Stuff Happens To People With Blogs

… about organising a wedding is that the people involved in the industry are a hilarious parody of their stereotype.

I haven’t ventured into the deep, dark depths of the business as yet but have already been scoulded with a “ohhh but those are Autumn colours”.  I’ve also had the most hideous hot pink “frock” shoved in my face from a woman who could have stood in for Prue or Trude (http://www.kathandkim.com/threw.htm).  The same woman who got very confused when I told her I didn’t want red dresses for my bridesmaids, “But you’re wearing red today?” she said.

There is also the endless clucking, smug smiles and obligatory cooing over my engagement ring (I wonder if that’s a ploy to check if you’re a tyre-kicker).  Jackson is lucky, so far he’s only had to deal with some venue co-ordinators and a couple of photographers … these people tend not to be relatively normal.  Relatively.

… of geckos and I’m not happy!

If you don’t know what a gecko looks like … here’s a couple of the little blitters.

I haven’t minded them too much - they climb along the walls so you only really know they’re there if you see one move out of the corner of your eye, or hear them squwarking, oh, or find their little mouse-like dropping along the window sills.  But tonight that changed.

One crawled across my foot while I was sitting on the couch with my feet on the floor.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a scaredy-cat, just ask Brewy about the “spider in the shower” story but if a Gecko is crawling across my foot, it means they’re taking over.  Soon they’ll be sleeping in our bed and hogging all the hot water.

Any suggestions for getting rid of them?

… to have cheeseburgers for lunch three days in a row?

I say yes but what do you think? I lunched alone for three days in San Francisco and it seemed that burgers were the easiest meal of all and, when not purchased from a chain restaurant, is actually really nice.

Thank goodness for all of the walking, otherwise I’d have gained about 5 kilos in those three days.

… is still uncomfortable.

Today my sister and I took our mother and grandmother for High Tea.  Chocolate High Tea to be precise.  The Stamford Plaza in Brisbane holds Chocolate High Tea every Saturday and Sunday from 3pm to 5pm.  The concept is lots of tea and lots of petite, sweet and savoury delights with a high emphasis on chocolate.  Think “Baileys Cheesecake”, “Chocolate and Peanut Caramel Slice”, “Chocolate-dipped Strawberries” and “Mud cupcakes” as well as a smattering of the standard crustless finger sandwiches and too many other petite sweets to mention.

Heaven? Yes.  Filling? Definitely! Almost sickly? For me, yes but for my fellow diners not so much.  I highly recommend the exercise for anyone who has a sweet tooth and is willing to “play ladies” for an afternoon.  The demographic is certainly set for the outing but what could be better than whiling away a couple of hours overlooking the river and stuff your face with chocolate-y delights!

… a 2 year old again!  I’d do anything to be able to eat cake like this!!

… has no synthetic motor oil but a fully automated public toilet?

I had to drive out west today for work and, of course, when I was in the middle of nowhere my car decided to suddenly inform me that it was running on minimum oil.  Now, I don’t know a lot about cars but I know that they like water and there is such a thing as too little and too much oil - both of these latter options have dire consequences.

Thankfully I turned out to be only about 10kms from a place called Oakey - 159kms west of Brisbane, population approx 3,500.  Unfortunately there was only one petrol station and neither of the ladies there could point me in the direction of the synthetic oil.  They did however direct me to ask the Toyota dealer, who read my manual and suggested I got to the Oil and Battery Barn.  They were able to sell me synthetic oil, though I am now the proud owner of 5 litres of the stuff, far more than required!

After this ordeal, I required the public facilities.  The public facility turned out to be automated … fully automated … right down to the electronic toilet paper dispenser and (this is the best bit) the automated soundtrack.  Yep, music to relieve yourself to.  Press the close door button and the music starts, press the open door button and it stops the music and flushes the toilet!  I personally feel that the music was a little uptempo for the occasion but really, what is the precedent for this situation?

… that can’t spell.  But this was worse.  It was a business.

I was grabbing some lunch at a Cairns shopping centre yesterday when I looked over and saw a business displaying the following large sign: “Juices, Shakes, Crapes”.  Now I know there is a word “crape” but who uses that spelling for deliciously light and soft pancakes!

… to fake an accent after a few drinks but without having listened to a real accent before trying.  I was supposed to participate in this challenge Friday night just gone but I decided silence was the best option! 

I went out for a few drinks with my cousin, Keryn, and a couple of her friends. I was going to put a photo here of the two of us but I don’t have one that either of us would appreciate being viewed!

We decided we were in the mood for a bit of a groove but only if it were to some music we knew and could sing along to.  The best spot for this in Brisbane City is apparently the Downunder Bar which is underneath the Palace Backpackers.  I’m only familiar with the place because a few male friends claimed it was THE spot to pick up back in “the day”.  For this very good reason, admittance to the bar is only gained with either a foreign passport, a student ID or a hotel key.  Essentially, you have to prove you are not from these parts or are a student.  Since none of us had the requirements Keryn decided we could all fake an Irish accent.  Well, she convinced the doorman with her accent despite only having a Queensland drivers licence for ID and then Britt did the same. Me?  I just looked at him blankly, flashed my drivers licence and nodded dumbly.  Worked a treat!

We had a great time grooving even if you do have to drink out of plastic cups and Britt realised later that she had a hotel key in her bag so the accents were for nought!

… call, don’t send emails!  I know on occasion I may in my haste type the wrong “their/there/they’re” but in a business email, you need to spell check!

We’ve been trying to get a part on our car fixed and it’s taking ages for the part to come in.  Today I followed them up and received the usual “it’s on backorder” response.  But here’s the kicker … “thanks for your patients”.  I’ve heard of retailers saying “thank you for your custom” but never heard of a doctor or anyone else saying “thank you for your patients”. 

… is the best way to spend an evening.

In my search for a wedding venue I was excited to discover that the Brisbane Powerhouse has just undergone a refurbishment and that one of its re-opening acts was Meshel Laurie.  Sure, I was more excited about Meshel Laurie than the refurbishment but I’m sure you realised that. 

For those who don’t know who Meshel Laurie is, she’s a stand-up comic, TV/Radio personality.  You might remember her from such TV shows as Rove Live, Spicks and Specks, The Glasshouse and she is the current co-host of the Nova breakfast show in Brisbane.  Anyway, I hadn’t been to a stand up show in ages so Jack and I went along to her preview night. 

We were very nervous when we realised that we were in the front row.  Yes, row AA.  Thankfully, Laurie doesn’t tend to isolate and destroy her front row audience, just chat to them, ask them their name and where they’re from and then just make relevant references about them and comments to them throughout the show.  It was a thoroughly enjoyable show about her dealing with her weight throughout her life, doesn’t sound funny I know.  A few topics fell a little flat but I particularly liked her discussions about not wanting to talk about her weight on TV in case people realised she was fat - she particularly didn’t want her husband to find out! 

I strongly recommend that next time you see that a comedian you know is doing a show in your town, you get along.  Maybe not in the front row but get yourself an inconspicuous ticket.  And, if you’re willing to take a chance, the Powerhouse has free local stand up comics and bands every Sunday - Livewired and Livespark - I can’t remember which is which.

… I’m still open to suggestions as to what I can buy Jackson for his birthday.  Sure, it was over a month ago and sure, he’s still angling for a BIIIIIIG television but I think we all know that I’m not going to buy him a TV because he’ll buy himself one and since I have this sparkling thing on my finger now, I’ve got to get him something!!!!

… I give in to the pressure.  For all those people who keep saying, “Emma, when are you going to write a blog about getting engaged”.  Here it is!!

So, for all those people that I haven’t called and who may occasionally stumble across my blog, Jackson asked me to marry him and I said, “Really?”.  Don’t panic, I didn’t leave it at that, I did say yes eventually.  To answer all of the questions that you’re sure to have, refer below:

1. No, he didn’t get down on one knee.  Given the rough terrain of the headland on which we were sitting, chances are he may have toppled down into the sea and, let’s face it, I may not have managed to get the ring off him in time

2. No, we haven’t set a date.  We’ve got a date we’re working with but so far we don’t have a venue so we don’t really have a date.

3. Yes, my engagement ring is beautiful and it’s actually one he picked himself though I’d seen it in the store so he knew I liked it.

4. Yes, I will try very hard to not become a bridezilla, then again, best laid plans

Stay tuned, I’m sure in our adventures of trying to figure out how to get married and organise a wedding I’ll come across some amusing people and situations.

… that stuff happens to people with blogs!  Let’s recap on what I haven’t blogged about …

February - Lots of work including a conference that was insane in Adelaide and a very long drive from Rockhampton to Townsville. A wedding in Canberra in which I drank too much (not my fault of course!). Yep, not much else.

March - Lots of work including a couple of functions at which I drank too much (not my fault of course!). A trip to Sydney for a friends engagement party, a time in which I got to take advantage of being in Sydney to meet up with a few friends I haven’t seen in ages. Plus, quite a bit of badly played netball.

April - My birthday (I got a watch and a mower - every little girls dream no really, I was very excited!).  A few too many drinks with my cousin (you guessed it, not my fault!). Plus, most importantly, the birth of my nephew, Max.  Check him out.

So, next up in the exciting world of Emma is Jackson’s birthday (in 2 days!), any ideas for what I can get him?  Check back here in about 5 minutes to see Jackson tell me he wants a really big TV.

… while I know that it was the Australian Day long weekend and I know that the finals of the Australian Open were on, why oh why, did some fool feel to the need to shout out “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi” during the final match?  He knew that the players were Swiss and Chilean, right?  All I’m saying is that while patriotism is nice (though surely someone can come up with an alternative war cry, because that is getting really old) it really does have it’s place.  During a match in which no Australians are competing is not it’s place and the cry fell dead, deservedly so.

… to be a little drunk on Australia Day, to watch sport, and to listen to the Triple J Hottest 100, but what about sitting on a dunking machine in a white top, with no bra on, in front of a crowd of drunk men shouting “Off, off, off”!  Last time I checked, that was not in my Australia Day agenda.

So I found it surprising that this activity would be in anyone’s agenda on ‘Our National Day’.  We spent the morning listening to the above mentioned music countdown before picking up Kelly and Jaimee and heading for the annual Cockroach races held at the Story Bridge Hotel.  Yes, cockroach races.  You can BYO or purchase a ‘roach imported from Melbourne, why Melbourne I don’t know as there are certainly some ‘roaches to be found here in Queensland.  They have some 15 races with proceeds from entry fees going to the children’s hospital. 

Now the average age of ’roach spectators was about 20 so when you combine youth, alcohol and the 30+ degree temperature, you’ll find that many of the spectators were shirtless. Except for those brave young girlies who decided to do their bit for a childrens hospital and sit on a dunking machine to raise money and … spirits, the wardrobe of those little girlies varied from white tshirt with bra, white tshirt without bra, bikini tops and one little lady who had nothing but shorts and hands to cover the … you get the idea. 

With an expected crowd of 7,000, we only managed to see one ‘roach race but thankfully were near the back of the grandstand so those delightfully squashed creatures being thrown at the crowd post race, didn’t make it back to us.  After that we decided to head to the more sedate Pineapple Hotel where we stumbled into the cool oasis that is the public bar.  Ahh, the public bar, long forgotten by all but the barflys once a trendier terrace area is built.  But after the mayhem of the cockroach races, the icy, empty interior of a public bar with it’s neverending Keno and multiple sports channels, was heaven.  Of course, we only stayed long enough to cool down and get a drink before moving to the trendy new terrace but in our defence it overlooks a park where the pub crowd were taking turns to drink and then run out into the park for a ramshackle cricket match.  Now that’s Ozstraaaalian!

… for other girls like me!

http://www.completeevil.com/geek.html

OK, so Star Trek isn’t an issue thank god but this article, which Jackson has asked me to read, has some very useful tips. Though these days I’m spending almost as much time in front of a computer as he is!!

… my arse!

Champions of the world we are, well ok, Premiers for division 3 ladies netball.  Yes, we triumphed this season not only finishing the season top of the ladder but also taking home the coffee mugs in the grand final.

OK, to ensure the history books show a fair account of our victory I’ll be honest … our opposition in the grand final couldn’t field a team and so they forfeited.  There, I said it, we won by default, are you happy now!

… the solution to jetlag?

While sure, I’m doing a lot of travelling, it’s not me I’m worrying about.  We fly to Europe in about 10 days and Jack is currently in the States.  He flys from the east coast of the USA and gets back here in about 7 days.  So that’s around 20 hours in transit to spend 3 or 4 days at home before spending 24 hours in transit to get to Frankfurt.

Perhaps he’ll adjust better than me but perhaps he’ll be a complete feral for the first week of our holiday.  Any suggestions? 

… well not yet anyway. I’ve not been a very good bloggity blogger of late and I apologise to all my loyal readers (yes, all two of you … at least I hope there might be two!). The problem has been that this wonderful new job I have has had me travelling to Sydney three times in the last three weeks. While some may think this sounds good let me set the picture for you.

It’s a really long way from Sydney city to where our office is. So while the hotel is nice and there is a nice pizza/pasta shop a 10 minute walk away … that’s about it. Five nights sitting in a hotel room with not much to do but watch television and try not to think about the mini bar isn’t exactly exciting.

Don’t get me wrong, I did have dinner with my friend Jacqui a couple of times, which was a great catch up and I learnt some “stuff” from my new department but I’m hoping that when I come back after my holiday, work will get a little more exciting. At least I know my blogs will!!!

… and own goal??? Crap!

Last night we headed over to Suncorp Stadium to watch the international “friendly” between Australia and Paraguay. The game was highly anticipated as most of the Australian World Cup squad was playing, though Jackson was distraught that his favourite, Mark Viduka, wasn’t playing. (I was excited because the delightful Lucas Neill and Brett Emerton were!)

The game was great and the crowd raucous, all 48,000 of them, though anything would be raucous given that the last time the Socceroos played in Brisbane there was apparently 3,500 spectators. What a difference a recent World Cup appearance makes!

A quality game was played and the crowd went wild in the 87th minute when Australia broke the 0-0 deadlock with a GOAL! The crowd feel silent in the 92nd minute when some poor kid who’d just come off the bench tried to knock the ball out and instead just knocked it into the Paraguayan goal … own goal Strange finish to the game, the crowd were just stunned and the full time whistle was blown to subdued applause.

… when you have really low expectations to start with!

It turns out it’s been 10 years since we strutted our stuff in what was affectionately called our “smurf uniforms”. Through the internet grapevine our invitation arrived and was met with much trepidation. Counsel was sought, do we, don’t we? Is it lame to go or to not go when it’s just an hour away? In the end, we decided to go in a group of six … well I was in the decision-making and Jackson was told he was going.

As tends to happen with functions you dread attending, our group of six arrived approximately an hour late and with three or so drinks under our belts - dutch courage perhaps. We entered the local golf club as a strong wall of negative energy and were quickly attacked by organisers wielding sticky name tags and old friends and acquaintances. What happened to my group of six I don’t know as I hardly spoke to them all evening, instead my limited attention span was overwhelmed by wave after wave of long lost “best friends”.

OK, it wasn’t awful, even Jackson admitted it was fun, though the subsequent drama of getting about in “ClownTown” after dark spoiled the party. There is an objection amongst locals or expats against paying cover charge for the towns only official “nightclub” particularly when there is an inflated price for a guest DJ who turns out to be one of your old classmates. And, in a town that is supposed be a hive of tourism, you wouldn’t think you’d need to wait around an hour at the taxi rank on the first weekend of the school holidays.

In hindsight, we should have done the reunion thing and then regrouped our team of six to head home for a few nightcaps but it was a reunion so surely we were supposed to act like 17 year olds and stay out to late rather than the “sensible” old things we’ve become.

… in your new job.

1. Go on your first store visit with one of the current Account Executives

2. Stand around talking to the sales staff at the store waiting for the 2IC to finish with a customer

3. Get introduced to the 2IC

4. Die of embarrasment when he says “I know Emma, we met in a bar”

5. When the sales staff laugh and walk off, crawl into the nearest large display appliance such as a front loading washing machine

6. Stay in said appliance until your face returns to a normal colour and you figure out how to regain your dignity and professionalism

Yes, I think I made an impression, I’m just not sure it’s the impression I was after!!

… but this time it was Jackson’s work!

We were invited by Muzza and Marilou to their catch up / engagement party at the Normanby Hotel in Red Hill. They recently moved to Sydney and got engaged so it was great to be able to see them again. Of course, what-his-faces Law says that if we have a party to be at then Jackson’s work will have a crisis that requires his expertise. Luckily we were only an hour late and I could honestly tell people it was not my fault! We didn’t take our camera out but got a quick snap before we left the house, spiffy looking hey?

It was quite a strange evening, purely because I wasn’t anticipating knowing many people and I actually knew more than half the party. We caught up with friends we hadn’t seen for a while and some others we’ll see next week at our 10 year High School Reunion (watch this space for what will surely be an entertaining ride back in time).

Normanby Recommendation: Whatever the Duck Pizza is … strange but true, it was nice, even the cold bit I got.

Normanby Warning: Watch out for the ladies bathroom, particularly after a race day, for girls regurgitating whatever it is they’ve been consuming into the basin and falling all over the place. Nasty.

… get new jobs!!

Yes, that’s right. At last, a new job. Ok, so it’s with the same company … in the same office … but really it’s a new job. I’ve moved departments and as everyone else in this new area is based in Sydney I’ll be working solo and have permission to completely ignore the rest of my office. This is a dream I’ve had for a very long time.

Jack and I decided to go out and celebrate my new job. We headed down the road to an Italian joint called Campo Dei Fiori which Jack had thought was a “Fasta Pasta” place but on examining the menu, tasting the food, and checking the bill … he revised his judgement.

Jack and I have a tradition, though it’s one I don’t enjoy. Jack always orders something delightful and I always order something average. Well, well, well, haven’t the tables turned with the change of jobs. Jack ordered the special of Tiger Prawn risotto and though he was happy with the consistency of the risotto he was saddened when he realised how spectacular my Penne al Funghi was. Score 1 for Emma. These two dishes combined with a nice Shiraz and a 10 minute stroll home made for a lovely evening.

… just a little bit.  Enough to email them anyway.

You will be pleased (though Cindy will be disappointed) to learn that Not By a Long Shot  have triumphed over evil and the Indoor Centre has corrected the scores for that now infamous game.  It seems that it was the Centre’s error so I’m pleased I didn’t take Simone’s advice and clock the referee in the head at our next meeting! 

For those with a competitive nature, they will be pleased to know that this also puts us back up to the top of the ladder after temporarily being dropped to 3rd.

Ahhh, it seems a well written, passive-aggressive email is always the answer!

… my nephew Luke and our friend Renee. Little Lukey turned 1 on Saturday and Renee will be having an undisclosed birthday on Tuesday.

This made for a busy Saturday starting with a morning tea party for Luke. Unfortunately, the weather decided not to agree with the plan and poured with rain shortly after the party started and cleared up shortly after the party finished! What happens when you relocate 5 toddlers and babies into a loungeroom with parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and friends. Chaos! What else?

After feasting on fairy bread and chocolate crackles we headed home for a rest - babies are exhausting. Our next engagement was Narayan and Renee’s farewell drinks and Renee’s birthday celebrations. There is nothing more enjoyable than putting on your cute high heels and trying to run through the rain sharing an umbrella with Mr Long Legs. The open fire of Hotel Bravo was a most welcome relief as we shook off the umbrella and settled in with a drink.

After a few drinks, a nice steak, and a few more drinks, we said our farewells and wished them well on their trek to the Isle of Mann. We hope to meet up with them during our trip but for now it’s bye, bye to another set of friends, lost to the appeal of Europe.

… when maybe I do, a little bit?

I have a question to pose and I’ll warn you now, this is about netball, not social etiquette - well maybe a bit of both.

We played last night and it was a close game, in part because I seemed to have forgotten the part where I’m a goal shooter and I am therefore supposed to get the ball through the hoop. Anyway, we won by 2 points. I looked at the results this morning (you can too, it’s the link on the left remember) and they put the scores around the wrong way and recorded us as losing.

So do I say, “oh well, it’s just social netball” or do I call them to correct them or wait until next week and mention it to them then. And then what happens if they say, “well that’s what the referee recorded”? I can hardly ask them to call the other team to confirm that we beat them can I?

So my questions is, how relaxed should you be about social netball and what are the rules when disputing a result? (I think it is also important to remember when considering this question that for the two teams who play in the grand final, the trophy is a black coffee mug, of which our house currently has five … but others in the team may not have one!)

Let me know what you think.

… I’m a bit of a netball geek. I even wear gloves but it’s not what you think, I’m mostly too lazy to cut my nails all the time. Despite popular belief, wearing gloves has nothing to do with being good (unless they’re black gloves, those things are serious).

So needless to say I thought I should have a link to my netball team “Not by a Long Shot” on here and I thought I’d best explain in case anyone was wondering. I play GS (goal shooter for those not in the know) most of the time which means I pretty much just stand around and wait for the ball to get thrown at me. It’s a cushy job.

As I write this post we’re on top the ladder - watch this space as we slip down through the season!

… that stuff happens to people who have internet blogs.
People with internet blogs either have crazy stories to tell, go on envy-envoking jaunts or have fascinating/ridiculous/absurd (choose your own adjective) opinions to broadcast. So I figure, I’ve gotsa get me one of these blogs.

First question, how do you get a blog? If you’re me, you get your Jackson and his workmates to be your IT helpdesk and … voila’, one internet blog!

Welcome to what will potentially be one of the most dull blogs on the world wide web, however, we are heading off on an overseas jaunt soon so this will be our base for communication and photographic delights while we’re away. See, stuff really does happen to people with blogs.