Swings and roundabouts

I thought I was going to tell you today about all the near misses and dud aspects of my weekend which was a real roller coaster. I was going to tell you about all the disappointing meals I ate and the stories that I thought were going to turn out great but ended up shit (including, but not limited to said disappointing meals). But I'm a lover not a fighter and who needs to start the week off like that. And in fact mostly my weekend was really nice.

On Friday night we went to the pub for Minderbinder's birthday. And it was so nice to go to the pub and see people and eat a yummy burger (though not the disappointing "chips". Ugh. Regrets - I've got a few). And for a gal that doesn't get out much all I need is 2 hours, a few nice people and a beer to feel like I'm doing something. Doesn't hurt that I rounded the night out watching Graham Norton which at first seemed somewhat, though not entirely boring  (Kevin Bacon, Jessica Chastain and Dianne Keaton as guests) until Norton brought out a late comer, Michael Fassbender! Who was not only his regular handsome smiling and delightful self but added some break dancing to his visit. THIS was followed by the GORILLAZ and the show ended with DAMON on the couch. Now sure, I'm talking about Graham Norton's couch, not my couch, still, I think as far as TV viewing goes, I couldn't ask for much better. To round this all out Noel Gallagher performed with Gorillaz. On Saturday I excitedly tried to tell LB about Noel and Damon on stage together but he just looked as me as if the nineties had never happened and when I tried to explain the Blur vs. Oasis saga of the heady days of Brit Pop he told me, "Yeah, I know who Oasis is, 'What's the morning, morning glory' right?"

On Saturday I had a really nice day spending some with my children leaving them with my parents and walking the streets of Armadale and Prahran and despite ending up busting and then having to use the worst toilet in Prahran

and another disappointing eating experience all the walking and sunshine and lack of external demands was really invigorating.

Yesterday I took Newbie out for breakfast. Even though I spend bulk time with him, Little Bean is always with us and our schedule revolves around Baby, even in his absence, so it was pretty sweet just to go out together, have a 'cino, read some books, eat an entirely, almost overwhelmingly, satisfying meal (mouth watering thinking about it now - it was the smoked creamed corn at Mixed Business if you're in the market for a great breaky). And after that great meal it almost doesn't matter that I spent most of the day prepping a dinner I expected to be fantastic but was a complete fucking failure (potatoes aside - which barely counts because they are almost unruinable). From mains to dessert it was all a disaster and a pretty disappointing way to end the weekend I guess. But that's life, right? You win some you lose some and I think that the past weekend was basically a metaphor for life.

I need to wee (PM)

Oh man. This is just another of the ways that I admire you Matey. You are patient and capable and have a steel clad pelvic floor. I do not have a pelvic floor made of steel. I have a pelvic floor made of something like jersey. All it takes for me to urgently need to go to the toilet is for me to hear someone mention needing to go to the toilet, walk past a fire hydrant that's a bit leaky or get to my front door. Within seconds of any of these things, I'm busting and there is no way  the demands of daily life could stop that urge.

I actually have this really strong memory from when I was little that relates to the toilet and the demands of being a mother. I remember being about 5 or 6 or something and having a conversation with my Mum. I don't remember the details of the conversation but I suspect it was something to do with my Care Bear. So it was pretty interesting. Anyway, I was following Mum around the house as she was doing this and that, talking about my business. All of sudden I found myself standing outside a closed bathroom door, with Mum on the other side. I obviously felt that I still had some points to make so I just opened the door and walked in on Mum on the toilet. No doubt this had happened millions of times before, but this time, for the first time, Mum plead with me to leave her alone and wait until she was finished on the toilet. Frankly, I was shocked. I thought I was pretty much her favourite person and whatever I had to say, she wanted to hear it, no matter what else she was doing. Turns out most of that time she was probably just desperate for privacy and really needed to wee.
And given that I am the youngest of her children, this situation probably persisted for about a decade.

I'm so sorry, Mum

The confession (AM)

"Billy, this is your homework."

I have to tell you something. I love Miss Soft Crab, I love reading it, I love writing it, but sometimes I'm distracted or uninspired and it's hard, you know? I have some half formed ideas that may or may not work as a whole post. Sometimes I got nothing. That's just the bad weeks or the busy ones. This week I had so many half formed ideas and so much distracting me from them I forgot them all. 

Last night I was watching perhaps the most boring tv show in history. It's just this guy walking around parts of the English coast learning about the events of WWII in those parts. There were some interesting bits, of course, but really it's just a guy going for a walk. Anyways, there I was watching a boring show and thinking about how I really needed to go to the toilet and how boring that was. I guess I was feeling tired and our bathroom is cold and I just felt annoyed that one has to regularly perform this bodily function that requires one to get off the couch and go to such a cold room. May I also add that I don't sit on the couch all day. Mostly I'm up doing stuff and yet I never get around to weeing when I'm up either. All those distractions.  So there I was thinking about things I had to do that I didn't want to do: go to the toilet; clean my bedroom; and then, that's when I remembered I had to write a blog post, a wee reminded me. 

And then do you know what happened next? The movie Toy Soldiers came on TV. Now this is a movie that K and I used to watch all the time. Turns out I can still pretty much quote it all, presumably in its entirety, I didn't watch it all so I can't confirm that. Point is you thought it was hard for me to go to the toilet and write a blog post when I was watching an Englishman go for a walk, what hope was there once a teenage Wil Wheaton hit the screen!? So here we all are, me feeling bad I was distracted by a movie from writing a decent post and you wishing you watched Toy Soldiers last night. 

Hello Bobby Dobby (AM)

Two months ago on the outskirts of Melbourne a litter of Irish Setter puppies was born, and all the way up in Far North Queensland LB's mother heard them calling to her. So, of course, she arranged to buy one. I am not going to complain about it because for the last 3 days this adorable puppy has been staying with us.

I'm not going to complain about the shit and piss he keeps doing in the house either, or the crying he does in the middle of the night, because he is really cute. And he is leaving in 36 hours, at which time the shit and piss levels in the house should return to normal. And did I mention he is really cute? Because, he really is.

Although his name will change, we call him Bobby Dobby. Baby named him that after he went to one music class where there was a toy monkey named Bobby Dobby. It surprised me that Bobby Dobby made much of an impression on him, but perhaps he responded for the same reason I did, because the teacher is Russian. Now imagine a Russian woman saying "Hello, Bobby Dobby." Now do it again with a better Russian accent. Great isn't it?

Yeah, you bet I am loving looking after a dog that is this cute:

And that gives me an excuse to talk in a Russian accent all the time. As if I needed one.

Haiku Thursday (AM)

shu uemura
shu uemura, please,
so pretty, green, and clear,
make me pretty too


Wax

Body hair grooming,

Of bodily maintenance,

Is the boringest

Why?

Always some damn thing

Getting in way the of just

Taking it easy

Memories

I

 like the corners of

my mind all alone in the

moonlight they get lost

II

Constructed not penned 

Haiku get flushed from my brain

As from a toilet