Pass the powder...

I'm a-goin skiing!

Will be back late Sunday... klutziness allowing...

Go Hawks. Thrash those Bombers.

Fingers crossed Freo... Eagles are on a losing streak - you may just have a chance.

xox

Eleven

Just realised... today is the 11th anniversay of my dad's death. I can't believe its been that long.

I hope he's not looking down from wherever he is and saying "shit - what the hell is she doing with her life".

Or if he is, I hope he's got a bloody good bottle of scotch beside him.

Love ya dad. Miss ya.

xox

Back in Black

Yes lovely peeps, the shiny black locks are back. Well... mostly. I just discovered a few patches of red, a couple of lightish brown strips and a few miscellaneous stripey areas, but at least my hair is no longer orange at the roots and burgundy on the ends. I can go out in public again and not feel like an orange-haired idiot who can't even blame her rotten hair colour on some crappy apprentice who mixed the colour wrong.

I just can't really pull it back in a ponytail cos then you'll see all the mistakes. And the bits just above my ears that are still... what's the colour... ummmm... canary yellow. Yes. Those bits must remain hidden for a bit until my hair is recovered enough to be attacked with the (dark brown or black) dye again.

Thank you hair. I know I put you through a lot. Your protest at my idea of going lighter (ie turning orange) is duly noted and I promise that should I ever toy with the idea of going lighter again I will consult a professional and not put you through the hell you have been put through in the last week. I will not take the cheap option and do it myself. You will not be laughed at in the pub, nor will you ever have to hear again the comment that orangey red hair does not match well with my wardrobe (which is predominantly pink).

Those of you who sided with my hair and protested against my lightening attempts, I also thank you for your concern and advice and agree that I should have listened to you in the first place. I would ask that next time (because I assure you there will be one, when the memory of chemicals burning into my scalp has dwindled away) you physically restrain me from entering a chemist or supermarket and purchasing hair dye. I'm willing to do one of those self-exclusion things like they do in the pokie rooms if you think that's the only way I'll be able to prevent myself from repeating these acts of stupidity.

So now I can go out in public again. Hurrah. A play at the Fitz tomorrow night, a morning at the beauticians on Thursday (there are some things involving hot wax which even I am not stupid enough to attempt at home) and then on Thursday afternoon its off to Thredbo for 3 days of skiing. Yipppeeeeee!! I hope I remember how to ski. The last time I skiied was when I was in France. And that was in 1999. Shit. Am I really that old? Are there two i's in skiied or one? Skied. Skiied. Hmmm... not sure. Opinions welcome. Anyway, I'm very excited. I've never skiied in Australia (they don't have snow in Adelaide so my first experience of snow/skiing was when I lived in the US). But I'm renowned for being a tad on the klutzy side ("no really, those bruises are self-inflicted") so I'm not sure how much time will actually be spent swooshing down the mountain and how much time will be spent on my ass wondering how I didn't spot that tree stump/small child/chair lift.

I'm also excited that all the smug marrieds are leaving their men/babies/pets/inhibitions at home so I'm hoping they'll be up for a huge one. Although I'll probably be the lame one who goes to bed at 9pm smelling of tiger balm, with a cup of cocoa and The Rachel Papers (just started it yesterday... thanks for the Martin Amis recommendation Cotton) while they go nuts on the apres ski and consume masses of schnapps and sing bad karaoke.

I really hope I remember how to ski...

D-I-My

Good day, bad day. More good than bad though which is nice.

My Hawks lost to Brisbane by 41 points. We were with them in the first half - I was even getting hopeful - but yet again we were unable to sustain the momentum through the final quarter. If only Croad's kicking was straighter. Or Crawford wiped all that hair product off his hands before the game so the ball wouldn't slip through them quite so often. At least we're only second bottom.

This afternoon Flatmate B (who is a bit of a greenthumb and has a balcony of pots to prove it) decided to green up the downstairs area of our house and dragged me along to Bunnings. F*** I love that place. All those power tools. The smell of fertilizer mixed with timber. Aisle upon aisle of useless gadgets designed for the gullible DIY-er. And everything is so bloody cheap! I knew I had absolutely no reason to purchase anything from there but god it's fun wandering around! Of course not needing to buy anything didn't stop me from actually buying stuff...

So we bought a shiteload of plants (10 pots of pretty flowers for $20!), a bamboo screen to stop people from peering through the fence as they're walking past our house (if I'm home alone watching TV semi-naked I don't really appreciate people walking past and doing a double take), and my bargain buy, a mega variety pack of picture hooks for $3. Three dollars! Brilliant.

Then we came home and went nuts fixing and potting and digging and attaching. Anyone who's been to our house will not recognise the front patio when you next pop by. Flatmate B's boyfriend even went crazy and fixed the electrics so we have a working doorbell. Sweet.

I'm liking having heaps of greenery around me in the house. I curled up in the big red chair to read a book and instead of a bland wall there's a big yucca plant sitting next to me. Awesome. I just have to remember to water them. I should tattoo that on my hand... I'll probably forget.

Now before I go... big hugs to Lulu (currently touring a kid's show in the land of the long white cloud) who sms'd me last night to say she reads my blog... its not that I don't love ya Cotton but its nice to know you're not the only one who reads me.

That's about it for now.

xox

Boo

A young American girl came to see the upstairs show tonight. Her name was Harper Lee. Either she was taking the piss or her parents were. I was too shy to ask her.

But I thought her name was cool.

If only my parents had been more imaginative. Maybe then I wouldn't have ended up with the same first name as ten of my classmates in the eighth grade. Maybe I would have been named after someone important.

I wonder what her writing skills are like?

Shot through the heart

I went to see a play about love last night. Blue Love. Not sure why it was blue, but it was. Its on at the Opera House, but only until Sunday. Flatmate A works there, so got us freebies. Gotta love that.

I didn't quite get some of it at first but then I realised that I just needed to stop trying to make sense of it and just sit back and enjoy it, so I did. The last bit was especially funny - I won't spoil it for you (all 1 of you that actually read this blog) but song lyrics were involved and I laughed loudly.

Which was good, because given the title I was literally dragged kicking and screaming to this show. I had threatened to walk out if it turned out to be all lovey-dovey, couples are great, blah effing blah. Thankfully it wasn't. Bits of it were even quite cynical. I like cynical. Hell I am cynical.

I'm over love (for the next 5 mins). My only attempt at love this year was - how should I put it - Disastrous. With a capital D. We're talking Titanic-type disaster. The type where you end up beating yourself around the head with a pillow screaming "why do I bother? why do i always fall for emotional f***wits and commitment phobes?" (by the way, thank you Bridget Jones for that terminology... and also for the term 'Smug Marrieds').

I have many Smug Married friends. Thankfully they gave up trying to set me up with their other single friends ("he's single and so are you, so you're perfect for each other") after I threatened to take out full-page ads in national newspapers calling them abusive smug-marrieds-who-were-secretly-unhappy-with-their-own-lives-so-tried-to-set-up-their-single-friends-with-inappropriate-men, if they ever tried to set me up again.

Now I know I'm not perfect. I'm not very easily pidgeon-holed... I've been told I'm high maintenance but I don't think I am (which is probably the worst kind). I'm not stunning looking (I'm no Angelina Jolie) but I think I'm reasonably attractive (I get told that I look like Sandra Bullock and she's not ugly). I'm work in the arts but I also love football (and according to our new premier you can't like both). My favourite item of clothing is a girly pink blouse but my favourite shoes are my converse trainers. I love Rufus Wainwright's last album but I also own some early Motley Crue albums (on vinyl, no less). I like to spend money (and would like to have more of it) but I hate yuppies and people who assess your worth based on how much you earn. I am usually pretty happy and outgoing but sometimes I'm moody and withdrawn. I can be totally confident but I can also be painfully shy. I want to find love, but I'm not willing to change who I am just so someone will love me back.

My greatest fear is not that I will end up alone but that I will do what some of my friends seem to have done and settle for the wrong guy.

I think I need therapy... or a bloody good role (instead of the shite i was offered the other day, but that's another post altogether).

And for the Hawks to beat the Lions this weekend.

xox

Hello???

Does anyone actually read this blog?*

Just wondering...




* except Cotton - he's posted comments so he must read it every now and then

Don't Try This At Home Children...

Sometimes I wish I had a parent or guardian present when I attempt to do dangerous/utterly stupid things.

Like colouring my hair.

"Remember when you tried to go blonde in high school and it went orange? That will probably happen again" (it did)

"And remember when you decided you wanted a perm so your hair would look like Michael Hutchence's, but you ended up looking like Leo Sayer and then had to get a haircut like Annie Lennox?" (rest assured I learned from that one)

There's a reason they wouldn't let me take chemistry in high school. They knew the havoc I would wreak.

I shouldn't be allowed near chemicals*. Someone remind me in future.


* except for the fun party variety

Oh shit...

I didn't think it could get worse.

It did.

I may have to call in the professionals.

Thank god I don't have any castings this week.

Disasters...

Its that time of the year where I get all depressed because my team yet again has no chance of making even the top of the bottom eight. Thankfully we're not bottom (yet) so I won't be sticking my head in the oven any time soon, but I'm afraid I will no longer be talking football. Self preservation measure. Sorry to those of you who only read this to see a girl talk footy. Come back when the Wizard Cup starts up again. Or if teams I like make the grand final. Or we make a last ditch effort to improve our standing.

Last night we came 4th at pub trivia. We would have come 3rd if I'd stopped drinking and concentrated on one of the questions that I actually knew the answer to, but dismissed as unimportant/irrelevant. Bloody Rhodesia.

This morning I tried lightening my hair but all I did was lighten the roots (even in the inner west, light brown-red roots and black ends is not a good look). So I had to make a mad dash to the chemist for another box of dye (wearing a cap so the shop assistant wouldn't laugh at my first attempt) and I'm sitting here with the second lot of dye eating into my scalp. Cross your fingers. And if you see me wearing a hat to work tonight don't ask questions.

Then this morning's brunch/girls shopping trip with my best friend got cancelled because she got called to a meeting. Probably just as well considering the hair disaster but disappointing nonetheless.

Oh and then my favourite mirror fell off the chest of drawers and smashed the benetint. That stuff isn't marketed as the best cheek "stain" for nothing you know... yoiks. On white carpet too.

And its only 11am.

Its not Friday 13th or April Fools or something is it?

Timer's just gone off... wish me luck.

xox