Hup Two Three Four

I started "boot camp" on Monday. The notice came around at work - 2 mornings a week from 6:45 till 7:45 for four weeks. $99. Finishing the Wed before Christmas.

Four of us signed up - Mumsy, the most senior of the HR ladies, a girl who also plays soccer with me and myself - imagining mud crawling, tyre hopping, cammies and shoe polish; Buff shirtless men with dog tags, square jaws and tight shorts; and us finishing on Dec 21 gleaming and glinting with beads of sparkly sweat (as apposed to my drippy ugly sweat), toight and fit.

The other one of the HR ladies told us about one running down at Gordon, where for every minute you're late, you get ten pushups. They ran 15k on their first day holding weights up over their head. And whilst this was intimidating, it was also exciting - this would be just what we need to shift those kilos (that I seem to be negating by permissing emotional eating!).

Um no.

We had an initial test on Friday - height, weight, BMI, blood pressure. This was where he let us know that their 'competitive edge' is that they make it 'fun' and 'enjoyable'. This is also where we lost our first teammate - Mumsy was on her way to get tested when she got the call, so she was down for the count.

Monday morning, the soccer player didn't make it - she 'snoozed' her alarm from 5am to 7:30, arriving at work for a morning coffee at 9:30, promising to come along on Wednesday.

Monday was the initial testing - getting some base scores so we can how much we improve. I ran 9 laps of the cones in 12 minutes, I held 'brace' position for 2:20 (beating everyone else which was nice) and did 47 (kneww) pushups in a minute. By ten am I was walking like a lego man.

I was almost late this morning (seeing how my timing goes when I wake up at 6:20 instead of 6:10) and arrived to find myself the only one of my aweseome foursome threeseome. The most senior of the HR ladies caught up with us as we headed down to the lake, but still no sign of the soccer player. This morning we did fartlek training (which is not as entertaining as it might sound) - for those wishing to get more cardio you ran a minute then jogged a minute for what turned out to be 5k. For those trying to shift those kilos you got to speed walk the whole time. Fetch me that cane, I'm a walker.

However, my legs are still aching, and I've been warned that I may have to physically lift my legs off the bed tmr (SPEAKING OFF WHICH, HOW FRICKIN COLD IS IT ATM!??!!!). I'm also unable to 'visit the ladies' without sounding like I'm suffering some sort of labour induced / laxette OD / getting-back-to-my-roots-primal-grunt from the pain down my thighs. And I have grass rash on my belly (that's the more entertaining of the two).

I'm hoping to keep my legs moving and not get them stiff by hitting the shops today - taking my scraggly brother shopping and for a haircut. Last thing I need at the moment is to have to be carried to the lecturn thing to do a reading.

And as a closing note - if someone tells you that they are going to a viewing the day before the funeral, it's proddly not the best time to start rambling about how seeing your relatives lifeless ruined all of your happy memories of them, or how their skin was tearing up and falling off their face.

Thanks.

I've been hanging onto this to wait until a month before Christmas...

... and then I go and don't post it on Friday 25th!

(Note: the first bit is is a lil reminiscent of the Italian Rugby Players in case you're squeamish and would rather come back when you won't get in trubble for looking at 'stuff' or wanna scroll down quick!)

Chistmas is coming, Ladies and Gents - start the countdown!!

Five:

Four:
Three:

Two:

One:

LESS THAN ONE MONTH TO GO!!!

Have you started your shopping?! I'm more than halfway through, but unfortunately I can't embellish on what I've bought (due to nosy 'receivers' that frequent here) to give you hints on what you could buy (last year my gifts were crappy by comparison, so I'm hopin to make up for it this year).

But I will finish up with what I'm hoping for:

(Donations over $2 tax-deductible - Ho Ho Ho!)

The things that you want to blog about but don't want to blog about but don't know so you start anyway to see what happens

I figure I can do this now, then post another one straight after so at least it will be pushed down a bit.

The first time I was enrolled at uni, I switched to part time in my third year and took up waitressing parttime to break my 3 month long unemployment habit. Then I dropped out of uni entirely and took up waitressing fulltime. Whilst this proddly was not one of my best career moves ever, it was something that I think needed to be done - going straight from school to uni is not always succesful from what I've seen - my littlest bro is going through this at the moment - but he cleverly only went 1 semester into his degree before 'the big pause' rather than 2.25 years into it.

During this time, my dad told me that my Pa (his dad) was in a bit of depression. Pa was born in 1910, so he was well into his 90's at this stage, and he was getting upset about life in general - all his friends were dying, he coudn't do as much as he wanted to and then they went and closed the club in Queanbeyan where he went for his only weekly outing for the meat raffles.

When my Nana died (his wife) about 15 years earlier, my Aunty moved in to care for him. She was the one who communicated to my Dad that he was crying and losing weight and not feeling all that crash hot and a lot of it seemed to be boredome and lonliness. So I started to come in each week for a visit.

At first it was kinda awkward - I was never really that close to my grandparents and I was really grateful for my Aunties presence as she was a little easier to talk to. I'd tell him about my work and talk about the family and brough him in some pancakes to show him what they were like. As time went on I also occasionally brought him in some KFC and some McDonalds - things that he'd never tried due to his stubborness that lunch always had and always would be roast meat and veg, with icecream and jelly for dessert (He loved the KFC btw, and gave thumbs down to the Big Mac).

Over the years it got easier and easier to talk to him. Although his memory was getting pretty shot, it was never difficult to talk to him and I always had a great time talking to him. It also started that my Aunty would bother me more - the visits to him would be overshadowed by her talking about her knees, about her lunch down at the hotel something-or-other, what her friends were doing, her weight etc etc. It wasn't like I started to resent her or anything, but more that she became a bit of a joke - when I'd go back to my parents to talk to them about my visit, you'd always talk up her annoyingness. She'd talk about her life all the time and would get frustrated at him when he started to tell his long stories or didn't have his hearing aid up loud enough and you'd just want her to stop trying to make it all about her.

This last year or two my visits were getting less and less frequent. Work started to get busier, I had more and more 'Extra-carricular" activities, and his poor immune system meant that any symptoms of flu or cold meant that you couldn't go in. The last few months in particular, with exams and martial arts I hadn't been in for about three weeks. The plan was to stop past on Saturday to take in some lanolin night cream my aunty had urgently requested at 7:30am a month or so ao.

For years and years when you'd visit him and ask how he was, you'd always get a 'only just' as a response. He'd always say he was ready to go and on the edge. But these last few months he'd been really well, the life of the party (albeit at his brothers funeral), he'd finally got his new teeth, got a new fence put up and the garden was going well - he'd just put in the tomatoes. My Dad and brother were in there Thursday night and he may well have asked where I was, asking if I'd 'given him away' as he often said when I hadn't been in for a while.

Friday at 4:40 my dad called to tell me that he'd died. The carer had left the house at 2 and my aunty returned at 3:30 after Christmas shopping. Fridays were her 'days off' when she could 'get away' for a few hours. The oven was shifted and he was on the floor - he'd either had a stroke or a fall and hit the oven on his way down when he shuffled into the kitchen to wash the cups from the tea he'd shared with the carer.

In her 'state' she called my 20 year old brother at home, to tell him to tell my dad (he was also the one who had to tell my dad after I got hit by a car).

I don't know where to go with this - my usual way of dealing is not to think about it - so I may be a little dodgly this upcoming week - there's a viewing on Wednesay and Funeral on Thursday. There's just these moments where you realise the things you were still waiting to do - to show him my new house, to cook him a roast (after I'd made my first one and it was fairly succesful), to show him my grading video, to get to know more about him...

And to see my aunty all in tears in the loungeroom begging me not to stop coming in now that he's gone and only feeling frustrated.

'I lied about being the outdoor type'

I can't remember who sung that song, or even how it goes (other than the chours that goes 'I lied about being, the out-door-type').

ANYWAYS.

As you proddly already know, my 'sport' of choice is martial arts (quote-sport-quote as it's oft quoted "it's not a sport, it's a lifestyle"). This has worked well for me thus far (over 16 years of thus-farness) as I never really tried anything else when I was younger.

Let me regale you with this itty-bitty-ditty: in year six, the 'cool' teacher took us out to the oval to play rugby. "Who doesn't know how to play rugby?" she quipped, and a lone (daggy) EnnyPen was the only person to put up their hand. I can't remember what happened next, but it mustn't've involved me shouting 'just kidding' and scoring the winning goal (score? try?) as I've only started learning the basics from a watching perspective this year. Age 23. Year 18 equivalent.

This has meant I never learnt the rules of many 'well known' games - Rugby, AFL, Netball, Cricket, Soccer etc. It also means I never developed any hand-eye coordination, any throwing or catching skills or any 'team player' skills.

Nayways, martial arts is not a team sport. If you get tired, or puffed, or corked, you jus gotta keep on going. You don't get to call 'interchange' and swap with someone of the same gender thats just standing around swilling water.

If you get your weapon to the target, then good on you. It doesn't matter which way the 'target' bounces across the oval (or to the opposing team) to the dismayed looks of your teammates.

You are given gradings or tests to justify what skill level you are at as an individual. You are not just put at a level according to the roughly general skill level of you combined with 8 other people.

You get taught the combinations - they are definable, they make sense, and just showing a basic grasp of what you should be doing is usually enough to at least pass you at a grading. You do not just get chucked onto the field with the 8 others and have to kind of guess your way through 40 minutes of huffing and puffing, stumbling and mumbling, kicking and missing, and shouting and pouting.

You guessed it. EnnyPen (the uncoordinated, unfit, non-team player who hates sport remo) is playing mixed soccer in the top division.

And this is where you all need to listen up.

You at the back - shhhhh!

Listen.

Jus because a friend asked you nicely to play and you spent $80 on soccer boots last year to play a game that you hate and don't understand for 8 weeks over summer, does not mean that you have to play again.

Now that you've learnt your lesson, please repeat the above paragraph to me next year when she askes me play for the third year in a row?

Thankyou et al.

RIP Lil Buddy

Today, another angel earned his wings:

*Kisses from afar, lil fella*

Now that School's out for Summer...

... I'll proddly be talking a bit more about work.

{Deleted by the Author - sorry dudes!}

Sem 1, Yr 1 - tick!

TAKE THAT, SUCKAHS!!

Still riding the tidy(ish)-room train

Just for Erica!

Contents of room were not amended prior to taking this photo; nor has there been a massive cleanup effort since this post.

Who's a good girl?
Enny is!!!

Dear **** **********, MLA

I resent that you wouldn't let me in to the right lane at the stupidest round-a-bout in all of Canberra this afternoon. In peak hour traffic. When you could see that I was backing up the traffic halfway to the Hyperdome in my attempt to be able to get home.

I also resent that you nonchalantly looked out your driver side window like you didn't know what you were doing, while you inched closer and Closer and CLOSER to the car in front of you.

I also resent that you didn't indicate as you turned right at the roundabout - you know that knobby thing to the right of the steering wheel of your big mans car? Yeah, you're meant to use that. And no, using it for a little then stopping it before you turn does not legal indication make.

However, I don't resent you having personalised numberplates to assist in my identification of you; nor that you have given me something else to support my belief that all youse politics guys are jerky shitheads.

Hearts,
Enny.

Did you make the protest today?

I was going to post about it - I wasn't 'able' to attend (read into that how you will) - but I don't know that I'm in such a position to do so.

So instead, I'd like to commission a study into the black hole that is present between assessment that you fiddle-fart-arse out at the last minute and score well on, and the assessment you frickin stress your hair out and score the same on. WTF?!

You gotta love it/ gotta HATE!STAB!HATE! it

One the one hand, studying for exams is something I can potentially enjoy,
- finally understanding the things I was meant to know from the second week onwards and witnessing the way it all makes so much sense now!;
- snaking my way out of housework as I'm too busy studying; and
- the little rush of elation you get post exam/pre-riccadonna party.

However,
- It doesn't always make all that much sense;
- I still do the shopping and cooking and occassionally a lil bit of cleaning; and
- STUDYING SUCKS THE FUN FORCE OUT OF LIFE.

It's a lovely sunny day, the birds are chirping, there's not much wind out.

My parents have a fuckload of seafood left over from yesterdays Dads-birthday-shenanigans that I could go over and partake in (I had a day off from the CSIRO diet).

I haven't been spending much and I wanna go shop for my new 70kg and shrinking frame (albeit proddly not shrinking much atm due to afore-mentioned Dads-birthday shenanigans).

I need to go out and get ideas for Christmas presents - particularly for The Hun who ALWAYS trumps my gifts AND takes great pride in his ability to do that AND guesses what I have bought him AND doesn't feel that guilty about no matter how much I pout and *booo*.

I need to get a tan so I can wear a skirt!

I need to get some more excercise.

ETC ETC.

You can see that all the forces of fun are against me. And whilst perousing my ennypen gmail account for stuff I've forwarded to myself for these post drought conditions, I found something to express exactly how I feel.



Till then,
Enny!

100th post!!!

I'm a sheep, I'm a sheep, I'm a sheep!

This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	8.1
Mind:	7.8
Body:	8.9
Spirit:	7.5
Friends/Family:	5.3
Love:	7.7
Finance:	8.1
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

Life: ... Your life score is reasonably high. This means that you are on a good path. Continue doing what is working and set about to improve in areas which continue to lag. Do this starting today and you will begin to reap the benefits immediately.

Mind:Your mind score is within a healthy zone. This means you have achieved a level of mental balance and harmony consistent with living a healthy, happy life. Continue doing what works, and keep your focus. In our fast-paced world, mental clutter is all too common. Be vigilant in maintaining healthy mental function.

Body: You have an excellent body score, which means you are incredibly focused on maintaining a healthy lifestyle. Continue in that focus, and your body will remain healthy and strong.

Spirit:Your spirit score is relatively high, which means you are rewarded by your beliefs. Spirituality is clearly important to do. Never let it slip, and continue to learn and grow.

Friends/Family:Your friends and family score is not bad but can be improved. Maintain your current social net, while you try to expand it. Try new things and form new friendships. You will be rewarded greatly.

Love: Your love score is in good shape, meaning that things are going well. Do all you can to maintain it, and continue to grow and move ahead.

Finance: You have a rather good financial score, which is not all that common these days. Keep doing what works. Avoid common pitfalls and save for the future. You will be glad you did.

(and thanks for all the fish!)

Mood: Despondant

Eh. I don't even know what that means.

I had my exam today, and I think I at least passed - hopefully all the younglings excitedly talking over each other about how they didn't know where right, thus bumping my marks up. 10 questions and an essay in 2 hours. I was a little muddled on the 'statism' one, and the 'structural adustment' wasn't in the notes, but maybe my rambling will give me half a mark. We'll hafta wait and see.

I was going to celebrate with a drink or two, but The Hun is still out and about and this CSIRO thang isn't making me feel like 'rewarding' myself with something 'naughty'. Although this should be a good thing, I was looking forward to having an excuse. Twisted.

Anyways, I've got a mustard roast to prepare, I best be off.

However, I do leave you with Scott Adams' (Mr Dilbert) notes on blogging that he sent out in his newsletter that I thought was appropriate and deep and meaningful. I've also linked his blog here and on the sidebar (look left, stoopid!).

Yours in potentical cheeriness and newsworthiness next time,
Enny.

MY OWN DILBERT BLOG
===================

When I see news stories about people all over the world who are experiencing hardships, I worry about them, and I rack my brain wondering how I can make a difference. So I decided to start my own blog. That way I won’t have time to think about other people.

People who are trying to decide whether to create a blog or not go through a thought process much like this:

1. The world sure needs more of ME.
2. Maybe I’ll shout more often so that people nearby can experience the joy of knowing my thoughts.
3. No, wait, shouting looks too crazy.
4. I know – I’ll write down my daily thoughts and badger people to read them.
5. If only there was a description for this process that doesn’t involve the words egomaniac or unnecessary.
6. What? It’s called a blog? I’m there!

The blogger’s philosophy goes something like this:

Everything that I think about is more fascinating than the crap in your head.

The beauty of blogging, as compared to writing a book, is that no editor will be interfering with my random spelling and grammar, my complete disregard for the facts, and my wandering sentences that seem to go on and on and never end so that you feel like you need to take a breath and clear your head before you can even consider making it to the end of the sentence that probably didn’t need to be written anyhoo.

If that doesn’t inspire you to read my blog, I don’t know what will.

I'll start studying soon....

I was jus running through my favourites before 'knuckling down' (note the time) and saw this over at Ampersand Ducks place.

For your eye-google-magoogle pleasure, South Park Enny Pen has entered the building:

TTFN guyz, lol!

EnnyPen 101 - Exam Week 1

Hey y'all,

It's getting a bit post-droughty here atm, but there seems to be a lot goin on. Everyone's busy, so for your convenience, I'll dot point summarise my to-ings and fro-ings.

• I have my first uni exam (politics) next Tuesday. Today is Thursday. I'm trying not to do the math on that.

• Although I do know that I seem to be running out of study time, what with happy hour on friday night, the oven man coming at 7:30 am saturday and a bbq for The Huns best friends birthday Sat lunch. And washing to do. And shopping as well. I need Pepsi Max. I think we all know which one won't be sacrificed for study time.

• I started the CSIRO diet last week. It seems to be working as my scales showed a flat 70 this morning. Granted they are dodgy woolies ones, but I haven't seen that in a lil while. SHADDUP. 70 IS GOOD WHEN YOUR ALMOST 180cm AND HAVE MARTIAL ARTS MUSCLES. *HUMPH*

• Unfortunately, afore mentioned diet means that whilst dining at Hogs Breath with friends tonight, I will have to lean towards this:

Chicken Dijonnaise
Marinated grilled chicken breast topped with sliced avocado and smothered
with creamy dijon mustard sauce. Served with lashings of mashed potato
or Hog Tail fries and fresh vegetables.

or this:

Fish of the Day
Check out the specials board. This dish changes like the tide. We use fresh fish whenever possible.

Rather than this:

and this:

or one of these:

and this:*curses cocktail dress that is planned to be worn for wedding over
New Years in swanky Brisbane resort*

• I still haven't got ANY marks back for my law course. Stay tuned for the law exam on friday the 18th.

• I'm starting to get excited about buying a car next year, when my lease on my 200 is done. Anyone want a super hott 200 for 18,000 in Oct 06? Sold!

• I also found that while there is something super-liberating about posting about actual real life stuff (eg, messy room!), you will still get feedback that is just as puzzling and almost disturbing as when you post about girlish flirtish fun imaginary stuff. Hmmm.

I really better start my study now.

EnnyOut.