Another Day in The Office

I went to work on sunday for the first time in 4 days. Understandably, I wasnt excited about the prospect of going back to work, especially on a sunday.....

But I got lucky and landed a work partner who was about as enthusiastic as myself, and we made a unanimous decision to do as little as physically possible, and to spend as much time as possible participating in non work-related activities.

So we drove around, visited a couple of friends, stopped for a coffee, stopped for an icecream, stopped for lunch, bought socks on sale at Target.... we basically did the minimum required to stay employed and out of the managers office.

Which is why we found ourselves to be standing on the rocks out at Voodoo at 4pm on Sunday afternoon. I Dont know why its called Voodoo, but I do know that it is one of the most beautiful places that I have encountered in my short and rather sheltered little life.

Voodoo is at the end of a narrow 5km track at the end of a deserted road just past the Caltex Oil refineries which is just off Captain Cook Drive right out near Kurnell. The track leads you to a parking lot, and the parking lot stands infront of a gate, which leads you to Voodoo.

Voodoo is basically a huge sandstone point, high above the ocean, where the waves have sculpted and washed the sandstone into these amazing shapes, with caves and crannies and ledges throughout. When you stand there you feel like the smallest person on earth, like there is just you, the rocks, the ocean left in the world.

When I go to Voodoo I feel so many things. I feel completely in awe of the world. I feel lucky to have a job and live in an area that is blessed with such amazing natural beauty. And I feel really sad, really frightened and really lost. I think that there are ghosts at Voodoo. People have jumped before, and I feel like they are all still there....

I want to go to Voodoo and take photos. I want to have my wedding photos there. I want to sit there all by myself and just exist. The feelings that it brings out in my are so unexplainable, but they are like a drug and Im hooked. Ive been hooked for years.

I was going to post a funny story about the 3 Russian backpackers that we found at Voodoo that were looking for Cronulla train station. But for some reason I posted this instead. I guess I will save it for another day.

If you havent been to Voodoo, you really should take an hour and drive out to see. And let me know if you do ok?

A Little Senitmental

This is going to be a little sentimental cos thats how I feel. If you are not in a sentimental state of mind stop reading NOW. If you are up for the challenge keep going.....

There has been alot going on lately. Globally and locally events are occurring that are tragic, frightening and completely life changing. So I have been thinking alot.

Mainly about mortality. We are only here for a millisecond in the scheme of things and the truth is that you never really know when that millisecond will be up. We are all going to die, and thats not sad or really even scary, its just the truth.

Life is a gift. I dont know who from, some say God, I dont really know and its not really relevant. Whoever it comes from, life is the biggest gift you will ever recieve. And so I want to challenge you, my millions of loyal and devoted readers, to USE IT.

Im not saying change the world and singlehandedly solve the world hunger crisis. Im not saying we all need to be famous, cos not all of us are supposed to be famous, I dont think we should all be rich. Im saying that we need to appreciate the little things and make every moment as good as we possibly can.

If you see a chance to make yourself smile, take it. Even better, if you see a chance to make someone else happy, take it and give it to them. If a joke is funny share it. If someone looks like they need a smile and a hug, be the one who steps out and gives it to them.

Spend time with small children and dont be afraid to act like them. Hold hands with a loved one. Tell someone how much they really mean to you. Buy a random present "just because" and have the courage to give it away without feeling awkward.

Be friendly to someone you arent normalliy friends with, take a chance and make an outsider feel a little more welcome. Learn about who the people around you really are, instead of judging them on face value only.

This is success I think. Material objects and how many people know your name mean nothing if you are not loved and do not love. Awards and achievemts mean nothing if you are alone sad and closed off from the world.

I told you I was a little sentimental, I warned you, and you still read this. Dont laugh at me I am just saying it how I see it.

Crap

I am writing in blue because I am feeling blue. This is going to be depressing and sad but I really have no-one else to talk to so I am going to talk to whoever ever really reads and whoever ever really cares.
I am at home and all alone, hiding in the computer room so that no-one can see me and no-one will look at me. I am afraid that I have failed something, or someone somehow, but I dont know what I have done or to whom.
I am bawling my eyes out for no reason, for some reason the tears come and they dont seem to stop.
I feel like I am all alone. No-one calls me. No-one remembers me. I am confused. I am sad. I dont know what to do with myself.
Other people, when they get sad, when they are confused and upset they run to someone, to anyone, to the person that they run to. Right now I feel like they have all run to those people and I am the odd one out. I have no-one to run to and no-one is running to me.
I say fuck it, I say I will do it on my own but I dont want to I am not built like that.
I don't know what I am writing anymore, I think I will just run away and be someone else. Someone who always makes everyone else happy. Someone who is surrounded by people all the time.
Sorry.

Complexes

When I was 15, my best friend (who I must add is my best friend to this very day) told someone who told someone who told me that with my long hair and long face, I looked like a horse. Yes a horse, good ole miss horse face herself. Now I would like to say that I retaliated with quick witted humour, that I trumped her with a comeback so obscure and intelligent that it cut her straight to the bone, but if I said that I would be lying. No it actually hurt, and for the next 3 years everytime I looked in a mirror at my long thick straight hair, I thought to myself 'wow you really DO look like a horse'.
So at 18, with the cruel horseface taunt playing on repeat on the radio station that is my mind, I went to JustCuts at Miranda and got the whole lot chopped off. Cropped, spiked, short. Some have been known to say dikey.
See, the taunt, which my best friend can no longer even remember coming up with (though she did find it rather amusing when I reminded her and confessed that that was the cause for my short locks), well it became a complex for me. It haunted me to the point where it is only now, at the grand old age of 23, that I am comfortable with the notion of growing my hair back long.
I often fall victim to complexes. One person will say one thing in a fleeting comment, and BAM I'm agonising over my physical disability.
For instance, back in my born again christian days, it was a hot summers day and I wore thongs to church. My friend who was sitting next to me looked down and said "wow you have hair on the tops of yr feet" and went back to singing the praise and worship song.
So I looked down and sure enough, there was hair. I mean its not as if I have werewolf feet that look like built in furry ugg boots, but yeah there where a couple of stray hairs on the tops of my feet. Nothing too spectacular.
But the comment stuck in my mind, and I found myself finding more and more reasons to wear closed in shoes. In fact, after that comment, it was 2 years before I had the guts to wear thongs in public.
Then there was the girl who I was marking in a soccer game who said "wow you have the biggest muscles in your legs that I ever saw" Now I think this was actually meant to be a COMPLIMENT. But do you think I was seen wearing shorts or a skirt for the next 2 years? No way, you couldnt have paid me enough to show off those giant legs of mine.
The certain ex-boyfriend who nicknamed me RissaBelly cos of my belly? Yep you guessed it, No tight tops ever again. Or swimmers. In fact to this day I suck in whenever anyone goes near that region. Just ask the current man!
Now Im not sure why I felt the need to blog this, but I have two suggestions that I will let you chose from:
1) I wanted to prove to you all, once and for all, how much of a nutcase I really am... I mean Im sure that the men in white coats are just around the corner, waiting for the right moment to come and get me.....
2) This is therapy and I needed to get it all off my chest (my small chest. my tissue stuffed chest... AAAAAGGGHHHHH I feel a complex a'comin!!!)
I must dash, I have to go and will my boobs to grow for half an hour in the mirror....
Just jokin.

Nigel No Friends

It has recently come to my attention that I do not have a set group friends. Oh I have friends, and I even have friends that have been known to congregate in groups. But it has been discovered that I do not have that group of childhood friends who have known each other for so long that they can reminisce about primary school, that group who played sport together, went to school together, smoked bongs together, cheated on each other, fought with and bitched about each other, backstabbed and used each other.....

Oh right, thats why.

See I had friends in primary school.I even had a group of friends. We had a gang. We were rebellious. We sat OUT OF BOUNDS. We were real tight, we all sat together and had sleepovers...... Then I got changed classes into the "smart" class (Im not boasting, its the truth, ok?) and suddenly they thought I thought I was too good. Which at the grand old age of 10 was news to me, it had never occured to me that I was smart or particularly good- I wasnt even a fast runner! I couldnt do a handstand! How good could I be?

Now in this designated "smart class" I again started off on the right foot, group of friends, birthday parties, sleepovers.... Then my physical disabilities began to hinder me- I wore glasses, and I was rather on the "chubby" side of life. now by chubby, I mean a few kilos overweight, not childhood obesity fat boobs at 7 type chubby. Festively plump is more accurate. But unfortunately being a four eyed thunder thighed butter ball does not make you "most popilar girl in the world" material anyway.

Now with both of these groups Im sure I could have begged. I could of grovelled for their acceptance and agreed to be their slave in return for the charity of their friendship. Actually, in the case of the last group, I think that is pretty much what they wanted me to do.

But its not in my makeup to be so undervalued and it is NOT in my makeup to beg and grovel for the acceptance of people that really isnt worth it in the first place. I might have been young, but I had a good enough judgement of character to recognise petty superficial morons when I saw them.

Besides, to be honest, I didnt really like them all that much anyway.

Now in High School, when most people quickly found their circles and formed their cliques, I found that I really didnt fit any of the little groups that popped up. Not beautiful, not nerdy. Arty, but not in the way of the arty girls. Not sporty enough for the sporty ones. Not "fully sick" enough for the Bankstown Girls.

Now I guess that some people learn to assimilate and to become like those around them specifically so they fit in. Now I may have tried this at many stages but it never worked and my true colours always shined back through. oopps.

So I sat in the "assorted misfits" pile and gradually we sorted ourselves into our own little sub-misfits groups. My best friend (to this very day) was also an assorted misfit.

So there you all go, my dirty secret uncovered. I dont have a group of friends that I grew up with and who remember the time I farted under the ping pong table at Sharons 7th birthday party when we were hiding from Naomi (but now you guys know anyway.... doh). Oh, the shame, the dirty dark shame. Indeed.

To be honest, I dont think it is really such a horrible thing. I have friends of all ages and from all walks, and I probably would not have had the honour of meeting some of them if I was hiding in the comfort of my own group. But thats just my opinion, and my opinion is based on the fact that I am happy.....

Indeed

Sick Days

TO THE PERSON who started this evil, wretched nauseating virus that is currently infecting the Sutherland Shire- in future, please keep your feral bugs to YOURSELF!!!!
This bug, which has swept through our little social circle, is also sweeping thru local preschools, and is a potential threat to my ENTIRE WORKPLACE, is one of the worst I have ever personally encountered.

To put it in the words of the man in my life "its like ebola that only lasts for 24 hours." Damn straight it is. Every orifice. And thats putting it politely.

4 hours into it and you hardly have the strength to sit on the floor of the shower. You want to sleep but you cant. You want to read but you cant. It is worse than the worse comedown in the world.

But the worst part it- I HAD TO USE A SICK DAY FOR THE PURPOSE OF BEING SICK!!! How unfair is that? Sick days are my "get out of work free" cards: for use in desparate situations when really really over the work place. There is no point in having a day off if you cant ENJOY it!

Sick days are supposed to be used for things like rebellious mid week shopping sprees or trips to the easter show, not for sitting on the couch feeling like shit, watching crappy dvds while wearing you boyfriends daggy t-shirt and toobig socks, sipping flat lemonade and trying to hold down vegemite on bread! Sick days are small pleasures that are meant for living!!

On a high note, the man in my life did a wonderful job of taking care of his ailing girlfriend even though he was sick as a dog also. Lovely man he is.

Oh, and my stomach is flatter than its been since my birthday last year where I drank til 8am in the morning and then vomited to 9pm the next night. Viral weightloss, the new diet by Rissa......

Well Im off now, to gorge in all the foods I missed since my appetite is back (2 days without chocolate is a long and torturous time for me) and to gain back the weight I lost......

Epiphany

Well, kind and loyal readers, it has happened. I have had an EPIPHANY. And while that may sound rather painful, it is not really the cruel and unusual activity that I thought it might be.

Before I go any further, I must shamelessly promote the fact that my friend amy now has joined us in the world of unread blogs. Amysmentalward. Amy is just as weird as me, maybe even weirder (and amy I know you love me in a lesbian way, but lets keep that quiet, you know it will never happen).

Ok, my epiphany. I was going to rant and rave about the evils of giant fast food corporations (watched supersize me on fri nyt), but I think I will leave that for another day. My epiphany is far more important than my newly discovered war on fast food.

It all begins with a song, and a very boring nyt shift. Doesnt it always? So yeah, driving I was drivin through downtown Kurnell, on my way to freak out the bong smokers at the point (my work car has warning lights on it, similar to the coppers ones), when love song dedications (yes sad I know, but it was slim pickings radio wise this eve) started playing Hands by Jewel. So I cranked it and started singing my lil heart out (very badly). Ive heard the song a million times, I know the words off by heart. Its an old fave.

This time however, for some reason unknown to me, be it God, be it aliens in lil spaceships, be it a very large coffee with caramel from Gloria Jeans, a line stuck out to me, and suddenly presented itself to be the answer to so many lil niggling problems.

In the end, only kindness matters

Der, you may say we know this but have you ever really thought about it? The money I make, the things I buy, the promotions I get- will never make a difference. Who cares about it when everything is so very fragile? Life could change in an instant- in fact thats the only way it does change.

What matters is the people I effect, the manner in which I deal with them and way I make them feel. We are all walking testimony to the people around us.

If I am kind and effect you in a way that is positive, if I do something small that makes you smile, then I have given you something that you did not have before. And even if you dont realise it, you pass it on- the kindness, the smile, that stupid joke that makes you giggle.

And when I give that kindness and recieve kindness in return, I dont focus on the negatives, I dont find things to get me down. The kindness grows, and therefore we all grow.

So I am going to be kind. I am going to go out of my way to make your day. I am going to smile at someone who looks sad. I am going to make time for someone who needs it. Its like that movie pay it forward. I think it might be what I need.

This could all be just me talking outta my ass, Im tired and I just had a most mindnumbing night in the office. But it might not be.

I dunno.

Being Blind

Glasses can make you look, studious. They can make incredibly feeble minded raving idiots appear to be intellectual and insightful. They shield our eyes from the sun, they make us look cool. Some of us, and I think we are actually a minority group, even use them to correct our vision.

Which is why the unfortunate events of this morning happened.

I rose gracefully from the bed at 8am, as the mans flatmate had left the house by then and Im kinda intimidated by him (strange but true). The plan was simple- quick shower, quick bite to eat then off to work.

I stepped into the shower and began my normal cleansing routine.... now you may find this strange but I generally shower with my glasses on. Its a security thing, and that way I can see the soap. You see I am really bloody blind! I only take them off when I wash my face....

So I took them off to wash my face and placed them on the soap dish. I washed, I rinsed. I washed again. (Wakeup wash). Finding my face suitably clean I reached for my glasses, went to place them upon my nose and---

POP. The lense fell out, as the dodgy loose screw in the sides went flying into the atmosphere. The lense landed in the drain.

This was a matter of urgency. I shut the water off, grabbed the lense and went searching for the screw, crawling the bottom of the shower in desperate hope. I must have been a sight - naked and wet as the day I was born, crawling around in broken glasses squinting with one eye shut(thats what I have to do when the lense falls out). And after much searching and much frustration, I came to a distressing conclusion- the tiny screw that holds my fragile glasses together was lost forever, poured down a drain like so much wasted water and soap. I was heartbroken.

You gotta understand- when you are as blind as me, not having your glasses on pretty much disables you completely. You cant discern distance. When I havent got them on, I cant even see things that are on the floor in front of me. It is a total loss of control. I can't even leave the house- Id end up walking in the wrong direction and falling off the cliff. And I definately cant DRIVE, that would be a suicide mission.

So here I am, now running late for work, holding one lense in my hand and walking, sopping wet and in a skimpy towel through the apartment still squinting with one eye shut. I remember, in a flash of brilliance, that the sticky tape I bought to wrap pressies with last weekend is still on the table. So I grabbed it and did a little bit of a home optometry job on my poor broken glasses. Thankfully, it worked.

I had to use so much tape however, that my glasses appeared to have some form of unnattractive growth attached to the side. But given how late I was, and the fact that I was still butt naked, I figured that this would have to do.

Vanity asside, I made it to my new place of work and was greeted with 'wow hey did you break your glasses?'. NO YOU DOMKOPF, I thought they would look a hell of alot more interesting with a dirty great big piece of sticky tape wrapped around them. Kinda suits me, yeah? Its great when your already nervous, self-conscious and stressed, how people manage to make you feel a whole lot better.

When I went out to my first job, I went via the optometrist on the corner near the bread shop at engadine. Now I dont know if anyone actually uses him, but the man is a saint and I will love him to the ends of the earth. Not only did he FIX MY GLASSES, he REFUSED ANY PAYMENT, and asked me instead to make a donation to the cancer council thingy that he had a donations box for at the counter. I was so grateful and full of love that I folded up a tenner and put it in.

Well I figure its $10 well spent- I can now walk with my head held high and without my hair fixed over my hideous home optometry glasses job, the man was really nice and wished me a great day, and someone, somewhere is going to benefit from the research by the cancer council.

So there was my ridiculous start to the day- I think maybe I should change the name of this to "Rissa- a girl and her catastrophes"......

ACTION!!!!

I have decided, after last nyts little episode, that I will take action and do something to stop the discrimination against small cars.....

www.PetitionOnline.com/bighorns/petition.html

Yes I know i have too much time on my hands it is a real life petition. But you try having 5 days off in a row and PMS simultaneously and you see what you come up with!!!

So, to all my millions of readers...... (heerrrrrmmmmmm, or the 3 of you anyway!) SIGN MY PETITION, and remember - small cars have feelings too!!!

I must be going mad.

Small Cars Have Rights Too!!!!

Well, dear readers, tonyt I must rant and rave about an issue that is very close to my heart. An issue that is so important, so pivitol to the continuation of the human race that I think that I should campaign until it is taken to the united nations and passed as an international bill. I am speaking, dear readers, about the plight of the small cars.

I am a small car driver, as I am sure that many of my thousands of readers out there also are. And because of this, I am often pushed around, tail gated, swerved into (MOSMAN MUMS!!! GRRRRR), and cut off at round abouts. I get dirty looks when I dare to enter overtaking lanes. People in landrovers shake their heads as they pass me when I am struggling up Mt Ousley.

It is a disgrace. An outrage. It is discrimination against us, the small car minority and it is NOT FAIR. But the final hair was pulled directly from the camels back tonyt. Dear readers, tonyts little 'incident' is the final straw.

I was driving along, innocently enough, home from the mans house. I was singing along to some inane little ditty on the radio. Deciding whether I was going to eat an apple or a large piece of cheesecake (cheesecake won that round). Generally contemplating the meaning of life.

I reached the large roundabout that is at the beginning of the main road of our suburb. I indicated the direction I wanted to go in. I paused to make sure I wasnt going to cut off any oncoming traffic. And then, as I have done on countless occasions before, I entered the roundabout at a safe and resposible speed.

Just as I began to curve around the roundabout, a HUGE TRUCK with 2 HUGE TRAILERS decided that, since my car is a 1.5L 2 door hatch, it MUST NOT EXIST, and drove directly onto the roundabout right in front of me. Im lucky my breaks are working, cos if they didnt I would have been the filling in a truck sandwich right now. I had to stop completely on the roundabout while this monsterous creature went around it. He did not look. Hell I doubt if he even knew I was there. Doubt he even cared really.

i was furious. So furious, in fact that I did something that I dont ordinarily do. I slammed my hand down on my horn, and hard as I could, to show this road hogging beer bellied speed freak truck driver that I was not just a small car driver, I WAS A PERSON AND I HAD FEELINGS TOO.

I was expecting, for some reason, that my horn would come out with a huge bellow, thus reflecting the frustration I felt at that time. What came out however, was an embarrasing "toot" noise that will haunt me forever. I was humiliated. It was almost as bad as farting in a crowded elevator.

So I have come to a decision. A decision for me and my fellow small car drivers. I feel that all small cars should be fitted with very large, very loud and VERY SCARY airhorns. You know, the ones that those evil trucks get. Imagine, driving along in yr small car, pissed off by the wrong road hog, tailgated, cut off and-

HHOONNNNNNNKKKKKK!!!!! Next thing you know that stupid road hog is being carted off to hospital with a cardiac arrest.

So I will campaign for my rights. Now is the time for a change dear readers, and that change is simple- SMALL CARS NEED REALLY BIG HORNS.

That is all.

Soccer

Its amazing how incredibly competitive we get about very small things. Like, for instance, indoor soccer.

I didnt play tonyt, my ankle is a colour somewhat reminiscent of a very ripe plum and about the size of a small grapefruit. But I went, as we all do, to offer support, be the cheer squad, and generally cause trouble for the other team.

We played "the greeks", the team that we anihilated in the grand final last season. At the end of the grand final they walked out and did not recieve their trophies- because they didnt want to come second to us. We hate them. They hate us.

So when we play, for some unknown reason, the game becomes more important than the fifa worls cup. We go out for blood. Our supporters riot. The sports club actually gets a couple of really big guys to come and stand with with us to discourage brawling on the sidelines.

So tonyt they won. You would have thought someone had just told them that they had one the bloody lottery- punching the air, dancing and hugging each other, screaming and i think i even saw tears. There was passion and joy and celebration and-

GUYS IT IS JUST A SOCCER GAME!!!! And really it wasnt even an important one! Now dont get me wrong, I like to play and I like to win- but keep it in perspective people.

We are all C-grade players - we not exactly contenders for the socceroos. And we dont get sponsorship deals, television interviews or endorsements and adoration if we win - the closest we come is getting to gloat at work the next day.

In fact the only thing soccer has given me in the last two days is a sprained ankle and sore thighs- not exactly something to be celebrating about.

To end the story, our little unimportant game ended up with the other team, after winning the game and gaining the victory they so desired, coming up and telling us all that "we know people and they are going to fuck you guys up. Just you wait." Charming.

We will have the last say however. They were threatening a team that consists of coppers and council rangers.... and I know that a certain team will be recieving littering fines in the mail.....

.....nothing to do with me of course, but eh, revenge is sweet!

Friendship

Friends come and go, new friendships get made and old ones fade away. We live in such a life of convenience that if a friend doesnt fit our needs, if they do not match our place in existence, we dispose of them and quickly discover more.

Some friendships last the distance, some friendships are so sacred and important that we are prepared to grasp onto them and keep them with us, no matter how much we change, how far we go or how different our circumstance.

I think I have lost a friend. One of the latter, one I have held onto and no matter how confident I am, no matter how happy I am, it really does hurt to let it go.

We became friends when we were almost 13, over soccer, pot, and the fact that we caught the same train home from school. At first we were casual aquaintances, but it slowly grew to be so strong that by the time I was 16 I didnt know who I was without her. We have always been different - her the pretty, confident athletic one, who always had a boyfriend and was the centre of attention, me the strange one, less attractive, less conventional. She listened to top 40 and loved the beach, I loved newtown and listened to JJJ.

Her family had let her down, and I mean really let her down, leaving her alone, and constantly disapointing her when she needed them. For her I was often her family, her saviour from them.

I was picked on and ridiculed, both by my school friends and by her friends outside of school. She was my constant defender, whos guard over me was ever strong and inpenetrable.

When she turned 18 her birthday was ignored by her family. I bought a cake, a slab of beer and we created our own party. I can honestly say that at that point we didnt need anyone else. We were happy with each other.

We fell out at my 18th, she didnt turn up cos she was on drugs and it broke my heart. Also our boyfriends were both wankers so we went our separate ways - her into drugs and clubs and me into abuse and control- we were neither winners and we were both miserable.

At 20 we became friends again, both freed from our evil boyfriends. We bonded again over soccer- and within months we were as close as we had ever been. I spoke at her 21st birthday party. She spoke at mine: she told me I was beautiful and wonderful and that she was the lucky one because she was friends with me. No one had ever told me that before.

At 22 we moved out together - and straight back into the drug scene that almost ruined our friendship the first time. It almost did again but we made it thru and we were still strong.

On her 23rd birthday her family disapointed her again- so i went and saved her like old times. We went and got drunk, and then i bought 2 tattoos, one for her and one for me. So she has freedom printed on her shoulder blade, and I have a butterfly design on my back, symbols of what we always wanted to be.

And now less than 12 months later we have drifted apart. She hardly spoke 2 words to me at soccer. I guess that there are reasons- For the only time in our friendship I am happy and secure, in a good relationship and I think maybe she has lost alot of her own control. I think she is angry about things she cant change and I think that its strange for her that I am not there following her around anymore.

I miss her tho - for the longest time she was the one who always told me I was good enough. She built me up and made me feel important - to her I was. I will always remember, one emotional drunk night, her crying and screaming and saying to me "Riss I wish you realised how amazing you are. I wish you understood that I want to be more like you."

Friends like that dont happen often.

42

Ok, down to business. Above is the answer to THE QUESTION. For those of you not of a nerd persuasion its from Hitch hikers Guide to the Galaxy. Gotta luv Marvin the Manic Depressive Robot....

Now for my gripe of today - why is it that women driving large 4WD with kids in the back think that they do not have to indicate on a roundabout? is there a stupid women in 4WDs exclusion to the Australian Road Rules? I think not. I mean really, when you have small children in the car, don't you think that you would be more cautious and therefore follow the road rules in a more diligent manner? Perhaps it is because these women in their petrol guzzling road hogging school zone hazardous death traps for kids vehicles that are predominately designed for OFF ROAD USE have a false sense of security and therefore invivibility while driving (or attempting todrive) these vehicles. GGGGRRRRR
If, by any chance you stumble on this blog and you ARE a 4WD driving female "mosman mum", please let me give you some advice:

* learn to park. Just because yr wheels are big enough that it is no trouble to go up a gutter accidently doesnt mean that it is ok. In fact it is an offence under the australian road rules.
*look when changing lanes. Bigger car equals bigger blindspots, which means you are more likely to miss those of us in smaller vehicles.
*look when reversing at shopping centres and driveways. Same reason as above.
* Your indicators ARE YOUR FRIENDS. I am less likely to almost plow into you if I am aware of where you are heading.
* BUY A NEW CAR. It is all a status thing for you people, so perhaps a nice merc? a beamer? They are not only expensive status symbols, they are also a safer and far more attractive alternative.

Ok I guess that is it from me I tend to go on a bit....

Self Improvement

Welcome to Rissi's Self Improvement Post.

The time has come for change. Big Change. There comes a time in the lives of all of us where we must grasp the challenge of self improvement with both hands and drink it into our very souls as it is the lifeblood of change...... OK MAYBE NOT. I may have taken it a wee bit far there.....

My desire for self improvement is driven by a combination of factors: I just started a new job, I joined a new gym, and its the start of a brand new month. Oh and i really like typing the words self improvement. Its kinda fun..... Oh and if anyone is out there feel free to comment....

1. Save $10 000 (rissi wants a house. and a camera. and a new car stereo)
2. Learn to whistle. Ive been told its simply a matter of practice.
3. Study book I borrowed off Joe on personalities
4. Go to gym at least 3 times a week for at least an hour each time.
5. Remember to turn up to soccer on Sundays
6. Improve flexibility for purpose of bedroom aerobics. (gotta love bedroom aerobics)
7. Become familiar with all Acts, Regulations and Laws regarding my new job (theres heaps)
8. Write life changing Aussie novel (after so many false starts)
9. Enrol to do B. Applied Social Science via correspondence (next semester?)
10. Read only intellectual and challenging books (goodbye easy read chick books)
11. Put ball in motion re Support network for shire females i keep talkin bout
12. Discover natural hair colour

Ok i guess thats about it.... Im sure there are many more and they are possibly more useful but eh. Ill update in a month. Im sure Ill be far more intellectually enlightened.....

After The Weekend

Ok ok ok. In hindsight I may not be the socially deprived individual that I previously claimed to be. Maybe I over react just a lil bit!
Said person of male persuasion came thru and we ended up goin out to dinner - it was really rather nice, at the sailing boat club an all.....
Other friends pulled thru also I guess maybe I should learn to give them all a little more time to think of me, after all I am pretty far down the phone list alphabetically!!!
So yes. I drank a little too much this past week however and am officially going to have a break from drinking. Oh, and from all this food that I been eating. So I think I am going to go into this next month as an old grandma, no alcohol and no food!!!
Sex tho. I think I will still have sex.... its good for you, right? All that cardio, not to mention the flexibility that it maintains.... So I can still have sex.
So I guess this is a new regime - less grog, less food more sex. Sounds good. This could lead to a book or something... Rissa's no food no grog more sex diet.... hermmmm

Well its a friday eve and i am just sittin. I have as of yet no plans and no-one has actually invited me anywhere. How tragic am I? I USED TO HAVE PLANS EVERY WEEKEND DAMMIT!!!! When did I become so socially rejected? When did I become the forgotten one who disapeared off the social scene? I guess its only 5:30pm and the night is still very young, but I still cant help but feel like a socially rejected old maid, sitting here waiting for an offer of kinship to be charitably donated to me.
Im sorry but I think I am just feelin a wee bit lost this evening. I have just left one job and am about to start a new one on Monday. So I am currently between vocational identities and I am not really sure where I am going. I just left a team of the most fantastic guys to move into a job that I really know absolutely nothing about. I cant even believe they hired me!!!! So im scared, i feel lost, AND I HAVE NOTHING TO DO ON A FRIDAY NITE!!!
I guess it would help of certain partners of the male persuasion would answer their girlfriends back in a timely manner. Cos if they dont wanna do anything with me well thats fine, but I would really like an answer so i dont end up making 2 lots of plans.
To make it worse not only do I not have any plans, I live with my parents (save me, please) which means this no plans dilemma could mean a night SITTING AT HOME with good ole mum and pop. But even they have plans - well, when I say plans I mean they are going to the supermarket to buy their groceries and then they are stopping in at Red Rooster and buying dinner- but at least they HAVE plans.
Ok, this is gettin way to depressing, so I am going to end it here and MAKE PLANS. Stuff the world I'll do it on my own.

First Try

ok this is my first go at this so im gunna give it a shot..... happy anzac day world! just got back home after bein out all weekend and my friend shezy is down from port..... so this is pretty much just a practice run before i go to bed!!!