Online Hermit

You may not realise this, but it is entirely possible to continue living in a house after having eaten the entire contents of the refrigerator, freezer and pantry. In fact, i have mastered the skill of shopping for food only when it becomes an absolute necessity - for example, when i am down to eating a meal of instant mashed potato, 2-minute noodles and savoy biscuits. For some reason, these are the 3 things which seem to abound in our house and they are a true sign to me that it's time to shop. Nothing says get off your arse and buy some real food like a plate full of Deb and artificial chicken flavoured noodles.

It's not that I don't love food - because I do. I have shelves and shelves of recipe books that I use at every opportunity. I'm just insanely lazy. This laziness means not being able to muster up the motivation to get in the car, drive to the shops and push my way through a bunch of other unmotivated looking people to get my groceries. I'm thinking of maybe trying online grocery shopping, but have shied away from it for fear that I might soon become such a computer nerd that I will be a hermit without noticing. I do pretty much everything else online already.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realise that it may already be too late....

Hen's Night

It's a hard choice to decide whether your Saturday night should be spent with oiled up, overly-muscular men thrusting their stuff in your face or sipping champagne and running from canvas to canvas sketching a nude, heavily tattooed man - but this was the choice I was faced with and decisions had to be made.

The oiled up men came with a boat ride down the Yarra River on what turned out to be a very balmy evening, as well as all the alcohol that I could consume. The naked tattooed man offered something different from the norm - the chance to give my drunken drawing skills a go.
I weighed up my options, and in the end I opted for the tattooed man. The idea of 3 male strippers was just a little bit less appealing. With the nude model, I knew exactly where he was going to be at all times - no surprise lap dancing or grinding.

The idea of a male stripper is fairly unappealing to me. It all seems fine until he's down to his g-string and threatening to whip it off - then you start hoping that he'll keep it on, because you know what's under there isn't exactly the prettiest thing to look at. Male strippers are a thing of the 80's. They had their time and now it's all a bit daggy - like perms and leg warmers, only more risqué.

So i went with the life-drawing class, which turned out to be a laugh. we ran from canvas to canvas, adding to each others drawings while the model remained completely un-fazed by the fact that 25 liquored-up girls were giggling at him every time he dropped his robe.

Definitely an interesting way to spend a Saturday night.

The sin will come out, tomorrow!

I am starting to have serious concerns that my fingers may be dyslexic.

Now I know that my brain is not, because as I type, I know exactly what should be appearing on the screen, and my brain thinks that my fingers are on the case, however once I go back over what I've typed, I find that things are not as they should be. Letters are jumbled up and in some cases, missing completely. This is a serious issue, and I was thinking that some kind of remedy is probably needed in order to get my typing back on track.

My first thought was a bit of tough love - discipline them into doing what they're told. Then I realised that beating up your own hands is not an altogether easy job, because a good and proper beating requires the use of heavy blunt objects, which must be lifted and swung around - usually requiring 2 hands to do so.

My next thought was that perhaps I could do a bit of positive reinforcement. I thought this through a bit more and couldn't come up with an adequate reinforcer. What would a hand like? What would a treat be? The only thing I could come up with was a manicure, and it's not entirely practical to give your hands a manicure after each correctly typed sentence. This idea went into the rubbish with the first.

My last thought was good old fashioned yelling and threatening to take things away. I gave this a bit of a go and found that yelling at my hands only seemed to further distract them. I threatened to take away the very shiny engagement ring that they love so much, but they saw right through my bluff and just laughed right in my face. (side note - hands laughing in your face is incredibly similar to hands waving in your face)

I'm at a total loss. I'm stuck with these challenged hands of mine and the problems are beginning to affect my life. I have to say - it's not ideal to have hands that often type the word 'sin' instead of 'sun' when you're designing playground equipment for kids. A spell checker will not pick up the fact that you have labelled something a 'smiling sin face' instead of a 'smiling sun face'.

I think i need to get my hands some serious help before it's too late...