There's no nice way to put it...

I am a raging bitch from hell today.

Seriously, I'm scaring myself with how hormonal I am. Chef's taken to calling me Snappy Tom (which, curiously, makes me snap at him) and as well as the animals avoiding me at all costs, the Mac is practically shrinking away from my touch, perchance I have murderous thoughts about throwing it into the dog's water bowl.

One of the reasons I am, let's say, slightly horrid today, is that I feel like a bit of a failure. Ya know, being the ripe old age of 22 and having nothing to really show for it. My car's crap. I have a bathroom the color of giraffe crap. My dog's are all broken and my cat's deranged. The only thing I have are love handles, which are growing at an alarming rate; personal trainer or no personal trainer.

I want a real job. A grown up job. One that doesn't involve trudging through paddocks full of horse manure, being up to my elbows in freaks or having a mentally unbalanced Kelpie hanging from my sleeve. (Well, actually, I do want all that - and have it on a regular basis. Just remember I'm being a crazy woman today, and don't know what I'm saying).

I want to write.

And I do. I write all the time. Lists for this, lists for that, blog posts, random notes, cards to my Nan...but I want to do more of the thing I love. Settling down with a brilliant idea and nutting it all out on paper (Sorry, Mac! What am I saying! My ideas are so old fashioned sometimes). Sitting bolt upright in the middle of the night when inspiration randomly hits me, and actually following through with it in the morning. In a fit of mentioning to Chef I actually have a little notebook I write down plots, characters and dialogue in, there was a mad scramble around the house as he tried to find it. Alas, I am too good at hiding things (ha! It's actually in a deceptively simple location, which I shall not disclose for fear of him reading this and finding it). So, I got to thinking... if I do go back to school next year and complete my diploma in writing and editing..I actually have to write a novel. And as much as I throw ideas around and think they're wonderful...I can't see any of them culminating in a 250+ page book.

So, I'm throwing it out to all my lovely bloggy friends...

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your plots!

Oh! Precious Day!

After weeks - no, I take it back; months - of squashing my face against the window, longingly stroking the glass in their general direction, fantasizing about and generally living in hope that one day these shoes would be mine....

they are!

(The staff from the shoe store actually knew me, as I'd spent every Thursday night adoringly trying them on and staring at myself in the mirror for approximately twenty minutes, before sending photos of their beauty to each and every person I know). Also, doesn't TGI Friday's floor look particularly attractive? I couldn't make it through dinner - or more than five minutes - without lovingly staring at them, or pointing out their fabulousness to waiters/any general member of the public who was near me at the time. Oh, Happy Day!)

'I'm on the roaaaad again...'

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, you read correctly - I am back online!

*raises a hand to quell the squeals of excitement*

But, instead of getting too deeply involved in this post and type actual news, I'm just going to update via a few of my wonderful photos.

Ah, it's good to be back :)

I know you must have missed him, so here he is. My handsome man, Phoenix.

Meet Axle, the Maremma. Axle likes to consume stilletos, hide under curtains, and generally walk into things. He's a very lovely ( and very fluffy) young man.

He smiles a lot.

My roadside assist team. Yep, contrary to what I entitled the headline of this post, I am not on the road. Mid lane, rush hour traffic yesterday - and I lost all power. Shockingly, I didn't go into hysterics, merely used a single, concise four letter word as I located my hazard lights, and veered over two lanes onto a grass embankment. 4 hours later, 2 tow trucks and a mechanic unable to fix it, I got home. Le sigh. (And yes. That is the only photo I have seen of my mother and father communicating since their wedding photo (and subsequent divorce) 20 years ago. I had to call him to offer her a lift home, as obviously I was unable to do so. This is going into some sort of archive.

Sahara and I on one of the long, looong drives home. We're so hot.

Pretending to be tourists at The Nobbies on one of our recent road trips.

The one and only time Sahara's been off lead for weeks. Moments after this, Phoenix took to the hills chasing rabbits, and we spent over an hour to locate him, frothing at the mouth and jubilant. He's so naughty. Little does he know he's going back to intensive training this week.

I spent ages trying to get a video of the waves crashing on the rocks, and this photo was the best of the lot.

Sahara just got back from the vet, after being sedated and x rayed .

Diagnosis: ruptured cruciate ligament.

Chef's and my trip to Queensland is now taking a backseat, and will be instead forking out thousands for her surgery. Luckily for her, it's not hip displaysia as first thought, so there's still a chance she will be able to walk and run again, and, fingers crossed, rule all the boys in her pack again.
As you can see, she's still a little dopey from her anesthetic. She doesn't take well to going to the vet, and was muzzled and sedated for not just the x rays, but any actual interaction that was needed with a human. My sweet little girl :)

... there will be more updates on a blog by thy dog, too! Check it!