Remembering Ruby

My dogs truly bring all types of good things (minus the fleas) - today I received a wonderful book in the mail from a lovely woman named Melisa Wells, all the way from the U S of A.
She somehow stumbled across my Dogger Bloggy, left me a nice comment, and since then I've been following her process of publishing and promoting her book, Remembering Ruby - For Families Living Beyond The Loss Of A Pet.
The photo were gorgeous, the story; although terribly sad, really was brilliant in tying in relevant information and not being too overwhelming for children. Having said that, it would be a great guide for children of any age - and parents needing a little guidance and advice.

Yep, I'll never be a book reviewer. But in all seriousness, check out Melisa's Remembering Ruby journey here, and then go order yourself a copy.

...no words, just giggles and wiggles.

...in other news, I'm still feeling like shite from my weekend. I'm getting too old for this kind of thing.

I went to an engagement party, and took advantage of the free champagne. And wine. And then the really cheap scotch. Not a particularly good combination, once the cake was added. The highlight of the evening was the disturbing bathroom facilities - the party was being held at a local lawn bowls club, and instead of 'If it's not on, it's not on" and general STD awareness signs on the back of the cubicle walls, there was "free breast screening for over 55's". As I was searching for an extra roll of paper, I became aware of the lacy net curtains running around the perimiter of the room - then realized the 2nd roll of loo paper was artfully sewn into said curtains. There was then a 'powder room' with vast floral arrangements and white wicker chairs covered in white lace doilies. It's strange seeing how other people live.

By the time I made it home it was time to get up - I was off to my Grandmothers to make Christmas Puddings and various other tasty delights. All was well (after several cups of tea, some NoDoze and a lot of ginger biscuits) until she poured brandy in my mixing bowl. The smell of fermented five buck chuck did nothing to ease my stomach, but I still managed to consume vast amounts of pavlova, chocolate bavarian and custard tart. Drool.

I was going to add photographic evidence of my drunken decline throughout the evening, but they're just too embarrassing. I tend to lean a lot the more I drink, and then I start squinting in an attempt to prove I'm not tipsy. Not hot.

So here is one of the start of the night, when I was only a few champer's in - and totally happy because I am so deeply in love with this song right now, and got to listen to it pumping thru A's new stereo in the car on the way there. I'm such a bogan.

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Now playing: Samim - Heater [Original Mix]
via FoxyTunes

if only...

This morning I hopped off the train early, as 3 thugs with knives sat next to me. Luckily I still made it to the city early, and managed to sit next to a stunning Canadian guy, enjoying my Light Iced Caramel Macciato, and sat watching Santa terrify small children. I'm now sat eating nachos with my mum, watching the ice hockey on fox at Australia Arcade. Life rocks. - sent from my hiptop3

Don't carry nothin' that can be a load

I have returned!
Yes, I actually went camping in my Mother's back yard. And it wasn't as geeky as I suspected. I spent hours talking and giggling with mum, drinking numerous cups of tea and eating her entire chocolate biscuit collection, and watching silly T.V in between walking the dogs and checking out some real estate near her. We had a slightly abusive and threatening letter from our landlord on the way down, which put a bit of a dampner on our trip, but we used it to our advantage and looked at some truly revolting houses. It seems 'renovated' means the kitchen cupboards don't meet, or the floor's on a slant and there's writing all over the walls. "Fully fenced" meant a strip of barbed wire going around the solitary house in a cow field, and "established gardens" actually refers to the mosquito larva infested pond surrounded by waist high grass.

Still, I had a good time, and it makes me realize how much I miss being close to my family.




^ An extremely unexciting video of my local beach.


And today I'm busy dealing with estate agents, faxing off house applications and heading into the city to meet mum for a coffee. We obviously need to meet the day after I leave to dissect my trip and every conversation all over again. And it's an excuse for a Venti Gingerbread Frappucinno with Whip. I love Christmas (& Starbucks).

It's a gorgeous day, and I'm having a massive laundry crisis. I finally received the shorts & dress I bought from eBay 5 months ago, and they're both hideous. Although I have the shorts in jeans, I managed to buy them in a size too big. Always the way. So they're on my 'mending' pile and I'll sometime in the future turn them into a masterpiece.

Bunnykins is still without a name, and still eating at an alarming rate.

...And...it's the finale of So You Think You Can Dance tonight! {Hence my song choice for today!} How excitement!



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Now playing: Michael Jackson - Michael Jackson - Ease on down the road (The Wiz soundtrack)
via FoxyTunes

My (new) girl wants to party all the time.

I have a little bit to update.
Firstly, I love Christmas. Absolutely freaking adore it. So I can't help but share my excitement, which in turn leads me to this photo. My fireplace looks so merry, even if Santa may have trouble getting down it with it being blocked and all.

Secondly...I started my first day at my new job this morning. Well, practically in the middle of the night. I worked with a charming young lady named Shazza, who vomited profusely all morning.
Still, it wasn't as bad as I had feared, and I got paid to do a whole lot of nothing really.



And, I realize I've got a bit of a "Saving the World One Pet at a Time" thing going on, but I honestly didn't mean to end my first shift by bringing home another pet. I'm just sort of a magnet to these sorts of things. And the lady needed to get rid of her before tomorrow morning, so of course I said she could come home with me...the rabbit, not the lady.

She's happily ensconsed in my back bathroom until I get her hutch home tomorrow, and is busily eating her way through my entire stock of carrots and some corn flakes. If her appetite is anything to do by, she's clearly not too stressed by her move.

And, of course, she needs a name. Suggestions, people?
I've had a look at a few 'names for bunnies' websites, and there's some shockers, from Rabitus the Hoppitus the Furry the Fourth (what a mouthful!) to Floppy Puff Puff.
I'm thinking something like Domino, as she's steel grey and white, or maybe something a bit gay like Armani or Jazz.



Please note: She is far more adorable in 'real life'. The photos totally don't do her justice - she's got a whole heap of cute little dots on her back, and is incredibly soft (except her claws).

{UPDATE: There's a little poll thingy on the left hand side where you can register votes if you're too lazy to comment or give me something original!}

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Now playing: Sharam - My girl wants to party all the time
via FoxyTunes

It's a sure fire way to ruin my day

I'm running hideously late. I'd promised a friend I would go watch some sort of charity soccer match they're in today, clearly forgetting Seah's Engagement & Housewarming party last night. Hello, hangover.

So I struggled out of bed, and have made it as far as my little Mac under the guise of uploading more songs to my iPod. I figure I'll be needing some entertainment to keep me alive through the whole ninety minutes in my current state.

Then I thought I'd called said friend, and see if he'd like me to take his dog along with mine, and we can have a little puppy play date on the sidelines for a few minutes while he's playing. He said he thought it would too much of a long day in the heat for her, and I mentioned I was bringing my two, as I was sure they could handle an hour or two in the sun with lots of interesting people to drool on and flirt with. Then the bombshell hit.

I swear he didn't tell me it was a Round Robin when I promised to go. There's no way I would offer to get up early so I could watch sweaty men running around a field showing immense skill and passion for 12 hours...

Weeeeell.....maybe just 10.

But still. I had visions of quietly nursing my visit from the Hangover Fairy with a good book, some big sunglasses and a nice bottle of freshly squeezed juice, then drowning my sorrows (and possibly myself) in the ocean this afternoon, after a nice brunch in a water front cafe. Is that too much to ask?

I'm looking on the bright side. There will be lots of time to contemplate my Hollywood costume, read a good book, roast myself nicely on the hood of my car and slowly evolve back to a fully functioning human being. Check out my updated post below for images of the place I'm going to be rocking my Celebrity sexyness at.

{I'm sure it's true Kava doesn't give you a headache. I think it was swilling it down with Vodka and Bourbon mixed together that wasn't the brilliant idea}.



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Now playing: Groove Armada - Song 4 Mutya
via FoxyTunes

Baby, you can touch my knob for free...

{Those lyrics may not be 100% accurate, but you win some; you lose some}.

Now to business...

I've been invited to a party. Stop the press! The only slightly disturbing part is the theme.

Hollywood.

It's a corporate Christmas break up, and is taking place in the most amazingly beautiful restaurant I have ever seen. This causes a problem.

I don't know how to achieve classy. I can do slippers & sweat pants. I jokingly said I would go as Paris Hilton or some type of Playboy Bunny, as this cancels out the problem of having to find something to wear. My only suggestions so far have been to turn up as Dolly Parton. Or a Hobbit.

{Ok, so I couldn't get any decent images.}

So, I'm open to options.


...ideas anyone?



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Now playing: Timberland - The Way I Are
via FoxyTunes

Right beneath the sign with the dusty yellow stars

It's kind of sad that my mother thinks I am so 'grown up' she's downsized her home. It's not that I'm not happy she's enjoying her new home, it's more selfish than that. I miss having a place to run away to when I need some comfort, home cooked food and a good giggle over silly things only her and I understand.
I've kind of been upset by this for a while - I feel kind of neglected, to be honest - so I'm taking matters into my own hands.

If she thinks I'm so independent now, I'll just have to show I really am. Instead of packing my car with a spare pair of knickers and a few good books, I'm going to stuff my car with portable chairs, packets of noodles and a sleeping bag. No more going home to my stuffed toys, David Beckham posters & my single bed.

I'm going camping.


...in Mum's back garden.

{And yes, that really is my local beach. See why I miss living there so much?}




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Now playing: Cake - Alpha Beta Parking Lot
via FoxyTunes

In life I loved you dearly, in death I do the same.

- R.I.P -
- - B a s i l - -

Close your eyes, my longtime friend,
let this time of suffering come to a peaceful end.

.

We who choose to surround ourselves
with lives even more temporary than our
own, live within a fragile circle;
easily and often breached.
Unable to accept its awful gaps,
we would still live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only
certain immortality, never fully
understanding the necessary plan.

All the handsome men are gay...

I had a job interview today. I say interview, but basically it was an induction and a chance to meet the head boss, as I'd pretty much been told I had the job. Although I think the job is a bit crap because a) it's for the same company the Chef works for, b) I have to wear man made fibre uniform and c) drive a hideous little van and pack peoples possessions, it's fairly decent pay and I think I get the chance to boss grown men around. Wicked.

Generally when I go for interviews, I get wildly excited at getting the chance to dress up, and, lets face it, act like a show pony. So I was a little nervous about heading to an early morning meeting with the boss in a company that only employs one other female, who is apparently a bit of a bush pig. What does one wear? Are heels going to be a bit much? If I wear too short a skirt, will I flash everyone when going up stairs? How shallow can I be? In the end I opted for my second favorite 'feel good' outfit. My usual ego booster is a cute little black button down dress, with bright red belt for that burst of energy. But today I was feeling a little blue, hence the shirt choice. I think it went down well, although I accidentally implied I receive money for taking my top off in public. I tend to babble a lot when nervous. Heck, who am I kidding, I'm always tripping over my tongue.

Here I am, emphasizing my usual lack of concentration (there was an insect on the wall).
And I thought I'd ad the one on the left, simply because I look like I have ManBoobs.

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Now playing: Robbie Williams - Supreme
via FoxyTunes