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!