I think I broke my toe.
Not a situation that I'd normally blog about but....
a. it was funny
b. it involves the bathroom lagoon, of which you are familiar.
Here is the story about how I think I broke my toe this morning.
I was sitting on the edge of the lagoon, waiting for the shower to get warm, when I slipped, so imagine.....a nude waterslide!
My toe hit the other side of the spa when I landed (still in a seated position), and I think it might be broken.
What made it a really difficult situation was that my toe was throbbing with pain...but I couldn't stop laughing cos it would have looked hilarious!
The trouble I go through to give you people a blog!!
Cheers,
L
P.S. I bet that will stop my ballet career for a while
Friday, May 23, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Why isn't my life like a movie?
So, Friday morning, I stumbled on a new theoretical framework for my research project. A fairly big deal, but I shan't bore you with the details. Suffice to say that, despite last night being a Saturday, I spent time in front of the computer writing, rewriting, thinking and rethinking (not necessarily in that order).
At about 11, I'd had enough of the aforementioned thinking...so I turned on the telly.
I found an old 1930's movie called 'The Body Snatches'. Now, I do love an old sci fi. My favourite movie of all-time is called, "The thing with 2 heads". It's from the late 60's and it's about a white supremacist who is about to die, but has invented a method of grafting his head onto another person's body. When he expectedly slips into a coma, his colleagues find him a body. Unfortunately, it is the body of an African-American man on death row. Not so much of a problem you say....However....for the first month or so, both heads need to be attached. So the movie pretty much consists of a man in an overlarge suit, punching a plastic head sticking out of the collar.
But last night, I was disappointed...for a bit.
"The body snatches" wasn't about aliens (as I had thought), but a 1930's medical drama (ER of the depression era), where one of the main characters stole bodies from the graveyard to further medical science.
That wasn't particular exciting, but there was a subplot that caught my attention.
The doctor was treating a young girl with "the paralysis". Several years earlier, she had been in a carriage accident, and "the paralysis" had seeped into her "nerve canal". Gee, that would annoy you, wouldn't it?
Apparently, there was an operation that could cure the injury, but it had never been done before (I would venture that not many operations had been done by then. You'd probably be safe with an ingrown toenail, but maybe not!).
Doctor was thinking about doing the operation, and wanted time to think. Then, the mother of the "poor unfortunate" said the line of the movie, and one to which I now aspire....
She said....
"Doctor. If you choose to do the operation, please tell me by Tuesday. I will be taking my crippled daughter to the park on Tuesday. I take her there every week for an airing"
Gosh. I forgot to air myself this week!!!!
Cheers,
L
PS. This attitude was really only 2 generations ago! Go the cause!!
At about 11, I'd had enough of the aforementioned thinking...so I turned on the telly.
I found an old 1930's movie called 'The Body Snatches'. Now, I do love an old sci fi. My favourite movie of all-time is called, "The thing with 2 heads". It's from the late 60's and it's about a white supremacist who is about to die, but has invented a method of grafting his head onto another person's body. When he expectedly slips into a coma, his colleagues find him a body. Unfortunately, it is the body of an African-American man on death row. Not so much of a problem you say....However....for the first month or so, both heads need to be attached. So the movie pretty much consists of a man in an overlarge suit, punching a plastic head sticking out of the collar.
But last night, I was disappointed...for a bit.
"The body snatches" wasn't about aliens (as I had thought), but a 1930's medical drama (ER of the depression era), where one of the main characters stole bodies from the graveyard to further medical science.
That wasn't particular exciting, but there was a subplot that caught my attention.
The doctor was treating a young girl with "the paralysis". Several years earlier, she had been in a carriage accident, and "the paralysis" had seeped into her "nerve canal". Gee, that would annoy you, wouldn't it?
Apparently, there was an operation that could cure the injury, but it had never been done before (I would venture that not many operations had been done by then. You'd probably be safe with an ingrown toenail, but maybe not!).
Doctor was thinking about doing the operation, and wanted time to think. Then, the mother of the "poor unfortunate" said the line of the movie, and one to which I now aspire....
She said....
"Doctor. If you choose to do the operation, please tell me by Tuesday. I will be taking my crippled daughter to the park on Tuesday. I take her there every week for an airing"
Gosh. I forgot to air myself this week!!!!
Cheers,
L
PS. This attitude was really only 2 generations ago! Go the cause!!
Monday, April 21, 2008
knowing when to fold 'em
Firstly, thankyou to all you helpful people who, after reading the last blog about my lagoon have:
a. suggested I wear a life jacket at all times, just in case I fall in the spa
b. offered to supply me with a "hoist fairy" to get out of the said lagoon
c. come round to my house, walked into the bathroom...and laughed your heads off!!
Now for today's story:
So, my new doctoral topic is about the use of intuition by occupational therapists. In itself, it's pretty interesting. However, right now, right at the beginning of my exploration, it's fascinating because I get to look at the use of intuition in other fields.
I've looked at the research about expert:
- chess players (who can think 15-20 moves ahead, and intuitively know which is the right move)
- midwives (who know when things are not quite right, even if the machines say they are)
- airline pilots (who can get a sense of how the whole plane is working, rather than isolated instrumentations)
- and poker player (who, apparently, know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run).
But the most interesting of all....the use of intuition in marketing (ie, using our intuitive urges to make us buy something). Sneaky.
Then, today, I was at the shops, and I came across this little bit of marketing....
In case you can't see it properly...it's an aisle of priceline entitiled "weight loss". The pink boxes on your left are "celebrity slim" (what, pray tell, do you think they contain?!?!@!@), and on the other side.....chocolates and confectionary.
Do you think priceline is keeping itself in business there? You know how it goes, you've eaten nothing but celebrities for days, and you just need a starburst. (hahahahahaha)
I'm going to bed know. Clearly I'm silly tired.
Cheers,
L
a. suggested I wear a life jacket at all times, just in case I fall in the spa
b. offered to supply me with a "hoist fairy" to get out of the said lagoon
c. come round to my house, walked into the bathroom...and laughed your heads off!!
Now for today's story:
So, my new doctoral topic is about the use of intuition by occupational therapists. In itself, it's pretty interesting. However, right now, right at the beginning of my exploration, it's fascinating because I get to look at the use of intuition in other fields.
I've looked at the research about expert:
- chess players (who can think 15-20 moves ahead, and intuitively know which is the right move)
- midwives (who know when things are not quite right, even if the machines say they are)
- airline pilots (who can get a sense of how the whole plane is working, rather than isolated instrumentations)
- and poker player (who, apparently, know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run).
But the most interesting of all....the use of intuition in marketing (ie, using our intuitive urges to make us buy something). Sneaky.
Then, today, I was at the shops, and I came across this little bit of marketing....
In case you can't see it properly...it's an aisle of priceline entitiled "weight loss". The pink boxes on your left are "celebrity slim" (what, pray tell, do you think they contain?!?!@!@), and on the other side.....chocolates and confectionary.
Do you think priceline is keeping itself in business there? You know how it goes, you've eaten nothing but celebrities for days, and you just need a starburst. (hahahahahaha)
I'm going to bed know. Clearly I'm silly tired.
Cheers,
L
Monday, March 31, 2008
The Bathroom Lagoon
Now, you are so lucky I can write this blog.
You are so lucky that I'm not drowned, waterlogged, floating or pruney (as in wrinkled...not purple with a pip in the middle).
You see....
The bathroom in my new house has a lagoon in the middle.
Well, I call it a lagoon. I suspect that Bunnings call it a spa for two, and Shane Warne calls it "woohoo!!!"
Either way, it doesn't matter what you call it, I have a massive triangular bath-like washing vessel in the corner of my bathroom. After a 4 year undergraduate degree, and 2 years of a doctorate, I am qualified to say, "that's not wheelchair friendly". But, in accordance with the theme of my life, "let's give it a red hot go"
Here's some things I've learnt about lagoons since moving to this new house:
- If you don't fill the lagoon above the level of the jets, those jets spray the water at an angle of about 45 degrees into the air.
- If you are the same height as me, reaching over to turn the lagoon bubbles on, your face will be about 45 degrees above the jets...in the air. You do the maths
- If you do fill the lagoon above the level of the jets, it's very deep
- If you are the same height as me, it might be a good idea to wear a life jacket or some type of scuba device
- The best way to relax in the lagoon is to close your eyes
- The worst way to relax in the lagoon is to close your eyes...as that is when Reg-the-circus-dog is unsupervised and takes a flying leap from the wheelchair (and fortunately on that occasion, missed the spa, but not by much!!)
- The lagoon has head rests in two corners
- If you are the same height as me, those "headrests" are merely serving suggestions as you can sit in any direction in a triangular lagoon. You can even dissect the hypotenuse if you want to!!
And the most important thing I've learnt about lagoons this week....
After half a gin and tonic, it's probably best not to have a quick lagoon-swim because....
....if you're the same height as me, and you have the same alchohol tolerance, you'll have to fill the lagoon up to the top...and float your way out!!
Right, where did I leave my flippers??
Cheers,
L
You are so lucky that I'm not drowned, waterlogged, floating or pruney (as in wrinkled...not purple with a pip in the middle).
You see....
The bathroom in my new house has a lagoon in the middle.
Well, I call it a lagoon. I suspect that Bunnings call it a spa for two, and Shane Warne calls it "woohoo!!!"
Either way, it doesn't matter what you call it, I have a massive triangular bath-like washing vessel in the corner of my bathroom. After a 4 year undergraduate degree, and 2 years of a doctorate, I am qualified to say, "that's not wheelchair friendly". But, in accordance with the theme of my life, "let's give it a red hot go"
Here's some things I've learnt about lagoons since moving to this new house:
- If you don't fill the lagoon above the level of the jets, those jets spray the water at an angle of about 45 degrees into the air.
- If you are the same height as me, reaching over to turn the lagoon bubbles on, your face will be about 45 degrees above the jets...in the air. You do the maths
- If you do fill the lagoon above the level of the jets, it's very deep
- If you are the same height as me, it might be a good idea to wear a life jacket or some type of scuba device
- The best way to relax in the lagoon is to close your eyes
- The worst way to relax in the lagoon is to close your eyes...as that is when Reg-the-circus-dog is unsupervised and takes a flying leap from the wheelchair (and fortunately on that occasion, missed the spa, but not by much!!)
- The lagoon has head rests in two corners
- If you are the same height as me, those "headrests" are merely serving suggestions as you can sit in any direction in a triangular lagoon. You can even dissect the hypotenuse if you want to!!
And the most important thing I've learnt about lagoons this week....
After half a gin and tonic, it's probably best not to have a quick lagoon-swim because....
....if you're the same height as me, and you have the same alchohol tolerance, you'll have to fill the lagoon up to the top...and float your way out!!
Right, where did I leave my flippers??
Cheers,
L
Monday, March 10, 2008
Hot day + deadline = blog
So, where were we up to before we got rudely interrupted....by life?
Reasons I haven't been interrupting your life since November:
- I have a new computer with vista. It shows a tiny slideshow of all my pictures. I keep getting sidetracked reminiscing, and then forget what I've been doing.
- I have a new dog, Reg. I keep getting sidetracked...and picking up 'presents' from the loungeroom floor.
- I'm moving house. I keep getting sidetracked as I try to work out if each of my possessions goes to charity, to the new place, or to the tip.
- I have a new job. I keep getting sidetracked as I try to work out the email system, and wonder where the toilets are.
In summary, for the last 4 months, I kept getting sidetracked. I think I might have dementia.
Now, what was I saying?
Right, Reg then.
Here's a photo of Reg and his 'beloved' 'sister' Lulu
Notice the family resemblance?
Ahh...puppies. They remind you of sunshine, and happy, and the smell of cut grass, and spring, and children, and laughter
......unless, of course......
....you, once again, buy the craziest dog in the litter!!
Now, here is my confession. The breeders brought the soon-to-be Reg and his could-have-been-Reg brother round to my house to see which one Lulu the unhelper dog would tolerate the best.
Soon-to-be-Reg ran round like an idiot. Jumped off the ramp. Took a speccy over a plant for a bone (speccy - aussie football slang. "spectacular mark" ie. a really high jump whilst catching a ball...in tight shorts (NB. Reg did a nude speccy)).
Could-have-been-Reg sat there and watched....then fell over.
Reg is so "lively" that I might sew him a colourful collar......and we're going busking!!!
Cheers,
L
PS. Since Reg's arrival, Lulu the unhelper dog has defaulted to Lulu the good dog. Score!!
It's a hot day. A thesis deadline is looming. How can I distract myself.....
I know. Write a blog!!!!
Reasons I haven't been interrupting your life since November:
- I have a new computer with vista. It shows a tiny slideshow of all my pictures. I keep getting sidetracked reminiscing, and then forget what I've been doing.
- I have a new dog, Reg. I keep getting sidetracked...and picking up 'presents' from the loungeroom floor.
- I'm moving house. I keep getting sidetracked as I try to work out if each of my possessions goes to charity, to the new place, or to the tip.
- I have a new job. I keep getting sidetracked as I try to work out the email system, and wonder where the toilets are.
In summary, for the last 4 months, I kept getting sidetracked. I think I might have dementia.
Now, what was I saying?
Right, Reg then.
Here's a photo of Reg and his 'beloved' 'sister' Lulu
Notice the family resemblance?
Ahh...puppies. They remind you of sunshine, and happy, and the smell of cut grass, and spring, and children, and laughter
......unless, of course......
....you, once again, buy the craziest dog in the litter!!
Now, here is my confession. The breeders brought the soon-to-be Reg and his could-have-been-Reg brother round to my house to see which one Lulu the unhelper dog would tolerate the best.
Soon-to-be-Reg ran round like an idiot. Jumped off the ramp. Took a speccy over a plant for a bone (speccy - aussie football slang. "spectacular mark" ie. a really high jump whilst catching a ball...in tight shorts (NB. Reg did a nude speccy)).
Could-have-been-Reg sat there and watched....then fell over.
Reg is so "lively" that I might sew him a colourful collar......and we're going busking!!!
Cheers,
L
PS. Since Reg's arrival, Lulu the unhelper dog has defaulted to Lulu the good dog. Score!!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Google me a treat
So, some of you may know that I've recently moved this blog over from Myspace. There have been pro's and cons to this move.
Pro's
- Easily accessible, and now anyone can leave comments
- Avoids those myspace weirdo's with wheelchair fetishes
Cons
- Avoids those myspace weirdo's with wheelchair fetishes......or do we?!?!?!
You see, because this site is powered by google, inadvertently typing a phrase from my blog into Google may send you here...with unusual results.
For example, someone searched for "friends are like flowers, beautiful flowers. Friends are like flowers in the garden of life". I'm sure they wanted the rest of the lyrics to that song...but I used it to make fun of something or other.
Then, last week, someone googled "fixing a muffler". Once again, I think they wanted to actually know how to fix a muffler...rather than a narrative of being stuck in the burbs, in a car with an exploding bottom.
Try it now....pick a phrase from a blog, Google it, and see where you go. (If it's somewhere funny, you've got to tell us!!)
Anyway, the point of this story is....someone found my blog by Googling the phrase, "wheelchair chicks".
OK. Back up, Romeo. What the?!?!?!
I just took it upon myself to google that same phrase. Have a turn.
My favourite was the site saying, "Wheelchair chicks are usually ugly, and have short legs". Contrast that with another site that says, "wheelchair chicks are easy cos their legs are always open". Oh my giddy aunt!! (clearly those wheelchair chicks have been drinking gin!!)
Cheers,
L
PS. Oh, if you're that guy that googled "wheelchair chick"...How YOU doin?
Pro's
- Easily accessible, and now anyone can leave comments
- Avoids those myspace weirdo's with wheelchair fetishes
Cons
- Avoids those myspace weirdo's with wheelchair fetishes......or do we?!?!?!
You see, because this site is powered by google, inadvertently typing a phrase from my blog into Google may send you here...with unusual results.
For example, someone searched for "friends are like flowers, beautiful flowers. Friends are like flowers in the garden of life". I'm sure they wanted the rest of the lyrics to that song...but I used it to make fun of something or other.
Then, last week, someone googled "fixing a muffler". Once again, I think they wanted to actually know how to fix a muffler...rather than a narrative of being stuck in the burbs, in a car with an exploding bottom.
Try it now....pick a phrase from a blog, Google it, and see where you go. (If it's somewhere funny, you've got to tell us!!)
Anyway, the point of this story is....someone found my blog by Googling the phrase, "wheelchair chicks".
OK. Back up, Romeo. What the?!?!?!
I just took it upon myself to google that same phrase. Have a turn.
My favourite was the site saying, "Wheelchair chicks are usually ugly, and have short legs". Contrast that with another site that says, "wheelchair chicks are easy cos their legs are always open". Oh my giddy aunt!! (clearly those wheelchair chicks have been drinking gin!!)
Cheers,
L
PS. Oh, if you're that guy that googled "wheelchair chick"...How YOU doin?
Sunday, October 21, 2007
hand-made madness!!
So, it's a beautiful day, and I needed a break from the 23546t3532 essays that I'm writing, so I thought I'd pop off to a local craft market. Unforturnately for me, 3209423572943703 other people also thought they'd pop off to the same market.
The market itself is down in a gully, and all of the parking is on top of ridiculously steep, pot-holed hill. (Yes, I know. At some point I need to have a good long look in the mirror, and ask myself, "what the?!??" "Why don't you just watch some telly and have a lie down?").
But, I thought I'd have a turn anyway. I needed to buy some new plants to sacrifice in the garden - last month's twigs needed replacing!
So, I drove around the carpark for a while, and then took a chance and drove to the bottom of the hill to see if there were any parks there.....and guess what I found:
Yep, even the disabled parking permit was hand-made with 2 lumps of 4x2, by a bloke in his shed.
Do you think these marketeers take this craft stuff a bit too far?
Gotta go. I've just bought some wood, and paint and I'm about to go and get myself my own street of parking!!
Cheers,
L
The market itself is down in a gully, and all of the parking is on top of ridiculously steep, pot-holed hill. (Yes, I know. At some point I need to have a good long look in the mirror, and ask myself, "what the?!??" "Why don't you just watch some telly and have a lie down?").
But, I thought I'd have a turn anyway. I needed to buy some new plants to sacrifice in the garden - last month's twigs needed replacing!
So, I drove around the carpark for a while, and then took a chance and drove to the bottom of the hill to see if there were any parks there.....and guess what I found:
Yep, even the disabled parking permit was hand-made with 2 lumps of 4x2, by a bloke in his shed.
Do you think these marketeers take this craft stuff a bit too far?
Gotta go. I've just bought some wood, and paint and I'm about to go and get myself my own street of parking!!
Cheers,
L
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Nature - why?
Morning,
It's been a while. I've been busy....and technically, I still am busy, but let's just not talk about that for a bit cos I'm a little bit stressed to the eyeballs.
Let's talk about the power of nature, or, at least, my perceptions of the power of nature.
Last year, as some of you know, and many have experienced, I moved to Geelong from kinda-inner-north Melbourne. Geelong had trees, and birds, and flowers, and rainbows (and today, it clearly has more caffeine than my little body can take!!).
So, I moved back, and started communing with nature (fully clothed, of course). That was until.... I was taking the dog for a walk through the park, and a magpie swooped me!!
Who would have thought:
- a bird, outside of the zoo
- flying unrestrained
- and....apparently, birds live in trees!!
Well who knew that? I must watch the discovery channel more often!
And then, yesterday, I was awestruck by the cleverness of nature.
I went to see my naturopath, and accordingly, was feeling at one with the natural world around me. I parked my car under a fig tree (thus creating a nice juxtaposition between the beauty of nature with the ever-conquering, powerful hand of the Daewoo Lanos maker), and looked up to see the most beautiful spider's web I'd ever seen.
I sat, inspired for a while, and even took a photo with my phone.
- It looked like silver thread
- so evenly spaced that it could have been made by a machine
- and draped effortlessly amongst the leaves
- hang on......
- it was all over the tree, not just in that first spot that I noticed.......
It could have been a beautiful illustration of the immensity of nature....or, in actual fact, it was a net to keep the figs from the birds.
So, here's a picture for your brain of what you would see from the receptionists window
- me, put-putting into the carpark in the trusty daewoo
- lifting half a wheelchair out of the car, but then stopping
- seemingly transfixed by the tree
- taking a photo, not of the whole tree, just of a random section
- quizzingly looking at that photo
- then the tree
- reaching up to feel the leaves, and the "spider's web"
- randomly telling the tree to "f@@@ itself"
Yep, nothing for the cause
It's been a while. I've been busy....and technically, I still am busy, but let's just not talk about that for a bit cos I'm a little bit stressed to the eyeballs.
Let's talk about the power of nature, or, at least, my perceptions of the power of nature.
Last year, as some of you know, and many have experienced, I moved to Geelong from kinda-inner-north Melbourne. Geelong had trees, and birds, and flowers, and rainbows (and today, it clearly has more caffeine than my little body can take!!).
So, I moved back, and started communing with nature (fully clothed, of course). That was until.... I was taking the dog for a walk through the park, and a magpie swooped me!!
Who would have thought:
- a bird, outside of the zoo
- flying unrestrained
- and....apparently, birds live in trees!!
Well who knew that? I must watch the discovery channel more often!
And then, yesterday, I was awestruck by the cleverness of nature.
I went to see my naturopath, and accordingly, was feeling at one with the natural world around me. I parked my car under a fig tree (thus creating a nice juxtaposition between the beauty of nature with the ever-conquering, powerful hand of the Daewoo Lanos maker), and looked up to see the most beautiful spider's web I'd ever seen.
I sat, inspired for a while, and even took a photo with my phone.
- It looked like silver thread
- so evenly spaced that it could have been made by a machine
- and draped effortlessly amongst the leaves
- hang on......
- it was all over the tree, not just in that first spot that I noticed.......
It could have been a beautiful illustration of the immensity of nature....or, in actual fact, it was a net to keep the figs from the birds.
So, here's a picture for your brain of what you would see from the receptionists window
- me, put-putting into the carpark in the trusty daewoo
- lifting half a wheelchair out of the car, but then stopping
- seemingly transfixed by the tree
- taking a photo, not of the whole tree, just of a random section
- quizzingly looking at that photo
- then the tree
- reaching up to feel the leaves, and the "spider's web"
- randomly telling the tree to "f@@@ itself"
Yep, nothing for the cause
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Fever of the footy variety
So, it's footy finals time....and almost all of Geelong is decorated (Go the Cats!!).
Almost every shop window is blue and white.
There are huge cat-faces staring at you from every spare bit of wall (that wasn't already graffittied).
Even those of us who think football is for men who are not coordinated enough to use all four limbs at once have jumped on the bandwagon. (Yes, I see the irony of a wheelchair basketballer complaining about using only 2 limbs!!!)(and of "jumping").
And this is all new to me. This is the first time that I've lived in a football-finals-town. We didn't have an AFL team in Ivanhoe. However, we probably had a world-class croquet club, not to mention a kick-ass gymkana and pony circuit!
So, into a brave new world I ventured when, today, I took my research for coffee.
It was all going swimmingly. It's t-shirt weather (well, if you don't mind hypothermia), so I sat outside the cafe, glancing at my research (but really trying to eavesdrop on everyone else's conversation - try it, it's really fun!).
Anyway, my eyes were scanning the page, and then they accidentally wandered to the street.....where I saw a man staring at me from across the road. He was standing beside a 4-wheel drive (apparently Pako St is quite an unstable surface according to the number of Landcruisers in the street), so I could only see his head over the car.
I smiled back, then got on with my work.
A little while later (well, the end of the paragraph that I was reading), I glanced up again, and he was still looking at me.
Once again, I smiled back, then got on with my work.
Half a latte and half a page later, I looked up......and he was still staring at me.
Now, I'm used to being stared at. Intuitively, we'd all think that it's kids that stare, but actually, mostly it's adults that watch me do such rivetting things as get my groceries, put my wheelchair into the car, or have a few bevvies. Kid's are fine, and they usually ask inappropriate, but funny questions. For example....
Cate and I were at a festival once when this little 4 year old boy was staring at me for quite a while. Eventually, he wandered up to me and said, "You have a great bike!".
Where was I up to. Oh yeah.
So this adult had been standing across the road, staring at me for about 10 minutes.
I had gone from politely smiling, to ignoring, but now I had moved to blatantly staring back.
Then.......
- somebody hopped in the car
- and drove away
- to reveal......
.....................................
The rude, impertinent starer was actually a cardboard cutout of Gary Ablett staring at me from a shop window!!
Go the Cats,
Cheers,
L
Almost every shop window is blue and white.
There are huge cat-faces staring at you from every spare bit of wall (that wasn't already graffittied).
Even those of us who think football is for men who are not coordinated enough to use all four limbs at once have jumped on the bandwagon. (Yes, I see the irony of a wheelchair basketballer complaining about using only 2 limbs!!!)(and of "jumping").
And this is all new to me. This is the first time that I've lived in a football-finals-town. We didn't have an AFL team in Ivanhoe. However, we probably had a world-class croquet club, not to mention a kick-ass gymkana and pony circuit!
So, into a brave new world I ventured when, today, I took my research for coffee.
It was all going swimmingly. It's t-shirt weather (well, if you don't mind hypothermia), so I sat outside the cafe, glancing at my research (but really trying to eavesdrop on everyone else's conversation - try it, it's really fun!).
Anyway, my eyes were scanning the page, and then they accidentally wandered to the street.....where I saw a man staring at me from across the road. He was standing beside a 4-wheel drive (apparently Pako St is quite an unstable surface according to the number of Landcruisers in the street), so I could only see his head over the car.
I smiled back, then got on with my work.
A little while later (well, the end of the paragraph that I was reading), I glanced up again, and he was still looking at me.
Once again, I smiled back, then got on with my work.
Half a latte and half a page later, I looked up......and he was still staring at me.
Now, I'm used to being stared at. Intuitively, we'd all think that it's kids that stare, but actually, mostly it's adults that watch me do such rivetting things as get my groceries, put my wheelchair into the car, or have a few bevvies. Kid's are fine, and they usually ask inappropriate, but funny questions. For example....
Cate and I were at a festival once when this little 4 year old boy was staring at me for quite a while. Eventually, he wandered up to me and said, "You have a great bike!".
Where was I up to. Oh yeah.
So this adult had been standing across the road, staring at me for about 10 minutes.
I had gone from politely smiling, to ignoring, but now I had moved to blatantly staring back.
Then.......
- somebody hopped in the car
- and drove away
- to reveal......
.....................................
The rude, impertinent starer was actually a cardboard cutout of Gary Ablett staring at me from a shop window!!
Go the Cats,
Cheers,
L
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Living with a German Shotputter
14 Sep 2007
It's Friday night. Today, I've been in a 6 hour workshop on statistical analysis. I then went to the pub....and now, I'll try channel my witty repartee for your enjoyment. Please beware, this one may get a little blue! (said the bishop to the actress. hahahah)
Anyway, let me share with you this morning's conversation on the train platform, before enough coffee was imbibed.
Here's a picture for your brain...
- A woman running towards me, whom I recognise from school.
- "Lisa?", she says.
- "Fiona?", I reply
- "Oh sorry, Fiona"
- "No, my name's Lisa. Aren't you Fiona?
- "No, I'm Michelle. Who's Fiona?"
- "No, there is no Fiona. I remembered your face, but not your name"
- "No, I'm Michelle not Fiona. But don't worry about it. I've had my hair straightened, so you wouldn't remember my name"
What?!?!?!
I'm sure everyone on that platform was wondering the same question. "Who the heck is Fiona?"
In order to recover from that bit of social interaction, I thought I'd pop the ipod on for the train ride. I'm a bit of a nerd and I download the Health Report from radio national. I like to tune out when the train is so crowded that people are literally sitting on the floor cos all the seats are full.
This morning, the podcast was about female sexuality, specifically the physiology of female orgasms. Useful info. I was paying attention, but not quite taking notes. May have been lost in my own little world....which would account for the next phenomenom.....
The conductor walked over to ask what station I was getting off the train. I was a million miles away, so I was a little startled when he appeared. I took an earphone out to listen to his question. Unfortunately for me, he phrased his question about the ramp quite awkwardly. He said, "which spot would you like the ramp?" To which I replied "G.................................................................................................................... let me think about it"
Subtle, I know. Think I might have got away with it. Except....... my ipod is really new, so I was too flustered to press pause, and just took the earphone out. I flicked it, but it landed on the next passengers shoulder...still playing the information about female ejaculation. I'm pretty sure he heard.....cos he slid further away on his seat!!!
Fortunately the train arrived (oh, that is so Freudian!!!!) and I got to leave my awkward social interactions behind. Next week, I'm gonna wear a disguise....and tell everyone I'm Fiona!
At this point, quite rightly, you may be wondering what a German Shotputter has to do with the blog thusfar. Nothing really.
But here's the next bit.
As you may remember from the last installment, Lulu the unhelper dog has been put on Hormone Replacement Therapy. Let's state a few points here.
1. She is a lady dog
2. She has been put on lady hormones
3. She was already shaped like a German Shotputter, so it's hard to see any differences, but I suspect she would now be suspended from any Olympic or Paralympic competition
4. She was already quite hairy, so, as above
5. However....... we now know that dog HRT turns a placid, (read lazy) lady dog into a fat, hairy humping machine.
Yes people, maybe Lulu the unhelper dog has been listening to the same podcasts as me!
Cheers,
L
N.B. In case you were wondering, I am not claiming any similarities beyond choice of podcasts. Never, ever refer to me as a "fat, hairy humping machine"!! (although, I think I know a few)
It's Friday night. Today, I've been in a 6 hour workshop on statistical analysis. I then went to the pub....and now, I'll try channel my witty repartee for your enjoyment. Please beware, this one may get a little blue! (said the bishop to the actress. hahahah)
Anyway, let me share with you this morning's conversation on the train platform, before enough coffee was imbibed.
Here's a picture for your brain...
- A woman running towards me, whom I recognise from school.
- "Lisa?", she says.
- "Fiona?", I reply
- "Oh sorry, Fiona"
- "No, my name's Lisa. Aren't you Fiona?
- "No, I'm Michelle. Who's Fiona?"
- "No, there is no Fiona. I remembered your face, but not your name"
- "No, I'm Michelle not Fiona. But don't worry about it. I've had my hair straightened, so you wouldn't remember my name"
What?!?!?!
I'm sure everyone on that platform was wondering the same question. "Who the heck is Fiona?"
In order to recover from that bit of social interaction, I thought I'd pop the ipod on for the train ride. I'm a bit of a nerd and I download the Health Report from radio national. I like to tune out when the train is so crowded that people are literally sitting on the floor cos all the seats are full.
This morning, the podcast was about female sexuality, specifically the physiology of female orgasms. Useful info. I was paying attention, but not quite taking notes. May have been lost in my own little world....which would account for the next phenomenom.....
The conductor walked over to ask what station I was getting off the train. I was a million miles away, so I was a little startled when he appeared. I took an earphone out to listen to his question. Unfortunately for me, he phrased his question about the ramp quite awkwardly. He said, "which spot would you like the ramp?" To which I replied "G.................................................................................................................... let me think about it"
Subtle, I know. Think I might have got away with it. Except....... my ipod is really new, so I was too flustered to press pause, and just took the earphone out. I flicked it, but it landed on the next passengers shoulder...still playing the information about female ejaculation. I'm pretty sure he heard.....cos he slid further away on his seat!!!
Fortunately the train arrived (oh, that is so Freudian!!!!) and I got to leave my awkward social interactions behind. Next week, I'm gonna wear a disguise....and tell everyone I'm Fiona!
At this point, quite rightly, you may be wondering what a German Shotputter has to do with the blog thusfar. Nothing really.
But here's the next bit.
As you may remember from the last installment, Lulu the unhelper dog has been put on Hormone Replacement Therapy. Let's state a few points here.
1. She is a lady dog
2. She has been put on lady hormones
3. She was already shaped like a German Shotputter, so it's hard to see any differences, but I suspect she would now be suspended from any Olympic or Paralympic competition
4. She was already quite hairy, so, as above
5. However....... we now know that dog HRT turns a placid, (read lazy) lady dog into a fat, hairy humping machine.
Yes people, maybe Lulu the unhelper dog has been listening to the same podcasts as me!
Cheers,
L
N.B. In case you were wondering, I am not claiming any similarities beyond choice of podcasts. Never, ever refer to me as a "fat, hairy humping machine"!! (although, I think I know a few)
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