In the meantime...

Even though I had a fun weekend, it was also incredily long, and I'm soooo glad to be home to my real bed.

Video crack.

Yes, I did have to tidy the end of my bed somewhat to take this picture.

But it's all sewn now (not pressed, but yay progress) even though it didn't get done till after 4am becasue I got distracted by youtube.

Damn you youtube!

Bummer.

I've been in denial about this, but it's time to admit it.

My new doona is really really warm. I'd say it's too warm, but the truth is, it's warm enough. It's all the quilts that are on top of it that are too warm.

So some of the quilts have to go. It's making me a bit sad, because of all the quilts I've already got in storage, and the idea that even more of them are going to go unused is bumming me a bit.

Good thing my bestie's preggers - I hope it's a girl so I can fob dozens of quilts off on it.

Yawn

I think it's nice how the single most tiring thing you can do, more tiring than running a marathon or organising all the vidoe files on three harddrives, is changing a doona cover. Because once you're all done, yay! there's a bed to lie down on.

Not only did I cange my doona cover tonight, I also changed my doona. I had been sleeping underneath two coverlets bought from woolies inside the one quilt cover (and another 7 quilts on top of that, but they're not up for discussion right now) but when we went to the Aldi in Portland there was a quite nice looking doona there so I bought that. It's much lighter and loftier than the previous one (two? in one?) but I like a boofy quilt, so that's good. And all the ones I've made are on top of it giving it plenty of weight. Yay! (and sleep)

A slight delay

It's a "hungover on Saturday" edition of favourite things Friday, cause yesterday was all a bit busy, what with the getting all my hair chopped off, the assembling of garden furniture, and the drinking. Still, I've had a shower and I'm feeling a bit better now. Well, sorta. Perhaps the point of the post is going to be that even when you're feeling shit, there's still good stuff about.

First up is my bed. It's not a particularly fancy bed - I think my parents paid about $200 for it second hand. It's got heaps of stuff on it, since it does take up most of my room, and about 8 quilts, since you've got to use them for something, but more importantly than all that is that it's mine. I don't have to share it with anyone, and when I get too hot on one side, I can move to the other side. Or, more likely, rotate at a 90 degree angle so I'm parallel with the cushions.

A cool breeze through an open window.

A glass of water with ice in it.

Silly string. I bought 4 cans yesterday and put them in Secret Santa, then told Anna what one to go for. Then we attacked people.

Skinny jeans. When other outfit-related decisions fail, go with skinny jeans.

Power tools. Wielding a cordless drill just makes me happy.

600th post. Wowee.

Scratching the dandruff out of your eyebrows and pretending it's a white christmas.

Warm fluffy towels. Pink ones.

Buying some really gorgeous 5 inch heels and not wearing them. If you wear them, you hate them, but while they're just sitting on your shelf, being pretty, they're quite enjoyable.

KFC potato and gravy. I still know of no better hangover food.

Ergh

I slept till 5 today. It was really really nice. And then I had to work, and it was nice how all of my colleagues came and told me how terrible I looked. And I'm not saying that in a sarcastic way - it just means that if I'm still feeling crappy tomorrow, when I call in sick everybody will be like "Oh, I'm not surprised, she was looking horrible last night" and I can spend the day in bed feeling miserable and reading a book.

Ow.

I can't walk. I can't sit down. I can't bend over. It's horrible.

Yesterday morning my parents went and got a couple of loads of firewood. Which means yesterday afternoon we had to unload a couple of loads of firewood. And since everyone else is scared of any height more than two foot above ground, I was the one on the back of the ute picking the bits up and passing them on. 45 solid minutes of lunging one way to pick up a log, and then lunging the other to pass it to Dad at the other end. And today, my thighs don't work. They just burn.

I had been thinking about doing some work on the Snack quilt. But that would involve walking, and sitting down, and bending over, and, worst of all, squatting. I don't have a design board, I have the lounge room floor. So quilting is out of the question.

To bed for a Bejewelled marathon it is then...

I've just had a horrible realisation...

2am when I've just gotten home from the pub always seems like the perfect time to start sewing. Enough of my brain though knows it isn't, so it sits kneeling in front of the fire with some of the more mellow Joe Nichols songs playing on the laptop until my skinny jeans cut off the circulation to my legs below the knees and then it's a struggle to get to the bedroom let alone sew. Still, it amuses me even when I'm sober - the sensation of not having a foot, not the shooting pains later on. But they pass quickly, and are worth the amusement factor. Bodies are so interesting aren't they?

Anyway, I actually only had two. I wasn't really feeling it - it was after work and I'm dealing with two besties with boyfriend issues. Maybe I would have been more keen if I had finished my bag this afternoon - I decided that I absolutely needed a special bag to only hold my essentials at the pub, with a single long strap. I altered my go-to box bag pattern to be tiny and have a flap covering, managed to re-thread an invisible zipper so it opened from both directions (I've been unable to do this for so long I was actually starting to think maybe you couldn't) because I couldn't find two pulls for a regular zip, did the outside and the magnets and the lining and got to the bit where you sew up the ends before I had to go to work. I hate it when that happens. but instead of finishing it off (there's maybe 45 minutes of sewing left to do) I'm gunna be responsible and wait till some other day. Because tomorrow, I have to get up IN THE MORNING!

Gah, 12 noon starts! How do people put up with this crap? I don't know...

dot dot dot comma question mark

My room is painted and I just re-hung my curtains all by myself. Alas, still no bed or sewing machine, but tonight should be my last night in my swag till Stonerollers BnS on Saturday. And even then, a girl can hope for a sea of invites to other swags, preferably the kind containing hot, naked cowboys. I'm getting sick of my swag, and it's distinct lack of hot naked cowboys.

Tonight I should have many many trippy and interesting dreams, sleeping as I am in a room full of paint fumes. Obviously, my anosmic little self can't actually smell them, but I've already decided to attribute my complete inability to type to them. Is that a known side effect of inhaling paint fumes? Typos? Well, it is now.

Wading through the typos, I have written up the instructions to make a gym bag like mine. But I have no sewing machine to make another bag to take the accompanying photos. Or, if I'm honest, any time to make the bag to take the accompanying photos. Three 9 hour days, then a short day during which I also have to clean out and pack my car, find my clothes including the ball gown and the fur coat in the sea of tubs in the shed, get my legs done* sort out food and grog, charge up all the phones and the laptops and the cameras and the walkie talkies, get petrol and wash my hair.

Just as well my swag's been checked out then, isn't it? I don't even know when I'm gunna find time to scratch.

*according to the girls at work, referring to my beaver as "free range" is one of the funniest things I have ever said. Actually, it might be one of the funniest things anyone's said, ever, according to one of them, but I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just because it's the complete opposite end of the spectrum - indeed, I cant think of anything less funny than having all the hairs on my vajayjay ripped out. And it's one less thing to have to worry about getting done.

Viva la Revolución

My mother has decided we can wait till my room has been painted to put my furniture back in here. Granted, it hasn't been painted in the 17 years since it got a lick of light grey undercoat, but oh well. I like light grey undercoat, but apparently, after 17 years, it must be "under"

In retaliation, I have chosen a slightly darker shade of grey as my paint choice. I've also decided, in lieu of sleeping in yet another bed I don't like, to bring in my swag.

And my flop chair. And a powerboard, for the essentials. Mum hid the router behind the curtain, for reasons that aren't immediately apparent.

As far as a quarter life rebellion goes, it's not much. I still don't have a sewing machine either, which is especially annoying considering I'm filled with a near overwhelming urge to get the two part-done bags finished, and start on a third (which I will need to find the fabric for - it being in a tub somewhere) but at midnight on a Sunday night, after a busy 9 hour day, it's the best I can muster.


Viva la Revolución? No thanks, I want my real bed back.

Losing it.

Mum has decided we will get these carpets properly cleaned before we put the furniture back in, so yet again I'm without a bed. Well, that's a lie, I'm sharing Maddy's bed with Casey, and she snores like a freight train. Or sometimes like a chainsaw. One time it was like a motorbike. But you get the idea. Last night, to combat it, I stayed up till about 4am safe in the knowledge that I would be so tired I would fall asleep in spite of the noise, and I could sleep in once she'd gone to work at 7. But tomorrow I start work at 12, which is late by anyone's standards, except of course mine. Or those of the nightfill boys. Some might say the nightfill boys have no standards, and they wouldn't be too far wrong.

Because I'm working all afternoon and most of the evening tomorrow, I just have to hope that some nice parent or sibling puts my bed back while I am at work. I'm losing it without my bed.

I miss you, bed.

My favourite thing today is my bed. And annoyingly, it's one of those "don't miss it till it's gone" favourites. See, tomorrow (in about 7 hours, actually) a man is coming to put in some new carpet in my bedroom. Since it's nearly 1am now, that means he'll be getting here at 8am, and since I don't really wake up till lunchtime normally, that posed a bit of a problem, rectified of course by moving my bed out to the bar in little (well, actually quite big, really) pieces, and me sleeping in my sister's room. But for me, my bed is not just for sleeping on. As a queen sized bed in a quite small and full room, most of my living takes place on the bed. I use my laptop on the bed, design bags and quilts on the bed. Watch movies on the bed, eat snacks on the bed, read books on the bed. My bed is my place. And while I may have carped on a bit a few weeks ago about how your watch or your handbag says something about you, there is nothing more in tune with a person than a single gal's bed. I'd make a conservative guess that I spend fully half my time on that 2m², and it fits me perfectly, from the little dent I've made in the mattress to the exact weight of the quilts (a polyester quilt and a comforter that came from lincraft ages ago inside the one eiderdown cover, and 4 of my quilts on top of that) that I like. Also, my tendency to wake up at a 90° angle to what I went to sleep at, stretched full length along the pillows. My cushion that I cuddle, as well as Mo the Sheep, Alex the Monster and Eleanor the Elephant. And of course my electric blanket. I really really love that.

Other things I love right now:

Ventalin.
KFC Potato and Gravy.
Cadbury Fingers.
External harddrives.
Facebook chat and messages being the same thing now.
Barrette hair clips.
Jeans day at work.
Chocolate Mudcakes.
Putting a bandaid on a broken nail when you can't find a nailfile.
Laminators.
Dragging new tabs to the tab bar in Firefox.
Playing Bejeweled on a touchscreen.
Bundy White Lemon and Lime.