Monday, October 18, 2010

I'm Sorry Lissy, I'm Afraid I Can't Do That

The most glorious thing about living in our age is technology.  Where our ancestors worked themselves into the grave by the age of thirty-five harvesting corn, we can go to the Coles website and order corn.  If we can't be bothered constructing a whole meal around it, we can order corn fritters instead. Hell, if we can't even be bothered chewing, we can order creamed corn.

The point is that computers can come to the rescue for just about any "Meh, let someone else do it" scenario.  And they're very good at it.  Even obsequious in their desire to please.

At least, they always have been.

Today, my computer gave up on me.  In a most unwelcome realisation that nobody can make it do stuff it doesn't want to do, it decided it was all too hard, and it would rather sit back and make grindy whirry noises rather than be my slave any longer.

So it presented me with this message:

For the record, there were NOT too many spelling or grammatical errors.  It was just sick of proof-reading for me.

And the obstinance didn't end there.  When I accepted I would have to work things out for myself, it thwarted my every attempt.

Failed?  You didn't even try.

I hate you, computer.

Happy As A Pig In The Proverbial

Today Ellen and I went to the dog park for a bit of a treat.

Ellen found the only mud-puddle, and led all the other dogs into it.  Even though they hadn't shown any interest before.

She had a very lovely time.

And took all that mud back into the car.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Ten Things I Would Do If I Had A Monkey

  1. I would call him Gerald.  I would not get a female monkey.  Female monkeys are too ambitious.
  2. I would teach Gerald to drive and make him drive me to the supermarket on a Saturday morning, and if we couldn't find a park, he would wait in a no standing zone while I went in and got crisps and milk for me, and monkey food for him.
  3. I would let Gerald have a Facebook page.  Until he tired of it.
  4. I would go into a cafe with him and the waiter would say, "You can't bring a monkey in here," and I would say "What monkey?" and the waiter would get confused, and he would say, "OK, what do you want?" and I would say "I'd like a latte, one of those caramel slices and a banana."
  5. I would teach Gerald to speak when he wanted something, and he would teach me to screech when I wanted something.
  6. I would make Gerald brush his teeth, but he could only use his own toothbrush, or the Fella's.
  7. Sometimes I would dress Gerald up and put him in a pram and wheel him around, and when people came over to coo and stick their fingers in the pram, he would bite them before they could recoil in horror.
  8. I would play Scrabble with Gerald and take advantage of his poor spelling.  I would always keep score, so I would never let him win.
  9. I would make Gerald walk Ellen.
  10. I would teach Gerald to format a large bibliography and ensure references were consistent throughout the body of a large thesis.
Actually, it's mostly number 10 that I want a monkey for today.

Friday, October 8, 2010

A Very Quick Post On Account Of There Being Very Important Things I Should Be Doing Instead

Today I am supposed to be writing a thesis.  It's less than four weeks till I'm submitting it, and there are still many things to do.

Nonetheless, this morning I tore myself away from it to go to Fyshwick.

No, not for that.

They're not allowed to sell us fireworks anymore.  (By that, I mean Canberrans - not just me and the Fella.)

I went to the pet shop.  Honestly.  And I bought one of those tennis ball throwing-stick thingies, and the Fella was most disdainful, and then I cried a bit and I reminded him that of all my school reports, the one that still stings me is the Grade One report where my teacher observed "Lissy cannot throw or catch balls." And then the Fella felt really bad and said he'd buy me a present, or bake me a lemon-based dessert.  I can't remember which.  Maybe it was both.  Yes, now I think about it, it was both.

The point of the story is that today I realised there are lots of things I like about Canberra.  As I was driving  along on my merry way to Fyshwick, a car passed me that had a lacy blue bra fastened to its front grille.  Of course it's possible that it was residual evidence of a hit and run, but I think it was intended to be a parody of that strange accessory, the car bra.

Canberrans appreciate the visual pun, and can chortle about it with their friends at the Farmers' Market.

Whereas, if you tried it in any other town people would think you were from Canberra.

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