School Night Antics

I'm kinda annoyed right now. I wrote this fabulously succinct post about 'school night antics', otherwise known as 'shirking responsibility', and Blogger decided to be an ass and not save my document.

Thus I now start again with less enthusiasm. Perhaps because I feel thoroughly robbed of the good twenty minutes it took to write the original post.
Anyway,  rant over.  I'll simmer in private,  victimize ants and kick dirty clothes all over the living room.
So 'school night antics' is a summation of my predisposed notions of tucking in at night,  eating peanut butter and watching television versus exploring other options despite the alarm clock due to blow my mind in four or five hours time.
Perhaps childhood instilled the deep seated need to be indoors from Monday to Friday rather than soaking up the possibilities of after dark entertainment. But the ill-conceived belief that my head might explode if I stay up past bedtime has been shattered.
I went out. On a school night. And the world didn't end. 
However, on this new journey of self discovery I've entered into in recent months,  it's become clear that although my body appears to be up to the task of partying me into the wee hours and still functioning like a sensible adult the next day, my common sense sometimes gets left behind. Thus a few delicious cocktails,  wine,  dinner and a barrel of laughs with good friends = I totally forgot I was my own designated driver. Needless to say that I now welcome the possibility of new experiences, explore options that may offer brief glimpses of belly-clutching laughs and face-changing smiles,  but the trick is not to get lost in the vastness of forgotten responsibility.
What say you? 
Have a good one everyone,

Kristy ;)

Everything is Pozible!

So some of you may have noticed that I have been crowd-funding for one of my up and coming releases 'Diary of a Teenage Zombie'. To say that I have been successful is an understatement and only because of the support and love from the multiple friends, family and book lovers out there.
Now thanks to the wonderful people listed below, I now have the opportunity to continue producing this novel and quite probably the next novel in The Hunted Series. I cannot thank you all enough for your contribution and will literally be shouting your names from on high for a very long time.

Robert Deskoski
Roy Smith - two generous pledges under the belt!
Maki Nakagoshi
Ebony Gardner
Emma Power - two very generous pledges to assist!
Glen Jackson
Anna Garratt
Sharn Swain - An absolute legend with one of the highest pledges aimed entirely at support!
Colleen Clarke
Cherie & John Fransen
Vicki Wenmoth
Stephanie & Peter Jackson - The most generous pledge of the entire pozible campaign.
Kathie Wright
Yuri Kurokawa
John Hundley
Seiara Berridge
Christina Davidson - two very generous pledges in support of a friend
Lauren Huston
Penny Miles
Chantelle Davidson
Kelly Mills
Cherie Curtis
Jany Thao
Dr Gavin Le Sueur
Donna Rondeau
Estelle Le Sueur - With an extraordinary pledge that knocked my socks off!
Narelle Mills
Dr Grant Golombick - an extremely generous pledge from a great friend
Shoko Iwabuchi
Alysha Wincen
Hope Lawrance
Soraya Mills
Amanpreet Suaan
Dr Sami Moid
Kev Webb
Wynys Davidson
Dr Donna Usher - A generous pledger with a big heart determined to see me succeed!
Kathryn Francis
Peter Jackson
Alissa Jaye
Liz Daniel
Kylie & Dan Thompson
Damien Gray
Ann-Marie Boland
Marinda Bronkhorst
Paul Berridge - a super generous pledge, thank you!

(Anonymous) - There were five anonymous donations all together. I respect your right to privacy and won't drop names, but I know who you are, and thank you for your support!

I'd also like to give a special mention to Navaro Berridge who offered more love and support than anyone can ever hope to ask for. Thanks a million. I couldn't have done this without you.

Thank you again guys!

Kristy :)

Jazz Bar

Okay so I've done it again, I missed Follow Friday. But don't I always justify my missing of this venture with some weird and wonderful exploration of strange terrain in my otherwise relatively dull existence?
Recently my Follow Friday desertion was due to a pyjama party - thirty year old women sipping wine, singing bad karaoke and scaring the shit out of me with a late night viewing of The Exorcist. This time my absence was due to visitation to a jazz bar.
I don't personally listen to jazz. Don't get me wrong, I've got absolutely nothing against it, it's actually quite soothing but not exactly the kind of beat that gets you bouncing to your feet and head banging until the wee hours of the morning (not that I head bang). It was pleasant, unexpected and something I've never tried in the past. Though admittedly it did feel like happy hour at the retirement home.
There I was in my skinny jeans, up-do, and impressively cruel high heels sipping cocktails with my friends, only to be surrounded by a sea of geriatrics. Just about all of us were carded, though I suspected it was mostly because of the bartender's cataracts and our ability to walk around the bar without a walking frame. We probably looked like toddlers to the regulars.
To top it off, our hostess was clinging desperately to her youth, forcing the sagging flesh of her once ample cleavage into a barely there triangle bikini. I especially loved how she topped the outfit off with a see-through leopard print camisole and a side of slick perspiration to highlight every groove and line of disapproval on her craggy face.
Enter a photographer. Whether intentional or not, he snapped away like a Japanese tourist with endless film, possibly shocked to the core that anyone under thirty crossed the threshold and stayed longer than a pit-stop at the restroom.
All in all the drinks were good, the food was good and the company (my mates) was excellent. The band put on a good show despite the fifteen minute intervals for bathroom breaks, and I even appreciated the fact that I could hear the person next to me at all times. But hopefully my Follow Friday will be back on board by next week. I don't expect another romp with the senior citizens anytime soon, though I look forward to the next adventure my friends will undoubtedly talk me into.
Happy weekend everyone,

Kristy :)

The Missing Kristy

You may have noticed I've had a 'Fifty Shades of Grey' review posted on my blog for well over a week. Yes, I did enjoy the book, but no, I didn't leave it up to emphasize this point. I have been AWOL - at a wedding to be precise.
So for this wedding I have traveled far and wide, starting with Friday night, yet another Follow Friday meme I missed due to social engagements (look out, the Hobbit's getting popular). Anyway, the festivities kicked off with a great (but long-winded) dinner on Friday night. Mind you, with a three hour wait, I would have eaten the tablecloth and the bloody waitress by the time 10.00pm rolled around. Saturday morning I was up early to catch the boat to a beautiful Island off the coast. A quick laugh at a green mother, a friend who couldn't pull her nose out of Fifty Shades of Grey, and thirty minutes of fretting about possible shark attacks and we were on the Island. From there it was primping and preening, spack-fill for the wrinkles, and control-top panty hose for all the dessert I inevitably devoured.
Needless to say the wedding was absolutely perfect, and I did my best to ruin every photo with a crazy-ass expressions. So, I'm just going to let the pictures speak a thousand words and show you the short version of my unbelievably, non-alcoholic fueled shenanigans. Yes. I was sober.
On another note. I made my friends and family stars - you know, just to protect their identity. No one wanted to admit they were with me on the night.

Okay, so there are like a gazillion more where they came from. But, I'm not posting so you can point fingers, merely to provide proof of life. I am still here, back in business and ready to blog about useless crap once more *cups ear to hear round of applause*. Well ... anyway ... thanks for tuning in, and I'll see you all soon!

Kristy :)

Danger Mouse

Sometimes I hate Saturday posts. I've barely just finished doing the Follow Friday meme before I drag my tired ass off to bed and then boom, it's Saturday, I have to work and then pull down the post I just put up and a erect a new one.
Yes, I sound like a disgruntled council worker, but truly, on a Saturday, sometimes I'm brain dead and really have to scrape the bottom of the barrel for a decent read for you all. Alas, today is no different. My rather uneventful life has thrown yet another mediocre week at me that I feel obliged not to bore you with. So, in light of the fact that I am truly uninspiring this week, I thought I'd post about a friend who consistently makes me laugh with her urban tales of foreign room mates, and her unashamed deluge into foot and mouth disease.

I'm going to call her "Danger Mouse".
So Danger Mouse has a way with words, sentences recently erupting from her mouth like; 'I'd slaughter an orphan for parents like yours', and 'I'll give you five cents to saw my foot off'. Although, nothing quite beats, 'Agh, my cat scratched my palm and now I look like the Easter Jesus'.
Other stimulating conversations with outsiders have included:

Stranger: 'You should have seen my son when he was born. He was two pounds nothing with long legs like a frog.'
Danger Mouse: 'So did you take lots of photos of him among shrubbery?'. *deftly shows how small baby could have hidden in dense foliage with long spindly legs*
Stranger: *laughs politely, looking for exit*

Danger mouse has also informed a gay man that 'no sucking is allowed', scared the crap out of her boss by hiding in storage cupboards and screaming 'boo' in an effort to see how quickly she can cause angina, and I hear, confused someone who has narcolepsy with a necrophiliac.
Um ... yeah.
I love Danger Mouse. She is a petite showstopper with a seemingly endless stream of irrational thought and an honest to God deranged sense of humour. I'm not sure how I'd cope Monday mornings without her. Thanks, Danger Mouse - for giving me a Saturday blog I can reflect on, knowing there's an excellent chance you might kill me next time I see you in some weird and wonderfully "Dangerous" way.
Happy Saturday all,

Kristy :)

The Hobbit Lets Loose - Or Does She?

You have probably often heard me refer to myself as a Hobbit, mostly on account of my lacking social skills and fear of my neighbours. I love the solitude of reading books, writing my novels, and generally staying indoors where it's dry, safe, and absent of confrontation.
Don't get me wrong, I do go out occasionally. In fact, a few months ago I was out until two in the morning at the clubs, dancing until my feet hurt and sweating so much I slid all the way home and collapsed into bed by three.
I do have fun ... when I get there.
The problem for me is getting motivated. The idea of going out seems like a lot of work and I'm more of a button pusher than a doer. I keep thinking about how long it will take to shower and put make-up on, how long it will take me to choose an outfit after I scream and cry about my thighs for a few hours. And then of course, I think about the giant waste of money spent on watered down drinks, the too loud music aimed at deflecting any and all conversation, and the dirty old men that leer at your butt when you walk on by.
Alas, a colleague of mine finished up at work the other day and he decided to have good bye drinks at a local bar. After my sorry excuse for a showdown with my thighs, I finally bit the bullet, let my brother-in-law choose my outfit to negate drama, didn't bother doing anything with my hair, and lightly re-applied the make-up I was already wearing.
Two hours later I was in the car on the way home again.
It was too bloody hot, the music was too loud, and I saw Jesus ordering drinks at the bar - that just aint right. Oh, and I stopped for ice cream ... twice.
Needless to say that leaving the house is a fattening activity with little highlight. On the upside? I got to say goodbye to my friend and give him a sqidgy before he departed. I also got my sugar rush and a quiet ride home.
Yes. I am a sorry excuse for an under thirty.

Hobbit - out. :)