To the cunning bitch working at a certain clothing store in Subiaco,

I know what you're doing, don't think I don't. Don't you believe for one second I don't understand what you're playing at with your big friendly eyes and your "I think you need a smaller size" malarky. You think I need a smaller size? Balls you do: you think that just because you flatter me into squeezing my plump, juicy buttocks into a smaller-than-usual skirt size, I'll go ahead and buy that skirt despite the fact that a)I don't need it, b)I can't afford it.

I just want you to know that the fact I went ahead and bought said skirt had nothing whatsoever to do with your shameless and utterly transparent sales(wo)manship and everything to do with how excellent my arse looked it in. You lose!

Faithfully,
Kate.

One for the journos

"THERE’s one thing political journalists become experts on, it’s lying."

You can read the rest here.

Question time

1. Having complained all week that I have taken on too much why am I such a suckhole I had to put my hand up for another work assignment, thus dooming myself to failure and a healthy bout of hiding under my desk?

2. Why has my car started making a weird rattle that means I have to alternately poke the ashtray and/or tap the gearstick while driving in order to escape the audible illusion that my shitty 1988 hatchback is filled with wasps?

3. How the fuck do I put my sim card into my new iphone?

Reasons I should not get a super short delicious French bob

1. My face is as round as a beach ball.
2. My hair is neither sleek nor straight but prone do doing a curious impression of an angry cat when roused.

Um, that's all I got.

Today's revelation:

I THINK I can get an iphone and continue paying exactly what I'm currently paying to run my amazing Nokia 3210. Today is a good day.

Overheard in my house

ME: Your new haircut looks awesome, I love it.
ANDY: Yeah my little gay boy did a great job, didn't he?
ME: Your...?
ANDY: He's a little guy and he's young and he''s gay!
ME: (Uncontrollable laugher)

It's funny 'cos it's true

Going up and going down

You know those little 'what's hot, what's not' lists that glossy magazines and weekend liftouts alike are so fond of running? You know how, every time you read it, at least one item and possibly all 5, 10, 15 items on there are guaranteed to make you blow up, start spouting obscenities at said magazine and demand to know what sort of authority its author has anyway? Yeah this is one of those lists, strictly limited to my own world, of course. I'm sorry.

GOING UP

Perth's skinny indie boy population. Clearly I just don't get out much because heading to Capitol for The Doves last week? I have never seen so much hot indie boy meat on display. A roomfull of skinny boys who look like they've been raised in a dark room? Colour me delighted.

Wine. Remember that period in my life where I thought about cutting down on this most delicious of vices? Yeah, that's out.

True Blood. Oh what's that you say? I never shut up about this bloody TV series? That's because it's awesome. This is the series that takes vampires + porn + cheese and stirs until it tastes motherflipping delicious. Oh yeah and each new male character is hotter than the last. Can we talk about Godric? Can we please??

GOING DOWN

Jumpsuits. Just say no, no, no, no. Did I once own a black ra-ra skirt? I cannot deny it. Was I fond, for a time, of wearing a certain denim skirt/black leggings combination out in public? Yes, yes I was. But none of this justifies the (re)emergence of jumpsuits as a fashion trend. Unless we're going to go full[on Star Trek and co-ordinate the entire flipping WORLD'S outfits (under which circumstances jumpsuits would be permissible), I just don't want to know about it.

Food from the work cafeteria. Say it after me: Don't. Eat. The. Creamy. Pasta. Ever.

The 7pm Project. Not bad enough to be good. Not good enough to NOT be circling the drain right now.

Misery-chasing: For all the times I have used the phrase “insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results”, I am incapable of recalling who said it first, or following their advice.

Hello... operator?

Believe it or not I do try not to wank on too much about my day-to-day personal life on here. Not really because I am shy about discussing such things in a semi-public forum but because my personal life is generally pretty dull. Last night, for instance, I lay on the couch and watched Weekend at Bernies. Don't get me wrong, it's a great movie, but an interesting anecdote that does not make.

But the phone call I have just had is too good/disturbing/weird not to pass on.

ME: (Answering my mobile) Hello Kate speaking.
MAN: (Mumble mumble mumble)
ME: Sorry, could you speak up I can’t hear you.
MAN: (Mumble mumble) Is Katherine there?
ME: Uh yeah speaking.
MAN: I was just wondering if you’re still single.
ME: (Sure I've misheard) Um… what?
MAN: (Very politely) I was just wondering if you’re still single.
ME: (Kinda laughing) Who is this?
MAN: I’d rather not say unless I know what your answer is.
ME: Oookay. Well no, no I am not.
MAN: So you’ve found someone then?
ME: (Now properly laughing) I have. Who IS this?
MAN: Well I’d rather not say now.

Well played, random anonymous man who somehow has my mobile number.

Mental note: good luck with that

“The secret of happiness is to admire without desiring.”
(Carl Sandburg)