another search engine note: I have never written about www.gohip.com and never will. so I don't know why my blog comes up when you search AOL for that URL. I can only assume their computers are slowly going mad. if you want that URL, why don't you just type it into your browser, huh?

just to get this out of my head; I saw an article the other day claiming that meaningless work rituals, like always using the same coffee cup, boost productivity. so far, so OK. but then it said that some huge number of people will insist on using the same toilet stall EVEN IF THEY HAVE TO WAIT!!!
now that, I can't believe. it's just a toilet. what did their parents do wrong when they were getting these people out of nappies?

the weather is normally considered not blog-worthy, but then again, most of you don't live in Melbourne, do you? sunshine, blue skies, driving hail, winds so strong they blow the smoke back down the chimney, bone-chilling cold, scudding fluffy clouds - it's all in a day's work here.
we have a saying in Melbourne : if you don't like the weather, wait a minute.

ok, I've shamelessly listed myself on the Blogger rent-a-quote page. the rave from which my quote is drawn is here

My husband is afraid if people keep coming to my site looking for information about netbroadcaster, I'll get sued. so this is to make it easy for the lawyers

you know that thing where you have so much to do you freeze like a rabbit in the headlights?
I've got that.

so there I was, for the first time in months and months properly riding a motorbike (bringing it home from the workshop doesn't count.)
this bike, a Suzuki GS(x?)500 is twice as big as my old Honda 250, lower but a lot heavier as well. there are subtle differences too, like the lack of a fairing and the way the mirrors move when you move the handlebars, where the old bike had mirrors on the frame.
I did a lap or two of the suburb, sticking to left turns (right turns are my weak point) and eventually got onto the freeway to take it up to 100 (k's, before you freak out).
and as I was toodling along at 105 with nothing between me and the bitumen but a 1/4 inch of leather and my ability to stay upright I realised I was terrified.
Then I remembered that terrified is how you're supposed to be on a motorcycle. anything else is suicidal.

In a funny way it's good that it's been so long. When I first got this bike, it scared me because it seemed so much heavier and to handle differently to the nippy but weak Honda. Now, all I know is that it's a bike and I have to learn to ride it. After 10 years on motorcycles, you'd think I'd be confident. No way. It's like going back to the start - take it easy, do lots of small rides and keep on talking to myself: "turn your head, check your mirrors, countersteer" and sometimes "TAKE YOUR HAND OFF THE CLUTCH AND GIVE IT SOME POWER YOU STUPID BITCH!!!"

one more thought before I forget it; a line from a business article I read this morning; that people who don't change and learn risk becoming caricatures of themselves. which somehow fits with a line from Richard Sennet's excellent The Corrosion of Character, in which he said that change is valued for itself these days, with no clear reason why.
don't know how that feeds into my current work-related existential crisis, but I think it does. change; the whys and hows matter.

I'm pleased to report that this is my first moment at a computer since 5 pm Friday. It's a long weekend here (happy birthday to Her Majesty) and my body/mind have reacted to the very thought of sitting in front of a screen in an unusually negative way.
So we went to the market, shopped for a juicer and tech toys for Andrew, went to the movies (no, that doesn't count as a screen) (Best In Show, great characters, funny, btw), I went for a bike ride, spent many happy hours killing plants in the garden (the more you kill, the better the garden looks. Roses especially are the sado-masochists of the plant world - they'll try to spike you, but if you get past that and cut their arms off, they blush like willing virgins next summer), and we walked the dog a lot.
and now that I'm here on the PC, I've realised again how ANNOYING that whine of the hard drive's cooling fan is. Think I'll go and take my motorbike for a ride - it has spent months in the workshop and we have some getting-to-know-each-other to do.

my latest hot business idea: a weekend away/housecleaning service.
you'd need an apartment or holiday house all set up to deal with at least two kids - spa bath for the parents, lots of videos and toys, meals prepared in the freezer and so on.
then you offer a service where the harried parents can grab their kids on Friday night, go to this place, relax for the weekend and come home on Sunday morning to a clean house. even the most disgusting things - week-old cooking pots, piles of nappies, overflowing bins - would be cleaned up. the dog would be walked and the parents would have half a chance of dealing with their week come Monday.
this idea comes from my lunch with my friend on Friday when she looked at me and said "I just can't cope with it ... I need some time for me ... it's all too rushed" or words to that effect.
Two small kids, full-time work, an ill mother, deadlines... I can't imagine how anyone does cope with it, just with the basic work of getting the laundry done and food on the table, let alone spending enjoyable time with their children and getting some sleep.
And while not a lot of people have the money to pay for regular hired help, maybe from time to time they'd get desperate enough to be willing to pay to walk out of the house, leave the chaos behind and have it halfway-organised when they return.
of course you could only do this if you don't have kids of your own...but it would be a good weekend cash earner idea, especially if you're a clean type and have your own apartment the clients could stay in.

sometimes I just want to go up to her and yell "why don't you EAT something!"
you've seen her. she is thin, thin, thin. not sexy thin or naturally, Asian-style, thin.
her bones stick out from her flesh. if it's at the market, she's buying celery and apples. if it's in a cafe she's sipping herbal tea or plain hot water.
her hair is lank and floppy, her eyes are dead. she's not on drugs. she thinks this looks good. she probably even thinks she could stand to lose a few pounds.
it hurts to look at her.

a day of being pretty good at work has led to me having a blog-surf tonight. it's like floating around a crowd, mind-reading, especially when all the good blogs are updated at least within the last couple of days.
there's a blogger clone with a fairyfloss look at diaryland

searches that may bring you to this blog: On Google "pamela+anderson+theory+media".
on aol: "www.netbroadcaster.com."
the former has something to do with Britney Spears and my joke about using Pammy's name to get traffic.
the second is due to netbroadcaster's shocking mousejacking tactics and a whinge I had a few weeks back about the fact they brushed off my complaint that their site sucked my browser into a mosaic of crappy popup windows
I'm sure neither search is satisfied by this blog.
such is the random wisdom of the Web. so sorry.

so much for not blogging when I'm at work. I nearly made it throught the day.
only two hours after coming back from my week off, I had a headache and sore eyes. this screen is just awful, and I spend far too much time looking at it.
between my essay and my job, both of which involve taking large amounts of not-quite-random data and turning it into a narrative often supported only by writers' tricks, sometimes I feel like a Babelfish.

'lemon tree, very pretty, and the lemon flower is sweet ..."
when we bought our beautiful house a year and a half ago, the big lemon tree in the backyard was covered in fruit - and bugs.
so we had to cut off just about every single leaf and twig and hope it survived.
now, on the fourth day of winter, a sunny warmish winter day at that, I've just noticed bunches of flower buds in amongst the new leaves.
"but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat ..."
tra la la. that makes me happy.

(I was trying to link to a pic of said beautiful house, but for some reason geocities didn't want me to put it up on my site there; and I can't be bothered with all that FTP stuff to get it onto my other site. one day I will rationalise all the bits of me that are spread around cyberspace.)

and because I haven't linked to many blogs lately: this guy is on fire and falling.

oh, nearly forgot to mention: after 15 years of having long, natural coloured hair (bar the odd blonde/red/black highlight or two) yesterday I got it cut to shoulder length and dyed red. I wanted light, Nicole Kidman-red, but I got a kind of dark glossy. well, Andrew has this thing about redheads... and it seemed a good way to farewell the guy who's been cutting my hair for the past 15 years. a 55-year career in the same job! even when it's your own salon, it's still beyond my imagining.

hoot, hoot, hoot: I really do urge you to go and look at the photo of my friend Sparky linked in the previous blog. not for the sporran, but for the list of drag queen names on the left - and for his recent co-star "phil mackavatee".

think about it. say it out loud. blush.

so much to blog, so little time!
we have a new graphics card - but SO has neglected to load any of the games onto my profile, so I can't tell you how great it is.
our neighbours are still trying to build a monstrosity on our boundary. we are still trying to stop them.
our architect still says we can maybe finish our beautiful house by the end of the year. I think he's lying to me.
my essay is not finished, but it's already 150 words over the 2500 word limit, so I'm ready to start adding references that support what I think and cutting out my think-ramblings.
we're going BALLOONING on Sunday morning!!!
the reason this blog is rushed is that I have a massage booked this afternoon. *bliss* and of course that I'm having trouble focussing on any one thing. which my also-Gemini friend Sparky would say is normal.
and last, but not least, Bilbo Baggins is a well-brushed and happy keeshond

the alleged Swenson family