2003-03-18

It has been a week of psychological foreplay, bits of things teasing at my brain, making me feel like a true psuedo intellectual.

And it would seem that I have given myself the right to hypothesise on many a pop psych topic, although I have no formal training in psych or human behavioural studies. There was the Jujitsulady summary of "How men and women think differently", delivered to C-gal in her South Yarra apartment. Then there was the "How your family can fuck with you mentally" speech of warning to the Crusty one, whilst walking thru Princes Park in a vain attempt to shed kilos. Then there was the self pep talk of "No-one is looking at you cause they're too busy looking at themselves", delivered to myself after an evening where I committed several fashion faux pas and ended up dancing on a bar somewhere in Moonee Ponds.

And in between there have been several little dissertations on buyer behaviour to my boss, a team building exercise that went slightly askew at work and left two people in tears, and a Jujitsulady "solves the World's problems in half an hour with a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin" loud banging on in the backyard that consisted mainly of me talking to a lemon tree.

Lordy knows why I feel as if I have to sort out the big deals of the world this week but such as it is I feel quite calm and relaxed albeit facing the onset of another stupid bloody war. Hell, I am usually such a panic merchant - I had a Y2K compliant garden full of self-sustaining veges and a cupboard full of torches and batteries in December 1999. Ah, those were the days. Contemplating life being just like a crap 70's British sit-com with Penelope Keith in it (The Good Life, for those of you who can remember that far back). And now, with the prospect of war looming what am I doing? Making pretty handbags in anticipation of the Racing season starting up again in September. Oh, and drinking an inordinate amount of gin.

I have decided it is better to glamourously if one has to go at all. Come the big boom, my nails will be painted, my hair will be done, I will be wearing something tres interesting, holding a gin in one hand and a cuban cigar in the other. Hopefully there will be a handsome man in close proximity that I can pash as the sun sinks into the bloody sky, the Sarin gas creeping ever closer over an unusaully desolate urban landscape. What a great movie it will make! I think I should be played by Kate Winslet (she has the chest for it), and I'd like Spike Jonze to direct. "Jujistulady - drunk n lovin' it", and perhaps a sequel "Jujitsulady - kissing the bomb's arse".

La la la, mind is wandering, in desperate need of another bottle of the Sapphire. Hooray for Lesbians.

bitch - moan