How to Mark a Birthday

Today marks a very special day and not just because I turned one year older today. In fact it's a funny way of putting it, because I feel like I just did turn one year older today, you know, for a year I wasn't turning any days older and today - 365 days hit me like that! It was a growing experience.

Quality people are born on and around this day, I would just like to mention I share this birthday with the illustrious poet and blogger TimT and also that I also almost share it with Roald Dahl and my cousin's little daughter, who was born just two days ago. That is, my cousin's little daughter was, Roald Dahl was born a little earlier than that years-wise but on the same day as the little one, in case anyone was a little confused about that.

I'm in good company!

Anyhow, today started out well. For one thing, I slept in. That's a nice way to start a day. Good bout of sleep!

Nextly, I went to visit Mr Coffee, who had got most of the day off work.

I had recently made a bet with Mr Coffee that I could learn basic vi (an editor for programming) methods in the last week or so. I have not won a bet with Mr Coffee yet. The last one he won and I had to buy him a slice of cake at the Citrus cafe in Newtown! And he has been shying away from bets ever since so I couldn't win it back.

But today I proved my basic vi skills and won my cake! That is a VERY good way to have a birthday! CAKE and to get the betting score back in balance ... what more could a girl want?

I had chocolate meringue. It's a good start to the year.

I have read some very nice SMSes and blog comments and emails saying happy birthday ... thank you very much for remembering and saying hello ... and keep reading!

Unfortunately there are some little downers to birthdays. For instance I had to go to my computer classes and it's my annoying lecturer teaching Tuesday class, and he was not being any more competent this class than any other. He told us all that in our last class test the grades were so low in general that they would have to be all scaled up. I don't think he has considered that it could be because he is an incomprehensible teacher and writes rather confusing tests. After all I doubt it is all because we are incompetent dolts - it is a class where you have to be a graduate to make it into the class, and apparently a good proportion of the class has a computing background (though not me).

Still, stuffed full of meringue and with a nice doze-in I feel a very satisfied birthday girl!

Please give generously

The other day I was at home rather late, still in my tracksuit that serves as good nightwear. Not exactly in a see-other-people mood, I'm trying to work on one of my computing assignments and get it in by Father's Day, the deadline. My terminal is labelled "Cygwin Bash Shell" on the shortcut on my laptop, and I sure as hell feel like bashing its shell sometimes when I see those errors pop up.

Anyhow, I hear a knock at the door and I decided to answer it despite my non-people-ish mood. After all, if it's a competition that I wasn't aware I'd entered and I'd just won a year's supply of Nudie Juice or something, it might brighten up my day. And if it were a member of my fa,ily who'd forgotten their keys and I refused to answer, I'd never hear the end of it. Not worth not answering!

So I went to the door, answered, and it was a lady from World Vision who started off on her obviously rehearsed spiel,

"Hi, I'm from World Vision, I don't wish to put a dampener on your day, but a child dies in this world every 3 seconds ..."

She got about as far as "I don't wish to put a dampener on your day" when the first thing I thought was "Is she apologising for coming to the door, because yes, that did put a dampener on my day. I'm in my trakkies turn pjs! And if she didn't want to put a dampener on my day, why did she knock?"

While there may be some people who absolutely jump with joy at the sight of a charity collector aproaching them, I'm not one of them, and I don't know anyone who's confessed it's one of their little happinesses. On the other hand I realise that charity collectors really believe in their causes and want to collect money for them, and they choose something which they know - or a pretty sure - will get a strong emotional reaction. For instance, dying children.

We all feel strongly about dying children. Or people with terminal cancer. Or ... well there are plenty of other things that get us sad, emotional, or angry at the state of the world.

I'm envisioning a new kind of sales approach,

"Hi, I'm Dorothy, I don't wish to put a dampener on your day, but a charity collector harasses someone for money at least every three seconds on average around the world, and I'm sure you'll agree that's totally unacceptable. We've had a wonderful response in relation to that from your neighbours, and if you'll just sign here it's totally tax deductible ..."

You are now blogging with a Learner. Please allow plenty of room.

I got it!

Today, ladies and gentlemen, you are now reading, the blog of a learner driver.

I am proud to say I have passed the driver's knowledge test with 100%, though I did have trouble with them blinkin' amber lights.

The girl next to me was doing the computer test for the full driver's license and didn't pass.

I can say I was mainly spurred on by the knowledge that the RTA would dock me for another $35 should I not pass this go, and such similar incentives shall spur me on further to greater things, I hope.

I am soon to schedule some driver's instruction. I've decided that figuring out how to turn on the ignition would be handy, but it would be also good to figure out which key on my mother's ring is the one to her car. Next, distinguishing brake from accelerator would be a handy lesson.

After that, anything goes.

Please grant me the full extent of your courtesy by edging warily away from me when you see me careering down a road near you. Thank you.

Goodie!

Each year, my Mum makes her Christmas pudding, and this is was my first taste of it today.

Unlike cheesecake, and lemon tarts, and chocolate mousse, which are just plain good, this is tradition, so it must be good.

It means lots of fruit (which is good) and rolled into a cakey mixture and boiled in a towel, so it comes out nice and round. Then it is eaten with ice cream or custard, which is good.

A lot of good heart and effort is put into it.

I am not a big fan of red and green gelatin bits, but Mum cuts down on these and concentrates on the raisins, and nuts, so that is another very good feature.

All in all, while I am not the hugest fan of fruit puddings, Mum does an excellently good job of her Christmas pudding.

Goodio!

Free Trivets!!!!!!!!!

Now that the Borders Books Competition is coming to a close, another store is - or was - giving out freebies!

Woolworths!

If you happen to be something of a trivet fan, I have good news and bad news for you.

The good news:

Yesterday, my mother was hunting for some lovely metal trivets, and she found some strong and rather pretty ones too. With pictures of flowers in them. You can't really beat a metal-tulip trivet, well, not for my mum anyhow. And when she took them to the Woolies checkout they scanned in for $0.00!

I wish this would happen with large canisters of oil and so forth, but a free trivet is a free trivet. Yippee!

The bad news: My mother cleaned out all of the trivets at that Woolies that night. I don't know if there is a crisis-trivet shortage in Australia at the moment, but if so, we're holding them to ransom.

Sorry.

Little Zeno

I just received something that's just like an ipod, only it's cheaper, and smaller. The cheaper makes it a great deal more lovable in my eyes, and I've been jumping about with glee for the past few days. Oh, happy bargain electrical goods! There is never a better day when you can spend a whole lot of money knowing you've given a large corporation more money to do so! I've been ecstatic ever since.

My little object of affection is called a Zen Neeon, or Little Zeno as I call it, partly because I think it sounds cute, but mostly because I'm suffering temporary dyslexia, or somefing.

I'm welcoming my little Zen. It gives me piece of mind.

Happy Birthday Lexicon Harlot!!!!

On this day, long ago - or at least, err hum, some time ago, Lexicon Harlot was born, and the world was not the same ever again. Turmoil. Chaos. Political Protests. Puns. Dog Photo Galleries. Turquoise scarves. Mushroom growing kits. Which is why there is much celebration going on this end of town. I'm in Sydney right now, and Ms Harlot's in Melbourne.

This is time to reflect on Ms Harlot's eminent earlier years. I met her when she was much younger and shorter and actually ate chunky beef bits that weren't made of vegetable, they were made of meat. I also knew her when she had a whole lot more hair.

I remember birthday numero twenty five when a drastic haircut was her celebrarion and she went from long-haired maiden to cropped, and I told her she looked like Young Einstein.

That was rather cruel, but it was even crueller when she soundly beat me at Scrabble that day so I guess we're even.

Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Happy Birthday

Congraduations To Me!

For those who've been wondering where I've been - the one of you (um, mainly me) - I've been basking in the glory of my post-graduation phase. That's right, I've joined the ranks of those who can officially say that they've paid a stupendous amount of money on top of their Uni course and compulsory union fees to have an hour or so poncing about in a black tent and a flat topped hat to celebrate their liberty from librariness and their relief that they've now got to go out into the workforce and contribute most of that to HECS fees for the next few years to justify their existence.

Yippeee for me, I say!

I was told by so many how proud I looked, as I left the stage clutching my testamur. Mostly it was because I had managed not to fall flat on my face wearing those new heels I'd bought for the occasion.

Mr Coffee bought me some purple roses - my fave colour - for the event, to prove that I have a significant audience on my blog, reading my biography. One is a very significant number in quite a few cultures.

Mum got her share in the flowers too - a fair smack - literally. Ready - aim - strike - see photo. After all, my graduation was just before Mother's Day so I had to take advantage of the time before the day where I was obliged to be perfectly nice to her. A lesson I learnt in University is that you should never miss an opportunity. Actually I learnt that in kindy when I really wanted a great book on witches and this girl with a long plait left it alone for a minute while she was fiddling with her hair, but that's another story.

There is a lovely photo of my father and I. He is grimacing - or smiling with his mouth shut, because he's gappy. I tried to sing him the gappy song, but after several verses, I feared for my life. It's a pity because there are so many advantages to being gappy - he can do a great whistle now that he couldn't do before. I'd show the photo but I've been "requested" not to. Usually little Maria here would rebel, but since Dad has developed the gap-toothed temper to go with the tooth, I'll humour him.

Now it looks like I have no excuse to sit around as an unemployed bum, or student, as the polite term may be. Perhaps I'll take up another degree.

Sonata To A Gappy Man; Or, When You're Gappy And You Know It

Recently my Dad had a tooth removed. This has given him a whole new perspective on life, or, has given others a whole new perspective into his mouth. He's kept tight-lipped, literally, on the topic, but it's a life-changing time for him. Mum's softening him and his meals up, but apart from chew really savagely on a large bone with the right front side of his mouth, there isn't a lot he can't do. When you've lost a tooth, you can still do many things - wiggle your hips, say hurrah, stomp your feet, save the environment and I'm sure you could run for PM too. And there's no reason why you shouldn't put passion into it, and broadcast your new life's purpose - or recycled old life's purpose - with music.

Despite Lexicon Harlot's endearing comment, "Music is not Maria's pianoforte", I hope you'll bear with my joyous little ditty writen in celebration of my Dad's missing tooth. You never know, it may become the anthem for the Paralympics one day, and you'll be able to say you sang it here first. Sing along!

Generic Gappy Happy Opening Verse
When you're gappy and you know it, stomp your feet!
When you're gappy and you know it, stomp your feet!
When you're gappy and you know it and you really want to show it,
When you're gappy and you know it, stomp your feet!

Next verse for the Environmentally Aware Gappies, who can do anything
When you're gappy and you know it plant a tree!
When you're gappy and you want to grow it, plant another three,
When you go to the loo, don't flush unless you've done a poo,
When you're gappy and you want to slow it (really slow it) take public transport too!

Next verse for the shopaholic gappies
When you're gappy and you know it, max out your credit card!
When you've got someone else's do it double, c'mon it's not that hard!
Dentures these days cost so much, it's not as if going into debt is difficult as such,
When you're gappy your credit card is your crutch!

Put your gap to use, gappies!
When you're gappy and you know it you can whistle a darn good tune,
When you're gappy and you use it that gap's a boon,
When you make it work to a tee, you'll be whistling do-re-mi delicately,
When you're gappy and disciplined that day'll be soon.

For the sadists out there
When you're gappy and you know it you can make people cry,
When you're gappy and you're sadistic you can curl your lip and look them in the eye,
People get distraught and their faces they all contort,
When you're gappy and you practised you could make them die.

Gappies - the world is your oyster! Be prepared for many more verses ...

Have A Porker of A Chinese New Year!

Out with the Dog, and in with the Pig! Happy Chinese New Year to everyone, and may you all have a very piggy New Year.

By the way, that's all meant to mean good stuff.

We, in the West, unfortunately have some negative assumptions about Chinese symbols. For instance, a recent very scientific poll (I asked some friends plus a few people on my bus) led me to believe that the Snake, Rat and Pig weren't considered as fun and cute and therefore as desirable as say, a Dog. And Dragons weren't cute but fire-breathing properties were highly sought after - I think it's these Northern Europeans in cold climates and their household fireplaces.

On the other hand, people recoil from pigs.

I think George Orwell has a lot to answer for.

Let us focus on some great aspects about pigs.

For one thing, pigs are often depicted as pink. They are not always pink, but they often are. Some are white or brown or white with black spots. In fact, these are actually quite pleasant designs. If I saw pig designer fabrics, they'd probably look pretty neat.

Pigs are often plump, but I haven't heard of a pig with an image problem. We have a lot to learn from pigs. In an age of young girls craving to look like anorexic models, the plump but content pig stereotype is something to marvel at.

Hmmm, piggy banks.

Pig's tails. If you have ever had the pleasure of seeing an excitable pig dance and jump about, its tail curls and wags rather becomingly.

Pigs find truffles.

Bacon actually tastes good.

Ponder the benefits of a pig-filled world, and then cheer in the piggy New Year!

Operation Top Secret: It's Over

Operation Top Secret is officially over. While the operation took place mainly on the 20th, it leaked over into the 21st, and we were still picking up bits and pieces today.

Someone told me this was military style type stuff, I hate to think we did such a bad job of it. Look at how they botched up Iraq.

Thank you, everyone, for not leaking it to my Dad. He was utterly stunned, and he still hasn't come out of his catatonic state. Thanks again, everyone. Better results than expected.

This is one of the most successful things I've done since I managed to beat the sixth-graders at 'Elastics' in Primary School, so I'm feeling very proud. Give me my moment.

Jolly Good Things About Christmas

I am feeling a little bit inadequate, and no, it's got nothing to do with any involvement in games of Strip Scrabble or for that matter, Nude Twister. Though that was a pretty good guess.

Unlike many of the blogs and websites around, I haven't given much of a nod to Christmas in my posting.

I was told as a young 'un if I didn't have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all, which accounted for that rather awkward silence of about four years, mistakenly attributed by my parents to my inadvertent swallowing of a chicken bone, which they didn't really bother about attempting to fish out.

There are some pretty neat things about Christmas.

More fun even than how much fun it is to be a Christmas grinch and go on about cheesy carols and annoying long queues and expensive presents when people are starving in Ethiopia.

In fact, that is a dumb thing to say. There aren't many people who, if they weren't buying a Playstation for their kid, would donate the money to a starving Ethiopian. They would buy the Playstation for themselves. At least Christmas is that great time where Playstations go to children who can't afford them instead of adults who ought to be working and not having any fun.

Also, Christmas carols can lots of fun too. I happen to love Christmas carols, it's just such a pity that when I threaten to sing I can clear a suburb, so I have resigned myself to listening and a bit of toe-tapping and inane smiling. There is a lot of love going around at Christmas, unfortunately carols have decided not to share that love with me.

Christmas food is always a winner too. Each year we slave over the stove and cook a traditional huge hot family roast and a turkey so big I think it might be declared another planet. And then there is the huge pudding and steaming hot custard. Then someone remembers that Christmas in Australia is in summer.

Merry Christmas, everyone!