…but a bitch ain’t one.

Hey internet! How ARE you?! Have you put on, like, stacks of weight? Oh, don’t be mad. It looks goo- Fine. Huff all you want.

A lot has occurred (if when you read “a lot” you understand that I mean “a series of smallish things that ad up to a reasonably boring sort of life filled with smallish things”) since the posting of the list and also the last decent post I wrote before my very minor laptop related breakdown.

The list posting was a momentous thing for me. I was taking a step towards control of my future, shaping it in the way I wanted it to be, the person I wanted to be. I would be self controlled, my time would be organised and portioned appropriately, I would be able to rationalise my perceived need for things like books and food and other easily purchased goods as momentary spells that I could walk away from into the dawn of a new Carlynne, who would also be fitter, kind of glowing from the inside and probably able to fly. Yeah.

The very first thing I did after I posted the birthday list was to purchase a book, stop walking daily, show no self control whatsoever about what I ate and spend all day every day either writing assignments or deliberately not writing them, all of which equals a big poo on numbers 2, 6, 9 and 10 and on the glowie me who is now limping along, muttering and stuffing her face manically. Great intentions, little shaky on the dismount.

I felt like shit, too. Which is fortunate, because it reminded me why it’s a terrible idea eating whatever I like all the time and not exercising. And going mental. So I stopped.

Also, the book I bought I have already read, so it doesn’t ad to the “need to read list” so I’m calling it a wash, deal? Deal.

Now, invisible reader, if you’ll cast your mind back, you’ll remember a particular piece of  drivel I spewed forth under the guise of whining about not getting a job then attempting to come to terms with it. This being the GOOD JOB that I’d heard about in legends and fairy stories, so that when I didn’t get it I threw a tanty and made a cave in which to dwell, clutching my misery forever to my chest like a balding stuffed rabbit with one eye (before I got over it).

So they rang me back about two months later and gave it to me.

I started the day after I handed my last assignment in and now spend a goodly portion of my week sort of running a drop in centre in Brunswick. I say sort of not as a light batting away of any kind of responsibility, a way of making sure you know, once again, how very average I am, but because it really doesn’t feel yet like I do anything besides hang out with these absolutely gorgeous people and make them coffee occasionally. Ok there was a bit of light batting there, I do more than that, but it really doesn’t feel like work a lot of the time.

The interesting thing about that (or one of many interesting things about that- I have an interesting job now, sorry, punch me if you see me in the street, I’ll be the one looking outrageously fulfilled) is its correspondence with the posting of the list and the implications therein. Allow me to expand..

A- Number 5 on the list is save money. I’m so extraordinarily shit with money it is actually something that scientists should study. It should be a meme. I’m the queen of “but clearly I need this muffin/dress/notebook/stuffed dinosaur and it’s only this once”. One of my spiritual gifts is the ability to justify the spending of any amount of money. It’s true. I think something that helps this is my consistent run of casual jobs that I either don’t get enough work at or just don’t bother going to. Now, I have responsibility which means I’ve got to go, and permanent hours which means budgeting will be a distinct possibility. Nothing saved yet, but I’ve got a good feeling about it.

B- Number 31 is “Figure out how to get around hating on church in general”. This was included because though I don’t go very often on account of I strongly dislike most churches and more importantly the services they run and often organised religion on the whole, I feel like there could be something good there, and sometimes I want to hang with peeps that celebrate the same stuff that I do, that hope for and in the same things*.  So I went and got employed by a church and paid to go to a service twice a month. So there. Forced attendance. Check and mate.

C- My job means I meet all sorts of people, a lot of whom have a lot to say, and all of whom have a place to say it if they want to in the form of my workplace. We provide a room and chairs and coffee and snacks and people can drop on in and chill out and be listened to. This is important and lovely and often difficult, particularly when you are as good at “ooh that reminds me of some shit that happened to ME this one time” as I am. Number 11? Talk less and listen more. Oh yeah. Heaven help me.

D- I think in general, having something regularish to do, while already nearly melting my brain (I am not used to being relied upon, I leave that for those who are helpful in some way. I take care of the pop song lyrics and humour as a defence mechanism side of things. Yep. Got that) will assist greatly in the coming to grips with the important parts of being a grown up. Having people depend on you is a deal. A big one. Also it should help with being kind.

E- The church is a fifteen minute ride from my house, which, while not walking, is … exercise! Yeah.

So though I failed at the list in a kind of epic and immediate way, I’m going to keep at it, because I think good stuff is happening and because, what else have I got to write about, huh? Yeah that’s what I thought.

Ps I ‘ve talked to two strangers thus far, not counting those who come to my work. The first was a spectacular success. Names and witticisms were exchanged, it was lovely. The second was a surly Irishman who didn’t seem to understand why a rando girl was chatting somewhat awkwardly to him on the train home from the U2 concert. She will persevere.

Pps I think that being tired and having your mind occupied with stuff helps with things like “what does every boy/man nearby think of me?” by rendering your brain too busy or fatigued to give a crap, which in turn should help with the “idiotic crushes” disease I’ve been afflicted with for many a year now. More on that later, feeling good about it.

Ppps: U2? Amazing!

Pppps: I did go out dancing once in Nov, which keeps me five by five on the “dancing once a month” front. Cool. Just making sure you know. That’s it now. Good night

*Just so I’m clear, why I would care about church is, that while I don’t believe a specific denomination or group is the right one, or that church attendance is necessary for an individuals journey, or walk or whatever religious speak you want to regurgitate, my life with the creator is something that matters to me, as I believe in Jesus is found the only truly revolutionary way of living and for me, it makes the most sense. I’ve heard church helps sometimes. That is all.

I am a ninja

So I haven’t written much in a little while*, which I know has left my one and a half readers just out of  their minds with worry and withdrawal induced skin picking, but I’ve been busy. Mainly busy with a shite-load of assignments, but also with being

incredibly stealthy and awesome.

Let me tell you a story.

Weekend before last I thought I’d pop over to Adelaide (side bar to state that this is a smallish big deal, as I live in Melbourne and don’t see my friends and fam as much as a good ninja should). So I did. My aim? Surprise the hell out of BOTH my mum and my mate Caz.

Two surprises in one weekend, Carlynne? Surely you jest! No. I don’t.

It took all of my powers of long distance stealth (and a lot of assistance from my ninja cohorts Ms Oz and also my fam who conspire like it ain’t no thang) but I managed to hook it up. My mums took place at my bro’s house where the poor dear was coming to “babysit” straight from work.

She came in to find all of us in there including me and she flat out lost her shit. It was fantastic.

I did Caz’s a little on the fly as a last minute gig (Freakin Clare Bowditch man) came up that NCH (Ninja CoHort) Ms Oz wangled free tickets for (Ms Oz’s band Cheer Advisory Council supported-they wail). Surprise numero two-oh went down in a pub toilet, as all decent ninja activity should. Caz was thrilled (as well as obviously amazed at my ninja-ness) and it was brilliant.

So I had a rockin weekend, psyched that my two Epic Captain Magic Stunts had come off without a hitch. Ninja retired.

But. Little did I know that I would need my super powers once again for an

Epic Captain Magic Hosted Dinner Party

in my driveway that I discovered -by way of a vision- I needed to host.

Firstly, my housemate Kate is both awesome and alive, being that she was born a little over 29 years ago now and has managed to stay… born.

Secondly, I recently read Don Millers A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and became quite enamoured of it (as well as of Don but that’s fairly old news). He talks about our lives being like stories and how if we want memorable moments, maybe we need to make some. I wanted to “make a moment” for someone and I thought “why not for Kate’s birthday, why not in the driveway, why not hats and a dinner party in the driveway for Kate’s birthday”. Bam.

So I gots some crew together, recruited some more NCH’s to lure Kate from the scene (not leaving me with a whole lot of time, but a ninja takes what she is given) and prepared a sort of Mad Hatters Feast and Kate, Kate had no idea a party where she would wear a feathered headdress awaited her in the front of her house when she got home. If you don’t mind me saying, it was totally boss. Yeah.

That’s all for the minute. I’m just going to quietly melt into the night now.

ps post to follow detailing the “moment” I made with my ninja carpentry skills. This particular post was just showin off. Yay!

*I wrote this entry mostly before I wrote the entry about Brook. I think Brook would have liked me being a ninja, so I republished it after, so things don’t seem so gloomy.