Big shout out to the DILTP

I wrote an awesome post to my awesome Dad-in-law-to-be and my computer crashed and I lost it. So will make this short and sweet – COB – you rock! Thanks for reading my blog and still thinking I can marry your son, inspite of the numerous tales of drunken disorderliness.

Will write more soon as have loads to write – life has been jam-packed full of goodness lately!

x

Turtle paradise

With winter being over, there is one member of our family who gets more excited than anyone else. More excited, and much more active.. Mate, the turtle has been making his presence felt – she is up every morning to greet K and I as we sluggishly make out way to the coffee, she is awake at night to come and sniff our feet (that cold little nose can give you the shock of your life when you’re not expecting it!) and she is hungry, hungry, hungry. Like ALL the time.

This morning, we were woken by a loud banging sound, and K, bless him, jumped out of bed, knowing exactly what the problem was. He had seen it/heard it before – Mate was trying to get out from under the TV cabinet and had got a cord caught on her shell. Unable to move forward, she was banging on the bottom of the cabinet until K went to the rescue!

After being pulled to safety, Mate strolled up the passageway (probably to catch a glimpse of my lover in the shower – it is a girl turtle after all – who can blame her!) and wandered around our bedroom. I came out to the loungeroom to start working, and when I went up to see what she was up to, I found her in the shower… And then the idea for turtle paradise struck.

I filled our big bath with lots of lots of water… making it twice as deep as Mate’s tank.. And in she went.. Turtle heaven. Mate could hardly contain her enthusiasm as she did some deep dives, swam a few laps underwater, blew some bubbles up (a sure sign of turtle happiness), and finally came up for air. It made my cold heart sing with joy to see her so happy!

My friend came over to visit and I wanted to show my newly emerged from hibernation, happy turtle off. Azza took one look at the bath and said to me, in a very disgusted tone, “No matter how much disinfectant or cleaner you use, I would never bath in that bath again.”

But what about the happy turtle? “Who cares?” said Azza, “it’s gross.”

Note to self: some people love the turtle. Other’s, not so much.

My other new sister-in-law

A little while ago, I had my mumma to stay for a week and while she was here, I took her out for breakfast with the girls. Now, my girls are all lovely and they frequent this blog quite often. One of them, who I will call GG (Gong Girl), is an absolute riot. She has about 50 million friends on facebook (ok, so that might be an over-exaggeration, but there is probably about a million), she is well-travelled, she loves a drink and she LURVES a laugh. Basically, she is a great chick.

And my ma definitely thought so too. To the point where even at breakfast, she was like “I think I should introduce you to my son.” (ie. my brother, who has been mentioned in this blog before – as the brogan!) GG was getting a bit excited. (Obviously, she was thinking, “hell, if he’s half as fabulous as his sister, he must be a bit of alright!”)

I didn’t have the heart to tell GG then and there at the breakfast table, that my brother was a born-again Christian. Or that he loves musicals. Or that he likes to pretend he’s a bogan. So, I let it pass.

And my little mumma was so excited too.

I didn’t have the heart to tell mum that the next day I sent GG an email, breaking to her the cold hard facts about the brogan. But GG is undeterred. She reckons she can rustle up a bit of Catholic doctrine from her school days. And she even says that they can have a mutual love and respect from all things Andrew Lloyd Webber. Who knows, it actually might be a match made in heaven.

So, GG, if you are going to be my new sister-in-law, welcome to the family. Just so you know, the crazy brother is one of the more normal of the bunch. Leave your sanity at the door, and come on it!

Sobriety on a pub crawl

Oh what fun, I can hear you all think as you read today’s entry title. And let me tell you, it was LOADS of fun. For the first two pubs. After that, it was already getting a wee bit tedious.

It was my best mate’s b’day last week and he decided to have a pub crawl in his own honour on Saturday. K and I warned him that we wouldn’t be drinking (see a previous entry on our tee-totalling adventures), and we felt bad to be letting him down – he was, afterall, expecting us to be, true to form, the life of the party (a.k.a. “the two loosest (or drunkest) people there”). But no, we were the models of sobreity and calm as we supped on soda waters and ocassionally went a little crazy with some fresh squeezed limes.

At about pub three was when things started to slide. That was when my mate started slurring his words, his female friends started getting a bit more touchy-feely than they had been at the previous pub, and K and I could see chaos peeking through the door, wondering if it was time for it’s grand entrance. We stayed for two more pubs.

When we left, we were hugged emphatically and held close, as fond farewells were whispered in voices loud enough to be heard across the room. “I love you guys,” said our mate, as he tried to plant a kiss on K’s cheek, “thanks for staying out even though you’re not drinking. You’re the best. I love you guys.” Drunkenness had well and truly set in. It was there to stay.

And we left. We were home by 8pm. In bed by 10. And woke up the next morning at a crack of dawn, grateful that the month was almost over. Sobreity is boring. I intend to be drunk (and absoluely frickin’ hilarious) next weekend!

Happy birthday to the bestie – hope it was a cracker! x x

The family

Caught up with K’s family tonight – his cousin has a little bubba who just turned 2 so we all gathered at their place to celebrate his cars, trains and hot, red Wiggles pyjamas. He is a serious front-runner as the cutest kid ever!

K’s sister, the afore-mentioned SIL, and his cousin, who I also lurve, J, were talking about my blog. And SIL mentioned that she didn’t think the family had frequented it enough. J reminded her that she was in the entry of the sky-jump and SIL was happy. But I thought I would suck-up a little bit more by putting in an entry just for them. To say thanks.

Thanks for making me feel so welcome in your family. And thank you both so much for being lovely, fun and generally awesome. But most of all, thank you for puttng K in his place often so that he is well aware that the chicks rule around here! It made my transition in as strong-opinioned, stubborn, domineering girlfie all the easier. Ha, ha, ha. Just kidding. Thank you both for being you.

OK, enough sucking up to the SIL and J. You both rock and I love you heaps. Thanks.

Not much to report at this end

As the title of this post says, I really don’t have much to report at this end. Work is pretty cruisey which is nice after 2 years of hell(-stra!). The man is fab and we are pathetically in lurve! The turtle is back and asides from having to inject her every few days with antibiotics (I never, ever, in my wildest dreams, thought that I would end upplaying nursemaid to a turtle!), she is fine and dandy. All in all, life is good. We even got a new pet to add to the mix – Selwyn, the Siamese fighting fish. He lives in an expensive Kosta Boda bowl that I couldn’t think of a better use for, and chances are, he won’t see out the fortnight.. I don’t have a good track record when it comes to piscean creatures! Actually, I don’t have that great a track record when it comes to turtles, but oh well.

Anyway, so it’s better when there’s dramz in the life, for blog-posting anyway.. Because there ain’t much to report on when life is fine.. Here’s hoping all are well out there and life is good. Sending big love from down under to wherever you all are in the world!

End of the holiday blog, and back to normal rambling..

I didn’t get too far with writing about my holiday, did I?

Oh well. A few concerned onlookers have asked why I haven’t been writing.. and the truth is – life has been getting in the way. Things have been busy, busy, busy since getting back from my holidays (which was about 3 months ago). I have loads to write but will keep it concise for you now.. with hopefully (?) some elaboration in later posts..

The man. Yes. Cinderfarkenrella has a new love. And no, it’s not the pot-smoking bogan.. It’s a lovely boy I met at a bar at stupid o’clock in the morning after a good few hours of bevaraging imbibing. He thought i was hilarious when in actual fact I was drunk, and we have gone from strength to strength ever since. Life is good.

The job. Still doing nutso hours and pretty over it. The less said, the better, but let’s blame a certain large Aussie Telco for this blog not getting updated regularly. They kill me.

The flatmate-that-I-love. I still love her, even though she is not longer my flatmate. My boy (let’s call him “K”) thinks we might be lesbians, only because we hang out so much. And we might be. Who’s telling? Heh, heh. JOKES!

Mate the turtle – is still being the best thing ever. He rocks. Everyone needs a turtle as a pet.

Cars – well, here is an update.. I got rid of the car I had with the stupid ex – that was after the blardy thing decided to blow a tyre about 150KMs out of Melbournio on the Hume Highway at 10.30 at night. Of course, I had been on the phone so had no battery with which to call the RACV to come and rescue me. After a bit of a “toughen up sunshine” inwardly-directed pep talk, I got down to changing the fricken tyre (in the dark, on the side of the highway, on my own – the shizzle B-grade horror movies are made of!), but I tell you, that was the last straw.. I was determined to get rid of that car the next day, even if it meant throwing it into the cap of some beggar on the street. It’s day was numbered. And, as the universe always comes through for me, the next day, when I took my car to get the tyre changed, someone, I kid you not, offered to buy the car off me. I was like – what?!?!? So, yup – sold the car to some vehicle broker who happened to be at Beurepaires Tyres. And that night – the Chiko roll mobile went to a lovely couple who came to inspect/buy it.. So the next day. I bought myself the convertible I have wanted for a while. I just like being able to say I’ve been driving around topless!

Anyway, I think that that is enough of an update for today. Big love to all and thanks for always checking back. Will write again real soon! x x

Work drinks with the boys!!

Have got so many tales of adventure and mischief that I don’t even know when to start.. Here is a good place though.. After two weeks of almost solid conference calls (why do people like them so much? Personally, I just don’t get the attraction), the boys (or boizzzz) decided that we all needed a good ole’ heels up. Actually, a couple of the boys were leaving our little gang for greener pastures so they were having one of their “boys nights”. I actually don’t ever get invited to boys night. The boys are generally not from Melbourne so their wives and girlfriends are usually interstate or overseas – you can probably guess the sort of places they go to and can probably also guess why I only find out about the nights out after the fact. Anyway. A few demands to be invited out.. et voila! I got a guernsey to the night.

And we started the evening in a salubrious establishment, which let’s face it was just a restaurant and nowhere near as exciting as the place we went to next.. Kittens. And no, it wasn’t a pet store specialising in bundles of fluffy goodness. It was a strip club. And not a very nice one at that. But the boys liked it. Because apparently, in Kittens, you can actually touch. (In my opinion, in Kittens, I don’t know why you would want to.) At first, I was worried that I may have been holding the boys back, but a few beers into the night, and slowly, one by one, my beloved work colleagues, made their way into “the back room”. A dark, and dingy looking place, with bouncers minding the door, so nosey people (or me in this case) couldn’t even peek in.

One of the highlights (if we use that word loosely), was the oldest, chubbiest stripper i have ever seen, or imagined, doing a kind of gyration as she was perched on the edge of the stage. Behind her was the most athletic, acrobatic, amazingly-figured woman (whom the men deemed “too masculine”) doing splits on the roof, spinning around the pole like there was no tomorrow and other earth-defying feats. And you know who got a dance with one of my lovely boys – yup, you guessed it – the old,chubber. Well done Tom! She wasn’t even wearing a nice bikini!

But I digress. So the talk of the next day was the champagne show – wow! And a good night had by all.  Lots of fun with my boys. Big love to them all and thanks for taking this little worker bee out!

Blogging

Has been a shocker of a week with my poor little brain hurting from all the mobile phone rays beaming through it from either side of my fat head after the 40+ hours of conference calls I’ve been on in the last few days.. To say work has been busy is an understatement. There have been some very tense moments, and some excited people getting on calls and letting the world know who’s boss. Funnily enough, it’s never me telling the world I’m boss (even though I know I am) although have had a few calls where I’ve had to 1) hang up the phone on someone, 2) tell someone to get back in their box and 3) mediate while two normally professional people tear strips of each other. Ahh, the joys of the corporate world!

But my post isn’t meant to be about work at all – it’s meant to be about blogging.. An old friend was in Melbourne last week and was umming and ahhing about starting a blog. Obviously, his is never going to be as fabulous as mine (if in doubt people, I promise that was self-depreciating humour!) I have to encourage those who have a penchant for writing to do it. It doesn’t need to be amazing prose, as this blog surely shows, and it satiates the need that us aspiring writers have to express ourselves in some moderately readable way..  So – Mr Tache – not sure if you are reading this, or if you stopped after the first time (because let’s face up to the harsh reality, it’s not exactly amazing prose!) - get your blog address on here, and I encourage those of you who read this one, to click through to see what he has to offer.

Big love all. x

Back to it

Has been a while, and for those of you who read this and/or know me, and know that I am a big drinker, let me just say – this one was mammoth. Previous hangovers have all paled in comparison to the mega-uber-super hangover I sustained after my best friends wedding. Obviously I wasn’t a bridesmaids – bridesmaids are demure and lovely and don’t get drunked, while guests (such as my good self) obliterate themselves and their livers in the quest for total annihilition/inebriation. This one took the cake. It was so bad that I think it was only by day 4 that I was finally, thankfully, eventually coming good.

And then I called glittergirl.. And on the weekend, while I was skulling champers and ouzo (my bestie is Greek, her dad loves the ouzo!), and kicking my heels up with a fab “oopa!” as I danced like Zorba himself, she was running some 150-km-31-hour-through-the-bush-at-midnight-kayaking-through-mangroves-with-leeches-thing called a geochallenge. And surprise, surprise, it took her about 4 days to recover as well. So which one had more fun, I guess is the question.. as in, which one was worth spending 4 days in a dazed and confused state, not wanting to get out of bed, but having too much of the horrors to be able to sleep? Hmmm, it’s certainly a tough one.

I was just glad when the now ex-flatmate-that-I-love came over this evening on her way to IKEA for home furnishings and brought with her a cask of Yalumba’s finest. It meant she was on the mend as well. And a few glasses have made me feel better – maybe that was what my body was crying out for these last few days..

Anyway – congrats to M and C – big love to both of you – A stunning bride and a gorgeous groom. My camera was a casualty on the night, but I still have a few amazing pics. Thanks for a great day. It was well and truly worth 4 days of my life. x x

Update on the family(s)

Work has calmed down again which means more time for Scrabulous (have had to re-activate stale games), MSN and of course, cinderfarkenrella.. I can probably even find a few inneresting things to write as well.. (here’s hoping anyway..)

So, firstly to my old man darling dad, because I know a few of you love hearing about the dude. He is settling into his new life in “the ‘go” – for those not in the know, “the ‘go” is Bendigo (www.bendigotourism.com) – a town a couple of hours away from Melbourne – which means it’s close enough to see him more frequently than I have done in past years, but not too close that he can choose to just “drop in”. Sweet. Anyway, he is studying which is great, except that his loving daughter is has to help him with his assignments.. Not so great. But anyway. Otherwise, the love it doing well and cruising along.

For those who didn’t realise, my parental unit split in half to become two units at the end of last year and in typical my-family-style kinda way, dad thought “farrrrk this” and moved interstate to get as far away from things as possible.. Some people call it escapism, we like to call it “next!!”

Mum is good too and chillaxing without the dad to look after. She is same old, same old – an earth mother that doesn’t get stressed about anything – the ultilmate cool cucumber. And bro is too. Not much to report for either of them. They just rock as normal.

Closer to home, with my Melbourne family. Flatmate-that-I-love is gearing up for her big move (out).. We are both excited and, as she is moving about 200 metres away, we are working out the roster for whose house we stay at each night.. it will probably be mine when I’m cooking and hers when we go out to eat.. (heh, heh!).

And the other beloved family member, Mate, the turtle is being a little bit loving towards flatmate-that-I-love and I at the moment.. He keeps wanting to sit on our feet. Not sure if it something to do with the warmth or whether he is just being odd, or perhaps whether he has deep-seeded emotional issues. We’re not complaining anyway, it makes a vast improvement from him sulking under the lounge and never coming out to play.

So all in all, life is good. Hello to everyone and thanks for checking back even though I was being completely negligent when it came to my blogoriffic activities. Love all your collective gutses. x x

Busy little worker bee

Thanks to the few of you who have asked where I am and also wanted to know why I haven’t updated my blog recently. The truth be told, I have been blardy busy with my actual real job of late. Well, that and playing computer games online…

So, I went to be the flatmate’s support for Oxfam the other day and was talking to her other support crew member (yes, there was only two of us). Anyway, so he asks me if I play a sport.. And I can’t help but laugh.. And he wonders why.. And I tell him.. That I am a massive computer geek, who lately, is not only obsessed wtih Scrabulous on Facebook, but has also discovered Scramble and the plethora of other massively geeky games in the Mindjolt games suite. He looks at me, almost in disbelief (thankfully it wasn’t digust), and stammers, “Um.. computer games?”

“Uh-huh,” I say, “I love them. I play them til well into the night and often when I am at work. I have met people by playing the games. I’m not even embarrassed by them”

He shakes his head. “You don’t look like a computer geek.”

I sigh. I nod. I sigh again. I can’t help who I am, my friend, I can’t help who I am.

Then Saturday night I go out and get so drunk that I don’t remember leaving the bar I was in, I don’t remember falling down the stairs (apparently, it was HILARIOUS to watch – I can only imagine with the various bruises I have). I don’t remember getting into a cab, getting into my house, getting into bed, or anything at all, actually, until 7.37am (I don’t even get up that early on a school day!) when my raging hangover and inevitable feeling of “oh no..” kept me from more slumber.

Just goes to show that being a massive computer geek and a clumsy drunk are not mutually exclusive traits. Who knew?

Crazy kid

My flatmate is running the Oxfam Trailwalker today. You know, the one that is 100 kms from start to finish that people pass out on and hallucinate at the end of. Yeah, that one. I suggested that she just take the car and have a big piss up with some acid at the end of it for the same effect, but no, she insisted that she and her three colleagues were going to complete the event. And good on her. It’s an impressive feat and I am so proud of her.

The crazy kid title refers to me – I’ve agreed to be their support. Which means standing around in the freezing cold mountains while they come to each checkpoint, cooking food en masse today and worrying that it has just the right amount of carbs and protein to fuel bodies under enormous strain, ensuring that I am cheery and positive and “supportive” enough even in the face of death (they ARE going to look like death!) and then listening to them all grizzle about how hard it has been.. yeah, yeah, well, you lot chose to do it!

Of course, I’m only kidding.. So,to the flatmate-that-I-love and her team – all the very best today. It is for an excellent cause (Oxfam: http://www.oxfam.org.au/) and you are all champions. And I don’t mind that you are going to moan for the next week, I think you guys (black) rock!!

Dodginess

It is damn hot in Melbourne town at the moment and what is there to do in such weather but drink, drink, drink. Drink to quench the thirst, drink to cool you down, and then drink to forget the heat and the smell of everyone else’s sweatiness. A lot of drinking to be done. And flatmate-that-I-love and I did it. We drank like there was no tomorrow all weekend, with the piece de resistance being Sunday evening. I had been sitting around all day on my own, imbibing in a refreshing gin and tonic or three, when my flattie waltzed in to the house. Waltzed/staggered, whatevs.

She waltzed on in with her (married) work colleague who was equally as plastered and the pair of them proceeded to slur, slump and sloth around the back yard and lounge room. It was when the married colleague started busting the moves that I rapidly found the sobreity I had been trying to escape and decided to try and get him out of our house. The turtle didn’t like him and I tended to agree…

Luckily I got the dude out of the house just in time as the flattie’s new squeeze (who we LOVE!) walked in the door shortly after his departure. I wasn’t too drunk to know that timing was imperitive, but wasn’t too sobre to know what exactly he had/hadn’t seen. Let’s err on the side of “he ain’t seen much”.

So the dodgy flatmate proceeded to slur at her new squeeze, while I passed out on the couch in the 40 degree heat. New squeeze was none the wiser (we hope) and flatmate-that-I-love took the day off today (sick=beach and (more) beers). Love it!

Keating… er… Hawke

Had my gorgeous mum here for the weekend and I took her to see “Keating” on Sunday afternoon. For those not in the know, Keating was an Australian prime minister famous for wearing double breasted Armani suits and calling Australia (the nation that elected him as it’s leader) “the arse end of the world”. So all in all, the perfect candidate for a musical comedy. One of the actors did an excellent impersonation of that other memorable Australian Prime Minister, that being Bob Hawke – a true silver fox if ever there was one. And it reminded me of these pics that did the rounds a few years ago. Yes, ladies and gents, the guy with grey hair (who is about 40 years older than all the other people in the happy snaps) is a former Australian head of state. And that makes me proud to be Ostrayan. (Especially the third one where it looks like he has nestled into this girls boob for a wee nap!!)

    

The date

Am back in Melbourne town now, after a fab sojourn to the harbour city. Thanks to all and it was so, so good to catch up with everyone. A big thank you to Loulou for letting me stay and of course for my hot date. “Hot date?” the rest of you ask…

Well, Miss Loulou rang me the day I arrived in Sydney and asked for a favour.. She said she had been asked out by a gent who had forgotten that he had a friend arriving from England. He asked if he could bring the guy along, and therefore, if LL could find a ring-in as well.. And I happily agreed to be the ring-in. I don’t mind talking to the uglyside-kick so that my friend can get some ackshon. I do it with pleasure as my friend duty.

So, we got ready.. and headed to the arranged meeting place.. and checked out the boys. And man, oh man. The love I was feeling for LL was abounding. A tall, good-looking, well-spoken English doctor. Hello!! Drinks and dinner and more drinks followed and all in all, a farken great night. With a hot dude. Even LL agreed I got the better end of the stick.

High fives Miss L!

Thankyou!

So have been having way too much fun up in the harbour city but should put in a mention of my wee sojourn up further north to the Sunshine Coast hinterland to stay with one of my oldest friends and her two screaming kids little angels. I got up there quite late so it was dark and on the first night, I didn’t realise just how beautiful the place she is living is. Her house is set back from the road, there isn’t a neighbour for miles and she was out each day with her two kids… And we all know what that means… topless sunbathing!! Yeeaahh!!

So my boobs are as brown as my beer belly and life is good. No, seriously, it was great to see the little ones, even if their high-pitched screeching got a bit much at times. And QLD is a great place. If the folk up there were any more laidback they’d be walking around doing backbends. I wasn’t sure why Australia’s population of a ex-strippers (with peroxide blonde hair and big fake boobs that make mine look like bee-stings) now all live on the Sunshine Coast (a theory of mine confirmed by my friend who is a nail technician and so does their nails en masse) but think it might have something to do with the perma tans they can get all year round – there are tanning salons on every corner!

But I digress. The point of this was to say a big thank you to the gorgeous glittergirl for having me and for letting me hang out with her gorgeous kids (I don’t know whose they are, because they are both cuties and I know their parents! har, har!!), and most of all for letting me drink beer by her pool topless at 10 am in the morning. You rock!!

Kevin-oh-seven!

Have the bro and mother staying with me this weekend and my brother decided that rather than go out on a Saturday night while on holiday, like a red blooded Aussie bloke, he would much rather stay in and watch the election count. So that is what we’ve done. And it’s been a K-Rudd-slide (Kevin Rudd is down with the homies, yo!). So, now we’re watching the speeches. And Howard (the out-going prime minister, who has just lost the Australian federal election to Kevin Rudd, for those not sure what I’m rambling on about) gave one thanking his long-suffering wife. And while he gave it, she corrected him. That’s what I like to see.

Congrat anyway to Kevin Rudd.. who is giving his in-coming speech as I type.. So far, nothing too funny to report about his, except to note that he is much easier on the eye than ole’ Howard. And his wife did nowt more than blow him a kiss.

Bitter? Moi?

So my friend rings and tells me that the boy she has been seeing has left her – the one she has been putting up in her house AND had recently paid for an interstate trip for.. (can you already see where this is going?). He had left her the way they leave in a movie – with a tearful note (while she was at work) with all the usual (BS) cliches – “it’s not you, it’s me” (he was right there), “you’re a beautiful person” (yes, she is!), “I’m just not sure what I’m doing right now” (um.. being an idiot?).

My friend is a tough cookie and is determined not to show her disappointment but it got me thinking to my own nightmare of a breakup.. and the boyfriend that was involved. And at the end of the day, no amount of blind-love can cover up some home truths and they always come out in the end… the home truths are thus: once a self-absorbed asshole, always a self-absorbed asshole. And once a weak, chicken-shit, easy-way-out kinda guy, always a weak, chicken-shit, easy-way-out kinda guy.

So Y – you know who you are, angel - a guy who writes you his farewell as he skulks away to his other chick’s house is not worth the paper his note is written on. And you, my dear, are worth WAY more than that!

All that glitters is gold

So glitter girl finally got her act together and got onto facebook. Good to see. Took her bloody long enough. I’m going to dedicate my post to her today.. I started this blog after her encouragement to get back into the habit of writing regularly (she wanted me to write erotic literature, at which I’ve failed abysmally, but at least she gets to read some of my output fairly often – *note to self: sauce it up a bit!*). I’ve known glitter girl since I was three – we met at kindy and then went to primary school together before she moved to some once-horse town for a few years.. We reconnected during high school where my scholarly endeavours were scorned by her cool, older mates and then again when we were both 18. It was at this point that she decided to completely and wholly corrupt me take me under her wing.

I can honestly say that probably none of my friends have had as much an influence on my life.. I would never have been as drunk or as hungover (usually on subsequent days) or thrown out of as many pubs, clubs and bars, if glitter girl wasn’t ever-present in my formative years.. it was her idea to flash our bazookas at the octogenarian that was using the ATM on the other side of the window that not only got me thrown out of a pub (that the window belonged to), but also almost got me dumped. But I also wouldn’t have headed east when I did, or got off to such a good start in the beautiful harbour city, if it wasn’t for her constant nagging gentle encouragement.

Anyway, glitter girl. I won’t carry on, but I just wanted to tell you that I love you. And I know you are not a sop by any means, so will do so by saying – you rock and you can lead me astray anytime. Now stop reading this and get back to facebook! xx