I’ve had a loss of perspective

Oh god. Part of me just realised that it’s only Monday, and I have FOUR MORE DAYS of work fuckedness before I get to the end of Friday.

Give me strength.

And now I’m sitting here wading through my out of control inbox, failing to stop my out of control marshmallow eating, wondering how the hell I get the balance back. Because I did get it, at some point. I remember it vividly. 40 hour weeks. Wonderful, relaxing weekends (which are still there, incidentally, but it would be lovely to make it past 8PM on a Friday without falling asleep on the couch).

There are exciting things though. Some of it is butterflies in the pit of the stomach exciting. So, tonight, while I’m archiving emails and trying to get my work inbox down to double figures, I am also thinking about these things –

• I am going to be buying a HOUSE. Can you believe it?!? Bricks and a fence and a (little) garden. And do you KNOW how long I have wanted to live in and/or around Newtown?? A really, really long time. And who knew it would actually happen.
• And even BETTER (I know WHOA) I get to share this with the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I honestly feel so LUCKY when I think about us finding each other and what the two of us are creating. Together.
• That was gushy, I know. Aha I don’t care!
• Tara is coming to visit. I am so looking forward to this.
• It looks like I might be going whale watching!
• Christian won Project Runway. Ahaha I am so lame.
• It’s a hard life when one of the most pressing concerns in your personal life is whether you should drop money on an Olsen, a Shead or a Blackman. There are some amazing Australian artists out there creating amazing Australian art you know. And we will have some of it on our brand new (to us at least) walls.
• My cold is disappearing. I CAN BREATHE OUT MY NOSE. Also – a cold with no chest infection!? Naturopath – 1. Traditional medicine – 0.

I am going to write more this week. Honest. Note to self –

• Frightened Rabbit.
• Music for cleaning.
• All the noise just gets crushed by the song.

Also, my cat has figured out how to get into my bedroom while I’m asleep. Through the closed door, by turning the MF door handle. I can’t decide if he’s some sort of crazy, feline genius, or just really persistent. I actually have to ram something behind the door now to stop him coming in. I wouldn’t mind him coming in, so long as he didn’t feel the need to sleep on my FACE.


First, I can’t for the life of me understand why flannelette pyjamas aren’t socially acceptable dress for every aspect of every day. Particularly for work, and particularly hot pink ones with zebras on them.

Second, hi. I am still alive, honest. The last two weeks have utterly kicked my ass, and culminated last night in me falling asleep not only on the boy, but on his birthday. Shame on me.

Happy birthday mister – you = joy.

I’ve been more then a bit absent from the interwebs. It’s not really a ‘oh man my life is far too busy being fabulous’ thing – I’m just pulled in a few too many directions at the moment. And the one direction I want to go, the one place I want to be, is the one direction unselfishly not pulling. At least, not in that annoying way.

A feel a little like I’m tilting on a precipice. The precipice of something wonderful on one hand – the idea of owning a little house in Newtown is crystallizing into a reality that’s hard to comprehend at times. But on the other hand I’m a little nervous about losing my balance and pitching over the edge – I have a feeling, if I can’t balance everything I’ve got going on right now, it will be a looooooong way down.

One day at a time though. At least, that’s the plan. Well, that, and potentially dropping a carpet bomb on my office.

That’s a bit violent isn’t it.

I gotta find time for the music. You know how much music I’ve listened to this week? Actually, my Last FM page can tell you that – sweet fuck all. Also, the definition of frustration is wanting to hear Twist by Frightened Rabbit – like, craving the song – and not owning the album.

Oh, wait. Let’s all thank the intertron gods for MySpace. And Fat Cat Records for their online ordering facility.

Driving home tonight (well, driving to work) I had all intentions of a well-written, eloquent and profound post that was at least 3 pages long. I guess two thirds of a disjointed, random bunch of words is better then nothing. Right?

The day before Friday

Bad = Dine discontinuing the only kind of cat food that your bratty cat likes to eat. Little dude is just going to have to suck it up and eat whatever other stuff I can find that resembles it. He doesn’t like anything that has chunks and/or gravy. He likes his meat all meatloaf-like. God damn it.

I would really love to find a way to buy extra hours in your day. Or trade or barter for more time. I’d easily trade these strawberries I have here, or some old LOOK magazines for an extra hour tonight. I’ve only just now sat down to really spend some time listening to music and what not, and it’s already past 11. I want to finish listening to this Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy album, and I want to iron my clothes for tomorrow, and I want to make sure I have stuff together for the weekend, and I want to watch the rest of Antiques Roadshow.

Really, though, I should go to bed. I’m feelin’ a bit scratchy tonight and I know I need sleep.

I cannot form words around my relief about the fact that tomorrow is Friday. This week has been insane at work, for a number of reasons, and it only promises to get worse. Workload wise that is. How can it be so hard to find a good admin person? It seems that cheerfulness and competence don’t exist in the same person at that level. You get one or the other.

I’m SO not sleepy. And now it’s almost midnight (and no, my typing speed isn’t that slow. I got distracted). But I ought to sleep.

Have a good weekend everyone.

You sing me back into myself

There is a surefire way to tell when this girl feels like she’s losing some control over the environment around her –

I’ve spent tonight making lists.

I used to be an enormous list maker. Hell, I used to make a list of the lists I needed to make. It was the only way I felt like I had a handle on things, because I always felt like I was spinning just the smallest bit out of control. I’m not sure when that stopped, but I think it was about 6 months ago. I had about 10 lists on the go when I moved, and since then I’ve phased every one of them out. Except the shopping list. A girl needs a shopping list.

I’m not sure if the lack of lists recently has been indicative of me feeling more control in general of my life and the direction it’s taking, or if I’m less busy then I was. I’m actually thinking it’s the former, which is a little reassuring. Still, the current flux of more than one thing in my life has me giving away, yet again, to the list making.

But it’s only two lists. That’s not so bad, right? If you have two things in your life that are heading toward major change, or potentially heading toward major change, then you gotta have a plan. I’m a little chaotic without a plan. And now is not the time for chaos.

In other news, I’ve spent a lot of tonight listening to the new Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy album. Will Oldham has a way of breaking things down to their most human and organic parts – songs about love and relationships and sex and sleeping in the rain remind you of the things the world really revolves around. It’s not DIAC deadlines or office politics or numbers or fuel prices – it’s partners and family and friends and just generally your people. And if it’s not about that, then what’s the point? Listening to this album tonight I’m feeling comfort.


Things are about to get very, very interesting.

If it’s okay with everyone, I’d just like to skip Friday and head straight into Saturday.

All in favour say AYE.

Tonight –

• Bowie has almost disappeared behind the couch cushions altogether.
• I have watched a total of 3 TV shows about buying houses and/or renovating.
• I have realised it’s only when you begin seriously looking at real estate yourself that you notice just how many of these house/renovation shows there are. A lot. In case you were wondering.
• I am determined to go to bed before 11.
• I have drank 750mls of mineral water that is apparently ‘bottled from an ancient Italian source’. It was on sale for 49 cents at the supermarket.
• I have listened to over two hours of Modest Mouse and Okkervil River. Good for the soul it is.
• I am running out of ideas of what to cook with brown rice.
• I am looking forward to eating bread again. At some point. In the future.
• I am counting the hours until 7 on Friday.
• The night air smells amazing.
• I mustn’t forget to peg out the washing that is sitting in the machine.
• I actually kinda fancied a glass of wine. But it’s only me here, and well, once you open a bottle there’s no point leaving any, right? Aha. So I didn’t. Open one that is.
• I am excited about the future.

I’ll build a house inside of you

Sunday nights I’m always contemplative. I think a lot of it comes from being on my own after a week of work insanity and a weekend of company. If I’m left to my own devices too long my head gets very active. And there’s a lot going on right now for it to think about.

I phoned my Ma tonight, for the obligatory Mothers Day call. I’d been trying to get her all afternoon but she can be a difficult woman to pin down. Her house is under siege by guests right now, but she managed to find some time to talk to me tonight. My conversation with her hammered home how much everything is changing. Particularly for her. What I realise more and more through life is your most of your days are made up of the people that you surround yourself with. I found out, necessarily, that I could live a good and worthy life on my own. I have since then realised I can life a joyful and magnificent life surrounded by people that I love. She is losing a great many people right now – geographically, mainly, but also emotionally. Mothers Day is still tough for her since Nan passed away, but Tara moved to Canberra in February, Hayley moved to Batemans Bay last week, and now Jodie is moving next week to Tasmania. She’s feeling the pull of time right now and tonight she sounded decidedly down about it.

Mental note to call the mother more than once this week and to find a time to go to Wagga.

There’s moving on my horizon too and I can’t even tell you how excited I am about it. Each and every time I’ve moved it’s changed my life dramatically, and this one will be no different. It IS different though, in other ways.

The first move, to Sydney, I did for someone else, and even though it didn’t end in happily ever after, it is part of the reason I’m here right now so I should be thankful for that. The second move was devastation personified, and it took me a really long time to get over. The third move was for completely wrong reasons – I was lost and scared and desperate to find and sink myself into anything that was familiar. I didn’t know myself or trust myself enough for anything else. The forth move was sad, and my hand was forced, and although I felt no less lost and scared, I knew it was for the best. The fifth move again, my hand was forced. Had it not been, I might still be living with Amanda in Wilberforce. Having said that, it did mark the start of something – it was a step toward living on my own, and I made the choice to forge a life for myself in that little flat up on the hill.

The sixth move, the most recent move, was a bold step into the unknown. It was me WANTING the change, and it was me knowing exactly WHAT I wanted, and that was the first time I had ever experienced that in my life and consequently acted on it. There was no reason for the move other then me wanting it. I wanted the extra space. I wanted a cat. I wanted my own yard and my own utilities and my own responsibility for my life. And that whole three months surrounding the move had this mammoth life force surrounding it – it was like when I signed the lease all the air started sucking from one end of my life and I was being dragged through a vacuum whether I liked it or not. And it was all wonderful, but it left me a bit breathless.

This move will be very different. I think I’ve finally hit on something – you can be one of two, and you can be part of a team, and yet you can still get what you want. You don’t have to compromise who you are or what you dream to share your life with someone. In fact, the joy comes from sharing it. If you can find someone who has the same heart that you do for the really important things, then a lot of stuff ceases to matter. Everything else will work itself out.

31 year old Karen wants to go back to 25 year old Karen and alternately smack her and hug the life out of her. I feel so bad for the person I was then, and I wish at the time I’d had someone like Hell or 31 year old me to wake me up a little. It took me a really long time to figure out what I wanted, and the revelation is to me that the second I did that, or realised that, my ducks seemed to fall into a row. I mean, it’s not all puppies and ponies from here until the end of the universe, I’m sure of it. But I feel like it’s all going to be okay.

Everything will work itself out. I feel like it’s all going to be okay. I read these sentences that I’ve written and there’s a little voice inside of me that goes WHOA. I think the girl is growing up at last.


Aha, guess who bought a new USB cable? Me, that’s who. And it’s a minor miracle, given the combined technical ineptitude of both myself and my trusty salesman at Dick Smith Windsor, that I got the right one. So, woo!

And wow, there were a lot of photos on the camera. Firstly, about a million of me trying to catch Bowie looking as ridiculous as possible. Quite seriously, this is how he sleeps –

He sorta lets himself fall down between the cushions on the couch, points his legs to the sky, and sometimes he snores. If he were a person he’d wear flannel and drink XXXX.

There were also pictures of a crazy looking spider that set up residence over the front door of my house for the whole of the summer. It’s not there now – it retreated to where spiders go for the winter about 3 weeks ago. It was a nightly exercise though – dodging the super-thick web and at times the spider itself, who when building its web wasn’t really all that worried about where I was in the whole exercise. Warning people who were visiting was priceless – ‘Uh, you just have to watch out for the spider web and the spider over the door. Wait there.’ And so I would go and turn the porch light on, and there would just be gapping mouths all around. Aha. I have no idea what sort of spider it was –

But yes. Massive. And yellow. And awesome.

And then there was the Sunday afternoon when I got home early-ish, and it was one of those times where the light is pouring through the house in the most wonderful and warm late afternoon way. I have this red cabinet in the corner of the room that my Mum gave me, and on top of it is where (for now) I keep wine. Next to it, on this particular afternoon, was a candle holder my sister gave me for Christmas year before last. And the colours on the wall were so beautiful.

So now I actually have a USB cable, brace yourselves for regular Karen’s World updates. I bet you can’t hardly wait.

Names and dates and times

Dear school ‘friend’ who found me on Facebook,

I am a pretty friendly person. Having said that, I’m not the sort to go randomly friending people on a social networking site just because I went to school with them. At some point. Somewhere. You are clearly that kind of person, and all the power to you, but here’s the thing – I couldn’t for the life of me remember who you were. I read your name, even out loud, and my brain gave a great big huh? in return. I looked at your photo, and not even a glimmer of recognition. I even began to wonder if you actually attended the same high school I did. But then, you’ve been communicating with other people I KNOW I went to school with, along those lines, so there you go. You must have been there. And you obviously left an enormous impression on my psyche.

I ummed and ahhed about hitting ‘Confirm’, but I did. I became your ‘friend’, even though I have probably never spoken an actual word to you. It was curiosity more then anything else, but even given the benefit of your full profile page I am none the wiser.

But here’s a tip – if you’re looking to get back in touch with a person you once knew (or didn’t know as the case may be), probably the first thing you DON’T do is virtually tickle them on a social networking site. At least not without saying hello first, dig? Because every time you tickle me, hug me, kiss me, sucker punch me or invite me to play virtual strip poker, I am going to hit IGNORE. It’s just annoying. And it clogs up my inbox with alerts that I could really do without. It makes me want to drop a bomb on my Facebook profile. Which would be a shame, because Hell updates her profile with a new picture of Deakin every other day and that’s the sort of shit I look forward to.

Anyway, just so you know, you’ve become the internet equivalent of our old photocopy tech, who was overly familiar, asked at least 3 of us out at random times over a few years and every time he came to service our copier stood in front of my desk talking, for what felt like forever, about the most boring shit you could imagine. Just so you know.

Please. Just stop.



Dear Cadbury,

You bought me Old Gold 70% dark chocolate, and for that I am forever grateful.

Much love,


Dear herbal tonic,

OH MY GOD what the hell are you made of because I swear to god I smell you in my clothes and on my hands and in my car AND I JUST CAN’T GET RID OF THE TASTE IN MY MOUTH.

But my chest feels better. So thanks for that.



Whenever you breathe out, I breathe in

If socialising and community is boiling down to, as ‘they’ say, Facebook and other internet SNS (social networking sites – I am so up on the lin-go) then the whole world is heading toward a metaphorical hell.

And that’s all I have to say about that. For now at least.

Yesterday I ran smack into the intersection where traditional medicine meets natural medicine, and I gotta say – it raised some interesting questions. I’ve never, ever liked doctors, but that one time when a doctor prescribed me three courses of increasingly strong antibiotics to get rid of a persistent chest infection, thus landing me belly up in a hospital bed, really didn’t help that. Since then I’ve steered clear almost completely, with the exception of completely unavoidable things. Like that time I thought I had meningitis.

I hedged my bets this time, and made an appointment for both. The naturopath had the upper hand, because she had her appointment first. And I went, and she loaded me up with a lot of bad smelling and HORRIBLE tasting herbal stuffs. She looked at my blood, and she told me what she thought was wrong with me. Tired white blood cells for one. Poor little buggers are all tuckered out.

Long story short (as much as I’m sure my lung health is riveting for you all, let’s try and be succinct) – I cancelled my doctors appointment. She told me she could make me feel like a new person in 2 weeks. I sure as hell hope so, because I wouldn’t want to be drinking raw egg smoothies with wheat germ (read: protein deficiency) and drinking a herbal concoction that tastes like DEATH three times a day for nothing. You know, when you DON’T smoke, and you NEVER DID, you’re not supposed to have these problems. Right? Right.

So in two weeks I’ll either be bouncing off the walls with happy lungs and over the top energy (god help us all) or I will be getting a chest x-ray. Let’s hope it’s not emphysema.