Shirt? $90
Colour? Awesome
Comment? You look like a checkout chick in that.
Reaction = FAIL.
Ok, I'm loving certain aspects of this whole smaller-town deal. People are much nicer, rush hour means slowing down to the speed limit, and if you smile nicely bus drivers will drop you right at your front door.
There are, however, a couple of things I'm having trouble with. Let me re-introduce you to small town life.
1. Everyone knows who you are ... and what you did last night.
Now, I'm very tall, very smiley, and not exactly someone you'd class as a wallflower. Wandering in to buy milk and having someone ask how I feel, however, is something relatively new. Especially if I stayed in last night. And I'm at Coles.
2. Gossip is everything.
Ooh, baby, I love gossip. I just didn't need to know that they did that. Brain bleach? Aisle seven. Yoga classes? Apparently, aisle twelve.
3. Oh hon, you don't need to drive.
There's plenty of public transport. You might have to wait a bit, and things might be randomly cancelled... but the drivers are just lovely, and everything's quite clean. Just watch out for those drunk teenagers. And hey, if you have to wait, you can always catch up on that missed hour's sleep - those benches are pretty comfy. If you're really tired, let the staion master know and he'll wake you up.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Student Life
One of the hardest things to get used to I've found about playing at student life is the complete lack of disposable funds.
Now, I'm dreadful with money. I can make it alright, but keeping it has always been kind of beyond me. To be very honest, part of this student-life experiment is to see how well I can manage against that. Life lessons, ahoy!
Anyway. Money + me = fun but transient.
So. I'm on a couple of hundred dollars a week, drive a lovely old car (the air works, I'm happy), and live in what is essentially glorified student housing.
Best. Experiment. Ever.
There are plenty of things I wish I could do, and far, far more things I've always taken for granted. The freedom to go splash money on friends, for example, or the ability to buy a book that I'll finish in a day and pick up again six months later. Or to impulse buy, to pick up new shoes, new clothes, new toys, new shiny things.
One of the things that suffers most, I've found, is the freedom to not-think about things. To be a bit lazy. A bottle of wine, for example, is $12 at the store and $30 at my local. Petrol is a few cents cheaper half a k out of my way. The cafe on the corner offers better deals than the one down the road.
The ambiance, quite often, isn't the same. A bottle of wine with a friend is wonderful regardless of place, but a glass of wine at home isn't always as fun as one out. (....though, to be fair, a glass of wine enjoyed in a bath is only acceptable in very certain places). The corner cafe might not be as lovely as the other, but be better than the $35 place by the foreshore.
On the upside, though, I've found out all sorts of things about myself I'd never have known. Nigella is my new goddess, and it turns out I love to cook. I can iron a shirt like nobody's business. Libraries = awesome. Laying out in the sun, on the grass, with a book? Quite possibly heaven.
There are all sorts of things I still need to learn. All kinds of things that play differently to how they do in my head.
And I can't think of anything more terrifying, or more exciting.
Let's see how it goes, hey?
Now, I'm dreadful with money. I can make it alright, but keeping it has always been kind of beyond me. To be very honest, part of this student-life experiment is to see how well I can manage against that. Life lessons, ahoy!
Anyway. Money + me = fun but transient.
So. I'm on a couple of hundred dollars a week, drive a lovely old car (the air works, I'm happy), and live in what is essentially glorified student housing.
Best. Experiment. Ever.
There are plenty of things I wish I could do, and far, far more things I've always taken for granted. The freedom to go splash money on friends, for example, or the ability to buy a book that I'll finish in a day and pick up again six months later. Or to impulse buy, to pick up new shoes, new clothes, new toys, new shiny things.
One of the things that suffers most, I've found, is the freedom to not-think about things. To be a bit lazy. A bottle of wine, for example, is $12 at the store and $30 at my local. Petrol is a few cents cheaper half a k out of my way. The cafe on the corner offers better deals than the one down the road.
The ambiance, quite often, isn't the same. A bottle of wine with a friend is wonderful regardless of place, but a glass of wine at home isn't always as fun as one out. (....though, to be fair, a glass of wine enjoyed in a bath is only acceptable in very certain places). The corner cafe might not be as lovely as the other, but be better than the $35 place by the foreshore.
On the upside, though, I've found out all sorts of things about myself I'd never have known. Nigella is my new goddess, and it turns out I love to cook. I can iron a shirt like nobody's business. Libraries = awesome. Laying out in the sun, on the grass, with a book? Quite possibly heaven.
There are all sorts of things I still need to learn. All kinds of things that play differently to how they do in my head.
And I can't think of anything more terrifying, or more exciting.
Let's see how it goes, hey?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Rescue Ink
You know how every so often you stumble on something that really tugs at your heartstrings? Be warned, this is one of these things.
I read some of the forums over at TWOP and actually looked at this thinking it was something to do with fixing up tattoos. You know, misspelled names, drunken dirty cartoon characters, symbols that are meant to mean "peace" or whatever but are really menu items. Then they'd get a big lecture on not doing stupid crap and everyone would go out for pancakes.
Ooh, actually, that's a great idea for a show. I'd totally watch that.
So. Not that. This is about a group of rough, tough, blue-d and tattoed bikers. Who rescue animals. A lot.
And the more you read, the more incredible this is. These guys look like people you'd cross the road to avoid. They be scary. And they spend their time investigating claims of animal abuse, cruelty, and mistreatment. Check out this excerpt from their website.
...........................
Rebel
Originally named
“Ribbons” because of his tattered, shredded ears, this red-nosed pit bull was found as a stray in Kentucky after a suspected dog-fighting ring had been busted. The ligature marks on his legs and nose suggested he had been bound and used as a “bait dog” to train fighting dogs; his ears were severely infected and oozing pus. Hearing the pit bull’s tragic story, Joe and G spent 16 hours in the air on four-seater plane rides organized by Animal Rescue Flights to bring him to the Rescue Ink clubhouse, and a new life of hope.
Despite the horrors he has endured at the hands of humans, Rebel is a shining example of the remarkable ability of animals to forgive and live in the moment. He is the official Rescue Ink mascot, his scarred face and muscle-bound body embodying the truism that you should never judge a book by its cover.
Pinz
Pinz – named for the bowling-alley fund-raiser that took place around the time Rescue Ink took her in – was brought to the New York City municipal shelter to be euthanized because her eyes were bulging and she was walking in circles. Veterinarians concluded that the 4-year-old long-haired Chihuahua mix had neurological problems that likely resulted from blunt-force trauma to her head.
Today, Pinz has more than doubled her weight, will follow sounds and movement, and will walk in a straight line with encouragement. Whenever the Rescue Ink members gather, whether at a meeting in their clubhouse or a rescue event, tiny Pinz is there, gingerly passed from one set of burly arms to another.
...............
Holy crap, isn't that terrible? But just picture these big-ass scary looking guys terrifying the daylights out of the guy treating the dog that way. Makes me smile every time.
Now, I love animals. I'm an absolute sucker for them. As I write this, my neighbour's cat is twining her way around my ankles after conning me out of half a sandwich. And I really, really hate people who mistreat them.
An awful lot of the time, it seems that people who deliberatly mistreat animals think of themselves as tough. Hard asses. And the image of these guys - REAL tough guys - coming on up and (verbally) smacking these tools down is freaking wonderful.
It's not just dogs that they help, either. Cats, birds, horses, tiny little kittens, livestock, roosters.... essentially, if something can't help itself they'll take a shot at helping.
So. Thank you, men (and woman) of Rescue Ink. You've helped bolster my faith in humanity, tugged at my heartstrings, and made me cry a little. I hope you're happy!
Seriously, though. These guys make me proud to be an animal lover.
If you'd like to find out more, please check out their website.
Rescue Ink
I read some of the forums over at TWOP and actually looked at this thinking it was something to do with fixing up tattoos. You know, misspelled names, drunken dirty cartoon characters, symbols that are meant to mean "peace" or whatever but are really menu items. Then they'd get a big lecture on not doing stupid crap and everyone would go out for pancakes.
Ooh, actually, that's a great idea for a show. I'd totally watch that.
So. Not that. This is about a group of rough, tough, blue-d and tattoed bikers. Who rescue animals. A lot.
And the more you read, the more incredible this is. These guys look like people you'd cross the road to avoid. They be scary. And they spend their time investigating claims of animal abuse, cruelty, and mistreatment. Check out this excerpt from their website.
...........................
Rebel
Originally named
“Ribbons” because of his tattered, shredded ears, this red-nosed pit bull was found as a stray in Kentucky after a suspected dog-fighting ring had been busted. The ligature marks on his legs and nose suggested he had been bound and used as a “bait dog” to train fighting dogs; his ears were severely infected and oozing pus. Hearing the pit bull’s tragic story, Joe and G spent 16 hours in the air on four-seater plane rides organized by Animal Rescue Flights to bring him to the Rescue Ink clubhouse, and a new life of hope.
Despite the horrors he has endured at the hands of humans, Rebel is a shining example of the remarkable ability of animals to forgive and live in the moment. He is the official Rescue Ink mascot, his scarred face and muscle-bound body embodying the truism that you should never judge a book by its cover.
Pinz
Pinz – named for the bowling-alley fund-raiser that took place around the time Rescue Ink took her in – was brought to the New York City municipal shelter to be euthanized because her eyes were bulging and she was walking in circles. Veterinarians concluded that the 4-year-old long-haired Chihuahua mix had neurological problems that likely resulted from blunt-force trauma to her head.
Today, Pinz has more than doubled her weight, will follow sounds and movement, and will walk in a straight line with encouragement. Whenever the Rescue Ink members gather, whether at a meeting in their clubhouse or a rescue event, tiny Pinz is there, gingerly passed from one set of burly arms to another.
...............
Holy crap, isn't that terrible? But just picture these big-ass scary looking guys terrifying the daylights out of the guy treating the dog that way. Makes me smile every time.
Now, I love animals. I'm an absolute sucker for them. As I write this, my neighbour's cat is twining her way around my ankles after conning me out of half a sandwich. And I really, really hate people who mistreat them.
An awful lot of the time, it seems that people who deliberatly mistreat animals think of themselves as tough. Hard asses. And the image of these guys - REAL tough guys - coming on up and (verbally) smacking these tools down is freaking wonderful.
It's not just dogs that they help, either. Cats, birds, horses, tiny little kittens, livestock, roosters.... essentially, if something can't help itself they'll take a shot at helping.
So. Thank you, men (and woman) of Rescue Ink. You've helped bolster my faith in humanity, tugged at my heartstrings, and made me cry a little. I hope you're happy!
Seriously, though. These guys make me proud to be an animal lover.
If you'd like to find out more, please check out their website.
Rescue Ink
Saturday, October 31, 2009
In an effort to stop scaring small children with the extreme paleness of my skin, I spent a lovely couple of hours stretched out under a tree in Islington park with a book and a couple of cold drinks.
I'm calling it healthy. There was fresh air, that counts!
So. Things I have learnt today...
1. Tanning doesn't work real well in the shade. Surprise!
2. When finding a suitable place to sit, slopes do not bode well for keeping things in bottles IN the bottles.
3. Magpies do not like sudden movements. This is both scary and hilarious.
4. Not all groundskeepers are called Willie. Also, they will not let you drive their tractors.
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