so I can start earning pounds fairly quickly with less stress.

• USA: Most of you know by now that I'm well and truly addicted to Contiki tours, and I had planned to do my huge, double tour, 50 day extravaganza early next year. Sadly, looking at tour dates that are available and my financial situation, it's more likely that I will end up doing these in the later half of 2008.

• Europe: Hold me back! Last time I was in Europe, Jase and I did a tour and had an absolute ball. I discovered today whilst reading the brochures, that they've added extra stops to our tour for the same price; Prague, Spain and Eastern Germany! I am so tempted to do the exact same tour all over again, and just explore different places when I can. Squee! There are stacks of options for Europe, heaps of different tours or even opportunities to travel yourself. Must go back.

• Scandanavia: I also found the perfect Eastern European tour! 21 days starting in Denmark, visiting Finland, Sweden, Russia and Germany. It looks amazing, and isn't very expensive either. I definitely have to do this one while I'm overseas.

The downside to all of these great finds? I want to go NOW! [stomps]

It must be nice to be a Teacher.

"Wait, you're on holidays again?"

Simply typing those words makes me want to deliver a swift kick to the nether regions of the poor soul who dares utter that question.

The responses I am given when people ask me what I do for a living are always the same. "Oh teaching, that must be a fun job" "It must be nice starting work at 9am and finishing at 3pm!" "Wow, you get all those holidays!" "It cant be all that hard" "They're just kids."

I could write a whole post dedicated to each of the above statements but this afternoon I'll settle for the holidays part. In my neck o'the woods, we have eleven week terms with 2 weeks break in between each one. It is one of the perks of the job, for sure; who would turn their nose up at getting time off?  Like any other careers, teaching can be fantastic and rewarding. It can also be very, very stressful.

We have syllabus documents to teach by. We have hectic class timetables that are jumbled around every few weeks to fit in unexpected new events. We are expected to teach more content than is humanly possible in every year. We teach lessons to children who don't speak English. We teach lessons to children who have behavioural problems. We teach lessons to children who have learning difficulties. We teach lessons to children with disabilities. We monitor and most importantly teach students for longer hours than some parents even see their children. We have to create a programme for every single term and be able to justify what we are teaching.

And when do we get the chance to do this programming? Certainly not in work hours; we're too busy teaching. We do the majority of this programming in the holidays, or in our own time after school hours are over. Let me ask you some questions. Can you switch off your work thoughts the second you walk out of your office doors? How much work do you take home in your time off work? Are you expected to do professional learning and accreditation in your own time?

Certainly, I've enjoyed a number of days in the past week where I have relaxed, exercised and watched far too many episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But I'm also about to start spending the last week of my holiday planning for next term. Programming for teaching. For teaching your children. Care to keep on judging?

So in answer to the question, yes. I am on holidays. Again.

Won't Someone Please Pass the Birdseed?

The sight that greeted me as I walked past my cockatoo's cage earlier this week. [Cue high pitched shrieking and arm-flailing.]

It was a spider.

Am sorry Gage. Looks like you won't be being fed anytime soon.

Operation New Bun - Part Two.

Things aren't going along too swimmingly here at the Bun Mansion.

New Bun is still hyper, and the chances of her bonding with Bella and Lucy are looking pretty slim. When I brought her home, I thought she would be quite reserved having been rescued from attack dogs; she's actually quite confident. At the moment, she's still living in her own house next to the Bun Mansion (aka, the hutch) because I don't trust her. The whole time she's been there, Lucy has completely ignored her. Bella (after surviving the biting attack) has been keeping an eye on her, very warily. I'm not bringing them inside today, I'm going to leave them next to each other a little longer first. Where is the love?

I've also come to realise that despite only one of my rabbits has real red eyes? The camera seems to think they all do. Poor buns.

Meet New Bun. Looking very innocent in this picture, but I know the truth! Crazy rabbit. I haven't named her yet, because a) Nothing seems to fit, and b) If things don't work out and I have to find her a new home, I'll be less sad. She is still very squishable, with or without those devil eyes.

This here photo shows Bella Rabbit contemplating her escape routes off the kitchen table. Apparently, she still doesn't like the taste of her medicine very much. She is a celery machine. Not pictured is her huge roll of neck fluff, ready for winter. Also very squishable.

My ickle Lucy Bun, leaving a path of mutilated celery in her wake. Don't let those droopy ears fool you because she is one tough cookie. I think she is giving me the stink eye in this photo; I had just poked fingers around her groin. And she is, yes, very squishable. Even with an ugly, somewhat shorn butt.

I'll keep on persevering with Operation New Bun, but I'm a bit worried that things aren't going too well. It's still early days. Wish me luck.

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Blog.

Considering the amount of animal related posts in the last couple of weeks, I am surprised that I still have visitors stopping by. Pleasantly surprised, of course! I'm going to refrain from talking about the bunnies today, but never fear! Your rabbit dialogue will continue as normal tomorrow, and I'm sure you are simply riveted.

If you head on over to my mum's blog, you can check out her new car; a Mustang convertible! It's absolutely gorgeous, I'm still debating stealing it for the road trip I plan on doing.. eventually. Mum and I squished into the backseat (my knees are still in pain, PAIN!) last night, Kirby hopped into the front seat and Dad drove us into the city ready to see John Mayer, who was fan-bloody-tastic! Even when he's just grooving with his band and not singing, the music is amazing. And he had a sax and trumpet player! I love jazz. As for that voice, wow. I think I need to be Mayer-ised more often.

The only bad thing about the concert was that it was all seating, as I would have loved to be standing up and dancing. Seat dancing only goes so far. That's the pain in the arse with artists coming to Australia; we don't have small town gigs, we get huge Entertainment Centre style gigs with thousands of people and no real intimacy. (And we all know I wanted intimacy with Mayer, yep.)

Favourites were definitely I Don't Trust Myself (With Loving You) and Vultures. Excuse me while I swoon. Clarity was also fantastic, as was Why Georgia. (I've decided that if I ever have a little girl, Georgia is going to be a name I'll consider.) John and I didn't get our rendezvous afterwards, but we did have a connection during the show; we drank from our beverages a the same time, and when I suggested songs to play next, he followed through. We've still got it.

(Oh, and I wore my "Star Light, Star Bright" Threadless tee to the concert and glowed in the dark. Nothing like having a glowing bosom.)

So while the Evanescence concert had the scary goth dressers out in full force, the Mayer concert brought out the skanks in hordes! I saw so many er, unusually dressed females that I grew accustomed to it by the end of the night. Of course being the dork that I am, I decided to create a song in the spirit of the evening. I dedicate this one to the support act, Ben Kweller, who liked to rhyme. Alot.

One skank, two skanks, three skanks, four.
Oh look, there are even more.
See them sitting on the floor,
What a bunch of dirty whores!

On the way home, I was begging for Dad to put the car top down. I mean, who drives a convertible with the top left up? Pshaw. My suggestion was declined, and I may or may not have sulked on the journey home. We had to stop in to get money out at a service station on the way home, and they decided to humour me by putting the top down for the last ten minutes of the journey home.

Well. The phrase "freezing my tits off" is the most appropriate one I can muster up. It was so cold that my teeth were actually chattering, Mum and I were in hysterics until our stomachs hurt looking at each other's hair being tossed about in the wind. As great as convertibles are, I don't recommend actually taking four people in one. The squish factor is considerable, I'm not sure my knees will ever forgive me.

Just to complete this random blog entry, I recieved a lovely compliment through email the other day, and must share it;

"I came across your blog on the internet and I have to say, you have really
pretty feet and an awesome sense of fashion when it comes to shoes."

Hear that? Am fashionable! With pretty feet! Keep those compliments coming and pretty soon my head won't fit through the door.

Operation New Bun

New Bun is home.

But first up; Bella is doing much better, but will be continuing her medicine for another four weeks. Yes, you read right. Four weeks of squirting the icky rabbit medicine into her mouth twice a day. I don't know who I feel more sorry for; her or me! Courtesy of me and my trusty scissors, Lucy had most of her butt de-clumped, and now has a special ointment to put on, also twice a day. The downside is that my bloody rabbits darling angels also took a hefty $150 out of my savings account. But they're healthy, so I'm happy.

I read up on bonding rabbits, because Bella and Lucy are like sisters and probably wouldn't take well to an intruder. (Now I'm imagining New Bun dressed up like a burglar, hee.) I'm supposed to set up a separate cage for New Bun and have it next to the normal hutch, so that the rabbits get used to each other's scents. Fair enough. NB can live in the travel carrier for a while. I'm also supposed to bring them inside together and monitor them. Sounds fairly easy, right?

I thought I'd start with Bella, since she's the calmer bun of the pair lately. I put her and New Bun together on the lounge.

Er. Did you know that rabbits actually growl?

New Bun is quite fiesty. She jumped at Bella and tried to bite her. Bella looked startled for a bit, then bounced back at her, so I called a bunny time out. I was so worried about Bella and Lucy being the snarky ones, but New Bun seems to be a wee bit nasty. I'm getting the feeling this is going to take a mighty long time.

What name fits a fiesty wee girly rabbit? Discuss amongst yourselves.

What's Worse Than a Pissed Off Bunny?

The answer is, of course, two pissed off bunnies.

[This post contains much blather about rabbits, medicine and pee. Consider yourself warned ahead of time.]

Bella looks much, much better after 5 days of treating her with medicine. Her eye is less swollen, though her face is still puffy. She's taken to hiding in her cage when I come and get her, but once she's inside with me she relaxes a little more. It's quite nice actually; rather than running off and sulking, she actually comes up and lets me have a little cuddle now. (Rabbit/Momma bonding! Who knew?)

She is hilarious when she has her meds; she makes it hard for me (but has never bitten, thank goodness) but eventually she gives in. When it goes in, out comes her tongue, and she sits up on her hind legs and swipes at her tongue with her paws. If I could speak bunny, I'm sure she'd be saying "What the FUCK was that? Get it off! Get if off!"

Bella goes back into the vet tomorrow morning, to show the vet the progress since the last visit and we see what happens next. I'm hoping it will be positive news, and that it won't require surgery because I? Am still paranoid about subjecting my wee rabbit to anaesthetic. Bah! (And this, folks, is why I never did finish my Veterinary Nursing course. Am a big sook.)

Lucy rabbit was always my favourite (Gasp! How rude! Favourites out of children? Naughty!) when she was a baby, because she was a dwarf lop who fit into the palm of one hand. As she grew up, she changed colours and grew a LOT (dwarf, my arse!) but was still just as adorable. She was very affectionate, she actually used to climb up on my chest and lick my cheeks - bunny kisses! Then she turned into moody, angsty teenager rabbit. Imagine a cranky teenager without the doors slamming, but with biting teeth instead. Yeow.

She was clever enough to figure out what a litter box was for. I don't use kitty litter, just line it with newspaper and shredded paper instead; and all of a sudden, they just started using it! Crazy, eh. All sounds wonderful, except for one thing. Lucy likes to sit in the litter box. The used litter box. Therefore, I have a cute rabbit who smells like pee. I've tried all sorts of things to get her out of it, putting in two litter boxes, having a hay corner. Nope. She quite likes sitting there, thankyouverymuch. Must be warm or something.

The downside to this (aside from the smelly pee feet, that is) is that her fur around her feet, butt and back is all matted. And also smelly, but that's not the point. I've soaked her butt in warm water to try and un-mat the fur, which works for a day but then goes right back to the way it was after she gets back in the hutch. I've trimmed clumps of matted fur off, but it grows right back. Gah!

Today it was time for Lucy's butt-check, and my poor silly rabbit looks quite worse for wear. Her tail used to be a white fluff ball, is now more like a stick. I spent the better part of an hour giving her butt a huge trim, but some spots are so matted that I had to carefully chop right down to the skin. And it's a bit irritated, quite red and sore looking in spots. See rabbit? That's why we don't sleep in our pee.

Anyone got any ideas about what I can do to soothe her legs? She's not bothered by it, she was her usual snarky self trying to bite the scissors as I was trimming her. Tomorrow when she's calmed down, I'll give her another warm soak and get the last bits off. Short of shaving her butt, I don't know what else to do! (And I'm so not game to do that. Hell no!) I've taken out the litter box completely, as well.

So now I have TWO rabbits that think I'm a horribly sadistic human.

Oh, and did I mention that the vet's office are looking to find a home for another bunny? It was found a couple of months ago in a random backyard being attacked by dogs, so it was rescued, healed and is now looking for a home. They told me about her last week (since they saw me there with Bella) and asked did I want her? (Note: Bad idea to ask me if I want a new animal baby for free. Psh.) I was too worried about Bella though, so I said that if she was still there next week, I'd think about it. See? A sucker for pets.

If she's still there, I'm thinking of giving her a home. My hutch is big enough for one more bun, my girls are friendly (if not to me!) and I'd hate to think of that poor rabbit being put to sleep simply because noone could find her a home. I'll let you know tomorrow. (She's a real Easter bun, white coloured but with evil red eyes. Squee!)

Shuffle Me, Baby.

Thanks to all of you for your musical suggestions the other day; I spent a rather long time searching for songs that afternoon and ignoring everything else I was supposed to be doing. (What can I say? Procrastination is my middle name.)

I ended up downloading a pretty hefty number of songs, ranging from the Vengaboys (!) to Metallica (!) (Seriously, you should see my Recently Added Itunes folder. It's like four different people are sharing it or something.) I organised my music folder on the computer as well, and found some absolute classic songs that I hadn't updated to my Ipod for some reason. Of course, I fixed that. Hooray!

Flagpole sitta - Harvey Danger (This was our Contiki Europe wake-up song! It's also from American Pie, love it.)
Where is the love - Hanson (Brings back obsessed 13 year old memories. I was possibly their biggest stalker fan.)
This is how we do it - Montell Jordan (I was cool once, alright?)
The real Slim Shady - Eminem (I was such a rebel that I bought this single. And it even contains the eff word! Gasp!)

Lately when I've been walking, I've been bringing out the whole treadmill karaoke miming experience once again (believe me, if the house was empty I wouldn't be miming, I'd be singing my lungs out.) I've realised though, not every song works for karaoke miming.

It either has to be a song with;

a) Fantastic angry-ish lyrics; aka Too Bad - Nickelback, Hemorrhage - Fuel, Sick & Tired - Anastacia, Stronger - Britney, (hee) The Kill - 30 Seconds to Mars.

b) A good 'treadmill beat' with stupid-ish lyrics; aka Juicy - Better than Ezra, Lala - Ashlee Simpson, My Humps - Black Eyed Peas, Hypnotic - Craig David, Starry Eyed Surprise - Paul Oakenfold.

c) The 'cheese factor', songs that are full of cheesy goodness; aka On The Way Down - Ryan Cabrera, All Around Me - Savage Garden, Good Times - Tommy Lee,  Just Dance - Jamiroquai.

All the randomness is fabulous when it's me listening to my Ipod, I don't care if the songs jump from Britney to the Beach Boys. But it is kind of amusing when other people are listening in on it.

On our New Zealand Contiki, the tour driver pretty much stole my Ipod most days when we were travelling; our Day Song was Wind it Up - Gwen Stefani, and mine was the only Ipod that had that song on it. Some days, he'd just put random Ipods on shuffle and have them connected to the coach radio so that everyone could hear the songs. I remember cringing at first, just waiting for a daggy song to come through. For some reason, Ipod decided to play about six Roxette songs in a row that day. (Suffice it to say that the next person's Ipod was hooked up at that point!)

Oh well. I guess it was better than the other tour member whose songs consisted of music by The Corrs only. (Shudder) Alright, I'll admit it, I went through a Corrs phase myself once, what? Runaway was a great song! Psh. I would never listen to that music! Dag.

The Biggest Loser... what?

I think it's safe to say that I'm a wee bit addicted to watching the Australian Biggest Loser television show. I watched it last year, mum and I would sit on the lounge watching the show and eating dinner at the same time. (!)

I loved (and hated in the same breath) Fiona, because she was this gorgeous thing, even at 100kgs. And at the end of the series? She was absolutely stunning. Jealous! So jealous!

I also have a love/hate relationship with Ajay Rochester, the host. I think she's great for having lost so much weight and looking confident and all, but I find the way she speaks completely bloody horrid (I'M A-JAY RO-CHES-TARRRR) - she sounds out her words all wrong, she drags out her sentences and she says the most obvious things. (Although I was amused the other evening while watching the show's credits, seeing "Ajay dressed by ___" flash up on the screen, closely followed by "Ajay tanned by ___" soon after. Classic!) Oh, speaking of her dressing, her stylist really needs a good whack on the head.

When this year's show started, I wasn't that interested. It's not that I didn't like the show, I was just a bit disheartened after learning that the winner had cosmetic surgery to tighten up once it was all done. What normal person can afford to do that? Yes, the weight loss is great, but how about leaving it natural? Sheesh. The disinterest didn't last long, though. I'm well and truly suckered back into it.

I miss Bob and Jillian. I would gladly have my arse whipped into shape by either of those two, Bob preferably (though he needs to grow his hair back first.) The two Aussie trainers for this year, just don't do it for me. Alright, Shannon does because let's face it, he's gorgeous! I can't help but talk in a Shannon voice after I hear him talk though; it's a real excited, bogan-y type voice. Too funny. Michelle seems quite fake though, I haven't warmed to her at all. I feel like her inner voice is thinking something along the lines of "Fat people. Ew!" And I hate that she has worn the same ugly pair of red joggers all season. Blech.

This past week has been really enjoyable - the last six were flown to Queenstown, to face all sorts of challenges. And I was squeeing with delight when Courtney did the Canyon Swing (been there! done that!) and when Munnalita did the K-Bridge Bungy. (been there! done that!) It's made me want to go back to New Zealand again.

There is one thing I can't stand about the show. The complaining. They're in a house with a body/lifestyle workover completely paid for, and all they do is complain. They complain when they "only" lose 3kgs. They hope for more. They aren't happy. They compare themselves to everyone else, and they complain some more. Gah! I understand it's a competition, but seriously, for them to even lose 0.5-1kg a week is healthy. It's watching them complain about not losing more weight and faster, that makes the show annoying. That, and Ajay's ugly hairstyles and horrible clothing choices. And did I mention her voice?

You know, it doesn't really matter anyway. I'll be watching tonight.

Who wouldn't lose weight for these two trainers? Phwoar. Sign me up.

This Post Does Not Exist.

I just had this huge post typed up, but then ended up closing it down in the midst of a snark fit. Bella Rabbit is doing okay; her eye has calmed down, but she is still sitting in the corner with it closed most of the time which doesn't look good. Meaning? I'm still a worried mum, who is not really in the mood for blogging.

Instead, I am leaving you with a request.

Can you please distract me with your best walking/running songs? Some of you might know that I've been walking at least 30 minutes a day for the last month or so, and I'm exhausting my playlist a little. Give me some of your favourites, save me from a future of walking to the same angry songs over and over.

Happy Easter.

Needing Good Thoughts.

This morning started out like any other holiday morning; I woke up late, pottered around the house and went for a walk on my treadmill. Since it was sunny outside, I figured I'd better get on with the washing, so hung out a couple of baskets and checked on the rabbits while I was out there.

Lucy was a pig as usual, nosing my hand out of the way when I poured in her food for her. Bella though, was nowhere to be seen. I found her hiding under the sheltered end of their hutch, giving me the stink eye. This is nothing unusual, my dear Bella bun isn't the friendliest of rabbits in her best moments. But then she swivelled her head around in the opposite direction, and what I saw frightened the crap out of me.

Her right eye was literally, bulging out of her socket. Not hanging out by a thread or anything, but much, much bigger than a bunny eye should be. I brought her inside (much to her disgust) and checked out her face, it seemed all a little swollen on that side. Since bad things always tend to happen when my parents are out of town (car accidents, illness and the like) I left a panicked message on mum's voicemail asking her what the heck I should do.

She called back and told me this; 'Take her to the damn vet, woman.'

I obliged, bundling her up in her special carry-case and rushing out the door. Rushing around so fast, that I actually forgot that I was in my treadmill outfit and wasn't wearing any shoes. I was in such a state that I'll actually admit something rather embarrassing to blogworld; I totally powdered my hair this morning. My post-workout, greasy, not-washed-in-2-days hair. White talcum powder. The shame! Anyway.

I sat in the waiting area for about an hour, while the dog to my left with diarrhea was sick all over the floor and the dog to my right with vomiting problems hacked up its breakfast all over the floor. Bella and I were both wiggling our noses in disgust at that point. At last, we were called in.

The diagnosis (or lack of one) doesn't look good. The vet shaved her face under her eyeball, and proceeded to stick a couple of needles in her looking for pus or infections. He then opened her mouth and stuck a scope down there, almost resulting in a loss of several fingers because bunny teeth? Are freakin' sharp.

I had two choices; have her put in for exploratory surgery where they would basically open up her face and look for an abcess or tumour, or take her home for the weekend with medicine and hope that her eyeball settles down. The chances are? That she is probably already damaged in that eye, caused by the swelling. He also told me that performing surgery on rabbits is not a good thing, as they don't respond well to anaesthetics. In other words? If she doesn't get better, we'll need to have her put down.

(Cue to me turning into a blubbering mess on the vet's table.)

She's home with me now, looking a wee bit sad looking what with her swollen and shaved face. Gave me grumpy looks all the way home, also. Please keep my beautiful bun in your thoughts this Easter weekend; I love my Bella rabbit so, so much.

Hoping for a Windfall.

I hate being paid fortnightly.

At the moment, I have plenty of things that I need to be saving money for. Car registration and insurance, family birthdays all happening at once, moving money for going to England next year, and travel money for my USA Contiki (which is also next year.)

Paying off my car has been fantastic, except for one small thing. It's left me completely broke. As in, starting from zilch, broke. What's annoying, is that said car will also be of absolutely no use to me while I'm overseas. Really, I probably should have stuck with my old car for last year and this year, had I known that I would seriously be picking up and moving countries. Ah well, what's done is done.

I forgot what it was like to save from scratch. Everything I earned over the last year, I paid straight off the car loan; but somehow I managed to keep a small kitty for little spending purchases (aka, My DVD obsession.) Now that I am beginning again? I'm feeling the pinch.

I've opened up my higher-interest savings account again and have started putting little bits in there, but it's moving up oh so slowly. I know it will gradually work its way up, but there's the added pressure of being slightly restricted for time. If everything works out the way I'm hoping it will, I'll be moving in early January 2008. (Say it with me now; Oh shit!) Until then? I'm saving, saving, saving.

At least if I were being paid weekly, I would feel like I was achieving more. I could put more away more often, and not dread waiting two weeks for the next payment. I could convince myself that I was earning more, by being paid more often. You can blame my stupid brain for that clever notion.

I figure if I'm going to be a scrooge for the rest of the year, I might as well be clothed nicely. Therefore, you should all go and buy some Threadless gear, so that I score some too. At least then I'll be poor but fashionable? (Even if no-one does understand the humour!)

Oh, and you know what else?

I still hate being paid fortnightly.

Term 1: A Summary. Oh, and a Dog.

As much as I love hearing about schools in the USA getting huge long summer breaks (and as jealous as I am when their summer rolls around!) I do love how our school terms here are broken up into terms. Usually 10-11 weeks long, with 2 weeks of holidays in the middle. I've found that it makes the year go fairly quickly. Since Term 1 has come to a close as of three hours ago, it's fitting to post some events of note.

• The kidlets and I have almost figured each other out. I have my moments where my good judgement flies out the window in regards to expectations and management, and they have their moments when they drive me completely mad. It's all a balance.

• I'm quite happy after having my student teacher in the classroom all week. She's good with the kidlets, she recognises that they are challenging, and she's pretty creative too. So far so good, she does her next teaching block mid-term 2. (Although she does lose a point or two for sliding a chair across my freshly papered classroom walls and marking them. What can I say? I'm fussy!)

• Speaking of me being picky with my classroom, it still looks lovely. I had some hooks put up high in the walls with string attached, so I've got some hanging lines to display the kidlets work. Next term I'll be aiming to get them full up with art and activities. My storeroom is all cleaned out and ready to be organised again.

• The accreditation of doom? Is practically ready to go off and face judgement day. (Oh dear, I think I left it in my room over the holidays? Crap!)

So that's that.

A New Record. Bloody brilliant!

You guys have really done it this time; you've made this blogger a very happy little camper indeed. 20 comments? About a classically dorky t-shirt post? Fantastic! Excuse me while I frolic around the room, breaking it down in true dork style.

(I'm wearing my glasses today, so I fit the category pretty well.)

Speaking of the specs, I bit the bullet today and made a booking to have my initial appointment for laser eye surgery. It's in two weeks time, meaning I wear my glasses until then to let my eyes settle down from all the contact-wearing. Bloody glasses, everytime I look down at my work or the kidlets, they end up slipping down my nose and making me look like a cranky grandma.

(Works well when paired with the "stern" teacher look, though.)

Apparently I need a referral from a doctor or optometrist before the appointment, so I'll organise that in my holidays coming up. Am so excited! I have this horrible feeling that my eyes are going to be unsuitable for the procedure, even though they're just badly short sighted. Don't ask me why, it's just me being paranoid.

(Did you know that dorks can be extremely paranoid? Now you know.)

If all goes well, hopefully you won't externally be able to tell I am a dork. I'll pretend to be hip, at least until my inner dork rears it's head.

Do you think wearing my "I'm a Noun" shirt in public will give it away?

One size fits all - except me.

I got my Threadless order today.

And as much as I love, love, love the designs on the shirts, the sizes? Are mighty freaking tiny. I'm feeling slightly hefferish after squeezing (barely) into the X-Large size. And I just lost 5kgs. What the heck?

Still love them, though. Here they all are (click to see.) They are motivation. Must get into them loosely without squished boobs in the future. Squished boobs aren't flattering.

The first one which I pulled out with a squeal was the "I'm a Noun" shirt. Which I promptly shimmied into and went to show off.

Aly: Hey, Dad! Check out this shirt.
Dad: [squints at writing] Eh?
Aly: Do you get it? Do you? Do you?
Dad: Eh?
Aly: What's a noun, dad?
Dad: A doing word?
Aly: [incredulous look on face] It's a naming word.
Dad: Oh. I'm a name?
Aly: Me! I'm wearing the shirt! Aly is a name! A shirt is a name!
Dad: Oh.
Aly: Nevermind.

I then proceeded to show him the "Loch Ness Imposter" shirt (my all-time favourite), to which he responded "Is that an octopus?" Frustrated, I went off to display my purchases to mum. I knew she would understand.

Aly: Mum, do you get this shirt? [shoves chest in her face]
Mum: [reads] "I'm a Noun"
Aly: Yeah!
Mum: [blank look]
Aly: What's a noun, mum?
Mum: A descibing word?
Aly: BLOODY HELL. It's a naming word. A noun is a naming word.
Mum: Oh, right!
Aly: So do you see it now? I'm a noun!
Mum: Okay then.

Alright, so the fact that my kidlets know more about grammar than my parents is a wee bit frightening, and tell me - what is not funny about clever t-shirts? What's not so funny is the skimpy little sizes, but I'll get over that. Have been avoiding chocolate like crazy this week. Easter! Ack!

As for the final verdict? My sense of humour is either really fabulous, or really lacking. You decide.

My Interview.

The lovely Aimee sent me some questions the other day ready for me to answer, and to spare you from me whinging about a whole load of irrelevant crap, I figured today would be the perfect day to post them. If you're interested in playing along, leave a comment for me and I'll see what kind of questions I can come up with - but no promises for their originality, humour or making sense-ness. (Because that's absolutely a word.)

1) What is something most people don't know about you?

Most people don't know that I can hold a grudge like you would not believe. I'm actually kind of good at it, though it's not a talent that I'm particularly proud of. What's funny is that while I have possibly the flightiest memory in all of Australia, I can recall facts about times when I've been cranky or let-down by someone and simply cannot forget about them. I just can't. It's not like I'll go out of my way to be nasty in return; but I remember. (Just be thankful I'm sparing you my whinges today, alright?)

2) Where do you
see yourself in 5 years?  10?

In 5 years; I want to be back in Australia, hopefully having travelled a fair bit. I want to have gone to England, done my independant USA tour and come back home. I want to be engaged. (!) I want to have purchased a house, complete with a mortgage, two puppies and whatever animals I can convince my partner to let me take care of.

In 10 years; I'd like to be married and have settled down. I want to have travelled a little more, paid off a wee bit of the afore mentioned mortgage, and have two kids. Why two? I like that number. Twins would be nice. Painful, but nice (in theory.)

3) What can't you live without?

My pillows. I know that sounds ridiculous, but nothing feels better than falling asleep on the perfect pillow. I hate soft pillows. They need to be hard and firm and just right. When I'm travelling, the first thing I do is check all the cupboards or find the extra pillows; those cheap and flimsy ones just won't do it for me.

(I also can't live without hair elastics, because my hair? Drive me bonkers at the best of times. Especially now, grumble grumble. Without them, I would probably chuck a Britney.)

(Oh, and I can't live without my family, too. And my Ipod. And pets! Must have pets! Er, is this cheating? O'course not!)

4) If you could change careers and make the same amount of money (or more), would
you switch and what career would you choose?

I would like to be an author, I thought it would be bloody amazing to sit around in some quiet cottage tapping away at a laptop and producing a body of work. This would be fantastic if; a) I could afford to support myself whilst writing, and b) I could actually write.

5) What clique did you
belong to in high school?  Was it the same in College?

I really didn't have a clique, and I haven't stayed in contact with anyone from high school at all. When I look back, our group wasn't the popular one but we weren't exactly dorks, either. (Alright, I secretly might have been a dork, but ssh. It was a secret.) We were just sort of in between, but happy enough I suppose. At university, I was a bit of a loner. I had my dear friend Elissa in my Psychology degree. Then I met a couple of nice folks in my Teaching degree. But at uni? I was just happy for it to be over, and to get out in the real world.

Am sorry for the somewhat boring answers, but I'm trying to refrain from posting random whinges, as hard as that is for me to hold back on. Alright, just one. My first car service (on the new, less than a year old car with abso-fucking-lutely nothing wrong with it) cost me $220. What the fuck? Alright, one more. I took my contacts out in case the Laser Eye company I found ever contacts me back and sets up and appointment, and my fucking glasses keep slipping off my nose. What the fuck? Alright, last one. Why the fuck am I so grumpy today? Someone needs to just punch me in the knee or something, to snap me out of it. GACK.

Now; who's game for MY questions after that?

Sunday Google-age Round 6 (And MORE!)

So firstly, I have to say that yes -- there WAS once an African Lion Safari out my way, because I concede defeat and am not a sore loser. (Although I did hear Minchinbury used in conversation last night, not Warragamba. Dork!)

Now that I have completely lost most of you, I'd just like to say that Lala and Mick are lovely. Nothing like making an arse of yourself the first time you meet people (thankyou, my Sacred Hill Reisling, thankyouverymuch.) It was a lovely evening, with lovely company and 33 lovely bats too. Yes, I was counting them. Don't you count bats? Lovely is my word of the day today.

(Not so lovely is the part where I fell down in Jason's driveway and ended up with a lumpy head. Poor, poor Jason.)

Also, thanks to a very special Anonymous Teacher, this here blog has had it's 2000th comment! 2000! Howzat? Bloody fabulous, is what it is. Angela, I'm absolutely leaving your double post in because I refuse to slip under that magical number, so a big thanks to you too. Nothing wrong with a little cheating, here and there.

The end of this month is also my first bloggiversary, which is a wee bit special if you're a dork like I am. Cannot believe it is April.

What better way to celebrate than by making fun of checking in on who visited this week. It's been a good week blog-wise, I've discovered a couple more bloggers that I'll be adding to my Stalkeriffic Blogs sidebar very soon. Can't wait.

I Hate Ticketek
Do you? I do, too. Why do we have to PAY for bands anyway? Why isn't it free? And why the hell is America getting a tour with two of my all-time favourite bands, and NOT bringing it to Australia. That's what I'd like to know. You suck, Ticketek. You've let me down.

Southern America Contiki Tour
The trip I plan on doing next year! Actually, I'm looking at doing the Grand Northern tour AND the Grand Southern tour, so I can see as much as I can.

Dags
I am one. Even more-so when I am drinking. Embarrassing!

I'm lonely and I think I'll never meet "the one"
Oh darling, I think you need a hug. I know that feeling. But sometimes, you can still feel lonely even when you know you've met "the one". Am I alone thinking that?

I'm not paranoid
Good for you! There's nothing to be paranoid about. (Shifty eyes) There's no-one behind your shoulder. And they're definitely not talking about you. Nosir.

Riddles for Primary Kids
Here's one: How many hours does it a take a primary school teacher who hasn't drunk since her Contiki tour, to digest the previous night's beverages and feel chipper again?

Problems swallowing, pulled muscle
That doesn't sound very pleasant, but I have to ask: Which muscle did you pull and more importantly, how did you pull it?

I sprained my ankle
Have a cookie.

Teddy Geiger shirtless pictures
Google's let me down here, too. Maybe you could ask the chick that went to primary school with Teddy Geiger - perhaps she has a stash hidden away somewhere that she could get out for you.

Spotty Arms
I would love to have smooth, spot-free arms. They never go away, no matter what product I use on them. I blame my dad for them. If you figure out the remedy, please let me know.

My skin goes red and splotchy in the sunlight
Perhaps you are a vampire?

I love toe sucking
Toe sucking at weddings
Red Toes are Nice
Sounds like you've got to be very careful about what sort of guests you should invite to your weddings these days.

Bahahaha!
Someone's stolen my word and I'm pissed off. Back off, fools.

Bedtime stories for Primary age kids
I intend on reading my kids any book I can get my hands on. A good variety is the best trick, so they don't get bored with reading. I'd probably stay away from the Mills and Boon romance novels though; I'm just saying.

Death on a Shotover Jet
I could NOT believe that out of all the adventure things we did whilst on Contiki, (the AJ Hackett bungy, skydiving, canyon swinging, white water rafting, river boarding - and yes, I am bragging because I am BRAVE!) the only death that has been recorded was on the Shotover Jet boats. Can you believe jumping over a bloody 209 metre canyon is safer than being a passenger in a boat? Insane!

I'm a Teacher
Me, too. Let's be friends.

Constant Pain in Chest while Burping
Lay off the fizzy drinks for a while, alright?

My Mazda MX5 has a Mouldy Roof
Does it smell like cheese? I like cheese.

Random Highways
I still need some takers for my road trip to nowhere. And yes, there will be random highways involved.

Can you squish bugs with flat shoes?
Baby, you can squish bugs with any shoes. Did you know cockroaches actually POP when you step on them? (shudder)

Headaches at Parent Teacher Interviews
Yep. Sounds about right.

Having Sex on Contiki
This seems to be the question of the month. YES! Alright. Go and have sex on Contiki. I just hope your room-mates don't mind.

Pale Skin
Welcome to my world (heaving a dramatic sigh right about now.) I have this one brown spot around my neck and shoulders from my horrible sunburn last year, which Jason likes to tease me about - brown, white, brown, white!


Floating Heads
Sounds like a nifty band name. The Floating Heads. I like it!

Lightning Rod of Hate
I figure I'm doing my bit for the blogging community by offering my services as a Lightning Rod of Hate. I'll take in all the bad bits and spit them out again. Feel free to use me at any time.

Dainty Sneezes
Well, you certainly aren't talking about my sneezes then. Mine tend to sneak up on me out of nowhere, resulting in a screech-sneeze. Scares the crap out of the kidlets.

Am I really losing my brain?
Your brain and my brain are probably living it up on a beach with cocktails somewhere.

How round should your penis be at the age of 18?
Um, perhaps I missed a class or two in health when I was younger, but round? That doesn't sound right. Oh, wait, round. Gotcha. I'm seeking the advice of any male bloggers out there; help your fellow man and answer this question, would you?

Teeth fillings needed filing down
Oh, that is the worst feeling. Go back and get it fixed before you wear your tongue away from rubbing against it. Right now!

Donut Wedding Cakes
(mumbles something bitter under breath) Alright, I have to say it. Donut wedding cakes are cheap and nasty and really, what's so bad with being traditional and baking a real damn cake. No-one wants to eat donuts at a wedding! They want chocolate, or fruit cake, something you can cut with a knife, for heaven's sake. BUY A DAMN CAKE.

Video of Woman Retching
EW. Why would anyone bring that up when I'm feeling queasy from the night before. You guys are plain mean.

Would a Holiday in the sun help Glandular Fever?
A holiday in the sun would help just about anything. Take me with you!

Ass Self-Spankers
For some reason, I don't think self-spanking would have quite the same effect as er, the other. Oh, what the hell would I know about this anyway? All these searches, you'd think I would be an expert at this kinky stuff.

Baby Emu Puke
What the hell? Who googles this anyway?

I've Lost My Undies
Let's backtrack here; where did you wear them last? What were you doing, and who were you with? Did you wear them at all? I do hope you've got some spares at home.