Special Sunday

Hello! What did you do on your Special Sunday?

It was National Tree Day today, so off I went with some friends to plant a couple of native trees and grasses at Bundoora Park for the morning. Followed by a u-beut Rotary BBQ of course! It was a rather cold and windy day though, judging by the state of me when I got home I think I may have collected all the top soil in my ears.

This afternoon I started sewing a new dress on my new sewing machine. Hooray! It will be the first dress I have made on this machine, so I am trying very hard to be extra neat and careful so it will be perfect. I am making it out of some sheets I bought at the oppie in Warburton. $7 and I still have plenty of fabric to spare. Sweet.

I ate almonds and a few squares of my Parisian chocolate, I listened to MORE Louis Armstrong as well as some Robbie for old times sake (where is he these days anyway!?!) and I enjoyed the gorgeous smell of roses thanks to my beautiful hubbie-to-be's early morning trip to the shops. I took an afternoon break to read the paper and drink strawberry green tea, and I reasurred Mum that the letter in my last post was fake and merely a prop for me to use to post more old photos. It's ok, I'm not falling victim to cyber-bullying, just trying to be clever is all. Everything is A-OK. Crazy Mumsy. Now I am done for the night and am going to take it easy.

What a lovely Sunday.

27 Birthdays

Dear Bexy
You used to be cool. You used to post about things that were actually kinda interesting sometimes. Now all you post are old pictures of yourself, like we give a shit. You've changed.
Regards,
Not Angry, Just Disappointed

Dear Not Angry
Bite me. Everyone knows that for the two weeks on either side of your birthday it is your birthday festival and it is therefore allowed and encouraged to be all about you. I suggest you go hide under a rock and don't come back until after Thursday, 20 August at which point I'll be back in the real world. Until then, all this talk of birthdays has prompted me to fish out all the photos I have from birthday parties past. There are a few.
Kind regards,
Bexy

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1983

My tax is bad, it's bad, you know it...

Let me preface this by saying - this morning I did my tax while watching MJ on Rage, so at least I've accomplished something ok? Though MJ's coolest film clips were much more enjoyable than e-tax 2009 so I just hope I didn't type 'Billie Jean' anywhere I shouldn't have, you know?

I also did the world's most lame-o house cleaning session too. I was just so NOT in the mood for cleaning, and it was making me kinda angry. You know when you're walking around your apartment muttering to yourself and scowling so hard that when you glimpse yourself in a mirror you stop scowling but still have giant lines between your eyebrows? So you spend the next ten minutes frantically trying to smooth them out by dragging your fingers across your eyebrows really hard which feels so good on your temples? And lord knows, I don't need to be anymore angry than I already have been for the last few days. Though I challenge anyone to get to day 40 (that's right, 4-0) of their menstrual cycle without going somewhat insane in the membrane. F'ing PCOS. But hey, I figure, when I do eventually ovulate next then I will be so mad with nesting fever that I will clean enough for the whole month. As long as the nesting fever lasts long enough for me to finish what I started, my poor homegirls were subjected to the results of a hormone surge gone mad for not quite long enough when they visited earlier in the year. Pretty much every possession in the apartment was thrown in the 'mank room' while I decided exactly where it should be artfully placed. But they never got placed. They stayed. Don't open door number 2.

Anyway, I decided what would make me infinitely happier would be smiling lovingly at all the f'ing awesome birthday presents I have received so far. 5 days til my birthday. Giggedy Giggedy. Maybe gloating over my 'stuff' makes me totally consumer focused and a bad person, but there is love in these presents and that makes me happy!

Wide and macro lens for Diana, plus an awesome ring flash from Mumsy and the sisters!


Cute Parisian tidbits from the BFF in Paris. The girl on the book looks like me! Cute! (You may need to squint slightly. See it now? Me!)


A super excellent gift voucher for some incredible fabric from the BFFs in BrisVegas!


The sewing machine I have been dying for from the husband-to-be!


I even got a free movie ticket from Palace in the mail!

Man, I totally love birthdays. Particularly mine.

I think I have that seasonal disorder thing where after a few months of Winter you get really sad. Lucky I saw (and subsequently bought) in EB Games the other day this sick game where you are a spider or a scorpion and are going across the desert and have to fight other deadly creatures on your quest. That definitely sounds like it would make me happy. That and nachos.

While we've got Louis on the mind...

RIP HellBucket, Series 1 Rx-7. 1979-2009. You will be missed.

(just listen to the amazing Satchmo while you pay your respects, the images aren't important)

Dear HellBucket
HellBucket, over the many years we've known each other, we've rarely seen eye to eye. We bickered, we fought and we generally resented each other's presence in Pete's life. You were hot, temperamental, unreliable, painfully noisy and generally the bane of my existence. My many tantrums about you have seen you kicked, cursed and - some would say a little unfairly - given the moniker HellBucket, which has stuck fondly around since.
You were so low it was impossible to get in and out of you, particularly if I was in heels or you were parked in a gutter - and I didn't even attempt it if those two points were combined.
You were due for new tyres so we could actually make it around a corner in the wet without the wheels spinning madly and us staying in one place, and ever since you were broken into and the stereo was stolen I've had the pleasure of staring at a great big hole full of wires in the middle of the dashboard. Reaching gingerly in, we could press on one wire to turn the interior light on, and another we'd plug an ipod into to miraculously have some tunes in the car. Not that we could ever hear them over your engine noise and the windows down. Your aircon never worked, no matter what we tried, did it HellBucket.
But that said, you were our HellBucket, and we had some great times together. At the very least, now every time I get in the passenger seat of a newer car I feel like I'm in the future, in a space shuttle to the moon. And after so many years sitting at wheel height of the cars on the road around us, now being at eye level with other road users always prompts a "look at me I have a chair" type response.
So, after you broke down on the highway when Pete was on the way to work a few months ago, he got you towed out to the barracks. Turns out that you need a total engine rebuild or something, and turns out we're not going to pay more than your total value to make that happen. So you have been sold to another rotor head Pete works with, and yesterday I found out I'd never see you again. I cried Hellbucket, I really did, some bittersweet tears that you were gone and I never got to say goodbye.
Goodbye HellBucket, I hope the next 30 years of your life will be as good as the last. I hope you find joy with your new family and that you aren't immediately dismantled for parts. Though that would be kinda funny to see you nasty red bitch. I've dedicated this song to you, and just know you will forever be in my heart.

RIP HellBucket, Series 1 Rx-7. 1979-2009. You will be missed.

It's Friday night and there's 16 minutes until the next tram...