Build an ark!

Remember what I said about the weather being absolutely lovely in my last-ish post? Well, Murphy being my personal patron saint, the last two days have been WET. With a capital "WET".

How wet? Well, today in court, it rained so hard we had to stand down, because the drumming on the roof was so loud the magistrate couldn't hear a thing, and all I was getting on the recordings was rain sound. There was also a fairly major leak in the foyer - water was pouring into the Legal Aid room and the toilets - and for a while there it looked like we were going to have to swim for it. Luckily for me it had cleared by home time - I'd already gotten wet yesterday. Just another indication of how badly we need the new building - April, they're telling us.

Had myself a rather post-y day yesterday; I mailed stuff to Sascha and Hly and also Ki and Laer's wedding giftie-thing. My surprise plan from the Aussies as a whole had to be abandoned due to lack of respsonse *looks pointedly at the rest* but I think what I sent will go down well. Provided it gets through customs. Hopefully my sense of humour won't jeopardise it getting to where it has to - this will make sense later, when Ki sees what I wrote on the box.

***

I was reflecting on colour and light as I was walking back from the shop tonight after getting some milk. BRM went to an art exhibition last weekend and brought home a leaflet - in it, the artist describes the unique quality of the light up here. It's true. I remember as a teenager taking endless photos, trying to capture the clarity of the light at sunset, that glorious glow that makes you feel like you're bathed in gold. It's more pronounced after the rain - the shades of pink and gold in the sky tonight made my throat ache, they were so beautiful. It's sights like these that make me wish I could paint, or draw, or had a decent camera - words just can't encompass it, can't fully capture the sheen of the eucalyptus leaves as the sun hits them, or the sheer depth of the sky at night, when you look up and feel like you could fall upwards into a sea of stars.

I used to write poetry when I was younger - mostly abyssmal teen angst - but the better stuff was when I tried to describe what I saw around me. Clumsy, but still, it had promise. I'm still kicking myself I did one of my purges and trashed the lot in a fit of self-criticism.

Ye gods, I'm tired. Long day today, this Wednesday is a hump day in more ways than one - I got my period yesterday, and the first full day always wipes me out. Once I'm past the Wednesday, I'm usually okay. At least the cramps are back to normal; I really don't want a repeat of the last time! Which reminds me, I ought to make a doctor's appointment, get a few things checked out, see if I can't get this mutant freckle on my cheekbone removed - damn thing's grown since Dexcon with all the sun I got there, and I'm getting tired of people asking me if I've had it checked for skin cancer. The answer is "yes, frequently, it's just a mutant freckle." *rolls eyes and makes a mental note to ring the doctor tomorrow* I could kill two birds with one stone and get my ankle checked out - it's still painful after turning it back in... September? Not good.

Time to wander off - I'm getting the munchies and dinner won't make itself, more's the pity. Time to stand in front of an open fridge in the hopes something leaps out, screaming, "Eat me, eat me!", cause I sure as hell have no idea what to make. ;)

Fair Dinkum.

Someone posted this to the Tripe J LJ Community, and I thought I'd share. JJJ is, for those who don't live here, a national alternative-ish radio station, the only _decent_ station I can get up here.

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Here are just some of the beliefs that make Aussies unique:

Beer should be served so cold it makes your ears hurt.

It’s not a genuine Australian saying unless it involves a paddock, lizard or rat.

Your best friend is "a total bastard", while your worst enemy is "a bit of a bastard".

A hamburger must contain beetroot.

Our national character is such that we cry during the first verse of the national anthem, but can’t remember the words of the rest.

People with red hair are always nicknamed blue.

Every surname, brand name and car spare part must be shortened to the point of incomprehension, as in "If I hadn’t stuffed the diff I’d have taken Blacky to Maccas."

It’s not summer until barefoot kids dance a wild corroboree every time they cross the road.

All parties, in however grand and well prepared a house, will be held cramped and noisy, in the kitchen.

In beach cricket, the person who hits the ball into the water shall score runs, but also cop social disapproval.

A gumleaf, crushed in the hand is the best smell ever.

There’s no event that can’t be improved by the addition of sausage sizzle.

Two weeks after a trip to the beach, grains of sand will suddenly and inexplicably appear in your bed.

We invented everything in the world worth inventing, but then sold the patents to the Yanks.

There comes a time in every Australian's life when you realise the Aerogard is far, far worse than the flies.

Spreading toast with a black salty spread, with the appearance of axle grease, is widely viewed as a good way to start the day.

It’s only money.

Kids, upon burying their father in the sand, shall always give him breasts larger than that of their mother.

When you are seven years old - and wanting to fly - the Hills Hoist is wasted on washing.

We become more Australian the further away we travel from home.

Ugg boots are the height of fashion when walking down main streets of foreign countries.

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*snickering madly* It's funny 'cause it's true. ;)