Friday, June 26, 2009

hand prints, phone calls and hair dye

081 My nose has a lump in it. It looks like it’s been broken. I am quite self conscious about…well…everything, but for some reason, I’ve never really been that bothered by my nose. Go figure.

082 I love having new clothes but I hate shopping for them.

083 My legs are fearless against the cold. I could wear shorts in winter. As if to compromise, my arms are pissweak and require a cardy to ward off the lightest breeze.

084 When I was little – maybe about four – my dad was painting his ute on the front lawn. I wanted to help. I started with a brush but continued with my hands. Dad’s car was famous about town for being ‘that ute with the hand prints all up the side’. I wonder if there’s a photo. Mum? I would like a copy please.

085 I injure an ankle probably once every few months. It used to be a reoccurring netball injury. Now it’s just a drunk-with-heels-on injury. I will never stop wearing heels.

086 When my phone rings, I get an instant pang of nerves. It’s an instinctive and uncontrollable reaction and thankfully doesn’t last long. I am almost sure it stems from the time, in about year nine I think, a guy from school rang me to say ‘everyone hates you so why don’t you just fuck off’. School was a barrel of awesome.


087 My belly button is constantly frowning. That’s not a metaphor. My belly button just looks like a sad face.

088 I died my hair last night. It looks exactly the same as it did yesterday. In contrast, my ears, upper back, nails, shower curtain, towel and bedroom wall (???) are all now sporting random spots, stripes and shades of purple.

089 I really want my kids to climb trees, ride bikes, dig holes, explore, create, live and learn. I hope modern technologies don’t stunt those kinds of behaviours. One of the many great games I remember inventing with middle sister was Night(y) Fall (I just made that up, we never named our games). We would both be wearing nighties which fell to our ankles and had no give in them. We would put a mattress on the floor, take a run up and kick. Because the nighty didn’t accommodate the kick, we would fall backwards on the mattress. Surprisingly, I never remember this game ending in tears.

090 Four sleeps. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

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