My name is EnnyPen, and I'm a mess-a-holic....

You may not have been able to guage it from my style, but I'm not well known for my 'tidiness'. The Hun has tried a few methods to correct this - he left me a note when I came back from Martial Arts camp mentioning that he thinks he saw something move in my 'dressing room', he's told me I'm to messy to ever be wife, and he's threatened to post pics of it on my blog. Because I'm competitive when I can be stuffed to be, I decided to post it myself.

And THEN, as an attempt to make it more interesting for myself (I have a tendency of starting things and then NEVAH finishing) I decided to capture it for the masses and blog it.

Aren't you lucky little kittens?

Let the games begin!

This is my room from the doorway:

You cannot see the floor. I'd like to maintain that in my head there are groupings of clean and messy clothes, but you mere mortals proddly can't tell...

To make it easier, I like to do portions. This is the desk portion:

You can see how high tech my old computer was by the free stickers that are all over it....

But now, ta-dah!!:

Now my signed Barry Williams poster is given the prominence it deserves! I met him, you know - I also got two photos taken with him in my buddys camera phone, but he must've been totally intimidated coz they were all shaky and didn't turn out and B to the Wizzo was soooo snappy that we were too scared to ask for him to pose AGAIN. I also didn't have to pay the ripoff $70 for the dinner and show at the Southo, but got to waltz in just at the end, escorted by the one-armed doorman! *SNAP* total celebrity!!!

Next Portion: Next to the mirror:

Um, this is still from this trip... I'm not a very 'quick' unpacker, shall we say...

But now, Wow!

Ok, not much of a difference, but for those of you who couldn't tell my dirty pile from my tidy pile, thats the newly defined dirty pile above.

Portion Trois:This area is lovingly known as the 'scary pile', due to it's ability to reach the window sill if I can't find what I'm looking for...

Shazam!

Now you can appreciate my artistic ability - I painted that pic whilst on a week long 'day camp' at the ANU art school when I was high school, where I was tormented for being the oldest and lonliest... *sigh*.

The next portion was my personal area of concern...

I honest to God thought there were mice living in the bottom shelf, in my 'memories' shoeboxes...

See the difference now?!

No? Thats coz I only pulled out the boxes, looked for poop and shuffled things around a bit. Rest assured that I keep the doors closed. (Laydeez - if you can track down one of the promotional Davidoff Cool Water posters that's hangin to the right there, feel free to mail me a letter of praise. That man is GOD). (Don't tell the adjoining White Ninja, The Rock or Legolas pictures that I favour him over them. Puh-lease!).

Almost there! Check out my messy Dresser top (the one without the broken TV on it):

This was after I decided to put all my CD's onto my iPod and couldn't be assed to put em back...

*BLAMMO*

(That took like 3 minutes).

See! I wasn't just shuffling the mess around - there's clean floor!!:

Final Product?!:

*Much Rejoice*

Note: There was a delay of about half an hour before I could start this post as I had to wait till The Hun woke up because my lappy wasn't picking up my camera, before I realised (after he's sat down at it for a few minutes) that we were in fact plugging and unplugging the printer insteat... did I mention I've done IT?

The 'other' camp

Whatcha get up to on the weekend?

BBQ?

TV?

Dinner with the fam?

I was at martial arts camp.

*cheers*

Thats right! Here's a rundown of what you can get up to!

First, arrange a convoy meeting point then get there late. Then lead a convey down the highway, travelling 40k an hour with your hazards on to let the other people catch up, ignoring the glares from the cranky workers stuck down behind you.

Run a fitness class, the most excruciating part for you being clapping your hands to 'Lose my Breath' and yelling at people to punch continuously.

Whinge along with everyone else about the pain, until they remember it's entirely your fault and you did nothing, Nothing, NOTHING!!!

Bed.

Bang on the wall to shut up the noisy girls in the next cabin.

BANG AGAIN LOUDER!!

Quick wake up at 3 am to rouse the Ramadan students for some brekky.

Wake again at 6:30 for meditation class.

Block ears and cover eyes as student vomits over the side of the building.

Take photos of your students training in the hot sun for almost two hours, thusly:


Start your own brawls by picking 4 people to fight 2, on your own entertainment-based whims, thusly:

Lunch.

Enforce another 2.5 hours training in the sun and get sunburnt scalp that will peel and look like dandruff at work on Thursday.

Dinner.

Run 'teambuilding' game where you state who you are and what you like - laugh hysterically when one students mentions he likes childrens cartoons, and look bewildered when another says he likes pain.

Run another teambuilding excercise where to students build a spaghetti marshmallow tower, thusly:


Judge competition where students design poster to advertise school, unawares that they are doing task assigned to EnnyPen months ago, thusly:

Watch self defence class where one student accidentally fingers nose of another when trying to fake an eye gouge, and almost cack as brother lets out particularly stanky fart noticed only by one other person in the class.

Bed.

Bang on the wall to shut up the noisy girls in the next cabin.

BANG AGAIN LOUD ENOUGH TO BE HEARD FOUR CABINS AWAY!!!

Wake students up at 2:30 for candle staring meditation.

Make girls stay later for staying late, ignoring young boy who has fallen asleep.

Wake sleeping boy to make him eat Ramadan brekky.

Wake students again at 630 for training.

Breakfast.

Learn how to use a jo, thusly:


Pose for a photo on the stinkin hot bitchumen, looking like your training hard, thusly:


Take turns in knocking each other down to get 'Look how hard I trained, Mum' grasstains, thusly:


Punish girls for being late to 230 am session by making them run around the oval like a chicken (in true martial arts style), thusly:


Pose for a photo like you've had a fantastic weekend, thusly:


Whinge to all who'll listen about how terrible a weekend you had.

Praise the Lord when you get out of speeding ticket, don't let it be dampened by fact that last car in convoy got booked.

SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

EnnyPen 101 - FINAL WEEK FOR 2005!! (*parties in head*)

Apart from considering myself an all-round ozzie chick, I also consider myself an exemplary cook, using only the choicest humbleberries for my pies.

*tiddy boom*

So, guys, I didn't speak to my tutor re: dissapointing essay mark. Everyone was right, credits should be good enough, esp considering I got HD for my speech, and am sitting on a D or HD for my tute mark, so I should still get a credit overall for course, depending on the success of my essay... and the tute was focussing on ways to do the exam essay so I don't really need to speak to him about that... so you, I'm tuckin into that there humble pie...

But only one more lecture and tute to go, the two exams and then I'm home free!

Although, I get my law marks back this afternoon, which I just may share with you as well (coz you're so, like dying to know).

There isn't much uni-wise to talk about in this late stage, so I'll finish this up and get my goss on re: martial arts camp on the w/end!

Enny Out!

Viva l'Italia!

I'd consider myself an all-round ozzie chick.

I love vegemite, and pavlova, and those seeds you buy at the Canberra show that taste like vegemite but aren't.

I love a bunch of prawns on the barbie, sitting outside in the 30+ heat with a refreshing 'alcho-pop'.

And I love sport.

Not just any sport, as you should now be aware, but rugby union. Not cricket, not AFL, not league (as much) and not soccer. Good Ol' Rugby. Noobs: see here and here and here...

I also love the The Hun. And with him comes his heritage.

Hmmm, you ask, where is she going with this?

His Italian heritage.

Allow me to present to you this ditty, courtesty of my USA friend, displaying the aw3x0m3 skillz of the Italian Rugby Union team *Girlish squeals!!!!*:

Wanna "play ball?"

He's first place in my pants heart

Do you need a bicycle built for two?

Another relaxing day in the Conder house...

Rub a dub dub, 3 men in a tub...



*The End*

EnnyPen 101 - Week 15

I got an 8.5/10 for my speech:

- Good intro and analysis of key terms and concepts
- Excellent use of PowerPoint
- Good analysis of key issues
- Evidence of sound research (although see notes in bibliography)
- Excellent Effort
- You need to slow down your speech!

I was pretty stoked with that - I put half of a 3 day weekend (day and night hours) for that 5 minute speech.

And I got a credit for my essay. And I know I shouldn't be, but I'm dissapointed.

Last time I did uni I scraped through, doing essays at the last minute, doing one draft and handing it in without getting anyone to see it or even running the spell check through it. Only using the textbook for info coz I didn't even take any notes coz I didn't go to lectures. And being stoked on the offchance of a credit.

This time, I analysed the key terms, concepts and issues, there was arseloads of research and a shitload of effort. I spent hours and hours and hours and hours and hours on that stupid essay. I checked of all of the hints and tips in the lecture that was dedicated on how to do well in the essay. I spoke to the tutor, to my dad and to The Hun repeatedly. I sent and resent and resent it to get a couple of people's viewpoints on it to get it the best I could. I borrowed 14 books from my parents and I had 4 pages of references. And I was proud of it at the end!!

It just feels like bullshit to see all the ticks being in the 'OK' box down the front, not even 'good', with more than like 3 quarters of the comments being about my referencing - the importance of which was not even mentioned in that 2 hour essay dedicated lecture!!

I'm going to fucking GLASS the motherfucker who invented the motherfucking Harvard Referencing system. Like if they were going to base my fucking knowledge of government, business and politics on how well I can memorise that fucking referencing system rather than what I have to say or think or found, then I should be doing six part-time years on fucking Harvard Referencing to get my fucking Bachelor of fucking Harvard Referencing, with the opportunity for Harvard Referencing with Honours or maybe my motherfucking doctorate in fucking Harvard Referencing before I graduate from mother-fucking University of fucking Harvard Referencing before my motherfucking illustrious career as a fucking motherfucking Harvard Referencer.

FUCK!

And that's ignoring that fact that I lost 2 marks for it being late which is complete bullshit and is currently being disputed.

Although it is proddly being fuelled by my eavesdropping on some cutesy 17 year old who was unhappy with her marks and took them to her lecturer and got her pass and credit upgraded to distinction and high disctinctions and all future work will be marked as though she had never done any of the course study.

And I hate sounding like a prissy snotty suckface whingy study nerd bitch.

ChickyBabe says...

Whilst over at ChickyBabes place, I read her post asking if you've ever regretted letting go of a same sex friendship.

I was going to comment, but realised that it might take up too much room (not a lot, just a little bit more than I'd like to!).

I met her through an ex. He was involved in a lot of car stuff, and she had just bought a sporty new 200sx. She brought her car round to where we were meeting, invited by a guy I didn't trust with a gf of the same name as me. She was thin, pretty, friendly, confident and everything that I wasn't. She must've known I was wary, but she still put in a constant effot, ignoring my not-so-sublte 'tood against her until I started to relax a little.

That night she hooked up with the guy I didn't trust with a gf of the same name as me.

And while I was sititing back all smirky, she came up to me and confessed to what she'd done and apologised and couldn't understand what she'd done and decided she'd go home but we'd keep in touch.

And we did.

My friendship with her has been my most unexplainable. She was everything that I wanted to be and everything I resented in 'those types of people'. She was always out, always followed by gaggles of guys, always looked fantastic and always partied hard.

She had a job out near the airport and we were in constact email contact. She was my rock and my sounding board during a very painful, confusing and conflicting breakup period - she was the perfect friend - sympathetic, understanding, helpful and always there without it ever being about her. It was during this time that I got to see the other side of her, the vulnerable side of her, the hurt side of her and the real side of her.

And when her family upped and moved to the USA - she sold me that car.

And then all of a sudden she was back!

In that time I'd finally snagged me The Hun and was about 10 kilos heaver. She'd moved into a trendy little place with some of her trendy friends. And I witnessed a gaggle of girlies dealing drugs out of their home to all these strange guys.

Now I'm the first to admit I was fairly sheltered and I'm fairly reserved. I mean, I'll swear and make dirty sex jokes and butt jokes and crap jokes and filth, Filth, FILTH; but you show me someone with drugs and I turn into the nasty aunty. I'm terrible, I hate it and you'll feel my wrath. I'll sulk, I'll yell, I'll snap, I'll cry, I'll pout, I'll ignore you and I'll do generally everything I can to act like a pouty 2 year old to show you my dissaproval.

So to see her doing that, was just to much for me. I upped it and outted it, saying I couldn't make it out on the town with them that night. And that was the last I heard from her. Whilst she had been so strong for me, she was lost to me in that moment. Something that started so unexpectedly was over just as quickly.

Scan forward a year or so later, and I got an email from her. I wasn't sure if it was meant for me, as she was writing in a fairly friendly manner, like a good friend to a good friend, and seeing as I hadn't heard from her since then, I just figured it was a mistake and ignored it. A few weeks later I got another one, and decided to answer. And now we email back and forth every week or so - granted, it's still a bit of a getting-to-know-you-again type thang but it's still nice to quasi have her back again.

She's the only one I've almost given up on, and I really hope that it keeps on.

And that's why I couldn't just stick it in the comments!

I stoled it, I dids...

I'm an Ampersand Duck lurker (she's a Canberra gal too!) and although she didn't tag me, she jus posted her results from a meme that I'd been thinking about doing something similar too it anyways...

7 things I want to do before I die:
- See Vegas, France, Japan, NY and that heart island
- Get a Company Carpark
- Have a beautiful wedding
- Have a pomeranian puppy named Buddy
- Be happy with myself
- Have at least two children
- Die peacefully

7 things I cannot do:
- I also can't drink coffee
- Jumpkick
- Let myself go
- Cry at farewells
- Get up the guts to go to a brazillian waxer
- Tell friends and family about the blog
- Let myself be tickled without kicking out frantically, even if it means The Hun cops a stray limb to the face or (heaven forbid) the balls

7 things that attract me to the opposite sex:
- Sense of humour
- Smile
- The ability to hold a conversation (listen, think and talk!)
- Thickish hair to run hands through and tug
- Cheeky sparkley eyes
- Compassion
- Intelligence
- Cute little hip-swaying, shoulder-shrugging, song-mouthing dance moves

7 things that I say most often:
- *SNAP!*
- Fuck off!
- Repetiore!
- Huuunny boooooooo (whiney like)
- Stop tickling me please!! (sternly)
- Who ate the last banana? He ate the last banana! (it's a family thang)
- Will you take me to Floriade? (I'm going with my parents tmr folks, so there'll hafta be a new one in rotation shortly...)

7 celebrity crushes:

75% of all Rugby Union Players

Dylan Moran


Drew Domkus (on right, taken from their site, with his ever-awesome wife Dawn Miceli and SuperFanFunFriend Adam Curry)

Bjork (she's my she-crush)

David Bowie in The Labyrinth

OWEN WILSON!!!

Tim from "The Office"

Tell me yours?

GoogleMap BoobleBap

Do you want to see the most wretched place to put a set of traffic lights?!

Let me set the scenario for you:

This is Tuggeranong, Canberra. Lanyon (Nappy Valley) has only got one entry from the parkway - one of the few 2 lane 100k roads in Canberra that joins woden, civic, belco and tuggers - culminating in that roundabout to the right (BigHell). If you're sneaky, you can exit the parkway a little early and drive behind tuggers, meaning you go through the little roundabout (LilHell) and then meet up at BigHell anyway. The green box is where I drive when I come past the orange buildings on my way home from work, turn left at LilHell then right at BigHell to get to my house (see diagram). This roundabout used to be such a bitch as the traffic would back up at BigHell from all the city workers coming down the parkway, and I'd hafta zip into the right lane after LilHell fairly quickly.

Let's zoom in!


See that frowny face? Thats me this afternoon. Those fuckwits have installed traffic lights on the little mini tiny road tween LilHell and BigHell. These lights are also 'part time' - meaning they're only on during the busy periods- ie, when I want to get home from work. This afternoon I had to be one of those people I hate - those arrogant sunsabitches who zip up thru the empty lane then cut in closer to BigHell - JUS SO I COULD GET HOME!! THERE'S NO OTHER WAY!!!

And yeah, I know this is boring as shit, but I spent a while gettin Google Map to work, so you can jus bask n revel in my glory and paintskillz instead.

*Mmmmm - it's so waaaaarm*

EnnyPen 101 - Week 14

I was sitting in the refect, thinkin about how I wouldn have much to write about today. I mean, I been enjoying the total lack of assessment since Wednesday when I got my old boss to drop my law assignment in for me so I could sit back and piss it up a little more at the farewell of the lady that was in charge of me. The tutor this morning told me that I'd get my (clapless) speech mark and my essay mark next week, so that's alright - I'd rather get them today, but he apparantly had an 'emergency house move' that he needed to do (I gotta remember that excuse!).

So anyways, jus as I was finishin up my new fav sandwhich ($2.20 from the student uniony place - pesto, grilled mushroom and lettuce bun) this ringer alarm thing starts going off and the cleaning-tables lady starts scootching everyone out of the refect - 'sorry everyone, evacuate please; sorry everyone, workers evacuate too please, sorry everyone, evacuate to outside please'. So I dunno WTF is going on - maybe she wanted to skive out on the busy period, or one too many hyperactive 17yo's has smeared crap all over the walls or stuck gum under the tables and she's tripped the alarm, feeling only slightly remorseful (hence the apologising).

So I come to library so I can get back onto the Wifi and notice how goddamn quiet it is in library in comparison to the refect. I get myself settled and put my iPod on - and you all remember how it was like all fucked up like a week or two ago? Well, its still fucked and it wasn't playing, so I was waiting it out. AND THEN the Dawn & Drew Show intro comes on full ball (if you haven't heard it, she's like faking orgasm) and I can't turn it out down, or stop it. So it basically sounded like I was listening to pr0n in the library and everyone could hear it.

And hopefully, thats about as exciting as today gets for me!

Famewhore, Searchwhore & Stripwhore

Please don't blame the Dawn and Drew show for my increasing crassness - I downloaded ALL of their archives and I'm striding my way thru them all in order- meaning I laugh to myself all day and can't explain what I'm laughing at coz D&D are arguing whether... hmm... I'll hafta post that when I'm drunker, I can't get that crass all of a sudden (hint: fist)...

Anyways - I'm a total famewhore now - TJ - I gotta post more cryptic links in your comments - It's doing wonders for my ego! Seriously tho? Your foot looks whack, but I think that jumping means that it's not broken. YET.

And because I've been totally slack, I thought I needed a post with a few parts in it. It's not my fault, I tell you - it's uni. Uni. UNI!!! ('What? EnnyPens at uni?' Heh heh, good one, you guys!). My famewhoredom has coincided (coninsided?!) with an increase in those things that appear in the BlogPatrol box about how people have found you thru search engines. And so, becaues I'm a Searchwhore, I figured I could cater to all of these people in one paragraph, seeing as they had the decency to follow the links to get here:

"Yoh boogers. I tell you, if you wanna pick up a sexsi woman with sexsi legs (even in a hole like kambah) then you should totally head out to like tuggies and shout ur choice some drinks - not too many, just enough so that's she's tipsy giggly and sexsi pissed. Be careful tho', coz Canberra's small and you may find some MAL HUNKS or Laurie Daley hunks or any other ex-raider hunk hanging round the next corner and they'll totally try to snag your sexsi woman. Once you've reeled her in (and saved her from the Raiders) it's time to take her back to your house... Oh no! Your brother's having a LAN? What a dork! Kick your brother in the balls and then kick my brother in the balls for good measure and then take her enny"place and then, like enny good romantic, it's time to try inserting a string in her pussy + vidéo 5 méga - whoah!! No!!! Time to let her use the bathroom and drop her home to her parents, perverts!"

You gottit - all those bolded redded terms there were succesfully used to find my blog. And I have NO idea WTF that last one was looking for, nor do I want to spend time Googlesearching to work it out!

And I know it's a crap story - but I challenge you to do any better! It's tricky!! I mean, all these seracher people are so disturbed!!! (my ego still thanks you guys for ur hits tho'!!)

Last item on the agenda - are you a Stripwhore?

What order do you get dressed/undressed?

(Yeah, and I'm the one saying that everyone else is disturbed and perverted!)

I was scoffed at last week as I was preparing for Showerfest 2005 and told something along the lines of (it was before the weekend - I can't remember that far!) that standing half naked as I was not the 'proper' way to be getting ready for a shower.

Thus, I have documented my average undress order (presuming I'm in my lazy housewear trackydacks combo):

- Trackydacks down until I get to my sock-tops, and they come off at the same time in a gorgantuous flourish

- jumper

- knickers/panties/undies/whatevs

- singlet

- bra

- hair elastics, bobby pins etc

You see, apparanly my total eagerness to release 'the downstairs' before the 'upstairs' isn't quite PC....

So, guys?

(not guys like just The Student, guys like 'guys'n'gals')
(tho I better get a Student reply on this one)

Guys?

Can you all get nekked and tell me about your order?

Thks!

EnnyPen 101 - Week 13

Ponder on this heartwenching situation: Poor lil 20-sum'n public servant, trying to gain some form of official qualification in this world of uncertain employment and Government-position unrest, spends all hours of daylight and nightime over a 3 day weekend (excluding lunch at Sushi Train on Saturday) mackin' her way through a presentation on State Sovereignty and Financial Flows AND a 2 page examination of the eBay User Agreement AND a 1500 word analysis on the current feud between Microsoft and Google over the employment of Dr Lee, that, when presented to The Hun for perousal, is found to be nowhere near legal sounding enough.

I mean, I'm all for the 'stay up all night, sleep all day, eat whatever you feel like' party-hearty uni attitude, but its sucks total arse when its due to study and not drinking or dancing or network tetris or whatever it is that uni ppl do when they're awake nowadays.

The weather in Canberra was frickin awesome this weekend - beautiful, Beautiful, BEAUTIFUL clear blue skies (albeit a lil windy) and warm sunny, er, sun that warranted both heaters being put away, and I had to spend it witheld in The Huns ironing room study. I'm sure plenty of studiers know what it feels like, but that doesn't invalidate the fact that I had to sit in my I'm-eating-whatever-I-like-coz-I'm-studying tracky pants combo and listen to The Hun and his friends rush out to play frisbees on the oval coz the weather was so delightful; or how they gathered round the telly to play car races and laugh and joke and wail (the poor dear was exhausted afterwards, bless his heart). I'm planning to frick around with that powerbox thing on the side of the house so that we can run off the pure amount of pout-age that was transmitted over the weekend, carrying over until about 10pm tonight when I can finally finish law-ing up that essay.

Anyways, I gave my presentation this morning and *think* it went OK, thought I don't remember getting a clap. I mean, my material did get referred several times thru the tute (albeit as 'like that stuff that whatsy said' by the tool sitting a few to my right) and a couple of people told me it was pretty good, but I'll find out next week. At this stage I am still yet to get any feedback from uni, so I have no idea how I am going... Riccadonna party is planned if good results are obtained.



I think thats enough school stuff for now - my eyes are totally squinty.

Tag-a-roooonnneeeeee!

Right. You all know I'm ' sposed to be doing the shitload of uni work that is due on Tuesday, so it's for this reason that I'm finally sitting down at 11pm on Saturday night to start my presentation, my reference list, my 2 page summary and my 1500 word essay, redeye in hand, turkish pide in belly and strange brain-sucking earphones (to block out the noise of The Hun watching 'Saw' in the room with the heater in it, meaning the door must be left open) feat. Jeff Buckley in head and replying to my first ever tag!!!

The always entertaining and thought-provoking ChickyBabe tagged me thussly (rules copied from her tagger August95):

The Rules:

1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same.

{insert drum roll} tatatatatatatata {end drum roll}

EnnyPens 23rd post was this doozy-woozy.

Making her 5th sentence this gemmy-wemmy

{insert 20th Century Fox Fanfare} tatatatatatatata {end 20th Century Fox Fanfare}

I'm gullible.

Well duh. Does the pope shit in the woods? It's suprising how much of an insight this task gives. I was ranting about {Deleted by the Author - sorry dudes!}

To try and back up how gullible I am, I asked The Hun for an example. After he snorked a lil, we came to the conclusion that it's pretty hard for particular instances as he stopped tricking me after the first while coz it just got too easy and took the fun out of it. I mean, I'm sure I've told y'all that I did a course at uni that was all about not taking everything I read or hear as gospel, but it didn't really help a whole lot once exam period was over. But between you and me, I still get tinglez from hitting 'Reply All' with a Snopes link whenever I get forwarded a reaaaaally obvious fakey that I've already read in the weekly Snopes update...
Enough about me, I'd lurve to hear about you.

And because I'm chickensh!t and don't know many people round these here parts, I'm begging tagging TJ, The Student, Jelly, my lil bro {I'll post his reply if he gets round to it!} and leave one spare for the first lucky 'other' person to get in and reply...that's right, you! The one with the hair! Yes, YOU!!!

*please?*