Ever wonder what a cat does all day when you're not home? Aside from running the universe (see Missycat's Principles of the Universe for more information, they sleep. A lot. Time-lapse proof:

I'm a collector. I don't really start out thinking, "I know, I'll collect something! Now what shall it be?" I just have an interest in something and I get one and then another and then another and it sort of turns into a collection. I have unicorns, dragons, fairies, Bible translations, movie screenplays, fonts, perfumes (well, I actually do wear and therefore consume those, but I do collect them), and probably some other stuff that doesn't spring to mind but which I do collect (I seem to have acquired rather a lot of books about The Beatles, for example).

One of my more recent collections has been rosary beads, of all things. I am not even a little bit Catholic. I was raised very mainstream Protestant, and until fairly recently I couldn't even go into a Catholic church without feeling like I had a big sign over my head that said "LOOK! A Protestant!" I don't know how to recite a rosary (yes, I looked it up on the web, but as I don't have the Hail Mary permanently engraved in my memory, it's a bit hard to do a rosary, plus the whole "decades" thing totally confuses me). I understand that it's a means of counting prayers and following a pattern of regular devotionals, but it still eludes me. Perhaps you have to be truly instructed to really catch on? Or grow up with it, I suppose.

However, the thing I like about rosaries is that they can be real works of art, and I love the idea of a physical object of devotion and faith like that. Rosary beads are very personal. Some rosaries are jewellery, too, which is very interesting. They're just really fascinating as objects and in concept, I guess.

I have a lovely little "finger rosary" that's quite small (hence the "finger" terminology) made of hematite beads with a larger rose quartz bead (it's just one "decade", so you'd have to repeat it five times to get a full rosary in). I also have a really funky gorgeous handmade rosary necklace that has these gorgeous and strange candy pink and gold beads (it's a rosary with attitude!). I also have several rosary style bracelets of various materials (Swarovski beads, carnelian, smoky quartz, silver). And, my favourite, an antique rosary with milkglass beads, made in France. I carry that one with me most of the time. I take it out now and then and hold it because I actually do find it comforting. It's just a nice object, one that I treasure. It doesn't matter if I can actually "say the rosary". I still get pleasure and comfort from these objects.

So there you go. If you want to send me something, I'd be happy with a rosary, especially if it's an unusual one or a gemstone one. Maybe one day I'll actually memorise the Hail Mary. But probably not.

My Presbyterian and Dutch Reform ancestors would turn in their graves if they knew my interest in rosaries, I think. After all, a cousin of my grandmother once scandalised the whole family by marrying a Catholic! (I hate to think what they'd make of the Ganesh figurine and the Laughing Buddha on my desk, or that Dancing Shiva figurine in my room...).

I've been very happy all day, for no particular reason. I love when that happens. Last night there was an interview on television with Jerry Seinfeld, and he was talking about how much nicer life is when you just stop to enjoy something in the moment. Like, a really good parking place. Or a good cigar. Or a nice cold drink of water on a hot day. Just take a moment and think, "Yeah, this is good." I agree with that completely. Life really is better when you try to live in the moment and enjoy the moment when you're in it.

Right now, I'm listening to The Eagles and it's not too hot in the house, but the fan is on, and that feels really nice. I've got bare feet. My jeans are getting too big on me (when I walked Miranda to school, I had to keep pulling them up, heh). I'm wearing Gucci perfume. Andrew's here, watching television. The kids are in bed. Life is good. Right now, at this moment life is good.

I'm starting to suspect that living in the moment is the way to achieve enlightenment, actually... Whatever, it's damned pleasant to just be. You know, the great I AM. I am, and right now, everything is fine.

Tell me, how long, how long
Woman, will you weep?
How long, how long
Rock yourself to sleep

How long, how long
Muddy river runs so deep
How long, how long
Goodnight baby, rock yourself to sleep

I'm completely shocked and sickened by the story of what Lori Drew did to her daughter's former best friend. In a nutshell, the woman stalked her, preyed on her, humiliated her, emotionally tortured her, drove her to suicide, and now feels no remorse whatsoever, and maintains she did "nothing wrong". The officials in her backwater Missouri town seem to think the same thing, despite the fact that Lori's actions clearly violation laws already on the books for predatory behavior against children.

I feel so angry and helpless when I see injustice like this. It makes me feel so hopeless about the world. And it makes me angry. Grown women should know better than to play head games with vulnerable little girls!

What goes around comes around. I hope Lori and her family are prepared to eat the harvest from the seeds they've sown, that's all I can say. And when it happens, I hope it makes international news.

Well, it looks like the Liberal Party (the Australian Liberal Party is the most poorly named political party in the world, I think, as they are the opposite of liberal) has lost the federal election. And it seems that John Howard may well have lost his own home seat, the one he's held since 1974, so that even if the Liberal party did win the election, he still wouldn't be a member of Parliament at all, and therefore wouldn't be Prime Minister (apparently, the only Australian Prime Minister to lose his seat at an election was Stanley Bruce, who lost his seat of Flinders when his government/party was voted out in 1929).

I must say, I'm pleased. I'm not the biggest fan of Kevin Rudd or the Labor Party, especially, but I despise John Howard and I have for some time. The joke was that John Howard was so far up George W. Bush's backside he can see Tony Blair's feet. Then, not long after Tony Blair retired, we saw a story on the news about Bush going to get a colonoscopy, and Andrew and I both immediately thought, "Well, they need to get Tony Blair out of there now that he's retired." Now, I guess Bush is going to have to get another, to get John Howard out of there....

Today is Zoë's birthday. I wrote a bit about that in her journal thingy if you want to read what I wrote. I'll be writing more tomorrow or Monday, after her birthday party at McDonald's on Sunday. She's eight years old today!

It's also my maternal Grandmother's 102nd birthday. I was very pleased when Zoë was born on Grammy's birthday (she was three weeks early; I didn't think it would be possible, but there she was, born not long before midnight).

So, happy birthdays (see? the title of this post wasn't a typo!).

It's also election day. I'm hoping we can get rid of John "Wouldn't Say Sorry if he Shot God in the Foot" Howard. We won't know for sure until much, much later in the day (due to time zones and all that), but maybe we'll have happy news before I go to bed (apologies to readers who support Mr. Howard; I just can't stand him for many, many reasons, and I'm going to vote accordingly).

So, Happy Birthday, Zoë, Happy Birthday, Grammy, and Good Riddance, Mr. Howard (I hope).

It's the card that requires a prime minister to frighten whatever wavering voters still exist back into his tent by warning them that they'll — wait for it — change the country if they change the government.

It's a shampoo ad (a spoof one) but it may not be work safe (no nudity, but you probably don't want anyone at work overhearing it).

See (and hear) what I mean? They definitely still rock!

*squeals like a schoolgirl* I've got the new Eagles album, and I am having a great time.

That fantastic vocal harmony, and some of the songs harken back (I've always wanted to use that phrase) to the Eagles early days (gotta love songs written by J.D. Souther, in my opinion, and no, he's not an official member of the Eagles, but he's been closely associated with them since the beginning and has written or co-written a lot of their songs). Got some cynical social commentary (thank you, Don Henley), got some sentimental love songish things (note: The Eagles almost never do proper love songs; they always do bitter ones, or sad ones, or about-to-break-up ones, or co-dependent ones, and so forth), and a couple that strike me as being surprisingly spiritual, or at least insightful. This is a damned GOOD album. Do not hesitate to buy it if you're at all interested!

Oh, happy, happy SIGH. Imagine me with an expression that's a combination of bliss and excitement.

Damn. They definitely still have it. I knew that when I saw them live at Rod Laver Arena (yes, I was there one of the nights they were filming for the "Farewell I" tour DVD), but this album so totally confirms it.

Hey, this might be enough to break the Beatles kick I've been on lately (maybe)...

Well, I've lost some weight. I don't know precisely how much because I don't weigh myself. But I can say that I've been exercising regularly (I walk forty minutes a day, five days a week, although I don't do the whole forty minutes in one go), and I have a swim once a week, usually. I've also cut back on the amount of fat in my diet. I'm not counting how much, but I've got a very good idea about what foods are high in fat and what foods aren't, and I've scaled back the high fat ones pretty dramatically (it was hard at first, I was really craving fat, but I've adjusted now).

Part of this is necessity. If I eat too much fat in one go, I get very sick. This is on account of having my liver dump a whole lot of bile directly into my intestines (since I no longer have a gallbladder). Part of it is it's a pretty good way to lose weight slowly and naturally and sensibly.

So I've been working on losing some weight just for my own health and comfort. It's not a vanity thing. I don't have a problem with being someone Peter Paul Rubens would have liked to use as a model (I can just see myself cavorting nude with some other big, pink, ladies, with just a few bits of gauze for clothing). I do have some health issues that will be eased if I lose some weight though, including joint pain and some of my sleep difficulties, and maybe a few other things. It'll also put me in a lower risk group for diabetes and blood pressure problems. (Not that I've had a problem with diabetes or blood pressure, but it's a good think to lower your risk.)

My jeans don't fit any more. Well, they sort of do. I can still wear them for the time being, but they're getting pretty roomy. The same is true of my other clothes. Tops, skirts, you name it, I'm shrinking out of it. This is a good thing. It's going very slowly, which is how I want it to go (slow weight loss is more likely to be maintained, and it's less of a shock on the system).

I don't ever expect to be slim. I've never been, not in my entire life. There was a time when I was in my late teens when I was not particularly fat, but I wasn't slim. I was very curvy, though, with a classic hourglass figure. Not at all fashionable, but men seemed to like it. Anyway, I don't ever expect to be slim, because it's just not me, and I'm in my forties now, so weighing what I did when I was eighteen isn't too likely. I'm just shooting for comfortable and reasonably healthy. If that means I'm still Rubenesque, that's okay with me.

For now, I'm just happy to be making progress, and I guess I'll stop when I get there.

Okay, I generally don't write much about celebrity gossip here. I do read it (lurid fascination with the whole gossip culture, I admit it), but I generally don't bring it here to talk about it, mostly because there are a ton of celebrity gossip blogs out there that do it much better than I ever could.

However, lately (as in, the past year or so) I've developed a very strange semi-obsession with Britney Spears. I've quite honestly never really cared about Britney Spears one way or the other and I still don't, depending on how you define "care", but I'm sort of horribly fascinated by her since she became the world's most famous (or infamous) train wreck. I've been trying for months to figure out just what the fascination is, and I think I finally worked it out...

It's that I'm astounded, horrified, and fascinated by how incredibly STUPID she appears to be. I do think she's probably mentally ill, a drug abuser (the judge in her ongoing custody battle certainly felt that was the case), and has lots of, err, issues, but on top of all that, she appears to be genuinely stupid. It just really amazes me that someone that stupid is not only functioning in the world, but has made millions (which should stand as a reminder that the best, the smartest, and the most talented aren't always the ones who succeed, materially).

I keep watching her bizarre antics and episodes of her life because it just mesermizes me. She's stupid, she's not particularly talented, she's a colossal screwup, and yet she just continues on and on and on like some sort of demented Energizer Bunny with bad extensions...

Eventually, of course, the circus will end, or the train wreck will be cleaned up, or something will give and my bizarre fascination with her stupidity will end. When that happens, I will breathe a sigh of relief, but until then, I'm afraid I'm going to probably keep right on staring at her continual displays of stupidity and utter, utter lack of self-awareness, wondering how it's possible to be so stupid and so rich all at the same time.

Note to any Britney fans who happen upon this little rant and feel they need to "set me straight" or bitch me out or whatever. First, read the disclaimer. Then, if you still feel the need to email me, be aware that if your email is stupid enough (and entertaining enough), I'll be happy to post it here in the Moron Mail category. So feel free to email me, okay? I haven't posted any really amusing Moron Mail in ages...

Federal Health Minister Tony Abbott says workers who are unhappy with their employment should just look for a new job.
[...]
Mr Abbott said the best option for aggrieved workers was to find alternative employment.
 
"That is the best protection. Not going off to some judge, or industrial commission, that might order your employer, who you don't like, and he doesn't like you, to keep you in an unhappy partnership forever," he said on the video.
 
Mr Abbott also said the Industrial Relations Commission has had its powers stunted by the legislation.
 
"I accept that certain protections, in inverted commas, are not what they were, I accept that that has largely gone. I accept that," he said.

Despite the fact that I have no coffee tables, I have a thing for big, beautiful "coffee table" books. Well, Andrew and I both do, really. We have a rather pricey Disney one (limited printing, so we grabbed it while it was available), a book of The New Yorker's cartoons (yeah, all of them), a lovely Monty Python one, a few art ones (well, naturally!) and now I have gathered unto myself another: The Beatles Anthology.

Mmmmm. Beatles. Haven't gotten even most of the way through yet, but so far I'm enjoying it. All the pictures and the biographical stuff, very nice. It's a really good collection of information, if you're a Beatles fan (or, even if you're not that keen, you might still enjoy it; it's got lots of pictures!).

The only trouble with coffee table books is that they're too big to easily read in bed at night... Maybe we should look into getting a coffee table. Hmmm.

People frequently think I'm smart. And, for the most part, I am smart, generally speaking. But most of the reason people think I'm smart is because 1) I know how to look things up and 2) I don't broadcast my ignorance far and wide.

It always, always amazes me when people ask stupid questions that could be answered easily by thirty seconds of Googling. I'm not talking about if you're at a party somewhere and a topic comes up and you ask for more information, mind you. I'm talking about going into some forum and asking the most basic of questions, stuff that should be incredibly easy to just find out on your own. Instead of finding it out on their own, though, some people seem to prefer annoying others and making themselves look stupid in the process. I don't do that. I do ask questions, but I don't ask blazingly stupid questions that I could answer for myself with the minimum of effort, thus eliminating my own ignorance and sparing other people from having to deal with it.

So that's my rant for the day. Take it for what it's worth. Or not at all. I just wanted to spout off. Because while I do generally refrain from showing my ignorance in public (and, yeah, there's a LOT of stuff in the world I know nothing about!), I'm not above showing my irritation...

I had no idea a ukulele could sound like this. Wow!

Read on for insight into why men misinterpret what we say — and how you can make yourself heard.

VERY entertaining!!!

A unique and quite lovely take on Pachelbel's Greatest Hit:

Oh, and I've posted it before, but in case you missed it, the hilarious Pachelbel Rant:

I can't work out how to embed this, but if you're a cat person, you'll LOVE this video...

Nigeria continues to develop and export the world’s most innovative Internet scams. In one bizarre variation that seems to have ramped up in recent months, the scammers are taking a page from Facebook and leveraging the power of social connections.
 
Here’s how it works: The scammer somehow breaks into a victim’s Web-based e-mail account. He then impersonates the victim and sends an emergency plea for help to everyone in the account’s address book, asking them to wire money to Nigeria. The e-mail includes some variation on a story about getting mugged or losing a wallet while on a trip to Nigeria.

It's not often that you see the word "scientist" (let alone "rocket scientist" or "neuroscientist") anywhere near the name "Paris Hilton", but apparently, neuroscientists have found that a cardboard cutout of the ubiquitous Hilton Hotel heiress has a painkilling effect on mice.

FreeRice is a site where you can donate rice to help end world hunger by playing a vocabulary game. To quote the site:

When you play the game, advertisements appear on the bottom of your screen. The money generated by these advertisements is then used to buy the rice. So by playing, you generate the money that pays for the rice donated to hungry people.

Anyway, give it a go, and be warned, you might find it somewhat addictive.