corn on the cob & a kettle on the hob

It's quite nice to sit down for five minutes and post pictures of shallow, pretty dresses. You see, there's no end in sight for my busy week. I'm trying to look at that positively. Lunch with my mother, dog training, shopping with my cousin, dog training, 'Paws with your Pal', dog training, dinner with Seah & Co, and of course, working with my horsies and the trial at my new job on Monday. In between all that I need to walk the dogs a minimum 8km daily, do my hideously painful ab crunching and general girly maintenance, and of course clean the house, provide delicious and nutritional meals for my man and mutts and try not to consume vast amounts of alcohol to get me through.
When my credit card and my banking card declared themselves empty and spat themselves out the Eftpos machine today, it was slightly hard to think positively. In fact, it was all I could do not to have a complete mental break down in the express lane of Big W. (Not helped by the fact a menopausal women today stole my car park from under my nose, cut me off left right and freakin' centre, and drove in a downright insane way, and had the nerve to raise her hands in confusion when I flipped her the bird and deafened her with my horn. Cow).
So, my happy happy thoughts today are somewhat simple pleasures, just to keep me sane.

1. My adorable Gallaz shoes. They match my workout gear, and are strangely comfortable in a "I know I'm still wearing socks" kind of way. If I feel cute working out, then I look cute working out. And that means my work outs are more productive. Winner.

2. Smoked corn on the cob and garlic herb and cheese bread for lunch. I can smell those babies roasting in the kitchen as I type. I love living with a chef.

3. My new kitchen appliances. I'm kinda glad our Russell Hobbs range crapped itself simultaneously. I love my new 'raspberry red' blender and I know it will help me produce delicious Red Corvettes in Summer. Mmm, frangelico & strawberries in the swimming pool at Christmas. Heaven.

And I've gotta add... I fell in love with Vicious Threads when I randomly tried on a dress in the Basement last season, and since then I've been somewhat disappointed in their collection. Having said that, the dress on the left is the one I fell in love with - it looks totally slammin' on, yet looks like a common Target sack on the model. I think I might track me down the nice dress on the right on ebay and give it a loving home in my wardrobe.

I love you without knowing how, nor why...

Other than the fact I look somewhat like a trashy crack whore with thunder thighs, it's a pretty good photo of all the crap in my lounge room.
The point? My new shoes! So. Freakin'. Comfortable. So Freakin'. Cute.




{and if it looks like I have an incredibly tiny fireplace, I have 10ft ceilings. Oh, and - me: 178cm + heels: 10cm = 6ft 2 of scary lady}.









Even Phoenix approves.

Show day!

My favorite three things from today all involve...

Show Day! I've gone to the Melbourne Show every year for as long as I can remember, and this year I took D for the first time.We got very, very wet. I went on my first ever rollercoaster.
And survived (although I cried. A lot). I stuffed myself full of all manner of things involving fudge, hot dog, sherbert, warm cheese and general nastiness. And even though there were no horses
this year, I played with lots of small, fluffy animals. I watched fireworks. It was a fun day!

I somehow managed to win about 6 things on eBay while I was out - why is it when I don't follow the progress or really care whether I am the top bidder, I win the stuff??

I had a chance to talk to some really nice people today {number 2 on my list today!}. I love getting out and about and striking up conversations with random strangers - friendliness seems to be such a rare occurance some days, yet asking how someone's day is (and meaning it) is such a small thing to do.




And third today... spending the whole day with my Chef, playing, eating, giggling, sharing all the fun things we never get a chance to do, like being able to get away with acting like small children. "Will you still need me, will you still feed me...". Love that boy.



Oh...and these things are Pure Evil. There's one at work who ruffles his feathers and makes his disturbing gobble noises and walks towards me while looking fixated on my leg. It makes me scream.

Also, in case you haven't noticed, I totally suck at the layout of my blog. These photos are my undoing.

'three for free'

I read an article about how to be a more positive person, and in turn do nice things for people and end your days with a positive impact. When Chef went to his friends' wedding on Monday, apparently the nicest thing he heard was the father of the bride saying "You know a couple is doing well when they never go to bed mad with each other, no matter how bad their day has been". I think that's super sweet, and falls in with the whole thing Oprah's got going on, 'Live Your Best Life'. And it kinda made me wonder - such small things make me smile, or really make my day and restore a little faith in humanity. Whether it's someone letting me cut the cue at the checkout because I only have a tin of pineapple, or someone passes me their train ticket at the end of their day so I don't have to fork out cash for my own, or even down to someone taking the time to say what a nice day it is out on a walk.
So without further ado or babbling, I will be adding my own 3 things each day. And heck, maybe someone will even get a smile out of them, and thus doing something nice for someone else :)1. Waking up to a back rub and a nice warm cuddle from my man after a sleepless night of bad dreams and thunderstorms.

2. Trudging through slippery, muddy paddocks with rain dripping down my back and my hair in rats tails in my eyeballs, feeding out the hay in gale force wind (which mostly ended up down my bra) and knowing there's no where else I'd rather be when I feel a velvet muzzle snuffling my neck in thanks.

3. The reception I get when I come home to my dogs (and realizing they havn't destroyed a single item of my bathroom). Ahh, unconditional love.

Meeeow.

I've become somewhat addicted to So You Think You Can Dance, partially because I have fallen madly, deeply, and passionately in love with Pasha. Phooar. I don't know what it is about him - the way he wiggles his hips, that gap between his teeth, his fluffy mousy hair...

If I met him in person, he'd make me want to don a rhinestone encrusted dress and sway around the room like I have insect life in my panties.

I actually think Neil is totally adorable, and I'd like to keep him in my pocket and pat him; he's much more my 'type' but something about Pasha just makes my panties moist.

{looking closely at his photo, his belly button freaks me out slightly}.

..yaaargh!

How careless of me to forget it's school holidays.
I took myself off for a spot of retail therapy this afternoon, and after being trod on, run into and generally smacked around by small children emitting ear screaming noises, I was in dire need of an extra dry venti caramel macchiato. I inhaled that sweet foam like there was no tomorrow, and enjoyed a spot of road rage on the way home to ease my frustration.

When I got home and happily unwrapped my new purchase, a gorgeous Sportsgirl grey merle dress, I thought I would find a photo on eBay of one to post - alas, none. But I did find something rather startling. The size 'Small' on eBay in Sportsgirl is listed as a size TWELVE.
Usually, I am so excited by anything I fit into in a small I sprout a rosy glow and wear it with pride, thinking I've poured myself into an 8-10. I even took an array of XXS and XS in the changing room, but they were all extremely see through or made me look 5 months sperminated. (I don't cope well with A line in this seasons smock style dresses unless wearing a wrap-around belt and a bolero to cinch in and give the illusion of having breasts).

Ya know, I blame that sales assistant. When asking how tight the dresses should be worn, she replied "oh...loose, but fitted, you know? Like, baggy, but still tight".

Riiiight.

Still, even if she has wrecked my illusion of being super stylish in my tent dress, my hair looked really cute in those two way mirrors today. Something to be thankful for, at least.

Introducing... Basildon.

I am a little worried about my ratty, Basil. When I picked him up to come for a romp around the bathroom whilst I had my shower this morning, he felt very thinny. He still rattles his bars and begs for food as usual, but I guess he's getting on a bit now, when I purchased him from a dodgy pet shop he was fully grown already. And called Beige. Ugh.
I got him at a time I wasn't allowed pets in my share house, although there were 3 stinky, horrible feral cats roaming around the house shitting in our bath and eating the couch.

If he were a person, I think he would wear dapper Armani suits, be a bit of a man whore, have beautiful penmanship and have a knack for flower arranging. As you can see, he adores Stargazer pink oriental lilies as much as I do.

* * *

Disclaimer: Rats are actually very clean animals, they don't smell if kept correctly, and aren't parasite infested critters like many believe. He also eats a lot healthier than I do. So don't go hating on him!

M.I.A

Have been somewhat M.I.A this weekend - Sunday was spent lazily roasting myself on the beach and splashing through the waves with the dogs and the Chef at Mordialloc (and of course, eating salty fish and chips smothered in ketchup at Black Rock, just to improve my metabolism).

Yesterday was The Wedding, and silly me did exactly as I planned, and got rip roaringly sloshed on a 4 litre cask of wine, a bottle of champagne and a kettle full of bacardi. (Yes. A kettle. At this stage, my ability to find a jug or other liquid dispensing device was limited).

Fittingly, the hangover fairy has been visiting me today, screaming at me to get water and other life saving items such as vegemite on toast/hot sweet tea etc, when, as Bridget Jones once said, it seemed better not to disturb bits of machinery and pheasants flapping around in my head.

I ended up having to drive Chef into the CBD early morning to get his car, as it as apparently got locked down in the carpark last night, which wasn't the most enjoyable thing without sunglasses and an intravenous coffee drip. The drive, I mean, not the carpark. I didn't like to admit just how many litres of alcohol I had consumed in the space of 3 hours, which he was obviously angling for when asking me to drive, so I just feel rather grateful I was not invited into police presence, and my state of mind at least somewhat numbed the otherwise frightening terror of driving in the city.

I did manage to wrangle TGI Friday's chips smothered in Jack Daniels glaze out of sympathy this morning, which was a bonus, although my liver and other vital organs still appear to be on strike. And of course those dogs don't exercise themselves, so after another long phone conversation with my mother (whom I apparently had a lengthy chat with yesterday evening...when? how? what?) I got horribly lost walking around Burwood, and taunted myself by ending up at Hungry Jacks.

. . .

C O N G R A T S seah!

Happy happy happy!

( I am officially the only person in the world not getting married).

{"two 'carrot' ring...Ha.Ha.Ha.}

I so need this shirt...

Need I say more...?