Jul. 7th, 2008

tania: (Statler & Waldorf)
Joe and I spent the weekend up at mum's. She's in the teeny country town of Imbil, half an hour's drive out from Gympie, so it's pretty dead quiet. There's nothing to do, as a matter of fact, but relax. And did we ever!!

First up, mum texted me when we were still on the train with "Sorry, running late - I bought a dog." This reminds me a bit of Joe's mother's recent, "Hi Tani! Quick, come here, we have to make a scarecrow RIGHT NOW!" I maintain that should my mother ever meet Joe's mother - it's been two and a half years and it hasn't happened yet - they will get along great. The universe might also implode.

Anyway, so, mum's tells me she's twenty minutes late due to the aquisition of Dog.

Said Dog is small, white, and basically spherical. It weighs about the same as three marshmallows, leading me to believe that the spherical nature of the beast is an illusion formed by an overabundance of fur, and that if one were to shave the little mop, one might find something akin to a naked mole rat inside. It is a boy.

He has a little bit of a few small yappy varieties all mixed up in his DNA, and happily, those varieties somehow cancelled one another out, leaving a small yet basically serene creature. I don't think he's too bright, but that'll make him a good contrast to mum's existing dog, Bob, who is very intelligent and very neurotic to match.

If Bob is a canine Nami, this new dog is a canine Sawyer, albeit less annoying. His hobbies are Sleeping, Taking Bob's Bones, and Nomming Chins.

Mum initially called him 'Casper' because he sort of glowed an angelic white in the darkness. Her Canadian hippie nurse boyfriend Geoffery vetoe'd this name and said the little dog needed something more manly. We tossed around names and the final pick was one of mine. So Geoff and I take equal blame in the fact that my mother now has two small, girly, fluffy dogs named Bob and Dave.

Joe spent half the weekend with his nose in some sweet Hunter S. Thompson writings, I finished off The God Delusion, we went to the Kenilworth cheese factory and got some homemade ice cream and rawsome cheeses, we pretty much ate food the entire weekend, Joe and I crept off for what can only be termed a Sexy Bushwalk, and we bought some seriously old-school books from the local Red Cross. I got one that was about space exploration, published the year before the moon landing - the paintings of what they think each of the planets will look like are AMAZING. Amazingly WRONG. But still amazing. Joe got Orwell's "Animal Farm". We wound up with six or so books for four dollars.

On the train on the way back there was this partially-deaf mentally disabled woman (who we will henceforth call 'DW') muttering to herself. A chubby teenage girl (who we will call 'TG') sitting across the aisle from her coughed, and DW copied the cough in a really loud, pointed kind of way at her. TG cracked up laughing... and DW lost her shit. She stood up, pointed a knarled finger at TG and shrieked back an imitation of her laughter. TG shut her mouth damn fast, looking scared, and after yelling some abuse at her, DW scooped up her bag of groceries (crisps, and a jar of Nutella, which she was eating with a butter knife) and stormed down to where Joe and I were sitting in relative peace at our end of the carriage.

DW sat down near us and started agressively bitching about TG, and for all that she was tremulously loud she was also nearly unintelligible - this is what gave us the idea that she was quite deaf, as it seemed she couldn't hear her own voice or volume properly. Joe and I uncomfortably kept our gazes out the window so as not to attract the unwanted attention, as she appeared to be bitching TO us.

A few stops later she got off. I confessed to Joe that the mentally disabled make me deeply uncomfortable. I know this is crappy of me, but there it is: I have a lot of trouble feeling comfortable around someone whose actions don't make sense (in a generic and socially-bestowed value of "sense".)

I shall have to confront this someday, I think.

(Also, I swear to god the choice of icon for this entry has nothing to do with that; I just realised I hadn't used it for ages and I love it!)

In other news, the dishwasher has arrived but is not yet plugged in. Susan destroyed my dreams when she told me that contrary to my belief in the mystical powers of dishwashers, they do not clean sticky pans. I'm shedding one perfect, crystalline tear as we speak.

To the half-dozen of you going "aaaahhh!" over the Doctor Who season finale, I'm avoiding your entries like the plague! I haven't seen any of S4 yet and I'm waiting for it to come out on DVD.

To round off the 'D's, I'm planning to save for another trip after the Jenolan Caves - a trip to the dentist! Exciting. ;P My teeth seem fine and dandy, but it's been years since I've been so I'm guessing it's one of those boring grownup things that I should really get around to doing...

Oh, and also! When we got back to Bris on Sunday night, the boy and I grabbed dinner and saw Prince Capsicum (hee) at the El Dorado. I liked it better than the first. :)

ZOMG! Also, we have the car back again! WHEELS, BABY!

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Tania Walker

August 2008

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