Funny because it's true

MFC and I are walking down Oxford Street in Leederville with his mother and her partner.

an9ie: And down that street is the little sushi restaurant where [MFC] and I went on our first date.

an9ie: We might even go back there one day and re-live it.

MFC's mummy: Aw, how cute!

an9ie: Except this time he'll actually be nice to me. Ahahahahaaa!

MFC: Hey!

Stupid brain! Why can't you send me nice dreams about unicorns instead?

This morning I turned off my alarm and snoozed for about 45 minutes. During that snooze I had a horribly vivid dream.

I was driving through a suburb in the hills, past a block of flats, and just for a moment, I looked over at the passenger seat and tried to pull a yellow plastic bag towards me. The bag was caught under something and diverted my attention from the road in front of me.

Then I felt my wheels go over something rigid, like a light pole or a long bit of pipe. Bump-bump.

I stopped the car and parked to the side. When I turned my head I saw a figure splayed out on the road.

I had run over a small Chinese schoolboy.

I raced towards him at the same time as his aunt and mother. They were wailing and sobbing, and my lungs clenched as I looked down at his crushed leg, flattened and bruised against the bitumen like an uncooked chicken wing*.

What had I done? I had destroyed his life and mine. My future flashed before my eyes and immediately blanked out. There would be no bright future for me or him.

His mother looked up and me and started shouting. More and more people gathered, either staring at me, or the boy, who was taking shallow breaths and had his eyes closed.

This horrific tableau seemed to go on forever, and then, I don't know, maybe a siren went off in the background, or a crow cawed, or the sun hit my eyes in just the right spot, and I woke up.

I have never, EVER been so happy to drag myself out of bed in the morning.

The message is very clear: avoid the Perth hills like the plague.

* Come to think of it, the rest of him was untouched apart from his leg. And people don't just lie on the pavement with one leg sticking out onto the road. Hmm, suspicious ...

Rodent must-read

Another brilliantly funny post from the inimitable Blandwagon. Bonus capybaras at the end. I especially like the bit that goes:

INTERVIEWER: Porcupines?

AL-MUNAJID: Pointy whores!

Heehee!

Honestly, dude, your true talents are wasted in your day-job. You should have your own newspaper column!

There can only be one response: SQUEEE!

Do you remember the 1986 movie, Labyrinth? I made a very exciting discovery the other day.

Coming home

My favourite time of the week is Friday night. Friday night means the weekend and good things like sleeping in and wearing pyjamas all day, are around the corner.

And yet tonight feels like Friday night, even though it is not. This is because tomorrow I will be learning more about animation.

I am in the second week of my Diploma of Animation (well, actually, the Diploma of Screen and Media - Animation) and I love it so much that I'm worried I'll wake up tomorrow morning and find that it's all a dream.

For most of my life, I've felt like a square peg being forced into a succession of round holes. I've been pushed into places where I don't belong, by my parents (who just wanted me to be happy, I understand that), by the expectations of others (money! Prestige!), by fear and indecision, by myself.

So it is wondrous to find that I am good at something, something that feels natural and right, and even if I'm not good at it right now, I know I will be. I just do.

A few years ago, I met a girl who told me about her father and how much he loved his job. He was an aircraft mechanic, and he adored his work so much that he bought a house near the airport. He couldn't stay away from the planes; to this day he even visits his workplace on weekends and looks for things to do.

That is how I feel. I don't know if becoming an animator will ever make me rich, but I really don't care. I'll be happy, and everything else will follow.

The best of starts

... leads to a productive day.

(Also, hi Sophie, who left a comment in the last post saying that this was the first sunrise she had seen in a while too :)

Remember how last September I was groaning about our busted reticulation and how I had to spend fruitless hours out on the lawn hand-watering it? (Which, although better than nothing, still tends to encourage shallow roots, according to Don Burke. By the way, I was so sad when they took Burke's Backyard off the air. I know it lives on in print and on the Web, but it's just not the same. Sigh.)

After months of hand-watering, and now that summer is over (great timing, huh? The hot days are still coming, though), our sprinkler system is finally fixed. I would pass on the name and number of our reticulation guy, but he's probably too busy sunning himself on his yacht in New Caledonia to pick up more work. I reckon that on a per hour basis, the man is getting paid more than most neurosurgeons.

He didn't replace any sprinkler heads though, so this morning my brother and I went to Bunnings for supplies, then came home and fixed all the heads that were blocked or just going crazy spurting (teehee--that word always makes me giggle like a schoolgirl) water everywhere, and now the lawn can diminish the earth's water supply, twice a week till the rains come, with minimal human intervention.

This means an9ies will no longer have to spend excess time on the lawn with a digital timer, a garden hose, and an expression of suffering. (When cars drove past, she would also pretend that she was not related to the hand holding the hose.)

So much work done, and it is not even noon. Hurrah!

I think I will reward myself by ordering some telescopic loppers (ratchet! Woo!) off the Internet. And some ratchet secateurs, and maybe even a ratchet screwdriver set. Trust me ladies, once you go the ratchet, you never go back. They are so easy on the hands.

Also, bougainvillea; as soon as I get my ratchet on, you're next.

Seafoam sky

This morning I actually got up in time to catch this amazing sunrise. This is a pretty big deal for me as I haven't seen one for months. I've been going to bed exhausted, before finally falling asleep (fitfully), and then waking up the next day feeling bleary-eyed and zombified.

However, against all odds, including getting up to go to the bathroom, and frightening myself by looking between the hair over my eyes and thinking of that crazy little girl from the Ring and then sleeping with the night light on (I say "night light", but it's a lot brighter than that, like the one Chief Wiggum sets up in Ralph's room, if anyone remembers that Simpsons episode); despite all these challenges, I got a good night's sleep last night! And I feel refreshed! My eyes are working and do not resemble limp cocktail onions floating in my eye sockets. Amazing--I didn't realise it was possible to feel this way.

Then I looked out the window and saw this amazing sunrise, and I couldn't stay in bed any longer.


Beautiful. It looks so thick and substantial, like the world's been turned upside down and we're looking up at the sea/sand.

A few moments later, the monster bougainvillea in the corner of the garden hove into view as I looked around. Argh! I hate bougainvillea! They should only be grown in pots. Once in the ground they. Are. UNKILLABLE.


It's hedge-trimmer time!