The Toddler and the Sea

Mum told me a story over the weekend which I had never heard before, which I think succinctly summarises what sort of child I was, and what sort of an adult I have become.

When I was 4 years old, I accompanied my Mum, her friend and my brother (13 at the time) on a cruise over Christmas.

I have a few vague memories of this time, and a few more vivid home videos.

Memories include: using a Minnie Mouse lip gloss I was given for Christmas as perfume (I smeared it all over my ears and wrists) and being unable to properly align the cotton balls I was gluing onto a paper Santa Clause face in day care, and still thinking the finished product was the absolute tits.

Home movie evidence shows: requesting my stuffed Jemima Puddle Duck toy sing and dance for the camera, and becoming incensed when she did not. Taking over when Jemima would not co-operate and singing Christmas Carols myself in the hallways of the ship cabins, only to fall silent whenever somebody stopped to listen; and wearing a homemade ‘flower’ costume for a children’s dress-up parade, which I lost (because I looked more like a psychedelic lion than a flower).

This incident, thankfully, was not captured on film. It was recalled with near perfect clarity by my mother. 

My mum’s friend was a children’s clothing designer. She had constructed the psychedelic lion flower costume I mentioned earlier, and she had made me several dresses and bits and pieces which I was not always a fan of as a child. My personal 4 year old style had more a fluoro-pink-taffeta-shorts-or-nothing kind of attitude to it.  

Specifically for this cruise, in addition to a few other pieces, she had made me a bikini. After a day of swimming in the deck pool, being partially drowned by my brother and just generally disturbing the peace, mum decided we should head back to the cabin to shower and change. Mum, her friend and my brother headed off with me in tow.

At some point, mum turned around to check that I was still following her like a good little duckling, and I was, just waddling along behind the rest of the group ........only suddenly I was stark naked.

“Where’s your bikini!?” Mum cried

“I threw it over the edge mum.” I replied matter-of-factly. 

“Why did you do that?!”

“I felt like it.” No hint of remorse. 

And I continued to pad along the deck, nude, having gifted my handmade-with-love bikini to the sea, and evidently quite happy with my decision. I wasn't trying to be rude, or ungrateful or bratty. I just wanted to see what it would be like if I took off my bikini and hurled it into the ocean from a moving luxury liner.

I wish I remembered the feeling, because I think it would be much less acceptable behaviour for an adult.

My main question is, why did no other passenger stop me? Surely someone would have noticed a 4 year old disrobing in the middle of the pool deck, running up to the side of the ship and setting their swimwear free over the edge?

I can only imagine it was the look of fierce determination on my little toddler face which dissuaded them from trying to keep me from my life’s mission.

But as I said, I think this story pretty well sums me up as a person on the whole. When I do stupid things I’m not trying to be bratty or rude or ungrateful…I just want to see what would happen if…

Plus I don't like wearing pants.

I’m out there every day asking the big important questions. Scientific mind. 

Let’s call it that. 

The Gadget Murderer

I love technology. My eyes light up watching the latest gadget I've procured illuminate with pretty moving colours and soothing space aged start-up music.

But I don’t look after my technological gadgets, and because of this, I feel the machines have finally started to make their move against me. The end is near.

I have been blacklisted by my entertainment systems, communication devices and portable work consoles for being careless in my efforts to maintain their well-being.

I am careless with my belongings.

I break things.

Hulk smash.

Maybe it’s because the first mobile phone I ever owned could survive a teenage girl throwing it directly at the tiled kitchen floors in a fit of rage over a text message. How silly is that? I can’t even remember what it said. (I remember exactly what it said. Fuck you Karen, you bitch.)

Or maybe it’s because I've never owned anything of significant value that I haven’t bought and paid for myself, and I therefore feel some kind of entitlement to destroy it, along with the money I spent, as I see fit. Now watch me flush this Tamagotchi down the toilet (true story).

Or maybe I have spoiled myself with my technological gadgetry and now subconsciously seek to arrange the demise of my computerised minions earlier than their intended expiration date as some kind of justification to purchase the NEW version of the gadget without feeling guilty. “I NEED a new one…my old one just fell to pieces…after being subjected to multiple beatings in the bottom of my gym bag under some weights I just happen to carry around”

I like to think it is not the latter, both to reassure myself that I am not a psychopath and serial purposeful gadget murderer, and because the last gadget I broke was the latest up-to-date model of a phone of which there were no viable upgrades on the horizon.

Right now I am writing this on a tablet on a train. Not because inspiration to write struck me or I felt the need to warn the world of my murderous tendencies towards anything more technical than a calculator (who am I kidding, I have broken several calculators), but because it appears the headphone jack on the tablet is broken, and I can’t watch my stories.

I’m only at this point now because I have finished the book I loaded onto my E-Reader before leaving home and am too fussy to pick another one without first reading several reviews on its literary quality from internet people I don’t know.

I can’t read any reviews on these books from these people who live in the internet because my phone is broken and I don’t have access. 

I DON’T HAVE INTERNET ACCESS. Trying not to panic.

I may have panicked a little.

The E-Reader itself is a recent upgrade and/or replacement of the older model which I managed to break by carrying around in my bag with no case. Bottle of wine vs. unprotected e-reader…..you already know who won.

It wasn't even good wine. $10 Moscato vs $120 gadget.

Ha, nah you’re right, it was still good wine.

Can they just start building these things with covers? That would really help me out a lot.

The gadgets, not the wine. I imagine if the made wine bottles indestructible bad things would happen. I’m not sure what bad things exactly, but I imagine it would have something to do with turtles.

And I know I know, the evil techno giants (incidentally my future DJ name) want my money so they make things smash-able and shatter-able and with a shelf life shorter than spring onions (quite literally, I had spring onions in my fridge for longer than I had this new phone.) so they’re not going to make a tougher version of my fancy pants phone which has a screen too big to fit in to any type of fancy pants pocket.

But a girl can dream.

I don’t dream much.

The last one I had had something to do with a me triumphing gloriously over someone I was upset with and I woke  up sad to realise that was not the case in reality. In reality, I was sitting in bed with a laptop that must be plugged in at all times because the battery is dead, a tablet with a broken headphone jack, a phone which doesn't work – at all, and an e-reader with no books on it.

My iPod shuffle is still in remarkably good condition. This is likely because it is the only item I have mentioned which was purchased for me as a birthday gift from my best friend about 8 years ago. I tend to take care of the shit other people give me.

It’s also small enough that me dropping it or throwing it in the bottom of a sweaty and weight filled gym bag has no effect.

What I’m getting at here is, please will someone buy me some new technology. I have exhausted my gadget budget and have already managed to break all the things I spent it on.

The great migration

So I've started this new blog.

I hope to update regularly.

I probably will not.


I've moved across all my old blog posts from the Ramblex, since I know how popular they were ...*cough*...where did that tumble weed come from? I live in the inner suburbs.

Just FYI, they have not been spell or grammar checked.

Anything below this post was written circa 2012-2013. Anything above this post was probably written in an alcohol fueled rage.

Just kidding. I don't need any kind of substance to fuel my rage.

Louie - Water Cat

My cat has a weird obsession with water. I'm torn between thinking he is some kind of genius aqua cat philosopher, constantly pondering the fickle nature of our greatest and most life giving-est resource.... or slightly retarded.

On a daily basis he repeats the same water related activities for changing periods of time and intensity.

The most damaging behaviour is when he scoops water out of his bowl with his paws and just tips it on the floor. For no reason. No reason at all! Then he just walks away, his floor destroying, flood damage inducing mission complete.
The most concerning habit is watching wet face washers dry. He will sit there for....I don't even know how long actually, because I get bored of watching him before he gets bored of watching the washers....just staring at the washer I have just used to scrub my face hanging on the towel rail, occasionally dripping little aquatic droplets of his obsession onto the floor. He won't chase the droplets though, he will just watch.

He saves the chasing of water droplets for when I am taking a shower, and with no concern for modesty will plaster himself to the outside of the glass door, diving to the floor when he spies a particularly enticing raindrop leave his field of vision.

He has also picked up the annoying habit of meowing bloody murder if I don't open the door for him to go in and investigate the remaining shower floor and wall water after I finish showering.

Louie's increasing level of comfort around me has meant more and more of his quirks have come to light. And let me tell you, he is weird. Aside from his strange fascination with water, he steals my socks - picks them up off the floor and hides them under the couch, he lies over the back and arm rests of chairs and couches - as in with his head on one side and his ass on the other, and will stay that way for hours, he tries to eat both my pant legs and my hair, and he eats his food with his 'hands' - by this I mean he has never just eaten out of his bowl, he will pick up individual pieces of dry food, or chunks of wet food with his paw and then eat it out of his hand. He is the weirdest cat I have ever owned, and I seem to attract weird cats as a rule. (Including Mistchet, who allowed me to dress her up in dolls clothes, push her in a pram and feed her from a bottle with no complaint [I was 7 at the time]; Duckie, who will become completely disabled if you lay her on her back, and has a habit of collapsing on the floor in front of your feet to get your attention, and Spooky, who managed to remove every single collar ever put on her, and proceed to capture possums and set them free in the house.)

I have illustrated some of Louie's aforementioned daily water rituals below (extremely poorly), and included some actual photos of his shower exploration. Enjoy.

Updated to include this picture I just snapped of Louie doing the face washer watching thing:

Egg Chair

Auto correct and a drunk me don't mix. Apparently my phone also has the ability to produce drawings in text messages that drunk me obviously stumbled across and then couldn't get rid of. Unless that's meant to be an extremely detailed floor plan of the night club indicating my location relative to Jodie's.

On Hold with Optus

Was just cleaning up the icons on my laptops desktop, and came across a notepad document which I had completely forgotten about. Opened it up and found an epic rant I barely remember writing about 4 months ago. I think it's pretty self explanatory. If you can make it through reading it....it be LONNNNGGGG!
That should give you a pretty good scope of the amount of time I was on hold for actually. 



So I've already been on hold to Optus for about 15 mins. In that time I've played 3 games of spider solitaire on my computer and now my eyes are starting to go cross eyed so I figured I'd move on to something else.
I'm on hold because I called to get them to set up my new internet connection, which I was assured was a simple self installation job. After attempting the set up multiple times I gave up and Googled the help number on my phone, which promptly died, so had to wait for it to charge to call them.

Although I did find it interesting, in an "you are all idiots" kind of way, that the letter I got with my new modem/router said for troubleshooting advice go to the website.

Number 1) I need troubleshooting advice for the fact that I cannot connect to the internet, you jackasses. So just to add insult to injury you put the help tips on the internet where I cannot access them. Putting aside phone internet, what if I had no phone signal? What if I was over my download limit on my phone?

I had to Google the number for the phone help line! Do they not see the issue with this? No Internet = No Help but No Help = No Internet.

Number 2) The "Help" on the website was literally the same booklet they had included with the router, only in adobe document format. Again, you jackasses. Why would I want the identical information I already have, only at the cost of wasting my mobile data to download it?

Now at this point, I have been on hold for another 8 minutes since I started typing. And I need to poop.
I think I'm going to poop. Maybe the awkwardness of the situation will make them more likely to answer the damn phone. Things usually work out that way for me.

...........................................................


Have pooped and returned. Still no word from t................


WHAT THE FUCK!

On hold for a total of 30 minutes with no word, and then an electronic voice comes over the phone and says "The Optus service center you have called is currently closed. Please call back tomorrow"

............

I CALLED A 24 HOUR LINE YOU FUCKERS!

And what did the people do, palm me off to another office who then put me on hold til they closed so they didn't have to take my call?

FUCK YOU OPTUS!
EPIC RAGE!

Now have had to call them AGAIN! And have to be put through the punishment of listening to their hold music, which I'm fairly certain was developed initially as some form of psychological warfare weapon system.
There's one tune that sounds like something from James Bond, only much much creepier. Like if James bond was a secret agent ghost or something.
And then the one that comes after that is like some overly happy 80's shit with an electronic organ playing beneath what can only be described as the highest pitch whistle it is possible for the human ear to decipher. It may even go higher than that pitch, I don't know, to my knowledge there are no dogs in my apartment building.If there were they would surely be howling the fucking place down right now.

10 minutes and counting on hold this second time. Now it's a song that started off like a weak version of the power rangers theme song and has gone into some soul singer singing "everything will be alright yeah yeah" over and over again.

No sad soul singer, not everything will be alright. Your career for one thing, is never going to be alright. If you have to sing a song to be used as hold music, nothing is going to be alright for you as a singer. Especially for Optus customers. You're voice has become the voice of evil. The voice that signifies being put on hold for half an hour and then hung up on. You're going to trigger some serious 'Nam-esc flashbacks if I ever hear your voice outside of this phone call.
You should probably give up singing and move to Iceland. I'm less likely to hunt you down and take vengeance against you for your crimes against humanity if you are in Iceland.

Less likely, but not totally unlikely. If I were you I would start running.


RUN.


Good thing I don't value my time or anything. I like being on hold for an hour when there's nothing to do at my place since I have no internet, no games, can't use the phone because it's busy playing me brain melting subliminal message songs, and can't watch TV as I've only managed to get the SBS channels working so far.



DAY TWO

Called Optus again, am on hold again, the time is now 6:00pm exactly on Tuesday. Let's see how we go today.

More torturous hold music, coupled with unbearable static and distortion from what I presume is both the quality of the music and the quality of my phone load speaker.
This music is making me feel like I'm in a waiting room some where with 8 other sad and tired people
where they are playing this horribly happy trumpet music to try and cheer up the poor bastards stuck there. But on the other side of the doors is the lethal injection. So the music is just a macabre insult really.

Wow. Took a dark turn there for a minute.

Oh look someone answered, 8 minutes later. Then said "I'm transferring you to someone else". Have been transferred to the someone else who then once again put me on hold.

2 minutes and counting for this second hold.

After 5 minutes, he is back! And asks if the internet and DSL lights are on on my modem/router.

The answer is no, neither of them are. And his response is "Well you need those to be on otherwise there is no internet connection"

Thanks captain obvious. Not like I called you because I couldn't get that to happen now was it? I just called for a chat. A deep bonding session with your hold music, who has now become my most hated adversary.

Oh good, after another 5 minutes on hold I am told the same thing I was last night, that I will be called back in 5-10 mins when they have talked to a technician.

I call bullshit. I call bullshit on this whole operation people! SHENANIGANS!

My warning to you all:

Get out! Get out while you still can! If you are considering Optus for your internet DON'T DO IT! I BEG OF YOU! RUN, RUN WHILE YOU STILL HAVE MOVEMENT IN YOUR LEGS
BEFORE THEY GO ALL PINS AND NEEDLES FROM BEING IN THE SAME POSITION IN FRONT OF THE COMPUTER WAITING FOR THE HOLD MUSIC TO ENDD!!!!!

Was called back over an hour later, and am now on hold again. I am starting to hate all humans.

Life with Louie the Cat