I don’t know if it was the LemSip MAX {not sponsored} or the copious amount of time spent napping in the past day or two, but all of a sudden I had some random ramblings and I thought I might share them. They’re not overly thoughtful nor meaningful, but they’re here. That’s what counts. Sometimes I wonder where these posts come from. Most of the time, I don’t. They just kind of show up. And you can see that for yourself. 

Sometimes I shop online. I buy clothes. I don’t really need and lots of them. Other times I find random cool things like make-up or my iPad Castagram case. I’ve been doing some adding up, and it’s gotten rather extensive. It turns out Hubby’s business expense was really nothing to be cranky about. Gulp. The guilty creeps in. I was hoping you could remind me to link you to my online clothes store sometime, yes. I need to replace some of the money I’ve spent. Whoops.

I was watching an old episode of Friends, as I do, because my gorgeous Hubby bought me the entire box set, bless him! Anyway, in this old episode, Ross was talking about looking from his apartment into Monica and Chandler’s apartment when he felt lonely and not feeling so alone any more. And after I got over the creepy {ha!} I thought to myself, blogs are like that. Blogs are sooooo like that. So picture me, at your window, looking in. In a good way, of course. A non-creepy way.



Speaking of creepy. I saw the strangest man loitering around my car this week. He was standing next to it. Walking around it. Hands in pocket, ciggie hanging from his mouth. This happens sometimes. People get curious about my good-looking girl. Loiter around to see who’s driving it. Stop for a chat about it. But this guy looked different. Like he should be in an old John Wayne movie. But, creepy. He didn’t look appreciative. He looked pissed. Like maybe my car had slapped him across the face with a glove, and there was about to be a dual pissed.

I considered my options {you know, for getting home without my car} and then went on over and said, can I help you? Is this your car? Creepy cowboy asked. It is, I said. Well, I dropped five dollars under there, and I can’t reach it. Could you move it, please? Sure creeper, no worries, I thought as I nodded and got in my car to leave as quickly as possible. Strangely enough, this is not the weirdest encounter I’ve had concerning my car. Please remind me to tell you about the mob of Asian boys who followed me around the Valley in Brisbane one day.

My sister hates spots. Polka dots. Dots. All of them. She hates spots. The poor kid is basically running from store to store with her eyes covered in horror this season because of all the spots. I have on spotty top. I wore it on a day I knew I wouldn’t be seeing her. To avoid the whole, oh god, dots, they burn my eyes conversation. And then she called me, asked me to lunch, and totally busted me wearing spots. So I had to tell her before we met up. I confessed the top. She said, you better have a cardigan to put over that. And I totally did. Phew. She might have disowned me. She really, really hates dots.

Oh yeah, in other news. I have a stalker. Recently acquired. You’ll all be so proud. All safe at this end at the moment but I’ve put some blocks in place, and we’ll go from there. It turns out there’s only so long you can go shaking your bootie on the interwebs before you get a stalker. For me, it was 2 years and 10 months for those playing at home. It’s been a weird week, what can I say?


What say you? What’s new with you? Any stalkers?

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