Saturday, December 13, 2008

Master Three, Odin, Beliefs and Reality

WOW, so that last post was a bit of a trip. I think I'll do that again sometime. But not now.

It is the smiley monster's third birthday today. He is so cute. The outlaws came over and so did Binn and her daughter. The smiley monster is now the proud owner of a new Buzz and Woody, which he has been longing for desperately - thanks, Binn! Also a Roary the Racing Car DVD (thanks to the outlaws), which he sings incessantly. I hadn't seen it before but I have to say from the bits I've watched today it looks way cool. Also, some other presents for the monster and a good day has been had by all. So far.

I cried a bucket load of tears last night to The Starchild and we managed to avoid a fight. He's no good with emotional displays but it's been a while since I let everything out and I clearly needed to do it. I feel a bit stupid because my feelings are so disproportionate to my current situation, so I guess there are other things going on with me that I need to figure out and worth with. I also guess that makes all this just a case of growing pains. What a crock of shit.

Odin is meant to stop by tomorrow. It is conditional, of course, and for a purpose other than to see me, but I am experiencing child-like excitement over the thought. I would love nothing more at this point to spend the many hours of tomorrow evening partaking in red wine and silly yet deep conversations and I know that is not actually going to be any part of what will happen but that is still what is in my heart. In reality, I'm sure it will be much like the last visit with 30 minutes of lip service with cats bum face perched on the edge of the chair nearest the door. I know it's not acceptable and Odin knows it's not acceptable and you would think with all of the power of the father of the Gods he would be capable of so much more, wouldn't you? But we created the Gods as immortals and then forgot about them so we can't really blame them for forgetting how to be relevant in our lives. Ha, I'm tickled by how well that little analogy fits in this story. That Douglas Adams is such a genius.

There are issues to force that I focused on for such a long time and decided to give up on. I'm older now and probably more apathetic about life as a whole but I am none the less at a cross roads. I need to ask myself "WWWD?" - and am scared that the fact that I don't know the answer to that reminds me that I started to lose myself before I even found myself. The task at hand is therefore all the more difficult but still not impossible. What were the words to the Simon Townsend's Wonder World TV Show theme song?

"If you believe
that anything can happen.
If you believe
that anything is possible, then
you belong with me
so let your mind run free.
If you believe
we're all a little crazy
(a little crazy).
If you believe
in giving everything your best, then
you belong with me
so let your mind run free."

I have to keep reminding myself of that because I am having issues where my reality seems so far removed from my beliefs and I'm sure that's not how it's meant to be.

Enough Automatic Writing.

OK, trying my hands at automatic writing.
This is me, with my eyes closed, just typing.
I don't know if I am a believer in this but I'll willing to give it a go and see what happens.
So, I am connecting.
I have peace.
There is air around me and I am comfortable.
I am alert but relaxed.
I like where I am,
I am ready for a message.
There is nothing in my mind right now.
If I had a mindfulness chant, I would be chanting it now.
Is that sparkles I can see?
Like confetti?
What is the difference between confetti and life?
If I could look at the world with indifference in my eyes, would more my job be appreciated?
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Jack or Sawyer?
The door is lying flat.
This feels like a typing test.
I don't know that there's much point in doing typing tests at this point in time,
I'd really like some help and help is what I shall have.
I am important.
I am worthy,.'
I am loved.
There is nothing in the universe more important to me than me.
There are no excuses.
There are no excuses.
Even if you can't spell.
Or mayhaps I can't type.
Its exciting to see that changes in the world.
We care indeed, fortunately,
I don't know how the whole prayer things works in terms of reality.
Can I really be all that I want to be and still be walking around Big W?
This is the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to me.
I wonder what they did with Ellen,
I know they covered up.
I remember where the past was really the future and we had to work out how the story ended, which was where it started.
Much like Ghost Busters,

Friday, December 12, 2008

100% Full Moon

Way cool.
Sending all positive full moon energy out to everyone!

You're Awesome!

You know who you are - and you're awesome!

Yeah, Well, Whatever

I didn't get the job.

P.S. I Love You - Movie Review

So, I'm premenstrual and feeling like I should want to eat chocolate and watch a bit of a chick-flick. I settle on a movie called "P.S. I Love You", which has been hailed as a howler of a tear jerker with a brilliant cast and all things soppy and wonderful. I buy microwave popcorn and fun size chocolate bars, make a big cup of tea with honey, close the blinds and settle in for a good cry.

But somethings wrong. Even with the smell of popcorn wafting gently from the microwave, the steam rising gentle from my tea cup and the chocolate nicely chilled, I'm just not feeling into it. But a plan is a plan and as they are few and far between these days it is more important that ever to pursue them relentlessly once they are made. So, "Dognabbit," I say to myself (perhaps a little too harshly than is appropriate to be received by one in such an unstable state as I am obviously in to not want to complete this perfectly wonderful and one would think absolutely appropriate plan), "I will be scoffing popcorn and chocolate, drinking tea and crying my stupid fucking eyes out!"

Scene one - two couples fighting. He (Gerard Butler - never heard of him but apparently quite well acclaimed by others who have) has an extremely unconvincing Irish accent that is meant to be charming and irresistible and she (Hilary Swank) is just bloody annoying. The premise of the fight is that he has said to her mother that she isn't ready to have children yet, which apparently something she has said but is still worthy of a tumultuous argument including storming out and make up sex at the end of it. All it all, I found this all too unbelievable, lacking humour where it seemed to be attempting to be funny in a quirky, love-irony kind of a way and with quite poor dialogue and character insights. For what should have be providing the foundations of the dynamics of this couple, it just went on too long and didn't seem to ever reach the points it was trying to aspire to.

Scene two - he's dead and they are holding a traditional Irish wake at her mother's (Kathy Bates - yes, I do like her and she works as per her usual, excellent and convincing standards and I did quite enjoy her scenes) traditional Irish pub (although she is actually American - go figure). Yes, this is outrageously sad and I was a blubbering mess. This scene also introduces Lisa Kudrow as one of two best friends, who is fairly tolerable throughout the movie despite the restrictiveness of the role she has been given to work with. This is also the introduction of Harry Connick Jnr. His character is stupid and poorly developed throughout the movie that you can never quite identify with - perhaps due to the ill-conceived personality that is based on being a person who is medicated for "rudeness" that is poorly explained other than not applying social filters during conversations but translates to nothing more than a few lines that are also meant to be funny but that just fall flat.

And so it goes on. The movie deals with Hilary Swanks' characters dealings with grief over the loss of her husband and is so inexpressibly sad in so many places but is very much ruined by the unbelievability of much of it. Even at the wake - he has been cremated and his ashes are there. And later that night she goes home and calls him mobile repeatedly until she cries herself to sleep just so she can hear his voice for a few brief seconds on his voice mail message but surely his phone would have been disconnected as he died of a brain tumour and new he dying. And how she can lock herself in her apartment for weeks on end and how he organised all sorts of things to happen after he died (singing telegrams, cakes, dry-cleaning, shopping sprees, holidays) when part of the fight in the opening scene was how they didn't have any money.

All in all it was a admittedly a very sad movie but the saddest part of all was in the poor writing. At the end of it I felt very flat and depressed that I had wasted so much time watching and crying over this stupid movie. It was poorly written and required too much release of every day reality to be anything approaching believable. The acting was ok and there were some very nice parts but for me this is a one and a half star movie.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

I Am A Paper Toler

I think the kitchen cleaning helped - either that or the bottle of champers as I was in a much better state of mind today.

Dropped the smiley monster at Binn's then went to the shops to pick up some more supplies for the morning's planned activities. The Kman, the impossible princess and I then made Christmas cards. It was so much fun and I had so many cool things to use. The Kman was quite taken with the embossing kit and went crazy on that for about five cards. I paper toled for the first time and loved it! And the impossible princess did same amazingly well layed out ones as well. All in all it was loads of fun but my kitchen and dining room were no longer anything that resembled tidy once more. But I'd much rather have a real house than a no touch, no fun type house any day.

I then got ready for my second interview, dropped Kman and impossible princess to Binn's (very appreciative to be able to do that) then sank a red bull and pumped out Green Day to get me psyched. Was happy with absolutely everything and should find out by this time next week at the latest as to how I went. I don't know if I will get the job but I do know I did my absolute best and I know that whatever happens from here is meant to be.

While all the craft stuff was out I did a big cleanout of the bottom of the utility cupboard in the kitchen and now have it all back in and even more OCD than before. Might take in a DVD and then troddle off to bed. Think of me and keep your fingers, toes and all of the bits in between crossed for good news soon.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Controlling One's Destiny Through a Clean Kitchen

At 6.15pm tonight, I decided I had had enough. This is how my kitchen looked at that time:

OMG! Yes, you said it, sister. Oh...My...God!

How did this happen? How have I been seating children amongst this mess?

And the dining room:
Messy, hey?

But, just four short hours later (which include cooking, feeding, showering, dressing, playing, toy-room tidying, reading and tucking into bedding, of course), this is what my kitchen looks like:

How shiny is my bench?

The only things still there are The Starchild's stuff and the phone. Pretty good effort, me thinks.

And check out that fridge! I wish I had a before shot so you could see just how dirt resistant those allegedly dirt resistant handles really are!

Cream cleanser is the best cleaner for many household surfaces, particularly stainless steel. Look at what is does to one's sink:

And then there's the dining room:

So now order is born from chaos and I'm sure to have a much more controlled day tomorrow, for tomorrow is quite a big day in my trifling little life. Wish me luck, folks.

Answers, Answers, Answers.

This is due to a pebcak error (problem exists between chair and keyboard). Ahhh, an oldie but a goodie. I still don't know what the problem is but I can deal with this answer.

This is because I am strengthening and breaking physical addictions while the echoes of memory still remain and attempt to undermine my progress. But, in the immortal words of Gloria Gaynor "I will survive".

This is because I am human.

This is also because I am human.

This is because I have kids. Further details on this particular aspect of my life to follow.

I drank it but, yes, I will buy some more. I wish I understood the term "off license".

This is doubt. Doubt has a place in my existence but only as a self-assessment tool. It does not rule, control or drive me. I am fantastic and would be an asset to any company. Assessed, confirmed, end of story.


My life is what it is and regardless of my circumstances it is my choice whether I am motivated, an achiever, tidy and whether I make my bed each day. Funnily enough, out of all of this, I am surest of the last. I know that it is part of who I am to make my bed every day, because a made bed is a half tidy room.

An impostor.



Questions, Questions, Questions.

Why does blogspot keep signing me out when I have checked the remember me box, aren't deleting my cookies and am not signing out manually?

Why could I just not get into the chocolate, popcorn and chick flick that I had planned to enjoy today?

How did I go from traveling reasonably well to almost complete and utter lack of energy in the space of a day?

Why do I cry at the drop of a hat?

How did my kitchen bench get so messy so quickly? Will I ever be able to get it tidy again and if I do, how long will it stay tidy for?

Where did all of the alcohol in the house go? Surely I can't be down to my last bottle. Better stock up on Christmas spirit so I can really get into the Christmas spirit this Christmas (and for the lead-up, of course).

Why do I feel like losing confidence in myself when I truly believe I am fantastic and would be an asset to any company?

Do I really have the energy to keep going each and every day for the rest of my life?

What would my life be like if I didn't have a husband and/or children? Would I be more motivated or less motivated? Would I have achieved twice as much as I have so far or would I have achieved nothing? Would my house be tidy? Would I make my bed each day?

If I wasn't me, who would I be?

Can I really stick to anything?

How will I feel once I have finished this last bottle of alcohol in the house?

And Now For My Next Trick

So, did the whole getting out of bed first go thing ok. I ended up staying up later than planned as just as I climbed in "Dirty, Sexy Money" started so I watched that.

Also, I was in a bit of a quandary when I woke up at 5.25am to go to the bathroom and kept saying to myself "this doesn't count, I don't have to stay up now" until I climbed back into bed and zoned out again.

I'm looking forward to interview tomorrow. I just want things to be determined one way or another. I'm not a particularly patient person at the best of times but getting a job has so much of an influence on a lot of the choices I need to make, such as childcare. If I don't get this one, I will likely have to take Riley out of care and commit to being a home mum.

But, I'll cross that bridge if and when I come to it. For now, I am so enthusiastic about getting this job and as long as it is a possibility I am thinking about it as a fact. I know that sets me up for disappointment but I'm pretty resilient with that stuff so, Ops Mgr at EofE - that's me!

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Tomorrow I Commit To ...

... getting out of bed as soon as I wake up. The alarm is set for 6.43am - more than reasonable, one would have to agree, and potentially even going so far as to say rather generous, me thinks. I may wake up earlier for various reasons, but, when I wake, I will rise.

If I can do that tomorrow, I can do anything!

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a person healthy, wealthy and wise

Explains why I'm such a sick ...


dumb ass, then!

There Is No Charge For Awesomeness

3 x medicare cheques deposited in the bank this morning. Getting about 50% of consultation fees back, so better than a kick in the teeth but would still prefer no-gap bulk billing.

Xmas shopping as well - I love Toy World at Maitland. They have such excellent specials and the staff are just lovely and so helpful - they still live that almost extinct notion of good old fashioned service. Their range is terrific, too - lots of sciency things for the Kman, would have liked to get a few more things for the smiley monster as it is also his birthday on Saturday. Would just about have spend all of the outlaws pressie money so still need to get stuff from The Starchild and I.

Lunch today with Bilbo, another Gourmet Goose success.

Looking forward to second interview on Thursday - ever positive for a great outcome! Blessings for Binn who will also look after the Kman and the impossible princess for a few hours as they finish up at school tomorrow. Remember when that used to be a good thing?

I've lost my kitchen bench somewhere. The last time I tidied it up it was messy again within 2 hours. Its the time of year when the widdies are bringing home all of their stuff from throughout the school year and, of course, I can't throw any of it away. I do have all of the storage boxes sorted so it is so much easier to put everything where it goes rather than have it take up space in the lair.

I watched Meet Dave yesterday. That movie sucks. On the other hand, I watched Kung Fu Panda on the weekend and that movie rocks. My favourite quote at the minute is "There is no charge for awesomeness."

Monday, December 8, 2008

The Electric Monk

From Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams

High on a rocky promontory sat an Electric Monk on a bored horse. From under its rough woven cowl the Monk gazed unblinkingly down into another valley, with which it was having a problem.

The day was hot, the sun stood in an empty hazy sky and beat down upon the gray rocks and the scrubby, parched grass. Nothing moved, not even the Monk. The horse's tail moved a little, swishing slightly to try and move a little air, but that was all. Otherwise, nothing moved.

The Electric Monk was a labour-saving device, like a dishwasher or a video recorder. Dishwashers washed tedious dishes for you, thus saving you the bother of washing them yourself, video recorders watched tedious television for you, thus saving you the bother of looking at it yourself; Electric Monks believed things for you, thus saving you what was becoming an increasingly onerous task, that of believing all the things the world expected you to believe.

Unfortunately this Electric Monk had developed a fault, and had started to believe all kinds of things, more or less at random. It was even beginning to believe things they'd have difficulty believing in Salt Lake City. It had never heard of Salt Lake City, of course. Nor had it ever heard of a quingigillion, which was roughly the number of miles between this valley and the Great Salt Lake of Utah.

The problem with the valley was this. The Monk currently believed that the valley and everything in the valley and around it, including the Monk itself and the Monk's horse, was a uniform shade of pale pink. This made for a certain difficulty in distinguishing any one thing from any other thing, and therefore made doing anything or going anywhere impossible, or at least difficult and dangerous. Hence the immobility of the Monk and the boredom of the horse, which had had to put up with a lot of silly things in its time but was secretly of the opinion that this was one of the silliest.

How long did the Monk believe these things?

Well, as far as the Monk was concerned, forever. The faith which moves mountains, or at least believes them against all the available evidence to be pink, was a solid and abiding faith, a great rock against which the world could hurl whatever it would, yet it would not be shaken. In practice, the horse knew, twenty-four hours was usually about its lot.

So what of this horse, then, that actually held opinions, and was sceptical about things? Unusual behaviour for a horse, wasn't it? An unusual horse perhaps?

No. Although it was certainly a handsome and well-built example of its species, it was none the less a perfectly ordinary horse, such as convergent evolution has produced in many of the places that life is to be found. They have always understood a great deal more than they let on. It is difficult to be sat on all day, every day, by some other creature, without forming an opinion on them.

On the other hand, it is perfectly possible to sit all day, every day, on top of another creature and not have the slightest thought about them whatsoever.

When the early models of these Monks were built, it was felt to be important that they be instantly recognisable as artificial objects. There must be no danger of their looking at all like real people. You wouldn't want your video recorder lounging around on the sofa all day while it was watching TV. You wouldn't want it picking its nose, drinking beer and sending out for pizzas.

So the Monks were built with an eye for originality of design and also for practical horse-riding ability. This was important. People, and indeed things, looked more sincere on a horse. So two legs were held to be both more suitable and cheaper than the more normal primes of seventeen, nineteen or twenty-three; the skin the Monks were given was pinkish-looking instead of purple, soft and smooth instead of crenellated. They were also restricted to just one mouth and nose, but were given instead an additional eye, making for a grand total of two. A strange looking creature indeed. But truly excellent at believing the most preposterous things.

This Monk had first gone wrong when it was simply given too much to believe in one day. It was, by mistake, cross-connected to a video recorder that was watching eleven TV channels simultaneously, and this caused it to blow a bank of illogic circuits. The video recorder only had to watch them, of course. It didn't have to believe them as well. This is why instruction manuals are so important.

So after a hectic week of believing that war was peace, that good was bad, that the moon was made of blue cheese, and that God needed a lot of money sent to a certain box number, the Monk started to believe that thirty-five percent of all tables were hermaphrodites, and then broke down. The man from the Monk shop said that it needed a whole new motherboard, but then pointed out that the new improved Monk Plus models were twice as powerful, had an entirely new multi-tasking Negative Capability feature that allowed them to hold up to sixteen entirely different and contradictory ideas in memory simultaneously without generating any irritating system errors, were twice as fast and at least three times as glib, and you could have a whole new one for less than the cost of replacing the motherboard of the old model.

That was it. Done.

The faulty Monk was turned out into the desert where it could believe what it liked, including the idea that it had been hard done by. It was allowed to keep its horse, since horses were so cheap to make.

For a number of days and nights, which it variously believed to be three, forty-three, and five hundred and ninety-eight thousand seven hundred and three, it roamed the desert, putting its simple Electric trust in rocks, birds, clouds, and a form of non-existent elephant-asparagus, until at last it fetched up here, on this high rock, overlooking a valley that was not, despite the deep fervour of the Monk's belief, pink. Not even a little bit.

Time passed.


"The stars above guide me, the moonlight is free.
A feeling inside me, and the whole world to see.
Driving fast makes me feel good.
The speed of light trapped under my hood.
Breaking laws, 'cause there's nothing to do.
Driving the interstate, stopped for a 502"

Yeah, ok - i love driving fast, but I do it too much these days and it's not really the fun kind of driving fast. It's usually the disorganised, harried kind of driving fast. So, i am making a commitment to either be organised or be late, no more driving fast. That's just not what life's about!


Seriously contemplating transformation here. May be ready to take the next step. Have an urge to purge beforehand though!