Hellooo. Is there anybody out there?

So I'm feeling well enough to go out, and strong enough to be social, and I've dyed my hair and tried on clothes.
And it seems like everyone's having a quiet one tonight.

It's been so long since I've been out that I don't even know if Girls on Top is a viable option these days. But hey, I'm so keen to go out that I'd even go to Moist or Deck Bar.

What I'd really love to check out is Faggle Rock (Fridays at Phoenix). Oh how wonderful it would be to dance in a different way to some different music. I love my usual DJs, sure I do. But a change could be mighty refreshing.
Wonder if they'll throw in a little brit pop to make me feel like a teenager again. Though even the idea of listening/dancing to 'I wanna be adored' in Phoenix is enough world colliding to make my brain hurt.

So tonight... I've just put on my ugh boots and fired up the 'puter (obviously) - so odds are, if I start getting comfy, the phone should ring soon with someone keen to go out for a drink.

Tomorrow looks promising. I'm going to meet up with my sister for coffee and then join the April Fool's fun of the Renegade Parade. There's also Bouncy Messy Stupid happening at Perry Park for those with an inkling to continue dancing in crazy ways.

Now. What to wear that can go from straight girl coffee to street party to psytrance. At least the weather looks like it'll be perfect for April Fools' frolicking.
Geez I wish the streets weren't awash with polka dot girls. I'm feeling in a polka dot mood too.

Perhaps I'll channel tonights excitable energy into something crafty.

Hmm. Not likely.

Pud pud pud

In the time it took to talk to my beau on the phone this evening, my latest culinary adventure cooked in the oven.
It was pulled out of the oven just after Mr Z was in the door, hence guaranteeing that I wouldn't be the only one eating it. *phew*

Using 3 different cookbooks I made bread and butter pudding - well, minus the butter.
And minus the double cream, 5 of the eggs, half of the sugar, and a slew of other ingredients that I deemed unnecessary.
And I added bananas and frangelico.
The pudding seemed to survive. It certainly tasted good enough that the dogs didn't get any.

I'm not very good at following recipes to the letter.
Next time I'm going to add some warm winter spices.

Yeay for winter-baking-goodness!

40

1)My uncle once: was on the Mardi Gras board.

2)Never in my life: have I got a filling in my teeth.

3)When I was five: I had a red Globite school case and two long pigtails.

4)High School was: quite fun really.

5)I will never forget: the sound of my fathers’ voice.

6)I once met: a man with no arms who had a backhoe business and ran a recording studio.

7)There’s this girl I know who: has ice-blue eyes and half-moon breasts and clear freckled skin and a large scar on her right thigh.

8)Once, at a bar: I realised I don’t like drinking with straight people much.

9)By noon I’m usually: eating.

10)Last night: I, for some reason I cannot fathom, tossed and turned all night. Odd. I normally sleep really well.

11)If I had only: kissed her.

12)Next time I go to church: it will be only because it will someone else happy.

13)Terry Schiavo: is a name from a newspaper story.

14)What worries me most: is often what other people think of me.

15)When I turn my head left, I see: a mosquito net.

16)When I turn my head right I see: a dot painting that my boyfriend painted for me.

17)You know I’m lying when: I’m not laughing telling that story. Well, that or it's a sad story.

18)You know what I miss most about the eighties: is my mothers’ purple hair.

19) If I was a character written by Shakespeare: I’d be a secondary character. They always seem to have the best lines.

20) By this time, next year: I hope I’ll have a better idea of where my life is heading.

21) A better name for me would be: impossible to find.

22) I have a hard time understanding: how the world works.

23) If I ever go back to school I’ll: actually try and remember things.

24) You know I like you if: I laugh at your jokes, and close my eyes when I’m dancing near you.

25) If I won an award, the first person I’d thank would be: Mr M.

26) Darwin, Mozart, Slim Pickens & Einstein: are all dead.

27) Take my advice, never: tell a picture book to a child without reading the whole thing yourself first. Never ever.

28) My ideal breakfast is: a large good coffee, yoghurt, toast, sunshine, people watching, reading the paper with Mr M.

29) A song I love, but do not have is: that flashdance one

30) If you visit my hometown, I suggest: you leave town and head for the hills! No seriously. The surrounding mountains are the best part about the area.

31) Tulips, character flaws, microchips & track stars are all: in this sentence.

32) Why won’t anyone: cast a spell and turn little johnnys’ kids into screaming political queers.

33) If you spend the night at my house, don’t: stay up late playing loud music while I’m trying to sleep. Actually any loud noises will get you death glares if I have to work the next day.

34) I’d stop my wedding for: the right reasons.

35) The world could do without: yobbo prat boys.

36) I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: eat a pork dinner.

37) My favorite blonds are: *edit; it’s spelt ‘blondes’, okay*

38) Paper clips are more useful than: incense holders.

39) If I do anything well its: hold an audience of children in the palm of my hand with a story.

40) And by the way: I love to dance

2 years ago today

I met the cutest trannyboy ever - the one my girlfriend didn't want to introduce me to because she thought I'd run away with him.

I fitted under his arm 'just so'.

He walked me home (I giggled all the way) and gave me a kiss goodnight.

Happy anniversary Mr M!

*************

In other news - today's theme has also been Bollywood.

We had a Bollywood dance class in the Library. I had all my bangles on and ran around putting Bindis on all the managers. We had over 60 people there from absolutely all walks of life - old North Shore ladies, toddlers with disabilities, blokes in suits, schoolkids, secretaries, dads with babies, the General Manager, a couple of pregnant ladies, and so many more.

And we had Indian food and sweets. Gulab Jamun, Jalebi, Karachi Halwa... 20 different ways to cook with chickpea flour, sugar, milk, sugar, nuts and sugar!

Then for dinner, Mr M took me out to Indian, and we had Thali and Dosa and then foolishly bought more sweets!
I left them in the fridge at home.
I hope Mr Z eats them.
Except maybe 1 Gulab Jamun.
I love them so.
My Da made them often when I was a kid. And tasting them takes me straight back to the kitchen up north. Wooden floors, old glass-doored cupboards with bakelite handles, the big saucepan of syrup on the wood combustion stove and the afternoon sun baking the room through the windows.

Christ. And I hear it's going to rain again tomorrow here in Sydney.
*sighs*

2 years ago today

small delights and worries

Finding a new blog of someone whose writing is on a subject you can be interested in, who writes things you find yourself wanting to comments on, and whose entries are regular and substantial...
...It's like finding a new author whose written more than the one book that you enjoyed.
There is a similar measure of joy in it.

Yes, there is the lack of the joy of actually holding the physical book.
But, sometimes, missing that physicality can be made up by the strange thrill created by recognising the blog author as someone whose name you see on the periphery of your life.

Having said that, I wonder how rude it is of me to not tell people I read their works, or not to indulge in the 'friending' that some circles of people have.
Like my 'real life' social world. I worry that people code my 'stand-offishness' as something ruder than just not being very comfortable with some interractions.

On a more frivolous note (but also related to my anxieties) I shall brave the docs tomorrow to see why this infernal cough is hanging around. This girl is getting sick of early nights, and moping, pale and wan, about the house. To be well enough for a dress-up and dance would be a wonderful thing.

Stop talking and breathe.

Today, in response to posts on a list I'm on, I got all wound up and wrote a huge rant.
I really should edit it a bit so it's readable.

So look on the bright side, kiddies, I was going to post it here, but have decided against it - it's too late at night (for me okay) and I need to chill instead.

So have a poem instead.
Everyone needs a little poetry in their life.

Jenny kiss'd me

Jenny kiss'd me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have miss'd me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kiss'd me.

-Leigh Hunt
1784 - 1859

coughing and cleaning

At home alone with my cough, I started going through lots of boxes of belongings today.
These are things I've put in a box when an urgent cleanup was needed, and then not opened for months or often years.
If I was feeling cocky about it I'd say it was a bit like Warhol's 'time capsules'.
The problem however, is that clearing through the amazing variety of objects became an emotional rollercoaster ride of sorts (though I did try and avoid most photos - in today's fragile state they would've undone me).

I now have piles throughout the room of:
- tools
- crafty scraps (material, ribbon, leather, electronics components)
- jewellery/make-up/hair things
- paper and magazines
- jewellery-making equipment
- things that belong to other people
- things to go to vinnies, etc
- rubbish
- books
- letters / postcards / cards
- art supplies
- computer stuff
- receipts / warranties / bank statements
- things that friends might like to have
- things I don't know what I'll do with them

I believe I have reduced the overall volume of 'stuff'.
Now I have to find real homes for all of these things.

So bad...

Yep folks. It's bad librarian pun day...
I love my "Librarians do it quietly" shirt [from here]. It often gets comments from strangers at bus stops and in cafes.

But here are some other dodgy ones courtesy of cafe press...

"Librarians are novel lovers"

"Stacked Librarian"

"Book slut"

"Check me out...I'm a Librarian"

"Librarians give it away for free"

This one I just don't get. Geez, you can even get it on kiddies clothes. Is it just me, or is this a bit weird?

Here are some that I could wear...

"For a well rounded education, you could try curling up with some good books, and bad librarians" -Richard Needham.

"I'm a Librarian. If you have a library card I know your phone number and where you live" *grins* this fits in nicely with the quiet menace of my 'Walk softly and carry a heavy book' policy.

And the snortingly wonderful "Ha ha. Made you read!"

And finally, this is cute, and this isn't too bad either.
The latter one has now inspired me to go and try and find that page of nekkid librarians* that I found years ago. I'll post another time if I'm successful.

*well, yes, I do doubt all the models have their LIS qualifications :-)

Miscellany

In one of the bookshops that I visited today I came across a cute shop assistant that looked and sounded just like Daria. Yum.
And in the next bookshop was a Japanese guy whose girlfriend works with the girlfriend of my ex-boyfriend. Odd.
And in the last bookshop worked a friend who I used to have a crush on until about the same time that she worked out I had a crush on her. Sorry.
And yes I bought lots of books, and the people at work only had to phone me twice about things. Phew.
Tonight I shall go for my bi-annual movie watching. I can't remember the last time I went and saw a movie. I have a free pass courtesy of me getting out my boobies for a poster photoshoot. Sweet.

Cheerful, yet exhausted.

I've seen the pictures from the weekend. I look good. But I look old. Time for a health kick again. Even despite my moderate partying, my cough has come back full force. [home at 6am instead of 10am - that's moderate isn't it?]
*sighs*
Work is super-feral-busy. But for a change of pace, tomorrow is a day of bookbuying in the city. Method - find a bookshop, take a HUGE trolley, fill it with books, go to next bookshop, repeat.
And then Friday is union picnic day. Anyone fancy a free trip to the Zoo?
Somehow when I'm not at work I'm supposed to be launching a Young Writer's Award.
Aah, I'm sure it'll all fall into place.
Or pieces.
Whatever.

Post-Mardi Gras mind junk...

What a wonderful Mardi Gras.

After some last minute sewing and throwing together of a costume, Mr M and I went down to the Parade marshalling area to say hello to the happy Bi folks.
We were delighted by the sandwiches the Bears were giving away - which reduced the need to hunt for sustenance before the night began.
Gave my brother a phone call for his 18th birthday to the sound of the Dykes on Bikes rolling in. *laughs*
It was most wonderful and I believe he appreciated it!
Said a few hellos' but most people seemed distracted, so off to Misfits for parade viewing we went.

Oh how wonderful to have an balcony and a beer. It was my first parade watching ever *gasp*. I've spent so many years organising floats, but never watched the bloody thing. So I was pretty excited! Screamed myself hoarse by the time the bikes had finished. But halfway through my bladder was fit to burst, so dragged myself away during an 'ambulance break' *phew*.
I was amazed by all the floats, danced to the music, and squealed like the girl I am everytime I saw someone I knew.

Then we went wandering the venue. It was an alarming rabbit warren of a space. I adored dancing in the sweatbox where Sveta played. And then even more adored the space between the pool tables where the air-con blasted. Wandered around a fair bit, stopping now and then to glance out the windows at the raucous straight folks getting drunk on the street.
Highlights: - seeing Mr M's gorgeous shoulders in his Highway Patrol uniform shirt - myself being daring enough to wear a see-through top *eep, boobies* - sitting on a window sill by an open window in the sweatbox room - watching all the eyecandy wandering by - and having one last dance while waiting for Mr M to say his goodbyes and turning around to find the guy in the cap I'm dancing next to is Jimmy!

Home before the sun came up and slept in my new sheets *yummmm*.

Gurlesque on Sunday was nice and chilled. Started slow, but I enjoyed watching the girls wandering around the room. Felt pretty good in my new black and white kitten heels, black skirt/top, white sheer bolero and white gloves. May have looked foolish. But felt damn fine.
Let myself go into the shows, squealing and laughing and clapping. Talked to many folks, but was too shy to talk to others. Tipped the cage dancers heartily. Caught up with out of town friend-people. And then wandered home with Miss A, via a cute but semi-sleazy bus-stop photoshoot with two other girlies.

Today I've paid for my frolicking with a return of that throat-thing *grrr*.
But had a wonderful day playing straight-girl-shopping with Miss A. I bought some jeans from Sportswhore and she bought a beautiful tulle twirling skirt. Later I found some work shoes from a kids store in the city. I have bought more shoes in the last month than I have bought in a year and a half previously.
I shall stop now.

birds and boys

Right now the sky is pink and purple with the sunset.
I can hear them drawing the meat raffle at the bowling club across the park, and the sulfur-crested cockatoos are going mad finding their roosts for the night.
Oh it's so wonderful to have the birds here. They arrived a couple of weeks ago - along with a smaller flock of pink galahs - and since then I've barely seen any mynahs about.
Such a joy.

Huge week at work has left me very tired. A good dinner and an early night is in order tonight. Tomorrow was going to be a birthday breakfast at the beach for one of my fave trannyboys, but somehow (as much as I am an early morning person) I don't think I'll be making it.
Must also remember to phone my brother tomorrow for his 18th birthday.
My other younger brother shares his birthday with the christian christmas.
What would be worse; your birthday on christmas, or on our queer christmas? Discuss.

My father finally sent me a birthday present. He posted it to my work and included a handwritten letter (remember them?). Bad move.
My Da can be a tad sentimental at times.
Bawled like a baby I did.

*eep*

Two days to that big queer party and I still don't know what I'm wearing.
Oh yes, I've an outfit for the recovery (yet to decide where I'll be heading), but nothing for the big night.
Ideas anyone?