Easter

I'm sad at how different the holidays are when you're a grown up compared to when you're a kid. All of the build-up is gone, knowing that you now have to BUY presents instead of just receiving them. I can't even enjoy the awesome that should be public holidays -- because that just means a day of doing work at home instead of uni and not being able to work (which equals not being able to meet my budget)!

*sigh* Being a grown-up sucks major hairy balls sometimes.

I did gorge myself on Easter eggs, however. Okay, so chocolate-gorging is also nowhere near as enjoyable as when you're a kid, but it's still pretty rad. For the first three days, at least.

I woke up a couple days before easter busting to pee. My rush to the bathroom is immediately stopped when I notice a line of tiny eggs in the hallway. I follow it through the dining room, over the clothes horse, across the table and behind the tv, where a giant chocolate egg is waiting. The trail continues across the bookshelf, over the fishtank, through the lounge and down the stairs where Pete the Potplant is holding an insane looking miniature cow with an easter egg uncomfortably lodged in his spine.

Either the Easter Bilby has some stupid timing or I have the worlds most awesome boyfriend.

73. Write an article for publication

73. Write an article for publication
That's right. I just wrote an article for the Star on a circus skills workshop. Y'all need to actually pick up your copies of the Star of your lawns and read them before you drive over them (yup, you're totally being targeted Mike) and read it. Then pretend Mark wrote it.

Slightly hungover...

So... I've finally done it. I managed to get so drunk that I have a section of the night that, no matter how hard I try, I just cannot remember.

It started yesterday, with the opening of the stuff on Hunter Street. A bunch of the shops have been rented out to architecture students and other creative figures. They do with it what they want in order to showcase their stuff -- and were kind enough to have fruit and cheese platters and free wine! So of course, Markus and I took full advantage of this situation and helped ourselves to three glasses. And then we took those glasses home. 'Cos they were pretty. We tried to grab some more free food (including sushi!) from the display nextdoor, but were BLOCKED by a rude old woman! Kate tried to grab some and was interrupted by, "Are you from the display nextdoor? Sorry, you can't have any." =O

Then came the second birthday celebration for the day. Leon, John, Markus and myself all took the one car, dressed in matching school uniforms. It would have looked slightly odd to outsiders (including the manly men at the bottle shop who were very amused at the sight of us marching in to stock up on goon). I am not allowed to say too much about it, due to fear of gay-mafia attacks. Needless to say, there were some very interesting encounters and situations that reminded me of how thankful I am not to be in that circle. Being milked for stories on how stable my love-life is was one such nice reminder.

Anyway, there was much, much goon to be had and I don't remember much of where the night went. I do remember drawing all over Johns leg with an orange marker but not being able to see the results because of his dark skin. I remember drawing portraits of people on a whiteboard. I vaguely remember a toasted sandwich when I got home... but waking up wearing nothing but TWO pairs of underwear was the most confusing part.

Recovery so far has involved about three litres of water, a very enjoyable massage and Berry-Weetbix with yoghurt. So I can't really complain. Except that the next stage involves A LENGTHY HIKE THROUGH THE BUSH. Yay.

In other news, I've found things I can cross off of my list:

02. Skinnydip at the beach at night
Friday night. Myself, Rosie and Mark. Some random fellow skinnydippers. Newcastle pools.

21. Get drunk on goon
"You're junk, Drohn." 'Nuff said.

24. Have a food fight.
Whether you count the Great Ice Cream War of '09, the watermelon fight a couple of weeks previously or the grape fight at Kates birthday yesterday, Markus has helped very much with this one, repeatedly.

31. Dance like a fool and don't care who's looking
I was going to use either the Silent Disco at BDO or any night at G to cross this one off. Then I remembered my performance of Beyonce's 'Single Ladies' dance in front of the giant mirror at the gym. Yes, that works well.

38. Build a giant sandcastle
Does a giant pod of whales count? Hell yes it does when you win FIRST PLACE for them and get a TROPHY for your efforts! =D

50. Plant a tree
Do herbs count? I helped plant the basil and I relocated the parsley... and I helped pot Pete!


Yay! Now I'm up to 12/90! Hmm. I'd better get a move on.

Ain't all that.

So my car is unregistered until the government decides to hand out a nicely sized bonus into my starving bank account just for being as rad as I am. My plan was just to continue driving my car with my fingers, toes, arms and legs crossed for good luck (which led to some very awkward driving) and hope I don't get booked. It worked for a couple of days, until a trip in Marks car to the gym had us pass four normal police cars and one unmarked car!

Needless to say, I'm now finding alternative transport.

Unfortunately, the alternative is by bicycle. So even though it's overcast and feral (not to mention my complete lack of anything resembling fitness) I am riding the 8km or so from my house to work. And I'm leaving an hour before work starts, so hopefully it will take no longer than that. Although I'm sure my exhausted, slumping form seen swerving back and forth across the road, sweat dripping from every part of me as I rock up to work will invoke some sort of sympathy if I am a bit late.

Something tells me that tonights gym visit will be somewhat redundant. Speaking of, I've been going... 4-5 days a week. And, okay, it's working, my body is changing shape. Unfortunately, it's mostly in MY LEGS. I've lost all of my beautiful floppyness in my legs, leaving behind mostly muscle. Again with the unfortunate when you realise how little muscle there is. Therefore, I now have the skinny legs of an akward 14-year-old. As a result, I can only wear jeans in public from now on, until the muscle starts to build.

Naughty LOLs

Okay, so I'm on D-Listed (which, thanks to Sarah, I am somewhat addicted to). I'm looking at a picture of the adorable little koala who drank the firemans water while holding his hand... but I'm having a large LOL at this comment:

"Yeah, yeah. Its all cute and sweet until they find out the koala was the one that started the fire. It came back to admire its handy work. Burned paws indeed!"

Inappropriate humour at its best.

And while I'm here...: Possibly the most amusing story I've ever seen on that site.

Mannnn, I have done NOTHING today.

I was sitting in this too-fat, retro-print beanbag in front of the computer doing stupid things like deleting music on iTunes, photoshopping and editing a screenplay... then I look up and it's 2 o'clock. I sat down after Mark left at what... 8:30? The only times I'd gotten up were to pee and to eat some wedges. Mind you, there was a long minute where I was deciding between wedges or a chicken burger...

Never fear, though, I'm now up, showered and have a load of washing in the machine.

...when did I turn into this?! I need to stand up for my rights to liberation! UNION!!1!

There are maybe plans for Parkhill tonight, which should be pretty awesome. This smaller version on the group is still as rad as ever, especially with Emma. I do miss the old members though... *sigh* Also, Markus is accompanying me to Pilates this evening. Yatta! We've been on a bit of a health kick of late. It can only be a good thing, right? Except for my legs. They disagree with that statement completely. They're almost ready to talk emancipation.

The week ahead:

• Tute enrollments tomorrow -- can't wait to have them out of the way and if I don't get my tightly organised timetable, I'm going crotchkicking in the direction of some stupid first-years!
• Ultrasound on Wednesday -- that should be fun...
• DOLLHOUSE ON THURSDAY! -- wholey crap! Muchly anticipated for months and months now, it'd better kick arse
• The weekend? Not sure yet but things have been quiet for a while. I'm thinking maybe volleyball on the beach? With you. Yes, you. Be there or be square. That's right, you'll be a quadrilateral with all congruent sides and all congruent angles. Burned.
  

Great Ice Cream War of '09

Last night was host to what shall now be known as the Great Ice Cream War of '09.

It started when Markus put the last of the blueberries on his ice cream cone. And me eating them when he was distracted.

It ended with two grown men standing in a kitchen that was covered (almost literally) with bits of soggy cone and sticky desert -- not to mention the fact that said substances were also dripping from hair... and in my eye.