Loyalty and Shame (PM - I mean the next day)

SHIT YOU GUYS! I totally didn't post yesterday. Let me say first that this will absolutely not happen again (if I can help it). Since going back to work, my Thursdays have become quite busy and what with this being the first week back to MSC since I've been at work and after hiatus it totally slipped my mind. Which I guess is fitting given the topic of yesterday and todays post. Because WHERE IS MY LOYALTY? (I know where my shame is, I'm drowning in it.)

Ok, so now let's get to the topic at hand. Firstly, let me say that I can just believe that Sally Pimp changed her name back to her maiden name, but I really cannot believe little Marmalade has taken that maiden name too! Sure, no one wants Pimp as their surname but Joe Pimp has lived with it all his life, I guess I kind of figured he was cool with it and just saw past the implications. And I guess I also thought of the Pimps as so conservative. But good on 'em, little Marmy will be the better for it.

But I guess we're not here to talk about the Pimps. Really we have to help K face her Demons.

As a kid I didn't much care for football. Dad watched it a bit and barracked for Collingwood so I guess I kind of did too but I didn't actually care about it. As a grown up though I started going out with LB. He barracks for the Cats but he was never that into footy either. After spending some time around the Geelong area, learning about Gary Ablett Jr and Jimmy Bartell and going to see the Cats play with K one day I decided I loved them and they've been my team ever since. It's been easy because they've also been a very successful team for most of the time I've been following them so I never faced what K had to when passing only team to my children but one thing I have learnt is that kids can only be guided, you can't make them do anything. Baby "goes for the Cats" but he also loves the Hawks, Demons and Bombers. Because they all have cool names. I feel confident that he'll eventually commit to the Cats, but if he doesn't that's ok.

K, you can only offer your baby guidance. You can guide him towards Melbourne or guide him away, but really I think you just have to share your love and pain for the Dees and let him make his own decision.

Loyalty and Shame (AM)

I have a friend who married a fellow with an unfortunate name. Let's call him Joe Pimp. She loves her husband very much, and has a bent towards the traditional, so she changed her name. She became, let's say, Sally Pimp. Sally had a great surname to begin with, and we all wondered whether she would change it. She said that she did in part out of loyalty to Joe. She loved him, Pimp and all. Time passed and the Pimps welcomed to bouncing baby girl. They gave her a somewhat unique first name, let's go with Marmalade. So that bouncing baby girl became Marmalade Pimp. Now you don't need to be a rocket scientist to know that that name is pretty wack, and soon,  the Pimps realised that too. They lived their baby girl and didn't want her to suffer unnecessarily. They figured the world was  tough enough without having to go through life being called Marmalade Pimp. So Sally and Marmalade changed their names back to Sally's original name. It was a tough decision but they did it to prevent suffering and they never looked back.

I'm telling you all of this because since the baby has come, Melbourne has lost some games of footy in a truly woeful fashion. I expect you're thinking what's new, right? I don't blame you. Maybe it's because I'm tired and emotional and have a new baby, but these losses have hit me hard. And got me thinking about what kind of life I want for my son. I always thought that I'd proudly pass on my club allegiance to my offspring, I never questioned it, it's what one does.
But now I'm not so sure I want this misery for him. I'm not even sure I want to for myself.
These thoughts are very troubling to me, and challenge everything I believed about myself in relation to loyalty and commitment. I'm ashamed of them but they are there. And like the folk on Embarrassing Bodies who can't bring themselves to tell a single GP about their weird genital condition but somehow feel ok about going on TV and telling millions, I'm telling all of you. I don't know where to go with these thoughts. I guess this is a cry for help.

Gifts from the Internet (AM)

I have to write a report for work this week. It's a slow and painful process and sometimes it makes me want to smack my head against the keyboard, sometimes cry, sometimes throw up. Mostly, it just makes me want to look at stuff on the internet, and then feel guilty for looking up stuff on the internet.
To make me feel less guilty for all the things I've been looking at on the internet, I am going to show you guys some of the things I have been looking at on the internet. Don't worry, this will only take a minute.

I like this thing.  I find the way the dog looks at the camera at 15 seconds extremely hilarious, and then the kiwi guy towards the end. But it's the suave canine that really speaks to me.

I also found this kind of interesting. Efficient. Takes the awkwardness out of it.

This I find hilarious because I spook easily and can totally relate, but also find people falling over extremely funny, even when they are not people but raccoons.

But this Tasmanian Devil is currently my favourite thing on the internet.

Honestly, have you ever seen anything so lovely? Certainly nothing that is both as whiskery and as lovely as this guy. I hope he doesn't get the facial tumours.
Anyway. that's all I'm doing today. Hope you guys have it better than me.

Beware the Ides of March(AM)

So as we all know, yesterday was the Ides of March which naturally got me thinking about The Gos. 

For the longest time, I have not understood why people love The Gos so damn much. It's a worldwide phenomenon that I can not comprehend.

I've tried to get on board. I've seen all his stupid films, but they did not help me understand the situation. I thought The Notebook sucked and I thought Blue Valentine blew.  

Crazy, Stupid, Love should have been called What, A, Piece, Of, Shit. 


I really don't get it.

Don't get me wrong. I get that he is pretty. I mean, Miss Soft Crab is not blind. Miss Soft Crab has eyes and can see that The Gos is pretty. Miss Soft Crab has uttered the odd phwoar! when watching a Gos film. But mainly, Miss Soft Crab is unmoved by The Gos and wonders why the heck everyone goes so apeshit for him. Why, readers, why?

Like I said, I was pondering this yesterday because it was the Ides of March. And also because I was home sick from work and watched Half Nelson on DVD. When it finished I thought to myself yep, I still don't get this whole Gos phenomenon. He's not for me. No sirree. He ain't no real hunk. He is just some pretty baby. That's all. The rest of the world can have The Gos. I'll take my hunks over The Gos any day. I bet that movie Drive isn't even that good.  Maybe I should go rent it and find out.

I don't know if it was the fever or what but by the time I roused myself from this internal monologue darkness had fallen and I realised I had been lying on the couch thinking about The Gos for a couple of hours.

What the eff is wrong with me, guys.  I think I love The effing Gos.

Things I am not proud of - the Facebook edition (AM)

Sometimes, I see that it is someone's birthday, but I don't write anything on their wall. It's not that I don't want them to have a happy birthday. I do. I just can't be bothered writing it.

Also, when people write a status update to announce that they are pregnant, I want to write one of the following things:
what a surprise!
*eye roll*
tell someone who gives a shit! 

The last one is only if I'm in a really bad mood.
I never actually write any of these things, I usually just hit 'like' and get back to work. But I have these urges, and I guess I feel the need to confess them. 

Goodbye snow, hello shame

Thanks for sharing your snow learnings, J.

It made me think about what the snow has taught me. I think the main thing I have learnt is that shimmying down the mountain for a few days is fantastic, but then it's really time to go home. I get sick of wearing so many layers, and the fact that all the indoor places smell a little bit like wet dog. So that's what I have learnt from snow.

But I've also learnt something else today.

This morning I accidentally clicked on a link that actually wasn't a link at all, but was a virus. My computer totally lost it. It went black and stopped doing all the things computers do. I called the IT guy and told him what had happened. He told me that black screen is very bad and he would have to rebuild my computer from scratch.

"Please try your hardest to keep everything from the desktop!" I pleaded.

"There is a lot of really important stuff on there that I really need!!".

I was referring to all of the work I had been doing for the last couple of weeks and had saved on the desktop because sometimes, I just don't feel like digging around the network for the right spot to save stuff. Losing all of that work would be terrible! IT guy needed to save it!

He assured me that he would definitely be able to save everything, so I trotted off feeling very relieved.

It was much later that I remembered my desktop also housed a folder containing all of the pictures of Ewan McGregor and Don Draper that I have ever posted on Miss Soft Crab. ALL OF THEM! That amounts to quite a lot of photos of hunks that I am keeping in a folder on my desktop.

Of course, the IT people couldn't retrieve the work I had done without also retrieving the folder with the pictures of the hunks. And by the time I realised, the damage would have been well and truly done. I'm pretty sure they thought it was the pictures of the hunks I was referring to when I said the stuff on my desktop was "really important stuff that I really need!" because there was a lot more smirking than usual when I went to retrieve the computer. Damn those nerds!

Anyway, I have learnt an important lesson about only posting pictures of hunks when I am posting from home. Which is why this post is so late.

Thanks for waiting.
Here is a picture of a new hunk, Michael Fassbender, for everyone to enjoy.
You're welcome!