Where is there the 6th edition of the chronicle of Emmeline and the man who is a twin you ask? Well it's taking a Sunday rest and the next edition will be on http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/on Monday. If you missed the last edition or have no idea what I am talking about and you have burning desire to know - check out http://www.annycook.blogspot.com/.Every Sunday morning I wander out in my flannelette pajamas and pick up the newspaper from the front lawn - well it's not actually lawn at the moment it's more dirt because of the drought but you get my drift. I think wearing your pj’s outside on your property is socially acceptable – though I did see someone wearing them grocery shopping last Thursday night so I guess there is no hard an fast rule when it comes to pink flannelette. Any thoughts on this? Please advise.
Anyway once I have the newspaper, I settle down with my coffee to read what is going on in the world. This morning I did find out that I was not on the 100 richest people in Queensland list. What a shocker that was and I have to ask does anyone really give a rat’s arse who is the richest person? Obviously someone must as they printed it. But really it’s not going to make a lot of difference to anyone but the person who is called the richest is it? And then what do they get out of it? Okay, yes, they get money but it’s not like they can wear a badge that says “I am the richest person” – because everyone would go ‘so what’ or rob them. After flipping through the richest people and not seeing any of my friends either, I took a cursory look at politics - the latest ‘pick me and I’ll be the bestest at running the country’ contest, then I avoided the sports pages because other than men in short shorts who cares and finally I flipped through for the horoscope as that is vitally important. There was a moment of panic when I could not find it. How can I be expected to start the day without it for god sake? When I found and read Scorpio, I discarded it immediately as it was boring and not what I wanted to hear. I prefer to read the Scorpios will win much money and will never have to work again. I don’t want to read about adversity and perseverance as they just suck. I need to hear about the mystery man who will sweep me off my feet and lavish gifts upon me as we travel the world. Maybe next Sunday.
I drove up to the Sunshine Coast, home of the late Steve Irwin. There is still a huge billboard with his face on the side of the road advertising Australia Zoo. I admire anyone who has great passion – Steve had in bucket loads. Every time I see that sign I tell myself I need to live more like I mean it and to be more passionate about the important things. RIP Steve. Speaking of passion and important things, as I was driving it started to rain. I was stunned. Rain. Wet Stuff from the sky. Bloody hell, who knew? I was momentarily confused but I managed to remember where my windscreen wipers were. Rain is an exciting event at the moment. People talk about it for days. Unfortunately – an hour away in my own home town of Brisvegas it did not rain. Fickle stuff rain. But I did see it and that alone made me happy and hope springs eternal...now if I can just get me that rainwater tank...
When I arrived back from the Sunshine Coast I knew I had to do some exercise. No, I am not and never will be an exercise junkie. I hate, loathe and despise it but I have lost a lot of weight and the only damn way to keep it off is exercise and that sucks badly. Added to that I had consumed quite a bit of crap this weekend so after much swearing I knuckled down to exercise. I have an exercise bike, stepper and other torture equipment at home. I can only exercise if I watch television as it takes my mind off the what I am putting myself through. In lieu of nothing to watch on TV – no, I don’t have cable – yes how dreadful and backward I am – I put on a video – yes I still have a VCR. Why – because. Anyway I rifled through my selection of old favourite movies and I came across Thoroughly Modern Millie. If you haven’t seen it – see it. It’s romantic, slapstick that is funny and innocent. Anyway I taped it years ago. As I was sweating away, I realized I had taped it late 1980-early 1990’s. Bloody hell! The commercials! Didn’t we wear some horrible clothes in that period? Waist bands were high, hairstyles were big and poofy and we seemed to like plaid a lot. I had read just recently that the 90’s look is coming back. Why don’t we learn anything when it comes to fashion and more importantly why do so call fashionistas call the shots and make people wear such ugly crap? I don’t follow fashion. I wear what is comfortable and suits me. I don’t need some scrawny blonde haired airhead with a toy dog in her handbag dictating trends.
So that was my Sunday. I am going to write a bit and then crawl into bed so I get a good sleep and I am all ready and refreshed for another exciting Monday morning at work…okay, that did not sound sincere but I will work on it. Should have it down pat by Friday afternoon.
I drove up to the Sunshine Coast, home of the late Steve Irwin. There is still a huge billboard with his face on the side of the road advertising Australia Zoo. I admire anyone who has great passion – Steve had in bucket loads. Every time I see that sign I tell myself I need to live more like I mean it and to be more passionate about the important things. RIP Steve. Speaking of passion and important things, as I was driving it started to rain. I was stunned. Rain. Wet Stuff from the sky. Bloody hell, who knew? I was momentarily confused but I managed to remember where my windscreen wipers were. Rain is an exciting event at the moment. People talk about it for days. Unfortunately – an hour away in my own home town of Brisvegas it did not rain. Fickle stuff rain. But I did see it and that alone made me happy and hope springs eternal...now if I can just get me that rainwater tank...
When I arrived back from the Sunshine Coast I knew I had to do some exercise. No, I am not and never will be an exercise junkie. I hate, loathe and despise it but I have lost a lot of weight and the only damn way to keep it off is exercise and that sucks badly. Added to that I had consumed quite a bit of crap this weekend so after much swearing I knuckled down to exercise. I have an exercise bike, stepper and other torture equipment at home. I can only exercise if I watch television as it takes my mind off the what I am putting myself through. In lieu of nothing to watch on TV – no, I don’t have cable – yes how dreadful and backward I am – I put on a video – yes I still have a VCR. Why – because. Anyway I rifled through my selection of old favourite movies and I came across Thoroughly Modern Millie. If you haven’t seen it – see it. It’s romantic, slapstick that is funny and innocent. Anyway I taped it years ago. As I was sweating away, I realized I had taped it late 1980-early 1990’s. Bloody hell! The commercials! Didn’t we wear some horrible clothes in that period? Waist bands were high, hairstyles were big and poofy and we seemed to like plaid a lot. I had read just recently that the 90’s look is coming back. Why don’t we learn anything when it comes to fashion and more importantly why do so call fashionistas call the shots and make people wear such ugly crap? I don’t follow fashion. I wear what is comfortable and suits me. I don’t need some scrawny blonde haired airhead with a toy dog in her handbag dictating trends.
So that was my Sunday. I am going to write a bit and then crawl into bed so I get a good sleep and I am all ready and refreshed for another exciting Monday morning at work…okay, that did not sound sincere but I will work on it. Should have it down pat by Friday afternoon.
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2 comments:
I LOVED Thoroughly Modern Millie! Heh,heh,it was so funny. Yep, that's a good one. BTW, I don't have cable either. Actually, the TV is in the junk room. Dh clears the stuff in there enough to watch it during football season, but otherwise, it isn't even watched. I suppose if there was some earth-shattering event we would find a way to get to it...
We should ever want you to remain in fashion dear AJ. So baby steps. Perhaps begin with a plaid pink flannelette, and cease brushing your hair. Bed-head should make a pleasant derivitive for the 90s puffy locks.
As for odd. I prefer to think of myself as "uniquely unusual" or better, Quirky. But I wear it as a badge of honor.
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