Reaching new heights

We had a five-day weekend over Easter this year thanks to another public holiday landing slap bang in the middle of that Christian pagan festival and so I took the opportunity to take my sloth-ness to startling new levels.

I ate. I slept. I ate some more. I trolled the internet for porn. I ate. I played WoW. I ate.

RInse and repeat for five whole days. Yep. My levels of sloth achieved were so impressive that I’m actually still surprised that I managed to do sooooooooooo little for soooooooooooo long.

It was good. Damn good.

Then I went back to work today and within an hour the twitch in my right eye had started again. Actually I’m thinking now that it’s not stress and just a poorly fitting contact lens. Do your eyeballs change shape over time? I’ve had the same contact lenses for about 5 years now and never had problems before. It just feels a bit ‘wrong’ like it’s a bit too small.

(Oh and for those kind souls who are going to leave me advice in the comments, I have 2 week disposable lenses, haven’t changed my cleaning solution brand, have tried it with two different new lenses and my prescription is -3.5. Feel free to mock my blindness if you haven’t got any advice….)

In my trolling for porn, somewhere between Saturday and Sunday, I got totally obsessed with anything slave-like and went searching for stories, pics and I eventually ended up trolling youtube for whipping/torture/slave-girl/harem clips from movies.

Then I was reading ‘training’ stories on literotica and getting more obsessed by the moment.

It was bizarro with a captial B.

In fact, I haven’t felt that kind of ‘fire’ for a good 12mths or more and it came out of no-where. Well, it probably came out of watching too much porn, but I’ve watched considerable amounts of porn over the past year or so and never felt fire like that in all that time. It was scarily reminiscent of me in my bdsm-n00b days.

Actually, I was this close, to asking M to tie me up and do nasty things to me, but I felt weird and totally embarrassed about asking him to do something like that, so I took matters into my own hands.

Did I mention a few weeks ago that I discovered the delights of rubber bands on boobies? I’ve always had an issue with rubber bands because my boobies are fairly non-existent and the normal rubber bands you get just fly off your tits and nearly take your eye out.

Then I thought of M’s stash of christmas pudding rubber bands (he uses them to cover the pudding bowls with cooking paper while they steam for 8 hours so they are pretty damn industrial) and voila! These babies stay on!! Yay… And if you add two or three…and some clover clamps…and some weights….and some pulling….well… *fans self*

I also did something else I haven’t done in literally for.ever:

I de-beavered.

I had a good two+  inches down there so it required half a tube of Nair,  two razors and half an hour. I now resemble one of those hairless cats. Rowr! Or is that, I can haz cuddlee blankie nao pls?

So that was my Easter. No easter eggs, but copious amounts of porn and chocolate. Mmmm..


PUMA=pineapple up my ass

That was my week at work.

And I now have a stress tic in my right eye that is driving me crazy and looks oh-so-sexy.

I’m soooooooooo asking for a pay raise in June.

That is all.

Thou knowst winter is upon ye when…

Your significant other orders you a cuddlee blankie:

(That’s not me by the way btw, but I do like her they-just-forced-me-into-this-pic-and-now-I-hate-my-life look because it looks disturbingly like mine…)

Beats a snuggie or a slanket anyday, I say. (Do they pay people to come up with these names???)

And zebra-print!! Look at it and weep people.

Why I think I’d be good in a cult

Tonight I watched part 2 of the series, Meet the Amish and once again I thought that I’d be fantastic in a cult.

Meet the Amish follows five Amish folk on their “Rumspringa” – their chance to experience the outside world before being baptised into the Amish religion from whence there is no return. They’ve sent them to England to stay with several different families and experience different things.

I think my first ‘encounter’ with the Amish was in that Harrison Ford classic Witness. I just loved, loved, loved it and have watched it a bazillion times. The whole idea of a society with very strict rules and beliefs speaks to me. There’s something very comforting about knowing your place and what is expected of you, all except for that fanatical belief in god bit (I just can’t stomach the fact that apparently we’re all going to hell because we have zippers on our clothing.)

Actually, I’ve always been very interested in cults. The idea that people can get so swept up in something that may not even be logical is so romantic and so attractive for me. I don’t know why exactly. That order and sense of peace just seems….nice.

I think that’s why the ‘cult’ of M/s was so attractive for me. It set very definite rules and gave me a very defined place in the world – a box to live in so to speak. I like that simple state of existence. I like the idea of being centred on one thing and one thing only. You have to believe in it though, and without that belief it’s just a bunch of quirky stuff that really does look weird from the outside.

And now in more depressing news

Every Saturday morning for the last month, I’ve sat down with a big-ass cappuccino, some crumpets with honey and the latest photo journals from Japan.

During the first couple of weeks, there were many, many pictures of the wall of water that had been flashed all over the foreign media and now that the foreign media has moved on to more dramatic and sensational things, the ‘quiet’ pictures that tell another story are emerging.

Last Saturday I saw this one:

People picking through piles of photos, letters and personal belongings that had been collected from the mountains of rubble and thick mud. There was much debate about what should be saved – clothes? books? teddy bears? They’ve also incorporated a system of flags of various colours to be left on the remains of the houses to indicate whether the owners give permission for the rubble to be removed or whether they wish it to remain untouched.

But in many cases there is no one left to leave the flag as evidenced by the graves marked with nothing but numbers.

In some cases the bodies were too badly decomposed to identify. In other cases, there was no-one left to identify them. Eventually these bodies will be exhumed and cremated, but whether they will ever have a name is another question.

I think the saddest story though is the one of the Ookawa Elementary School in Ishinomaki. After the earthquake, the students were assembled on the school oval for a roll-call as many parents were on their way to collect them.The tsunami raged up the river for 6kms and engulfed the two-story school building and the oval. Of the 108 students and 11 staff, only 24 students and 2 staff survived. All that was left were rows of small school bags and library book bags.

But things are slowly returning to normal. Sendai airport is about to be re-opened and some people have already been moved into temporary housing built up on the hill in Rikuzentakata. The roads have been mostly cleared and you can start to see what used to be.

In the shelters, tents and mini-dividing walls have been erected in some places to give people some privacy.

But it’s a long road to normalcy with damage on this scale. I keep looking at the pictures and wondering, just where do you begin?


There are lots of things I do that I don’t understand. Things like:

  • Why I must only use three sheets of toilet paper when wiping my peachy ass.
  • Why I actively seek jobs dealing with people when dealing with people makes me want to slash my wrists on a regular basis.
  • Why neighbours must use power tools at ungodly hours on Sunday mornings.
  • Why I can only poo regularly when I’m running – four days in a row now of regular bowel movements, thank you very much!
  • Why two out of four of the things above deal with toilet habits – am I that hard up for topics to blog about?

I had a horrendous week at work. On Tuesday afternoon, I was so over it that I contemplated just not turning up for the rest of the week. By Friday afternoon, I just ended up laughing in a kind of slightly hysterical way when I was informed that there was yet another fuck up that I had to deal with. I’m starting to get a real feeling of dread whenever I hear the phone start ringing. I start sending vibes out to the universe with the first brrrrriiing, ‘Please don’t let it be for me, oh-please-dear-god, don’t let it be for me!’

I’ve only been at this job for three months and today is officially the end of my three-months-probation. I don’t know if I can hack it. I think I should have stuck at my sucky previous job and got a second job somewhere to make ends meet. At least my stress levels would have been lower.

Actually all this stress has made me want to retreat into my shell away from people and the world. I’ve been playing a lot of WoW and just enjoying the mindlessness of it all. I even made a worgen last night and spent two hours levelling her up while sitting next to M on the couch. Secretly, I’m trying to entice M into playing WoW with me. It’s one thing I’ve never been able to do all this time, but I’d just love to romp through the woods with him. He has seen me doing raids and bgs on my main and alts and the busy-ness of the screen has turned him off. I’m trying to make him see that it starts out very simply and you can make it as complex or as easy as you like. It’s a bit of a lost cause though and so I continue to spend my days romping through the forest alone.

Speaking of WoW, I was in the middle of a boss fight yesterday morning when M came up behind me and screwed my collar on. I called no-fair-play as he knows that is the one time that I am totally defenceless and he can do what he wants. I don’t get his idea of me wearing the collar on the weekends. It’s stoopid, annoying and totally meaningless. The only thing it gives me is a neck ache and it messes with my sleeping. But hey, whatever floats his boat.

In other news, the running twat has returned! Yes, people, I started my half-marathon training course in anticipation of doing the half-marathon in the City2Surf in August. Unfortunately, after taking three months off from running, my fitness has gone to total shite and I’ll need to spend a bit of time just getting back to where I was before. There is a 10km charity race next month that I am considering doing as an interim goal, but I’ll see how I go. So I’ll be doing some more entries in the running twat section of this blog over the coming weeks for my massive fan base of two people who were kind enough to read about my running exploits before.

I’ve been continuing to keep up with the unfolding story of post-earthquake and tsunami Japan. It’s just heart-achingly sad to read the stories and see the pics. I’ll probably do a couple of uberly depressing posts here just so I can get the stories off my mind and chest. Sad, sad stuff. I got all nostalgic yesterday and started listening to classic Japanese songs and made a playlist on youtube of my favourites. They all take me back to time that was happier and when things were easier.

I’m still wrestling with the idea of driving. M has started playing driving games with me whenever we go somewhere together. He’s trying to impart to me his defensive driving techniques learned from several advanced driving courses he has taken over the years. Me, I’m full of confidence that I’ll be okay as long as I can get started. It’s a huge, huge wall for me at the moment, although every time I’m stuck at the bus stop waiting 30 minutes for the next bus, the wall starts being chipped away. I’m hoping that eventually I’ll get so pissed with public transport or so fearful of my life now that the days are shorter and I’m catching buses in the dark, that I’ll take the plunge and make the call to that driving school I found online.

Bring on the easter holidays. I’m so totally ready for that five-day-weekend.

(Oh and that three sheets of toilet paper thing. I dunno, three sheets just somehow seems right. If I make a mistake and take four sheets, I put one back for next time.

Feel free to laugh at me…I know I certainly do.)

It’s not a tumour…or is it?

My sister’s visit to the specialist resulted in a, “We don’t think it’s a tumour, but we really don’t know what you’ve got” diagnosis.

Apparently tumours don’t show up as particular colours on an mri and they detected other areas of inflammation on her brain. All her blood tests were clear though, so at the moment, MS is still on the table. She has to wait two months and have another mri so they have a comparison of what is happening.

Two more months of mulling, worrying and why me??s

We’ve had a flurry of phone calls and text messages over the past few weeks.Being that talking on the phone scares me shitless and I avoid it like the plague, I don’t tend to call much so I think I’ve had a year’s worth of phone calls in the last week.

There have been lots of sobering comments from my normally sassy and oh-so-dry sister along the lines of, “I’ve still got lots of living to do,” and “How are my kids going to grow up without a mum?” that you just don’t know how to respond to.

It’s not been good.

And I’ve not been good.

I’ve been on a food bingeing bender and I’ve been craving things that make me feel in control and independent. I think this is what is behind my recent feelings of wanting to be behind the wheel of a car – that and I keep thinking ‘what if?’ and how I’ll need to be able to drive to take her kids to school…

I’m totally fixated by the thought of driving and scared shitless of it at the same time. In case you missed my discussion about why I don’t drive and you can’t be bothered to scroll back through five years of blogs, here’s a yoda summary:

Licence got.

Big accident had.

To Japan went.

Back to Australia came.

Fifteen years drive not.

Licence collecting dust in wallet, is.

Part of me is thinking that every other person drives, so why the hell can’t I? And the other part of me is getting totally worked up by it and I want to pee every time I think about it. M offered to take me ‘driving’ so I can get used to it, I but I think he’s working himself up so much about it that it’s totally turning me off the idea. He’s sending out such negative thoughts that I don’t think I want to put myself in that situation at all. I’m nervous enough by myself without him getting all super angsty.

In other independent thoughts stirring in my brain, the whole whiny, needy, dependent slave stuff is a total turn off for me at the moment. It totally grates on me to even consider being back there and I honestly don’t think I could even pretend to be there.

I’ve been thinking about getting rid of all the old posts on here, just because that’s not who I am anymore. I feel embarrassed and very self-conscious of what used to be. I dunno….

For everything, there is a time?