After 8 hours of work. Half of my fine family presented themselves at the shops, ready to shop. Groanage to the delayed lift home, it meant more hours not in comfort.

I found jeans. It’s really really hard for me to get pants, seriously. I found two pairs – and so bought them both (oww on the pocket). One of the pairs, thanks to Giordano’s free hemming service are being taken up – only 3inches as opposed to Em’s 5… Reasonable deal, getting two pairs at once. So not excruciatingly expensive. I was fairly shocked that I had to get a size 8 for them to even fit me… I’m usually not a size 8. The half size (9) was even too big. Really weird. They aren’t even very tight.

The others were cheaper, still too long, but I like them. Normal size. Thank you. I should be all set for the rest of the year now. Seeing as I’ve worn out most of my other pairs in some way or other (ie: mega holes in the knees).

thus endth blog on jeansies. Can you tell I need sleep?


I am in the first set of chosing classes from the beneficial position of having a last name that starts early in the alphabet. This evening I get a msg from Jess (who’s last name starts with a V ie: not at the start of the alphabet) and she lets me know she has her classes. MINE DO NOT FLIPPING WORK. I have a couple of set one’s listed, and NOTHING else. Which means, I have been forgotten, or I will be stuck with majorly sucky class times, or I am sitting in a backlogged queue. I think I will email them fairly agressively tomorrow if I end up with something crap (tomorrow begins the “Oh, I missed my class chosing time, now I’ll pick from the leftovers, session”), I doubt it will achieve much but I do very much care to bring to their attention that their system is pathetically stuffed.


Work today. 10am-6pm. Too long.

Working with Simone is fine, with Susan is fine but working with Grace gets a bit frustrating. I understand what you mean now Tilla. She has to have everything done her way, tells you what to do all the time without getting the bigger picture, I’ve been told not to disagree with her or she chucks the stink. Lovely Scottish accent, superb with customers (except when you are just trying to get through them fast), fantastic if you appease her. But a whole day of it is a little much. Patience radar on high today. Mark was in this evening (the only guy that works at Dymocks, Bernie doesn’t count: he’s the owner) they pull him in as back-up. Jess has gone overseas, Leigh has left work. We really need to hire someone else.

I saw Rachel Troup of all people yesterday (at work). Did Yr.10 with her, then she left – this is the girl I had great fun debating random things with. She remembered me, and I her. Gave her resume to me. Was weird to see her again, working with her would be interesting.

Quite hilarious chat with a 70yr-old guy about computers today. He does all kinds of courses, fixes his own, has built a computer. Had a bit of fun talking to him about stuff, while he was buying a book on Outlook. He apparently hates Windows 2003 etc. etc. He started recommending various classes to me after I mentioned I was doing multimedia stuff this year. I don’t quite remember how the conversation shifted, and he started talking about stress and pulled his shirt across and showed me this massive scar – pacemaker. Words fled, and I didn’t have any idea where to go with it. The next second he was back talking about computers. How random.

Work was too long. I compromise my 8hr shifts with allowing myself to get coffee. Turns out I get a discount at Mrs. Fields (probably at Gloria Jeans) because I work in ‘the centre’. This is muchly cool.

I had some massively good (if you can say that)constrasts of male behavior. I was taking the rubbish down early on and some kind guy held the door for me, even though he had to wait. Then there was the Swedish guy in the shop who looked elsewhere before looking at my face, I do not exactly appreciate it – it’s rude, not exactly comfortable, particularly before even talking to you. And yes, you can tell where people’s eyes are if you are paying attention. Hi, I’m a lesson in female objectiviy, my face is up here – funny about that. For crying outloud, I was in a work uniform!

…and for something different (you really sort of have to see it) there was this ad that I cut out of the paper yesterday at Jess’s because it made me laugh. Real estate ad for some farm with the following disclaimer:

-Drop the dead donkey-
YES, there has been some interest in this spread at Red Hill South (where?), chiefly from people wanting to konw why the vendors would want to feature a dead donkey in the ad. “We tried to talk the vendors out of that but they insisted,” said Satchwells man Bernard Montgomery. “It’s a newborn foal and in two year it will be a winner. Take it from me.” We trust you Bernine, you’re a real estate agent.

Quite classic. Pity you really need the picture.