At My Desk Tonight

It is so quiet here at home. As i sit at my desk I
hear the occasional sigh from the tiny dog and one of the cats having a little wash. No TV, no radio and no traffic. I find it difficult to believe I am living near the middle of Auckland. I can hear a wheelie bin rumbling down a long driveway in the distance. Although my house is only small it feels huge tonight. I only take up a tiny corner here. I wonder how many other people I could fit in right now?


Time for another coke zero, last one before bed I think. I don't want to stay awake all night on a caffeine high. Ahh, that gassy click as the can opens! It is cold and delicious! I have done a lot today. Most of it boring but at least it is done. I have walked the dog, put the bins out done a mountain of washing stretching to the sky, changed the bed, patted the cat and cooked a hot meal for my husband and I to eat at lunch.

He is out in the cold working tonight, helping the broken down motorists on their way. He sees a lot in his work. He works in small dark corners of peoples lives and gets then moving. Some thank him some don't. He has been doing it for years and has more years to go yet. I miss him when he goes to work. Times are tough at the moment though. I am looking for a job again as I can no longer make a living from Trade me. It was fun while it lasted of course. In fact I would have to say that selling on Trade Me was the very best job I have had. Certainly no where near the highest paid, but the best. It makes me sad that i have to give it all up.

Which brings me to my next question. The recession, what is it? Why did it have to happen? It has messed me up. Money is in short supply but bills are plentiful. I am glad that the only debt we have is a monthly car payment. We got rid of our credit cards over a year ago and do not owe any one else anything. But it is not easy paying the rent each week and buying food and all the boring usuals we all have to deal with. Normally when Jim is on lates I relax and watch TV and make him cups of tea if he comes home for his half hour break. But not tonight! Tonight its all about jobs and grubbing around under the virtual couch cushions for cash! It's very sad and I don't like it! I have applied for 48 jobs so far, I really think that number 48 will be my big break! So I thought I would take a moment and share this, so others out there who are feeling a bit below par can know you are not alone. This is not a whine or a cry for sympathy, just the facts as they stand on July 19 2009. Have a good night!

Another thing I love is my Dog.

He is small and warm. He is black and scruffy. He lets me cuddle him and he nudges me with his tiny short nose. He sits behind me while I am working and I can hear him snoring. He likes fluffy toys and has a wagging tail.

I didn't always love him though. I had a business with my friend Tracey. We sold sunglasses for dogs. Doggles. Neither of us had dogs. In fact i had never had a dog only cats. My other friend had a British Bulldog puppy called Annie and she was cute and snuffly and I sometims dog sat her for an hour or two. Because of Annie I changed my opinion on dogs and wanted one.

I went to the petshop to get something for my cat. In the glass cabinet was a tiny black ball of fluffy with a kind of smacked in face! I held it and it loved me. I wanted it with all my heart.

I had to ask the Landlord if I could get a dog and I got a non-committal type answer. I though buggar it I am going to get one.

I kept an eye out on Trade me for this breed, Affenpinscher. Within a couple of weeks there he was! There was him and his brother! I made an appointment to go and see them. By the time Jim and I arrived his brother was sold. The lady that had him had another dog, loads of cats and birds and four kids ranging in age from six days to four years old. I held him and he shook. I put him down and some little Mofo up-ended a box of metal cars on his head. I knew I had to take him.

We took him home with his crate. He shook all the way. We stopped at the supermarket and got him a bed and a back of dog food. From there the nightmare begun.

We got him home and he went and took a huge dump in the bathroom. By morning he was covered in pooh and wee. This was my life for eight months! But after three weeks I was ready to jump off a bridge. I did not know what to do with him and he hated me or so I thought! He shook all day and ate not much of anything. He crapped every where and bit me!

I put him up for sale on Trade Me and got loads of replies. I had all but made up my mind that the Waihi oldies could have him then it dawned on me. A puppy is for life. I wanted to make it work, I needed to! I withdrew the ad and Jim and I went and registered him. That same night we went to puppy pre-school and he had a fantastic time. The class ran from seven till 8.30pm. We left there at about 10.30pm! The ladies there whose lives were dogs helped us no end.

Within 24 hours there was a huge improvement in both me and my little friend. After eight months of rules, boundaries and limitataions I realised I had a friend for life!

I truly love my little dog. He keeps me fit and makes me laugh. I can't leave him to go and work on commission for some sneaky mofo!

I love my job! No, I REALLY love it!

I do love my job! Do many people love their jobs? I don't think they do love them.

My job is selling clothes on Trade Me. I am employed by me. Everything I do is for me. I sell for me, I write ads for me and I shop for me. How selfish of me.

If I want to I can give myself the day off. Though usually I don't want to. I love the Trade Me website i think it is very cool. If i win Big Wednesday (as if!) tonight I will still sell on Trade Me. Poor Sonia at the Accountant's Office will still have to sort out my GST and look after my tax affairs.

Through my job I have made some friends too. Some I have never met but they write to me and we have nice chit-chats and share photos and e-mails. Some I have met too. One is moving away to Sydney soon as he is not happy in Auckland. Another sells on TradeMe as well but not as much as she used too. She has other Trade Me related business to keep her busy though. If it were not for this fantastic yellow website I would not know her and that would be sad.

There would be a lot of fat chicks out there without jeans too. Yes naked fat ladies freezing or covering up their ample behinds in the dreaded track-pant! By the way if you think I am being insulting I am not. I used to be a BIIIIIIIIIG FAT LADY! Now, I am just a bit chubby.

Any way back to me. Things have not been going to well for me in the sales department on TradeMe. I think my customers have all run out of money and have dug into their wardrobes and hooked out the trackies again! I am sad about this because it means I am in the unenviable position of having to look for paid employment.

I thought to myself this morning while I was standing in the shower at 7am to get ready for a job interview how sad this is. I have finally found a job that i truly love, a job that is like a family member in my house. It goes: Chocolate, Jim, Allison, Shortie, Puff, Marlie, the big screen TV and little TradeMe. And I am at the point of it all going up in a puff of smoke! Nobody wants my shit! I have re-invented my trading self over and over in recent times and it is just not working. People have other choices. I have upped my prices, lowered them, had one dollar reserves and more. I know every nook and TradeMe cranny! I honestly believe that if anyone can be successful selling on Trade Me it would be me. Yet at the moment no!

I went to the job interview and filled out an invasive personal details form that was peppered with spelling mistakes. (Yes I know, pot kettle black! But I am a blogger not an employer so get over it!) The man when he called me yeaterday told me I had a "Novel" CV! I am glad he found it so fucking amusing but I really can't see what is funny about a one page basic CV that cuts though the bull shit. The job is not for me. It is commission only for a kick off. It involves a lot of sneaky stuff and eill take up a lot of my time for the possiblity of no return, so i am thinking its a no. I guess the last straw was when one of the interviewers told me about "The fat girl" he had hired last week! The fat girl is doing well there by the way and still works there. But I thought it was a "Novel" description! I guess we are even now mister!

It occured to me though that not only do I love Trade Me and everything about it, but I kind of fancy myself as well. Well I must! I think deep down that only arseholes write blogs, people who want to get out there and tell the world they are the big I AM! So maybe it is a case of if you can't beat them, join them! I often day dream. I think about all the things I would be good at doing and how I could be the very best in the world at certain tasks! While I am day dreaming I truly believe that there is no one better than I!! I am the best cook EVER! The best writer EVER! I see lots of jobs and think : "Oh fuck, I could do that with my eyes closed!" But the truth is I couldn't probably. It is just a dream, all of it! I do think that if some one some where would give me a chance i would be an excellent film star, rock star, (can't sing) TV presenter, radio host, chef, dog trainer, news letter writer, event organiser and on and on and on!

But deep down i know its all a dream. I do think that I am good at Trade Me though and here's hoping for a big economic upsurge so I can stay at home on my computer in my pyjamas and do what I love for the rest of my life!!!

I LOVE YOU TRADEME! XXXX

My Dad Bought a Lotto Ticket!

My sister rang me this morning from work. She told me that Dad had left a garbled message on her answerphone about Lotto. She wanted to know if I had gone halves in a ticket with him and he had called the wrong sister to see if he was a millionaire. I told her no, not me! So we discussed the possibility that he was senile and had bought some imaginary lotto tickets with his imaginary Lotto tickets with his imaginary daughters. Since she was at work I told her that I had to go and walk my little black pot-scrubber and when I got home I would call the old man and report back to her regarding his senilty level. Here is what happened:


I rang John.

What he wanted to know is what did he need on his own ticket to win Lotto.
He did not thonk he bought a ticket with one of us. (A good start, no resthome this week!)

He bought a power ball ticket and forgot what you need to win because he had not purchased a lotto ticket for a very long time.

Now remember, he bought a POWER BALL TICKET.

He checked his ticket.

He got three numbers and the bonus number! Woo Hoo! Rejoice!!!!!

Three numbers plus the bonus = division six!!! 25 big ones! YAY!!!!!!

But he said: "No, no, no NO!" "I got $54!!!!!!!"

I said: "How do you figure that?" I said: "For sure, 3 numbers and the bonus is division six and 25 big ones, i have it here in front of me at my lotto on the internet"

"NOOOOOOOPPPAAHHH!" "I got $54!"

"I don't get it?" "How did you get $54?"

"I bought a Powerball ticket." "It says division six on Powerball tickets $54!"

"A-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!" "Did you get the Powerball number as well then?"

"What do you mean?" "I got a Powerball ticket!"

"Yes I know." "To get the $54 you need to have three numbers + bonus + POWERBALL NUMBER!!!!!" :Buying a ticket does not automatically upgrade your prize you know, you have to have the matching number!" "So look on your ticket and you will see a column that says Powerball, if it has a number 10 in it then you have $54!"

"Oh I see." (pause) "Oh yea well I knew that, huh-ha." "Yea I know that of course."

"So did you get the Powerball number?"

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh, No." "Ahhhhhhhh, well I don't think so, I will have to check again."

(Trys not to laugh) "Yea well if you didn't then you have division six $25.00."

"Oh, OK, never mind." "What do I need to do to buy one of the other Wednesday ones??........."


[Boring rave about Big Wednesday by me here.]

"By the way, Mr. Fee just chased a stray cat off the stairs!" "Man he is fierce!" "A really ferocious boy!................."

A-hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Glasses. Part two of a Journey.

Like I said, I went for an eye test yesterday. I went to a place in New Lynn called Spec's Savers. I did not go alone. My charming husband came along as well, he already has glasses, but things had changed for him and he too needed an eye test.

We arrived about ten minutes early and the assitant took more details and took us one by one to a pre screening room. Jim was first. While he was in there I strted to try on all the frames I thought may suit. I started in the cheapest section first. They were foul. I moved to the next section up, and had two possibilities. Then the next price bracket and a few more options. I then got a pamphlet with tips about getting glasses frames to suit with a picture of Gok Wan on the front. It was packed with one sentence wonders about skin tome, face shape, make up, nose placement and more! After reading it I decided I needed to look for long gold-metal-plastic-angular-black-clolouful-square-round frames! I should also give up on eye shadow, get new lipstick, move my nose, get a tan, grow my hair and lose weight off my cheeks! I am afraid Gok was screwed up in a ball and shoved carelessly in my large handbag!

Then it was my turn for the pre-screen. Puffs of air blasted into each eye-ball. I had to look at a road and a hot air balloon. I had to press a button when I saw a flicker. Not too bad!

Then back to try on more frames. This time I tried on a pair of ROXY Brand frames. OUTSTANDING! Very cool! I liked them! I still didn't want them but so far they were the best by a country mile. $589. Typical, the most expensive in store. I was dis-heartened so i sat down again to read the Spec-Saver clear price policy. I found it was full of hooks and barbs. Extra for this and that, two pair frame deal which included one pair of lenses? WTF???? Damn this was going to empty my already recessionised bank account!

Jim finished his eye test. He looked miserable. I did not have time to stop and chat because I was up next. I sat down and was asked some standard Questions. One was about drugs i took. i mentioned the first one, Metformin. I take this not for diabetes which most folk take it for but another condition, polycystic ovaries. Well my optician just loved that! I spent ten minutes giving her a symptom by symptom report on what it was to have this condition! I didn't want too! I wanted my Gaoddam eye test so I kept trying to give her the abridged version. It didn't work.

I learned all about her. Her nationality, age menstual cycle amount of body hair how her Mum died and on and ON! Oh my GOD! Get me out of this HELL in a Mall! I even got a dose of Bible bashing too! Apparently if I pray hard enough I will be able to have children! Miracles happen! Medicle ones and ones ordained by the Big Bloke in the Sky! One of her clients who had "Two drops a year!" (Again OMG!!!!!! I DON'T CARE!) prayed so hard she got three babies! Bloody hell! There is hope for my middle aged self yet! One problem though. I don't believe. So I guess its a no baby for me!

Any way on to the eye test FINALLY! It felt like it took about 2 minutes yet i had been trapped in that room for a life time! PRESBYOPIA! That is what I have! I sighed inwardly. I KNEW IT! I am old and blind and my life is finished!!!!!!

So next I said "What does that mean?" She said to me that it meant that I am at the very beginning of needing to hold the page further back to see it. Oh. is that it? Then she said, glasses blah, blah, blah, glasses, blah, blah! I listened intently. My vision was what? "EXCELLENT!" Really? But I have this presbyopia thing? She said yes, you need low magnification glasses for reading! I asked her if the $20 warehouse ones would do. She said YES!!!!!!!!! She added a discalimer that i would be better off getting a prescription pair to my exact specification. But I am sure that is just to cover her tiny ass! So I clarified, glasses were optional at this stage. She agreed but warned me in another two or so years I would need real ones!

A reprieve! I can pretend to be less old for another full two years! Maybe my life is not so bad after all! Maybe I won't be washed up by January the 15th when I turn 40! Maybe there is still time to do something useful after all!

This morning I could not wait to get my bum to the cheap Asian shop in Three Kings. I found what i needed for the princely sum of $4.00 for two pairs!!!!!! One for my desk and one for my bag. They don't look that bad either!

Life is on the up I think!

Glasses. Part one of a journey.

I am 39 and a half years old. Some people say thats not that old, but I feel reasonably old. I know I am not ready for a rest home yet, but many opportunities are no longer available to me.

I can no longer join the Army or the Police force. My prime years for having a career have passed. I am really a bit long in the tooth to have any kids now. I could, but it will be harder.

All of that makes me sad actually. I don't know why though, because I do not want to join the Army and I am to lazy to fitten up and be a Cop. I wouldn't mind a baby, but then I may be a bad mother. As for the career, I am not a finisher. I never finished my degree. I have five papers left to go. But I am over it. I know I won't finish it because it won't help me. I don't have a regular job even. I am a Trade me seller and even that is pretty crap at the moment.

I haven't got a lot of money. I don't own a home and I have no money for my old age. Some days I feel like I don't really do a lot of any value in society. When I die, I won't have changed History and I will leave nothing behind. I want to be buried at sea and sleep with the fishes! I figure that at the very most my friends will remember me for about three years after I am gone. But they will be past the point of tears after a couple of weeks.

None of this is because I am nasty or unhelpful. It is all because I am having an eye test today. I can't see close up any more. Being the morbid creature I am sometimes it has made me stop and think about things. My life is about half over and I haven't really done much with it. And now on top of that I need glasses.

I have had some very valuable experiences in my life though. But they are only valuable to me. I have had some awful jobs that have lead me to meet strange and violent people. I have been kicked and smacked and whacked and more. My reward? GLASSES! I don't want glasses. Glasses = fail. A lot of my friends have glasses and they suit them too. My husband has the most pairs of glasses in NZ actually and they make him look sexy and knowledgeable. My friend who is a student has glasses, she looks confident modern and chic. My friend who is a scientist has glasses. She looks Brainy, edgy and classy!

None of this helps me though. Glasses are going to make me old and older. Sorry for the downer but this is me. It is how I feel right now at this very moment. Maybe after the test I will feel better and drop the mid-life loser attitude!

Dad's Cat

My Dad has this cat. It is black and white and scruffy and he loves it. He REALLY loves it! It is called Felix or Mr. Fee. It has half a tail with a nasty hard scab on the end that the vet said is fine. It has a lump in it's back and it crabs when it walks. Felix cannot see at all well so tends to bite and scratch strangers.

But not Dad. Dad can do what he likes to his beloved pet. He can stroke it down the length of it's back, flip it upside down, scratch it's ears and God knows what else! He reckons it is like a dog. He said that it hops in his bed each night and he makes it go to the corner by pointing at the corner. He thinks this is the best cat in the world!

My sister and I had a short discussion about this man-cat relationship earlier in the week. We both decided that he loves Mr. Fee more than he loves us! He always has a Felix story to thrill us with. In fact he told me on Saturday that Mr. Fee's whiskers were: "two hundred and forty mil long!" It was almost like a challange!

On Sunday I visited the home of my parents to help the old man carry a lazy boy chair in the house. He got back from Blockhouse Bay and we wrestled the chair indoors with the "help" of my Mother, who gave us a lot of "useful" instructions! Once in place, he sat in his chair. Then his face changed and looked around behind him saying to Mum: "How is the cat?" I knew then that the cat was his one true love, his soul mate if you will. He never used to come home from work and ask after my sister or my self!

He actually admitted once that he never wanted children and in the heat of an arguement with my Mother he siad that their lives were ruined because of the "Two ball's and chain's" tied around their neck." He used to call us: "The Beasties." He called other peoples kids Beasties as well. He told us not that long agao he really preferred us now we were grown up.

I don't mind actually. It will make me feel less guilty when I dump his ass a resthome! But seriously, I don't mind. At least he was honest about it. Maybe it was because he was an only child of older parents. His mum was severley disabled. In the 14 years and nine months I knew her, she left the house four times. The fourth occasion it was in a body bag. One was a trip to hospital, one was for a drive to Howick, and she once came to our house on Christmas day. All four trips were huge dramas.

I am glad though that my old Dad can get such great comfort and pleasure from a grumpy, short tailed long whiskered cat that narrowly escaped a one way car ride to the SPCA!

Soda Pop, Fizzy, Soft Drink.

I just love this stuff. People don't understand how much I love it. They look at me like I am a full on Mofo!

As a kid I would be given the occasional glass of Leed. It was delicious. Sweet, cold and fizzy and it made me happy.

My dad got a big glass bottle out one day when I was about six and was still learning to read properly. I asked for a glass and he said no. It had the words "serve chilled" on the side. My eyes widened as I read it! I rushed over to Dad and said: "Look Dad!" "It says serve child!!!!!!!" He was so impressed he gave me a glass!

Once I hit the age of 11 and was in the full grip of obesity I wanted fizzy even more. It lightened my heart when I drank it. Mum bought us cans of TAB Cola, Fresca Lemon and I can't remember the name of the diet lemonade. Even though it was diet it was delicious! I drank up large.

When I was 15 I had a part time job and earned about $27 a week. I spent a lot on coke. I loved coke more than any food. I had a weight loss surgery at age 14 and it rendered me unable to eat more than an egg cup full of normal food. I made up my lost calories in coke, cereal, ice cream sweets and chocolate. All delicious! Needless to say I did not shift a heck of a lot of fat in that time!

At age 22 I was still the size of a bus so had another surgery. I drank oceans of sparkling duet and deep spring for a couple of years. I also lost all of my weight to. The operation I had allowed me to eat any amount of crap i wanted and still stay thin. I was overjoyed! I drank around seven cans of coke a day. I drank some lemon flavoured fizzies as well as that.

I was worried that my teeth would rot out of my head. Not enough to stop me though, I just used a straw so it didn't get all ofer my front teeth!

I must have drunk my way through an ocean of this sweet sticky delight in the next 14 years. Going through short periods of "givin up" that never lasted. I got married and found my husband loved coke too. We drunk it daily and on days off in summer hourly. I don't think I have ever been sick of it.

You have to understand it from my point of view I suppose. Here is how it goes: I open a chilled can of coke, it makes a gassy click and a chuff as it opens. It feels cold in my hand. I lift it up to my face and pace it under my nose as I open my mouth, I catch a faint whiff of the caramel sweetness. I have a sizeable gulp. I feel bubbles coursing down my through and the back of my tongue drops in tempreture. As I move the can away from my mouth I feel the bubbles popping on my tongue and gums. I can taste the cola flavour and the sweetness of it too. The caffiene is a bonus, I feel like I can go on with my life for another day. I am no longer thirsty. The first mouthful of every new can is the best. Don't get me wrong I enjoy yhe entire can and NEVER waist a drop but that first mouthful is pure heaven.

When I was 36 years old my second weight loss surgery failed. For once this was not my fault. It "broke" I won't bore you with the details but I did have to have it fixed. I elected to have it taken down and a new Gastric Bypass put in place. It was that or get huge again and be dead within two years maximum.

As you can imagine I was upset. I knew my life was going to change in many ways. I was told that sugery food and drink would make me feel ill. I didn't believe it actually and thought I would be different to every one else who had it and I would be immune. I wasn't. After three months I longed for my fizzy. I grieved for it in fact. I didn't mind so much not being able to eat chocolate and sweets and desserts. I did mind, but it was the coke I missed. I tried to drink some. I felt violently ill. I kept trying and kept feeling ill.

Other than the wee dallience when I was 11 I have always hated diet drinks. Thought they taste like shit actually and diet coke in particular made me physically gag.

I tried a can of diet coke and it still tasted so foul! I actually cried that day. A few days later my sister told me I should try coke zero. I did, and it was not too bad. I decided that if i kept drinking it maybe I would get used to it. I drank it and diet sprite. After around nine days I found I liked coke zero! I was and still am overjoyed!

Now each day some time after 12 I crack into a new can of coke zero and can re-live the great moments of my soda drinking past without worrying about weight gain! I can feel lightened and happy as I think about the possible effects of drinking too much artificial sweetner, such as brain tumours and cancer! But I figure what the hell, I have to die some time. Gastric bypass has forced me to do everything else right, I can't get pissed and I don't smoke so at least if this kills me I will waft away from earth on a carpet of cool, sweet fizzy bubbles!!!

The Civic Car Park.

As you may have read below, last night I got dressed up and hit the Town! Well the Town Hall actually, followed by a trip to Greenlane Mac-Donaldo.

On the way in there are a shit load of signs, $8 for this, $6 for that, Three hours 19 bucks! Pre-pay and save, lose exit card pay with your first born, early bird special, late entry special, comedy show special, your so fucking special! I think all these signs serve to confuse rather than advertise and last night my point was proved!

Mr. Allison in Pyjamas said he thought the electronic voice gave good advice as our ticket was spat out of a metal post. It said: "Prepay $8 and save Queing after the show!" Excellent!
We approched the booth where a weather beaten attendant sat waiting for us. Mr. AIP rocked up and said: "I'll have the Early Bird special please!" Mr. Attendant was not happy at all!

He said: "You want the $8 prepay and save you know, Early bird special is in the morning!" Remember, he is behind a 200 inch thick glass window with a speaker in it that was switched off. Mr. AIP heard the $8 part but not much else so he said: "Yes, thats right, the $8 Early bird special! " Well, Mr. attendant looked like some one had fdropped a turd in his coffee!

He said in a very irritated tone: "Early Bird special is in the MORNING!!!!!" "You want $8 pre pay and SAVE!!!!!!!!" Mr. AIP could see he had committed the parking faux pas of the 00's! So he said "OOOOOOOAA, I am sorry, yes the $8 parking special!" Mr. PA still not happy, he muttered away "It's called $8 pre-pay and save, mumble mutter harummph!" You probably had to be there to get the full joke and I was there so I get it!

The things you miss when you stay home and internet all day!

A Trip Out of the Home!

Last night I went out! I took off my pyjamas and I got dressed in my top quality Mereno dress, (I can't spell Marino or is it Merino?) any way i digress, my bootssssss and my little red Fiat and I headed to the big city! A scary thought for the Queen of pyjamas!

I went to see Chopper Reid (Fuckin' Hello!) It was fantastic! He was so funny at times I nearly cried! He is most certainly an aquired taste but my taste has aquired him! Thrill of the the night was to meet Heath Franklin, shake his hand and have my photo taken with him!

Even though I am a course bitch it was funny, I could not bring my self to follow the other mother-truckers and "flip the bird" for my picture! I just let my hands dangle loosely at my side and Chopper gave the thumbs up instead! I still get to hear the word "FUCK" used many times to great comic advantage yet I can come away with my picture and not be one of the hoards of people flippin' the bird!

It was nice to get dressed up, park in the Civic, wear too much make up and drink an overpriced glass of diet beveredge! It makes for a bright spot on a dull day!

Trade Me Pick Up

Tonight I had the Trade Me buy now pick up from hell. If someone told me about it I would laugh and not believe them! Person = bitch. She would not help me carry a giant heater to my car because her shoes were upstairs! I knocked on the door and it flew open! She yelled her own name at the top of her voice! Scary! I backed away! Then said: "I have come to pick up the heater if that's OK?" She said: "Have you brought any one who can help you carry it?" I looked around, I checked my pockets and peered up the driveway, nope I had definitely come alone. I said: "Perhaps you could give me a hand with it?" "But my shoes are upstairs!" "It does roll you know!" I looked down at the 10 steps that lead to her front door and thought "You roll it bitch!" I just stood there like a pet rock. In the end her flat mate helped begrudgingly. She dumped it next to the car and stalked inside, no goodbye from either of them! I somehow managed to hoist the thing into the back of my tiny Fiat. It did not fit properly. I rang Jim and got a phone lesson on tilting seat forward. It FIT! I backed out of bitches driveway, relieved. I was parked on the vehicle crossing waiting for my moment to nip out onto the main road. A man was walking along,
He was texting. He was walking. He was not looking. Texting, walking, whistling, walking, *SMACK!* The goon walked into my car!!!! I gave him the "You cock-knocker" stare! He looked rather embarrassed and just stood there for a second. He straightened up and walked around the car. As I backed out, the wheel fell off my giant heater. Great. I rounded the corner into my street. A bunch of young Polynesian gentle men were standing in the middle of the road to welcome me to my street. I nearly ran one of them over with the red terror! I also gave them a death stare! Who knew so much could happen in 15 minutes! At least the heater was a bargain!

A Trip to Newmarket.

I have a friend. We have always been friends. Well friends since we were five years old. Sometimes we didn't talk or see each other for years, but she was still my friend. Circumstances meant we didn't always live in the same town or even the same country. But I always thought of her as my friend even when we were not doing friend shit. I have not had another friend like this and probably never will.

We are both a bit strange I think. We ask strange questions. I asked her the other day if she found a mouse in her toaster would she shriek and run away? Or would she push the handle down and toast it? I new what she was going to say before she said it. My answer was the opposite to hers but that some how made it better.

We have totally opposite tastes in many things. We don't look at all alike. She is long and straight, I am medium and round. She looks fabulous in clothes and I look like a dumpy housewife. Except when I am wearing my boots of course. My lovely boots! She likes mats made of creatures and I like them made of acrylic. I like a shiny red vinyl bag with matching shoes, she likes a soft pale chocolate suede one with contrasting accents on her shoes!

Despite this we get on. We get each others jokes and swear like sailors. We both like to eat cakes and chocolate and dine in cafes. We are as different in appearance and personality as you could imagine, yet we are the same. She doesn't mind being seen with me in my Warehouse top with safetypins on it and I like to brag about her $850 shoes! The one thing we both love is shopping.

We can out-shop the best of them on any given day. I am on the prowl for bargains and sales and things to sell on Trade Me. She likes all the good shit that costs the big bucks! This makes us a great team in that we can cover all the bases and between us will never miss a shoppertunity.

We went shopping last week in fact. We went to Newmarket. Niether of us had been for a matter of years. We looked at many items for sale and had a nice lunch at Zarbo. We were there for one item and one item only! BOOTS! Not for me, I have three pairs and am saving my pennies. But for her. We walked the length of Newmaket and looked in every shoe shop. Money was no object! Getting a pair to fit was! My friend has large calves so has difficulty in getting a full length leather boot. There are some with elastic in the side or the back but these are not to her liking. Fair enough too. Boots are important so you must not settle for less than perfect!

It is interesting the difference in sales techniques we encountered on our trip. We met a lady with a scarf on who was very apologetic that she could not help us. She apologised for the wait while she went out the back and she thanked us for our patience. I was taken with her because if it were me I would have slapped us. We go into her shop and try on all these boots and then leave a huge mess and buy nothing.

My friend went into another store that had shelves of boots near the side of the shop. She said to the assistant: "Do you sell boots?" She looked my friend down then up then down again and spat at her: "No, we DON'T ssssssell BOOTSSSSSSSS!" Horrifying really, no wonder Keith Matheson is about to go out of business with an attitude like that!

We left the bustle of 277 and went to cross the road. A car load of youngsters were parked on the crossing. My friend still wiping the spittle off her face from the Keith Matheson woman said: "Yeah just park there!" "It's noy like its a fucken crossing or anything!" I don't think they heard her but it was pretty funny!

We moved on to Briarwood who pride themselves on quality NZ made goods and tried on some Chinese made boots that did not fit. I wondered what part of NZ they came from. My friend had no luck despite us yanking so hard on a zipper I cut my thumb and started sweating! She did get a lovely pair of pink jandals though! SCORE!

We wove in and out of the stores being presented with boot after boot, nothing that worked. To make up for it a lovely cow-skin bag was purchased. It was a snip at $199. We decided it had nits. We asked the assitant what the white dots all over it were. She looked at us like we were a runny turd left by my dog. She avoided the question. We decided that they were skin chips and my friend handed over her eftpos card.

The highlight for me was going to Mia Piacci. My friend found a pair of boots that had possibility. She struggled into them. The first one nearly did up! The second one I yanked the zip so hard it went all the way up! The assitant smiled but her heart was not in it. She was worried for the safety of her boots. My friend stomped about in them for a bit and decided that they were so tight she could not decide if they were the ones!

She removed the first one with ease. The second one was stuck fast. The zip was stuck. It did not want to unzip! I had my hand in the boot, the knee high stocking was caught. I pulled so hard I thought I would faint! I broke out in a sweat! The assitants once smiling mouth was all of a sudden in the shape of a puckered arsehole! What could we do!? We were both grunting and sweating like pigs on a hot day! Finally one of us unhooked the offending nylon and inched the zip down! I pulled hard on the boot and it flew off! Relief!

Needless to say we are still friends this week and will be next week all going well!

I am sitting here at my computer again. I am wearing pyjama pants again. I have proper clothing on the rest of me. I am telling myself that by staying in my pyjamas I am saving money. I won't wear my street clothes out. I can keep them nice for when I have to leave my house.

Clothes are funny. The define us I think. When I go out wearing what I wear people look at me and make a judgement. If I am well dressed and made up with my hair done people will treat me with respect. They will smile at me and engage me. They will think I am well organised and efficient. They won't see the few extra kilos I carry. When I say: "But I am size 16!" they will say: "NO WAY!!!" They will ask me where I got my boots because they want some just the same. They want them so that people will ask them where they got their boots from. They think I have confidence, money and intelligence.

The truth is, when I am at home wearing my pyjamas, my oversized snuggly purple cardi, my black socks with a hole in the toe, have no make up on, no boots and my hair sticks up, I am still the same person. Yet if I went out wearing that people would think something else.

They would see my extra weight, "Size 16? more like a 24!" my chin rash and my scruffy exterior and think I was dumb, poor and a little nuts!

Being fat is the same as wearing pyjamas. Except you can't just get changed when you feel like it. You are fat all the time. All day. All night. At work, on the beach, in the supermarket and at a job interview. Fat people are thought of as stupid, lazy and un-motivated. Be honest here they are aren't they? Thats what you think isn't it? Even if you would NEVER say this.

Next time you see a chub-meister out in public don't treat them like they have their pyjamas on. Because they are the same as you, just bigger. Think about what it would be like if you were wearing your pyjamas instead. Would that make you nuts? Or would you still be the same?

I guess the difference here is I never liked being fat but I do like my pyjamas.