To My Sister,
I am sorry for saying you have ginger hair on your Facebook page. You don't have ginger hair. Most people can see you don't have ginger hair and I hope you don't have any 'friends' on your Facebook account that don't know you well enough to know that you DON'T (I repeat, DON'T) have ginger hair.
If anyone ever says you have ginger hair I will personally write you a reference saying you DON'T have ginger hair. Again, I'm sorry for the confusion. Your hair is very NOT ginger.
Thanks in advance for accepting this apology.
Love,
Lipsty
16 July 2009
15 July 2009
Reverse Sigh-kology
Holler! I'm guessing that to successfully undertake reverse psychology on yourself you have to have a certain level of intellect. This is clearly a level that I've not reached yet.
Example A: Recently, I have realised that my fear of cockroaches has spiralled out of control. This dawned on me numerous times, but especially when my hair fell on my face and I thought it was a cockroach so smashed myself in the side of the face with my mobile phone, leaving a bruise on my cheekbone. I thought, something has got to give. So I tricked myself (a little more so than I care to admit). I decided to try to think of cockroaches around my garden as pets, and to let them be and try to adjust my feelings toward them rather than adjusting their life spans.
Result: I realised I'm a pet killer. Despite their new status as 'pet,' I was still mauling them with gallons of cockroach spray.
Side effect of the result: Feelings of sadness knowing I'm a pet killer. Who knows when I'll stop? I'm scared to walk past the park in case I suddenly decide to kill the neighbours golden retriever.
Lesson for the general public: Don't ask me to pet sit when you go on holidays unless you want to come back to find Fluffy and Wiggles lifeless and stuck to the ground covered in white spray.
I'm really not very good at this stuff at all. It can go either way, I feel ridiculous because I know I'm tricking myself, or I trick myself really well, forget I'm tricking myself, let myself down and then feel like a failure...then ages down the track I remember I was tricking myself and have to deal with the effects of mixed feelings - pride that I tricked myself so well, and fright that even I can trick myself so well.
When will it end? Hasta la vista cockroaches, thanks for making me realise I'm a sigh-ko!
I wonder if Oprah kills cockroaches? I wonder MORE why there are so bloody many cockroaches in Taiwan. I wonder EVEN MORE why the hell I'm still here with all the little stinkers!
Who's to say in this crazy, mixed up world.
Love to you and your pets!
xxxx
14 July 2009
Public Displays of Affliction
Holler! What is it about hobbies that make them so attractive? I'm one of those people that come up with a new hobby every other day, some of them more wholeheartedly than others. I guess this blog in itself could be thought of as a hobby. Obviously a rather sporadic one, but a hobby nonetheless. I admire people that can do something on a super regular basis. However, right now I'm hiding behind this lame excuse that I blog in waves because 'it's my style'. Let me carry on thinking that.
As I'm typing about hobbies, I am feeling the numb effects on my fingertips of my latest 'hobby'. I'm learning the guitar. Ouch! It hurts for the first few weeks hey! I took up the guitar as a direct response to the stresses of changing jobs and moving house.
Speaking of which, my house is awesome, however it came at a great price. The tenant before me obviously hadn't been taught too much about keeping a clean house or taking out trash. As a result, 1.5 years worth of beer and wine bottles and pizza boxes were very strategically placed all throughout a one bedroom apartment and its garden. Awesome! The only redeeming thing in this situation was that it afforded me the opportunity to witness some of the most bizarre human behaviour I've witnessed to date. Examples include, but are not limited, to the following:
1) The downstairs neighbour complaining that the noise from the front door of the apartment (the sharehouse I was living in before moving upstairs) was too loud, so kindly doused the whole thing in peanut oil. Not the hinges of course, but the other end of the door. Is the door quieter? No. Do all of the occupants of that house have sticky hands all the time? Yes.
2) The painters took the liberty of having a nap on my bed. Yup, all three of them, snug as a bug in a rug. On my bed. When they didn't respond to my 'evil eye' I realised it was best to leave them there.
3) The aforementioned downstairs neighbour biding her time, then seizing the chance to run through the front door in the sharehouse, through to the back of the apartment, around onto the balcony, in what could only be described as rat-like stealth, to start furtively working away in the corner of the balcony. When approached by a rather irate yours truly, she went on a rant in Chinese about how she was helping us for free and no one takes care of the building but she is doing it all for free, hero this, hero that, shut up lady, get out of my house lady. Wild, nosy woman on the third floor!
4) The sliding door man was supposed to come to replace the fly screen doors (said ex-tenant/animal ripped a hole in them for his cats to pass through/shed their fur all over). He called me at 10am on Saturday morning to tell me to get down to the 7-11 two blocks away and help him get the doors upstairs. One can imagine what I told him to do with his doors. I was paying a decent amount of money to have him do the work, he was happy to walk away. Weird!
As a result, the joke of the month continues, "the last tenant left his cat here, there it is, coming out of the hole in the fly screen." What can I say? I'm not removing the filthy hairball from the door. Judging by the way he lived up here, it may even be his own fur.
5) The garbage woman came bright and early on Sunday morning to clear more of the debris that was left behind. After giving her careful instructions, I stumbled back to bed. About 15 minutes later I suddenly woke up and decided to check on her, just in time to see her murdering my aloe vera plant in what can only be described as a frenzied attack. After confiscating them, a bit of CPR and some repotting I am pleased to report that they are all doing fine, however, I have been woken during the night to hear them crying out with nightmares of 'the incident'.
So, like I said, these are but a few examples of the tyranny I faced while trying to get this place back to a reasonable condition! Tough crowd.
In all of these people's defense, they have given me something to write about, not to mention the phobia of Taiwanese tradespeople. Just kidding, this is just a small sample ;)
Anyway, here's a quick acrostic poem (no Tuesday is complete with out one) before I choose one of my hobbies to hoe into before I say my prayers to Oprah and hit the hay.
Excuse me, how gross.
Xylophones could clean better than you.
Truly, what a shambles.
Ech, I feel sick, sick, sick.
Nothing seems to clean off the scum.
Arrrghhhhhhh so yucky.
No, thanks. I won't accept your apology.
Thanks for nothing, wanker.
Heartfelt, emotional and full of raw feelings. That, dear readers, is a window into the pain I am feeling right now.
Until next time, don't cast the first stone unless you're in a glass house.
Lipsty
xx
As I'm typing about hobbies, I am feeling the numb effects on my fingertips of my latest 'hobby'. I'm learning the guitar. Ouch! It hurts for the first few weeks hey! I took up the guitar as a direct response to the stresses of changing jobs and moving house.
Speaking of which, my house is awesome, however it came at a great price. The tenant before me obviously hadn't been taught too much about keeping a clean house or taking out trash. As a result, 1.5 years worth of beer and wine bottles and pizza boxes were very strategically placed all throughout a one bedroom apartment and its garden. Awesome! The only redeeming thing in this situation was that it afforded me the opportunity to witness some of the most bizarre human behaviour I've witnessed to date. Examples include, but are not limited, to the following:
1) The downstairs neighbour complaining that the noise from the front door of the apartment (the sharehouse I was living in before moving upstairs) was too loud, so kindly doused the whole thing in peanut oil. Not the hinges of course, but the other end of the door. Is the door quieter? No. Do all of the occupants of that house have sticky hands all the time? Yes.
2) The painters took the liberty of having a nap on my bed. Yup, all three of them, snug as a bug in a rug. On my bed. When they didn't respond to my 'evil eye' I realised it was best to leave them there.
3) The aforementioned downstairs neighbour biding her time, then seizing the chance to run through the front door in the sharehouse, through to the back of the apartment, around onto the balcony, in what could only be described as rat-like stealth, to start furtively working away in the corner of the balcony. When approached by a rather irate yours truly, she went on a rant in Chinese about how she was helping us for free and no one takes care of the building but she is doing it all for free, hero this, hero that, shut up lady, get out of my house lady. Wild, nosy woman on the third floor!
4) The sliding door man was supposed to come to replace the fly screen doors (said ex-tenant/animal ripped a hole in them for his cats to pass through/shed their fur all over). He called me at 10am on Saturday morning to tell me to get down to the 7-11 two blocks away and help him get the doors upstairs. One can imagine what I told him to do with his doors. I was paying a decent amount of money to have him do the work, he was happy to walk away. Weird!
As a result, the joke of the month continues, "the last tenant left his cat here, there it is, coming out of the hole in the fly screen." What can I say? I'm not removing the filthy hairball from the door. Judging by the way he lived up here, it may even be his own fur.
5) The garbage woman came bright and early on Sunday morning to clear more of the debris that was left behind. After giving her careful instructions, I stumbled back to bed. About 15 minutes later I suddenly woke up and decided to check on her, just in time to see her murdering my aloe vera plant in what can only be described as a frenzied attack. After confiscating them, a bit of CPR and some repotting I am pleased to report that they are all doing fine, however, I have been woken during the night to hear them crying out with nightmares of 'the incident'.
So, like I said, these are but a few examples of the tyranny I faced while trying to get this place back to a reasonable condition! Tough crowd.
In all of these people's defense, they have given me something to write about, not to mention the phobia of Taiwanese tradespeople. Just kidding, this is just a small sample ;)
Anyway, here's a quick acrostic poem (no Tuesday is complete with out one) before I choose one of my hobbies to hoe into before I say my prayers to Oprah and hit the hay.
Excuse me, how gross.
Xylophones could clean better than you.
Truly, what a shambles.
Ech, I feel sick, sick, sick.
Nothing seems to clean off the scum.
Arrrghhhhhhh so yucky.
No, thanks. I won't accept your apology.
Thanks for nothing, wanker.
Heartfelt, emotional and full of raw feelings. That, dear readers, is a window into the pain I am feeling right now.
Until next time, don't cast the first stone unless you're in a glass house.
Lipsty
xx
03 July 2009
Editing Prize
The first one out of my one fan to find the typos in the previous blog post will receive a free 10 minute session on Skype with me.
Letter of Thanks
Dear Crabs,
You don't know me. My name is Lipsty, I'm an Australian writer/editor living in Taiwan. I've been a big fan of you guys ever since I was a kid. On a trip to the Philippines a couple of years ago I realised that there was something I could do to get even closer to you guys - crab walking.
Ever since that day I have regularly paid homage to you by crab walking in a range of different situations, to a range of different venues. Below is a list (not complete) of different ways I have indugled in crab walking:
1. I crab walked to the 711 once
2. I crab walked for part of the journey to walk the other day
3. I crab walked up and down a flight of stairs
4. I crab walked around my classroom once
5. I crab walked into an elevator at a major department store
6. I crab walked from my table at the pub to the bathroom once
7. I crab walked from my scooter into Starbucks once
I could continue for ages but I don't want to waste your valuable time as I'm sure you also have a lot of crab walking to do. I just wanted to thank you guys for changing my life and giving me something to be passionate about.
Here's to many more crab walking excursions.
Yours sincerely,
Lipsty
You don't know me. My name is Lipsty, I'm an Australian writer/editor living in Taiwan. I've been a big fan of you guys ever since I was a kid. On a trip to the Philippines a couple of years ago I realised that there was something I could do to get even closer to you guys - crab walking.
Ever since that day I have regularly paid homage to you by crab walking in a range of different situations, to a range of different venues. Below is a list (not complete) of different ways I have indugled in crab walking:
1. I crab walked to the 711 once
2. I crab walked for part of the journey to walk the other day
3. I crab walked up and down a flight of stairs
4. I crab walked around my classroom once
5. I crab walked into an elevator at a major department store
6. I crab walked from my table at the pub to the bathroom once
7. I crab walked from my scooter into Starbucks once
I could continue for ages but I don't want to waste your valuable time as I'm sure you also have a lot of crab walking to do. I just wanted to thank you guys for changing my life and giving me something to be passionate about.
Here's to many more crab walking excursions.
Yours sincerely,
Lipsty
01 July 2009
Punctuation!?,,,,,
Just as a quick side note, I've noticed (along with others) in my new writing and editing job that I am a bit tight with the old punctuation. I've never been one to chuck in an extra comma here or there. I'm, going to! start, turning over a - new leaf,,,,,,.!
Holler at me, if, you think! I'm' missing out on any punctua,ti,on marks!
Word!
Remember That Time You Didn't Write A Blog for 27 Days and Other Observations
I'm remembering that time! Seems like a distant memory now that I'm tap dancing on the keyboard preparing to write something Earth shattering to give my anonymous readers something to while away the seconds (or maybe even minutes if I can be bothered). I love observant people. You know who you are. Particularly when they catch you doing something damning. Even better, is an unobservant person who snaps out of their daily haze to catch you at your worse.
Like the teacher who'd miss all of my friends' typos on their school assignments but managed to zero in on my "pubic relations" report. Certainly a lot more fun than "public" relations. Although, others would argue that the best past time of all would be "public pubic relations" - ooohhh the thrill of getting caught.
Like my ESL student who always wrote "bog" instead of "dog" but managed to catch me out leaving an "o" out of balloon. The little dude couldn't string a sentence together but rose to triumph over his teacher. It was a simple writing error, by the way, it had nothing to do with my propensity to spell simple words. Needless to say he didn't receive any stickers for a week.
Like my taxi driver the other night who waited for me to nestle into my sticky, stinky seat before announcing in Chinese, "you're a foreigner." I'm sure had he realised the magnitude of the awkward silence that was to follow, he never would have pointed out the obvious to me. I'm not sure if was the pasty white skin, the blue eyes or the curly "mother of pearl" hair that gave it away. Who has "mother of pearl" coloured hair by the way? I think it's more a tooth colour than hair, it's certainly not the colour of my hair. A lot of fun to declare, too. Actually, this guy isn't even a good example of what I'm talking about - but never mind!
Anyway, I guess I'm going to stop playing hard to get. I've been asked by my one fan (you know who you are) to keep the blogs coming. So I will. Just for you. If you're willing to read the rubbish that I drivel on a regular basis, then I should at least be forthright with the drivel.
An interesting exchange that I had at my favourite local Middle Eastern restaurant tonight:
Waitress: Would you like the Egyptian cigars?
Me: No, I'm Australian.
Sometimes 2 + 2 really does equal 5.
Stay tuned for Friday's newsflash of the week. Back by popular demand - designed to keep my fan at bay ;)
Remember to thank Oprah before each meal, remember if it's a cheap curry you'll be in the bathroom for days afterwards and that it's easier to kill two stones with one mockingbird...or whatever.
Lipsty!
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