..and i thought that it was the end of a journey i have enjoyed thus far.

at the time of course, that's what i thought, now that i've summoned the power of hindsight..

dark, cold and windy, i never thought i'd ever see a waterfall go back up the mountain, it was indeed beautiful, a spectacle that needed no words, we were stuck in one place, no way forward and no way back.

chess boards, checker boards and fifty two playing cards were permanent residents of this oversized cottage, a conglomeration of cultures, nationalities and odours.

i've forgotten what she found so upsetting, honestly, perhaps the green curry was too runny? too coconutty? the rice was definately too soft, too much water i thought, who cooked the rice again?

then it began, an avalanche of water and gales of wind produced horizontal rain and an ironic waterfall.

it was beautiful.

on the top bunk looking out the window, roof dripping rain, a small window of contemplation.

holy guacamole! they're coming back - act. normal.

ahhh wine country...




....after 4 tasting sessions....

ahhhehahrrrgg wine country....

almost..

i'm almost there.

i saw it again today.

it's not big deal for some but it's a big deal for me.

the dishwasher door is jammed but a complaint is being drafted...

all i know is, rain, hail or shine i'm picking up the keys to me and my bank's spanking new apartment at 4pm friday afternoon.

too bad so sad for me, i'm leaving for the hunter valley saturday morning, at one point i contemplated sleeping at my new place on friday night, no bed, no tv and no food but the carpet's soft enough.

~~~~

it's been awhile, but i still write my entries at work, during work hours. i've told some of you that it's hectic at work, yes it is, but you reach a point after weeks of overtime and weekend work where your brain just fizzles down to a stand still. so you blog.

i could probably write an entry venting about work, but that's boring, so instead i write about writing about venting about work.

creative.

yeah, kinda hurts.

on this dreary sunday, work forces me into the office for a sub-productive seven hours. i cruise home at the speed limit and my mind drifts back to the night before.

i get over to her place early, but i'm told she's out running errands for her family. after several minutes she returns, i make fleeting glances in her direction and before i know it she comes out dressed and looking her usual best.

i think to myself, i'm lucky - no, actually, i'd say i'm fortunate, considering how the year's unfolded thus far.

if you're reading, i'd like to say: hi, hope to see you soon..



~~~~


party.

the place was familiar, likewise the music and the random faces i came across, but speaking to a few people today, we couldn't help but notice the whole feel about it all was a little off centre. what use to be fortnightly dance parties have now simmered down to annual events. perhaps, we're getting old or our idea of a good time has changed somewhat over the course of the past twelve months.

i think i'll go watch some tv now.

hi, can i speak to yui please?

yes speaking.

well, about your strata report, the firm we usually commission don't do strata reports anymore, that's why your strata report is late.

ohh uhh ok, as long as the report is quality, and more importantly, gives me peace of mind, but i don't like that it's taking so long not to mention the vendor's getting impatient, so he's getting his minions to call me every so often. Two Pronged attack!

Two pronged attack?

yeah two pronged attack, late strata report and this Mr King fella with his piece-of-shit-deep-husky-real-estate-agent voice.

oh well, we'll keep you updated about your strata report, talk to you soon.

thanks mate, laters!

----

Buying a place is very daunting, there are so many people you have to deal with and when your hard earned cash is involved it gets a little personal.

My solicitor, he's nice, explains everything to me in fine detail and he feels like my bestest friend in the whole widest world.

On the way home from our first meeting I couldn't help but smile at how helpful this guy is...

but he

HAS

TO

BE

helpful!

HE HAS TO BEEE!!

i'm paying this fool good money. His english is a little broken and he's got what looks like smoke-stained teeth but he sounds like he knows his stuff. He's got a picture of his 6 year old daughter on his desk, so he doesn't have the heart to jack me up, i KNOW what his daughter looks like.

i don't wanna be jacked up.

not long now friends.

update y'all soon.

my brain refuses to absorb.

big problem.

so there's these two guys sitting in a windowless room, for dramatic effect, they sit at a desk with a desklamp.

rob and bob.

rob and bob are good friends, those sorts of friendships that comes once around once in a blue blue moon.

they think of one another as the decent no nonsense straight-shooter type of guy.
bob says to rob, "damn you're as ugly as hell."

rob being the man that he is, cops it on the chin, although he values bob's opinion he knows that 1) beauty is in the eye of the beholder and 2) opinions are different perspectives of thought and judgement.

rob doesn't say anything right away, he goes away and thinks on it.

a few days later in the same windowless room, rob says to bob, "goddamn you bob! why do you say these hurtful things for?"

bob replies, "well rob, as a matter of fact...."

mid sentence a door mystically formed on the wall of this windowless room, both men walk outside onto a vast green meadow they see that the sky is clear and the sun is beaming down with its warm rays. in the distance they see each others home.

rob turns to bob, "you were saying?...."

bob says, "oh yes, as a matter of fact, you're quite a pretty man"

with that, they walked home, together and ate apple pie.

the end.

my blog's been chugging away - struggling to load due to those re-sized but relatively large pictures from new years eve.

this entry ought to push it into the 'to be archived' basket.

now that that's out of the way..

xtn's post about his mother inspired me to tell everyone that i bought my mum wooly ug boots made from the finest sheep skin money can buy - imported directly from big w.

iddy biddy

Some dude crack my jaw with his shoulder and floored me a few times last night in basketball.

I know why.

He got upset when I laughed after sinking a shot.

Wasn’t my fault, a friend of mine pulled a funny face on the sideline.

----------

My car has well and truly bitten the bullet.

Driving down George street like someone just smoke bombed my car, I was getting sideways glances and turned a few heads.

Come on guys, it’s just a camry. (I thought)

I take a quick look in the rear view and I see thick white smoke billowing from the back of my car.

Great.

Just. Fucking. Great.

It's definately Goneski.

----------

A friend of mine was complaining that he was too boring.

What does that really mean though?

I think..

Two things.

One, it’s a difference between those who are more and those who are less experienced in different facets of life. It could be about your travels, you job, everyday encounters etc.

Two, you may have good experiences to talk about, but if you’re an introvert then you’d be less likely to articulate those experiences as opposed to someone that’s extroverted.

Ideally those who are extroverted and well experienced tend to be interesting.

No one's BORN interesting and vice versa.

If you don’t have experiences to draw upon but you’re quick thinking, you can make up crap. A branch off making up your own stories/crap is that you need be a good and consistent story teller. Some writers say that it’s not what you write about, it’s how you write it.

It’s all in the delivery my friends.

back

So, it’s been 3 weeks since returning from New Zealand.

Add a super long weekend to after that.

Then

A birthday shindig.

And you get 5 weeks of good times – memorable at the very least.

I’m not going to bother with a NZ write up, a whole post of “and then’s” isn’t going to be any fun to read so I’ll leave you with a one word description about NZ, simply and truthfully “breathtaking”.

Back to the rat race and some form of normality, maybe.

Perhaps it’s about time to roll up my sleeves and get that place in Ashfield.

Damn I’m lazy.

hello

hello friends,

i've literally been hard at work tying up loose ends before i set off for new zealand for two weeks.

this was going to be an introspective entry but the level of comfort of me doing that here now has gone down a fair bit. these days, everything's in my head, resolved or unresolved it sits there, waiting in long queue to be addressed by my consciousness.

speaking of which, i haven't been one to divulge even half truths on this blasted blog.

it's less than 24 hours before i fly and i'm looking forward to couple of hours at the airport browsing duty free stores and watching other travellers making last minute preparations, wonder where they're going i've thought.

now that i think about it, maybe i should strike up a few conversations while i'm at the international terminal, or maybe i should just announce where i'm going complete with waving arms as i make my way through the waiting area to macdonalds, everyone seems to eat before a flight, perhaps they've been too busy making sure they haven't forgotten bring anything that they've in fact forgotten to EAT! it happens..

perhaps.

see youse in a couple of weeks.

xxx

i wonder how much she get's paid...

but there she was, strutting her stuff.

she looked like a sally.

ten, twenty maybe thirty salivating men of all ages surrounding her whistling and chanting, derogatory almost, but she's used to it. for sally it was just another night at the office, a moving office more often than not referred to as the "client site" by the working population.

sally must get paid well i thought, she was always smiling and performed her various tasks diligently and without a whim, she was very good at her job. for all we know, she might have even have loved her job. if she was only being paid award wages i'd doubt the smile on her face would have lasted for very long.

she had a very big smile, it was so big that it made her eyes look like crescent moons, like female anime characters, she smiled for the entirety of the performance, i'd say a touch over 30 minutes, mostly to the theme song of "bob the builder".

the buck was left unscathed, his pants was still on, except his hairy upper body that was tattered with paintball markings and smothered with thickened cream was for all to see.

earlier, sally had caked the buck's whole upper body with a brandless thickened cream.

sally the stripper had left through a side door, she was still smiling too, some of the guys took turns to shake her hand.i watched from afar as she scurried back into the room to grab her builders helmet that had made her skimpy outfit look like she had actually come from a construction site hence the "bob the builder" theme.

sally must get paid fairly well.

some of maneuvers she performed complete with non-toxic-dishwasher-safe props were, let's just say, interesting, but that's a story for another time preferably when alcoholic beverages are being consumed.