The World According To Me

And I had been for a walk for over an hour, with lots of stops to smell stuff and do wees at every possible opportunity, what would I do when I got home and was all puffed and hot?

I would bloody well sit next to the sprinkler, that's what I'd do.

Oh my lovely Yahoo Bar
I've watched you from afar
Every day at work, you see
I've looked across the road at you, and you've looked right back at me.

It's been a good two years,
since I've stepped inside your door
and ordered from your groovy bar
Until I could drink no more

Alas, last night we broke the drought
We asked for vodka and Mr D's
On a mission to be pissed, there was no doubt
And every few minutes - "3 more please"

I sat upon your fetid couch
Which stank of smoke and sweat
I didn't want the fabric to touch my hair
Close to the edge as I could get

We talked and laughed and smoked and drank
And drank and smoked some more
We observed the tiny denim skirts
On babies playing whore

The other boys and girls were far too young
I felt old in my manner
wanting to tell them to go home to bed
I really am a nanna

And so, this is it oh Yahoo Bar
My lovely dingy friend
At 24 I'm past my prime
Our relationship must end

I will remember you in my heart
Until my days are done
But feeling like I'm 55
Isn't all that fun

Now, anyone got a Neurophen?

But after having a hit on the weekend and changing the way I hold the racquet (you don't even want to know how my old grip was), I'm feeling a little bit better about it all. In addition to the fact that my feet are wholly together, I'm quietly confident that I may, indeed, not make a complete mockery of my firm's reputation.

Bring it on, etc.

Since acquiring my brilliant new mobile (yahuh, it's a flip phone, that's so hott. Note the double 'T' - I believe that makes it hotter) with built-in MP3 player, I have spent a lot of time scouring the net in order to find and download legally purchase some tunes so when I take the poochie for her walks I can listen to music to motivate/occupy/distract me from the mundaneness. Here is my playlist at the moment;

• Chemical Brothers - Galvanize
• Madonna - Hung up
• AC/DC - Thunderstruck
• The Bloodhound Gang - Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo
• Shakira - Don't Bother
• Faithless - Weapons of mass destruction
• Kaiser Chiefs - I predict a riot
• The Dandy Warhols - We used to be friends.
• Kanye West feat. Jamie Foxx - Gold digger
• Gorillaz - Dare
• Beyonce - Check on it
• 50 Cent - In da club
• The Game - Love it or hate it
• Snoop Dogg - Drop it like it's hot
• Chingy - Right Thurr
• Pharrell feat. Gwen Stefani - Can I have it like that.

Now, apart from the inclusion of Shakira, what bothers you about this list? I'll tell you what bothered me when I realised it - the heavy inclusion of gansta rap. WTF am I doing? I'm a middle class white girl living in rural Australia, not a booty shaker from the ghetto. I don't have an affinity with the lyrics (apart from being busted with a cap in the ass by some homies for entering their cripp uninvited, but whatevs), I especially don't like that the music promotes violence and suggests the objectification of women. But I really really do like listening to it when I'm walking. And doing the housework.

It's a mystery.

Walked for with Lucy and Pom last night, we went down and around the lake, and home again. Took us 80 minutes and I was absolutely knackered when I got back. Lucy was hot and bothered also, but alleviated this by plonking herself on the sprinkler, which was very cute. I'll post the photos at a later stage.

Also enrolled for Uni yesterday, which was exciting. Wasn't so excited when I was advised that the course doesn't offer any lectures or tutorials outside of business hours. Holy feck. So I tentatively enrolled in two, literature and psychology, before slinking back into the office and explaining my dilemma. The course requires me to be out of the office for 5 paid hours per week, and I've proposed to make up this time by starting an hour earlier each morning. This works for me of course, because Pom starts work at 6am and so getting up and to the office earlier isn't a problem. In fact, having an entire hour of time without the distraction of the phone or clients is quite a enticing idea, however it is in the hands of the Gods (we call them partners) as to whether they allow it. Really, I can't see why it would pose too much of a problem, but then my thinking isn't entirely unbiased.

Fingers crossed.

Some very exciting news (for me) from yesterday afternoon. I received a call asking for me to come and enrol at University in the Arts degree I'd applied for. YAY! (times one million).

I had begun to despair over not hearing anything from them despite a beautifully constructed and clearly heartfelt application. "Returning to tertiary study" (i.e. "Having another crack at uni because I fucked up the first time") was one of the carefully worded phrases I used. "Was not suited to the intensity of a psychology degree at such a young age" (translated - "I discovered the joy of $1 pots on the Thursday night before an 8am Friday morning statistics tutorial") was another. Anyway, they obviously tolerated my thinly veiled excuses about why I never did get that psych degree and I'm going in on Monday to enrol in my course.

Very, very excited.

Pom was excited for me too, as he's been my sounding wall for the past month about how I wished I could just know if I'd gotten in or not. Just an answer, either way, was all I needed.

At work, my colleagues were pleased for me also. In fact, my boss went and purchased a cake in celebration, which was lovely. Mmmm, cake. There were noises about cracking open a bottle of champagne too, but I vetoed that one quickly having recalled the last time, about 2 weeks ago, when we cracked a bottle of champagne in the office and we were as silly as a wheel by 6.30pm. We are very unrestrained.

Even my mum sounded excited when I rang her, as she knows I've been feeling a bit despondent about….well…almost everything lately. She's pleased I'll have something constructive to focus on. Which I believe actually means "maybe you won't spend so much time and money at the pub anymore".

I think what I'm looking forward to most is having the opportunity to think outside the square again, and actually use the other parts of my brain not labelled "law". And of course, for the first time in many years - I GET TO DO BACK-TO-SCHOOL SHOPPING!

Lordy, I think I'm going to hyperventilate with excitement.

One of our clients took her own life yesterday.

My colleague was walking her dog in the early hours this morning and witnessed a house being burgled.

Another acquaintance's home was robbed last night as they slept.

But on Page 4 of the local rag today, a hard-hitting piece of how Grant Denyer was odds-on favourite to take out this season of Dancing With The Stars.

Thank goodness someone is willing to tackle the important issues faced by this decrepit community.

• Malformed nipples
• Hot lesbian pillowfight
• Amputee sex
• Burns when peeing
• Big boobs
• Itchy rash
• Chicks who want it bad

I'll let you know how it goes.

It's not really a good time for me, personally, right now. I feel flatter than an echidna on the Hume to be honest, and I'm not exactly sure why. Things should be okay for me - new house, lovely boy, work is okay. But for some reason I'm feeling a bit low, a bit teary and a bit desolate. It's probably hormones. I feel like I'm on the precipice of something but I'm just not sure what.

Against my better judgement, we bought steak from here and ate it last night.

It tasted much like this (That's cardboard by the way, just in case my choice in graphics today is especially shit).

Lucy was happy. She got an entire steak. I'm just hoping she doesn't get a bowel obstruction from it.

Your Inner Retro Girl Is

1950s Doll

Do you not just want to furnish her with pats forever?

Does her dodgy winking eye (a feature of the photo only) not melt your heart?

Does she not look like she's smiling at you? You can practically hear her asking you to take her for a walk by the river, whereupon you can both sit down on the bank and watch the sun set. How romantic/weird.

This is my surrogate child, "Lucy". She also responds to "Bella", "Poochie" (only when you say it in a high pitched voice, however) and sometimes "Turdburger" if she's been naughty.

Here are my Top Ten reasons why my dog kicks ass;

• Lucy recognises the words "Pretty girl" and sits down with her neck out so you can pat her when she hears it.
• When you ask her if she wants to go for a walk, she jumps up and down on the spot repeatedly until you get her harness, then sits down and extends her right paw, which is the one needed to get the harness on correctly.
• She loves pig's ears.
• She loves cuddles even more.
• She can do 'sit' 'lay down' 'shake a paw' 'hop in the pool' (her paddling pool) 'roll over' and after you give her a bath 'shake it out' (the water, that is).
• Lucy knows to sit down when we approach a street corner, and won't cross the road until told to.
• She doesn't like the men that I don't like either, and lets them know with a LOT of very tough barking. Before running away and hiding, mind.
• She knows my mum as 'nanna'.
• She follows me around wherever I go.
• When she gets told off, she sits down and emits an audible sigh. Sort of like a dog version of "Hmmpppph". So. Fucking. Cute.

What's not to love? I adore having her back with me. When I had to take her to mum's farm for her extended holiday, it was possibly the most awful thing I've ever had to do. I had packed up all her things into the car. Her metal food bowl, her toys, her kennel, blankets and assorted leads. I took out her harness and the blessed thing thought we were going for a w-a-l-k (If it was a top 11 - I could've added that Lucy knows what you're saying when you spell out the word 'walk' in an attempt to avoid overexcitement). That's when the tears started. So I bundle her into the car (she hates the car) and we drive down to the farm, tears rolling down my face the entire way. Mind you, she loves the farm, so when we pulled up and I let her out, she was more than happy to bound around with Max, play-fighting and competing for attention from my sisters. I honestly couldn't bear to hang around for very long, besides which my mum was getting annoyed at the crying from a fully grown woman. So I gave her biiiiiiiig hugs and told her I loved her, which she didn't fully appreciate because I was distracting her from her potential play-time, then got back into the car and started to drive away. At this point she finally noticed that I was leaving and she wasn't. Her little head cocked to the side and she started to run after the car, wondering why she wasn't going home too. I think that was the exact moment my heart broke, and I tried so hard not to look out of the rear-vision mirror. Of course I couldn't help it and wailed at the sight of her vainly trying to catch up to the car. But I had to keep going. I'm tearing up at the memory of it, writing this. How fucking pox am I.

She settled in very quickly to life on the farm. I had liberal access visits and always bought pig's ears with me to present to her, so as not to let her forget that I loved her and missed her terribly.

But now she's back, and I am so glad for that. Truly, pets are the fucking bees knees. There's something about the unconditional affection that a dog gives, so that when you've got a horrid day you can get home and someone still thinks you're great. When we went to collect her and bring her back to her new home, my mum asked Pom if he was "ready to play second fiddle". Pom was initially somewhat resistant, and Lucy was equally stand-offish to Pom, but he's succumbing to her charms, just as I knew he would.

And that's the way (a-ha a-ha) I like it.