friday update, plus krispy kreme depletion rate stats.

sorry, but i have to keep this really business like.

hence the list:

1. there are 4 krispy kreme donuts left in the fridge.

2. gigi is on the up and up. i have cleared wood bits from back yard but at the moment she is lounging on her bed in the... lounge.

3. princess is home again. she is sipping on a honey and lemon concoction which tali's grandmother from school told me about.

4. i had morning tea with a friend. we ate two scones each, and half a spinach and fetta pastry thing from one of those chain bakeries that i detest.

5. we discussed going to the gym and walking/running regularly together.

6. we also discussed frock hunting and scrapbook making for wedding.

7. i haven't had a scrap book since i was in love with this man:









8. featuring adam ant twice in one week on my blog is a bit excessive, don't you think?

9. tammiodo asked who adam ant was. some people gave some info. in the comments section of a previous post. but for a more comprehensive answer, read on. adam ant, aka stuart goddard, was around in 1981. or that's when he started to get a bit more successful. he appeared in a punk rock* movie called jubilee, by derek jarman. adam had screen time totalling about 3 minutes, but i went to see it three times with naomi when we were in hsc, in 1981, at a dingy, shady cinema in town. my other friend di and i would raid the local newsagents for these sort of fold-out magazine things that were imported from england, cost a bomb but had the best pictures. i don't know if she made a scrapbook, but i know i did. i was 17. i got as many of his records as i could. singles. lps. we're talking vinyl here, kids. some of the sleeve artwork was incredibly fuelling to a young girl's crush fantasies, such as these:



























his early songs were really different to his current stuff (at the time) and i felt adventurous and special because i hunted them down and listened to them and knew the words. i remember some lyrics:

"blood gushing, like a shower, plastic surgery!"

um, that's all i can remember.

i went to both his concerts at festival hall, wearing blowsy white shirt, wide piratey belt and skirt of some description. this went well with my black, suede, pixie boots, a la duran duran. i hunted high and low for those boots, and managed to find them somewhere in the city. they were my pride a joy. simone and i bought a picture story book of waltzing matilda, all tasteful and arty, and wrote in the front of it. something friendly and grown up and not at all crushy. and put our phone numbers. and addresses. and went to the southern cross (hotel which is gone now, but might be coming back?) and was allowed through the throngs of on-heat girls to walk it into the front desk. the girls stared at us like they wanted to stab us. we were in our school uniforms too.

then it all went horribly wrong. no, he didn't call. no, my fantasies did not come true. but that's not why it all came crashing down. it all went sour because the next album he released was this one:










so what? i hear you say.

look closer:











when i had fallen in love with a highwayman with a jacket like this:




















how could i love a fop? so it all came to an end. i don't know what happened to the scrapbook. i wish i still had it. i've still got the records. they will come out one day.


10. i have to call officeworks and find out the turnaround time for printing my job.

11. john is going to the footy tonight. i guess i'll be thesising.

12. i think that's all. so much for the brief list. i spent far too much time on the adam ant bit. but it needed full explanation. it's the least i could do, considering the history.





* for some reason, this expression makes me sound like a nana.