you can almost hear the sci-fi-ish dramatic battle type music raging
on in the background. Is there anything that the three big'uns
(google, MSN and Yahoo) don't have their dirty mitts on these days?

(That rocks my socks. :D I checked my spelling, and google doesn't
have "MSN" in their dictionary... MAN MN MS MSW no MSN... heh.)

And is there any such thing as customer loyalty when, aside from
remembering less passwords, there really is no difference in whose
product you choose to consume. It's not like the old "I like Coles
but there's more car parks at Safeway" kinda dilemma.

Anyhoo... *cue rant* this all came up because I've just wasted
*hours* trying to get blogger (google) to put pictures up on this here
blog. Admittadly the largest part of the hours wasted were the
screens mindlessly loading whilst I wasn't at the computer but that's
not the point. The point is that it never actually ended up uploading
my pictures and so I've turned to flickr (yahoo) for my picture needs.
So ner ner google. I don't need you. You and your lousy not
uploading.

I bit through my lip in my sleep the other day. I woke up with the taste of blood in my mouth. Al four front teeth had happily sunk their way into my bottom lip in my less than restful sleep, evidently. It was all purpley and swollen and fun. And I think the nail impressions in my palms are slowly but surely becoming permanent.

It hasn't all been bad though, just busy. And no sleep-ish.

How does one get tired?

Look after the wee ones during the day

until the xadey one gets home from from work

then get dropped off at work. Stay there and work my sweet patootie off until 11-11.30pm and get home, preferabley to a house of sleeping childeren but sometimes to the smallest one still awake.

At every possible opportunity go out and get messy.

To become truely stressed though, one needs to have to spend time with their mother who they love dearly but honest to god, sometimes they feel like strangling. Aren't families just the most fun?

And have their house renovated. Still. Shuffling coffees out in my jammies is awesome. No really. Cant get enough of it.
(I considered putting in a pic of me in my jammies but there's only so much public humiliation one can stand... ; ) )

Hopefully life should slow down a little now... (she says again)

for my photos to upload, if they ever decide to do so...

Reading about space and pluto, <a href="<a
href="http://http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12223623&postID=115645487487584996"></a>">this</a>
in particular about a minute ago makes me feel queasy. Like
physically queasy. Like when you go down a steep hill or go fast on
the swings kinda queasy. It's like my body's all good with the
proportions of our world but when I think of all that space and size
out there is readjusts. Enter stage left that falling feeling. I'm
sure I'd make a terrible astronaut.

Bother. Indy keeps asking me for a pet mouse. Last week she was
after a rat. I don't actually mind pet rodents but I'm sure our cats
would love them perhaps a little too much.

for the first time ever- google is not my friend. Not my friend at all.

I'm trying to get into my blogger account and I can't seem to break in there.

Apparently google owns them now. And google doesn't want me in. Apparently.

to the Pope. Heya pope. Nice hat ; )

Heya Sezy Jane! :D

It's going to be close to something beautiful, dammit.

Looking at LadyJ's blog made me remember how I used to love walking my
dog through the bush near my house in Bendigo. The smell of
eucalyptus, sitting in the native grass, the little gum nuts and bits
of bark that'd stick to your clothes when you stood up again. The
organic feel of it. The trees filtered out the light along with the
rest of the world.

I used to take my school books down there and slowly work my way
through my homework whilst Alex chased the wind or tried to squish her
over-big body onto my lap until night crept up, signalled only by the
briefly flaming red sky overhead and the surprising cold.

In the last few years I've lived near a creek and the beach. Both
were lovely in their own ways. The creek had some of that same quiet
calm of the bush whilst the beach was... well... in St Kilda. When I
lived in the city I found that solitude in crowds. I loved the people
and the energy. I loved the roof of my building. There wasn't
anything better than heading up there with a cigarettes, red wine and
book.

Now there's nothing. We have a bunch of concrete in our backyard.
There's a park up the road but it's a wee little park edged with back
fences and full of kids and dogs. There's no cool places to walk to.
No nifty little hideaways. Nothing. Suburbia bites.

I must get onto fashioning a little Japanese garden out the front of
our house otherwise Imma gunna go nuts.

Where's Morang, Victoria?

Like Epping-ish?

Someone around here's from Morang and I'm all a puzzled as to who they
might be... Apparently they're here quite a bit.

My goodness! You're here now?!

Who are you? Mystery Morang person?

The ol' relationship has been super rocky.

We've all had/have gastro and now Indy has a chest infection. From
the sounds of it Dorians headed the same way.
.
Some fucker broke into our car turned everything upside down, stole
the change drawer and left some kids lunchbox full of moldy sandwiches
in way of compensation.

My mums sister and her husband came over from New Zealand the the sole
purpose of the visit, seemingly, to prove once more just for kicks
that they can behave like prats and this time in front of my elderly
grandparents.

I think my dad has turned to gambling too much and is most probably depressed.

My brother broke up with his long time girlfriend who I've referred to
for the last like 6 years as the big sister I never had.

My house is still a friggin building site, a fact which started the
first real argument I've had with Andrew (the step father) since I
started talking to him again 3.5 - 4 years ago.

Miss America went home.

And then there's Xalia.

I'm sure there's some other shit in there that I've forgotten but that
can suffice as explanation of lack of emails and vague blog posts and
snarkyness/general oddness if you did manage to get hold of me.

On the upside- My kiddo started moving about on the weekend! :D He
scoots on his butt. It's not crawling but it seems to be slightly
less frustrating than not being able to move at all. :D

My dad has clearly been yelled at by someone because he actually spoke
to me on the phone on Sunday rather than just fobbing me off with some
story about how he will call back later. Albeit about what a menace I
was as a child and how I'm stubborn and a wee bit of a disappointment
but hey, talking is talking. Beggers can't be choosers as they say.

My house got the most spectacular clean and is all sparkly like. Loverly.

Anyhoo. In honour of the end of this fairly craptacular month drinks
will be had on Friday. Lots of them. Lots and lots and lots of them.
I shall be expecting the regular crowd but you can all take this as a
general invitation. Jo's July Begone Party. There shall be drinks,
clearly, cute bartenders, most probably annoying aerospace engineers
but clevage to compensate. Details available by email. Be there or
be off the christmas card list. ; P