I need a break.

Dear Brains Trust,
Suggestions are needed for somewhere for Mr M and I to have a wee holiday.
Preferably no more than half a days drive from Sincity. Coastal might be nice this time.
Doesn’t need to be a fancy destination. We’d be happy with a cabin in a caravan park.
He likes poking around antique shops and museums; and I like real coffee and trees.
Ideas anyone?
Many thanks,
Miss Y.

one less night

I try and be good all week. Rug up against the sudden chill in the weather. Drinking herb teas. Not pushing myself too much. No beer on Wednesday. No beer on Friday even. Looking forward to Kooky.
Telling myself to get through the busy work week in one piece and I can get to the dancefloor.

Worked Saturday day with a sore throat and fever. Physical work, outside. Home and resting after. Quiet. Chill. Hope for the best.
Night falls and I head to the local for one drink with the delicious Ms J. At the pub a neighbour walks past asking if they'll see me at Kooky later.
But sadly no. It seems there's no 2^nd wind to be had.

Even others who were sickly and weren't going, were now perking up and heading out into the night. Rubberball, Kooky and beyond. Peer pressuring texts flew in from all fronts. Even Mr M traipsed about the town, from BBQs to drinks with friends. 'Tiptoeing' in after 1am.

But instead I was in bed by 9.30, dreaming fitfully of dancefloor shenanigans between waking to blow my nose.
For breakfast this morning I've had a huge pot of herb tea and some daydreams of what last night could've been like.
*sighs wistfully*

After the heat of the day.

Tonight I have sent my apologies with Mr M, to a backyard full of loud friends. I think my limit for today has already been reached. It will be an early bedtime for me.
Today was full of excellent chats with gorgeous friends. My skin now holds a soft scent of sweat, suncream, puppy dogs and the hugs of the day.
But now, tired and dizzy, I sit exhausted in a quiet house. I've not had enough proper sleep or food, but for dinner I found a huge, ripe, sweet mango hiding in the fridge. It's juiciness revived me a little.
I have a lot running around my head at the moment. But tonight I shall just let it all run free. Deeper thoughts will have to wait until I have found a more even keel.

*sheepish*

Made it to the weekend intact. Just.
And have worked out this morning why my head is all wonky. It was so obvious I didn't see it before.
Will get myself sorted out and enjoy the weekend now.
Household chores this morning, and then I think I shall sit on the front verandah with a cuppa tea and wait for the horses to procession past.
Hopefully all the nights plans will, well, go according to plan.
Life is good.

"You've got to, ac-cen-tuate the .."

"...oh fuck off!"

I've tried to concentrate today on keeping my head level - with varying degrees of success. There were some high points. Like actually being hard at work when the big boss lady came to visit me in my little office away from home.

But also some low points where even dirty bloodlusting daydreaming wasn't working and I just wanted to tell all the weirdos to fuck off and go and be weird somewhere else.
Of course, they were just being people and it's probably just my low tolerance levels that were to blame.
Mostly.
*low growl*
Fucking weirdos.

No rain on him.

Aaah, rainy days in the library. It brings all sorts in.
Today we had more than our average amount of nutters. They were all in good moods and well behaved. They normally are.
It's the ratepayers you have to watch out for. And the scores of HSC students (not) studying throughout the building at the moment.

Anyway, I had a brilliant exchange with one today.
He found a few things to read, and kept coming back to the desk, talking at some of the younger staff members about psychopaths and nazi's and the like. I deflected him a couple of times in gentle ways.
Later then he comes up close to me singing "20 miles is a long long way to go to see my baby"
I laugh and ask, "Would you like me to look up who sang that sir?" (we sometimes get those sort of questions)
"No no no, but we've come along way since then, since the 60's. 20 miles is a long way. I wonder what that is in kilometres?"
"Shall I look up the answer for you sir?"
"Oh no."
"Well that's what we're here for. Let me know if there's anything you'd like me to help you find."
"20 miles is a long way to walk. I like walking. It's a fabulous form of exercise."
And just as he starts to walk away I can't help but call after him; "And aren't you lucky the weather has just cleared for you sir."
And then he turns and walks out the door into the sunshine.

Then one of the other nutters walks past and nods at me with a smile, saying "smooooth".
Too funny.

sad flatlands

It's been a while since I've posted anything, but my mood is pretty flat, so I'll not write much.
Life has been full of much joy and delight lately.
I wish I could split myself in 3 to be able to do more and enjoy more. As it is I think I'm a wearing myself a bit thin, so I'm really trying hard to keep the self care up.
Work has been very busy, but also in a good way.
On the horizon is a wee holiday with Mick, which I'm looking forward to immensely.
Oh, that is all. More later when my mood has lifted.

Pink?

Okay. Everyone knows how much I am, well, not terribly fond of the colour pink.
I can't stand it. I nearly turned and walked out of a shopping centre on the weekend because it was all festooned in bright pink for breast cancer fundraising. I never had, or wanted, a pink bedroom as a child. And have no memory of wearing pink since I could choose my own clothing, apart from one dress that was so light it was nearly white.
I put it down to being a 'Mary, Mary quite contrary' by nature. I'm supposed to love it because I'm a girl. Girls love pink. Society says they should. Pink is cute. Pink is sweet and nice and pretty. Just like girls should be.
Raaaarrrr!
x 10!

Okay.
Now I've got that off my chest.
Again.
I must confess, I've done something I never thought I would.
I bought 3 metres of fabric with the intention of sewing it into a piece of clothing.
And yes - it's pink.
I truly mystify myself sometimes.

It's a dusky pink, with a grey and white 50's style pattern over it. I makes me want to make something retro with it. I can't sew for shit. I can bodgy things up though. So we'll see what happens eh. I walked past and looked at this fabric at least 4 times, and walked away 4 times. Shaking my head because it's pink and I don't do pink. There was a yellow version there, but it didn't inspire in the same way.

Maybe I should throw my hands up in the air and give in. Wear pink. Wear it everywhere. In every shade.
However that would probably muck with my head more than anyone else's.

In other news: Yay for an awesome weekend. I am so tired now I could die. As soon as I've finished typing here it's teeth, jarmies, bed.
Guerilla Star was v special. I was sad I didn't find my dancing groove until after Gemma's set, but once I did it was fantastic. The shows were inspired. Hurrah for alien sex and green goop! And even the door-bitching was fun. Helped by nearby eyecandy, wonderful company, chocolate and camera phone fun.
After a couple of hours sleep and some household chores, Mr M and I tottered off to watch the Jets in the grand final with Mr's Z, M, & K. 'twas great fun, but I'm glad I had to leave before the end, so I didn't see them lose in the last moments :-(
Baddog setup was fun. They were quite welcoming, and I was suprised that they didn't work us harder. Bailed on Gurlesque after, and hid at home instead. Couch collapsing and good food before heading out again.
Had such a good time dancing at Baddog. The music was consistently good all night. Mr M had a great time, though I had to drag him home earlier than he probably wanted to because I suddenly got soooo zonked.
Scared the poor cab driver because of the fake cuts on my face. His face looked quite panicked looking at me when I got out of the cab. Couldn't work out why at first because I'd forgotten they were there.
Apart from a brief waking to let the dog out and give her some food, I slept until 1.30pm. That's a record for me. Still so tired.
Okay. Really should go sleep now. Big day tomorrow.
*yawns*

Weekend joys.

I love playing dressups for a night out and about.
I love bouncing through rooms full of delicious friends.
I love dancing hard to good music.
I love waking, still tired, to the sound of the house tiptoeing around me.
I love mornings that are grey and cool when I am exhausted from a big night of partying.
I love a big mug of strong coffee from the stovetop espresso, and a bowl of warm bircher muesli - halfway between heaven and porridge!.
I love padding through the house, collecting the shoes, clothes, & jewellery I had discarded quietly, when I came home in the early hours of the morning.
I love weekend showers when I take just that little bit longer under the water, and having a new fresh scratchy dry towel waiting afterwards.
I love long weekends: Having yet another night to look forward too, another costume to think up, and another dancefloor waiting.