Coming to you from Melbourne...

We made it!
...and our adventures included:

• hanging out at the Meningie hotel with lots of very Wolf Creek like blokes asking us polite questions about where we were going and what car we were driving.
• Listening to Eagle Rock a lot.
• Fifi-Belle getting extreme paranoia about hitting a water buffalo or other enormous wild animal along the Coorong.
• but actually seeing no animals except two mice and a rabbit.
• going to Millicent music and finding heaps of Westlife CDs but no Jefferson Airplane's 'surrealistic pillow'.
• Posing for happysnaps in front of a hard looking ute.
• Getting crazily tail gated by a crazy pensioner with a blue heeler.
• taking down his numberplate and telling the nice policeman.
• who did NOT find our stash of weed, because we didn't take any.
• Driving for about 30 million hours.
• Seeing the Dirty Three yay!
• cooking t-bone steak in a suprisingly non crusty kitchen in our youth hostel.
• Getting a good night's sleep so I can drive for millions of hours again tomorrow!

amazing talking boonie

My talking boonie is pictured on the left of this picture. I don't know who the guy on the right is, I think he might be a marketing executive for Fosters.

more silly blog genres

(fig. 2: a typical picture from a couple blog)

At the risk of sounding like Bridget Jones, what's with couple blogs!!! They usually contain tons of pictures of the happy lovers celebrating their love. If they are married couple blogs (a particularly virulent sub-strain) they contain pictures of houses, kids, and weddings.

BLEURGH!!

UUURK!!!

YUKYUKYUKYUKYUK!!!!!!

As if the world isn't covered in enough soppy couples as it is! But surely a happy relationship is about more than boasting on the bloody internet! It's like these people are treating their lifestyles as some sort of consumer purchase, not an actual life. Its as though having a perfect relationship is a box that 'successful people' tick, along with the 'McMansion' box and the 'Monstrousity of a Flat Screen Television' box.

Horror Movie

I have to drive to Melbourne in a 35 year old car this weekend.

We were going to take my Mum's car but she accidently sideswiped a parked car and the passenger door won't open. Plus, its covered in dents.

Pauline's car is even less reliable than my car or mum's car, although its very cool.

My car was built in 1971.

In 1971, East Germany was still a communist country. People wore flares. Michael Jackson was Black. You could buy a house in Sydney for about $15,000. Black Sabbath were this exciting new thing.

I hope we make it!!!

blogging about jogging

I find running blogs very mysterious. I have come across a whole lot of blogs that totally consist of people's running experiences. I always thought running was a private penance that people did to avoid looking like Jabba the Hutt. (see fig 1. right) I hated doing any sort of sport at school and probably handed in more 'sick notes' than homework. But these people are so into jogging, they share their morning jogs with the whole internet???

Little Britain in Adelaide

Just about everyone in my life is a character from Little Britain.

I'm definitely Vickie Pollard... I really, really want a pink Kappa jacket. If I had a baby, I would definitely swap it for a Westlife CD. And I don't even like Westlife.

I turn into Dame Sally Markhamwhen I write my thesis.

If Pauline's mind snaps any more, she'll turn into Ray McCooney, the mysterious Scottish bard who answers all questions with a piccolillo. Except when he answers them with a fife.

Marjorie Dawes, the evil fat fighters lady, is a conglomorate of my last two bosses.

In honour of his appearance as Joyrene last Halloween, Ryan has got to be Emily Howard, who is a real lady, not a not-very-good trannie.

Anne the psychiatric patient is a retarded, still-living-at-home-at-35, born again christian I used to work with.

All the boys I like are Sebastian (or the crusty blacksmith's hot, hot brother).

All the boys who like me are Kenny Craig, the dirty television hypnotist.

food

I ate my lifetime quota of turnip today. And water, carrots, onions, peas, haricot beans, potatoes, cauliflower, green beans, parsnips, Swedes, sweetcorn kernels, chicken stock, celery chicken and yeast.
Today for lunch I ate Baxters Chicken and Vegetable Soup.
It was the first time I've eaten canned soup since I read a book about the Franklin expedition, where the soup contractor cut a few really disgusting corners.
It was quite nice stuff, but it was about as filling as a teaspoon of fairy floss. When I read the fine print, I realised it had 1% chicken. I had to eat another can about two hours later because it was that or eat the girl I share an office with.
It is a complete coincidence that I was reading the lyrics to Weddings Parties Anything's "A Tale They Won't Believe" at the time.
I spent the afternoon fantasising about eating a giant veal schnitzel covered with cheese and tomato sauce, with chips on the side. My fantasy schnitzel would probably be part of an Adelaide uni Unibar meal deal, where you also get a mini cadbury chocolate bar and a beer. Nice.
I think it was Frankl who said that the driving force of humans was not sex (freud) or spirituality (jung) it was food.
food food food food food.
food.
food is so good.
I'm going home to cook dinner now.

caffeine error

I have to reconsider my life. I tried to make a coffee today, and I actually made a mess of it.
I put the coffee in. I put the sugar in. I put the water in. I put the milk in .
But it didn't taste quite right.
I'd forgotten to boil the bloody jug.
Then I heated it up in the microwave and absolutely nuked it, leaving something like butter on top.
It tasted really crap but I drank it anyway.
One of the other PhD students down the hallway assured me that its just a sign that there are more important things taking up space in my mind. I'll go with that.

data entry is so boring

Data entry is so boring it makes me want to cry. I wish I had a PA.