I seriously get a kick out of watching Taylor on YouTube. She makes some seriously cool videos with great soundtracks. Oh the inanity of being a highschool/college girl - makes it all the more amusing.

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A shithouse photo turned slightly less shithouse with a handful of actions in Photoshop. Kinda like it now.

If there’s anyone who can assist with setting up Flickr so I can post direct to my blog, it’d be much appreciated. Having trouble with the API Endpoint rigmarole.

• Tim Campbell on Celebrity Singing Bee… Needs to take less speed. Suggest marijuana. Man bounces around like … a very bouncy thing. On speed.
• People who get pissed off that they’ve just missed the train. Hey, even on the odd chance that the trains do run on time (it is Connex, after all), you should generally get there for the time that they’re listed as departing. Please note, they DEPART at the listed time, not arrive. Or at least that’s the theory. (Like I said, Connex - ‘Nuff said.)
• Dermot Brereton’s face. What is UP with that face? Well, his eyebrows are up, specifically. His face slants alarmingly upwards at the temples and his eyebrows have been shaped to within an inch of their lives. He’s gone from burly, boofheaded and not terribly smart footballer, to girly-man on Getaway. THE FUCK?
• My mouth hurts. Hurts hurts hurts. I have a wisdom tooth that’s rotting slowly and painfully and a very sensitive teeth that were actually filled a while ago - but obviously badly because they’ve been ultra sensitive since being filled. Have no sick leave with which to take myself off to hospital to get annoying wisdom teeth whipped out until late September… and do not want to risk mouth infections and problems THAT close to wedding day. No!
• I have a new wart. On the back of my hand. The fuck?! Nooooo! For those of you who may not know, my hands used to look like I had some sort of wood-rot. My fingers looked yucky. Going to have to attack myself with the special “paint” and a scalpel.
• Four months ’til the wedding! (No, I’m not counting down…120 days, 14 hours, 45 minutes…)

IT’S TIGER’S BIRTHDAY TODAY!!!!

Happy Birthday, Tiger!

And no, 34 is not old. *poke*

So my mum turned 55 this weekend. (Happy birthday, Mum!) and I took her to see Mama Mia.

Lots of fun, with more actors tripping out on speed than you can throw an ABBA album at.

Colin Firth, dearheart, light of my life, please… don’t ever sing again. You’re cute and you have a fantastic “wet shirt” moment and you look great in a pair of shorts (no chicken legs for you, petal, nooooo) but singing is not your forte. Stick to narky, bumbling and entirely lovable Englishmen please.

Pierce Brosnan, same for you. Do not EVER sing again. Not even for a joke. And for the sake of all that is holy and good, wax your belly. And lose a couple pounds too because it was just a bit disturbing seeing this furry and somewhat wobbly hairy thing that’s 10 feet tall on a cinema screen.

Meryl Streep… My only thought during the film “HOLY FUCK, MERYL CAN SING!” Why didn’t anyone tell me she could sing? Same goes for Julie Walters - and I loved her bit at the end.

All in all, even though I don’t really like ABBA, Mama Mia! is for all intents and purposes, rather fun. Completely ridiculous but fun. I’m almost sorry I missed seeing the actual musical now.

And new artings… Just a bit of practice with light. I’ve been doing so many scrapbook layouts I’ve sort of forgotten the more intricate part of manipping.

Not as bad as one thinks.

Thought it was about time I did something with some of the holiday snaps I’ve taken since my write-ups of BOTH trips never really came to fruition. I like that my multi-photo panorama worked. Wel, sort of worked anyway.

Gah, so many typos in the Stirling one.  Please ignore them.

I just made one.  I just watched a video clip that’s made me weep like a baby.

Take a look here - read the info and watch the video - if you don’t find yourself even smiling afterwards you have no heart.

You STILL can’t pick your family. I wish that was something that I could fix sometimes.

Just one day, one day in my ENTIRE LIFE, I would really like everything to be about me. I’m not asking for much. Just one single, solitary day where I want things to go my way and for people to do what I want. I don’t even ask that much on my birthdays or engagement anniversaries (all fucking THREE of those).

The one day I want to be perfect is November 29 this year. My wedding day. I’m not a bridezilla or an attention whore but there’s just one day I would like to go well where I can relax and just enjoy it.

My sister is determined to stamp her attitude all over it and fuck it over for me in a way only she can.

If dad doesn’t walk down me down the aisle, she’s not coming. If she can’t wear what she wants to wear (jeans), she’s not coming. If I don’t invite one of HER friends, she’s not coming.

I would love to say “Guess what, bitch? Our father is NOT walking me anywhere, you are NOT allowed to wear jeans and I am NOT inviting one of YOUR friends to MY $9000 reception, and if you don’t like it then you are quite welcome to stay the fuck away!” That would my ultimate answer. I can say that she doesn’t have to come if what I want bugs her so much but the fact still remains that if she doesn’t turn up it will hurt me possibly more than anything has hurt me since my father sent flowers and a pathetic excuse in a card to my engagement party here in Melbourne seven years ago and the day, while I’m sure just about everything else will go mostly to plan, will be shadowed by the fact that she isn’t there with me.

I’m tired of making excuses and exceptions for her behaviour and there’s just one day that I’d love NOT to have to do that but I know if I don’t I’ll still be fucked over a barrel.

Life ain’t ever easy being Ren.

John Paul Young’s teeth disturb me…

Things haven’t changed… I had the misfortune of waking up after a brief kip on the couch this evening to the cringe-inducing tones of JPY singing his decrepit lil’ heart out on Celebrity Singing Bee (gawd was there EVER a more painful show to watch?) and his teeth are still huge and yellow. The man has no gums and and very large, yellow teeth. You’d think with all that money he’d get that fixed.

Pay no attention to that title behind the green curtain.

EDITED SUMMARY: I’m not well.

*sigh*

Anyway, my world is a little bit brighter after today for we ventured into Pahran Market this morning, only to be bitterly disappointed when we realised that it was only selected traders open on Sundays and Monsieur Truffe IS NOT ONE OF THOSE SELECTED TRADERS.

BASTARD!!!

(Continue reading to get your freebie scrapbook page.)

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You were once residents of this lovely house. Actually, you, your mother, your friends who lived illegally in the caravan parked in the driveway and hooked up to the house, the dog you didn’t ask permission to keep, the engine body you kept in the laundry and the no doubt garbage bagfulls of dope from the awesome hydroponic set-up you had going on in the shed, all lived in this house. However, my point is, you no longer live in this house.

Unfortunately, we have been getting mail. And visits from police. And debt collectors.

It was bad enough when you abandoned the property, leaving us to explain to the gas company that, no, we were NOT going to pay your $700 gas bill. That took us about eight months of hassles from the gas company and their hired thugs to sort out.

Then the police dropped by for a visit. “Is Ms Holt here?” they ask. “No,” we say. “How do I know you’re not lying,” Mr Policeman says, “Because we’re telling the truth,” we say. “The lady who lives here is the daughter of the owner of the property,” we say. “Can you prove that,” he says. “We can,” we say, as we whip out licenses. “Are you friends of Ms Holt?” he asks. “No,” we say… and then explain all of the above. “Well, I have a warrant,” Mr Policeman says. “Officially you’re not supposed to read it, but I have to leave it here in case she comes back, so I’m guessing you’ll read it. Throw it away if she doesn’t return in three months,” he says.

We read it. It was chuckle worthy. Ms Holt, you are a moron. And the police also now know that you and yours were growing naughty plants in our backyard.

Now, Mr Allan… tsk tsk tsk. Please let me remind you to pay your phone bill on time. The nice people from Telstra keep sending me overdue notices with lots of late fees. I would call you, since your number is here on the letter, though I find it funny that Telstra have your number and won’t call you to find out your correct address - I mean, SURELY they could look that up on their system and find out where you live. I guess not.

Also, may I take this opportunity, Mr Allan, to remind you that joining the Victorian Ambulance service is very beneficial, say, if one topples over somewhere in Collingwood and ends up being driven to St Vincents Hospital. Fox Symes has sent a letter to let you know that you still owe them about $7000 for that quick ride. Actually, I think they mean business.

Now, Mrs Allan. Sharon. Shazzaaaaaaah… I know you’re thoroughly enjoying spending your Centrelink money (which I know you get because you’re still claiming rent assistance for this place) at the TAB, but I think it’s high time you told Club TAB and Crown Casino that you no longer live here too… unless you think you’re sharing the joys of gambling to which I must respectfully decline as I have enough of my own vices without adding to the pile.

Kind regards,

Ren

Jewellery porn - as in just the naked beads. Mmmmm.

The girls are arranging another gem buy from overseas. I’m all a-twitter and somewhat twitchy. I want stuff.

In particular… sapphires…

Beautiful rare UMBA sapphires… $245 USD for this strand…

And then there’s these sapphires, all 196 carats worth, for a measely $490 USD

Then there are these… gem quality sapphires… a 15.5″ strand of loveliness all for the low, low, completely reasonable, chump change price of $3500 USD (no, that’s not a typo). *sigh*

Fortunately there’s these lush green turquoise rondells which made me go all melty for $72 USD a strand…

Anyone for Champagne… Quartz? These are stunning and pretty much a bargain at $140 USD a strand… I love these round drops, they’re so cool…

And this… Moonstone with some awesome blue flash. This is proper moonstone, not that milky opalite stuff. UGH. $81 USD for the strand. Hmmm.

And of course, my absolute favourite, Labradorite with that amazing blue flash that comes out of nowhere. Slider pendant pieces for $38 USD each…

Sorry guys, this is the sort of stuff that gets me all itchy in the pants. I’ve got a serious bit of shopping to do and I can realistically only afford about $350 worth. *cries*

(More jewellery porn over at migem.com - where the piccies and prices came from.)