a HOUSE. (said with the tone of the King in the King and I..)

Mmm. Not sure if you grew up on that movie like I did, Blog, but I could repeat it scene by scene. So to make sense, the title has to be said with Yul Brenner's tone while conceding to Buddha to "give this woman...a house" (insert "Mrs. Anna" 's joyful face here). Anyway...

Houses. They've got me thinking (well, correction the perfect coffee just ingested and the backlog of SCOTS readings when crossbred with buying toaster yesterday and talking to friend about her impending housemove has me thinking. ABOUT houses. But details schmetails).

I can't cook particularly well. I can't. It's a fact. One I want to remedy but a fact none the less (although it's all perspective I spose. I've managed to feed myself and numerous others for years, so I spose I CAN cook, but Nigella Lawson and Jamie Oliver would likely frown at the presentation etc when it came to 'plating up'. (ohhh masterchef, what have you done to my brain? (wow, it's very early for brackets inside brackets inside brackets) ) ).  And yet stores like House thrill me to pieces. Itty bitty domestic and tragically feminine pieces. My urge to nest is contrary to most other aspects of my personality, I think (irresponsibility and spontenaiety, being two that come to mind). But it's there. And drags me along on spending sprees re: jars and appliances and mugs and teapots, far too often.

If I wanted to get all oldschool psych on you, Blog, I'd suggest it was some kind of childhood of insecurities and feeling out of place, that drove me to be so thrilled everytime I migrated because it was another opportunity to make the blank ready-to-rent kitchen mine, to adorn bedrooms and living rooms with things that meant something to those dwelling there. To make cold open spaces cosy (with no talent whatsoever, don't get me wrong! I'm far from a skilled interior decorator. ). It's not even just the decoration though. The function matters also. Appliances that cook homely foods. Vacuums that clean my little world so nicely. A love of doing the dishes. It's all quite baffling. 

So is the strange fact that the other night I had a dream that , in opposition to my assumption of the future, I wasn't working, I was childrearing. Since when was that my goal? Since when did I even WANT little rugrats running around my house-with-cat-and-rug ? Gotta love the dreams that jolt you into realising you're maybe not who you thought you were. Even thinking about it in daylight it makes a large amount of sense. 

Are my twenties to blame for this? I don't know. I hope so. I hope it's that and not a sudden rush ( patriarchal society in a panic about it's downfall ? ) of subtle promotions re: women at home , that I've noted on tv, starting to get to me.  

But at the moment, I actually see no problem with that. Combining work with it would of course be idea, but am definitely recognising that little developing-psychologically children (damn you subject, damn you for infiltrating my brain irreversibly) would likely have a similar effect to toasters. Re: the home / family / nest / world .. thing. 

In the words of Alice.. curiouser and curiouser, that's for sure.

In other news though... It's sunday morning and 10am and I've already completed a fraction of the mountains of work to do today. And my ambition to make it slow, is well underway. I'm sitting here in baggy jeans and singlet by the 'fire' and have only stood up briefly thus far. It's peaceful. And interesting. And ... I don't know. I spose some might say I'm happy. Which is as disturbing as all the above. Because  a lot of this is the direct and indirect result of the Boy. Sickening as it sounds, it's not JUST his presence and all the things he says and does, that is influencing my general life attitude. But it's also things he doesn't mean to do... he actually inspires me, makes me wise, makes me productive, makes me BETTER. why? how?! WHO CAN SAY :I but I like it. And therefore fear losing it. Which is a new thing. One I'm not a fan of. 

But why dwell? 

In other other news... I watched half an hour of that incredibly shit "Meteor" movie last night, instead of the years I've spent avoiding such horrific ideas. And instead of being sickened with fear, as the phobia of apocalypse would dictate, I just laughed and changed channels. So far from the Theresa who collapsed into tears with Swan in the middle of the quad at Queens due to being told that something was currently hurtling towards earth and was due in 2 days. My my..the times they are a'changin' ... 

It's a bit scary to think I don't know where my mind will evolve to next :I but quite exciting. And turns out I have a fair bit of control over it afterall.....

Ah, life. 

lack of jam and hail to the turtles.

so... it's 10 30 on a Saturday morning and my plan had been to be juuuuust getting up now, easing into the day with some good toast, good jam, good coffee and perhaps even good company.

I've been up for hours though. Running around doing various things I promised I would and until about 10 minutes ago (when I sprawled out on this couch after switching on the fire (is that fun or disturbing to say? i can't decide which) armed with early morning chocolate fix) I could hear my heart pounding exhausted in my ears as I walked back and forth down Elizabeth St in the cold meeting this person and that person and going about general duties. Not that I don't love that. I do. But this morning was meant to be slower.

Point is though, I used to hate slow. HATE slow. Which I maintain is the reason behind my love of coffee. The faster one goes the less one thinks, basically. Plus franticness serves as good motivation when you have none. Translating into doing things better, making better choices and all around having more energy when slower, but having more of your own thoughts rather than a to-do list stapled to your edgy jumping spazzed out noggin. 

Now, though, I love slow. I love my own thoughts. I love that I love them. I love being lazy. I love that I don't need caffeine for motivation because I have enough of that on my own. Love having time. All of it. So this morning I realised how much I appreciate mornings and moments that I might have hated years ago .

And right now, being still is heaven. Even though it's not going to last. Because soon there are things to do, uni work, escapades to shops, other Saturday things. But the fact that it's fleeting just makes it all the more tasty.

Turtles have it right. They do. I'm going to follow their slow lead for the majority of my time now, I think. Living to 100 I guess they had time to learn a lot about life..

furthermore

i have figured out how to link and paste in pictures etc.

i hope this means ill add more substance to this contraption.

it may not. who can tell? 

watch this space. 

maybe.

some things that suck

i would like to pause, for a moment, with my relatively merry and often disturbingly disney view of life, if i may, to dedicate this post to some stupid things. Things that make me squint my eyes and shoot evil arrows of venom in their direction or imaginary steam rush out of my ears. Because lord knows, there's quite a long list of them and today about 9,000 things were added to it. (don't get me wrong, it's a rocking day, actually. But mainly because several big things eclipse the many smaller crappier bits, big things like tasty food and stupendous boys. you know how it goes.) ANYHOO..

First cab off the rank, companies without a toll free number for complaints. I'm sorry, but why should your clients or whatever you like to call them spend their cold cash twiddling their thumbs to the sound of elevator music while you're trying to fix an error that isn't their fault. 

Next, and this one has cropped up in the last 5 minutes, actually (mm fresh and tasty! hot outta the oven!) ... people who sit in silent areas talking loudly about who's had sex on what furniture. Yes, this is a common hate but i didn't claim to be original when i started this cathartic rant. My every thought is being pierced by their 'silence' and images of people I don't know getting sweaty on couches and footstools. no thanks. pass. get out. NOW. 

Itunes. You sneaky thing you. I have a suggestion. If you want me to buy music from you, make it so that I can then move the songs onto cds and the like. You're 'only able to move once aka into itunes' format isn't saving your tunes ship from piracy, it's just making people not bother to board. 

Bananas. Specifically the one i just ate. For ageing too speedily (yes a lot of these seem to have the recurrent theme of lack of control at their core..) .

And to the super surly girl at the Village coffee shop..SMILE. seriously. You're sucking the joy out of my coffee drinking. You can have bad days, sure. Everybody does. But have you ever even had a good day ? Are you ever not sarcastic and keen to accidentally overcharge? Do you ever make good coffee (yes, this part is my own fault. i could go elsewhere. but it's pot luck whether she or the other lady are on and the other lady is lovely! that cafe is an all-too-conveniently located jekyll and hyde. And the convenience part means I'm always willing to take the gamble, and then whine when i lose. Probably shouldn't. But hey. ) ? Did you ACTUALLY HAND ME COFFEE TODAY AND INSTRUCT ME TO MICROWAVE IT BEFORE DRINKING AS IT MAY NOT BE WARM ENOUGH? You work at a place with an abundance of chocolate bars, cake and sandwiches. Eat one and let it's sugary seratonin-inducing smileyness float into your brain . Actually...maybe I'll do that now and pause with the rage.

oh. shazaam. that worked. is there anything food can't do? :o

i think i'll get on with the study now. 

And by study i do mean scrabble. we all know this is true. but then study. fo' real, .

several hours later again..

.. it's amazing what then winning the next game of scrabble, a gorgeous boy who actually understands what the frick you're on about and an almost-real fireplace can do for the soul .

i just lost at scrabble. 

sigh. 

im having a bath. 

bother . (the sequel , within hours, to the sunny message below. sigh)

So it's 3pm and my merry day has dipped just a tad, the boat has rocked but the good mood hasn't quite been thrown overboard (although it's admittedly crouching in the corner of said boat, looking a little green as it's white windlashed knuckles grip the sides) .

How did this happen on such a low key day, you might ask? The evils of pita bread (or more technically, my denial to see it as a bad thing , when too much is ingested ). I am quite the glutton. We've seen this before, many times in the past. Not often a glutton for food but for everything else. I will text until my phone bill explodes, read until my eyes water, watch a series until I have an inner monologue similar to the main character for weeks afterwards. And pita, was no exception to this. After testing the waters of the whole supertrendy avoiding wheat thing ( not with any illusion that it would make me cooler. my uncoolness is beyond repair. but was hoping nausea and stomach pain might not be) it seemed to work the treat. But could have just been in my head! It COULD have been, people. Despite numerous 'experiments' suggesting otherwise. WHO REALLY KNOWS. So had a pita pizza. Which turned into 2. which turned into pita for lunch the next day. Which turned into buying a loaf of wonnnnnderful and filling bread, having toast at night, toast in the morning and toast for lunch :I . And as of the night before last, ye olde feral stomachness has indeed returned (im going to blame the pita not the delicious bread, which is rye not wheat and really realllly hope it's wheat specific not gluten specific) . Coincidence? I maintain that it might be. But... it HAS been a while since I was sitting crouched in a chair feeling like I was in a hammock I couldn't stop. 

To add to the misfortune (can you use that term when it's self inflicted?) , after recently deciding a few more kilos wouldn't kill me/eating more is more good times/whatever other threads of thought came with that, I was truly looking forward to a) meeting boyfriend on lunchbreak and taking him to the cuuuutest cafe for muffin, caffeine and merry moments, and/or b) brunettis this eve. But alas. Neither came to / is coming to pass. And yet in an attempt to ease sick feeling have eaten 2 bananas (someone told me that worked?) and have a sneaking suspicion that whilst the social lovely part of going out to eat isn't gonna happen, the vast quantities will and just had to write 500 words on the effect of sudden weight gain so that's a little off putting. However that can be ignored. So can the stomach pains. What can't though, is the tragedy that is failing to make my boyfriend smile, the boy who I am SO lucky to have and really do love to pieces, and with that being one of the few things to do today (ahhh the joys of an easy Monday! such trickery though, the rest of the week doesn't look similar) it feels like a bit of a failure, at 3pm.  I very almost shouted at him (over nothing, might I add) while standing on the corner sensing impending doom, and have been far from the girlfriend I intended to be when I got up. That's kind of the worst part :I