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Year View| Summary| Highlights| July 2006 (Month View)

01.07.2006Saturday 1 July – Unwelcome Gardeners

I slept in until nearly midday, awaking to find that someone—presumably the yard maintenance people—had pulled out half my garden. I had to go to the real estate to drop in our renewed lease, so complained about the lack of concern for my poor plants.
Bronwen and I walked to K-Mart, where I did some clothes shopping.
She and I enthusiastically devoured a lovely chip and salad dinner, followed by piping hot apple pie and ice cream. Then, our house was inundated with another of the seemingly endless flow of Tasmanians.
Comment by B. – Monday 3 July 2006, 3:24 PM
  She and I, sounded so peculiar it caused me to become disorientated and find myself where I wasn’t. So in response to that question that isn’t here. Second Tense is talking to someone in particular, you, your, yours. It is considered a very aggressive form of expression, except for one on one conversation where it tempered by the fact of its practicality.
Comment by io – Monday 3 July 2006, 6:26 PM
  Hi Bronwen. :D Sunday Live is coming up in August!
Comment by Ned – Monday 3 July 2006, 9:48 PM
  I originally wrote for practicality, then fun, and now it’s become something of a chore—I “have” to have an entry for every day, so most of the time it’s rather forced. However, I do enjoy writing, and when I’m in the mood, and have the time, I like to think I write well—and have a bit of fun. That’s why I often write somewhat strangely—it’s boring writing everything the same, every time. “Bronwen and I” had already been used today, “She and I” hadn’t been. Had I been less rushed, I might have written, “They, the girl and the boy, ravished the chips—it was as if they hadn’t eaten since lunchtime”. Speaking of second person, I wrote an entry in second tense just a few weeks ago, 17 June.
Comment by Mum – Thursday 6 July 2006, 7:19 PM
  Geez. "He and I" go back 25 years, more or less. I am "Mum", guess I am another "She". Get over it. I also like to have fun with words. "Fun". Good old fashioned pursuit. You mob are lucky that "He" has time to even write about "She and I" or anyone. Obviously you take the time to read what is written. Why hassle about the little things. Get a life.
   Hi, "She". Hope all is well with you, beautiful lady.
   Older "She" xxxx
Comment by alfonzo banana – Thursday 6 July 2006, 11:31 PM
  Alice sighed wearily. "I think you might do something better with the time" she said, "than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers".
Comment by Ned – Friday 7 July 2006, 7:56 AM
  “The adventures first… explanations take such a dreadful time”

02.07.2006Sunday 2 July – Audio & Gardening

There’s something of an audiophile in me. I’ve just spent the past few hours—while I wasn’t showering, doing some laundry, or eating breakfast—playing around with my soundcard. I’m using a SoundBlaster Live! running kX Drivers, which transform an otherwise fairly ordinary soundcard into an impressive audio solution. I’m running audio and video from my computer into the lounge room so I can play music and movies there, but with a normal soundcard setup, it’s impossible to separate various audio sources. I couldn’t play a movie in the lounge room while listening to music here—and there was no way to stop all the annoying little noises various things make, from coming through. An email arriving would make a noise halfway through a movie, for example.
  The SoundBlaster cards themselves have quite an impressive audio processor, but the drivers they ship with essentially disable most of its capabilities. But with the kX drivers, I’m able to leverage the professional audio processor they’ve used at the heart of the SoundBlaster Live! series of soundcards, giving me full ASIO support, several other inputs and outputs, and the ability to load my own microcode into the processor. I currently have one physical output going to my headphones and computer speakers, and a separate line going to the TV and speakers in the living room, through a six-channel mixer. This allows me to send an audio source to the lounge room without affecting what I’m hearing here at my computer, and vice versa. I’ve even split off the low frequency channel from surround encoded DVD’s, and am amplifying it separately and mixing it back in, to more accurately match the performance of the speakers in the lounge room. I’ve then set up my music-, DVD- and movie-playing programs so that they by default output sound on a different channel to the rest of Windows sound, allowing me to easily mix and match audio input and outputs.
  That’s all been setup for a while. Today I’ve been playing around with amplifier simulations—they provide a whole new realm of listening sensations to my existing music. A Steve Vai instrumental sounds drastically different, and impressively realistic, played through a simulated vintage tube amp, or a single bridge pickup heavy metal amp.
Ned garden. Ned dig. Ned remove remains of mess evil garden men make when they pull half garden out. Ned bus to town. Ned buy seeds. Ned buy fertiliser. Ned buy coir peat block. Ned expand coir peat block. Ned fertilise. Ned sow. Ned water. Ned have purple feet from berries.
Comment by Mum – Thursday 6 July 2006, 7:28 PM
  Ned a good fella with a hoe, trowel and righteous angst

03.07.2006Monday 3 July – Thick Shakes & Free Chocolate

The day began with a coffee thick-shake. Well, technically, it began with an alarm, followed by a shower, then a half hour huddle in bed wishing it wasn’t cold, and a rushed bus trip to work—and the thick-shake saviours. Then followed a sleepy day of training, learning, fighting through the sleepiness, and free chocolate—apparently because it’s Monday.

04.07.2006Tuesday 4 July – Sandwiches & Pizza

Nothing particularly exciting to report for today—I awoke when my alarm went off, arrived at work on time, underwent more training, and left on time. Once home again, I watered the garden, did some laundry, bought and ate pizza, and went to bed. Today was free sandwich day at work, it would seem.
I listened in on Shelley’s phone for most of the day, trying to learn the system at work.
Comment by martin – Thursday 6 July 2006, 5:31 PM
  If you don't mind me asking Ned, what's your job? The readers of this blog need details to fuel their interest.
Comment by Ned – Friday 7 July 2006, 7:52 AM
  It’s perhaps overly cautious, but as I do deal with private and confidential information at work, I’m keeping all work-related entries that specifically mention names, places, products, events, and so forth, in private entries. I don’t usually mind if my friends know, but I like to keep some separation between myself and the internet at large. The last thing I want is to be accused of inappropriately divulging private information, and I wouldn’t put it past people at work to read this.

05.07.2006Wednesday 5 July – Amanda’s

Training, training, training. This is all I’ll be doing for some time.
I caught a train out to Ferny Grove, and was driven from there to Amanda’s, where I stayed the night, along with two friends of hers, over from New Zealand.

06.07.2006Thursday 6 July – Jalyn

I got a lift to the train station with Amanda’s Kiwi friends, and caught a train to work, where I underwent further training.
Jalyn dropped around to pick up the keys.

07.07.2006Friday 7 July – Dead Man’s Chest

I did my first jobs—setting up statistics accounts. It’s not a very exciting thing to do, but at least I can see how it’s possible to learn now. Before it seemed insurmountable—there were too many new things, and it seemed the only way to learn was to try, something I couldn’t do without knowing more first.
I caught a bus to Bronwen’s parent’s place, via South Bank cinemas where I bought tickets to “Dead Man’s Chest”. We had a nice pizza dinner, and got a lift back to our place, from where we walked to South Bank and saw “Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man’s Chest”. I’d been a bit worried that it would be really bad, as sequels often are, but I needn’t have worried—it was fantastic.

08.07.2006Saturday 8 July – AFL

Sleepy. Learning is tiring. Looked at a house with Bronwen, her parent’s, and her grandfather. Bought torch headband thing in city. Did some shopping. Went to AFL at Gabba with Clint, Clus and Allen. Melbourne won.

09.07.2006Sunday 9 July – Mount Barney

I’m lost. I’m bleeding. It’s dark. I’ve been walking for over twelve hours. There’s an impenetrable wall of prickly plants every way I look. I’ve only my small torch to see where I’m going. This wasn’t quite where I’d intended to find myself around ten o’clock Sunday night.
  Walking down the creek seemed a good idea at the time. I’d been up and down “Peasants” (or South Ridge) with Clint before, so taking a new way down made sense. I knew it would probably get dark before I got out, but presumably, once I was out of the steep country, it’d be a walk in the park. Besides, this was the very reason I bought my new torch, and I wanted to try it out. I quite enjoyed it to begin with—the country was just the same as that which I was used to in North Queensland, and there certainly wasn’t any exposure—I was walking down a creek bed after all. Sliding down the steep cliffs facing the creek to get around waterfalls was about as steep as it got, and it was nice and cool and all was going well, until it began to get dark.
  A rainforest creek bed is comprised almost entirely of rocks covered in places with slippery fallen logs and palm fronds—all the soil having long ago washed away—and is usually on a rather steep slope. This makes it rather difficult to traverse, as everything is slippery and it’s all too easy to fall, and if I do fall, it will probably be a reasonable distance and not soft—my head will land on a rock a metre below me. This isn’t normally a big problem, although it makes the going a lot slower—but once it begins to get dark, depth perception goes to sleep and it’s nearly impossible to tell if something is slippery, solid, or if there’s a lethal gap just under a palm frond. With this in mind, as dusk begins to gather, I begin hurrying—walking along the small flats beside the creek bed, avoiding the slippery wet rocks whenever possible. As it gets darker and darker, it becomes more and more difficult, and the top of the right ridge looks more and more promising—it looks much brighter and clearer up there.
  Climbing up out of the creek is the obvious way to avoid the slow rocky peril I’ve got myself stuck in, and hopefully will speed up my progress. The climb is very steep—the bank is a wall of near vertical loose dirt with just enough trees and roots to allow me to pull myself up—none of which snapped, plunging me to my death on the rocks below. The top, which had looked so clear from below, is as treed as anywhere else, but at least it isn’t rocky.
  The going is much faster now I’ve left the creek, but I’m not sure where I’m going. Clint has his GPS, but it’s still impossible to say exactly where I am—to an accuracy of seven metres—or where I should be going. I don’t want to find myself on anything too steep, so I’m trying to stick to what I hope is the centre of the ridge, but it’s very hard to tell in the dark. I follow what looks like it could almost be an old road—there’s a small band where the trees are slightly thinner, and it’s scrubbier and eroded. Unfortunately, it’s also harder walking, with hidden holes I fall in and roots to trip me up—and of course, lots of nasty lantana, mixed with wait-a-while and raspberries. After a while, the erosion becomes more obvious and I’m confident it is an old road. Sadly, the undergrowth also becomes more obvious, and I’m forced to revert to crawling and smashing my way through. It gets thicker and thicker, until it’s all but impenetrable. After I stumble across a suitably large leg-breaking hole, I decide I need to get out of this cursed undergrowth that grabs my pack as I’m crawling through it, and trips me up. There’s only one way out—down into the creek.
  I smash my way back down into the creek. It’s not so steep now, but in the dark it’s hard to pick holes from rocks—especially as they are all covered in palm fronds. Fortunately, I don’t twist an ankle or crack my skull on any rocks, and after only a short walk down the creek, I find myself on a proper slashed forest track. My legs, which up until now haven’t had time to complain, now begin complaining volubly, and the cold, which hadn’t been game to disturb me before, now creeps into my bones. I shiver my way through two creek crossings—both of which, by some miracle, are crossable without taking my shoes off—and finally find myself back at Clint’s car, which is not only still there, but hasn’t even been broken into.
  It all began early in the morning—far too early, given my recent tiredness. I set the alarm for five o’clock, but it’s half past by the time I pull myself out of bed. I find that it’s rather cold too. I gobble a quick breakfast, and pack my walking gear. Clint turns up just after six, and we drive to Mount Barney, where it is icy cold.
  There are cars parked everywhere—obviously a lot of people are out walking. I hoist my pack, and head off—happy to be out of the city, in the bush, and particularly happy to find that the creek crossing is doable without taking my shoes off or getting them wet. Barefoot on the frosty ice-encrusted grass isn’t an appealing concept. I spend a few hours climbing up a steep track, rather uneventfully apart from when I am hit by a Clint-dislodged rock. I climb across a narrow ledge, with three hundred metre drops on either side, and walk past where Bronwen and I camped last time. Last time I tried going up South East Ridge, I turned back shortly after where we camped. This time, I don’t. It turns out that I had been over the worst last time, and was probably only half an hour from the summit, but didn’t know it. I don’t enjoy the scrambling, climbing and exposed sections, but I don’t die, so all is good.
  I lunch just before the summit, snacking on “Light and Tangy” potato chips—in a strangely swollen bag, perhaps by the increase in altitude—and “In a Biskit” crispy potato munchies things. I had been followed up by a group of four or five men, who had overtaken me while I was having a break just before the worst section, and I meet another man on his way down while I am eating. He has climbed up the next ridge—Logan’s ridge—which is apparently harder than this one. I’ve already been to the summit before, as have Clint and Bronwen, so I don’t spend much time there, and begin my descent down the other side immediately.
Solo on the way home
It must have looked a little odd to the bloke in the supermarket. I hobble in, half-frozen, shivering and covered in blood, and buy a large, cold, bottle of “Solo”—but that “Solo” is the best I’ve ever had.

10.07.2006Monday 10 July – Aching Legs

I did some real work, replying to stats jobs.
My legs are wrecked. I can barely walk downstairs. Going up is fine. Despite this, I walk to the shops with Bronwen. What a hero.

11.07.2006Tuesday 11 July – Pirate Day

It’s pirate day at work. If you knew the people I work with, you’d know how scary this is. It’s still very hard to walk too.

12.07.2006Wednesday 12 July – Pizza

It’s a normal day at work. Bronwen and I had pizza for dinner. What a life.
I listened in and “drove” the interface with Christian.

13.07.2006Thursday 13 July – Cold Showers & Crazy Music

The shower was cold. This isn’t what I want first thing in the morning. I’m slowly getting used to the daily grind—at least I’m not so tired when I get up now. Unfortunately, as soon as I’m used to it, I’ll begin shiftwork and it’ll be all messed up again, but I suppose that’s why they pay higher for shiftwork.
Trevor taught the other two new blokes and myself about Managed Exchange today, and we logged into the phone system for the first time.
I’m listening to “E Nomine”’s “Der Exorzist” from their “Finsternis” album. This music would be really interesting on a huge sound system in some outdoor setting under the trees at night. It’s got a very big electronic orchestral sound, combined with a deep bass beat, and catchy rhythms.

14.07.2006Friday 14 July – Street-Lamped for a Lack of Creativity

Work really doesn’t give me much to write about. I attended it. I had a milkshake for breakfast. I had a salad roll for lunch. My afternoon milk wasn’t curdled, as it was yesterday. I scored poorly in a quiz about organisational structures and escalation, and I was paid in advance for the rest of the month.
I feel a literary urge, struggling to make itself known, pressing—pushing and fighting—behind my temples. Sadly, my newfound humdrum workaholic existence doesn’t allow for creativity.
  Clint takes offence to my use of the word “treed”—does it mean “vegetated”, he wants to know? I look it up, and find that animals are treed by hunters. The conversation shifts suddenly to the Valley, and its native inhabitants. Can you be street-lamped? Imagine the moths.

15.07.2006Saturday 15 July – Breaches, Real Estates, House Hunting & Hard Candy

I slept in, or more accurately, I tried to sleep in. I did manage to stay in bed until ten o’clock or so, which was nice even if I was awake. After I got up, Bronwen and I lodged a “Notice to Remedy Breach” form at the real estate, as we have had no power in the kitchen, lounge room or bathroom since Sunday night and the real estate was informed Monday morning. We currently have a large extension lead coiled up in the kitchen to run the fridges, and have to disconnect them when Marjorie wants to watch the Tour de France. I suspect it’s actually illegal, but I’d rather not get us kicked out by having the place declared unfit to live in.
  After our trip to the real estate, Bronwen and I rode out and had a look at a house. It was a strange house—a beautiful, reasonable sized Queenslander, full of original brass fittings and funny antique things like a built-in sitting in the bedroom—but only one bedroom. There was a lot of interest too, with around thirty people turning up for the inspection. On the way home, we stopped for a “Thai Curry” pie at Stone’s Corner, and it began to rain.
Now I’m back home, wondering why I can’t run “rar” on my web server anymore, which is causing my backups to fail.
Watched “Hard Candy” with Maz. Worst movie ever. Not just bad, not just no True Lies, no stars—actively bad, negative five out of five stars, a whole true lie the wrong side of none. It wasn’t just a waste of time—I feel worse now that I’ve seen it. In other words, it was not a good movie. Brainwashing needed. And it should be noted, I’ve seen some pretty bad movies… including one where a lot of pumpkins chased a lot of people. That was the entire plot.
Comment by Someone – Thursday 20 July 2006, 11:49 AM
  Way to go Ned.

16.07.2006Sunday 16 July – Nachos & SoloTitle

Lunch with Kieran and Maz, at a fancy place, now that we are all employed. Nachos. Expensive but nice. Terribly rich cake. Kieran’s place after, for a chat.
Couldn’t contact Bronwen due to her phone having gone flat. Went grocery shopping.
Had a nice pasta dinner at a place in Park Road with Bronwen, and rushed to the Dendy and saw the second in my series of five different movies at five different cinemas in five days, “Solo”—quite a good movie. Nicely Aussie. Somewhat violent and not quite as funny as I was expecting, but recommended. Very different from last night’s movie.

17.07.2006Monday 17 July – The King and the Clown

I worked.
I caught a train from work to South Bank, bought a super shake from Cold Rock, and watched the third in my series of five movies, “The King and the Clown”—a Korean tragedy. I don’t really like tragedies, but it was interesting, and certainly different. The male and “female” leads both being male took some getting used to too. Quite a contrast to the previous two night’s movies.

18.07.2006Tuesday 18 July – Golmaal

I went on the phones solo for the first time. Trevor taught us about application pools and Blackberry devices.
I caught a bus to Garden City, where I met Bronwen. We had dinner at “The Spice of India” (or some similarly named Indian restaurant), and saw the fourth in my series of five movies at five different cinemas in five days—“Golmaal”—at the megaplex there. It was very funny, although the lack of subtitles and my lack of Hindi made it a bit confusing. That a movie in a language I don’t understand can be better than most of the Hollywood movies I’ve seen recently really says something.

19.07.2006Wednesday 19 July – Tristram Shandy: A Cock & Bull Story

I worked as per usual.
Bronwen and I saw the fifth and final movie in my series of five movies in five days, at five different cinemas—“Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story”—at the Palace. I was rather disappointed, as I had been expecting a great British comedy—which it certainly didn’t live up to—but it was an enjoyable, if confusing and patchwork, movie.

20.07.2006Thursday 20 July – Tired

My plan to see five movies in five different cinemas in five days was fun, but, combined with work, it’s made me rather tired. So, a tired day I had—working, and with nothing out of the ordinary to comment on.

21.07.2006Friday 21 July – Working & Eating

I went on the phones for most of the day.
Another normal day, working.
Kieran, Maz and I had dinner at the Pig and Whistle at Indooroopilly, to celebrate Maz and Kieran’s graduation.
Comment by Mum – Thursday 27 July 2006, 11:06 PM
  Congratulations Maz and Kieran. From Neds Mum. Good on you.

22.07.2006Saturday 22 July – Joe’s & Clint

Bronwen and I train to Morningside where we look at a rather unpleasant house before training to Joe’s, via Logan Central shops. Clint drops by around midnight and has a chat.

23.07.2006Sunday 23 July – Woodenbong

For the first time in quite a while, I slept in.
Kieran and Maz dropped by on their way back from the computer markets, and we drove to Clint’s, then to Maz’s, where Kieran left us. Bronwen, Clint, Maz and I continued on to a small town just over the NSW border, where it began to rain. We had planned to go and look at some large rock at some dam somewhere, but it was further than expected, so instead we drove around on dirt roads, ate greasy food at the Woodenbong café, and arrived home rather late.

24.07.2006Monday 24 July – Early City Cats, Milk & 16 Blocks

I missed the train, but fortunately not the City Cat. It’s rather cold early in the morning on a City Cat.
I was WUGMon at the east Brisbane data centre, with Trevor.
I wasn’t sure if I should go see a movie, so I phoned Clint to see if he was interested, and lay down to think about it. Jalyn was playing strange opera. I had semi-asleep nightmares that unpleasant women were singing to me, and then someone knocked on the door. It was Jalyn’s boyfriend, but I thought it might be Clint, which woke me up with just enough time to ride to Clint’s. We drove to Indooroopilly, and saw “16 Blocks”, which wasn’t too bad.
Bronwen and I walked to the supermarket to buy milk, ordinary family milk.

25.07.2006Tuesday 25 July – Misty

Riding through the mist-enshrouded city on the cat in my sleepy daze was quite a pleasant way to start my working day, although sleeping in would have been even nicer. I’ve been getting up at a quarter past five, but that barely gives me enough time to get ready, and is unpleasantly early.
I worked as East Brisbane WUGMon with Trevor again.
Bronwen and I had pizza for dinner, as it’s $4.95 pizza night. We then watched some rather unusual TV on Briz31, the local community channel here. Ironically, their very low budget weirdness was better than anything on the mainstream commercial networks. Clint arrived halfway through, and we chatted about possible walking locations on the weekend.

26.07.2006Wednesday 26 July – Work & Sleep

I got up early, went to work, and so on and so forth. I had a bit of a semi-delirious doze when I got home, and will now hopefully be able to work tomorrow.

27.07.2006Thursday 27 July – Misty & The Spiegel Tent

Despite having cleverly showered last night, thus reducing my mean-time-from-bed-to-the-city-cat by half, I still had to run for the cat. It was very misty, so misty I couldn’t see the city from the city cat.
I got in trouble for eating in the data centre, but other than that, a normal day learning WUG at East Brisbane, with Ryan Forrester and Jason Cuneo.
Bronwen and I walked to the Spiegel Tent, where we were refused entry due to Bronwen having no ID. Two quick bus trips later, we were inside and had an enjoyable night watching “My Ninja Lover” with Ultra High Gecko.
Comment by Mum – Thursday 27 July 2006, 11:17 PM
  Super misty en route to my job at Den at 5.30am. Super nice I reckon. Make a cuppa and sit wrapped in a shawl out the back of the pub and watch the mists evaporate off the Mungumby mountains from Helenvale. Beautiful. This is a paradise. Fortunate that most people dont know about it. Don't tell anybody, eh.
Comment by Clint's Mum – Friday 28 July 2006, 5:44 PM
  Hello Ned's Mum - we were up that way recently and had lunch at the "Den" and yes you are fortunate to live in paradise. We are looking at mudbrick cottage at Rossville - do you know of it?
Comment by Ned – Saturday 29 July 2006, 11:42 AM
  I’m not sure of the exact place you’re talking about, but we’ve lived in Rossville for a good few years now, so I’m guessing I’d know the place. It strikes me as funny that you’re interested in the same area—small world I guess.
Comment by sef – Saturday 29 July 2006, 4:49 PM
  Dear maternal parental unit,
  Please stop stalking my friends and the mothers of my friends.
  Kind regards, firstborn.
Comment by Maz – Saturday 29 July 2006, 5:06 PM
  Haha. My mum doesn't read my site. That might be something to do with it lacking interesting content. Either way it works out for me.
Comment by Mum – Monday 31 July 2006, 7:21 PM
  Dear Clint, I suspect that the "mudbrick" which was advertised etc. is in fact "Harry Ivory"s" old place, almost certain. If you want to know, ask Ned. His Dad lived there for a while5-4 )Please excuse explainables, they are CAT.....who is addicted to keyboard). Anyway, the old Harry Ivory mudbrick has been superly updated and added to and is apparently beautiful. I have not seen it, so cannot say. It is a really nice part of Rossville. All parts of Rossville are nice. Some more so than others. But then again, I am totally biased.
   Ned, Harry's old place was advertised recently, so am almost sure this is "the mudbrick" as there are not all that many "mudbrick" mob around. Anyway, hope so that this is useful.
   Regards, Kristine
Comment by Mum – Monday 31 July 2006, 7:54 PM
  Who is "sef" and what is he/she on about? I am "maternal parental unit"??? And I am stalking friends and mothers of friends??? HOly mackeral. And I am a "unit"? I think this sef is a unit. I dont have the faintest clue what he/she is talking about. And I really object to being called a "maternal parental unit" as if I am some th ing that is just slotted in and all that shit. There is no neat and tidy "unit" as regards "maternal". It is a sort of crazy go by the seat of your pants, and by the seat of your intuition. The seat of your intuition is really the go. How dare you call me a "unit", you total pill. .....Mother.
Comment by Mum – Monday 31 July 2006, 7:59 PM
  Oh sorry. Just realised that this is Clint's Mum. I am sure that this is the place I described above. It is a really nice part of Rossville. Get Clint to get you onto Ned, if yo are interested. The original mudbrick place has been much updated apparently. (I have not seen it as I have moved into Cooktown now), but apparently it is really beautiful. Best regards. (And next time, come and see me maybe??) Regards, Kristine.
Comment by Ned – Monday 31 July 2006, 8:42 PM
  “sef” is Clint. He is very weird and should probably be avoided, unless you are into anthropology, psychology, or similar pursuits. His “maternal parental unit” is his Mother. He talks like that because he is very weird, and because he is a nerdy geek type, who spends most of his time on his computer. Occasionally he goes walking and to the movies.
Comment by Maz – Monday 31 July 2006, 8:56 PM
  Correction, "to BAD, HORRIBLE, WOEFUL movies". I can't believe we sat through that one!
Comment by Mum – Wednesday 2 August 2006, 12:42 AM
  Oh woe, embarrassed.. look at tomorrows entry from me Sef, with apologies. And apologies to Maternal Parental Unit. (Geez, still cannot get my head around that one.) Parental UNITS? We are Units?? Pity we did not meet. Maybe we did. (Mater Pater Unit). I would have been the sweaty harrassed one with basket of wet sheets followed by a sheaf of miserable chickens looking for bread crusts. Or maybe you saw them (chickens) in the bar? More chance of chip crumbs there, faithless followers. Or maybe I was glimpsed with wheelbarrow full of sheets, snowey white, en route to cabins, fending off various wildlife with much profanity?Um, well, truth to be told, the profanity emanated from my self, and not the chickens. Um, er, well....Is wild up woop woop.
Comment by Mum – Wednesday 2 August 2006, 12:44 AM
   Go walking
Comment by Clint's mum – Thursday 3 August 2006, 9:56 PM
  Hello Ned's mum... this maternal unit is none too pleased to be referred to as such. This maternal parental unit could also never be described as neat and tidy - creative maybe, eclectic maybe. Such lofty intellectual descriptions from those at great heights eg Sef are bound to fall asunder as one of my most redeeming qualities is a very long memory! The mudbrick cottage looks wonderful - the real estate agent rang us about it the day after we got home. Paternal parental unit and potentially disinherited son may go up and have a quick look. I am sure we will cross paths one day,
  Cheers, Michele. (potentially disinherited son's mum)
Comment by Clint – Friday 4 August 2006, 2:00 AM
  All those long thirsty afternoons in the back of the car outside the casino...
Comment by Ned – Friday 4 August 2006, 2:07 AM
  What are you whinging about? At least your parents let you have an open window.
Comment by Muml – Sunday 6 August 2006, 9:25 PM
  Dear MPU (Mater Par Unit), there is a great casino in Cairns (dont tell firstburden).
Comment by Mum – Sunday 6 August 2006, 9:49 PM
  Hello Michele, Will be nice for Pater Parental Unit and Firstburden (PotDisinhSon) to come up. Tell them to look out for chickens following wheelbarrow pushed by dishevelled woman in oversize shorts, flash thongs and awry hair in hilarious bun, exuding olde fashioned profanity of the varied "b"'s variety, if they visit the Lions Den Hotel. Twill be I. Maybe. If I live that long after my last sortie at the casino.

28.07.2006Friday 28 July – Pancakes

Bronwen and I walked to the city to check out the price of electric toothbrushes, and ended up having a very rich dinner and dessert at “Pancakes”—set in an old church, and apparently owned by the Church of Scientology, according to Clint. While this resulted in a lovely night, it also meant I didn’t get to bed early—probably not a good thing considering the lack of sleep I’ve been suffering ever since my “Five movies at five different cinemas in five days” problem, and my plans to get up at four o’clock and go on a long day’s walk on Sunday.

29.07.2006Saturday 29 July – My Super Ex-Girlfriend

I am very tired. I had planned to sleep in today, but it didn’t turn out that way. I got up early, and had just gone back to bed when Clint phoned, looking for people to breakfast with. Bronwen, Clint and I ended up eating cake at Indooroopilly for breakfast, before Bronwen headed to work, and Clint and I to the city, to look for fleeces.
Clint and I wandered around the city, looking for fleeces, map-grid-squares, compasses, and assorted other cool items at adventure stores.
Clint, Maz and I watched “My Super Ex-Girlfriend” at Indooroopilly, which despite being a “chick’s flick” and us being greatly outnumbered by women, was quite entertaining, and quite amusing.
I’m off to bed, having packed for my walk tomorrow. I have to be up in four hours.
Comment by Mum – Wednesday 2 August 2006, 12:03 AM
  Well, I take umbrage at your choice of "journal entries" headlines, which in this case was "My super ex-girlfriend" which in my ignorance meant ex Bronwen, and I went into frenzy mode. What an idiot, what on earth has he done to necessitate the Beautiful Bronwen into leaving him, the total idiot, I will have a piece of him, just wait until I get a hold of him, the total idiot and many asterisks inserted into every second word.
   I rest relaxed. Now.
   I am having a lie down. How on earth She puts up with him is beyond me, but puts up with him She does. What a woman. And what a bloody pill. (he, being the bloody pill, of course.) Prawn, drongo, moron, etc.
Comment by Mum – Wednesday 2 August 2006, 12:21 AM
  dear sef, you ratbag. I now understand that it was your maternal parental unit you were referring to. With all due reverence of course. (Yes?) All those broken sleeps, all those nights wondering where Boy Wonder was, and Doing What. SuperMa! I thought you were some crazy who was gate crashing Neds site and doing a stupid thing. Hence my strong words. Now I know that you are some crazy who was crashing Neds site and doing some stupid thing. Heh heh. Hope so that Parental Unit enjoyed their stay up north. Next time give them my address, okay. xx Mum
Comment by Clint – Wednesday 2 August 2006, 9:27 PM
  Sorry for the confusion in the first place. 'sef' is my Internet nom de guerre, a bit like Ned's 'thei' I suppose although I didn't get to pick mine - one of my infamous ex-housemates had the honour there. I just run with the ball. Thanks for the comment on the house (it is the one on Colleen Ivory), I've forwarded it on to Mum who apparently can't re-find the original page. If you're interested in what the place looks like now, the real estate agent e-mailed some photos of the place to them that I can get them to forward to you. The world seems very small at times.
  Incidentally, my parents actually are units. Beep when they walk backwards and everything.
Comment by Mum – Thursday 3 August 2006, 8:57 PM
  Clint, okay. Is okay. That mudbrick on Colleen Ivory Drive is really nice by all accounts. Yes, the world is very small. I am wondering why your parents walk backwards and then beep. Is it when they see you? Is this a warning? Does one automatically feel that it is safer to walk backwards and beep when one sees you? Ought I to warn Thei?

30.07.2006Sunday 30 July – Mount Barney’s West Peak

The alarm went off at four o’clock. The back-up alarm went off a minute later. I thought I had been lying in bed awake for quite some time when I heard the second alarm. I don’t recall having heard the first alarm. It would seem my sense of time sleeps even when I don’t. Getting up at four o’clock after two solid weeks of late nights and very early starts should have been terrible, but I suppose it was only a little over an hour earlier than what I was used to, so it didn’t seem so bad. It also wasn’t as cold as I’d expected.
  I woke Bronwen, and we showered, packed our lunches, and ate a quick breakfast. Clint arrived around half past, and we drove to Mount Barney, stopping at a servo for fuel and iced coffee. I cleverly packed my jumper in my bag, to save me having to take it off and pack it in later—which was not only pointless as I had to get it out as soon as we arrived, but left me cold on the drive down, while everyone else glowed warmly in their jumpers.
  The recent rain had made the creek crossings—which last time we were able to get across without taking our shoes off—a little too high to cross with shoes. Shoeless through icy water at dawn is a horrible way to start anything.
  We walked up “Savages Ridge”, which was steep and scrubby most of the way up, but not steep enough to require scrambling or climbing. It wasn’t until we were nearly at the top, where the ridge began to narrow, that it began to get bad—though I only got stuck on one death-defying rocky outcrop, necessitating a short detour. Once at the top though, the walking rapidly degenerated, scratching our way painfully through sharp shrubbery to the base of a cliff. Clint and Bronwen tried climbing up a scary looking chimney, and I went looking for an easier way, which I rather foolishly thought I had found when I came across another chimney not five minutes away. It didn’t look too hard from the bottom, so I began to climb it. This turned out to be a very bad idea, as not only could I no longer contact Clint and Bronwen to get help, but I couldn’t turn back when continuing up became terrifyingly difficult, the rocky handholds disappeared, and the chimney become nothing more than a slippery dirt filled crevice seeping water. My fingers went entirely numb, which felt rather odd and made it difficult to feel anything. As I couldn’t go back down, believed that Clint and Bronwen were climbing up another chimney and wouldn’t be coming to help me, and could see no advantage in staying still as I was never secure enough to feel that I wasn’t about to fall to my death, I had no choice but to continue up. There didn’t seem any point going slowly, so I actually made quite good time, climbing, scrambling, digging and pulling myself to the top. I came to love the all too few rocky handholds I found, having to rely on clumps of grass and digging my hands, knees and feet into the cold, wet dirt most of the time.
  I arrived at the top—Mount Barney’s West Peak---wet, covered in dirt, numb, shaking, and alone. There was a lovely sun, which warmed and dried me remarkably fast, but there was no Clint or Bronwen. I walked to the edges of the cliff and cooeed but couldn’t get any answer. I figured they wouldn’t both have died at the same time, and I really had no other choice, so I sat on a rock and enjoyed the sun. Clint and Bronwen did eventually turn up, nearly half an hour after I’d arrived, having been unable to get up their chimney and using the one I had climbed.
  We ate lunch on the top of the mountain before heading down the other side. After my traumatic ascent, I was in no shape to face a traumatic descent, so was very unhappy to find that the way down, while far easier than the way up, still involved some death-defying scrambling. In retrospect, it wasn’t too bad, but at the time, it was terrifying.
  Once off West Peak, and after a short rest at the site of the old UQ Hut, we walked back down Peasant’s, which seemed like a highway after Savage’s Ridge.
  It was just dark enough to need a torch as we made our way out of the brush at the bottom of the mountain and along the road back to Clint’s car, discussing the psychology of human relationships along the way. We met a man a few minutes after we began driving, who had left his mates up the road after one had fallen and hit his head, so we gave him a lift back to his car.
  The drive home was uneventful, stopping at a supermarket for banana milk. Once back in Brisbane, we ordered pizza, which was hot and nice, and Clint read us selected excerpts from “Cosmopolitan” while losing his voice. Showering hurt, and the climbing portion of my walk was dreadfully terrifying, but now that it’s all over, I do have a nice sense of achievement.

31.07.2006Monday 31 July – Nightshift

I nearly missed the city cat to work, despite riding my bike. It’s a bad feeling to be pedalling as hard as possible, watching the city cat arriving at the ferry terminal, and knowing that I can’t physically go any faster, that I’ve hit my limit, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Fortunately, there were quite a few people waiting to get on, so I managed to make it in time. I wasn’t sure what it would be like working late, but it turns out it’s just the same as staying at uni late to do assignments—and I can’t get to bed straight away after, I need to unwind for a while, even though I should be really tired.
The ride back from work was quite nice, all along the river. I’ve been tagging music, and downloading new Winamp skins, trying to find one that is simple, attractive, and functional—something far harder than it sounds—and must now head to bed.
Comment by Mum – Wednesday 2 August 2006, 1:12 AM
  Try Colin Hay, "Man at Work", 2003 recording. Very nice, especially track 8. My current fvourite.

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