The Glad Game – The polyester edition

*Cough, splutter, comedic cacophony*

<Didn’t work on the focus group either. Moving on…>

Ladies and gentlemen of the void of nothingness, let’s play the Glad Game!

*Deep breath*

* I am glad that I have socks, despite them being absent from my feet. They’re cute socks. They have little panda heads on them. Don’t tell PETA.

* I am glad that I have made some (I use the term VERY lightly) progress on my assignment.

* I am glad that I had a lovely afternoon.

* I am glad that R and I have a good balance of shared interests and unshared interests to keep things interesting. For example, we share an interest in photography and music. Conversely, I’m a shoe enthusiast and he is not. It’s a match made in myth.

* I am glad that I have a home, resources, fulfillment, people to care about and people to care about me.

* I am glad that (for the most part) I don’t take myself too seriously. I just need to stop talking to myself.

* I am glad that no one really reads this, or I’d probably be in a spot of bother by now.

* I am glad that the more I play this game, the better I feel. (Although, and I don’t mean to sound un-glad; I do still have cold feet)

* I am glad that I am not really a mutant sea wench.

* I am glad to live on this land mass. The inhabitants are far from perfect, but they’re alright.

* I am glad that to date, I have not met JJ at the pit toilet along the Golden Highway. AHHHH! Head on a stick!

* I am glad that I have this game to play.

& so she bored them to tears.

In lieu of a proper post, the following sentences document the life and times of a non-event.

* I desperately want a non-USB record player.

* I should not have eaten fish for lunch.

* K-2CommonNames hasn’t been online all day. Should I be concerned?

* The probability of statistics lectures putting me into a boredom induced coma and/or an anxiety spin is significant to the level of p <.001.

* I love that R is into photography, too (as long as I am not the subject).

* Avoiding gluten seems to have “cured what ails” me. In addition to settling digestion, a life-long skin irritation also seems to be improving. Interesting.

* While I am glad that I seem to have determined the cause of some health problems, it is unfortunate that I now want to eat a loaf of bread covered in flaky pastry, dusted with flour, served with lasagna and a side of pie.

* It frustrates me that some chefs use ‘wheaten corn flour’ instead of ‘corn flour’. I wanted a toffee apple! (Healthy? No. Possible impulse buy? Yes. Did I actually buy it, though? No.)

* I occasionally worry that people may think that I am trying to be a trendoid by avoiding gluten.

* It’s crap that over the last few years, doctors have told me to avoid gluten, then that gluten isn’t an issue, then to avoid gluten, then that gluten isn’t an issue, then to avoid gluten. ARGH! That said, this current attempt has been the most successful. I think the symptom phase played a part in the success or failure of each trial.

* Stationery stores are fun. The blank pages have so much potential.

* I keep dreaming about Stargate. Yeah, I know. LAME! A dear friend who shall remain anonymous – KENBOX – abused his mystical powers as a Therapist to MAKE me watch it. Ten seasons and two spin offs later, I am now re-watching it. As a result, I have found myself dreaming of ridiculous things, such as:

– RDA and the dude who plays Dr Lee impersonating R and T respectively (a friend who could be mistaken for a style of food, not Teal’c. Don’t take that in a cannibalistic way). Faux’Neill walks into a bar, to find “Dr Lee” drinking copious amounts of beer alone. Concerned, Faux’Neill enquires about the reason for said drinking. Dr Lee replies that he is drinking for “research”. Faux’Neill asks “If this is for research, shouldn’t the beer be free?”

– After watching the two part season 8 finale (the episode in which Daniel Jackson wears the bad Hugh-Grant wig), I dreamt that Daniel Jackson had potentially world-ending dandruff.

– Last night Samantha Carter helped me wire a calculator up to a car battery.

* My rather fluffy cat fell asleep on a solid chocolate Easter egg. Said egg melted, and Orange Mocha Frappuccino is now chocolate coated.

* I’ve had the song ‘Caligulove’ by Them Crooked Vultures stuck in my head for four days. Now it’s being sung by Bowie.

* RDA is kind of pretty, and I can say that, because there are moments when R reminds me a little of RDA. Don’t think about that too much. The mullet wig is safe on the hat rack.

* Speaking of racks, might I ask why old women seem to be fascinated by my non-moobs? Even other people have noticed the stares. Sorry ladies, I’m taken.

* It all comes down to gravity.

* My live-in Tim Gunn-wannabe style commentator thinks that my cute hat is a bit too Michael Jackson.

* Children scare me.

* Monkeys are cool and all, but I don’t think the cats would welcome one into the home.

* I hope you didn’t think that this would be a meaningful or carefully constructed offering. My brain is mush.

* Sometimes I day dream about taking photos and writing stories. Ebay sells everything but talent.

* Other times I day dream about sleeping.

* Sometimes I also night dream about sleeping, which is frustrating.

* A lady in the kitchen at the office told me that eating bread results in her becoming flatulent… while buttering toast. EVACUATE.

* I really like sparkling apple juice.

* Jacques le Couteau is cute.

* My laptop charger seems to have failed. This is the second one to do so. It just doesn’t!

* During my first (and to date, only) pedicure, I almost kicked the pedicurist in the face. Sophistican’t.

* I bared my arms in public for approximately three minutes in the name of fashion (or rather fashion acquisition).

* Apparently my top with frilly cap sleeves makes me look “odd” when I wear a cardigan over it. I have scoliosis. I’m defective. I can’t help it!

* I’ve been summoned to the kitchen. Oh, the bliss of domestic duties.

Happy Saturday.

Agnes S.

Oh, and P.S. the above was a mid-stream of consciousness creation. Don’t critique it too harshly.

Happy birthday, Champ

Like your very first pet (Fluff Fluff), your first ever best friend holds a special place in your heart.

Today is my first best friend’s birthday.

Thanks for giving me so much to laugh at (like you eating rocks), so many fun memories (like walking around and around in circles to this song) and so much to be proud of.

Photo credit: Grandmother Stone.

No, I won’t roll over.

The content of this space seems to have shifted into musical territory, with a lack of actual input.

I have felt a little weary of posting my recent ramblings, as most have been written in a make shift diary. This hesitance bothers me, as hitting that Publish button initially resulted in a sense of emotional release. So, in the spirit of pushing myself past obstacles and ignoring other-self preservation instincts, I will share with you the mundane content of my notebook.

So when I get it together and update this thing, grab a cyanide soda and try not to drool on your keyboard as you are lulled into a deep sleep.

First though, I need to chill some apple cider.

Sincerely the poor man’s Stilnox,



among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused & frightened & even sickened by human behavior. you’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited & stimulated to know. many, many men have been just as troubled morally & spiritually as you are right now. happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. you’ll learn from them – if you want to. just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. it’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. & it isn’t education. it’s history. it’s poetry.

-j.d. salinger Catcher in the Rye

A dinner with a twist

After recovering from Psychosmas for another year, we were onto the next phase of celebration in December: The Annual Aging Ceremony of Agnes Stone

The night before, we met with the Stones. Unfortunately Mick and Keith couldn’t make it, so I had to make do with my relatives (I love you, too. Honestly. No, seriously, I do. Maybe even more than I love Mick and Keith. Probably not though). We were pleasantly surprised to discover that the restaurant pays homage to Italian food a few nights a week, and that we would be lucky enough to sample their attempts at pasta and pizza for less than $10 each. Party time. Excellent.

We shared laughs, food and stories of Christmas: The Aftermath (the follow up to Christmas by Calendar, and Christmas by Arrangement). I received generous gifts of money (for shopping in Melbourne) and some very cool shoes that do not look like they are made out of checker plate. I put them on at the restaurant, and managed to walk from the table to the bar… On the second trip, I mistreated my ankle. It wasn’t quite the twist my cocktail called for.

We wished each other pre-emptive Happy New Years, and said good bye with bloated bellies and smiles on our faces.

I said good bye to a wrinkle-free face when I got home.

Christmas by Arrangement

After a relaxing Boxing Day, we woke early to get ready to celebrate Christmas – The Sequel. This time, we only had one destination to get to, and it was an exciting day: It would be the first Christmas with the newest addition to the family.

We had loaded the car with presents and were on our way. We arrived later than planned. It’s a ‘Christmas tradition’, not a social flaw!

We were greeted with well wishes and coffee. We excitedly waited for the eldest son to arrive after retrieving forgotten gifts. In the meantime, we shared stories of Christmas – By Calendar and ate shortbread.

The gift giving commenced – The pile of discarded paper quickly turning into a mass rivaling Mount Everest. Beautiful books, a shiny new camera, some thoughtfully selected ballerinas and delicious home made fudge. The Gift du Jour was definitely an inflatable, remote controlled, “moo”-ing reindeer moose.

Exhausted from exchanging presents and thanks, we sat down to eat. For hours. Having skipped breakfast, the glasses of bubbly earlier on had left me feeling light headed. After a few mouthfuls, we sampled the Redman 1977 Cabernet Sauvignon. Delicious. This was followed by more food, and a glass of 12 year old Peterson’s champagne. This was one of the most sublime luncheons I’ve attended in some time! Pavlova and pudding rounded off the indulgent meal.

Feeling fizzy from the champagne and sugar high, we went outside to watch the newly acquired remote controlled helicopter (sadly not inflatable) meet it’s inevitable doom. I watched some spectacular frisbee moves.

We went back inside to play the Spicks and Specks board game. We laughed, looked confused and encouraged those brave enough to sing.

Feeling worn out after such a fun day, we wished everyone well and made the trip home.



If it’s okay for the day time soaps to do it, then surely a pseudonym can too.

Prior to Real Christmas, we celebrated Flipmas in our household. Flipmas is a celebration balancing alternative sensibilities with good hygiene. It shuns the commerical notions of Christmas and is an opportunity to catch up with friends and relax prior to diving head first into Psychosmas (Christmas craziness – It’s a real psychological term. I read it in one of my text books… it’s written in hand writing suspiciously similar to my own).

‘Flip’ of course is an exclamation, adding the required festivity to the event. It is one of those multi-purpose words – For example: “Flip! I’m so excited about Christmas”, or “FLIP! I’m going to FLIPPING FLIP the next FLIP I see FLIPPING FLIPPING”. Given that ‘Flip’ is such a versatile word, Flipmas embraces people of all cultures, beliefs, shoe sizes and genres.

After spending weeks painting, building, cleaning, mowing, sweating, wishing for air conditioning, organising and consulting Martha; the day finally arrived.

A hostage managed to use the festive mood to his advantage, and briefly escaped. His commitment to freedom was most clearly demonstrated when he rejected a food bribe. After gracefully tackling him while uttering unmentionables, he was returned to captivity his sanctuary.

We exchanged gifts, then sat outside, laughed, ate and drank the night away. It was a great night of eventual relaxation and helped replenish the sanity required to deal with the imminent craziness.

Thank you to all in attendance.