Wednesday, February 24, 2010

a dead tree and a stick of ink

wow, i am really stooping. i brought my laptop home after a weekend at the boy's house and logged on tonight* for the first time in months. seriously, it was getting its dust on.

the grand plan was to bash out one of the two promised posts. logging on was a breeze (my password's way too foolproof to forget), connecting to the server a cinch - but do you think my piece-of-crap laptop would actually open internet explorer? well, the answer's no and you don't get a prize if you managed to crack that code.

all the tosh-shit-ba could muster was an indecipherable fail message which took about 27,653 clicks to close.

mmm, to send or not to send error report? as if it makes a lick of difference.

dammit, my computer is nowhere near old enough or cheap enough to be shitting itself.

aaaaanyway, all that to tell you that here i am, writing these words with a pen. AN ACTUAL PEN! have you ever heard of anything so crazy?

i am so reluctant to delve into either of the posts i have planned - mostly because they might be long and it's going to be really annoying to transfer this tomorrow. then again, i seem to get a unique flow on when i'm writing ol' school style so perhaps i should take advantage. then again (again), it's almost midnight and i was stupidly tired at work today.

mmm, i might leave it. but since this is the second consecutive post that's said essentially nothing (and i missed blogtography monday, did you notice?), i'm going to leave you with a little something.

i found this yesterday and saved it immediately with camelshoes in mind. it requires no introduction. i think it speaks for itself.

OMG, it's JUST occurred to me i could have written this in word, saved it on a floppy disk (in keeping with the pen and paper theme) and transferred. idiot. as we've discussed.

* last night

Friday, February 19, 2010

post title goes here

hi. 'sup? sorry about the absence lately. i don't like neglecting camelshoes but, then again, absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

i have two excuses. one: busy, busy week or two at work. which i like, btw. but it means i haven't had time to think about much else. two, my laptop's at the boy's house. i've had heaps of thoughts but no tool to transfer them onto the screen and into blogland. ps: i am not blogging on my blackberry. i can hardly text on that thing.

i do have some posts in the pipeline. some, as usual, will never make the cut but i will promise you the following:
  • a post on hindsight and why it both rocks my world and shits me to tears. anxious, irrational tears.
  • a post on moving house and the emotional stuff inside 'that' box.

right now, i am not committing to anything. the boy is more swamped than me with work at the moment and he has to fit study into his day. this means i don't see him anywhere near as much as i used to which, in turn, means i am soaking up as much of him as i can today.

we have a date with the couch, scrubs and a couple of zooper doopers. bags the pink one.

so as not to leave you with this ridiculously lame post, here's something i've been wanting to say to the world for a while...

gym gloves. i own some. they serve a purpose. i usually wear them if i'm doing a body pump or general weights. but, to the chicks (they're always chicks) who wear them in body combat classes i say to you: "eeeeeeeeerhhhhhhhen". combat instructors wear gloves so participants get a good, solid view of their hands. why do you wear them? does the air hurt?

Sunday, February 14, 2010

how sweet it is

happy valentine's day all.

i am not a complete sap for february 14 but i see no harm in a little celebration of love. so don't grinch my v-day, okay.

i mean, you've got to admit, love (actually) is pretty damn spectacular.


Thursday, February 11, 2010

why am i such a dickhead?

that post title is totally harsh. i am not a dickhead (well, sometimes i am, but not for the reasons i am about to delve into). and wow, i've managed to digress before i've even started. why am i such a dickhead? ha, would you look at that. full circle.


yesterday i broke down. well, not me. my car. harry the yari. i rounded the corner and harry slowed to a crawl. then a standstill. fuck it! that would normally be damn stressful. dead cars usually equal cash hemorrhage. but i knew why my car was dead and it was only going to cost me a little pride.

and a $17 jerrycan.

my petrol light had started flashing about 12 hours earlier. but i stand by the fact i normally get a good two days' worth of driving out of that epilepsy inducer. still, why risk it? see blog title for answer.

i called nrma and said sweetly: 'ahhh, you know how i am not a member? if i joined, would you be able to come and save me straight away?' conveniently, the answer was yes. inconveniently, the annual membership would have cost me more then double. i politely declined and bailed up a colleague because, thankfully, i wasn't far from work and it was lunchtime.

thank you johnno.

then last night i was driving home after dinner with friends. (yummy dinner, btw. sydney siders, try the spanish fly. but stay away from the profiteroles). about 10 minutes into the drive i realised my lights weren't on. that's probably the third time i've done that since i've been back in oz (about four months). i cannot remember ever doing this previously. not even once.

am i getting dumber? no, really, am i? because, when i think about it, it kind of scares me. i am barely clinging to 28. still, to me, that's not anywhere near old enough for the mind to start deteriorating.

i do realise i am being a little dramatic here. i am sure many people have run out of petrol or driven at night sans lights. but it's just that i feel a lot of this stuff is creeping into my life lately.

i searched high and low for that skirt which doesn't need ironing. high and freaking low. in the end, it was sitting on the bed...exactly where i would have put it myself minutes earlier in prep for wearing.

within seconds of being asked to give x to y at work last week, i forgot to give x to y.

and right now, i am trying to think of other examples of my fading brain, which i know exist, and can't. but hey, at least that gives me another example.

if i was always a bit daft, then i think i'd feel differently. but it's new stupidity and it's got me worried. to take the drama a step further, i can't help but wonder whether this kind of behaviour is connected in any way to dementia later in life. because, damn, that's a place i really don't want my brain to go.

but hey, let's laugh while we can.

mmm, i'm being way too dramatic, aren't i?

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

i'm really sorry markus...

...but the messenger kinda sucked.

in case you've missed all of the 18 million times i've mentioned it, the book thief by markus zusak is the most amazing read of all time (according to me, of course). so i was excited but nervous to give the messenger a crack.

i've just finished it*. i closed the cover on the final page and exhaled a little 'eh'. it was so uninspiring. which couldn't be further from how the book thief made me feel.

and i guess that's part of the problem. the expectation. but while i certainly had high hopes, i never thought it would, never thought it could, match the book thief.

the thing is, the messenger was still superbly written. i was continuously struck by zusak's unique style. his blatant risks. but the story line was so....juvenile.

then i wondered: did zusak intended for me to read the messenger?

see, the book thief was billed as a novel for young adults. i didn't know this before i read it which is good because it would have turned me off. instead i was inspired to the core. it's just so damn amazing.

a quick wiki search and i found the problem. the messenger, a multi-award winner might i add, is a children's book.

ahhh, thanks for sharing, markus.

on the surface, nothing about this book - it's cover, it's marketing, it's prime position at borders - indicated i was barking up the wrong tree. and i am disappointed because the cynical me reckons that was calculated. that it was a ploy to rake in cash off the back of the book thief.

and hey, i'm sure it's working and making you big bucks. but is it worth harming zusak's reputation? mmmm.

i can't even be bothered reviewing this. why relive when it was such a bland experience in the first place? i have moved on and alice in wonderland is the beneficiary.

if i want to read a children's book, i'll do it properly, thank you very much.

*where just equals weeks ago.

Friday, February 5, 2010

has anyone ever told you...?

facebook says it's doppelgänger week. and if facebook says it's doppelgänger week, well godammit, it must be doppelgänger week.

karls here took this info and ran with it which i thought was a good enough idea to steal. thanks pal.

i've been told i look like a few famous people in my time. i also believe there's a not-so-famous person traipsing around sydney who looks like my twin. and i look heaps like my sisters. apparently.

i don't see it but you never do, do you?

anyway, chase cutting. most recently i've been told i look like rachel stevens.

rachel who? yeh, i know. that's what i said. best known for s club 7 although she's still pretty famous in london, where i kept (does four times count as kept) getting told i looked like her.

of course, this picture is completely hot and looks nothing like me. but when you google search someone famous, you tend to get all their portfolio type shots. anyway, i kept scrolling in search of something more natural and found this puppy:

yeh, still not seeing it.

next up:

yeh, blonde. i know. but the clarification is always that i look like a brunette version of kristen bell. actually, i am spinning the facts. i have never been told i look like kristen bell. i have, on a number of occasions, been told i look like veronica mars though.

then i went blonde for a while and the comparisons increased.

i'm still not seeing it and ps: i am totally taking the piss in this photo, in case you thought i was one of 'those' girls.

anyway, i've also been told i look like neve campbell and missy higgins, but not enough times to warrant a photo tribute.

i have, however, been told i look like this spunk rat numerous times.

but her fashion sense is way better than mine. that's about it for me. but there one more thing. one thing i must share. it's about the boy. or, more specifically, the boy's doppelgänger. hell-o henry ramsy.

a day later: the more i look at that veronica mars pic, the more i freak out. i can totally see me in that now.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

mmm, crunchy

i don't write much about sport anymore. well, i guess i never really did. here that is. i think it's a hangover from my previous life as a sports journalist. it just feels too much like work when i start getting my sports yarn on.

but a couple of issues from the wide world of sports have evoked...well...grrrr, in me lately. i'll share.

firstly, fucking pakistan. the cricket team, not the country. they've been embarrassed in both the test and one-day series here in australia. but that's not a problem. why would it be? of course, i want australia to win and, to be fair, pakistan are struggling a little and i have a soft spot for any underdog.

well, almost any underdog.

based almost solely on captain mohammed yousuf, i couldn't care less about pakistan's plight. that man is an arrogant twat. he led that team dreadfully. he placed outrageously questionable fields. he showed no fighting spirit.

and then this.

that's shahid afridi and yes, he's biting the fucking ball. he replaced yousuf as captain in the final one-dayer and, like yousuf, led by example. that's is if the example you aimed to set is how to blatantly cheat.

i seem to get a few american readers here at camelshoes and i know you guys don't do cricket. a quick lesson. like baseball, it's a bonus if the bowler (pitcher) can get the ball to spin (curve). unlike baseball, a cricket ball, more often than not, will bounce before it reaches the batsman - so, by biting the ball, afridi is manufacturing spin. or cheating. it's known as ball tampering.

it's done. but it's usually a sneaky because it's, you know, against the rules.

this dickhead just bit the ball like it was a fucking apple. in front of a live crowd, the working media and a national television audience.

post-match, afridi told a journalist he did not put the ball in his mouth.

"no, i was trying to smell it and see how it was feeling," he said.

when the journo suggested teeth are not used for smelling, afridi responded: "sometimes you can do".

from one dickhead to the next. hi willie.

it's just weeks until the 2010 NRL season kicks off but this guy's still desperately looking for a club because he's been burning bridges everywhere he goes.

i didn't really care about his plight, until now. the cowboys, my cowboys, have now expressed an interest in signing the hulking forward.

willie mason is nothing more than a trouble-making egomaniac. the cowboys already have one of those.

johnathan thurston might be (arguably) the best player in the world, but he's the worst thing for that team, in my humble opinion.

if the cowboys sign willie, i don't think i'll have it in me to maintain my support. and i don't think i'll be alone. let that be a warning to you, nq.

Monday, February 1, 2010

blog-draw-graphy mondays

yeh, okay. not exactly a photo. but it's so cute and it's still a
picture so let's all agree to roll with it. okay? good.

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