Christmas is almost here

I've gone all christmassy, maybe it's because Ed and I didn't really have Christmas last year - we spent the day reading books and lying around on an island in Thailand, or maybe I'm just getting old and sentimental but I'm into it this year.

We've got a tree:

We've got new festive orange walls:

And we've got a motherload of pressies:

I am hosting the Browne family christmas for the first time ever. I'm really looking forward to it, although catering for 10 people meant I have had to borrow things like plates and wine glasses from my Mum. I'm still not that grown up. I'm just hoping this bloody morning sickness would bugger off. I've been throwing up for the last two mornings. This morning had great comedy timing, Ed said: "Shall we watch Mission Impossible III later today?" My response was to gag and run to the bathroom and throw up. Then again Tom Cruise will tend to do that to you.

So Chrissy lunch at my joint will be a casual affair - kind of a barbie come buffet kind of deal. No Turkey and Christmas puddings for us. Though I did get a taste of that at work the other day. My office isn't a glam place and we don't get much in the way of perks like I did in my last job but what I do get instead is a very honest, unpretentious and friendly workplace and at times just inspiring. On Thursday out of the blue, four members of the staff got together, went down to the test kitchens and cooked a full Xmas dinner for about 35 staff members. There were turkeys, whole baked fish, roast potatoes, pumpkin, beans, gravy, stuffing the works. Then they produced a giant trifle, a pavlova, xmas pudding with custard and an esky filled with beer and wine. It was such a touching gesture - and quite an amazing feat to pull off a spontaneous feast for so many of us.

Anyway - hope everyone out there has a great Christmas, those at home here in Aus and those I am thinking of who are as far flung as India, Argentina, Sweden, the UK and the USA. Have a great one X

Geez I'm gunna be a good Mum

Me to Ed: "Gee I hope I love the baby when it arrives, what if I don't?"

Ed to me: "Of course you will love the baby Browne, it will be all yours, you will love it for sure."

Me to Ed: "But do you think that I will love it as much as Chloe (the cat)?"

Ed: Stunned silence.

They're at it again

I just popped into my parents house and there on the dining table was not one but FOUR versions of my blog printed out in glorious colour. One had even been marked for the attention of my 80 year old Auntie. Are they trying to torture me? It took all my power not to turf them into the recycling on my way out the door.

Where else are they being sent? I hate to think...

Betrayal at the vets

A few months ago Ed and I became the very proud new owners of a not so new cat. Well she’s not that old but she’s a grown up cat and we inherited her. Chloe (don’t blame me I didn’t choose the name) is a beautiful Birman, a kind of fluffy Siamese with big china blue eyes. Chloe used to live with Carmen who went overseas and then went to live with someone else who also went overseas before living with Ed’s sister where she was routinely tortured by their 3 year old child before seeking refuge in her final, loving home with us.

Pig in mud is the phrase that comes to mind when I think of Chloe’s new life with us. Endless selections of food, a cat door to ensure she can come and go at will a choice of comfy laps to sit on every night, not to mention our bed to loll about on all day and night. It’s been a good life.

Well until yesterday when a bout of limping meant a trip to the vet. We popped her into her (borrowed) travel box and headed off to the vet. She went a bit fluffy, did some meowing but generally was very cool. In the waiting room Ed busied himself buying her some expensive treats and keeping her company telling her she was a good girl. What did I do? I spotted a handsome young ginger cat out the front in an enclosure. The sign above said he was in need of a home and he seemed a bit lonely and was very keen on my attentions. I petted him, cooed to him, played games with him until I felt the force of two sets of blue eyes burning holes into my back. Ed and Chloe were both staring at me with a combination on severe indignation and disgust from across the other side of the room. Oops.

When we got home Ed said “I’m appalled at your behaviour, there’s poor Chloe, she doesn’t know where she’s being taken, she might think she’s about to be eaten by monsters or something and where are you? YOU are spending all your time playing with another cat! I can’t believe your disloyalty.”

Chloe also looked appalled until I gave her some of the treats that Ed had paid for and then she just purred and rubbed against my leg. See cats understand disloyalty, its part of their nature, maybe I’m part cat?

1 + 1 equals 3

I haven't felt like blogging much lately. Partly because I've been a little disturbed - my parents have taken to my blog (which is nice) but because my mother is a luddite and refuses to use a computer my Dad prints out my blog for her to read. It then tends to take up residence on their dining room table where it can be read by anyone. What's the difference between that and the free for all that is the net I hear you ask? I'm not really sure but it feels weird and there's something a bit uncomfortable about seeing my narcissistic inane ramblings printed out in solid form for all to inspect. Someone needs to write something about blogs out of their natural enviroment I think - it's just not right.


Anyway - the other reason I haven't blogged is because I have been invaded by an alien. A strange creature that has drained me of my ability to think clearly, the ability to eat and the ability to watch anything quality on the television. Yep - I'm pregnant.

I should have known when we're at the Dubbo zoo and I kept crying at all the animals. I mean I love animals but even I thought it was weird that I was reduced to tears by the sight of some scaly looking goannas. I should have guessed something was awry when I called the rather well known publisher of a rather well known publication to conduct an interview and couldn't remember her name, the name of the person who had suggested I call or what I was calling for. I should have known when one morning Ed suggested in a mild tone that maybe I hurry up a little to head out for breakfast and I stamped my foot and screeched at him "I'll get ready in my own time YOU can fuck off!". Hmmmmmm the signs were there. The final sign something was awry was the morning I misplaced my handbag and later discovered that I stashed it in the ornamental hedge in the backyard. Things were just not normal.

A quick check of the diary went a bit further to confirm my suspicions and finally after a bit more denial I trudged off to the chemist in search of a stick to wee on. The first person I encounter on the street was a hugely pregnant woman waddling down the street wearing a t-shirt that said "knocked up". I buy the wee on a stick to see if your pregnant kit and like an embarassed teenager buying condoms I feel obliged to purchase a few other items to hide it amongst like breath mints, hair clips and a bottle of shampoo.

At home I sit with the package burning a hole in my handbag and wait for Ed. He arrives and I head off to the bathroom to do the deed. I swear that big bold blue line was already forming before I had a chance to leave it to wait and in my panic to get Ed I almost wrench the bathroom door off its hinges - there's no way I want to be in the bathroom alone with that blue line.

We contemplate the line, and parenthood together. "Ohh....wow....ohhh" is what we say to each other a lot wildly swinging between excitement and the weight of our new adult responsibility. Just to be sure we try the other stick and there it is as bold as anything a big fat blue line that screams - "oh yes - you are knocked up for sure lady, good and proper!".

Right then. Come June 8th or thereabouts Eduardo and I are going to be someones parents. Am I responsible enough? I mean I can't even drive a car!

My ipod is a lesbian

I came home the other day and Ed had my ipod connected up to the speakers at home. He was looking concerned - the problem? He had put the ipod on shuffle, turned up the volume and shortly after he let in the tradesman that's helping do some stuff to our house. What did my evil little ipod unleash on the menfolk as they discussed macho things like plumbing and painting? A glorious celebration of the musical sisterhood - kd lang, Indigo Girls, Melissa Etheridge and then just for equal measure a big fat dose of Abba....in spanish.

Ed was quite mortified. "It was fine until Peter arrived and then it just started playing lesbian music really loud, it was quite embarassing". Well Ed - you've got to realise that my gay ipod is not to be trusted.

My Gay iPod

There was an article in the Good Weekend recently about the Apple iPods celebrated shuffle function. This little command supposedly lets your iPod shuffle your vast collection of tunes and then play them at random, just like a giant jukebox. The article in the GW questioned just how random, random is as his iPod seemed to have a prediliction to some artists and tunes and a complete horror of others.

My iPod I am convinced is a 50 something gay man. I have over 2000 songs in there and a fair mix of the retro, new, cool, almost cool, daggy and plain embarassing. What does my iPod go for everytime, the campest, daggiest tunes it can dig up. Never has it ever played say, my Green Day or Radiohead albums, it says no to my indie alt country stuff by The Waifs, The Audreys and Lucinda Williams. It shakes its head at Jet, Powderfinger and Shane Nicholson.

What do I get on my shuffle? Time and time again? Dolly Parton - always. Kylie Minogue - always, Olivia Newton John circa the Xanadu era - always. I'm embarassed to admit that I have a few Elton John songs on there but my iPod isn't - he rolls them out with a frightening regularity that defies the notion of random as there are only 4 Elton tunes on there amongst the 2000 songs I have. Yet If it's true that my iPod is a older gay man I guess I should be grateful that I don't have any showtunes on there, I'd be bludgeoned to death with songs from Oklahoma and the Sound of Music.