gaaaaaah!

Oh. My. God.

I have 12 minutes to do my hair, select an outfit, slap on some slap and get out the door for Bones' Birthday Bash. The one with the First Love present. The one with the First Love present whom I need to impress.

I now have 11 minutes, I can't locate my chicken fillets - I need all the cleavage I can get tonight - and I can only find ONE SHOE.


It's clearly buried in my shoe closet or under my bed, never to be seen again.


-UPDATE-

I found my shoe, complete with several dust bunnies. It was under the Chef's bed. Go figure.

Anywya, now I'm a little concerned I look like I'm dressed by my mother for a 5 year olds birthday party.

I'm even wearing a little cardi. Me! The Queen of "I'm Sure I'll Be Warm Enough" as my teeth shatter together in the subzero temperatures.

I decided on my favorite LBD (it's kind of black) as seen below - I can't find a decent photo of it where my face looks remotely un-pissed - but I just feel...



Frumpy.

And that is not sexy.





And my God, looking at that photo on the right, I really do have my mothers chin.

Skirmish!

3 things keeping me going today?

1. I'm going paintballing on Sunday. Yes. That is correct. I am being let loose in a field with 400 pound Maori's and a large gun. I'm beginning to think I may not be as brave as I make out - these guys are huge. My entire strategy for not getting killed by them is to lie flat and/or hide behind a tree so they can't see me, and then ambush then while they're backs are turned. There will be much screaming, I fear.

2. So You Think You Can Dance. On tape. In my living room. I have a free afternoon. I am excited.

3. Bones' Birthday Bash tomorrow night. I agreed to attend without thinking very carefully, and it suddenly dawned on me my First Love may or mat not be there. Leaning more towards the definitely will. And, since it's been 4 years since we last spoke, I obviously need a killer outfit and a lot of leg showing. Ya know. 4 years is a long time. I can't even begin to explain why it is necessary to have a slammin' dress, killer heels and big hair. I'm sure most ladies will understand it's not about making yourself attractive to them. It's more a personal statement of just how fantastically happy and successful we are without him, and how much you've gained from your life since he left you, moping and crying hysterically on your final day of school.

erm....wtf?

As I was walking along the beach today, happily day dreaming about all my favorite things - ponies, having blonde hair, chocolate self saucing pudding - I noticed a (large) hairy man in what appeared to be see through shorts. As I was in the middle of a lovely golden dream involving Pasha riding a pony with blonde hair smothered in said pudding (joke!) I didn't pay too much attention.

10 metres later.

It dawned on me his rather hairy butt crack was indeed on display. I idly wondered why such an old man would indeed buy a transparent swimming costume, and carried on my merry way.

5 metres later.

He stood up. Brushed some sand off himself. Applied a shirt, and started walking directly in front of me.

Stark. Staring. Naked.

Apparently the signs dotted along the beach front weren't prohibiting what they depicted - 4 people holding hands. On closer inspection, the revealed what was clearly supposed to be a man and woman linking hands with...a smaller man and woman. Which one would assume would indicate children.

Which begs the question - who takes their children for an afternoon at the seaside, and gets their willy out?

ROFLMAO.

*gasps for air*

You MUST click here for quite possibly the funniest thing I have ever seen. Ever.

Potentially NSFW, you may find yourself rolling on the floor giggling like a schoolgirl.


{Disclaimer: It may not be that funny if you are Non Australian, or really boring. Indeed, this may just be my insane humour. But click it anyways}.

TBA

I really need to rely on my 'three positive things' over the next month or so. No new clothes. No Venti Caramel Macchiatos'. Not even a Subway Half and Half cookie when I'm feeling down. From now on, it's all systems go to save, save save, and move into our new place. There are potentially a few problems - i.e our estate agent being her usual self and acting like something I dare not type, not finding new tenants and us being homeless, with a lot of china horses, several boxes of 'things I'm saving for my own children' and a whole heap of empty wine bottles I will someday turn into candle holders. I can see us ending up in a camping somewhere for a few weeks. Still, I suppose I can always pretend we're on holiday. I mean, I'm sure you can still run a Mac Powerbook, a Hiptop2 and iPod & digital camera's on a 9volt battery, right?

So, to the positives.

1. It's a beautiful day. I'm going to spend the first half relaxing in the sunshine (27 degrees, whoo hoo!) and the rest frantically calling estate agents, and searching for shrapnel in the couch for future emergency eBay purchases. A girl needs a new dress to keep her morale up, you know? {edit: Look! It got to 30 degrees! I heart Summer!}

2. My boobs look really big today.

and 3? My new $1 jeans are LONG enough. For only the second time in my life, I have jeans with a hem that actually touches my feet. The first pair remain in my wardrobe, ripped to shreds from constant wear. They are sacred, and never to be thrown out.

warm fuzzyness.

Today I went in search of My Dream Home. I think I actually came pretty close - carpet, cupboards, a bath, a fence, an agent who isn't clinically insane - all things I currently lack - and I spent several minutes calling practically everyone I know, to tell them of my new found glory. And then it happened. 3 people, who can only be described as complete bogans, (for those needing a definition of a 'Bogan', click here)walked past, complete with obligatory snarling Rottweiler, can of Woodstock and hideous beer gut hanging out of tight lyrca leggings, swearing profusely and eyeing off my car. I guess I can't win them all. I either choose a house I wouldn't be ashamed to invite people to and potentially be broken into repeatedly, or have charming neighbours and live in a god forsaken shit hole in the middle of no where. The choice...
On the way home, I of course stopped off at the shelter my boy dog came from. I can't help myself - something about poor lonely animals makes me go all gooey, and today was no different. I just about came home with 3 new dogs, but luckily came to my senses as I noticed a sign for an Op Shop. Bargain shopping is one of my favorite things to do, coming in a close third behind adopting random animals with dodgy history's, and taking long bubble baths. Cut a long story short (sort of), I emerged several minutes later with two books, and a pair of jeans I paid $169 for last season, for the grand total of $2. As I paid, I slipped in an extra $4 or so, which was the grand total of my finance this week, and the lady actually stopped me to say I'd overpaid her. I replied, with some embarrassment, I would like to give her a small donation, to which she practically burst into tears with thanks. It was so sweet, and gave me such a nice warm fuzzy feeling all day; something so little made someone elses day, not because of the actual cost, but the notion behind doing it. It was also nice to be called 'lass'; I usually cop 'young lady' these days, which always makes me feel like I'm in trouble for something.

"The only way to travel...

...by Pasha!" That lucky, lucky girl. And yes, I know I've spouted about my new found Pasha addiction before (here), but after watching So You Think You Can Dance last night, I just can't seem to quell my desire. You see, I was actually at Dog Training in the evening, but had the brilliant forward planning to tape it while I was gone. Unfortunately, I left the actual task of doing so up to a certain someone I live with (not mentioning any names here, Chef...) and I came home to an ejected cassette, signaling my recording had not been successful.
I quickly shoved some beer battered fries in the oven (nutritious dinner, anyone?) and settled down to catch the final moments, and praised the TV Lord for keeping Pasha safe. Of course, 20 minutes of Life Saving dances and Enrique Inglasias just wasn't enough. I had to carefully fast forward the tape, past all my episodes of Pirate Masters I never watched, through a special on Millionaire Dogs, and finally... to my love. Thankfully, there was enough time left after an episode of Nerds FC to see Pasha in action...and all I have to say is, he can put those Jazz Hands all over me at any time.

Hurrah!

I can't even think of a word to do justice to how indescribably happy I am right now - I'm just watching Antique Roadshow and randomly emitting excited squeaks. I did it! I got my bitch on, I stood up for myself, and I got out of my lease! I'm sure there will be some sort of repurcussion - my estate agent is a Narky Bitch from Hell - but for now, all I can think about is north facing windows, spa baths and durable fencing. For the first time in FIVE months, I can almost consider relaxing, and the dream of leaving my own house for longer than 4 hours is becoming marginally more realistic.

Comment of the day? Seah's hilariosity from a chat regarding having a shopping partner if I find my dream home nearby...

"I love shopping *wipes away single tear*".

Retail Therpy & My New Maddens = Happy Katie

My number one positive thing today? I got new shoes. New Steve Madden shoes. My mum put $10 towards them...so I had to pay $2.25. Yes. That is correct. I picked up Ruby Red Satin Pinto Steve Maddens for TWELVE DOLLARS & TWENTY FIVE CENTS at Myer today. They are the utterly adorable ballet flats on the far left, and 4th from the right. Yes. I broke down and bought flats, something I swore I never would. But hey, I need them for work, they're Steve Maddens, and need I repeat the $12.25?

I had to take a photo of them in all their splendor, along with the other shoes I may or may not have bought this week.

I say it like that, because they're still in hiding from the Chef, and if he doesn't know I have them, then I can't really have paid for them. Logical.

In general, I am happy - I went out with my mother today with $30, and returned with a horse riding jumper, a plaid halter neck with satin straps, a funky black work top, two aprons, 4 pairs of boyleg undies, a grey dress, a brown shirt, 2 packets of potato bake stuff for dinner, 18 lamingtons (not too many left..) 6 baubles for my Christmas tree, a stocking, 2 door hangers, 2 dog toys involving rope, 3 tennis balls, a toy horse, a book on holidaying with dogs, a horse manual, a new Porkys video, and of course my shoes. Power shopping is what I live for.

a quick plug for my rent boy.

I think the sign with the hunka spunk on pretty much says it all - check out his music here or his webpage here, and when November rolls around... buy his LP!

Seriously - support some home grown (well, if you're British) talent - he's mighty fine, ladies, I think you'll agree, and the more you buy, the more you'll see of him! Oh yes, and his music is totally fantastic :)