James & Georgie

Hmm, today  I was driving to the shops, and listening to something on the radio about how kids are losing their ability to effectively communicate with each other.
Damn, I thought. They’re right; it’s so obvious but I somehow missed it. I finish early on Wednesdays, and drive home past the local primary school I used to attend, when their lunch break is just about to end. When I went there, there’d be kids running around the oval, playing on the swing set, kicking a ball, chatting and everything. Last week, everyone was huddled in the shade, and they were all either on a phone, a Nintendo thing or another, or watching someone else on one. As the car slowly idled by I just thought how stupid it was. Fat, pasty kids. It really upsets me; I used to be borderline obese. It took and takes quite a bit of effort to change and maintain that, and looking at them it was hard to say if they’d have the motivation to do something like that themselves. Wii fit? What difference does it make to do…pushups without some electronic board anyway? Craning your neck up to stare at the animated you doing pushups on your big-ass plasma TV probably wouldn’t be too good for your neck, either.

The point is, kids are screwing themselves over pretty hard. No imagination. No activity. Fat food and candy and ‘Chippees’ . I don’t know. It just really annoys me how people can let themselves go. Especially when you’re at a red light and the dick next to you has his fat son leering at you, with some sort of bar in his hand he’s eating. Wanker. I hope he chokes. Hahaha

I went to the shops today, to buy a new drill I’ve been eyeing. I went to two hardware stores…twenty minutes apart. The first one had one with an average battery pack, for $200. Fine, I thought. I picked up some goodies I needed, then I went on my way. The second store had a similar drill, with a better battery pack for $159. Awesome, I thought. Then I looked at the top, there was an extra battery pack taped on top. Two state-of-the-art battery packs (each sells for around $40 anyway), for that price! I bought it on the spot; turns out it was leftovers from Fathers Day Sale ’09. What a bargain.
It’s got a nice hard carrycase, two charging stations (but only one wall adapter, which I found rather counter-intuitive), and the carrycase has room for an extra battery. Hahah, and the drill itself has a little screen on the back that tells you remaining battery capacity, and a small LED under the head which illuminates whatever you’re drilling. The best thing is I don’t have to worry about flat batteries. Worse comes to worst, just slap the other one in. It’s fantastic; I was thinking of replacing the old batteries in the old drill’s cartridge, but that would have cost me $90 for far less quality than what I got today.

While I was in the great concrete yonder, I also bought some groceries and a roast chicken. The guy at the counter was seriously, no more than 14, 15 years old. Amazing; it sort of reminded me what was happening to me at my own job. On Sundays we get time and a half, and they used to give me a seven hour shift every Sunday, until they gave it to this sixteen year old. Jerkbags. Pfft. And they call me on almost every Sunday morning, going ‘Ah are you available today etc etc’ because they know he won’t get the job done. Too bad, I mean, I got stuff to do at home and for study. If they assigned me the shift I’d be there, but that’s just crazy.

Jesus that was long

As posted on my Tumblr…

There is a regular routine when a phone rings in my household.

Be it a mobile phone or a house phone or even possibly the sound of a phone ringing.

Usually my mum shouts one of the following:

• “Everyone shut up, I’m going to be on the phone!”
• “The phone is ringing, shut up!”
• “Turn the TV down, I’m going to pick up the phone!”
• “I’m going to be on the phone, be quiet!”
• “Oh my god, it’s Bob, everyone shut up!”
• “Is that the phone? I can’t get up, can someone pick it up?”
• “GEORGIE! PICK UP THE PHONE!!!!” [That’s a cue for me.]
• “That must be your boyfriend. AGAIN…”
• “Can someone pick that up please…? Hello? HURRY, hello?!?!!”

Following that, depending on who picks up (usually only EVER my mum or I)…

1. My mum picks up the phone and says in the nicest voice ever, “Hello?”
2. I pick up the phone and say grumpily, “Hello.”
3. My mum realises that the phone was not ringing and it was the neighbours’.
4. My mum realises that she has picked up too late and continues saying, “Hello? Hello? Hello?”
5. I pick up the phone and the entire family crowds around me to hear who it is.

You’d think we never get phone calls at this rate. :|

Ahhhh I’m typing this on my iPod touch, on the go… James and I are going to get pho soon.

Kelsey told me about this WordPress app on the iPod and it’s pretty cool. It’s much better than going on Safari and logging in and posting. :3

The rest of her body is under the shirt; it’s only her head and neck turned to the camera. But it’s quite cute :)

I never thought I’d be into lucky numbers… as a child, people told me the numbers 7 and 9 were lucky, and I kept that note in my mind.

From that day I thought “97″ was the coolest number ever.

Often, my mum would buy a lottery ticket and those were the numbers I’d choose, along with 1 and other random numbers that meant nothing to me.

Over time, “97″ became a figure that didn’t mean so much anymore. I realised that my mum’s “lucky numbers” were numbers of our house, her birthday, her birth year, her sisters’ and brother’s birthdays, and my birthday, my brother’s birthday… a multitude of numbers that were obtained from little, special days.

At one point I liked the number 10, because I happened to like someone who had some association with that number… whatever.

Now, I simply think the way my mother did.

The other day on the Pop forum, which my host, Kya, opened, I was entering a little competition she initiated that allowed you to get a hosting upgrade for free.

I was using a lot of space on my account and each month my bandwidth was (yet again!) close to running out, due to most of my domains being on the account, and my website having a lot of visitors in general.

Participants simply had to pick a random number between 1 and 30, and a number would be pulled out.

I didn’t really think, but I put in 26 because that’s James’s birthday.

This morning I received an email saying I had won an upgrade because I guessed one of the numbers that was randomly generated.

James, I love you. :3

Happy 20 months. =)

Thank you… for everything.

I want to say, that I miss you. Wherever you are… and I wish we could talk.

I shouldn’t be, but I’m feeling sad, and I’m feeling lonely and I feel like today, I’ve lost myself.

I don’t want to do anything anymore. I wish I could sleep for days on end, but that’s not possible. They make me feel worthless and terrible.

When you’re not here I feel so alone. I don’t have many, or any, people I can talk to who make me feel better.

When I grow up, I want to live in the country. I want to live away from people. Unlike my current house, I want to live in a nice one. I can keep it clean and buy little things to put in it. Little things that are unique. I want to make my own furniture. I want to save money.

And even if I don’t have money, I want to be a happy person. I want to be happy with whatever I have.

I don’t know. I wish there was a time of peace. Sometimes, it’s too hard to pick myself up off the ground. Sometimes I look and I don’t see anywhere I can go.

I wish you were here.

Lovingly,
Georgina

HELLO. And happy October.

As you can see, I finally got around to switching the layout a bit, so it looks damn sexy. And you better admit it/agree. :D

My posts totally on this side (because I have to be after James, heh, heh). And if you comment, the blog appears on the left side and the comments on the right. Told you it looked sexy. ;D

I hate these default emoticons but everyone knows I am too lazy to get around to such things… even if I did manage a literal ten-minute job on EyeThief.com‘s new layout.

I haven’t been feeling well. Poo. Yesterday I had a mild sore throat when I woke up, but during the day it progressively got worse. FML.

I found it quite annoying. I was starting to lose my voice at work, despite taking a lot of honey. (I believe in the natural remedies yo.)

This girl pissed me off at work because she was too lazy to rub out her answers and swap the words around, so she drew fucking arrows showing that she intended the words be swapped. I don’t tolerate laziness.

I don’t think in an exam, a teacher would be bothered to look at your essay and realise that the conclusion was first and the introduction was last, no matter how many arrows you put in.

I should do my assignments now…

OH AND PS. Comment on James’s blog. He’s sad because no one is. :3