the end was just the beginning
I was going to whine self-indulgently about my fat again, but it didn't rate terribly well yesterday (what's wrong with you people?) so I've made a commercial decision to save the angst for later. Next best thing? Ranting about the Sprogs. Alrighty then ... shoes and Sprog 2 ... don't get me started. Actually, do get me started, or else I won't have anything to blog... Continue Reading →
Kate Moss' motto: "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels". My motto: "Everything tastes as good as skinny feels." I feel a little sorry for Kate, poor pet. She obviously hasn't tried peking duck or char kway teow or Cafe Sopra's polenta with mushroom and gorgonzola sauce. But mostly I resent her self-discipline. Because I remember what being skinny (well, kind of... Continue Reading →
Y'know what? If I'd stopped work a year earlier, I'd have gone mad. All day, every day, with little people ... not good. I mean, don't get me wrong, Sprog 2 is accidentally-swapped-at-the-hospital-can't-possibly-be-mine cute. She also says adorable things like: "I love you all the way to the universe and back". And I love her all the way to the universe and... Continue Reading →
Is it 'giving up' to wear cargo pants every day? How about if they're dirty? Each morning, I sift through the pile of clothes on the bathroom floor and think: hmmmm, the black, the navy, or the green? Then I dig around in my drawers for a T-shirt to go with them. Preferably one that skims the gut rather than clings to it. And, finally, should it to be the... Continue Reading →
Geez that new Chipmunks movie gave me a splitting headache. Way too much helium-fuelled squeaking. I'm not so good with endless chatter at the best of times. Let alone when it's high-pitched. I've only got about two hours of talk in me during any 24-hour period*. A bit more if I've been drinking. Then I go mute. Watch me at dinner parties, I'm a blast after... Continue Reading →
You know those big, yellow bags they give you at the entrance to IKEA? And the free pencils? (Oh, am I supposed to hand those back? Sorry.) Well, they should be giving out distress beacons. A GPS might come in handy too. Hell, I'd even settle for a map. Especially at their new store in Tempe. What am I saying? It's not a store, it's a maze, a metropolis, a... Continue Reading →
Many moons ago, Husband and I lived in Bondi. Husband loved Bondi. He swam at Icebergs every morning. He breakfasted at Bondi Tratt. He promenaded on the boardwalk. Then Sprog 1 arrived and the 50 stairs to our apartment lost their lustre. I made him move to the suburbs. Or, as I prefer to call them, God's Own Country. I don't think... Continue Reading →
I've created a monster. Everywhere I go it follows me: wife-swap this, wife-swap that. People edge up to me in the park to share intelligence. A mum says she's heard you put a certain pot plant on your verandah to signal your availability. She's been googling madly, trying to confirm which one. Purely for research purposes. A dad reckons house keys are exchanged during... Continue Reading →
I went to school with Kathleen Folbigg. Well, she was Kathy Marlborough back then. We weren't close, but we moved in the same circles. She's probably the most famous person to attend my high school. Well, she's definitely the most infamous. That's because she's serving 30 years behind bars for murdering her four children. Her first baby, Caleb, lived 19... Continue Reading →
It's probably not the first place you'd choose, but I want a holiday house in Newcastle. Yes, yes, Bryon is lovely, Bateman's probably rocks and I know Sawtell is superb. None of them hold a candle to Newcastle. I grew up in Newcastle (so shut your gob). I was dead keen to leave when I was 21. Now I fantasise about moving back (when... Continue Reading →
housegoeshome 