Ten things in Twenty-Ten

Resolutions are for suckers. Let's all get that straight, resolutions are the drunken promises you make to stop smoking, run a marathon or in the immortal words of my friend a few years ago, I'm going to get a tattoo of a moose head butting another moose over who is a better dancer. I've yet to see such emotion captured in a tattoo but I live in hope.

So anti-resolutions we are. Most decidedly. But I do love a plan, oh yes, plan city here in Miss kitty land. Perhaps a leetle problematically, there may be cold-sweats, awake at 3 am, massive heart palpitations if there is no plan. I don't do well free forming, I am geeky, specific and quite like clean feet. ( Actually I've noticed something about myself lately, if i get a text that uses abbreviations, C U L8er, etc, I feel the need to wash my hands. Travesty of language.)

So this is in the theme of plans ( not resolutions ) and lists, which are a really marvelous way to disguise plans, plus you get to check things off. 

Ten things in Twenty-Ten, a plannish List by Miss Kitty that freely welcomes failure and disgrace.

1- Dance. Oh, yeah. I love dancing. It makes me feel spesh. So I think 20-10 is the year of dancing. 3 different kinds by the end. Yes, sir.

2- Get through master's confirmation. Without the nervous breakdown I am imagining for my pretty little self.

3- Get my License. I am tragically old and unable to drive. I am very scared of cars and am convinced that I will end up in a fiery spectacle on the news one day.

4- Eat like a healthy ninja. I figure ninjas must have fairly good diets with all the sneaking and killing they do, so I'm on board.

5- Read some PG Wodehouse. Small goals are highly important too.

6- Floss my freaking teeth. Small box of floss, $3.50. Root canal, $1700.00. Kay?

7- Write book for the children. Grown-up books suck. I'd rather write stories for little people with dragons and ninjas and chocolate cake for tea.

8- Love my self. I'm just so lovely and darned good looking. Must become more self-absorbed.

9- More with the cooking. Must expand cooking repertoire. First on the list, pizza's grilled on the bbq, all smoky and delicious. 

10- Be calm, be mindful, be here. I need to practice this. I want to spend the year living more and worrying less. Breathing and appreciating these moments for what they are. (And if anyone has figured out how to do that yet, can you let me know? Or the Dali Llamas phone number?)

Sounds delightful to me. I've already got a list for 2011 too, which is full of excitement. Yippee.

Oh and I forgot...

(11- Keep more lists!)

No-Whenber?

from here

Hello world, I know its November and all that but really a whole week of 30+ and nights not getting below a 17? What is that about? Are you on Al Gore's side, is that it? Are you just trying to put Andrew Bolt in his place ( Actually I'm all for that, vapid little human) 

I'm just not ready for summer. Although my Moo-Ma is coming to visit today to get me a skirt sewing lesson and I just bought a pair of Luvees ( On Lili's recom) which are heaven in pink lacey frothiness. And I'm having large lusting for these sandals that tick both cuteness and most comfortable shoes ever for work and walking around.

But still, I'm a winter gal. How I love the coats and the boots and heater and the snuggling under the doona. Heaven.

P.S- That photo at the top is by my beautiful Mother. Don't tell her but she and her husb are having a 120th birthday party next year and my pressie to them is going to be two weeks gallery space for a photographic exhibition. It may be the best present ever and I may never be able to give them anything else, ever. Alas.

Grumpy and I

Got my grumpy face on today.

So has poor Miss Ptolemy, kitty divine. It's Spring, you see, and she has lost all her Winter fur but it's not quite warm enough for kitty skinny dipping.

I really should post pictures here of her furry divinity but she's so black I can never seem to catch her in a good light.

Project for another time.

I'm just on the come-down from wedding number three. Three family weddings in as many months. Ouch my poor self.

Normal weddings ( read, other people that are not in any way related to my boy or myself ) are delightful. There's dressing up, drinking, eating and awkward small talk, lovely.

Family weddings, sheesh. That champagne isn't celebratory, its medicinal!

I shouldn't whinge, they've all been lovely and touching but you know, everything in moderation. So much planning and stressing and money. Hand me that medicine again, barkeep.

Yesterday was my older step-sister, who is such a doll and I love her husband so much, he's even more of a doll. I got sucker punched by my step-dad Murray getting all sooky walking his girl down the aisle, so sweet from the old bushranger.

But now I'm sitting with my feet up ( new heels ) and keep napping ( the dangers of the infinite glass of champagne ) and wishing somewhere in the madness there was a little time for me to have some me-fun too, please?

'Cos I work in retail and it's the last week of October, which means only two months until Santa comes a knockin'. And I have large chunks of thesis that refuse to write themselves. And a strange pain in my left ear I'm trying not to think about. 

Damn, damn, damn, what a year it has been and no slow in sight!

I'm thinking of starting a club, a slow-down-me club. Each month someone picks an activity they really want to do but never seem to get time. And we do it in a group 'cos that will make us feel less guilty about spending all that time on ourselves.

I wanna have a Famous Five picnic in the Botanical Gardens. We can have cherry cake and lashings of Ginger Beer. And then we can lie on the picnic rugs and look up at the sky and stop.

That'd wash the grumpy away.

Context

Hello again, yes, its me, the one who owns/writes/runs this blog. 

And where have I been?

Ah, nowhere?

Seriously, I have spent years scoffing at those older type peeps who always say "How fast is this year going? Oh, you just wait until you're older and then...Wooh, time really flies"

Or some such to that effect. But OMG where does time go? 

I blinked sometime in August and now its mid September and I HAVE NOTHING TO SHOW FOR THE LAST MONTH. Not even new shoes.

It has been weddings a go-go here at land of Misskit. My boyf's brother just got married 2/mebbe 3 weeks ago and in a week his sister is getting married.

No, dearest ( She says through gritted teeth) I love spending every waking moment with you family, talking about your family, planning wedding things, worrying if the dress I bought 2 months ago will fit. ( It does, its just a little tight if I try to breathe)

But wedding number 2 is almost over. I'm doing the brides make-up and the bridesmaids and the mother-o-the-brides, probably too! Which is fun cos its like painting and colouring, only more tense! I'm not really a make-up genius, I don't wear too much nowadays but its all a matter of comparison. And I'm cooking masses of cupcakes for the day after wedding brunch! And then I'm going to hop in the bath with a gin, or a bath of gin, its unclear.

I'm trying to plan life post-Weddings. There may be less high heels but hopefully more Picnics, bbq's, playing with my nephew, caramel, finding that perfect pair of summer shoes that are both comfortable to walk all day in yet stylish and adorable.

I also have hopes for belly dancing classes, actual free-time, publishing my article on Twilight, wearing my new maxi-dress ( its so pretty and swirly and bright, I'll post a pic soon) and growing my hair all long and romantic-like.

And salsa-dancing classes.

Really, any classes that require new shoes, I'm pretty much interested in.

 

Under strict orders

Natalie from Definatlie has given us strict orders to keep on with this loving thyself theme. And seeing as my week of self-esteem posts died a sudden and terrible death ( illness and the week from hell) I'm snapping too Cap'n and listing away!

What I love about myself:

I love my strength of character. Even when I'm misery and convinced everything is awful and always will be, there is a tiny spark that knows I'll get through this because I always do.

I love my compassion, while sometimes it makes me hide away from the cruelty of the world, it's the constant drive in me to be a better person.

I love my hands, they are graceful and white and expressive.

I love my foolishness. I have the gift of play, I can tease and giggle and get up to mischief without being self-conscious ( sometimes)

I love my mind, it is fast and flexible and meaty. It will take me somewhere beyond the everyday if I just trust my instincts.

I love my cocoon that I have built around my beloved and me. It is a safe, warm space of love and trust. I love that I know how fragile it can be and how every day I am thankful for it.

I love my smile, it is wide and genuine. It is offered freely and often to strangers, friends and even people who MAY not deserve it.

I love my sheer joy and semi-inability at baking. It brings me such pleasure and I'm really not that good at it.

I love that I can dance. Like really dance. Like I'm the annoying person at beginners dance class who gets it in five seconds and becomes the teachers pet. But I love how it makes me feel and I love that at least I am instinctively fabulous at something.

I really like my butt!

And my kissable lips and grey eyes and red hair and pale, vampire like skin!

Ooo, I think deep down I might really like me.

I'm Bitchin'

Seriously why is this post so freaking hard? I'm playing along with Sally from GeorgieLove and making a week of posts about the marvelousness of me!

So this is day 3.... and this is post 1.... it's going well.

What makes it so hard to give yourself props? Yet when I go to write something about myself I have to temper it, i.e.- I'm pretty awesome, I'm kinda cool, I sorta rock! Why is it so hard to write the bald statements? I am awesome, I am cool, I definitely rock. I'm bitchin! 

Con-un-drum.

Who actually likes themselves? In a 'I don't spend my precious and finite time beating myself up internally every single day for not being smart enough, pretty enough, cool enough, enough enough' kind of way. Oh, none of us? Well, then this must be normal.

Normal is for losers.

I don't want to be normal if that means having to feel crap about myself any longer. Dammit.

I want normal to be no anxiety about what I'm wearing, what size I am, if I'm funny and witty in conversation. I want to stop thinking about how much better life could be if only I was thinner, spoke french, was outgoing and had Megan Fox-like charms.*

I want to stop and breathe and appreciate what I have in my life instead of chasing my tail wanting something, anything! 

So today I'm starting an adventure! Wanna come? I'll bring cookies

 

I'm gonna find me a beautiful pea green ( sea green?) boat and set off to find my self-esteem. 

Here's what I'm taking:

Me- 28, red of hair, size 16-18 of build, shy of temperament, intellectual of brain, kind of nature, loving of mischief, deep streak of sarcasm, good taste in shoes, ability to love loyally, excellent baking skills, no ability to stop eating the chocolate and a smile as wide as the sea.

Lots of honey and a little bit of money.

No map or compass.

Why? Cos I'm bitchin'. 

*Disclaimer- While Miss Fox is possibly one of the finest looking women alive I will admit to being quite concerned that she may not notice if she walked into a wall. But she is awesome and power to you, sister.

Mumsy's coming to town

Ah, the Mothership is arriving tomorrow! Its silly to be excited when I saw her a couple of months ago but really if a late twenties gal can't be excited about her Mumsy then there is something wrong with the world. 

See for my last two years of High School it was just Mumsy and me. My beloved Papa had just died and my big brother moved to Melbourne, so it was just us. We spent the first 6 months after Dad died sitting on the couch watching old episodes of Star Trek and holding hands. 

Now I live three hours away from her and shamefully don't visit enough ( cos I'm naughty) But also she got married again and got a life! Retired from work and now spends all her time traveling with her husband the bushranger! Shocking! Mothers with lives! 

She's coming down tomorrow to play for a couple of days. OOoooo, lovely. Also, she likes to buy me things. 

Mothers rock, its true.