Photo Friday

She's gonna kill me for posting this, but I'd like to remind her that despite the fact I'm kicking her butt - AGAIN - in the tips this year she's still one of my besties:

Me and Miss WTF.

Miss Thing Update

As promised, here are some updates on my offspring. I thought I'd start with the most challenging first.

You may recall that earlier in the year she announced her intentions to move out, and despite our protests and HUGE misgivings she did so in March. That night she sent me a text message about how wonderful I was and how she was not going to regret it and it was all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns.

That lasted about 2 weeks, and for the last 5 months I've heard nothing but grief and complaints and put up with just as much drama as when she was here. She has known the girl she moved in with since they were both in Year 8, and have a long and painful history together. It was the fact that Miss Thing was moving in with her that was the cause of one of my concerns - they simply couldn't go for more than a few days without a disagreement of some sort. They could not agree on a third flatmate. There were fights with the girls' boyfriend. It. Never. Stopped.

When Miss Thing stayed here in April when we went to Bargara Beach I got calls every night with some drama or another. When we came home there was so much that wasn't done that I had asked her to do I had steam coming out of my ears and I vowed never again. I would pay someone to take care of things instead.

We had drama with work. We had drama with her father, The Bastard, when she would call him and then get upset with his behaviour. I got complaints that I never spent any time with her. She had a huge dummy-spit when we couldn't take her out for a family birthday dinner right on her birthday weekend owing to other commitments and me being in my last prac at university and then when we did - with me taking a night off work to do it - she blew us off to get a tattoo.

Honestly, it was like she never left. But left she did. The Hermit sat her down just before she moved out and explained to her that while there would always be a place for her at the table, life here at Chez Mooselet would go on. I don't think she absorbed that message very well, do you? She got cranky when we finally started to refit her old bedroom for Sparky (we did give it a few months) so we could give Her Majesty and Clive their own bedrooms, and we only have the carpet to be installed next week before we move Sparky in.

And guess what? She needs to move back home. It began last week with the news that the friend, in whose name the lease was, didn't think she wanted to renew said lease. I asked how much time they had left on it and she told me a couple of months. We suggested they discuss it. By Sunday the time frame was 3 weeks and the lease was definitely not going to be renewed. Miss Thing could not find 2 new flatmates in such a short space of time and didn't know anyone who was looking for a roomie. Or simply wasn't interested. By yesterday the time frame was a week and a half.

Rereading this I can see why I haven't blogged about Miss Thing since she moved out. It makes my head hurt.

Now the only question is where we put her. It looks as if she will go into Sparky's old room; I won't deny Sparky the chance to go into the room that's been done up for him because Miss Thing still hasn't figured out she's not the centre of the universe. But it does mean the continued refit will go on hold and Her Majesty and Clive will be together a bit longer.

Miss Thing goes back to the US in October for another month-long visit (funded by her tax refund), and she tells me coming back is "only temporary". It makes me feel pretty terrible to think of how much stress this is going to cause. She's my daughter and I love her, but for the love of the Flying Spaghetti Monster I can no longer deal with the drama that she invites into her life. She is going to have to fit herself around our schedule and while she says she understands that, I foresee that attitude lasting a week before she's shouting she has to be somewhere at a certain time and needs to leave earlier/later than usual.

Isn't it nice to know the more things change, the more they stay the same? Now if you will excuse me, I need to beat my head against something hard and unyielding. It will be less painful.

So NOT My Friend

For those who aren't aware of how Facebook works - you get a notice that someone wants to add you as a "friend" and then you get to decide whether or not to accept that person's request. FB does not notify you if your request has been denied, but I think people figure it out pretty quickly. I've only ever rejected a handful. Some are people whom I simply don't know (they thought I was someone else, for example), a few were high school classmates whom I really didn't get along with then and so I'm not going to just be an addition to their friend count now, and one was a girl whom I was friends with in high school but she really screwed over an even better friend and so I hit the 'ignore' button.

And then there was the request I got nearly 2 months ago. The one that, when I saw it sitting in my email box after I got home from work at 2:00 am made me both queasy and angry. The one from my abusive ex-husband, aka The Bastard.

I immediately hit the 'ignore' button and posted this remark to Facebook: "My ex just asked to be my FB friend. Why can't "Oh HELL NO" be a choice for a button?" I got some great responses, my favourite from an old classmate who said "Not if you were the only other person on FB... ". I'm not sure what made him seek me out on FB - maybe it was a comment a left on a mutual friend's comment, maybe he went looking for me. Mind you he didn't bother to send a request to Miss Thing, his DAUGHTER! (She later sent one to him that he accepted. Gee, ain't he a great father sperm donor?) Whatever it was he sent it and I ignored it and thought that was that.

Silly me.

Two weeks later I received another request from him, along with a message with the subject "friend" and the body said nothing other than "hi". This time I was annoyed rather than squicked out. I said 'no' two weeks ago - did you think I didn't mean it? Did you think I didn't know who you were? Did you think I would feel sorry for you, or want to know about your life now? I did mean it, I knew, I don't and I don't. I deleted the message and hit the ignore button. Again.

You see where I'm going with this. Another couple of weeks, another request with another email, this one entitled "bad hair day" with nothing in the body. What the hell is that about??? I again deleted the email, but left the request sitting in my notifications box on FB. If I don't delete it he can't ask me again.

Why he thinks I would want anything to do with him is beyond me. Honestly. Don't give me the "father of your kids" line - he has almost nothing to do with Sparky and any contact he has with Miss Thing is nearly entirely her doing. Sometime last year during one of his rare phone calls he asked me if I ever "thought of him", with his tone clearly indicating what he meant was if I ever recalled our relationship fondly. I was so caught off guard by the question the horrified and emphatic "NO" left my mouth before I could even think about being tactful. I would have thought that answered any lingering questions he might have - I guess not.

I've been tempted a few times to hit the 'ignore' button again just so I don't have to see the '1 friend request' every time I log into FB. But that would allow him to ask me again. I also know I can block him so he can't see me, anything I post or send me another friend request. But somehow that feels like admitting I need to run and hide from him instead of saying "fuck off". I could send him a message, telling him I'm not interested in friending him but that irks me as well. Why do I have to do the work - again? So it lingers in the status quo, which really isn't a very satisfactory solution either.

So what do you guys think? Which road should I travel? Or should I get my uncle to call in some favours with the Boston Irish Mafia and end the situation more, er, permanently? Hey, FBI I'm just kidding with that last one!

Unemployed

Well, at least for this week.

After many arguments calm and rational discussions with The Hermit, it was agreed that I would no longer continue to work for The Large Grocery Store That Employs Me once I started my new job at The Large Public Hospital That Will Soon Employ Me. Several weeks ago I gave notice that my last night would be the 22nd, which was Saturday.

I admit I was reluctant to give up the job. Not because it was a great one or I had a great love of it, and not even because I worked with some fantastic people whom I'll miss seeing every week. I was reluctant because I wanted to help to continue to get ahead of our bills, and part of me still thinks I'm Superwoman and can do it ALL!

I never said that part of me was very bright. Or rational.

But The Hermit was right - a fact I did admit to him about a month ago, and a fact I told him to make a note of because I was unlikely to admit I was wrong about something in the immediate future. I did feel a sense of relief in knowing I won't have to go to work until midnight a couple of nights a week on top of working at the hospital and taking care of kids.

I had enough holiday time stored up to be able to have this week off and not lose any pay, so here I am. I really am hoping to give you an update on my spawn children this week.

But I won't bag The Large Grocery Store That No Longer Employs Me too much. They were very good in accommodating me when I needed time off, and coming from the Land of Minimum Wage as I do being paid a living wage to stick pasta on a shelf leaves me little to complain about. I even learned some life lessons - such as incompetent and lazy people are a worldwide phenomenon, and some people will steal anything. It was not a bad way to spend almost 2 years.

Now on to the next adventure!

Saturday Skinfest

Way late... what else is new? I'll get right to it:

Craig Wing and Anthony Minichiello. Does Minichiello still play? I must admit I like him better with the chest hair.

The overly tattooed Mat Rodgers and his golf-inspired board shorts. Still has awesome abs, however. Don't know who the guy to his left is - anyone?

Former Bronco now NZ Warrior Joel Moon tries to avoid being eaten by the floating globes whilst looking studly. Although his knee is very odd looking... I just won't look at that as it nearly ruins it for me.

The Brisbane Broncos cheergirls... cos nothin' says OTT like hot pink boots.

At some point my life will settle down and I'll have the Skinfest on time - maybe next week?

Photo Friday

I'll spend some time this morning getting caught up after another busy weekend. :::sigh:::

Clive, in a self-portrait.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

One more quickie... I know my template is kinda stuffed. My leaping woman-moose has gone missing. I don't know if this is because I changed to my own domain (didn'cha notice up the top it's just mooselet.com now? No? Well now you do!) or something else is wrong.

I've been wanting to change the format again if I can find the time - which I kinda have to do soon since I'm starting at the Large Public Hospital That (Will Soon) Employ(s) Me in a week and a half and still haven't come up with a way to function without sleep. I've been checking out some free templates and messing with Blogger ones (as I'm still not comfortable with moving onto a self-hosted site like WordPress, nor do I really have the time to deal with the problems that would arise) in an attempt to come up with something I like. Picky, picky...

So if things change a wee bit, don't be alarmed. I'm on the case... sorta.

Positivity

Why yes, my geek crush on Adam Savage is still going strong:



Is that wrong?

A Time to Draw

I was going to do up a post updating everyone on how the kids are doing, but then I saw this and decided to go with it.

I meet Kristin in the 6th grade, when we started Middle School. Aside from being one of my oldest friends she is an incredible artist - a talent I have always envied given that I have problems drawing a straight line with a ruler. Her work is featured on the website Urban City Architecture on the post A Time to Draw. If you have a moment, go check it out.

And no, she didn't ask me to do this. I am just so impressed with her talent I want to share it.

"Balance" Is Bullshit

Someday, journalists will figure out that not every story needs "balance". That 2+2=4 does not need to be "balanced" by someone who thinks 2+2=5. Because that person is, clearly, stupid.

My favourite line: "Science knows it doesn't know everything, otherwise it would stop."

Her Majesty's Weekend

This weekend was all about Her Majesty. Not only did we have the usual swimming lesson on Saturday morning, but that afternoon was her football Presentation Day. This is the time the kids - the Under 7s to the Under 10s at least - get the all-important trophy. Never fear, Sparky gets this as well, just in a few weeks time. But this post isn't about Sparky, it's about Her Majesty.

The club got a couple of the younger Broncos players, Josh McGuire and Andrew McCullough, to come down and present the kids with their trophy. As an aside can I say how great it is that the players do this? It was so cool for Her Majesty to watch the Broncos game this afternoon and see the two blokes who handed her a trophy playing on television - especially when one of them (Josh McGuire) scored a try. "I know him!" she cried. So cool:

click to embiggen*
That's Josh McGuire handing Her Majesty her trophy.

Her Majesty's team was also selected as the best modified team at Wests. All kids from U7s-U10s play some sort of modified game, so to be chosen as the best out of 7 teams was quite a thrill for them. Especially as that meant she brought home 2 trophies!

Too freakin' cute, aren't they? Even if coaching them must be like herding cats...

But her weekend wasn't done! Today we finally had her birthday party. Yes, her birthday was last month - shut up. At least we managed to have it this year. She spent a few hours with 9 of her closest friends tearing around a local activity centre and generally wearing themselves out. It was fantastic.

That's Her Majesty in the purple with the big ole grin.

And the smiles just didn't stop. Her Majesty occupies her birthday throne in the Castle room. No, I'm not making that up...

She got loads of crafts gifts, which she loves. Now we just have to find the time to create them. Hey, did you hear that sound? I think I just broke some law of relativity in trying to eke out more time from our schedule. My apologies, Mr. Einstein.

* My apologies for not cropping this picture - I'm on my netbook and don't have a photo editor on here. 10 lashes with a wet noodle for me...

Saturday Skinfest

I told you I was trying to get back on track. The Skinfest is back!!! Strike up the band.

One of my favourite players, Nathan Hindmarsh, looking all muscle-y with an idiot tan.

David Williams before his beard got all out of control. Yowza!

Who wants to be that icebag down Cooper Cronk's shorts?

I think this pic of Marissa Miller may be a repeat - my files are kind of a mess. Somehow I think you fellas don't mind.

Let's see if I can keep up the trend of more skin on time (more or less) next week!

Photo Friday

I'm feeling much better after throwing myself that little pity party Wednesday. Thanks for coming. I don't like being such an Eeyore but I guess I just needed to get it off my chest. Then again, Eeyore isn't so bad. Sure he's gloomy and all, but he somehow manages to keep going every day. There's something to be said for tht.

Anyway, I finally got around to shutting down my original website that I created when we first moved here. I saved a bunch of photos before I hit the 'delete' button - pictures like this one:


This comfy fellow resides at the Alma Park Zoo, or at least he did back in 2002 when this was taken.

Neglected

I'm very sorry I've been neglecting you, dear Blog and my readers. Sheldon, my muse, is now refusing to speak to me. We had a spat the other day and I meant to blog about it... but time, as is its habit lately, got away from me.

That's how it's been with just about everything lately. I want to do about 20 things, have time for half of them at that moment and when the time comes to do the other 10 it's so late and I'm so freakin' tired I just push it all off to the next day... and the day after that... and the day after that...

I've also been very emotionally drained these past few weeks. I won't go so far as to say Winston, my black dog, is back - this is not self-delusion, but a conclusion I reached after a lot of introspection - but I'm feeling a little low in the tank. I am missing my family back in the States very much without missing the actual place. I haven't seen my mother for nearly 3 years, my in-laws for longer than that and my brother for just over 2 years, and lately that's been very hard to take. Especially when I know we won't be getting back until at least next year. That has caused me to reflect upon the upcoming anniversary of my father's death and have not been coping as well as you'd think given it's been 14 years. Add to that the normal stresses of everyday life with a busy family with an especially demanding 2 year old and it's not surprising that I have very little time for other things, or the emotional energy to do so even when I have the time.

And it's making me insane, because I love my blog. I think about it all the time, about how I want to have 30 minutes to do a post, a few hours to redo my template, to find that picture I remembered I had that would make a great header... My blog gives me an outlet that I know I would have a hard time finding anywhere else. Don't get me wrong - my friends both here and online (and yes, I call you my friends even though we may never have met because that's how you feel to me) are fantastic. I just find it easier sometimes to write how I feel rather than say it aloud.

Damn, you'd think I was falling to pieces after reading all that. I'm not, I just feel like it now and again. I'm still thrilled about starting my new job in less than 2 weeks, and I find things to laugh at. Like this:

You may not "get" Mystery Science Theater, but just the whole 1950s Happy Days-esque clip of how a family should be - when really it never was - is enough to make me giggle. "Pleasant and unemotional conversation makes for better digestion." What the fuck???

So indulge me a little more as I try to find my emotional equilibrium again. I'm pretty sure I left it around here somewhere... maybe under the cushions.