Amen To That!

Years back now, when I was younger and much more naive (yes it is possible, don’t give me that look), I was asked by a relative (well-meaning I’m sure, and if not, then what kind of question is that to pose to a young and naive Amanda whose then-current, yet temporary, living and eating arrangements clearly depended on your hospitality?!) whether I believed in God. I remember at the time now, that my eyes grew wide (probably at the surprise and abruptness of the question considering I had just been driven to church (oh my)) and I muttered something along the lines of ‘ooh errr… well…I don’t know’

Definitive eh.

Too right.

But this isn’t a post about that kind of religion and the recruitment (apparently? (Far out, I am so going to be taken down by anyone who recognises themselves in the above situation I’ve just realised, ha fantastic…)) of new followers or believers (hey I really enjoyed The Da Vinci Code and all of the other Dan Brown books (which reminds me, I am about halfway through The Lost Symbol atm and it is brilliant (yes, I am totally caught up in the hype, I went and bought it from Coles the second day it was out (it was on special – prices won’t be beat at $24.48 (jeez Coles should pay me for this stuff… har har)) and sat out in the sun to read it) and I’ll have to post about that bit later) though not really Deception Point which basically everyone seems to agree isn’t as brilliant) in fact, this post is about different religion.

The religion of football (trumpets!)

(Why yes, I am serious) (And I totally hope that you kept up with all my previous brackets)

Because, now I think about it, as we are here in the last week of September, two days after the Brownlow Medal (congratulations must go to Garry Ablett Junior), one day away from the highly anticipated Grand Final Parade (what are you laughing at? Don’t laugh at me!) and only a mere TWO (that’s right!) days away from the big day itself – the AFL Grand Final, my answer to this ‘Do you believe in God question?’ should have been a resounding yes.

‘Why yes, well-meaning yet almost-scary relative (yes, I am aware of the fact I am digging myself into a rather deep and large hole here…it is possible to dig upwards right?!), I do believe in God! I worship him for 22 weeks of the year, hopefully an extra four, and I pin all my hopes on the fact that he can lift me into the highest echelons of happiness, to which, after that point, I shall (provide I am successful in attaining such glee (seen the show?) and joy from the wonder, he shall be adored for even more of the calendar year’.

I mean, I wouldn’t mention the part about my god wearing red, white and blue, a pair of footy boots, a small pair of shorts (hooray! Ha perve), be the owner of a brilliant pair of toned (but not horrendously too muscly) arms and called Jordan McMahon.

(Lol)

Now I’ve admitted that, it sounds rather fanatical, tragic and freaky (pot calling kettle black etc eh?). I was rather obsessed. Back then especially. (and I seriously hope Jordan McMahon doesn’t read this post (ha who am I kidding), because that would be entirely embarrassing, maybe I should stop mentioning his name because I’m not sure how tagging and searching goes with this lol (you’d think years of computer and multimedia studies at school would help this (apparently not!))). But then the traitor (yes, I yelled at out at football matches) changed teams and a little bit of my faith was extinguished (clearly not helped by years on the bottom of the AFL ladder either haha).

But I digress.

We’re in the last week of September and it’s hard not to get caught up in the footy hype. Even if you hated footy, I can’t see how you can escape it really.

It’s like everywhere! Channel 10 is even advertising their 10 hours of footy – all starting from 8am with the Grand Final breakfast.

And Federation Square is filled with footy activities all this week. Check out the schedule for Grand Final Week here. (Free stuff yay!)

Delicious (as Bruce McAvaney said)

Of course, some people are going to be more excited than others (Geelong and St Kilda supporters obviously), so it’s up to the rest of us to decide who we shall be supporting.

It’s a tough choice really, and I think I’m still making my mind up. It’s not like I can’t stand any of these teams (like Collingwood (though it’s still a good thing they didn’t make it into the final because if they did actually win then that would be way more painful ha)) and I like and dislike players from each. St Kilda needs a premiership because it’s been so fricken long, but then it makes the bulldogs look worse! And it would be rather sad if Geelong has been brilliant for ages, yet only won one premiership…

Ah dear, at least I’ve still got two days to decide.

Meanwhile, I think the result will depend on the weather – St Kilda is a rather rain-avoiding team…maybe their players are a little too pretty.

Enjoy the weekend everyone, totally get caught up in it all. It gives you a chance to swear and abuse people, wave your arms about, get entirely loud and unruly, eat pies, drink beer etc etc. Not that anyone needed more (or any) reason to do any of this on any other day, but at least you won’t look too crazy.

And completely off the topic – Boost Juice Name Game is over. No Amanda. No Free Boost. UNIMPRESSED!

Oops…

I was totally caught out the other day. Oh, that sounds almost scandalous, I’ve realised. But no, I was not caught out smuggling drugs overseas (though I wouldn’t mind going overseas – drug-less of course), and no, I wasn’t caught out having wild passionate sex in some public place. And I wasn’t caught out cheating on my hot footballer boyfriend (dammit, why not hmm?! Lol). And luckily I wasn’t caught out wearing dirty undies as I got hit by a bus. Though, I reckon it can be classified along the same lines.

I was totally caught out checking out this guy on my tram. You know the feeling, right? Like he got on, and I was all ‘ooh aah!’ and so I totally glanced/perved/totally stared (I’m not entirely sure how long each of those count for). And he looked back. Our eyes met. And I was all

HOW EMBARRASSMENT!

Ideally (and more extremely optimistically) this could have been the start of something wonderful. Like you hear about those stories where people meet and then fall in love on public transport. Like that girl in New York who was originally from Australia and that American guy who sketched her and got on all the morning tv shows as he attempted to hunt her down. And now they’re friends!

But that is more like love at first sight isn’t it? To which I am not totally sure exists. But anyway, this isn’t a blog about love at first sight (or lust at first sight), but I shall file that idea away in my head for a future post because it seems like a legitimately good topic. This is a post about public transport, and increasingly, the difficulties faced by people without good books to read while they travel on their choice (and I use the word ‘choice’ loosely) of public transport.

I’ve been catching public transport for years now. It’s become like a second nature, yet I still find it difficult as to where to look. I think I’ve been rather scarred from my initial public transport adventures (yes, they have been adventures ha!)

I’ve done the whole ‘bored expression’ – staring out the window like I am completely buggered (that’s ‘buggered’ as in shit dead tired mind you…. (har har)) And I’ve done the whole ‘oh I’m so important I must check my phone’ thing. But I don’t know. Sometimes you do need a good book.

I feel crap the tram is so packed I have someone’s arse in my face because if they happen to look down at me, I could look compromised!

In fact, I remember awhile back now, I was looking PAST this guy out the window, I had my headphones on, and then I noticed his mouth was moving. He actually was talking to me. But it wasn’t all: ‘hey isn’t this tram ride lovely today?’ it was a ‘what are you looking at? What’s your problem?’

He got all loud and scary also. I was rather afraid as I was standing there in my school uniform and I had no idea what the hell he was on (drugs possibly eh eh?!) about.

Maybe I should just keep my eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. Nothing shifty can happen when you’re asleep (or at least pretending to be) right?

But then, I guess I may accidentally miss out on the potential pervy nature of catching public transport.

Name It

Ok. Here I go again (much like Ok Go, but without the treadmills and some snazzy synchronised treadmill action). Really. I’m going to attempt to get this blog going. Like properly. It just seems that while I have the initial ideas in my dense little (no wait, probably oversized) head, they just remain as ideas and only that! I can’t even remember what I posted about last time (far out, how slack), but seeing how productive some of my blogging friends have been has given me a kick up the arse (thankfully only metaphorically).

Far out Amanda (I can hear myself, and other people) saying. Stop being so lazy and actually type something. To be honest (tbh ha sms speak in a blog. Bloody fantastic), it doesn’t take that much to sit in one spot and type stuff eh. Ah dear. I think I would like to claim that I’ve been busy (hey, the words ‘busy’ and ‘lazy’ can be used interchangeably right??) and work tires me out. (man, that sounds lazier than I thought. Crap.)

I’m sorry – in advance for what is about to spew forth from my cold typing fingers (did anyone else get caught in that stupid like 10minute storm and horrendous fringe-wrecking wind??), and also for being all blog-lacking (If anyone noticed lol)

ANYWAY.

Enough of that (too right, I should think)

I’m going to discuss the trend of giving people odd names etc (is that detailed enough? Hmm it’s like doing a topic sentence in an essay (to which I reckon I can still rightly claim I have never done on purpose! Haha (and to think, yes I did actually complete my highschool education))

Boost Juice (yay yummo smoothies lol) have got this promo thing going. They pick names and if your name happens to be one of their chosen for that particular day, you get a free drink. Good stuff I should think.

My name is Amanda, it’s a pretty popular name (I would like to think, I’ve been in many classes where there have been other Amandas’ (right apostrophe placement btw eh eh?) and therefore I’ve had to use the last name to distinguish myself (and oh what a last name to distinguish one by (HA! That could almost be a pun. Jeez I am hilarious somedays)) but my name is yet to surface. And I am thus yet the unreceiver (that’s probably not a word and could be expressed far more eloquently, but lets just go with it) of a free smoothie. Dammit.

When I first heard about this promo I was all, brilliant! They said on their website (and I was told by a boost girl who I served at work) that they pick the most popular names of those who belong to their Vibe Club. The first two names were Glenn and Zara.

I am sorry Boost Juice, but Zara? (Ok, now I’ve said that I am totally going to be taken down by a billion Zara’s who I have offended). I do not know any Zaras!! (That probably deserves an apostrophe somewhere but I’ll leave it as is lol)

Has Zara become that popular a name? Like really?

Ah dear. I sound spiteful.

Meanwhile, Zara has probably enjoyed her free smoothie. (Its given her the energy to put on her kicking boots to come kick me) (and boost juice only had to give away one smoothie? Hahaha!)

Anyway, back to this name thing.

With all the interesting (yet increasingly popular) oddly spelled names out there, there is probably going to be a generation of kids without personalised stationary. Or other gift-y merchandise. I remember when I was younger I was all excited about getting a personalised mug with my name on it. In fact, I’ve still got this mug and it holds a good cup of tea (or hot chocolate) actually. Brilliant. These days though, I have actually been unable to find my name in some gift-y stuff.

Who knew Amanda was on the way out (how sad?), and names such as Tenille and Dayna (Herald Sun Births on Wednesday September 2nd 2009 for those playing at home (I’ve always wanted to say that lol)) are on the way in. Oh dear.

It’s not even just the new names though now is it? It’s the weirdly spelt ones. Like hmm, Ashley, Ashleigh, Ashlee, Ashleeeeeightjakjhsdkjh;ag (Ok that last one is made up but hahaha). And even then, Ashley doesn’t even mean you’ve definitely got a female! An Ashley could be a boy!

OH THE DRAMAS!

(And the ever-increasingly weirdo spellings. Which reminds me actually, there was this person once who wrote my name as ‘Amandah’. An H?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!) Oh my.

It’s the yuppies isn’t it? They’re trying to be trendy, thinking they’re coming up with something new to stand out. Pushing their designer-named babies and kids around in expensive designer-y prams, wearing expensive designer-y clothing, and shopping at trendy supermarkets such as Coles Port Melbourne (…). But this isn’t a rant on yuppies, as I live in a rather yuppie suburb (so I am told). Lol. That’s all.

I hope these parents are thinking about their kid’s futures really! Like how funny will it be to be an old person with a creepy (ok that is so not the right word) young people names? I guess it works the other way around too though eh, like being a young person with an old person name? I remember when we were kids we’d be all ‘yeah, and your kid will be named Ethel or Edith’ or something, and we’d all screw up our noses and laugh like hell. (I actually know young people with old people names (man, I’ve just realised how mean that sounds haha oops, I’m on a roll here aren’t I? (and it’s not a tasty $1.20 one, it’s a scummy no-grain rock-hard stale one… har har oh dear)) And they’re going to be great when they’re old

But isn’t there that trend of going back to traditional type names? Like James and Emma and Olivia and Jack and stuff? Those kids will be lucky enough to get personalised stuff easy. Good for them.

Meanwhile those with new-age names and people like myself are going to have to band together and rise up. In some sort of coup or whatever.

Enough of this I should think.

I’m going back to hopefully see my name appear on the Boost Juice website so I can go and get a free smoothie (everyone likes free stuff, I’ll keep you posted) and think about names to give any potential children I may have in the future. Middle names too. Hmmm, but that opens another can of worms…

Amanda(h?) signing off!

(oh, and congrats to ‘Me and All My Friends‘ on HypeMachine)

Procrastination

 

Recently, I’ve realised that procrastination is a bit of an art form. You may start out with all the best intentions – in terms of being productive and actually getting things done – but then something just worms its way into your mind and everything falls by the way side.

This blog is proving to be a perfect example. I didn’t realise it had been so long and I had all intentions of posting more posts

(Sound believable? I would believe me!)

I’ve had a request to post something new, so I figure I should get my lazy arse moving and actually do it. ‘Amandaaaaaaaaaa’, they all say ‘your blog was so fricken fantastic that I am eagerly awaiting the next post. Get your lazy arse moving and actually post something new!’ (Ok fine, exaggeration. But hey, my head deflated a little with the lack of promising comments on my non-existent new posts (ahem, hint hint please comment, it’s like getting mail, which is still stupidly exciting)).

I need to push past the procrastination which has lately been plaguing me (it’s like a little gnome or something, blocking my way and popping his head round every corner sniggering at me – that bastard. Go back under your bridge/to your little garden, stupid little gnome! And stop asking inappropriate questions!) and sit down at the lappy and get typing.

It’s been cold though. Is that a good enough excuse? Hmm perhaps not. But anyway, back to the point of this post (we’ll get there eventually (I hope))

…when you split up the word ‘procrastination’ it doesn’t sound as bad.

Pro-cras-ti-nation

So, (my definitions, all entirely brilliant I might add)

Pro: being all for something

Cras(s): (admittedly spelt wrong, but that’s ok with me, a bit of manipulation never led anyone too astray) being somewhat rude or unpolitically-correct

Ti: a drink with jam and bread! (Or in real terms, isn’t a ti some sort of bird hmm?)

Nation: a country (that is put in such simple terms I’m sure many of my tutors over the past few years will come and take me down, much like some of my friends who will debate the use of nation and whether it involves an element of sovereignty which then relates back to the UN in some odd way and humanitarian intervention etc etc but I’m sure no one is interested in reading about that at this current moment)

So I’ve come to the conclusion that procrastination REALLY means cras(s) nations are all for drinking tea (ti).

(Or cras(s) nations are all for a particular species of bird?)

Interesting.

We’ve been misusing the word ALL ALONG!

(now is the time you start to wonder, AMANDA HAD A POINT TO THIS?!’

I said I did, didn’t I?

I can be misleading also (but that is the point of another post I think)

Ok, I think it is time for a coffee. This has been a rather failed attempt at a ‘come-back’ post and it probably (ok definitely) deserves a good edit, but that would involve me sitting here a bit longer (without a coffee) and there are so many other things I could do…

…like vacuum

…or tv watching

…or facebook

…or even make a pot of TI! A DRINK WITH JAM AND BREAD!

Tweet Tweet!

I do not own a Twitter account, yet I am going to attempt to know what I am talking about when I discuss the trend to post every little thing that happens in your life in short sentences.

It seems that everyone talks about twitter. The new craze. The new facebook. The new myspace. The new everything!

Ashton Kutcher got to a million twitters. I have no clue what he is talking about. Which doesn’t really worry me to a certain extent. But to another extent (the other certain – if there is such a thing) I am a teensy bit worried.

This is something popular with my generation.

Am I that far behind? Am I that untrendy?  PLEASE TELL ME NO, OR ELSE ALL HOPE IS LOST (and then I shall have no idea what to do when that new Channel Ten ‘Talkin Bout Your Generation’ show comes along. The theme song will start (I’m assuming it’s that ‘talkin bout my generation’ one – yes that is rather obvious, Amanda – by The Who) and I shall be sitting there slowly rocking back and forth with my head in my hands and a scared expression on my face).

Ok, so solution?

Get a Twitter account? At this point in time, I cannot be bothered.

Lazy eh? But really, considering I am not a celebrity and this blog has not taken off as much as I would have liked (comment me please, it is almost as good as getting mail – and by mail I mean actual, literal, hold-in-your-hand mail because emails just aren’t doing it for me these days (mainly because The Age and the Herald Sun continue sending me updates and again I am too lazy to unsubscribe in the hope that one will offer me the chance to win something cool), I doubt anyone would really want to read constant updates about my life.

2pm – Amanda is finishing work, yay!

2.15pm – Amanda is buying groceries – mushrooms, yum yum!

3pm – Amanda is sitting down to watch the Richmond vs. Melbourne game on Channel Seven

3.30pm – Amanda is checking her facebook and realising the only notification she has is something from bloody Superpoke

3.50pm – Amanda is logging into her blog to start typing – brilliance on the way! :D

(Random Thought: yes, Amanda has realised that her lack of enthusiasm to get a Twitter account is really doing nothing for her credibility in the ‘research’ field BUT she would like to think that she knows what ‘research’ entails due to her education provided by very dedicated schools…(no sarcasm…I think) and therefore, despite the fact that she probably has the whole concept wrong due to the fact that she is so behind the times (damn), she reckons she has the general idea) (Side point: no Amanda does not know exactly when she went from first-person to third-person either…)

Celebrities, ok I can see how that could be mildly interesting. They mix with people who appear in magazines! Ha, interpret that how you want it (it was extremely cynical in my head (random thought: yes I am a bundle of fun these days)). Therefore due to the obsession with those of celebrity status it would be interesting to see who they bump into and all the details of their lives which are oh so much cooler than ours.

Politicians, ok. Can they use it as another way to test potential policy? I mean, they are on youtube, myspace AND facebook (wow that is actually getting in touch with voters eh). And I did visit Kevin Rudd’s myspace and watch a couple of political messages via youtube.

(Totally see these ‘Extreme Greens’ and ‘Peas and Promises’ btw, it is absolutely hilarious)

(I studied politics, leave me alone…)

You know, I wonder what Bo Obama is doing right now…

Again, this probably ties into the whole ‘people watching’ trend. The whole Big Brother thing (minus more turkey slapping I hope – which reminds me, I only recently found out what ‘tea-bagging’ was (thank you Urban Dictionary) and unfortunately it does not involve an elegant dunking of a camomile tea-bag into a cute teacup on a patterned saucer!!) and being generally interested in other peoples’ lives (I hope I have my apostrophe placement correct there or else my journalism editing teacher from third year will totally come and take me down).

I guess if you sign up to friends on Twitter then you can feel close to them and what they are doing. Or what they are thinking. Or where they are. Or where they are going…

DOES THIS SOUND A LITTLE STALKERY TO YOU?!

Every breath you take… I’ll be twittering…

Hey Sting! Your song needs an update!

Too right! (I am saying this a bit too much aren’t I?)

I can see a problem arising. Bear with me here, but surely the absent-minded and blatantly a little ‘dense in the head’ few amongst us could fall into a trap.

For Example: Worker and supervisor are friends as well as sharing the same workspace. They sign up to each other on Twitter. Worker wins tickets to brilliant gig and calls in sick. Lies to supervisor (that bastard!). Worker gets entirely trashed at gig, pulls out fancy phone with internet and twitters ‘oh my god, band is awesome, girl next to me has short skirt but knows all the lyrics! I’m in loveeeeee!’ Supervisor reads said tweet. Oops. Hello trouble (especially because supervisor could not fill shift and hence had to deal with shit customers) (True story? Hmmm).

I think I have lost the point of this blog.

People watching is fun though. In person, when you know your hair looks good. How interesting.

Maybe eventually I will actually get a Twitter account. Apparently I am easy swayed (I do regularly impulse-buy dammit, Coles is having a field day with me really), and if so, I’ll keep you all (hey I remain hopeful there is more than one reader) posted considering I am apparently a bit behind.

Whether I am completely untrendy or not will require a separate blog considering the magnitude of the topic.

Haha

4.16pm – Amanda is finishing the current blog – almost time to revel in the brilliance that is Amongst Other Things (please deflate her head at 4.23pm – it gives her a bit of time to prepare for your arrival so she can RUN AWAY)

That was nice

Apparently yesterday was ‘National Compliment Day’. A day where you are meant to say nice things specifically to people to make them feel better or good about themselves.

Wow, I sound massively cynical. Excuse me though, because it is early-ish in the morning – well early-ish to the point where Maccas breakfast is still being offered and if I could be bothered I would totally go and buy myself an egg mcmuffin and hashbrown (why are they not called mchashbrowns btw? There’s a thought of the day!)

Anyway, back to the point. National Compliment Day. It raises a few questions really. Has it really come down to that? We actually need a day to say nice things to people?

I guess in the current climate (both weather and economically) people are feeling a bit down. And to be told that they have nice hair or their outfit is rather snazzy (don’t you just love my choice of words), would tend to bring a smile to someone’s assumedly boring and sad day.

But really, if someone randomly came up to you on the street and said ‘you are hot as’ (or something equally over the top) how would you react?

I think to be game enough to even say something along those lines (and be completely sober at the point of statement) would be pretty impressive.

As far as I can see, there are several outcomes to this (well ones I can think of right now off the top of my head)

1.       Complimentee reacts with a ‘why thank you, random person on the street! In fact, I think you are rather ‘hot as’ yourself. In fact, I can see that we could complement each other rather well if we happen to hang out after this in a relaxing – or not so relaxing (wink wink nudge nudge) – situation where everyone else around us would be entirely jealous of our combined hotness’.

2.       Complimentee reacts with a nervous laugh and ends up incredibly embarrassed

3.       Complimentor ends up cornered by complimentee who has incredibly large ego and thus decided to tell said complimentor exactly how ‘hot as’ look was achieved, including sentences such as ‘oh yeah and this hat I got on sale, it was really meant to be sold for $96 but I got up early and went on the Boxing day sales despite the fact I was shopping for an entirely different season I bought the hat because I figured in winter it would go entirely brilliantly with these opaque maroon tights which were not on sale but then everyone needs a good pair of opaque tights, I figure they can go with almost every outfit and they come in such a great range of colours to match almost everything including these knee high boots ETC’ (too right, style advice and the complimentor has realised they have totally complimented the wrong person!)

4.       Complimentee reacts with a ‘oh really, what do you want?’ due to the fact that the complimentor (oh dear that sounds like the Terminator or something, I’ll be back dammit) looks like a stalker who is after something. Possibly money. Possibly sex…

But it’s true isn’t it? If someone says something nice, the first thing that tends to pop into people’s heads is what the motive is behind things.

Wow, is that the true topic behind this post? Perhaps!

People’s motives.

I don’t think I want to get started into a whole idealism-realism debate right here, but what motivates someone to do something is rather interesting really.

Is it because people have been burned? Or are we all that cynical? And why is it that we automatically think there is some hidden agenda behind a nice comment?

Maybe, after all of that it just depends on the setting. We are so used to being harassed on the streets that when there is actually something nice, we assume it is going to be something bad!

Problem solved. Or at least for now…

Ah dear that sounds a little ominous.

I can see this being debated again.

Gimme my chocolate!

It’s the morning after, the night before.

I’m sure that’s a song. It sounds familiar. Oddly.

What am I talking about, you may ask?

The Easter rush. That’s what.

So, I work in a supermarket. Unsurprisingly I’m a checkout chick. And while this may not be surprising, I would like to think I am not one of those bitches who stand there with a scowl hating life while my hands move slower as they develop arthritis (though, at my supermarket if you scan fast and top the scan-rate then you get a prize! Hooray!) I probably was one yesterday.

There is something about holidays and things going on sale which make people go crazy. And by that, I don’t mean stand in the aisle shaking (though they did that yesterday), or wander around looking at the lights commenting on how shiny and bright they are (they probably did that too when they lost their minds actually), its more the whole change in attitudes thing. It happened around Christmas too actually. And new years.

I should have expected it, working on a public holiday (extra pay, yay!) but hey, seeing a register belt loaded up with gold jingly lindt bunnies still proved me wrong. All Easter stuff was half price, and despite the fact that there was cheaper chocolate on special, just not in cute bunny form, the bunnies were all being bought – no make that snaffled – off the shelves.

There were shelves and shelves full when I started my shift. When I was done, there was one small shelf left. It had two product varieties – probably the reject ones – and I couldn’t help but laugh when one old lady commented ‘I had to dig about the shelf but I finally found a lindt bunny and it was THE LAST ONE LEFT!’

She looked so smug.

Good for her (again, I can’t tell whether that’s sarcasm or not)

What’s worse were the people who asked me whether we had hidden any out back. Or those who complained there were none left and bitched about the people who had taken them all. Or even commented how they’d now have to go to other supermarkets to get their Easter goodies.

It made me wonder whether they were on an expedition. Indiana Jones style. Trekking across Melbourne in search of the Holy Grail made of delicious milk chocolate and possibly with a liquidly ganache centre that is now half price. Too right!

There would probably be a hard-fought battle in this expedition too. An arm wrestle of sorts, with cries of ‘THAT’S MY DARK CHOCOLATE LINDT BUNNY!’, (they’ve been the most popular, trust me on that one) hanging in the air.

To be fair, I did go and have a look at that last remaining shelf, and I did buy a decent amount of Easter chocolate.

Man, I am easily swayed. Damn my potential – no make that apparent – impulse buying attitude. Even though I know the tricks, the whole ‘buy this and you get this one for x amount or free or whatever’, I still fall for it.

It’s probably one of those character flaws which will send me into debt. Or a house filled with useless/unused products. Or both.

Then I’ll be sent crazy in a supermarket wandering around looking at the lights and commenting how shiny and bright they are.

At least I’ll be able to talk to my friends at the supermarket too. Ha!

Ah dear, I can tell this will be one of many supermarket-related blogs.

I apologise in advance!

amongst other things, A is for Amanda…and aardvark

A blog! Hooray. Another one to add to the growing list of blogs out there in cyberspace. In all reality, this one probably won’t be more interesting than anything else out there. But it will keep fingers typing, and provide amusement for a period of time (at least for the blogger).

I should start with an introduction.

I’m Amanda, I’m 21 and I was born about 2am on January 15 in a hospital. Interesting isn’t it. I’m sure you wanted to know that also. How much of an introduction is needed anyway? How far will this blog reach that those reading it aren’t already on my facebook and know the basic details (and probably much more) without reading this? Who knows. It shall be an experiment. A test.

Will I get some random stranger leave a comment here? Let’s wait and see.

(No cheating or misleading, thanks)

I have a bit of a headache. Maybe it is brought on by the pressure I will feel now to do something interesting – so then I’ll be able to blog about it. There’s something a little egotistical about writing a blog isn’t there. You think people want to read about your life. But then I guess people-watching (or in this case, people-reading (is that even correct?)) is all the rage.

Maybe an explanation about the title of this blog is needed. Amongst other things, A is for Amanda. Go figure. Aardvark too. How obvious, and fantastic. It’s the first word in the dictionary I am told. By a reliable source. You learn new things every day. There’s one for you!

What did I learn today? I learnt that not every yum cha place in Melbourne does vegetarian spring rolls. Or really, have a lot of vegetarian options. I don’t know what I expected. It is my dad’s birthday and he loves yum cha so we went as a nice family to a place we’ve been to often. Well not that often because I actually hadn’t been there in a few years, but it was a place that had provided a decent meal and service previously, but their menu had changed, and, since my climbing over the fence from hamburger-downer to friendly tofu-eater had since eventuated, my eating options were somewhat limited. I thought vegetarian spring rolls were a staple though.

Evidently not.

I just want to post something on this blog. I probably should have put more time and effort into choosing a theme for this, but the oh-so-cute (sarcasm? I’m actually not too sure) pen at the top of this theme seemed highly appropriate.

Anyway, first ramble complete. I’ll have to see how this pans out – hopefully well.

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