The GAFA - also known as the Great Australian Fuck All, is now frantically beckoning. Our Big Adventure starts on Friday, cos we are over-nighting in Brisvegas so we can make the silly o'clock flight to Alice Springs.
The last couple of weeks has seen stories of propeller planes falling to bits in the air so when I say I am marginally nervous about getting on the smallish fella, read - fucking terrified. Still it's only for a couple of hours so unless BOTH propellers free fall off the thing we are probably gonna be ok.
Because it's Stevie's BIG birthday and he's not surrounded by all his London mates like he was for his less big birthday, I am trying to make it as bloody fabulous as possible. But the pressure is on. Like most fellas I suppose, he is a bit of a big kid about birthdays and parcels, and even though I reckon the trip of a lifetime has gotta count as the pressie, well, I know he wants a little something to unwrap on the day - don't be smutty, and anyway that unwrapping ain't what it used to be.
It needs to be special and small and weigh fuck all and NOT be something he has dashed out and bought himself in the last little while, and that's more than a bit tricky. But I think I managed it today.
In times gone, a day's shopping filled me with joy. Heading out without a clue, and waiting for inspiration to slap me around the fanny was fun and a test of creativity and staying power, but now I am pretty pooped a lot of the time so I need to have a bit of a plan and move with determination and purpose.
All those meandering tourists just need to look up and get outta the way.
Wednesdays often find me a little worse for wear after a big day in Brissie with the gorgeous kids, so it was no surprise to me that I trooped out today looking just a little, well OK, maybe a lot, under-done.
Yeh I could have been the poster girl for a DAG CITY campaign. But Ho Hum, needs must and all that.
It's interesting though, when a daggy old bird with 'just fucked' hair, and mismatched everything waddles in to a flash shop. The greetings from the staff are soo very much straight out of 'Pretty Woman'.
I was asked, not what I was looking for but what my budget might be. I was given the up down all around once over and then followed to make sure I didn't nick anything. When I asked where I might find the price on an item I was shown rather than allow me to have a look for myself. When I settled on an item the girl tried to talk me down to a cheap bit of tat instead. In another store, every time I touched something the woman nearly had a stroke cos I was leaving my grubby little paw marks an all her beautiful stuff, then I must admit that I touched stuff just for sport.
In any case, I came home loaded with lovely, small, some light, some not so light bits and bobs so the boy will have parcels to unwrap, and I am giving myself a big pat on the back for creativity and staying power and not having smacked anyone over the head with a shovel. Well Done!
Now tomorrow I need to make sure the house is not too much in need of a spring clean so Dibley Dog's babysitters can have a pleasant stay, and then pack a bag.
The Desert is calling, and it's telling me to bring a hat and a water bottle cos it's gonna be fucking hot and hugely exciting.
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