Home is Where the Art Is.

And there's my first blogged pun out of the way!

My friend, let's call her The Doc, is a fantastic gift giver. Despite us favouring different design ideas (she's a total retro girl), she unerringly picks presents for me which I always love.

Although we've caught up several times since our respective birthdays, we'd not yet gotten around to doing the gift swap, so when she dropped by on Sunday to come with me to see "The Help" we did the deed.

I gave her a bag of little gifts which I've been periodically adding to when I find something that will tickle her fancy (or her funny bone). The piece de resistance, of course, was a photo by a local artist of a wall of graffiti which stated "EIGHTIES POP SUCKED THE FIRST TIME ROUND." So very The Doc.

And this picture is my present from The Doc. She said that while this girl distressingly appears to have no face (she was nice enough to point out that I in fact do have one, good news!), it still reminded her of me. And she's spot on - it does seem to show me in one of my quieter moments, lost in a book.

At the rate we're going, all of my favourite pieces of art in this apartment will have been gifted to me from her. Not a bad way to go about this whole interior design thing, really!

Lone Wolf.

A friend of mine (self-proclaimed as "The Greatest"), sick of me bitching about never having anyone to go out with, suggested* I follow his lead and do a 'lone wolf'.

I'm quite happy to go to the movies and to dinner by myself, but I wasn't overly thrilled at the idea of going into full blown prowl mode on my lonesome.

But hey, I'm open to suggestion* so here I sit, at The Greatest's local. I suppose it probably would have been a better venture had I headed somewhere the average age of the men wasn't closer to my dad's than mine.

So not a totally unreasonable idea, but needs work.

* The Greatest's idea of a 'suggestion' is essentially daring me by saying he knows I wouldn't have the lady balls to go through with it. My own fault for being so damn predictable/competitive!

It's Always The Quiet Ones.

Reason #26 why it's a smart idea to keep your personal and professional lives separate:

Accidentally letting a juicy, absolutely NSFW tidbit about your past or present slip.. internally panicking..

Then realising that no-one would believe it of you anyway.

If only they knew.

A Non-Apology Apology.

When I was younger writing in my innumerable diaries, I always used to come back with a big apology: "Sorry for not having written for so long".

I'm not sure what it was that made me do that - a remarkable sense of guilt perhaps, or an apology to my little sister who used was my readership, who breached my cunning 'hair placed across the top of the diary' defense to read riveting accounts of how I'd argued with said little sister, or about how the current boy my eight year old self had a mad crush on had looked at me across a crowded grade three classroom?

Perhaps a strange feeling of responsibility, of needing to finish what one starts.

Whatever it was, I'd apologise.

I can't deny that there are some small pieces of that little girl remain.

But.

No apologies this time.

Just - I'm back in my quiet little corner of the blogosphere, this small space that is mine alone. It's nice to be here!

My Kingdom for a Carb.

To kick off the New Year in a healthy fashion, top of my To Do list was to do a detox for a fortnight.

I reasoned that I would have company in my misery as my boyfriend of 3 years, J, would be joining me in my quest, that I would have expert guidance (J's from a family of naturopaths) and that after all, I'd survived an even harder detox of 10 whole weeks less than a year ago and had reaped the benefits.

Essentially, the detox consists of a Thermophase (a powder to assist detoxification) smoothie each morning and vegetables, fruit and lean grilled meat for lunch and dinner. No carbs, no sugar, no fat, no dairy, no caffeine, no alcohol. All in all, an excellent diet to re-boot my body for the coming year.

Six days in, I've had vegetable fritatta made with soy milk only, lots of Thermophase, umpteen pieces of fruit, every vegetable under the sun (or so it feels like) and plenty of plain grilled meat and chicken. I'm proud of having managed to steer completely clear of the junkier foods that would usually tempt me and I can already feel my body getting stronger and healthier.

Except.

Right now, I would sell my soul for a Triple Cheeseburger.

The Wench Speaks.

There's an older man at my place of work, who insists on giving all and sundry nicknames, the origins of which are almost impossible to untangle.


While these nicknames are a vast improvement on the usual ocker-ish nicknames that you hear all the time, I was still baffled at the one that was assigned to me - Wench.

To me the word always conjured up images of a buxom lady of the night. Buxom, at least, is something I am most definitely not.

So I questioned this gentleman (without mentioning the words "busty" or "prostitute") about the reasoning behind my nickname. His answer was succinct:

"Well, you're a redhead."


But of course.

Over the course of my life so far I've met redhead-haters, redhead-lovers, those who mention how in medieval times I'd have been burned as witch, people who've never seen the colour before and were startled by it, witless cretins who are just interested in enquiring if "the rug matches the carpet" - but only occasionally, someone who is totally neutral about my hair colour.

Out of curiosity I tried dyeing my hair on my 27th birthday to a dark brunette, and for the weeks until I gave it up and dyed it red again, I just didn't feel like myself - and not only because I'd not thought to get my eyebrows dyed at the same time (red eyebrows + dark hair is never really a good look on anyone, is it?) There was a stranger in the mirror.


So while some people might exhort me to speak sternly with the gentleman at my work for giving me the "wench" nickname, I'll take it and make it my own.

Redheaded Wench. Now making brain space for more important things (like where I left my car at ShoppingTown) by putting all my odd musings down here.

Ciao for now!