A new quilt and too much other information.

Once again, it's been a while between posts. But the combination of "ergh, I'm so much ache right now I could die, I'd better say my farewells" and "OMG OMG OMG I actually made a quilt" have come together to inspire a post.

Second things first; that's right, quilt! A whole one, pieced top, quilted, bound, everything. Admittedly, it was a fold over the back binding, but whatever, I was rushed. It was for a birthday last Tuesday, though fair's fair she really only wanted to show it off Saturday night, and I made it Friday night so all's well.

It's for Casey, obviously, and tells the gripping tale of a man and his tractors. I'm not sure where he gets these tractors to try and fail to pull up a tree, but maybe there's a prequel panel somewhere out there. It's about 1.3x1.6, and the backing is butcher's twill. Never in the whole of human history has there been a quilt so perfect for someone.

And last night, quilt showing-off night, was Harrow BnS. My first in over 6 months, what with missing Longy with laryngitis and Paruna getting cancelled. We took two virgins (by that I mean people who'd never been to a ball before) and a 5L keg of strawberry cider and about 100 jelly shots. And we drank and danced and ended up funny colours and found boys and new exciting ways to inadvertently injure ourselves.

As a result, I suspect this will be my last ever post*, what with the culmative aches acquired on the weekend all banding together and leaving me convinced I won't survive to the morning. A nasty bruise 3/4 of the way down my spine. Don't know how I got it. Another quite large one on my left leg. A painful, odd looking friction-burn-and-bruise combo on my right elbow that I got by miss-executing a decent down the chain ladder on the playground. And a friction burn on my knee that I got becasue I managed to pick up the only guy there with a swag smaller than mine. But I guess that's what I get for picking up floppy haired emo boys at BnS balls. "But I love them... They're my favourite" I say when anyone warns me against it. Of course, they're not quite as specific as, "Don't do it Sara, he'll have a tiny swag and very long gentleman parts and it will be quite awkward trying to reconcile the two in a sexy sexy manner without injuring either yourself or him" and I kinda think they're worse friends becasue of it.

Real friends will violate the laws of space and time and find this shit out for you and travel back and let you know to hook up with Dreamboat instead, in order to avoid the kinds of aches that follow an evening with a boy still in his teens. But it's okay, I am, for another 48 or so hours at least, still in my early twenties, and can therefore still choose the 19 year olds instead of the 30 year olds.

Even if it's a terrible decision. No matter, I'll be dead soon. Remember me fondly, and raid my stash fairly...

*I am of course, being over-dramatic for comedic effect. When I don't post for another month, it'll be because I'm too busy being an alcoholic and watching sitcoms to post, not because I died from the assorted aches of a debauched last-big-weekend-before-entering-the-mid-twenties booze-and-boys-fest.

I wish so hard that it was real...

So a couple of weeks ago, for reasons that now escape my memory, it came up at work that I knew one of my co-workers credit card details off by heart. Obviously, a couple of the girls at front end immediatelly decided we should use them for something, and an epic international holiday was decided on. Over the course of the rest of the shift, this hypothetical holiday was hashed out, attendees decided apon and dates chosen. There's about ten of us. I say "about" because we have been arbitrarily uninviting and adding people as we see fit.

We left for our hypothetical holiday yesterday morning.

First up is 4 days in New Zealand. We arrived at Mt Hutt last night and spent today skiing. Tomorrow we are going to try snowboarding. Then we are flying to the north island, because I want to visit Hobbiton. That's what we're doing Thursday, and then Thursday afternoon we're doing a tandem bungee jump. Annalise, Emily and I are agreed that this is very important, (so important it may actually become a real life - albeit more local, thing) and we want as many of our co-travellers to join in as possible. Brenton has to, we have decided. It's his credit-card we're using, so that's only fair.

Friday morning we are flying to Hawaii. I picked Hawaii, mainly because Shay was there at the time, and I was jealous. I haven't made any hypothetical plans for Hawaii yet, though I believe it has been decided that we shall learn to surf. I claimed my plan was to start drinking on the plane and not sober up till we landed back in Melbourne. That was before I was quite ill on Sunday, so I have postponed my drinking till we reach Hawaii, at which point, mimosas: come at me. Nonetheless I have hypothetically sourced some lovely south island red wines.

I had though it would be fun to photoshop our faces onto pictures of people standing in the snow but Google has been rudely unforthcoming with the kind of starter images I need for that. If there's something worse than finding out that your plans for a huge international holiday on a friends credit card can't follow through because said card only has a $1000 limit, it's finding out that you can't even fake the holiday in a fun way for facebook.

Actually, no the fact that I'm not actually on the trip of a lifetime right now is worse.

If anyone wants me, I'll be on ebay, buying myself some souvenirs, while I sit here in bed eating crumbed parmesan from the jar...

The BnS Post - Stonerollers 2012

...

(That would be the pause I give when someone asks me how my weekend went.)


Well... (that would be the traditional beginning) It was awesome. I had been a bit worried for the last couple of weeks that a) the weather would be shit and b) that I would have hyped it up a bit too much in my brain, resulting in the inevitable dissapointment.

But, thankfully, wrong on both counts. Saturday morning we left a dreary grey sky'd Adelaide, and we took the curly mountain road (Eagle on the Hill) instead of going through the tunnel, and that was AMAZING. All Caps amazing. Pulling onto the the off-ramp from the freeway, going up the mountain, it got super-foggy. There was NO view. Just white. Curly, twisty roads, up and down hills, white either side of the road and visibility ahead of about 50 metres. It was like living a dream sequence. I considered doing a loop and having a second go, but Casey was driving her car ahead of me, and I wanted to keep convoy. But back on the freeway it all burnt off, and even though it wasn't exactly warm, it was nice in the sun.

There was a pretty big line at the gate, and we all decided that, obviously, we'd start drinking. But I accidentally got one of my strong ciders, and had 3 standard drinks in a half hour... by the time I actually got to pay for my ticket I was dying of indigestion and trying really hard to play it cool. One we were actually in I pulled back a bit, but I kept at it and didn't return to real sobriety till today.

The ball itself consisted of me dirty dancing with as many people as I possibly could and making out with a dozen guys. I stopped my actual alcohol drinking at midnight, which is a good plan if you don't want to wake up with a walking dead hangover, and got on with the all important picking up. I even managed to get about 4 hours of sleep.

Recovery today was almost more bonkers than last night, because I did it all again sober. More overambitious dancing, more boys, and a wet tshirt contest that was very much about the wet and not so much about the tshirts. They'd chopped them down but thankfully my boobs are small enough that they were still covered. No-one else's were, so I kept a shred of dignity by comparison and got my horrible sticky clumpy hair somewhat rinsed out.

We hung about till about 3pm, sitting in the afternoon sun at the campsites after recovery stopped at 1, then we eventually got mustered to go, got KFC and headed home.

Tonight, I faced the biggest challenge of the whole weekend - there wasn't enough hot water left when it came time for me to take my shower.

It was horrible.

Too Much?

How close to the end of a project will you stop? An hour of work left? Half an hour?

Of course, it's hard to know how long something's actually going to take. I have rounded (by about a centimetre) the last corner on the binding. I started it in the middle so there's probably less than 50cm to go, but I'm not sure how long it would actually take. And I'm ready for bed, so it can wait. It's not like I can't do it anywhere, right? Wasn't that the whole point?

Admittedly, I did kinda want to have washed it before I took it to Stonies, not just to (hopefully) crinkle it nicely, but mainly to get rid of the glue residue. When Casey and Jess got here tonight, the first thing they did was whinge that the room smelled a bit funny. I had meant to leave the window open today while I went shopping, but I forgot.

Nice little segue there: Shopping! Today I did a whole lotta op-shops, and thank god for my GPS. Yesterday I got from Parafield (mid north east) to Marion (mid south west) with no GPS, just to prove to myself that I could, but today I happily went wherever it told me too. I had to start in Port Adelaide since Dad needed me to get something for him from there, and I'd worked out a route that got me most of the stores down the west side of the city, all about 10 minutes or less apart. There was one I couldn't find, but I also found two surprise bonus St Vinnies stores and a Red Cross one too.

After 5pm I went to Rundle Mall because late night shopping in the city is on a Friday. And I bought some more stuff. A whole lot of it is basics - a half dozen each of bras, singlets and tees, to go with the four coats I've bought op-shopping, two ballgowns to stash (in January, for a friend's 18th, we're all wearing ballgowns to Dirty Shads, and these were $3 each, so the fact that they're to big for me was irrelevant) two kids rugby jumpers on end of season clearance, two long sleeve tops,  six printed tees, a checked shirt and a white jacket.

And the same shirt dress three times in two colours, because I really like it and it was only $10, and two handbags, and some DVDs, a few fat quarters, and a bit more booze too.

Because, like singlets, socks and fabric, you can never have too much booze.

The Impulsive, Handsewn Holiday Quilt

Last night, while I was watching weird movies, I was bummed that I didn't have anything to do while I was doing that, so today when I was wandering around shopping I tried to keep an eye out for some little crafty thing to do while I was bumming about my motel room. You know, crochet or something.



Instead, I found some pre-pieced fabric on the clearance racks of one of the spotlights for $4 a metre. And there was some coat fabric for $3 a metre. So I got them both (150cm of the pieced stuff, since that was the width of the coat fabric, and 110cm of the coat, since the pieced stuff was narrower) and I picked some woven tape for the binding, since I couldn't find any actual binding in a colour I liked, and anyway, since this'll be going to a BnS ball, I wanted it to be tough.

While caught in the after-school rush hour I thought about it some more, and figured that maybe I should get some spray baste. So I got some of that at the next Spotlight I went to, as well as some Husky fleece as batting. The three fabrics ($6, $3.30 and $5.50) came to less than the price of the spray baste ($15.95)

What does one choose as a soundtrack to getting high on glue fumes in a motel room, on your own, 500km from home?

Well, I went with Chasing Airplanes by Gary Allen, but then, right now, that's my go-to song for pretty much everything. And once it was all glued, I switched to a bit of Dierks Bentley. That's not a band name, that's what the guy's actually called. Also, he totally looks like Waz from The Block last year.

Amazingly, I got it all quilted in 2 1/2 hours, but then, I haven't done an award winning job or anything. Big chunky stitches on the diagonal through every second row. Double thickness variegated brown cotton, if you were wondering. It took me another hour to get a bit under a quarter of the binding done, but once again, the sewing is rubbish.

And then I devoted some time to trying on all the clothes that I bought today. Huzzah for late night shopping in the 'burbs; I managed to get a lot in cause I could keep shopping till 9pm. No pics though, cause I suck at selfies.

Hey Adelaide, it seems like only last week that I... Nevermind...

Today was a beautiful day for a roadtrip: chilly outside but sunny enough that inside the car was quite warm. I loved it. Five hours of listening to music and talking to myself and thinking about stuff and marveling at how pretty it all is.

I got in at about 7 and got myself some tea, and since then I've watched some artsy movies that I'd been meaning to watch for a while, and then I did some more thinking. I had planned on going up to Eagle on the Hill tonight too but the internet is so vague on it and even though my brain is saying that's where you see all the lights from, I can't actually remember, and this motel annoyingly sometimes runs out of carparks, and I don't want to risk it. I might check tomorrow sometime.

Here I go again on my own...

Man, I have got to stay off youtube - that was 5 hours of my life I'll never get back.

Just as well I actually got stuff done during the actual day bit of today. There was the getting the car serviced, and the sorting out more car food, and the repacking of the under-the-seat-box-of-everything, and the repairs on my fur coat.

It's kinda crazy to think I've had my coat for nearly 3 years now. That said, when you look at it, you can kinda see. There's a lot of food dye on it still, and when that bloke at Longy that year put it on he split a lot of the seams at the back and I had to re-sew them, and I kinda lost it between the last time I wore it an now, and it hasn't fared all that well. A lot of the fur at the top of the back was just tearing, so I had to sew it all back together with some old towel (the one I'd cut up to clean some of the food dye off) underneath it to stabalise it, and then I even ended up just cutting out a heap of the weak stuff and filling it in with a patch of the scrap from the faux-fur roof lining of the new ute. It's not quite the same, but since quite a lot of it is still blue, and it's mainly under the collar anyway, I don't think it matters. Also, by the time I'm wearing it, everyone will be shitfaced anyway.

Tomorrow is my second roadtrip in a week. I think I'm keener for this one - afternoon travel, lone-wolfing, CDs instead of radio, my own car, no definite plans. Should be fun.

It's so nice to be home, on my own bed with it's electric blanket, in my own bedroom where I'm not worried about the sound of my typing waking people who actually sleep at night, driving my own car, and having enough powerpoints for all my tech.

And, since I'm warm and happy and content, I may as well break out a couple of whinges.

Why do all the motels in Adelaide make you check out at 10 when nothing opens till 11 on a sunday? I think it should be like how maccas does breakfast till later on a sunday. In my world, motel checkouts would be at least a half hour later on sundays, maybe a full hour. It just makes sense.

Why on earth do people still listen to the radio? I mean, yes, it's a handy way to learn new songs, but if I'm honest, most of those new songs are shit. Even Call Me Maybe, which I adore, is admittedly, lyrically quite weak. And the jingles, oh, the jingles. My travel companions wanted to listen to the actual radio as we were going through the hills, and the stupid ads were so insipid and annoying that I wanted to pull the car over. I lost the will to live, let alone drive. If I'm gunna be stuck in a car for five hours, I want to be feeling pumped, having fun... not listening to a cheesy rhyme about shower screens. And the fizzy sound. kzzzzztch...Really science, it's 2012. Haven't you fixed that yet? I don't want to have to find a new station every 45 minutes, but the fuzz at the edges of range gives me a terrible headache.

Why does Spotlight have their sales on weekends when I've only got 10 minutes to shop? Why can't they have 30% off fabric next thursday and friday, when I can get to a whole lot of stores, instead of popping into one quickly and grabbing a half dozen random fabrics while everyone else looked at baby stuff? (I'll take photos tomorrow, they've pseudo-assimilated into the stash already, so I need to fish them back out)

Why do I get an overwhelming urge to quilt when I'm stuck in a car 300km from my machine, but as soon as I get home I'm like naaaah...

Yawn

It would appear that the two hours of sleep I got last night, or, more to the point, the six hours of sleep I didn't get, have caught up with me. But I did very well to hold up today, I even did half the driving while everyone else slept in the car. I guess I really am that good.

Off, off and away...

Bags are packed, CDs are burning as I type, car foods have been organised and spare batteries charged. And though it probably wont actually work/help, I'm going to try for a couple of hours nap time.

Solo roadtrips, that take off at lunchtime, are much more my thing.

Good Questions.

Why is laundry so much easier when you're dancing badly to the music in your headphones?
Why do I only ever get the urge to tidy my room at 2am?
Why did all these coathangers end up under my bed?
Why do I own so many dresses?
Why do none of them look as fabulous as I want them too?
Where did my boobs go?

I ended up finding my boobs in one particular green dress, after trying on SEVENTEEN other ones. That's right, I had 18 dresses to try on tonight. In my cupboard. There are actual dress shops with less dresses than I have. I didn't even try on my fancy dresses, since I'm trying to get started on my packing for Stonerollers next weekend, and I'm not going to wear one of my good ballgowns to a BnS ball.

It's a bit early, by my standards, to be getting sorted for a ball, but I've got quite a week ahead of me. Thirsty Thursday is off, because in the wee small hours (actually about 6am, but that's still barely medium sized) I've got to go into town so I can get driven to Adelaide. As long as my snoring doesn't wake the baby, I'm allowed to sleep in the car - it's a bridal party trip to the city to look at dresses and flowers and such for Meagan's wedding. Three days in Adelaide, then two days at home, then back to Adelaide for a lone-wolf shopping trip, and then it's Saturday and time to drive down to Murray Bridge for Stonies.

Gah, crazyness. So it's best that I start now: two loads of washing done, dress picked, fur coat found but not yet cleaned. It probably needs to be professionally done, but I think they'd disapprove of the fact that I let it get covered in food dye and then put it in a box in the shed. I only paid $16 for it, so I don't feel all that bad, I just know it's gunna make a mess of me when I go to clean it out. Food dye, even when it's dried in, gets everywhere once you wet it again. I'm usually covered in dye days before I even get to the ball, but with it forecasted to be cold and miserable, I'm gunna need my coat.

whoops.

In hindsight, maybe going out for drinks tonight wasn't the best of ideas...

Actually though, I only had three; I caught up with a friend from high school and we went to the movies, followed by a pub which was horrible, and then we went back to his house to watch a couple of movies. So not so much drunk, more just late...

Driving the empty streets of Adelaide with only the occasional taxi for company was nice though.

When I got back here I took a photo of my haul from today.

It looks a bit random, but there's additions for about 5 different potential quilts I've started bundles for at home. My only rule was to not buy fabrics currently in stock at the local Spotlight.

And I caught up with Shay, and we've planned our zip setting itinerary. Now I just need to sleep for 5 hours :/

Good ol' Rant.

So I'm in my motel room in Adelaide, and the design of the height and angle adjustable shower head here was almost good enough to be my favourite thing this week. Seriously, as a piece of industrial design, I'm kinda in love, and I want one at my house, since ours is old and decrepit.


But really, a shower fixture does not a favourite thing make. Instead, here goes.


I love long drives, singing, loudly and badly, and so intensely that your face starts to hurt. For mile after mile.


I love finding a pace car, and becoming really really attached to it, and having one-sided, long and emotive farewells when it turns off. For the first 100km today, my pace car was a swift, and that was even better, because it was like we were a gang. And then I did see a gang - The Finks were in Tintinara when I drove through and they overtook* me about 100km up the road. And I'm not sure why the government is going through all these hoops trying to outlaw them - in 5 minutes I saw about a dozen road traffic offenses EACH, and that's more demerit points than they have, and once you're out of demerit points, you can't ride your bike any more. Unless it's a push bike. Seriously, the government should hire me. Minister for Obviousness.


I love literally rolling into Adelaide. The last 5km is all downhill.


I love this motel, for its free wi-fi and the fact that the best satay chicken in the world is directly across the road. I could have gotten it twice tonight, but I told myself no. I also love this motel for its shower fixtures.


I love my GPS. It's about 5 years old now but its still great, especially since I only paid about $100 for it new. It's called a "travel companion" too, which fits in well with my habit of anthropomorphising things. I have taught it an epic, round-Adelaide route for tomorrow, so I have time to get everything in.


I love the fact that, with facebook, it's now quite easy to bad-mouth someone that no-one who's reading it has ever met without the incompetent shop assistant ever knowing. It saves embarrassment all round, while letting me get it off my chest. Though if anyone but a teenaged boy had just pushed the scissors along the fabric, shredding the edge in the process, I probably would have leaped over the table and stabbed them with their own scissors. And granted, by putting it on facebook instead of telling it to his face, he'll probably just do it again, but the other woman behind the counter looked like an absolute cow, and I didn't want her going and being all passive aggressive no-one-else-minds at me when she was the one who should have taught him to cut the fabric in the first place.


I, apparently, love ranting about things.


Finally, I love these.

*When I say overtook, I mean my pacetruck and I got surrounded, and they sort of wove in and out of us and the car behind me and the cars coming in the other direction, with about 30cm to spare, and after I had to break suddenly for the third time, I considered just running them down, and charging the government for services rendered.

The good ones.

Even though camping has been fun, it's so nice to be home in my bed, with its electric blanket, in my house, which isn't rocking with every gust of wind. Internet and phone chargers are nice too, but when it's been such a long day, it's the little things, like, um, having an actual toilet*, that matter.

I got up at 7.30 this morning, which, as I'm sure you're aware, is incredibly rare for me. I can even tell you the last time it happened - January 15th, the day after the last BnS ball I attended. That's pretty much the only thing that gets me up early of a morning, the fact that I'm camping. Not that it wasn't a stunningly gorgeous morning - I had woken up briefly as the sun was rising, when a gust of wind had made the annex sound like it was collapsing, to the view of a stunning sunrise out the door, and it was still bright and clear, if a bit windy, when we properly got up.

Barbecue bacon on toast for breakfast was delicious, and then, since the weather was so lovely, we took turns canoeing down the creek: first group capsized less than half way down, second forgot to stop, decided to head for Tasmania and then capsized 20m out to sea, but Kelsey and I soldiered through, arriving dry but on the wrong side of the creek, meaning we had to wade the boat to the side that the ute was on. Still, victory for us.

I took Mum and Kelsey home in the early afternoon and paid Helen a visit, during which time the weather turned, quite badly, with sheeting rain and gale winds. Still, I had promised to take potatoes back down there for tea by 5 and did so, but it was miserable so we huddled in the little van playing Sequence while tea cooked, before moving to one of the big vans for the eating. The roast lamb was incredibly good, but the roast potatoes were a bit burnt.

The rain eased off and we moved back to the fire with some quilts too, and when we started to run out of wood, Carol and I proved our bravery by stealing some from the people in the next campsite, after Dad and Greg chickened out.

It's been quite a while since I've done family camping - we used to do it all the time but it's been pared back mainly to just Easter and Christmas now. And while it can be unpleasant at times (the fact that 3 of the 4 awnings had to be taken down because of the very weather they're meant to shelter us from being a good example) I quite enjoyed this little jaunt, so it can be my Favourite Thing this week.

*Oh, and the fact that if you say shit yeah really quickly it sounds like shit chair; that's a favourite too. Because for a month or so there's been an old chair sitting under a bush across the road from our house, and we decided we should take it down camping with us, to which I said, shit yeah. And guess what we cut a hole in the centre of and put over our dunny hole? The shitchair.

Home Safe

"So", said Brad as they drove back to the ball site from Loxton with their lunch. "What have we learned this BnS?"

"Well," said Sara, "I've learnt that even though people have a tendency to make disparaging comments about my boobies, I can still get a free bottle of vodka if I get them out in front of the promo guys."

"Thats... A very good lesson." said Casey.

I do sometimes wonder if I'm likely to offend people by talking honestly about what happens on my nights out, but really I don't mind. Judge away. I'm quite happy to look myself in the eyes in the mirror, and that's what matters.

Actually, in spite of the little incident discussed above, it was, by my standards, a VERY responsible ball. Had maybe a half dozen drinks, danced till 2am when it finished, made up my swag, read a book on my phone for 15 minutes and went to sleep. Made out with 4 guys, but Rob doesn't count. Came home dry and relatively clean, save for a slight blue smudge on my hands, which I think was more from the old dye on my coat than anything new. Some guy kept coming up to me and asking if he could pour his drink down my dress. I said no and in response to his 'why not?' I told him I'd kick him in the nuts if he did. It's got a very full skirt, so movement's not limited like it would be in something less ballgown-ey.

Today I slept in, meaning I missed the gelly-baff wrestling (thankfully) and in the afternoon we drove the half hour to Loxton for food, fuel and an impromptu swim in the Murray by Case, Brad and some guy called Kiwi. I put my shorts on and lay on the pontoon, trying to get rid of some of the pasty whiteness of my legs. It didn't work. The fast food place at Loxton had the best gravy I've ever eaten, ever, but the chips were a bit overdone.

We left a bit after 5.30 and had the most glorious afternoon driving home, except for Casey needing to chuck up a bit. I am the queen of the 6-stacker-CD-player, making us an epic 8 hour loop that had all the right music at the right times - mellow for when we were easing into the drive up there, stuff to dance like idiots to in the middle, country for arriving at the ball and then a bit of rock and some more mellow for the drive home. It got dark as we stopped in Naracoorte for a sausage roll but that's okay, because we know that part of the road well enough to do it in the dark.

And now we're home safe, Casey has fallen asleep on the couch and I'm going to have an early night.

Take that...

Do you want to hear me rant and rave? I have another blog for that stuff, you'll find the link in the sidebar. I'm pretty much over it now, It's amazing the way some sad music can actually cheer you up. I don't know how it works either, but it may have something to do with the fact that the person in the next room doesn't like this type of music, and I have it at volume just audible to them but not so loud that they can justify getting up to tell me to turn it down. It's a bit petty, but that's what you get for dragging me to Adelaide for a weekend of partying and then not partying with me.

Casey thought I should break out my sewing kit and sew one arm or leg hole on their clothes up, but that would involve sneaking in to get an item of their clothing, and I'm on bed now.
Missy Higgins/Taylor Swift marathon it is then.

good.

As usual, I spent most of today feeling like I was getting nowhere, and then as soon as I felt like I was slowing down stuff suddenly started to be done. I went over my to-do list and I was a bit amazed at how much I could cross off. I forgot to get a strap for the swag and a pillow until it was too late, so that will need to be done in the morning, along with picking up donuts and Holt the Cow from his other mummy. But that's a pretty manageable list.

Anyway, I've come up with a couple of favourites today. The first is being (nearly) ready. As a huge procrastinator and someone who tends to overly prepare getting organised to go away is always a challenge. I wait till the last minute, and then pack too much stuff. Packing too much last night and then downsizing tonight seems to have worked well though, but I suspect that once again I will be taking way too much food.

My other favourite is taking my ideas a little too seriously. I have a tendency to think of something and suddenly do it. My Official Swag Tester lanyards are a perfect example, but so too was my taking up quilting. I don't know how many people got started by saying, right, I'm gunna learn a new craft and create an example of it good enough to enter into a competition in 4 days time. Luckily I had my weeks wrong and it was actually 10 days time, but I would have had it done on the 4th day if I'd had too. I'm much better at getting organised for the things I thought of 15 minutes ago, than things I listed myself on facebook that I would be attending 15 weeks ago.

And some random favourites too:

Saying "Sad face" instead of actually frowning.

Strapping is so much easier than making an actual strap yourself.

Dan Murphies. Way cheaper than IGA liquor, even without giving you Woolies staff discount.

Telling everybody that I "combed my fur coat" and it not being yet another reference to my girly bits, because I have an actual fur coat.

Using my sewing machine for the first time in ages.

My amazing power cable finding abilities.

The fact that I am going to a BnS ball in about 17 hours time.

The fact that my Mum is dropping me off.

(In) decisions

Surely I cannot be the only person who, faced with an imminent two days away from home, has a nervous breakdown based on what to pack?

It started well. In spite of it being cold, and midnight, and therefore dark, I went out to the shed and managed to find, using only the little tiny torch on my keyring, everything I was looking for, except for the container of little torches you put on your keyring. But I have a spare tent, and my fur coat, and my flannelette underskirts, and the old morning after bag (I'm thinking I might make a new one though) and a rotary cutter and a short ruler and Casey's bit of Case-I-H fabric that I need to make into a cushion for her. I found blank DVDs and CDs, and brought the wrong ones inside, but that's okay. I know where they are for tomorrow.

I came back inside, got started on packing, and had to stop when I realised that it's only for one night, I do not need to take 4 pairs of jeans, and chances are high that I will just wear home whatever is in the morning after bag.

The morning after bag is the best. It's a really little bag, that contains jeans, a shirt, socks and jocks. Very handy when what you've taken off the night before was a floor length wedding dress with masses of underskirt, and you've just woken up in the swag of a boy you only met yesterday. You need quick, comfy and practical, and ball gowns are fur coats are not that.

I may make an unlined/uninterfaced version of the gym bag to shove those into to get back to our spot. My shift for tomorrow night has been cancelled, so I have an extra 5 hours in which to do stuff. It will mean another trip to the shed to find the strapping and fabric I need, but I'm getting better at finding stuff now.

All I got made today were the lanyards.

I've made 6, because that's how many wide ends were in the pack of 10 that I bought, the other 4 being narrow, and my having left the narrow ribbon in the car. There's five of us going, and Mum can have one too, so that will do us. I made us a facebook group too, because that's how I roll. I think the only qualifications you need are to be a female swag owner. I know that's a bit discriminatory, but the clauses are somewhat gender specific, and most girls keep their swags in good condition, so they are natural experts on how a swag should be. Depending on how successful these are this weekend, I may have to make quite a few more. I still have to round off the corners on these ones: I cut them with the rotary cutter and they're quite sharp points. Hopefully the corner cutters they have in the scrapbooking section will do the trick.

Life: it happens whether you see it coming or not.

Firstly, I'd like to say I skulled 3 drinks in 30 minutes, so this will be even more rambling than my post about driving.

Secondly. I'd like to thank Kelsey, the Bitchin' Rock Star from Mars, for calling me upon request, and allowing me to escape from Darren, who's English, and thinks Australia is 30 years behind England, and that all immigrants should be shot in the head. Except him, since he's thinking about staying here.

Thirdly, I've written my first ever nice letter on blog #3, go write a letter, to the barman. It too is drunken and rambling, but, if I say so myself, quite sweet.

I've also written a letter to the guy in the beat up Supra. That's the usual mean Sara though.

Soooo...

Um.

Well, first actual bit of blogging is stuff that I forgot. I realised by the time I got into town (I met the 'rents at maccas before I left) that I'd left my frozen bottles of water, meant to keep my esky cold, in the freezer.

Then, shortly after I bought ice at Tailem Bend, I realised I'd left the 3-way 12v splitter in the van of love. I was gunna put 2 GPS devices head to head, and see which one was better*, but instead I stuck with mine, which performed flawlessly in every respect except it took my straight to the Clipsal parking and grandstands when I said I wanted to go to Rundle Mall. I just kept heading in what I thought was the right direction, and it kept on recalculating, and we got there fine.

The other thing I forgot? Um, well, the kinda important save-$40 vouchers that Helen printed out for me. They're at home, in a neat pile with the mail that's for us girls. Bugger. But Helen has forwarded me the email, and the backpacker place appears to have some kind of printing setup, so I should be fine.

Next is the story of my day. The first two and a half hours of the drive kicked arse. I have burned possibly the best beginning-of-roadtrip CD in the whole of human history. But then, right when the roads turn brown, I got bored. I sent Mum some SMS's to that effect, but she was unmoved. Seems it's only okay to be bored if you're in the passenger seat and have some handy movies to watch**

After Tailem Bend I got psyched again. Taylor was having a bit of a strop though The Hills on the way home last tiome we came up, but this time she was great. I even saw a BnS ute, and we were both at Longernong together last year (I didn't recognise it, but it had the sticker). So that was nice. After my GPS took me to see all the Clipsal parking lots and the back of some grandstands, I went to Rundle Mall, the plan being to spend $100 on fabrics at the Spotlight there and use a voucher. I did, and I did, but they're in the car, so no photos tonight, sorry.

I also got myself some lollies (guinea pig poo - I assume they have a real name but they're the little pink pellets from Darryl Lea) and bought some felt chocolate making kits from Morning Glory, which is a toats*** cute shop near the big food court that sells Japanese stuff.

After I found Taylor (it took some time, since where she was parked said level 2 on one side and level 3 on the other (it was level 2) I went to Burnside Food and Wine Noodle Bistro, which has possibly the bestested food in the whole entire world. It's so good, I'm gunna drive home in the dark tomorrow night, so I can have it again. Satay chicken sticks, 3 for $5.90. I'd pay twice, three times that much. They are so freaking good. I ate a double serve of them in the carpark of the Burnside Shopping Plaza, since I had to go there and get myself some coke (and Kelsey some diet coke)

The only bad thing about these satay sticks is you can't eat them while you're driving.

Then it was off to Kelsey to make some felt chocolates. I stayed till about 10, which is after visiting hours, but meh. We're rebels without a clock.

I love her. She's so beautiful. If I could dump the contents of my brain into her, so she could see all the great things I see, I would. I used words tonight, but they aren't quite expressive enough - tomorrow I may try interpretive dance. We talked to Helen on Skype but I forgot to put the movies on her laptop. Must remeber that tomorrow. She made 3 felt chocolates and I made two, but in my defence, I was using felt coconut.

Once I got to Cannon St Backpackers (where I'm staying) I found out that reception had closed at 8.30, despite the fact that the website had allowed me to list my arrival time as 9pm. I figure this was shoddy web programming, and went back to the car to have a look on the internets. It said that if I didn't stay I'd still get charged the $58, and that pissed me off. There's a bar attached to the backpackers, and I formulated this conversation in my mind.

Me: (Asks for  a drink, depending on stock and price)
Bartender: (Gives me drink) Hi, where are you from?
Me: Mount Gambier, down south.
Bartender: So are you here for Clipsal?
Me: No, I'm here to visit my cousin in hospital, but I stayed late there and now I've got here the Backpackers is closed
Bartender: Did you have a booking?
Me: Yes, Sara Hosking. Should be a twin room, with about $58 to pay?
Bartender: Ah yes, Here's the key. $58 please.

And, do you know, it went pretty much excactly like that, except the drinks were passionfruit Cruisers ($4.50 each), The room still had $58.50 to pay and his part was spoken in a Kiwi/Maori accent. Which is all jolly good.

Then, because Kelsey had said she'd buy me $15 worth of Raspberry Twists if I hooked up with a backpacker, I had a couple more, until Darren (insert Duh Duh Duuuh here) started talking to me. Darren seemed quite nice at first, talking about Manchester United (AFL is still a whole week away, so I can overlook, for now) and the ability of a true English breakfast to cure a hangover but annoyingly, it wasn't long before he started talking about how Australia was 30 years behind England (something to do with their economy being better, except they had recession and we didn't, and the fact that out beer is stored in fridges, and theirs is stored in (some kind of hand gesture that apparenly means something 30 years ahead of fridges)) and about how immigrants to England should all be taken out and shot. Except that he'd just talked about emigrating to Australia, but apparenly this is okay because he's really into politics and he did a bit of an engineering degree and he's diesel mechanic. So that makes it okay. I sent a "help - please call me" message to Kelsey and she kindly obliged - I could have faked it but I wanted to share the horror. After all, it was her fault. She's kindly offered $7.50 worth of Raspberry Twist for my efforts. I've accepted.

And now I'm in my room, eating the rest of my chicken and cheese from today in a hope that it will ward off any hangover in a better way than Darren's English breakfast could.



Tomorrow, I get to meet my first "person off the internet" - Shay, I very much hope you don't turn out to be a creepy 50 year old man like everyone expects "people from the internet" to be.


I don't. This is what I think people from the internet are like.

I'm aiming to leave here before ten and head straight to Clovercrest Spotlight (429 Montague Rd, Modbury), or if you wanna do afternoon, message me and let me know.

*in my mind, when you do this, they start talking to each other "No, don't listen to that bitch. It's the third exit. Trust me."
**I hope she reads this.
***toats is a word that gets used a lot in our house - it's short for totally.