We’re goin’ a Feudin’

worse than this

So it’s war. Little Big Sister and Big Brother are going head to head in a battle of wills in a contest that is shaping up to be bigger than Ben Hur, and I am not even kidding. The past couple of days has been an emotional roller coaster that has no harness, no emergency brakes and a complex network of rails that come to numerous dead ends that will send you flying to your death in a blazing trail of carnival music and cotton candy. Essentially, it is not a good season to be alive if you’re dabbling about in my gene pool. My family tree is about to be hacked down, made into sawdust and shipped to pet stores all over the country to collect mice droppings.

I’m not exactly wanting to hang all our dirty washing all over the blogosphere. The ammunition used by both sides is not PG and thus, unsuitable for publication. Needless to say, my esteemed family is not above the odd low blow and they are coming hard and fast in this death match.

So if I am not at liberty to discuss this online then why oh why am I mentioning it at all? My blogging has been sporadic at best lately, why start with this unsavory bit of family headline? Well Dear Readers, I am doing this because, I am stuck smack bang right in the middle of it. As the only member of my family that is unbiased and coherent at the moment, I have been wrangled into position as impromptu mediator between these warring factions.

Yep, it's this bad

So far there has been no bloodshed (touch wood) but apart from that we are entering into a no holds barred Clash of the Titans and no-one knows just how this chapter is going to end. If anyone happens to be in possession of plate armour please be a chum and send it on over to Mumsy’s house and I’ll be eternally grateful.

In other news, I’ve finally booked my semester one classes. If anyone is interested to know more about them please ask. I didn’t want to bore the rest of you with details.

Well I’m off to try and trick myself into going to sleep. Pleasant dreams 🙂

Moving home

Never enter into a battle of wits with an automated program… you will come off second best. Today I had the happy news that I was offered a place at Griffith University on the Gold Coast studying a Bachelor of Communication. DRINKS ALL AROUND!

Student Concession Prices!! BOOYAH

I was a jubilant character for the next half hour until I decided that I was going to go ahead and enrol in my classes for first semester. You need a flippin’ degree just to sort out your timetable. Two phone a friends, one busted screen and several words that I am not at liberty to publish later and I still have a hole in my schedule… and while I am sure I will need the spare time to catch up on reading or whatever uni students do while not being uni students, I’m thinking that missing an entire subject is probably not a fabulous idea. Tomorrow I will make some very heated phone calls… stay tuned.

In other news… guess who is moving back home. BINGO. I am packing all my worldly possessions, along with my independence and my dignity into several large boxes and moving everything back to Mumsy’s house. That woman should really be in sales because when it came to selling her product (the spare rooms) she really made it hard to say no.

Roughly this is what it looked like:-

Are you tired of bills? Sick of wondering how you’re going to pay your rent? Don’t you just wish that there was some way to avoid all those hassles and just get on with living your life? Well here at Mumsy Inc. we believe that we’ve found the answer to all your problems. Move back home. This charming package comes with the large back bedroom next to the kitchen. The fridge being less than 10 steps from your bedroom door makes midnight snacking times even easier. But that’s not all folks. Move in before the end of the month and we will throw in the main bathroom, the other spare room for a study and all rights to the kitchen. Call now and we’ll waive the curfew and throw in free taxi service.

Clare: SOLD! Where do I sign.

But seriously, Im really going to miss my antics with my housemate. We really do make a lovely team. I am consoled however because I’m thinking of the amazing blog fodder living with Mumsy is going to provide. It’s going to be epic.

So I’m going back to school and back home all in the same month… wish me luck

Dr Who?

Marley who is will now and forever more be known as Housemate (because I can) is something of a fan of Dr Who.

Any who, along with Housemate, I am acquainted with a fair number of people who have joined the ranks of Dr Who fans. Some are more manic than others, but all of them are rather more bonkers than your average person. These acquaintances of mine have, for the last few years, been trying to get me to watch the shows and join with them in manic fandom. I have been resisting, and continue to resist due to the reasons which I am about to list:-

1. I am already strange enough as it is. I am constantly being called ‘quirky’, ‘weird’, ‘odd’, ‘eccentric’ and ‘flipping crazy’ by co-workers, family and strangers on the bus. Dr Who is another of those twist-your-perception type shows and I fear that if I start watching it I will become too weird even for my own company… and I like my own company.

2. Now that Housemate and I are Housemates, I fear that the close quarters that we are sharing may cause us to spontaneously combust. We already share a large fistful of similar interests and hobbies and this would be yet another mutual interest/craze/obsession… I want to be special and unique in my psychotic behaviours.

3. I like my Facebook… and Dr Who has convinced Housemate that Facebook will one day take over the world and so she is boycotting it. I.WILL.NOT.RISK. FACEBOOK.

4. I am a big chicken… and I don’t want to live in fear of small children wearing gas masks, knocking on my door during a air-raid asking me through the mail slot if I am their Mummy. Call me crazy but that is not my idea of a good time.

5. Because I will not conform

Now, Housemate has an annoying gift that can only be described as an uncanny ability to get people to do what she wants them to do. She can Cunning Plan the heck out of just about anything, and as she wants me to watch Dr Who and love it, I suspect that I will cave very shortly… So this may be the last time you hear sense come out of my finger tips… and for that I am very sorry.

It was nice pretending to be normal with you all, save yourselves, stick to The Code.

 

Furnishing Fury

If all my career aspirations come to naught, I can rest easy in the knowledge that I would make a jim dandy furniture removalist.

see my bulging biceps

Sister Dear’s Husband is about to start a new chapter in his career, which involves them relocating in Noosa in a few weeks time. They are planning on renting out their HUGE 5 bedroom house and rent a smaller 3 or 4 bedroom place up closer to his new job. This is all well and good, except now they face the predicament of too much furniture to cram into an itty-bitty house.

When I was living with them up until a few weeks ago, I was using their old bedroom suite which I love, and which I have been missing fiercely since I moved out 2 weeks ago. So when I got a call asking if I wanted to take it off their hands, I was only too happy to agree. Saturday morning saw Housemate toddle off to work and me, armed with a screw driver and an allen key taking apart the futon that I’d been sleeping on. I was doing spiffingly until I got to the actual taking apart when I realised that the tools that I had access to were un suited to doing the job that I was faced with.

harbinger of doom

Not to be foiled by lack of tools, I took apart what I could and then proceeded to try to wriggle the monstrous contraption out of my bedroom, into the bathroom, back into my bedroom, around into Housemate’s bedroom, halfway over the balustrade, back into the bathroom, then finally up on its end, over the balustrade, down the stairs and out the front door all by myself. FUN!

Cue Little Brother and Sister Dear’s Husband arriving with the bedroom suite. Now I don’t brag at having an over abundance of muscle mass. While on the slightly taller side of average and in no way willowy, I am still sadly lacking in anything that can be seen as brawn. So Brother in law who has shoulders like an ox and Little Brother who cycles around the country in his spare time were lovely enough to carry my queen size mattress and the bed base up the stairs and into my room for me. I waited for them to continue with the rest of the furniture until I realised that chivalry was dead and buried and my strapping relations had no intention of taking the rest of the furniture any further than the entryway.

Any sane, muscle lacking female would wait for someone else to get home to help with the carting of heavy furniture upstairs. Not me. If there is something that I want done now, I can’t sit about watching Saturday daytime television while it needs doing. I cart the rest of the bed upstairs, take up my trusty allen key and 45 minutes later, a bedraggled, sweaty and unhappy Clare sits looking at a bed. Phase 1 of bedroom set up is complete.

Clare post-bed building

Next on the agenda is the chest of drawers and the dressing table. I carry the empty drawers up the stairs and pile them haphazardly in the bathtub, then go back for the rest of it. I must say it was not one of my finer moments and I am so thankful that no-one was there to witness my efforts. I grab hold of the end of the bloomin’ thing, shinny it around to the base of the stair case and then sitting on the step above, haul it up a step. Then I shuffle up another step and haul again, and again and again and again, untill I reach the top, over the balustrade and into the bedroom.

The dressing table was not so big as the drawers but sports a whopping big mirror. I managed to wrangle the darn thing off with a screwdriver and a hatchet and then repeated the sit and haul technique untill the dresser was in place as well. Screw what was left of the mirror back on and she’s apples.

After that it was only 20 more trips with odds and ends and bed side tables and I was done. All of this done all on me onesie without leaving any structural damage to either myself, the house or the furniture (excluding the hatchet mirror). I am in a world of hurt at the moment. I can’t move my arms or feel my legs but the next time I see my good for nothing brother and brother-in-law I am going to give them several prickly pieces of my mind. Consider yourselves warned boys.

Adrenalin Junkie

This blog is proudly brought to you from Clare’s NEW HOUSE!!! That’s right dear readers, Clare has officially spread her wings and flown the coop. For the first time in the history of me, I am living with a person who is not a member of my immediate family. HUZZAH!

As it turns out, all my worldly possessions can fit into Marley’s car (affectionately called the Tardis because it’s bigger on the inside) which is both alarming and kinda cool all at the same time. We managed to pack and stack my world from one house into another in the space of one afternoon. Kudos to us.

Along with a new house comes a new bus route. Because she is lovely, Big Brother’s Girlfriend has kindly agreed to give me a lift home everyday, but the morning commute to work is going to be via bus. The first bus ride along a particular route is always a little stressful for me. I usually have a general idea about where the bus is going and where I need to get on and off but there is always that nagging feeling that I am going to miss a stop and end up somewhere where I would rather not be.

This morning was no different. After successfully negotiating the first bus and catching the connecting bus I was sitting there feeling rather smug when I happened to glance out my window. Or at least that was the plan until I saw it. It being a stick insect the size of my head perched to the glass on the outside of my window.

photographic evidence

Hell’s Angels don’t got nothin’ on this bad boy. Here it is, clinging for dear life to a glass window while crazy Bus-Driver-Dude careens down the Mount Lindesay Highway. Facing death with every low-hanging tree on the kerb while its antennae are flapping about in the gale force winds. Oh, did I mention it was raining?

 
It was INSANE!!! I was so stunned by this that I filmed it and posted it for you all to see. Happy viewings:) Sorry the video is sideways… Turns out my phone was upside down…

“When I grow up, I wanna be a stick bug” ~A Bug’s Life