Speaking of 'raise'...

I was just watching Oprah, and there was a segment on about how having more sex makes you happier, and it ended with Oprah saying an economics survey has found having sex once a week as opposed to once a month gives the same feeling as getting a $50,000 raise in pay...

Well, I know which one I would prefer.

On a totally different tangent - why do the train station underpasses in Melbourne always smell like a herd of cattle with UTI's have passed through them?

Countdown to Summer

It felt like the first day of Summer yesterday, well and truly. I woke up and sniffed, and it was like smelling Christmas - people were out mowing the grass, there was hardly a breeze, and it was so nice I had my breakfast out on the deck. Chef was on Standby for work, and wasn't called in, and since it was such a nice day we decided to head down to St Kilda and take the dogs for a run. Obviously we spent around 7 hours trying to find me some new rollerblades, as the wheels had somehow inexplicably snapped off from the boot of my old ones, and apparently these days rollerblading is 'out of fashion'. Hmm. I eventually found a pair of 'ladies' skates, which have pink on them, and actually fit. Bonus! So we harnessed the dogs up, and off we went.

Now, I'd made three new resolutions in the last few days. Sadly I can only remember two of them. And the main one was I really need to start eating better, and exercising, because I am now at the point of being so depressingly large I cannot fit into anything I remotely like any more. There's only so much more I can buy from Ebay in a size 8-10, and I desperately need to know I can fit into my new purchases and actually be able to wear them out, minus love handles and pit flaps. So I've developed a somewhat fiendish obsession with all things getting fit, and as a result am shopping around for bike helmets, tennis rackets and so forth.

After exhausting the dogs (and ourselves) we sat on the waterfront and ate boysenberry ice cream { oops! } and watched all the people who had come out from the woodwork at the first glint of sunshine, and I spent a good long time daydreaming, mostly about Balenciaga handbags and a cute new dress I've found on ebay...

I slept like a very sleep person last night (my dogs never manage to sleep through the night without some sort of nightmare or reason to climb into bed with me) and woke up to the sound of Chef's handbrake - he'd already finished work! So he rearranged the bearings on his 'blades, whilst I cooked breakfast {fried eggs, grape juice and coffee - I choose to think the acidity in the juice will eat the badness from the egg...} and we sat on the deck and praised the Sun Lord again. My mother had called last night to discuss the horse flu epidemic (I'd been to the harness racing the night before, and had pulled a horse from work when I was trialling at my new job as Horse Welfare Officer for Riding for the Disabled on Thursday with flu like symptoms, so I'm watching carefully). Anyway, Mum called and told me there was a new doggy couture store opening this weekend on the other side of the city, so we took the dogs and tried on some cute little outfits (Sahara's shirt suited her down to the ground - "Puppy Princess") and bought a few things, and ended up doing a little photo shoot with the pups for the store. After we'd dragged Sahara away from all the attention (and after she'd jumped up and dug her claws into the owners Manly Parts) we roller-bladed around the Marybinong river, and stopped for some lemon and orange gelati... { 99% fat free! }

Monday...

Comment of the day?

Me: {sooking} I'm so fat.

Mum: {pointing at her shoulders for some inexplicable reason} Maybe if you ate more, it would disappear from where you think it is in your stomach, and go places it actually needs to. You were so pretty when you were...rounder.

Exercising my inner bitch.

I've had such a busy few days, and as a result, I am tired, cranky and acting like a cow. We spent Monday at my mothers on the coast, splashing about in the waves like a 5 year old, eating home cooked food and playing silly board games. It was just like old times, and it made me miss my hometown with a vengeance, which bothers me slightly. I spent so many years trying to get away from that place, and now I have, I miss the simplicity like crazy. I'm hoping it's just a 'stage' - I apparently went through so many of those growing up, so maybe I will grow out of this one, too.

Yesterday Chef & I took the dogs to the beach again, closer to home, and poked and prodded all the washed up jelly fish. We came home, settled in with Pay It Forward on DVD (I've been wondering about that ever since I saw an episode about it on Oprah...) and there was a knock at the door. Once we'd shoved the dogs in the kitchen, we answered the door and there was an Indian guy talking about milkmen. Turns out they're bringing back the 'old days' and having a local produce man, selling milk, eggs, vegies etc, so we placed an order basically to shut this guy up (he was a good salesman, I'll give him that) and he then asked for a lift somewhere! The nerve of this bloke! He'd been banging on about 'who was the man of the house' and giggling like he was hilarious, and how I'd have to get Chef to put the cooler bag out front on delivery days because for some reason I would be incapable of doing so myself. I chose to ignore these comments, and the ones about how I needed to buy full cream milk as I was too thin to walk my two dogs. Hmm.

Anyway, off point.

Chef and Indian Milk Man went out to his car, so I called Mum for a gossip (and to ask whether I should call the cops or not) and for some reason... out came my Inner Bitch. I unleashed it. I exercised it. It was free to roam... and I therefore had a tantrum about having nothing to eat. And for once Chef didn't just sit and give me the silent treatment for being a narky cow, he got up and left. And returned. Put on a lovely Cameron Diaz chick flick, gave me an armful of gerbera's and lillies, a bottle of Black Douglas & a bottle of Jim Beam, and the ingredients for a beautiful roasted vegetable lasagne. Apparently some random woman in the supermarket saw him with the flowers & alcohol, and asked him home with her, with comments about how lovely he was and 'why can't my boyfriend be like you' etc.

Just like the day before, when he cooked me sweet chilli & plum sausages with pasta salad for a typical beach barbeque. And when he let me drive his nice car, and sing along with love song dedications at the top of my horrible singing voice while he was trying to sleep. Like when he gave up his sleep on his day off to take me home because I miss my mum. Sigh...

I really must pay attention to this Pay It Forward thing. I really need to learn to be a nice person.

Metaphorically speaking...

Me: What is it you like about me, Chef?
Chef: {after slight pause} I love you because you're like an All Terrain Vehicle - I can take you pretty much anywhere.

{several seconds and some indignant spluttering later}

Me: I don't want to be a damn ATV. I want to be a freakin' Porsche!