Wednesday, January 28, 2009

this one's for the bloke next door

Today has reached a ridiculous 41 deg Celsius (105.8 deg Farenheit apparently) and it isn't going to be any cooler than that for the next four days. I've spent the day migrating from one establishment with air conditioning to another, focusing on those that can let me watch the Australian Tennis Open at the same time. What is it with long sporting events that makes me not want to miss a second? Ninety minutes of a soccer game fails to keep my interest, but just watch me get into a five day cricket test match. Breaking for afternon tea beats any Beckham footwork any day.

Now luckily I have the use of a car with air conditioning as well. Although it is pretty old and not really that cold, it does manage to drop the internal car temperature from The Surface Temperature of The Sun to Oh My God, My Eyeballs Just Melted.

But it works in an utterly stupid way. As far as I can tell, car designers have determined that the best place to install air vents is right where the hands of the driver are on the steering wheel. This means that with the air-con blasting my hands are suffering frostbite while my face is dropping off in a manner not dissimliar to the climax scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I've given it some thought and decided that the air vents need to be moved. One should be in the center of the steering wheel to ensure a cooling breeze on the face at all times, while a second should come in from under the steering wheel to hit at about chest height. At least ten more should be placed around the car so that people in the back seat don't have to wait half an hour until the second-hand cool air traverses to the back of the car.

Of course, none of these brilliant ideas are going to help me in the next four days, but I'd just like it to be known that I'm available to consult with any car companies interested in my amazing ideas. Assuming, of course, that I haven't totally liquified in the meantime.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

I've got this mothering thing down pat

So yesterday I rolled on over to my brother's place so he could cook me a fantastic meal of kangaroo and let me play with his kids. They live halfway out to woop-woop, so I'd volunteered to spend this morning looking after the eldest kids so my sister-in-law could get stuff done in the Big Smoke. Ok, the Medium Smoke.

However today has turned into a scorcher and my brother's bushfire prevention plan (being out halfway to woop-woop as he is and in a bushfire risk area) is to get the hell out on hot days. Just in case the bush around the house explodes suddenly into flames and blocks the one escape route.

So I packed the kids into the car and brought them into the Medium Smoke, where I knocked on my mother's door, shoved the kids in her arms and went and had a nap.

I just got up to find they'd baked biscuits and now Nanna is helping them paint the footpath with water.

Yeah, this gig rocks.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

OMG! Like, Totally!!

I was once a teenage girl. Ok, that's probably not much of a shock to anyone who thought through the situation properly, but I REALLY only realised it about thirty minutes ago. Because that's when I sat down and started reading the notes the girls in my class wrote to each other in high school.

This afternoon I started clearing out the boxes of my previous life that my mother has been carting around for the last decade and out popped the notes. I knew they were in there - every night in highschool I'd empty my school uniform pockets of notes and shove them all into one of two containers on my chest of drawers. Those containers were thrown intact into storage, complete with years of in-fighting, declarations of Best Friends Forever and "I so TOTALLY don't like him! You so TOTALLY do!"

Man, there's some scary stuff in there and the scariest thing is that I still do remember how heartbreaking it was to have my bff go and sit next to someone else in class or not talk to me for all of twenty minutes. The world revolved around this tiny classroom and the complex inter-relationships of the combatants. Reading these notes is like watching the Bold and the Beautiful- only without all the steamy sex scenes. At this stage we found just brushing the arm of a guy you liked waaaayyy more intensely sexual than anything we'd ever experienced before.

A couple of the notes I did find amazingly cute, including a list of tapes a friend had that I could copy. I give you... 1989

Dirty Dancing Soundtrack
Transvision Vamp - Velveteen
Madonna - Like a Prayer
Roxette - Look Sharp
Bananarama's Greatest Hits
James Reyne - Hard Reyne
Daryl Braithwaite - Edge


Additionally I have a note which references two people that I can't for the life of me place. It's from Sally, who'd apparently never met me but feels like we were friends, and she had a message for Chris. There's this guy in Japan she's got a thing with, so she's not into you.

Sorry, dude.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

next it'll be flashcards with chemical structures

The past month of being in Australia has given DrH and I the chance to get to know the two nephews born since we were last here, and the two nieces we previously had met but have now reached the more interesting stage of speaking.

In a bonding session with one, who I'll call Curly, DrH had her show of her advanced mathematical skill by counting one to ten.

"onetwofeeive" said Curly.

"Four five," corrected DrH.

"forivesixsebenateineten."

"Very good!" he enthused. "Now, can you say chlorophyll?"

Monday, January 05, 2009

new look. again.

In celebration of the New Year and the fact that Australia is still slightly cheaper and has two for one offers, I have gone out for a new look and bought TWO new glasses frames.

Number One: The sexy business woman




Number Two: The eccentric (yet still sexy) librarian



If you've forgotten, here are my previous ones (and another incarnation of my hair), although as they are all the same prescription I imagine I'll still slip into those ones too.

My hair has also taken on a new gestalt. Gone is the brown, the grey, the red and the heavy fringe which made me look like Velma from Scooby Doo has been replaced with a thinner, crooked look.

Because that just makes me look so damn cool.