Oh Bugger??

Hmm...maybe I need think long and hard before posting anything novelesque using Blogger?

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Any intellectual property lawyers ambling past out there?

Tired mum brain cannot compute!

Welcome Liam David!

Last night we went to visit Uncle Sammy and Aunty Glenda who gave birth to Pascal's and Sweeney's cousin Liam on Wednesday night. He is very scrumptious and so tiny compared to Sweeney. It's unbelievable what three and a half months growth looks like when you have a direct comparison.

We had dinner with new dad Sammy at a Thai restaurant near the beach in Hampton (near the hospital Glenda was in). It's amazing how many old people were out! The grey to other hair colour was about 75/25.

Looks like 'NanaLand'* is still living up to it's name thirty years on!

Anyway, we decided on this Thai restaurant as it had the least amount of grey haired ladies and gents. I don't have anything against our elders, just that I get a bit paranoid having young kids around them and Pascal can get a bit cheeky.**

As Asa took Pascal to the toilet one cozy couple caught my eye...

Me (motioning towards them): "Hey, I think they're on their first date."

Sammy: "Yep, they met online - Sprightly 90 year old into golf and S&M seeks no strings attached fun with woman into same. Great grandkids OK."








CONGRATULATIONS TO SAM AND GLENDA!



*My nana lived around this area and they were everywhere then!

**When Pascal was three he used to break into 'This old man, he played one' whenever he saw an elderly man...or woman. We didn't leave the restaurant completely cringefree. He spoke a bit of gibberish to the Thai waitress and when Asa said 'oh, stop being silly' Pascal said cheekily 'but I'm speaking Chinese!' Luckily she dug his cheeky style and gave him a lollypop.

Quandary

I've written my first paragraph. You know the book I am writing? Yeah, well it's done. The first paragraph. Phew. Hard work.

I am feeling very, very excited. It's all of ten lines but I really feel this is the one and I've had a great idea how to launch it....

I'm jumping ahead of myself and will start from the beginning. Yesterday I was doing my usual meandering and tidying around the house as Sweeney slept. I had my thoughts on a nice cup of tea and a Louis Theroux special I had recorded from the night before. As usual my thoughts also turned towards the laptop and getting this show on the road. Usually I would (very briefly and tokenly) try and muster the enthusiasm to at least open a word document but then go placate that thought and promise it I will do what it wants me to do TOMORROW.

Not this time. No, I sat down, opened that fresh word document, suffered through a minor tantrum at the stupditity and user UNfriendliness of Vista Microsoft Office and banged out a FANTASTIC first paragraph. I love it, Asa loves it* and it's going to make the first chapter very easy.

I am sooo pumped.

So today I was thinking about this wonderful character who is becoming more and more substantial in my head and realised that, really, something is happening here. This something is also heightened by a wonderful dream I had last night. Well, the second one. In the first dream I was being chased by an axe weilding maniac. Really. He was crazy and had an axe. I woke up just as I realised I couldn't lock the door behind me as he came running up the drive. Should I flee throught the house or try and hold the door closed? Or wake up!

So the fantastic second dream. There was still a macabre hangover from the last dream as I was in a house (which was actually a version of my mum's/childhood home) in a large upstairs ballroom. It was dark and there were all these corpse like characters in dull coloured costumes. I was there and doing something (and I honestly can't remember what it was) which got them all animated again. They were all dressed brightly and dancing around (or maybe rollerskating??). I think they were thanking me. I'm not sure but there was definitely a sense that I had done something extrordinary for them. There was also this guy on a horse who told me something important but I've forgotten what it was...Bloody Hell, now as I describe it, it's sounding like Night at the Museum!!!

Anyway, as the day went on I became more detached from the magic of the dream and realised what it was telling me. The House represents me or my Self, of course. The ballroom is 'upstairs' so I've taken it to mean my mind or imagination. The characters are, well, characters and I've woken them up...brought them to life. FAR OUT MAN!

So, now my quandary.
I've been thinking of POSTING - as in live on the internet - a chapter a week....

But I'm scared. Scared of being ripped off, basically. I know, I know...I could be delusional and no-one is going to want to steal my ideas but what if it happened. How pissed off would I feel? So, if anyone, ANYONE is out there reading this..what do you think?



*Maybe in the same sense this guy's girlfriend said his piercings are unobtrusive but hopefully not

Oh, you mean those clothes?

Yes, I guess I should mention that the clothes were found.

By Asa.

MY VERY BEST MOST VALUABLE CLOTHES, the loss of which is capable of turning me into a screaming banshee (well, weeping pathetic banshee) are still bunched up in the green coles bag.

Underneath the bed where I left them

Oh shut up, I'm BREASTFEEDING!


Apologies to Asa. Still mates?

The day I discovered my best clothes went to the Op Shop...

...which is today. Wonderful. I'm just super, thanks for asking.

Oh! I was being sarcastic. Yes really! And I still am, and it's annoying me so let's keep it real.

I am soooo pissed off. Well I was, I'm better now because there is no way I would have been able to turn on the laptop, let alone write anything when I was in the middle of it. My tantrum, I mean. My tantrum I let myself have with my three month old bawling from the bedroom. Oh, I feel so guilty but I just couldn't stop...bawling myself, that is.

It's amazing how everything can change in a matter of minutes, or maybe it was even a minute, singular.

Soooo, up until the discovery, everything was going swimmingly. I've stayed in the house all day (apart from a very short walk with Sweeney and Tilly the dog, cut short due to rain), tidied up, sorted out dinner and even got a nap in earlier. I've got a beautiful blend of essential oils burning (frankincense, cedarwood, geranium and lavender for relaxing). I also have a nice cup of chai ready, along with a big bowl of tiny teddies, to tuck into as I open the laptop. All of a sudden I'm thinking about a bag of clothes a friend of mine returned a week or two ago. Right now I'm thinking hard but I cannae remember the trigger for this thought. This green coles bag contained two of my best dresses I have for weddings and stuff and an expensive blazer. My friend had borrowed them for a wedding and I suggested she take the lot.

it's just the kind of gal I am.

Anyway - back to today, sitting at my laptop, one second the slack jawed yokel staring into the distance then the next the crazy mo fo getting all het up and angsty before she's even searched the place. You see, when I'm like this there is no point in looking. I 'm positive that Asa has taken that green coles back full of my most valuable clothes and, without even looking, thrown them in an opshop bin. I mean it's so typical, him and his constant need to purge. I was fuming and bawling, doing a half arsed search from room to room, meanwhile my psycho harridan vibes have reached sleeping Sweeney who awakens and starts bawling. You get the picture?

Yay!

By the way I'm only admitting this because I'm talking to no-one.

Sweeney joins me in my aimless pacing (one of us has stopped crying) as I call Asa's mobile phone about fifty times (ok, about ten) and leaving the occasional blubbering message or two (actually there were two). It was the only way I could calm myself down. I had to just do something.

After about twenty minutes I finally realise I am over it. I finally admit to myself that one of those designer dresses was $60 on sale (but $300 full price, ok!) and has never really suited me and that I haven't worn the blazer for at least 2 years since the matching pants went AWOL. And...

...Asa will probably find them.

TIRED!

Right now I'm sitting up in bed. It's cold and dark at 6:14pm though I feel cocooned, warm and snug with my warm bedside lamp, hearing the sounds of the 6pm News and Asa and Pascal playing Shrek Monopoly (Pascal with a slightly polite British inflection: "I am not breaking the rules") . Sweeney is lying beside me asleep with that startle reflex going off every now and then.

I don't know what I was going to post but felt I had to keep this thing moving. *BUMP* *BUMP*

I just read my previous post and I'm doing it again. This indecision thing. I haven't given Genies a second thought since my last post and now find myself talking about a picture book starring Sweeney the littlest hero (Sweeney is an Irish name meaning Little Hero) about snot (or boogy) requesting aliens. Will I end up a crazy woman of eighty still trying to work out which idea to go ahead with? I'm sounding frustrated but I'm not....yet.

So lets be honest for a minute and stop railroading myself into this person who whines about procrastinating and indecision. Someone in there is telling me to shut up, you are indeed speaking shit. You know you are going to go with the Genies. Every time you see a picture of that gorgeous vampire Edward you think it. Every time you hear TV on the Radio it reminds you. The ads for the Half Blood Prince give you a jolt.

Jean Genie let yourself go.

It's funny when you remember something or in this case read something written previously and let out a great big 'DER' (or I guess 'Duh' if you are American or born after 1990)

I am talking about my Genie protoganist's situation being incredibly similar not just to the Ugly Duckling's....

Ok so my story will be a cross between Twilight and Harry Potter. I can live with that.