Excuse me, girls...

There seems to be an inordinate amount of ageism and sexism going down at work these days, and to be frank, it's driving me bonkers.

Now I rarely put fingertip to keyboard for blog-writing these days - my blog has certainly not enjoyed the whirlwind of internet fame since I first started blogging that others seem to have experienced, but this current wave of annoyance I deem worthy of a blog.

It deals with the divisions in the staffroom, and the genders and ages thereof.

It's no secret that our boss has a very low opinion of the younger female variety, a pitiful shame seeing he chose to work at an all girls' school. This year there has been a number of occasions in which he has treated young female staff with absolute contempt, accusing them of being unprofessional and lazy.

"WHAT!?" I hear you screech. But it's true. It seems to have gone unnoticed, by pretty much THE ENTIRE STAFF that the 'girls' are the only ones who do after school activities with the students, particularly the PE teachers who spent most of the year staying behind until 5pm with the students supervising sport, after starting work at 7:30 in the morning.

It was the 'girls' who oversaw the school production. It was the 'girls' who organised the debating teams and travelled out to another school each week at night to watch them. It was the 'girls' who huddled in the freezing cold to watch the students play tennis. It's the 'girls' who arrive at work at 7:30 am to get a head start on marking essays, marking SACS, marking posters, marking tests, marking exams. Girls, girls, girls.

We are not 'girls'. Well we are, but that's beside the point. We are not 'girls' to the other staff, we are women, we are teachers, we are professionals, we are colleagues. But we are not 'girls' to be told off for chatting at our desks, or accused of being bitchy, or seen as unprofessional or lazy. We do everything everyone else does, and more. For a whole lot - and I mean A WHOLE LOT - less pay.

Thousands and thousands of dollars less.

So to everyone who talks to us like we're naughty 15 year olds, I would just like to say a resounding 'fuck you' - from the girls.

O me, o me, o me! I heart W.W.

O me! O life!

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;

Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;

Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)

Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;

Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;

Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;

The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?



Answer.
That you are here—that life exists, and identity;

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.


Walt Whitman

I'm sick of...

... being sick! I got a really bad cold about three days into the school holidays, and have felt gross ever since. So I went back to work last week, and had so much on, that my cold just got worse and worse.

When I was talking to the other girls, we came to the conclusion that in our jobs, we just have to accept that we'll be sick pretty much the whole time from between about April/May to early November. The abominably early mornings, the straining our voices constantly above the din of classroom chatter, the sniffles, coughs and sneezes all over us as snotty kids try and tell us they need more time on their essay, they need to go to sick bay, can they go to the toilet please?, Miss -- can you sign this note etc etc.

I fall into exhaustion from all the caring, caring, caring, listening to 29 whining voices, only to be told by the bell after 45 minutes that I have to move onto the next 29 strains of colds and flu and high-pitched voices.

It is absolutely, definitely categorically time for career #2. Or just another job. I said to Josh last night, "maybe I'll have a baby, and not have to work.' That was met with a fairly determined 'no'.

So the hunt is on. The question now is... for what??

The Challenge

Mi amiga Lisa has presented me with this challenge (cos someone presented her with it):

List five things that certain people (who are not deserving of being your friend anyway) may consider to be 'totally lame,' but you are, despite the possible stigma, totally proud of. Own it. Tag five others.

It's kind of hard, but I'll do my best. And like Lisa mentioned, I'm not sure I'm proud of them, but I guess they are things that I think are pretty cool or at least completely acceptable.

1. I always listen to my iPod/mp3 player and pretend I'm on Australian Idol.

It's true. And I don't just imagine I'm on the show, I actually imagine my outfit (black vinyl bodysuit ala Britney Spears Oops!... I Did It Again for when I do Thriller by Michael Jackson), hairstyle (will probably need hair extensions for the ones I want), the genre of the week (playing an instrument - Alive by Pearl Jam) and the judges' comments (Dicko: "Every week you amaze me... you just know how to rock out.")

I don't even watch Australian Idol!

2. I'm fanatical about etymology.

I'm prone to giving people enlightening, exciting lectures about the origins of the English language, and I analyse words to see what links they have to ye olde English, German, French, Gaellic etc. Unfortunately most people are ingrates who take our language for granted and poo-poo my hordes of knowledge on the topic.

3. I get stressed out really easily, especially when it comes to Cuba and what will happen when Fidel Castro (viva Fidel!) passes away.

I couldn't sleep the night he had that operation last year. What am I worried about? I guess I hate to see everything he stood for torn apart by US occupation. Who wouldn't be worried!!

4. I want to be everything and therefore am totally non-committal to any kind of career.

You name it - a law degree? Hell yes, I'll do that! Beauty therapy? I'm looking into it my friend! Acting - I'm organising my portfolio as we speak! Farmer? The simple life is what I want! Writer? I've started three novels and a screenplay! A fairy at childrens' birthday parties? I'm the girl!

Never ask me for a long term(or short term for that matter) plan cos I got nothin' and everything! In fact I've made a career out of dreaming!

5. I still sleep with Snuggles, my teddy of 22 years. And he has a small wooden doll inside him that seems to have once been a part of a babushka set that is drawn as a British knight, called Arthur (see photos).

Snuggles is from a line of toys that I believe is now defunct called 'Glow Worms'. I took out Snuggles' glow stick thing years ago and mum stuffed him with some material. Upon finding Arthur on the floor of my mum's shop in about 1991, I put Arthur inside Snuggle's tummy, where he rests on a red woollen bed. Weird? I think not. Innovative? Absolutely!

Suzi

That's it. After two and a half joyous years together, my best friend and I have parted ways.

Suzi drove off into the September rain with her new owner today, and a little part of me has disappeared forever. Goodbye little princess, you shall not be forgotten xx

A tale from A Tale from the Gunbarrel...

After what seemed like a thousand set-backs, and many, many rehearsals and auditions at Northbrooke house, Josh finally got his actors and crew ready for the shoot yesterday.

And what a shoot it was. Arriving at 2pm, after hauling what felt like a neverending conga line of lights, cables, bags, stands, tripods and a very expensive camera into the car, we straight away got into unpacking and assembling the items we had so painstakingly stacked in the little Civic.

The shoot was at a place called the Chaise Lounge (which Josh consistently and incorrectly pronounces the 'chase lounge') which when I arrived was quiet, peaceful, warm and reminded me very much of Moulin Rouge. The bar is in a basement, decadently furnished with red velour chaise longues, regal looking armchairs, red walls adorned with baroque-style paintings and even slight early-twentieth-century-chinoisie-esque curtains and drapes. Textures, textures, textures... it was indeed an ideal setting for Josh's bizarre underworld film.

Time flew and before we knew it, it was 4.00pm and the actors were arriving. I was completely amazed and inspired by the way the whole thing ran - actors were completely focused (as I mentioned to Adam, very few boo-boos - nothing for the bloopers reel), our make-up artist (the beautiful and talented Liz) was so versatile, so sure of what she was doing and created a very creepy scar for Dale.

But most amazing of all were the two directors, Josh and Chris, who withstood 8 hours of holding boom mics, cameras, arranging lights, sets, directing and focusing... just for one scene.

Josh's fearless determination constantly amazes me, his undying creative vision is a force to be reckoned with. He wrote the screenplay, he auditioned the actors, he was the set director, director of photography, gaffer, boom holder and motivational speaker, all at the tender age of 22.

The pied piper of puds or, Token Insane Trophy Wife strikes again

I've already posted a post about my insurmountable levels of love that I have for everything, constantly bubbling under my skin, waiting to erupt in an earthquake of affection or compassion.

Yesterday I went for my walk again, no suprises there, everything completely normal.

As I neared the park, I noticed a white cat rubbing itself against the brick fence of a house on the corner of Wattletree Road and some other street. Being the animal obsessee that I am, I HAD to stope and give it a cuddle.

Well. Big mistake. HUGE mistake. The pud WOULD NOT LEAVE ME. IT WAS LIKE A DOG.

I tried dumping it back in its front yard a few times, only to have it RUN AFTER ME like a puppy! It didn't even slink cat-style, it actually trotted by my side. This started to bother me after a while, as its very upsetting to leave something so vulnerable. I even had to change the direction I was walking in to avoid the pud being hit by a Malvern 4 wheel drive (a likely fate for any of us, really).

So I sped off again, hoping the cat would forget me and stay back at its house, but it didn't.

Enter Insane Malvern Trophy Wife in 4 wheel drive, pulling into her driveway. She lowered her electric window and smiled at me. Understandably, I thought the pud must belong to her.

'Is this your cat?' I asked hopefully.
'Oh God no,' she replied, 'that cat's a horrible thing. Very vicious.'

I looked down at the cat rubbing its head lovingly against my legs, purring audibly.

'It seems to like you,' she said unhelpfully. 'Just throw it over a fence, it'll find its way home.' Her Trophy Children in obligatory private school uniforms with Camberwell-girl hair stared.

'Maybe I'll try the house one more time,' I said slowly, trying to end the pointless conversation. The cat darted towards the car, and I grabbed it quickly. It hissed, but still loved me.

'Puss!' I reprimanded lamely, 'you'll get run over!'

'Oh, oh oh,' chortled Insane Trophy Wife sadistically, 'go ahead! Put it under the wheel and I'll just squish it, miserable thing!'

'Mum!' squealed the Trophy Kids, as I smiled numbly and backed away with pud safe in my arms.

Insane bitch!

I don't have curly hair...

... cos I don't eat crusts. They're disgusting :(

This place...

This place terrifies, amazes and humbles me.

When I die I want to crumble into the earth, be pecked at by birds, be consumed by dirt and clay and return to life as grass and eucalyptus and shrill cicadas. I want to stare at the sky for all eternity and die and be reborn over and over til the day that there will only be night.

Tumbling

I've been to Queensland twice.

I live in Victoria, the sedimentary state. When I say sedimentary, I mean it is at the bottom of Australia - the safe centre of gravity of an incomprehensibly huge land. Victoria is small but sturdy.

Both times that I've journeyed to Queensland I've travelled via bus and car respectively.

And both times I've had this overwhelming sense of vertigo, that the vehicle I'm in will conk out and roll back down to Victoria, or that when I step out I will fall, tumbling down, down, down til I arrive dazed and damaged back in the bottom of Australia.

You know it really does have quite an effect.

People (well, boys and mean girls) often criticise girls who 'break nails'.

You always see on B and C grade movies some football jock/high school bully/peevish loser/bitter virginal male jeering at girls who are upset, teasing "what happened? Break a nail?"

Ugh. Sooooooo lame.

What people don't understand is that in the case of REAL nails breaking, it friggin' hurts.

In the case of FAKE nails breaking, the shrivelled, pale and weakened real nail underneath looks flaky and munted, not a pretty sight. And it's a massive annoyance cos you have to hide this munted nail under a bandaid while flashing around your other nine sexy porn-star nails.

Last night as I was drying myself after my shower, I felt this unnatural bend on my finger nail. My whole fakey was coming off!!

With a quick clip of the nail-clippers my middle left fingernail was revealed in all it's dishevelled glory.

'Check it out!' I yelled to my beloved, waving my nudey fingernail in his face. He was mildly fascinated, but I didn't get the reaction I wanted (or deserved).

It was truly amazing, and now I am completely divided whether or not to keep up the fakies or embrace my boring old naturals, and start doing the manis again!

What EVER will become of me!!! :)

I heart Anthony Burgess <3

"Well, well, well, well. If it isn't fat, stinking billygoat Billy-Boy in poison. How art thou, thy globby bottle of cheap, stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou."

Genius!

Why am I not like Lisa?

My friend Lisa, a beautiful, talented girl, is stark raving mad about art and culture. She can't get enough of it. What's more, she's been clever enough to turn it into her career (I'm still working on that bit).

Lisa gets art. She KNOWS it. She can even TALK about it and hold 3+ minute conversations about it.

Now, I view myself as a pretty cluey kinda girl. Oh yeah, I'm switched on.

So why, WHY do I just NOT GET ART?

I don't mean like movies, music, theatre etc, oh I am WELL VERSED in those. I mean your actual pictures and whirls and dots and splashes and 'installations' (surely there's an easier to remember term for that!?).

An artist friend once attempted to take me to an art gallery in St Kilda. We wandered down Acland Street on a sultry early Autumn day, and in retrospect the only way I can desribe my then self is a naughty puppy. I was not focused, a little bit stubborn, didn't take it at all seriously, and more importantly, I was mostly fascinated by something that wasn't what I was meant to be fascinated by.

We approached the heavy green door, its paint flaking a little in shabby St Kilda chic style. On the frosted glass panel beside the door was a no-smoking sticker. Someone had written above the little cigarette in it's angry red circle with the bar through it "It's like..."

Hilarious. What wit!

I went inside, and can barely remember the art I saw. In fact, I can't remember it at all.

Words. That's pretty much what I do. My boyf said to me once, 'I think in pictures, and you think in words' and I have to agree.

But it would be so swell to know art so I could impress Lisa in a 3+ minute conversation.

I am petrified...

... of karma! I am SUCH a goose! What Good Girl needs to be scared of that? :)

I heart Auden

... lovers, approaching to kiss,
instinctively shut their eyes before their faces
can be reduced to
anatomical data.

(Taken from I am not a camera by WH Auden)

Because there is always room for more love in this crazy world

Ever since I've had the capacity to know, I've known that I'm a girl who loves to love.

I love everything. Animal, vegetable or mineral, you name it - my heart will ache with love for it. I worry at times about this bottomless cup of coffee that is my supply of love, because it hurts me so much as well.

My eyes fill with tears at anything to do with the RSPCA, when old people are bashed, when I see someone cry. I crumble at the most un-amazing amazing things.

The year 7 co-ordinator has a plan - each yr 7 homeroom will be rewarded with an afternoon of pizza and a movie if they stay code-of-conduct (like a warning) free for 3 weeks.

Easy peasy, I thought, my homeroom is full of angels. Little well-behaved, angelic baby girls.

But disaster struck on Tuesday. I was informed by a tiny little girl that one of the other girls had been given a code.

'What?!' I asked, bewildered, 'What for? And who got it?'

The tiny girl pointed to her equally tiny friend, who was verging on tears.

'I left my maths book in my bag.'

The class of tiny people watched me for my response. So this is it, I thought, this is why a lioness fights for her cubs. This is why a magpie swoops. Because for some of us, love is what we do.

'That's a silly reason, and it should never have happened,' was my reassuring response, as I mentally beat down my heartache for these little, well-meaning people.

My love is so often inconvenient and overwhelming, but at least it's endless, and I can't apologise or resent that.

It's really good being a Good Girl

The sky was what I inaccurately call Yogo blue, the breeze was warm and things were looking very, very bright in every sense of the word.

iPod in hand, sneakers on and hair in ponytail I set off on my walk in the sunshine. One block away I saw a wallet lying forlornly on the ground.

I picked it up, and unwilling to sacrifice my rare spurt of excercise enthusiasm by heading back I continued on my way. I looked inside and noticed all the credit cards, debit cards, driver's license and a key. I have lost many a purse and know only too well the panic and annoyance it causes and when arrived home I rang the bank straight away to let them know I had their client's wallet.

I got a phone call soon after, and spoke to a very grateful man who promised me a hefty reward in whatever form I liked.

But you know, I don't do 'the right thing' because I expect a reward. The feeling of doing something good for someone is addictive. Maybe ultimately it's even a selfish act for that reason. But his gratitude was reward enough.

I left the wallet in the letter box cos I was heading out, and got a text message later, thanking me and promising to 'take [me] and all my friends out and shout lots of rounds of drinks!'

Maybe that's my good karma right there! Just for being a really good Good Girl!

Growing up/growing up and towels.

When do you feel grown up? And, more to the point, when are you grown up? It's definitely not a case of you turn 18 and there you have it (I am living proof of that).

At my mum's house (and my aunties' and nanas' houses) they have towels. They have towels that are neatly folded, ample in supply, are crisp yet soft and smell like they've just come off the line from being in the sun. For some bizarre reason, towels are so comforting to me. They say to me 'grown up, organised and able to look after others'.

There's quite a few towels at my house. Towels in the bathroom, towels in the laundry basket, a few in the cupboard. But they're not like my mums. So I don't feel grown up. I've had little moments of organisation where I HAVE felt grown up, I provided a spare room with clean towels for my guests for a year. But I am always behind, always need something to be clean, always stressing over dust and grime, always tired, always not enough energy to run a complete life.

So I am most certainly not grown up. But I want to be because I am so old now.

George Lane

<----- Sarah and I being a little bit silly :)

I love the weekends, they are wonderful, blissful and fleeting moments in my life. On Saturday night we headed down to George Lane for a few quiet drinks, although some were definitely more quiet than others (cough cough) and had a bit of a giggle. In fact I was a little surprised, by around midnight it was getting pretty quiet, and for the first time in my life I noticed there were more chicks in the bar than blokes. But then I realised it was St Kilda, and all the guys in St Kilda are old and go home early, and all the girls are young and gorgeous and hoping to hook the old rich men that go home early.

Yesterday was definitely a stay-in-trackies-and-do-nothing day which was glorious, although I did finish my application and send it off.

So now I guess I just have to wait.

Impending disaster

The unthinkable has happened! I am so UNBELIEVABLY pathetic that I treat my potplant, Lila, like a child.

And now a horrible thing has happened. Her little bud, that was sprouting so beautifully, seems to have snapped at the stem! This happened a number of months ago as well, and I have been waiting for weeks, (even months!) for a new sprout to grow. So this beautiful fiery-red bloom was reaching for the sun and I was SO PROUD AND I KNEW THAT THIS ONE WOULD FLOWER.

But today I looked over at her lovingly and NOTICED SHE HAD SNAPPED. I performed emergency surgery on her using sticky tape, and so far she seems to be ok.

But I am so, so scared :( she is a fragile little being and I can't handle the pressure of being her parent.

730 days

So here we are. 730 days in. Two years, 104 weeks, 24 months.

Depending on how you say it, it sounds either forever or hardly any time at all.

Which is ironic, cos thats exactly how it feels.

I'm amazed at how quickly that time has gone, and yet I feel that there has been so much that I've felt.

For two whole years now there has been one person whose feelings, movements, thoughts, dreams, appetite, sleeping patterns, taste in films, taste in music, ideas, libido, sense of humour, frustrations and everything in between has influenced my own.

And despite all the times he annoys me or frustrates me or argues back (!?) I still find myself thinking about him and wishing the hours away til I see him.

It's a funny old thing, this love concept.

When we first got together there was a lot of scepticism, and I don't think it just came from my people. Josh had only just turned 20 when we met, and I was an ancient 24. I didn't want a relationship when we met, in fact it was the last thing on my mind. But as I walked back into my house that fateful Saturday morning, I already felt a little firework explode inside my heart.

So what brought an impatient young teacher and a very young, placid filmmaking student together? And why is it so inexplicably right?

I don't know. But it is.

And anyway, you know what Peter Allen said...

Love don't need a reason.

My flower

Lila <3

Being a girl

It's so hard being a girl. I'm not sure if it's a uniquely female thing, but as soon as I hear news I want to share it. I'm actually pretty good at keeping secrets. I can be trusted with a great deal, however when it's small snippets of extra juicy goss I just HAVE to pass it on.

I read about research that was done a few years ago about gossip, and how it's actually healthy (when it's not in a malicious way) for girls because it builds a sense of community and acceptance. It's definitely our way of bonding, which is clearly why we're so good at it. Now I'm brimming full of juicy news from today and I have no one to tell it to, and its seriously killing me.

Yes, it's a tough job being a girl, but I LOVE it!

I heart Shakespeare <3

Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, til by broad spreading it disperses to nought.

Henry VI

Some good news

I know the last post was sad. I am heartbroken by what goes on here.

But I have some good news (well, I think it's exciting)!

I bought a new cable for my digital camera today as I had lost the old one, as well as a new memory card, so now I can take photos galore and post them!

Yay!

Lets keep positive, it's a beautiful world!

-xxoo-

Please say this isn't goodbye

After a relatively busy Saturday, I braced myself against the FREEZING weather (note Goose, Paul and Ros: it is definitely NOT Neighbours weather in Melbourne in winter at all!! :) ) to head to the Rivoli to watch Sicko.

Josh came with me (he's always up for a political film these days!) and we were very excited about relaxing and letting Mike Moore entertain us for two hours.

Hmmmm... well despite laughing and giggling a fair bit through it (its actually quite hilarious) I came blinking out of the cinema kind of pissed off. Maybe not so much pissed off as disgruntled.

Disgruntled? I hear you ask. Are you 76 years old, Lauren? I also hear you ask.

No. I'm only 26. 26 and worried what is happening to our beautiful country :(

I love Australia. I love it so much. It is my lifeblood, it is hot and magnetic and cold and spooky. There are ghosts and spirits in the trees, the rocks the sand... there is a life in the air that hangs between mountains and hovers in gullies. It pulls people in and they never get out.

I love this land so much I will implode or explode, whichever way the red earth will take me.

But this land, as a nation... I am not so sure.

Last night I learnt about the British NHS, the French health system, the Cuban health system, Canadian one too.

But they couldn't put our beautiful country on, because our government has failed us. The changes Howard has made to our public health mean that we pay EXTRA taxes for our health system, and then we have to pay again for the services. Therefore, there is no public health in Australia anymore. It is just partly subsidised. They are hoping to make it a completely private health system.

Everything that our grandparents and great grandparents fought for, is disappearing before our eyes.

The foundations of paradise are crumbling.

L'end of the semaine

Here we are again, braking slowly as we pull up to the highway checkpoint that is Friday.

Although this checkpoint is GREAT AS I CAN SLEEP IN TOMORROW!

My entire week is filled with mornings where I count down to the next sleep in. Depressing I know, but I only have four months (eek! Yay!) of my job left before I spread my wings and fly to the hot desert-ed and tax-free nest of the Middle East.

In other news.. ok so there's no other news.

I'm actually kind of excited (in a really, really uncool way) as my yr 10s have been doing their subject selections for yr 11 and talking about uni, so I've put together a lecture that I can give them in the 'lecture theatre' at school (pfft, sif!) and they're SO excited cos they'll be like uni girls and then afterwards we'll have a little tutorial. You see? This is why I need a little holiday!

Ok enough of my uncoolness.

Adios

Come on, people!

I mean seriously - no comments? I haven't visited this page for a long time but looking at it now, I find it quite charming and my comments not just a little witty, so I recommend you all start reading it and saying a few things.

I was down in Middle Park today watching some of the shooting for Josh's short film. Things seemed to be going pretty well, the actors were in fine form and the set was looking pretty spiffy. Josh painted this canvas last night, it's a long kind of thing (at times like this a digicam would be handy :/) and he painted a long stemmed rose on it and did all these crazy scraping things (an exceedingly poor description I know) and it looked quite good, only there was something about it that didn't really take my fancy. H'anyway that painting formed part of a rather dramatic backdrop of red and black which was quite effective.

My life, on the other hand, has been incredibly dull. I seriously haven't done anything remotely exciting. I'm thinking I might head to Thailand over Christmas, God knows I need a holiday, so I'll ask my S.O about it and see what he says.

I'll make up an interesting story and post it here soon. Fingers crossed.

So....

... does anyone actually read this? or am I writing exclusively to the Gods of cyberspace?

Oy :/

So! It's that time of the year. The day has come. We're moving.

After picking up the keys aprés l'école from Armadale and coming home, we faced the vast and endless sea of boxes and random crap that houses seem to magnetically attract. Unfortunately, Josh's car decided that today is the day it wanted to lay down it's weary head and die, so it's parked up the street waiting for the RACV and the breath of life it brings.

We took a few loads of boxes and stuff over to the new place - it's looking remarkably smaller than I first remembered (oops) but my beloved has been gracious enough not to comment on how 'cosy' it's going to be.

Anyway so I'd better go and organise the chaos that surrounds me. I just wish I was like Jeannie and could blink my way into the new house.

Oy :(

Lauren
-xx-

Le quiz

Laura emailed this to me, and as I'm bored.... voila! :)

1. Were you named after anyone ? Not that I know of
2. When was the last time you cried? Last night watching Schindler's List
3. Do you like your handwriting? Nah no particularly
4. What is your favourite lunch meat? Salami
5. Do you have kids? No way
6. If you were another person would you be friends with you? Besties
7. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Probably a little too much. Although I'm usually pretty chirpy and just make sarcastic comments in my head at the retarded things people say
8. Do you still have your tonsils? Yes, all of them
9. Would you bungee jump? Heck no
10. What is your favourite cereal? Porridge
11. What is your proudest moment? Not sure but buying our new place is one of them!
12. Do you think you are strong? Not as strong as I should be
13. What is your favourite ice cream? Cookies n cream
14. What is the first thing you notice about people? Hair and face
15. Red or pink? Pink
16. What is the least favourite thing about you? Ugh sooo many things... my legs!
17. Who do you miss the most? Nana Dahl
18. Do you want everyone to send this back to you? It'd be nice but I'm posting it as a blog
19. What colour pants and shoes are you wearing? White, green, maroon skirt and ugg boots!
20. What was the last thing you ate? A Kettle chip
21. What are you listening to right now? Deadwood
22. If you were a crayon, what colour would you be? Spring green
23. Favourite smells? Coffee and fresh sheets
24. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? Josh
25. Do you like the person who sent this to you? I loooove Laura!
26. If you could go anywhere in the world where would it be? Spain or France
27. Favourite sports to watch? Now why would I waste my time doing that?
28. Hair colour? Blackish red at the moment!
29. Eye colour? Hazel
30. Do you wear contacts? No
31. Favourite Food ? Tacos, nachos and yoghurt
32. Scary movies or happy endings? Both!!
33. Last movie you watched? Some of Schindler's List, last FULL movie, The Lives of Others
34 What colour shirt are you wearing? Black ... where are 35 & 36?
37. Favourite dessert? Everything! Apricot pie maybe or chocolate pudding
38. Most likely to respond? NA
39. Least likely to respond? Everyone
40. What book are you reading? Texas
41. What is on your mouse pad? There isn't one :( Josh says they are now redundant
42. What did you watch on TV last night? Temptation and Comedy Gala thing
43. Favourite sound? Affectionate words, my mum's voice, the country
45. What is the furthest you have been from home? Malaysia
46. Do you have a special talent? Haha probably but can't think of anyone. Oh wait, I'm a good cook.
47. Where were you born? Sandringham Hospital, Melbourne
48. Whose answers are you looking forward to getting back? Anyone who wants to reply

AAAAAARRGGGHHHH!

Oh my god I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOO angry!!

The most insane thing happened this morning...

So at 12:15 I had an appointment - like any self-respecting girl I had to get my eyebrows waxed. 15 minutes I was gone. 15 MINUTES!

As I drove up my street, I couldn't get a car park. Nowhere! And who were those people walking up my driveway? To my HORROR, there were 30 people out the front of my house waiting to get in to an 'open inspection'. I asked if they were there to look out our house (there are 4 in the block) and they said yes. I ran inside and called out to Josh, who appeared with a real estate agent who was extremely apologetic. This agent had just left an abusive message on our property manager's phone because NO ONE HAD TOLD US.

That's right, we had to open our house to 30 PLUS PEOPLE and the house was soooo messy with our crap everywhere. It is so horrible to have people come in and look through your cupboards, your bedroom, bathroom, when all your stuff is everywhere because you haven't had time to hide it.

To make things 100 times worse, one of my students came through with her sister, and saw me, so she now knows everything about my house, my possessions, the fact that I live with my partner (which they're not supposed to know - it's a Catholic thing) and even though she's lovely I am still so embarrassed :(

How horrible :(

So anyone who wants to rent a place, do NOT go with NOEL JONES because they have been NOTHING but trouble for us.

I apologise for the rage but what happened this morning was horrible!

Love Lauren
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A quick rant on David Hicks vs the World

Today we had a quick discussion about David Hicks and the absolute ridiculousness of his situation. I hate talking about it cos it gets me angry. SO let me have this small rant and I'll be done with it! :)

Prior to the September 11 attacks, there was a war - the Afghan War to be precise - in the 1980s. The USA had a little team of people they supported during this who would protect their own interests. People they called 'resistance fighters'. And who was the head of these fighters? Osama bin Laden!

In fact, the USA loved these people sooooo much, they gave them not $500k, not $20 million... not $1 billion... but $6 BILLION. IN THE 80S!

That's a LOT of money.

Then things changed. These 'resistance fighters' with their $6 billion decided a bit later to attack the World Trade Centres in New York. The leader of this expedition - Osama bin Laden. The US changed the name of the 'resistance fighters' to 'terrorists'.

So David Hicks spent 5 years in solitary confinement, was tortured, held without trial under the same system that was used in Apartheid South Africa, and finally charged with 'providing material support to a terrorist organisation'.

David Hicks didn't kill anyone, he didn't fire a bullet at anyone and he ran from the frontline when the fighting began.

When Hicks joined Al Quaida it wasn't classified as a terrorist organisation.

So they're telling us $6 billion ISN'T prividing material support?

I mean, seriously...

Yawn

These posts will more than likely dry up next week when I go back to work so I'll make the most of my spare time (?!) now.

Although Josh went out for a few birthday beverages, I went to the movies with les autres filles and watched Disturbia, which I did actually find quite disturbing. Even though I get scared easily, it doesn't stop me from seeing these movies which is ridiculous.

I ended up heading in to the Nevermind Bar anyway to say hello, and was greeted enthusiastically by Nata and Drew which was nice.

It's only a week now before we move into the new place and I'm dreading the move, even though it'll be a huge relief to get in there. I really need to get some photos happening up here on this page, so I'll try and organise that.

In the meantime, I hope everyone stays well and have a great weekend!

Ciao!

Lauren
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26 and one day

Yes the rumours are true... I am now 26 years old! I know that sounds so old but I don't feel that old and I guess that's what counts.

Anyway my birthday was pretty uneventful, just hung out in the city and caught up with my brother and his gf at Fed Square before they went to the Chili Peppers :( It really should have been me going, but it wasn't to be.

We went out with all the parents last night for tea for our birthdays (Happy birthday Josh!) which was lucrative and enjoyable.

Dad and Susie stayed with us over the weekend and talking to them has completely motivated us in our travel plans for 2008 so that's the next thing we have to get organised! (after moving house).

Sorry this has been such a boring post but my brain is still snoozing so I'll leave it here!

Bye!

Lauren
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New NEW house, old house, new house

Well looks like work has begun on our apartment!! They've started knocking the old building down and so I guess that's a good sign. We went past it today then had lunch at the Docklands, and now I suppose it's time to start packing up this house to move into the next. Ugh how boring :(

I hope everyone's enjoying their Easters. I don't really like chocolate so I'm pretty lame really but Josh guzzles it like a woman! Ha ha!

Lauren
-xx-

Bon anniversaire á moi!

Just a quick reminder for everyone that it's my birthday on Tuesday so yeah, don't forget!

Lauren
-xx-

Happy Easter everyone! Although I'm not entirely sure this is the day to be saying it.

I just would like to say hello to everyone who has decided to come along and have a look at my blog, I promise I'll try to update it "regularly" and have awesome gossip and various other information on here.

See you soon!