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Archive for December, 2010

Dear 2010,

And so it comes time for us to part ways. I do hope we can be remain the best of friends, even though I’m planning on leaping into the arms of another, hopefully even better year.

Still, I won’t pretend it hurts to leave you. After all, we’ve had some pretty good times together.

I won an international blogging award and made my own JPEG as my prize. I was briefly wooed and then unceremoniously dumped by an internationally-renowned literary agent. And I then went on to write a series of open letters to my cat, Gisele Bundchen, my hangover and my  husband’s hangover.

Back at home, Mr Justice turned eight and I was finally able to write about his birth, subsequently popularising the ‘pubic mullet’. Mr Justice, in turn, led a one-boy campaign in preventing a plastic doll from being legally declared his ‘sister’.

The Pixie started school,  joined the ranks of the Girls Who Wear Glasses and gave me the best night of my life at the school disco.

Tiddles McGee finally got to have his mummy all to himself and  bid farewell to nappies, bringing a long era of nappy bags and arse-wiping to an end.

And my husband grew a beard and (allegedly) went on a twelve-day Asian sex tour with the local rugby club.

I also got to interview an inflatable Brad Pitt, befriend a whole gaggle of Hugh Jackmans on facebook and inadvertently give my friend a vibrator for her birthday. I went on to threaten a major Australian advertising agency with my splatter-crapping cat and have a midlife crisis whilst sitting with a king-sized doona cover on my head.

I then turned 40 in the best way possible and managed to persuade everyone that I really was sohotrightnow just through sheer force of personality.

Yep, a lot of good times, 2010. Good times. Classic hits.

Man, you’re going to be a hard act to follow…

Love

The NDM

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Today is my cousin K’s 30th birthday.

Having a birthday in that No Man’s Land between Christmas and New Year’s for thirty years can’t have been easy for him.

It’s a little like receiving a big box from Nokia the day before the night before Christmas. Well, actually it’s not at all like receiving a big box from Nokia the day before the night before Christmas, but I had to bring up the big box from Nokia somehow and, since I’m in that No-Man’s Land between Christmas and New Year’s, I’m struggling to find an elegant way to do it.

In the interests of full disclosure, the big box from Nokia contained a gorgeous case. And that gorgeous case contained a beautiful pop-up book. And that beautiful pop-up book contained a shiny new Nokia handset for yours truly. Apparently, Nokia have sent all me this because they really really want me to try out their new personalised satnav app ‘Own Voice‘, where you can record your own voice to give the instructions. My plan, of course, is to get my husband to do his bad Sean Connery impersonation so that when I’m trying to do a hook turn in the middle of heavy city traffic and the SatNav tells me to “Turn right here, Misshhhh Moneypenny”, I have full license to use the ‘C’ word in the car. And for the record, that C word is not ‘Connery’.

Anyways, Nokia is now to be officially known on this blog as ‘The Only Finnish Communications Corporation To Give The NDM Free Stuff This Christmas So Far’. Just in case you were wondering.

But I digress.

Last night, I went to my cousin K’s surprise 30th birthday party. In lieu of an actual gift, I arrived bearing a photo of my husband with K’s name written on his flexed bicep in dark red lipstick, with a heart with an arrow drawn through it.

Yes, my husband is all class.

Of course, I chose to show my cousin K this photo just as he was having a little emotional moment post-discovering the fact his sister, brother and parents had all flown interstate just to be at the party. It’s amazing how quickly tears will dry up when faced with such a vision.

Later in the evening, after one or two drinks, K’s siblings (and my cousins) encouraged me to text a copy of the photo to K, which I did with one single accompanying word: “Hot!”.

My, how I laughed. But it’s amazing how quickly that laughter dried up when I discovered that my cousin K hadn’t received the aforementioned text two hours later and I became struck with fear that I’d keyed his number incorrectly into my phone and had therefore just emailed a photo of my semi-naked husband with a man’s name written on his bare skin in Cherry Desirable lipstick to a complete and utter stranger.

Luckily, it turns out I hadn’t. The number I had in my phone for K was correct and the photo was just taking the scenic route through the ether to get to him. And so, an awkward conversation with my husband where I had to explain how such a photo got out into the public realm was avoided. Just as the arrival of The Silent Red Ninja on Christmas Eve over four weeks late got me out of another awkward conversation with my post-vasectomy husband (“Darling! It’s a Christmas Miracle!”).

And no, I’m not sure what this blog post is really about, where it is supposed to be going or how I’m going to end it. I think I need my so-called-husband-as-Sean-Connery to come to the rescue, quite frankly.

PS. In case you were wondering, this is what happens when you try to write a post from scratch after only four and a half hours sleep.

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From the pen of Mr Justice, aged 8.

 

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