Things that make you go SQUEEEEEEE!

Here are a couple of things that have released my inner SQUEEEEEE recently:

This was posted by a friend on FB and I think you'll agree the cuteness-overload is nearly blinding.


Then I saw these Demonia Bat shoes, which are available through Tragic Beautiful (coincidentally owned by the same FB friend who shared the bunny photo) and they made me SQUEEEEE out loud at fairly high volume!

And then there's this utterly adorable newborn photo taken by my very talented friend Jen at Annarose Photography. Don't you just want to eat him up??


And those are just some of the things that make me go SQUEEEEEE!

STxxx

WTF was I THINKING?

I think it's a form of Tourettes. I find myself in a moment - could be anytime, anywhere, anything - and my mouth just says the STUPIDEST thing possible. My brain then realises what my mouth just said and disowns my entire body.



Example - I just stopped at the bottle shop for a bottle of wine and packet of smokes (yeah, I'm all class, me) and while waiting my turn to pay I find myself mildly amused by the hand-stitched tiny white curtain blocking the cigarette packets from my view, so I decide to light-heartedly comment on said curtain to the rather hawt young dude at the counter. It went a li'l bit like this:

Me: Oh, cute - you have to hide the cigarettes now?

Him: Yeah *checking out hawt young girls giggling at 6 pack of Cocksucking Cowboy shooters*

Me: Erm, did you make that curtain yourself?

Him: No *checking out anything except me*

Me: Hahahahahaha, no, I suppose not. *cringing inwardly and wishing large hole would appear beneath my feet*

*awkward moment*

*dramatic pause*


Me: Ah yes, I remember when they cost less than a dollar a packet *said in wistful tone with deep sigh*

Him: Um, ok - that'll be $35 please

Me: *presses Eftpos buttons* *runs away very quickly*

Oh yeah - that was smooth, T! Let's firstly accuse hawt dude of being a secret curtain-maker, then let's dismiss that offhand as though it's unmanly, even though it really isn't. Then let's follow up with another comment that just covers all the bases - I'm roilly, roilly cool 'cos I've smoked since the dark ages and oh, yeah - I'm really fucking old, too.

*sigh* I felt so fucking stupid it reminded me of the time last week at Woolies where I was doubled over, legs crossed, battling through a coughing fit (flu-related, not smoking, I swears), looked up and caught the eye of a couple of skinny teenaged girls in jeggings looking at me and commented "yeah, you go and give birth to 3 big-headed babies and then tell me how perky YOUR pelvic floor is..."

Sometimes I wonder why I let myself leave the house.

STxxx

Multi-vent Monday

Grrrrrr, boo, hiss and detest, I'm having a rant-worthy Monday, so I'm just gonna get it all out...

Centrelink -I hate you. I jump through your hoops, I even do so willingly, in grateful appreciation for the financial support you provide me with. But get this - this time I don't actually fit into one of your Neat Little Boxes. I would if I could, honest! I'd LUUURRVVE to fit into your Neat Little Box - but I. Just. Don't. I'm not going out of my way to make your life hell, I promise. I'm just in a little bit of a different situation, so would really appreciate a response other than "I'm sorry, I can only tell you what the law says" 20 times in a row. Yes, I realise this may involve consulting with a more senior staff member with the acute eyesight required to look outside the Neat Little Box, and yes, I am more than happy to make yet another appointment with said senior staff member. Today's appointment may as well have been me sitting opposite a photocopied stack of paper spelling out The Law, for all the good it did. Gah - you suck.

Dear Scalp - you're taking the pain factor of a sprained hair follicle to ridiculous heights, and I think it's time you stopped being such a drama queen and let me get on with some work without having to wince in pain every time I move my head. Yes - I did actually use the words "sprained hair follicle" - that well-known pony-tail fail injury.

Vapid-looking P-platers in hotted up Lancers - No words for you - just a visual today.



Dude fixing up my pergola - I know it's not your fault, so this is really aimed at your boss. The hailstorm that smacked Perth soundly across the face was in March. It is now September. I have lived all winter with a pergola roof that resembles thin slices of Swiss cheese. I realise there was probably a lot of call for household repairs after the storm, but seriously, dudes - 6 months? Repeated phone calls to repair company have resulted in one excuse after another - administrative cock-up, bit busy, sprained hair follicle - you get the picture. So then today, when someone actually shows up to do the job, I am SINGULARLY UNIMPRESSED with the fact that someone didn't order enough roof sheeting. You've had 6 months to do this. You've sent 4 different blokes over on 4 separate occasions to measure and you still cock it up. FAIL!

To my daugher's beloved scooter - next time I go anywhere near you please do me a huge personal favour and run away quickly, zap me with an electric shock or turn invisible - anything to keep me from attempting to ride you again after an afternoon at the pub. Kthxbai. PS - please send painkillers and heatpacks.

My new blog!

Well, as I mentioned in my last post, I've recently started as a Thermomix consultant here in WA and am having more fun playing with this gadget than I can possibly express!

I've also started up a new blog for all things Thermomix-related, which I hope you'll stop by and take a look at!

My new blog is called ThermoMixup and has recipes, links, cooking class information, tips, news and much more and you can find it Right Here!

Mwah!

ST
xxx