Packing the Bags and Moving

Hi folks,

It is time for The Sleepydumpling to pack her blog bags and move home. Blogger has served me well for the past three and a bit years, but I need a little more functionality, so I'm going to give Wordpress a try.

I will post some regular reminders here to let you all know that I've moved, but for now, come on over to the new blog:

http://sleepydumpling.wordpress.com

Somethin' For Da Haterz...

Here are a whole bunch of photos of me. Because I'm not going to let some moron the inability to spell correctly make me feel bad about myself because he wants to call me a "fat bitch".

Here is the photo that drew the comment:

Yep, fat bitch being eaten by a dinosaur. Cos nothing else is big enough to eat me. Rawr!

In this one, I'm drinking away my sorrows, because I just can't cope being a fat bitch.

Look, an almost full body shot of my fat bitchness.

This is me as a fat bitch zombie.

How about a recent photo. Taken yesterday, just moments after I dyed my fat bitch hair. I'd hate to be noticed, just in case someone saw how fat I was.

And here is my big fat bitch arse. Which "Edward" can kiss.

(Actually, it's not my arse, I can't get the camera around there to take a photo of my arse, but it kinda looks like my arse.)

If the haters think they're going to shame me by calling me a fat bitch, or insulting me in any other way... well, let's just say they've got as much chance as my arse has of ever being thin.

Let's Play!

I've got a story to tell you.

A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting at my desk, merrily working away, with my iPod firmly plugged into my ears.

Now anyone who knows me, or has seen my desk, knows I am only happy when I can be surrounded by groovy things I love. In the case of my desk at work, it's a large collection of snow globes that I have inherited over the years (to the point that my colleagues now buy them for me when they have holidays), a few toy cars, a stuffed toy giraffe that is wearing a leopard print coat and hooker boots, a few little wind up toys that hop and jiggle and spin and Super Baby and Captain Underpants toys.

Yes, I am childish. Just ask my friend Kylie.

So I'm sitting there happily clacking away at my keyboard, grooving to something fun on my iPod, when along comes this man down the corridor. This man is impeccably turned out. Very high quality tailor made suit, good professional haircut, with the distinguished silver at the sides, carrying an expensive leather compendium, totally exuding professionalism and "high up-ness".

He gets to level with my desk, spots all the toys and trinkets, and breaks into the most beautiful, enormous smile. Then proceeds to stop and play with all the toys, shake the snow globes and chuckle to himself. All without saying a word to me. After about 5 minutes, he puts down the little cow-truck and makes his way off to his meeting or whatever important event he's going to.

It was a delight to watch.

It got me thinking about the importance of play as an adult. How often do you play? Whether that is goofing off with a friend, or just tinkering about with something like Lego or the stress toys on your desk?

On Saturday, Kylie and I were at Robina, and we found a games and puzzles store that had some boxes of the most wonderful little wind up toys. I wanted them all for my desk at work. We must have wound up every single type of toy and tested it. Then we found an Australian Geographic store and played with the stuff in there for awhile. My favourite was the giant dinosaur head on the wall. Check it out:

As adults, I wonder if we're trained not to play? It's either seen as a waste of time, or immature. People look down their noses and say "Be serious." For me, I'm not sure that being serious equates to being sombre. I know myself that I feel so much more relaxed if I can spend a little time tinkering with something, or goofing off with friends than if I "buckle down and be serious" all the time. Not to mention that I can be completely serious about something while also seeing the humour in it, without needing to be sombre.

It doesn't hurt to play sometimes. Go buy yourself a little Lego kit. Or a Matchbox car. Head to a toy store and don't just look, play with some of them. Get yourself a little wind up toy for on your desk at work. Take a photograph with some big display prop. Laugh.

RELAX.

Freak Out Your Inner Geek

I had a bit of a geek girl dream day yesterday. In the afternoon I was lucky enough to go and visit with new Twitter friends at their lovely house on the Gold Coast. Not only is their house absolutely beautiful, but it's a true geek girl haven with the most exquisite mini theatre and all the gaming bizzo you could dream of. I'm not a gamer, but sitting on the floor of their theatre room watching a group of gals playing Beatles Rock Band, was so much fun. Made especially fun by the fantastic company.

However tonight's blog post is going to be about the total orgasmo-fest that is the Apple Store at Robina. That's what we did in the morning - made a special trip to the Robina shopping centre just for the Apple Store. It did not disappoint.

It looks great, right from when you walk up to the front door. A big glass front with no displays in the windows. The store IS the display. And simply the Apple logo in white above the door. Just like their products, you know straight away what you're getting and what's in there.

Once we went inside, there were lots of "squeeeee" noises because they have several tables with iPhones just laid out on them for you to play with. Some are loaded up with apps, some are showcasing particular features, others are just there for you to tinker. Some goon had left his email open on the one I went to, and I had the overwhelming desire to send him an email on it, but I did the good karma thing and deleted it from the iPhone.

Even though I already have an iPhone, I still tinkered and played with the ones there. Mostly because I got a taste of some of the apps I don't have. And they'd set them up to do things I haven't learnt to do yet.

While we were there, they had a class for people in the Snow Leopard operating system. A very personable young man was taking a group of about 8 people through the operating system, in what seemed like a clear, concise way. I wouldn't mind having a go at one of those sessions myself.

I am planning to buy an iMac in a month or so when my PC lease runs out, so I decided to see if I could get someone to talk to me about it. It didn't take long for someone to acknowledge me, and he asked if I would like some help. When I said yes, he said "I'm just with someone right now, but I'll get someone for you while I'm at it." He kept with his customers but acknowledged me every time he came past and found me someone within about 10 minutes. The guy who came to talk to me was friendly without being pushy, helped me with my questions about leasing/finance/full purchase and then asked me what I would mostly like to use my computer for. And gave me a demo of iPhoto, which is pretty bloody impressive.

I also had a look at all of the MacBooks, all laid out on the table and up and running for customers to tinker with. Perused the walls full of accessories for all your Apple goodies. Watched a huge mofo television with Apple TV hooked up to it. Gazed at the very attractive but also friendly staff. And plotted and planned for when I can get my very own iMac.

If you're of the geeky pursuasion, even if you're only dipping your toe in the pool of geekdom, make your way to the nearest Apple store to you. Not only are they absolutely gorgeous, impressive products but you are encouraged to tinker and play by the very friendly staff. You will have lots of fun (and be planning your own iPhone/iMac/MacBook purchase in the very near future!)

My Auntie Dot

I've just heard today that my Auntie Dot probably won't make it through the day.

It's bittersweet, because I'm sure she's chosen when she's ready to go (she's just that damn stubborn) but I will miss her when she does.

Auntie Dot taught me my first dirty jokes.

She taught me to play most card games, and how to cheat at them.

She was responsible for most of my early sex education because she had boxes and boxes of smutty cartoon books that I used to sneak copies out of and read under the blankets, giggling at all the jokes I didn't understand and the drawings of nude women. Boobies are hilarious to a six year old.

She taught me how to cook a lot of things, most of them full of fat, sugar and salt, all of them delicious.

She had more gadgets and doodads than anyone else I know, and I have inherited that.

She always had pet birds, with ridiculous names like Wrecker, that would roam the house freely, alternately terrorising people or charming them for tidbits. My favourite was an old galah that would steal cigarette butts out of ashtrays and put them in people's shoes. Most of these birds swore like fishwives. Kind of like Auntie Dot.

When we kids called out "Dottie!" through the house she would always answer "Whattie?"

She had a cat called Fonzie that was just like a ginger version of Horse from the Footrot Flats comics.

She had a vast collection of Footrot Flats comics. A vast collection of comics all together, from the aforementioned smut to Richie Rich and Archie and the Ettamogah Pub.

She liked silly toys that did poos or laid eggs or made fart noises. She loved dirty jokes. A few years ago one of her kids set her up with email and she has bombarded me with filthy jokes ever since. Whenever I see a really puerile dirty joke, I email it to Dottie. Usually if it has a picture of a penis in it, Dottie will love it.

She could feed a good sized township on whatever she could find in her freezer and her rather marvellous pantry. Jesus had nothing on her with his loaves and fishes.

Her door was always open and her phone always ringing. We have been known to sleep three deep on her livingroom floor. With various pets climbing all over us.

She loved kids, loved Christmas and would always join the two together and create the most riotous times.

She always complained about everything, but you knew she secretly loved everything too. Her laugh always sounded filthy, even when she was laughing at something innocent.

I'll miss her, the cranky old bitch.

Housekeeping Announcement

Just a heads up.

It's no more Miss Nice Girl.

If you don't like what I got to say, fuck off. You heard me.

Nobody is forcing anybody to read my blogs or follow me on Twitter. If you are here reading my blog or Twitter to get all pissed off and criticise me, you need to perhaps look at what's lacking in your life. You got nothing better to do than spend time reading the writing of someone you don't like? That's pretty sad.

I make the rules in this patch. You don't like it, don't let the door hit your arse on the way out. If you hang around in my patch, then I reserve the right to have fun telling you in many colourful and detailed ways how you can go fuck yourself.

Now, back to our regular programming.

Time to Re-Assess

As I mentioned earlier, I've been battling the black dog a bit the past few days. It's purely chemical, and will pass in time, but it's at times like this that the things that bother me, frustrate me or make me angry, bubble to the surface, so it pays to lay those things out in front of me a bit and examine them, to see if I can improve on them at all.

One of the things that has been high on the irritation factor lately has been the behaviour exhibited by several people on Twitter.

Now don't get me wrong, I love Twitter, have made some amazing friends and had some incredible experiences. I have been taking a bit of a break for a few days, because I was feeling low and didn't want to irritate anyone with my blah mood, but I am looking forward to jumping back in when I'm feeling a bit more robust. I've missed quite a few people while I've been on this hiatus.

However, I have realised it's time for a rethink on how I have been using Twitter. Up until now, I've been casting my Twitter net far, wide and deep. Which has brought me some amazing people to talk to and meet in real life too. However, the downside of casting that net out so broadly and deeply is you also pick up a lot of fish that are not at all pleasant. What's worse, is sometimes it's really, really hard to disentangle those nasty fish from the net and chuck 'em back. Which means they spoil the experience and take up valuable time from the tasty fish.

Unfortunately, the internet, and therefore Twitter, can be a great enabler of bad behaviour. Where face-to-face you have to deal with the consequences of your behaviour pretty quickly, online you can throw out any old statement, behaviour or attitude and you don't get to see the consequences. Needless to say, those people in the world who are arseholes LOVE this, and rely on it to be able to perpetuate their arsehole behaviour. This is not unique to Twitter understand, but as it's the broadest interface I have been using for connecting with new people, it's where I've seen it displayed the most of recent times.

Some of the behaviour types that have been bothering me the most include:

· The Passive Aggressive - people who are too cowardly to say anything up front, broadcast out snarky messages to everyone when it's very clear who the intended recipient is.

· The “But I’m KIDDING!” - Behaving in badly and then claiming they're "Just being facetious." when they're called on it. No you're not, you're being a fuck. Own it.

· The Judgemental - The level of intolerance has really astonished me. And it's not the usual offenders of the highly conservative either. I can't believe how vicious some people can be to those who are different to them - as if they'd accept anyone behaving in that manner towards them, but they're quite happy to give it out.

· The Bitch – not just women. It’s the snarky comments and put downs.

· The Bully - the old "Hey everyone, look at so-and-so said! Let's all point and laugh!" style. Fight your own battles.

· The Superiority Complex. There are a lot of people out there that feel that they’re better than others. They’re not.

· The Narcissist. Ever see that scene in Beaches when Bette Midler’s character says “But enough about me, let’s talk about you. How do you feel about me?” Oh how those people love online communities. Because they can always get validation from someone to say “But you’re awesome!” and feed their ego. So they spend their whole time saying things like “I suck.” So every conversation turns to them.

· The Drama Queen/King – instead of just opting out of the conversation, unfollowing or skimming, they chime in with a big “OMG!! Everyone is FIGHTING!! Oh I can’t handle it!” whenever anyone has a good debate. Closely related to the Narcissist, they have to make every discussion directly about them.

· The Wannabe – these people believe they’re intended for Internet Fame. They friend everybody, but only talk to those they think are going to make them appear more interesting and bring them more followers. If they ask a question and people respond, they only reply to those who they think are “awesome enough”.

· The False Networker – again, these friend everybody, but only so their follow count looks big and if someone is of use to them, then they’ll interact. Otherwise they just ignore most people.

· The Pick Up Artist – they’re looking for a root. They only want to interact with you if they fancy you or one of your friends.

· The Barnacle – these people just cannot let go. If someone dares to disagree with them, or there is some kind of dispute, they might unfollow, but they spend the rest of their time dropping hints about “certain people” and “remember that incident”. Other people in genuine concern then mention it to those “certain people”, which is exactly what the Barnacle wants. You just can’t shake a fucking Barnacle.

I’m sure there are more. These are the ones I find give me the shits more than any others.

So in light of that, I’m having a re-think of how I use Twitter. I have two accounts. One of which I am going to lock down now, after clearing out all of the extraneous accounts I follow that either fill my feed with irrelevant crap, narcissism or drama. This will be my private account and only people I trust will be welcome.

My other account will be opened up and I’ll follow all the local event accounts, work related stuff and people I don’t know yet. This account won’t get as much attention as the private one, but it will be where I get to know the character of people before I bring them close. That way I can hopefully filter out all of those personality types above.

It sucks that one has to put so much energy into directing something as simple as Twitter, but unfortunately there are a lot of unhealthy people out there who clearly don’t have enough of a life to live that they have to create drama, bad vibes and falseness to the rest of us who just are who we are and genuinely want to interact.

An Alligator Beats a Black Dog Anytime

I've had a crap couple of days. The black dog of depression has been plaguing me. So I'm going to indulge in some gratuitous cheer me up videos in this blog, just so that I have them all in one place for next time.

Yes, it's more Craig Ferguson, or in particular, one of his puppets, Wavey the Alligator.

You know, I think it's the accent I like the best. Whatta do everybody!

Wavey has a friend in this one (above).

This one above is possibly my favourite.

Ok, let's give Craig a plug for his new book. Last week he released an autobiography called "American on Purpose". Here he is giving an author talk:

If you want to buy the book, Amazon have it available here. I've read excerpts, it's very good, and very funny.