…Especially my own.

Tonight Jarrod has taken Char to see her first concert, which is My Chemical Romance, and I’m sitting here all alone - except for the company of several cats and a fridge that is DRIVING ME UP THE WALL WITH IT’S SANITY-SHATTERING DRONE. AAARRGH!  Dear gods, between the sandpaper rasp of “one or two” cats licking themselves in unison, and the fridge that won’t stop making that freakin’ sanity-shattering hive-of-bees-stuck-up-it’s-arse drone, I could only experience the bliss of silence if smack my head hard enough against this desk to knock myself out.

 Can you hear the lambs screaming?  CAN YOU?!

But anyway, what was my point?  Oh yes.  My Chemical Romance.  

Jarrod was about as happy as a slow boiling frog to go along to an emo event packed with 10 billion teeny-boppers a fraction of his age, but I was on to a great line of reasoning.  Well, I reassured the lad, at least it’s better than Justin Timberlake.  

And as it turns out, I’m right!  Because every now and then he calls to play a song down the phone.  Anyway, if all else fails, Gerard Way is hot.  Not that Jarrod will necessarily appreciate this fact.

I wish I could have gone too.  I thought they were pretty good at the BDO (what little I saw of them from waaay over the wrong side of the cattle pen).  And what a way to smuggle a fourth person in for free! In my belly!

Okay I’m really tired and it’s time to pick up the munsters. I just hope they’ve enjoyed it, because we paid twice the price for those bloody tickets on Trade Me! 

Oh, and how could I almost forget? Here’s the pre-gig pictures I snapped before dropping them off…

That girl has great poses.  And eventually that semi-permanent red I chucked in her hair for the occassion will wash out…

(Yeah, somehow I think I’ve started her on to something now.  Good bye natural hair colour I’m guessing.)

Where has my shy lil’ girl gone?  This girl is going to cause me some serious headaches…

Gosh, I’m so full of exciting news, I could wet my pants.

First up, about that rotting carcass… A couple of staff members had to fish it out of the skip and stick it in a wheelie recycle bin to try and stifle the stench until the police could turn up and tell us if it was human or not. (Turns out it was bigger than a dog, which provoked much speculation between a call to the cops in the morning, and their arrival some time that afternoon.)

As much as I kind of hoped it would be human on the chance the ensuing investigation would grant an afternoon off work, it just turned out to be a cow.

There.  Wasn’t that exciting?  I know, I know, now stop trying to hump my leg.

Now for the next ground breaking news story…

A short while ago, our fridge finally gave up the ghost.  It was to be expected, being that it was old enough to defy carbon dating.  So we forked out $600 from our savings and bought a new fridge (hooray for J’s staff price at NL.  Hooray for savings).

A couple of weeks later, that fridge died, so  they sent out a replacement fridge.

This weekend, that fridge also died.  (We’d only had it a week.)

And in the same weekend, so did the washing machine.

Next it was the vacuum cleaner’s turn to pack it in.  Again same weekend.

Oh, and I spent all of Sunday wrapped around the toilet bowl and begging for death in recovery of whatever terrible thing I ate the night before.

The lesson in this? I had a suck weekend, and household appliances hate me.  That’s right folks, I am not destined to be a house-wifey domestic goddess.  Well, that’s a crying shame.

Oh, did I mention the car cost us $650 when we took it to get serviced - somewhere in between fridge two and fridge three packing it in?

But wait! There’s good news!

I saved a lil’ baby bird on Friday night from the deadly clutches of my feline familiars.  And rather than die of shock in the nest I’d made for it in the bedroom, it actually survived to wake me up chirping the next morning! An incredible tale of survival really, considering it’s make-shift nest was made of the last of J’s clean socks.  (See, even when clean, they can be deadly.  That bird defied all odds.)

Of course, as I was leaving to take little Chirpy Chirp Chirpy-Pants (or whatever Char had named it) to the bird lady, Char’s cat shot inside with a dead blackbird in her mouth.  …Which kind of reverses karma a little, especially when the fledgeling was also a blackbird.  Mummy blackbird perhaps? So umm… I guess we’ll be seeing more lil’ dead blackbirds around sometime soon…

Hmm, I remember a nursery rhyme about blackbirds being bloody tasty in a pie?  Just kidding, I’m no slack-jawed Joe.  Really.  But well, Christmas is just around the corner, and now that the grand old Xmas ham we didn’t have got spoiled in the broken fridge, we gotta eat somethin’. Right? Here kitty kitty…