So my sister hates being alone in the house at night, and my mother wants to do something about this. So I am chubby, and my mother wants to do something about this. So we live in a crappy area, and my mother admits that there's nothing she can do about this. Obviously the only solution is to learn a martial art.
When I was a little girl, growing up in a rural farming village in the heart of China (ok Blenheim) I studied karate for about 4 years or so. Sadly I was more like Po in Kung Fu Panda (well-meaning and determined, but ultimately ineffective (okay, and fat)) than actual Master, but it was fun. I also had to do behaviour charts - something to do with discipline & respecting one's parents - but hopefully I'm now deemed old enough to skip those.
So Kate and I are going to trot happily off to the dojo (I think that's what we're going to trot off to, anyway) and become karate warriors. KARATE WARRIORS!!!
In other news, I was just compared to 'Charon in disguise' by an ex. "Well, you're the boat to hell, aren't you?" Charon wasn't the boat to Hell! He drove the boat to Hell. Important distinction. I don't even have a boat. Also, I don't charge. Charon charged. Why am I the boat to Hell anyway? Just wait until I can kick people's asses, then I'll show you the boat to Hell, buddy.
Speaking of pointing oneself in the direction of Hell (see what I did there?) I have sent off my CV and cover letter to two reputable businesses, and joined a temp agency. Mainly because I can no longer take the "La la la, I can't hear you, bananas in mah ears!" approach to my quickly dwindling financial hoard. Sigh. Spend spend spend go I. Dwindle, dwindle, dwindle goes it. Spend! Dwindle. Spend! Dwindle. Spend! Dwindle. Check balance! Fuck.
This evening I am going to my impossibly coloured friend Andrea's house - her husband is away and she needs company.
No, not like that. We are going to watch the first episode of American Idol, Season 12 Billion, and laugh heartily and cruelly at the pitiful contestants! Ha Ha Ha! And then maybe NZ's Next Top Model ("Go back to Methven, bitch") if it's started yet. And have some wine, and maybe watch a DVD (although she has many, I have offered to go to the DVD store because I have a crush on the guy who works there. I have become much more punctual with my DVD returns. Let it not be said that my tendency to have crushes on everyone is without its fringe benefits!) It will be nice! It will be nice.